It was not, however, by clamor that the contest was to be decided, and the desperate efforts of the assailants were met by an equally vigorous defense on the part of the besieged. The archers, trained by their woodland pastimes to the most effective use of the longbow, shot so rapidly and accurately that no point at which a defender could show the least part of his person escaped theirvcloth-yard shafts. By this heavy discharge, which continued as thick and sharp as hail, two or three of the garrison were slain and several others wounded. But, confident in their armor of proof and in the cover which their situation afforded, the followers of Front-de-Boeuf, and his allies, showed an obstinacy in defense proportioned to the fury of the attack, replying with the discharge of their large cross-bows to the close and continued shower of arrows. As the assailants were necessarily but indifferently protected, they received more damage than they did.
“And I must lie here like a bedridden monk,” exclaimed Ivanhoe, “while the game that gives me freedom or death is played out by the hands of others! Look from the window once again, kind maiden, but beware that you are not marked by the archers beneath—look out once more and tell me if they yet advance to the storm.”
With patient courage, Rebecca again took post at the lattice.
“What dost thou see?” demanded the wounded knight.
“Nothing but the cloud of arrows flying so thick as to dazzle mine eyes and hide the bowmen who shoot them.”
“That cannot endure,” remarked Ivanhoe. “If they press not on to carry the castle by pure force of arms, the archery may avail but little against stone walls and bulwarks. Look for the sable knight and see how he bears himself, for as the leader is, so will his followers be.”
“I see him not,” said Rebecca.
“Foul craven!” exclaimed Ivanhoe; “does he blench from the helm when the wind blows highest?”
“He blenches not! he blenches not!” cried Rebecca. “I see him now; he heads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the barbican. They pull down the piles and palisades; they hew down the barriers with axes. His high black plume floats over the throng, like a raven over the field of the slain. They have made a breach in the barriers—they rush in—they are thrust back! Front-de-Boeuf heads the defenders; I see his gigantic form above the press. They throng again to the breach, and the pass is disputed hand to hand, and man to man. Have mercy, God!”
She turned her head from the lattice, as if unable longer to endure a sight so terrible.
“Look forth again, Rebecca,” urged Ivanhoe, mistaking the cause of her retiring; “the archery must in some degree have ceased, since they are now fighting hand to hand. Look again; there is less danger.”
Rebecca again looked forth and almost immediatelyexclaimed: “Holy prophets of the law! Front-de-Boeuf and the Black Knight fight hand to hand in the breach, amid the roar of their followers, who watch the progress of the strife.” She then uttered a loud shriek, “He is down! he is down!”
“Who is down?” cried Ivanhoe; “tell me which has fallen?”
“The Black Knight,” answered Rebecca, faintly; then shouted with joyful eagerness, “But no—the name of the Lord of Hosts be blessed!—he is on foot again and fights as if there were twenty men’s strength in his single arm. His sword is broken—he snatches an ax from a yeoman—he presses Front-de-Boeuf with blow on blow. The giant stoops and totters like an oak under the steel of a woodsman—he falls—he falls!”
“Front-de-Boeuf?” exclaimed Ivanhoe.
“Front-de-Boeuf!” answered the Jewess. “His men rush to the rescue, headed by the haughty Templar—their united force compels the champion to pause—they drag Front-de-Boeuf within the walls.”
“The assailants have won the barriers, have they not?” Ivanhoe eagerly queried.
“They have! they have!” answered Rebecca; “and they press the besieged hard on the outer wall. Some plant ladders, some swarm like bees and endeavor to ascend upon the shoulders of each other. Down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees on their heads, andas fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men supply their places. Great God! hast thou given men thine own image, that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their brethren!”
“Think not of that,” said Ivanhoe. “This is no time for such thoughts. Who yield—who push their way?”
“The ladders are thrown down,” replied Rebecca, shuddering; “the soldiers lie groveling under them like crushed reptiles; the besieged have the better.”
“Saint George strike for us!” exclaimed the knight; “do the false yeomen give way?”
“No,” exclaimed Rebecca, “they bear themselves right yeomanly—the Black Knight approaches the postern with his huge ax—the thundering blows he deals you may hear above all the din of the battle. Stones and beams are hailed down on the bold champion—he regards them no more than if they were thistle-down or feathers!”
“By Saint John of Acre,” cried Ivanhoe, raising himself joyfully on his couch, “methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed!”
“The postern-gate shakes,” continued Rebecca; “it crashes—it is splintered by his blows—they rush in—the outwork is won! Oh, God! they hurl the defenders from the battlements—they throw them into the moat—men, if ye indeed be men, spare them that can resist no longer!”
“The bridge—the bridge which communicates with the castle—have they won that pass?”
“No,” replied Rebecca. “The Templar has destroyed the plank on which they crossed—few of the defenders escaped with him into the castle—the shrieks and cries you hear tell the fate of the others! Alas! I see it is more difficult to look on victory than on battle.”
“What do they now, maiden?” asked Ivanhoe. “Look forth yet again; this is no time to faint at bloodshed.”
“It is over for the time,” answered Rebecca. “Our friends strengthen themselves within the outwork which they have mastered; it affords them so good a shelter from the foeman’s shot that the garrison only bestow a few bolts on it from interval to interval, as if to disquiet rather than to injure them.”
“Our friends,” said Wilfred, “will surely not abandon an enterprise so gloriously begun and so happily attained. Oh, no! I will put my faith in the good knight whose ax hath rent heart-of-oak and bars of iron.”
