One
of the greatest encouragers of alchymy in the fifteenth century was Gilles
de Laval, Lord of Rays and a Marshal of France. His name and deeds are
little known; but in the annals of crime and folly, they might claim the
highest and worst pro-eminence. Fiction has never invented anything wilder
or more horrible than his career; and were not the details but too well
authenticated by legal and other documents which admit no doubt, the lover
of romance might easily imagine they were drawn to please him from the
stores of the prolific brain, and not from the page of history.
He
was born about the year 1420, of one of the noblest families of Brittany.
His father dying when Gilles had attained his twentieth year, he came
into uncontrolled possession, at that early age, of a fortune which the
monarchs of France might have envied him. He was a near kinsman of the
Montmorencys, the Roncys, and the Craons; possessed fifteen princely domains,
and had an annual revenue of about three hundred thousand livres. Besides
this, he was handsome, learned, and brave. He distinguished himself greatly
in the wars of Charles VII, and was rewarded by that monarch with the
dignity of a marshal of France. But he was extravagant and magnificent
in his style of living, and accustomed from his earliest years to the
gratification of every wish and passion; and this, at last, led him from
vice to vice, and from crime to crime, till a blacker name than his is
not to be found in any record of human iniquity.
In
his castle of Champtoce, he lived with all the splendour of an Eastern
Caliph. He kept up a troop of two hundred horsemen to accompany him wherever
he went; and his excursions for the purposes of hawking and hunting were
the wonder of all the country around, so magnificent were the caparisons
of his steeds and the dresses of his retainers. Day and night, his castle
was open all the year round to comers of every degree. He made it a rule
to regale even the poorest beggar with wine and hippocrass. Every day
an ox was roasted whole in his spacious kitchens, besides sheep, pigs,
and poultry sufficient to feed five hundred persons. He was equally magnificent
in his devotions. His private chapel at Champtoce was the most beautiful
in France, and far surpassed any of those in the richly-endowed cathedrals
of Notre Dame in Paris, of Amiens, of Beauvais, or of Rouen. It was hung
with cloth of gold and rich velvet. All the chandeliers were of pure gold,
curiously inlaid with silver. The great crucifix over the altar was of
solid silver, and the chalices and incense-burners were of pure gold.
He had, besides, a fine organ, which he caused to be carried from one
castle to another, on the shoulders of six men, whenever he changed his
residence. He kept up a choir of twenty-five young children of both sexes,
who were instructed in singing by the first musicians of the day. The
master of his chapel he called a bishop, who had under him his deans,
archdeacons, and vicars, each receiving great salaries; the bishop four
hundred crowns a year, and the rest in proportion.
He
also maintained a whole troop of players, including ten dancing-girls
and as many ballad-singers, besides morris-dancers, jugglers, and mountebanks
of every description. The theatre on which they performed was fitted up
without any regard to expense; and they played mysteries, or danced the
morris-dance, every evening, for the amusement of himself and household,
and such strangers as were sharing his prodigal hospitality.
At
the age of twenty-three, he married Catherine, the wealthy heiress of
the house of Touars, for whom he refurnished his castle at an expense
of a hundred thousand crowns. His marriage was the signal for new extravagance,
and he launched out more madly than ever he had done before; sending for
fine singers or celebrated dancers from foreign countries to amuse him
and his spouse, and instituting tilts and tournaments in his great court-yard
almost every week for all the knights and nobles of the province of Brittany.
The Duke of Brittany's court was not half so splendid as that of the Marechal
de Rays. His utter disregard of wealth was so well known that he was made
to pay three times its value for everything he purchased. His castle was
filled with needy parasites and panderers to his pleasures, amongst whom
he lavished rewards with an unsparing hand. But the ordinary round of
sensual gratification ceased at last to afford him delight: he was observed
to be more abstemious in the pleasures of the table, and to neglect the
beauteous dancing-girls who used formerly to occupy so much of his attention.
He was sometimes gloomy and reserved; and there was an unnatural wildness
in his eye which gave indications of incipient madness. Still, his discourse
was as reasonable as ever; his urbanity to the guests that flocked from
far and near to Champtoce suffered no diminution; and learned priests,
when they conversed with him, thought to themselves that few of the nobles
of France were so well-informed as Gilles de Laval. But dark rumours spread
gradually over the country; murder, and, if possible, still more atrocious
deeds were hinted at; and it was remarked that many young children, of
both sexes, suddenly disappeared, and were never afterwards heard of.
One or two had been traced to the castle of Champtoce, and had never been
seen to leave it; but no one dared to accuse openly so powerful a man
as the Marechal de Rays. Whenever the subject of the lost children was
mentioned in his presence, he manifested the greatest astonishment at
the mystery which involved their fate, and indignation against those who
might be guilty of kidnapping them. Still the world was not wholly deceived;
his name became as formidable to young children as that of the devouring
ogre in fairy tales; and they were taught to go miles round, rather than
pass under the turrets of Champtoce.
