HOW HE ANNOYED MONSIEUR DE LA CHATRE
I had never seen Henri of Navarre, before, but had often heard him
described, and no other man exactly fitted his description. His favorite
oath confirmed my recognition.
He took the letter, saying, "It looks as if it had been through fire
and flood."
"I had to swim the Seine with it," I said.
He read it, sitting on his horse in the middle of the road, I standing
beside the horse, the other six riders eyeing me curiously.
Having finished it, he looked at me with some interest and approval. "And
what made you run from us?" he asked.
"Sire, there were seven horsemen left in the party that has been chasing
me for some days past. Counting seven in your group, I too quickly
assumed that it was the same."
The King of Navarre laughed, and ordered one of the lackeys to give me
his horse and proceed afoot to the nearest town. When I was mounted, he
asked me to ride beside him.
"The speed at which you rode excited our curiosity," he explained, "and
that is why we gave chase."
I learned, later, that Henri and three of his gentlemen, with three
valets, had been inspecting the defences of one of his Gascon towns, and
were now returning to Nerac. He sometimes traversed those parts of his
French provinces where his authority as governor was recognized, without
any state, and often without a guard.
In reply to his questions, I said that I preferred a military position to
a civil one, but confessed my inexperience. He told me that I might serve
as ensign in one of his regiments, at Nerac, until I should acquire some
knowledge of military affairs, when he would give me a captain's
commission, and I might enlist a company.
I told him of the destruction of my château, and the loss of my money. He
thereupon required me to accept the horse on which I rode, and a purse
which one of the valets handed over to me. As he then beckoned one of his
gentlemen to his side, I fell back. We entered Nerac in the evening. As
soon as the gate was passed, the King and his followers turned towards
the château, and I took the main street to an inn.
The King of Navarre kept his promises. I had been ensign for only a few
months, stationed at Nerac, when he sent for me, and informed me that he
intended to augment his army, and that he would maintain a company of my
raising. He caused a captain's commission to be given to me before I left
the château. I walked thence, down the avenue of fine trees, which were
now in full leaf, before the château, debating with myself the
possibility of easily raising a company. When I reached the square before
the inn, I heard from within a human roar which had a familiar sound.
Entering, I found that it proceeded from the stentorian lungs of Blaise
Tripault, the young soldier who had aided my flight to Gascony by killing
two Guisards in my defence. He was sitting at a table, very drunk.
"Ah, Blaise Tripault," I cried, "I see that your father prevails
in you now!"
He recognized me, threw his bottle of wine out of the open window, and
made an attempt at sobriety.
"You have been long on the way to Nerac," I went on, "but you come just
in time to keep your promise. I enroll you first in the company which the
King has commissioned me to raise."
"I thank you, monsieur," he replied. "I will now go to bed, and will come
to you as soon as I am sober."
He was of great use to me in enlisting the company. He scoured the
country daily, and brought me recruits. When the roll was complete, I was
ordered to remain at Nerac for a time. Subsequently, I was sent to
garrison different towns, one after another, not only in Gascony and
parts of Guienne but also in Henri's principality of Béarn and his little
kingdom of Navarre.
I am proud to have had a share in the constant efforts made by Henri of
Navarre, while the world thought him given over entirely to gallantry at
his small but agreeable court, to increase his territory and his
resources against the time when he was to strike the great blows that no
one yet dreamed he was meditating. Thanks to the unwillingness, or
inability, of the King of France to put him in actual possession of his
governorship of Guienne, we had the pleasant task, now and then, of
wresting some town from the troops of the League or of Henri III. Our
Henri had to take by force the places ceded to him by the King of France
as Marguerite's dower, but still withheld from him. One of these was
Cahors, in the taking of which I fought for days in the streets, always
near our Henri, where the heart of the fighting was. It was there that
Blaise Tripault covered himself with glory and the blood of the enemy,
and was openly praised by the King.
But my life in the south had other pleasures besides those of fighting.
