Chapter LXIV: Madame La Duchesse

Severe operations in Alsace, which luckily left me little time for reflection, followed this cavalry affair. Picardy was invaded by twenty thousand horse and ten thousand foot, all Spaniards, led by Piccolomini and Prince Thomas of Savoy. Hepburn's Scottish corps, now known as the Regiment de Douglas (their new colonel the Laird of Waughton was recently killed in Alsace), being commanded by Lord James, son of the first Marquis of Douglas, was withdrawn from the army to oppose them, and stopped their career on the banks of the Somme. I saw those gallant veterans no more; but the Scots of Ramsay and Leslie remained with us under the Duke of Weimar. The Austrians, led by Count Galias, broke into Franche Compte, but were driven back by the Vicomte de Turenne, with the loss of five thousand men; while De la Force defeated the troops of Colloredo on the Alsatian side of the Rhine, with the loss of twelve hundred slain and taken.

Moreover, to increase the general confusion and complete the ruin of Duke Charles of Lorraine, about the close of this year his friend and patron the Emperor Ferdinand II. died suddenly; and by an unexpected movement of the troops of Lavalette, the fine palace at Nanci was retaken, sacked, stripped, and destroyed; all the court of Duke Charles were dispersed or taken, and where Marie Louise found shelter, whether in a German convent near the Rhine, or at Vienna, I knew not; as in our camp we heard but little of the war in which we were engaged.

I feared at times that she might connect me with the death of Pappenheim, and conceive a repugnance for me in consequence. I shrunk from this idea, and longed to acquaint her that however great was my enmity to the Count, he did not--even on that honourable field--perish by my hand, but by the sword of a friend, who had at once avenged me, and averted a crowning act of treachery.

The Duke of Weimar turned all the energies of his combined force of French, Scots, and Swedes, to drive the Imperialists from his newly-gifted dukedom of Alsace, and with this view he invaded all the strong places. Thus, while serving with the Garde du Corps, I was at the siege of Colmar, a large town situated on the western bank of a rapid stream; there we stormed the breach into which my old acquaintance M. Schreckhorn and his petardiers fired thrice a cartouche from a mortar, which each time made a frightful slaughter among the stormers; as these cartouches are wooden cases, three inches thick, bound with marline, and hold ten iron balls of a pound each, with about four hundred musket-balls; but in spite of all opposition we took the town, which was afterwards ceded to France by the treaty of Munster in 1648, when its walls were demolished by Louis XIV.

We next assailed Hagenau, an imperial city which was defended by the Prince of Vaudemont. It is situated in the lower province, and was frequently the scene of contention, as it stands near the frontier, and was the seat of the Grand Bailiff of Alsace. While skirmishing with Colloredo's horse in the large forest near it six cuirassiers of the Garde du Corps were slain. One of these, Raynold Cheyne of Dundargle, was killed while rescuing the Chevalier Livingstone when fighting against great odds. On the night before this affair Cheyne dreamed that six soldiers bore him through a forest on their muskets; and singular to say, after receiving his mortal wound, six of Ramsay's Scots carried him thus to the rear, and he expired in their hands. His dream thus became prophetic; and we buried him with five others, who were all gallant Scottish gentlemen, under a large chestnut-tree near the bank of the Zorna. The defence of Hagenau was obstinate, and before surrendering the soldiers made a defence so resolute, 'that one of them,' says Vaudemont, 'after expending his bullets, fired all his teeth at the enemy.'

The Prince effected his escape; but after plundering the churches a gold crucifix worth three thousand pounds was sold by a Scots musketeer to a Jew for a rix-dollar and a bottle of brandy.

Then came the attack on Schlettstadt, a strong place, on one side protected by deep and swampy morasses, which, being full of willows and rushes, prevented all access. The defence was vigorous and the operations severe. Night after night we came back from the trenches to our tents as weary as if we had been rolling the stone of Sisyphus. As I seemed to exist without aim or purpose I was reckless of life, and exposed myself to so many dangers that my name was in the mouths of the whole army; and strange to say, though I was one of the stormers in three assaults, as the columns of the French 'Mercury' attest, and was honourably mentioned, too, in the despatches of the Marquis of Gordon, the Dukes of Weimar and Lavalette, I was never touched by sword or dagger, pike or bullet.

We captured Schlettstadt in the night, by means of a flying bridge across the morass; old Colonel Ramsay, with eight hundred of his Scots, led the way; our Marechal de Logis, Dundrennan, the Chevalier Livingstone d'Angoulême, and half the cuirassiers of the Guard being mingled with them on foot. The Austrians poured such a shower of round shot, shell, and grape that twice as we came near we were forced to lie flat on our faces, while the iron hail screamed and hissed over us to tear up the morass beyond; and as this fire destroyed our bridge, we had no alternative but to proceed and conquer or be hacked to pieces.

Pressing on with a loud hurrah, while the very air seemed alive with shot of every kind, rockets, and fire balls, we plunged into the ditches, placed our echelles against the bastion, and sword in hand hewed a passage in. Even after that we had to fight every inch of the way along narrow streets, full of armed men, and swept by the fire of field-pieces, levelled over barricades of fallen houses and torn-up paving stones. In this defence a young knight of Malta distinguished himself so much that our soldiers declared he was visible in twelve places at once. But as the Duke de Lavalette said, 'The Scots fought here like Hectors and the Frenchmen fought like Scots--and the place was taken in an hour;' then, like Colmar and Hagenau, it was garrisoned by troops who were afterwards blockaded by the Spaniards; but our capture was ultimately confirmed to France by the treaty of Westphalia.

