Part 13

Thereupon, Charlemagne ordered his army to bring up the catapults, and they sent a storm of stones into the castle. They hurled blazing bundles of oil soaked in tow, while the archers and crossbowmen swept the turrets and walls with showers of arrows, and iron-headed bolts. This was to keep off the besiegers from the ramparts, so that they could not interfere with the sappers and miners. These men were far down on the lowest side of the castle, digging below the foundations, so as to undermine the walls and tumble them down. They dug the earth away, with their picks and hammers, and then knocked away several rods of masonry. At first, they supported the walls at intervals with heavy pillars of wood, made of tree trunks, until all was ready. Then, they would set the wooden columns on fire, and the whole side of the castle would fall down.

Then again, Aymon was summoned to surrender, but nothing came of it; for, hardly had the echoes of the trumpet died away, before the duke was seen again at his old game of “sniggle-fritz”; that is, of playing wiggle-waggle, with both hands and his ten fingers. Meanwhile, he said all sorts of saucy things, boasting of how many barrels of salt beef he had in his larder, and bushels of oats in his bins.

Poor old fellow, he did not know that the fires, under the foundations of the walls, were to be kindled that night, which would spill most of his castle and all of his storehouses and stables into the valley, far beneath.

But his oldest son Rinaldo, the long-legged fellow, had also a long neck, like a rope. Stretching it out, with his body leaning far over the wall, he could see what was coming. But his father, the duke, would not yet believe there was any danger.

So Rinaldo got the horse Bayard, with the family saddle cleaned up, and all ready to escape. He vowed to keep up the war, even if his father was taken prisoner.

This was just what happened. Even when the enemy lighted the fires, at sundown, and the smoke rolled up over the ramparts, the old Duke stubbornly pooh-poohed the idea of any real danger.

But about midnight, a terrific noise, like a peal of thunder, was heard. Then one would have thought that the tail board of a cart, as large as a town hall, had been pulled out, and a million bricks were being dumped out. The walls slid down, the towers crashed over, and barns, storehouses, soldiers, horses, and engines of war were tumbled in one heap of rubbish into the valley.

Then Charlemagne’s host rushed in with sword and spear. The Duke Aymon was taken prisoner and sent to Aix-la-Chapelle.

But Rinaldo was ready. Hearing the enemy’s trumpet sound for the charge, he went to the stable, situated on the safe side of the castle, and led out the horse Bayard. Then he called his three brothers to his side, and coolly fed the animal a peck of magic oats, which the enchanter, Maugis, had given him. He was in no hurry, for he knew what was coming, while the three brothers watched in wonder. Rinaldo had in mind a secret path through the woods.

At the first mouthful of oats, Bayard began to lengthen out and enlarge, steadily increasing in size; until, having finished its feed, the faithful brute looked up and nodded. Some say he winked his eye, as if he enjoyed fooling the enemy.

The four brothers then leaped upon Bayard’s back, and away he flew like the wind, never stopping until the heart of the forest of Ardennes was reached.

There, at Montfort, overlooking the Ourthe River, one of the highest rocky places, they reared a still stronger castle, with a triple line of walls and moats. The keep, or donjon, was perched on a pinnacle. There they lived unmolested several years, keeping up a wild life as outlaws; concerning which all Belgian children have heard. They defied Charlemagne to come and take their stronghold.

They built a special stable, long enough to hold the horse Bayard, when he should lengthen himself out; either for his own amusement, or for the family of brothers, to take a ride. They gave him every day a good feed of oats and hay, and the mountain springs furnished the best of water. They made for him a new saddle, which was eight feet long, so that the four brothers could ride more comfortably, if they had to mount him again in a hurry, to escape, or to go for a long joy ride.

But Charlemagne, resolving to get rid of these troublesome fellows, came into the Ardennes, with a bigger army and many war engines. After a long siege, he captured the castle.

Again the wonderful horse, Bayard, was brought out and its lengthened back having been duly strapped with the saddle, which was as big as a sofa, the four brothers jumped nimbly on its back. Bayard was so swift, that they escaped every one of the war bolts and arrows, which whizzed past them, from the sharpshooters, who were posted up in the trees and among the rocks. In fact, in its fleetness, this wonderful horse beat the wind. The four brothers never ceased their gallop, until they had reached Gascony, in France, in the dominions of King Yon. Here they entered his service, to drive out the Saracens.

