The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel Volume Ii Part 7

The musician made a wry face and would have answered angrily, when Eveline uttered a loud joyous "Ah!" an old peasant pa.s.sed by, followed by a large dog. The Lord of Beauvais had risen, Eveline blushed, and at a sign from her father remained behind. The old peasant cast a searching glance into the bower, but the Counsellor looked a negative, without those present being able to observe it, and the peasant proceeded on his way without forming an acquaintance with the company.

But not so the great dog, that no sooner had he snuffed the air, than he instantly leaped over the palings of the garden, and howling and whining with joy, jumped in a hundred playful gambols round the Counsellor and his daughter, and then lay down, placed his two paws on their persons and recommenced his frolics anew. It was in vain that Eveline cried out, "Away, away! what does this nasty strange dog want here?" she wished to pretend to be angry, but the absurd antics of the well-known Hector, forced her to burst into a loud laugh.

"Peter Florval," said Dubois, "you must be known to the dog."

"Not that I know of," replied the Counsellor, somewhat embarra.s.sed; "he must have come from some farm in my former neighbourhood."

"It may be so," answered the musician, "but the peasant though ought to have come in here; what frightened him away from us? surely we are not such great folks."

Hector, that now heard old Frantz whistle from a distance, stood irresolute on the alert, looked inquiringly at the Counsellor, and then seemed to wait for Frantz, and danced round Eveline again; at length, however, a second loud whistle called him away. The Counsellor said, "I must go and see whether the old man is known to me, come with me daughter." They both, left the garden. "One easily becomes over cautious," observed he, after having heartily welcomed his faithful servant; "Had you only known for what we pa.s.s here, it had been better to have come in at once. But you have not yet spoken with Mr. Vila?" "It has been impossible for me to visit him yet," said Frantz, "for my journey detained me too long: an accident brings me to this village, where, indeed, I did not suppose you to be, the royalists, who in large bands keep the mountains in a state of siege, obliged me to turn away from the high road. But now, my dear master, no one can pa.s.s over the frontiers, the watches and precautions have been redoubled; every one in the country is already suspected, how much more so should he desire to quit it, even the pa.s.sports from government are no longer respected."

It was agreed upon, that Franz should go to St. Hippolite to Vila, and return after some time with news, but never, as had been determined at an earlier period between the friends, to bring letter, or papers. When the Counsellor returned to his dwelling with his child, the latter said, "I should never in my life have thought Hector so stupid; he did not pay the slightest attention, I might have made signs to him as long as I liked, and yet he can hunt and perform other feats of skill, which I should never have been able to learn; but whenever indeed I have wished to tell him about the slightest fun, or when my brother was gone out and that he would soon return, he has never understood me. If it is only not the case with us human beings also. Perhaps we run thus along just like little dogs by the side of angels, who insinuate much to us, yet whose language and real meaning we can never comprehend."

"At least," said the father, "man should not dive too deeply into that, nor with daring enthusiasm desire to confine to himself that which is denied him by his Creator. But you cannot, however, understand that yet, my little girl."

"It must be glorious," answered the little one, "to understand all the thoughts which are permitted to us by G.o.d. All that he does grant to us by degrees, if we are pious and kind! What I have always with delight seen you do, when for whole hours you used to sit at your great books, of which I did not understand a single word, and you so often lifted up your eyes joyfully, and continued to reflect; you cannot think how well it looks, and what a beautiful sight it is to behold a sensible man engaged in deep meditation."

They had returned to their friendly home, and Martin with the others were waiting for them. "It is really abominable," began dame Barbara, "that the Camelsarts have become so impious, that this year no processions can go to the village, which lies only six leagues from hence. One may pa.s.s over the mountain in three hours, and I have never before spent a year in the neglect of edifying things."

"There is no church festival then now a-days?" enquired Dubois. "Well no wonder; nay, even the great annual markets have been abolished."

"The turkish great sultan and the heathenish Marrelburgh must have negociated an alliance with the rebels, that we completely fall into miserere, for one cannot know what the political conjunctive may produce to us in this year: All indicatives, said our pastor only yesterday, promise no particular property, and we may indeed be stuck fast in the mud by the new year."