As Henri's was a miniature kingdom, so was his court, at cheerful Nerac
or sombre Pau, a miniature court; yet it had its pretty women and
gallant gentlemen. Gaiety visited us, too, from the greater world. When
the King of France and the Queen-mother thought it to their interest to
seem friendly to our Henri, they ordered Marguerite to Nerac. Catherine
herself came with her, bringing the Flying Squadron, that Henri and his
Huguenots might be seduced into the onesided treaties desired by her.
Catherine was one of the few, I think, who foresaw Henri's possible
future. Her astrologer, Cosmo Ruggieri, had predicted that he would
succeed her three sons to the throne of France, and I suppose she could
not endure the thought of this. Better a Guise than a Bourbon, the son
of Jeanne d'Albret. But our Henri might be useful to her as an
instrument to check the Duke of Guise in any attempted usurpation
during the life of her son. Therefore, Henri was to be cajoled while he
was being restrained. But he was not fooled into disadvantageous
compacts or concessions. All that he lost was a single town, which
Catherine caused to be attacked while he was at a fête; but he learned
of this at the fête, and retaliated by taking a town of the French
King's on the same night.
I was presented to Catherine while she was at Nerac. No allusion was made
to the circumstances which had caused my flight from Paris, or, indeed,
to my having ever been in Paris. Yet, from her scrutiny of my features, I
knew that she recalled those circumstances with my name. But Nerac was
not the place where it would serve her to concern herself about me. I
learned from one of Catherine's gentlemen that Mlle. d'Arency, who had
not come with her to Nerac, had wedded the Marquis de Pirillaume, who was
jealous and kept her on his estate in Dauphiny, away from the court. I
wished him joy of her.
When Catherine and her troop went back to the French court, leaving
Marguerite at Nerac, they could boast of a few Huguenot gentlemen won
over to their designs, but I was not one of the few. I do not say that I
did not amuse myself where charming women abounded, but I kept my heart
to myself. I had not resolved to become invulnerable to woman, but I had
determined that she by whom I would let myself be wounded should be one
vastly unlike any in Catherine's train. When I should find the woman pure
as beautiful, incapable of guile, I would love. "Somewhere in France," I
often said to myself, "that woman exists. I shall know her when I see
her." As in the former affair, I had my ideal already formed, and was
already in love, watching for the embodiment of that ideal to appear. But
this second ideal was different from the first. And it is time to tell
how at last I met her,--and how, for a while, the reality seemed worse
even than the first. The death of the Duke of Anjou, after his
reconciliation with the King, his brother, and his failure to win the
crown he sought in the Netherlands, was a great event for us in Gascony.
It left our Henri of Navarre next in succession to the throne of France.
And our Henri was a sturdy man, while Henri III. seemed marked by destiny
to follow the three other sons of Catherine to an early grave. It
appeared that Marguerite monopolized all the longevity granted to the
family. But we knew that the Guises and their League would not let our
Huguenot Henri peacefully ascend his throne. Therefore, Henri's policy
was to strengthen himself against the time when the death of Henri III.
should leave the throne vacant for him. It was his interest also to
prevent a usurpation of that throne during the life of Henri III., for
such a usurpation would eventually exclude himself also. Thus
circumstance made him the natural ally of Henri III. It was, conversely,
the interest of the Guises to sow enmity between the two kings. The power
of the League in France, and particularly in Paris, was now so great that
Henri III. dared not oppose the wishes of the Duke of Guise. He was
reduced to devices for gaining time. And so, against his own interest, he
sanctioned the war which the League presently demanded against the
Huguenots,--a war which might do two things for the Duke of Guise:
destroy the next heir to the throne, and deprive the present King of his
chief resource against a usurpation. For the present, the Duke of Guise
cloaked his design by having the Pope proclaim the old Cardinal de
Bourbon heir to the throne, our Henri being declared ineligible on
account of heresy.
In the summer of 1585, the King of France issued anti-Huguenot edicts
required by the League. Governors of provinces were ordered to make it
uncomfortable for the "heretics." Several of them promptly obeyed,
arresting some Huguenots for remaining in their provinces, and arresting
others for trying to escape therefrom. By this time, Henri of Navarre had
gathered a sufficient army and acquired a sufficient number of towns to
hold his own in Guienne, and, indeed, throughout southwestern France. The
Prince de Condé also put a Huguenot army in the field. Pending the actual
opening of war, which the edicts of Henri III. foreshadowed, our Henri
maintained a flying camp in Guienne. Every day recruits came, some of
them with stories of persecution to which they had been subjected, some
with accounts of difficulty in escaping from their provinces. One day I
was summoned to the presence of Henri of Navarre.
