CHAPTER XXXII. THE CHATEAU d'ANCRE.
Before I had time to collect myself, I was hurried on by De Beauvaisinto a room, when the moment I had entered the door was closed andlocked behind me. By the light of a coarse and rudely formed chandelierthat occupied the middle of a table, I saw a party of near a dozenpersons who sat around it,--the head of the board being filled by onewhose singular appearance attracted all my attention. He was a man ofenormous breadth of chest and shoulders, with a lofty massive head, oneither side of which a quantity of red hair fell in profusion; abeard of the same color descended far on his bosom, which, with hisoverhanging eyebrows, imparted a most savage and ferocious expression tofeatures which of themselves were harsh and repulsive. Though he worea blouse in peasant fashion, it was easy to see that he was not of thelower walk of society. Across his brawny chest a broad belt of blackleather passed, to support a strong straight sword, the heavy hilt ofwhich peeped above the arm of his chair. A pair of handsomely-mountedpistols lay before him on the table; and the carved handle of a poniardcould be seen projecting slightly from the breast-pocket of his vest.Of the rest who were about him I had but time to perceive that they werepeasants; but all were armed, and most of them wearing a knot of whiteribbon at the breast of their blouses.
Every eye was turned towards me, as I stood at the foot of the tableastonished and speechless--while De Beauvais, quitting my arm, hastenedto the large man's side, and whispered some words in his ear. He roseslowly from his chair, and in a moment each face was turned to him.Speaking in a deep guttural tone, he addressed them for some minutes ina patois of which I was totally ignorant; every word he uttered seemedto stir their very hearts, if I were to judge from the short and heavyrespiration, the deep-drawn breath, the flushed faces and staring eyesaround me. More than once some allusion seemed made to me,--at least,they turned simultaneously to look at me; once, too, at something hesaid, each man carried his hand round to his sword-hilt, but droppedit again listlessly as he continued. The discourse over, the door wasunlocked, and one by one they left the room, each man saluting thespeaker with a reverence as he passed out. De Beauvais closed the doorand barred it as the last man disappeared, and turning hastily round,called out,--
"What now?"
The large man bent his head down between his hands, and spoke not inreply; then suddenly springing up, he said,--
"Take my horse--he is fresh and ready for the road--and make forQuilleboeuf; the ford at Montgorge will be swollen, but he 'll take thestream for you. At the farmer's house that looks over the river you canstop."
"I know it, I know it," said De Beauvais. "But what of you, are you toremain behind?"
"I 'll go with him," said he, pointing towards me. "As his companion,I can reach the Bois de Boulogne; in any case, as his prisoner. Oncethere, you may trust me for the rest."
De Beauvais looked at me for a reply. I hesitated what to say, and atlast said,--
"For your sake, Henri de Beauvais, and yours only, have I ventured on astep which may, in all likelihood, be my ruin. I neither know, nor wishto know, your plans; nor will I associate myself with any one, be he whohe may, in your enterprise."
"Jacques Tisserand, the tanner," continued the large man, as if notheeding nor caring for my interruption, "will warn Armand de Polignacof what has happened; and Charles de la Riviere had better remain nearDeauville for the English cutter,--she 'll lie off the coast to-morrow ornext day. Away! lose not a moment."
"And my dear friend here," said De Beauvais, turning to me, "who hasrisked his very life to rescue me, shall I leave him thus?"
"Can you save him by remaining?" said the other, as he coolly examinedthe priming of his pistols. "We shall all escape, if you be but quick."
A look from De Beauvais drew me towards him, when he threw his armsaround my neck, and in a low, broken voice, muttered, "When I tell youthat all I lived for exists to me no longer,--the love I sought refusedme, my dearest ambition thwarted,--you will not think that a selfishdesire for life prompts me now; but a solemn oath to obey the slightestcommand of that man,--sworn before my sovereign,--binds me, and I mustnot break it."
"Away, away! I hear voices at the gate below," cried the other.
"Adieu! adieu forever," said De Beauvais, as he kissed my cheek, andsprang through a small doorway in the wainscot which closed after him ashe went.
