The Celtic Maiden: A Story of Ancient Britain

THE
CELTIC
MAIDEN. A
STORY
OF
ANCIENT
BRITAIN. BY
PROFESSOR
WILLARD DONE. CHAPTER I. The seven hills of Rome lay under the splendor of the noon- R^ay sun; glinting and glistening on dome and tower, the shimmer- ing light brought every object into clear perspective. Pillars .and porticoes, statues and fountains, tombs and obelisks, temples •and palaces lay under the brightening spell of waves of light and iieat. The sluggish Tiber flowing to the south and west, the .groups of men and women hurrying to and fro, the herds of cat- tle driven to the sacrificial shambles, even the birds that flew in ■quarries over the house-tops, partook of the brightening, glisten- ing glory of the sunlight. In the street lay alternate patches of light and shade, changing in kaleidoscopic variety of form, as the ■crowds moved hither and thither, in streams or scattered groups. "The light of the streets, the light on the buildings, the light on Ihe glimmering water, the light on the human faces, seemed the ■^element of vivacity and vigor which animated the scene, relieving at©f allsombreness. The hour of the midday siesta was approaching. Workmen ;and fashionable loungers — men of labor and men of leisure — isought with equal eagerness the grateful but enervating rest. Laughing and chatting gaily, as if life had neither sorrow nor re- sponsibility, two young patricians walked arm in arm toward a fashionable lounging-place, where others like themselves were al- ready gathering to
sip costly wine and eat rare fruits.
Here,

THE CELTIC MAIDEN. 169 apart from the common crowd which assembled in plebeian places, they could drowse or chat at leisure under the dreamy influence of lute or lyre. "What games today, my Claudius?" said one, involuntarily drawing his toga more closely about him, to escape contact with a passing laborer. '*A combat between Valerius and Plotinus — a fight to the death," answered the other carelessly. "I have ten sesterce on Valerius.
Pray Jupiter he be not slain." "Fervent prayers!" laughed Decius, "but better addressed to Mercury than to Jupiter. The god of trade, my Claudius, were best appealed to." "The blood and brawn of slaves are fit commodities of trade," replied Claudius, with an answering laugh. "They should all be dedicated to Mercury, for they are the source of wealth of such as you and I." "What of the beasts that help the slaves entertain us?" "Of equal soul and equal sense," Claudius answered flippantly, and the two disappeared within the massive archways. As the afternoon came on, the Roman forum again became populous and animated. Pulsating with life, and crowded by those who a few hours before were dozing beneath the influence of song and wine, it seemed the heart of the city. But apart from the vivacious throng was a secluded portion of the forum. There, in uncertainty and misery, were the slaves, brought from distant provinces for sale in the Roman market. The world-v'ide nature of the Roman conquest was well illustrated in this group. All nationalities were there — the dark African, the swarthy Asiatic, the fair European. Of all grades of appearance and intellect were they, from the lovz-browed, muscular rufiian, to the man of keen intellect and sensitive soul. But to their captors and pur- chasers, their value depended not upon soul or sense, but upon muscular strength or activity. The strong arm, the fleet limb, the v^'ell proportioned body, counted for everything — feeling and soul, for nothing. Standing apart from the rest, and separated from them as much by looks as by distance, was a group that would attract im- mediate attention.
There were tv/o women and one boy, appar-

170 IMPROVEMENT ERA. ently mother, daughter, and son. Eyes of bright azure, hair of gold, and skin of mingled whiteness and ruddiness gave them al- most an ethereal beauty, while their supple, graceful figures were good to look upon. But their faces betrayed intense anxiety. As the mother gazed on her son and daughter, bitter, anxious thoughts surged through her mind. Not in vain had the knowledge come to her of the treatment received by alien slaves from Roman masters. She knew that their lives were regarded as of no more value than the lives of beasts — their flesh fit for the same use, their virtue not to be considered. As the throngs passed through the market, all eyes were in- voluntarily turned in admiration upon the little group. Comments, some philanthropic, some m.ercenary, but in all cases compli- mentary, were passed upon their fair-haired beauty. At length, a Roman approached the group. As he stood gazing in sincere ad- miration, he asked the keeper, "Of what race are these?" ''Celts, from the distant island of Britain," was the answer. "By Jupiter, a beauty of beauties!" exclaimed the handsome young Claudius, gazing with astonished admiration on the girl. He and Decius had come thither out of idle curiosity during a leisurely walk through the forum. The slave maiden tried in vain
to escape the searching look. "Come, Claudius," said Decius. "Are there not enough maidens and matrons of patrician rank to share your favors? Must you lavish them on a senseless chattel — an alien and a slave? Fie, Claudius!
Remember your rank." With an impatient gesture, Claudius turned from him and again directed his gaze upon the girl. Had a basilisk's eyes been upon her, she could not have made more strenuous efforts to avoid them. Trembling, she sought to hide herself behind her mother; while her brother, noting her embarrassment, clenched his fists and glared defiantly at the unwelcome visitor. At length Claudius turned to the keeper, "Her price?" he asked. If he had intended to drive a shrewd bargain, his show of ad- miration had already defeated his purpose. The keeper felt justi- fied in naming an exorbitant sum.
It was promptly paid.
Then

