The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  Hector gave him a full account of the battle. “The special thing for which I was promoted,” he said, at the finish, “was that, the night before, it struck me that there might be an ambush set in the copses in the hollow between the two armies. So far as I could see, no efforts whatever had been made either to occupy the woods or to find out if the enemy had done so; so I went with my servant, who is a capital fellow, and we made our way into them, and discovered a regiment of musketeers hidden there. Of course I reported the fact to General Gassion, and he told the prince. So, before attacking the enemy’s lines, the prince charged right along the wood and destroyed the musketeers there. If he had not done so, they would have taken him in rear when he was hotly engaged with the Spaniards, and might have changed the fate of the battle.”

  “Certainly they might,” the sergeant said. “A volley from a thousand muskets from the rear would well shake even the best cavalry. It was a happy thought of yours indeed.”

  “Any merit there is in it was due to Turenne, who had carefully instructed me in everything that could be of importance when two hostile armies faced each other; and as he would never have dreamt of retiring to rest before having every place where an enemy could conceal himself carefully searched, it seemed to me a matter of course that it should be done. However, General Gassion and the prince were both good enough to consider that the service was a vital one, and as soon as the battle was over the prince gave me my promotion.”

  “And it was well earned, lad, well earned. And now about that affair at Turin.”

  “It could not have been better done, Hector,” the old soldier said in high delight when the story was told. “I used to think that you spent more time than was necessary in reading over accounts of battles and sieges, but I see that the time was well spent. You may be sure that I will be with you at seven tomorrow morning,” he added as Hector rose to leave, “though I expect I shall have a heavy night of it here, for there will scarcely be a man in the regiment who won’t come round and stay to hear the news. I warrant that by this evening there will not be a sou remaining out of the money you have left for them.”

  Hector arrived at the hotel just in time for the midday meal, and was pleased to find that Conde himself was not present. He and his two companions were placed at different points at the great table, so that as many as possible could hear the story of the battle. After the meal was over, Hector was glad to leave the salon, and in company with a gentleman of the household, who had volunteered to be his guide, spent the afternoon in visiting the principal sights of Paris, of which he had seen but little when a boy in barracks. The hotels of the nobles, each a fortress rather than a private building, interested him greatly, as also the streets in which the principal traders lived; but he was unfavourably impressed with the appearance of the population in all other parts, and could well understand what his guide told him, that it was dangerous in the extreme for a gentleman unattended to pass through these quarters.

  At six o’clock he sat down to the evening meal at Conde’s, after which, having attired himself in his new suit, he repaired with de Penthiere and de Caussac to the Louvre. It was eight o’clock when they entered, the reception rooms were already full, and the brilliancy of the attire, both of the courtiers and ladies, seen by the light of great chandeliers, was impressive in the extreme to one who had never seen any gathering of the kind before. There was a little pause in the buzz of conversation as the three officers entered, and Hector’s two companions were at once surrounded by friends, while he himself was joined by Colonel Maclvor and the other two officers.

  “You are the heroes of the evening, Campbell,” the former said with a laugh. “A dozen ladies have already asked me to present you to them.”

  “Well, please don’t do so just now, colonel; let me look round first.”

  “That is but fair, Campbell. First, though, I will tell you a piece of news that I have just heard. The queen sent off a messenger two days ago to Turenne, and it is believed that he is to have the command of the army on the Rhine.”

  “That is good news indeed,” Hector exclaimed. “It is high time that he should be given a command, instead of being always put under men less capable than himself. Still, it is unexpected at the present moment.”

  “I know that the queen always had the greatest liking for Turenne,” the colonel said, “but of course until now she has had no power. Moreover, I fancy that the appointment is to some extent dictated by policy. Conde is already dangerously powerful; Enghien’s victory will, of course, largely add to his influence. No doubt some large estates will be given to the latter, such a service cannot be ungenerously rewarded, but it will be thought unadvisable to give him at present further opportunities. Conde is old, and his son, who is certainly ambitious and hotheaded now, will be even more powerful than his father has been. Were he to win more victories, and to become a popular idol, his power might well overshadow that of the throne. Therefore it is likely enough that my news is true. Turenne has proved that military duty is with him supreme, for he held aloof from all the troubles in which his brother the duke has involved himself, and he may act as a counterpoise to Enghien. I fancy that the latter’s plan, which, as you have told me, would lead to a conquest of Flanders, will not be adopted. It would not have been so in Richelieu’s time. The red cardinal would not have lost a moment in ordering him to march into Flanders, thinking only of the good of France, and disregarding the fact that continued successes might lead to his own power being shaken.”

  “And you do not think that Mazarin will act in the same way?”

  “I think not. Of course at present not much is known about him. He affects the greatest humility, is almost obsequious to the great nobles, and even professes to be anxious to return to Italy as soon as his services here can be dispensed with. But I expect that he will in time occupy as great a position as that of Richelieu, but that he will hold it by craft rather than strength is, from the look of the man, likely enough. For myself I should say that it is infinitely better for France that an ecclesiastic like Richelieu or Mazarin should be at the head of affairs, than that the great nobles should all struggle and intrigue for power, ready as they have shown themselves over and over again to plunge France into civil war for the attainment of their aims. Ah, here comes the queen!”

