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Huguenot: A Tale of the French Protestants

<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2><h3>THE LAST EFFORTS.</h3> To describe the military manœuvres which took place during the three or four following days would be neither amusing nor instructive to the reader. Suffice it to say, that the small force of the Count de Morseiul diminished as he retreated, while the army of the Chevalier d'Evran was increased by the arrival of two new regiments. The latter had thus an opportunity of extending his line, and frustrating a vigorous effort made by the Count to cut his way into Brittany. Every effort that the Protestant leader made to bring to his aid those who had promised very soon to join him, only showed him that the estimation which he had formed of the degree of vigour and unanimity to be expected from the Huguenots was but too accurate. Almost all those determined and daring leaders of the lower orders who had given energy and activity to all the movements of the insurgents had fallen in the preceding skirmishes. Herval was heard of no more; Paul Virlay had been seen by one of the soldiers to fall by a shot through the head towards the close of the last affair; and at length, with not more than five hundred men under his command, Albert of Morseiul found himself shut in between a force of eight thousand men and the sea. The only consolation that he had was to hear that Clémence de Marly was safe, and the only hope was that some vessels from Rochelle, for which he had despatched a shallop in haste, might be tempted by the large sum he offered to hasten round and carry off a certain portion of his troops, comprising the principal leaders, while the rest laid down their arms, and he himself surrendered to the fate that awaited him. Such were his plans and purposes when the last day of the insurrection dawned upon the world; and we must pause for an instant to describe the situation of his little force on that eventful morning. There is upon that coast a small rocky island, not so high as the celebrated Mont St. Michel, which is on the opposite side of the peninsula of Brittany, but in almost every other respect similar to that famous rock. At the time we speak of this island was fortified, and the guns of the castle commanded almost entirely the small bay in which it was situated. At low water the island becomes a peninsula, being joined to the land like the Mont St. Michel by a narrow neck of land, along the top of which there ran a paved causeway, covered entirely by the sea to the depth of five or six feet at the time of high water. The commandant of the fort was a Protestant gentleman who had distinguished himself in some degree in the service. He had been raised, and greatly favoured by the influence of the Counts of Morseiul, and owed his post to them. He had not only promised to co-operate with the young Count in the commencement of the unfortunate revolt, but he had sent him some assistance, and a large quantity of ammunition; and when the Count found that he was cut off from forcing his way into Brittany on the one hand, or reaching Sainctonge on the other, he had shaped his course past Montaigu towards the little bay in which this island was situated, and had succeeded in reaching it, notwithstanding the efforts of the royalist corps to prevent him. Opposite to the island was a small village, on a high bank above the sea-shore. It possessed a large church, and two or three walled farm houses; and during one half of the night after his arrival, the Count toiled with the country people, who were principally Protestants, to throw up breastworks and plant pallisades, so as to fortify the village in as strong a manner as possible. Four cannon, which were all that he possessed, were planted to command the principal road leading to the village, and ere morning the whole was brought to such a condition as to enable the little band of Protestants to offer a determined and lengthened resistance, should they be driven to do so. Was it then, it may be asked, the purpose of the Count to offer that resistance? It certainly was not; but feeling perfectly sure that the Chevalier d'Evran was disposed to grant the Protestants the most lenient terms consistent with his duty, he took these measures in order to give him the best excuse for treating with the insurgents, and granting them a favourable capitulation. "If," he thought, "the Chevalier can show to the King that it would have cost him two or three thousand of his best troops to overcome or slaughter a poor body of five hundred men, Louis is too wise and too good a soldier himself not to hold him perfectly justified for granting the mildest terms." When all was completed, the Count cast himself down to rest, and slept for some time from utter exhaustion. By the first ray of morning, however, he was upon the shore, looking towards the sea, and beheld, to his no small joy and satisfaction, three vessels, at the distance of about four or five miles, standing off and on, as if waiting for the tide to enter the bay. The tide, however, though not quite at the ebb, had sank so low that there was no chance of their being able to come in till it had quite gone down and risen again; and Albert of Morseiul looked with anxiety for the passing of six or seven hours, which must thus elapse. His anxiety now led him to the other side of the village, and going to one of the farm houses, situated at the corner of a small cart-road which he had barricaded, he went up to a window on the first floor, and looked over the wide view that sloped away below. There appeared, what he had expected to find, the camp of the Chevalier d'Evran, hemming him in on all sides. The distance between the village and the first tents was about two miles, so that at any time, without more than half an hour's notice, the