CHAPTER III.
THE ABBESS MEROFLEDE.
Upon leaving the workshop, the intendant Ricarik, followed by the oldgoldsmith, proceeded to a vast shed located outside of the abbey. Almostall the slaves and colonists who had ground-rent to pay to the monasterywere gathered at the place. There were four days in the year set asidefor the payment of major rents. At these periods, the products of theland that was cultivated, and with so much labor, by the Gauls, flowedin a strong and steady stream into the abbey. Thus abundance and leisurereigned within the holy precincts of this, the same as of all the othermonasteries, while the enslaved populations, barely sheltered inthatched hovels, lived in perpetual and atrocious misery, borne down byall manner of exactions. Few sights could be imagined, more lively andyet so sad, than those presented at the payment of the ground-rent. Thepeasants, barely clad, whether slaves outright or only colonists, whoseleanness told of their trials, arrived carrying on their shoulders orpushing in carts provisions and products of all sorts. To the tumultuousnoise of the crowd was added the bleating of sheep and calves, thegrunting of pigs, the lowing of cattle, the cackling of poultry--animalsthat the rent payers had to bring alive. Some of the men bent under theweight of large baskets filled with eggs, cheese, butter and honeycombs;others rolled barrels of wine that were taken to the abbey's gate on asort of sled; yonder, wagons were unloaded of their heavy bags of wheat,of barley, of spelt, of oats or of mustard grain; here, hay and strawwere being heaped up in high piles; further away, kindling wood orbuilding material, such as beams, planks, boards, vine poles, stakes;forester slaves brought in bucks, wild boars and venison to be smoked;colonists led by the leash hunting dogs that they had to train, orcarried in cages falcons and sparrow-hawks that they had taken fromtheir nests for falconry; others, taxed in a certain quantity of ironand lead, necessary articles in the construction of the buildings of theabbey, carried these metals, while others brought rolls of cloth and oflinen, bales of wool or of hemp for spinning, large pieces of wovenserge, packages of cured hides, ready for use. There were also tenantswhose rent consisted in certain quantities of wax, of oil, of soap andeven resinous torches; baskets, osier, twisted rope, hatchets, hoes,spades and other agricultural implements. Finally, others had to paywith articles of furniture, and household utensils.
Ricarik sat down at one of the corners of the shed near a table toreceive the money tax of the colonists who were in arrears, whileseveral turning-box sisters of the convent, dressed in their long blackrobes and white veils, went from group to group with a parchment scrollon which they entered the rent in kind. The old goldsmith stood behindRicarik and examined one after another the sous and the silver andcopper deniers that were being paid in. He approved them all. Thevenerable old man feared to expose the poor people to bad treatment ifhe rejected any coin, seeing the intendant was merciless. The colonistswho were unable to pay on that day made a considerable group, andanxiously awaited their names to be called. Many of them wereaccompanied by their wives and children. Those who had the money to payhaving acquitted themselves, Ricarik called in a loud voice:"Sebastian!" The colonist advanced all in a tremble with his wife andtwo children at his side, all of them as miserably dressed as himself.
"Not only have you not paid your rent of twenty-six sous," said theintendant, "but last week you refused to cart to the abbey the woolenand linen goods that the abbess sent to Rennes. A bad payer, adetestable servant."
"Alack, seigneur! If I have not paid my rent it is because shortlybefore harvest time the storm destroyed my ripe wheat. I might stillhave saved something if I could have attended to the crop immediately,but the slaves who work the field with me were requisitioned away fiveout of seven days in order to work at the enclosures of the new park ofthe abbey and in draining one of the ponds. Left alone, I could not takein the remnants of the harvest; then came the heavy rains; the wheatrotted on the ground and the whole harvest was lost. All I had left wasone field of spelt; it had not been badly treated by the storm; but thefield is contiguous to the forest of the abbey, and the deer ravaged thecrops as they did the year before."
Ricarik shrugged his shoulders and proceeded: "You owe besides, sixcart-loads of hay; you did not fetch them in, yet the meadows that youcultivate are excellent. With the surplus of six cart-loads you couldeasily get money and fulfill your engagements."
"Alack, seigneur! I never get to see the first cut of those meadows. Theherds of the abbey come to pasture on my lands from early spring. If Iset slaves to keep them off, a fight breaks out between my slaves andthose of the abbey; one day mine are beaten, the next mine beat theothers. But however it be, I am deprived of the help of their arms.Besides, seigneur, almost every day has its special duties; one day wehave to prune the vines of the abbey, another we have to plow, harrowand plant its fields; yet another, we have its crops to cart away;another day it is the fences that have to be repaired. We have latelyalso had ditches to dig when the abbess feared that the convent was tobe attacked by some bands of marauders. At that time we also had tomount guard.... If out of three nights one is compelled to spend two onhis feet, and then to work from early dawn, strength fails and the workis neglected."
"What about the cartage that you refused?"
"No, seigneur, I did not refuse to make the cartage. But one of myhorses was foundered with too heavy a load and too long a stretch forthe abbey. It was not possible to execute your orders for the lastcartage."
"If you have only one foundered horse, how do you expect to cultivateyour fields? How will you pay your back rent and the rent of next year?"
"Alack, seigneur! I am in a cruel fix. I have brought with me my wifeand children. Here they are. They join me in beseeching you to remitwhat I owe. Perhaps in the future I shall not meet so many disasters oneafter another."
