In Kings' Byways

by Stanley John Weyman

  THE TWO PAGES

  (1580)

  Yes, I have seen changes. When I first served at court, whither I wentin the year 1579--seven years after the St. Bartholomew--the Kingreceived all in his bedchamber, and there every evening played primerowith his intimates, until it was time to retire; Rosny and Biron, andthe great men of the day, standing, or sitting on chests round thechamber. If he would be more private he had his cabinet; or, if thematter were of prime importance, he would take his confidants to an openspace in the garden--such as the white-mulberry grove, encircled by thecanal at Fontainebleau; where, posting a Swiss guard who did notunderstand French, at the only bridge that gave access to the place, hecould talk without reserve.

  In those days the court rode, or if sick, went in litters. Coaches wereonly coming into fashion, Henry, who feared nothing else, having soinvincible a distaste for them that he was wont to turn pale if thecoach in which he travelled swayed more than usual. Ladies, the Queen'smother and her suite excepted, rode sideways on pads, their feetsupported by a little board; and side-saddles were rare. At greatbanquets the fairest and noblest served the tables. We dined at ten inthe country and eleven in Paris; instead of at noon, as is the customnow.

  When the King lay alone, his favourite pages took it by turns to sleepat his feet; the page on duty using a low truckle bed that in thedaytime fitted under the King's bed, and at night was drawn out. Notseldom, however, and more often if the times were troublous, he wouldinvite one of his councillors to share his couch, and talk the nightthrough with him; a course which in these days might seem undignified.Frequently he and the Queen received favourite courtiers before theyleft their beds; particularly on New Year's morning it was the duty ofthe Finance Minister to wait on them, and awaken them with a present ofmedals struck for the purpose.

  And I recall many other changes. But one thing, which some young sparks,with a forwardness neither becoming in them nor respectful to me, haveventured to suggest, even in my presence--that we who lived in the oldwar time were a rougher breed and less dainty and chivalrous than theBuckinghams and Bassompierres of to-day--I roundly deny. On thecontrary, I would have these to know that he who rode in the wars withHenry of Guise--or against him--had for his example not only thehandsomest but the most courtly man of all times; and has nothing tolearn from a set of pert fellows who, unable to acquire the statelycourtesy that becomes a gentleman, are fain to air themselves in adandified-simpering trim of their own, with nought gallant about thembut their ribbons and furbelows.

  That such are stouter than the men of my day, no one dare maintain. Ihave seen Crillon, whom veterans called the brave; and I have talkedwith La Noue of the Iron Arm; for the rest, I can tell you of one--hewas a boy fourteen years old--known to me in my youth, who had it not inhim to fear.

  He was page, along with me, to the King of Navarre; a year my junior,and my rival. At riding, shooting and fencing he was the better; atpaume and tennis he always won. But naturally, being the elder, I hadthe greater strength, and when the sharp sting of his wit provoked me, Icould drub him, and did so more than once. No extremity of defeat,however, no, nor any severity of punishment could wring from Antoine aword of submission; prostrate, with bleeding face, he was as ready tofly at my throat as before I laid hand on him. And more, though I wasthe senior, he was the life and soul and joy of the ante-chamber; thefirst in mischief, the last in retreat; the first to cry a nick-nameafter a burly priest who chanced to pass us as we lounged at thegates--and the first to be whipped when it turned out that the King hada mind to please the clergy.

  It followed that from the first I viewed him with a strange mixture ofrivalry and affection; ready at one moment to quarrel with him and beathim for a misword, and the next to let him beat me if it pleased him. Atthis time the King of Navarre had his court sometimes at Montauban,sometimes at Nerac; and there were rumours of a war between him and theKing of France; to be clear, it was this year, that in the hope ofmaintaining the peace, the latter's mother, the Queen Catherine, camewith a glittering train of ladies to Nerac, and paid her court to ourKing, and there were ball and pageants and gay doings by day and night.But the Huguenots were not lightly taken in, and under this fair masksuspected treachery, and not without reason; for one night, during aball, Catherine's friends seized a strong town, and but for Henry'sreadiness--who took horse that moment and before daylight had surpriseda town of France to set against it--they would have gained theadvantage. So in the event Catherine did little, no one trusting her,and in the end she returned to Paris wiser than she came; but for thetime the visit lasted the court gaieties continued, and there weremasques and dances, and the thought of war was seemingly far from theminds of all.

