A.D. 1580.

Of the numerous sieges on both sides which marked the struggle of Henry IV. of France for his crown, we have selected that of Cahors as best displaying the character of that hero and the men and times he lived in.

Henry IV., whilst king of Navarre, resolved to gain possession of Cahors. That city is surrounded on all sides by the river Lot, which serves it as a fosse. It had a garrison of two thousand men, and Vesins, its governor, was a soldier of acknowledged valour and great experience. Its citizens, always armed, were never off their guard. Henry assembled his council of war, composed of valiant and tried captains, and all pronounced the enterprise hazardous. Their representations were useless. “Everything is possible to me,” said he, “with men as brave as those I consult.” On the 5th of May, he set out from Montauban, in excessively hot weather, and arrived in the middle of the night within a quarter of a league of Cahors. His troops there quenched their thirst at a fountain which flowed under a nursery of young walnut-trees. Twelve soldiers marched forward for the purpose of fastening a petard to the gates of the city. Fifty men, commanded by Captain Saint Martin, followed them closely; Roquilaure came next, with forty gentlemen and sixty soldiers; and after them, Henry of Navarre, with nine hundred men. Twelve hundred arquebusiers, in six platoons, closed the march. There were three gates to be forced. The petard attached to the first made so small an opening, that it was necessary to enlarge it with axes. The first passed through with difficulty; but the soldiers who followed them had time to file through in sufficiently great numbers. A furious storm which raged at the time did not permit the inhabitants to distinguish between the noise of the thunder and the report of the petards, which had broken down their gates. Henry’s soldiers, on first entering the city, met with forty men and two hundred arquebusiers, almost naked. The baron de Salignac cut them to pieces, and advanced into Cahors; but he was stopped in his march by the inhabitants, who, from the tops of the houses, hurled stones, tiles, pieces of wood, and other missiles upon the heads of his soldiers. In the mean time, the king of Navarre entered Cahors by another gate, with which the petard had succeeded better. At length day appeared, persons and objects were distinguishable, and all either rushed to the attack or stood firm in defence of the place. In all the streets it became necessary to force barricades and repulse a garrison much more numerous than the besiegers. Henry commanded and fought everywhere at the same time; his valour shrunk from no danger, though the blows of all the enemies seemed to be directed against him. He broke two partisans, and his armour was pierced in twenty places. This terrible combat lasted five days and five nights. The besieged, in full expectation of assistance, said not a word about surrendering. The assailants, fatigued with the weight of their armour and the excessive heat, maintained their posts with the intrepid courage their leader knew how to inspire. On the fourth day they learnt that the succours promised to the city were drawing near. At this news, his captains assembled round Henry, and conjured him to secure a retreat before the enemy could reach Cahors. Henry, too courageous to know what fear meant, and heedless of the pain caused by his wounds, replied, with that coolness which inspires confidence: “It is decreed above what is to become of me on this occasion. Remember that my retreat from this city without having taken it, will be the retreat of my life from my body. My honour is too deeply pledged to allow me to act otherwise; therefore, only speak to me of fighting, conquering, or dying.” Reanimated by these words, his soldiers made fresh efforts; and fortune seconded the efforts of the brave BÉarnais. He received a reinforcement of a hundred horse and five hundred arquebusiers; he secured his posts in the interior, and marched out to meet the approaching enemy. He repulsed them; and on his return to the city, the inhabitants having lost all hope, laid down their arms. There were but few killed in Henry’s army, but many wounded. The brave and virtuous Vesins had perished early in the contest; he had a short time before done himself great honour, by an act of rare generosity. His bravery, degenerating sometimes into ferocity, had made him numerous enemies; among these was a gentleman named RÉgnier, of a mild and polished character. Their neighbours and friends had exerted themselves in vain to reconcile them. RÉgnier was a Huguenot, and Vesins a Catholic. Whilst the cities of France were being stained with the blood of Huguenots, RÉgnier retired to Cahors for safety. But the king had made Vesins governor of that city, and RÉgnier was living in daily expectation of being sacrificed to the vengeance of his enemy, when his door was broken open, and he saw Vesins, with a drawn sword in his hand, and with the appearance of furious rage, enter, followed by two armed soldiers. RÉgnier, believing his death certain, fell upon his knees and implored the mercy of Heaven. Vesins in a menacing voice ordered him to get up, follow him, and mount a horse that was standing at the door. RÉgnier left the city with his enemy, who conducted him as far as Guienne without stopping and without speaking a single word to him. They arrived together at the chÂteau of RÉgnier, where Vesins, without alighting from his horse, said to him: “I had it in my power, as thou mayst see, to profit by the opportunity I have been so long in search of; but I should have been ashamed to avenge myself thus on a man so brave as thou art; the peril must be equal when our quarrel is settled; and it is on that account I have spared thy life. Thou shalt always find me as disposed to terminate our differences in a manner suitable to gentlemen, as thou hast found me prompt to deliver thee from an inevitable death.” “I have no longer, my dear Vesins,” replied RÉgnier, “either resolution, strength, or courage against you. Your kindness has extinguished the heat of my enmity: it is destroyed by your generosity, which I can never forget. I will henceforward follow you whithersoever you go; I will be always ready to employ in your service the life you have given me, and the little bravery you attribute to me.” RÉgnier wished to embrace his benefactor; but Vesins, preserving all the asperity of his character, said: “It is thy business to see whether thou art my friend or my enemy; I only saved thy life to put thee in a condition to make a choice.” Without waiting for a reply, he put spurs to his horse, leaving RÉgnier, stupified with this strange adventure, to wonder at the greatness of soul and generosity of him whom he had considered as his most cruel enemy.