CHAPTER XXV.
A HELEBORE WREATH.
THE destruction of Le Gros Guillem's body of men at La Roque Gageac wasthe prelude to the surrender of the citadel of Domme. The small garrisonleft in charge of that stronghold was panic-stricken when it heard thetidings from La Roque. The whole country was in arms. The citizens hadmarshalled in the square, and the soldiers, deserting the town, hadtaken refuge in the castle. Without head, without prospect of relief,hemmed in by the Bishop's troops that arrived from Sarlat and La Roqueon one side, menaced from Beynac, where was a royal garrison, onanother, and from Fenelon on a third, where the baron was loyal to theFrench crown as well as a personal enemy of Guillem, the remnant of theCompany that had acknowledged Guillem as Captain was fain to capitulate;and the confederate troops under the governor of La Roque were contentto accord terms, knowing the danger of driving these freebooters todesperation.
They were suffered to march forth with their arms. They retreated up theDordogne to Autoire, an impregnable stronghold, at that time in thepower of a Chief of Companies, who they knew would welcome them, andafford them fresh opportunities of ravage and of gaining spoil.
The history of France presents but one period of greater horror thanthat of the Free Companies--namely, the epoch of the wars of religion.But practically these latter wars were the outcome of the former. Forthree hundred years the barons and the great seigneurs of Aquitaine hadbeen free to act in accordance with their passions, uncontrolled by anyhand. They had made war against each other on no provocation; they hadmade the cities and commercial towns their common prey. The onlypossible way in which a community of peaceful citizens or of villagerscould struggle on was by contracting patis or compacts with the barons,whereby they undertook to pay them an annual sum, and on this agreementwere freed from vexation by his armed men. The younger sons of thebarons, and bastards, collected about them the scum of society, runawayserfs, escaped felons, adventurers from Spain, from Brabant, from Italy,but chiefly Gascons, drilled them, armed them, maintained them in strictdiscipline, captured such castles as seemed to them most advisablecentres as dominating fertile districts, or else constructed otherswherever was a rock that lent itself to defence; and thence they carriedtheir arms in all directions. They came in torrents down from theCausses and the Cevennes upon Languedoc. They ravaged Auvergne, theycarried their incursions into Berry and the Limousin. The king ofFrance, the estates of the several provinces, were powerless to rid thecountry of them. Again and again vast sums of money were collected andpoured into their bottomless purses, and the Companions promised onreceipt of these sums to surrender their castles and quit the country.But very generally they only half-fulfilled their undertaking. Theyyielded up a fortress or two; they drifted off over the Pyrenees intoSpain, or over the Alps into Italy, and not finding there the spoil theywanted, or meeting there with reverses, they turned their faces againtoward France and reoccupied their old nests or constructed fresh ones,and all the old evils returned in aggravated form.
The mediaeval historian Villani, who died in 1363, gives an account ofthe formation of one of these terrible bands, which may serve as anexample of the constitution of all. He says that in 1353 a knight of St.John of Jerusalem, wearied of his order and its discipline, renouncedhis vows and formed a Company of Free Companions in the marches ofAncona.
"Brother Moriale called together by letter and message a great number ofsoldiers out of employ. He bade them come to him, and promised to defraytheir expenses and to pay them for their services. This succeededadmirably; he gathered about him fifteen hundred bassinets and more thantwo thousand comrades, all men greedy to live at the cost of others."Very speedily this Company began its ravages. "They rode about thecountry and pillaged on all sides. They attacked Feltramo, took it bystorm and killed five hundred men. As the country round was rich theyremained in Feltramo a month, ravaging it. During the period of theseincursions the terror inspired by the Company made every castle in theneighbourhood surrender. Crowds of mercenaries who had finished theirterm of service flocked to Moriale, hearing exaggerated rumours of thegreat spoil gained by the Company, and many soldiers refused allengagements, saying that they would serve under this freebooter only."
