On the other hand, Orange does what he can to awake the zeal of Antwerp, but, since Alençon’s disastrous attempt, his influence has fallen low, and there is a suspicion abroad that he is more anxious for his own personal advantage than for the welfare of his country. Some say he has crossed over to Zealand, to make all safe in that quarter, and transact some pressing business.
The fall of Dunkirk has been followed by the surrender of Nieuport, St. Winoc, and other neighbouring towns, so that they are in hopes of taking Bruges and Ypres. Thus affairs in the Netherlands are mending;[163] and possibly a little skilful management would induce the people to come to terms. I was expecting a man from Brabant, who would have given me accurate information on all these points, but I am afraid his return will be delayed by the capture of Dunkirk, which has greatly added to the difficulties of a sea passage.
There was in Paris a royal messenger, famous for his skill in conveying to their destination the orders and despatches of his master; nor was there any one in whose loyalty and discretion the King placed greater confidence. His Majesty had ordered him to cross the Alps with an autograph letter, filling two sheets, to the Duke of Joyeuse. He had not gone far before he fell in with four horsemen, who were dogging his path; they stabbed him in several places, and carried off the King’s letter; by this means, it is supposed, several important secrets have been discovered by the opponents of the Court. Whether it was for this reason or not I cannot say, but the King immediately hurried back to Paris, instead of accompanying his wife to Bourbon-les-bains, as he had intended. However, in a few days he will join her at the baths, going on to Lyons, but what he intends to do when he gets there is a secret to most people.
For myself, I am inclined to think that he wishes to see whether his presence on the spot will enable him to turn Montmorency[164] out of the government of Languedoc, and place the Duke of Joyeuse, or one of his other minions, in possession.
I am not, I say, certain that he will give it to the Duke of Joyeuse, since a most handsome provision has been made for him in the governorship of Normandy, which was refused to Alençon himself. But perhaps ere long we shall learn the truth.
Every one in Paris is talking of the news that Don Antonio’s new fleet has reached the Azores in safety. The commander is Monsieur de Chattes, a knight of Malta, and also a relation of the Duke of Joyeuse, Admiral of France.
Some time ago one St. Hilaire entered your Majesty’s service as a gentleman cadet. I understand he is now serving in Hungary. This young gentleman’s eldest brother is dead, and, if I mistake not, he stands next in succession to the estate; there are several brothers, and, if he is not present when the property is divided, there is danger of his not getting his proper share; as the loss to him might be considerable, his friends have come to the conclusion that he ought to be summoned home, and have requested me to write to your Majesty, and ask for an honourable discharge, which request I hereby comply with. It will be a good occasion for your Imperial Majesty to exercise your kindness by graciously giving him leave of absence for the transaction of private business.
The plague is breaking out afresh in several places, the wind being unusually steady, and never shifting, unless it be from south to west.
As to the Greek books, I most humbly repeat my request that your Majesty would keep the matter in mind.
There was lately in Paris a gentleman of good family, who was a notorious duellist. His name was the Baron de Viteaux,[165] and he had attained some celebrity by the bold and successful way in which he had killed sundry gentlemen with whom he had differences. The son of one of his victims was anxious to avenge his father’s death; he had also another motive, for having lately been discovered in a plot against the Baron’s life,[166] he knew that unless he killed him his doom was sealed. Accordingly he determined to take a decided course; so last Sunday he invited the Baron to measure swords with him in a field near Paris; the arrangement was that they should have in attendance only one servant apiece, and a gentleman of rank, the common friend of both parties, to act as umpire and marshal of the lists; the duel to be with sword and dagger, no other weapon being allowed, and only to be terminated when one of the combatants should have fallen. The Baron accepted the challenge; as soon as they met he ran his opponent through the arm and stretched him on the ground; not liking to strike him when he was down, he told him to get up. This act of kindness cost him dear, for his opponent, in no way daunted by his wound, but burning to avenge his fall, with one vigorous and skilful thrust, ran the Baron through the heart; then, as he lay dying on the ground, he stabbed him again and again, and thus rewarded his folly in sparing an antagonist whose arm still held a sword. Though scarcely twenty-one, the young man had for years been devoting himself to the art of fencing, with a view to this meeting. Thus died the famous Baron, who was looked on here as a second Mars, and is thought to have frightened the King[167] more than once. His end was like that of Montal[168] and Bussy,[169] both of whom died as they deserved to die. ‘Aspiciunt oculis superi mortalia justis.’ The victor is not yet out of danger. He received two wounds, one, as I mentioned, in his arm, and the other in his thigh. Even if he recovers, another duel awaits him, as he will be challenged by a relation of the late Baron, who is well qualified to avenge his death.