The Pocket Bible or Christian the Printer Part 55

Cornelia looked so beautiful as she gave utterance to these patriotic sentiments that all the members of the Lebrenn family turned their eyes admiringly toward the young girl.

"Oh, my brave one!" exclaimed Antonicq, rising and taking Cornelia's hands in his own with a transport of love. "How proud I am of your love!

What generous duties does it not impose upon me! Well, it is to be to-morrow--the happy day for you and me--the day when we are to be joined in wedlock!"

Hardly had Antonicq finished his sentence when the tramp of a horse's hoofs was heard in the street. It stopped at the armorer's door. Theresa Rennepont rose with a start, and ran to the door crying: "My husband!"

CHAPTER VIII.

ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S NIGHT.

The presentiment of the young wife did not deceive her. The door opened and Theresa fell into the arms of Louis Rennepont.

The joy of the Lebrenn family over the return of one of its members from a distant journey dominated at first all other feelings and thoughts.

Immediately after the first outpourings of affection the same question escaped at once from all lips:

"What tidings from Paris, and about Admiral Coligny?"

Alas! it was only then that the members of the Lebrenn family noticed the profound alteration of Louis Rennepont's appearance, and his wife, who had been scrutinizing the young man's face with eager and uneasy curiosity, suddenly cried:

"Great G.o.d! Louis, your hair has turned grey!"

Indeed, when Louis Rennepont left La Roch.e.l.le towards the end of the previous month, not a thread of silver whitened his raven locks. Now they were streaked with broad bands of grey! He seemed to have aged ten years. Such a change must have been produced by some terrible and sudden emotion. Theresa's exclamation was followed by a mournful silence. All eyes were fixed upon Louis Rennepont with increasing anxiety. He answered his wife with a trembling voice:

"Yes, Theresa; yes, my friends; my hair turned grey in one night--the night before St. Bartholomew's day--the night of the 23d of this month of August, of this year, 1572!"

And still shuddering with terror, his chest convulsed with repressed sobs, the young man hid his face in his hands and muttered: "My G.o.d! My G.o.d!"

Presently the young man recovered sufficient composure to proceed.

"Do you all remember," he said, solemnly addressing the stupefied members of his family, "the infernal scheme of Catherine De Medici that our poor Anna Bell overheard during the Queen's conversation with Loyola's disciple Lefevre at the Abbey of St. Severin?"

"Great G.o.d!" cried Antonicq. "The scheme of ma.s.sacring all the Protestants, disarmed by the peace?"

"The ma.s.sacre, begun in Paris under my own eyes, during the night before St. Bartholomew," answered Louis Rennepont with an effort, "that ma.s.sacre is proceeding at this very hour in almost all the large cities of France!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Captain Mirant. "In sight of such a stupendous crime one's head is seized with vertigo--one is not certain of himself--one asks himself whether he is awake, or dreams."

"By my sister's death! We are not dreaming!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Franc-Taupin. "Friends, if we look down at a stream running under our feet, it often happens that, for a moment, our head turns. That is what we are now experiencing. We see at our feet a torrent flowing, a torrent of blood--the blood of our brothers!"

"A curse upon my head," thundered the boilermaker Barbot, raising his clenched fist to the ceiling, "if the blood of the Catholics does not run, if not in torrents, at least drop by drop, before La Roch.e.l.le! Let them come and attack us!"

"They will come," put in Captain Mirant. "They are surely on the march now! Our ramparts shall be our grave! G.o.d be thanked, we shall not be slaughtered like cattle in the shambles! We shall die like men!"

Cornelia, pale and motionless like a statue of sorrow, her arms crossed over her palpitating bosom, and her face bathed in tears, remained in mute consternation until this moment. The girl now took two steps towards her betrothed and said to him in a trembling voice:

"Antonicq, to-morrow we were to be married--people in mourning do not marry. From this instant I wear mourning for our brothers, ma.s.sacred on St. Bartholomew's night! A woman owes obedience to her husband, according to our laws--iniquitous, degrading laws! I wish to remain free until after the war."

"Cornelia, the hour of sacrifices has sounded," answered Antonicq with a trembling voice; "my courage shall vie with yours."

