by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XVI.
And is the hostile troop arrived, And have they won the day? It must have been a bloody field Ere Darwent fled away! _The Ettrick Shepherd._
Sleep did not close the eyes of the Earl of Oxford or his son; foralthough the success or defeat of the Duke of Burgundy could not nowbe of importance to their own private or political affairs, yet thefather did not cease to interest himself in the fate of his formercompanion-in-arms; and the son, with the fire of youth, always eagerafter novelty,[12] expected to find something to advance or thwart hisown progress in every remarkable event which agitated the world.
Arthur had risen from his bed, and was in the act of attiring himself,when the tread of a horse arrested his attention. He had no soonerlooked out of the window, than, exclaiming, "News, my father, newsfrom the army!" he rushed into the street, where a cavalier, whoappeared to have ridden very hard, was inquiring for the twoPhilipsons, father and son. He had no difficulty in recognisingColvin, the master of the Burgundian ordnance. His ghastly lookbespoke distress of mind; his disordered array and broken armour,which seemed rusted with rain or stained with blood, gave theintelligence of some affray in which he had probably been worsted; andso exhausted was his gallant steed, that it was with difficulty theanimal could stand upright. The condition of the rider was not muchbetter. When he alighted from his horse to greet Arthur, he reeled somuch that he would have fallen without instant support. His horny eyehad lost the power of speculation; his limbs possessed imperfectlythat of motion, and it was with a half-suffocated voice that hemuttered, "Only fatigue--want of rest and of food."
Arthur assisted him into the house, and refreshments were procured;but he refused all except a bowl of wine, after tasting which he setit down, and, looking at the Earl of Oxford with an eye of the deepestaffliction, he ejaculated, "The Duke of Burgundy!"
"Slain?" replied the Earl. "I trust not!"
"It might have been better if he were," said the Englishman; "butdishonour has come before death."
"Defeated, then?" said Oxford.
"So completely and fearfully defeated," answered the soldier, "thatall that I have seen of loss before was slight in comparison."
"But how, or where?" said the Earl of Oxford. "You were superior innumbers, as we were informed."
"Two to one at least," answered Colvin; "and when I speak of ourencounter at this moment, I could rend my flesh with my teeth forbeing here to tell such a tale of shame. We had sat down for about aweek before that paltry town of Murten, or Morat, or whatever it iscalled. The governor, one of those stubborn mountain bears of Berne,bade us defiance. He would not even condescend to shut his gates, but,when we summoned the town, returned for answer, we might enter if wepleased,--we should be suitably received. I would have tried to bringhim to reason by a salvo or two of artillery, but the Duke was toomuch irritated to listen to good counsel. Stimulated by that blacktraitor, Campo-basso, he deemed it better to run forward with hiswhole force upon a place which, though I could soon have battered itabout their German ears, was yet too strong to be carried by swords,lances, and hagbuts. We were beaten off with great loss, and muchdiscouragement to the soldiers. We then commenced more regularly, andmy batteries would have brought these mad Switzers to their senses.Walls and ramparts went down before the lusty cannoneers of Burgundy;we were well secured also by intrenchments against those whom we heardof as approaching to raise the siege. But, on the evening of thetwentieth of this month, we learned that they were close at hand, andCharles, consulting only his own bold spirit, advanced to meet them,relinquishing the advantage of our batteries and strong position. Byhis orders, though against my own judgment, I accompanied him withtwenty good pieces, and the flower of my people. We broke up on thenext morning, and had not advanced far before we saw the lances andthick array of halberds and two-handed swords which crested themountain. Heaven, too, added its terrors--a thunderstorm, with all thefury of those tempestuous climates, descended on both armies, but didmost annoyance to ours, as our troops, especially the Italians, weremore sensible to the torrents of rain which poured down, and therivulets which, swelled into torrents, inundated and disordered ourposition. The Duke for once saw it