"Now for our movements," said the large man, unhooking a cloak that hungagainst the wall. "You must tie my hands with this cord in such a waythat, although seemingly secure, I can free myself at a moment; place meon a horse, a fast one too, beside you; and order your troopers to ridein front and rear of us. When we reach the Bois de Boulogne, leave theAvenue des Chasseurs and turn towards St. Cloud. _Tonnerre de del_,they're firing yonder!" An irregular discharge of small arms, followedby a wild cheer, rang out above the sound of the storm. "Again! didyou hear that? there are the carbines of cavalry; I know their ring.Accursed dogs, that would not do my bidding!" cried he, stamping withpassion on the ground, while, throwing off his blouse, he stuck hispistols in a belt around his waist, and prepared for mortal combat.
Meanwhile pistol-shots, mingled with savage shouts and wild hurrahs,were heard approaching nearer and nearer; and at length a loud knockingat the front door, with a cry of "They 're here! they 're here!"
The large man, now fully armed, and with his drawn sword in his hand,unlocked the door. The passage without was full of armed peasants,silent and watchful for his commands. A few words in the former patoisseemed sufficient to convey them, and their answer was a cheer that madethe walls ring.
The chief moved rapidly from place to place through the crowds, who athis bidding broke into parties: some of them occupied doorways whichenfiladed the hall; others knelt down to suffer some to fire above theirheads; here were two posted, armed with hatchets, at the very entranceitself; and six of the most determined-looking were to dispute thepassage with their muskets. Such was the disposition of the force, whensuddenly the light was extinguished, and all left in utter darkness.The deep breathing of their anxious breasts alone marked their presence;when without doors the sounds of strife gradually died away, and thestorm alone was heard.
As for me, I leaned against a doorway, my arms folded on my bosom, myhead sunk, while I prayed for death, the only exit I could see to mydishonor.
There was a terrible pause,--the very hurricane seemed to abateits violence, and only the heavy rain was heard as it fell intorrents,--when, with a loud crash, the door in front was burst open,and fell with a bang upon the floor. Not a word from those within, nota motion, betrayed their presence; while the whispered tones of a partywithout showed that the enemy was there.
"Bring up the torches quickly here," called out a voice like that of anofficer; and as he spoke the red flare of lighted pine branches was seenmoving through the misty atmosphere.
The light fell upon a strong party of dismounted dragoons and_gendarmerie_, who, carbine in hand, stood waiting for the word to dashforward. The officer, whose figure I could distinguish as he moved alongthe front of his men, appeared to hesitate, and for a few seconds allstood motionless. At length, as if having resolved on his plan, heapproached the doorway, a pine torch in his hand; another step, and thelight must have disclosed the dense array of armed peasants that stoodand knelt around the hall, when a deep low voice within uttered the oneword, "Now!--and quick," as if by his breath the powder had been ignited,a volley rang out, pattering like hail on the steel breastplates andthrough the branches of the trees. A mingled shout of rage and agonyrose from those without, and without waiting for a command, they rushedonward.
The peasants, who had not time to reload their pieces, clubbed them intheir strong hands, and laid wildly about them. The fight was now handto hand; for, narrow as was the doorway, some three or four dragoonspressed every moment in, and gradually the hall became a dense mass ofindiscriminate combatants. The large man fought like one possessed, andcleft his way towards the entrance with a long straight dagger, as ifr
egardless of friends or foes. "A moi! a moi!" cried a tall and powerfulman, as he sprang at his throat; "this is he!" The words were his last,as, stabbed to the very heart, he sprang backward in his death-agony;but at the moment a perfect shower of bullets rattled around the largeman, one of which alone took effect in his shoulder. Still he stroveonwards, and at last, with a spring like a savage tiger, he lowered hishead, and bounded clean out into the court. Scarcely, however, had hisfoot touched the wet grass, when he slipped forward, and fell heavilyon his back. A dozen swords flashed above him as he lay, and only bythe most immense efforts of the officer was he spared death in a hundredwounds.
Capture of the "Red-Beard" 334]
The defeat of their leader seemed to subdue all the daring courage ofhis party; the few who were able to escape dashed hither and thither,through passages and doorways they were well acquainted with; while theflagged floor was bathed in blood from the rest, as they lay in mangledand frightful forms, dead and dying on every side.
