I. MONCALIERI.
|Had it rested with Bourbon, after the victory of Romagnano he would
have followed Bonnivet across the Alps, and invaded France. But the
ambitious design was frustrated by the jealousy of Lannoy and Pescara,
while Sforza and the other chiefs of the Italian league, perfectly
content with the expulsion of the French from Lombardy, declined to
engage in a war from which they could derive little advantage, and at
once withdrew from the Imperial army.
After pursuing the flying French as far as Susa, Bourbon took the army
to Turin, where he was well received by Carlo III., Duke of Savoy. This
sovereign, who was nearly related to both the contending powers, being
brother-in-law of the Emperor and uncle to François I., endeavoured,
though with imperfect success, to preserve a strict neutrality. He
generally inclined towards the winning side, and since at this juncture
fortune had declared herself in favour of the Emperor, he veered round
in the same direction, and not only allowed the victorious army to
encamp near his capital, but gave its leader a most distinguished
reception.
Meanwhile, efforts were made by the Pope to bring about peace, and with
this view he despatched envoys to Charles V., to François I., and
to Henry VIII., proposing a truce for a year, and offering to act as
mediator. But the proposition was rejected by the three monarchs. Elated
by the success of his army, the Emperor was bent upon fresh conquests,
and felt more disposed to invade France than to make peace with
its ruler. Henry VIII. was of the same opinion; while François I.,
exasperated rather than intimidated by the defeat he had just sustained
in the Milanese, peremptorily refused to enter into any treaty in which
Bourbon should be included.
In Lannoy and Pescara, as we have intimated, Bourbon had secret enemies,
and it was owing to their representations that the invasion of France
was delayed. At the instance of the Viceroy of Naples, who had proceeded
to Madrid to hold a conference with his Imperial master, Charles
V. consented to suspend the execution of his enterprise until the
determination of the King of England could be ascertained, and some time
elapsed, owing to the intrigues of Wolsey, before Henry VIII. gave his
adhesion sented to suspend the execution of his enterprise until the
determination of the King of England could be ascertained, and some time
elapsed, owing to the intrigues of Wolsey, before Henry VIII. gave his
adhesion to the project.
During this long interval, Bourbon remained at Turin, impatiently
awaiting the Emperor's decision.
The Imperial army, which now consisted mainly of Spanish soldiers and
German lanz-knechts, with some few Italian and Swiss mercenaries, was
encamped at Moncalieri, a charming village situated on the declivity
of a hill, forming part of the beautiful Collina di Torino. A princely
habitation, belonging to the Duke of Savoy, crowned the summit of the
hill, and here Bourbon resided. From the terraces of the palace of
Moncalieri a splendid view was commanded of the Alps, of the rich plains
of Lombardy traversed by the Po, and of the fair city of Turin. The
sides of the hill were covered with vineyards, in the midst of which
rose a few flat-roofed habitations, with a church and a campanile.
At the foot of the hill, and extending to the right bank of the river
Po, which flowed past it, lay the camp. Its supplies were derived from
the numerous villages around it, as well as from the adjacent capital.
Nothing could be more enchanting than the palace of Moncalieri, with
its superb saloons, its stately terrace, and exquisite gardens. Yet its
delights could not lure Bourbon from the camp, and he spent the greater
part of each day in inspecting the troops and practising military
manouvres. His aim was to win the regard of the soldiers, and in this he
completely succeeded. They idolised him, as Bayard had been idolised by
the French army.
Of late, the Imperial army had been joined by three leaders of
distinction, the Marquis del Vasto, the Comte de Hohenzollern, and the
Comte de Lodron. The two latter had been appointed by the Emperor to the
command of the lanz-knechts. Of the former we must say a few words. Don
Alonso Avalos, Marquis del Vasto, was a nephew of the renowned Pescara,
and, though barely twenty-one, had already acquired a brilliant military
reputation. He deeply regretted that he had not been a sharer in the
campaign which had just terminated so gloriously for the Imperialists
in the victory of Romagnano. Bourbon, who felt a genuine admiration
for the high military qualities of the young marquis, would fain have
attached him to his side, but Del Vasto, influenced by Pescara, held
himself haughtily aloof. De Hohenzollern and De Lodron, however,
manifested no such jealous feelings.
Though considerably reduced by the withdrawal of the Italian troops, the
Imperial army still formed a large force, comprising nineteen thousand
foot, eleven hundred lances, and fifteen hundred light horse. Of this
force the greater part were experienced soldiers, fond of warfare, and
ready for any enterprise.
One morning, in the early part of June, Bourbon took a solitary walk
upon the terrace of the palace, occasionally glancing down upon the
camp, and noting with interest the movements of the soldiers. The
atmosphere was so soft and balmy, that it might have tranquillised any
breast less troubled than his own. But Nature failed to soothe him then.
All her charms were displayed in vain. The glorious picture stretched
out before him caught his eye, but did not fix his attention. The mighty
Alps were unheeded. Unheeded also was Turin, with its Duomo, churches,
palaces, and convents, encircled by the Dora and the Po. His thoughts
were elsewhere, and his mental gaze was directed towards distant scenes.
He had been some time on the terrace, pacing to and fro, and had just
made up his mind to ride down to the camp, when he perceived a party of
horsemen ascending the hill. As they came from the direction of Turin,
the hope was instantly awakened within his breast that these horsemen
might be the long-expected envoys. And so it proved. Presently, a
chamberlain came forth and informed him that the ambassadors from
the Emperor and from the King of England had arrived, and besought an
immediate audience.
Instantly re-entering the palace, Bourbon proceeded to a cabinet,
and caused the ambassadors to be brought into his presence. They were
announced as the Comte de Beaurain and Doctor Pace. The latter was a
man of middle age, and possessed a handsome countenance, marked by great
quickness and intelligence, a tall, commanding figure, and a dignified
and courteous manner. He was attired in a gown of black velvet, and wore
a close coif of the same material on his head. Long residence in Italy
had given him something of the look and manner of a native of the
country--a resemblance which was heightened by his dark complexion and
dark eyes.
Doctor Pace had studied at Padua under the learned Bombasius, and on
his return to his own country, being recommended to Cardinal Bainbridge,
Archbishop of Canterbury, he accompanied that dignitary to Rome.
Subsequently, Doctor Pace was made secretary of state by Henry VIII.,
and enjoyed in an eminent degree the favour of that capricious monarch.
Some few years prior to our history, Pace had been created Dean of Saint
Paul's, but he had little opportunity of discharging his ecclesiastical
functions, since the chief part of his time was spent abroad. Shortly
before Bourbon's defection he had been sent to Venice to negotiate
between Charles V. and François I., and his conduct on that occasion
established him in the good opinion of his own sovereign. From Venice
he proceeded, by Wolsey's directions, to Rome, with the secret object of
ensuring the elevation of the ambitious Cardinal to the Papacy. In this
he failed, and consequently incurred Wolsey's displeasure. He still,
however, retained the king's favour, and was employed by him on the
present mission to Bourbon.
Well aware of his distinguished abilities. Bourbon received the English
envoy with great consideration, and expressed a lively satisfaction at
seeing him as well as the Comte de Beaurain.
“I hope you bring me good tidings, messeigneurs,” he said. “But I
shall deem nothing good unless you tell me it is agreed that I shall
immediately cross the Alps with the army. By Saint Louis! I have tarried
here long enough.”
“Your highness can scarce complain that you are indifferently lodged,”
remarked Doctor Pace. “For my own part, I could be content to remain for
ever in this delightful palace.”
“I will surrender it to you with pleasure,” said Bourbon. “But keep me
not in suspense. Am I to cross the Alps? Have My royal allies decided to
invade France?”
“Such is their determination,” replied Beaurain. “And they entrust the
command of the enterprise to your highness.”
“Thank Heaven for that!” exclaimed Bourbon, joyfully. “Now I can listen
patiently to details.”
“We have come to propose a new treaty to your highness,” pursued
Beaurain, “having the same object as the last, which, unfortunately,
miscarried--namely, an invasion of France, and a division of the kingdom
among the conquerors.”
