In the time of the war between the Burgundians; and the Armagnacs, (*) there happened at Troyes in Champagne, a rather curious incident which is well worth being recorded, and which was as follows. The people of Troyes, though they had been Burgundians, had joined the Armagnacs, and amongst them there had formerly lived a fellow who was half mad, for he had not entirely lost his senses, though his words and actions showed more folly than good sense--nevertheless he would sometimes say and do things which a wiser than he could not have bettered.
(*) The reign of Charles VI, after the a.s.sa.s.sination of the Duc d"Orleans by Jean-sans-Peur, was marked by along civil war between the factions here named, and who each in turn called in the aid of the English.
To begin the story, however; this fellow who was in garrison with the Burgundians at Sainte Menehould, one day told his companions that if they would listen to him, he would teach them how to catch a batch of the yokels of Troyes, whom, in truth, he hated mortally, and they hardly loved him, for they had always threatened to hang him if they caught him. This is what he said:
"I will go to Troyes and will approach the fortifications, and will pretend to be spying round the town, and will measure the moat with my lance, and will get so near the town that I shall be taken prisoner.
I am sure that as soon as the good _bailli_ gets hold of me, he will condemn me to be hanged, and there is no one in the town who will take my part for they all hate me. So, early the next morning, I shall be taken out to the gibbet, (*) and you will all be hidden in the thicket which is near the gibbet. And as soon as you see me arrive with the procession, you will spring out upon them, and take whom you like, and deliver me out of their hands." All his companions in garrison with him agreed to this willingly, and told him that if he would dare this adventure, they would a.s.sist him to the best of their power.
(*) The gibbet was usually outside the town, often at some considerable distance from the walls.
To shorten the story, the simpleton went to Troyes as he had said, and, as he desired, he was taken prisoner. The report soon spread through the town, and there was no one who did not say he ought to be hanged; even the Bailli, as soon as he saw him, swore by all his G.o.ds that he should be hanged by the neck.
"Alas! monseigneur," said the poor fool, "I pray for mercy. I have done nothing wrong."
"You lie, scoundrel," said the Bailly. "You have guided the Burgundians into this district, and you have accused the citizens and merchants of this city. You shall have your reward, for you shall be hanged on a gibbet."
"For G.o.d"s sake then, monseigneur," said the poor fellow; "since I must die, at least let it please you that it be in the early morning; so that, as I have many acquaintances in the town, I may not be held up to public opprobrium."
"Very well," said the Bailly, "I will think about it."
The next morning at day-break, the hangman with his cart came to the prison, and hardly had he arrived than there came the Bailly with his sergeants, and a great crowd of people to accompany them, and the poor fellow was laid, bound, on the cart, and still holding the bagpipe he was accustomed to play. Thus he was led to the gibbet, accompanied by a larger crowd than most have at their hanging, so much was he hated in the town.
Now you must know that his comrades of the garrison of Sainte Menehould had not forgotten their ambuscade, and ever since midnight had been collected near the gibbet, to save their friend, although he was not overwise, and also to capture prisoners and whatever else they could.
When they arrived they took up their position, and put a sentinel in a tree to watch when the Troyes folk should be gathered round the gibbet.
The sentinel was placed in his position, and promised that he would keep a good watch.
Then all the crowd came to the gibbet, and the Bailli gave order to despatch the poor fool, who for his part wondered where his comrades were, and why they did not rush out on these rascally Armagnacs.
He did not feel at all comfortable, and he looked all round, but chiefly towards the wood, but he heard nothing. He made his confession last as long as he could, but at last the priest went away, and the poor fellow had to mount the ladder, and from this elevated position, G.o.d knows that he looked often towards the wood; but it was of no avail, for the sentinel, who was to give the signal when the men were to rush out, had gone to sleep in the tree.
The poor fellow did not know what to say or do, and verily believed that his last hour had come. The hangman began to make preparations to put the noose round the victim"s neck, who, when he saw that, bethought him of a trick, which turned out well for him, and said;
"Monseigneur le Bailli, I beg you for G.o.d"s sake, that before the hangman lays hands on me, I may be allowed to play a tune on my bagpipe.
That is all I ask; after that I shall be ready to die, and I pardon you and all the others for having caused my death."
His request was granted, and the bagpipe was handed up to him. As soon as he had it, he began, as leisurely as he could, to play an air which all his comrades knew very well, and which was called. "You stay too long, Robin; you stay too long."
