Kitabı oku: «The Constable De Bourbon», sayfa 10
XVIII. SAINT-CLAUDE
At the Constable’s request he was conducted by the reiters to the fort, where he was received with all the honour due to his rank by the governor, who congratulated him most heartily on his escape, and gave him the very satisfactory intelligence that all his adherents whom he had quitted at the Chateau d’Herment – including the Seigneurs Tansannes, Du Peloux, Espinat, and Desguières – together with Lurcy, had already succeeded in reaching the Franche-Comté.
“Your highness will find them at Saint-Claude, where they are anxiously awaiting your arrival,” said the governor. “They are guests of Cardinal Labaume, Sovereign Bishop of Geneva, and are sojourning at the episcopal palace. Most of them arrived nearly a week ago, but the Seigneur Lurcy only crossed the frontier yesterday.”
“I am rejoiced to learn that Lurcy has escaped,” said Bourbon. “I have heard nothing of him, and feared he might have fallen into the hands of the king, who would have shown him no mercy.”
“That is quite certain,” replied the governor. “Your highness is no doubt aware that the Comte de Saint-Vallier, the Bishops of Autun and Puy, the Seigneurs Aimard de Prie, Pierre de Popillon, Chancellor of the Bourbonnois, Gilbert Baudemanche, and others of your partisans, have been arrested and lodged in the Conciergerie at Paris. It is said, but I know not with what truth, that the Comte de Saint-Vallier has been tortured, to wring confession from him.”
“Alas!” exclaimed Bourbon, “he is most unjustly dealt with. Of all my partisans, Saint-Vallier is the last who ought to be punished, for he endeavoured to dissuade me from my design, and yet it is on his devoted head that the tyrant seems bent on wreaking his direst vengeance. But a day of retribution is at hand. For every life sacrificed by François, I will have ten.”
“I am sorry to mar your highness’s satisfaction at a moment like the present,” said the governor, “but I could not withhold this painful news from you.”
“I thank you for giving it me, sir,” rejoined Bourbon. “The information steels my breast. As I have just said, if I cannot deliver my friends, I can avenge them. But what of the ten thousand lanz-knechts that were to be raised for me by the Comtes Furstenberg?”
“On hearing of your highness’s flight,” returned the governor, “the Comtes Furstenberg marched with their men towards the west, to join the Anglo-Flemish army in Picardy. They took several castles by the way, but I fear they have encountered serious obstacles. The last tidings received of them were, that they were retreating to Neufchâteau on the Meuse, after heavy losses.”
“Would I had been with them!” cried Bourbon. “But where are the four thousand Vaudois promised me?”
“They have returned to their own country, fearing they would get no pay,” replied the governor.
“Then I have no army in the Franche-Comté?”
“Your highness will soon raise one. When your escape is known, thousands will flock round your standard.”
With this assurance Bourbon was forced to be content. He tarried for a few hours at the fort to rest and refresh himself, and during this time both he and Pomperaut were enabled, by the governor’s aid, to make some change in their habiliments, of which they stood greatly in need.
Thus newly equipped, and attended by Hugues, who had likewise obtained fresh habiliments, they started for Saint-Claude, accompanied by an escort of twenty reiters.
As he rode along, Bourbon could not help contrasting his present position with that in which he had been so lately placed, A few hours ago, he was environed by enemies, and in danger of his life. Now he was free, and would soon be able to requite the injuries he had sustained. His exultation was damped by the thought that so many of his partisans were in the king’s hands, but this reflection only served to intensify his desire for vengeance.
On arriving at Saint-Claude, he repaired at once to the episcopal palace, and presenting himself to Cardinal Labaume, received a cordial welcome from the prelate, who was a zealous partisan of the Emperor.
After listening with great interest to Bourbon’s account of his flight, and the perils he had encountered, the Cardinal sent for Lurcy and the rest of the Constable’s adherents, and was much touched by the meeting that took place between them and their fugitive lord.
Bourbon himself was profoundly affected on beholding his devoted friends, and embraced each individually.
