The Equerry

For the sake of argument, and for the good of my own soul, I record here my transgressions with the departed Chevalier de Balibari, a mere knave by comparison to Yours Truly. For the convenience of whomever is to file this document, I shall record that it is currently the 8th of January, of the year 1764. In writing this document, my ambition is to consolidate all of the so-called ‘facts’ which have been levied against me in an attempt to accuse me of the murder of the Chevalier, and explain how each of them has been distorted to achieve this end. As I await the policeman’s coach, and no doubt an unearned beating, as the lawmen are accustomed to giving in this section of the city, it is my intention to finish my document, and present it to the court. I am confident then, that all minds who read and comprehend it will be convinced of my innocence.

Now, I shall begin with my resignation: One fortnight prior to the incident which left the Chevalier lifeless, I, Jean de la Flye, had written a letter to his honor, wherein, I described the conditions under which I had decided to leave his service. I will not reauthor here the entire letter, but I shall summarize: I took issue, firstly, with the compensation I had received. While it had been enough to feed myself and the lord’s horses, and while quarters were supplied for us servants in the gentleman’s house, I had no means of purchasing a horse of my own, nor supplies for painting, nor any other things which a hobby may demand. Furthermore, I had not been allotted any time for personal recreation. While Lords and Ladies took rides along the Rhine, I toiled. While the ‘important’ ones laughed and sang in velvet seats, I was left to make my hands stink of feed, and my boots of horse excrement. Four years of this work I did, to no pay rise and no thanks, and so I wrote my letter. And in it, and for the reasons I have just given, I demanded funds with which to transport myself to a neighboring city, so that I may find a new occupation there. These funds were to be sufficient for a horse, sustenance for the journey, and tavern fare upon my arrival. It was the least I was owed after my quadrennium of mistreatment, a fact which I am certain you agree with. The Chevalier laughed at my proposal, and sent me away penniless, to wallow in the sty among hogs.

Now, it has been said that one week later, Yours Truly was spotted “skulking” outside of the Chevalier’s manor. While the fact of the statement is true— I was indeed strolling about the premises that night— I quarrel with the wording of it. What some may appoint as “skulking”, others would just as easily call a “jaunt”. I certainly would call it that, and where else would a gentleman who had recently been ousted from employment take his jaunt? Would you have me take it away from my old workplace? I know not the other parts of the city. I know not whether they are safe; and while some have pointed to the fact that it was midnight when I was spotted— and they seem to think this fact suspicious— I say to these “some” that they are being presumptuous. They, who have never understood what it is to be jobless, to have no reason for keeping the orthodox schedule of waking in the day and sleeping at night, cannot understand the concept of a nocturnal night’s walk, and should therefore be exempt from commenting on it. I was up to no suspicious act that night, as the witnesses capriciously report. I was simply enjoying my newfound time for leisure, as any man would.

Moving ahead to the night prior, when his honor’s horses were released from his stable. I have been unanimously accused of the defiant act of releasing them. Even more, they attribute motive! They say I had done it so that the Chevalier would not be allowed a quick escape from his home, with no evidence to support this claim! True, I had not returned my key to his honor’s stables upon my exit from employment. However, I was never asked what my reason was for not returning it. If I had been asked this, all would have been made clear, and I would have been absolved from such accusations. That reason does not matter now, however. What does matter is the credibility of the accuser who supposedly saw me release the horses that night. I happen to remember him, for he was indeed my fellow equerry just a week before. He was a stupid man! Not only this, but he had confided in me one night, telling me that he had slept with an unchaste woman, and contracted syphilis! Now, how can the word of a syphilitic imbecile such as he, be trusted above the word of an intelligent man such as I? Give the imbecile a quill and parchment, and let us see if he can spell out his accusation! Or, better still, spell it for him, and let us see if he can but read it aloud without trouble. My point in insulting this fellow is not to be cruel, but simply to illustrate that his word cannot be trusted in a matter as serious as the law.

