78

Twenty Years After

by Alexandre Dumas

78, TWENTY YEARS AFTER by Alexandre Dumas
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The Battle of Charenton.



As Athos and Aramis proceeded, and passed different
companies on the road, they became aware that they were
arriving near the field of battle.

"Ah! my friend!" cried Athos, suddenly, "where have you
brought us? I fancy I perceive around us faces of different
officers in the royal army; is not that the Duc de Chatillon
himself coming toward us with his brigadiers?"

"Good-day, sirs," said the duke, advancing; "you are puzzled
by what you see here, but one word will explain everything.
There is now a truce and a conference. The prince, Monsieur
de Retz, the Duc de Beaufort, the Duc de Bouillon, are
talking over public affairs. Now one of two things must
happen: either matters will not be arranged, or they will be
arranged, in which last case I shall be relieved of my
command and we shall still meet again."

"Sir," said Aramis, "you speak to the point. Allow me to ask
you a question: Where are the plenipotentiaries?"

"At Charenton, in the second house on the right on entering
from the direction of Paris."

"And was this conference arranged beforehand?"

"No, gentlemen, it seems to be the result of certain
propositions which Mazarin made last night to the
Parisians."

Athos and Aramis exchanged smiles; for they well knew what
those propositions were, to whom they had been made and who
had made them.

"And that house in which the plenipotentiaries are," asked
Athos, "belongs to ---- "

"To Monsieur de Chanleu, who commands your troops at
Charenton. I say your troops, for I presume that you
gentlemen are Frondeurs?"

"Yes, almost," said Aramis.

"We are for the king and the princes," added Athos.

"We must understand each other," said the duke. "The king is
with us and his generals are the Duke of Orleans and the
Prince de Conde, although I must add 'tis almost impossible
now to know to which party any one belongs."

"Yes," answered Athos, "but his right place is in our ranks,
with the Prince de Conti, De Beaufort, D'Elbeuf, and De
Bouillon; but, sir, supposing that the conference is broken
off -- are you going to try to take Charenton?"

"Such are my orders."

"Sir, since you command the cavalry ---- "

"Pardon me, I am commander-in-chief."

"So much the better. You must know all your officers -- I
mean those more distinguished."

"Why, yes, very nearly."

"Will you then kindly tell me if you have in your command
the Chevalier d'Artagnan, lieutenant in the musketeers?"

"No, sir, he is not with us; he left Paris more than six
weeks ago and is believed to have gone on a mission to
England."

"I knew that, but I supposed he had returned."

"No, sir; no one has seen him. I can answer positively on
that point, for the musketeers belong to our forces and
Monsieur de Cambon, the substitute for Monsieur d'Artagnan,
still holds his place."

The two friends looked at each other.

"You see," said Athos.

"It is strange," said Aramis.

"It is absolutely certain that some misfortune has happened
to them on the way."

"If we have no news of them this evening, to-morrow we must
start."

Athos nodded affirmatively, then turning:

"And Monsieur de Bragelonne, a young man fifteen years of
age, attached to the Prince de Conde -- has he the honor of
being known to you?" diffident in allowing the sarcastic
Aramis to perceive how strong were his paternal feelings.

"Yes, surely, he came with the prince; a charming young man;
he is one of your friends then, monsieur le comte?"

"Yes, sir," answered Athos, agitated; "so much so that I
wish to see him if possible."

"Quite possible, sir; do me the favor to accompany me and I
will conduct you to headquarters."

"Halloo, there!" cried Aramis, turning around; "what a noise
behind us!"

"A body of cavaliers is coming toward us," said Chatillon.

"I recognize the coadjutor by his Frondist hat."

"And I the Duc de Beaufort by his white plume of ostrich
feathers."

"They are coming, full gallop; the prince is with them --
ah! he is leaving them!"

"They are beating the rappel!" cried Chatillon; "we must
discover what is going on."

In fact, they saw the soldiers running to their arms; the
trumpets sounded; the drums beat; the Duc de Beaufort drew
his sword. On his side the prince sounded a rappel and all
the officers of the royalist army, mingling momentarily with
the Parisian troops, ran to him.

"Gentlemen," cried Chatillon, "the truce is broken, that is
evident; they are going to fight; go, then, into Charenton,
for I shall begin in a short time -- there's a signal from
the prince!"

The cornet of a troop had in fact just raised the standard
of the prince.

"Farewell, till the next time we meet," cried Chatillon, and
he set off, full gallop.

