The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1879-07-10
OUR STORY TELLER.
FAITHFUL BLANCHE.

Wutn, III luC Va blt lOuiItCnlh
century, Christian men might almost be
pardoned if they despaired of Chris
tisnity, there was yet, as is'ever the case
IN the midst Of all that is most odious
and repulsive, much that was most adj
mirable in the conduct Of the human
actors.
Devastated from one end TO the other
no less bv the hostile incursions of the
terrible Euglish. invaders than by the
sxactions and expressions OF their own
hereditary lords-France was little more
through all her borders than wide, I'M
cultivated, unreaped desert.
Famine was in the land, and pesti-
lence, and fire, and the sword and there
was none to help the people. Their lords
we're themselves impoverished, and un-
sole 10 equip, much less subsist the
armies which should have protected the
children OF the soil were unable to sup
port their own families and followers
IN their accustomed opulence, much
less TO feed or assist the perishing pop
ulation.
The foreign enemy laid waste the
country far and wide to maintain their
intrusive garrisons; and, worst OF all,
organized bands of marauders Of all ma
tion3 -Bretons and Englishmen, Flem-
ings and Germans, Hollanders and
Welchmen-nay! but Frenchmen them
selves traversed the country day and
night, pillagiug, plundering, with no
pretext beyond the love of rapine and
havoc.
And this, and worse than this, was the
state OF France when, maddened by
misery, brutalized by bondage, hopeless
If ltfa nd oara1oaa IF Aaath-Tar nh
terror has the gibbet or the Ak, the
spear-point or the edge of the sword, to
him who is doomed to perish of starva-
tion 2-the wfetched populace of the rural
districts, hereditary slaves, not emanci-
patel but enfranchised at one lawless
blow, leaped headloDg into the fercest
Haturnalia of licentiousness, of butchery,
of wanton and unmeaning barbarism.
In the very height of this dark
period, when above sixty castles and
good houses had been sacked by the pop
ulace under their fendish leader,
Jacques Caillet, while the mobiles were
in paralysis and dismay, for their best
and bravest were absent on the crusade
against the heathens of Prussia, and the
lalics OF the land to the number of
above three hundred, with the duchesses
of Normandy and Orleans, had taken
refuge in the market place of Meaux,
where they expected hourly to be be-
sieged and captured, deed of loyalty
sud valor was done by poor peasant
riri worthy to be enshrined among
The finest feats of female heroism
although the histories are mute concern
ing her.
About thirty miles TO the northeast of
Paris, and about half that distance from
Neaux, the market-place of which,
situated on an island of the Marne, is
tolerably strong and with good gar
nscn capable Of defense, lies the
little borough-in those days a mere
hamlet of hats collected around the base
of q small feudal-keep-of Nanteuil le
Haudouiu.
This keep of Nanteuil was the strong
hold of siegneur far more commonly
odious than most of his class.
For time IL had escaped assault
Now, however, it came, on a wild might
in the early part of April, when tire
mendous storm of wind and rain wa
washing away the remains of deey
snowfall and swelling every brook into
torrent, that the fierce shouts of
tumultuous crowd, and the glare of thou
sand of resinous torches, defyipg tb,
tempest, faring over a sea of heads
among forest of spears and halberts
announced to the garrison of the castl
of Nanteuii that their respite was at al
end.
With the morrow the garrison knew
they must be assaulted, and that b,
twenty thousand men as yet unchecke'
by a single failure in their career O
cruel history-knew also, that they hat
no choice but to defend themselves an,
die under shield easily, or expire in un
told sgonies, cruciied or impaled, o
slowly roasted Mt the stake.
The Lord of Nanteuil, a husband N
longer, was still a father, and of on
daughter. Strange it was that such
father should have called such cres
ture daughter. For in feature an
form, mind aud affections, she was q
near to perfection as anything can b
that is human. Yet that very beaut
was now like to prove her bane, not tn
antidote to her perils.
And he, tyrant and monster as he wa
and in all other things incapable Of hi
man feeling, loved that fair gentle bein
as he loved nothing else on earth or
heaven. Coward as he was, he woul
have braved the worst tortures of the to-
mentors to preserve not more her Iii
than her honor.
There was for himself no hope; fC
her but one, and that almost hopeles
In the castle of Nanteuil, as in most
the old feudal keeps, there was a seer,
subterranean passage issuing far beyon
the outworks, beyond the probable lin,
of the besiegers. But as it was intendt
onlyas a means of escape against foreie
fees, not against rebels and traitors,
opened not far from the center of Il
village, through the cellar of the hou
of one of the chief vassals of the castle
now one of the chief leaders Of 81
Jacques.
This was the only hope, and for her
resolved to try il. For any beyond ht
self concealment was impossible, for b
u would have been 20 likewise, but 4
solitary chance. That vassal, that ar
rebel, Nicholas Maillart, was, like b
hated lord, a widower left with childr,
-one fair girl, "whom he loved pas
ing WE'LL" and who was foster sister
lovely Marguerite de Nanteuil; t
other boy, who had served in the cas-
asa varlet. and who had been retain
from the outbreak of the Jacques as
hostage.
To this boy in his extremity the CO
cruel baron resolved to intrust
child; and there was something mt
than touching, sometimes sublime, in I
confidence with which this wild ch
who had never trusted man, or merit
the trust Of men, accepted the sim
word Of this youth, whom he had off
abused foully and maltreated when
child, now an adult, almost man.