"M. de la Tournoire," said he, speaking with his usual briskness and
directness, "there are, in most of the provinces of France, many
Huguenots who have publicly recanted, to save their lives and estates.
Many of these are secretly for us. They would join me, but they fear to
do so lest their estates be confiscated. These are to be assured that
what they may lose now by aiding me shall some day be restored to them.
Here is a list of a number of such gentlemen in the province of Berry,
and you are to give them the assurances necessary to enlist them in our
cause. Use what persuasions you can. Take your company, and find some
place of concealment among the hills of the southern border of Berry. You
can thus provide escort in crossing the border for those who may need it.
Where you can in any way aid a Huguenot to escape from the province,
where you can rescue one from death or prison, do so, always on condition
of promised service in our cause. As for the gentlemen whose names are on
this list, have them bring, as contributions, what money and arms they
can. We are in even greater need of these than of men. Impress upon these
gentlemen that their only hope of ultimate security lies in our triumph.
It is a task of danger with which I charge you, monsieur, and I know that
you will, therefore, the more gladly undertake it. The governor of Berry,
M. de la Chatre, is one of the bulwarks of the League. I learn that he is
enforcing the edicts of Henri III. against the Protestants with the
greatest zeal. He is devoted to the Duke of Guise, and is one of our most
formidable enemies. It will not, therefore, be well for you to fall into
his hands. Go, monsieur, and God be with you!"
I bowed my thanks for the favor of this dangerous mission, and went
away with the list in my doublet, proud of having been made the
confidant of Henri's resolution to fight for his rights to the end. I
was elated, too, at the opportunity to work against the King of France
and the Duke of Guise.
To annoy and hamper M. de la Chatre in his work of carrying out the
public edicts of the King and the secret designs of the Duke, would give
me the keenest joy. For once, both my great enemies, usually so opposed
to each other in interest, could be injured at the same time by the same
deeds; and such deeds would help my beloved captain, by whom I had been
chosen to perform them. I could hardly contain my happiness when I
returned to my company, and ordered immediate preparations for a night's
march northward.
We set out, myself and Tripault mounted, the others afoot, with several
horses bearing provisions and supplies. Marching at night, and concealing
ourselves in the forests by day, we at last reached the mountains that
form part of the southern boundary of Berry. They were thickly wooded,
and though the month of August made them a series of masses of deep
green, they presented a sombre aspect.
"It is somewhere up there," I said, pointing toward the still and
frowning hills before us, "that we are to find a burrow, from which to
issue forth, now and then, to the plains on the other side."
"The only man in the company who knows this country," replied my devoted
squire, Blaise Tripault, "is Frojac, but he makes up for the ignorance of
the others by knowing it very well. He can lead us to the most deserted
spot among these mountains, where there is an abandoned château, which is
said to be under a curse."
"If part of it is under a roof as well, so much the better," I answered.
"Bring Frojac to me."
Blaise rode back along the irregular line formed by my rude soldiers,
picked out an intelligent looking young arquebusier, and led him forward
to me. I made this man, Frojac, our guide.
After toilsome marches, forcing our way up wooded ascents devoid of human
habitation, and through almost impenetrable thickets of brushwood, we
crossed the highest ridge of the mountain chain, and from a bare spot, a
natural clearing, gazed down on the Creuse, which wound along the line
formed by the northern base of the mountains. Beyond that lay the
province of Berry, which was to be the scene of our operations. Some
leagues to the northeast, crowning a rocky eminence that rose from the
left bank of the Creuse, stood a mass of grim-looking towers and high
gray walls. From the southern side of this edifice, a small town ran down
the declivity to the plain.
"What is that place yonder?" I asked.
"It is the town and château of Clochonne," said Frojac.
"Who occupies the château?"