  Now in the room which was then the King's Chamber at Montauban, is awindow, at a great height from the ground, a very deep ravine, which isone of the main defences of the city, lying below it. In the adjoiningante-chamber is a similar window, and between the two is a projectingbuttress, and outside the sill of each is a stone ledge a foot wide,which runs round the buttress. I do not know who first thought of it,but one day when the King was absent and we pages were lounging in theroom--which was against the rules, since we should have been in theante-chamber--some one challenged Antoine to walk on the ledge round thebuttress, going out by the one window and returning by the other. I havesaid that the ledge was but a foot wide, the depth below infinite. Itturned me sick only to look down and see the hawks hang and circle inthe gulf. Nevertheless, before any could speak, Antoine was outside thecasement poising himself on the airy ledge; a moment, and with his faceturned inwards to the wall, his slight figure outlined against the sky,he began to edge his way round the buttress.

  I called to him to come back; I expected each moment to see him reel andfall; the others, too, stood staring with uneasy faces; for they had notthought that he would do it. But he did not heed; an instant, and hevanished round the buttress, and still we stood, and no one moved; noone moved, until with a shout he showed himself at the other window, andsprang down into the ante-chamber. His eyes were bright with the triumphof it; his hair waved back from his brow as if the breeze from the gulfstill stirred it. He cried to me to do the feat in my turn, he pointedhis finger at me, dared me, and before them all he called me "Coward!Coward!"

  But I am not ashamed to confess a weakness I share with many men ofundoubted courage--I could never face a great height; and though Iburned with wrath and shame, and raged under his taunts, though I couldhave confronted any other form of death, at his instigation, or Ithought I could, though I even went so far as to leap on the seat withinthe window and stand--and stand irresolute--I stopped there. My headturned, my skin crept. I could not do it. The victory was with Antoine;he whom I had thrashed for some impertinence only the night before, nowheld me up to scorn and drove me from the room with jeers and laughter.

  None of the others had greater courage; none dared do the feat; but Iwas the eldest and the biggest, and the iron entered into my heart. Dayafter day for a week, whenever the chamber was empty, I crept to thewindow and looked down and watched the kites hover and drop, and plumbedthe depth with my eyes. But only, to turn away--sick. I could not do it.Resolve as I might at night, in the morning, on the window ledge, withthe giddy deep below me, I was a coward.

  One evening, however, when the King was supping with M. de Roquelaure,and I believed the chamber to be deserted, I chanced to go to the windowof the ante-chamber after nightfall. I stepped on the seat--that I haddone often before; but this time, looking down, I found that I no longerquailed. The darkness veiled the ravine; to my astonishment I felt noqualms. Moreover, I had had supper, my heart was high; and in a momentit occurred to me that now--now in the dark I could do it, and regain mypride.

  I did not give myself time to think, but went straight out to thegallery, where I found Antoine and two or three others teasing Mathurinethe woman-fool. My entrance was the signal for a taunt. "Ho, Miss WhiteFace! Come to borrow Mathurine's petticoats?" Antoine cried, standingout an
d confronting me. "It is you, is it?"

  "Yes," I answered sharply, meeting his eyes and speaking in a tone I hadnot used for a week. "And if you do not mend your manners, MasterAntoine----"

  "Go round the buttress!" he retorted with a grimace.

  "I will!" I answered. "I will! And then----"

  "You dare not!"

