The Strangled Queen (20 page)

A certain excitement began to ripple-among, the ranks of the barons, and among the functionaries a certain fear. When it came to the turn of the Provosts and Receivers of Taxes for the region of Montfort-l'Amaury, Neauphle, Dourdan and Dreux, upon whom Tolomei had furnished the most precise evidences of guilt to the "reformers," there were marked signs of anger from those in the King's neighbourhood. But the most indignant of the lords
was Marigny, who showed his fury the most clearly. Suddenly his voice drowned all others, and he harangued h
is subordinates with a violence
which made them bend their heads. He demanded restitution and promised punishment. Suddenly Monseigneur of Valois, rising to his feet, interrupted him.

"You are playing a fine part for our benefit, Messire Enguerrand," he cried, "but shouting so loudly at these scoundrels will do you no good, because they are the very men whom you have placed in these positions, they are devoted to you, and it is clear that you have shared their loot."

Such absolute silence followed upon this declaration that a dog could be heard barking in the neighbouring countryside. The Hutin did not know where to look; he had not been expecting an accusation of this kind.

Everyone held his breath as
Marigny advanced upon Charles of Val
ois.

"Me, . Monseigneur," he said hoarsely. , "Me, have you dared to accuse me? If a single one of this rift-raff" (he indicated with his open hand the assembled receivers of taxes) "if a single one of these bad servants of the k
ingdom can come out and affirm
upon his conscience, swear upon his oath, that he has paid me any bribe, or given me the least part of his receipts, let him come forward."

Then, pushed forward by Robert of Artois's great hand, a man advanced, trembling, short-a
rmed, round of face, and with a
hideous birthmark at the corner of his eyebrow.

``Who, are you? What have you got to say? Do you want to be hanged? " asked Marigny.

Master Portefruit sta
y
ed silent, though he had been well briefed, first by Guccio, then by the Count of Dreux; Lord of Montfort, and finally by Robert of Artois into whose presence he had been brought the day before. His life was to be spared, and even the profits he had amassed, upon condition that he brought false witness against Marigny.
"Well, what have you got to say?
" Valois asked in his turn. "Do not be afraid of confes
sing the truth, because our well
-loved King is here to listen and render justice."

Portefruit went down on one knee before Louis X and, spread
ing wide his arms, said in so feeble a voice that there was difficulty in hearing him, "Sire, I am most culpable, but I was compelled to act as I have by the secretary of Monseigneur de Marigny, who each year demanded a quarter of the taxes for the benefit of his master."

Marigny kicked the Provost
of
Montfort asid
e with his foot, and the latter
having accomplished his filthy business, hastened to lose himself in the crowd.

"Sire," said Enguerrand, "there is no single word of truth in what that man has said; he is acting under instruction, but whose instruction? I see it all too clearly. I can be accused of ill-placed confidence in these rascals whose dishonesty has now been made apparent; I can be accused of not having sufficiently overseen them, of not having sent
a
round dozen of them to be broken on the wheel, and I will accept the blame, even
though
for the last
four months I have
had all disciplinary powers over them taken from me. But let no one accuse me of theft. This is the
second
time, Messire de Valois, and this time I
will tolerate it no
longer."

Turning
towards the King with a wide, dramatic gesture, the Count of Valois cried, "Nephew, we have been deceived by a wicked man who has been too long in our counsels, and whose misdeeds have brought curses upon our house. He is the cause of the extortions of which the country complains and has, for the sake of his own private gain, made treaties with the Flemings to the country's shame. This was the cause of your father's falling into a 'depression from,' which he died before his time. It is Enguerrand who is responsible for his death. As for me, I am prepared to prove that he is a thief and that he has betrayed the kingdom, and if you do not have him immediately arrested, I s
wear to God that I
will no
longer
appear at your Court nor at your Council."

"It's
a damned lie!" cried Marigny.

"Before God, it is you who are lying, Enguerrand," replied Valois.

Thereupon, he threw himself at Marigny's throat, seized him by the collar, and these two men, these two wild beasts of whom one was Emperor of Constantinople and the other had his statue

among those of the Kings, hurling insults at each other, raising the dust
about them, began fighting like
a couple of labourers in the presence of the whole Court and the whole administration of the Council.

The barons had risen to their feet, the provosts and receivers of taxes had moved backwards, tumbling their benches over in their terror. Suddenly there was a loud laugh. It was The Hutin who had been unable to play the role of Saint Louis to the end.

