The Abbatial Crosier; or, Bonaik and Septimine. A Tale of a Medieval Abbess

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER I.

  ELOI THE GOLDSMITH.

  A gold and silversmith's shop is a sight agreeable to the eye of theartisan who, freeman or slave, has grown old at the beautiful art madeillustrious by Eloi, the most celebrated of all Gallic goldsmiths. Theeye rests with pleasure upon the burning furnace, upon the cruciblewhere the metal boils, upon the anvil that seems to be of silver veinedwith gold--so much gold and silver has been beaten on it. Thework-bench, equipped with its files, its hammers, its chip-axes, itsburins, its bloodstone and agate polishing stones is no less pleasing tothe eye. Then there are also the earthen molds into which the metal ispoured, and here and there upon little tables some models taken from thedebris of antique art that have been found among the ruins of RomanGaul. There is nothing from the grinding of the files to the pantingbreath of the bellows, that is not like sweet music to the ear of theartisan grown old at the trade. Such is the passion of this art that theslave at times forgets his bondage, and has no thought but for themarvels that he fashions for his master.

  Like other rich convents of Gaul, the abbey of Meriadek had its littlegold and silver shop. An old man, almost ninety-six years of age, wasoverseeing the work of four young apprentices, slaves like himself, allbusy in a vaulted ground floor room, lighted by an arched window, thatwas furnished with iron bars and that opened upon a moat full of water,the convent having been built upon a sort of peninsula almost whollysurrounded by deep ponds. The forge was placed against one of the walls,into the thick body of which a kind of vault was dug that led below byseveral steps. It contained the supply of charcoal required for thework. The old goldsmith, whose face and hands were blackened by thesmoke of the forge, wore a smock-frock half hidden by a large leathernapron, and was engaged in chiseling with great professional delight alittle silver abbatial crosier that he held on his knees.

  "Father Bonaik," said one of the young slaves to the old man, "this isthe eighth day that our comrade Eleuthere has not come at all to theworkshop ... where can he be?"

  "God knows, my boys ... but let us talk of something else."

  "I am half of your opinion, old father; on the matter of Eleuthere Ihave as strong a desire to speak as to hold my tongue. I have discovereda secret. It burns my tongue. And I fear it will be cut off if I talk."

  "Come, my lad," replied the old man, chiseling away at his work, "keepyour secret. That's the most prudent thing you can do."

  But more inquisitive than the old man, the other young apprenticesinsisted so much with their comrade that, overcome by theirimportunities, he told them: "Day before yesterday--it was the sixth daysince the disappearance of Eleuthere--I took, by order of Father Bonaik,a silver bowl to the abbey. The attendant at the turning-box told me towait while she went inside to inquire whether there were any articles ofsilver that needed mending. Left alone during her absence, I had thecuriosity to step upon a stool so as to look out of a high window thatopened upon the garden of the monastery. And what did I see? Or, rather,what is it that I thought I saw? Because there are resemblances that areso striking ... so extraordinary--"

  "Well, what did you see in the garden?"

  "I saw the abbess, distinguished by her high stature, walking betweentwo young nuns with an arm resting upon the shoulder of each."

  "You talk as though our abbess were almost a hundred years old, likeFather Bonaik--she who rides like a warrior, who hunts with falcons, andwhose upper lip is shaded by a slight reddish moustache neither more norless than that of a youth of eighteen!"

  "It surely was not out of feebleness but tenderness that the abbessleaned upon the two nuns. One of them having stepped upon her robe, losther balance, tripped and turned her head ... and I recognized, orbelieved I recognized ... guess whom ... Eleuthere!"

  "Dressed like a nun?"

  "Dressed like a nun."

  "Go away!... You must have been dreaming."

  "And yet," replied another and less incredulous slave, "that is quitepossible. Our comrade is not yet eighteen, and his chin is as innocentof a beard as any young girl's."

  "I maintain that if that nun is not Eleuthere, she is his sister ... ifhe has one."

  "I tell you," put in the old goldsmith with marked impatience, "I tellyou that you are ninnies, and that if you are anxious for a trip to thewhipping-post and to renew your acquaintance with the thongs of thewhip, all you have to do is to persevere in talks like that."

  "But Father Bonaik--"

  "I allow chattering at work; but when the words may translate themselvesinto the strokes of a whip on your backs, then the subject seems to mebadly chosen. You know, as well as I, that the abbess--"

  "Is hot-tempered and bedeviled, Father Bonaik."

  "Are you anxious to have the flesh flayed off your backs, unhappy lads!I order you to hold your tongues."

  "And what are we to talk about if not of our masters and the abbess?"

  "Here," said the old man anxious to have the subject drop, "I have oftenpromised you to tell you the story of the illustrious master of ourtrade, the glory of the artisans of Gaul. Let us talk of that artist."

  "About the good Eloi? The great and saintly Eloi, Father Bonaik, thefriend of the good King Dagobert?"

