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Journeys. Part 3
Journeys. Part 3
The Journey To Hesdin. 1553
The Emperor Charles laid siege to the town of Therouenne; and M. le Duc
de Savoie was General of his whole army. It was taken by assault: and there
was a great number of our men killed and taken prisoners.
The King, wishing to prevent the enemy from besieging the town and
castle of Hesdin also, sent thither MM. le Duc de Bouillon, le Duc Horace,
le Marquis de Villars, and a number of captains, and about eighteen hundred
soldiers: and during the siege of Therouenne, these Seigneurs fortified the
castle of Hesdin, so that it seemed to be impregnable. The King sent me to
the Seigneurs, to help them with my art, if they should come to have need of
it.
Soon after the capture of Therouenne, we were besieged in Hesdin. There
was a clear stream of running water within shot of our cannon, and about it
were fourscore or an hundred of the enemy`s rabble, drawing water. I was on
a rampart watching the enemy pitch their camp; and, seeing the crowd of
idlers round the stream, I asked M. du Pont, commissary of the artillery,
to send one cannon-shot among this canaille: he gave me a flat refusal, saying
that all this sort of people was not worth the powder would be wasted on them.
Again I begged him to level the cannon, telling him, "The more dead, the
fewer enemies;" which he did for my sake: and the shot killed fifteen or
sixteen, and wounded many. Our men made sorties against the enemy, wherein
many were killed and wounded on both sides, with gunshot or with fighting
hand to hand; and our men often sallied out before their trenches were made;
so that I had my work cut out for me, and had no rest either day or night
for dressing the wounded.
And here I would note that we had put many of them in a great tower,
laying them on a little straw: and their pillows were stones, their
coverlets were cloaks, those who had any. When the attack was made, so often
as the enemy`s cannons were fired, our wounded said they felt pain in their
wounds, as if you had struck them with a stick: one was crying out on his
head, the other on his arm, and so with the other parts of the body: and many
had their wounds bleed again, even more profusely than at the time they were
wounded, and then I had to run to staunch them. Mon petit maistre, if you had
been there, you would have been much hindered with your hot irons; you would
have wanted a lot of charcoal to heat them red, and sure you would have been
killed like a calf for your cruelty. Many died of the diabolical storm of the
echo of these engines of artillery, and the vehement agitation and severe
shock of the air acting on their wounds; others because they got no rest for
the shouting and crying that were made day and night, and for want of good
food, and other things needful for their treatment. Mon petit maistre, if you
had been there, no doubt you could have given them jelly, restoratives,
gravies, pressed meats, broth, barley-water, almond-milk, blanc-mange, prunes,
plums, and other food proper for the sick; but your diet would have been only
on paper, and in fact they had nothing but beef of old shrunk cows, seized
round Hesdin for our provision, salted and half-cooked, so that he who would
eat it must drag at it with his teeth, as birds of prey tear their food. Nor
must I forget the linen for dressing their wounds, which was only washed daily
and dried at the fire, till it was as hard as parchment: I leave you to think
how their wounds could do well. There were four big fat rascally women who had
charge to whiten the linen, and were kept at it with the stick; and yet they
had not water enough to do it, much less soap. That is how the poor patients
died, for want of food and other necessary things.
One day the enemy feigned a general attack, to draw our soldiers into
the breach, that they might see what we were like: every man ran thither. We
had made a great store of artificial fires to defend the breach; a priest of
M. le Duc de Bouillon took a grenade, thinking to throw it at the enemy, and
lighted it before he ought: it burst, and set fire to all our store, which was
in a house near the breach. This was a terrible disaster for us, because it
burned many poor soldiers; it even caught the house, and we had all been
burned, but for help given to put it out; there was only one well in the
castle with any water in it, and this was almost dry, and we took beer to put
it out instead of water; afterward we were in great want of water, and to
drink what was left we must strain it through napkins.
The enemy, seeing the explosion and violence of the fires, which made
a wonderful flame and thundering, thought we had lit them on purpose to defend
the breach, and that we had many more of them. This made them change their
minds, to have us some other way than by attack: they dug mines, and sapped
the greater part of our walls, till they came near turning our castle
altogether upside down; and when the sappers had finished their work, and
their artillery was fired, all the castle shook under our feet like an
earthquake, to our great astonishment. Moreover, they had levelled five pieces
of artillery, which they had placed on a little hillock, so as to have us from
behind when we were gone to defend the breach. M. le Duc Horace had a
cannon-shot on the elbow, which carried off his arm one way and his body the
other, before he could say a single word; his death was a great disaster to
us, for the high rank that he held in the town. Also M. de Martigues had a
gun-shot wound which pierced his lungs: I dressed him, as I shall tell
hereafter.