More infuriated by the laugh than by the shameful spectacle
of
the two combatan
ts, Philippe of Poitiers came forward and
with unexpected strength, separated the two opponents and held them apart at the full extent of his long arms. Marigny and Valois were gasping, their faces crimson, their clothes torn.

"How dare you, Uncle.? " said Philippe of Poitiers. "Marigny, control yourself, I order you to do so. Go
home and calm down -"

The strength and authority of this boy of twenty-one had its effect upon these men of double his age.

"Go, Marigny,
I tell
you" insisted Philippe
of Poiti
ers. "Bouville!
Lead him away."

Marigny permitted himself to be led away by Bouville and went towards the gate of the manor of Vincennes. People scattered before him as if he were a fighting bull escaped from the
toril
;

Valois remained where, he was; he was trembling with fury and kept repeating, "I'll have him hanged; as true as I'm standing here, I'll have him hanged."

Louis X
had stopped laughing. His brother's intervention had given him; an object lesson in authority. Moreover, he was suddenly aware that he had been tricked. He rose from his chair, drew his cloak about his shoulders and sa
id sharply to Valois, "Uncle, I
must speak to you at once; please follow me."

3. A Slaughter of Doves

"You gave me your assurance, Uncle," cried Louis The Hutin,
pacing nervously up and down one of the rooms of the Manor of Vincennes,
"you
gave me your assurance that this time there was no question of accusing Marigny, and you have done it! It is taking too much advantage of nn goodwill."

When he came to the end of the room he turned quickly about, and his cloak described a circle about his calves.

"How
can one keep one's temper, Nephew, in face of suc
h villainy..,.' replied Charles
of Valois, still panting from
his fight, and holding the
pieces of his torn collar.

He was speaking almost in good faith and could now persuade himself that he had yielded to a
spontaneous impulse,
when in reality the comedy had been decided upon two months ago;

"You know very well that I need a Pope, and you know too that only Marigny can make one for me; Bouville has made that perfectly clear! " went on The Hutin.

"Bouville! Bouville!
You believe only the information that Bouville brought back with him, and he saw nothing and understa
nds nothing. The young Lombard
who was sent with him to look after the gold has told me more than your Bouville about matters at Avig
non. I assure you that Marigny
will never succeed in making the Pope you need. In fact, he knows what you want and is putting every obstacle he can in
the way of it, so that you will keep him in power. Where will you be tonight, Nephew?"

"I have decided to stay here," replied, Louis.

"Very well, before evening I shall bring you evidence which will destroy Marigny, and I think then that, you will certainly finish by handing him over to me."

Thereupon Valois left for Paris, taking with him Robert of Artois and the equerries who normally served him as escort. Upon t
heir way they crossed the train
of wagons which were bringing to Vincennes the beds, chests, tables, and crockery for the King's residence during the night; for at that date the royal castles were
n
ot permanently furnished, or were but barely so, and it was necessary to bring all that was wanted with an army of furnishers who arranged everything in a couple of hours.

Valois went back to his house to
change his clothes while sending Robert of Artois to Tolomei's.

"Friend banker," said the giant, "the moment has come for you to give me that document you spoke of, which establishes the thefts committed by Archbishop Marigny from
the possessions of the Templars
- Monseigneur of Valois needs it within the hour.

"That's all very fine, Monseigneur Robert. You are asking me to give up a weapon which has already saved us once, me and all my friends. - If it gives you the means of destroying Marigny, I shall be delighted. But, should Marigny unfortunately survive it, I am a dead man. And then, Monseigneur, and then, I have
been thinking
.
"

Robert was boiling
over during this conversation,
because Valois had told him to make haste, and he knew the value of every wasted moment; but he knew too that by hurrying Tolomei he would obtain nothing.

"Yes, I have been thinking things; over," continued the latter. "The good laws of the time of Monseigneur Saint Louis `which are in process of being restored are an
excellent
thing for the kingdom; but I would like an exception made of the decrees under which the Lombards were chased out of Paris. My friends have spoken to me about it, and I would like an assurance that we shall not be disturbed."