  The door at the end of the salon opened and Anne entered. By her side walked the young king, a little behind were Orleans and Conde, Beaufort and Bouillon, while, following them, with an air that was almost humble, came Mazarin. The queen and the young king were dressed in violet, the mourning colour of the court, and the ladies present all wore shades of that colour relieved by white. All present formed themselves into two lines, through which the queen walked. She acknowledged the deep reverences, and the little king bowed repeatedly. Anne of Austria was one of the most beautiful women of her time, and although the charm of youth had disappeared, her stateliness of bearing made up for this loss, and Hector thought that he had never seen so lovely a woman.

  As soon as they had passed into an inner apartment known as the audience chamber the lines broke up, and a buzz of conversation and light laughter followed the silence that had reigned as the procession passed. The court, indeed, felt a general feeling of relief at the death of Louis. Although well meaning and desirous of doing good, the life of the monarch had not been a happy one. His health had never been good, and although he had the wisdom to see that in supporting Richelieu, and in every way adding to his authority, he was acting for the good of France, the knowledge that he himself was little more than a cipher galled and irritated him. His disposition was a jealous one, and as the great minister knew that Anne of Austria was ever his opponent politically, he worked upon this feeling, and embittered the lives of both the king and queen, and the latter was the constant victim of the king’s jealousy and caprices.

  These things, combined with the ascetic temperament of the king, had rendered the court of France a dismal one, and the royal salons formed a strong
contrast to the brilliancy of those of Richelieu. Now the king was gone, and there was a general feeling of relief among the nobles and ladies of the court. It might be that stormy times were ahead, and indeed it was no secret that Conde, Beaufort, and many other nobles were already united against Mazarin. They called themselves “The Importants,” a term well suited to their own idea of their power, and of the position they aspired to as the natural leaders of France.

  “Madame de Chevreuse wishes you to be presented to her,” Colonel Maclvor said to Hector. “Everyone knows her reputation; she is the cleverest woman in France, and one of the most intriguing. She is the queen’s greatest friend, and has been her mainstay in her struggle with Richelieu. Of one thing we may be sure, that she will not tamely see Mazarin step into his place, and she has, it is whispered, already thrown herself into the arms of ‘The Importants,’ and if anyone can persuade the queen to throw over the cardinal it is she.”

  With a slight shrug of his shoulders Hector followed the colonel to a group of three or four ladies seated upon some fauteuils.

  The colonel stopped before one of these, and bowing deeply said, “Duchess, I have the honour to present to you my compatriot, Colonel Campbell, who arrived here this morning with despatches from the Duc d’Enghien.”

  Madame Chevreuse, like the queen, was still a beautiful woman. She was petite, and possessed a face whose fascination few could withstand. She was the most restless of intriguers, and was never so happy as when engaged in conspiracies which might cost her her estates and liberty.

  “Why, Monsieur Campbell,” she said with a smile, “I had looked to see a fierce warrior, and, lo and behold I find one who, by his appearance, will be far more in his element at court than in the field.”

  “Then appearances must greatly belie me, madame,” Hector said; “for while I may say that I am at home in a military camp, I feel sorely ill at ease here, and I feel I would rather face an enemy’s battery than so many beautiful faces.”

  “That is not bad for a beginner,” the lady said with a smile, “but methinks you will soon get over that fear, for there is nothing very dangerous in any of us. The Duchesse de Longueville,” and she motioned to the lady next to her, “is as desirous as myself that you should be presented to her, and that she should hear from your lips somewhat more of the doings of her brother than she has yet learned.”

  Hector again bowed deeply. The sister of Enghien was as ambitious for her brother’s sake as he was for his own self, and she was his potent ally in the troubles of the times.

  “Enghien was wounded,” she said. “Monsieur la Moussaie left the field directly the battle was won, and could tell me little about my brother’s injuries.”

  “He received three wounds, duchess, but happily none of them were severe, and he was on horseback on the following morning. It seemed miraculous to us all that he should so escape, for he rode ever ahead of us in the charges against the Spanish square.”

  “You were acting as one of his aides-de-camp? I do not remember having seen your face before.”

  “No, madame. I have been for the past four years on the staff of the Viscount de Turenne, and have not left the army during that time. The general had the goodness, seeing that there was little doing in the south, to send me to learn what I could from the operations of the duke against the Spanish. He sent me a letter of recommendation to your brother, who kindly appointed me to the same position under him that I had occupied under Turenne.”

  “Did you find the ladies of Italy very lovely?” Madame de Chevreuse asked suddenly.

  “In truth, madame, I had but small opportunities of judging, seeing that, unless when sent with some message from the general to the Duchess of Savoy, I do not think that I exchanged a single word with a woman during the whole of my stay there.”

  Madame de Chevreuse, and the Duchesse de Longueville, and all the ladies sitting round, smiled.

  “Then you have very much to learn, Colonel Campbell,” Madame de Chevreuse said. “You will find plenty of ladies in the court here who will not object to give you lessons.”

