The Cloister and the Hearth | Page 3

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Contributed by Neil McLachlan, [email protected] and Ted Davis,
[email protected]

The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reade

Etext Notes:
1. Greek passages are enclosed in angled brackets, (e.g. , and
have been transliterated according to: alpha A, a beta B, b gamma G, g
delta D, d epsilon E, e zeta Z, z eta Y, y theta Th, th iota I, i kappa K, k
lamda L, l mu M, m nu N, n omicron O, o pi P, p rho R, r sigma S, s tau
T, t phi Ph, ph chi Ch, ch psi Ps, ps xi X, x upsilon U, u omega W, w
2. All diacritics have been removed from this version

3. References for the Author's footnotes are enclosed in square
brackets(e.g. [1]) and collected at the end of the chapter they occur in.
4. There are 100 chapters in the book, each starting with CHAPTER R,
where R is the chapter number expressed as a Roman numeral.

AUTHOR'S PREFACE
A small portion of this tale appeared in Once a Week, July- September,
1859, under the title of "A Good Fight."
After writing it, I took wider views of the subject, and also felt uneasy
at having deviated unnecessarily from the historical outline of a true
story. These two sentiments have cost me more than a year's very hard
labour, which I venture to think has not been wasted. After this plain
statement I trust all who comment on this work will see that to describe
it as a reprint would be unfair to the public and to me. The English
language is copious, and, in any true man's hands, quite able to convey
the truth- namely, that one-fifth of the present work is a reprint, and
four- fifths of it a new composition.
CHARLES READE
CHAPTER I
Not a day passes over the earth, but men and women of no note do
great deeds, speak great words, and suffer noble sorrows. of these
obscure heroes, philosophers, and martyrs, the greater part will never
be known till that hour, when many that are great shall be small, and
the small great; but of others the world's knowledge may be said to
sleep: their lives and characters lie hidden from nations in the annals
that record them. The general reader cannot feel them, they are
presented so curtly and coldly: they are not like breathing stories
appealing to his heart, but little historic hail-stones striking him but to
glance off his bosom: nor can he understand them; for epitomes are not
narratives, as skeletons are not human figures.

Thus records of prime truths remain a dead letter to plain folk: the
writers have left so much to the imagination, and imagination is so rare
a gift. Here, then, the writer of fiction may be of use to the public - as
an interpreter.
There is a musty chronicle, written in intolerable Latin, and in it a
chapter where every sentence holds a fact. Here is told, with harsh
brevity, the strange history of a pair, who lived untrumpeted, and died
unsung, four hundred years ago; and lie now, as unpitied, in that stern
page, as fossils in a rock. Thus, living or dead, Fate is still unjust to
them. For if I can but show you what lies below that dry chronicler's
words, methinks you will correct the indifference of centuries, and give
those two sore-tried souls a place in your heart - for a day.
It was past the middle of the fifteenth century; Louis XI was sovereign
of France; Edward IV was wrongful king of England; and Philip "the
Good," having by force and cunning dispossessed his cousin Jacqueline,
and broken her heart, reigned undisturbed this many years in Holland,
where our tale begins.
Elias, and Catherine his wife, lived in the little town of Tergou.