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
Sheathed in bright steel, with the colours of Weimar on his housings,
and his mother's crest, the demi-eagle of Anhalt, on his helmet, Duke
Bernard, accompanied by Sir Donald Mackay, rode at our head, mounted
on _Raven_, that famous black horse which he had so often ridden in
battle, which the Imperialists believed to be enchanted, and which,
at his death, he solemnly bequeathed to the Count of Nassau.
His first dispositions were to order the Baron of Klosterfiord, with
his troop of pistoliers, to ride at full speed towards Oldenburg, for
the purpose of reconnoitring; while I, with my company of Highland
musketeers, followed double quick to support him, with instructions
to lie _en perdue_ in a wood, which I would find some miles in front
of the town.
"Now, gentlemen," said Sir Donald jestingly as we filed forth, "I
hope you have put your worst doublets under your armour, for there
will be many a helmet on the grass to-morrow."
"By my faith, colonel," replied Ian; "I have but one--my best and
worst; so, if ever it comes to the drum-head, remember, gentlemen,
that Tilly's Croats abstracted my wardrobe on the Elbe."
"Yes, but will it not be rather extravagant, M'Farquhar, to be killed
with diamond buckles on your brogues?" asked Phadrig Mhor, his
henchman and fosterer.
"What," retorted my cousin; "would you have Ian Dhu to lie on the
field without other badge than his eagle's feather to shew that he
deserves a deeper grave or a higher cairn than a gillie or
trencherman?"
"Farewell, Sir Donald, and farewell, Ian," said I; "forward,
gentlemen and soldiers!" and with our muskets trailed, at a double
quick march, we took the road towards the pass of Oldenburg--the last
road which many among us were ever to tread again.
By the time we were clear of the town, we could see the pistoliers
far in advance of us, with their forked pennon of red silk fluttering
on the wind, and their bright helmets flashing as they galloped to
the front along the level roadway, from which the polished hoofs of
their horses rolled up the smoke-like dust.
Our hearts beat high with excitement, for we expected every moment to
see them rein up and halt, as a signal that the enemy's outposts were
in sight; but they continued galloping on, and at last disappeared
beyond that wood which had been indicated to me by the duke, and we
scanned the horizon in vain for those columns of smoke,, which, from
burning villages, and ravaged farms, invariably announced the scene
of Tilly's operations, and the movements of his troops.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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