Scouting for Coligny
As Roger had prophesied, not all the Huguenot soldiers were prepared to follow their intrepid leader; but on that memorable April morning of 1570 we swung out from Nismes some five thousand strong, all horsemen, for Coligny had mounted the three thousand arquebusiers who formed the major part of our force.
The journey from Saintes to Narbonne had been tedious, and, because of the bitter winter cold, full of hardship, but we had not met with opposition. Now we were launched straight into the midst of a hostile district filled with the king's troops, and few days passed without some skirmish, in which, though petty enough, we could ill afford to engage.
It seems little to put down on paper—how we rode hour after hour, often with insufficient food; how we watched at night, sometimes springing to arms at a false alarm, and more than once having to fight desperately to beat off a surprise attack; but it was a stiff business for those who went through with it.
We were, however, in good spirits, and pushed on steadily day after day, picking up a few recruits here and there to strengthen our army. The men were sturdy, resolute fellows, full of zeal for the Cause, and ready to lay down their lives for the Admiral, to whom they were devoted.
How wholly dependent we were upon him, in spite of the presence of Prince Henry and young Condé, became plain when he was taken ill at St. Etienne. The march was stopped abruptly, and for three weeks we waited in fear and doubt, asking ourselves anxiously what would happen if he died.
Even the sanguine Felix admitted that without him the enterprise would result in failure, but fortunately the Admiral recovered, and we resumed our march.
The halt which we were forced to make at St. Etienne had done us considerable service. Horses and men alike were broken down by fatigue, loss of sleep, and scanty rations, and the long rest had restored their strength. Shortly before leaving, too, a body of cavalry, fifteen hundred strong, had ridden into camp amidst the acclamations of the assembled troops.
"Now," said Felix joyously, "Monseigneur can meet us as soon as he likes."
After leaving St. Etienne we soon discovered that the worst part of the journey was still before us. Our way lay over rugged crests, and along the edge of steep precipices overhanging gloomy chasms. Nothing save a few chestnut trees, whose fruit was not yet ripe, grew on that bare, stony ground, while the only animals were small, stunted sheep, and mountain goats.
Here and there we passed a tiny hamlet, but for the most part we marched through a wild and desolate solitude, through steep and gloomy gorges with rapid torrents thundering at the bottom. In the upper passes the snow lay deep, and more than once as we stumbled along a piercing shriek told us that some unfortunate animal, missing its footing, had hurled its wretched rider into eternity.
At length, to the loudly expressed joy of every man in the army, we left the gloomy wilderness behind, and emerged into a rich and smiling valley. The animals neighed with delight on seeing the fresh sweet grass, and we who had shivered with the bitter cold in the mountain passes rejoiced at the glorious warmth of the sun.
But now we had to proceed with far greater caution, since at any moment a royalist army might swoop down upon us. Sharp-sighted scouts rode ahead and on our flanks, while messengers frequently arrived bringing information for our general. According to these accounts Monseigneur was still in the west, but Marshal Cossé had been despatched with a strong army to oppose us.
We had halted for the night some ten miles or so from Arnay-le-Duc, and I was gossiping with Roger Braund and several of the Englishmen—their numbers by this time, alas! had thinned considerably—when Felix came up hastily, his eyes shining with keen excitement.
"Any fresh news?" asked Roger.
"Nothing certain," my comrade answered, "but Cossé is reported to be at or near Arnay-le-Duc. Edmond are you for a ride?"
"With all my heart," said I, "but where?"
"To find out what we can about Cossé. I have the Admiral's instructions. I told Jacques to saddle your horse; but you must hurry."
"Good-night, Roger; good-night, gentlemen," I said, laughing; "you can sleep soundly, knowing that we are awake."
"Take care!" laughed Roger good-humouredly, "and don't let that madcap get you into mischief. I shouldn't be surprised if he tries to get his information from Cossé himself."
"I would," declared Felix merrily, "if he gave me half a chance; but we must really go; the Admiral"—and he drew himself up with an air of assumed importance—"depends upon us."
"Good-bye," laughed Roger, "you won't be a prisoner long; we will capture the marshal and exchange him for you!"
"Monseigneur would make a poor bargain if he agreed to that!" said my comrade, as we went off light-heartedly.
"Shall we take Jacques?" I asked, as we hurried along.
"He has settled that question for himself," returned Felix in high glee; "he is saddling his own animal as well as ours."
"What does the Admiral wish to learn?"
"The enemy's numbers. The reports are conflicting and range from five thousand to thirty, but we will discover the truth for ourselves before the morning."
"At any rate we will do our best. There is Jacques; he has lost little time; the horses are ready. My pistols, Jacques!"
