Almost immediately after his marriage, Condé took the field again. He was burning to distinguish himself and efface the memory of the disaster of the previous year, which had furnished the King of Navarre and his little Court of Nérac with material for many biting jests at his expense.[114] Glory, however, continued to evade his pursuit, and his solitary success was gained in a cavalry skirmish before Saintes, which, however, cost him so dear that he is said to have been “more afflicted by his losses than elated by his victory.”[115]
In August, an armistice was concluded, and the remainder of the year was spent in negotiations, which led to nothing. They enabled Condé, however, to spend a few weeks with his bride at Saint-Jean-d’Angely, where, as most of the prince’s property had been sequestrated by the Crown, while it was not until nearly two years after the marriage that the Duchesse de Thouars condescended to pay her daughter’s dowry, they were obliged to content themselves with a very modest establishment. Indeed, to judge from the following letter from the princess to Longuespée, her agent at Taillebourg, there must have been times when they found themselves greatly embarrassed for even comparatively small sums of money:
“Longuespée, my knowledge of the good-will which you have long shown in our service has caused me to write you, to beg you to do me the favour of handing to the bearer of this the sum of one hundred écus, on account of larger sums which are due to her for bread that she has supplied while my husband and I have been here. And, if just now you have not the sum mentioned, I beg you to make arrangements to obtain it, so that I may satisfy her, assuring you that the favour which you will be doing me will be very agreeable to me, and hoping to remember it on the first occasion which presents itself as willingly as I shall remain your good mistress,
“X. de la Tremoille”
“At Saint-Jean-d’Angely, this 21 September 1586.
“I beg you again not to refuse me.”[116]
On 30 April, 1587, the Princesse de Condé gave birth to “a daughter worthy of such a mother,” who received the name of Éléonore, in memory of the prince’s mother, and became in 1606 the wife of Philip William of Nassau, Prince of Orange.
Early in the new year hostilities were resumed, and Condé gained several successes in Poitou and Saintonge. In October, the King of Navarre and Condé marched from La Rochelle to the Loire to meet the latter’s younger brothers, the Marquis de Conti and the Comte de Soissons, who, although Catholics, had been persuaded to cast in their lot with their relatives. Then they turned southwards, with the intention of concentrating all their troops in Gascony, and afterwards marching towards Berry, to effect their junction with a German force which was advancing to their assistance.[117] They were closely followed by a royal army under the Duc de Joyeuse, while another Catholic force under Matignon advanced against them from Guienne. To prevent the junction of Joyeuse and Matignon, the King of Navarre decided to give battle to the former in the plain before Coutras, on the borders of Saintonge and Périgord. The Catholics had a considerable advantage in point of numbers; but Henri’s army was almost entirely composed of veterans, and he was confident of success. As his officers were hastening to their posts, he stopped his cousins and exclaimed: “Gentlemen, I have only one thing to say to you: remember that you are of the House of Bourbon. Vive Dieu! I will show you that I am its head!” “And we will show you that we are good cadets,” replied Condé.
Henri’s confidence was justified; in less than an hour the Catholic army was completely routed, Joyeuse killed, and all the artillery, standards and baggage taken. It was the first victory in the open field which the Protestants had gained in twenty-five years of civil war, and stamped the King of Navarre as a bold and successful general.
Condé greatly distinguished himself, and, though his armour was hacked almost to pieces, he escaped unwounded from the battle itself. But in the pursuit he was not so fortunate. One of the bravest captains of the royal army, d’Espinay Saint-Luc, who had gallantly defended Brouage against the Huguenots in the preceding year, finding that his horse was too exhausted to carry him out of the field, resolved to do something to distinguish himself ere he surrendered. Having descried Condé almost isolated in the middle of the plain, he laid his lance in rest and charged him so furiously that both horse and man went down. Saint-Luc immediately dismounted, extricated the prince from his fallen steed, and tendered him his gauntlet, saying: “Monseigneur, Saint-Luc surrenders to you; do not refuse him.”