Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 144 — page 44: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

| r _—_—— — Se ee ee ee eee ee ee es - a aie een ——— =. = . ore = - > _ - 9 eee oes — —_ - —— — se >a a ee need a eo Suom 0 — ~ —— ose a LT TT er ——— - a - 0 moe — oe. = —- ee a — oe ee be - ——— ——— _ = ing acomplaint. The utmost he did was to watch the archdeacon with anxiéty when he ascended the Stair- «ase of the tower; but Claude had of himself cautiously abstained from appearing again in the presence of the Kgyptian. That night then, Quasimodo after taking a glance at his bells, at Mary, at Jacqueline, at Thibault whom he had lately so miserably neglected, went up to the top of the northern tower, and there placing his well- <losed dark lantern on the leads, he began to take a survey of Paris. The night, as we have already said, was very dark. Paris, which, at this period, was scarcely lighted at all, presented to the eye a confused aggregate of black masses, intersected here and there by the whitish curve of the Quasimodo could discern no light out in the dow of a distant building, the vague and soniber outline of which was visible above the roofs in the diréction of the gate of St. Antoine, There, too, was some one who watched. While his eye ranged over this expanse of haze and darkness, an unaccountable feeling of apprehension and uneasiness gained upon him. For several days past he had been Upon his guard. He had observed sus- picious-looking men wling incessantly about the church, and oe mS heir eyes fixed on the young girl's asylum. He imagined that some plot against the eee mon veh = ht 4 on “9 and ae the hatred of people rected against her as it was against himself. So he stood on the watch, upon his tower, revant dans son revoir, as Rabelais ex- preases it, gazing by turns at the cell and atthe city, making sure guard, like a dog with 4 heart full of dis- ¢rust. All at once, while he was scrutinizing the great city with the eye which Nature, by way of compensation, had made so piercing that it almost supplied the deficiency of the other organs, it seemed to him that the outline of the quay of La Vielle Pelleterieo had an extraordin- ary ap ce ; that there was a motion at that point ; that the black line of the parapet, defined upon the white surface of the water, was not straight and ateady like that of the other quays; but that it un- dulated to the eye, like the waves of a river, or like the heads of a moving multitude. This struck him as strange. He redoubled his attention. The movement appeared to be toward the'city, It lasted some time on the quay, thon subsided by degrees, as if that which caused it were entering the interior of the Isle ; it afterwards ceased entirely, and the outline of the quay again became straight and motionless. While Quasimodo was forming all sorts of conjec- tures, the movement seemed to re-appear*‘in the Rue | du Parvis, which ruus into the city, perpendicularly | to the facade of Notre-Dame. At last, notwithstand- ing the intense darkness, he Eeotivee the head of a| column approaching through this street, and the next moment acrowd spread itself over the Place du Par- | vis, where nothing could be distinguished but that it | ‘was a crowd. | This sightwas alarming. It is probable that this | singular procession, which seemed to make a point | of avoidingvobservation, was equally careful to niain- tain profound silence ; yet it could not help making | some noise, were it only by the tramplingoffeet. But even this sound reached not the ear of Quasimodo; and this vast multitude, of which he could scarcely gee anything, and of which be heard absolutely no thing, though all was bustle and motion so near to him, must have had the effect of an army of the dead, mute, impalpable, and shronded in yapor. Itappeared to him as if a mist full of human beings was approach- ing and that what he’saw moving were sliadows of the shades. Then were his apprehensions revived, and the idea of an attempt against the gipsy-glirl again occurred to his mind. He had aconfused foreboding of mischief. At this critical moment he began to consider what course he had best purste, and with more ju ent and decision than might have been expected from a brain so imperfectly craniene. Ought he to wake the 4 tee to assist her to eseape? How? which way? the streets were invested; the church w backed by the river. There wag no boat, no outlet. He had, therefore, but one course—to die on the threshold of Notre-Dame; at any rate to make all the resistance in his power until succor should arrive ; and not to disturb the slumbers of La Esmeralda; the unfortunate creature would be awakened time enough to die. This resolution, once taken, he set about 6x- amining the enemy witb greater composure. The crowd seemed to increase enery moment in the Parvis. He presumed, however, that the noise they made must very slight, because the windows in the streets and the Place remained closed, All at once a‘light appeared, and in an instant seven or eight liglited torches rose above the heads of the multitude, shaking their tufts of flame amid the darkness. Then did Quasimodo distinctly perceive a frightful rabble of men and women in rags, armed with scythes, pikes, pick-axes, and halberts, with their thousand glistening heads. Here and there black forks projected like horns over hideous faces, He had some vague recollection of this mob, and fancied that he had seen these faces some months before, when he was elected Pope of Fools. A man, who held atorch in one hand anda cudgel in the other, got upon a post, and appeared to be haranguing them. At the same time this strange army made some evolutions, ag if certain divisions were taking their respective stations about the church. Quasimodo, picked up his lantern, and went down to the platform between the towers, to obtain a nearer view and to arrange his means of defense. Clopin Trouillefou, on his arrival before the lofty portal of Notre-Dame, had, in fact, ranged his troops in order of battle. Though he expected no resistance, yet he resolved, like a prudent general, to preserve such order as would enable him to face about in case of need against any sudden attack of the watch or of OE ea eee THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. | tho onze vingts. Accordingly he drew up his brigade in such a way that, had you seen it from above, or at a distance, you would have taken it for the Roman trianglé at the battle of Ecnomus, the boar's head of Alexander, or the famous wedge of Gustavus Adolphus. The base of this triangle rested upon the furthest side of the Place, so as to block up the Rue du Parvis; one of its sides faced the Hotel-Dieu, and the other the Rue Saint-Pierre-aux-Beufs. Trouille- fou had placed himself at the apex, with the Duke of Eeypt, our friend Jehau, and the boldest of the Vaga- ads. An enterprise of this kind was by no means uncom- mon in the towns oi the Middle Ages. Police, as we understand the témm, theré was none. Neither was there in populous cities, and in capitals more particu- larly, any sole, central, regulating power. The feudal aystem had constituted these large communities after a strange fashion. A city w4s an assethblage ofa thous- and seignettries, which cut it = into compartments of all forms and all dimensions. Hence a thousand con- tradictory polices, that is to say, no police at all. In Paris, for instance, independently of the one hundred and forty-one seigneuries claiming maporial rights, there twenty-five who claimed the right of administer- ing justice, from the Bishop of Paris, who had five hun- dred streets, down to the prior of Notre-Dame-des- Champs, who had four. The paramount authority of the king was but a recognized by #11 these feu- dal justiciaries. Louis XI, that indefatigable work- man, who so largely commenced the demolition of the edifice, continued by Richelieu and Louis XIV for the interest of royalty, and a) ag A Mirabeau for the benefit of the people—Louis XI had certainly éendeav- ored to break this web of seigneuries spread out over Paris, by violently hurling against it at random two or three ordinances of general police. Thus, in 1465, the inhabitants were ordered assoon as it was dark to place lighted candles in their windows and to shut up their dogs, upon pain of the gallows. The same year they were enjoined to block the streets at night with iron chains, forbidden to carry daggers or offensive wekpons out of doors after dusk ; but, in a short time, all these attempts at municipal legislation fell into neglect. The old structure of feudal jurisdic- tions was left standing. Bailiwicks and seigneuries without number carved out the city among them, crossing, jostling, entangling themselves with an: dove-tailing into, one another. There was an endless confusion of watches, under-wdtches, and counter- watches, in defiance of which robbery, plunder, and sedition, were carried on by main force. Amidst this disorder, then, it wa8 ho uncommon thing for a part of the rabble to make an attack upon a palace, 4 man- sion, a house, in the most populous parts of the city. The neighbors in general abstained from