Before the treaty of Lonjumeau had been signed many weeks, the
Huguenots were sensible of the folly they had committed, in
throwing away all the advantages they had gained in the war, by
laying down their arms upon the terms of a treaty made by a
perfidious woman and a weak and unstable king, with advisers bent
upon destroying the reformed religion. They had seen former edicts
of toleration first modified and then revoked, and they had no
reason even to hope that the new treaty, which had been wrung from
the court by its fears, would be respected by it.
The Huguenots were not surprised to find, therefore, that as soon
as they had sent back their German auxiliaries and returned to
their homes--the ink, indeed, was scarcely dry on the paper upon
which the treaty was written--its conditions were virtually
annulled. From the pulpit of every Catholic church in France, the
treaty was denounced in the most violent language; and it was
openly declared that there could be no peace with the Huguenots.
These, as they returned home, were murdered in great numbers and,
in many of the cities, the mobs rose and massacred the defenceless
Protestants.
Heavy as had been the persecutions before the outbreak of the war,
they were exceeded by those that followed it. Some of the governors
of the provinces openly refused to carry out the conditions of the
treaty. Charles issued a proclamation that the edict was not
intended to include any of the districts that were appanages of his
mother, or of any of the royal or Bourbon princes. In the towns the
soldiers were quartered upon the Huguenots, whom they robbed and
ill treated at their pleasure; and during the six months that this
nominal peace lasted, no less than ten thousand Huguenots were
slaughtered in various parts of France.
"The Prince of Conde, the Admiral, his brothers, and our other
leaders may be skilful generals and brave men," the Countess de
Laville said indignantly to Francois when, with the troop, reduced
by war, fever, and hardship to one-third of its number, he had
returned to the chateau, "but they cannot have had their senses
about them, when they permitted themselves to be cozened into
laying down their arms, without receiving a single guarantee that
the terms of the treaty should be observed.
"Far better never to have taken up arms at all. The king has come
to regard us as enemies. The Catholics hate us more than ever, for
our successful resistance. Instead of being in a better position
than we were before, we shall be in a worse. We have given up all
the towns we had captured, thrown away every advantage we had
gained and, when we are again driven to take up arms, we shall be
in a worse position than before; for they no longer despise us, and
will in future be on their guard. There will be no repeating the
surprise of last September.
"I am disappointed above all in the Admiral, D'Andelot, La
Rochefoucauld, and Genlis. Conde I have never trusted as one to be
relied upon, in an extremity. He is a royal prince, has been
brought up in courts, and loves gaiety and ease; and although I say
not that he is untrue to the Huguenot cause, yet he would gladly
accommodate matters; and as we see, even in this treaty, the great
bulk of the Huguenots all over the country have been utterly
deserted, their liberty of worship denied, and their very lives are
at the mercy of the bigots.
"What do you think, Philip? Have you had enough of fighting for a
party who wilfully throw away all that they have won by their
sacrifices? Are you thinking of returning home, or will you wait
for a while, to see how matters go on?"
"I will, with your permission, wait," Philip said. "I lament this
peace, which seems to me to leave us in a worse position than
before the war; but I agree with you that it cannot last, and that
ere long the Huguenots will be driven again to take up arms.
Francois and I have become as brothers and, until the cause is
either lost or won, I would fain remain."
"That is well, Philip. I will be glad to have you with us, my
nephew. La Noue wrote to me, a month since, saying that both my son
and you had borne yourselves very gallantly; that he was well
pleased to have had you with him; and that he thought that, if
these wars of religion continued--which they might well do for a
long time, as in Germany and Holland, as well as in France, the
reformed religion is battling for freedom--you would both rise to
eminence as soldiers.
"However, now that peace is made, we must make the best of it. I
should think it will not be broken until after the harvest and
vintage; for until then all will be employed, and the Catholics as
well as the Huguenots must repair their losses, and gather funds,
before they can again take the field with their retainers.
Therefore, until then I think that there will be peace."
The summer passed quietly at Laville. The tales of massacre and
outrage, that came from all parts of France, filled them with
horror and indignation; but in their own neighbourhood, all was
quiet. Rochelle had refused to open her gates to the royal troops
and, as in all that district the Huguenots were too numerous to be
interfered with by their neighbours, the quiet was unbroken.
