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 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 
 
Folly's Bells 
 
FOLLY'S BELLS 
 
 A German Legend 
 
 By Anne Gardner Hale 
 
 Illustrations by Lillian Hale 
 
 ^ _^ 
 
 • 
 
 .itisffis^i 
 
 The Peter Paul Book Company 
 Buffalo, New York 
 
 MDCCCXCVII 
 
 TWO COPIES RECEIVED 
 
"pS 3 S"! r 
 
 Copyright, 1897 
 
 by 
 
 Anne Gardner Hale 
 
 Printed and bound by The 
 Peter Paul Book Company, 
 in BuEfalo, New York. 
 
TO 
 THE MEMORY OF 
 
 WHO, MAKING THE ANGELS' SONG THE MUSIC OF THEIR LIVES, 
 
 SET FORTH, BY BOTH PRECEPT AND EXAMPLE, 
 
 THE WISDOM, THE BEAUTY, AND 
 
 THE BLESSEDNESS 
 
 OF KINDNESS, BENEVOLENCE, AND SELF-SACRIFICE IN 
 
 ATTRACTIVE CONTRAST TO THE FOLLY AND 
 
 THE DANGER OF COVETOUSNESS 
 
 AND SELF-SEEKING, 
 
 THIS LITTLE BOOK IS REVERENTLY 
 
 AND AFFECTIONATELY 
 
 DEDICATED 
 
Illustrations 
 
 *' Impatient children open wide the door," . 
 
 Facing title-page ^ 
 
 " A gray-haired man, who leant upon an oaken 
 
 staff," page ii ^ 
 
 " Her trembling hand she hastily withdrew," page jj . 
 
 "And when the gale was spent, the sea at 
 
 peace," page ^g ^ 
 
\/^£ ivho mid the CJiristinas cJieer 
 
 Fain zvould linger long 
 Joyous minstrelsy to hear^ 
 Careless jest and song, 
 
 Marvel not, if, folloivs mirth — 
 From its radiance zvronght — 
 
 Down the doleful slopes of earth, 
 Shadozvy afterthought. 
 
 Heartsonie, zvholesome, else, zvere not 
 
 Merry Christmas zvays. 
 And the lesson soon forgot 
 
 Of these happy days. 
 
Prelude 
 
 High o'er the city's din, 
 The old church bell, by touch impetuous rung, 
 Threw on the frosty air a vigorous peal, 
 Which at much hazard set the ancient tower. 
 That throbbed and swayed all tremulous from its force, 
 While to the ear expectant came its tones 
 Sweetest of sounds upon this hallowed eve. 
 Within the sacred walls, the living green 
 Of pungent pine and faithful hemlock lent 
 Symbolic teaching to the chanting choir. 
 Where all the lights ablaze more joyous made 
 The blessed service for this festal hour. 
 Without, the evening star beamed softly forth. 
 As might of old the star o'er Bethlehem's plains; 
 Through conquered clouds the full moon cast her rays 
 Of tenderest glory on the snow-capped roofs. 
 And silvered all the dingy courts and streets. 
 There, hurrying to and fro, went busy throngs 
 Intent on Christmas traffic or its mirth 
 
2 Prelude 
 
 (Gift-laden most, yet giftless want passed too), 
 Jostling each other in good-natured strife 
 For precedence of place or time, with glee 
 Of gladsome smiles and quiet glance that told, 
 More plainly far than words, of joy serene. 
 
 Just on the edge of trade — scarce counted in — 
 A modest mansion stood. Along its front 
 The snow untrodden and unsullied lay. 
 Among the crowd, a pale boy, poorly clad, 
 Espied the snow and ran with eager speed 
 To reach the entrance, natural shyness gone. 
 The parlor windows are alight, yet not 
 For this he comes, nor for the Christmas tree 
 (So dear to childhood's heart) revealed therein, 
 Sparkling with tapers and its tinseled gauds 
 And gifts of gorgeous hues. He heeds them not, 
 Nor yet the graceful figures, young and fair. 
 Swaying and bending gaily in the dance 
 To music's witching spell. No — not to these 
 Gives even a glance; and one, observant, calls 
 From upraised sash to know his quest, his want. 
 
 " Work, work," he utters piteously. " The snow 
 
Prelude 3 
 
 To clear from doorstep and from court. Work — work ! 
 My mother, sister May, and I, no food 
 For two long days have tasted, and to earn 
 Money to buy us bread I'll do my best." 
 
 Impatient children open wide the door 
 And draw reluctantly the boy within ; 
 All proud and eager to display and share 
 With him the toys and lavish dainties spread 
 To make the festival. 
 
 " No, no ! " he cries; 
 With spurning hands and tearful eyes returns 
 The pretty baubles, and the sweetmeats too. 
 '' I want not these. Our precious baby May 
 Moans in her hungry sleep, and mother weeps 
 That she for lack of bread must die. Bread — bread ! 
 If but a crust, I'll take it gratefully, — 
 Yet not as gift. I can work, and I will, 
 To pay for all we want." 
 
 Straightway assured 
 Of this, industriously he plies his task, 
 And soon with smiling face the needed food 
 
4 Prelude 
 
 Takes home ; while mimic Santa Claus, 
 With jingling bells and thud of hoof-beats heard 
 Around the house, comes in and spreads his pack, 
 Dealing to all assembled for the feast, 
 In sweet remembrance of the Gift divine 
 Sent down from heaven on this auspicious eve, 
 Affection's gifts of whatsoever most 
 Appropriate are or ardently desired. 
 
