The Man in Black

The Man In Black
by Stanley J. Weyman
1894
Chapter I
The Fair at Fecamp
"I am Jehan de Bault, Seigneur of--I know not where, and Lord of
seventeen lordships in the County of--I forget the name, of a most noble
and puissant family, possessing the High Justice, the Middle, and the
Low. In my veins runs the blood of Roland, and of my forefathers were
three marshals of France. I stand here, the--"
It was the eve of All Saints, and the famous autumn horse-fair was in
progress at Fecamp--Fecamp on the Normandy coast, the town between
the cliffs, which Boisrose, in the year '93, snatched for the Great King
by a feat of audacity unparalleled in war. This only by the way,
however; and that a worthy deed may not die. For at the date of this fair
of which we write, the last day of October, 1637, stout Captain
Boisrose, whom Sully made for his daring Lieutenant-General of the
Ordnance, had long ceased to ruffle it; the Great King had lain in his
grave a score of years or more; and though Sully, duke and peer and
marshal, still lived, an aged, formal man, in his chateau of Villebon by
Chartres, all France, crouching under the iron hand of the Cardinal,
looked other ways.
The great snarled, biting at the hem of the red soutane. But that the
mean and Jacques Bonhomme, the merchant and the trader, flourished
under his rule, Fecamp was as good evidence this day as man could
desire. Even old burghers who remembered Charles the ninth, and the
first glass windows ever seen in Fecamp outside the Abbey, could not
say when the price of horses had been higher or the town more full. All

day, and almost all night, the clatter of hoofs and babble of bargains
filled the narrow streets; while hucksters' cries and drunkards' oaths,
with all raucous sounds, went up to heaven like the smoke from a
furnace. The Chariot d'Or and the Holy Fig, haunts of those who came
to buy, fairly hummed with guests, with nobles of the province and gay
sparks from Rouen, army contractors from the Rhine, and dealers from
the south. As for the Dame Belle and the green Man, houses that lower
down the street had food and forage for those who came to sell, they
strewed their yards a foot deep with straw, and saying to all alike,
"Voila, monsieur!" charged the full price of a bed.
Beyond the streets it was the same. Strings of horses and ponies, with
an army of grooms and chaunters, touts and cutpurses, camped on
every piece of level ground, while the steeper slopes and hill-sides
swarmed with troupes more picturesque, if less useful. For these were
the pitches of the stilt-walkers and funambulists, the morris dancers and
hobby-horses: in a word, of an innumerable company of quacks,
jugglers, poor students, and pasteboard giants, come together for the
delectation of the gaping Normans, and all under the sway and
authority of the Chevalier du Guet, in whose honor two gibbets, each
bearing a creaking corpse, rose on convenient situations overlooking
the fair. For brawlers and minor sinners a pillory and a whipping-post
stood handy by the landward gate, and from time to time, when a lusty
vagrant or a handsome wench was dragged up for punishment, outvied
in attraction all the professional shows.
Of these, one that seemed as successful as any in catching and chaining
the fancy of the shifting crowd consisted of three persons--a man, a boy,
and an ape--who had chosen for their pitch a portion of the steep
hill-side overhanging the road. High up in this they had driven home an
iron peg, and stretching a cord from this to the top of a tree which stood
on the farther edge of the highway, had improvised a tight-rope at once
simple and effective. All day, as the changing throng passed to and fro
below, the monkey and the boy might be seen twisting and turning and
posturing on this giddy eminence, while the man, fantastically dressed
in an iron cap a world too big for him, and a back-and breast-piece
which ill-matched his stained crimson jacket and taffety breeches,

stood beating a drum at the foot of the tree, or now and again stepped
forward to receive in a ladle the sous and eggs and comfits that
rewarded the show.
He was a lean, middle-sized man, with squinting eyes and a crafty
mouth. Unaided he might have made his living by cutting purses. But
he had the wit to do by others what he could not do himself, and the
luck to have that in his company which pleased all comers; for while
the clowns gazed saucer-eyed at the uncouth form