by G. A. Henty
“Philip will, of course, ride with you.”
“Shall we ring the alarm bell, mother?”
“No; it is better not to disturb the tenantry, unless on very grave occasion. Take the fifty men-at-arms, your own men, and Philip’s. Sixty will be ample for dispersing disorderly mobs; while a hundred would be of no use to you, against the armed forces of the town and the garrison of two hundred men.”
In a quarter of an hour, the troop started. All knew the errand on which they were bent, and the journey was performed at the highest speed of which the horses were capable.
“They can have a good, long rest when they get there,” Francois said to Philip; “and half an hour, earlier or later, may mean the saving or losing of fifty lives. The mob will have been feasting, and exulting over the slaying of so many Huguenots, until late last night; and will not be astir early, this morning. Probably, too, they will, before they think of sallying out, attend the churches; where the priests will stir them up to fury, before they lead them out on a crusade into the country.
“I would that we knew where they are likely to begin. There are a dozen villages, round the town.”
“What do you say to dividing our force, Francois? As we near the town, you with one party could ride round to the left, I with the other to the right and, searching each village as we go, could join forces again on the other side of the town. If Montpace had been with us, of course he would have taken the command of one of the parties. It is unfortunate that he is laid up with that wound he got, at Saint Denis.”
“I am afraid he will never be fit for active service again, Philip. But I am not sorry that he is not here. He might have objected to our dividing the troop; and besides, I am glad that you should command, putting aside everything else. We understand each other.
“You will, of course, cut down the ruffians from the towns without mercy, if you find them engaged in massacre. If not, you will warn the Huguenots of the villages, as you pass through, to leave their homes at once and make for Laville; giving a sharp intimation to the village maires that, if the Protestants are interfered with in any way, or hindered from taking their goods and setting out; we will, on our return, burn the village about their ears, and hang up any who have interfered with our people.”
“I should say, Francois, that we should take prisoners, and hold as hostages, any citizens of importance, or priests, whom we may find encouraging the townsfolk to massacre. I would take the village priests, and maire too, so as to carry out the same plan that acted so well at Toulouse. We could then summon Niort, and say that, unless the Huguenots in prison are released, and they and all the Huguenots in the town allowed to come out and join us, we will in the first place burn and destroy all the Catholic villages round the town, and the pleasure houses and gardens of the citizens; and that in the second place we will carry off the prisoners in our hands, and hang them at once, if we hear of a single Huguenot being further ill treated.”
“That would be a capital plan, Philip, if we could get hold of anyone of real importance. It is likely some of the principal citizens, and perhaps Catholic nobles of the neighbourhood, will be with those who sally out; so that they can claim credit and praise, from the court party, for their zeal in the cause. I wish our parties had been a little stronger for, after we have entered a village or two, we shall have to look after the prisoners.”
“I do not think it matters, Francois. A dozen stout men-at-arms, like ours, would drive a mob of these wretches before them. They will come out expecting to murder unresisting people; and the sight of our men-at-arms, in their white scarves, will set them off running like hares.”
“Let it be understood,” Philip continued, “that if, when one of us gets round to the other side of the town, he should not meet the other party, and can hear no tidings of it, he shall gallop on till he meets it; for it is just possible, although I think it unlikely, that one or other of us may meet with so strong a party of the enemy as to be forced to stand on the defensive, until the other arrives.”
“I think there is little chance of that, Philip; still, it as well that we should make that arrangement.”
As they neared Niort, they met several fugitives. From them they learned that, so far, the townspeople had not come out; but that the Catholics in the villages were boasting that an end would be made of the Huguenots that day, and that many of them were, in consequence, deserting their homes and making their escape, as secretly as they could, across the country. When within two miles of Niort, a column of smoke was seen to arise on the left of the town.
“They have begun the work!” Francois exclaimed. “That is my side!”
And he placed himself at the head of half the troop, giving them orders that they were to spare none whom they found engaged in massacring Huguenots, save priests and other persons acting as leaders. These were to be taken as hostages, for the safety of their brethren in the town.
“You need not be over careful with them,” he said. “Throw a picket rope round their necks, and make them trot beside you. They came out for a little excitement, let them have enough of it.”
As Francois rode off one way, Philip led his party the other.
“You have heard these orders,” he said. “They will do for you, also.”
The first place they rode into, they found the Catholic inhabitants in the streets; while the houses of the Huguenots were closed, and the shutters barred. The men fled as the troop dashed in.
“Pursue them,” Philip cried, “and thrash them back with the flat of your swords, but wound no one.”
Most of the men were soon brought back. By this time the Huguenots had opened their doors and, with shouts of joy, were welcoming their deliverers.
“Have they threatened you with harm?” Philip asked.
“Yes; there has been mass in the church this morning, and the priest has told them to prepare to join in the good work, as soon as the townspeople arrive.”