"Pray, spare us Gossip," said Dubois smiling, "the learned words, in which indeed you have ever contrary wind, and you do not rightly understand the tacking about (Laviren)."

"By, expressing myself thus," rejoined Barbara impatiently, "do I then in any way squander your capital interest? I merely add thereto my own, and whenever I may require mesicaments, there stands my old man, and you need not offer me any strange Laxirung.

"Such phrases and notions are indeed not at all proper. What must my honoured cousin think? he certainly imagines we live quite freely with each other as if we had been married together. It remains a constant truth, that whoever has been once a virtoso, can never again become a simple-minded man, he is for ever lost to pomology, kindheartedness, or hormanity."

"Do not become warm about it gossip," said the musician, "I have never dreamed of offending you."

"No more," said she angrily, "to me of dreams and dreampeter stories; for they are just as unsufferable to me as your sonneteering on my table there. It too has not once dreamed, that in its old age it would serve as a finger board.--

"Peace," said G.o.dfred, "you do not understand all that, Barbara, for the people over there are a.s.sembling: What is the matter then. Let our gossip play the harpsichord, he uses his own fingers for it and not yours, but something new must have occurred, I should like to hear, we must question our neighbours."

Thus throwing unconsciously the different conversations together, because he was curious, and yet he also wished to answer, he now demanded of one that was running by, why the neighbourhood seemed thus in an uproar. Now smart firing was heard close by. "There must be great confusion on all sides in the valley," said a country woman.

All quitted the garden, and the firing of small guns was distinctly heard as it was borne on the air.

"Ugh!" sighed Dubois, who could now climb the mountain. "One must hear it much more distinctly up there."

"I like not," said G.o.dfred, "to have any thing to do with war and war cries. The unfortunate, beautiful, peaceful villages, until now we have heard nothing of it, except once at the very beginning, now again we receive the evil visit."

"There yonder," thought the woman, "they have the miracle-working statue of the Mother of G.o.d, that will protect them all, the rebels cannot effect any thing in opposition to that: Fire and sword, b.a.l.l.s and blows cannot prevail against the heavenly miracle."

Detached light cavalry scoured the village. They enquired the way and desired to rejoin their companions from whom they had been cut off on the mountains.

The trumpeter approached the officer with a face of importance, while he pointed out to him a mountain road, upon which the horses, in a case of necessity, could make their way through. "I have myself had the honour to serve in the royal guards;" added he proudly. "As what?"

asked the young officer. "It was granted to me," said the former, "to be first trumpeter of the regiment. How goes it, sir captain, with the rebels?" "Grant to me, trumpeter," answered the leader, "to owe you the answer until we meet again. The knaves are possessed by the devil, and it faires badly with us. If you could blow them away, we would then take you with us."

Thereupon they all galloped away, whilst the whole body raised a burst of laughter. "Service is no longer as it was formerly," observed Dubois, "the old, genuine soldier-like gallantry must give place to new fas.h.i.+oned boasting, and venerable age and experience are of no value among the raw striplings."

CHAPTER X.

In the mean while the calamity in which Edmond took a leading part and too late repented, now burst forth. Cavalier, who this time conducted every movement of the troops, had so prudently contrived his plans; valour, and fortune were so favorable to him in their execution, and at his command on all sides, that the enemy, who thought to have hemmed him in, saw themselves surrounded. The royalists were forced to give way, and were decoyed and driven into the narrow valleys, where they could not employ their strength, the cavalry was cut off, and on whatever side the soldiers turned, they met with their adversaries, who fought from the advantageously situated heights.

