CHAPTER VI.
I had remarked particularly, in the painful interview just past, that neither good old La Tour, nor the two dear boys who were daily growing up more and more like their angel of a mother, had been present; but I learned afterward that many painful efforts had been made to induce Louise to wed a man she abhorred, and that her brothers had broken forth with somewhat rash expressions of indignation, while La Tour had remonstrated in milder but as forcible terms. The consequence had been, that the baron had sent them all three to some distance, and probably was not a little glad, when the scene terminated as it did, that he had taken that precaution. I received from him that night a threatening note, but it was so worded as evidently to court a lengthened reply; and, after pondering over it for some moments, I showed it to the prince, who came in at the time. He read it attentively; but, wise beyond his years, he returned it, saying,
"Keep that note, De Cerons; and, if you will take my advice, reply but vaguely, and still as shortly as possible."
I did take his advice; and to all the haughty demands of how I dared to offer opposition to his disposal of his own child, I replied, merely, that I had acted as I doubted not would be found just in a court of law; but at the same time I added--as it was my first wish not to irritate the father of her I sought to obtain--all that was kind and deferential towards himself.
D'Auvergne approved highly of my note; but, as he gave it back to me, he placed his hand kindly upon my arm and said, "And now, De Cerons, remember our compact; you must, after all this business, go immediately into the Low Countries upon the conditions I stated. For your own safety I say you must, for your stay in Paris as a known and marked Huguenot will be most dangerous; but you must also do so for our sake. My father, as well as myself, wishes you every success in your suit; but remember, we must not be found taking any undue advantage either of De Blaye or Monsieur de Blancford; all that we wish is to give you a fair chance; and, as soon as we have the positive assurance that the former is fairly gone from Paris, you must go and win honours and renown with the bright hope of obtaining her you love."
I felt myself bound in honour to follow his injunctions to the letter, and only required one day to prepare, and to ascertain that the Seigneur de Blaye had actually departed. Much business, however, remained to be done in the mean time. I had to write to the Admiral de Coligny, giving him information of the conditions that were imposed upon me, and begging him to transmit whatever money of mine remained in his hands, when convenience served, to good Master Vern. I had to write to Moric Endem, giving him, as far as it was needful, orders to command my troop in the service of the Protestant princes; and I had to buy all those necessary equipments for my journey and for active service, few of which I now possessed. The attendants that I had brought with me were all that I could expect to obtain, as few in Paris were willing to own themselves of the poor and persecuted sect.
On the following morning early, then, I rode into Paris, and went straight to the house of Martin Vern, when I was directed to seek him at the dwelling of Levi Judi, the great goldsmith. I there found a number of persons whom I knew collected together, and talking earnestly in a small, dark room. There were the two Christian merchants with Solomon Ahar and his daughter Miriam; and besides these was Levi himself, the converted Jew, who was speaking when I came in, and suddenly stopped. They were all evidently rejoicing over some event, which proved to be the success of my opposition to the young Lord of Blaye; and I now learned that he had been obliged to depart by daybreak that morning, letters of reproof having been sent him from Blois for having already lingered too long.
I thought Miriam's satisfaction would have exceeded all bounds; and a slight degree of discomfort which I remarked in the demeanour of the younger Martin Vern at the sight of Miriam's evident regard for me, first gave me a suspicion of matters which were going on in their hearts, perhaps as yet unknown to both.
After some conversation upon the chief topic of all my thoughts, I took the good merchant aside, and telling him the destiny that awaited me, begged him to procure, as reasonably as possible, all I stood in need of before night. I also told him that, with the exception of what my equipment might cost, I should leave all I had in his hands, having plenty by me for my journey; and I then besought him, if he obtained any speech with my sweet Louise alone, to tell her that I loved her ever, and would never cease to seek her hand so long as I had life.
He mused for some time over what I said, committed all my orders to a note-book, and then said, in his calm and business-like tone, "I will do all this as far as possible, seigneur, and will be at Champigny with you to-night; but I have a request to make, which you may think a strange one from a poor merchant like myself. It is, that if ever you be placed in difficulties again regarding this transaction between your noble cousin the baron and Monsieur de Blaye, you would give some of us instant and full intelligence; for, though we be merely citizens, we have some say in many families; and perhaps, had not your opposition yesterday morning been successful, Martin Vern might not have been upon the stairs for nothing."