The priest had already been fetched from his house, guarded by two troopers. The maire was next pointed out, and seized. Two horses were brought out, and the prisoners placed on them.
“Put a rope round each of their necks,” Philip ordered. “Fasten it firmly.”
Two troopers took the other ends.
“Now you will come along with us,” Philip went on, “and if you try to escape, so much the worse for you.
“Now,” he said to the villagers, “we shall return here shortly, and then woe betide you if our orders are not executed. Every house in the village shall be burned to the ground, every man we lay hold of shall be hung.
“You will at once place every horse and cart here at the disposal of your Huguenot brethren. You will assist them to put their household goods in them, and will at once start with them for Laville. Those who do so will be allowed to return, unharmed, with their animals and carts.
“Eustace, you will remain here with two men, and see that this order is carried out. Shoot down without hesitation any man who murmurs. If there is any trouble whatever, before our return, the priest and the maire shall dangle from the church tower.”
The next two villages they entered, the same scene was enacted. As they approached the fourth village, they heard cries and screams.
“Lower your lances, my friends. Forward!”
And at a gallop, the little band dashed into the village.
It was full of people. Several bodies of men and women lay in the road. Pistol shots rang out here and there, showing that some of the Huguenots were making a stout defence of their homes. Through and through the crowd the horsemen rode, those in front clearing their way with their lances, those behind thrusting and cutting with their swords.
The Catholics were, for the most part, roughly armed. Some had pikes, some had swords, others axes, choppers, or clubs; but none now thought of defence. The arms that had been brought out for the work of murder were thrown away, and there was no thought, save of flight.
The doors of the Huguenot houses were thro
wn open and the men, issuing out, fell upon those who were, just before, their assailants. Philip saw some horsemen, and others, collected round a cross in the centre of the village and, calling upon the men near him to follow, dashed forward and surrounded the party, before they apprehended the meaning of this sudden tumult. Two or three of the men drew their swords, as if to resist; but seeing that their friends were completely routed, they surrendered.
The party consisted of three men who were, by their dresses, persons of rank; four or five citizens, also on horseback; four priests, and a dozen acolytes, with banners and censers.
“Tie their hands behind them,” Philip ordered. “Not the boys; let them go.”
“I protest against this indignity,” one of the gentlemen said. “I am a nobleman.”
“If you were a prince of the blood, sir, and I found you engaged in the massacre of innocent people, I would tie you up, and set you swinging from the nearest tree, without compunction.”
Their arms were all tightly bound behind them.
“Would you touch a servant of the Lord?” the leading priest said.
“Your clothing is that of a servant of the Lord,” Philip replied; “but as I find you engaged upon the work of the devil, I can only suppose that you have stolen the clothes.
“Four of you take these priests behind you,” he said to his men; “tie them tightly, with their backs to yours. That will leave you the use of your arms.
“Pierre, do you ride beside the other prisoners and, if you see any attempt at escape, shoot them at once.
“Quick, my lads; there may be more of this work going on, ahead.”
He then gave similar instructions, for the carriage of the Huguenot goods, as he had at the preceding places.
At the next village they were in time to prevent the work of massacre from commencing. A party of horsemen and some priests, followed by a mob, were just entering it as they rode up. The horsemen were overthrown by their onset, the mob sent flying back towards the town, the Huguenots charging almost up to the gates. The horsemen and priests were made prisoners, as before; and when the rest of the band returned from their pursuit, they again rode on. They had now made half a circuit of Niort, and presently saw Francois and his party, galloping towards them.
“I had begun to be afraid that something had happened,” Francois said, as he rode up. “I waited a quarter of an hour and then rode on, as we agreed.
“Well, I see you have got a good batch of prisoners.”
“We have lost no time,” Philip said. “We have been through five villages. At one we were just in time, for they had begun the work of massacre, before we got up. At another, we met them as they arrived. But at the other three, although the villagers were prepared for the work, the townsmen had not arrived.”
“There were only three villages on my side,” Francois said. “At the first, they had nearly finished their work before we arrived. That was where we saw the smoke rising. But we paid them for it handsomely, for we must have cut down more than a hundred of the scoundrels. At one of the others, the Huguenots were defending themselves well; and there, too, we gave the townspeople a lesson. At the third, all was quiet. We have taken six or eight burghers, as many gentlemen, and ten priests.”
Philip told him the orders he had given, for the Catholics to place their horses and carts at the disposal of their Huguenot fellow villagers.
“I wish I had thought of it,” Francois said. “But it is not too late. I will ride back with my party, and see all our friends well on their way from the villages. I left four men at each, to keep the Catholics from interfering.
“If you will go back the way you came, we will meet again on the main road, on the other side of the town. I don’t think there is any fear of their making a sortie. Our strength is sure to be greatly exaggerated; and the fugitives, pouring in from each side of the town with their tales, will spread a report that Conde himself, with a whole host of horsemen, is around them.”
