The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel.
by Ludwig Tieck and Madame Burette.
Vol. I.
PREFACE.
A predilection for the productions of TIECK and a desire to introduce this remarkable work of the great German Poet to a larger circle of the reading world: were the chief inducements, on the part of the translator, for causing it to appear in an English form. As far as regards the manner in which the translation itself has been executed, the writer will be allowed to affirm, that the original has been, in every sense, as closely adhered to, as the idiom of the English language would admit of; to say, however, whether those efforts have been attended with any corresponding success, must be humbly left to the judgment of the discerning critic.
HISTORICAL NOTICE
OF THE
"REBELLION IN THE CEVENNES."
From the German of the CONVERSATIONS LEXICON, 9th edit. Brockhaus.
As far back as the twelfth century, religions sects were formed in this district (the Cevennes) under the names of "The Poor of Lyons," "The Albigenses," "Waldenses," &c. Notwithstanding the crusades and inquisitions raised against them by the popes for centuries, numerous remnants had preserved themselves, who, when the Reformation found a footing, obtained a signal increase, and finally, through the edict of Nantes, were protected from further persecutions. But when Louis XIV., 1685, revoked the edict and purposed to reconduct all his subjects by force into the bosom of the Catholic Church, then began a series of the most cruel persecutions against the Protestant inhabitants of the districts bordering on the Cevennes, especially after the peace of Ryswick, 1697. Missionaries were accompanied by dragoons in order to support by force of arms the preachings of the monks, (hence these conversions called _dragoonings_) and the tax collectors were directed to require all, especially those, suspected of protestantism, to pay up their taxes. The most savage cruelties, in which children were torn from their parents, in order to bring them up in the Catholic faith, men, who were gone to their houses of prayer, sent to the galleys, and women thrown into prisons, their priests hanged, the churches destroyed, at length produced despair. Those, who did not emigrate, fled into the retired mountain districts.
Prophets and prophetesses arose, promising victory to the peasantry, and esteeming him a martyr, who fell into the hands of the dragoons. A remarkable fanaticism took possession of the Protestant people, which, in many, even in children, shewed itself in the most fantastic trances of a really epidemic nature. See Bruyes "Histoire du fanatisme de notre temps" (Utrecht, 1757). The struggle began first with the murder of the tax-gatherers; the a.s.sa.s.sination of the Abbe du Chaila, 1703, who was at the head of those dragoonings, at length gave the signal for a general rising. The revolted peasants were called "Camisards," either from the provincial word Camise (shirt) in derision of their poverty, or, because they wore a shirt in their surprises by which they might recognise one another, or from the word "Camisade" (nightly surprise).
Their numbers and their fanaticism continued to increase, Louis"s power was rendered the less effective in putting an end to this insurrection, as the chain of mountains presented sufficient places of refuge, and his troops were every moment in danger of being cut off and surprised, or of being destroyed by cold and hunger. The boldness of the Camisards increased daily, especially as they placed at their head intrepid leaders, among whom Cavalier[1] particularly distinguished himself. The state of affairs became most critical, for Louis XIV., when the Spanish war of succession required him to extend his forces on all sides, and Marlborough and the Duke of Savoy, through promises and small succours, fired still more the Camisards. On the other hand, Pope Clement XI.