I pressed him much to explain what he meant, but he would not; and promising, in return for the interest he showed in me, to place the confidence he required in him, I left him and went back to Champigny. I found the prince dauphin busily writing when I arrived, with several letters before him sealed with various different seals; and when he had ended those that he himself was employed upon, he gave them all to me.
"These, De Cerons," he said, "are letters from my father, and from some of the ministers of the king to different princes and nobles in the Low Countries and on the Rhenish frontier of Germany; two among them being to the Prince of Orange. They will, beyond all doubt, procure you every opportunity, and you will do the rest to raise yourself still higher than you yet have done. This which I have written is to the Count de Bergh, to whom I once did some kindness; and this, in case of extreme need, is to the Duke of Alva. I mean by extreme need that you should use it in case your life is in danger from some of Alva's proceedings. He is a nobleman of a high heart and gallant character; but the streams of Toledo, which harden steel to such a temper, have not altogether left his heart untouched by their influence. At the sight of this, however, he will free you as he is bound to do; and now, De Cerons, if I can at any future time serve, aid, or befriend you, call upon me instantly as you would upon a brother; and depend upon it that I will give you information, even should you be at the other end of the earth, the moment there is even a whisper of your rival's return."
I thanked him, as may be supposed; and the conversation that thus commenced went on to touch upon a thousand things, in regard to all of which, his mingled kindness of heart and soundness of judgment made me but admire and love him more and more.
At night, nearly at ten o'clock, Martin Vern himself arrived, with horses loaded with all that I required; but there was one small note among the rest far more valuable to me than anything else that he brought with him. It was from Louise, and very short; but oh, how sweet it was to me to read!
"Dear, dear Henry! A thousand thanks, a thousand blessings on your head for saving me from distraction. I am better now--I am well now. They know your love for me, they now know mine for you; and they will find neither fail, I am sure. The worst is over. They cannot shake me. I am yours for ever!
"LOUISE."
The account given me by Martin Vern was even more cheering than the letter of Louise herself; he had seen her, he said, and spoken with her long in her chamber. During the whole of the preceding day she had been so ill that the baron had become alarmed and grieved, and, in order to make some atonement, had sent for jewels and rich clothes as gifts to his daughter. It showed how little he knew her nature; with Louise, one kind word would have been worth all the jewels upon earth.
After speaking long of her, the good merchant turned to other matters; and not only gave me the long-delayed acknowledgment of the sums of mine he had in hand, but pointed out means by which I might be enabled to obtain money, should I need it, in any of the great towns which I was likely to visit. My equipage was now complete, and on the following morning at daybreak I began my journey, proposing in the first place to seek the Prince of Orange. The kindness of the prince dauphin showed itself to the last moment, and he was up and out to see me depart, embracing me ere I mounted my horse as if he had been my brother.
I found the Prince of Orange labouring hard to gather a sufficient army on the German side of the Rhine to support the insurgent Protestants of the Low Countries; and as he himself, and his brother Count Ludovic, had been much with our troops in France, my name was not unknown to him. He received me kindly and gladly; but there was about him a sort of cold and suspicious reserve, which doubtless was very needful, but which had a tendency to check attachment in the outset; and, had it not been for his great wisdom, skill, courage, and determination, which were already well known, one would have been inclined to say that he was less calculated than almost any other man on earth to sustain the character of a popular leader. The great difference, however, which exists between the mere capricious outbreak of popular discontent and the determined resistance to insufferable oppression, is shown in nothing more strongly than in the choice of leaders. The fiery, impetuous, loud-tongued demagogue does well enough for the one, but the calm, cool, powerful-minded statesman must be sought for in the other.
The Prince of Orange gave me authority and command, but it was long ere he trusted me; and I could often see that, in conversing with me upon any indifferent subject, he watched every word that fell from me, every look, every gesture; but it was the same with others; and, ere he was perfectly satisfied with his own knowledge of the man, he never trusted, nor, even then, trusted entirely.
