Chapter XV: Epilogue

Ronan, old little Odille, the Master of the Hounds and the Bishopess were promenading along the bank of the river Charolles, near the lodge where the monks of the monastery and the inhabitants of the Valley took their turns as sentinels near the landing-place of the punt. Since the revelation of the pretensions of the Bishop of Chalon, besides the regular sentinel, ten brothers and twenty colonists, all well armed, took turns in guarding the crossing, and encamped in an improvised block-house.

"Old Master of the Hounds," Ronan observed sadly, "this is the seventh day since Loysik left; he is not yet back; I can not overcome my uneasiness."

"Why, there he is!" cried Odille in great glee. "Do you not see his white mule? He is riding down the slope of the hill in great hurry; he is coming down to the river bank; send the punt across for him."

Ronan, the Master of the Hounds, Odille, the Bishopess, all their children, together with several monks and colonists threw themselves into the punt. The river was quickly crossed, the landing made, and all ran to meet the monk. Old Odille and the venerable Bishopess found again on that day their young limbs of girlhood. Loysik was given hardly time to alight from his mule. It was a pell-mell of arms, hands, heads around the respected old man. Whom was he to embrace first? He knew not whose caresses to respond to. After a while the tempest of tenderness subsided. Calm was restored. Joy no longer choked their throats. Conversation started on the way to the monastery, and Loysik narrated to his friends what he learned concerning the tortures of Queen Brunhild. He informed them of the confirmation of the charter of Clotaire I by Clotaire II.

"And lastly," Loysik proceeded to say, "upon my return from Ryonne, I called upon the Bishop of Chalon. The confirmation of the charter by Clotaire II was a good deal, but that was not all that was needed. There were still some formalities to fulfill."

"Brother Loysik," put in Ronan, "we heard from the Bishop of Chalon. It came about this way: After the departure of Brunhild's men-at-arms, whom we released upon receipt of the orders you sent us when you escaped death at the monster's hands, what should the archdeacon do but have the audacity to return at the head of about fifty of his tonsured fraternity, together with as many poor slaves of the bishopric. The slaves and the tonsured friars were armed at haphazard, and bore before their clerical troop a cross in lieu of a banner; they approached bravely to declare war to us, if we refused to obey the orders of the bishop, and to allow him to place our goods into his episcopal pockets."

"Ah! What a fine day we had of it!" said the Master of the Hounds. "The clerical troop brought along a boat upon their wagons in order to cross the river. That day I was on guard with about thirty of our men. We saw the boat launched, and the archdeacon step in with two clerks for oarsmen. Three men gave us little concern. We allowed them to land. The archdeacon stepped ashore with casque and cuirass over his priestly robes, a long sword in his hand.

"'If you will not submit to the orders of the Bishop of Chalon,' the basilica captain cried out to us in a triumphant voice, 'my troop will enter the Valley and reduce it to obedience by force of arms. I grant you a quarter of an hour to surrender yourselves.'

"It does not take me quite so long to make up my mind what to do. So I answered him back on the spot: 'We have already once set you free with your skin whole, notwithstanding your insolent language; this time, however, you will receive a rougher lesson, my basilica captain!'"

"Oh, old Vagre, old Vagre!" said Loysik shaking his head. "I disapprove of such violent language. Had I been here, you would not have spoiled your cause in that manner."

"Good father," answered the Master of the Hounds, smiling, as well as Ronan, "the only thing spoiled was the archdeacon's hide. As soon said as done. Our good man was seized, his clerical robe raised, and the straps of our belts administered a thorough discipline to the basilica captain, all casqued and cuirassed as he was. After that he was deposited into our punt; my men and I stepped in, crossed the river and met the clerical army drawn up in line of battle on the opposite bank. Five or six of the tonsured gentry had armed themselves with bows and arrows. They shot a volley at us; the aim was taken badly enough; but accident willed it that they killed one of our men and wounded two. We were thirty at the most, but entered upon close quarters with the five score churchmen and poor slaves that they dragged after them. They tried to withstand us, but we invoked our own special trinity--lance, sword and axe. It was not long before the redoubtable warriors of the Bishop of Chalon displayed to us the seams of the backs of their breeches in full view. The glorious episcopal captain leaped upon his mule and gave the signal to retreat by himself fleeing at full tilt; his tonsured brethren followed his example--we buried about a dozen dead, and picked up a few wounded ones, who were taken care of at the monastery and afterwards set at large. We have not since heard again from the brave episcopal army."