interfering in the affair, unless the pillage extended to their own pope They shut their ears to the firing, closed their shutters, barricaded their doors, left the quarrel to be settled by or without the watch ; and the next mortiing tle talkin Paris would be, “Stephen Bar- bette’s was broken open last night ” or “ the Marechal de Clermont was seized,” etc. Thus not only the royal Hiabitations, the Louvre, the Palace, the Bastile, Les- Tournelles, but the mere seignorial residences, the Pe- tit-Bourbon, the Hotel de Sens, and thé Hotel d’Angou- leme, bad their walls and their battlements, their portcullises and their gates. The churches were pro- tected by their sanctity. Some of them, however, were fortified; but Notre-Dame was not of the num- ber. The Abby of St. Germain-des-Pres was embattled like a baronial castle, and it expended more brass on cannon than on beHs. But to return to Notre-Dame. As soon as the first arrangements were terminated— and we must say for the honor of the Vagabond disci- pline, that Clopin’s orders were executed, in silence, and with admirable precision—the worthy chief of the band mounted upon the parapet of the Parvis, and raised his harsh and husky voice, turning his face to- ward Notre-Dame, and at the same time waving his torch, the flame of which, blown about by the wind, and ever and anon almost drowned in its own smoke, now reddened the facade of the church, and presently left.it buried in darkness. ‘To thee, Louis de Beaumont, Bishop of Paris, coun- selor tothe.court of Parliament. I, Clopin Trouil- lefou, King of Thunes, Grand Coesre, Prince of Slang, Bishop of Fools, give this notice: Our sister, falsely condemned for magic, has taken sanctuary in thy church. Thou owest her safeguard and protection. Now, the court of Parliament wishes tolay hold of her again, and thou consentest thereto: therefore, oh Bishop, are we come to thee. Ifthy church is sacred, our sister ig sacred also; if our sister is not sacred, neither is thy church. We summon thee, then, to surrender the girl to us if thou wouldst .save thy church; or, we will take the girl ourselves and plunder thy church. In testimony whereof I here plant my banner. So God keep thee, Bishop of Paris!’ Unluckily, Quasimodo could not hear these words, which were pronounced with a sort of wild and som- ber majesty. One of the Vagabonds delivered his ban- ner to Clopin, who solemnly planted it between two paving-stones. It was a pitchfork, on the tines of which hung a lump of bleeding carrion. This done, the King of Thunes turned round and sur- veyed hisarmy, 4 savage throng, whose eyes glistened almost as much as their pikes. After a moment’s pause he gaye the word of onset. ‘“ Porward! my lads! To your business, blackguards!" was the cry of Clopin Trouillefou. irty stout men, fellows with brawny limbs and the faces of blacksmiths, sprang from the ranks, bearing _ sledge-hammers, pincers, and crowbarsin.their hands | and on their shoulders. They made for the great door of the church, ascended the steps, and were presently crouching down beneath the arch, at work with their pincers and their levers. A crowd of the Vagabonds vllowed to assist or to look on. The eleven steps of the porch were thronged by them. "Hhe door, however, held firm. “ Devil!’ said one, “it sto and obsti- nate!” “Tis old, and its joints are ” paid an- other, “ Courage, comrades!" replied Clopia. “I'll wager my head against an old shoe that you will have opened the door, taken the girl, and stripped the high altar before there is a beadle awake. Hold, I think the lock is giving way.” Clopin was interrupted at this moment bya tremend- ous crash behind him. He turned round. An enor- mous beam had fallen from the shy; it haderushed a dozen of the Vagabonds on the steps of the church, and rebounded on the pavement with the noise of a cannon, breaking a score-or two of legs among the crowd of pig em Pb with cnies of horror, scampered off in every on. The area of the Parvis was cleared ina twinkling. The blacksmiths, though pro- tected by the depth of the porch, abandoned the door, and Clopin himself fell back to @ respectful distance from thechurch, ‘I have had a narrow escape,” cried Jehan; ‘‘I wasin the wind of it, by Jove! but Peter the Butcher is butchered.”’ It is impossible to describe the fright and consterna- tion which fell with that beam upon the banditti. For some minutes they stood staring up at the sky. more astounded at the piece of timber than they would have been by the arrivalof twenty thousand of the king’s archers. “The devil!’ exclaimed the Duke of Egypt, *‘ this does look like magic!” ‘“It must surely be the moon that has thrown us this log,”” said Andry the Red. “ Why then, methinks thé moon is a good friend to Our *, the Virgin,” observed Francois Chanterprune. “Thousand popes!” cried Clopin, ‘*ye are a parcel of fools!” but still he Wnew not how to account for the fall of the beam, Meanwhile nothing was to be seen on the facade, the top of which = too high for the light of the torches to reach it. The ponderous beam layin tho middle of the Parvis, and nothing was heard save tho groang of the wretches who had ory ay by its shock upon the steps. The first panic over, the King of Thunes at length fancied that he had made a discovery, which appeared plausible to his companions. “‘ Ventre Dieu [" cried he, ‘‘ arethe canons defending themselves ? If so, sack! sack !’’—“Sack! sack!’ responded the whole crew, With a tremendous hurrah; anda furious dis- charge of cross-bows and arquebusses was leveled at the facade of the church. The report of the fire-arms awoke the peaceful in- habitants of the neighbo houses, sun windows might be seen opening, nightcaps popping ont, and hands holding candles, ‘Fire at the windows!” roared out €lopin. The windows were shutin an in- stant, and the poor citizens, who had scarcely had time to cast a hasty and timid glance upon this scene of flashand tumult, returned to perspire with fright by the sides of their spouses, asking themselves whether the witches’ Sabbath was now held in the Parvis, or whether there was anvther attack of the Burgundians, asin 64. The men were apprehensive of robbery, the women of violence, and all tremb) “Sack! sack!” repeated the men of Slang, but they durst not advance. They looked first at the church and then at the beam. The beam did not stir, and tho church retained its calm and lonely air, but something had frozen the courage of the Vayabonds. “To work, then, scoundrels !” cried Trouillefou. “Force the door!” Not a soul moved a finger, “ Pret- ty fellows, these,”’ said Clopin, “ who are frightened out of their wits bya bit of wood!” n,”’ re- joined an old smith, “it is not the bit of wood that frightens us, but the dooris all clamped with iron bars. The pincers are ofho use.” “What want you then to b it open *" inquired Clopin. “We want a batter- ing tram.” ‘ Hereit is then,”’ cried the King of Thunes, stepping up to the formidable beam, and setting his foot uponit; “the canons themselvés have sent you one, Thank you, canons,” he added, making a mock obeisance toward the church. This bravado produced the desired effect. The charm of the beam wag broken; picked up like a feather by two hundred vigorous arms, it was dashed with fury against the great door, which the Vagabonds had in vain attempted to force. Inthe dim light thrown by the few torches tipon the Place, this long beam and its supporters might have been taken for an immense beast with hundreds of legs butting at a giant of stone. At the shock of the beam the hal{-metallic door re- sounded like an immense drum; it yielded not. but the whole cathedral shook, and the innermost cavities of the edifice were heard to groan. At the same in- stant a shower of stones began to rain upon the assail- ants. “This is no joke!” cried Jehan; “are the towers shaking their balustradé upon us?” But the impulse was given; thé King of Thunes was right; it was decidedly the bishop defending his citadel, and the Vagabonds only battered the door with the more fury in spite of the stones whieh were cracking skulls in all directions. It is remarkable that these stones fell one by one, but so closely did they follow each other. that the assailants always felt twoat atime, one at ‘their legs, the other on their heads. There were few of them that did not tell; already a large heap of killed and wounded lay bleeding and palpitating under the feet of their comrades, who, nothing daunted, filled up their ranks as fast as they were thinned. The long beam continued to batter at regular intervals, the door to groan, and the stones to shower down. Tho reader need not be told that this unexpected resistance, which so - gg, the Vaysbonds, proceeded from Quasi- ri NO ya had luckily favored the courageous When he had descended to the platform b towers, his brain was all in confusion. Pod aoe mat utes he ran along the gallery to and fro like a maniac looking down at the compact mass of banditti ready tu burst into the church, and callin tpon saints and an- gels to save the Egyptian. Hehada thought of monnt- ing to the southern belfry and ringing the alarm bell ; GoM (E] ONOKO) (E()