Then we asked leave to speak with the enemy; and a trumpet was sent to
the Prince of Piedmont to know what terms he would give us. He answered that
all the leaders, such as gentlemen, captains, lieutenants, and ensigns, would
be taken prisoners for ransom, and the soldiers would leave the town without
their arms; and if we refused this fair and honest offer, we might rest
assured they would take us next day, by attack or otherwise.
A council was held, to which I was called, to know if I would sign the
surrender of the town; with many captains, gentlemen, and others. I answered
it was not possible to hold the town, and I would sign the surrender with my
own blood, for the little hope I had we could resist the enemy`s forces, and
for the great longing I had to be out of this hell and utter torture; for I
slept neither night nor day for the great number of the wounded, who were
about two hundred. The dead were advanced in putrefaction, piled one upon the
other like faggots, and not covered with earth, because we had none. And if I
went into a soldier`s lodging, there were soldiers waiting for me at the door
when I came out, for me to dress others; it was who should have me, and they
carried me like the body of a saint, with my feet off the ground, fighting for
me. I could not satisfy this great number of wounded: nor had I got what I
wanted for their treatment. For it is not enough that the surgeon do his duty
toward his patients, but the patient also must do his; and the assistants, and
external things, must work together for him: see Hippocrates, Aphorism the
First.
Having heard that we were to surrender the place, I knew our business was
not prospering; and for fear of being known, I gave a velvet coat, a satin
doublet, and a cloak of fine cloth trimmed with velvet, to a soldier; who gave
me a bad doublet all torn and ragged with wear, and a frayed leather collar,
and a bad hat, and a short cloak; I dirtied the neck of my shirt with water
mixed with a little soot, I rubbed my hose with a stone at the knees and over
the heels, as though they had been long worn. I did the same to my shoes, till
one would have taken me for a chimney-sweep rather than a King`s surgeon. I
went in this gear to M. de Martigues, and prayed him to arrange I should stop
with him to dress him; which he granted very willingly, and was as glad I
should be near him as I was myself.
Soon afterward, the commissioners who were to select the prisoners
entered the castle, the seventeenth day of July, 1553. They took prisoners MM.
le Duc de Bouillon, le Marquis de Villars, de Roze, le Baron de Culan, M. du
Pont, commissary of the artillery, and M. de Martigues; and me with him,
because he asked them; and all the gentlemen who they knew could pay ransom,
and most of the soldiers and the leaders of companies; so many and such
prisoners as they wished. And then the Spanish soldiers entered by the breach,
unresisted; our men thought they would keep their faith and agreement that all
lives should be spared. They entered the town in a fury to kill, plunder, and
ravage everything: they took a few men, hoping to have ransom for them. . . .
If they saw they could not get it, they cruelly put them to death in cold
blood. . . . And they killed them all with daggers, and cut their throats.
Such was their great cruelty and treachery; let him trust them who will.
To return to my story: when I was taken from the castle into the town,
with M. de Martigues, there was one of M. de Savoie`s gentlemen, who asked me
if M. de Martigues` wound could be cured. I told him no, that it was
incurable: and off he went to tell M. le Duc de Savoie. I bethought myself
they would send physicians and surgeons to dress M. de Martigues; and I argued
within myself if I ought to play the simpleton, and not let myself be known
for a surgeon, lest they should keep me to dress their wounded, and in the end
I should be found to be the King`s surgeon, and they would make me pay a big
ransom. On the other hand, I feared, if I did not show I was a surgeon and had
dressed M. de Martigues skilfully, they would cut my throat. Forthwith I made
up my mind to show them he would not die for want of having been well dressed
and nursed.