necessary to alter his purpose ofinstant battle. He rode up to me, and directed me to defend with thecannon the retreat which he was about to commence, adding that hehimself would in person sustain me with the men-at-arms. The order wasgiven to retreat. But the movement gave new spirit to an enemy alreadysufficiently audacious. The ranks of the Swiss instantly prostratedthemselves in prayer--a practice on the field of battle which I haveridiculed--but I will do so no more. When, after five minutes, theysprang again on their feet, and began to advance rapidly, soundingtheir horns and crying their war-cries with all their usualferocity--behold, my lord, the clouds of heaven opened, shedding onthe Confederates the blessed light of the returning sun, while ourranks were still in the gloom of the tempest. My men were discouraged.The host behind them was retreating; the sudden light thrown on theadvancing Switzers showed along the mountains a profusion of banners,a glancing of arms, giving to the enemy the appearance of double thenumbers that had hitherto been visible to us. I exhorted my followersto stand fast, but in doing so I thought a thought, and spoke a word,which was a grievous sin. 'Stand fast, my brave cannoneers!' I said.'We will presently let them hear louder thunders, and show them morefatal lightnings, than their prayers have put down!' My men shouted.But it was an impious thought, a blasphemous speech, and evil cameafter it. We levelled our guns on the advancing masses as fairly ascannon were ever pointed--I can vouch it, for I laid the Grand Duchessof Burgundy myself--Ah, poor Duchess! what rude hands manage theenow!--The volley was fired, and, ere the smoke spread from themuzzles, I could see many a man and many a banner go down. It wasnatural to think such a discharge should have checked the attack, andwhilst the smoke hid the enemy from us I made every effort again toload our cannon, and anxiously endeavoured to look through the mist todiscover the state of our opponents. But ere our smoke was clearedaway, or the cannon again loaded, they came headlong down on us, horseand foot, old men and boys, men-at-arms and varlets, charging up tothe muzzle of the guns, and over them, with total disregard to theirlives. My brave fellows were cut down, pierced through, and overrun,while they were again loading their pieces, nor do I believe that asingle cannon was fired a second time."
"And the Duke?" said the Earl of Oxford. "Did he not support you?"
"Most loyally and bravely," answered Colvin, "with his own bodyguardof Walloons and Burgundians. But a thousand Italian mercenaries wentoff, and never showed face again. The pass, too, was cumbered with theartillery, and in itself narrow, bordering on mountains and cliffs, adeep lake close beside. In short, it was a place totally unfit forhorsemen to act in. In spite of the Duke's utmost exertions, and thoseof the gallant Flemings who fought around him, all were borne back incomplete disorder. I was on foot, fighting as I could, without hopesof my life, or indeed thoughts of saving it, when I saw the guns takenand my faithful cannoneers slain. But I saw Duke Charles hard pressed,and took my horse from my page that held him--Thou, too, art lost, mypoor orphan boy!--I could only aid Monseigneur de la Croye and othersto extricate the Duke. Our retreat became a total rout, and when wereached our rearguard, which we had left strongly encamped, thebanners of the Switzers were waving on our batteries, for a largedivision had made a circuit through mountain passes known only tothemselves, and attacked our camp, vigorously seconded by thataccursed Adrian de Bubenburg, who sallied from the beleaguered town,so that our intrenchments were stormed on both sides at once.--I havemore to say, but having ridden day and night to bring you these eviltidings, my tongue clings to the roof of my mouth, and I feel that Ican speak no more. The rest is all flight and massacre, disgraceful toevery soldier that shared in it. For my part, I confess mycontumelious self-confidence and insolence to man, as well asblasphemy to Heaven. If I live, it is but to hide my disgraced head ina cowl, and expiate the numerous sins of a l
icentious life."
With difficulty the broken-minded soldier was prevailed upon to takesome nourishment and repose, together with an opiate, which wasprescribed by the physician of King Rene, who recommended it asnecessary to preserve even the reason of his patient, exhausted by theevents of the battle, and subsequent fatigue.
