What will be will be, so they say. Lady Luck, it seemed, had wed me, or at least attached herself to me so firmly that even the least desirable events could not help turning out for the best. I was sitting at the commandant’s table when I learnt that my servant had arrived from Soest with my two fine horses. I didn’t know then (as I’ve found out since) that the fickle Sirens have a way of handing out the worst fortune to those who’d seemed to enjoy their greatest favour – while causing those to rise higher who are doomed to fall farther.
This servant, whom I’d captured from the Swedes earlier, was quite exceptionally loyal to me, for the simple reason that I treated him well. Each and every day he’d saddled my horses and ridden some way out of Soest to meet up with the bloke who’d been sent to fetch us. He didn’t want me either walking all that way or arriving in Soest naked or dressed in rags (for he was under the impression that I’d been stripped of everything). In consequence, when he did meet the drummer coming back with the prisoners, he’d packed my best clothes for the occasion. However, on seeing that I wasn’t there and being told that I’d been kept back to fight for the opposition, he said, ‘Farewell, bandsman; hallo, corporal! My place, you see, is with my master.’ And off he rode, reaching me just as the commandant, having ordained my release, was doing me such honour. The commandant arranged for my horses to be stabled at an inn until I’d decided where I wanted to live, at the same time saying how lucky I was to have so loyal a servant. He expressed surprise that a common dragoon (and one so young!) could afford such fine horses and costly tack. He also praised one of the horses just as I was taking my leave to go to said inn – praised it so highly, in fact, that I saw immediately he’d have liked to buy it for himself but was too polite to make me an offer. So I told him I’d be greatly obliged if he’d do me the honour of accepting it as a gift. He declined, though, not so much because he thought he could actually do without the beast, more because I was well sloshed at the time and he was keen to avoid gossip about him sweet-talking a drunk into a deal the drunk might later regret.
That night I pondered how to shape my future. I decided that for six months I’d stay where I was. Winter was just around the corner, and I’d spend it resting. I had enough money to see me through, even without touching my hoard in Cologne. In that time, I told myself, you’ll grow to maturity and reach your full strength. Then spring will be here and you can return to the Imperial ranks refreshed.
Early next morning I dissected my saddle, which was much better stuffed than the one I’d given to the cornet. After that I had my best horse brought to the colonel’s quarters, informing that officer of my decision to spend the six months during which I’d agreed to refrain from fighting living quietly here under the colonel’s protection. I’d have no use for horses, I told him, but it would be a shame to see them go to rack and ruin, so would he be so good as to find room among his own mounts for (I gestured towards the magnificent animal) this wretched nag? And would he kindly accept same in token of my grateful acknowledgement of favours received? The colonel thanked me courteously, and that same afternoon sent his chief steward round with a live fatted ox, two plump pigs, a tun of wine, four casks of beer and twelve cartloads of firewood – all to welcome me to the new lodgings I had just taken for six months. Along with the gift he sent word that, noting my decision to stay in his town for a while and finding it easy to imagine that the food situation might be awkward to begin with, he was sending me a drop of drink and a bite to eat, together with something to cook it on. He added that, if there was any way he could be of assistance, he’d be happy to oblige. I thanked the commandant (I hope, adequately) in return, tipped the steward two ducats, and asked him to give his master my best wishes.
Clearly, my generosity towards the colonel had been much appreciated, so I decided to reward your common man, too; I didn’t want to seem niggardly. So in the presence of my new landlord I summoned my servant and said to him, ‘Dear Nicolas, you’ve shown me greater loyalty than a master can expect of his servant. Without wishing to sink further into your debt, and having no master myself these days and no fighting to do that might produce the income for your wages (plus I intend to live rather more modestly from now on so won’t really be needing a servant), I’d be grateful if you’d accept this other horse, complete with saddle, tack and pistols. That will do you, I hope, while you look around for a new master. If I can be of service to you at some future time, I trust you’ll look me up then.’ Speechless with grief, Nicolas kissed my hand. He refused outright to take the horse, suggesting I sell it and live off the proceeds. I did finally persuade him to accept it, but only by promising to take him back into service as soon as I needed someone. The landlord, witnessing our farewell, was so touched he even welled up a little, and while my servant sang my praises among the soldiery, the man who put a roof over my head praised me highly to the townsfolk. This was no ordinary fellow, he told them. As for the commandant, in his eyes I was so sound he could build whole castles on my word. Not only had I stuck by my oath to the Emperor; I was also adhering to the undertakings I’d made under oath to himself – to the extent, in fact, of getting rid of my splendid horses, my weaponry and my trusty servant.