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Agnes Sorel

<h4>CHAPTER XLV.</h4> This is not a book of battles and sieges--those fire-works of history which explode with a brief space of brilliant light, and leave nothing but dust, and tinder, and darkness. The man who gave an account of the three great battles of the world, and explained that he meant those which had permanently affected the destinies of the human race, probably named three too many. There is nothing so insignificant as a battle. The invention of the steam-engine was worth a thousand of the greatest victories that ever were achieved. This is no hook of battles and sieges, and, therefore, I will pass over lightly the events of the two succeeding days. Suffice it, the counts of Richmond, Clermont, and Marche pressed the Castle of Bourges with all the means and appliances they could command. They attacked it from the country side; they attacked it from the city; they assailed the gates and barriers sword in hand; they endeavored to escalade the walls; but they were met at every point with stern and determined resistance, and though by no means well prepared for defense, the château held out; the besiegers lost many men, and gained nothing. In the midst of these scenes, Jean Charost was not inactive. Now on the walls, now at the barricades, and now quietly sitting in the high upper chamber of the round tower, with Agnes, and his mother, and their maids plying the busy silk with trembling fingers, he tried to give encouragement to the soldiery, and to restore confidence and calmness to the women. There was something in his aspect, something in the perfect serenity of his look and manner, in the absence of every sign of agitation and anxiety on his face, which was not without its effect, and the news which he brought of the speedy coming of the King of France to the relief of his faithful vassals besieged in Bourges afforded bright hope and expectation. The services of himself and those whom he brought were great to the defenders of a citadel too large for the numbers it contained; and his quiet, unassuming bravery, his activity and ready presence of mind, won for him that respect which pretension, even well founded, could not have gained. "I always knew he would make a good soldier," said Juvenel de Royans, somewhat proud of his friendship and their long companionship; and Blondel himself, one of the first knights of France, admitted that he had never seen a clearer head or stronger hand exercised in the hour of danger. At first sight, it may seem strange to say that the news of the king's march, which brought hope and relief to the whole garrison--and, in one sense, to himself also--filled him, when considered in another point of view, with grief and alarm. But when Jean Charost considered what must necessarily be the consequence--at a moment when more than one half of France was in possession of a foreign invader, and the first vassal of the crown in arms against his sovereign--of an actual struggle between the monarch in person, and three of those who had been his chief supporters, his heart sunk as he thought, what might be the fate of France. During many a moment throughout the first and second day, when a pause took place in the attack, he meditated somewhat sadly of these things; but he was not a man only to meditate, without action; and toward evening he took De Blondel aside to confer with him as to what was to be done. A few words presented the subject to the mind of the other in the same light in which it appeared to himself, and he then said, "I wish you very much to consider this, Monsieur De Blondel, as I think an opportunity is afforded you of rendering great service to France. Were I in your place, I would open negotiations at once with the constable, and represent to him the consequences that are likely to ensue. It would be no slight honor to you if you could induce him to cease the attack, and draw off his forces, even before the king appears, and little less if you could commence a negotiation which might be carried on after his majesty's arrival, and heal these unhappy dissensions." "By the Lord," cried Blondel, "if I were the king, I would have the head of every one of them, who by his insolent ambition and rebellious spirits gives strength to the arm of our foreign adversary, and takes away the strength of France. Nevertheless, I suppose he is obliged to temporize. But there are many difficulties in the way, my good friend. You are a negotiator, I am told, as well as a soldier. I know nothing of such things, and should only make a blunder. I should never know how to use the knowledge we possess of the king's coming without betraying the secret to the enemy." "Well, leave it to me," said De Brecy. "I will act in your name." De Blondel mused for a minute. "On the condition," he said, at length, "that there is no talk of surrendering the castle; and also that you say nothing of the king's movements till he is actually in sight. But who will you get to go? On my life, the task is somewhat perilous; for Richmond is just the man either to hang any one who pretends to oppose his will, or drown him in a sack, as he did Giac." "I will go," replied