THE MAHL.
The tribunal assembles. The count presides over the _mahl_ on his seat;
seven leudes, ranked on benches on either side, assist him. The
torch-bearing slaves stand behind the judges. The judgment seat is well
lighted, while the rear of the hall, where the other leudes and warriors
of the burg are grouped, remains in semi-obscurity, brightened, however,
from time to time by the reflexion of the fire in the large stove which
the blacksmith of the stables has lighted and blows into flame. The nine
plow-shares are being heated red in the stove. Before the stove, and
even with the ground, is the wide and deep tank filled with water. The
slave charged with larceny stands at the foot of the tribunal with his
arms tied behind his back. He is a young man and looks frightened at the
judges. The accuser, a man of ripe age, contemplates the tribunal
confidently. Agreeable to the usage in such instances, six other slaves
surround the two men. They are chosen by the accuser and the accused to
affirm under oath what they believe to be the truth. They are called
_conjurators_.
"To the trial! To the trial!" cries the count. "Mayor, inform the slave
anew of the charge against him."
"Justin, a cook-slave of our seigneur, the count, happened to be alone
in the kitchen; on the kitchen table lay a small silver dish used by
dame Godegisele, the noble spouse of our master. Peter, this other
slave, entered the kitchen bringing in some kindling wood. Immediately
after his departure, Justin noticed that the silver dish had
disappeared. He immediately announced the theft and accused Peter of
having committed it. I told Justin that one of his ears would be cut off
if the dish was not found. He answered me that he swore by the salvation
of his soul that he told the truth and that the thief was this other
slave."
"And I repeat it again, seigneur count. If the dish was stolen it could
have been stolen only by Peter. I swear it upon my share of paradise. I
am innocent. My _conjurators_ are all ready to swear like myself upon
the salvation of their souls."
"Yes, yes," answered the six slaves in chorus; "we swear that Justin is
innocent of the theft--we swear upon the salvation of our souls, we
swear upon our share of paradise."
"Do you hear, dog?" said Neroweg turning towards Peter. "What have you
to say? What became of the silver dish, a precious article that I
brought from the pillage of the town of Issoire? Will you answer, dog?"
"Seigneur, I did not steal the dish, I did not even see it on the
table--my _conjurators_ are ready to swear to it, like myself, upon my
salvation--upon my share of paradise--"
"Yes, yes," put in the six in their turn, the _conjurators_ of the
accused slave. "Peter is innocent; we swear upon our salvation."
"My dear brother in Christ," said the clerk to the accused slave, "think
of it. It is a grave sin, theft is, and falsehood is another grave sin.
Take care--the Almighty sees and hears you--His hand lies heavy upon
thieves and liars--"
"My good father, I stand in great fear of the Almighty; I follow His
commandments as you teach them to us; I support my trials with
resignation; I obey my master, the seigneur count, with the submission
that you order us to the end that we may gain paradise; but I swear I
did not steal the dish."
"Seigneur count," said Justin, "I swear by the eternal flames that I did
not steal the dish, and only Peter can be the thief--I am innocent."
"Justin affirms and Peter denies; now I, Neroweg, order that, in order
to ascertain the truth, they be both put to the trial--one to the trial
of cold water, the other to the trial of burning irons--"
"Seigneur count," broke in the clerk, "you order that both the accuser
and the accused be subjected to trial. But should the judgment of the
Almighty prove that the accused is guilty, is not the accuser thereby
declared innocent? Why should both be put to the trial at the same
time?"
"If the accused and the accuser agreed between themselves to steal my
dish," replied the count, "and if, in order to remove our suspicions,
they mutually accuse each other, the trial will establish whether they
are both guilty or innocent, or whether one is guilty and the other
innocent."
"Yes, yes," cried the leudes enjoying by anticipation the spectacle of
human suffering; "the double trial!"
"I am not afraid of the trial!" exclaimed Justin in a firm voice. "God
will bear witness to my innocence--"
"And I am quite certain that I did not steal the dish," said Peter
trembling, "and yet I am afraid of the trial!"