The Earl of Oxford, dismissing other assistance, watched alternatelywith his son at Colvin's bedside. Notwithstanding the draught thathad been administered, his repose was far from sound. Sudden starts,the perspiration which started from his brow, the distortions of hiscountenance, and the manner in which he clenched his fists and flungabout his limbs, showed that in his dreams he was again encounteringthe terrors of a desperate and forlorn combat. This lasted for severalhours; but about noon fatigue and medicine prevailed over nervousexcitation, and the defeated commander fell into a deep and untroubledrepose till evening. About sunset he awakened, and, after learningwith whom and where he was, he partook of refreshments, and, withoutany apparent consciousness of having told them before, detailed oncemore all the particulars of the battle of Murten.
"It were little wide of truth," he said, "to calculate that one halfof the Duke's army fell by the sword, or were driven into the lake.Those who escaped are great part of them scattered, never again tounite. Such a desperate and irretrievable rout was never witnessed. Wefled like deer, sheep, or any other timid animals, which only remainin company because they are afraid to separate, but never think oforder or of defence."
"And the Duke?" said the Earl of Oxford.
"We hurried him with us," said the soldier, "rather from instinct thanloyalty, as men flying from a conflagration snatch up what they haveof value, without knowing what they are doing. Knight and knave,officer and soldier, fled in the same panic, and each blast of thehorn of Uri in our rear added new wings to our flight."
"And the Duke?" repeated Oxford.
"At first he resisted our efforts, and strove to turn back on the foe;but when the flight became general he galloped along with us, withouta word spoken or a command issued. At first we thought his silence andpassiveness, so unusual in a temper so fiery, were fortunate forsecuring his personal safety. But when we rode the whole day, withoutbeing able to obtain a word of reply to all our questions,--when hesternly refused refreshments of every kind, though he had tasted nofood all that disastrous day,--when every variation of his moody anduncertain temper was sunk into silent and sullen despair, we tookcounsel what was to be done, and it was by the general voice that Iwas despatched to entreat that you, for whose counsels alone Charleshas been known to have had some occasional deference, would comeinstantly to his place of retreat, and exert all your influence toawaken him from this lethargy, which may otherwise terminate hisexistence."
"And what remedy can I interpose?" said Oxford. "You know how heneglected my advice, when following it might have served my interestas well as his own. You are aware that my life was not safe among themiscreants that surrounded the Duke, and exercised influence overhim."
"Most true," answered Colvin; "but I also know he is your ancientcompanion-in-arms, and it would ill become me to teach the noble Earlof Oxford what the laws of chivalry require. For your lordship'ssafety, every honest man in the army will give willing security."
"It is for that I care least," said Oxford, indifferently; "and ifindeed my presence can be of service to the Duke,--if I could believethat he desired it"----
"He does--he does, my lord!" said the faithful soldier, with tears inhis eyes. "We heard him name your name, as if the words escaped him ina painful dream."
"I will go to him, such being the case," said Oxford.--"I will goinstantly. Where did he purpose to establish his headquarters?"
"He had fixed nothing for himself on that or other matters; butMonsieur de Contay named La Riviere, near Salins, in Upper Burgundy,as the place of his retreat."
"Thither, then, will we, my son, with all haste of preparation. Thou,Colvin, hadst better remain here, and see some holy man, to beassoilzied for thy hasty speech on the battle-field of Morat. Therewas offence in it without doubt, but it will be ill atoned for byquitting a generous master when he hath most need of your goodservice; and it is but an act of cowardice to retreat into thecloister, till we have no longer active duties to perform in thisworld."
"It is true," said Colvin, "that should I leave the Duke now, perhapsnot a man would stay behind that could stell a cannon properly. Thesight of your lordship cannot but operate favourably on my noblemaster, since it has waked the old soldier in myself. If your lordshipcan delay your journey till to-morrow, I will have my spiritualaffairs settled, and my bodily health sufficiently restored, to beyour guide to La Riviere; and, for the cloister, I will think of itwhen I have regained the good name which I have lost at Murten. But Iwill have masses said, and these right powerful, for the souls of mypoor cannoneers."