But although they served loyally in the army of this monarch, who used a good deal of Gasconade, or boasting about his benevolence, he proved a traitor. He basely delivered up the four brothers to Charlemagne; but in due time they all escaped.

Now this story is not so much about the four men, as about Bayard, the most famous of all horses.

It is enough to say, that, after this time, the four brothers separated, three to seek more adventures in war, and the fourth to follow the pursuits of peace. What became of the three, who were the younger, we are not informed.

About the tall brother, Rinaldo, however, many stories are told, and a thousand streets, hotels, or parks, in France and Italy and Belgium, are named after him. Tired of war, he became a monk and entered the cloister in the city that makes sweet smelling eau de Cologne, or cologne water. He had shown much skill in building forts and castles, but now he resolved to rear a grand cathedral, more splendid than any in the Rhine country. He thus became one of the first architects of that noble house of worship, whose two magnificent spires have been completed, only within the memory of men still living.

Rinaldo evidently had a bad temper, and, this time, instead of a quarrel over a chess board, he got into a row with the masons, and these rough fellows threw him into the river Rhine and let him drown. Yet later the pope made him a saint and a fine monument to his memory, and over his relics, was reared in the city of Dortmund, where the Germans brew much beer and whence, from the mines near by, they dig up much coal.

Of the younger brothers, the last one before he died, gave Bayard a good feed of oats, and then slapping him on the flank let him go free. Bayard trotted off and back to Belgic Land and into the forest of Ardennes. There, happy and free with no work to do, or burdens to carry, Bayard enjoyed the freedom of the wild horse.

But at last, Charlemagne’s men captured the splendid animal, and brought him before the mighty ruler, who thus addressed Bayard:

“You have often in the past brought my plans to naught, but now you do so no more.”

Thereupon Charlemagne gave orders that a great heavy stone, as big as a load of hay, should be tied around his neck. Then Bayard was to be driven off the high rock at Dinant, into the Maas, or Meuse, River; and, as every one might expect, to be drowned.

Now the lofty pinnacle rock at Dinant, called the Roche à Bayard, stands up by the river side. In shape, it is like an old fashioned sugar loaf, or a colossal Lombardy poplar, or a pointed fir tree, turned into stone. Close to it, is the solid bed rock of the hill. Between both, a famous high road runs, so that the two masses form a natural stone portal, or gateway, into the suburbs of the famous and beautiful city of Dinant.

Thousands of people assembled to see the wonderful sight, expecting the funeral and a watery grave of a noble animal that must surely be drowned. Some wept copiously, at the loss of so splendid a creature. Bayard had certainly been loyal to its masters and deserved a better fate.

But, instead of grief and sadness, there was merriment. In place of drowning, a resurrection and a triumph surprised the multitude of gazers. For one moment, the gallant animal was seen, leaping into the air. Then, with a tremendous splash, the horse fell into the Maas River.

In the next moment, however, he had shaken off the load, and leaving the big stone behind him, swam across the river. Emerging from the stream, Bayard shook off the water from his flank. Then, rearing up on his hind legs, he neighed three times, as much as to say “catch me, if you can”; and trotted off into the woods.

No wonder the Belgian children believe that such a horse is immortal, and still lives. He courses, even yet, through the Ardennes forest. He neighs occasionally, but never allows himself to be seen of men, for he does not trust them.

What King Arthur is to the Welsh little folks, the horse Bayard, is to the children in Belgium, for the fairy horse Bayard, never dies.

XXIV

THE BELGIAN BUNNY

Long before there was a church spire in Belgic Land, or a cross had gleamed in the sunset air, there was a lovely fairy, named Eastre. She was so bright and beautiful, that men thought of her as the lady of the upspringing light, at dawn, where her palace was built in the air. So they called her Eastre, or the East, or the Orient, after that part of the sky and the world, from which the sunshine first comes daily, and also, whence, for thousands of years, so many things have come from the dear old mother continent of Asia!

Now, on one of her first daily journeys, in traveling from the Orient, Queen Eastre, who was very fond of the Belgian people, brought with her a special gift for them. It was not gold, or pearls, or flowers, but four members of the rodent, or gnawing family; that is, a pair of rabbits, and a couple of hares. These long eared creatures look very much like each other, but belong to different species. She set them loose in the country and let them run free. They soon multiplied, so that, in a century or so, there were millions of them, in both families.

Wherever one went, he would see Mr. and Mrs. Bunny and their children. Whether it was up in the hills, or the high part of the Walloon country, where the birch and the pine trees grow, and the houses are of stone, or, down in the Flemish low lands, where are the lime and willow trees, and many houses of wood or birch, there were the Bunny families and plenty of them.