"But listen, Monseigneur of Valois has told you so; he supports you; he protects you!
"

"Yes, yes, fine words, but we should prefer that this was all in writing., The
Lombard companies of which I am
-
as you know, Captain-General, have respectfully prepared a request to the King asking him to confirm our customary privileges; and at this time, when the King is signing every charter placed before him, we much desire that he should sign ours. That done, Monseigneur, I shall most willingly place in your hands the document which can hang, burn or send to the wheel Marigny the younger or Marigny the elder, whichever you like, or indeed both of them at once."

Artois hit the table with his fist, and the whole room shook.

"Enough of this bargaining, Tolomei," he cried. "I have told you that we cannot wait. Give me your petition, and I promise to get it signed; but give me the other parchment at the same time. We are on the, same; side and for once you must trust me."

Tolomei, his hands crossed upon his stomach, sighed.

"Well," he said, "sometimes one has to take a risk; but really; Monseigneur, ''I personally don't like it.
"

And he gave the Count of Artois, with the Lombard's petition, the leaden casket that Guccio had brought back from Cressay. Then he grew afraid and for many days was sick of his fear.

An hour later, at the Episcopal Palace, which was next door to Notre-Dame, the Counts of Valois and
Artois
entered noisily into the presence of Archbishop Jean de Marigny.

In an audience chamber with a vaulted roof, perfumed with incense, the young prelate extended his ring for them to kiss. Valois pretended not to have noticed the gesture, while Artois raised the Archbishop's, fingers to his lips with such an air of impudence that one might have thought he was about to throw the whole hand over his shoulder.

"Monseigneur Jean, said Charles of Valois, "the time has come when you must
tell us by
what means you and your brother have managed to oppose so strongly the election of Cardinal Dueze at Avignon, so that the conclave resembles nothing more than a collection of phantoms."

"But
I count for nothing in the matter,
- Monseigneur, for
nothing at all," replied Jean de Marigny, growing pale but maintaining the unction in his voice. "'I am sure, that my brother is acting for the best to help the King, and as for me, I give what help I can, though the conclave depends upon the cardinals' wishes and not upon ours."

"Very well! " cried Artois, "if that is how things are, if Christianity, can manage without a Pope, the Episcopal See of Sens and of Paris can doubtless manage without an Archbishop!"

"I don't understand you, Monseigneur Robert," said Jean de Marigny, "except that your words are threatening a Minister of God."

"Was it God by any chance, Messire Archbishop, who commanded you to embezzle certain of the Templars' possessions which should have reverted to the Treasury, and, do you think that the King, who is also God's representative upon earth, can tolerate a dishonest prelate upon the Cathedral throne of his capital
city? Do you recognise this?"
concluded Artois, pushing the document given him by Tolomei under the Archbishop's nose.

"It's a forgery
! " cried the Archbishop.

"If it's a forgery," replied Robert of Artois, "let justice be done quickly. Bring a case before the King so th
at the forger may be discovered!
"

"The majesty of the Church would have nothing to gain by it."

"And you everything to lose, I think, Monseigneur."

The Archbishop had sat down in a great chair and was gazing at the walls as if seeking a means of escape. He was caught in a trap, and felt his courage wavering. "They will stop at, nothing," he said to himself; "it really is a pity that all should be ruined merely for the two thousand pounds of which I was in need." He
felt the sweat starting beneath his violet vestments, and saw his whole life destroyed because of a deed already more than a year old, whose profits, had already been dissipated.

"Monseigneur Jean" said Charles'' of Valois "you are still young, and you have a great future before you in the affairs not only of the Church; but of the kingdom. What you have done" (he took the parchment from Robert of Artois's hand) "is an excusable folly at a time when all morality is in decline, and you acted, I imagine, under the influence of evil example. It would be a great pit
y that this fault, which merely
concerns money, should blight the dignity of your fame or shorten your days. For, if by mischance this document were to be seen by the King, in spite of the pain we should all feel, it w
ould lead you to the cloister
or to the stake. My opinion, Monseigneur, is that you are doing the kingdom a great deal more harm by lending your help to your brother's policies against the wishes of the King. If you are prepared to denounce this second error of yours, we shall hold you acquitted of the first."

"What do you ask of me?" said the Archbishop.

"Abandon your brother's party, which is no longer worth anything," said Valois, "and come and confess to King Louis what you know of the wicked instructions you have received about the conclave."