The proposal of Colvin was adopted, and Oxford, with his son, attendedby Thiebault, spent the day in preparation, excepting the timenecessary to take formal leave of King Rene, who seemed to part withthem with regret. In company with the ordnance officer of thediscomfited Duke, they traversed those parts of Provence, Dauphine,and Franche Compte which lie between Aix and the place to which theDuke of Burgundy had retreated; but the distance and inconvenience ofso long a route consumed more than a fortnight on the road, and themonth of July 1476 was commenced when the travellers arrived in UpperBurgundy, and at the Castle of La Riviere, about twenty miles to thesouth of the town of Salins. The castle, which was but of small size,was surrounded by very many tents, which were pitched in a crowded,disordered, and unsoldierlike manner, very unlike the disciplineusually observed in the camp of Charles the Bold. That the Duke waspresent there, however, was attested by his broad banner, which, richwith all its quarterings, streamed from the battlements of the castle.The guard turned out to receive the strangers, but in a manner sodisorderly that the Earl looked to Colvin for explanation. The masterof the ordnance shrugged up his shoulders, and was silent.
Colvin having sent in notice of his arrival, and that of the EnglishEarl, Monsieur de Contay caused them presently to be admitted, andexpressed much joy at their arrival.
"A few of us," he said, "true servants of the Duke, are holdingcouncil here, at which your assistance, my noble Lord of Oxford, willbe of the utmost importance. Messieurs De la Croye, De Craon,Rubempre, and others, nobles of Burgundy, are now assembled tosuperintend the defence of the country at this exigence."
They all expressed delight to see the Earl of Oxford, and had onlyabstained from thrusting their attentions on him the last time he wasin the Duke's camp, as they understood it was his wish to observeincognito.
"His Grace," said De Craon, "has asked after you twice, and on bothtimes by your assumed name of Philipson."
"I wonder not at that, my Lord of Craon," replied the Englishnobleman. "The origin of the name took its rise in former days, when Iwas here during my first exile. It was then said that we poorLancastrian nobles must assume other names than our own, and the goodDuke Philip said, as I was brother-in-arms to his son Charles, I mustbe called after himself, by the name of Philipson. In memory of thegood sovereign, I took that name when the day of need actuallyarrived, and I see that the Duke thinks of our early intimacy by hisdistinguishing me so.--How fares his Grace?"
The Burgundians looked at each other, and there was a pause.
"Even like a man stunned, brave Oxford," at length De Contay replied."Sieur d'Argentin, you can best inform the noble Earl of the conditionof our sovereign."
"He is like a man distracted," said the future historian of that busyperiod. "After the battle of Granson, he was never, to my thinking, ofthe same sound judgment as before. But then, he was capricious,unreasonable, peremptory, and inconsistent, and resented every counselthat was offered, as if it had been meant in insult; was jealous ofthe least trespass in point of ceremonial, as if his subjects wereholding him in contempt. Now there is a total change, as if thissecond blow had stunned h
im, and suppressed the violent passions whichthe first called into action. He is silent as a Carthusian, solitaryas a hermit, expresses interest in nothing, least of all in theguidance of his army. He was, you know, anxious about his dress, somuch so that there was some affectation even in the rudenesses whichhe practised in that matter. But, woe's me, you will see a change now;he will not suffer his hair or nails to be trimmed or arranged. He istotally heedless of respect or disrespect towards him, takes little orno nourishment, uses strong wines, which, however, do not seem toaffect his understanding; he will hear nothing of war or stateaffairs, as little of hunting or of sport. Suppose an anchoritebrought from a cell to govern a kingdom, you see in him, except inpoint of devotion, a picture of the fiery, active Charles ofBurgundy."
"You speak of a mind deeply wounded, Sieur d'Argentin," replied theEnglishman. "Think you it fit I should present myself before theDuke?"