Now— I believe I have cleared that up for us— we may now move on to the events of the night in question. Allow me to lay out only the facts that are known of the night, with none of the presumptions that were made in my ignominy. First, there was the gunshot heard in the bedroom of the Chevalier. Second, there was the spotting of Yours Truly on the front lawn. Notice! I did not say I was sighted within the manor! People have said that I was. This has been reported as fact, though none can provide proof of it, for it is not true! Thirdly, it is reported that my shirt had been bloodied when I was spotted on the lawn. This is true, though there is no evidence to support that it was the blood of the Chevalier. There is also no evidence for the later claim, that I had been seen tossing the murder weapon into a haystack on my way out. It is true that I tossed a flintlock pistol bearing my initials into the haystack. However, there is no evidence to support that this weapon was used to kill anyone. Also, is it not likely that I had cast away the weapon to avoid being framed for such an act? Lastly, when I was found and detained outside of the city walls, astride one of his honor’s own horses, the officer who had detained me dove headfirst to the conclusion that I was making some daring ‘escape’ from the scene of the murder. I cry “false” at this baseless, incriminating claim! Could it not be possible that in my distress, a moment of magnanimity came over me, and I had made an attempt to retrieve the Chevalier’s horses for him, free of charge? Oh, but my accusers did not think of this, for they lack the sense of morality which I possess. In fact, I question the morality of any who believes these claims against me still, after reading my point of view.

As for my alibi for the night in question, I will explain it henceforth, in detail:

In the hours before said events, my hunger from living on the street— a hunger which, you will remember, had been imposed by the Chevalier— had driven me to my wits end. In this hunger, I sought from the closed street markets and farmer’s homes, a loose chicken. Fortune found itself in my favor that night, for I soon heard the clucking of a lovely cockerel ‘round a corner, and I slew her. And I cooked her as well, but pity me, for I had not been accustomed to the slaying and cooking of chickens, and I fear I undercooked her, and perhaps allowed a few bits of lead to remain in her thigh meat. I fear this, because when I consumed her I became ill. In my illness, I had come down with severe aching of the stomach, as well as great bodily chills.

Feeling trounced by the foul fowl, and not being quite in the right mind, I retreated to the only place I could think of to rid my belly of the poison. As you can probably surmise at this point, that place I sought was his honor’s toilet. The front door was open as I approached, and I made it quickly through to his water closet, where I banished the sickly bird from my stomach. During this time, I heard the firing of the aforementioned weapon from upstairs. You see? I could not have been the one to fire on him, for I was downstairs, and in poor condition. Anyway, upon hearing the weapon fire, I fled for my own life. I did not wish to become a victim myself! And when I exited the front door, and I met the eyes of the alerted servants outside on the lawn, I realized that I held still in my hand, the weapon I had used to slay the chicken. What bull luck, I thought, and I cast it into the hay to remove any suspicion from myself, but this only served to incriminate me more! As well, I still wore the blood of the chicken upon my shirt, and it certainly seemed indistinguishable from the blood of a human man! After this, I fled still, for I knew not what danger still remained behind me. I knew not if the Chevalier had been killed. I knew naught at all. It was not until much later, into the morning, when I came across one of his honor’s favorite horses, which I ventured to retrieve, and would have brought back to his estate, had I not been detained by some officer purporting to know what events had transpired the night before.

I have said all that will be required. I trust now that you are convinced of my innocence, and bid you share this document with whichever powers that be, so that I may be released from my imprisonment. I can hear the hooves of the coachman’s horses approaching outside the barn as I write. The officer is standing near, and he will not allow me to leave his sight, even for a moment. I will keep this document on my person, in the hopes that someone of importance finds it and releases me. My conditions of release are modest. All I ask from you is enough funds for a horse with which to transport myself to a neighboring city, sustenance for the journey, and tavern fare for my arrival. The rest, I will figure out once I am there.

Yours in justice,

Jean de la Flye.