attack upon his little fortress might commence. He was quite prepared, it is true, and doubted not to be able to maintain his post for many hours, knowing that his men would fight with the energy of despair. But no movement whatsoever in the royalist camp indicated any great haste to attack him. There were no groups of officers busily reconnoitring; there were no regiments drawn up as if to march to the assault; and the only objects that were seen were two files of soldiers marching along to relieve the guard at different points of the camp. All this was satisfactory to an experienced eye like that of the Count de Morseiul, and well knowing his opponent, he judged that the Chevalier was waiting for some reply from Paris, ere he gave any answer to the terms which he, the Count, had suggested. He paused, therefore, for nearly twenty minutes, gazing over the scene, when suddenly, from a point of the camp where nothing seemed stirring before, a little group of persons on horseback drew out, and rode swiftly towards the village. The moment after the Count perceived that two of those persons were clad in women's garments; and the rapidity with which they came, showed him that they were fearful of being stopped. Going down from the window in haste, he sprang upon horseback, and with the attendants who were waiting for him below, rode out upon the side of the hill, in order to assist the fugitives in case of need; but no sign of pursuit took place till one half of the distance or more had been passed by the little party; and the Count dismounting about a quarter of a mile from the village, watched their coming with eager eyes and a beating heart, as he recognised the form of Clémence de Marly. When she was beyond all risk of being overtaken, a small party of cavaliers issued forth from another part of the camp, and rode on towards the village, but slowly, and they were still at more than a miles distance when Clémence was in the arms of her lover, and weeping upon his bosom. He led her in as fast as possible, followed by the maid Maria, and no less a person than Jerome Riquet, who seemed to have found of breaking his word so strong a temptation, that he could not resist it. A rumour had spread amongst the Protestants in the town that something of interest was proceeding without, and when the Count and Clémence turned towards the village, they found that their meeting had been witnessed by many eyes. But in the faces of those they passed, Albert of Morseiul read courage brightened, and resolution strengthened, by that which they had just seen; and there was not a man within that little encampment whose heart did not feel elevated and confirmed by witnessing the bursting forth of those tender and ennobling feelings, which ever, when pure and true, dignify man's spirit, and brighten his mind. When they were within the barriers, the Count turned for a moment to look at the other group which had drawn out from the camp; but it did not seem that they were in pursuit of Clémence, for they shaped their course along the road towards the principal entrance of the village, and when the Count turned, he clearly saw them displaying a flag of truce. He led Clémence into the house where he had taken up his head quarters, however, and saying a few soothing words, left her to see what was the intelligence which the Chevalier's envoys conveyed. As he walked down he met a messenger coming to demand his presence at the barrier; and on approaching it, he found waiting, in the guard-house, the old English officer, Sir Thomas Cecil, with one or two French, gentlemen with whom he was slightly acquainted. "Monsieur de Morseiul," said the old Englishman, "I have been charged by Major-General the Chevalier d'Evran to communicate to you the only terms which he is permitted by the King to grant under the circumstances in which you respectively stand. He was long in hopes that those terms would have been more favourable than they are, and they are very painful to me to announce. But as you conveyed to him a message through me, he thought that I ought to undertake to bear the reply." "I thank you, my dear Sir," replied the Count, "most sincerely for undertaking the task. But, as a preliminary, let me tell you before these gentlemen who have come with you, as well as before Monsieur du Bar here, and my own friends around me, that the only terms which I will accept are those which I notified to the Chevalier d'Evran through you, namely, permission for any one hundred of my friends of the reformed religion to retire from France unmolested; a free pardon to all the rest, except myself, on laying down their arms, and a promise that they shall be permitted to exercise their religion in private without annoyance. On these conditions we will immediately lay down our arms, and I will surrender myself at discretion to his Majesty's pleasure." "No, no!--No, no!" cried several voices amongst the Protestants; "we cannot submit to that. We will die at our post with arms in our hands, rather than that the Count shall be sacrificed." "My good friends," replied the Count, "that is a personal matter altogether. I have made the best terms that I can for you, and I have done what I judge right for myself; knowing that the only way of dealing with his Majesty is to throw myself upon his magnanimity." The old Englishman wiped away a tear from his eye. "I am sorry to say, Sir," he rejoined, "that I cannot even mention such favourable terms as those. On condition of your immediately laying down your arms, the Chevalier d'Evran, in the name of the King, offers the following:--Permission for every one not absolutely a subject of France to leave the country unmolested. Free pardon to all but the actual leaders of the revolt, specified in the following list. They must unconditionally surrender to the King's pleasure, and trust to his