"We have paid our tribute to human weakness," observed Odelin's widow, smothering a sob; "let us now bravely face the magnitude of the disaster that has smitten our cause. Louis, we listen to your account of St.

Bartholomew's night."

"When a few weeks ago I left for Paris, I concluded I would, in pa.s.sing through Poitiers, Angers and Orleans, visit several of our pastors in order to ascertain whether they also shared our apprehensions. Some I found completely set at ease by the loyal execution of the last edict, above all by the certainty of the marriage of Henry of Bearn with the sister of Charles IX. They looked upon this as a pledge of the good intentions of the King, and of the end of the religious conflicts. Other pastors, on the contrary, felt vaguely uneasy. Being convinced that Joan of Albert was poisoned by Catherine De Medici, they saw with no little apprehension what they considered the heedless confidence that Admiral Coligny placed in the court. But in short, the vast majority of our brothers felt perfectly at ease.

"Immediately upon my arrival at Paris I proceeded to Bethisy Street, the residence of Admiral Coligny. I expressed to him the fears that agitated the Rochelois concerning his life, so precious to our cause, and their mistrust of Charles IX and his mother. The Admiral's answer was: 'The only thing that keeps me back at court is the almost positive prospect of Flanders and the Low Countries rising against the bloodthirsty tyranny of Philip II. Only the support of France could insure the success of the revolt. If those rich industrial provinces secede from Spain, they will be the promised land to our brothers. These will find there a refuge, not as to-day, behind the ramparts of a very few cities of safety, but either in the Walloon provinces, which will have become French territory under solid guarantees for their freedom, or in the Low Countries, which will be federated upon a republican plan, in imitation of the Swiss cantons, under the protectorate of the Prince of Na.s.sau. By family tradition, and on principle, I am attached to the monarchic form of government. But I am well aware that many of our brothers, you of La Roch.e.l.le among them, shocked at the crimes of the reigning house, are strongly inclined towards a republic. To these, the federation of the Low Countries, should the same be established, will offer a form of government to their taste.' 'But, Admiral,' I replied, 'suppose our suspicions prove true, and the help that the King and his mother have so long been holding out the prospect of proves to be but a lure to hide some new trap?' 'I do not think so,' rejoined Admiral Coligny, 'although it may be. One must be ready for anything from Catherine De Medici and her son.' 'But,' I cried, 'Admiral, how can you, despite such doubts entertained by yourself, remain here at court, among your mortal enemies! Do you take no precautions to protect yourself against a possible, if not probable, act of treachery?' 'My friend,' was the Admiral's reply given in a grave and melancholy tone, 'for long years I have conducted that sort of war which, above all others, is the most frightful and atrocious--civil war. It inspires me with insurmountable horror. An uprising in Flanders and the Low Countries offers me the means of putting an end to the shedding of French blood and of securing a new and safe country to our brothers. It will be one way or the other--either the King's promises are sincere, or they are not. If they are I would consider it a crime to wreck through impatience or mistrust the success of a plan that promises so favorable a future to the Protestants.' 'And if the King should not be sincere,' I inquired, 'if his promises have no object other than to gain time to the end of insuring the success of some new and frightful treachery?' 'In that event, my friend, I shall be the victim of the treachery,' calmly answered Coligny. 'Is it my life they are after? I have long since offered it up as a sacrifice to G.o.d. Moreover, only day before yesterday, I declared to the King that, after the suppression of the revolt at Mons, as a consequence of which Lanoue, my best friend, fell a prisoner into the hands of the Spaniards, France should no longer hesitate to give her support to the insurrection of the Low Countries against Philip II.' 'And what did the King say to that? Did he give you any guarantee of his honest intentions?' 'The King,' Coligny answered me, 'said this to me: "_My good father, here are the nuptials of my sister Margot approaching; grant me only a week longer of pleasures and enjoyment, after which, I swear to you, by the word of a King, you and your friends will all be satisfied with me._"'"

At this pa.s.sage Louis Rennepont interrupted his narrative and cried with a shudder:

"Would you believe it, my friends, Charles IX addressed these ambiguous and perfidious words to Coligny on the 13th of August--and on the night of the 23rd the ma.s.sacre of our brothers took place!"

