Read Ebook: Villegagnon: A Tale of the Huguenot Persecution by Kingston William Henry Giles

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Ebook has 153 lines and 15879 words, and 4 pages

"You are undoubtedly guilty of the crime alleged against you, Monsieur Lieutenant," said the governor, after consulting in an undertone with the two priests at his side. "Your being a foreigner, as you are in the service of France, will not avail you. You will have two days given you to consider whether you will recant, and if not, your sentence is `That you be bound to a stake, with fire kindled around you till your body is consumed, and your soul is carried off by the emissaries of Satan, who are certainly waiting for it.'"

Nigel listened calmly while the governor was pronouncing his terrible doom--one to which the Church of Rome had already condemned tens of thousands of human beings for simply reading the Bible.

The priests had of late erected close to the church a small building which they intended should serve as an inquisitorial prison where they might keep in confinement any heretics on whom they were desirous of expending their religious zeal. To this place Nigel was taken, and thrust into one of its dungeons built especially under the priests' directions. It was, in truth, little better than a pit dug in the ground, with a small aperture towards the roof to admit light. On this occasion they had obtained a party of soldiers from the governor to guard their prison.

Nigel had not been long shut up in this dreadful place when night came on, and he was left in total darkness, with only a bundle of dry grass on which to lie down and rest himself. Brave as he was, he could not but look forward with painful feelings to the fate prepared for him. He thought, however, more of his young wife and the poor count. He feared, too, that the hatred of the priests might drag them into the same fate. Perhaps even now they were seized and accused of crimes for which their tyrannical oppressors might condemn them to death. Sleep was impossible, while the darkness prevented him from pacing up and down his narrow cell, which would have been some relief to his tortured mind. He felt for the pile of grass and lay down, considering that it would be wiser to try and obtain some rest to prepare himself for the future trials he would have to go through. The sudden destruction of all his happiness, separation from his beloved Constance, and the agonising death speedily to overtake him, made him have recourse to prayer to obtain that strength ever awarded to those who seek it from on high.

Nigel had been sleeping for some time, when, suddenly awaking, he became conscious that some one was in the vault, by hearing a footstep and a low sound of breathing. A feeling of horror for a moment ran through him. Could it be an assassin sent by the governor or priests to put him secretly to death, and so to save themselves from carrying out the sentence passed on him, from which even they might shrink, aware of the horror it would create among the greater number of the colonists, who, not having been educated in their school, would, whatever their religious sentiments, look at it with disapprobation. Still, for himself it would matter nothing, except being deprived of a few hours of life, and he would thus be saved from the tortures of the flames. Such thoughts rapidly passed through his mind; but in another moment he had nerved himself, like a brave man, to meet whatever might occur. His very natural feeling was to struggle desperately with his supposed assassin. He might even gain the victory and thus make his escape. Full of youth and strength, he felt that it would be better far to die struggling bravely, should the guard set upon him, than to sink down tamely where he lay. Springing to his feet, he stood with his arms prepared for defence.

"Hush!" said a voice. "I thought you were still sleeping. Make no noise--give me your hand and come quickly; there is not a moment to lose."

Nigel knew by the voice and the mode of expression that it was the Indian Cora who spoke. He put out his hand and felt it grasped by her small and delicate fingers. To his surprise he found himself led almost instantly into a narrow passage, with room sufficient only for one person to pass through at a time.

"Stoop low," said Cora, as she conducted him into apparently a small alcove on one side. "Step back and remain a moment," she added, disengaging her hand, immediately after which he heard a grating sound as if a heavy stone were being moved.