mercy." The list apparently contained about fifty names; at the head of which stood that of the Count of Morseiul. The Count looked round upon the Protestant gentlemen by whom he was surrounded. On all their countenances but one or two there was awe, but not fear. As the only reply needful, the Marquis du Bar laid his finger upon the hilt of his sword, and the Count turning to Sir Thomas Cecil, said, "You perceive, Sir, that it is utterly impossible we can accede to this demand. I know not whether it has been made under any mistaken impression; but when I offered what I did offer through you to the Chevalier d'Evran, I was just as certain that we should be reduced to the situation in which we are at present as I am now--nay, expected it to be worse than it is. We can but die, Sir; and I have not the slightest objection to lead you round the preparations which I have made for resisting to the last; so that if our blood must be shed, and the Chevalier is determined to sacrifice the lives of a large body of our royal master's troops, he may be satisfied that he cannot carry this position without the loss of two or three thousand men." "It is not necessary, Count. It is not necessary," replied the old officer. "The Chevalier has no choice; the terms are dictated by higher authority; and all that he can do farther than signify those terms to you is to grant you five hours to consider of them. If you like to accept a truce for that time you may take it." The Count was not a little surprised at this indulgence, but he took care to express none; and accepting the truce willingly, suffered the old officer to depart. One or two of the young French officers, whom he had known in the army, wrung his hand as they went away, and besought him, with kindly feelings, to think well of what he was about. One of them, however, ere he went, whispered a more important word in his ear. "There are ships out at sea," he said. "You and the other leaders may get off before the five hours are out." The Count took no notice, but wished him Good-by; and returning with Monsieur du Bar and the rest of the officers, he held a brief consultation with them in the saloon of the little inn. "Had we more boats," he said, "the matter would be easily managed. But there are but two on the shore, which will not carry out above twenty of us. However, my good friends, it becomes necessary to take some prompt resolution. I have begun to be somewhat doubtful to-day of Le Luc, who commands in the fort. He has sent me no answer to my note of last night, and though I do not believe that he would be so great a scoundrel, after all his promises, as to turn against us, yet I must ascertain decidedly what are his intentions; for he might sink the boats as they passed under his guns. If he be still friendly to us, and willing really to aid us, we are safe, for while the soldiery lay down their arms and surrender upon promise of free pardon, you, gentlemen, who all of you, I find, are upon this long list of proscription, can march along the causeway into the fort, and embark in the ships that lie out there. If, on the contrary, we find him a traitor, we must make the boats hold as many as they will, and take the chance of the scoundrel firing upon them. I shall only claim to have one place reserved in one of the boats." "Two," said du Bar; "surely two, Morseiul. Did I not see a lady?" "It is for her I speak," replied the Count. "Du Bar, in pity do not urge me in matters where my resolution is taken. I have pangs and agony at my heart sufficient at this moment, believe me, to be spared that of refusing a friend.--Now then, gentlemen," he added, after a moment's pause, "let five of you accompany me along the causeway which must be passable by this time, to speak to Governor Le Luc. If you will mount your horses, I will be down with you in an instant," and he went up to take one hurried embrace of her he loved, and to explain to her what had happened, and what was proposed, concealing from her, as far as he could, the dangers and difficulties of their situation; but concealing from her still more carefully his own purpose of surrendering at discretion. When this was done he went down, and finding the other gentlemen ready, sprang upon his horse, without noticing that a multitude of the inferior Protestants had gathered round, and seemed to be watching them with somewhat suspicious eyes. The sea had not quite left the causeway dry, except in one or two places, and the sands were still quite covered. But the only result of this was to force the Count and his train to proceed slowly, and one by one, while he himself led the way, the white stone pavement being clearly discernible through the thin water. In the mean time, however, the Protestants who had been gazing at him as he mounted, gathered into knots together, and seemed to be speaking hastily and discontentedly. Some of the inferior officers joined them, and a great deal of tumult and talking ensued, which called out several of the gentlemen of the party to remonstrate. But remonstrance seemed in vain, and the crowd soon after trooped away out of the little open space where they had assembled, in the direction of the corps de garde, where the small battery of cannon was placed. Various broken sentences, however, were heard from time to time, such as, "I would hardly have believed it. To take care of themselves, and leave us to perish. I always said, we should be made the sacrifice. Better be a Catholic and at peace, than that." "Ride after the Count and tell him what is going on," said one of the gentlemen to another, "while I go to our good minister, Monsieur Vigni, and get him to reason with them. You see they are mistaking the matter altogether, and think that we are going to abandon them. Make haste, or it will be too late." The suggestion was instantly followed; but ere the officer