Nevertheless, it was certain that hostilities would not be long
delayed. The Catholics, seeing the advantage that the perfect
organization of the Huguenots had given them at the commencement of
the war, had established leagues in almost every province. These
were organized by the clergy, and the party that looked upon the
Guises as their leaders and, by the terms of their constitution,
were evidently determined to carry out the extirpation of the
reformed religion, with or without the royal authority; and were,
indeed, bent upon forming a third party in the state, looking to
Philip of Spain rather than to the King of France as their leader.
So frequent and daring were the outrages, in Paris, that Conde soon
found that his life was not safe there; and retired to Noyers, a
small town in Burgundy. Admiral Coligny, who had been saddened by
the loss of his brave wife, who had died from a disease contracted
in attending upon the sick and wounded soldiers at Orleans, had
abandoned the chateau at Chatillon-sur-Loing, where he had kept up
a princely hospitality; and retired to the castle of Tanlay,
belonging to his brother D'Andelot, situated within a few miles of
Noyers. D'Andelot himself had gone to Brittany, after writing a
remonstrance to Catharine de Medici upon the ruin and desolation
that the breaches of the treaty, and the persecution of a section
of the population, were bringing upon France.
The Chancellor L'Hopital had, in vain, urged toleration. His
adversaries in the royal council were too strong for him. The
Cardinal of Lorraine had regained his old influence. The king
appointed, as his preachers, four of the most violent advocates of
persecution. The De Montmorencys, for a time, struggled
successfully against the influence of the Cardinal of Lorraine; who
sought supreme power, under cover of Henry of Anjou's name. Three
of the marshals of France--Montmorency, his brother Danville, and
Vielleville--supported by Cardinal Bourbon, demanded of the council
that D'Anjou should no longer hold the office of lieutenant
general. Catharine at times aided the Guises, at times the
Montmorencys; playing off one party against the other, but chiefly
inclining to the Guises, who gradually obtained such an ascendency
that the Chancellor L'Hopital, in despair, retired from the
council; and thus removed the greatest obstacle to the schemes and
ambition of the Cardinal of Lorraine.
At the commencement of August the king despatched, to all parts of
his dominions, copies of an oath that was to be demanded from every
Huguenot. It called upon them to swear never to take up arms, save
by the express command of the king; nor to assist with counsel,
money, or food any who did so; and to join their fellow citizens in
the defence of their towns against those who disobeyed this
mandate. The Huguenots unanimously declined to sign the oath.
With the removal of the chancellor from the council, the party of
Lorraine became triumphant; and it was determined to seize the
whole of the Huguenot leaders, who were quietly residing upon their
estates in distant parts of France. Gaspard de Tavannes was charged
with the arrest of Conde and the Admiral; and fourteen companies of
men-at-arms, and as many of infantry were placed under his orders,
and these were quietly and secretly marched to Noyers.
Fortunately Conde received warning, just before the blow was going
to be struck. He was joined at Noyers by the Admiral, with his
daughter and sons, and the wife and infant son of D'Andelot. Conde
himself had with him his wife and children. They were joined by a
few Huguenot noblemen from the neighbourhood; and these, with the
servants of the prince and Admiral, formed an escort of about a
hundred and fifty horse.
Escape seemed well-nigh hopeless. Tavannes' troops guarded most of
the avenues of escape. There was no place of refuge save La
Rochelle, several hundred miles away, on the other side of France.
Every city was in the hands of their foes, and their movements were
encumbered with the presence of women and young children.
There was but one thing in their favour--their enemies naturally
supposed that, should they attempt to escape, they would do so in
the direction of Germany, where they would be warmly welcomed by
the Protestant princes. Therefore it was upon that line that the
greatest vigilance would be displayed by their enemies.
Before starting, Coligny sent off a very long and eloquent protest
to the king; defending himself for the step that he was about to
take; giving a history of the continuous breaches of the treaty,
and of the sufferings that had been inflicted upon the Huguenots;
and denouncing the Cardinal of Lorraine and his associates, as the
guilty causes of all the misfortunes that had fallen upon France.
It was on the 23d of August that the party set out from Noyers.
