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III.
THE SOLDIER APPRENTICE

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Jack goes to France with Peregrine—Is persuaded to turn homeward—He starts for Paris and meets David Home—Sees the capital and spends his money—Takes boat on the Seine for the coast and arrives without a penny in his pocket—Enters the service of Captain Duxbury and begins to learn the practice of arms—Sees service in the army of Henry of Navarre—Goes to the Low Countries and fights against the Spaniards—Sails for Scotland and is shipwrecked—Returns to Willoughby and continues his training with Signor Polaloga.

Our friends arrived at Orleans without adventure or mishap. Sir Robert Bertie, the elder son of Lord Willoughby d’Eresby, was unaffectedly pleased to see his old playmate, Jack Smith. On reflection, however, and after consultation with Doctor Hollister, he decided that the young truant could not do better than return to his guardian. When a few days had been spent in seeing the sights and the tutor had intimated that it was time the young noblemen settled down to their studies, Robert frankly expressed his opinion with regard to Jack.

Peregrine was moved to tears at the thought of losing his companion and thoughtlessly charged his brother with a selfish desire to be rid of their guest. “Nay,” said Robert, kindly laying his hand upon our hero’s shoulder, “Jack knows me too well to believe that. In truth nothing would better please me than that he should stay with us, but he has work to do at home. No, Willoughby is the place for thee lad—and would I were going with thee. Tomorrow we see Jack started on his way Peregrine, and when we come back in a year or two it shall be to find him a full-blown farmer, with a buxom wife perchance.”

Jack was anything but pleased at the prospect, but he had too much sense to raise an objection to the suggestion, and besides he was duly grateful for the generous hospitality he had enjoyed at the expense of his friends for some weeks.

The following morning the sons of Lord Willoughby accompanied Jack for some distance beyond the town on the first stage of his journey to Paris which lay about seventy miles to the north of Orleans. When at length they bid him good-bye with genuine regret at parting, Robert put a well-filled purse into his hand and Peregrine gave him one of the heavy, cumbersome pistols that were then in use. It was the first weapon that Jack ever owned and he stuck it in his belt with a great deal of satisfaction.

A few years later, in the course of his wanderings, Jack accidentally came across Robert and Peregrine Bertie at Siena in Italy. There they lay recovering from severe wounds received in an affair that reflected greatly to their honor. After that meeting it is doubtful if the paths of these early friends again crossed in life, but the young sons of the famous Lord Willoughby played such important parts in our hero’s career that the reader will surely be interested in knowing something of their fate. In 1601 Robert succeeded to the title and estates of his father on the death of the latter. As the twelfth Baron Willoughby he upheld the military prestige of the family and added fresh laurels to those gathered by a long line of soldier ancestors. He was created Earl Lindsay in the reign of James the First and during the civil war that terminated in the execution of Charles the First, he held the post of commander-in-chief of the royal forces and was mortally wounded at the battle of Edgehill. Peregrine became a barrister—a truly strange occupation for a Bertie in those days—and practised law with some distinction until his death in 1640.

We left our young hero on the road to Paris. His condition was very different from that in which he left Willoughby for London, but he had set out upon that journey with a light heart and abundant hope. Now he was plodding towards the capital of France in a gloomy state of mind. The idea of abandoning his venture and returning to the plow or, worse yet, the dingy counting house of Master Sendall, was utterly distasteful to him and his pride was touched by the thought of so lame a conclusion to the boastful display of independence he had made to his guardian. Having taken Robert Bertie’s money on the understanding that he would use it to return to England he felt bound to do so, but he began to wish that he had declined the gift and had gone on his way as poor in purse but as free in action as when he turned his back on his native village. Indeed, before he had finished his supper at the inn where he stopped at nightfall, Jack had almost decided to retrace his steps on the morrow, hand Robert his purse untouched and regain his freedom. But one of those chance circumstances that lead to the most important results in the lives of all of us, decided the matter in another way.