"I will inquire," said Contay; and, leaving the apartment, returnedpresently, and made a sign to the Earl to follow him.
In a cabinet, or closet, the unfortunate Charles reclined in a largearm-chair, his legs carelessly stretched on a footstool, but sochanged that the Earl of Oxford could have believed what he saw to bethe ghost of the once fiery Duke. Indeed, the shaggy length of hairwhich, streaming from his head, mingled with his beard; the hollownessof the caverns, at the bottom of which rolled his wild eyes; thefalling in of the breast, and the advance of the shoulders, gave theghastly appearance of one who has suffered the final agony which takesfrom mortality the signs of life and energy. His very costume (a cloakflung loosely over him) increased his resemblance to a shroudedphantom. De Contay named the Earl of Oxford; but the Duke gazed on himwith a lustreless eye, and gave him no answer.
"Speak to him, brave Oxford," said the Burgundian in a whisper; "he iseven worse than usual, but perhaps he may know your voice."
Never, when the Duke of Burgundy was in the most palmy state of hisfortunes, did the noble Englishman kneel to kiss his hand with suchsincere reverence. He respected in him, not only the afflicted friend,but the humbled sovereign, upon whose tower of trust the lightning hadso recently broken. It was probably the falling of a tear upon hishand which seemed to awake the Duke's attention, for he looked towardsthe Earl, and said, "Oxford--Philipson--my old--my only friend, hastthou found me out in this retreat of shame and misery?"
"I am not your only friend, my lord," said Oxford. "Heaven has givenyou many affectionate friends among your natural and loyal subjects.But though a stranger, and saving the allegiance I owe to my lawfulsovereign, I will yield to none of them in the respect and deferencewhich I have paid to your Grace in prosperity, and now come to renderto you in adversity."
"Adversity indeed!" said the Duke; "irremediable, intolerableadversity! I was lately Charles of Burgundy, called the Bold--now am Itwice beaten by a scum of German peasants; my standard taken, mymen-at-arms put to flight, my camp twice plundered, and each time ofvalue more than equal to the price of all Switzerland fairly lost;myself hunted like a caitiff goat or chamois--The utmost spite of hellcould never accumulate more shame on the head of a sovereign!"
"On the contrary, my lord," said Oxford, "it is a trial of Heaven,which calls for patience and strength of mind. The bravest and bestknight may lose the saddle; he is but a laggard who lies rolling onthe sand of the lists after the accident has chanced."
"Ha, laggard, say'st thou?" said the Duke, some part of his ancientspirit awakened by the broad taunt. "Leave my presence, sir, andreturn to it no more, till you are summoned thither"----
"Which I trust will be no later than your Grace quits your dishabille,and disposes yourself to see your vassals and friends with suchceremony as befits you and them," said the Earl composedly.
"How mean you by that, Sir Earl? You are unmannerly."
"If I be, my lord, I am taught my ill-breeding by circumstances. I canmourn over fallen dignity; but I cannot honour him who dishonourshimself, by bending, like a regardless boy, beneath the scourge ofevil fortune."
"And who am I that you should term me such?" said Charles, starting upin all his natural pride and ferocity; "or who are you but amiserable exile, that you should break in upon my privacy with suchdisrespectful upbraiding?"
"For me," replied Oxford, "I am, as you say, an unrespected exile; noram I ashamed of my condition, since unshaken loyalty to my King andhis successors has brought me to it. But in you, can I recognise theDuke of Burgundy in a sullen hermit, whose guards are a disorderlysoldiery, dreadful only to their friends; whose councils are inconfusion for want of their sovereign, and who himself lurks like alamed wolf in its den, in an obscure castle, waiting but a blast ofthe Switzer's horn to fling open its gates, which there are none todefend; who wears not a knightly sword to protect his person, andcannot even die like a stag at bay, but must be worried like a huntedfox?"
"Death and hell, slanderous traitor!" thundered the Duke, glancing alook at his side, and perceiving himself without a weapon.--"It iswell for thee I have no sword, or thou shouldst never boast of thineinsolence going unpunished.--Contay, step forth like a good knight,and confute the calumniator. Say, are not my soldiers arrayed,disciplined, and in order?"
