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About Google Book Search Google’s mission is to organize the world’s information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers discover the world’s books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web ai[http: //books . google. com/| PROPEDPTY OF "a SSF VE oO. ae ee eee \ ~i RITAS BOOKS BY ERNEST ALFRED VIZETELLY. WITH ZOLA IN ENGLAND: A Story of Exile. With four portraits. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d. THE SCORPION : A Romance of Spain. With a frontispiece. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d. A PATH OF THORNS. Crown 8vo., cloth, gilt top, 6s. THE LOVER'S PROGRESS, told by Himself and Dedicated to All who Love. Issued anonymously. Crown 8vo., cloth, gilt top, 6s. Also a Uniform Edition of M. ZOLA’S NOVELS, translated or edited, with prefaces, by E. A. VIZETELLy. Crown 8vo., cloth, 3s. 6d. each. CHATTO & WINDUS, 111, St. Martin's Lang, W.C. BLUEBEARD $, BARON OF RAIS, MARSHAL OF FRANCE, Monthancon's “Memoments de la Mewar. hie Franconse: BLUEBEARD AN ACCOUNT OF COMORRE THE CURSED AND GILLES DE RAIS WITH SUMMARIES OF VARIOUS TALES AND TRADITIONS BY . ERNEST ALFRED VIZETELLY . AurTHoR of = “THE TRUE STORY OF THE CHEVALIER D'EON,’ ‘A PATH OF THORNS,” ‘THR LOVER'S PROGRESS," ETC. WITH NINE ILLUSTRATIONS . LONDON CHATTO & WINDUS 1902 PREFAGE THE scope and purport of this book being explained in the introductory chapter, I need offer no very . lengthy prefatory remarks. It will be seen that the introduction glances at the folklore of the subject | have chosen, and that it is followed by accounts of Comorre and Gilles de Rais, two men who have long been mentioned in works of reference, all the world over, as the possible prototypes of Charles Perrault’s ‘ Barbe- Bleue.’ The narrative of the career of Gilles de Rais forms by far the greater part of the book, which may be taken, therefore, as being chiefly an excursion (by no means the first | have made) into that field of historical biography in which one so often discovers that real life is a great deal stranger than fiction. Although I mention in my introduction many | stories associated with Perrault’s tale, I do not claim that the list is exhaustive. My object has 345401 vi PREFACE ‘ been to give a variety of examples of the stories constituting what folklorists, I believe, call ‘the Bluebeard group.’ Moreover, if I have glanced at the views of the solar mythologists and others, I have done so merely in order that those readers who are ignorant of folklore theories may in some measure understand how it is that various mythical origins have been assigned to ‘ Bluebeard.’ Turning to the question whether Perrault derived less, perhaps, the subject-matter of his story than the xame of his ‘hero’ from some such character as Comorre or Gilles de Rais, I have given a number of traditions and tales about those men, as well as - accounts of their actual careers. The stories of Comorre are certainly more interesting than are the ~ facts of his real life, although, within the limits of his sphere of action, he was a personage of real importance in his time. That time, however, is far removed from us—it is like a forgotten charnel- house, in which linger a few dry bones of history— and unless one possess the pen of a Thierry, as in the ‘Récits des Temps Meérovingiens,’ it is difficult to make it live afresh. Nevertheless—apart from any Bluebeard theories—my account of Comorre, which differs in several respects from one which I contributed to the Gentleman's Magazine nearly a PREFACE vii quarter of a century ago (Zheu fugaces labuntur anni. . .), may be acceptable, perhaps, to the historical student, as I have now availed myself of the researches of M. de La Borderie, who has recon- structed the annals of a period of Breton history left by other writers in a state of absolute confusion. But it will be found that the chief interest of this book, if I may be so bold as to claim interest for it, centres in the personality of Gilles de Rais. My attempt to narrate his extraordinary career in some detail is, I think, the first of its kind in the English’ language, though in France of more recent times | numerous works respecting him have been written. Quicherat necessarily had to refer to Rais in his ‘Procés de Jeanne d’Arc’; but the first modern French historian who gave an approximate account .of the Marshal’s life and misdeeds was Michelet. The second, of note, was Vallet de Viriville, who wrote an article on Rais for the ‘ Biographie Didot,’ and who afterwards transferred the informa- tion collected in that article to his well-known ‘ Histoire de Charles VII.’ Then M. Paul Lacroix —the Bibliophile Jacob—recounted the Marshal's trial, more or less correctly, in his “Curiosités de l'Histoire de France’; M. Armand Guéraud, the Baron de Girardot, M. de Sourdeval, and others, Vill PREFACE particularly M. Paul Marchegay, contributed to the literature of the subject; and at last, after long years, M. René de Maulde transcribed the Latin text of the documents in the Ecclesiastical Pro- ceedings against the Marshal, and Abbé Bossard gathered together all the available facts, and pro- duced a work of considerable magnitude, which has remained, in France, the standard authority on Gilles de Rais. I have largely followed Abbé Bossard, as was indeed inevitable, for nobody could attempt to write on Rais without frequently consulting the Abbé’s book. But I have also studied the works of his forerunners, contemporaries and successors, as well as many of the documents, and have endeavoured to narrate the Marshal’s career with more regard for chronological order than the reverend Abbé observed. He, moreover, throughout his book, dedicated to Bishop Freppel of Angers, held a brief for a fellow-churchman—that is, Jean de Malestroit, the Bishop of Nantes who instituted the prose- cution of Gilles de Rais—whereas I have held a brief for nobody. I have written at greater length than Bossard on some phases of Gilles’ life, whilst dealing very briefly with others on which it seemed to me unnecessary to expatiate. For several reasons PREFACE ix I regard the career of Rais as one of the strangest the world has ever witnessed. If, as set down in this book, it should fail to interest the reader, the blame must attach to myself. With respect to Comorre, as I have already men- tioned, one finds the truth inferior to tradition ; but the contrary may well be asserted of the extra- ordinary personage whom Michelet for ever branded as the Exterminating Beast. Beside the fiendish crimes of the high and mighty Marshal de Rais, those of Perrault’s Bluebeard sink into insignificance. As for the question whether Perrault, when writing his story, derived any suggestion as regards either name or subject from the lives or traditions of Rais and Comorre, I need not discuss it in this preface, as I have dealt with it at length, first at the close of my account of Comorre, secondly at the end of the book. To those passages of my text I would refer the reader curious on the subject. In the appendix to the volume will be found some remarks on the alleged Beaumanoir Bluebeard, the Montfaucon portrait of Gilles de Rais, and the latter’s supposed connection with Jean Chartier the chronicler, as well as an excursus into the subject of Ys and other lost cities—Gradlon of Ys and his daughter, the Princess Aés, figuring incidentally in x PREFACE my account of Comorre. Now and again, too, I have added to my narrative sundry notes on legends and traditions of St. Gildas, St. Hervé, the Wild Huntsman, etc. I have also prepared an index, which I hope will be found adequate; and I must plead guilty to eight of the nine illustrations which accompany the text. E. A. V. MERTON, SURREY, April, 1902. CONTENTS INTRODUCTION PAGE CHARLES PERRAULT AND HIS TALES-—MYTH, FABLE, AND STORY - - - - - a | COMORRE THE CURSED A.D. 51§—555 I. LEGENDS OF COMORRE——BRITTANY IN EARLY TIMES - 37 Il. COMORRE'S CAREER — THE TRADITIONS AND PER- RAULTS TALE - - - - - 70 GILLES DE RAIS, MARSHAL OF FRANCE A.D. 1404—1440 I. DESCENT, PARENTAGE, POSSESSIONS, MARRIAGE, AND FIRST CAMPAIGNS - - - - - 113 Il. THE PATH OF GLORY—GILLES AND JOAN OF ARC—THE CLOSE OF GILLES’ MILITARY CAREER - - 141 lll. SPLENDOUR AND PRODIGALITY —‘THE MYSTERY OF ORLEANS ’—THE HOLY INNOCENTS - - - 197 IV. THE RESULT OF PRODIGALITY—THE SCRAMBLE FOR THE RAIS ESTATES - - - - 208 xii CONTENTS V. THE GREAT FORTRESS OF TIFFAUGES—ALCHEMY AND MAGIC - - - - - - VI. THE HORRORS OF MACHECOUL AND CHAMPTOCE—THE CRIMES OF THE EXTERMINATING BEAST - - VII, FRANCESCO PRELATI, THE DEVIL-RAISER—THE SPURIOUS MAID OF ORLEANS—GILLES LAST DAYS OF SIN, CRIME, AND VIOLENCE - : - - VIII. THE PRIVILEGES OF THE CHURCH—ARREST, TRIAL, AND EXECUTION OF GILLES, HENRIET, AND POITOU - IX. WIDOW AND DAUGHTER—GILLES DE RAIS AS BLUE- BEARD~—-CONCLUSION - ° - “. APPENDIX A. THE BEAUMANOIR BLUEBEARD - - - - B. YS AND OTHER LOST CITIES - - - . C. THE MONTFAUCON PORTRAIT OF GILLES DE RAIS - D. GILLES DE RAIS AND JEAN CHARTIER - - - INDEX - - - - - . - 230 255 283 326 370 400 401 405 407 409 ILLUSTRATIONS GILLES, BARON OF RAIS, MARSHAL OF FRANCE - Frontispiece CASTEL FINANS, OR THE GIANT'S CASTLE - - To face p. 40 MACHECOUL, THE BIRTHPLACE OF GILLES DE RAIS- ,_—s: 122 AN OLD GATE OF VANNES - - - : n» 138 CHAMPTOCE FROM THE VILLAGE SIDE - - 200 A TOWER OF TIFFAUGES - - - - 9 232 CHAMPTOCE FROM THE FISHPOND - - - = 264 THE CASTLE AND CATHEDRAL OF NANTES - - 336 EXPIATORY MONUMENT ERECTED BY MARIE DE RAIS ,, 382 BLUEBEARD INTRODUCTION CHARLES PERRAULT AND HIS TALES MYTH, FABLE, AND STORY Perrault’s Writings—His Brothers—The Fame of his Fairy Tales His First Ventures as a Story-teller—Was he helped by Children ?—Folk Tales traced from Myths—The Suggested _ Solar Myth of Napoleon—The War between Light and Dark- ness—‘ Bluebeard ’ as a Solar Myth, and as an Example of the Contest of Day and Night—Blue-bearded Deities—‘ Bluebeard’ exemplifying Ferocity, Deliverance, and Inquisitiveness—For- bidden Rooms in many Legends and Tales—Variations in the Number of Bluebeard’s Wives—Possible Sources of Perrault’s *Riquet,’ ‘Sleeping Beauty,’ and ‘Cinderella’—The Absence of Reference to ‘ Barbe-Bleue’ in French Literature before Perrault's Time—His Treatment of the Tale—A Curious Vendean Version—Alleged Historical Bluebeards: Comorre, Beaumanoir, Gilles de Rais. It is not always the book an author most prizes— the one which he regards as his masterpiece—that wins for him the recognition and remembrance of posterity. Had anybody predicted to Charles Per- rault, Comptroller of State Buildings and afterwards Secretary-General of Finance under Louis XIV.’s I 2 BLUEBEARD great minister Colbert, that his name would survive him only in connection with a little volume of nursery tales, he would doubtless have refused to believe it; for did he not extol in polished phrases the age of the Roi Soleil, and contend, even against so redoubt- able an adversary as Boileau, on the subject of the relative merits of ancient and modern authors? And did not that acrimonious controversy long stir all the rival literary sa/ozs of Paris in a manner which seemed to indicate that even if it should end it would never be forgotten? Again, Charles Perrault penned some erudite reflections on the writings of Longinus, ‘the living library,’ and made a metrical translation of the fables of Faerno, besides composing a poem on the art of Painting; and, assuredly, even those minor literary performances must have seemed to him more worthy of fame, and more likely to secure it, than the stories of fairies, giants, dwarfs, and beautiful princesses which he put together for the entertainment of children late in the autumn of his life. Yet nobody nowadays reads the ‘Siécle de Louis le Grand’ or the ‘ Paralléle des Anciens et des Modernes,’ whereas all Christendom remains familiar with Bluebeard, Cinderella, Hop o’ my Thumb, Little Red Riding Hood, Riquet with the Tuft, the Sleeping Beauty, and the other heroes and heroines of the little volume of stories which Perrault published almost surreptitiously when nigh to his seventieth year. Born in Paris in 1628, he was the son of an advocate, and the youngest of four brothers, all of INTRODUCTION 3 whom cultivated literature. Pierre, the eldest (1608-80), wrote several books, the principal of which seems to have been a treatise on the origin of springs. He also was employed in the Finance department by Colbert, rising indeed to the rank of Receiver-General, from which position he was dis- missed, however, by reason of some irregularities in his accounts, though, according to his apologists, he was not really responsible for them. The next brother, Nicolas (1611-61), became a ‘ Docteur- en-Sorbonne,’ and was one of the leading supporters of Arnault, in the famous controversy between the Jansenists and the Jesuits. Like Arnault, he attacked the latter in writing (a book of his, ‘ De la Morale des Jésuites,’ is still occasionally quoted), and on their triumph he figured, as a matter of course, among the seventy doctors expelled from the Sorbonne. Claude (1613-88), the next of the brothers Perrault, and the most versatile of them all, originally made medicine his study, but turned to architecture, and thereby became famous. As a literary man, he translated Vitruvius, and wrote on natural history, physics, mechanics, and other sub- jects ; whilst, as a disciple of art, he acquired con- siderable proficiency in painting and sculpture. But he is best remembered by the stately colonnade which adorns the Louvre, and which, curiously enough, was his architectural a¢but. It will be seen from the foregoing that each of the brothers Perrault was a gifted and able man ; but of all their work the world nowadays cares only I—2 4 BLUEBEARD for the first effort of Claude and the last effort of Charles—the great colonnade and the fascinating fairy tales. The latter have the gift of perennial youth ; they have been printed in hundreds of forms, translated again and again into at least a score of languages, and illustrated by artists innumerable. Indeed, in the whole field of European literature, one will find no more universal book than Perrault’s fairy tales—a book which has held its own for more than two hundred years, in spite of every rival ; for Grimm and Andersen, and all the other tellers and collectors of stories for the young, have never suc- ceeded in dethroning Perrault, however widespread may be the popularity which they have acquired. On the disgrace of Colbert in 1683, Perrault retired from his official position, and although for some years longer he remained a very prominent figure in the literary sa/ons then flourishing in Paris, he at last sequestered himself in his quiet home in the Faubourg Saint Jacques, where he died in May, 1703. His first attempt as a comteur was inspired by the success of his friend La Fontaine, and the first subject to which he addressed himself was the well-known story of ‘ Patient Grissel,’ which he found in Boccaccio,! who, according to some accounts, had it from Petrarch,? though others say that the latter took it from the author of the ‘Decameron.’ In England Chaucer appropriated it, and it became the Clerk’s Tale in the Canterbury 1 J] Decamerone,’ x. 10. 2 “De Obedientia et Fide Uxoria Mythologia.’ INTRODUCTION 5 series. Perrault’s version was called ‘La Marquise de Salusses, ou la patience de Griselidis,’ and was issued in 1691 by Coignard. Its reception en- couraged him, and two years later he produced * Les Souhaits ridicules '1 (‘ The Ridiculous Wishes’), which story was followed, in 1694, by ‘ Peau d’Ane” (‘Ass’s Skin’), an arrangement of a popular tale long current in France, one version having been done by Bonaventure Des Periers in the time of Francis I. Finally, in 1697 appeared ‘ Histoires ou Contes du Tems passé, avec des Moralités,’® the general collec- tion of stories which was to insure Perrault’s fame. It has been suggested that he may have given manuscripts of these tales to two publishers. At all events, those which had not previously appeared in Holland (where some earlier ones had been pub- lished) were seemingly issued there‘ at the same time as the general collection was produced in Paris. 1 «Le Mercure Galant,’ p. 37. 2 ‘Recueil de Pitces curieuses et nouvelles,’ vol. ii The Hague, Adrien Moétjens. Besides ‘ Peau d’Ane,’ ‘ Les Souhaits ridicules ’ and ‘Griselidis ’ are also printed in this volume. 8 «A Paris, chez Claude Barbin, sur le second perron de la Sainte Chapelle; au Palais. Avec Privilége de sa Majesté.’ 1697, 12M0., 230 pp. | 4 See vol. v. of Moétjens’s ‘ Recueil de Pitces curieuses,’ etc. The title-page of this volume is dated 1696, but its Fourth Part bears the date 1697, and in this section will be found the Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Bluebeard, Puss in Boots, the Fairies, Cinderella or the Little Glass Slipper (‘ Pantoufle de Verre’), Riquet with the Tuft, and Hop o’ my Thumb. As M. Giraud has pointed out, the question arises whether the Paris edition can really be called the original one, however fabulous the prices paid for it in auction-rooms. 6 BLUEBEARD Scholarly editors and commentators of our time— Messrs. Giraud,! Deulin,? Dillaye,® Lacroix,‘ Lang,5 and others—have discussed, though they have not solved, the question whether these tales of Perrault’s, or rather such of them as are in prose, were at least in part the composition of one of the ex-Comptroller’s sons. M. Deulin finds in them more simplicity of diction than a perusal of Perrault’s other works would lead one to expect, and is strongly inclined to the view that some child must have had a hand in them. Yet, if a man like the late Rev. C. L. Dodg- son—to take an example from English literature— could write both ‘ Euclid and his Modern Rivals’ and ‘Alice in Wonderland,’ surely the author of ‘Le Siécle de Louis le Grand’ may have been quite capable of penning ‘Les Contes du Tems passé’ without assistance. From one point of view, indeed, Mr. Dodgson’s achievement was more remarkable than Perrault’s, for he was only two-and-thirty when his ‘ Alice’ was published; whereas Perrault was sixty- nine at the time of the appearance of his collected stories. At the former age very few men indeed, even if they are fathers, are inclined to the telling of 1 ‘Les Contes des Fées . . .’ revised by Charles Giraud. Paris, 1864, and Lyons, 1865. 8vo. 2 «Contes de ma Mére l’Oye avant Perrault,’ by Charles Deulin. Paris, 1879. 1r2mo. 8 ‘Contes de Perrault,’ etc., notice by F. Dillaye. Paris, 1880. 8vo. 4 ‘Mémoires de Ch. Perrault,’ edited by Paul Lacroix. Paris, 1878. 1r2mo. 5 ‘ Perrault’s Popular Tales,’ edited, etc., by Andrew Lang. Oxford, 1888. 8vo. INTRODUCTION 7 nursery tales; but the sexagenarian is frequently drawn towards childhood. If there be little ones about him, particularly children or grandchildren of his own, he pictures himself living afresh in them, he watches their play, listens to their prattle, takes them on his knees, and, to tell them stories, finds once more the simple style, the easy words of the tales told him by his mother or his nurse when he himself was but a littlelad. In Perrault’s case some doubt exists as to the age of his children at the time his ‘Contes’ were probably drafted. Certain it is that in the Paris collected edition they were put forth as the work of a child, P. d’Armancour, who in a dedicatory epistle addressed to ‘ Mademoiselle ’ —that is, Elisabeth-Charlotte d’Orléans, sister of the Duc de Chartres, afterwards Duc d’Orléans and Regent of France—apologizes for his presumption in offering his work to that Princess.! The royal privilége or authorisation to print and publish was also granted to P. d’Armancour, which M. Deulin tells us should be read as ‘ Perrault d’Armancour,’ the name which a son of Charles Perrault assumed. And the explanation given for all this is that although the authorship of the ‘Contes’ was merely a secret de Polichtnelle, Perrault did not care to put his name to a book which he regarded as being more or less trivial and frivolous. Yet it was this very book which brought him fame. It is, of course, possible that he may have heard 1 ‘Mademoiselle’ was twenty years of age in 1697; in the following year she married the Duc de Lorraine. 8 BLUEBEARD some of his tales from children, and have endea- voured to imitate their zatveté of style; and, again, he may well have recalled stories told him in his boyhood. It, is in any case certain that several of those which he gathered together are, in their essen- tial lines, very old, and figured in one or another form among popular myths, legends and traditions. In these days the popular old tales have been often associated with myths and beliefs of the early ages. One particularly notorious school of folklorists carried back virtually everything to the sun, the moon, the aurora. It was asserted that the names given in the mythopoeic age to the celestial bodies, and the changing scenery of the atmosphere, lost in time a part or all of their original meaning, until they were at last looked upon as the names of real deities and beings, in whose actions and adventures one might trace disguised descriptions of the sweep of the clouds across the face of the sky, and the victory achieved over them by the sun. ‘A thousand phrases would be used to describe the action of a beneficent or consuming sun, of the gentle or awful night, of the playful or furious wind; and every word or phrase would become the germ of a new story as soon as the mind lost its hold on the original force of the name. Thus, in the polyonomy (the 1 A mere glance at Perrault’s life and the circumstances under which his tales were published has seemed sufficient here. For fuller information see the writings of Deulin, Dillaye, Lang, Lacroix, and the edition of the ‘ Contes’ edited by A. Lefévre, Paris, 1882, which contains a good biographical essay. INTRODUCTION 9 giving of several names to one object) which was the result of the earliest form of human thought, we have the germ of the great epics of later times, and of the countless legends which make up the rich stores of mythical tradition.’ Turning to the Vedic hymns, the sun was shown figuring therein as the bull, the beneficent fecundator of the beneficent fruitful power, which was the cow, typifying the dewy moon, or the dewy aurora.? Elsewhere, also, bull and cow appeared as symbols of the chief celestial bodies. Soon, however, in one and another mythological system the sun takes to himself the guise of a man, a hero-deity, and, as such, accomplishes innumerable exploits ; poets transforming the war in heaven between the various forces of nature into the strife of gods and men on earth ; as, for instance, with the siege of Troy, which, according to solar mythologists, was merely a ‘repetition of the daily siege of the East by the solar powers that every evening are robbed of their treasures in the West.’ And at least it has been claimed by many mythologists that all the great ancient epics and cycles—the ‘ Iliad,’ the ‘ Odyssey,’ the ‘ Volsungs,’ the ‘ Nibelungs,’ ‘ King Arthur and his Round Table,’ ‘The RamAayané,’ the ‘ Maha Bharata,’ the ‘Shah Nameh,’ and so forth—present similarities of incident and episode which point to a 1 Sir G. Cox’s ‘ Mythology of the Aryan Nations,’ p. 42, as quoted by Edward Clodd in ‘ Myths and Dreams’ (second edition, Chatto and Windus), 1891, p. 62. * Count Angelo de Gubernatis’ ‘Zoological Mythology, or Legends of Animals,’ etc. London, 1872, 2 vols., 8vo. 10 BLUEBEARD common derivation from old myth. The folk tales are in much the same position. ‘The fact abides that nursery stories told in Norway and Tyrol, in Scotland and the Deccan, are identical.) When identity is not absolute, great similarity is found, and one rises from the study of old tales with a keen impression of the limited number of plots at the disposal of the storyteller, who is ever travelling over ground explored by his predecessors, piecing ‘together narratives of which one feature has figured here, another there, a third elsewhere. But even should one assign a common mythic origin to the old tales, one is often forced to the conclusion that a certain amount of historical fact is blended with the fable and the symbolism to be found in them. We know nothing certain of King Arthur, whom the comparative mythologists regard as a mere myth, a variant of Sigurd and Perseus ; but, as Mr. Clodd has pointed out, in the romance woven around Arthur's personality, there was doubt- less something which corresponded to some probable event, fitted in with certain national traditions. The obscurity in which Arthur is enveloped is not proof of his non-existence. We might regard Alexander as mythical if merely the wondrous legends of him remained. Cyrus and Charlemagne might also become myths, if all true record of their doings were destroyed. And, in like circumstances, some thousands of years hence, it might be allowable for mythologists to adopt, in all seriousness, such 1 Clodd, 4.¢., pp. 70, 71. INTRODUCTION 1! a view as that of the French ecclesiastic who showed us ‘that Napoleon is cognate with Apollo, the sun, and his mother Letitia identical with Leto, the mother of Apollo; that his personnel of twelve Marshals were the signs of the Zodiac; that his retreat from Moscow was a fiery setting ; and that his emergence from Elba, to rule for twelve months, and then be banished to St. Helena, was the sun rising out of the Eastern waters to set in the Western ocean after twelve hours’ reign in the sky.” This example—although many more might be adduced, even from among contemporary events ; for instance, the Boer War would make as good a myth as the Siege of Troy—will suffice to indicate the weak point in the theories of those who detect a mythical origin and belief in everything of the early ages that is nowadays wrapped in obscurity. Some counterpoise to a myth-making disposition may be found in the research and the labour of those ex- plorers and excavators who raise from the shrouding earth the relics of ancient civilizations ; while the march of history itself, with its thousand repetitions, its frequent similarity of incidents in one age and another, should warn one against yielding too readily to the tendency to found, merely upon repeti- tion and similarity, the theory of a common origin. Two rivers may flow in the same direction and find their outlet in one and the same sea, without rising from the same source; as witness, for instance, the 1 Clodd, /¢., p. 64. 12 BLUEBEARD Loire, which comes from the Cévennes, and the Garonne, which rises in the Pyrenees. At the root of many of the mythical tales, accord- ing to some writers, one finds the never-ending battle between light and darkness, the former being usually symbolized by a hero, and the latter by a monster. Those taking this view have cited, for instance, the combats of Indra and Vitra, Traitana and Ahi, Ormuzd and Abriman, Feridun and Zohak, Michael and Satan, Abel and Cain, David and Goliath, even Jonah and the fish, Osiris, Horus and Typhon, Apollo and Pythén, Theseus and. the Minotaur, Perseus and the sea-monster, Hercules and Cacus, Thor and Midgard, Siegfried and the Nibelungs, Sigurd and Fafnir, St. George and the Dragon, and Beowulf and Grendel, besides many others, such as those which may be found in the Arthurian and similar romances. But at the first glance, it might seem difficult to associate the subject of this present book, that is, one of the most popular of Perrault’s tales—BLUEBEARD—with the great contest of the day and the night. Yet not many years ago commentators arose to do so. M. Hyacinthe Husson was content to picture Blue- beard as the sun devouring the aurora; but for M. Dillaye! he was the semblance of the dense and cruel night, who imprisoned and would slay his spouse the light, in whom was traced the highest expression of curiosity. For does not the light pry into everything, and even reveal everything to 1 Dillaye, /c., p. 217 ef seg. INTRODUCTION 13 others? Happily, the supreme power, unwilling that mortals should have to exchange the benefi- cence of daylight for the cruelty of darkness, resolved to save the latter’s imperilled victim, and sent to her relief two aurora, or rather the morn- ing and the evening stars—the Acvins of the ‘ Rig Veda,’ the twin Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux. Here one may well pause to recognise the ingenuity of M. Dillaye’s theory. He turned the tale of ‘Bluebeard’ into as pretty a little myth as could well be devised. Even the hue of the cruel husband’s beard is indirectly accounted for by the bluish blackness ascribed to night by the poets of all ages. One was carried far from the theories in which Husson brought forward, as a prototype of Perrault’s ‘hero,’ a certain Egyptian deity, Bés, who boasted an azure beard, whereupon another French commentator, following in the same track, turned to the ‘ Rig Veda,’ and quoted a passage which showed that Indra was blue-bearded also; whilst Greek and Latin authors depicted Zeus himself, the almighty Jupiter, ‘with beard and eyebrows of such blackness’ (¢ed/e- ment notrs) ‘that they appeared to be bluish, like the plumage of ravens!’ But another writer, Abbé Bossard, whose researches! will be largely followed in one section of this book, and who evinces, un- doubtedly, more scorn for myth than the occasion warrants, makes merry over the views of M. Husson 1 ‘Gilles de Rais, Maréchal de France, dit Barbe-Bleue,’ by Abbé Eugéne Bossard. Paris, 1886. 8vo. 14 BLUEBEARD and his partisans. ‘Just reflect,’ says he, ‘that the god Bés was perhaps symbolical of the Blve Nile, and that the origin of the tale ’ (‘ Bluebeard ’) ‘ would be wonderfully enhanced if one found it in the hidden sources of that famous river! Reflect that all the deities of the sea and the rivers, every Proteus of pagan antiquity, had blue hair and beard —ceruleus Proteus! And that the tradition of “ Bluebeard,” in coming down without a break to Perrault and ourselves, passed through the hands of Homer and Virgil! What a splendid origin! But to those who are fascinated by that fine reason- ing we will address only one question: What will future critics think if, after several centuries, there should be discovered a certain religious statuette, which we saw recently, and which an artist deemed it good taste to decorate with a beard of azure, of a brighter blue than the raven’s wing? There can be no doubt of the answer. That statuette will help to carry through future ages the tradition in which the god Bés supplies one link ; and our great-grand- nephews will rear upon it the theory which the Egyptian deity strengthens and illumines in so powerful a manner.”! On the other hand, it may well be admitted that ‘ Bluebeard’ offers features which are very sugges- tive of a mythic origin. On considering the tale under various aspects one finds it in some measure typical of ferocity, deliverance, and, more particularly, inquisitiveness. The first and second subjects have 1 Bossard, 14, p. 393. e INTRODUCTION Is not attracted much attention from commentators, unless it be to connect one with the sun devouring the aurora, and the other with the battle between darkness and light; but the third theme, that of imprudent curiosity and its consequences, has led to much research, particularly on the part of M. Charles -Deulin, who since 1876, when he published the result of his first investigations! has been followed and paraphrased by nearly all the editors of Perrault, some of whom have, now and again, added to his references. Taking ‘ Bluebeard,’ then, as typical of curiosity in woman, one may trace it back to the very beginning of the world, according to the Mosaic view. Eve and her apple, Lot’s wife and her backward glance, immediately suggest them- selves ; while the key which Bluebeard hands to his wife reminds one. irresistibly of Pandora's box, Psyche’s lamp, and Elsen’s question to the Knight of the Swan. The subject of human curiosity and its fatal effects has tempted story-tellers from the earliest times, which will appear only natural to those who incline to the view that curiosity with respect to their surroundings must have been one of the very first feelings of the primeval races.) And in a world which we cannot even imagine, of which, despite all the discoveries and suggestions of science, we have only the vaguest notions, a world in its genesis, still subject to extraordinary convulsions and phenomena, peopled with huge, strange, and 1 ‘Revue de France,’ tome xx. (number of March 30, 1876), P- 975 ef seg. 16 BLUEBEARD fierce creatures, the consequences of curiosity must often have been dire to man, that comparatively puny being who, after first wondering, turned to examine the earth on which he found himself, con- fronted at his first steps by that mighty work of conquest which has been his task throughout the ages. Thus, in all such stories as ‘ Bluebeard,’ there lingers a lesson which must have come down to us from the remotest of our ancestors. It may be pointed out, in this connection, that if we, accepting Biblical traditions, regard curiosity as being more largely an attribute of woman than of man, this idea has been by no means universal. In- quisitive men are found in many of the old tales. They appear in Russian as well as Oriental stories.? A familiar instance is that of the Third Calender in the ‘Arabian Nights’; and French examples are supplied by Elias, the King of Albanie, who mar- ried the fairy Pressina, and by Raimondin, the son of the Count of Forez, who espoused Pressina’s daughter, the famous Melusina, from whom the Lusignans of history claimed to descend. Pressina gave birth to three children, Melusina and two others ; and during a certain time Elias was for- bidden to enter the room which his wife occupied. He infringed the prohibition, and Pressina dis- appeared, carrying her children to a mountain sum- mit, whence she showed them the land where they would have liveg.in princely splendour had it not been for their father's fatal curiosity. Again, we 1 Lang, 4¢. INTRODUCTION 17 find Raimondin breaking the vow he had made never to enter the room wherein his wife, Melusina, secreted herself every Saturday, on which day she was condemned to become a blue serpent. Forbidden rooms and mysterious keys abound in the ancient fables. There is the forbidden room in which the treasures of Ixion are amassed, and which none may enter under penalty of being devoured by ever-raging fire. There is the forbidden chamber in which Jupiter keeps his thunderbolts, and the keys of which are known only to Minerva, as she herself tells the Eumenides, in Aeschylus. Again, there its a forbidden room, with a golden door and a golden key, in the already-mentioned story of the Third Calender, Agib, the son of King Cassib. This tale! is occasionally quoted in connection with ‘ Blue- beard,’ to which, however, it bears little resemblance, save in the matter of the room and the key. Agib, after being wrecked on a lodestone mountain, is carried by a roc to the palatial abode of forty princesses, with whom he dwells for a year. They then absent themselves for forty days, and give him their keys, with permission to enter every room but one. On the fortieth day his curiosity impels him to pry into that particular chamber, and he there finds a black Pegasus, which he mounts, and which carries him through the air towards Bagdad, deposits him on the terrace of a castle, and knocks out his right eye with a flick of its tail—even as it had done with ten curious young princes encountered by Agib 1 ‘The Arabian Nights,’ Night 66. 