Their march was prompt and rapid. Contrary to expectation, they
discovered an unguarded ford across the Loire, near the town of
Laussonne. This ford was only passable when the river was unusually
low, and had therefore escaped the vigilance of their foes. The
weather had been for some time dry, and they were enabled, with
much difficulty, to effect a crossing; a circumstance which was
regarded by the Huguenots as a special act of Providence, the more
so as heavy rain fell the moment they had crossed, and the river
rose so rapidly that when, a few hours later, the cavalry of
Tavannes arrived in pursuit, they were unable to effect a passage.
The party had many other dangers and difficulties to encounter but,
by extreme caution and rapidity of movement, they succeeded in
baffling their foes, and in making their way across France.
On the evening of the 16th of September, a watchman on a tower of
the chateau of Laville shouted, to those in the courtyard, that he
perceived a considerable body of horsemen in the distance. A
vigilant watch had been kept up for some time, for an army had for
some weeks been collected, with the ostensible motive of capturing
Rochelle and compelling it to receive a royal garrison; and as, on
its approach, parties would probably be sent out to capture and
plunder the chateaux and castles of the Huguenot nobles, everything
had been prepared for a siege.
The alarm bell was at once rung, to warn the neighbourhood of
approaching danger. The vacancies, caused in the garrison during
the war, had been lately filled up; and the gates were now closed,
and the walls manned; the countess herself, accompanied by her son
and Philip, taking her place on the tower by the gateway. The party
halted, three or four hundred yards from the gate, and then two
gentlemen rode forward.
"The party look to me more like Huguenots than Catholics, mother,"
Francois had said. "I see no banners; but their dresses look sombre
and dark, and I think that I can see women among them."
A minute later, Philip exclaimed:
"Surely, Francois, those gentlemen who are approaching are Conde
and the Admiral!"
"Impossible!" the countess said. "They are in Burgundy, full three
hundred miles away."
"Philip is right, mother," Francois said eagerly. "I recognize them
now. They are, beyond doubt, the prince and Admiral Coligny.
"Lower the drawbridge, and open the gates," he called down to the
warders.
The countess hastened down the stairs to the courtyard, followed by
Francois and Philip, and received her two unexpected visitors as
they rode across the drawbridge.
"Madame," Conde said, as he doffed his cap courteously, "we are
fugitives, who come to ask for a night's shelter. I have my wife
and children with me, and the Admiral has also his family. We have
ridden across France, from Noyers, by devious roads and with many
turnings and windings; have been hunted like rabid beasts, and are
sorely in need of rest."
"You are welcome, indeed, prince," the countess said. "I esteem it
a high honour to entertain such guests as yourself and Admiral
Coligny. Pray enter at once. My son will ride out to welcome the
princess, and the rest of your party."
Francois at once leapt on to a horse and galloped off, and in a few
minutes the party arrived. Their numbers had been considerably
increased since they left Noyers, as they had been joined by many
Huguenot gentlemen on the way, and they now numbered nearly four
hundred men.
"We have grown like a snowball, since we started," the prince said;
"and I am ashamed to invade your chateau with such an army."
"It is a great honour, prince. We had heard a rumour that an
attempt had been made to seize you; and that you had disappeared,
no one knew whither, and men thought that you were directing your
course towards Germany; but little did we dream of seeing you here,
in the west."
It was not until evening that the tale of the journey across
France, with its many hazards and adventures, was told; for the
countess was fully occupied in seeing to the comforts of her guests
of higher degree, while Francois saw that the men-at-arms and
others were bestowed as comfortably as might be. Then oxen and
sheep were killed, casks of wine broached, forage issued for the
horses; while messengers were sent off to the nearest farms for
chicken and ducks, and with orders for the women to come up, to
assist the domestics at the chateau to meet this unexpected strain.
"It is good to sit down in peace and comfort, again," Conde said
as, supper over, they strolled in the garden, enjoying the cool air
of the evening. "This is the first halt that we have made, at any
save small villages, since we left Noyers. In the first place, our
object was concealment; and in the second, though many of our
friends have invited us to their castles, we would not expose them
to the risk of destruction, for having shown us hospitality.
"Here, however, we have entered the stronghold of our faith; for
from this place to La Rochelle, the Huguenots can hold their own
against their neighbours, and need fear nothing save the approach
of a large army; in which case, countess, your plight could
scarcely be worse for having sheltered us. The royal commissioners
of the province must long have had your name down, as the most
stiff necked of the Huguenots of this corner of Poitou, as one who
defies the ordinances, and maintains public worship in her chateau.