De Brecy. "I have no fear. The constable is violent, haughty, domineering; but at heart he has a sincere love for France, a bitter hatred of the English, and devotion to the royal cause. Giac he scorned, as well as hated; and besides, Giac stood in his way. Me he neither scorns nor hates, nor wishes to remove. By your leave, I will send out for a safe-conduct by a flag of truce, and you shall give me a general authority to treat, though, of course, not to conclude." De Blondel was easily led in such matters. A good soldier and a gallant man, he commanded skillfully and fought well; but his political views were not very far-sighted, and he was one of those persons who fancy they save themselves half the trouble of decision by looking only at one side of a question. The authority was given as amply as Jean Charost desired, and nearly in words of his own dictation: a flag of truce was sent out to demand a pass for the Seigneur De Brecy, in order to a conference with the lord constable, and the bearer speedily returned with the paper required, reporting that he had remarked much satisfaction among the rebel leaders at the message which he had carried them, in which they doubtless saw an indication of some intention to capitulate. A slight degree of agitation was apparent upon Blondel's face, as Jean Charost, divested of his harness, and armed only with sword and dagger, prepared to set out upon his enterprise. "I do not half like to let you go, sir knight," he said. "This Richmond is a very furious fellow. There is no knowing what he may do." "I do not fear," repeated Jean Charost. "But, in case of any accident, De Blondel, I trust in your honor and your kindness to protect the ladies whom I leave here with you. They have some thirty or forty men with them who would each shed the last drop of his blood in their defense; but the honor of a knight, and that knight De Blondel, is a surer safeguard than a thousand swords." The gates of the castle were soon passed; and the first barricade which the assailants had raised in the Rue du Château was reached without question. Some half dozen men were lying on a pile of straw behind, lighted by a solitary lantern; but two of them started up immediately, and, though neither of them could read a word of the pass, they both seemed to have been previously informed of what they had to do; for they insisted upon bandaging De Brecy's eyes, and leading him on blindfold, as if conducting him through the works of a regular fortress. He submitted with a smile; for he knew every step of the city of Bourges from his childhood, and could almost tell every house that they passed as he was led along. The tread of the broad stone sill of the gateway where they at length stopped was quite familiar to him; and it was without surprise that, on the bandage being removed, he found himself in the court-yard of his old friend Jacques Cœur. Conducted up a narrow stair-case, in one of the congregation of square towers, of which the building principally consisted, he was introduced into a small, but very tall cabinet, lined with gilt leather hangings. In the midst stood a table, with three gentlemen surrounding it, and a lamp, swinging overhead and showing a mass of papers on the board, the stern, square-cut head of the constable bent over them, the mild and rather feeble expression of the Count La Marche, and the sharp, supercilious face of the Count of Clermont. "Here is Monsieur De Brecy, I presume," said the latter, addressing Richmond. The constable started up, and held out his hand frankly, saying, "Welcome, welcome, De Brecy. Sit down. There's a stool. Well," he continued, as soon as the guard was gone, and the door closed, "what cheer in the castle?" "Very good cheer, my lord," replied De Brecy. "We have not yet finished the pullets, and horse-flesh is afar off." The Count La Marche laughed; but Richmond exclaimed, somewhat impatiently, "Come, let us to the point. You are frank and free usually, De Brecy. Say what terms of capitulation you demand, and you shall speedily have my answer." "You mistake my object altogether, my lord," replied De Brecy. "The castle is less likely to capitulate than when first you sat down before it. There are now men enough within to defend it for a month against five times your force, unless you shoot better than you have done these last two days; and we have provisions for some months, as well for our own mouths as for those of the culverins." "Then, in the devil's name, what did you come here for?" exclaimed Richmond, angrily. "Upon business, my lord," replied De Brecy, "which I should wish to communicate to you alone." "No, no. No secrets from these gentlemen," said the constable; and then added, with a hard, dry laugh, "we are all chickens of one coop, and share the same grain and the same fate. Speak what you have to say before them." "Be it so, if you desire it, my lord," replied De Brecy. "I came to offer an humble remonstrance to you, sir, and to point out a few facts regarding your own situation"--Richmond gave an impatient jerk in his chair, as if about to interrupt him; but De Brecy proceeded--"and that of the citadel, which I think have escaped your attention." "Ay, ay; speak