"Your companion, my dear son in Christ, sets you the example of a pious
reliance upon divine justice, knowing the Eternal only condemns the
guilty."
"Alas, good father!" said Peter to the clerk, "think of it, if the trial
should turn out against me!"
"My son, it will be a proof that you did steal the dish."
"But no--no--I did not commit the theft."
"In that case, my son, you need have no fear of the judgment of God. His
justice is infallible."
"Oh, good father, I hope you are right!"
"Speak not thus, my dear son. This law is holy, it is the Salic Law, the
law of the Salian Franks, our conquerors. It is placed under protection
by our Lord Jesus Christ. I shall read to you the preamble of the law
in the name of which you are to be subjected to trial:
"'The illustrious nation of the Franks, founded by God, strong in war,
wise in council, of noble stature, of singular whiteness and beauty,
bold, agile and mighty in battle, has recently been converted to the
Catholic faith, which it practices pure and free from the defilement of
any heresy; the said illustrious nation has prepared and dictated the
Salic Law through the medium of the oldest members who then governed the
nation. The _gast_ of Wiso, the _gast_ of Bodo, the _gast_ of Salo, the
_gast_ of Wido, who inhabit the places called Salo-Heim, Bodo-Heim,
Wiso-Heim and Wido-Heim met during three _mahls_, carefully discussed
and adopted this law.
"'Long live he who loves the Franks! May Christ uphold their empire! May
Heaven enlighten their chiefs and fill them with grace! May He protect
the army, may He fortify the faith, may He grant peace and happiness to
those who govern them under the auspices of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Amen.'"
"Clerk, we have had words enough!" put in the count. "The accused shall
be put to the trial of the cold water--let his right hand be bound to
his left foot, and let him be thrown into the tank head foremost. If he
floats the judgment of God condemns him; he will then be pronounced
guilty and shall to-morrow suffer punishment. If he sinks to the bottom,
the judgment of God will have absolved him."
At a sign of Neroweg several of his men seized the Gallic slave, and
despite the resistance that he offered and his supplications, they tied
his right hand to his left foot.
"Alas," moaned the wretched man, "what a terrible law that law is, good
father! What a fate is mine! If I remain at the bottom of the tank I
shall drown, however innocent I may be! And if I float, I shall be
sentenced and executed as a thief!"
"The judgment of the Eternal, my dear son, can never go wrong."
Already the Franks were raising the slave in their arms and were about
to cast him into the tank when the clerk cried out:
"And the consecration of the water!"
And stepping towards the slave who moaned aloud, the clerk placed upon
the Gaul's lips a silver cross that he carried around his neck and said:
"Kiss this cross, my dear son."
The young slave devoutly kissed the symbol of the death of the Friend of
the sorrowful, while the clerk pronounced aloud the formula adopted by
the Church:
"Oh, thou who art about to undergo the trial of cold water, I adjure
thee, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the name of the Father,
the Son and the Holy Ghost, in the name of the indivisible Trinity, in
the name of all the angels, archangels, principalities, powers and
dominions, virtues, thrones, cherubim and seraphim, if thou art guilty,
that this water may reject thee, without any sorcery preventing it from
so doing; and Thou Lord Jesus Christ, give us such a sign of Thy majesty
that if this man has committed the crime, he be rejected by this water
to the praise and the glory of Thy holy name, and to the end that all
may recognize that Thou art God. And you, water! Water created by the
omnipotent Father for the needs of man, I adjure you, in the name of the
indivisible Trinity which allowed the people of Israel to cross the Red
Sea, dry-footed, I adjure you, water, to refuse to accept this body if
he has eased his shoulders of the burden of good works. I so order you,
water, confident in the virtue of God alone in whose name I demand
obedience from you. Amen."
The consecration being finished by the clerk, the Franks raised over
their heads the Gallic slave who screamed and struggled to free himself,
and hurled him violently into the center of the tank amidst the loud
guffaw of the count and the witnessing Franks.
"Never yet did otter, leaping from a willow tree after a carp, make so
beautiful a plunge," exclaimed the good seigneur count holding his
sides; he was laughing so heartily. The witnessing Franks also laughed
and roared, and crowded around the tank saying to one another:
"He will float--the scamp!"
