ill' U- THE FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD PROM MARATHON TO WATERLOO BY E. S. CREASY PUOFKSSOR OP ANCIENT AND MODERN HISTORY IN INIVKRSITY COLLEGE, LONDON LATE FELLOW IN KlNO's COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE Tliose few battles of which a contrary event would have essentially varied the drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes.— Hallam New York S. W. GREEN'S SON, PUBLISHER 74 AND 76 Beekman Street 1S85 Printed and Bound at the Establishments of the Publisher, S. W. GREEN'S SON, 74 and 76 Beekman and 13 and 15 Vandewater Streets, New York City. PREFACE. It is an honorable characteristic of the spirit of this age, that projects of violence and warfare are regarded among civilized states with gradually increasing aversion. The Universal Peace Society certainly does not, and probably never will, enroll the majority of statesmen among its members. But even those who look upon the appeal of battle as occasionally unavoidable in international controversies, concur in thinking it a deplorable necessity, only to be resorted to when all peaceful modes of arrangement have been vainly tried, and when the law of self-defense justifies a state, like an individual, in using force to protect itself from imminent and serious injury. For a writer, therefore, of the present day to choose battles for his favorite topic, merely because they were battles ; merely because so many myriads of troops were arrayed in them, and so many hundreds of thousands of human beings stabbed, hewed, or shot each other to death during them, would argue strange weakness or depravity of mind. Yet it can not be denied that a fearful and wonderful interest is attached to these scenes of carnage. There is undeniable greatness in the disci- plined courage, and in the love of honor, which makes the combat- ants confront agony and destruction. And the powers of the human intellect are rarely more strongly displayed than they are in the commander who regulates, arrays, and wields at his will these masses of armed disputants ; who, cool, yet daring in the midst of peril, reflects on all, and provides for all, ever ready with fresh resources and designs, as the vicissitudes of the storm of slaughter require. But these qualities, however high they may appear, are to be found in the basest as well as in the noblest of mankind. Catiline was as brave a soldier as Leonidas, and a iii iv PREFACE. much better officer. Alva surpassed the Prince of Orange in the field ; and Suwarrow was the military superior of Kosciusko. To adopt the emphatic words of Byron, 'Tis the cause makes all. Degrades or hallows courage In Its fall. There are some battles, also, which claim our attention, inde- pendently of the moral worth of the combatants, on account of their enduring importance, and by reason of the practical influence on our own social and political condition, which we can trace up to the results of those engagements. They have for us an abiding and actual interest, both while we investigate the chain of causes and eflfects by which they have helped to make us what we are, and also while we speculate on what we probably should have been, if any one of those battles had come to a different termina- tion. Hallam has admirably expressed this in his remarks on the victory gained by Charles Martel, between Tours and Poictiers, over the invading Saracens. He says of it that " it may justly be reckoned among those few battles of which a contrary event would have essentially varied the drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes : with Mara- thon, Arbela, the Metaurus, Chalons, and Leipsic." It was the perusal of this note of Hallam 's that first led me to the considera- tion of my present subject. I certainly differ from that great his- torian as to the comparative importance of some of the battles which he thus enumerates, and also of some which he omits. It is probable, indeed, that no two historical inquirers would entirely agree in their lists of the Decisive Battles of the "World. Different minds will naturally vary in the impressions which particular events make on them, and in the degree of interest with which they watch the career, and reflect on the importance of different historical personages. But our concurring in our catalogues is of little moment, provided we learn to look on these great historical events in the spirit which Hallam's observations indicate. Those remarks should teach us to watch how the interests of many states are often involved in the collisions between a few ; and how the effect of those collisions is not limited to a single age, but may give an impulse which will sway the fortunes of successive PREFACE. V generations of mankind. ' Most valuable, also, is the mental dis- cipline which is thus acquired, and by which we are trained not only to observe what has been and what is, but also to ponder on what might have been.* We thus learn not to judge of the wisdom of measures too ex- clusively by the results. We learn to apply the juster standard of seeing what the circumstances and the probabilities were that surrounded a statesman or a general at the time when he decided on his plan ; we value him, not by his fortune, but by his n/ioiapedii, to adopt the expressive word of Polybius.t for which our language gives no equivalent. The reasons why each of the following fifteen battles has been selected will, I trust, appear when it is described. But it may be well to premise a few remarks on the negative tests which have led me to reject others, which at first sight may appear equal in magnitude and importance to the chosen fifteen . I need hardly remark that it is not the number of killed and wounded in a battle that determines its general historical import- ance.! It is not because only a few hundreds fell in the battle by which Joan of Arc captured the Tourelles and raised the siege of Orleans, that the efiect of that crisis is to be judged ; nor would a full belief in the largest number which Eastern historians state to have been slaughtered in any of the numerous conflicts between Asiatic rulers, make me regard the engagement in which they fell as one of paramount importance to mankind. But, besides battles of this kind, there are many of great consequence, and attended with circumstances which powerfully excite our feelings and rivet our attention, and yet which appear to me of mere secondary rank, inasmuch as either their efi'ects were limited in area, or they them- selves merely confirmed some great tendency or bias which an earlier battle had originated. For example, the encounters be- tween the Greeks and Persians, which followed Marathon, seem to me not to have been phenomena of primary impulse. Greek superiority had been already asserted, Asiatic ambition had already been checked, before Salamis and Platrpa confirmed the superiority * See BoUngbroke "On tne Study and Lse of History," vol. 11., p. 497, of his collected notes. 1 Polyb., lib. ix., sect. 9. t See Montesquieu, " Urandeur et Decadence des RomalnB," p. 35. ▼1 PREFACK of European free states over Oriental despotism. So ^gospotamos, wnich finally crushed the maritime power of Athens, seems to me inferior in interest to the defeat before Syracuse, where Athens received her first fatal check, and after which she only struggled to retard her downfall. 1 think similarly of Zama with respect to Carthage, as compared with the Metaurus ; and, on the same principle, the subsequent great battles of the Revolutionary war appear to me inferior in their importance to Valmy, which first determined the military character and career of the French Eevo- lution. I am aware that a little activity of imagination and a slight exercise of metaphysical ingenuity may amuse us by showing how the chain of circumstances is so linked together, that the smallest skirmish, or the slightest occurrence of any kind, that ever occur- red, may be said to have been essential in its actual termination to the whole order of subsequent events. But when I speak of causes and efi"ects, I speak of the obvious and important agency of one fact upon another, and not of remote and fancifully infini- tesimal influences. I am aware that, on the other hand, the re- proach of Fatalism is justly incurred by those who, like the writers of a certain school in a neighboring country, recognize in history nothing more than a series of necessary phenomena, which follow inevitably one upon the other. But when, in this work, I speak of probabilities, I speak of human probabilities only. When I speak of cause and effect, I speak of those general laws only by which we perceive the sequence of human affairs to be usually regulated, and in which we recognize emphatically the wisdom and power of the supreme Lawgiver, the design of the Designer. MrrBE Court Chambers, Temple) June 26, 1861. f CONTENTS. CHAPTER L Page. The Battle of Maeathon . 11 Explanatory Remarks on some of the Circumstances of the Battle of Marathon 36 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Marathon, e.g. 490, and the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, b.o. 413 38 CHAPTER n. Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, b. c. 413 . . 40 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse and the Battle of Arbela 56 CHAPTER m. The Battle of A-rbela, b.c. 331 57 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Arbela and the ' Battle of the Metaurus 76 CHAPTER IV. The Battle of ths Metaurus b.c. 207 79 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of the Metaurus, b.c. 207, and Arminius's Victory over the Roman Legions under Varus, A.D. 9 101 vii viii C0N2ENTS. CHAPTEB V. Page. ViOTOHT OP ArMINITTS OVER THE EoMAN LeOIONS UNDER VaBTTS, A.D. 9 104 Arminius 116 Synopsis of Events between Arminius's Victory over Varus and the Battle of Chalons 124 CHAPTER VI. The Battle of Chai/)ns, a.d. 451. 125 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Chalons, a.d. 451, and the Battle of Tours, 732 138 CHAPTER VII. The Battle of Tours, a.d. 732 138 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Tours, a.d. 732, and the Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1429 147 CHAPTER VIII. The Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1066 149 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1066, and Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, a.d. 1429 .... 175 CHAPTER IX. Joan op Arc's Victory over the English at Orleans, a.d. 1429 178 Synopsis of Events between Joan of Arc's Victory of Orleans, A.D. 1429, and the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, a.d. 1588.... 194 CHAPTER X. The Defeat op the Spanish Armada, a.d. 1588 ' 195 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, ■ A.D. 1588, and the Battle of Blenheim, aj). 1704 215 CHAPTER XI. The Battle op Blenheim, a.d. 1704 216 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Blenheim, a.d. 1704, and the Battle of Pultowa, a.d. 1709 235 CHAPTER XIL The Battle op Pcltowa, a.d. 1709 236 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Pultowa, a.d. 1709, and the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, a.d. 1777 247 CONTENTS. ix CHAPTEE XIII. Victory of the Americans ovee Buegoxne at Saratoga, a.d. 1777 249 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, A.D. 1777, and the Battle of Valmy a.d. 1792 267 CHAPTEE XIV. The Battle of Valjit, a.d. 1792 267 (Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Valmy, a.d. 1792, and the Battle of Waterloo, a.d. 1815 280 CHAPTEE XV. The Battle of Waterloo, a.d. 1815. Fifteen Decisive Battles Of the World. CHAPTER I. THE BATTLE OF MAEATHON. Qiilbus actus uterque Europne atque Aslae f atls concurrent orttls. Two THOTTSAND three liundred and forty years ago, a council of Athenian officers was summoned on the slope of one of the moun- tains that look over the plain of Marathon, on the eastern coast of Attica. The immediate subject of their meeting was to consider whether they should give battle to an enemy that lay encamped on the shore beneath them; but on the resuK of their deliberations depended, not merely the fate of two armies, but the whole future progress of human civilization. There were eleven members of that council of war. Ten were the generals who were then annually elected at Athens, one for each of the local tribes into which the Athenians were divided. Each general led the men of his own tribe, and each was invested with equal military authority. But one of the archons was also associated with them in the general command of the army. This magistrate was termed the polemarch or War-ruler; he had the privilege of leading the right wing of the army in battle, and his vote in a council of war was equal to that of any of the generals. A noble Athenian named Callimachus was the War-ruler of this year; and as such, stood listening to the earnest discussion of the ten generals. They had, indeed, deep matter for anxiety, though little aware how momentous to mankind were the votes they were about to give, or how the generations to come would read with interest the record of their discussions. They saw before them the invad- ing forces of a mighty empire, which had in the last fifty j'ears shattered and enslaved nearly all the kingdoms and principalities of the then known world. Thev knew that all the resources of - ' 11 19 DECISIVE BATTLES. their own country were compiised in the little army intrueted to their giiidance. They eaw before them a chosen host of the Great King, sent to wreak his special wrath on that country, and on the other insolent little Greek community, which had dared to aid his rebels and burn the capital of one of his provinces. That victo- rious host had already fulfilled half its mission of vengeance. Eretria, the confederate of Athens in the bold march against Sardis nine years before, had fallen in the last few days, and the Athenian generals could discern from the heights the island of .ffigilia, in which the Persians had deposited their Eretrian prisoners, whom they had reserved to be led away captives into Upper Asia, there to hear their doom from the lips of King Darius himself. Moreover, the men of Athens knew that in the camp before them was their own banished tja-ant, who was seeking to be reinstated by foreign cimeters in despotic sway over any remnant of his countrymen that might survive the sack of their town, and might be left behind as too worthless for leading away into Median bondage. The numerical disparity between the force which the Athenian commanders had under them, and that which they were called on to encounter, was hopelessly apparent to some of the council. The historians who wrote nearest to the time of the battle do not pretend to give any detailed statements of the numbers engaged, but there are sufiicient data for our making a general estimate. Every free Greek was trained to military duty; and, from the in- cessant border wars between the different states, few Greeks reached the age of 'manhood without having seen some service. But the muster-roll of free Athenian citizens of an age fit for military duty never exceeded thirty thousand, and at this epoch probably did not amount to two-thirds of that number. Moreover, the poorer por- tion of these were unprovided with the equipments, and untrained to the operations of the regular infantry. Some detachments of the best-armed troops would be required to garrison the city itself and man the various fortified posts in the territory; so that it is impos- sible to reckon the fully equipped force that marched from Athens to Marathon when the news of the Persian landing arrived, at high- er than ten thousand men. * With one exception, the other Greeks held back from aiding them. Sparta had promised assistance, but the Persians had land- ed on the sixth day of the moon, and a religious scruple delayed the march of Spartan troops till the moon should have reached its • The historians, who lived long after the time of the battle, such as Jus- tin, Plutarch, and otiiers. give ten thousand as the number of the Athenian army. Not much reUance could be placed on their authority, if unsupported by other evidence ; but a calculation made for the number of the Athenian free population remarkably confirms it. For the data of this, see Boeckh's "Public Economy of Athens," vol. 1., p. 45. Some McrotKot probably served as Hoplites at Marathon, but the number ol resident aliens at Athens cannot have been large at this period. BATTLE OF MARATHON. 13 full. From one quarter only, and that from a most unexpected one, did Athens receive aid at the moment of her great peril. Some years before this time the little state of Plataea in Boeotia, being hard pressed by her powerful neighbor, Thebes, had asked the protection of Athens, and had owed to an Athenian army the rescue of her independence. Now when it was noised over Greece that the Mede had come from the uttermost parts of the earth to destroy Athens, the brave Platseans, unsolicited, marched with their whole force to assist the defense, and to share the fortunes of their benefactors. The general levy of the Platseans only amount- ed to a thousand men; and this little column, marching from their city along the southern ridge of Mount Cithseron, and thence across the Attic territory, joined the Athenian forces above Marathon al- most immediately before the battle. The re-enforcement was num- erically small, but the gallant spirit of the men who composed it must have made it of ten-fold value to the Athenians; and its pres- ence must have gone far to dispel the cheerless feeling of being deserted and friendless, which the delay of the Spartan succors was calculated to create among the Athenian ranks.* This generous daring of their weak but true-hearted ally was never forgotten at Athens. The Plataeans were made the civil fel- low-countrymen of the Athenians, except the right of exercising certain political functions ; and from that time forth, in the solemn sacrihces at Athens, the public prayers were offered up for a joint blessing from Heaven upon the Athenians, and the Platasans also. After the junction of the column from Platsea, the Athenian com- mandera must have had under them about eleven thousand fully- armed and disciplined infantry, and jirobably a larger number of irregular light-armed troops; as, besides the poorer citizens who went to the field armed with javelins, ciitlasses, and targets, each regular heavy-armed soldier was attended in the camp by one or more slaves, who were armed like the inferior freemen, f Cavalry or archers the Athenians (on this occasion) had none; and the use in the field of military engines was not at that period introduced into ancient warfare. • Mr. Grote observes (vol. iv., p. 464) that "this volimteer march of tlie whole Platasan force to Marathon Is one of the most affecting Incidents of all Grecian lilstx)ry." In truth, the whole career of Plataea, and the friendship, strong, even unto death, between her and Athens, form one of the most af- fecting episodes In the history of antiquity. In the Peloponneslan war the Platseans again were true to the Athenians against all risks, and all calcula- tion of self-Interest; and the desti-uctlon of Plataea was the consequence. There are few nobler passages In the classics than the speech In which the Platsean prisoners of war, after the memorable siege of their city. Justify tjefore their Spartan executioners their loyal adherence to Athens. See Thacydldes. lib. HI , sees, ss-co. t At the battle of Platffia, eleven years after Marathon, each of the eight thousand Athenian regular Infantry who served them was attended by a light-armed slave.—Ilerotl., lib. vlll., c. 2S, 2» 14 DECISIVE BATTLES. Contrasted with tlieir own scanty forces, the Greek commanders saw stretched before them, afong the shores of the winding bay, the tents and shipping of the varied nations who marched to do the bidding of the king of the Eastern world. The difficulty of finding transports and of securing provisions would form the only limit to the numbers of a Persian army. Nor is there any reason to suppose the estimate of Justin exaggerated, who rates at a hun- dred thousand the force which on this occasion had sailed, under the satraps Datis and Artaphernes, from the Cilician shores against the devoted coasts of Euboea and Attica. And after largely deduct- ing from this total, so as to allow for mere mariners and camp fol- lowers, there must still have remained fearful odds against the national levies of the Athenians. Nor could Greek generals then feel that confidence in the superior quality of their troops, which ever since the battle of Marathon has animated Europeans in con- flicts with Asiatics; as, for instance, in the after struggles between Greece and Persia, or when the Roman legions encountered the myriads of Mithradates and Tigranes, or as is the case in the In- dian campaigns of our own regiments . On the contrary, up to the day of Marathon the Medes and Persians were reputed invincible. They had more than once met Greek troops in Asia Minor, in Cyprus, in Egypt, and had invariably beaten them. Nothing can be stronger than the expressions used by the early Greek writers respecting the terror which the name of the Medes inspired, and the prostration of men's sjairits before the apparently resistless career of the Persian arms. * >It is, therefore, little to be wondered at, that five of the ten Athenian generals shrank from the prospect of fighting a pitched battle against an enemy so siaperior in num- bers and so formidable in military renown. Their own position on the heights was strong, and oflered great advantages to a small defending force against assailing masses. They deemed it mere foolhardiness to descend into the plain to be trampled down by the Asiatic horse, overwhelmed with the archery, or cut to pieces by the invincible veterans of Cambyses and Cyrus. Moreover, Sparta, the great war-state of Greece, had been applied to, and had promised succor to Athens, though the religious observance which the Dorians paid to certain times and seasons had for the present delayed their march. Was it not wise, at any rate, to wait till the Spartans came up, and to have the help of the best troops in Greece, before they exposed themselves to the shock of the dreaded Medes? * ABr/vaioi TCpcSroi dvsdxovTo IdOf^rd re Mt/Sihvv opscov- TEi, Kai Tovi avSpai ravrr/v kdOyjuevovi- ricoi ok J/v roi6i 'EXXtj6i Hal ro ovvojua roSv Mr/door cpoaoi dnovdai, — Hebo- DOTUS lib. vi., c. 112. Al SLyvQDfxai dedovXoojuEvai dndvrcov arBpcoTtoov r^dav ovToo TtoXAd xaiM^ydXa xai judxiM<^ yavyHaradedovXoo/aevTf ?fv 7) nEp6(3v doxy. — PiiicTO, Menexenua. BATTLE OF MARATHON. 15 Specious as these reasons might appear, the other five generals were for speedier and bolder operations. And, fortunately for Athens and for the world, one of them was a man, not only of the highest military genius, but also of that energetic character, which impresses its own type and ideas upon spirits feebler in conception. Miltiades was the head of one of the noblest houses at Athens ; he ranked the ^acidae'among his ancestry, and the blood of Achilles flowed in the veins of the hero of Maratlion. One of his immedi- ate ancestors had acquired the dominion of the Thracian Cher- sonese, and thus the family became at the same time Athenian citi- zens and Thracian princes. This occurred at the time when Pisis- tratus was tyrant of Athens. Two of the relatives of Miltiades— an uncle of' the same name, and a brother named Stesagoras — had ruled the Chersonese oefore Miltiades became its prince. He had been brought up at Athens in the house of his father, Cimon,* who was renowned throughout Greece for his victories in the Olympic chariot-races, and who must have been possessed of great wealth. The sons of fisistratus, who succeeded their father in the tyranny at Athens, caused Cimon to be assassinated;! but they treated the young Miltiades with favor and kindness, and when his brother Stesagoras died in the Chersonese, they sent him out there as lord of the principality. This was about twenty-eight years before the battle of Marathon, and it is with his arrival in the Chersonese that our first knowledge of the career and character of Miltiades commences. We find, in the first act recorded of him, the proof of the same resolute and unscrupulous spirit that marked his mature age. His brother's authority in the principality had been shaken by war and revolt ; Miltiades determined to rule more securely. On his arrival he kept close within his house, as if he was mourning for his brother. The principal men of the Cher- sonese, hearing of this, assembled from all the towns and districts, and went together to the house of Miltiades, on a visit of condo- lence. As soon as he had thus got them in his power, he made them all prisoners. He then asserted and maintained his own absolute authority in the peninsula, taking into his pay a body of five hundred regular troops, and strengthening his interest by marrying the daughter of the king of the neighboring Thracians. "When the Persian power was extended to the Hellespont and its neighborhood, Miltiades, as prince of the Chersonese, submit- ted to King Darius ; and he was one of the numerous tributary rulers who led their contingents of men to serve in the Persian camp, in the expedition against Scythia. Miltiades and the vassal Greeks of Asia Minor were left by the Persian king in charge of the bridge across the Danube, when the invading army crossed that river, and plunged into the wilds of the country that now is Kussia, in vain pursuit of the ancestors of the modern Cossacks. * Herodotus, lib. vl., c. 103. + lb. 16 DECISIVE BATTLES. On learning the reverses that Darius met with in the Scythian •wilderness, Miltiades proposed to his companions that they should break the bridge down, and leave the Persian king and his army to perish by famine and the Scythian arrows. The rulers of the Asiatic Greek cities, whom Miltiades addressed, shrank from this bold but ruthless stroke against the Persian power, and Darius returned in safety. But it was known what advice Miltiades had given, and the vengeance of Darius was thenceforth specially directed against the man who had counseled such a deadly blow against his empire and his person. The occupation of the Persian arms in other quarters left Miltiades for some years afte- this in possession of the Chersonese ; but it was precarious and inter- rupted. He, however, availed himself of the opportunity which his position gave him of conciliating the good-will of his fellow- countrymen at Athens, by conquering and placing under the Athenian authority the islands of Lemnos and Imbros, to which Athens had ancient claims, but which she had never previously been able to bring into complete subjection. At length, in 494, B. c, the complete suppression of the Ionian revolt by the Per- sians left their armies and fleets at liberty to act against the enemies of the Great King to the west of the Hellespont. A strong squadron of Phenician galleys was sent against the Cherso- nese. Miltiades knew that resistance was hopeless; and while the Phenicians were at Tenedos, he loaded five galleys with all the treasure that he could collect, and sailed away for Athens. The Phenicians fell in with him, and chased him hard along the north of the Mgea.n. One of his galleys, on board of which was his eldest son, Metiochus, was actually captured. But Miltiades, with the other four, succeeded in reaching the friendly coast of Imbros in safety. Thence he afterward proceeded to Athens, and re- sumed his station as a free citizen of the Athenian commonwealth. The Athenians, at this time, had recently expelled Hippias, the son of Pisistratus, the last of their tyrants. They were in the full glow of their newly-recovered liberty and equality ; and the constitutional changes of Cleisthenes had inflamed their re- publican zeal to the utmost. Miltiades had enemies at Athens ; and these, availing themselves of the state of popular feeling, brought him to trial for his life for having been tyrant of the Chersonese. The charge did not necessary import any acts of cruelty or wrong to individuals : it was founded on no specific law ; but it was based on the horror with which the Greeks of that age regarded every man who made himself arbitrary master of his fellow-men, and exercised irresponsible dominion over them. The fact of Miltiades having so ruled in the Chersonese was un- deniable but the question which the Athenians assembled in judgment must have tried, was whether Miltiades, although tyrant of the Chersonese, deserved punishment as an Athenian citizen. The eminent service that he had done the state in con- BATTLE OF MARATHON. 17 quering Lemnos and Imbros for it, pleaded strongly in liii5 favor. The people refused to convict him. He stood high in public opin- ion. And when the coming invasion of the Persians was known, the people wisely elected him one of their generals for the year. Two other men of high eminence in history, though their re- nown was achieved at a later period than that of Miltiades, were also among the ten Athenian generals, at Marathon. One was Themistocles, the future founder of the Athenian navy, and the destined victor of SaLimis. The other was Aristides, who after- w?ird led the Athenion troops at Platsea, and whose integrity and just popularity acquired for his country, when the Persians had finally been repulsed, the advantageous pre-eminence of being acknowledged by half of the Greeks as their imperial leader and protector. It is not recorded what part either Themistocles or Aristides took in the debate of the counsel of war at Marathon. But, from the character of Themistocles, his boldness, and his intuitive genius for extemporizing the best measures in every emergency* (a quality which the greatest of historians ascribes to him beyond all his contemporaries), we may well believe that the vote of Themistocles was for prompt and decisive action. On the vote of Aristides it may be more difficult to speculate. His predilection for the Spartans may have made him wish to wait till they came up ; but though circiimspect, he was neither timid as a soldier nor as a politician, and the bold advice of Mil- tiades may probably have found in Aristides a willing, most as- suredly it found in him a candid, hearer. Miltiades felt no hesitation as to the course which the Athenian army ought to pursue; and earnestly did he press his opinion on his brother-generals. Practically acquainted with the organization of the Persian armies, Miltiades felt convinced of the superiority of the Greek troops, if properly handled ; he saw with the military eye of a great general the advantage which the position of the forces gave him for a sudden attack, and as a profound politician he felt the perils of remaining inactive, and of giving treachery time to ruin the Athenian cause. One officer in the council of war had not yet voted. This was Oallimachus, the War-ruler. The votes of the generals were five and five, so that the voice of Callimachus would be decisive. On that vote, in all human probability, the destiny of all the nations of the world depended. Miltiades turned to him, and in simple soldierly eloquence, the substance of which we may read faithfully reported in Herodotus, who had conversed with the vet- * See the character of Themistocles In the I38th section of the first book of Thucydldes, especially the 2ast sentence. Kai to ^vjLinav eineiv cpvdsooi ntv dvvdjiiei //fA^'r?/? 6e fJfjaxvTTfzt xfidri' droi Stj otto's avro^x^SieiZstv to. biovxa. iyivEzo. 18 DECISIVE BATTES. erans of Marathon, the great Athenian thus adjiired his country- men to vote for giving battle. "It now rests with you, C'allimachus, either to enslave Athens, or, by assuring her freedom, to win yoiirself an immortality of fame, such as not even Harmodius and Aristogeiton have acquired; for never, since the Athenians were n people, were they in such danger as they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to these Medes, they are to be given up to Hippias, and you know ■what they then will have to suffer. But if Athens comes victo- rious out of this contest, she has it in her to become the first city of Greece. !Your vote is to decide whether we are to join battle or not. If we do not bring on a battle presently, some factious in- trigue will disunite the Athenians, and the city will be betrayed to the Medes. But if we fight, before there is anything rotten in the state of Athens, I believe that, provided the gods will give fair play and no favor, we are able to get the best of it in an engage- ment."* The vote of the brave War-ruler was gained; the council deter- mined to give battle; and such was the ascendency and acknowl- edged military eminence of Miltiades, that his brother generals one and all gave up their days of command to him, and cheerfully acted under his orders. Fearful, however, of creating any jealousy, and of so failing to obtain the vigorous co-operation of all parts of his small army, Miltiades waited till the day when the chief com- mand would have come round to him in regular rotation before he led the troops against the enemy. The inaction of the Asiatic commanders during this interval appears strange at first sight; but Hippias was with them, and tliey and he were aware of their chance of a bloodless conquest through the machinations of his partisans among the Athenians. The nati;re of the groiind also explains in many points the tactics of the opposite generals before the battle, as well as the operations of the troops during the engagement. The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty-two miles distant from Athens, lies along the bay of the same name on the north- * Herodotus, lib. vl., sec. 109. The lietli section is to my mln& clear proof that Herodotus had personally conversed with Eplzelus, one of the veterans of Marathon. The substance of the speech of Miltiades would naturally become known by the report of some of his colleagues. The speeches which ancient historians place in the mouths of kings and generals are generally inventions of tlieir own ; but part of this speech of Miltiades bears internal evidence of authenticity. Such is the case with the remark- able expression )jv ds ^vjupa'Aoo/iev itpiv ti nai daOpov 'ABrjvaioDv xere^ere'poidi eyyeve'GOai, Bscav rd Ida v£/u6vtoov, oloi ts £i/ii£v 7t£piyEV£6f}ai rfj dv/i/3oA^f/. This daring and almost Irreverent assertion would never have been coined by Herodotus, but It Is precisely consonant with what we know of the character of JVlUtiades ; and it is an expression which, if used by him, would be sure to be remembered and repeated by his hearere. BATTLE OF MARATHON. IJ eastern coast of Attica. The plain is nearly in the form of a cres- cent, and about six miles in length. It is about two miles broad in the center, where the space between the mountains and the sea is greatest, but it narrows toward either extremity, the mountains coming close down to the water at the horns of the bay. There is a valley trending inward from the middle of the plain, and a ravine comes down to it to the southward. Elsewhere it is closely girt round on the land side by rugged limestone mountains, which are thickly studded with pines, olive-trees, and cedars, and overgrown with the myrtle, arbutus, and the other low odoriferous shrubs that everywhere perfume the Attic air. The level of the ground is now varied by the mound raised over those who fell in the battle, but it was an unbroken plain when the Persians encamped on it. There are marshes at each end, which are dry in spring and summer, and then offer no obstniction to the horseman, but are commonly flooded with rain and so rendered impracticable for cavalry in the autumn, the time of year at which the action took place. The Greeks, lying encamped on the mountains, could watch every movement of the Persians on the plain below, while they were enabled completely to mask their own. Miltiades also had from his position, the power of giving battle whenever he pleased, or of delaying it at this discretion, unless Datis were to attempt the perilous operation of storming the heights. If we turn to the map of the Old World, to test the comparative territorial resources of the two states whose armies were now about to come into conflict, the immense preponderance of the material power of the Persian king over that of the Athenian re- public is more striking than any similar contrast which history can supply. It has been truly remarked, that, in estimating mere areas, Attica, containing on its whole surface only seven hundred square miles, shrinks into insignificance, if compared with many a baronial fief of the Middle Ages, or many a colonial allotment of modern times. Its antagonist, the Persian Empire, comprised the whole of modern Asiatic and much of modern Eu- ropean Turkey, the modern kingdom of Per.sia, and the countries of modern Georgia, Armenia, Balkh, the Punjaub, Afghanistan, Beloochistan, Egypt, and Tripoli. Nor could a European, in the beginning of the fifth century be- fore our era, look upon this huge accumulation of power beneath the scepter of a single Asiatic ruler with the indifl"erence with which we now observe on the map the extensive dominions of modern Oriental sovereigns; for, as has been already remarked, before Marathon was fought, the prestige of success and of sup- posed superiority of race was on the side of the Asiatic against the European. Asia was the original seat of human societies, and long before any trace can be found of the inhaVjitants of the rest of the world having emerged from the rude.st barbarism, we can perceive that mighty and brilliant empires flourished in the Asi- 20 DECISIVE BATTLES. atic continent. They appear before us through the twilight of primeval historj', dim and indistinct, but massive and majestic, like mountains in the early dawn. Instead, however, of the infinite variety and restless change which has characterized the institiitions and fortunes of European states ever since the commencement of the civilization of our con- tinent, a monotonous uniformity pervades the histories of nearly all Oriental empires, from the most ancient down to the most re- cent times. They are characterized by the rapidity of their early conquests, by the immense extent of the dominions comprised in them, by the estfiblishment of a satrap or pashaw system of gov- erning the provinces, by an invariable and speedy degeneracy in the princes of the royal house, the effeminate nurslings of the seraglio siicceeding to the warrior sovereigns, reared in the camp, and by the internal anarchy and insurrections which indicate and accelerate the decline and fall of these unwieldy and ill-organized fabrics of power. It is also a striking fact that the governments of all the great Asiatic empires have in all ages been absolute des- potisms. And Heeren is right in connecting this with another great fact, which is important from its influence both on the po- litical and the social life of Asiatics. "Among all the considerable nations of Inner Asia, the paternal government of every household was corrupted by polj^gamy: where that custom exists, a good po- litical constitution is impossible. Fathers, being converted into domestic despots, are ready to pay the same abject obedience to their sovereign which they exact from their family and depen- dents in their domestic economy." We should bear in mind, also, the inseparable connection between the state religion and all leg- islation which has always prevailed in the East, and the constant existence of a powerful sacerdotal body, exercising some check, though precarious and irregular, over the throne itself, grasping at all civil administration, claiming the supreme control of educa- tion, stereotyping the lines in which literature and science must move, and limiting the extent to which it shall be lawful for the human mind to prosecute its inquiries. With these general characteristics rightly felt and understood, it becomes a comparatively easy task to investigate and appreciate the origin, progress, and principles of Oriental empires in gener- al, as well as of the Persian monarchy in particular. And we are thus better enabled to appreciate the repulse which Greece gave to the arms of the East, and to iudge of the probable consequences to human civilization, if the Persians had succeeded in bring- ing Europe under their yoke, as they had already subjugated the fairest portions of the rest of the then known world. The Greeks, from their geographical position, formed the nat- ural van-guard of European liberty again.st Persian ambition; and they pre-eminently displayed the salient points of distinctive na- tional character which have rendered European civilization so &t BATTLE OF MARATHOK 21 superior to Asiatic. The nations that dwelt in_ ancient times around and near the northern shores of the Mediterranean Sea, were the first in our continent to receive from the East the riuli- ments of art and literature, and the germs of social and political organitations. Of these nations the Greeks, through their vicin- ity to Asia Minor, Phenicia, and Egypt, were among the very foremost in acquiring the principles and h;ibits of civilized life; and they also at once imparted a new and wholly original stamp on all which they received. Thus, in their religion, they received from foreign settlers the names of all their deities and many of their rites, but they discarded the loathsome monstrosities of the Nile, the Orantt-s, and the Ganges; they nationalized their creed; and their own poets created their beautiful mytliology. No sacer- dotal caste ever existed in Greece. So, in their governments, they lived long under hereditary kings, but never endiired the permanent establishment of absolute monarchy. Their early kings were constitutional rulers, governing with defined preroga- tives.* And long before the Persian invasion, the kingly form of government had given way in almost all the Greek states to re- publican institutions, presenting infinite varieties of the blending or the alternate predominance of the oligarchical and democratical principles. In literature and science the Greek intellect followed no beaten track, and acknowledged no limitary rules. The Greeks thought their subjects boldly out; and the novelty of a specula- tion invested it in their minds with interest, and not with crimi- nality. Versatile, restless, enterprising, and self-confident, the Greeks presented the most striking contrast to the habitual quie- tude and submissiveness of the Orientals; and, of all the Greeks, the Athenians exhibited these national characteristics in the strongest degree. This spirit of activity and daring, joined to a generous sympathy for the fate of their fellow-Greeks in Asia, had led them to join in the last Ionian war; and now mingling with their abhorrence of the usurping family of their own citizens, which for a period had forcibly seized on and exercised despotic power at Athens, nerved them to defy the wrath of King Darius, and to refuse to receive back at his bidding the tyrant whom they had some years before driven out. The enterprise and genius of an Englishman have lately con- firmed by fresh evidence, and invested with fresh interest, the might of the Persian monarch who sent his troops to combat at Marathon. Inscriptions in a character termed the Arrow-headed or Cuneiform, had long been known to exist on the marble mon- uments at Persepolis, near the site of the ancient Susa, and on the faces of rocks in other ])laces formerly ruled over by the early Persian kings. But for thousands of years they had been mere * ''Eni p^^'r:otja. Sea, and by a bold and sudden march upon Sardis, the Athenians and their al- lies succeeded in capturing the capital city of the haughty satrap, who had recently menaced them with servitude or destruction. They were pursued, and defeated on their return to the coast, and Athens took no further part in the Ionian war: but the insult that she had put upon the Persian power was speedily made known throughout that empire, and was never to be forgiven or forgotten. In the emphatic simplicity of the narrative of Herodotus, the wrath of the Great King is thus described: "Now when it was told to King Darius that Sardis had been taken and burned by the Athenians and lonians, he took small heed of the lonians, well knowing who they were, and that their revolt would soon be put down; but he asked who, and what manner of men, the Athenians * Herod., lib. v. c. 96. 24 DECISIVE BATTLES. were. And when he had been told, he called for his bow; and, having taken it, and placed an arrow on the string, he let the ar- row fly toward heaven, and as he shot it into the air, he said, ' Oh! siipreme God, grant me that I may avenge myself on the Athe- nians.' And when he had said this, he appointed one of his ser- vants to say to him every day as he sat at meat, 'Sire, remember the Athenians.'" Some years were occupied in the complete reduction of Ionia. But when this was effected, Darius ordered his victorious forces to proceed to punish Athens and Eretria, and to conquer Euro- pean Greece. The first armament sent for this purpose was shat- tered by shipwreck, and nearly destroyed off Mount Athos. But the purpose of King Darius was not easily shaken. A larger army was ordered to be collected in Cilicia, and requisitions were sent to all the maritime cities of the Persian empire for ships of war, and for transports of sufficient size for carrying cavalry as well as infantry across the .a^gaean. While these preparations were being made, Darius sent heralds round to the Grecian cities demanding their submission to Persia. It was jDroclaimed in the market-place of each little Hellenic state (some with territories not larger than the Isle of Wight) that King Darius, the lord of all men, from the rising to the setting sun,* required earth and water to be delivered to his heralds, as a symbolical acknowledgment that he was head and master of the coimtry. Terror-stricken at the power of Persia and at the severe punishment that had recently been inflicted on the refractory lonians, many of the continental Greeks and nearly all the islanders submitted, and gave the required tokens of vassal- age. At Sjmrta and Athens an indignant refusal was returned — a refusal which was disgraced by outrage Bnd violence against the persons of the Asiatic heralds. Fresh fuel was thus added to the anger of Darius against Ath- ens, and the Persian preparations went on with renewed vigor. In the summer of 490 b. c, the army destined for the invasion was assembled in the Aleian plain of Cilicia, near the sea. A fleet of six hundred galleys and numerous transports was collect- ed on the coast for the embarkation of troops, horse as well as foot. A Median general named Datis, and Artaphernes, the son of the satrap of Sardis, and who was also nephew of Darius, were placed in titular joint command of the expedition. The real supreme authority was probably given to Datis alone, from' * ^EscMnes in ctes., p. 522, ed. Reiske. Mltford, vol. 1 , p. 485. ^scMnes is speaking of Xerxes, but Mitford Is probably right In consideiing it as the styles of the Persian kmgs in their proclamations. In one of the inscriptions at Persepolls, Darius terms himself " Darius, the great king, king of kings, the king of the many- peopled countries, the supporter also of this great world." In another, he styles himself •' the king of all Inhabited countries." (See 'Asiatic Journal," vol. x., p. 287 and 2'J2, and Major Kawlinson's Com- ments). BATTLE OF MARATHON. 25 the way in which the Greek writers speak of him, "We know no details of the previous career of this officer ; but there is every reason to believe that his abilities and bravery had been proved by experience, or his Median birth would have prevented his being placed in high command by Darius. He appears to have been the first Mede who was thus trusted by the Persian kings after the overthrow of the conspiracy of the Median magi against the Persians immediately before Darius obtained the throne. Datis received instructions to complete the subjugation of Greece, and especial orders were given him with regard to Eretria and Athens. He was to take these two cities, and he was to lead the inhabitants away captive, and bring them as slaves into the presence of the Great King. Datis embarked his forces in the fleet that awaited them, and coasting along the shores of Asia Minor till he was off Samos, he thence sailed due westward through the .S^gsean Sea for Greece, taking the islands in his way. The Naxians had, ten years be- fore, successfully stood a siege against a Persian armament, but they now were too terrified to ofier any resistance, and fled to the mountain tops, while the enemy burned their town and laid waste their lands. Thence Datis, compelling the Greek island- ers to join him with their ships and men. sailed onward to the coast of Euboea. The little town of Carystus essayed resistance, but was quickly overpowered. He next attacked Eretria. The Athenians sent i'owi thousand men to its aid ; but treachery was at work among the Eretiians ; and the Athenian force received timely warning from one of the leading men of the city to retire to aid in saving their own country, instead of remaining to share in the inevitable destruction of Eretria. Left to themselves, the Eretrians repulsed the assaults of the Persians against their walls for six days ; on the seventh they were betrayed by two of their chiefs, and the Persians occupied the city. The temples were burned in revenge for the firing of Sardis, and the inhabitants were bound, and placed as prisoners in the neighboring islet of iEgilia, to wait there till Datis should bring the Athenians to join them in cai)tivity, when both populations were to be led into Upper Asia, there to learn their doom from the lips of King Darius himst If. Flushed with success, and with half his mission thus accom- plished, Datis re-embarked his troops, and, crossing the little channel that separates Euboea from the main land, he encamped his troops on the Attic coast at Marathon, drawing up his gal- leys on the shelving beach, as was the custom with the navies of antiquity. The conquered islands behind him served as places of deposit for his pio^ isions and military stores. His po- sition at I^Iarathon seemed to him in every respect advantageous, and the level nature of the ground on which he camped was favorable for the employment of his cavalry, if the Athenians 26 DECISIVE BATTLES. should venture to engage him. Hippias, who accompanied him, and acted as the guide of the invaders, had pointed out Mara- thon as the best place for a landing, for this very reason. Prob- ably Hippias was also influenced by the recollection that forty- seven years previously, he, with his father Pisistratus, had cross- ed with an army from Eretria to Marathon, and had won an easy victory over their Athenian enemies on that very plain, which had restored them to tyrannic power. The omen seemed cheering. The place was the same ; but Hippias soon learned to his cost how great a change had come over the spirit of the Athenians. But though " the fierce democracy" of Athens was zealous and true against foreign invader and domestic tyrant, a faction existed in Athens, as at Eretria, who were willing to purchase a party triumph over their fellow-citizens at the price of their country's ruin. Communications were opened between these men and the Persian camp, which would have led to a catastrophe like that of Eretria, if Miltiades had not resolved and jjersuaded his colleagues to resolve on fighting at all hazards. When Miltiades arrayed his men for action, he staked on the arbitrament of one battle not only the fate of Athens, but that of all Greece; for if Athens had fallen, no other Greek state, except Lacedsemon, would have had the courage to resist; and the Lacedaemonians, though they would probably have died in their ranks to the last man, never could have successfully resisted the victorious Persians and the numerous Greek troops which would have soon marched under the Persian satraps, had they prevailed over Athens. Nor was there any power to the westward of Greece that could have offered an effectual opposition to Persia, had she once con- quered Greece, and made that country a basis for future military operations. Eome was at this time in her season of utmost weak- ness. Her dynasty of powerful Etruscan kings had been driven out; and her infant commonwealth was reeling under the attacks of the Etruscans and Volscians from without, and the fierce dis- sensions between the patricians and plebeians within. Etruria, with her Lucumos and serfs, was no match for Persia. Samniimi had not grown into the might which she afterward put forth; nor could the Greek colonies in South Italy and Sicily hope to conquer when their parent states had perished. Carthage had escaped the Persian yoke in the time of Cambyses, through the reluctance of the Phenician mariners to serve against their kinsmen. But such forbearance could not long have been relied on, and the future rival of Eome would have become as submissive a minister of the Persian power as were the Phenician cities themselves. If we turn to Spain; or if we pass the great mountain chain, which, prolonged through the Pyrenees, the Cevennes, the Alps, and the Balkan, divides Northern from Southern Europe, we shall find BATTLE OF MARATHON. 27 nothing at that period but mere savage Finns, Celte, Slaves and Teutons. Had Persia beaten Athens at Marathon, she could have found no obstacle to prevent Darius, the chosen servant of Ormuzd, from advancing his sway over all the known Western races of mankind. The infant energies of Europe would have been trodden out beneath universal conquest, and the history of the world, like the history of Asia, have become a mere record of the rise and fall of despotic dynasties, of the incursions of barbarous hordes, and of the mental and political prostration of millions beneath the diadem, the tiara and the sword. Great as the prepondennce of the Persian over the Athenian power at that crisis seems to have been, it would be \injust to impute wild rashness to the policy of Miltiades, and those who voted with him in the Athenian council of war, or to look on the after-current of events as the mere fortunate result of successful folly. As before has been remarked, Miltiades, while prince of the Chersonese, had seen service in the Persian armies; and he knew by personal observation how many elements of weakness lurked beneath their imposing aspect of strength. He knew that the bulk of their troops no longer consisted of the hardy shepherds and mountaineers from Persia Proper and Kurdistan, who won Cyrus's battles; but that unwilling contingents from conquered nations now filled up the Persian muster-rolls, fighting more from compulsion than from any zeal in the caiise of their masters. He had also the sagacity and the spirit to appreciate the superiority of the Greek armor and organization over the Asiatic, notwith- standing former reverses. Above all, he felt and worthily trusted the enthusiasm of those whom he led. The Athenians whom he led had proved by their new-born valor in recent wars against the neighboring states that "liberty and equality of civic rights are brave spirit-stirring things, and they who, while imder the yoke of a despot, had been no better men of war than any of their neighbors, as soon as they were free, became the foremost men of all; for each felt that in fighting for a free commonwealth, he fought for himself, and whatever he took in hand, he was zealous to do the work thoroughly." So the nearly contemporaneous historian describes the change of spirit that was seen in the Athenians after their tyrants were expelled ;* and Miltiades knew that in leading them against the invading army, where they had Hipi>ias, the foe they most hated, before them, he was bringing into battle no ordinary men, and could cal- * ^AQr/yaiot /.tsv vvv rjv^rjvro- SrjXoi de ov nar iv /.lovov dX\d itavzaxfj rf Idijyoplrj caS e6vi xp^Uo: dnovdaiov, si xai 'A^7]va1oi TvpavvEvojdEvoi niv ovdajnov taiv dq^eai TtepioiHsd- VToov 'i6av rd itoXejuia djueivovi, dTraXXaxOevrFi Se rvpdv- voov fiaxpco TtpwToi tyevorro' d?/Xol oov ravrcx on xazsxoM- £vot fXEV eOeXoxd xsov, oaS dEdTtori^ epyaZojuevov iXevOepooOe- 28 DECISIVE BATTLES. culate on no ordinary heroism . As for traitors, he was siTSfe, that whatever treachery might hirk among some of the higher-born and weahhier Athenians, the rank and iUa whom he commanded were ready to do their utmost in his and their own cause. With regard to future attacks from Asia, he might reasonably hope that one victory would inspirit all Greece to combine against the common foe; and that the latent seeds of revolt and disunion in the Persian empire would soon burst forth and jaaralyze its energies, so as to leave Greek independence secure. "With these hopes and risks, Miltiades, on the afternoon of a September day, 490 b. c, gave the word for the Athenian army to prepare for battle. There were many local associations connected with those mountain heights which were calculated powerfully to excite the sj^irits of the men, and of which the commanders well knew how to avail themselves in their exhortations to their troops before the encounter. Mai-athon itself was a region sacred to Hercules. Close to them was the fountain of Macaria, who had in days of yore devoted herself to death for the liberty of her people. The very plain on which they were to light was the scene of the exploits of their national hero, Theseus : and there, too, as old legends told, the Athenians and the Heraclida3 had routed the in- vader, Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy myths or idle fictions, but matters of implicit earnest faith to the men of that day, and many a fervent prayer arose from the Athenian ranks to the heroic spirits who, while on earth, had striven and suffered on that very spot, and who were believed to be now heavenly pow- ers, looking down with interest on their still beloved country, and capable of interposing with superhuman aid in its behalf. According to old national custom, the warriors of each tribe were arrayed together ; neighbor thus fighting by the side of neigh- bor, friend by friend, and the spirit of emulation and the con- sciousness of responsibility excited to the very utmost. The War- ruler, Callimachus, had the leading of the right wing ; thePlataeans formed the extreme left ; and Themistocles and Aristides com- manded the center. The line consisted of the heavy armed spear- men only ; for the Greeks (until the time of Iphicrates) took little or no account of light-armed soldiers in a pitched battle, using them only in skirmishes, or for the pursuit of a defeated enemy. vTGJv de avroi £Hadro5 Iodvvoj TtpoQvfXEBzo HarEpyaZs^Bai. — IlEROD, lib. vi., c. 87. Sir. Grote's comment on this is one of tlie most eloquent and phllosopli- ical passages in his admirable fourth volume. The expression 'Idr/yopiij xPVMcc 6itov8aiov Is like some lines In old Barbour's poem of " The Bruce : " " Ah, Fredome is a noble thing ; Fredome maks man to haiff lyklng Fredome all solace to men gives. He lives at case that Ireely lives." BATTLE OF MABATHOK 29 The panoply of the regular infantry consisted of a long spear, of a shield, helmet, bi-east-plate, greaves, and short sword. Thus equipped, they iisually advanced slowly and steadily into action in a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But ths military genius of Miltiades led him to deviate on this occasion from the commonplace tactics of his countrymen. It was essential for him to extend his line so as to cover all the practicable ground, and to secure himself from being outflanked and charged in the rear by the Persian horse. This extension involved the weakening of his line. Instead of a uniform reduction of its strength, he determined on detaching principally from his center, which, from the nature of the ground, would have the best opportunities for rallying, if broken; and on strengthening his wings so as to insure advantage at those points; and he trusted to his own skill and to his soldiers' discipline for the improvement of that advantage into decisive victory. * In this order, and availing himself probably of the inequalities of the ground, so as to^ conceal his preparations from the enemy till the last possible moment, Miltiades drew up the eleven thoi:- sand infantry whose spears were to decide this crisis in the strug- gle between the European and the Asiatic worlds. The sacrifices by which the favor of heaven was sought, and its will consiilted, were announced to show propitious omens. The trumpet sounded for action, and, chanting the hymn of battle, the little army bore down upon the host of the foe. Then, too, along the mountain slopes of Marathon must have resounded the mutual exhortation, which .ffischylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was afterwards heard over the waves of Salamis : "On, sons of the Greek! Strike for the freedom of your country ! strike for the freedom of your children and of your wives — for the shrines of your fathers' gods, and for the sepulchers of your sires. All — all are now Btaked upon the strife. " '/2 TCaiSei ^EXXrjvooi^, ire 'EXsvOepovTE 7raTpiS\ IXsvOepovrs Si ■ IIai6(Xi, yvvmxai, Ssaiv re inxTpoooov edrj, QiJKai TE npoyovoov. Nuv vnkp TtdvzGov dyoov* Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the phalanx Miltiades brought his men on at a run. They were all trained * It is remarkable that there Is no other Instance of a Greek general deviating from the ordinary mode of bringing a phalanx of spearmen Into action until the battles of Leuctra and Mantlnea, more than a centmy alter Marathon, when Kparainondas Introduced the tactics which Alexander the Great In ancient times, and Frederic the Great In modern times, made so famous, of concentrating an overpowering force to bear on some deolslvo point of the enemy's line, while he kept back, or. In military phrase, iclused the weaker part of hla own. " Peraa^," 402. 