The Casque's Lark; or, Victoria, the Mother of the Camps

The vehemence of the accusations of my foster-sister notwithstanding, Tetrik maintained his habitual composure. For a moment he had dropped the mask and flown at me with threats. Now he was himself again. Raising his hands heavenward, he answered with the most unctuous voice that he could summon:

"Victoria, I considered the project that I submitted to you advantageous to Gaul – let us drop it. You accuse me; I am ready to answer for my acts before the senate and the army. Should my death, decreed at your instigation, be of any service to my country, I shall not refuse to you the few days of life that are still left to me. I shall await the decision of the senate. Adieu, Victoria. The future will tell which of us two, you or I, understood the country's interests better, and loved Gaul with the wiser love."

Saying this he took a step toward the door. I dashed forward ahead of him, barred his passage and said:

"You shall not go out! You mean to flee from the punishment that is due to your crimes – "

Tetrik looked me from head to feet with icy haughtiness, and half turning towards Victoria, said:

"What! In your house, violence is attempted upon an old man! Upon a relative who comes to you unsuspecting – "

"I shall respect that which is considered sacred in all countries – hospitality," answered the Mother of the Camps. "You came to me freely, you shall go out freely."

"Sister!" I cried. "Be careful! Your confidence has proved fatal once before – "

Victoria interrupted me with a gesture, and said bitterly:

"You are right – my confidence has been fatal to the country; it weighs upon my heart with remorse – but fear not this time."

Saying this she rang the bell. Mora entered almost immediately. Her mistress whispered a few words in her ear and the servant quickly went out again.

"Tetrik," Victoria proceeded, "I have sent for Captain Paul and several officers. They will come here for you. They will accompany you to your lodging – you shall not leave the place but to appear before your judges."

"My judges! Who are to be my judges?"

"The army will appoint a tribunal – that tribunal will judge you."

"I can be tried only by the senate."

"If the military tribunal finds you guilty, you will then be sent before the senate; if the military tribunal acquits you, you will be free. Only divine vengeance will then be able to reach you."

Mora re-entered the room to inform her mistress that her orders were issued to Captain Paul. Afterwards I remembered, but, alas! too late, that Mora exchanged a few words in a low voice with Tetrik who sat near the door.

"Schanvoch," Victoria said to me, "did you hear well the conversation that I had with Tetrik?"

"Perfectly. I lost not one word."

"Transcribe it faithfully."

And turning to the Chief of Gaul she said:

"That will be the indictment that I shall bring against you. It shall be read before the military tribunal that is to sit in judgment upon you."

"Victoria," Tetrik replied calmly, "listen to the advice of an old man, who once was and still is your best friend. It is an easy thing to accuse a man, but to prove his crime is a more difficult affair – "

"Hold your tongue, detestable hypocrite!" cried Victoria angrily. "Drive me not to extremes – "

And clasping her hands:

"Hesus! Give me the strength to be equitable towards this man. Calm down in me, Oh, Hesus! the ebullitions of anger that might unsettle my judgment!"

Having heard steps behind the door, Mora opened it, and returned to her mistress, saying:

"Captain Paul has arrived."

Victoria made a sign to Tetrik to leave the room. He stepped out heaving a profound sigh and saying in penetrating accents:

"Lord! Lord! Dissipate the blindness of my enemies! Pardon them, as I pardon them!"

CHAPTER VII
THE VISION OF VICTORIA

When the room was cleared of the presence of Tetrik the Mother of the Camps said to her servant, just as the latter was about to leave close upon the heels of Tetrik:

"Mora, my breast is afire. Bring me a cup of water with some honey, to cool me and slake my thirst."

The servant hurriedly nodded her head and vanished with Tetrik, who lingered for a moment at the threshold.

"Oh, my brother!" murmured Victoria despondently when we were again alone. "My long struggle with that man has exhausted me – the sight of evil lames my energies – I feel broken – "

"Want of sleep, excitement, the horror that the sight of Tetrik inspired you with – all this has rendered you feverish. Take a little rest, sister; I shall instantly transcribe your conversation with the man. This very evening justice will be done."

"You are right; I think that if I could sleep a while I should feel relieved. Go, brother, but do not leave the house."

"Would you like Sampso to keep you company?"

"No, I prefer to be alone."

Mora re-entered. She carried a cup filled with the beverage that her mistress had ordered. The latter took the cup and drained its contents with avidity. Leaving my foster-sister to the care of her servant, I went back to my room in order to reproduce the words of Tetrik accurately. I was just about finishing the task, which took me nearly two hours, when Mora dashed in pale and frightened.

"Schanvoch!" she cried panting for breath. "Come! Come quick! Drop your writing! Hasten to my mistress!"

"What is the matter! What has happened?"

"My mistress. Oh! Woe! Woe! Come quick!"