Quickly returning, she again took his hand, and led him down a slope of some feet, and then again along a level; when once more they ascended another slope, at the top of which, mounting a few steps, he found himself standing in the open air, surrounded by a thick grove, beyond which he could distinguish the wooden tower of the church. Once more Cora desired him to remain, while she was engaged in closing up the aperture through which they had emerged. Putting her finger on her lips to enforce silence, she once more led him forward at a rapid rate, keeping under the shelter of the trees; where the gloom was such that he could not possibly by himself have made his way. At length they reached a small beach with low cliffs on either side. Keeping under their shade they proceeded till he discovered a canoe concealed beneath a rock. Cora, without requiring his assistance, quickly launched it, and then again taking his hand, bade him, in a whisper, step in and lie down his length at the bottom. Instantly grasping a paddle, she began to make her way rapidly from the shore. She had not got far, when a voice from the cliff hailed, ordering the canoe immediately to come back. Cora took no notice, but paddled on with renewed efforts. Again the person on the cliff shouted, and threatened to fire if his orders were not obeyed. A few seconds only had passed when a shot whistled close to the canoe. Cora bravely paddled on. The man on the cliff must have reloaded quickly, for soon afterwards another shot came, but happily without touching the canoe. The darkness must have soon hid so small an object from the soldier's sight, though the shore was still visible. A third and fourth shot followed, but still wider of the mark. Cora did not relax her efforts till they had got more than half way across the harbour. She then stopped for a moment to listen, but no sound of oars indicated that they were pursued.

"We are safe now," she said, "and you may raise yourself; but don't attempt to stand up. Thankful I am that we have escaped. I have no fear for myself, but I dreaded every moment lest you might have been retaken by your cruel enemies. My brother gave me the task to do, and I gladly accepted it. He himself has gone to summon our tribe to arms, having resolved to rescue you by force had my undertaking failed."

"I am most grateful to you," said Nigel. "But by what wonderful means were you able to enter my prison and liberate me without apparent difficulty?"

Nigel had no doubt that the object of the passage was to enable the priests either to work on the minds of the prisoners by pretended miraculous appearances; or else, should they desire to murder one of their captives, to convey the body secretly away. He, indeed, knew that such arrangements were common throughout Europe, and that numberless impostures had thus been carried out.

They quickly reached the shore, which had of late been entirely deserted by the Tamoyos, who had, influenced by what had been told them by Tecumah, moved some distance further inland. Cora, who feared that the direction they had taken would be suspected by the French, when Nigel's escape was discovered, advised that they should go forward till he was safe among her tribe.

Dark as the night was, she knew her way, and, light and active, she led him forward at a rapid rate. They had gone some distance, when she exclaimed, "Here come my brother and his people. They will indeed rejoice to find you free."

Nigel was welcomed by Tecumah and his party. They were on their way to the shore, intending immediately to cross, and hoping before daylight to reach the prison. Tecumah, in his anxiety to save Nigel, had induced his followers to swear that they would rescue him by force if they could succeed in no other way. Their intention was to attack the guards and break open the prison, expecting to get off again before the governor and his people had time to pursue them. Nigel assured them how thankful he was that they had not been compelled to resort to such a proceeding. Too probably the governor and priests would wreak their vengeance on his wife and father-in-law. As it was, he felt very anxious as to what would happen when his escape was discovered. It would certainly baffle the sagacity of the priests to ascertain how it had been accomplished, and would undoubtedly make them more savage, as they might naturally suspect that some of their own followers had proved treacherous, and yet not know whom to accuse.

"They shall not injure the count or any of our friends," exclaimed Tecumah. "We can distinguish between the true men and the bad. The last, as God's Word tells us, are always the most numerous, and it shall be our care to defend the innocent and weaker ones. My people shall remain ready with their canoes to cross over at a moment's notice, while I go to the island and learn what has taken place."

Nigel expressed his wish to accompany the Tamoyos, but both Tecumah and Cora urged him to proceed to a further distance, as, should the governor suspect where he had gone, he would in all probability send an expedition over to bring him back, and as they would refuse to give him up, an open rupture would be the consequence. Nigel at last agreed to accompany Cora to her father's abode, which was above five miles from the shore of the harbour, while Tecumah carried out his proposed project.

Leaving his people encamped on the shore with their canoes ready to embark, he paddled across towards the island. He was well aware of the risk he was running, for the governor, should he suspect that he had been instrumental in rescuing Nigel, would in all probability seize him and shut him up in prison. He had taken the precaution, however, of charging the next chief in common after him to come across and demand his liberation.

Daylight broke as he reached the place at which he was accustomed to land. He proceeded at once to the house of the count, who was already on foot, and he had the satisfaction of giving him tidings of Nigel's safety.

"The knowledge that he is free will restore life to my poor daughter," said the count. "But we are still in the power of the governor and those revengeful priests, and I fear much that they will not allow us long to remain in quiet."