VI
During the interval of quiet which followed the first success of the besiegers, the Black Knight was employed in causing to be constructed a sort of floating bridge, or long raft, by means of which he hopedto cross the moat in despite of the resistance of the enemy. This was a work of some time.
When the raft was completed, the Black Knight addressed the besiegers: “It avails not waiting here longer, my friends; the sun is descending in the west, and I may not tarry for another day. Besides, it will be a marvel if the horsemen do not come upon us from York, unless we speedily accomplish our purpose. Wherefore, one of you go to Locksley and bid him commence a discharge of arrows on the opposite side of the castle, and move forward as if about to assault it; while you, true Englishmen, stand by me and be ready to thrust the raft end-long over the moat whenever the postern on our side is thrown open. Follow me boldly across, and aid me to burst yon sally-port in the main wall of the castle. As many of you as like not this service, or are but ill-armed, do you man the top of the outwork, draw your bowstrings to your ears and quell with your shot whoever shall appear upon the rampant. Noble Cedric, wilt thou take the direction of those that remain?”
“Not so,” answered the Saxon. “Lead I cannot, but my posterity curse me in my grave if I follow not with the foremost wherever thou shalt point the way!”
“Yet, bethink thee, noble Saxon,” said the knight, “thou hast neither hauberk nor corslet, nor aught but that light helmet,vtarget, and sword.”
“The better,” replied Cedric; “I shall be thelighter to climb these walls. And—forgive the boast, sir knight—thou shalt this day see the naked breast of a Saxon as boldly presented to the battle as ever you beheld the steel corslet of a Norman warrior.”
“In the name of God, then,” said the knight, “fling open the door and launch the floating bridge!”
The portal which led from the inner wall of the barbican, now held by the besiegers, to the moat and corresponded with a sally-port in the main wall of the castle was suddenly opened. The temporary bridge was immediately thrust forward and extended its length between the castle and outwork, forming a slippery and precarious passage for two men abreast to cross the moat. Well aware of the importance of taking the foe by surprise, the Black Knight, closely followed by Cedric, threw himself upon the bridge and reached the opposite shore. Here he began to thunder with his ax on the gate of the castle, protected in part from the shot and stones cast by the defenders by the ruins of the former drawbridge, which the Templar had demolished in his retreat from the barbican, leaving thevcounterpoise still attached to the upper part of the portal. The followers of the knight had no such shelter; two were instantly shot with cross-bow bolts, and two more fell into the moat. The others retreated back into the barbican.
He Began to Thunder on the Gate[Seepage 323]He Began to Thunder on the Gate
The situation of Cedric and the Black Knight was now truly dangerous and would have been still moreso but for the constancy of the archers in the barbican, who ceased not to shower their arrows on the battlements, distracting the attention of those by whom they were manned and thus affording a respite to their two chiefs from the storm of missiles, which must otherwise have overwhelmed them. But their situation was eminently perilous, and was becoming more so with every moment.
“Shame on ye all!” cried De Bracy to the soldiers around him; “do ye call yourselves cross-bowmen and let these two dogs keep their station under the walls of the castle? Heave over the coping stones from the battlement, an better may not be. Get pick-ax and levers and down with that huge pinnacle!” pointing to a heavy piece of stone-carved work that projected from the parapet.
At this moment Locksley whipped up the courage of his men.
“Saint George for England!” he cried. “To the charge, bold yeomen! Why leave ye the good knight and noble Cedric to storm the pass alone? Make in, yeomen! The castle is taken. Think of honor; think of spoil. One effort and the place is ours.”
With that he bent his good bow and sent a shaft right through the breast of one of the men-at-arms, who, under De Bracy’s direction, was loosening a fragment from one of the battlements to precipitate on the heads of Cedric and the Black Knight. Asecond soldier caught from the hands of the dying man the iron crow, with which he had heaved up and loosened the stone pinnacle, when, receiving an arrow through his headpiece, he dropped from the battlement into the moat a dead man. The men-at-arms were daunted, for no armor seemed proof against the shot of this tremendous archer.
“Do you give ground, base knaves?” cried De Bracy. “vMountjoy Saint Dennis! Give me the lever.”
Snatching it up, he again assailed the loosened pinnacle, which was of weight enough, if thrown down, not only to have destroyed the remnant of the drawbridge, which sheltered the two foremost assailants, but also to have sunk the rude float of planks over which they had crossed. All saw the danger, and the boldest, even the stout friar himself, avoided setting a foot on the raft. Thrice did Locksley bend his shaft against De Bracy, and thrice did his arrow bound back from the knight’s armor ofproof.
“Curse on thy Spanish steel-coat!” said Locksley; “had English smith forged it, these arrows had gone through it as if it had been silk.” He then began to call out: “Comrades! friends! noble Cedric! bear back and let the ruin fall.”
His warning voice was unheard, for the din which the Black Knight himself occasioned by his strokes upon the postern would have drowned twenty war-trumpets. The faithful Gurth indeed sprang forward on the planked bridge to warn Cedric of his impending fate, or to share it with him. But his warning would have come too late; the massive pinnacle already tottered, and De Bracy, who still heaved at his task, would have accomplished it, had not the voice of the Templar sounded close in his ear.
“All is lost, De Bracy; the castle burns.”
“Thou art mad to say so,” replied the knight.
“It is all in a light flame on the western side,” returned Bois-Guilbert. “I have striven in vain to extinguish it.”
