Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

the truth as to Catarina's origin-" she is happy. I fancy she is a queen among them, for my lord had given her, so my maids tell me, many jewels and much gold. It were no hard task, I ween, to find some clown with close-kempt locks to spend it with her!"

But the maids Alice and Janet would often sigh as they thought of the lost mistress, and marked the fierce temper of the high-born dame. They had worshiped Lady Catarina; they hated Lady Isobel.

At last an heir was born.

| field, and-in this the poetess called her "most happy "saved the life of the noble knight by receiving into her own breast the lance aimed at his heart.

But what had startled the court, and held it entranced more perhaps than even the harmonious verse of the "matchless poetess Florinda "-so they called her—was the noble beauty of her son, who, garbed like the god Apollo, and bearing in his hand a silver lyre, recited in dulcet tones the wondrous rhythms of the "piteous storie of Isolinde and the Knight Rupert."

The earl's eyes stared at the youth.

"By my faith," murmured he, "the lad is like Brian, my brother, dead these fifteen years past! Not Brian even bore himself more nobly!"

The poem ended. The King rose.

But, ere this, a bitterer sorrow than even that of the past had fallen upon the earl's proud heart. It was whispered that a court gallant, no less a noble than Surrey himself, had hung too oft about the Lady Isobel, and that it might be this heir was no lawful one. It needed not jealous eyes to see that the boy's face held no resemblance to that of its assumed father. The earl's heart was heavy. Bitter indeed to have reached forty years child-sweet gift of song." less but to become the mock of a dissolute court-for such he believed himself to be.

But he took no action upon his suspicions. Why, it was never known.

It might be that he would not again repudiate a wife; and to leave again, as he had done for two years after the departure of Catarina, his home in England, was what he could not bring himself to do. In the prime of life the earl seemed aged. His heart had grown old.

And, from the hour of the birth of the heir, it was a sealed book to the Lady Isobel.

He withdrew himself, like a wounded stag parted from the herd, leaving his lady at court, and sought the solitude of his castle. .

It was here that there reached him rumors of a wonderful poetess who made the deeds of lofty chivalry and the tales of romance her theme; and whose sweet verse in the rhythms of that choice Italian, so dear to the Earl of Orme, had won much fame among the learned of her country, and great honors abroad. It was said that King Henry had invited her to court, had caused her poems to be transcribed upon vellum, and bound in embossed gold; and that, at a festival soon to be given in honor of his approaching nuptials with Anne Boleyn, the poetess would send her son to recite some verses of her composition-lines, it was said, of wonderful harmony and beauty.

None spoke of the lady's face-for none had seen it but it was rumored that she was a widow; and that the son-a boy of marvelous beauty-inherited the poetic talent of her mother.

Why, Earl Orme could not have said, but he had yearned, from the first moment of hearing of this wonderful songstress, to listen to the recitation of some poem from her pen. The few lines he had gathered at court spoke to something that lay in the most secret depths of his being; their sadness mated with his own.

The court had all assembled. Earl Egbert had not acquainted his wife with his intent to appear there; and it was with an angry start that, on entering, he marked her seated in a place of honor, with the light-minded Surrey beside her, glittering, like Isobel herself, with jewels.

Too easy was it to read their secret-he that "ran might read "! Easy and bitter indeed! Catarina's secret had been a slight thing and innocent compared to this! At last the moment came for the reading of the poem. It was a sweet story of the love of an humble maiden for lordly knight, and told how, in her hope to win his love, she had followed him to war, garbed as a page, till, at last, after all hope had failed her that her heart's prayer would be granted, she had sought the battle

"Noble words," said King Henry, "and nobly uttered. Approach, and receive of us the fitting guerdon for thy

And the King placed upon the brow of the boy a wreath of laurel-leaves wrought in the purest gold. But, though the youth knelt to receive the wreath, it no sooner touched his brow than he removed it.

"Not to me, most noble monarch, this wreath of fame. The verses are my mother's; hers is the 'sweet gift of song.'

