The position of the admiral was most discouraging: he had lost half his army, his jaw had been fractured by a pistol-shot, he had been declared a traitor, a price of 50,000 livres had been set upon his head, he had been hanged in effigy in Paris, his house had been burned down, and his estates pillaged,[440] the wreck of his forces were in mutiny, and many of his friends had forsaken him with reproaches. Yet, in the midst of all these troubles, we find him within a fortnight rising from his sick-bed and writing the following letter to his children. It bears date 16th October, 1569:--“We must not count upon what is called prosperity, or repose our hopes on any of those things in which the world confides, but seek for something better than our eyes can see or our hands can touch. We will follow in the steps of Jesus Christ, our great commander, who has gone before. Men have taken from us all they can, and as such is the good pleasure of God, we will be satisfied and happy. Our consolation is, that we have not provoked these injuries by doing any wrong to those who have injured us; but that I have drawn upon me their hatred through having been employed by God in the defense of his Church. I will, therefore, add nothing more, except that, in his name, I admonish and conjure you to persevere undauntedly in your studies and in the practice of every Christian virtue.” When the news of the great victory reached the court, the exultation surpassed even that caused by the success at Jarnac. Anjou was extolled in terms that excited the jealousy of his brother Charles. “Am I to play the sluggard king,” he said one day to his mother, “and let the duke be my mayor of the palace? I will lead my own armies to the field, like my grandfather.” Pius V. wrote to congratulate Charles on his victory, and exhorted him not to screen the conquered from the vengeance of heaven, “for there is nothing more cruel than such mercy. Punish all who have taken up arms against the Almighty.”[441] Philip II. wrote in a somewhat similar strain, but apparently with no effect upon the royal councils. Tavannes once more urged Anjou to act with decision; but once more that frivolous youth lost valuable time in sieges, when he should have been pressing hard upon Coligny’s scattered and disheartened forces. He was detained for two months before St. Jean d’Angely, a little town of Saintonge, in a valley on the banks of the Boutonne, a tributary of the “gently flowing Charente.” It fell at last (2d December, 1569), but at the cost of 4000 men and one of the king’s best generals, Viscount Martigues. Charles was present during the siege, and constantly in the trenches, exposing his life, as if he were a common soldier. He was so fascinated with the excitement of war, that he declared he would gladly share the crown with his brother of Anjou, if he might alternately command the forces.