"It belongs to M. de la Chatre, the governor of the province, who
sometimes comes there. A part of it is occupied by a garrison."
We resumed our progress through the forest, now descending the northern
slope of the ridge. After some hours, when night was already beginning to
fall in the woods, Frojac pointed ahead to a knoll covered with huge
trees between whose trunks the space was choked with lesser vegetation.
"There it is," he said. "The Château de Maury."
We made our way through the thicket, and came suddenly upon ruined walls,
rising in the midst of trees. Wild growths of various kinds filled up
what had been the courtyard, and invaded the very doors. The broken walls
and cracked towers themselves seemed as much a part of nature as the
trees and bushes were. Branches thrust themselves through apertures in
the crumbling stone. Southward from the foot of the knoll rose the
mountains, eastward and westward extended an undulating natural platform
that interrupted the descent of the mountain side. Northward the ground
fell in a steep precipice to the left bank of the Creuse, along which ran
a little-used road from Clochonne, which was northeast, to Narjec, which
was southwest.
"Is there a path down the slope, by which we could reach that road,
should we wish to go north by way of Clochonne?" I asked.
"I do not think so," replied Frojac. "But there used to be a road from
here to Clochonne, through the forest. It has not been used since the
Sieur de Maury left, twenty years ago, to hunt for gold in the new world.
They said that, before going, he made a compact with the devil, here, by
which Satan was to lead him to a land of gold across the sea. The devil
is believed to be taking care of his estate until he returns. Perhaps
this road has not been entirely wiped out by the forest."
A part of the château was yet under roof. This portion included the hall
and three or four chambers above it. On the day after our arrival, we
found the road through the forest still sufficiently open to serve us for
expeditious egress. This abandoned way did not itself go to Clochonne,
but it ran into a road that went from that town southward across the
mountain. At the point of junction was the abode of an old woodman and
his wife, where the couple maintained a kind of inn for the
entertainment of people crossing the mountain. This man, Godeau, was
rheumatic, bent, thin, timid, shrill-voiced, and under the domination of
his large, robust, strong-lunged spouse, Marianne. By means of a little
flattery, a gold piece, promises of patronage, and hints of dire
vengeance upon any who might betray me, I secured this woman's complete
devotion. These two were the only human dwellers within two leagues of
our chosen hiding-place.
In Guienne, my master considered as enemies those who did not acknowledge
his authority, and he provisioned his army at their expense. Inasmuch as
the province of Berry was making war on our party, I treated it as
hostile country, subject to pillage, according to the customs of war. It
is true, some of its people were friendly to our cause, but it was as
much their duty to contribute to our maintenance, since we were fighting
in their behalf, as it was our right to take from those to whom our
relation was one of warfare. So I gave my men permission to forage,
putting but one condition upon them,--that of losing their lives rather
than allow our hiding-place to be disclosed. Thus, by virtue of many
nightly visits to farms in the vicinity of Clochonne and Narjec, we
contrived to avoid the pangs of an empty stomach.
Having established my company on a living basis at Maury, I began with
relish the work of annoying M. de la Chatre. I sent out certain of my
men, severally, to different parts of southern Berry as seekers of
information. In the guise of peasants, or of soldiers going to serve in
the army which the Governor, La Chatre, was then augmenting, they learned
much that was valuable to me. It is written, under the title of "How the
Lord Protected His Own and Chastised His Enemies in Berry," in the book
called "The Manifold Mercies of God to His Children," by the pastor
Laudrec, who has reported rightly what I related to him: how we made
recruits for Henri of Navarre by finding out Huguenots in towns and
villages and convincing them that they were sure to be arrested should
they remain in Berry; how we guided these out of the province by various
ways of our own discovery, across the mountain; how we interrupted the
hanging of several men at Issoudun, who had been condemned for heresy and
treason, and sent them in safety to Guienne; how certain of my men,
without my authority, despoiled Catholic churches of their instruments of
idolatry, and thus helped to replenish the treasury of our master; how I
once marched my company by night to a wood near Bourges, lay in wait
there until a guard came, conducting captured Huguenots for trial,
attacked the guard, rescued the prisoners, and protected them in a
hurried flight to the border, whence they proceeded to swell the army of
our Henri; and how we served our cause in numerous other exploits, which
I need not relate here, as you may read them in Laudrec's book, printed
in Geneva.
