THE LAST EFFORTS.
To describe the military man[oe]uvres 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 Clemence 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 Clemence 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 Clemence 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 Clemence
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 Clemence, 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 Clemence 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.