year of his age, in the very noon of that brilliant life which was
destined to be so soon and so fatally overshadowed. Not one of the dark
clouds, which were in the future to accumulate around him, had yet rolled
above his horizon. Young, noble, wealthy, handsome, valiant, he saw no
threatening phantom in the future, and caught eagerly at the golden
opportunity, which the present placed within his grasp, of winning fresh
laurels on a wider and more fruitful. field than any in which he had
hitherto been a reaper. The campaign about to take place was likely to
be an imposing, if not an important one, and could not fail to be
attractive to a noble of so ardent and showy a character as Egmont.
If there were no lofty principles or extensive interests to be contended
for, as there certainly were not, there was yet much that was stately and
exciting to the imagination in the warfare which had been so deliberately
and pompously arranged. The contending armies, although of moderate
size, were composed of picked troops, and were commanded by the flower of
Europe's chivalry. Kings, princes, and the most illustrious paladins of
Christendom, were arming for the great tournament, to which they had been
summoned by herald and trumpet; and the Batavian hero, without a crown or
even a country, but with as lofty a lineage as many anointed sovereigns
could boast, was ambitious to distinguish himself in the proud array.
Upon the north-western edge of the narrow peninsula of North Holland,
washed by the stormy waters of the German Ocean, were the ancient castle,
town, and lordship, whence Egmont derived his family name, and the title
by which he was most familiarly known. He was supposed to trace his
descent, through a line of chivalrous champions and crusaders, up to the
pagan kings of the most ancient of existing Teutonic races. The eighth
century names of the Frisian Radbold and Adgild among his ancestors were
thought to denote the antiquity of a house whose lustre had been
increased in later times by the splendor of its alliances. His father,
united to Francoise de Luxemburg, Princess of Gavere, had acquired by
this marriage, and transmitted to his posterity, many of the proudest
titles and richest estates of Flanders. Of the three children who
survived him, the only daughter was afterwards united to the Count of
Vaudemont, and became mother of Louise de Vaudemont, queen of the French
monarch, Henry the Third.
Of his two sons, Charles, the elder, had died young and unmarried,
leaving all the estates and titles of the family to his brother.
Lamoral, born in 1522, was in early youth a page of the Emperor. When
old enough to bear arms he demanded and obtained permission to follow the
career of his adventurous sovereign. He served his apprenticeship as a
soldier in the stormy expedition to Barbary, where, in his nineteenth
year, he commanded a troop of light horse, and distinguished himself
under the Emperor's eye for his courage and devotion, doing the duty not
only of a gallant commander but of a hardy soldier. Returning, unscathed
by the war, flood, or tempest of that memorable enterprise, he reached
his country by the way of Corsica, Genoa, and Lorraine, and was three
years afterwards united (in the year 1545) to Sabina of Bavaria, sister
of Frederick, Elector Palatine. The nuptials had taken place at Spiers,
and few royal weddings could have been more brilliant. The Emperor, his
brother Ferdinand King of the Romans, with the Archduke Maximilian, all
the imperial electors, and a concourse of the principal nobles of the
empire, were present on the occasion been at the Emperor's side during
the unlucky siege of Metz; in 1554 he had been sent at the head of a
splendid embassy to England, to solicit for Philip the hand of Mary
Tudor, and had witnessed the marriage in Winchester Cathedral, the same
year. Although one branch of his house had, in past times, arrived at
the sovereignty of Gueldres, and another had acquired the great estates
and titles of Buren, which had recently passed, by intermarriage with the
heiress, into the possession of the Prince of Orange, yet the Prince of
Gavere, Count of Egmont, was the chief of a race which yielded to none of
the great Batavian or Flemish families in antiquity, wealth, or power.
Personally, he was distinguished for his bravery, and although he was not
yet the idol of the camp, which he was destined to become, nor had yet
commanded in chief on any important occasion, he was accounted one of the
five principal generals in the Spanish service. Eager for general
admiration, he was at the same time haughty and presumptuous, attempting
to combine the characters of an arrogant magnate and a popular chieftain.
