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diff --git a/old/flndr10h.htm b/old/flndr10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..287c0ed --- /dev/null +++ b/old/flndr10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1661 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>Christ in Flanderst</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +</head> + + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Christ in Flanders, by Honore de Balzac +#83 in our series by Honore de Balzac + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Christ in Flanders + +Author: Honore de Balzac + +Release Date: October, 1999 [EBook #1940] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on April 8, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-Latin-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRIST IN FLANDERS *** + + + + +Produced by Walter Debeuf + + + + + + +</pre> + +Etext prepared by Dagny, dagnyj@hotmail.com<br> +and John Bickers, jbickers@templar.actrix.gen.nz + +<p>Christ in Flanders</p> + +<p>by Honore de Balzac</p> + +<p>Translated by Ellen Marriage</p> + +<h3><br> + DEDICATION</h3> + +<p>To Marcelline Desbordes-Valmore, a daughter of Flanders, of +whom<br> + these modern days may well be proud, I dedicate this quaint +legend<br> + of old Flanders.</p> + +<h4>DE BALZAC.</h4> + +<h4> </h4> + +<h1><br> + CHRIST IN FLANDERS</h1> + +<h1> </h1> + +<p>At a dimly remote period in the history of Brabant, +communication<br> + between the Island of Cadzand and the Flemish coast was kept up +by a<br> + boat which carried passengers from one shore to the other. +Middelburg,<br> + the chief town in the island, destined to become so famous in +the<br> + annals of Protestantism, at that time only numbered some two or +three<br> + hundred hearths; and the prosperous town of Ostend was an +obscure<br> + haven, a straggling village where pirates dwelt in security +among the<br> + fishermen and the few poor merchants who lived in the place.</p> + +<p>But though the town of Ostend consisted altogether of some +score of<br> + houses and three hundred cottages, huts or hovels built of +the<br> + driftwood of wrecked vessels, it nevertheless rejoiced in +the<br> + possession of a governor, a garrison, a forked gibbet, a +convent, and<br> + a burgomaster, in short, in all the institutions of an +advanced<br> + civilization.</p> + +<p><br> + Who reigned over Brabant and Flanders in those days? On this +point<br> + tradition is mute. Let us confess at once that this tale +savors<br> + strongly of the marvelous, the mysterious, and the vague; +elements<br> + which Flemish narrators have infused into a story retailed so +often to<br> + gatherings of workers on winter evenings, that the details vary +widely<br> + in poetic merit and incongruity of detail. It has been told by +every<br> + generation, handed down by grandames at the fireside, narrated +night<br> + and day, and the chronicle has changed its complexion somewhat +in<br> + every age. Like some great building that has suffered many<br> + modifications of successive generations of architects, some +sombre<br> + weather-beaten pile, the delight of a poet, the story would +drive the<br> + commentator and the industrious winnower of words, facts, and +dates to<br> + despair. The narrator believes in it, as all superstitious minds +in<br> + Flanders likewise believe; and is not a whit wiser nor more +credulous<br> + than his audience. But as it would be impossible to make a +harmony of<br> + all the different renderings, here are the outlines of the +story;<br> + stripped, it may be, of its picturesque quaintness, but with all +its<br> + bold disregard of historical truth, and its moral teachings +approved<br> + by religion--a myth, the blossom of imaginative fancy; an +allegory<br> + that the wise may interpret to suit themselves. To each his +own<br> + pasturage, and the task of separating the tares from the +wheat.</p> + +<p>The boat that served to carry passengers from the Island of +Cadzand to<br> + Ostend was upon the point of departure; but before the skipper +loosed<br> + the chain that secured the shallop to the little jetty, where +people<br> + embarked, he blew a horn several times, to warn late lingerers, +this<br> + being his last journey that day. Night was falling. It was +scarcely<br> + possible to see the coast of Flanders by the dying fires of +the<br> + sunset, or to make out upon the hither shore any forms of +belated<br> + passengers hurrying along the wall of the dykes that surrounded +the<br> + open country, or among the tall reeds of the marshes. The boat +was<br> + full.</p> + +<p>"What are you waiting for? Let us put off!" they cried.</p> + +<p>Just at that moment a man appeared a few paces from the jetty, +to the<br> + surprise of the skipper, who had heard no sound of footsteps. +The<br> + traveler seemed to have sprung up from the earth, like a peasant +who<br> + had laid himself down on the ground to wait till the boat +should<br> + start, and had slept till the sound of the horn awakened him. +Was he a<br> + thief? or some one belonging to the custom-house or the +police?</p> + +<p>As soon as the man appeared on the jetty to which the boat was +moored,<br> + seven persons who were standing in the stern of the shallop +hastened<br> + to sit down on the benches, so as to leave no room for the +newcomer.