The first proof of the confidence that he at length placed in me was rather diplomatic than military. His movements had been retarded by a thousand adverse circumstances, and he sent me on to Holland to communicate with Sounoy, and to do as much as possible to keep up the spirits of the Dutch malcontents. From Holland I had to make a tour through Utrecht, Guelderland, and Friesland, and was, on the whole, far more successful than I had expected. On my return to the prince, I found him well pleased with what I had done, and, on making a report of some of my proceedings, I saw a quiet smile curl his lip, which made me stop suddenly.
"You wish to know why I smile, De Cerons," he said; "it is because you have done exactly what I expected, and what no hackneyed diplomatist would have done. I have often remarked that, in rapid negotiations, a man of strong natural sense, but little experience in intrigue, puts to fault a whole host of old politicians. If they had time to discover his true character, the result would be lost; but, as it is, they attribute to experience that which is merely the result of good sense, and puzzle themselves to discover motives, overstepping the true ones that he lays before them. However, De Cerons," he continued, "I have good news for you; news which, as a Protestant and a Frenchman, you will be glad to hear. Peace is concluded in France; and the secret assurances of support from King Charles which you brought me, and which I did not trust, are thus confirmed."
He then went on to give me a full account of all the events which had taken place in France since I left him; events which had reached me only in rumours during my journey. We were all deceived by the fair aspect of events. The military preparations of the Protestants of the Low Countries went on rapidly; town after town revolted against the tyranny of Alva; where leaders and assistance were wanted, the Prince of Orange despatched them in all speed from his camp, and my military life again began.
On it, however, I need not dwell; the general events of the times are written in general histories, and my own individual career offered nothing but the usual occurrences in the life of a soldier, who, not naturally timid, has every motive to daring exploits. I was not less active or less brave than others; and there was no one more fortunate than myself. Honours, rewards, and recompenses flowed in upon me rapidly; the news that I daily received from France was most joyful: the Protestants were not only treated with gentleness, but with especial favour: the admiral ruled the court of France, and a regular French army was promised to cooperate. So far, indeed, was this proceeding carried, that by the same courier I received news that Count Ludovic had been sent to maintain a correspondence with the Protestants of Flanders, tidings that he had captured Mons, and a commission for myself, under the hand of the King of France, to raise a regiment of Protestant soldiery for the service of the Flemish insurgents.
It was now full spring in the year 1672, and, as soon as I showed the commission I had received to the Prince of Orange, he exclaimed,
"If this man is deceiving us, De Cerons, he forgets no means to blind the eyes of all, However, we must take advantage of the opportunity, at all events, whether it be afforded for the purpose of deceiving us or not. Are you willing, De Cerons, to take the risk of a hazardous journey to join my brother in Mons, to tell him that the Duke of Alva will certainly besiege him, and that I as certainly will march to his relief without the loss of a moment? Then hasten on yourself into France, raise a regiment, and bring it to our aid."
It may easily be supposed that I did not hesitate; and with a train which had now been increased again to about twenty men, I set off for Mons. I reached it some time before the siege commenced, and was received with joy by the gallant and enterprising Prince of Nassau, who that very day took me round the fortifications, and entertained me at supper, perhaps making a little more of my arrival than the event warranted, in order to raise the spirits of the garrison and inhabitants.
After supper, torches were waiting to light me home to the quarters prepared for me, and, accompanied by one of the count's officers, I was proceeding through the streets, when we were met by a small party of soldiery, who stopped to look after us. The next moment I heard my own name pronounced aloud, and a young officer, running after us, cast his arms affectionately round me. What was my surprise to behold my young cousin Charles! He followed me to my quarters; and I now learned that Albert, as well as himself, unable any longer to endure the tyranny of their stepmother and the daily disgrace of their father, had quitted their paternal roof, and, with the young Prince of Nassau, had thrown themselves into the city of Mons. There they had met with a part of my old band, commanded by Moric Endem; and when I told them that I was about to raise a regiment to join the Prince of Orange, they besought me eagerly to let them serve under me.
That matter was settled easily; Moric was sent for, and I thought would have gone mad with delight at seeing me again. He was evidently not in such good circumstances as when I left him, and he declared that fortune had quitted my band when I was taken at Jarnac. Only six of the men had survived Moncontour and Arnai le Duc; and on the following morning I begged Count Louis to permit me to take these six, with Moric and my two young cousins, to form a sort of nucleus for my future regiment. He hesitated; for to say truth, he had no men to spare; but the difficulty was removed by my offering to leave an equal number of those who had accompanied me to Mons.
