IN SIGHT OF THE ABBEY.
Upon leaving the convent of St. Saturnine, Berthoald took with his men
the road to the abbey of Meriadek. The march of the troop was delayed by
the condition in which they found two of the bridges on their route; the
roads, moreover, were in such a state that the carts containing the
booty of the warriors, together with the Arabian and Gallic women whom
they had captured in the environs of Narbonne, frequently sank to the
axles of the wheels in the mud.
Two days after Broute-Saule had been delivered to the claws and beak of
the sparrow-hawk, Berthoald and his men arrived near Nantes. The sun was
going down, night was near. The young chief on horseback rode a few
paces ahead of his companions, among whom were several fresh recruits
raised by Charles from the other side of the Rhine--men as savage and
fierce as the first soldiers of Clovis, and, like them, dressed in skins
and wearing their hair tied at the top of their heads--just as, more
than two centuries before, Neroweg, one of the leudes of the Frankish
king, had worn his. The other warriors were casqued and cuirassed.
Berthoald was reserved, almost haughty towards the men of his band. They
grumbled at his coolness and general bearing towards them. But the
ascendency of his courage, his redoubtable physical strength, his rare
dexterity in arms, the promptitude of his war expedients, finally, the
high favor that he enjoyed with Charles held the savage men of war in
control. Accordingly, Berthoald rode alone at the head of his troop.
Often, since his departure from the abbey of St. Saturnine, he had
dropped into a reverie at the thought of the charming Septimine. He was
thinking of the young girl when Richulf, one of his men, rode up to his
chief and said to him:
"According to the information that we gathered on the way, our abbey
must lie hereabouts. If you will, let us interrogate the slaves that we
see on the fields."
Awakening from his reverie, Berthoald made an affirmative sign with his
head, and the two hastened the pace of their horses.
"As for me," said Richulf, a sort of German giant of an enormous girth,
"I am enjoying in advance the face that our abbot will make when we
shall tell him: 'We are here by the grace of Charles Martel. Vacate the
place, priest of Satan, and give us the key of the cellar and pantry for
us to eat and drink our fill!'"
Being now near the slaves towards whom they had ridden, Berthoald asked
one of them where the abbey of Meriadek was.
"Not far from here, seigneur; the crossroad that you see there down
below, bordered with poplars, leads straight to the abbey."
"Is an abbot or an abbess at the head of the abbey of Meriadek?"
"It is our holy abbess Meroflede."
"An abbess!" repeated Berthoald in surprise. And laughing he asked
again: "Is she young and handsome, this abbess Meroflede?"
"Seigneur, I could not answer your question, never having seen her but
from a distance and enveloped in her veils."
"If she envelops herself in her veils she must be ugly," put in Richulf,
shaking his head doubtfully. "Are the lands of the abbey fertile? Has it
many herds of swine? Does it gather in good wine?"
"The lands of the abbey are very fertile, seigneur ... the herds of
swine and sheep are very large. Two days ago we carried our rent to the
abbey and the colonists their money. It was with difficulty that the
large shed of the monastery could contain all the cattle and provisions
taken there."
"Berthoald," said Richulf, "Charles Martel has dealt generously by us.
But we arrive two days too late. The rents are paid, perhaps also
consumed by the abbess and her nuns. We will find neither pork nor wine
left."
The young chief did not seem to share the apprehensions of his
companion, and said to the slave: "Well, my poor fellow, that road lined
with poplars, there ahead of us, leads to the abbey of Meriadek?"
"Yes, seigneur; you can reach the place in half an hour."
"Thank you for the information."
Berthoald and Richulf were about to turn their horses' heads and rejoin
their troop when the latter, breaking out into a loud guffaw, observed:
"By my beard, I have never seen anyone so kind and civil towards these
dogs as you, Berthoald."
"It pleases me to be so--"
"And that makes you an odd man in everything that concerns these slaves.
One would think that it hurts you to see them.... We have about twenty
female slaves in the carts that we are dragging after us as part of the
booty. Some of them are very beautiful. You never as much as had the
curiosity of looking at them ... yet they belong to you as much as to
the rest of us."
"I have told you that I lay no claim whatever to my share of human
flesh," impatiently answered Berthoald. "The sight of those poor
creatures is painful to me. You refused to give them their freedom....
