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Exiled for the Faith: A Tale of the Huguenot Persecution, a fiction by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 2. A Walk Through Paris |
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_ CHAPTER TWO. A WALK THROUGH PARIS On reaching the gate of the palace, Nigel had met the captain of the Scottish guard, Norman Leslie, a distant relative, by whose means he had gained admission to the palace, and had been able to enjoy the interview with his cousin, Mary Seton. "How fared it with you, Nigel, among the gay ladies of the court?" asked the captain, one of those careless characters, who receive their pay and fight accordingly, very little troubled as to the justice of the cause they support. "I had a talk with my cousin, and had the honour of paying my _devoirs_ to the queen," answered Nigel, cautiously. "Having now no longer any business in Paris, I am about to set out on a visit to Admiral Coligny. Can you direct me to my hostelry, at the sign of the Angel, and tell me where I can find a steed to carry me on my journey? for, albeit it would best suit my purse to trudge on foot, I would wish to present myself to the admiral in a way suitable to the character of a Scottish gentleman." "As I am off guard I will accompany you, my good kinsman, and will assist you in procuring a horse," was the answer. Nigel gladly accepted Leslie's offer, and the two Scotchmen set forth together. Nigel, being totally ignorant of the city, had no notion in what direction they were going. They were passing through the Rue Saint Antoine, when they saw before them a large crowd thronging round a party of troopers and a body of men-at-arms, who were escorting between them several persons, their hands bound behind their backs, and mostly without hats, the soldiers urging them on with the points of their swords or pikes; Nigel also observed among them three or four women, who were treated with the same barbarous indignity as the men. "Who are those unhappy people?" he asked. "Heretics on their way to prison, to be burnt, probably, in a few days for the amusement of the king, who, ambitious of surpassing his sister sovereign, Queen Mary of England, and to exhibit his love for religion, manages to put to death ten times as many as she ventures to send to the stake, unless they recant, when they will have the honour of being strangled or hung instead," answered Leslie, in a nonchalant tone. "He and his counsellors are determined to extirpate heresy; but as the Protestants are numbered by hundreds of thousands, and as there are a good many men of high rank and wealth among them, his Majesty has undertaken a difficult task." "I pray that he may alter his mind, or fail in the attempt," exclaimed Nigel, indignantly. "I may whisper amen; although, as the foolish people bring the punishment on their own heads, I am not inclined to throw down the gauntlet in their cause, and must e'en do my duty and carry out the orders of the master whose bread I eat," said Leslie. Nigel did not reply, but he felt more than ever determined not to take service on shore, however tempting the offers he might receive. Leslie told him that of late years, throughout France, many hundreds, nay, thousands of persons, after being broken on the wheel, or having had their tongues cut out, or being tortured in some other way, had been burnt at the stake for their religious opinions; but that, notwithstanding, the Protestants increased in numbers, and that, for his part, though himself a faithful son of the Church, he thought that a wiser plan might have been adopted. "For my part, I believe that had not the Pope and the priests and monks interfered, and worked up some of our fanatic nobles and the ignorant populace to persecute their fellow-countrymen, they might have lived together on friendly terms; and, for the life of me, I cannot see why people should not be allowed to worship God according to the dictates of their consciences," added the shrewd Scotchman, with a shrug of his shoulders. Nigel, who had only heard rumours of such proceedings, felt his blood boil with indignation, and instinctively touching the hilt of his sword, he vowed that he was ready to do battle in the cause of justice and humanity. His kinsman, who saw the act, smiled; and divining his thoughts, said, "Let me advise you to avoid interference in quarrels not your own, unless you receive a due recompense in pay, and then the less you trouble yourself about the rights of the case the better. Come along. The first thing we are to do is to look out for your steed. Honest Jacques Cochut will supply you with one which will bear you from one end of France to the other, and an attendant to bring the animal back. It will be more economical than purchasing a horse, unless you have a long journey to make." Nigel accompanied his friend to the stables of Jacques Cochut, to whom Leslie was well known. A strong and active steed was soon engaged, with the promise that it should be ready at the door of the hostelry at an early hour next morning. Leslie, leaving Nigel at the Angel inn, returned to his duty at the palace, while the latter, having ordered his supper, retired to his room to think over the events of the day. It