I was eager to proceed on my journey; but my adventures in Mons were not yet over. It was necessary to procure money for the raising of the force I intended to levy, as I had transmitted to Martin Vern all the wealth I had acquired during my absence. It luckily happened, however, that I had a letter from him to one of the wealthy Catholic bankers of Mons, and to him I hastened as soon as I had given Moric and my two cousins notice to prepare for departure.
I found the old man I sought in a dressing-gown of rich brocade, a black velvet cap on his large head, and a pen in his mouth. He listened to me, read the letter, and looked me all over in silence somewhat offensive, and at length I told him that I was in haste, and begged that he would attend to my demand.
"You are not like him here described," said the old man, dryly; "how shall I know, if you be in such haste, that you are the right person?"
I answered, I believe, somewhat angrily, and he rejoined, "Ha, ha! Frenchmen are always prompt; but it so befalls, young gentleman, that there is in this very house, at this very time, a partner of the house of Martin Vern and Company."
"What, his nephew?" I cried.
"Not so, young gentleman," answered the merchant; "but he shall be called in, and you shall soon have your answer."
Thus saying, he rose, and, opening a door behind him, spoke a word to some one in the neighbouring room. The next moment appeared in the doorway the figure of my old acquaintance, Solomon Ahar. The good Jew started forward, and, in his Oriental fashion, fell upon my neck, embracing me.
"How I have longed to see thee, my son!" he said; "how delighted my poor Miriam will be to hear that thou art here in safety! but stay not in this town till they bring the armies round it and lay siege to it. It is well to be here while one can come and go, for there is always much traffic in gold, and silver, and light goods when a place is likely to be assaulted from without; but no wise man should stay after there be gates shut against the goers out as well as the comers in. Stay but till I go, my son, which will now be in a few days, and then journey with me to Paris, where a certain gold-hilted dagger, with seven fine jewels in the haft, is laid up safely for thee; and thy money has been put out to interest, and used in traffic, and has brought thee, I think, wellnigh fifty for the hundred."
There was now no farther question in regard to the money; and, having informed the Jew, who was really grateful and kindly hearted, what were my purposes, I received some valuable information from him as to where I was likely to procure men. I then took what money I wanted, and, bidding Solomon Ahar adieu, was soon once more beyond the walls of Mons, and in the high road towards France. There were parties of the enemy about between Mons and Cambray, however, and it was with some difficulty that we reached the French frontier. There, however, I soon increased my force to between three and four hundred men, and was thinking of beginning my march with that number to join the Prince of Orange, when I received letters from the admiral and from the Prince d'Auvergne, to both of whom I had written, advising me to join a considerable force under the gallant but wrong-headed Genlis, who had raised, by a commission from the king, a force of nearly six thousand men. At the same time, the admiral informed me that the king, at his request, had raised the estate of Les Bois into a lordship for me, under the title of Count des Bois and Cerons.
This was indeed very joyful news; and though the credit of the admiral seemed to me almost inconceivable, yet I obeyed his desire at once, and prepared to join Genlis, though determined to act independently of him if his rash vanity should render it necessary. The admiral's letter had distinctly stated that Genlis was about to march to join the Prince of Orange; but, when I at length met that officer at Noyon, I found him determined to march direct upon Mons.
As by this time the siege of that place was formed, and as I had heard, on good authority, that the Duke of Ascoe was marching to swell the forces of Alva's army, the idea which Genlis had taken up, that he could deliver Mons with a force of less than six thousand men, seemed to me so absurd, that I told him at once I would not accompany him, my intention and duty being to join the Prince of Orange. He answered at first by a sneer, but shortly after begged me at least to accompany him as far as St. Quentin, as he had learned that the peasantry on the frontier had been armed by the Duke of Alva, and were in force in that neighbourhood.
On the following day we made a short march towards Ham; but we soon learned that Don Ferdinand de Toledo was before us, with a regular army equal to our own, instead of a troop of ill-disciplined peasantry.
The enemy as now within ten miles' march of us; a battle was inevitable; and, of course, it was impossible even to think of retiring at that moment. Yet, ere the sun went down, I had only one desire, namely, to mount my horse and ride to Paris at full speed. At Guiscard, where we halted for the night, a courier reached me from the prince dauphin. The words of the letter were so few and prompt, that they evinced how eagerly and hastily my friend had written.
