Kitabı oku: «The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars», sayfa 19
Vendome had received information of the march of the column, and detached Monsieur de la Mathe with 20,000 men to intercept the convoy. At five in the evening the force approached the wood, through which the convoy was then filing. Webb posted his men in the bushes, and when the French–confident in the great superiority of numbers which they knew that they possessed–advanced boldly, they were received by such a terrible fire of musketry, poured in at a distance of a hundred yards, that they fell into confusion. They, however, rallied, and made desperate efforts to penetrate the wood, but they were over and over again driven back, and after two hours' fighting they retired, leaving the convoy to pass on in safety to the camp.
In this glorious action 8000 English defeated 20,000 French, and inflicted on them a loss of 4000 killed and wounded. Several fresh assaults were now made, and gradually the allies won ground, until, on the eve of the grand assault, Marshal Boufflers surrendered the town, and retired with the survivors of the defenders into the citadel, which held out for another month, and then also surrendered. In this memorable siege, the greatest–with the exception of that of Sebastopol–that has ever taken place in history, the allies lost 3632 men killed, 8322 wounded, in all 11,954; and over 7000 from sickness. Of the garrison, originally 15,000 strong, and reinforced by the 1800 horsemen who made their way through the allied camp, but 4500 remained alive at the time of the final capitulation.
Marshall Boufflers only surrendered the citadel on the express order of Louis the 14th not to throw away any more lives of the brave men under him. At the time of the surrender the last flask of powder was exhausted, and the garrison had long been living on horseflesh.
After Lille had fallen, Marlborough, by a feint of going into winter quarters, threw the French generals off their guard; and then by a rapid dash through their lines fell upon Ghent and Bruges, and recaptured those cities before Vendome had time to collect and bring up his army to save them.
Then ended one of the most remarkable campaigns in the annals of our own or any other history.
Chapter 24: Adele
"My dear, dear lad," the Marquis of Pignerolles said, as he made his way with Rupert back out of the throng in the captured outwork; "what miracle is this? I heard that you had died at Loches."
"A mistake, as you see," Rupert laughed. "But I shall tell you all presently. First, how is mademoiselle?"
"Well, I trust," the marquis said; "but I have not heard of her for eighteen months. I have been a prisoner in the Bastille, and was only let out two months since, together with some other officers, in order to take part in the defence of Lille. Even then I should not have been allowed to volunteer, had it not been that the Duc de Carolan, Adele's persecutor, was killed; and his Majesty's plans having been thus necessarily upset, he was for the time being less anxious to know what had become of Adele."
"In that case you have to thank me for your deliverance," Rupert said; "for it was I who killed monsieur le duc, and never in my life did I strike a blow with a heartier goodwill."
"You!" the marquis exclaimed in astonishment; "but I might have guessed it. I inquired about his death when I reached Lille, and was told by an officer who was there that he was killed in an extraordinary combat, in which General Mouffler, a trooper, and himself were put hors de combat in sight of the whole army, by a deserter of demoniacal strength, skill, and activity. I ought to have recognized you at once; and no doubt should have done so, had I not heard that you were dead. I never was so shocked, dear boy, in all my life, and have done nothing but blame myself for allowing you to run so fearful a risk."
On arriving at the camp Rupert presented his prisoner to the Duke of Marlborough, who having, when Rupert rejoined, heard the story of his discovery in the Marquis de Pignerolles of his old friend Monsieur Dessin, received him with great kindness, and told him that he was free to go where he liked until arrangements could be made for his exchange. Rupert then took him to his tent, where they sat for many hours talking.
Rupert learned that after his escape from Lille the marquis was for three weeks confined to his bed. Before the end of that time a messenger brought him a letter from Adele, saying that she was well and comfortable. When he was able to travel he repaired at once to Versailles; having received a peremptory order from the king, a few days after Rupert left, to repair to the court the instant he could be moved. He found his Majesty in the worst of humours; the disappearance of Adele had thwarted his plan, and Louis the 14th was not a man accustomed to be baulked in his intentions. The news of Rupert's escape from Lille had further enraged him, as he connected it with Adele's disappearance; and the fact that the capture of Rupert had thrown no light upon Adele's hiding place had still further exasperated him.
