BLUE-BEARD.

There existed, many centuries ago, a ferocious, cruel old lord, whose treatment of his wives and ogre-like tyranny to all around him, gave origin to the thrilling story of Blue-beard; indeed, the story was so nearly true that this old lord was actually called “Blue-beard” by his neighbors, so blue-black was his long and stubby beard.

He lived in the old days when barons were fierce and despotic, and shut their wives and daughters up in dark dungeons or high castle casements, and thought little more of ordering a score of peasants off to instant execution than of eating their breakfasts.

He was a rich old fellow, and had several castles scattered about the country, whither princes and dukes used to go and visit him, and share in his hunting-parties in the wildwoods.

His castles were situated in the province of Brittany, and his real name was one which is still to be found in these secluded regions,—the Sieur Duval. The lapse of time has caused all his fine castles wholly to disappear, with one exception, and it is that which I am about to describe to you.

Sieur Duval had his favorite residence on the banks of a lovely little river, about two miles from Nantes. Here he was near town, and might ride in on one of his high-tempered chargers whenever he listed, to join the revels of the dukes, or go wife-hunting.

It was at this castle that his cruelties to his unhappy spouses are supposed to have occurred; and it was from Nantes that the brother of his last wife is said to have ridden in hot haste to rescue his wretched sister and make an end of the odious old tyrant.

Taking a row-boat by the high, old bridge which, just on the outskirts of Nantes, spans the river Erdre, you find yourself at first on a broad sheet of water, with quaint, whitewashed stone-houses and huts, their roofs covered with red brick tiles, and occasionally more handsome mansions with lawns and gardens extending to the river-bank. Here you may perhaps observe a row of curious flat-boats with roofs, but open on all sides, lining both banks of the stream. In these are a number of hard-featured, dark-skinned women of all ages, washing clothes. They lean over the boat-sides, and scrub the shirts and handkerchiefs in the water, then withdraw them, lay them smoothly on some flat boards, like a table, and taking a flat hammer pound upon them.

Presently you get past these, if you row vigorously, and come to pretty bends in the river, and find yourself beyond the thickly-settled part, amidst pleasant rural fields, with some wealthy merchant’s mansion raising its towers above the green trees.

After a while you approach a bright little village, all of whose houses form a single street just along the banks of the river. Here you disembark and pass along the village street, across a rickety bridge which spans a little inlet from the stream, and so out into the country, and through paths in the woods thickly grown with brush and wildflowers.

Presently, soon after you have got out of sight of the village, you ascend a gentle hill, and suddenly come upon an old, old house, with its wooden ribs appearing, crossing each other, through the stone walls, and a roof that looks as if about to fall in upon the people who inhabit it.

Just beyond this, deeply imbedded in shrubs, brush, thickly-grown ivies and other vines, and moss, is all that is left of Blue-beard’s castle.

The walls are still there, dividing the apartments. You can imagine the rooms and the tower which arose above the tall trees that here cluster on the river bank. And you may fancy, as you stand among the beautiful ruins, that you are on the very spot where the room used to be which Blue-beard forbade his last wife to enter.

Here is the portal, now crumbled and almost covered with moss and ivy, where the old tyrant came in and out; there the wall where the last of his poor victims sat, looking out and straining her eyes to see her brother coming; beyond, the spot where Blue-beard was struck down, and received his deserts. It seems too beautiful a place for so remorseless an ogre; and as one looks out upon the lovely scenes where the tearful spouses mourned their lot, one cannot help thinking how happy they might have been in such a charming retreat, had they enjoyed it with loving husbands and happy homes.

CHAPTER XVII.
HOMEWARD.

On the Cliffs at Havre.—Stories of French Authors.—Again on the Sea.

ONLY three days more remain to us in France,” said Master Lewis, after spending two days in Nantes. “We will now return to Paris by rail, stopping a few hours in Orleans, and from Paris will go directly to Havre, whence we will take the steamer for home.”