At a sign from the unhappy Gaul, his wife and children threw themselvesat the feet of the intendant and with tears in their eyes implored himto remit the debt. Ricarik answered the colonist: "You have done wiselyin bringing your wife and children with you; you have saved me thetrouble of sending for them. I know of a certain Jew of Nantes calledMordecai, who loans money on bodily security. He will advance at leastten gold sous on your wife and two children, both of whom are old enoughto work. You will be able to invest the money in the purchase of a horseto replace the one that was foundered. Later, after you shall havereimbursed the Jew his loan, he will return you your wife and children."
The colonist and his family heard with stupor the words of theintendant, and broke out into sobs and prayers. "Seigneur," said theGaul, "sell me if you like as a slave; my condition will not be worsethan it is now; but do not separate me from my wife and children.... Inever shall be able to pay my back rent and reimburse the Jew; I preferslavery to my present life as a colonist. Have pity upon us!"
"That will do!" said Ricarik. "You have too numerous a family to feed;that is what is ruining you.... When you will have only your own needsto attend to, you will be able to pay your rent, and with Mordecai'sloan you will be enabled to continue to work." Turning thereupon to oneof his men: "Take the wife and children of Sebastian to the JewMordecai, he happens to be here now."
Bonaik sought to mollify the Frank, but in vain, and Ricarik proceededto call up by their names other colonists who were in arrears with theirrent. The intendant was at this work when a lad of from seventeen toeighteen was dragged before him. The lad offered violent resistance tohis captors and cried: "Let me go! I have brought three falcons and twogoshawks for the abbess' perch as my father's rent.... I took them fromtheir nests at the risk of breaking my bones.... What is it you want?"
"Ricarik," said one of the slaves of the abbey who was dragging the lad,"we were near the fence of the abbey's perch when we saw a sparrow-hawk,still hooded, that had escaped from the falconer's hand. The bird flewonly a little distance. Being impeded by its hood, it fell down close tothe fence. This lad immediately threw his cap upon the bird and put itinto his bag. We caught the thief in the act. Here is the bag. The
sparrow-hawk is inside with its hood still on."
"What have you to say?" asked Ricarik of the young lad who remainedsomber and silent. "Do you know how the law punishes the theft of asparrow-hawk? It condemns the thief to pay three silver sous or to allowthe bird to eat six ounces of flesh from his breast. I have a good mindto apply the law to you as a salutary example to other hawk thieves....What have you to say?"
"If our abbess," the lad answered boldly, "gives our flesh for pastureto her hunting birds, as true as my name is Broute-Saule, sooner orlater I shall have my revenge on her and you!"
"Seize him!" cried Ricarik. "Let him be tied down to a bench outside ofthe shed so that his punishment be public.... Let the flesh on hisbreast be offered to the sparrow-hawk for pasture!"
"Butcher!" cried the lad. "If I ever catch you or your abbess of thedevil alone, you will make the acquaintance of my knife!"
The crowd of slaves who witnessed the scene broke out into violentshouts against Broute-Saule, who was impious enough to express himselfin such terms on the abbess Meroflede, and the wretches crowded eachother in their curiosity to witness the punishment. The young Gaul wasstripped of his clothes to the waist and tied down, face up, to a stoutbench that stood outside of the shed. Ricarik then made a slightincision on the right breast of the lad so as to whet the hawk'sappetite. Attracted by the blood, the bird pounced upon the breast ofBroute-Saule, into whose flesh it stuck its beak.
At this moment the tramp of several horses was heard, and immediatelythe slaves and colonists who stood near the bench on which Broute-Saulelay, and with a greedy gap watched his punishment, fell upon theirknees. The abbess Meroflede had ridden in among them, mounted upon avigorous grey stallion. Curious to ascertain the cause of the excitedcrowd that stood outside of the shed, the abbess reined in her horsewith a sudden tug at the reins. Meroflede was dressed in a long blackrobe; a white veil, fastened under her chin, framed in her face. Claspedat the height of her neck, a sort of caped red cloak floated in thebreeze over her monastic garb. Slender, tall and graceful, the woman wasabout thirty years of age. Her features would have been handsome but fortheir combined expression that was alternately sensuous, haughty orsavage. Her face, wan from excess, rivaled by its pallor the whitenessof the veil that surrounded it, the same as the color of her cloak viedwith her red and lascivious lips that were shaded by a light moustacheof reddish gold. Her hooked nose terminated in palpitating and inflatednostrils. Her large eyes of sea-green color glistened under thick andreddish eyebrows. Meroflede reined in her horse near the crowd, whichknelt down, and in doing so discovered to her sight the half-nakedyouth, whose breast the sparrow-hawk had begun to peg into. Broute-Sauleturned towards her his face that nestled in his black and wavy hair, anddespite the pain that the bird's beak gave him, the young Gaul, whosefeatures were expressive of involuntary admiration, cried: "Howbeautiful she is!"
Motionless, with the gloved hand that held her whip reclining upon herthigh, Meroflede looked steadily upon the slave whose flesh the hawk waseating up; on the other hand, insensible to his own pain, Broute-Saulecontemplated the abbess and repeated in a low voice as if in a rapture:"How beautiful she is! Oh, madam, the Queen Mary and mother of God isnot more beautiful!"
For a few seconds Meroflede contemplated the spectacle; she then calledRicarik, leaned down over her saddle, whispered a few words to him, andcasting a last look at Broute-Saule she departed at a gallop withoutbestowing upon the kneeling slaves and colonists the benediction thatthe poor wretches expected from their abbess.