He now demanded that the marquis should inform him instantly of her place of concealment. This command the marquis had firmly declined to comply with. He admitted that he could guess where she would take refuge; but that as he sympathized with her in her objection to the match which his Majesty had been pleased to make for her, he must decline to say a word which could lead to her discovery. Upon leaving the king's presence he was at once arrested, and conveyed to the Bastille.
Imprisonment in the Bastille, although rigorous, was not, except in exceptional cases, painful for men of rank. They were well fed and not uncomfortably lodged; and as the governor had been a personal friend of the marquis previous to his confinement, he had been treated with as much lenity as possible. After he had been a year in prison, the governor came to his room and told him that Rupert had been drowned by the overflowing of the moat at Loches, and that if therefore his daughter was, as it was believed, actuated by an affection for the Englishman in refusing to accept the husband that the king had chosen for her, it was thought that she might now become obedient. He was therefore again ordered to name the place of her concealment.
The marquis replied that he was not aware that his daughter had any affection for Rupert beyond the regard which an acquaintance of many years authorized; and that as he was sure the news would in no way overcome her aversion to the match with the Duc de Carolan, he must still decline to name the place where he might suspect that she had hidden herself.
He heard nothing more for some months; and then the governor told him privately that the duke was dead, and that as it was thought that Lille would be besieged, two or three other officers in the Bastille had petitioned for leave to go to aid in the defence. Had the duke still lived, the governor was sure that any such request on the part of the marquis would have been refused. As it was, however, his known military skill and bravery would be so useful in the defence, that it was possible that the king would now consent. The marquis had therefore applied for, and had received, permission to go to aid in the defence of Lille.
Rupert then told his story, which excited the wonder and admiration of the marquis to the highest point. When he concluded, he said:
"And now, monsieur le marquis, I must say what I have never said before, because until I travelled with her down to Poitiers I did not know what my own feelings really were. Then I learned to know that which I felt was not a mere brotherly affection, but a deep love. I know that neither in point of fortune nor in rank am I the equal of mademoiselle; but I love her truly, sir, and the Chace, which will some day be mine, will at least enable me to maintain her in comfort.
"Monsieur le marquis, may I ask of you the hand of your daughter?"
"You may indeed, my dear Rupert," the marquis said warmly, taking his hand. "Even when in England the possibility that this might some day come about occurred to me; and although then I should have regretted Adele's marrying an Englishman, yet I saw in your character the making of a man to whom I could safely entrust her happiness. When we met again, I found that you had answered my expectation of you, and I should not have allowed so great an intimacy to spring up between you had I not been willing that she should, if she so wished it, marry you.
"I no longer wish her to settle in France. After what I have seen of your free England, the despotism of our kings and the feudal power of our nobles disgust me, and I foresee that sooner or later a terrible upheaval will take place. What Adele herself will say I do not know, but imagine that she will not be so obstinate in refusing to yield to the wishes of her father as she has been to the commands of her king.
"But she will not bring you a fortune, Rupert. If she marries you, her estates will assuredly be forfeited by the crown. They are so virtually now, royal receivers having been placed in possession, but they will be formally declared forfeited on her marriage with you. However, she will not come to you a dowerless bride. In seven years I have laid by sufficient to enable me to give her a dowry which will add a few farms to the Chace.
"And now, Rupert, let us to sleep; day is breaking, and although your twenty-three years may need no rest, I like a few hours' sleep when I can get them."
Upon the following day the conversation was renewed.
"I think, Rupert, that my captivity is really a fortunate one for our plans. So long as I remained in France my every movement would be watched. I dared not even write to Adele, far less think of going to see her. Now I am out of sight of the creatures of Louis, and can do as I please.
"I have been thinking it over. I will cross to England. Thence I will make my way in a smuggler's craft to Nantes, where the governor is a friend of mine. From him I will get papers under an assumed name for my self and daughter, and with them journey to Poitiers, and so fetch her to England."
"You will let me go with you, will you not?" Rupert exclaimed. "No one can tell I am not a Frenchman by my speech, and I might be useful."
"I don't know, Rupert. You might be useful, doubtless, but your size and strength render you remarkable."
"Well, but there are big Frenchmen as well as big Englishmen," Rupert said. "If you travel as a merchant, I might very well go as your serving man, and you and I together could, I think, carry mademoiselle in safety through any odds. It will not be long to wait. I cannot leave until Lille falls, but I am sure the duke will give me leave as soon as the marshal surrenders the city, which cannot be very many days now; for it is clear that Vendome will not fight, and a desperate resistance at the end would be a mere waste of life."