Soon after, sure enough, there came many gentlemen, with the Emperor`s
physician, and his surgeon, and those belonging to M. de Savoie, and six other
surgeons of his army, to see M. de Martigues` wound, and to know of me how I
had dressed and treated it. The Emperor`s physician bade me declare the
essential nature of the wound and what I had done for it. And all his
assistants kept their ears wide open, to know if the wound were or were not
mortal. I commenced my discourse to them, how M. de Martigues, looking over
the wall to mark those who were sapping it, was shot with an arquebus through
the body, and I was called of a sudden to dress him. I found blood coming from
his mouth and from his wounds. Moreover, he had a great difficulty of
breathing in and out, and air came whistling from the wounds, so that it would
have put out a candle; and he said he had a very great stabbing pain where the
bullet had entered. . . . I withdrew some scales of bone, and put in each
wound a tent with a large head, fastened with a thread, lest on inspiration it
should be drawn into the cavity of the chest; which has happened with
surgeons, to the detriment of the poor wounded; for being fallen in, you
cannot get them out; and then they beget corruption, being foreign bodies. The
tents were anointed with a preparation of yolk of egg, Venice turpentine, and
a little oil of roses. . . . I put over the wounds a great plaster of
diachylum, wherewith I had mixed oil of roses, and vinegar, to avoid
inflammation. Then I applied great compresses steeped in oxycrate, and
bandaged him, not too tight, that he might breathe easily. Next, I drew five
basons of blood from his right arm, considering his youth and his sanguine
temperament. . . . Fever took him, soon after he was wounded, with feebleness
of the heart. . . . His diet was barleywater, prunes with sugar, at other
times broth: his drink was a ptisane. He could lie only on his back. . . .
What more shall I say? but that my Lord de Martigues never had an hour`s rest
after he was wounded. . . . Theae things considered, Gentlemen, no other
prognosis is possible, save that he will die in a few days, to my great
grief.
Having finished my discourse, I dressed him as I was accustomed. When I
displayed his wounds, the physicians and surgeons, and other assistants
present, knew the truth of what I had said. The physicians, having felt his
pulse and seen that the vital forces were depressed and spent, agreed with me
that in a few days he would die. Then they all went to the Duc de Savoie, and
told him M. de Martigues would die in a short time. He answered them,
"Possibly, if he had been well dressed, he might have escaped death." Then
they all with one voice said he had been very well dressed and cared for
altogether, and it could not be better, and it was impossible to cure him, and
his wound was of necessity mortal. Then M. de Savoie was very angry with them,
and cried, and asked them again if for certain they all held his case
hopeless: they answered, yes.
Then a Spanish impostor came forward, who promised on his life to cure
him; and if he did not, they should cut him in an hundred pieces; but he would
have no physicians, nor surgeons, nor apothecaries with him: and M. le Duc de
Savoie forthwith bade the physicians and surgeons not go near M. de Martigues;
and sent a gentleman to bid me, under pain of death, not so much as to touch
him. Which I promised, and was very glad, for now he would not die under my
hands; and the impostor was told to dress him, and to have with him no other
physicians or surgeons, but only himself. By and bye he came, and said to M.
de Martigues, "Senor Cavallero, M. de Savoie has bid me come and dress your
wound. I swear to God, before eight days I will set you on horseback, lance in
hand, provided none touch you but I alone. You shall eat and drink whatever
you like. I will be dieted instead of you; and you may trust me to perform
what I promise. I have cured many who had worse wounds than yours." And the
Seigneurs answered him, "God give you His grace for it."
He asked for a shirt of M. de Martigues, and tore it in little strips,
which he laid cross-wise, muttering and murmuring certain words over the
wounds: having done this much for him, he let him eat and drink all he would,
saying he himself would be dieted in his stead; which he did, eating but six
prunes and six morsels of bread for dinner, and drinking only beer.
Nevertheless, two days later, M. de Martigues died: and my friend the
Spaniard, seeing him at the point of death, eclipsed himself, and got away
without goodbye to any man. And I believe if he had been caught he would have
been hanged and strangled, for the false promise he made to M. le Duc de
Savoie and many other gentlemen. M. de Martigues died about ten o`clock in
the morning; and after dinner M. de Savoie sent the physicians and surgeons,
and his apothecary, with a store of drugs to embalm him. They came with many
gentlemen and captains of his army.
The Emperor`s surgeon came to me, and asked me in a very friendly way to
make the embalmment; which I refused, saying that I was not worthy to carry
his instrument-box after him. He begged me again to do it to please him, and
that he would be very glad of it. . . . Seeing his kindness, and fearing to
displease him, I then decided to show them the anatomist that I was,
expounding to them many things, which would here be too long to recite. . . .