  "Call him the 'good' Eloi, my boys; never was there a better; but do notsay the 'good' King Dagobert. That King had everybody who displeased himthrottled; he pillaged, he levied ransom upon the poor, and he kept aharem like an Arabian Caliph. Listen, children. The good Eloi was bornin 588 or thereabouts, at Catalacte, a small village in the neighborhoodof Limoges. His parents were freemen, but of obscure and poorcondition."

  "Father Bonaik, if Eloi was born in 588, that must have been about ahundred and fifty years ago. That is a century and a half."

  "Yes, my boys, seeing we are now almost at 738."

  "And did you know him?" asked one of the lads with an incredulous smile."Did you know the good Eloi?"

  "Certainly, I did, seeing I shall soon be ninety-six, and that he diedlast century, in 659, nearly eighty years ago."

  "You were then quite young?"

  "I was sixteen and a half years old the last time I saw him.... Hisfather was called Eucher and his mother Terragie. Noticing that his sonwas since early boyhood ever fashioning in wood some figure or smallutensil of pretty design, his father apprenticed him to a skilfulgoldsmith of Limoges, named Master Abbon, who at that epoch alsodirected the mint in the town of Limoges. After having acquired a gooddeal of skill in his art, to the point that he surpassed his master,Eloi left the neighborhood and his family, much regretted by everybody,he being beloved by all on account of his cheerful disposition, themildness of his nature and his excellent heart. He went to seek hisfortune in Paris, one of the residential towns of the Frankish kings.Eloi was recommended by his old master to a certain Bobbon, a goldsmithand treasurer of Clotaire II. Having accepted Eloi as a workman, Bobbonsoon perceived the young man's talent. One day King Clotaire ordered achair of solid gold, wrought with art and ornamented with preciousstones."

  "A chair of solid gold! Father Bonaik, what magnificence! Nothing is toocostly to these kings."

  "Alack, my boys, the gold cost the Frankish kings in Gaul only thetrouble of picking it up, and they were not slow at it. Well, then,Clotaire II had the fancy to own a gold chair. But nobody in theworkshops of the palace was able to accomplish such a task. Thetreasurer Bobbon knew the skill of Eloi and proposed to him to undertakethe work. Eloi accepted; he went to the forge and the crucible, and outof the large quantity of gold given for one chair he fashioned two. Hethen took to the palace one of the two chairs and hid the other--"

  "Ho! Ho!" said one of the young slaves laughing. "The good Eloi did asmillers do who are sharp, artful and not very scrupulous. He drew doublepay for one bag--"

  "Wait, my boys, wait before you judge our venerable master. Charmed atthe elegance and delicacy of the artisan's work, Clotaire II issuedorders on the spot to recompense him generously. Eloi thereupon showedthe second chair to Bobbon saying: 'This is what I spent the
rest ofyour gold in so as to lose nothing of the stuff. I have acted as youwould have wished.'"

  "You are right, Father Bonaik, we were too quick in judging the goodEloi."

  "That act of probity, so honorable in the poor artisan, was the startof his future fortune. Clotaire II wished to attach him to his court asa goldsmith. It was then that Eloi achieved his finest productions:vases of chiseled gold ornamented with rubies, pearls and diamonds;pieces of furniture of solid silver and admirable design and set offwith chiseled stone; reliquaries, curtain pins, Bible cases encrustedwith carbuncles.... I saw the chalice of enameled gold more than a foothigh that he made for the abbey of Chelles. It was a miracle in enameland gold."

  "It is enough to dazzle one to hear you tell of such beautiful works,Father Bonaik."

  "Oh, children, this room could not contain the masterpieces of that oneartisan, the glory of Gallic artisanship. The coins that he has struckas the minter of Clotaire II, of Dagobert and of Clovis II haveadmirable reliefs: they are gold thirds of a sou of a superb stamp. Eloisucceeded in all the branches of the goldsmith's art. He excelled, likethe goldsmiths of Limoges, in the incrustation of enamel and the settingof precious stones; he also excelled, as did the goldsmiths of Paris, instatuaries of hammered gold and silver. He chiseled jewelry asdelicately as the jewelers of Metz. The cloths of woven gold threadmanufactured under his eyes and after his designs, were not lessmagnificent than those of Lyon. My boys, what a hard worker was Eloi.Ever at his forge from earliest dawn, ever with his leathern apron onhis loins, and the file, the hammer or the burin in his hand. He oftendid not leave his workshop until a late hour in the night, and had everat his side his favorite apprentice, a Saxon named Thil. I knew thatThil. He was then an old man, and he also was a great artist. Theyshould be models for you."

  "Eloi was not a slave, and as he enjoyed the fruit of his labor he musthave become very rich, Father Bonaik?"