<br> + It was the swift and instinctive working of the aristocratic +spirit,<br> + an impulse of exclusiveness that comes from the rich man's +heart. Four<br> + of the seven personages belonged to the most aristocratic +families in<br> + Flanders. First among them was a young knight with two +beautiful<br> + greyhounds; his long hair flowed from beneath a jeweled cap; +he<br> + clanked his gilded spurs, curled the ends of his moustache from +time<br> + to time with a swaggering grace, and looked round disdainfully +on the<br> + rest of the crew. A high-born damsel, with a falcon on her +wrist, only<br> + spoke with her mother or with a churchman of high rank, who +was<br> + evidently a relation. All these persons made a great deal of +noise,<br> + and talked among themselves as though there were no one else in +the<br> + boat; yet close beside them sat a man of great importance in +the<br> + district, a stout burgher of Bruges, wrapped about with a vast +cloak.<br> + His servant, armed to the teeth, had set down a couple of bags +filled<br> + with gold at his side. Next to the burgher came a man of +learning, a<br> + doctor of the University of Louvain, who was traveling with his +clerk.<br> + This little group of folk, who looked contemptuously at each +other,<br> + was separated from the passengers in the forward part of the +boat by<br> + the bench of rowers.</p> + +<p>The belated traveler glanced about him as he stepped on board, +saw<br> + that there was no room for him in the stern, and went to the +bows in<br> + quest of a seat. They were all poor people there. At first sight +of<br> + the bareheaded man in the brown camlet coat and trunk-hose, and +plain<br> + stiff linen collar, they noticed that he wore no ornaments, +carried no<br> + cap nor bonnet in his hand, and had neither sword nor purse at +his<br> + girdle, and one and all took him for a burgomaster sure of +his<br> + authority, a worthy and kindly burgomaster like so many a +Fleming of<br> + old times, whose homely features and characters have been +immortalized<br> + by Flemish painters. The poorer passengers, therefore, received +him<br> + with demonstrations of respect that provoked scornful tittering +at the<br> + other end of the boat. An old soldier, inured to toil and +hardship,<br> + gave up his place on the bench to the newcomer, and seated +himself on<br> + the edge of the vessel, keeping his balance by planting his +feet<br> + against one of those traverse beams, like the backbone of a +fish, that<br> + hold the planks of a boat together. A young mother, who bore her +baby<br> + in her arms, and seemed to belong to the working class in +Ostend,<br> + moved aside to make room for the stranger. There was neither +servility<br> + nor scorn in her manner of doing this; it was a simple sign of +the<br> + goodwill by which the poor, who know by long experience the +value of a<br> + service and the warmth that fellowship brings, give expression +to the<br> + open-heartedness and the natural impulses of their souls; so +artlessly<br> + do they reveal their good qualities and their defects. The +stranger<br> + thanked her by a gesture full of gracious dignity, and took his +place<br> + between the young mother and the old soldier. Immediately behind +him<br> + sat a peasant and his son, a boy ten years of age. A beggar +woman,<br> + old, wrinkled, and clad in rags, was crouching, with her almost +empty<br> + wallet, on a great coil of rope that lay in the prow. One of +the<br> + rowers, an old sailor, who had known her in the days of her +beauty and<br> + prosperity, had let her come in "for the love of God," in +the<br> + beautiful phrase that the common people use.</p> + +<p>"Thank you kindly, Thomas," the old woman had said. "I will +say two<br> + <i>Paters</i> and two <i>Aves</i> for you in my prayers +to-night."</p> + +<p>The skipper blew his horn for the last time, looked along the +silent<br> + shore, flung off the chain, ran along the side of the boat, and +took<br> + up his position at the helm. He looked at the sky, and as soon +as they<br> + were out in the open sea, he shouted to the men: "Pull away, +pull with<br> + all your might! The sea is smiling at a squall, the witch! I can +feel<br> + the swell by the way the rudder works, and the storm in my +wounds."</p> + +<p>The nautical phrases, unintelligible to ears unused to the +sound of<br> + the sea, seemed to put fresh energy into the oars; they kept +time<br> + together, the rhythm of the movement was still even and steady, +but<br> + quite unlike the previous manner of rowing; it was as if a +cantering<br> + horse had broken into a gallop. The gay company seated in the +stern<br> + amused themselves by watching the brawny arms, the tanned faces, +and<br> + sparkling eyes of the rowers, the play of the tense muscles, +the<br> + physical and mental forces that were being exerted to bring them +for a<br> + trifling toll across the channel. So far from pitying the +rowers'<br> + distress, they pointed out the men's faces to each other, and +laughed<br> + at the grotesque expressions on the faces of the crew who +were<br> + straining every muscle; but in the fore part of the boat the +soldier,<br> + the peasant, and the old beggar woman watched the sailors with +the<br> + sympathy naturally felt by toilers who live by the sweat of +their brow<br> + and know the rough struggle, the strenuous excitement of effort. +These<br> + folk, moreover, whose lives were spent in the open air, had all +seen<br> + the warnings of danger in the sky, and their faces were grave. +The<br> + young mother rocked her child, singing an old hymn of the Church +for a<br> + lullaby.</p> + +<p>"If we ever get there at all," the soldier remarked to the +peasant,<br> + "it will be because the Almighty is bent on keeping us +alive."