“That is all I desire,” replied Bourbon; “but, to ensure entire success,
France ought to be simultaneously invaded through Provence, Languedoc,
and Picardy. By attacking François at these three points we shall compel
him to divide his forces, so that he can offer no effectual resistance.
Nevertheless, if it be desired that I should undertake the invasion
single-handed, I am ready to do so. Two roads are open to me---one by
the Lyonnais, the other by Provence. Lyons is only fortified on one
side, and with an adequate force may be easily taken. All the nobles of
Dauphiné, Auvergne, and the Bourbonnais will rally round me. Of that I
am well assured. But it will be as easy to reach Lyons through Provence
as by Dauphiné. The Duke of Savoy will give me a free passage through
his states, and supply the army with necessary provisions. In less than
a week I can cross the mountains, and then, skirting the sea, make my
way to Provence. The Imperial fleet, under the command of the Admiral
Ugo de Monçada, is now in the Mediterranean, and will support me during
my march along the coast, and furnish reinforcements in case of need.
But I do not think I shall require much help. The castle of Monaco,
which, as you are aware, is very strong, and favourably situated for
the disembarkation of troops and artillery, will be opened to me by
the Bishop of Grasse. From Monaco I will march on along the coast to
Marseilles, which I will besiege and take.”
“If your highness can take Marseilles, the Emperor will be well
content,” remarked Beaurain. “He desires to have a port in Provence, as
the King of England has a port in Picardy. With Marseilles, Genoa, and
Barcelona, he would have the command of the Mediterranean.”
“His desire shall be gratified,” returned Bourbon. “Marseilles will
not long hold out when I appear before it. Three cannon-shot from the
heights will bring forth the timorous citizens, key in hand, and cord
round the neck--suppliant for mercy, and willing to accept any terms.”
“Your highness makes light of the matter,” observed Beaurain, smiling.
“I trust I may be wrong, but I do not think Marseilles will be easily
taken. It has been put in a perfect state of defence by Renzo da Ceri,
who has been there ever since he surrendered Lodi. The Imperial fleet,
under Admiral Monçada, will render you all possible assistance, and will
transport your artillery from Genoa to Monaco, but you must not forget
that our bitter enemy, Andrea Doria, with his galleys, has recently
joined the French squadron, now cruising in the Mediterranean, and may
give us much trouble. Tidings have just reached me that the valiant
young Prince of Orange, who had sailed in a brigantine from Barcelona to
Genoa to join our army, has been captured by Dona.
“What do I hear? the Prince of Orange captured!” exclaimed Bourbon.
“That is a heavy loss indeed. No braver or better captain than Philibert
de Challon can be found. He would have been my right hand in the
proposed expedition.”
“Are we to understand that your highness agrees to the terms of the new
treaty?” demanded Beaurain.
“Let me hear them once more, and you shall have an answer,” said the
duke.
“First then, as regards your highness,” rejoined Beaurain. “It is agreed
that, on the conquest of France, if haply such shall be the result
of the expedition, you shall be put in possession, not only of the
provinces heretofore belonging to you, and of which you have been
unjustly deprived by François I., but of those to which you lay
claim--namely, Provence and Dauphiné. And the Emperor undertakes to
erect these provinces into a kingdom, of which your highness shall be
sovereign.”
“So far good,” said Bourbon, well pleased.
“The remainder of France,” pursued Beaurain, “is to be divided between
the Emperor and the King of England.”
“To that I raise no objection,” remarked Bourbon.
“I have now an observation to make,” said Doctor Pace. “It is expressly
stipulated by my royal master that he shall assume the title of King
of France, to which realm he has all along laid claim, and shall be so
recognised by your highness.”
“Henry become King of France!--that cannot be!” cried Bourbon. “The
stipulation was proposed to me at Montbrison, and I then refused it.”
“Things have greatly changed since then,” said Pace. “My royal master
peremptorily requires that your highness shall swear fidelity to him,
and pay him homage as King of France.”
“Were I to take the oath you propose,” rejoined Bourbon, “the Pope would
infallibly declare himself against us, and I should alienate all
the French nobility, who would shrink from me, and join the hostile
standard. If the oath of fealty must be taken, let it be deferred till
the conquest has been achieved.”
“It cannot be deferred,” said Doctor Pace. “The king my master is
obstinate, as you know. Unless your highness consents, he will assuredly
take no part in the invasion.”
“Nay, then, I must yield,” said Bourbon. “But I do so with great
reluctance.”
“I do not discern the dangers which your highness seems to apprehend,”
remarked Beaurain. “After all it is a small price to pay for a kingdom.”
“What assistance will the king render me?” asked Bourbon of the English
envoy.
“He will contribute a hundred thousand ducats towards the payment of
the army as soon as your highness shall have crossed the Alps,” replied
Pace, “and thenceforward will continue to furnish a like sum monthly,
till the object of the expedition be accomplished. His majesty is
making active preparations for a descent upon Picardy, and is sending
a prodigious number of soldiers, both horse and foot, to Dover, to
be transported thence to Calais, where they will join the Burgundian
cavalry and the Flemish lansquenets. When required, this army will march
into the heart of France.”
“On the part of the Emperor,” added Beaurain, “I am empowered to furnish
you with two hundred thousand ducats, to be employed in payment of the
arrears due to the troops. The expedition, therefore, can be undertaken
without delay.”
“I will set forth at once,” said Bourbon, joyfully. “Preparations shall
be made for our immediate departure. Come with me to the camp. Your
presence will be desirable while I lay the plan before the generals.”
The party then quitted the cabinet, and, mounting their steeds, rode
down the hill to the camp. On arriving there, Bourbon summoned all
the principal leaders to his tent, and informed them that an immediate
invasion of France had been determined upon. The announcement, which was
confirmed by the two ambassadors, was received with enthusiasm by the
Counts de Hohenzollern and De Lodron, but very coldly by Pescara and the
young Marquis del Vasto.
“Let those go who list,” said Pescara, haughtily. “I have no desire to
take part in the expedition.”
“Neither have I,” added Del Vasto.
“I counsel you to think twice ere you withdraw from it, my lords,” said
Beaurain. “The Emperor will be highly displeased.”
“They will scarcely withdraw from an expedition which must infallibly
cover them with glory,” said Bourbon. “Hear me, marquis,” he added to
Pescara. “The supreme command of the army rests with me, but as I desire
to have the full benefit of your great military skill, I appoint you
captain-general of the entire forces.”
“Nay, my lord, this is more than I merit,” said Pescara.
“Not so, marqùis,” said Bourbon. “I am rejoiced to be able to evince my
sense of your valour and skill. It gratifies me also that I can
prove the estimation in which I hold the military talents of your
distinguished nephew. Marquis del Vasto,” he added, turning to the young
nobleman, “I appoint you captain-general of the Spanish forces. You will
be next in command to your renowned uncle.”
“I trust I shall not disgrace the appointment, my lord,” said Del Vasto,
bowing.
“No fear of that,” rejoined Bourbon. “And now, messeigneurs,” he added
to the assemblage, “give heed, I pray you, to what I am about to say.
With your aid, and with the aid of the brave army under my command, I
will strive to wrest the crown of France from the unworthy monarch who
now wears it, and place it on the head of Henry VIII. of England, to
whom, in your presence, I solemnly plight fealty and homage.”
All bowed as the words were uttered, and immediately afterwards the
assemblage broke up.
Orders were then issued by sound of trumpet throughout the camp that the
army would march towards France on the morrow.
II. THE CASTLE OF MONACO.
|ACCUSTOMED to active warfare, and delighting in it, the soldiers of the
Imperial army were well pleased to learn that they were to start on a
fresh expedition, and their satisfaction was by no means diminished when
they received their arrears of pay. On all hands, preparations were
made for the march. The artillery, which would have greatly impeded
the passage of the troops over the Alps, was sent on to Genoa, to be
conveyed thence by the Spanish fleet to Monaco.
Next morning, tents were struck, and shortly afterwards the whole of the
well-disciplined host was in motion. Bourbon, with the two ambassadors,
remained for a day at Turin, to take leave of the Duke of Savoy, and
then following the army, overtook it at Cunea.