in 1703, proclaimed a plenary summons to a crusade against them, which was put in execution. Notwithstanding this, they almost totally defeated the troops of the Marshal Montrevel sent against them with 20,000 men, in 1703, and the horrible cruelty of the latter only excited still more their fanaticism. Recompensing evil with evil, they strangled eighty-four priests in the diocese of Nismes and burned two hundred churches, after 40,000 of their own party had been put to the wheel, burnt, and hanged. At length, in order to give to the perilous state of affairs another turn, Louis recalled Marshal Montrevel, 1704, and sent Marshal Villars. One of the chiefs of the Camisards meditated an alliance with the Duke of Savoy in Dauphine. The whole country from the coast to the highest crest of the mountains was more or less in their hands and with the inhabitants of Nismes, Montpellier, Orange, Uzes, &c., &c., they maintained communications, which secured to them bread, arms, and other necessaries. A quant.i.ty of bells had been melted down by them to serve for cannons, and Cavalier acquitted himself like a skilful general. The Catholic peasantry ventured neither to cultivate the land, nor to carry necessaries of life into the towns. Thus stood affairs, when Villars on the 21st of April, arrived in Nismes. He too was incapable, of subduing the insurgents by force of arms. He therefore decided on trying the effect of milder measures, and proclaimed a general amnesty for all, who would lay down their arms, and set at liberty himself such prisoners as swore fealty. In fact he disarmed in this manner several communities. On the other side he menaced with the harshest punishment, and to give weight to it, moveable columns were formed, which marched from a given point in every direction, upon which again detachments were ordered to remain as a reserve, to succour those who might make head against the enemy in the open field. Those, who were made prisoners with arms in their hands, were either killed on the spot, or hanged, or broken on the wheel in Alais, Nismes, and St. Hippolyte. Villars succeeded so far, that already on the 10th of May, Cavalier gave up the cause of the Camisards as lost, and concluded a treaty, wherein he promised to surrender with his party on condition that they should obtain liberty of conscience and the right to a.s.semble privately without the towns for the service of G.o.d, that the prisoners should be set free, the emigrated recalled, and the confiscated estates and privileges restored. On the 22nd the confirmation of the treaty arrived from Paris, and at the same time permission for Cavalier to form a regiment in the King"s pay. In the mean while, however, the affair rapidly took another turn, particularly in consequence of the activity of Dutch emissaries, who, brought money and weapons, and promised the support of their republic. Cavalier had gone to Anglade to superintend the organization of his regiment, when the wild peasantry, excited by his lieutenant and inspired by their prophets, set out and marched into the neighbouring woods, declaring firmly, the King should restore the edict of Nantes, without which there was no security for them. At length, however, Villars succeeded by his personal influence and by cutting off from them all means of subsistence, to bring them under subjection. Many of them fled and entered into the Piedmontese service, where they formed a regiment that took part in the Spanish war, and later under Cavalier"s command, was destroyed at the battle of Almanza, which Berwick gave to the Count of Stahremberg on the 25th of April, 1707. The whole insurrection, however, was not, quelled by that subjugation. There were still mult.i.tudes, among which one particularly distinguished itself, led on by a certain Roland; but Villars sought only to become possessed of the leaders. Roland, when taken prisoner, was shot by a dragoon, whereupon the remaining leaders surrendered, and cards of security were given to them, and their adherents by the Marshal, which secured them from every persecution. Yet, before Villars had fully stilled the rebellion, he was replaced by the Marshal of Berwick, who fell upon the chief leaders of the Camisards in Montpellier, caused them to be burnt and broken on the wheel, and the country cruelly laid waste. Driven to extremity by this, the Camisards rose once again with more enthusiastic inspiration.
They were, however, too weak to finish this warfare successfully. Thus they died, some with arms in their hands, some as emigrants, others submitted in order to preserve their faith, even under the greatest oppression, or were forcibly constrained to become Catholics. Thus ended this insurrection with the total devastation of the province and the annihilation, or exile of a large portion of its inhabitants. Since then, in the South of France, merely a war of opinion, lay smouldering, which after the restoration of the Bourbons in the year 1815, gave rise to frightful scenes in Nismes, and at other places. Only when in March 1819, a great number of the inhabitants of the Cevennes threatened the town of Nismes--"Thirty thousand men are ready to descend from their mountains, with the weapons of despair, if the salvation of their brethren demand it,"--the persecutions of the Protestants were put a stop to. See "Histoire des Camisards," (2 vols, London, 1744) Court de Gebelin, "Le Patriote francais et impartial," (2 vols, Villefranche 1753) by the same "Histoire des troubles des Cevennes, ou de la guerre des Camisards," (3 vols, Villefranche, 1760, new edition 1820) Schulz, "Geschichte der Camisarden" (Weimar 1790), and Tieck"s novel, "Der Aufruhr in den Cevennen" (Berlin 1826).
[Footnote 1: Jean Cavalier, princ.i.p.al leader of the Camisards in the war of the Cevennes, born 1679 in the village of Rebaute, near Anduse, vas the son of a peasant, he lived at Geneva, and was employed in agriculture, when the persecutions of the reformed inhabitants of the Cevennes under Louis XIV. reached their highest pitch, and caused the breaking out of the troubles, enflaming his enthusiasm for his faith, and inducing him to return home. He was twenty-four years old, when he placed himself at the head of armed mult.i.tudes, whom he knew how to discipline with great art, and to rule over with transcendent talent, leading them, with courage, circ.u.mspection and success against the royal army. The confirmation of the treaty, which he, despairing of the ultimate success of his cause, had concluded with Marshal Villars, Louis XIV. sent to him accompanied with the commission of colonel, and the grant of an annual pension of 1200 livres, permitting him at the same time to raise a regiment of his own in the king"s pay. Called to Versailles by the Minister Chamillard, he saw that he was watched there with distrust, and he fled secretly to England by way of Holland, entering there into military service. In the Spanish war then raging, he commanded a regiment formed of refugee Camisards in the service of Piedmont and distinguished himself particularly in the battle of Almanza, in New Castile, on the 25th of April, 1707, where he was severely wounded. At a later period he became Major-general and Governor of Jersey; and died, 1740, at Chelsea.]
