The Book of Were-Wolves - Sabine Baring-Gould (red queen free ebook TXT) 📗

tapestries of silk and cloth of gold, that the

sacred vessels were encrusted with gems, and that the vestments of the

priests were of the most sumptuous character. The excessive devotion

of the marshal was also noticed; he was said to hear mass thrice

daily, and to be passionately fond of ecclesiastical music. He was

said to have asked permission of the pope, that a crucifer should

precede him in processions. But when dusk settled down over the

forest, and one by one the windows of the castle became illumined,

peasants would point to one casement high up in an isolated tower,

from which a clear light streamed through the gloom of night; they

spoke of a fierce red glare which irradiated the chamber at times, and

of sharp cries ringing out of it, through the hushed woods, to be

answered only by the howl of the wolf as it rose from its lair to

begin its nocturnal rambles.

 

On certain days, at fixed hours, the drawbridge sank, and the servants

of De Retz stood in the gateway distributing clothes, money, and food

to the mendicants who crowded round them soliciting alms. It often

happened that children were among the beggars: as often one of the

servants would promise them some dainty if they would go to the

kitchen for it. Those children who accepted the offer were never seen

again.

 

In 1440 the long-pent-up exasperation of the people broke all bounds,

and with one voice they charged the marshal with the murder of their

children, whom they said he had sacrificed to the devil.

 

This charge came to the ears of the Duke of Brittany, but he

pooh-poohed it, and would have taken no steps to investigate the

truth, had not one of his nobles insisted on his doing so. At the same

time Jean do Châteaugiron, bishop of Nantes, and the noble and sage

Pierre de l’Hospital, grand-seneschal of Brittany, wrote to the duke,

expressing very decidedly their views, that the charge demanded

thorough investigation.

 

John V., reluctant to move against a relation, a man who had served

his country so well, and was in such a high position, at last yielded

to their request, and authorized them to seize the persons of the Sire

de Retz and his accomplices. A serjent d’armes, Jean Labbé, was

charged with this difficult commission. He picked a band of resolute

fellows, twenty in all, and in the middle of September they presented

themselves at the gate of the castle, and summoned the Sire do Retz to

surrender. As soon as Gilles heard that a troop in the livery of

Brittany was at the gate, he inquired who was their leader? On

receiving the answer “Labbé,” he started, turned pale, crossed

himself, and prepared to surrender, observing that it was impossible

to resist fate.

 

Years before, one of his astrologers had assured him that he would one

day pass into the hands of an Abbé, and, till this moment, De Retz had

supposed that the prophecy signified that he should eventually become

a monk.

 

Gilles de Sillé, Roger de Briqueville, and other of the accomplices of

the marshal, took to flight, but Henriet and Pontou remained with him.

 

The drawbridge was lowered and the marshal offered his sword to Jean

Labbé. The gallant serjeant approached, knelt to the marshal, and

unrolled before him a parchment sealed with the seal of Brittany.

 

“Tell me the tenor of this parchment?” said Gilles de Retz with

dignity.

 

“Our good Sire of Brittany enjoins you, my lord, by these presents, to

follow me to the good town of Nantes, there to clear yourself of

certain criminal charges brought against you.”

 

“I will follow immediately, my friend, glad to obey the will of my

lord of Brittany: but, that it may not be said that the Seigneur de

Retz has received a message without largess, I order my treasurer,

Henriet, to hand over to you and your followers twenty gold crowns.”

 

“Grand-merci, monseigneur! I pray God that he may give you good and

long life.”

 

“Pray God only to have mercy upon me, and to pardon my sins.”

 

The marshal had his horses saddled, and left Machecoul with Pontou and

Henriet, who had thrown in their lot with him.

 

It was with lively emotion that the people in the villages traversed

by the little troop, saw the redoubted Gilles de Laval ride through

their streets, surrounded by soldiers in the livery of the Duke of

Brittany, and unaccompanied by a single soldier of his own. The roads

and streets were thronged, peasants left the fields, women their

kitchens, labourers deserted their cattle at the plough, to throng the

road to Nantes. The cavalcade proceeded in silence. The very crowd

which had gathered to see it, was hushed. Presently a shrill woman’s

voice was raised:—

 

“My child! restore my child!”

 

Then a wild, wrathful howl broke from the lips of the throng, rang

along the Nantes road, and only died away, as the great gates of the

Chateau de Bouffay closed on the prisoner.

 

The whole population of Nantes was in commotion, and it was said that

the investigation would be fictitious, that the duke would screen his

kinsman, and that the object of general execration would escape with

the surrender of some of his lands.

 

And such would probably have been the event of the trial, had not the

Bishop of Nantes and the grand-seneschal taken a very decided course

in the matter. They gave the duke no peace till he had yielded to

their demand for a thorough investigation and a public trial.

 

John V. nominated Jean de Toucheronde to collect information, and to

take down the charges brought against the marshal. At the same time he

was given to understand that the matter was not to be pressed, and

that the charges upon which the marshal was to be tried were to be

softened down as much as possible.

