But five gentlemen, witnesses of the atrocities committed by Charles V., bound themselves to revenge them. Accompanied by fifteen soldiers and about thirty peasants well armed, all as devoted and intrepid as themselves, they shut themselves into the old tower. There each planted his arquebus in a loophole or a crack in the walls, resolved to shoot down the Emperor as he passed. Clouds of dust announced the approach of the hostile army. None of the devoted men knew Charles by sight, but they hoped to recognize him by the superior splendour of his armour, and the state that surrounded him. But one of the first to go by, in gorgeous panoply, was the Spaniard Garcia Luzzio, mounted on a noble courser, and accompanied by picked soldiers. Thinking that this must be the Emperor, the Provençal gentlemen poured upon the Spaniard a hail of bullets, and he fell from his horse, dead.
Such an unexpected assault staggered the soldiers of Luzzio for a moment. But they speedily rallied and rushed to the tower bravely to revenge the death of their leader. The Provençals replied by a fresh discharge, which overthrew several of the soldiers. Knowing that they must expect death, they were resolved to sell their lives dearly; and they were able to kill a number of their assailants when they came on, without order and discipline.
To sacrifice as few as possible, the officers ordered the soldiers to withdraw and await the commands of the Emperor. Charles V. came up and had cannon levelled at the tower, and the gallant defenders either perished in its ruins, or fell into the hands of the Imperialists, who hung them from the trees round about.
In time the Estérel was again clothed in forest, and then became the haunt of all the outlaws and gaol-birds who had broken loose. These were organised into a body by one Gaspard de Besse, the Robin Hood of the district. He with his band became the terror of Provence, waylaying merchants on the high roads, and retreating to various caves still shown in several places, after having plundered unfortunate travellers. When pursuit was hottest, he escaped to the Estérel. Several murders that he had committed were the occasion of a price being put on his head, and he was eventually captured and broken on the wheel at Aix in 1776. He is the hero of a charming story by Mme. Charles Reybaud, published in 1859, but now out of print and very scarce. A drama called L’Auberge des Adrets had its scene laid in the Estérel, in 1823.
In 1787 the celebrated Saussure visited the Estérel as geologist and botanist; but his enthusiasm for the semi-tropical flora he met with in his excursions was somewhat tempered by uneasiness about his safety. He says:—
“The main road is entirely exposed, and is dominated by salient rocks, on which the brigands plant their sentinels. They suffer travellers to advance to some open space between these points of vantage. Then, from their ambushes in the woods, they swoop down on them and plunder them, whilst the sentinels keep a good look-out, lest the guards should come and surprise them. In the event of any of these appearing, a whistle suffices to warn the robbers, and they dive out of sight into the forest. It is absolutely impossible to reach them. Not only is the undergrowth very dense, but it is encumbered with huge blocks of stone. There are neither by-roads nor paths; and unless one knows the intricacies of the woods as well as do the brigands themselves, no one can penetrate into them, except very slowly. The forest extends to the sea, and the whole district, entirely uncultivated, is a place of refuge for the convicts who have escaped from the galleys of Toulon, the nursery of all the robbers of the country.”
Millin, who wrote in 1807, says:—
“In general it is not possible to rely on the peasants in this region. If you ask of them your way, they will either not answer you at all or will misdirect you. Be careful that nothing is wrong with your equipages, and your harness; for no assistance is to be met with there. If they see that you are in difficulties, they laugh; if that you are in danger, they pass by on the other side of the way. Should a parched traveller venture to pluck a bunch of grapes, it is well for him if this slight indiscretion does not bring on him blows of a cudgel, a stone, or a shot from the gun of the owner. The cries of the peasants are those of the tiger, and like the tiger is their vivacity and their fury. Quarrels lead to insults, and insults are met with a blow of a stick, a stone, or the stab of a knife, often enough mortal in its effects. He who has committed such a crime thinks nothing of its consequences, save how they may affect himself. He abandons his victim, or else puts him out of the way of deposing against him. He runs away. Watching for his prey either in the ravines of Ollioules or in the depths of the forests of the Estérel, he waylays the traveller. He begins as a robber, and speedily becomes an assassin by trade. This is how the brigands are recruited who infest the roads of Provence.”
Now all that is of the past. The French Tourists’ Club has made paths and roads in all directions, and the Estérel may be traversed even more safely than Regent Street.
