There came at this season to Chinon from Fierbois (where the Maid's sword was found by miracle)a Scottish archer,not aforetime of our company,though now he took service with us.He was named Michael Hamilton,and was a tall man and strong,grim of face,sudden in anger,heavy of hand,walked a little lame,and lacked one ear.
That which follows he himself told to us and to our chaplain,Father Urquhart,and I myself have read it in the Book of the Miracles of Madame St.Catherine of Fierbois.{22}
You must know that Brittany,as at this time,held for the English,and Michael Hamilton had gone thither reiving and pillaging the country with a company of Scots men-at-arms.Hard by a place called Clisson they had seized a deserted tower and held it for some days.
It so fell out that they took a burgess of the country,who was playing the spy on their quarters;him they put to the torture,and so learned that the English were coming against them with a great company of men-at-arms and of the country folk,on that very night.
They therefore delayed no longer than to hang the spy from a sufficient bough of a tree,this Michael doing what was needful,and so were hurrying to horse,when,lo!the English were upon them.
Not having opportunity to reach the stables and mount,Michael Hamilton fled on foot,with what speed he might,but sorely impeded by the weight of his armour.The country folk,therefore,being light of foot,easily overtook him,and after slaying one and wounding more,he was caught in a noose of rope thrown over him from behind.Now,even as he felt the noose tighten about his arms,he (though not commonly pious beyond the wont of men-at-arms)vowed in his heart to make a pilgrimage to Fierbois,and to the shrine of Madame St.Catherine,if she would but aid him.And,indeed,he was ever a worshipper of St.Catherine,she being the patroness of his own parish kirk,near Bothwell.None the less,he was overcome and bound,whereon he that had thrown the noose,and was son of the spy whom Michael had hanged,vowed that he would,with his own hands,hang Michael.No ransom would this manant take,nor would he suffer Michael,as a gentleman of blood and birth,to die by the sword.So hanged Michael was;doubt not but it was done in the best manner,and there he was left hanging.
Now,that night of Maundy Thursday the cure of Clisson was in his chamber and was about to go to bed.But as he made ready for bed he heard,from a corner of the chamber,a clear voice saying,"Go forth and cut down the Scots man-at-arms who was hanged,for he yet lives."The cure,thinking that he must be half asleep and dreaming,paid no manner of regard to these commands.Thereon the voice,twice and thrice,spoke aloud,none save the cure being present,and said,"Go forth and cut down the Scots man-at-arms who was hanged,for he yet lives."It often so chances that men in religion are more hard of heart to believe than laymen and the ******.The cure,therefore,having made all due search,and found none living who could have uttered that voice,went not forth himself,but at noon of Good Friday,his service being done,he sent his ***ton,as one used not to fear the sight and company of dead men.The ***ton set out,whistling for joy of the slaying of the Scot,but when he came back he was running as fast as he might,and scarce could speak for very fear.At the last they won from him that he had gone to the tree where the dead Scot was hanging,and first had heard a faint rustle of the boughs.
Not affrighted,the ***ton drew out a knife and slit one of Michael's bare toes,for they had stripped him before they hanged him.At the touch of the knife the blood came,and the foot gave a kick,whereon the ***ton hastened back with these tidings to the cure.The holy man,therefore,sending for such clergy as he could muster,went at their head,in all his robes canonical,to the wild wood,where they cut Michael down and rubbed his body and poured wine into his throat,so that,at the end of half an hour,he sat up and said,"Pay Waiter Hay the two testers that I owe him."Thereon most ran and hid themselves,as if from a spirit of the dead,but the manant,he whose father Michael had hanged,made at him with a sword,and dealt him a great blow,cutting off his ear.
But others who had not fled,and chiefly the cure,held the manant till his hands were bound,that he might not slay one so favoured of Madame St.Catherine.Not that they knew of Michael's vow,but it was plain to the cure that the man was under the protection of Heaven.Michael then,being kindly nursed in a house of a certain Abbess,was wellnigh recovered,and his vow wholly forgotten,when lo!he being alone,one invisible smote his cheek,so that the room rang with the buffet,and a voice said to him,"Wilt thou never remember thy pilgrimage?"Moved,therefore,to repentance,he stole the cure's horse,and so,journeying by night till he reached France,he accomplished his vows,and was now returned to Chinon.
This Michael Hamilton was hanged,not very long afterwards,by command of the Duc d'Alencon,for plundering a church at Jargeau.
The story I have thought it behoved me to tell in this place,because it shows how good and mild is Madame St.Catherine of Fierbois,also lest memory of it be lost in Scotland,where it cannot but be of great comfort to all gentlemen of Michael's kin and of the name and house of Hamilton.Again,I tell it because I heard it at this very season of my waiting to be recovered of my wound.
Moreover,it is a tale of much edification to men-at-arms,as proving how ready are the saints to befriend us,even by speaking as it were with human voices to sinful men.Of this I myself,later,had good proof,as shall be told,wherefore I praise and thank the glorious virgin,Madame St.Catherine of Fierbois.