Our discourse finished, I embalmed the body; and it was placed in a coffin.
Then the I Emperor`s surgeon drew me aside, and told me, if I would stop with
him, he would treat me well, and give me a new suit of clothes, and set me on
horseback. I gave him many thanks, and said I had no wish to serve any country
but my own. Then he told me I was a fool, and if he were a prisoner as I was,
he would serve a devil to get his freedom. In the end I told him flat I would
not stop with him. The Emperor`s physician then went back to M. de Savoie, and
explained to him the causes of M. de Martigues` death, and that it was
impossible for all the men in the world to have cured him; and assured him
again I had done all that was to be done, and besought him to take me into his
service; saying much more good of me than there was. He having been persuaded
to do this, sent to me one of his stewards, M. du Bouchet, to tell me, if I
would serve him, he would use me well; I sent back my very humble thanks, and
that I had decided not to take service under any foreigner. When he heard my
answer he was very angry, and said I ought to be sent to the galleys.
M. de Vaudeville, Governor of Graveline, and colonel of seventeen ensigns
of infantry, asked him to send me to him, to dress an old ulcer on his leg,
that he had had for six or seven years. M. de Savoie said he was willing, so
far as I was concerned; and if I used the cautery to his leg, it would serve
him right. M. de Vaudeville answered, if he saw me trying it, he would have my
throat cut. Soon after, he sent for me four German halberdiers of his guard;
and I was terrified, for I did not know where they were taking me: they spoke
no more French than I German. When I was come to his lodging, he bade me
welcome, and said, now I belonged to him; and so soon as I had healed him, he
would let me go without ransom. I told him I had no means to pay any ransom.
He called his physician and his surgeon-in-ordinary, to show me his leg; and
when we had examined it, we withdrew into a room, where I began my discourse
to them. . . . Then the physician left me with the surgeon, and went back to
M. de Vaudeville, and said he was sure I could cure him, and told him all I
had decided to do; which pleased him vastly. He sent for me, and asked if I
thought I could cure him; I said yes, if he were obedient to what was
necessary. He promised to do only what I wished and ordered; and so soon as he
was healed, he would let me go home without ransom. Then I asked him to make
better terms with me, saying it was too long to wait for my liberty: in
fifteen days I hoped his ulcer would be less than half its present size, and
give no pain; then his own surgeon and physician could finish the cure. He
granted this to me. Then I took a piece of paper to measure the size of the
ulcer, and gave it to him, and kept another by me; I asked him to keep his
promise, when I had done my work; he swore by the faith of a gentleman he
would. Then I set myself to dress him properly, after the manner of
Galen. . . . He wished to know if it were true, what I said of Galen, and bade
his physician look to it, for he would know it for himself; he had the book
put on the table, and found that what I said was true; so the physician was
ashamed, and I was glad. Within the fifteen days, it was almost all healed;
and I began to feel happy about the compact made between us. He had me to eat
and drink at his table, when there were no more great persons than he and I
only. He gave me a big red scarf which I must wear; which made me feel
something like a dog when they give him a clog, to stop him eating the grapes
in the vineyard. His physician and surgeon took me through the camp to visit
their wounded; and I took care to observe what our enemy was doing. I found
they had no more great cannons, but only twenty-five or thirty field-pieces.
M. de Vaudeville held prisoner M. de Bauge, brother of M. de Martigues
who died at Hesdin. M. de Bauge was prisoner at Chateau de la Motte au Bois,
belonging to the Emperor; he had been captured at Therouenne by two Spanish
soldiers; and M. de Vaudeville, when he saw him there, concluded he must be
some gentleman of good family: he made him pull off his stockings, and seeing
his clean legs and feet, and his fine white stockings, knew he was one to pay
a good ransom. He told the soldiers he would give them thirty crowns down for
their prisoner: they agreed gladly, for they had no place to keep him, nor
food for him, nor did they know his value: so they gave their man into his
hands, and he sent him off at once, guarded by four of his own soldiers, to
Chateau de la Motte au Bois, with others of our gentlemen who were prisoners.