"I knew all that, my friends, and I approve your action, except the discipline that you administered to the archdeacon, that I strongly condemn," said Loysik; "I had much trouble in calming the anger of the Bishop of Chalon upon that particular head. For the rest, you deported yourselves as the occasion demanded. Aye, to defend one's rights and repel force with force is but just; moreover, a resistance carried to the point of heroism is often politic. Brunhild recoiled before the idea of driving you to desperate means. Well, as I was saying to you, I called upon the bishop on my return from Clotaire's camp. I found him furious by reason of your resistance, and the insult to the archdeacon. I told him that I condemned the insult, but that I approved the legitimate resistance of my brothers of the Valley. 'What is the good of your resorting to violent means?' I said to him. 'You, a churchman, sent armed men against monks and colonists, who only ask to be allowed to live in quiet and by the sweat of their brow, as is their right. Your men were beaten back, and will be beaten back again if they return to the charge. I pray you to renounce all claims against the Valley; we, on our part, will recognize your right to spiritual jurisdiction, but nothing more.' The bishop answered me furiously: 'I shall then take away from you the priests that I send you to say mass at the monastery! I shall excommunicate the Valley!' 'If that be your pleasure, bishop, why, then we shall be excommunicated; for all that you will see the grass on our meadows continue to grow green, our woods to set forth fresh branches, our fields to produce wheat, our vines to yield their juice as plentifully as ever, our cattle their milk, our bees their honey; children will continue to be born robust and ruddy as hitherto; your excommunication can in no manner change things. The only thing that could happen is that our neighbors will say: "Oh, behold an excommunicated Valley continuing to be fertile; excommunicated people remaining in a happy frame of mind and thriving; why, excommunication must be a farce!" So, then, bishop, the ultimate result would be that a punishment, that so many poor people imagine to be frightful, will be thought little or nothing of. Take my advice; give up all thought of violence and of coercion; respect our goods, our rights, our freedom, and we, in turn, will respect your spiritual jurisdiction--if not, not; the misfortunes that your iniquity may lead to will then fall upon your own head!' To make a long story short, my friends, after protracted debates, I obtained a new charter from the bishop. I shall read it to you. Listen carefully. It bears, perhaps, the germ of the enfranchisement of Gaul."

And Loysik read as follows:

"To the holy and venerable brother in Christ--Loysik, superior of
the monastery of Charolles, built in the valley of that name,
conceded to the said brother Loysik in perpetual donation, by
virtue of a charter granted by the glorious King Clotaire I in the
year 558, and confirmed by the illustrious Clotaire II this year of
613, I, Salvien, Bishop of Chalon. We believe it our duty to insert
on this leaf what we and our successors must do with the aid of our
Lord God:

"1st. The Bishop of Chalon, out of respect for the place, and
without receiving therefor any price whatever, shall bless the
altar of the monastery of Charolles, and, if requested shall grant
the holy chrism every year.

"2nd. Whenever by the will of God a superior may have passed from
the monastery to the bosom of God, the bishop shall, without
receiving any recompense therefor, raise to the rank of superior
the monk who, by virtue of the worthiness of his life, may have
been chosen by the community.

"3rd. Our successors, both bishops and archdeacons, or any other
administrators, or any other dignitaries whatever of the city of
Chalon, shall arrogate no other power over the monastery of
Charolles, either in the ordination of persons, or the goods, or
the farms of the Valley already given by the glorious King Clotaire
I and confirmed by the illustrious King Clotaire II.

"4th. Our successors are forbidden to demand, or extort, under the
title of presents, anything whatever from the monastery or from the
parishioners of the Valley.

"5th. Our successors, unless they shall be requested by the
superior of the community to come and pray at the monastery, shall
never enter the said monastery, nor cross its outer precincts; and
after the celebration of the holy mysteries, and after receiving
short and simple thanks, the bishop shall forthwith return to his
own residence without having to be requested to do so by anyone.

"6th. If any of our successors (which may God forfend) filled with
perfidy, and driven by cupidity, should, in a temerarious spirit,
attempt to violate the matters hereinabove set forth, then, smitten
by divine vengeance, he shall be submitted to anathema.

"And in order that this constitution may ever remain in full force
and vigor, we have willed that it be corroborated by our own
signature.--SALVIEN.

"Done at Chalon, on the 8th day of the calends of November, of the
year of the incarnation, 613."

"Good brother Loysik," said Ronan, "this charter guarantees our rights; thanks to you for having obtained it; but did we not have our swords to defend ourselves?"

"Oh, always that old leaven of Vagrery! The swords, always the swords! Thus the best of things turn to evil through abuse and hot-headedness! Yes, the sword, resistance, revolt carried to the point of martyrdom whenever your rights are violated by force! But why shed blood, why fight when one's right is recognized and guaranteed? Moreover, who tells you that you would again prevail if again put to it? Who tells you that the Bishop of Chalon, or his successor, would not, in case you refused to recognize his spiritual jurisdiction, call some Burgundian seigneur to his aid? You would know how to die, but why die if one can live free and peaceful? This charter binds the bishop and his successors to respect the rights of the monks of the monastery and of the inhabitants of this valley. It is an additional guaranty. Should it ever be trampled under foot, then the hour will have sounded for heroic measures. Until then, my friends, spend your days in the tranquility that this charter insures to you."

"You are right, Loysik," replied Ronan, "that old leaven of Vagrery is ever fermenting in our heads. But is not this submission to the spiritual jurisdiction of the bishop, a submission that the charter consecrates, is it not a humiliation?"