of the citadel," answered Richmond. "That is what I would fain hear of." "I have told you, my lord," replied De Brecy, "that the citadel can and will hold out for more than a month, and nothing that you can do will take it. Long before that month is at an end, the king himself will be here to give it relief." "Well, let him come," exclaimed Richmond, impatiently. "We may have the citadel before he arrives, for all you say." "I think not, sir," answered De Brecy; "and if you knew as much of the affair as I do, you would say so too. But let us suppose for a moment that the castle does hold out, and that the king arrives before you can take it--" "Perhaps we can deal with both," cried Richmond. "And ruin France!" answered De Brecy. "I will never believe that the Count of Richmond--the loyal, faithful Count of Richmond--that the Count of La Marche, allied to the royal race; or the Count of Clermont, well known for his attachment to the throne, would be seen fighting against their sovereign at the very moment when, surrounded by foreign enemies, he is making a last desperate struggle for the salvation of his country and your own." He turned slightly toward the Count La Marche as he spoke, and Richmond exclaimed, in a furious tone, "Speak to me, sir. I am commander here. By the Lord, if you attempt to corrupt my allies, I will have your head off your shoulders." "You forced me to speak in their presence, my lord," replied Jean Charost, coolly; "and, whatever I have to say must be said as boldly as if they were not here." "Nay, nay; let him speak, good cousin," said the Count La Marche. "It is but right we should hear what he has to say." "My noble lord constable," said Clermont, "can not blame Monsieur De Brecy for acting on his own orders. We were his dear allies a moment ago, and partners of all his secrets. Why should we not hear the young gentleman's eloquence?" "Would I were eloquent!" replied De Brecy. "I would then show you, my lords, what a spectacle it would hold up to the world, to see one of the first officers of the crown of France, and two of the first noblemen of the land, from some small personal disgusts at the king's prime minister, violating their allegiance, frustrating all their sovereign's efforts to save his country, plunging the state, already made a prey to enemies by military factions, into greater danger and confusion than ever, and destroying the last hope for safety in France." Richmond rolled his eyes from the speaker to the two counts, and from their faces to that of De Brecy again, while his fingers clasped ominously round the hilt of his dagger. "Let him do us justice," he cried; "let him do us justice, and we will sheathe the sword." "Even if he have not done you justice," said De Brecy, boldly, "is this a moment to unsheathe the sword against your lord--that sword which he himself put into your hands? Is this a time, when every true son of France should sacrifice all personal considerations, and shed the last drop of his blood, were it necessary, for the deliverance of his country, to take advantage of the difficulties of his sovereign in order to wring concessions from him by force of arms? But has he not done you justice, my lord constable? Twice has his minister been sacrificed to your animosity. A third time you quarrel with the minister whom you yourself forced upon him, and plunge your unhappy country, already torn to pieces by strangers, into civil war, because the king will not, for the third time, submit to your will. Are his ministers but nine-pins, to be set up and knocked down for your pleasure? Are they but tools, to be used as you would have them? and are you an officer of the king, or his ruler?" The constable started up, with his drawn dagger in his hand, and would probably have cast himself on De Brecy, had not the Count La Marche interposed. "Hold, hold!" he cried, throwing himself in the way. "No violence, Richmond. On my life, he speaks well and truly. We are here for the public good--" "At least we-pretend so," said the Count of Clermont. "Really, my lord constable, you had better let Monsieur De Brecy go on, and speak quietly. We presume that he can say nothing that you would not wish us to hear, being chickens of the same coop, as you yourself have said; and the sharp arguments you seemed about to use might convince him, but could not convince us." Richmond threw himself into his seat again, and thrust the dagger back into its sheath. "Let us consider calmly," said the Count La Marche, "what are to be the consequences if the king does come to the relief of this castle before we have taken it." "Simply that we shall be besieged in the good city of Bourges," said the Count of Clermont, "and pass three or four months very pleasantly, with such diet and exercise as a besieged city usually affords." "Merely to get rid of La Trimouille," said the Count La Marche. The door suddenly opened as he spoke, and a gentleman, armed all but the head, entered in haste. "I beg your pardon, my lords," he said; "but I have thought fit to bring you instant intelligence that trumpets have been heard in the direction of Pressavoix, and some of the peasantry report that the king is there with a large