The Alps were crossed by the Col di Tenda, and the passage being at that
time free from snow, no difficulty was experienced. Making his way by
Giandola and Sospello, Bourbon arrived at the little village of Turbia,
situated in the mountains, behind Monaco, with his army in excellent
condition and in high spirits, on the eighth day after leaving
Moncalieri.
A magnificent prospect was offered to the soldiers as they quitted
Turbia, where they had halted for the night, and descended towards the
coast. Before them lay the whole of that superb bay, extending from
Mentone to Cape Sant' Ospizio, in the midst of which stood Monaco, with
its haughty castle. Smooth almost as a mirror on that beautiful summer
morning, the blue Mediterranean spread out like a lake, with a few small
vessels becalmed in the offing. If Bourbon and his host contemplated
this striking picture with admiration, they themselves were regarded
with equal interest by the inhabitants of the town of Monaco, and by
the soldiers of the garrison. The descent of the army from the mountains
formed a very striking spectacle, and as battalion after battalion came
in sight, their burnished arms glittering in the sun, the admiration of
the beholders rose to enthusiasm.
Situated on a lofty headland jutting into the sea, the Castle of Monaco
reared its proud towers as if in defiance of any foe. So strongly was
it built, and so well fortified, that it was deemed impregnable. Whether
facing sea or land, its battlements bristled with ordnance of formidable
size. A lovely bay formed a safe and commodious harbour for friendly
shipping. Though of no great size, Monaco was the capital of a small
sovereignty, and was nominally ruled over by Prince Onorio Grimaldi, the
descendant of an illustrious Genoese family. Nominally ruled over, we
say, because Onorio was still of tender years, and the government of
the petty principality was entrusted to his uncle, the Bishop of Grasse,
between whom and Bourbon a very friendly feeling subsisted.
As Bourbon approached Monaco, the Bishop of Grasse, accompanied by his
nephew, the young Prince Onorio Grimaldi, a very handsome stripling of
some thirteen or fourteen years, came forth with a large attendance of
richly-attired esquires and gentlemen to meet him. Courteously greeting
the duke, the bishop placed the castle at his disposal, and the young
prince gracefully seconded his uncle's proposition.
Bourbon gladly accepted the proffered hospitality, and he and all
the principal leaders of the army were lodged within the castle, and
sumptuously entertained. The camp was pitched on the farther side of the
Bay of Monaco, about a league from the town.
Nearly a week had elapsed since Bourbon's arrival at Monaco, and no
tidings having been heard of the Spanish fleet, which was to bring the
artillery from Genoa, he began to fear that some disaster had happened,
especially as it was known that Andrea Doria and the French fleet
under La Fayette had left Marseilles, and were cruising about in the
Mediterranean, However, as for several days a dead calm had prevailed,
the slow progress of the ships could be easily accounted for.
At last the wished-for breeze sprang up. The smooth blue expanse became
ruffled, and the wind being favourable, the fleet might be speedily
expected.
One morning, Bourbon, accompanied by Pescara and Del Vasto, and followed
by a troop of two hundred mounted Spanish arquebusiers, was riding from
the Castle of Monaco to the camp, when, perceiving several vessels in
the distance, he halted to look at them, feeling sure they must be the
expected squadron. He was right in the supposition; but his satisfaction
was speedily damped, when it became manifest that the ships were being
chased by a hostile fleet far their superior in number, and were making
all possible sail to place themselves under the protection of the
guns of the Castle of Monaco. But it was doubtful whether they could
accomplish their object. Clearly they were pursued by Andrea Doria, and
in him, as Bourbon and Pescara well knew, they had to deal with one of
the most resolute and skilful naval captains of the age.
For a short time, the ships on either side, pursued and pursuers, seemed
to maintain their relative distances, being more than half a league
apart, and a strong hope was felt by the beholders that the former would
escape. But this impression was shaken when it became manifest that
the French were gaining upon the fugitives, the still freshening breeze
aiding their efforts.
It was with indescribable rage and mortification that Bourbon witnessed
this scene. Though he felt that Moncada was unable to cope successfully
with a fleet greatly superior to his own in number, and that he
therefore acted prudently in avoiding an engagement which might probably
result in his own discomfiture, and in the loss of the artillery and
stores he was bringing for the Imperial army, Bourbon could not
constrain himself, but gave loud utterance to his wrath, and Pescara was
scarcely less indignant.
The foremost of the French fleet had now got so much nearer the
Spaniards, that deeming they were within range they fired a lew guns at
the latter, but the shots fell short, and the discharge was not replied
to by the fugitives, who pressed on as swiftly as they could. All the
ships were now dashing quickly through the waves, and the chase was
watched with the keenest interest, not only by Bourbon and those with
him, but by hundreds of spectators collected on the walls of the city,
along the harbour, and on the battlements of the castle.
On the towers and ramparts the cannoniers were at their post, match in
hand, and with shotted guns, ready to fire upon the French fleet should
they venture within range.
The chase had now reached its highest point of excitement, and in a few
minutes more the fate of the Spanish fleet must be decided. More guns
were fired at them by the foe, but though some of the shots struck,
little mischief was done, and the fugitives still held on their way. The
French, however, continued to gain upon them, and so critical had become
their position, that Bourbon, and almost all the others who looked on,
had given them up for lost, when, contrary to all expectation, their
escape was ensured by a manouvre of Doria, whose galley, as could be
discerned from the broad flag floating at its stern, was foremost in
pursuit.
Having come up with the fleet, Doria dashed among them, and turning
three galleys out of their course, got between them and Monaco. Feeling
sure that these luckless galleys would be captured, Doria directed his
attention to the other ships, and poured a broadside into the vessel
nearest him. But he failed to disable her, and with her companions she
got safe under the castle guns, which were instantly opened upon her
pursuer with such effect as to check his further advance. Ere many
minutes more the Spanish fleet, which had sustained little damage,
entered the harbour amid the shouts and congratulations of the
beholders, while the hostile squadron was kept aloof by the guns of the
fortress.
Meanwhile, the three galleys intercepted by Doria did their best to
escape, and giving up all idea of gaining the harbour, made for the
nearest point that could be reached. This was on the farther side of
the bay, near Roccabruna, and too far off to be protected by the castle
guns. Though closely pursued by the French fleet, the three galleys were
here run ashore, and abandoned by their officers and crews.
Bourbon was infuriated at the sight.
“It were a shame and dishonour to the Emperor, as well as a grievous
loss to the army, if those galleys should fall into the hands of the
enemy!” he exclaimed. “Their capture must be prevented. Come with me.
Not a moment must be lost.”
Followed by Pescara and Del Vasto and the troop of arquebusiers, Bourbon
galloped as fast as his charger could carry him towards the spot where
the galleys had been run ashore. It was not far distant, and he reached
it before the boats sent by Doria to take possession of their prizes
could come up. Instantly dismounting, he ordered a third of the
arquebusiers to follow him, and springing on board the most exposed
of the galleys, prepared for its defence. His example was followed
by Pescara and Del Vasto, each of whom took possession of a galley,
accompanied by a party of arquebusiers.
Ere long an attempt was made by three large boats, each containing
twenty well-armed men, to seize the galley on which Bourbon was
stationed; but so murderous was the fire of the arquebusiers, and such
havoc was made by Bourbon himself, that, after sustaining heavy loss,
the assailants were compelled to desist. An equally gallant resistance
was made by Pescara and Del Vasto, and after a sharp conflict, which
endured for nearly an hour, several boats were sunk and the others
driven off, with the loss of the greater part of their crews.
During this conflict, the French fleet had not used their guns, fearing
to injure their own men, but as soon as the boats moved off they opened
fire. However, they failed to dislodge Bourbon and the other generals,
and at last, finding the attempt to capture the galleys hopeless, Doria
and La Fayette sailed off.
III. HOW BOURBON WAS PROCLAIMED COMTE DE PROVENCE.
|Owing to this bold achievement, Bourbon lost none of his artillery and
stores, and quitting Monaco, where he had sojourned for nearly three
weeks, commenced his march along the coast. He was still accompanied by
the Comte de Beaurain and Doctor Pace. The route now taken by the army
offered enchanting views of the Mediterranean. Gigantic aloes, cactuses,
and pomegranates, skirted the road. Orange-groves, vineyards, and
well-stocked orchards, everywhere delighted the eye.