“What is to be done?” cried De Bracy. “I vow to Saint Nicholas of Limoges a candlestick of pure gold—”
“Spare thy vow,” said the Templar, “and mark me. Lead thy men down, as if to a sally; throw the postern-gate open. There are but two men who occupy the float; fling them into the moat and push across to the barbican. I will charge from the main gate and attack the barbican on the outside. If we can regain that post, we shall defend ourselves until we are relieved or, at least, until they grant us fair quarter.”
“It is well thought upon,” replied De Bracy; “I will play my part.”
De Bracy hastily drew his men together and rushed down to the postern-gate, which he caused instantly to be thrown open. Scarce was this done erethe portentous strength of the Black Knight forced his way inward in despite of De Bracy and his followers. Two of the foremost instantly fell, and the rest gave way, notwithstanding all their leader’s efforts to stopthem.
“Dogs!” cried De Bracy; “will ye let two men win our only pass for safety?”
“He is the devil!” replied a veteran man-at-arms, bearing back from the blows of their sable antagonist.
“And if he be the devil,” said De Bracy, “would you fly from him into the mouth of hell? The castle burns behind us, villains! Let despair give you courage, or let me forward. I will cope with this champion myself.”
And well and chivalrously did De Bracy that day maintain the fame he had acquired in the civil wars of that dreadful period. The vaulted passages in which the two redoubted champions were now fighting hand to hand rang with the furious blows they dealt each other, De Bracy with his sword, the Black Knight with his ponderous ax. At length the Norman received a blow, which, though its force was partly parried by his shield, descended yet with such violence on his crest that he measured his length on the paved floor.
“Yield thee, De Bracy,” said the Black Knight, stooping over him and holding against the bars of his helmet the fatal poniard with which knights despatched their enemies; “yield thee, Maurice de Bracy, rescueor no rescue, or thou art but a dead man. Speak!”
The gallant Norman, seeing the hopelessness of further resistance, yielded, and was allowed to rise.
“Let me tell thee what it imports thee to know,” he said. “Wilfred of Ivanhoe is wounded and a prisoner, and will perish in the burning castle without present help.”
“Wilfred of Ivanhoe!” exclaimed the Black Knight. “The life of every man in the castle shall answer if a hair of his head be singed. Show me his chamber!”
“Ascend yonder stair,” directed De Bracy. “It leads to his apartment.”
The turret was now in bright flames, which flashed out furiously from window and shot-hole. But, in other parts, the great thickness of the walls and the vaulted roofs of the apartments resisted the progress of the fire, and there the rage of man still triumphed; for the besiegers pursued the defenders of the castle from chamber to chamber. Most of the garrison resisted to the uttermost; few of them asked quarter—none received it. The air was filled with groans and the clashing of arms.
Through this scene of confusion the Black Knight rushed in quest of Ivanhoe, whom he found in Rebecca’s charge. The knight, picking up the wounded man as if he were a child, bore him quickly to safety. In the meantime, Cedric had gone in search of Rowena, followed by the faithful Gurth. The nobleSaxon was so fortunate as to reach his ward’s apartment just as she had abandoned all hope of safety and sat in expectation of instant death. He committed her to the charge of Gurth, to be carried without the castle. The loyal Cedric then hastened in quest of his friend Athelstane, determined at every risk to himself to save the prince. But ere Cedric penetrated as far as the old hall in which he himself had been a prisoner, the inventive genius of Wamba had procured liberation for himself and his companion.
When the noise of the conflict announced that it was at the hottest, the jester began to shout with the utmost power of his lungs, “Saint George and the Dragon! Bonny Saint George for merry England! The castle is won!” These sounds he rendered yet more fearful by banging against each other two or three pieces of rusty armor which lay scattered around the hall.
The guards at once ran to tell the Templar that foemen had entered the old hall. Meantime the prisoners found no difficulty in making their escape into the court of the castle, which was now the last scene of the contest. Here sat the fierce Templar, mounted on horseback and surrounded by several of the garrison, who had united their strength in order to secure the last chance of safety and retreat which remained to them. The principal, and now the single remaining drawbridge, had been lowered by his orders, butthe passage was beset; for the archers, who had hitherto only annoyed the castle on that side by their missiles, no sooner saw the flames breaking out and the bridge lowered than they thronged to the entrance. On the other hand, a party of the besiegers who had entered by the postern on the opposite side were now issuing into the court-yard and attacking with fury the remnant of the defenders in the rear.
Animated, however, by despair and the example of their gallant leader, the remaining soldiers of the castle fought with the utmost valor; and, being well armed, they succeeded in driving back the assailants.
Crying aloud, “Those who would save themselves, follow me!” Bois-Guilbert pushed across the drawbridge, dispersing the archers who would have stopped them. He was followed by the Saracen slaves and some five or six men-at-arms, who had mounted their horses. The Templar’s retreat was rendered perilous by the number of arrows shot at him and his party; but this did not prevent him from galloping round to the barbican, where he expected to find De Bracy.
“De Bracy!” he shouted, “art thou there?”
“I am here,” answered De Bracy, “but a prisoner.”
“Can I rescue thee?” cried Bois-Guilbert.
“No,” said the other. “I have rendered myself.”
Upon hearing this, the Templar galloped off with his followers, leaving the besiegers in complete possession of the castle.
