Charles Du Bellay

“ It was of a large gray house, moated, a town beside it, yet not far from woods and standing in rough fields, pure Angevin, Tourmélière, the Manor house of Liré, his home, that Du Bellay wrote this, the most dignified and perhaps the last of his sonnets. The sadness which is the permanent, though sometimes the unrecognized, moderator of his race, which had pierced through in his latter misfortunes, and which had tortured him to the cry that has been printed on the preceding page, here reached a final and a most noble form: something much higher than melancholy, and more majestic than regret. ”

“ Du Bellay was second: nevertheless, when he is well known in this country it will be difficult to convince Englishmen of that truth. There is in his mind a facet which exactly corresponds to a facet of our own, and that is a quality so rare in the French classics that it will necessarily attract English readers to him: for, of all people, we nowadays criticise most in letters by the standard of our immediate emotions, and least by what was once called "reason." ”

“ This place, the nest or seed-plot of the new civilisation, still shows its castles--Blois, Amboise, Chambord. Here Leonardo died, Rabelais, Ronsard himself was born. Here the kings of the Change built in their fantastic pride, and founded a France that still endures. It is as truly the soil of the modern thing as are the provinces north of it (the Isle de France, Normandy, Picardy and Champagne) , the soil of the earlier mediaeval flower, and of the Gothic which they preserve unique to our own time.
Now, of this district, Du Bellay was more than a native ”

“ When a man finds in reading such a startling truth, it convinces him that letters have a power of their own and are greater of themselves than the things which inspired them: for when, to show his skill in rendering Latin into French verse, Du Bellay had written this down, he created and fixed for everybody who was to read him from then onwards the permanent picture of a field by the side of a small, full river, with a band of trees far off, and, above, the poplar leaves that are never still. ”

“ But the dénouement of this embassy, and the termination of this romance of the warehouse, have been for ever lost to history; for M. du Bellay, seeing they were almost in sight of Asher, made them land him, and the two honorable citizens doubtless continued their journey and their conversation.
At Asher M. du Bellay found everything just as he expected. The physicians surrounded Wolsey’s bed, watching his slightest movement. The golden tablets of young Anne Boleyn were thrown open upon the coarse woollen bedspread that covered the sick man. Cromwell walked the floor with folded arms. ”

“ The president of a great manufacturing plant, content to be known as a tradesman—an excellent, a Quaker simplicity about that.
Bellair’s particular friend in the establishment was Broadwell of the advertising-desk, a young man of his own age who was improving himself evenings and who aspired to be a publisher. But even closer to his heart was Davy Acton, one of the office-boys, who had been tested out and was not a liar. A sincere sad-faced lad of fifteen, who lived with his mother somewhere away down town. He looked up to Bellair as to a man among men, one who had achieved. ”

“ Du Bellay was Viceroy of Piedmont, a province thrown into the hands of Francis by the fortunes of war. A man of calm and impartial spirit, his liberal principles had been fostered by intimate association with the Protestants of Germany. Only a few months earlier, in 1539, he had, in his capacity of governor, made energetic remonstrances to the Constable de Montmorency touching the wrongs sustained by the Waldenses of the valleys of Piedmont at the hands of a Count de Montmian, the constable's kinsman. ”

“ All right, Davy. I’ve told ’em where to find it on the back of the note.... And now Bellair—you were saying——”
2
Bellair watched for the turn on the part of Broadwell that would reveal the character of his message, for he did not believe the matter of the copy for the printer. The chill was thick between them, yet Bellair managed to say:
“I’m not here for reprisal or trouble-making. It’s rather a novelty to be innocent, yet charged with a thing; certainly one sees a look from the world that could come no other way. I want to see you again—soon. I’ve got a story to tell you. ”

“ Placing his pen behind his ear, he lifted the ledger from under Bellair’s eyes, his lips compressed with the effort. Then he placed it on his own desk to close it tenderly, after which it was taken to its niche in the vault.
The office was silent. Just now Bellair’s eyes turned as if subtly attracted to the place where Eben Wetherbee sat. The young man’s smileless eyes, almost insane with apprehension and sadness, were turned with extraordinary intent upon the place where his father sat. Bellair’s followed. The old man sat plumped in his chair; he gulped, tried to turn. ”

“ The Memoirs of Du Bellay furnish no information in regard to the discussions which are treated of in the close of this letter, and of which the Waldenses of Piedmont were the subject. William du Bellay was governor of Piedmont, which had recently been subjugated by Francis I., and did honour to himself by the generous protection which he extended to the Waldensian Churches. ”

“ Bellair eased his agony by letting him go—the money gripped in his hands, his limbs hastening, eyes darting to the right and left, as he sped through the swinging door.... For several moments, Bellair sat in the sorrow of it—lost in the grimmest of all tragedies—that here we are, a [Pg 257] human family, all designed for lofty and majestic ends, yet having lost the power to articulate to each other. Suddenly Bellair remembered that the old face had looked into his for a swift second, when he was released—shaken, ashen, a murmur of something like “God thank you,” on the trembling lips. ”

“ His face turned toward Fleury, but did not meet the preacher’s eyes.
“The Jade brought a sweet cargo to Ameriga, and Stackhouse does not bank in New York.... Bellair, I want to drink—so the talk will come——”
So absurd was the sound of cargo and banking that Bellair thought his mind had wandered again, yet he said:
“You are better. You cannot drink each hour. If this is to help you, you must be sane.” ”

“ An emotion so tenuous does not appear in any other part of his work: here alone you find the chastity or weakness which made something in his mind come near to the sadder Du Bellay's: his soul is regardant all the while as he writes: visions rise from her such as never rose from Cassandra ”