"He will not float--he is not guilty!"
"How he beats the water!"
"And that gurgling sound--glou--glou--glou!"
"Sounds like a bottle that is emptying itself--"
"There he comes to the surface!"
"No, he sinks again!"
Presently the slave rose and succeeded in keeping himself for a moment
on the surface. His face was livid and distorted, his hair streaming,
his eyes rolling back like the eyes of a man who has escaped drowning by
some desperate effort. He beat the water with the only arm that was free
and cried:
"Help! I drown! Help!"
In his fright the innocent fellow forgot that the life which he implored
was reserved for the cruel punishment meted out to thieves, seeing the
_judgment of God_ would have convicted him as such. The young man was
pulled half dead out of the tank; as he lay on the floor the Franks
derived increased pleasure from his contortions, and the expression of
his purplish face, on which the stamp of terror was still visible.
"My son, my son, I warned you before," said the clerk in threatening
accents. "Theft is a grave crime! And falsehood is another grave crime!
Here you lie--guilty of both! The sacred judgment of the Lord has, in
His infallible and divine truth, pronounced you guilty."
"Go to, miserable thief!" said to him one of his _conjurators_ who
feared to share the punishment of Peter. "You assured us of your
innocence, we trusted your word, and you deceived us--the judgment of
God has condemned you! Go to, infamous fellow--we shall gladly give a
hand in your execution!"
"I am innocent! I am innocent!"
"And what about the judgment of God, blasphemer!" cried Justin, the
accuser.
"Alas, I am nevertheless innocent--I did not steal the dish!"
"Hold your tongue, impious criminal! The trial that I shall now undergo
with blind faith in the justice of the Lord will furnish further proof
of your guilt!" retorted Justin.
"Good! Good, my dear son! Step aside from the miserable liar, thief and
blasphemer! Your innocence will be quickly established; your piety will
have its reward."
"Oh, I know it, good father! I long for the trial! May the holy name of
God be glorified!"
"That dog, whom the judgment of our omnipotent Lord has pronounced
guilty, shall receive condign punishment. Now let us pass to the trial
of the red-hot irons. Although the first trial has proved to us the
guilt of that slave, there is nothing as yet to prove that the other
fellow is innocent. They may be both accomplices in the theft of my
silver dish."
"Oh, my noble seigneur, I am in no fear!" cried the cook, his face
beaming with celestial confidence. "I bless the name of God for His
having reserved to me the opportunity to bear witness to my profound
faith in our holy Roman Catholic and Apostolic religion, and to triumph
a second time over the accusations of the wicked. I know, O Lord, that,
faithful to your commandments, I shall triumph with humility."
With the believer impatiently awaiting the new triumph of his innocence,
the clerk proceeded, agreeable to the usage, to consecrate and adjure
the red-hot irons in the brasier, just as he had conjured the water in
the tank. He ordered the red-hot irons with the same solemn invocations
that they respect the soles of the slave's feet if he was innocent, and
to burn him to the bone if he was guilty of having robbed his seigneur.
The conjuration being done, the stable blacksmiths drew forth from the
stove, with the aid of long tongs, the nine red-hot plow-shares that
they held in readiness, and laid them down in a row flat upon the stone
floor at a distance of two or three inches from one another. Ranged in
that order, they presented a strange aspect--an enormous red-hot
gridiron.
"Quick!" said the count. "The irons must not be allowed to cool off."
"What a jig will not the cub dance on that row of burning irons, if he
was in the plot with the other thief to steal your dish!"
"And yet what a wondrous miracle is about to be accomplished if the cook
is really innocent!" remarked another leude with impatient curiosity.
"To walk over red-hot plow-shares without burning one's feet! It takes
the God of the Christians to accomplish such a miracle!"
Such was the curiosity of the Franks that their cruel wish to see the
slave dance upon the red-hot irons struggled strongly against the wish
to witness a wonderful miracle. Hardly was the last plow-share ranged in
its place upon the floor than Neroweg, fearing to have them cool off,
called out impatiently to Justin:
"Quick! Quick! Walk over them!"
