by G. A. Henty
Chapter 13: Convalescent.
Desmond was not present with the French army, for many hours aftertheir arrival at Ghent. He suffered intense pain on the ridethither, and was then taken to a hospital that had been hastilyformed for the reception of wounded officers. Here the surgeonshad agreed that there was nothing for it, but to amputate the armhalfway between the wrist and the elbow. The limb was alreadygreatly swollen.
"Under ordinary circumstances," the surgeon said, "we should waituntil we had reduced the inflammation, but this might be a matterof a week or ten days, and there is no time to spare, as the armywill probably march away in a few days, and travel would increasethe inflammation to such an extent that your life might besacrificed."
"I would rather have it taken off at once, doctor," Desmond said."The operation cannot hurt very much more than the arm is hurtingalready, and the sooner it is over, the better."
Surgery was in its infancy at that time. Anesthetics were undreamtof; but the surgeons of the French army had large experience, andthe operation was very skilfully performed, for the time. Thestump was then seared with a hot iron.
"You have stood it well," the surgeon said, for, except when theiron was applied to the wound, no groan had issued from Desmond'slips. "Now, your servant must keep these dressings continuallysoaked with water, and, in a few days, we may hope that you willbe able to travel in a waggon without danger."
When the army marched away a week later, Desmond was placed in awaggon, half filled with hay, with several other wounded officers.At Arras, where there was a large military hospital, he was keptfor a few days, and then sent on to Amiens, only the most severecases being retained at Arras, as another engagement might takeplace at any moment, and the resources of the town would be taxedto the utmost. He gained strength very slowly, and it was sixweeks before the surgeons pronounced him to be sufficientlyconvalescent to be moved.
"It would," they said, "be probably some months before he would befit to return to active service."
He was sitting, looking listlessly out of the window of thechamber that he and three other officers occupied, when Mike camein, followed, to Desmond's intense surprise, by Monsieur de laVallee.
"My dear Desmond," the latter exclaimed, hurrying forward andgrasping his hand, "you must have thought that we had allforgotten you."
"Indeed, I never thought anything of the kind, Philip. I did notsuppose that you had ever heard of me, since we parted atMoulins."
"News travels but slowly, but we did hear that fifteen subalternsof O'Brien's regiment were captured in the Salisbury. I wrote to afriend in Paris, and he told me that you were among the number,but that, on making enquiries, he found you had, in some manner orother, effected your escape, and that you and two other officershad had an audience with the king, and had then gone to thenorthern frontier on the staff of the Duke of Berwick. I wrotebegging him to get, if possible, a sight of the despatches, and ifyour name appeared, to let us know. Ten days ago, I received aletter from him, to say that you had been wounded at Oudenarde.The Duke of Berwick had, in his private despatch to the king,mentioned your name with very high praise, saying that it was dueto you, alone, that so many of the troops hemmed in at somevillage or other--I forget its name--managed to make their escapeduring the night, for, although he sent off four aides-de-campwith orders, you alone managed to get through the enemy, thoughwounded by a bullet which had caused you the loss of your hand. Hesaid he had written to the chief surgeon on Berwick's staff, whowas a personal friend of his, to ascertain, if possible, where youwere. Of course, I set out as soon as I received his letter."
"What! Have you ridden all the way from the south of France tocome to me, Philip?"
"Of course I have, and should have ridden all across Europe, if ithad been necessary. I went round by Pointdexter. The baron is laidup with an attack of gout, or he would have accompanied me. Hesent all sorts of messages, and so did Anne, and the latterinformed me that I need not show my face at the chateau again,until I came accompanied by you. When I reached Paris my friendhad learned from the surgeon that you were at Amiens, and so, hereI am.
"I met your faithful Mike at the gate of the hospital. I was glad,indeed, to see that he had come out unharmed from that terriblefight. When I told him I had come to take you away, he almostcried with joy."
"It will be the saving of him," he said. "He has been going downthe hill for the last fortnight, and it is change and good nursinghe wants."
"He will get good nursing, I warrant," I said, "and the soft airof the south will soon set him up."
"It is wonderfully kind of you, Philip; but I am sure I am notstrong enough to ride."
"No one is thinking of your riding, at present, Desmond. I havebrought down a horse litter with me, and four of my men, with thequietest horses on the estate, and all you have to do is to liedown in it, and talk with me whenever you are disposed. You have awhole batch of adventures to tell me."
