Between Nyort and Fors there is a village called Grip, (2) which belongs to the Lord of Fors.
1 This story is evidently founded upon fact; the incidents
must have occurred prior to 1530.—L.
2 Gript, a little village on the Courance, eight miles
south of Niort (Deux-Sèvres), produces some of the best
white wine in this part of France. Its church of St. Aubin
stood partly in the diocese of Poitiers, partly in that of
Saintes, the altar being in the former, and the door in the
latter one. This is the only known instance of the kind in
France. Fors, a few miles distant from Gript, was a fief
which Catherine, daughter of Artus de Vivonne, brought in
marriage to James Poussart, knight, who witnessed the Queen
of Navarre’s marriage contract, signing himself, “Seigneur
de Fors, Bailly du Berry.” He is often mentioned in the
Queen’s letters.—See Génin’s Lettres de Marguerite, &c,
pp. 243-244, 258-259, 332.—L. and M.
It happened one day that two Grey Friars, on their way from Nyort, arrived very late at this place, Grip, and lodged in the house of a butcher. Now, as there was nothing between their host’s room and their own but a badly joined partition of wood, they had a mind to listen to what the husband might say to his wife when he was in bed with her, and accordingly they set their ears close to the head of their host’s bed. He, having no thought of his lodgers, spoke privately with his wife concerning their household, and said to her—
“I must rise betimes in the morning, sweetheart, and see after our Grey Friars. One of them is very fat, and must be killed; we will salt him forthwith and make a good profit off him.”
And although by “Grey Friars” he meant his pigs, the two poor brethren, on hearing this plot, felt sure that they themselves were spoken of, (3) and so waited with great fear and trembling for the dawn.
3 The butcher doubtless called his pigs “Grey Friars” in
allusion to the latter’s gluttony and uncleanly habits. Pigs
are even nowadays termed moines (monks) by the peasantry
in some parts of France. Moreover, the French often render
our expression “fat as a pig” by “fat as a monk.”—Ed.
One of them was very fat and the other rather lean. The fat one wished to confess himself to his companion, saying that a butcher who had lost the love and fear of God would think no more of slaughtering him than if he were an ox or any other beast; and adding that as they were shut up in their room and could not leave it without passing through that of their host, they must needs look upon themselves as dead men, and commend their souls to God. But the younger Friar, who was not so overcome with fear as his comrade, made answer that, as the door was closed against them, they must e’en try to get through the window, for, whatever befel them, they could meet with nothing worse than death; to which the fat Friar agreed.
The young one then opened the window, and, finding that it was not very high above the ground, leaped lightly down and fled as fast and as far as he could, without waiting for his companion. The latter attempted the same hazardous jump, but in place of leaping, fell so heavily by reason of his weight, that one of his legs was sorely hurt, and he could not rise from the ground.
Finding himself forsaken by his companion and being unable to follow him, he looked around him to see where he might hide, and could espy nothing save a pigsty, to which he dragged himself as well as he could. And as he opened the door to hide himself within, out rushed two huge pigs, whose place the unhappy Friar took, closing the little door upon himself, and hoping that, when he heard the sound of passers-by, he would be able to call out and obtain assistance.
As soon as the morning was come, however, the butcher got ready his big knives, and bade his wife bear him company whilst he went to slaughter his fat pig. And when he reached the sty in which the Grey Friar lay concealed, he opened the little door and began to call at the top of his voice—