"My lord," said Contay, trembling (brave as he was in battle) at thefrantic rage which Charles exhibited, "there are a numerous soldieryyet under your command, but they are in evil order, and in worsediscipline, I think, than they were wont."
"I see it--I see it," said the Duke; "idle and evil counsellors are yeall.--Hearken, Sir of Contay, what have you and the rest of you beendoing, holding as you do large lands and high fiefs of us, that Icannot stretch my limbs on a sick-bed, when my heart is half broken,but my troops must fall into such scandalous disorder as exposes me tothe scorn and reproach of each beggarly foreigner?"
"My lord," replied Contay, more firmly, "we have done what we could.But your Grace has accustomed your mercenary generals, and leaders ofFree Companies, to take their orders only from your own mouth, orhand. They clamour also for pay, and the treasurer refuses to issue itwithout your Grace's order, as he alleges it might cost him his head;and they will not be guided and restrained, either by us or those whocompose your council."
The Duke laughed sternly, but was evidently somewhat pleased with thereply.
"Ha, ha!" he said, "it is only Burgundy who can ride his own wildhorses, and rule his own wild soldiery. Hark thee, Contay--To-morrow Iride forth to review the troops--for what disorder has passed,allowance shall be made. Pay also shall be issued--but woe to thosewho shall have offended too deeply! Let my grooms of the chamber knowto provide me fitting dress and arms. I have got a lesson" (glancing adark look at Oxford), "and I will not again be insulted without themeans of wreaking my vengeance. Begone, both of you! And, Contay, sendthe treasurer hither with his accounts, and woe to his soul if I findaught to complain of! Begone, I say, and send him hither."
They left the apartment with suitable obeisance. As they retired, theDuke said abruptly, "Lord of Oxford, a word with you. Where did youstudy medicine? In your own famed university, I suppose. Thy physichath wrought a wonder. Yet, Doctor Philipson, it might have cost theethy life."
"I have ever thought my life cheap," said Oxford, "when the object wasto help my friend."
"Thou art indeed a friend," said Charles, "and a fearless one. Butgo--I have been sore troubled, and thou hast tasked my temper closely.To-morrow we will speak further; meantime, I forgive thee, and Ihonour thee."
The Earl of Oxford retired to the council-hall, where the Burgundiannobility, aware of what had passed, crowded around him with thanks,compliments, and congratulations. A general bustle now ensued; orderswere hurried off in every direction. Those officers who had duties toperform which had been neglected, hastened to conceal or to atone fortheir negligence. There was a general tumult in the camp, but it was atumult of joy; for soldiers are always most pleased when they are bestin order for performing their military service; and licence orinactivity, however acceptable at times, are not, whe
n continued, soagreeable to their nature, as strict discipline and a prospect ofemployment.
The treasurer, who was, luckily for him, a man of sense and method,having been two hours in private with the Duke, returned with looks ofwonder, and professed that never, in Charles's most prosperous days,had he showed himself more acute in the department of finance, ofwhich he had but that morning seemed totally incapable; and the meritwas universally attributed to the visit of Lord Oxford, whose timelyreprimand had, like the shot of a cannon dispersing foul mists,awakened the Duke from his black and bilious melancholy.
On the following day Charles reviewed his troops with his usualattention, directed new levies, made various dispositions of hisforces, and corrected the faults of their discipline by severe orders,which were enforced by some deserved punishments (of which the Italianmercenaries of Campo-basso had a large share), and rendered palatableby the payment of arrears, which was calculated to attach them to thestandard under which they served.
The Duke also, after consulting with his council, agreed to convokemeetings of the States in his different territories, redress certainpopular grievances, and grant some boons which he had hitherto denied;and thus began to open a new account of popularity with his subjects,in place of that which his rashness had exhausted.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] Cupidus novarum rerum.