The heat being excessive, the men rested during the middle of the day in
some well-chosen spot where they could find shelter from the blazing
sun beneath the plane-trees, and refresh themselves with good wine and
delicious fruits.
It was at early dawn when Bourbon, after quitting Villa-Franca,
stationed himself on a rocky point to gaze at the lovely bay which
spread out before him, with the fair city of Nice in its centre.
The view both on land and sea was magnificent. The surface of the
Mediterranean was dyed with a thousand lovely hues, borrowed from the
blushing sky. Forests of olives covered the whole face of the country,
while nearer the coast, on the sides of the hills, were vineyards and
orange-groves. Lemon-trees and carob-trees likewise abounded. It was
literally a land flowing with oil and wine.
But Bourbon's view did not rest either upon the glowing sea or on the
teeming country, but passed over the rapid Var into the delicious
region beyond it. There lay the garden of France, rich in vineyards and
olive-groves, and boasting cities and villages as beauteous as those he
now gazed upon. There lay Provence, the land of the troubadour and the
minstrel, and whose charms of scenery and climate even poets could not
overrate. There lay the choicest portion of his future kingdom, and the
moment was at hand when he was to take possession of it.
He was recalled from the reverie into which he had fallen by the
approach of Pomperant and Lurcy, who rode up to him. For some time we
have not found occasion to allude to these faithful adherents, but we
may mention that not only the two young seigneurs in question, but all
the other noble gentlemen who had accompanied Bourbon in his flight from
France, had attended him throughout the campaign in the Milanese, and
shared with him the dangers and glories of the battle of Romagnano.
Neither did they shrink from the present expedition. The period had not
arrived when their leader could fully requite their devotion, but he
hoped ere long to do so. Let us also mention that Bourbon still retained
in his service the faithful Hugues.
“I see whither your gaze is directed, my lord, and can guess the
thoughts that occupy your mind,” remarked Pomperant, as he rode up.
“'Tis a lovely region, that of Provence--an earthly paradise--and it
will pain François to lose it.”
“Yet he makes not an effort to check the invasion,” remarked Bourbon.
“There is no army to oppose our progress. The conquest will be too easy.
By-and-by I will rouse him from his dreams of pleasure, and force him to
give me battle. But let us on. I am impatient to set foot in France.”
After halting at the charming city of Nice, and crossing the headlong
Var, Bourbon entered Provence with his army. His progress was wholly
unimpeded. Marching on through a delightful district to Antibes, he took
possession of that little seaport, and proceeded to Grasse.
As he advanced, the country seemed to increase in beauty. The hills
were clothed with groves of ilex, arbutus, and myrtle, and the cork-tree
flourished in more exposed places. Aloes and cactuses fringed the shore,
and olives and vines, figs and mulberries, struggled for mastery on the
plains.
Bourbon prevented his army from committing any kind of excess, and
though the purpose of his invasion was well understood, the peasants and
the inhabitants of the towns did not fly at his approach, but received
him joyfully. From Grasse he proceeded to Cannes, with its beautiful
bay, and the lovely group of islands, with fort, convent, and church,
that face it.
Again marching along a coast of almost unrivalled beauty, and boasting
an aqueduct and many other Roman remains, he reached Frejus, and then
turning inland, summoned the important town of Draguignan to surrender.
The mandate was instantly obeyed, and he entered the town without
striking a blow, and was received with all honour by the authorities.
Having taken Hyères, Brignolles, and Tourves, he pursued his march
towards Aix, the ancient capital of Provence, and renowned for its
fêtes and tournaments in the days of Raimond Beranger and the good René
d'Anjou.
As Aix was occupied by a considerable force under the Maréchal de la
Palisse, it might have been thought that he would here experience a
check, especially as the ancient city was strongly fortified; but as he
advanced towards it from Trets, whence he had despatched Pom-perant with
a guard to summon it to surrender, La Palisse, unwilling to hazard a
siege, withdrew his forces, and retired to Avignon.
When Bourbon, therefore, came within a couple of leagues of the capital
of Provence, he encountered a large band of citizens, who had come thus
far to meet him.
At the head of the troop were the Sire de Prat, viguier, or provost of
the city, and all the chief magistrates.
Dismounting from their steeds, these important personages, who were
attired in their robes of office, bent the knee humbly before Bourbon,
and the viguier presented him with the keys of the city.
Bourbon received their submission very graciously, assured them that
their city should be respected, and that he came as a liberator and
not as an oppressor. This welcome announcement was received with
acclamations by the troop of citizens, who shouted loudly, “Vive
Bourbon!”
Attended by the viguier and the magistrates, Bourbon rode on through
plantations of almond-trees, olive-groves, and vineyards, to the
beautiful city of Aix.
As he approached, the bells were rung joyously, peals of ordnance were
fired from the walls, and from the gates, which were thrown wide open,
issued crowds to give him welcome.
Bourbon, of course, took possession of the city, and placed a strong
force in its garrison, and on its towers and fortifications, but the
army was encamped outside the walls.
Next day, mass was celebrated in the noble old cathedral of Saint
Sauveur, at which Bourbon, Pescara, and all the other generals, with the
two ambassadors, assisted. The duke then proceeded to the ancient palace
of King René, and, in the presence of the viguier and the magistrates,
assumed the title of Comte de Provence, and received their homage.
Proclamation of the title was subsequently made by sound of trumpet in
all the principal places of the city, and the announcement was received
with enthusiastic cries of “Vive Bourbon! Vive le Comte de Provence!”
For three days great rejoicings were held in Aix, and the good old times
of Raimond Beranger and King René seemed to be revived. Banquets and
fêtes were given in the palace in honour of the new Comte de 'rovence.
Jousts and floral games were held in a plain outside the walls, at which
the fair dames of Aix assisted. Troubadours sang their lays; and merry
dances were executed by sprightly youths and dark-eyed damsels. In all
the neighbouring villages there was revelry and rejoicing--=
```Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth.=
IV. SHOWING HOW MARSEILLES WAS FORTIFIED,
|Bourbon was still at Aix, when a messenger arrived from Charles V.
enjoining him to lay immediate siege to Marseilles. Thus compelled to
forego his design of marching upon Lyons, he summoned a council of the
leaders of the army, and acquainted them with the message he had just
received from the Emperor. “I once affirmed to the Comte de Beaurain,”
he said, “that three cannon-shot would suffice to bring the citizens of
Marseilles to my feet. But I have seen cause to change my opinion. The
Seigneurs Pomperant and Lurcy have examined the city carefully, and they
report that its defences are exceedingly strong, and are rapidly being
augmented by Renzo da Ceri and Chabot de Brion, to whom the command
of the garrison has been entrusted. Aided by the chief commissary,
Mirandel, Renzo da Ceri has made immense preparations for the defence.
Two convents and three churches, which might have assisted the assault,
have been pulled down; and the faubourgs and all the pleasure-houses
built outside the city on the east and north have likewise been
levelled.”
“And do the inhabitants second these efforts?” demanded Pescara. “If so,
they resemble not the good citizens of Aix, who have declared themselves
so heartily in our favour.”
“The citizens of Marseilles are determinately hostile both to the
Emperor and myself, and have vowed to burn the place rather than
surrender it,” replied Bourbon. “They boast of their attachment to the
crown of France, though Provence has only been forty years annexed
to the kingdom. The whole population, it appears, assisted in the
demolition of the convents, churches, and bastides, and they all seem
animated by a spirit of patriotic enthusiasm. I have hot been able to
ascertain the precise strength of the garrison, but I know it amounts to
full four thousand men, a fourth of which consists of cavalry, and the
rest of foot soldiers. Renzo da Ceri brought all his best men-at-arms
from Lodi, and Chabot de Brion was accompanied by three hundred
arquebusiers. In addition to these, eight thousand of the citizens,
inflamed by patriotic ardour, have formed themselves into trainbands.
Thus you see what we have to expect. The defenders of Marseilles are
well supplied with artillery and munitions of war, and possess some
cannon of large size. As to supplies, they can easily obtain them, since
the port is defended by the French fleet under Doria and La Fayette.