Fortunately, by this time all the prisoners had been rescued and stood together without the castle, while the yeomen ran through the apartments seeking to save from the devouring flames such valuables as might be found. They were soon driven out by the fiery element. The towering flames surmounted every obstruction and rose to the evening skies one huge and burning beacon, seen far and wide through the adjacent country. Tower after tower crashed down, with blazing roof and rafter.
The victors, assembling in large bands, gazed with wonder not unmixed with fear upon the flames, in which their own ranks and arms glanced dusky red. The voice of Locksley was at length heard, “Shout, yeomen! the den of tyrants is no more! Let each bring his spoil to the tree in Hart-hill Walk, for there we will make just partition among ourselves, together with our worthy allies in this great deed of vengeance.”
Sir Walter Scott.
HELPS TO STUDY
I. Tell what you find out about Cedric and his son, Ivanhoe, or the “Disinherited Knight.” What impression do you get of Cedric’s character? of Athelstane’s? What was the first adventure the travelers had? Who was “the sick friend” the Jews were assisting? What further adventure befell the travelers? How did Gurth show his true character? Who came to the aid of Gurth and Wamba? What did Wamba mean by “whether they be thy children’s coats or no”? What impression do you get of the stranger? Describe the scene in the hermit’s abode. What impression do you get of him? Of the Black Knight?II. Who had made Cedric’s party prisoners? Why? Tell whatCedric said when he discovered who his captors were. What disposition was made of the prisoners? Describe the scene in Isaac’s cell. How was Front-de-Boeuf interrupted?III. What challenge did the knights receive? How did they answer it?IV. Who came in the character of a priest? What plan did he carry out? How? How did Cedric act his part? Describe the scene when the escape was discovered. How was Front-de-Boeuf prevented from doing Wamba harm?V. How did Ivanhoe fall to the care of Rebecca? Where did Rebecca take her station? Describe the scenes she saw. What knight led the assault? How did Rebecca describe him? Can you guess who the Black Knight was? Whom did Ivanhoe think of when he said, “Methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed”?VI. What plan did the Black Knight make? How was it executed? Which of the assailants proved themselves especial heroes? What was De Bracy’s plan? How was its accomplishment prevented? What plan for escape did the Templar have? How did it end? Tell how Ivanhoe, Rowena, Athelstane and Wamba were liberated. Tell what became of the knights. Who do you think Locksley was?All of the party were rescued except Rebecca, who was carried off by Bois-Guilbert and accused of witchcraft. You will have to read the novel,Ivanhoe, to learn of the further adventures of her, Rowena, the Black Knight, and Ivanhoe.
I. Tell what you find out about Cedric and his son, Ivanhoe, or the “Disinherited Knight.” What impression do you get of Cedric’s character? of Athelstane’s? What was the first adventure the travelers had? Who was “the sick friend” the Jews were assisting? What further adventure befell the travelers? How did Gurth show his true character? Who came to the aid of Gurth and Wamba? What did Wamba mean by “whether they be thy children’s coats or no”? What impression do you get of the stranger? Describe the scene in the hermit’s abode. What impression do you get of him? Of the Black Knight?
II. Who had made Cedric’s party prisoners? Why? Tell whatCedric said when he discovered who his captors were. What disposition was made of the prisoners? Describe the scene in Isaac’s cell. How was Front-de-Boeuf interrupted?
III. What challenge did the knights receive? How did they answer it?
IV. Who came in the character of a priest? What plan did he carry out? How? How did Cedric act his part? Describe the scene when the escape was discovered. How was Front-de-Boeuf prevented from doing Wamba harm?
V. How did Ivanhoe fall to the care of Rebecca? Where did Rebecca take her station? Describe the scenes she saw. What knight led the assault? How did Rebecca describe him? Can you guess who the Black Knight was? Whom did Ivanhoe think of when he said, “Methought there was but one man in England that might do such a deed”?
VI. What plan did the Black Knight make? How was it executed? Which of the assailants proved themselves especial heroes? What was De Bracy’s plan? How was its accomplishment prevented? What plan for escape did the Templar have? How did it end? Tell how Ivanhoe, Rowena, Athelstane and Wamba were liberated. Tell what became of the knights. Who do you think Locksley was?
All of the party were rescued except Rebecca, who was carried off by Bois-Guilbert and accused of witchcraft. You will have to read the novel,Ivanhoe, to learn of the further adventures of her, Rowena, the Black Knight, and Ivanhoe.
SUPPLEMENTARY READING
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tideIs a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,And the flung spray and the blownvspume, and the sea-gulls crying.I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whettedknife;And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.John Masefield.
I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tideIs a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,And the flung spray and the blownvspume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whettedknife;And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.John Masefield.
They ran through the streets of the seaport town;They peered from the decks of the ships that lay:The cold sea-fog that comes whitening downWas never as cold or white as they.“Ho, Starbuck, and Pinckney, and Tenterden,Run for your shallops, gather your men,Scatter your boats on the lower bay!”Good cause for fear! In the thick middayThe hulk that lay by the rotting pier,Filled with the children in happy play,Parted its moorings and drifted clear;Drifted clear beyond reach or call,—Thirteen children they were in all,—All adrift in the lower bay!Said a hard-faced skipper, “God help us all!She will not float till the turning tide!”Said his wife, “My darling will hearmycall,Whether in sea or heaven she abide!”And she lifted a quavering voice and high,Wild and strange as a sea-bird’s cry,Till they shuddered and wondered at her side.The fog drove down on each laboring crew,Veiled each from each and the sky and shore;There was not a sound but the breath they drew,And the lap of water and creak of oar.And they felt the breath of the downs fresh blownO’er leagues of clover and cold gray stone,But not from the lips that had gone before.They came no more. But they tell the taleThat, when fogs are thick on the harbor reef,The mackerel-fishers shorten sail;For the signal they know will bring relief,For the voices of children, still at playIn a phantom-hulk that drifts alwayThrough channels whose waters never fail.It is but a foolish shipman’s tale,A theme for a poet’s idle page;But still, when the mists of doubt prevail,And we lie becalmed by the shores of age,We hear from the misty troubled shoreThe voice of the children gone before,Drawing the soul to its anchorage!Bret Harte.