"I feel better already, Philip. I own that I have been downheartedof late, for it seemed to me that I should be an invalid formonths, and be living in Paris without a friend except Mike, forall the regiments of the Brigade are either with Vendome or inSpain. The sight of your face, and the thought of your kindness,so cheers me that I feel capable of anything."
"Well, we will start tomorrow morning, Desmond. I shall go at onceand see the director of the hospital, and get an order for yourdischarge."
The next morning they set out. Desmond had to be assisteddownstairs. There he was laid on a litter, packed with soft rugs.This was raised and placed between two horses, ridden by two of dela Vallee's men. De la Vallee himself took his place by the sideof the litter, Mike rode on ahead leading Desmond's charger, andthe other two servants fell to the rear, in readiness to changewith those bearing the litter, when half the day's journey wasdone.
Seeing that the exertion of being moved had exhausted his friend,de la Vallee rode for some time in silence. Then, when Desmondopened his eyes and smiled at him, he said:
"I hope you are feeling comfortable?"
"Perfectly. I hardly feel any motion."
Every care had been taken to prevent jolting. The poles of thelitter were unusually long, thus adding to their elasticity. Theends passed through leathern loops suspended from the saddle; andwere, at this point, covered with a thick wrapping of flannelbandages, which aided in minimizing the effect of any jar. Thefirst day's journey was performed at a walking pace, and theyreached Beauvais, twenty-five miles being accomplished.
The fresh air and the slight easy motion were beneficial, and inthe afternoon, Desmond was able to talk cheerfully with hisfriend. There was, however, no continued conversation, Philipsaying he would ask no questions about Desmond's doings until hewas stronger. His story had better be told while sitting quietlyin a room, where it would not be necessary, as it was on the road,for the voice to be raised.
In the evening, however, after partaking of supper, Desmond,without being asked, related the incidents, so far as he knewthem, of the battle of Oudenarde, and of the manner in which hereceived his wound.
"The whole disaster was due entirely to the Duke of Burgundy, orrather to the king, who placed him in command over two generals ofthe highest skill and reputation. If he had wanted to accompanythe army, Burgundy should have done so just as our King James did,merely as a volunteer.
"I am told that the king showed great courage in the battle. Formy part, I think his presence was altogether a mistake. He claimsthat the English are his subjects, and yet he takes part with aforeign army in battle against them. His being present willcertainly not add to his popularity in England."
"I agree with you," de la Vallee said. "It would have been muchwiser for him to have abstained, altogether, from interference inthe matter. It was, of course, a different thing when he attemptedto land in Scotland. Then he would have been leading the loyalportion of his subjects, against those whom he considers rebelsagainst his authority. That was quite a different thing fromacting, without cause
or reason, as a volunteer in the Frencharmy, against those whom he regards as his countrymen andsubjects.
"I am afraid, Desmond, that, though it may shock you to think so,these Stuart princes of yours are not wise men. Legitimatemonarchs of England though they may be, they do not possess thequalities that endear kings to their people. From what I haveheard, James was a heavy pedant, a rank coward, essentially not aman to be popular among a spirited people. Charles had a noblepresence and many fine qualities. But, although his ideas ofkingly power would have suited us well enough in France, hisarbitrary measures alienated a large proportion of his people, andbrought ruin upon him.
"Your second Charles, in spite of his numerous indiscretions, wasnot unpopular, because the people were wearied of the sternrepression of Puritan rule, and were therefore disposed to lookleniently upon his frailties, while they appreciated his goodtemper and wit. His fatal mistake was allying himself so closelywith us--a grievous mistake, indeed, when we remember that forcenturies the two nations had been bitterly opposed to each other.As for his brother, he forfeited his throne by his leaningstowards the Catholic Church, in whose communion he died.Decidedly, the Stuart kings were not a success.
"As to James the Third, as you call him, I know nothing beyond thefact that he is a protege of the king of France, and has nowfought against his own people--a blunder, as it seems to me, ofthe worst kind, and one which is certain to alienate many of hissupporters on the other side of the water. Were he to mount thethrone, it would be partly due to the aid of French troops andFrench money--men and money, mind you, of a power at war withEngland! He would therefore, necessarily, like Charles the Second,be regarded as a protege of France. He would be bound in gratitudeto Louis, and the position of England would be altogether changed.She would become the ally of Spain and France, her ancientenemies; and opponent of her present allies, Holland, Austria,Protestant Germany, and Denmark."