Notwithstanding all these obstacles, I make no doubt we shall speedily
reduce the city. To-morrow I will go and reconnoitre it, and I will pray
you, my lords,” he added to Peseara and Del Vasto, “to accompany me. We
will take a sufficient force with us, and the main body of the army will
follow.”
This plan being agreed upon, the council broke up.
Next morning Bourbon, at the head of two thousand Spanish soldiers,
attended by Pescara and Del Vasto, together with Pomperant and Lurcy,
quitted Aix and proceeded towards Marseilles.
Night had fallen as the generals drew near the beautiful city they
intended to besiege, and quitting their escort, they mounted to
the summit of the steep rocky hill, called the Montagne de la
Vierge-de-la-Garde, crowned by a small chapel dedicated to the Blessed
Virgin. A full moon shed down her radiance on the city, enabling them to
survey it almost as perfectly as by daylight.
To those unacquainted with Marseilles, it may be proper to mention
that it is surrounded by hills, which rise behind it in the form of an
amphitheatre. A large natural basin, capable of holding a vast number
of ships of the largest size, and from its position perfectly sheltered,
forms the harbour, the entrance being so narrow, that, at the period
of our history, it was secured by a thick chain, suspended from rock to
rock. Further protection was afforded by the guns of the Castle of Saint
Jean, placed on a rock on the north of the harbour. Outside is a small
group of islands, on one of which, stood a fort. Between these islands
and the harbour lay the French fleet.
Very beautiful was the appearance of the city on that bright moonlight
night--the vine-clad hills--the old walls and towers encircling the
quaint houses--the noble basin with its shipping--the rocks so
nearly approaching each other that they seemed almost to shut in the
harbour--the group of islands outside, with the fleet at anchor near
them--the beautiful curves of the coast--the wide expanse of the
sea glittering like silver--all formed a ravishing picture. But the
attention of those who gazed upon it was solely directed to the defences
of the city, and to the discovery of its weak points. They saw where
the churches and convents had been demolished by Mirandel, and where the
faubourgs and bastides had been pulled down, and acknowledged the wisdom
of the proceeding. They also perceived to what extent the walls and
fortifications had been strengthened, and the moat widened by Renzo da
Ceri.
Little is left of the Marseilles of the sixteenth century. The boast
and pride of the existing city, the unequalled Rue de la Cannebière, was
then unbuilt, and its site was little better than a marsh. The ancient
city was defended on the land side by high walls, flanked by bastions,
and garnished with eight towers, the chief of which, called the Tower
of Saint Paul, protected the Porte de la Joliette. The walls were
surrounded by a wide deep ditch, supplied from the sea, and the gates
were approached by drawbridges. All the more exposed of these gates
were now filled up with masonry, and the others rendered unassailable by
external and internal works. Towers, bastions, and battlements bristled
with ordnance. On a mound in the midst of the city, crowned by three
windmills, cannon of large size were placed. Cannon also had been
hoisted on the steeple of the Cathedral de la Major, on a tower
constructed on the hill overlooking the city on the north, and on the
clock-tower near the fountains of the Accoules.
All these formidable preparations were carefully noted by Bourbon and
Pescara, who consumed the whole night in the inspection. Both agreed
that if those in command were vigorously seconded by the inhabitants,
the city might hold out for a long period.
The result of the examination of the defences was that they were least
strong at an angle where the ramparts were flanked by the old tower of
Saint Paul, which did not appear in very good condition, while within
the walls stood the palace of the Bishop of Marseilles and the old
church of Saint Cannat. It was towards this weak point, which occupied
a space of some thousand yards, that Bourbon resolved to direct the main
attack.
Dawn was at hand by the time the two generals had completed their
survey. Just then the sudden and violent ringing of alarm-bells from
tower and steeple, followed by the sound of trumpet and drum, proclaimed
that the guardians of the city had become aware that the foe was at
hand.
Heedless of these sounds, Bourbon and Pescara, and those with them,
remained on the heights until a sortie was made from the Porte d'Aix
by a large force of cavalry, numbering about fifteen hundred men, and
headed by Renzo da Ceri. They then descended to their escort, whom they
had left on the farther side of the hill on the road from Aix.
When Renzo da Ceri came in sight of Bourbon and his troop, and found
that the force was greater than his own, he hesitated to make the
attack, and eventually galloped back to the city.
He was hotly pursued by Bourbon and Pescara, who, despite the cannonade
directed against them from the towers, bastions, and battlements,
followed him to the gate whence he had issued, and only withdrew because
the drawbridge was raised.
V. IN WHAT MANNER POMPERANT ENTERED MARSEILLES.
|Two days afterwards Marseilles was invested by Bourbon. The main body
of the Imperial army occupied the heights overlooking the city from
east to west. The lanz-knechts, under the Counts de Hohenzollern and
De Lodron, were placed near the shore, and a division of the Spanish
infantry, under Del Vasto, was stationed on the plain of Saint Michel,
on the road to Aubagne.
On the side of a hill on the north, about four hundred toises from the
walls, stood the chapel and hospital of Saint Lazare, and it was under
their shelter that Bourbon and Pescara fixed their tents. From this
point operations were commenced against the beleaguered city, and
trenches opened in the direction of that part of the walls which had
been judged to be weakest. The pioneers laboured during the night, and
were protected by gabions and mantelets, but they suffered severely from
the fire of the besieged. Frequent sorties were made by Renzo da Ceri,
and many a bloody conflict took place near the trenches; but these
engagements uniformly resulted in the discomfiture of the besieged, and
consequently the works advanced slowly but steadily.
At length Bourbon had drawn sufficiently near to use his artillery with
effect, and having erected his batteries, he opened a tremendous fire
upon the portion of the walls extending from the Porte d'Aix to an old
Franciscan convent. The besieged immediately replied, and every cannon
garnishing the ramparts, bastions, and towers that could be rendered
available against the assailants was brought into play. Even a monstrous
piece of ordnance, appropriately enough called “The Basilisk,” thundered
from the hill surmounted by the clock-tower. This huge cannon, supposed
to be the largest then fabricated, projected shot of a hundred-weight,
and required sixty men to replace it after each discharge. But its
unwieldy size prevented good aim from being taken, and the ponderous
shot, discharged at long intervals, could be easily avoided. The smaller
guns, however, were better served and directed, and caused considerable
destruction among the assailants. Ere many hours, however, a breach
had been made in the walls, but Bourbon hesitated to order an immediate
assault, deeming the aperture not wide enough.
“I would it were possible to obtain exact information of the state of
the city,” he remarked to Pomperant, as he entered his tent with the
latter.
“Leave that to me, my lord,” said Pomperant. “I will bring you the
information you require.”
“You!” exclaimed Bourbon, in surprise. “How will you get into the city?”
“The task is not easy, I admit,” replied Pomperant. “I do not mean to
swim across the moat, and attempt to scale the walls in the face of
the arquebusiers, but I think I can manage to enter the city from the
sea-side, where it is less guarded.”
“But to do this you must escape the fleet--elude the vigilance of the
sentinels on the walls of the Chateau de Saint Jean--and lastly, you
must raise the chain that protects the entrance to the harbour. It
cannot be done. It were easier to penetrate the city by the breach made
by my guns.”
“Difficult as the task may be, I am ready to undertake it,” rejoined
Pomperant.
“Will you go alone?”
“No; I will take Hugues with me. I can trust him.”
Bourbon did not attempt to dissuade him, and at nightfall Pomperant,
attended by Hugues, started on the expedition, and rode to that part
of the coast where the German lanz-knechts were encamped. The night was
dark and favourable for the enterprise. As he was accompanied by the
Comte de Hohenzollern and a guard, no interruption was offered him
by the sentinels stationed at various points, and he soon reached the
shore, and proceeded to a little creek in which a fishing-boat was
moored.
Instantly dismounting, and consigning his horse to one of De
Hohenzollern's soldiers, Pomperant embarked in the boat with Hugues, who
took the oars and rowed cautiously along the coast, making for a rocky
headland, which screened the entrance of the harbour.
In a few minutes the boat had got under cover of the rock, and escaped
the notice of the sentinels stationed on the ramparts of the fort above.