At the sound of the bagpipe the sentinel woke, and was so startled that he tumbled out of the tree to the ground, and cried,
"They are hanging our comrade! Forward! Forward! make haste!"
His comrades were ready, and at the sound of the trumpet they sallied out of the wood, and rushed upon the Bailly and all the others who were round the gibbet.
The hangman was too frightened to put the rope round the man"s neck and push him off the ladder, but begged for his own life, which the other would willingly have granted but it was not in his power. The victim, however, did something better, for from his place on the ladder he called out to his comrades, "Capture that man, he is rich; and that one, he is dangerous."
In short, the Burgundians killed a great number of those who had come out of Troyes, and captured many others, and saved their man, as you have heard, but he said that never in all his life had he had such a narrow escape as on that occasion.
[Ill.u.s.tration: 76.jpg Caught in the Act.]
STORY THE SEVENTY-SIXTH -- CAUGHT IN THE ACT. [76]
By Philippe De Laon.
_Of the chaplain to a knight of Burgundy who was enamoured of the wench of the said knight, and of the adventure which happened on account of his amour, as you will hear below._
I have often heard related, by people worthy of credit, a curious history, which will furnish me a tale without my adding or suppressing one word that is not needed.
Amongst the knights of Burgundy was formerly one, who, contrary to the custom of the country, kept in his castle--which I will not name--a fair wench to serve as his mistress.
His chaplain, who was young and frisky, seeing this nice wench, was not so virtuous but that he felt tempted, and fell in love with her, and when he saw his opportunity, told her of his love. The damsel, who was as sharp as mustard, for she had knocked about so much that no one in the world knew more than she did, thought to herself that if she granted the priest"s request her master would hear of it, however much she tried to conceal it, and thus she would lose the greater for the less.
So she determined to relate the affair to her master, who when he heard of it did nothing but laugh, for he had partly suspected it, having noticed the looks, conversation and little love-tricks that pa.s.sed between the two. Nevertheless, he ordered the wench to lead the priest on, without, however, granting him her favours; and she did it so well that the priest fell into the trap. The knight used often to say him;
"By G.o.d, sir, you are too friendly with my chamber-wench. I do not know what there is between you two, but if it is anything to my prejudice, by Our Lady, I will punish the two of you."
"In truth, monseigneur," replied the Dominie. "I do not pretend to expect anything from her. I talk to her to pa.s.s the time, as everyone else in the house does, but never in my life would I seek her love, or anything of the kind."
"Very well," said the lord, "if it were otherwise I should not be best pleased."
If the Dominie had importuned her before, he now pursued her more than ever, and wherever he met the wench he pressed her so closely that she was obliged, whether she would or not, to listen to his requests, and, being cunning and deceitful, she so played with the priest and encouraged his love, that for her sake he would have fought Ogier the Dane himself.
As soon as she had left him, the whole conversation that had pa.s.sed between them was related to her master.
To make the farce more amusing, and to deceive his chaplain, he ordered the girl to appoint a night for him to be in the _ruelle_ of the bed where they slept. She was to say to him. "As soon as monseigneur is asleep, I will do what you want; come quietly into the _ruelle_ of the bed."
"And you must," he said, "let him do what he likes, and so will I; and I am sure that when he believes I am asleep, that he will soon have his arms round you, and I will have ready, near your ----, a noose in which he will be nicely caught."
The wench was very joyful and satisfied with this arrangement, and gave the message to the Dominie, who never in his life had been more delighted, and, without thinking of or imagining peril or danger, entered his master"s chamber, where the wench and his master slept. He cast all sense and decency to the winds, and only thought of satisfying his foolish l.u.s.t,--albeit it was quite natural.
To cut the story short, Master Priest came at the hour appointed, and crept quietly enough, G.o.d knows, into the _ruelle_ of the bed, and his mistress whispered to him;
"Don"t say a word: when monsieur is fast asleep I will touch you, and then come to me."
"Very good," he replied.
The good knight, who was not asleep, had a great inclination to laugh, but checked himself, in order not to spoil the joke. As he had proposed and arranged, he spread his noose where he wished, that is to say round the spot where the priest wanted to get.
All being ready, the Dominie was called, and as gently as he could, slipped into the bed, and without more ado, mounted on the heap in order to see the further. (*)
(*) A proverbial expression founded perhaps on some old story which may be alluded to also in the 12th and 82nd stories.