try. No
traveller passed untaxed; all were compelled to pay toll. In 1504, the
Bishop of St. Brieuc complains to the Parliament at Rennes that,
regardless of the safeguard of the Duke, the foresters of the Lord of La
Hunaudaye had carried off his horses, trunks, and baggage, and, a year
later, they had the audacity to stop the Queen-Duchess Anne on her way to
a pilgrimage to the Folgoet. The Queen was conducted to the presence of
the Lord of La Hunaudaye, who maintained to her that he had only exercised
his right of exacting a ransom from all who passed through the forest
without his permission, but that he waived his privilege in favour of his
Sovereign. Be that as it may, he received her Majesty most royally, as the
old chaplain, Oliver de la Roche recounts, and gave a splendid banquet,
which he fully describes. The table, he says, was four times covered with
thirty-six dishes of viands, and lastly, was brought in, "en grande
veneration," by eight squires, a whole calf, standing on its legs, well
seasoned, with an orange in its mouth; and, when it appeared, the trumpets
sounded so loud that it seemed as if the walls shook. On seeing the
"dainty dish" that was "set before the Queen," all wished to have a share;
and the chaplain relates, with great satisfaction, how he was served
himself twice by the Lord of La Hunaudaye.

The dark deeds of the lords of La Hunaudaye have given rise to many a
legend. The following is a translation of one of the most popular:--

LEGEND OF LA HUNAUDAYE.
_(Translation.)_

"When the rock eagle wakes,
And the towers of Hunaudaye
Gleam like three phantom forms
In the morning's sunlight ray;
When night her darksome wing
Folds round this desert waste,
Shun all this cursed ground--
Traveller flee thou in haste.

"There once--Great Heaven shield
Us all! and no ill arise--
There once--Hush! leave me not;
Hear you, from the ground, low sighs?--
There once--wrapped in the gloom
Of a dark and rainy night,
A man of haughty mien
Knocked at the door of might.

"'Open!' cried he,--it turns
On groaning hinge. The rain
Pours, but the frightened guards
Mark neither spot nor stain
On his purple cloak--nor his plumes
Droop wet, yet the torrents fall
Wildly and fast to night,
Beating the castle wall.

"The baron, stern and sad,
Was in his tower alone,
Pacing, with mailed h