Your son and nephew fought at Saint Denis; and you sent a troop
across France, at the first signal, to join me. The cup of your
offences is so full that this last drop can make but little
difference, one way or the other."
"I should have felt it as a grievous slight, had you passed near
Laville without halting here," the countess said. "As for danger,
for the last twenty years we have been living in danger; and
indeed, during the last year I have felt safer than ever for, now
that La Rochelle has declared for us, there is a place of refuge,
for all of the reformed religion in the provinces round, such as we
have not before possessed. During the last few months, I have sent
most of my valuables in there for safety; and if the tide of war
comes this way, and I am threatened by a force against which it
would be hopeless to contend, I shall make my way thither.
"But against anything short of an army, I shall hold the chateau.
It forms a place of refuge to which, at the approach of danger, all
of our religion for many miles round would flock in; and as long as
there is a hope of successful resistance, I would not abandon them
to the tender mercies of Anjou's soldiers."
"I fear, countess," the Admiral said, "that our arrival at La
Rochelle will bring trouble upon all the country round it. We had
no choice between that and exile. Had we consulted our own peace
and safety only, we should have betaken ourselves to Germany; but
had we done that, it would have been a desertion of our brethren,
who look to us for leading and guidance.
"Here at La Rochelle we shall be in communication with Navarre and
Gascony; and doubt not that we shall, ere very long, be again at
the head of an army with which we can take the field, even more
strongly than before; for after the breaches of the last treaty,
and the fresh persecutions and murders throughout the land, the
Huguenots everywhere must clearly perceive that there is no option
between destruction, and winning our rights at the point of the
sword.
"Nevertheless, as the court will see that it is to their interest
to strike at once, before we have had time to organize an army, I
think it certain that the whole Catholic forces will march, without
loss of time, against La Rochelle. Our only hope is that, as on the
last occasion, they will deceive themselves as to our strength. The
evil advisers of the king, when persuading him to issue fresh
ordinances against us, have assured him that with strong garrisons
in all the great towns in France, and with his army of Swiss and
Germans still on foot, we are altogether powerless; and are no
longer to be feared, in the slightest degree.
"We know that even now, while they deem us but a handful of
fugitives, our brethren throughout France will be everywhere
banding themselves in arms. Before we left Noyers we sent out a
summons, calling the Huguenots in all parts of France to take up
arms again. Their organization is perfect in every district. Our
brethren have appointed places where they are to assemble, in case
of need; and by this time I doubt not that, although there is no
regular army yet in the field, there are scores of bands ready to
march, as soon as they receive orders.
"It is true that the Catholics are far better prepared than before.
They have endeavoured, by means of these leagues, to organize
themselves in our manner; but there is one vital difference. We
know that we are fighting for our lives and our faith, and that
those who hang back run the risk of massacre in their own homes.
The Catholics have no such impulse. Our persecutions have been the
work of the mobs in the towns, excited by the priests; and these
ruffians, though ardent when it is a question of slaying
defenceless women and children, are contemptible in the field
against our men. We saw how the Parisians fled like a flock of
sheep, at Saint Denis.
"Thus, outnumbered as we are, methinks we shall take up arms far
more quickly than our foes; and that, except from the troops of
Anjou, and the levies of the great Catholic nobles, we shall have
little to fear. Even in the towns the massacres have ever been
during what is called peace; and there was far less persecution,
during the last two wars, than in the intervals between them."
The next morning the prince and Admiral, with their escort, rode on
towards La Rochelle; which they entered on the 18th September. The
countess, with a hundred of her retainers and tenants, accompanied
them on the first day's journey; and returned, the next day, to the
chateau.
The news of the escape, and the reports that the Huguenots were
arming, took the court by surprise; and a declaration was at once
published, by the king, guaranteeing his royal protection to all
adherents of the reformed faith who stayed at home, and promising a
gracious hearing to their grievances. As soon, however, as the
Catholic forces began to assemble in large numbers, the mask of
conciliation was thrown off, all edicts of toleration were
repealed, and the king prohibited his subjects in all parts of his
dominions, of whatever rank, from the exercise of all religious
rites other than those of the Catholic faith, on pain of
confiscation and death.
Nothing could have been more opportune, for the Huguenot leaders,
than this decree. It convinced even the most reluctant that their
only hope lay in resistance; and enabled Conde's agents, at foreign
courts, to show that the King of France was bent upon exterminating
the reformed faith, and that its adherents had been forced to take
up arms, in self preservation.