[ocr errors]

And, though some lordlings made a movement to detain him, after bowing low the youth departed.

*

*

[blocks in formation]

It was not many days after the court fête that the Lady Isobel completed the sum of her evil deeds by disappearing from her post as attendant upon the new-made Queen.

She had fled; not, indeed, with Surrey, but with a foreign nobleman of infamous character, though of singular beauty.

The cruel mother, true to an utterly heartless nature, left behind her the son she had borne. The lad, a puny, sickly boy, grew daily punier and sicklier, till at last, in but a few short months after his mother's desertion of the earl, of her son and her duty, he fell into a malady of languor that ended in death.

For the Lady Isobel-from the hour of her departure from England she was doomed. The gallant with whom she had fled became, after being deperately enamored, desperately jealous, and-this was the last intelligence that ever reached the earl concerning her-in his fury, it was said, poured poison into wine, of which the lady drank, and expired in agony.

*

*

[blocks in formation]

One year later-and by this time, shame, sorrow, and, it may be, remorse, when he thought of Catarina-had made Earl Orme's hair white as the Winter's snows-a boy, the same beautiful youth whom we have seen at court reciting the sad "Storie of Isolinde and the Knight Rupert," rode up to the castle-gate. He bore a letter signed "Florinda"; and, when admitted to the presence of the earl, stated that the poetess, his mother, had bade him hand to the Earl of Orme the missive bearing her name.

It had required some courage to undertake the errand, young Lorenzo admitted to himself-for the earl was known to be a grave recluse; and, it was said, loved no society, especially that of women.

But the earl seemed glad to see the beautiful youth, and-strange for so stern a man-passed his arm about his waist, and led him to the portrait gallery, where, upon the wall, hung the painting representing Brian of Orme, his dead brother.

"Strange strange !" murmured the earl; "the box

is liker to my house than the dead heir who bore my name! I will follow you," added he, "though it is now one year since my footsteps have passed beyond yon drawbridge. Come ! mount your horse let us away. My steed stands beside your own. I will go whither you may lead me."

And the earl and the beautiful youth went forth together.

CHAPTER IV.

THE earl followed his guide.

At last they reached the city.

strength in the fierce ardor of study by which I hoped at last to win, as I have won, fame you need not blush to hear of. And the boy-my countrymen call him Lorenzo, but I call him Egbert-you need not blush for him. He has acquired, besides many of the secrets of science and the sweet art of poesy, that noble art of war in which those of his blood won fame, even in the Holy Land. Believe me, he will not dishonor you !"

"Call him hither. Let me embrace my child !" "A moment," resumed the dying Catarina, and her voice sank to a whisper; "let me tell you also that I have taught him whose son he is; and yet, believe me,

It was in an humble dwelling in the outskirts that the Lord Egbert does not blush to call Catarina, the Beggar youth dwelt with his mother.

There were a few flowers about the door, and the vines clustering over it formed a cool, delicious shade; but there were no signs of luxury.

The youth led the earl to a room-not spacious, but tasteful-where, on a low couch, reclined a female form. The boy knelt, removing his cap, kissed his mother's brow; and, rising in obedience to a sign from her, made obeisance to the earl, and left the apartment.

of Genoa, his mother."

"Pardon ! pardon !" cried the earl.

"It remains to me only to bid your son embrace his father, and to depart in peace," murmured the mother, as the beautiful youth entered the room, and knelt at his father's feet.

A glorious smile played upon the face of Catarina Pessali, the last waning light of a life ever sad. She raised her hands, and laid one upon the head of the

But as he did so a low, agonized cry broke from the father-the other upon that of the son. lips of the earl.

For, on the lowly couch, lying prostrate, and-or the sunken eyes, pale cheeks and emaciated form spoke falsely-dying, lay his lost Catarina !

Was it for this that he had hoped for eleven years-he had hoped--that she would return to him, that they should be happy again?

The dying poetess raised herself.

66

"Be worthy of the House of Orme," murmured she; "the noble House of Orme."

