Lord Montagu's Page: An Historical Romance

by G. P. R. James

  CHAPTER XXXV.

  The writers of biography and auto- or pseudo-autobiography whoflourished and were so abundant in France during the seventeenth andeighteenth centuries made a great mistake by adding to the simplenarrative a great number of romantic incidents which there is muchreason to believe had no foundation in fact. Putting aside the moralityor immorality of lying, they committed an artistic blunder. History isthe best romance. Just in as much as a painter or sculptor can approachto the realities of the human form, so is the grace and interest of hisdesign. Just in as much as a writer can approach to the truth ofhistory, telling all the truth minutely, so is the romantic interest ofhis book,--only history is so very romantic that no one who writes itcompletely can obtain credence. Let us see whether the reader willbelieve a morsel of true history when it appears under the character ofromance.

  The fact of the capture of Lord Montagu spread rapidly through allFrance. Couriers carried it to Villeroy and Rochelle; rumor brought itrapidly to Paris; and thence, with concentric ripples, the knowledge wascarried far and wide to all who were unwise enough to meddle withpolitics in those days.

  The effect was very different upon different people. The great cardinalrejoiced at the success of his well-laid schemes; for he had long known,and watched with a keen eye, the negotiations which had been intrustedto the English nobleman. Perhaps, however, he rejoiced more at the holdwhich he doubted not the seized papers of the diplomatist would give himupon his own enemies in France itself than upon the means afforded offrustrating all the combinations which had been effected abroad againsthis country. His mighty mind feared foreign enemies much less thansecret cabal at home. In fact, he knew that the fortress of his powerwas strong enough to resist a cannonade but might not be proof against amine.

  Nor was the spirit of the king dissatisfied to learn that Buckingham'sagent had fallen into his power, with all his correspondence,compromising probably one-third of the nobility of France. We have nothad time, we shall not have space, to dwell upon the character of Louis,though it well merits a treatise entirely to itself. His sports in youthhad been cruel, his amusements low. His father had called him "thatwicked boy;" and, though he possessed all that father's courage and muchof his military skill, he had none of his kindness of heart, hisclemency, or his gentleness. It may be that he did not feel pleasure inthe shedding of blood, but it is certain that he never objected to shedit; and when his best friends and greatest favorites were condemned,often by unlawful tribunals, he consented to their death with coolnessor a jest.

  But there was one in France who heard of Lord Montagu's capture withvery different feelings. Anne of Austria, the unhappy queen, thechildless wife of the coldest-hearted monarch that ever lived, receivedthe tidings with terror and confusion. It might be that the tales theytell of certain secret communications between her and the brilliant Dukeof Buckingham were founded in truth. It might be that she had connivedat schemes for the overthrow of a minister who persecuted her. But it isbeyond doubt that she held dangerous correspondence with her own familyin Spain, that Buckingham had been negotiating with that court, and thatMontagu was his most confidential emissary. What letters might not beupon his person at the moment of his arrest?--what papers which mightgive a complete triumph to her enemies? and she had many. Happily,however, she had many friends, sincere, devoted, fearless. At the verymoment when she was in the most profound agony of terror, one of thesewas near at hand.