“This rewards me for all my suffering,” he said. “You must forgive me, my good friends, for quitting you. The step was absolutely necessary for the safety of us all. Had I not taken it, we might not be here now.”
“Your highness’s escape from so many perils is truly providential,” observed Cardinal Labaume. “Thanks should be offered to the Great Power who has so marvellously preserved you. Let us now repair to my chapel, where you can perform your devotions.”
Though a stern soldier, Bourbon was devout, and religiously believing that the hand of Heaven had been manifested in his behalf, it was with unwonted fervour that he offered up his grateful prayers at the altar of the small chapel to which he was led by the cardinal.
XIX. IN WHAT MANNER BOURBON ENTERED BESANÇON
Bourbon remained for three days at Saint-Claude, the guest of Cardinal Labaume, by whom he was entertained with princely hospitality. On the fourth day, he departed for Besançon, accompanied by all his adherents, and attended by a numerous escort of reiters, furnished for him by the cardinal. Among his suite was Hugues, who was now enrolled in his service.
Harbingers had been sent on to announce Bourbon’s visit to the ancient capital of the Franche-Comté. Preparations, therefore, for his reception had been made by the municipal authorities, who, in order to please the Emperor and mortify the King of France, had determined to treat Bourbon as a sovereign prince.
The city of Besançon, which existed in the time of the Romans, and which has been described by Cæsar himself, was a place of great strength, built on a hill, almost surrounded by the river Doubs, which here takes the form of a horse-shoe. On a rocky height, the base of which was washed by the Doubs, stood the castle, originally built by the Romans; and in later times, when Besançon was annexed to France after the peace of Nimeguen, was converted into a citadel by Vauban. From its position, this castle looked impregnable, and capable of protecting the city, but it was besieged and taken by Louis XIV. in 1660. On a plain between two branches of the Doubs, where the Roman legions had once been encamped, and which is still known as the Campus Martius, could be seen the tents of a small force of German lanz-knechts, reserved by the Emperor for the defence of the province.
On his arrival at Besançon, Bourbon was met at the foot of the old bridge across the Doubs by the burgomaster and all the civic authorities on horseback, and welcomed by them to the city. After listening to an address from the burgomaster, he was conducted across the bridge, which was lined by German lanz-knechts, into the city, amid the roar of ordnance, the braying of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the acclamations of the spectators. The picturesque old houses were decked with garlands of flowers, and hung with scrolls and banners, houses were decorated with carpets and rich stuffs, the fountains ran with wine, and the capital of the Franche-Comté had not been so festive since the time when the Emperor last visited it.
Bourbon was conducted by the burgomaster and the other magistrates to the cathedral of Saint-Jean, a noble Gothic pile, and as he dismounted at the porch, enthusiastic shouts were raised by the lanz-knechts crowding the enclosure – the interior of the sacred pile being so full that they could not obtain admittance. Thanksgivings were then offered for the deliverance of the fugitive prince from his enemies, and a Te Deum sung. At the close of these religious solemnities, Bourbon was taken to the Herrenhaus, where a grand banquet had been prepared.
All honours that could have been bestowed upon the Emperor himself was shown to the illustrious fugitive. A palatial mansion in the midst of the city, which Charles V. himself had occupied, was appropriated to him, and a numerous civic guard assigned him.
Notwithstanding this brilliant reception, Bourbon was greatly disheartened by the intelligence he received of the proceedings of his royal allies. To his mortification he learnt that the Spanish forces had been successfully held in check at Bayonne by Lautrec, while the Duke of Suffolk, who had made a descent upon the coast of Picardy, and had advanced almost within sight of Paris, had been recalled by the King of England. Moreover, a large force had been placed by François upon the frontiers of Burgundy, under the joint command of the Duke d’Alençon and the Duke de Guise, while the king himself still remained at Lyons with the army.