In
the course of a very few years, the reckless extravagance of the Marshal
drained him of all his funds, and he was obliged to put up some of his
estates for sale. The Duke of Brittany entered into a treaty with him
for the valuable seignory of Ingrande; but the heirs of Gilles implored
the interference of Charles VII. to stay the sale. Charles immediately
issued an edict, which was confirmed by the Provincial Parliament of Brittany,
forbidding him to alienate his paternal estates. Gilles had no alternative
but to submit. He had nothing to support his extravagance but his allowance
as a Marshal of France, which did not cover the one-tenth of his expenses.
A man of his habits and character could not retrench his wasteful expenditure
and live reasonably; he could not dismiss without a pang his horsemen,
his jesters, his morris-dancers, his choristers, and his parasites, or
confine his hospitality to those who really needed it. Notwithstanding
his diminished resources, he resolved to live as he had lived before,
and turn alchymist, that he might make gold out of iron, and be still
the wealthiest and most magnificent among the nobles of Brittany.
In
pursuance of this determination he sent to Paris, Italy, Germany, and
Spain, inviting all the adepts in the science to visit him at Champtoce.
The messengers he despatched on this mission were two of his most needy
and unprincipled dependants, Gilles de Sille and Roger de Bricqueville.
The latter, the obsequious panderer to his most secret and abominable
pleasures, he had intrusted with the education of his motherless daughter,
a child but five years of age, with permission, that he might marry her
at the proper time to any person he chose, or to himself if he liked it
better. This man entered into the new plans of his master with great zeal,
and introduced to him one Prelati, an alchymist of Padua, and a physician
of Poitou, who was addicted to the same pursuits. The Marshal caused a
splendid laboratory to be fitted up for them, and the three commenced
the search for the philosopher's stone. They were soon afterwards joined
by another pretended philosopher, named Anthony of Palermo, who aided
in their operations for upwards of a year. They all fared sumptuously
at the Marshal's expense, draining him of the ready money he possessed,
and leading him on from day to day with the hope that they would succeed
in the object of their search. From time to time new aspirants from the
remotest parts of Europe arrived at his castle, and for months he had
upwards of twenty alchymists at work - trying to transmute copper into
gold, and wasting the gold, which was still his own, in drugs and elixirs.
But
the Lord of Rays was not a man to abide patiently their lingering processes.
Pleased with their comfortable quarters, they jogged on from day to day,
and would have done so for years, had they been permitted. But he suddenly
dismissed them all, with the exception of the Italian Prelati, and the
physician of Poitou. These he retained to aid him to discover the secret
of the philosopher's stone by a bolder method. The Poitousan had persuaded
him that the devil was the great depositary of that and all other secrets,
and that he would raise him before Gilles, who might enter into any contract
he pleased with him. Gilles expressed his readiness, and promised to give
the devil anything but his soul, or do any deed that the arch-enemy might
impose upon him. Attended solely by the physician, he proceeded at midnight
to a wild-looking place in a neighbouring forest; the physician drew a
magic circle around them on the sward, and muttered for half an hour an
invocation to the Evil Spirit to arise at his bidding, and disclose the
secrets of alchymy. Gilles looked on with intense interest, and expected
every moment to see the earth open, and deliver to his gaze the great
enemy of mankind. At last the eyes of the physician became fixed, his
hair stood on end, and he spoke, as if addressing the fiend. But Gilles
saw nothing except his companion. At last the physician fell down on the
sward as if insensible. Gilles looked calmly on to see the end. After
a few minutes the physician arose, and asked him if he had not seen how
angry the devil looked? Gilles replied, that he had seen nothing; upon
which his companion informed him that Beelzebub had appeared in the form
of a wild leopard, growled at him savagely, and said nothing; and that
the reason why the Marshal had neither seen nor heard him, was that he
hesitated in his own mind as to devoting himself entirely to the service.
De Rays owned that he had indeed misgivings, and inquired what was to
be done to make the devil speak out, and unfold his secret? The physician
replied, that some person must go to Spain and Africa to collect certain
herbs which only grew in those countries, and offered to go himself, if
De Rays would provide the necessary funds. De Rays at once consented;
and the physician set out on the following day with all the gold that
his dupe could spare him. The Marshal never saw his face again.