Philip found all going on well, as he returned through the villages, the scare being so great that none thought of disobeying the orders; and in a couple of hours he rejoined Francois, having seen the whole of the Huguenot population of the villages well on their way.
“Now, Philip, we will go and summon the town. First of all, though, let us get a complete list of the names of our prisoners.”
These were all written down, and then the two leaders, with their eight men-at-arms, rode towards the gates of Niort, a white flag being raised on one of the lances.
Chapter 9
An Important Mission
“We have made an excellent haul,” Francois said as, while awaiting the answer to their signal, they looked down the list of names. “Among the gentlemen are several connected with some of the most important Catholic families of Poitou. The more shame to them, for being engaged in so rascally a business; though when the court and the king, Lorraine and the Guises, set the example of persecution, one can scarcely blame the lesser gentry, who wish to ingratiate themselves with the authorities, for doing the same.
“Of the citizens we have got one of the magistrates, and four or five other prominent men; whom I know, by reputation, as having been among the foremost to stir up the people against the Huguenots. These fellows I could hang up with pleasure, and would do so, were it not that we need them to exchange for our friends.
“Then we have got thirty priests. The names of two of them I know as popular preachers who, after the last peace was made, denounced the king and his mother as Ahab and Jezebel, for making terms with us. They, too, were it not for their sacred office, I could string up without having any weight upon my conscience.
“Ah! There is the white flag. Let us ride forward.”
The gates remained closed, and they rode up to within a hundred yards of them. In a few minutes several persons made their appearance on the wall over the gateway, and they then advanced to within twenty paces of the gate.
Then one from the wall said:
“I am John De Luc, royal commissioner of this town. This is the reverend bishop of the town. This is the maire, and these the magistrates. To whom am I speaking?”
“I am the Count Francois de Laville,” Francois replied; “and I now represent the gentlemen who have come hither, with a large body of troops, to protect those of our faith from persecution and massacre. We arrived too late to save all, but not to punish; as the ruffians of your town have learned, to their cost. Some two or three hundred of them came out to slay, and have been slain.
“The following persons are in our hands,” and he read the list of the prisoners. “I now give you notice that unless, within one hour of the present time, all those of the reformed faith whom you have thrown into prison, together with all others who wish to leave, are permitted to issue from this gate, free and unharmed, and carrying with them what portion of their worldly goods they may wish to take, I will hang up the whole of the prisoners in my hands—gentlemen, citizens, and priests—to the trees of that wood, a quarter of a mile away. Let it be understood that the terms are to be carried out to the letter. Proclamation must be made through your streets that all of the reformed faith are free to depart, taking with them their wives and families, and such valuables and goods as they may choose. I shall question those who come out, and if I find that any have been detained against their will, or if the news has not been so proclaimed that all can take advantage of it, I shall not release the prisoners.
“If these terms are not accepted, my officers will first hang the prisoners, then they will ravage the country round; and will then proceed to besiege the city and, when they capture it, take vengeance for the innocent blood that has been shed within its walls. You best know what is the strength of your garrison, and whether you can successfully resist an assault by the troops of the Admiral.
“I will give you ten minutes to deliberate. Unless by the end of that time you accept the conditions offered, it will go hard with those in our hands.”
“Im
pious youth,” the bishop, who was in full pontificals, said, “you would never dare to hang priests.”
“As the gentlemen of your party have thought it no sin to put to death scores of our ministers, and as I found these most holy persons hounding on a mob to massacre, I shall certainly feel no compunction, whatever, in executing the orders of my leader, to hang them with the other malefactors,” Francois replied; “and methinks that you will benefit these holy men more, by advising those with you to agree to the conditions which I offer, than by wasting your breath in controversy with me.”
There was a hasty conversation between those on the wall, and it was not long before they came to an agreement. De Luc feared that he should incur the enmity of several powerful families, if he left their relatives for execution. The citizens were equally anxious to save their fellows; and were, moreover, scared at the threat of the neighbourhood being laid waste, and the town attacked, by this unknown force that had appeared before it. They had heard vague rumours of the arrival of the prince and Admiral, with a large force, at La Rochelle; but it might well be that he had turned aside on his journey, at the news of the occurrences at Niort. The bishop was equally anxious to rescue the priests, for he felt that he might be blamed for their death by his ecclesiastical superiors.
Their consultation over, de Luc turned to the Count.
“Do you give me your solemn assurance and word, as a noble of France, that upon our performing our part of the condition, the prisoners in your hands shall be restored unharmed?”
“I do,” Francois replied. “I pledge my honour that, as soon as I find that the whole of those of our religion have left the town peaceably, the prisoners shall be permitted to return, unharmed in any way.”
“Then we accept the terms. All those of the reformed religion in the town, whether at present in prison or in their homes, who may desire to leave, will be permitted to pass. As soon as you retire, the gate shall be opened.”