My dearly beloved Odelin.—Do everything your uncle Josephin may tell you, without asking any questions. Do not feel alarmed. I shall soon embrace you. I love you as ever, from the bottom of my heart.Your father,CHRISTIAN.
My dearly beloved Odelin.—Do everything your uncle Josephin may tell you, without asking any questions. Do not feel alarmed. I shall soon embrace you. I love you as ever, from the bottom of my heart.
Your father,CHRISTIAN.
Despite his vague and increasing uneasiness, Odelin felt quieted by those words of his father's: "I shall soon embrace you." He said to the Franc-Taupin:
"What must I do, uncle?"
The soldier of fortune took a bundle from his bed, drew out of it a Capuchin's robe, and said to his nephew:
"The first thing to do, my boy, is to put this robe over your clothes, and when we are out of doors you will take care to keep the cowl over your face, as I am doing now."
"I?" asked Odelin, startled. "Am I to put on such a costume?" But recalling the instructions of his father, he added: "I forgot that father wrote me to obey you, uncle, without asking any reasons for your orders. I shall put on the robe, immediately."
"Fine," said Master Raimbaud, forcing a smile on his lips in order to quiet Odelin. "There you are, from an armorer's apprentice transformed into a Capuchin's apprentice! The change does not seem to be to your taste, my little friend."
"It is my father's will, Master Raimbaud. I but obey. Truth to say, however, I do not fancy a monk's garb."
"I am a better papist than yourself, little Odelin," put in the Franc-Taupin ironically, as he helped his nephew to don his disguise; "I love the monks so well that I hope soon to start bestowing upon every one of them whom I may meet—the red skullcap of a Cardinal! Now, shoulder that wallet and bend your back; and then with a dragging leg, and neck stuck out, we shall imitate as well as we can the gait of that Roman Catholic and Apostolic vermin."
"How comical I shall look to mother and to my sister Hena when they see me arrive thus accoutred!" observed Odelin with a smile. "Dear uncle, if father is the only one informed of my disguise, I shall knock at the door of our house, and beg for an alms with a nasal twang. Just think of their surprise when I throw up my cowl!Corpo di Bacco!as the Italians say, we shall laugh till the tears run down our cheeks."
"Your idea is not bad," answered the Franc-Taupin, embarrassed. "But it is getting late. Bid Master Raimbaud good-bye, and let us depart."
"Is Master Raimbaud to stay here?"
"Yes, my boy—"
"Who is to see to the horses?"
"Do not trouble yourself about that; they will have their provender."
The armorer embraced his apprentice, whom he loved almost as an own son and bade him be of good cheer.
"Your adieu sounds sad, Master Raimbaud, and as if our separation were to be a long one," observed Odelin with moistening eyes. "Uncle! Oh, uncle! My alarm returns, it grows upon me. I can not account for the sadness of Master Raimbaud, and I do not understand the mystery of this disguise to enter Paris—"
"My dear boy, remember your father's instructions," said Josephin. "Put me no questions to which I can not now make an answer."
The boy resigned himself with a sigh. Shouldering his wallet, he descended after his uncle. As the latter heardthe clink of Odelin's spurs on the stairs, he turned to him:
"I forgot to make you take off your spurs. Remove them while I go and pay the inn-keeper. Wait for me outside at the cross road."
"Uncle, may I put into my wallet a few little presents that I bring from Italy for the family?"
"Do about that as you please," answered the Franc-Taupin.
While Odelin walked into the stable to remove his spurs and take out of his valise the articles which he wished to take with him, Josephin went to settle his score with the inn-keeper. The latter, who hugged his taproom, did not see young Odelin come down in his Capuchin vestments. To the Franc-Taupin he said: "You leave us early, my reverend. I hoped you would pay us a longer visit. But I can understand that you are in a hurry to reach Paris to witness the great ceremony."
"What ceremony have you in mind, my good man?"
"A traveler informed us that the bells and the chimes have been ringing in Paris with might and main since morning. All the houses along the road that the superb procession is to traverse were decorated with tapestry by orders of the Criminal Lieutenant, who also ordered that a lighted wax candle be held at every window. He also told us that the King, the Queen and all the Princes, as well as a crowd of great seigneurs and high dignitaries were to assist at the ceremony—the most magnificent that will yet have been seen—"
"Good evening, my host," said Josephin, anxious to putan end to the conversation and join his nephew who waited for him outside. To himself he was saying:
"What can the ceremony be that the inn-keeper has been informed about? After all, the event can only be favorable to us. The crowds that the streets will be filled with will facilitate our passage, and help us to reach unperceived the retreat designated by Monsieur Estienne."
The Franc-Taupin and his nephew walked rapidly towards Paris where they arrived as the sun was dipping the western horizon.
January 21, 1535! Alas, that date must remain inscribed in characters of blood in our plebeian annals, O, sons of Joel! If there is justice on earth or in heaven—and I, Christian Lebrenn, who trace these lines, believe in an avenging, an expiatory justice—some day, on that distant day predicted by Victoria the Great, the 21st of January may be also a day fatal to the race of crowned executioners, the princes, the nobles, and the infamous Romish priests.
You are about to contemplate, O, sons of Joel—you are about to contemplate the pious work of that King Francis I, that chivalrous King, that Very Christian King, as the court popinjays love to style him. A chivalrous King—he is false to his troth! A knightly King—he sells under the auctioneer's hammer the seats on the courts of justice and in the tribunals of religion! A very Christian King—he wallows in the filthiest of debauches! In order to impart a flavor of incest to adultery, he shares with one of his own sons, the husband of Catherine De Medici, the bed of the Duchess of Etampes. Finally, he expires tainted with a loathsome disease after ten years of frightfulsufferings! At this season, however, the miscreant is still in full health, and is engaged in honoring God, his saints and his Church with a human holocaust. Hypocrisy and ferocity!
A magnificent solemnity was that day to be the object of edification to all the good Catholics of Paris, as the inn-keeper announced to the Franc-Taupin. Read, O sons of Joel, the ordinance posted in Paris by order of the Very Christian King Francis I:
On Thursday the 21st day of January, 1535, a solemn procession will take place in the honor of God our Creater, of the glorious Virgin Mary, and of all the blessed Saints in Paradise. Our Seigneur, King Francis I, has been informed of the errors that are rife in these days, and of the placards and heretical books that are posted or scattered around the streets and thoroughfares of Paris by the vicious sectarians of Luther, and other blasphemers of the sacred Sacrament of the altar, the which accursed scum of society aims at the destruction of our Catholic faith and of the constitutions of our mother, the Holy Church of God.Therefore, our said Seigneur Francis I has held a Council, and, in order to repair the injury done to God, has decided to order a general procession, the same to close with the torture and execution of several heretics. At the head of the procession shall be carried the sacred Eucharist and the most precious relics of the city of Paris.First, on the 17th day of the said month of January, proclamation shall be made to the sound of trumpets, throughout the thoroughfares of Paris, ordering that the streets through which the said procession is to pass shall be swept clean, and all the houses ornamented with beautiful tapestry. The owners of the said houses shall stand before their doors, bare-headed and holding a lighted taper in their hands.—Item, on the Wednesday following, the 20th of the said month, the principals of all the Universities of Paris shall meet and orders shall be issued to them to cause the students of the said Colleges to be locked up, with the express injunction that the same shall not be allowed outside until the procession shall have passed, in order to obviate confusion and tumult. Furthermore the students shall fast on the eve and the day of the procession.—Item, provosts of the merchant guilds and the aldermen of the city of Paris shall cause barriers to be raised at the crossing of the streets through which the said procession is to pass, in order to prevent the people from crossing the lines of the marchers. Two soldiers and two archers shall be placed in charge of each one of the said barriers.—Item.halting places shall be erected in the middle of St. Denis and St. Honoré Streets, at the Cross-of-Trahoir, and at the further end of the Notre Dame Bridge, the latter of which shall be decorated with a gilded lanthorn, historical paintings of the holy Sacrament, and a dais of evergreen from which shall hang a number of crowns, and bannerets bearing the following sacred device:Ipsi peribunt, tu autem permanebis(They shall perish, but you, Holy Mother Church, shall remain forever).The same device shall be inscribed on the cards attached to the swarm of little birds that are to be set free along the passage of the said procession.[39]
On Thursday the 21st day of January, 1535, a solemn procession will take place in the honor of God our Creater, of the glorious Virgin Mary, and of all the blessed Saints in Paradise. Our Seigneur, King Francis I, has been informed of the errors that are rife in these days, and of the placards and heretical books that are posted or scattered around the streets and thoroughfares of Paris by the vicious sectarians of Luther, and other blasphemers of the sacred Sacrament of the altar, the which accursed scum of society aims at the destruction of our Catholic faith and of the constitutions of our mother, the Holy Church of God.