 To one amid that company he gives 
 A slender book, wherein is written small, 
 In the quaint style of ancient days, 
 A wondrous legend still believed for truth. 
 She pores the pages with a greedy eye. 
 And in her memory lingers long the tale. 
 Whose import deep at length she clearly grasps. 
 And yearning then to lend its teachings high 
 To souls congenial, with more ample lines. 
 In words familiar and of modern guise, 
 Here upon these fair leaves 'tis spread to view. 
 
Folly's Bells 
 
Folly's Bells 
 
 I 
 
 When the calm waters of the Zuyder Zee 
 Ebb slowly out to meet the sleeping sea, — 
 
 What time, o'erwearied, fierce Euroclydon, 
 In the far caverns of the icy north, 
 
 Dreaming of contests won. 
 Forgets his goings forth, — 
 The home-bound sailor's gleeful shout is stilled. 
 His heart with horror chilled ; 
 For there, beneath the waves serene, 
 Smit with a ghastly splendor through the green. 
 He sees a city dead — the towers and domes 
 Of ancient Stavoren, once happy homes, — 
 A wan eidolon now, the refluent sea 
 
 In these brief moments of complacent mien 
 From its long dole of darkness setting free — 
 
 Like as from dungeon a dethroned queen. 
 
 7 
 
Folly' s Bells 
 II 
 
 O Stavoren ! fair Stavoren ! 
 Erst among noblest of the marts of trade ; 
 By wealth and pomp so graced ! 
 How humbled ! how abased ! 
 And to this doom betrayed 
 By a weak Friesian dame, 
 Who, blindly arrogant, 
 Mocked at all pain and want, 
 Perversely reckless of the sin and shame. 
 If but her vanity 
 Might hold supremacy. 
 And to her sumptuous courts came embassies, 
 
 A giddy, thriftless throng, 
 Sent from all realms, with fulsome flatteries 
 
 Joining her dowried minstrels in their song, 
 Crying in blatant tones that her alone 
 Empress of splendor all the world should own. 
 Thus sped long, prosperous years. 
 Fearless of adverse skies. 
 With sunny brow, and eyes 
 As yet undimmed by tears. 
 
Folly' s Bells 9 
 
 From her fine windows far and wide looked she — 
 That haughty dame Richberta — many a day 
 
 Watching with pride the white sails, fleet and free, 
 Fluttering outward from Stavoren bay, 
 
 Or the home-coming keel, with treasures vast 
 
 Deep-laden, dip lowly the bending mast. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Ships the staunchest were hers to run 
 
 Swift as a shuttle to and fro 
 Every kingdom under the sun — 
 
 Weaving a web of friendship so. 
 
 And of the bounty that blesses earth — 
 Wealth of the seas or worth of the land, 
 
 Or whatsoever therein had birth. 
 Readily bringing at her command ; 
 
 While timber and granite from Noroway, 
 And iron and copper from Russian mines, 
 
 Higher and broader day by day 
 
 Builded her towers or lengthened her lines. 
 
lo Folly' s Bells 
 
 Then cedar and cinnabar, silver and gold, 
 Velvet and satin and finest wool. 
 
 In plinth and pillar, and fold on fold, 
 Yielded their beauty to her control. 
 
 And hosts of ministrants — deftest — best — 
 Wrought with a tireless brain and hand, 
 
 Or waited, obsequient, every guest. 
 
 And spread her praises throughout the land. 
 
 IV 
 
 With all this pomp elate. 
 
 The porter at Richberta's palace gate 
 Welcomed one merry Christmas morn 
 
 A gray-haired man, who leant 
 
 Upon an oaken staff. Wrinkled and bent 
 
 Was he, — o'erburdened with the many cares 
 
 Which he had gathered unawares 
 
 From the sad hearts to want and sorrow born. 
 That, out of poverty and pain forlorn. 
 Had dropped full heavily 
 Into the bundle of his patient life 
 
">niii^ 
 
 
Folly's Bells 13 
 
 Woes which eye cannot see 
 Nor will the ear attend amid the strife 
 When selfish aims and avarice compete 
 Where wealth and grandeur have their lofty seat. 
 
 V 
 
 Lackeys and menials base cast many a stare, 
 And mutter many a sneer 
 Upon the gray-haired pilgrim drawing near, 
 Whose calm, clear eyes of eager scrutiny 
 Pierce through and through 
 All things within his view, 
 Behold the glitter and the specious glare 
 Of all this lavish splendor silently ; 
 
 Beauty and grace of varied forms and hues 
 Nor dazzle nor confuse 
 His earnest gaze. With footsteps firm he treads 
 Where'er the outer court its show dispreads. 
 
 VI 
 
 The inner court — the gorgeous banquet-hall ! 
 Here the slant sunbeams fall 
 
14 Folly' s Bells 
 
 O'er crowded buffet and on loaded board. 
 All costly wines are poured, 
 And luscious viands in profuse display — 
 Meats, fruits, and comfits — make a grand array 
 In golden vessels radiant as the morn 
 
 That breaks o'er summer seas in majesty. 
 Beakers and goblets that rich gems adorn, 
 
 Salvers and chargers crusted preciously 
 With opulence of jewels; patterned rare — 
 Moorish, or arabesque, — all quaintly fair. 
 Challenge attention — claim, as homage due. 
 Warm admiration — and receive it, too, 
 Save from that pilgrim gray. 
 Who searches o'er and o'er the vast display. 
 And with a saddened visage turns away. 
 