No wind was stirring, and only a slight undulation was perceptible on
the surface of the tideless sea.
While Hugues kept the little vessel moving, Pomperant, who was seated
in the stern, peered through the gloom to see whether any danger was at
hand. He could just discern the French fleet lying between the group of
islands and the mouth of the harbour, and concluded from the sounds
that reached him that several boats, were leaving the ships. At once
determining on the course to be pursued, he ordered Hugues to move
noiselessly on, and keep close to the rock until he gained the entrance
of the harbour. This was done, and ere long the boats, upwards of a
dozen in number, came up. They were filled with armed men, doubtless
sent by Doria or La Fayette to strengthen the garrison of the city.
As soon as the boats had passed, Hugues followed in their wake, and
speeded between the rocky heights guarding the narrow channel. The boats
were of course challenged by the sentinels stationed on the forts on
either side, but the answers being satisfactory, they were allowed to
pass. Hugues also passed without exciting suspicion.
It has already been mentioned that a heavy chain was drawn across the
mouth of the harbour, and a short delay occurred while this obstacle
was removed. Several men were standing with torches on the rocky steps
aiding those who were engaged in lowering the ponderous chain, while
higher up stood a guard of arquebusiers.
At length, the chain being dropped and the passage free, the throng of
boats pushed into the harbour, and close behind them came Hugues,
hoping in the confusion to elude observation. But the manouvre, though
skilfully managed, did not escape detection. The torchlight revealed the
intruders, and an authoritative voice from the steps called out,
“Hola! who goes there? What boat is that? Stay, and give an account of
yourselves.”
Hugues paid no attention to the summons, which was reiterated by other
voices, but hurrying on more rapidly than before, contrived to place
some of the other boats between him and the arquebusiers, so that the
latter could not fire, and in another minute he had disappeared in the
gloom. Luckily, the soldiers in the boats, though they heard the shouts,
disregarded them, and pursued their course without stopping.
As soon as it was practicable, Hugues disengaged himself from his
dangerous companions, and while they made their way to a wharf on
the left of the basin, he struck across to the opposite side, where a
landing was effected without molestation. At this time the harbour
was entirely destitute of ships, as any vessels lying there would, of
course, have been exposed to the guns of the hostile batteries. Hence
the wharf at which Pomperant and Hugues landed was wholly deserted. In
fact, there were very few buildings near the spot, for the city had not
as yet extended to this side of the harbour.
The walls, however, which surrounded the basin were not far off, but
the place was gloomy, and the attention of the sentinels was elsewhere
directed. After securing the boat to the wharf, Pomperant and Hugues
made their way as quickly as they could round the head of the basin,
which, as we have before stated, was then little better than a swamp,
and, reaching the city, plunged into a narrow street communicating with
the principal quay.
Just as they had entered this street, which was only lighted by an
occasional lantern hung before a door, the sound of martial footsteps
warned them that a patrol was approaching, and fearing they might be
stopped and questioned, they withdrew into an archway till the guard had
passed by. They then pursued their way along the street, whieh gradually
mounted a hill, until they came to an open space, in the midst of which
a troop of cavalry was drawn up. This band was surrounded by a crowd
of citizens, some of whom carried torches, and in its leader, who was
arrayed in a complete suit of armour, but whose beaver was raised,
Pomperant instantly recognised the stern dark countenance of Renzo da
Ceri. He was haranguing the assemblage, and Pomperant, closely followed
by Hugues, mingled with the crowd to hear what he said.
“Be of good cheer, my friends,” he cried. “The danger is past. In a few
hours the breach will be repaired, and the measures I have taken for the
defence of the city are so complete that we may laugh at the threats of
the foe. The traitor Bourbon boasted that he would be master of the city
this night, and it is well for you that he did not dare to make good his
threat.”
The mention of Bourbon's name was received with a perfect storm of yells
and execrations, and when this had subsided Renzo went on.
“We have an enemy who will show us no mercy,” he said. “Were he to take
the city, it would be sacked by his soldiery.”
“That is false!” shouted Pomperant.
“Who spoke?” demanded Renzo, fiercely. “Let him show himself, that I may
see who dares gainsay my assertion.”
There was a moment's pause, during which glances were turned in the
direction of the imprudent speaker, but he could not be discovered.
“Whoever uttered those words must be a friend of Bourbon,” pursued
Renzo. “I repeat, that it is the traitor's intention to deliver this
city to his savage host, and I therefore exhort you to fight to the
last in defence of those dear to you. Save your wives and daughters from
dishonour. None will be spared.”
“Again I say it is false!” vociferated Pomperant.
“Seize the traitor, and bring him before me,” roared Renzo.
An attempt was made to obey the injunction. Several persons were seized,
and, amid the confusion that prevailed, Pomperant and Hugues extricated
themselves from the throng, and passed into a side-street, just as
dark and narrow as that they had recently traversed. From the noise and
shouts which reached them, it was clear the assemblage had just broken
up, and presently Renzo, with his mounted guard, rode down the street,
followed by a number of men, evidently part of the assemblage who had
been listening to his harangue.
Pomperant and Hugues allowed themselves to be borne on by the stream,
and at length issued forth into a wide esplanade ornamented with
plane-trees, which here intervened between the city and the walls.
On the left of this open space, and within a short distance of the
ramparts, stood the bishop's palace, a large and monastic-looking
structure. Close beside it was the venerable church of Saint Cannat. The
palace and the church were the only two buildings near this angle of the
walls, and it was quite evident to Pomperant that if Bourbon could once
obtain possession of them, the city must fall. The marvel was, that
experienced engineers like Renzo da Ceri and Chabot de Brion should
allow them to remain. Close to the walls where the breach had been made
a large body of lansquenets were collected, and with them was a band of
armed citizens. The ramparts also were thronged with arquebusiers, and
the canonniers remained standing near their guns.
Within a few yards of the breach a battery had been reared, on which
three large cannon were planted, ready for service in case the
assault should be made. But already the repairs were more than half
accomplished. The gap was filled up with huge stones, pieces of timber,
fascines, and other matters, and banked up with earth. A hundred men
at a time were engaged on the operations, and a hundred others stood by
ready to relieve them, so there was no pause. Officers were stationed on
the walls on either side of the breach, giving orders and superintending
the work.
After watching the proceedings for some time with an interest such as
a soldier only can feel, and satisfying himself that the breach would
infallibly be repaired before daybreak, Pomperant moved away. Following
the course of the walls, he examined them as well as he could in the
gloom.
Proceeding in this manner, he made the circuit of the city; and the
result of his scrutiny was, that it was in a perfect state of defence.
He remarked that the gates exposed to attack were blocked up, and
protected on the inside by parapets and batteries. He also noticed that
all the ramparts were garnished with cannon, and that the sentinels
everywhere were doubled. The bastions, indeed, were thronged with
armed men, and it was evident that the whole garrison was on the alert.
Officers, accompanied by a mounted guard, were continually riding from
gate to gate, while others made their round on the battlements to see
that good watch was kept. Patrols, both horse and foot, were likewise
moving about in every direction. Enough was seen by Pomperant to
convince him that a most energetic defence would be made, and that it
would be long before the place could be taken.
Having completed his examination of the walls, he re-entered the city,
and shaped his course, as well as he could, in the direction of the
mound, on the summit of which stood the clock-tower. As both he and
Hugues were unacquainted with Marseilles, they more than once lost their
way; and though there were plenty of people abroad they did not dare
to question them, lest it should be found out that they were strangers.
Pomperant had begun to despair of reaching the mound, when he
unexpectedly came upon it.
VI. “THE BASILISK.”
|Dawn was now at hand, and by the time Pomperant; and his attendant had
climbed the summit of the mound it had become quite light.
Very striking was the view presented from this eminence. Pomperant
had stationed himself on a point of the hill not far from the battery,
whereon was placed the monstrous cannon called “The Basilisk,” of which
mention has previously been made; and he and his companion were screened
from the observation of the artillerymen by the clock-tower.