"Then come over and live with us!" exclaimed Tecumah. "We will build a house for you and hunt for you, and do our utmost to enable you to live as you are now doing."

"We cannot be thus burdensome to you; and we should have no means of paying your people for labouring in our service," answered the count. "Still, I am most grateful to you, and will think over the matter."

Constance came out of her room as soon as she had risen to thank Tecumah, who then, hoping that his friends would not be interfered with, went on to see the minister.

He had been there for some time, and was about to return, when one of the count's servants rushed into the house, out of breath from running.

"Sad news, Monsieur Laporte!" he explained. "Just ten minutes ago one of those ill-conditioned priests, with half a dozen ruffians of soldiers, came to my master's house and carried him and Madame Nigel off on an accusation of having assisted Monsieur Nigel to escape, and of reading the Bible. What will they do with them? They say Monsieur Nigel was condemned to be burnt, and they will burn them in revenge;" and the poor fellow wrung his hands and burst into tears.

"God will protect them, though I don't see how," said the minister. "Alas! alas! These persecutors of ours have already put many innocent persons to death, and will not scruple to destroy all those who oppose them."

"They must not be allowed to suffer," exclaimed Tecumah, when he heard what had occurred. "I will away to my people before they can stop me; and we will one and all perish before we allow a hair of their heads to be injured."

"We will endeavour, at all events, to rescue the innocent. You, my friend, come with me; you are in danger here, for they will assuredly seize you," said the Indian, taking the minister's hand.

"I must remain at the post where duty calls me," answered Monsieur Laporte. "I may be the means of leading some perishing soul to turn to God, and should I be imprisoned with my friends I may be a comfort to them. But bear my love and blessing to Nigel, should I be destined never again to see him."

At length Tecumah, finding that the minister was firm, set off, keeping himself concealed as much as possible among the trees, and made his way to his canoe. He had scarcely pushed off from the shore, when he saw several people rushing down to the beach. They had, he guessed rightly, been sent to capture him. There was no boat near at hand or they would have pursued him, though had they done so, his light canoe would quickly have left them astern.

On landing, he found his father and several other chiefs. He narrated to them what had occurred, but, greatly to his disappointment, he found that they objected to do anything which might put an end to the peaceable terms on which they had hitherto lived with the French. They had seen how the Portuguese treated the Indians who opposed them, and they dreaded, they said, the vengeance of the white men.

To this Tuscarora agreed, and Tecumah was obliged to content himself with this plan, trusting that no harm would be done in the mean time to the count and his daughter.

Some hours had passed when, as Tecumah was eagerly waiting on the beach for the moment fixed for the expedition to set out, he saw a canoe paddling down the harbour. He recognised it as one of those sent up the estuary to keep watch and to give timely notice of the approach of an enemy. As the occupant leapt on shore, he exclaimed--

"Haste! haste! The Portuguese and Tuparas, and several other tribes in alliance with them, are on the war-path. They have hundreds of canoes, and they will soon after nightfall attack the island unless they first land and try to destroy us."

CAPTURE OF THE FORT.

Constance and her father, rudely dragged from their home, were hurried off to the fort. No allowance was made for the weakness of her sex, and no pity was shown her by the savage priests, who, supposing that she was not aware of her husband's escape, endeavoured still more to wound her feelings by telling her that he was condemned to death, and that, unless she and her father recanted, they would meet with the same fate.

"Silence, priest, silence! It is cowardly and unmanly to speak thus to my daughter," exclaimed the count. "Add not insult to the injury you have already inflicted. We have broken no laws; we have done harm to no one; and we find ourselves treated as if we were the vilest of malefactors."

The count's address had no effect upon the priest, who took a cruel pleasure in annoying them. Such is ever the character of the emissaries of Rome when they are in the ascendency and are opposed; when in the minority, they are humble and meek, plausible and silver-tongued; and when there are none to oppose them, haughty, indolent, sensual, and self-indulgent. Such they have been in all ages and in every country, with the exception of the devoted Jesuit slaves, who have gone forth to carry their spurious gospel into heathen lands.