Athos and Aramis turned also and went to salute the
coadjutor and the Duc de Beaufort. As to the Duc de
Bouillon, he had such a fit of gout as obliged him to return
to Paris in a litter; but his place was well filled by the
Duc d'Elbeuf and his four sons, ranged around him like a
staff. Meantime, between Charenton and the royal army was
left a space which looked ready to serve as a last resting
place for the dead.

"Gentlemen," cried the coadjutor, tightening his sash, which
he wore, after the fashion of the ancient military prelates,
over his archiepiscopal simar, "there's the enemy
approaching. Let us save them half of their journey."

And without caring whether he were followed or not he set
off; his regiment, which bore the name of the regiment of
Corinth, from the name of his archbishopric, darted after
him and began the fight. Monsieur de Beaufort sent his
cavalry, toward Etampes and Monsieur de Chanleu, who
defended the place, was ready to resist an assault, or if
the enemy were repulsed, to attempt a sortie.

The battle soon became general and the coadjutor performed
miracles of valor. His proper vocation had always been the
sword and he was delighted whenever he could draw it from
the scabbard, no matter for whom or against whom.

Chanleu, whose fire at one time repulsed the royal regiment,
thought that the moment was come to pursue it; but it was
reformed and led again to the charge by the Duc de Chatillon
in person. This charge was so fierce, so skillfully
conducted, that Chanleu was almost surrounded. He commanded
a retreat, which began, step by step, foot by foot;
unhappily, in an instant he fell, mortally wounded. De
Chatillon saw him fall and announced it in a loud voice to
his men, which raised their spirits and completely
disheartened their enemies, so that every man thought only
of his own safety and tried to gain the trenches, where the
coadjutor was trying to reform his disorganized regiment.

Suddenly a squadron of cavalry galloped up to encounter the
royal troops, who were entering, pele-mele, the
intrenchments with the fugitives. Athos and Aramis charged
at the head of their squadrons; Aramis with sword and pistol
in his hands, Athos with his sword in his scabbard, his
pistol in his saddle-bags; calm and cool as if on the
parade, except that his noble and beautiful countenance
became sad as he saw slaughtered so many men who were
sacrificed on the one side to the obstinacy of royalty and
on the other to the personal rancor of the princes. Aramis,
on the contrary, struck right and left and was almost
delirious with excitement. His bright eyes kindled, and his
mouth, so finely formed, assumed a wicked smile; every blow
he aimed was sure, and his pistol finished the deed --
annihilated the wounded wretch who tried to rise again.

On the opposite side two cavaliers, one covered with a gilt
cuirass, the other wearing simply a buff doublet, from which
fell the sleeves of a vest of blue velvet, charged in front.
The cavalier in the gilt cuirass fell upon Aramis and struck
a blow that Aramis parried with his wonted skill.

"Ah! 'tis you, Monsieur de Chatillon," cried the chevalier;
"welcome to you -- I expected you."

"I hope I have not made you wait too long, sir," said the
duke; "at all events, here I am."

"Monsieur de Chatillon," cried Aramis, taking from his
saddle-bags a second pistol, "I think if your pistols have
been discharged you are a dead man."

"Thank God, sir, they are not!"

And the duke, pointing his pistol at Aramis, fired. But
Aramis bent his head the instant he saw the duke's finger
press the trigger and the ball passed without touching him.

"Oh! you've missed me," cried Aramis, "but I swear to
Heaven! I will not miss you."

"If I give you time!" cried the duke, spurring on his horse
and rushing upon him with his drawn sword.

Aramis awaited him with that terrible smile which was
peculiar to him on such occasions, and Athos, who saw the
duke advancing toward Aramis with the rapidity of lightning,
was just going to cry out, "Fire! fire, then!" when the shot
was fired. De Chatillon opened his arms and fell back on the
crupper of his horse.

The ball had entered his breast through a notch in the
cuirass.

"I am a dead man," he said, and fell from his horse to the
ground.

"I told you this, I am now grieved I have kept my word. Can
I be of any use to you?"

Chatillon made a sign with his hand and Aramis was about to
dismount when he received a violent shock; 'twas a thrust
from a sword, but his cuirass turned aside the blow.

He turned around and seized his new antagonist by the wrist,
when he started back, exclaiming, "Raoul!"

"Raoul?" cried Athos.

The young man recognized at the same instant the voices of
his father and the Chevalier d'Herblay; two officers in the
Parisian forces rushed at that instant on Raoul, but Aramis
protected him with his sword.