Therefore, our said Seigneur Francis I has held a Council, and, in order to repair the injury done to God, has decided to order a general procession, the same to close with the torture and execution of several heretics. At the head of the procession shall be carried the sacred Eucharist and the most precious relics of the city of Paris.
First, on the 17th day of the said month of January, proclamation shall be made to the sound of trumpets, throughout the thoroughfares of Paris, ordering that the streets through which the said procession is to pass shall be swept clean, and all the houses ornamented with beautiful tapestry. The owners of the said houses shall stand before their doors, bare-headed and holding a lighted taper in their hands.—Item, on the Wednesday following, the 20th of the said month, the principals of all the Universities of Paris shall meet and orders shall be issued to them to cause the students of the said Colleges to be locked up, with the express injunction that the same shall not be allowed outside until the procession shall have passed, in order to obviate confusion and tumult. Furthermore the students shall fast on the eve and the day of the procession.—Item, provosts of the merchant guilds and the aldermen of the city of Paris shall cause barriers to be raised at the crossing of the streets through which the said procession is to pass, in order to prevent the people from crossing the lines of the marchers. Two soldiers and two archers shall be placed in charge of each one of the said barriers.—Item.halting places shall be erected in the middle of St. Denis and St. Honoré Streets, at the Cross-of-Trahoir, and at the further end of the Notre Dame Bridge, the latter of which shall be decorated with a gilded lanthorn, historical paintings of the holy Sacrament, and a dais of evergreen from which shall hang a number of crowns, and bannerets bearing the following sacred device:Ipsi peribunt, tu autem permanebis(They shall perish, but you, Holy Mother Church, shall remain forever).
The same device shall be inscribed on the cards attached to the swarm of little birds that are to be set free along the passage of the said procession.[39]
The program of the ceremony was followed out point by point. The Franc-Taupin and Odelin entered Paris by the Gate of the Bastille of St. Antoine. They were wrapped in their Capuchin hoods, and took the route of St. Honoré Street. That thoroughfare was lighted by the tapers which, obedient to the royal decree, the householders held at the doors of their dwellings. Lavish tapestries, hangings and rich cloths ornamented with greens carpeted the walls of the houses from top to bottom. Men,women and children crowded the windows. A lively stream of people moved about gaily, loudly admiring the splendors of the feast. Arrived near the Arcade of Eschappes, which ran into St. Honoré Street, the Franc-Taupin and Odelin were forced to halt until the procession had passed before they could cross the street. All the crossings were closed with barriers and guarded by soldiers and archers.
Thanks to the respect that their monastic garb inspired, Josephin and his nephew were allowed to clear the barrier which separated them from the first ranks of the procession, and finally to fall in line with the same.
Romish idolatry and royal pride exhibited themselves in the midst of the pomp and circumstance of the occasion. King, Queen, Princes, Princesses, Cardinals, Archbishops, Marshals, courtiers, ladies in waiting, high dignitaries of the courts of justice, magistrates, consuls, bourgeois, guilds of artisans—all were about to batten upon the torture and death of the heretics, whose only crime consisted in the practice of the Evangelical doctrine in its pristine purity.
Read, O, sons of Joel, the narrative of this execrable ceremony, transmitted by a spectator, an ardent Catholic and fervent royalist, Dom Felibien. Preserve the pages in our family annals, they are the irrefutable witnesses of the religious fanaticism of those days of ignorance, under clerical domination and monarchic despotism. Dom Felibien says:
"At the head of the procession marched the Swiss ofthe King's guard. They preceded the Queen, who was richly attired in a robe of black velvet lined with lynx skin. She rode a white palfrey with housings of frizzled gold cloth, and was accompanied by mesdames the King's daughters, likewise richly accoutred in robes of crimson satin embroidered with gold thread, and riding beautiful and splendidly caparisoned palfreys. Many other dames and princesses, besides a troop of knights, seneschals and palace dignitaries on horseback, pages, lackeys and Swiss Guards on foot marched beside the Queen."After her came the Cordelier monks in large numbers, carrying many relics, each holding a little lighted taper with profound devotion."After these came the preaching Jacobin friars, also carrying many relics. Each bore a chaplet of Notre Dame, and all were devoutly engaged in prayer to God."After these, the Augustinian monks, marching in similar order, and also carrying many relics."After these, the Carmelites, in the same order, and, in their wake all the parish priests of the city of Paris, each with his cross, robed in their capes, and carrying relics surrounded with numerous tapers."After these, the collegiates of the churches, carrying many relics and holy bodies, the latter surrounded by many tapers."After these, the Mathurins, dressed all in white. They marched devoutly wrapped in prayer and holding tapers."After these, the friars of St. Magloire carrying the shrine of Monsieur St. Magloire."After these, the friars of St. Germain-des-Prez, carrying the shrine of Monsieur St. Germain-le-Vieil, who, as far back as man's memory went, had never before been known to leave the precincts of St. Germain. To the right of the holy body, the said friars, each with a lighted white wax candle; to the left, the friars of St. Martin-of-the-Fields, carrying the shrine of St. Paxant, a martyr. The two shrines abreast and beside each other."After these the relics of Monsieur St. Eloi in the shrine of the said Saint, carried by locksmiths, each wearing a hat of flowers."After these, Monsieur St. Benoit, with other shrines containing the bodies of Saints belonging to the said city."After that, a huge relic of solid gold and inestimable value, studded with precious stones and enclosing the bones of several Saints, the whole carried on the shoulders of sixteen bourgeois of the city of Paris. Beside this relic was to be seen that of the great St. Philip, an exquisite coffer from Notre Dame of Paris."After these, came in beautiful order the shrines of Madam St. Genevieve, carried by eighteen men, naked (except for their shirts), with hats of flowers on their heads, and by four monks, also in their shirts, with bare legs and feet. Then the shrine of Monsieur St. Martel, reverently carried by the goldsmiths, dressed in dress of state. That shrine also had not in the memory of man been carried beyond the bridge of Notre Dame. In order to secure the safe and orderly carriage of these shrines through the large concourse of people, all of whom werecurious to see and draw near them, a number of archers and other officers were detailed to escort the same."After these, the monks of St. Genevieve and St. Victor, barefooted, each holding a lighted taper and praying to God with great devotion."After these, the canons and priests of St. Germain-of-Auxerre, chanting canticles of praise put to music."After these, the secular doctors and regulars of the four faculties of the University of Paris. The rector and his beadles, the latter carrying before him their maces of gold and silver."After these, the doctors of theology and medicine in large numbers dressed in their sacerdotal and other garbs, each holding a lighted wax candle."After these came, marching in beautiful order on both sides of the street, the Swiss Guards of the King, dressed in the velvet of his livery, each armed with his halberd. The fifers and war drummers marched two by two at the head of the said Swiss Guards, beating upon their drums and blowing their fifes in funeral notes."After these, the hautboys, trumpets, cornet and clarion players, all in the King's livery, and melodiously intoning the beautiful hymnPange, lingua, gloriosi corporis mysterium, etc., which is the hymn of the holy Sacrament, and which moved all the bystanders to tears, such was its power."After these, Monsieur Savigny, one of the captains of the King's guards, establishing order and preventing tumult during the procession."After him, came the King's heralds-at-arms, clad in their jackets of silver cloth."After them, the choristers of the same Seigneur, those attached to the domestic service as well as those attached to the holy chapel of the palace. They marched together, singing:O salutaris Hostia, and other beautiful anthems."After these, ten priests robed in chasubles, their heads bare, and carrying the relic of Monsieur St. Louis, once King of France, encased and studded with quantities of precious stones of inestimable value."After these, the holy and precious relic of the holyCROWN OF THORNSof our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, an inestimable relic which, as far back as the memory of man runs, was never before carried in any procession whatever, and caused the hair to stand on end of all those who saw it, and rendered them charmed with God, as they considered His blessed passion."After this, thetrue crosson which our Lord Jesus Christ was crucified. It was taken from the Holy Chapel, besides another piece of the saidtrue crossfrom Notre Dame of Paris."After that therod of Aaron, an old relic; the holyironof the lance wherewith Longus pierced the precious side of our Savior Jesus Christ; one of the HOLYNAILSwith which He was nailed to the cross; the SPONGE, the CARCAN, the CHAINwith