The Canon’s
Yeoman’s Tale is one of the Canterbury Tales told by Geoffrey Chaucer (c.1340 –
1400). As with many of the tales in the collection, it is accompanied by the
story of its telling; it has features that set it apart from the other tales.
The Canon and
his Yeoman servant
The Canon’s
Yeoman’s Tale is the only one of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales that is not told by
one of the original pilgrims who set out from Southwark. It is also unique in
that the tale is, at least in part, told at first hand, meaning that the teller
is part of the tale.
After the
Second Nun has finished her tale, Chaucer relates that the pilgrims have journeyed
on for another five miles when two horsemen, who have been riding very fast,
catch up with them. These are a canon, in other words a person in holy orders
attached to a cathedral as opposed to being a parish priest, and his servant,
who is referred to as a yeoman.
It turns out
that they had seen the pilgrims as they left their previous night’s lodgings
and decided to join them, because they looked like an amusing bunch of people.
The Host asks the Yeoman if the Canon can tell a good tale, and the Yeoman then
praises his boss to the skies as “a man of high discretion”. At the Host’s
bidding, he then goes on to tell the pilgrims that the Canon is more than he
appears, and that he could pave the streets of Canterbury with gold and silver.
But why, asks
the Host, is he dressed so badly if he is so skilled? The Yeoman answers that
the Canon does not apply his skills as wisely as he might and will never be rich.
The Host asks where they live, and the Yeoman replies that they are in the
worst part of town, with thieves and robbers. The Yeoman goes on to reveal that
the Canon is an alchemist who purports to make silver and gold, but that it is
all a sham.
The Canon
himself has not been part of this discussion, but he suddenly starts to show
interest when he realises that his servant is spilling the beans and telling
these strangers all their trade secrets. However, he is unable to stop the
Yeoman’s tongue; he decides that joining these pilgrims was not such a good
idea after all and he rides off, leaving the Yeoman behind.
The Yeoman
appreciates that his employment is now at an end, but is happy enough to part
company with somebody who has led him astray. He now offers to tell everything
he knows about the craft of alchemy, as an act of confession and penitence. And
so he begins his Tale.
A tale of
dishonesty
In effect, the
Yeoman tells two tales, the first being a personal account of the dishonest
practices of the recently departed Canon. He begins by lamenting the state to
which he been brought after seven years of working as the Canon’s assistant.
He then
describes the “elvish craft” of mixing together and heating all sorts of
strange ingredients. There is a huge amount of detail here, which shows that
Chaucer was deeply knowledgeable and interested in science as it existed during
his time.
The Yeoman
goes on to say that the object of all this effort is to discover the
“philosopher’s stone” that would produce the elixir to cure all illnesses. However,
their experiments often fail because the crucible in which the metals and
everything else are heated is not strong enough, so it breaks and all the
precious ingredients are lost.
This is then
followed by an inquest as to why the experiment failed, with the people who
have been conned into supplying the metals advancing various reasons, none of
them being the right one, which is that the enterprise was doomed from the
start. The alchemist is always able to persuade his backers that things will be
different next time, but there is clearly no intention of any money being
refunded!
A new tale
The Yeoman
now appears to tell a different tale, as it concerns “a canon of religion [who]
would infect all a town”, without it being made clear whether or not this is
the same person as in the first tale. We can take it as read that the Yeoman
intends, through the telling of the tale, to implicate the whole class of
alchemists as conmen and villains. However, the Yeoman also takes the trouble
to point out that most canons do not fall into this category, so specifying a
second canon as an alchemist does sound like a strange coincidence if his
former employer is not intended to be the target of his anger.
The canon of
the story goes to a priest and asks to borrow a gold mark, promising to return
it after three days. This he does, thus convincing the priest that he is a man
who can be trusted. To thank the priest, the canon offers to show him how he
“can work in philosophy”. The priest agrees, at which point the Yeoman bewails
his fate in advance, so that we know already that some foul deed is to be
committed.
There is an
aside at this point, as if the Host had asked the question that was asked
above, namely are the two canons one and the same person? No, says the Yeoman,
but the man I used to work for was a villain nonetheless who “has betrayed folk
many a time”.
The canon
asks the priest to supply him with three ounces of quicksilver (mercury), which
he does. The canon offers to transform the quicksilver into real silver, but
then performs a series of tricks that involve the use of silver filings, wax,
and sleight of hand, to give the impression that solid silver has been produced.
One of his tricks involves the transformation of copper into silver, performed
by switching the copper for silver while the priest is not looking. The canon
even “proves” his science by having the silver assayed by a goldsmith.
The priest is
so impressed that he asks the canon for the “recipe”, and is told that it will
cost him forty pounds, which would have been a huge sum of money at that time.
The canon agrees to share the secret, but swears the priest to absolute secrecy
on his part. Of course, the recipe is useless, the canon disappears from the
scene, and the priest realises that he has been conned.
The moral of
the tale
The Yeoman
points out the moral of the story, which is that the promise of riches will
lead gullible people into losing their money. He quotes several sources,
including Plato, who state the impossibility of transforming one substance into
another, and ends by stating that such work is evil because it is against God’s
will.
There is
something about the Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale that rings true for all ages, as even
today there are millions of people who are willing to be duped and scammed due
to their mistaken belief that vast riches lie just around the corner. There
have always been snake oil salesmen, and fools who can be parted easily from
their money. The trick of proving oneself honest, so that the victim will trust
the conman when “the con is on”, has been the stuff of hustling for centuries.
We can imagine the ghost of Chaucer reading about today’s Internet scams and saying
“I told you so”.
The immediacy
of this Tale derives in part from its universality, and also possibly from a
real example of a canon who practised alchemy and who was known to Chaucer.
This was William Shuchirch of Windsor ,
who may even have duped Chaucer, or perhaps Chaucer was wise enough not to have
fallen victim to his tricks and wanted to warn others to be careful.
Be that as it
may, the Yeoman, his employer, and the characters of the tale are particularly
lifelike and human, and the tale works well on several levels. It is certainly
one of Chaucer’s best.
© John Welford
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