Moriale observed the greatest exactitude in the distribution of thebooty. Objects that had been stolen were sold by his orders, and he gavefree passes to purchasers, so that by this means men who had beenplundered might come to the fair he held and recover by payment thegoods of which they had been despoiled. He instituted a treasurer, andhad regular accounts kept of what was taken, and what prices were paidfor things sold. He exacted as strict obedience as any feudal lord. Headministered justice, and his judgments were invariably executed.
It was not till long after the English domination had ceased, and whichhad furnished these ruffians with an excuse for their violence, that theplague of the Free Companies was put down. One of the very worst of allwas that of the "Ecorcheurs," or Flayers, and had nothing whatever to dowith the English. It was headed by Alexander de Bourbon, a mere boy, whohad been given minor orders to enable him to hold a fat canonry. TheFlayers professed "that all the horrors hitherto committed from thebeginning of the war would be but as child's play compared to theirexploits."
A great Council of Captains of Companies was held at Monde, in theGevaudan, in 1435, when the soil of France, of Aquitaine, of Languedoc,of Provence was parcelled up among them, each having his region allottedhim in which to plunder and work havoc.
So long as the English held Aquitaine it was impossible for the crown ofFrance to control this terrible plague. Every baron, every little noble,as well as every great prince who found his liberty in the leasttouched, his misdeeds reproved, at once transferred his allegiance tothe English crown, and the English king was too far off, and too greatlyin need of assistance, to be nice in choosing his partisans, and not towink at their misdoings.
The money that had been taken from Levi was restored by Jean del' Peyra,but not without murmurs from those who had assisted in the capture ofl'Eglise Guillem. The peasants could see the justice in surrenderingevery article recovered to the claimants who could establish theirrights and show that they had been plundered of these objects. Even thebook of the Chanson de Geste of Guerin de Montglane had found an owner.Most of the ecclesiastical goods had been restored to churches. Articlesof clothing had been divided among those who had helped to take anddestroy the vulture's nest. This all seemed to them reasonable enough,but that so large a sum as a hundred livres should be surrendered to adog of a Jew, solely because he had been despoiled of it--that was whatthey could not understand. If he had been robbed of the money it waswell--Jews were made to be plundered. Equal justice was not due to thosewho had crucified the Christ. Jean, had however, been firm, and had heldto his intention. Rather than irritate the peasants to rebellion againsthis decision, he surrendered to them his entire share in the spoil ofthe robber's stronghold.
The gratitude of the Jew at the unexpected recovery of his money wasprofuse. Jean paid little regard to his demonstration. A year later andhe had reason to congratulate himself on having done an act of justice,for Levi assisted him in the purchase of the Seigneurie of Les Eyzieswith it feudal stronghold and the flourishing village at its feet. Butthis is an event of the future. We are concerned now only with what tookplace in the memorable winter that saw the destruction of the band of LeGros Guillem, and that preceded the great battle of Castillon and theruin of the English cause in Guyenne.
Jean had become exceedingly anxious to obtain tidings of Noemi. Afterthe terrible death of her father, the butchering of his followers, thesurrender of Domme, and the dispersion of the remainder of his band, heknew not what had become of her. She had relatives at La Roque--theTardes--that he knew, and he was therefore satisfied that she was nothomeless and destitute. But that anything out of the wreck of Le GrosGuillem's accumulations had been preserved for her, he was doubtful. WhoGuillem was, whence sprung, of what pa
rents, no one knew. Whether he hadany surname no one could say. Like many another Captain of the period hehad escaped from the common mass of adventurers by the force of hisabilities, by his superior power, by his daring courage. It had been sowith that redoubted soldier of fortune, "Le petit Meschin,"[10] who froma scullion had risen to be the scourge of whole provinces, and to defeatand well-nigh exterminate a royal army under a prince of the blood. Evenrenegade priests had headed bands of brigands and distinguishedthemselves by their outrages of all laws human and divine.
[10] "Picciolo servo fuggito, di oscura lugo nato."--Villani.
The "Eglise Guillem" in the rocks of the left bank of the Vezere was noinheritance of the robber chief, but had been taken by him and occupiedas a stronghold of his own, and none had dared to reclaim it and attemptto dislodge him, till the attack by the peasants that has been recorded.