Terrible and sudden in his wrath, he was yet of inordinate vanity, and
was easily led by those who understood his weakness. With a limited
education, and a slender capacity for all affairs except those relating
to the camp, he was destined to be as vacillating and incompetent as a
statesman, as he was prompt and fortunately audacious in the field. A
splendid soldier, his evil stars had destined him to tread, as a
politician, a dark and dangerous path, in which not even genius, caution,
and integrity could ensure success, but in which rashness alternating
with hesitation, and credulity with violence, could not fail to bring
ruin. Such was Count Egmont, as he took his place at the-head of the
king's cavalry in the summer of 1557.
The early operations of the Duke of Savoy were at first intended to
deceive the enemy. The army, after advancing as far into Picardy as the
town of Vervins, which they burned and pillaged, made a demonstration
with their whole force upon the city of Guise. This, however, was but a
feint, by which attention was directed and forces drawn off from Saint
Quentin, which was to be the real point of attack In the mean time, the
Constable of France, Montmorency, arrived upon the 28th July (1557), to
take command of the French troops. He was accompanied by the Marechal de
Saint Andre and by Admiral Coligny. The most illustrious names of
France, whether for station or valor, were in the officers' list of this
select army. Nevers and Montpensier, Enghien and Conde, Vendome and
Rochefoucauld, were already there, and now the Constable and the Admiral
came to add the strength of their experience and lofty reputation to
sustain the courage of the troops. The French were at Pierrepoint, a
post between Champagne and Picardy, and in its neighborhood. The Spanish
army was at Vervins, and threatening Guise. It had been the opinion in
France that the enemy's intention was to invade Champagne, and the Duc de
Nevers, governor of that province, had made a disposition of his forces
suitable for such a contingency. It was the conviction of Montmorency,
however, that Picardy was to be the quarter really attacked, and that
Saint Quentin, which was the most important point at which the enemy's
progress, by that route, towards Paris could be arrested, was in imminent
danger. The Constable's opinion was soon confirmed by advices received
by Coligny. The enemy's army, he was informed, after remaining three
days before Guise, had withdrawn from that point, and had invested Saint
Quentin with their whole force.
This wealthy and prosperous city stood upon an elevation rising from the
river Somme. It was surrounded by very extensive suburbs, ornamented
with orchards and gardens, and including within their limits large tracts
of a highly cultivated soil. Three sides of the place were covered by a
lake, thirty yards in width, very deep at some points, in others, rather
resembling a morass, and extending on the Flemish side a half mile beyond
the city. The inhabitants were thriving and industrious; many of the
manufacturers and merchants were very rich, for it was a place of much
traffic and commercial importance.
Teligny, son-in-law of the Admiral, was in the city with a detachment
of the Dauphin's regiment; Captain Brueuil was commandant of the town.
Both informed Coligny of the imminent peril in which they stood. They
represented the urgent necessity of immediate reinforcements both of men
and supplies. The city, as the Admiral well knew, was in no condition to
stand a siege by such an army, and dire were the consequences which would
follow the downfall of so important a place. It was still practicable,
they wrote, to introduce succor, but every day diminished the possibility
of affording effectual relief. Coligny was not the man to let the grass
grow under his feet, after such an appeal in behalf of the principal
place in his government. The safety of France was dependent upon that of
St. Quentin. The bulwark overthrown, Paris was within the next stride of
an adventurous enemy. The Admiral instantly set out, upon the 2d of
August, with strong reinforcements. It was too late. The English
auxiliaries, under Lords Pembroke, Clinton, and Grey, had, in the mean
time, effected their junction with the Duke of Savoy, and appeared in the
camp before St. Quentin. The route, by which it had been hoped that the
much needed succor could be introduced, was thus occupied and rendered
impracticable. The Admiral, however, in consequence of the urgent nature
of the letters received from Brueuil and Teligny, had outstripped, in his
anxiety, the movements of his troops. He reached the city, almost alone
and unattended. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of his officers, he
had listened to no voice save the desperate entreaties of the besieged
garrison, and had flown before his army. He now shut himself up in the
city, determined to effect its deliverance by means of his skill and
experience, or, at least, to share its fate. As the gates closed upon
Coligny, the road was blocked up for his advancing troops.