  "Come!" I said; "come, and see! And when I have done it, my friend----"

  I did not finish the sentence, but led the way back to the ante-chamber;assuming a courage which, as a fact, was fast oozing from me. The coldair that met me as I approached the open window sobered me still more;but Antoine's jeers and my companions' incredulity stung me to thenecessary point, and at once I stepped on the ledge, and without givingmyself time to think, turned my face to the wall and began to edgemyself slowly along it; my heart in my mouth, my flesh creeping, as Igradually realized where I was; every nerve in my body strung toquivering point.

  Certainly in the daylight I could not have done it. Even now, when thedepth over which I balanced myself was hidden by the darkness, and I hadonly my fancy to conquer, I trembled, my knees shook, a bat skimming bymy ear almost caused me to fall; I was bathed in perspiration. The depthdrew me; I dared not for my life look into it. Yet I turned the cornerof the buttress in safety, and edged my way along its front, glueingmyself to the wall; and came at last, breathing hard, to the secondcorner, and turned it, and saw with a gasp of relief the lights in thechamber. A moment--a moment more, and I should be safe.

  At that instant I heard something, and cast a wary eye backwards the wayI had come. I saw a shadowy form at my elbow, and I guessed that Antoinewas following me. With a shudder I hastened my steps to avoid him, and Iwas already in the angle formed by the wall and buttress--whence Icould leap down into the chamber--when he called to me.

  "Hist!" he cried softly. "Stop, man! the King is there! He has beenthere all the time, I think."

  I thought it only too likely, for I could see none of our comrades atthe window; and I heard men's deeper voices in the room. To go on,therefore, and show myself was to be punished; and I paused and kneltdown in the angle where the ledge was wider. I recognized the King'svoice, and M. Gourdon's, and that of St. Martin, the captain of theguard; I caught even their words, and presently, in a minute or two, andagainst my will, I had surprised a secret--so great a secret that Itrembled almost as much as I had trembled at the outmost angle of thebuttress, hanging between earth and sky. For they were planning thegreat assault on Cahors; for the first time I heard named those pointsthat are now household words; the walnut grove, and the three gates, andthe bridge, that fame and France will never forget. I heard all--thenight, the hour, the numbers to be engaged; and turned quaking to learnwhat Antoine thought of it. Turned, but neither saw nor addressed him;for he had gone back, and my eye, incautiously cast down, saw far, farbeneath me a torch and a little group of men--at the bottom of the void.I became giddy at this sudden view of the abyss, wavered an instant, andthen with a cry of fear I chose the less pressing danger, and tumbledforward into the room.

  M. de Roquelaure had his point at my throat before I could rise; and Ihad a vision of half a dozen men part risen, of half a dozen startledfaces all glaring at me. Fortunately M. de Rosny knew me and held theother's arm. I was plucked up roughly, and set on my feet before theKing, who alone had kept his seat; and amid a shower of threats I wasbidden to explain my presence.

  "You knave! I wish I had spitted you!" Roquelaure cried, with an oath,when I had done so. "You heard all?"

  "Yes, Monsieur."

  They scowled at me between wrath and chagrin. "Friend Rosny, you were afool," M. de Roquelaure said with grimness.

  "I think I was," the other answered. "But a flogging, a gag, and theblack hole will keep his tongue still as long as is needful."

  Henry laughed. "I think we can do better than that!" he said, with aglance of good nature. "Hark you, my lad; you are big enough to fight.We will trust you, and you shall wear sword for the first time. But ifthe surprise fail, if word of our coming go before us, we shall knowwhom to blame, and you will have to reckon with M. de Rosny."

  I fell on my knees and thanked him with tears; while Rosny and M. St.Martin remonstrated. "Take my word for it, he will blurt it out!" saidthe one; and the other, "You had better deliver him to me, sire."

  "No," Henry said kindly. "I will trust him. He comes of a good stock; ifthe oak bends, what tree shall we trust?"

  "The oak bends fast enough, sire, when it is a sapling," Rosny retorted.