could get his horse and ride down to the sea shore, the Count and his party were nearly at the fort, and to them we must now turn. The progress of the young general of the Huguenots had been slower than it might have been, not only on account of the causeway being partially covered with water, but also because the stone, with which it was composed, had in some places been broken up or carried away. He at length reached, however, the fortified head of the causeway at the foot of the rock, and then demanded admission to speak with the governor. This was refused him; but as such might naturally be the case, his suspicions were but little increased by that event. He, however, directed the officer in command immediately to send up and inform the governor Le Luc of his being there, and of his desire to speak with him. After keeping him some time, the officer returned, saying, "that Monsieur le Luc would come down himself to speak with the Count," and during the period that the Protestant leaders were thus occupied in waiting for the appearance of the governor, the Protestant officer arrived from the village, bringing news that the soldiery which had been left behind were in a state of actual mutiny, having entirely mistaken the object of the Count and his companions, and imagined that they were engaged in seeking their own safety, leaving the soldiers to meet whatever fate might befall them. "In the name of Heaven, ride back, Du Bar," said the Count, "and quiet them till I return. It is better for me to stay and speak to this worthy gentleman, who seems to be showing us a cold face, as you know he owes every thing to my house. I will return instantly, as soon as he condescends to favour us with his presence." Du Bar did not reply, but turned his horse, for they were still kept on the outside even of the causeway head, and rode back as fast as he could go, accompanied by one of the other officers. The Count remained, growing more and more impatient every moment; and the governor, perhaps thinking that he would get tired of waiting, and retire without an answer, kept him nearly half an hour before he made his appearance. He then came down with that dull and dogged look, which generally accompanies the purpose of disgraceful actions; and the Count, restraining his indignation, called to him to cause the drawbridge to be lowered, in order that he might speak to him more privately. "No, indeed," replied the governor, with a scoff; "with the little force I have in here, I shall not think of causing the drawbridge to be lowered, when I know that the village is occupied by a large party of armed traitors." "Traitors!" exclaimed the Count; but again overcoming his anger, he added, in a cooler tone, "Monsieur le Luc, up to this moment I have believed you to be of the reformed church." "I am so no longer," muttered the governor. "Well, Sir," continued the Count, "there are other things which may have influence upon men of honour and good feeling besides their religion. There is at the village, as you say, a large party of Protestant gentlemen, assembled in defence of their liberty and freedom of conscience: they find themselves unable to resist the power of those that would oppress them; terms are proposed for extending a free pardon to all but some thirty or forty; those thirty or forty are desirous of obtaining shelter in this fortress for one or two hours at the utmost, till they can embark in those ships, which are waiting for the rising of the tide. Now, Monsieur le Luc, my father gave you the first commission that you held under the crown. He obtained for you your first promotion, and I bestowed upon you the post in this fortress which you now hold. Will you, Sir, grant us the shelter that we demand at your hand. "Very pretty," replied Le Luc, "to talk of honour, and ask me to betray the trust that the King reposes in me." Still the Count kept his temper. "You refuse, then?" he demanded. "Yes, that I do," answered the governor in a rude tone; "and the sooner you take yourself back to the land the better, for I am in no humour to be trifled with." It was with difficulty that the Count restrained himself; but there was one chance more, and he tried it. "Yet another word, my good friend," he said. "There is a matter in which you can favour us without endangering your own safety, or getting into discredit with the government. If we attempt to pass to the ships in what boats we can find, will you pledge me your word that you do not fire into them?" "If you do not make haste away from the gates of this fortress," replied the governor, who saw, by the quivering of the Count's lip the contempt that he could not help feeling, "I will fire upon you where you are, and will sink the boat of every traitor that comes within shot." "Sir," said the Count, "you are a dastardly, pitiful, contemptible scoundrel. It is only happy for you that the drawbridge is between us, or I would treat you like an ill-conditioned hound, and lash you within an inch of your life under my horse's feet." "You shall hear more, traitor; you shall hear more in a minute," replied the governor. "And mind I tell you, the faster you go the better for you." Thus saying, he turned away, and mounted the zigzag staircase in the rock with a rapid step. The Count paused, and turned his horse; but at that very moment he saw a party of horsemen at the other end of the causeway apparently coming towards him with great speed, part of them upon the sands, which by this time had been left dry, part of them following the road in the midst. "It is Du Bar and the rest," said he, in a low voice, to one of the gentlemen near him. "I have a very great mind to stay here, and try to punish that fellow for his insolence. I could swim that little bit of sea in a moment, and the drawbridge once in our possession, the castle would be ours." "Count, Count," shouted