2 18 BLUEBEARD earlier in the story. In this case, then, the for- bidden room is scarcely like that of ‘ Bluebeard.’ It suggests rather the one which figures in the tales collected by Bechstein—a room entered by two children, who find there a golden fawn harnessed to a golden carriage, in which they flee. But, as M. Deulin and his followers have pointed out, there are many other forbidden rooms. Some will be found in ‘The King Serpent,’ ‘ The Prince of Tréguier,’ ‘ Koadalan,’ ‘ Bihannic and the Ogre,’ four of Luzel’s ‘Contes Bas-Bretons’; in Miss R. H. Busk’s ‘Black King’ (‘The Folk Lore of Rome’); in Mullenhoff's ‘Vigorous Franck’; in ‘Faithful John,’ one of the ‘Kinder und Haus- marchen’ of the Brothers Grimm; in ‘The Widow’s Son’ and the ‘ Mastermaid,’ of the ‘Norske Folke- Eventyr’ of P. C. Asbjérnsen and J. Moe; in the story of Maria Morewna in Ralston’s ‘ Russian Folk-Tales’; in one of the ‘ Swahili Tales as told by Natives of Zanzibar,’! translated by Dr. E. Steere ; and in the adventures of Saktivega, which figure in the ‘ Katha Sarit Sagara’ (‘ The Ocean of the Rivers of Tales’), compiled in the twelfth century by Samodeva Bhatta of Cashmere. In this story, an epitome of which is given by Mr. Lang, the ‘ for- bidden room’ takes the form of a certain palace terrace and three pavilions, which the hero is pro- hibited from approaching. When he does so, he 1 Not having seen this book, the writer cannot supply the title given by Dr. Steere to the story referred to, but Deulin calls it ‘L’Espnit trompé par le fils du Sultan.’ INTRODUCTION 19 finds in each pavilion a dead maiden—a discovery that is certainly suggestive of ‘ Bluebeard.’ But there is no resemblance in the rest of the tale, which appears to be a confused medley of many incidents. We come now to an Esthonian legend set down by Kreuzwald,! and cited by Gubernatis in his ‘Zoological Mythology.’ Here we find a monster husband who has already killed eleven wives, and who is about to murder the twelfth for having opened a secret room with a golden key (‘ perhaps the moon,’ says Gubernatis!), when a youth, a friend of her childhood, who tends some goslings, comes to deliver her. Here the resemblance to ‘ Bluebeard?’ is striking. It is true that Perrault does not even specify the number of his hero’s wives; he uses the word ‘several,’ but it is none the less generally accepted in both France and England that Bluebeard was married seven times. As F. W. N. Bayley wrote in the rhymed version of the story which he pre- pared for the ‘Comic Nursery Tales ? :— ‘In former times, In the warmest of climes, A gentleman gloried in several crimes : Some terrible deeds he was known to have done, And ’twas hinted that murder was certainly one ; For six of his wives Had been rid of their lives In the darkest of manners under the sun.’ 1 ‘Ehsthnische Marchen,’ aufgezeichnet von Fried. Kreuzwald, aus dem Ehsthnischen ibersetzt von F. Lowe, etc. Halle, 1869, post 8vo. (Tale 20). * One of the early publishing ventures of the late Henry Vizetelly, father of the present writer. 2—2 20 BLUEBEARD That, of course, is only a modern instance, and an English one; but the idea of the seven wives has always prevailed in France, though occasionally the number becomes eight—that is, seven slaughtered wives, and another who is saved by her brothers. It is useless to plunge into the so-called occult science of numbers. For some reason or other the Esthonian view is, or was, that there were twelve wives ; and those who are inclined to do so may trace those twelve Esthonian spouses back through the twelve Wise Masters, the twelve Paladins, the twelve Knights of the Round Table, the twelve Apostles, the twelve Roman Deities, the twelve sons of Jacob, the twelve Signs of the Zodiac, and so forth ; while the partisans of the seven French or English wives may take comfort in thinking of the seven Champions of Christendom, the seven Wise Men of Greece, the seven Wonders of the World, the seven Sleepers, the seven Virtues, the seven Mortal Sins, the seven Sacraments, the seven Seals of the Apocalypse, in addition to the yearly victims of the Minotaur, who, suggestively enough, were likewise seven in number. In this connection mention may be made of the Indian tale of the magician Punchkin, who changes into stone the seven princely husbands of the rajah’s seven daughters, a tale having a counterpart in Norse folklore, for ‘The Giant who had no Heart in his Body’! turns six princes and their wives into stone, whereupon ‘ Boots’ (properly 1 ¢ Popular Tales from the Norse,’ by Sir G. W. Dasent. Edin- burgh, 1859. 8vo. INTRODUCTION 21 ‘Cinderson,’ from ‘Askeladden’), the seventh and surviving brother, undertakes to avenge them, and does so with the help of a raven, a salmon, and a wolf.) In ‘ Punchkin’ the magician’s fate depends on the life of a parrot, which the seventh princess's son tears to pieces; in the story of the giant the latter bursts when an egg, in which his heart 1s hidden, is squeezed to pieces. The petrified victims are restored to life in both of these tales, whose likeness to Perrault’s ‘ Bluebeard’ is, after all, of the vaguest. An incidental suggestion of Perrault’s conte is to be found in the old Cornish tale of ‘Tom and the Giant Blunderbuss,’? in which it is said that the giant's wives were to be counted by the score. What became of them nobody could tell; yet there were always more ready to take their places. Tom was curious on the subject ; and thus, while Blunder- buss was dying of his wounds, he asked him : ‘ Did you kill all your wives?’ ‘No,’ sighed the giant; ‘they died natural.’ One of them, named Jane, survived, however, and Tom ended by marrying her. Italy also supplies two suggestive stories, one, quoted by Mr. Lang, being ‘The Devil Wooer,’® wherein the heroines are limited to three, the ‘ per- 1 In like manner a fox, a redbreast, and a goldfish figure in a story of Comorre, one of the Breton Bluebeards, given fost, p. 47 et seq. 2 ‘Popular Romances of the West of England,’ etc., collected by Robert Hunt, F.R.S. New Edition, Chatto and Windus. London, 1896, 8vo., p. 55 ¢f sey. ‘Italian Popular Tales,’ by T. F. Crane. London, 188s, 8vo. 22 BLUEBEARD fect number’ of Pythagoras, which in the present instance may perhaps be regarded by believers in numerical science as symbolical of the three Fates, the three Furies, or even the Trinity, for, curiously enough, as soon as the three women are resuscitated the Devil hurriedly decamps, daunted by the idea of having to face that number of wives. The other Italian tale is the ‘King of the Assassins,’ quoted by Gubernatis,! who had it from a peasant woman of Fucecchio. Here again the sister-heroines are three in number ; as is also the case in the Highland story of ‘ The Widow and her Daughters,’ published by Campbell,? and in the tale of ‘ Fichters Vogel’ (‘The Feather Bird’), which figures in Grimm's ‘Marchen.’® These Italian, Gaelic, and German stories come from a common source, as an epitome of their in- cidents will show. In ‘ The Feather Bird ’ a sorcerer, who takes the form of a beggar and steals children, carries off the eldest of three pretty sisters, lodges her in a splendid house in a forest, leaves her with the keys, an egg which she is to carry about with her (eggs figure largely and in all sorts of ways in these popular tales), and forbids her to enter a certain room. She, however, infringes the prohibi- tion, and finds in the room a block, an axe, and a basin full of blood, into which, in her fright, she 1 ‘Zoological Mythology,’ vol. ii. 2 ‘ Popular Tales of the West Highlands,’ etc., by John Francis Campbell. New Edition, Paisley and London, 1890-93. 4 vols., 8vo. (No. 41.) 3 No. 46. INTRODUCTION 23 drops the egg, which she is afterwards unable to cleanse. The man on returning home slays her ;} fetches the second sister, who shares her fate ; and, finally, the third, who cunningly leaves the egg in a safe place when she visits the secret room, where she miraculously restores her sisters to life by re- uniting their limbs. Then she makes the man carry them home in sacks, dips herself in a cask of honey and rolls among the feathers of her bed, till she looks like a marvellous bird, and cannot be recognised. In the result—the intervening incidents are immaterial—her brothers, who have been warned by her sisters, come to her rescue, and the sorcerer, who has returned home, is burnt to death in the house, which the brothers and other relations set on fire. All the commentators point to the resemblance of this tale to ‘ Bluebeard,’ and even Abbé Bossard, the champion of the Gilles de Rais theory, admits that there is considerable analogy between the two stories. In the Gaelic version, given by Campbell, there are sundry variations. For instance, the beggar-man becomes a horse, and the house to which he carries the sisters is inside a hill. Then, the part of the denouncing eggs is played by a cat, whose services the two elder sisters neglect. But not so the youngest, who is cleansed of her blood- stains by the grateful animal. Turning to the Italian tale of the ‘ King of the Assassins,’ one there 1 In some English adaptations of the story, the girls, instead of being killed, are simply shut up and starved. 24 BLUEBEARD finds the cat replaced by a young dog, while the coffers in which the sisters of the Highland tale are carried off, when they are restored to life, are changed into jars. There are other incidents also in the Italian story which differentiate it from the others. For instance, the heroine resuscitates a certain French Prince Carlino, one of the Assassin’s victims, and marries him; and the Assassin, after placing a ‘soporific paper’ under the prince's pillow, conceals himself in a golden column, whence he at last goes to the kitchen, to fill a large pan with boiling oil. The heroine, however, shakes the prince until he awakes, and in the end it is the Assassin himself who is burnt alive. In connection with ‘ Bluebeard’ Mr. Lang men- tions yet another tale—one of Kaffir origin'—but. for the time this section of our subject need be carried no further. The question which presents itself is, What materials were used by Perrault when he wrote this particular tale? Was it derived by him from any of those which have been mentioned ? It is allowable to surmise that he borrowed his ‘Riquet with the Tuft’ from the ‘ Nights’ of Stra- parola, even as he took his ‘Griselidis’ from Boccaccio ; while ‘ The Sleeping Beauty’ may well have come from one of the romances of chivalry, 1 ‘Nursery Tales of the Zulus '"—the Kaffir Tale of the Ox— p. 230. In ‘ Household Tales collected in the Counties of York, Lincoln,’ etc., by S. O. Addy, London, 1895, there is one (No. 18) entitled ‘ The Glass Ball,’ which is likewise included in the ‘Bluebeard’ group. We also refer, at the end of our account of Comorre, to two suggestive Breton stories. INTRODUCTION 25 if not direct from the old Scandinavian legend of Brynhild and Sigurd, which is generally regarded as its earliest known form ; though, indeed, almost every nation has some tradition about a sleeper— usually of the male sex—who will some day awaken, in order, as a rule, to perform some mighty deed, as in the case of Arthur, who, when he emerges from his slumber, is to make Britain the head and front of all the kingdoms of the earth. Again; ‘Cinderella’ is a story seemingly known in various countries before Perrault’s time; and although it is altogether unlikely that he ever heard of Sodewa Bai, the Hindu, or of Conkiajgharuna,! the Georgian Cinderella, and may even have had no acquaintance with the German Aschenpiittel, we know that he was a good classical scholar, and as such may well have been familiar, through Strabo or A¢lian, with the story of Rhodope, one of whose sandals was carried away by an eagle, which dropped it at Memphis, near King Psammeticus, who, after marvelling at its beauty and diminutive size, caused strict inquiry to be made for its owner throughout the known world, with the result that Rhodope was discovered, and, although at that time a courtesan, was married to the King. That Rhodope may have served as the original of Perrault’s Cinderella is the more possible as she is described by some authors as having been originally a fellow-slave of Aésop’s, in thé palace of Xanthus of Samos, a circumstance probably known to Perrault, who, in translating 1 Miss M. Wardrop’s ‘ Georgian Folk Tales,’ London, 1895. 26 BLUEBEARD Fezrnus, had familiarized himself with the then generally accepted accounts of Afsop, Phzdrus, and the writings ascribed to them. At all events, one may at least say that Rhodope, the slave, suggests Cinderella, the house-drudge. But if in connection with the latter it is possible to point to a classical prototype, such as may well have been familiar to a writer like Perrault, no such suggestion can be offered with respect to ‘ Blue- beard.’ If we regard the latter as an old-time story, adapted from popular oral tales, it is extraordinary that no earlier mention of it should be found in French literature. Neither ¢vouvéere nor troubadour, neither historian nor moralist, neither chronicler nor poet, before Perrault’s time, had ever referred to that legend of Bluebeard, great as is the position which it now holds in popular lore. No literary man ever wrote that name, Barbe Bleue, or alluded to Anne, ma seur Anne, before Charles Perrault did so. And it is remarkable that, disseminated among the people and kept alive by fireside traditions, the story should have left no trace in the works of Rabelais, Marot, Montaigne, and all the other sixteenth-century writers, who were so partial to popular anecdote. As remarks Abbé Bossard, who is here followed,! it is as if Perrault had given new life to the story by drafting it in a literary form, had brought it into the full radiance of day by transferring it from the sphere of nurses and children to the more en- lightened sphere of literature. 1 Bossard, 4.¢., p. 396. INTRODUCTION 27 Of all Perrault’s tales, ‘ Bluebeard’ is the least marvellous, the most ‘realistic,’ the most ‘up-to- date.’ It is quite grand stécle, as a Frenchman might say. Bluebeard-has town and country houses, coaches, gold and silver plate, and even sofas! His wife is a fit companion for Madame de La Fayette, Madame de Motteville, and Madame de Sévigné ; and the brothers also are essentially of Perrault’s time, for one is a musketeer and the other a dragoon. To Abbé Bossard it seems as if Perrault had stripped the story of everything that appeared to him un- worthy of the don-tom and politeness of society as it flourished under Louis XIV.; and the reverend critic further suggests that Perrault deliberately altered the popular tradition when he made Blue- beard’s wife solicit a short delay in order that she might prepare herself for death by prayer to God In this connection Abbé Bossard quotes a curious version of the tale which has long been current throughout La Vendée, though whether it be of earlier origin than the seventeenth century is un- certain. It is an interesting version, as the reader will perceive by the following extract! :— ‘“ You must die, and at once,” said Bluebeard. ‘Tf I must die,” said the poor woman, ‘at least allow me, I beg you, to go up to my room, where are my wedding-garments; for, as a last favour, I entreat you to let me wear them once again, that I may die bedecked in them.” 1 Bossard, /.¢., pp. 386, 38 . 28 BLUEBEARD ‘« Go,” said Bluebeard; ‘‘ but make haste, for I have no time to wait.” ‘More dead than alive, the poor woman went up to her room. And, forthwith, she said to sister Anne, who happened to be there: ‘“©Go quickly to the top of the tower, and tell me if my brothers are coming.” ‘Sister Anne went up swiftly. ‘Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see nothing coming ?” ‘« Alas! no; I see but the dust of the sunbeams scattering, and the grass a-greening.”? ‘Meantime Bluebeard was shouting to his wife from below : ‘« Come down, wilt thou? Or I shall go up!” ‘« Husband, I have yet to put my pearl necklace round my neck.” ‘“ Make haste! For I have no time to lose,” Bluebeard answered. ‘Then his wife repeated in a still more urgent voice : ‘“ Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see nothing coming ?” ‘“T see but the dust of the sunbeams scattering, and the grass a-greening.” ‘« Wilt thou come down? Or I shall go up there!” shouted Bluebeard. ‘« Husband, I still have to put two golden brace- lets on my arms.” 1 Le soletl qui poudroie et ’ herbe qui verdote.—To green, Zhomson ; greening, Keats. INTRODUCTION 29 ‘**s Make haste !” Bluebeard answered, ‘for I have no time to lose.” ‘*« Anne, sister Anne, dost thou see nothing coming ?” ‘«T only see a cloud of dust which the wind is raising far away across the plain.” ‘«* For the last time, wilt thou come down? Or I shall go up there!” Bluebeard shouted. ‘* Ah! for mercy’s sake,” his wife answered him, “T still have to adjust my wedding head-dress.” And at the same time, knowing naught else to say to him, that she might still tarry there: “ Anne, sister Anne!” she cried in a voice of terror, ‘‘ dost thou see nothing coming ?” ‘ Ah! said sister Anne, “I see two horsemen on the horizon.” ‘But Bluebeard was becoming impatient ; so his wife said to him : ‘“T am coming down, but let me still look for my wedding-ring, which I had forgotten.”! And again calling to sister Anne: “Anne, sister Anne,” she asked, ‘‘do they come this way ?” ‘« Yes,” said sister Anne, “they are coming at a gallop; they are near, and I am signing to them to hasten.” ‘At that moment, at the bottom of the tower, Bluebeard called in so terrible a voice that his wife began to tremble in every limb, for fear lest he should come up to her room. 1 This is not out of the way, for the superstition which prevents so many Englishwomen from ever taking off their wedding-rings is scarcely known in France. 30 BLUEBEARD ‘Tam coming down! I am coming down!” she called to him. ‘For all that, she did not hurry. Only she made a clatter with her shoes several times upon the same stair, to make him think that she was hastening. ‘*©Come down quicker than that!” said Bluebeard, “for I have no time to wait.” ‘When she at last appeared before his eyes, she was pale and trembling, and clad in the same garments as she had worn when she went up; for her fright had not allowed her to change them. ‘“ False one! traitress!” he said to her, ‘‘it is thus that thou didst ever deceive me! But thou shalt gain nothing by having waited.” ‘“* My lord,” she said to him, falling at his knees, ‘‘deign to pardon me!” ‘But he has already raised his cutlass above her head. He is about to lay her low with one stroke, when all at once the door opens with a crash, the brothers of the unfortunate spring towards Blue- beard, and run him through the body with their swords.’ It is impossible to say whether this version of the story, current in La Vendée, is older than Perrault’s. But it is a curious one, as illustrating the popular fancy. It would be easy to find many instances, even nowadays, of people desiring to be buried in their wedding clothes. There have been cases, too, of criminals putting on such garments before appear- ing on the scaffold. Lawrence, Earl Ferrers, did INTRODUCTION 31 so when he was hanged in 1760 for murdering his land-steward. And thus there is a suggestion of quaint realism, such as would appeal to /’émagination populaire, in Bluebeard’s wife entreating a respite in order that ‘before dying she might deck herself in her bridal gown and ornaments.1_ Moreover, one may perhaps picture her hoping that she might soften her cruel husband by appearing before him in the garments she had worn when he wedded her. But either Perrault did not know this version—sup- posing it to be older than his own—or else, as Abbé Bossard suggests, he was resolved to have none of it, being a religious man, one who held that the only proper thing for a woman to do, under such circum- stances, was to pray. It may be added that the peasants of La Vendée are also religiously inclined, yet there is nothing suggestive of any religious sentiment in their version of ‘ Bluebeard.’ It now has to be pointed out that, whatever the folklorists may have to say on the subject, the vox populi throughout France has long assigned to Blue- beard a local habitation and a name. Historians, such as Daru, Michelet and Wallon, and more particularly the native writers of Brittany, Anjou and La Vendée, have long re-echoed the popular assertion that the real Bluebeard was the offspring of that strange wild land of Brittany, the ancient Armorica, which has given to the world, and pre- served for our generation, so many weird and quaint 1 The same occurs in Sébillot’s Breton story of ‘ Barbe Rouge,’ epitomised post, pp. 107, 108, 32 BLUEBEARD legends and traditions. But whilst all French writers, apart from the mythologists, agree in assert- ing that the original Bluebeard was a Breton, there is difference of opinion with respect to the actual man whose career served as the basis of the tradition. Some hold that he was a certain Conomor, Comorus, Comor, Comorre, or Commorre, as the name is variously written, a Breton usurper of the sixth century. One writer, however, has suggested that he was a member of the famous house of Beau- manoir, originally of Maine, but connected with Brittany ; while many urge the claims of the high, powerful, and redoubtable lord, Gilles de Laval, Baron of Rais, Count of Brienne, and Marshal of France, the first specially appointed protector of Joan of Arc, and the companion-in-arms of Riche- mont, Dunois, Ambroise de Loré, Boussac, and many of the other paladins who at last succeeded in driving the English from France, in such wise that nothing of it remained to them, save the one port and stronghold of Calais. Passing, then, from the folklore of the subject as glanced at in previous pages, an attempt will now be made to recount, as far as the writer can ascertain, and as far as is, for various reasons, convenient, the careers of two of the historical personages to whom the dishonour of having been the original Bluebeard is imputed. It is unnecessary to discuss sundry suggestions that Perrault’s hero was a Turk—with a harem, of course ; and it is not proposed to dwell on the life of our much-married Henry VIII., though INTRODUCTION 33 Perrault, while writing his story, may well have remembe *-that libidinous monarch. As for the allegatio _ > ~anoir—a mere allega- tion, uz a ~-naticed ~~. briefly . and tt First, called his n' cons in tl W.2~w 7 the celebratea ~. rf example of the manner tn w. — y 1 See fost, Appendix A. 34 BLUEBEARD should be approached and treated. And after Abbé Bossard, there are Vallet de Viriville, Quicherat, and Wallon, Paul Lacroix and Paul Marchegay, Armand Guéraud, E. Cosneau, and many others of repute, to help one to narrate, in its essential features, the extraordinary career of one of the bravest captains, one of the most splendid prodigals, one of the most superstitious and credulous beings, and one of the very vilest monsters, that ever lived. COMORRE THE CURSED “COMOR AR MILIGUET’ COMORRE THE CURSED ‘COMOR AR MILIGUET’ Civ. A.D. 515-555 I LEGENDS OF COMORRE—BRITTANY IN EARLY TIMES The River Blavet and its Scenery—Quénécan, Broceliande, and Arthurian Legends—Comorre’s Castle of Finans—-The Legend of Comorre and St. Tryphine according to the ‘ Grandes Croniques’ and Brother Albert of Morlaix—St. Gildas destroys the Walls of Finans as Joshua destroyed those of Jericho— Comorre is cursed and takes the Form of a Bisclavaret or Werewolf—The Comorre and Tryphine Legend as a Fairy Tale —Other Memories of Comorre in Brittany—The Legend of the Ferry of Cloar-Carnoét—Comorre as Charon—From Legend to History—Confusion of the Early Annals of Brittany—La Borderie’s Effort to reach the Truth—The Fate of Ancient Armorica—Hun, Alan and Saxon—Enmigrations from Britain— Armorica becomes Brittany—Early Breton Rulers contemporary with Comorre—Gradlon the Great and the Submerged City of Ys—Werok of the Vannetais—Riwal of Domnonia—Withur of Leon. Somes five-and-thirty years ago one of the finest trout-streams in France was the now partially canalized Blavet, which, taking its source near the squalid Breton hamlet of Querien—in a wild district of the department of Les Cétes-du- Nord, a 38 BLUEBEARD region all up-hill and down-dale, {with stretches of marshland intervening between {lofty hills— flows southward through the adjacent department of Le Morbihan, and, uniting with the Scorff, meets the sea just below Lorient. Now and again the Blavet, in its upper reaches, is pent between rocky hills; but at times come furrowed slopes planted with buckwheat and colza, with intervening patches of brushwood, interspersed with clumps of beeches, or fringed with pines. Then the slopes retreat, offering a wider bed to the river, which pursues its course between verdant pasture-lands, where poplars and pollard willows dot either margin. Behind the apple-trees, clustering on some neigh- bouring hill, the thatch roof of a homestead may be occasionally descried; but presently appear shady woods, in which one espies quaint gray rocks, now overgrown with moss or stonecrop, and now decked round about with eglantine or holly. The rushes bend to the breeze beside the deep blue water, in which a sunbeam dances; small tributary rivulets gleam awhile amid fern, heather, and trailing peri- winkles, and then leap onward in miniature cascades, while, in the surrounding thickets, thrush and black- bird pipe right joyously. Beyond Gouarec, before the Blavet quits Les Cétes-du-Nord, it skirts first the woods of L’Abbaye and Le Fao, and then the forest of Quénécan, which extends over some seven or eight thousand acres of Le Morbihan. Here the river is for a time shut in COMORRE THE CURSED 39 by steep gray heights intersected by narrow gorges; but a glimpse is obtained of the ruined abbey of Bon-Repos, founded by one of the Rohans, and devastated during the great Revolution ; and then, never heeding the huge overhanging rocks which for centuries have been threatening to fall and im- pede its progress, the river turns into the forest, which is a remnant of that great primeval, central forest of Brittany, still existent in early historical times. Fragments of it are yet found here and there ; one of them, towards Paimpont, even now retaining among the peasantry the ancient name immortalized by imperishable romance—that name of Brekilien, or Broceliande, which recalls Arthur, Merlin, Viviane, and even the fierce Esplandian, that son of Amadis and Oriana whom the lioness suckled. In the remnant of the old central forest existing near Landerneau you will be shown the ruins of the abbey built on the site of the castle of Joyeuse-Guarde which Arthur gave to Lancelot ; in the fragment near Paimpont you may see Merlin’s magic fountain of Baranton, as well as the hawthorn bushes in which he was spellbound by the artful Viviane ; while on a hill towards St. Méen is the site of the palace of Gaél, where Arthur himself dwelt (so you will perhaps be told) after his passing from Britain into Brittany. Thus, on learning that Quénécan, also, is a remaining portion of the vast woodland associated with the hero-king, who is to return one day to Britain, ‘ full twice as fair, to rule ; % 40 4 BLUEBEARD over his people,’ you may well expect to find some- thing Arthurian there also. The forest is dark, weird, impressive. One of its black gorges is called the Stang-en-Ihuern, or Valley of Hell; there are huge and fantastic rocks among the clumps of oak-trees, and a very large dolmen called ‘ the house of the small people’ is to be found near the hamlet of Gouvello, in such wise that you feel yourself in a spot which the Druids must have chosen for their meditations and their mysterious rites. And fairyland also comes to mind. This is a fit home for the Korriganets, those spirits of native princesses who, having refused to embrace Christi- anity when it was first preached in Armorica, in- curred, it is said, the Divine displeasure, and were set the endless task of creating the springs and fountains which were to supply the water of baptism and health to true believers. And here also may well abide the Poulpiquets, those black, hideous, hairy dwarfs who built the dolmens, and whom every peasant in the old days vowed that he had seen on at least one occasion—most frequently after a drink- ing bout. Thus, some Breton Oberon may per- chance still hold his court in yonder glade, among the dark trees and the strange rocks which occasion- ally affect the aspect of grim giants or ogres, suggest- ing, indeed, that Quénécan may be the very forest where ‘ Petit Poucet’ and his tribe of brothers were purposely ‘lost.’ And as nothing Arthurian is to be discovered in this particular part of old Brekilien, may one not content oneself with some relic or ‘WLISVO S,LNVID HHL WO SNYNIA THLSYD COMORRE THE CURSED 41 suggestion of fairyland? The suggestion is supplied by the forest itself; the relic is close at hand, for yonder, old peasants will assert, is all that remains of Bluebeard’s famous castle. At the point, indeed, where the Blavet changes its eastern for a southern course, nigh to the lock of Guer- lédan, it washes the base of a conspicuous gray, rocky promontory, the summit of which, showing traces of a stone fortification, is bright with purple heather, offering a lively contrast to the green foliage of the trees on the margin of the stream. The river skirts this promontory on three sides, which rise almost perpendicularly from the water to a height varying from one to two hundred feet. It would be almost impossible to scale those cliffs, and even from the land side the summit is difficult of access. For long ages this towering promontory has been known as Castel Finans; and, according to tradition, it was here, in the sixth century, that Bluebeard had his stronghold, and murdered his hapless wives. Some forty years ago, whatever may be the case nowadays, the peasants of Cléguérec, Ste. Brigitte, Séglien, Lescouet, St. Aignan, and all the other villages and hamlets in or around the forest, signed themselves at the mention of the miscreant’s dreaded name, for was he not ‘Comor ar Miliguet,’ ‘Comorre the Cursed,’ one on whom the saints of Brittany had called down the judgment of Provi- dence ; and being thereby denied access both to pur- gatory and to heaven, did he not roam Quénécan at night in the guise of a wolf, seeking whom he might 42 BLUEBEARD devour? Imagination supplied most of the details of his career; but of the facts of his last great crime and the miracle which followed it there was no doubt whatever. The legend has been briefly recorded by two of the older Breton historians ;! and in rather more detail, most of which is imaginative embroidery, by Brother Albert Le Grand, a Dominican of Morlaix, who, in 1636, published a quaint work on the ‘ Life, Deeds, Death, and Miracles of the Saints of Armorican Brittany.’? ‘Cémor, a Breton King of the sixth century,’ says Alain Bouchard, ‘had already put several wives to death, and Guérok, Count of Vannes, refused him his daughter Triphine. Vanquished at last by the King’s pressing solicitations, he ended by granting her to him, on the promise, which at the request of King Comorus M. [Messire] St. Gildas made to him, that she should be well treated, and restored to him, healthy and whole, when he should demand her of him.’® Brother Albert, on his side, asserts that Comorre had already had four wives, all of whom had perished, and that, being known for his cruelty 1 Alain Bouchard, in his ‘Grandes Croniques,’ Nantes, 1531, folio, p. 52; and Dom Lobineau, in his ‘ Histoire de Bretagne,’ 1707, folio, p. 75. 2 His full name was Albert Le Grand de Kerigouval, but he is generally catalogued as Le Grand or Legrand. Three editions of his book are known to exist: (1) ‘La Vie, Gestes, Mort et Miracles des Saints de la Brétagne-Armorique,’ par le Frere Albert Le Grand, de Morlaix, Dominicain ; Nantes, 1636 ; (2) ‘ La Vie,’ etc., Rennes, 1680; (3) ‘ Les Vies,’ etc., Brest, 1837. > Bouchard, /.¢., p. 52. COMORRE THE CURSED 43 and his vices, he resorted to stratagem in order to obtain the hand of Tryphine. Having attracted Gildas the Wise, Abbot of Rhuys, to his court, whither the holy man repaired in the hope of con- verting ‘that ravenous wolf into a meek lamb,’ he prevailed on him to propose a durable peace and alliance to the Count of Vannes, on condition that the latter would give him the hand of his daughter, whom he promised to treat with all kindness, honour, and affection. The good Abbot, who desired above all things to put an end to disastrous wars, pleaded the cause of Comorre to the Count and his daughter so successfully, that in spite of their repugnance they accepted Comorre’s proposals, on the express condition, however, that if he should some day lose his affection for Tryphine he was to send her back to her father without ill-treatment. The marriage took place ; but some time afterwards Tryphine discovered that her husband invariably killed his wives as soon as he found them to be in a certain condition; and she was so terrified thereat (she herself being enceznte) that she resolved to flee, According to one legendary account, she had a warming vision of the dead wives; according to another, she read her husband’s fell purpose in his glances. - At all events, early one morning, mounted on her Aaguenée (an ambling nag), and attended, it would seem, by a few servants, she fled from her home. But Comorre, discovering her absence, followed in hot pursuit, and Tryphine, perceiving his approach, dismounted, and sought a retreat in a 44 BLUEBEARD thicket, where her husband discovered her. ‘ Then,’ says Brother Albert, ‘the poor lady flung herself upon her knees before him, her hands raised to heaven, and her cheeks bathed in tears; and she implored his mercy ; but the cruel monster, unmoved by her weeping, seizes her by the hair, deals her a great sword-cut on the neck, and lops her head from off her shoulders.’ While the murderer quietly rode back to his eyrie overlooking the Blavet, the servants, who had accompanied Tryphine without daring to defend her, hastened to her father’s home. The Count of Vannes set out to succour his daughter, but found her dead ; and in his desolation, after he had removed her body to Vannes, where it was placed on a funeral couch in the great hall of the castle, he remembered that he had only given Tryphine to Comorre at the request of Gildas, who had promised that she should be restored to him ‘healthy and whole’ if ever he should require it. So he sent for the holy man, and, showing him the body of Tryphine, he asked him if that was how it had been agreed he should receive his cherished daughter, the child of his heart, from her husband. The reproach filled Gildas with emotion ; he knelt beside the decapitated body, and with all the people present he prayed unto Him who restored Lazarus, even four days after his death, to Martha and her sister Mary. The prayer ended, he approached the body, and, taking the head, placed it on the neck; and then, speaking to the defunct, he said to her aloud : COMORRE THE CURSED 45 ‘Tryphine, in the name of Almighty God, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I command thee to rise upon thy feet’ (sz doxt) ‘and tell me where thou hast been.’! The lady rose, and, before all the assembled people, she said that the angels had been preparing to place her in Paradise, among the saints, when the words of St. Gildas had called her soul back to earth. But Comorre was not to go unpunished. The Abbot of Rhuys, we are told, betook himself to the monster's castle of Finans, where the gates were closed at his approach. And, having vainly de- manded admittance, the holy man took up a handful of dust and flung it against the walls, which, like those of Jericho at the sound of the trumpets of Joshua, immediately crumbled to pieces, at the same time seriously injuring Comorre, who was able, however, to flee to another castle which he pos- sessed—one near Pédernec, some six miles from Guingamp, famous for its pilgrimages. Then, as he still continued his career of crime, undaunted by the warning of heaven, thirty Bishops of Brittany assembled in solemn council on the adjacent height of the Menez-Bré, on which Guin Clan, the pro- phatic bard,? is said to have lived, and which is now crowned by a chapel dedicated to St. Hervé, whither people afflicted with neuralgia resort in 1 Albert Le Grand, /.c. Alain Bouchard says: ‘The saint betook himself to the body, and by his prayers and by his tears he obtained from heaven the resuscitation of Sainte Triphine.’ 2 According to some theories Guingamp derives its name from that semi-mythical personage ; but the more probable etymology is Gwen-camp, white field. af BLUEBEARD peigrumape. Se Herve virmally presaded over the coaciare of Bishops convened to puntsh Comorre, who was solemnly anathemanzed br them. And immmeciateiy afterwards he was seized—says the agenGary account—with a ternble malady, from which be died. his soul bemg borne away in a stream of blood. Nevertheless. m part. perhaps, because St. Herve is the patron of shepherds and the guardian of sheepfolds against the attacks of wolves, ! there 1s a tradiuon that Comorre sull wanders at mght round the Menez-Bre. or m the giades of Quénécan, in the form of a great wolf, who can only be cvercome by a stab with a knife m the centre of the forehead. The widespread werewolf super- stinon, which only the steadiast march of education can dispel, was at one ume shared by all the peasantry of Le Morbihan, Les Cétes-du-Nord, and Finistere ; and it 1s not surprising that those dwell- ing in the vicinity of spots associated with the memory of Comorre should have pectured him in the guise of a étsc/averet. as the werewolf, or loxup gerom, is generally called in Bnttany. We have the assurance* that less than half a 1 One of the legends of St. Hervé current in Morbshan 1s to the effect that a wolf, having devoured an ass which the samt employed in plooghing his land, was candemned by him to take the place of the animal he had eaten, and became thoroughly domesticated, sharing at night the same pen as the saint's sheep, and never molesting them. For long centunes lambs were the usual offer- ings of the Breton peasantry at the varvous shrines of St. Hervé scattered through their province. 2 «Perinages de Bretagne (Norbihan),” by Hippolyte Violeau, second edition ; Paris, 1559, p. 4o COMORRE THE CURSED 47 century ago the murderer of Tryphine was often recalled by the Morbiban peasantry, who designated him now by the name of Comorre, now by that of Finans, from the castle on the Blavet where his wives were said to have been slain. Moreover, in addition to what may be called, perhaps, Albert Le Grand’s semi-official version of the legend of the tyrant and St. Tryphine, others existed—oral ver- sions, based on the same facts, but differing in points of detail, according to the vagaries of the popular fancy. A quaint example of how an old Church legend becomes partially transformed into a modern fairy tale is supplied by one adaptation of this Comorre and Tryphine story, which was current in the neighbourhood of Vannes about 1860-63.! So well, indeed, does this version illustrate the changes wrought in ancient tales by time and the fancy of successive narrators, that one may give it here, slightly abbreviating it in parts, in order to avoid repetition. ‘Count Guerech of Vannes,’ we are told, ‘was a wise prince, and in proof thereof had chosen for his counsellor St. Gildas, Abbot of Rhuys, the most sensible man of his time. It was by the advice of that holy Abbot that Guerech gave the hand of his daughter, the lovely Tryphine, to the fierce Comorre,? Count of Tréguier, and the Bluebeard of the age. 1 ‘Légendes Bretonnes (Souvenirs du Morbihan),’ by Count d’Amezeuil (C. P. Aclocque). Paris, 1863, post 8vo., p. 117 ef seq. 2 ‘Conamor’ in the work cited, but we prefer to adhere to the modern spelling which we have hitherto followed. 48 BLUEBEARD Tryphine, who had heard of the blackness of Comorre’s soul—he was accused of having already killed four wives—long refused him her hand; and he, infuriated thereby, raised a powerful army, and sent word to Guerech that if he did not deliver his daughter to him, he would tear her from his arms by force. Guerech was brave, but had few soldiers, so he sent for St. Gildas, and requested his advice. ‘“Count,” said the saint, “ your daughter must marry Comorre.” ‘« But what if he should kill her ?” asked Guerech. ‘“*God will provide for it,” replied St. Gildas. ‘And, having spoken those fine words, he sought the maid, and prevailed upon her to marry the Count of Tréguier. ‘ He, full of love, carried her to his fine castle of Léon, the most splendid of the region, and gave many entertainments and tourneys, in which he him- self took part in honour of his lady. Tryphine, at first astonished by his gallantry, became used to it, and at last sent word to her father that her husband was better than she had been told, and that she had even begun to love him slightly. But all at once an unforeseen occurrence changed her joy into mourn- ing. Festivities of all sorts followed one another at the castle, which was never empty, for fresh visitors arrived there every day. Among them was Comorre’s cousin, the Count of Nantes, who came with a mag- nificent retinue of lords and ladies. One of the last was conspicuous for the brilliancy of her beauty ; COMORRE THE CURSED 49 her name was Oltrogotha,! and her father was the Marquis of Assérac. ‘But she was a perfidious, cunning, evil-minded woman, whose soul was as hideous as her face was beautiful. She became jealous of Tryphine’s happi- ness, and resolved to destroy it. She allowed Count Comorre to court her ; and to inflame him the more, she one day let herself fall from her horse whilst hunting in his company, in such wise as to show him how shapely were her ankles. Count Comorre returned home afire with passion; and that very evening he began to illtreat Tryphine. The poor lady wept all night, and at daybreak, with her eyes still full of tears, she left the castle, and wandered through the neighbouring forest, in order that she might dream and sigh at her ease. ‘She had been walking along for about a quarter of an hour, when she met Master Fox in the com- pany of his wife. And at the sight of the smiling pair she envied their happiness, and exclaimed : ‘How happy are the animals! They live in quietude, and love one another. And none come to interfere with their happiness.” ‘«‘That is because we are sensible,” said the Fox on hearing Tryphine’s words. ‘« Am I not sensible?” Tryphine asked. ‘“You are a good girl (donne jtlle),” replied the Fox, ‘‘but your husband is a wicked rascal, and for 1 A variant of Ultragotha, the name of King Childebert’s wife, who was associated with the legends of St. Samson, and indirectly connected with Comorre’s real career. See fost, pp. 96, 97. 4 50 BLUEBEARD that reason I will give you some advice. Flee from him at once, for otherwise you will perish, for he is in love with Oltrogotha, and longs to see you dead.” ‘“ Alas! then I am lost,” cried Tryphine, “for how can I hope to escape him!" ‘<< Be not alarmed,” said the Fox ; “‘ you have more than once allowed me to carry off a cockerel or a pullet for my dinner, so I wish to save you.” And, tearing three bristles from his breast, he added: ‘Take these ; they are a talisman, and will preserve you from all danger.” ‘« But what am I to do?” ‘“ Hope and wait. Simply call on St. Gildas when any great danger threatens you, and you will then be saved. .. . And now farewell, Tryphine ; be brave!” ‘Then the Fox and his spouse, after bowing most politely, went their way. ‘The Countess did not know what to do with the three bristles, but she at last placed them in her alms-bag, and sighed: “I fear that the Fox was making fun of me. Why is it that everybody seeks to distress me?” ‘«“ There is only Comorre who wishes you ill, Tryphine, my dear,” said a voice near her. ‘The poor lady looked around, and could only see a pretty Redbreast chirping on a bush. ‘Who spoke to me?” she asked. ‘“T, the Redbreast, for I love you, Tryphine, because you threw me bread-crumbs when I was COMORRE THE CURSED I hungry, and let me warm myself at your hearth when I was cold.” ‘You are so charming, my pretty little Red- breast! Who would not have done as I did!” ‘*T love you, Tryphine, and wish to save you,” replied the bird. ‘Your husband, Comorre, has set assassins to watch for you and kill you. Take these three feathers, call on St. Gildas, and you will be saved.” ‘Then the Redbreast, resuming his song, flew away. ‘The Countess, who felt more and more astonished, put the three feathers with the three bristles, and went on until she reached a splendid pond, where a multitude of gold and silver fish were playing at hide- and-seek. ‘« Ah!” she said again, “how happy you are, little goldfish, for none thinks of tormenting you. You always live and die in peace!” ‘Her words were heard by a beautiful Fish, with glittering scales, who protruded his pointed head out of the water, and at the sight of her face, wet with tears, inquired: ‘Why, what is the matter, Tryphine ?” ‘“ Dear little Fish,” said she, ‘‘you do not know what the Fox and the Redbreast have told me.” ‘“ Alas! they have told you no doubt of some fresh deed of cruelty done by Comorre, your hus- band,” said the Fish. ‘“ You are right; he wants to murder me.” ‘“ Murder you!” cried the little Fish, turning a 4—2 52 BLUEBEARD somersault in the water, such was his amazement. ‘*You! who gave us such fine wheaten cakes! Oh! that shall not be! Take these three scales, call on St. Gildas, and your enemies will at once be put to flight.” ‘Tryphine took the three scales, which were of a beautiful golden red, and placed them with the bristles and the feathers. Then, as night was coming on, she retraced her steps to the castle. The guests were dancing in the great hall without giving a thought to her; for Oltrogotha occupied her place beside her husband. At the sight of her rival, anger and jealousy took possession of Try- phine, and wrung her soul. She sought a means of avenging herself on that perfidious creature, as well as on her unfaithful husband. In her fury her hand pressed the catch of her alms-bag, which opened unknown to her; and as she saw her rival smiling at her spitefully, she suddenly exclaimed: ‘“ Ah! great St. Gildas, deliver me from that woman !” ‘Scarcely had she spoken than the three scales of the Goldfish sprang out of her alms-bag, and fastened themselves upon Oltrogotha, who was instantly changed into a hideous sturgeon, which the scullions seized in astonishment, and carried away to the kitchen. ‘But when Comorre beheld that transformation, his rage was beyond description, for his heart was burning to cinders with love for the infamous Oltrogotha, and he was convinced that this change in her was the work of Tryphine. COMORRE THE CURSED 53 ‘*¢Guards!” he cried in a terrible voice, ‘‘ seize that woman, and let her be burnt as a sorceress !” ‘“* Help me, St. Gildas!” she murmured, while she trembled from head to foot. ‘Then the feathers flew from her alms-bag, and the guards were changed into birds, who began to fly and chirrup under the gilded ceiling of the great hall. ‘This time Comorre’s anger knew no bounds ; he drew his great sabre, and with one slash he cut off the head of the beautiful Tryphine. But oh! what a miracle! Scarcely had the head touched the floor when the eyes looked at him again, and the lips, although they were already turning blue, murmured the words : “ St. Gildas, help me!” ‘At this a frightful commotion shook the castle, a horrible rending resounded amidst the shrieks of the guests and the servants. Then no other sound was heard save the weeping of the wind among the foliage. The castle was destroyed, a great forest had taken its place,! and animals of the most various kinds ran, terror-stricken, hither and thither. ‘Tryphine, who had remained erect despite the awful blow dealt her by her cruel husband, found herself on a spot where four roads met, with her head in her hands, after the fashion of St. Denis; and before her stood St. Gildas and her father. The latter wept at the sight of his dear daughter in such a pitiable condition. 1 This is a reminiscence of the Castel Finans legend. See P. 45. 54 BLUEBEARD ‘« Count!” cried the Saint, [the fairy-tale at this point becomes a legend again] “dry your tears. It is not fit that you should weep like an old woman. God is great, and, in His justice, He knows how to punish crime, and also how to reward virtue.” ‘Thus having spoken, the Saint touched the head with his abbatial crozier and added: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, head, take thy place again; and thou, Tryphine, appear before us more beautiful than ever.” ‘The head obediently took its place between the shoulders, and Tryphine appeared to them full of dazzling grace and beauty. ‘Then all three fell upon their knees, and with a canticle of gratitude thanked God for His exceeding goodness. And afterwards they took the road to Vannes, where St. Gildas quitted his friends to repair again to his beautiful abbey of Rhuys. Guerech and Tryphine lived long years in restfulness and peace, and when they died they both found places in heaven by the side of the Almighty.’ Le Morbihan is not the only part of Brittany in which traditions of Comorre and his crimes have lingered.1 The present writer well remembers having heard of him some thirty years ago in the vicinity of Guingamp, near the spot where he was cursed. Again, his memory abides at Carhaix, where, 1 In Le Morbihan itself there is a spot, north-west of Camors, where some vestiges of a castle called the Porh-houét-er-Saleu (The Court of the Wood of the Halls) are said to be the remains of one of Comorre’s residences. COMORRE THE CURSED 55 as will presently be shown, he first ruled. There are traditions of him also both in the neighbourhood of Goueznou (Finistére), where he is said to have had a castle, and at Cloar-Carnoét in the same department, where, in 1879, an English writer! found the remains of another castle ascribed to him. with a belief that the banks of the river Laita were haunted by his dead wives, whose cries and gestures troubled the reason of those who heard them. This is mentioned in connection with a curious legend of a young man, whose betrothed is carried to the shores of the departed by a sorcerer called Miliguet, that is ‘The Cursed ’—a name so widely given to Comorre that one need not hesitate to identify the sorcerer with the so-called Breton Bluebeard. He appears in the Carnoét legend in the guise of a mysterious ferryman, who plies for hire at a certain haunted part of the Laita, and ‘loses many souls.’ Loik Guern and Maharit, two Breton lovers, are returning home one evening, when, on approach- ing the ferry, Loik momentarily quits his betrothed, whereupon she is urged by the ferryman to get into his boat. She does so, and, without waiting for Guern, the old, wild-looking man pushes off from the bank. But the boat, instead of going towards the opposite shore, swings round, and shoots rapidly down the river. Maharit is at first 1 Mrs. Macquoid, ‘ Pictures and Legends from Normandy and Brittany.’ London (Chatto and Windus), 1879, p. 18 ef seg. The Carnoét here mentioned should not be confounded with the larger place of the same name in Les Cétes-du-Nord. 56 BLUEBEARD astonished, then dismayed; but the ferryman pays no heed to her, and, carried along by the current, the boat descends the river with increasing swift- ness. ‘Maharit bent towards the shore. ‘ Loik, Loik!” she cried. The words died away on her lips, for she saw shadowy forms standing on the gloomy banks; they stretched their arms towards her with menacing gestures, and she drew back shuddering. She knew these were the spirits of the murdered wives of Comorre. Then Maharit uttered a loud cry, and fell lifeless in the bottom of the boat.”! Loik Guern, on finding that his betrothed has disappeared, seeks her vainly in all the neighbour- ing villages and the surrounding forest. Three days later, however, while he is seated in despair on the river-bank, he is told by an old beggar-woman, who seems to him to have sprung out of the ground, that if he has lost Maharit it is because she had forgotten to make the sign of the Cross on getting into the boat, and had spoken and looked behind her, thereby giving the cruel ferryman power over her, in such wise that he has carried her to the shores of the departed. Then, after the old woman has pleaded hunger, and Loik has given her a loaf of black bread, she tells him what he has to do to recover his betrothed. He must first cut a branch of holly at midnight in Carnoét forest, near the Stag’s Leap, a spot haunted by the Korrigans. This branch must be steeped in holy water at the 1 Macquoid, /¢., p. 2t. COMORRE THE CURSED 57 chapel of St. Leger; and, at dusk, Guern must go with it to the ferry. There he is to call the ferry- man, and, when he has got into the boat, he is to look neither around nor behind him, ‘for every night the banks of the river are haunted by the dead wives of Comorre, and their cries and gestures will trouble his reason.’ But he will neither see nor hear them unless he looks about or behind him. He must tell his beads diligently ; and, above all, he must make the sign of the Cross reverently. And when he has come to the thirty-third bead of his rosary, he must raise the blessed holly branch, and show it to the ferryman, and then, in the name of Christ, command him to take him ving to the shores of the dead. Miliguet will tremble at the sight of the branch, lose all his power, and obey the behests of Guern. When the latter asks the old woman what will be the end of it, she answers that she can see no farther, that Guern must do as she has bidden him, and wait in hope for the end. Then she disappears as suddenly as she had come. At midnight the young man cuts a branch of holly at the appointed spot, dips it in the holy- water stoup at the chapel, and entreats the aid of St. Leger. At dusk on the following evening, having hidden the holly branch under his jacket, he betakes himself to the ferry and calls the man. Miliguet appears, and Guern, entering his boat without a word, begins to tell his beads silently but fervently. But by the time the boat has reached 58 BLUEBEARD the middle of the stream he is so overcome by the remembrance of his lost Maharit that he pauses in his prayers, and, forgetting the old woman's caution, looks behind him. Then his beads slip from his trembling hands into the water, where- upon the cries of Comorre’s wives ring out, and the boat, caught by the current, swings round and dashes down the river. ‘Guern roused himself, and remembered the holly- branch ; he drew it forth and waved it before the silent ferryman. ‘‘Conduct me to the shores of the departed,” he said ; ‘take me to my betrothed !” But in his agitation he forgot to say the word “living.” The boatman took no heed: the boat drove on. Then, with an impulse over which he had no control, Guern, in wild despair, struck the ferryman with the consecrated branch. The strange man uttered a terrible cry, threw down his oars, and plunged into the dark water. Still the boat drove madly on—on—on! Guern could never tell how long—till it struck with awful violence against a rock, and was dashed to pieces beneath a gnarled oak that bent over the river. ‘For years afterwards, at all the Pardons of Cloar, of St. Leger, and their neighbourhood, was to be seen a pale, distracted-looking man, who ran hither and thither among the crowd. He cried out pite- ously, while tears ran down his furrowed cheeks, “Ah! my friends; ah, for the love of God and the saints, take me to the shores of the dead!” The young people used to look at him with surprise and COMORRE THE CURSED 59 pity, but the older folk only shook their heads, and said; “It is the poor madman of the ferry; it is Loik Guern.’’’! Here, then, assuming Comorre and Miliguet to be the same, and there can be no doubt in the matter, we find the Breton ‘ Bluebeard’ transformed after death into a kind of Charon, who makes it his business to hurry folk, and particularly young maids (when, as we are told, they forget to make the sign of the Cross on entering his boat), to some Stygian shore, where their souls are for ever lost. But the reader will naturally inquire what truth, if any, lies beneath all such stories. Did such per- sonages as Comorre and Tryphine really live, or are they mere myths, personifications, for instance, of evil and good, darkness and light? For an answer to that question one must go to history, and there, indeed, they will both be found, though, in many respects, their lives and their fates were not such as the legends tell us. It is never an easy task to disentangle the historical facts of far-off centuries from the mass of romance and superstitious lore that enwraps them. Moreover, Brittany is one of the lands whose history in early Christian times is most shrouded in romance, superstition and false- hood. On approaching the subject one is imme- diately confronted by Arthurian heroes and their 1 Macquoid, /.¢., p. 27. Mrs. Macquoid had the legend, which she has given in perhaps too polished a form for some of the folk- lorists of nowadays, from an old woman, one of the professed story-tellers of Brittany, who are akin to the well-known droll- tellers of Cornwall. 60 BLUEBEARD mighty deeds, Kings who never reigned, scores, if nat hundreds, of saints accomplishing miracles which caat all those of Holy Writ far into the shade. And to perplex one the more, come spurious charters and deeds, often forged br abbeys wo give them a proper tice to lands they had approprsated ; whilst early chroniclers and historians travesty facts, now tw blackoa the reputanan of some prince who was not au@iviontly subservient or generous 2 the Church, ROW WwW oahance anme cause wath which they sym- pathive, Row to decry anather whach they hold m detentation, -And after Beiase hes become a pro- Véarve of Pragoe and & ARKGNOS 3p SReeam certam PRAT, Rares qnnrrweraaes arise as 2p whether & was Maquernad ap Rat be Meron Bamps. Freach WEAN awawhAG thet Xk eas sp conquered, and Ren akex Fnntninigg whe creme. omch sade Deyiag FabohoadS genes NRt STTNRCNOS mater AORN 2 lath Rags af The Ntiher. apd dees Pratiag NAAR WATE Dante AMAR We antrewes wrets oresuieer Sor the SRA A GAP eReant Shas Jor tnrse Tegel wate beast a Reifeam ore asset m 3B2h! ge wanaas ie QQ? and ger ynme a Rep? and aAAMa gar awe Ube the net 2 ssxenal QMAAN de gan irk thet gt mae oo winch the UR, Retgene Cee Pay, 2d ocala Sage. Paen an Bea ' BReenig: gta Tragatan Rene, Sate. Weis eam 2p OR. Fipei, SNA wba 7 ERT Reerqrne ma cits Svehe- % Titgeer dk & RAWetR Rake ote Ba oane Ree COMORRE THE CURSED 61 authors of these histories have treated their subject. For instance, Count Daru, the first, believes in Conan Meriadec and all the spurious Kings of Brittany chronicled by Geoffrey of Monmouth ; and, incidentally, he confounds our Comorre (whom he speaks of as the personage ‘on whom the roman- cvers have conferred a frightful immortality, under the name of Bluebeard”!) with a certain Canao, otherwise Conober, to whom reference will be made hereafter. Next, M. de Courson, while making a serious effort to arrive at the truth, and showing that the so-called kingdom of Brittany was in reality ruled by a number of chieftains, falls into numerous errors, again confusing one personage with another, after the fashion of Count Daru, and citing charters and deeds which are now regarded as apocryphal. Finally comes M. de la Borderie, with his monu- mental ‘ History of Brittany,’ the outcome of long years of patient study, in which he revises many views expressed by him in earlier works, corrects his predecessors, and, whilst availing himself of anecdote and legend to relieve the monotony of discussion and _ strict historical narrative, strives, without prejudice, to picture for us the ancient Brittany, such as it really was. Thus our version of the real Comorre’s career will be based in a large measure on his researches. But before turning to Comorre again it is as well 1 It will be noticed that Daru’s book was published in 1826. Something will be said on the subject of the above quotation when we discuss the story of Comorre. 62 BLUEBEARD to explain. the state of Brittany at the time he lived ; and to do so one must go back to a somewhat earlier time. The Bretons, so it is nowadays generally held, are only in a small degree the descendants of the Armoricans of the Roman era, though they belong to a kindred race. They descend principally from the Britons who dwelt in England. The Armoricans, at the collapse of the Roman Empire in Gaul, were decimated by the incursions of Hun, Alan, and Saxon. Aetius, for reasons on which the historians are not agreed, virtually assigned Armorica to the Alans, and whatever be the legends about the intervention of St.Germain of Auxerre, they traversed at least some part of it, which they ravaged with fire and sword. Abundant relics of Roman times have been discovered (often chancewise) in Brittany— methodical excavation would bring to light many more ; and in almost every spot where tokens of Roman or Gallo-Roman civilization have been dis- interred, traces of fire and destructive fury have been found. The wonderful vitrified ‘camp of Peran’ is perhaps the most remarkable example of all; but there are many others, all pointing to conflagra- tion, rapine, and massacre. Some of the Armoricans saved themselves by withdrawing into their great central forest, but those along the coasts more often fell victims to the Saxons, who swept down on the shores of Armorica—even as they swept down on those of Britain—and devastated every spot where they landed. La Borderie mentions Saxon descents in or about the years 351, 353, 358, 368, and 370. COMORRE THE CURSED 63 It was on the shores of the peninsula, and on the inland borders of Armorica, that Gallo-Roman civilization flourished. Roman roads _ certainly traversed the country, but there were no consider- able cities or townships! in the central part, which was chiefly wood and mountain. Thus it was only occasionally that the Saxons found it worth their while to go any great distance inland. They de- stroyed Armorica chiefly by ravaging its coasts. A few little colonies of theirs are known to have existed, but it would not seem that they ever made any serious attempt to establish themselves in the ‘country. The island of Britain proved more attrac- tive to them, and Armorica was left little better than a waste, whither the Britons, pressed by Pict, Saxon, and Angle, betook themselves for refuge. The exodus from Britain, says La Borderie, began soon after the first Saxon victories there, probably about 460. Breton records point to immigrations on a large scale in or about 468, 470, 510, 513-15 ; and, indeed, these immigrations extended over a period of 150 years. Some of the emigrant Britons even entered Gaul, notably those led by ‘ Riothamus’ (or ‘Riothime,’ as French writers call him), who brought 12,000 men to fight the Visigoths in Berry, but who did not sail expressly from Britain in order to help the expiring Roman dominion, as historians formerly contended, for he was already established 1 Pontivy, for instance, dates from the seventh, and Loudéac from the tenth century. Many other examples might be cited in support of this view. 64 BLUEBEARD on the Loire when his services were solicited. He is regarded by various French writers as having been in all probability the first of the British chiefs to emigrate in consequence of the condition of Britain. Without entering into the migrations of prehistoric times, one may admit that Britons had passed in small numbers from one country to the other before the Saxons appeared upon the scene; but from that time the emigrant Britons became so numerous, and the Armoricans were so few, that the latter, even if minded to do so, could offer no resistance to the continuous immigration. The new- comers changed both the name and the language of the country, and often gave to the ruined Gallo- Roman cities, which they raised again under a new guise, and to the various other townships which they founded, names that recalled those of places where they had dwelt in their native island. American, Australian, and other colonists have frequently acted in a similar manner in our own times. Further, the Britons carried Christianity to Armorica. French writers generally agree that, although at the end of the fourth century there were Gallo-Roman mission- aries at Nantes, Rennes, and Vannes, and a few Christians scattered here and there about Armorica, no great diffusion of Christianity is to be found in that country until after the arrival of the British immigrants. Among the British chiefs who, in the fifth century (ctr. 470-75), landed in Armorica or Brittany, as one may henceforth cal] the region, there was a certain COMORRE THE CURSED 65 Gradlon or Grallon, who, according to La Borderie, came from the vicinity of the Tyne and the wall of Severus, and who established himself in a part of the country which became known as Cornouaille,! the equivalent of our Cornwall. This chief acquired the appellation of Gradlon Mur, signifying Gradlon the Great ; and early writers describe him as having engaged the Saxons, at the mouth of the Loire, with such good result that he captured five vessels and decapitated five chiefs. He is said to have founded the famous abbeys of St. Jagut and Landevennec, but the latter's charters, often quoted by early historians, were forged, says La Borderie, in the eleventh century, and evidence of the ninth shows that the abbey was really the creation of St. Guénolé (Wingalzus), on whom Gradlon be- stowed nothing. Whilst it is certain that Gradlon really existed, much that is recorded of him is un- true; for the compilers of romances and legends associated him with all sorts of marvellous things, notably the notorious lost city of Ys, which he was said to have founded on the jutting headland bound- ing the Bay of Douarnenez on its southern side. Ys may have existed, and have been submerged by the sea, as the legends assert; but that it was destroyed by Heaven in consequence of the profli- gacy of Gradlon’s court, and notably that of his daughter Aés, is quite another matter.2 We only 1 Quimper was probably its chief city. 4 The legend of Ys, though similar to that of other lost cities, is an interesting one ; and as M. de la Borderie has made some 5 66 BLUEBEARD know that when Gradlon died he was buried at Landevennec, where, according to Brother Albert of Morlaix, the biographer of the Breton saints, his tomb still existed early in the seventeenth century. He had a son, named Riwelen Mur Marc’hou, who predeceased him ; and about 510, when he had been dead some four or five years, his State passed, it seems, into the possession of a chief called Iaun Reith, the leader of another exodus from Britain. While Gradlon still ruled Cornouaille, a certain Weroc or Werok (otherwise Guerech) held another part of Brittany, the region of Vannes, which became known as the Bro-Weroc or Browerech ; and, about 513-15, a British chief named Riwal, landing at the mouth of the Couesnon, established, with the coun- tenance of the Franks, a State called Domnonée in French and Domnonia! in Latin, an appellation borrowed from Britain. This State would seem to have extended over the present department of Ille-et-Vilaine, and a portion of Les Cétes-du-Nord. In the northern part of Finistére, named Léon, there was another British chief whom La Borderie calls Withur (510-30). Then there are indications of various chiefs having exercised authority at different points of the coast, and of others established in or ingenious suggestions with respect to its origin, a few particulars are given in our Appendix B. 1 The name is written in various fashions. At times it becomes Damnonia, at others Dumnonia. In England the form Danmonium—as applied to ‘Old Cornwall,’ or Devonshire, as far east as Exeter—appears to have been current, as it is frequently given by Hunt in his ‘ Popular Romances of the West of England.’ COMORRE THE CURSED 67 about Broceliande; whilst at Rennes, Nantes, and Vannes (the city of that name, it would seem, was not held by Weroc, though he ruled some of the adjacent country) there appear as time goes on sundry Frankish Counts and Dukes, Wardens of the Marches as it were, representing the Merovingian Kings. The long controversy between French and Breton historians with respect to the alleged con- quest of Brittany by Clovis has ended in the recogni- tion that it never took place, but that as the power of the Merovingian princes increased, they exercised a kind of suzerainty over the country—a suzerainty which the Breton chiefs accepted or denied, as seemed best suited to their interests, and which, judged by the endless disputes and wars which sprang from it wholly or in part, suggests in various respects the relative positions of Great Britain and the South African Republics prior to the present Boer War. The foregoing rough sketch! of the origin of Brittany and its state about the time when the real Comorre made his first appearance in history may, 1 It 1s, of course, one of the roughest ; but those whom the subject may interest must turn for particulars to La Borderie’s History, of which an abridged English adaptation might well be made for the use of students who are not familiar with the French language. This is the more desirable by reason of the connection of Brittany with England at various times. For instance, the Breton Dukes were often important factors in the foreign policy of the Plantagenets. But if there are numerous English works on Norman, there is, the present writer believes, virtually none of value on Breton, history. The picturesqueness of Britt any alone seems to have appealed to English writers. 