The fanatical populations of the towns rejoiced in the new decree.
Leagues for the extermination of heresy were formed, in Toulouse
and other towns, under the name of Crusades; and high masses were
celebrated in the churches, everywhere, in honour of the great
victory over heresy.
The countess had offered to send her son, with fifty men-at-arms,
to swell the gathering at La Rochelle; but the Admiral declined the
offer. Niort was but a day's march from the chateau and, although
its population were of mixed religion, the Catholics might, under
the influence of the present excitement, march against Laville. He
thought it would be better, therefore, that the chateau should be
maintained, with all its fighting force, as a centre to which the
Huguenots of the neighbourhood might rally.
"I think," he said, "that you might, for some time, sustain a siege
against all the forces that could be brought from Niort; and if you
are attacked I will, at once, send a force from the city to your
assistance. I have no doubt that the Queen of Navarre will join us,
and that I shall be able to take the offensive, very shortly."
Encouraged by the presence of the Admiral at La Rochelle, the whole
of the Huguenots of the district prepared to take the field,
immediately. Laville was the natural centre, and two hundred and
fifty men were ready to gather there, directly an alarm was given.
Three days later a man arrived at the chateau from Niort, soon
after daybreak. He reported that, on the previous day, the populace
had massacred thirty or forty Huguenots; and that all the rest they
could lay hands on, amounting in number to nearly two hundred, had
been dragged from their homes and thrown into prison. He said that
in all the villages round, the priests were preaching the
extermination of the Huguenots; and it was feared that, at any
moment, those of the religion would be attacked there; especially
as it was likely that the populace of the town would flock out, and
themselves undertake the work of massacre should the peasants, who
had hitherto lived on friendly terms with the Huguenots, hang back
from it.
"We must try to assist our brethren," the countess said, when she
heard the news. "Francois, take what force you can get together in
an hour, and ride over towards Niort. You will get there by midday.
If these ruffians come out from the town, do you give them a
lesson; and ride round to the villages, and bring off all of our
religion there. Assure them that they shall have protection here
until the troubles are over, or until matters so change that they
can return safely to their homes. We cannot sit quietly, and hear
of murder so close at hand. I see no prospect of rescuing the
unfortunates from the prison at Niort; and it would be madness,
with our small force, to attack a walled city; but I leave you free
to do what may seem best to you, warning you only against
undertaking any desperate enterprise.
"Philip will, of course, ride with you."
"Shall we ring the alarm bell, mother?"
"No; it is better not to disturb the tenantry, unless on very grave
occasion. Take the fifty men-at-arms, your own men, and Philip's.
Sixty will be ample for dispersing disorderly mobs; while a hundred
would be of no use to you, against the armed forces of the town and
the garrison of two hundred men."
In a quarter of an hour, the troop started. All knew the errand on
which they were bent, and the journey was performed at the highest
speed of which the horses were capable.
"They can have a good, long rest when they get there," Francois
said to Philip; "and half an hour, earlier or later, may mean the
saving or losing of fifty lives. The mob will have been feasting,
and exulting over the slaying of so many Huguenots, until late last
night; and will not be astir early, this morning. Probably, too,
they will, before they think of sallying out, attend the churches;
where the priests will stir them up to fury, before they lead them
out on a crusade into the country.
"I would that we knew where they are likely to begin. There are a
dozen villages, round the town."
"What do you say to dividing our force, Francois? As we near the
town, you with one party could ride round to the left, I with the
other to the right and, searching each village as we go, could join
forces again on the other side of the town. If Montpace had been
with us, of course he would have taken the command of one of the
parties. It is unfortunate that he is laid up with that wound he
got, at Saint Denis."
"I am afraid he will never be fit for active service again, Philip.
But I am not sorry that he is not here. He might have objected to
our dividing the troop; and besides, I am glad that you should
command, putting aside everything else. We understand each other.
"You will, of course, cut down the ruffians from the towns without
mercy, if you find them engaged in massacre. If not, you will warn
the Huguenots of the villages, as you pass through, to leave their
homes at once and make for Laville; giving a sharp intimation to
the village maires that, if the Protestants are interfered with in
any way, or hindered from taking their goods and setting out; we
will, on our return, burn the village about their ears, and hang up
any who have interfered with our people."
