A Grey Friar to whom a maiden had presented herself on
Christmas night that he might confess her, laid upon her so
strange a penance that she would not submit to it, but rose
from before him without having received absolution; but her
mistress, hearing of the matter, caused the Grey Friar to be
flogged in her kitchen, and then sent him back, bound and
gagged, to his Warden.
In the year when my Lady Margaret of Austria came to Cambray on behalf
of her nephew the Emperor, to treat of peace between him and the Most
Christian King, who on his part was represented by his mother, my
Lady Louise of Savoy, (1) the said Lady Margaret had in her train the
Countess of Aiguemont, (2) who won, among this company, the renown of
being the most beautiful of all the Flemish ladies.
1 It was in June 1529 that Margaret of Austria came to
Cambrai to treat for peace, on behalf of Charles V. Louise
of Savoy, who represented Francis I., was accompanied on
this occasion by her daughter, Queen Margaret, who appears
to have taken part in the conferences. The result of these
was that the Emperor renounced his claims on Burgundy, but
upheld all the other stipulations of the treaty of Madrid.
Having been brought about entirely by feminine negotiators,
the peace of Cambrai acquired the name of "La Paix des
Dames," or "the Ladies' Peace." Some curious particulars of
the ceremonies observed at Cambrai on this occasion will be
found in Leglay's Notice sur les fêles et cérémonies à
Cambray depuis le XIe siècle, Cambrai, 1827.—L. and B. J.
2 This is Frances of Luxemburg, Baroness of Fiennes and
Princess of Gavre, wife of John IV., Count of Egmont,
chamberlain to the Emperor Charles V. They were the parents
of the famous Lamoral Count of Egmont, Prince of Gavre and
Baron of Fiennes, born in 1522 and put to death by the Duke
of Alba on June 5, 1568.—B.J.
When this great assembly separated, the Countess of Aiguemont returned
to her own house, and, Advent being come, sent to a monastery of Grey
Friars to ask for a clever preacher and virtuous man, as well to preach
as to confess herself and her whole household. The Warden, remembering
the great benefits that the Order received from the house of Aiguemont
and that of Fiennes, to which the Countess belonged, sought out the man
whom he thought most worthy to fill the said office.
Accordingly, as the Grey Friars more than any other order desire to
obtain the esteem and friendship of great houses, they sent the most
important preacher of their monastery, and throughout Advent he did his
duty very well, and the Countess was well pleased with him.
On Christmas night, when the Countess desired to receive her Creator,
she sent for her confessor, and after making confession in a carefully
closed chapel, she gave place to her lady of honour, who in her turn,
after being shriven, sent her daughter to pass through the hands of this
worthy confessor. When the maiden had told all that was in her mind, the
good father knew something of her secrets, and this gave him the desire
and the boldness to lay an unwonted penance upon her.
"My daughter," said he, "your sins are so great that to atone for them I
command you the penance of wearing my cord upon your naked flesh."
The maiden, who was unwilling to disobey him, made answer—
"Give it to me, father, and I will not fail to wear it."
"My daughter," said the good father, "it will be of no avail from your
own hand. Mine, from which you shall receive absolution, must first bind
it upon you; then shall you be absolved of all your sins."
The maiden replied, weeping, that she would not suffer it.
"What?" said the confessor. "Are you a heretic, that you refuse the
penances which God and our holy mother Church have ordained?"
"I employ confession," said the maiden, "as the Church commands, and I
am very willing to receive absolution and do penance. But I will not be
touched by your hands, and I refuse this mode of penance."
"Then," said the confessor, "I cannot give you absolution."
The maiden rose from before him greatly troubled in conscience, for,
being very young, she feared lest she had done wrong in thus refusing to
obey the worthy father.
When mass was over and the Countess of Aiguemont had received the
"Corpus Domini," her lady of honour, desiring to follow her, asked her
daughter whether she was ready. The maiden, weeping, replied that she
was not shriven.
"Then what were you doing so long with the preacher?" asked her mother.