In the morning, conformably to the arrangement made, the village procession was put in motion at the festive sound of bells. The church was beautifully decorated with garlands and flowers; the clerk began to play the organ, and old and young a.s.sembled on the common dressed in their holiday clothes, in order to join the young girls and follow the procession into the church. The aged priest was standing already before the altar, awaiting the congregation, when suddenly a panic seized and rendered them motionless, for a loud and reiterated firing was distinctly heard close at hand. "Jesus, Maria!" exclaimed the girls, and the chains of flowers fell from their arms, the young men spoke of weapons and defence, and the old looked at one another in alarm. The firing approached nearer, and the priest and clerk had already quitted the church. All was in fearful and anxious expectation. Psalm singing was now heard from over the steep mountain. "They are the Camisards!"

shrieked all aloud and in terror; at the same moment a regiment in reserve rushed from the left into the valley. The Camisards moved from above precipitatedly, and jumped and slid down the vineyards, while they hurled stones and b.a.l.l.s among the bewildered, stupified, and discouraged ma.s.s of soldiers. In vain the officers inspirited them, some fell with their horses, others sought to retreat towards the outlet of the valley on the right. The procession and the clergy, as well as the congregation were mingled with the combatants, before they were yet able to recover their senses. A few only succeeded in flying to their houses.

"They are beaten!" cried Catinat furiously, who mounted on a great black horse and roared, "After them! destroy them in the name of the Lord! and throw fire and sword into these cottages and idolatrous temples!" Ravanel rode on a small horse at his side and was already stained with blood, for he was ever foremost in the slaughter. Favart, Stephen, Anton, and the diminutive Francois had nimbly clambered down the mountain. Houses were already seen burning in the distance, the cry of murder from the inhabitants mingled with the rejoicing shouts of the victors and the clas.h.i.+ng of arms. Stephen now attempted to take the crucifix, which the youthful Caspar, as leader of the procession carried, but the latter struck him so forcibly on the head with it, that his fair locks were smeared with blood, and the youth without drawing another breath, fell to the ground. When Anton, the shoemaker saw this, he fell furiously upon Caspar: "Tear the cruel idolaters to pieces!" screamed he, and struck Caspar with his short sword, who was on the point of using his weapons on the neck, so that in a moment he was red with a stream of blood. Louison, who saw that her beloved was lost, uttered a piercing shriek of woe, tore the short, stumpy Anton by the hair to the ground, and battered his brains out with the bar of the crucifix, which Caliper had now let fall. A murderous shout of bloodthirstiness rang fearfully through the troops of exasperated rebels, and Francois was the first to cut down the beautiful Louison, whereupon an indiscriminate ma.s.sacre raged in every cottage, in every street, upon every little bridge, and in the already burning church, so that the gurgling brook soon rolled in blood-red waves.

In the meanwhile Edmond stood gloomy and despairingly above on the steep rock, and saw now distinctly, now obscured by the smoke the streets and houses of the village beneath him. The smoke now rolled away, the royalists had all fled, a short cry and wailing, the inhabitants were all slain, cottages burned right and left, the fire shone through all the trees, and now the flames arose in the church and the peaceful dwelling under his feet, which had hospitably sheltered him that very night, already rolled in columns of smoke, the fire shortly raised the roof, and below was a universal glow of destruction and death, reflected in the b.l.o.o.d.y, splas.h.i.+ng brook, all like a fiery river of h.e.l.l, where yesterday an Eden had bloomed. The green trees defended themselves from the fiery streams, but they were compelled to bend and yield to its force. The glowing waves burst up to the heavens over the church tower, and as a child, unconsciously smiling, plays even in death, the clock struck the hour once more, and for the last time, and then fell with the tower and the beams of the roof with a loud crash into the abyss of fire and smoke.

Edmond sat down indifferent to all, and incapable of further thought.

After a while he saw a troop of his brethren ascending the heights by different routes. Bertrand appeared soon afterwards on another road mounted with several hors.e.m.e.n. "Are you defeated?" asked Edmond, as they a.s.sembled near him. "No," cried Bertrand, "G.o.d has given us compete victory, the valleys are strewed with the bodies of the royalists; Cavalier has advanced yonder against the fugitives; Roland has now probably beaten another column, and Solomon their third division. But, as Cavalier knows, that several hors.e.m.e.n have fled, he fears they might make a circuit and fall upon him in the rear, we must therefore still occupy these heights."

