The Voyage of Danvilliers, 1552.
AT the return from the German Camp, King Henry besieged Danvilliers; those within would not render. They were well beaten, and our powder failed us; in the mean time they shot much at our people. There was a Culverin-shot passed a traverse the Tent of Monsieur de Rohan, which hit a Gentlemans leg, which was of his train; which I was fain to finish the cutting off, the which was done without applying hot irons.
* 1.1The King sent for powder to Sedan, which being come, they began a greater battery then be∣fore, in such sort that they made a breach. Messiers de Guise and the high Constable being in the Kings Chamber, told him that they concluded the next day to make assault, and that they were assured they should enter into it, & that they should keep it secret, lest the enemy were adver∣tised. And all of them promised not to speak of it to any one. Now there was a groom of the Kings chamber who lay under the Kings bed in the Camp to sleep, understood that they resolved the next to give an assault; he presently revealed it to a certain Captain, and told him that for certain, the day following assault should be given, and that he had heard it of the King, and prayed the said Captain that he would not speak a word of it to any body, which he promised; but his promise was not kept; so at the same instant, he went and declared it to a Captain, and this Captain to a∣nother Captain, & from the Captains to some of the Souldiers, saying alwaies say nothing. It was so well hid that the next day early in the morning, there was seen the greatest part of the soul∣diers with their round hose and their breeches cut at the knee for the better mounting of the breach. The King was advertised of the tumor which run through the Camp, that the assault must be given, whereof he much marvelled, seeing there were but three of that advice, which had pro∣mised one to another not to tell it to any one. The King sent for Monsieur de Guise, to know if he had not talked of this assault; he swo••e and affirmed to him he had not told it to any body; and Monsieur the Constable said as much, who said to the King, he must expresly know who had declared this secret Counsel, seeing they were but three. Inquisition was made from Captain to Captain, in the end the truth was found; for one said twas such and one told me, ano∣ther said as much, till at length they came to the first, who declared he had learned it of a Groom of the Kings-Chamber, named Guyard, born at Blois, the son of the deceased King Francis his Barber. The King sent for him into his sent, in the presence of Monsieur de Guise, and of Mon∣sieur the Constable, to understand from him whence he had it, and who told him that this assault was to be given. The King told him, that if he did not tell the truth, that he would cause him to be hanged; then he declared, he lay down under his bed thinking to sleep, and so having heard it, he declared it to a Captain who was a friend of his, to the end he might prepare himself with his Souldiers the first for the assault. After the King knew the truth, he told him he should ne∣ver serve him again, and that he deserved to be hanged, and forbade him ever to come again to the Court.* 1.2 My Groom of the Chamber went away with this sad news, and lay with one of the Kings Surgeons in Ordinary, named master Lewis, and in the night gave himself six wounds with a knife, and cut his throat; yet the said Surgeon perceived nothing till morning, till he saw the bed bloody, and the dead body by him, he much marvelled at this spectacle upon his waking, and was affraid lest they should say he was the cause of this murther; but was soon freed, know∣ing the cause to be from desperation, having lost the good amity which the King bore to him. The said Guyard was buried. And those of Danvilliers when they saw the breach large enough for them to enter in, and the Souldiers prepared for the assault, yielded themselves to the mercy of the King. The chief of them were prisoners, and the Souldiers sent away without arms. The Camp being broken up I returned to Paris with my Gentleman whose leg I had cut off. I dressed him, and God cured him; I sent him to his house merry with his wooden leg, and was content, saying that he had escaped good cheap, not to have been miserably burnt, as you write in your book, my little master.