which our Lord was fastened to the pillar; His IMMACULATEROBE; the SHEETin which He was wrapped in the tomb as in a winding-cloth; the NAPKINSof His babyhood; the REEDstuck into His handwhen He was crowned with thorns; the TABLEOFSTONEwhich the children of Israel hewed in the desert; aDROP OF THE PRECIOUS BLOODof our Lord Jesus; finally a DROPOFMILKof the glorious Virgin Mary, Mother of God. The which beautiful relics, all taken from the treasury of the Holy Chapel, were accompanied and carried by ten archbishops and bishops dressed in their pontifical vestments, and marching two by two."After these, the ambassadors from the Emperor, from the King of England, from Venice, and other potentates and seigneurs."After these, and marching abreast, the Cardinals of Tournon, Veneur and Givry; the Bishop of Soissons; and Monsieur Gabriel of Saluces, carrying a beautiful relic of a cross studded with several precious stones."After these, Knights with their battle-axes escorting the precious and sacred body of our Lord Jesus Christ at the sacrament of the altar, which was carried by Monsieur the Bishop of Paris on a cross under a canopy of crimson velvet spangled with gold fleur-de-lis, the canopy being borne aloft by our Seigneurs, the King's sons, to wit, Monsieur the Dauphin, Monsieur of Orleans, Monsieur of Angoulème, and Monsieur of Vendosme, all the said Princes bareheaded, and clad in robes of black velvet with heavy gold borders and lined with white satin, and near them several counts and barons to relieve them."After these, came theKing our Sire, bareheaded, in great reverence. He was clad in a robe of black velvet lined with black silk, girded with a girdle of taffeta, andin his hand a large white wax candle furnished with a holder of crimson velvet. Beside him, the Cardinal of Lorraine, to whom, every time the holy sacrament rested at the halting places, the said Seigneur our King passed the wax candle, while he himself made his prayers with his hands joined. Seeing the which, there was none among the spectators, whether grown or little, who did not weep warm tears, and who did not pray to God for the King whom the said people saw in such great devotion, and performing so devout an act and so worthy of remembrance for all time. And it may well be presumed that neither Jew nor infidel present, seeing the example of the King and his good people, failed of being converted to the Catholic faith."After these, the parliaments, with the ushers walking before, each with a staff in his hands; the four notaries; the clerks of the criminal courts, dressed in scarlet gowns and wearing their furred hats; messieurs the presidents with their mantles over their shoulders and their mortars on their heads; the chiefs of departments, and the counsellors, in red robes."After these, the Chief Justices, and heads of the treasury and the mint; the comptrollers of the city of Paris, each with a lighted white wax candle in his hand, and clad in their parti-colored robes of red and blue, the city colors."Finally, the archers, the cross-bowmen, and the arquebusiers of Paris, dressed in their uniforms, and each holding a wax candle."[40]
"At the head of the procession marched the Swiss ofthe King's guard. They preceded the Queen, who was richly attired in a robe of black velvet lined with lynx skin. She rode a white palfrey with housings of frizzled gold cloth, and was accompanied by mesdames the King's daughters, likewise richly accoutred in robes of crimson satin embroidered with gold thread, and riding beautiful and splendidly caparisoned palfreys. Many other dames and princesses, besides a troop of knights, seneschals and palace dignitaries on horseback, pages, lackeys and Swiss Guards on foot marched beside the Queen.
"After her came the Cordelier monks in large numbers, carrying many relics, each holding a little lighted taper with profound devotion.
"After these came the preaching Jacobin friars, also carrying many relics. Each bore a chaplet of Notre Dame, and all were devoutly engaged in prayer to God.
"After these, the Augustinian monks, marching in similar order, and also carrying many relics.
"After these, the Carmelites, in the same order, and, in their wake all the parish priests of the city of Paris, each with his cross, robed in their capes, and carrying relics surrounded with numerous tapers.
"After these, the collegiates of the churches, carrying many relics and holy bodies, the latter surrounded by many tapers.
"After these, the Mathurins, dressed all in white. They marched devoutly wrapped in prayer and holding tapers.
"After these, the friars of St. Magloire carrying the shrine of Monsieur St. Magloire.
"After these, the friars of St. Germain-des-Prez, carrying the shrine of Monsieur St. Germain-le-Vieil, who, as far back as man's memory went, had never before been known to leave the precincts of St. Germain. To the right of the holy body, the said friars, each with a lighted white wax candle; to the left, the friars of St. Martin-of-the-Fields, carrying the shrine of St. Paxant, a martyr. The two shrines abreast and beside each other.
"After these the relics of Monsieur St. Eloi in the shrine of the said Saint, carried by locksmiths, each wearing a hat of flowers.
"After these, Monsieur St. Benoit, with other shrines containing the bodies of Saints belonging to the said city.
"After that, a huge relic of solid gold and inestimable value, studded with precious stones and enclosing the bones of several Saints, the whole carried on the shoulders of sixteen bourgeois of the city of Paris. Beside this relic was to be seen that of the great St. Philip, an exquisite coffer from Notre Dame of Paris.
"After these, came in beautiful order the shrines of Madam St. Genevieve, carried by eighteen men, naked (except for their shirts), with hats of flowers on their heads, and by four monks, also in their shirts, with bare legs and feet. Then the shrine of Monsieur St. Martel, reverently carried by the goldsmiths, dressed in dress of state. That shrine also had not in the memory of man been carried beyond the bridge of Notre Dame. In order to secure the safe and orderly carriage of these shrines through the large concourse of people, all of whom werecurious to see and draw near them, a number of archers and other officers were detailed to escort the same.
"After these, the monks of St. Genevieve and St. Victor, barefooted, each holding a lighted taper and praying to God with great devotion.
"After these, the canons and priests of St. Germain-of-Auxerre, chanting canticles of praise put to music.
"After these, the secular doctors and regulars of the four faculties of the University of Paris. The rector and his beadles, the latter carrying before him their maces of gold and silver.
"After these, the doctors of theology and medicine in large numbers dressed in their sacerdotal and other garbs, each holding a lighted wax candle.
"After these came, marching in beautiful order on both sides of the street, the Swiss Guards of the King, dressed in the velvet of his livery, each armed with his halberd. The fifers and war drummers marched two by two at the head of the said Swiss Guards, beating upon their drums and blowing their fifes in funeral notes.
"After these, the hautboys, trumpets, cornet and clarion players, all in the King's livery, and melodiously intoning the beautiful hymnPange, lingua, gloriosi corporis mysterium, etc., which is the hymn of the holy Sacrament, and which moved all the bystanders to tears, such was its power.
"After these, Monsieur Savigny, one of the captains of the King's guards, establishing order and preventing tumult during the procession.
"After him, came the King's heralds-at-arms, clad in their jackets of silver cloth.
"After them, the choristers of the same Seigneur, those attached to the domestic service as well as those attached to the holy chapel of the palace. They marched together, singing:O salutaris Hostia, and other beautiful anthems.
"After these, ten priests robed in chasubles, their heads bare, and carrying the relic of Monsieur St. Louis, once King of France, encased and studded with quantities of precious stones of inestimable value.
"After these, the holy and precious relic of the holyCROWN OF THORNSof our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, an inestimable relic which, as far back as the memory of man runs, was never before carried in any procession whatever, and caused the hair to stand on end of all those who saw it, and rendered them charmed with God, as they considered His blessed passion.
"After this, thetrue crosson which our Lord Jesus Christ was crucified. It was taken from the Holy Chapel, besides another piece of the saidtrue crossfrom Notre Dame of Paris.
"After that therod of Aaron, an old relic; the holyironof the lance wherewith Longus pierced the precious side of our Savior Jesus Christ; one of the HOLYNAILSwith which He was nailed to the cross; the SPONGE, the CARCAN, the CHAINwith which our Lord was fastened to the pillar; His IMMACULATEROBE; the SHEETin which He was wrapped in the tomb as in a winding-cloth; the NAPKINSof His babyhood; the REEDstuck into His handwhen He was crowned with thorns; the TABLEOFSTONEwhich the children of Israel hewed in the desert; aDROP OF THE PRECIOUS BLOODof our Lord Jesus; finally a DROPOFMILKof the glorious Virgin Mary, Mother of God. The which beautiful relics, all taken from the treasury of the Holy Chapel, were accompanied and carried by ten archbishops and bishops dressed in their pontifical vestments, and marching two by two.
"After these, the ambassadors from the Emperor, from the King of England, from Venice, and other potentates and seigneurs.
"After these, and marching abreast, the Cardinals of Tournon, Veneur and Givry; the Bishop of Soissons; and Monsieur Gabriel of Saluces, carrying a beautiful relic of a cross studded with several precious stones.