"Did he not before now exercise more or less spiritual authority over us? Formally to recognize his spiritual authority is a matter of but slight importance; to deny it would be to expose ourselves to interminable troubles. And all to what purpose? Is not the inviolability of our goods and our property acknowledged?"

"That is so, brother."

"This charter, that, thanks to the firmness with which you resisted his iniquitous claims, instead of cowardly resigning yourselves to usurpations--this charter bears in itself the germ of the progressive enfranchisement of Gaul."

"How it that, Loysik?"

"Sooner or later, what we have done in the Valley of Charolles will be repeated in other provinces; the old Gallic blood will not forever remain torpid; some day, waking up at last to their own numbers and power, our sons will in their turn say to the seigneurs and bishops: 'Recognize our rights and we will recognize the powers that you have arrogated to yourselves; if not, war--war to the bitter end--war to the death--war to the point of extermination!"

"And yet, Loysik," cried Ronan, "what a shame, what an iniquity to recognize that accursed power, born of a bloody and confiscatory conquest! To recognize the right of theft, of brigandage and of murder! The oppression of the Gallic race by the bishops and the race of Franks!"

"Brother, as much as yourself do I deplore these misfortunes. But what is to be done? Alas, the conquest and its accomplice the Church weigh down upon Gaul for over a century, and they have cast deep roots. Our descendants will be compelled to reckon with a power that years have fortified; they can not choose but recognize that power, while at the same time wresting from it, by force if necessary, a portion of the rights that our fathers were deprived of by the conquest. But what does it matter, my friends! The first step being taken others will certainly follow; and with each such step, marking its track with its own blood, our race will draw steadily nearer and nearer to ultimate deliverance. Aye, the brilliant day will finally dawn, the day that Victoria foretold, the brilliant day when Gaul, trampling under foot both the crown of the Frankish Kings and the tiara of the Popes of Rome, will re-arise proud, radiant and free. Have faith in the future!"

The news of Loysik's return flew from mouth to mouth, and spontaneously brought all the inhabitants of the Valley to the monastery. The day was celebrated with cordial joy. It gave new earnest of many years of quiet, prosperity and freedom to the monks of the monastery and to the colonists of the Valley of Charolles.

* * * * *

I, Ronan, the son of Karadeucq, finished writing the above narrative two years after the death of Queen Brunhild, towards the end of the calends of October of the year 615. Clotaire II continues to reign over Gaul as the sole ruler, as his great-grandfather Clovis and his grandfather Clotaire I before him. The murderer of Brunhild's grandchildren does not belie with his subsequent conduct the sinister character with which he started his reign. Nevertheless both the royal and the episcopal charter regarding the colony and the community of Charolles have been respected down to this date. My brother Loysik, my good old little Odille, the Bishopess and my friend the Master of the Hounds continue to defy age with their good health.

I hereby entrust my son's son with the mission of carrying this narrative to the descendants of Kervan, my father's brother, both of whom were the sons of Jocelyn. Brittany still remains the only province of Gaul that preserves its independence. It has repelled the Frankish troops of Clotaire II as it repelled the attacks of his ancestors.

My grandson will, I hope, arrive without encountering any mishap at the cradle of our family, situated near the sacred stones of Karnak. I hope he may successfully accomplish the pious pilgrimage, the same as I did more than fifty years ago.

I wish to enter upon this leaf a matter of importance to our family, divided as it now is in two branches, one inhabiting Burgundy, the other Brittany. In these days of civil wars and general disorder, the peace and freedom that we now enjoy may at any time be violently assailed. Our descendants will know how to die rather than relapse into slavery. But should it happen that unforeseen causes prevent a heroic resolution, if our family should again be brought under the yoke of servitude and its members carried away captive, it will be well, as a matter of precaution against unhappy days, alas! always possible, that the members of our family should carry some sign of recognition indelibly marked upon an arm with the point of a needle reddened in the fire and dipped in the juice of the privet berry. The smart is but slight, and the tender skin of a child receives and forever keeps the indelible mark. The Gallic words _Brenn_ and _Karnak_, words that recall the glorious past of our ancestors, are henceforth to be traced on the right arm of all the children that may succeed us, and so forward from generation to generation. Who knows but it may happen that members of our family, now divided into two branches, may, in the course of the ages cross one another's path? In that sign they will find the means of recognizing each other, and render each other mutual assistance.

And now, Oh, our children, leaving the branding needle that I have used upon my own grandchild as the symbol to accompany this narrative and be joined to Hena's gold sickle, Guilhern's little brass bell, Sylvest's iron collar, Genevieve's silver cross, Schanvoch's casque's lark and Loysik's poniard's hilt, I fervently hope that this narrative may, as all the preceding ones left by our ancestors, keep alive in your breasts the flame of an ardent love for your country and for your family. And may, Oh, my children! the moral conveyed by the adventures of my life, and of the lives of my father Karadeucq and my brother Loysik never be lost upon you. Gather from them instruction, example, hope and courage.

THE END.