"It is much easier to teach the man than the horse," his instructor said, "although a horse learns readily enough, when its rider is a master of the art; but with horse and rider alike ignorant, it is a long business to get them to work together as if they were one, which is what should be. As both your horses know their work, they obey your motions, however slight; and you will soon be able to pass muster on their backs. But it would take months of patient teaching for you so to acquire the art of horsemanship as to be able to train an animal, yourself."
After the lesson was over, Francois and Philip would tilt at rings and go through other exercises in the courtyard. Breakfast over, they went hawking or hunting. Of the former sport Philip was entirely ignorant, and was surprised to learn how highly a knowledge of it was prized in France, and how necessary it was considered as part of the education of a gentleman. Upon the other hand, his shooting with the bow and arrow astonished Francois; for the bow had never been a French weapon, and the crossbow was fast giving way to the arquebus; but few gentlemen troubled themselves to learn the use of either one or the other. The pistol, however, was becoming a recognized portion of the outfit of a cavalier in the field and, following Francois' advice, Philip practised with one steadily, until he became a fair shot.
"They are cowardly weapons," Francois said, "but for all that they are useful in battle. When you are surrounded by three or four pikemen, thrusting at you, it is a good thing to be able to disembarrass yourself of one or two of them. Besides, these German horsemen, of whom the Guises employ so many, all carry firearms; and the contest would be too uneven if we were armed only with the sword; though for my part I wish that all the governments of Europe would agree to do away with firearms of every description. They place the meanest footman upon the level of the bravest knight, and in the end will, it seems to me, reduce armies to the level of machines."
In the afternoons there were generally gatherings of Huguenot gentry, who came to discuss the situation, to exchange news, or to listen to the last rumours from Paris. No good had arisen from the Conference of Bayonne, and one by one the privileges of the Huguenots were being diminished.
The uprising of the Protestants of Holland was watched with the greatest interest by the Huguenots of France. It was known that several of the most influential Huguenot nobles had met, at Valery and at Chatillon, to discuss with the Prince of Conde and Admiral Coligny the question of again taking up arms in defence of their liberties. It was rumoured that the opinion of the majority was that the Huguenot standard should be again unfurled, and that this time there should be no laying down of their arms until freedom of worship was guaranteed to all; but that the admiral had used all his powers to persuade them that the time had not yet come, and that it was better to bear trials and persecutions, for a time, in order that the world might see they had not appealed to arms until driven to it by the failure of all other hope of redress of their grievances.
The elder men among the visitors at the chateau were of the admiral's opinion. The younger chafed at the delay. The position had indeed become intolerable. Protestant worship was absolutely forbidden, except in a few specified buildings near some of the large towns; and all Protestants, save those dwelling in these localities, were forced to meet secretly, and at the risk of their lives, for the purpose of worship. Those caught transgressing the law were thrown into prison, subjected to crushing fines, and even punished with torture and death.
"Better a thousand times to die with swords in our hands, in the open field, than thus tamely to see our brethren ill-treated and persecuted!" was the cry of the young men; and Philip, who from daily hearing tales of persecution and cruelty had become more and more zealous in the Huguenot cause, fully shared their feeling.
In the presence of the elders, however, the more ardent spirits were silent. At all times grave and sober in manner and word, the knowledge that a desperate struggle could not long be deferred, and the ever-increasing encroachments of the Catholics, added to the gravity of their demeanour. Sometimes those present broke up into groups, talking in an undertone. Sometimes the gathering took the form of a general council. Occasionally some fugitive minister, or a noble from some district where the persecution was particularly fierce, would be present; and their narratives would be listened to with stern faces by the elders, and with passionate indignation by the younger men.
In spite of the decrees, the countess still retained her chaplain and, before the meetings broke up, prayers were offered by him for their persecuted brethren, and for a speedy deliverance of those of the reformed religion from the cruel disabilities under which they laboured.
Services were held night and morning in the chateau. These were attended not only by all the residents, but by many of the farmers and their families. The countess had already received several warnings from the Catholic authorities of the province; but to these she paid no attention, and there were no forces available to enforce the decree in her case, as it would require nothing short of an army to overcome the opposition that might be expected, joined as she would be by the other Huguenot gentry of the district.
Chapter 4: An Experiment.
Marie Vaillant, after remaining six weeks at the chateau, returned to England; and Philip, with a party of twelve men, escorted her to La Rochelle. Her visit was cut short somewhat, at the end, by the imminence of the outbreak of hostilities, in which case she might have found a difficulty in traversing the country. Moreover, La Rochelle would probably be besieged, soon after the war began; for being both an important town and port, the Catholics would be anxious to obtain possession of it, and so cut off the Huguenots from escape to England, besides rendering it difficult for Elizabeth to send a force to their assistance.
"It has been a pleasant time," the countess said, on the morning of her departure; "and your presence has taken me back five-and-twenty years, Marie. I hope that when these troubles are past you will again come over, and spend a happier time with me. I was going to say that I will look well after Philip, but that I cannot do. He has cast his lot in with us, and must share our perils. I am greatly pleased with him, and I am glad that Francois will have him as a companion in arms. Francois is somewhat impulsive, and liable to be carried away by his ardour; and Philip, although the younger, is, it seems to me, the more thoughtful of the two. He is one I feel I can have confidence in. He is grave, yet merry; light hearted in a way, and yet, I think, prudent and cautious. It seems strange, but I shall part with Francois with the more comfort, in the thought that he has Philip with him.
"Don't come back more English than you are now, Marie; for truly you seem to me to have fallen in love with the ways of these islanders."
"I will try not to, Emilie; but I should not like the customs, did it not seem to me that they are better than my own. In England Protestants and Catholics live side by side in friendship, and there is no persecution of anyone for his religion; the Catholics who have suffered during the present reign have done so, not because they are Catholics, but because they plotted against the queen. Would that in France men would agree to worship, each in his own way, without rancour or animosity."
"Tell Lucie that I am very sorry she did not come over with you and Philip, and that it is only because you tell me how occupied she is that I am not furiously angry with her.
"Tell her, too," she went on earnestly, "that I feel she is one of us; still a Huguenot, a Frenchwoman, and one of our race, or she would never have allowed her only son to come over, to risk his life in our cause. I consider her a heroine, Marie. It is all very well for me, whose religion is endangered, whose friends are in peril, whose people are persecuted, to throw myself into the strife and to send Francois into the battle; but with her, working there with an invalid husband, and her heart, as it must be, wrapped up in her boy, it is splendid to let him come out here, to fight side by side with us for the faith. Whose idea was it first?"