Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars

by G. A. Henty

For half an hour the efforts to force the barricade continued. So many had fallen that the wall was now no higher than their waist; but even this could not be surmounted, in face of the double line of pikemen; and at last the assailants fell back, baffled.

At the two posterns, they had failed to make any impression upon the carcasses that blocked their way. In vain they strove, by striking the curved points of their halberts into the carcasses, to drag them from their place; but the pressure of the weight above, and of the interior line of carcasses that were piled on the legs of the outside tiers, prevented the enemy from moving them in the slightest degree. While so engaged, those at work were exposed to the boiling water poured from above; and the soldiers standing behind, in readiness to advance when the entrance was won, were also exposed to the fire of the defenders.

The assaults on the walls, and at the windows, were far less obstinate than those in the previous attack, as they were intended only as diversions to the main assaults on the posterns and gate; and when the assailants at these points fell back, the storming parties also retreated. They had lost, in all, nearly four hundred men in the second attack; of whom more than a hundred and fifty had fallen in the assault upon the barricade.

The instant they retreated, Francois and Philip led out their men, cleared the earth from the planks, and threw these into the water. They were not a moment too soon for, just as they completed their task, the Catholic cavalry thundered down to the edge of the moat; regardless of the fire from the walls, which emptied many saddles. Finding themselves unable to cross, they turned and galloped off after the infantry.

"We were just in time, Philip," Francois said. "If they had crossed the moat it would have gone hard with us; for, with that bank of bodies lying against the breastwork, they might have been able to leap it. At any rate, their long lances would have driven us back, and some would have dismounted and climbed over.

"As it is, I think we have done with them. After two such repulses as they have had, and losing pretty nearly half their infantry, they will never get the men to try another attack."

An hour later, indeed, the whole Catholic force, horse and foot, were seen to march away by the road along which they had come. As soon as they did so, a trumpet summoned the defenders from the walls and house. The women and children also poured out into the courtyard and, the minister taking his place by the side of the countess on the steps of the chateau, a solemn service of thanksgiving to God, for their preservation from the danger that had threatened them, was held.

It was now five o'clock, and the short winter day was nearly over. Many of the tenants would have started off to their farms, but Francois begged them to remain until next morning.

"The smoke told you what to expect," he said. "You will find nothing but the ruins of your houses and, in this weather, it would be madness to take your wives and families out. In the morning you can go and view your homes. If there are still any sheds standing, that you can turn into houses for the time, you can come back for your wives and families. If not, they must remain here till you can get up shelter for them. In this bitter cold weather, you could not think of rebuilding your houses regularly; nor would it be any use to do so, until we get to the end of these troubles. But you can fell and saw wood, and erect cottages that will suffice for present use, and serve as sheds when better times return.

"The first thing to do is to attend to those who have fallen. The dead must be removed and buried; but there must be many wounded, and these must be brought in and attended to. There is an empty granary that we will convert into a hospital."