"Oh, these Kings!" exclaimed Marcienne, raising her eyes to heaven.

"These Kings! The sweat of our brows no longer suffices to slake their thirst. They are glutted with that--they now joke preparatorily to murder!"

"By my sister's death!" shouted the Franc-Taupin, furiously. "The Admiral must have been smitten with blindness. Acquainted as he was from a long and bitter experience with that tyrant whelp, that tiger cub, how is it he did not take warning from the double sense that the King's words carried! What imprudence!"

"Alas, far from it!" said Louis Rennepont. "In answer to the remarks I made to him, calling his attention to the suspiciousness of the King's words, a suspiciousness rendered all the more glaring by reason of the tyrant's character, the Admiral merely replied: 'If they are after my life, would they not long ago have killed me, in the course of these six months that I have been at court?' 'But monsieur,' I observed, 'it is not your life only that is threatened; they probably aim also at the lives of all our Protestant leaders. Our enemies rely upon your example, upon your presence at court, and upon the festivities of the marriage of Henry of Bearn, to attract our princ.i.p.al men to Paris--then to strike them all down at the giving of a signal, and to ma.s.sacre the rest of our brothers all over France. Do you forget the scheme that Catherine De Medici talked over with the Jesuit Lefevre?' 'No, no, my friend,' he replied serenely, 'my heart and my judgment refuse to believe such a monstrous plan possible; it exceeds the bounds of human wickedness. The most reckless tyrants, whose names have caused the earth to grow pale, never dreamed of anything even remotely approaching such a horrible crime--it would be nameless!"

"That crime now has a name--it is called 'St. Bartholomew's Night'!"

said Cornelia with a shudder. "What will be the name of the vengeance?"

"Mayhap the vengeance will be called the 'Siege of La Roch.e.l.le'!"

answered Captain Mirant, the girl's father. "Our walls are strong, and resolute are our hearts."

"The war will be a b.l.o.o.d.y one!" interjected Master Barbot the boilermaker.

Louis Rennepont proceeded with his narrative: "I left Admiral Coligny, unable to awaken his suspicions. He went to his Chatillon home, spent two days in that retreat so beloved of him, and returned to Paris on the 17th of August, the eve of the marriage of Henry of Bearn and Princess Marguerite. The union of a Protestant Prince with a Catholic Princess, in which so many of us saw the end of the religious struggles, drew to Paris almost all the Protestant leaders. I shall mention, among those whom I visited, Monsieur La Rochefoucauld, Monsieur La Force, and brave Colonel Piles. Apprehending no treason, they all shared the expectations of Coligny with respect to the revolt in the Low Countries. The feeling of safety that prevailed among my brothers gained upon me also. The marriage of Henry of Bearn and Princess Marguerite took place on the 18th of this month. From that day to the 21st there was a perpetual round of splendid festivities and general merrymaking at court and in the city. I took up my lodgings at the sign of the Swan, on St.

Thomas-of-the-Louvre Street, not far from the residence of Monsieur Coligny. The inn-keeper was of our people. On the 22d he came to my room at about nine in the morning and said to me with surprise not unmixed with alarm: 'Something strange is going on. I just learned that the provosts of each quarter of the city are going from house to house inquiring about the religion of the tenants, and noting down the Huguenots. The reason given is that a general census of the population is wanted. Subsequently,' the inn-keeper proceeded to say, 'the regiment of the Arquebusiers of the Guard entered Paris. Finally, I learn that last night a large number of arms, especially cutla.s.ses and daggers, were transported to the City Hall. I received this information from my niece. She is a Catholic and a chamber maid of the d.u.c.h.ess of Nevers.

