Join us at the campfire for tales from around the world, told by storytellers of all backgrounds and creeds. From the heros and heroines of old, let us relearn and rediscover the wisdom of our ancestors. Shhh..the story begins..
Animal tricksters were the original anti-heroes of medieval folklore. Far from being virtuous and chivalrous, they were often gluttonous or self-serving or morally reprehensible...and sometimes, all three. Nevertheless, these miscreants inspired sympathy, if only for their energy and quick wits. This was never more true than of the character of Reynard the Fox, spiritual cousin of African's Ananse and America's Brer Rabbit. The persistent wrong-doings of the wily Reynard, interrupted by brief moments of repentance, brought endless fascination to the peoples of Europe throughout the Middle Ages.
Many of the Reynard stories drew upon folktales that were ages old, but it would appear that they were first written down in the Flanders-Germany border region during the 10th or 11th Century. Their popularity spread rapidly and, by the 13th Century, there were versions in many European languages. The parallels with the human world were an essential part of the tales' appeal, allowing storytellers to poke satirical fun at the feudal society around them. Much of the joy of the "Reynard Circle" for medieval audiences must have lain in the shock of recognition as they glimpsed institutions they knew dressed up in unfamiliar animal guise. But now, as they say, on with the story...
As the animals gathered in a conclave before their sovereign, one subject quickly came to dominate all their discussions, that subject being the misdeeds of Reynard the Fox who, alone of all the beasts, had deigned not to attend the meeting.
It seemed that almost everyone had a complaint to make about the wily fellow: Isegrim the Wolf, whose wife he had insulted; Wackerlos the Dog, whose sausage he had stolen; Lampe the Hare, whom he had almost killed. Only one animal spoke out in Reynard's favor and that was his nephew, Grimbart the Badger. Moved by family loyalty, he effectively showed that Isegrim and Wackerlos had both been quite as guilty of greed as Reynard and, as for the Hare, Grimbart maintained that his uncle had only meant to chastise the creature for his laziness while teaching him to sing his psalms.
Grimbart spoke very eloquently and had almost swayed the court in Reynard's favor when a dramatic eruption undid all the Badger's efforts. Chanticleer the Cock appeared, bearing the mortal remains of a hen. Apparently, Chanticleer had left his dogs to guard the farmyard while he, the Cock, had been absent attending the council meeting. Seizing upon the opportunity, Reynard had struck. Disguised as a monk, he had entered the yard and killed all but five of the Cock's brood, shamelessly violating the royal truce that had always presided over such peaceful gatherings.
King Noble was outraged at such an offense against his authority and decided upon instant action. He sent Bruin the Bear to Reynard's estate of Malpertuis to arrest the villain. But the Fox was equal to the challenge, playing upon his would-be captor's weakness to turn the tables. Pretending to go willingly, Reynard managed to divert his guard to a peasant's yard, where a half-split tree trunk was held apart by wedges. He then persuaded Bruin that there was honey in the hole. When the Bear's muzzle was firmly in the crack, Reynard whipped out the wedges, trapping the unfortunate creature. Bruin's howls soon brought the peasant running and the Bear was beaten unmercifully before finally being able to break free. By then, his prisoner had long gone and was almost back home with his wife and family in Malpertuis.
The next royal messenger dispatched by King Noble fared no better. Reynard sent Tibert the Cat mousing through a hole in a barn wall, straight into a trap that the Fox knew was waiting on the other side. Tibert, too, was lucky to escape with his life. This time, the King's anger knew no bounds. Seeing this, Grimbart thought it best to go himself to Reynard, aiming to use his family influence with his uncle to persuade the Fox to obey the monarch.
When Reynard heard that a personal appearance at court was probably his last chance to appease King Noble, he agreed to go. His arrival caused something of a sensation. So many charges were brought against the Fox that he was quickly found guilty and sentenced to death. Desperately seeking a way out of his predicament, Reynard begged for a chance to at least confess his sins before dying. Being of a gracious and generous nature, the King granted the Fox's request.
Realizing that his wits were now his final resort, Reynard rapidly began to invent lies in order to save his skin. Faking contrition, he insisted that his greatest fault was to have become involved in a plot to dethrone and kill King Noble. He took great care to implicate all his chief accusers, including Bruin, Isegrim, and Tibert, in the conspiracy and maintained that they had amassed a huge sum of money to finance their intrigue. Reynard promised to reveal where this treasure lay...if the King would spare his life. All the Fox asked was that he be allowed to embark upon a pilgrimage to Rome so that he could atone for all the wrongs he had committed.
Convinced by Reynard's silver tongue, King Noble immediately had Isegrim and the others thrown into prison. What was more, the monarch not only gullibly consented to the Fox's request to go on a pilgrimage, but he dispatched Bellyn the Ram and Lampe the Hare to see him on his way. Needless to say, the crafty Fox had barely left court before he had killed and eaten Lampe. In a gruesome twist, he hid the crime from Bellyn, fooling the Ram into returning to court with a wallet that Reynard insisted contained secrets for the King. In fact, poor Lampe's head was inside the purse. Furious at being tricked, King Noble ordered Bellyn's execution...but his fury with Reynard was even greater.
The Fox was quickly captured and dragged back to court so he could face justice. This time, things looked very black indeed for the trickster, but he did not despair. He would simply have to be craftier and more wily than ever. In his defense, Reynard spelled out in detail all the many services he had done the King over the years, and then made a most emotional appeal calculated to touch the heart of any devout, medieval monarch. Let God Himself decide between him and his enemies, proclaimed the Fox, and then he heroically declared that, despite his smaller size, he was willing to meet his chief accuser, Isegrim the Wolf, in trial by combat.
Noble the Lion assented and the showdown was duly arranged. Reynard, of course, was not the most courageous of animals, and it probably goes without saying that he had a ruse in mind. Before the battle, he shaved off his fur and had himself rubbed all over with butter. When the contest began, he kicked dust in Isegrim's face to blind his opponent. Even when Isegrim did manage to come close to the cunning Fox, the Wolf could get no purchase on his slippery adversary. And so, Reynard was able to get the upper hand and emerge as the victor.
To gain favor and approval with the crowd, the Fox asked that Isegrim's life be spared and the Wolf slunk away in disgrace to lick his wounds. Meanwhile, having proven his innocence, Reynard became the toast of the court. He was even offered a post as Privy Councillor...and so, in the human world too, as the tellers of this fable implied, many a man who had risen to high office owed his ascension to quick wits more than to honesty or merit.
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