Bourbon had now been more than a fortnight at Besançon, burning with impatience to avenge his injuries, when despatches arrived from Spain and England. Both monarchs attributed the failure of the design to him. Had he performed his promises, the joint invasion must have been successful. But when he fled, Henry recalled his forces, and the Emperor suspended the siege of Bayonne. The King of England refused the supplies of money and artillery which Bourbon had urgently demanded of him, and the Emperor professed himself unable to send him either money or succour. Both declared that the project must be for the present abandoned.
Bourbon’s hopes of immediate revenge being thus at an end, he resolved to proceed without delay to Spain, in order to hold a personal interview with the Emperor, and, if possible, plan a campaign for the winter.
His design was to pass into Italy by way of Germany, Switzerland being then allied to France, and he proposed in the first instance to visit his cousin the Duke of Mantua. From Mantua he would proceed to Genoa, and thence embark for Spain.
While he was making preparations for his meditated journey, he was informed, one morning, that the Seigneur d’Imbaut, a gentleman belonging to the household of the King of France, furnished with a sauf conduit, had arrived at Besançon, and sought a private audience of him.
Bourbon refused a private audience, but consented to receive the envoy in the presence of his adherents. Accordingly, D’Imbaut was ushered into a great hall half filled with the civic guard, armed with halberds. At the upper end of the hall, on a chair of state, sat Bourbon, surrounded by his partisans.
After making a profound obeisance, the envoy said:
“I am the bearer of a message from my royal master the King of France. I am sent to offer to your highness a full and complete pardon for all your offences committed against his majesty and against the state, if you will engage to merit clemency by sincere repentance, and unshaken fidelity for the future.”
Here D’Imbaut paused, but Bourbon making no reply, he went on:
“As an incitement to your highness to return to your duty, the king my master graciously offers you the im mediate restitution of the whole of your possessions, which will otherwise be confiscated, the re-establishment of all the pensions of which you have been deprived, with full assurance that they shall hereafter be paid with exactitude.” He then paused for a moment, and added, “What answer shall I take from your highness to his majesty?”
“Tell the king your master,” rejoined Bourbon, sternly and haughtily, “that I have thrown off my allegiance to him, and consequently he has no power to pardon me. Tell him that he has already played me false, and that I would not trust his promise to restore me my possessions, or to continue my pensions. Tell him to confiscate my domains if he likes – I will soon have them back again.”
“I will repeat word for word what your highness has told me,” replied the envoy.
“You may depart, then,” said Bourbon.
“I have not yet done,” said D’Imbaut, assuming a different and more haughty manner; “since your highness has declared that you have thrown off your allegiance, I must, in the name of the king my master, demand your sword as Constable of France.”
Bourbon’s eyes blazed with anger at this demand, but he constrained himself.
“The king your master took that sword from me at Fontainebleau,” he said. “But I have another sword, which he shall have – when he can take it.”
“I have my answer,” said D’Imbaut.
Then looking round at the group of gentlemen, he asked:
“Messeigneurs, do you all remain obstinate in rebellion? I am enabled to offer you the king’s grace. Will none of you accept it?”
“None,” they replied, with one voice.
“A moment, sir,” said Bourbon to the envoy. “Tell the king your master, from me, his enemy, that when next we meet we shall have changed places. It will be for him to sue for pardon.”
Charged with this defiant message, D’Imbaut departed.
END OF THE SECOND BOOK
BOOK III. – THE CHEVALIER BAYARD
I. HOW THE COMTE DE SAINT-VALLIEr’s PARDON WAS OBTAINED
On learning that his offer had been scornfully rejected by Bourbon, as related in the preceding chapter, François I. at once ordered the Chancellor Duprat to confiscate the whole of the fugitive’s possessions, to degrade him from his rank, and declare his name infamous; to efface his armorial bearings, and his swords as Constable from all his châteaux; to demolish in part his magnificent hôtel in Paris, and strew the ground with salt; and to cause the public executioner to sully with yellow ochre such portion of the building as should be left standing, in order that it might remain as a memento of the duke’s treason.
