Henry of Guise Volume I Part 12

The firm and powerful mind may be affected in its operations by circ.u.mstances, but not in its nature, and the depths of original character remain unchanged from the beginning to the end of life. Even strong feelings in such hearts, like objects cast upon a grand and rapid river, are borne along with the current through all scenes and circ.u.mstances, till with the waters themselves they plunge into the ocean of eternity.

Neither by nature nor by the period of his life was Charles of Montsoreau likely to retain and nourish long any light feelings of disappointment, but such was not the case with deep sorrows or with strong affections. His heart was of that firm and tenacious kind that it lost not readily any thing once strongly impressed upon it. The love of Marie de Clairvaut was one of those things never to be forgotten; the sorrows by which that love had been followed were never to be obliterated from his mind.

In the gay scenes of the sort of second court which the Duke of Guise held for some days in the city of Rheims, Charles of Montsoreau mingled without any apparent grief weighing upon his mind, or any dark and gloomy memory seeming to oppress his spirit. He smiled with those who smiled, he admired all that was fine, and bright, and beautiful; and if he felt for a moment coming over him the deep melancholy with which he had quitted his own home, and which had now concentrated itself in his heart, he struggled against it and banished the outward appearance of it speedily, deriving only from those deeper feelings which lay concealed within, that degree of indifference towards the pleasures and amus.e.m.e.nts of youth which is seldom obtained but by experience. He forgot not Marie de Clairvaut, however--he forgot not the painful task which he had imposed upon himself; but he gladly occupied his immediate thoughts with the objects around him, and remained for some days well pleased himself, and not un-noted by others for his calm and graceful demeanour, amongst all the proud n.o.bles who now surrounded the princely Guise.

At length, however, all his attendants but two, whose wounds promised a tedious convalescence, were sufficiently recovered to enable him to pursue his journey to Logeres; and he set out, with his train increased by six or seven veteran soldiers, whom the Duke spared to him, for the purpose of completing, as rapidly as possible, the discipline and training of his own retainers. As the distance was not far, and the Duke of Guise had given him more than one hint that no time was to be lost, he resolved to accomplish the march in one day; and, setting off early in the morning, approached Logeres towards sunset upon a short spring day.

It was a wild and wooded country, on the borders of the ancient Ardennes, with the scene continually varying in minor points, but never changing the character of rough, solitary nature, which that part of France, and indeed many other parts, at that time displayed.

Here the ground was rocky and mountainous, shooting up into tall hills covered with old woods; there, smooth and even, with the feet of the primeval oaks carpeted with green turf. Then, again, came deep dells, and banks, and ravines, and dingles, so thick that the boar could scarcely force his way through the bushes; and then the trees fell back, and left the wild stream wandering through green meadows, or sporting amongst the ma.s.ses of stone. If a village appeared, it was perched high up above the road, as if afraid of the pa.s.sing strangers; if a cottage, it was nested in the brown wood, and scarcely to be distinguished from the surrounding banks. The air was now as warm as May, and all the sweet things that haunt the first dream of summer had come forth: the birds were tuning their earliest songs; the flowers were gathering round the roots of the trees, and the branches above them were making an effort, though but faint, to cast away the brown cloak of winter, and put on the green garmenture of the spring.

The evening suns.h.i.+ne was clear and smiling. Pouring from under a light cloud, which covered a part of the sky, it streamed in amongst the bolls and branches of the trees; it gilded the green turf, and danced upon the yellow banks: and what between the wild music of the blackbird, and the thrush, and the woodlark, the flowers upon the ground, the balminess of the air, the spring suns.h.i.+ne, and the peaceful scene, Charles of Montsoreau felt his sorrows softened; and though not less deeply melancholy than before, yet owned the influence of that season, which is so near akin to youth and hope, and rode on with a vague, but sweet feeling, that brighter hours might come.

He had spent many a happy youthful day at Logeres; and though he had forgotten much, so that the charm of novelty was not altogether wanting, he remembered enough to make his heart beat with the thrill of memory, while many an object, once familiar to his eye, rose up, as if to greet him on his return. At length, the road pa.s.sing straight over a ridge of rising-ground, showed him his own little village, in the sweet valley below, with the chateau rising on a tall hill that started up from the side of the little town, unconnected with any of the other heights around. The clouds that were in the zenith at that moment were pouring forth a light shower of spring rain; the sun was s.h.i.+ning bright near the edge of the horizon, catching on the weatherc.o.c.ks, and turrets, and windows of the chateau; while spanning over the castle and the village, and wavering on the face of the light grey cloud above was seen the radiant bow of heaven, the pledge of brightness for the days to come.