"I should say, Francois, that we should take prisoners, and hold as
hostages, any citizens of importance, or priests, whom we may find
encouraging the townsfolk to massacre. I would take the village
priests, and maire too, so as to carry out the same plan that acted
so well at Toulouse. We could then summon Niort, and say that,
unless the Huguenots in prison are released, and they and all the
Huguenots in the town allowed to come out and join us, we will in
the first place burn and destroy all the Catholic villages round
the town, and the pleasure houses and gardens of the citizens; and
that in the second place we will carry off the prisoners in our
hands, and hang them at once, if we hear of a single Huguenot being
further ill treated."
"That would be a capital plan, Philip, if we could get hold of
anyone of real importance. It is likely some of the principal
citizens, and perhaps Catholic nobles of the neighbourhood, will be
with those who sally out; so that they can claim credit and praise,
from the court party, for their zeal in the cause. I wish our
parties had been a little stronger for, after we have entered a
village or two, we shall have to look after the prisoners."
"I do not think it matters, Francois. A dozen stout men-at-arms,
like ours, would drive a mob of these wretches before them. They
will come out expecting to murder unresisting people; and the sight
of our men-at-arms, in their white scarves, will set them off
running like hares."
"Let it be understood," Philip continued, "that if, when one of us
gets round to the other side of the town, he should not meet the
other party, and can hear no tidings of it, he shall gallop on till
he meets it; for it is just possible, although I think it unlikely,
that one or other of us may meet with so strong a party of the
enemy as to be forced to stand on the defensive, until the other
arrives."
"I think there is little chance of that, Philip; still, it as well
that we should make that arrangement."
As they neared Niort, they met several fugitives. From them they
learned that, so far, the townspeople had not come out; but that
the Catholics in the villages were boasting that an end would be
made of the Huguenots that day, and that many of them were, in
consequence, deserting their homes and making their escape, as
secretly as they could, across the country. When within two miles
of Niort, a column of smoke was seen to arise on the left of the
town.
"They have begun the work!" Francois exclaimed. "That is my side!"
And he placed himself at the head of half the troop, giving them
orders that they were to spare none whom they found engaged in
massacring Huguenots, save priests and other persons acting as
leaders. These were to be taken as hostages, for the safety of
their brethren in the town.
"You need not be over careful with them," he said. "Throw a picket
rope round their necks, and make them trot beside you. They came
out for a little excitement, let them have enough of it."
As Francois rode off one way, Philip led his party the other.
"You have heard these orders," he said. "They will do for you,
also."
The first place they rode into, they found the Catholic inhabitants
in the streets; while the houses of the Huguenots were closed, and
the shutters barred. The men fled as the troop dashed in.
"Pursue them," Philip cried, "and thrash them back with the flat of
your swords, but wound no one."
Most of the men were soon brought back. By this time the Huguenots
had opened their doors and, with shouts of joy, were welcoming
their deliverers.
"Have they threatened you with harm?" Philip asked.
"Yes; there has been mass in the church this morning, and the
priest has told them to prepare to join in the good work, as soon
as the townspeople arrive."
The priest had already been fetched from his house, guarded by two
troopers. The maire was next pointed out, and seized. Two horses
were brought out, and the prisoners placed on them.
"Put a rope round each of their necks," Philip ordered. "Fasten it
firmly."
Two troopers took the other ends.
"Now you will come along with us," Philip went on, "and if you try
to escape, so much the worse for you.
"Now," he said to the villagers, "we shall return here shortly, and
then woe betide you if our orders are not executed. Every house in
the village shall be burned to the ground, every man we lay hold of
shall be hung.
"You will at once place every horse and cart here at the disposal
of your Huguenot brethren. You will assist them to put their
household goods in them, and will at once start with them for
Laville. Those who do so will be allowed to return, unharmed, with
their animals and carts.
"Eustace, you will remain here with two men, and see that this
order is carried out. Shoot down without hesitation any man who
murmurs. If there is any trouble whatever, before our return, the
priest and the maire shall dangle from the church tower."
The next two villages they entered, the same scene was enacted. As
they approached the fourth village, they heard cries and screams.
"Lower your lances, my friends. Forward!"
And at a gallop, the little band dashed into the village.