 VII 
 
 High on her dais, in regal state, 
 Lady Richberta surveys the scene ; 
 
 Fawning courtiers may kneel and wait 
 While she studies the old man's mien. 
 
Folly's Bells 15 
 
 Soon, at her mandate, a trumpet brays ; 
 
 He heeds the signal, he stands at her feet, 
 And shimmer of satin and diamonds' blaze 
 
 The tattered serofe of his mantle meet. 
 
 He bows on his staff, but he bends not knee. 
 Though he notes the ire in her scintillant eyes, 
 
 And, as Bragi might answer fierce Ate, 
 To her anxious questioning thus replies : 
 
 "Most gracious lady, having heard the fame 
 Of your great wealth and loveliness, I came. 
 Leaving the old Hercynian woods, whose shade 
 Shelters my hut of clay. 
 And my pale brothers, in their poverty. 
 
 Far, far behind. 
 I crossed. the foaming sea, 
 Of every mortal evil unafraid. 
 If, ha]3ly, I might find 
 Amid your grand array 
 The one best thing all-wise, all-potent Heaven 
 To this bright world hath given. 
 
1 6 Folly's Bells 
 
 ''Vain is my quest. 
 Amid your glittering stores I find it not, 
 
 O lady proud and gay ! 
 Your mirthful life is but a wretched lot ; 
 With that unblest, 
 Empty as dross is all this proud array ; 
 Your wealth, a dewdrop in the summer's sun; 
 Your claim to highest splendor, falsely w^on." 
 
 VIII 
 
 At these plain words 
 Baffled ambition and chagrin intense 
 Their balefires mounted on Richberta's cheek. 
 
 Thrice she essayed to speak, 
 But, held in leash by passion's furious power, 
 Her tongue and lips refuse 
 Their wonted office. Yet her virulence 
 Of gesture swift imbues 
 Her minions with her ire. Their black brows lower, 
 And, drawing ready swords. 
 
Folly s Bells 17 
 
 With angry menacing of fearful fate 
 They speed the old man to the city's gate. 
 
 Then through the scurrile crowd 
 Of pampered flatterers feasting at her board 
 
 Uprose the wassail loud ; 
 Full freely flowed the mead, red wine was poured ; 
 And ribaldry 
 In song and glee 
 Started strange echoes 'neath the tapestries; 
 
 Smote the still evening air, whose tranquil wings, 
 As of a grieved spirit's murmurings. 
 Filled all the starry spaces with its sighs. 
 
 IX 
 
 Ere the next noon, through every house and hut 
 The rumor passed that Heinric Schley versen, 
 The boldest admiral of all her fleet, 
 Obedient to the mandate first promulged 
 At dawn by Korthar, privy counselor 
 And trusted friend of Lady Richberta, 
 Had summoned all his mariners in haste, 
 
1 8 Folly's Bells 
 
 And quay and dock swarmed with a motley crowd 
 That bustled to and fro in eager zeal. 
 
 Where the great ships lay idly moored arose 
 The quick, sharp strokes of hurrying artisans, 
 The heavy thud of sledge and adze, the clank 
 Of chains, the creak of windlass, and the twang 
 Of loosened cordage, with the rustling, shrill 
 And sibilant, of unbrailed canvas. Thus 
 Through labor's mighty diapason rang 
 The grandest anthem earth can raise to heaven. 
 
 Hard hands of toil, bronzed brows, and sinewy 
 arms. 
 Yours was the grandeur, yours the nobleness, 
 That had Atlantean splendor gladly brought 
 Misguided Richberta, were that her wish! 
 
 X 
 
 Heinric Schleyversen stroked his yellow beard, 
 And, with the air of one who holds secure 
 A weighty secret, trod with conscious power 
 His vessel's deck and gave in bugle tones 
 
Folly's Bells 19 
 
 His orders right and left, till all the fleet, 
 Made stanch and burnished as for festival. 
 Passed down the bay one quiet, starry eve 
 When tides propitious bore them safely forth 
 And gracious breezes filled the swelling sails. 
 
 Lady Richberta, in her queenliest robes. 
 Surrounded by her maids, looked from her tower. 
 Cresset and torch alight their fullest beams 
 Flinging athwart the jewels in her hair, 
 Most beauteous beacon of the night she stood. 
 Which the departing fleet beheld in awe, 
 Chivalric likening, with irreverent breath. 
 To some pure saint with heavenly nimbus crowned. 
 
 Thus watched she there till every snowy sail 
 Dipped low beneath the far horizon's rim, 
 Her lords in waiting wondering at her stay. 
 Yet none durst break the silence of the hour 
 Nor ask the purport of the whispered words 
 That stirred her pallid lips as she at length, 
 All tremulous, came down the marble stairs 
 And hastened on to reach the banquet hall. 
 
20 Folly' s Bells 
 
 XI 
 
 Then, with a frenzy wild, she loudly called 
 
 Her minstrel band. 
 