"After these, Knights with their battle-axes escorting the precious and sacred body of our Lord Jesus Christ at the sacrament of the altar, which was carried by Monsieur the Bishop of Paris on a cross under a canopy of crimson velvet spangled with gold fleur-de-lis, the canopy being borne aloft by our Seigneurs, the King's sons, to wit, Monsieur the Dauphin, Monsieur of Orleans, Monsieur of Angoulème, and Monsieur of Vendosme, all the said Princes bareheaded, and clad in robes of black velvet with heavy gold borders and lined with white satin, and near them several counts and barons to relieve them.
"After these, came theKing our Sire, bareheaded, in great reverence. He was clad in a robe of black velvet lined with black silk, girded with a girdle of taffeta, andin his hand a large white wax candle furnished with a holder of crimson velvet. Beside him, the Cardinal of Lorraine, to whom, every time the holy sacrament rested at the halting places, the said Seigneur our King passed the wax candle, while he himself made his prayers with his hands joined. Seeing the which, there was none among the spectators, whether grown or little, who did not weep warm tears, and who did not pray to God for the King whom the said people saw in such great devotion, and performing so devout an act and so worthy of remembrance for all time. And it may well be presumed that neither Jew nor infidel present, seeing the example of the King and his good people, failed of being converted to the Catholic faith.
"After these, the parliaments, with the ushers walking before, each with a staff in his hands; the four notaries; the clerks of the criminal courts, dressed in scarlet gowns and wearing their furred hats; messieurs the presidents with their mantles over their shoulders and their mortars on their heads; the chiefs of departments, and the counsellors, in red robes.
"After these, the Chief Justices, and heads of the treasury and the mint; the comptrollers of the city of Paris, each with a lighted white wax candle in his hand, and clad in their parti-colored robes of red and blue, the city colors.
"Finally, the archers, the cross-bowmen, and the arquebusiers of Paris, dressed in their uniforms, and each holding a wax candle."[40]
Such was that great Catholic procession!
The procession wound its way through St. Honoré, St. Denis and St. James-of-the-Slaughterhouse Streets, and then crossed the Notre Dame Bridge.
Cages full of birds were opened, and the little feathered brood flew from their prisons with open wings. The procession deployed on the square before the parvise of the Cathedral of Notre Dame. All the surrounding houses, tapestried from top to bottom, were lined with spectators at the windows, on the cornices, the shafts of pillars and the roofs. As they stood waiting for the procession to go by near the Arcade of Eschappes, the Franc-Taupin and his nephew caught sight of Hervé among the Cordelier monks, whose garb he wore.
"My brother!" cried Odelin, making to rush forward towards Hervé and embrace him. "There is my brother!"
But Josephin seized his nephew by the arm, and whispered to him:
"My boy, if a single move made by you draws attention upon us, we shall be discovered and arrested."
Odelin's exclamation, being drowned by the psalmody of the Cordeliers, did not reach the ears of Hervé. The latter did not even notice his brother, whose face was partially covered by his cowl. The Cordeliers passed by, thenthe Augustinians, the Carmelites, the Dominicans, the Genevievians, the Jacobins, and many other monks of differently shaped and colored garbs. Josephin sought to place the greatest distance possible between himself and Hervé. He fell in line with the Mathurins, who brought up the rear of the division of monks.
Odelin began to feel disturbed in mind. The events in which he had already that day participated, his apprehensions regarding his family, the sight of his brother in the habits of a Cordelier monk, the preparations for the torture and death of the heretics, a spectacle that he now saw himself forced to witness—everything combined to harass his mind with perplexities. At times Odelin imagined himself under the obsession of a nightmare. His uncertain and almost stumbling step was noticed by the Superior of the Mathurins, who expressed his surprise thereat to Josephin. The Franc-Taupin merely answered that this was the first time the novice attended an execution of heretics.
The procession having arrived before the parvise of Notre Dame, each division of which it was composed took the place assigned to it. A stage, covered with rich tent-cloth was prepared for King Francis I, the Queen, the Princes and Princesses of the royal family, the court ladies, the Cardinals, the Archbishops, the Marshals, the presidents of the parliaments, and the principal courtiers. The pyre faced the royal platform at a convenient distance, in order that the noble assemblage be annoyed neither by the heat nor smoke of the fire, and yet could followclosely the cruel details of the tragedy. The pyre consisted of a heap of fagots from fifteen to twenty feet long, and about six or seven feet high. Close to the pyre rose six machines. Each consisted of a perpendicular beam, the bottom driven into the earth and the top furnished with an iron clamp in the socket of which a cross-beam was attached. This beam could be made to tip forward over the fagots. At the forward extremity of the cross-beam, and hanging from chains, was an iron chair provided with a back and foot-board after the fashion of a swing. To the rear extremity of the cross-beam ropes and pulleys were attached, holding it down to the ground.
The Franc-Taupin contemplated with horror those implements of torture, while he gave his support to poor Odelin, who shook convulsively. The Superior of the Mathurins, who happened to stand near Josephin, addressed him with a smile:
"Perhaps you do not understand the value of those machines which we shall shortly see put into operation?"
"No, dear brother, you are right. I have no idea of what those machines are for in this affair."
"They are an invention due to the genius of our Sire the King, to whom the men put to the torture for coining false money already owe the rack on which they are executed.[41]To-day the application of these new machines, which you are contemplating with so much interest, is inaugurated in our good city of Paris. The process is very simple, besides ingenious. When the pyre is well aflame,the patient is chained fast to the chair which you see there, dangling from the end of that cross-beam; then, the beam acting as a lever, he is, by slacking and pulling in the ropes at the other end, alternately sunk down into the flames and pulled out again, to be re-plunged, and so on, until, after being plunged and re-plunged, death ensues. Do you now understand the process?"
"Clearly, my reverend. Death by fire, as formerly practiced, put too speedy an end to the patient's torture."
"Altogether too speedy. A few minutes of torture and all was over, and the heretic breathed his last breath—"
"And now," broke in the Franc-Taupin, "thanks to this royal invention by our Sire Francis I, whom may God guard, the patient is afforded leisure to burn slowly—he can relish the fagot and inhale the flame! How superb and meritorious an invention!"
"It is that, my dear brother! Your expressions are correct—quite so—relishthe fagot—inhalethe flame. It is calculated that the agony of the patients will now last from twenty to thirty minutes.
"There are to-night three such pyres raised in Paris," the Superior of the Mathurins proceeded to explain. "The one before us, a second at the market place, and the third at the Cross-of-Trahoir. After our good Sire shall have assisted at the executions in this place, he will be able to visit the two others on his way back to the Louvre."[42]
The colloquy with the monk was interrupted by a great noise. From mouth to mouth ran the word: "Silence! Silence! The King wishes to speak!"
During the Franc-Taupin's conversation with the Mathurin, the King, his family, the court, the high dignitaries of the Church and of the kingdom had taken their seats on the platform. Anne of Pisseleu, Duchess of Etampes, who shared her favors between Francis I and his eldest son, drew the eyes of the multitude upon herself with the costliness of her apparel, which was as dazzling as her beauty, then at its prime. The royal courtesan cast from time to time a look of superb triumph upon her two rivals—the Queen of France, and Catherine De Medici, the wife of Henry, the King's son. The young Princess, at that season barely sixteen years of age, born in Florence, the daughter of Laurent De Medici and niece of Pope Clement VII, presented a perfect type of Italian beauty. Pale with chestnut hair, and white of skin, her black, passionate and crafty eyes frequently lingered surreptitiously with an expression of suppressed hatred uponthe Duchess of Etampes. Whenever their eyes met accidentally, Catherine De Medici had for her a charming smile. Conspicuous among the great seigneurs seated on the platform were the Constable of Montmorency, Duke Claude of Guise and his brother Cardinal John of Lorraine, the crapulous, dissolute Prince immortalized by Rabelais under the name of "Panurge." These Guises—Princes of Lorraine, ambitious, greedy, haughty and turbulent—whom Francis I at once flattered and curbed, inspired him with so much apprehension that he was wont to allude to them in his conversations with the Dauphin in these words: "Be on your guard; I shall leave you clothed in a coat, they will leave you in your shirt." In close proximity to the Guises stood John Lefevre, the disciple of Ignatius Loyola, chatting with great familiarity with Cardinal Duprat. Already the Jesuits had gained a footing at the court of Francis I; they dominated the Chancellor, the evil genius of that King. And what was that sovereign, physically and morally? Here is his picture, as left by the writers of his time: "Six feet high; broad-shouldered, wide of girth, round faced, fat, ruddy of complexion, with short cropped hair, long beard, and a prominent nose"—features that betray sensual appetites. The Sire walked towards his throne, swaying to right and left. The heavy colossus affected the gait and postures of a gladiator. He sat down, or rather dropped into his seat. All present on the platform rose to their feet with heads uncovered, the women excepted. He addressed himself to the Princes,the Princesses of his family, and the dignitaries of the Church and the kingdom:
"It will not seem strange to you, messieurs, if you do not find in me the mien, the countenance and the words, which I have been in the habit of being seen in and of using on previous occasions when I called you together. To-day, I do not address you as a King and Master addresses his subjects and servitors. I speak as being myself the subject and servitor of the King of Kings, of the Master of Masters—the All-powerful God.