"My prisoner!" he cried.

Athos took his son's horse by the bridle and led him forth
out of the melee.

At this crisis of the battle, the prince, who had been
seconding De Chatillon in the second line, appeared in the
midst of the fight; his eagle eye made him known and his
blows proclaimed the hero.

On seeing him, the regiment of Corinth, which the coadjutor
had not been able to reorganize in spite of all his efforts,
threw itself into the midst of the Parisian forces, put them
into confusion and re-entered Charenton flying. The
coadjutor, dragged along with his fugitive forces, passed
near the group formed by Athos, Raoul and Aramis. Aramis
could not in his jealousy avoid being pleased at the
coadjutor's misfortune, and was about to utter some bon mot
more witty than correct, when Athos stopped him.

"On, on!" he cried, "this is no moment for compliments; or
rather, back, for the battle seems to be lost by the
Frondeurs."

"It is a matter of indifference to me," said Aramis; "I came
here only to meet De Chatillon; I have met him, I am
contented; 'tis something to have met De Chatillon in a
duel!"

"And besides, we have a prisoner," said Athos, pointing to
Raoul.

The three cavaliers continued their road on full gallop.

"What were you doing in the battle, my friend?" inquired
Athos of the youth; "'twas not your right place, I think, as
you were not equipped for an engagement!"

"I had no intention of fighting to-day, sir; I was charged,
indeed, with a mission to the cardinal and had set out for
Rueil, when, seeing Monsieur de Chatillon charge, an
invincible desire possessed me to charge at his side. It was
then that he told me two cavaliers of the Parisian army were
seeking me and named the Comte de la Fere."

"What! you knew we were there and yet wished to kill your
friend the chevalier?"

"I did not recognize the chevalier in armor, sir!" said
Raoul, blushing; "though I might have known him by his skill
and coolness in danger."

"Thank you for the compliment, my young friend," replied
Aramis, "we can see from whom you learned courtesy. Then you
were going to Rueil?"

"Yes! I have a despatch from the prince to his eminence."

"You must still deliver it," said Athos.

"No false generosity, count! the fate of our friends, to say
nothing of our own, is perhaps in that very despatch."

"This young man must not, however, fail in his duty," said
Athos.

"In the first place, count, this youth is our prisoner; you
seem to forget that. What I propose to do is fair in war;
the vanquished must not be dainty in the choice of means.
Give me the despatch, Raoul."

The young man hesitated and looked at Athos as if seeking to
read in his eyes a rule of conduct.

"Give him the despatch, Raoul! you are the chevalier's
prisoner."

Raoul gave it up reluctantly; Aramis instantly seized and
read it.

"You," he said, "you, who are so trusting, read and reflect
that there is something in this letter important for us to
see."

Athos took the letter, frowning, but an idea that he should
find something in this letter about D'Artagnan conquered his
unwillingness to read it.

"My lord, I shall send this evening to your eminence in
order to reinforce the troop of Monsieur de Comminges, the
ten men you demand. They are good soldiers, fit to confront
the two violent adversaries whose address and resolution
your eminence is fearful of."

"Oh!" cried Athos.

"Well," said Aramis, "what think you about these two enemies
whom it requires, besides Comminges's troop, ten good
soldiers to confront; are they not as like as two drops of
water to D'Artagnan and Porthos?"

"We'll search Paris all day long," said Athos, "and if we
have no news this evening we will return to the road to
Picardy; and I feel no doubt that, thanks to D'Artagnan's
ready invention, we shall then find some clew which will
solve our doubts."

"Yes, let us search Paris and especially inquire of Planchet
if he has yet heard from his former master."

"That poor Planchet! You speak of him very much at your
ease, Aramis; he has probably been killed. All those
fighting citizens went out to battle and they have been
massacred."

It was, then, with a sentiment of uneasiness whether
Planchet, who alone could give them information, was alive
or dead, that the friends returned to the Place Royale; to
their great surprise they found the citizens still encamped
there, drinking and bantering each other, although,
doubtless, mourned by their families, who thought they were
at Charenton in the thickest of the fighting.

Athos and Aramis again questioned Planchet, but he had seen
nothing of D'Artagnan; they wished to take Planchet with
them, but he could not leave his troop, who at five o'clock
returned home, saying that they were returning from the
battle, whereas they had never lost sight of the bronze
equestrian statue of Louis XIII.