 Section 25 of Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Volume 9. Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Volume 9. Section 25, Selected Exert from the Poem of My Sid, by Charles Brog Smith In the Sid we have two distinct personages, Rodrigo, or Guideas, Dia, son of Diego, who flourished during the last half of the eleventh century, and that legendary hero of Spanish epic poems, ballads, and dramas, whom Philip II tried to have canonized. We are not left to our own conjectures as to the character and life of the historical Sid. Both Spanish and Arabic records placed main facts beyond all controversy. He was born at Vivar, a hamlet three miles north of Burgles, circa 1040 to 1050, of an ancient Castilian family claiming descent from Léon Calvo. One of the two judges who, tradition declares, was named by the Castilian people as their governor after the Leonelist king had treacherously put their counts to death, circa 923. The period of the Sid coincides with the political disruption of Arabic Spain. The caliphate of Cordova, which in the preceding century had attained its high point in power and in all the arts of civilization, had fallen. A multitude of petty-more states disputed with each other the heritage of the Omiad Caliphs. The Christian states were not slow to profit by their opportunity. Ferdinand I of Lyon Castile, surnamed the Great, 1037 to 65, not only extended his territory at the expense of the Moors, but also imposed tribute upon four of their more important states, Sagoza, Toledo, Baloja, and Sevilla. Valencia only escaped a similar fate through his death. The peninsula was at this time divided among a large number of mutually independent and warring states, Christian and Muslim. The sentiments of loyalty to religion and to country were universally subordinated to those of personal interest. Christians fought under Moorish banners, Moors under Christian. Humanity towards the enemy, loyalty to oaths, were not virtues in the common estimation. Between the Christian states of Lyon and Castile, great jealousy ruled. Castile had come into being as a border province of the Asturian kingdom, governed by military counts. From the first, there seems to have been a spirit of resistance to the overrule of the Asturian kings, later known as kings of Lyon. Finally, under its count Fernand Gonzales, who died 970, Castile secured his independence. But whether leading a separate political existence or united with Lyon, Castile was ever jealously sensitive of any precedence claimed or exercised by its sister kingdom. Ferdinand I of Lyon Castile, treating his territorial possessions as personal property, a policy repeatedly fatal to all advance in Spanish history, divided them at his death, 1005, among his five children. Sancho, the eldest, received Castile, Nejera, and Papaluna. Alfonso, Lyon and the Asturias. Garcia, Galica, and that portion of Portugal which had been rested from the Moors. Euraca received the city of Zamora, and Oviro, Toro. The expected occurred. Sancho made war on his brothers, compelling both to flee to Moorish territories, and rested Toro from Elvira. Rodrigo Díaz, the Sid, appears first at this period. He is the Alferdes, i.e. the standard-bearer, or commander-in-chief under the king in Sancho's army. The brother-kings, Sancho and Alfonso, had agreed to submit their dispute to a single combat, the victor to receive the territories of both. Alfonso's Lyonese army conquered the Castilian, and relying upon the agreement withdrew to its tents. Rodrigo Díaz was already known as the Comperador, a title won through his having vanquished in single combat the champion of Sancho of Nevere, and signifying probably one skilled in battle, or champion. Rodrigo gave a wily council to the routed Castilians. The Lyonese are not expecting an attack, he said. Let us return and fall upon them at outer wares. The council was followed. The victors resting in their tents were surprised at daybreak, and only a few, Alfonso among the number, escaped with their lives. Alfonso was imprisoned at Burgos, but soon released at the entreaty of the princess Urica, on condition of his becoming a monk. Availing himself of such liberty, he escaped from the monastery to the Moorish court of Mamoun, king of Toledo. Sancho ruled thus over the entire heritage of his father, Zamora accepted the portion of Uraqa. While laying siege to that city, he was slain by a cavalier in Uraqa service, Beletodolthus, who, salient from the city, made good his escape, though almost overtaken by the avenging Comperador, 1072. Alfonso, the fugitive of Toledo, was now rightful heir to the throne, and however reluctant the Castilian nobles were to recognize the authority of Ali and his king, they yielded to necessity. It is asserted, but the historical evidence here is not complete, that before recognizing Alfonso's authority, the Castilian nobles required of him an oath that he had no part in his brother's murder, and that it was the Comperador who administered this oath, 1073. Whatever the facts, Alfonso will have thought it wise to conciliate the goodwill of the Castilian grandees, and especially that of their leader Rodrigo, until at least his own position became secure. To do this we may attribute his giving to Rodrigo in marriage of himena, daughter of Diego, count of Oviedo, and first cousin of the king. The marriage contract, bearing date 1074, is preserved at Burgos. Some years later, Rodrigo was sent to collect the tribute to Alfonso by his vassal Motamed, king of Seville. Finding the king of Granada at war with Motamed, Rodrigo requested him not to attack an ally of Alfonso. But prayers and threats were alike unavailing. It came to battle, and Rodrigo conquered. Among the prisoners were several Christians in the service of Granada, notably Garcia Odonez, a scion of the royal Lianese house. Not long after, we find Rodrigo charged with having appropriated to his own use a portion of the tributes and gifts sent to Alfonso by Motamed, Garcia Odonez being his chief accuser. Taking advantage of the pretext, it can have been but a pretext, of Rodrigo's attacking the Moors without first securing the royal consent, Alfonso banished him. Old wrongs still rankling in the king's memory furnished probably the real motive. And now began that career as soldier of fortune, which has furnished themes to Spanish poets of high and low degree, and which, transformed and idealized by tradition, has made of Rodrigo the perfect cavalier of crusading Christian Spain. He offered first, it would seem, his service and that of his followers to the Christian Count of Barcelona, and when refused by him to the Moorish king of Saragossa. This state was one of the more important of those resulting from the distribution of the Caliphate of Cordova. The offer was accepted, and Rodrigo remained here until 1088, serving successively three generations of the Benihud, father, son and grandson, warring indifferently against Christians and Moors, and through his successes rising to extraordinary distinction and power. At this time, 1088, the attention of Wolf Mollstein, the king of Saragossa, and of his powerful captain Rodrigo, was drawn to Valencia. This city, after the fall of the Caliphate of Cordova, had been ruled for forty-four years by descendants of Almanzor, the great prime minister of the last period of the Omiad dynasty. Mamoun, king of Toledo, who sheltered the fugitive Alfonso, deposed the last of these Valencian kings, his son-in-law, and annexed the state to his own dominion. At Mamoun's death in 1075 Valencia revolted. The governor declared himself independent and placed himself under Alfonso's protection. Ten years later, Mamoun's successor, the weak Cadir, finding his position a desperate one, offered to yield up to Alfonso his own capital Toledo, on condition that the latter should place Valencia in his hands. Alfonso consented. Valencia was too weak to offer resistance, but Cadir proved equally incompetent as king and his general. Depending entirely upon his Castilian soldiery, captained by Alfar Fanez, a kinsman of Rodrigo, he grievously burdened the people in order to satisfy the demands of this auxiliary troop. But grinding taxes and extortions alike failed, and the soldiery, their wages and arrears, batted upon the country, the dregs of the Moorish population joining them. The territory was delivered at last from their robberies, rapes and murders, by the appearance of the Amoravides. This new Muslim sect had grown strong in Africa, attaining there the political supremacy, and in their weakness the Moorish kings of Spain implored his assistance in repelling the attacks of the Christian north. King Alfonso, alarmed at the appearance of these African hordes, recalled Alfar Fanez was defeated by the Amoravides in Zalaca in 1086, and can think no more of garrisoning Valencia for Cadir. The position of Cadir thus became critical, and he appealed for help both while Alfonso and to Mostane of Saragossa. Mostane sent Rodrigo, ostensibly to his assistance, but a secret agreement had been made, Arabic historians assert, between the king and his general, whereby Cadir was to be despoiled, the city fall to Mostane, the booty to Rodrigo, 1088. The expedition was a successful one. Cadir's enemies were compelled to withdraw, and Rodrigo established himself in Valencian territory. As the recognized protector of the lawful king, in reality the suzerain of Valencia, Rodrigo received a generous tribute, but he had no intention of holding to his agreement with Mostane and assisting the latter to win the city. It is clear, on the contrary, that he had already resolved to secure an opportunity offered the prize for himself. Meanwhile, he skillfully held off, now by force, now by Ruse, all other competitors, Christian and Muslim alike, including among these King Alfonso, whose territories he wasted with fire and sword when that monarch attempted once, in Rodrigo's absence, to win Valencia for himself. At another time, we find him intriguing simultaneously with four different rivals for the control of the city, Alfonso and Mostane among the number, deceiving all with fair words. As head of an independent army, Rodrigo made now successful forays in all directions, despoiling, levying tribute, garrisoning strongholds, strengthening thus