5—2 68 BLUEBEARD to some readers, seem an unpardonable digression ; but it must be pointed out that the chiefs who have been mentioned, or their heirs, or their possessions, figure repeatedly in the story of Comorre’s life. Moreover, the somewhat intricate nature of that story has induced the writer to attempt a chrono- logical table, which will explain Comorre’s connection with the various petty States and rulers that have to be mentioned in narrating his career. spuoy yo wos “Ivman{ | usa om JO musy day ‘xaym ‘pu ¢ «JOT png Jo 101980" ¥ mam mata a [sasppurxosdgo aap saqguy oery} 3 49083 serup yt 1V) ssyargp emo Aq 3802 20 aasowory ka, paras 81 suoteros90d Sty Jo ed ¥ tyeap sy UO *0f-018 “AOHLIM NOJT SILOVNVD 7 24tPYI01 aye foes “onmeg | sgehelongl et sepoqury = m0 706-L55 “2[199q Ut PUD 1 amjo amp Aq “T] D0uRM — 09-088 amOsay BTL, qIwep 07 nd | (argomog x ‘pasomoy | a9 DAT our) 0} poureyy 03 pasoddng §=—“L/-095aatmz9q10) CANIHGAUL, §—“sHOS H74YL “DVTTOVN § OONOD, i i - | J "08-008 *] (Howamn) Somm mM o(yrrasmongy ‘20424 -04g ‘H8Y204044 8470) SIVLUNNVA “ANVLLIUG JO SHATNA ATAVA “o£§ qnoqe ‘suBys1 pus sumnyax “our PY way] omy ‘£q ajrenowz0:) 0301) u9ag “anpy woppoy JO 28004 2 30 “II dang vaneinod ‘ova I | +] orang | ‘HLIGY NOV] Jo 00s “THINVG ‘Huy NOVI ATIHVAONYOD IT COMORRE’'S CAREER—THE TRADITIONS AND PERRAULT'S TALE Carhaix and Princess Ats—Comorre’s Original Dominions — He assists Harwian, the Bard, to win Rivanone—He is a Great Helper of the Monks—He annexes Portions of Cornouaille and Leon—He seizes Domnonia and marries the Widow of Iona, whom he is said to have killed—The Mutilation and Murder of Melar—Comorre regards Judwal, his Stepson, with Distrust— The Dream of Comorre’s Wife—Judwal’s Flight—Comorre strikes a Saint, and is thrown from his Horse by Heaven—His Quarrels with the Clergy—His Wife vanishes: did he kill her? —He solicits the Hand of Weroc’s Daughter, Tryphine— St. Gildas of Rhuys—The Oratory on the Blavet—Gildas assists Comorre to marry Tryphine—Comorre urges Weroc to divide his Territory—Weroc refuses—Comorre vents his Rage on Tryphine—Her Flight and Comorre’s Attempt on her— Interpretation of the Legend—Tryphine’s Son and After-Life— Comorre is solemnly cursed—Conoo and his Brothers— St. Samson of Dol brings Judwal back to Brittany—Three Battles and the Death of Comorre—The End of Tryphine’s Brothers—Comorre confounded with Conoo—Growth of the Comorre Legend—The Paintings at St. Nicholas de Bieuzy— A Breton Tale of Redbeard, another of a Much-married Giant —The Possible Derivation of ‘ Bluebeard’ from the Comorre Legend. ComorrE makes his first appearance in history at the town of Carhaix, in Finistére, which, before his time, had been one of the chief cities and fortresses COMORRE THE CURSED 71 of Roman Armorica—the Vorganium of the Osismii, the Vorgium of the Theodosian table. Very numerous remains of the Roman dominion have been found at Carhaix—remnants of aqueducts, bricks in abundance, vases, bronzes, innumerable articles of pottery, silver coins and medals of various Emperors; while seven distinct Roman roads, radiating chiefly towards different points of the coast, have been traced in the vicinity of the town. Situated at an altitude of some 500 feet above the sea, amid forest and mountain, it was probably the only inland fortress of the Romans in that part of the country. According to some accounts, it was occupied after the arrival of the Britons by Gradlon of Cornouaille, from whose daughter, Aés or Ahés, it is said to have derived its modern name. M. de la Borderie, however, on the ground that the British immigrants often gave British names to their new homes, suggests that Carhaix took its appellation from Carhayes, a little place north-east of Falmouth. Yet, remembering the situation of the spot, and all the roads that radiate from it, one may perhaps be allowed to surmise that Carhaix is only a corruption of Carfax. The true Breton, at any rate, clings to the etymology of Ker-Aés. The Roman road which goes from Carhaix towards the Raz, where Ys is said to have been submerged, is called Hent-Aés, ‘the road of Aés,’ by the peasantry, who, well within our times, still sang a woeful ballad of Gradlon’s hateful daughter : ‘See! she is coming ; let us carry 72 BLUEBEARD big stones to the roads. Big and little stones, to the roads, let us carry them all! Better death than Aés! For taxmasters come in her train. The white plague, the black plague, and cruel war with eagles, with wolves, and with ravens, all follow Aés!"! In this ballad, derived, it may be, from ancient Armorican sources, the semi-fabulous Princess of Ys, whom the legends describe as having been thirty feet in height—for Brittany, like Cornwall, believed in an age of giants—is simply a symbol of the Roman dominion, its fiscal system, and the harshness of its pro-consuls. And perhaps it was the oppression of feudal times and the hateful corvde of the old French monarchy that helped to perpetuate until our own day that cry of the downtrodden peasantry, toiling on the highways. But whatever may be the origin of the name of Carhaix, it is there, on the ruins of Vorganium, that Comorre is found between the years 515 and 520, perched, among forest and mountain, like some baron of later days un the banks of the Rhine. He was certainly a Briton, but whether an immigrant or a native of Brittany cannot be said. And nothing is known of his personal appearance, though one may assume that at the date mentioned he was a young man, bold, enterprising, and in some things unscrupulous. He is occasionally called a prefect 1 Adapted from a ballad called ‘Groac’h Aes’ given in the ‘Annuaire historique et archéologique de Bretagne’—Année 1861-2. Rennes, 1861-2, 1z2mo, Groac’h here means a malignant fairy. COMORRE THE CURSED 73 of Childebert, the King of the Franks, but it seems more correct to say that he was one of those petty Breton chiefs who had placed themselves under the patronage, among the tributaries perhaps, of the Merovingian rulers of France. He exercised sway over the northern part of the basin of the Aune, a poor and arid region, then called Pou-Caér—the Land of the City—and afterwards by corruption Poher—a region bounded on one side by the Montagnes Noires, and on the other embracing, perhaps, both slopes of the Montagne d’Arrée. And remembering the Roman roads which crossed Comorre’s possessions, one may surmise that he subsisted, in part, by toll, and, perhaps, occasionally plunder. At the same time he protected and assisted those travellers who brought with them the recommenda- tions of King Childebert. Indeed, he is first mentioned by the hagiologists in connection with a certain Harwian, a British bard, who, after resid- ing some time at the Frankish court, was consigned on his homeward way to Comorre's care. Harwian, however, whilst sojourning with the so-called Count of Pou-Caér, cast loving eyes on a maiden named Rivanone, who lived with her brother Rigour (Rigurius), and who was piously inclined. Eager to marry the damsel, Harwian applied to Comorre for his help, which was accorded. If one account may be believed, force was used to overcome the maid's resistance, and, on being wedded to Harwian, she bitterly bewailed her fate. She cursed the ties 74 BLUEBEARD she loathed, she cursed the man who had married her by force, and when she found herself likely to become a mother, she cried aloud that she hoped her child might never see the light of day. And that dread wish was fulfilled ; the child, who in later years was to become famous as St. Hervé, and who was destined to curse, in the name of the Breton clergy, the fman who had forced his mother to wed a stranger—was born blind !! In those rough times, perhaps, little heed was paid to the wishes of a maid when a man desired to wed her, and Comorre may have felt no prickings of conscience with respect to his share in that transaction. For the rest, whether from piety or policy—a desire to get on in the world—he be- friended the clergy ; we are told that he was at this time very devoted to the saints, a great helper of the monks. He protected an anchoret, afterwards known as St. Hernin or St. Harn, who dwelt on the borders of Broceliande, where he assisted him to build a chapel or church, with which the present village of Loc-Harn originated. But Comorre was ambitiously inclined, and made expeditions down the Elorn as far as the remains of a Roman station on the site of Brest, annexing some of the country thereabouts, for Gradlon, who in all probability had 1 This is based on the account borrowed by La Borderie from some of the hagiologists; but there is a very different version describing the marriage as a love-match ; and even fragments of a song, in which after Harwian’s death Rivanone is represented bitterly bewailing the loss of her beloved bard, are quoted. COMORRE THE CURSED 75 previously held the -region, was now dead, and all was confusion under the Taun Reith line of Cornouaille. At all events, charters of the eleventh century mention as then still existing in a ruined state a stronghold raised by Comorre at Lan Goueznou, which derived its name from St. Goueznou, another holy man whom the Count of Pou-Caér is said to have protected. But he cast covetous eyes towards Léon, a fertile region on the north, far richer than his original possessions, or even Cornouaille, for (as the legends say) the giants, after arriving in Brittany from Britain, had, in reward for their welcome in Léon, cleared its soil of all the stones they could: find there, hurling them revengefully into Cornouaille, whose inhabitants had given them the coldest of receptions. But Léon was held by a certain Withur, who, like Comorre himself, had accepted the suzerainty of Childebert, and thus, until Withur’s death, which took place about 530, the ruler of Pou-Caér did not venture to encroach on. his neighbour’s territory. Circumstances changed when Withur died, and Comorre then appropriated the greater part of Léon. His earth hunger, his craving for dominion, increased with years. The incidents of his career conclusively prove that he dreamt of making himself sole master of Brittany. Riwal had founded the state of Domnonia about 515,- and his son Deroch (520-35) was more than once at loggerheads with Comorre. The latter at last found his opportunity in the time of Deroch’s son, Iona, 76 BLUEBEARD who ruled Domnonia from 535 to 540, and who married a daughter of Count Budic I. of Cornouaille. Between Comorre and [ona there was intercourse, outwardly of a friendly character. But one day the subjects of these chiefs heard that Iona was dead— killed by some accident whilst following the chase. Soon, however, the most sinister rumours were in circulation. None dared to accuse Comorre openly, but it was whispered that he had rid himself of Iona in order to gratify his ambition. One thing is certain: Iona was scarcely dead when Comorre married his widow! and virtually appropriated his possessions. The chroniclers generally assert that the lady was forced to this match,? but it is possible that she did not accept it unwillingly; for whatever Albert of Morlaix may assert of Comorre’s passions, saying that ‘he only took wives to gratify his lust, and treated them rather as concubines than as law- ful spouses,’ it seems certain that Comorre and Iona’s widow, for a time at all events, lived together in good accord. We do not know whether Comorre had been previously married, though such may well have been the case, for at this time (cz7. 540) he was certainly over forty years of age. 1 The writer has searched several works for her name, but has failed to find it. 2 The original authority for this statement appears to be the ‘Vita S. Leonor’ (St. Lunaire), in the ‘Acta Sanctorum’ of the Bollandists, Antwerp edition, §13. It should be pointed out, however, that there was bitter enmity between Comorre and St. Lunaire, as our narrative will show. COMORRE THE CURSED "7 By her first marriage with Iona, his wife had a son named Judwal, the rightful heir to the State of Domnonia, which Comorre ruled with the title of regent. He is found living with his wife and step- son at Pou-castel, near Beuzit (previously Buxidus), west of Lanmeur, near the northern shore of Finis- tére. Early in the nineteenth century an esplanade and a moat were still to be seen there, testifying to the existence of the destroyed castle.! From this spot Comorre, still under the suzerainty of Childe- bert, ruled more than half of Brittany, Domnonia, Poher, and Léon; and, content for a time with his increase of power, he behaved, it would seem, with propriety and prudence. But one must now turn to Cornouaille, where Budic, the father of Comorre’s wife, had been suc- ceeded by his son Meliau, who, dying in or about 537, had left his possessions to his only child, a boy named Melar or Meloir. Rivod, Meliau’s brother, had been entrusted with the regency and the guardianship of the young count; but he be- came more and more jealous of the boy as the latter grew in years. A mere regency did not satisfy him, and in order that the lad might never be able to exercise sovereignty, he treated him with a cruelty more ferocious even than that which is imputed to our English Richard Crookback. He caused the boy’s left foot and his right hand to be cut off, so as to prevent him from ever mounting a 1 Albert Le Grand, edition of 1837, M. de Kerdanel’s notes, p. 619. 78 BLUEBEARD horse or using a sword. And incredible as such fiendishness may seem to people nowadays, there is really no reason to doubt the statements of the hagiologists and the chroniclers, for we know, by the researches and narratives of many modern his- torians, what horrible and loathsome deeds were perpetrated in those Merovingian days by ambitious princes eager to prevent children from ever urging their claims. But the mutilation of Melar—inspired perhaps by Frankish practices of which Rivod had heard— was foreign to the Breton character, and filled the people of Cornouaille with indignation. Many of the clergy and the chiefs assembled, and although they were unable to deprive Rivod of the regency, they removed Melar from his custody and placed him in that of one of his cousins, named Keryaltan. And the legends add, but this the reader may believe or not, as he pleases, that the unfortunate youth was provided with a hand of silver and a foot of iron. Rivod, however, if baulked, was not defeated. He resolved to rid himself of Melar altogether ; and with this object he strove to corrupt Keryaltan. The two men soon came to an agreement. Kery- altan, as the price of his crime, demanded, and was promised, certain lands. The legends say that he asked for all the territory that he might be able to see from the summit of a certain hill. Then, every- thing being agreed, he confided in his wife Barilia, who, at the first moment, was fascinated by the COMORRE THE CURSED 79 prospect of a great increase of wealth. But pity for the unfortunate, mutilated youth afterwards came upon her ; and she resolved to save him. For this purpose she carried him with a few attendants to Comorre’s castle,! which seemed to be the safest place of refuge, for Comorre’s wife was the sister of both the deceased Meliau and the regent Rivod, and therefore Melar’s aunt. It was reasonable to expect that she would take pity on her nephew. From some accounts the flight would seem to have been a very dramatic one; but the fugitives ultimately reached Pou-castel, and were made wel- come there. a Unhappily Keryaltan, hungering for his promised lands, followed them, feigned contrition, and was reconciled to his wife and the unfortunate Melar. Then, one night, when all suspicion had disappeared, he stole, accompanied, it would seem, by his own son, into Melar’s chamber, and promptly despatched the sleeping youth, one account saying that with a single stroke of his sword he severed Melar's head from his body. Then the assassin fled, re- paired to the residence of Rivod, and claimed his due. But at the moment when he reached the summit of the hill, whence he was to designate the territory which was to form his reward, Heaven— so say the legends, which intrude upon one at each step of Breton history—was pleased to intervene, and Keryaltan fell to the ground blinded. M. de la 1 ¢Ad castellum Comori, Regis Francorum prefecti, cum eodum, trans Montem, aufugit.’—* Acta Sanctorum (S. Melar).’ 80 BLUEBEARD Borderie suggests that, if any such incident occurred, the miscreant may have had a stroke of apoplexy, consequent, it is to be presumed, on his exertion in climbing. Melar, meanwhile, had been buried in the church of Kerfeunteun, now Lanmeur. The present edifice dates from the eleventh century, but a crypt of much earlier date still existed in 1867. In this crypt, whose vaulted roof was upheld by thick squat pillars, on which twining serpents were carved, there was to be found an old statue of Melar (who after his death was ranked as a saint), a statue showing him with only one foot and one hand in accordance with tradition; but the stone coffin in which his remains were laid behind the high altar of the upper church disappeared long ago. It is believed that St. Melar’s bones were for safety carried to Paris in the tenth century, when the Normans preyed on this part of the Breton coast. It may be that this dreadful tragedy had rendered Pou-castel odious to Comorre and his wife. At all events they are next found dwelling at another of their castles, between Corseul (the famous capital of the Curiosolites) and Plancoét in Les Cétes-du- Nord. Roman remains have been found on the site, and it is known that the Breton chiefs often turned the half-demolished fortresses of the Imperial days into residences. At the present time, however, the spot where Comorre dwelt is occupied by the ruins of the feudal castle of Montafilant, which, from the twelfth century onward, was owned by the houses of Dinan, COMORRE THE CURSED 81 Laval, and Tournemine. Comorre’s residence there became before long the scene of incidents which ultimately led to his overthrow. He began to regard his stepson Judwal, the heir of Iona, with suspicion. He doubtless foresaw the day when this youth would be claiming his rights, and, in- fluenced perhaps by the example of Rivod with respect to Melar, he may have resolved to imitate it. The legends, of course, describe what happened in a very melodramatic manner. One night, it is said, Comorre’s wife had a dream, in which she saw her son crowned and wearing all the apparel of sovereignty. She imprudently recounted this dream to her husband, who responded that she would never see it fulfilled, and who determined from that hour to slay this Judwal who might some day rise up to dispossess him. Some knowledge or idea of Comorre’s intention came to his wife, who immedi- ately warned her son. Judwal fled for protection to St. Lunaire, who then (¢z7. 545) dwelt at a monastery he had estab- lished on the sea-shore. A village bearing the saint’s name now stands on the site of that monas- tery,? whither Comorre promptly pursued his stepson. But with St. Lunaire’s help Judwal had already 1 To which Gilles de Rais, the other reputed ‘ Bluebeard,’ belonged. A Tournemine, too, was Gilles’ first guardian. 2 St. Lunaire is between Dinard and St. Enogat. The church is partially of the eleventh and partially of the fifteenth centuries. There is a twelfth-century tomb of the saint with an effigy show- ing him clad in his pontifical vestments, with the staff of his crozier thrust between the jaws of a monster. 6 82 BLUEBEARD embarked, bound for Frankish territory ; and when Comorre galloped up to the monastery and imperi- ously demanded the surrender of his stepson, the holy man pointed, perhaps derisively, to a bark which was already quitting the bay. In his exceed- ing wrath Comorre struck the Abbot, and, accord- ing to some accounts, would still have attempted pursuit, but his horse suddenly became unmanage- able, reared, and fell with its rider, who had one of his thighs broken, and long lingered between life and death. The moral, of course, was that one ought never to raise one’s hand against an Abbot. When Comorre recovered, however, he sought revenge by persecuting the clergy. He threatened St. Tudual, behaved haughtily with St. Malo, and would have made short work of St. Lunaire if the latter had not been protected by Childebert. More- over, the people had now begun to murmur. It was said on all sides that Comorre had attempted Judwal'’s life, and the mysterious death of Iona was also imputed to him. Thus confronted by the enmity of the monks and the discontent of his subjects, it was necessary that he should remain on good terms with the King of the Franks, particu- larly as the latter had received Judwal at his court, and might be disposed to assist him in recovering his inheritance. For some years, indeed, this menace hung over Comorre’s head, inclining him to good behaviour in all that served the Merovingian interest. However, Judwal having fled the country, Comorre dropped the title of regent, and, according _ COMORRE THE CURSED 83 to some writers, became known as ‘ Dux Domnonice regionis. There was probably some agreement between him and Childebert, he undertaking to spread the Frankish authority, and the King pro- mising to detain, in semi-captivity, Iona’s heir. At this point Comorre’s wife suddenly vanishes from the scene. It is not known when or how she died. La Borderie says that Comorre treated her kindly and well, apart from his sudden jealousy of her son. Did his conduct alter after the latter’s flight? Did he quietly put the mourning mother out of the way? If so, would not the dark deed have been cast in his teeth a little later by some of the Breton clergy and the hagiologists? But though he is constantly reproached with the death of Iona and the attempt on Judwal, nothing is said of his wife. The silence is absolute, until, in later centuries, the tradition arises that this man Comorre had several wives, all of whom disappeared in so mysterious a manner that nobody could ever tell what became of them. To the very silence of the hagiologists and chroniclers one may, perhaps, trace the origin of the legend of wives fiendishly slaughtered. We assume that Comorre’s wife died, because the next notable incident in his career is his application, ‘some time in 547 or 548, to the Count of the Van- netais for the hand of the latter's daughter, Tryphine. For nearly half a century the Vannetais had been ruled by one of the most notable, and, considering the exceptional duration of his sovereignty, perhaps 6—2 84 BLUEBEARD one of the most diplomatic, of the Breton chiefs, Weroc (otherwise Guerech), whose eminence and im- portance are shown by the fact that the region he held took and long retained his name—Patria Warochii, Bro-Werech. This Weroc had six children, five sons and a daughter, and if Comorre solicited the latter’s hand it was probably from a desire to extend his rule yet further. But Weroc, a pacific, ex- perienced man, ripe in years, was aware of Comorre’s rapacity and unscrupulousness. He remembered also the mysterious death of Iona and the attempt on Judwal, and was at first by no means inclined to place his daughter in the hands of the ruler of Domnonia, even though the latter had chosen as his matrimonial ambassador a man whom all revered. It is now that St. Gildas enters into the story, and it may at once be said that there is no intention here of attempting to solve the problem of how many saints of that name there may have been. Con- fronted by the contradictory statements of hagio- logists and chroniclers, Ussher and Bale long ago came to the conclusion that there must have been at least two St. Gildases—the Badonian and the Albanian; and some subsequent writers even dis- tinguished both of the foregoing from the Gildas the Wise who wrote the famous unreadable ‘ Liber querulus de Excidio Britanniz.’ Others again have imagined even seven and eight saints of the name; but Professor Tout, in his article in the ‘ Dictionary of National Biography,’ is of opinion that there was only one. This may be right or wrong; but in any COMORRE THE CURSED 85 case an article which, however great the ability dis- played in it, evades many points of bitter contro- versy is not likely to end a discussion that has lasted for centuries among those interested in the subject. M. de La Borderie having been followed in many respects in the course of the present narrative, it may be allowable to take his view in this instance also. He, after studying the latin ‘Lives’ of the Abbot of Rhuys, and also the manuscript ‘ Histoire de Saint Gildas de Ruis, écrit en l’'an 1668, par un Bénéddictin,! arrives at the conclusion that the Gildas who became renowned in Brittany was born in or about 493-94; that he was a disciple of St. Illtyd ; that he attained to the priesthood when five- and-twenty years of age (518); that he went to Ireland and ministered there; that he returned to Britain about 530;: that he found a refuge in Glamorganshire, whence he was driven by the raids and invasions of the time ; and that, after writing the first part of his ‘De Excidio,’ he repaired to Armorica, landing on the isle of Houat off the coast of Le Morbihan in or about the year 538. Later dates than these have been suggested both for the birth of Gildas (516) and for his arrival in Brittany (550) ; but the last does not fit in with revised Breton chronology. In order that one may the better understand Gildas’s intercourse with Comorre, it is necessary to pursue the subject somewhat further. In coming to Brittany, Gildas’s first object was probably quietude 1 Bibliothéque Nationale, Paris, MSS. Fond 16822. 86 BLUEBEARD and repose; but he belonged to the Church militant, and before long, when he saw the inviting green peninsula of Rhuys on the horizon before him, he crossed from Houat to the mainland, and eventually established there the famous abbey which bears his name, and which six centuries later was ruled by the unhappy Abelard. From this spot Gildas at last made journeys through Brittany, perhaps for the purpose of ascertaining its condition, preaching, and disseminating religion, for pagans still existed in the country. He had with him a companion, a brother- monk called Bihi, afterwards Bieuzy,! and the pair of them entered and explored the great forest lands and the moors, where Gildas beheld all those Druidical remains the sight of which exasperated him. Eventually, on the banks of the Blavet, at a spot midway between the present towns of Pontivy and Baud, they found a little grotto in which they resolved to dwell awhile.2- The grotto being small, they resorted to excavation. It is now about 22 feet in depth and from 16 to 18 feet wide, and a stone, which rings sonorously on being struck, and which Gildas and Bihi are said to have used to summon the faithful to prayers, is preserved in it. On the overhanging rocks is a stone cross, and the spot is still known as the Oratory of ‘La Roche sur Blavet.’ Near at hand, in the hamlet of Castennec, where the notorious ‘idol of Quinipily’ was first discovered, and where the Roman station of Sulim 1 He was subsequently killed by a pagan. 2 ‘ Histoire de S. Gildas,’ etc., Bib. Nat., Paris. COMORRE THE CURSED 87 —on the road from Carhaix to Vannes—is supposed to have been situated, abundant relics of the im- perial age have been discovered ; and it is possible that Gildas's oratory was less lonely in his time than itis now. Almost in front of it, but on the other side of the Blavet, is the chapel of St. Nicodéme, renowned alike for its stone spire, which is 160 feet in height, and for its pilgrimages ; for the saint is credited with the power to preserve both the faithful and their cattle from epidemics, in such wise that numerous oxen and calves are presented at the chapel, and sold by auction for its benefit, every year. But, to return to St. Gildas, it may be assumed that he was at his oratory on the Blavet when Comorre requested him to solicit the hand of Tryphine from he ‘father Weroc. Comorre, on his side, must have ‘'-s.a at Castel Finans,! probably the extreme limi:.-.f his possessions in this part of Brittany, and, as the crow flies, only some fifteen miles from Gildas’s oratory, though by road the distance may be two or three and twenty. It is virtually certain that when Comorre summoned Gildas the latter consented to assist him in his suit,? being influenced by the fear that a terrible war might ensue if the marriage should not take 1 See ante, p. 41. Roch le Baillif asserts in his ‘ Petit Traicté de l’Antiquité et Singularités de la Brétagne-Armorique,’ Rennes, 1577, that he himself found in the old ruins of Castel Finans, other- wise Castel Géant, various ancient silver coins, some marked illegibly, others on which could be distinguished a tower and the inscription Castri Gigantis. 2 La Borderie cites ‘D. Vita II.* S. Gildz, § 21; Mabillon edition, p. 145.’ 88 BLUEBEARD place. And though he was acquainted with Comorre’s grasping disposition, he was not dis- posed to think that Tryphine would suffer at her husband’s hands. In any case, he pledged his word to Weroc that she would be well treated, and by dint of persuasion obtained the old chief's reluctant consent to the alliance. Thus Comorre and Tryphine were married, and for a short time there seemed to be every prospect of peace and harmony. Then, however, Comorre threw off the mask, and revealed his motive in desiring the match. In addition to his daughter, Weroc had five sons, the names of only two of whom have come down to us. One of these sons, the eldest, was named Conoo or Canao, while the other (who seems to have been the youngest of the five) was known as Macliau or Macliavus. Comorre, it may be inferred, became friendly with Macliau, who, as the sequel will show, was jealous of his brother Conoo, as the latter would inherit the Browerech territory whenever Weroc died. Now Weroc was an old man, perhaps seventy years of age, if not more, and it was unlikely that he would live much longer. Thus Comorre suddenly pro- posed to him that he should divide his possessions, giving one half of them to Macliau and the other half to himself (Comorre), as husband of Tryphine. No doubt some suitable provision was proposed for the old ruler of the Vannetais, but the latter was not tired of governing, and he indignantly rejected Comorre's suggestions. COMORRE THE CURSED 89 Comorre, thwarted in his designs, and restrained, perhaps, from plunging Brittany into war by the direct orders of Childebert, or by the thought of Judwal, could not conceal his fury, but cast angry glances upon Tryphine, whom he had only married for purposes of aggrandizement. His manner un- doubtedly filled her with alarm. Perhaps she had heard horrible stories of him from some of those about her; perhaps he actually threatened her with violence. At all events, one morning, attended by a few servants, she stole down from the height of Castel Finans for the purpose of placing herself in safety. Modern investigation has shown that the great Roman road from Rennes to Carhaix passed by way of Mur-de-Bretagne, Caurel, Gouarec, and Ros- trenen ; and La Borderie thinks that, on quitting Castel Finans, she sought that road, then, on find- ing herself pursued, plunged into the forest land, and was overtaken by her husband about four miles north of the present village of Gouarec, at a spot where now stands a church of St. Tréphine, in which some say she was buried, and which was first raised; perhaps, to commemorate her tragic adventure. That view, however, may be erroneous. Brittany numbers several churches and chapels of St. Tré- phine, St. Tréfine, and St. Triphyne, as she is variously called. There are two in the very region mentioned by La Borderie—the one he specifies, and another in the vicinity of Callac; and thus the 90 BLUEBEARD presence of a church dedicated to Tryphine in any particular spot does not seem suffictent evidence that this spot was the scene of Comorre’s murderous onslaught. Moreover, in fleeing from her husband, Tryphine must have been anxious to reach her natural protectors, her father and Gildas; and thus, instead of seeking the Roman road from Carhaix to Rennes, she would rather have directed her course towards that which ran from Carhaix to Vannes. In any case, she was pursued and overtaken by her husband. Albert of Morlaix says that this occurred near Vannes, an assertion which, given the distance from Castel Finans to that city, is nonsensical. Besides, there is evidence which tends to show that, although Weroc ruled over what is called the Van- netais, he did not hold Vannes itself, some Frankish Warden of the Marches being stationed there. And as Tryphine was undoubtedly overtaken in a wood- land, it seems more reasonable to suppose that this woodland was the present forest of Quénécan. The historical, or perhaps it is best to say the semi- historical, account agrees with the legend in telling us that the unfortunate woman heard the approach of her pursuers, and hid herself among some bushes. But Comorre galloped up, and scoured the wood like an expert sportsman who knew how to unearth his game. He discovered his trembling wife, he drew her forth, and, raising his blade, he dealt her a terrible blow om the head, inflicting a horrible wound and stunning her. She sank senseless to the ground, COMORRE THE CURSED 91 and the ruffian, believing her dead, rode back to his castle.! Albert of Morlaix, in his legend, asserts that Weroc was informed of the tragedy by his daughter’s servants, that he recovered the ‘decapitated’ body, caused it to be laid in state in the great hall of the castle of Vannes, and then ‘ posted’ (‘ prit la poste ’!) towards the Blavet to consult Gildas, who hospitably kept him to dinner before going to attend to the dead woman, who, being dead, was no doubt well able to wait. But wherever Tryphine fell, whether north of Gouarec or in the vicinity of Cléguerec, she was certainly nearer to Gildas than to her father; and one may accept the view that Gildas, after being informed of the tragic occurrence, was conducted to the spot where the unhappy woman lay, found her still senseless—suffering, no doubt, from concussion of the brain, in addition to which her skull may have been fractured—and then by dint of extreme care and skilful science—a science derived perchance through St. Illtyd from those expert ‘medicine-men’ the Druids — revived and healed her. As soon as possible he led her back to her father, and bade him take every care of her and of the child whom she would soon bring into the world. All this seems simple enough; but the ignorant, as was natural in those days, regarded the recovery of Tryphine as a resurrection, a miracle performed by Heaven at the intercession of the saintly Abbot of Rhuys. 