30 DECISIVE BATTLES. in the exercises of the palaestra, so that there was no fear of their ending the charge in breathless exhaustion ; and it was of the deepest importance for him to ti-averse as rapidly as possible the mile or so of level ground that lay between the mountain foot and the Persian outpost, and so to get his troops into close action before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form and maneuver against him, or their archers kept him long under fire, and before the enemy's generals could fairly deploy their masses. "When the Persians," says Herodotus, "saw the Athenians running down on them, without horse or bowmen, and scanty in numbers, they thought them a set of madmen rushing upon cer- tain destruction . " They began, however, to prepare to receive them, and the Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and place allowed, the varied races who served in their motly ranks. Moun- taineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, wild horsemen from the steppes of Khoi-assan, and black archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from the banks of the Indus, and Oxus, the Euphrates, and the Nile, made ready against the enemies of the great King. But no national cause inspired them except the division of native Per- sians ; and in the large host there was no uniformity of language, creed, race, or military system. Still, among them there were many gallant men, under a veteran general ; they were familiarized with victory, and in contemptuoiis confidence, their infantry which alone had time to form, awaited the Athenian charge. On came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of leveled spears, against which the light targets, the short lances andcimeters of the Orien- tals, offered weak defense. The front rank of the Asiatics must have gone down to a man at the first shock. Still they recoiled not, but strove by individual gallantry and by weight of num- bers to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and tactics, and to bear back the shallow lines of the Europeans. In the center, where the native Persians and the Sacae fought, they suc- ceeded in breaking through the weakened part of the Athenian phalanx ; and the tribes led by Aristides and Themistocles were, after a brave resistance, driven back over the plain, and chased by the Persians up the valley toward the inner country . There the nature of the ground gave the opportunity of rallying and renewing the struggle. Meanwhile, the Greek wings, where Miltiades had concentrated his chief strength, had routed the Asiatics opposed to them ; and the Athenian and Plataean of- ficers, instead of pursuing the fugitives, kept their troops well in hand, and wheeling round, they formed the two wings to, gether. Miltiades instantly led them against the Persian center, which had hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell back, and prepared to encounter those new and unexpected assailants. Aristides and Themistocles renewed the fight with their reorgan- ized troops, and the full force of the Greeks was bro\aght into close action with the Persian and Sacian divisions of the enemy. BATTLE OF MARATHON. 31 Datis's veterans strove hard to keep their ground, and evening* ■>,vas approaching before the stern encounter was decided. Biit the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, destitute of body-armor, and never taught by training to keep the even front and act with the regular movement of the Greek infantry, fought at heavy disadvantage with their shorter and feebler weapons against the compact array of well-armed Athenian and Platsean f3pearmen, all perfectly drilled to perform each necessary evolution in concert, and to preserve a uniform and unwavering line in bat- tle. In personal courage and in bodily activity the Persians "were not inferior to their adversaries. Their spirits were not yet cowed by the recollection of former defeats; and they lavished their lives freely, rather than forfeit the fame which they had won by so many victories. While their rear ranks poured an incessant shower of arrowsf over the heads of their comrades, the foremost Persians kept rushing forward, sometimes singly, sometimes in desperate groups of twelve or ten ujDon the projecting sjjears of the Greeks, striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring their cime- ters and daggers into play.| But the Greeks felt their superiority, and though the fatigue of the long-continued action told heavily on their inferior numbers, the sight of the carnage that they dealt upon their assailants nerved them to fight still more fiercely on. At last the previously unvanquished lords of Asia turned their backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, striking them down, to the water's edge,§ where the invaders were now hastily launching their galleys, and seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with suc- cess, the Athenians attacked and strove to fire the fleet. But here the Asiatics resisted desperately, and the principal loss sustained by the Greeks was in the assault on the ships. Here fell the brave War-ruler Callimachus, the general Stesilaus, and other Athenians of note. Seven galleys were fired; but the Persians succeeded in * 'J/l/V o/icaS ditGodojiisdOa ^vv Oeoii vtpoi edTcepa—XRisTOPu., Vespae. 1084. t 'EjuaxojusdO' avzoi6t, 6v/xov dc,iv7]v TtETiooHOTEZ, 2ra5 ydr/axot, repose. _ A separate tumulus was raised over the bodies of the slain Pla- tfeans, and another over the light-armed slaves who had taken part and had fallen in the battle.f There was also a separate funeral monument to the general to whose genius the victory was mainly ,due. Miltiades did not live long after his achievement at Mara- thon, but he lived long enough to experience a lamentable rover; a , of his popularity and success. As soon as the Persians had quitted the western coasts of the ^gasan, he proposed to an assembly of the Athenian people that they should fit out seventy galleys, with a pi'oportionate force of soldiers and military stores, and place it at his disposal; not telling them whither he meant to lead it, but promising them that if they would equip the force he asked for, and give him discretionary jiowers, he would lead it to a land where there was gold in abundance to be won with ease. The Greeks of that time believed in the existence of Eastern realms teeming with gold, as firmly as the Europeans of the sixteenth century believed in El Dorado of the West. The Athenians prob- ably thought that the recent victor of Marathon, and the former ofiicer of Darius, was about to lead them on a secret expedition against some wealthy and unprotected cities of treasure in the Per- sian dominions. The armament was voted and eqiiipped, and stuled eastward from Attica, no one but Miltiades knowing its dis- tination until the Greek isle of Paros was reached, when his true obj.ration of these sure confederatca aa soon as they could establish a complete blockade. 42 DECISIVE BATTLES. They rarely venttirecl on the attempt to storm any fortified post, for the military engines of antiquity were feeble in breaching masonry before the improvements which the first Dionysius ef- fected in the mechanics of destruction ; and the lives of spear- men the boldest and most high-trained would, of course, have been idly spent in charges against unshattered walls. A city built close to the sea, like Syracuse, was impregnable, save by the combined oijerations of a superior hostile fleet and a superior hostile army ; and Syracuse, from her size, her popu-| lation, and her military and naval resources, not unnaturally! thought herself secure from finding in another Greek city a foe capable of sending a suthcient armament to menace her with capture and subjection. But in the spring of 414 b. c, the Athen- ian navy was mistress of her harbor and the adjacent seas ; an Athenian army had defeated her troojis, and cooped them with- in the town ; and from bay to bay a blockading wall was being rapidly carried across the strips of level ground and the high ridge outside the city (then termed Epipolte), which, if completed, would have cut the Syraciisans off from all succor from the inter- ior of Sicily, and have left them at the mercy of the Athenian generals. The besiegers' works were, indeed, unfinished ; but every day the unfortified interval in their lines grew narrower, and with it diminished all apparent hope of safety for the be- leagured town. Athens was now staking the flower of her forces, and the ac- cumulated fruits of seventy years of glory, on one bold throw for the dominion of the Western world. As Napoleon from Mount Cceur de Lion pointed to St. Jean d'Acre, and told his staff that the capture of that town would decide his destiny and would change the face of the world, so the Athenian officers, from the heights of Epipolae, must have looked on Syracuse, "and felt that with its fall all the known powers of the earth would fall be- neath them. They must have felt, also, that Athens, if rejiulsed there, must pause forever from her career of conquest, and sink from an imperial republic into a ruined and subservient commu- nity. At Marathon, the first in date of the great battles of the world, we beheld Athens struggling for self-preservation against the in- vading armies of the East. At Syracuse she apjiears as the ambitious and oppressive invader of others. In her, as in other republics of old and of modern times, the same energy that had inspired the most heroic efforts in defense of the national indepen- dence, soon learned to employ itself in daring and unscrui^ulous schemes of self-aggrandizement at the expense of neighboring nations. In the interval between the Persian and the Pelponnesian wars she had rapidly grown into a conquering and dominant state, the chief of a thousand tributary cities, and the mistress of the largest and best-manned navy that the Mediterranean had yet DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. 43 beheld. The occupations of her territory bj'- Xerxes and Mar- donius, in the second Persian war, had forced her whole popula- tion to become mariners; and the glorious results of that struggle contirmed them in their zeal for their countrj-'s service at sea. The voluntary suflrage of the Greek cities of the coasts and islands of the ^gffian first placed Athens at the head of the confederation formed for the further prosecution of the war against Persia. But this titular ascendency was soon converted by her into practical and arbitrary dominion. She protected them from piracy and the Persian power, which soon fell into decrepitiide and decay, but she exacted in return imf)licit obedience to herself. She claimed and enforced a prerogative of taxing them at her dis- cretion, and proudly refused to be accountable for her mode of exjicnding their supplies. Remonstrance against her assessments was treated as factious disloyalty, and refusal to i3ay was promjjtly X^unished as revolt. Permitting and encouraging her subject allies to furnish all their contingents in money, instead of part consisting of ships and men, the sovereign republic gained the double object of training her own citizens by constant and well- paid service in her fleets, and of seeing her confederates lose their skill and discipline by inaction, and become more and more pas- sive and powerless under her yoke. Their towns were generally dismantled, while the imijerial city herself was fortified with the greatest care and siimptuousness; the accumulated revenues from her tributaries serving to strengthen and adorn to the utmost her havens, her docks, her arsenals, her theaters and her shrines, and to array her in that plentitude of architectural magnificence, the ruins of which still attest the intellectual grandeur of the age and people which produced a Pericles to plan and a Phidias to execute. All republics that acqi;ire supremacy over other nations rule them selfishly and oppressively. There is no exception to this in either ancient or modern times. Carthage, Pome, Venice, Genoa, Florence, Pisa, Holland, and Eepubliv^an France, all tyrannized over every province and subject state where they gained authority. But none of them openly avowed their system of doing so upon principle with the candor which the Athenian republicans dis- played when any remonstrance was made against the severe ex- actions which they imposed upon their vassal allies. They avowed that their empire was a tyranny, and frankly stated that they solely trusted to force and tci-ror to uphold it. They a^spealed to what they called " the eternal law of nature, that the weak should be coerced by the strong."* Sometimes they stated, and not with- out some truth, that the unjust hatred of Sparta against themselves forced them to be unjust to others in self-defense. To be safe, they must be powerful; and to be powerful,. they must plunder * ^AeI xaOEdTcoroi roi yddao vTcd dwavcovipov KaTtipye6Qat. Tnrc., 1., 77. 4i DECISIVE BATTLES. and coerce their neighbors. They never drcamecl of communicat- ing any franchise, t>r share in office, to their dependents, but iealousy monopolizetl every post of command, and ail political and judicial power; exposing themselves to every risk -with un- tiinchiug gallantry; embarking readily in every ambitions scheme; and never suflering difficnlty or disaster to shake their tenacity of purpose: in the hope of acquiring unbounded empire for their country, and the means of maintaining each of the thirty thoiasand citizens who made up the sovereign republic, in exclusive devo- tion to military occupations, and to those brilliant sciences and arts in which Athens already had reached the meridian of intel- lectual splendor. Her great political dramatist speaks of the Athenian empire as comprehending a thousand states. The language of the stage miist not be taken too literally; but the number of the dependen- cies of Athens, at the time when the Peloponnesian confederacy attacked her, was undoubtedly very great. With a few trifling exceptions, all the islands of the .a2g;pan, and all the Greek cities, which in that age fringed the coasts of Asia Minor, the Hellespont and Thrace, i:)aid tribute to Athens, and implicitly obeyed her orders. The Ji^ga^an Sea was an Attic lake. Westward of Greece, her influence, though strong, was not equally predominant. Sho had colonies and allies among the wealthy and populous Greek settlements in Sicily and South Italy, but she bad no organized system of confederates in those regions; and her galleys brought her no tribute from the Western seas. The extension of her em- pire over Sicily was the favorite project of her ambitioiis orators and generals. While her great statesman, Pericles, lived, his com- manding genius kejot his countrymen under control, and forbade them to risk the fortunes of Athens in distant enterprises, while they had unsubdti xl and powerful enemies at their own doors. He taiaght Athens this maxim; but he also taught her to know and to use her own strength, and when Pericles had departed, the bold spirit which he had fostered overleaped the salutary limits which he had prescribed. When her bitterest enemies, the Corinthians, succeeded, in 431 b. c, in inducing Sparta to attack her, and a confederacy was formed of five-sixths of the continental Greeks, all animated by anxious jealousy and bitter hatred of Athens; when armies far superior in numbers and equipment to those which had marched against the Persians were poured into the Athenian territory, and laid it waste to the city walls, the general opinion was that Athens woi;ld be reduced, in two or three years at the farthest, to submit to the reqiiisitions other invaders. But her strong fortifications, by which she Mas girt and linked to her principal haven, gave her, in those ages, almost all the advantages of an insular position. Pericles.had made her trust to her empire of the seas. Every Athenian in those days was a practiced sea- man, A state, indeed, whose members, of an ago fit for sei-vice, DEFEAT OF THE ATIIENIANb. 45 at no time cxcoeded thirty tlioiisand, and whose territorial extent did not equal lialf Hussex, coiUd only have acquired such a naval dominion as Athens once lield, by d'evoting, and zealously train- ing, all its sons to service in its fleets. In order to man the numer- ous galleys which she sent out, she necessarily employed large numbers of hired mariners and slaves at the oar; but the staple oi" her crews was Athenian, and all posts of command were held by native citizens. It was by reminding them of this, of their long practice in seamanship, and the certain superiority which their discipline gave them over the enemy's marine, that their great minister mainly encouraged them to resist the combined power of Lacedajmon and her allies. He taught them that Athens might thus reap the fruit of her zealous devotion to maritime affairs ever since the invasion of the Medes; " she had not, indeed, per- fected herself; but the reward of her superior training was the rule of the sea— a mighty dominion, for it gave her the rule of much fair land beyond its waves, safe from the idle ravages with which the Lacedsemonians might harass Attica, but never coiild subdue Athens.''* Athens accepted the war wivh which her enemies threatened her rather than descend from her pride of place; and though the aw- ful visitation of the Plague came upon her, and swept away more of her citizens than the Dorian spear laid low, she held her_o\yn gallantly against her enemies. Ji the Peloponnesian armies in ir- resistible strength wasted every spring, her cornlands, her vine- j-ards, and her olive groves with fire and sword, she retaliated on their coasts with her fleets; which, if resisted, were only resisted to display the pre-eminent skill and bravery of her seamen. Some of her subject allies revolted, but the revolts were in general stern- ly and promptly quelled. The genius of one enemy had indeed inflictetl blows on her power in Thrace which she v as unable to remedy ; but he fell in battle in the tenth year of the war, and with the loss of Brasidas the Lacedaemonians seemed to have lost all energy and judgment. Both sides at length grew weary of the war, and in 421 a truce for fifty years was concluded, which, though ill kept, and though many of the confederates of Sparta refused to recognize it, and hostilities still continued in many parts of Greece, protected the Athenian territory from the ravages of ene- mies, and enabled Athens to accumulate large sums out of thepro- ceeds other annual revenues. So also, as a few years passed by, the havoc which the pestilence and the sword had made in her population was repaired; and in 415 B. c. Athens was full of bold and restless spirits, who longed for some field of distant enterprise wherein they might signalize themselves and apgrandiz6 the state, and who looked on the alarm of Spartan hostility as a mere old woman's tale. "When Sparta had wasted their territory she had * Tliuc, Ub. 1.; sec. 144. 46 DECISIVE BATTLEb'. done her ^^•orst; nnd the fact of its always bring in her power to do so seemed a strong reason for seeking to increase the trans-ma- rine dominion of Athens. The West Mas now the quarter toward which the thoughts of every aspiring Athenian -were directed. From the very beginning of the war Athens had kept up an interest in Sicily, and her squad- ron had, from time to time, appeared on its coasts and taken part in the dissensions in which the Sicilian Greeks were universally engaged one against each other. There were plausible grounds for a direct quarrel, and an open attack by the Athenians upon Syracuse. With the capture of Syracuse, all Sicily, it was hoped, would be secured. Carthage and Italy were next to be attacked. With large levies of Iberian mercenaries she then meant to overwhelm her Peloponnesian enemies. The Persian monarchy lay in hope- less imbecility, inviting Greek invasion ; nor did the known world contain the power that seemed capable of checking the growing might of Athens, if Syracuse once could be hers. The national historian of Eome has left us an episode of his great work, a disquisition on the probable effects that would have followed if Alexander the Great had invaded Italy._ Posterity has generally regarded that disquisition as proving Livy's patriotism more strongly than his impartiality or acuteness. Yet, right or wrong, the speculations of the Eoman writer were directed to the considerations of a very remote possibility. To whatever age Alexander's life might have been prolonged, the East would have furnished full occupation for his martial ambition, as well as for those schemes of commercial grandeur and imperial amalgama- tion of nations in which the trxily great qualities of his mind loved to display themselves. With his death the dismemberment of his empire among his generals was certain, even as the dismem- berment of Napoleon's empire among his marshals would cer- tainly have ensued if he had been cut off in the zenith of his power. Eome, also, was far weaker when the Athenians were in Sicily than she was a century afterwards in Alexander's time. There can be little doubt but that Eome would have been blotted out from the independent powers of the West, had she been at- tacked at the end of the filth century e.g. by an Athenian army, largely aided by Spanish mercenaries,- and flushed with triumphs over Sicily and Africa, instead of the collision between her and Greece having been deferred until the latter had sunk into decrepitude, and the Eoman Mais had grown into full vigor. The armament which the Athenians equipped against Syracuse was in every way worthy of the state which formed such projects of universal empire, and it has been truly termed "the noblest that ever yet had been set forth by. a free and civilized common- wealth."* The fleet consisted of one hundred and thirty-four * Arnolds " Elstory of Eome." DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. 47 war-galleys, with a multitude of store-ships. A powerful force of the best heavy-armed infantry that Athens and her allies could furnish was sent on board it, together with a smaller number of slingers and bowmen. The quality of the forces was even more remarkable than the number. The zeal of individuals vied with that of the republic in giving every galley the best possible crew, and every troop the most perfect accouterments. And with pri- vate as well as public wealth eagerly lavished on all that could give splendor as well as efficiency to the expedition, the fated fleet began its voyage for the Sicilian shores in the summer of 415. The Syracusans themselves, at the time of the Peloponnesian war, were a bold and turbulent democracy, tyrannizing over the weaker Greek cities in Sicily, and trying to gam in that island the Bame arbitrary supremacy which Athens maintained aiong the eastern coast of the Mediterranean. In numbers and in spirit they were fully equal to the Athenians, but far inferior to them, in military and naval discipline. When the probability of an Athenian invasion was first publicly discussed at Syracuse, and efl'orts were made by some of the wiser citizens to imi^rove the state of the national defenses, and prepare for the impending danger, the rumors of coming war and the proposal for preparation were received by the mass of the Syracusans with scornful in- credulity. The speech of one of their popular orators is pre- served to us in Thucydides,* and many of its topics might, by a slight alteration of names and details, serve admirably for the party among ourselves at present, which opposes the augmenta- tion of our forces, and derides the idea of our being in any peril from the sudden attack of a French expedition. The Syracusan orator told his countrymen to dismiss with scorn the visionary terrors which a set of designing men among themselves strove to excite, in order to get power and influence thrown into their own hands. He told them that Athens knew her own interest too well to think of wantonly provoking their hostility : "Even if their enemies were to come," said he, "so distant from their resources, and opposed to such a power as ours, their destruction would be easy ami inevitable. Their ships ivill have enough to do to get to our island at all, and to carry such stores of all sorts as will be needed. They cannot therefore carry, besides, an army large enough to cope with such a popidation as ours. They will have no fortified place from which to commerce their operations, but must rest them on no better base than a set of wretched tents, and such means as the necessities of the moment will allow them. But, in truth, 1 do not believe that they loould even be able to effect a disembarkation. Let us, therefore, set at naught these reports as altogether of home manifacture; and be sure if any enemy * Lib. vl., sec. 36, et 8eq.. Arnold's edition. I have almost literally tran- scribed some ol tlie marginal epltomea of ttie original speech. 48 DECISIVE BATTLES. does come, the state rniU know how to defend itself in a manner worthy of the national honor." Such assertions pleased the SyraciiBan assembly, and their counterparts find favor now amonf^ some portion of the English public. But the invaders of Syracuse came; made £Tood their landing in Sicily; and, if they had jjromptly attacked the city itself, instead of wasting nearly a year in desultory operations in other parts of Sicily, the Syracusans must have paid the penalty of their self-sufficient carelessness in submission to the Athenian joke. Bi;t, of the three generals who led the Athenian expedition, two onlj' were men of ability, and one was most weak and incom- petent. Fortunately for Sj'racuse, Alcibiades, the most skilful of the three, was soon deposed from his command by a factious and fanatic vote of his fellow-countrymen, and the other competent one, Lamachiis, fell early in a skirmish; while, more fortunately still for her, the feeble and vacillating Nicias remained unrecalled and unhurt, to assume the undivided leadership of the Athenian army and fleet, and to mar, by alternate over-cat;tion and over- carelessness, every chance of success which the early part of the operations offered. Still, even under him, the Athenians nearly won the town. They defeated the raw levies of the Syracusans, cooped them within the walls, and, as before mentioned, almost effected a continuous fortification from bay to bay over Epipolfe, the completion of which would certainly have been followed by a cai:)itulation. Alcibiades, the most complete example ef genius without prin. cijile that history produces, the Bolingbroke of antiquity, but with high military talents superadded to dii^lomatic and oratorical powers, on being siimmoned home from his command in Sicily to take his trial before the Athenian tribunal, had escaped to Sparta, and had exerted himself there with all the selfish rancor of a rene- gade to renew the war with Athens, and to send instant assistance to Syracuse. When we read his words in the pages of Thucydides (who was himself an exile from Athens at this period, and may probably have been at Sparta, and heard Alcibiades speak), we are at a loss whether most to admire or abhor his subtle and traitoroiis counsels. After an artful exordium, in which he tried to disarm the suspic- ions which he felt must be entertained of him and to point out to the Spartans how completely his interests and theirs were identi- fied, through hatred of the Athenian democracy, he thus pro- ceeded: " Hear me, at any rate, on the matters which require your grave attention, and which T, from the personal knowledge that I have of them, can and ought to bring before you. We Athenians sailed to Sicily with the design of subduing, first the Greek cities there, and next those in Italy. Then we intended to make an attempt DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. 49 on the dominions of Carthago, and on Carthage itself. * If all these projects succeeded (nor did we limit oiirselves to them in these quarters), we intended to increase our fleet with the inex- haustible supplies of ship timber which Italy aftbrds, to j^ut in re- quisition the whole military force of the conquered Greek states, and also to hire large armies of the barbarians, of the Iberiansf and others in these regions, who are allowed to make the best pos- sible soldiers. Then, when we had done all this, we intended to assail Peloi^onnesus with our collected force. Our fleets w'ould blockade j-ou by sea, and desolate your coasts, our armies would be landed at different points and assail your cities. Some of these we expected to storm, J: and others we meant to take by sur- rounding them with fortilied lines. We thought that it would thus be an easy matter thoroughly to war you down ; and then we should become the masters of the whole Greek race. As for ex- pense, we reckoned that each conquered state would give us supplies of money and provisions sufficient to paj' for its own conquest, and furnish the means for the conqiiest of its neighbors. "Such are the designs of the present Athenian expedition to Sicily, and you have heard them from the lips of the man who, of all men living, is most accurately acquainted with them. The other Athenian generals, who remain with the expedition, will endeavor to carry out these jslans. And be sure that without your speedy interference they will all be accomplished. The Sicilian Greeks are deficient in military training; but still, if they couJd at once be brought to combine in an organized resistance to Athens, they might even now be saved. But as for the Syracusans resist- ing Athens by themselves, they have already, with the whole strength of their population, fought a battle and been beaten; they cannot face the Athenians at sea; and it is quite impossible for them to hold out against the force of their invaders. And if this city falls into the hands of the Athenians, all Sicily is theii-s, and presently Italy also; and the danger, which I warned you of from that quarter, will soon fall upon yourselves. You must, therefore, in Sicily, fight for the safety of Peloponnesus. Send some galleys thither instantly. Put men on board who can work their own way over, and who, as soon as they land, can do duty as * Arnold, In his notes on this passage, well reminds the reader that Agathocles, with a Greek force tar Interior to that of th(! Athenians at this period, did, some years afterward, very nearly conquer carthage. t It will be remembered that Spani.sli infaiitiy were the staple of the Carthaginian annics. Doubtless Alcibiades and other IcacUng Athenians had made themselves acquainted witli the Carthaginian system of carrying on war, and meant to adopt it. With the marvelous yjOAvers which Alcibl- ades possessed of Ingratiating himself with the men of every class and every nation, and his high mlhtary genius, he would have been as formidable a chief of an army of condottieri as Hannibal afterward was. X Alclblades here alluded to Sparta itself, which was unfort.iflod. Ills Spartan hearers must have glanced round them at these words with mLxed alarm and indignation. 50 • DECISIVE BATTLES. regular troops. But, above all, let one of yourselves, let a man of Sparta go over to take the chief comniand, to bring into order and effective discipline the forces that are in Syracuse, and urge those who at present hang back to couie forward and aid the Syracusans. The presence of a Spartan genei'al at this crisis will do more to save the city than a whole army."* The renegade then proceeded to urge on them the necessity of encouraging their friends in Sicih', by showing that they themselves were in earnest in hostility to Athens. He exhorted them not only to march their armies into Attica again, but to take up a permanent fortified position in the country; Dut he gave them in detail information of all that the Athenians most dreaded, arrtl how his country might receive the most distressing and enduring injury at their hands. The Sjmrtans resolved to act on his advice, and appointed Gylippus to the Sicilian command. Gylippus was a man who, to the national bravery and military skill of a Spartan, united political sagacity that was worthy of his great fellow-countryman Brasidas; but his merits were debased by mean and sordid vices; and his is one of the cases in which history has been austerely just, and where little or no fame has been accorded to the success- ful but venal soldier. But for the jjurpose for which he was required in Sicily, an abler man could not have been found in Lacedasmon. His counti-y gave him neither men nor money, but she gave him her authority ; and the influence of her name and of his own talents was speedily seen in the zeal with which the Corinthians and other Peloponnesian Greeks began to equip a sqaudron to act under him for the rescue of Sicily. As soon as four galleys were ready, he hurried over with them to the southern coast of Italy, and there, though he received such evil tidings of the state of Syracuse that he abandoned all hojie of saving that city, he determined to remain on the coast, and do what he could in preserving the Italian cities from the Athenians. So nearly, indeed, had Nicias completed his beleaguering lines, and so utterly desperate had the state of Syracuse seemingly be- come, that an assembly of the Sj'racusans was actually convened, and they were discussing the terms on which they should offer to cai^itulate, when a galley was seen dashing into the great harbor, and making her way toward the town with all the speed which her rowers could siipply. From her shunning the part of the harbor, where the Athenian fleet lay, and making straight for the SyraT cusan side, it was clear that she was a friend ; the enemy's cruisers, careless through confidence of success, made no attempt to cut her off; she touched the beach, and a Corinthian captain, sjjringing on shore from her, was eagerly conducted to the assem- bly of the Syracusan people just in time to prevent the fatal vote being put for a surrender. * Tliuc, lit), vl., sec. 90, 91. DEFEAT OF THE ATHEXIANS. 51 ProvicTentially for Syracuse, Gongylus, the commander of the galley, had been prevented by an Athenian sqnadron from follow- ing Gjdipiius to South Italy, and he had been obliged to push direct for Syracuse from Greece. The sight of actual succor, and the promise of more, revived the drooping spirits of the Syracusans. They felt that they were not left desolate to perish, and the tidings that a Spartan was coming to command them confirmed their resolution to continue their resistance. Gylippus was already near the city. He had learned at Locri that the first report which had reached him of the state of Syracuse was exaggerated, and that there was unfinished space in the besiegers' lines through which it was barely possible to in- troduce re-enforcements into the town. Crossing the Straits of Messina, which the culpable negligence of Nicias had left un- guarded, Gylippus landed on the northern coast of Sicily, and there began to collect from the Greek cities an army, of which the regular troops that he brought from Peloponnesus formed the nucleus. Such was the influence of the name of Sparta,* and such were his own abilities and activity, that he succeeded in raising a force of about two thousand fully-armed infantry, with a larger number of irregular troops. Nicias, as if infatuated, made no attempt to counteract his operations, nor, when Gylippus marched his little army toward Syracuse, did the Athenian com- mander endeavor to check him. The Syracusans marched out to meet him ; and while the Athenians were solely intent on com- pleting their fortifications on the southern side toward the harbor, Gylippus turned their position by occupying the high ground in the extreme rear of Epipolae. He then marched through the un- fortified interval of Nicias's lines into the besieged town, and join- ing his tropins with the Sj^racusan forces, after some engagements with varying success, gained the mastery over Nicias, drove the Athenians from Epipola;, and hemmed them into a disadvantage- ous position in the low grounds near the great harbor. The attention of all Greece was now fixed on Syracuse; and every enemy of Athens felt the importance of the opportunity now- offered of checking her ambition, and, perhaps, of striking a deadly blow at her power. Large re-enforcements from Corinth, Thebes, and other cities now reached the Syracusans, while the baffied and dispirited Athenian general earnestly besought his countrymen to recall him, and rej)resented the further prosecu- tion of the siege as hopeless. But Athens had made it a maxim never to let difficulty or dis- aster drive her back from any enter^jrise once undertaken, so long as she possessed the means of making any effort, however desper- * The effect of the presence of a Spartan officer on tUe troops of the othor Greeks seems to have been like the effect of the presence of an EneUsh orucer upon native Indian troops. 52 DECISIVE BATTLES. ate, fcr its accomplishment. With indomitable pertinacity, she now decreed, instead of recalling her first armament from before Syracuse, to send o\it a second, though her enemies near home had now renewed open warfare against her, and by occupying a permanent fortification in her territory had severely distressed her population, and were pressing her with almost all the hardships of an actual siege. She still was mistress of the sea, and she sent forth another fleet of seventy galleys, and another army, which seemed to drain almost the last reserves of her military popula- tion, to try if Syracuse could not yet be won, and the honor of the Athenian arms be preserved from the stigma of a retreat. Hers was, indeed, a spirit that might be broken, but never would bend. At the head of this second expedition she wisely placed her best general, Demosthenes, one of the most distinguished officers that the long Peloijonnesian war had produced, and who, if he had originally held the Sicilian command, would soon have brought Syracuse to submission. The fame of Demosthenes the general had been dimmed by the superior lustre of his great countryman, Demosthenes the orator. When the name of Demosthenes is mentioned, it is the latter alone that is thought of. The soldier has foimd no biographer. Yet out of the long list of great men whom the Athenian republic pro- duced, there are few that deserve to stand higher than this brave, though finally unsuccessfiil leader of her fleets and armies in the first half of the Peloponnesian war. In his first campaign in .ai^to- lia he had shown some of the rashness of youth, and had received a lesson of caution by which he profited throughout the rest of his career, but without losing any of his natural energy in enterprise or in execiition. He had performed the distinguished service of rescuing Naupactus from a jjowerful hostile armament in the sev- enth year of the war ; he had then, at the request of the Acarnanian republics, taken on himself the office of commander-in-chief of all their forces, and at their head he had gained some important advantages over the enemies of Athens in Western Greece. His most celebrated exploits had been the occupation of Pylos on the Messenian coast, the successful defense of that place against the fleet and armies of Lacedsemon, and the subsequent capture of the Spartan forces on the isle of Si^hacteria, which was the severest blow dealt to Sparta throughout the war, and which had mainly caused her to humble herself to make the truce with Athens. De- mosthenes was as honorably unknown in the war of party politics at Athens as he was eminent in the war against the foreign enemy. We read of no intrigues of his on either the aristocratic or demo- cratic side. He was neither in the interest of Nicias norofCleon, His private character was free from any of the stains Avhich pollut- ed that of Alcibiades. On all these points the silence of the comio dramatist is decisive evidence in his favor. He had also the moral coui'age, not always combined with physical, of seeking to do hia DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. 63 dnt>' to his country, irrespective of any odium that life himself might incur, and iinhampered by any petty jealousy of those who •v:eie associated with him in command. There are few men named in ancient history of whom posterity woukl gladly know more, or whom we sympathize with more deeply in the calamities that befell them, than Demosthenes, the son of Alcisthenes, who, in the spring of the year 413 b. c, left Pirceus at the head of the second Athenian expedition against Sicily. His arrival was critically timed; for Gjdippus had encouraged the Sj'racusans to attack the Athenians under Nicias by sea as well fts by land, and by ona able stratagem of Ai'iston, one of the ftdmirals of the Corinthian auxiliary squadron, the Syracusans md their confederates had inflicted on the llLet of Nicias the first lefeat that the Athenian navj had ever sustained from a numerically nferior enemy. Gylipi^us was preparing to follow up his advan- tage by fresh attacks on the Athenians on both elements, when ^e arrival of Demosthenes completely changed the aspect of affairs, and restored the superiority to the invaders. With seventy- Ihree war-galleys in the highest state of eificiency, and brilliantly equipped, with a force of live thousand picked men of the regular infantry of Athens and her allies, and a still larger number of bow-men, javelin-men, and slingers on board. Demosthenes rowed round the great harbor with loud cheers and martial music, as if in defiance of the Syracusans and their confederates. His arrival had indeed changed their newly-born hopes into the deep- est consternation. The resources of Athens seemed inexhaustible, and resistance to her hopeless. They had been told that she was reduced to the last extremities, and that her territory was occu- pied by an enemy; and yet here they saw her sending forth, as if in prodigality of power, a second armament to make foreign conquests, not inferior to that with which Nicias had first landed on the Sicilian shores. "With the intuitive decision of a great commander, Demosthenes at once saw that the possession of Epipote was the key to the pos- session of Syracuse, and he resolved to make a prompt and vigor- ous attempt to recover that position, while his force was unim- paired, and the consternation which its arrival had produced among the besieged remained unabated. The Syracusans and their allies had run out an outwork along Epipohe from the city walls, intersecting the fortified lines of circumvallation which Nicias had commenced, but from which he had been driven by Gylippus. Could Demosthenes succeed in storming this outwork, and in re-establishing the Athenian troops on the high ground, he might fairly hope to be able to resume the circumvallation of the city, and become the conqucrer of Sj^racuse; for when once the besiegers' lines were completed, the number of the troops with which Gylippus had garrisoned the place would only tend to exhaust the stores of provisioris and accelerate its downfall. 5i DECISIVE BATTLES. An easily-repelled attack was first made on tte outwork in the day-time, probably more with the view of blinding the besieged to the nature of the main operations than with^any expectation of succeeding in an open assaiilt, with every disadvantage of the ground to contend against. But, when the darkness had set in, Demosthenes formed his men in columns, each soldier taking with him five days' jDrovisions, and the engineers and workmen of the camp following the troops with their tools, and all portable im- plements of fortification, so as at once to secure any advantage of ground that the army might gain. Thus equipped and prepared, he led his men along by the foot of the southern fiank of Epipolse, in a direction toward the interior of the island, till he came im- mediately below the narrow ridge that forms the extremity of the high ground looking westward. He then wheeled his vanguard to the right, sent them rapidly up the paths that wind along the face of the clilf, and succeeded in completely surprising the Hyra- cusan outposts, and in placing his troops fairly on the extreme summit of the all-important Epii^olae. Thence the Athenians marched eagerly down the slope toward the town, routing some Syracusan detachments that were quartered in their way, and vigorously assailing the unprotected side of the outwork. All at first favored them. The outwork was abandoned by its garrison, and the Athenian engineers began to dismantle it. In vain Gylip- pus brought up fresh troops to check the assault; the Athenians broke and drove them back, and continued to press hotly forward, in the full confidence of victory. But, amid the general consterna- tion of the Syracusans and their confederates, one body of infantry stood firm. This was a brigade of their Boeotian allies, which was posted low down the slope of Epipolse, outside the city walls. Cooly and steadily the Bctotian infantry formed their line, and, undismayed by the current of flight around them, advanced against the advancing Athenians. This was the crisis of the bat. tie. But the Athenian van was disorganized by its own previous successes; and, yielding to the unexpected charge thus made on it by troops in perfect order, and of the most obstinate courage, it was driven back in confusion uison the other divisions of the army, that still continued to press forward. When once the tide was 'thus turned, the Syracusans passed rapidly from the extreme of 'panic to the extreme of vengeful daring, and with all their forces they now fiercely assailed the embarrassed and receding Athen- ians. In vain did the officers of the latter strive to re-form their line. Amid the din and the shouting of the fight, and the confusion inseparable ujjon a night engagement, especially one where many thousand combatants were pent and whirled together in a narrow and uneven area, the necessary maneuvers were impractic- able; and though many companies still fought on desperately, DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. 55 wherever tlie moonlight showed them the semblance of a foe,* they fought without concert or subordination ; and not unfre- quently, amid the deadly chaos, Athenian troops assailed each other. Keeping th^r ranks close, the Syracusaus and their allies pressed on against the disorganized masses of the besiegers, and at length drove them, with heavy slaughter, over the clifls, which an hour or two before they had scaled full of hope, and apparently certain of success. This defeat was decisive of the event of the siege. The Athe- nians afterward struggled only to protect themselves from the ven- geance which the Syracusians sought to wreak in the complete destruction of their invaders. Never, however, was vengeance more complete and terrible. A series of sea-fights followed, in which the Athenian galleys were utterly destroyed or captured. The marines and soldiers who escaped death in disastrous en- gagements, and a vain attempt to force a retreat into the interior of the island, became prisoners of war ; Nicias and Demosthenes were put to death in cold blood, and their men either perished miserably in the syracusan dungeons, or were sold into slavery to the very persons whom, in their pride of power, they had crossed the seas to enslave. All danger from Athens to the independent nations of the West was now forever at an end. She, indeed, centinued to struggle against her combined enemies and revolted allies with unpar- alleled gallantry, and many more years of varying warfare passed away before she surrendered to their arms. But no success in subsequent conquests could ever have restored her to the pre-em- inence in enterprise, resources, and maratime skill which she had acquired before her fatal reverses in Sicily. Nor among the rival Greek republics, whom her own rashness aided to crush her, was there any capable of re-organizing her empire, or resuming her schemes of conquest. The dominion of Western Europe was left for Rome and Carthage to dispute two centuries later, in conflicts still more terrible, and with even higher displays of military dar- ing and genius than Athens had witnessed either in her rise, her meridian, or her fall. 1 : ^ T", — — — * 'Hv jusv yap deXijvtf Xa/iytpd, kcopoov 6i ohTco? aXX^Xov?, g5? iv dsXrjv^ eixoi rr/v nhv os^/r roxj (?&5/tael. BATTLE OF AEBELA 59 Arrian, "wTio wrote liis history of Alexander ■\rlien Hadrian was emperor of the Eoman workl, and when the spirit of declamation and dogmatism was at its full height, but who was himself, unlike the dreaming pedants of the schools, a statesman and a soldier of l^ractical and proved abilitj', well rebuked the malevolent asper- sions which he heard continually thrown upon the memory of the conquerer of the East. He truly says : " Let the man who speaks evil of Alexander not merely bring forward those passages of Alexander's life which were really evil, but let him collect and review all the actions of Alexander, and then let him thoroughly consider first who and what manner of man he himself is, and what has been his own career ; and then let him consider who and what manner of man Alexander was, and to what an eminence of human grandeur /(e arrived. Let him consider that Alexander was a King, and the undisputed lord of two continents, and that his name is renowned throiighout the whole earth. Let the evil- speaker against Alexander bear all this in mind, and then let him reflect on his own insignificance, the pettiness of his own circum- stances and affairs, and the blunders that he makes about these, paltry and trifling as they are. Let him then ask himself whether he is a fit person to censure and revile such a man as Alexander. I believe that there was in his time no nation of men, no city, nay, no single individual with Avhom Alexander's name had not become a familiar word. I therefore hold that such a man, who was like no ordinary mortal, was not born into the world without some special providence."* And one of the most distinguished soldiers and writers of our own nation. Sir Walter Ealeigh, though he failed to estimate justly the full merits of Alexander, has expressed his sense of the grandeur of the part played in the world by "the great Emathian conquerer" in language that well deserves quotation. " So much hath the spirit of some one man excelled as it hath ■undertaken and affected the alteration of the greatest states and commonweals, the erection of monarchies, the conquest of king- doms and empires, guided handfuls of men against multitudes of equal bodily strength, contrived victories beyond all hope and discourse of reason, converted the fearful i^assions of his own followers into magnanimity, and the valor of his enemies into cow- ardice ; such spirits have been stirred up in sundry ages of the world, and in divers parts thereof, to erect and cast down again, to establish and to destroj^ and to bring all things, persons, and states to the same certain ends, which the infinite spirit of the Universal, piercing, moving, and governing all things, hath or- dained. Certainly, the things that this king did were marvelous, and would hardly have been undertaken by anyone else : and though his father had determined to have invaded the Lesser Asia, * Arrian lib. yIL, ad flnem. 60 DECISIVE BATTLES. it is like enough that he -vvoiikl have contented himself -with some part thereof, and not have discovered the river of Indus, as this man did."* A higher authority than either Arrian or Ealcigh may now be referred to hy those who wish to know the real merit of Alexander as a general, and how far the commonplace assertions are true that his successes were the mere results of fortiinate rash- ness and iinreasoning pugnacity. NajDoleon selected Alex- ander as one of the seven greatest generals whose noble deeds history has handed down to us, and from the study of whose compaigns the principles of war are to be learned. The critique of the greatest conquerer of modern times on the military career of the great conquerer of the Old World is no less graphic than true. " Alexander crossed the Dardanelles 334 b. c, with an army of about forty thousand men, of which one eighth was cavalry ; he forced the passage of the Graniciis in opposition to an army under Memmon, the Greek, who commanded for Darius on the coast of Asia, and he spent the whole of the year 333 in establishing his power in Asia Minor. He was seconded by the Greek colonies, ■who dwelt on the borders of the Black Sea and on the Mediterran- ean, and in Sardis, Ephesus, Tarsus, Miletiis, &c. The kings of Persia left their provinces and towns to be governed according to their own particular laws. Their empire was a union of confeder- ate states, and did not form one nation ; this facilitated its conquest. As Alexander only wished for the thi'one of the monarch, he easily affected the change by respecting the customs, manners and laws of the people, who experienced no change in their conditions. " In the year 332 he met with Darius at the head of sixty thou- sand men, who had taken up a position near Tarsus, on the banks of the Issus, in the province of Cilicia. He defeated him, en- tered Syria, took Damascus, which contained all the riches of the great king, and laid siege to Tyre. This superb metropolis of the commerce of the world detained him nine months. He took Gaza, after a siege of two months ; crossed the Desert in seven days ; entered Pelusium and Memphis, and founded Alexan- dria. In less than two years, after two battles and four or five sieges, the coasts of the Black Sea, from Phasis to Byzantiiim, those of the Mediterranean as far as Alexandria, all Asia Minor, Syria and Egypt, had submitted to his arms. "In 331 he repassed the Desert, encamped in Tyre, recrossed Syria, entered Damascus, passed the Euphrates and Tigris, and defeated Darius on the field of Arbela, when he was at the head of a still stronger army than that which he commanded on the Issus, and Babylon opened her gates to him. In 330 he overran Susa and took that city, Persepolis, and Parsargarda, which con- tained the tomb of Cyrus. In 329 he directed his course north- '•• The Hlstorie o£ the World,"' by Sir Walter Kalelgh, Knight, p. 648. BATTLE OF ABBELA. 61 ward, entered Ecbatana, and extended his conqiiests to the coasts of the Caspian, punished Bessiis, the cowardly assassin of Darius, penetrated into Scythia, and subdued the Scythians. In 328 he forced the passage of the Oxus, received sixteen thousand recriiits from Macedonia, and reduced the neighboring people to siibject- tion. In 327 he crossed the Indus, vanquished Porus in a pitched battle, took him prisoner, and treated him as a king. He con- temiDlated passing the Ganges, but his army refused. He sailed down the Indus, in the year 326, with eight hundred vessels ; hfi^ang arrived at the ocean, he sent Nearchus with a fleet to run along the coasts of the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf as far as the mouth of the Euphrates. In 325 he took sixty days in crossing from Gedrosia, entered Kermania, returned to Pasargada, Persepolis, and Susa, and married Statira, the daughter of Darius. In 324 he marched once more to the north, passed Ecbatana, and terminated his career at Babylon.* The enduring importance of Alexander's conquests is to be estimated not l>y the duration of his own life and emjiire, or even by the duration of the kingdoms which his generals after his death formed out of the fragments of that mighty dominion. In every region of the world that he traversed, Alexander planted Greek settlements and founded cities, in the populations of which the Greek element at once asserted its predominance. Among his successors, the Selucidfe and the Ptolemies imitated their great captain in blending schemes of civilization, of commercial inter- course, and of literary and scientific research with all their enter- prises of military aggrandizement and with all their systems of civil administration. Siich was the ascendency of the Greek genius, so wonderfully comprehensive and assimilating was the cultivation which it introduced, that, within thirty years after Alexander crossed the Hellespont, the Greek language was spoken in every country from the shores of the Mgazn to the Indus, and also throughout Egypt— not, indeed, wholly to the extirpation of the native dialects,'but it became the language of every court, of all literature, of every judicial and political function, and formed a mediiim of communication among the many myriads of man- kind inhabiting these large portions of the Old World.f Through- out Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt, the Hellenic character that was thus imparted remained in full vigor down to the time of the Mohammedan conquests. The infinite vahae of tliis to hu- manity in the highest and holiest point of view has often been pointed out, and the workings of the finger of Providence have been gratefully recognized by those who have observed how the early growth and progress of Christianity were aided by that diflusion of the Greek language and civilization throughout Asia * See count Montholon's " Memoirs of Napoleon." t See Ai-nold, 111st. Kome, 111., p. loe. 62 DECISIVE BATTLES. Minor, Syria, and Egypt, wliich bad been caused by tlie Macedo- nian conquest of the East. In Upper Asia, beyond the Euphrates, the direct and material influence of Greek ascendency was more short-lived. Yet, dur- ing the existence of the Hellenic kingdoms in these regions, especially of the Greek kingdom of Bactria, the modern Bokhara, very important effects were produced on the intellectual tenden- cies and tastes of the inhabitants of tliose countries, and of the adjacent ones, by the animating contact of the Grecian spirit. Much of Hindoo science and j^hilosophy, much of the literature of the later Persian kingdom of the Arsacidae, either originated, fi"om, or was largely modified by, Grecian influences. So, also, the learning and science of the Arabians were in a far less de- gree the result of original invention and genius, than the repro- duction, in an altered form, of the Greek philosophy and the Greek lore, acquired by the Saracenic conqnerers, together with their acqiiisition of the provinces which Alexander had subjugated, nearly a thousand years before the armed disciples of Mohammed commenced their career in the East. It is well known that Western Europe in the Middle Ages drew its philosophy, its arts, and its science princii3ally from Arabian teachers. And thus we see how the intellectual influence of ancient Greece j^oured on the Eastern world by Alexander's victories, and then brought back to bear on Mediaeval Europe by the spread of the Saracenic powers, has exerted its action on the elements of modern civilization by this powerful though indirect channel, as well as by the more obvious effects of the remnants of classic civilization which siir- vived in Italy, Gaul, Britain, and Spain, after the irruption of the Germanic nations.