The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1902-04-04
The
CIOiSter CaSk.
eO0>>
By Charlton Lawrence EdhoIn.
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BY Charlton
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INSIDE the cloister cask was a dark
| ness, palpable as the festooned
cobwebs that brushed my face, when,
standing in its belly, l looked upward
into obscurity.
Far, far above me glimmered a pale
light, like a star yelled in mist, "And
that" said the dried-up voice of the
little sexton, 'that is the bung-hole.
1t is three feet in diameter; large
enough to admit a fine stout man."
and he sighed like withered leaf in
the wind.
A fine, fruity smell told of the
oceans of old wine that had flowed
through this cavern, from bung-hole
to spigot, and ah, from spigot into
countless pious Threats, thirsty with
much prayer! for in all the time that
this monastery had welded its power
over much of the Black Forest, the
cloister cask, though always running,
never ran dry.
"Ah, yes, once it did run dry whis-
pered the sexton, land once again it
was emptied into vile, profane
threats. Each time it betokened
great misfortune to our order, but
now that it is always empty, where
is our brotherhood, where our splen-
did buildings, our glorious church?
Ruins, desolate ruins!
81 remember when it was desecrat-
ed, that was in sixteen hundred and
OII W. n
man, but already holding position
of trust in the monastery. was eel
lar-master when Melac, with his
swarm of French ruffians over-ran
the whole country, burned the vii
lagos, sacked the sacred courts, and
drained the great cask-may their
threats be scorched for it, the filthy
sponges!
II looked on, bound hand and foot,
and thrown into a corner like a sack
of rye; yes, 1 looked on while the
swash-buckler, Capt. de Monrepos,
bastard of royalty, placed ladder
against the side and mounted to the
top of the cask, where he found the
bung padlocked to the slaves.
His Williams tossed him up my
bunch of keys, and as he unlocked it,
ne noticed that this bung was beau
tiful and curiously carved piece of
oak; but stop, you shall see tiny
own work-my masterpiece.
And he dragged me to the end of
the cask, where stood a large cylinder,
soaked by the wine till it had as
sumed dusky purple red.
Even in it's color this is a perfect
likeness of Brother Ambrose" gasped
the little man. Brother Ambrose,
cellar-master before me and now
blessed saint in Paradise"
And truly, the sculptured head that
grinned at me in the dusk could have
been naught but that of a cellar-mas-
ter; the wavering candle light threw
fitting reflections over his polished
cheeks that seemed to culver and
shake with good living, and the ex-
preston of supreme physical salts
faction was caught with a freshness
delightful to behold.
Brother Ambrose it is, and he lived
and breathed," said the sexton with
such feeling that the cask echoed
generously and shook the ghostly
draperies, land this is his memorial
in remembrance of strange fate that
befell him even where we stand.
'But Monrepos, the pig, what knew
he of art. When he saw this head on
the bung he drew his long sword and
struck it a blow on the pate till even
the full cask protested duly. This
was Gambrinus!' cried he in his
clarion voice, whom these swine wor-
ship. Rise now, Sir Bacchus, worthy
of the allegiance of gentleman of
France!' and amid the outlaws of his
troopers he pulled out the bung,
dipped in his casque and drank long
health to the new leader.
''All this 1 saw, as bound hand and
foot lay in the corner like sack of
rye"
/ looked at the old man suspicious
ly; ancient as he was, he could not
have been living during the famous
raid of Melac, far back in the seven
teenth century.
But without noticing my surprise,
he went on dreamily, with half-closed
eyes: "Ah, Brother Ambrose, that
thou shouldst ever have come to this
thou most truly German of all the
brotherhood, to be worshiped by a
horde of French bandits!
"When Brother Ambrose was Gel
lar-master, was mere boy, his as.