1 La Borderie, Zc. 92 BLUEBEARD That the latter, in his indignation, betook himself to Castel Finans to upbraid Comorre for his cruelty, that the gates were closed at his approach, that the watch on the rampart had orders to decline any parley, may be well believed; but the legend of the handful of sand thrown at the castle walls, and the crumbling of those walls immediately afterwards, is merely an example of many legends devised, in later ages, to account for the destruction of one or another famous stronghold. The reader may ask, however, what became of Tryphine after the ‘ miracle.1 Albert of Morlaix asserts that when she was brought to life again her gratitude to Gildas was so intense that she vowed never to leave him. But the holy man rebuked her, Saying ‘it was not meet for a woman to follow a 1 In a canticle sung every year at Auray on the occasion of the festival of St. Gildas (January 29) the following occurs : ‘Sancti Gildasi, Qui Tryfinam suscitasti, Quam tyrannus occiderat Inter sylvarum pascua.’ The resuscitation of Tryphine is not the only miracle ascribed to St. Gildas in the Breton legends. ‘There are many others. Perhaps his most wonderful legendary adventure was a trip he took on the sea with four demons, who had disguised themselves as monks, and who, at some distance from the shore, suddenly dis- appeared together with their boat, leaving the holy man standing upon the water, with one foot resting on a comer of his cloak, and his staff caught in another corner of it, in such wise that the garment served him as a sail to catch the sudden breeze which, coming from heaven, wafted him safely to land. There is a similar legend about some women of the Isle of Arz, and another of St. Nennoch crossing the sea from Britain to Brittany in a stone trough. COMORRE THE CURSED 93 monk.’ And as she evinced great piety, he promised that after her delivery ‘he would dedicate her to the service of God in a monastery of holy virgins.’ This, apparently, was done. All the available accounts agree in saying that Tryphine founded a convent and dwelt therein after giving birth to a son, who, like herself, received canonization after his death.! The Bretons call him St. Trever, the French Tremeur or Tremoré, and it would seem that he was educated at the abbey of St. Gildas of Rhuys ; but the writer has failed to ascertain any- thing else about his career, apart from the fact that on the west door of a church dedicated to him at Carhaix there are or were a series of carvings stated to represent certain incidents in his life, one of them showing him as a Breton St. Denis—that is, holding his head in his hands. It is asserted, indeed, that he was decapitated by his father, but this seems unlikely, for he cannot have been more than seven years old at the time of Comorre's death. Comorre, after his murderous attempt on Tryphine, would appear to have embarked on a career of violence, excesses, and exactions, the outcome, per- haps, of his mortification and resentment at having failed in his designs upon the Vannetais. Though he could assume friendliness with a man like Gildas 1 As the Protestant reader may wonder at the great number of the Breton saints, it is as well to point out that canonization was then conferred by Bishops and Churches, without reference to the Court of Rome. It is asserted that the first canonization by Papal authority was that of St. Udalricus in 993 (‘ Recueil des Historiens de France,’ preface, vol. x.). 94 BLUEBEARD when it suited his purpose to do so, he had repeated quarrels with the Breton clergy. It may be also that he was jealous of the latter’s increasing wealth and influence, and desired to keep it in check. But in those days the ruler who came into conflict with the Church was seldom victorious, and though Comorre contrived to hold his own for a few years longer, his fall may be directly traced to his struggle with the priesthood. It is certain that a council of Bishops assembled on the Menez Bré near Guingamp to deliberate on the subject of his misrule and the crimes imputed to him. There was a vast concourse of prelates and people. The death of Iona was recalled ; the attempts on Tryphine and the absent Judwal were denounced, and Judwal’s rightful claims to Domnonia were urged. This council was held in the year 550, or perhaps a little earlier. St. Gildas does not seem to have attended it. Perhaps he was still on the Blavet, or had returned to Rhuys.! But another very famous Breton saint was present. 1 He died, it is said, on the isle of Houat on January 29, 570. According to one legend there was a dispute among his monks as to where he should be buried, and a boat, in which his remains were at last placed, sank between Houat and the mainland. At this the monks were in great distress, but, three months later, the boat was washed up near Rhuys, and St. Gildas's body was found in it, fresh and whole, ‘even as on the day when he died,’ the salt water having miraculously preserved it. Glastonbury is said, by some English writers, to have been Gildas’s resting-place, but a skull and arm-bones, alleged to have been his, still figure among the relics of Rhuys. The oldest part of that abbey, however, is of the twelfth century. It is known to have been destroyed by the Normans in the tenth. COMORRE THE CURSED 95 This was the blind St. Hervé, at that time neither deacon nor priest, but merely an exorcist. To do him honour, as he was late in arriving, the council deferred its business for a whole day. The result of its deliberations was the solemn cursing of Comorre for his crimes and his tyranny. Throughout Brittany he received the name of ‘Comor ar Miliguet ’—a name still universal in the sixteenth century, as D’Argentré has recorded in his history. Nevertheless, Comorre showed a bold front. The thunders of the Church had no terrors for him; he was not the man to quail before any St. Dunstan. For a time, indeed, he seems to have taken more interest in what was happening in the Vannetais than in the proceedings of his priestly adversaries. Old Weroc having died, Conoo, his eldest son, had succeeded to his possessions, and, fearful of the rivalry of his brothers, had savagely put three of them to death. A similar fate seemed likely to overtake the remaining one, Macliau, who was thrown into a dungeon, and only released after humbling himself and renouncing every right. Even then he did not deem himself in safety, but fled to his old friend Comorre, with whom, a few years pre- viously, he had proposed to divide the Vannetais. Comorre concealed him, and when Conoo's envoys came to claim the fugitive, he pointed to a tomb— perhaps a tumulus—which he had raised, and told them that Macliau was dead. In the end, however (552), Macliau renounced all claim to dominion, put away his wife, and accepted 96 BLUEBEARD priesthood and the tonsure in order to secure eleva- tion to the bishopric of Vannes. This fact is cited, among several others, as showing that the Vannetais or Browerech ruled by Weroc and Conoo did not include the city of Vannes, for Macliau, who still meditated revenge, would never have placed himself again in Conoo’s power. Thus it is argued that Vannes was garrisoned by the Franks. A few more years went by, Comorre and the clergy still at variance. But one of the latter, Samson of Dol —St. Samson, as he became—had repaired to the court of Childebert to solicit the release of Judwal, the rightful heir of Domnonia. Suitable pledges were doubtless offered with respect to the Frankish suzerainty over Brittany, and, after a time, Childe- bert, apparently, was willing to sacrifice Comorre. But we are told that Ultragotha, Childebert’s wife, had cast lascivious eyes on young Judwal, and would not let him go. Naturally enough, the legends step in at this particular point ; the opportunity was too good a one to be missed by them. They pretend that Ultragotha caused a poisoned beverage to be offered to Samson at the royal table, but that when he made the sign of the Cross over the cup it was shivered to pieces, while as the liquor dropped upon the cup-bearer’s hand ulcers immediately formed on it, Samson, however, considerately curing them by another sign of the Cross. In like manner he rendered an untamable horse, which was presented to him by the Queen, as gentle as a lamb, and had only to pronounce the Lord’s name in order to cause COMORRE THE CURSED 97 a monstrous lion to recoil in respect and fear when the wicked Ultragotha summoned the beast from Hades in the hope that it would devour the holy man. Finally, all her enchantments having failed, her opposition ceased ; but when Samson celebrated Mass for the last time before quitting the court with Judwal, she impiously turned her back on the altar, and in punishment for her irreverence she was struck dead—an assertion utterly at variance with the historical account, which shows that Ultragotha sur- vived her husband. Having removed Judwal from Childebert’'s court, Samson found him an asylum on one of the Channel Islands, either Jersey or (Guernsey, and it was arranged that he should remain there until all was in readiness for a rising in Domnonia. When, about 554-55, the young man, like some ‘ Bonnie Prince Charlie,’ landed on the Breton shore, he was met by a crowd of eager adherents. ‘Come and avenge Iona! Avenge your father!’ they cried to him. ‘ We will help you!’ Judwal’s forces appear to have been mustered near Dol; but Comorre was not idle, he still had his partisans, whatever might have been the harshness of his rule and the effects of the solemn cursing of the Church. A first battle was fought—perhaps between St. Malo and Chateauneuf—and he was worsted in it. But although he retreated, he still held the field. A like result, however, attended a second engagement, and at last the contending parties met for the third time on the wild heather- 7 98 BLUEBEARD lands south of Morlaix (Finistére), between the forest of Gerber and the first slopes of the Mon- tagne d’Arrée. Spots bearing very significant names are still shown there ; for instance, the Rosarc’ham, the slope of the battle; the Ban Lac’h, the knoll of the massacre; and the Roc’h Conan, the rock of the chief. And here, then, on the scene of his early exploits, his first march upon Léon after Withur’s death, Comorre turned to bay and met his fate. A wound laid him low, says the Mabillon Life of St. Samson, but another account of the same saint's career (Angers MSS.) describes his end more graphically: ‘Comorre was vanquished; a javelin from the hand of Judwal struck him down ; he died.’ And, the usurper killed, the rightful heir reigned in his stead. Such, so far as fact can be disentangled from legend, seems to have been the life and fate of the man who for a century has been openly called ‘the Breton Bluebeard.’ Some years ago a large block of schistous slate, designated as the ‘Men Bez Comor,’ was shown on a spot named Brank Halleg, or the Willow Bough, near the hamlet of Mengleuz, which adjoins the battlefield. Beneath that block of slate, said the peasants, lay the bones of the tyrant, awaiting the sounds of the judgment trump.! Before examining Comorre’s career in connection with the legends based on it, some mention must be made of incidents which occurred after his death. 4 Some historians cite a second Comorre, a ruler of Léon ; but La Borderie declares that there was never any such personage. COMORRE THE CURSED 99 Conoo, or Canao, the ruler of the Vannetais, who had put three of his brothers to death and com- pelled Macliau to enter the priesthood, was, like Comorre, a stern, harsh ruler, a terror to his sub- jects. Ambition came to him as it had come to the usurper of Domnonia, but unluckily for his schemes, after the death of Childebert, he gave an asylum to Chramn, the son of Childebert’s successor, Clothaire. Chramn, after various quarrels with his father, followed by a reconciliation, had remained appre- hensive of future punishment (we here follow Gregory of Tours), and therefore fled to Brittany with his wife and children. It may be that Clothaire only desired a pretext to invade Brittany, or else he regarded the hospitality accorded to Chramn by Conoo as an unpardonable action. In any case he collected an army and invaded Conoo’s possessions. A battle ensued on a spot west of Vannes, near the shore of the ‘inland sea,’ and Conoo—these Bretons were as brave as they were savage—fell fighting. But Chramn, who had a bark waiting on the shore, might have escaped had he not desired to save his wife and children, who had taken refuge in a hut. In trying to do so he was made a prisoner. If he expected any mercy from his father, he was deceived. By Clothaire’s orders he was bound to a bench in the hut, which was set on fire, in such wise that he was burnt to death there with his wife and his daughters. Directly Macliau, the Bishop of Vannes, heard that Conoo was dead, he cast his priestly vestments aside, took his wife back, let his hair grow again, and asserted 7—2 100 BLUEBEARD his rights to sovereignty. But it was a sovereignty of little account for a time, for the Franks spread through the Browerech and ravaged it. At last Macliau came into possession, and subsequently seized Cornouaille also; but the young Theodoric (son of Budic II.), whom he then drove away, returned, surprised him, and showed him no mercy. He was slain, with one of his sons named Jacob, in or about 577. Thus died the last of St. Tryphine’s brothers. If these final incidents, particularly those connected with Conoo, have been related, it is because con- fusion long existed among the chroniclers and his- torians, as well as in the popular mind, with respect to Comorre and Conoo. Many writers confounded the two men, with the result that their readers were confronted by a perfect monster—a ruffian who had killed Iona of Domnonia, who, perhaps, had mur- dered even Iona’s widow after forcibly making her his wife ; who had certainly threatened the life of Judwal; who had killed three of his own brothers, persecuted a fourth (Macliau), and decapitated his second wife (and sister) Tryphine. Briefly, a monster whose whole life was assassination, and whose deeds might serve as the basis of a far more horrible tale than ‘ Bluebeard.’ And Conoo being confounded with Comorre, a perfect pot-pourri of Breton history ensued. It became necessary to imagine all sorts of things in order to reconcile conflicting dates and events. It would require many pages fo point out all the blunders made by COMORRE THE CURSED IOI writers of one and another century, and it is not proposed to do so here. Those curious on the subject may compare M. de La Borderie’s history with the others.! Some of the older chronicles and histories of Brittany must indeed be read, so far as they deal with the early centuries of our era, in much the same spirit as one might read the ‘Chansons de Geste,’ whose writers, between them, took the events of three or four centuries, and adapted them to the reigns of a trio of rulers. Those writers, whatever their claims, were, as a matter of fact, but versifiers and romancers ; and their versions of history need not surprise, though they may well puzzle, one, particularly as when—to quote a recent work on ‘L’Epopée Romane '—one finds ‘certain religious legends respecting the Vandal invasion of France in 406, and a more or less authentic Arlesian martyr of the fifth century, St. Vezian, transferred from the Merovingian to the Carlovingian period ; Charles Martel being made to fight against the Vandals in Lorraine, St. Vezian falling beneath the blows of the Saracen ‘“ Aucebier” (Alsamah), who invaded the south in 721; then that invasion \ being confounded with that of “ Desramé” (Abder- rhaman) in 732, and finally identified with the 1 We have not followed M. de La Borderie blindly in our narra- tive. We have checked several of his statements, and have occasionally drawn somewhat different conclusions from the facts, conclusions such as M. de La Borderie, a devout Catholic, would not have drawn; but he may be consulted with advantage for references to authorities, etc. 102 BLUEBEARD struggles waged by Guillaume of Toulouse from 790 to 806.’ Nor was this all, for ‘ Vezian’s character was changed; he was made a knight, and his name was altered to Vivian, which was better known in the West of France.” This passage has been quoted because the fate of Vezian in the ‘ Matter of France’ illustrates the fate of Comorre at the hands of many historians and popular vaconteurs. It must be added, however, that the errors of the Breton writers arose in part from a neglect of philological considerations. Throughout this narrative the usurper of Dom- nonia has been called Comorre, the form of his name which has prevailed in modern times; but his real name was Conomor, meaning Conoo the Great, according to La Borderie, who objects to the etymology of Courson and others, who took ‘Cono’ as the equivalent of Conan, and made the name signify ‘great chief.’ Now, Conoo of the Van- netais, called sometimes Canao, is also repeatedly referred to by both the hagiologists and the older chroniclers by the names of Conober, Conoberus, Conoborus, Chonobarus, and so forth. Conober signifies Conoo the Little or the Short, and it is allowable to surmise that this was a nickname given him by his contemporaries for the express purpose of distinguishing him from Conomor. Had a little attention been paid to this matter some hundreds of years ago, when it was first assumed that the two 1 ‘Les Personnages de lEpopée Romane,’ by Vicomte Ch. de la Lande de Calan, Paris, 1901. COMORRE THE CURSED 103 men were identical, there might have been much less confusion in the particular period of Breton history to which they both belonged. It may be repeated that they were quite distinct. Comorre or Conomor never ruled the Vannetais: Conoo or Conober never encountered the forces of Judwal between St. Malo and Chateauneuf. He fell at the time when Chramn was taken prisoner in the battle fought west of the city of Vannes. That confusion should have arisen in the popular mind respecting the two personages is a different matter. Fourteen centuries now separate us from the days of Comorre and Conoo, and even if there. had been books to tell the Breton peasantry the truth, they, with their fervent belief in legend and tradition, would scarcely have accepted correction. It is more than probable that the stories told of Conomor and Conoo had already become entangled and blended in their minds many hundreds of years ago. One man had heard a tale of how the tyrant had murdered his brothers; another was sure that his victims had been his wives. The brothers were added to the wives, perhaps, and by degrees became part and parcel of them, in such a way that the tyrant was believed to have killed quite half a dozen spouses, and the foundation was laid for a tale of the Bluebeard kind. Brittany used to have its itinerant story-tellers; moreover, the Bretons often crossed their peninsula, going in pilgrimage from one fardon to another, when they not only told and heard marvellous stories of Our Lady and the 104 BLUEBEARD Saints, but narrated and listened to other curious legends, Arthurian, Druidical, and medieval. The years rolled on, and at last, from one to the other end of Brittany, in the lands which Conomor had usurped, and in those where Conober had ruled, there only remained the memory of one tyrant— ‘Comor ar Miliguet.’ One thing is virtually cer- tain: the Comorre remembered in our days in the vicinity of Camors, and again at Cloar Carnoét, the Comorre transformed into a ferryman, was Conoo, who reigned in that region; whereas the Comorre of Castel Finans, Carhaix and the Willow Bough, was Conomor, the usurper of Domnonia. It must be admitted that, however widespread the tradition in these later centuries, there is no proof of Perrault having borrowed his tale of ‘ Bluebeard ’ from the Comorre legend. No ancient chronicler ever refers to Comorre as ‘ Barbe-bleue.’ Nor does the writer know of any very old story connecting the two. Daru, in his ‘ Histoire de Bretagne,’ published in 1826, refers, however, to the novelists (romanciers) who had conferred ‘a frightful immor- tality on Comorre under the name of Bluebeard.’ And in this connection the writer remembers having read in his youth (which was spent in France) an old novel which he has vainly endeavoured to trace recently. It was a two-volume work, issued either at the end of the eighteenth or early in the nineteenth century, and its title was ‘Le Roi Comor’ or some- thing very similar. No doubt it was one of the books referred to by Daru. The latter's statement COMORRE THE CURSED 105 at least shows that Comorre was associated with Bluebeard in his time—that is, in the twenties of the nineteenth century; and this is of some little interest, because various critics of more recent times have asserted that the two were first coupled in 1850, when certain paintings were brought to light in a chapel dedicated to St. Tryphine at St. Nicolas de Bieuzy,! which is in the immediate vicinity of St. Gildas’s oratory on the Blavet. These paintings were then said to be of the thirteenth or fifteenth century, and their discovery created quite a stir on account of their identity with the chief incidents of Perrault’s tale. They decorated the /améris of the chapel, the subject depicted in the first compartment being the marriage of Tryphine to a Breton lord (Comorre) whose beard was coloured a db/uzsh black ; next the husband was shown quitting his castle on some warlike expedition, and handing his wife a little key; and then appeared the mysterious chamber with the bodies of the murdered wives—seven in number— hanging in it. Afterwards came the terrible inter- rogatory, with Bluebeard scowling at his unhappy wife ; farther on, she was portrayed praying on her knees, while Sister Anne anxiously scanned the road from a little window. And finally, while the cruel husband was shown passing a noose round his wife’s neck, Tryphine’s brothers and St. Gildas appeared, the first ready to run their swords through Comorre’s body, and the last all anxiety to revive the victim. 1 ‘Bulletin archéologique de l’Association Bretonne,’ 1850, vol. il, p. 133. 106 BLUEBEARD Now, if these paintings—brought to light from under the ever-recurring coat of whitewash which has blotted out so much artistic work in churches all the world over—had really belonged to the thirteenth, or fifteenth, or sixteenth century, if they could even have been traced to the earlier part of the century in which Perrault wrote, they would have proved conclusively that he derived his famous tale from some adaptation of St. Tryphine’s story.!_ But those who first examined the paintings, and thought them very ancient, perhaps by reason of their damaged condition, were quite mistaken. Several years later the paintings were scrutinized by more competent persons, whose verdict was that they had been painted early in the eighteenth century. And sub- sequently, after various researches, M. Rosenzweig, the departmental archivist, ascertained the very year of their execution—1704.? Thus another legend has been swept away. In 1704 Perrault’s tales had been six or seven years in circulation. It is known that quite a furore arose when they first appeared ; that they were in demand on every side. The artist who executed the paint- ings at St. Nicolas must have been acquainted with them. Whatever his name, he was no peasant ; he came from a town, a city, where books were read ; 1 There is a quaint old Breton mystery in which she figures as a princess of Hybernia wedded to Arzur, the hero-king, and perse- cuted by her jealous brother, Kervoura. ‘Sainte Tryphine et le Roi Arthur,’ edited by F. M. Luzel. Quimperlé, 1863, 8vo. 2 Bossard, /.¢c, p. 402. From the ‘Statistiques archéologiques de l’Arrondissement de Pontivy,’ article on ‘ Napoléonville.’ COMORRE THE CURSED 107 and for some reason or other, on being called in to paint the legend of St. Tryphine, he depicted, in lieu thereof, the story of Perrault’s Bluebeard. Was it, then, his shocking audacity in this respect which subsequently led some indignant c#r¢ to cover the paintings over ? The course taken by the painter is, indeed, at the first glance, so suggestive of rank impudence as to make one pause. He may have been a sceptic. Indeed, his portrayal of Tryphine with a rope about her neck is strongly suggestive of scepticism. He declined to believe that the unlucky woman could be revived by St. Gildas after decapitation ; but he knew that people who are hanged may occasionally be cut down in time to have their lives saved. Thus, in Brittany of all places in the world, in one of its most superstitious regions, too, one finds a Voltairean spirit displaying itself at a time when Voltaire was only ten years old. But, however sceptical the painter may have been, he cannot have desired, he would not have dared, to insult his priestly patrons, from whom he expected payment for his work, by depicting something which had no relation whatever to the subject that he had been commissioned to treat. What had he been told of the legend of St. Tryphine before he started on his work? Assuredly he must have heard something which had brought ‘ Bluebeard’ to his mind. He must have had some basis to work on; he must at least have been told that Tryphine’s husband had killed several wives. Everything indicates, indeed, 108 BLUEBEARD that there were stories of Comorre current in the region at that time—1704—which suggested Per- rault’s tale. If one only knew what they were, one would probably be able to say whether Perrault did or did not derive his Bluebeard from some Comorre legend, told perchance by some Breton servant to his children; for it does not appear that he himself was ever in Brittany. So far as the writer has been able to ascertain, no legends of Comorre and Tryphine appear in M. Sébillot’s numerous books on the folk-lore of Upper Brittany; but in one volume! a ‘Bluebeard,’ or, rather, a ‘ Redbeard,’ story is to be found. Here we have a husband who has lost seven wives,? and lived ten years with the eighth, whom he at last hates to such a degree that one Sunday, on returning home from high Mass, he resolves to kill her. When he tells her his purpose she contrives to slip a note into the ear of a little dog, which she sends to fetch her brothers. And afterwards she asks permission to put on her wedding garments (as in the Vendean version of ‘ Bluebeard’), while her husband, taking his sabre, sings : ‘I’m sharpening, I’m sharpening my knife To kill my wife, who is upstairs.’ Then, as at intervals he calls to her to come down, 1 ‘Littérature Orale de la Haute-Bretagne,’ by P. Sébillot. Paris, 1881, 8vo. (‘ Barbe-Rouge,’ pp. 40-43). 2 The Bretons are very partial to the number seven. There are many tales of seven brothers, seven sisters, seven children, and so forth. COMORRE THE CURSED 109 she responds with various excuses : she has only just slipped on her petticoat; she is putting on her stockings ; she is combing her hair; she is looking for her large coif; she has only to put in another pin. And meantime she looks out of the window, and at last perceives several horsemen, to whom she makes signs. Redbeard hides in the corridor when the soldiers knock, but they find and kill him, and one of them ends by marrying the widow. Sébillot also gives a story of a giant with seven wives,’ the last of whom rids herself of her cruel husband with the help of a soldier. In this tale the giant is a magician who will always remain invulner- able unless a certain egg should be crushed on his breast. The egg is inside a pigeon, which is inside a hare, which is inside a wolf, which is inside the giant's brother, who lives some leagues away. When the wife has learnt the secret from her husband, she confides it to the soldier, who, after various adven- tures, secures the egg, which the lady duly crushes on her husband’s chest, with the result that he immediately expires. 7 This, however, is a tale of a familiar type (the egg business suggesting ‘ The Giant who had no Heart in his Body’), whilst Redbeard may be merely an adaptation of Perrault’s story. Thus one remains confronted by the tradition of the tyrant Comorre who killed many wives, and who became here a werewolf, and yonder the ferryman of hell. 1 *Contes Populaires de la MHaute-Bretagne.’ Paris, 1880 (No. 19, p. 61 ef seq.). rIO ' BLUEBEARD And the vox popult, so far as can be ascertained, having always pointed to Brittany as the original home of ‘ Bluebeard,’ it may be said in favour of those who picture Comorre as the prototype of Perrault’s ‘hero,’ that at the time when Perrault wrote, the Comorre legends were certainly far more familiar to the Breton peasantry than they are nowadays. And owing to the confusion between Conomor and Conober, the ‘ Miliguet,’ the cursed one, was regarded as a most bloodthirsty, in- human monster. MHagiologists, members of that Breton clergy with which he was so long at variance, had painted him in the blackest colours, making his crimes even worse than they really were. Chroniclers had taken the same line, and legends of horror and infamy had spread among the people. But before expressing any decided opinion upon Comorre’s connection with ‘ Bluebeard,’ it is pre- ferable to turn to another period and examine the claims of the second candidate to the odious honours, Gilles de Rais, a man by the side of whom Comorre might be accounted a saint. GILLES DE RAIS MARSHAL OF FRANCE 1404-1440 GILLES DE RAIS MARSHAL OF FRANCE I 1404-1424 DESCENT, PARENTAGE, POSSESSIONS, MARRIAGE, AND FIRST CAMPAIGNS The Descent of Gilles from the First Barons of Christendom— The Blood Royal of France—Genealogical Tables—The Ancient House of Rais—Jane the Sensible adopts Guy IT. de Laval—He assumes the Name and Arms of Rais—Birth of Gilles—His Education and Accomplishments—He loses his Parents—His Guardian, Jean de Craon—His Great Barony and other Possessions—His Successive Betrothals—His Fiancées all die—He turns to the Career of Arms—The English Invasion and the Civil War in France—The Struggle of Montfort and Penthiévre in Brittany— Duke Jean V., seeking Beautiful Damsels, is trapped and imprisoned—Gilles de Rais at the States-General of Brittany—The Duchess as Maria Theresa— The Penthiévres ravage Rais—Jean V.’s Curious Vows in his Captivity—Gilles raises Men and joins Alain de Rohan—The Penthiévres vanquished and the Duke released—Rewards for Gilles—He marries Katherine de Thouars and again takes the Field—The Penthiévres finally sentenced—Gilles assumes the Government of his Fiefs. GIL_Les, Baron of Rais, first and last of his name, sprang from four of the most illustrious houses of 8 114 BLUEBEARD medieval France. On the side of his father, Guy de Laval de Rais, he claimed descent from the Mont- morencys, the first Barons of Christendom ; whilst on the side of his mother, Marie de Craon, he could boast connection with the blood royal, for she descended from the famous Renaud of Nevers and Adela of France. Nor was that all; for Gilles’ grandfather, the renowned Brumor de Laval, had married the daughter of Clemence, sister of the immortal Bertrand du Guesclin. Again, Gilles’ mother represented not only the opulent house of Craon, but the doughty lords of Machecoul also, and was allied to the Thouars, the Beaucays, the Roche- forts, and the Beauvaus—all names which are written on splendid pages of French history. Finally Gilles could claim that some of the blood of the ancient house of Rais, whose wealth he inherited, flowed in his veins ; for Eustachie, only daughter of Chabot I., Baron of Rais, had married Gérard de Machecoul in the thirteenth century, and Girard Chabot IT. had, about the same period, espoused Jeanne de Craon ; whilst Jeanne la Folle, the ‘ Crazy Jane of Rais ’— a grand-daughter of Gérard Chabot III. and Marte de Parthenay—had afterwards become the wife of Foulques de Laval. Thus Montmorency-Laval, Rais, Craon, and Machecoul all met in Gilles and his younger brother, who became known as René de La Suze, from property in Maine which had come to his mother’s family by matrimonial alliance. ’ To Gilles as Baron of Rais one might have applied, with the alteration of one word, the famous GILLES DE RAIS 115 GENEALOGY OF GILLES DE RAIS. I.—HOUSE OF LAVAL. Guy DE MONTMORENCY, Sixth of the name ; called ‘of Zava/.’ Younger son of Mathieu II., Lord of Montmorency and Constable of France. Guy DE Lavat VII. | Guy DE Lava VIII. | Guy DE Lava IX. Brother of FouLQUES DE LavaL, who married Jeanne la Folle (‘Crazy Jane’) of Rats, who died 1358, and had: (Junior, or ‘ Brumor’ Branch). Guy DE Lavat I., called BRUMOR. Married: (1) Jeanne de Montmorency ; (2) Tiphaine, daughter of the Chevalier de Husson and of Clémence, sister of Bertrand Du GUuESCLIN, Constable of France. | Guy DE Lavat II., pe Rals. T 1415. Adopted by Jeanne la Sage (‘ Jane the Sensible’) of Rais, which name he takes; married, 1404, Marie de Craon. GILLES be RAIS. RENE DE LA SUZE. 1404-1440. Tt 1474. Married Katherine Married Anne de de Thouars, by whom Champagne, by whom he had : he had: MARIE DE RAIS. JEANNE DE LAVAL. Married Married Francois de (1) Prégent de Coétivy, Chauvigny, Prince _,. Admiral of France, of Déols. became Baron of Rais. | (2) André de Laval, ANDRE DE CHAUVIGNY, Lord of Lohéac, Prince of Déols. Admiral and Marshal T 1520. No Issue. of France. No Issue. 8—2 116 BLUEBEARD lines subsequently addressed to Austria, when, through the marriages of the children of Maxi- milian I., Bohemia, Moravia, and Hungary fell to the house of Hapsburg : ‘ Bella gerant alii, tu felix Radesia nube ; Nam quz Mars aliis, dat tibi regna Venus.’ For the vast estates of which Gilles became possessed were not the fruits of feudal warfare ; they had been gathered together mostly by the marriages of his forerunners. His father, Guy de Montmorency- Laval, Knight and Lord of Blaison and Chemillé in Anjou, acquired great wealth by a curious combina- tion of circumstances. The last Baron of Rais, Chabot V., had died childless, and the ancient house had but one representative left, Jane the Sensible (Jeanne la Sage), whose marriage with Jean de Parthenay had been annulled on the ground of consanguinity, and who had no hope of children. She therefore cast her eyes upon her cousin Guy de Laval, but the mere tie of relationship did not entitle him to succeed to her property ; for a decree of disherison had fallen on his grandmother, the Crazy Jane of Rais, on account of a love match she had made with a mere squire, Jean de la Musse, prior to her marriage with Foulques de Laval, a decree barring her rights and those of all her ‘ descendants to the barony of Rais. Only a special act of adoption on the part of the last heiress of Rais could give Guy de Laval the rights which that decree had annulled. Jane the Sensible expressed her desire to adopt him, and indeed, in 1401, she did so, solemnly GILLES DE RAIS 117 GENEALOGY OF GILLES DE RAIS. II.