So it was arranged, and shortly afterwards Rupert took his friend Major Dillon into his confidence. The latter expressed the wildest joy, shook Rupert's hand, patted him on the back, and absolutely shouted in his enthusiasm. Rupert was astonished at the excess of joy on his friend's part, and was mystified in the extreme when he wound up:
"You have taken a great load off my mind, Rupert. You have made Pat Dillon even more eternally indebted to you than he was before."
"What on earth do you mean, Dillon?" Rupert asked. "What is all this extraordinary delight about? I know I am one of the luckiest fellows in the world, but why are you so overjoyed because I am in love?"
"My dear Rupert, now I can tell you all about it. I told you, you know, that in the two winters you were away I went, at the invitation of Mynheer van Duyk, to Dort; in order that he might hear whether there was any news of you, and what I thought of your chance of being alive, and all that; didn't I?"
"Yes, you told me all that, Dillon; but what on earth has that got to do with it?"
"Well, my boy, I stopped each time something like a month at Dort, and, as a matter of course, I fell over head and ears in love with Maria van Duyk. I never said a word, though I thought she liked me well enough; but she was for ever talking about you and praising you, and her father spoke of you as his son; and I made sure it was all a settled thing between you, and thought what a sly dog you were never to have breathed a word to me of your good fortune. If you had never come back I should have tried my luck with her; but when you turned up again, glad as I was to see you, Rupert, I made sure that there was an end of any little corner of hope I had had.
"When you told me about your gallivanting about France with a young lady, I thought for a moment that you might have been in love with her; but then I told myself that you were as good as married to Maria van Duyk, and that the other was merely the daughter of your old friend, to whom you were bound to be civil. Now I know you are really in love with her, and not with Maria, I will try my luck there, that is, if she doesn't break her heart and die when she hears of the French girl."
"Break her heart! Nonsense, man!" Rupert laughed. "She was two years older than I was, and looked upon me as a younger brother. Her father lamented that I was not older, but admitted that any idea of a marriage between us was out of the question. But I don't know what he will say to your proposal to take her over to Ireland."
"My proposal to take her over to Ireland!" repeated Dillon, in astonishment. "I should as soon think of proposing to take her to the moon! Why, man, I have not an acre of ground in Ireland, nor a shilling in the world, except my pay. No; if she will have me, I'll settle down in Dort and turn Dutchman, and wear big breeches, and take to being a merchant."
Rupert burst into a roar of laughter.
"You a merchant, Pat! Mynheer van Duyk and Dillon! Why, man, you'd bring the house to ruin in a year. No, no; if Maria will have you, I shall be delighted; but her fortune will be ample without your efforts–you who, to my positive knowledge, could never keep your company's accounts without the aid of your sergeant."
Dillon burst out laughing, too.
"True for you, Rupert. Figures were never in my line, except it is such a neat figure as Maria has. Ah, Rupert! I always thought you a nice lad; but how you managed not to fall in love with her, though she was a year or so older than yourself, beats Pat Dillon entirely. Now the sooner the campaign is over, and the army goes into winter quarters, the better I shall be pleased."
It was a dark and squally evening in November, when La Belle Jeanne, one of the fastest luggers which carried on a contraband trade between England and France, ran up the river to Nantes. She had been chased for twelve hours by a British war ship, but had at last fairly outsailed her pursuers, and had run in without mishap. On her deck were two passengers; Maitre Antoine Perrot, a merchant, who had been over to England to open relations with a large house who dealt in silks and cloths; and his servant Jacques Bontemps, whose sturdy frame and powerful limbs had created the admiration of the crew of the Belle Jeanne.
An hour later the lugger was moored against the quay, her crew had scattered to their homes, and the two travellers were housed in a quiet cabaret near, where they had called for a private room.
Half an hour later Maitre Perrot left the house, inquired the way to the governor's residence, left a letter at the door, and then returned to the cabaret. At nine o'clock a cloaked stranger was shown into the room. When the door was closed he threw off his hat and cloak.
"My dear marquis, I am delighted to see you; but what means this wild freak of yours?"
"I will tell you frankly, de Brissac."
And the Marquis de Pignerolles confided to the Count de Brissac his plan for getting his daughter away to England.
