A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight

Part 7

Chapter 74,394 wordsPublic domain

My steed, as I have said, was the envy of the camp, and at the pace whereto I set him he soon outdistanced all the pursuers save only Lameray, who bestrode a fine roan but little less in value than my own horse. One by one the others dropt off, but he still kept within the same distance of me, and I wondered whether he would have the temerity to pursue me up to the very skirts of the camp and perchance into the arms of Biron. Glancing over my shoulder (yet careful to shield my face with my arm), I saw that a dyke I had just leapt had been too much for every one of my pursuers but him, and recollecting his insolency towards me, and the attempt on my life, and above all, his slur upon my swordsmanship, I resolved to try conclusions with him, and prove upon his body the foul traitor he was. Accordingly I put my horse at a low wall, barely clearing an unexpected ditch that lay beyond it, and reining up, wheeled about and awaited my enemy a dozen yards upon the further side. He came up at a wild and reckless pace, and, traitor though he was, I could not but admire the dexterity of his manage as he leapt the wall at the very place of my crossing. Seeing me biding for him, with no care now to shroud my countenance, he drew his sword at the moment of leaping, and came at me in a fury. But his horse lost a little speed in taking the ditch, and since I set spurs to mine as soon as Lameray's alighted, we met with a mighty shock, and my steed being lighter than his was forced back upon his haunches. In this manner I escaped the point of his sword outthrust towards me, and causing my horse to swerve, I heard Lameray's snarl of rage as he was carried a few paces beyond. In a twinkling he was about, and lifting his sword high above his head, he brought it down with a vehement stroke that, had it touched me, would assuredly have cleft my head in twain, or my arm from the shoulder. But my good steed answered perfectly to the pressure of my heel upon his flank, and swerving, saved me by a hair's breadth. And then, at the same moment that I heard a great shouting far away, I lunged swiftly, and by good hap my point entered his throat. With one dreadful sob he fell backwards over the crupper, and the traitor was no more.

It needs not to tell how Biron, with three-score of his choicest cavaliers, rode out from camp with Martigny, having lost some little time in saddling, and came full upon a portion of Lameray's troop just as they returned to the lane. The King and his little band having sallied forth, and being on the further side of them, they were shut up as in a vice, and full two-score of them were slain. Nor does it become me to relate all that King Henry said to me when he sought me out, I having ridden straight into Arques when I had taken Lameray's sword as a trophy. I might, if I chose, write myself the Baron de St Aubyn in the peerage of France, since thus royally did the King see fit to reward me; but having been born an Englishman I have no great love for outlandish titles, though, maybe, if I enjoyed a marquis's rank I might not be so squeamish. Go to my cabinet yonder; there you will find, set together in one place, a white plume, a cloak, and a sword. These the King was pleased to give me. Peradventure in years to come, when your grandsons visit you, you will set these relics in state before them, and tell over again the story of the lonely chateau and the Baron de Lameray.

*Interim*

A few days after this notable adventure, the Duke of Mayenne encamped over against Arques, and made sundry assaults upon King Henry's entrenchments, being baffled at all points. Then, hearing that new forces were drawing near from the east, and that five thousand good English soldiers were upon the sea, he withdrew himself into Picardy, the King marching close upon his heels up to the very walls of Paris, the suburbs whereof he took, and gave over to pillage. But winter coming on, he stayed not to open a siege, but withdrew to Tours, sallying forth thence when he heard that Mayenne was again afoot. Many strong places in Normandy yielded themselves up to him, and in the middle of March in the next year he gave battle to Mayenne at Ivry, where, when Fortune seemed to be turning against him, he called cheerfully upon his nobles and gentlemen, and they following him charged into the thick of the fray, his white plume waving in the midst. And among the thirty horsemen that came forth with him out of the mellay was my grandfather, who bore ever after on his neck the scar of a sword cut dealt him on that glorious day.