the officer of the guard from the fortress-side of the drawbridge "for God's sake make haste and ride back. I hear that governor of ours giving orders for charging the cannon with grape. He will fire upon you as sure as I am alive, for he sent word to the Chevalier d'Evran last night that he would do so." "I thank you, Sir, for your courtesy," replied the Count calmly. "Under these circumstances, my friends, it is better for us to so back." The other officers put their horses into a quick pace, and they rode on; but they had scarcely gone a hundred yards when the cannon of the castle opened a fire of grape upon them. The shot, however, flew over their heads, as they were too near the walls to be easily hit, except from the drawbridge, where the Count could see preparations being made for following up the same course. At the same moment, however, he pulled up his horse, exclaiming, "Good God, that is not the Marquis du Bar: it is the Chevalier d'Evran!" The officers who were with him paused also, and to their surprise, and somewhat to their consternation, perceived that, shut in as they were by the sea on two sides, and by the fortress on another, the only open ground before them was occupied by the Commander-in-chief of the royalist forces, with a numerous staff, and a small escort of cavalry. "We have nothing for it, my friends," said the Count de Morseiul in a low, calm tone, "but to surrender; it is evident our men have capitulated in the village. Let us ride on and meet them." Thus saying he spurred on his horse, while the Chevalier d'Evran galloped forward on his side, waving his hat, and shaking his clenched fist towards the people on the walls of the fort. They either did not recognise him, however, or did not choose to obey his commands; and before he and the Count de Morseiul met, a second discharge of grape-shot took place from the cannon of the castle. At the same moment the Count de Morseiul beheld the Chevalier d'Evran suddenly check up his horse, press his hand upon his side, and fall headlong to the ground, while one of the horses of the Count's party was killed upon the spot, and an officer of the Chevalier's staff fell wounded, but rose up again immediately. The Count galloped eagerly on to the spot where he had seen the Chevalier d'Evran fall, and the memory of long friendship came painfully back upon his heart. Before he had reached the group of soldiers and officers, however, five or six men had raised the unfortunate commander from the ground, and were bearing him rapidly back towards the village. So eagerly were those who remained conversing together, and so fully occupied with their own thoughts, that the Count de Morseiul might, to all appearance, have passed by them without opposition or inquiry; but he himself drew in his rein, demanding, "Is he much hurt?" "Alas! Monsieur de Morseiul," replied the officer, who seemed to be next in command, "he is dead! Killed on the spot by that infernal shot! and a nobler gentleman, or better soldier, never lived. But some of your own people are killed also; are they not?" "One of the horses only, I believe," replied the Count. "Pray, may I ask how all this has happened?--Poor Louis!" "Ride on, ride on, Charliot," said the officer, speaking to one of his own men before he answered the Count, "that scoundrel will fire upon us again. Tell him I will hang him over the drawbridge if he fires another shot Monsieur de Morseiul, I will explain all this as we ride back, for you will have but little time to make your arrangements. Scarcely half an hour ago as Monsieur d'Evran and the rest of us were reconnoitring pretty close to your camp, a party of your men came out and offered to capitulate on certain terms, which the Chevalier instantly agreed to, and they gave us possession of the gate and the corps de garde. Just at that moment, however, came up Monsieur du Bar, who remonstrated somewhat angrily with the Chevalier on signing a capitulation with the men, when he had given the officers a truce of five hours to consider of his terms. He represented that in those five hours all the gentlemen named in the proscribed list might have made their escape. On that the Chevalier replied, that he intended to take no advantage; that the truce should be held to exist notwithstanding the capitulation; and that every gentleman on that list might act exactly as he pleased, without any one trying to impede him. He could not suffer them, of course, to pass through our camp; but if they could escape by sea they might. He said, however, that he wished to speak with this Le Luc, and that he would take the liberty of riding down through the village. Du Bar then asked if he intended to bid Le Luc fire on the boats or ships. He answered quite the contrary; that his only intention was to supersede him in his command, and put an officer in his place who would keep the truce to the letter. You have, therefore, yet four hours nearly, to do what you will in, Monsieur de Morseiul; for I, of course, taking the Chevalier's command, shall maintain all his arrangements, and act in their full spirit." The Count had listened sadly and attentively, and when the royalist officer had done speaking, he replied that by his leave he would ride on as fast as possible to the village, and consult with his companions. "Do so! do so!" answered the other; "and now I think of it, I had better go on to the fort, and put the Chevelier's intentions in execution. For this firing upon you may be considered already a breach of the truce. I shall find you on my return; and at the little auberge you will meet with an English gentleman most anxious to speak with you." Thus saying, he turned again towards the fort, and the Count, with a sad heart, rode back to the village. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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