M. de Bauge would not tell who he was; and endured much hardship, living
on bread and water, with a little straw for his bed. When Hesdin was taken, M.
de Vaudeville sent the news of it to him and to the other prisoners, and the
list of the killed, and among them M. de Martigues: and when M. de Bauge heard
with his own ears his brother was dead, he fell to crying, weeping, and
lamentation. His guards asked him why he was so miserable: he told them, for
love of M. de Martigues, his brother. When he heard this, the captain of the
castle sent straight to tell M. de Vaudeville he had a good prisoner: who was
delighted at this, and sent me next day with four soldiers, and his own
physician, to the castle, to say that if M. de Bauge would pay him fifteen
thousand crowns ransom, he would send him home free: and he asked only the
security of two Antwerp merchants that he should name. M. de Vaudeville
persuaded me I should commend this offer to his prisoner: that is why he sent
me to the castle. He told the captain to treat him well and put him in a room
with hangings, and strengthen his guard: and from that time onward they made a
great deal of him, at the expense of M. de Vaudeville.
M. de Bauge answered that he could not pay his ransom himself: it
depended on M. d`Estampes his uncle, and Mlle. de Bressure his aunt: he had no
means to pay such a ransom. I went back with my guards, and gave this answer
to M. de Vaudeville; who said, "Possibly he will not get away so cheap": which
was true, for they knew who he was. Then the Queen of Hungary and M. le Duc de
Savoie sent word to M. de Vaudeville that this mouthful was too big for him,
and he must send his prisoner to them (which he did), and he had other
prisoners enough without him. The ransom paid was forty thousand crowns,
without other expenses.
On my way back to M. de Vaudeville, I passed by Saint Omer, where I saw
their great cannons, most of which were fouled and broken. Also I passed by
Therouenne, where I saw not one stone left on another, save a vestige of the
great church: for the Emperor ordered the country people for five or six
leagues round to clear and take away the stones; so that now you may drive a
cart over the town: and the same at Hesdin, and no trace of castle and
fortress. Such is the evil that wars bring with them.
To return to my story; M. de Vaudeville soon got the better of his ulcer,
and was nearly healed: so he let me go, and sent me by a trumpet, with
passport, as far as Abbeville. I posted from here, and went to find my master,
King Henry, at Aufimon, who received me gladly and with good favour. He sent
MM. de Guise, the Constable, and d`Estres, to hear from me the capture of
Hesdin; and I made them a true report, and assured them I had seen the great
cannons they had take to Saint Omer: and the King was glad, for he had
feared the enemy would come further into France. He gave me two hundred crowns
to take me home: and I was thankful to be free, out of this great torment and
thunder of the diabolical artillery, and away from the soldiers, blasphemers
and deniers of God. I must add that after Hesdin was taken, the King was told
I was not killed but taken prisoner. He made M. Goguier, his chief physician,
write to my wife that I was living, and she was not to be unhappy, and he
would pay my ransom.
Battle Of Saint Quentin. 1557
After the battle of Saint Quentin, the King sent me to La Fere en
Tartenois, to M. le Marechal de Bourdillon, for a passport to M. le Duc de
Savoie, that I might go and dress the Constable, who had been badly wounded
in the back with a pistol-shot, whereof he was like to die, and remained
prisoner in the enemy`s hands. But never would M. Le Duc de Savoie let me go
to him, saying he would not die for want of a surgeon; that he much doubted I
would go there only to dress him, and not rather to take some secret
information to him; and that he knew I was privy to other things besides
surgery, and remembered I had been his prisoner at Hesdin. M. le Marechal told
the King of this refusal: who wrote to M. le Marechal, that if Mme. the
Constable`s Lady would send some quickwitted man of her household I would give
him a letter, and had also something to say to him by word of mouth, entrusted
to me by the King and by M. le Cardinal de Lorraine. Two days later there came
one of the Constable`s gentlemen of the bedchamber, with his shirts and other
linen, to whom M. le Marechal gave a passport to go to the Constable. I was
very glad, and gave him my letter, and instructed him what his master must
do now he was prisoner.