is needless to say that Constance de Tourville frequently recurred to his thoughts. He had heard enough to make him understand the dangerous position of the Protestants in France, even of the highest rank, and the fearful persecutions to which all classes were exposed. From the remarks Constance had made, it was evident that she herself was exposed to much annoyance, if not danger, even within the precincts of the palace, and he earnestly hoped that he might have an opportunity of speaking to her father, and obtaining her release. He had sat for some time when he was aroused by a knock at the door, and the servant of the inn announced that a person desired to speak with him. "Let him come in," said Nigel; and a respectable-looking man, somewhat advanced in life, as was shown by his silvery locks, stepped forward. "I am attached to the house of the Count de Tourville, whose daughter despatched me to seek you out, and place myself at your service." "Come in, my friend," said Nigel, offering him a chair. "You are, I presume, Maitre Leroux, and I am grateful to the young lady for her kindness, of which I will gladly avail myself. Shall you be ready to set out to-morrow morning?" "I had intended to do so, but business will keep me in Paris for another day," answered Maitre Leroux; "and if you, fair sir, do not object to remain, I will gladly set forth with you at any hour you may name on the following morning. You may, in the mean time, find amusement in this big city of Paris." Nigel, who was pleased with Maitre Leroux, though anxious to continue his journey, willingly agreed to wait for the purpose of having his escort. "But I have engaged my horse for to-morrow," he added. "I will easily settle that matter with Jacques Cochut; and if you will accept of my company I will call for you, and show you some of the sights of our city, as you will, alone, be unable to find your way about the streets, and may chance to lose yourself, or get into some difficulty." "Thank you," said Nigel. "I shall indeed be glad of your society, for, except a kinsman in the guards, I know no one in the whole of Paris." These arrangements having been made, Maitre Leroux took his departure; and Nigel was not sorry, soon after supper, to throw himself on his bed, and seek the repose which even his well-knit limbs required. Nigel, who slept longer than was his wont, waited at the inn some time for Maitre Leroux. He was afraid to go out, lest the steward might arrive during his absence. At length his guide appeared. "I have been detained longer than I expected," said Maitre Leroux; "but monsieur will pardon me. We have still time to see much of the city." They set out, and during their walk visited many places of interest, of which the steward gave the history to the young Scotchman. "Your Paris buildings surpass those of our bonny Edinburgh in size and number, I must confess," remarked Nigel; "but still we have our Holyrood, and our castle, and the situation of our city is unrivalled, I am led to believe, by that of any other in the world." "As I have not seen your city I am unable to dispute the point," answered the steward. "Would you like to visit one of our courts of justice? Though not open to the public, I may be able to gain admittance, and I am deeply interested in the case, albeit it would be wise not to show that, and having a stranger with me will be a sufficient excuse." "Under those circumstances I will gladly accompany you," said Nigel. They soon reached the portals of a large building, through which, after some hesitation on the part of the guards, the steward and his companion were admitted. Nigel observed that Maitre Leroux slipped some money into the hands of two or three people, this silver key evidently having its usual power of opening doors otherwise closed. Going through a side door they reached a large hall, crowded with persons. Among those seated were numerous ecclesiastics, a judge in his robes, and lawyers and their clerks while a strong body of men-at-arms were guarding a party of some fifty or sixty persons, who, from their position and attitudes, were evidently prisoners. They were men of different ranks; several, from their costume, being gentlemen, and others citizens and artisans. There were a few women among them also. All looked deadly pale, but their countenances exhibited firmness and determination. "Of what crime have these people been guilty?" asked Nigel. "Of a fearful one in the eyes of their judges," answered Maitre Leroux. "They have been worshipping God according to the dictates of their consciences, and were found assembled together in a house at Meaux, listening to the gospel of the mild and loving Saviour. They have already been put to the torture to compel them to recant and betray their associates, but it has not produced the desired effect. In vain their advocate has pleaded their cause. Listen! the judge is about to pronounce their sentence." Dreadful indeed that was. With blasphemous expressions, which cannot be repeated, the condemned were sentenced to be carried back to Meaux; fourteen, after being again put to the torture, were to be burnt alive in the market-place; most of the others were to be hung up by their shoulders during the execution of their