Desmond was silent. He could not but agree with what his friendsaid, and had himself considered that it was a most unwise stepfor James to appear in the field, fighting against his countrymen.
"I don't think I am strong enough to argue, Philip," he said witha smile, after a long pause, "and I don't mean to give you avictory, when I am fighting under disadvantages. The Stuartscertainly never did any special benefit to Ireland, and assuredlybrought ruin and misery upon us; and at the present moment, Idon't seem able to explain why we should be so devoted to thecause of these Scottish Stuarts, rather than to that of Anne, whois, after all, of the same family and race. However, we will fightit out when my brain is not so dull as it is at present."
They slept the next night at Pontoise, having made a somewhatshort journey, though Desmond protested that he felt quite equalto going on to Paris.
"You are a good deal better today, Desmond, but there is no hurry,and we will take matters quietly. If you continue to makeimprovement we shall be able, in another day or two, to travelfaster; and I hope that, before we get to the end of our journey,you will be strong enough to sit your horse for a few miles eachday."
They made no stay in Paris, but proceeded on their way, themorning after their arrival. Melun and Montargis were their nexthalting places. Desmond was gaining strength rapidly. His goodspirits were returning, and at their evening halt, he had beenable to recite the history of his escape from England. His woundhad a less angry appearance, and on the day of their leavingMontargis the horses, at his request, occasionally broke into atrot for a mile or two.
"You are looking paler. I think the motion is too much for you,"Philip said after one of these occasions, when they again settleddown to a walking pace.
"I feel a bit tired, Philip, but one must make a beginning, and Ishall never get strong unless I begin to use my muscles. Atpresent, I acknowledge I feel as if I had been beaten all overwith sticks, but I have no doubt that I shall shake this off,after a bit."
This was indeed the case, and on the last three days of theirjourney to Pointdexter, he sat his horse for two or three hours.Philip had, on the last day, sent on one of his men to inform thebaron that he would arrive that evening with Desmond, and as theywere seen approaching, the baron and his daughter came out fromthe chateau, and welcomed them as they alighted.
"Do not upset the young fellow by appearing shocked at hisappearance," the former had said to Anne. "It was certainly ablow, this morning, to hear that he had lost his left hand, andthat the greater portion of the journey had had to be performed ina litter, so you must expect to find him greatly pulled down. Butsee, they are breaking into a trot, so he has evidently gainedstrength on the way."
In spite of the warning, the girl's eyes filled with tears as shesaw Desmond's thin face and wasted figure, and his left arm in asling.
"Welcome to Pointdexter, Monsieur Kennedy! Many have entered here,since the old chateau was built, but none who have rendered suchvital service to our race. Do not try to speak. I see that you areshaken with your journey. We will soon put that all right."
"It has been a rather longer journey than we have previouslymade," Desmond said, after dismounting and shaking hands with thebaron and his daughter, "and we rode somewhat faster than usual,as we were both of us anxious to be here. It was good, indeed, ofPhilip to make such a journey to find and bring me to you."
"If he had not done so, assuredly we should. My foot was so bad,with this villainous gout, that I could not put it in a stirrup,but we should have had out the family coach. I had half a mind todo so as it was, and Anne was most anxious to try her powers ofnursing, but Philip overruled us, and said that he would be withyou a week earlier than we could reach you in the coach, and that,moreover, he was sure the journey in an open horse litter would befar better for you than being jolted in a close carriage. So, asusual, he had his own way; though I must say that, for once, Annerebelled strongly against his authority."
"You are all very good, Baron," Desmond said; "but, indeed, Ithink that Philip was right. I can assure you that the journey hasdone me an immense deal of good, and he will tell you that I amvery different, now, from what I was when he found me at Amiens,for I had begun to think that I should never get away alive."
"Do not let us stay talking here," the baron said. "Anne has hadsome soup prepared for you, under her own eyes; and that, and aglass or two of good Burgundy, will do wonders for you."
Desmond, indeed, was greatly revived, and was able to join in acheerful conversation with his hosts.
"We are both dying to hear your adventures," the baron said, "andhow you managed to escape from that jail in England, as you did,and also how it was that we met with that dreadful disaster atOudenarde. It really seems that those terrible fellows,Marlborough and Prince Eugene, are invincible."
"They are good generals, Baron. Beyond troubles with thecommanders of the forces of their allies, they are able to carryout their own plans. The Dukes of Vendome and Berwick are alsoable commanders, but they were hampered by the presence of theDuke of Burgundy, who, on several occasions, overruled theiropinions and ruined their plans. It is to him, alone, that thedefeat at Oudenarde is due. The French soldiers fought as well asever, and it was the position in which they were placed, and notthe superior fighting powers of the enemy, that caused theirdefeat."