Immediately beneath him lay the city of Marseilles, with its picturesque
habitations, its noble mansions, convents, and churches, encircled by
fortifications, which in their turn were encircled by a broad, deep
moat. On the right lay the harbour, almost enclosed by rocks; and
Pomperant looked with interest at the narrow inlet by which he had
gained admittance overnight. Outside, and near the islands, lay the
French fleet; while far as the eye could range spread out the placid
sea, now tinged with the roseate hues of morning.
The heights surrounding the city were crowned with the camp of the
besieging army, At that still hour the trumpets were heard sounding a
réveillé, and the men could be distinguished mustering at the call. The
German lanz-knechts were concealed from view by the intervening hills,
but the division of the Spanish troops under Del Vasto were in sight.
The hills seemed peopled with armed men, and the rays of the sun were
reflected upon thousands of steel caps and corslets, and upon forests of
pikes and lances.
Though Bourbon's tent was concealed from view, its position was marked
by the proud banner floating above the walls of the little chapel of
Saint Lazare. Pescara's tent was likewise hidden by the sacred edifice,
but his banner was as conspicuous as that of Bourbon. The course of the
trenches, which advanced in zig-zags towards the walls, could be readily
traced. The men were at the battery, waiting orders to open fire. From
the battery Pomperant naturally turned to the ramparts which it faced,
and he saw that the breach had been completely repaired, and was
defended by a parapet, behind which cannon were planted. The work was a
marvel of industry, and showed the spirit that animated the besieged.
If all were thus early astir in the camp of the Imperial army; if the
men were mustering and preparing for action; if the artillerymen were
at their posts at the various batteries, and both horse and foot in
readiness--so also were the besieged. Bastions, ramparts, and towers
were thronged with soldiers. A troop of cavalry, commanded by Chabot de
Brion, was drawn up near the bishop's palace. Close beside them was
a company of pikemen. Detachments of horse and foot were likewise
stationed near the Porte d'Aix, and all the other gates not blocked up.
In short, every possible preparation for energetic defence was made.
As yet not a gun had been fired by the besiegers, and Pomperant waited
with breathless impatience for the commencement of hostilities. There
was something ominous in the silence that now prevailed. All the martial
sounds recently saluting the ear had ceased.
Drums and trumpets were mute. The stillness was undisturbed, for the
morning was calm, and the numerous banners on walls and towers hung
motionless.
After running his eye along the ramparts, crowded with arquebusiers and
pikemen, Pomperant once more turned his gaze towards the little chapel
on the hillside. At that moment came forth a troop of knights, sheathed
in polished armour. At their head rode Bourbon and Pescara, both
distinguishable, even at that distance, from the splendour of their
accoutrements and the rich housings of their steeds. Each had a short
battle-axe at his saddle-bow--each carried a bâton, in token of command.
As the knightly troop rode slowly down the hill towards the battery, its
movements were watched with keenest interest by thousands of soldiers
from the ramparts and towers of the city. Still, not a gun was fired.
At this moment, Pomperant, whose attention had been for some time
diverted by other objects from the battery near which he stood, was
reminded of its proximity by a bustle among the artillerymen who had
charge of the monster cannon, and, looking in that direction, he saw
they were about to fire; and the match being applied, he was almost
stunned by the tremendous detonation that ensued.
The sound was echoed from the heights, and reverberated like thunder
from the rocks near the harbour. The course of the huge shot could be
distinctly traced, and was watched by thousands of eyes. Bourbon and
Pescara, with their knightly retinue, had been the mark against which
“The Basilisk” was pointed. But the ball passed over the heads of the
troop, without causing them to swerve from their course, and fell on the
farther side of the lazar-house.
Ineffectual as this discharge proved, it served as the signal for
commencing the day's work. The battery at the head of the trenches
immediately opened fire, and was replied to from the ramparts and
bastions of the city, and the stillness of the lovely morning was broken
by the incessant roar of artillery, and the balmy air filled with clouds
of sulphurous smoke.
It was some time before “The Basilisk” could be restored to its place,
and more than half a hundred men were required for the task; but their
labour was quite thrown away, for the second shot was no better aimed
than the first--and, indeed, alarmed the besiegers, for it fell into the
moat.
Meantime, the roar of ordnance was uninterrupted, and Pomperant looked
curiously at the walls; but though some destruction was caused among the
defenders, little damage was done to the ramparts.
The conflict had endured for more than an hour, during which Pomperant,
enchained by the exciting spectacle, had remained on the same spot, when
the sound of a trumpet called his attention to the Porte d'Aix, and
he perceived that a large troop of cavalry had been collected at this
point. The leader of this troop was Chabot de Brion, who was fully
armed, and mounted on a powerful charger. Pomperant at once comprehended
that a sortie was about to be made by the commander of the garrison.
In another minute the gate was thrown open, the drawbridge lowered, and
Brion dashed out at the head of his men, and, sword in hand, galloped
up the hill towards the battery. But ere he got half way thither he
was encountered by Bourbon, who had just been joined by a detachment of
horse, and a sharp conflict ensued, resulting in the defeat of Brion and
his party, who were driven back, with considerable loss, to the city.
So hard pressed were the fugitives, that, although their leader escaped,
several officers were captured.
During this skirmish, which seemed like an interlude in the terrible
drama, the cannonading went on as furiously as ever.
No other incident occurred to relieve the monotony of the siege, and,
satisfied that little impression would be made upon the walls, Pompeiant
quitted the mound, and went in search of some house of entertainment
where he might break his fast. He was not long in discovering a tavern;
but it was not without some trepidation that he entered it.
VII. THE AMAZONS.
|SOME cold viands, flanked by a bottle of good wine, were soon set
before him by the tavernkeeper, who talked about the siege, and seemed
full of uneasiness lest the city should be taken.
“I am told that Bourbon means to allow three days' pillage to his
soldiers if he takes the city,” he remarked; “and as to the poor women,
not even the holy sisters will be respected.”
“You alarm yourself without reason, my good host,” said Pomperant. “The
city will not be sacked, and no outrages will be committed.”
“How know you that?” demanded the tavern-keeper, staring at him in
surprise.
“Because such severities would be wholly inconsistent with Bourbon's
previous conduct,” returned Pomperant. “Ever since he has been in
Provence he has checked all licence on the part of the soldiery. Only
those who resist will be slaughtered.”
“Then I shan't be one of them. I wish this city had surrendered like
Aix. Folks may talk as they please about patriotism and loyalty, and so
forth, but I don't like fighting. Ever since the siege began I haven't
been able to sleep in my bed. So you don't believe Bourbon to be the
bloodthirsty monster he is represented, eh?”
“On the contrary, I am persuaded he would offer very advantageous terms
to the garrison if they would surrender,” said Pomperant.
“Why don't they surrender?” groaned the host. “Don't betray me, sir,”
he hastened to add. “Renzo da Ceri would hang me if he heard I had
expressed such an unpatriotic sentiment.”
“Fear nothing, my good fellow,” said Pomperant, laughing. “I am quite as
unpatriotic as yourself, for I concur with you in opinion. I belong to
Andrew Doria's fleet, and only landed last night, so I don't know much
about the state of the city. Answer me frankly. How long do you think it
can hold out?”
“Perhaps a month--perhaps longer. They say it can hold out till the king
comes to relieve it.”
“But if the king shouldn't come--what then?” remarked Pomperant.
“Nay, then we _must_ yield. But we shall have some dreadful fighting.
When women turn soldiers, it looks as if mischief were meant.”
“Women turn soldiers! What mean you, my good host?” inquired Pomperant.
“I mean what I say,” replied the tavern-keeper. “Some of the noblest
dames of Marseilles have formed themselves into a military corps, and
have determined, if called upon, to fight the foe. The lady who
commands this company of Amazons is young and beautiful. Mademoiselle
Marphise--for so is she named--is the daughter of M. de Vaudreuil, one
of our richest merchants. The second in command is likewise young
and beautiful, and quite as high-spirited as Marphise. Her name is
Marcelline d'Herment.”
“Marcelline d'Herment! Impossible!” cried Pomperant. “Why, if I am not
misinformed, her brother, the Seigneur d'Herment, assisted the Constable
de Bourbon in his flight.”