Thus did the infuriated king wreak his vengeance upon the enemy who was beyond his grasp. For a time, François remained at Lyons, fearing that Bourbon might raise an army in the Franche-Comté and march into France, and entirely abandoning his design of proceeding to Italy, began to adopt vigorous measures for the defence of his own kingdom. He despatched the Duc de Vendôme and Chabot to Paris to watch over the defence of the capital, and ordered the grand seneschal of Normandy, De Brézé, to raise six thousand men in that province. His apprehensions, however, were relieved by the retirement of the English army, and by the withdrawal of the Emperor’s forces from before Bayonne.
Tired at last of his sojourn at Lyons, yet indisposed to return to Paris, François proceeded to Blois, and in the magnificent chateau, which he had partially rebuilt in the style of the Renaissance, sought to banish his cares by abandoning himself to pleasurable enjoyment; passing his days in the chase, and his nights in festivity. Amidst all his distractions, he could not banish from his breast the image of the fair Diane de Poitiers. The violent passion he had conceived for her still possessed him, though months had flown by since he had seen her.
The king was at Blois when a messenger arrived from the chief president of the Parliament, De Selve, to acquaint his majesty with the judgment pronounced upon the principal personages connected with Bourbon’s conspiracy.
“First in regard to the nineteen accomplices of Charles de Bourbon, who have followed their rebellious lord in his flight from the kingdom,” said the messenger. “These contumacious rebels are all condemned to death, and, if taken, that sentence will be immediately carried into effect upon them. In the case of Lurcy, whose guilt is held to be greater than that of the others, the sentence is that his head shall be exposed on the bridge over the Rhone at Lyons.”
“Pass on from the fugitives to the traitors who are in our power,” said the king. “How have they been dealt with? – with due severity, I trust.”
“The Bishop of Puy has been liberated, sire,” replied the messenger, “but the Bishop of Autun is to be deprived of his possessions, and detained a prisoner during your majesty’s pleasure.”
“Why should more clemency be shown to one prelate than to the other?” said François. “Both are equally guilty, methinks! Proceed.”
“Desguières and Bertrand Simon are condemned to make amende honorable, and to be imprisoned for three years in any castle your majesty may appoint,” said the messenger. “D’Escars is adjudged to the torture; Gilbert de Baudemanche is sentenced to a brief imprisonment; and Sainte-Bonnet is acquitted.”
“And what of Saint-Vallier?” demanded the king.
“Sire, he is to be deprived of his possessions, to be degraded from his rank, to be put to the torture, and afterwards beheaded at the Place de Grève.”
“A just and proper sentence,” remarked François. “All the others should have been served in like manner.”
“It rests with your majesty to appoint the day for Saint-Vallier’s execution,” said the messenger.
“I will think of it,” replied François. And the messenger quitted the presence.
Shortly afterwards, another messenger arrived, bringing a letter from the Duchesse d’Angoulême to the king, her son, in which she urged him not to show any clemency to Saint-Vallier. “Be firm on this point,” she wrote. “Too much leniency has been shown towards the conspirators by the Parliament, and if a severe example be not made of some of them, it will be an incitement to rebellion. Strong efforts, I know, will be made to induce you to pardon Saint-Vallier, but do not yield to the solicitations. The Chancellor Duprat concurs with me in opinion.”
“Shall I take back an answer from your majesty?” said the messenger.
“Say to her highness that I will attend to her counsel,” replied the king, dismissing the messenger.
Somewhat later in the day, while the king was still in his chamber he was informed by an usher that the Comtesse de Maulévrier had just arrived at the château, and besought an immediate interview with him.
François at once granted the request, and Diane de Poitiers was ushered into his presence. Her lovely features bore traces of profound affliction. At a sign from the king, the usher immediately withdrew, and left them alone.
“You will readily divine my errand, sire,” cried Diane, throwing herself on her knees before him, in spite of his efforts to prevent her. “You know that my unfortunate father has been condemned by the Parliament to torture and to death by the headsman’s hand. Have compassion on him, sire – spare him – for my sake!”
