St. Charles Republican intelligencer. (St. Charles [Charles City], Iowa) 1856-1857, 1856-08-30

membrance: a glove, scarf, a jewel
some toy to trife, which, however
valueless in itself, might possess a
precious significance in the eyes Of
, love. Not that those who truly love
: have any need of such remembrance
!. but that, by these visible symbols, the
eyes keep always before them a token
which prevents them from wandering
as certainly as the heart Our lovers
did not differ from the rest of the
world. They, too, had little treasures
to exchange, upon which affection
had set her name and seal, and from
which sympathy could always gather
sufficient provocation for her tears
The gift of our Crusader to his betroth.
ed was splendid missal, exquisitely
embellished and illuminated by one OF
the most skillful artists of the neigh.
boring abbey. In return, he received
from her scarf embroidered with a
blue cross, which she cautioned him
never to discard, as it possessed a
nameless virtue. They then renewed
the most tender assurances at atparting,
swearing, as most lovers do on such
occasions, eternal love ]; and, having
for the the last time embraced the sad
and blushing fair one, the noble Her
man took the road to Venice, that
cherished daughter Of the Adriatic Sea,
from whence he embarked for the Ho-
ly Land. e -#gH ad} aa:
The seas sped his progress. He
was soon landed on the shores profan-
ed by the pagan; and brief was the
interval before the struggle followed
between the iron-clad soldiery Europe
with the light-armed, but vigorous and
elastic chivalry of the East.
ut was spectacle Of surprising
beauty" writes beholder Of "the
first combat which followed between
the opposing armies. In the distance,
the morning sun is lighting up the
blue mountains and the widely rolling
sea. Before us, the plain is covered
with the warlikc thousands who are
about to meet. There they go career
ing ON their steeds, their glittering
equipage and armor multiplying and
casting back, with sinister lights, the
dazzling glances of the sun. Anon,
there is terrible rush, as of the wa
tors Of tho raging sea a noise, confus-
ed and undefinable, but which fills the
heart with unspeakable apprchensions.
Suddenly, the sound subsidies. A ST.
lencc follows quite as, terrible as was
the storm a silence like that of the
same ocean, when the tempest has
sunk into repose. Again the tumult
rises, swells, grows as it proceeds,
while dense clouds of dust envelop
the contending armies, and almost
shut from sight the soft beauties of
the far blue sky above. Death, that
child of darkness, that mother of ST.
lence, is accomplishing her work. An
other, and deeper silence ensues.
At distance only is it broken, while
at intervals burst forth the cries of
triumph and exultation of those who
stand among and above the slain.
The pure winds of heaven once more
break over the bosom of the earth.
They sweep the dust from the field of
conflict. The cloud disappears, and
unveils the dead and dying. The sur
vivors have sped in pursuit, leaving
horror and blood behind them, with
the loathsome jackal alone to pray up
on the unconscious kinsman and the
friend. Oh, surely, the field of battle
is most glorious spectacle.
But what became of our Herman,
the betrothed of the fair Matilda, on
that bloody field, Palestine, for which
his eager soul had thirsted so long!
Alas, the question I! Sudden are the
changes in the sky of March, but still
more suddenly change our destinies.
The noble Lord Of Meringer has fallen
into the hands of the infidels. His
fate was cruel one. For six dreary
hours he had fought, almost entirely
! unsupported, against crowd of ene-
mics at length mighty sroke, break.
ing in pieces his armor, left him inca
pable of defence and Of movement, be-
meath the feet Of his horse. The strok,
however, supposed to be mortal, did
but stnn him; marvellous circum-
stance; not even shedding q drop of
his blood! The sword Of the pagan
warrior, though tempered in the living
. waters Of the Baraddi, which runs by
Damascus, could not cut through the
scarf of the fair Matilda that sea
Eof white with the blue cross, which
our hero always carried next to his bo-
som. "There was magic in the web
of it." s5la Ao2 = a slIi "
i Become prisoner, he was, with
his unfortunate companions, de-
graded to the labors of the field. Our
poor French captives were thus
doomed to till the lands they had only
come to reap, and were driven to the
work with strokes, which not unfre-
quently moistened the burrows with
their blood. Herman bore his lot with
the meek submission of Christian.
He neither complained of the labor,
nor resented the blows and bonds OF
his tormentors. Their strokes, indeed,
! fell unharming upon the scarf of Ma
tilda.
| This was miracle !! The curious
circumstance at length reached the
ears Of the youthful prince, into whose