Republican vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1857, 1849-05-28
MISCELLANEOUS,
From tie Wheeling Gazette.
BLONDEL.

Night on the battle field! The combat was
over the sounds of carnage were heard no more
The roll OF martial music died away, and the
night wind swept in silence over the field where
slaughtered thousands lay. The white tents glis-
tened in the quiet moonlight as brightly as though
the grass around them was not wet with blood,
and the only sound which disturbed the silence
was the measured tread Of the sentinel as he
paced his weary round st the door Of his tent
stood Richard Occur de Lion.' He had con-
quered why was the faceof the warrior sad {?
He left the field and paced to and fro in one of
the forest PATHS Memory was with him, and
the Past rose Up with all its lights and shadows
before him. Lin, serulchral forms foated past
him in the rale mooubeams; the spirits Of the
'!loved, the lest" were there, and the agony of
remorse seized the king as he recalled the form
of his gray haired father, smiling forgivingly up
on the son W no had conspired against him.
Suddenly low, sweet strain ofmournful music
broke upon the stiffness. Richard started at a
sound SO well suited to his ow snea holy mood,
and rapidly approached the place from whence it
came. Seated on the grass was boy Of about
fifteen. He was Dire ssed in crimson robe his
arm " as thrown over the chords of a small harp
from which came the tones that had so enchant-
ed the king. A small turban completed his at
tire his nigh white forehead was shaded by thick
curls, and his dark eyes were raised at the moon
that, like crescent OF pearls, foated up the
sky. The king paused and listened intently,
fer again the heart uohing notes rose upon the
air. They rose up with "a trembling melody :
they fell again to the lowest tones of sadness,
and then died away, as though the grief of the
singer was too deep for utterance.
Richard approached; ard with a few kind
words soon drew forth the Strangers story. 1t
was simple and sad one. He was poor and
triendless an Italian and an orphan. Unused
to kindness. the words of sympathy spoken by
the king fell upon the poor boys heart like music
from Heaven. Touched by his story, Richard
offered him home. 1t was accepted, and the
love commenced that night between the king OF
England and Blonde has long been matter of
history.
Time passed on, and Blondel became the ia
vorite and bosom friend of the king. Richard
treated him more as a brother than dependent,
and the Italian loved him as none but an Italian
can love; truly, strongly and devotedly. In the
march to Palestine they were together. Sideb by
side they fought; wardirg off he blows aimed at
each other, and ever i'll the thickest of the fight,
and when the battle was over and Richard had
retired to his tent at the close of the day, there
too, was his faithful follower pouring forth rich
strains of music to soothe the troubled spirits of
the king.
Years rolled round: the crusade, were over
but Richard taken prisoner bytreachery.was con-
fined in Austria The hosts that had followed
him to the holy land, were gone his taithless
brother had usurped his throne, and the noble,
the chivalric 'CDur de Lion" was forgotten and
left to perish in an unknown prison. But one
heart still throbbed with affection as in the days
of yore one hand still dared to sustain the fall
en- fortunes of the lost monarch. Blondel, with
his staff in his hand, and CHS wild harp slung
behind him. iourneyed on foot through all Ger
fort 1,a of hic fron1 op6
master. He needed neither cold nor tempest.
Seized and thrown into prison time after time,
still he escaped and journeyed on. Three long,
weary years had rolled slowly past he had trav-
eled thousands OF miles on foot and visited all
the castles in Germany, but all was in .vain--
Hope was past
1t was an Autumn night-the moon was beam
ing glorously behind feecy cloud, and no
sound reached the mirthful ear save the sigh of
the wind among the fallen leaves, andfthe heavy
splash of the waters of the Rhine against the
walls of an old castle Its huge towers rose in
bold relief against the sky, Blondel gazed upon
it from an adjoining forest He was weary and
sad, for.
'The way was long, the wind was cold
The Minstrel was infMm and DID,"
He placed his hand upon his harp and sadly
began a wild, sweet prelude to song he had
sung inhappier hours. 1t was his masters ia
vorite. Bat suddenly he paused. Was it the
notes of some far off bird, or was his song echoed
by voices Again he touched the harp and
never had he swept the chords with such energy
as now He listened but the sound was over.
He sang, and in the middle OF a verse he paused,
and it was no deusion, the strain was caught
up in one of the turrets of the castle, and The
verse was finished by his masters voice! His
search was ended that night a tiny boat was
under the window of the turret, form leaped
down, and Richard was free!
Three years afterwards Richard was besieging
a rebelious baron In the evening the attack
became more violent. Richard was upon the
ramparts when shaft was aimed at his heart.
Blondel threw himself before him hut in vain