After this victory my grandfather accompanied the King in his march upon Paris, to which city Henry laid siege, straitly shutting it up all that summer, so that they lacked food, and devoured horses and asses, dogs and rats, and even little balls of clay and powdered bones. But the Duke of Parma coming out of the Low Countries with an army of Spaniards, the King was enforced to strike his camp and haste to meet this doughty foe. Nevertheless there was no battle betwixt them, for Henry was in no wise strong enough to match the Duke, nor indeed was he equal to him in the art of war, though none could be bolder or more daring in the field. Being therefore outdone, he drew back his forces, and the city was opened to the Spaniards, who threw into it a plenty of victuals and lifted the people out of their misery.

It were too long to tell of all the skirmishes, the marchings and countermarchings, the captures and surprises, wherein my grandfather bore his part for three years from that time. But in July 1593, the King professed himself of the Catholic faith, to the joy of the greater part of the nation, and the confusion of his enemies. City after city opened its gates to him; by the end of that year France had peace, and many of the English gentlemen that had fought for the King returned to their own country, my grandfather being among them. He told me that the main cause of his return was Queen Elizabeth's displeasure with Henry for that he had changed his religion, but it is known that the Queen nevertheless withdrew not her support from him, and methinks my grandfather himself no longer held him in the same degree of respect, for he abhorred a turncoat, and I know that he grieved because, as all men knew, the King forsook his faith without sincerity and for the mere bauble of a crown. My father was used to remind him how Naaman the Syrian bowed himself in the house of Rimmon, and is held of many to be blameless; and how King Henry did in truth by his conversion compose the French nation to peace and order; whereat my grandfather would cry, "How now! would you do ill that good may come?" and so put him to silence.

However, having returned to London, my grandfather obtained by the interest of a noble friend the promise of a place among the Queen's Guard. Yet it was some while ere he entered into this honourable office, for being sent by my Lord Burghley upon an errand to Flanders, he was led by chance, or more truly by the hand of Providence, to employ his sword in defence of the liberties of the commonweal there. The Provinces had been struggling for five and twenty years against the oppression of the Spanish King and his minions, of whom the Duke of Alva in especial left a name for iron sternness and cruelty. Like as in the case of King Henry of Navarre, Queen Elizabeth lent aid to the suffering folk; many of her chiefest men were captains in their army, and became governors of their towns, and did many right honest and praiseworthy deeds in their behoof. And among the stories that my grandfather told me, none pleased me better than this that now follows, wherein he relates a quaint and pleasant conceit that he devised for the undoing of a traitor.

*THE THIRD PART*

*CHRISTOPHER RUDD'S ADVENTURE IN THE LOW COUNTRIES, AND HIS QUAINT DEVICE OF THE SILVER SHOT*

*I*

I could wish that I had been born somewhat earlier into the world, for then I had had no cause, in these my latter years, to feel shame for my country, nor to look into the future with any disquietude. This our England stood upon a pinnacle of renown and majesty that year when the Spaniards' Armada was shattered by the winds of God and the shot of Sir Francis Drake. Queen Elizabeth went down to her grave in a blaze of glory; but in the reign of her successor the lustre of our name was dimmed. At this present the sky is black with clouds, and there is rumbling and muttering of thunder. Pray God our Ship of State may weather the imminent storm!

Chiefly I could wish to have been of an elder generation, because then I might have had a full share in that great struggle for liberty which our neighbours of the Low Countries long time maintained with stout heart against the Spaniard. I did, indeed, ply my sword in their behoof, among the voluntaries whom our queen suffered to engage in that service; but I came late to it, when a great part of the journey work was already done. Prince William, named the Silent, had fallen to the assassin's knife while I was yet at school; and by the hand of that pattern of all princely virtues the foundations of the Republic had been well and truly laid. Yet had he bequeathed a vast heritage of toil to his son, Prince Maurice, whom I must hold to be the peerless instructor of this age in the art of war. By his side I dealt many a dint for freedom, and it would need a month of talking so much as to tell over the sieges and stratagems, the ambuscades and sharp encounters, wherein I bore my part with that worthy prince. But at the very beginning of my service there befell me a noteworthy adventure which I look back upon with a certain joyous contentment; and that I will relate, craving your patience.