“It seems to me,” said Wyllys Wynn, “that, after what we have seen, I shall like no reading so well as history.”

“It has been my aim,” said Master Lewis, “to take you to those places where the principal great events of the histories of England and France have occurred. I stopped at Carlisle to give you a lesson in the early history of Britain,—the periods of the Druids and the Romans. I took you to Glastonbury to give you a view of the history of the early English Church. I went with you to Aix-la-Chapelle that you might receive an impression of the dominion of Charlemagne. Normandy is the common ground of old English and French history. I was glad to select it for you as the direct object of our visit, although it has formed a small part of our journey. I, like Tommy, have had a secret which I have kept for the Club; it has been to interest you in the places and events which would lead you, on your return, to become more careful readers of the best books. I hope the journey will leave an historic outline in your minds that future reading will fill. Character is as much determined by the books one reads as by the company one keeps. Show me a boy’s selection of books, and I will tell you what he is and what he is likely to become.”

“Master Lewis,” said Wyllys, “says he has aimed to take us to such historic places as would give us, at the end of the journey, a connected picture of English and of French history. Let us try to associate the places we have seen with historic events. As I think of our Scottish and English journey, I connect,—

“Carlisle with the Druids and Romans.

“Glastonbury with Early Christianity and the Boy Kings.

“Normandy with William the Conqueror and his sons.

“Nottingham with Robin Hood and the Norman and Plantagenet Kings.

“Boscobel with King Charles.

“Edinburgh with Mary, the Edwards, and the Douglases.

“Kenilworth with Elizabeth.

“Oxford with Canute and Alfred.

“London with the Tudors, the Commonwealth, the Georges, and Victoria.”

“In our journey on the continent,” said Frank, “I associate,—

“Brussels with Waterloo and Napoleon.

“Aix-la-Chapelle with Charlemagne.

“Ghent and Bruges with the Dukes of Flanders and Burgundy.

“Calais with Mary Tudor and Edward III. of England.

“Rouen with Charles VII. and Joan of Arc.

“Paris with Charles IX., the Bourbons, and Napoleon.

“Nantes with the Huguenots and the Revolution.”

“We have also had views of the homes and haunts of great authors,” said Ernest. “I have made a scrap-book of leaves and flowers from the homes and graves of men of letters, and it includes souvenirs of nearly all the most eminent names in English literature.”

Havre is really a port of Paris, and is one of the most thriving maritime towns of France. Like most port towns it is more businesslike than picturesque. The Class made but two visits here, outside of the hotel. One of these was to the birthplace of Bernardin de St. Pierre in Rue de la Cordesis, and the other to the cliffs on which the great French light-houses are erected at a height of three hundred feet.

MOLIÈRE.

It was in the bright twilight of a late day in August that the Class mounted the cliffs and overlooked the sea, whose waves still reflected the vermilion of the sky. The boys were sober at the thought that this was their last day in Europe, and that they were now to return to the set tasks of the school-room.

THE READING OF “PAUL AND VIRGINIA.”

“These cliffs,” said Master Lewis, “were the favorite haunts of the author of ‘Paul and Virginia.’ He was a mere theorist, a daydreamer; and here he loved to gaze on the bright sea, and plan [!-- original location of 'The reading of Paul and Virginia' --] [!-- blank page --] expeditions of republican colonists to such lands as he paints in his novels. His expeditions ended in the air. But he himself went to Mauritius, where he lived three years. On his return to Paris, while the brightness of tropical scenery still haunted him, he wrote ‘Paul and Virginia.’”

RACINE.

“When Corneille, the great Corneille, as the popular dramatist came to be called, read his masterpiece, Polyeucte, to a party of fashionable literary people in Paris, it was coolly received on account of the fine Christian sentiments it contained. The criticism was that the religion of the stage should be that, not of God, but of the gods. Even a bishop present took this view.