in every way his position. At last the long-awaited opportunity came. During his temporary absence, Kadir was disrobed and put to death, and the leader of the insurgents, the Cadi Ibn Donhoff, named president of a republic. Rodrigo returned, and appealing in turn to Ruse and force, at last set down before the city to reduce it by famine. During the last period of the siege, those who fled from the city to escape the famine were thrown to dogs, or burned at slow fires. The city capitulated on favorable terms, June 15, 1094, but all the conditions of the capitulation were violated. The Cadi president was buried in a trench up to his armpits, surrounded with burning brands, and slowly tortured to death, several of his kinsmen and friends sharing his fate. Rodrigo was, with difficulty, restrained from throwing into the flames the Cadi's children and the women of his harem. But the lives and property of Ibn Donhoff and his family had been expressly safeguarded in the capitulation. It is probably at Rodrigo's title of the Sid, or my Sid. Arabic, Sid E, equal my lord, was given to him at this time by his more subjects. Master of Valencia, the Sid dreamed of conquering all that region of Spain still held by the Moors. An Arab heard him say, One Rodrigo, the last king of the Goths, has lost his peninsula. Another Rodrigo will recover it. Success crowned his arms for several years. But in 1099, the troops he had sent against the Amaribides were utterly routed, few escaping. The Sid, already infebled in health, died, it is said, of grief and shame. July 1099. His widow held the city for two years longer. Besieged at that time by the Amaribides, she sought help of Alfonso. He came and forced the enemy to raise the siege, but judging that it was not possible for him to defend a city so remote from his dominions, counseled its abandonment. As the Christians, escorting the body of the Sid, marched out, Valencia was fired, and only ruins awaited the Amaribides. 1102. The Sid's body was brought to San Pedro de Cardena, a monastery not far from Burgos, and thrown, it is said, beside the high altar for ten years, and thereafter buried. The manna survived her husband until 1104. Ibn Basim, an Arabic contemporary, writing at Sevilla only ten years after the death of the Sid, after describing his cruelty and duplicity, adds, Nevertheless, that man, the scourge of his time, was one of the miracles of the Lord in his love of glory, the prudent firmness of his character and his heroic courage. Victory always followed the banner of Rodrigo, may God curse him. He triumphed over the barbarians. He put to flight their armies, and with his little band of warriors slew their numerous soldiery. The Sid, a man not of princely birth, through the exercise of virtues which his time esteemed, courage and shrewdness, had won for himself from the Moors an independent principality. Legend will have begun to color and transform his exploits already during his lifetime. Some fifty years later he had become the favorite hero of popular songs. It was probable that these songs, cantares, were at first brief tales in rude, metrical form, and that the epic poems, dating from about twelve hundred, used them as sources. The earliest poetic monument in Castilian literature which treats of the Sid is called the Poem of My Sid. While based upon history, its material is largely legendary. The date of its composition is doubtful, probably about twelve hundred. The poem, The Beginning is Lost, opens with a departure of My Sid from Bavaire, and describes his Moorish campaigns, culminating with the conquest of Valencia. Two Leonese nobles, the Inventates, princes, of Carian, besiege Alfonso to ask for them in marriage to conquerors' daughters. The Sid ascends. To his king he would refuse nothing, and the marriages are celebrated in Valencia with due pomp. But the princes are errant cowards, to escape the jives of the Sid's companions, after securing rich wedding portions they depart for Carian. In the oak wood of Carpus they pretend a desire to be left alone with their wives. Dispalling them of their outer garments, with saddle-growth and spurred boot, they seek to revenge upon the Sid's daughters that is honoured to which their own base conducts objected them while at the Sid's court. But time brings a requital. The Inventates, called to account, forfeit property and honour, esteeming themselves fortunate to escape with their lives from the judicial duels. The marriages of Navar and Aragon present themselves as suitors, and in second marriages Dona Elvira and Dona Sola become queens of Spain. The marriages with the Infatatus of Carian are pure invention, intended perhaps to defame the Leonese nobility, these nobles being princes of the blood royal. The second marriages, if we substitute Barcelona for Aragon, are historical. Of the Sid's two daughters, one married Prince Romero of Navarra, and the other Count Reynard Beringer III of Barcelona. In 1157 two of the Sid's great-grandchildren, Sancho VI of Navar, and his sister Dona Blanca, queen of Sancho III of Castile, sat on Spanish thrones. Through intermarriage the blood of the Sid has passed into the bourbon and Habsburg lines, with Eleanor of Castile into the English royal house. The poem of my Sid is probably the earliest monument of Spanish literature. It is also, in our opinion, the noblest expression, as far as the characters are concerned, for the verse halts in the description sometimes lags, of the entire medieval folk-epic of Europe. Homeric in its simplicity, its characters are drawn with clearness, firmness, and concision, presenting a variety true to nature, far different from the uniformity we find in the Song of Roland. The spirit which breathes in it is of a noble, well-rounded humanity, a fearless and gentle courage, a manly and modest self-reliance, an unswerving loyalty and simple trust towards country, king, kinsmen, and friends, a child faith in God, slightly tinged with superstition, for my Sid believes in auguries, and a chaste, tender family affection, where the wife is loved and honored as wife and his mother, and the children's welfare fills the father's thoughts. The duplicity of the historical Sid has left indeed its traces. When abandoning Castile he sends to two Jewish moneylenders of Burgos, chests filled, as he pretends, with fine gold, but in reality with sand, borrows upon the security, and so far as we are informed never repays the loan. The princes of Caryon, his sons-in-law, are duped into thinking that they will escape from the accounting with the loss of Tizon and Colada, the swords which the Sid gave them. But a certain measure of prudent shrewdness is not out of place in dealing with men of the treacherous character of the impotatus, and as to the Jewish moneylenders, to spoil them would scarcely have been regarded as an offense against the moral law in medieval Spain. The second poetic monument is variously named. Amandá de los Rios, a historian of Spanish literature, styles it the legend or chronicle of the youth of Urduigo. Its date also is disputed, some authorities placing its composition earlier, some later than that of the poem. The weight of evidence seems to us in favor of the later date. It is rude and of inferior merit, though not without vigorous passages. It treats the earliest period of the Sid's life, and is, so far as we know, purely legendary. The realm of Castilian is at peace under the rule of Ferdinand, the first, when the Count Don Gomez of Gomez makes an unprovoked assent upon the sheepfolds of Diego Lenez. A challenge of battle follows. Rodrigo, only son of Diego, a lad in his 13th year, insists upon being one of a hundred combatants on the side of his family, and slays Don Gomez in single combat. Jimena, the daughter of Gomez, implores justice of the king. But when Ferdinand declares that there is a danger of an insurrection if Rodrigo be punished, she proposes reconciliation to a marriage. Diego and his son are summoned to the court, where Rodrigo's appearance and conduct terrify all. He denies vassalship and declares to King Ferdinand that my father kissed your hand has foully dishonored me. Ferdinand is ordered to Jimena against his will. Jimena Diaz, not Jimena Gomez, was his historical wife. He vows never to recognize her as wife until he has won five battles with the Moors in open field. Ferdinand plays a very unkingly role in this poem. While his fierce vassal is absent, the king is helpless, and Rodrigo draws near only to assert anew his contempt for the royal authority by blunt refusals of Ferdinand's requests. He is always ready, however, to take up the gauntlet and defend the realm against every enemy, Christian, or more. But this rude courage is cobbled with devout piety, and is not insensible to pity. At the forward of the duero, a wretched leper is encountered, all turned from him with loathing, save Rodrigo, who gives to him a brother's care. It is St. Lazarus, who departing, blesses him. At last a formidable coalition is formed against Spain. The emperor of Germany and the king of France, supported by the Pope and Patriarch, requires of Spain, in recognition of her feudal dependence upon the Roman Empire, a yearly tribute of fifteen noble virgins, besides silver, horses, falcons, etc. Rodrigo appears when Ferdinand is in despair, and kisses at last the royal hand and sign of vassalship. Though the enemy gather countless as the herbs of the fields, even Persia and Armenia furnishing contingents, their battle array is vain. The five kings of Spain cross the Pyrenees. Right before Paris, Rodrigo passes through the midst of the French army, strikes with his hand the gates of the city, and challenges the twelve French peers to combat. The allies, in alarm, implore a truce. At the council, Rodrigo, ceded the defeat of his king and acting as Ferdinand spokesman, curses the pope when the latter offers the imperial crown of Spain. "'We came for that which was to be won,' he declares. "'Not for that already won.'" Just Rodrigo's advice, the truce is accorded to all. Here the poem is interrupted. Besides these two epic poems we have in the earlier Spanish literature two chronicles in prose which describe the life of the Sid, the general chronicle of Alfonso the learned, and the chronicle of the Sid, the latter being drawn