They ran through the streets of the seaport town;They peered from the decks of the ships that lay:The cold sea-fog that comes whitening downWas never as cold or white as they.“Ho, Starbuck, and Pinckney, and Tenterden,Run for your shallops, gather your men,Scatter your boats on the lower bay!”
Good cause for fear! In the thick middayThe hulk that lay by the rotting pier,Filled with the children in happy play,Parted its moorings and drifted clear;Drifted clear beyond reach or call,—Thirteen children they were in all,—All adrift in the lower bay!
Said a hard-faced skipper, “God help us all!She will not float till the turning tide!”Said his wife, “My darling will hearmycall,Whether in sea or heaven she abide!”And she lifted a quavering voice and high,Wild and strange as a sea-bird’s cry,Till they shuddered and wondered at her side.
The fog drove down on each laboring crew,Veiled each from each and the sky and shore;There was not a sound but the breath they drew,And the lap of water and creak of oar.And they felt the breath of the downs fresh blownO’er leagues of clover and cold gray stone,But not from the lips that had gone before.
They came no more. But they tell the taleThat, when fogs are thick on the harbor reef,The mackerel-fishers shorten sail;For the signal they know will bring relief,For the voices of children, still at playIn a phantom-hulk that drifts alwayThrough channels whose waters never fail.
It is but a foolish shipman’s tale,A theme for a poet’s idle page;But still, when the mists of doubt prevail,And we lie becalmed by the shores of age,We hear from the misty troubled shoreThe voice of the children gone before,Drawing the soul to its anchorage!Bret Harte.
HELPS TO STUDY
Read the poem and tell the story found in it. Why was every one so “cold and white”? What was the great danger? What happened to prevent the sailors’ getting to the hulk? What is the tale that is told? What is the thought the poet leaves with us in the last stanza?
Read the poem and tell the story found in it. Why was every one so “cold and white”? What was the great danger? What happened to prevent the sailors’ getting to the hulk? What is the tale that is told? What is the thought the poet leaves with us in the last stanza?
This story is taken fromTwenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, the book that foreshadowed the modern submarine. Monsieur Aronnax, a scientist, with two companions, Ned Land and Conseil, was rescued at sea by a strange craft, theNautilus, owned and commanded by one Captain Nemo, who hated mankind and never went ashore on inhabited land. Monsieur Aronnax remained on the submarine for months in a kind of captivity and met with many wonderful adventures. It should be noted that modern inventions have already outstripped many of the author’s imaginings.
This story is taken fromTwenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, the book that foreshadowed the modern submarine. Monsieur Aronnax, a scientist, with two companions, Ned Land and Conseil, was rescued at sea by a strange craft, theNautilus, owned and commanded by one Captain Nemo, who hated mankind and never went ashore on inhabited land. Monsieur Aronnax remained on the submarine for months in a kind of captivity and met with many wonderful adventures. It should be noted that modern inventions have already outstripped many of the author’s imaginings.
On returning to my room with Ned and Conseil, I found upon my table a note addressed to me. I opened it impatiently. It was written in a bold clear hand, and ran as follows:
“November 16, 1867.
To Professor Aronnax, on board theNautilus:
Captain Nemo invites Professor Aronnax to a hunting party, which will take place to-morrow morning in the forest of the island of Crespo. He hopes that nothing will prevent the professor from being present, and he will with pleasure see him joined by his companions.”
“A hunt!” exclaimed Ned.
“And in the forests of the island of Crespo!” added Conseil.
“Oh, then the gentleman is going onvterra firma?” asked Ned Land.
“That seems to be clearly indicated,” said I, reading the letter once more.
“Well, we must accept,” said Ned. “Once more on dry land, we shall know what to do. Indeed, I shall not be sorry to eat a piece of fresh venison.”
I contented myself with replying, “Let us see where the island of Crespo is.”
I consulted thevplanisphere and in 32° 40´ north latitude, and 157° 50´ westvlongitude, I found a small island recognized in 1801 by Captain Crespo, and marked in the ancient Spanish maps as Rocca de la Platta, or Silver Rock.
I showed this little rock lost in the midst of the North Pacific to my companions.
“If Captain Nemo does sometimes go on dry ground,” said I, “he at least chooses desert islands.”
Ned Land shrugged his shoulders without speaking, and Conseil and he left me. After supper, which was served by the steward, mute and impassive, I went to bed, not without some anxiety.
The next morning, the 7th of November, I felt on awakening that theNautiluswas perfectly still. I dressed quickly and entered the saloon. Captain Nemo was there, waiting for me. He rose, bowed, and asked me if it was convenient for me to accompany him. I simply replied that my companions and myself were ready to follow him.
We entered the room where breakfast was served.