The many secret departures of Huguenots from southern Berry, despite the
vigilance of the garrisons at Clochonne and other frontier strongholds,
must naturally have attracted the attention of the authorities, and so
must the sudden public appearances that I made with my company on
occasions like that at Issoudun and that near Bourges. My men, who moved,
unknown, among the people, began to hear reports of a mysterious captain
who hid in the southern hills and sallied forth at night to spirit
Huguenots away. To this mysterious captain and his band were attributed
not only all the exploits that we did accomplish, but many that we did
not; and some daring robberies, of which we were innocent, were laid to
our charge.
Finally, in September, I had evidence that our deeds had begun to make an
impression on M. de la Chatre, the illustrious governor of the province
and of the Orleannais as well. One of my men, Roquelin, saw in the
market-place of Chateauroux an offer of five hundred crowns for the
capture of this unknown rebel captain, which document was signed by La
Chatre. I here saw an opportunity to make myself known in high places as
one capable of harming and defying his enemies, despite their greatness.
I was rejoiced at the hope of acquainting the Duke of Guise and the King
of France with the fact that I had survived to work defiantly against
their cause, under the very nose of one of their most redoubtable
servants. I had not been of sufficient consequence for the Duke to fear,
or for the King to protect, but now I was of sufficient consequence, as
their enemy, for a price to be put on my head. So I sent one of my clever
fellows, Sabray, to fasten by night beside La Chatre's placard in
Chateauroux, a proclamation of my own, in which I offered ten crowns for
the head of M. de la Chatre, and twenty crowns for that of his master,
the Duke of Guise. I appended this signature: "The Sieur de la Tournoire,
who does not forget." I knew that some of La Chatre's enemies would take
great pleasure in making this known to the Duke of Guise, and that the
latter would reproach the King with my continued existence. It irritates
the great to be defied by the small, and to irritate these two great ones
was my delight.
I soon learned, with glee, that my return of compliments had reached the
knowledge of the governor. Maugert brought me word of a notice posted in
Clochonne, in which La Chatre doubled his offer and termed me the
"heretic, rebel, traitor, and robber calling himself Sieur de la
Tournoire."
While I gave myself the pleasure of annoying M. de la Chatre, I did not
neglect the more important service imposed on me by Henri of Navarre.
Accompanied only by Blaise Tripault, and travelling by night, I visited,
one after another, the gentlemen named on my master's list, and used
what eloquence I had, pointing out the expediency of assuring future
security by making present sacrifices for our cause. Many of them
required very little persuasion. On hearing that Henri of Navarre had
given his word to defend his succession with his sword, they nobly left
their estates and went to join his army, carrying with them what money
and arms they could take. Thanks to the guidance of my men, they eluded
the garrisons on the border.
It was in early October, when the forests were turning yellow, brown, and
red, and the fallen leaves began to lie in the roads, that I started out
with Blaise Tripault to visit the gentleman named last on the list.
"Monsieur," said Blaise, as we neared the end of our hidden forest road
and were approaching the inn of Godeau, "I have in me a kind of feeling
that this, being our last excursion, is likely to be the most dangerous.
It would doubtless please Fortune to play us an ugly trick after having
served us so well hitherto."
"Nonsense!" I replied.
"I believe that is what the famous Bussy d'Amboise said when he was
warned not to keep his appointment with Mme. de Monsoreau," returned
Blaise; "yet he was, none the less, killed by the rascals that lay in
ambush with her husband."
"Thanks to the most kingly King of France, Henri III., who advised M. de
Monsoreau to force his wife to make the fatal appointment with Bussy.
Thanks, also, to the truly grateful Duke of Anjou, who rewarded Bussy for
his faithful service by concurring in the plot for his assassination."
"The Duke was worse than the King, for the King has been loyal to his
chosen favorites. Think of the monument he erected in honor of De Quelus,
and the others who got their deaths in that great duel in the
horse-market. _Par dieu!_ I should like to have seen those girl-men of
the King and those Guisards killing one another!"
