CHAPTER III.

  HEVIN THE PEDDLER.

  The man who stepped into the house gave at the threshold a last shake tohis traveling boots, which were so covered with snow that he seemed tobe clad in white hose. He was of a robust frame, but squat and square,in the full strength of manhood, jovial and of an open yet determinedface. Still uneasy, Madalen did not take her eyes from him, and twiceshe made a sign to her son to return to her side. Removing the hood fromhis thick, ice-pearled coat, the peddler laid down his bulky bale, aheavy burden that, however, seemed light to his sturdy shoulders. Hethen removed his cap and stepped towards Araim, the oldest member of thehousehold:

  "Long life and happy days to hospitable people! This is Hevin thePeddler's wish to yourself and your family. I am a Breton. I was goingto Falgoet, when the night and the tempest overtook me on the beach. Isaw the light of this house from a distance; I came, I called, and thedoor was opened to me. Thanks to you all, thanks to hospitable people!"

  "Madalen, what gives you that absent and pensive look? Do not thepeddler's pleasant face and kind words set you at ease?"

  "Father, to-morrow rests with God--I feel all the more uneasy since thestranger's arrival."

  "Speak lower, lower still, dear daughter. The poor fellow might overhearyou and be grieved. Oh! these mothers! these mothers!"

  And addressing the stranger:

  "Draw near the fire, you sturdy peddler. The night is rough. Karadeucq,while we wait for supper, fetch a pot of hydromel for our guest."

  "I accept, good old man! The fire will warm me from without, thehydromel from within."

  "You seem to be a gay stroller."

  "So I am. Joy is my companion; however long or rough my road may be, joynever tires of following me."

  "Here--drink--"

  "Your health, good mother and sweet girl; to the health of you all--"

  And clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth: "This is the besthydromel I ever tasted. A cordial hospitality renders the best ofpotions still better."

  "Do you come from afar, gay stroller?"

  "Do you mean since I started this morning or since the beginning of myjourney?"

  "Yes, since the beginning of your journey."

  "It is now two months since I departed from Paris."

  "From the city of Paris?"

  "Does that surprise you, good old man?"

  "What! Cross half Gaul in such times as these, when the cursed Franksoverrun the country?"

  "I am an old roadster. For the last twenty years I have crossed Gaulfrom end to end. Is the main road hazardous, I take the by-path. Is theplain risky, I go over the mountain. Is it dangerous to travel by day, Ijourney by night."

  "And have you not been rifled a hundred times by those thievish Franks?"

  "I am an old roadster, I tell you. Accordingly, before enteringBritanny, I bravely donned a priest's robe, and painted on my pack a bigcross with flames red as hell-fire. The Frankish thieves are as stupidas they are savage; they fear the devil, whom the bishops frighten themwith in order to share with them the spoils of Gaul. They would notdare to attack me, taking me for a priest."

  "Come, supper is ready--to table," said old Araim; and addressing hisson's wife, who continued to give signs of preoccupation, he said to herin a low voice:

  "What is the matter, Madalen? Are you still thinking of the Korrigans?"

  "This stranger who disguises himself in the robe of a priest withoutbeing one will bring misfortune over our house. The tempest's fury seemsto have redoubled since he came in."

  It is an impossible thing to allay a mother's apprehensions once theyare aroused.

  The family and the guest sat down to table, ate and drank. The peddlerdrank and ate like a man to whom the road imparts a good appetite. Thejaws did their ample duty; teeth and tongues played their parts well;the family was in good spirits. It is not every long winter's night thatone has a peddler from Paris in his company.

  "And what is going on in Paris, brave roadster?"

  "The most satisfactory thing that I have seen in the city was theburying of the King of the cursed Franks!"

  "Ah! Is their King dead?"

  "He died more than two months ago--on the 25th of November of last year,of the year 512 of the 'Incarnation of the Word,' as the bishops say whoblessed and gave sepulchre to the crowned murderer in the basilica ofthe Holy Apostles at Paris."