The young Count, as he paused for a moment to gaze, could hear gay distant voices, borne on the wind, rising up from the village in the valley. It was a cheerful sound; but, more than any thing else, it recalled the former times, and wove between them and the present a tissue of a.s.sociations both sweet and melancholy. He thought of the gallant father, by whose knee he had played in those very scenes in other days; he thought of the mother, whose inheritance those lands had been; he thought of the mutual love and harmony that had subsisted between them all, and how death had taken two, and how disunion had arisen between the two that remained. He thought of all this; and he thought of how--if fate had willed it otherwise--he might have led a happy bride to those glittering towers, have listened with her to the glad voices of the rejoicing peasantry, and have pointed to the suns.h.i.+ne that lit their dwelling, and the rainbow that waved across their sky, as auguries of hope, and happiness, and mutual love. He thought of all this, and how it was all in vain: and the tears filled his eyes, as he rode on towards the dwelling before him.

The two servants, whom he had sent on the day before, had spread the news, and given the probable hour of his coming; the street of the village was thronged with people, in their holy-day attire; the old grey cross, and the rude stone fountain, were decked with flowers; the light-hearted peasantry echoed his name with shouts when he appeared, and greetings and gratulations poured forth upon him: but the heart of the young Count of Logeres was sad. The face of nature reviving from the wintry cold, the voices of the birds, the eloquence of suns.h.i.+ne and of flowers, had soothed, and calmed, and inspirited his heart; but the rejoicings of fellow-beings like himself--he knew not why, and he was angry to feel it--made him even more melancholy than before.

The elders of the village, conscious of dignity, the Count's own intendant, and the seneschal of his lands, came forward to greet him, and conduct him on his way, while Gondrin lingered behind, shaking hands with many an old friend, and inquiring after many an old acquaintance, vaunting the high deeds and n.o.ble qualities of his lord, and gladdening the hearts of the villagers with the promise of great doings at Logeres.

Such was Charles of Montsoreau's arrival on his own estates; but the aspect of the interior of his dwelling again recalled bitter feelings and manifold regrets. But we must pa.s.s over such things, and merely notice briefly what followed after his arrival. Immediate inquiry showed him a state of things which few lords who absent themselves long from their own lands can ever hope to find:--his tenantry, his va.s.sals, were in general contented and happy; no one had been pressed hard upon by his officers in his absence; no one brought forward any accusation of extortion or oppression; and though there were many who had their little pet.i.tion to present, or their request to make for the future, there was none who found occasion to complain of the past. At the same time, he found that considerable sums, and a considerable quant.i.ty of produce, had acc.u.mulated for his own use; that there were large woods, the trees of which required to be thinned; that the wool of many years yet remained to be sold; that some distant mines had poured unexpected wealth into his coffers; and that, in fact, great riches, which seemed still greater to an inexperienced eye, were immediately at his command.

The secret of all this was, that those left in authority behind him were all old tried and attached servants of his mother's house; and the feudal system had that advantage at least, if it had no other, that it created an ident.i.ty of interests between a lord and his servants, which nothing but blindness and folly could break through on either part.

On speaking with the old seneschal in regard to the military capacity and disposition of the people, the old man smiled at the question if he could raise a hundred strong troopers within the ensuing month.

"The ringing, sir, of the old ban-cloque," he said, "which, thank G.o.d, I have heard but once in my day, would bring double the number of well-armed lads round your gate in an hour. They are only angry because, in all the feuds that have lately fallen out, I would never let them go to join either one party or another, if I could help it.

Your own orders upon that head were strict; and I certainly thought it very wise, as long as they judged fit to leave us at peace here, to avoid all occasion of bringing feuds upon ourselves. Some of the young men stole away, indeed, whether I would or not, and took service with the good Duke of Guise against the reiters. They have almost all come back now; but the tales they bring of battles here and there, and driving the Germans out of France like sheep, are not likely to make those that remained more fond of home."