* These considerations invest the Macedonian triumphs in the East with never-dying interest, such as the most showy and san- guinary successes of mere " low ambition and the pride of kings," however they may dazzle for a moment, can never retain with posterity. Whether the old Persian empire which Cyrus founded could have survived much longer than it did, even if Darius had been victorious at Arbela, may safely be disputed. That ancient dominion, like the Turkish at the present time, labored under every cause of decay and dissolution. The satraps, like the modern pashaws, continually rebelled against the central power, and Egypt in particular was almos talways in a state of insurrec- tion against the nominal sovereign. There was no longer any effective central control, or any internal principle of unity fused through the huge mass of the empire, and binding it together. Persia was evidently about to fall; bat, had it not been for Alexander's invasion of Asia, she would most probably have fallen beneath some other Oriental power, as Media and Babylon had * See Humbolflt's " Cosmos." BATTLE OF ARBELA. G% /ormerly fallen before herself, and as, in after times, the Parthian supremacy gave way to the revived ascendency of Persia in the East, tinder the scepters of the Arsacidte. A revolution that merely substituted one Eastern power for another would have been utterly barren and unprofitable to mankind. Alexander's victory at Arbela not only overthrew an Oriental d3masty, but established European rulers in its stead. It broke the monotony of the Eastern world by the impression of Western energy and superior civilization, even as England's present mis- sion is to break up the mental and moral stagnation of India and Cathay by pouring upon and through them the impulsive current of Anglo-Saxon commerce and conqiiest. Arbela, the city which has frirnished its name to the decisive battle which gave Asia to Alexander, lies more than twenty miles from the actual scene of conflict. The little village, then named Guagemela, is close to the spot where the armies met, but has ceded the honor of naming the battle to its more euphonius neighbor. Gaugamela is situate in one of the wide plains that lie between the Tigris and the mountains of Kurdistan. A few undulating hillocks diversify the siirface of this sandy track ; but the ground is generally level, and admirably qualified for the evolutions of cavalry and also calculated to give the larger of two armies the full advantage of numerical siiperiority. The Persian king (who, before he came to the throne, had proved his personal valor as a soldier and his skill as a general), had wisely selected this region for the third and decisive encounter between his forces and the invader. The previous defeats of his troops, however severe they had been, were not looked on as irreparable. The Granicus had been fought by his generals rashly and without mutual concert ; and, though Dariiis himself had commanded and been beaten at Issus, that defeat might be attributed to the disadvantageous nature of the ground, where, cooped up between the mountains, the river, and the sea, the niimbers of the Persians confiised and clogged alike the general's skill and the soldier's prowess, and their very strength had been made their weakness. Here, on the broad plains of Kurdistan, there was scope for Asia's largest host to array its lines, to wheel, to skirmish, to condense or expand its squadrons, to maneuver, and to charge at will. Should Alexander and his scanty band dare to plunge into that living sea of war, their destruction seemed inevitable. Darius felt, however, the critical nature to himself as well as to his adversary of the coming encounter. He could not hope to retrieve the consequences of a third overthrow. The great cities of Mesopotamia and Upper Asia, the central provinces of the Persian empire, were certain to be at the mercy of the vii^tor. Dariiis knew also the Asiatic character well enough to be aware how it yields to the pred'ujc, of siiccess and the apparent career of destiny. He felt that the "diadem was now to be either firmly replaced on his own C4 DECISIVE BATTLES. broAY, or to be irrevocably transferred to the head of his Enropean conquerer. He, therefore, during the long interval left him after the battle of Issus, while Alexander was subjugating Syria and Egypt, assidiiously busied himself in selecting the best troops which his vast empire supjilied, and in training his varied forces to act together with some uniformity of discipline and system. The hardy mountaineers of Afghanistan, Bokhara, Khiva, and Thibet were then, as at present, far different to the generality of Asiatics in warlike spirit and endurance. From these districts Darius collected large bodies of admirable infantry ; and the countries of the modern Kurds and Turkomans supplied, as they do now, squadrons of horsemen, hardy, skilful, bold, and trained to a life of constant activity and warfare. It is not uninteresting to notice that the ancestors of our own late enemies, the Sikhs, served as allies of Darius against the Macedonians, They are spoken of in Arrian as Indians who dwelt near Bactria. They were attached to the troops of that satrapy, and their cavalry was one of the most formidable forces in the whole Persian army. Besides these picked troops, contingents also came in from the numerous other provinces that yet obeyed the Great King. Al- together, the horse are said to have been forty thousand, the scythe-bearing chariots two hundred, and the armed elephants fifteen in niimber. The amount of the infantry is uncertain ; but the knowledge which both ancient and modern times supply of the usual character of Oriental armies, and of their popula- tions of camp-followers, may warrant us in believing that many myriads were prepared to fight, or to encumber those who fought for the last Darius. The position of the Persian king near Mesopotamia was chosen with great military skill. It was certain that Alexander, on his return from Egypt, must march northward along the Syrian coast before he attacked the central provinces of the Persian empire. A dii'ect eastward march from the lower part of Palestine across the great Syrian Desert was then, as ever, utterly imprac- ticable. Marching eastward from Syria Alexander would, on crossing the Ei;phrates, arrive at the vast Mesopotamian jDlains. The wealthy capitals of the empire, Babylon, Susa, and Persepolis, would then lie to the south ; and if he marched down through Mesopotamia to attack them, Darius might reasonably hope to follow the Macedonians with his immense force of cavalry, and, without even risking a pitched battle, to harass and finally over- whelm them. We may remember that three centuries after- ward a Roman army under Crassus was thiis actually destroyed by the Oriental archers and horsemen in these very plains,* and that the ancestors of the Parthians who thus vanquished the Ro- man legions served by thousands under King Darius. If, on the * See Mltford. BATTLE OF ARE EI A. 65 contrary, Alexander shonld defer his march against Babylon, and first seek an encounter with the Persian army, the country on each side of the Tigris in this latitude was highly advantageous for such an army as Darius commanded, and he had close in his rear the mountainous districts of Northern Media, \rhere he him- self had in early life been satrap, where he had acquired reputa- tion as a soldier and a general, and where he justly expected to find loyalty to his person, and a safe refuge in case of defeat.* Hi3 great antagonist came on across the Euphrates against him, at the head of an army which Arrian, copying from the journals of Macedonian officers, states to have consisted of forty thousand foot and seven thousand horse. In studying the ' campaigDg of Alexander, we possess the peculiar advantage of deriving our information from two of Alexander's generals of division, who bore an important part in all his enterprises. Aristo- bulus and. Ptolemy ( who afterward became king of Egypt ) kept regular journals of the military events which they witnessed, and these journals were in the possession of Arrian when he drew up his history of Alexander's expedition. Tha high charactar of Ar- rian for integrity makes us confident that he used them fairly, and hia comments on the occasional discrepancies between the two Macedonian narratives prove that he used them sensibly. He frequently quotes the very words of his authorities ; and his history thus acquires a charm such as very few ancient or modern military naiTatives possess. The anecdotes and expressions which he records we fairly believe to be genuine, and not to boj the coinage of a rhetorician, like those in Curtius. In fact, in reading Arrian, wo read General Aristobulus and General Ptol- emy on the campaigns of the Macedonians, and it is like read- ing General Jomini or General Eoy on the campaigns of the French. The estimate which we find in Arrian of the strength of Alex- ander's army seems reasonable enough, when we take into account both the losses which he had sustained and the re-enforcements which ho had received since he left Evarope. Indeed, to Englishmen, who know with what mere handfuls of men our own generals have, at Plassy, at Assaye, at Meeanee, and other Indian battles, routed large hosts of Asiatics, the desparity of numbers that we read of in the victories won by the Macedoni- ans over the Persians presents nothing incredible. The army which Alexander now led was wholly composed of veteran troops * Mltford's remarks on the stratejfy of Darius In his last campaign are very just. Alter having been unduly admired as an historian, AUtiord Is now unduly neglected. Ills partiality, and his deUcIency In scholarship have heen exposed sufficiently to make him no lonsjer a dangerous guide as to (5reek poUtlcs, while the clearness and bilUancy oi' his narrative, and the strong common sense of his remarks (where his party prejudices do not Interiere), must always make his volumes valuable as well as entertaining. D.B.— 3 6 6 DECISIVE BA TTLE8. in the highest possible state of equipment and discipline, enthu- siastically devoted to their leader, and full of confidence in hiu military genius and his victorious destiny. The celebrated Macedonian phalanx formed the main strength of his infantry. This force had been raised and organized by his father Philip, -who, on his accession to the Macedonian throne, needed a numerous and quickly-formed army, and who, by length- ening the spear of the ordinary Greek phalanx, and increasing the depths of the files, brought the tactic of armed masses to the highest extent of which it was capable with such materials as he possessed. * He formed his men sixteen deep, and placed in their grasp the sarissa, as the Macedonian pike was called, which was four-and-twenty feet in length, and when couched for action, reached eighteen feet in front of the soldier ; so that, as a space of about two feet was allowed between the ranks, the spears of the five files behind him projected in front of each front-rank man. The phalangite soldier was ftilly eqiiipped in the defens- ive armor of the regular Greek infantry. And thus the phalanx presented a ponderous and bristling mass, which, as long as its order was kept compact, was sure to bear down all ox)position. The defects of such an organization are obvious, and were proved in after years, when the Macedonians were oi:)posed to the Koman legions. But it is clear that under Alexander the phalanx was not the cumbrous, unwieldy body which it was at Cynoscephala3 and Pydna. His men were veterans ; and he could obtain from them an accuracy of movement and steadiness of evolution such as probably the recruits of his father would only have floundered in attempting, and such as certainly were impracticable in tho phalanx when handled by his successors, especially as under them it ceased to be a standing force, and became only a militia.t Under Alexander the phalanx consisted of an aggregate of eighteen thousand men, who were divided into six brigades of three thousand each. These were again subdivided into regiments and companies ; and the men were carefully trained to wheel, to face about, to take more ground, or to close up, as the emer- gencies of the battle required. Alexander also arrayed troops armed in a different manner in the intervals of the regiments of his phalangites, who could prevent their line from being pierced, and their companies taken in flank, when the nature of the ground prevented a close formation, and who could be with- drawn when a favorable oj^portunity arrived for closing up the phalanx or any of its brigades for a charge, or when it was necessary to prepare to receive cavalry. Besides the phalanx, Alexander had a considerable force of infantry who were called Shield-bearers: they were|not so heavily armed as tho phalangites, or as was the case with the Greek * See Ntebuhr's " nist. of Kome," vol. ill., p. -leo. t see Mebuhr. BATTLE OF ARBELA. 6/ regular infantry in general, but they were equipped for close fight as well as for skirmishing, and were far superior to the ordinary irregular troops of Greek warfare. They were about six thousand strong. Besides these, he had several bodies of Greek regular infantry; and he had archers, slingers, and javelin-men, who fought also with broadsword and target, and who were principally sup- pUed by the highlanders of lllyra and Thracia. The main strength of his cavalry consisted in two chosen regiments of cuirassiers, one Macedonian and one Thessalian, each of which was about fifteen hundred strong. They were provided with long lances and heavy swords, and horse as well as man was fully equipped with defensive armor. Other regiments of regular cavalry were less heavily armed, and there were several bodies of light horsemen, whom Alexander's conquests in Egypt and Syria had enabled him to mount superbly. A little before the end of August, Alexander crossed the Euphrates at Thapsacus, a small corps of Persian cavalry under Mazaeus retiring before him. Alexander was too prudent to march down through the Mesopotamian deserts, and continued to advance eastward -w-ith the intention of passing the Tigris, and then, if he was unable to find Darius and bring him to action, of marching southward on the left side of that river along the skirts of a moun- tainous district where his men would sufler less from heat and thirst, and M^here provisions would be more abundant. Darius, finding that his adversary was not to be enticed into the march through Mesopotamia against his capital, determined to remain on the battle-ground, which he had chosen on the left of the Tigris; where, if his enemy met a defeat or a check, the de- struction of the invaders would be certain with two such rivers as theEuphrates and the Tigris in their rear. The Persian king availed himself to the utmost of every advantage in his power. He caused a large space of ground to be carefully leveled for the oper- ation of his scythe-armed chariots; and he deposited his military stores in the strong town of Arbela, about twenty miles in his rear. The rhetoricians of after ages have loved to describe Darius Codo- manus as a second Xerxes in ostentation and imbecility; but a fair examination of his generalship in this his last campaign shows that he was worthy of bearing the same name as his great predecessor, the royal son of Hystaspes. ( in learning that Darius was with a large army on the left of the Tigris, Alexander hurried forward and crossed that river without opposition. He was at first unable to procure any certain intelli- gence of the precise position of the enemy, and after giving his army a short interval of rest, he marched for four days down the left bank of the river. A moralist may pause iipon the fact that Alexander must in this march have passed within a few miles of the ruins of Kincveh, the {jreat city of the primaeval conquerers of the humou x&^q. Neither the Macedonian king nor any of his fol- 68 DECISIVE BATTLES. lowers knew what those vast mounds had once been. They had already sunk in utter destruction; and it is only within the last few years that the intellectual energy of one of our own countrymen has rescued Nineveh from its long centuries of oblivion.* On the fourth day of Alexander's southward march, his advanced guard reported that a body of the enemy's cavalry was in sight. He instantly formed his army in order for battle, and directing them to advance steadily, he rode forward at the head of some squadrons of cavalry, and charged the Persian horse whom he found before him. This was a mere reconnoiteringparty, and they broke and fled immediately; but the Macedonians made some prisoners, and from them Alexander found that Darius was posted only a few miles off, and learned the strength of the army that ho had with him. On receiving this news Alexander halted, and gave his men rei^ose for four days, so that they should go into action fresh and vigorous. He also fortified his camp and deposited in it all his military stores, and all his sick and disabled soldiers, intending to advance upon the enemy with the serviceable part of his army perfectly unencumbered. After this halt, he moved forward, while it was yet dark, with the intention of reaching the enemy, and attacking them at break of day. About half way between the camps there were some undulations of the ground, which concealed the two armies from each other's view; but, on Alexander arriving at their summit, he saw, by the eaidy light, the Persian host arrayed before him, and he probably also observed traces of some engineering operation having been carried on along part of the ground in front of them. Not knowing that these marks had been caused by the Persians having leveled the ground for the free use of their war-chariots, Alexander suspected that hidden pitfalls had been prepared with a view of disordering the approach of his cavalry. He summoned a council of war forthwith. Some of the of&cers were for attacking instantly, at all hazards; but the more prudent opinion of Parmenio prevailed, and it was determined not to advance further till the battle-ground had been carefully surveyed. Alexander halted his army on the heights, and, taking with him Bome light-armed infantry and some cavalry, he passed part of the day in reconnoitering the enemy, and observing the nature of the ground which he had to fight on. Darius wisely refrained from moving his position to attack the Macedonians on the eminences which they occupied, and the two armies remained until night without molesting each other. On Alexander's return to his head- quarters, he summoned his generals and superior officers together, and telling them that he well knew that then' zeal wanted no exhor- tation, he besought them to do their utmost in encouraging and * See Layard's "Nhieveli," and see 'Vaux'a "Nineveh and Persepolls,'' p. 16. BATTLE OF AEBELA. G9 instmcting those whom each commanded, to do their best in the next day's battle. They were to remind them that they were now not going to fight for a province as they had hitherto fought, but they were about to decide by their swords the dominion of all Asia. Each ofticer ought to impress this upon his subalterns, and ,they should urge it on their men. Their natural courage required no long words to excite its ardor; but they should be reminded of the paramount importance of steadiness in action. The silence in the ranks miist be unbroken as long as silence was proper; but iwhen the time came for the charge, the shout and the cheer must be full of terror for the foe. The of&cers were to be alert in receiv- ing and communicating orders; and every one was to act as if he felt that the whole result of the battle depended on his own single good conduct. Having thus briefly instructed his generals, Alexander ordered that the army should sujj, and take their rest for the night. Darkness had closed over the tents of the Macedonians, when Alexander's vetertm general, Parmenio, came to him, and proposed that they should make a night attack on the Persians. The king is said to have answered that he scorned to filch a victory, and that Alexander must conquer openly and fairly. Adrian justly re- marks that Alexander's resolution was as wise as it was spirited. Besides the confusion and uncertainty which are insef)arable from night engagements, the value of Alexander's victory would have been impaired, if gained under circumstances which might supply the enemy with any excuse for his defeat, and encouraged him to renew the contest. It was necessary for Alexander not only to beat Darius, but to gaii»such a victory as should leave his rival without apology and without hope of recovery. The Persians, in fact, expected, and were prepared to meet a night attack, fcjuch was the apprehension that Darius entertained of it, that he formed his troops at evening in order of battle, and kept them under arms all night. The eiiect of this was, that the morning found them, jaded and dispirited, while it brought their adversaries all fresh and vigorous against them. The written order of battle which Darius himself caused to be drawn \.\]}, fell into the hands of the Macedonians after the engage- ment, and Aristobulus copied it into his journal. We thiis poshcss, . through Adrian, unusually authentic information as to the comiJO- Bition and arrangement of the Persian army. On the extreme left were the Bactrian, Daan, and Arachosian cavalry. Next to these Darius placed the troops from Persia proper, both horse and foot. Then came the Susians, and next tc these the Cadusians. These forces made up the left wing. Darius's own station was in the center. This was composed of the Indians, the Carians, the Mar- dian archers, and the division of Persians who were distinguished by the golden aj^ples that formed the knobs of their spears. Hero also were stationed the body-guard of the Persian nobility. Besides 70 DECISIVE BATTLES. these, there were, in the center, formed in deep order, the Uxian and Babylonian troops, and the soldiers from the Eed Sea. The brigade of Greek mercenaries, whom Darius had in his Bervice, and who alone were considered fit to stand the charge of the Mace- donian phalanx, was drawn up on either side of the royal chariot. The right wing was composed of the Ccelosyrians and Mesopota- mians, the Medes, the Parthians, the Sacians, the Tapurians, Hycanians, Albanians, and Sacesinse. In advance of the line on the left wing were placed the Scythian cavalry, with a thousand of the Bactrian horse, and a hundred scythe-armed chariots. The ele- phants and fifty scythe-armed chariots were ranged in front of the center, and fifty more chariots, Mith the Armenian and Cappado- cian cavalry, were drawn up in advance of the right wing. Thus arrayed, the great host of King Darius passed the night, that to many thousands of them was the last of their existence. The morning of the first of October,* two thousand one hiindred and eighty-two years ago, dawned slowly to their wearied watch- ing, and they could hear the note of the Macedonian trumpet soiinding to arms, and could see King Alexander's forces descend from their tents on the heights, and form in order of battle on the plain. There was deep need of skill, as well as of valor, on Alexander's Bide; and few battle-fields have witnessed more consummate generalship than was displayed by the Macedonian king. There were no natural barriers by which he could protect his fianks; and not only was he certain to be overlai^i^ed on either wing by the vast lines of the Persian army, but there was imminent risk of their circling round him, and charging him in the rear, while he ad- vanced against their center. He formed, therefore, a second or reserve line, which was to wheel round, if required, or to detach troops to either flank, as the enemy's movements might necessitate; and thus, with their whole army ready at any moment to be thrown into one vast hollow square, the Macedonians advanced in two lines against the enemy, Alexander himself leading on the right wing, and the renowned phalanx forming the center, while Par- menio commanded on the left. Such was the general nature of the disposition which Alexander made of his army. But we have in Arrian the details of the posi- tion of each brigade and regiment ; and as we know that these details were taken from the journals of Macedonian generals, it is interesting to examine them, and to read the names and stations of King Alexander's generals and colonels in this, the greatest of Lis battles . The eight regiments of the royal horse-guards formed the right of * See Clinton's " Fasti Hellenicl." The battle was fought eleven days after an eclipse of the moon, which givea the means of fixing the precise ate. BATTLE OF ARBELA, 71 Alexander's line. Their colonels were Cleitus (whose regiment was on the extreme right, the post of peculiar danger), Glaucias, Aris- ton, Sopolis, Heracleides, Demetrias, Meleager, and Hegelochus. Philotas was general of the whole division. Then came the Shield- bearing infantry : Nicanor was their general. Then came the pha- lanx in six brigades. Ccenus's brigade was on the right, and nearest to the Shield-bearers ; next to this stood the brigade of Perdiccas, then Meleager's, then Polyperchon's ; and then the brigade of Amj'nias, but which was now commanded by Simmias, as Amynias had been sent to Macedonia to levy recruits. Then came the infantrj of the left wing, under the command of Craterus. Next to Crate- rus's infantry were placed the cavalry regiments of the allies, with Eriguius for their general. The Thessalian cavalry, commanded by Philippus, were next, and held the extreme left of the whole army. The whole left wing was entrusted to the command of Parmenio, who had round his person the Phalian regiment of cavalry, which was the strongest and best of all the Thessalian horse regiments. The center of the second line was occupied by a body of phalan- gite infantry, formed of companies which were drafted for this purpose from each of the brigades of their phalanx. The officers in command of this corps were ordered to be ready to face about, if the enemy should succeed in gaining the rear of the army. On the right of this reserve of infantry, in the second line, and behind the royal horse-guards, Alexander placed half the Agrian light- armed infantry under Attains, and with them Brison's body of Macedonian archers and Cleander's regiment of foot. He also placed in this part of his army Menida's squadron of cavalry, and Artes's and Ariston's light horse. Menidas was ordered to watch if the enemy's cavalry tried to turn their flank, and, if they did so, to charge them before they wheeled completely round, and take them in flank themselves. A similar force was arranged on the left of the second line for the same purpose. The Thracian in- fantry of Stitalces were placed there, and Coeranus's regiment of the cavalry of the Greek allies, and Agathon's troops of the Odrysian irregular horse. The extreme left of the second line in this quarter was held by Andromachus's cavalrj^. A division of the Thracian infantry was left in guard of the camp. In advance of the right wing and center was scattered a number of light-armed troops, of javelin-men and bow-men, with the intention of warding off the charge of the armed chariots.* Conspicuous by the brilliancy of his armor, and by the chosen band of officers who were round his person, Alexander took his own station, as his custom was, in the right wing, at the head of his * Klet)cr"s arrangement of Ills troops at the battle ol nellopolls, where, with Xi:n thousand Euroiieans. lie had to encounter eighty thousand Asiatics In an open plain, Is worth comparlnfr with Alexander's tactics at Arbelft. See Thlers'e " lilstoiro du consulat," &c., vol, 11., llvre v. n DECISIVE BATTLES. cavalry ; and wlien all the arranf^ements for the battle were com- plete, and his generals were fully instructed how to act in each probable emergency, he began to lead his men toward the eneiay. It was ever his custom to expose his life freely in battle, and to emulate the personal prowess of his great ansestor, Achilles. Per- haps, in the bold enterprise of conquering Persia, it was politio for Alexander to raise his army's daring to the utmost by the ex- ample of his own heroic valor ; and, in his subsequent campaigns, the love of excitement, of "the raptures of the strife," may have made him, like Murat, continue from choice a custom which he commencedfrom duty. Biit he never suffered the ardor of a soldier' to make him loose the coolness of the general, and at Arbela, in particular, he showed that he could act up to his favorite Homeric maxim of being ^AjLKporEpoVy fJadiXsvi t dyaQu'i Jiparspoi r aixMrjTiji. Great reliai^ce had been placed by the Persian king on the effect of the scythe-bearing chariots. It was designed to launch these against the Macedonian phalanx, and to follow them up by a heavy charge of cavalry, which, it was hoped, would find the ranks of the spearmen disordered by the rush of the chariots, and easil}' destroy this most formidable part of Alexander 'sforce. In front, therefore, of the Persian center, where Darius took his station, and which it was supposed the phalanx would attack, the ground had been care- fully leveled and smoothed, so as to allow tlie chariots to charge over it with their full sweep and speed. As the Macedonian army approached the Hersian, Alexander found that the front of his whole line barely equalled the front line of the Persian center, so that he was outllanked on the right by the entire left wing of the enemy, and by their entire right wing on the left. His tactics were to assail some one point of the hostile army, and gain a decisive advantage, while he refused, as far as possible the encounter along the rest of the line. He therefore inclined his order of march to the right, so as to enable his right wing and center to come into collision with the enemy on as favorable terms as possible, al- though the maneuver might in some respect compromise his left. The effect of this oblique mortment was to bring the phalanx and his own wing nearly beyond the limits of the ground which the Persians had prepared for the operations of the chariots; and Darius, fearing^o lose the benefit of this arm against the most im- portant parts of the Macedonian force, ordered the Scythian and Bactrian cavalry, who were drawn up in advance on his extreme left, to charge round upon Alexander's right wing, and check its further lateral progress. Against tiiese assailants Alexander sent from his second line Menidas's cavalry. As these proved too few to make head against the enemy, he ordered Ariston also from the second line with his light horse, and Oleander with his foot, in w-ipport of Menidas. Tho Bactrian? and Scythians now began to BATTLE OF ARBELA. 73 give way, out Daring re-enforced them by the mass of Bactrian cavalry from his mnin line, and an obstinate cavalry fight now took place. The Baetrians and Scythians were numerous, and were better armed than the horseman under Menidas and Aris- ton; and the loss at first Mas heaviest on the Macedonian side. But still tlie European cavalry stood the charge of the Asiatics, and at last, by their superior discipline, and by acting in squad- rons that supported each other,* instead of fighting in a confused mass like the barbarians, the Macedonians broke their adversaries, and drove them off the field. Darius now directed the scythe-armed chariots to be driven against Alexander's horse-guards and the phalanx, and these for- midable vehicles were accordingly sent rattling across the plain, against the Macedonian line. When we remember the alarm which the war chariots of the Britons created among Cassar's legions, we shall not be prone to deride this arm of ancient warfare as al- ways useless. The object of the chariot was to create unsteadiness in the ranks against which they wore driven, and squadrons of cavalry followed close upon them to profit by such disorder. But the Asiatic chariots were rendered inefl'ective at Arbela by the light-armed troops, whom Alexander had specially appointed for th°e service, and who, wounding the horses and drivers with their missile weapons, and running along-side so as to cut the traces or seize the reins, marred the intended charge; and the few chariots that reached the phalanx passed harmlessly through the intervals which the spearmen opened for them, and were easily captured in the rear. A mass of Asiatic cavalry was now, for the second time, collect- ed against Alexander's extreme right, and moved round it, with the ^-iew of gaining the flank of his army. At the critical moment, when their own flanks were exposed by this-i evolution, Aretes dashed on the Persian squadrons with his horsemen from Alexan- der's second line. While Alexander thus met and bafiled all the * Vl/lla xai (^i rd? itpodftoXdi avrcov ISixovro oiMaxEdo- vEi, xal coio xar iXai npo6niTtrovT£i I^gjOovv Ik riji rd^ecoi. — AKKiAN, lib. iil., c. 13. The best explanation of tills may be found In Napoleon's account of the cavalry lights between the French and tlie Mamelukes. " Two Mamelukes were able to make head against three Frenchmen, because they were better armed, better mounted, and better trained ; they had two pair ot pistols, a blunderbuss, a caiabine, a holmet with a visor, and a coat of mail ; they had several horses, and several attendants on loot, one hundred cuirassiers, however, were not afraid of one hundred Mamelukes ; three hundred could beat an equal number, and one thousand could easily put to tlie rout tifteen hundred so great Is the Influence of tactics, order, and evolutions ! Leclerc and Lasalle presented their men to the .Mamelukes In several lines. When the Arabs were on the point of overwhelming the lirst, tlie second came to lis assistance on the right and left; tlio Mamelukes then halted and wheeled, In order to turn the wings of this new line ; this moment was always sel/.- ed upon to charge them, and they wfre uniformly broken."— MoMUOLON'a " History of Captivity of Kapoleon," vol. Iv.. u. Tu. 74 DECISIVE BATTLES. flanking attacks of the enemy -with troops brought np from hia second line, he kept his own horse-guards and the rest of the front line of his wing fresh, and ready to take advantage of the first op- portunity for striking a decisive blow. This soon came. A largo body of horse, who were posted on the Persian left wing nearest to the center, quitted their station, and rode off to heli^ their com- rades in the cavalry fight, that still was going on at the extreme right of Alexander's wing against the detachments from his second line. This made a huge gap in the Persian array, and into this space Alexander instantly charged with his guard and all the cav- alry of his wing; and then pressing toward his left, he soon began to make havoc in the left flank of the Persian center. The Shield-bearing infantry now charged also among the reeling masses of the Asiatics; and five of the brigades of the phalanx, with the irrestible might of their sarisas, bore down the Greek mercen- . aries of Darius, and dug their way through the Persian center. In the early part of the battle Darius had showed skill and energy; and he now, for some time, encouraged his men, by voice and example, to keep firm. But the lances of Alexander's cavalry and the pikes of the phalanx now pressed nearer and nearer to him. His charioteer was struck down by a javelin at his side; and at last Darius's nerve failed him, and, descending from his chariot, he mounted on a fleet horse and galloped from the plain, regard- less of the state of the battle in other parts of the field, where matters were going on much more favorably for his cause, and where his presence might have done much toward gaining a vic- tory. Alexander's operations with his right and center had exposed his left to an immensely preponderating force of the enemy. Par- menio kept out of action as long as possible; but Mazasus, who commanded the Persian right wing, advanced against him, com- pletely outflanked him, and pressed him severely with reiterated charges by suiierior numbers. Seeing the distress of Parmenio's wing, Simmias, who commanded the sixth brigade of the phalanx, which was next to the left wing, did not advance with the other brigades in the great charge upon the Persian center, but kept back to cover Parmenio's troops on their right flank, as otherwise they would have been completely surrounded and cut off from the rest of the Macedonian army. By so doing, Simmias had un- avoidably opened a gap in the Macedonian left center, and a large column of Indian and Persian horse from the Persian right center, had galloped forward through this interval, and right through the troops of the Macedonian second line. Instead of then wheeling around upon Parmenio, or upon the rear of Alexander's conquer- ing wing, the Indian or Persian cavalry rode straight on to the Macedonian camp, overpowered the Thracians who were left in charge of it, and began to plunder. This was stopped by the phalangite troops of the second line, who, after the enemy's horse- BATTLE OF ABBELA. 75 men hacT rnshed by tbcra, faced about, countermarcbetl Tipon the camp, killed many of the Indians and Persians in the act of plun- dering, and forced the rest to ride oflf again. Just at this crisis, Alexander had been recalled from his pursuit of Darius by tidings of the distress of Parmenio, and of his inability to bear up any longer against the hot attacks of Mazaus. Taking his horse-guards •with him, Alexander rode toward the part of the field where his left wing was fighting; but on his way thither he encountered the Persian and Indian cavalry, on their return from his camp. These men now saw that their only chance of safety was to cut their way through, and in one huge column they charged des-per- ately upon the Macedonian regiments. There was here a close hand-to-hand fight, which lasted some time, and sixty of the royal horse-guards fell, and three generals, who fought close to Alexan- der's side were wounded. At length the Macedonian discipline and valor again prevailed, and a large number of the Persian and Indian horsemen were cut down, some few only succeeding in breaking through and riding away. Eelieved of these obstinate enemies, Alexander again formed his regiments of horse-guards, and led them toward Parmenio; but by this time that general also was victorious. Probably the news of Darius's flight had reached Mazasus, and had damped the ardor of the Persian right wing, while the tidings of their comrades' success must have proportion- ally encouraged the Macedonian forces under Parmenio. His Thessalian cavalry particularly distinguished themselves by their gallantry and persevering good conduct; and by the time that Alexander had ridden up to Parmenio, the whole Persian army was in full flight from the field. It was of the deepest importance to Alexander to secure the per- son of Darius, and he now urged on the pursuit. The Kiver Lycus was between the field of battle and the city of Arbela, whither the fugitives directed their course, and the passage of this river was even more destructive to the Persians than the swords knd spears of the Macedonians had been in the engagement. * The narrow bridge was soon choked up by the flying thousands who rushed toward it, and vast numbers of the Persians threw them- selves, or were hurried by others, into the rapid stream, and per- ished in its waters. Darius had crossed it, and had ridden on through Arbela without halting. Alexander reached that city on the next day, and made himself master of all Darius's treasure and stores; but the Persian king, unfortunately for himself, had fled too fast for his conquerer, but had only escaped to perish by the treachery of his Bactrian satrap, Bessus. A few days after the battle Alexander entered Babylon, "the • I purposely omit any statement of the loss In the battle. There Is a pal- pable error ol the transcribers tn the numbers which we And In our present manuscripts of Axrian, and Curtlus is ol uo authoritj . 76 DECISn^ BATTLES, oldest scat of earthly empire" then in existence, as its n,ckno-wl- edged lord and master. There were yet some campaigns of his brief and bright career to be accomplished. Central Asia was yet to witness the march of his phalanx. He was yet to effect that conquest of Afghanistan in which England since has tiiiled. His generalship, as well as his valor, were yet to be signalized on the banks of the Hydaspes and the field of Chillian wallah; and he was yet to precede the Queen of England in annexing the Punjaub to the dominions of a European sovereign. But the crisis of his ca- reer was reached; the great object of his mission was accomplished; and the ancient Persian empire, which once menaced all the na- tions of the earth with subjection, was irreparably crushed when Alexander had won his crowning victory at Arbela. Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Arbela and the Battli; of the Metaueus, B. C. 330. The Lacedsemonians endeavor to create a rising in Greece against the Macedonian power; they are defeated by An- tipater, Alexander's viceroy; and their king, Agis, falls in the battle. 330 to 327. Alexander's campaigns in Upper Asia. 327, 326. Alexander marches through Afghanistan to the Pun- jaub. He defeats Porus. His troops refuse to march toward the Ganges, and he commences the descent of the Indus. On his march he attacks and subdues several Indian tribes — among others, the Malli, in the storming of whose capital (Mooltan) he is severely v/ounded. He directs his admiral, Nearchus, to sail round from the Indus to the Persian Gulf, and leads the army back across Scinde and Beloochistan. 324. Alexander returns to Babylon. " In the tenth year after he had crossed the Hellespont, Alexander, having won his vast do- minion, entered Babylon; and resting from his career in that old- est seat of earthly empire, he steadily surveyed the mass of various nations which o\vned his sovereignty, and resolved in his mind the great work of breathing into this huge but inert body the living spirit of Greek civilization. In the bloom of youthful manhood, at the age of thirty-two, he paused from the fiery speed of his earlier course, and for the first time gave the nations an oppor- tunity of offering their homage before his throne. They came from all extremities of the earth to propitiate his anger, to celebrate his greatness, or to solicit his protection. * * * History may allow ■us to think that Alexander and a Roman embassador did meet at Babylon; that the greatest man of the ancient world saw and spoke with a citizen of that great nation which was destined to succeed him in his appointed work, and to found a wider and still mora 8TN0FSIS OF EVENTS AFTER ABBELA. 77 enduring empire. They met, too, in Babylon, almost beneath the shadow of the Temple of Bel, perhaps 'the earliest monument ever raised by hiiman pride and power in a citj', stricken, as it ■were, by the word of God's heaviest judgment, as the symbol of greatness apart from and opposed to goodness." — (Aenold.) j 323. Alexander dies at Babylon. On his death being known v.^ Greece, the Athenians, and others of the southern states, take up arms to shake off the domination of Macedon. They are at first successful; but the return of some of Alexander's veterans from Asia enables Antipater to prevail over them. 317 to 289. Agathocles is tyrant of Syracuse, and carries on repeated wars with the Carthaginians, in the course of which (311) he invades Africa, and reduces the Carthaginians to great distress. 306. After a long series of wars with each other, and after all the heirs of Alexander had been murdered, his principal surviv- ing generals assume the title of king, each over the jirovinces which he has occupied. The four chief among them were An- tigonus, Ptolemy, Lysimachus, and Soleucus. Antipater was now dead, but his son Ca"ssander succeeded to his power in Macedonia and Greece. 301. Seleucus and Lysimachus defeat Antigonus at Ipsus. An- tigonus is killed in the battle. 280. Seleucus, the last of Alexander's captains, is assassinated. Of all of Alexander's successors, Seleucus had formed the most powerful empire. He had acquired all the provinces between Phrygia and the Indus. He extended his dominion in India be- yond"the limits reached by Alexander. Seleucus had some spark.^ of his great master's genius in promoting civilization and com- merce, as well as in gaining victories. Under his successors, the Seleucidre. this vast empire rapidly diminished: Bactria became independent, and a separate dynasty of Greek kings ruled there in the year 125, when it was overthrown by the Scythian tribe. Par- thia threw off its allegiance to the Seleucidaj in 250 B.C., and the powerful Parthian kingdom, which afterward proved so formidable a foe to Eomo, absorbed nearly all the provinces west of the Euphrates that had obeyed the first Seleucus. Before the battle of Ipsus, Mithradates, a Persian prince of the blood-royal of the Achtemenidae, had escaped to Pontus, and founded there the king- dom of that name. , Besides the kingdom of Seleucus, which, when limited to Syria, Palestine, and parts of Asia Minor, long survived, the most im- portant kingdom formed by a general of Alexander was that of the Ptolemies in Egypt. The throne of Macedonia was long and ob- stinately contended for by Cassander, Polysperchon, Lysimachus, Pyrrhus, Antigonus, and others, but at last was secured by the dynasty of Antigonus Gonatas. The old republics of Southern Greeo* suffered severely during these tumults, and the only Greek 7S BECISIVB BATTLES. ptatcs tliat showed any strength and spirit "were the cities of the Ach;T?an league, the ^tolians, and the islanders of Ivhodes. 2U0. Rome had now thcroiighly subdiiod the Samnites and the F.trascans, and had gainod numerous viotories over the Cisalpine Gauls. Wishing to confirm her dominion in Lower Italy, she be- came entangled in a war with Pyrrhus, foiirth king of Epirus, who was called ovor by the Tarentines to aid them. Pyrrhus was at first victorious;, but in the year 275 was defeated by the Koman legions in a pitched battle. He returned to Greece, remarking of Sicily, O'iay aTtoXsiTtoiisi' Kapx^l^ovioii nal 'pGoaitioii 7raXai6ri}a}'. J\ome becomes mistress of all Italy from the llubicon to the Straits •of Jlessina. 26i. The first Punic war begins. Its primary cause was the desire of both the Eomans and the Carthaginians to possess them- selves of Sicily. The Komans form a tieet, and successfully com- pete with the marine of Carthage.* During the latter half of the war the military genius of Hamilcar Baroa sustains the Cartha- ginian cause in Sicily. At the end of twenty-four j'ears the Car- thaginians sue for peace, though their aggregate loss in ships and men had been less than that sustained by the Eomans since the beginning of the war. Sicily beeomes a Eoman province. 210 to 21S. The Carthaginian mercenaries who had been brought back from Sicily to Ati'ica mutiny against Carthage, and nearly succeed in destroying her. After a sanguinary and desperate struggle, Hamilear Barca crushes them. During the season of weakness to Carthage, Home takes from her the island of Sardinia. Hamilcar Barca forms the project of obtaining compensation by conquests in Spain, and thus enabling Carthage to renew the struggle with Kome. He fcikes Hannibal (then a child) to Spain with him. He, and, after his death, his brother win great part of Southern Spain to the Carthaginian interest. Hannibal obtains the command of the Carthaginian armies in Spain 221 B.C., being then twenty-six years old. He attacks Saguntum, a city on the Ebro, in alliance with Eome, which is the immediate pretext for the second Punic war. During the interval Eome had to sustain a storm from the North. The Cisalpine Gauls, in 22G, formed an alliance with one of the fiercest tribes of their brethren north of the Alps, and began a furious war against the Eomans, which lasted six years. The Eomans gave them several severe defeats, and took from them part of their territories near the Po. It was on this occasion that the Eoman colonies of Cremona and Placentia wore founded, the latter of * There is at this present moment in the Great ExliiWtlon at Uyde Park a model ol a piratical galley of Lalman, part of the mast of wlUch can be let down on the enemy, and form a bridge for boarders. It is worth while to compare tlUs ^viiii the account ot I'olyWus ot the boarcUuff bridges wliich the Koman artmiral. DnilUus. afQxed to the masts ot his galleys, and by means ot whtch He wOa his great victory over Uie carthatrtnlan neet. BATTLE OF THE METAURUS. 79 which did s\ich essential service to Rome in the second Punic war by the resistauoo which it made to the army of Hasdrubal, A muster-roll was made in this war of the efltective military force of the llomans themselves, and of those Italian states that were sub- ject to them. The returns showed a force of seven hundred thou- sand foot and seventy thousand horse. Polybius, who mentions this muster, remarks, 'E^' ovi Avvi/ja? iXazrovi exooy did/iv- picjv, knefiaXev ei'i ri/y 'ItaXicxv. 21b. llaiinibal crosses the Alpa and invades Italy. CH.iPTEE rV. THE BATTLE OF THE METAUETTS, B.C. 207. Quid debeas, O Koma, Neronlbus, Testis Metaurum llumon, et Uasdrubal Devlctus. ct pulcher fugatls Ille dies Lalio teuebris, &c. IIORATins, Iv. Od. 4. Tha consul Nero, who macie tlie unequalled march which deceived Tfan- nlbal and defeated Ilasdruhal, thereby accomphshinp nn aclil(>vpiiienl; almost unrivaled in military annals. The first Intelllgeneo ot his return, to Hannibal, was the sight ot llasdrubals head thrown Into his camp When Hannibal saw this, he exelaUued. with a sigh, that '• Rome would now be the mistress of the world." 'lo this victory ot Nero's It might be owing that his imperial namesake reigned at all. But the Infamy of the one has eclipsed the glory of the other. When the name of Nero is heard, who thinks of the consul I But such are himian things.— Byron. About midway between Eimini and Ancona a little river falls into the Adriatic, after traversing one of those districts of Italy in which n vain attempt has lately been made to revive, after long centuries of servitude and shame, the spirit of Italian nationality and the energy of free institutions. That stream is still called the Metauro, and wakens by its name the recollection of tho reso- lute daring of ancient Eome, and of the slaughter that stained its current two thousand and sixty-three years ago, when tho com- bined consular armies of Livius and Nero encountered and crushed near its banks tho varied hosts which Hannibal's brother was leading from the Tyrenees, the Ilhone, tho Alps, and the Po, to aid the great Carthaginian in his stern struggle to annihi- late the growing might of tho Eoman republic, and make the Punio power supreme overall the natiims of tho world. The llomau historian, who termed that struggle the most mom- 80 . DECISIVE BATTLES. orable of all ■wars that ever -u'cre carried on,* wrote in the spirit of exaggeration , for it is not in ancient, but in modern history, that parallels for its incidents and its heroes are to be found. The similitude between the contest "which Home maintained against Hannibal, and that which England was for many years engaged in against Naiwleon, has not passed unobserved by recent historians. " Twice," says Arnold,! "has there been witnessed the struggle of the highest individual genius against the resources and institu- tions of a great nation, and in both cases the nation has been vic- torious. For seventeen years Hannibal strove against Eome ; for sixteen years Napoleon Bonaparte strove against England : the efforts of the first ended in Zama ; those of the second, in Water- loo." One point, however, of the similitude between the two ■wars has scarcely been adequately dwelt on; that is, the remark- able parallel between the Boman general who finally defeated the great Carthaginian, and the English general Avho gave tho last deadly overthrow to the French emi^eror. Scipio and Wel- lington both held for many years commands of high impor- tance, but distant from the main theaters of warfare. The same country was the scene of the principal military career of each. It was in Spain that Scipio, like Wellington, successively encoun- tered and overthrew nearly all the subordinate generals of tho enemy before being opposed to the chief champion and conquerer himself. Both Scipio and Wellington restored their countrymen's confidence in arms when shaken by a series of reverses, and each of them closed a long and perilous war by a complete and over- whelming defeat of the chosen leader and the chosen veterans of the foe. Nor is the parallel between them limited to their military char- acters and exploits. Scipio, like Wellington, became an important leader of the aristocratic party among his coiintrymen, and was exposed to the unmeasured invectives of the violent section of his political antagonists. When, early in the last reign, an infuriated mob assaulted the Duke of Wellington in the streets of the Eng- lish capital on the anniversary of Waterloo, England was even more disgraced by that outrage than Komo was by the factious ac- cusations which demagogues brought against Scipio, but which ha proudly repelled on the day of trial by reminding tho assembled people that it was the anniversary of the battle of Zama. Happily, a wiser and a better spirit has now for years pervaded all classes of our community, and we shall be spared the ignominy of having worked out to the end the parallel of national ingratitude. Scii^io died a voluntary exile from the malevolent turbulence of Rome. Englishmen of all ranks and politics have now long united in affectionate admiration of our modern Scipio ; and even those who have most widely differed from the duke on legislative or adminis- * Ll'ry, m>. xxl., sec. 1. t Yd. m., d. C2. See also Alison, passim. BATTLE OF TUB METAURUS. 81 trative qiicstions, forget what they deem the political errors of that time-honored head, while they gratefully caU to mind the laurels that have wreathed it. Scipio at Zama trampled in the dust the power of Carthage, but that power had been already irreparably shattered in another field, where neither Scipio nor Hannibal commanded. When the Metaurus witnessed the defeat and death of Husdrubal, it wit- nessed the ruin of the scheme by which alone Carthage could hope to organize decisive success — the scheme of enveloping Rome at once from the north and the south of Italy by two chosen armies, ,led by two sons of Hamilcar.* That battle was the determining crisis of the contest, not merely between Eome and Carthage, bxit between the two great families of the world, which then made Italy the arena of their oft-renewed contest for pre-eminence. The French historian, Michelet, whose "Histoire Eomaine" •would have been invaluable if the general industry and accuracy of the writer had in any degree equalled his originality and bril- liancy, eloquently remarks, "It is not without reason that so universal and vivid a remembrance of the Punic wars has dwelt in the memories of men. They formed no mere struggle to deter- mine the lot of two cities or two empires ; but it was a strife, on the event of which depended the fate of two races of mankind, whether the dominion of the world should belong to the Indo- Germanio or to the Semitic family of nations. Bear in mind that the first of these comprises, beside the Indians and the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, and the Germans. In the other are ranked the Jews and the Arabs, the Phenicians and the Carthagi- nians. On the one side is the genius of heroism, of art, and legisla- tion ; on the other is the spirit of industry, of commerce, of navigation. The two opposite races have every where come into contact, every where into hostility. In the primitive history of Persia and Chaldea, the heroes are perpetually engaged in combat with their industrious and perfidious neighbors. The struggle ia renewed between the Phenicians and the Greeks on every coast of the Mediterranean. The Greek surplants the Phenician in all his factories, all the companies in the East : soon will the Koman come, and do likewise in the West. Alexander did far more against Tyre than Salmanasar or Nebuchodonosor had done. Not content with crushing her, he took care that she never should revive ; for he founded Alexandria as her substitute, and changed forever the track of the commerce of the world. 'J here remained Carthage — the great Carthage, and her mighty empire — mighty in a far different degree than Phenicia's had been. Home annihi- lated it. Then occurred that which has no parallel in history^an entire civilization perished at one blow — vanished, like a falling * See Arnold, toI. lii., 387. 82 DECISIVE BATTLES. star. The " Perii^lus " of Hauno, a few coins, a score of lines in riautus, and, lo, all that remains of the Carthaginian world ! "Many generations must needs pass away before the struggle between the two races could be renewed ; and the Arabs, that formidable rear-guard of the Semitic world, dashed forth from their deserts. The conflict between the two races then became the conflict of two religions. Fortunate was it that those dar- ing Saracenic cavaliers encountered in the East the impregnable ■walls of Constantinople, in the West the chivalrous valor of Charles Martel and the sword of the Cid. The crusades were the natural reprisals for the Arab invasions, and form the last epoch of that great struggle between the two principal families of the human race." It is diflicult, amid the glimmering light supplied by the allu- Bions oi the classical writers, to gain a full idea of the character and institution of Eome's great rival. But we can perceive how inferior Carthage was to her competitor in military resources, and how far less fitted than Rome she was to become the founder of centralized and centralizing dominion, that should endure for centuries, and fuse into imperial unity the narrow nationalities of the ancient races, that dwelt around and near the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, Carthage was originally neither the most ancient nor the most powerful of the numerous colonies which the Phenicians planted on the coast of Northern Africa. But her advantageous posi- tion, the excellence of her constitution (of which, though ill informed as to its details, we know that it commanded the ad- miration of Aristotle), and the commercial and political energy of her citizens, gave her the ascendency over Hippo, Utica, Leptis, and her other sister Phenician cities in those regions ; and she finally reduced them to a condition of dependency, similar to that which the subject allies of Athens occupied relatively to that once imperial city. When Tyre and Sidon, and the other cities of Phenicia itself sank from independent republics into mere vassal states of the great Asiatic monarchies, and obeyed by turns a Babylonian, a Persian, and a Macedonian master, their power and their traffic rapidly declined, and Carthage succeeded to the important maritime and commercial character which they had previously maintained. The Carthaginians did not seek to compete with the Greeks on the northeastern shores of the Med- iterranean, or in the three inland seas which are connected with it ; but they maintained an active intercourse with the Pheni- cians, and through them with Lower and Central Asia ; and they, and they alone, after the decline and fall of Tyre, navigated the waters of the Atlantic. They had the monopoly of all the com- merce of the world that was carried on beyond the Straits of Gibraltar. We have yet extant (in a Greek translation) the narra- tive of the voyage of Hanno, one of their admirals, along the BATTLE OF THE METAUBUS. 