by G. A. Henty
Hector made his way through the crowd to the side of Colonel Maclvor, the general verdict of those who watched him being that he had not met with the same good fortune as those who preceded him, but that for some reason or other he had been reprimanded.
“Well, lad,” the colonel said, “what fortune have you met with? Judging by your face, either the queen or the cardinal have failed to recognize the service that you have rendered.”
“Upon the contrary, colonel, they have so heaped favours upon me that at present I can scarcely realize my good fortune, and feel almost humiliated that so much should have been given for what was a mere matter of duty and attended by no great peril.”
“What have they done, then, Campbell?”
“Well, colonel, absurd as it seems even to myself, the queen has graciously bestowed upon me the estate of la Villar, by which gift she says I become as its owner the Baron de la Villar.”
“That is fortunate indeed, my dear Campbell,” the colonel said, heartily shaking him by the hand. “It shows that the duke and Gassion were of the same opinion that we expressed, namely, that your discovery of that ambush was the chief factor in bringing about the victory of Rocroi.”
“But it was such a simple thing,” Hector said. “It was merely a reconnaissance, such as I have made scores of times in Italy.”
“No doubt, Campbell; but you see the other reconnaissances did not lead to any results, while this did. My dear lad, it is by results that men are judged. That you, a young officer on Enghien’s staff, should unbidden, and, as you say, as a matter of duty, have undertaken such a business, shows how thoroughly you have profited by your teaching under Turenne; and as such you deserve what you have gained, though I do not say that you would have obtained your desserts had not your reconnaissance saved Enghien from defeat. Now I will take you to Madame de Chevreuse again. She beckoned to me after you entered the audience chamber, and told me to bring you up again when you came out, as she and the Duchesse de Longueville had taken a great fancy to you. Now, my dear boy, your position is changed. You have become a French noble, and, however unwilling, may find yourself mixed up on one side or the other with the doings of your court. Both these ladies have power, and it is well to keep in with them, for either of them might prove a valuable friend and protector, and the first rule here is make as many friends as possible, for no one can say when you may require them.”
Hector again followed the colonel to the group of ladies.
“Madame,” Maclvor said, “I have the honour to present you—”
“Why, have you not presented him to us already?” Madame de Chevreuse said with a laugh. “Your memory must be singularly short, colonel.”
“My memory is not short, madame, but it is a somewhat different personage that I have now to present to you. Madame, I have the honour to present Colonel Campbell, Baron de la Villar.”
Both ladies uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“Why, what has he done, colonel?” the duchess exclaimed. “It must have been some remarkable action, surely, for him to be made colonel by my brother and Baron de la Villar by the queen.”
“In the opinion of the Duc d’Enghien and General Gassion, duchess, he performed a service that to a large extent brought about the victory of Rocroi. My young friend is at present not beyond the age of modesty, and therefore if you will allow me I will state the circumstances. Under General de Turenne he was in the habit of constantly visiting the posts at night with the viscount or alone, and endeavouring to discover the position and intentions of the enemy. The night before the battle he started voluntarily to perform the same duties, and, accompanied only by his servant, he crept into a wood that lay between the two armies and there discovered a thousand musketeers who were lying in ambush. He reported the discovery to General Gassion, who on his part informed the duke of this most important intelligence, for it was evident that, had the ambuscade been unsuspected, they would have taken the cavalry in the rear at the critical moment of the battle, and would have opened so heavy a fire that even the bravest of cavalry, thus surprised and shot down by an unsuspected foe in their rear, might have fallen into confusion. Being forewarned, the duke directed his first charge upon the wood, took the musketeers by surprise, and annihilated them, before charging and routing the enemy’s horse. Thus you see, ladies, that we have another illustration of the mouse saving the lion, and the lion was generous and noble minded enough to give the mouse full credit for the service that he had rendered him.”
“Then we have good reason to be grateful to you, monsieur le baron,” Madame Chevreuse said, laying aside the bantering tone in which she had before addressed the young Scot, “and her majesty has done well to reward your loyalty, for the estate is a fine one, and has remained without a master since Richelieu brought its last owner to the block for having, as he affirmed, conspired against the king—that is to say, against himself. You have begun well indeed, sir. Henceforth the Duchesse de Longueville and myself may be counted upon as your friends. And now,” she said, changing the subject abruptly, “as you say that you are anxious to be off, with whom will you serve, with Turenne or with Enghien? For I hear that Turenne has been sent for to take the command of the army of the Rhine.”
“I belong to Viscount Turenne,” Hector said. “It is to him that I owe everything. He picked me up a rough boy, with no recommendation save that my father died fighting for France, and that I was more addicted to military study than most lads of my age, and that, as he was good enough to say, I reminded him of his own boyhood. It was owing to his kindness and his tuition that I have now made my way, and it was still further to increase my military knowledge that he sent me for a time to serve under the Duc d’Enghien. Therefore, much as I admire the glory that the duke has gained, and recognize his extraordinary genius, I feel that duty and gratitude alike bind me to my great master.”