from the former, both rest in part upon historical sources, in part upon legend and tradition. Two centuries and more after the poem we meet with the romances or ballads of the Sid, for the earliest of these do not in their present form date far back of fifteen hundred. These ballads derive from all sources, but chiefly from the Sid legend, which is here treated in a lyric, sentimental, popular, and at times even vulgar tone. Guaman de Castro, 1569-1631, chose two themes from the life of the Sid for dramatic treatment, composing a dual drama-styled La Mocadera del Sid, the Youth of the Sid. The first part is the more important. De Castro, drawing from the ballads, told again the story of the insult to Don Diego, according to the ballads, a blow in the face given by Don Gomez in a moment of passion, its revenge, the pursuit of Rodrigo by Jimena, demanding justice of King Ferdinand, and finally the reconciliation through marriage. But De Castro added love, and the conflict in the mind of Rodrigo, and in that of Jimena between affection and the claims of honor. Cornel recast de Castro's first drama in his La Sid, condensing it and giving to the verse greater dignity and nobility. The French dramatist has worked with entire independence here, and both in what he has admitted and what he has added has usually shown an unerring dramatic instinct. In certain instances, however, through ignorance of the spirits and sources of the Spanish drama he has aired, but the invention is wholly De Castro's, and many of Cornel's most admired passages are either free translations from the Spanish, or expressions of some thought or sentiment contained in De Castro's version. In more recent times, Herter has enriched German literature with free renderings of some of the Sid ballads. Victor Hugo has drawn from the Sid theme in his La Légion de Cigales, The Legend of the Centuries, Fresh Inspiration for His Muse. Charles Sprig Smith From the Poem of My Sid, Leaving Burgos With tearful eyes he turned to gaze upon the wreck behind. His rifled coffers burst in gates all open to the wind. Nor mental left nor robe of fur strept bare his castle hall. Nor hawk nor falcant in the mew, the perches empty all. And forth in sorrow went My Sid, and a deep sigh sighed he. Yet with a measured voice and calm My Sid spake loftily. I thank thee, God our Father, Thou that dwellest upon high, I suffer cruel wrong today, but of my enemy. As they came riding from Bavar the crow was on the right. By Burgos's gate upon the left the crow was there in sight. My Sid he shrugged his shoulders and he lifted up his head. Good tidings, Al Verbenes! We are banished men, he said. With sixty lances in his train My Sid rode up the town, the Burgers and their dames from all the windows looking down. And there were tears in every eye, and on each lip one word. A worthy vassal would to God he served a worthy Lord. Farewell to his wife at St. Pedro de Cardena. The prayer was said, the mass was sung, they mounted it apart. My Sid a moment stayed to press Jimena to his heart. Jimena kissed his hand, as one distraught with grief was she. He looked upon his daughters, these to God I leave, said he. As when the fingernail from out the flesh is torn away, even so sharp to him and them the parting pang that day. Then to his saddle sprang my Sid and forth his vassals led, but ever as he rode to those behind he turned his head. The then cried my Sid, in charity as to the rescue, ho! With bucklers braced before their breast, with lances pointing low, with stooping crests and heads bent down above the saddle bow, all firm of hand and high of heart they ruled upon the foe. And he that in a good hour was born his clarion voice rings out, and clear above the clang of arms is heard his battle shout. Among them gentlemen, strike home for the love of charity, The champion of Avar is his, Roy Diaz, I am he. Then bearing where Bemeru still maintains unequal fight, three hundred lances down they come, their penions flickering white. Down go three hundred moors to earth, a man to every blow, and when they wheel three hundred more as charging back they go. It was a sight to see, the lances rise and fall that day, the shivered shields and ribbon mail to see how thick they lay. The penins that when in snow white came out gory red, the horses riding bridaless, the riders lying dead. While moors calling them Muhammad and St. James the Christians cry, and sixty score of moors and moor in narrow compass lie. The Challenges Seen from the challenges that preceded the judicial duels. Farendo, one of the Amphinates, has just declared that he did right in spurning the Sid's daughters. The Sid turns to his nephew. Now is the time, dumb Peter, speak, O man that Sid is to dispute. My daughters and thy cousin's name and fame are in dispute. To me they speak, to thee they look to answer every word. If I am left to answer now, thou canst not draw thy sword. Tungtide Bemeru stood, a while he strode for words in vain. But look you, when he once began he made his meeting plain. Sid, first I have a word for you. You always are the same. In Cortes every driving me, dumb Peter is the name. It never was a gift of mine, and that long since you know. But have you found me fail and ought that fell to me to do? You lie, Farendo, lie on all you say upon that score. The honour was to you, not him, the Sid can be adore. For I know something of your worth, and somewhat I can tell. That day beneath Valencia Wall, you recollect it well. You prayed the Sid to place you in the forefront of the fray. You spied a moor, and valiantly you went that moor to slay. And then you turned and fled, for his approach you would not stay. Right soon he would have taught you, towards a sorry game to play. Had I not been in battle there to take your place that day. I slew him on the first one fall. I gave his deed to you. To no man have I told the tale from that hour hither too. Before my Sid and all his men you cut yourself in name. How you in single combat slew a moor, a deed of fame. And all believed in your exploit they wist not of your shame. You are as craven at the core, tall-handsome as you stand. How dear you talk as now you talk, you tongue without a hand. Now take thou my defiance as a traitor, trothless knight. Upon this plea before our king Alfonso will I fight. The daughters of my lord are wronged. Their wrong is mine to write. At ye these ladies did desert the baser are ye then, for what are they, weak women, and what are ye, strong men? On every count I deem their cause to be the holier, and I will make thee own it when we meet in battle here. Traitor thou shalt confess thyself, so help me God on high, and all that I have said to day my sword shall verify. Thus far these two, Diego rose, and spoke as ye shall hear. Once by our birth are we, of stain our lineage is clear, and this alliance with my Sid there was no parity. If we his daughters cast aside, no cause for shame we see, and little need we care if they, in mourning, pass their lives, and during the reproach they cling to scorned rejected wives. In leaving them we but uphold our honour and our right, and ready to the death am I, maintaining this, to fight. Spring upon his feet, false hound, will you not silent keep that mouth where truth was never found? For you to boast, the lion's scare have you forgotten, too? How through the open door you rushed across the courtyard flew, how sprawling in your terror on the wine-press beam you lay! Ah! Nevermore, I throw, you wore the mantle of that day. There is no choice. The issue now the sword alone can try. The daughters of my Sid ye spurned. That must ye justify. On every count I hear declare their cause the cause of right, and thou shalt own thy treachery the day we join in fight. He ceased, and striding up the hall a gun-sile has passed. His cheek was flush with wine, for he had stayed to break his fast. Ungirt his robe, and trailing low his ermine mantle hung. Rude was his bearing to the court, and reckless was his tongue. What a to-do is here, my lords! Was a like ever seen? What talk is this about my Sid? Him of Bavaire, I mean. To rear Dorina let him go to take his miller's rent, and keep his mills going there, as once he was content. He, foresooth, made his daughters with accounts of carrion. Up started Monoghostia's. False, thou mouth-nave, have done! Thou glutton want to break thy fast without a thought or prayer, whose heart is plotting mischief when thy lips are speaking fair, whose plighted word to friend or lord hath ever proved a lie, false always to thy fellow men, falseer to God on high. No share in thy goodwill I seek, one only boon I pray, the chance to make thee own thyself the villain that I say. Then spoke the king. Enough of words. You have my leave to fight. The challenged and the challengers. And God defend the right. CONCLUSION And from the field of honour went Don Rudrich champion three. Thanks be to God, the Lord of all, that gave the victory. But in the lands of carrion it was a day of woe, and on the lords of carrion it fell a heavy blow. He who ennoble lady wrongs and casts aside, may he meet like requittle for his deeds or worse, if worse there be. But let us leave them where they lie, their mead is all men's gorn. Turn we to speak of him that in a happy hour was born. Valencia the great was glad, rejoiced at heart to see, the honoured champions of her lord return in victory. And Rudia's grasped his beard. Thanks be to God, said he, of part or lot in carrion, now how my daughter is free. Now may I give them without shame, who ere their sooters be. And favoured by the king himself, Alfonso of Lyon, prosperous was the wooing of Navaire and Aragon. The bridles of the Vyra and of Sol in splendour passed. Stately the former nuptials were, but certainly afar the last. And he that in a good hour was born, behold how he hath sped, his daughters now to higher rank and greater honour wed. Sought by Navaire and Aragon, for queens his daughters twain, and monarchs of his blood to-day upon the thrones of Spain. And so his honour in the land grows greater day by day, upon the fees to Pentecost from life he passed away. For him and all of us the grace of Christ let us implore, and here ye have the story of my Sid compiador. Translation of John Ormsby. Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Volume 9, Section 26, Earl of Clarendon, Edward Hyde, 1609-1674. The statesman, first known as Mr. Hyde of the Inner Temple, then as Sir Edward Hyde, and finally as the Earl of Clarendon, belongs to the small but most valuable and eminent band who have both made and written history, a group which includes among others Caesar, Procopius, Sully and Babre, and on a smaller scale of active importance, Amienus and Finlay. Then in Denton Wiltshire, 1609, he was graduated at Oxford in 1626 and had attained a high standing in his profession when the civil troubles began, and he determined to devote all his energies to his public duties in Parliament. During the momentous period of the long Parliament, he was strongly on the side of the people until the old abuses had been swept away, but he would not go with them in paralyzing the royal authority from distrust of Charles, and when the civil war broke out, he took the royal side, accompanying the king to Oxford and remaining his ablest advisor and loyal friend. He was the guardian of Charles II in exile, and in 1661, after the restoration, was made Lord Chancellor and Chief Minister. Lord Macaulay says of him, he was well fitted for his great place. No man wrote abler state papers. No man spoke with more weight and dignity in Council and Parliament. No man was better acquainted with General Maxims of Statecraft. No man observed the varieties of character with a more discriminating eye. It must be added that he had a strong sense of moral and religious obligation, a sincere reverence for the laws of his country, and a conscientious regard for the honor and interest of the Crown. But his faults were conspicuous. One of his critics insisted that, his temper was arbitrary and vehement, his arrogance was immeasurable, his gravity assumed the character of sensoriousness. He took part in important and dangerous negotiations and eventually alienated four parties at once, the royalists by his bill of indemnity, the low churchmen and dissenters by his uniformity act, the many who suffered the legal fine for private assemblages for religious worship, and the whole nation by selling Dunkirk to France. By the court he was hated because he censured the extravagance and looseness of the life led there. And finally Charles, who had long resented his sermons, deprived him of the Great Seal, accused him of high treason, and doomed him to perpetual banishment. Thus, after being the confidential friend of two kings and the future grandfather of two sovereigns, Mary and Anne, he was driven out of England to die in poverty and neglect at Rouen in 1674. But these last days were perhaps the happiest and most useful of his life. He now indulged his master passion for literature and revised his history of the rebellion which he had begun while a fugitive from the rebels in the Isle of Jersey. In this masterpiece, one of the greatest ornaments of the historical literature of England, he has described not only the events in which he participated, but noted people of the time whom he had personally known. The book is written in a style of sober and stately dignity, with great acuteness of insight and weightiness of comment. It incorporates part of an autobiography afterwards published separately, and is rather out of proportion. His other works are The Essay on an Active and Contemplative Life, The Life of Edward, Earl of Clarendon, Dialogues on Education, and The Want of Respect, Paid to Age, Miscellaneous Essays, and Contemplation of the Psalms of David. The Character of Lord Falkland With celebrating the memory of eminent and extraordinary persons, and transmitting their great virtues for the imitation of posterity, be one of the principal ends and duties of history, it will not be thought impertinent in this place to remember a loss which no time will suffer to be forgotten, and no success or good fortune could repair. In this unhappy battle was slain the Lord Viscount Falkland, a person of such prodigious parts of learning and knowledge, of that inimitable sweetness and delight in conversation, of so flowing and obliging a humanity and goodness to mankind, and of that primitive simplicity and integrity of life, that if there were no other brand upon this odious and accursed civil war than that single loss, it must be most infamous and execrable to all posterity. Before this Parliament, his condition of life was so happy that it was hardly capable of improvement. Before he came to twenty years of age, he was master of a noble fortune which descended to him by the gift of a grandfather without passing through his father or mother, who were then both alive and not well enough contented to find themselves passed by in the descent. His education for some years had been in Ireland, where his father was Lord Deputy, so that when he returned into England to the possession of his fortune, he was unentangled with any acquaintance or friends, which usually grow up by the custom of conversation and therefore was to make a pure election of his company, which he chose by other rules than were prescribed to the young nobility of that time. And it cannot be denied, though he admitted some few to his friendship for the agreeableness of their natures and their undoubted affection to him, that his familiarity and friendship for the most part was with men of the most eminent and sublime parts and of untouched reputation in the point of integrity, and such men had a title to his bosom. He was a great cherisher of wit and fancy and good parts in any man, and if he found them clouded with poverty or want, a most liberal and bountiful patron towards them, even above his fortune, of which in those administrations he was such a dispenser as if he had been trusted with it to such uses. And if there had been the least of vice in his expense, he might have been thought too prodigal. He was constant and pertinacious in whatever he resolved to do, and not to be wearied by any pains that were necessary to that end, and therefore having once resolved not to see London, which he loved above all places, till he had perfectly learned the Greek tongue, he went to his own house in the country and pursued it with that indefatigable industry that it will not be believed in how short a time he was master of it, and accurately read all the Greek historians. In this time, his house being within ten miles of Oxford, he contracted familiarity and friendship with the most polite and accurate men of that university, who found such an immenseness of wit and such a solidarity of judgment in him, so infinite a fancy bound in by a most logical ratio-synation, such a vast knowledge that he was not ignorant in anything. Yet such an excess of humility, as if he had known nothing, that they frequently resorted and dwelt with him, as in a college situated in a pure air, so that his house was a university bound in a less volume, whither they came not so much for repose as study, and to examine and refine those grosser propositions which laziness and consent made current in vulgar conversation. The great opinion he had of the uprightness and integrity of those persons who appeared most active, especially of Mr. Hampton, kept him longer from suspecting any design against the peace of the kingdom. And though he differed commonly from them in conclusions, he believed long their purposes were honest. When he grew better informed what was law, and discerned in them a desire to control that law by a vote of one or both houses, no man more opposed those attempts, and gave the adverse party more trouble by reason and argumentation. In so much as he was, by degrees, looked upon as an advocate for the court to which he contributed so little that he declined those addresses and even those invitations which he was obliged, almost by civility, to entertain. And he was so jealous of the least imagination that he should incline to preferment that he affected even a morosity to the court and to the courtiers, and left nothing undone which might prevent and divert the king's or queen's favor towards him, but the deserving it. For when the king sent for him once or twice to speak with him and to give thanks for his excellent comportment in those councils which his majesty graciously termed doing him service, his answers were more negligent and less satisfactory than might have been expected, as if he cared only that his actions should be just, not that they should be acceptable, and that his majesty should think that they proceeded only from the impulsion of conscience without any sympathy in his affections, which from a stoical and solid nature might not have been misinterpreted. Yet, from a person of so perfect a habit of generous and obsequious compliance with all good men, might very well have been interpreted by the king as more than an ordinary averseness to his service, so that he took more pains and more forced his nature to actions unagreeable and unpleasant to it, that he might not be thought to incline to the court than any man have done to procure an office there. Two reasons prevailed with him to receive the seals, and but for those he had resolutely avoided them. The first consideration that it, his refusal, might bring some blemish upon the king's affairs, and that men would have believed that he had refused so great an honor and trust because he must have been with it, obliged to do somewhat else not justifiable. And this he made matter of conscience, since he knew the king made choice of him before other men, especially because he thought him more honest than other men. The other was lest he might be thought to avoid it out of fear, to do an ungracious thing to the House of Commons, who were sorely troubled at the displacing of Harry Vane, whom they looked upon as removed for having done them those offices they stood in need of, and the disdain of so popular an incumbrance wrought upon him next to the other. For as he had a full appetite of fame by just and generous actions, so he had an equal contempt of it by any servile expedience, and he had so much the more consented to and approved the justice upon Sir Harry Vane in his own private judgment, by how much he surpassed most men in the religious observation of a trust the violation whereof he would not admit of any excuse for. For these reasons he submitted to the king's