"Some wicked blasphemers, people of little note and of less doctrine, have, contrary to the honor of the holy Sacrament, machinated, said, proffered and written many great blasphemies. On account thereof I have willed that this solemn procession be held, in order to invoke the grace of our Redeemer. I order that rigorous punishment be inflicted upon the heretics, as a warning to all others not to fall into the said damnable opinions, while admonishing the faithful to persevere in their doctrines, the wavering to become firm, and those who have strayed away to return to the path of the holy Catholic faith, in which they see me persevere, together with the spiritual prelates.
"Therefore, messieurs, I entreat and admonish you—let all my subjects keep watch and guard, not only over themselves, but also over their families, and especially over their children, and cause these to be so properly instructed that they may not fall into evil doctrines. I also order that each and all shall denounce whomsoever they may happen to know, or to suspect, of being adherents to the heresy, without regard to any bonds, whether of family or of friendship. As to myself," added Francis I in a thundering voice, "on the same principle that, had I an arm infected with putrefaction, I would cause it to be separated from my body, so if ever, should it unhappily so befall, any child of mine relapse into the said damnable heresies, I shall be ready to immolate, and to deliver him as a sacrifice to God."[43]
The discourse of Francis I was listened to amid religious silence, and applauded enthusiastically.
The prostituted pack of clergymen, courtiers and warriors who surrounded the Very Christian King knew the trick how to inherit the property of heretics. To burn or massacre the reformers was to coin money for the royal pack, the sovereign having the right to transmit to the good Catholics the wealth confiscated from condemned heretics. But, to kill the heretics, to torture them, to burn them alive, that did not satisfy the pious monarch. Human thought was to be shackled. The sovereign proceeded with his allocution:
"It is notorious that the pestilence of heresy spreads in all directions with the aid of the printing press. My Chancellor shall now read a decree issued by me abolishing the printing press in my estates under pain of death."
The Chancellor, Cardinal Duprat, read in a loud voice the decree of thatFather of Letters, as the court popinjays styled Francis I with egregious adulation:
"We, Francis I, by the grace of God, King of France.—It is our will, and we so order, and it pleases us to prohibit and forbid all printers in general, and of whatever rank and condition they may be,TO PRINT ANYTHING, UNDER PAIN OF HANGING."Such is our good pleasure.FRANCIS."[44]
"We, Francis I, by the grace of God, King of France.—It is our will, and we so order, and it pleases us to prohibit and forbid all printers in general, and of whatever rank and condition they may be,TO PRINT ANYTHING, UNDER PAIN OF HANGING.
"Such is our good pleasure.
FRANCIS."[44]
Come! One more effort; listen to the end of this tale, O, sons of Joel. My hand trembles as I trace these lines, my eyes are veiled in tears, my heart bleeds. But I must proceed with my story.
After the reading of the edict which prohibited the printing press in France under pain of death, the Criminal Lieutenant stepped forward to receive the orders of the Chancellor. He turned to the King, and the King commanded that the heretics be put to the torture and death without further delay. The gallant chat among the courtiers was hushed, and the eyes of the royal assembly turned towards the pyre.
The Franc-Taupin and Odelin stood in the midst of the Mathurins, close to the spot of execution. Not far from them were ranked the Cordeliers. Standing between Fra Girard and the Superior General of his Order, Hervé seemed to be the object of the dignitary's special solicitude. Both the sons of Christian Lebrenn were about to witness the execution. Their sister Hena, sentenced together with Ernest Rennepont to the flames as a relapsed and sacrilegious heretic, was to figure, along with her bridegroom,among the victims. The frightful spectacle passed before the eyes of Odelin like a vision of death. Without making a single motion, without experiencing a shiver, without dropping a tear, petrified with terror, the lad gazed—like him, who, a prey to some stupefying dream, remains motionless, stretched upon his bed. It was a horrible nightmare!
The order to proceed having gone from Francis I and been transmitted to the Mathurin monks, several of these proceeded to the portico of the Basilica of Notre Dame, whither the culprits had first been taken to make theamende honorableon their knees before the church. One of the patients had his tongue cut out for preferring charges against the Catholic clergy on his way from prison to the parvise.[45]The Mathurins led the victims in procession to the pyre. As they approached, all the religious Orders intoned in a sonorous voice the funeral psalmody—
De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine!
The heretics, to the number of six, marched two by two, bareheaded and barefooted, holding lighted tapers in their hands. John Dubourg and his friend Etienne Laforge led; behind them came St. Ernest-Martyr supporting the architect Poille. The wretched man had his tongue cut out. Blood streamed from his mouth, and dyed his long white shirt red. Mary La Catelle and Hena, called in religion Sister St. Frances-in-the-Tomb, came next. Their feet were bare, their hair hung down loose upon their shoulders.They were clad in long white shifts held at the waist with a cord. Hena pressed against her heart a little pocket Bible which Christian had printed in the establishment of Robert Estienne, and which she was allowed to keep. It was a cherished volume from which the Lebrenn family often read together of an evening, and which recalled to Hena a whole world of sweet remembrances.
Hervé recognized his sister among the condemned heretics. A thrill ran through his frame, a deadly pallor overcast his countenance, and, turning his face away, he leaned for support on the arm of Fra Girard. The executioners had set fire to the fagots, which soon presented the sight of a sheet of roaring flames. As the prisoners arrived at the place of their torture and death, and caught sight of the seats swaying over the lambent flames, they readily surmised the cruel torments to which they were destined. In her terror, poor Hena began to emit heartrending cries, and she clung to the arm of Mary La Catelle. The taper and the little pocket Bible which she held rolled to the ground. The holy book fell upon a burning ember and began to blaze. One of the executioners stamped out the fire with his heels and threw the book aside. It fell near the Franc-Taupin. Josephin stooped down quickly, picked up the precious token and dropped it into the pocket of his wide frock. Petrified with terror, Odelin only gazed into space. The frightful cries of his sister were hardly heard by him, drowned as they were by the buzz and throb of the arteries in his own temples. The executioners were at work. Hena and the other five martyrs were seized,placed in their respective seats, and chained fast. All the six levers were then set in motion at once, and dipped over the fire. It was a spectacle, an atrocious spectacle—well worthy of a King! The victims were plunged into the furnace, then raised up high in the air with clothes and hair ablaze, to be again swallowed up in the flaming abyss, again to be raised out of it, in order once more to be precipitated into its fiery embrace![46]
Odelin still gazed, motionless, his arms crossed over his breast, and rigid as if in a state of catalepsy. The Franc-Taupin looked at his unhappy niece Hena every time the lever raised her in the air, and also every time it hurled her down into the abyss of flames. He counted theplungings, as the Superior of the Mathurins humorously called them. He counted twenty-five of them. At the first few descents poor Hena twisted and writhed in her seat while emitting piercing cries; in the course of a few subsequent descents the cries subsided into moans; when she disappeared in the burning crater for the sixteenth time she was heard to moan no more. She was either expiring or dead. The machine continued to dip twenty-five times—it was only a blackened, half naked corpse, the head of which hung loose and beat against the back of the seat. The Franc-Taupin followed also with his eyes Ernest Rennepont, who was placed face to face with Hena. The unhappy youth did not emit a single cry during his torment, he did not even utter a wail. His eyes remained fixed upon his bride. Etienne Laforge, John Dubourg and Mary La Catelle gave proof of the sublimest courage. They were heard singing psalms amidst the flames that devoured them. Of these latter, only Anthony Poille, whose tongue had been cut out, was silent. The death rattle finally silenced the voice of the heretics. It was but charred corpses that the executioners were raising and dropping.
When the frightful vision ceased, Odelin dropped to the ground, a prey to violent convulsions. Two monks helped the Franc-Taupin carry the young novice into a neighboring house. But before leaving the spot of Hena's torture and death, Josephin stopped an instant before the brazier which was finishing the work of consuming the corpses. There the Franc-Taupin pronounced the following silent imprecation:
"Hate and execration for the papist executioners, Kings, priests and monks! War, implacable war upon this infamous religion that tortures and burns to death those who are refractory to its creed! Reprisals and vengeance! By my sister's death; by the agony of her daughter, plunged twenty-five times into the fiery furnace—I swear to put twenty-five papist priests to death!"