The prelate had feet of clay. He owed his elevation merely to his brother; he had been given a mitre and the most important episcopal
throne in France that he might
condemn the Templars, w
hen most of the bishops refused
the invitation and declined to sit in judgment. B
ut he had panicked in front of
Notre-Dame upon the day of Jacques de Molay's execution. At ordinary times he appeared strong; but he was a coward in the hour of crisis. His fear was such that it did not even give him time to think of his brother to whom he owed everything; he thought of no one but himself and entered easily upon the role of Cain to which he must have been destined since his birth. His treachery was
to
assure him a long life of honours under four successive kings. ,

"You have shown me the way of conscience," he said, "'and I am ready, Monseigneur of Valois, to redeem my error in the way you suggest. I would merely be grateful, if you would give me back that parchment."

"Certainly," said the Count of Valois, giving him the document. "
it is sufficient that the Count
of Artois and myself have seen it; our evidence will be b
elieved by the whole kingdom. '
You will accompany us to
Vincennes at once; there is a
horse ready for you below."

The Archbishop sent for his cloak, his embroidered gloves and his hat, and went slowly, majestically, downstairs in front of the two lords.

"I have never seen," murmured Robert of Artois to Valois, "anyone grovel with such haughtiness."

Every king, every man, has his pleasures, which more than any other action he performs reveal the profound tendencies of his nature. King Louis X had no liking for hunting or fencing or tournaments. From childhood he had enjoyed the game of tennis which was played with leather balls; but above all he enjoyed,
whe
n he was in the country,
finding
some barn
or grain-store where, bow in hand, he could shoot doves on the wing as an equerry released them one by one from a basket.

He was engaged in this cruel sport when his uncle and his cousin brought the Archbishop to
him. The floor of the barn
was littered with feathers and sp
lashes of blood. A dove, nailed
by a wing to a beam, was fluttering and screeching; others, better shot, lay on the, ground, their thin claws folded and contracted upon their breasts. The Hutin exclaimed with joy each time one of his
arrows pierced a
victim. "Another!
" he
called
to the equerry,, who opened the lid of the
basket.

The bird flying
in circles gained height; Louis drew his bow and if the arrow, missing its target, blunted itself upon the wall, he swore at the equerry, for having carelessly released the dove at the wrong moment.

"Nephew," said Charles of Valois, "you seem to b
e more skilful today than ever,
but if you wouldn't mind
interrupting your exploits for a moment, I
wish to, talk to you about those grave matters, we discussed."

"Well, what is it now
?" said The Hutin impatiently.

His brow was damp with sweat and he was excited by his sport. He saw the Archbishop, and signed to the equerry to leave the barn.

"Well, Monseigneur, is it true that you are preventing me from having a Pope?"

"Alas, Sire," said Jean de Marigny, "I have come to reveal certain things which I thought were done at your orders and which I am much pained to learn are in fact contrary to your wishes."

Thereupon, with the greatest appearance of good faith in the world, and a certain unctuous emphasis in his tone of voice, he told the King of all the manoeuvres Enguerrand de Marigny had employed to prevent a meeting of the conclave and to raise
obstacles to the election of Jacques Dueze

"However hard it may be Sire," he concluded, "to have to denounce the wicked act
ions of my brother, it is still
harder for
me to see him acting against the interests of the kingdom. I do not hold him in any particular consideration merely because he is a member of my family, since, when you have a vocation such as mine, you have no real family but in God and the King."

"'Really, the scoundrel almost brings' tears to one's eyes,"' thought Robert of Artois. "The rasc
al knows how to use his tongue!
"

A forgotten dove had perched on the edge of a window. The Hutin loosed an arrow, piercing the bird and breaking the window.

"Well, and where
do I stand now?" he
cried turning sharply abo
ut. Robert of Artois quickly led the
Archbishop away and Valois
remained alone with the King.

"Yes, where do I stand?" he repeated.'" I am betrayed on every side pe
ople promise things and don't
perform them. We are in
the middle of April, the summer
is but six weeks away, and you remember, Uncle, that Madame of
Hungary said, `before summer.'
: Will you succeed in making me a Pope within the next six weeks?"

"Speaking in all honesty, I no
longer
believe it can be done, Nephew."

"Well then, you
see how things are! What's going to happen to me?

"I have advised you often enough since the winter to get rid of Marigny."

"But since that wasn't done, wouldn't it be better to summon Enguerrand reprimand him threate
n, him and order him to act on
the other tack? Isn't he the only man we can use?"