The Story of the Golden Chair

The Story of the Golden Chair
By Philip Ahier
(1955)


The reign of Queen Elizabeth I saw the beginning of the publication of numerous tracts, pamphlets and broadsides, many of these containing a moral to be drawn from them. The story below appeared in a "broadside" published by William Creed, of London on March 22nd, 1595. In1786 the little booklet was in the possession of one William Herbert, who edited "Ames' Typographical Antiquities", and in 1936 it was purchased from a native of Guernsey by the Societe Jersiaise. (Vol. xiii. p. 33).

"The story of the Golden Chair" which was written in Elizabethan English, has been turned into modern prose for the reader of this curiosity.

The names of Doughton and Dansie referred therein were probably anglicised when the original publication was made.

A fishing boat jointly owned by a Jerseyman named Doughton and a Norman named Dansie, with two Jersey-born sailors, was fishing in Grouville Bay when all saw "at about midnight", what was known as St. Anthony's Fire. (An error for "St. Elmo's Fire," an electrical disturbance in the heavens). The sailors, noticing the phenomenon proceeding landwards, and resting, as they thought, upon a cliff near Mont Orgueil, imagined that it foretold foul and tempestuous weather and ill-luck.

The Norman Dansie had great doubts concerning the success of their fishing operations and suggested to his companions that they should draw in their nets, which had been thrown overboard near the scene of a wreck.

The fishermen then proceeded to haul them in, but one got stuck fast. Not wishing to leave it behind they hauled it up with such a force that they "found it torn above a yard in length."

The party wondered why their net had become torn and flung two anchors into the sea, hoping, by so doing, that something would get hauled up when they were eventually lifted.

Their hopes were realised, for, on hauling up one of them, up came a massive chair made of "clean beaten gold-the form of which was small about the middle, wearing bigger upwards towards the middle, and both ends, the back full of holes in the inner sides and the outmost side full of bosses; the seat very low and round at the bottom, and wrought with embossed works very curious, with divers sorts of branches."

Imagine the surprise of the four men on seeing the extraordinary nature of their catch; they found it to be gold and very fine gold at that. Never before had such booty fallen into their hands, not even to their forbears. How to share it was then the problem?

Dansie and Doughton, joint owners of the fishing boat, thought the best plan would be to cut up the chair "into small pieces," and sell the bits for ready money. To which Dansie, the Norman, added "seeing that our two men are acquainted with the treasure, in order to keep their mouths shut, let them have £100 apiece. They should consider themselves well recompensed, even though they are our hired servants."

Doughton, hearing that his partner was so rash as to give away £200 in this way, replied "No, no! It’s a good deal of money, a less amount should be sufficient for them."

But the Jersey sailors, overhearing the conversation which had taken place between their employers, who were prepared to take the whole chair and let them have but a small share of the booty, were most indignant. One of them, a tall lusty fellow, said that as God had sent it, they should have equal shares, adding that "such greedy churls should not so deprive them of their share of the treasure."

This latter even went so far as to say that he was the first man who had found the net fast, further, that they, the two sailors, had, by their united strength, hauled up the chair, "without whom, they never had enjoyed it." He then swore a great oath that if his companion would be advised by him, "they would have it to themselves, and their masters should have none"!

The other Jerseyman, being "as wilful as his fellow was stubborn," without saying a word, took a boathook and gave Dansie such a blow that he felled him, and then did the same to Doughton, after which they heaved the two old men overboard.

The two Jersey sailors, imagining that they were now fully possessed of the booty, embraced each other, being considerably overjoyed at what they thought their great fortune.

What was to be done next? They could not go back to Jersey, for the question would be asked, "Where are your masters?" Moreover, they realised that "they could not get money for a thing of such worth, in so poor a place as Jersey."

They next thought of sailing with the booty to England, but they felt sure that their small boat could not stand such a perilous and long journey, "and the weather subject to storms". So they decided to sail to Normandy seeing "that the way was short".

They hoisted sail and bent their course thither. Had the wind been more favourable they might have got there the following-day, but the seas had become tempestuous, "they were in great peril, neither would their boat work, but lay tossing on the waves in pitiful manner, the men expecting nothing but death".

While in this unfortunate plight, a pinnace with a crew of sixteen men hovered in the offing. Seeing this boat in danger, "whether of courtesy to save the men, or for covetousness to have what they had," the crew of the pinnace came within hailing distance of each other. But the two Jerseymen "were loath to speak with them". The crew of the pinnace boarded the small craft of the Jerseymen with four men. A fight ensued; two of the sailors from the pinnace were killed, and one of the Jerseymen was slain.

When the remaining Jerseyman saw what was happening, he ran to the golden chair which had been covered with a sail, flung it overboard, and, "leaping after it himself", swam with all possible speed to the shores of Normandy.

In doing so he swallowed a great deal of sea water, while his body got dreadfully scarred from the rocks he encountered on the way.

" He by good fortune, reached the shore by his painful swimming, yet so faint with the bleeding of his wounds, as he had much to do to continue life in him for that time, but through the water in his belly, the soaking of his wounds, and tossing in the waves, grievous sickness assailed him."

The folks on the Normandy shore "did their best to save his life, which was all in vain." Finding that there was no hope of recovering, he confessed to the murder of his two masters and earnestly craved forgiveness of God.

Three days later he died, and during those three days before his death, he told all and sundry what had happened, and hoped that they might find the chair.

The author of this broadside finished his narrative thus:"Let this, and many others, admonish all Christians how a covetous desire of wealth (may) cause them to seek their neighbour's harm. Instead, let them relieve the needy, that God may reward them for it."

How did this remarkable story find its way to London in the first Elizabethan days?

One can only surmise that, the narrative as given by the survivor in either Norman French, or in colloquial French, eventually got to the ears of some Englishman living in Normandy in the days of Queen Elizabeth I.

It will be seen that the covetousness recorded in the above account, together with the subsequent murders provided material for the tract compiler to expatiate upon the folly of greed.