Of the numerous sieges on both sides which marked the struggle of Henry
IV. of France for his crown, we have selected that of Cahors as best
displaying the character of that hero and the men and times he lived in.
Henry IV., whilst king of Navarre, resolved to gain possession of
Cahors. That city is surrounded on all sides by the river Lot,
which serves it as a fosse. It had a garrison of two thousand men,
and Vesins, its governor, was a soldier of acknowledged valour and
great experience. Its citizens, always armed, were never off their
guard. Henry assembled his council of war, composed of valiant and
tried captains, and all pronounced the enterprise hazardous. Their
representations were useless. “Everything is possible to me,” said
he, “with men as brave as those I consult.” On the 5th of May, he
set out from Montauban, in excessively hot weather, and arrived in
the middle of the night within a quarter of a league of Cahors. His
troops there quenched their thirst at a fountain which flowed under
a nursery of young walnut-trees. Twelve soldiers marched forward for
the purpose of fastening a petard to the gates of the city. Fifty men,
commanded by Captain Saint Martin, followed them closely; Roquilaure
came next, with forty gentlemen and sixty soldiers; and after them,
Henry of Navarre, with nine hundred men. Twelve hundred arquebusiers,
in six platoons, closed the march. There were three gates to be forced.
The petard attached to the first made so small an opening, that it
was necessary to enlarge it with axes. The first passed through with
difficulty; but the soldiers who followed them had time to file through
in sufficiently great numbers. A furious storm which raged at the time
did not permit the inhabitants to distinguish between the noise of the
thunder and the report of the petards, which had broken down their
gates. Henry’s soldiers, on first entering the city, met with forty
men and two hundred arquebusiers, almost naked. The baron de Salignac
cut them to pieces, and advanced into Cahors; but he was stopped in
his march by the inhabitants, who, from the tops of the houses, hurled
stones, tiles, pieces of wood, and other missiles upon the heads of
his soldiers. In the mean time, the king of Navarre entered Cahors by
another gate, with which the petard had succeeded better. At length
day appeared, persons and objects were distinguishable, and all either
rushed to the attack or stood firm in defence of the place. In all
the streets it became necessary to force barricades and repulse a
garrison much more numerous than the besiegers. Henry commanded and
fought everywhere at the same time; his valour shrunk from no danger,
though the blows of all the enemies seemed to be directed against him.
He broke two partisans, and his armour was pierced in twenty places.
This terrible combat lasted five days and five nights. The besieged, in
full expectation of assistance, said not a word about surrendering. The
assailants, fatigued with the weight of their armour and the excessive
heat, maintained their posts with the intrepid courage their leader
knew how to inspire. On the fourth day they learnt that the succours
promised to the city were drawing near. At this news, his captains
assembled round Henry, and conjured him to secure a retreat before
the enemy could reach Cahors. Henry, too courageous to know what fear
meant, and heedless of the pain caused by his wounds, replied, with
that coolness which inspires confidence: “It is decreed above what is
to become of me on this occasion. Remember that my retreat from this
city without having taken it, will be the retreat of my life from my
body. My honour is too deeply pledged to allow me to act otherwise;
therefore, only speak to me of fighting, conquering, or dying.”
Reanimated by these words, his soldiers made fresh efforts; and fortune
seconded the efforts of the brave Béarnais. He received a reinforcement
of a hundred horse and five hundred arquebusiers; he secured his posts
in the interior, and marched out to meet the approaching enemy. He
repulsed them; and on his return to the city, the inhabitants having
lost all hope, laid down their arms. There were but few killed in
Henry’s army, but many wounded. The brave and virtuous Vesins had
perished early in the contest; he had a short time before done himself
great honour, by an act of rare generosity. His bravery, degenerating
sometimes into ferocity, had made him numerous enemies; among these
was a gentleman named Régnier, of a mild and polished character. Their
neighbours and friends had exerted themselves in vain to reconcile
them. Régnier was a Huguenot, and Vesins a Catholic. Whilst the cities
of France were being stained with the blood of Huguenots, Régnier
retired to Cahors for safety. But the king had made Vesins governor
of that city, and Régnier was living in daily expectation of being
sacrificed to the vengeance of his enemy, when his door was broken
open, and he saw Vesins, with a drawn sword in his hand, and with the
appearance of furious rage, enter, followed by two armed soldiers.
Régnier, believing his death certain, fell upon his knees and implored
the mercy of Heaven. Vesins in a menacing voice ordered him to get
up, follow him, and mount a horse that was standing at the door.
Régnier left the city with his enemy, who conducted him as far as
Guienne without stopping and without speaking a single word to him.
They arrived together at the château of Régnier, where Vesins, without
alighting from his horse, said to him: “I had it in my power, as thou
mayst see, to profit by the opportunity I have been so long in search
of; but I should have been ashamed to avenge myself thus on a man so
brave as thou art; the peril must be equal when our quarrel is settled;
and it is on that account I have spared thy life. Thou shalt always
find me as disposed to terminate our differences in a manner suitable
to gentlemen, as thou hast found me prompt to deliver thee from an
inevitable death.” “I have no longer, my dear Vesins,” replied Régnier,
“either resolution, strength, or courage against you. Your kindness has
extinguished the heat of my enmity: it is destroyed by your generosity,
which I can never forget. I will henceforward follow you whithersoever
you go; I will be always ready to employ in your service the life you
have given me, and the little bravery you attribute to me.” Régnier
wished to embrace his benefactor; but Vesins, preserving all the
asperity of his character, said: “It is thy business to see whether
thou art my friend or my enemy; I only saved thy life to put thee in a
condition to make a choice.” Without waiting for a reply, he put spurs
to his horse, leaving Régnier, stupified with this strange adventure,
to wonder at the greatness of soul and generosity of him whom he had
considered as his most cruel enemy.
[Illustration: ANECDOTE OF VESINS AND RÉGNIER.]