 And gave a stern command — 
 In accents that appalled 
 
 By their sepulchral sound 
 
 The sycophants around — 
 That mirth and merriment should speed apace 
 
 The slowly passing hours, 
 
 And with a ghastly face 
 And air distraught evoked the highest powers 
 
 Of dulcimer and flute, — 
 That might allay the tumult in her soul, 
 
 Her saddest fears confute. 
 Her dark forebodings banish or control. 
 
 XII 
 
 So passed the feverish days — 
 
 Her greed, insatiate. 
 Seeking many, many ways 
 
 To draw within the palace gate 
 
Folly's Bells 21 
 
 All novelties and wonders yet ungained, 
 If, peradventure, thus might be obtained 
 
 The one best thing 
 
 That should true splendor bring. 
 For this with wasting envy now she pined, — 
 The hoary pilgrim's words still fresh in mind. 
 Yet fruitless all her care, and all the skill 
 By which her servitors would fain fulfill 
 Her wildest scheme. 
 
 Months flee — yet all in vain 
 Is effort and appeal to gain 
 The treasure craved so long. 
 And even its search seems but a senseless dream 
 To those who stroll her glittering corridors. 
 With vaunting voice count her increasing stores. 
 And lead the dance and troll the fulsome song. 
 
 XIII 
 
 The years move slowly on. In discontent, 
 Yet haunted by the hope of gaining soon 
 That one best thing. 
 
2 2 Folly's Bells 
 
 Lady Richberta keeps, with strictest care, 
 
 Whene'er the new moon from her silver shell 
 
 Showers softest radiance over Flevum's tide, 
 
 A vigil, vowed in secret that fair night 
 
 When Heinric Schleyversen sailed down the bay ; 
 
 Vigil of penance and petition wild, 
 
 That this her heart's desire may be obtained. 
 
 Through seven long years — oh! weary, waitinj 
 years ! 
 No answer had she to her earnest prayers: 
 Yet through those years she failed not in her vow. 
 But climbed religiously the long, steep stairs 
 Within the watchtower to its highest floor, 
 Just as each new moon flung a parting ray 
 Along the river's breast, and Hesperus 
 With radiant fingers locked the gates of day; 
 And till the hour of midnight, on her knees. 
 Her straining eyes sought painfully the bay, 
 Yearning for signs of the returning fleet. 
 Then, until dawn, in sleepless agony. 
 Perversely blind to other needs, her soul. 
 With tearful voice, in prayer importunate 
 
Folly's Bells 23 
 
 Besieged Heaven's courts for that most precious boon, 
 
 The one best thing, 
 To crown the cup, which, for her craving thirst 
 Of power and splendor, most egregiously. 
 Had base ambition, with consummate art. 
 Filled to the jeweled brim. 
 
 Thus, thus she watched. 
 And prayed, and wept, with superstitious zeal 
 For the completion of her selfish will. 
 Nor heeded how, outside her palace-walls. 
 Famine, disease, and death held carnival. 
 
 XIV 
 
 The wintry blast swept wildly o'er the dunes; 
 The swiftly changing sands held dangers dire, 
 So in the fishers' huts the fare was scant. 
 And strong men, struck with fear, hung up their nets 
 And laid aside the spear. The housewives sat 
 No longer in the sun, pillow on knee ; 
 Bobbins and bones and flaxen thread, which erst 
 Their busy fingers wove to flowery film. 
 
24 Folly' s Bells 
 
 In shining tangles tasseled the damp walls, 
 Where seldom smoke or flickering flame arose, 
 Or savory odors of the steaming food ; 
 While little children, crying in the night, 
 Hungry and freezing, sobbed their young lives out. 
 
 Ah, me ! the darkness of those dismal days ! — 
 The cruel want, the anguish of despair 
 Through pain and pinching cold and death ; — far 
 
 worse 
 Death's pitiless neglect, Avhen death had been 
 A blessed boon to young and old alike! 
 And yet, Richberta, all her halls ablaze 
 With light and warmth, the crimson and the gold 
 Superbly sumptuous, as in overflush 
 Most prodigal of life and all life's needs. 
 Shimmering and throbbing, in a beauty wild 
 With an excessive pleasance, counted hers 
 A hard and bitter lot, demeaned herself 
 Most shrewishly and sharp, an iron hand 
 Clinched firmly o'er her treasures, while her maids 
 And all her ministers besought in vain 
 Some slight compassion for the starving poor. 
 
Folly s Bells 25 
 
 XV 
 
 Winter at last is ended. 
 
 God be praised for the spring ! 
 Still is the furious tempest ; 
 
 Doubt and despair take wing. 
 Tenderly lingers the sunshine 
 
 Where the shadows have lain ; 
 Hope with her smile illumines 
 
 The labors of life again. 
 
 Out on the sparkling billows 
 
 The fisherman toils all day, 
 Homeward at eve returning 
 
 To wife and children gay. 
 Cold and pain forgotten, 
 
 Though meager and mean their store, 
 Thankfulness sweetens all things ; 
 
 Plenty is theirs once more. 
 
 Yet to the springtime greetings 
 
 Lady Richberta replies 
 With a gloomy, querulous accent, 
 
 And frowns at the brightening skies. 
 
26 Folly's Bells 
 
 She is tiring of her vigils, 
 
 And the fair young moon of March 
 She sees, in the gathering twilight, 
 
 Lighting the stairway arch. 
 
 '' Of what avail ? " she crieth. 
 
