, but a few days before, might have been the fate of the great Henry
himself. But Chaligny's mortification at his captivity became intense
when he discovered that the knight to whom he had surrendered was no
other than the king's jester. That he, a chieftain of the Holy League,
the long-descended scion of the illustrious house of Lorraine, brother of
the great Duke of Mercoeur, should become the captive of a Huguenot
buffoon seemed the most stinging jest yet perpetrated since fools had
come in fashion. The famous Chicot--who was as fond of a battle as of a
gibe, and who was almost as reckless a rider as his master--proved on
this occasion that the cap and bells could cover as much magnanimity as
did the most chivalrous crest. Although desperately wounded in the
struggle which had resulted in his triumph, he generously granted to the
Count his freedom without ransom. The proud Lorrainer returned to his
Leaguers and the poor fool died afterwards of his wounds.

The army of the allies moved through Picardy towards the confines of
Artois, and sat down leisurely to beleaguer Rue, a low-lying place on the
banks and near the mouth of the Somme, the only town in the province
which still held for the king. It was sufficiently fortified to withstand
a good deal of battering, and it certainly seemed mere trifling for the
great Duke of Parma to leave the Netherlands in such confusion, with
young Maurice of Nassau carrying everything before him, and to come all
the way into Normandy in order, with the united armies of Spain and the
League, to besiege the insignificant town of Rue.

And this was the opinion of Farnese, but he had chosen throughout the
campaign to show great deference to the judgment of Mayenne. Meantime the
month of March wore away, and what had been predicted came to pass.
Henry's forces dwindled away as usual. His cavaliers rode off to forage
for themselves, when their battles were denied them, and the king was now
at the head of not more than sixteen thousand foot and five thousand
horse. On the other hand the Leaguers' army had been melting quite as
rapidly. With the death of Pope Sfondrato, his nephew Montemarciano had
disappeared with his two thousand Swiss; while the French cavalry and
infantry, ill-fed and uncomfortable, were diminishing daily. Especially
the Walloons, Flemings, and other Netherlanders of Parma's army, took
advantage of their proximity to the borders and escaped in large numbers
to their own