  It is well known that gentlemen of good family but small means were inthose days proud to accept even what we consider menial offices in thehousehold of princes or great men. A youth of the name of Laporte hadbeen attached to the service of Anne of Austria, in the humble capacityof valet-de-chambre, almost ever since her entrance into France. In oneof the many intrigues of the court he had incurred the anger of theking, but had been permitted to enter a corps of cavalry, known as theGens d'armes de la Reine, as ensign. This corps, at the time of thecapture of Lord Montagu, was serving on the frontiers of Lorraine, andwas one of the first to be called toward the Chateau of Coiffy to formpart of the escort of the noble prisoner on his way to Paris. ButLaporte was not with his regiment. He was, when the news arrived, onleave of absence in the capital, and his presence had been known to theyoung queen. At midnight, and in disguise, he was brought to the Louvre;and Anne of Austria at once laid open to her attached servant theterrible apprehensions under which she suffered. To ascertain if hername was at all compromised in the correspondence of Lord Montagu was ofimmediate importance. It was, in fact, an affair of life and death. Butto do so seemed utterly hopeless. All the papers of the prisoner were inthe hands of his captors, and the utmost secrecy was maintained as totheir contents. Laporte, however, undertook the difficult task, and onthe following day set out to rejoin his regiment at Coiffy. The way waslong, and he did not reach the castle till the prisoner and his escortwere already on the march to Paris; but he was near enough to witnessthe absurd gasconade of M. de Bourbonne, who, having gathered together avery considerable force, notified the Duke of Lorraine of the day andhour when he would commence his journey. A cannon was fired from thebattlements to give notice that the French troops were in motion; andthe whole body remained in battle-array for about half an hour, to givethe duke, Monsieur de Bourbonne said, an opportunity of rescuing theprisoner if he could. When this comedy had been enacted, the worthyLaporte joined his regiment and fell into the ranks, resolved, as hestates, to watch for some happy accident which might enable him tocommunicate with the captive. Fortune favored him sooner than heexpected, and, indeed, beyond all expectation. In the midst of thetroops, consisting of some nine hundred horse, rode the Counts ofBourbonne and Boulogne, with Lord Montagu between them, treated withevery mark of profound respect, but disarmed, without spurs, and mountedon a small horse not very capable of competing in speed with those whichsurrounded him. Laporte marked all this well; but a much more easy andsecure mode of communicating with the English nobleman than any effortin the open field soon presented itself. The Baron de Ponthieu, agentleman of considerable distinction, was one of the officers ofLaporte's company of Gens d'armes de la Reine; and, as soon as he saw aman whose leave of absence did not expire for some weeks suddenly rejoinhis regiment, an instant suspicion crossed his mind that his inferiorofficer had some important object in view. The baron was one of the mostdevoted partisans of the queen. He knew that Laporte was a bird of thesame color, and also that he came straight from Paris. Quick andclear-sighted, Ponthieu, it appears, in his conjectures came near thereal object of his companion-in-arms. But he had the rare gift ofdiscretion; and, after having sounded Laporte and found that he wasunwilling to trust his dangerous secret even to him, he contentedhimself with losing no occasion to give facilities for communicationbetween the queen's attendant and the English prisoner.

  What marks the age as especially an age of faction is the fact that menusually sensitive on the point of honor had not the slightest scruple inviolating their most sacred obligations and most solemn oaths in favorof the party to which they belonged. No shame, no remorse, attached tosuch acts; but, on the contrary, they were looked upon, both by actorsand observers, as proofs of chivalrous daring and skilful diplomacy.Ponthieu and Laporte, though serving in what was called the "Queen'sGens d'armes," were the soldiers of the king, bound by solemn oaths toobey and serve him against all and every one; but they had not the leasthesitation in betraying their trust and violating their promise when itwas to assist the queen or thwart the minister. It was not dishonest ordisloyal in their eyes: it was honorable and chivalrous. There is toomuch of this in the world even now; but there was much more then, andthe wars of the Fronde both brought the abuse to its height and in somedegree wrought its cure.

  Monsieur de Bourbonne had received secret instructions to treat LordMontagu with every sort of consideration, while taking all measures toprevent his escape; and at each halt upon the long march the officers ofthe various corps which escorted him were invited to bear him companyduring the evening, and va
rious devices were formed for amusing theprisoner. Ponthieu, divining, as I have said, Laporte's object, invitedhis young comrade to partake his quarters, which were always near thoseof De Bourbonne, and took care that he should be at all the partiesgiven in the evening for Montagu's entertainment. At the very firstinterview, Montagu, who never forgot a face, remembered having seen theyoung officer when he had visited Paris some years before; and mutuallooks of intelligence conveyed the information that Laporte was notthere without a purpose. Cards were introduced, and the ensign of theQueen's Gens d'armes contrived to slip a pencil across to the captive.On the succeeding night, Laporte sat at the same card-table withMontagu, Monsieur de Bourbonne, and Ponthieu. But in shuffling the packthe young officer let it fall, scattering the cards upon the floor. Hestooped instantly to remedy the effects of his awkwardness. Montagustooped also with an easy grace to assist him; and, before he rose, anote was in his pocket, beseeching him to inform the writer if amongsthis papers there had been any matter which could compromise the queen,and desiring him to be very careful of even mentioning her name.

  On the following evening, Lord Montagu, with a free and unembarrassedair, held out his hand to the young officer when they met, and, withbetter skill than the Signor Morini, contrived to slip into the hand ofLaporte an answer to the note of the preceding night, without being seenby any one.

  It conveyed the joyful news that the queen's name had never beenmentioned in the papers which had fallen into the hands of the captors,and that Montagu himself would rather die than compromise her in anyway.

  Nevertheless, although he knew the anxiety and suspense of his royallady, Laporte did not venture to trust the billet out of his own hands,nor again to quit his regiment to carry the intelligence himself. He wasforced, therefore, to accompany the prisoner's escort by slow marches toParis, and to see Montagu lodged in the Bastille. As soon as that wasdone, however, he found his way secretly to the Louvre, and easilyexplained to Anne of Austria the causes of his delay and the completesuccess of his mission. He tells the story himself; but, with the usualfate of zeal, intelligence, and devotion, his services were but poorlyrewarded, though they were highly praised.