On the day following the fall of Schlettstadt, while passing through a solitary street which was less encumbered by dead bodies, exploded bombs, cold shot, and fallen houses than other thoroughfares of the town, I met several groups of brawling soldiers, and found an Imperial cavalier, whose sword-arm had been broken and bound by a scarf, feebly defending himself with his poniard against five or six drunken Switzers of Lavalette's corps. Drawing my sword I drove them aside, but not until I had given one a slash across the face which cooled his ardour and alarmed his comrades. I then gave my hand to the wounded gentleman, on whose black cuirass I perceived the gilded cross of Malta, and recognised the hero of the defence.

'I was wounded by your stormers during the assault, monsieur, and concealed myself in a house, hoping that I might escape: but was discovered by these Switzers who were in search of beer and plunder. As I have now only to surrender, I yield my sword without shame, since it is given to one of the Garde du Corps Ecossais.'

'I thank you for the compliment, monsieur; but beg of you to retain your sword, and allow me to have your wound attended to.'

'Do, for pity sake--the agony I suffer is unspeakable; so much so that I did not at first recognise you, M. Blane. Do you not remember me?'

I surveyed him attentively, and said,

'We have met in Paris, perhaps?'

'Nay, monsieur, have you forgotten the night you spent at the little chapel of St. Nicolas in the Wood, near Nanci, and the narrow escape you had from the ambush formed by Pappenheim and De Bitche?--Do you remember who visited you there?'

'René, the foster-brother of Marie Louise?'

'René, the knight of Malta--yes--I am he.'

'Pardon me, my kind friend, for amid the confusion of such scenes as those of yesterday and to-day, together with your change of costume, and your paleness, it is not surprising that I did not at first recognise you. Nanci was sacked?'

'And the ducal palace destroyed.'

'Where now is duke Charles?'

'Alas! we know not.'

'Vaudemont?'

'A fugitive with the remains of his garrison on the German side of the Rhine.'

'And--and mademoiselle?

'Dear Marie Louise!' exclaimed René, as his fine eyes filled with passionate enthusiasm, while his cheek grew, if possible, paler; 'she is now Madame la Duchesse d'Alsace.'

It was now my turn to tremble and grow pale.

'Pardon me, M. René; but did I hear you aright?'

'Yes,' said he, casting down his melancholy eyes; 'she is now married--married within a week after Pappenheim, her betrothed and her abhorrence, was slain.'

'Married!' I reiterated in a whisper, for I could scarcely speak, 'to whom?'

'Monseigneur le Duc d'Alsace.'

'This duke is but a boy--a child!'

'True.'

'But this union is impossible!'

'Nothing of that kind is impossible to dukes and princes.'

'I do not understand you,' said I, considerably ruffled by a mixture of anger and agitation which I laboured in vain to conceal. 'I remember a little boy named Duke of Alsace, who accompanied Charles IV. in his procession through Nanci.'

'With his coronet borne before him by a knight of Malta--myself. Well, that little boy is now the husband of Marie Louise,' said he, with a sneer on his pale lip.

'And this espousal--' I gasped.

'Is valid and true, though Louise is nearly twenty and her spouse is not yet ten years of age.'

'Infamous and absurd!'

'Absurd as it is cruel!' added René, with deep emotion; 'but such unions and such measures are justified by the crooked policy of princes and the stern pressure of war. This child is hereditary Duke of Alsace and Lord of the nine Bailiewicks of Leichtenbourg, Baron of Landau and Lauterbourg, of Ferette and Aultkirk; consequently to unite him more closely to the crushed house of Lorraine, duke Charles his guardian--sharp, short, and decisive in everything--arranged, and in three days executed the hitherto unconceived idea of espousing his daughter, in all the bloom of beauty and of womanhood, to a sickly little child.'

'And who performed this atrocious ceremony?' I asked, through my clenched teeth.

'The most reverend Father in God, the Lord Bishop of Strasbourg,' replied René, his dark eyes flashing with irony.

'And when did this happen?'

'About two months ago. I stood by the side of Marie Louise at this sacrifice--a most cruel and wicked sacrifice it was! Yet I would rather see her the bride of this harmless little boy, than of any living man,' continued René, with an emotion that too evidently was not caused by the pain of his wound. 'Yet what is it to me--this cross is my bride?'

'And how did Louise look?'

'Oh, lovelier and paler than ever, M. Blane!'

'Did she weep?' I asked, sternly.

'No--not a tear fell from her; she was pale as marble; and when her father--cold, stern, and proud--kissed her after the cruel ceremony, and whispered gaily (for I heard him), "Mademoiselle, your spouse will grow older, so remember the ancient rhyme,

"As your wedding-ring wears,
So will your cares,'

a sickly smile flitted over her wan face; and her child-husband, who is attracted by her gentleness, and has for her all the love of a son for a mother, or of a brother for a pale and kind sad sister, clung to her robe as he left the altar by her side, confounded and perplexed by the strange ceremony in which he had borne a part so prominent; and more pleased evidently with a handsome falcon given to him by Vaudemont, than the beautiful bride just given him by God.'

'Do not say so!' I exclaimed, passionately.

'True--'tis almost blasphemous--by duke Charles then.'

Here was ample food for thought and sorrow!