Like one in some dreadful dream, I stood spectator of this savagestrife, wishing that some stray bullet had found my heart, yet ashamedto die with such a stain upon my honor. I crossed my arms before mybreast, and waited for my doom. Two gendarmes passed quickly to andfro with torches, examining the faces and looks of those who were stilllikely to live, when suddenly one of them cried out, as he stood beforeme,--
"What 's this? An officer of hussars here!"
The exclamation brought an officer to the spot, who, holding a lanternto my face, said quickly,--"How is this, sir? how came you here?"
"Here is my sword, sir," said I, drawing it from the scabbard; "I placemyself under arrest. In another place, and to other judges, I mustexplain my conduct."
"_Parbleu!_ Jacques," said the officer, addressing another who sat, whilehis wounds were being bound up, on a chair near, "this affair is worsethan we thought of. Here 's one of the huitieme in the thick of it."
"I hope, sir," said I, addressing the young man, whose arm was bleedingprofusely from a sabre wound,--"I hope, sir, your wound may not be ofconsequence."
He looked up suddenly, and while a smile of the most insulting sarcasmcurled his bloodless lip, answered,--
"I thank you, sir, for your sympathy; but you must forgive me, if one ofthese days I cannot bandy consolations with you."
"You are right, Lieutenant," said a dragoon, who lay bleeding from adreadful cut in the forehead; "I'd not exchange places with him myselfthis minute for all his epaulettes."
With an overwhelming sense of my own degraded position, when to suchtaunts as these I dared not reply, I stood mute and confounded.
Meantime the soldiers were engaged in collecting together the scatteredweapons, fastening the wrists of the prisoners with cords, andransacking the house for such proofs of the conspiracy as mightcriminate others at a distance. By the time these operations wereconcluded, the day began to break, and I could distinguish in thecourtyard several large covered carts or charrettes destined to conveythe prisoners. One of these was given up entirely to the chief, who,although only slightly wounded, would never assist himself in the least,but lay a heavy, inert mass, suffering the others to lift him and placehim in the cart. Such as were too badly wounded to be moved were placedin a room in the chateau, a guard being left over them.
A sergeant of the _gendarmerie_ now approached me as I stood, andcommenced, without a word, to examine me for any papers or documentsthat might be concealed about my person.
"You are in error," said I, quietly. "I have nothing of what yoususpect."
"Do you call this nothing?" interrupted he, triumphantly, as he drewforth the parchment commission I had placed in my bosom, and forgot torestore to De Beauvais. "_Parbleu!_ you'd have had a better memory hadyour plans succeeded."
"Give it here," said an officer, as he saw the sergeant devouring thedocument with his eyes. "Ah!" cried he, starting, "he was playing a highstake, too. Let him be closely secured."
While the orders of the officer were being followed up, the variousprisoners were secured in the carts, mounted dragoons stationed ateither side, their carbines held unslung in their hands. At last my turncame, and I was ordered to mount into a _charrette_ with two gendarmes,whose orders respecting any effort at escape on my part were prettyclearly indicated by the position of two pistols carried at either sideof me.
A day of heavy, unremitting rain, without any wind or storm, succeededto the night of tempest. Dark inky clouds lay motionless near the earth,whose surface became blacker by the shadow. A weighty and loweringatmosphere added to the gloom I felt, and neither in my heart within norin the world without could I find one solitary consolation.
At first I dreaded lest my companions should address me,--a singlequestion would have wrung my very soul; but happily they maintained arigid silence, nor did they even speak to each other during theentire journey. At noon we halted at a small roadside cabaret, whererefreshments were provided, and relays of horses in waiting, and againset out on our way. The day was declining when we reached the Bois deBoulogne, and entered the long avenue that leads to the Barriere del'Etoile. The heavy wheels moved noiselessly over the even turf, and,save the jingle of the troopers' equipments, all was hushed. For abovean hour we had proceeded thus, when a loud shout in front, followed by apistol-shot, and then three or four others quickly after it, halted theparty; and I could mark through the uncertain light the mounted figuresdashing wildly here and there, and plunging into the thickest of thewood.
"Look to the prisoners," cried an officer, as he galloped down the line;and, at the word, every man seized his carbine, and held himself on thealert.
