On October 25, 1684, Pagès, the scribe of Saint-Ambroix, was woken early by an unexpected knock. Jacques Debrun, the town’s bailiff, had sent for him to come immediately to the Red Hat inn. Why was Debrun waiting for him there so early on a Wednesday? Something was amiss and Pagès couldn't shake the feeling of dread that settled in his stomach.
In a hurry, he gathered his quills, ink, and paper, and set out for the inn, his mind racing. Why the Red Hat and not the townhouse as usual? The innkeeper, André Chazalettes, was a well-known figure in the Protestant community, renowned for the firm discipline with which he managed his household. While devout and stern to a fault, he wasn't one for scandal or sectarian behavior - he did business with Catholics, even employed some of them. It seemed unlikely to be about André himself. Perhaps something had happened with a guest?
Lost in thought, Pagès found himself at the Red Hat's door, the inn's namesake sign swinging gently above. He entered, the bell's chime echoing through an eerily silent and deserted first floor. As he stood clutching his writing materials, uncertain what to do, rapid footsteps descended the stairs. Debrun's valet appeared, urgently directing him upstairs. They hurried past the guest rooms on the second floor, heading for the owners' quarters above. Pagès' apprehension grew as he wondered if André Chazalettes might be in trouble after all. The valet gestured him into one of the rooms, the tension palpable in the air.
Pagès entered and stopped in his tracks. The scene that greeted him was far from what he had imagined. In the room, Debrun sat between two beds, each occupied by a teenage girl in visible distress. Françoise Chazalettes, the innkeeper's daughter, and Françoise Pagèze, her Catholic maid, lay pale and trembling, taking turns retching into a bucket. Debrun wasted no time, instructing Pagès to record the girls' testimonies.
Debrun, with a stern yet compassionate demeanor, began questioning Françoise Chazalettes. At just thirteen and despite her weakened state, she Françoise recounted in detail the events that had led to this morning's crisis. She explained that she had recently acquired a cloth ribbon to make a headband. This seemingly trivial purchase had provoked an intense reaction from her father. Françoise described how André had been enraged upon discovering the ribbon. As a strict and devout Calvinist, he viewed it as a symbol of vanity and frivolity, which he believed was contrary to their religious values. His anger and threats had left Françoise feeling desperate and despondent.
Desperate to the point that she took drastic action. She recounted how she had obtained poison from the local apothecary. Françoise retold how she had dissolved the poison in water and split it with her friend and servant, Françoise Pagèze, who shared her despair - and the deadly drink.
Debrun signaled for Pagès to now turn to the young servant. Françoise Pagèze was only fifteen, barely older than her mistress. She described the events leading up to the incident, confirming Françoise Chazalettes's account, corroborating the story of the ribbon and the subsequent confrontation with André Chazalettes. Pagèze detailed how she had consumed the poison willingly, driven by despair and fear of the consequences of disobedience. Despite her Catholic upbringing, she had formed a deep bond with Françoise Chazalettes: together they had faced the wrath of André Chazalettes, and together they had shared the poison. This act was even more difficult to understand in her case, as André was not her father and she was a couple years older. And so Debrun asked plainly: how could she do something so extreme for such a futile matter? What other reason might there be? Pagèze's response was simple: friendship was her only reason.
The two friends were exhausted. As their pain increased, the atmosphere in the room grew somber. Debrun understood that time was of the essence and he ordered Pagès to get ready for a second round of questions, to confirm their initial account. He also sent for the doctor, to not only tend to the girls but also to draft a medical report for the legal proceedings. For the next two hours, Pagès' quill never stopped moving but the girls' strength waned. Debrun, his face a mask of concern and disbelief, had ordered two more rounds of testimony. They yielded little additional details that could help make sense of the tragedy. How could a dispute about a ribbon, a mere piece of cloth, could have driven two young lives to the brink?
As the doctor entered, a heavy silence fell over the room, leaving Pagès with the stark realization that hope now rested solely in the hands of providence.
To be continued.