IN CAMP
"Yes, gentlemen," said the Duc de Guise, as he entered his tent, to the
noblemen who were in attendance upon him; "yes, to-day, this 24th of
April, 1557, in the evening, after having entered Neapolitan territory
on the 15th, and taken Campli in four days, we are laying siege to
Civitella. On the 1st of May, having made ourselves masters of
Civitella, we will sit down before Aquila. On the 10th of May we shall
be at Arpino, and on the 20th at Capua, where we will not be caught
napping, as Hannibal was. On the 1st of June, gentlemen, I hope to show
you Naples, please God."
"And how about the Pope, my dear brother?" said the Duc d'Aumale. "His
Holiness, who was so very free with his promises of assisting us with
the papal troops, has abandoned us so far to our own resources, so it
seems to me; and our army is hardly strong enough to take such risks in
a hostile country."
"Paul IV.," said François, "is too deeply interested in the success of
our forces to leave us without assistance. What a beautifully clear,
bright night it is, gentlemen! Biron, do you know whether the partisans,
of whose expected rising in the Abruzzi the Caraffas told us, have begun
to make any stir yet?"
"They don't budge, Monseigneur; I have late news that can be depended
on."
"Well, our musketry will wake them up," said the Duc de Guise. "Monsieur
le Marquis d'Elbœuf," he resumed, "have you heard aught from the
convoys of provisions and ammunition which we should have met at Ascoli,
and which surely ought to come up to us here, I should say?"
"Yes, I have heard from them, Monseigneur, but at Rome; and since then,
alas--"
"Merely a little delay," the Duc de Guise broke in,--"surely it is
nothing but a little delay; and after all, we are not altogether
unprovided. The taking of Campli helped out our commissariat somewhat;
and if I should enter the tent of any one of you gentlemen an hour from
now, I'll warrant I should find a first-rate supper on the board, and
seated at table with you some disconsolate widow or pretty orphan from
Campli, whom you make it your duty to console. Nothing could be better,
gentlemen. Besides, it is the bounden duty of the conqueror, and is what
makes victory so sweet, is it not? Well, I will keep you no longer now
from your pleasures. To-morrow, at daybreak, I will send for you to
concert the means of cutting into this sugar-loaf of Civitella; till
then, gentlemen, a good appetite, and good-night."
The duke smilingly escorted his generals to the door of his tent; but
when the curtain which formed the door had fallen behind the last of
them, and François de Guise was left alone, his manly features at once
assumed a careworn expression, and seating himself at a table and
leaning his head on his hands, he said beneath his breath with much
anxiety,--
"Can it be that I should have done better to renounce all personal
ambition, to content myself with being simply Henri II.'s general, and
to limit my achievements to the recovery of Milan and the liberation of
Sienna? Here am I in this kingdom of Naples of which in my dreams I have
heard myself called the king; but I am without allies, and shall soon be
without provisions; and all my officers, with my brother at their head,
with not an energetic, capable mind among them, are already beginning to
be disheartened, and to lose their courage, I can see plainly."
At this moment the duke heard a step behind him. He turned quickly, with
an angry greeting on his lips for the bold intruder; but when he saw who
it was, instead of reproving him, he held out his hand to him.
"You are not the man, Vicomte d'Exmès, are you," said he, "you are not
the man, my dear Gabriel, ever to think twice about going on with an
undertaking, because bread is scarce and the enemy plenty?--you, who
were the last to go out of Metz, and the first to enter Valenza and
Campli. But have you come to tell me anything new, my friend?"
"Yes, Monseigneur, a courier has arrived from France," Gabriel replied.
"He is, I think, the bearer of letters from your illustrious brother,
Monseigneur le Cardinal de Lorraine. Shall I have him brought before
you?"
"No, but let him hand you the despatches that he has, Viscount, and do
you bring them to me yourself, please."
Gabriel bowed, left the tent, and came back almost immediately, bringing
a letter sealed with the arms of the house of Lorraine.
The six years that had passed since our story opened had scarcely
changed our old friend Gabriel, except that his features had taken on a
more manly and determined expression. He would at once have been picked
out as a man who had put his own worth to the proof and knew it well.
But he had always the same calm and serious brow, the same true and open
look, and, let us say at once, the same heart full of the hopes and
illusions of youth; and well it might be so, for he was only twenty-four
even now.
The Duc de Guise was thirty-seven; and although his was a noble and
generous nature, his mind had already returned from many places where
Gabriel's had never yet been; and more than one disappointed ambition,
more than one burnt-out passion, more than one fruitless contest, had
sunk his eye deep in his head, and worn the hair from his temples. Yet
he none the less understood and loved the chivalrous and devoted
character of Gabriel; and an irresistible attraction drew the man of
years and experience toward the trustful youth.
He took his brother's letter from Gabriel's hands, and said to him
before opening it,--
"Listen, Vicomte d'Exmès: my secretary, Hervé de Thelen, whom you
knew, died under the walls of Valenza; my brother D'Aumale is only a
soldier, gallant but without ability; I need a right arm, Gabriel, a
confidential friend and assistant. Now, since you came to me at my hotel
at Paris, some five or six years since, I should say, I have become
convinced that you have a mind above the ordinary, and better still, a
faithful heart. I know nothing of you but your name,--and there never
lived a Montgommery who wasn't brave; but you came to me without a word
of recommendation from any one, and notwithstanding, I was attracted by
you at once! I took you with me to the defence of Metz; and if that
defence is to furnish one of the fairest pages of my life's story, if
after sixty-five days of assault we succeeded in driving from before the
walls of Metz an army of a hundred thousand men and a general who was
called Charles V., I must remember that your gallantry, conspicuous at
every turn, and your keen mind, always on the watch, had no
inconsiderable share in that glorious result. The following year you
were still with me when I won the battle of Renty; and if that ass
Montmorency, well christened the--but I must not insult my foe, I must
rather praise my friend and my brave companion,--Gabriel, Vicomte
d'Exmès, the worthy relative of the worthy Montgommerys. I must say to
you, Gabriel, that on every occasion, and more than ever since we came
into Italy, I have found your assistance, your advice, and your
affection of advantage to me, and have absolutely only one fault to find
with you, and that is being too reserved and discreet with your general.
Yes, I am sure that there is, somewhere or other in your life, a
sentiment or a thought that you are hiding from me, Gabriel. But what of
that? Some day you will confide it to me, and the important thing is to
know that there is something for you to do. _Pardieu_! I also have
something to do,--I, Gabriel; and if you say the word, we will join our
fortunes, and you will help me, and I you. When I have an important and
difficult undertaking to intrust to another, I will call upon you. When
a powerful patron becomes essential to the furtherance of your plans, I
will be on hand. Is it a bargain?"
"Oh, Monseigneur," Gabriel replied, "I am yours, body and soul! What I
desired, first of all, was to be able to trust in myself and induce
others to trust in me. Now I have succeeded in acquiring a little
self-confidence, and you condescend to have some regard for me; so I
have succeeded in my ambition up to the present time. But that a
different ambition may hereafter summon me to fresh exertions, I do not
deny; and when that time comes, Monseigneur,--since you have been kind
enough to allow me to take such a step,--I will surely have recourse to
you, just as you may count upon me in life or in death."
"Well said, _per Bacco_! as these drunken dogs of cardinals say. And do
you be quite easy in your mind, Gabriel, for François de Lorraine, Duc
de Guise, will spare no warmth to serve you in love or in hatred; for
one or the other of these passions is at work in us, is it not, my
master?"
"Both, perhaps, Monseigneur."
"Ah! so? And when your heart is so full, how can you resist letting it
overflow into the heart of a friend?"
"Alas, Monseigneur, because I scarcely know whom I love, and have no
idea at all whom I hate!"
"Indeed! Just suppose, then, Gabriel, since your enemies are to be mine
henceforth,--just suppose that old rake Montmorency should happen
to be among them!"
"It may very well be so, Monseigneur; and if my suspicions have any
foundation--But we must not bother about my affairs at this crisis; it
is with you and your far-reaching plans that we have to do. How can I be
of service to you, Monseigneur?"
"In the first place, read me this letter from my brother, the Cardinal
de Lorraine, Gabriel."
Gabriel broke the seal and unfolded the letter, and after having cast a
glance at it, handed it back to the duke, saying, as he did so,--
"Pardon, Monseigneur, but this letter is written in peculiar characters,
and I cannot read it."
"Ah!" said the duke, "was it Jean Panquet's courier who brought it,
then? It must be a confidential communication, I see,--a grated letter,
so to speak. Wait a moment, Gabriel!"
He opened a casket of chased iron and took from it a paper with pieces
cut out at regular intervals, which he laid carefully upon the
cardinal's letter. "There," said he, handing it to Gabriel, "read it
now!"
Gabriel seemed to have some hesitation about doing as he was bid; but
François took his hand and pressed it, and said again, with a look of
perfect confidence and good faith, "Come, read it; there's a good
fellow!"
So the Vicomte d'Exmès read as follows:--
"Monsieur, my most honored and illustrious brother (ah, when shall I be
able to call you by that one little word of four letters,--_Sire_!)--"
Gabriel stopped again; and the duke said, smiling,--
"You are astonished, Gabriel, and no wonder; but I trust that you have
no suspicions of me. The Duc de Guise is not another Constable de
Bourbon, my friend; and may God keep Henri's crown on his head, and
grant him long life! But is there no other throne in the world save the
throne of France? Since chance has placed me on an absolutely
confidential footing with you, Gabriel, I do not wish to hide anything
from you; but I am anxious to make known to you all my plans, and all my
dreams, which are not, I think, such as could spring from a commonplace
soul."
The duke rose and strode up and down the tent.
"Our family, which is allied to so many royal houses, may well, in my
mind, Gabriel, aspire to any height of greatness. But the mere
aspiration is nothing; attainment is my ambition. Our sister is Queen of
Scotland; our niece, Mary Stuart, is betrothed to the Dauphin François;
our grand-nephew, the Duc de Lorraine, is the chosen son-in-law of the
king. And that is not all: in addition, we claim to represent the second
house of Anjou, from which we are descended in the female line. Thence
we derive our claims or rights--it's all the same thing--to Provence and
Naples. Let us be content with Naples for the moment. Would not that
crown look better on a Frenchman's head than on a Spaniard's? Now, what
was my purpose in coming to Italy? To seize that crown. We are in
alliance with the Duc de Ferrara, and closely bound to the Pope's
nephews, the Caraffas. Paul IV. is an old man, and my brother, the
Cardinal de Lorraine, will succeed him. The throne of Naples is
tottering, and I will mount it; and that is why, _mon Dieu_! I left
Sienna and the Milanais behind me to pounce upon the Abruzzi. It was a
glorious dream; but I fear greatly that it will never be more than a
dream. For just consider, Gabriel, that I had less than twelve thousand
men when I crossed the Alps! The Duc de Ferrara had promised me seven
thousand; but he kept them on his own territory. Paul and the Caraffas
had boasted how they would stir up a powerful faction in my interest in
the kingdom of Naples, and agreed to furnish me with troops and money
and supplies; but they have not sent me a man or a wagon or a sou. My
officers are beginning to draw back, and my troops are murmuring. But it
makes no difference; I will go on to the bitter end. I will not leave
this promised land which my foot is now upon except at the last gasp;
and if I do leave it, I will return! I will return!"
The duke stamped on the ground as if to take possession of it; his eyes
shone; and he was noble and beautiful to look upon.
"Monseigneur," cried Gabriel, "how proud am I that I may be allowed to
be your companion, to have such a trifling part as I may in such a
glorious ambition!"
"And now," the duke said, smiling, "that I have given you the key to my
brother's letter twice over, I fancy that you will be able to read and
understand it So go on with it, while I listen."
"'Sire!' That is where I left off," said Gabriel.
"I have to inform you of two items of bad tidings and one of good. The
good news is that the nuptials of our niece, Mary Stuart, are finally
fixed for the 20th of next month, and are to be celebrated in due form
at Paris on that day. One of the other pieces of news, of an evil tenor,
comes from England. Philip II. of Spain has landed there, and is urging
every day upon Queen Mary Tudor, his wife, who is passionately devoted
to him, a declaration of war against France. No one has any doubt that
he will succeed, although his wishes are directly opposed to the
interest and the desire of the English people. There is talk already of
an army to be assembled on the frontiers of the Low Countries, under the
command of Philibert Emmanuel of Savoy. In that event, my dearest
brother, we are suffering so from scarcity of troops here at home that
Henri will be forced to recall you from Italy, so that our plans in that
direction will at least have to be postponed. And consider, François,
how much better it would be to delay their execution for a while than to
compromise them; let there be no headstrong recklessness. It will be in
vain for our sister, the Queen Regent of Scotland, to threaten to break
with England, for you may believe that Mary of England, altogether
infatuated with her young husband, will pay no attention to it; so take
your measures accordingly."
"By Heaven!" broke in the Duc de Guise, bringing his fist down violently
on the table, "you say only too well, my brother; and it takes a sly fox
to smell the hounds. Yes, Mary the prude will surely allow herself to be
led astray by her lawful husband; and no, of course I cannot openly
disobey the king when he calls upon me to send his soldiers to him at so
serious a crisis; and I would rather hold my hand from all the kingdoms
on earth. Well, then, one obstacle the more in the way of this accursed
expedition; for I leave it to you to say if it is not accursed, Gabriel,
in spite of the Holy Father's blessing! Come, Gabriel, tell me frankly,
for my ear alone, you do look upon it as hopeless, don't you?"
"I should not like, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, "to have you class me
with those who easily lose their courage; and yet, since you ask my
opinion in all sincerity--"
"Enough, Gabriel! I understand you and agree with you. I foresee that it
is not at this time that we are fated to accomplish together the great
things that we were planning just now; but I swear to you that this is
only a postponement, and to strike a blow at Philip II. in any part of
his dominions will always be equivalent to attacking him here at Naples.
But go on, Gabriel, for if I remember aright we have other evil tidings
still to hear."
Gabriel resumed his reading.
"The other troublesome affair that I have to tell you of will be of no
less serious moment, because it concerns our family's private matters;
but there is no doubt still time to avert it, and so I make haste to
give you notice of it. It is necessary that you should know that since
your departure Monsieur le Connétable de Montmorency has shown, and
quite naturally, the same ugly and bitter spirit toward us, and has
never ceased to be envious of us, and to fume and swear, as has always
been his custom whenever the king showed any favor to our family. The
approaching celebration of our dear niece Mary's nuptials with the
dauphin is not calculated to put him in a good humor. The balance which
it is to the king's interest to preserve between the two houses of Guise
and Montmorency is depressed considerably in our favor by this event;
and the old constable is making a terrible clamor and outcry for
something to counterbalance it. He has found this counterpoise, my dear
brother, in a match between his son François, the prisoner of
Thérouanne, and--"
The young count did not finish the sentence. His voice faltered, and
every drop of blood left his face.
"Well, what's the matter, Gabriel?" asked the duke. "How pale you are
and how discomposed! Did you have a sudden attack of pain?"
"Nothing, Monseigneur, absolutely nothing, except possibly a little
over-fatigue and a slight dizziness; but I am all right again now, and
will go on if you please. Let me see, where was I? The cardinal was
saying, I think, that there was a remedy. Oh, no, farther along. Here's
the place:--"
"In a match between his son François and Madame Diane de Castro, the
legitimatized daughter of the king and Madame Diane de Poitiers. You will
remember, brother, that Madame de Castro, who was left a widow at the
age of thirteen, her husband, Horace Farnèse, having been killed at the
siege of Hesdin six months after the wedding, remained for five years at
the convent of the Filles-Dieu at Paris. The king, at the constable's
solicitation, sent for her to return to court. She is a perfect pearl of
beauty, my brother, and you know that I am a competent judge. Her charms
made a conquest of all hearts at first sight, and of the father's heart
more than all the rest. The king, who had already endowed her with the
duchy of Chatellerault, has added the duchy of Angoulême to her
possessions. She has been here only two weeks, and yet her supreme
influence over the king is already an admitted fact. Her fascination and
her sweet disposition are, no doubt, the moving causes of his very great
fondness for her. At last things have got to such a point that Madame de
Valentinois, who for some unknown reason has thought fit to invent
another mother for Madame de Castro, seems to me just at present to be
very jealous of this newly risen power. So it will be a very good thing
for the constable if he succeeds in getting such a potent ally into his
household. Between ourselves, you know that Diane de Poitiers never can
refuse much of anything to the old villain; and although our brother
D'Aumale is her son-in-law, Anne de Montmorency is still more closely
connected with her. The king, moreover, is inclined to make some amends
for the preponderating force which he sees that we are beginning to
wield in his council and his armies. And this infernal marriage is very
likely to be brought about."
"Again your voice falters, Gabriel," the duke interposed; "rest a bit,
my boy, and let me finish the letter myself, for it interests me
exceedingly. For, to tell the truth, that will give the constable a
dangerous advantage over us. But I thought that great gaby of a
François was already married to a De Fiennes. Come, give me the letter,
Gabriel."
"But I am all right, upon my word, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, who had
been reading a few lines ahead, "and I am perfectly well able to read
the few lines that remain."
"This infernal marriage is very likely to be brought about. There is
only one thing in our favor. François de Montmorency is bound by a
secret marriage to Mademoiselle de Fiennes; and so a divorce is a
necessary preliminary. But for that, the Pope's assent must be obtained;
and François is just setting out for Rome to obtain it. So make it your
business, my dear brother, to anticipate him with his Holiness, and
through our friends the Caraffas and your own influence to induce him to
reject the petition for a divorce, which will be supported, let me warn
you, by a letter from the king. But the threatened position is of
sufficient importance to call forth your best energies to defend it, as
you defended St. Dizier and Metz. I will act with you to the best of my
ability, for it will need all we both can do. And with this, my dear
brother, I pray God to grant you a long and happy life."
"Well, nothing is lost yet," said the Duc de Guise, when Gabriel had
finished reading the cardinal's letter; "and the Pope, who refuses to
supply me with soldiers, might at least be willing to make me a present
of a bull."
"So, then," said Gabriel, trembling with emotion, "you have some hope
that his Holiness will refuse to ratify this divorce from Jeanne de
Fiennes, and will be opposed to this marriage of François de
Montmorency?"
"Yes, yes! indeed, I have hopes of it. But how deeply moved you are, my
friend! Dear Gabriel! he does enter passionately into our interests! I
am quite as heartily at your service, Gabriel, be sure of that. And come
now, let us talk about your affairs a little; and since, in this
undertaking, of which I can foresee the issue only too plainly, you will
scarcely have an opportunity, I imagine, to swell the list of noteworthy
services for which I am in your debt, by any fresh exploits, suppose I
make a beginning of paying my debt to you? I don't choose to be too
heavily in arrear, my good fellow. Can I be of help or assistance to you
in any way whatever? Tell me now; come, tell me frankly."
"Oh, Monseigneur is too kind," replied Gabriel; "and I do not see--"
"For these last five years, when you have been continually fighting
under me," said the duke, "you have never accepted a sou from me. You
must be in need of money; why, God bless me, everybody needs money. It
is not a gift or a loan that I offer you, but payment of a debt. So
let's have no empty scruples; and although we are, as you know, rather
pressed for money, still--"
"Yes, I do know very well, Monseigneur, that the want of a little means
sometimes causes your grandest schemes to fall through; and I am so far
from being in need myself that I was going to offer you some thousands
of crowns, which would come in very handily for the army, and are quite
useless to me, really."
"And which I will gladly accept, for they come at a very good time, I
confess; and so one can do absolutely nothing for you, O young man
without a wish! But stay," he added in a lower tone, "that rascal
Thibault, my body-servant, you know, at the sack of Campli, day before
yesterday, put aside for me the young wife of the _procureur_ of the
town, the beauty of the neighborhood, judging from what I hear, always
excepting the governor's wife, on whom no one can lay his hand. But as
for me, upon my word, I have too many other cares in my head, and my
hair is getting grizzly. Come, Gabriel, what would you say to my prize?
_Sang-Dieu_! but you are built just right to make amends for the loss of
a _procureur_! What do you say to it?"
"I say, Monseigneur, with regard to the governor's wife, of whom you
speak, and upon whom no hand has been laid, that it was I who fell in
with her in the confusion, and carried her away, not to abuse my rights,
as you might think. On the contrary, my object was to shield a noble and
beautiful woman from the violence of a licentious soldiery. But I have
since discovered that the fair creature would have no objection to
adopting the cause of the victors, and would be very glad to shout, like
the soldier of Gaul: 'Væ victis!' But since I am now, alas! less
inclined than ever to echo her sentiments, I can, if you desire,
Monseigneur, have her brought here to one who can appreciate better than
I, and more worthily, her charms and her rank."
"Oh, oh!" cried the duke, laughing heartily. "Such extraordinary
morality almost savors of the Huguenot, Gabriel. Can it be that you have
a secret leaning toward those of the religion? Ah, take heed, my friend!
I am by conviction, and by policy, which is worse, an ardent Catholic,
and I will have you burned without pity. But come, joking apart, why the
deuce are you so strait-laced?"
"Because I am in love, perhaps," said Gabriel.
"Oh, yes, I remember, a hate and a love. Well, then, can't I show my
good-will to you by putting you in a way to meet your foes or your love?
Are you in want of a title, for example?"
"Thanks, Monseigneur; I am no longer in need of that, and as I said to
you in the first place, my ambition is not for vague and empty honors,
but for a little personal renown. Therefore, since you conclude that
there is nothing more of importance to be done here, and I am not likely
to be of much use to you, it would be a very great gratification to me
to be commissioned by you to carry to Paris, for the marriage of your
royal niece, for instance, the flags you have won in Lombardy and in the
Abruzzi. My happiness would leave nothing to be desired if you would
deign to give me a letter to his Majesty, which should bear witness to
him and to the whole court that some of these flags have been taken by
my own hand, not altogether without danger to myself."
"Indeed, I will! That is very easily done; and more than that, it is
quite right too," said the Duc de Guise. "I shall be very sorry to part
with you; but in all probability it will only be for a short time, if
war breaks out on the Flemish frontier, as everything seems to indicate,
and we will meet again there, will we not, Gabriel? Your place is always
where there is fighting to be done; and that is why you are so anxious
to get away from here, where there is nothing to be had now but
weariness and ennui, by Heaven! But we will have better sport in the Low
Countries, Gabriel, and I trust that we shall enjoy it together there."
"I shall be only too glad to follow you, Monseigneur."
"Meanwhile, how soon would you like to be off, Gabriel, to carry to the
king this wedding gift, of which your brain conceived the idea?"
"The sooner the better, I should say, Monseigneur, if the marriage is to
take place on the 20th of May, as Monseigneur le Cardinal de Lorraine
informs you."
"Very true. Well, then, you shall go to-morrow, Gabriel; and you will
have none too much time either. So go and get some rest, my friend,
while I write the letter which will commend you to the king's notice, as
well as the reply to my brother's, of which you will kindly take charge;
and say to him besides, that I hope for a favorable result to the matter
in which the Pope is concerned."
"And perhaps, Monseigneur," said Gabriel, "my presence at Paris may help
along the result you desire to that matter, and so my absence may be of
some service to you."
"Always mysterious, Vicomte d'Exmès! but I am used to it from you.
Adieu, then; and may the last night that you pass near me be a pleasant
one!"
"I will return in the morning to get my letters and your blessing,
Monseigneur. Ah! I leave with you my retainers, who have followed me in
all my campaigns. I ask your permission to take with me only two of them
and my squire, Martin-Guerre; he will answer all my needs; he is devoted
to me, and is afraid of only two things in the whole world,—his wife
and his shadow."
"How is that?" said the duke, laughing.
"Monseigneur, Martin-Guerre fled from his native place, Artigues, near
Rieux, to get away from his wife Bertrande, whom he adored, but who used
to beat him. He entered my service after Metz; but either the Devil or
his wife, to torment him or punish him for his sins, kept appearing to
him from time to time in his own image. Yes, all of a sudden, he would
see by his side another Martin-Guerre, a striking likeness of himself,
as like as if it were his reflection in a mirror; and by our Lady! that
frightened him. But for all that he has an utter contempt for bullets,
and would carry a redoubt single-handed. At Renty and at Valenza he
twice saved my life."
"Take this valiant coward with you by all means, Gabriel. Give me your
hand again, my dear friend, and be ready in the morning. My letters will
be waiting for you."
Gabriel was ready to start bright and early the next day; he passed the
night dreaming without closing his eyes. He waited on the Duc de Guise
to receive his last instructions, and pay his parting respects, and on
the 26th of April, at six in the morning, he set out for Rome, and
thence for Paris, attended by Martin-Guerre and two of his followers.