—HOUSE OF RAIS. [Old Line. | GarRSIRE. Living in 1161. HARCOUET or ARCOIT. f 1190. GARSIRE or GARSILE, 1220-1225. RaouL. bagy-t 248. Married Francoise Salvagie de la Motte-Achard, by whom he had issue one daughter, Eustachie, who married (1254) Girard CHABOT, younger brother of Thibaud Chabot, Lord of Aulnes and Rocheservitre. | [Mew Line.] CuapotT I. 1254-1264. GODEFROY, GIRARD uazor Il. EuSTACHIE, Lord of 1265-1298. Md. Gérard La Maurietre. Married : de Machecoul. x. Emma de Chateaugonthier. (Table III.) 2. Jeanne de Craon (tf 1264). 3. Marguerite des Barres (¢ 1289). By the second he had: | | Raoul. GERARD Cuapor III. Guillaume. No issue. 1298-1 336. No issue. Married Marie de Parthenay. Gérard Chabot, eldest son, died before his father. Married Katherine de Laval, and had: | | JEANNE LA FOLLE. GERARD CuHasoT IV. Married Foulques de Laval. 1337-1344. See Table I. Md. Philippe Bertrande de Rouxeuille- | JEANNE LA SAGE. GERARD CHABOT V., 1371-1406. ‘The Posthumous.’ Her marriage annulled. t+ 1351; married Adopted Guy de Laval II., Marguerite de Sancerre. oO issue. father of GILLES De Rais. 118 BLUEBEARD acknowledging him to be her heir, on the express con- dition, however, that he should renounce the name and arms of Laval and assume for himself and his descendants those of Rais. In default thereof Jeanne chose as her successor Jean, son of Katherine de Machecoul and Pierre de Craon, Lord of La Suze in Maine, and of Ingrandes and Champtocé on the borders of Brittany and Anjou. But Guy de Laval did not for a moment think of refusing an inheritance which would so largely increase his fortune. On September 23, 1401, he accepted the stipulated condition, and on the last day of the month relinquished the name and arms of Montmorency- Laval, and took the name and arms of Rais, those arms being or with a cross sable.} For some reason or other—none of the writers on the subject have been able to account for it—Jane quarrelled with the successor whom she had chosen, and in his stead selected another and rather more distant cousin, the Katherine de Machecoul who has been previously mentioned, and who was now ( May, 1402) a widow with one son. Guy, the first chosen heir, was indignant at this alteration, and cited Katherine and her son Jean de Craon before the Parliament of Paris in order that the provisions in their favour might be set aside. It would appear that the lawsuit was for a time conducted with great bitterness by all parties, but a settlement 1 *Gilles de Rais,’ etc., by Abbé Bossard. See fost, Ap- pendix C, on the Montfaucon Portrait of Gilles. GILLES DE RAIS 119 GENEALOGY OF GILLES DE RAIS. III.— HOUSE OF MACHECOUL. RAOUL DE MACHECOUL. t 1160. BERNARD. AIMERY. OLIviER I. OuivieR II. + 1264. | OuiviEr III. GERARD. Married Eustachie, daughter of Chabot I. of Rais (Table ITI.) by whom he had three children. | GERARD. Married Aliette de Thouars. Louis. Lord of La Bénaste and Le Coustumier. Married Jeanne de Beaucay. KATHERINE DE MACHECOUL. Married Pierre de Craon (Table IV.) ; had three children of whom Jean was father of Marie de Craon, the mother of GILLES DE RAIS. 120 BLUEBEARD was eventually effected on the basis of a marriage between Guy and Jean de Craon’s only daughter, Marie. All rights to the barony of Rais were ceded to the former, and the wedding was celebrated on February 5, 1404.! Of this marriage two children were born: first Gilles de Rais, and secondly his brother René. There was formerly considerable controversy as to the date of the former’s birth, many authorities suggesting the year 1396, and others 1406 ; but Abbé Bossard has fully established the fact that Gilles came into the world at the castle of Machecoul in September or October, 1404,? a date which shows that he evinced extraordinary precocity in his youth, marrying at the age of sixteen, acquiring military skill and almost renown before a score of years had passed over his head, and attaining to the exalted rank of Marshal of France when he was only five-and-twenty. Two years after his birth Jeanne la Sage of Rais departed this life, and her territories passed to Gilles’ father, of whose subsequent career not much is known. It is difficult even to say how Gilles and René were educated, though we have it on record that both were very talented. Gilles spoke Latin - elegantly, and cultivated several of the arts. We find him in after-life illuminating manuscripts, and preparing enamels, with which he enriched the bindings of his books; we see him studying science, cultivating music, initiating, and perhaps helping to 1 *Généalogie deg plus illustres Maisons de Bretagne,’ Du Paz. 2 Bossard /.¢., pp. 5-8. GILLES DE RAIS esate GENEALOGY OF GILLES DE RAIS. IV.—HOUSE OF CRAON. Renavup I., Count oF NEVERS. Married ADELE OF FRANCE. ROBERT DE NEVERS, Called Lord of Craon. Married Avoise de Sablé. RENAUD I., Called the Burgundian, Lord of Craon. AMAURY, or Maurice I. DE CRAON. Married Tiphaine de Champtocé and d’Ingrandes. HUuGUuEs. Maurice II. Amaury II. Maurice IV. MaurRIce V. Maurice VI. | Amaury ITI. Married Béatrix de Roucy, Lady of La Suze. PIERRE DE CRAON. Lord of La Suze, Ingrandes and Champtocé. Married Katherine de Machecoul (Table ITII.). | Pierre. Jeanne. T 1415. M. (1) Ingerger d’Amboise II. No issue. (2) Pierre de Beauvau. JEAN DE CRAON. Lord of La Suze, etc. Married Béatrix de Rochefort, and had one daughter, Marie de Craon, wife of Guy de Laval de Rais, and mother of GILLES DE Rals. 122 BLUEBEARD compose, theatrical mysteries and moralities—to say nothing of an alleged treatise on the Art of Evoking the Devil. Thus, he certainly had many gifts in addition to the brilliant courage and the military coup a etl which, at an early age, brought him to the front as a captain. Oneso gifted surely ought to have left behind him a name of eminence, instead of one asso- ciated with crime and turpitude. Alas! in our own time we have seen the fall of a man of culture and high literary talent, who ended ignominiously, from lack of moral principles. As for Gilles de Rais, there was doubtless great truth in the words which he spoke when he stood at the bar of justice : ‘Fathers and mothers, all ye who hear me! Keep yourselves, I entreat you, from all lax rearing of your children! For my part, if I have committed so many and such great crimes, the reason is that in my youth I was always allowed to do as I listed and follow the bent of my desires.’ Those are words for every age, and well may they be applied to ours ; for in no period of civili- zation can one find such an absence of parental control and guidance as is nowadays manifest among virtually every class of the community. Gilles, unfortunately, lost his father when he was only eleven years old ; and his mother soon after- wards married Charles d’Estouteville, Lord of Villebon, in such wise that her children were re- moved from her control. Guy de Rais, prior to his death in October, 1415, had evidently feared for the future of his young children, as is evidenced by his ‘SIVA 3d SATII 40 BOVMHIMIE AHL “TAODTHOVK GILLES DE RAIS 123 will, in which he appoints a distant relative, Jean de Tournemine, Lord of La Hunaudaye and husband of his ‘dear cousin de Saffré,’ as ‘guardian and defender of his sons and heirs, Gilles and René, and legitimate administrator of their estates.’ In the ordinary course of things one might have expected that their guardianship would have been entrusted to their mother’s father, Jean de Craon, but the latter was old and prone perhaps to extreme indulgence. Thus Abbé Bossard may be right in suggesting that Guy feared the result of confiding the boys to their grandfather, and preferred to select a younger and stronger-minded guardian. In some way or other his plans were frustrated. A few months after Guy’s death Jean de Tournemine dis- appears from the scene—perhaps he died, or was unwilling to discharge his office — in any case, the boys passed into the care of their maternal grandfather. A memorial with respect to Gilles’ property, drawn up a year or two after his death, says: ‘After the demise of the said Messire Guy de Rais, father of the said Messire Gilles, this Messire Gilles remained a minor, and of tender years (das age), under the guardianship (4a2z/)' and rule of the said Messire Jehan de Craon, his maternal grand- father, who was old and ancient, and of exceeding great age (szc).’* 1 * Bail—tutelle, tuteur.’ (Ducange’s ‘Glossaire Francois.’) 2 ‘Mémoire des Heéritiers de Gilles de Rais,’ folio 6, recto (cited by Bossard). See gost, footnote, p. 140. 124 BLUEBEARD ‘Moreover, every original document, pertaining to Gilles’ career, in which mention is made of Jean de Craon, describes the latter as aged, weak, and indulgent. Yet what we know of his public life shows him to have been a man of considerable acumen, entrusted at times with important political duties; and the truth would seem to be that, on finding himself the guardian of two high-spirited and perhaps self-willed boys, his destined heirs, he proved a doting grandfather, while still remaining a man of good counsel and even energy in affairs of state, one on whose assistance the Duke of Brittany could rely in difficult circumstances. Briefly, he must have been one of those men, by no means rare, whose private and whose public life are in some respects contradictory. One of the very first matters to which Jean de Craon gave attention, when Gilles and René de Rais became his wards, was the finding of a wife for the former. Gilles was a first-rate partz, for on reaching his majority he would come into possession of the great bulk of his father’s property, besides eventually succeeding to most of Jean de Craon’s wealth ; for René, being a younger son, was entitled to comparatively little. It would be very difficult, if not impossible, to enumerate all the possessions of Gilles at the outset of his career; but some idea of their extent may be gleaned from a few available data. For instance there was first the barony of Rais itself—the senior barony of Brittany—a great stretch of country, bounded on the north by the GILLES DE RAIS 125 Loire, on the west by the Atlantic Ocean ; and ex- tending on the east to the farther shore of the Lac de Grandlieu, and on the south to the frontier of Poitou. The isle of Bouin likewise formed part of the territory of Rais. Machecoul, which had previously belonged to another house, but was now included in the barony, was the principal fortress of the region, which also numbered the castellanies of Légé and St. Etienne de Mer-Morte on the south, Bourgneuf and Pornic on the western coast, and Vué near the Loire, whilst, in the interior, were Pringay, La Bénate, and Prigny or Prigné. The barony had long been regarded as the key of Brittany on its southern side, for Poitou and Brittany as semi-independent States had more than once been at war together. The soil was very fertile ; the salt marshes on the coast yielded considerable revenues; while there was abundant plough-land and forest- land on the banks of the Loire and in the direction of Poitou and the Vendean Bocage. It is thought that the region derived its name from a Gallic city, Ratiastum or Ratiatum, the exact site of which has not been ascertained. In the Latin of the Middle Ages the barony is called Radesia and Radesie, and in French Raiz, Rays, Rayx, and Rais. Abbé Bossard, who is here followed, states that Rais was the prevailing form in the time of Gilles. It was only in 1581, when the barony was raised to the rank of a duchy in favour of the Gondi family, with which Gilles had no connection whatever, that the - modern spelling, Retz, was introduced. 126 BLUEBEARD But this great tract of country was not the only possession of the fortunate Gilles. From his father and his maternal grandfather—we here slightly anticipate events—he inherited the lands and lord- ships of Fontaine-Milon and Grattecuisse, the lands and castles of Blaison, Chemillé, Briollay, and Loroux-Bottereau—all in Anjou; the lands and castles of Champtocé and Ingrandes, on the borders of Anjou and Brittany; the lands and lordships of Ambriéres, St. Aubin-de-Fosse- Louvain, La Voulte, and Sénéché, in Maine; and of Auzence, Cloué, Lignon, La Mauriére, and Breuil-Magnon, with the stronghold of La Motte Achard, in Poitou; besides the castles of Verriéres and Treilliéres in Brittany, ° a house at Angers, and a splendid mansion, the ‘Hétel de La Suze,’ at Nantes; whilst he even levied certain tolls on the Loire, and a charge on the revenues of the ducal forest of Broceliande. Owner of or heir to all those lordships, lands, and castles, the youthful Gilles could surely have no difficulty in finding a damsel of high degree willing to place her hand in his. Jean de Craon looked about him, and on January 14, 1417, when his ward was only thirteen, he betrothed him to a Norman maiden, Jeanne, daughter of Foulques Peynel, Lord of Hambuie and Bricquebec. But no marriage ensued, for Jeanne Peynel ded. Then Jean de Craon again looked around, and this time a splendid alliance was arranged. A contract of marriage was prepared between Gilles, Baron de Rais, and Béatrix, the eldest daughter of Alain IX., Viscount de Rohan GILLES DE RAIS 127 and Count de Porhoét, by his wife Marguerite, daughter of Duke Jean IV. of Brittany. It was a seemly match. The houses of Rohan and Laval were already distantly allied, through the marriage of a daughter of the famous Olivier de Clisson and Katherine de Laval with Alain VIII. of Rohan. Thus the contract was signed at Vannes in the presence of the most illustrious members of the Breton #odlesse on November 28, 1418. But, before there could be any wedding, Béatrix de Rohan, like Jeanne Peynel, died. Some legendary accounts of Gilles de Rais say that his grandfather chose two or three other jancées in turn, and that all were thus snatched away. In Italy, in such a case, people would have regarded both grandfather and grandson as possessed of the evil eye. In Brittany and the adjacent province of La Vendée, these numerous alleged betrothals, always followed by the death of the /fancées, gave rise, in later days, to the tradition that Gilles had been married repeatedly, and that all his brides, save the last, had mysteriously disappeared. In that one legend alone lay the germ of a ‘ Bluebeard’ story. But tradition, in all likelihood, exaggerated the facts, as it often does. One may admit the possibility of Jean de Craon having sought other brides for his grandson, between the two girls who have been mentioned and the one who ultimately became the young man’s wife; but, if so, history has not preserved their names. In the interval, moreover, Jean de Craon, as will be shown, had oe 128 BLUEBEARD other and most important cares; whilst Gilles turned to that career of arms in which his grand- father Brumor de Laval and his great grand-uncle Bertrand du Guesclin had previously achieved renown. It was not, however, in order to charge the English that the youth first learnt to couch his lance, though they, at this time (1419), had been prosecuting the conquest of France for some years. And here, in order that the times in which Gilles lived may be understood, it is as well to recall a few famous historical events. Henry V. of England had landed in Normandy for the first time in August, 1415, Agincourt had followed in October of that year; then the English King had returned in 1417, and by the middle of the autumn had subjugated all Lower Normandy. France was torn by dissensions ; plunged into civil war by the rivalry of Jean-sans-Peur (John the Fearless) of Burgundy and Bernard VII. of Armagnac, the Constable of Charles VI., that sorry King who had lost his reason, largely if not entirely in consequence of the frantic debauchery which had marked his earlier years, notably at the time of a certain progress that he had made through the South of France, when he had abandoned him- self to excesses which had wrecked his frame and impaired his intellect. Isabeau of Bavaria, his wife, the memory of whose chaste and virginal beauty at the time of her marriage is perpetuated by a painting now in the galleries of the Louvre, GILLES DE RAIS 129 had been polluted by her surroundings, and had taken to courses similar to those of the King. Removed from power by Bernard d’Armagnac, she had escaped his control, and entered into an alliance with Jean-sans-Peur, although the latter was the murderer of her first and most notorious lover, Louis d’Orleans, brother of the King, her husband. And in May, 1418, the Burgundians had made themselves masters of Paris. Bernard VII., dis- guised as a beggar, had sought a refuge with some poor citizen who had delivered him to his enemies. The Armagnacs of the capital had then been butchered, and Charles, the Dauphin and heir of France, had fled to Bourges (June 21, 1418)—all this occurring while the English were making steady progress. Jean V., Duke of Brittany—which State had remained virtually neutral both in the great inter- necine struggle and the war with the English— had twice endeavoured to patch up an agreement and alliance between the contending factions of France, in order that they might present a united front to the invaders; but his efforts had proved fruitless. Thus Henry V. had taken Rouen, and made himself master of the whole of Normandy. There had been conferences, in which Henry had demanded the hand of Katherine, the young and handsome daughter of Charles VI. and Isabeau. And meanwhile the Dauphin, with Tanguy-Duchatel as his Maréchal des guerres, had carried on a desul- tory warfare, occasionally with detachments of the 9 130 BLUEBEARD invaders, but chiefly against the partisans of the Duke of Burgundy. Further attempts at a recon- ciliation between the latter and the heir of France had come to nothing. Finally the Duke had been murdered at Montereau (September, 1419), to the great profit and advantage of the English King, who, by the terms of a treaty between himself, Charles VI., and Philip the Good, the new ruler of Burgundy, covenanted to avenge the death of John the Fearless. It was at this time that the Dauphin betook himself to Languedoc in the hope of ensur- ing its fidelity to his cause, while civil war suddenly broke out in Brittany, as the result of the revival of ancient feuds—a revival brought about by the action of the Dauphin himself. Even as France had been torn asunder by the struggle between Burgundy and Armagnac, so Brittany, indeed, had long been rent by the con- tentions of the houses of Montfort and Penthiévre. Duke Artus II., who died in 1312, had been twice married, and the century-old feud had originated in the rival pretensions of the children of his two wives. There had been wars, attended by various changes of fortune, women on both sides embittering and prolonging the struggle. At times the Penthiévre branch had seemed to triumph in the person of Charles de Blois, the husband of its heiress; but Jean de Montfort, thanks to Chandos, was victorious at Auray, and thereby secured recognition as the sole sovereign Duke of Brittany. Yet Penthiévre did not entirely disarm; and when Olivier de Clisson, GILLES DE RAIS 131 Constable of France, who at the outset had been a partisan of the house of Montfort, gave his daughter Marguerite in marriage to Jean, son of Charles de Blois, the feud acquired fresh force. Marguerite brought up her four sons in hatred of the Montforts, married the eldest, Olivier de Blois, to a daughter of Jean-sans-Peur of Burgundy, and was at one moment hopeful that the latter would place his son-in-law in possession of the Breton throne. In the result Jean V. of Brittany—of the Montfort line—ravaged many of the domains of the Penthiévres (1409), and brought English auxiliaries into the duchy to help him to maintain his authority, by which means Marguerite and her sons were temporarily restrained from urging their claims, though their ambition re- mained as great as ever. It so happened that throughout this long struggle the ancestors of Gilles de Rais had supported the cause of the Penthiévres. The Lords of Machecou! and Rais, who belonged to South Brittany—and those of Laval, who were allied to them by blood— had fought, side by side with Charles de Blois, Du Guesclin and Clisson, against the Montforts, who had recruited their partisans chiefly in the northern and eastern parts of the duchy. But when young Gilles stepped upon the scene, in 1420, circum- stances had changed, and one finds him, with most of the old adherents of the Penthiévres, ranged on the side of Montfort against the heirs of Charles de Blois. The fact is a treacherous plot had been devised 9—2 132 BLUEBEARD against Duke Jean V. by Marguerite de Blois, act- ing in conjunction with the Dauphin. The latter, as Regent of France, had applied to Duke Jean for a military contingent to assist him, less in fighting the English than in contending with the Burgun- dians; and the Duke, who had previously striven to reconcile the contending factions of France, had not complied with the royal demand. The Dauphin was anxious to revenge himself, and as he could not do so personally by force of arms, he resorted to a stratagem. He gave Marguerite de Blois sealed letters, recognising as legitimate the claims of her house to Brittany, and authorizing Olivier de Blois, Count de Penthiévre, her son, to seize and hold the person of Duke Jean, he having shown himself to bea rebel and enemy of the kingdom by his refusal to succour his liege lord. The Duke was trapped. At that time he did not suspect the machinations of the Penthiévres, who feigned all friendship and loyalty ; and when Olivier, on his mother’s behalf, invited him to their castle of Champtoceaux on the Loire, near Ancenis, barely two days’ ride from Nantes, he repaired thither in all confidence. The Duke was young (about one- and-thirty), with fair hair and attractive features— ‘a right handsome and amorous prince,’ says one of the old chroniclers; and Marguerite de Blois, it seems, proposed to lure him into captivity by pro- mising him the society of some ‘young, beautiful and lively damsels."1 Indeed, to quote another old 1 *Preuves de I’Histoire de Bretagne,’ etc., by Dom Morice, vol. i., p. 476. GILLES DE RAIS 133 chronicler, on being asked to repair to Champto- ceaux, he was told that he would find there ‘a gracious banquet, and would be served by the most comely damsels he could wish for, and would have right pleasant pastime ; to which the Duke willingly condescended.”! But by an artful stratagem Duke Jean was sepa- rated from his escort. On approaching Champ- toceaux it was necessary to cross a wooden bridge, thrown over a little river, La Divatte. Olivier de Blois had caused the planks of this bridge to be loosened, and, on reaching it with the Duke, he began to jest about its bad condition. As it was impossible to ride across, Olivier, Jean V., and the latter’s younger brother, Richard, with one or two servants, dismounted, taking their way on foot over the loose planks. Then, before the ducal escort could follow, some of Olivier’s men, still jesting, flung the boards into the water. Thus the Duke could not retreat, nor could his guards join him. And now, instead of ‘young, beautiful, and lively damsels’ and ‘right pleasant pastime,’ Jean V. found himself confronted by Olivier’s brother Charles, with forty horsemen, who carried him to a dungeon, and provided him with coarse fare in lieu of ‘a gracious banquet.’ Had he thought more of his devoted wife arid less of the belles damoyselles, he might have escaped this unpleasant adventure ; but it would be difficult 1 * Les Grandes Cronicques,’ etc., by Alain Bouchard. 134 BLUEBEARD to name any prince of that age who really had any inclination to conjugal fidelity. Brittany, however, rose at the news of its Duke’s imprisonment, and on February 23, 1420, we find Gilles de Rais, with his grandfather, Jean de Craon, attending the States-General of the duchy and swearing on the cross to employ their bodies and their estates, and to give their whole hearts and even the last drop of their blood to effect the deliverance of their prince. Duke Jean's wife, Jeanne of France, sister of the Dauphin, appeared before the States in tears, with her two young children beside her, and spoke to the Breton nobles, even as, some centuries later, Maria Theresa spoke to the magnates of Hungary. And the Breton nobles acclaimed her, vowed to die for her, and promised her every assistance. The young Lord of Rais arose, and offered money and men; Alain de Rohan was appointed Lieutenant-General ; and it was settled that an Embassy should proceed to England to beg the release of the Duke's brother, the gallant young Artus de Richemont, who had been a prisoner there since Agincourt, in order that Brittany might have the advantage of his services in this hour of trial. The Duchess Jeanne wrote personally to Henry V., entreating him at least to lend her Artus for a time, if he would not release him altogether. | But the Penthiévres, full of hope, and relying on the promises of the Dauphin, who was now in Languedoc, invaded and ravaged the barony of Rais GILLES DE RAIS 135 and the possessions of Jean de Craon, south of the Loire, whilst carrying the unhappy Duke of Brittany and his brother from castle to castle in Anjou, Poitou, and even Saintonge. Duke Jean showed no great courage, it is said, but he had reason to fear the worst from his captors, in whom was per- sonified the hatred of a hundred years. And thus it is not surprising that he should have offered to consent to anything provided that his life were spared. Further, that in return for salvation on earth, he should have vowed to make the most costly presents to famous shrines, to give his weight in gold to the church of the Carmelites at Nantes, and his weight in silver to St. Yves of Tréguier, and even to go on pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre, was, after all, but natural in that age, when super- stition was still so prevalent. More practical, per- haps, was his promise (of the piecrust variety) that he would never more ask his subjects for subsidies if they would only deliver him. They certainly made all efforts to do so, and if the Penthiévres carried the Duke—tied to a horse and half starving —from castle to castle, night being the time selected for these journeys, it was in order to deceive and elude his partisans. A force of 50,000 Bretons, it is asserted, had responded to the call of Alain de Rohan. Among the leading contributors to that host was young Gilles de Rais, who marched at the head of his own levies and his grandfather's vassals. The strength of the force equipped at his expense, the splendour 136 BLUEBEARD of his armour and equipage, the gallantry displayed by this boy in his sixteenth year, attracted universal attention. Flatterers already flocked around him and fanned his ambition and vanity. While the barony of Rais was being ravaged, and Gilles’ castle of La Motte-Achard in Poitou fell into the hands of the enemy, the latter's strong- holds of Lamballe and Guingamp were besieged. Both ultimately surrendered, and then La Roche- Derrien, Jugon, Chateaulin, and Broon in like manner opened their gates. Finally the partisans of Jean V. directed all their efforts against Champ- toceaux, to which fortress Marguerite de Clisson had at last retired with her family and the captive Duke. She ended by capitulating and surrendering - her prisoner, though some accounts say that she only did so by the advice of the Dauphin, who had - thrown her over. At all events, on July 5, 1420, her son Jean, Sire de l’Aigle, came forth from Champtoceaux in all humility, and handed the Duke of Brittany over to his subjects. Marguerite and her forces, to whom the honours of war had been accorded, were suffered to depart ; and Duke Jean V., having issued orders that the fortress should be razed to the ground, made a triumphal entry into Nantes. In the rejoicings which ensued there was no more conspicuous personage than the youthful Gilles de Rais, all splendour and prodigality. Various confiscated lands were assigned, by way of recompense, to him and Jean de Craon, the Duke declaring that he knew not how,to requite their GILLES DE RAIS 137 services ;1 and in some respects the proffered rewards were excessive, for the Breton Parliament, while acknowledging the good and loyal conduct of Rais and La Suze (as Jean de Craon was called), remonstrated, and, eventually, annual charges on various revenues were granted in lieu of territory— of which, assuredly, both Gilles and his grandfather already had quite enough. In that same hour of victory a wife was found for the young Sire de Rais. On the limits of Poitou and Brittany, near the boundaries of his own foefs, were several large and rich domains destined to pass into the possession of a girl of high lineage, an only child, who was of much the same age as Gilles. This girl was Katherine de Thouars, daughter of Miles de Thouars and Béatrix de Montjean. And her inheritance comprised the important and wealthy barony of Tiffauges, and the lordship and castle of Pouzauges, both in La Vendée; with Savenay in Brittany, near the Loire, between Nantes and St. Nazaire ; Grez-sur-Maine ; and Confolens, Chaba- nais, Chateaumorant, Lombert, and other lordships in Poitou. Young Gilles, on his side a high-born and wealthy noble, who, however few his years, had already borne himself gallantly in the wars, and had been complimented and rewarded by the Duke of Brittany, was regarded as a very fit suitor for Katherine’s hand. He was promptly accepted, and the marriage was celebrated on the last day of 1 « Cartulaire des Sires de Rais,’ Nos. 16 and 249. See note, Pp. 140. 138 BLUEBEARD November, 1420, Gilles then being rather more than sixteen years of age—not fourteen, as Vallet de Viriville surmised.! But the Penthiévres, though sorely worsted, were not yet absolutely crushed. On being summoned to appear and answer for their conduct before the States of Brittany, which again assembled at Vannes about the end of 1420—both Gilles and his grand- father attending as councillors of the duchy—they entered no appearance, Jean V., indulgently enough, prorogued the States twice in order that the leaders of the vanquished faction might attend; but they either disdained or feared to do so. Thereupon, at the last meeting of the States, February 25, 1421, all their property in Brittany was confiscated, to be divided by the Duke among his relations and friends. To carry the decree into full effect, it was once more necessary to appeal to arms. Gilles de Rais there- fore quitted his bride to attach himself, with the Lords of Rohan, Rieux, and Laval, to the person of Artus de Richemont, whom Henry V. of England? had released on parole. However, Clisson and Les Essarts, the two strongholds remaining to the Perithiévres, were very speedily reduced, and the 1 * Histoire de Charles VII.,’ etc., by Vallet de Viriville. Paris, 1863, vol. ii., p. 412. 2 They were almost related, for Artus de Richemont, like Duke Jean V., was the son of Jeanne de Navarre by her first husband, the Duke of Brittany, after whose death she became the second wife of our Henry IV. By her influence with her stepson (Henry V.) the captivity of her son, Artus de Richemont, in England was made supportable. d z z s ie 8 £ 8 q a 3 3 GILLES DE RAIS 139 duchy of Brittany was then for ever lost to that tenaciously ambitious house. On February 16, 1422, the Breton Parliament! declared the Penthiévres to be guilty of felony, treason, and /se-mazesté ; con- demned them to decapitation, and ordered that their heads should be set in turn upon the gates of Nantes, Rennes, and Vannes; excluded them and their de- scendants in perpetuity from all honours in the duchy ; prohibited them from bearing the name and arms of Brittany, and once again pronounced the confiscation of all their belongings. They escaped death by avoiding Breton territory, to which—as a price was set upon their heads—they never returned. But if war was in this wise brought to an end in Brittany, it still raged in France, where the Dauphin, with little apparent hope of success, was struggling against the victorious English. In that struggle Gilles de Rais was to take part after the lapse of a few more years, which he doubtless spent in Brittany, Anjou, and Poitou, leading for the most part a life of pleasure, and contracting habits of prodigality. At least this is the only inference to be drawn from certain passages in a document which has: been previously cited—the ‘Mémoire’ of his heirs after his death. In one part of it we read: ‘The said Messire Gilles .. . by the inducement and counsel of certain of his servants and others, who desired to enrich themselves with his wealth, 1 Not a legislature but a court of justice, which (as shown on p- 137) had the right of remonstrating when the ducal edicts were against the common weal. 140 BLUEBEARD did take unto himself the government of all his lands.’ Further on, this statement is repeated and | emphasised. We are told that Gilles was ‘so swayed by the falsity, craft, and malice of his ser- vants that he took in hand the rule and management of his lands and lordships; and from that moment did with them as he pleased, without seeking the advice of his grandfather, or listening to him further in any respect.’ He is said to have been twenty, or thereabouts, at this time, but it is virtually cer- tain that he was a year or two younger. As a noble he would probably have attained his majority on reaching his eighteenth birthday. That he found himself in very bad hands is repeatedly evidenced by the ‘Mémoire.’ For instance, nothing could be more significant than these words: ‘ He was ever pressed by the counsel and the exhortations of those who were around him, and who wished to enrich themselves at his cost.’ And again: ‘He was seduced by the false craft and damnable covetous- ness of his servants.’