“Rise, Diane, and listen to me,” said François. “My heart prompts me to yield to your solicitations, but, were I to do so, my clemency would be misconstrued. The Comte de Saint-Vallier having been found guilty of lèse-majesté and rebellion by the solemn tribunal at which he has been placed, I am compelled to confirm the sentence passed upon him. Bourbon’s revolt has steeled my breast to pity. Your father was the traitor’s chief friend and counsellor.”
“As such, sire, he strove to dissuade the duke from his design,” she cried.
“The Parliament can have had no proof of that beyond your father’s affirmation,” said the king. “On the contrary, they believe him to be deeper dyed in treason than the rest of the conspirators.”
“My father’s judges have been unjust, sire,” she rejoined; “but I see it is in vain to convince you of his innocence. You are determined to wreak your vengeance upon him, in order that the blow may be felt by Bourbon. The answer you have given me is little in accordance with your former language.”
“You ask what I cannot grant, Diane. Why torture me thus?”
“I will torture you no more. Adieu, sire! I quit your presence never to re-enter it.”
“Stay, Diane,” he cried, detaining her. “I cannot part with you thus. You know how passionately I love you.”
“I find it impossible to reconcile your professions with your conduct, sire. As for myself, if I have ever felt love for you, I will tear it from my heart.”
“Then you confess that you have loved me, Diane? You never owned as much before. Nay, to speak truth, I fancied from the coldness of your manner that you were insensible to my passion.”
“It matters little now what my feelings have been towards you, sire,” she rejoined. “But if it will pain you to know the truth, I will not hide it. I did love you – love you passionately. But I hate you now – ay, hate you as a tyrant.”
“No, no, you do not, cannot hate me,” he cried. “It is impossible to resist your influence. You have conquered. I yield,” he added, kneeling to her. “Say that you love me still, and I will grant your request.”
“Your majesty has already extorted the avowal from me,” she rejoined. “I thought you had crushed the feeling, but I find it still survives. Promise me my father’s life, and all the love my heart has to bestow shall be yours.”
“I do promise it,” he replied, clasping her in his arms. “The Comte de Saint-Vallier ought to rejoice that he has so powerful an advocate. None but yourself could have saved him. I had fully determined on his death.”
“Mistake not my father, sire,” she rejoined. “He would not accept pardon from you if he knew how it was purchased. Dread of dishonour made him join with Bourbon.”
“Think no more of that,” said François, passionately. “I care not to inquire into his motives for rebellion, since I design to pardon him. But I account it worse than treason that he should forbid you to love me.”
“Enough of this, sire. I must crave leave to depart. I shall never feel easy till I know that my father is safe. Let me return to Paris with his pardon.”
“A messenger is here from the first president,” replied François. “He shall take back the warrant.”
“I can trust it to no custody but thy own,” said Diane. “You will not refuse me this, sire?”
“I have said that I can refuse you nothing, sweet Diane,” he rejoined. “But you will come back soon?”
“As soon as I have set my father free,” she rejoined. “Stay, Diane. I must not deceive you,” said François, somewhat gravely. “I cannot order your father’s immediate liberation. He must remain a prisoner for a time.”
“You will not belie your royal word, sire?” she cried. “You do not mean to play me false?”
“I will liberate the Comte de Saint-Vallier ere long, and bestow a full pardon on him – foi de gentilhomme!” said the king. “For the present, I can merely commute his sentence into imprisonment. But that is tantamount to pardon.”
“Since your majesty gives me that assurance, I am content,” said Diane. “But let me have the warrant.” François at once sat down at a table, and tracing a few lines on a sheet of paper, signed the despatch, and gave it to her. “This letter to the Chancellor Duprat will accomplish all you desire,” he said. “Your father is in no danger of torture or the headsman’s axe. He will be sent to the Château de Loches. But he will soon be liberated. Are you content?”
“I must be, sire,” said Diane, as she took the letter. “I shall fly with the missive to Paris.”
“Return as quickly as you can,” said François. “Were it possible, you should bring the Comte dc Saint-Vallier with you.”
“He would rather remain in his dungeon than accompany me,” she rejoined. “Adieu, sire.”
And, quitting the cabinet, she entered her litter, and proceeded towards Paris.