 Yet dares not break her vow. 
 Slowly ascends the turret, 
 
 And on her knees bends low; 
 And watch and prayer and penance 
 
 Are offered listlessly; 
 When, lo! the boon is granted — 
 
 Whitens the purple sea ! 
 
 XVI 
 
 Sunrise shines on the full sails, gleaming 
 White as the wings of an angel band; 
 
 Wondering whether awake or dreaming, 
 Lady Richberta waves her hand. 
 
 All its banners the whole fleet, proudly. 
 Swift as a lightning's flash, fling wide ; 
 
 Trumpet and drum to her signal loudly 
 Answer across the swelling tide. 
 
Folly' s Bells 27 
 
 Slowly (how slow to her who waits them !) 
 The heavily laden ships draw near. 
 
 Is it some evil that thus belates them ? 
 Pales Richberta in mortal fear. 
 
 Scarcely the gunwale clears the water; 
 
 Grass grows green on the quarter-deck. 
 What is this priceless gift they have brought her, 
 
 Holding such mighty force in check? 
 
 Who is the old, old man so warily 
 Scanning the tide as the ships sail in? 
 
 Brave young Heinric Schleyversen ! Verily, 
 Perilous voyaging this has been ! 
 
 XVII 
 
 His tall form bowed. 
 
 His visage deeply lined 
 With many furrows prematurely ploughed. 
 His yellow beard and hair 
 Bleached to' a snowy whiteness, standing there 
 
 At his proud vessel's prow, the light west wind 
 
28 Folly s Bells 
 
 Tossing his loose locks, as the helmsman steers 
 Safely to port amid the welcoming cheers 
 Of humble fisher-folk, whom early day 
 Calls to the seines that hold their finny prey. 
 'Tis he — bold Heinric of the eagle eye! 
 And seeming patriarch of a hundred years. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 To pale Richberta's cheek a blush goes leaping — 
 A blush of shame, for conscience is but sleeping — 
 So changed is he. 
 Her vain decree 
 Had not so written in its bond this waste 
 Of manhood's prime. 
 Life's glory so defaced — 
 Degraded — set at nought — 
 Appears as her own crime 
 In this brief moment. Ah ! did she but know — 
 
 Could she, so blind, but see 
 Now is her trial hour ! Or weal or woe 
 
 Hangs on the issue of this passing thought, 
 To her and thousands more the destiny. 
 
Folly's Bells 29 
 
 XIX 
 
 Scarce had the chapel bells for matins rung 
 Ere the bold voyagers, every ship in dock, 
 And all sails furled, were eager to unlade 
 And to deliver up their precious freight. 
 Impatiently they wait the admiral's word. 
 
 A- chosen few at length with him set forth, 
 Stepping in rhythmic cadence to the notes 
 Of drum and bugle, resonant and shrill. 
 With radiant banners waving in the breeze. 
 Along the busiest streets of Stavoren, 
 A train of idlers gathering as they go. 
 While all the bells peal loudly far and near 
 In joyous greeting of the wealth they bring. 
 
 They reach the entrance of the palace courts 
 Just as the seneschal at noon's high hour 
 Flings wide the gates, proclaims in haughty tones 
 That Lady Richberta awaiteth them 
 In the grand audience hall. 
 
 A host of wide-eyed courtiers stand aloof 
 As in they pass where a magnificence 
 Of gold and purple, in gay garniture 
 
30 Folly' s Bells 
 
 And garb, hold for a moment's space their gaze — 
 Those shabby, seaworn men — such contrast sharp 
 It lends to them and to the gift they bear. 
 
 XX 
 
 Transcendent loveliness was in the smile 
 That wreathed Richberta's lips as they advanced. 
 And through her counselor, Korthar the wise, 
 She gave them gladsome greeting and loud thanks 
 For that they had fulfilled her high behest 
 So faithfully, so well — the while she eyed 
 Most curiously the clumsy load, that, now. 
 Each man, obedient to the leader's glance, 
 Laid at the lady's feet. 
 
 Thereat he knelt — 
 Brave Heinric — humbly knelt, and kissed the hem 
 Of her resplendent robe. Then, standing, told 
 In low and modest tones the fearful tale 
 Of their long voyaging. 
 
 She heard him not 
 Save with the outward ear ; her mind intent 
 Upon the treasures lying there and yet 
 
Folly's Bells 31 
 
 Concealed from view within their rusty sacks, 
 
 No eye, no thought has she, for him who speaks 
 
 Of icy rigors in the northern seas. 
 
 Of blasting noontide heat 'neath tropic suns. 
 
 Hunger and pain oft seated at the helm, 
 
 While fierce monsoons and pitiless hurricanes 
 
 Drave the whole fleet on treacherous rocks, or shoals, 
 
 And threatened to engulf in watery graves; 
 
 Or base marauders, and vile, savage men, 
 
 Devoid of mercy, strove e'en unto death 
 
 To wrest the secret of their great emprise; 
 
 And how, undaunted still, they kept their way 
 
 Those many years. Yet all a bootless quest. 
 
 Until they reached, one quiet autumn day 
 
 The long, low beach of a great inland sea, 
 
 Whose tranquil tide drew all the ships along, 
 
 Like a young brood of swans, far up among 
 
 The reeds that fringed with green the little bays. 
 
 Which, denting all the coast, a harbor gave 
 
 To ships and shallops sent from every clime 
 
 That precious thing to gain — the world's best gift — 
 
 Abundantly vouchsafed that happy land. 
 