Edmond had not the courage to ask what had taken place in the village below, but Bertrand began of his own accord. "Now, for once, the hard hearts have been compelled to taste our vengeance, we have at length washed our hands in their blood. They will fear us, brother; the trembling of those that have escaped to-day will teach the others to tremble too. Like destroying angels, Ravanel and Catinat cut their way through them, where these stand, not one of the enemy expects mercy. I have now though been enabled to celebrate a great festival, such a jubilee as I have ever wished for. But many of our brethren, and our best lie there below. The despairing peasants have armed themselves almost in greater numbers than the soldiers. Ah! poor Francois, the child has been torn by the beasts, Anton, and the flute player, Stephen, have had their beads smashed, one of the villains threw my brother, when the poor fellow was already wounded, into the fire, even the wretched clerk was ma.s.sacred by our Everard, whereupon I pitched the rogue head over heels directly into a deep well."

"And the aged priest?" asked Edmond, scarcely audible,

"Him," said one of the troop, "I saw for a long while standing with his prayer-book in the midst of the tumult on the common; right and left men and women were slain by his side, so that I thought, now, now this one or that must strike him. But it was as if they did not see him at all. I afterwards lost sight of him; surely he must be lying there among the dead bodies. Do you know anything of him, brother Christophe?"

A wild looking man, spotted with blood, diminutive and black, his whole face almost overgrown with bristly hair, said grinning: "The old grey-headed knave is certainly a sorcerer, for when I had already killed several of the idolaters, and that he still continued to stand quietly there, and I was vexed that none of my comrades had ever aimed at him, in my fury I advanced to hew him down; already I raised my arm, then the spectre looked quite quietly at me, and his old thin lips smiled at it, almost as if he would have wept, but I tell you, from his large blue eyes such a spell shot through my eyes into my heart, that terrified I let foil my arm and was unable to do any thing to the rascal. A long time after, wis.h.i.+ng to rest myself a little, I perceived him still in his black garments like a dark cloud between the combatants, wandering through flame and smoke and over the slain, perfectly collected and as if no one could do him harm. I think he is gone into the burning church and will probably be burned there."

Edmond awoke from his dreams to life again at this fearful recital.

"Thus, does the guest requite," said he to himself, "the hopeful son of the friend, of thy youth. Is not that called love for love? Now I am no longer indebted to thee for thy hospitable reception."

"Hollo! hollo!" shouted Christophe wildly. "Our brethren yonder are bringing the sacrificing priest of Baal. So much the better, he shall be slain here before the eyes of the all seeing G.o.d."

Edmond cast a withering glance on the wretch, then looked down and recognised already close beneath him the pastor bound, whom Favart, the swarthy Eustace and other Camisards were dragging up. "Here we bring the knave dear brethren," exclaimed Favart, just as they gained a firm footing on the level rock, and dragged up the old man with cords.

When the exhausted priest was drawn up, he cast such a look of la.s.situde, pity, and resignation to the will of heaven on the youth, that the hair of the latter stood on end with terror. "G.o.d greet you with your booty!" roared he to Favart and Eustace, "but woe to him among you, who approaches the old man even by a look, for such a one will I tear with my teeth." Favart and Eustace stepped back, turning pale, and Edmond loosened himself the cords of the venerable man, then pressed him in his arms, laid his grey head upon his throbbing breast, and a convulsive sobbing prevented all utterance and restrained his tears. "Why," said the aged man, "should I alone remain of all the rest? the poor shepherd, whose flock they have slaughtered?" "What is that?" vociferated Christophe, stammering with rage; "will they rob us of our property that we have purchased with our blood? we have left gold and silver to be consumed in the burning churches, but the life of the idolater is our booty. And who will take it from us? A coward, who without drawing a sword, here safe in the distance, has contemplated our life endangering labour. Away with that! Apostates are we ourselves if we bear the like from an idolater, who has not yet abandoned his former wickedness."