command and became his secretary, with as humble and devout an acknowledgement of the greatness of the obligation as could be expressed, and as true a sense of it in his own heart. Yet two things he could never bring himself to whilst he continued in that office, that was to his death, for which he was contented to be reproached as for omissions in a most necessary part of his office, the one employing of spies or giving any countenance or entertainment to them. I do not mean such emissaries as with danger would venture to view the enemy's camp and bring intelligence of their number and quartering, or such generals as such an observation can comprehend, but those who by communication of guilt or dissimulation of manners wound themselves into such trusts and secrets as enabled them to make discoveries for the benefit of the state. The other, the liberty of opening letters upon a suspicion that they might contain matter of dangerous consequence. For the first he would say such instruments must be void of all ingenuity and common honesty before they could be of use, and afterwards they could never be fit to be credited, and that no single preservation could be worth so general a wound and corruption of human society as the cherishing such persons would carry with it. The last he thought such a violation of the law of nature that no qualification by office could justify a single person in the trespass, and though he was convinced by the necessity and iniquity of the time that those advantages of information were not to be declined and were necessarily to be practiced, he found means to shift it from himself. When he confessed he needed excuse and pardon for the omission, so unwilling he was to resign anything in his nature to an obligation in his office. In all other particulars he filled his place plentifully, being sufficiently versed in languages to understand any that are used in business and to make himself again understood, to speak of his integrity and his high disdain of any bait that might seem to look towards corruption in Tanto Viro in Gioria Virtutum Fuaret, in the case of so great a man would be an insult to his merits. He had a courage of the most clear and keen temper and so far from fear that he was not without appetite of danger, and therefore upon any occasion of action he always engaged his person in those troops which he thought by the forwardness of the commanders to be most like to be farthest engaged, and in all such encounters he had about him a strange cheerfulness and companionableness without at all affecting the execution that was then principally to be attended, in which he took no delight but took pains to prevent it where it was not by resistance necessary. In so much that at Edge Hill when the enemy was routed he was like to have incurred great peril by interposing to save those who had thrown away their arms, and against whom it may be others were more fierce for their having thrown them away. In so much as a man might think he came into the field only out of curiosity to see the face of danger and charity to prevent the shedding of blood, yet in his natural inclination he acknowledged that he was addicted to the profession of a soldier and shortly after he came to his fortune and before he came to age he went into the low countries with a resolution of procuring command and to give himself up to it, from which he was converted by the complete inactivity of that summer, and so he returned into England and shortly after entered upon that vehement course of study we mentioned before till the first alarm from the north and then again he made ready for the field and though he received some repulse in the command of a troop of horse of which he had a promise he went volunteer with the Earl of Essex from the entrance into this unnatural war his natural cheerfulness and vivacity grew clouded and a kind of sadness and dejection of spirit stole upon him which he had never been used to yet being one of those who believed that one battle would end all differences and that there would be so great a victory on the one side that the other would be compelled to submit to any conditions from the victor which supposition and conclusion generally sunk into the minds of most men and prevented the looking after many advantages which might then have been laid hold of he resisted those in dispositions et in luck to bellum intermedia errat and in his grief strife was one of his curatives but after the king's return from brentford and the furious resolution of the two houses not to admit any treaty for peace those in dispositions which had before touched him grew into a perfect habit of un cheerfulness and he who had been so exactly unreserved and affable to all men that his face and countenance was always present and vacant to his company and held any cloudiness and less pleasantness of the visage a kind of rudeness or incivility became on a sudden less communicable and thence very sad pale and exceedingly affected with the spleen in his clothes and habit which he had intended before always with more neatness and industry and expense than is usual and so great a mind he was now not only in curious but too negligent and in his reception of suitors and the necessary or casual addresses to his place so quick and sharp and severe that there wanted not some men who were strangers to his nature and disposition who believed him proud and imperious from which no mortal man was ever more free the truth is that as he was of a most incomparable gentleness application and even a dismisseness and submission to good and worthy and entire men so he was naturally which could not but be more evident in his place which objected him to another conversation and intermixture than his own election had done at versus mallos in jucundice toward evildoers ungracious and was so ill a dissembler of his dislike and disinclination to ill men that it was not possible for such not to discern it there was once in the house of commons such a declared acceptation of the good service an eminent member had done to them and as they said to the whole kingdom that it was moved he being present that the speaker might in the name of the whole house give him thanks and then that every member might as a testimony of his particular acknowledgement stir or move his hat towards him the witch though not ordered when very many did the lord falconed who believed the service itself not to be of that moment and that an honorable and generous person could not have stood to it for any recompense instead of moving his hat stretched both his arms out and clasped his hands together upon the crown of his hat and held it closed down to his head that all men might see how odious that flattery was to him and the very approbation of the person though at that time most popular when there was any overture or hope of peace he would be more erect and vigorous and exceedingly solicitous to press anything which he thought might promote it and sitting amongst his friends often after a deep silence and frequent sighs would with a shrill and sad accent in geminate the word peace peace and would passionately profess that the very agony of the war and the view of the calamities and desolation the kingdom did and must endure took his sleep from him and would shortly break his heart this made some think or pretend to think that he was so much enamored on peace that he would have been glad the king should have bought it at any price which was a most unreasonable calamity as if a man that was himself the most punctual and precise in every circumstance that might reflect upon conscience or honor could have wished the king to have committed a trespass against either in the morning before the battle as always upon action he was very cheerful and put himself into the first rank of the lord byron's regiment who was then advancing upon the enemy who had lined the hedges on both sides with musketeers from whence he was shot with a musket in the lower part of the belly and in the instant falling from his horse his body was not found till the next morning till when there was some hope he might have been a prisoner though his nearest friends who knew his temper received small comfort from that imagination thus fell that incomparable young man in the fourth and thirtieth year of his age having so much dispatched the business of life that the oldest rarely attain to that immense knowledge and the youngest enter not into the world with more innocence and whosoever leads such a life needs not care upon how short warning it be taken from him end of section 26 section 27 library of the world's best literature ancient and modern volume nine this is a libra vox recording all libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libra vox.org recording by rita butros library of the world's best literature ancient and modern volume nine section 27 marcus a h clark 1846 to 1881 although a native of england marcus clark is always classed as an australian novelist the son of a barrister he was born in kensington april 24th 1846 in 1864 he went to seek his fortune in australia his taste for adventure soon led him to the bush where he acquired many experiences afterwards used by him for literary material drifting into journalism he joined the staff of the melbourne argus after publishing a series of essays called the peripatetic philosopher he purchased the australian magazine the name of which he changed to the colonial monthly and in 1868 published in it his first novel entitled long odds owing to a long illness this tale of sporting life was completed by other hands when he resumed his literary work he contributed to the melbourne punch and edited the humbug a humorous journal he dramatized charles reeds and dion busicole's novel of foul play adapted molier's bourgeois gentilon wrote a drama entitled plot successfully performed at the princess theater in 1873 and another play called a daughter of eve he was connected with the melbourne press until his death august 2nd 1881 clark's literary fame rests upon the novel his natural life a strong story describing the life of an innocent man under a life sentence for felony the story is repulsive but gives a faithful picture of the penal conditions of the time and is built upon official records it appeared in the australian magazine