  "Ah! He is dead, that Frankish King! And what was his name?"

  "He had a devil of a name, Hlode-Wig."

  "It must choke one to pronounce it--"

  "Hlode-Wig was his name. His wife, whom they call the Queen, is no lesshappily endowed--her name is Chrotechild--and her four children arenamed Chlotachaire, Theudeber--"

  "Enough! Friend peddler! A truce of those savage names! Those who wearthem are worthy of them."

  "Right you are, as you may judge by the deceased Hlode-Wig, or Clovis,as he is popularly pronounced; and his family bids fair to surpass evenhim. Imagine gathered in that monster, whom St. Remi baptised a son ofthe Church--imagine gathered in that one monster the cunning of the foxand the cowardly ferocity of the wolf. To enumerate to you the murdersthat he committed with his dagger or his axe would take too long. Ishall only mention some of the leading ones. An old Frankish chief, ahunchback named Sigebert, was King of Cologne. This is the way thesebandits become Kings: they pillage and ravage a province at the head ofa band, massacre or sell like so many heads of cattle men, women andchildren, reduce the rest of the inhabitants to slavery, and then theysay: 'Here we are Kings'; the bishops echo back: 'Yes, our friends theFranks are Kings here; we shall baptize them into the Church; and you,people of Gaul, obey them or we will damn you!"

  "And has there never been found any courageous man to plant a dagger inthe heart of such a King?"

  "Karadeucq, my pet, do not heat yourself in that manner. Thanks to God,that Clovis is dead. That is, at any rate, one less. Proceed, goodpeddler!"

  "Well, as I was saying, Sigebert the hunchback was King of Cologne. Hehad a son. Clovis said to him: 'Your father is old--kill him and youwill inherit his power.' The son sympathized with the idea and killedhis father. And what does Clovis do but kill the parricide andappropriate the kingdom of Cologne!"

  "You shudder, my children! I can well imagine it. Such are the new Kingsof Gaul!"

  "What, you shudder, my hosts, at so little? Only wait. Shortly afterthat murder, Clovis strangled with his own hands two of his nearrelatives, father and son, named Chararic, and plundered them of whatthey themselves had plundered Gaul of. But here is a still worseincident: Clovis was at war with another bandit of his own royal familynamed Ragnacaire. He ordered a set of necklaces and baldrics to be madeof imitation gold, and sent them through one of his familiars to theleudes who accompanied Ragnacaire with the message that, in exchange forthe present, they deliver to him their chief and his son. The bargainwas struck, and the two Ragnacaires were delivered to Clovis. This greatKing thereupon struck them both down with his axe like oxen in theslaughter house; he thus at one stroke committed two crimes--cheated theleudes of Ragnacaire and murdered their chiefs."

  "And yet the Catholic bishops preach to the people submission to suchmonsters?"

  "Certes, seeing that the crimes committed by these monsters are thesource of the Church's wealth. You can figure it out for yourself, goodold man, the murders, fratricides, parricides and acts of incestcommitted by the great Frankish seigneurs yield more gold sous to thefat and do-nothing bishops than all the lands, that your hard and dailytoil fructifies, yield deniers to you. But listen to another of Clovis'prowesses. In the course of time he had either himself despatched orordered others to massacre all his relatives. One day he gathers aroundhim his forces and says with a moan:

  "'Woe is me! I am now left all alone, like a traveler among strangers; Ihave no relatives left to help me in case adversity overtake me.'"

  "Well, so at last he repented his many crimes--it is the least of thepunishments that await him."
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  "He repent? Clovis? He would have been a big fool if he had, good oldman! Do you forget that the priests relieve him of the burden of remorsein consideration of good round pounds of gold or silver?"

  "And why, then, did he use those terms; why did he say: 'Woe is me! I amnow left all alone, like a traveler among strangers; I have no relativesleft to help me in case adversity overtake me?'"

