Philip Rollo; or, the Scottish Musketeers, Vol. 1 (of 2)Grant, James
General
Philip Rollo; or, the Scottish Musketeers, Vol. 1 (of 2)
Grant, James
Thirty Years' War, 1618-1648 -- Fiction
Sinking softly down among the long grass, and enveloping myself in my
green plaid, I lay still and scarcely breathed, as they passed close
by me, hewing at the bushes with their brandished swords, drunk,
swearing, and intent on outrage. By the colour of their doublets I
could perceive they were musketeers of the Count de Merodé's
regiment--a band so infamous for cruelty, that in its members first
originated the now familiar term marauders--from Merodeurs. Their
colonel, a brutal and licentious noble, was afterwards slain by John
de Wart, a colonel of irregular horse; but from his outrages, and
those of his soldiers, in the capture of provinces and sack of towns,
the name of Merodé will ever be remembered with abhorrence by the
maids and mothers of Germany.
Expecting nothing but instant death for the value of my accoutrements
if discovered, I was happy to find that the ruffians passed me
without observation, and bent their steps towards the adjacent
village, between two green hedge-rows which concealed me from them; I
then sprang up, threw my plaid across me, grasped my black-knife, and
commenced my long and solitary journey towards Glückstadt.
As I walked quickly away, the noise of pistol-shots and screams
announced that the Merodeurs were committing some outrage upon the
quiet and unoffending villagers; and by a blaze of light, that shot
up between the trees, it was evident that several of the cottages had
been set on fire.
I was now in the territory of Saxe-Lauenburg; and, being aware that
its duke, Rodolph Maximilian, served under Tilly as colonel of horse,
and was one of the six brothers of that gallant House, all of whom
fought in this war of aggression, I felt somewhat dubious as to my
chances of escaping all the boors and peasants, his vassals, whom I
was certain to meet before reaching the territory of Hamburg, over
which I knew that King Christian claimed sovereignty as Count of
Holstein.
I suffered excessively from hunger and thirst; the excitement so
recently undergone conduced greatly to increase the latter, and being
aware that, if refreshment was not soon procured at all risks, the
whole night would assuredly be passed without it, I resolved to put a
bold face upon the matter, and, entering the first village I came to,
knocked boldly at the door of a house, on the front of which swung a
sign, bearing an eagle of a colour so undecided that it could not
fail to please all the troops who, by chance or misfortune, might
happen to march that way.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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