 

The commissioner, Jean de Toucheronde, opened the investigation on the

18th September, assisted only by his clerk, Jean Thomas. The witnesses

were introduced either singly, or in groups, if they were relations.

On entering, the witness knelt before the commissioner, kissed the

crucifix, and swore with his hand on the Gospels that he would speak

the truth, and nothing but the truth: after this he related all the

facts referring to the charge, which came under his cognizance,

without being interrupted or interrogated.

 

The first to present herself was Perrine Loessard, living at la

Roche-Bernard.

 

She related, with tears in her eyes, that two years ago, in the month

of September, the Sire de Retz had passed with all his retinue through

la Roche-Bernard, on his way from Vannes, and had lodged with Jean

Collin. She lived opposite the house in which the nobleman was

staying.

 

Her child, the finest in the village, a lad aged ten, had attracted

the notice of Pontou, and perhaps of the marshal himself, who stood at

a window, leaning on his squire’s shoulder.

 

Pontou spoke to the child, and asked him whether he would like to be a

chorister; the boy replied that his ambition was to be a soldier.

 

“Well, then,” said the squire, “I will equip you.”

 

The lad then laid hold of Pontou’s dagger, and expressed his desire to

have such a weapon in his belt. Thereupon the mother had ran up and

had made him leave hold of the dagger, saying that the boy was doing

very well at school, and was getting on with his letters, for he was

one day to be a monk. Pontou had dissuaded her from this project, and

had proposed to take the child with him to Machecoul, and to educate

him to be a soldier. Thereupon he had paid her clown a hundred sols to

buy the lad a dress, and had obtained permission to carry him off.

 

Next day her son had been mounted on a horse purchased for him from

Jean Collin, and had left the village in the retinue of the Sire de

Retz. The poor mother at parting had gone in tears to the marshal, and

had entreated him to be kind to her child. From that time she had been

able to obtain no information regarding her son. She had watched the

Sire de Retz whenever he had passed through La Roche Bernard, but had

never observed her child among his pages. She had questioned several

of the marshal’s people, but they had laughed at her; the only answer

she had obtained was: “Be not afraid. He is either at Machecoul, or

else at Tiffauges, or else at Pornic, or somewhere.” Perrine’s story

was corroborated by Jean Collin, his wife, and his motherin-law.

 

Jean Lemegren and his wife, Alain Dulix, Perrot Duponest, Guillaume

Guillon, Guillaume Portayer, Etienne de Monclades, and Jean Lefebure,

all inhabitants of S. Etienne de Montluc, deposed that a little child,

son of Guillaume Brice of the said parish, having lost his father at

the age of nine, lived on alms, and went round the country begging.

 

This child, named Jamet, had vanished suddenly at midsummer, and

nothing was known of what had become of him; but strong suspicions

were entertained of his having been carried off by an aged hag who had

appeared shortly before in the neighbourhood, and who had vanished

along with the child.

 

On the 27th September, Jean de Toucheronde, assisted by Nicolas

Chateau, notary of the court at Nantes, received the depositions of

several inhabitants of Pont-de-Launay, near Bouvron: to wit, Guillaume

Fourage and wife; Jeanne, wife of Jean Leflou; and Richarde, wife of

Jean Gandeau.

 

These depositions, though very vague, afforded sufficient cause for

suspicion to rest on the marshal. Two years before, a child of twelve,

son of Jean Bernard, and another child of the same age, son of

Ménégué, had gone to Machecoul. The son of Ménégué had returned alone

in the evening, relating that his companion had asked him to wait for

him on the road whilst he begged at the gates of the Sire de Retz. The

son of Ménégué said that he had waited three hours, but his companion

had not returned. The wife of Guillaume Fourage deposed that she had

seen the lad at this time with an old hag, who was leading him by the

hand towards Machecoul. That same evening this hag passed over the

bridge of Launay, and the wife of Fourage asked her what had become of

little Bernard. The old woman neither stopped nor answered further

than by saying he was well provided for. The boy had not been seen

since. On the 28th September, the Duke of Brittany joined another

commissioner, Jean Couppegorge, and a second notary, Michel Estallure,

to Toucheronde and Chateau.

 

The inhabitants of Machecoul, a little town over which the Sire de

Retz exercised supreme power, appeared now to depose against their

lord. André Barbier, shoemaker, declared that last Easter, a child,

son of his neighbour Georges Lebarbier, had disappeared. He was last

seen gathering plums behind the hotel Rondeau. This disappearance

surprised none in Machecoul, and no one ventured to comment on it.

André and his wife were in daily terror of losing their own child.

They had been a pilgrimage to S. Jean d’Angely, and had been asked

there whether it was the custom at Machecoul to eat children. On their

return they had heard of two children having vanished—the son of Jean

Gendron, and that of Alexandre Châtellier. André Barbier had made some

inquiries about the circumstances of their disappearance, and had been

advised to hold his tongue, and to shut his ears and eyes, unless he

were prepared to be thrown into a dungeon by the lord of Machecoul.

 

“But, bless me!”