</p> + +<p>"Ah! He is the Master," said the old woman, "but I think it +will be<br> + His good pleasure to take us to Himself. Just look at that light +down<br> + there . . ." and she nodded her head as she spoke towards the +sunset.</p> + +<p>Streaks of fiery red glared from behind the masses of +crimson-flushed<br> + brown cloud that seemed about to unloose a furious gale. There +was a<br> + smothered murmur of the sea, a moaning sound that seemed to come +from<br> + the depths, a low warning growl, such as a dog gives when he +only<br> + means mischief as yet. After all, Ostend was not far away. +Perhaps<br> + painting, like poetry, could not prolong the existence of the +picture<br> + presented by sea and sky at that moment beyond the time of its +actual<br> + duration. Art demands vehement contrasts, wherefore artists +usually<br> + seek out Nature's most striking effects, doubtless because +they<br> + despair of rendering the great and glorious charm of her daily +moods;<br> + yet the human soul is often stirred as deeply by her calm as by +her<br> + emotion, and by silence as by storm.</p> + +<p>For a moment no one spoke on board the boat. Every one watched +that<br> + sea and sky, either with some presentiment of danger, or because +they<br> + felt the influence of the religious melancholy that takes +possession<br> + of nearly all of us at the close of the day, the hour of prayer, +when<br> + all nature is hushed save for the voices of the bells. The sea +gleamed<br> + pale and wan, but its hues changed, and the surface took all +the<br> + colors of steel. The sky was almost overspread with livid gray, +but<br> + down in the west there were long narrow bars like streaks of +blood;<br> + while lines of bright light in the eastern sky, sharp and clean +as if<br> + drawn by the tip of a brush, were separated by folds of cloud, +like<br> + the wrinkles on an old man's brow. The whole scene made a +background<br> + of ashen grays and half-tints, in strong contrast to the +bale-fires of<br> + the sunset. If written language might borrow of spoken language +some<br> + of the bold figures of speech invented by the people, it might +be said<br> + with the soldier that "the weather has been routed," or, as +the<br> + peasant would say, "the sky glowered like an executioner." +Suddenly a<br> + wind arose from the quarter of the sunset, and the skipper, who +never<br> + took his eyes off the sea, saw the swell on the horizon line, +and<br> + cried:</p> + +<p>"Stop rowing!"</p> + +<p>The sailors stopped immediately, and let their oars lie on the +water.</p> + +<p>"The skipper is right," said Thomas coolly. A great wave +caught up the<br> + boat, carried it high on its crest, only to plunge it, as it +were,<br> + into the trough of the sea that seemed to yawn for them. At +this<br> + mighty upheaval, this sudden outbreak of the wrath of the sea, +the<br> + company in the stern turned pale, and sent up a terrible +cry.</p> + +<p>"We are lost!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not yet!" said the skipper calmly.</p> + +<p>As he spoke, the clouds immediately above their heads were +torn<br> + asunder by the vehemence of the wind. The gray mass was rent +and<br> + scattered east and west with ominous speed, a dim uncertain +light from<br> + the rift in the sky fell full upon the boat, and the travelers +beheld<br> + each other's faces. All of them, the noble and the wealthy, +the<br> + sailors and the poor passengers alike, were amazed for a moment +by the<br> + appearance of the last comer. His golden hair, parted upon his +calm,<br> + serene forehead, fell in thick curls about his shoulders; and +his<br> + face, sublime in its sweetness and radiant with divine love, +stood out<br> + against the surrounding gloom. He had no contempt for death; he +knew<br> + that he should not die. But if at the first the company in the +stern<br> + forgot for a moment the implacable fury of the storm that +threatened<br> + their lives, selfishness and their habits of life soon +prevailed<br> + again.</p> + +<p><br> + "How lucky that stupid burgomaster is, not to see the risks we +are all<br> + running! He is just like a dog, he will die without a struggle," +said<br> + the doctor.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely pronounced this highly judicious dictum when +the storm<br> + unloosed all its legions. The wind blew from every quarter of +the<br> + heavens, the boat span round like a top, and the sea broke +in.</p> + +<p>"Oh! my poor child! my poor child! . . . Who will save my +baby?" the<br> + mother cried in a heart-rending voice.</p> + +<p>"You yourself will save it," the stranger said.</p> + +<p>The thrilling tones of that voice went to the young mother's +heart and<br> + brought hope with them; she heard the gracious words through all +the<br> + whistling of the wind and the shrieks of the passengers.</p> + +<p>"Holy Virgin of Good Help, who art at Antwerp, I promise thee +a<br> + thousand pounds of wax and a statue, if thou wilt rescue me +from<br> + this!" cried the burgher, kneeling upon his bags of gold.</p> + +<p>"The Virgin is no more at Antwerp than she is here," was the +doctor's<br> + comment on this appeal.</p> + +<p>"She is in heaven," said a voice that seemed to come from the +sea.</p> + +<p>"Who said that?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis the devil!" exclaimed the servant. "He is scoffing at +the Virgin<br> + of Antwerp."</p> + +<p>"Let us have no more of your Holy Virgin at present," the +skipper<br> + cried to the passengers. "Put your hands to the scoops and bail +the<br> + water out of the boat.