83 Trefitem coast of Africa as far as Sierra Leone ; and in the Latin poem of Festns Avienus, frequent references are made to the rec- ords of the voyages of another celebrated Carthaginian admiral, Himilco, -who had explored the northwestern coast of Europe! Our own islands are mentioned by Himilco as the lands of the Hiberni and the Albioni. It is indeed certain that the Cartha- ginians frequented the Cornish coast (as the Phenicians had done before them ) for the purpose of procuring tin ; and there is every reason to believe that they sailed as far as the coasts of the Baltic for amber. "When it is remembered that the mari- ner's compass was unknown in those ages, the boldness and skill of the seamen of Carthage, and the enterprise of her merchants, may be paralleled with any achievements that the history of modern navigation and commerce can pro'cluce. _ In their Atlantic voyages along the African shores, the Cartha- ginians followed the double object of traflSc and colonization. The numerous settlements that were planted by them along the coast from Morocco to Senegal provided for the needy members of the constantly increasing population of a great commercial capital, and also strengthened the influence which Carthage ex- ercised among the tribes of the African coast. Besides her fleets, her caravans gave her a large and lucrative trade with the na- tive Africans ; nor must we limit our belief of the extent of the Carthaginian trade with the tribes of Central and Western Af- rica by the narrowness of the commercial intercourse which civil- ized nations of modern times have been able to create in those regions. Although essentially a mercantile and seafaring people, the Car- thaginians by no means neglected agriculture. On the contrary, the whole of their territory was cultivated like a garden. The fer- tility of the soil repaid the skill and toil bestowed on it; and every invader, from Agathocles to Scipio J3milianus, was struck with ad- miration at the rich pasture lands carefully irrigated, the abundant harvests, the luxuriant vineyards, the plantations of fig and olive trees, the thriving villages, the populous towns, and the splendid villas of the wealthy Carthaginians, through which his march lay, as long as he was on Carthaginian ground. Although the Carthaginians abandoned Mgxan and the Pontua to the Greek, they were by no means disposed to relinquish to thosQ rivals the commerce and the dominion of the coasts of the Mediterranean westward of Italy. For centuries the Carthaginians strove to make themselves masters of the islands that lie between Italy and Spain. They acquired the Balearic Islands, where the principal harbor, Port Mahon, stills bears the name of a Cartha- ginian admiral. They succeeded in reducing the greater part of Sardinia; but Sicily could never be brought into their power. They repeatedly invaded that island, and nearly overran it: but the reslBtance which was opposed to them by the Syracusans 84 DECISIVE BATTLES. ■under Gelon, Dlonysins, Timoleon, and Agathocles, preserved the island from becoming Punic, thougli many of its cities remained Tinder the Carthaginian rule nntil Home finally settled the ques- tion to whom Sicily was to belong by conquering it for herself. "With so many elements of success, with almost unbounded wealth, with commercial and maritime activity, with a fertilo ter- ritory, with a capital city of almost imiDregnable strength, with a constitution that insured for centuries the blessing of social order, with an aristocracy singularly fertile in men of the highest genius, Carthage yet failed signally and calamitously in her contest for power with Homo. One of the immediate causes of this may seem to have been the want of firmness among her citizens, which made them terminate the first Tunic war by begging peace, sooner than endure any longer the hardships and burdens caused by a state of warfare, although their antagonist had suffered far more severely than themselves. Another cause was the spirit of faction among their leading men, wdiich prevented Hannibal in the second war from being properly re-enforced and supijorted. But there were also more general causes why Carthage proved inferior to Eome. These were her position relatively to the mass of the inhabitants of the country which she ruled, and her habit of trusting to mer- cenary armies in her wars. Our clearest information as to the different races of men in and about Carthage is derived from Diodorus Siculus.* That historian enumerates four different races: first, he mentions the Phenicians who dwelt in Carthage; next, he speaks of the Liby-Phenicians: these, he tells us, dwelt in many of the maritime cities, and were connected by intermarriages with the Phenicians, which was the cause of their compound name; thirdly, he mentions the Libyans, the bulk and the most ancient part of the population, hating the Carthaginians intensely on account of the oppressiveness of their domination ; lastly, he names the Numidians, the nomade tribes of the frontier. I It is evident, from this description, that the native Libyans ;Were a subject class, without franchise or political rights; and, |accordingly, we find no instance specified m history of a Libyan lliolding political office or military command. The half-castes, the 'Liby-Phenicians, seem to have been sometimes sent out as colon- ists ;t biit it may be inferred, from what Diodorus says of their residence, that they had not the right of the citizenship of Car- thage; and only a single solitary case occiirs of one of this race being intrusted with authority, and that, too, not emanating from the home government. This is the instance of the ofiicer sent by Hannibal to Sicily after the fall of Syracuse, whom PolybiiasJ calls Myttinus the Libyan, but whom, from the fuller account in Livy, we find to have been a Liby-Phenician;§ and it is expressly men- * Vol. 11., p. 44T, Wessellng's ed t See the " Periplus " of Hanao. t Lib. lx„ 22. 8 Lib. xxv., 40. BATTLE OF THE METAVRUS. 85 tioned \vliat indignation -was felt by tlio Carthaginian commanders in tlie island that this half-caste should control their operations. With respect to the composition of their armies, it is observable that, though thirsting for extended empire, and though some of her leading men became generals of the highest order, the Car- thaginians, as a people, were any thing but personally warlike. As long as they could hire mercenaries to fight for them, they had little appetite for the irksome training and the loss of valuablo time which military service would have entailed on themselves. As Jlichekt remarks, " The life of an industrious merchant, of a Carthaginian, was too precious to be risked, as long as it was possible to substitute advantageously for it that of a barbarian from Spain or Gaul. Carthage knew, and could tell to a drachma, what the life of a man of each nation came to. A Greek was worth more than a Campanian, a Campanian worth more than a Gaul or a Si^aniard. "When once this taritf of blood was correctly made out, Carthage began a war as a mercantile speculation. She tried to make conquests in the hope of getting new mines to work, or to open fresh markets for her exports. In one venture she could afford to spend fifty thousand mercenaries, in another rather more. If the returns were good, there was no regret felt for the capital that had been sunk in the investment; more money got more men, and all went on well."* Armies composed of foreign mercenaries have in all ages been as formidable to their employers as to the enemy against whom they were directed. We know of one occasion (^between the first and Becond Punic wars") when Carthage was brought to the very brink of destruction by revolt of her foreign troops. Other mutinies of the same kind must from time to time have occurred. Probably one of these was the cause of the comparative weakness of Carthage at the time of the Athenian expedition against Syracuse, so dift'er- ent from the energy with which she attacked Gelon half a century earlier, and Dionysius half a century later. And even when we consider her armies with reference only to their efficiency in war- fare, we perceive at once the inferiority of such bands of condoiteri, brought together without any common bond of origin, tactics, or cause, to the legions of Eome, which, at the time of the Punic wars, were raised from the very flower of a hardy agricultural population, trained in the strictest discipline, habituated to victory, and ani-< mated by the most resolute patriotism. And this shows, also.f the transcendency of the genius of Hannibal, which coull form such discordant materials into a compact organized force, and inspire them with the spirit of patient discipline and loyalty to their chief, so that they were true to him in his adverse as well as his prosperous fortunes ; and throughout the checkered series of his campaigns, no panic route ever * " mstolre RomaJne,'' vol 11., p. 40. 86 DECISIVE BATTLES. disgraced a division under his command, no mutiny; or even attempt at mutiny, was ever known in his camp ; and finally, after fifteen years of Italian warfare, his men followed their old leader to Zama, "with no fear and little hope,"* and there, on that disastrous field, stoon firm around him, his Old Guard, till Scipio's Numidian allies came up on their flank, when at last, surrounded and over- powered, the veteran battalions sealed their devotion to their general by their blood ! "But if Hannibal's genius may be lik( ned to the Homeric god, iwho, in his hatred to the Trojans, rises from the deep to rally the [fainting Greeks and to lead them against the enemy, so the calm courage with which Hector met his more than hiiman adversary in his country's cause is no unworthy image of the unyielding magna- nimity displayed by the aristocracy of Home. As Hannibal utterly eclipses Carthage, so, on the contrary, Fabius, Marcellus, Claudius, Nero, even Scipio himself, are nothing when compared to the spirit, and wisdom, and power of Eome. The senate, which voted its thanks to its political enemy, Varro, after his disastrous defeat, 'be- cause he had not despaired of the commonwealth,' and which disdained either to solicit, or to reprove, or to threaten, or in any way to notice the twelve colonies which had refused their accus- tomed supplies of men for the army, is far more to be honored than the conquerer of Zama. This we should the more carefully bear in mind, because our tendency is to admii-e individual greatness far more than national ; and, as no single Eoman will bear com- parison to Hannibal, we are apt to murmur at the event of the contest, and to think that the victory was awarded to the least worthy of the combatants. On the contrary, never was the wisdom of God's providence more manifest than in the issue of the struggle between Eome and Carthage. It was clearly for the good of man- kind that Hannibal should be conquered ; his triumph would have stopped the progress of the world ; for great men can only act per- manently by forming great nations ; and no one man, even though it were Hannibal himself, can in one generation effect such a work. But where the nation has been merely enkindled for a while by a great man's spirit, the light passes away with him who communi- cated it ; and the nation, when he is gone, is like a dead body, to which magic power had for a moment given unnatural life : when the charm has ceased, the body is cold and stiff as before. He who grieves over the battle of Zama should carry on his thoughts to a period thirty years later, when Hannibal must, in the course of nature, have been dead, and consider how the isolated Phenician city of Carthage was fitted to receive and to consolidate the civili- zation of Greece, or by its laws and institutions to bind together barbarians of every race and language into an organized empire, * " We advanced to Waterloo as the Greeks did to ThermopylaB : all of us without fear, and most of us without hope."— /Sp«ecA 0/ General Fop. BATTLE OF THE METAURU3. 87 and prepare them for becoming, when that empire was clisi30lved, the free members of the commonwealth of Christian Enrope."* It was in the spring of 2U7 b. c. that Hasdrubal, after skil- fully disentangling himself and from the Roman forces in Spain, and after a march conducted with great judgment and little loss through the interior of Gaul and the passes of the Alps, appeared in the coiintry that now is the north of Lombardy at the head of troops which he had partly brought out of Spain and partly levied among the Gauls and Ligurians on his way. At this time Hannibal, with his unconquered and seemingly unconquerable army, had been eight years in Italy, executing with strenuous ferocity the vow of hatred to Eome which had been sworn by him while yet a child at the bidding of his father Hamilcar ; who, as he boasted, had trained up his three sons, Hannibal, Hasdrubal, and Mago, like thi'ee lion's whelps, to prey upon the Komans. But Hannibal's latter campaigns had not been signalized by any such great victories as marked the first years of his invasion of Italy. The stern spirit of Eoman resolution, ever highest in disaster and danger, had neither bent nor despaired beneath the merciless blows which " the dire African " dealt her in i"apid succes- sion at Trebia, at Thrasymene, and at Cannte. Her i^opulation was thinned by repeated slaughter in the field, poverty and actual scarcity ground down the siirvivors, through the fearful ravages which Hannibal's cavalry spread through their corn-fields, their pasture-lands, and their vine-yards; many of her allies went over to the invader's side; and new clouds of foreign war threatened her from Macedonia and Gaul. But Home receded not. Rich and poor among her citizens vied with each other in devotion to their country. The wealthy placed their stores, and all placetl their lives at the state's disijosal. Apd though Hannibal could not be driven out of Italy, though every year brought its sufferings and sacri- fices, Rome felt that her constancy had not been exerted in vain. If she was weakened by the continual strife, so was Hannibal also ; and it was clear that the unaided resources of his army were un- equal to the task of her destruction. The single deer-hound could not pull down the quarry which he had so furiously assailed. Rome not only stood fiercely at bay, but had pressed back and gored her antagonist, that still, however, watched her in act to spring. She was weary, and bleeding at every pore ; and there seemed to be little hope of her escape, if the other hound of Hamil- car's race should come up in time to aid his brother in the death- grapple. Hasdrubal had commanded the Carthaginian armies in Spain * Arnold, vol. 111., p. 61. The alxive Is one of the numeroiia bursts of elo- quence that adorn Arnold's last volume, and cause such deep regret that that volume should have been the last, and Its great and good author hava been cut off with his work thus tncomplete. 88 DECISIVE BATTLES. for somo timo ^vith varying bnt ge-erally unfavorable fortune. He had not the full authority over the Funic forces in that coun- try which his brother »nd his father had previously exercised. The faction at Carthage, which was at feud with his ftimily, sud ceeded in fettering and interfering with his power, and other generals were from timo to time sent into Spain, whose errors and misconduct caused the reverses that Hasdrubal met with. This is expressly attested by the Greek historian Polbius, who was the intimate friend of the younger Africanus, and drew his informa- tion respecting the second Punic war from the best possible authorities. Li\'y gives a long narrative of campaigns between the Roman commanders in Spain and Hasdrubal, which is so palpably deformed by fictions and exaggerations as to be hardly deserving of attention.* It is clear that, in the year 208 b. c, at least, Hasdrubal out- maneuvered Publius Scipio, who held the command of the Roman forces in Spain, and whose object was to prevent him from passinf^ the Pyrenees and marching upon Italy. Scipio expected that Has^ drubal would attempt the nearest route along the coast of the Mediterranean, and he therefore carefully fortified and guarded the passes of the eastern Pyrenees. But Hasdrubal passed these mountains near their western extremity; and then, with a con- siderable force of Spanish infantry, with a small number of African troops, with some elephants and much treasure, he marched, not directly toward the coast of the Mediterranean, but in a northeastern line toward the center of Gaul. He halted for the winter in the territoiy of the Arverni, the modern Auvergne, and conciliated or purchased the good will of the Gauls in that region so far that he not only found friendly winter quarters among them, but great numbers of them enlisted under him; and on the approach of spring, marched with him to invade Italy. By thus entering Gaul at the southwest, and avoiding its south- ern maritime districts, Hasdrubal kept the Romans in complete ignorance of his precise operations and movements in that coun- try; all that they knew was that Hasdrubal had bafiied Scipio's attempts to detain him in Spain; that he had crossed the Pyrenees with soldiers, elei^hants, and money, and that he was raising fresh forces among the Gauls. The spring was sure to bring him into Italy, and then would come the real tempest of the war, when from the north and from the south the two Carthaginian armies, each under a son of the Thunderbolt,! were to gather together around the seven hills of Rome. In this emergency the Romans looked among themselves earn- * See the excellent criticisms of Sir Walter Relelgh on tills, in bis " History of tlie World.'' book v., cliap. 111., sec. u. t Uamllcar was surnamed Barca, wmcb means the Tbunderbolt. Sultaa Bajazet had tlie similar surname of Yllderlm. BATTLE OF THE METAURUS. 89 estly and anxiously for leaders fit to meet the perils of the coming campaign. Tiie senate recommended the people to elect, as one of their consuls, Caius Claudius Nero, a patrician of one of the families of the great Claudian house. Nero had served during the j)receding years of the war both against Hannibal in Italy and against Has- drubal in Spain; but it is remarkable that the histories which we possess record no successes as having been achieved by him either before or after his great campaign of the Metaurus. It proves much for the sagacity of the leading men of the senate that they recognized in Nero the energy and spirit which were required at this crisis, and it is equally creditable to the patriotism of the peo- ple that they followed the advice of the senate by electing a general who had no showy exploits to recommend him to their choice. It was a matter of greater difficulty to find a second consul; the laws reqiaired that one consul should be a plebeian; and the ple- beian nobiUty had been fearfully thinned by the events of the war. "While the senators anxiously deliberated among themselves what fit colleague for Nero could be nominated at the coming comitia, and sorrowfully recalled the names of Marcellus, Gracchus, and other plebeian generals who were no more, one taciturn and moody old man sat in sullen apathy among the conscript fathers. This was Marcus Livius, who had been consul in the year before the beginning of this war, and had then gained a victory over the Illyrians. After his consulship he had been impeached before the people on a charge of peculation and unfair division of the spoils among his soldiers; the verdict was unjustly given against him, and the sense of this wrong, and of the indignity thus put upon him, bad rankled unceasingly in the bosom of Livius, so that for eight years after his trial he had lived in seclusion in his country seat, taking no part in any affairs of state. Latterly the census had compelled him to come to Rome and resume his i)lace in the senate, where ho used to sit gloomily apart, giving only a silent vote. At last an unjust accusation against one of his near kinsmen made him break silence, and he harangued the house in words of weight and sense, which drew attention to him, and taught the senators that a strong spirit dwelt beneath that unim posing exterior. Now, while they were debating on what noble of a plebeian house waS' fit to assume the perilous honors of the consulate, some of tho elder of them looked on Marcus Livius, and remembered that in the very last triumph which had been celebrated in the streets of Kome, this grim old man had sat in the car of victoiy, and that ho, had offered the last thanksgiving sacrifice for the success of tho; Roman arms which had bled before Capitoline Jove. There had' been no triumphs since Hannibal came into Italy. Tlio lUyrian campaign of Livius was the last that Lad been so honored; perhaps it might bo destined for him now to renew tho long-interrupted series. The senators resolved that Livius should bcfput in nomi. 90 DECISIVE BATTLES. nation as consul with Nero; the people -were willing to elect him* the only opposition came from himself. He taunted them with their inconsistency in honoring the man whom they had convicteol of a base crime. " If I am innocent," said he, " why did you place such a stain on me ? If I am guilty, why am I more fit for a second consulship than I was for my first one V '' The other senators re- monstrated with him, urging the example of the great Camilhas, who, after an unjust condemnation on a similar charge, both served and saved his country. At last Livius ceased to object; and Caius Claudius Nero and Marcus Livius were chosen consuls of Home. A quarrel had long existed between the two consuls, and the senators strove to effect a reconciliation between them before the campaign. Here again Livius for a long time obstinately resisted the wish of his fellow-senators. He said it was best for the state that he and Nero should continue to hate one another. Each would do his duty better when he knew that he was watched by an enemy in the person of his own colleague. At last the entreaties of the senate prevailed, and Livius consented to forego the feud, and to co-operate with Nero in preparing for the coming struggle. As soon as the winter snows were thawed, Hasdrubal commenced his march from Auvergne to the Alps. He experienced none of the diliiculties which his brother had met with from the mountain tribes. Hannibal's army had been the first body of regular troops that had ever traversed their regions; and, as wild animals assail a traveler, the natives rose against it instinc'ively, in imagined defense of their own habitations which they supposed to be the objects of Carthaginian ambition. But the fame of the war, with which Italy had now been convulsed for twelve years, had pene- trated into the Alpine passes, and the mountaineers now under- stood that a mighty city southward of the Alps was to be attacked by the troops whom they saw marching among them. They now not only opposed no resistance to the passage of Hasdrubal, but many of them, out of the love of enterprise and plunder, or allured by the high pay that he offered, took service with him; and thus he advanced upon Italy with an army that gathered strength at every league. It is said, also, that some of the most important engineering works which Hannibal had constructed were found by Hasdrubal still in existence, and materially favored the speed of his advance. He thus emerged into Italy from the Aljaine val- leys much sooner than had been anticipated. Many warriors of the Ligurian tribes joined him; and, crossing the Kiver Po, he marched down its southern bank to the city of Placentia, which ha wished to secure as a base for his future operations. Placentia resisted him as bravely as it had resisted Hannibal twelve years before, and for some time Hasdrubal waa occupied with a fruitless siege before its walls. BATTLE OF THE METAUBUS. 91 Six armies were levied for the defense of Italy when the long dreaded approach of Hasdrubal was announced. Seventy thousand Komans served in the fifteen legions, of which, with an equal number of Italian allies, those armies and garrisons were com- posed. Upward of thirty thciisand more Eomans were serving in Sicily, Sardinia, and Spain. The whole number of Eoman citizens of an age fit for military duty scarcely exceeded a hundred and thirty thousand. The census taken before the commencement of the war had shown a total of two hundred and seventy thousand, which had been diminished by more than half during twelve years. These numbers are fearfully emphatic of the extremity to which Eome was reduced, .ind of her gigantic efibrts in that great agony of her fate. Not merely men, but money and military stores, were drained to the utmost ; and if the armies of that year should be swept off by a repetition of the slaughters of Thrasymene and Cannas, all felt that Eome would cease to exist. Even if the cam- paign were to be marked by no decisive success on either side, her ruin seemed certain. In South Italy, Hannibal had either de- tached Eome's allies from her, or had impoverished them by the ravages of his army. If Hasdrubal could have done the same in Upper Italy; if Etruria, Umbria, and Northern Latium had either revolted or been laid waste, Eome must have sunk beneath sheer starvation, for the hostile or desolated territory would have yielded no supplies of corn for her population, and money to purchase it from abroad there was none. Instant victory was a matter of life or death. Three of her six armies were ordered to the north, but the first of these was required to overawe the disaffected Etruscans. The second army of the north was pushed forward, under Porcius, the praetor, to meet and keep in check the advanced troops of Has- drubal ; while the third, the grand army of the north, which was to be under the immediate command of the consul Livius, who had the chief command in all North Italy, advanced more slowly in its support. There were similarly three armies in the south, under the orders of the other consul, Claudius Nero. The lot had decided that Livius was to be opposed to Hasdru- bal, and that Nero should face Hannibal. And "when all was ordered as themselves thought best, the two consuls went forth of the city, each his several way. The people of Eome were now quite otherwise affected than they had been when L. ^milius Paulus and C. Terrentius Varro were sent against Hannibal. They did no longer take upon them to direct their generals, or bid them dispatch and win the victory betimes, but rather they stood in fear lest all diligence, wisdom, and valor should prove too little; for since few years had passed wherein some one of their generals had not been slain, and since it was manifest that, if either of these present consuls were defeated, or put to the worst, the two Carthaginians would forthwith join, and make short work with the other, it seemed a greater happiness than could bo expected 92 DECISIVE BATTLES. that each of them should return home victor, and come off with honor from such mighty opposition as he was like to find. With fxtreme difficulty had Home held up her head ever since the bat- tle of Cannfe; though it were so, that Hannibal alone, with little help from Carthage, had continued the war in Italy. But there was now rrrived another son of Amilcar, and one that, in his pres- ent expedition, had seemed a man of more sufficiency than Han- nibal himself, for whereas, in that long and dangerous march thorow barborous nations, over great rivers, and mountains that were thought unpassable, Hannibal had lost a great pait of his army, this Asdrubal, in the same places, had multiplied his num- bers, and gathering the peojile that hefound in the way, descended from the Alps like a rowling snow-ball, far greater than he came over the Pyrenees at his first setting out of Spain. These considerations and the like, of which fear presented many unto them, caused the people of Rome to wait upon their consuls out of the town, like a pensive train of mourners, thinking upon Mar- cellus and Crispinus, upon whom, in the like sort, they had given attendance the last year, but saw neither of them return alive from a less diingerous war. Particularly old Q. Fabius gave his accus- tomed advice to M. Livius, that he should abstain from giving or taking battle until he well understood the enemies condition. But the consul made him a froward answer, and said that he would fight the very first day, for that he thought it long till ho should either recover his honor by victory, or, by seeing the over- throw of his own unjust citizens, satisfied himself with tbe joy of a great though not au honest revenge. But his meaning was bet- ter than his words."* Hannibal at this period occupied with his veteran but much reduced forces the extreme south of Italy. It had not been expected either by friend or foe that Hasdrubal would etfect his passage of the Ali^s so early in the j'ear as actually occurred. And even when Hannibal learned that his brother was in Italy, and had ad- vanced as far as Placentia, he was obliged to pause for further in- telligence before he himself commenced active operations, as he could not tell whether his brother might not be invited into Etru- ria, to aid the party there that was disaffected to Eome, or whether he would march down by the Adriatic Sea. Hannibal led his troops out of their winter quarters in Bruttium and marched northward as far as Canusiuni. Nero had his headquarters near Venusia.with an army which he had increased to forty thousand foot and two thousand five hundred horse, by incorporating under his own command some of the legions which had been intended to act under other generals in the south. There was another Roman army, twenty thousand strong, south of Hannibal, at Tarentum. The' strength of that city secured this Pioman force from any at- * Elr Walter Ealelgh. BATTLE OF THE METAUEUS. 93 tack by Hannibal, and it was a serioiis matter to inarch northward end leave it in bis rear, free to act against all his defiots and allies in the friendly part of Italy, which for the two or three last cam- paigns had served him for a base of his operations. Moreover, Nero's army was so strong that Hannibal could not concentrate troops enough to assume the offensive against it without weaken- ing his garrisons, and relinquishing, at least for a time, his grasp upon the southern j^rovinces. To do this before he was certainly informed of his brother's operations would have been a useless sacrifice, as Kero could retreat before him upon the other Eoman armies near the capital, and Hannibal knew by experience that a mere advance of his army upon the walls of Home would have no effect on the fortunes of the war. In the hope, probably, of in- ducing Nero to follow him, and of gaining an opportunity of out- maneuvering the Eoman consul and attacking hmi on his march, Hannibal moved into Lucania, and then back into Apulia ; he again marched down into Bruttium, and strengthened his ,army by a levy of recruits in that district. Nero followed him, but gave him no chance of assailing him at a disadvantage. Some partial encounters seem to have taken place; but the consul could not prevent Hannibal's junction with his Bruttian levies, nor could Hannibal gain an ojiportunity of surprising and crushing the con- cul.* Hannibal returned to his foi-mer head-quarters at Canusium, and halted there in expectation of further tidings of his brother's movements. Nero also resumed his former position in observa- tion of the Carthaginian army. Meanwhile, Hasdrubal had raised the siege of Placentia, and was advancing toward Ariminum on the Adriatic, and driving before him the Eoman army under Porcius. Nor when the con- sul Livius had come up, and united the pecond and third armies of the north, could he make head against the invaders. The Komans still fell back before Hasdrubal, beyond Ariminum, beyond * The annalists whom Llvy copied spoke of Kercs gaining repeated victories over Hannibal, and Killing and talilng lils men by tens ot thou- Bands. The falsehood of all this is self-evident. If Nero could thus always beat Hannibal, the Romans would not have been in such an agony of dread about Hasdrubal as all writers describe. Indeed, we have the express testimony of Polyblus that the statements which we read m Livy ot Marcellus, Nero and others gaining victories over Hannibal in Italy, must be all fabrications of Honaan vanity. I'olybius states, lib. xv., sec. IG, that Hannibal was never defeated before the battle of Zama ; and In another passage, book Ix., chap. 3, he mentions that after the defeats wlilch Hannibal Inlllcteci on the Komans in the early years of the war, tliey no longer dared face his army In a pitched battle on a fair field, and yet tlicy resolutely maintained the war He lightly explains this by referring to the superiority of Hannibal's cavalry, tlio arm which gained him all his victories. IJy keeping within fortiiied lines, or close to the sides of the mountains when Hannibal approached tlicm, the Komans rendered his cav- alry ineffective; and a glance at the geography of Italy will show how an army can traverse the greater part of tJiat country without venturing far trom the lilgh grounda. y-1 DECISIVE BATTLES. the Metaurns, and as far as tlie little town of Sena, to the sontli- east of that river. Hasdrubal was not iinmindlul of the necessity of acting in concert with his brother. He sent messengers to Hannibal to announce his own line of march, and to jaropose that they should unite their armies in South Umbria, and then wheel round against Rome. Those messengers traversed the greater part of Italy in safetj', but, when close to the object of their mission, were captured by a Roman detachment, and Hasdrubal's letter, detailing his whole plan of the campaign, was laid, not in his brother's hands, but in those of the commander of the Roman armies of the south. Nero saw at once the full importance of the crisis. The two sons of Hamilcar were now within two hundred miles of each other, and if Rome were to be saved, the brothers must never meet alive. Nero instantly ordered seven thousand picked men, a thousand being cavalry, to hold themselves in readi- ness for a secret expedition against one of Hannibal's garrisons, and as soon as night had set in, he hurried forward on his bold enterprise ; but he quickly left the southern road toward Lucania, and, wheeling round, i)ressing northward with the utmost rapidity toward Picenum. He had, during the preceding afternoon, sent messengers to Rome, who were to lay Hasdrubal's letters before the senate. There was a law, forbidding a consul to make war or march his army beyond the limits of the province assigned to him; but in such an emergency, Nero did not wait for the permission of the senate to execute his j^roject, biat informed them that he was already on his march to join Livius against Hasdrubal. He ad- vised them to send the two legions which formed the home garri- son on to Narnia, so as to defend that pass of the Flaminian road against Hasdrubal, in case he should march upon Rome before the consular armies could attack him. They were to supply the place of these two legions at Rome by a levy en masse in the city and by ordering up the reserve legion from Capua. These were nis communications to the senate. He also sent horsemen forward along his line of march, with orders to the local authorities to bring stores of provisions and refreshments of every kind to the road- side, and to have relays of carriages ready for the conveyance of the wearied soldiers. Such were the precautions which he took for accelerating his march ; and when he had advanced some little distance from his camp, he briefly informed his soldiers of the real object of their expedition. He told them that never was there a design more seemingly audacious and more really safe. He said he was leading them to a certain victory, for his colleague had an army large enough to balance the enemy already, so that their swords would decisively turn the scale. The very rumor that a fresh consul and a fresh army had come up, when heard on the battle-field (and he would take care that they should not be heard of before they were seen and felt), would" settle the business. They would have all the credit of the victory, and of having dealt BATTLE OF THE METAURUS. 95 the final decisive blow. He apiDealed to the enthusiastic reception which they already met with on their line of march as a proof and an omen of their good fortune.* And, indeed, their whole path was amid the vows, and jirayers, and praises of their countrymen. The entire population of the districts throiagh which they passed flocked to the roadside to see and bless the deliverers of their country. Food, drink, and refreshments of every kind were eagerly pressed on their acceptance. Each peasant thought a favor was conferred on him if one of Nero's chosen band would accept aught at his hands. The soldiers caught the iwW spirit of their leader. Night and day they marched forward, taking their hurried meals in the ranks, and resting by relays in the wagons which the zeal of the country xseople jjrovided, and which followed in the rear of the column. Meanwhile, at Home, the news of Nero's exjoedition had caused the greatest excitement and alarm. All men felt the full audacity of the enterprise, but hesitated what epithet to apply to it. It was evident that Nero's conduct would be judged of by the event, that most unfair criterion, as the Eoman historian truly terms itf People reasoned on the perilous state in which Nero had left the rest of his army, without a general, and deprived of the core of its strength, in the vicinity of the terrible Hannibal. They specu- lated on how long it would take Hannibal to pursue and overtake Nero himself, and his exj^editionary force. They talked over the former disasters of the war, and the fall of both the consuls of the last year. All the calamities had come on them while they had only one Carthaginian general and army to deal with in Italy. Now they had two Punic wars at a time. They had two Carthagi- nian armies, they had almost two Hannibals in Italy. Hasdnibal was sprung from the same father; trained up in the same hostility to Home; equally practiced in battle against their legions; and, if the comparative speed and success with which he had crossed the Alps was a fair test, he was even a better general than his brother. With fear for their interpreter of every rumor, they exaggerated the strength of their enemy's forces in every quarter, and criticised and distrusted their own. Fortunately for Kome, while she was thus a prey to terror and anxiety, her consul's nerves were stout and strong, and he resolute- ly urged on his march toward Sena, where his colleague Livius and the prajtor Porcius were encamped, Ilasdrubal's army being in position about half a mile to their north. Nero had sent couriers forft-ard to apprise his colleague of his project and of his ap- proach; and by the advice of Livius, Nero so timed his final march as to reach the camp at Sena by night. According to a previous r ■ ■ . ■ . - - — ^- ■ -^ * Llvy, lit), xxvll., c. 45. t " Adparobat (quo nllill Inlqulus est) ci eventu lamam ]iat)lturum»"-v Lrrr, lib. xxvll., c. u. 96 DECISIYis BATTLES. • arrangement, Nero's men were received silently into tlie tents of their comrades, each according to his rank. By these means there ^vas no enlargement of the camj^ that could betray to Hasdrubal the accession of force which the Romans had received. This was con- siderable, as lieros numbers had been increased on the march by the volunteers, who ollered themselves in crowds, and from whom he selected the most promising men, and especially the veterans of former campaigns. A council of war was held on the morning after his arrival, in which some advised that time should be given for Nero's men to refresh themselves after the fatigue of such a march. But Nero vehemently opposed all delay. " The officer," said he, "who is for giving time to my men here to rest themselves, is for giving time to Hannibal to attack my men, whom I have left in the camp in Apulia. He is for giving tmie to Hannibal and Hasdrubal to discover my march, and to maneuver for a junction with each other in Cisalpine Gaul at their leisure. We miist fight instantly, while both the foe here and the foe iu the south are ignor- ant of oiir movements. We must destroy this Hasdrubal, and I must be back in Apulia before Hannibal awakes from his torpor."* Nero's advice prevailed. It was resolved to fight directly, and be- fore the consul and praetor left the tent of Livius, the red ensign, which was the signal to prepare for immediate action, was hoisted, and the Bomanslorthwith drew up in battle array outside the camp. Hasdrubal had been anxious to bring Livius and Porcius to bat- tle, though he had not judged it expedient to attack them in their lines. And now, on hearing that the Ilomans offered battle, liQ also drew up his men and advanced toward them. No spy or de- eerter had informed him of Nero's arrival, nor Lad he receiyed any direct information that he had more than his old enemies to deal with. But as he rode forward to reconnoiter the Roman line, he thought that their numbers seemed to have increased, and that the armor of some of them was unusually dull and stained. He noticed, also, that the horses of some of the cavalry appeared to be rough and out of condition, as if they had just come from a suc- cession of forced marches. So also, though, owing to the i^recau- tionof Livius, the Roman camp showed no change of size, it had not escaped the quick ear of the Carthaginian general that the trumpet which gave the signal to the Roman legions sounded that morning once oftener than usual, as if directing the troops of some additional sui^erior of&cer. Hasdrubal, from his Spanish campaigns, was well acquainted with all the sounds and signals of Roman war, and from all that he heard and saw, he felt convinced that both the Roman consuls were before him. In doubt and dif- ficulty as to what might have taken place between the armies of the south, and probably hoping that Hannibal also was approach- ing, Hasdrubal determined to avoid an encounter with the com- • Uvy, Ub. xxvll., c.46. JSA TTL E OF THE MET A UE US. 97 bincd Koman forces, and to endeavor to retreat upon Insubrian Gaul, where he would be in a friendly coiintr}', and coxild endeavor to re-open his communication with his brother. He therefore led his troops back into their camp ; and as the liomans did not ven- ture on an assault upon his entrenchments, and Hasdrubal did nofe choose to commence hisiretreat in their sight, the day passed away in inaction. Attlie first watch of the night, Hasdrubal led his men silently out of their camp, and moved northward toward the ilutau- rus, in the hope of placing that river between himself and the J.\o- mans bi.fore his retreat was discovered. His guides betrayed him : and having purposely led him away from the part of the river thafc was fordable, they made their escape in the dark, and left Hasdru- bal and his army wantlering in confusion along the steep bank, and seeking in vain for a spot where the stream could be safi.ly crossed. At last thoy halted ; and when day dawned iipon them, Hasdrubal found that great numbea's of his men, in their fatigue- and impatience, had lost all discipline and subordination, and that many of his Gallic auxiliaries had got drunk, and were lying helpless in their quarters. The Boman cavalry were soon seen coming up in pursuit, followed at nogr^at distance by the legions, which marched in readiness for an instant engagement. It was hoi^eless for Hasdrubal to think of continiiing his retreat before them. The prospect of immediate battle might recall the disor- dered part of his troops to a sense of duty, and revive the instinct of discipline. He therefore ordered his men to prepare for action instantly, and made the best arrangement of them that the nature of the ground would permit. Heeren has well described the general appearance of a Carthagi- nian armj\ He says, "It was an assemblage of the most opposite races of the human species from the farthest parts of the globe. Hordes of half-naked Gauls were ranged next to companies of white-clothed Iberians, and savage Ligurians n^xt to the far-trav- eled Nasamoni; s and Lotophagi. Carthaginians and Phenici- Africans formed the center, while inniTmerablo troops of Numidian horsemen, taken from all the tribes of the desert, swarmed about on unsaddled horses and formed the wings ; the van was com- posed of Balearic slingers ; and a line of colossal elephants, with their Ethiopian guides, formed, as it were, a chain of moving for- tresses before the whole army." Such were the usual materials and arrangements of the hosts that fought for Carthage; buttha troops under Hasdrubal were not in all respects thus constituted or thus stationed. He seems to have been esi^ecially deficient in cavalry, and ho had few African troops, though some Carthaginians of high rank were with him. His veteran Spanish infantry, armed with helmets and shields, and short cut-and-thrust swords, v-^ere the best part of his army. These, and his few Africans, he drew up on his right wing, under his own personal command. In the center he placed his Ligurian infantrv, and on tho left wing ho D.B.- 4 98 DECISIVE BATTLES. placed or retained the Gauls, -who \vere armed with long javelins and with huge broad swords and targets. The nigged nature of the ground in front and on the flank of this part of his line made him hope that the Human right wing would be unable to come to close quarters with these unserviceable barbarians before he could make some impression with his Spanish veterans on the Koman left. This was the only chance that he had of victory or safety, and he seems to have done every thing that good generalship could do to secure it. He placed his elephants in advance of his center and right wing. He had caused the driver of each of them to be provided with a sharp iron spike and a mallet, and had given orders that every beast that became unmanageable, and ran back upon his own ranks, should be instantly killed, by driving the spike into the vertebra at the junction of the head and the spine. Hasdrubal's elephants were ten in number. We have no trust- worthy information as to the amount of his infantry, but it is quite clear that he was greatly outnumbered by the combined Eoman forces. The tactic of the Roman legions had not yet acquired that perfection which it received Irom the military genius of Marius, and which we read of in the tirst chapter of Gibbon. "We pos- sess in that great work, an account of the Eoman legions at the end of the commonwealth, and during the early ages of the em- pire, which those alone can adequately admire who have attempted a similar description. We have also, in the sixth and seven- teenth books of Polybiua, an elaborate discussion on the military system of the Romans in his time, which was not far distant from the time of the battle of the Metaurus. But the siabject is beset with difficulties ; and instead of entering into minute but inconclusive details, I would refer to Gibbon's first chapter as serving for a general description of the Roman army in its period of perfection, and remark, that the training and armor which the whole legion received in the time of Augustits was, two centuries earlier, only partially introduced. Two divisions of troops, called Hastati and PrinciiDes, formed the bulk of each Roman legion in the second Puric war. Each of these divisions was twelve hun- dred strong. The Hastatus and the Princeps legionary bore a breast-plate or coat of mail, brazen greaves, and a brazen helmet, with a lofty upright crest of scarlet or black feathers. He had a large oblong shield ; and, as wiapons of oifense, two javelins, one of which was light and slender, hwi the other was a strong and massive weapon, with a shaft about four feet long, and an iron head of equal length. The sword was carried on the right thigh, and was a short cut-and-thrust weapon, like that which * Most probably during the period of his prolonged consulship, fi-om b. c, 104 to B.C. lui, wliile he was training his army against the Cimbri and tha Teutons. BATTLE OF THE METAUEUS. 99 •was used by tlie Spaniards. Thus armed, the Hastati formed the front division of the legion, and the Principes the second. Each division was drawn np about ten deep, a space of three feet being allowed between the fiks as well as the ranks, so as to give each legionary apiple room for the use of the javelins, and of his sword and shield. The men in the second rank did not stand immediately behind those in the first rank, but the filca were alternate, like the position of the men on a draught-board. This was termed the quincunx order. Niebuhr considers that this arrangement enabled the legion to keep u]} a shower of jave- lins on the enemy for some considerable time. He says, "When the first line had hurled its pila, it probably stepped back be- tween those who stood behind it, and two stejis forward restored the front nearly to its first position ; a movement which, on ac- count of the arrangement of the quincunx, could be executed without losing a moment. Thus one line succeecled the other in the front till it was time to draw the swords ; nay, when it was found expedient, the lines which had already been in the front might repeat this change, since the stores of pila were surely not confined to the two which each soldier took with him into battle. " The same change must have taken place in fighting with the sword, which, when the same tactic was adopted on both sides, was anything but a confused melee ; on the contrary, it was a series of single combats." He adds, that a military man of experience had been consulted by him on the subject, and had given it as his opinion " that the change of the lines as described above was by no means impracticable ; but in the absence of the deafening noise of gunpowder, it cannot have had any difficulty with well-trained troops." The third division of the legion was six hundred strong, and acted as a reseiwe. It was always composed of veteran soldiers, who were called the Triarii. Their arms were the same as those of the Principes and Hastati, except that each Ti'iarian carried a spear instead of javelins. The rest of the legion consisted of light-armed troops, who acted as skirmishers. The cavalry of each legion was at this period about three hundred strong. The Italian allies, who were attached to the legion, seemed to have been similarly armed and equipped, but their numerical proj^ortion of cavalry was much larger. Such was the nature of the forces that advanced on the Roman side to the battle of the Metaurus. Nero commanded the right wing, Livius the left, and the pra3tor Porcius had the command of the center. " Eoth Piomans and Carthaginians well understood how much depended upon the fortune of this day, and how little hope of safety there was for the vanquished. Only tlie IJomans herein seemed to have had the better in conceit and opinion that they were to fight with men desirous to have tied from them ; and according to this presumptiou camo Livius the consul, with » 100 DECISIVE BATTLES. proud bravei-y, to give charge on the Spaniards and Africans, by ■^•hom ho -was so sharj^ly entertained that the victory seemed very doubtful. The Africans and Spaniards were stout soldiers, and ■well acquainted uith the manner of the Roman fight. The Ligurians, also, were a hardy nation, and not accustomed to give gi'ound, which they needed the less, or were able nov/ to do, being placed in the midst. Livius, therefore, and Porcius foiind great opposition; and with great slaughter on both sides prevailed little or nothing. Besides other difiiculties, they were exceedingly troubled by the elephants, that brake their first ranks, and put them in such disorder as the Koman ensigns were driven to fall back ; all this while Claudius Nero, laboring in vain against a steep hill, was unable to come to blows with the Gauls that stood opposite him, but out of danger. This made Hasdrubal the more confident, who, seeing his own left wing safe, did the more boldly and fiercely make impression on the other side upon the left wing of the Eomans."* But at last Nero, who found that Hasdrubal refused his left wing, and who could not overcome the difficulties of the ground in tlie quarter assigned to him, decided the battle by another stroke of that military genius which had inspired his march. Wheeling a brigade of his best men round the rear of the rest of the Koman army, Nero fiercely charged the flank of the Spaniards and Africans. The charge was as successful as it was sudden. Boiled back in disorder upon each other, and overwhelmed by numbers, the Spaniards and Ligurians died, fighting gallantly to the last. The Gauls, who had taken little or no part in the strife of the day, were then surrounded, and butchered almost without resistance. Hasdrubal, after having, by the confession of his en- emies, done all that a general could do, when he saw that the vic- tory was irreparably lost, scorning to survive the gallant host which he had led, and to gratify, as a captive, Roman cruelty and pride, spurred his horse into the mitlst of a Roman cohort, and, sword in hand, met the death that was worthy of the son of Hamil- car and the brother of Hannibal. Success the most complete had crowned Nero's enterprise. Re- turning as rapidly as he had advanced, he was again facing the inactive enemies in the south before they even knew of his march. But he brought with him a ghastly trophy of what he had done. In the true spirit of that savage brutality which deformed the Roman national character, Nero ordered Hasdnibal's head to be flung into his brother's camp. Ten years had passed since Han- nibal had last gazed on those features. The sons of Hamilcar had then planned their system of M'arfare against Rome, which they had so nearly brought to successful accomplishment. Year after year had Hannibal been struggling in Italy, in the hope of ona * " nistorie o£ the World," toy Sfi- Wulter Baiclgli, p. 946. SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 101 day hailing the arrival of him whom he had left in Spain, and of seeing his brother's eye flash with aifection and pride at the junc- tion of their irresistible hosts. He now saw that eye glazed in death, and in the agony of his heart the great Carthaginian groaned aloud that he recognized his country's destiny. Meanwhile, at the tidings of the great battle, Rome at once rose from the thrill of anxiety and terror to the full confidence of triumph. Hannibal might retain his hold on Southern Italy for a few years longer, but the imperial city and her allies were no longer in danger from his arms; and, after Hannibal's downfall, the great military republic of the ancient world met in her career of conquest no other worthy competitor. Byron has termed Nero s march "unequalled," and, in the magnitude cf its consequences, it is so. Viewed only as a military exploit, it remains unparalleled save by Marlborough's bold march from Flanders to the Danube in the campaign of Blenheim, and perhaps also by the Archduke Charles's lateral march in 1796, by which he overwhelmed the French under Jourdain, and then, driving Moreau through the Black Forest and across theEhine, for awhile freed Germany from her invaders. Synopsis of Events between the Battle op the Metattetts, b. c . 207, AND Aeminixjs's Yictoex oveb the Eoman Legions undeb Vaeius, A. d. 9. B. C. 205 to 201. Scipio is made consul, and carries the war into Africa. He gains several victories there, and the Carthaginians recall Hannibal from Italy to oppose him. Battle of Zama in 201. Hannibal is defeated, and Carthage sues for peace. End of the second Punic war, leaving Kome confirmed in the dominion of Italy, Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, and also mistress of great part of Spain, and virtually predominant in North Africa. 200. Eome makes war upon Philip, king of Macedonia. She pretends to take the Greek cities of the Achrean league and the .Sltolians under her protection as allies. Philip is defeated by the proconsul Flamininus at CynoscephalfB, 198, and begs for peace. The Macedonian influence is now completely destroyed in Greece, and the Roman established in its stead, though Piome pretends to acknowledge the independence of the Greek cities. 194. Kome makes war upon Antiochus, king of Syria. He is completely defeated at the battle of Magnesia, 192, and is glad to accept peace ou conditions which leave him dependent upon Rome. 200-190. "Thus, within the short space of ten years, was laid the foundation of the Roman authority in the East, and the gen- eral slate of afiairs entirely changed. K Rome was not yet tho 102 DECISIVE BATTLES. ruler, she was at least the arbitress of the M'orld from the Atlantic to the Euphrates. The power of the three principal states was so completely hiimbled, that they durst not, without the permission of Home, begin any new war ; the fourth, Egypt, had already, in the year 201, placed herself under the guardianship of Eome ; and the lesser powers followed of themselves, esteeming it an honor to be called the allies of Eome. With this name the nations were lulled into security, and broiight under the Roman yoke ; the new political system of Eome was founded and strengthened, jiartly by exciting and supporting the weaker states against the stronger, however unjust the cause of the former might be; and partly by factions which she found means to raise in every state, even the smallest." — ( heeeen.) 172. War renewed between Macedon and Eome. Decisive de- feat of Perses, the Macedonian king, by Paulus .^milius at Pydna 1G8. Destruction of the Macedonian monarchy. 150. Eome ojipresses the Carthaginians till they are driven to take up arms, and the third Punic war begins. Carthage is taken and destroyed by Scipio J<]milianus, 14G, and the Carthaginian territory is made aEoman province. 146. In the same year in which Carthage falls, Corinth is stormed by the Eoman army under Mummius. The Acha3an league had been goaded into hostilities with Eome by means similar to those employed against Carthage. The greater part of Southern Greece is made a Eoman province under the name of Achaia. 133. Numantium is destroyed by Scipio .Slmilianus. "The war against the Si^aniards, who, of all the nations subdued by the Eomans, defended their liberty with the greatest obstinacy, began in the year 200, six years after the total expulsion of the Carthagi- nians from their country, 206. It was exceedingly obstinate, partly from the natural state of the country, which was thickly popu- lated, and where every place became a fortress ; partly from the courage of the inhabitants ; but above all, owing to the peculiar policy of the Eomans, who were wont to employ their allies to subdue other nations. This war continued, almost without interruption, from the year 200 to 133, and was for the most part carried on at the same time in Hispania Citerior, where the Celtiberi were the most formidable adversaries, and in Hispania Ulterior, where the Lusitani were equally powerful. Hostilities were at the highest pitch in 195, under Cato, who reduced Hispania Citerior to a state of tranquillity in 185-179, when the Celtiberi were attacked in their native territory and 155-150, when the Eomans in both prov- inces were so often beaten, that nothing was more dreaded by the soldiers at home than to be sent there. The extortions and perfidy of Servius Galba placed Viriathus, in the year 146, at the head of his nation, tlie Lusitani : the war, however, soon extended itself to Hisjmnia Citerior, where many nation^-, particularly the Numan- tines, took up arms against Eome, 143. Viriathus, sometimes victo- SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 103 rius and sometimes defeated, was never more formidable than in the moment of defeat, because he knew how to take advantage of his knowledge of the country and of the dispositions of his countrymen. After his miirder, caused by the treachery of Caspio, 110. Lusitania was subdued ; but the Numantine war became still more violent, and the Numantines compelled the consul Mansinus to a disad- vantageous treaty, 137. When Scipio, in the year 133, put an end to this war, Spain was certainly tranqtiil ; the northern parts, how- -ever, were still unsubdued, though the Eomans penetrated as far •as Galatia."— (Hekken.) ' 131. Commencement of the revolutionary century at Eome, i. e., 'from the time of the excitement produced by the attempts made by the Gracchi to reform the common-wji^lth, to the battle of Ac- tium (B.C. 31>, which established Octavianus Cassar as sole master of the Eoman world. Throughout this period Kome was engaged in important foreign wars, most of which procured large accessions to her territory. 118-100. The Jugurthin«» war. Numidia is conquered, and made a Roman conquest. 113-101. The great and temble war of the Cimbri and Teutones against Rome. These nations of northern warriors slaughter sev- eral Roman armies in Gaul, and in 102 attempt to penetrate into Italy. The military genius of Maiiu? here saves his country ; he defe"ats the Teutones near Aix, in Provence ; and in the following year he destroys the army of the Cimbri, who had passed the Alps, near Vercella3. 91-88. The war of the Italian allies against Rome. This was caused by the refusal of Rome to concede to them the rights of Roman citizenship. After a sanguinary struggle, Rome gradually concedes it. 89-85. First war of the Romans against Mithradates the Great king of Pontus, who had overrun Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Greece. Sylla defeats his armies, and forces him to withdraw his forces from Europe. Sylla returns to Rome to carry on the civil war against the son and partisans of Marius. He makes himself dictator. 74-64. The last Mithradatic wars. LucuUus, and after him Pompeius, command against the great king of Pontus, who at last is poisoned by his son, while designing to raise the warlike tribes of the Danube against Rome, and to invade Italy from the north- east. Great Asiatic conquests of the Romans. Besides the ancient province of Pergamus, the maritime counties of Bithynia and nearly all Paphlagonia and Pontus, are formed into a Roman province under the name of Bithynia, while on the southern coast Cilicia and Pamphylia form another under the name of Cilicia ; Phenicia and Syria compose a third under the name of Sj'ria. On the other hand, (Jreat Armenia is left to Tigranes ; Cappadocia to Ariobarzanes ; the Bosphorus to Pharnaces ; Juduja to llyrcauus ; 1 04 DEOTSl VJS BA TTLE8. and some other small states are also given to petty princes, all of ■wliom remain dependent on Eome. 58-50. Ca?sar conqners Gaul. 54. Crassus attacks the Parthians with a Boman army, Tjut ia overthrown and killed at Carrhaj in Mesopotamia. His lieutenant Cassius collects the wrecks of the army, and prevents the Parthians from conquering Sj'ria. 49-45. The civil war between Cresar and the Pompeian party. Egypt, Mauritania, and Pontus are involved in the consequences of this war. ; 44. Ctesar is killed in the Capitol ; the civil wars are soon re- newed. 42. Death of Brutas aniCassius at Philippi. 31. Death of Antonj' and Cleopatra. Egypt becomes a Boman province, and Augustus Caesar is left undisx^uted master of Eome, and all that is Eome'o. CKAPTEB 1. VICTOET OF A3MINTUS OTEB THE ROMAN LEGIONS UNDEB VAJRUS, A.D. 9. Hac clade factum ut Imperium, quod In lltore oceanl non steterat, In rlpa Itliem fluminls staret.— Flokus. To a truly illustrious Frenchman, whose reverses as a minister can never obscure his achievements in the world of letters, we are indebted for the most profound and -most eloquent estimate that we possess of theimpox-tanceof the Germanic element in European civilization, and of the extent to which the human race is indebted to those brave warriors who long were the unconqiiered antago- nists, and finally became the conquerers, of imperial Bome. Twenty-three eventful j'ears have passed away since M. Guizot delivered from the chair of modern history at Paris his course of lectures on the history of Civilization in Europe. During those years the spirit of earnest inquiry into the germs and primary de- velopments of existing institutions has become more and more active and universal, and the merited celebrity of M. Guizot'swork has proportionally increased. Its admirable analysis of the com- plex political and social organizations of which the modern civil- ized world is made up, must have led thousands to trace with keener interest the great crises of times past, by which the char- Bcteristics of the present were determined. The narrative of one v)f these great crises, of the epoch a. d. 9, when Germany took up ■arms for her independence against Boman invasion, has for us VICTORY OF ARMINIUS. 105 this special attraction — that it forms part of our o^m national his- tory. Had Arminius been supine or unsuccessful, our Germanic ancestors would have been enslaved or exterminated in their original seats along the Eyder and the Elbe. This island would never have borne the name of England, and "we, this great Eng- lish nation, whose race and language are now overrunning this ^arth, from one end of it to the other,"* would have been utterly cut off from existence. Arnold may, indeed, go too far in holding that we are wholly unconnected in race with the Romans and Britons who inhabited this country before the coming over of the Saxons; that, " nation- ality speaking, the history of Caesar's invasion has no more to do with us than the natural history of the animals which then inbabited our forests." There seems ample evidence to prove that the Eomanized Celts whom our Teutonic forefathers found here influenced materially the character of our nation. But the main stream of our peoijle was and is Germanic. Our language alone decisively proves this. Arminius is far more truly one of our national heroes than Caractacus; and it was our own primeval fatherland that the brave German rescued when he slaughtered the Ecman legions eighteen centuries ago, in the marshy glens between the Lippe and the Ems.f Dark and disheartening, even to heroic spirits, must have seemed the prospects of Germany when Arminius planned the general rising of his countrymen against Borne. Half the land was occu- pied by Eoman garrisons; and, what was worse, many of the Germans seemed patiently acquiescent in their state of bondage. The braver portion, whose patriotiem could be relied on, was ill armed and undisciplined, while the enemy's troops consisted of veterans in the highest state of equipment and training, familiar- ized with victory, and commanded by officers of proved skill and valor. The resources of Rome seemed boundless ; her tenacity of purpose was believed to be in\'incible. There was no hope of foreign sympathy or aid ; for "the self-governing powers that had filled the Old World had bent one after another before the rising power of Rome, and had vaniijhed. The earth seemed left void of independent nations.}: The German chieftain tne^ well the gigantic power of the op- pressor. Arminius was no rudesavage, fighting out of mere animal instinct, or in ignorance of the might of his adversary-. He was familiar with the Roman language and civilization ; he had served in the Roman armies ; he had been admitted to the Roman citizen- ship, and raised to the rank of the equestrian order. It was jiart of the subtle policy of Rome to confer rank and privileges on the * .^mold's " Lectures on TWodern History." 1 Hee i>04t, rcmarkis on the relationsliip betwe«n tiie Chenislc and the Eng- Iteb. t Kanek. jt06 DECISIVE BATTLES. youth of the leading families in the nations which she wished to enslave. Among otiier young German chieftains, Arminius and his brother, who were the heads of the noblest house in the tribe of the Cherusci, had been selected as lit objects for the exercise of this insidious system. Iloman refinements and dignities succeed- ed in denationalizing the brother who assumed the Koman name of Flavius, and adhered to Eome throughout all her wars against his country. Arminius remained unbought by honors or wealth, uncorriipted by refinement or luxury. He aspired to and obtained from Koman "enmity a higher title than ever could have been given him by Eoman favor. It is in the page of Rome's greatest historian that his name has come down to us with the proud addition of "Liberator haud dubie Gei'manicB."* Often must the young cheiftain, while meditating the exploit which has thus immortalized him, have anxiously revolved in his mind the fate of the many great men who had been crushed in the attempt which he was about to renew— the attempt to stay the chariot-wheels of triumphant Rome. Could he hope to succeed where Hannibal and Mithradates had perished? "Whiit had been the doom of Viriathus? and what warning against vain valor was written on the desolate site where Numantia once had flourished ? Nor was a caution wanting in scenes nearer home and more recent times. The G.iuls had fruitlessly struggled for eight years against Ctesar; and the gallant Vercingetorix, who in the last year of the war had roused all his countrymen to insurrection, who had cut off Roman detachments, and brought Ctesar himself to the extreme of peril at Alesia— he, too, had finally succumbed, had been led captive in Cffisar"8 triumph, and iiad then been butchered in cold blood in a Roman dungeon. It was true that Rome was no longer the great military republic which for so many ages had shattered the kingdoms of the world. Her system of government was changed; and after a century of revolution and civil war, she had placed herself under the despot- ism of a single ruler. But the discipline of her troops was yet un- impaired, and her warlike spirit seemed unabated. The first year of the empire had been signalized by conquests as valuable as any gained by the republic in a corresponding period. It is a great fallacy, though apparently sanctioned by great authorities, to sup- po.^ethat the foreign policy pursued by Augustus was pacific; he certainly recommended such a policy to his successors {incertum metu an per invidiam, Tac, Ann.,i., 11;, but he himself, until Ar- minius broke his spirit, had followed a very different course. Besides his Spanish wars, his generals, in a series of generally aggressive campaigns, had extended the Roman frontier from the Alps to the Danube, and had reduced into subjection the large and important countries that now form the territories of all Austria * Tacitus, "Annals," U., 88. VICTORY OF ARMIKWS. 107 south of that river, and of East Switzerland, Lower Wirtemberg Bavaria, the Yaltelline, and the Tyrol. ^Vhiie the progress of the Boman arms thus pressed the Germans from the south, still more formidable inroads had been made by the imperial legions on the ■west. Roman armies, moving from the province of Gaul, estab- lished a chain of fortresses along the right as well as the left bank of the Ehine, and, in a series of victorious campaigns, advanced their eagles as far as the Elbe, which now seemed added to the list of vassal rivers, to the Nile, the Khine, the Ehone, the Danulie, the Tagus, the Seine, and many more, that acknowledged the supremacy of the Tiber. lioman fleets also, sailing from the harbors of Gaul along the German coasts and up the estuaries, co-operated with the land-forces of the empire, and seemed to display, even more decisively than her armies, her overwhelming superiority over the rude Germanic tribes. Throughout the territory thus in- vaded, the Romans had, with their usual military skill, established fortified posts ; and a powerful army of occupation was ke^jt on foot, ready to move instantly on any spot where any popular out- break might be attempted. Vast, however, and admirably organized as the fabric of Roman power appeared on the frontiers and in the provinces, there was rottenness at the core. In Rome's unceasing hostilities with foreign foes, and still more in her long series of desolating civil wars, the free middle classes of Italy had almost wholly disappeared. Above the position which they had occupied, an oligarchy of wealth had reared itself ; beneath that position, a degraded mass of poverty and misery was fermenting. Slaves, the chance sweep- ings of every conquered country, shoals of Africans, Sardinians, Asiatics, Illyrians, and others, made up the bulk of the population of the Italian peninsula. The foulest profligacy of manners was general in all ranks. In universal weariness of revolution and .civil war, and in consciousness of being too debased for self-gov- ernment, the nation had submitted itself to the absolute authority of Augustiis. Adulation was now the chief function of the senate; and the gifts of genius and accomplishments of art were devoted to the elaboration of eloquently false panegyrics upon the prince and his favorite coiirtiers. With bitter indignation must the Ger- man chieftain have beheld all this, and contrasted with it the rough worth of his own countrymen: their bravery, their fidelity to their word, their manly independence of sj^irit, their love of their national free institutions, and their loathing of every pollu- tion and meanness. Above all, he must have thought of the domestic virtues that hallowed a German home; of the respect there shown to the female character, and of the pure affection by which that respect was repaid. His soul must have burned within him at the contemijlation of such a race yielding to these debased Italians. V Still, to persuade the Germans to combine, in spite of their 108 DECISIVE BATTLES. frequent feuds among themselves, in one sudden outbreak against Eome: to keep the gchcnie concealed liom tie liomans until the hour lor action arri\ed; and then, without possesying a single walled to-^\n. without military stores, without training, to teach his insurgent countrymen to defeat veteran armies and storm for- tifications, seemed so jierilous an enterprise, that probably Armin- ius would have receded from it had not a stronger feeling even than patriotism urged him on. Among the Germans of high rank who had most readily submitted to the invaders, and become zeal- ous partisans of Eoman authority, was a chieftain named Segestes. His daughter, Thusuelda, was pre-eminent among the nobla maidens of Germany. Arminius had sought her hand in marriage; but Segfcstes, who probably discerned the young chiefs disaffection to Home, forbade his suit, and strove to preclude all communica- tion between him and his daughter. Thusnelda, however, sym- pathized far more with the heroic spirit of her lover than with the time-serving policy of her father. An elopement baffled the pre- cautions of Segestes, who, disappointed in his hope of preventing the marriage, accused Arminius before the Eoman goverhor of hav- ing carried off his daughter, and of planning treason against Eome. Thus assailed, and dreading to see his bride torn from him by the officials of the foreign oppressor, Arminius delayed no longer, but bent ill his energies to organize and execute a general insurrec- tion of the great mass of'hiis countrymen, who hitherto had sub- mitted in sullen hatred to the Eoman dominion. A change of governors had recently taken place, which, while it materially favored the ultimate success of the insurgents, served, by the immediate aggravation of the Eoman oppressions which it produced, to make the native population more universally eager to take arms. Tiberius, who was afterward emperor, had recently been recalled from the command in Germany, and sent into Pan- Lionia to put down a dangerous revolt which had broken out fcgainst the Eomans in that province. The German patriots were thus delivered from the stern supervision of one of the most suspi- cious of mankind, and were also relieved from having to contend against the high military talents of a veteran commander, who thoroughly understood their national character, and also the na- ture of the country, which he himself had principally subdued. In the room of Tiberius, Augustus sent into Germany Quintiliua Varus, who had lately returned from the proconsulate of Syria. Varus was a true representative of the higher classes of the Eo- mans, among whom a general taste for literature, a keep suscepti- bility to all intellectual gratifications, a minute acquaintance with the principles and practice of their own national jurisprudence, a careful training in the schools of the rhetoricians and a fondness for either partaking in or watching the intellectual strife of foren- eic oratory, had become generally difiused, without, however, iiaving humanized the old Eoman spirit of cruel indifference for VICTORY OF AEMIKIUS. 109 human feelings and hnmnn snffcringp, and -^'itliout acting as the least checks on iirincipied avarice and ambition, or on habitual and gross protiig-acy. Accustomed to govern tlie depraved and debased natives of Syria, a coiintry where coiarago in man and virtue in woman had for centuries been unknown, Varus thought that he might gratify his licentious and rapacious passions with equal impunity among the high-minded sons and pure-spirited daughters of Germany.* "When the general of an army sets the example of outrages of this description, he is soon faithfully imi- tated by his officers, and surpassed by his still more brutal sol- diery. The Romans now habitually indiilged m those violations of the sanctity of the domestic shrine, and those insults iipon honor and modesty, by which far less gallant spirits than those of our Teutonic ancestors have often been maddened into insurrec- tion. Arminius found among the other Geripan chiefs many who symiDatbized with him in his indignation at their country's abase- ment, and many whom private wrongs had stung yet more deeply. There was little difficulty in collecting bold leaders for an attack on the opi^ressors, and little fear of tb.e population not rising readily at those leaders' call. But to declare open war against Eome, and to encounter Vanis's army in a pitched battle, would have been merely rushing upon certain destruction. Varus had three legions under him, a force which, after allowing for detach- ments, cannot be estimated at less than fourteen thousand lloman infantrj\ He had also eight or nine hundred Eoman cavalry, and at least an equal number of horse and foot sent from the allied states, or raised among other provincials who had not received the Eoman franchise. It was not merely the number, but the quality of this force that made them formidable ; and, however contemptible Varus might be as a general, Arminius well knew how admirably the Eoman * I cannot forbear quoting Macaulay's beautiful lines, where lie de- scilbes how similar outrages In the early times of Kome goaded the ple- beians to rise against the patricians : " Heap heavier still the fetters , bar closer still the grate ; Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruel hate. But by the shades beneath us, and by the gods above. Add not unto your cruel hate your still more cruel love. * , * * * Then leave the poor plebeian his single tie to life— The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of wife, The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vex'd soul endures, The kiss In whlcli he half forgets even such a yoke as yours. Still let the maidens beauty swell tlie fatlier's breast with pride ; Still let the bridegroom's arms enfold an unpolluted bride. Spare us tlie Inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame. That turns the coward's heart to steel, the slnggard s blood to flame ; Lf«t when our latest hope Is fled ye ta.sto of our despair, And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched dare. 110 DECISIVE BATTLES. armies wero organized and officered, and how perfectly the legion- aries understood every maneuver and every duty which the vary- ing emergencies of a stricken field might require. Stratagem was, therefore, indispensable ; and it was necessary to blind Varus to their schemes until a favorable opportunity should arrive for strik- ing a decisive blow. For this purpose, the German confederates frequented the head- qiiarters of Variis, which seem to have been near the center of the modern country of Westphalia, where the Iloman general condiict- ed himself with all the arrogant security of the ^2;overnor of a per- fectly submissive province. There Vari\s gratified at once his vanity, his rhetorical tastes, and his avarice, by holding courts, to which he summoned the Germans for the settlement of all their disputes, while a bar of Eoman advocates attended to argiie the cases before the tribunal of Varus, who did not omit the opjiortu^ nity of exacting court-fees and accepting bribes. Varus trusted implicitly to the respect which the Germans pretended to pay to his abilities as a judge, and to the interest which they affected to take in the forensic eloquence of their conquerers. Meanwhile, a succession of heavy rains rendered the country more difficult for the operations of regular troops, and Arminius, seeing that the in- fatuation of Varus was complete, secretly directed the tribes near the Weser and the Ems to take up arms in open revolt against the Romans. This was represented to Varus as an occasion which re- quired his prompt attendanceatthe spot ; but he was kept in stud- ied ignorance of its being i^art of a concerted national rising ; and he still looked on Arminius as his submissive vassal, whose aid he might rely on in facilitating the march of his troops against the rebels, and in extinquishing the local disturbance. He therefore set his ai'my in motion, and marched eastward in a line parallel to the course of the Lippe. For some distance his route lay along a level plain ; but arriving at the tract between the curve of the upper part of that stream and the sources of the Ems, the country assumes a very different character ; and here, in the territory of the modern little ^principality of Lippe, it was that Arminius had fixed the scene of his enterprise. A woody and hilly region intervenes between the heads of the two rivers, and forms the water-shed of their streams. This region Btill retains the name ( Teutoberger wald = Teutobergiensissaltus ) which it bore in the days of Arminius. The nature of the ground Jias probably also remained unaltered. The eastern part of it, yound Detmold, the modern capital of the princij^ality of Lippe, is described by a modern German scholar. Dr. Plate, as being a "table-land intersected by numerous deep and narrow vallej's, which in some places form small jilains, surrounded by steep mountains and rocks, and only accessible by narrow defiles. All the valleys are traversed by rapid streams, shallow in the dry season, but subject to sudden Kwellings in autumn and winter. VICTORY OF ARMINIUS. Ill The vast forests which cover the summits and slopes of the hills consist chiefly of oak ; there is little underwood, and botk men and horse would move with ease in the forests if the ground were not broken by guileys, or rendered impracticable by fallen trees." This is the district to which Varus is supposed to have marched ; and Dr. Plate adds, that "the names of several localities on and near that spot seem to indicate that a great battle has once been fought there. We find the names ' das Winnefeld ' ( the field of victory), ' die Knochenbahn' (the bone-lane ), 'die Knochenleke' ( the bone-brook ), ' der Mordkessel ' ( the kettle of slaughter), and others."* ' Contrary to the usual strict principles of Roman discipline, Varus had suffered his army to be accompanied and impeded by an immense train of baggage-wagons and by a rabble of camp follow- ers, as if his troops had been merely changing their quarters in a friendly country. When the long array quitted the firm level ground, and began to wind its way among the woods, the marshes, and the ravines, the difiiculties of the march, even without the intervention of an armed foe, became fearfully apparent. In many places, the soil, sodden with rain, was impracticable for cavalry, and even for infantry, until trees had been felled, and a rude causeway formed through the morass. The diities of the engineer were familiar to all who served in the lloman armies. But the crowd and confusion of the columns embarassed the working parties of the soldiery, and in the midst of their toil and disorder the word was suddenly passed through their ranks that the rear guard ■« as attacked by the barbarians. Varus resolved on pressing forward; but a heavy discharge of missiles from the woods on either flank taught him how serious was the peril, and he saw his best men falling round him without the opportunity of retaliation; for his light-armed auxiliaries, who were principally of Germanic race, now rapidly deserted, audit was impossible to deploy the legionaries on siich broken ground for a charge against the enemy. Choosing one of the most open and firm spots which they could force their way to, the Romans halted for the night; and, faithful to their national discipline and tactics, formed their camp amid the harassing attacks of the rapidly thronging foes, with the elaborate toil and systematic skill, the traces of which are impressed permanently on the soil of so many European countries, attesting the presence in the olden time of the Imperial eagles. On the morrow the Romans renewed their march, the veteran officers who served under Varus now probably directing the oper- ations, and hoping to find the Germans drawn up to meet them' in which case they relied on their own superior discipline and * 1 am tndebted for much valuable Information on tills subject to my Iriend, Mr. Henry i'earsou. 112 DECISIVE BATTLES. tactics for sucli a victory as bIiouLI reassure tlie sxiprcmacy of Rome. B'at Arminius was far loo sage a commander to lead on his followers, with their unwieldy broadswords and inefficient de- fensive armor, against the Roman legionaries, fully armed with helmet, cuirass, greaves, and shield, who were skilled to commence the conflict with a murderous volley of heavy javelins, hurled upon the foe when a few yards distant, and then, with their short cut-and-thrust swords, to hew their way through all opposition, preserving the utmost steadiness and coolness, and obeying each word of command in the midst of strife and slaughter with the same precision and alertness as if upon parade.* Arminius sufi'ered the Romans to march out from their camp, to form first in line for action, and then in column for marching, without the show of opposition. For some distance Varus was allowed to move on, only harassed by slight skirmishes, but struggling with difficulty through the broken ground, the toil and distress of his men being aggravated by heavy torrents of rain, which burst upon the devoted legions, as if the angry gods of Germany were pouring out the vials of their wrath upon the invaders. After some little time their van approached a ridge of high woody ground, which is one of the olfshcots of the great Hercynian fore-t, and is situate between the modern villages of Dribui-g and Bielefeld. Arminius had caused barricades of hewn trees to be formed here, so as to add to the natural difficulties of the passage. Fatigue and dis- couragement now began to betray themselves in the Roman ranks. Their line became less steady; baggage wagons were abandoned from the impossibility of forcing them along; and, as this happen- ed, many soldiers left their ranks and crowded round the wagons to secure the most valuable portions of their property: each was busy about his own affairs, and purposely slow in hearing the word of command from his officers. Arminius now gave the sig- nal for a general attack. The fierce shouts of the Germans pealed through the gloom of the forests, and in thronging multitudes they assailed the flanks of the invaders, pouring in clouds of darts on the encumbered legionaries, as they struggled up the glens or floundered in the morasses, and watching every opportunity of charging through the intervals of the disjointed column, and so cutting off the communication between its several brigades. Ar° minius, with a chosen band of personal retainers round him, jcheered on his countrymen by voice and example. He aud his ' men aimed their weapoDs particularly at the horses of the Roman cavalry. The wounded animals, slippiDg about in the mire and their own blood, threw their riders and plunged among the ranks of the legions, disordering all round them. Varus now ordered * See Gibbon's description (vol. 1., chap. 1 ) of the Roman rejjions in tlio time of Augustus ; and see the description in I'acitiis, "Ann.,"' lib. i., of the subsequent battles between Cajclna and Armi.nius. VICTOR Y OF ARMINIUS. 113 the troops to be countermarched, in the hope of reaching the nearest lloman garrison on the Lippe.* But retreat now was as impracticable as advance; and the falling back of the Romans only augmented the courage of their assailants, and caused fiercer and more frequent charges on the flanks of the disheartened army. The Eoman officer who commanded the cavalry, Numon- ius Vala, rode off with his squadrons in the vain hope of escaping by thus abandoning his comrades. Unable to keep together, or force their way across the woods and swamps, the horsemen were overpowered in detail, and slaughtered to the last man. The Eo- ^man infantry still held together and resisted, but more through the instinct of discii:)line and bravery than from any hope of suc- cess or escai^e. Varus, after being severely wounded in a charge of the Germans against his part of the column, committed suicide to avoid falling into the hands of those whom he had exasperated by his oijpressions. One of the lieutenant generals of the army fell fighting ; the other surrendered to the enemy. But mercy to a fallen foe had never been a Roman virtue, and" those among her legions who now laid down their arms in hope of quarter, drank deep of the cup of suffering, which Rome had held to the lips of many a brave but unfortunate enemy. The infuriated Germans slaughtered their oppressors with deliberate ferocity, and those prisoners who were not hewn to pieces on the spot were only pre- served to perish by a more cruel death in cold blood. The bulk of the Roman army fought steadily and stubbornly, frequently rei^elling the masses of assailants, but gradually losing the compactness of their arraj', and becoming weaker and weaker beneath the incessant shower of darts and the reiterated assaults of the vigorous and unencumbered Germans. At last, in a series of desiderate attacks, the column was pierced through and through, two of the eagles cajjtured, and the Roman host which on the y ester morning had marched forth in such pride and might, now broken up into confused fragments, either fell fighting beneath the over- powering numbers of the enemy, or perished in the swamps and woods in unavailing efforts at flight. Few, very few, ever saw again the left bank of the Rhine. One body of brave veterans, arraying themselves in a ring on a little mound, beat off" every * The circumstances or tlie early part of the battle which Arminlus fought vvlth Cijecina si.x j'ears uiterward e\iclpntly resemhled tliose of his battle wltli Varus, and the result was very near being tlic same : I have ilicrelore adopted i)art of tlie description whicli '1 acltus gn^ves ( ' Annal.. hb.. 1 , c. tifi) of the last-mentioned engagement: "Neque tamen Arniiulus. quauiquaiu llbero Incursu, statim prorupit: sed ut hffisere cceno fo.ssi.sciue impedimenta, turb.itl eircum milites; inecrtus signorum ordo; utquo t;ih in tenqjoi-e silji quis lue pioperiLs, et Icntic adversum mpcria anrcs inuuqion! Grrmanos iubet, clamitans 'En varus, ct eodeni Iieruiu fato victa^ Irgiones!' Mmul La;c, ct cum delectis scindil agmen, equisciue maxhne vuliii-ra ingcrit; 1111 sanguine suo et lubrico paludum lapsautes, excussis rcctoribus, diajlccre obvios, proterere Jacentes." " 114 DECISIVE BATTLES. charge of the Germans, and prolonged their honorable resistance to the close of that dreadful day. The traces of a feeble attempt at forming a ditch and mound attested in after years the spot where the last of thellomans passed their night of suffering and despair. But on the morrow this remnant also, worn oiit with hunger, V'ounds, and toil, was cliarged by the victorious Germans, and "hither massacred on the spot, or offered up in fearful rites at the fcltars of the deities of the old mythology of the North. A gorge in the mountain ridge, through which runs the modern road between Paderborn and Pyrmont, leads from the sjoot where the heat of the battle raged to the Extersteine, a cluster of bold and grotesque rocks of sandstone, near which is a small sheet of water, overshadowed by a grove of aged trees. According to local tradition, this was one of the sacred groves of the ancient Germans, and it was here that the Roman captives were slain in sacriiice by the victorioiis warriors of Arminius. * Never was a victory more decisive, never was the liberation of an oppressed people more instantaneous and complete. Through- out Germany the Koman garrisons were assailed and cut off; and, within a few weeks after Varus had fallen, the German soil was freed from the foot of an invader. At Kome the tidings of the battle were received with an agony of terror, the reports of which we should deem exaggerated, did they not come from Roman historians themselves. They not only tell emphatically how great was the awe which the Romans felt of the prowess of the Germans, if their various tribes could be brought to unite for a common purpose,! but also they reveal how weakened and debased the population of Italy had become. Dion Cassius says (lib. Ivi., sec. 23 1, "Then Augustus, when he heard the calamity of Varus, rent his garment, and was in great affliction for the troops he had lost, and for terror respecting the Germans and the Gauls. And his chief alarm was, that he expected them to push on against Italy and Rome ; and there remained no Roman youth fit for military duty that were worth speaking of, and the allied populations, that were at all serviceable, had been wasted away. Yet he prepared for the emergency as well as bis means allowed ; and when none of the citizens of military age were willing to enlist, he made them cast lots, and punished by * " Lucis propinquis barbar^ aroe, apud quas tribunes ac prlmorum or-f dinum centuriones mactaverant."— Tacitus, Ann., lib. i., c 61. t It is clear that the Romans followed the policy ot fomenting: dissensions and wars o£ the Germans among themselves. See the thirty-second section o£ the "Germania " of Tacitus, where he mentions the destruction of the Bructert by the neighboring tribes ; " Favore quodam ergamos deorum : nam ne spectaculo quldem proelli invldere ; super Ix. millia nou armis tel- Isque EomaDis, sed quod magnificentius est, oblectatiom oculisque ceclde- runt. M aneat quseso, duretque gentibus, si non amor nostrl, at certe odium sul : quando urgentibus ImperU fatis, hihll Jam praestare ior tuoa majus potest quam liostium tliacordiam.' ' VICTORY OF ARMIXIUS. 115 confiscation of goods and disfranchisement every fifth man among those under thirty-five, and every teuth man of those above that age. At hist, when ho found that not even thus could he make many come forward, he put some of them to death. So he mado a conscription of discharged veterans and of emancipated slaves, and, collecting as large a force as he could, sent it, under Tiberius, with all speed into Germany." j Dion mentions, also, a number of terrific portents that were be- 'lieved to have occurred at the time, and the narration of which is not immaterial, as it shows the state of the i^ublic mind, when Buch things were so believed in and so interpreted. The summits of the Alps were said to have fallen, and three columns of fire to have blpzed up from them. In the Campus Martius, the temple of the war-god, from whom the founder of Eome had Si^rung, was stiiick by a thunderbolt. The nightly heavens glowed several times, as if on fire. Many comets blazed forth together; and fiery meteors shaped like spears, had shot from the northern qiiarter of the sky down into the Roman camps. It was said, too, that a statue of Victory, which had stood at a place on the frontier, point- ing the way toward Germany, had, of its own accord, turned round, and now j^ointed to Italy. These and other prodigies were believed by the multitude to accompany the slaughter of Varus's legions, and to manifest the anger of the gods against Home. Augustus himself was not free from superstition ; but on this occasion no supernatural terrors were needed to increase the alarm and grief that he felt, and which made him, even months after the news of the battle had arrived, often beat his head against the wall, and exclaim, " Quintilius Varus, give me back my legions." We learn this from his biograijher Suetoniiis ; and, indeed, every ancient writer who alludes to the overthrow of Varus attests the importance of the blow against the Eoman power, and the bitter- ness with which it was felt.* The Germans did not pursue their victory beyond their own territory ; but that victory secured at once and forever the inde- pendence of the Teutonic race. Eome sent, indeed, her legions, again into Germany, to parade a temporary superiority, but all hopes ©f permanent conquests were abandoned by Augustus and his suc- cessors. The blow whieh Arminius had struck never was forgotten. Ro- man fear disguised itself under the specious title of moderation, and the Rhine became the acknowledged boundary of the two nations until the fifth century of our era, when tlie Germans be- came the assailants, and carved with their conijuering s%s'ords the provinces of imperial Rome into the kingdoms of modern Eu- rope. * Floras expresses Its effect most pithily: "Ilac clado faetum est ut Itn- perlum quod in litoro oceanl non steterat. In rlpa Rhenl lluininis staret," Iv., la. 116 DECISIVE BATTLES. AEMiNros. I have said above that the great Cherusean is more truly one of OTir national heroes than Caractacus is. It may be added that an Englishman is entitled to claim a closer degree of relationship with Arminius than can be claimed by any German of modern Germany. The proof of this depends on the proof of four facts : first, that the Cheruscans were Old Saxons, or Saxons of the inte- rior of Germany ; secondly, that the Anglo-Saxons, or Saxons of the coast of Germany, were more closely akin than other German tribes were to the Cherusean Saxons : thirdly, that the Old Saxons were almost exterminated by Charlemagne ; fourthly, that the Anglo-Saxons are our immediate ancestors. The last of these may be assumed as an axiom in English history. The proofs of the other three are partly philological and partly historical. I have not space to go into them here, but they will be found in the early chapters of the great work of my friend. Dr. Kobert Gordon La- tham, on the "English Language," and in the notes to his forth- coming edition of the "Germania of Tacitus." It may be, however, here remarked, that the present Saxons of Germany are of the High Germanic division of the German race, whereas both the Anglo-Saxon and Old Saxon were of the Low Germanic. Being thus the nearest heirs of the glory of Arminiiis, we may fairly devote more attention to his career than, in such a v.'ork as the present, could be allowed to any individual leader ; and it is interesting to trace how far his fame survived during the Middle Ages, both among the Germans of the Continent and among our- selves. It seems probable that the jealousy with which Mareboduus, the king of the Suevi and Marcomanni, regarded Arminius, and which ultimately broke out into open hostilities between those German tribes and the Cherusci, prevented Arminius from leading the con- federate Germans to attack Italy after his first victory. Perhaps he may have had the rare moderation of being content with the lib- eration of his country, without seeking to retaliate on her former oppressors. When Tiberias marched into Germany in the year 10, Arminius was too cautious to attack him on ground favorable to the legions, and Tiberias was too skilful to entangle his troops in the difficult parts of the country. His march and countermarch were as unresisted as they were unproductive. A few years later, when a dangerous revolt of the Roman legions near the frontier caused their generals to find them active employment by leading them into the interior of Germany, we find Arminius again active in his country's defense. The old quarrel between him and his father-in-law, Segestes, had broken out afresh. Segestes now called in the aid of the Roman general, Germanicus, to whom he surrendered himself ; and by his contrivance, his daughter Thus- ARMINIUS. 117 nelda, tlae wife of Arminius, aiso came into the hands of the Ro- mans, being far advanced in i^regnancy. She showed, as Tacitus relates,* more of the sijirit of her husband than of her father, a spirit that could not be subdued into tears or supiilications. She ■<*'as sent to Ravenna, and there gave birth to a son. whose life we know from an allusion in Tacitus, to have been eventful and \\n- happy ; but the part of the great historian's work which narrated his fate has perished, and we only know from another quarter that the son of Arminius was, at the age of four years, led captive in a triumphal pageant along the streets of Rome. The high spirit of Arminius was goadxl almost into phrensybyi these bereavements. The fate of his \n.ie, thus torn from him, and of his babe doomed to bondage even before its birth, inflamed the eloquent invectives with which he roused his countrymen against the home-traitors, and against their invaders, who thus made war upon women and children. Germanicus had marched his army ^ to the place where Varus had perished, and had there paid funeral honors to the ghastly relics of his predecessor's legions that he found heaped around him.f Arminius lured him to advance a little further into the country, and then assailed him, and fought a battle, which, by the Roman accounts, was a drawn one. The effect of it was to make Germanicus resolve on retreating to the Rhine. He himself, with part of his troops, embarked in some vessels on the Ems, and returned by that river, and then by sea ; but part of his forces were intrusted to a Roman general named C'fecina, to lead them back by land to the Rhine. Arminius followed this division on its march, and fought several battles with it, in which he inflicted heavy loss on the Romans, captured the greater paii of their baggage, and would have destroyed them completely, had not his skilful system of operations been finally thwarted by tho haste of Ingttiomerus, a confederate German chief, who insisted on assaulting the Romans in their camp, instead of waiting till they were entangled in the difl&culties of the country, and assailing their columns on the march. In the following year the Romans were inactive, but in the year afterward Germanicus led a fresh invasion. He placed his army on shipboard, and sailed to the mouth of the Ems, where he dis- embarked, and marched to the Weser, where he encamped, prob- ably in the neighborhood of Minden. Arminius had collected his army on the otlier side of the river ; and a scene occurred, which is powerfully told by Tacitus, and which is the subject of a beau- tiful poem by Pra;d. It has been already mentioned that tlie brother of Arminius, like himself, had been trained up while young * " Ann.,"l ,57, + In llic Museum of Khcnisli Antiquities at Bonn tlicro Is a Koman se- pulcliral monument, the Inscription on which records that It was erected to the memory of M. Coellus, who tell " Uello Variano. 118 DECISIVE BATTLES. to serve in flio Koman armies ; bnt, unlike Arminius, he not only refiised to quit the lloman service for that of bis coimtry, but fought against his country with the legions of Germanicus. He had assumed the Eoman name of Flavius, and had gained consid- erable distinction in the Eoman service, in which he had lost an eye from a wound in battle. When the Eoman outposts ap- proached the Eiver Weser, Arminius called out to them from the opposite bank, and expressed a wish to see his brother. Flavius stepped forward, and Arminius ordered his own followers to retire, and requested that the archers should be removed from the Eoman bank of the river. This was done; and the brothers, who apparently had not seen each other for some years, began a con- versation from the opposite side of the stream, in which Arminius questioned his brother respecting the loss of his eye, and what battle it had been lost in, and what reward he had received for his wound. Flavius told him how the eye was lost, and men- tioned the increased pay that he had on account of its loss, and showed the collar and other military decorations that had been given him. Arminius mocked at these as badges of slavery ; and then each began to try to win the other over. Flavius boasting the power of Eome, and her generosity to the submissive • Ar- minius apijealing to him in the name of their country's gods, of the mother that had borne them, and by the holy names of father- land and freedom, not to prefer being the betrayer to being the champion of his country. They soon proceeded to mutual taunts and menaces, and Flavius called aloud for his horse and his arms, that he might dash across tho river and attack his brother ; nor would he have been checked from doing so, had not the Eoman general Stertinius run up to him and forcibly detained him. Ar- minius stood on the other uank threatening the renegade, and defying him to battle. I shall not be thought to need apology for quoting here the stanzas in which Prajd has described this scene — a scene among the most affecting, as well as the most striking, that history sup- plies. It makes us reflect on the desolate position of Arminius, with his wife and child captives in the enemy's hands, and with his brother a renegade in arms against him. The great liberator of our German race was there, with every source of human happi- ( ness denied him except the consciousness of doing his duty to hia country. Back, back ! he tears not foaming flood Who fears not steel-clad line : No warrior thou of German blood. No brother thou of mine. Go, earn Home's chain to load thy neck, Her gems to deck thy hilt ; And blazon honor's hapless wreck With aU the gauds of gilt. AEMINIUS 119 But wouldst thou have me share the prey ? By all that I have done, The Varlan bones that day hy day Lie whitening In the sun, The legion's trampled panoply, The eagle's shatter'd wing— I would not be tor earth or sky So scorn'd and mean a thing. Ho, call me here the wizard, boy, Oi" dark and subtle skill To agonize but not destroy, To torture, not to kill. When swords are out, and shriek and shout Leave little room for prayer, No fetter on man's arm or heart Hangs half so heavy there. I curse him by the gifts the land Hath won from him and Rome, The riving axe, the wasting brand Kent forest, blazing home. 1 curse him by our country's gods, The terrible, the dark. The breakers of the Roman rods, The smlters of the bark. Oh, misery that such a ban On such a brow should be ! Why comes he not in battle's van His country's chief to be ? To stand a comrade by my side. The sharer of my fame, And worthy of a brother's pride And of a brother's name ? But It Is past ! where heroes press And cowards bend the knee, Armlnlus is not brotherless. His brethren are the free. Thev come around : one hour, and light Will fade from tuil and tide. Then onward, onward to the light. With darkness for our guide. To-night, to-night, when we shall meet In combat face to face. Then only would Armlnlus greet The renegade's embrace. The canker of Rome's guilt shall be Upon his dying name ; And as he lived in slavery. Bo shall he fall in shame. i>;men made his- tory, but did not write it. But his memory lived among them in the lays of their bards, who recorded The deeds lie did, the fields he won, The Ii'eedom he restored. Tacitus, writing years after the death of Arminius, says of him, " Canitur adhue barbaras ajiud ^gentes." As time passed on, the gratitude of ancient Germany to her great deliverer grew into ado- ration, and divine honors were paid for centuries to Arminius by every tribe of the Low Germanic division of the Teutonic races. The Irmin-sul, or the column of Herman, near Eresbergh, the mordern Stadtberg, was the chosen object of worship to the de- scendants of the Cherusci, the old Saxons, and in defense of which they fought most desperately against Charlemagne and his Christianized Franks. "Irmin, in the cloudy Olympus of Teu- tonic belief, appears as a king and a warrior ; and the pillar, the 'Irmin-sul,' bearing the statue, and considered as the symbol of the deity, was the Palladium of the Saxon nation until the temple of Eresbergh was destroyed by Charlemagne, and the column itself transferred to the monastery of Corbey, where perhaps a portion of the rude rock idol yet remains, covered by the ornaments of the Gothic era."'t Traces of the worship of Arminius are to be found among our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, after their settlement in this island. One of the four great highways was held to be under the protection of the deitj', and was called the "Irmin street." The name Arminius is, of course, the mere Latinized form of "Herman," the name by which the hero and the deity were known by every man of Low German blood on either side of the German Sea. It means, etymologically, the "War-man," the " man of hosts." No other explanation of the worship of the '• Irmin-sul," and of the name of the "Irmin street," is so satisfac- tory as that which connects them with the deified Arminius. We know for certain of the existence of other columns of an analogous character. Thus there was the Eolandseule in North Germany ,- there was a Thor-seule in Sweden, and (what is more imx^ortant; there was an Athelstan-seule in Saxon England.}: I There is at the present moment a song respecting the Irmin-sul current in the bishopric of Minden, one version of which might Beem only to refer to Charlemagne having pulled down the Irmin- sul. * See Tacitus, "Ami.," lib. li., sec. ss ; Velleius Paterculus, lib. L., sec. 118. t Pal^ave on the " English Commonwealth," vol. 11., p. 140. t See Lappenburg's " AiiKlo-Saxoiis." p. 3T(>. Per neaily all the phllo- lotrlcal and ethnographical lautd respecting Arminius, I am indebted to my Irlend, Dr. E. G. Latham. 122 DECISIVE BATTLES. Ilerman, sla dcrmen, Sla plpen, sla tnimmen, Ue Kaiser will kummen. • Wet liamer un slangcn, Will iierinau upliaugen. But there is anotlier version, whicli probably is the oldest, and ■which clearly refers to the great Arminius. ITn Ilerman slau^ dermen, ■ Slaug plpen, slaug trummen ; De lursten slnd kammeu, Met all eren-mannen llebt yearns upliangen.* Aboiit ten centuries and a half after the demolition of the Irmin- sul, and nearly eighteen after the death of Arminius, the modern Germans conceived the idea of rendering tardy homage to their great hero ; and accordingly, some eight or ten years ago, a general Kiibscription was organized in Germany for the purpose of erecting on the Osning — a conical mountain, which forms the highest sum- mit of the Teutoberger Wald, and is eighteen hundred feet above the level of the sea— a colossal bronze statue of Arminius. The statue was designed by Bandal. The hero was to stand uplifting a sword in his right hand, and looking toward the Rhine. The height of the statue was to be eighty feet from the base to the point of the Bword, and was to stand on a circular Gothic temple ninety feet high, and supported by oak trees as columns. The mountain, where it was to be erected, is wild and stern, and overlooks the scene of the battle. It was calculated that the statute would be clearly visible at a distance of sixty miles. The temple is nearly finished, and the statue itself has been cast at the copper works at Lemgo. But there, through want of funds to set it lip, it has lain for some years, in disjointed fragments, exposed to the mutilating homage of relic-seeking travelers. The idea of honoring a hero, who belongs to all Germany, is not one which the present rulers of that divided country have any wish to encourage ; and the statue may long continue to lie there, and pre- sent too true a type of the condition of Germany herself, f Surely this is an occasion in which Englishmen might well prove, by acts as well as words, that we also rank Arminius among our heroes. I I have quoted the noble stanzas of one of our modern English poets on Arminius, and I will conclude this memoir with one of the odes of the great poet of modern Germany, Klopstock, on the "victory to which we owe our freedom, and Arminius mainly owes his fame. Klopstock calls it the "Battle of Winfeld." The epi- * See Grimm, "Deutsche Mythologie," 329. t On the subjex;t of this status, I must repeat an acknowledgment of my Obligations to my friend, Mr, Henry Pearson. ARMimUS. 123 thet of " sister of Cannse " shows tliat Klopstook followed some chronologcrs, according to whom Yariis was defeated on the anni- versary of the day on which Paulus and Varro were defeated by Hannibal. SONG OF TEHTMPH AFTEE THE VICTORY OF HEEEMAN, THE DELIVEBEE OF GEEMANY FEOM THE EOMANS. FROM KLOPSTOCk'S " HERMANN UND DIE FURSTKN. ' Supposed io he sung hy a chorus of Bards. A CHOKUS. Sister of Cannos ! * Winfeld's t fight ! We saw tliee witli thy streaming, bloody hair, With fiery eye, bright mth the world's despair. Sweep by Walhalla's bards from out our sight. Herrman outspake : " Now Victory or Death ! " The Komans ..." Victory ! " And onward rushed their eagles with the cry. So ended the jimt day. "Victory or Death ! " began Then, first, the Roman chief ; and Herrman spake Not, but home-struck : the eaglesjfluttered— brake So sped the second day. TWO CHORUSES. And the third came . . . the cry was " FUght or Death ! FUght left they not for them who'd make them slaves- Wen who stab children ! flight for them! ... no! graves! •"Twas their last day." TWO BARDS. Yet spared they messengers : they came to 'Rome- How drooped the plume— the lance was left to trail Down in the dust behind— their cheek was pale — So came the messengers to Home. High In his hall the imperator sat — Gctavianns Ccesar Augustus sat. They filled up wlne-c'ups, wine-cups filled they up For him the hlghtest— wine-cups filled they up For him the highest, Jove of all theli- state. The flutes of Lydla hushed before their voice,; Before the messengers— the "Highest" sprung— The god+ against the marble pillars, wrung »■ ^ — ■ ■ * The battle of Cannae, b.c, 216— Hannibal's victory over the Romans. t Wlnfeld— the probable site of the " Uerrmanschladt;'^ see tupra. '■- v'* i t Augiistua was worshipped as a deity in his lifetime. 124 DECISIVE BATTLES. By the dread words, striking' his brow, and thrloe t'Hed he aloud lu anguish, ' ' Varus ! Varus ! Give back my legions, Varus!" And now the world-wide conquerors shrunk and feared For fatherland and home, The lance to raise ; and 'monffst those false to Kome The death -lot rolled,* and still they shrunk and feared- " For she her face hath turned The victor goddess " cried those cowards-(for aye Be it !)— " from Home and Romans, and her day Is done"— and still he mourned. And cried aloud in anguisli, " Varus! Vamsl Give back my legions, Varus ! '"t Synopsis of Events between Aemintus's Victoey oteb Vaeus AND THE Battle of Chalons. A. D. 43. The Eomans commence the conquest of Britain, Clau- dius being then Emperor of Eome. The population of this island was then Celtic. In about forty years all the tribes south of the Clyde were subdued, and their land made a Roman province. 58-60. Successful campaigns of the Eoman general Corbule against the Parthians. 64. First persecutions of the Christians at Eome under Nero. 68-70. Civil wars in the Eoman world. The Emperors Nero, Galba, Otho, and Vitellius cut off successively by violent deaths! Vespasian becomes Emi^eror. 70. Jerusalem destroyed by the Eomans under Titus. 83. Futile attack of Domitian on the Germans. 86. Beginning of the wars between the Eomans and the Dacians. 98-117. Trajan emperor of Eome. Under him the empire ac- quires its greatest territorial extent by his conquests in Dacia and in the East. His successor, Hadrian, abandons the provinces be- yond the Euphrates which Trajan had conquered. 138-180. Eraof the Antonines. 167-176. A long and desperate war between Eome and a great confederacy of the German nations. Marcus Antoninus at last succeeds in repelling them. 192-197. Civil wars throughout the Eoman world. Severus be- comes emperor. He relaxes the discipline of the soldiers. After his death in 211, the series of military insurrections, civil wars, and murders of emperors recommences. 226. Artaxerxes (Ardisheer) overthrows the Parthian and restores the Persian kingdom in Asia. He attacks the Eoman possessions in the East. * See supra, p. 1.^9. t I have taken this translation from an anonymous writer In "Frazer/ two years ago. BATTLE OF CHALONS. 125 250. The Goths invade the Koman provinces. The Emperor Decius is defeated and slain by them. 253-260. The Franks and Alemanni invade Gaul, Spain, and Africa. The Goths attack Asia Minor and Greece. The Persians conquer Armenia. Their king, Sapor, defeats the Koman Emjieror Valerian, and takes him prisoner. General distress of the Koman empire. 268-283. The Emperors Claudius, Aurelian, Tacitus, Probus, and Cams defeat the various enemies of Kome, and restore order in the Koman state. 285. Diocletian divides and reorganizes the Koman empire. After his abdication in 305 a fresh series of civil wars and confus- ion ensues. Constantine, the first Christian emperor, reunites the empire in 324. 330. Constantine makes Constantinople the seat of empire instead of Kome. 363. The Emperor Julian is killed in action against the Persians. 364-375. The empire is again divided, Yalentinian being Em- peror of the West, and Valcns of the East. Yalentinian repulses the Alemanni, and other German invaders from Gaul. Splendor of the Gothic kingdom under Hermanric, north of the Danube. 375-395. The Huns attack the Goths, who implore the protection of the Koman emperor of the East. The Goths are allowed to pass the Danube, and to settle in the Koman provinces. A war soon breaks out between them and the Komans, and the Emperor Valens and his army are destroyed by them. They ravage the Koman territories. The Emperor Theodosius reduces them to submission. They retain settlements in Thrace and Asia Minor. 395. Final division of the Roman empire between Arcadius and Honorius, the two sons of Theodosius. The Goths revolt, and under Alaric attack various parts of both the Koman empires. 410. Alaric takes the city of Kome. 412. The Goths march into Gaul, and in 414 into Spain, which had been invaded by hosts of Vandals, Suevi, Alani, and other Germanic nations. Britain is formally abandoned by the Koman empire of the West. 428. Gens<^ric, king of the Vandals, conquers the Koman province of North Africa. 411. The Huns attack the Eastern empire. CHAPTEK \T:. THE BATTLE OF CHALONS, A. D. 451. The discomfiture of the mighty attempt of Attllato formd a new anti- Christian dynasty upon the wreck of the temporal power of Kome, at the 126 DECISn ^E BA TTLES. end of the term of twelve Imnclrcd years to which Its duration had been limited by the forebodings of the heathen.— Hekbert.J _ A BEGAT) expanse of plains, the Campi Catalaunici of the an- cients, spreads far and wide around the city of Chalons, in the northeast of France. The long rows of poplars, through which the River Marne winds its way, and a few thinly-scattered villages, are almost the only objects that vary the monotonous aspect of tho greater part of this region. But about five miles from Chalons, near the little hamlets of Chape and Cuperly, the groiind is in- dented and heaped up in ranges of grassy mounds and trenches, which attest the work of man's hands in ages past, and which, to the practiced eye, demonstrate that this quiet spot has once been the fortified position of a huge military host. Local tradition gives to these ancient earth-works the name of Attila's Camji. Nor is there any reason to question the correctness of the title, or to doubt that behind these very ramparts it was that 1400 j-ears ago the most powerful heathen king that ever ruled in Eurojje mustered the remnants of his vast army, which had striven on these plains against the Christian soldiery of Thoulouse and Kome. Here it was that Attila prepared to resist to the death his victors in the field ; and here he heaped up the treasures of his camp into one vast pile, which was to be his funeral pyre should his camp be stormed. It was here that the Gothic and Ifalian forces watched, but dared not assail their enemy ia his desiDair, after that great and terrible day of battle when " The sound Of conflict was o'erpast, the shout of all Whom earth could send from her remotest bounds. Heathen or faithful; from thy hundred mouths, That feed the Caspian with Klphean snows. Huge Volga! from famed Hypanis, which once Cradled ,tlie Hun ; from all the countless realms Between Imaus and that utmost strand Where columns of Herculean rock confront The blown Atlantic ; Roman, Goth, and Hun, And Scythian strength of chivalry, that tread The cold Codanian shore, or what far lands Inhospitable drink Cimmerian Hoods, Franks. Saxons, suevic, and SaiToatlan chiefs, And who from green Armorica or Spain Flocked to the work of death."* \ The victory which the Eoman general, Aetius, with his Gothio. allies, had then gained over the Huns, was the last victory of im- perial Eome. But among the long Fasti of her triumphs, few can be found thatfor their imjiortance and ultimate benefit to mankind, are comparable with this expiring eifort of her arms. It did not, indeed, open to her any new career of conqvaest — it did not consoli- * Herbert's "Attila," book 1., line 13. BATTLE OF CHALONS. 127 date the relics of her power — it did not turn the rapid ebb of her fortunes. The mission of imperial Home was, in truth, already accomplished. She had received and transmitted through her once ample dominion the civilization of Greece, She had broken up the barriers of narrow nationalities among the various states and tribes that dwelt around the coasts of the Mediterrannean. She had fused these and many other races into one organized empire, bound together by a community of laws, of government, and institutions. Under the shelter of her full power the True Faith had arisen in the earth, and during the years of her decline it had been nour- ished to maturity, it had overspread all the provinces that ever obeyed her sway.* For no beneficial purpose to mankind coiild the dominion of the seven-hilled city have been restored or-pro- longed. But it was all-important to mankind what nations should divide among them Rome's rich inheritance of empire. Whether, the Germanic and Gothic warriors should form slates and king- doms out of the fragments of her dominions, and become the free members of the commonwealth of Christian Europe ; or whether pagan savages from the wilds of Central Asia, should crush the relics of classic civilization and the early institutions of the Christianized Germans in one hopeless chaos of barbaric. con- quest. The Christian Visigoths of King Theodoric fought and triumphed at Chalons side by side with the legions of Aetius, Their joint victory over the Hunnish host not only rescued for a time from destruction the old age of Rome, but preserved for cen- turies of iDower and glory the Germanic element in the civilization of modern Europe. In order to estimate the full importance to mankind of the battle of Chalons, we must keep steadily in mind who and what the Ger- mans were, and the important distinctions between them and the numerous other races that assailed the Roman empire ; and it is to be vinderstood that the Gothic and Scandinavian nations are in- cluded in the German race. Now, "in two remarkable ti'aits, the Germans differed from the Sarmatic as well as from the Slavic na- tions, and, indeed, from all those other races to whom the Greeks and Romans gave the designation of barbarians. I allude to their personal freedom and regard for the rights of men ; secondly, to the respect iDaid by them to the female sex, and the chastity for which the latter were celebrated among the people of the North. These were the foundations of that probity of character, self-respect, and purity of manners which may be traced among the Germans and Goths even during pagan times, and which, when their sentiments were enlightened by Christianity, brought out those splendid traits of character which distinguish the age of chivalry and ro- mance."! What the intermixture of the German stock with the * See the Introduction to Ranke's " History of the Popes."' t See I'rlchard'a " Itcacai'clies into the Thysical History of Man," vol. 111., p. 423. 128 DECISIVE BATTLES. classic, at tlio fall of the Western empire, lias done for mankind, may be best feli by watcliing, with Arnold, over how large a por- tion of the earth the influence of the Grerman element is now ex- tended. " It aifects, more or less, the whole west of Europe, from the head of the Gulf of Bothnia to the most southern i:>romontory of Sicily, from the Oder and tbe Adriatic to the Hebrides and to Lis- bon. It is true that tbe language spoken over a large portion of this sj^ace is not predominantly German ; but even in Franco, and Italy, and Sixain, the influence of the Franks, Burgundians, Visi- goths, Ostrogoths, and Lombards, while it has colored even the language, has in blood and institutions left its mark legibly and indelibly. Germany, the Low coiintries, Switzerland for the most part, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden; and our own islands, are all in language, in blood, and in institutions, German most decidely. But all South America is jjeopled with Sjianiards and Portuguese; all North America, and all Australia, with Englishmen. I say nothing of the prospects and influence of the German race in Africa and in India: it is enough to say that half of Europe, and all America and Australia, are German, more or less completely, in race, in language, or in institutions, or in all."* By the middle of the fifth century, Germanic nations had settled themselves in many of the fairest regions of the Roman empire, had imposed their yoke on the provincials, and had undergone, to a considerable extent, that moral conquest which the arts and refinements of the vanquished in arms have so often achieved over the rough victor. The Visigoths held the north of Spiain, and Gaiil soiith of the Loire. Franks, Alemanni, Alans, aijd Burgun- dians had established themselves in other Gallic i^rovinces, and the Suevi were masters of a large southern portion of the Spanish peninsula. A king of the Vandals reigned in North Africa : and the Ostrogoths had firmly planted themselves in the provinces north of Italy. Of these powers and principalities, that of the Visigoths, under their king Theodoric, son of Alaric, was by far the tirst in power and in civilization. The pressure of the Huns upon Europe had first been felt in the fourth century of our era. They had long been formidable to the Chinese empire, but the ascendency in arms which another nomadic tribe of Central Asia, the Sienpi, gained over them, drove the Huns from their Chinese conqiiests westward ; and this move- ment once being communicated to the whole chain of barbaric nations that dwelt northward of the Black Sea and the Roman empire, tribe after tribe of savage warriors broke in ujion the bar- riers of civilized Europe, "Velut unda supervenit undam." The Huns crossed the Tanais into Europe in 375 and rapidly reduced to subjection the Alans, the Ostrogoths, and other tribes that * Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History," p. 35. BATTLE OF CIIALOXS. 129 \pere then dwelling along the coiirse of the Danube. The armies of the Ivoman emperor that tried to check their progress were cut to pieces by them, and Pannonia and other provinces south of tho Danube were speedily occupied by the victorious cavalry of these newinvarlers. Isot merely the degenerate llomans, but the bold and hardy warriors of Germany and Scandinavia, were appalled at the number, the ferocity, the ghastly appearance and the lightning- like rapidity of the Huns. Strange and loathsome legends were coined and credited, which attributed their origin to the union of " Secret, black, and mldniglit hags," with the evil spirits of the wilderness. Tribe after tribe, and city after city, fell before them. Then came a pause in their career of conquest in southwestern Europe, caused probably by dissensions among their chiefs, and also by their arms being employed in attacks upon the Scandinavian na- tions. But when Attila (or Atzel, as he is called in the Hungarian language) became their ruler, the torrent of- their arms was directed with augmented terrors upon the west and the south, and their myriads marched beneath the guidance of one master-mind to the overthrow both of the new and the old powers of the earth, liecent events have thrown such a strong interest over every thing connected with the Hungarian name, that even the terrible renown of Attila now impresses us the more vividly through our sympathizing admiration of the exploits of tho.se who claim to be descended from his warriors, and "ambitiously insert the name of Attila among their native kings." The authenticity of this mar- tial genealogy is denied by some writers and questioned by more. But it is at least certain that the Magyaar of Arpad, who are the immediate ancestors of the bulk of the modern Hungarians, and who conquered the country which bears the name of Hungary in A.D. 889, were of the same stock of mankind as were the Huns of Attila, even if they did not belong to the same subdivision of that stock. Kor is there any improbability in the tradition that after Attila's death many of his warriors remained in Hungary, and that their descendants afterward joined the Huns of Arpad in their career of conquest. It is certain that Attila made Hungary the seat of his empire. It seems also susceptible of clear proof that the territory was then called Hungvar and Attila's soldiers Hung- vari. Both the Huns of Attila and those of Arpad came from the family of nomadic nations Mhose primitive regions were those vast wildernesses of High Asia which are included between the Altaic and the Himalayan mountain chains. The inroads of these tribes upon tho lower regions of Asia and into Europe have caused many of the most remarkable revolutions in the history of the world. There is every reason to believe that swarms of these nations made their way into distant parts of tho earth, at periods long before the date of he Scythian invasion of Asia, which is the earliest D.B.— 5 130 DECISIVE BATTLES. inroad of the nomadic race that history records. The first, as far as ■we can conjecture, in respect to the time of their descent, were the Finnish and Ugrian tribes, who appear to have come down from the Altaic border of High Asia toward the northwest, in which direc- tion they advanced to the Uralian Mountains. There they estab- lished themselves ; and that mountain chain, with its valleys and pasture lands, became to them a new country, whence they sent out colonies on every side ; but the Ugiian colony, which, under Arpad, occupied Hungary, and became the ancestors of the bulk of the present Hungarian nation, did not qtiit their settlements on the Uralian Mountains till a very late period, and not until four centuries after the time when Attila led from the primary seats of the nomadic races in High Asia the host with which he advanced into the heart of France.* That host was Turkish, but closely allied in origin, language, and habits with the Finno-Ugrian settlers on the Ural. Attila's fame has not come down to us through the partial and suspicious medium of chroniclers and poets of his own race. It is not from Hunnish authorities that we learn the extent of his might : it is from his enemies, from the literature and the legends of the nations whom he afflicted with his arms, that -we draw the unques- tionable evidence of his greatness. Besides the express narratives of Bj'zantine, Latin, and Gothic writers, we have the strongest proof of the stern reality of Attila's conquests in the extent to which he and his Huns have been the themes of the earliest Ger- man and Scandinavian lays. Wild as many of those legends are, they bear concurrent and certain testimony to the awe with which the memory of Attila was regarded by the bold warriors who com- posed and delighted in them. Attila's exploits, and the -wonders of his unearthly steel and magic sword, repeatedly occiir in the Sagas of Norway and Iceland ; and the celebrated Niebelungen Lied, the most ancient of Germanic poetry, is full of them. There Etsel, or Attila, is described as the wearer of twelve mighty crowns, and as jDromising to his bride the lands of thirty kings whom his irresistible sword had subdued. He is, in fact, the hero of the latter part of this remarkable poeih ; and it is at his capital city, Etselenburgh, which evidently corresponds to the modern Buda, that much of its action takes place. When we turn from the legendary to the historic Attila, we see clearly that he was not one of the vulgar herd of barbai-ic con- querors. Consummate military skill may be traced in his cam- paigns; and he relied far less on the brute force of armies for the aggrandizement of his empire, than on the unbounded influence over the affections of friends and the fears of foes which his genius enabled him to acquire. Austerely sober in his private life— severely just on the judgment seat — conspicuous among a nation * See Piltchard's " Eesearches into the Physical Ilistory of Mankind." BATTLE OF CHALONS. 131 of warriors for hardihood, strength, and skill in every martial exercise — grave and deliberate in counsel, but rapid and remorse- less in bxecution, he gave safety and security to all who were under his dominion, while he waged a warfare of extermination against all who opposed or sought to escape from it. He watched the national passions, the prejudices, the creeds, and the su^^erstitions of the varied nations over which he ruled, and of those which he sought to reduce beneath his sway : all these feelings he had the skill to turn to his own account. His own warriors believed him to be the inspired favorite of their deities, and followed him with) fanatic zeal ; his enemies looked on him as the pre-ai^pointed minis-'j ter of heaven's wrath against themselves ; and though they believed not in his creed, their own made them tremble before him. In one of his early campaigns he ajjpeared before his troops with an ancient iron sword in his grasp, which he told them was the god of war whom their ancestors had worshipped. It is certain that the nomadic tribes of Northern Asia, whom Herodotus described under the name of Scythians, from the earliest times worshipped as their god a bare sword. That sword-god was supposed, in Attila's time, to have disappeared from earth ; but the Hunnish king now claimed to have received it by special revelation. It was said that a herdsman, who was tracking in the desert a wounded heifer by the drops of blood, found the mysterious sword standing fixed in the ground, as if it had darted down from heaven. The herdsman bore it to Attila, who thenceforth was believed by the Huns to wield the Spirit of Death in battle, and their seers proph- esied that that sword was to destroy the world. A Roman,* who was on an embassy to the Hunnish camp, recorded in his memoirs Attila's acquisition of this siipernatural weapon, and the immense influence over the minds of the barbaric tribes which its possession gave him. In the title which he assumed we shall see the skill with which he availed himself of the legends and creeds of other nations as well as of his own. He designated himself "Attica, Descendant of the Great Nimrod. Nurtured in Engaddi. By the Grace of God, King of the Huns, the Goths, the Danes, and the Medes. The Dread of the World." Herbert states that Attila is represented on an old medallion with a Teraphim, or a head, on his breast ; and the same writer adds, "We know, from the ' Hamartigenea ' of Prudentius, that Nimrod, with a snaky-haired head, was the object of adoration of the heretical followers of Marcion ; and the same head was the palladium set up by iVntiochus Epiphanes over the gates of Antioch, though it has been called the visage of Charon. The memory of Nimrod was certainly regarded with mystic veneration by many ; and by asserting himself to be the heir of that mighty hunter before the Lord, he vindicated to himself at least the whole Babylonian kingdom. * Prlscus upud Jomanaem. 132 DECISIVE BATTLES. " The singular assertion in his style, that he was nurtured in Engadcli, where he certainly had never been, will be more easily xmderstood on reference to the twelfth chapter of the Book of Kev- elations, concerning the woman clothed with the sun, who was to bring forth in the wilderness 'where she hath a place prepared of God' — a man-child, who was to contend with the dragon having seven heads and ten horns, and riile all nations with a rod of iron. This projDhecy was at that time understood universally by the sin- cere Christians to refer to the birth of Constantine, who was to overwhelm the paganism of the city on the seven hills and it is still so explained ; but it is evident that the heathens must have looked on it in a different light, and regarded it as a foretelling of the birth of that Great One who shoiald master the temporal power of Rome. The assertion, therefore, that he was nurtiired in Engaddi, is a claim to be looked upon as that man-child who was to be brought forth in a place prepared of God in the wilderness. Engaddi means a place of palms and vines in the desert ; it was hard by Zoar, the city of refuge, which was saved in the Vale of Siddim, of Demons, when the rest were destroyed by fire and brimstone from the Lord in heaven, and might, therefore, be especially called a place prepared of God in the wilderness." It is obvious enough why he styled himself "By the Grace of God, King of the Huns and Goths ; " and it seems far from difficult to see why he added the names of the Medes and the Danes. His armies had been engaged in warfare against the Persian kingdom of the Sassanidae, and it is certain* that he meditated the invasion and overthrow of the Medo-Persian power. Probably some of the northern provinces of that kingdom had been compelled to pay him tribiite; and this would account for his styling himself King of the Medes, they being his remotest subjects to the south. From a similar cause, he may have called himself King of the Danes, as his power may well have extended northward as far as the nearest of the Scandinavian nations, and this mention of Medes and Danes as his siibjects would serve at once to indicate the vast ex- tent of his dominion.! The immense territory north of the Danube and Black Sea and eastward of Caucasus, over which Attila ruled, first in conjunction with his brother Bleda, and afterward alone, cannot be very ac- curately defined, biit it must have comprised within it, besides the Huns, many nations of Slavic, Gothic, Teutonic, and Finnish origin. South also of the Danube, the country, from the Elver Sau as far as Novi in Thrace, was a Hunnish province. Svich was the empire of the Huns in a.d. 445 ; a memorable year, in which * See the raiTatlve of Priscus. t In the " Nlebeluntren Lied," the olrt poet who describes the reception of the heroine Chrimhlld by Attila [Etsel], says that Attlla's dominions were so vast, that among his subject-warriors there were Russian, Greek, Wal- laChian, i'ollsh, and even Danish knights; BATTLE OF CTIALOXS. 133 Attila founded Biida on the Danube as liis capital city, and ridded himself of his brother by a crime which seems to have been prom^Jted not only by selfish ambition, but also by a desire of turning to his purpose the legends and forebodings which then were universally spread throughout the Roman empire, and must have been well known to the watchful and ruthless Hun. The year 445 of our era completed the twelfth century from the foundation of Eome, according to the best chronologers. It had always been believed among the Romans that the twelve vultures, which were said to have appeared to Eomulus when he founded the city, signified the time during which the Eoman power should endure. The twelve vultures denoted twelve centuries. This in- terpretation of the vision of the birds of destiny was current among learned Eomans, even when there was yet many of the twelve centuries to run, and while the imperial city was at the zenith of its power. But as the allotted time drew nearer and nearer to its conclusion, and as Eome grew weaker and weaker beneath the blows of barbaric invaders, the terrible omen was more and more talked and thought of ; and in Attila's time, men watched for the momentary extinction of the Eoman state with the last beat of the last vulture's wing. Moreover, among the numer- ous legends connected with the foundation of the city, and the fratricidal death of Eemus, there was one most terrible one, which told that Eomulus did not put his brother to death iu accident or in hasty quarrel, but that ."He slew his gallant twin Witli inexpiable sin," deliberately, and in compliance with the warnings of supernatural power. The shedding of a brother's blood was believed to have been the price at which the founder of Eome had purchased from destiny her twelve centuries of existence.* We may imagine, therefore, with what terror in this, the twelve hundredth year after the foundation of Eome, the inhabitants of the Eoman empire must have heard the tidings 'that the royal brethren, Attila and Bleda, had founded a new capital on the Danube, which was designed to rule over the ancient capital on the Tiber ; and that Attila, like Eomulus, had consecrated the foundations of his new city by murdering his brother ; so that for the new cycle of centuries then about to commence, dominion had been bought from the gloomy spirits of destiny in favor of the Hun by a sacrifice of equal awe and value with that which had formerly obtained it for the Eoman. It is to be remembered that not only the pagans, but also the • See a curious justlflcatlon of AttUa for murdering his brother,- by a zealous Hungailan advocate, in the note to Pray's " Annalcs Hunnorum,' p. 117. The example of Komultis is the main authority quoted. 13-4 DECISIVE BA TTLES. Christians of that age, knew and believed in these legends and omens, however they might differ as to the nature of the super- human agency by which such mysteries had been made known to mankind. And we may observe, with Herbert, a modern learned dignitary of our church, how remarkably this augury was fultilled; for "if to the twelve centuries denoted by the twelve vultures that appeared to Eomulus, we add for the six birds that appeared to Eemus six lustra, or periods of live years each, by which the Komans were wont to number their time, it brings us precisely to the year 476, in which the Eoman empire was finally extinguished by Odoacer." An attempt to assassinate Attila, made, or supposed to have been made, at the instigation of Theodoric the younger, the Em- peror of Constantinople, drew the Hunnish armies, in 445, upon the Eastern empire, and delayed for a time the destined blow against Rome. Probably a more important cause of delay was the revolt of some of the Hunnish tribes to the north of the lilack Sea against Attila, which broke out about this period, and is cursorily mentioned by the Byzantine writers. Attila quelled this revolt, and having thus consolidated his power, and having punished the presumption of the Eastern Eoman emperor by fearful rav- ages of his fairest provinces, Attila, in 450 a.d., prepared to set his vast forces in motion for the conquest of Western Europe . He sought unsuccessfully by diplomatic intrigues to detach the King of the "Visigoths from his alliance with Eome, and he resolved first to crush the power of Theodoric, and then to advance with overwhelming power to trample out the last sparks of the doomed Eoman empire. A strange invitation from a Eoman princess gave him a pretext for the war, and threw an air of chivalric enterprise over his inva- sion. Honoria, sister of Valentinian III., the Emperor of the West, had sent to Attila to ofl"er him her hand and her supposed right to share in the imperial power. This had been discovered by the Eomans, and Honoria had been forthwith closely impris- oned. Attila now pretended to take up arms in behalf of his self- promised bride, and proclaimed that he was about to march to Eome to redress Honoria's wrongs. Ambition and spite against her brother must have been the sole motives that led the lady to woo the royal Hun; for Attila s face and person had all the natural ugliness of his race, and the description given of him by a Byzan- tine embassador must have been well known in the imperial courts. Herbert has well versified the portrait drawn by Priscus of the great enemy of both Byzantium and Eome; "Terriflc was Ills semblance, In no mold Of beautiful propoitlon cast ; his limbs NotMng exalted, but with sinews braced Of Chalybasan temper, agile, lithe. And swifter than the roe ; lus ample chest BATTLE OF CHALONS. 135 Was overbrow'd by a gigantic head, With eyes keen, deeply sunk, and small, that gleam -4 Strangely in wrath as though some spirit unclean Within thai corporal tenement installd Look'd from its windows, but with temper'd Are Beam'd mildly on the miresistiug. Thin His beard and hoary: his flat nostrils crown'd A cicatrized, swart visage ; but, withal. That Questioiiable shape such glory wore That mortals quail d beneath liim." Two chiefs of the Franks, who were then settled on the Lower Ehine, were at this period engaged in a iewd with each other, and while one of them appealed to the Komans for aid, the other in- voked the assistance and protection of the Huns. Attila thus ob- tained an ally whose co-operation secured for him the passage of the Bhine, and it was this circumstance which catised hiui to take a northward route from Hungary for his attack upon Gaul. The muster of the Hunnish hosts was swollen by warriors of every tribe that thej'^ had subjugated; nor is there any reason to suspect the old chroniclers of wilful exaggeration in estimating Attila's army at seven hundred thousand strong. Having crossed the Rhine probably a little below Coblentz, he defeatLcl the King of the Burgundians, who endeavored to bar his i^rogress. He then divided his vast forces into two armies, one of which marched northwest upon Tongres and Arras, and the other cities of that part of France, while the main body, under Attila himself, ad- vanced up the Moselle, and destroyed Besaugon and other towns in the country of the Burgundians. One of the latest and best biographers of Attila* well observes, that, "having thus conqitered the eastern i^art of France, Attila prepared for an invasion of the West Gothic territories beyond the Loire. He marched upon Or- leans, where he intended to force the passage of that river, and only a little attention is requisite to enable lis to perceive that he proceeded on a systematic plan: he had his right wing on the north for the protection of his Frank allies; his left wing on the south for the pui-pose of i^reventmg the Burgundians from rally- ing, and of menacing the passes of the Aljjs fromltaly; and he led his center toward the chief object of the campaign— the con- quest of Orleans, and an easy passage into the West Gothic do- minion. The whole plan is very like that of the allied powers in 1814, with this difference, that their left wing entered France through the defiles of the Jura, in the direction of Lyons, and that tlie military object of the campaign was the capture of Paris." It was not until the year 451 that the Huns commenced the siege of Orleans ; and during their campaign in Eastern Gaul, the Ilo- man general Aetius had strenuously exerted himself in collecting and organizing such an army as might, when united to the soldiery * Biographical Dictionary commenced by the Useful Knowledge Society In 1S44. 136 DECISIVE BATTLES. of tho Yisigotlis, be fit to face the Huns in the field. He enlisted every subject of the lloman empire whom i^atriotism, courage, or compulsion could collect beneath the standards ; and round these troops, which assumed the once proud title of the legions of liome, he arrayed the large forces of barbaric auxiliaries, whom pay, per- suasion, or the general hate and dread of the Huns brought' to the camp of the last of the lloman generals. King Theodoric exerted himself with equal energy. Orleans resisted lier besiegers bravely as in after times. The passage of the Loire was skilfully defended against the Huns ; and Aetius and Theodoric, after miich maneu- vering and difficulty, effected a junction of their armies to the soath of that important river. On the advance of the allies upon Orleans, Attila instantly broke up the siege of that city, and retreated toward the Marne. He did not choose to risk a decisive battle with only the central corps of his army against the combined power of his enemies, and he there- fore fell back upon his base of operations, calling in his wings from Arras and Besangon, and concentrating the whole of the Hunnish forces on the vast plains of Chalons-sur-Marne. A glance at the map will show how scientifically this place was chosen by the Hunnish general as the i^oint for his scattered forces to converge upon ; and the nature of the ground was eminently favorable for the operations of cavalry, the arm in which Attila's strength pecu- liarly lay. It was during the retreat from Orleans that a Christian hermit is reported to have approached the Hunnish king, and said to him, "Thou art the Scourge of God for the chastisement of the Chris- tians." Attila instantly assumed this new title of terror, which thenceforth became the appellation by which he was most widely and most fearfully known. The confederate armies of Eomans and Visigoths at lastmet their great adversary face to face on the ample battle-ground of the Chalons plains. Aetius commanded on the right of the allies ; King Theodoric on the left ; and Sangipan, king of the Alans, whose fidelity was suspected, was placed jiurposely in the center, rnd in the very front of the battle. Attila commanded his center in person, at the head of his own countrymen, while the Ostro- goths, the Gepidte, and the other subject allies of the Huns ware drawn up on the wings. Some maneuvering api^ears to have occurred before the engagement, in which Aetius had the advan- tage, inasmuch as he succeeded in occiipying a sloping hill, which commanded the left flank of the Huns. Attila saw the imjjortance of the position taken by Aetius on the high ground, and commenced the battle by a furious attack on this part of the Eoman line, in which he seems to have detached some of his best troops from his canter to aid his left. The Eomans, having the advantage of the ground, repulsed the Huns, and while the allies gained this advan- tage on the right, their left, under King Theodoric, assailed the BATTLE OF CHALONS. Wi Ostrogoths, who formed the right of Attila's army. The gallant king was himself struck down by a javelin, as he rode onward at the head of his men ; and his own cavalry charging over him, trampled him to death in the confusion. But the Visigoths, infu- riated, not dispirited, by their monarch's full, roiited the enemies opposed to them, and then wheeled upon the flank oftheHunnish tenter, which had been engaged in a sanguinary and indecisive Contest with the Alans. ' In this peril Attila made his center fall back npon his camp ; and when the shelter of its entrenchments and wagons had once been gained, the Hunnish archers repulsed, without difficulty, the charges of the vengeful Gothic cavalry. Aetius had not pressed the advantage which he gained on his side of the field, and when night fell over the wild scene of havoc, Attila's left was still unde- feated, biit his right had been routed, and his center forced back upon his cami>. Expecting an assault on the morrow, Attila stationed his best archers in front of the cars and -wagons, which were drawn iijo as a fortification along his lines, and made every preparation for a desperate resistance. But the "Scourge of God" resolved that no man should boast of the honor of having either captured or slain him, and he caused to be raised in the center of his encampment a huge pyramid of the wooden saddles of his cavalry : round it he heaped the spoils and the wealth that he had won ; on it he sta- tioned his wives who had accompanied him in the campaign ; and on the summit Attila placed himself, ready to perish in the flames, and balk the victorious foe of their choicest booty, should they succeed in storming his defenses. But when the morning broke and revealed the extent of the car- nage with which the plains were heaped for miles, the successful allies saw also and respected the resoluteattitude of their antagonist. Neither were any measures taken to blockade him in his camp, and so to extoi-t by ftxmine that submission which it was too plainly perilous to enforce with the sword. * Attila was allowed to march back the remnants of his army without molestation, and even with the semblance of succes.s. It is probable that the crafty Aetius was tinwilling to be too victorious. He dreaded the glory which his allies the Visigoths had acquired, and feared that Eome might find a second Aleric m Prince Thorismund, who had signalized himself in the battle, and had been chosen on the field to succeed his father Theodoric. He persuaded the young king to return at once to his capital, and thus relieved himself at the same time of the presence of a danger- ous friend, as well as of a formidable though beaten foe. Attila's attacks on the Western empire were soon renewed, biit never with such peril to the civilized world as had menaced it before his defeat at Chalons ; and on his death two years after that battle, the vast empire which his genius had founded was soon dis- 138 DECISIVE BATTLES. severed by the successful revolts of the subject nations. The name of the Huns ceased ftr some centuries to insjaire terror in Western Europe, and their ascendency passed away with the life of the great king by whom it had been so fearfully augmented.* {Synopsis op Events between the Battle of Chalons, a.d. 451, and THE Battle of Toues, a.d. 732. A.D. 476. The Eoman empire of the West extinguished bj Odoaeer. 481. Establishment of the French monarchy in Gaul by Olovis. 455-582. The Saxons, Angles, and Frisians conquer Britian, ex- cejit the northern parts and the districts along the west coast. The German conquerers found eight independent kingdoms. 533-5G8. The generals of Justinian, the Emperor of Constanti- nople, conquer Italy and North Africa ; and these countries are foy a short time annexed to the Eoman empire of the East. 568-570. The Lombards conquer great part of Italy. 570-627. The wars between the emperors of Constantinople and the kings of Persia are actively continued. 622. The Mohammedan era of the Hegira. Mohammed is driven from Mecca, and is received as Prince of Medina. 629-632. Mohammed conquers Arabia. 632-651. The Mohammedan Arabs invade and conquer Persia. 632-709. They attack the Koman empire of the East. They con- quer Syria, Egypt and Africa. 709-713. They cross the Straits of Gibraltar, and invade and conquer Spain. CHAPTER VII. THE battle of TOUKS, A.D. 732. The events that rescuecl our ancestors of Britain and oiu* neighbors of Gaul fi-om the civil and religious yoli;e oi' the Koran.— Gibbon. The broad tract of campaign country which intervenes between * If I seem to have given fewer of the details of the battle itself than its Importance would warrant, my excuse must be, that (-iibbon has enriched our language with a description of it. too long lor quotation and too splendid for rivalry. I have not, however, taken altogether the same \1ew ol it that he has. The notes to Mr. Herberts poem of •• Attila'' bring together nearly all the authorities on the subject. BATTLE OF TOURS 139 the cities of Poictiers and Tours is principally composed of a suc- cession of rich pasture lands, which are traversed and tertilized by the Cher, the Creuse, the Vienna, the Claine, the Indre, and other tributaries of the Eiver Loire. Here and there the ground swells into picturesque eminences, and occasionally a belt of forest land, a brown heath, or a clustering series of vineyards breaks the monotony of the widespread meadows ; but the general character of the land is that of a grassy plain, and it seems naturally adapted for the evohitions of numerous armies, especially of those vast bodies of cavalry which principally decided the fate of nations during the centuries that followed the downfall of Kome, and pre. ceded the consolidation of the modern European powers. This region has been signalized by more than one memorable conflict ; but it is principally interesting to the historian by having been the scene of the great victory won by Charles Martel over the Saracens, a.d. 732, which gave a decisive check to the career of Arab conquest in Western Europe, rescued Christendom from Islam, preserved the relics of ancient and the germs of modern civilization, and re-established the old superiority of Indo-European over the Semitic family of mankind. Sismondi and Michelet have underrated the enduring interest of this great Appeal of Battle between the champions of the Crescent and the Cross. But, if French writers have slighted the exploits of their national hero, the Saracenic trophies of Charles Martel have had full justice done to them by English and German historians. Gibbon devotes several pages of his great work* to the narrative of the battle of Tours, and the consideration of the consequences which probably would have resulted if Abderrahman's enter- prise had not been crushed by the Prankish chief. Schlegelf speaks of this "mighty victory" in terms of fervent gratitude, and tells how "the arm of Charles Martel saved and delivered the Christian nations of the West from the deadly grasp of all-destroy- ing Islam ;" and Ranket points out, as "one of the most important epochs in the history of the world, the commencement of the eighth century, when on one side Mohammedanism threatened to over- spread Italy and Gaul, and on the other the ancient idolatry of Saxony and Priesland once more forced its way across the Ehine. In this peril of Christian institutions, a youthful prince of Germanic race, Karl Martell, arose as their champion, maintained them with all the energy which the necessity for self-defense calls forth, and finally extended them into new regions." * Vol. vll., p. 17, et seq. Gibbon's sneering remarlc. that if the Saracen conquests had not tlien been cliecked, "perliaps tlie interpretation of the Koran would now be taught in the schools of Oxford, and her pulpits might demonstrate to a circumcised people the sancity and truth of the revelation ol Mohammed, has almost an air of regret. t " I^hllospUv of History," p. 331. t "History of the Keformatlon in Germany," vol. 1., p. 5, 140 DECISIVE BATTLES. Arnold* ranks the victory of Charles Martel even higher than the victory of Aruiiiiius, " among those signal deliverances which have atiected for centuries the bai^piness of ruankind." In fact, the more we test its importance, the higher we shall be led to estimate it ; and, though all authentic details which we possess of its cir- cumstances and its heroes are but meager, we can trace enough of its general character to make us watch with deep interest this encounter between the rival conquerors of the decaying Roman empire. That old classic world, the history of which occupies so large a portion of our early studies, lay, in the eighth century of our era, utterly inanimate and overthrown. On the north the German, on the south the Arab, was rending away its provinces. At last the spoilers encountered one another, each striving for the full mastery of the prey. Their conflict brought back upon the memory of Gibbon the old Homeric simile, where the strife of Hector and Patrochis over the dead body of Cebriones iscomjiared to the combat of two lions, that in their hate and hunger iight together on the mountain tops over the carcass of a slaughtered stag ; and the reluctant yielding of the Saracen power to the supe- rior might of the Northern warriors might not inaptly recall those other lines of the same book of the Iliad, where the downfall of Patroelus beneath Hector is liliened to the forced yielding of the panting and exhaustad wild boar, that had long and furiously fought with a superior beast of prey for the possession of the scanty fountain among the rocks at which each burned to drink, f Although three centuries had passed away since the Germanic conquerors of Rome had crossed the Rhine, never to repass that frontier stream, no settled system of institutions or government, no amalgamation of the various races into one people, no uniformity of language or habits, had been established in the country at the time when Charles Martel was called to repel the menacing tide of Saracenic invasion from the south. Gaul was not yet France. In that, as in other provinces of the Roman empire of the West, the dominion of the Caesars had been shattered as early as the fifth century, and barbaric kingdoms and principalities had promptly * " History of the later Roman Commonwealth,'' vol. ii., p. 31T. f /leovO'' GO?, 8?^ptvOi}ri^v, "^flr opsoi j{opvq»j6i Ttepi Hraf.thvrj? eXag^oto, "^AjiKpo) TteivdovtE, iieXa q^poysovTE ndxE6hov. II., Tc'. 756. Tl? 5' 0T£ 6vv djidi-iavTcx Xeoov el5n]6aTO idpuxi, T(h T opEu? :f{opvqj(f6i jueya cppovEovrs ndj(Et6bov, UiSaxoi dn(p ^oTdyti?- ibiXovdi 8e tiiehev diJ-cpao • UoXXd 8e T ddOuaivovra Aeoov edduadds Bifjcpiv. /7., ;r\823. BATTLE OF TOURS. lil arisen on the niins of the Eoman power. But few of these had any permanency, ami none of them consolidated the rest, or any con- siderable number of the rest, into one coherent and organized civil and political societj-. The great bulk of the iiopulation still con- sisted of the conquered i:)rovincials, that is to say, Komanized Celts, of a Gallic race which had long been under the dominion of the Cfesars, and had acquired, together with no slight infusion of Eoman blood, the language, the literature, the laws and the civilization of Latlum. Among these, and doiuinant over them, roved or dwelt the German victors ; some retaining nearly all the rude independence of their primitive national character, others softened and disciplined by the aspect and contact of the manners and institutions of civil- ized life ; for it is to be borne in mind that the Eoman empire in the West was not crushed by any sudden avalanche or barbaric invasion. The Germanic conquerors came across the Rhine, not in enormous hosts, but in bands of a few thousand wamors at a time. The conquest of a province was the result of aiJ infinite series of partial local invasions, carried on by little armies of this description. The victorious warriors either retired with their booty, or fixed themselves in the invaded district, taking care to keep suffi- ciently concentrated for military purposes, and ever ready for some fresh foray, either against a rival Teutonic band, or some hitherto unassailed city of the provincials. Gradually, however, the con- querors acquired a desire for permanent landed possessions. They lost somewhat of the restless thirst for novelty and adventure which had first made them throng beneath the banner of the boldest cap- tains of their tribe, and leave their native forests for a roving mili- tary life on the left bank of the Rhine. They were converted to the Christian faith, and gave up with their old creed much of the coarse ferocity which must have been fostered in the spirits of the ancient warriors of the North by a mythology which promised, as the reward of the brave on earth, an eternal cycle of fighting and drunkenness in heaven. But, although their conversion and other civilizing influences operated powerfully u^Don the Germans in Gaiil, and although the Franks (who were originally a confederation of the Teutonic tribes that dwelt between the Rhine, the Maine, and the Weser) estab- lished a decisive superiority over the other conquerors of the prov- ince, as well as over the conquered provincials, the country long remained a chaos of uncombined and shifting elements. The early princes of the Merovingian dynasty were generally occuijied in wars against other princes of their house, occasioned by the fre- quent subdivisions of the Frank monarchy ; and the ablest and best of them had found all their energies tasked to the utmost to defend the barrier of the Rhine against the pagan Germans who strove to pass the river and gather their share of the spoils of the empire. The conquests which the Saracens effected over the southern and eastern provinces of Rome were far mor rapid than those achieved U2 DECISIVE BATTLES. by the Grermans in tho north, and the new organizations of society which the Moslems introduced were summarily and uniformly enforced. Exactly a century passed between the death of Mohammed and the date of the battle of Tours. During that century the followers of the Prophet had torn away half the lioman emijire ; and besides their conquests over Persia, the Saracens had overrun Syria, Egypt, Africa, and Spain, in an uncheckered and apparently irresistible career of victory. Nor, at the commencement of the eighth century of our era, was the Mohammedan world divided against itself, as it 'subsequently became. All these vast regions obeyed the caliph ; throughout them all, from the Pyrenees to the Oxus, the name of Mohammed was invoked in prayer, and the Koran revered as the book of the law. It was under one of their ablest and most renowned commanders, with a veteran army, and with every apx^arent advantage of time, place, and circumstance, that the Arabs made their great effort at the contjuest of Europe north of the Pyrenees. The victorious Moslem soldiery in Spain, "A countless multitude ; Syrian, Moor, Saracen, Greek renegade, Persian, and Copt, and Tartar, in one bond Of erring faitli conjoined— strong in tne youth And heat of zeal— a dreadful brotherhood," were eager for the plunder of more Christian cities and shrines, and full of fanatic confidence in the invincibility of their arms. Nor were the chiefs Of victory less assured, by long success Elate, and proud of that o'erwhelming strength Which, surely they heheved, as it had rolled Thus far uncheckxl, would roll victorious on, Till, like the Orient, the subjected West Should bow in reverence at Mohammed's name; And pilgrims from remotest Arctic shores Tread with religious feet the burning sands Of Araby and Mecca's stony soil. SoUTHEY's Roderick. It is not only by the modern Christian poet, but by the old Arabian chroniclers p.lso, that these feelings of ambition and arro- gance are attributed to the Moslems who had overthrown the Visigoth power in Spain. And their eager expectations of new wars were excited to the utmost on the reappointment by the caliph of Abderrahman Ibn Abdillah Alghafeki to the government of that country, a.d. 729, which restored them a general who had signalized his skill and prowess during the conquests of Africa and Spain, whose ready valor and generosity had made him the idol of the troops, who had already been engaged in several expe- ditions into Gaul, so as to be well acquainted with the national .character and tactics of the franks, and who was known to thirst, BATTLE OF TOUES. 143 like a good Moslem, for revenge for the slanghter of some detacli- ments of the True Believers, 'vsliich had been cut off on the north of the Pyrenees. In addition to his cardinal military virtues, Abderrahman is described by the Arab writers as a model of integrity and justice. The Urst two years of his second administration in Spain were oc- cupied in severe reforms of the abuses which under his prede- cessors had crept into the system of government, and in extensive preparations for his intended conqiaest in Gaul. Besides the troops which he collected from his province, he obtained from Africa a large body of chosen Berber cavalry, officered by Arabs of proved skill and valor; and in the summer of 732, he crossed the Pyrenees at the head of an army which some Arab writers rate at eighty thousand strong, while some of the Christian chroniclers swell its numbers to many hundreds of thousands more. Probably the Arab account diminishes, but of the two keeps nearer to the truth. It was from this formidable host, after Eudes, the Count of Aquitaine, had vainly striven to check it, after manj^ strong cities had fallen before it, and half the land had Ijeen overrun, that Gai;l and Christendom were at last rescued by the strong arm of Prince Charles, who acquired a surname,* like that of the war- god of his forefathers' creed, from the might with which he broke and shattered his enemies in the battle. The Merovingian kings had sunk into absolute insignificance, and had become mere puppets of royalty before the eighth cen- tury. Charles Martel, like his father, Pepin Heristal, was Duke of the Australian Pranks, the bravest and most thoroughly Ger- manic part of the nation, and exercised, in the name of the titular king, what little paramount authority the turbulent minor rulers of districts and towns could be persuaded or compelled to acknowl- edge. Engaged with his national competitors in periJetual con- flicts for power, and in more serious struggles for safety against the fierce tribes of the unconverted Frisians, Bavarians, Saxons, and Thuringians, who at that epoch assailed with peculiar ferocity the Christianized Germans on the left bank of the Rhine, Charles Martel added experienced skill to his natural courage, and he had also formed a militia of veterans among the Franks. Hallam has thrown out a doubt whether, in our admiration of his victory at Tours, we do not judge a little too much by the event, and whether there was not rashness in his risking the fate of France on the re-' suit of a general battle with the invaders. But when we remember that Charles had no standing armj', and the independent spirit of the Frank warriors wlio followed his standard, it seems most probable that it was not in his jjower to adopt the cautious j)olicy of watching the invaders, and wearing out their strength by delay. * Martf-1— Tlin nammer. See the Scandanavian Sagas for an accomitof the lavorite weapon of TUor. 144 DECISIVE I] A TTLES. So clven,(1ful and so ^videspread were the ruvfiges of the Saracenic light cavaliy throughout Gaul, that it must have been impossible to restrain for any length of time the indignant ardor of the Franks. And, even if Charles could have persuaded his men to look tamely on while the Arabs stormed more towns and desolated more districts, he could not have kept an army together when the usual jieriod of a military exjiedition had expired. If, indeed, the Arab account of the disorganization of the Moslem forces be cor- rect, the battle was as well timed on the part of Charles, as it was, beyond all question, well foiight. The monkish chroniclers, from whom we are obliged to glean a narrative of this memorable cami^aign, bear full evidence to the terror which the Saracen invasion inspired, and to the agony of that great struggle. The Saracens, say they, and their king, who was called Abdirames, came out of Spain, with all their wives, and their children, and their substance, in such great multitudes that no man could reckon or estimate them. They brought with them all tlieir armor, and whatever they had, asif they were thenceforth always to dwell in France.* " Then Abderrahman, seeing the land filled with the multitude of his army, pierces through the mountains, tramples over rough and level ground, plunders far into the coiintry of the Franks, and smites all with the sword, insomuch that when Eudo came to bat- tle with him at the Eiver Garonne, and tied before him, God alone knows the number of the slain. Then Abderrahman pursued after Count Eudo, and while he strives to spoil and burn the holy shrine at Toiirs, he encounters the chief of the Austrasian Franks, Charles, a man of war from his youth up, to whom Eudo had sent warning. There for nearly seven clays they strive intensely, and at last they set themselves in battle array, and the nations of the North standing firm as a wall, and impenetrable as a zone of ice, utterly slay the Arabs with the edge of the sword, "j The European writers all concur in speaking of the fall of Abderrahman as one of the principal causes of the defeat of the Arabs; who, according to one writer, alter finding that their leader was slain, dispersed in the night, to the agreeable surjirise of the Christians, who expected the next morning to see them issue from their tents and renew the combat. One monkish chronicler puts the loss of the Arabs at 375,000 men, while he says that only 1007 Christians fell; a disparity of loss which he feels bound to account for by a special interposition of I'rovidence. I have translated * ' ' Lors issh-ent cVEspalgne li Sarrazlns, et un leur Rol qui avoit nom Ab- dirames, et out leur lames et leur enlans et toute leur substance en si grand plenle que nus ne le prevoit nombrer ne estimer : tout lem- iiarnois et quan- ques il avoient amenement avec entz, aussi comme si ils deussent toujours mes habiter en France.'' t lunc AbduTabman. multitudine sui exercltus repletam prosplciena teiTam, etc.— Hcript. Gett. Franc , p. TSS. BATTLE OF TOURS. 145 above some of the most spirited passages of these writers ; but it is impossible to collect from them any thing like a full or authen- tic description of the great battle itself, or of the operations which preceded and followed it. Though, however, we may have cause to regret the meagerness and doubtful character of these narratives, we have the great ad- vantage of being able to compare the nccounts given in Abderrah- man's exi^edition by the national writeis of each side. This is a benefit which the inquirer into antiquity so seldom can obtain, that the fact of possessing it, in the case of the battle of Tours, ('makes us think the historical testimony respecting that great event more certain and satisfactory than is the case in many other instances, where we possess abundant details respecting military exploits, but where those details come to us from the annalist of one nation only, and where we have, consequently, no safeguard against the exaggerations, the distortions, and the fictions which national vanity has so often put forth in the garb and under the title of history. The Arabian writers who recorded the conquests and wars of their countrymen in Sjjain have narrated also the ex- pedition into Gaul of their great emir, and his defeat and death near Tours, in battle with the host of the Franks under King Caldus, the name into which they metamorphose Charles Martel.* They tell us how there was a war between the count of the Frankish frontier and the Moslems, and how the count gathered together all his people, and fought for a time with doubtful suc- cess. " But,'' say the Arabian chroniclers, "Abderrahman di'ove them back; and the men of Abderrahman were jouiied up in spirit by their repeated successes, and they were full of trust in the valor and the practice in war of their emir. So the Moslems smote their enemies, and passed the River Garonne, and laid waste the country, and took captives withoiit number. And that army went throiigh all idaces like a desolating storm. Prosperity made these warriors insatiable. At the passage of the river, Abderrahman overthrew the count, and the count retired into his stronghold, but the Moslems fought against it, and entered it by force and slew the count; for every thing gave way to their cimeters, which were the robbers of lives. All the nations of the Franks trembled at^that terrible army, and they betook them to their king Caldus, and told him of the havoc made by the Moskm horsemen, and how they rode at their will through all the land of Karbonne, Toulouse, and Boi'deaux, and they told the king of the death of * The Arabian chronicles were compiled and translated Into Spanish by Don Jose Antonio (onde, In Ms '• iiisloria de la Domlnaclon de los Arabos en Ksi)ana," publlsbed at Madild in IS'io. coiide's plan, which I have endeavored to follow, was to preserve both the t^tyio and spirit of his Orl-ntal authorities, so that we find In his pages a genuine isaraconlo nar- rative of the wars in Western Em'ope between the >iohammedans and the thrlstians. 146 DECISIVE BATTIES. their coiiBi Then the king hade them he of good cheer, and ofl'ered to aid them. And in the lllth year* he mounted his horse, and he took with him a host that could not be numbered, and went against the Moslems. And he came upon them at the great city of Tours. And Abderrahman and other prudent cava- liers saw the disorder of the Sloslem troops, who were loaded with spoil; but they did not venture to disjjlease the soldiers by order- ing them to abandon every thing except their arms and war-horses. And Abderrahman trusted in the valor of his soldiers, and in the good fortune which had ever attended him. But (the Arab writer remarks) such defect of discii^line always is fatal to armies. So Abderrahman and his host attacked Tours to gain still more spoil, and they fought against it so fiercely that they stormed the city almost before the eyes of the army that came to save it; and the fury and the cruelty of the Moslems toward the inhabitants of the city was like the fury and cruelty of raging tigers. It was manifest," adds the Arab, "that God's chastisement was sure to follow siach excesses; and Fortune thereui^on turned her back upon the Mos- lems. 'Near the Eiver Owar.f the two great hosts of the two languages and the two creeds were set in array against each other. The hearts of Abderrahman, his captains, and his men, were filled with wrath and i^ride, and they were the first to begin the fight. The Moslem horsemen dashed fierce and frequent forward against the battalions of the Franks, who resisted manfully, and many fell dead on either side until the going down of the sun. Night parted the two armies ; but in the gray of the morning the Mos- lems returned to the battle. Their cavaliers had soon hewn their way into the center of the Christian host. Biit many of the Mos- lems were fearful for the safety of the spoil which they had stored in their tents, and a false cry arose in their ranks that some of the enemy were plundering the camp ; whereupon several sqiradrons of the Moslem horsemen rode off to protect their tents. But it seemed as if they fled ; and all the host was troubled. And while Abderrahman strove to check their tumult, and to lead them back to battle, the warriors of the Franks came around him, and he was pierced through with many spears, so that he died. Then all the host fled before the enemy, and many died in the flight. This deadly defeat of the Moslems, and the loss of the great leader and good cavalier Abderrahman, took place in the hundred and fif- teenth j'ear." It would be difficult to expect from an adversary a more explicit confession of having been thoroughly vanquished than the Arabs here accord to the Europeans. The points on which their narra- tive differs from those of the Christians — as to how many days the conflict lasted, whether the assailed city was actually rescued or * Of tlie Ilegira. t Probably the Loire. SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 147 not, and the like — are of little moment compared with the admit- ted great fact that there was a decisive trial of strength between Frank and Saracen, in which the former conquered. The endur- ing importance of the battle of Tours in the eyes of the Moslems is attested not only by the expressions of " the deadly battle " and "the disgraceful overthrow " which their writers constantly em- ploy when referring to it, but also l»y the fact that no more serious attem^Dts at conquest beyond the Pyrenees were made by the Saracens. Charles Martel, and his son and grandson, were left at leisure to consolidate and extend their power. The new Christian Eoman empire of the West, which the genius of Charlemagne founded, and throughout which his iron will imposed peace on the old anarchy of creeds and races, did not indeed retain its in- tegrity after its great ruler's death. Fresh troubles came over Europe : but Christendom, though disunited was safe. The prog- ress of civilization, and the development of the nationalities and governments of modern Europe, from that time forth went forward in not uninterru^jted, but ultimately certain career. Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Totjes, a.d. 732, AND THE Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1066. A.D. 7G8-814. Eeign of Charlemagne. This monarch has justly been termed the principal regenerator of Western Europe, after the destruction of the Eoman Empire. The early death of his brother Carloman left him sole master of the dominion of the Franks, which, by a succession of victorious M'ars, he enlarged into the new empire of the West. He conquered the Lombards, and re-established the pope at Fiome, who, in return, acknowledged Charles as suzerain of Italy. And in the year 800, Leo HI., in the name of the Roman people, solemnly crowned Charlemagne at Eome as emperor of the Roman empire of the West. In Spain, Charlemagne ruled the country between the Pyrenees and the Ebro ; but his most important conquests were eifected on the east- ern side of his original kingdom, over the Sclavonians of Bohemia, the Avars of Pannonia, and over the previously uncivilized Ger- man tribes, who had remained in their fatherland. The old Saxons were bis most obstinate antagonists, and his wars with them lasted for thirty years. Under him the greater part of Ger- many was compulsorily civilized and converted from paganism to Christianity. His empii-e extended eastward as far as the Elbe, the Saale, the Bohemian IMountains, and a line drawn from thence cross- ing the Danube above Vienna, and prolonged to the Gulf of Istria.* * Hallam-B " Middle Ages." 148 DECISIVE BATTLES. ThrongTiont this vast assemblage of provinces, Charlemagne estab- lished an organized and firm government. But it is not as a mere conqueror that he demands admiration. "In a life restlessly ac- tive, we see him reforming the coinage and establishing the legal divisions of money ; gathering about him the learned of every country ; founding schools and collecting libraries ; interferring, "with the air of a king, in religous controversies ; attempting, for the sake of commerce, the magnificent enterprise of uniting the Rhine and the Danube, and meditating to mold the discordant code of Roman and barbarian laws into a uniform system."* 814-888. Repeated jDartitions of the empire and civil wars be- tween Charlemagne's descendants. Ultimately the kingdom of France is finally separated from Germany and Italy. In 962, Otho the Great of Germany revives the imjierial dignity. 827. Egbert, king of Wessex, acquires the supremacy over the other Anglo-Saxon kingdoms. 832. The first Danish squadron attacks part of the English coast. The Danes, or Northmen, had begun their ravages in France a few years earlier. For two centuries Scandinavia sends out fleet after fleet of sea-rovers, who desolate all the western king- doms of Europe, and in many cases effect permanent conquests. 871-900. Reign of Alfred in England. After a long and varied struggle, he rescues England from the Danish invaders. 911. The French king cedes Neustria to Hrolf the Northman. Hrolf (or Duke RoUo, as he thenceforth was termed ) and his army of Scandinavian warriors become the ruling class of the population of the province, which is called after them, Normandy. 1016. Four knights from Normandy, who had been on a pil- grimage to the Holy Land, while retvirning through Italy, head the jDeople of Salerno in repelling an attack of a band of Saracen cor- sairs. In the next year many adventurers from Normandy settle in Italy, where they conquer Apulia (1040), and afterward (1060) Sicily. 10i7. Canute, king of Denmark, becomes king of England. On the death of the last of his sons, in 1041, the Saxon line is re- Btored, and Edward the Confessor (who had been bred in the court of the Duke of Normandy) is called by the English to the throne of this island, as the representative of the house of Cerdic. 1035. Duke Robert of Normandy dies on his return from a pil- grimage to the Holy Land, and his son William ( afterward the conqueror of England) succeeds to the dukedom of Normandy. * Hallam, ut sunra. BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 149 CHAPTER Vni. THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS, A.D. 1060. Eis vos la Batallle assemblee,- Dune encore est grant renomee. Roman de liuu, 13,1S3. Arletta's pretty feet twinkling in tlie bi'ook made her the mother of William the Conqueror. Had she not thus fascinated Duke Eobert the Liberal of Normandy, Harold -would not have fallen at Hastings, no Anglo-Norman dynasty would have arisen, no British .empire. The retiection is Sir Francis Palgrave's;* and it is em- phaticly true. If any one should write a history of " Decisive loves that have materially influenced the drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes," the daughter of the tanner of Falaise would deserve a conspicuous place in its pages. But it is her son, the victor of Hastings, who is now the object of our attention ; and no one who appreciates the influence of England and her empire upon the destinies of the world, will ever rank that victory as one of secondary importance. It is true that in the last century some writers of eminence on our history and laws mentioned the Norman Conquest in terms from which it might be supposed that the battle of Hastings led to little more than the substitution of one royal family on the throne of this country and to the garbling and changing of some of our laws through the "cunning of the Norman lawyers." But, at least since the apj^earance of the work of Augustin Thierry on the Nor- man Conquest, these forensic fallacies have been exploded. Thi- erry made his readers keenly appreciate the magnitude of that political and social catastrophe. He depicted in vivid colors the atrocious cruelties of the conquerors, and the sweei^ing and endur- ing innovations that they wrought, involving the overthrow of the ancient constitution, as well as of the last of the Saxon kings. In his pages we see new tribunals and tenures superseding the old ones, new divisions of race and class introduced, whole districts devastated to gratify the vengeance or the caprice of the new tyrant, the greater part of the lands of the English confiscated and divided among aliens, the very name of Englishmen turned into a reproach,' the English language rejected as servile and barbarous, and all the high places in church and state for i;pward of a centurj' lillod exclusively by men of foreign race. No less true than eloquent is Thierry's summing up of the social effects of the Norman Conquest on the generation that witnessed it, and on many of their successors. He tells his reader that "if * " History of Normandy and England," vol. i., p. 526. 150 DECISIVE BATTLES. he wonld form a just idea of England conquered by "William of Normandy, be must figtire to himself — not a mere change of polit- ical rule — not the triumph of one candidate over another candidate — of the man of one party over the man of another party, but the intrusion of one people into the bosom of another people — the violent placing of one society over another society which it came to destroy, and the scattered fragments of which it retained only as personal property, or (to use the words of an old act) as 'the clothing of the soil ;' he must not picture to himself on the other hand, William, a king and a despot — on the other, subjects of ^William's, high and low, rich and poor, all inhabiting England, and consequently all English ; he must imagine two nations, one of which William is a member and the chief — two nations which (if the term must be used) were both subject to William, but as applied to which the word has quite different senses, meaning, in the one case, subordinate — in the other, subjugated. He must consider that there are two countries, two soils, included in the same geograph- ical circumference — that of the Normans, rich and free ; that of the Saxons, poor and serving, vexed hy rent and ioilage: the former full of spacious mansions, and walled and moated castles ; the latter scattered over with hvits and straw, and ruined hovels : that peopled with the happy and the idle — with men of the army and of the court — with knights and nobles ; this with men of pain and labor — with farmers and artisans : on the one side, luxury and insolence; on the other, misery and envy — not the envy of the poor at the sight of opulence they cannot reach, but the envy of the despoiled when in the presence of the despoilers." Perhaps the effect of Thierry's work has been to cast into the shade the ultimate good effects on England of the Norman Conquest. Yet these are as undeniable as are the miseries which that conquest inflicted on our Saxon ancestors from the time of the battle of Hastings to the time of the signing of the Great Charter at Eunny- mede. That last is the true epoch of English nationality ; it is the epoch when Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon ceased to keep aloof from each other — the one in haughty scorn, the other in sullen abhorrence ; and when all the free men of the land, whether ba- rons, knights, yoemen, or burghers, combined to lay the foundations of English freedom. I Our Norman barons were the chiefs of that primary constitutional movement ; those "iron barons," whom Chatham has so nobly eulogized. This alone shoiild make England remember her obli- gations to the Norman Conquest, which planted far and wide, as a dominant class in her land, a martial nobility of the bravest and most energetic race that ever existed. It may sound jjarodoxical, but it is in reality no exaggeration to say, with Guizot,* that England's liberties are owing to her having * " Essals sur I'Hlstoire de France," p, 278, etseq. BATTLE OF IIASTIXGS. 151 been conquered by the Normans. It is true that the Saxon insti- tutions w^e the primitive cradle of English liberty, but by their own intrinsic force they could never have founded the enduring free English Constitution. It was the Conquest that infused into them a new virtue, and the political liberties of England arose from the situation in which the Anglo-Saxon and the Anglo-Norman popu- lations and laws found themselves placed relatively to each other in this island. The state of England under her last Anglo-Saxon kings closely resembled the state of France under the last Carlo- vingian and the first Capetian princes. The crown was feeble, the great nobles were strong and turbulent ; and although there was more national iinity in Saxon Englr.nd than in France — although the English local free institutions had more reality and energy than was the case with any thing analogous to them on the Continent in *he eleventh century, still the i^robabilty is that the Saxon system of polity, if left to itself, would have fallen into utter confusion, Dut of which would have arisen, first, an aristocratic hierarchy ; .Uke that which arose in France; next, an absolute monarchy, «\nd, finally, a series of anarchial revolutions, such as we now be- hold around, but not among us.* The latest conquerors of this island were also the bravest and the best. I do not except even the Romans. And, in spite of oiir sympathies with Harold and Hereward, and our abhorrence of the founder of the New Forest and the desolator of Yorkshire, we must confess the superiority of the Normans to the Anglo-Saxons and Anglo-Danes, whom they met here in lUGB, as well as to the degen- erate Frank noblesse, and the crushed and servile Romanesque provincials, from whom, in 912, they had wrested the district in the north of Gaul, which still bears the name of Normandy. It was not merely bj" extreme valor and ready subordination to military discipline that the Normans were jDre-eminent among all the conquering races of the Gothic stock, but also by an instinctive faculty of appreciating and adopting the superior civilizations which they encountered. The Duke lloUus and his Scandinavian warriors readily embraced the creed, the language, the laws, and the arts, which France, in those troubled and evil times with which the Capetian dynasty commenced, still inherited from imperial Rome and imperial Charlemagne. "lis adopterent les usages, les devoirs, les subordination que les capitulaires dea empereurs et les rois aavoient institues. ]Mais ce qu'ils appoiierent dans I'appli- cation de ces lois, ce fut I'esprit de vie, Tespritde liberie, I'habitude de la subordination militaire, et I'intelligence d'un etat iJolitique qui conciliat la surete de tous aveo I'independance de chacun."t So, also, in all chivalric feelings, in enthusiastic religious zeal, in almost idolatrous respect to females of gentle birth, in generous * See Gulzot, xU supra. t bismondi, " Hlstolie de Frans^ls, " vol. 111., p. 174. 152 DECISTVE BATTLES. fontlness for the nascent poetry of the time, in a, keen intellectual lolish for snlitlo tliought and dis^jntation, in a taste for arcliitec- lural uiagniticence, and all coiirtly refinement and pageantry. The Normans were the Paladins of the world. Their brilliant qualities were snllied by many darker traits of pride, of merciless cruelty, and of brntal contempt for the industry, the rights, and /the feelings of all whom they considered the lower classes of man- kind. Their gradual blending with the Saxons softened these harsh and evil points of their national character; and in return they fired the duller Saxon mass with a new spirit of animation and power. As Campbell boldly expressed it, " They Jibjh-meWed the blood of our veins." Small had been the figiire which England made in the world before the coming over of the Normans and without them she never would have emerged from insignifi- cance. The authority of Gibbon may be taken as decisive when he iDronounces that " assuredly England was a gainer by the Con- quest." And we may proudly adoj^t the comment of the French- man Eapin, who, writing of the battle of Hastings more than a century ago, speaks of the revolution etfected by it as "the first step by which England is arrived to the height of grandeur and glory we behold it in at iDresent."* The interest of this eventful struggle, by which William of Nor- mandy became king of England, is materially enhanced by the high j)ersonal character of the competitors for our crown. They were three in number. One was a foreign prince, from the north; one was a foreign j)rince, from the south; and one was a native hero of the land. Harald Hardrada, the strongest and the most chilvalrio of the kings of Norway,! was the first; Duke William of Normandy was the second ; and the Saxon Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, was the third. Never was a nobler prize sought by nobler champions, or striven for more gallantly. The Saxon triumphed over the Norwegian, and the Norman tri- umphed over the Saxon ; but Norse valor was never more con- picuoiis than when Harald Hardrada and his host fought and fell at Stamford Bridge ; nor did Saxons ever face their foes more bravely than our Harold and his men on the fatnl day of Hastings. During the reign of King Edward the Confessor over this land, jthe claims of the Norwegian king to oiir crown were little thought of; and though Hardrada's predecessor, King Magnus of Norway, had on one occasioil asserted that, by virtue of a compact with our former king, Hardicanute, he was entitled to the English throne, no serious attempt had been made to enforce his pretensions. But the rivalry of the Saxon Harold and the Norman William was * Kapin, " nist. England," p. 164. See, also, on tliis point, Sharon Turner, vol. iv., p. 72. t see In Snorre the Saga Heraldl Hardrada. BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 153 foreseen and bewailed bv tlie Confessor, ■who was believed to have predicted on his death-bed the calamities that were impend- ing over England. Duke "William was King Edward's kinsman. Harold was the head of the most powerful noble house, next to the royal blood, in England ; and, jiersonally, he was the bravest and most popular chieftain in the land. King Edward was childless, and the nearest collateral heir was a puny unpromising boy. England' had suffered too severely, during royal minorities, to make the ac- cession of Edgar Atheling desirable; and long before King Edward's death, Earl Harold was the destined king of the nation's choice, though the favor of the Confessor was believed to lead toward the Norman duke. A little time before the death of King Edward, Harold was in Normandy. The causes of the voyage of the Saxon earl to the Continent are doubtful; but the fact of his having been, in 1065, at the ducal court, and in the power of his rival, is indisputable. William made skilful and unscrttpulous use of the oi^portunity. Though Harold was treated with outward courtesy and friend- shij), he was made fully aware that his liberty and life depended on his compliance with the duke's requests. William said to him in apparent confidence and cordiality, "When King Edward and I once lived like brothers under the same roof, he i:)romised that if ever he became King of England, he would make me heir to his throne. Harold, I wish that thou wouldst assist me to realize this promise." Harold replied with expressions of assent, and further agreed, at William's request, to marry William's datighter, Adela, and to send over his own sister to be married to one of William's barons. The crafty Norman was not content with this extorted promise; he determined to bind Harold by a more solemn pledge, the breach of which would be a weight on the spirit of the gallant Saxon, and a discouragement to others from adopting his cause. Before a full assembly of the Norman barons, Harold was required to do homage to Duke William, as the heir apparent to the English crown. Kneeling down, Harold placed his hands between those of the duke, and repeated the solemn form by which he acknowledged the diike as his lord, and prom- ised to him fealty and true service. But AVilliam exacted more. He had caused all the bones and relics of saints, that were pre- served in the Norman monasteries and churches, to be collected into a chest, which was placed in the council-room, covered over with a cloth of gold. On the chest of relics, which were thus concealed, was laid a missal. The duke then solemnly addressed his titular guest and real captive, and said to him, "Harold, I require thee, before this noble assembly , to confirm by oath the '' promises which thou hast made me, to assist me in obtaining the crown of England after King Edward's death, to marry my daughter Adela, and to send me thj' sister, that I may give her in marriage to one of my barons." Harold, once more taken by 154 DECISIVE BATTLES. surprise, and not able to deny his former words, approached the missal, and laid his hand on it, not knowincf that the chest of relics was beneath. The old Norman chronicler, who describes the scene most minutely,* says, when Harold placed his hand on it, the hand trembled, and the flesh quivered; bvit he swore, and promised upon his oath to take Ele [Adela] to wife, and to deliver up England to the duke and thereunto to do all in his power, according to his might and wit, after the death of Edward, if he himself should live; so help him God. Many cried, "God grant it!" and when Harold rose from his knees, the duke made him stand close to the chest, and took off the pall that had covered it and showed Harold iipon what holy relics he had sworn; and Harold was sorely alarmed at the sight. Harold was soon after permitted to return to England; and after a short interval, during which he distinguished himself by the wisdom and humanity with which he pacified some formidable tumults of the Anglo-Danes in Northumbria, he found himself called on to decide whether he would keep the oath which the Nor- man had obtained from him, or mount the vacant throne of England in compliance with the nation's choice. King Edward the Con- fessor died on the 5th of January, 1066, and on the following day an assembly of the thanes and prelates present in London, and of the citizens of the metropolis, declared that Harold should be their king. It was reported that the dying Edward had nominated him as his successor. But the sense which his countrymen enter- tained of his pre-eminent merit was the true foundation of his title to the crown. Harold resolved to disregaji'd the oath which he made in Normandy as violent and void, and on the 7th day of that January he was anointed King of England, and received from the archbishop's hands the golden crown and scepter of England, and also an ancient national symbol, a weighty battle-ax. He had truly deep and sjoeedy need of this significant part of the insignia of Saxon royalty. A messenger from Normandy soon arrived to remind Harold of the oath which he had sworn to the duke "with his mouth, and his hand upon good and holy relics." " It is true," replied the Saxon king, "that I took an oath to William; but I took it under con- straint: I promised what did not belong to me— what I could not in any way hold: my royalty is not my own; I could not lay it down against the will of the coiintry, nor can I, against the will of the country, take a foreign wife. As for my sister, whom the duke claims that he may marry her to one of his chiefs, she has died within the j'ear; would he have me send her corpse?" William sent another message, which met with a similar answer; and then the duke published far and wide through Christendom what he termed the perjury and bad faith of his rival, and pro- * Wace, " Roman de Ecu." I have nearly followed his words. BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 155 claimed his intention of asserting his rights by the sword, before the year should expire, and of pursuing and punishing the per- jurer even in those i^laces where he thought he stood most strongly and most seciarely. Before, however, he commenced hostilities, William, with deep- laid policy, submitted Lis claims to the decision of the pope. Harold refused to acknowledge this tribunal, or to answer before an Italian priest for his title as an English king. After a formal examination of William's complaints by the pope and the cardi- nals, it was solemnly adjudged at Rome that England belonged to the Norman duke, and a banner was sent to William from the Holy See, which the pope himself had consecrated, and blessed for the invasion of this island. The clergy throughout the Conti- nent were now assiduous and energetic in preaching up William's enterprise as undertaken in the cause of God. Besides these spirit- ual arms (ttie effect of which in the eleventh century must not be measured by the philosophy or indifferentism of the nineteenth) the Norman duke applied all the energies of his mind and body, ail the resources of his duchy, and all the influence he posessed among vassals or allies, to the collection of "the most remark- able and formidable armament which the Western nations had witnessed.''* All the adventurous spirits of Christendom flocked to the holy banner, underwhichDuke William, the most renowned knight and sagest general of the age, promised to lead them to glory and wealth in the fair domains of England. His army was filled with the chivalry of Continental Europe, all eager to save their soiils by fighting at the pope's bidding, eager to signalize their valor in so great an enterprise, and eager also for the pay and the plunder which William liberally promised. But the Ivor- mans themselves were the jjith and the flower ol the army, and William himself was the strongest, the sagest, and the fiercest spirit of them all. Throughout the spring and summer of 1066, all the sea-ports of Normandy, Picardy, and Bidttany rang with the busy sound of prepar.ition. On the opposite side of the Channel King Harold collected the army and the fleet with which he hoped to crush the southern invaders. But the unexpected attack of King Har- ald Hardrada of Norway upon another part of England discon- certed the skilful measures which the Saxen had taken against the menacing armada of Duke William. Harold's renegade brother. Earl Tostig, hfld excited the Norse king to this enteri^rise, the importance of which has naturally been eclipsed by the superior interest attached to the victorious expedition of Duke William, but which was on a scale of grandeur ■which the Scandinavian ports had rarelj', if ever, before witnessed. Hardrada's fleet consisted of two hundred war ships and three * Sir James ilackintosli's " Hlstoiy of England," vol. 1 , p. 97. ^ 156 DECISIVE BATTLES. hundred other vessels, and all the best warriors of Norway were in his host. He sailed first to the Orkneys, where many of the islanders joined him, and then to Yorkshire, After a severe con- flict near York, he completely roiited Earls Edwin and Morcar, the governors of Northumbria. The city of York opened its gates, and all the country, from the Tyne, to the Hiamber, submitted to him. The tidings of the defeat of Edwin and Morcar compelled Harold to leave his position on the Southern coast, and move in- stantly against the Norwegians. By a remarkably rapid march he reached Yorkshire in four days, and took the Norse king and his confederates by surprise. Nevertheless, the battle which ensued, and which was fought near Stamford Bridge, was desperate and was long doubtful. I^nable to break the ranks of the Norwegian phalanx by force, Harold at length tempted them to quit their close, order by a pretended flight. Then the English columns burst in among them, and a carnage ensued, the extent of which may be judged of by the exhaiistion and inactivity of Norway for a cpiarter of a century afterward. King Harald Hardrada, and all the iiower of his nobility, perished on the 25th of September, 1066, at Stamford Bridge, a battle which was a Flodden to Nor- way. Harold's victory was splendid; but he had boi:glit it dearly by the fall of many of his best officers and men, and still more dearly by the opportunity which Duke William had gained of effecting an unopposed landing on the Sussex coast. The whole of Wil- liam's shipping had assembled at the mouth of the Dive, a little river between the Seine and the Orne, as early as the middle of August. The army which he had collected amounted to fifty thousand knights and ten thousand soldiers of inferior degree. Many of the knights were mounted, but many must have served on foot, as it is hardly jjossible to believe that William could have found transports for the conveyance of fifty tliousand war-horses across the Channel. For a long time the winds were adverse, and the duke employed the interval that passed before he could set sail in completing the organization and in improving the discipline of his army, which he seems to have brought into the same state of perfection as was seven centuries and a half afterward the boast of another army assembled on the same coast, and which Napoleon designed (but providentially in vain) for a similar descent ujion England. It was not till the' approach of the equinox that the wind veered from the northeast to the west, and gave the Normans an oppor- tunity of quitting the weary shores of the Dive. They eagerly em- barked and set sail, but the wind soon freshened to a gale and drove them along the French coast to St. Valery where the greater part of them found shelter; but many of their vessels were wrecked, and the whole coast of Normandy was strewn with the bodies of the drowned. W^illiam's army began to grow discouraged and averse BATTLE OF EASTINGS. 157 to tlie enterprise, wliich the very elements thus seemed to fight against; though, in reality, the northeast wind, which had coped them so long at the mouth of the Dive, and the western gale, which had forced them into St. Valery, were the best possible friends to the invaders. They prevented the Normans fi'om cross- ing the Channel until the Saxon king and his army of defense had been called away from the Sussex coast to encounter Harald Hardrada in Yorkshire; and also until a formidable English fleet iwhich by King Harold's orders had been cruising in the Channel to intercept the Normans, had been obliged to disperse tempor- arily for the purpose of refitting and taking in fresh stores of provisions. Duke William used every expedient to reanimate the drooping spirits of his men at St. Valery ; and at last he caused the body of the patron saint of the place to be exhumed and carried in solemn procession, while the whole assemblage of soldiers, mariners, and appurtenant priests implored the saint's intercession for a change of wind. That very night the wind veered, and enabled the me- diccval Agamemnon to quit his Aulis. With full sails, and a following southern breeze, the Norman Armada left the French shores and steered for England. The invaders crossed an undefended sea, and found an undefended coast. It was in Pevensey Bay, in Siissex, at Bulverhithe, between the castle of Pevensey and Hastings, that the last conquerors of this island landed on the 29th of September, 1066. Harold was at York, rejoicing over his recent victory, which had delivered England from her ancient Scandinavian foes, and resett- ling the government of the counties which Harald Hardrada had overrun, when the tidings reached him that Duke William of Nor- mandy and his host had landed on the Sussex shore. Harold in- stantly hurried southward to meet this long-expected enemy. The severe loss which his army had sustained in the battle with the Norwegians must have made it imjDossible for many of his veteran troops to accompany him in his forced march to London, and thence to Sussex. He halted at the capital only six days, and during that time gave orders for collecting forces from the southern and mid- land counties, and also directed his fleet to reassemble ofif the Sussex coast. Harold was well received in London, and his sum- mons to arms was promptly obeyed by citizen, by thane, by isokman, and by ceorl, for he had shown himself, during his brief reign, a jusL and wise kingafi'able to all men, active for the good of his country, and (in the words of the old historian) sparing him- self from no fatigue by land or by sea.* He might have gathered a much more numerous army than that of William ; but his recent victory had made him over-confident, and he was irritated by the * See Roger de Uovedcn and William of Malmesbury, cited in Tlilerry, book ill. .7. .,, 158 DECISIVE BATTLES. reports of the country being ravaged by the invaders. As soon, therefore, as he had collected a small army in London, he marched off toward the coast, pressing forward as rapidly as his men could traverse Surrej"- and Sussex, in the hope of taking the Normans un- awares, as he had recently, by a similar forced march, siicceeded in surprising the Norwegians. J3ut he had now to deal with a foe equally brave with Harald Hardrada, and far more skilful and wary. The old Norman chroniclers describe the preparations of William on his landing with a graphic vigor, which would be wholly lost by transfusing their racy Norman coujjlets and terse Latin prose into the current style of modern history. It is best to follow them closely, though at the expense of much quaintness and occasional uncouthness of expression. They tell lis how Duke William's own ship was the first of the Norman fleet. It was called the Mora, and was the gift of his duchess, Matilda. On the head of the ship, in the front, which mariners called the prow, there was a brazen child bearing an arrow with a bended bow. His face was turned toward England, and thither he looked as though he was about to shoot. The breeze became soft and sweet, and the sea was smooth for their landing. The ships ran on dry land, and each ranged by the other's side. There yoia might see the good sailors, the ser- ■geants, and sqiaires sally forth and unload the ships ; cast the anchors, haul the ropes, bear out shields and saddles, and land the war-horses and the palfreys. The archers came forth, and touched land the first, each with his bow strung, and with his quiver full of arrows slung at his side. All were shaven and shorn ; and all clad in short garments, ready to attack, to shoot, to wheel about and skirmish. All stood well equipped, and of good courage for the fight ; and they scoured the whole shore, but found not an armed man there. After the archers had thus gone forth, the knights landed all armed, with their hauberks on, their shields slung at their necks, and their helmets laced. They formed together on the shore, each armed, and mounted on his war-horse ; all had their swords girded on, and rode forward into the country with their lances raised. Then the carpenters landed, who had great axes in their hands, and planes and adzes hung at their sides. They took counsel together, and soiight for a good si^ot to place a castle on. They had brought with them in the fleet three wooden castles from Normandy in xaieces, all ready for framing together, and they took the materials of one of these out of the shijas, all shaped and pierced to receive the pins which they had brought cut and ready in large barrels ; and before evening had set in, they had finished a good fort on the English ground, and there they placed their stores. All then ate and drank enough, and were right glad that they were ashore. When Duke William himself landed, as he stepped on the shore, he slipped and fell forward upon his two hands. Forthwith all BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 159, raised a loud ci-y of distress. "An evil sign," said they, •' is here." But he cried out lustily, "See, my lords, by the splendor of God,'*J I have taken jjossession of England with both my hands. It is now mine, and what is mine is yours." The next day they marched along the sea-shore to Hastings!^ Near that place the duke foiiified a camp, and set up the two other wooden castles. The foragers, and those who looked out for booty, seized all the clothing and i^rovisions they could find lest what had been brought by the ships should fail them. And the English were to be seen fleeing before them, driving off their cattle, and quitting their houses. Many took shelter in burying-i^laces, and even there they were in grievous alarm. Besides the marauders from the Norman camjj, strong bodies of cavalry were detached by William into the country, and these, when Harold and his army made their rapid march from London southward, fell back in good order iipon the main body of the Normans, and reported that the Saxon king was rushing on like a madman. But Harold, when he found that his hopes of surprising his adversary were vain, changed his tactics, and halted about seven miles from the Norman lines. He sent some spies, who spoke the French language, to examine the number and preparations of the enemy, who, on their return, related with astonishment that there were more priests in William's camjD than there were fighting men in theEnglish army. They had mistaken for ^Driests all the Norman soldiers who had short hair and shaven chins, for the English lay- men were then accustomed to wear long hair and mustachios. Harold, who knew the Norman usages, smiled at their words, and said, "Those whom you have seen in such numbers are not priests, but stout soldiers, as they will soon make us feel," Harold's army was far inferior in number to that of the Normans, and some of his captains advised him to retreat upon London, and lay waste the countrj', so as to starve down the strength of the invaders. The policy thus recommended was unquestionably the wisest, for the Saxon fleet had now reassembled, and intercepted all William's communications with Normandy ; and as soon as his stores of provisions were exhausted, he must have moved forward upon London, where Harold, at the head of the full military strength of the kingdom, could have defied his assault, and prob- ably might have witnessed his rival's destruction by famine and disease without having to strike a single blow. But Harold's bold blood was up, and his kindly heart could not endure to inflict on his South Saxon subjects even the temporary misery of wasting the country. "He would not burn houses and villages, neither would he take away the substance of his people." Harold's brothers, Gurth and Leofwine, were with liim in the camp, and Gurth endeavored to persuade him to absent himself * William's customary oath; ICO LECTSIVE BATTLES. from the battle. Tho incident sho\vs how well deTised had been William's scheme of binding Harold by the oath on the holy relics. " . y brother," said the young Saxon prince, " thoii canst not deny that either by force or free will thou hast made Duke William an oath on the bodies of saints. Why then risk thyself in the battle with a perjury upon thee? To us, who have sworn nothing, this is a holy and a just war, for we are fighting for our country. Leave us then alone to fight this battle, and he who has the right will win. " Harold rei^lied that he woul d not look on whil? others risked their lives for him. Men would hold him a coward, and blame him for sending his best friends where he dared not go himself. He resolved, therefore, to fight, and to fight in person ; but he was still too good a general to be the assailant in the action ; and he jDOsted his army with great skill along a ridge of rising ground which opened southward, and was covered on the back by an exten- sive wood. He strengthened his position by a palisade of stakes and osier hurdles, and there he said he would defend himseK against whoever should seek him. The ruins of Battle Abbey at this hour attest the place where Harold's army was posted ; and the high altar of the abbey stood on the very spot where Harold's own standard was planted during the fight, and where the carnage was the thickest. Immediately after his victory, William vowed to build an abbey on the site ; and a fair and stately pile soon rose thei-e, where for many ages the monks prayed and said masses for the souls of those who were slain in the battle, whence the abbey took its name. Before that time the place was called Senlac. Little of the ancient edifice now remains ; but it is easy to trace in the park and the neighbor- hood the scenes of the chief incidents in the action ; and it is im- possible to deny the generalship) shown by Harold in stationing his men, especially when we bear in mind that he was deficient in cavalry, the arm in which his adversary's main strength consisted. William's only chance of safetj' lay in bringing on a general engagement ; and he joyfully advanced his army from their camp on the hill over Hastings, nearer to the Saxon position. But he neglected no means of weakening his opponent, and renewed his summonses and demands on Harold with an ostentatious air of sanctity and moderation. "A monk, named Hugues Maigrot, came in William's name to call upon the Saxon king to do one of three things — either to resign his royalty in favor of William, or to refer it to the arbitra- tion of the pope to decide which of the two ought to be king, or to let it be determined by the issue of a single combat. Harold abruptly replied, ' I will not resign my title, I will not refer it to the pope, nor will T accept the single combat.' He was far from being defi- cient in bravery ; but he was no more at liberty to stake the crown which he had received from a whole people in the chance of a duel, than to dej)osit it in the hands of an Italian priest. BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 161 William, not at all ruffled by the Saxon's refusal, but steadily pur- suing the course of his calculated measures, sent the Norman monk again, after giving him these instructions ;' Go and tell Harold that if he will keep his former compact with me, I will leave to him all the country which is beyond the Humber, and will give his brother Gurth all the lands which Godwin held. If he still persist in refusing my offers, then thou shalt tell him, before all his people, that he is a perjurer and a liar ; that he and all who shall support him are excommunicated by the mouth of the pope, and that the bull to that effect is in my hands. ' "Hiigues Maigrot delivered this message in a solemn tone; and the Norman chronicle says that at the word excovimiinicatiori, the English chiefs looked at one another as if some great danger were impending. One of them then spoke as follows : ' We must fight, whatever may be the danger to us ; for what we have to con- sider is not whether we shall accept and receive a new lord, as if our king were dead; the case is quite otherwise. The Norman has given our lands to his captains, to his knights, to all his people, the greater part of whom have already done homage to him for them ; they will all look for their gift if their duke become our king ; and he himself is bound to deliver up to them our goods, our wives, and our daughters : all is promised to them beforehand. They come, not only to ruin us, but to ruin our descendants also and to take from us the country of our ancestors. And what shall we do — whither shall we go, when we have no longer a country?' The English promised, by a unanimous vote to make neither peace, nor truce, nor treaty with the invader, but to die, or drive away the Normans."* The 13th of October was occupied in these negotiations, and at night the duke announced to his men, that the next day would be the day of battle. That night is said to have been passed by the two armies in very different manners. The Saxon soldiers spent it in joviality, singing their national songs, and draining huge horns of ale and wine round their camp-fires. The Normans, when they had looked to their arms and horses, confessed them- selves to the priests with whom their camp was thronged, and re- ceived the sacrament by thousands at a time. On Saturday, the lith of October was fought the great battle. It is not difficult to compose a narrative of its principal incidents from the historical information which we possess, especially if aided by an examination of the ground. But it is far better to adopt the spirit-stirring words of the old chroniclers, who wrote while the recollections of the battle were yet fresh, and while the feelings and prejudices of the combatants yet glowed in the bosoms of living men. Eobert Wace, the Norman poet, who presented his " Roman de Eou" to our Henry II., is the most picturesque and • ThleiTv. D.B.-6 182 DECISIVE BATTLES. animated of the old writers, and from liim we can obtain a more vivid and full description of the conflict than even the most brilliajit romance-writer of tlie present time can siipply. We have also an antique memorial of the battle more to be relied on than either chronicler or poet (and which confirms Wace's narrative remark- ably) in the celebrated Bayeiix taj^estry which represents the principal scenes of Duke William's expedition, and of the circiamstances connected with it, in minute, though occasionally grotesque details, and which was undoubtedly the production of the same age in which the battle took place, whether we admit or reject the legend that Queen Matilda and the ladies of her court wrought it with their own hands in honor of the royal conqueror. Let us therefore ouffer the old Norman chronicler to transport our imaginations to the fair Sussex scenery northwest of Hastings, as it appeared on the morning of the fourteenth of October, seven hundred and eighty -five years ago. Ihe Norman host is pouring forth from its tents, and each troop and each company is forming fast under the banner of its leader. The massess have been sung, which were finished betimes in the morning ; the barons have all assembled round Duke William ; and the duke has ordered that the army shall be formed in three divisions, so as to make the attack upon the JSaxon position in three places. The duke stood on a hill where he could best see his men ; the barons surrounded him, and he spake to them proudly. He told them how he trusted them, and how all that he gained should be theirs, and how sure he felt of conquest, for in all the world there was not so brave an army, or such good men and true as were then forming around him. Then they cheered him in turn, and cried out, " 'You will not see one coward ; none here will fear to die for love of you, if need be.' And he answered them, ' I thank you well. For God's sake, spare not ; strike hard at the beginning ; stay not to take spoil ; all the booty shall be in common, and there will be plenty for every one. There will be no safety in asking quarter or in flight ; the English will never love or spare a Norman. Felons they were, and felons they are ; false they were, and false they will be. Show no weakness toward them, for they will have no pity on you : neither the coward for running well, nor the bold man for smiting well, will be the better liked by the English, nor will any be the more spared on either account. You may fly to the sea, but you can fly no farther ; you will find neither ships nor bridge there; there Will be no sailors to receive you ; and the English will overtake you there, and slay you in your shame. More of you will die in flight than in battle. Then, as flight will not secure you, fight, and you will conquer. I have no doubt of the victory : we are come tor glory ; the victory is in our hands, and we may make sure of obtaining it if we so please.' As the duke was speaking thus, and would yet have spoken more, William Fitz Osber rode up BA TTLE OF EASTIXOS. 1&3 with his fiorse all coated with iron : 'Sire,' said he, ' we tarry here too long ; let us all arm ourselves. Allans ! Allans I ' "Then all went to their tsnts, and armed themselves as they best might ; and the duke was very busy, giving every one his orders ; and he was courteous to all the vassals, giving away many arms and horses to them. When he prepared to arm himself, he called first for his good hauberk, and a man brought it on his arm, and placed it before him, bat in putting his head in to get it on, he unawa'-es turned it the wrong way, with the back part in front. He soon changed it ; but when he saw that those who stood by were sorely alarmed, he said, ' I have seen many a man who, if such a thing had happened to hira, would not have borne arms, or entered the field the same day ; buti never believed in omens, and I never will. I trust in God, for he does in all things his pleasure, and ordains what is to come to pass according to his will. I have never liked fortune-tellers, nor believed in diviners ; but I commend myself to Our Lady, Let not this mischance give you trouble. The hauberk which was turned wrong, and then set right by me, signifies that a change will arise out of the matter which we are now stirring. You^hall see the name of duke changed into king. Yea, a king shall I be, who hitherto have been but duke.' Then he crossed himself, and straightway took his hauberk, stooped his head, and put it on aright ; and laced his helmet, and girt on his sword, which a varlet brought him. Then the duke called for his good horse -a better could not be found. It had been sent him by a king of Spain, out of very great friendship. Neither arms nor the press of fighting men did it fear, if its lord spurred it on. Walter Giflard brought it. The duke stretched out his hand, took the reins, put foot in stirrup, and mounted ; and tho good horse pawed, pranced, reared himself up, and curveted. The Viscount of Toarz saw how the duke bore himself in arms, and said to his people that were around him, ' Never have I seen a man so fairly armed, nor one who rode so gallantly, or bore his arms, or became his haiaberk so well; neither any one who bore his lance so grace- fully, or sat his horse and managed him so nobly. There is no such knight under heaven ! a fair count ho is, and fair king he will be. Let him fight, and he shall overcome ; shame be to the man who shall fail him,' " Then the duke called for the standard which the pope had Bent him, and he who bore it having unfolded it, the duke took it and called to llaol de Conches. 'Bear my standard,' said he 'for I would not but do you right ; by right and by ancestry your line are standard-bearers of Normandy, and very good knights have they all been.' But llaol said that he would serve the duko that day in other guise, and would fight the English with his hand as long as life should last. Then the duke bade Galtier Giffiirt bear the standard. But he was old and white-headed, and bade the duke give the standard to some younger and stronger man to 164 DECISIVE BATTLES. carry. Then the duke said fiercely, ' By the splendor of God, my lords, I think you mean to betray and fail me in this great need.' 'Sire,' said Giffart, 'not so we have done no treason, nor do I refuse from any felony toward you ; but I have to lead a great chivalry, both hired men and the men of my fief. Never had I Buch good means of serving you as i now have ; and if God please, I will serve you ; if need be, I will die for you, and will give my own heart for yours.' " 'By my faith,' quoth the duke, 'I always love thee, and now I love thee more ; if I survive this day, thou shalt be the better for it all thy days.' Then he called out a knight, whom he had heard much praised, Tosteins Fitz-Eou le Blanc by name, whose abode was at Bec-en-Caux. To him he delivered the standard ; and Tos- teins took it right cheerfully, and bowed low to him in thanks, and bore it gallantly, and with good heart. His kindred still have quittance of all service for their inheritance on this account, and their heirs axe entitled so to hold their inheritance forever. ' William sat on his war-horse, and called out Rogier, whom they call De Montgomeri. 'I rely much on you,' said he ; 'lead yoiir men thitherward, and attack them from that side. William, the son of Osber, the seneschal, a right good vassal, shall go with you and help in the attack, and you shall have the men of Boilogne and Poix, and all my soldiers. Alain Fergert and Ameri shall at- tack on the other side ; they shall lead the Poitevins and the Bretons, and all the barons of Maine ; and I, with my own great men, my friends and kindred, will fight in the middle throng, where the battle shall be the hottest. " The barons, and knights, and men-at-arms were all now armed; the foot-soldiers were well equipped, each bearing bow and sword; on their heads were caps, and to their feet were bound buskins. Some had good hides which they had bound round their bodies; and many were clad in frocks, and had quivers and bows hung to their girdles. The knights had hauberks and swords, boots of steel, and shining helmets ; shields at their necks, and in their hands lances. And all had their cognizances, so that each might know his fellow, and Norman might not strike Norman, nor Frenchman kill his countryman by mistake. Those on foot led the way, with serried ranks, bearing their bows. The knights rode next, supporting the archers from behind. Thus both horse and foot kept their course and order of march as they began, in close ranks at a gentle pace, that the one might not pass or separate from the other. All went firmly and compactly, bearing themselves gallantly. "Harold had summoned his men, earls, barons, and vavassors, from the castles and the cities, from the ports, the villages, and boroughs. The peasants were also called together from the vil- lages, bearing such arms as they found ; ch:bs and great picks, iron forks and stakes. The Englisli had inclosed the place where BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 1G5 Harold was with his friends and the barons of the country whom he had summoned and called together. "Those of London had came at once, and those of Kent, of Hertfoi-t, and of Essesse ; those of Suree and Susesse, of St. Ed- mund and Sufoc ; of Norwis and Norfoc ; of Cantorbierre and Stan- fort ; Bedefort and Hiindetone. The men of Northanton also came; and those of Eurowic and B:ikinkeham, of Bed and Notinke- ham, Lindesie and Nichole. There came also from the west all who heard the summons ; and very many were to be seen coming Ifrom Salebriere and Dorset, from Bat and from Sumerset. Many came, too, from about Glocester, and many from Wirecester, from "Wincester, Hontesire, and Brichesire; and many more from other counties that we have not named, and cannot, indeed, recount. All who could bear arms, and had learned the news of the duke's arrival, came to defend the land. But none came from beyond Humbre, for they had other business upon their hands, the Danes and Tosti having much damaged and weakened them. " Harold knew that the Normans Mould come and attack him hand to hand, so he had early inclosed the field in which he placed his men. He made them arm early, and range themselves for the battle, he himself having put on arms and equipments that became such a lord. The duke, he said, ought to seek him, as he wanted to conquer England ; and it became him to abide the at- tack who had to defend the land. He commanded the people, and counseled his barons to keejj themselves all together, and defend themselves in a body ; for if they once separated they would with difficulty recover themselves. 'The Normans,' said he, 'are good vassals, valiant on foot and on horseback ; good knights are they on horseback, and well used to liattle ; all is lost if they once pen- etrate our ranks. They have brought long lances and swords, but you have pointed lances and keen-edged bills; and I do not expect that their arms can stand against yours. Cleave whenever you can ; it will be ill done if you spare aught.' "The English had built up a fence before them with their shields, and with ash and other wood, and had well joined and wattled in the whole work, so as not to leave even a crevice ; and thus they had a barricade in their front, through which any Nor- man who would attack them must first pass. Being covered in this way by their shields and barricades, their aim was to defend themselves ; and if they had remained steady for that purpose, they would not have been conqiiered that day ; for every Norman who made his way in, lost his life in dishonor, either by hatchet or bill, by club or other weapon. They wore short and close hauberks, and helmets that hung over their garments. King Harold issued orders, and made proclamation round, that all should bo ranged with their faces toward the enemy, and that no one should move from where he was, eo that whoever camo might find them rcadv ; and that whatever any one, bo he Norman or ie« DECISIVE BATTLES. other, should do, each should do his best to defend his own place. Then he ordered the men of Kent to go where the Normans were likely to make the attack ; for they say that the men of Kent are entitled to strike first ; and that whenever the king goes to battle the first blow belongs to them. The right of the men of London is to guard the king'n body, to place themselves around him, and to guard his standard ; and they were accordingly placed by the standard to watch and defend it. "When Harold had made all ready, and given his orders, he came into the midst of the English, and dismounted by the side of the standard ; Leofwin and Gurth, his brothers, were with him; and around him he had barons enough, as he stood by his stand- ard, which was, in truth, a noble one, sparkling with gold and precious stones. After the victory William sent it to the pope, to prove and commemorate his great conquest and glory. The Eng- lish stood in close ranks, ready and eager for the fight ; and they, moreover, made a fosse, which went across the field, guarding one side of their army. " Meanwhile the Normans appeared advancing over the ridge of a rising ground, and the first division of their troops moved on- ward along the hill and across a valley. And presently another division, still larger, came in sight, close following upon the first, and they were led toward another part of the field, forming to- gether as the first body had done. And while Harold saw and examined them, and was pointing them out to Giirth, a fresh company came in sight, covering all the plain ; and in the midst of them was raised the standard that came from Home. Near it was the duke, and the best men and greatest strength of the army were there. The good knights, the good vassals and brave war- riors were there ; and there were gathered together the gentle barons, the good archers, and the men-at-arms, whose duty it was to guard the duke, and range themselves around him. Tha youths and common herd of the camp, whose business was not to join in the battle, but to take care of the harness and stores, moved oif toward a rising gro\ind. The priests and the clerks also ascended a hill, there to ofi'er up prayers to God, and watch the event of the battle. " The English stood firm on foot in close ranks, and carried themselves right boldly. Each man had his hauberk on, with his sword girt, and his shield at his neck. Great hatchets were also slung at their necks, with which they expected to strike heavy blows. " The Normans brought on the three divisions of their army to attack at different places. They set out in three companies ; and in three companies did they fight. The first and second had come up, and then advanced the third, which was the greatest ; with that came the duke with hia own men, and all moved boldly forward. BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 187 " As soon as the two armies were in full view of each other, great noise and tumult arose. You might hear the sound of many trumpets, of bugles, and of horns ; and then yon might see men ranging themselves in line, lifting their shields, raising their lances, bending their bows, handling their arrows, ready for as- sault and defense. " The English stood steady to their post, the Normans still moved on ; and when they drew near, the English were to be seen stir- ring to and fro ; were going and coming ; troops ranging them- selves in order ; some with their color rising, others turning pale; some making ready their arms, others raising their shields ; the brave man rousing himself to tight, the coward trembling at the approach of danger. " Then Taillefer, who sang right well, rode, mounted on a swift horse, before the duke, singing of Charlemagne and of Roland of Oliver, and the peers who died in Eoncesvalles. And when they drew nigh to the English, ' A boon, sire ! ' cried Taillefer ; ' I have longed served you, and you owe me for all such service. To-day, so please you, you shall rejaay it. I ask as my guerdon, and be' seech j'ou for it earnestly, that yoi' will allow me to strike the first blow in the battle !' And the duke answered, 'I grant it.' Then Taillefer put his horse to a gallop, charging before all the rest, and struck an Englishman dead, driving his lance below the breast into his body, and stretching him upon the ground. Then he drew his sword, and struck another, crying out, ' Come on, come on ! What do ye, sirs ? lay on, lay on !' At the second blow he struck, the English pushed forward, and surrounded, and slew him. Forthwith arose the noise and cry of war, and on either side the people put themselves in motion. " The Normans moved on to the assault, and the English de- fended 1 liemselves well. Some were striking, others larging on- ward ; all were bold, and cast aside fear. And now, behold, that battle was gathered whereof the fame is yet mighty. " Loud and far resounded the bray of the horus ; and the shocks of the lances, the mighty strokes of maces, and the quick clashing of swords. One while the Englishmen rushed on, another while they fell back ; one while the men from over sea charged onward, and again at other times retreated. The Normans shouted Dei Aie, the English people Out. Then came the cunningmaneuvers, the rude shocks and strokes of the lance, and blows of the swords, among the sergeants and soldiers, lloth English and Norman. "When the English fall the Normans sliout. Each side taunts and defies the other, yet neither knoweth what the other saith ; and the Normans say the English bark, because they understand not their speech. " Some wax strong, others weak : the brave exult, but the cow- ards tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. The Normans press on the assault, and the English defend their post well • they pierce iOS DECISIVE BATTLES. the haiabericR, and cleave the shields, receive and return mighty blows. Again, some press forward, others yield ; and thus, in va- rious ways, the struggle proceeds. In the plain was a fosse, which the Normans had now behind them, having passed it in the fight without regarding it. But the English charged and drove the Normans before them till they made them fall back upon this fosse, overthrowing into it horses and men. Many were to be seen falling therein, rolling one over the other, with their faces to the earth, and unable to rise. Many of the English, also, whom the Normans drew down along with them, died there. At no time during the day's battle did so many Normans die as perished in that fosse. So those said who saw the dead. " The varlets who were set to guard the harness began to aban- don it as they saw the loss of the Frenchmen, when thrown back upon the fosse without power to recover themselves. Being greatly alarmed at seeing the difficulty in restoring order, they began to quit the harness, and sought around, not knowing where to find shelter. Then Duke William's brother, Odo, the good priest, the Bishop of Bayeux, galloped up, and said to them, ' Stand fast ! stand fast ! be quiet and move not ! fear nothing ; for, if God please, we shall conquer yet.' So they took courage, and rested where they were ; and Odo returned galloping back to where the battle was most fierce, and was of great service on that day. He had put a hauberk on over a white aube, wide in the body, with the sleeve tight, and sat on a white horse, so that all might recog- nize him. In his hand he held a mace, and wherever he saw most need he held up and stationed the knights, and often urged them on to assault and strike the enemy. "From nine o'clock in the morning, when the combat began, till three o'clock came, the battle was up and down, this way and that, and no one knew who would conquer and win the land. Both sides stood so firm and fought so well, that no one could guess which would prevail. The Norman archers with their bows shot thickly upon the English; but they covered themselves with their shields, so that the arrows could not reach their bodies, noi do any mischief, how true soever was their aim, or however well they shot. Then the Normans determined to shoot their arrows upward into the air, so that they might fall on their enemies' heads, and strike their faces. The archers adopted this scheme, and sTiot up into the air toward the English ; and the arrows, in falling, struck their heads and faces, and put out the eyes of many ; and all feared to open their eyes, or leave their faces un- guarded. "The arrows now flew thicker than rain before the wind ; fast sped the shafts that the English call ' wibetes.' Then it was that an arrow, that had been thus shot upward, struck Harold above his right eye, and put it out. In his agony he drew the arrow and threw it away, breaking it with his hands ; and the pain to his head BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 189 was so great that he leaned upon his shield. So the English were ■wont to say, and still say to the French, that the arrow was well shot which was so sent np against their king, and that the archer won them great glory who thus put f)ut Harold's eye. "The Normans saw that the English defended themselves well, and were so strong in their position that they could do little ^against them. So they consulted together privily, and arranged to draw off, and pretend to flee, till the English should pursue and scatter themselves over the field ; for they saw that if they could once get their enemies to break their ranks, they might be attacked and discomfitted much more easily. As they had said, so they did. The Normans by little and little fled, the English following them. As the one fell back, the other pressed after; and when the Frenchmen retreated, the English thought and cried out that the men of France fled, and woxild never return. "Thus they were deceived by the pretended flight, and great mischief thereby befell them ; for if they had not moved from their position, it is not likely that they would have been con- quered at all ; biit, like fools, they broke their lines and pursued. "The Normans were to be seen following up their stratagem, retreating slowly so as to draw the English farther on. As they still flee, the English pursue ; they push out their lances and stretch forth their hatchets, following the Normans as they go, re- joicing in the success of their scheme, and scattering themselves over the plain. And the English meantime jeered and insulted their foes with words. 