"I have no wish," replied the Count, "to drain the place of its peasantry, good seneschal. A hundred men will be enough for my purpose, and of those, none but such as are willing. I would rather, of course, have those who have served already, if they are inclined to serve again under their own lord's banner. And now let this be arranged with all speed, for I have promised the Duke of Guise not to delay a day longer than necessary."

No delay or obstruction of any kind was met with by the young Count in his proceedings. Though neither very populous nor very productive, except in wood and pasture, his territories were very extensive; and no sooner were his wishes known, than many more volunteers flocked in to serve beneath his banner than he was willing to receive. With the old soldiers who accompanied him, and the aid of such of his peasantry as had served before, whatever was wanting to the discipline of the rest was soon accomplished. The providing them with arms and horses occupied a some--what longer time; but every thing was in active preparation, when, at the expiration of about a fortnight, a courier from the Duke of Guise arrived at Logeres, bearing a letter dated from Soissons, and addressed to the young Count.

"I fear," the letter said, "that this will not find you in such a state of preparation as to enable you to join me at once, at the little town of Gonnesse, with all the men you promised. If you could, however, advance at once towards that place, with whatever men you can command at the moment, you might render the greatest of services to Henry of Guise.

"It would be as well," he continued in a postscript, "if you could cross the Aisne. My presence is required, with all speed, in the neighbourhood of Paris. I have not fifty men with me; and, notwithstanding the defeat of Auneau, I hear that a strong band of reiters has been seen in the neighbourhood of La Ferte sous Jouarre.

If you can set off before night to-morrow, send me tidings that such is the case by the messenger who bears this letter; but do not go farther than Montigny before you hear more. G.o.d have you in his good keeping.

"Henry of Guise."

The consultation of Charles of Montsoreau with his seneschal was but short. He well knew that the field is the place to make good soldiers, and that but little more preparation was needful. He therefore caused his band to pa.s.s before the courier of the duke, and bade him tell that Prince what he saw, directing him to add, that he would, on the following day, make his first march towards La Ferte with fifty men; and that, in four days more, the rest would follow, if by any possibility their arms could be prepared by that time. With this message he mounted him afresh, and sent him back to Soissons.

A night of bustle and preparation succeeded, which left little time for that indulgence of calm thought during which the heart broods over its own griefs, and but increases them by contemplation. The first day's march was performed without danger or difficulty; and, not a little to the satisfaction of Charles of Montsoreau, the soldiers whom he had raised, being bred amongst a rural population, demeaned themselves peaceably and orderly amongst the inhabitants of the village where they halted for the night, so that no complaint was heard in the morning; and when they departed, many a villager was seen shaking hands with, and bidding G.o.d speed, the acquaintance of the evening before.

On the second day's march, which brought them to Grisolles, rumours and reports of the band of reiters which the Duke of Guise had mentioned began to reach their ears. The peasantry showed every sign of rejoicing on their appearance; and as they rode through the various villages, the young Count's horse was often surrounded by the peasantry, giving him this report or that, and expressing a hope that he had come to deliver them from the marauding strangers. On the third day's march towards Montigny, more accurate information was obtained concerning the real position and proceedings of the band of German adventurers, who were represented as lying further down towards the Marne, in the woods and hamlets about Gland and La Fern, intercepting the pa.s.sengers on the roads between Chateau Thierry, Epernay, and La Ferte: the lower part of which latter town they were said to have attacked and plundered. Manifold were the entreaties now addressed to Charles of Montsoreau by the wealthy farmers and proprietors of that rich tract of country to go at once against the marauders, and drive them across the Marne. But he adhered firmly to his resolution of obeying the Duke's orders; and after halting for some hours to refresh his horses and men at Gandelu, he again began his march towards three o'clock in the evening, expecting to arrive at Montigny before nightfall.

On the whole of the road he had received no greater service from any one than from the boy Ignati, whose light weight and arms did not fatigue his horse so much as those of the other hors.e.m.e.n, and who was constantly riding hither and thither through the country obtaining intelligence, and bringing it rapidly to the young Count. He had left the little village of Gandelu about a quarter of an hour before the rest of the troop, and was not seen again for nearly an hour and a half after it had recommenced its march. The Count had asked for him more than once, and had become somewhat apprehensive regarding him, when, as they were pa.s.sing through the wood of Ampon, his anxiety regarding the boy was not diminished by hearing a discharge of fire-arms at some distance, but apparently in advance. He was relieved on Ignati's account, however, in a moment after, by seeing him coming at full speed through the wood in apparent excitement and alarm.