"They are in the holsters, monsieur, and loaded."
"Into the saddle then! Have you the password, Felix?"
"Yes; 'tis Roche Abeille."
"A good choice! 'Tis an omen of success. Have you any idea of the proper direction?"
"I can find the way easily to Arnay-le-Duc; I have had a long talk with one of the couriers."
Having passed our last outpost, where we stayed to chat for a moment with the officer in command, we proceeded at a brisk pace, my comrade feeling assured that we should not meet an enemy during the first six miles. After that distance we went more slowly and with greater caution, for if the marshal was really at Arnay-le-Duc, his patrols were probably scouring the neighbourhood.
About four miles from the town we entered the street of a straggling village. It was a half after ten; the lights in the cottages were out; the villagers had retired to bed.
"Shall we do any good by knocking up the landlord of the inn?" I asked.
"What say you, Jacques?"
"We shall probably learn the village gossip, and if the marshal is anywhere near Arnay-le-Duc it will be known here."
"True," said my comrade; "let us lead the animals into the yard. Edmond, hammer at the door!"
The landlord was in bed, but he came down quickly, and, having shown us into his best room, proceeded to draw the wine which Felix ordered.
"You are in bed early," I remarked on his return. "Have you no guests in the house?"
"None, monsieur."
"We expected to meet with some of the king's troops here: have they passed through already?"
"There have been no soldiers in the village, monsieur."
"But surely they are close at hand!"
"If monsieur means Marshal Cossé's army, it is ten miles off. At least Philippe said so when he came home this evening."
"Who is Philippe?"
"He lives in the village, monsieur; he could guide you to the soldiers. Shall I fetch him?"
"Yes," I replied, "and waste no time. Jacques," and I glanced at my servant meaningly, "you might go with the worthy host."
They returned in less than half an hour, bringing with them a short, thin man, spare in build, but tough and wiry. His eyes were sharp and bright, and his face was shrewd and full of intelligence.
"Are you a good Catholic, Philippe?" I asked.
His glance passed from me to Felix and back again so swiftly that he might never have taken his gaze from my face. Then he said with the most natural hesitation in the world, and as if fully expecting to suffer for his confession, "I hope monsieur will not be offended, but I belong to the Religion."
"Faith, Philippe," I said, "I guessed you were shrewd; you are the very fellow for our purpose. Since you belong to the Religion"—the rascal's lips twitched ever so slightly—"you will have no scruple in helping us. We are of the Religion, too."
"Is it possible, monsieur?" he said, with a start of well-feigned surprise.
"Now listen to me," I continued; "you know where the marshal's army is. Don't contradict; it will be useless."
"I am attending, monsieur."
"We want to see this army, but we do not wish to introduce ourselves to the soldiers. Now a sharp guide, thoroughly acquainted with the district, can easily lead us to a place from which we can learn all we want to know. Is not that a good scheme?"
"It has one serious drawback, monsieur."
"Speak on; we are listening."
"If the guide should be caught by the king's troops, he would be hanged."
"That is awkward, certainly. On the other hand, if he refuses to go he will die by the sword. You are a sensible man, Philippe, and will see the force of my remarks. Now, which is it to be? Will you earn a few crowns by taking the risk, or will you lose your life at once?"
"Truly, monsieur," said he, after a pause, "you place me in an unpleasant position; but since there is no way out of it, I will do as you wish."
"A sensible answer, and there is but one thing more to add. If you are thinking to play us false, we count three swords and six loaded pistols, and you cannot reasonably expect to escape them all."
"Monsieur's kindness in pointing out these things is truly touching!" exclaimed the rascal with a broad grin.
"My friend is noted for such kindness!" laughed Felix. "And now let us get into the saddle. Is there a spare horse in the stables, landlord?"
"Yes, monsieur," replied our host, whose limbs were shaking through fright.
"Then we shall use it for Philippe. Don't be afraid; we will pay you for the hire."
"Monsieur is very good."
"And a word in your ear, landlord. On our return, do not let us find that your tongue has been wagging!"
We rode out from the inn yard, Jacques and Philippe in front, Felix and I following.
"He is a clever rascal," remarked Felix in a low voice; "he is no Huguenot."
"If he is," I replied laughing quietly, "'twas a quick conversion. He was certainly a good Catholic until he had taken note of our dress. But the fellow will guide us aright, for his own sake. He is quick enough to calculate the chances."
Occasionally one or other of us cantered forward and rode a short distance by his side, while Jacques watched him constantly with the eyes of a hawk. But the fellow who was keen enough to understand that treachery would result in his own death, whatever else happened, led us very carefully across country and right away from the beaten tracks until about three o'clock in the morning, when he came to a halt on the top of a wooded hill.
