Notre-Dame de Paris
provostship of Paris; for the silver, making, and engraving of
said seals, which have been made new because the others
preceding, by reason of their antiquity and their worn condition,
could no longer be successfully used, twelve livres parisis.
“To Guillaume Frère, the sum of four livres, four sols parisis,
for his trouble and salary, for having nourished and fed the
doves in the two dove-cots of the Hôtel des Tournelles, during
the months of January, February, and March of this year; and for
this he hath given seven sextiers of barley.
“To a gray friar for confessing a criminal, four sols parisis.”
The king listened in silence. From time to time he coughed; then
he raised the goblet to his lips and drank a draught with a
grimace.
“During this year there have been made by the ordinance of
justice, to the sound of the trumpet, through the squares of
Paris, fifty-six proclamations. Account to be regulated.
“For having searched and ransacked in certain places, in Paris as
well as elsewhere, for money said to be there concealed; but
nothing hath been found: forty-five livres parisis.”
“Bury a crown to unearth a sou!” said the king.
“For having set in the Hôtel des Tournelles six panes of white
glass in the place where the iron cage is, thirteen sols; for
having made and delivered by command of the king, on the day of
the musters, four shields with the escutcheons of the said
seigneur, encircled with garlands of roses all about, six livres;
for two new sleeves to the king’s old doublet, twenty sols; for a
box of grease to grease the boots of the king, fifteen deniers; a
stable newly made to lodge the king’s black pigs, thirty livres
parisis; many partitions, planks, and trap-doors, for the
safekeeping of the lions at Saint-Paul, twenty-two livres.”
“These be dear beasts,” said Louis XI. “It matters not; it is a
fine magnificence in a king. There is a great red lion whom I
love for his pleasant ways. Have you seen him, Master Guillaume?
Princes must have these terrific animals; for we kings must have
lions for our dogs and tigers for our cats. The great befits a
crown. In the days of the pagans of Jupiter, when the people
offered the temples a hundred oxen and a hundred sheep, the
emperors gave a hundred lions and a hundred eagles. This was wild
and very fine. The kings of France have always had roarings round
their throne. Nevertheless, people must do me this justice, that
I spend still less money on it than they did, and that I possess
a greater modesty of lions, bears, elephants, and leopards.—Go
on, Master Olivier. We wished to say thus much to our Flemish
friends.”
Guillaume Rym bowed low, while Coppenole, with his surly mien,
had the air of one of the bears of which his majesty was
speaking. The king paid no heed. He had just dipped his lips into
the goblet, and he spat out the beverage, saying: “Foh! what a
disagreeable potion!” The man who was reading continued:—
“For feeding a rascally footpad, locked up these six months in
the little cell of the flayer, until it should be determined what
to do with him, six livres, four sols.”
“What’s that?” interrupted the king; “feed what ought to be
hanged! _Pasque-Dieu!_ I will give not a sou more for that
nourishment. Olivier, come to an understanding about the matter
with Monsieur d’Estouteville, and prepare me this very evening
the wedding of the gallant and the gallows. Resume.”
Olivier made a mark with his thumb against the article of the
“rascally foot soldier,” and passed on.
“To Henriet Cousin, master executor of the high works of justice
in Paris, the sum of sixty sols parisis, to him assessed and
ordained by monseigneur the provost of Paris, for having bought,
by order of the said sieur the provost, a great broad sword,
serving to execute and decapitate persons who are by justice
condemned for their demerits, and he hath caused the same to be
garnished with a sheath and with all things thereto appertaining;
and hath likewise caused to be repointed and set in order the old
sword, which had become broken and notched in executing justice
on Messire Louis de Luxembourg, as will more fully appear....”
The king interrupted: “That suffices. I allow the sum with great
good will. Those are expenses which I do not begrudge. I have
never regretted that money. Continue.”
“For having made over a great cage....”
“Ah!” said the king, grasping the arms of his chair in both
hands, “I knew well that I came hither to this Bastille for some
purpose. Hold, Master Olivier; I desire to see that cage myself.
You shall read me the cost while I am examining it. Messieurs
Flemings, come and see this; ’tis curious.”
Then he rose, leaned on the arm of his interlocutor, made a sign
to the sort of mute who stood before the door to precede him, to
the two Flemings to follow him, and quitted the room.
The royal company was recruited, at the door of the retreat, by
men of arms, all loaded down with iron, and by slender pages
bearing flambeaux. It marched for some time through the interior
of the gloomy donjon, pierced with staircases and corridors even
in the very thickness of the walls. The captain of the Bastille
marched at their head, and caused the wickets to be opened before
the bent and aged king, who coughed as he walked.
At each wicket, all heads were obliged to stoop, except that of
the old man bent double with age. “Hum,” said he between his
gums, for he had no longer any teeth, “we are already quite
prepared for the door of the sepulchre. For a low door, a bent
passer.”