“Quite right,” the Duchesse de Longueville said warmly. “I am sure that my brother will approve of your decision. He admires Turenne as much as you do, and regards him as his master in military science, and it may be perhaps that one of these days you will take part in a battle in which my brother and Turenne will both have command.”
“If it be so, madame,” Hector said, “there can be little doubt of victory, for with the two greatest military geniuses France has produced during the last hundred years it would be hard indeed if victory did not attend their united banners.”
The news of the honour that had been bestowed upon this young colonel circulated rapidly through the salon, and many gentlemen came up and begged Colonel Maclvor to introduce him to them. One who had received so marked a proof of the queen’s favour, and who had won the praise and goodwill of both Turenne and Enghien, might well become in time a man of mark, and so many compliments were showered upon Hector that he was glad indeed when the queen again passed through the room on her way to her apartments and he was at liberty to retire. He walked slowly back to Conde’s palace, went up to his room, changed his court suit for that which he had worn during the day, and then went out again, feeling that it would be hopeless to attempt to sleep. He paced backwards and forwards for some hours on the quay, thinking of the changes that three days had brought about.
He could scarcely realize even now, that he who a week ago was but a captain with nought but his pay, was now not only a colonel but a noble of France, with an estate of whose value he was ignorant, but as it carried with it a patent of nobility it was evident that it must be one of dimensions sufficient to support the title. The change excited no feeling of exultation. His whole thoughts so far had been directed solely to his career as a soldier. He had hoped that some day he might win a colonelcy; more than that he had never thought of. High commands in France were matters of birth, interest, and connection. Gassion, who had just earned his marshal’s baton, was the sole exception to the rule. Hitherto generals, and still more marshals, had always been men belonging to the first families of France. It had been a matter of course that when an army went to
the field it was under the command of a prince of the blood, and the utmost an outsider could look for was the command of a regiment. The promotion had delighted him, not for the sake of the pay or position, but because, if he obtained the command of one of the regiments that were rapidly being formed to meet the dangers that threatened France, he would have opportunities of doing good service and of earning the esteem of such men as Turenne. His civil dignity, however, oppressed rather than gratified him. He would have heavy responsibilities. When not on active service he would be expected to show himself at court, and would have a difficulty in holding himself aloof from its intrigues and conspiracies. His thoughts turned to Scotland. He had relations there, it was true, both on his father’s and mother’s side, but they were strangers to him. Moreover, Scotland at present was torn by a civil and religious war. In England a civil war was raging, and the extreme party in Scotland, having got the upper hand, had allied themselves with the English parliamentarians, and the cause of the king was well nigh lost.
The Scottish officers and men in the French service had for the most part left their homes owing to the bitter religious differences of the times, and, under the easier conditions of the life in France, had come to look with disgust at the narrow bigotry of the Scottish sects, a feeling heightened perhaps by the deep resentment that still prevailed in France at the insolence with which Knox and the Scottish reformers had treated their princess, Queen Mary. Among the French officers the feeling was wholly in favour of the royal cause in England. The queen was French, and had France herself not been engaged in warfare numbers of the young nobles would have gone over and drawn their swords in her cause, and Hector would gladly have done the same.
For the time, at any rate, he had no idea whatever of returning to Scotland. If better times came he had often thought that, if successful in winning a competency, he would return to his native land, for his close connection with the Scottish regiment kept alive in him his feeling of nationality, and he always regarded himself as a stranger in France. The estates and title now bestowed upon him seemed to put this hope further away than ever, and to fix him permanently in France, a contingency more disagreeable to him the more he saw how completely France was dominated by faction, and how unstable were the conditions of life there. His musings, therefore, as he walked up and down for hours, were very different from those which most young men would have felt at so great and sudden a change in their fortunes.
CHAPTER XI
THE CASTLE OF LA VILLAR
The next morning he called at eleven o’clock, at which hour the cardinal’s secretary had informed him that Mazarin would expect him. He went to the abode of the minister. Mazarin received him with marked courtesy.
“Here are the deeds appointing to you the estate of la Villar and your patent of nobility,” he said, pointing to a box upon his table. “You have been singularly fortunate, sir, and from all inquiries that I have made from officers who have served with Monsieur de Turenne, and, I may say, from Colonel Maclvor, I hear nothing but good of you, as a soldier devoted to duty, as a young man free from the vices and dissipations too common among those of your age, and as possessing intelligence as well as courage. Such men, sir, even royalty does well to attach to itself, and for them a splendid career is open. I, high as is the office in which Providence has placed me, may well envy you. You fight against the enemies of France; I am surrounded by enemies open and secret, and the war is no less earnest than that which Turenne and Enghien are waging.
“The great nobles of France are jealous that I, a foreigner, should have the ear of the queen, and be first minister of the country. Gladly indeed would I resign my position and return to my bishopric in Italy, were it not that I promised the great man to whose place I have so unworthily succeeded, that I would do my best for the country on whose behalf he spent every hour of his life, and that I would, unless driven from it by force, hold the seals of office until the young king should be old enough to rule France unaided. You, baron, are like myself a foreigner, and ready to risk your life in the service of France, and you will understand how I am situated and how I feel. You, happily for yourself, are not so highly placed as to excite enmity, although doubtless not a few of those who flocked round you yesterday evening to congratulate you on your good fortune felt a sensation of envy that a young soldier of fortune should be so honoured.