"It is a matter for the Bastille of his most Christian Majesty, should he learn that I have aided you in carrying your daughter away; but I will risk it, marquis, for our old friendship's sake. You want a passport saying that Maitre Antoine Perrot, merchant of Nantes, with his servant, Jacques Bontemps. is on his way to Poitiers, to fetch his daughter, residing near that town, and that that damsel will return with him to Nantes?"
"That is it, de Brissac. What a pity that it is not with us as in England, where every man may travel where he lists without a soul asking him where he goes, or why."
"Ah! Well, I don't know," said the count, who had the usual aristocratic prejudice of a French noble of his time. "It may suit the islanders of whom you are so fond, marquis, but I doubt whether it would do here. We should have plotters and conspirators going all over the country, and stirring up the people."
"Ah! Yes, count; but if the people had nothing to complain of, they would not listen to the conspirators. But there, I know we shall never agree about this. When the war is over you must cross the channel, and see me there."
"No, no," de Brissac said, laughing. "I love you, de Pignerolles, but none of the fogs and mists of that chilly country for me. His Majesty will forgive you one of these days, and then we will meet at Versailles."
"So be it," the marquis said. "When Adele's estates have been bestowed upon one of his favourites, he will have no reason for keeping me in exile; but we shall see."
"You shall have your papers without fail tomorrow early, so you can safely make your preparations. And now goodbye, and may fortune attend you."
It was not until noon next day that Maitre Perrot and his servant rode out from Nantes, for they had had some trouble in obtaining two horses such as they required, but had at last succeeded in obtaining two animals of great strength and excellent breeding. The saddle of Maitre Perrot had a pillion attached behind for a lady, but this was at present untenanted.
Both travellers carried weapons, for in those days a journey across France was not without its perils. Discharged soldiers, escaped serfs, and others, banded together in the woods and wild parts of France; and although the governors of provinces did their best to preserve order, the force at their command was but small, as every man who could be raised was sent to the frontier, which the fall of Lille had opened to an invading army.
Until they were well beyond Nantes, Rupert rode behind the marquis, but when they reached the open country he moved up alongside.
"I do not know when I have enjoyed a week so much as the time we spent at the Chace, Rupert. Your grandfather is a wonderful old man, as hard as iron; and your lady mother was most kind and cordial. She clearly bore no malice for my interference in her love affair some years ago."
"Upon the contrary," Rupert said. "I am sure that she feels grateful to you for saving her from the consequences of her infatuation."
Six days later, the travellers rode into Poitiers. They had met with no misadventure on the way. Once or twice they had met parties of rough fellows, but the determined bearing and evident strength of master and man had prevented any attempt at violence.
The next morning they started early, and after two hours' riding approached the cottage where Adele had for two years lived with her old nurse. They dismounted at the door.
"Go you in, sir," said Rupert. "I will hold the horses. Your daughter will naturally like best to meet you alone."
The marquis nodded, lifted the latch of the door, and went in. There was a pause, and then he heard a cry of "Father!" just as the door closed. In another instant it opened again, and Margot stole out, escaping to leave her mistress alone with her father.
She ran down to the gate, looked at Rupert, and gave a little scream of pleasure, leaping and clapping her hands.
"I said so, monsieur. I always said so. 'When monsieur le marquis comes, mademoiselle, you be sure monsieur l'Anglais will come with him.'"
"And what did mademoiselle used to say?"
"Oh, she used to pretend she did not believe you would. But I knew better. I knew that when she said, over and over again, 'Is my father never coming for me?' she was thinking of somebody else. And are you come to take her away?"
Rupert nodded.
The girl's face clouded.
"Oh, how I shall miss her! But there, monsieur, the fact is–the fact is–"
"You need not pretend to be shy," Rupert said, laughing. "I can guess what 'the fact is.' I suppose that there is somebody in your case too, and that you are just waiting to be married till mademoiselle goes."
Margot laughed and coloured, and was going to speak, when the door opened, and the marquis beckoned him in.
"Mr. Holliday," he said, as Rupert on entering found Adele leaning on her father's shoulder, with a rosy colour, and a look of happiness upon her face. "I have laid my commands upon my daughter, Mademoiselle Adele de Pignerolles, to receive you as her future husband, and I find no disposition whatever on her part to defy my authority, as she has that of his Majesty.
"There, my children, may you be happy together!"
So saying, he left the room, and went to look after the horse, leaving Adele and Rupert to their new-found happiness.