And as she spoke, looking up thus, she died. But her memory died not. It lived, while they lived, in the heart of Egbert her husband, and of Egbert the heir, her son. The name of Lady Isobel Shaftonsbury and of her offspring is blotted out of the annals of the house-into which she came but to disgrace it. Across the false heir's name lies the "bar sinister." But in undying lustre lives upon its pages the "historie of the most virtuous, the most 'faire,' and "—so stands the archive- "the most noble Ladye Catarina Pessali, Countess of Orme."

BY OSCANYAN.

There had been a world of sorrow and despairing wretchedness in Earl Egbert's heart-cry, and it had been balm to her crushed spirit. It gave her strength to speak those words he must hear, ere her waning life departed. Yes, it is I, Egbert, my husband! After many years! And now we meet but to part again; the death-dews stand upon my brow. But do not sob so! The earl had sunk weeping upon his knees at the bedside. "It is best LEBANON AND ITS INHABITANTS. thus-though now, I think, my lord and liege, you will not blush to have wedded poor Catarina, the Beggar of Genoa ! No," added she, “when we parted, when you cast me forth out of your heart, away from your arms, and into that cold world which, even in childhood, had never to me been kind, I felt that I had failed to satisfy your great heart "-here Egbert clasped her cold hand, and pressed it humbly to his lips-"I saw that my ignorance was a crime; my untutored mind unfit to mate with yours; and that she whose intincts still yearned for an unfettered and informal life, was, as you said, not fit to be the mother canother earl.”

A sudden light broke upon the husband. "The boy! the boy !" exclaimed he, springing wildly to his feet.

"Listen! I have more to say. Listen, ere my voice is for ever silent," urged Catarina. "After I left you, I felt that, to be truly a mother to the child I was about to bear, I must learn the wondrous lore of your great country and of my own-for even the beggar," added she, proudly, "has a country. I sold the jewels you had bestowed upon me in the days when your love was mine here the earl's sobs burst forth afresh-" and a learned sage gave me in exchange those treasures of learning that have made me what I am; not 'Florinda,' but Catarina Pessali, the poetess. My countrymen know my name, and Italy has pride in me!"

A pause; the dying woman's strength seemed failing

fast.

"But it has cost me my life. I have lost my body's

MUSSULMAN fanaticism, that Asiatic plague, which has devastated some of the fairest portions of the globe, has again made its appearance, this time in the Soudan, but it will not be long before its malarial influence will be felt in other parts of the Mussulman world.

Ever dominant, it has, for a long while, been kept in check through the progress of civilization, but has not been entirely eradicated; the germ, ever existing, is ready to break forth at any time and place on the least provocation.

This pernicious malady, which, at present, is in an epidemic. form, being confined to Egypt, may become pandemic throughout Mussulman territories. Whether the next eruption may occur in India, Armenia or Syria, no one can tell; but its recurrence is beyond a doubt.

It is not likely, however, that it will first show itself in India, where there are 40,000,000 of Mohammedans. It is true that Moslem fanaticism will find as ready an echo and sympathy there as elsewhere; but it must be remembered that human actions are not so much governed by sympathy as by interest. It is not for the advantage of the governing classes of the Mohammedans of India to yield readily to the infection; because, having on former occasions received severe lessons, they are not likely to be easily inoculated.

Nor is it probable that it will break out in Armenia, because this malady has become endemic in that most unfortunate country without any apparent remedy to

[graphic][subsumed][merged small]

check its progress, unless it should suit the policy of history repeats itself. The political pot-pourri is already Russia to interfere.

It is therefore more than probable that the next demonstration of this scourge will show itself in Syria-because Mussulman fanaticism is not only more rampant and malignant there than elsewhere, but other circumstances intervening will tend greatly to develop it.

France and Russia are already in the field, struggling for supremacy; the first through the Maronites and the second through the Greeks.

The French regard Syria as their natural share in the inheritance from the "Sick Man," and have grown nervously anxious since England's recent acquisition of Cyprus, and especially when that country is being drifted into annexation of Egypt.