The taking of a list of the Huguenots in town, the arrival of a whole regiment of Arquebusiers of the Guard, and finally the conveying of such large stores of arms to the City Hall, seem to me to foreshadow some plot against the Protestants. I wish you would notify the Admiral of these occurrences.' The inn-keeper's advice seemed wise to me. I hastened to Bethisy Street and knocked at the Admiral's house. He was not home. As was his habit, he had departed early in the morning to the Louvre. His old equerry Nicholas Mouche, to whom I imparted some of my information, seemed not a little startled. We agreed to proceed to the entrance of the palace and wait for the Admiral. We were pa.s.sing by the cloister of St. Germain-L'Auxerois, where several houses were in the course of construction, when we caught sight of Coligny returning on foot and followed by two of his serving men. He was reading a letter, and walked slowly. We hastened our steps to meet him. Suddenly we were blinded by the flash of a firearm, fired from the ground floor window of one of the houses contiguous to the cloister. Nicholas Mouche rushed to his master, screaming: 'Help! The Admiral is a.s.sa.s.sinated! Help! Help!'"

A cry of horror leaped from the lips of all the members of the Lebrenn family, who followed breathlessly the report of Louis Rennepont. Captain Mirant exclaimed:

"Murder and treason! To kill that great man in such a way! Vengeance!

Vengeance!"

"No," put in Louis Rennepont with a painful effort. "Monsieur Coligny, killed by a bullet, would at least have met a soldier's death. I followed close upon the heels of Nicholas Mouche and reached him at the moment when Coligny, pale but calm, pointed to the window from which the shot was fired, and said: 'The shot came from there.' The arquebus was loaded with two b.a.l.l.s. One carried off the Admiral's left thumb, while the other lodged in his arm near the elbow. Weakened by the loss of blood, that ran profusely, Coligny said to Nicholas Mouche: 'If I leaned upon your arm I could walk to my house--proceed!' In fact, he walked home. Several Protestant officers happened to be not far behind. Upon learning of the crime that was committed, they forced their way into the house where the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin had lain in ambush. They were informed that he fled through a rear door, where a saddled horse, held by a page in the Guise livery, stood waiting for him. Their searches proved vain. No trace of the a.s.sa.s.sin could they find."

"The Guises! Always the Guisards, either directly guilty, or the accomplices of a.s.sa.s.sins!" exclaimed Odelin's widow with a shudder.

"With how much blood have not those Lorrainian Princes reddened their hands since the butcheries of Va.s.sy! But did Monsieur Coligny's wound prove fatal?"

"No, unfortunately for the Admiral--because the very next day--" Louis Rennepont broke off suddenly. "Do you want to know, mother, whether the Guises were accomplices in the attempted murder upon the Admiral? Yes, they had their hands in that fresh misdeed, at the instigation of the Queen-mother. And here a plot begins to unroll itself, the deep villainy of which would seem incredible if Catherine De Medici and her son were not known. Presently I shall tell you from whom I have my information; it is reliable. In line with the conversation which she had with the Jesuit Lefevre, and which Anna Bell overheard, Catherine De Medici hated and feared the Guises no less than she did the Admiral. Her scheme was to cause the Admiral to be a.s.sa.s.sinated by the Guises; then to rid herself of them through the Protestants; and finally to rid herself of the Protestants by the King's soldiers. Does such an infernal combination seem impracticable to you? Well, it came near succeeding.

This was the plot: The Guises continued to slander the Admiral by accusing him of having suborned Poltrot who killed Francis of Guise at the siege of Orleans; the old family hatred burned as implacable as ever. On the day after the marriage of Henry of Bearn, the Queen and her son Charles IX said with much unction to Henry of Guise that, in order to preserve the confidence of the Huguenots and the Admiral, it was necessary to seem to give him a pledge of reconciliation, to request of him that the flames of hatred, so long burning in the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of the two families, be extinguished, and to offer him the hand of friends.h.i.+p. All the more rea.s.sured by the cordial advance, the Admiral was expected to be thrown still more off his guard, and his a.s.sa.s.sination was considered all the more certain! The Queen offered for the deed a man after her own and the King's heart--Maurevert, surnamed the 'King's Killer,' since his a.s.sa.s.sination of brave Mouy, a crime for which the felon received the collar of the Order of St. Michael. The Queen's advice was relished.

Young Guise gave his hand to the old Admiral, and two days later Monsieur Coligny, on his return from the Louvre, received a load of arquebus shot from--Maurevert!"

Louis Rennepont stopped for a moment, and then proceeded amid the profound silence of the family: