CHAPTER IX.

It is needless for me to pause upon all the movements that

subsequently took place. They have met with historians more competent

to treat of military details than myself; nor would my own personal

narrative for several weeks, nay, for months, present many matters of

interest. No sooner had Angoulême capitulated and order been restored

in the town, than Monsieur de Blaye found means easily to procure the

money for his ransom, and paid me the sum of four thousand crowns,

which was certainly far more than I had ever possessed before in my

life. In the arrangements which had been made between myself and Moric

Endem, and which he communicated to the men as we engaged them, the

ransom of prisoners, it may be remembered, had been held apart as

belonging to the actual captors. Nevertheless, I determined to

endeavour, as far as possible, to attach the men to me by liberality,

and to show that I could recompense good service, in order that, if

necessity required it, I might be the more fully justified in

punishing bad conduct.

I accordingly called the men together as soon as I had received the

ransom of my prisoner; and explaining to them what I was about to do,

and the reason why, I divided the money into two equal portions, and,

having reserved one for myself, I again divided the other half into

two, whereof I bestowed one upon my good lieutenant, Moric Endem, to

whom I owed so much, and distributed the residue among the men who

accompanied me to the breach. The others, who had chosen to wait till

they saw me tried, looked a little foolish and mortified upon the

occasion, but acknowledged it was all just; and, to give them some

consolation, I bestowed ten crowns a man upon them out of my own

stock, only requiring that each two should provide themselves with a

small tent, and each five with a baggage-horse, and a boy to ride it.

After this was done, my next thought was to redeem the dagger which I

had left in the hands of the Jew; but the matter was somewhat

difficult to be arranged; for how was I to obtain the weapon without

going myself to Bordeaux, or without sending some one in whom I could

fully trust? I thought of Andriot, of whose honesty I felt as certain

as of my own; but then he was by far too illiterate and simple in his

nature to deal with so shrewd a personage as the Jew; and the specimen

which I had had of good Solomon Ahar's proceedings was not very well

calculated to increase my confidence in his probity. Although the

weapon might be considered as a mere gewgaw, yet I clung to the

thought of regaining it as speedily as possible with feelings which

some people will easily enter into. It seemed as if it were my

inheritance; it was the only thing I possessed of my father's; it was

the tie between me and past years. I meditated over this for some

time, without coming to any satisfactory conclusion; and at length

remembering that there were many other things to think of, I proceeded

to the bedside of young Martin Vern, to prepare him for removal on the

following day.

Since the extraction of the ball he had been daily recovering

strength. The great quantity of blood he had lost had in all

probability been the cause that no great fever had ensued; and he had

been able to lie and talk to me at various times during the preceding

day without any apparent inconvenience. I now found him still better;

and he heard that the siege of Angoulême was over, and that we were

preparing to make a retrograde movement, to attack the small town of

Pons, with apparent pleasure. He expressed himself perfectly willing

and able to be moved; but only desired to find a messenger to bear

intelligence of his state to his uncle, and to tell him in what

direction we were likely to proceed.

I instantly caught at the opportunity of communicating with the Jew

through Martin Vern; and, after consulting with the young man upon the

subject, and telling him the whole facts, the matter was very easily

arranged. Andriot was sent back to Bordeaux with a mere verbal message

concerning the movements of the army, but with a letter from me to the

merchant, which told him of his nephew's improved health, and of my

own wishes with regard to the Jew, and also enclosed both the receipt

which the worthy Solomon had given me, and the requisite sum for

redeeming the dagger.

Andriot by this time had nearly enough of military service, and was

not at all sorry to lay aside the cuirass and helmet. He did not even

affect to conceal that such was the case; but, at the same time,

begged that I would let him return and join me in the capacity of a

servant as before.

Early on the following morning we began our march for Pons; and that

city was besieged in form, the garrison expressing its determination

to hold out to the last extremity. They kept their word in the town;

the place was taken by assault; and for the first time I beheld the

most awful scene that war, always terrible, can display. Death, and

destruction, and cold-blooded massacre surrounded me on every side;

but, terrible as it all was, I had the satisfaction of contributing,

in some degree, to the cessation of the evil. One or two of the

officers joined with me; and we endeavoured, as far as possible, to

shelter even the officers and soldiers that surrendered.

This attempt was nearly vain, however; but it prepared the way for

more successful efforts when the pillage of houses commenced. To

prevent plunder was impossible, I found; but to stop massacre was less

difficult, and most of my soldiers were beginning to listen to the

repeated commands that they received, and form into some order, when,

suddenly, a girl rushed from one of the houses, pursued by a trooper

whom I had engaged at Barbazieux, and who had shown himself somewhat

slack in the combat and eager in the pillage.

Both the girl and the man heard clearly the orders I was in the very

act of repeating, to abstain from outrage, and, rushing forward, she

clung to my knees. The man darted on after her, swearing that he would

have his lawful prey; that the town was taken by assault, and nobody

should stop him. There was a large body of soldiers coming up at the

time under Monsieur de Boucard, and I knew that at that moment example

was everything. The man had the insolence to seize the woman by the

shoulder at my very feet; but my heavy double-edged sword was naked in

my hand at the instant, and his foul fingers had scarcely touched her

when his spirit went to its dark account.

"Rightly done, rightly done, Monsieur de Cerons!" cried Boucard,

turning partly towards his men and partly towards me. "The same

punishment for any one who commits such excesses."

The greater part of the town's people were saved, but four hundred of

the soldiery were massacred in cold blood; and I grieve to say, that

four hundred more were afterward slain when the citadel was taken.

There was every reason to believe that the castle had capitulated;

but, by some mistake, the assailants got in at once, and put to death

every soul they met with. I was not in the town at the moment that

this latter act took place, having been ordered to follow the Admiral

de Coligny with all speed towards Chauvigny, whither he had marched

some days before in pursuit of the Duke of Montpensier. I was ordered

to bear to him tidings of the fall of Pons; and a company of foot

soldiers was added to my band, so that we might afford at once a small

re-enforcement to his division of the army, and give him notice that

those he had left behind would soon be prepared to support him.

Various movements on the part of both the Catholic and Protestant

armies followed during the greater part of the winter and the early

spring of the ensuing year. The Duke of Montpensier collected his

forces in the neighbourhood of Chatelherault; and tidings spread

abroad that the Duke of Anjou, the king's brother, was coming down

with a great force, to put himself at the head of the Catholic armies.

Various disasters also befell different detachments of Protestant

soldiers making their way up from distant parts of the country, to

join the main body under the admiral and the Prince de Condé. The

Protestant leaders, however, did not suffer themselves to be daunted,

and still acted upon the offensive, harassing the enemy in continual

skirmishes, and prepared even to risk the event of a general battle.

In all these proceedings I had my share. I knew that all and

everything depended upon my own exertions and my own success; and,

daily becoming more and more habituated to the life I led, I suffered

no opportunity to pass of attacking any detached body of the enemy.

When I thought myself not strong enough to attempt any of the small

fortified towns or castles, soon found plenty of leaders who were

willing to aid me for a share of the plunder which was likely to be

taken. Thus I was scarcely ever out of the saddle; rarely two days at

a time without crossing my sword with an enemy; and never suffering

myself, by any ambition, to be led into the great mistake of

increasing the numbers of my band, it became rather a privilege than

otherwise to obtain admission into it.

Such exertions were not without their reward; for, though in the

course of the campaign I did not meet with any other such rich prize

as Monsieur de Blaye had proved, yet many a prisoner of less

importance was taken--several by my own hand; while a large quantity

of booty was obtained, especially after the gay and luxurious soldiery

of the Duke of Anjou began to arrive in the country.

On one occasion we took an immense quantity of baggage, belonging to

two or three noblemen of the court, in a village which they had

fortified for their own defence, so that the amount of fifteen

thousand crowns in money alone was divided between our troop and a

band of foot who had joined us in the enterprise. We had been told

that the Duke of Joyeuse himself was in the village; but if he was so,

he made his escape with the other nobles before we forced our way in.

Had I been able to capture him, indeed, I might have thought myself

deserving of the name which I had by this time acquired in the army,

of the "Fortunate Monsieur de Cerons." I was indeed, in many respects,

extremely fortunate; for I had escaped without any wounds that

deserved the name, except the pistol-shot in the arm which I received

at Angoulême; and in the month of February I had in my own private

store an accumulation of nearly six thousand crowns.

Not twelve months before I should have considered that fortune as

quite sufficient for all my wants and wishes through life; but my

feelings had changed; I desired more, far more. What was it that was

at my heart? Was it avarice? Oh, no! What was it, then? I cannot tell.

There was a hope, and an expectation, and a looking forward into the

future, that made me greedy without greediness, and aspiring without

ambition.

I must now return to speak for a moment of one whom I have not noticed

for some time. The progress of young Martin Vern was slow but steady;

and at the end of about a month or six weeks he was enabled to sit up

and walk about the camp. In a week more he could ride out with me on

horseback, when with no particular enterprising view I went forth to

reconnoitre the enemy or examine the country around. From his uncle he

had received no intelligence up to that period at which the Protestant

army was marching upon Saumur, being completely master of the country

between the Loire and the Charente. But a terrible storm was gathering

to the east, where the army of the Duke of Anjou was daily increasing

in strength, and moving rapidly towards us. A degree of ferocity, too,

was beginning to animate both parties. The Count de Lude attacked the

town of Mirabeau; received its surrender upon capitulation, and yet

ordered the greater part of the garrison to be put to the sword in

cold blood. The wrath and indignation of the Protestants now exceeded

all bounds, especially as La Borde and his brother, who were among the

first victims at Mirabeau, were universally loved and admired in the

army. No one felt their death more bitterly than the Admiral de

Coligny; and, swearing by all he held sacred that he would avenge

them, he refused all terms of capitulation to the town of St. Florent,

which he was then besieging, but gave the garrison notice to defend

themselves to the last, as beyond all doubt he would put every man to

the sword.

I was myself, at the time, marching forward with a large body of

troops towards Loudun; but I heard shortly afterward that the admiral

had too terribly kept his word. We came in presence of the enemy in

the neighbourhood of Loudun; and on the assembling of the whole

Protestant force, it was found that we were not much inferior in

number to our antagonists. But the weather had now become extremely

severe; and the Duke of Anjou not judging it prudent to risk a general

battle at that moment, retired, leaving us to take a little repose in

winter-quarters.

Some days before he retreated, however, I was at length rejoined by

the good youth Andriot, who bore a letter from Martin Vern, announcing

that he would speedily join us in our quarters. Andriot himself had

much to tell; for he had been at the Chateau de Blancford, and had

borne tidings of all my proceedings, as far as he knew them, to those

in whom he believed I was interested at my ancient home. He repeated

to me all the kind things that the boys had said; all the affectionate

words of old La Tour; and he told me how Louise's eyes had sparkled

when she saw him; how she had made him repeat over and over again

everything that related to me; and how she had wept to hear of my good

success, which the youth declared he could not understand at all,

though I understood it right well. He had taken care, he said, as far

as possible, to keep out of the way of the baron; but he was caught

the second day of his visit, and made his escape as fast as he could,

to avoid being beaten out with stirrup-leathers, which my worthy

cousin threatened highly.

The letter of Martin Vern gave but little intelligence of anything but

his own approach, and we looked anxiously for his arrival during three

or four days; at the end of which time, as I was sitting with his

nephew in my quarters at the little village of Troismoutiers, the good

merchant made his appearance, accompanied by a much more imposing

train of followers than he had displayed when I last saw him. His

first attention was of course given to his nephew; but, after embraces

and congratulations, he turned to me to speak on my affairs, and told

me that he had succeeded in one part of his mission, but had been

unsuccessful in another. The dagger, he said, he had not been able to

redeem, having found that my friend Monsieur Stuart had already

redeemed it when he heard how fortunate I had been in the army, with

the purpose of carrying it to me direct. This intelligence mortified

me a good deal; but the worthy merchant had consolation for me.

"I have seen your fair cousin," he said, "and a beautiful creature she

is. Not knowing whether there was anything private in your letter or

not, I delivered it to her as she passed through the room where the

baron kept me waiting; and the tidings that you gave her must have

moved her much, for she first turned so pale that I thought she would

have fainted, and then grew red again, and pressed your letter to her

lips, and thanked me a thousand times for bearing it. As she ran away

to read it, and I did not see her when I went back again to the

chateau, I feared that I should have no answer to give you; but the

servant who brought me, two days after, some bonds for the money that

your cousin wanted, gave me also this letter for you, and I think it

is in a woman's writing."

The moment I saw it I knew Louise's hand; and, approaching the sconce,

I tore it open and read--oh, how my heart beat! oh, how nearly were my

eyes overflowing as I read the sweet, the dear, the tender, the

affectionate words with which she greeted me.

"Dearest, dearest Henry!" it began, "how can I ever thank you for the

comfort, for the consolation, for the joy that your letter has given

me! the only consolation, the only joy that I have had since you left

me! I will not upbraid you for leaving me without bidding me adieu;

for to fly was all that you could do, and to go without farewell saved

me, perhaps, a long and bitter pang, even though it denied me a sad

and painful pleasure. The news of your success, from your own hand, is

indeed gratifying; but farther accounts of your success have now

reached me, and I trust in Heaven that they may be true.

"Oh, Henry! can I doubt anything that is told me of you, which

represents you as braver, and nobler, and more generous than any one

else? Perhaps it is all very foolish to think in this way; but you

have been my companion from my childhood; the kindest, the dearest,

the best of brothers to me! the one that I have loved the most on all

the earth since my poor mother's death. How, then, can I think

sufficiently of you? how can I think at all of any one else with hope

and comfort than of you? My two poor brothers, Charles and Albert, are

suffering under the same dark and cheerless fate as myself; and when

we steal up to sit together in the room that once was yours, we talk

of you and of all your kindness, and of the days that are gone by for

ever; and we mingle our tears together when we think that we may never

see him again whom we all loved so dearly. They indeed vow that, when

they are able, they will fly to join you at the army, and fight under

your sword. But what is to become of me?

"But I will not make you sad, Henry, with my sadness; nor will I dwell

upon all that is terrible to me, and painful in this house at this

moment. From the little that you saw, you may conceive the rest; and

nothing is too terrible to be true. Perhaps, if you were to write to

my father, it might do good; for, though he is very much exasperated

against you, and will not even hear your name mentioned from any of

us, yet when I have heard other people praise you, and mention some

high deed you have done, my father's eyes have looked bright, and I

have the thought he seemed somewhat proud that you should be his near

relation. Of his plans or his purposes at present I can give you no

account. He is evidently wretched here; and I have heard some words

spoken in regard to a journey to the capital if a truce or peace were

to take place, or if a safeguard could be obtained from the court.

When I see him so unhappy, I would fain console him, but he will not

be consoled; and the moment I attempt to do it, the expression of his

face changes from melancholy to anger.

"You tell me to think of you, and that you think of me constantly. Oh,

dear Henry! if you could see my thoughts, you could never fancy that

you were forgotten even for a moment by

"LOUISE DE BLANCFORD."

The worthy merchant had not been long with us before he was summoned

to the presence of the Prince de Condé, to whom his arrival had been

notified; and I was not allowed mere than a few minutes alone to dream

over the letter of Louise, when an officer from the admiral warned me

to have everything prepared to march before daybreak on the following

morning, for the purpose of attacking the Catholic army in its

retreat.

When morning came the admiral himself led the _avant garde_, while the

Prince of Condé followed at the head of the rest of the forces; and

I, with my own troop and another small troop which was placed under my

command for the purpose, was ordered to man[oe]uvre on the prince's

right, for the purpose of deceiving the enemy into the belief that we

were marching in three divisions. The task was allotted to me, because

it was well known that I had thoroughly reconnoitred the whole country

on that side during the three or four preceding days. The issue of the

attempt would have been more fortunate, however, had they attached me

to the admiral's division; for we were at that time in a part of the

country filled with Catholics, and I have not the slightest doubt that

both the generals were purposely deceived by their guides. Of the

admiral we saw nothing for a long time after his departure; and the

Prince de Condé, beginning his march about half an hour before

daybreak, was led straight on to the enemy's camp, instead of

approaching it on the north, as he had intended.

About eight o'clock in the morning, both he and I perceived the

position of the Duke of Anjou, strongly intrenched and flanked by a

stream, but not the slightest appearance of the admiral on any side;

and, from the whole aspect of the scene, the strongest proof that

Coligny had not even approached the enemy's camp. Notwithstanding the

great inferiority of numbers, however, the prince determined to

commence the attack, seeing clearly that the admiral had been misled,

and hoping that the sound of the cannon would bring him up to the

field of battle. The order was then given for the skirmishers to

advance; and, according to the directions I had received, I made the

greatest possible display of my forces on the right, occupying the

attention and diverting the efforts of a part of the Duke of Anjou's

army.

The troops that the Prince de Condé had thrown forward were met by the

cavalry of Souline, Monsalis, and La Vallette, and driven back for

some way at the point of the sword; but the famous Count de Montgomery

and several other distinguished officers caused the cannon to be

brought forward upon the height, and opened a sharp fire upon the

duke's encampment. Each party was animated by the same courage and

spirit; the troops on both sides were fighting under the eyes of their

most celebrated leaders; and the advantages of the day remained so

completely balanced, that if the admiral had come up in time, the camp

of the duke must have been forced, and his army in all probability

annihilated.

In the mean time, Martigue, at the head of three cornets of horse, had

come out to reconnoitre my strength; but it luckily so happened that

the small body of men which had been placed under my command in

addition to my own troop, consisted principally of horse arquebusiers,

and I contrived, by thinly lining the hedges with these soldiers

dismounted, while I filled up the gaps with my cavalry, to make my

force appear much larger than it really was. Martigue, who was an old

and experienced soldier, at first seemed to entertain great suspicions

of what was really the case, and advanced up the hill with a resolute

face, as if he had been determined to dislodge me.

Although I had no chance in contending with him, I determined not to

give way till I was forced; and, suffering him calmly to come

completely within shot, I ordered the arquebusiers to fire and then

spring upon their horses. This was done through the hedges with

considerable effect, several of the shots telling in the midst of

Martigue's own troop, and producing great confusion, while what seemed

to them a body of fresh cavalry appeared behind the hedges, and

decided their retreat. The shortness of the daylight at that period of

the year favoured not a little the Duke of Anjou; for, or the arrival

of the admiral, who had been led several miles out of his way, the day

was found to be too near the close for any farther advantage to be

gained.

Not a few difficulties and dangers, however, presented themselves to

the Protestant army when it contemplated a retreat, and the prince

determined to stop upon the ground he had occupied. Just as it was

turning dark, this resolution was notified to me by an officer, who

brought me also high praises from the prince, not for having fought

well, but for having avoided fighting. His orders now were to retreat

a little from the ground I occupied, to do my best to cover my right

flank, and to send him instant notice in case of attack, making what

head against the enemy I could, in order to give him time for

preparation. He would have sent me more men, he said, but the position

that both he and the admiral occupied was so hazardous that he could

not spare any.

My retreat was easily effected; but, as I came down the hill, I was

somewhat alarmed and surprised by seeing a large body of men moving up

in the dusk across one of the wide open fields of that part of the

country. In the dim twilight I could not distinguish anything farther

than that there must be two or three thousand men, with what seemed to

be artillery; and I was upon the point of sending off intelligence of

the fact to the Prince de Condé, when the sound of some bells, such as

they hang round the necks of the draught oxen, caught my ear, and made

me comprehend at once what sort of apparition this was. It proved that

a rascally guide, who had accompanied the attendants, camp followers,

and others who were bringing up the baggage, had misled this important

body also, and was guiding it direct into the midst of the Duke of

Anjou's men. An immense booty it certainly would have been to the

Catholics had I not fortunately met the mass of rabble horseboys,

suttlers, bad men, bad women, and baggage wagons that were thus

trooping on into the hands of the enemy. Approaching cautiously, that

I might be quite sure I was right, I called out as soon as I had

ascertained the fact, and commanded this great procession to halt. At

the very first word, the guide, it seems, would have fled; but the

leader of the party, who was a man of execution and an old soldier,

had entertained suspicions for some time that all was not right, and,

on the man's attempt to spur away, shot him through the head. As soon

as some explanations had taken place between myself and the rest, a

stratagem struck me, which I instantly proceeded to put in practice.