"If you can with honour," so the letter went, "give up your command and come to Paris, do so without a moment's delay. Your rival, without warning or notice of any kind, has returned--is in Paris, and in the house of the Baron de Blancford. You will blame me for this, but I can endure the blame; for, on my honour, I do not deserve it. His journey has been concealed with care; and, though I watched anxiously, have been deceived. Come quick, then, De Cerons, for you Protestants now carry everything at the court before you; and if you delay an hour, Monsieur de Blancford's influence may have overborne all. Think, too, what must be your course; for remember, that, as we both foresaw, your late opposition to the will of the father in the marriage of his own daughter was declared vexatious by the Parliament, and you were fined a hundred crowns. If you resolve on letting the sword decide between you and your rival, forget not your friend D'Auvergne."
Scarcely giving the messenger time to refresh himself, I despatched him with two letters, one to the Dauphin d'Auvergne, informing him of the position in which we stood with regard to the enemy, and telling him I would but stay to fight, and then hasten back to the capital; and the other to the good Martin Vern, whose parting words in regard to my love of Louise gave me the only glimpse of hope that could now visit me. To him I told all that had occurred as briefly as possible; but besought him, at all events, to use the utmost exertions to stop any hasty steps on the part of the baron.
It may easily be imagined that the tidings I had received did not reconcile me greatly to the mad folly of Genlis, and I began the march on the following morning out of spirits and out of humour; but the march of the whole force, the negligence and vain confidence with which Genlis conducted it, made a great addition to my discomfort. At length we came to a small stream, over which it was necessary to construct a bridge; and seeing, from the disarray of the whole force, that, if attacked at that moment by an enemy of one half our strength, we might be absolutely cut to pieces, I caused my men to seize upon the tower of an old church, which had before been pierced for musketry, and which, while the rest were busy at the bridge, I took some pains to strengthen, having an impression on my mind that we should meet with a check.
When the bridge was concluded we again began our advance, and entered a little wood, through which we straggled rather than marched. We had scarcely passed it, however, when a party which had been thrown forward was driven in, with a strong body of men-at-arms at their heels. I charged and broke the Spanish men-at-arms. But it now became evident that a trap had been laid for us: a tremendous fire was opened upon my men from a bed of osiers that flanked the ground; charge after charge of the enemy's cavalry took place; and, overwhelmed by numbers, as well as taken unaware, after maintaining a hopeless combat for near an hour and a half, we were obliged to fly as best we could. Genlis, it must be said, did all that courage, and skill, and coolness could do to remedy his former faults, but in vain. He himself was taken in endeavouring to cover the retreat of the infantry; and all I could do was to bring off a part--a very small part--of my own men, with one piece of artillery.
I was hotly pursued, however, and had no time to destroy the bridge. My only resource was to throw myself into the church, and defend it as long as possible. What I had done in the morning now proved my salvation. The cavalry who followed kept us blockaded during the whole of that night and a part of the next day, but they could not remain long enough to starve us out; we kept them at a distance with our firearms, and a small body of musketeers who joined them were driven back with loss.
At length I offered to capitulate, as I found the men beginning sadly to feel the want of water, and the terms granted me were certainly far more favourable than I dared hope. We were permitted to march out with our arms, but it was exacted from us that we should swear not to fight against the King of Spain for two complete years; and, well satisfied with the result, we retired from our post, and made the best of our way back to Noyon. It was there first that my young cousin Charles complained of a wound in the shoulder, but he represented it as slight; and, leaving the men we had brought off under his command, I set out for Paris with Moric Endem and one or two others, determined to obtain, if possible, through the intervention of the admiral, some reward for the gallant fellows who survived our defeat.
Albert de Blancford remained with his brother; but I afterward found that the wound of my poor cousin had that very night assumed so unfavourable an appearance that he was obliged to relinquish the command to the other, who, terrified at the state to which he soon saw his brother reduced, divided the greater portion of the money I had left with him among the men, and suffered the shattered remnant of the regiment to disperse. He then placed his brother in a litter and returned to Paris, seeking his father's house immediately, but finding nothing but sorrow there.