Meanwhile the whole cavalcade was halted, and I could see that somethingof consequence had occurred in front, though of what nature I couldnot even guess. At last a sergeant of the gendarmes rode up to our sidesplashed and heated.
"Has he escaped?" cried one of the men beside me.
"Yes!" said he, with an oath, "the brigand has got away; though howhe cut the cords on his wrists, or by what means he sprang from thecharrette to the road, the devil must answer. Ha! there they are firingaway after him. The only use of their powder is to show the fellow wherethey are."
"I would not change places with our captain this evening," cried one ofthe gendarmerie. "Returning to Paris without the red beard--"
"_Ma foi_, you're not wrong there. It will be a heavy reckoning for himwith dark Savary; and as to taking a Breton in a wood--"
The word to march interrupted the colloquy, and again we moved forward.
By some strange sympathy I cannot account for, I felt glad that thechief had made his escape. The gallantry of his defence, the implicitobedience yielded him by the others, had succeeded in establishing aninterest for him in my mind; and the very last act of daring courageby which he effected his liberty increased the feeling. By what aneasy transition, too, do we come to feel for those whose fate has anysimilarity with our own! The very circumstance of common misfortune is abinding link; and thus I was not without an anxious hope that the chiefmight succeed in his escape, though, had I known his intrigue or hisintentions, such interest had scarcely found a place in my heart.
Such reflections as these led me to think how great must be the charm tothe human mind of overcoming difficulty or confronting danger, when evenfor those of whom we know nothing we can feel, and feel warmly, whenthey stand before us in such a light as this. Heroism and bravery appealto every nature; and bad must be the cause in which they are exerted,before we can venture to think ill of those who possess them.
The lamps were beginning to be lighted as we reached the Barriere, andhalted to permit the officer of the party to make his report of whowe were. The formality soon finished, we defiled along the Boulevard,followed by a crowd, that, increasing each moment, at last occupiedthe entire road, and made our progress slow and difficult. While thecuriosity of the people to catch sight of the prisoners demanded allthe vigilance of the guards to prevent it, a sad and most appallingstillness pervaded
the whole multitude, and I could hear a murmur asthey went that it was Generals Moreau and Pichegru who were taken.
At length we halted, and I could see that the foremost charrette wasentering a low archway, over which a massive portcullis hung. The gloomyshadow of a dark, vast mass, that rose against the inky sky, loweredabove the wall, and somehow seemed to me as if well known.
"This is the Temple?" said I to the gendarme on my right.
A nod was the reply, and a half-expressive look that seemed to say, "Inthat word you have said your destiny."
About two years previous to the time I now speak of, I remember oneevening, when returning from a solitary walk along the Boulevard,stopping in front of a tall and weather-beaten tower, the walls blackwith age, and pierced here and there with narrow windows, across whichstrong iron stanchions ran transversely. A gloomy fosse, crossed by anarrow drawbridge, surrounded the external wall of this dreary building,which needed no superstition to invest it with a character of crimeand misfortune. This was the Temple,--the ancient castle of the knightswhose cruelties were written in the dark obbliettes and the noisomedungeons of that dread abode. A terrace ran along the tower on threesides. There, for hours long, walked in sadness and in sorrow the lastof France's kings,--Louis the Sixteenth,--his children at his side. Inthat dark turret the Dauphin suffered death. At the low casement yonder,Madame Royale sat hour by hour, the stone on which she leaned wetwith her tears. The place was one of gloomy and sinister repute: theneighborhood spoke of the heavy roll of carriages that passed thedrawbridge at the dead of night; of strange sounds and cries, of secretexecutions, and even of tortures that were inflicted there. Of thesedreadful missions a corps called the "Gendarmes d'Elite" were vulgarlysupposed the chosen executors, and their savage looks and repulsiveexterior gave credibility to the surmise; while some affirmed that theMameluke guard the Consul had brought with him from Egypt had no otherfunction than the murder of the prisoners confined there.
Little thought I then that in a few brief months I should pass beneaththat black portcullis a prisoner. Little did I anticipate, as I wendedmy homeward way, my heart heavy and my step slow, that the day was tocome when in my own person I was to feel the sorrows over which I thenwept for others.
Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume I Page 35