“In my case envy is accompanied by the deepest animosity. The great nobles find me an obstacle in the way of their grasping power, and they would hesitate at nothing to rid themselves of me. Were it not for the support of the queen, my position would be untenable even for an hour. Without me the queen herself would speedily become as much a cipher as she was so long as the weak king reigned. We have need, both of us, of men of heart and devotion such as I take you to be. I ask for no engagements, sir, but I felt that there was a genuine ring in your voice yesterday evening when you promised faithful service to her majesty, and I feel that if such service is needed you will be ready to render it.”
“I shall indeed, your eminence. I cannot conceive that any circumstances can occur that would render such aid as I could offer of service to you, but be assured that should such an occasion arise, the queen may count upon me to render it to the extent of my life; and when I say the queen I, of course, include your eminence as her trusted adviser and supporter.”
“Well spoken, sir. I believe your words, and it may be that the occasion is not so far distant as you may imagine. Here is the box, sir. By the way, it will, I am sure, be a pleasure for you to know that her majesty has the intention of creating the Viscount de Turenne field marshal as soon as he arrives in Paris.”
“It is indeed, monseigneur; never did a soldier better earn such honour. There, indeed sir, is a true and noble heart, loyal to his duty beyond all things, adored by his soldiers, ready to serve under officers altogether inferior to himself, incapable of jealousy, and devoted to his sovereign and his country.”
“You do not speak too warmly of him,” the cardinal said; “and among all the difficulties of the situation there seems to be but one fixed point, and that point is that upon Monsieur de Turenne we can at least confidently rely.”
Hector felt that his audience was at an end, and taking the box from the table, and again thanking the cardinal for the honour bestowed upon him, he retired. The cardinal’s chamberlain met him at the door. “Will you step in here, monsieur le baron?” he said, and led the way into a small apartment. “As a stranger to the court, monsieur, you are probably unaware of the value of the gift that has been granted to you, or of its duties and obligations.”
“Altogether, sir; beyond the fact that it is in Poitou, which her majesty mentioned yesterday, I know absolutely nothing about it.”
“Without being an estate of the first class,” the chamberlain said, “it is one which is of importance in its province. The revenue is punctually paid and is amply sufficient to enable its lord to make a good figure at court, and to rank among the notables in the province. It is a fief held directly from the crown; its owner is bound to furnish feudal service of twenty-five mounted men and twenty-five arquebusiers, or, should he prefer it, fifty horsemen in all. Some of its owners have in times of peril raised a force of thrice that strength. So you will see that the Lord of la Villar is not an unimportant personage. The estate is held at present by a royal intendant. You will find in that box an order for him to place you in possession of the castle and estate whensoever you may present yourself, and as at the present moment your services can be spared from the army, it might be as well to visit it at once, if only for a few days. Possibly the cardinal did not inform you that he has ordered that the regiment that has been just recruited shall bear the name of the regiment of Poitou, and has appointed you to its command.”
This news gave much greater pleasure to Hector than did the gift of the fief, or the rank that accompanied it.
“Will you please give my earnest thanks to his excellency,” he said, “and assure him that he
can depend upon my devotion.”
When Hector returned to the Hotel Conde he found that the soldiers who had started with him from Rocroi had all arrived, bringing with them the twelve horses that had been left on the road; four of these were to be handed over to each of the officers. The division was just being made as he entered the courtyard, each officer taking the four he had ridden by the way.
Paolo at once came up to him. “What are we to do with these horses, master?” he asked, with an air of bewilderment.
“We have now seven of them, counting mine, the one I led, and that you rode when you set out.”
“I must see where I can bestow them for the present until we think the matter over;” and going up to one of Conde’s officers, he asked him if he could recommend a place where he might leave safely four horses for a time.
“The auberge of the Pome d’Or is but a street from here, monsieur; it has good stables, and the host is an honest man, which is not often the case with men of his class. When the stables here are full the prince often engages extra stalls there for the use of his guests. I will send four men with the horses at once, if such is your pleasure.”
“You will greatly oblige me by doing so,” Hector replied. Having seen the horses safely and comfortably lodged at the inn, Hector returned to the hotel with Paolo.
“You are not tired, I hope, Paolo?” he asked as they walked back.
“No, master; we have taken three days to do what you did in one, and have fatigued neither ourselves nor our beasts.”
“That is well, for I am going to start on a journey this afternoon, that is to say, if I can manage to make my arrangements.”
“May I ask where you are going, master?”
“You will be surprised to hear that I am going to visit my estates in Poitou.”
Paolo looked sharply up to see whether Hector was joking. Seeing that he looked serious, he said hesitatingly, “But I did not know, master, that you had estates in Poitou. I never heard you speak of them.”