In the autumn of 1593 I was sent for one day to wait upon my Lord Burghley at Cecil House in the Strand. I found him exceeding sick in body, with a look of death upon his aged countenance; but his mind was sound and firm as ever, and he laid his commands upon me with all his wonted clearness and precision.

I had but lately quit the service of His Majesty of France. The Queen, my mistress, bore so ill King Henry's submission to the Roman Church as she could not endure the continuance of any of her servants in his employment. Thus I chanced to be for the nonce at large, and ready for the charge the Lord Treasurer committed to me.

Since the villainous treachery of Sir William Stanley and Sir Rowland Yorke in delivering the town of Deventer to the Spaniards, the Netherlanders had harboured a natural suspicion and distrust of the good faith of our English captains. Especially was there a present dread lest the town of Ostend should be betrayed by its English garrison. To clear our fame of this withering blight, the Queen had determined to admonish Sir Edward Norris, governor of that place, bidding him to keep a wary watch upon his captains and soldiers, to enforce them rigorously in their duty, and to hang up without remorse any that should be discovered in communication with the enemy. To this end she indited with her own hand a letter to Sir Edward, the which, together with his own formal despatch, the Lord Treasurer delivered to me for conveyance to Flanders.

This was a charge that jumped well with my inclination. I had no love for the soft air of courts or the mincing manners of a carpet knight, and having learnt from my Lord Burghley that, my errand being accomplished, the Queen would not stay me from serving Prince Maurice, I took passage very willingly in a hoy bound for Flushing, where I landed some time in the month of October.

It needs not to tell of my journey to Ostend and my meeting with Sir Edward Norris. Having delivered to him my letters, I departed as soon as with good manners I might, and, accompanied only by my servant, took my way to the camp of Sir Francis Vere, the principal general of our English levies since my Lord Leicester departed from the Low Countries. Sir Francis greeted me right boisterously, and put a troop of horse immediately at my command.

'Tis a matter well established that a man may have all the qualities of a captain and leader of men, and yet lack those higher parts that are requisite in a general. Sir Francis was in person the very image and model of a man of war. Of good stature, with a well-knit body and a princely countenance, his hair close-clipped and his brown beard spread spade-shaped upon his breast, he made a noble figure in his Milan corselet inlaid with gold and his ruff of point-lace. Bold and resolute in action, he was nevertheless heady, prone to anger, and full of whimsies, whereby in great affairs he was apt to be looked on with a certain mistrust, both in the council and in the field. I had not been long with him before I perceived that he entertained a most violent hatred and jealousy of Prince Maurice, and looked upon the Netherlanders with a sour contempt.

I learnt from him the posture of affairs in the Low Countries at that time. The Spaniards had of late taken sundry strong places of note, and were closely investing sundry others. Prince Maurice, being but ill provided, could do little towards the relief of those beleaguered towns, and while gathering strength thereto held himself mainly to the defensive. This loitering and idleness provoked Sir Francis to wrath, who would chafe and chide, and avouch that 'twould be profitable to the country if the whole breed of Nassaus were rid out of the way.

It chanced that one day I sallied forth with a handful of men towards a small city then besieged by the Spaniards, to discover if I might the strength and disposition of the enemy. For reasons that will presently appear I had liever not tell the true name of this place, but will call it Bargen.

We rode forth one misty afternoon, and picked our way not without trouble among the runnels and made watercourses wherewith that flat and marshy land abounds. Perceiving no sign of the enemy, I was tempted to approach more closely to their lines than consorted with prudence. As we rode by a narrow bridle path betwixt a patch of woodland and a field in stubble, on a sudden, from among the trees, cloaked in a measure by the mist, there sprang upon us a troop of corseleted horsemen. They had, I doubted not, got wind of my approach, and lain in wait under covert of the wood to cut me off.

