The Canon's Yeoman's Tale, by Geoffrey Chaucer

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