A few days were passed in making ineffectual sorties, ordered by Coligny
for the sake of reconnoitring the country, and of discovering the most
practicable means of introducing supplies. The Constable, meantime, who
had advanced with his army to La Fore, was not idle. He kept up daily
communications with the beleagured Admiral, and was determined, if
possible, to relieve the city. There was, however, a constant succession
of disappointments. Moreover, the brave but indiscreet Teligny, who
commanded during a temporary illness of the Admiral, saw fit, against
express orders, to make an imprudent sortie. He paid the penalty of his
rashness with his life. He was rescued by the Admiral in person, who,
at imminent hazard, brought back the unfortunate officer covered with
wounds, into the city, there to die at his father's feet, imploring
forgiveness for his disobedience. Meantime the garrison was daily
growing weaker. Coligny sent out of the city all useless consumers,
quartered all the women in the cathedral and other churches, where they
were locked in, lest their terror and their tears should weaken the
courage of the garrison; and did all in his power to strengthen the
defences of the city, and sustain the resolution of the inhabitants.
Affairs were growing desperate. It seemed plain that the important city
must soon fall, and with it most probably Paris. One of the suburbs was
already in the hands of the enemy. At last Coligny discovered a route by
which he believed it to be still possible to introduce reinforcements.
He communicated the results of his observations to the Constable.
Upon one side of the city the lake, or morass, was traversed by a few
difficult and narrow pathways, mostly under water, and by a running
stream which could only be passed in boats. The Constable,
in consequence of this information received from Coligny, set out from La
Fere upon the 8th of August, with four thousand infantry and two thousand
horse. Halting his troops at the village of Essigny, he advanced in
person to the edge of the morass, in order to reconnoitre the ground and
prepare his plans. The result was a determination to attempt the
introduction of men and supplies into the town by the mode suggested.
Leaving his troops drawn up in battle array, he returned to La Fere for
the remainder of his army, and to complete his preparations. Coligny in
the mean time was to provide boats for crossing the stream. Upon the
10th August, which was the festival of St. Laurence, the Constable
advanced with four pieces of heavy artillery, four culverines, and four
lighter pieces, and arrived at nine o'clock in the morning near the
Faubourg d'Isle, which was already in possession of the Spanish troops.
The whole army of the Constable consisted of twelve thousand German, with
fifteen companies of French infantry; making in all some sixteen thousand
foot, with five thousand cavalry in addition. The Duke of Savoy's army
lay upon the same side of the town, widely extended, and stretching
beyond the river and the morass. Montmorency's project was to be
executed in full view of the enemy. Fourteen companies of Spaniards were
stationed in the faubourg. Two companies had been pushed forward as far
as a water-mill, which lay in the pathway of the advancing Constable.
These soldiers stood their ground for a moment, but soon retreated, while
a cannonade was suddenly opened by the French upon the quarters of the
Duke of Savoy. The Duke's tent was torn to pieces, and he had barely
time to hurry on his cuirass, and to take refuge with Count Egmont.
The Constable, hastening to turn this temporary advantage to account at
once, commenced the transportation of his troops across the morass. The
enterprise was, however, not destined to be fortunate. The number of
boats which had been provided was very inadequate; moreover they were
very small, and each as it left the shore was consequently so crowded
with soldiers that it was in danger of being swamped. Several were
overturned, and the men perished. It was found also that the opposite
bank was steep and dangerous. Many who had crossed the river were unable
to effect a landing, while those who escaped drowning in the water lost
their way in the devious and impracticable paths, or perished miserably
in the treacherous quagmires. Very few effected their entrance into the
town, but among them was Andelot, brother of Coligny, with five hundred
followers. Meantime, a council of officers was held in Egmont's tent.