“M. Aronnax,” said the captain, “pray share my breakfast without ceremony; we will chat as we eat. Though I promised you a walk in the forest, I did not undertake to find hotels there; so breakfast as a man should who will most likely not have his dinner till very late.”
I did honor to the repast. It was composed of several kinds of fish, and different sorts of seaweed. Our drink consisted of pure water, to which the captain added some drops of a fermented liquor extracted from a seaweed. Captain Nemo ate at first without saying a word. Then he began:
“Professor, when I proposed to you to hunt in my submarine forest of Crespo, you evidently thought me mad. Sir, you should never judge lightly of any man.”
“But, captain, believe me—”
“Be kind enough to listen, and you will then see whether you have any cause to accuse me of folly and contradiction.”
“I listen.”
“You know as well as I do, professor, that man can live under water, providing he carries with him a sufficient supply of breathable air. In submarine works, the workman, clad in anvimpervious dress, with his head in a metal helmet, receives air from above by means of forcing-pumps andvregulators.”
“That is a diving apparatus,” said I.
“Just so. But under these conditions the man isnot at liberty; he is attached to the pump which sends him air through a rubber tube, and if we were obliged to be thus held to theNautilus, we could not go far.”
“And the means of getting free?” I asked.
“It is to use the Rouquayrol apparatus, invented by two of your own countrymen, which I have brought to perfection for my own use and which will allow you to risk yourself without any organ of the body suffering. It consists of a reservoir of thick iron plates, in which I store the air under a pressure of fiftyvatmospheres. This reservoir is fixed on the back by means of braces, like a soldier’s knapsack. Its upper part forms a box in which the air is kept by means of a bellows, and therefore cannot escape unless at itsvnormal tension. In the Rouquayrol apparatus such as we use, two rubber pipes leave this box and join a sort of tent which holds the nose and mouth; one is to introduce fresh air, the other to let out foul, and the tongues close one or the other pipe according to the wants of thevrespirator. But I, in encountering great pressures at the bottom of the sea, was obliged to shut my head like that of a diver in a ball of copper; and it is into this ball of copper that the two pipes, the inspirator and the expirator, open. Do you see?”
“Perfectly, Captain Nemo. But the air that you carry with you must soon be used; when it contains only fifteen per cent of oxygen it is no longer fit to breathe.”
“Right! But I told you, M. Aronnax, that the pumps of theNautilusallow me to store the air under considerable pressure; and the reservoir of the apparatus can furnish breathable air for nine or ten hours.”
“I have no further objections to make,” I answered. “I will only ask one thing, captain—how can you light your road at the bottom of the sea?”
“With the Ruhmkorff apparatus, M. Aronnax. One is carried on the back, the other is fastened to the waist. It is composed of avbunsen pile, which I do not work with bichromate of potash but with sodium. A wire is introduced which collects the electricity produced, and directs it toward a lantern. In this lantern is a spiral glass which contains a small quantity of carbonic acid gas. When the apparatus is at work, this gas becomes luminous, giving out a white and continuous light. Thus provided, I can breathe and I can see.”
“Captain Nemo, to all my objections you make such crushing answers that I dare no longer doubt. But if I am forced to admit the Rouquayrol and Ruhmkorff apparatus, I must be allowed some reservations with regard to the gun I am to carry.”
“But it is not a gun for powder,” he said.
“Then it is an air-gun?” I asked.
“Doubtless. How would you have me manufacture gunpowder on board, without saltpeter, sulphur, or charcoal?”
“Besides,” I added, “to fire under water in a medium eight hundred and fifty times denser than the air, we must conquer a very considerable resistance.”
“That would be no difficulty. There exist guns which can fire under these conditions. But I repeat, having no powder, I use air under great pressure, which the pumps of theNautilusfurnish abundantly.”
“But this air must be rapidly used?”
“Well, have I not my Rouquayrol reservoir, which can furnish it at need? A tap is all that is required. Besides, M. Aronnax, you must see yourself that during our submarine hunt we can spend but little air.”
“But it seems to me that in this twilight, and in the midst of this fluid, which is very dense compared with the atmosphere, shots could not go far or easily prove fatal.”
“On the contrary,” replied Nemo, “with this gun every blow is mortal; however lightly the animal is touched, it falls dead as if struck by a thunderbolt.”
“Why?”
“Because the balls sent by this gun are not ordinary balls, but little cases of glass, of which I have a large supply. These glass cases are covered with a shell of steel and weighted with a pellet of lead; they are realvLeyden jars, into which electricity is forced to a very high tension. With the slightest shock they are discharged, and the animal, however strong it may be, falls dead.”
Captain Nemo then led me aft; and in passing before Ned and Conseil’s cabin, I called my two companions, who followed immediately. Conseil was delighted at the idea of exploring the sea, but Ned declined to go when he learned that the hunt was to be a submarine one. We came to a kind of cell near the machinery-room, in which we were to put on our walking-dress. It was, in fact, the arsenal and wardrobe of theNautilus. A dozen diving-suits hung from the partition, awaiting our use.
At the captain’s call two of the ship’s crew came to help us dress in these heavy and impervious clothes, made of rubber without seam and constructed expressly to resist considerable pressure. One might have taken this diving apparatus for a suit of armor, both supple and resisting. It formed trousers and waistcoat; the trousers were finished off with thick boots, weighted with heavy leaden soles. The texture of the waistcoat was held together by bands of copper, which crossed the chest, protecting it from the great pressure of the water and leaving the lungs free to act. The sleeves ended in gloves, which in no way restrained the movement of the hands. There was a vast difference noticeable between this dress and the old-fashioned diving-suit.