Some of our fine gentlemen that showed their bravery at court were wont to boast that one Englishman was a match for five Spaniards; but such vainglorious brag is bemocked by those who, as I myself, have encountered those doughty warriors in the field. The Spaniard may be a paltry adversary on the seas, though even there I have met with some that were no mean fellows. Howbeit on land I found them valorous and redoubtable foemen, whom to despise would argue a pitiful ignorance and marvellous ill reckoning.

I had with me six or seven stout fellows, good swordsmen and well seasoned to war; but our enemy numbered a full score, who smote upon us like thunder and bore us down by sheer weight and fury. In my time I have been in many a sore strait and hazard, but never stood I in such jeopardy as when two of my men were cast headlong from their saddles and the Spaniards held the rest of us like rats in a trap. We had not time to wheel about and trust to the speed of our horses; the utmost that we could do was to back among the trees and play the man. There was a mighty clashing of steel upon armour as we gave stroke for stroke; but the enemy beset us vehemently, and had well-nigh encompassed us without hope of life, when, in the twinkling of an eye, there leapt from the depths of the wood a half-score of wild and unkempt figures, that flung themselves with exceeding heat and fury into the thick of the mellay, making marvellous quick play with their short knives, both upon the horses and the bodies of the Spaniards, at the joints of their harness.

This timely interposition put new heart into my stout fellows, who plied their swords with such manful resolution as made the Spaniards, already confused and baffled by the waspish newcomers, take thought for their safety and seek to draw out of danger. In short, within two minutes such of them as had not fallen betook themselves to flight, spurring their steeds every man in a contrary direction. My men in the fervency of victory made to pursue them; whereupon, being in no mind to be enticed further within the enemy's lines, I halloed to them loudly to refrain. They reined up and cantered back to me, save one headstrong and reckless fellow, John Temple by name, who pressed hard on the heels of the rearmost Spaniard, and was soon lost to sight beyond the confines of the wood.

Very well content with this happy issue from our troubles, I turned about to see more clearly what manner of men were those that had wrought our deliverance. Their aspect and garb bespoke them as boors of the country, for they wore rough smocks, round fur bonnets, and breeches of wondrous largeness and of a blue colour; yet they had not on their feet the wooden clogs of use and wont, but went barefoot for swiftness. I was minded to offer them some recompense for their service, and being as yet too new in the country to have gained anything of their speech, I bade one of my men, who had been long among Netherlandish folk, acquaint them with my purpose. Whereupon a young man who had hitherto held himself backward and aloof, stepped forth, and addressing me in execrable French, said--

"Sir, we covet no reward, having done that which we have done in the service of our country, and for behoof of those that serve her also."

Taking more particular note of this young man, I perceived that neither in favour nor in speech did he match the others of his company.

"Sir," said I, "we are beholden to you. I would fain know your name."

With some hesitancy he replied--

"Sir, call me Van der Kloof; 'twill serve as well as another."

I gave him a hard look, to ensure that I might know him again; but having made it a rule of conduct never to pry or meddle with matters that do not concern me, I forbore further question. Whereupon the young man told me of his own accord how that he had lain in the wood for a good while, keeping watch on the Spaniards, our late adversaries, who had come from the direction of Bargen, and were going, as he thought, towards the camp of Verdugo, the Spanish governor. I got from him sundry informations concerning matters in Bargen, though not so much as I should have liked.

The hour was now growing late, and John Temple had not yet returned. I had thought that, when he found himself without support from us, he would ride back without delay, and his continued absence made me fear for his safety. Though by his stupidity or obstinacy he deserved no better than to fall into the hands of the Spaniards, I was loth to lose any man of my charge; accordingly, we rode warily some short distance after him. But when we found him not, we turned about and made towards our own camp, only desiring Van der Kloof, if he should meet with Temple, to bid him follow hard after us.