Opinions were undecided as to the course to be pursued under the
circumstances. Should an engagement be risked, or should the Constable,
who had but indifferently accomplished his project and had introduced but
an insignificant number of troops into the city, be allowed to withdraw
with the rest of his army? The fiery vehemence of Egmont carried all
before it. Here was an opportunity to measure arms at advantage with the
great captain of the age. To relinquish the prize, which the fortune of
war had now placed within reach of their valor, was a thought not to be
entertained. Here was the great Constable Montmorency, attended by
princes of the royal blood, the proudest of the nobility, the very crown
and flower of the chivalry of France, and followed by an army of her
bravest troops. On a desperate venture he had placed himself within
their grasp. Should he go thence alive and unmolested? The moral effect
of destroying such an army would be greater than if it were twice its
actual strength. It would be dealing a blow at the very heart of France,
from which she could not recover. Was the opportunity to be resigned
without a struggle of laying at the feet of Philip, in this his first
campaign since his accession to his father's realms, a prize worthy of
the proudest hour of the Emperor's reign? The eloquence of the impetuous
Batavian was irresistible, and it was determined to cut off the
Constable's retreat.
Three miles from the Faubourg d'Isle, to which that general had now
advanced, was a narrow pass or defile, between steep and closely hanging
hills. While advancing through this ravine in the morning, the Constable
had observed that the enemy might have it in their power to intercept his
return at that point. He had therefore left the Rhinegrave, with his
company of mounted carabineers, to guard the passage. Being ready to
commence his retreat, he now sent forward the Due de Nevers, with four
companies of cavalry to strengthen that important position, which he
feared might be inadequately guarded. The act of caution came too late.
This was the fatal point which the quick glance of Egmont had at once
detected. As Nevers reached the spot, two thousand of the enemy's
cavalry rode through and occupied the narrow passage. Inflamed by
mortification and despair, Nevers would have at once charged those
troops, although outnumbering his own by nearly, four to one. His
officers restrained him with difficulty, recalling to his memory the
peremptory orders which he had received from the Constable to guard the
passage, but on no account to hazard an engagement, until sustained by
the body of the army. It was a case in which rashness would have been
the best discretion. The headlong charge which the Duke had been about
to make, might possibly have cleared the path and have extricated the
army, provided the Constable had followed up the movement by a rapid
advance upon his part. As it was, the passage was soon blocked up by
freshly advancing bodies of Spanish and Flemish cavalry, while Nevers
slowly and reluctantly fell back upon the Prince of Conde, who was
stationed with the light horse at the mill where the first skirmish had
taken place. They were soon joined by the Constable, with the main body
of the army. The whole French force now commenced its retrograde
movement. It was, however, but too evident that they were enveloped. As
they approached the fatal pass through which lay their only road to La
Fire, and which was now in complete possession of the enemy, the signal
of assault was given by Count Egmont. That general himself, at the head
of two thousand light horse, led the charge upon the left flank. The
other side was assaulted by the Dukes Eric and Henry of Brunswick, each
with a thousand heavy dragoons, sustained by Count Horn, at the head of a
regiment of mounted gendarmerie. Mansfeld, Lalain, Hoogstraaten; and
Vilain, at the same time made a furious attack upon the front. The
French cavalry wavered with the shock so vigorously given. The camp
followers, sutlers, and pedlers, panic-struck, at once fled helter-
skelter, and in their precipitate retreat, carried confusion and dismay
throughout all the ranks of the army. The rout was sudden and total.