"I have observed, Blaise, that you take an extraordinary pleasure in the
slaughter of Guisards."
"I was in Coligny's house, monsieur, on the night of the St. Bartholomew.
I was one of those who, at the Admiral's command, fled to the roof, and
from the roof of the next house I saw Coligny's body thrown into his
courtyard, and the Duke of Guise turn it over with his foot and wipe the
blood from the face to see if it were indeed my old captain's. Since
then, the sight of the white cross of Guise stirs in me all the hell that
my diabolical father transmitted to me. And I should not like to see you
fall into the hands of this Chatre, who is the right arm of the Duke of
Guise in Berry. That is why I give heed to the premonition that troubles
me regarding this journey."
"Certainly we cannot abandon the journey."
"No, but we can take unusual precautions, monsieur. Reports of our doings
are everywhere. Has it never occurred to you that you are, in appearance,
exactly the sort of man who would be taken for our leader? Ought you not
to disguise yourself?"
"An excellent idea, Blaise! I shall put on your clothes, and you shall
put on mine,--I shall pass as your lackey. It will be quite amusing."
"That is not the disguise I should have suggested," said Blaise, looking
not too well pleased with the idea. "It would require me to pass as a
gentleman."
But I saw possibilities of fun in the thing, and welcomed any means of
enlivening our excursion. Therefore, we dismounted at Godeau's inn, and
made the exchange of attire, much against the liking of Blaise, who now
repented of having advised any disguise at all. My clothes were a little
too tight for Blaise, for I was of medium size, and he puffed and turned
red in the face, and presented a curious appearance of fierceness and
discomfort. When I looked at him, I could not help laughing, and he met
my glance with a grim and reproachful countenance. I did not think that
his brown doublet and breeches and brown felt hat and feather were much
disguise for me. As we rode along, I diverted myself by trying to assume
a servile mien, which did not easily fit my rather bold face, prominent
nose, keen gray eyes, up-curling brown mustache and pointed brown beard.
With his curly reddish hair and beard, defiant mustache, honest, big,
blue eyes, swelling red cheeks, and robust body, Blaise looked like one
who must have had his dignities thrust upon him very recently.
We reached, without accident, our destination,--the château of the Baron
d'Equinay,--and that gentleman was speedily won by the assurances that I
bore him from Henri of Navarre. He desired, before starting for Guienne,
to go to Paris, where he had resources, and he rode off northward at the
same moment when we departed southward to return to Maury.
"It is well!" I cried to Blaise, as we rode in the bracing air of the
October morning. "We have carried our King's message to every one of his
chosen adherents in Berry. We ride through the province of M. de la
Chatre, breathe his fresh air, absorb his sunshine as freely as he does
himself. You see how reliable were your premonitions when we last set out
from Maury."
"It is not too late yet, monsieur," growled Blaise, whose temper was ill
while he wore my clothes; "we are not yet back at Maury."
"You will talk less dismally over a bottle of good wine, Blaise.
Therefore, I intend to stop at the first inn on the way. I hope it is a
good one, for I am very hungry."
"There is an inn at this end of Fleurier," said Blaise, "but I would not
stop if I were you."
But I was not to be moved from my intention. When a man has finished a
set task, it is time to eat and drink. Therefore, we stopped at the
little inn at the northern edge of Fleurier. A gray, bent innkeeper, very
desirous of pleasing, welcomed us and went to look after our horses,
while Blaise, acting the part of master, ordered a black-eyed, pretty
inn-maid to serve us dinner in a private chamber. The room assigned us
was at the head of a stairway leading from the kitchen. We had no sooner
seated ourselves than our ears were assailed by the clatter of many
horses on the road outside. They stopped before the inn, and we heard the
voices of two men who entered the kitchen, and of a great number who
remained without. When the inn-maid brought us a bottle of wine, Blaise
asked her whose cavalcade it was that waited before the inn.
"It is that of the governor of the province, M. de la Chatre," said she,
"who is below with his secretary, M. de Montignac."
And she left the room in haste to help serve so distinguished a guest.