"But how is it," the baron asked, "that with, as I hear, onehundred and ten thousand men, Vendome does not raise the siege ofLille? It seems incredible that, with so great a force, he shouldremain inactive while the enemy are carrying out their works forthe siege."
"That I cannot tell you, sir. We heard all sorts of rumours atAmiens, but it seems that Marlborough had taken up a strongposition, and entrenched himself there with seventy thousand men,while Eugene is conducting the siege operations."
"I don't understand it," the baron said, irritably. "There must bemore ways of marching to Lille than one. If one road is barred,why not advance by another? The Duke of Burgundy is not with thearmy now, so the blame cannot be put on him."
"No, sir; but Berwick's army is still, as I hear, under
hisindependent command, and the duke, excellent soldier as he is, isnot one to be easily led. If his opinion differs from that ofVendome, he would assuredly maintain it; and as his manner is notconciliatory, and his opinions are very strongly expressed, it maywell be that there are, as was rumoured at Amiens, constantdissensions between him and Vendome."
"Well, it seems to me very strange, Monsieur Kennedy, after havingduring the last reign defeated the best infantry of Spain, humbledAustria, subdued Bavaria, crushed the enemy in Italy, and shownourselves to be the best soldiers in Europe; that we should nowsuffer defeat after defeat, by an army containing men of half ascore of nationalities, though led by the greatest general thatEngland has ever produced."
"And, Baron, with English troops under him who have, for hundredsof years, shown themselves invincible!"
"Yes, yes," the baron said, hastily. "We know all about Crecy,Poitiers, and Agincourt; and how well they fought in Holland; butI thought, Kennedy, that you were the enemy of the English, andwere here with your brave countrymen to fight against them."
"Not in my case, assuredly, Baron. I came over here because thereis no opening for Irish gentlemen at home, and because only by theaid of France could our lawful king be placed on the throne. It istrue that a section of the English people, under Oliver Cromwell,not only conquered us, but divided a great portion of our landamong themselves; and, although we were again defeated by ausurping Dutch king, with the Dutch troops under his command, thatis no reason why I should feel any animosity to the people atlarge, whose qualities I admire, and the majority of whom are, intheir hearts, attached to the cause of the Stuarts, and hate thosewho are keeping the king from his throne. I own that I wouldrather that it had fallen to my lot to fight for France againstSpaniards, Germans, and Italians, than against the English."
"Did you lose many friends at Oudenarde, Monsieur Kennedy?" Anneasked.
"I lost my two greatest friends," Desmond said. "At least, I fearthat both are dead. They were the two who escaped with me from theEnglish prison. They, with Monsieur d'Eyncourt, another ofBerwick's aides-de-camp, started with me to carry orders to thetroops, who were all but surrounded by the enemy. We went bydifferent roads, to increase the chances of one of us gettingthere.
"I succeeded with but this comparatively trifling wound," and hepointed to his empty sleeve, "but none of the other three gotthrough, nor did their names appear when the lists were exchangedof the prisoners captured. Therefore, I have no doubt that allfell in the performance of their duty. We had been great friends,ever since I came out, and their loss has greatly affected me."
"You are young, and will find fresh friends," the baron said,briskly. "Do not let us dwell on the past. You have now to applyall your energy to getting strong, and if you show as much vigourin that, as in other matters, I hope that in a month's time youwill be well on the road towards complete recovery."
"I mean to try hard, Baron," Desmond said, with a smile. "If Icontinue to gain strength as quickly as I have done during thejourney, I shall certainly insist, before long, on beingconsidered convalescent."
Day by day, indeed, his strength increased. At first he wanderedabout in the park, accompanied by Philip and Anne, for the baron,although somewhat recovered from his attack of gout, still walkedwith difficulty. In a week, he again took to horse exercise, andwas ere long able to join in hunting and hawking parties.
The house was gay, for the baron, as soon as Desmond was able to takehis share in conversation, invited many of the neighbouring gentry tothe chateau, and introduced him to them as the man who had done somuch for his daughter and himself. Several entertainments were given,at which the chateau was thrown open to all comers, in honour partlyof Desmond and partly of the approaching marriage of the baron'sdaughter to Monsieur de la Vallee.