THE REBELLION IN THE CEVENNES.
CHAPTER I.
"Is Edmond not yet come home?" asked his father of the servant, as he walked up and down the great hall of his country mansion.
"No, my Lord," answered the old man, "and it were well that he returned before evening; for a storm is gathering over the mountains, which bodes us no good."
At this moment a little girl entered with her toys, and sat down at the large hall table. "The storm is raging again so fearfully up in the mountains," said she carressingly, "that I will stay near you, dear papa, I cannot bear such weather, why should there be such noise and thunder in the world?"
"Aye, truly," rejoined Frantz, the old domestic, "and all the misery that has oppressed us for so many years past and to which we see no end!"
"He only knows, who has thus afflicted us," replied the father, sighing; "and he will accomplish his own wise purpose."
"Papa!" exclaimed the child, looking up from her play, "our good Eustace, the charcoalburner, who used to bring me such pretty little stones from the wood, and who lately brought the large wild bird, which he said, was a thrush; the black good man is now become a satan too."
"What art thou chattering there about!" said her father angrily; "who told you this?"
"Martha, my nurse," replied the child; "for he is now in rebellion against his G.o.d and his king, until they take him prisoner and burn, or otherwise put him to death, for he will no longer be a Christian; Martha said so this morning, while she was dressing me, and she intends going to the town next week to see the other satans put to death; pray, allow her to go, dear papa? she thinks it will more particularly confirm and strengthen her in her faith, for she too has gone a little astray, and has almost fallen into evil ways. The evil one is very powerful in the neighbourhood, particularly up yonder in the mountains, he is quite at home there; we are much better down here. Papa, the figs are becoming ripe already in the garden."
"Thou chatterer!" said her father, in a tone of displeasure, "I shall take care that you are not so much alone with the old woman."
"It is true enough," interrupted the domestic, "Eustace is up in the mountains with Roland, and has joined the Camisards, his wife and children sit mourning in their desolate home; they are dest.i.tute of food, and dread being arrested and, perhaps, condemned on his account."
"I believe," said the Lord of Beauvais, "that you have already relieved them, my good Frantz, if not, do it now; give them what necessaries they may require, but do it prudently, that we may not be called upon to answer for it; for in this general affliction of want and confusion, every thing is suspicious. A man may do as he pleases provided he becomes not a tyrant, and places himself on a level with the executioner."
"Like our Marshal," exclaimed the old man impetuously, "like our Intendant; like the lords there in Nismes, who in the name of G.o.d sacrifice their brethren. I have sent some relief to these poor people already, and will provide them with more; it is only a drop of water in the sea, but still in this distress it will comfort a few poor creatures."
The servant retired, and as her father turned a mournful glance towards the mountains, his little daughter approached him smilingly, kissed his hand, and said: "Papa, pray let not you and Frantz became wicked and rebels, for then brother Edmond and I would go to heaven quite alone, and I should not like that; I can never agree with Edmond, he is so terribly pious, you are much better, though your faith may not be of the best kind."
"You say truly, _terribly_ pious;" said the old man, "Oh heaven, when will it please thee to deliver us from these afflictions?"
"There comes Edmond along the garden," said the child, "it will be better not to say anything to him about the wicked Eustace, for we shall have noise and disputes again; he does not like such things at all."
Edmond entered, bowed, put his gun in the corner, and laid aside his pouch. A large dog came bounding up to the little girl, who played with him, and held up some pieces of broken bread.
"Where have you been this morning, my son?" inquired his father.
"At the Intendant"s, at the Lord of Basville"s," replied Edmond without raising his eyes. "Yonder in Alais, where he will stop for a few days in consequence of the trial of the rebels. He commends himself to you, but he is rather surprised that you should have refused the appointment offered, and thinks that the Marshal would understand it still less."
"The Marshal, my son," began the father, not without emotion, "there are many things that he cannot understand. I thank my G.o.d that I retired to this solitude more than ten years ago, for were I still in office, my conscience would compel me to resign it now, and that perhaps would be still more incomprehensible to these two valiant gentlemen. I neither envy nor admire their patriotism and G.o.d preserve our family from the fate of rendering such services to the king.