"Go, my dear son; fear naught!" added the clerk.
"Oh, I am not afraid, good father," answered the cook in a voice of
inspired exaltation; and crossing his arms over his breast, he cried out
fervently: "Lord God, Thou readest in the hearts of men; Thou hast
already borne witness to my innocence--give in favor of Thy servant a
new proof of Thy infallible justice--order the burning irons to be as
soft under my feet as if I trod upon a carpet of moss and flowers!"
And, his face beaming with serenity, and his eyes raised heavenward, the
Gallic slave moved with firm steps towards the gridiron of red-hot
plow-shares. During the short interval that elapsed before the accused
exposed himself to the _judgment of God_, the count, his clerk and all
the witnessing Franks seemed impressed by the slave's imperturbable
confidence; they looked at one another; and Neroweg said in a low voice
to the leudes that sat beside him:
"The cook must be truly innocent of the theft."
"Proceed! March on, my son in God!" cried the clerk at the moment when
Justin was raising his foot over the first plow-share. "The justice of
the Eternal is infallible. You said it--it is over a carpet of moss and
flowers that your feet are to walk."
But our fervent Catholic had barely touched the red-hot iron with his
feet when he emitted a frightful shriek. So intensely unbearable was the
pain that he tripped and fell down forward on his knees and hands. As he
thus tumbled over the red-hot plow-shares he gave himself fresh and deep
burns all over his body, until, driven crazy, he made a desperate bound
clean over the implements of his torture, and, roaring with pain, rolled
down over the floor ten paces away, near where his companion Peter lay,
tied hand and foot.
"Glory to the judgment of the Lord!" cried the leudes in chorus, struck
with admiration. "Glory to Christ!"
"Did I not tell you so?" remarked the count complacently. "The two
thieves were both in the plot to steal my silver dish. The ears of both
shall be cropped to-morrow, and they shall be both put on the rack until
they reveal the place where they hid the dish--"
"Hold your tongue, count!" cried Justin roaring with pain and rage. "The
only thieves and plunderers around are yourself and your men. Had I
stolen the dish, I would only have robbed a thief--but I did not take
it--as truly as I here renounce the infamous religion that wrongly finds
me guilty!"
"Wretch! Blasphemer of our holy religion! I order in the name of God--"
"Hold your tongue, too, priest--you shall no longer dupe me. Your
alleged religion is but a lie and a fraud; it bears false witness
against the innocent. Oh, how I suffer--how I suffer!"
"Your sufferings are but foretastes of the tortures that you will
undergo in hell, where you will burn everlastingly, you sacrilegious
thief! Oh, seigneur count, if this impious and audacious wretch
continues to blaspheme, we shall not be able to conjure away the
misfortunes that he will draw upon your house."
Terrified at the sacrilegious utterances of the Gallic slave; pale,
trembling and shuddering at the thought that, attracted by the dreadful
blasphemies of the condemned man, the devil might suddenly appear in
person, take possession of the malefactor and carry him straight to
hell, Neroweg thundered to the blacksmith at the stove:
"Are the tongs still in the brasier and red-hot?"
"Yes, seigneur, to command."
"The accursed fellow shall no longer blaspheme and place my burg in
danger of being visited by the devil. Let the sacrilegious criminal be
seized, and his tongue be burned out with the red-hot tongs. Tell me,
clerk, do you believe the Lord will be pacified if I inflict that
punishment upon the slave?"
"I believe, seigneur count, that there is no punishment too terrible for
this accursed man who has renounced his religion, and called its holy
priests impostors."
"Clerk, shall I have him quartered in order to be all the surer that the
devils will be conjured away from my burg?"
"The first punishment that you mentioned will suffice--the accursed man
will have been punished in the member that sinned--his criminal and
blasphemous tongue; it will thereafter utter no more blasphemies."
The tongue of the Gallic slave was burned and pulled out with red-hot
tongs. The count went back to the banquet hall with his leudes, and
there proceeded to drink himself drunk before retiring to his wife in
the women's apartment.