"Quick! quick, my Lord!" he cried: "down in the meadow there, the Schwartz reiters have attacked a gallant little band just crossing a small stream, and are driving them back towards the Marne. I saw some ladies in a carriage, too; and they must have fallen by this time into the hands of the enemy."

No further inducement was wanting to Charles of Montsoreau. Giving orders to quicken his men's pace, he himself advanced at still greater speed, till he reached the point where the road issued forth from the wood upon the meadow, where he had at once before him, at the distance of scarcely three hundred yards, the whole scene which the boy had described, though it was, of course, somewhat changed in aspect during the time which had since elapsed.

On the bank of the small stream which, flowing through a slight hollow in the meadow, proceeded towards the Marne, was seen a party of some thirty or forty hors.e.m.e.n, the greater part of them well armed, making a gallant but ineffectual stand against a body of reiters nearly double their number, which charged them on every side, and seemed likely to overpower them in a few minutes. That, however, which struck Charles of Montsoreau the most, was to see, in the very front of the party who opposed the reiters, a man dressed in a clerical habit, who seemed, with the utmost coolness, skill, and determination, to be directing the movements of those around him, for the purpose of extricating a heavy carriage which was embarra.s.sed in the bed of the rivulet.

The forms of the reiters pa.s.sing here and there obscured the view of his person from time to time; but Charles of Montsoreau felt sure that his eyes could not deceive him, when they told him that there, in the midst of the fight, was the form of his old preceptor, the Abbe de Boisguerin. A moment after, he caught sight of his brother also, and prepared, without the loss of an instant, to extricate the whole party from their perilous situation.

The numbers which he brought were hardly sufficient to make his band, even when united with that of his brother, equal numerically to that of the reiters. But he knew that there was much in surprise; and, though he did not exactly despise his enemy, yet he by no means looked upon each reiter as a match for one of his own men at arms. His troopers had followed him at all speed; and, the moment they came up, his orders were given, the lances levelled, the spurs struck into every horse's sides, and down the gentle slope they went, against the flank of the enemy, with a speed and determination that proved for the moment quite irresistible. The commander of the foreigners had scarcely time to wheel a part of his force to receive the charge of this new adversary, before the troops of Logeres were upon him, and, in a moment, he was driven down the stream for nearly fifty yards.

But the marauders had one great advantage over ordinary troops.

Accustomed to fight in small parties, and even hand to hand, they were fully as much, if not more, in their element when their ranks were broken than when they were in a compact ma.s.s, and Charles of Montsoreau now found that the success of his first onset by no means dispirited them; but that, superior in numbers to his own soldiery, they met his troopers man to man, and that a body was even detached to pursue the carriage, which by this time had been extricated; while neither his brother nor the Abbe de Boisguerin, embarra.s.sed in protecting the unarmed persons of their own party, thought it needful to give him the slightest a.s.sistance in his contention with the reiters.

Under these circ.u.mstances, the only thing that appeared to be left for him to do, was to keep his men in the most perfect order, and fall gradually back, covering his brother's band, and sending to demand his co-operation for their mutual benefit. The reiters, however, in the mean time, made every effort to frustrate this purpose, which they at once divined, and by repeated charges endeavoured to break his line, and force him to fight after their own manner. In pursuing this plan, however, they committed the oversight of making a part of their body cross the stream in order to take him on the flank.

With a quickness of perception, which he generally displayed in times of difficulty and danger, he had remarked, even while in the act of charging the enemy, that the stream higher up grew deeper, and the banks more steep. He now saw that, by falling back a little farther than he had at first intended, he could deal with the Germans in separate bodies, and in all probability rout them band by band.

To do so, however, obliged him to leave his brother's party, the carriage, and those whom he knew it contained, to struggle una.s.sisted with the little force which had been detached from the reiters, as well as they might, and for a moment he remained in a state of suspense which almost lost him the advantage. The hour, however, was late; the shades of evening were beginning to fall: one look to the other side of the field showed him that the first attack of the reiters on his brother's party had been repulsed, apparently with considerable loss, and he accordingly took his resolution, and gave orders to retreat slowly up the stream, preparing his men, however, to charge again the moment that he found it expedient so to do.

