The Pilgrim's Shell or Fergan the Quarryman Part 26

"Can it be true!" exclaimed the two women, folding their hands together.

"There is to be no war?" And running to Colombaik, on whose neck she threw herself, Martine cried out: "Did you hear your father? There is to be no war! What happiness! It is over! Let's rejoice!"

"Upon my soul, dear Martine, so much the better!" remarked the young tanner, returning the embrace of his wife. "We shall not recoil before war, but peace is better. So, then, father, everything is adjusted? The bishop pays, or surrenders the horse? Justice will be enforced against that scamp of a Black John? And the King, true to his oath, backs the Commune against the bishop?"

"My friends," answered the quarryman, "we must, all the same, not hope for too much."

"But what about what you said just before," replied Joan with returning uneasiness, "did you not tell me the news was good?"

"I said, Joan, that the news was favorable to peace. Here is what happened last night: You heard the insolent answer of the bishop, reported at the meeting of the Councilmen by our neighbor Quatre-Mains, the baker, an answer that was rendered all the more threatening by the entry of the King into our city at the head of an armed troop of men.

The Councilmen decided to take measures of resistance and safety. As constable of the militia, I ordered watchmen placed at all the towers that command the gates of the city, with orders to close them and allow none to enter. I likewise issued orders to the guilds of the blacksmiths, locksmiths and armorers to turn out quickly a large number of pikes, to the end of being able to arm all the male inhabitants.

Quatre-Mains, like a man of foresight and good judgment, proposed sending under a good escort for all the flour in the mills of the suburbs, fearing the bishop may have them pillaged by his men to starve out Laon. These precautions being taken, they were reported to the Council. We did not recoil before war, but did all we could to conjure it away. It was agreed that John Molrain was to appear before the King and pray him to induce the bishop to do us justice, and to promise henceforth to respect our charter. The Mayor went to the house of the Sire of Haut-Pourcin, where the King had taken quarters. Unable, however, to see the Prince, he conferred long with Abbot Peter de la Marche, one of the royal counselors, and showed him that we demanded nothing but what was just. The abbot did not conceal from John Molrain that the bishop, having ridden ahead with the King, had entertained him for a long time, and that Louis the l.u.s.ty seemed greatly irritated against the inhabitants of Laon. John Molrain had had dealings with the Abbot de la Marche on the confirmation of our Commune. Knowing the abbot's cupidity, he said to him: 'We are resolved to maintain our rights with arms, but before arriving at such extremities we desire to try all the means of conciliation. No sacrifice will be too great for us. Already have we paid Louis the l.u.s.ty a considerable sum to obtain his adhesion to our charter, let him deign to confirm it anew and to order the bishop to do us justice. We offer the King a sum equal to that which he received before. And to you, seigneur abbot, a handsome purse as a testimony of our grat.i.tude.'"

"And attracted by such a promise," put in Colombaik, "the abbot surely accepted?"

"Without making any promises, the tonsured gentleman agreed to communicate our offer to the King when he retired, and he made an appointment with John Molrain for eleven in the evening. The Councilmen, having approved the proposition of the Mayor, went over the city, soliciting each of our friends to contribute according to his power towards the sum offered to the King. This last sacrifice was expected to roll away from our city the threatened dangers of war. All the inhabitants hastened to put in their quota. Those who had not enough money, gave some vessel of silver; women and young girls offered their trinkets and their collars; finally, towards evening, the sum or its equivalent in articles of gold and silver was deposited in the communal treasury. John Molrain returned to the King to hear his answer. The Abbot de la Marche informed the Mayor that the King did not seem indisposed to accept our propositions, but that he desired to wait till morning before taking a definite resolution. There is where matters now stand. In a hurry to make the rounds of our watchmen, and having no time to come here for money, I requested our good neighbor the baker to pay for us our share of the contribution. Colombaik shall take to Ancel the money he advanced for our family."

"Surely the King will accept the offer of the Councilmen," observed Joan, "what interest could he have in refusing to profit by so large a sum? He is a greedy prince. He will accept our money."

"What a wretched trader that Louis the l.u.s.ty is!" exclaimed Colombaik.

"He has us pay him to confirm our charter, and he has us pay him a second time to re-confirm it. Patient people that we are! We must pay, and pay again!"

"What does it matter, my child," said Joan; "provided no blood flows, let us pay a double tribute, if necessary!"