  “I trust, madame,” Hector said bluntly, “that there will be little opportunity for me to take lessons as to the manners of the court, for I hope that my stay here will be short indeed.”

  “That is a most ungallant speech,” the younger duchess said, laughing, “and shows indeed the truth of what you have said as to your ignorance of women. Do you not know, sir; that it is an unwritten law at court that every gentleman here must be at the feet of one fair lady?”

  “I suppose that, had I been brought up at court,” Hector said, “I should not be more insensible than others; but when one passes three-quarters of one’s time on horseback, and that under a commander like Turenne, who sets us all an example in the matter of endurance and watchfulness, one has small leisure indeed for aught else, and indeed is glad enough to seek one’s bed as soon as the day’s work is done.”

  “If you are another Turenne,” Madame de Chevreuse laughed, “I give you up. He is the most insensible of men. His head contains but one idea, and that is duty; and as to us poor creatures, he is as insensible as was St. Anthony.”

  At this moment the door that separated the salon from that of the queen opened, and the names of Monsieur de Penthiere and Monsieur de Caussac were called. The two officers at once passed into the inner room.

  “You are either left out in the cold, monsieur le colonel, or you will have the honour of a separate audience,” Madame de Chevreuse said.

  “As I have been rewarded far above my merits for any service that I have rendered,” Hector said quietly, “it is probable that the queen has nothing to say to me. She was pleased to receive me very graciously this morning, and gave me her hand to kiss, and I assuredly have no right to expect any further favours.”

  In a few minutes the two officers came out, both looking radiant, the queen having graciously presented them with the titles to two estates. A minute later Hector’s name was called, and he went off, with a deep bow to the ladies and a murmured apology for leaving them.

  “A loyal spirit, surely,” Madame de Chevreuse said; “bizarre, of course, and at present simple as a child. Moreover, I should say that the atmosphere of the court will not infect him as it has the others. It is refreshing to meet with one who, although he must have distinguished himself vastly, is still modest and simple, without a shadow of conceit or of self consciousness. He spoke as frankly to us as if we were two waiting maids at a cabaret. However, men of that stamp may always be made useful, and I would rather have the devotion of a young officer like that, who is, I should say, likely to rise to high rank, than that of half a dozen men ready to lay their hearts at the feet of the first comer, and who are as ready to change mistresses as sides.”

  By this time the door had closed behind Hector. The queen was sitting on a sofa, with the little king by her side. Mazarin stood a pace behind her. Conde and Orleans had a short time before gone out, and had mingled with the crowd in the antechamber, and the courtiers present, who were all members of her council, stood some distance in the rear.

  “We have had time, Colonel Campbell, to read our despatches, and can now estimate the service that you rendered the Duc d’Enghien and our army. General Gassion, or I should say Marshal Gassion, for he has today been raised to that rank, speaks of the value of that service in terms of the highest eulogy, and indeed says frankly, that had it not been for your voluntary expedition and the discovery by you of the Spanish ambuscade, it is probable that we should have suffered a defeat instead of a victory. The duke speaks no less strongly in your favour. I can remember that when the Viscount Turenne was here three years ago, he told us how a young Scottish officer on his staff had saved Turin to us by a most daring enterprise, by which he informed the garrison of the citadel that help would soon reach them, and mentioned that for that service he had appointed Monsieur Campbell a captain. You are Scottish by birth, are you not?”

  “I am, your majesty, by birt
h and descent. My father was a captain in the Scottish regiment, and fell at the siege of La Rochelle. I was, I may say, adopted by the regiment, and had the good fortune to be trained in arms from a child, and the still greater fortune to attract the attention of the Viscount de Turenne, who, young as I was, obtained a commission for me and appointed me to his staff.”

  “Well, young sir, the viscount rewarded you for the great service that you rendered him at Turin; the Duc d’Enghien has similarly rewarded you for your service to him at Rocroi; but it is ours to reward you for your services to France; and Cardinal Mazarin will, in my name, hand you tomorrow the estate of de la Villar, in Poitou, which carries with it the title of Baron de la Villar. A soldier who has rendered such service to us cannot be allowed to remain a soldier dependent on his pay, and I am sure that should need arise you will do me as good service as you have rendered to Turenne and Enghien.”

  “Your majesty is too good and gracious,” Hector stammered, overcome by this sudden and unexpected reward; “but be assured, madame”—and he recovered himself, and his voice was steady—“should there be need, I will willingly lay down my life in your majesty’s service, and in that of the king, your son.”

  “Which means also,” the queen said gently, “in that of my minister, who may need faithful friends even more than we do, and under whose advice we have now acted.”

  “Assuredly, madame. Cardinal Mazarin is your minister, and as long as he possesses your confidence he represents France in my eyes, and I will render as faithful service to him as to yourself.”

  “Well spoken, baron,” the queen said graciously. “Henceforth I shall count you as among my friends.” She held out her hand for him to kiss, as did the little king, and after a deep bow to them and to the cardinal, Hector left the audience chamber still almost bewildered by the honours bestowed upon him.