After Odelin recovered consciousness, uncle and nephew resumed their way to the place of refuge on St. Honoré Street, where Robert Estienne was found waiting for them. The generous friend was proscribed. The next day hewas to wander into exile to Geneva. It was with great difficulty that Princess Marguerite had obtained grace for his life. He informed Odelin of his father's flight to La Rochelle and of Bridget's death. He pressed upon Josephin the necessity of leaving Paris with Odelin and proceeding on the spot to La Rochelle, lest he fall into the clutches of the police spies who were on the search for them. At the same time he placed in Josephin's hands the necessary funds for the journey, and took charge of notifying Master Raimbaud should he also be willing to take refuge in La Rochelle.
It was agreed between the three that the Franc-Taupin and his nephew would wait two days for Master Raimbaud at Etampes. The directions of Robert Estienne were instantly put into execution. That same night Odelin and Josephin left Paris, and reached Etampes without difficulty, thanks to the monastic garb which cleared the way for them. At Etampes Master Raimbaud and his wife joined them before the expiration of the second day, and the four immediately took the road to La Rochelle, where they arrived on February 17, 1535. The four fugitives inquired for the dwelling of Christian Lebrenn. His family, alas! was now reduced to three members—father, son and the brave Josephin. The Franc-Taupin delivered to his brother-in-law the pocket Bible which he picked up near the pyre, the tomb of Hena—that Bible is now added to the relics of the Lebrenn family.
END OF VOLUME ONE.
Thirty-four years have elapsed since the martyrdom of Hena Lebrenn, Ernest Rennepont and the other heretics who were burned alive before the parvise of Notre Dame, in the presence of King Francis I and his court on January 21, 1535. To-day, I, Antonicq Lebrenn, son of Odelin and grandson of Christian the printer, proceed with the narrative broken off above.
Safely established at La Rochelle, Christian was joined in that city by his son Odelin and Josephin, the Franc-Taupin. Already shattered in body on account of the profound sorrow caused by the death of his wife Bridget and the revelation concerning the incestuous attempt made by his son Hervé, the news of the frightful death of his daughter Hena overwhelmed my grandfather. He did not long survive that last blow. He languished about a year longer, wrote the narrative of which the following one is the sequel, and died on December 17 of the same year at La Rochelle, where he exercised his printer's trade at the establishment of Master Auger, a friend of Robert Estienne. The latter himself ended his days in exile at Geneva.
Odelin Lebrenn, my father, devoted himself, as in his youth, to the armorer's trade. He worked in the establishment of Master Raimbaud, who also settled down inLa Rochelle in 1535. The old armorer drove a lucrative trade in his beautiful arms, with England. Thanks to their energy and their municipal franchises, the Rochelois, partisans of the Reformation by an overwhelming majority, and protected by the well-nigh impregnable position of their city, experienced but slightly the persecutions that dyed red the other provinces of Gaul until the day when the Protestants took up arms against their oppressors. The hour of revolt having sounded, the Rochelois were bound to be the first to take the field. Having married in 1545 Marcienne, the sister of Captain Mirant, one of the ablest and most daring sailors of La Rochelle, my father had three children from this marriage—Theresa, born in 1546; me, Antonicq, born in 1549; and Marguerite, born in 1551. I embraced the profession of my father, who, upon the death of Master Raimbaud, deceased without heirs, succeeded to the latter's business.
About four years ago, the hardship of the times brought to La Rochelle, where, together with other Protestants he sought refuge, Louis Rennepont, a nephew of Brother St. Ernest-Martyr, the bridegroom of Hena, who was burned together with her. Informed by his father of the tragic death of the Augustinian monk, Louis Rennepont conceived a horror for the creed of Rome, in whose name such atrocities were committed, and after his father's death he entered the Evangelical church. An advocate in the parliament of Paris, and indicted for heresy, he escaped the stake by his flight to La Rochelle. One day, as he strolled along the quay before our house, my father's sign—Odelin Lebrenn, Armorer—caught his eye. Hestepped in to inquire into our relationship with Hena Lebrenn. From us he gathered the information that Hena was his uncle's wife, married to him by a Reformed pastor. Louis Rennepont, from that time almost a relative of ours, continued to visit the house. He soon seemed smitten with the grace and virtues of my sister Theresa. His love was reciprocated. He was a young man of noble heart, and of a modest and industrious disposition. Stripped of his patrimony by the sentence of heresy, he earned his living at La Rochelle with his profession of advocate. My father appreciated the merits of Louis Rennepont, and granted him my sister Theresa. They were married in 1568. Their happiness justifies my father's hopes.
My youngest sister Marguerite disappeared from the paternal home at the age of eight, under rather mysterious circumstances which I shall here state.
Since his establishment at La Rochelle, my father was animated by a lively desire to take us all—mother, sisters and myself—to Brittany, on a kind of pious pilgrimage to the scene of our family's origin, near the sacred stones of Karnak. The journey by land was short, but the religious war included in those days Brittany also in its ravages. My father feared to risk himself and family among the warring factions. His brother-in-law Mirant, the sailor, having to cross from La Rochelle to Dover, proposed that my father take ship with him on his brigantine. The vessel was to touch at Vannes, the port nearest Karnak. Our pilgrimage accomplished, we were to set sail for Dover, whither my father frequently consignedarms, and where he would have the opportunity of a personal interview with his correspondent in that place. After that, my uncle Mirant was to return to France with a cargo of merchandise. Our absence would not exceed three weeks. My father accepted the proposition with joy. Shortly before the day of our departure my sister Marguerite was taken sick. The distemper was not dangerous, but it prevented her from joining in the trip, the day for which was set and could not be postponed. My parents left her behind in the charge of her god-mother, an excellent woman, the wife of John Barbot, a master copper-smith. We departed for Vannes on board the brigantine of Captain Mirant. My sister Marguerite recovered soon after. Her god-mother frequently took her out for a walk beyond the ramparts. One day the child was playing with other little girls near a clump of trees, and strayed away from Dame Barbot. When her god-mother looked for her to take her home, the child was nowhere to be found. The most diligent searches, instituted for weeks and months after the occurrence, were all in vain. The child had been abducted; the kidnappers remained undiscovered. Marguerite was wept and her loss grieved over by us all.
Our pilgrimage to Karnak, the cradle of the family of Joel, left a profound, an indelible impression upon me. I shall later return to some of the consequences of that trip. Captain Mirant, my mother's brother, a widower after only a few years' marriage, had a daughter named Cornelia. I loved her from early infancy as a sister. As we grew up our affection for each other waxed warmer. Our parentsexpected to see us man and wife. Cornelia gave promise by her virtue and bravery of resembling one of those women belonging to the heroic age of Gaul, and of approving herself worthy of her ancestry. Having lost her mother when still a child, my cousin occasionally accompanied her father on his rough sea voyages. The character of the young girl, like her beauty, presented a mixture of virility, grace and strength. At the time when this narrative commences, Cornelia was sixteen years of age, myself twenty. We were betrothed, and our families had decided that we were to be united in wedlock three or four years later.
My grand-uncle the Franc-Taupin yielded, shortly after his arrival at La Rochelle, to the solicitations of my grandfather Christian, who, feeling his approaching dissolution, entreated the brave soldier of adventure not to separate himself from his nephew, soon surely to be an orphan. The Franc-Taupin adjourned the execution of his resolution to avenge the death of Bridget and Hena. He remained near my father Odelin and enrolled himself with the archers of the city. As a consequence of our family sorrows, he gave up his former disorderly life. The guardianship of his nephew, then still a lad, brought him new duties. He earned by his merit the post of sergeant of the city militia. But when the massacre of Vassy caused the Protestants to rise from one end of Gaul to the other, and these finally ran to arms, the Franc-Taupin departed to join the insurgents. He was elected the chief of his band, and proved himself pitiless in his acts of reprisal. He had sworn to revenge the papist atrocities committed upon hissister and niece. The provinces of Anjou and Saintonge took a large part in the religious ware that broke out. My father, although married several years before, left his establishment to enlist himself among the volunteers of the Protestant army, and deported himself bravely under the orders of Coligny, Condé, Lanoüe and Dandelot. He was twice wounded. I accompanied him in the second armed uprising of 1568, when, alas! I had the misfortune of losing him. I took the field at his side as a volunteer, leaving in La Rochelle my mother, my sister Theresa, then the wife of Louis Rennepont, and my cousin Cornelia, who desired to join her father, Captain Mirant, on a cruise against the royal ships, while I was to combat on land in the army of Coligny.