All the men who had just come up were very willing to put themselves

under my command; and, returning up the hill till I came within sight

of the lights of the enemy's camp, I formed an encampment there,

defending it as well as I could with carts and wagons. I then

collected together all the most likely varlets that I could find, put

my own men in command over them, and arming them to the best of my

power, prepared to defend that post in case of need, making sure that,

for an hour or two at least, I could completely cover the right of the

Prince de Condé. I despatched a messenger to him, however, to tell him

what had occurred, and to say that, if he thought fit, when he and the

admiral fired their cannon at nine o'clock, as was very customary, I

would do the same, as there was an old dismounted culverine in one of

the baggage-wagons, which would the more completely serve to impose

upon the enemy.

On his return the messenger told me the prince laughed heartily; and,

entering into the spirit of the thing at once, bade me follow out my

plan according to my own proposal. It took some time, indeed, to get

out the culverine, to place it in such a position that it could be

fired without danger, and to draw out a nail which had been driven

into the touchhole. This was all accomplished, however, before the

hour appointed; and no sooner was the gun fired from the quarters of

the Prince de Condé, than the admiral on one hill and I on the other

shot off our ordnance, doubtless much to the surprise, and somewhat to

the consternation, of the camp below.

Indeed, our position formed a scene altogether not a little striking

and beautiful; and somewhat imposing and majestic it must have

appeared to the enemy, who could see it all at once. I had gone forth

to fire the culverine myself, fancying that, what between its

antiquity and the quantity of powder with which it had been crammed,

in order to make the report the louder, it might do what it did not,

and burst under the operation. I then gazed, with feelings near akin

to awe, along the range of the camp, and the immense numbers of fires

lighted all along the lines to keep the people warm, blazing lightly

over a great extent of the opposite hill, and sweeping quite down

across the mouth of the valley where the Prince de Condé's division

remained, till the illumination was taken up again by the people who

were with me on those heights. There, too, at about the distance of

three quarters of a mile, were the fires and lights of various kinds

in the camp of the Duke of Anjou, while between that globe of flame

and the semicircle of fire that surrounded it on our side, there

remained a dark black ring, on which the struggle of the morning had

been carried on, and in which nothing was now to be seen but a single

lantern, or a torch wandering here and there, and seeking for the

wounded or the dead.

As I stood and gazed, the murmur of merriment which was kept up by the

varlets and the people of the little encampment behind me was carried

away by the wind, which blew strong from the northeast, and borne upon

its wings from the camp of the admiral came suddenly one of the

Protestant psalms, sung by several thousands of voices at once, and

sweeping mournfully but sweetly through the dark and solemn night. If

I joined not in the melody, I joined at least in the prayer that it

conveyed on high; and I was listening still with no small delight,

when the youth Andriot plucked me by the sleeve, and told me that

there was somebody who wished to speak with me in the encampment.

There was a meaning look in the youth's face--a mixture of joy and

archness which I did not at all understand; but I followed without

farther question to a tent which had been prepared for me, and towards

which he now led the way. There were lights within, and a good number

of people standing round it; and in drawing back the flap of the tent,

I saw a table laid out with a very splendid supper, which, as I

afterward found, had been prepared for the Prince de Condé, and who,

probably, that night went without. But that which surprised me much

more (for I was well aware that the whole provisions of the army were

with my part of the encampment) was to see a respectable-looking

elderly lady with her back towards me, and an old man with white hair

bending down to point out to her something in a book upon the table.

The little noise I made in entering did not disturb them; but my first

step in the tent caused the old man to raise his head, and, to my

inexpressible astonishment, I beheld good old Monsieur La Tour; while

the old lady, turning round, displayed to my sight the well-known

features of her who had been the faithful attendant of the former

Baroness de Blancford and her daughter for several years.

The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and II · 第 6 / 13 章