and before it was issued in book form clark with the assistance of sir charles gaven duffy revised it almost beyond recognition it was republished in london in 1875 and in new york in 1878 he was also the author of old tales of a new country holiday peak another collection of short stories four stories high and an unfinished novel called phoenix and felicitas clark was a devoted student of balzac and po and some of his sketches of rough life in australia have been compared to brett hart's pictures of primitive california days his power in depicting landscape is shown by this glimpse of a midnight ride in the bush taken from holiday peak there is an indescribable gasliness about the mountain bush at midnight which has affected most imaginative people the grotesque and distorted trees huddled here and there together in the gloom like whispering conspirators the little open flats encircled by boulders which seem the forgotten altars of some unholy worship the white bear and ghostly gum trees gleaming momentarily among the deeper shades of the forest the lonely pools begirt with shivering reeds and haunted by the melancholy bittern only the rifted and draggled creek bed which seems violently gouged out of the lacerated earth by some savage convulsion of nature the silent and solitary places where a few blasted trees crouched together like withered witches who brooding on some deed of blood have suddenly been stricken horror stiff riding through this nightmare landscape a war of wings and a harsh cry disturb you from time to time hideous and mocking laughter peels above and about you and huge gray ghosts with little red eyes hop away in gigantic but noiseless bounds you shake your bridle the mare lengthens her stride the tree trunks run into one another the leaves make overhead a continuous curtain the earth reels out beneath you like a strip of gray cloth spun by a furiously flying loom the air strikes your face sharply the bush always gray and colorless parts before you and closes behind you like a fog you lose yourself in this prevailing indecision of sound and color you become drunk with the wine of the night and losing your individuality sweep onward a flying phantom in a land of shadows selection how a penal system can work by marcus a h clark from his natural life the next two days were devoted to sightseeing silvia frayer was taken through the hospital and the workshops shown the semaphores and shut up by morise in a dark cell her husband and burgess seemed to treat the prison like a tame animal whom they could handle at their leisure and whose natural ferocity was kept in check by their superior intelligence this bringing of a young and pretty woman into immediate contact with bolts and bars had about it an incongruity which pleased them morise frayer penetrated everywhere questioned the prisoners gested with the jailers even in the munificence of his heart bestowed tobacco on the sick with such graceful rattleings of dry bones they got by and by to point pura where a luncheon had been provided an unlucky accident had occurred at point pure that morning however and the place was in a suppressed ferment a refractory little thief named peter brown aged 12 years had jumped off the high rock and drowned himself in full view of the constables these jumpings off had become rather frequent lately and burges was enraged at one happening on this particular day if he could by any possibility have brought the corpse of poor little peter brown to life again he would have soundly whipped it for its impertinence it is most unfortunate he said to frayer as they stood in the cell where the little body was laid that it should have happened today oh says frayer frowning down upon the young face that seemed to smile up at him it can't be helped i know those young devils they do it out of spite what sort of character had he very bad johnson the book johnson bringing it the two saw peter brown's inequities set down in the neatest of running hand and the record of his punishments ornamented in quite an artistic way with flourishes of red ink 20th november disorderly conduct 12 lashes 24th november insolence to hospital attendant diet reduced fourth december stealing cap from another prisoner 12 lashes 15th december absenting himself at roll call two days cells 23rd december insolence and insubordination two days cells 8th january insolence and insubordination 12 lashes 20th january insolence and insubordination 12 lashes 22nd february insolence and insubordination 12 lashes and one week's solitary sixth march insolence and insubordination 20 lashes that was the last asked frayer yes sir says johnson and then he um did it just so sir that was the way of it just so the magnificent system starved and tortured a child of 12 until he killed himself that was the way of it after the farce had been played again and the children had stood up and sat down and sung a hymn and told how many twice five were and repeated their belief in one god the father almighty maker of heaven and earth the party reviewed the workshops and saw the church and went everywhere but into the room where the body of peter brown age 12 lay starkly on its wooden bench staring at the jail roof which was between it and heaven just outside this room sylvia met with a little adventure meekon had stopped behind and burgess being suddenly summoned for some official duty frayer had gone with him leaving his wife to rest on a bench that placed at the summit of the cliff overlooked the sea while resting thus she became aware of another presence and turning her head beheld a small boy with his cap in one hand and a hammer in the other the appearance of the little creature clad in a uniform of gray cloth that was too large for him and holding in his withered little hand a hammer that was too heavy for him had something pathetic about it what is it you might ask sylvia we thought you might have seen him mom said the little figure opening its blue eyes with wonder at the kindness of the tone him whom cranky brown mom returned the child him as did it this morning me and billy knowed him mom he was a mate of ours and we wanted to know if he looked happy what do you mean child said she with a strange terror at her heart and then filled with pity at the aspect of the little being she drew him to her with sudden womanly instinct and kissed him he looked up at her with joyful surprise oh he said sylvia kissed him again does nobody ever kiss you poor little man said she mother used to was the reply but she's at home oh them with a sudden crimsoning of the little face may I fetch billy and taking courage from the bright young face he gravely marched to an angle of the rock and brought out another little creature with another gray uniform and another hammer this is billy mom he said billy never had no mother kiss billy the young wife felt the tears rush to her eyes you two poor babies she cried and then forgetting that she was a lady dressed in silk and lace she fell on her knees in the dust and folding the friendless pair in her arms wept over them what is the matter sylvia said frair when he came up you've been crying nothing morris at least I will tell you buy and buy when they were alone that evening she told him of the two little boys and he laughed artful little humbugs he said and supported his argument by so many illustrations of the precocious wickedness of juvenile felons that his wife was half convinced against her will unfortunately when sylvia went away tommy and billy put into execution a plan which they had carried in their poor little heads for some weeks I can do it now said tommy I feel strong will it hurt much tommy said billy who was not so courageous not so much as a whipping I'm afraid oh tom it's so deep don't leave me tom the bigger boy took his little handkerchief from his neck and with it bound his own left hand to his companion's right now I can't leave you what was it the lady that kissed us said tommy lord have pity of them two fatherless children repeated tommy let's say a tom and so the two babies knelt on the brink of the cliff and raising the bound hands together looked up at the sky and ungrammatically said lord have pity on we too fatherless children and then they kissed each other and did it selection the valley of the shadow of death by marcus ah clark from his natural life it was not until they had scrambled up the beach to safety that the absconders became fully aware of the loss of another of their companions as they stood on the break of the beach ringing the water from their clothes gabbitt's small eye counting their number missed the stroke or wears cocks the fool fell overboard said jimmy vetch shortly he never had as much sense in that skull of his as would keep its sound on his shoulders gabbitt's scald that's three of us gone he said in the tones of a man suffering some personal injury they summed up their means of defense against attack sanders and greenhill had knives gabbitt still retained the axe in his belt vetch had dropped his musket at the neck and botanum and cornelius were unarmed let's have a look at the tucker said vetch there was but one bag of provisions it contained a piece of salt pork two loaves and some uncooked potatoes signal hill station was not rich in edibles that ain't much said the crow with rueful face is it gabbitt it must do anyway return the giant carelessly the inspection over the six proceeded up the shore and encamped under the lee of a rock botanum was for lighting a fire but vetch who by tacit consent had been chosen leader of the expedition for bad it saying that the light might betray them they'll think we're drowned and won't pursue us he said so all that night the miserable wretches crouched fireless together morning breaks clear and bright and free for the first time in ten years they comprehend that their terrible journey has begun where are we to go how are we to live asks botanum scanning the barren bush that stretches to the barren sea gabbitt you've been out before how's it done we'll make the shepherd's huts and live on their tucker till we get a change of clothes said gabbitt evading the main question we can follow the coastline steady lads said prudent vetch we must sneak round yon sand hills and so creep into the scrub if they have a good glass at the neck they can see us