We were within a bowshot of our camp when Temple overtook us. His horse was in a great heat and foam, and the man himself was in a sorry case, having a great gash in his cheek, his morion gone, his doublet slashed and bedabbled with blood.

"How now, sirrah!" I cried to him as he rode among us. "Art deaf, that thou didst not hear my command, or a mere addle-pate, to go alone into the midst of a host?" And I rated him very roundly, I do assure you. The man said not a whit in his proper defence, but pled that being at the very heels of a Spaniard who had dealt hardly with him in the fight, he could not endure to leave him without giving him a Roland for his Oliver. The chase was longer than his expectation; and the Spaniard, seeing him persistent, on a sudden wheeled about and met him face to face. They two fought it out, and after a long and laboursome bout, whereof Temple bore many eloquent and grievous tokens, he overcame his adversary and made his quietus.

And then he displayed before me the spoils of this engagement, to wit, a fine Toledo blade; a belt of good Cordovan leather, the pouch filled with Spanish dollars; and a jewelled ring of gold. And when I had told him that he might keep these for himself, he brought forth from under his belt a strip of paper, and put it into my hand.

"This I espied, sir," he said, "through a rent in the don's doublet, and seeing there was writing thereupon, being no scholar myself, I fished it out for your worship's perusal."

Thinking 'twas some love billet that the hapless Spaniard had worn against his heart, I was in a manner loth to take it. But I bethought myself directly after that in time of war it behoves a man to suspect all and trust none, and in this mind I spread open the paper and bent my eyes upon it. And then I was not a little discontented at the meagreness of what I read. 'Twas nothing but a table of stores, writ in the Spanish tongue: so many tubs of powder, so many chests of the same, so many spare pikes, so many double bullets for the calivers, so many bullets for the matchlocks, so many round shot for the sakers and culverins--in truth, I did not read every article, being persuaded that the fellow from whom the paper was taken was some pitiful storekeeper, a man of no account. Yet I stowed it within my doublet, from a mere habit of prudence, and rode on, telling the man Temple jestingly that my share of the booty was paltry by comparison with his.

*II*

It was dark when I came to my lodging, and learnt from my servant that Sir Francis Vere, some while before, had sent to seek me. I made haste to attend the general, whom I found alone at his supper.

"Ha, Rudd," he cried to me in his great voice, "I am glad to see thee, lad." (He was but ten years my elder, but let that pass.) "How hast fared?"

I rehearsed very shortly the particulars of my excursion, and those few matters I had learnt of the Dutchman; but held my peace as touching the paper Temple had given me, deeming that to be of no moment. Sir Francis made me compliments on my good hap in coming off with a whole skin, and then, bidding me share his meal, pushed a letter over the table towards me.

"Read that," said he, "and tell me your mind upon it."

The letter, I found, was from Prince Maurice himself, concerning Bargen, the place from before which I had even now returned. The Prince was troubled in mind about its safety. It had been some two months besieged by the Spaniards, and he was as yet unable to stir towards its relief, being himself menaced by a greater force, the which he believed to be looking for some movement on his part thitherward, with the intent to fall upon him as he marched. The city had hitherto made a good defence, but there had come to his ears rumours of a weak-kneed party in the council, and he feared lest, as the labour and hardship of the defence waxed greater, the tottering loyalty of these burghers should fail utterly, and they deliver up their city into the enemy's hands. In this strait he besought the aid of Sir Francis, requesting him to use all endeavours to save the place, chiefly by strengthening the hands of those burghers among the council that were still trusty and faithful.

"A murrain on him!" cried Sir Francis, as I set the letter down. "Why does he sit still, this Prince Do-Nothing? Did he strike a blow I would give him a mighty backing, but 'tis not in me to play the nurse, and cosset faint-hearts. He must seek another man for that job, one of his own slow Dutchmen, pardy!"