  "In that case you shall apply _your_ sapling!" the King answered,laughing. "Hark ye, my lad, will you be silent?"

  I promised--with tears in my eyes; and with that, and a mind full ofamazement, I was dismissed, and left the presence, a grown man;overjoyed that the greatest scrape of my life had turned out thehappiest; foreseeing honour, and rewards, and already scorning the otherpages as immeasurably beneath me. It was a full minute before I thoughtof Antoine, and the chance that he, too, before he turned back, hadoverheard the King's plan. Then I stood in the passage horrified--myfirst impulse to return and tell the King. It came too late, however,for in the mean time he and M. de Rosny had repaired to the closet, andthe others had withdrawn; and while I stood hesitating, Antoine slippedout of the ante-chamber, and came to me on the stairs.

  His first words went some way towards relieving me; they told me that hehad overheard something but not all; enough to know that the Kingintended to surprise a place of strength, and a few details, but not thename of the place. As soon as I understood this, and that I had nothingto fear from him, I could not hide my triumph. When he declared hisintention of going with the expedition, I laughed at him.

  "You!" I said. "You don't understand. This is not child's play!"

  "And you will not tell me where it is?" he asked, raging.

  "No! Go to your nurse and your pap-boat, child."

  He flew at me at that like a mad cat, and I had to beat him until theblood ran down his face before I could shake him off. Even then, andwhile I thrust him out sobbing, he begged me to tell him--only to tellhim. Nor was that all. Through all the next day he haunted me andpersecuted me, now with prayers and now with threats; following meeverywhere with eyes of such hot longing that I marvelled at theirrepressible spirit that shone in the lad.

  Of course I told him nothing. Yet I was glad when the next day came, andwith it an announcement that Henry would visit M. de Gourdon and liethat night at his house, four miles from Montauban, where the court thenwas. Only eight gentlemen were invited to be of the party, with as manyladies; the troop with a handful of servants riding out of the cityabout five o'clock, and no one the wiser. No one saw anything odd inthe visit, nor in my being chosen to attend the King. But I knew; and Iwas not surprised when we stopped at M. de Gourdon's only to sup, andthen getting to horse, rode through the night and the dusky oak woods,by walled farms and hamlets, and under rustling poplars--rode manyleagues, and forded many streams. The night was hot, it was the month ofJune; and it thundered continually, but with no rain. At this point andthat bands of men joined us, mysteriously, and in silence; until fromthe hill with its bracken and walnut trees, we saw the lights of Cahorsbelow us, and the glimmer of the winding Lot, and heard the bells of thecity tolling midnight.

  By this time, every road adding to our numbers, we were a great company;and how we lay hidden through the early night in the walnut grove thatlooks down on the river all men know; but not the qualms and eagernessthat by turns possessed me as I peered through the leaves at the distantlights, nor the prayer I said that I might not shame my race, nor how myheart beat when Henry, who was that day twenty-seven years old, gave theorder to advance in the voice of one going to a ball. Two men with apetard--then a strange invention--led the way through the gloom,attended by ten picked soldiers. After them came fifty of the King'sguards, and the King with two hundred foot; then the main body of athousand. We had the long bridge with its three gates to pass; andbeyond these obstacles,
a city bitterly hostile, and occupied by agarrison far outnumbering us. Never, indeed, did men enter on a moreforlorn or perilous enterprise.

  I remember to this day how I felt as we advanced through the darkness,and how long it seemed while we waited, huddled and silent, at the headof the bridge, expecting the explosion of the petard, which had beenfixed to the first gate. At length it burst, filling the heavens withflame; before the night closed down again on our pale faces, the leaderswere through the breach and past that gate, and charging madly over thebridge, the leading companies all mingled together.

