Quentin Durward

by Walter Scott

“It would be a right well adapted title, friend Charles,” said Le Glorieux, “considering that a woman is the reward of the most valiant.”

“Well spoken, Sagacity,” said Louis. “Cousin, good night, I will go arm me.—By the way, what if I win the Countess with mine own hand?

“Your Majesty,” said the Duke, in an altered tone of voice, “must then become a true Fleming.”

“I cannot,” answered Louis, in a tone of the most sincere confidence, “be more so than I am already, could I but bring you, my dear cousin, to believe it.”

The Duke only replied by wishing the King good night in a tone resembling the snort of a shy horse, starting from the caress of the rider when he is about to mount, and is soothing him to stand still.

“I could pardon all his duplicity,” said the Duke to Crevecoeur, “but cannot forgive his supposing me capable of the gross folly of being duped by his professions.”

Louis, too, had his confidences with Oliver le Dain, when he returned to his own quarters. “This,” he said, “is such a mixture of shrewdness and simplicity, that I know not what to make of him. Pasques dieu! think of his unpardonable folly in bringing out honest De la Marck's plan of a sally before the face of Burgundy, Crevecoeur, and all of them, instead of rounding it in my ear, and giving me at least the choice of abetting or defeating it!”

“It is better as it is, Sire,” said Oliver; “there are many in your present train who would scruple to assail Burgundy undefied, or to ally themselves with De la Marck.”

“Thou art right, Oliver. Such fools there are in the world, and we have no time to reconcile their scruples by a little dose of self interest. We must be true men, Oliver, and good allies of Burgundy, for this night at least—time may give us a chance of a better game. Go, tell no man to unarm himself; and let them shoot, in case of necessity, as sharply on those who cry France and St. Denis! as if they cried Hell and Satan! I will myself sleep in my armour. Let Crawford place Quentin Durward on the extreme point of our line of sentinels, next to the city. Let him e'en have the first benefit of the sally which he has announced to us—if his luck bear him out, it is the better for him. But take an especial care of Martius Galeotti, and see he remain in the rear, in a place of the most absolute safety—he is even but too venturous, and, like a fool, would be both swordsman and philosopher. See to these things, Oliver, and good night.—Our Lady of Clery, and Monseigneur St. Martin of Tours, be gracious to my slumbers!”

[The Duke of Burgundy, full of resentment for the usage which the Bishop had received from the people of Liege (whose death, as already noticed, did not take place for some years after), and knowing that the walls of the town had not been repaired since they were breached by himself after the battle of Saint Tron, advanced recklessly to their chastisement. His commanders shared his presumptuous confidence: for the advanced guard of his army, under the Marechal of Burgundy, and Seigneur D'Hymbercourt, rushed upon one of the suburbs, without waiting for the rest of their army, which, commanded by the Duke in person, remained about seven or eight leagues in the rear. The night was closing, and, as the Burgundian troops observed no discipline, they were exposed to a sudden attack from a party of the citizens commanded by Jean de Vilde, who, assaulting them in the front and rear, threw them into great disorder, and killed more than eight hundred men, of whom one hundred were men at arms. When Charles and the King of France came up, they took up their quarters in two villas situated near to the wall of the city. In the two or three days which followed, Louis was distinguished for the quiet and regulated composure with which he pressed the siege, and provided for defence in case of sallies; while the Duke of Burgundy, no way deficient in courage, and who showed the rashness and want of order which was his principal characteristic, seemed also extremely suspicious that the King would desert him and join with the Liegeois. They lay before the town for five or six days, and at length fixed the 30th of October, 1468, for a general storm. The citizens, who had probably information of their intent, resolved to prevent their purpose and determined on anticipating it by a desperate sally through the breaches in their walls. They placed at their head six hundred of the men of the little territory of Fraudemont, belonging to the Bishopric of Liege, and reckoned the most valiant of their troops. They burst out of the town on a sudden, surprised the Duke of Burgundy's quarters, ere his guards could put on their armour, which they had laid off to enjoy some repose before the assault. The King of France's lodgings were also attacked and endangered. A great confusion ensued, augmented incalculably by the mutual jealousy and suspicions of the French and Burgundians. The people of Liege were, however, unable to maintain their hardy enterprise, when the men at arms of the king and Duke began to recover from their confusion, and were finally forced to retire within their walls, after narrowly missing the chance of surprising both King Louis and the Duke of Burgundy, the most powerful princes of their time. At daybreak the storm took place, as had been originally intended, and the citizens, disheartened and fatigued by the nocturnal sally, did not make so much resistance as was expected. Liege was taken and miserably pillaged, without regard to sex or age, things sacred or things profane. These particulars are fully related by Comines in his Memoires, liv. ii, chap. 11, 12, 13, and do not differ much from the account of the same events given in the text. S.]