32 Folly' s Bells 
 
 XXI 
 
 At those last words he fixed his steadfast gaze 
 Full on Richberta's wandering eyes, then paused ; 
 Thus drew her thoughts to him as he resumed : 
 
 ''x\ beauteous land, indeed. 
 Most puissant mistress — beautiful 
 And grand with all that nature yields ! 
 In quiet pastures herds unnumbered feed; 
 The hills are white with flocks of softest wool; 
 
 And, in the harvest fields. 
 Young men and maidens, ruddy as the morn. 
 Singing for glee, bind up the ripened corn. 
 
 "I heard no murmuring of the poor man there 
 
 Of needs left unsupplied, 
 And no complaining in the busy street 
 Of harsh control ; but, far and wide. 
 The peasantry, a hardy, happy race. 
 Of i)lainest food had plenty and to spare; 
 
 And, blithe and sweet. 
 Peace and contentment shone on every face. 
 
Folly s Bells 33 
 
 ''Of flashing gems and gold and velvet stuff, 
 None did I see. Mine eyes of those enough, 
 In all the lands where I had plied my quest, 
 Had seen and known ; 
 And only now, alone, 
 Sought out of all earth's products one — the best; 
 That which of peace and comfort holds the key; 
 
 Of which whoso deals largess keepeth sway 
 Of all rebellious hearts, and setteth free 
 
 The abject from their fears ; and day by day. 
 Dispensing widest trust and love and joy, 
 Brings for the soul its most approved employ. 
 
 "And so, my liege, I bring 
 From that delightsome land, 
 As to me seemed best, 
 Of its abundance. To the water's edge 
 I filled my ships. And now in your fair hand 
 
 It is my lofty meed and privilege 
 To place that wondrous treasure — that best thing." 
 
 He ceased. With skilful fingers quick was loosed 
 The mouth of one full sack from out the heap 
 
34 Folly's Bells 
 
 Laid at the lady's feet, 
 And thence brought forth, from its ungainly keep, 
 A handful of ripe wheat. 
 
 XXII 
 
 It was an awful moment. None dared speak. 
 
 Each might then have heard his neighbor's heart beat 
 
 In the silence deep 
 That filled the place while Heinric reverently 
 Essayed to drop the shining golden grain 
 Into the lady's ready, outstretched palm. 
 
 But with a sudden scorn 
 Her trembling hand she hastily withdrew. 
 
 And every glittering corn 
 Full on the pavement fell — most sharply fell — 
 Striking the marble in the ominous calm 
 With the dull, muffled cadence of a knell. 
 
 As with the turn of tide 
 The storm increases, so her accents grew 
 More and more vehement as her speech found vent 
 In words her courtiers round grew pale to hear — 
 Filling the vulgar crowd with horrent fear. 
 
:ll 
 
Folly's Bells 2>1 
 
 XXIII 
 
 "Thus, minion, thus," she cried, 
 '* Do I cast wide 
 You and your paltry freight, 
 With my supremest hate. 
 This — this you deem, 
 Base miscreant ! the perfectest, the best, 
 Of all the wealth the wide world can bestow ! 
 
 Insolence supreme. 
 To plan such failure for my highest hope ! 
 That from my splendid scheme would dare to wrest 
 
 Your own conceit so low, 
 And with my sovereignty essay to cope ! 
 
 '' Presumptuous fool, take quickly hence 
 Yourself, your crew, and their preposterous load! 
 And, ere the tide has seven times ebbed and flowed, 
 
 Cast seaward from your ships 
 Their hateful cargo. If a single grain 
 
 From careless fingers slips 
 Into a beggar's hand, swift doom — condign — 
 
 The bitterest pain — 
 
38 Folly' s Bells 
 
 Each man shall follow. Strict obedience 
 Be yours. — Go! — And from sight most straightly 
 
 place 
 Of this your luckless errand every trace." 
 
 XXIV 
 
 At these last words Korthar raised high his pike, 
 And prudently waved back the populace, 
 That gazed with gaping mouths upon the group 
 Of gallant sailors, crushed so cruelly. 
 Sadly assuming their despised load. 
 A look of keenest anguish had displaced 
 The mild benignity that graced so well 
 The furrowed face of Heinric Schleyversen. 
 Deeper and darker were the lines now drawn 
 About his noble features. Gray as death 
 The shades contending with the fiery flush 
 Of injured honor on his lofty brow. 
 As, tottering feebly, scarcely could he pay 
 The low obeisance, which, imperiously, 
 Richberta claimed of all to whom she spake ; 
 While many a gibe and fleer fell on his ear. 
 
Folly s Bells 39 
 
 And now, again, in jangling dissonance, 
 The bells with wildest, fiercest tumult fling 
 Richberta's wrath upon the echoing air 
 As from her presence slowly he goes forth. 
 
 XXV 
 
 Wrapped in a purple pall the sun went down. 
 The eve-star hid her rays. The hurrying scud, 
 With wide wings fluttering, hovering, rushing in. 
 Seemed vast battalions of a ghostly host 
 Presaging woe. And when the new moon hung 
 For a brief space above the city's walls. 
 She held the old moon in her slender arms, — 
 Omen most dire ! — at which the fishers' wives 
 Tended in tears the taper at the pane, 
 Hushing the children's glee, to hear the steps 
 Of loved ones hastening home ere bursts the storm. 
 The white-lipped waves that fiercely lapped the shore 
 Glowed crimson soon from glare of lamps alight 
 Through all the harbored fleet. But wildest scream 
 Of startled sea gulls seeking safe retreat. 
 And roar of rampant breakers at the dykes. 
 
