The Huguenot: A Tale of the French Protestants. Volumes I-III

by G. P. R. James

To describe the military manœuvres which took place during the three or four following days would be neither amusing nor instructive to the reader. Suffice it to say, that the small force of the Count de Morseiul diminished as he retreated, while the army of the Chevalier d'Evran was increased by the arrival of two new regiments. The latter had thus an opportunity of extending his line, and frustrating a vigorous effort made by the Count to cut his way into Brittany. Every effort that the Protestant leader made to bring to his aid those who had promised very soon to join him, only showed him that the estimation which he had formed of the degree of vigour and unanimity to be expected from the Huguenots was but too accurate. Almost all those determined and daring leaders of the lower orders who had given energy and activity to all the movements of the insurgents had fallen in the preceding skirmishes. Herval was heard of no more; Paul Virlay had been seen by one of the soldiers to fall by a shot through the head towards the close of the last affair; and at length, with not more than five hundred men under his command, Albert of Morseiul found himself shut in between a force of eight thousand men and the sea. The only consolation that he had was to hear that Clémence de Marly was safe, and the only hope was that some vessels from Rochelle, for which he had despatched a shallop in haste, might be tempted by the large sum he offered to hasten round and carry off a certain portion of his troops, comprising the principal leaders, while the rest laid down their arms, and he himself surrendered to the fate that awaited him.

Such were his plans and purposes when the last day of the insurrection dawned upon the world; and we must pause for an instant to describe the situation of his little force on that eventful morning.

There is upon that coast a small rocky island, not so high as the celebrated Mont St. Michel, which is on the opposite side of the peninsula of Brittany, but in almost every other respect similar to that famous rock. At the time we speak of this island was fortified, and the guns of the castle commanded almost entirely the small bay in which it was situated. At low water the island becomes a peninsula, being joined to the land like the Mont St. Michel by a narrow neck of land, along the top of which there ran a paved causeway, covered entirely by the sea to the depth of five or six feet at the time of high water. The commandant of the fort was a Protestant gentleman who had distinguished himself in some degree in the service. He had been raised, and greatly favoured by the influence of the Counts of Morseiul, and owed his post to them. He had not only promised to co-operate with the young Count in the commencement of the unfortunate revolt, but he had sent him some assistance, and a large quantity of ammunition; and when the Count found that he was cut off from forcing his way into Brittany on the one hand, or reaching Sainctonge on the other, he had shaped his course past Montaigu towards the little bay in which this island was situated, and had succeeded in reaching it, notwithstanding the efforts of the royalist corps to prevent him.

Opposite to the island was a small village, on a high bank above the sea-shore. It possessed a large church, and two or three walled farm houses; and during one half of the night after his arrival, the Count toiled with the country people, who were principally Protestants, to throw up breastworks and plant pallisades, so as to fortify the village in as strong a manner as possible. Four cannon, which were all that he possessed, were planted to command the principal road leading to the village, and ere morning the whole was brought to such a condition as to enable the little band of Protestants to offer a determined and lengthened resistance, should they be driven to do so.

Was it then, it may be asked, the purpose of the Count to offer that resistance? It certainly was not; but feeling perfectly sure that the Chevalier d'Evran was disposed to grant the Protestants the most lenient terms consistent with his duty, he took these measures in order to give him the best excuse for treating with the insurgents, and granting them a favourable capitulation. "If," he thought, "the Chevalier can show to the King that it would have cost him two or three thousand of his best troops to overcome or slaughter a poor body of five hundred men, Louis is too wise and too good a soldier himself not to hold him perfectly justified for granting the mildest terms."

When all was completed, the Count cast himself down to rest, and slept for some time from utter exhaustion. By the first ray of morning, however, he was upon the shore, looking towards the sea, and beheld, to his no small joy and satisfaction, three vessels, at the distance of about four or five miles, standing off and on, as if waiting for the tide to enter the bay. The tide, however, though not quite at the ebb, had sank so low that there was no chance of their being able to come in till it had quite gone down and risen again; and Albert of Morseiul looked with anxiety for the passing of six or seven hours, which must thus elapse.

His anxiety now led him to the other side of the village, and going to one of the farm houses, situated at the corner of a small cart-road which he had barricaded, he went up to a window on the first floor, and looked over the wide view that sloped away below. There appeared, what he had expected to find, the camp of the Chevalier d'Evran, hemming him in on all sides. The distance between the village and the first tents was about two miles, so that at any time, without more than half an hour's notice, the attack upon his little fortress might commence. He was quite prepared, it is true, and doubted not to be able to maintain his post for many hours, knowing that his men would fight with the energy of despair.

But no movement whatsoever in the royalist camp indicated any great haste to attack him. There were no groups of officers busily reconnoitring; there were no regiments drawn up as if to march to the assault; and the only objects that were seen were two files of soldiers marching along to relieve the guard at different points of the camp. All this was satisfactory to an experienced eye like that of the Count de Morseiul, and well knowing his opponent, he judged that the Chevalier was waiting for some reply from Paris, ere he gave any answer to the terms which he, the Count, had suggested.

He paused, therefore, for nearly twenty minutes, gazing over the scene, when suddenly, from a point of the camp where nothing seemed stirring before, a little group of persons on horseback drew out, and rode swiftly towards the village. The moment after the Count perceived that two of those persons were clad in women's garments; and the rapidity with which they came, showed him that they were fearful of being stopped. Going down from the window in haste, he sprang upon horseback, and with the attendants who were waiting for him below, rode out upon the side of the hill, in order to assist the fugitives in case of need; but no sign of pursuit took place till one half of the distance or more had been passed by the little party; and the Count dismounting about a quarter of a mile from the village, watched their coming with eager eyes and a beating heart, as he recognised the form of Clémence de Marly. When she was beyond all risk of being overtaken, a small party of cavaliers issued forth from another part of the camp, and rode on towards the village, but slowly, and they were still at more than a miles distance when Clémence was in the arms of her lover, and weeping upon his bosom. He led her in as fast as possible, followed by the maid Maria, and no less a person than Jerome Riquet, who seemed to have found of breaking his word so strong a temptation, that he could not resist it.

A rumour had spread amongst the Protestants in the town that something of interest was proceeding without, and when the Count and Clémence turned towards the village, they found that their meeting had been witnessed by many eyes. But in the faces of those they passed, Albert of Morseiul read courage brightened, and resolution strengthened, by that which they had just seen; and there was not a man within that little encampment whose heart did not feel elevated and confirmed by witnessing the bursting forth of those tender and ennobling feelings, which ever, when pure and true, dignify man's spirit, and brighten his mind.