Captain Nemo and one of his companions, Conseil and myself, were soon enveloped in the dresses; there remained nothing more to be done but inclose our headsin the metal boxes. Captain Nemo thrust his head into the helmet, Conseil and I did the same. The upper part of our dress terminated in a copper collar, upon which was screwed the metal helmet. Three holes, protected by thick glass, allowed us to see in all directions by simply turning our heads in the interior of the head-dress. As soon as it was in position, the Rouquayrol apparatus on our backs began to act; and, for my part, I could breathe with ease.
With the Ruhmkorff lamp hanging from my belt, and the gun in my hand, I was ready to set out. But to speak the truth, imprisoned in these heavy garments and glued to the deck by the leaden soles, it was impossible for me to take a step. This state of things, however, was provided for. I felt myself being pushed into a little room next the wardrobe-room. My companions followed, towed along in the same way. I heard a water-tight door, furnished with stopper-plates, close upon us, and we were wrapped in profound darkness.
After some minutes, a loud hissing was heard; I felt the cold mount from my feet to my chest. Evidently from some part of the vessel they had, by means of a tap, given entrance to the water, which was invading us and with which the room was soon filled. A second door cut in the side of theNautilusthen opened. We saw a faint light. In another instant our feet trod the bottom of the sea.
How can I retrace the impression left upon me by that walk under the waters? Words are impotent to relate such wonders. Captain Nemo walked in front, his companion followed some steps behind. Conseil and I remained near each other, as if an exchange of words had been possible through our metallic cases. I no longer felt the weight of my clothing, or of my shoes, of my reservoir of air, or my thick helmet, in the midst of which my head rattled like an almond in its shell.
The light which lit the soil thirty feet below the surface of the ocean astonished me by its power. The solar rays shone through the watery mass easily and dissipated all color, and I clearly distinguished objects at a distance of a hundred and fifty yards. Beyond that the tints darkened into fine gradations ofvultramarine and faded into vague obscurity. We were walking on fine, even sand, not wrinkled as on a flat shore, which retains the impression of the billows. This dazzling carpet, really a reflector, repelled the rays of the sun with wonderful intensity, which accounted for the vibration which penetrated every atom of liquid. Shall I be believed when I say that, at a depth of thirty feet, I could see as well as if I was in broad daylight?
For a quarter of an hour I trod on this sand; the hull of theNautilus, resembling a long shoal, disappeared by degrees; but its lantern would help toguide us back when darkness should overtake us in the waters. Soon forms of objects outlined in the distance became discernible. I recognized magnificent rocks, hung with a tapestry ofvzoophytes of the most beautiful kind.
It was then about ten o’clock in the morning, and the rays of the sun struck the surface of the waves at rather an oblique angle; at the touch of the light, decomposed byvrefraction as through a prism, flowers, rocks, plants, and shells were shaded at the edges by the seven solar colors. It was a marvelous feast for the eyes, this complication of colored tints, a perfectvkaleidoscope of green, yellow, orange, violet, indigo, and blue!
All these wonders I saw in the space of a quarter of a mile, scarcely stopping and following Captain Nemo, who beckoned me on by signs. Soon the nature of the soil changed; to the sandy plain succeeded an extent of slimy mud; we then traveled over a plain of seaweed of wild and luxuriant vegetation. This sward was of close texture and soft to the feet, rivaling the softest carpet woven by the hand of man. While verdure was spread at our feet, it did not abandon our heads. A light network of marine plants grew on the surface of the water.
We had been gone from theNautilusan hour and a half. It was near noon; I knew this by thevperpendicularity of the sun’s rays, which were no longer refracted.The magical colors disappeared by degrees and the shades of emerald and sapphire were effaced. We walked with a regular step, which rang upon the ground with astonishing intensity; indeed the slightest noise was transmitted with a quickness and vividness to which the ear is unaccustomed on earth, water being a better conductor of sound than air in thevratio of four to one. At this period the earth sloped downward; the light took a uniform tint. We were at a depth of a hundred and five yards.
At this depth I could still see the rays of the sun, though feebly; to their intense brilliancy had succeeded a reddish twilight, but we could find our way well enough. It was not necessary to resort to the Ruhmkorff apparatus as yet. At this moment Captain Nemo stopped and waited till I joined him, pointing then to an obscure mass which loomed in the shadow at a short distance.
“It is the forest of the island of Crespo,” thought I, and I was not mistaken.
This under-sea forest was composed of large tree-plants; and the moment we penetrated under its vastvarcades I was struck by the singular position of their branches: not an herb which carpeted the ground, not a branch which clothed the trees was either broken or bent, nor did they extend in avhorizontal direction; all stretched up toward the surface of the sea. Not a filament, not a ribbon, however thin, but kept as straightas a rod of iron. They were motionless, yet when bent to one side by the hand they directly resumed their former position. Truly it was a region of perpendicularity.
I soon accustomed myself to this fantastic position, as well as to the comparative darkness which surrounded us. The sights were very wonderful. Under numerous shrubs as large as trees on land were massed bushes of living flowers—animals rather than plants—of various colors and glowing softly in the obscurity of the ocean depth. Fish flies flew from branch to branch like a swarm of humming-birds, while swarms of marine creatures rose at our feet like a flight of snipes.