"Victoria! Does any danger threaten her?" I cried, hurrying to the apartment of my foster-sister, while Mora followed me, saying:

"She sent me out of the room – she wanted to be alone. A minute ago I went in – and, woe is me! I saw my poor mistress – "

"Finish speaking – you saw Victoria – "

"I saw her lying on her bed – her eyes open – but they were fixed – she seemed dead – "

I shall never forget the frightful sight that struck my eyes as I stepped into Victoria's chamber. As Mora said, she lay stretched upon her bed motionless, livid, like a corpse. Her fixed, yet sparkling eyes, seemed to have sunk into their orbits; her features, painfully contracted, were of the cold whiteness of marble. A sinister thought flashed through my mind like lightning – Victoria was dying of poison!

"Mora!" I cried throwing myself upon my knees beside the couch of the Mother of the Camps. "Send immediately for the druid physician, and run and tell Sampso to come here!"

The servant rushed out. I took one of Victoria's hands. It was limp and icy.

"Sister! It is I!" I cried – "Schanvoch!"

"Brother," she murmured.

As I heard her muffled, feeble voice, methought the answer proceeded from the bottom of a tomb. A moment later, her eyes, that until then were fixed, turned slowly towards me. The divine intelligence that formerly illumined the beautiful, august and sweet look of my foster-sister seemed extinguished. Nevertheless, by degrees, she recovered consciousness, and said:

"Is it you – brother? I am dying – "

Tossing her head painfully from one side to the other as if seeking something, she made an effort to raise her arm; it dropped immediately beside her; she then proceeded to say:

"See yonder large trunk – open it – you will find in it – a bronze casket – bring it to me – "

I did as I was bid, and deposited a rather heavy bronze casket near her on the couch. At that moment Sampso, whom Mora notified of Victoria's condition, came in.

"Sampso," said Victoria, "take this casket – take it away with you – keep it carefully locked – open it in three days – the key is tied to the lid."

And addressing me:

"Did you transcribe Tetrik's conversation with me?"

"I was just finishing it when Mora ran in to me."

"Sampso, take that casket away to your room immediately, and bring me the parchment on which Schanvoch has just been writing. Go, we have not a minute to spare!"

Sampso obeyed and left the room distracted. I remained alone with Victoria.

"Brother," she said to me, "every minute is precious. Listen to what I have to say to you without interrupting me. I feel that I am dying; I think I know the hand that smote me, without her being herself aware of what she was doing. This crime caps a long series of dark and felonious deeds. My death is at this moment a grave danger to Gaul. We must avert the danger. You are known in the army – my confidence in you is known – call the officers and soldiers together – inform them of Tetrik's schemes. The conversation that you transcribed will be signed by me, in order to verify your words. My life is ebbing fast. Oh! If I but had the time to gather here around my death-bed the officers of the army who this very evening will surround my funeral pyre. Upon that pyre I wish you to lay the arms of my father, my husband and Victorin, also the cradle of my little grandson!"

"Schanvoch!" cried Sampso precipitately entering the room, "The parchments that you left upon the table – have disappeared. But I saw them lying on your desk when Mora came in to call me. They must have been taken away since."

"The parchments were taken away! Oh! What a misfortune to Gaul!" murmured Victoria. "What mysterious hand is it that can thus penetrate my house? Woe, woe is Gaul! Hesus! Omnipotent god! You call me to the unknown worlds, where, perhaps, we may hover over this world that we leave for yonder ones. Hesus! Am I to leave this earth without the assurance of the welfare of the country I love so much? The future terrifies me! Oh, Omnipotent! Allow your spirit to enlighten me at this supreme moment! Hesus, have you heard me?" added Victoria in a louder voice, half rising on her couch; and with inspired eyes she proceeded: "What do I see? Is this the future that unveils itself before my eyes? Who is that woman – so pale, lying prostrate? Her robe is blood-bespattered. Also her chaplet of oaken leaves has drops of blood; the sword, that her virile hand once held, lies broken at her side. One of those savage Franks, his head ornamented with a crown, holds the noble woman under his knees; he looks with mild and timid mien at a man splendidly arrayed as a pontiff. Hesus! The bleeding woman – is Gaul! The barbarian who kneels down upon her – is a Frankish king! The pontiff – is the Bishop of Rome! Blood flows! a stream of blood! it carries in its course, to the light of the flames of conflagrations, a mass of ruins, thousands of corpses! Oh! the woman – Gaul, I see her again wan, worn, clad in rags, the iron collar of servitude on her neck; she drags herself on her knees; bending under a heavy burden! The Frankish king and the Roman bishop quicken the march of enslaved Gaul with their whips! Another torrent of blood; still the glamour of conflagration. Oh, Hesus! Enough! Enough ruins and massacre! Heaven be praised!" cried Victoria, whose face seemed for a moment to beam with divine splendor. "The noble woman has risen to her feet! Behold her – more beautiful, prouder than ever before! Her head is wreathed in a crown of fresh oak-leaves! In one hand she holds a sheaf of grain, grapes and flowers; in the other a red flag,⁴ surmounted by the Gallic cock. Superbly she tramples under foot the fragments of her collar of slavery, the crown of the Frankish kings and that of the Roman pontiffs! Yes, that woman, free at last, stately, glorious and fruitful – she is Gaul! Hesus! Hesus! Be kind to her! Enable her to break the yoke of Kings and Pontiffs! Lead her to freedom, glorious and fruitful without being compelled to reach the goal by wading from century to century through those seas of tears, those seas of blood that affright me!"