He would have rushed upon the holy man but Edmond intercepted him with the swiftness of lightning, and threw him with such giant strength upon the rock that all his limbs rattled, and he remained lying apparently senseless. Old Favart beheld this with anger, and Eustace, the charcoal-burner, became wrathful. Bertrand stepped wildly forward, and a group of clamorous Camisards pressed round Edmond and the priest.

"Who art thou?" exclaimed Favart, "that thou darest play the master here? Wilt thou act the n.o.bleman here?"--He seized the priest, and Eustace also laid a hand upon him. Though as Edmond stepped up to them, Eustace, from old accustomed obedience, let go his hold, and Favart was torn back by the powerful youth. "Lord, Edmond, Beauvais!" cried the man, "our king!" They struggled with each other, and Edmond hurled him down the mountain. "Our brother's neck is broken!" cried they all wildly together, and rushed upon Edmond with drawn weapons, who in this moment had been lost, if Abraham Mazel with a fresh troop had not arrived: Clary, Castanet, Marion, and Vila were among these. Through respect for Mazel they were quiet, and Edmond was enabled to lay the affair before the friends. "We would not be cruel towards the defenceless," said Mazel. Clary remembered Roland's express command to spare the priest; the eloquent Marion exhorted and persuaded the grumblers, and it was determined that the priest, while the guides should clothe themselves in the uniforms of the slaughtered, should be conducted to Florac, that he might there claim the protection of his superior. Edmond offered to take this service upon himself, and Eustace and several of the brethren would accompany him on this expedition.

Conversation and dispute were interrupted, while this scattered and cut off band advanced, whose union with the defeated soldiers Cavalier wished to prevent. The few cavalry went to meet them, the infantry placed themselves in order, and a sanguinary combat began anew on the height. Mazel led them on, and the bravery of the rebels made the military, who were already discouraged, give way. Edmond and his followers were with the young captain and his light horse, who were exposed at a distance in an obstinate combat. The horse of the young man was already killed, but he fought intrepidly and indefatigably, however little he could promise him>self a fortunate issue. Edmond advanced, and cried out, "Surrender young man; you behave gallantly, it would grieve me were you killed here uselessly. I promise you protection and good treatment until you are exchanged for some of ours taken prisoners."

"Miserable rebel!" exclaimed the captain, "dost thou think, that I would receive pardon from such a villain as thou? I know thee, Beauvais, perjurer, apostate; the executioner at Nismes awaits thee already.

Look down into that valley, incendiary, and still speak of good treatment!"---He looked searchingly at the youth, glanced down on his sword and fired his pistol at Edmond, it missed, and Edmond at the same moment shot a ball through his breast, so that he fell dead. The remainder were killed in the melee, the sergeant, who was still mounted fled precipitately from the height down the rock, Mazel and his followers were already far distant pursuing the enemy.

Edmond descended with those who would accompany him. In a vineyard they enjoyed the repose and frugal fare which could be quickly prepared for them. The old man was revived by a few drops of wine. "Beauvais, art thou my son?" began he, as he saw himself alone with Edmond.--"I am called," said the latter, "after your baptismal name, Edmond; as a testimony how my father has ever loved you."

"Ah, thou dear friend of my youth," said the old man with a deep sigh, "why must I become acquainted with thy son under such circ.u.mstances? In this way then have the dreams of thy love, our religious inspirations been embodied? Thus are our fanatic presentiments fulfilled? To these murders and burnings, to these horrible cruelties must we awaken and call our whole youth folly and illusion? Ah! verily poor Louison, thy love to thy protectress has been badly recompensed. You were right unfortunate Caspar, that you did not know in what moment and in what sufferings your happiness would terminate. Now you lie together in a b.l.o.o.d.y embrace. Why cannot I say to myself, no, this is but a dream!

Awake thou miserable old man, and find thy commune, thy children, the former tranquil repose, the sweet peace, and thy beloved church again!

Woe! woe! to ye, ye poor, ye innocent! and threefold woe upon the wretches who brought this horror into these distant valleys."--He covered his head, and wept bitterly.