This had been arranged to take place in September. Before thattime arrived, Desmond had completely recovered his strength, andbeing now fit for service, was anxious to join. But his friendswould not hear of his departure until after the marriage; and asnews came that Lille had been captured by the allies, and it wascertain that both armies would soon go into winter quarters, andwould fight no more that year, he allowed himself to be persuadedto stay.
The siege had been one of the most terrible in history. The placewas nobly defended, and its conquest cost the allies dearly,twelve thousand being killed and wounded, and over seven thousandsuccumbing to diseases; while of the garrison, nearly seventeenthousand strong, but four thousand five hundred remained alive atthe time it capitulated. Its fall caused general consternationthroughout France, for it opened the road to Paris, and during thewinter Louis made strenuous efforts to obtain peace; but the termsdemanded by the allies were so onerous that the negotiations werebroken off.
In spite of the general distress throughout the country, thewedding was a gay one.
Desmond had written to the Duke of Berwick, who was now in Paris,saying that he was fit for duty, and would report himself at theend of the month; and, on the day before he was about to leavePointdexter, he received a reply from him.
It ran as follows:
Dear Monsieur Kennedy:
I am heartily glad to hear of your restoration to health. Imentioned you to His Majesty today, who was pleased to speak veryhighly of you.
The campaign is virtually at an end, for the present year. HisMajesty has informed me that various changes will be made in thespring. Marshal de Villars is to replace the Duke of Vendome inthe command of the northern army. The latter has been unfortunate,and misfortune on the part of a soldier is regarded as next doorto a crime. Certainly the defeat at Oudenarde was not his fault,but had he taken my advice, Lille might have been saved. Doubtlesshe was as much dissatisfied with me as I was with him, and perhapswith reason; for, as you know, I am not accustomed to mince myphrases. However, as His Majesty was pleased to say, it is evidentthat having two generals acting together, each with an independentcommand, is a mistake, and one that should not be again committed.Therefore, next spring I am to take the command of an army inDauphiny, and to check the Austrians and Italians.
He said, "If you can spare him, Duke, I should be glad if youwould let me have this young Irishman for a time. I shall promotehim to the rank of captain, for the great service he rendered incarrying, as you say, at grievous risk and with the loss of hishand, the order to the troops at Diepenbeck to scatter during thenight, thus saving me at least ten thousand of my soldiers. Ishall also settle upon him a pension of fifty louis a year, forthe loss of his hand. I will send him to Spain, having had severalcomplaints from the Duke of Orleans" (who, as you know, is now incommand there) "of the incompetence of many of his staff".
I said that, although I had found you a most zealous and usefulofficer, and had a warm regard for you, I would of course accedeto His Majesty's wishes in the matter. Enclosed in this letter isthe order for you to join the Duke of Orleans, and a privateletter from myself to the duke, giving a sketch of your servicesand exploits, which will doubtless give you, at once, a place inhis favour.
I do not think that this war will last very much longer. France iswell-nigh ruined by the sacrifices she has made, and the drainupon the allies must be almost as great. Therefore, I trust thatanother campaign will bring it to an end. If not, you may beassured that when the duke no longer requires your services--andit is probable that, after a year's campaigning, he will beheartily tired with the difficulties that he, as I did, will meetwith from the procrastination and general stupidity of theSpanish--you will be free to return to me, and I shall be glad tonumber you again among the members of my staff.
Desmond was sorry to leave the service of the duke, but consoledhimself with the hope that it would be only temporary; and theprospect of a year's campaigning, in a new country, was by nomeans displeasing to him. Therefore, after writing a suitableletter to the duke, he took leave of the Baron Pointdexter, withmany thanks for his kindness, and, attended by Mike, started forSpain.
"It's glad I am to be on the move again, Captai
n Kennedy," thesoldier said, as they rode away. "Sure, your honour, idleness isnot good for a man, especially when he has lashings of the best offood and drink. When I came to buckle on my sword belt, thismorning, I found it would not meet within three inches, and thecoatee is so tight that I feel as if I was suffocated."
"You will soon work it down again, Mike. From what I hear ofSpain, there is no fear of your getting too much food there. Roughwork and small rations are, I hear, the rule."
"I am ready for a good spell then, your honour. I hardly knowmyself now, for I am flabby and short of wind. Still, I am sorryto leave the chateau, for I have had the best time I ever had, inmy life. Everyone was mighty kind, and seemed to think that I haddone great things in helping to rescue Miss Anne, whereas I didnothing at all, except to follow you."