Russia is already evincing symptoms of uneasiness, and is ready to revive her traditional claim to the protectorate of the Christians of the East and to the guardianship of the Holy Sepulchre.

And England, notwithstanding she has her hands full, will not certainly remain idle, or a passive spectator, but step in for her share, and make use of the Druses, as her ancient allies.

LEBANON MOUNTAINEER.

It was in this way, by the combination of

set on the fire, and may soon boil over. For the Turk, when cornered, will naturally resort to that dreadful weapon which is most effective in the hands of the Mussulman populace-the Jehad, or religious war, which means war to the knife against all Christians.

In view, then, of coming events, which seem to cast their shadows before them, a brief sketch of the Lebanon, where the next scene will be enacted, will not prove devoid of interest to the general reader, as an anticipatory preparation for a just and sensible comprehension of things that are to occur there.

Lebanon, or Jebel-Libnan, the White Mountain, is a mountain range in Syria, a spur of the Taurus, extending from northeast to southwest, almost parallel to the coast. It is nearly 100 miles long, and from ten to twenty miles wide. It has an elevation of about 7,000 feet, with a culminating point, Jebel-Makkel, of 12,000 feet. To the east of this mountain is another, called Anti-Lebanon, running parallel to it. It is not as high as Lebanon, nor as long. Between these two is a valley, called El-Bukaa. It is not properly a valley, because of its undulation, varying from 2,000 to 3,000 feet. The width of this valley varies

[graphic]
[graphic]

conflicting in

also from

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

WOMAN OF MOUNT LEBANON.

the Summer months. Its general climate is delightful. | ing in many parts ravines and dangerous precipices. But In the Winter heavy rains fall, but the cold is not severe. The views enjoyed from the mountain heights, especially from the western slopes, are highly picturesque. The surface of both the Lebanons is very rugged, form

in the lower regions of the range vegetation abounds, they being well watered and extensively cultivated. The numerous springs that gush from the rocks are icy cold, a luxury greatly enjoyed in a climate like Syria.

[graphic][merged small]

Extensive groves of oliv. mulberry, orange, lemon, | Many, of course, became Mohammedans, to evade percitron and fig trees; are to be met with everywhere, as well as vineyards and grain fields. The cedars of Lebanon are of historic fame. There is a grove of several hundred of them, eight of which are most conspicuous, being very large and old.

secution and spoliation. The Copts preferred to remain in their faith, and resigned themselves to their fate and ignominy. Not so with the Druses. Proud by nature, and strong in their moral convictions, almost as fanatical as the Mussulmans themselves, they could not brook dicNumerous towns and villages dot these two mountains, tation or abject submission, so they concluded to emiand they are inhabited by two distinct races, known re- grate. In the tenth century they left their homes in a spectively as the Maronites and the Druses. There are body, under the leadership of a certain Fakhr-ed-Din, and also Turks, Greeks, and even Jews, but they are few, and took an easterly direction, as did the Israelites of yore do not form an important part of the inhabitants.

The Maronites are the direct descendants of the ancient Phoenicians, consequently identified with the Greeks. In their adoption of Christianity they became victims of Mussulman persecution, to escape which they fled to Mount Lebanon, under the leadership of a certain Mar-Maron, or Father Maron. This prelate having built there, on an eligible spot, a convent, as strong and impregnable as a fort, people flocked thither for protection. From necessity other convents were erected, and these establishments multiplied, to afford shelter to those who sought in them a refuge. In course of time these people were known as the Maronites, in contradistinction to those who remained in the low lands. The Maronites are, therefore, the first settlers of Lebanon. During the invasion of the Crusaders they became converted to Roman Catholicism, through sympathy with the champions of the Cross, and through the material support which they received from them. Hence the Maronites are the Greek Catholics of Syria, acknowledging the Pope as the head of the Church, instead of the Patriarch, but retaining their native language, the Arabic, in the ritual of church service-a privilege accorded only to this community and to a few Catholic Armenians, Syrians, Chaldeans, Copts and Slavs.

