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!' Hi HP' ''='"!','.h'.'h^.UV<-':-^"'i^N', il It:' .*i',!li:.i;.'±s'ily ajaritcU Ittineraita Slibtarg Stljara, New lork LIBRARY OF LEWIS BINGLEY WYNNE A.B.A.M.. COLUMBIAN COLLEGE. '71 .'73 WASHINGTON, D. C. THE GIFT OF MRS. MARY A. WYNNE AND JOHN H. WYNNE CORNELL '98 1922 €mvit Pug0 0f Cmn|0k Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 1 91 947 I Philadelphia . J. B. Lippincott S)' Co. S^ \ Baltimore... Murphy Co. Tales of Old Flanders. €mrA |iug0 0f Crra|0to, :00hn €hxn, C|e Wilh^t Innkeeper. T-HREE TALES. $xom i\t (iriginal J^Umts^ of EENDRIK CONSCIENCE. BALTIMORE: MUEPHY & CO.. 182 BALTIMORE STREET. PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1856. ^wfsa to tfej $mKm ^Jritiflii. The three tales in this volume are so varied in their character that they may be said to present a very fair idea of their author's literary versatility. In "Count Hugo of Craenhove"—independently of the charming romance that invests the stoiy— there are dramatic descriptions of scenes during the plague that desolated Europe in the fourteenth century, which fully equal — if they do not surpass — in vividness, the tragio details of Boccacio and De Foe, and, in fact, realize its dreadful incidents with that palpable distinctness which we have only found in the celebrated " Representation of the Plague" preserved in the Museo d'Ltoria Naturale at Florence. "Wooden Claea" is a picture of a mother's trials under the most a£9icting and embarrassing difficulties that can assail married life. It is touched throughout with the most careful delicacy and minuteness, and - enchains our attention not only by the interest of the tale but by the surprising novelty of the situations and occurrences. Ui IV PRBEACE. "The Village Innkeeper" has been translated ex- pressly for this, edition. It differs from most of M. Consciencs's stories in the broad satiric mirth with which he ridicules the egregious presumption of an ignorant, low- born upstart; while the pathos of its concluding scene displays that finer discernment of the human heart which is always to be found in the works of our author. Baltimore, Oct. 1856. CONTENTS. COUNT HUGO OF CRAENHOVE. PAQI Cbap. I. The Two Shepherds 6 II. The Were-Wolf. 51 m. The Storm 65 IV. The Explanation 72 y. The Beunion 82 THE STORY OF ABULFARAGUS. VI. The ConTersion 94 Vn. The Plague 110 Vni. The Lazar-house 118 IX. TheFUght 135 X. The Catastrophe 150 XI. Conclusion,,... 161 COUNT HUGO OF CRAENHOVE. CHAPTER I. THE TWO SHEPHERDS. About the year 1360, there lay between the villages of Wyneghem and Santhoven, some three leagues from Antwerp, a wild and gloomy forest. The oak-—the wood-king of the North—^lifted there his towering crest toward heaven, while the faith- ful ivy clung around and covered with love-wreaths his rugged trunk, and the odorous sprays of the -honeysuckle adorned his broad foot as with golden sandals. Near to each other, like children of one mother, rose the beech, with its shining leaves, the silver-stemmed birch, and the poplar, with its ever- rustling leaves; while the slender willo;W, like some lovelorn maiden, bent its drooping brancheb over the numerous wateE=pools. The borders of the forest had about them an aspect of enchantment. The bramble threw its purple twigs from stem to stem, and wove around an impenetrable curtain, while at its foot cowslips ; THE TWO SHEPHERDS. and daisies glistened like scattered pearls. Deeper in, however, every thing bore a different character. The ground showed evident tokens of some mighty revolution; here and there stretched barren tracts of sand ; treacherous fens and stag- nant marshes consumed the half-decayed branches of uprooted willows; in place of the bright green honeysuckle, _ the _ dull and yellow moss enveloped the trees, which, spotted over with fungi and excrescences, as witji so many leprous tumors, seemed like an aged and toil-worn com- pany, who stood awaiting their -filial hour. iKTever did a beam of the noontide sun pierce through the tangled branches and penetrate tcSthe damp earth ; a continual dusk,, a glooniy stillness, ever brooded over the spot, save when ifrom time to time a solitary owl uttered its funeral, screech, or a swift fox sped with rustling steps through the fallen leaves, breaking for a moment the deathlike silence only to render it still more awful. Beyond the forest stretched a wide and im- measurable waste, and on the verge of the horizon hung an impenetrable curtain of black pinea. On a spring morning in the year 1366, ere the sunbeams had pierced through the . dense night- mist, there sat two shepherds on the wild heath. One was an old man of more than sixty years, with snow-white hair, and shoulders bent with age : the other was still a youth ; but seventeen years- shone as yet on his ruddy and engaging countenance THE TWO SHEPHERDS. 