It was full of people. Several bodies of men and women lay in the
road. Pistol shots rang out here and there, showing that some of
the Huguenots were making a stout defence of their homes. Through
and through the crowd the horsemen rode, those in front clearing
their way with their lances, those behind thrusting and cutting
with their swords.
The Catholics were, for the most part, roughly armed. Some had
pikes, some had swords, others axes, choppers, or clubs; but none
now thought of defence. The arms that had been brought out for the
work of murder were thrown away, and there was no thought, save of
flight.
The doors of the Huguenot houses were thrown open and the men,
issuing out, fell upon those who were, just before, their
assailants. Philip saw some horsemen, and others, collected round a
cross in the centre of the village and, calling upon the men near
him to follow, dashed forward and surrounded the party, before they
apprehended the meaning of this sudden tumult. Two or three of the
men drew their swords, as if to resist; but seeing that their
friends were completely routed, they surrendered.
The party consisted of three men who were, by their dresses,
persons of rank; four or five citizens, also on horseback; four
priests, and a dozen acolytes, with banners and censers.
"Tie their hands behind them," Philip ordered. "Not the boys; let
them go."
"I protest against this indignity," one of the gentlemen said. "I
am a nobleman."
"If you were a prince of the blood, sir, and I found you engaged in
the massacre of innocent people, I would tie you up, and set you
swinging from the nearest tree, without compunction."
Their arms were all tightly bound behind them.
"Would you touch a servant of the Lord?" the leading priest said.
"Your clothing is that of a servant of the Lord," Philip replied;
"but as I find you engaged upon the work of the devil, I can only
suppose that you have stolen the clothes.
"Four of you take these priests behind you," he said to his men;
"tie them tightly, with their backs to yours. That will leave you
the use of your arms.
"Pierre, do you ride beside the other prisoners and, if you see any
attempt at escape, shoot them at once.
"Quick, my lads; there may be more of this work going on, ahead."
He then gave similar instructions, for the carriage of the Huguenot
goods, as he had at the preceding places.
At the next village they were in time to prevent the work of
massacre from commencing. A party of horsemen and some priests,
followed by a mob, were just entering it as they rode up. The
horsemen were overthrown by their onset, the mob sent flying back
towards the town, the Huguenots charging almost up to the gates.
The horsemen and priests were made prisoners, as before; and when
the rest of the band returned from their pursuit, they again rode
on. They had now made half a circuit of Niort, and presently saw
Francois and his party, galloping towards them.
"I had begun to be afraid that something had happened," Francois
said, as he rode up. "I waited a quarter of an hour and then rode
on, as we agreed.
"Well, I see you have got a good batch of prisoners."
"We have lost no time," Philip said. "We have been through five
villages. At one we were just in time, for they had begun the work
of massacre, before we got up. At another, we met them as they
arrived. But at the other three, although the villagers were
prepared for the work, the townsmen had not arrived."
"There were only three villages on my side," Francois said. "At the
first, they had nearly finished their work before we arrived. That
was where we saw the smoke rising. But we paid them for it
handsomely, for we must have cut down more than a hundred of the
scoundrels. At one of the others, the Huguenots were defending
themselves well; and there, too, we gave the townspeople a lesson.
At the third, all was quiet. We have taken six or eight burghers,
as many gentlemen, and ten priests."
Philip told him the orders he had given, for the Catholics to place
their horses and carts at the disposal of their Huguenot fellow
villagers.
"I wish I had thought of it," Francois said. "But it is not too
late. I will ride back with my party, and see all our friends well
on their way from the villages. I left four men at each, to keep
the Catholics from interfering.
"If you will go back the way you came, we will meet again on the
main road, on the other side of the town. I don't think there is
any fear of their making a sortie. Our strength is sure to be
greatly exaggerated; and the fugitives, pouring in from each side
of the town with their tales, will spread a report that Conde
himself, with a whole host of horsemen, is around them."
Philip found all going on well, as he returned through the
villages, the scare being so great that none thought of disobeying
the orders; and in a couple of hours he rejoined Francois, having
seen the whole of the Huguenot population of the villages well on
their way.
"Now, Philip, we will go and summon the town. First of all, though,
let us get a complete list of the names of our prisoners."
These were all written down, and then the two leaders, with their
eight men-at-arms, rode towards the gates of Niort, a white flag
being raised on one of the lances.