The Abbey of St. Severin, situated on the Limoges road not far from the town of Malraye, belonged to the Order of St. Bernard. Before the beginning of the religious wars, the abbey was a splendid monument, built by the hands ofJacques Bonhomme,[47]like so many other monasteries that dot the soil of France. As a church vassal, Jacques Bonhomme transported either upon his own back, or, to the still greater injury of field agriculture, with the help of oxen, the stones, the lumber, the sand and the lime requisite for the erection of these pretentious monastic residences. He thereupon carried to the idling monks the tithes on his corn, on his cattle, on his poultry, on his eggs, on his butter, on his wine, on his oil, on the fleece of his sheep, on his honey, on his linen, in short, the prime of all that he produced with the sweat of his brow. Then came the corvee[48]—to till the convent lands, to sow, weed and gather the crops thereon; to keep the convent roads in repair; to irrigate its meadows; to dredge its ponds; to serve as watchman; and finally to lay down his life in its defense against the roving bands of vagabonds and robbers.In return for all these services—when either old, or sick, or exhausted with toil, Jacques Bonhomme could work no more—he was allowed to hold out his bowl at the gate of the monastery, when the monks would occasionally deign to fill it with greasy water from their kitchen. When the church vassal was at his last breath, stretched upon the straw in his hut, the good Fathers came to assist and solace him with theirOremus.[49]"God created man for sorrow and poverty," they would say to him; "you have suffered—God is pleased; you shall enjoy a famous seat in Paradise. Yours will be the delights of the celestial mansion."
When the spirit of the Reformation penetrated some of the provinces, Jacques Bonhomme began to lend an ear to a new theory. "Poor, ignorant people, poor duped and defrauded people," said the pastors of the new church; "offerings to saints, masses, and purgatory are idolatries, tricks, frauds, sacrilegious inventions with the aid of which the priests and monks appropriate to themselves the silver laid by fools upon the altars and at the feet of wooden and stone images. Good men! Read the sacred Book. You will discover that God forbids the traffic on which thousands of frocked and tonsured idlers grow fat." In sight of such a revelation, based as it was upon the texts of Holy Writ, Jacques Bonhomme said to himself in his own rustic common sense: "’Tis so! I have been cheated, duped and robbed all these centuries by the Church of Rome!" Thereupon Jacques Bonhomme turned himselfloose upon the convents and churches; he overthrew, broke and profaned the altars, the relics and the statues of saints that had so long been the objects of his veneration.
On the other hand, in the provinces where the population remained under the mental domination of the clergy, Jacques Bonhomme turned himself loose upon the houses of Huguenots, set them on fire, slaughtered the men, violated the women, and dashed the brains of old men and children against the walls.
Occupied before the religious wars by the Bernardine monks, the Abbey of St. Severin had been repeatedly sacked, like so many other monastic resorts in the districts of Poitou, Berri and Limousin. Reared on an admirable site—the slope of a hill shaded by a thick forest—the convent clearly revealed the traces of a sack, freshly undergone: shattered windows, doors broken open or torn from their hinges, portions of the walls blackened by fire, and the capitals of the columns mutilated by the discharge of arquebuses and the fury of the devastators.
One day, towards the middle of the month of June, 1569, as the sun drew near the western horizon, the silence around the ruins of the Abbey of St. Severin was disturbed by the arrival of two squadrons of light cavalry belonging to the Catholic army. The cavalcade escorted a long convoy of pack-mules, the men in charge of whom wore the colors and arms of the royal house of France and of the house of Lorraine. The convoy entered the yard of the cloister. The lackeys unloaded the mules and took possession of the deserted abbey. True to their name, thehorsemen were armed in the lightest manner, with Burgundian helmets and breastplates, together with armlets and gauntlets, besides thigh-pieces partly covered by their boots; small arquebuses, only three feet long and well polished, hung from their saddle pommels, and short swords and iron maces completed their outfit.
The armed corps had for its commandant Count Neroweg of Plouernel, a man beyond sixty years of age, of rough, haughty and martial mien. From head to foot he was covered with armor damascened in gold. His Turkish silver-grey horse was cased at the neck, chest and crupper in light flexible sheets of chiseled and richly gilt steel. Its orange-colored velvet housings and saddle were ornamented with green and silver lace, the heraldic colors of the house of Plouernel. The jacket or floating coat that the Count wore above his armor was also of orange-colored velvet, and likewise embroidered with green and silver thread. The commandant of the detachment alighted from his horse; ordered the monastery to be searched; set up watches and sent out pickets over the principal roads that led to the place. He then remounted and rode away in the direction of Limoges, escorted by only one of the two squadrons.
Immediately after the departure of the Count, the quartermasters of Queen Catherine De Medici, assisted by her serving-men and those of Charles of Guise, Cardinal of Lorraine, fell to work on the task of imparting to the devastated halls of the abbey the most presentable appearance possible, with the view of lodging the Queen and the prelate whose arrival they expected. The mules, to the number of more than sixty, carried a complete traveling equipment on their pack-saddles, or in large trunks strapped to their backs—tent cloths, lambrequins, tapestry, easels, dismantled beds, curtains, mattresses, silver vessels, besides an abundance of eatables and wines with the necessary kitchen utensils, and even ice, in leather bags. The valets set to work with a will, and with a promptitude truly marvelous they tapestried the apartments destined for the Queen and for the Cardinal by hanging rich cloths, provided in advance with gilt hooks, from nails that they deftly drove along the upper edges of the walls. They then fitted out the two rooms with the necessary furniture brought by the mules. A chamber, separated from that of the Queen by a small passage was likewise prepared for the reception of the sovereign's four maids of honor. The pages, the knights, the chamberlains, the officers and the equerries were all quartered, as in time of war, in the outhouses of the abbey, the vast kitchen of which was invaded by the master cook and his aides, who prepared supper, while the stewards spread the royal table in the refectory of the monastery. Shortly before sunset forerunners announced the approach of the Queen. Upon the heels of the forerunners came a vanguard, and immediately after, several armed squadrons, in the center of which was the royal litter, enclosed with hangings of gold-embroidered violet velvet and carried by two mules, likewise in trappings of violet velvet. A second litter, not so richly decorated and empty at the time, was reserved for those maids ofhonor who might tire of riding. These maids, however, together with their governess, had preferred to cover the distance on the backs of their richly caparisoned palfreys, the necks, flanks and cruppers of which were decked in embroidered velvet emblazoned with the arms of the royal house of France. Pages and equerries followed the maids of honor. The rear was brought up by the litter of the Cardinal of Lorraine, wrapped in purple taffeta hangings and surrounded by several leading dignitaries and Princes of the Church.
Before entering the yard of the abbey the prelate put his head out of his litter, and ordered one of his gentlemen-in-waiting to summon before him the commandant of the escort. Charles of Guise, Cardinal of Lorraine, was at that time forty-six years of age. His otherwise handsome features, now marred by debauchery, reflected shrewdness, craft, and above all haughtiness, these being the dominant traits of his character. Count Neroweg of Plouernel, who was summoned by the prelate, approached the litter.
"Monsieur," said the Cardinal in an imperious tone, "do you answer for the safety of the Queen and myself?"
"Yes, Monsieur Cardinal."
"Have you taken sufficient precautions against any surprise on the part of the Huguenot band known by the name of the 'Avengers of Israel' and captained by a felon nicknamed the 'One-Eyed'?"
"Monsieur Cardinal, I answer with my life for the safety of the Queen. The Huguenot forces need not alarm us. His Majesty's army covers our escort. MarshalTavannes is notified of the Queen's arrival; he has undoubtedly kept clear the route followed by her Majesty. I told your Eminence before that it would have been better to push straight ahead until we joined the army of Marshal Tavannes, instead of spending the night at this abbey."
"Do you imagine the Queen and I can travel like a couple of troopers, without alighting for rest?"
"Monsieur Cardinal," replied Count Neroweg of Plouernel haughtily, "it is not for others to remind me of the respect I owe her Majesty."
"Monsieur!" exclaimed the Cardinal angrily, "you seem to forget that you are addressing a Prince of the house of Lorraine. Be more respectful!"
"Monsieur Cardinal, if you know the history of your house, I know the history of mine. Pepin of Heristal, the grandfather of Charlemagne, from whom you pretend to descend, was but a rather insignificant specimen when the house of Neroweg, illustrious in Germany long before the Frankish conquest, was already established in Gaul for two centuries on its Salic domains of Auvergne, which it held from the sword of one of its own ancestors, a leude of Clovis—"
"Lower your tone, monsieur! Do not oblige me to remind you that Colonel Plouernel, your brother, is one of the military chiefs of the rebels who have risen in arms against the Church and the Crown."