Most of these fuzzy creatures were well behaved, and quite mild in their manners. The children liked them and had rabbit warrens, or burrows in the ground, where the tuft-tails lived; or, they kept them in coops, or open boxes, as pets. The little folks were delighted to find them so soft and fluffy. Their long ears served for handles, by which they could be lifted up easily, and carried about. The bunnies did not squeal, or bite, or kick, though they sometimes squirmed and wriggled tremendously. The boys and girls gave their pets queer names, such as Molly Cotton-tail, Mr. Buzz-Fuzz, Monsieur Snowball, or Mynheer Powder Puff, in winter; and, in summer, Bark Nibbler, or Hop Skipper, or Three Lips. This was on the idea, that the upper covering of the mouth consisted of two parts, instead of one.

Nobody ever knew, or could tell, why Mr. Bunny or Mrs. Bunny had a split upper lip; but all noticed that both the little and big bunnies had the same sort of a mouth-covering. This was very plain to be seen; for, except when they were asleep, the pretty creatures were either eating, or chewing something; and so they appeared to be nibbling or gnawing most of the time. Yet this was long before the days of chewing gum, when even human beings and some polite people let their mouths act like those of four-footed folk. In fact, these Belgian bunnies seemed to be just like some of our girls, that buy gum in the shops and then work their jaws, until they are tired and gradually grow very large, like a camel’s or a donkey’s.

But after the Belgians had built churches, and took the fairy queen’s name for a great festival, which occurred, when the flowers were out, and eggs were plenty, it was told why it was; and this was the story:

Ages ago, when the moon was young, there lived a pretty fairy in the Sky Country of Silver Light, with whom Bunny—they called him Prince Bunny then, for he was very handsome—fell in love. He often looked up at the moon, which hung in the sky, like a round mirror. There he imagined he saw his own face. So he came to believe himself as handsome as she was. He wanted so much to get married, that he became crazy over her. Especially, in the month of March, did he get wildly excited, for in those far off early days, the old year ended, and the new one began, in that month. At nearly the same time, the earth began to think of putting on her beautiful new dress of flowers. It was not until long afterward, in western countries, that the almanac was changed, so that New Year’s day came as it does now, in January, and thus the flower time was pushed forward, almost into summer.

Prince Bunny kept on making love to the fairy in the moon, and at last she had to get rid of his importunity, that is, his teasing her, for an answer, by letting him come up into her shining palace.

But no sooner was he there, than she cast a spell upon him, and made him work hard as a servant. She gave him some rushes, that had much grit in them, and acted like a scouring cloth. Then she set him to polishing the moon’s bright face; so, that when she turned it full and round upon the earth, she could flood the whole sky with her radiance. By her light on the earth, men could see to read, even at midnight, and old ladies in Scotland could thread needles at nine o’clock.

After thus brightening up her face, and helping to increase her beauty, Bunny, the prince, thought his mistress would change him back into a human being, and let him marry her.

But lo! Whatever her intention might have been, she fell sick and called one of the famous genii, who was the doctor of the sky world. He felt her pulse, put his hand upon her forehead and made her open her pretty mouth, to show her tongue. Then he decided that nothing could cure her dreadful disorder and make her well again, but the elixir of life. This is compounded chiefly from the bruised leaf of the cassia tree, and the medicine must be given often. In fact, nothing else would do, but that Prince Bunny must go to the planet Venus, and get a young cassia tree, that grew there and transplant it to Moon Land. Then, for a thousand years, as men on earth measure time, the cassia leaves must be pounded in a mortar, with a pestle, and out of the juice the elixir of life must be made.

And, of course, nobody could go and get this wonderful tree, but Prince Bunny. He also must plant it, pick the leaves, and pound away, until the magic liquid flowed. Of course, the Moon Lady said to Bunny, calling him Prince, and putting on her sweetest smile, “You will be glad to do this service, because of your great affection for me. So run along, and be quick.”

Prince Bunny made the journey, and pulled up the tree by the roots. When he returned to the Moon Land, he planted it, plucked the leaves, and began to pound away to make the medicine. From time to time, the elixir was made and the Moon Queen drank it and got well, but Bunny had to keep on. Many millions of mortals on the earth, when they saw how busy and faithful he was at his task, admired his devotion. They noticed, also, that he had changed from being a courting lad to a druggist. Then they said:

“How he must love her!” and many a faithful maiden sighed, hoping she might have so fervent a lover and so faithful a spouse.