These last words wholly exhausted Victoria's strength. Still she made one more effort in her divine exaltation. She raised her eyes to heaven, crossed her arms over her breast, heaved a long sigh, and fell back upon her couch.

The Mother of the Camps, Victoria the Great, was dead!

While she spoke I made superhuman efforts to control my despair. When, however, I saw her expire, I became dizzy, my knees sank under me, my strength, my thoughts fled. I lost consciousness, but I still recollect the sound of many voices and a great tumult in the contiguous apartment whence I heard distinctly the words:

"Tetrik, the Chief of Gaul, is in his death agony – he is dying of poison – "

CHAPTER VIII
CRIME TRIUMPHANT

For several days I lay at death's door, constantly attended, my son, by your second mother. About two weeks passed after the death of Victoria, before I was able to collect and co-ordinate my recollections, and speak with Sampso of our irreparable loss. The last words that struck my ears when, broken with grief, I wholly lost consciousness beside the death-bed of my foster-sister were these:

"Tetrik, the Chief of Gaul, is in his death agony – he is dying of poison."

Indeed Tetrik was, or rather seemed to have been, poisoned at the same time as Victoria. He had hardly stepped into the house of the general of the army, when he seemed seized with severe pangs. When two weeks later I myself returned to life, the life of Tetrik was still despaired of.

I must admit I was stupefied at the strange information; my reason refused to believe the man guilty of a crime of which he was himself a victim.

Victoria's death threw the city of Treves, the army, and later the whole nation into consternation. The funeral of the august Mother of the Camps seemed to be the funeral of Gaul herself. In her sudden taking-off people saw the presage of new evils to the country. The Gallic senate decreed the apotheosis of Victoria. It was celebrated at Treves in the midst of universal sorrow and tears. The pompous solemnity of the druid cult, the chant of the bards, imparted imposing splendor to the ceremony. Embalmed and lying on an ivory couch covered with cloth of gold, Victoria lay in state to the veneration of the citizens who crowded in mass to the house of mourning. The place was constantly invaded by that army of the Rhine of which Victoria was truly the mother. Finally her remains were placed upon the pyre, agreeable to the custom of our fathers. Incense rose along the streets of Treves, crossed by the funeral procession, which was headed by the bards singing on their golden harps the praises of the illustrious woman. The pyre was then set on fire and disappeared in a sheet of flame.

A medal, struck on the very day of the funeral ceremony, represents, on its obverse, the head of the Gallic heroine, casqued as Minerva, and on its reverse, an eagle with outstretched wings flying into space with its eyes fixed upon the sun, the symbol of the druid faith – the soul leaving this world and flying towards the unknown world where it is to be clad in a new body. Under the symbol the ordinary formula was engraved: "Consecration," followed below by these words:

Victoria, Emperor

By that virile appellation Gaul immortalized in her enthusiasm the glorious Mother of the Camps, and wreathed her memory in a title that she had steadily declined during life – a life that was at once modest and sublime, and wholly consecrated to her father, her husband, her son and to the glory and welfare of her country.

My perplexity was profound. The poisoning of Tetrik, who, as it was claimed, still struggled with death, the disappearance of the parchments that contained the traitor's conversation with Victoria, and which she was thereby prevented from signing before dying – all these circumstances rendered the prosecution of the traitor difficult, if not impossible. An accusation lodged by me, an obscure soldier, against Tetrik, who survived as the supreme Chief of Gaul, and whose power was now all the greater, seeing it was no longer counterbalanced by the vast influence of the Mother of the Camps, could not lead to favorable results. Before deciding upon a final course in the matter, I waited for my shattered frame and mind to recover their former vigor.

Three days after Victoria's death, and obedient to the last wishes of the Mother of the Camps, Sampso opened the casket that Victoria gave her. In it my wife found a last touching proof of the thoughtfulness of my foster-sister. There was a parchment with these words inscribed in her own hand:

"We shall never part until death," did we, my good brother Schanvoch, often say to each other; it is your wish, it is mine; but if I am called away before you to live in the unknown worlds, where we shall one day meet again, I shall feel happy on the day when we shall meet again elsewhere than here, at the thought that you have gone back to Brittany, the cradle of your family.

The Roman conquest plundered your family of its ancestral fields. Free once more, Gaul should, in the name of right or by force, have revanquished the heritage of your children from the descendants of the Romans. I know not what will be our country's condition, at the time of our separation. But, hap what hap may, there are three means by which you will be able to revindicate your just heritage – right, money or force. You have the right, you have the force, you have the money – you will find in this casket the sufficient sum with which to buy back, if need be, the fields that belonged to your family, and thenceforth live happy and free near the sacred stones of Karnak, the witnesses of the heroic death of your ancestress Hena, the Virgin of the Isle of Sen.

You have often shown to me the pious relics of your family – I wish to join to them a souvenir of my own. You will find in this casket a bronze lark. I wore that ornament on my casque the day of the battle of Riffenel, at which I saw my son Victorin flash his virgin sword. I wish that you and your family may continue to keep this memento of our fraternal friendship. It is left to you by your foster-sister Victoria; she is of your family – did she not drink the milk of your brave mother?

When you read these lines, my good brother Schanvoch, I shall have been re-born beyond, near those whom I have loved.

Persevere in your fidelity to Gaul and the faith of our fathers. You have approved yourself worthy of your family. May your descendants approve themselves worthy of you, and write, without having to blush, the history of their lives, as Joel, the brenn of the tribe of Karnak, has desired them to do.

Victoria.

Need I tell you, my son, how deeply I was moved by such solicitude on her part? I was at the time steeped in gloom and absorbed by the fear of the grave events that might follow in the wake of Victoria's death. I remained almost insensible to the hope of speedily returning to Brittany, in order to end my days there, on the spot where my ancestors lived. When my health was completely restored, I repaired to the general who commanded the army of the Rhine. An old soldier himself, he was certain to appreciate better than anyone else the serious dangers that Gaul remained exposed to with Victoria's death. I frankly told him the schemes that Tetrik was hatching; I also expressed to him my suspicions regarding the poisoning of my foster-sister. The general made me the following answer:

"The crimes and plots that you accuse Tetrik of are so monstrous, they would bespeak so infernal a soul, that I would hardly believe them, even if they were attested by Victoria herself, our august mother, whom we can never forget. Schanvoch, you are a brave and honest soldier, but your deposition will not suffice to bring the Chief of Gaul to the bar of the senate and the army. Besides, Tetrik is himself about to die; even his own poisoning proves to a certainty that he is innocent of Victoria's death. You would be the only witness against the Chief of Gaul, who has been loved and venerated up to now, seeing that he has always conducted himself as the first subject of Victoria, the real empress of the nation. Take my advice, Schanvoch, invigorate your spirit, that the sudden death of this august woman has so severely shaken. It may be that, shocked by the disaster, your judgment is led astray, and mistakes vague apprehensions for facts. Until now, Tetrik has governed Gaul wisely, thanks to the inspiration of our august Mother. If he dies, he will be regretted by us; if he survives the mysterious crime which he has himself narrowly escaped, we shall continue to honor the man who was pointed out to us by Victoria herself as the fit object of our choice."

The general's answer proved to me that I would never succeed in causing the senate and the army to share my suspicions and convictions, both being so thoroughly prejudiced in favor of the Chief of Gaul.

Tetrik did not die. Hearing of his father's predicament, his son hurried to Treves, and took his father in charge. When he became convalescent, Tetrik held lengthy interviews with the senators and the chiefs of the army. He manifested on the subject of Victoria's death so profound and, to all appearance, sincere a grief; he honored her memory in so pious a manner by a funeral ceremony at which he glorified the illustrious woman, whose omnipotent hand, he said, had so long supported him, and to whom he felt proud of owing his elevation; in short, he seemed so heart-stricken when, pale, worn with his illness, frequently breaking out into tears, and leaning on the arm of his son, he dragged himself with unsteady step to the sad solemnity, that he conquered the affection of the people and the army more completely than ever by the last homage that he rendered to the memory of Victoria.

I then realized how utterly futile it would be to press my accusations against Tetrik. With my heart rent at seeing the fate of Gaul in the hands of a man whom I knew for a traitor, I decided to leave Treves with you, my son, and Sampso, your second mother, and repair to Brittany, the country of our family's nativity, there to seek some consolation for my sorrows.

Nevertheless I felt bound to fulfil what I considered a sacred duty. By dint of constantly interrogating my memory on the subject of the conversation between Tetrik and Victoria, I succeeded in transcribing it a second time, word for word. Of this I made a second copy, and on the eve of my departure took the first draft to the general of the army.

"You are of the opinion," I said to him, "that my reason wanders – keep this narrative – I hope the future may not prove to you the truth of my accusation."

The general took the parchment, and dismissed me with the compassionate mien that is bestowed upon people whose mind is deranged.