  I had no fear now. If a friendly hand had not pulled me back, I shouldhave run on to the petard which drove in the second gate. As it was, Ipassed through the second obstacle side by side with the King--but wentno farther. The garrison was awake now, and a withering fire from fiftyarquebuses swept the narrow bridge; those who were not struck stumbledover the dying; the air was filled with groans and cries; a moment andthe very bravest recoiled, and sought safety behind the second gate,where we stood in shelter.

  The moment was critical, for now the whole city was aroused. Shouts oftriumph rose above the exploding of the guns; in every tower bellsjangled noisily, and on the summit of the last gateway on the bridge,which from every loophole and window poured on us a deadly hail ofslugs, a beacon-fire blazed up, turning the black water below us toblood.

  I have said that the moment was critical--for France and for us. For afew seconds all hung back. Then St. Martin sprang forward, and by hisside Captain Robert, who had fixed the first petard. They darted alongthe bridge, but only to fall and lie groaning and helpless halfway over.Henry made a movement as if to follow, but young M. de Rosny held himback by force, while half a dozen soldiers made the attempt. Of thesefour fell at once under the pitiless fire, and two crawled back wounded.It seemed that a man must be more than mortal to pass that space; andwhile one might count twenty no one moved.

  Captain Robert lay scarcely fifteen paces from us, and by his side thehammer, spike, and petard he had carried. He and they were visible inthe glow of ruddy light that poured down on the bridge. Suddenly, whileI stood panting and irresolute, longing, yet not daring--since I sawolder men hang back--suddenly a hand twitched my sleeve, and I turned tofind at my elbow, his hair streaming back from his brow, Antoine! Thelad's face and eyes flashed scorn at me. He waved his hand towards thebridge.

  "Coward!" he cried; and he struck me lightly on the cheek with his hand."Coward! Now follow me, if you dare!"

  And, before any one could stay him, he darted from the shelter of thegateway in which we stood; and raced on to the bridge. I heard a greatshout on our side, and the roar of a volley; but dully only, for,enraged by the blow and the challenge, I followed him--I and a dozenothers. Some fell, but he ran on, and I after him. He snatched up thepetard and the hammer, I the spike. In a moment, as it seemed to me, wewere at the farther gate attaching the engine to it. I held the spike,he hammered it; the smoke and the frowning archway, to some extent,protected us from the fire of those above.

  I often think of those few seconds with the pride and the garrulousnessof an old man. While they lasted we stood alone, separated from ourfriends by the whole length of the third span of the bridge. For a fewseconds only indeed; then, with a yell of triumph, the remains ofHenry's "forlorn" rushed forward, and though many fell, enough came on.In a trice eager hands took the engine from us, and secured the fuseeffectually and lit it, and bore us back--I was going to say, out ofdanger; but alas! as a deafening crash and a blaze of light proclaimedthe way open and the last gate down, he who had done the deed, andopened the way, fell across me, shot from a loophole! As the rain offragments from the gate fell hissing and splashing in the stream thatflowed below, and while the foot streamed over the bridge, and pressedthrough the breach, Antoine gave a little gasp, and died on my knee.

  The rest all men know; how through five days and nights we fought thegreat street-fight of Cahors; how we took no rest, save against wallsand doorways, or in the courts of houses we had won; how we ate anddrank with hands smirched with blood, and then to it again; how we wonthe city house by house, and foot by foot, until at last the white flagwaved from the great tower, and France awoke with a start to know thatin the young prince of pleasure, whom she had deemed a trifler, was bornthe shrewdest statesman and the boldest soldier of all her royal line.

  And Antoine? When I went, after many hours, to seek him, the horse hadcrossed the bridge, and even his body was gone. How he had traced us,how managed to come to the front so opportunely, whether without him thestar of Navarre would have risen so gloriously on that night of '80,never to be forgotten, I cannot say. But when I hear men talk of Crillonand courage--above all, when I hear them talk of the fops and ribbonedpopinjays of to-day, with their loose breeches and their bell-mouthedboots, I think of my comrade and rival who won Cahors for the King. AndI smile.

  PART II