The onset and the victory were simultaneous, Nevers riding through a
hollow with some companies of cavalry, in the hope of making a detour and
presenting a new front to the enemy, was overwhelmed at once by the
retreating French and their furious pursuers. The day was lost, retreat
hardly possible, yet, by a daring and desperate effort, the Duke,
accompanied by a handful of followers, cut his way through the enemy and
effected his escape. The cavalry had been broken at the first onset and
nearly destroyed. A portion of the infantry still held firm, and
attempted to continue their retreat. Some pieces of artillery, however,
now opened upon them, and before they reached Essigny, the whole army was
completely annihilated. The defeat was absolute. Half the French troops
actually engaged in the enterprise, lost their lives upon the field. The
remainder of the army was captured or utterly disorganized. When Nevers
reviewed, at Laon, the wreck of the Constable's whole force, he found
some thirteen hundred French and three hundred German cavalry, with four
companies of French infantry remaining out of fifteen, and four thousand
German foot remaining of twelve thousand. Of twenty-one or two thousand
remarkably fine and well-appointed troops, all but six thousand had been
killed or made prisoners within an hour. The Constable himself, with a
wound in the groin, was a captive. The Duke of Enghien, after behaving
with brilliant valor, and many times rallying the troops, was shot
through the body, and brought into the enemy's camp only to expire. The
Due de Montpensier, the Marshal de Saint Andre, the Due de Loggieville,
Prince Ludovic of Mantua, the Baron Corton, la Roche du Mayne, the
Rhinegrave, the Counts de Rochefoucauld, d'Aubigni, de Rochefort, all
were taken. The Due de Nevers, the Prince of Conde, with a few others,
escaped; although so absolute was the conviction that such an escape was
impossible, that it was not believed by the victorious army. When Nevers
sent a trumpet, after the battle, to the Duke of Savoy, for the purpose
of negotiating concerning the prisoners, the trumpeter was pronounced an
impostor, and the Duke's letter a forgery; nor was it till after the
whole field had been diligently searched for his dead body without
success, that Nevers could persuade the conquerors that he was still in
existence.
Of Philip's army but fifty lost their lives. Lewis of Brederode was
smothered in his armor; and the two counts Spiegelberg and Count Waldeck
were also killed; besides these, no officer of distinction fell. All the
French standards and all their artillery but two pieces were taken, and
placed before the King, who the next day came into the camp before Saint
Quentin. The prisoners of distinction were likewise presented to him in
long procession. Rarely had a monarch of Spain enjoyed a more signal
triumph than this which Philip now owed to the gallantry and promptness
of Count Egmont.
While the King stood reviewing the spoils of victory, a light horseman of
Don Henrico Manrique's regiment approached, and presented him with a
sword. "I am the man, may it please your Majesty," said the trooper,
"who took the Constable; here is his sword; may your Majesty be pleased
to give me something to eat in my house." "I promise it," replied
Philip; upon which the soldier kissed his Majesty's hand and retired.
It was the custom universally recognized in that day, that the king was
the king's captive, and the general the general's, but that the man,
whether soldier or officer, who took the commander-in-chief, was entitled
to ten thousand ducats. Upon this occasion the Constable was the
prisoner of Philip, supposed to command his own army in person. A
certain Spanish Captain Valenzuela, however, disputed the soldier's claim
to the Constable's sword. The trooper advanced at once to the Constable,
who stood there with the rest of the illustrious prisoners. "Your
excellency is a Christian," said he; "please to declare upon your
conscience and the faith of a cavalier, whether 't was I that took you
prisoner. It need not surprise your excellency that I am but a soldier,
since with soldiers his Majesty must wage his wars." "Certainly,"
replied the Constable, "you took me and took my horse, and I gave you my
sword. My word, however, I pledged to Captain Valenzuela." It
appearing, however, that the custom of Spain did not recognize a pledge
given to any one but the actual captor, it was arranged that the soldier
should give two thousand of his ten thousand ducats to the captain. Thus
the dispute ended.
Such was the brilliant victory of Saint Quentin, worthy to be placed in
the same list with the world-renowned combats of Creqy and Agincourt.
Like those battles, also, it derives its main interest from the personal
character of the leader, while it seems to have been hallowed by the
tender emotions which sprang from his subsequent fate. The victory was
but a happy move in a winning game. The players were kings, and the
people were stakes--not parties. It was a chivalrous display in a war
which was waged without honorable purpose, and in which no single lofty
sentiment was involved. The Flemish frontier was, however, saved for the
time from the misery which was now to be inflicted upon the French
border. This was sufficient to cause the victory to be hailed as
rapturously by the people as by the troops. From that day forth the
name of the brave Hollander was like the sound of a trumpet to the army.
"Egmont and Saint Quentin" rang through every mouth to the furthest
extremity of Philip's realms. A deadly blow was struck to the very heart
of France. The fruits of all the victories of Francis and Henry
withered. The battle, with others which were to follow it, won by the
same hand, were soon to compel the signature of the most disastrous
treaty which had ever disgraced the history of France.