The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel. Vol. I.Tieck, Ludwig
History
The Rebellion in the Cevennes, an Historical Novel. Vol. I.
Tieck, Ludwig
France -- History -- Insurrection of the Camisards, 1702-1710 -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Historical fiction
"Oh heavens, it is the terrible hermit!" exclaimed the miller in a
hoarse voice, "I am he, indeed," replied the gigantic figure, "but why
terrible, my young simpleton? I may surely be permitted to show my face
every where, presumptuous fellow; and I have shown it before other
physiognomies than yours.--Your pardon! Sir Baron, if I give way to my
displeasure at the presumption of this hireling. Yes, reverend sir, I
am he, who under the name of the hermit is not unknown in this part of
the country; in this character I wished to do homage to my God, but an
envious fate thwarts me. To-day my troop has been entirely dispersed,
and I have only saved my own life through the greatest exertions, for I
was pursued even in the darkness of the night; my enemies cannot be far
off, my life is forfeited, if you refuse me your protection."
"All I possess," said the Counsellor, "is at your service, my house, my
servants and myself will protect you as far as we are able,
independently of the claims of humanity; my duty to my king and country
demand this."
"You are an honourable man," replied the giant, "such as I had every
reason to expect."--At his invitation, he sat down by the side of the
master of the house to partake of the wine and refreshments, which the
servants placed before him. "I hope," said he, "that the storm and
sudden fall of night have prevented them from tracing my route, but
every moment of this day has been a perilous one to me. Yonder, on the
right at Nages, the body of Camisards has been totally defeated; as I
passed the Vidourla to give the rout to my enemies, I met a flying
detachment of them, who, instead of showing any fear, assembled
together, and fell upon me like so many devils; their number was not
great, but it seemed as if they were aided by magic, a panic seized my
people; they crowded together, they reached the Vidourla, the furious
foes behind them. At that moment the storm burst forth, the waters
rushed down from the mountains and swelled the rapid mountain-stream to
a fearful height, it overflowed its banks, and I saw the dead, the
wounded, and the living ingulphed in the waters; I swang myself upon a
tree, and from that to a barren rock; more than a hundred muskets were
levelled at me, my double-barrelled gun aided me as much as possible,
but my sword was useless, the storm threatened to hurl me down, I tried
to ascend in spite of the wind and the rushing waters, the rock, from
incessant washing, had become slippery as ice, but at length I
succeeded in gaining a footing in the midst of the rolling floods, I
crept up higher, my steps illumined by the dazzling lightning, and the
flashing from the enemy's guns, while the balls wizzed round me: Thus I
arrived at a vineyard: I was compelled to scale the wall, on the other
side I found two daring fellows, who had climbed over there before me,
they fell beneath my sword, I entered a wood, and soon found myself
standing upon a level rock, but without track or foot-path, neither
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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