! Unfortunately, we have no precise information respecting his doings at this period, which must have strongly influenced his subsequent life. Sur- rounded by parasites and flatterers, he disappears from view, and only comes into prominence again when he has nearly completed his twenty-first year. 1 ‘Mémoire des Héritiers,’ etc., and Letters Patent of Charles VII. under date January 13, 1446, in the ‘ Cartulaire des Sires de Rais’ (now at Serrant), published by M. Paul Marchegay in the ‘ Revue des Provinces de l'Ouest,’ Nantes, 1853-6. Il 1425—1434-5- THE PATH OF GLORY—GILLES AND JOAN OF ARC— THE CLOSE OF GILLES’ MILITARY CAREER The Anglo-French War—Cravant and Verneuil—Gilles at St. James-de-Beuvron—Malestroit, Chancellor of Brittany—Gilles at Rainefort, Malicorne and Le Lude—The French chased by Talbot—The Crisis of Charles VII.’s Fortunes—The Royal Favourite, La Trémouille—The Maid of Orleans—Joan and Gilles—A Curious Compact—The Relief of Orleans—The Fight at Patay—The Coronation at Rheims—Gilles created Marshal of France—He escorts the Holy Oil—Charles VII. and Joan of Arc—The March on Paris—Gilles and the Maid at the Attack on the St. Honoré Gate—The Withdrawal to the Loire—The Arms of France granted to Gilles—His Associa- tion with the Maid—His Expedition to Louviers—His Presence at Beauvais and Lagny—He fights at Sillé and Conlie—His Withdrawal from Active Command—His Military Services and the Historians. THE years during which one loses sight of Gilles de Rais were gloomy ones for France and the French monarchy. The death of Henry V. of England on August 31, 1422, and that of the wretched Charles VI. towards the end of the following month of October, in no wise tended to improve the circumstances of the unlucky King of Bourges, as the Dauphin- 142 BLUEBEARD regent was derisively called. John of Lancaster, Duke of Bedford, governed the northern provinces of France on behalf of the infant Henry VI.; and the English work of conquest proceeded steadily, helped by the alliance with Burgundy, into which unholy compact Brittany seemed likely to enter; for Duke Jean V. was sorely embittered against the Dauphin, who, contrary to repeated promises, had failed to dismiss from his council and court the various personages compromised in the enterprise of the Penthiévres. Thus, at the moment when Henry V. was near his death, Breton ambassadors arrived in Paris, and a little later arrangements were made with Bedford, by which Brittany engaged to help the English to secure possession of La Rochelle. The Dauphin, however, heard of what was brewing, and, in his anxiety—for La Rochelle was the only port by which he could communicate with his allies of Scot- land and Castille—he hurried to that city, and placed it in a state of defence. The Anglo-Breton designs were frustrated ; and when the royal levies of Sain- tonge found that a Breton force had crossed the frontier, they attacked and defeated it at Montaigu (October, 1422), driving it back into the neighbour- ing barony of Rais. It is not known whether Gilles was present on that occasion, but the geographical position of his territory points to the conclusion that the measures against La Rochelle were concerted there.! 1 Massiou’s ‘Histoire de Saintonge,’ vol. ii, part 2, p. 26: ; Thibaudeau’s ‘ Histoire de Poitou,’ vol. 11., p. 4. GILLES DE RAIS 143 In spite of the failure of that enterprise, Brittany and England remained on good terms, and it seemed more probable than ever that the former would give the latter active support, especially as about Easter, 1423, Artus de Richemont, brother of the Breton Duke, wedded one of the two daughters of the Duke of Burgundy, her sister at the same time being espoused by Bedford. Thus the position of the Dauphin-regent, or Charles VII., as he may hence- forth be called, appeared more and more desperate. Before long, moreover, his forces sustained two memorable defeats. The first was at Cravant, on July 31, 1423, when the Franco-Scottish army, led by the Marshal de Sévérac and James Stuart, Lord Darnley, was totally defeated by the Anglo-Bur- gundians under Salisbury, Suffolk, and Jean de Toulongeon. Yet more disastrous for the French arms was the Battle of Verneuil, on August 17, 1424—a battle less familiar to Englishmen than Crecy, Poitiers, and Agincourt, but as well worthy of remembrance as any of those famous fights. Bedford led the Anglo-Normans, some 14,000 strong, and did powerful execution in the fray. The French King’s army of 20,000 men—chiefly Scots, Lombards, and Spaniards—was decimated by the English archers. Most of its leaders fell, and with them 9,000 of their men, Bedford’s losses being estimated at about one-third of that number.! After that ‘bloody daye of old Vernoyle’ the cause of Charles VII. seemed almost hopeless. He 1 Vallet de Viriville, Z¢., vol. ii., pp. 412-418. 144 BLUEBEARD had as yet shown none of the high qualities which marked the latter part of his reign. Supine and indolent, he left everything to favourites, and had it not been for the intervention of three women, Yolande d’Aragon, Joan of Arc, and Agnes Sorel, who between them ended by making almost a great ruler of him—so true it is that certain men are entirely the work of women—he would, perhaps, now figure in history as one of the very weakest princes that ever reigned. In the crisis of his fortunes it was Yolande d’Aragon, his mother-in-law, who came forward with good advice. Artus de Richemont, scurvily treated by the Duke of Bedford, had retired, in high dudgeon, into Brittany; and Yolande pre- vailed on Charles to send for him and create him Constable of France. This—in spite of the opposition of the favourites and other obstacles— was effected in March, 1425, and it has been sur- mised by some writers that Gilles de Rais then accompanied Richemont to the French court. There is no proof of it, however ; indeed, Gilles’ adhesion to the French cause appears to date from Sep- tember 8, 1425, when, in the company of his grand- father, Jean de Craon, he was present at an inter- view between Charles VII. and Duke Jean V. at Saumur. After the appointment of Richemont and the negotiation of a truce with Burgundy, Yolande d’Aragon had employed Jean de Craon in the delicate task of drawing France and Brittany together, and the Saumur interview was the result GILLES DE RAIS | 145 of Craon’s diplomacy,! Charles VII. having solemnly undertaken, once again, to remove from his court the favourites and other personages inimical to the Dukes of Brittany and Burgundy, besides formally disavowing all connection with the sequestration of Duke Jean V. by the Penthiévres. It is now, then, that we find Gilles de Rais con- sorting with the French court. Handsome, clever, possessed of a ready wit, and—what was of far more importance in those days—a very large fortune, it is certain that he was well received by the nobles who surrounded Charles VII. But he did not linger among the pleasures of Saumur or Chinon. Ever since the earlier part of 1425, Richemont had been endeavouring to raise men in Brittany—a task attended by considerable difficulties until the recon- ciliation of Saumur. Now, however (February, 1426), Jean V. himself desired active hostilities against the English, particularly as they had seized Le Mans, the appanage of his ward and son-in-law, Louis III. of Sicily, Duke of Anjou and Count of Maine. Thus the young Baron of Rais was able to come forward, raise seven companies of men at his own expense, and join the banner of Richemont. He fought for the French cause for the first time at the attack on St. James-de-Beuvron, a little town on the Norman frontier (between Avranches and Fougéres), which, with its castle built by William the Conqueror, was held by three English captains— 1 Chartier’s ‘ Troubles sous Charles VII.’ Nevers, 1553, p. 53 (cited by Bossard). . 1 fe) 146 BLUEBEARD Ramston, Branch, and Burdett, who commanded _ some 700 men. Richemont had perhaps 16,000 followers; but they were raw Breton levies, and when some of the English soldiery stole out of the stronghold and appeared on one of their flanks with shouts of ‘Salisbury and St. George!’ the Bretons, imagining that a large English relieving force was at hand, were seized with panic, and fled, despite the efforts of Richemont and his captains. Many were drowned in their flight, others were put to the sword, and the English took possession of eighteen banners and immense booty. Jean de Malestroit, Chancellor of Brittany and Bishop of Nantes, said to be an accomplice of the English, with whom, it appear, he had often nego- tiated on behalf of the duchy, and from whom he had received a pension and lands in Normandy, was openly accused of having planned or helped on this disgraceful rout; and when Richemont, who with a few captains remained on the lost field till midnight, returned to Rennes, he caused Malestroit to be arrested. The Chancellor, however, escaped punishment by dint of excuses, protests, and promises.1_ The incident has been mentioned here because this same Jean de Malestroit in after-years sat in judgment on Gilles de Rais. He will appear more than once in this narrative, for if it is im- portant that the reader should be made acquainted 1 Guillaume Gruel’s ‘ Mémoires de Richemont,’ p. 3644. V. de Viriville, /.¢, vol. ii, p. 15. ‘Le Connétable de Richemont,’ by E. Cosneau, Paris, 1886, 8vo., p. 121. GILLES DE RAIS 147 with the character of Gilles, the culprit, it is also essential that something should be said of the character of his judge. After the disaster of St. James, the Duke of Brittany sued the Earl of Suffolk, then the English Lieutenant in Lower Normandy, for a three months’ truce, which was granted on onerous conditions, and not renewed. Moreover, if the English for a time refrained from invading Brittany, they carried war yet farther into Maine, where they seized several castles, including La Suze, then belonging to Jean de Craon, and afterwards to Gilles’ brother René. About the end of 1426 various French forces were disposed in this region in order to resist the English advance. There was one body of men under Ambroise de Loré, a second under the Sire de Beaumanoir, and a third under Gilles de Rais,! who acted on some occasions independently, and at times in conjunction with the others. The chief duty of these captains appears to have been the defence of the country around La Fléche, but they also made frequent efforts to retake the various neighbouring fortresses which the English had occupied. Richemont repaired to the region after the relief of Montargis, at which the English were badly beaten by that energetic rascal La Hire and the young Bastard of Orleans. The Constable drove the enemy out of Galerande,? while Ambroise de 1 Jean Chartier’s ‘Chronique de Charles VII.’ etc., Elzevir edition, Paris, 1858, 8vo., vol. i., p. 51 ef seg. 2 Near Chateaugontier (Mayenne). 10—2 148 BLUEBEARD Loré, directing his efforts on Rainefort,! assaulted that castle with such good effect that he had already carried a part of the dox/evard or rampart when night set in. At ten on the following morning the English garrison agreed to surrender on the morrow if no succour should then have reached it; but a few hours later Gilles de Rais and Beaumanoir arrived to reinforce De Loré, and capitulation was then no longer delayed. The English were spared, but some French renegades among them were hanged by the orders of Gilles, in spite of De Loré’s remonstrances. In this connection it may be mentioned that both Henry V. and the Duke of Bedford had more than once made examples of those who, after swearing allegiance to England, had’ passed over to the other side. Indeed, all such renegades are, by the usages of war, liable to the death penalty. Rainefort having been reoccupied, Gilles and Beaumanoir marched on Malicorne, near La Fléche ; but this fortress resisted stubbornly until first De Loré, and then the Sire de Chartres, arrived upon the scene with powerful artillery. Malicorne was cannonaded and assaulted, but only at the last extremity did the English captain capitulate. He and his compatriots were held to ransom ; ‘ but those of the language of France who had surrendered to the said Lords of Rais and Beaumanoir were all hanged.”2 1 ‘Mémoires concernant la Pucelle’ (Petitot), vol. viil., p. 129. 2 Bourdigné’s ‘ Chroniques d’Anjou et de Maine,’ 1529 (Quatre- barbes’ and Faultrier’s reprint). Angers, 1842, vol. ii, p. 155. Jj. Chartier, 4c. vol. i, p. 53. GILLES DE RAIS 149 From this time Gilles and Beaumanoir are con- stantly found together. It would seem that they were not only of much the same age and disposi- tion, but that some ties of relationship existed between them. They are found joining De Loré at Ambriéres, where they again defeat a small Eng- lish force; and soon afterwards they appear under the walls of Le Lude, one of the region’s strongest castles, situated on the left bank of the Loire. Here the English captain, Blackburne by name, had re- solved to fight to the last extremity, and in order to reduce Le Lude artillery again had to be employed. At last the assault was given, led by Gilles de Rais in person. He was the first to reach the summit of the rampart, where, encountering Blackburne, he fought and slew him. The English, seeing their captain fall, speedily surrendered. ! The capture of Le Lude opened the road to Le Mans, whose inhabitants were eager to throw off the foreign rule; but an enterprise on that city could only prove successful if it were undertaken by a large force. This was brought together by Guillaume d’Albret and La Hire, joined by Beau- manoir, Rais, and others. Talbot, who commanded at Le Mans, was momentarily absent at Alencon, and, with the connivance of the inhabitants, the French, towards the end of May, 1428, made them- selves masters of the town after very little resist- ance. But the English garrison, which withdrew 1 Bourdigné, /.c., vol. ii, p. 156. ‘Chronique de la Pucelle’ (Bibliothéque Gauloise), p. 250. J. Chartier, /.¢., vol. i., p. 57. E50 BLUEBEARD into a part of the fortifications, sent messages to Talbot, who at once set out with all his forces. His advance guard, under Matthew Gough, arrived at Le Mans before dawn, thus surprising the French, who had spent the previous day drinking heavily, and were in no fit condition to fight. They fled, chased to Le Lude by Talbot, who afterwards put to death those inhabitants of Le Mans by whom they had been admitted to the city. With this discomfiture, the share of Gilles de Rais in the campaign seems to have ended. He was now altogether in the French service, for the Duke of Brittany had long previously ceased to support the cause of Charles VII. Bedford, enraged by the Breton attempt on St. James-de-Beuvron, had sent Warwick and Talbot against Brittany early in 1427, and Jean de Malestroit, the Bishop-Chancellor, ‘a traitor sold to the English,’ had speedily come to terms with them. Finally, in January, 1428, Jean V. had acknowledged Henry VI. as his only liege lord, and disowned all alliance with France; Scales and Talbot repairing on this occasion to Nantes, where the Duke—a puppet in the hands of the wily Malestroit—loaded them with gifts by way of pur- chasing their forbearance.® Thus Charles VII. was again reduced to his own 1 V. de Viriville, /.¢., vol. ii., p. 27. 2 J/bid., vol. i., p. 480. Cosneau, ¢., p. 121. 8 The Lavals, the Lord of Rais, the Viscount of Rohan and the Bishop of St. Malo refused the oath to the English. (Letters patent of Charles VII., Loches, June 28, 1428.) Cosneau, /.c, p. 531 GILLES DE RAIS ISI resources, and never had his position been more critical. The Duke of Bedford having decided to carry the war beyond the Loire, the Earl of Salis- bury marched triumphantly on Orleans, reducing, as he proudly wrote to the City of London, forty towns, castles, or fortresses on his line of march. At last, on October 12, 1428, the memorable siege of Orleans began. Who was to save France? Richemont, the Constable, a brave captain, whom fortune had deserted at St. James-de-Beuvron, was no longer beside Charles VII.; for he had not only acquired the surname of the Justiciar, but had also incurred the royal distrust by his summary treatment of the favourites, some of whom he had driven away, whilst others—the infamous Pierre de Giac and the aspiring Le Camus de Beaulieu—had been put to death by his commands. In the result, a third favourite, George de La Trémouille, fearing that his own influence might have a similar ending, had induced Charles VII. to exile Richemont from the court, and deprive him of active command. In the Constable’s absence, however, La Tré- mouille was not the man to take his place. He, the favourite, was no captain. In that age, which, whilst warlike and bloodthirsty, was also full of intrigue, venality, and grasping egotism, La Tré- mouille, like Philip of Burgundy, represented the latter characteristics. Yet Vallet de Viriville has assuredly painted him blacker than he really was. It is exaggeration to regard him as a Burgundian henchman, treacherously installed by the side of the 12 BLUEBEARD | #.. ‘French King. He played his own game, not that of Duke Philip. Possessed of a natural talent for intrigue and diplomacy, he was essentially an egotist, a joutsseur, fond of pleasure and particularly of money. That he was venal is certain—he is known to have practised usury, to have built himself a large fortune on the ruins of his country; but, whatever may have been his jealousy of others, his enemies have assuredly gone too far in basing on three or four coincidences a theory that he planned the ruin and downfall of Joan of Arc from the very hour of her advent. His disastrous management of public affairs is amply explained by the fact that he was a diplomatist, not a soldier. And what France needed in that terrible crisis was a captain of genius. No diplomacy could cope with the wily arts of Philip of Burgundy, or prevent the progress of the English, whose banners, now planted about the Loire, might soon advance into Southern France. But already at that hour the saviour of the country had arisen. In a little village. by the Meuse, in the remote province of Lorraine, there was a maid in her seventeenth year, a tall, comely, thoroughly healthy, strong and active girl, one with a winning, kindly heart, one who was never idle, who helped her mother in her housework, and spent long hours sewing and spinning beside her, one, too, who went into the fields and put her hand to plough and harrow whenever occasion required, and who at other times led the sheep of the villagers to pasture. She was no sickly weakling like Bernadette of GILLES DE RAIS 153 Lourdes, she was no mystic even in the sense in ° which that word is often taken; yet visions had © come to her, and she had heard commands. The voice that spake to her was the voice of a sensitive conscience and of untutored genius—natural genius, dawning triumphantly in a pure and pious mind. The visions she beheld were in like way the splendid visions of genius, blended with the most trustful, the most fervent religious faith. And the genius arising in that young maid was that of the most ardent and courageous patriotism. For long years, amidst the rivalries and jealousies, the eager and conflicting passions of princes and nobles, the real question at issue in those dolorous and bloody days had been lost sight of, simple though it was. And she came forward to bring it back to recollection. Was France to belong to its own children, or was it to pass for ever under the sway of the Anglo-Saxons ? ‘France for the French’—such, virtually, was the answer of Joan of Arc. And, though the end came long after her cruel martyrdom, she it was who saved France, who saved her race. _ In her, indeed, glowed the flame which, in another supreme moment of French history, shone in Danton. Long before his time she was the apostle of audacity. ‘ De l’audace, encore de l’audace, toujours de l’audace '—and, not miracles, but marvels would follow ! ‘ Brief, brave, and glorious was Aer young career ;’ and she is still so near to us that when we think of what she did and what she suffered, epopceia ceases to be fantasy and becomes reality. Joan, all uncon- 154 BLUEBEARD scious of it, was a poet in action. Her few years formed a splendid pathetic living epic, soaring to the very acme of earthly glory, ending in the most dire of human sufferings. As for the men who sent her to her death, they were less to blame than was the cruel, revengeful, and superstitious age in which they lived. When one remembers how low Chris- tianity was allowed to sink by those who had taken on themselves to diffuse and guide it, one marvels that it should ever have revived, ever have attained again even to semi-purity. Fascinating, however, as is the story of the Maid of Orleans, this is not the place to tell it in detail. Nor would it be necessary to recapitulate its chief features—which are almost as well known to English as to French children'—if it were not for the fact that throughout a considerable period Gilles de Rais figured prominently by the side of Joan, in such wise that one is forced to tread well-worn ground in order to make the narrative of his career intelligible. It was early in March, 1429, when Joan reached Chinon, saw Charles VII., and told him of her 1 Should this book fall by chance into the hands of any French readers, it is as well perhaps that they should know that the story of Joan of Arc, in its broad lines, is taught in English Board and National Schools, and is thus as familiar to the young of this country as is the story of King Alfred and the cakes. The writer has questioned several children on the subject, and has been both surprised and pleased by the knowledge and sympathy displayed by them. This ought to show French Anglophobists in some measure how absurd it is on their part to cast Joan, her exploits, and her death, as a menace and a reproach at the English of the twentieth century, GILLES DE RAIS 16s mission. After being taken to Poitiers and interro- gated there, she returned to Chinon with the King about the end of the month. The expedition for the relief of Orleans had now been decided on, and an establishment and a command were assigned to Joan. At this moment, according to some accounts, the duty of watching over her and protecting her— apart, of course, from the immediate services of her squire and other personal attendants—was assigned to the young Baron of Rais, who was also to com- mand a part of the relieving forces. Abbé Bossard insists even that, as Gilles discharged the afore- mentioned duty, he must have been selected for it by Joan herself, and in support of that contention the Abbé quotes the ‘Geste des Nobles,’ which shows the Maid asking ‘that, to serve as her escort, it might please the King to grant her such men, and in such number, as she might request.’ The ‘Chronique de la Pucelle’! adds: ‘Then the King ordered that whatever she might ask should be given unto her; and afterwards the Maid took leave of the King to go to the city of Orleans.’ It is said, however, that Joan repaired to St. Florent and Tours whilst the military preparations were being made at Blois, and one must therefore assume (if the story be true) that Gilles only entered on protective duties—such as were subsequently 1 V. de Viriville’s edition, p. 280. Bossard also cites ‘ Procés de Jeanne d’Arc,’ J. Chartier, vol. iv., pp. 41-53; Monstrelet, vol. iv., p. 363; Jean de Wavrin, p. 407; ‘Chronique de la Pucelle’ (Bibliothéque Gauloise), p. 278. 156 BLUEBEARD assigned to Alencon—when the Maid arrived there on April 25, with Regnault de Chartres (Chancellor of France) and the Sire de Gaucourt. On the 8th day of that month, before leaving Chinon for Blois, Rais entered into a curious engage- ment with the royal favourite La Trémouille, an engagement which has been the subject of con- siderable speculation. ‘Gilles, Lord of Rais and Pouzauges,’ says the deed,! ‘ engages on his honour to observe inviolable fidelity towards George, Lord of La Trémouille, Sully and Craon,? for the King’s service. In recognition of the ‘great rewards, honours, and acts of courtesy’ for which he has to thank the favourite, he swears ‘to serve him until death against all lords and others of whatever estate they be, always with regard to the good grace and love of the King.’ Some writers have thought that this deed was connected with a plot—even at that early stage —against Joan of Arc, who undoubtedly was not regarded with favour by certain prominent person- ages. But, leaving the Maid altogether on one side, the document is amply accounted for by the dis- trustful and jealous disposition of La Trémouille. It was in all likelihood a precaution taken by him to deter the young and flighty Gilles—at a moment when with the favourite’s sanction, and probably by his help, he 1 Cited by Bossard. There is a copy among Dom Fonteneau’s MSS. at Poitiers (Redet’s Catalogue, No. 329), which copy is said to be from the original at Thouars. 2 La Trémouille was a distant kinsman of Jean de Craon and of Gilles. GILLES DE RAIS 167 was being entrusted with an important command— from entering into any conspiracies with other nobles. There is nothing to show that La Trémouille then hated the Maid, though, like many others, he probably doubted her assertions, for she had not yet won her spurs. But, on the other hand, he, the favourite, was unpopular among many who ap- proached Charles VII. And, again, the deed may have been directed more particularly against Riche- mont, the Constable, who was very desirous of quitting his retirement and exercising a command now that active warfare was imminent. Richemont and Rais had been on friendly terms, and La Tré- mouille may have wished to prevent the latter from using his new rank, as one of the chief captains of the French forces, in the dreaded Constable's interest. In that respect, however, Rais remained indepen- dent ; at a later stage he even helped Richemont to return for a brief period to the royal service. Thus if —in order to secure command—he did covenant to act as La Trémouille’s ‘man and spy’ on the expedition to Orleans, it is certain that he afterwards attached very little importance to his undertaking. Princes and nobles, it may be added, were constantly enter- ing into solemn covenants and breaking them in those suspicious and changing times. Orleans was reached safely, and Joan entered the city; Rais apparently being among those who returned to Blois for fresh supplies, artillery and ammunition. But he participated in the desperate fighting, and was certainly with the Maid during the 158 BLUEBEARD various attacks on the fortresses held by the English around Orleans.!_ Some chroniclers say he hurried to her side to succour her when she was wounded in the breast by an arrow at the memorable assault of Les Tourelles. Again, when the siege was raised, Gilles was one of those who strongly advised that the Loire region should be purged of the English before any attempt were made to carry the King to Reims for his coronation. This is shown by the ‘ Mystery of the Siege of Orleans,’ which by reason of Gilles’s share in its production—of which further mention will be made hereafter—may be regarded in some respects as a historical document. It is also beyond question that the young captain rendered important services in the reduction of the town of Jargeau, when, after a desperate onslaught gallantly led by the Maid, the English were over- come and Suffolk was taken prisoner. A State document? shows that Charles VII. afterwards granted to the Baron of Rais ‘the sum of 1,000 livres to recompense him for the great expenditure he had incurred by assembling, according to agree- ment, a certain large body of men-of-arms and bow- men, whom he had kept at his own expense and employed for the service of the King and in the company of the Maid, in order to reduce to obe- dience the town of Gergeau (szc), which was held by the English.’ 1 J. Chartier, /.c., vol. i., pp. 73-77. 2 Archives de la ‘Chambre des Comptes. Quicherat ‘ Procts de Jeanne d’Arc,’ vol. iv., p. 261. GILLES DE RAIS 159 Again—and this proves that Gilles did not attach much importance to his covenant with La Trémouille —he is found among those who signed and sealed guarantees of the fidelity of Richemont! when the Constable (early in June, 1429) was for a brief space again allowed to bear arms for France. Rais helped him to reduce Beaugency.? And he fought, too, at Patay (June 18), when Talbot’s men got into confusion, and when the doughty warrior him- self was taken prisoner, philosophically exclaiming : ‘It is the fortune of war '—a battle which, as distinct from siege operations, was the first gained by the French in the Maid’s company. It was not a great engagement, perhaps; for it would seem that on either side there were only about 6,000 combatants ; but its effect on the morale of the French can hardly be overestimated. They, in the first in- stance, awed by the recollection of Agincourt, Cravant, and Verneuil, had been almost unwilling to fight; but Joan had urged them on. ‘Have you your spurs?’ she cried. ‘Go at them and they will flee. ... And your spurs you will need to follow them !’ This prophecy was not fulfilled to the letter; for Sir John Fastolfe—who has received more justice from French than from English historians—drew off his division in good order; but victory rested with the French, who now felt that in the inspiring com- panionship of the Maid they could beat their 1 Desormeaux, ‘ Histoire de la Maison de Montmorency ’; Guillaume Gruel, etc. ; cited by Bossard, p. 40. 2 Cosneau, 4¢., p. 171. 160 BLUEBEARD enemies in the field as well as recover their lost towns and castles. When the time came for the bold and eventful march on Reims (June 27-29), Rais figured among the commanders of the force escorting Charles VII. and Joanof Arc. The ‘coronation city’ was reached on July 16, and on the morrow Gilles was promoted to the dignity of Marshal of France. He had cer- tainly rendered good service at Orleans, Jargeau, Beaugency, and Patay, and was entitled to reward. Yet this particular honour, at this particular moment, was due, perhaps, to the fact that usage required two Marshals to be present at the coronation, and the force accompanying the King and the Maid counted only one—that is, Jean de Brosse, Lord of Boussac and Ste. Sévére, who had held the office since 1427, having gained it, some assert, by the help he had given Richemont in putting the ignoble royal favourite, Le Camus de Beaulieu, to death. Invested with his new dignity, Rais and _ his brother Marshal, with the Sire de Culant, Admiral of France, and the Sire de Graville, Grand Master of the Archers, rode in brave array, with banners flying, to the ancient abbey of St. Remi to serve as an escort! for the ‘Sainte Ampoule ’—the holy oil said to have been brought down from heaven by a dove expressly for the coronation of the Kings of France. The Abbot received them, mounted a horse provided by Charles VII., and—with the 1 J. Chartier, /¢., vol. 1, p. 97. Letter of Three Angevin Noblemen: facsimile in Wallon’s ‘ Jeanne d’Arc,’ illus. edit., p. 136. GILLES DE RAIS 161 golden dove, in which the phial of holy oil was encased, hanging by a chain from his neck—repaired with his pompous guard of honour to the cathedral, where Regnault de Chartres, Chancellor of France and Archbishop of Reims, received the dove from his hands. Rais, Boussac and the rest, still acting as escort, rode clattering up the nave as far as the choir, at the entrance of which they dismounted. Charles stood in readiness, took the customary oaths, and was knighted by the Duc d’Alencgon. Then Berry, King at Arms, called the twelve Peers of France. Three of the six ecclesiastical peers were present, but all the others, it is said, were repre- sented by deputies, respecting whom the historians are greatly at variance. Father Daniel and Desor- meaux! both assert that ‘Gilles de Laval, Sire de Rais,’ figured among those deputies ; but he is not mentioned by others, and it may well be that this honour did not devolve on him.? Another state- 1 Daniel’s ‘ Abrégé de l'Histoire de France,’ vol. iv., p. 399; Desormeaux, /.¢., vol. i., pp. 121, 371. 2 The ecclesiastical peers—the peerage going with the sees— were the Archbishop Duke of Reims, the Bishops-Dukes of Laon and Langres, and the Bishops-Counts of Beauvais, Chalons, and Noyon. Their number was not increased until 1674, when the Archbishop of Paris was created a peer, with the title of Duke of St. Cloud. The lay peers were originally the Dukes of Burgundy, Guienne, and Normandy, and the Counts of Flanders, Cham- pagne, and Toulouse. But at the time of Charles VII.’s corona- tion the peerages of Normandy and Guienne had passed to the Crown, the English titles of Duke of Normandy and Duke of Guienne not being recognised by the French. In like way Cham- pagne and Toulouse had gone to the Crown, as had also Flanders, so far as it was French. Thus, at this particular time, the six lay II 162 BLUEBEARD ment is to the effect that he was at this time created a Count; and this may be accurate, as in later documents we find Gilles styling himself Comte de Brienne as well as Sire de Rais. However hasty had been the preparations for the coronation ceremony, nothing was lacking. The cathedral treasury supplied a crown, the real crown of France being then at St. Denis; and when the Archbishop had placed the symbol of royalty on the King's head the trumpets sounded, ‘till it seemed that the roofs would split asunder,’ and a great shout of ‘ Noél!’ went up from the assembled throng, while the deputies of the peers, according to ancient usage, stretched forth their hands as if to press the crown on the royal brow, thus signifying that they, as the great vassals of the State, confirmed the coronation. Meantime, below the altar, with her standard raised, stood the Maid who had brought the once vanquished eee ee ee ee ce ate ct RE I ne —_— — peers seem to have been: Burgundy, senior and chief peer; Anjou, created by Philip the Fair 1297, recreated 1360; Brittany, created 1297; Orleans, created 1344-45 ; Saintonge and Roche- fort (James I., King of Scotland), created 1421; and either Evreux (J. Stuart, Lord Darnley), created 1424, or Alencon—that is, if the Maid’s ‘Beau Duc’ inherited the peerage created in 1360. Until the middle of the sixteenth century the new peerages were not additional to the old ones, but replaced such of the latter as became extinct. This is proved by the preambles of the Letters of Creation and the decisions of the Parliament of Paris. Thus, there were never more than six lay peers until peerages were lavished on the Guises (1527, 1547). The Parliament then remonstrated, but in vain, and from that time the number of peers frequently increased, and the peerage was finally shorn of all its ancient significance. GILLES DE RAIS 163 and forsaken Prince to be anointed, like his ances- tors, in that splendid fane. And, to quote one of the old chronicles, when the ceremony was at last finished, ‘whosoever had seen the Maid fall upon her knees before the King, and clasp him by the legs, and kiss his feet, weeping the while hot tears, would have been moved by it. And many did she provoke to tears when she said: “Gentle King, now is accomplished the pleasure of God, Who willed it that you should come to Reims to receive your stately sacring, thereby showing that you are the true King and the one unto whom the kingdom should belong.”’ After that memorable coronation came the march on Paris, so eagerly desired by Joan, but opposed by several of the courtiers, and notably by La Trémouille. Indeed, when the royal army ap- proached Bray, the King purposed crossing the Seine there, and taking the road to Berry. But some English forces threw themselves into Bray, and the royal design was frustrated, to the great delight, not only of Joan, but of Rais and other captains, who were bent on proceeding to Paris.! Bedford, however, moved from the capital to meet the royal army, and when, on August 14, the contending parties met between Baron and Senlis an engage- ment seemed inevitable. The French even formed in order of battle, the Duc d’Alencon and Louis d’Anjou commanding the centre, Rais one wing? and 1 * Procés ’ and Desormeaux, cited by Bossard. 