Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War by G. A. Henty (latest novels to read .txt) 📕

“This, your majesty, is the general report of the Duc d'Enghien of the events of the battle. Colonel Campbell is intrusted with the more detailed description of General Gassion. Monsieur de Caussac's despatch contains the duke's views as to the carrying on of the campaign; these he submits to the judgment of your majesty and the council.”

Cardinal Mazarin stepped forward and took the three documents.

“These we will peruse and consider at our leisure,” the queen said, “and I shall, I hope, see you at my levee this evening. In the meantime I thank you for your service in having brought the despatches so speedily here, and am well aware that the fact that you have been chosen as the messengers of the commander-in-chief is in itself a proof that your share in the battle was in the highest degree honourable.”

She graciously held out her hand, which de Penthiere and his companions, dropping upon one knee, raised to their lips, one after the other.

“You are aware of the contents of the despatches, cardinal,” the queen said when they were alone.

“Of their general scope, madam. The Prince of Conde did me the honour to call upon me at eight this morning. He had gathered a general account of the battle from the lips of that young Scottish colonel, who was the only one of the party who was capable of relating it, the others being almost speechless with fatigue, for the road from Rocroi hither is long and rough.”

“You may well say the young Scottish colonel, cardinal. He is but a youth, and it is strange indeed that he should already have attained that rank.”

“He has served for four years under the Viscount Turenne,” Mazarin said, “and must therefore have had good opportunities of distinguishing himself. Still, it is seldom indeed that any save one of royal blood or of the very highest families obtains such a rank so quickly. Turenne, however, was himself a colonel after less than four years service.”

“Yes, cardinal, but he had the advantage of belonging to the family of an almost independent sovereign.”

“Conde said that he had himself asked the young man how it was that he had won it, and he replied that it was solely due to the kindness of the Duc d'Enghien, who had been pleased to consider a small service he had rendered as worthy of recognition. It is like enough, your majesty, that we shall see his name mentioned in one of these documents. It is certain that he would not have been chosen to carry the despatches—a duty which is regarded as a reward of the most distinguished service—unless he had done something of marked importance.”

The two French officers on leaving the palace at once went off to pay their respects in the first place to the heads of their families, and afterwards to visit the various circles and coteries with which they were connected, and where they would be sure of a flattering welcome and attentive listeners. Hector, for his part, rode direct to the quarters of the colonel of the Scottish regiment. A soldier came out and took the bridle of his horse as he saluted, while a sergeant asked what name he should announce.

“Then you do not remember me, Sergeant Macfarlane?”

The soldier looked at him earnestly. “Why,” he exclaimed suddenly, “it's Hector Campbell!”

“Right enough, sergeant.”

“You have changed mightily, sir; you were but a laddie when you went away nigh four years ago. The news came to the regiment that you had been made a captain, and proud we all were. The colonel will be right glad to see you,” and he led the way into the house.

“Then the regiment has not been on service just lately?”

“We had two years on the Rhine; but we came back here last autumn. The Red Cardinal was not fond of us, but he knew that he could trust us—which is more than he could have done some of the regiments—so he had us back again; and we were not sorry, for it was but dull work there—sieges and nought else.”

He was just going to open the door of the inner room when Hector said, “You can announce me, Macfarlane, as Colonel Campbell.”

“Gude Lord,” the sergeant ejaculated, “ye dinna say that ye are a colonel?” Then reassuming with a great effort his military stiffness, he opened the door and announced in a loud tone, “Colonel Hector Campbell.”

There was an exclamation of astonishment from the colonel and two or three officers who were sitting with him.

“Why, Campbell,” the former said, coming forward and warmly shaking his hand, “you are changed indeed, and you have come back to us almost the living image of your father when he first joined.”

The officers all shook hands with him warmly, and the colonel went on, “Macfarlane announced you as colonel, Hector, but surely you cannot have gained that rank?”

“I only obtained it two days ago. You see it is a good thing to be a prince's aide-de-camp. Turenne, wishing to give me every opportunity of seeing service, sent me to Enghien with a message asking him to employ me on his staff.”

“And you were at Rocroi?” the colonel exclaimed. “What is the real news of the battle? It was given out officially last night that we had won a victory, and there are all sorts of rumours this morning in the town—they say that three officers arrived last night with full details.”

“I was one of the three, colonel; and I have just now come from the palace after handing my despatches to the queen.”

“Then it was Enghien who made you colonel?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, you must have done something marked, or you could never have got the rank. Why, he has half the young nobles of France in his train—he has not made them all colonels, I suppose?”

“No, I suppose not; but we started early the next morning, and therefore cannot say what promotions were made.”

“Still they made yours, Campbell. When did they do that?”

“Just after the fight was over.”

“Umph! and what for?”

“Well, I luckily discovered that the Spaniards had set an ambush.”

“Come, come, let us hear all about it. Tell us the whole story of the fight.”

Hector gave all the details.

“Well, it certainly seems to have been an extraordinary battle. Everyone appears to have been beaten in turn.”

“Not Enghien's command, sir.”

“Well, no; but when cavalry are repulsed three times with a loss, as you say, of nearly half their numbers, it is pretty well equivalent to a beating; and if Enghien had not been able to bring up the artillery and reserves, I take it that the third charge would have been the last. The ambush that you discovered was,