"Very softly!" he whispered, "we are in the rear of the army, but there may be some sentries at hand. When day breaks we shall see the camp almost at our feet."
I bade Jacques lead the animals deeper into the wood, lest they should attract attention; then Felix and I lay down with the guide between us.
"So far, Philippe, you have served us well," whispered my comrade. "You will pocket those crowns yet!"
"Hush, monsieur; a single sound may cost us our lives."
This was true, so we lay silent, watching for the breaking of dawn. Little by little the night haze cleared away; the light broke through the clouds; the sun rose, lighting up first the distant hills, and presently revealing the secret of the plain beneath. The bugles sounded; men came from their tents, rubbing their eyes still burdened with sleep, and before long all the camp was astir.
"Guns!" said Felix; "how many do you make, Edmond?"
"Six," I replied, after a careful survey.
"I can count six, too," he said. "According to our spies the marshal had no guns."
I nudged our guide, saying, "What is the number of the troops down there?"
"Fifteen thousand infantry, and six thousand horsemen, monsieur," he answered promptly.
"It may be so," I said, "but we shall be better able to judge when they are ready to march."
For two hours we lay flat on the ground, with our eyes fixed on the camp, never changing our position, and speaking hardly a word. We watched the cavalry feed and groom the animals, and saw the troops sit down to breakfast. Then a body of horsemen, about fifty or sixty in number, rode out from the camp in the direction of Arnay-le-Duc.
After a while the troops fell in, and a number of richly-dressed officers rode along the lines, as if to inspect them.
"Jacques," I said softly, for all this time he had remained with the animals, "if you can leave the horses, come here."
In two or three minutes he had crept close up to us, and was looking steadily at the camp.
"How many, Jacques?" I asked, for he was an old campaigner, with far more experience than either Felix or I possessed.
"'Tis a nice little army," he said after a time, "but"—with a sidelong glance at Philippe—"no match for ours. Why, the Marshal has hardly more than four thousand horsemen, with thirteen thousand infantry at the outside."
"My own estimate!" exclaimed Felix; "what do you say, Edmond?"
"One can easily make a mistake at this work," I answered, "but I should think your guess is not far from the truth."
"Then we need stay no longer. Come," to the guide, "lead us back safely, and the crowns are yours."
Stealing very quietly and cautiously into the wood, we took our horses by the bridle, and led them—Jacques going in front and closely followed by our guide—along a narrow path, away from the camp. At the end of the wood we mounted, and, riding in twos, set out briskly on the return journey.
Thanks to Philippe, we reached the inn without mishap, paid the landlord, who was evidently surprised at seeing us again, for the loan of his horse, and handed our guide his promised reward.
"Put the crowns in your purse, my man," said Felix, "and for your own sake I should advise you not to open your lips. Marshal Cossé may not be too pleased with your night's work."
We cantered off at a sharp pace, eager to acquaint the Admiral with our success, and had covered a little more than half the distance, when, on turning a bend in the road, we perceived about a dozen horsemen galloping full tilt towards us.
"King's men!" cried Jacques quickly. "A patrol from the camp on their way back."
"We must ride through them!" exclaimed Felix. "'Tis our only chance. All three abreast, Jacques. Ready?"
There being no other way out of the business, except that of standing still to be captured, we drew our swords and, crying "For the Admiral!" dashed boldly at them. They were riding in no sort of order, but straggled along loosely, each intent, it seemed to me, on getting first. They were clearly surprised at encountering us, and, beyond a few hasty sword-strokes in passing,—and these did no damage—made no effort to oppose our passage.
Several yards behind the main body two men were stumbling along on wounded horses. They themselves were hurt also, and both promptly surrendered at our challenge.
"Faith!" cried Felix, "this is a queer proceeding. Ah, there is the reason," as a strong patrol of our own men came thundering along. The leader pointed ahead with his sword, as if asking a question, and Felix exclaimed quickly, "They are in front; their horses are getting blown."
We drew aside to give them room, as they galloped past in a cloud of dust, and then my comrade, turning to Jacques, said, "Can you manage the prisoners, Jacques? We must hurry on."
My servant produced a loaded pistol. "I am well provided, monsieur," he answered. "I think these gentlemen will not give trouble."
"Very good. Take your time; I expect our troops are on the march. Forward, Edmond," and, setting spurs to our horses, we galloped off.
All danger was over now, and before long we caught sight of the advanced-guard of our army.
"Can you tell us where to find the general?" asked Felix of an officer, as we pulled up.
"He is with the centre, monsieur. Have you seen the enemy?"
"Yes," I answered, riding on, "and there will be some stirring work soon!"