The colloquy was interrupted at this point by the arrival of a page who hurried to announce to the Cardinal the entry of the Queen into the cloister.
Leaving Count Neroweg under the stigma of insinuated treason, the prelate stepped down from his litter in order to hasten to the Queen's side and render her his homage. Catherine De Medici was then in her fiftieth year. Not now was she, as on that fateful January 21, 1535, merely a Princess, and the young butt of the arrows of the Duchess of Etampes. Since then, Francis I had died and had been succeeded to the throne by her husband as Henry II, who, dying later from the consequences of an accident at a tourney, left her Queen Regent—absolute monarch. In point of appearance also Catherine De Medici was now her complete self. She preserved the traces of her youthful beauty. A slight corpulence impaired in nothing the majesty of her stature. Her shoulders, arms and hands—all of a dazzling whiteness—would, thanks to the perfection of their lines, have presented a noble model for a sculptor. Her hair preserved its pristine blackness, and was on this evening covered by the hood of a damask mantle, violet like her trailing robe, which exposed a front of brass. Cunning, perfidy, cruelty, were stamped upon her striking countenance. Catherine De Medici leaned upon the arm of her lover, the Cardinal of Lorraine, and entered the abbey, followed by her maids of honor, a bevy of ravishing young girls.
The maids of honor of Catherine De Medici indulged in these days, and by express orders of their mistress, in the strangest of doings. The ironical title was given them of the "Queen's Flying Squadron." Indeed, according as her policy might require, Catherine De Medici commanded hermaids of honor to prostitute themselves and take for their lovers the young seigneurs whom she wished to attract to her party, or whose secrets she wished to fathom. Occasionally the Queen even pointed out to her nymphs such court folks as she wished to be rid of. In such instances, René, the court perfumer, prepared the most subtle poisons and the surest to boot, wherewith the young maids impregnated the gloves of their lovers, or the petals of a flower, or smelling boxes, or the sugar plums which they offered to the victims designated to them. It was a customary saying of Catherine De Medici to her new female recruits: "My little one, you are free to worship at the shrine of Diana, or at that of Venus, but if you sacrifice to the little god Cupid, have an eye to the breadth of your waist."[50]
After supper the Cardinal of Lorraine remained alone with the Queen. The maids of honor entertained themselves in a chamber adjoining the royal apartment. There were four of them, each of a different type of beauty. The youngest was eighteen years of age. A veneer of grace and elegance concealed the precocious degradation of the four beauties. They were superbly dressed. Catherine De Medici loved luxury; on their travels the members of her suite took with them, laden in trunks strapped to the backs of mules, complete outfits of splendid apparel. One of the maids of honor, Blanche of Verceil, was temporarily absent. Diana of Sauveterre, the senior of the Queen's squadron, was a white and pink beauty of the blonde type. She wore a blue waist ornamented with open gold lace-work;her coif, made of white taffeta and surmounted with little curled feathers of blue and silver, marked with its point the middle of her forehead, whence, widening in two rounded wings to either side over her temples, it exposed an opulent growth of blonde hair combed back from the roots. Clorinde of Vaucernay, a dainty little creature with black hair and blue eyes, was clad in a waist and skirt of pale yellow damask threaded with silver; her bonnet, made of the same material, was embroidered with pearls. Finally, Anna Bell, the youngest and most beautiful of all, seemed to unite in her single person the different charms of the other maids of honor. Elegant of stature and with a skin of dazzling white, her thick light-brown hair contrasted marvelously with her eye-brows, jet-black like the long eyelashes which partly veiled her large, soft, brown eyes. The maid's rose-colored satin coat fell in graceful folds upon her robe of white satin. Her pink bonnet was surmounted by little white frizzled feathers. Anna Bell seemed to be in a mood of profound melancholy. Seated slightly apart from her companions, with her elbows leaning on a window that opened upon the enclosure of the abbey, she dreamily contemplated the starry sky, lending but an absentminded attention to the conversation of her sister maids of honor.
"Did I understand you to say there were philters that could make men amorous?" asked Clorinde of Vaucernay.
"Yes, indeed," replied Diana of Sauveterre. "The effectiveness of certain philters is indisputable. In support of what I say I shall quote Madam Noirmoutier. Shesucceeded in pouring a few drops of a certain liquid into Monsieur Langeais's glass. Before the repast was over, the young seigneur was crazy in love with her."
"And yet there are people who remain incredulous concerning the efficacy of love potions," returned the first speaker. "What about you, Anna Bell, are you among the unbelievers?"
"Sincere love is the only philter that can effect prodigies," Anna Bell sighed as she answered.
At that moment Blanche of Verceil joined her companions. Hers was a masculine, brown-complexioned and tall type of beauty. The maid's abundant black hair and thick eyebrows would have imparted the stamp of harshness to her face were it not for the smile of merry raillery that habitually flitted over her cherry-red lips, which were accentuated by a light-brown down. She held in her hand several sheets of paper, and said gaily to her companions:
"I have come to share with you, my darlings, a bit of good luck that has befallen me."
"Good! Distribute your good things," cried Diana of Sauveterre.
"This morning, just as we were mounting our horses," began Blanche of Verceil, "a page arrived from Paris, sent to me by my dear Brissac. The page brought me sugar plums, fresh flowers wonderfully preserved, and a letter full of love. But that is not all. The letter, which I could not read until a few minutes ago, contained a treasure—an inestimable treasure—the newestpasquils,the most daring and most biting that have yet appeared! They are a true intellectual treat."
"What a windfall! And against whom are they directed?" asked Diana of Sauveterre.
"Innocent creature that you are!" Blanche of Verceil returned. "Against whom can they be written if not against the Queen, against the Cardinal, against the court, and against the maids of honor of the Queen's 'Flying Squadron'? It is all of us who are the butts of the satirists."
"Those vicious people treat us with scant courtesy," exclaimed the black-haired Clorinde of Vaucernay. "But, at any rate, we are sung in superb and royal company. By Venus and Cupid, we should feel proud."
"Come, Blanche, read us the verses," Diana of Sauveterre suggested. "The Queen may send for us any moment before she retires."
Instead of complying at once with Diana's request, Blanche of Verceil pointed to Anna Bell, who remained in silent abstraction, and in a low voice said to her companions: "Decidedly, the little one is in love. Her ears do not prick up at the sound of that tickling wordpasquil—a divine tid-bit of wit and wickedness the salt of which is worth a hundred fold, a thousand fold more than all the sugar of the candies."
"I wager she is dreaming awake of the German Prince of whom she speaks in her slumbers. How indiscreet sleep is! Poor thing, she thinks her secret is well kept," rejoined Clorinde of Vaucernay.
"Blanche, the pasquils," again cried Diana, impatiently. "I burn with curiosity to hear them."
"Honor to whom honor is due. We shall commence with our good dame the Queen;" and with these words Blanche read:
The maids of honor broke out into peals of laughter. Anna Bell, still pensively seated apart at the open casement, let her eyes wander over space, a stranger to the hilarity of her companions. She paid no attention to the reading of the verses.
"You will yet see, in the event of our good Dame Catherine's being taken unawares and swallowing some of the sugar plums destined for her victims, that the rascally dogs may fear the remains of our venerable sovereign are poisoned—and will run away from her carcass," said Clorinde of Vaucernay.
"That pasquil should be read to the Queen. If she is in a good humor she will have a good laugh over it," put in Diana of Sauveterre.
"Indeed, few things amuse her more than bold and witty verses," acquiesced Blanche. "Do you remember how, when she read the 'Marvelous Discourses' from the satirical pen of the famous printer Robert Estienne, the good dame laughed heartily and said: 'There is some truth in that! But they do not know it all—how would it be if they were more fully posted!'[52]Now, listen. After the Queen, Monsieur the Cardinal, that is a matter of course. He is supposed to be dead—they wish he were—that also is natural. Here is his epitaph written in advance:
"Poor Monsieur Cardinal!" exclaimed Diana of Sauveterre. "What a villainous calumny! He, such a poltroon as he, for a Guise—he is the most craven of all cravens—to compare him with a bolt of war!"
"No, not a bolt, but a torch," Blanche corrected. "He rests satisfied with holding the torch of war, like Madam Gondi, the governess of the royal Princes and Princesses, held the torch of Venus to light the amours of the lateKing Henry II, whose worthy go-between, or, to speak more plainly, whose Cyprian, she was."
"As for me," said Clorinde of Vaucernay, "I highly commend the Queen for having placed, as governess over her children, her own husband's go-between. It is a sort of hereditary office which can not be entrusted to hands too worthy, and should be perpetuated in titled families."