The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel. Vol. II.

by Ludwig Tieck

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 assembled 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 balls among the bewildered, stupified, and discouraged mass 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 François 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 clashing 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 François was the first to cut down the beautiful Louison, whereupon an indiscriminate massacre 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 bloody, splashing brook, all like a fiery river of hell, 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 horsemen. "Are you defeated?" asked Edmond, as they assembled near him. "No," cried Bertrand, "God 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 horsemen 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 François, 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 massacred 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, wishing 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."