"'It is with iron that tribute should be paid to kings,' said our ancestor Vortigern to that other tonsured representative sent by Louis the Pious," rejoined Colombaik, looking almost with regret at the iron pikes that his apprentices, who had not intermitted their work, were engaged upon. "Oh, those times are long gone by!"

"Fergan!" suddenly Joan called out, inclining her head towards the street; "listen! Is not that the bell, and the voice of a crier. Let's find out what is up--"

At these words the quarryman's family approached the open window. The sun had just risen. A crier of the bishop, distinguishable by the arms embroidered on the breast of his coat, was seen pa.s.sing the house. He alternately rang his bell and then cried out: "In the name of our seigneur the King! In the name of our seigneur the Bishop! Inhabitants of Laon a.s.semble in the market-place at the eighth hour of the day!" and the crier rang anew his bell, the sound of which was soon lost in the distance. For an instant the family of the quarryman remained silent, each seeking to guess the object of the King and the bishop in ordering the a.s.semblage. Joan, always yielding to hope, said to Fergan: "The King probably wishes to a.s.semble the inhabitants in order to announce to them that he accepts the money and confirms the charter anew."

"If such was the intention of Louis the l.u.s.ty, if he had accepted the offer of the Commune, he would have notified the Mayor," the quarryman answered, sadly shaking his head.

"Perhaps he has done that. We may expect him to have done so, father."

"In that case the Mayor would have issued orders to ring the belfry bell, in order to a.s.semble the communiers and announce to them the happy tidings. I do not like this convocation, made in the name of the King and the bishop. It presages nothing good. We have everything to fear from our enemies."

"Fergan!" replied Joan alarmed, "must we, then, renounce all hope of an accommodation? Is it war? Is it peace?"

"We shall soon be clear upon that. It will not be long before the eighth hour will sound," whereupon Fergan resumed his casque and his sword, which he had put away upon entering, and said to his son: "Arm yourself and let's go to the market-place. As to you, my young ones," said he, turning to the apprentices, "continue adjusting the pike-heads to the shafts."

"Fergan!" exclaimed Joan anxiously, "you foresee war?"

"Oh, Colombaik," said Martine, weeping and throwing herself upon the neck of her husband, "I die with fear, when I think of the dangers that you and your father are about to run!"

"Be comforted, dear wife, by ordering these preparations of resistance to continue, my father only adopts a measure of prudence," answered Colombaik. "The situation is not desperate."

"My dear Joan," the quarryman said sadly, "I have seen you bear up more bravely on the sands of Syria. Remember what perils you, your child and I escaped during our long journey in Palestine, and when we were serfs of Neroweg VI--"

"Fergan," Joan broke in, overcome with anguish, "the dangers of the past were terrible, and the future looks menacing."

"We were all so happy in this city!" muttered Martine. "Those wicked episcopals, so anxious to turn our joy into mourning, have, nevertheless, the same as the communiers, wives, mothers, sisters, daughters!"

"That is true," said Fergan bitterly; "but those men of the n.o.bility and their families, driven by the pride of station and living in idleness, are furious at no longer being able to dispose of our hard labor. Oh! If they tire our patience and if they mean to reconquer their hateful rights, woe be unto the episcopals! Terrible reprisals await them!" And embracing Joan and Martine, the quarryman added: "Good-bye, wife; good-bye, my child."

"Good-bye, good mother; good-bye, Martine," Colombaik said in his turn, "I accompany my father to the market-place. Soon as we shall have definite information, I shall return to let you know. Remain at ease and without any apprehensions."

"Come, daughter," said Joan to Martine, after once more embracing her husband and her son, who forthwith went out, "let's resume our sad task.

For a moment I had hoped we could drop it."

The two women began anew to prepare lint and bandages, while the young apprentices, resuming their work with renewed ardor, continued shafting the iron pikes.

CHAPTER VII.

"TO ARMS, COMMUNIERS!"