  "Why? Another trick of his. No, in the language of a bishop himself whochronicled the life of Clovis, it was not that Clovis grieved over thedeath of all the relatives whom he had caused to be put to death; no, itwas a ruse on his part when he held that language, malefactor that hewas; he only wished thereby to ascertain whether there was any relativeleft, and then to kill him."

  "And yet was there not a single man resolute enough to plant a dagger inthe monster's breast?"

  "Keep quiet, bad boy! This is the second time that you have given ventto those sentiments of murder and vengeance! You only do so to frightenme!"

  "Dear wife, our son Karadeucq is indignant, like anyone else, at thecrimes of that Frankish King. By my father's bones! I who am not of anadventurous disposition, I say myself--it is a shame to Gaul that such amonster should have reigned fourteen years over our country--Britannyfortunately excepted."

  "And I, who in my trade of peddler have crossed Gaul from end to end,and seen the country's wretchedness and the bloody slavery thatoppresses it, I say that the people's hatred should fall as heavily uponthe bishops! Was it not they who called the Franks into Gaul? Was it notthey who baptised the murderer a son of the Roman Church? Did they notpropose to canonize the monster with the title of 'Saint Clovis?'"

  "God in heaven! Is it craziness or cowardly terror on the part of thosepriests?"

  "It is unbridled ambition and inveterate cupidity, good old man. Atfirst, allied to the Roman emperors from the time that Gaul became againa Roman province, the bishops succeeded by underhanded means to securelarge endowments for themselves and their churches and to occupy theleading magistracies in the cities. That did not satisfy them; theycounted upon being better able to dominate the barbarous Franks than thecivilized Romans. They betrayed the Romans to the Franks. The lattercame; Gaul was ravaged, pillaged and subjugated, and the bishops sharedthe plunder with the conquerors whom they speedily placed under theirthumb through the fear of the devil. And so it happens that thesesanctimonious men have become richer and more powerful under theFrankish than under the Roman rule. Now old Gaul has become their quarryjointly with the barbarians; they now possess vast domains, all mannerof wealth, innumerable slaves--slaves that are so well chosen, trainedand docile to the whip that an 'ecclesiastical slave' generally fetchestwenty gold sous in the market, while other slaves fetch only twelvesous. Would you form an idea of the wealth of the bishops? Thisidentical St. Remi, who baptised Clovis in the basilica of Reims, andthus approved him a worthy son of the holy Roman Church, was so fatlyremunerated that he was able to pay five thousand pounds of silver bythe weight for the domain of Epernay."

  "Oh! Thus to traffic in the blood of Gaul! It is horrible! It isshocking!"

  "Oh! That is still nothing, good father. Had you traveled as I have doneover regions that were once so flourishing, and seen them now, ravagedand burned down by the Franks! Had you seen the bands of men, women andchildren, bound two by two, marching among the cattle and wagons heapedwith booty of all sorts, that the barbarians drove before them afterthey conquered the country of Amiens, which I then happened tocross--had you seen that, you would have felt your heart bleed as minedid."

  "And where did they take those men, women and children whom they carriedaway as slaves?"

  "Alas! good mother, they took them to the banks of the Rhine, where theFranks keep a large market of Gallic flesh. All the barbarians ofGermany who have not yet broken into our unhappy country, repair thitherto supply themselves with slaves of our race--men, women and children."

  "And what becomes of those who remain in Gaul?"

  "The men of the fields are enslaved and made to cultivate under the rodof the Franks their own ancestral estates that King Clovis divided withhis leaders, his old comrades in pillage and massacre, and whom he sincehas made dukes, marquises and counts of our country. But there are stillsome drops of generous blood left in the veins of old Gaul. Even if therule of the Franks and the bishops is to endure, they will, at least,not enjoy their conquest in peace."

  "How so?"

  "Did you ever hear of the Bagaudy?"