In about an hour Captain Nemo gave the signal to halt. I, for my part, was not sorry, and we stretched ourselves under an arbor of plants, the long thin blades of which stood up like arrows. I felt an irresistible desire to sleep, an experience which happens to all divers. My eyes soon closed behind the thick glasses and I fell into a heavy slumber. Captain Nemo and his companion, stretched in the clear crystal, set me the example.
How long I remained buried in this drowsiness I cannot judge; but when I woke, the sun seemed sinking toward the horizon. Captain Nemo had already risen, and I was beginning to stretch my limbs when an unexpected sight brought me briskly to my feet.
A few steps off, a monster sea-spider, about forty inches high, was watching me with squinting eyes, ready to spring on me. Though my diver’s dress was thick enough to defend me from the bite of this animal, I could not help shuddering with horror. Conseil and the sailor of theNautilusawoke at this moment. Captain Nemo pointed out the hideous creature, which a blow from the butt end of a gun knocked over; I saw the claws of the monster writhe in horrible convulsions. This incident reminded me that other animals more to be feared might haunt these obscure depths, against whose attacks my diving-clothes would not protect me.
Indeed, I thought that this halt would mark the end of our walk; but I was mistaken, for instead of returning to theNautilus, we continued our bold excursion. The ground was still on the incline; its declivity seemed to be getting greater and to be leading us to lower depths. It must have been about three o’clock when we reached a narrow valley between high walls; thanks to the perfection of our apparatus, we were far below the depth to which divers ever penetrate.
At our great depth the darkness thickened; ten paces away not an object was visible. I was groping my way when I suddenly saw a brilliant white light flash out ahead; Captain Nemo had turned on his electric torch. The rest of us soon followed his example, and the sea, lit by our four lanterns, was illuminated for a circle of forty yards.
Captain Nemo still plunged onward into the dark reaches of the forest, whose trees were getting scarcer at every step. At last, after about four hours, this marvelous excursion came to an end. A wall of superb rocks rose before us, a heap of gigantic blocks, an enormous granite shore. It was the prop of the island of Crespo. It was the earth!
The return now began. Captain Nemo resumed his place at the head of his little band and directed the course without hesitation. I thought we were not following the road we had come, on our return to theNautilus. The new way was very steep and consequently very painful; we approached the surface of the sea rapidly, but this ascent was not so sudden as to cause a too rapid relief from the pressure of the water, which would have been dangerous. Very soon light reappeared and grew, and as the sun was low on the horizon, the refraction edged all objects with avspectral ring. At ten yards deep, we walked amid a shoal of little fishes, more numerous than the birds of the air; but novaquatic game worthy of a shot had as yet met our gaze. Suddenly I saw the captain put his gun to his shoulder and follow a moving object into the shrubs. He fired; I heard a slight hissing and the creature fell stunned at some distance from us.
It was a magnificent sea-otter, five feet long and very valuable. Its skin, chestnut-brown above and silvery underneath, would have made one of thosebeautiful furs so sought after in the Russian and Chinese markets. I admired the curious animal, with its rounded head ornamented with short ears, its round eyes, and white whiskers like those of a cat, and its webbed feet and nails and tufted tail. This precious beast, hunted and tracked by fishermen, has now become very rare and has sought refuge in the northern parts of the Pacific.
Captain Nemo’s companion threw the sea-otter over his shoulder, and we continued our journey. For an hour a plain of sand lay stretched before us, which sometimes rose to within two yards of the surface of the water. I then saw our image clearly reflected, drawn inversely, and above us appeared an identical group reflecting our movements: in a word, the image was like us in every point, except that the figures walked with their heads downward and their feet in the air.
For two hours we followed these sandy plains, then fields ofvalgae very disagreeable to cross. Candidly, I felt that I could do no more when I saw a glimmer of light, which for a half-mile broke the darkness of the waters. It was the lantern of theNautilus. Before twenty minutes were over we should be on board, and I should be able to breathe with ease, for it seemed that my reservoir supplied air very deficient in oxygen. But I did not reckon on an accidental meeting which delayed our arrival for some time.
I had remained some steps behind, when presently I saw Captain Nemo come hurriedly toward me. With his strong hand he bent me to the ground, while his companion did the same to Conseil. At first I knew not what to think of this sudden attack, but I was soon reassured by seeing the captain lie down beside me and remain immovable.
I was stretched on the ground, just under shelter of a bush of algae, when, raising my head, I saw some enormous mass, casting phosphorescent gleams, pass blusteringly by. My blood froze in my veins as I recognized two formidable sharks. They were man-eaters, terrible creatures with enormous tails and a dull glassy stare—monstrous brutes which could crush a whole man in their iron jaws! I noticed their silver undersides and their huge mouths bristling with teeth, from a very unscientific point of view and more as a possible victim than as a naturalist.
Happily thevvoracious creatures do not see well. They passed without noticing us, brushing us with their brownish fins, and we escaped by a miracle from a danger certainly greater than that of meeting a tiger full-face in a forest. Half an hour later, guided by the electric light, we reached theNautilus. The outside door had been left open, and Captain Nemo closed it as soon as we entered the first cell. He then pressed a knob. I heard the pumps working in the midst of the vessel. I felt the water sinking from around me,and in a few minutes the cell was entirely empty. The inside door then opened, and we entered the vestry.
Our diving-dress was taken off, not without some trouble; and fairly worn out from want of food and sleep, I returned to my room in great wonder at this surprising excursion at the bottom of the sea.
Jules Verne.
HELPS TO STUDY