Therefore, my dear, my beloved son, I once more give you a paternal warning to abandon these men, it would send me to the grave to see you act like them. What do they require of us? no open, direct service, no a.s.sistance which becomes citizens, and which all honorable men are ready to render: but we are required to turn spies and betray our fellow-subjects and our countrymen, to give them up to the rack and to the stake, and to rejoice in the inhumanity which depopulates the land, and congratulate ourselves at having incurred the hatred of G.o.d and of all mankind, and if we enquire into this too closely, we are looked upon as traitors to our king and country."
"Is it ever permitted to a subject to enquire?" hastily rejoined Edmond, "I am aware of your sentiments, my father, and I regret them; but ought the subject to enquire into this? May I be allowed to ask where is the submission, where are the ties that bind him to the state, where the holiness, the sublimity, the piety, the honor by which we are men and citizens, and upon which our virtue and existence repose; if I am permitted to say: here I renounce my obedience to you, this you dare not command, though you were my king; though my country, even heaven itself should speak to me through your revered lips."
"You are right, my son," replied the old man, "and because you ask this, you will ever be in the right; the ruler should with humble piety and with G.o.dly fear keep within these limits, respect the conscience of his subjects, keep inviolate the promises, the oaths which his n.o.ble predecessors made, and which he has repeated after them, and not hurl with his own hand the burning brand into his granaries, by raising up extortioners, judges, and persecutors!--And woe to those, who thus abuse the weakness of his age, his pliable conscience and their own influence; and woe to him who is appointed to fill these offices to slaughter good and pious men; but tenfold woe to the upright man, who from ambition, or a mistaken sense of duty, advances and sets fire to the stake, and extends the rack still more horribly."
"It grieves me, my father," said Edmond, suppressing his anger, "I am overwhelmed with inexpressible anguish at being compelled to feel myself so immeasurably distant from you in all that is dearest, holiest, most natural and nearest to my heart! From the moment that I was capable of thinking and feeling, our ancient and holy religion has been to me the most sacred, the most sublime, in her alone my heart lives, all my wishes and aspirations are brightly reflected in this clear crystal; this which love itself has proclaimed, this which is itself love, eternal, invisible, to us lost creatures become visible by descending in the form of a child, as our brother and nearest neighbour, and then suffering so painful a death for our wanderings and in this most devoted sacrifice thinking only of us, and of all our infirmities and corruptions in life and in death:--ought I ever to forget this, can I disdain it; my heart which this love consumes with grat.i.tude; ought it to suffer this transcendent miracle of love to be annihilated, to be trampled in the dust, and all that is most holy reduced with scornful impiety to ruins, in order to a.s.sociate it with all that is most contemptible?"
"Who requires that, my son?" exclaimed the old man; "even Turks and Heathens would and could not demand it, still less our brethren, who only desire to approach in plainness and simplicity that incomprehensible being, who, notwithstanding his immensity, so intimately and so closely connects himself with all our hearts in love and simplicity."
"In this portrait," said the son, "it would indeed be impossible to recognise those, who murder our priests, set fire to our sanctuaries, rob the peasant, and if they are victorious, which G.o.d forbid, would extend their heresy with fire and sword over the land."
"You see it thus, my son," said the old man, "because you will see it so; we misunderstand each other in this affair, for you resist conviction, and certainly as long as you are governed by this feeling, you will never possess that dispa.s.sionate clearness of mind, which according to my judgment, is necessary to render us susceptible of religion; and this alone is the true spirit of christianity, for which, it is true, you struggle with enthusiasm, but you cannot live in true devoted love."
The son rose indignantly from his seat, and walked hastily up and down the saloon, then he seized his father"s hand, looked at him earnestly, and said: "Enthusiasm? with this word then, with this vague sound you have satisfied yourself, and responded to my sorrowing spirit. This is it exactly what the world desires, what the despairing one means whose heart is dead. Is it not so, the martyrs and heroes of the christian church were merely enthusiasts then?--and those who joyfully shed their blood and endured martyrdom for Him, to whom they could not offer too great a sacrifice of love and suffering, were fanatics too, because they were deficient in understanding and composure? All these miracles of love are merely the crude wanderings of delirious pa.s.sion, which those celestial spirits have contemplated from on high, not with emotion and joy, but only with compa.s.sionate smiles, and those who expired in ecstasy are immediately greeted with grave looks and admonishing reproof! Oh, rather than discipline my throbbing heart to such presumption and vile incredulity, I would tear it palpitating from my breast, trample it under foot and throw it to the dogs for food."