  "Certainly, and praisefully, too."

  "What is the Bagaudy, grandfather?"

  "Let me first answer our friend the peddler--it will be information toyou also. My grandfather Gildas told me that he heard from his fatherthat, a few years after the death of Victoria the Great, the firstBagaudy took place, not in Britanny, but in the other provinces.Irritated at seeing herself again reduced to the level of a Romanprovince, as a result of the treason of Tetrik, and of being obliged topay heavy imposts into the empire's fisc, Gaul rose in rebellion. Theuprisings were called 'Bagaudies.' They threw the emperor Diocletianinto such consternation that he hurried an army into Gaul to combatthem; at the same time, however, he remitted the imposts, and grantedalmost everything that the Bagauders demanded. As you see, it is only aquestion of knowing how to present one's demand to kings and emperors.Bend your back and they will load it to the breaking point; show yourteeth and they remove the load--"

  "Well said, old father--beg them with clasped hands, and they laugh;make your demand with clenched fists, and they yield--that was anothergood feature of the Bagaudy."

  "Well, there were so many good features about it, that, towards themiddle of last century, it was started against the Romans anew. Thattime it spread as far as Britanny, to the very heart of Armorica. But weonly talked about it, there was no occasion for serious action. The timewas well chosen; if my memory serves me right, I was one of those whoaccompanied our venerated druids to Vannes, to the curia of that townwhich consisted of Roman magistrates and officers. To them we said:

  "'You govern us Breton Gauls in the name of your emperor; you lay ratherheavy imposts upon us, always in the name and for the benefit of thesame emperor. For a long time we have found that very unjust. We enjoy,it is true, our freedom and citizen rights. Nevertheless our subjectionto Rome galls us. We think the hour has come for us to emancipateourselves. The other provinces are of the same mind, seeing that theyare rebelling against your emperor. Accordingly, it now pleases us tobecome free once more, as independent of Rome as we were before theConquest of Caesar, as we were at the time of Victoria the Great.Accordingly, ye Roman officials and tax-gatherers, pack yourselves off.Britanny will henceforth keep her silver and gold to herself, and willgovern herself without your help. A happy journey to you, and do notcome back again; if you do, you will find us in arms ready to receiveyou with our swords, and, if need be, our scythes and forks.'

  "The Romans went, their garrisons along with them. Without troops toenforce their decrees, the magistrates took their departure, and neverreturned. The Bagaudy in Gaul and the Franks on the Rhine kept theirhands full. This second Bagaudy, like the first, had its good effect, inour province even better than elsewhere, seeing that the bishops, havingjoined the Romans, succeeded in imposing themselves upon the otherprovinces of Gaul, but were prevented by the Bagaudy from making theirweight felt as heavily as in former years. As to ourselves, of BretonArmorica, Rome never sought to resubjugate us. From that time on, andobedient to our ancient custom, each tribe chooses its own chief, andthese choose a chief of chiefs who governs the land. He is kept if hedoes well, he is removed if he does not give satisfaction. It hascontinued so to this day, and I hope will ever be, despite the doings ofthe cursed Franks outside of Britanny. The last Breton will have diedbefore our Armorica shall be conquered by the barbarians as they havedone the rest of Gaul. And now, friend peddler, I understand you to saythat the Bagaudy is again raising its head, now against the Franks? Somuch the better! They will, at least, as you say,
not enjoy theirconquest in peace, if the new Bagauders are worthy of the old."

  "They are, good old man; they are; I have seen them at work."

  "The Bagauders are, then, numerous armed troops?"

  "Karadeucq, my pet, do not excite yourself--listen withoutinterrupting."

  "Bad boy, he can only think of battles, revolts and adventures!"

  And the poor woman added in a low voice in Araim's ear:

  "Was there any occasion for the peddler to mention such matters beforemy son? Alas! I told you so, father, it is an ill wind that blew thisman into our house."