“ But now Bellièvre advised his employers to espouse the cause of the Scots with a very definite political aim. He considered that the old alliance between France and Scotland ought to be renewed, and the King of England hindered from ever embarking on hostilities against France without the fear arising in his mind that he would have the Scots against him. Bellièvre thought that the negotiations which were being carried on between Charles I and the Scottish Parliament ought to be made use of and directed towards the attainment of this object [145] . ”

“ Fleury whispered.
The ship’s bell struck twice; the cane-chair [Pg 88] creaked; they turned by habit to note the appearance of the Japanese woman with drink. She did not fail. Stackhouse came to with a prolonged snore, a sound unlike a pair of pit-terriers at work.
“A considerable brute,” muttered the preacher.
“He has been much of a man in his way,” said Bellair.
“He talks much—that is weakness.”
Their eyes met. Bellair began to understand how deeply the other’s experience had bitten him.
“He’s afraid of death,” Fleury added.
“I wonder,” Bellair mused. “He talks always of death. ”

“ But he found another horse and left the village, following the Lady Louise to the coast and carrying with him both her moneys and his. A ship brought them to America and they made a home in New Orleans. There they sought and found exiles of their own station, making about them a circle as brilliant as Louis's court. And here Bellaire prospered until after my father was born. Then there came other trouble, a game in Paul Bellaire's own home over which there were hot dispute and pistol shots. ”

“ Fleury said:
“He is having his adventures. He will be a great man. He will have the world at his finger-tips, when he is as old as we are—and then his real work will begin. For when we know enough of the world, we turn to God.”
The note of the preacher in this did not embarrass [Pg 109] Bellair, as it would have done before the Jade’s sinking.
“He will be a great power,” Fleury went on, for the heart of the mother. “These things which for him pass unconsciously, will form him nevertheless. They will do their work within; and when he is grown he will know what to do and say.” ”

“ There was no joyousness and peace in the lower runways, but pain and heavy pressures.... Bellair saw himself moving among those halls again, not a stranger, but with a hand, a smile, a dollar. No one would moan for days without his knowing. [Pg 163] He would find day-work for the little telephone miss, and send orders for hats to the milliner. He would awaken that shadow of all the shadows, the landlady, with kindness and healing. ”

“ It appeared a useless recounting of obvious things. Bellair had thought this out bit by bit several times without finding the least substance [Pg 118] to tie to. Fleury’s addition merely accentuated the bleakness of their position.
“Still,” the preacher added, “if there is nothing for us to do in the way of struggle—the rest is simplified. We may be thoroughly tested, but I feel a strange confidence of our ultimate delivery. I thought of it before we had parted from the Jade. It came to me again in the night. I believe it now. We do not belong to the deep—not all of us.” ”

“ A letter?' The incredulity on the friar's face was ludicrous. 'Why, what manner of letter was that?'
Bellarion, who knew the contents by heart, recited them word for word.
Fra Sulpizio scratched his head in perplexity. 'I have Latin enough for my office; but not for this,' he confessed, and finding Bellarion's searching glance upon him, he softened his voice to add, truly enough: 'We little brothers of Saint Francis are not famed for learning. Learning disturbs humility.'
Bellarion sighed. ”

“ The two ministers were struggling in the direction of their sympathies—one to secure England, the other the Empire—and Francis was only anxious to divide the allies. Du Bellay's standing offers were to pay the arrears, to continue the pension, to pay the expenses of the war, to surrender Ardes, and, more important than all the rest, 'to cause the Scots to be ordered in reason, or to abandon them.' [66] Henry had replied consistently that, although by treaty he might make larger demands, 'yet he had more regard to the common weal and quiet of Christendom than to his own benefit ”

“ Bellair smiled and thought of Fleury’s saying—that those who turn back two thousand years [Pg 206] would find Him.... She had kept a boarding-house, and now the work was too much. Besides, the children of a younger sister back in the home in Essex were calling to her.
“They need me in England,” she repeated. “And here, I have been unable to keep up the little house. I am too old now. My young men were so dear about it, but I was not making them comfortable. One’s heart turns home at the close——” She thought they did not understand ”

“ Mr. Bellair left our employ suddenly and without furnishing customary warning,” the president dictated. “Finding a certain explanation in the vault, instead of a sum slightly over one thousand dollars belonging to this firm, we hastily assumed that his sudden departure was energised by the usual conditions. In fact, such a suspicion was stated to the press by this firm. We have since found Mr. Bellair’s accounts to be correct in every detail, and we furnish this letter to express in part our concern for Mr. Bellair’s character which our hasty conclusion impinged upon. ”

“ En route once more from New York to Bellaire it seemed but a few minutes' run, when finally they drew up to the big rustic house, set back in a rocky nook against the mountain.
"Oh, isn't it lovely!" exclaimed Madaline, "and everything is so clear after smoky Pennsylvania."
"Yes, Bellaire is beautiful," Cleo replied, with a show of pride that her relation should be the benefactor. "I know we'll have a wonderful time. Aunt Audrey is like a girl herself, and she knows what girls enjoy."
"Oh, her husband is the author, isn't he?" Grace remembered. ”

“ Bellair regarded himself as an average man; and after all perhaps this was the most significant thing about him. He was not average to look at—the face of a student and profoundly kind—and yet, he had moved in binding routine for five years that they knew of at Lot & Company’s. ”

“ Picturesqueness and personality were gone from him; romance and the strange culture of the man, for the eyes of Bellair; the old wonder, too, which the seas and the islands of the seas had given him. Bellair could not forget the ankles, the moving of those bare masses up and down, as Stackhouse had clung at the same time to the small boat and the gunwale of the Jade. What a poison to past tales—this present passion and method of self-salvation. [Pg 108] He was less than a beast, in retaining the effigy of a man. ”