Have your way.... But do not mention them again to me."
"Well, it is no loss to us. After having amused ourselves with them on
the road we can sell them for at least from fifteen to twenty gold sous
each, according to what a Jew, who looked at them, said to us."
"Enough!... I have heard enough about the Jew and the slaves!" and
wishing to put an end to a conversation that was painful to him, he
touched the flanks of his horse with his spurs to join his Frankish
companions whom he hailed from afar. "Friends, good news! Our abbey is
rich, well stocked with cattle, and fertile; and we are to succeed an
abbess; whether she be young or old, handsome or ugly, I do not yet
know. We shall see her within an hour and shall be able to judge."
"Long live Charles Martel!" cried one of the warriors. "There's no
abbess without nuns.... We shall have a good laugh with the nuns!"
"I would have preferred to have dispossessed some fighting abbot. But I
console myself with the thought that we are to be masters of numerous
herds of swine."
"Richulf, you can think of nothing but loins of beef and ham!"
Thus gaily conversing, the warriors followed the avenue bordered with
poplars. The abbey was presently descried from the distance, rising in
the center of a sort of peninsula, and reached from this side by a
narrow road that was built between two ponds.
"Hurrah for Charles Martel!"
"What a magnificent building! Look at it, Berthoald!"
"Vast domains! And that grand forest in the horizon--it surely all
belongs to our abbey. We shall be able to hunt at our ease."
"It must be full of game. We shall hunt deer, bucks and wild boars....
Long live Charles Martel!"
"And the ponds that extend down there on either side of the road, they
must be full of fish.... We shall fish carp, tench and pike that I like
so well!... Long live Charles!"
"Do you not find, comrades, that this abbey has a certain martial
aspect, with its high battlements, its counter forts, its ramparts, its
few and narrow windows and its ponds that surround it like a natural
defence?"
"So much the better! Within its walls we shall be entrenched as within a
fortress; and should it please the successors of our good Charles, or
the phantom kings, to dispossess us in turn, as we are about to
dispossess this abbess, we shall be able to prove that we wear hose and
not skirts."
"Our tapers are lances, our benedictions sabre cuts."
"Let us hasten our horses; it will soon be night and I am hungry....
Upon the word of Richulf, two whole hams, four pikes and a whole
mountain of cabbage will barely suffice to appease my hunger."
"Sharpen your teeth, glutton! As to me, I propose to invite the abbess
and her nuns. The feast will then be complete."
"I shall invite the young and handsome ones to share our lodgings at the
abbey. What say you, comrades?"
"What! Invite them, Sigewald!... They must, by my beard! They shall be
forced to remain with us.... The good Charles will laugh at the move. If
the Bishop of Nantes should raise a howl, we shall tell him to come and
take his sheep from the wolves."
"The devil take the Bishop of Nantes! The day of these tonsured people
has gone by, that of the soldier has come!... We are masters in our
house!"
While his companions were delivering themselves of these gross jokes,
Berthoald preceded them silent and pensive. Charles had invested him
with the high dignity of count; he dragged a rich booty behind him in
his carts; the donation of the abbey insured to him the possession of a
large income; all notwithstanding, the young chief seemed troubled in
mind; at times a bitter and painful smile curled his lips. The Frankish
riders were presently on the narrow road at either side of which an
immense pond extended as far as the eye could reach. Richulf presently
said to the young chief: "I do not know whether it is the dusk that
impedes my sight, but it looks to me as if this road is cut off by a
mound of earth a little distance ahead of us."
"Let us look at that a little closer," said Berthoald, putting his horse
to a gallop. Richulf and Sigewald followed him. Soon the three found
their advance intercepted by a deep and wide moat cut into the road and
filled with water that flowed into it from two ponds. On the other side
of the moat rose a kind of breastwork of earth protected with enormous
piles. The obstacle was serious. Night drew near, and on either side the
ponds extended as far as the eye could reach. Berthoald turned around to
his companions who were no less surprised than himself: "The breastwork,
like the abbey, has a decidedly martial mien."
"This ground has been recently thrown up. The bark of the piles is still
fresh, as also the leaves of the hedge that crowns the parapet.... What
the devil can these precautions of defence mean?"