But during all this while, to the Fairy Queen, there was no such thing as time; for the moon is never in shadow like the earth, and there is no night in Moon Land. So she hardly noticed his absences, either when on his journey, or at his work, which made him so terribly tired. The fairy’s spell was on him, and he had to keep at his toil, according to the calendar, which men used on the earth.

After a thousand years of pounding in the mortar, and handing over the cassia leaves, to be made into the elixir of life, Prince Bunny felt quite sure that the Moon Queen would now take him for her husband. But she, being now well and hearty, called him to her and said:

“Now that the Belgians have churches, I want you to go down into their country and bear from me a message. You are to present it through the Queen of the East, the fairy, Eastre.”

And this was the word, which the Moon Queen gave to be delivered:

“For days together, you mortals see me die in the sky; but I come again into fullness of life. So shall you die, but live again. This is my message to you. May you be happy as you think of it.”

But Prince Bunny flew into a rage. He was smarting under three grievances. The Moon Queen had kept him so long, working for her; she would not now release him into his former human form; and, she would not marry him, and be his wife. So, in bad temper, this is the way he gave his message to the Belgic folk.

“As I die and live no more, so shall it be with you poor mortals.”

Alas that the people all believed what Bunny said, and they grieved for a long time, but Prince Bunny only laughed and chuckled over the mischief he had made.

When he returned to Moon Land, the Queen asked him what he had said, or done, for she heard the people crying. Then he answered, with impudence, and boasted that he had outwitted human beings, who often treated bunnies badly. He rather thought the Queen might be impressed with his smartness and that now, she would marry him.

But the Lady of the Moon was very angry at him, and lost her self-control. Seeing a hatchet lying near, which Prince Bunny had used to chop off twigs of the cassia tree, she lifted it up and threw it at him. The blade struck Bunny on the upper lip, and divided it forever. Prince Bunny went first to all the doctors, that live in Moon Land, and among the stars, and, finally, to all that then dwelt on the earth. Not one could help him, or close the cleft in his upper lip. And all bunnies became like him.

As for the people in Belgic Land, they soon learned how the bad prince had deceived them. They recovered their faith, and named the day of the glorious Feast of the Resurrection, after the fairy of the radiant dawn and upspringing light, whom their ancestors loved so dearly. Thus they called the festival, that comes at the opening of the flowers. To our time, this, the happiest day of the year, is, in English, “Easter.”

But because Prince Bunny had been so wicked, that was no reason why all hares and rabbits should be punished for his naughtiness.

So the real Bunny, that frisks on four legs, was adopted as the symbol of Easter, along with the eggs, and the hot cakes, which, baked the day before and stamped with the mark of the cross, were served at the Easter breakfast. Of these every child had one, but it was called not bunny, but for short, bun; or “hot cross bun.”

Even this was not all. Not every family could afford hot cross buns, or even Easter eggs. There was one poor peasant, who had been sick many months. Not being able to earn any money, he was very sad, as Easter day came near, for he could buy neither buns nor eggs, for the three little girls, who were his children.

However, being a man of faith, and loving his little folks very dearly, he told them to make a nest, and to pray to the good Father in Heaven, who made both the sun, and the moon, and the earth, and the flowers. So the little maids went to bed early, that night. They were so eager to get up betimes, in the morning, that they did not undress, but got under the covers, with their clothes on. In this way, their mother found them at early dawn and first light, fast asleep, and drenched with perspiration, because the night was unusually warm.

She woke them up, washed their faces, and let them go out to the barn, to see if anything was in the nest, which they had made. Hand in hand, they first skipped, and then they ran, all reaching the door of the barn together. This they pulled open, in a jiffy.

What a sight! There sat a big rabbit on his haunches, wiggling his front paws up and down, as if he was trying to laugh, in order to welcome them and share their joy. Apparently, this bunny was as happy as a rabbit, or hare, could be. There, in the nest, lay three lovely eggs.

Now, many people in Belgium delight to think this fuzzy fellow, in the barn, was no other than Prince Bunny, who had repented of his naughtiness, and asked permission to come down on the earth, for one night; at the time for the first full moon after the spring equinox, on the 21st of March.

But just how he was able to furnish an Easter breakfast is a question no mere man has been able to answer, even to this day.

XXV

THE FAIRIES OF THE KITCHEN