it does seem close said botanum i could pitch a stone onto the guardhouse goodbye you bloody spot he adds with sudden rage shaking his fist vindictively at the penitentiary i don't want to see you no more till the day of judgment vetch divides the provisions and they travel all that day until dark night the scrub is prickly and dense their clothes are torn their hands and feet bleeding already they feel outwearyed no one pursuing they light a fire and sleep the second day they come to a sandy spit that runs out into the sea and find that they have got too far to the eastward and must follow the shoreline to east bay neck back through the scrub they drag their heavy feet that night they eat the last crumb of the loaf the third day at high noon after some toil some walking they reach a big hill now called collins mount and see the upper link of the ear ring the it's mess of east bay neck at their feet a few rocks are on their right hand and blue in the lovely distance lies hated maria island we must keep well to the eastward set green hill or we shall fall in with the settlers and get taken so passing the it's mess they strike into the bush along the shore and tightening their belts over their gnawing bellies camp under some low lying hills the fourth day is notable for the indisposition of badenham who is a bad walker and falling behind delays the party by frequent cooies gabot threatens him with a worse fate than sore feet if he lingers luckily that evening green hill espies a hut but not trusting to the friendship of the occupant they wait until he quits it in the morning and then send vetch to forage vetch secretly congratulating himself on having by his council prevented violence returns bending under half a bag of flour you'd better carry the flour said he to gabot and give me the axe gabot eyes him for a while as if struck by his puny form but finally gives the axe to his mate sanders that day they creep along cautiously between the sea and the hills camping at a creek vetch after much search finds a handful of berries and adds them to the main stock half of this handful is eaten at once the other half reserved for tomorrow the next day they come to an arm of the sea and as they struggle northward maria island disappears and with it all danger from telescopes that evening they reach the camping ground by twos and threes and each wonders between the paroxysms of hunger if his face is as haggard and his eyes as bloodshot as those of his neighbor on the seventh day bad num says his feet are so bad he can't walk and green hill with a greedy look at the berries bids him stay behind being in a very weak condition he takes his companion at his word and drops off about noon the next day gabot discovering this defection however goes back and in an hour or so appears driving the wretched creature before him with blows as a sheep is driven to the shambles and green hill demonstrates at another mouth being thus forced upon the party but the giant silences him with a hideous glance jimmy vetch remembers that green hill accompanied gabot once before and feels uncomfortable he gives hint of his suspicions to sanders but sanders only laughs it is horribly evident that there is an understanding among the three the ninth son of their freedom rising upon sandy and barren hillocks bristling thick with cruel scrub sees the six famine stricken wretches cursing their god and yet afraid to die all round is the fruitless shadeless shelterless bush above the pitiless heaven in the distance the remorseless sea something terrible must happen that gray wilderness arched by gray heaven stooping to gray sea is a fitting keeper of hideous secrets vetch suggests that oyster bay cannot be far to the eastward the line of ocean is deceitfully close and though such a proceeding will take them out of their course they resolve to make for it after hobbling five miles they seem no nearer than before and nigh dead with fatigue and starvation sink despairingly upon the ground vetch thinks gabot's eyes have a wolfish glare in them and instinctively draws off from him said green hill in the course of a dismal conversation i am so weak that i could eat a piece of a man on the tenth day bodnum refuses to stir and the others being scarcely able to drag along their limbs sit on the ground about him green hill eyeing the prostrate man said slowly i have seen the same done before boys and it tasted like pork vetch hearing his savage comrade give utterance to a thought all had secretly cherished speaks out crying it would be murder to do it and then perhaps we couldn't eat it oh said gabot with a grin i'll warrant you that but you must all have a hand in it gabot sanders and green hill then go aside and presently sanders coming to the crow said he consented to act as flogger he deserves it so did gabot for that matter shutters vetch i but bodnum's feet are sore said sanders and has a pity to leave him having no fire they made a little windbreak and vetch half dozing behind this at about three in the morning here's someone cry out christ and awakes sweating ice no one but gabot and green hill would eat that night that savage pair however make a fire fling ghastly fragments on the embers and eat the broil before it is right warm in the morning the frightful carcass is divided that day's march takes place in silence and at the midday halt cornelius volunteers to carry the billy affecting great restoration from the food vetch gives it to him and in half an hour afterward cornelius is missing gabot and green hill pursue him in vain and return with curses he'll die like a dog said green hill alone in the bush jemmy vetch with his intellect acute as ever thinks that cornelius prefers such a death to the one in store for him but says nothing the twelfth morning dawns wet and misty but vetch seeing the provision running short strives to be cheerful telling stories of men who have escaped greater peril vetch feels with dismay that he is the weakest of the party but has some sort of ludicro horrible consolation in remembering that he is also the leanest they come to a creek that afternoon and look until nightfall in vain for a crossing place the next day gabot and vetch swim across and vetch directs gabot to cut a long sapling which being stretched across the water is seized by green hill and the mooch are who are dragged over what would you do without me said the crow with a ghastly grin they cannot kindle a fire for green hill who carries the tinder has allowed it to get wet the giant swings his axe in savage anger at enforced cold and vetch takes an opportunity to remark privately to him what a big man green hill is on the 14th day they can scarcely crawl and their limbs pain them green hill who is the weakest sees gabot and the mooch are go aside to consult and crawling to the crow whimpers for god sakes jimmy don't let him murder me i can't help you says vetch looking about in terror think of poor tom badnam but he was no murderer if they kill me i shall go to hell with tom's blood on my soul he rides on the ground in sickening terror and gabot arriving bids vetch bring wood for the fire vetch going sees green hill clinging to wolfish gabot's knees and sandress calls after him you will hear it presently jim the nervous crow puts his hands to his ears but is conscious nevertheless of a dull crash and a groan when he comes back gabot is putting on the dead man's shoes which are better than his own we'll stop here a day or so and rest said he now we've got provisions two more days pass and the three eyeing each other suspiciously resume their march the third day the 16th of their awful journey such portions of the carcass as they have with them prove unfit to eat they look into each other's famine sharpened faces and wonder who next we must all die together said sandress quickly before anything else must happen vetch marks the terror concealed in the words and when the dreaded giant is out of ear shot says for god's sake let's go on alone alec you see what sort of a cove that gabot is he'd kill his father before he'd fast one day they made for the bush but the giant turned and strode toward them vetch skipped nimbly on one side but gabot struck the moocher on the forehead with the axe help jim help cried the victim cut but not fatally and in the strength of his desperation tore the axe from the monster who bore it and flung it to vetch keep it jimmy he cried let's have no more murder done they fare again through the horrible bush until nightfall when vetch in a strange voice called the giant to him he must die either you or he laughs gabot give me the axe no no said the crow his thin malignant face distorted by a horrible resolution i'll keep the axe stand back you shall hold him and i'll do the job sanders seeing them approach knew his end had come and submitted crying give me half an hour to pray for myself they consent and the bewildered wretch knelt down and folded his hands like a child his big stupid face worked with emotion his great cracked lips moved in desperate agony he wagged his head from side to side in pitiful confusion of his brutalized senses i can't think of the words jim pa snarled the cripple swinging the axe we can't starve here all night four days had passed and the two survivors of this awful journey sat watching each other the gaunt giant his eyes gleaming with hate and hunger sat sentinel over the dwarf the dwarf chuckling at his superior sagacity clutched the fatal axe for two days they had not spoken to each other for two days each had promised himself that on the next his companion must sleep and die vetch comprehended the devilish scheme of the monster who had entrapped five of his fellow beings to aid him by their deaths to his own safety and held aloof gabot watched to snatch the weapon from his companion and make the odds even for once and forever in the daytime they traveled on seeking each a pretext to creep behind the other in the nighttime when they faint slumber each stealthily raising a hand caught the wakeful glance of his companion vetch felt his strength deserting him and his brain overpowered by fatigue surely the giant muttering gesticulating and slavering at the mouth was on the road to madness would the monster find opportunity to rush at him and braving the bloodstained axe kill him by main force or