THE CELTIC MAIDEN. 171 the purchaser turned to the girl and made her understand that she was his property, and must go with him. Her terror was pitiable. She threw her arms about her mother and sobbed in agony. She turned appealing eyes on her brother, but his chains rendered him powerless to help her. At last she fell on her knees and pleaded with the keeper for protection. But, accustomed to such appeals, and trained to disregard them, he roughly bade her prepare to fol- low her new owner. Darkness settled down upon the forum^ — and dense darkness of despair on the hearts of mother and brother, as they bewailed the dear one \n\io had been dragged away to a fate, the very un- certainty of which rendered it all the more terrible. CHAPTER n. Five years had passed, and mighty changes had been wrought. The principles of Christianity were being preached in the island of Britain, in their primitive purity and simplicity, and the hearts of some had been touched with the beauty and dignity of the mes- sage. And yet the land as a whole lay in darkness, and the fac- tions still carried on ceaseless warfare. The Picts and Scots and Britains were struggling for supremacy, and the Romans were striving to pacify the land in their usual way — by bringing all fac- tions under the absolute sway of Rome. Yet even in the Roman camp, the ministrations of the Christian missionaries had worked wonders, in the softening of the tone of warfare, and the raising of the standard of morality and humanity. The summer campaign of the Roman army in Britain was ended, and such officers and men as were not needed to garrison the .outposts, had gathered in semi-military winter quarters. Evening had fallen on the town. The mists which had been hover- ing over the landscape during the day, were giving way to the frosty brightness of a moon-lit night. The rules of military discipline were relaxed, and the boister- ous sounds of carousal arose from tents and houses. Occa- sionally the louder din of a quarrel or an encounter of arms was heard, rising into clamor, and then sinking into comparative still- ness. In one of the houses, wine was flowing freely.
Officers

172 IMPROVEMENT ERA. were reclining at a repast, rich in delicacies, and betokening none of the hardhips of foreign war. They were evidently young patricians, whom love of glory and booty had attracted to the conquest of the battle-torn island. In the midst of their festivities, they sang ribald songs, and uttered mirthless witticisms, giving way to the spirit of wild, law- less carousal. Suddenly a quarrel arose, one of those contentions which, arising from nothing, lead to much. "I say it was ten!" shouted one, pointing to the dice before him. "It was only eight," answered the other, in a calm voice. "The wine has muddled your brain, Decius. You will count better when you are sober." Decius sprang to his feet. "I can count," he cried excitedly, "the love affairs of one Claudius, of the imperator's guard; and their number rises far above eight or ten." The taunt had its effect. In his rage, Claudius strode toward Decius, while the other officers, in alarm, stepped between them. "Lose not your discretion, Decius," he said when he had obtained some mastery over himself. "Remember what I am, and how anger changes me." But discretion had been scattered to the winds. "I do re- member what you are," shouted Decius. "You are Claudius, the erstwhile lover of the cast-off Julia; the devoted slave of the rich, unscrupulous Fulvia; the factotum of the patrician Cor- nelia— ." "Hush!" thundered Claudius, vainly attempting to rush at his accuser. Tantalizingly calm, with the advantage he had gained, Decius went on: "The betrayer of the unfortunate Marcia; and" — here his voice expressed the most exquisite scorn and mockery, — "at once the master and the slave of the beautiful British maiden, whom you have trained to your taste, like a pheasant fattened for an epicure's table." "Who assails her name proclaims himself liar and coward!" thundered the thoroughly enraged Claudius; and only the strongest efforts of the peace-makers prevented him from executing sum- mary vengeance on his tantalizing persecutor.
Again the mocking

THE CELTIC MAIDEN. 173 voice arose. "To slander a slave, my dear Claudius, is beyond my power. That which has neither soul nor sense cannot be slan- dered. 'Of equal soul and equal sense with the beasts,' — your own words, my Claudius." "Ye furies!" shouted the maddened man; and by a supreme effort he broke through the line of guards and seized Decius by the throat. "Die, villain and slanderer!" he shouted, bearing his victim to the floor. He would have made short shrift of Decius had not the other officers dragged him away. "Remember," he exclaimed as the discomfited Decius arose, "that you will answer to me for your words alone, and face to face, or I will brand you coward, as well as slanderer." "When, how, and where you wish," answered Decius, "I will an- swer with my life, or yours." And life-long friendship turned to bitter enmity; the two officers were separated by their friends. Within his own tent, Claudius feverishly paced back and forth, his disordered steps, caused half by anger and half by wine, keeping time with his disordered thoughts. And as he walked, he mused: "What a man am I. I resent the slander of a woman's fame, but what have I done to preserve her in purity? Have I kept watch and ward over her, or has she been left to protect her- self against those who still regard slaves as chattels, — commodities for sale and barter — devoid of soul and human feeling? Nay, have I not given her, at least in thought, cause for fear that in- stead of protecting her I would attempt her destruction? And yet, there is an air of purity about her, a subtle sense of the divine, which disarms evil, and makes good, duty. What it is that gives her this power, I know not. Pronounced though it was from my first knowledge of her, it has increased beyond measure of late. Changing not in kind, but in intensity, this subtile power now appears invincible. The gods be praised for it!" he fervently thought.
"From what depth of degradation has it not saved me!" In his hurried walk, he did not notice a visitor enter his tent. It was the imperator. So absorbed was the young man in his varied thoughts that the general had to bring him to a realization of the present, by touching his arm. Instinctively his hand flew to his sword-hilt; then, seeing who confronted him, he blushed and stammered an apology.
Accustomed as the
imperator was to