At length, after having passed a final wicket, so loaded with
locks that a quarter of an hour was required to open it, they
entered a vast and lofty vaulted hall, in the centre of which
they could distinguish by the light of the torches, a huge cubic
mass of masonry, iron, and wood. The interior was hollow. It was
one of those famous cages of prisoners of state, which were
called “the little daughters of the king.” In its walls there
were two or three little windows so closely trellised with stout
iron bars; that the glass was not visible. The door was a large
flat slab of stone, as on tombs; the sort of door which serves
for entrance only. Only here, the occupant was alive.
The king began to walk slowly round the little edifice, examining
it carefully, while Master Olivier, who followed him, read aloud
the note.
“For having made a great cage of wood of solid beams, timbers and
wall-plates, measuring nine feet in length by eight in breadth,
and of the height of seven feet between the partitions, smoothed
and clamped with great bolts of iron, which has been placed in a
chamber situated in one of the towers of the Bastille
Saint-Antoine, in which cage is placed and detained, by command
of the king our lord, a prisoner who formerly inhabited an old,
decrepit, and ruined cage. There have been employed in making the
said new cage, ninety-six horizontal beams, and fifty-two upright
joists, ten wall plates three toises long; there have been
occupied nineteen carpenters to hew, work, and fit all the said
wood in the courtyard of the Bastille during twenty days.”
“Very fine heart of oak,” said the king, striking the woodwork
with his fist.
“There have been used in this cage,” continued the other, “two
hundred and twenty great bolts of iron, of nine feet, and of
eight, the rest of medium length, with the rowels, caps and
counterbands appertaining to the said bolts; weighing, the said
iron in all, three thousand, seven hundred and thirty-five
pounds; beside eight great squares of iron, serving to attach the
said cage in place with clamps and nails weighing in all two
hundred and eighteen pounds, not reckoning the iron of the
trellises for the windows of the chamber wherein the cage hath
been placed, the bars of iron for the door of the cage and other
things.”
“’Tis a great deal of iron,” said the king, “to contain the light
of a spirit.”
“The whole amounts to three hundred and seventeen livres, five
sols, seven deniers.”
“_Pasque-Dieu!_” exclaimed the king.
At this oath, which was the favorite of Louis XI., some one
seemed to awaken in the interior of the cage; the sound of chains
was heard, grating on the floor, and a feeble voice, which seemed
to issue from the tomb was uplifted. “Sire! sire! mercy!” The one
who spoke thus could not be seen.
“Three hundred and seventeen livres, five sols, seven deniers,”
repeated Louis XI. The lamentable voice which had proceeded from
the cage had frozen all present, even Master Olivier himself. The
king alone wore the air of not having heard. At his order, Master
Olivier resumed his reading, and his majesty coldly continued his
inspection of the cage.
“In addition to this there hath been paid to a mason who hath
made the holes wherein to place the gratings of the windows, and
the floor of the chamber where the cage is, because that floor
could not support this cage by reason of its weight, twenty-seven
livres fourteen sols parisis.”
The voice began to moan again.
“Mercy, sire! I swear to you that ’twas Monsieur the Cardinal
d’Angers and not I, who was guilty of treason.”
“The mason is bold!” said the king. “Continue, Olivier.”
Olivier continued,—
“To a joiner for window frames, bedstead, hollow stool, and other
things, twenty livres, two sols parisis.”
The voice also continued.
“Alas, sire! will you not listen to me? I protest to you that
’twas not I who wrote the matter to Monseigneur de Guyenne, but
Monsieur le Cardinal Balue.”
“The joiner is dear,” quoth the king. “Is that all?”
“No, sire. To a glazier, for the windows of the said chamber,
forty-six sols, eight deniers parisis.”
“Have mercy, sire! Is it not enough to have given all my goods to
my judges, my plate to Monsieur de Torcy, my library to Master
Pierre Doriolle, my tapestry to the governor of the Roussillon? I
am innocent. I have been shivering in an iron cage for fourteen
years. Have mercy, sire! You will find your reward in heaven.”
“Master Olivier,” said the king, “the total?”
“Three hundred sixty-seven livres, eight sols, three deniers
parisis.
“Notre-Dame!” cried the king. “This is an outrageous cage!”
He tore the book from Master Olivier’s hands, and set to
reckoning it himself upon his fingers, examining the paper and
the cage alternately. Meanwhile, the prisoner could be heard
sobbing. This was lugubrious in the darkness, and their faces
turned pale as they looked at each other.
“Fourteen years, sire! Fourteen years now! since the month of
April, 1469. In the name of the Holy Mother of God, sire, listen
to me! During all this time you have enjoyed the heat of the sun.