would he sleep and be himself a victim unhappy vetch it is the terrible privilege of insanity to be sleepless on the fifth day vetch creeping behind a tree takes off his belt and makes a noose he will hang himself he gets one end of the belt over a bow and then his cowardice bids him pause gabot approaches he tries to evade him and steal away into the bush in vain the insatiable giant ravenous with famine and sustained by madness is not to be shaken off vetch tries to run but his legs bend under him the axe that has tried to drink so much blood feels heavy as lead he will fling it away no he dares not night falls again he must rest or go mad his limbs are powerless his eyelids are glued together he sleeps as he stands this horrible thing must be a dream he is at port arthur or will wake on his palate in the penny lodging house he slept at when a boy is that the deputy come to wake him to the torment of living it is not time surely not time yet he sleeps and the giant grinning with ferocious joy approaches on clumsy tiptoe and seizes the coveted axe on the northeast coast of van demons land is a place called st helens point and a certain skipper being in want of fresh water landing there with a boat's crew found on the banks of the creek a gaunt and blood-stained man clad in tattered yellow who carried on his back an axe and a bundle when the sailors came with insight of him he made signs to them to approach and opening his bundle with much ceremony offered them some of its contents filled with horror at what the maniac displayed they seized and bound him at hobart town he was recognized as the only survivor of the nine desperados who had escaped from colonel author's natural penitentiary end of section twenty seven section twenty eight of library of the world's best literature ancient and modern volume nine this is a libra vox recording a libra vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libra vox.org recording by dion giants salt lake city utah library of the world's best literature ancient and modern volume nine section twenty eight selected works by messias claudius 1740 to 1815 messias claudius best known as the wandspecker boat the messenger from wandspeck was born at rinefield in holstein august 15th 1740 he was of excellent stock coming from a long line of clergymen it was said that scarcely another family in schleswig holstein had given to the church so many sons there is but little to record of the quiet boyhood passed in the picturesque stillness of the north german village at the outset the education of claudius was conducted by his father the village pastor from beginning to end his life was simple moderate and well ordered after finishing his school days at plowin he entered the university of jenna 1759 with the intention of studying theology in order to follow the traditions of the family and enter the ministry this idea he was soon obliged to relinquish on account of a pulmonary weakness and he turned instead to the study of jurisprudence his strongest attraction was towards literature he became a member of the literary guild in jenna and later when he had attained fame as the wandspecker boat he was intimately associated with vaas fl stoberg herder and others of the goten gen fraternity his first verses published in jenna in 1763 under the title tende leon und erzalungan trifles and tales gave no indication of his talents and were no more than the usual student efforts of unconscious imitation they have absolutely no poetic value and are interesting only as they indicate a stage of development in editing his works in later years claudius preserved of this early poetry only one song an ein quela to a spring after leaving the university in 1764 he took a position as private secretary to count holstein in copenhagen and here under the powerful influence of clopstock whose friendship was at this time the most potent element of his life and in the brilliant circle which that poet had drawn around him claudius entered fully into the life of sentiment and ideas which conduced so largely to his intellectual development some years later after a fallow period spent in the quiet of his father's house at reinfeld he settled at onespeck near altona 1771 where in connection with bode he published the onespecker boat the popular weekly periodical so indissolubly associated with his name his contributions under the name of asmus found everywhere the warmest acceptance in 1775 through herder's recommendation claudius was appointed chief land commissioner at darmstadt but circumstances rendering the position uncongenial he returned to his beloved onespeck where he supported his family by his pen until 1788 when crown prince frederick of denmark appointed him reviser of the holstein bank at altona he died in hamburg january 1st 1815 in the house of his son-in-law the bookseller perthas a collection of his works with the title asmus omnia sua sacom portans odor sumpd lake work does onespeck or botan the collected works of the onespeck messenger appeared at hamburg 1775 to 1812 these collected works comprise songs romances fables poems letters etc originally published in various places the translation of saint martin and fenelon marked the pietistic spirit of his later years and is in strong contrast to the exuberance which produced the rine wine lead rine wine song and urines rice um di well urines journey around the world claudius as a poet won the hearts of his countrymen his verses express his idyllic love of nature and his sympathy with rustic life the poet and the man are one his pure and simple style appealed to the popular taste and some of his lyrics have become genuine folk songs speculations on new year's day from the onespecker boat a happy new year a happy new year to my dear country the land of old integrity and truth a happy new year to friends and enemies christians and turks hot and tots and cannibals to all on whom god permits his sun to rise and his reign to fall also to the poor negro slaves who have to work all day in the hot sun it's holy a glorious day the new year's day at other times i can bear that a man should be a little bit patriotic and not make court to other nations true one must not speak evil of any nation the wiser part are everywhere silent and who would revile a whole nation for the sake of the loud ones as i said i can bear at other times that a man should be a little patriotic but on new year's day my patriotism is dead as a mouse and it seems to me on that day as if we were all brothers and had one father who is in heaven as if all the goods of the world were water which god has created for all men as i once heard it said and so i am accustomed every new year's morning to sit down on a stone by the wayside to scratch with my staff in the sand before me and to think of this and of that not of my readers i hold them in all honor but on new year's morning on the stone by the wayside i think not of them but i sit there and think that during the past year i saw the sunrise so often and the moon that i saw so many rainbows and flowers and breathed the air so often and drank from the brook and then i do not like to look up and i take with both hands my cap from my head and look into that then i think also of my acquaintances who have died during the year and how they can talk now with Socrates and Numa and other men of whom i have heard so much good and with John Huss and then it seems as if graves opened round me and shadows with bald crowns and long gray beards came out of them and shook the dust out of their beards that must be the work of the everlasting huntsman who has his doings about the twelfth the old pious long beards would faint sleep but a glad new year to your memory and to the ashes in your graves rine wine with laurel wreath the glasses vintage mellow and drink it gaily dry through farthest europe no my worthy fellow for such in vain you'll try nor hungry nor poland ever could boast it and as for golly as vine saint viet the ridder if he choose may toast it we germans love the rine our fatherland we thank for such a blessing and many more beside and many more though little show possessing well worth our love and pride not everywhere the vine bedecks our border as well the mountain show that harbour in their bosoms foul disorder not worth their room below syringes hills for instance are aspiring to wear a juice like wine but that is all nor mirth nor song inspiring it breathes not of the vine and other hills with buried treasures glowing for wine are far too cold though iron ores and cobalt there are growing and chance some paltry gold the rine the rine their grow the gay plantations oh hallowed be the rine upon his banks are brewed the rich potations of this consoling wine drink to the rine and every coming morrow be mirth and music thine and when we meet a child of care and sorrow will send him to the rine winter a song to be sung behind the stove old winter is the man for me stout hearted sound and steady steel nerves and bones of brass have he come snow come blow he's ready if ever man was well tis he he keeps no fire in his chamber and yet from cold and cough is free in bitterest December he dresses him outdoors at morn nor needs he first to warm him toothache and rheumatists he'll scorn and colic don't alarm him in summer when the woodland rings he asks what mean these noises warm sounds he hates and all warm things most heartily despises but when the fox's bark is loud when the bright hearth is snapping when children round the chimney crowd all shivering and clapping when stone and bone with frost do break and pond and lake are cracking then you may see his old side shake such glee his frame is racking near the north pole upon the strand he has an icy tower likewise in lovely Switzerland he keeps a summer bower so up and down now here now there his regiments maneuver when he goes by we stand and stare and cannot choose but shiver night song the moon is up in splendor and golden stars attend her the heavens are calm and bright trees cast a deepening shadow and slowly off the meadow a mist is rising silver white night's curtains now closing round half a world reposing in calm and holy trust all seems one vast still chamber where weary hearts remember no more the sorrows of the dust translations of Charles T. Brooks end of section 28