force." "So soon!" said Richmond. "Got between us and Paris!" said the Count of Clermont. "The very movement is a reproach, my lords," replied De Brecy. "It shows that the king, unhappily, has been led to infer, from the surprise of Bourges, that three of the noblest men in France are in league with the common adversary. Oh, wipe away such a stain from your names, I beseech you! Send somebody to the king to make representations, if nothing more; and let not the Englishmen see true Frenchmen shedding each other's blood, while they are riding triumphant over the land. My life for it, if you have any real grievances, they will be redressed when properly represented." "It is false!" cried Richmond, vehemently, catching at some of De Brecy's words, and not heeding the rest. "We have no league with the enemy. We are faithful vassals of the crown of France; but we can be loyal to the king without being servile to his minister." "I doubt you not in the least, my lord," replied De Brecy. "Had I believed you disloyal, I never would have come hither. I have sought but to show you what language your actions speak, without ever questioning the truth and, fidelity that is in your heart. All I beseech you now to do, is to send some one at once to the king to negotiate terms of accommodation, and to show the loyalty you feel, before passion lead you into absolute treason." "I think the proposal is a very good one," said the Count La Marche. "We can do no harm by negotiating." "At all events, it will put our adversaries in the wrong," said Clermont. "What say you, Richmond?" "Well, well," said the constable, "I say yea also, although I have known more great successes cut short, more mighty enterprises frustrated, more good hopes crushed by small negotiation than by battle or defeat. However, so be it. Let some one go, though, good faith, I know not who will be the man, being sure of one thing, that, were I Tremouille, and a sleek-faced negotiator were to come with pleasant words from Richmond, La Marche, or Clermont, I would write my answer on his forehead, and hang him on the first tree I found. When men have gone as far as we have, to my mind there is no going back. However, I yield to better judgment. Send some one, if you can find him." Clermont and La Marche consulted together for a moment or two in a low tone, and, to say sooth, they seemed sorely puzzled. But at length La Marche looked up, saying, with some hesitation, "Perhaps Monsieur De Brecy would undertake the task?" "Good Lord!" exclaimed the constable, slightly raising his hands and eyes. "I will go willingly," replied De Brecy; "but it can only be, my lords, to open the negotiation for you. Carry it on I can not, as I am not of your faction. I shall require a letter under the hand of one or more of you assuring his majesty of the loyalty of your intentions, and begging him to appoint persons to confer with yourselves or your deputies in regard to certain grievances of which you complain. In this I think I shall succeed; but I will bear you back his majesty's answer, and after that can take no further share in the affair." "What, then," exclaimed the constable, in a tone of affected surprise, "you do not propose to rise upon our tombs to higher honor and preferment?" "Not in the least," replied De Brecy. "I am here, even at this present moment, merely as the envoy of Monsieur De Blondel, who sent me to you, as this authority will show." "Pooh, pooh!" said Richmond, in a contemptuous tone. "De Blondel has no wits either for the conception or the execution of such projects. But one thing I must exact, Monsieur De Brecy: if we send you to the king, you must hold no consultations in the castle before you go." De Brecy meditated for a moment, and then replied, "See Monsieur De Blondel I must, my lord; for I came from him to you, and must render him an account of what I have done. That account, however, may be very short. I can have him called to the barriers, and any one of you may hear what passes. I must, however, have horses and some of my train." "Be it so," said the constable. "I will go with you. You, Clermont, are a scribe, so write the letter to the king. It will be ready when we come back. Doubtless you will make it dutiful enough, and you need not say, unless you wish it, that Richmond is the only obstacle." With this sneer he rose, put his bonnet on his head, and accompanied De Brecy out of the room. As they went he said little, and at the barrier, both while Jean Charost waited for Blondel's coming and during their short conference, stood silent, with his arms crossed upon his breast. The governor of the castle, indeed, noticed the constable first, saying, "Give you good-night, my lord;" but Richmond only bent his head gravely in reply, and spoke but once during the whole interview, saying, when Jean Charost had given directions regarding his horses and men, "Send them down to Jacques Cœur's house, De Blondel, and that as quick as may be, for fear La Marche should have time to change his mind, and Clermont to fill his letter so full of tropes that no one can understand it." <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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