--And the rest of you," he went on, +addressing<br> + the sailors, "pull with all your might! Now is the time; in the +name<br> + of the devil who is leaving you in this world, be your own +Providence!<br> + Every one knows that the channel is fearfully dangerous; I have +been<br> + to and fro across it these thirty years. Am I facing a storm for +the<br> + first time to-night?"</p> + +<p>He stood at the helm, and looked, as before, at his boat and +at the<br> + sea and sky in turn.</p> + +<p>"The skipper always laughs at everything," muttered +Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Will God leave us to perish along with those wretched +creatures?"<br> + asked the haughty damsel of the handsome cavalier.</p> + +<p>"No, no, noble maiden. . . . Listen!" and he caught her by the +waist<br> + and said in her ear, "I can swim, say nothing about it! I will +hold<br> + you by your fair hair and bring you safely to the shore; but I +can<br> + only save you."</p> + +<p>The girl looked at her aged mother. The lady was on her +knees<br> + entreating absolution of the Bishop, who did not heed her. In +the<br> + beautiful eyes the knight read a vague feeling of filial piety, +and<br> + spoke in a smothered voice.</p> + +<p>"Submit yourself to the will of God. If it is His pleasure to +take<br> + your mother to Himself, it will doubtless be for her +happiness--in<br> + another world," he added, and his voice dropped still lower. +"And for<br> + ours in this," he thought within himself.</p> + +<p>The Dame of Rupelmonde was lady of seven fiefs beside the +barony of<br> + Gavres.</p> + +<p>The girl felt the longing for life in her heart, and for love +that<br> + spoke through the handsome adventurer, a young miscreant who +haunted<br> + churches in search of a prize, an heiress to marry, or ready +money.<br> + The Bishop bestowed his benison on the waves, and bade them be +calm;<br> + it was all that he could do. He thought of his concubine, and of +the<br> + delicate feast with which she would welcome him; perhaps at that +very<br> + moment she was bathing, perfuming herself, robing herself in +velvet,<br> + fastening her necklace and her jeweled clasps; and the +perverse<br> + Bishop, so far from thinking of the power of Holy Church, of his +duty<br> + to comfort Christians and exhort them to trust in God, mingled +worldly<br> + regrets and lover's sighs with the holy words of the breviary. +By the<br> + dim light that shone on the pale faces of the company, it was +possible<br> + to see their differing expressions as the boat was lifted high +in air<br> + by a wave, to be cast back into the dark depths; the shallop +quivered<br> + like a fragile leaf, the plaything of the north wind in the +autumn;<br> + the hull creaked, it seemed ready to go to pieces. Fearful +shrieks<br> + went up, followed by an awful silence.</p> + +<p>There was a strange difference between the behavior of the +folk in the<br> + bows and that of the rich or great people at the other end of +the<br> + boat. The young mother clasped her infant tightly to her breast +every<br> + time that a great wave threatened to engulf the fragile vessel; +but<br> + she clung to the hope that the stranger's words had set in her +heart.<br> + Each time that the eyes turned to his face she drew fresh faith +at the<br> + sight, the strong faith of a helpless woman, a mother's faith. +She<br> + lived by that divine promise, the loving words from his lips; +the<br> + simple creature waited trustingly for them to be fulfilled, +and<br> + scarcely feared the danger any longer.</p> + +<p>The soldier, holding fast to the vessel's side, never took his +eyes<br> + off the strange visitor. He copied on his own rough and +swarthy<br> + features the imperturbability of the other's face, applying to +this<br> + task the whole strength of a will and intelligence but +little<br> + corrupted in the course of a life of mechanical and passive +obedience.<br> + So emulous was he of a calm and tranquil courage greater than +his own,<br> + that at last, perhaps unconsciously, something of that +mysterious<br> + nature passed into his own soul. His admiration became an +instinctive<br> + zeal for this man, a boundless love for and belief in him, such +a love<br> + as soldiers feel for their leader when he has the power of +swaying<br> + other men, when the halo of victories surrounds him, and the +magical<br> + fascination of genius is felt in all that he does. The poor +outcast<br> + was murmuring to herself:</p> + +<p>"Ah! miserable wretch that I am! Have I not suffered enough to +expiate<br> + the sins of my youth? Ah! wretched woman, why did you leave the +gay<br> + life of a frivolous Frenchwoman? why did you devour the goods of +God<br> + with churchmen, the substance of the poor with extortioners +and<br> + fleecers of the poor? Oh! I have sinned indeed!--Oh my God! my +God!<br> + let me finish my time in hell here in this world of misery."</p> + +<p>And again she cried, "Holy Virgin, Mother of God, have pity +upon me!"</p> + +<p>"Be comforted, mother. God is not a Lombard usurer. I may have +killed<br> + people good and bad at random in my time, but I am not afraid of +the<br> + resurrection."</p> + +<p>"Ah! master Lancepesade, how happy those fair ladies are, to +be so<br> + near to a bishop, a holy man! They will get absolution for +their<br> + sins," said the old woman. "Oh! if I could only hear a priest +say to<br> + me, 'Thy sins are forgiven!' I should believe it then."</p> + +<p>The stranger turned towards her, and the goodness in his face +made her<br> + tremble.</p> + +<p>"Have faith," he said, "and you will be saved."