"Nothing," said the maiden, "for, as I refused the penance that he laid
upon me, he on his part refused me absolution."
Making prudent inquiry, the mother learnt the extraordinary penance that
the good father had chosen for her daughter; and then, having caused her
to be confessed by another, they received the sacrament together. When
the Countess was come back from the church, the lady of honour made
complaint to her of the preacher, whereupon the Countess was the
more surprised and grieved, since she had thought so well of him.
Nevertheless, despite her anger, she could not but feel very much
inclined to laugh at the unwonted nature of the penance.
Still her laughter did not prevent her from having the friar taken and
beaten in her kitchen, where he was brought by the strokes of the rod
to confess the truth; and then she sent him bound hand and foot to his
Warden, begging the latter for the future to commission more virtuous
men to preach the Word of God.
"Consider, ladies, if the monks be not afraid to display their
wantonness in so illustrious a house, what may they not do in the
poor places where they commonly make their collections, and where
opportunities are so readily offered to them, that it is a miracle if
they are quit of them without scandal. And this, ladies, leads me to beg
of you to change your ill opinion into compassion, remembering that
he (3) who blinds the Grey Friars is not sparing of the ladies when he
finds an opportunity."
3 The demon.—B. J.
"Truly," said Oisille, "this was a very wicked Grey Friar. A monk, a
priest and a preacher to work such wickedness, and that on Christmas
day, in the church and under the cloak of the confessional—all these
are circumstances which heighten the sin."
"It would seem from your words," said Hircan, "that the Grey Friars
ought to be angels, or more discreet than other men, but you have heard
instances enough to show you that they are far worse. As for the monk
in the story, I think he might well be excused, seeing that he found
himself shut up all alone at night with a handsome girl."
"True," said Oisille, "but it was Christmas night."
"That makes him still less to blame," said Simontault, "for, being in
Joseph's place beside a fair virgin, he wished to try to beget an infant
and so play the Mystery of the Nativity to the life."
"In sooth," said Parlamente, "if he had thought of Joseph and the Virgin
Mary, he would have had no such evil purpose. At all events, he was
a wickedly-minded man to make so evil an attempt upon such slight
provocation."
"I think," said Oisille, "that the Countess punished him well enough to
afford an excellent example to his fellows."
"But 'tis questionable," said Nomerfide, "whether she did well in thus
putting her neighbour to shame, or whether 'twould not have been better
to have quietly shown him his faults, rather than have made them so
publicly known."
"That would, I think, have been better," said Geburon, "for we are
commanded to rebuke our neighbour in secret, before we speak of the
matter to any one else or to the Church. When a man has been brought to
public disgrace, he will hardly ever be able to mend his ways, but fear
of shame withdraws as many persons from sin as conscience does."
"I think," said Parlamente, "that we ought to observe the teaching of
the Gospel towards all except those that preach the Word of God and act
contrary to it. We should not be afraid to shame such as are accustomed
to put others to shame; indeed I think it a very meritorious thing to
make them known for what they really are, so that we take not a mock
stone (4) for a fine ruby. But to whom will Saffredent give his vote?"
4 The French word here is doublet. The doublet was a
piece of crystal, cut after the fashion of a diamond, and
backed with red wax so as to give it somewhat the colour of
a ruby.—B. J.
"Since you ask me," he replied, "I will give it to yourself, to whom no
man of understanding should refuse it."
"Then, since you give it to me, I will tell you a story to the truth of
which I can myself testify. I have always heard that when virtue abides
in a weak and feeble vessel, and is assailed by its strong and puissant
opposite, it especially deserves praise, and shows itself to be what
it really is. If strength withstand strength, it is no very wonderful
thing; but if weakness win the victory, it is lauded by every one.
Knowing, as I do, the persons of whom I desire to speak, I think that
I should do a wrong to virtue, (which I have often seen hidden under so
mean a covering that none gave it any heed), if I did not tell of her
who performed the praiseworthy actions that I now feel constrained to
relate."