4.0 Folly' s Bells 
 
 Were lost amid the outcries of the crews, — 
 In their dismay, with frantic turbulence 
 Working like demons at their desperate task, 
 Sack upon sack and tierce on tierce, well stored, 
 From faultless order wresting, with coarse shouts 
 And oaths, that with the creaking windlass made 
 Terrific discord. 
 
 At the midnight hour 
 Out of the bosom of a sable cloud 
 The north wind burst, with sudden vengeance sped 
 Throughout the city, raved around the dykes. 
 Across the dunes, and harried all the port. 
 The toiling sailors heard it — felt its power 
 Whistling defiant madness 'mong the shrouds, — 
 Mast and spar tearing to splinters, crash on crash. 
 And blow succeeding blow — a hurricane 
 Indeed,— and yet all stolidly wrought on — 
 Though, strained in every part, the stout ships reeled - 
 With deafening uproar striving to outdo 
 The furious storm. 
 
Folly's Bells 41 \ 
 
 XXVI 
 
 Vainly the admiral 
 Issued peremptory orders, bidding cease 
 Their reckless toil. H,e knew the jetsam vast — 
 So many and so many heavy sacks 
 And tierces numberless — had heaped the shoals, 
 And rapidly a bar, immense and strong, 
 Was rearing at the port. E'en now the tide, 
 Obstructed thus, raging and roaring sent 
 A thrill of sharp alarm, chill as stern death. 
 Through every nerve and vein — a prophecy 
 Of swift-impending doom. Such climax near, 
 More willing he Richberta's ire to dare 
 Than nature's occult issues to defy. 
 But all too late his orders. This alone 
 Knew they (the reckless crew), or cared to know — 
 To hide as swiftly as they might beneath 
 The furious waves their hated freight. And thus 
 The livelong night they toiled. When morning broke. 
 
 Rest — a brief space, they took 
 
 Now, whence and what 
 The awful change that in the glimmering light 
 
42 Folly' s Bells 
 
 Meets their swift gaze? 
 
 A flood — a raging flood 
 
 Spreads far and wide 
 
 Heinric Schleyversen treads, 
 From stem to stern, impatiently, the deck 
 Of his uneasy vessel, uttering low 
 A groan of deepest anguish, while from all 
 The w^atching fleet a cry uprises shrill — 
 " The dykes ! the dykes are broken ! ". . . . 
 
 Blank despair, 
 Or rigid horror, sits on every face 
 x\t the wild, widespread ruin 
 
 XXVII 
 
 Springtime rains 
 And melting snows had swelled the river's tide. 
 Flevum, full bosomed, aided by the wind. 
 Had burst triumphantly the barriers strong 
 That in the ancient days the fathers built 
 At an uncounted cost of time and toil — 
 And life (more dear than all), and whose renown 
 The nation's glory reared, for they had held 
 In their control the sources of her w^ealth. 
 
Folly' s Bells 43 
 
 Of this destruction sure, the raging wind, 
 
 Its wrath not yet appeased, veered swiftly south, — 
 
 The shelving sands along the seashore sent 
 
 In rapid eddies, buffeting the waves ; 
 
 And, mingling there in strange companionship 
 
 With wasted cargo of Richberta's fleet — 
 
 By rolling surges held and made secure — 
 
 Piled rapidly a dune so sharp and sheer 
 
 Most vehement current of the inner tide 
 
 Might nevermore descend. 
 
 Yet high and broad 
 Came on the river, with terrific force, 
 In its exultant freedom field and fell 
 Clear sweeping. And yet on and on it came. 
 Its rapid waters ravening as they come 
 Like hungry wolves, around the city's walls 
 Gnashing their white teeth, till each bulwark fell; 
 Then, indiscriminate, of hut or hall 
 Grasping a variant prey, and on its breast 
 Bearing triumphantly to meet the sea. 
 Higher and higher the tumultuous waves. 
 The dune upbuilding, Flevum's trover took, 
 And with a thunderous roar his progress stayed. 
 
44 Folly's Bells 
 
 And so the baffled current sullenly 
 Spread east and west — a restless bay became. 
 And when the day had fully dawned, behold, 
 The fleet lay anchored in a wide expanse 
 Of tossing waters ! 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 Gone were buoy and quay, 
 All alien vessels, and all kindred craft. 
 The great storehouses crammed with costly goods. 
 The mighty derricks, and the fishing gear. 
 With every fisher's hut, and all the homes 
 Of thrifty merchants — gone, or hidden deep 
 Beneath the waves. Save the one topmost tower 
 Of proud Richberta's palace, nought was seen 
 Of stately Stavoren. 
 
 The sailors gazed 
 Aghast. Where were the gladsome crowds that trod 
 But yesterday its busy streets ? the groups 
 Of gossips at the cottage doors? and where 
 The merry children singing songs of spring? 
 The haughty dame, the flatterers of her court. 
 And her imperial grandeur? 
 