</p> + +<p>"May God reward you, good sir," she answered. "If what you say +is<br> + true, I will go on pilgrimage barefooted to Our Lady of Loretto +to<br> + pray to her for you and for me."</p> + +<p>The two peasants, father and son, were silent, patient, and +submissive<br> + to the will of God, like folk whose wont it is to fall in<br> + instinctively with the ways of Nature like cattle. At the one +end of<br> + the boat stood riches, pride, learning, debauchery, and +crime--human<br> + society, such as art and thought and education and worldly +interests<br> + and laws have made it; and at this end there was terror and +wailing,<br> + innumerable different impulses all repressed by hideous +doubts--at<br> + this end, and at this only, the agony of fear.</p> + +<p>Above all these human lives stood a strong man, the skipper; +no doubts<br> + assailed him, the chief, the king, the fatalist among them. He +was<br> + trusting in himself rather than in Providence, crying, "Bail +away!"<br> + instead of "Holy Virgin," defying the storm, in fact, and +struggling<br> + with the sea like a wrestler.</p> + +<p>But the helpless poor at the other end of the wherry! The +mother<br> + rocking on her bosom the little one who smiled at the storm; the +woman<br> + once so frivolous and gay, and now tormented with bitter +remorse; the<br> + old soldier covered with scars, a mutilated life the sole reward +of<br> + his unflagging loyalty and faithfulness. This veteran could +scarcely<br> + count on the morsel of bread soaked in tears to keep the life in +him,<br> + yet he was always ready to laugh, and went his way merrily, +happy when<br> + he could drown his glory in the depths of a pot of beer, or +could tell<br> + tales of the wars to the children who admired him, leaving his +future<br> + with a light heart in the hands of God. Lastly, there were the +two<br> + peasants, used to hardships and toil, labor incarnate, the labor +by<br> + which the world lives. These simple folk were indifferent to +thought<br> + and its treasures, ready to sink them all in a belief; and their +faith<br> + was but so much the more vigorous because they had never +disputed<br> + about it nor analyzed it. Such a nature is a virgin soil, +conscience<br> + has not been tampered with, feeling is deep and strong; +repentance,<br> + trouble, love, and work have developed, purified, concentrated, +and<br> + increased their force of will a hundred times, the will--the one +thing<br> + in man that resembles what learned doctors call the Soul.</p> + +<p>The boat, guided by the well-nigh miraculous skill of the +steersman,<br> + came almost within sight of Ostend, when, not fifty paces from +the<br> + shore, she was suddenly struck by a heavy sea and capsized. +The<br> + stranger with the light about his head spoke to this little +world of<br> + drowning creatures:</p> + +<p>"Those who have faith shall be saved; let them follow me!"</p> + +<p>He stood upright, and walked with a firm step upon the waves. +The<br> + young mother at once took her child in her arms, and followed at +his<br> + side across the sea. The soldier too sprang up, saying in his +homely<br> + fashion, "Ah! <i>nom d'un pipe</i>! I would follow <i>you</i> to +the devil;" and<br> + without seeming astonished by it, he walked on the water. The +worn-out<br> + sinner, believing in the omnipotence of God, also followed +the<br> + stranger.</p> + +<p>The two peasants said to each other, "If they are walking on +the sea,<br> + why should we not do as they do?" and they also arose and +hastened<br> + after the others. Thomas tried to follow, but his faith +tottered; he<br> + sank in the sea more than once, and rose again, but the third +time he<br> + also walked on the sea. The bold steersman clung like a remora +to the<br> + wreck of his boat. The miser had had faith, and had risen to go, +but<br> + he tried to take his gold with him, and it was his gold that +dragged<br> + him down to the bottom. The learned man had scoffed at the +charlatan<br> + and at the fools who listened to him; and when he heard the +mysterious<br> + stranger propose to the passengers that they should walk on the +waves,<br> + he began to laugh, and the ocean swallowed him. The girl was +dragged<br> + down into the depths by her lover. The Bishop and the older lady +went<br> + to the bottom, heavily laden with sins, it may be, but still +more<br> + heavily laden with incredulity and confidence in idols, weighted +down<br> + by devotion, into which alms-deeds and true religion entered +but<br> + little.</p> + +<p><br> + The faithful flock, who walked with a firm step high and dry +above the<br> + surge, heard all about them the dreadful whistling of the blast; +great<br> + billows broke across their path, but an irresistible force cleft +a way<br> + for them through the sea. These believing ones saw through the +spray a<br> + dim speck of light flickering in the window of a fisherman's hut +on<br> + the shore, and each one, as he pushed on bravely towards the +light,<br> + seemed to hear the voice of his fellow crying, "Courage!" +through all<br> + the roaring of the surf; yet no one had spoken a word--so +absorbed was<br> + each by his own peril. In this way they reached the shore.</p> + +<p>When they were all seated near the fisherman's fire, they +looked round<br> + in vain for their guide with the light about him. The sea washed +up<br> + the steersman at the base of the cliff on which the cottage +stood; he<br> + was clinging with might and main to the plank as a sailor can +cling<br> + when death stares him in the face; the MAN went down and rescued +the<br> + almost exhausted seaman; then he said, as he held out a +succoring hand<br> + above the man's head:</p> + +<p>"Good, for this once; but do not try it again; the example +would be<br> + too bad."