Only persons of distinction, who were willing to pay for the privilege, occupied private rooms in the hostelries of those days. Jack was pleased to find a fellow countryman sharing his bedchamber. David Home, for such was the young man’s name, proved to be an adventurer following just such a life as our hero was desirous of entering upon. He was a gentleman of good family, but at this time his fortunes were at a very low ebb; in fact, he was not only penniless but weak from the effects of a recent fever. Home was an entertaining talker and delighted Jack with the recital of his exploits and experiences. Before they fell asleep it had been agreed that they should continue the journey to Paris in company. This they did, arriving in the course of a few days. Home knew the city well, and under his guidance time passed quickly in sight-seeing and amusement. Since their meeting Jack’s purse had been generously placed at the disposal of his new friend, and when at length our hero awoke to his obligation to continue the journey to England his money had run very low.

Home was naturally sorry to see Jack, for whom he had acquired a strong regard, leave, but he agreed with him that it was his duty to do so. Home was far from ungrateful for the kindness he had experienced at Jack’s hands and made all the return that was within his power when he gave our hero letters to friends in Scotland who stood high at the court of James the Sixth and might use their influence to further the fortunes of the bearer. Jack sewed the letters in the lining of his doublet and, taking boat on the Seine for the sea coast, arrived at Havre de Grace without a penny in his pocket.

Whilst Jack was looking about for an opportunity to work his way across the channel, not having the means to pay his passage, he fell in with a Captain Joseph Duxbury, in the service of Henry of Navarre. When the captain had heard the story of his young countryman he declared that it would be a pity to return to the farm without any further taste of adventure than had so far fallen to our hero’s lot, and he proposed that he should enter his employment as an apprentice in the art of war. It is needless to say that Jack could not resist this offer. The camp was in sight and the captain assured him that he might at least defer his return to England without breaking faith with his friend, Sir Robert Bertie.

Jack thus found himself installed as page to Captain Duxbury who, besides having taken a fancy to the lad, was really in need of such a servant at the moment. The duties consisted chiefly in looking after the captain’s arms, accoutrements and horse. They afforded Jack his first introduction to the implements of war and gave him an opportunity to learn to ride. In spare time his master taught him the use of the various weapons and instructed him in sitting and managing the charger. All this was interesting enough to Jack, who soon had his mind set upon becoming a soldier, but, aside from a few skirmishes, he saw no fighting before the end of the war threw his master out of employment.

Captain Duxbury was one of the many free lances of various nationalities who at this period made a business of fighting and, if the truth must be told, were generally ready to sell their services to the highest bidder without regard to the cause of the conflict. Whilst this was true in some degree of all, the English adventurers were usually found fighting against the Spanish for whom they cherished the most intense hatred. Following the peace in France, Captain Duxbury decided to go to the Low Countries and Jack gladly accompanied him. But in the ensuing campaign, although our hero remained in the troop commanded by his old master, it was in the capacity of a fighting man in the ranks. In the army commanded by Maurice of Nassau, Captain Duxbury’s troop of horse had an ample share of work and Jack took a creditable part in several battles of more or less importance.

Thrown out of service by another treaty of peace, our hero resolved to try the effect of the presentation of the letters he had received from David Home. Accordingly he made his way to Enkhuisen on the Zuyder Zee and thence set sail for Leith. The vessel in which Jack—now usually addressed as “John Smith”—had embarked was a small one, and when it encountered a terrific storm in the North Sea it was at the mercy of wind and water. The master and crew despaired of weathering the gale, and after lowering the sails allowed the ship to drift whither it would. It ran ashore and was totally wrecked, John being among the fortunate few who escaped drowning. The land upon which they were thrown was Lindisfarn, called the “Holy Isle,” near Berwick. Here John, who had received injuries in the wreck from which a fever followed, lay ill for some weeks. Upon recovering sufficiently he proceeded to Scotland and called on the friends of David Home to whom he bore introductions. They received him kindly and did all in their power to make his visit pleasant, but they told him frankly that they had neither the money nor the means to secure his advancement at court. Under these circumstances John, whose health was still poor, determined to return to his native place.