On arriving at the fort, the mockery of a trial was gone through; the priest's myrmidons swore to having seen Constance reading the Bible, and that, as the crime had been committed on the count's property, he was therefore equally guilty. Having been a lawyer in his youth, the count was able to defend himself, and had a jury of twelve honest men been present, he would have undoubtedly been acquitted; but, unhappily, that system being unknown among the French, he had no such advantage. The governor and the priest, exasperated at Nigel's escape, grossly abused him, and interrupted him with shouts and execrations whenever he especially pointed to the proofs of his innocence. The count, of course, defended Constance, and argued that she was but listening to her husband, whom she was bound to obey, and was therefore guiltless.

"It is false!" exclaimed the priest, starting up; "her duty to the Church is above all others. It was for her to denounce her husband rather than to listen to him. Such heretical notions as yours, Count de Tourville, must be destroyed. The Church would lose her authority and power were they to prevail."

"Ma foi!" exclaimed the count; "in that case no husband can venture to trust his wife with the slightest secret. It would not be confided to her keeping, but to that of the confessor. For that reason, and many others, we repudiate the system you, for your own ends, are anxious to maintain. I advise those who are husbands never to tell to their wives words they would not have known where the system prevails."

"Silence! Count de Tourville," exclaimed the priest, foaming with rage, "you shall answer for these insulting words."

The count, it must be confessed, regretted having touched on the subject, as it was like throwing pearls to swine; but he felt for the moment that he might shield his daughter by drawing the anger of the priests on himself.

The mockery of a trial came to a conclusion, and the governor, who had taken upon himself the office of judge and inquisitor-general, found the count and his daughter guilty of the crimes with which they were charged, and condemned them both to death. In consequence of Nigel's escape, the priest begged that they might be kept for safe custody in the prison within the fort; the same wretched place in which Nigel had first been confined, and utterly unfit for the reception of any female. Poor Constance shuddered as she was led into it. Her father begged that he might send to his house for such necessaries as his daughter required, but his request was roughly refused. It was not without difficulty even that he obtained some matting, and a few armfuls of rushes on which she might rest.

"Lie down, my child," said the count to Constance, when they were at length left alone. "We will not altogether despair, but look to Him who is always ready to protect us. You require rest; and we know not what we may have to go through."

Constance obeyed her father, while he continued pacing up and down the narrow space allowed him, to collect his thoughts. He harboured no ill-feeling towards his persecutors, but, following the example of his Master, he prayed for their forgiveness, while he looked forward with joy, rather than fear, to the time when he should be welcomed into His presence. He knew, too, that his beloved daughter, should her life be taken, would bear him company to that home where their Saviour had gone before to prepare a place for all those who love Him.

The night passed on. Constance was sleeping. Still the count felt no desire to lie down and rest. The whole fort seemed wrapped in silence, except when the voice of a distant sentry reached his ear. The silence was suddenly broken by a shot fired from the fort. Others followed in rapid succession. Then arose loud shouts and shrieks, and the Indian warwhoop rising above all others. Constance started from her slumbers, and clung to her father. The noises grew louder and louder.

"The fort is attacked. The enemy are scaling the walls!" exclaimed the count. "Both parties are fighting desperately. Constance, there is hope for us, for even the Portuguese would scarcely wish to injure those who are unable to oppose them."

The sounds of strife increased. The count could with difficulty judge how the fight was going. Supporting his daughter on his arm, he awaited the issue. The great guns roared, the bullets rattled, and presently there came an uproar which showed that the assailants had gained the fort, and the shriek and cries of the combatants, and other sounds of a desperate struggle, approached their prison. Just at that juncture the warwhoops of apparently a fresh party burst forth within the fort. The count recognised the cry as that of the Tamoyos. On they came from the opposite side of the fort, and the battle seemed to rage hotter than ever. In the midst of the fierce turmoil the door of their prison was burst open, and Tecumah, leaping in, seized Constance in his arms, while a companion took charge of the count, and hurried him off.

"I promised to save you or perish," said the Indian. "We had a hard matter to enter the fort, and it will be no less difficult to escape; but I have succeeded thus far, and trust to place you in safety."

These words were uttered hurriedly, as Tecumah, surrounded by a faithful band, was fighting his way across the fort, in all parts of which a furious battle was raging; the Portuguese and their Indian allies, the Tuparas, having forced an entrance, being engaged with the French and Tamoyos, who were struggling desperately for life.

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