2 J. Chartier, /.c., vol. i., p. 103. II—2 164 BLUEBEARD : Boussac the other; but the English, who had en- trenched themselves in a kind of zareba, remained on the defensive, and finally retreated, first to Senlis and thence to Paris; whilst Charles VII. moved on Compiégne, which, like many other towns, now declared for him, and where he arranged a fresh truce with the envoys of the Duke of Burgundy, who gulled him with promises to place him in pos- session of Paris if he would only refrain from hostilities. Joan likewise proceeded to Compiégne, whilst Rais forcibly occupied Senlis, where he was at last joined by the Maid, to whom the King’s dilatoriness and belief in Burgundy were a constant source of grief. Charles VII. and his councillors were left to their own devices, and Joan and Rais pressed on towards the capital, followed by Boussac and Alencon. On August 26 St. Denis was reached, and Charles VII. was then obliged to draw nearer to his forces, finally joining them on or about Sep- tember 7. A famous attempt to assault Paris ensued on the morrow. The army had moved to La Chapelle in two bodies, first an attacking force under Joan, Rais and Gaucourt, and secondly a corps commanded by Alencon and Clermont, which was to cover the other, and resist any attempt at a sortie. Joan and Rais marched to the St. Honoré gate, forced the outer barrier, and the doxlevard protecting it. Then the Maid, banner in hand, and regardless of the fire of bombards and culverins, sprang into the first fosse and crossed it with her GILLES DE RAIS 165 followers. But as the second one was full of water, the city walls could not be reached. Joan and her companions remained therefore on a kind of glacis between the two ditches, exposed the while to all the projectiles of the garrison. The Maid was sounding the depth of the water with the staff of her banner, when a shaft from a cross-bow,! glancing off one of her thighs, pierced the other. Some accounts, inimical to the French, say that she fell into the dry ditch and was long abandoned there, but Wallon assures us that she was carried behind an ¢faulement, which sheltered her, and that she lay there in grievous pain,? yet still urging on her men, pressing them to fill the ditches with faggots in order that an assault might be attempted. Rais, we are told, ‘remained beside her all that day, both in the crossing of the dry ditch and at the water-side where she was wounded.” But night fell, and, though Joan besought her men and captains to persevere, the attempts to force an entry, which had been going on since noon, were at last abandoned. In spite of her wound the Maid would have renewed the effort on the morrow. It is certain that there was a considerable French party in the city—the Baron de Montmorency and fifty or sixty nobles made their way out to join the royal 1 ‘Chronique Normande’ (Brit. Mus. MSS. 11,542) annexed to Chartier, /.c, p. 205. 2 The Latin text of Chartier’s Chronicle says of her wound : ‘ atrocissime in crure cum sagitta vulnerata.’ 8 Bossard, /.c., p. 44; J. Chartier, /.¢., p. x09. 166 BLUEBEARD standard!—but pusillanimous counsels prevailed with Charles VII. Moreover, another herald from that accomplished trickster the Duke of Burgundy had just reached the King with a message, begging him to cease hostilities, and again promising to place him there- after in possession of Paris. Thus the captains were ordered to withdraw, and although Joan, defying the royal commands, made yet another attempt with Alencon to approach the city, nothing came of it, and she was compelled to accompany the court and army on the road to the Loire. Charles VII. proceeded to Jargeau and Gien, and between those towns he made a halt at Sully-sur- Loire, where La Trémouille had a castle, at which the King had stayed on previous occasions. This time, whilst he was there, he caused letters-patent to be drawn up, conferring a great honour upon Gilles, Lord of Rais and Pouzauges and Marshal of France, in recognition of ‘ his glorious services and to perpetuate the memory thereof.’ This was nothing less than the grant of a right to add the arms of France as a border to the shield of Rais. ‘The said escutcheon,’ says the document, ‘shall bear an orle of our arms—that is, a field azure charged with flowers- de-luce or, in such form and manner as is here portrayed, figured, and emblazoned.’? 1 The English subsequently condemned Montmorency for 2se- mazjesté towards Henry VI., and confiscated his barony. 2 The document was discovered in the Archives of Thouars by M. Paul Marchegay. It is on parchment and has suffered from dampness ; the new shield of Rais is painted on it. GILLES DE RAIS 167 It is perfectly true that these letters-patent, pre- pared during the royal journey, were never sealed and registered, probably because there was no Opportunity to do so at the time, and because other circumstances subsequently arose to prevent the execution of the final formalities. Nevertheless, in conjunction with other documents, discovered of recent years, they serve to show that Gilles de Rais, at the time they were drafted, was held in very great honour by the King. The royal arms had been granted a few months previously to Joan of Arc and her family, and if they were now bestowed on Gilles, his services must have been considerable. Such an honour, indeed, was reserved for exceptional occa- sions, and, in that age, was conferred more often on towns—distinguished for their patriotism and fidelity —than on individuals. It is true that Charles VII., in May, 1432, made similar grants to Nicholas of Ferrara, Marquis of Este, and Visconti, Duke of Milan, in recognition of their great assistance in placing contingents of troops at his disposal ; but Este and Milan were sovereign houses, whereas Gilles de Rais was only a subject—the first Baron of Brittany,! it is true, but none the less an imme- diate vassal of the duchy, and, for some of his possessions, of the French crown also. If he were singled out for a distinction similar to that conferred on the Maid herself, it must have been therefore because he was regarded as one of her best lieu- 1 Mourain de Sourdeval’s ‘ Les Seigneurs de Rais.’ Tours, 1845, 8vo., p. 18. 168 BLUEBEARD tenants. And this shows that one is justified in assigning to the young Marshal a more prominent position in the record of Joan’s campaigns than has been granted him, first, by chroniclers writing a few years afterwards, and, secondly, by several genera- tions of modern historians. In this connection it must be pointed out that eleven years after that grant of the right to emblazon the arms of France in his escutcheon Gilles died a death of infamy. It is possible that from that very moment men shrank from associating his name with that of the national heroine, the pure and pious Maid of Orleans. In any case, that prejudice, a very natural one, is to be traced in the works of various modern writers. For instance, Gilles is mentioned in documents and books which Vallet de Viriville, the historian of Charles VII., is known to have consulted; but even that painstaking author, who, when he is not dealing with his particular béte notre, La Trémouille, is usually so reliable and impartial, seems desirous of ignoring Rais until the Maid is dead and gone, and occasion arises to speak of the crimes for which the Marshal under- went the capital penalty. It seemed, perhaps, to M. Vallet de Viriville that the name of Rais, in con- junction with that of Joan of Arc, was calculated to befoul the latter ; and thus, in pages of the ‘ Histoire de Charles VII.,’ where Gilles should have been named with other leading captains, a convenient ‘etc.’ often does duty for him. M. Wallon was probably swayed by feelings similar to those of M. Vallet de y | GILLES DE RAIS 169 Viriville, though it must be acknowledged that the Marshal’s military services are mentioned not un- favourably in ‘Jeanne d’Arc ’—that fine literary effort of the ‘ father’ of the present French constitution. In the first place, even the devil is entitled to his due, and the present writer holds that Gilles de Rais was, as a military man, a trusty, energetic, and able servant of France. This is the view taken by Abbé Bossard, who, as a minister of religion, has shown considerable courage in dealing with Rais’s career. Again—and on this point also one may express cordial agreement with Abbé Bossard— nothing can besmirch the pure glory of the Maid. She had no connection whatever with the crimes of Gilles, whether they began prior to her arrival at Chinon, or whether they were altogether of a later date, which is a matter for consideration hereafter. In any event they were absolutely unknown to Joan of Arc. And thus any attempts to banish Rais from her side—from the history of France, in fact, to consign him solely to its ‘ Newgate Calendar’ or ‘Causes Célébres ’—are foolish. To show how far the prejudice has gone, it must be mentioned that some years ago even those historians who had condescended to name Rais in connection with Joan, the relief of Orleans, the march on Reims, and the assault of Paris, were said to have been entirely mistaken. Rais had no share in all those exploits, it was asserted ; the Marshal of France who assisted Joan of Arc was Rieux. But investigation has completely disproved that theory. 170 BLUEBEARD It is true that in certain documents the name is written ‘Rees,’ which, allowing for the fact that accents were not used at that time, would, accord- ing to modern orthography, be Rées—that is, a phonetic equivalent of ‘Rais,’ and not of Rieux. Moreover, Pierre de Rieux-Rochefort was far more generally known as the Maréchal de Rochefort. It is unnecessary to recapitulate his career, but one may mention that he was created a Marshal of France as far back as 1417, gained a reputation for timidity, not to say cowardice,! was taken prisoner in 1438, and died in captivity in England in 1439. It is true that in the latter part of Gilles’ military career Rieux appeared somewhat prominently on the scene, and in some minor matters there may have been a little confusion between the two men. But the one who fought beside Joan of Arc was undoubtedly Gilles de Rais. After the return of the French court to the Loire in the autumn of 1429, Gilles may have repaired for a time to his own possessions. That would, indeed, be virtually certain were it true, as Vallet de Viriville asserts, that his only child, a daughter, named Marie, was born during the following year. But there is great doubt on that last point? We know, however, by another document discovered by M. Marchegay, that in the winter of 1430 Gilles was at Louviers in Normandy, which in December, 1429, the famous La Hire had occupied for the French King. Joan of Arc, it should here be 1 Cosneau, /.¢., pp. 568-69. 2 Bossard, pp. 370-71. GILLES DE RAIS 171 mentioned, had been taken prisoner at Compiégne on May 24, 1430; and, transferred from dungeon to dungeon, had been finally carried to Rouen about the end of the year. The English fully intended to drive the French out of Louviers, but had adjourned the enterprise until after the trial of the Maid. She, it is known, evinced the greatest con- fidence throughout the earlier proceedings against her ; and it has more than once been surmised that, however strictly she may have been guarded, she had some positive reasons for hoping that Charles VII. would deliver her by force of arms. He has always been reproached with having absolutely deserted her. His Chancellor, Regnault de Chartres, was certainly no friend of Joan’s; besides, his favourite, La Tré- mouille, always preferred negotiation to military effort. Yet it is possible that the King may have been judged too harshly by historians. La Hire was so often accustomed to act on his own behalf that his doings at Louviers need occasion no sur- prise, but the Marshal de Rais can only have gone thither under orders. The document which shows that he repaired to this town is an acknowledgment that he owes to ‘Rolland Mauvoisin, his squire, captain of Le Pringay, the sum of eighty golden crowns for the purchase of a black horse (cheval moreau), saddled and bridled, which he promised to give to his very dear and well-beloved squire, Michel Machefert, captain of the men-of-arms and bowmen of his company, directly they arrived at Louviers, to induce him to 172 BLUWEBEARD come with him on that journey.’ The acknow- ledgment is dated December 26, 1430, and signed simply ‘Gilles,’ in the sovereign style the Marshal affected, though even the brother of the Duke of Brittany signed ‘ Le Cte. de Richemont, Artus.’ Now, one may well agree with M. Marchegay and Abbé Bossard that the presence of Rais at Louviers—less than sixteen miles from Rouen, where Joan was imprisoned—is a very significant circum- stance. Some writers have suggested that, being a mere spy employed by La Trémouille, Rais abandoned the cause of the Maid after the failure of the attempt on Paris. We think otherwise, and are inclined, moreover, to give Charles VII. credit for some desire to save the unfortunate Joan. It is certain that in March, 1431, the force at Louviers was joined by Dunois, the Bastard of Orleans, with ‘a certain great company ’ sent ‘to resist our ancient enemies the English, who were then assembled there- abouts in great strength,’ and that Dunois carried Out ‘two secret enterprises against our said enemies.’! Vallet de Viriville suggests, however, that the King’s only desire was to prevent Louviers from being retaken by the English, and that he cared nothing about the fate of Joan. In any case, whatever may have been the desires of Charles or Rais or Dunois, we know only too well that the heroic Maid went to her cruel death to become, for all ages, the martyr and the saint of patriotism. 1 Royal donation of 1,200 livres granted to Dunois; V. de Viriville, 4¢., vol. i, p. 244. GILLES DE RAIS 173 Louviers was finally seized by the English in October, 1431, and Gilles de Rais is next found with his colleague Boussac at Beauvais, in the following March, when an unsuccessful attempt is planned to surprise Rouen and kidnap the young English King, Henry VI. Next Gilles is traced to Lagny, where he participates in the engagement of August 10, when Bedford is repulsed and compelled to raise the siege of the town.! Then, on December 14, old Jean de Craon, the Marshal’s grandfather, dies, and Gilles no doubt proceeds to Brittany. We find nothing about him in connection with military matters during the ensuing year (1433),? when the grasping La Trémouille is at last driven from power, though this is an event in which he is certain to have taken the side of the Constable de Richemont, for in February or March, 1434, in response to the request of Charles d’Anjou, he hastens into Maine with a body of troops, appears at the demonstration of Sillé-le-Guillaume and at Sablé by the side of the Constable, the Sire de Bueil and Prégent de Coétivy® —the very three men by whom La Trémouille had been overthrown ; whilst, in the latter part of the 1 Chartier errs in saying that Gilles de Sillé (the Marshal’s cousin) was then taken prisoner. It was Michel de Sillé who was captured, as is shown in connection with the Marshal’s crimes. See post, p. 274. 2 We believe that Gilles went to Lyons with the King that year, after the overthrow of La Trémouille. See fost, p. 187. ® Bossard, /¢., p. 51, réfers to Gruel, edit. 1622, pp. 55-58; Chartier, edit. 1597, Nevers, pp. 72, 73: Martial d’Auvergne’s ‘ Vigiles de Charles VII.,’ 1493, p. 137. 174 BLUJEBEARD following year, he again appears in the same region— the Laval country—to do battle at Conlie. The con- nection of Rais with the spurious ‘ Maid of Orleans,’ La des Armoises, belongs to a later period— 1438-39—when he had become demoralized. It may well be the case that when he placed this woman at the head of a body of his men, and allowed her to figure as the real Maid, it was from a desire to exploit the prestige attaching to the memory. of Joan, whom many still thought to be alive. But he removed her from the command soon afterwards, as is mentioned in certain letters of remission granted to one of his captains, Jean de Siquenville, for various offences.! Whatever may be the exact date of Gilles’s retirement from active service, documents in the Archives of Orleans show that he always retained his rank of Marshal of France ;? and, indeed, accord- ing to the ‘Mémoire’ of his heirs, the emoluments of his office were paid to him until his death, or at least until his prosecution. Vallet de Viriville and others have stated that there were never more than two Marshals in office, at one and the same period, during Charles VII.’s reign ; but the list of the nine Marshals created by that King, and the records of their careers—to say nothing of the Marshals sur- viving from the reign of Charles V1.—scarcely bear out that contention. It may be taken that in previous times the Marshals were only appointed for limited periods, and that there were then never more 1 See post, p. 296 ef seg. 2 Bossard, /¢., p. 51. GILLES DE RAIS 175 than two exercising active command; but this rule may well have been relaxed during the more eventful years of Charles VII.’s struggle with the English. In any case the assertions which will be found in some writers, that Rais was disgraced in 1433, at the same time as La Trémouille, and sup- planted in the marshalate by Gilbert de la Fayette —who, removed from all command by La Tré- mouille, was reinstated after the favourite’s over- throw—are at variance with his participation with Richemont, Bueil, and Coétivy in military operations after 1433, and with documentary evidence existing at Orleans and elsewhere. Detested—and not without cause—by historians, the Marshal de Rais, one may repeat it, has never received from them the recognition to which his military merits entitled him. Besides being a courageous, a diligent, an energetic and a trusty soldier, he expended, there can be no doubt of it, very large sums in the cause of France, at a time when Charles VII. was little better than a beggar, and when the royal favourite, La Trémouille, and the right reverend Chancellor Regnault de Chartres were preying greedily on the misfortunes of their country. As Vallet de Viriville has shown, the French army was then seldom paid by the King. Gilles de Rais therefore repeatedly raised, equipped and kept large bodies of men at his own expense. Occasionally, as in the Jargeau affair, he was reim- bursed, but his great military expenditure may well have been the beginning of his ruin. At the same 176 BERJEBEARD time, however, he was certainly a prodigal, one who was bent on having all his fancies satisfied regard- less of the cost. And he found a Duke of Brittany, a Bishop, a cathedral Chapter, and others only too willing to avail themselves of his eagerness to turn his possessions into money. One may now pass then from Gilles de Rais, the soldier, the Marshal of France, to Gilles the spendthrift and the patron of dramatic literature and the arts. IT! 1434-35 SPLENDOUR AND PRODIGALITY—‘THE MYSTERY OF ORLEANS —THE HOLY INNOCENTS The Marshal’s Valuable Furnishings—His Large Income—His Military Expenses and Receipts—His Grand Bodyguard and his Herald—His Chantry and Chapter—The Magnificence of his Chapel—His Passion for Music—He keeps Open House— His Pompous Progresses—His Library and his Reader—His Predilection for the Stage—Mysteries, Moralities, Farces, and Morris Dances—‘ The Mystery of Orleans’—Gilles and his Retinue invade the Hostelries of the City—They make Costly Trips into the Bourbonnais—Gilles’ Réle in the ‘ Mystery of Orleans ’—The Rondeau of ‘ St. Michael and the Maid ’—The Foundation of the Holy Innocents—Gilles’ Anxiety to save his Soul—A Glimpse of his Crimes—His Estrangement from his Wife and Daughter—Pleasure and Remorse—Financial Troubles. On introducing Gilles de Rais to the reader some mention was made of the great extent of his terri- torial possessions, his many lordships, his castles and fortresses, and his superb mansion of La Suze in the city of Nantes. The previously quoted ‘Mémoire’ of his heirs, drawn up in the course of litigation with successive Dukes of Brittany, also tells us that Rais inherited from his father and his 12 178 BLUEBEARD maternal grandfather, and received as part of his wife’s dowry, a great variety of splendid furnishings, tapestries, examples of the art of the gold and silver smith, jewels, and so forth, the value of these belongings being estimated at more than one hundred thousand crowns. In 1445 the crown was worth twenty-five sols, and according to Abbé Bossard’s calculation—based on Leber’s researches and estimates'—the value assigned to Gilles’ fur- nishings would be equivalent to more than £180,000 of our present currency. The young noble’s annual income was also very large. He derived more than thirty thousand livres from his personal domains, without counting all the produte received as tribute or tithe from vassals. Indeed, Desormeaux, who wrote with all the documents of the House of Mont- morency before him —and Gilles, it should be remembered, whether one call him ‘ of Laval’ or ‘ of Rais,’ was really a Montmorency—states that the Marshal’s full revenye amounted to nearly double the amount given above ; his fortune being the more conspicuous ‘as the appanage of the brothers of the Duke of Brittany then only represented six thousand livres a year.’ One may take exception to Abbé Bossard's view that Gilles, apart from his private wealth, was also in receipt of large pensions and grants from Charles VII. He was doubtless entitled to them by letters-royal, but it is far from certain that he 1 «Essai sur l'appréciation de la Fortune privée au Moyen Age,’ by C. Leber. Paris, 1847, 8vo. GILLES DE RAIS 179 ever actually received them. Charles VII. was remarkably lavish with grants on paper, but it often happened that they were not carried into effect. Powerful men like La Trémouille and Regnault de Chartres undoubtedly took good care to secure every gift which the King signified his intention of bestowing on them; but others were less fortunate in those troublous times, when the royal treasury was almost always empty, and when a donation often took the form of an assignment of confiscated pro- perty or of a charge on some source of revenue, which the grantee had to recover by personal authority, and occasionally even by force of arms. Moreover Charles VII., like most Kings swayed by successive favourites and parties, revoked all royal donations at various periods of his reign ; and, on the other hand, Gilles,as previously mentioned, long main- tained considerable bodies of men in the royal service at his own expense. In the course of the litigation between his heirs and Francois I. of Brittany, we find the latter stating that if Gilles sold certain property, it was by reason ‘of the great necessity in which he was to maintain himself in the exercise of his office of Marshal at the time of the wars and divisions then existing 1n this realm, for which office he received but very little wage or profit.’ And, again, in equipping men and providing money for the public service, the Marshal, it is said, simply did ‘as was often done by the late Messire Bertrand de Glesquin, in his lifetime Constable of France, and as in like way many other great lords of this realm, 12—2 180 BLUEBEARD wise men and valiant, did in those wars, for the defence of the commonwealth, even as they were bound to do ; and, in any case, it was for the King to reward the said late Messire Gilles or the said plaintiff, his heir.” This tends to show that the dignities acquired by Gilles proved a source of expenditure and not of profit. Whatever he may have received from Charles VII. represented but a portion of his outlay for the State. But, apart from all question of the royal generosity, the young noble’s income, at a moderate estimate, represented not less than 480,000 and perhaps as much as £100,000 a year. Such a revenue is not despised even in these days of American plutocracy ; and, at the time of the Marshal de Rais, it was altogether exceptional. Thus, from the standpoint of his wealth, he may be regarded as one of the millionaires of the first half of the fifteenth century, whilst in prodigality he set an example unsurpassed by any of the ‘ Jubilee’ and other plungers of our own times. His magnificence was conspicuous already in his earlier days, when, as the ‘Mémoire’ of his heirs tells us, he was ‘seduced by the false craft and damnable covetous- ness of his servants,’ and took in hand ‘the government of his lands and lordships, doing with them as he pleased, without seeking advice from his grandfather or listening to him further in any re- spect. There can be no doubt that the flatterers 1 ‘Intendits du Duc de Bretagne.’ Archives of the Loire Inférieure, Nantes. GILLES DE RAIS 18% and companions of those times completely turned the young man’s head, even if they did not then debase his nature, as we shall presently inquire. And, intoxicated with vanity, he strove to vie, not with other nobles even of the highest degree, but with Kings and sovereign Princes. After his appointment as Marshal of France he surrounded himself—at home as well as at the wars —with a military household. He maintained a private bodyguard of thirty chosen men-at-arms and more than two hundred horse. There were pages, squires and knights around him, all splendidly equipped and clad ; a perfect court, such as many of the highest could not provide for in those days. We know he signed simply ‘Gilles’ like a monarch; and in the same spirit he had heralds and pursuivants, the chief of whom was called ‘ Rais-le-héraut.’! Roger de Bricqueville, a Norman noble of a good house, was his major-domo; Hicquet de Brémont, another noble, was the governor of his pages; and Abbé Bossard thinks that Jean Chartier, the famous chronicler, who of all the contemporary writers gives the most particulars about the Marshal, was at least for a time attached to his chantry. All his retainers were lodged, fed, and well paid. He provided them with horses and harness, and replenished their wardrobes two or three times a year; such indeed was the pride which he took in surrounding himself with a well-equipped 1 From a document communicated to Abbé Bossard by M. Doinel. 182 BLUEBEARD bodyguard, and in living, as’ his heirs subse- quently complained, ‘not according to the condition of a Baron, but according to that of a Prince.’! Gilles also maintained an ecclesiastical household —a chantry and a chapter—in such wise that at Machecoul and Tiffauges, two of his principal residences, one found some five-and-twenty or thirty clerics, who, like his military retainers, lived splendidly at his expense. There was a Dean, Messire de la Ferriére ; several chanters ; an Arch- deacon, Messire Jourdain ; a Curate, Olivier Martin; a Treasurer of the Chapter, Jean Rossignol; a schoolmaster; with Canons, chaplains, coadjutors, and clerks, in addition to numerous choir-boys. Gilles, who, by virtue of his fiefs in Poitou, was, himself, a lay Canon of St. Hilaire-le-Grand of Poitiers,” bestowed the title of Bishop on the chief dignitary of his collegiate, and his great ambition appears to have been to raise his clerics to the status enjoyed by the clergy of a cathedral. If one may believe the ‘ Mémoire’ of his heirs, he actually sent deputations to Rome requesting that his Canons might be authorized to wear the cafpa magna and the mitre, like prelates or like certain Canons of Lyons. But the Pope, warned by the Rais family, who at last took steps to check the Marshal’s pro- digality, would never allow this request, nor even authorize the collegiate which Gilles had endowed. 1 Bossard, /.¢., p. 60. 2 The Counts of Poitou were ex officio Abbots of St. Hilaire, and their great vassals were Canons. GILLES DE RAIS 183 The Marshal, it would seem, repeatedly had trouble in this matter with Jean de Malestroit, the Breton Chancellor and Bishop of Nantes. Still, that did not disturb the churchmen who had rallied to him; and they had good reason for remaining at their posts, as they were remunerated, says Abbé Bossard, with ridiculous prodigality, some of them receiving as much as four hundred crowns—about 4 800—a year, and at the same time being lodged, boarded and clad entirely at their patron’s expense, so that they never had occasion to disburse a single sol. Even as Joan of Arc was preceded on the advance to Orleans by priests and monks chanting the ‘Veni Creator,’ so Gilles—who, it may be, borrowed the idea from what he had witnessed during the Maid’s Progress—was accompanied on all his journeys by his clerical retainers, each mounted on horseback and followed by a body servant. They lived on the fat of the land wherever it pleased Monseigneur le Maréchal to halt. At home and in the towns where he sojourned, he arrayed them, says the ‘Mémoire’ of his heirs, in long sweeping robes of scarlet and other fine cloths, ‘ furred with sable, badger and minever, and other splendid furs, and plumes besides.’ In church they wore surplices of the finest tissue, ‘ with amices and choir-hats of badger lined with minever, such as the Canons of cathedrals have, and as if they had really been of great estate and great science.’ For travelling wear, their patron furnished them with chaperons and gowns of the best cloth, but these 184 BLUEBEARD gowns were ‘short in order that they might ride more comfortably.’ Then horses and ambling nags were provided for them, with servants and chests to carry their belongings, to such effect ‘that none remembered nor ever expected to see such super- fluity, excess, and unreasonable expenditure even in the chantry of a King of France.’ Whenever Gilles desired to secure the services of any particular cleric he did not hesitate to offer him the most costly presents ; and if he heard of a man or boy with a particularly fine voice in any church, however distant, he made every effort to procure him for his chantry. Rossignol, who became the treasurer of his collegiate, had been a choir-boy at St. Hilaire, at Poitiers ; and Gilles was so struck with his fine voice that to induce him to enter his service he gave him an estate called La Riviére, near Machecoul, yielding two hundred livres a year ; besides offering his parents, needy people of La Rochelle, a gift of three hundred crowns. Again, Mass was celebrated with the greatest magnificence at the Marshal’s castles. Cloth of gold and silk of the finest quality procurable served for the vestments of his chaplains. He never bargained with merchants. He paid them whatever they asked, and his prodigality was so well known that they did not hesitate to charge him twice and three times as much as they charged other customers. The ell of cloth of gold, then worth from twenty-five to thirty golden crowns, was sometimes paid by him 1 ¢ Mémoire des Héritiers.’ GILLES DE RAIS 185 at the rate of sixty and even eighty. He would purchase a pair of Paris orphreys for three or four hundred crowns, when their value was less than one hundred; and it is recorded that once he went so far as to give fourteen thousand crowns (about %25,000!) for three copes of cloth of gold, when they were worth less than a third of that amount.! But all that was as nothing. A Parisian goldsmith was specially attached to the Marshal's service. His candlesticks, censers, crosses, osculatories, servers, chalices, pyxes and reliquaries — among them being, it seems, a bust or head of St. Honoré —were all of massive gold or silver, finely chased, adorned with precious stones and brilliant enamels, the perfection of the workmanship surpassing even the splendour of the materials. And to increase the pomp of his religious services Gilles procured several organs, large and small ones, which cost him con- siderable sums. Music indeed was one of his great passions—he often chanted the psalms with his own chantry—and he at last had some portable organs made, which followed him on all his military expedi- tions and journeys, borne sometimes on chariots, sometimes on the shoulders of six vigorous men. Thus there was nothing novel in the practice of those English officers who carried pianos with them in the course of the Boer War. Rais did not confine his liberality to his retainers. He kept open hall wherever he might be. The traveller might enter freely, the board was always 1 ‘Mémoire des Héritiers.’ 186 BLUEBEARD spread for him, and hypocras and fine wines flowed abundantly.! Gilles even clothed strangers, not merely beggars, but all who chose to accept his gifts ; distributing at times as many as 100 and 120 gowns among as many people. It is not surprising, therefore, to find that he was surrounded by parasites in addition to his ordinary retainers. And one and all helped themselves freely, junketing at his ex- pense, now at Tiffauges, now at Machecoul, now at Nantes, now at Angers, now elsewhere. He had mansions in both of the last-named cities. Of that at Angers we only know that it was called the Hétel de la Belle-Poigne. The one at Nantes, the Hétel de la Suze, faced the Rue Notre Dame, near the Cathedral, its site now being occupied by the Hétel de la Thuillaye. It surpassed in magnificence the palace of the Duke of Brittany. The vaulted roof of the oratory was finely painted, we are told ; the windows were of stained glass of rare artistry ; and the walls were covered with cloth of gold. In other parts of that splendid abode, in addition to the tapestry of Flanders and the stamped leather of Spain, one found Oriental hangings and carpets acquired from the few merchant-princes who then traded, either through the Genoese or the Venetians, with the East. But Gilles, it appears, regarded his mansions of Nantes and Angers as mere pieds-a-terre ; he preferred his various castles, where he ruled in all sovereignty, dispensing high and low justice as he pleased—Champtocé, Machecoul, Pouzauges, and 1 ‘Mémoire des Héritiers.’ GILLES DE RAIS 187 Tiffauges, the last-named, which was both the most formidable as a fortress and the most magnificent as a pleasure-house, being his favourite place of sojourn. Yet his was a restless nature. Apart from the campaigns already chronicled, he seems to have undertaken many journeys. There are indications that he once went to Lyons, perhaps with the King, in June, 1433 (when there is no trace of him else- where), for we know that if he desired to clothe the Canons of his Chapter like those of that city, it was because he had been personally struck by the latter’s appearance; and it seems! that on the occasion indicated Charles VII. visited the primatial church of St. Jean of Lyons, garbed himself in a Canon’s vestments, and, thus attired, took his seat in the choir. [It is possible, therefore, that this was the particular ceremony which impressed the Marshal de Rais and impelled him to solicit permission to array his own Canons in the capfpa magna. Again there is evidence? that, some time between 1430 and 1436, Gilles made extensive military preparations for an expedition to Langres, on the confines of Champagne and Burgundy, perhaps in connection with the vigorous efforts of the famous Barbazan to prevent Duke Philip the Good from exercising authority in the former province, which the English had assigned to him. Then, in other documents concerning the Marshal, there are references to 1 V. de Viriville, vol. ii, p. 310. 2