Somewhat to his surprise John found the good people of Willoughby disposed to treat him as a hero, although he protested that he had accomplished no more than to gain some little insight to the ways of warfare. His estate under the able management of Master Metham—who was now disposed to accord him the deference due to a man—had flourished during his absence abroad. He had the means to dress and live as a gentleman, which in those days was of even more consequence than it is now. John was now in his twentieth year and had developed into a strong muscular young man. Although not tall he was well knit and had acquired from his military service an upright and graceful carriage and an air of self-possession. When tricked out in new velvet doublet and trunks, with ruff and feathered cap, and rapier dangling by his side, he made a gallant figure and set the hearts of the maids of Willoughby aflutter as he paced, not without pardonable pride, along the streets of the village.

But there was too much sound sense in John’s composition to permit him to enjoy this frivolous holiday life for long. Besides he had now fully made up his mind to follow the calling of arms, and with that decision came the determination to make of himself as thoroughly capable a soldier as possible. Circumstances forced him for awhile to pursue a life of peace, but he resolved to improve the interim by the study of military tactics and the practice of arms. With this design he betook him to a forest some miles from Willoughby and there went into seclusion. It was summer time and a hut of boughs sufficed for habitation. His servant supplied him with food and for occupation he had brought a horse and some books and an assortment of arms. The horse he first broke to the step and manœuvres of a military charger and then used him in tilting with a lance at a ring suspended from the branch of a tree. Among the books were “Polybius” and Machiavelli’s “Art of War.” From these he learned a great deal of the theory—the science and strategy—of his chosen profession.

Some of Captain John Smith’s biographers have affected to find cause for amusement in the contemplation of this period of his career, but we shall take another view of it when we find the lance practice and the riding exercise showing their fruit in one of the most accomplished soldiers on the Continent who is as a result enabled to defeat in three successive encounters the champions of the Turkish army. Again we shall appreciate the wisdom and foresight exhibited by our hero at this time when we see the information gained in his studies turned to such good account in the service of his superiors as to affect the issues of battles and lead to his promotion from the ranks to an important command.

The retreat to which John had betaken himself, although in the depths of the forest, was not beyond the ken of human eye. Woodcutters and charcoal burners carried to the surrounding towns strange stories of a fierce horseman mounted on a gigantic steed who charged through the sylvan avenues at a pace so terrific as to shake the earth for miles round. At length the rumor of this weird cavalier reached the ears of Signor Theodore Polaloga, an Italian who occupied the position of master of horse to the Earl of Lincoln at his neighboring castle. Whilst this gentleman discredited the supernatural features of the story, he was forced to believe that a horseman for reasons of his own was practising riding in the privacy of the forest. Being himself the most expert equestrian in that part of the country and one of the best in the kingdom, his curiosity to know more of the stranger was naturally great.

Signor Polaloga had no difficulty in finding the military hermit and John, who was beginning to weary of his retirement, received the Italian cordially, and all the more so since he was well acquainted with that gentleman’s reputation as a superb horseman. Such simple hospitality as lay at his command John extended cheerfully to his visitor, who accepted it with an air of frank comradeship and partook heartily of a venison pasty, the contents of which he strongly suspected to have been poached from the Earl’s preserves. When, after a conversation that each found sufficiently interesting to prolong, the equerry proposed a friendly joust, Jack was delighted to comply. Whilst our hero soon learned that he was no match for the Italian, he had no cause to be ashamed of himself, for the master of horse pronounced him surprisingly proficient and declared that few young men of his age could excel him in horsemanship or in handling the lance.

The following morning Signor Polaloga returned with an invitation from the Earl to John to come and stay at Tattershall, as the castle was named. John, who had heard of the Earl of Lincoln as an eccentric nobleman and hard to please, might have respectfully declined this flattering invitation had not the equerry clinched the matter by mentioning the extensive stable of fine horses, the assortment of various arms and the tilt-yard that would be at the disposal of the guest. So John went to Tattershall, and to his surprise found the Earl a very pleasant gentleman who bade him make himself as much at home in the castle as though he owned it. John spent several weeks at Tattershall. Signor Polaloga entered zealously into the instruction of the young man, declaring that he had never before had so apt a pupil. But with the progress of his skill the desire to exercise it in actual conflict grew and, hearing rumors of renewed hostilities in Holland, John bade adieu to his patron, the Earl, and his friend the master of horse and returned to Willoughby with the intention of fitting himself out for a campaign on the continent.

Captain John Smith

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