“Very true,” replied the host. “But Marphise has great influence over
her, and has caused her to change her opinions. Whatever she may have
been before, Mademoiselle Marcelline is now violently opposed to the
Duke de Bourbon. Sire is staying with M. de Vaudreuil, and she and
Marphise are inseparable. Their tastes are too masculine for me. They
are marching about all day long. If you go to the Esplanade de la
Tourette, or the Place de Linehe, you cannot fail to see them exercising
their corps. Some folks think it a very pretty sight.”
“I should like to see them,” said Pomperant. “I will go at once to the
Esplanade de la Tourette.”
“You are more likely to find them in the Place de Linehe at this hour,”
said the host. “Pursue this street, and you will come to it.”
Pomperant then paid his reckoning, and quitting the inn with Hugues,
went in the direction indicated by the tavern-keeper.
The Place de Linehe, a large square, in which there was an agreeable
promenade shaded by plane-trees, was now almost wholly deserted, most
of the inhabitants having gone to points whence they could witness the
progress of the siege, and only a few old people and children were to be
seen. Pomperant was about to depart, when the sound of military music,
proceeding from a street on the opposite side, arrested him, and
immediately afterwards the corps of Amazons marched into the square.
At the head of this company rode a damsel who might have been taken as
a representative of Hippolita, or Thalestris, or any other Amazonian
queen. Of unusually large stature, she was still admirably proportioned,
and her features were rigorously classical in outline. She was armed in
a glittering corslet, and her casque was surmounted with white and red
plumes. In her hand she carried a javelin, and a small shield hung at
her saddle-bow.
Though it could not be denied that Matphise was handsome, her expression
and bearing were too masculine to be altogether pleasing. The rest of
the corps, which numbered about three hundred, were on foot, and as
the majority of them were young, and possessed of considerable personal
attractions, they formed a very striking appearance. They were all
arrayed in burnished breastplates, and had plumed helmets on their
heads, and javelins in their hands. Some of these damsels, as their cast
of countenance proclaimed, were of Catalonian origin. They marched six
abreast, with light quick footsteps, and in good order, towards the
centre of the square, where they formed in line. The second in command
was Marcelline. Her accoutrements were precisely like those of the rest
of the corps, but she was armed with a drawn sword instead of a javelin.
Nearly an hour was spent by the troop in the practice of various
military exercises, all of which were very cleverly performed, and
during the whole of that time Pomperant and Hugues remained standing by,
screened from observation by the trees.
The practice being ended, the troop formed in order of march, and began
to move off the ground, taking a direction which brought them close to
the spot where Pomperant was stationed with Hugues. He might have easily
retired, but instead of doing so he made a sign to attract Marcelline's
attention, and on beholding him she uttered a cry of surprise. The
exclamation reached the ears of Marphise, who was riding in front of
her, and, looking round, she was struck with the other's agitation, and
inquired the cause. Marcelline made no reply; but as she looked very
faint, the Amazonian leader immediately ordered a halt.
“What ails you?” she said to Marcelline.
“It is nothing--it will pass,” replied the other. “Leave me here. I will
follow anon.”
“The sight of that man troubles you,” said Marphisc, noticing the
direction of her friend's gaze. “Who is he? I must know.”
Instead of making any reply to the question, Marcelline sprang forward,
and called out to Pomperant, “Away, or you are lost!”
But before he could move a step, even if he intended to depart, Marphise
was by his side.
“You are a stranger in Marseilles!” she cried. “I arrest you as a spy.”
“No, let him go; he is no spy,” interposed Marcelline. “Imprudent that
you are to come here,” she added, in an under tone, to her lover.
“It is as I suspected!” cried Marphise. “I am certain he is from the
enemy's camp. This man is also with him,” she added, pointing to Hugues.
“If I tell you who he is, Marphise, will you allow him to depart?”
whispered Marcelline.
“I know not that,” rejoined the other. “But speak!”
“It is the Seigneur Pomperant,” replied Marcelline.
“What! the friend of the traitor Bourbon!” exclaimed the Amazon. “Do you
imagine I will let _him_ go? Never! I will rather hang him. Let thirty
of the corps step forward and take charge of these men,” she shouted.
The order was obeyed with surprising celerity, and Pomperant and Hugues
were environed by a double row of spears.
“Take the prisoners before Renzo da Ceri,” said the Amazon. “He will
dispose of them.”
“Marphise!” cried Marcelline, “if you have any love for me do not act
thus. You need have no fear of the Seigneur Pomperant. I will answer for
him with my life.”
The Amazon reflected for a moment.
“Is he content to remain a prisoner on parole?” she demanded.
“Most assuredly,” replied Marcelline.
“Let him answer for himself,” cried the Amazon. “Will you pledge your
word that you will not attempt to quit Marseilles without permission?”
she added to Pomperant.
“Do not hesitate,” whispered Marcelline. “If you are taken before Renzo
or Chabot de Brion, you are lost.”
“Now, your answer?” cried Marphise.
“I accept the conditions,” he replied. “I will not attempt to escape,
and I will be answerable for my attendant.”
“Enough,” replied Marphise. “You are at liberty. But be careful, or you
may fall into the hands of those who will not deal with you as leniently
as I have done.” Ordering the party around her to fall into rank, the
Amazon put her steed in motion, and the troop marched out of the Place
de Linche.
VIII. SHOWING HOW THE BISHOP'S PALACE AND THE CHURCH OF SAINT CANNAT
WERE DEMOLISHED.
|Left to his reflections, Pomperant was not altogether satisfied with
what he had done. He was now a prisoner on parole, and could not return
to the camp, or communicate in any way with Bourbon.
Had he yielded to the dictates of prudence, he would have sought some
secure retreat for the day, and none appeared so eligible for the
purpose as the tavern where he had breakfasted, but the temptation to
witness the progress of the siege was too strong to be resisted, and on
quitting the Place de Linche he proceeded to a point whence a view of
the ramparts could be obtained.
The cannonade was still going on as furiously as ever. A portion of the
ramparts had been destroyed, and anew breach made in the walls. Still it
was not yet large enough to allow a successful attack to be made. But
it was evident that the besiegers were making every preparation for a
speedy assault.
Supported by a tremendous fire from the batteries, and protected by
mantelets, which they pushed on before them, a party of men advanced
towards the fosse, and endeavoured to form a traverse by throwing into
it a vast quantity of fascines, made of large boughs of trees tied
together, fagots, hurdles, and bags and gabions full of earth and
stones.
These operations could not be carried on without great loss on the
part of the besiegers. A terrific fire was directed against them by the
arqubusiers from the ramparts and bastions. Notwithstanding this, the
work proceeded. A detachment of arquebusiers, marching down from the
camp, fixed palisades within thirty toises of the walls, whence they
fired upon the defenders of the ramparts.
At this juncture another sortie was made by Chabot de Brion, and with
better effect than that which he had undertaken earlier in the day. Not
only did he force the arquebusiers to retire in disorder, causing great
havoc among them, but he slaughtered most of the engineers engaged on
the traverse. Such as escaped the sword were drowned in the fosse.
So rapidly was this achievement executed, that ere Pescara could reach
the scene of action with his cavalry, Brion had re-entered the city.
Infuriated by the losses they had sustained, the besiegers redoubled
their efforts. Fresh engineers supplied the places of those who had
perished, and the arquebusiers returned to their post. But success had
heightened the ardour of the besieged, and stimulated them to greater
exertions. Though the cannonade was continued without intermission
throughout the day, the breach was not sufficiently enlarged for the
assault.
Towards evening, however, the traverse was completed, though several
parties of engineers had been destroyed in the task, and preparations
were made to erect a gallery upon it. In spite of the constant severe
fire from the ramparts and bastions--in spite of the stones and missiles
hurled upon them--the engineers persisted in their work, and laboured
with such resolution and assiduity, that, in less than an hour, a
gallery, eight feet high and twelve wide, was put together. The sides
were formed of double planks, the intervals being filled up with earth,
and the pointed roof was covered externally with raw hides, so as to
prevent it from being set on fire.
A critical juncture had now arrived for the besieged. Had the breach
been sufficiently large, the assault would inevitably have taken
place, for Bourbon was fully prepared; but not only was the aperture
insufficient, but it could be seen that a rear rampart had been erected,
which would have to be stormed when the outer wall was carried.