The reiters, thinking him defeated and intimidated, pursued him fiercely, and those on the right bank of the stream galloped quickly on to cut him off from a retreat by the high road. But the others immediately in front of him were surprised, and somewhat astounded, to find that as soon as he perceived the stream was deep enough, and the bank was high enough--if not to prevent the other body of reiters from crossing, at all events to embarra.s.s and to delay them--the order was given to the French troopers to charge, and the young Count and his band came down upon them with a shock which scattered them before him in an instant.

He was now, in turn, superior to that party in numbers, and knowing that not a moment was to be lost, he exerted every energy of mind and body. With his own hand he struck the commander from his horse, and urging on his men with all speed, drove a number of the scattered parties over the banks into the stream. Some escaped unhurt to the other side, but in many instances the horses fell, and rolled over into the water with their riders; and in the mean time terrible havoc was going on amongst those who remained upon the bank.

The pistols and musketoons of the German soldiery had been discharged in the first contest with his brother; but the troops of Logeres, charging with the lance, had still their fire-arms loaded: and seeing that the struggle with the sword might be protracted till the other party came up, the young commander shouted loudly to his men to use their fire-arms. His voice was heard even in the midst of the strife; and now mingled as the two parties were with each other, the effect of the pistol was terrible. A number of the enemy were killed and thrown from their horses on the spot, a number were wounded, and unable to continue the conflict, and the rest, seized with panic, were flying amain, when the other band, seeing the error that had been committed, endeavoured to repair it by crossing the stream and attacking Charles of Montsoreau in the rear.

Though they succeeded in their first object, it was with difficulty and in disorder, some choosing one place, some, not liking to venture too far, seeking a safer pa.s.sage; and heavily armed as were both horses and men, the task was certainly one of great danger. In the midst of the strife which he was carrying on, the young Count had not failed to watch eagerly, from time to time, the movements of the party on the other bank.

The body immediately opposed to him was by this time completely routed, and in full flight; and wheeling his men to encounter the other, he calmly brought them once more into good order, and led them to the charge.

But the leader of the enemy in that part of the field seeing that he had come too late, and that his men were in no condition to protract the struggle with success, was wise enough not to attempt to play out a losing game. Giving orders for instant retreat, he kept a firm face to his adversary, till his men had recovered from the disorder of crossing the water, and then marched firmly up the hill, facing round every two or three minutes to receive the charge of the French troopers, and not suffering his pace to be hurried, though he lost several men as he went.

The sight, however, of a group of peasantry, watching the strife from a part of the road above, seemed to strike the reiters, who probably mistook them for a fresh band of soldiers, with panic and dismay.

Their leader lost all command over them; and though he was seen in vain endeavouring to rally them, and keep them in their ranks, they fled down the road at full speed, pursued by Charles of Montsoreau and his band for some time, till the coming on of night rendered it useless to protract the chase any farther.

The young officer then caused the recall to be sounded, and turned his bridle rein towards the field where the skirmish had taken place, in order both to ascertain what was the amount of his own loss, and to give a.s.sistance to the wounded. He found a number of peasants on the field; and though in all instances they were giving the tenderest care and attention to the wounded troopers of Logeres, there was too good reason to suspect that the knife of the boor had been employed without mercy to end the course of any of the wounded Germans who had fallen into their hands. Only two were found alive upon the field, and it is probable that they owed their lives to the return of Charles of Montsoreau.

His own loss in persons actually killed was very slight, but a number were severely wounded; and in order to gain some a.s.sistance for these poor men, it was necessary, of course, to proceed to the nearest town.

On inquiring what that was, the peasantry replied that none was nearer than La Ferte sous Jouarre, and thither the young Count bent his steps, as soon as some litters and carriages could be procured to bear the wounded men.

CHAP. XIII.

Night had fallen heavily over the world, ere Charles of Montsoreau and his party approached the town of La Ferte: but the moon was coming out heavily from behind the clouds, and cast a silvery radiance over all that part of the sky which lay behind the heights of Jouarre, throwing out a part of the towers and pinnacles of the old abbey in clear relief, as they rose above the shoulder of the hill.

But there were other lights in the prospect of a different hue, which not a little puzzled Charles of Montsoreau, as he rode on at the head of his men. What seemed to be torches, by the red and heavy glare they gave, were seen moving about fitfully amongst the banks and vineyards on the heights, and, in a minute or two after, a horseman pa.s.sed the young Count at full speed.