“Bernardin de St. Pierre was as sharply criticised when he first read in public his beautiful romance of ‘Paul and Virginia.’ It was at a party given by Madame Necker. ‘At first,’ says a writer, ‘every one listened in silence; then the company began to whisper, then to yawn. Monsieur de Buffon ordered his carriage, and slipped out of the nearest door. The ladies who listened were ridiculed when tears at last gathered in their eyes.’

RACINE READING TO LOUIS XIV.

“Polyeucte still lives in French literature, and the wits who condemned it are forgotten; ‘Paul and Virginia’ charmed France; fifty imitations of it were published in a single year, and it was rapidly translated into all European tongues. It remains a classic, but the critics in Madame Necker’s parlors are recollected only for their mistake.”

“We must read the works of these French authors on our return,” said Wyllys, “or at least the best selections from them. I shall wish to read ‘Pascal’s Provincial Letters’ and the Letters of Madame de Sévigné, after what you have said of them.”

“You should also read some of the best selections from the works of Boileau, Molière, and Racine. I have only time to allude to them briefly here.

“These authors were friends. They all lived in the time of the Grand Monarch, as Louis XIV. was called. La Fontaine, some of whose fables you have read, belongs to the same period, which is the greatest in French literature.

“Louis XIV. appreciated nearly all the great writers of the time; he seems to have felt that great authors, like great palaces, would add lustre to his reign.”

“I think that we might better change our society on our return into a reading-club,” said Tommy Toby.

“It seems to me your proposal is a very good one,” said Master Lewis. “We may be able to travel again. If we should visit Germany or the Latin lands together another year, a reading-club would be an excellent preparation for the journey.”

“Very much better than a Secret Society,” said Frank. “Suppose you give the Class the secret you devised for our first meetings, Tommy.”

“Oh,” said Tommy, soberly, “that, like most of my other plans, was just nothing, after all.”

Away from busy Havre the next morning, under the French and American flags, moved a little ocean world; and on the decks, looking back to the fading shores of old Normandy, and cherishing delightful memories of their zigzag journeys in historic lands, were the teacher and the lads whose winding ways we have followed.

University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge.

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Transcriber's Note

Minor punctuation errors have been repaired. Hyphenation and use of accents has been made consistent.

Use of quote marks is inconsistent, particularly around poetry and for continuing quotations, but is preserved as printed.

The illustration caption, 'THE BLACK DOUGLAS SURPRISING AN ENEMY' on page [100] was omitted from the List of Illustrations. It has been added in this e-text.

The uncaptioned sketch of thread from the Bayeux Tapestry, on page [164], is not included in the List of Illustrations. This may have been deliberate, as it is supposed to be a sketch by one of the class, and so has not been added by the transcriber.

The List of Illustrations had the image on page [187] as 'OLD HAMPTON COURT', while the caption under the illustration read 'WHITEHALL'. The Transcriber has confirmed that the illustration is a picture of the old Whitehall Palace (see painting The Old Palace of Whitehall, by Hendrik Danckerts for comparison), and has amended the text in the List of Illustrations to match the caption in the text.

Page [166] includes the word 'flustrated'. This may be a typographic error for 'frustrated', or it may be deliberate on the part of the author, perhaps a combination of 'flustered' and 'frustrated'. As there is no way to be sure which is the case, it is preserved as printed.

The following amendments have been made—

Page [vii]—Falise amended to Falaise—"Statue of William the Conqueror at Falaise"

Page [vii]—the word 'At' deleted and the amended to The, to match the caption in the main text—"The Death-bed of Francis II."

Page [57]—Ingraciate amended to Ingratiate—"... one on Ingratiate (in grey she ate); ..."

Page [173]—Wyatt amended to Wyat—"... The Tower.—Sir Henry Wyat and His Cat.—Madame Tussaud’s Wax Works...."

Page [220]—der amended to de—"All the Foresters of Flanders,—mighty Baldwin Bras de Fer, ..."

The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page. Other illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph.

Omitted page numbers were unnumbered illustration or blank pages in the original.