But
the eager Lord of Champtoce could not rest. Gold was necessary for his
pleasures; and unless, by supernatural aid, he had no means of procuring
many further supplies. The physician was hardly twenty leagues on his
journey, before Gilles resolved to make another effort to force the devil
to divulge the art of gold making. He went out alone for that purpose,
but all his conjurations were of no effect. Beelzebub was obstinate, and
would not appear. Determined to conquer him if he could, he unbosomed
himself to the Italian alchymist, Prelati. The latter offered to undertake
the business, upon condition that De Rays did not interfere in the conjurations,
and consented besides to furnish him with all the charms and talismans
that might be required. He was further to open a vein in his arm, and
sign with his blood a contract that he would work the devil's will in
all things, and offer up to him a sacrifice of the heart, lungs, hands,
eyes, and blood of a young child. The grasping monomaniac made no hesitation;
but agreed at once to the disgusting terms proposed to him. On the following
night, Prelati went out alone; and after having been absent for three
or four hours, returned to Gilles, who sat anxiously awaiting him. Prelati
then informed him that he had seen the devil in the shape of a handsome
youth of twenty. He further said, that the devil desired to be called
Barron in all future invocations; and had shown him a great number of
ingots of pure gold, buried under a large oak in the neighbouring forest,
all of which, and as many more as he desired, should become the property
of the Marechal de Rays if he remained firm, and broke no condition of
the contract. Prelati further showed him a small casket of black dust,
which would turn iron into gold; but as the process was very troublesome,
he advised that they should be contented with the ingots they found under
the oak tree, and which would more than supply all the wants that the
most extravagant imagination could desire. They were not, however, to
attempt to look for the gold till a period of seven times seven weeks,
or they would find nothing but slates and stones for their pains. Gilles
expressed the utmost chagrin and disappointment, and at once said that
he could not wait for so long a period; if the devil were not more prompt,
Prelati might tell him, that the Marechal de Rays was not to be trifled
with, and would decline all further communication with him. Prelati at
last persuaded him to wait seven times seven days. They then went at midnight
with picks and shovels to dig up the ground under the oak, where they
found nothing to reward them but a great quantity of slates, marked with
hieroglyphics. It was now Prelati's turn to be angry; and he loudly swore
that the devil was nothing but a liar and a cheat. The Marshal joined
cordially in the opinion, but was easily persuaded by the cunning Italian
to make one more trial. He promised at the same time that he would endeavour,
on the following night, to discover the reason why the devil had broken
his word. He went out alone accordingly, and on his return informed his
patron that he had seen Barron, who was exceedingly angry that they had
not waited the proper time ere they looked for the ingots. Barron had
also said, that the Marechal de Rays could hardly expect any favours from
him, at a time when he must know that he had been meditating a pilgrimage
to the Holy Land, to make atonement for his sins. The Italian had doubtless
surmised this, from some incautious expression of his patron, for De Rays
frankly confessed that there were times when, sick of the world and all
its pomps and vanities, he thought of devoting himself to the service
of God.
In
this manner the Italian lured on from month to month his credulous and
guilty patron, extracting from him all the valuables he possessed, and
only waiting a favourable opportunity to decamp with his plunder. But
the day of retribution was at hand for both. Young girls and boys continued
to disappear in the most mysterious manner; and the rumours against the
owner of Champtoce grew so loud and distinct, that the Church was compelled
to interfere. Representations were made by the Bishop of Nantes to the
Duke of Brittany, that it would be a public scandal if the accusations
against the Marechal de Rays were not inquired into. He was arrested accordingly
in his own castle, along with his accomplice Prelati, and thrown into
a dungeon at Nantes to await his trial.
The
judges appointed to try him were the Bishop of Nantes Chancellor of Brittany,
the Vicar of the Inquisition in France, and the celebrated Pierre l'Hopital,
the President of the Provincial Parliament. The offences laid to his charge
were sorcery, sodomy, and murder. Gilles, on the first day of his trial,
conducted himself with the utmost insolence. He braved the judges on the
judgment seat, calling them simoniacs and persons of impure life, and
said he would rather be hanged by the neck like a dog without trial, than
plead either guilty or not guilty to such contemptible miscreants. But
his confidence forsook him as the trial proceeded, and he was found guilty
on the clearest evidence of all the crimes laid to his charge. It was
proved that he took insane pleasure in stabbing the victims of his lust,
and in observing the quivering of their flesh, and the fading lustre of
their eyes as they expired. The confession of Prelati first made the judges
acquainted with this horrid madness, and Gilles himself confirmed it before
his death. Nearly a hundred children of the villagers around his two castles
of Champtoce and Machecoue, had been missed within three years the greater
part, if not all, of whom were immolated to the lust or the cupidity of
this monster. He imagined that he thus made the devil his friend, and
that his recompence would be the secret of the philosopher's stone.
Gilles
and Prelati were both condemned to be burned alive. At the place of execution
they assumed the air of penitence and religion. Gilles tenderly embraced
Prelati, saying, "Farewell, friend Francis! In this world we shall
never meet again; but let us place our hopes in God; we shall see each
other in Paradise." Out of consideration for his high rank and connections,
the punishment of the Marshal was so far mitigated, that he was not burned
alive like Prelati. He was first strangled, and then thrown into the flames:
his body, when half consumed, was given over to his relatives for interment;
while that of the Italian was burned to ashes, and then scattered in the
winds. [For full details of this extraordinary trial, see "Lobineau's
Nouvelle Histoire de Bretagne;" and D'Argentre's work on the same
subject.]
Charles
Mackay. Memoirs of Popular Delusions Vol. 3
|
|
|