brethren, and then to be flogged and imprisoned for life in a monastery, while the remainder were to receive somewhat less severe, though still grievous punishment. The hardy young Scot almost turned sick with horror and indignation as he heard the sentence; and putting his hand to his sword, he was about to cry out and demand, in the name of justice, that instead of being punished, the prisoners should be released, when his companion grasped him by the arm, whispering, "Be calm, my friend; such events are so common in France, that we have grown accustomed to them. Hundreds have already died as these men are about to die; and we, their countrymen, have been compelled to look on without daring to raise our voices in their cause, or, as you are inclined to do, to draw a sword for their defence." Maitre Leroux, after exchanging a few sentences in an undertone with three or four people they met, whose sad countenances showed the interest they took in the condemned, led his young friend from the so-called hall of justice. On their way they looked into the magnificent church of Notre Dame. Priests in gorgeous dresses were chanting mass; music was pealing through the building, and incense was ascending to the roof. "Impious mockery," muttered Nigel. "Well may Calvin and John Knox desire the overthrow of such a system, and desire to supplant it by the true faith of the Gospel." "Hush! hush! my young friend," whispered Maitre Leroux, hurrying him out of the church, regretting that he had entered it. "Though many may think as you do, it's dangerous to utter such opinions in this place." "Can nothing be done to save these poor men?" asked Nigel. "Surely the king cannot desire the destruction of his subjects?" "The king, like Gallio, cares for none of these things. He is taught to believe that the priests are the best supporters of his crown: and, at all events, he knows that they allow him full licence in the indulgence of his pleasures, which the Protestants, he supposes, would be less inclined to do." "I would that I were out of this city of Paris, and away from France itself," said Nigel. "Many think and feel as you do, and are acting upon it," answered the steward. "Already many thousand men of science and clever artisans have left, to carry their knowledge and industry to other lands; and others, in all directions, are preparing to follow. You will hear more about the matter when you visit the admiral, and my good master, who does not look unmoved on such proceedings. More on the subject it would not become me to say. Not long ago an edict was issued, by which all the old laws on heresy were revived, it being the resolution of the king to purge and clear the country of all those who are deemed heretics. Magistrates are ordered to search unceasingly for them, and to make domiciliary visits in quest of forbidden books, while the informer is to obtain one-third of the heretic's confiscated property. Should a person be acquitted of heresy in any ordinary court of justice, he may be again tried before an ecclesiastical tribunal, thus depriving him of all chances of escape. Even interference on behalf of a heretic is made penal, and should a person be suspected, he must exhibit a certificate of orthodoxy, or run the risk of being condemned. You see, therefore, young sir, that I am right in recommending caution as to what you say; not that these edicts have the effect expected, for Calvinism increases rapidly, and the stream of emigration continues from all parts of the kingdom." They walked on in silence, Nigel meditating on what he had heard. "Some fresh air will do you good after the scenes we have witnessed," observed Maitre Leroux. "We will take a turn in the Pre-aux-Clercs. It is but a short distance past the Invalides." It was evening, and a number of people were thronging that pleasant meadow on the banks of the Seine, the Hyde Park of that period. A party of young men coming by struck up one of the hymns of Marot, a translation of one of the psalms of David, written some years before by the Protestant poet. Others joined in, and evidently sang them heartily; several other parties, as they passed along, were indulging in the same melodies. "How is it, after what you have told me, that the people venture to sing these hymns?" asked Nigel. "I know them well, for they have already been introduced into our Protestant congregations in Scotland." "They became the favourites of the king and court before they had the significance they now possess," answered the steward; "and it is only thus that many who hate the papal system can give expression to their sentiments. Before long, however, I fear that they will be prohibited, or those who sing them will be marked as suspected. Alas, alas! our lovely France will be deprived of all freedom of thought, opinion, and action." The worthy Maitre Leroux seemed greatly out of spirits as they took their way back to the inn. They parted at the door, for Nigel felt no inclination to go forth again, and the steward had business, he said, to attend to. He promised to call for Nigel at an early hour the next morning to set out for Meaux, undertaking to direct Jacques Cochut to have his horses in readiness. _ |
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