</p> + +<p>He took the skipper on his shoulders, and carried him to +the<br> + fisherman's door; knocked for admittance for the exhausted man; +then,<br> + when the door of the humble refuge opened, the Saviour +disappeared.</p> + +<p>The Convent of Mercy was built for sailors on this spot, where +for<br> + long afterwards (so it was said) the footprints of Jesus Christ +could<br> + be seen in the sand; but in 1793, at the time of the French +invasion,<br> + the monks carried away this precious relic, that bore witness to +the<br> + Saviour's last visit to earth.</p> + +<p>There at the convent I found myself shortly after the +Revolution of<br> + 1830. I was weary of life. If you had asked me the reason of +my<br> + despair, I should have found it almost impossible to give it, +so<br> + languid had grown the soul that was melted within me. The west +wind<br> + had slackened the springs of my intelligence. A cold gray light +poured<br> + down from the heavens, and the murky clouds that passed overhead +gave<br> + a boding look to the land; all these things, together with +the<br> + immensity of the sea, said to me, "Die to-day or die to-morrow, +still<br> + must we not die?" And then--I wandered on, musing on the +doubtful<br> + future, on my blighted hopes. Gnawed by these gloomy thoughts, +I<br> + turned mechanically into the convent church, with the gray +towers that<br> + loomed like ghosts though the sea mists. I looked round with +no<br> + kindling of the imagination at the forest of columns, at the +slender<br> + arches set aloft upon the leafy capitals, a delicate labyrinth +of<br> + sculpture. I walked with careless eyes along the side aisles +that<br> + opened out before me like vast portals, ever turning upon +their<br> + hinges. It was scarcely possible to see, by the dim light of +the<br> + autumn day, the sculptured groinings of the roof, the delicate +and<br> + clean-cut lines of the mouldings of the graceful pointed arches. +The<br> + organ pipes were mute. There was no sound save the noise of my +own<br> + footsteps to awaken the mournful echoes lurking in the dark +chapels. I<br> + sat down at the base of one of the four pillars that supported +the<br> + tower, near the choir. Thence I could see the whole of the +building. I<br> + gazed, and no ideas connected with it arose in my mind. I saw +without<br> + seeing the mighty maze of pillars, the great rose windows that +hung<br> + like a network suspended as by a miracle in air above the +vast<br> + doorways. I saw the doors at the end of the side aisles, the +aerial<br> + galleries, the stained glass windows framed in archways, divided +by<br> + slender columns, fretted into flower forms and trefoil by +fine<br> + filigree work of carved stone. A dome of glass at the end of the +choir<br> + sparkled as if it had been built of precious stones set +cunningly. In<br> + contrast to the roof with its alternating spaces of whiteness +and<br> + color, the two aisles lay to right and left in shadow so deep +that the<br> + faint gray outlines of their hundred shafts were scarcely +visible in<br> + the gloom. I gazed at the marvelous arcades, the scroll-work, +the<br> + garlands, the curving lines, and arabesques interwoven and +interlaced,<br> + and strangely lighted, until by sheer dint of gazing my +perceptions<br> + became confused, and I stood upon the borderland between +illusion and<br> + reality, taken in the snare set for the eyes, and almost +light-headed<br> + by reason of the multitudinous changes of the shapes about +me.</p> + +<p>Imperceptibly a mist gathered about the carven stonework, and +I only<br> + beheld it through a haze of fine golden dust, like the motes +that<br> + hover in the bars of sunlight slanting through the air of a +chamber.<br> + Suddenly the stone lacework of the rose windows gleamed through +this<br> + vapor that had made all forms so shadowy. Every moulding, the +edges of<br> + every carving, the least detail of the sculpture was dipped in +silver.<br> + The sunlight kindled fires in the stained windows, their rich +colors<br> + sent out glowing sparks of light. The shafts began to tremble, +the<br> + capitals were gently shaken. A light shudder as of delight ran +through<br> + the building, the stones were loosened in their setting, the +wall-<br> + spaces swayed with graceful caution. Here and there a ponderous +pier<br> + moved as solemnly as a dowager when she condescends to complete +a<br> + quadrille at the close of a ball. A few slender and graceful +columns,<br> + their heads adorned with wreaths of trefoil, began to laugh and +dance<br> + here and there. Some of the pointed arches dashed at the tall +lancet<br> + windows, who, like ladies of the Middle Ages, wore the +armorial<br> + bearings of their houses emblazoned on their golden robes. The +dance<br> + of the mitred arcades with the slender windows became like a +fray at a<br> + tourney.</p> + +<p>In another moment every stone in the church vibrated, without +leaving<br> + its place; for the organ-pipes spoke, and I heard divine +music<br> + mingling with the songs of angels, and unearthly harmony, +accompanied<br> + by the deep notes of the bells, that boomed as the giant towers +rocked<br> + and swayed on their square bases. This strange Sabbath seemed to +me<br> + the most natural thing in the world; and I, who had seen Charles +X.<br> + hurled from his throne, was no longer amazed by anything. Nay, +I<br> + myself was gently swaying with a see-saw movement that +influenced my<br> + nerves pleasurably in a manner of which it is impossible to give +any<br> + idea. Yet in the midst of this heated riot, the cathedral choir +felt<br> + cold as if it were a winter day, and I became aware of a +multitude of<br> + women, robed in white, silent, and impassive, sitting there. The +sweet<br> + incense smoke that arose from the censers was grateful to my +soul. The<br> + tall wax candles flickered. The lectern, gay as a chanter undone +by<br> + the treachery of wine, was skipping about like a peal of +Chinese<br> + bells.</p> + +<p><br> + Then I knew that the whole cathedral was whirling round so fast +that<br> + everything appeared to be undisturbed. The colossal Figure on +the<br> + crucifix above the altar smiled upon me with a mingled malice +and<br> + benevolence that frightened me; I turned my eyes away, and +marveled at<br> + the bluish vapor that slid across the pillars, lending to them +an<br> + indescribable charm. Then some graceful women's forms began to +stir on<br> + the friezes. The cherubs who upheld the heavy columns shook out +their<br> + wings. I felt myself uplifted by some divine power that steeped +me in<br> + infinite joy, in a sweet and languid rapture. I would have given +my<br> + life, I think, to have prolonged these phantasmagoria for a +little,<br> + but suddenly a shrill voice clamored in my ears:</p> + +<p>"Awake and follow me!"</p> + +<p>A withered woman took my hand in hers; its icy coldness crept +through<br> + every nerve. The bones of her face showed plainly through the +sallow,<br> + almost olive-tinted wrinkles of the skin. The shrunken, ice-cold +old<br> + woman wore a black robe, which she trailed in the dust, and at +her<br> + throat there was something white, which I dared not examine. I +could<br> + scarcely see her wan and colorless eyes, for they were fixed in +a<br> + stare upon the heavens. She drew me after her along the +aisles,<br> + leaving a trace of her presence in the ashes that she shook from +her<br> + dress. Her bones rattled as she walked, like the bones of a +skeleton;<br> + and as we went I heard behind me the tinkling of a little bell, +a<br> + thin, sharp sound that rang through my head like the notes of +a<br> + harmonica.</p> + +<p>"Suffer!" she cried, "suffer! So it must be!"</p> + +<p>We came out of the church; we went through the dirtiest +streets of the<br> + town, till we came at last to a dingy dwelling, and she bade me +enter<br> + in. She dragged me with her, calling to me in a harsh, tuneless +voice<br> + like a cracked bell:</p> + +<p>"Defend me! defend me!"</p> + +<p>Together we went up a winding staircase. She knocked at a door +in the<br> + darkness, and a mute, like some familiar of the Inquisition, +opened to<br> + her. In another moment we stood in a room hung with ancient, +ragged<br> + tapestry, amid piles of old linen, crumpled muslin, and gilded +brass.</p> + +<p>"Behold the wealth that shall endure for ever!" said she.</p> + +<p>I shuddered with horror; for just then, by the light of a tall +torch<br> + and two altar candles, I saw distinctly that this woman was +fresh from<br> + the graveyard. She had no hair. I turned to fly. She raised +her<br> + fleshless arm and encircled me with a band of iron set with +spikes,<br> + and as she raised it a cry went up all about us, the cry of +millions<br> + of voices--the shouting of the dead!</p> + +<p>"It is my purpose to make thee happy for ever," she said. +"Thou art my<br> + son."</p> + +<p>We were sitting before the hearth, the ashes lay cold upon it; +the old<br> + shrunken woman grasped my hand so tightly in hers that I could +not<br> + choose but stay. I looked fixedly at her, striving to read the +story<br> + of her life from the things among which she was crouching. Had +she<br> + indeed any life in her? It was a mystery. Yet I saw plainly that +once<br> + she must have been young and beautiful; fair, with all the charm +of<br> + simplicity, perfect as some Greek statue, with the brow of a +vestal.</p> + +<p>"Ah! ah!" I cried, "now I know thee! Miserable woman, why hast +thou<br> + prostituted thyself? In the age of thy passions, in the time of +thy<br> + prosperity, the grace and purity of thy youth were +forgotten.<br> + Forgetful of thy heroic devotion, thy pure life, thy abundant +faith,<br> + thou didst resign thy primitive power and thy spiritual +supremacy for<br> + fleshly power. Thy linen vestments, thy couch of moss, the cell +in the<br> + rock, bright with rays of the Light Divine, was forsaken; thou +hast<br> + sparkled with diamonds, and shone with the glitter of luxury +and<br> + pride. Then, grown bold and insolent, seizing and overturning +all<br> + things in thy course like a courtesan eager for pleasure in her +days<br> + of splendor, thou hast steeped thyself in blood like some +queen<br> + stupefied by empery. Dost thou not remember to have been dull +and<br> + heavy at times, and the sudden marvelous lucidity of other +moments; as<br> + when Art emerges from an orgy? Oh! poet, painter, and singer, +lover of<br> + splendid ceremonies and protector of the arts, was thy +friendship for<br> + art perchance a caprice, that so thou shouldst sleep beneath<br> + magnificent canopies? Was there not a day when, in thy +fantastic<br> + pride, though chastity and humility were prescribed to thee, +thou<br> + hadst brought all things beneath thy feet, and set thy foot on +the<br> + necks of princes; when earthly dominion, and wealth, and the +mind of<br> + man bore thy yoke? Exulting in the abasement of humanity, joying +to<br> + witness the uttermost lengths to which man's folly would go, +thou hast<br> + bidden thy lovers walk on all fours, and required of them their +lands<br> + and wealth, nay, even their wives if they were worth aught to +thee.