I thought, having finished my mission, to return to the King; but M. le
Marechal begged me to stop at La Fere with him, to dress a very great
number of wounded who had retreated there after the battle, and he would
write to the King to explain why I stopped; which I did. Their wounds were
very putrid, and full of worms, with gangrene, and corruption; and I had to
make free play with the knife to cut off what was corrupt, which was not
done without amputation of arms and legs, and also sundry trepannings. They
found no store of drugs at La Fere, because the surgeons of the camp had
taken them all away; but I found the waggons of the artillery there, and
these had not been touched. I asked M. le Marechal to let me have some of the
drugs which were in them, which he did; and I was given the half only at one
time, and five or six days later I had to take the rest; and yet it was not
half enough to dress the great number of wounded. And to correct and stop the
corruption, and kill the worms in their wounds, I washed them with Aegyptiacum
dissolved in wine and eau-de-vie, and did all I could for them; but in spite
of all my care many of them died.
There were at La Fere some gentlemen charged to find the dead body of M.
de Bois-Dauphin the elder, who had been killed in the battle; they asked me
to go with them to the camp, to pick him out, if we could, among the dead;
but it was not possible to recognize him, the bodies being all far gone in
corruption, and their faces changed. We saw more than half a league round us
the earth all covered with the dead; and hardly stopped there, because of the
stench of the dead men and their horses; and so many blue and green flies rose
from them, bred of the moisture of the bodies and the heat of the sun, that
when they were up in the air they hid the sun. It was wonderful to hear them
buzzing; and where they settled, there they infected the air, and brought the
plague with them. Mon petit maistre, I wish you had been there with me, to
experience the smells, and make report thereof to them that were not there.
I was very weary of the place; I prayed M. le Marechal to let me leave
it, and feared I should be ill there; for the wounded men stank past all
bearing, and they died nearly all, in spite of everything we did. He got
surgeons to finish the treatment of them, and sent me away with his good
favour. He wrote to the King of the diligence I had shown toward the poor
wounded. Then I returned to Paris, where I found many more gentlemen, who had
been wounded and gone thither after the battle.
The Journey To The Camp At Amiens. 1558
The King sent me to Dourlan, under conduct of Captain Gouast; with fifty
men-at-arms, for fear I should be taken by the enemy; and seeing we were
always in alarms on the way, I made my man get down, and made him the master;
for I got on his horse, which carried my valise, and could go well if we had
to make our escape, and I took his cloak and hat and gave him my mount, which
was a good little mare; he being in front, you would have taken him for the
master and me for the servant. The garrison inside Dourlan, when they saw us,
thought we were the enemy, and fired their cannon at us. Captain Gouast, my
conductor, made signs to them with his hat that we were not the enemy; at last
they ceased firing, and we entered Dourlan, to our great relief.
Five or six days before this, a sortie had been made from Dourlan;
wherein many captains and brave soldiers had been killed or wounded: and among
the wounded was Captain Saint Aubin, vaillant comme l`espee, a great friend of
M. de Guise: for whose sake chiefly the King had sent me there. Who, being
attacked with a quartan fever, yet left his bed to command the greater part of
his company. A Spaniard, seeing him in command, perceived he was a captain,
and shot him through the neck with an arquebus. Captain Saint Aubin thought
himself killed: and by this fright I protest to God he lost his quartan fever,
and was forever free of it. I dressed him, with Antoine Portail,
surgeon-in-ordinary of the King; and many other soldiers. Some died, others
got off with the loss of an arm or a leg or an eye, and said they had got off
cheap, to be alive at all. Then, the enemy having broken up their camp, I
returned to Paris.
I say nothing here of mon petit maistre, who was more comfortable in his
house than I at the wars.
The Journey To Bourges. 1562
The King with his camp was but a short time at Bourges, till those within
the walls should surrender; and they came out with their goods saved. I know
nothing worth remembering, but that a boy of the King`s kitchen, having come
near the walls of the town before the agreement had been signed, cried with a
loud voice, "Huguenot, Huguenot, shoot here, shoot here," having his arm
thrown up and his hand spread out; a soldier shot his hand right through with
a bullet. When he was thus shot, he came to find me to dress him. And the
Constable seeing the boy in tears, with his hand all bloody, asked who had
wounded him: then a gentleman who had seen him shot said it served him right,
because he kept calling "Huguenot, hit here, aim here." And then the Constable
said this Huguenot was a good shot and a good fellow, for most likely if he
had chosen to fire at the boy`s head, he would have hit it even more easily
than his hand. I dressed the kitchen boy, who was very ill. He recovered, but
with no power in his hand: and from that time his comrades called him
"Huguenot": he is still living now.
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