An ever increasing crowd flowed into the market-place. Not now, as on the previous day, did joy and the breath of security brighten the faces of men, women and children gathering to celebrate the inauguration of the communal Town Hall and belfry, the symbol of the emanc.i.p.ation of the inhabitants. No; neither women nor children a.s.sisted at this gathering, so different from the first. Only the men met, sombre, uneasy, some determined, others crestfallen, and all foreseeing the approach of a public danger. a.s.sembled in large groups around the pillars of the market-place, the communiers discussed the latest tidings--not yet known by Fergan at the time when, in the company of his son, he left his house--significant and alarming tidings. The watchmen on the towers, between which one of the gates of the city opened on a promenade that extended between the ramparts and the episcopal palace, had seen a large troop of woodmen serfs and colliers, with Thiegaud, the bandit and favorite of Bishop Gaudry, march into the palace at daybreak. A short time after daybreak, the King, accompanied by his knights and men-at-arms, had also retired into the fortified dwelling of the prelate, leaving Laon by the south gate, which the sentinels had not dared to refuse to open to the royal cavalcade. The courtiers of the King having warned him that the inhabitants of the city had been up all night, and that the blacksmiths' and locksmiths' anvils had constantly rung under the hammer in the manufacture of a large number of pikes, such preparations of defence, such a nocturnal excitement, all so contrary to the peaceful habits of the townsmen, awoke the royal suspicions and fears, and he had hastened to transfer his quarters to the episcopal palace, where he considered himself safer. Instructed on the departure of the Prince, the Mayor, John Molrain had himself run to the episcopal palace, where admission was refused him. Foreseeing as much, the Mayor had provided himself with a letter to the abbot counselor of the King, in which Molrain repeated his propositions of the previous day, and implored the King to accept them in the name of public peace. Molrain added that the Commune held the promised sum at the disposal of the King. To a letter so wisely framed and so conciliating, the King sent for answer that in the morning the inhabitants of Laon would be apprized of his pleasure. During that same night, it had been noticed in the city that the episcopals, entrenched in their fortified and solidly barricaded houses, had frequently exchanged signals among themselves by means of torches placed at their windows and alternately lighted and extinguished. These alarming tidings demolished almost completely the hope of an accommodation, and threw the communiers into a state of increasing anxiety. The Councilmen had been the first to appear at the market-place, where they were soon joined by the Mayor. The latter, grave and resolute, ordered silence, mounted one of the stands in the deserted stalls and said to the crowd:

"The eighth hour of the day will soon sound. I have ordered the messenger of the King to be allowed into the city when he presents himself at the gate. The King and the bishop have ordered us to meet here, at the market-place, to hear their pleasure. We prefer to receive the royal message at our Town Hall. That is the seat of our power. The more that power is contested from us, all the more zealous should we show ourselves in holding it high."

The Mayor's proposition was received with acclamation, and while the crowd followed the magistrates, Fergan and his son, commissioned to wait for the King's messengers, saw Archdeacon Anselm approaching with hurried steps. Thanks to his goodness and his uprightness, the prelate was beloved and venerated by all. Making a sign to the quarryman to draw near, he said to him in an agitated voice: "Will you join me in an endeavor to avert the frightful misfortunes that this city is threatened with?"

"The King has not, then, been moved even by the last sacrifice that we imposed upon ourselves? He refused the offer of John Molrain?"

"The bishop, learning that the Mayor had offered the King a considerable sum for the re-confirmation of your charter, offered Louis the l.u.s.ty twice as much to abolish the Commune, and promised rich presents to the King's counselors."

"And the King gave ear to such an infamous auction sale?"

"He gave ear to the suggestions of his own cupidity. He listened to the counselors that surround him, and he accepted the bishop's offer."

"The oath that Louis the l.u.s.ty took, his signature, his seal affixed to our charter--all that is then nullified?"

"The bishop absolved the King of his oath, by virtue of his episcopal power of binding and unbinding here on earth. A sacredotal chicanery."

"The King is in error if he expects to receive the price of that infamous traffic. The treasure of the bishop is empty. How could the King, so astute a trader, rely upon the promises of Gaudry?"

"Once the bishop's seigniorial power is restored, he will clap upon the townsmen, who will have again become taxable and subject to any imposts at his mercy, a tax to pay the sum promised to the King, and the latter himself will lend armed a.s.sistance to the bishop to levy the new contributions."

"Fatality!" cried out Fergan in an outburst of rage. "We shall, accordingly, have paid to obtain our enfranchis.e.m.e.nt, and are to pay over again to fall back into servitude!"

"The projects of the bishop are as criminal as insane. But if you desire to ward off even greater dangers, you will try to allay the popular effervescence when the decision of the King shall be announced to the Councilmen."

"You advise a cowardly act! No, I shall not seek to pacify the people, when the insolent challenge shall have been thrown in their faces! You will hear me the first to cry out: 'Commune! Commune!' and I shall march at the head of my forces against the bishop. It will be a battle to the knife!"

"Will you promise me not to precipitate so b.l.o.o.d.y a solution, that I may make new efforts to lead the bishop back to more equitable sentiments?"