<br> + Thou hast devoured millions of men without a cause; thou hast +flung<br> + away lives like sand blown by the wind from West to East. Thou +hast<br> + come down from the heights of thought to sit among the kings of +men.<br> + Woman! instead of comforting men, thou hast tormented and +afflicted<br> + them! Knowing that thou couldst ask and have, thou hast +demanded--<br> + blood! A little flour surely should have contented thee, +accustomed as<br> + thou hast been to live on bread and to mingle water with thy +wine.<br> + Unlike all others in all things, formerly thou wouldst bid thy +lovers<br> + fast, and they obeyed. Why should thy fancies have led thee to +require<br> + things impossible? Why, like a courtesan spoiled by her lovers, +hast<br> + thou doted on follies, and left those undeceived who sought to +explain<br> + and justify all thy errors? Then came the days of thy later +passions,<br> + terrible like the love of a woman of forty years, with a fierce +cry<br> + thou hast sought to clasp the whole universe in one last +embrace--and<br> + thy universe recoiled from thee!</p> + +<p><br> + "Then old men succeeded to thy young lovers; decrepitude came to +thy<br> + feet and made thee hideous. Yet, even then, men with the eagle +power<br> + of vision said to thee in a glance, 'Thou shalt perish +ingloriously,<br> + because thou hast fallen away, because thou hast broken the vows +of<br> + thy maidenhood. The angel with peace written on her forehead, +who<br> + should have shed light and joy along her path, has been a +Messalina,<br> + delighting in the circus, in debauchery, and abuse of power. The +days<br> + of thy virginity cannot return; henceforward thou shalt be +subject to<br> + a master. Thy hour has come; the hand of death is upon thee. Thy +heirs<br> + believe that thou art rich; they will kill thee and find +nothing. Yet<br> + try at least to fling away this raiment no longer in fashion; be +once<br> + more as in the days of old!--Nay, thou art dead, and by thy own +deed!'</p> + +<p>"Is not this thy story?" so I ended. "Decrepit, toothless, +shivering<br> + crone, now forgotten, going thy ways without so much as a glance +from<br> + passers-by! Why art thou still alive? What doest thou in that +beggar's<br> + garb, uncomely and desired of none? Where are thy riches?--for +what<br> + were they spent? Where are thy treasures?--what great deeds hast +thou<br> + done?"</p> + +<p>At this demand, the shriveled woman raised her bony form, +flung off<br> + her rags, and grew tall and radiant, smiling as she broke forth +from<br> + the dark chrysalid sheath. Then like a butterfly, this +diaphanous<br> + creature emerged, fair and youthful, clothed in white linen, an +Indian<br> + from creation issuing her palms. Her golden hair rippled over +her<br> + shoulders, her eyes glowed, a bright mist clung about her, a +ring of<br> + gold hovered above her head, she shook the flaming blade of a +sword<br> + towards the spaces of heaven.</p> + +<p>"See and believe!" she cried.</p> + +<p>And suddenly I saw, afar off, many thousands of cathedrals +like the<br> + one that I had just quitted; but these were covered with +pictures and<br> + with frescoes, and I heard them echo with entrancing music. +Myriads of<br> + human creatures flocked to these great buildings, swarming about +them<br> + like ants on an ant-heap. Some were eager to rescue books +from<br> + oblivion or to copy manuscripts, others were helping the poor, +but<br> + nearly all were studying. Up above this countless multitude rose +giant<br> + statues that they had erected in their midst, and by the gleams +of a<br> + strange light from some luminary as powerful as the sun, I read +the<br> + inscriptions on the bases of the statues--Science, History,<br> + Literature.</p> + +<p>The light died out. Again I faced the young girl. Gradually +she<br> + slipped into the dreary sheath, into the ragged cere-cloths, +and<br> + became an aged woman again. Her familiar brought her a little +dust,<br> + and she stirred it into the ashes of her chafing-dish, for the +weather<br> + was cold and stormy; and then he lighted for her, whose palaces +had<br> + been lit with thousands of wax-tapers, a little cresset, that +she<br> + might see to read her prayers through the hours of night.</p> + +<p>"There is no faith left in the earth! . . ." she said.</p> + +<p>In such a perilous plight did I behold the fairest and the +greatest,<br> + the truest and most life-giving of all Powers.</p> + +<p>"Wake up, sir, the doors are just about to be shut," said a +hoarse<br> + voice. I turned and beheld the beadle's ugly countenance; the +man was<br> + shaking me by the arm, and the cathedral lay wrapped in shadows +as a<br> + man is wrapped in his cloak.</p> + +<p>"Belief," I said to myself, "is Life! I have just witnessed +the<br> + funeral of a monarchy, now we must defend the church."</p> + +<p>PARIS, February 183l.</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Christ in Flanders, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHRIST IN FLANDERS *** + +This file should be named flndr10h.htm or flndr10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, flndr11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, flndr11ah.htm + +Produced by Walter Debeuf + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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