7 his tl^e eyes glanced softly beneatli Ms broad fore- head, and his hair, blended as it were of silver and gold, floated in graceful^ negligence down his neck. Both were 'clad in coarse garment^, and were em- ployed in stitching their thick woollen stocltihgs, while at s6me distance t)n either side their flocks browsed on the scant grabs' and the. few flowers which the wild heath' afforded. '' '' After a few moments, the elder shepherd, laying aside, his work, drew; from his scrip a book, which he ppenedl E"o sooner did the younger feian per- ceive this than t^e iron' heedles fell from his hand, his.eyesglistened with curiosity, and, drawing near Ms conipanion, he bent himself over the open p^ges,.tod looted with e^g'ier' attention at the characters. Then, with a ' deep sigh, he Said— " Thou canst read, Albrecht ? Hast thou learned from this bookhow'to giiVem tbe winds ? to make good and bad weather? to bewitch' the cattle ? or to remove a charm ? Oh, I wbiild give twenty of the best years of my Mfe, could I but undeMand !" those characters as well as thou The old shepherd smiled at this outburst, and .< ^ replied— ^ "Is' it thus, Bernhart? Dost thou already be- lieve what tie" old wives of Santhoven say? Be- cause I know how to read, folks procMitii' me a magician ; I have, how^ever,' in my whol« life had no other book in my hahd than this one, and what dost thou think it contains?" «'1l6w sKotild I ^'ess? Tell me, I pray." —— 8 THE TWO SHEPHERDS. " Well, then, it is the narrative of the passion of our dear Lord and Saviour. In my youth I dwelt with an old priest ; he it was who wrote the book for me, and with much labor taught me to under- stand the characters. May God be merciful to' the soul of the good man ! At the end of the book he likewise wrote for me certain powerful remedies most useful in diseases of sheep. In the knowledge of these remedies, Bernhart, lies all my magic skill." Bernhart, however, was not content with this. " Oh, let me bjit hold the book in my hand for once !" he begged, impatiently. The old shepherd gave it up willingly. Bernhart threw himself upon the ground, laid the book open before him on his knees, and with almost feverish attention turned over one page after another. There was something wonderful in the demeanor of the young shepherd, and, above all, in that motionless head, from which drooped on either side his fair flowing locks. With a benignant smile old Albrecht gazed down upon him, and at last said " Wouldst thou likewise willingly learn to prac- tise magic, Bernhart ?" The other lifted up his glowing forehead, and answered "Practise magic! 'No, no! but I would willingly give two fingers of my right hand to him who would teach me how to read." "Readily would I teach thee, could we more — ;; THE TWO SHEPHERDS. 9 frequently let our jlocka graze together ; but that, as thou art well aware, happens scarce ten times in the year ; thou wouldst in this way learn to read with some difficulty." The words affected the young shepherd deeply. "With a heavy sigh he gave back the book, resumed hia needles, and, bending down his head, a heavy tear rolled from his eyes. For a long while there was a painful silence between the two shepherds at length Albrecht turned compassionately toward his sorrowing companion, and said " Bernhart, this desire of knowing how to read is a singular malady. I cannot conceive why thou shouldst grieve thus ; it is only by a fortunate chance that I myself understand it. Why shouldst thou not be able to console and calm thyself in this, seeing that, for the most part, knights and noble dames, yeomen and burgesses, know as little about the majtter as thou? And even if thou couldst read,' where dost thou hope to obtain a book, since thou wilt never be rich enough to purchase one?" Bernhart shuddered despairingly at these words his tender limbs seemed almost convulsed, and deep grief showed itself on every feature. "Assuredly, Bernhart," coiitinued old Albrecht, "thy eagerness for knowledge is not natural; it must have a hidden cause. Truly thou art a mar- vellous youth ; no one knows whence thou art ; thou knowest neither father nor mother, and dost speak and act altogether diflferently from us.

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