  "Yes, my boys, very rich. Dagobert, upon succeeding to the throne ofhis father Clotaire II, kept Eloi as his goldsmith. But the good Eloi,mindful of his hard condition as an artisan, and of the cruel fate ofthe slaves who had often been his fellow-workmen, when he became richspent all his income in ransoming slaves. He used in that way toemancipate twenty, thirty and even fifty on one day. He often went toRouen and bought whole cargoes of slaves of both sexes taken from allcountries to that town, celebrated for its market of human flesh. Amongthose unfortunate people were Romans, Gauls, English, and even Moors,but above all Saxons. If it happened that the good Eloi did not havemoney enough to purchase the slaves, he used to distribute among themall the money he had in order to relieve their misery. 'How often,'Thil, his favorite apprentice said to me, 'his purse being exhausted, Isaw my master sell his cloak, his belt and even his shoes.' But you mustknow, my boys, that that mantle, that belt, those shoes were embroideredwith gold and often enriched with pearls. The good Eloi, who ornamentedthe robes of others, also took pleasure in ornamenting his own. In hisyounger years he was magnificently dressed."

  "It was the least he could do to deck himself out well--he who deckedothers so well. It is not as with us who work on gold and silver, andnever have but rags."

  "My poor boys, we are slaves, while Eloi had the fortune of being free;but he utilized his freedom for the benefit of his fellows. He hadaround him several servants who adored him. I knew some of them, amongothers, Bauderic, Tituen, Buchin, Andre, Martin and John. So you see oldBonaik has a good memory. But how can one fail to remember anythingconnected with Eloi!"

  "Do you know, master, that it is an honor to us poor goldsmith slaves,to number such a man in our profession?"

  "A great honor, my boys! Certes, we should be proud of it. Imagine thatthe reputation of the good Eloi for charity was such that his name wasknown all over Gaul, and even in other countries. Strangers consideredit an honor to call upon the goldsmith who was at once so great anartist and so good a man. If anyone asked in Paris where he lived, thefirst passer-by would answer: 'Do you want to know where the good Eloilives? Go where you will find the largest number of poor people gatheredtogether. He lives there.'"

  "Oh, the good Eloi," said one of the lads with eyes moist with tears."Oh, the good Eloi, so well named!"

  "Yes, my friends, he was as active in charity as at his trade. In theevening, at his meal hour, he would send out his servants in differentdirections to gather people who suffered hunger, and also travelers indistress. They were taken to him and he fed them. Filling the office ofa servant when they came, he helped some to unload their packs,sprinkled warm water on the hands of others, poured out wine into theircups, broke their bread, carved their meat and distributed it--allhimself. After having thus served all with sweet pleasure, he would sitdown himself, and only then did he himself share in the meal that heoffered these poor people. That was his way of practicing charity."

  "And how did the good Eloi look, Father Bonaik? Was he tall or short?"

  "He was tall and of a florid complexion. In his younger days, hisapprentice Thil said to me, his black hair was naturally curly. Hishand, though hardened by the hammer, was white and well-shaped; therewas something angelic in his expression; yet his straightforward eyeswere full of keenness."

  "That is just the way I would picture him to myself, dressed in themagnificent robes that he used to sell in order to ransom slaves."

  "When he grew in years, the good Eloi renounced splendor altogether. Hewore only a robe of coarse wool, with a cord for belt.... When aboutforty he was appointed bishop of Noyon at his own request."

  "He? Did so great an artist aspire after a bishopric?"

  "Yes, my lads.... Grieved at the sight of so many covetous and wickedprelates, who devoured the substance of his well-beloved poor, the goodEloi applied to the King for the bishopric of Noyon, saying to himselfthat at least that bishopric would be ruled by the sweet morality ofJesus. And he put that morality into practice up to the last day of hislife, without thereby renouncing his art. He founded severalmonasteries, where he set up large gold and silversmiths' shops underthe direction of the apprentices whom he raised in the abbey of Solignacand elsewhere in Limousin. It was thither, my lads, that I was taken asa slave at sixteen after having undergone many trials. But I was born inBrittany ... in that Brittany that is still free to this day, and that Inever expect to see again, although this abbey lies not far from thecradle of my family," and the old man, who during the whole of hisnarrative had kept steadily at work at the abbatial crosier that he waschiseling, dropped on his knee the hand that held the burin. He remainedsilent and pensive for a few seconds. Then, waking up with a start, heproceeded addressing the young slaves under him, who wondered at hissilence: "My lads, I have allowed myself to be carried away despitemyself by recollections that are at once sweet and painful to mymind.... Where did I leave off?"

  "You were telling us, Father Bonaik, that you were taken as a slave atthe age of sixteen to the abbey of Solignac in Limousin."

  "Yes; well, it was there that I first saw the great artist. Once everyyear he left Noyon to visit the abbey. He had inducted his apprenticeThil abbot of the place, and the abbot directed the goldsmith'sworkshop. The good Eloi was quite old then; but he loved to come to theworkshop to oversee and direct the work. He often took the file or theburin from our hands to show us how to use it, and in such a paternalmanner did he act that all our hearts went out to him. Oh! those weregood days.... The slaves were not allowed to leave the territory of themonastery, but they felt as happy there as one can under bondage. Atevery visit that he paid the place, Eloi inquired after them toascertain whether they were kindly treated. After his death, however,everything changed."

  The old goldsmith had reached this epoch in his narrative when the doorof the workshop opened and two personages stepped in.