Flung uppe her weltering walls again. Then bankes came downe with ruin and rout Then beaten foam flew round about Then all the mighty floods were out. So farre, so fast the eygre drave, The heart had hardly time to beat, Before a shallow seething wave Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet; The feet had hardly time to flee Before it brake against the knee, And all the world was in the sea. Upon the roofe we sate that night, The noise of bells went sweeping by; I marked the lofty beacon light Stream from the church tower, red and high A lurid mark and dread to see; And awsome bells they were to mee, They rang the sailor lads to guide From roofe to roofe who fearless rowed; And I my sonne was at my side, And yet the ruddy beacon glowed; And yet he moaned beneath his breath, "O come in life, or come in death! O lost! my love Elizabeth." And didst thou visit him no more? Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare The waters laid thee at his doore, Ere yet the early dawn was clear. Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling place. That flow strewed wrecks about the grass, To manye more than myne and me; It is stated in a book of Catholic miracles that a band of robbers, having broken into a monastery, proceeded out of bravado to ring a peal of bells, when, through prayers offered up by the holy fathers, a miracle was wrought and the robbers were unable to leave their hold on the ropes. This state of affairs was depicted by Cruikshank as may be seen above. Chapter V BELL LEGENDS THE LEGEND OF THE BELL OF ATRI A certain king of Italy, who bore the name of Giovanni, placed in the public square of a little town built half way up a hillside, a great bell, hung from a roof with projecting eaves, and riding through the town with all his train, his trumpeters made proclamation both loud and long that any person considering himself wronged had only to ring that bell, and day or night the magistrate should give his case immediate attention and pronounce righteous judgment, binding on each and every inhabitant of the town. Years passed on and many wrongs were righted by the ringing of the bell, until with long use the ends of the dangling rope became frayed and worn. A public-spirited individual with intent to mend it, braided some vines among the strands, leaving the ends hanging and swaying in the wind. It happened that there lived in Atri a knight, who in his youth had kept great state, had hounds and horses, hunting and hawking, but, grown old, the miser's passion for hoarding took complete possession of him. He sold his horses and hounds and hawks, rented his gardens and vineyards, and sat alone in his house ruminating how he could save expense. He had kept one favorite horse to ride on feast days, but he grudged the poor beast even his scanty provender, and made up his mind to turn him out to graze by the roadside. The old steed picked up a meager subsistence, but was more than half starved in the stony streets and lanes of the mountain hamlet. One hot noon, when all the people were enjoying their siesta, they were suddenly awakened by peal after peal from the great bell. Surprised that anyone should choose that scorching hour to demand justice they all flocked to the bell square, where, under the shade of the projecting eaves, they beheld the knight's neglected horse making a meal of the hanging vines, and ringing the bell as he ate the leaves and pulled the rope. His head and eyes were raised toward heaven and to the magistrate the dumb creature seemed to say, "Some one hath done me wrong!" The judge's heart was touched, and he sent for the knight and asked him for his defense. Sir Knight treated the whole affair as a joke, but when assured that it was a legal summons which had brought him there, he muttered that he should do as he pleased with his own. |