  "Do you think him in league with the Dus and Korrigans, Madalen?"

  "What I believe is, father, that a misfortune threatens this house. Iwish this night were over, and it were to-morrow!"

  And the alarmed mother sighed while the peddler answered Karadeucq, whohung upon the stranger's words:

  "The new Bagauders, my brave lad, are what the old ones were. Terribleto the oppressors, kind to the people."

  "Do the people love them?"

  "Whether they love them! Aelian and Aman, the two chiefs of the firstBagaudy who were put to death nearly two centuries ago in an old Romancastle near Paris, at the confluence of the Seine and the Marne--Aelianand Aman are to this day loved by the people as martyrs!"

  "Ah! Theirs is a happy fate! To be still loved by the people after twocenturies! Did you hear that, grandfather?"

  "Yes, I did, and so did your mother--see how sad she looks."

  But the "bad boy," as the poor woman called him, already seeming inthought to be running the Bagaudy, cast inquisitive and ardent looks atthe peddler, and asked:

  "Did you ever see the Bagauders? Were there many of them? Had theyalready run any raids against the Franks and bishops? Is it long sinceyou saw them?"

  "Three weeks ago, on my way hither, as I crossed Anjou. One day I missedmy road in the forest. Night fell upon me. After having walked a long,long while, and going astray ever deeper in the woods, I noticed at adistance a bright light that issued from a cavern. I ran thither. ThereI found about a hundred lusty Bagauders. They were resting around a firewith their Bagaudines, because you must know that they are generallyaccompanied by determined women. A few nights before, they had made adescent upon some Frankish seigneurs, our conquerors, and attacked their'burgs' as the barbarians term their castles. The Bagauders foughtfuriously and without neither mercy or pity; they pillaged churches andepiscopal villas, exacted ransom from the bishops, hung from the treesthe most perverse of the priests who fell into their hands, rifled thecoffers of the royal tax-collectors, and slew whatever Frank came intheir way. But, as fast as they took from the rich, they gave to thepoor. They generously distributed among these the plunder of the richprelates and Frankish counts, and set free all the chained slaves whomthey found. Ah! By Aelian and Aman, the patrons of the Bagauders, thelife of those gay and brave fellows is a noble and happy one. Had I notbeen on my way to Britanny in order to see my old mother once more, Iwould have then and there joined them in running the Bagaudy in Anjouand the contiguous provinces."

  "And what must one do in order to be admitted into the ranks of thoseintrepid people?"

  "The first thing to do, my brave lad, is to sacrifice one's skin inadvance; you have to be robust, agile, courageous; you must love thepoor, swear eternal hatred for the Frankish counts and the bishops;feast by day and bagaude by night."

  "And where are their haunts?"

  "You might as well ask the birds of the air where they perch, the beastsof the wood where they lie down. Yesterday on the mountain, to-morrow inthe woods, marching ten leagues during the night, hiding for days insuccession in the nearest cave--the Bagauder knows not to-day where hewill be to-morrow."

  "It must, then, be a lucky accident that would make one run acrossthem?"

  "A lucky accident for good people, an unlucky one for counts, bishops ortax-collectors!"

  "Was it in Anjou that you met that troop of Bagauders?"

  "Yes, in Anjou--in a forest about eight leagues from Angers, whither Iwas then bound--"

  "Do you notice my pet Karadeucq? Look at him! See how his eyes sparkleand his cheeks burn. Truly, if he does not dream of little Korrigansto-night, he will surely dream of Bagauders. Am I wrong, my lad?"

  "Grandfather, what I say is that the Bretons and the Bagauders are andwill be the very last Gauls. Were I not a Breton I would indeed run theBagaudy against the Franks and the bishops."

  "And it is my opinion, my grandson, that you will surely run it to-nightwith your head upon your pillow. I wish you pleasant dreams of theBagaudy, my pet. Now go to bed, it is late; you are making your motherfeel unnecessarily uneasy."