The morning of June 27, 1570, opened bright and clear, and we looked forward with hope, if not exactly with confidence, to the approaching battle. The enemy were nearly three to one, but, as Roger had said, our men were all picked troops, hardy, resolute fellows, filled with intense zeal, and fighting for what they believed to be right.
They greeted Coligny with deafening cheers, when, after breakfast, and our simple morning service, he rode along the lines, accompanied by Henry of Bearn and the young Condé. These gallant youths each commanded a regiment, and their flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes told how ardently they burned to distinguish themselves.
"There are the enemy, my lads," said Coligny, in his grave, measured tones, "and we must beat them. It is our last chance. If we fail, the Cause is lost, and we shall find no mercy. If we run away, we shall be cut down, for there is no place of shelter. We must win the battle, or die on the field."
"We will!" they cried, and there was a ring in their voices that spoke of an iron determination to succeed.
"And we," said young Henry of Bearn, "will die with you. Not one of your leaders will leave the field except as a victor. It is victory or death for all of us."
At these brave words the cheering broke out afresh, and my comrade, turning to me, exclaimed, "The battle is won already! Those fellows will never retreat."
They were, indeed, in fine fettle, but it was setting them a desperate task to oppose nearly three times their number!
The marshal began the attack with a cavalry charge, but, as the horsemen galloped forward, a body of arquebusiers posted in a ditch discharged such a stinging fire that our opponents wheeled round and rode hurriedly back to shelter.
"Well done!" cried Felix; "we have drawn first blood."
They tried again with the same result, and then a strong body of infantry was pushed forward. But the arquebusiers clung firmly to their post, and presently young Condé, sweeping round unexpectedly at the head of his regiment, charged and broke the hostile infantry. It was a daring charge, and we waved our swords and cheered, as the victorious horsemen rode proudly back.