Jean felt that a painful obligation lay on him to see Noemi. Her fatherhad met with a terrible death at the hands of his father, who had playedwith the wretched man as a cat with a mouse before he had cut the cordand precipitated him to his death. Le Gros Guillem had forfeited everyright to command sympathy by his treatment of Ogier--in casting him downthe _oubliette_ and then by his treacherous attempt to have him murderedby his two men-at-arms. Nevertheless, he was Noemi's father, and hismangled corpse lay between Jean and her, and across that and theterrible wrongs committed by the dead man and the revengeful executionthe hands of Jean and Noemi could never meet.
But the word of affiance had been spoken, and spoken solemnly, beforemany witnesses, and it had been sealed with the giving of a ring. Such aword could not be broken. In popular superstition it bound even beyondthe grave. Release could be had only by mutual consent and therestoration of the pledge. Jean rode to La Roque, full of trouble atheart. He loved Noemi, he greatly esteemed her. He saw in her a noblesoul struggling to its birth with aspirations after something betterthan what she had known--gladly would he have taken her to be his, andhelped this uncertain, restless, eager spirit to unfold its wings, tobreak out of its shell, to look up and to soar into a pureatmosphere--but it might not be. The terrible shadow of Le Gros Guillem,the awful story of the past made this impossible.
As he was nearing La Roque, he suddenly drew rein--he saw Noemi. She wasseated on a mass of brown fallen leaves, and was plucking heleboreflowers. Even that act struck Jean to the heart. "She plays withpoison--seeks out the noxious, the deadly," he said. He leaped to theground, and holding the rein of his horse came to her.
"Noemi, what are you doing?"
"I am making a chaplet for the grave of my father."
"Of helebore?"
"What else suits? Would you have it of the innocent flower of the field?On such he trampled. They call this the wolf's flower--enfin! It is aflower!"
"Noemi, do you know why I have come?"
She stood up, holding the half-finished wreath in her hands and lookingdown. She did not answer, tears filled her eyes and trickled over hercheeks.
"Noemi," said he gravely, "you recall that incident by thecharcoal-burner's lodge, that moment of terrible danger when thepeasants, mad with revenge and success and the blood of the wolves theyhad killed, would have torn you----"
She did not answer. As she raised her hand with the helebore wreath, hesaw that the ring was on her finger where he had placed it.
"I said what I did then, and I placed on your finger that ring, which isindeed your own--as you had entrusted it to me to show to yourfather--and I declared before all present that you were affianced to me.It was so."
She bowed her head.
"But, Noemi, you know that this can never, never be."
She looked up quickly, sadly at him. Her eyes were full of tears.
Jean was deeply agitated.
"You must return me the ring--if only for the form's sake, so as to undothe pledge and dissolve the engagement--I will give it back to you as asurrender of a loan--as nothing else."
She put her fingers to the ring and drew it off, and without a wordoffered it to him.
He took the ring and looked at it, doubtful what more to say.
"Noemi," he asked, "whose arms are these engraved on it? They seem to meto belong to the Fenelon family."
"Yes--they are the Fenelon arms."
"Was the ring----" He was about to ask if it had been stolen, butchecked himself.
"It was my father's ring," she said in a low tone.
"Your father's! Was Le Gros Guillem a Fenelon?"
"Le Gros Guillem! Oh, no! Do you not know and understand?"
"Know, understand what?"
"Le Gros Guillem was not really my father; he carried off my mother fromFenelon, along with me when I was an infant in arms. Le Gros Guillemkilled my father, who was the Baron de Fenelon. But I was a child and Iwas brought up at Domme. I knew nothing of that. Le Gros Guillem alwaystreated me as his child and loved me as such, and I--I always called himand looked up to him as father."
"Noemi--is this true?"
She gazed at him full in the face. "I am no liar, Jean."
"Noemi, throw aside that helebore, open your arms. To my heart! to myheart! Take back the ring, all is well, is well. Mine for ever!"