Folly's Bells 45 
 
 Each for each 
 Answered 111 silent language, eye to eye, 
 Questions unutterable, as still they gazed 
 In awed amazement and in fearful hope 
 Some trace, though slight, of sentient life to see 
 Amid this dreary waste ; when, lo, appears 
 A white hand beckoning from the turret top ! 
 And whose all knew, and that but yester morn 
 At this same hour it beckoned last. 
 
 Enough ! 
 To crippled mast, or from a broken spar, 
 A score of men in haste their banners raise, 
 Tattered and stained with salt sea-spray. 
 
 Anon 
 A white veil flutters from a window bar, 
 And there the fragile tissue hangs till winds 
 And waves tear it to shreds. 
 
 Ay ! day and night 
 It hung, in mute appeal, as tide on tide 
 Still higher swelled. Was that the truce she fain 
 Would grant the storm -tossed, weary sailors there? 
 Or sign of keen remorse ? or piteous plea 
 For pardon of her tyranny ? 
 
46 ^ Folly's Bells 
 
 God knows, 
 And He alone; and how, as days went on, 
 And hunger, pain, and cold the measure filled 
 Of her imprisonment, she wept and prayed, 
 Longing for some release. In her despair, 
 The one best thing — so scornfully refused — 
 Seeming, indeed, most priceless gift of earth. 
 Begged she not humbly, famishing and faint. 
 That the wild waters bring to her once more, 
 From the fleet's wasted store of precious wheat. 
 That handful once despised ? 
 
 XXIX 
 
 Seven fearful days 
 Of onset and recoil. Continuously 
 The billows surge and leap, their silvery locks 
 Dashing disheveled 'gainst the trembling tower. 
 Then came a calm — an ominous, awful cahii — 
 As if the winds and waves, aweary, paused 
 To gather strength anew; and in the dark 
 And solemn midnight watch the sailors heard — 
 Or fancied so — through the great stillness round, 
 
Folly' s Bells 47 
 
 The De Profundis chanted plaintively, 
 
 As it had been an angel's voice upraised 
 
 From lowest depths of woe. But, ere it ceased, 
 
 Again the storm-wind, its black wings of hail 
 
 And biting sleet shook sharp and shrill above 
 
 The sleeping waters, and the floods arose. 
 
 Raging and booming with terrific force. 
 
 And that low voice was hushed — forever hushed ; 
 
 While suddenly, all strident with distress, 
 
 In gravest bass, antiphonal, the crews 
 
 Uplift a Miserere, for their ships 
 
 No longer own their sway. 
 
 A plunge — a crash — 
 A deafening crash, and every keel save one 
 Asunder parts, and with its gallant crew 
 Into the ruthless jaws of death soon sinks. 
 The angered waves thundering defiance fierce. 
 
 XXX 
 
 And when the gale was spent, the sea at peace, 
 Heinric Schleyversen in that one ship spared — 
 Despoiled of sails and spars, a battered hulk — 
 
48 Folly's Bells 
 
 Beholding the great sohtude around — 
 
 Not e'en the sheerest pinnacle above the tide — 
 
 Called up the remnant of his faithful men ; 
 
 With brows uncovered in the golden morn, 
 
 From humbled hearts, together poured they forth 
 
 Praise and petition to the Power divine 
 
 Who holds the sea within His mighty hand. 
 
 XXXI 
 
 The sun in all his royalty arose, 
 A smile to nature reconciled cast free — 
 Blue sky above and laughing waves beneath, 
 As never storm or sorrow here had birth. 
 And floating, uncontrolled, before the breeze. 
 Went the old hulk with Heinric and his crew — 
 Like Noah in the ark of early time — 
 Far up and on beyond the city's bounds, 
 Beyond where Flevum's dykes were once upreared. 
 Until a haven safe and sure they found. 
 All perils past, a city there they built 
 Wherein dwelt peace and plenty evermore. 
 
Folly's Bells 51 
 
 XXXII 
 
 The years, a never-ending flood, roll on. 
 Long centuries have fled : and still the tide 
 Of Flevum's rapid stream flows to the bay, — 
 The proud blue Zuyder Zee— where yet repose 
 Beneath the changeful waves the palaces 
 Of Lady Richberta and all their pomp, 
 And all the wealth of ancient Stavoren. 
 Along the shore are many humble homes ; 
 Here industry and sweet content abide. 
 And when the wintry snows are drifting high. 
 And safe in harbor all the fishers' boats — 
 For furious gales are wrestling with the waves 
 O'er dune and sandspit — aged crones repeat 
 (The while their nimble fingers fashion well 
 Warm hose and garments for the youngster's wear) 
 To happy children, eager-eyed and keen 
 For tales of wonder and of perils past. 
 This legend of Richberta and her doom. 
 
 But when the full-fed urchins, waxing proud. 
 Coax with cajoling smiles for daintier food. 
 They tell the story of the babes who died 
 
52 Folly's Bells 
 
 In want of e'en a crust, till tears fall fast; 
 And then, with humble thanks, their daily bread — 
 The wholesome, healthful loaf of ripened wheat — 
 Though coarse it be, these wondering little ones 
 Are glad to take, and with their grandame lift 
 Their songs of grateful praise to Him who sends 
 That priceless gift — the world's best thing. 
 
 And never Christmas feasting passes by. 
 If greedy, grasping hands essay to claim 
 Too large a share of dainties or of toys, 
 Without a lesson pointed sharp and clear 
 By brief recall of proud Richberta's sin. 
 
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