When the Saracens invaded Syria the use of the Greek language was forbidden, and the schools were closed; so that the Greeks of Syria soon forgot their mother tongue, and, through force of circumstances, adopted a foreign dialect, so that the prevailing language of Syria is the Arabic.

They are very zealous in their faith, and are often seen engaged in their devotions under the shade of the historic cedars, constituting a sort of camp-meeting.

In physique they are noble specimens of humanity and manly bearing. Having in their mountain fastnesses long breathed the air of independence, they have become more brave and valiant than the rest of their compatriots.

We will now proceed to describe the Druses, who differ from the Maronites only in religion; so that any further description of the manners and customs of the one will apply as well to the other. Besides, there is a sort of mystery which envelops the character and being of the Druses which is worth developing.

The Druses are the remnants of the ancient Egyptians. It is a well known fact that the prevailing religion in Egypt, in ancient times, was a belief in metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls. When Christianity was introduced into the land of the Pharaohs those who embraced the new faith through the instrumentality of a certain divine, Khupt by name, were designated Khupties or Copts, and those who remained in their original faith through the advocacy of another zealot called Dürz, were known as Dürzies, or Druses.

The invasion of Mohammedanism into Egypt, sword in hand, brought about an entire change. It tolerated no creed, and had for a rule of action, either to embrace Islamism or become abject slaves to the "true believers."

under Moses.

Their sufferings during their journey were naturally very great, owing to hardships and privations, as they had to traverse deserts and desolations, many perishing on the way. On reaching Syria they were glad to meet with habitable lands, and the emigrants evinced a strong disinclination to proceed any further. But as the land into which they emigrated proved to be as strongly Mohammedan as the one they had left, the leaders were perplexed as to what to do, and in their ignorance of geography, not knowing how far they still had to go before they could get out of the clutches of the detested Islamites, the chiefs held a conference, in which they decided to resort to diplomacy. They concluded to remain where they were and conform to the requirements of Mohammedanism outwardly, but in secret to practice their own favorite dogma unknown to the outside world. This they could easily do, because their sect was already a secret society and a close corporation.

The Druses are divided religiously into two classes: the Akals, the knowing ones, or the learned in the law; and the Djehals, the ignorant, or the mass. None but the Akals can be present at their Halwes, or meetinghouses. They are very strict in this observance, and more consistent than the Freemasons in their selection of members. None are admitted into the rank of Akal without strict trial and severe probation. Even princes are excluded. The Akals, being looked upon as men of probity and the custodians of their faith, exercise a sort of mysterious influence over the rest of their community.

Then, again, their moral code was also of a nature to greatly facilitate their plan. Hypocrisy being a part of their creed, they hold that it is lawful to speak falsehood to men of another creed in defense of their religion, and to keep aloof from the world; not outwardly, but in heart. Simulation, then, being a principle with them, it was not a difficult matter for them to assume the garb and character of the Mohammedans. But that they are not such at heart their acts and conduct plainly indicate.

Although they occasionally go to mosque and indulge in Mussulman worship, they have their own Halvés. These are built on prominent places, and away from towns and villages. The approach to these Halwés is strictly guarded by sentinels, so as to keep their deliberations perfectly secret and free from intrusion. These are immediately advised of the approach of strangers, who are received into them, but their proceedings are stopped, and, if the intruder be a Mussulman, the Koran is produced; if Christian, the Bible.

Contrary to Mohammedan tenets, their women are not excluded from their Hulwés, nor seclusion in private life practiced, except when Mohammedans are present, or when they may expect to come in contact with them.

It is for that reason that the women are closely vailed when out of doors, flourishing that singular headgear called tantour. It is the scriptural horn, worn by the ancient Assyrian ladies of yore, which the Druse women have adopted. Independent of that feminine propensity which dictates a desire to shine above others, the Druse

« ПредишнаНапред »