"By the hammer of Charles!" said Berthoald. "Here we have an abbess who
is well up in the art of entrenchment! But there must be some other
route to reach the abbey and--" Berthoald did not finish the sentence. A
volley of stones thrown by slingers hid behind the hedge that crowned
the parapet, reached the three warriors. Their casques and cuirasses
broke the shock, but the young chief was rudely struck in the shoulder,
while the horse of Richulf, that was near the edge of the road and was
hit in the head, reared so violently that it fell over upon its rider
and both rolled into the pond, which was so deep at that spot that horse
and rider disappeared completely. The Frank soon rose back to the
surface and managed with great difficulty to clamber up the bank, while
his horse swam away frightened towards the center of the pond, where,
finally exhausted, it rolled over and sank.
"Treason!" cried Berthoald.
The deep moat filled with water was thirty feet wide. In order to cross
it, according to the art of war, it would have been necessary to fetch
lumber from a great distance and commence a regular siege. Night,
moreover, was on. While the young chief consulted with his companions
upon the unexpected occurrence, a voice from behind the hedge called
out: "This first volley of stones is but a shower of roses to what is in
store for you if you attempt to force a passage."
"Whoever you be, you shall pay dearly for this assault," cried
Berthoald. "We are come by orders of Charles, chief of the Franks, who
made a gift of the abbey of Meriadek to me and my men. I command here.
It is for you to obey."
"And I," replied the voice, "make you a gift, preparatory to something
better, of that volley of stones that you just got."
"We can not to-night force a passage; but we shall encamp on this road.
To-morrow, at break of day, we shall storm your entrenchment. So, I warn
you, the abbess of this convent and her nuns will be treated like women
of conquered towns. The young ones will be distributed among us, the old
ones will be whipped, and the men will be slaughtered."
"Our holy abbess, Dame Meroflede, minds not such threats," answered the
voice. "The abbess consents to admit the chief of those bandits, but
alone, into the convent.... His companions will camp for the night on
the causeway. To-morrow at break of day he shall rejoin his troop. And
when he shall have reported to them what he saw in the monastery, and in
what style preparations are making to receive them, they will realize
that the very best thing for them to do will be to return and fight
near Charles, the heathen who dares to dispose of the goods of the
Church! By the horns of Satan, we shall know how to chase you hence!"
"I shall punish your insolence!"
"My horse is drowned," added Richulf in a rage; "the water streams from
my armor; I am chilled through; my stomach is empty; and yet we are
condemned to spend the night in the open!"
"Enough words! Decide!" replied the voice. "From the top of this
breastwork a long plank will be lowered over to you. However unsteady of
foot your chief may be, he will be able to cross the moat in safety. I
shall take him to the abbey; to-morrow he shall rejoin his companions,
and may the devil, who brought you here, lead you back to hell!"
During this debate the other Franks of Berthoald's troop and presently
also the carts and baggages, all of which entered without mistrust upon
the narrow causeway, had come up to where the young chief stood. He
explained what had happened, and showed them the moat and the opposite
breastwork, which, under the circumstances, could neither be cleared nor
taken. The straggling beneficiaries of the abbey, no less nonplussed and
no less furious than Berthoald himself, broke out into threats and
imprecations against the abbess. Nevertheless, night having now fallen,
there was no choice but to camp upon the road. It was also decided that
Berthoald should proceed alone to the abbey, and that early the next
morning they were to consider what to do, according to his report; but
whatever their decision might be upon Berthoald's report, it was
determined that if Berthoald should fall a victim to treason and not
return in the morning, force would be immediately resorted to. As to
himself, wholly disregarding any danger that might threaten, Berthoald
insisted upon accepting the offer of admitting him to the monastery. The
young chief yielded in this as much to the spirit of adventure as to an
overpowering curiosity to see the fighting abbess. Agreeable to the
tender made by Ricarik, who guarded the breastwork, a plank was pushed
out horizontally from within the parapet, it swayed to the right and
left for a moment and then dropped so that one end rested on the side of
the ditch where Berthoald stood and the other remained firmly fastened
to the parapet. Berthoald left his horse in charge of one of his
companions, and with a firm and light step walked over the plank,
quickly reaching the parapet, into which the plank was immediately drawn
back.