'Cowards,' they cried, 'you came hither in an evil hour, wanting our lands, and seeking to seize our prop- erty, fools that ye were to come ! Normandy is too far ofl", and you will not easily reach it. It is of little use to run back ; unless you can cross the sea at a leap, or can drink it dry, yoiir sons and daughters are lost to you.' ""The Normans bore it all ; but, in fact, they knew not what the English said : their langtiage seemed like the baying of dogs which they could not understand. At length they stopped and turned ro\ind, determined to recover their ranks ; and the barons might be heard crying dex ate ! for a halt. Then the Normans resumed their former position, turning their faces toward the enemy ; and their men were to be seen facing round and rushing onward to a fresh melee, the one party assaulting the other ; this man striking, another pressing onward. One hits, another misses; one flies, an- other pursues; one is aiming a stroke, while another discharges his blow. Norman strives with Englishman again, and aims his blows afresh. One flies, another pursues swiftly: the combatants are many, the plain wide, the battle and the »ie/ee fierce. On every hand they fight hard, the blows are heavy, and the struggle be- comes fierce. " The Normans were playing their part well, when an English Icnight came rushing up, having in his company a hundred men, 1 70 DECISI VE BA TTLE8. furnished 'with Tarioiis arms. He wielded a northern hatchet, with the blade a full foot long, and was well armed after his man- ner, being tall, bold, and of noble carriage. In the front of the battle, where the Normans thronged most, he came bounding on swifter than the stag, many Normans falling before him and his company. He rushed straight iipon a Norman who was armed and riding on a war-house, and tried with his hatchet of steel to cleave his helmet ; but the blow miscarried, and the sharp blade glanced down before the saddle-bow, driving through the horse's neck down to the groiind, so that both horse and master fell to- gether to the earth. I know not whether the Englishman struck another blow; but the Normans who saw the stroke were as- tonished, and about to abandon the assault, when Roger de Mont- gomeri came galloping uji, with his lance set, and heeding not the long-handled axe which the Englishman wielded aloft, struck him down, and left him stretched on the ground. Then Roger cried out, ' Frenchmen, strike ! the day is ours ! ' And again a fierce melee was to be seen, with many a blow of lance and sword ; the English still defending themselves, killing the horses and cleaving the shields. "There was a French soldier of noble mien, who sat his horse gallantly. He spied two Englishmen who were also carrying themselves boldly. They were both men of great worth, and had become companions in arms and fought together, the one protect- ing the other. They bore two long and broad bills, and did great mischief to the Normans, killing both horses and men. The French soldier looked at them and their bills, and was sore alarmed, for he was afraid of losing his good horse, the best that he had, and would willingly have turned to some other quarter, if it would not have looked like cowardice. He soon, however, recovered his courage, and, spurring his horse, gave him the bri- dle, and gallo])ed swiftly forward. Fearing the two bills, he raised his shield, and struck one of the Englishmen with his lance on the breast, so that the iron passed out at his back. At the mo- ment that he fell, the lance broke, and the Frenchman seized the mace that hung at his right side, and struck the other Englishman a blow that completely fractured his skull. "On the other side was an Englishman who much annoyed the French, continually assaulting them with a keen-edged hatchet. He had a helmet made of wood, which he had fastened down to his coat, and laced round his neck, so that no blows could reach his head. The ravage he was making was seen by a gallant Nor- man knight, who rode a horse that neither fire nor water could stop in its career, when its master urged it on. The knight spurred, and his horse carried him on well till he charged the Englishman, striking him over the helmet, so that it fell down over his eyes; and as he stretched out his hand to raise it and uncover his face, the Norman cut off his right hand, so that hia BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 171 hatchet fell to the ground. Another Norman sprang forward and eagerly seized the prize with both his hands, but he kept it little space, and paid dearly for it, for as he stooped to pick np the hatchet, an Englishman with his lond-handled axe struck him over the back, breaking all his bones, so that his entrails and lungs gushed forth. The knight of the good horse meantime _ re- turned without injury, but en his way he met another English- man, and bore him down under his horse, wounding him griev- ously, and trampling him altogether under foot. "And now might be heard the loud clang and cry of battle, and the clashing of lances. The English stood firm in their barricades, and shivered the lances, beating them into pieces with their bills and maces. The Normans drew their swords and hewed down the barricades, and the English, in great trouble, fell back upon their standard, where were collected the maimed and wounded. " There wany knights of Chauz who jousted and made attacks. The English knew not how to joust, or bear arms on horseback, but fought with hatchets and bills. A man, when he wanted to strike with one of their hatchets, was obliged to hold it with both his hands, and could not at the same time, as it seems to me, both cover himself and strike with any freedom. "The English fell back toward the standard, which was upon a rising ground, and the Normans followed them across the val- ley, attacking them on foot and horseback. Then Hue de Mor- temer, with the Sires D'Auviler, D'Onebac, and Saint Cler, rode up and charged, overthrowing many. "Kobei-t Fitz Erneis fixed his lance, took his shield, and, gallop- ing toward the standard, with his keen-edged sword struck an Englishman who Mas in front, killed him, and then drawing back his sword, attacked many others, and pushed straight for the stand- ard, trying to beat it down ; but the English surrounded it, and killed him with their bills. He was found on Ihe spot, when they afterward sought for him dead and lying at the standard's foot. "Duke William pressed close upon the English with his lance striving hard to reach the standard with the great troop he led and seeking earnestly for Harold, on whose account the whole war was. The Normans follow their lord, and press around him, they ply their blows upon the English ; and these defend themselves stout- ly, striving hard with their enemies, returning blow for blow. " One of them was a man of great strength, a wrestler, who did great mischief to the Normans with his hatchet ; all feared him, for he struck down a great many Normans. The duke spurred on his horse, and aimed a blow at him, but he stooped, and so escaped the stroke ; then jumping on one side, he lilted his hatchet aloft, and as the duke bent to avoid the blow, the Englishman boldly Btruck him on the head, and beat in his helmet though without doing much injury. He was very near falling however ; but, bearing on his stirrups, he recovered himself immediately ; and 172 DECISIVE BATTLES. when he thought to have revenged himself upon the churl by kill- ing him, he had escaped, dreading the duke's blow. He ran back in among the English, biit he was not safe even there ; for the Nor- mans, seeing him, pursued and caught him, and having pierced him through and through with their lances, left him dead on the ground. " Where the throng of the battle was greatest, the men of Kent and Essex fought wondrously well, and made the Normans again retreat, but without doing them much injury. And when the duke saw his men iall back, and the English triumphing over them, his spirit rose high, and he seized his shield and his lance, which a vassal handed to him, and took his post by his standard. "Then those who kept close guard by him, and rode where he rode, being about a thousand armed men, came and rushed with closed ranks upon the English ; and with the weight of their good horses, and the blows the knights gave, broke the press of the enemy, and scattered the crowd before them, the good duke lead- ing them on in front. Many piirsutd and many fled ; many were the Englishmen who fell around, and were trampled under the horses, crawling upon the earth, and not able to rise. Many of the richest and noblest men fell in the rout, but still the English rallied in places, smote down those whom they reached, and main- tained the combat the best they could, beating down the men and killing the horses. One Englishman watched the duke, and plotted to kill him ; he would have struck him with his lance, but he could not, for the duke struck him first, and felled him to the earth. '•Loud was now the clamor, and great the slaughter ; many a soul then quitted the body it inhabited. The living marched over the heaps of dead, and each side was weary of striking. He charged on who could, and he who could no longer strike still pushed forward. The strong struggled with the strong ; some failed, others triumphed ; the cowards fell back, the brave pressed on ; and sad was his fate who fell in the midst, for he had little chance of rising again ; and many in truth fell who never rose at all, being crushed under the throng. "And now the Normans had pressed on so far, that at last they had reached the standard. There Harold had remained , defend- ing himself to the utmost ; but he was sorely wounded in his eye by the arrow, and suffered grievous pain from the blow. An armed man came in the throng of the battle, and struck him on the ven- taille of his helmet, and beat him to the ground ; and as he sought to recover himself, a knight beat him down again, striking him on the thick of his thigh down to the bone. ' ' Gurth saw the English falling aroimd, and that there was no remedy. He saw his race hastening to ruin, and despaired of any aid; he would have fled, but could not, for the throng continually increased. And the duke pushed on till he reached him, and BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 173 atrack him with great force. Whether he died of that blow I know not, but it was said that he fell under it, and rose no more. " The standard was beaten down, the golden standard was taken, and Harold and the best of his friends were slain; but there was so much eagerness, and throng of so many around, seeking to kill him, that I know not who it was that slew him. ' " The English were in great trouble at having lost their king, and at the duke's having conquered and beat down the standard; but they still fought on, and defended themselves long, and in fact till the daj' drew to a close. Then it clearly appeared to all that the standard was lost, and the news had spread throvighout the army that Harold, for certain, was dead; and all saw that there was no longer any hope, so they left the field, and those fled who could. " William fought well; many an assault did he lead, many ablow did he give, and many receive, and many fell dead under his hand. Two horses were killed under him, and he took a third when neces- sary, so that he fell not to the ground, and lost not a drop of blood, But whatever any one did, and whoever lived or died, this is cer- tain, that William conquered, and that many of the English fled from the field, and many died on the spot. Then he returned thanks to God, and in his pride ordered his standard to be brought and set np on high where the English standard had stood; and that was the signal of his having conquered, and beaten down the standard. And he ordered his tent to be raised on the spot among the dead, and had his meat brought thither, and his supper pre- pared there. " Then he took of his armor; and the barons and knights pages and squires came, when he had unstrung his shield; and they took the helmet from his head, and the hauberk from his back, and saw the heavy blows upon his shield, and how his helmet was dinted in, and all greatly wondered, and said ' Such a baron (ber) never bestrode war-horse, nor dealt such blows, nor did such feats of arms; neither has there been on earth such a knight since Eollant and Oliver.' "Thus they lauded and extolled him greatly, and rejoiced in what they saw, but grieving also for their friends who were slain in the battle. And the duke stood meanwhile among them, of noble stature and mien, and rendered thanks to the king of glorj', through whom he had the victory; and thanked the knights around him, mourning also frequently for the dead. And he ate and drank among the dead, and made his bed that night upon the field. "The morrow was Sunday; and those who had slept upon the field of battle, keeping watch around and suffering great fatigue, be- stirred themselves at break of day, and sought out and buried such of the bodies of their friends as they might find. The noble ladies of the land also came, some to seek their husbands, and others their fathers, sons, or brothers. They bore the bodies to their villages, and interred them at the churches; and the clerks and priests of 174 DECISIVE BATTLES. the country were ready, and at the request of their frienas, cook the bodies that were found, and i)repared graves and lay them therein. "King Harohl was carried and buried at Varham; but I know not who it was that bore him thither, neither do I know who buried him. Many remained on the field, and many had fled in the night. Such is a Norman account of the buttle of Hastings,* which does full justice to the valor of the Saxons as well rsto the skill and bravery of the victors. It is inc'sed evident that the loss of the bat- tle by the English was owing to the wound which Harold received in the afternoon, and which miist have incapacitated him from effec- tive command. When we remember that he had himself just won the battle of Stamford Bridge over Harold Hardrada by the maneu- ver of a feigned flight, it is impossible to suppose that ho could be deceived by the same stratagem on the part of the Normans at Hastings. But his men, when deprived of his control, would very naturally be led by their inconsiderate ardor into the pursuit that proved so fatal to them. All the narratives of the battle, however much they vary as to the precise time and manner of Harold's fall, eulogize the generalshij) and the personal prowess which he dis- played, until the fatal arrow struck him. The skill with which he had posted his army was proved both by the slaughter which it cost the Normans to force the position, and also by the desperate rally which some of the Saxons made after the battle in the forest in the rear, in which they cut off a large niimber of the pursuing Normans. This circumstance is particularly mentioned by William of Poic- tiers, the Conqueror's own chaplain. Indeed, if Harold, or either of his brothers, had survived, the remains of tlie English army might have formed again in the wood, and could at least have ef- fected an orderly retreat, and jjrolonged the war. But both Gurth, and Leofwine, and all the bravest Thanes of Southern England lay dead on Senlac, around their fallen king and the fallen standard of their country. The exact number that perished on the Saxon side is unknown ; but we read that on the side of the victors, out of six- sixty thousand men who had been engaged, no less than a fourth perished. So well had the English billmen "plyed the ghastly blow," and so sternly had the Saxon battle-axe cloven Norman casque and mail.f The old historian Daniel justly as well as for- cibly remark',}; "Thus was tried, by the gret t assize of God's judgment in battle, the right of power betweeu f he English and * In the preceding pages I have woven together the purpureos pannos ' of the old chronlpler In so doing, I have largely avalK,^ myself of Mr Kdgar 'J aylor's version of that part of the '• Roman de liou " which describes the conquest, liy giving engravings from the i.ayeux 'Japestry, and by his ex- cellent notes, Mr. 'I'aylor has added much to the value and Interest of his volume. t 'the Conqueror's Chaplain caUs the Saxon battle-axes " ssevlsshnae "•ecures." X As cited In the ' ■ Pictorial History.' SYNOPSIS OF EIGHTS. ETC. 17S Norman nations; a battle the most memorable of all others; and, however miserably lost, yet most nobly fought on the part of Eng- land. Many a pathetic legend was told in aftsr years respecting the discovery and the burial of the corpse of oiir last Saxon king. The main circumstances, though they seem to vary, are perhaps recon- cilable. * Two of the monks of Waltham Abbey, which Harold had founded a little time before his election to the throne, had accom- panied him to the battle. On the morning after the slaughter, they begged and gained permission of the Conqueror to search for the body of their benefactor. The Norman soldiery and camp- followers bad stripped and gashed the slain, and the two monks vainly strove to recognize from among the mutilat:d and gory heaps around them the features of their former king. They sent for Harold's mistress, Edith, surnamed "the Fair," and "the swan- necked," to aid them. The eye of iove jsroved keener than the eye of gratitude, and the Saxon lady even in that Aceldama knew her Harold. The king's mother now sought the victorious Norman, and begged the dead body o: her son. But William at first answered in hia wrath and the hardness of his heart, that a man who had been false to his word rJid his religion should have no other sepulcher than the sand of t]ie shore. He added, with a sneer, "Harold mounted guard on the coast while he was alive, he may continue his guard now he is dead." Tbe taunt was an unintentional eulogy ; and a grave washed by the spray of the Sussex waves would have been the noblest burial-place lor the martyr of Saxon freedom. But Harold's mother was urgent in her lamentations and her prayers ; the Conqueror relented : like Achilles, he gave up tha dead body of his fallen foe to a parent's supplications, and the remains of King Harold were deposited with regal honors in Wal- tham Abbey. On Christmas day in the same year William the Conqueror was crowned at London King of England. Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1066, AKD Joan of Aec's Victoey at Okkeans, a.d. 1429. A.D. 10G6-1087. Reign of William Lne Conqueror. Frequent risin' s of the English against him, which are quelled with merci- less rigor. 109G. The first Crusade. * See them couected m ..ingarrt, l, 452. ei sea. Thierry, i.,?99; Sharer. I'umer, t., 82; and urstolre de Xormandle, par Llepruet, p. '-H2. 1 76 DECISIVE BA TTLES. 1112. Commencement of the disputes about investures between the emperors and the popes. 1140. Foundation of the city of Lubec, whence originated the Hanseatic League. Commencement of the feuds in Italy between the Guelfs and the Ghibellines. 1146. The second Crusade. 1154. Henry II. becomes King of England. Under him Thomas a Becket is made Archbishop of Canterbury : the first instance of any man of the Saxon race being raised to high office in Church or State since the Conquest. 1170. Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, lands with an English army in Ireland. 1189. Kichard Cceur de Lion becomes Ring of England. He and King PhiliiD Augustus of France join in the third Crusade. 1199-1204. On the death of King Richard, his brother John claims and makes himself master of England and Normandy, and the other large continental possessions of the early Plantagenet princes. Philip Augustus asserts the cause of Prince Arthur, John's nephew, against him. Arthur is murdered, but the French king continues the war against John, and conquers from him Normandy, Brittany, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, and Poictiers. 1215. The barons, the freeholders, the citizens, and the yeomen of England rise against the tyranny of John and his foreign favor- ites. They compel him to sign Magna Charta. This is the commencement of our nationality: for our history from this time forth is the history of a national life, then complete and still in being. All English history before this period is a mere history of elements, of their collisions, and of the jDrocesses of their fusion. For upward of a century after the Conquest, Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon had kept aloof from each other: the one in haughty scorn, the other in sullen abhorrence. They were two peoples, though living in the same land. It is not until the thirteenth century, the period of the reigns of John and his son and grand- son, that we can perceive the existence of any feeling of common nationality among them. But in studying the history of these reigns, we read of the old dissensions no longer. The Saxon no more appears in civil war against the Norman, the Norman no longer scorns the language of the Saxon, or refuses to bear together with him the name of Englishman. No part of the community think themselves foreigners to another part. They feel that they are all one people, and they have learned to unite their efforts for the common purpose of protecting the rights and promoting the welfare of all. The fortunate loss of the Duchy of Normandy in John's reign greatly promoted these new feelings. Thenceforth our barons' only homes were in England. One language had, in the reign of Henry III., become the language of the land, and that, also, had then assumed the form in which we still possess it. One law, in the eye of which all freemen are equal without die- SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. Ill tinction of race, was modeled, and steadily enforced, and still continues to form the ground-work of our jiidicial system.* 1273. Rodolph of Hapsburg chosen Emperor of Germany. 1283. Edward I. conquers Wales. 1346. Edward III. invades France, and gains the battle of Cressy. 1356. Battle of Poictiers. 1360. Treaty of Bretigny between England and France. By it Edward III. renounces his pretensions to the French crown. The treaty is ill kept, and indecisive hostilities continue between the forces of the two countries. 1414. Henry V. of England claims the crown of France, and resolves to invade and conquer that kingdom. At this time France was in the most deplorable state of weakness and siiffering, from the factions that raged among her nobility, and from the cruel oppressions which the rival nobles practiced on the mass of the community. "The people were exhausted by taxes, civil wars, and military executions; and they had fallen into that worst of all states of mind, when the independence of one's country is thought no longer a paramount and sacred object. ' What can the English do to us worse than the thing we suffer at the hands of our own princes ? ' was a common exclamation among the poor people of France."! 1415. Henry invades France, takes Harfleur, and wins the great battle of Agincourt. 1417-1419. Henry conquers Normandy. The French Dauphin assassinates the Duke of Burgundy, the most powerful of the French nobles, at Montereau. The successor of the murdered duke becomes the active ally of the English. 1420. The treaty of Troj'es is concluded between Henry V. of England and Charles VI. of France, and Philip duke of Burgundy. By this treaty it was stipulated that Henry should marry the Princess Catharine of France; that King Charles, during his life- time, should keep the title and dignity of King of France, but that Henry should succeed him, and should at once be inti'usted with the administration of the government, and that the French crown should descend to Henry's heirs; that France and England should forever be united under one king, biat should still retain their several usages, customs, and privileges; that all the princes, peers, vassals, and communities of France should swear allegiance to Henry as their future king, and should pay him present obedi- ence as regent. That Henry should unite his arms to those of King Charles imd the Duke of Burgundy, in order to subdue the adherents of Charles, the pretended dauphin; and that these three princes should make no peace or truce with the dauphin but by the common consent of all three. • " Crea£y>5 Text Book of the Constitution," p. 4. t " Plctorlta Blst. of England," vol. 1., p. M. 178 DECISIVE BATTLES. 1421. Henry V. gains several victories over the French, who refuse to acknowledge the treaty of Troyes. His son, afterward Henry VI., is born. 1422. Henry V. and Charles VI. of France die. Henry VI. is proclaimed at Paris King of England and France. The followers of the French dauphin proclaim him Charles VII., king of France. The Duke of Bedford, the English regent in France, defeats the army of the dauphin at Crevant. 1424. The Duke of Bedford gains the great victory of Verneuil over the French partisans of the dauphin and their Scotch aux- iliaries. 1428, The English begin the siege of Orleans. CHAPTER IX. JOAN OF AEC'S VICTOET OVEE THE ENGLISH AT OELEANS, A.D. 1429. The eyes of all Europe were turned toward this scene, where It was rea^ sonahly supposed the French were to make their last stand for maintaining' the independence of their monarchy and the rights of their sovereign.— Hume. When, after their victory at Salamis, the generals of the various Greek states voted the prizes for distinguished individual merit, each assigned the first place of excellence to himself, but they all concurred in giving their second votes to Themistocles.* This was looked on as a decisive proof that Themistocles ought to be ranked first of all. If we were to endeavor, by a similar test, to ascertain which European nation had contributed the most to the progress of Eitropean civilization, we should find Italy, Germany, England, and Spain each claiming the first degree, but each also naming France as clearly next in merit. It is impossible to deny her par- amount importance in history. Besides the formidable part that she has for nearly threo centuries played, as the Bellona of the European commonwealth of states, her influence during all this period over the arts, the literature, the manners, and the feelings of mankind, has been such as to makethecrisisof her earlier forttines' a point of world-wide interest ; and it may be asserted, without exaggeration, that the future career of every nation was involved in the result of the struggle by which the unconscious heroine of France, in the beginning of the fifteenth century, rescued her country from becoming a second Ireland under the yoke of the triumphant English. * Plutarch, Vit. Them., IT. JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 179 Seldom has the extinction of a nation's independence appeared more inevitable than was the case in France when the English invaders completed their lines round Orleans, four hundred and twenty-two years ago. A series of dreadful defeats had thinned the chivalry of France, and daunted the spirits of her soldiers. A foreign king had been proclaimed in her capital ; and foreign armies of the bravest veterans, and led by the ablest captains then known in the world, occupied the fairest portions of her territory. Worse to her, even, than the fierceness and the strength of her foes, were the factions, the vices and the crimes of her own children. Het native prince was a dissohite triiler, stained with assassination of the most powerful noble of the land, whose son, in revejige, had leagued himself with the enemy. Many more of her nobility, many of her prelates, her magistrates, and riilers, had sworn fealty to the English king. The condition of the peasantry amid the general prevalence of anarchy and brigandage, which were added to the customary devastations of contending armies, was wretched beyond the power of language to describe. The sense of terror and wretchedness seemed to have extended itself even to the brute creation. "In sooth, the estate of France was then most miserable. There appeared nothing but a horrible face, confusion, poverty, desola- tion, solitarinesse; and feare. The lean and bare laborers in the country did terrifie even theeves themselves, who had nothing left them to spoile but the carkasses of these poore miserable creatiires, wandering up and down like ghostes drawne out of their graves. The least farmes and hamlets were fortilied by these robbers, Eng- lish, Bourguegnons, and French, every one striving to do his worst : all men-of-war were well agreed to sjioile the countryman and merchant. Even the caiiell, accustonied io the lariavebeU, thesigne of the enemy's approach, would run home of tliemselves without any guide by this accustomed misery."* In the autumn of 1428, the English, who were already masters of all France north of the Loire, prepared their forces for the conquest of the southern provinces, which yet adhered to the cause of the dauphin. The city of Orleans, on the banks of that river, w^s looked upon as the last stronghold of the French national i^arty. If the English could once obtain possession of it their victorioi;s progress through the residue of the kingdom seemed free from ary serious obstacle. Accordingly the Earl of Salisbury, one of the bravest and most experienced of the English generals, who had been trained iinder Henry V., marched to the attack of the all-im- portant city ; and, after reducing several places of inferior conse- quence in the neighborhood, appeared with his army before its walls on the 12th of October, 1428. The city of Orleans itself was on the north side of the Loire, but • De Serres, quoted In the Notes to Southey's " Joan of Arc." 180 DECISIVE BATTLES. its suburbs extended fnr on the southern side, and a strong bridge connected them with the town. A fortification, which in modern military phrase would be termed a tete-du-pont, defended the bridge head on the southern side, and two towers, called the Tourelles, were built on tlie bridge itself, at a little distance from the tete-du-pont. Indeed, the solid masonry of the bridge termin- ated at the Tourelles; and the communication thence with the tete- du-pont and the southern shore was by means of a draw-bridge. The Tourelles and the tete-du-pont formed together a strong forti- fied post, capable of containing a garrison of considerable strength; and so long as this was in possession of the Orleannais, they coiild communicate freely with the southern provinces, the inhabitants of which, like the Orleannais themselves, supported the cause of their dau^Dhin against the foreigners. Lord Salisbury rightly judged the capture of the Tourelles to be the most material step toward the reduction of the city itself. Accordingly, he directed his principal operations against this post, and after some severe repulses, he carried the Tourelles by storm on the 23d of October. The French, however, broke down the arches of the bridge that •were nearest to the north bank, and thus rendered a direct assault from the Tourelles upon the city impossible. But the possession of this post enabled the English to distress the town greatly by a battery of cannon which they planted there, and which commanded some of the principal streets. It has been observed by Hume that this is the first siege in which any important use appears to have been made of artillery. And even at Orleans both besiegers and besieged seem to have employed their cannons merely as instruments of destruction against their enemy's men, and not to have trusted them as engines of demoli- tion against their enemy's walls and works. The efficacy of cannon in breaching solid masonry was taught Europe by the Turks a few years afterward, in the memorable siege of Constantinoi^le.* In our French wars, as in the wars of the classic nations, famine was. looked on as the surest weapon to compel the submission of a well- walled town ; and the great object of the besiegers was to effect a complete circumvallation. The great ambit of the walls of C'rleans, and the facilities which the river gave for obtaining success and supplies, rendered the capture of the town by this process a matter of great difficvilty. Nevertheless, Lord Salisbury, and Lord Suffolk, whosiacceeded him in command of the English after his death by a cannon ball, carried on the necessary work with great skill and resolution. Six strongly-fortified posts, called bastilles, were formed at certain intervals round the town, and the purpose of the English engineers was to draw stronglines between them. During the winter little progress was made with the entrenchments, but • The occasional employment of artillery against slight defenses, as at Jajgeau Ip tJ29, Is no real exception. JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 181 when the spring of 1429 came, the English resumed their work with activity ; the communications between the city and the country became more difficult, and the approach of want began already to be felt in Orleans. The besieging force also fared hardly for stores and provisions, ■until relieved by the efiects of a brilliant victory which Sir John Fastolfe, one of the best English generals, gained at Rouvrai, near Orleans, a few days after Ash Wednesday, 1429. With only sis- teen hundred fighting men. Sir John completely defeated an army of French and Scots, four thousand strong, which had been col- lected for the purpose of aiding the Orleannais and harassing the besiegers. After this encounter, which seemed decisively to con- fiirm the superiorit)' of the English in battle over their adversaries, Fastolfe escorted large supplies of stores and food to Suffolk's camp and the spirits of the English rose to the highest pitch at the pros- pect of the speedy capture of the city before them, and the conse- quent subjection of all France beneath their arms. The Orleannais now, in their distress, ofiered to surrender the city into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy, who, though the ally of the English, was yet one of their native princes. The Regent Bedford refused these terms, and the speedy submission of the city to the English seemed inevitable. The Dauphin Charles, who was now at Chinon with his remnant of a court despaired of continuing any longer the struggle for his crown, and was only preventf d from abandoning the country by the more masculine spirits of his mistress and his queen. Yet neither they nor the boldest of Charles's captains, could have shown him where to find resources for prolonging the war ; and least of all could any human skill have predicted the quarter whence rescue was to come to Orleans and to France. In the village of Domremy, on the borders of Lorraine, there was a poor peasant of the name of Jacques d'Arc, respected in his station of life, and who had reared a family in virtuous habits and in the practice of the strictest devotion. His eldest daughter was named by her parents Jeannette, but she was called Jeanne by the French, which was Latinized into Johanna, and Anglicized into Joan.* At the time when Joan first attracted attention, she was about eighteen years of age. She was naturally of a susceptible disposi- tion, which diligent attention to the legends of saints and tales of fairies, aided by the dreamy loneliness of her life while tending her father's flocks.f had made peculiarly prone to enthusiastic fer- • " Respondlt quod In partlbus buIs vocabatur Johanneta, et postquam venlt In Franclam vocata est .Johanna."— Proces rfe Jeanne d' Arc. 1., p. 46 t Southey, In one of the speeches which he puts In the mouth of Joan of Arc, has made her beautifully describe the effect on her mind of the scenery In which she dwelt. " Here In solitude and peace 182 DECISIVE BATTLES. vor. At the same time she was eminent for piety and purity of soul, and for her compassionate gentleness to the sick ana the dis- tressed. The district where she dwelt had escaped comparatively free from the ravages of war, but the approach of roving bands of Bur- gundian or English troops frequently spread terror through Dom- remy. Once the village had been plundered by some of these marauders, and Joan and her family had been driven from their home, and forced to seek refuge for a time at Neufchateau. The peasantry in Domremy were principally attached to the house of Orleans and the dauphin, and all the miseries which France en- dured were there imputed to the Burgundian faction and their allies, the English, who were seeking to enslave unhappy France. Thus, from infancy to girlhood. Joan had heard continually of the woes of the war, and had herself witnessed some of the wretchedness that it caused. A feeling of intense jDatriotism grew in her with her growth. The deliverance of France from the English was the subject of her reveries by day and her dreams by night. Blended with these aspirations were recollections of the miraculoiis interpositions of Heaven in favor of the oppressed, which she had learned from the legends of her church. Her faith was undoubting ; her prayers were fervent. "She feared no dan- ger, for she felt no sin," and at length she believed herself to have received the siipernatural inspiration which she sought. According to her own narrative, delivered by her to her merciless inquisitors in the time of her captivity and aiaproaching death, she was about thirteen years old when her revelations commenced. Her own words describe them best.* "At the age of thirteen, a voice from God came to her to help her in ruling herself, and that My soul was nursed, amid the loveliest scenes Of unpolluted nature. Sweet it was. As the white mists of morning roll'd away, To see the mountain's wooded heights appear Dark in the early dawn, and mark its slope With gorse-flowers glowing, as the rising sun On the golden ripeness pour'u a deepening light, Pleasant at noon beside the vocal brook To lay me down, and watch the floating clouds, And shape to Fancy's wild simihtudes Their ever varying forms ; and oh ! how sweet, To drive my liock at evening to the fold. And hasten to our little hut. and hear The voice of kindness bid me welcome home." The only foundation for the story told by the Burgundian partisan, Mon- strelet, and adopted by Hume, of Joan having been brought up as a servant, is the eircumstance of her having been once, with the rest of her family, obliged to take refuge in an auberne In Neufchateau for fifteen days, when a party of Burgundian cavalry made an Incursion Into Domremy. (See the JOAN OF ARC'S VIOTORY AT OB LEANS. 183 veice came to her about the hour of noon, in summer time, while she was in her father's garden. And she had fasted the day before. And she heard the voice on her right, in the direction of the church ; and when she heard the voice, she saw also a bright light." Afterward St. Michael, and St. Margaret, and St. Catha- rine appeared to her. They were always in a halo of glory ; she could see that their heads were crowned with jewels ; and she heard their voices, which were sweet and mild. She did not distinguish their arms or limbs. She heard them more frequently than she saw them ; and the usual time when she heard them was when the church bells were sounding for prayer. And if she was in the woods when she heard them, she could plainly distinguish their voices drawing near to her. When she thought that she discerned the Heavenly Voices, she knelt down, and bowed herself to the ground, 'i heir presence gladdened her even to tears ; and after they departed, she wept be- cause they had not taken her back to Paradise. They always spoke soothingly to her. They told her that France would be saved, and that she was to save it. Such were the visions and the voices tliat moved the spirit of the girl of thirteen ; and as she grew older, they became more frequent and more clear. At last the tidings of the siege of Orleans reached Domremy. Joan heard her parents and neighbors talk of the sufferings of its population, of the ruin which its capture would bring on their lawful sovereign, and of the distress of the dauphin and his court. Joan's heart was sorely troubled at the thought of the fate of Orleans ; and her Voices now ordered her to leave her home ; and warned her that she was the instrument chosen by Heaven for driving away the English from that city, and for taking the dauphin to be anointed king of the Rheims. At length she informed her parents of her divine mission, and told them that she miist go to the Sire de Baudricourt, who commanded at Vaucouleurs, and who was the appointed person to bring her into the presence of the king, whom she was to save. Neither the anger nor the grief of her parents, who said they would rather see her drowned than exposed to the contamination of the camp, could move her from her j)ur- pose. One of her uncles consented to take her to Vaucouleurs, where De Baudricourt at first thought her mad, and derided her , but by degrees he was led to believe, if not in her inspiration, at least in her enthusiasm, and in its possible utility to the dauphinV cause. The inhabitants of Vaucouleurs were completely won over to her side by the piety and devoutness which she displayed, and by her firm assurance in the truth of her mission. She told them that it was God's will that she should go to the king, and that no one but her could save the kingdom of France. She said that she her- self would rather remain with her poor mother, and spin ; but the Lord had ordered her foi-th. The fame of " The Maid," qs she was 184 DECISIVE BATTLES. termed, the renown of her holiness, and of her mission, spread far and wide. Baudricourt sent her with an escort to Chinon, where the Dauphin Charles was dallying away his time. Her Voices had bidden her assume the arms and the apparel of a knight ; and the wealthiest inhabitant of Vaucouleurs had vied with each other in equipping her with war-horse, armor, and sword. On reaching 'Chinon, she was, after some delay, admitted into the presence of the dauphin. Charles designedly dressed himself far less richly than many of his courtiers were appareled, and mingled with them, when Joan was introduced in order to see if the Holy Maid would address her exhortations to the wrong person. But she in- stantly singled him out, and kneeling before him, said, "Most noble dauphin, the King of Heaven announces to you by me that you shall be anointed and crowned king in the city of Eheims, and that you shall be his viceregent in France." His features may probably have been seen by her previously in portraits, or have been described to her by others ; but she herself believed that her Voices inspired her when she addressed the king ;* and the report soon spread abroad that the Holy Maid had found the king by a miracle ; and this, with many other similar rumors, augmented the renown and influence that she now rapidly acquired. The state of public feeling in France was now favorable to an enthiasiastic belief in a divine interposition in favor of the party that had hitherto been unsuccessful and oppressed. The humil- iations which had befallen the French royal family and nobility were looked on as the just judgments of God upon them for their vice and impiety. The misfortunes that had come upon France as a nation were believed to have been drawn down by national sins. The English, who had been the instruments of Heaven's wrath against France, seemed now, by their pride and cruelty, to be fitting objects of it themselves. France in that age was a pro- foundly religious country. There was ignorance, there was su- perstition, there was bigotry; but there was Faith — a faith that itself worked true miracles, even while it believed in unreal ones. At this time, also one of those devotional movements began among the clergy in France, which from time to time occur in national churches, without it being possible for the historian to assign any adeqxiate human cause for their immediate date or extension. Numberless friars and priests traversed the niral districts and towns of France, preaching to the people that they must seek from Heaven a deliverance from the i^illages of the soldiery and the in- solence of the foreign oppressors.! The idea of a Providence that works only by general laws was wholly alien to the feelings of the age. Every political event as well as every natural pheno- menon, was believed to be the immediate result of a special man- * " Proces de Jeanne d'Arc,"' vol. 1., p. 56. t See Siamondl, vol. xUl., p. lU; Mlclielet, vol. v., livre, 8, JOAI^ OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 185 date of God. This led to the belief that his holy angels and saints were constantly employed in executing his commands and mingling in the affairs of men. The Church encouraged these feelings, and at the same time sanctioned the concurrent popular belief that hosts of evil spirits were also ever actively interposing in the current of earthly events, with whom sorcerers and wizards could league themselves, and thereby obtain the exercise of super- natural power. Thus all things favored the influence which Joan obtained both over friends and foes. The Fi'ench nation as well as the English and the Burgundians, readily admitted that superhuman beings inspii-ed her; the only question was whether these beings were good or evil angels; whether she brought with her "r.irs from heaven or blasts from hell." This question seemed to her coun- trymen to be decisively settled in her favor by the austere sanctity of her life, by the holiness of her conversation, bvit still more by her exemijlary attention to all the services and rites of the Church. The dauphin at first feared the injury that might be done to his cause if he laid himself open to the charge of having leagued him- self with a sorceress. Every imaginable test therefore, was resorted to in order to set Joan's orthodoxy and purity beyond suspicion. At lastCharles and his advisers felt safe in accepting her services as those of a true and \'irtuous Christian daughter of the Holy Church. It is indeed probable that Charles himself and some of his coun- Belors may have suspected Joan of being a mere enthusiast, and it is certain that Dunois, and others of the best generals, took considerable latitude in obeying or deviating from the military orders that she gave. But over the mass of the people and the soldiery her influence was unbounded. While Charles and his doctors of theology, and court ladies, had been deliberating as to recognizing or dismissing the Maid, a considerable period had passed away, during which a small army, the last gleamings, as it seemed, of the English sword, had been assembled at Blois, un- der Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and other chiefs, who to their natural valor were now beginning to unite the wisdom that is taught by misfortune. It was resolved to send Joan with this force and a convoy of provisions to Orleans. The distress of that city had now become urgent. But the communication ■with the open country was not entirely cut off : the Orleannais had heard of the Holy Maid whom Providence had raised up for their deliv- erance, and their messengers earnestly imiilored the dauphin to send her to them without delay. Joan appeared at the camp at Blois, clad in a new suit of bril- liant white armor, mounted on a stately black war-horse, and with a lance in her right hand, which she Lad learned to wield with skill and grace.* Her head was unhelmeted; so that all could • See tUe description of her by Gul de Laval, quoted in the note to Mlche^ 186 DECISIVE BATTLES. behold her fair and expressive features, her deep-set and earnest eyes, and her long black hair, which was parted across her fore- head, and bound by a ribbon behind her back. Blie wore at her side a small battle-axe, and the consecrated sword marked on the blade with hve crosses, which had at her bidding been taken for her Irom the shrine of St. Catharine at Fierbois. A page carried her banner, which she had caused to be made and embroidered as htr Voices enjoined. It was white satin,* strewn with fleurs-de-lis; and on it were the words, " Jhesls Maeia," and the representa- tion of the Saviour in his glory. Joan afterward generally bore her banner herself in battle; she said that though she loved her sword much, she loved her banner forty times as much; and she loved to carry it, because it could not kill any one. Thus accoutered, she came to lead the troops of France, who looked with soldierly admiration on her well-proportioned and upright figure, the skill with which she managed her war-horse, and the easy grace with which she handled her weapons. Her military education had been short, but she had availed herself of it well. She had also the good sense to interfere little with the maneuvers of the troops, leaving these things to Dunois, and others whom she had the discernment to recognize as the best of&cers in the camp. Her tactics in action were simple enough. As she herself described it, "I used to say to them, 'Go boldly in among the English,' and then I used to go boldly in myself. "f Such, as she told ber inquisitors, was the only spell she used, and it was one of power. But wliile interfering little wiih the mili- tary discipline of the troops, in all matters of moral discipline she was inflexibly strict. All the abandoned followers of the camp were driven away. She compelled both generals and soldiers to attend regularly at confessional. Her chaplain and other priests marched with the army under her orders; and at every halt, an altar was set up and the sacrament administered. No oath or foul language passed without punishment or censure. Even the roughest and most hardened veterans obeyed her. They put ofi" for a time the bestial coarseness which had grown on them dur- ing a life of bloodshed and rapine; they felt that they must go forth in a new spirit to a new career, and acknowledged the beauty of the holiness in which the heaven-sent Maid was leading them to certain victory. Joan marched from Blois on the 25th of April with a convoy of provisions for Orleans, accompanied by Dunois, La Hire, and the other chief captains of the French, and on the evening of the 28th they approached the town. In the words of the old chronicler let, p. 69 ; and see the account of the banner at Orleans, which Is believed to bear an authentic portrait of the Maid, In Murray's " Hand-book tor France," p. 175. * " Proces de Jeanne d'Arc,' vol, 1.. p. 238. t Id. life. JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 187 Hall:* "The Englishmen, percemng that thei -within could not long continue for faiite of vitaile and ponder, kepte not their watche so diligently ns thei were accustomed, nor scoured now the countrey environed as thei before had ordained. Whiche neg- ligence the citizens shut in perceMng, sent worde thereof to the Frencl^ captaines, which, with Pucelle, in the dedde tyme of the nighte, and in a greate rayne and thundere, with all their vitaile and artillery, entered into the citie." When it was d .y, the Maid rode in solemn procession through the city, clad in complete armor, and mounted on a white horse. Dunois was by her side, and all the bravest Ivnights of her army and of the garrison followed in her train. The whole population thronged around her; and men, women, and children strove to touch her garments, or her banner, or her charger. They poured forth blessings on her, whom they already considered their deliv- erer. In the words used by two of them afterward before the tribunal which reversed the sentence, but could not restore the life of the Virgin-martyr of France, "the people of Orleans, when they first saw her in their city, thought that it was an angel from heaven that ha I come down to save them." Joan spoke gently in reply to their acclamations and addresses. She told them to fear God, and trust in him for safety from the fury of their enemies. She first went to the principal church, where Te Deuni was chanted; and then she took up her abode at the house of Jacques Bourgier, one of the principal citizens, and whose wife was a matron of good repute. She refused to attend a splendid banquet which had been provided for her, and passed nearly all her time in prayer. When it was known by the English that the Maid was in Orleans, their minds were not less occupied about her than were the minds of those in the city ; but it was in a very different spirit. The English believed in her supernatural mission as firmly as the French did, but they thought her a sorceress who had come to overthrow them by her enchantments. An old prophecj', which told that a damsel from Lorraine was to save France, had long been current, and it was known and applied to Joan by foreigners as well as by the natives. For months the English had heard of the coming Maid, and the tales of miracles which she was said to have wrought have been listened to by the rough yeomen of the English camp with anxious curiosity and secret awe. She had sent a her- ald to the English generals before she marched for Orleans, and he had summoned the English generals in the name of the Most High to give up to the Maid, who was sent by Heaven, the keys of the French cities which they had wrongfully taken ; and he also solemnly adjured the English troops, whether archers, or men ot the companies of war, or gentlemen, or others, who were before the city of Orleans, to depart thence to their homes, under peril • Hall, t. 12T. 188 DECISIVE BATTLES. of being visited by the judgment of God. On her arrival in Or- leans, Joan sent another similar message ; but the English scoffed at her from their towers, and threatened to burn her heralds. She determined, before she shed the blood of the besiegers, to re- peat the warning with her own voice ; and accordingly, she mounted one of the boulevards of the town, which was within hearing of the Tourelles, and thence she spoke to the English, and bade them depart otherwise they would meet with shame and woe. Sir "William Gladsdale (whom the French call Ulacidas) commanded the English post at the Tourelles, and he and another English ofiQcer replied by bidding her go home and keep her cows, and by ribald jests, that brought tears of shame and indignation into her eyes. But, though the English leaders vaunted aloud, the effect produced on their army by Joan's presence in Orleans was proved four days after her arrival, when, on the approach of re-enforcements and stores to the town, Joan and La Hire marched out to meet them, and escorted the long train of provision wagons safely into Orleans, between the bastilles of the English, who cowered behind their walls instead of charging fiercely and fear- lessly, as had been their wont, on any French band that dared to show itself within reach. Thus far she had prevailed without striking a blow ; but the time was now come to test her covirage amid the horrors of actual slaughter. On the afternoon of the day on which she had escorted the re-enforcements into the city, while she was resting fatigued at home, Dunois had seized an advantageous opportunity of at- tacking the English bastille of St. Loup, and a fierce assault of the Orleannais had been made on it, which the English garrison of the fort stubbornly resisted. Joan was roused by a sound which she believed to be that of her Heavenly Voices ; she called for her arms and horse, and, quickly equipping herself, she mounted to ride off to where the fight was raging. In her haste she had for- gotten her banner ; she rode back, and, without dismounting, had it given to her from the window, and then she galloped to the gate whence the sally had been made. On her way she met some of the wounded French who had been carried back from the fight. Ah !" she exclaimed, "I never can see French blood flow without my hair standing on end." She rode oxit of the gate, and met the tide of her countrymen, who had been repulsed from the English fort, and were flying back to Orleans in confusion. At the sight of the Holy Maid and her banner they rallied, and renewed the assault. Joan rode forward at their head, waving her banner and cheering them on. The English quailed at what they believed to be the charge of hell ; Saint Loup was stormed, and its defenders put to the sword, except some few, whom Joan succeeded in sav- ing. AD her woman's gentleness returned when the combat was over. It w»s the first time that she had ever seen a battle-field. She wept at the sight of so many bleeding corpses ; and her tears JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 18» flowed doubly -when she reflected that they were the bodies of Christian men who had died without confession. The next day was Ascension day, and it was passed by Joan in prayer. But on the following morrow it was resolved by the chiefs of the garrison to attack the English forts on the south of the river. For this purpose they crossed the river in boats, and after some severe fighting, in which the Maid was wounded in the heel, both the English bastilles of the Augustins and St. Jean de Blanc were captured. The Tourelles were now the only post which the besiegers held on the south of the river. But that post was for- midably strong, and by its command of the bridge, it was the key to the deliverance of Orleans. It was known that a fresh English army was approaching under Fastolfe to re-enforce the besiegers, and should that army arrive while the Tourelles were yet in the possession of their comrades, there was great peril of all the advan- tages which the French had gained being nullified, and of the siege being again actively carried on. It was resolved, therefore, by the French to assail the Tourelles at once, while the enthusiasm which the presence and the heroic valor of the Maid had created was at its height. But the enterprise was difficult. The rampart of the tete-du-pont, or landward bul- wark, of the Tourelles was steep and high, and Sir John Gladsdale occupied this all-important fort with five hundred archers and men-at-arms, who were the very flower of the English army. Early in the morning of the seventh of May, some thousands of the best French troops in Orleans heard mass and attended the confessional by Joan's orders, and then crossing the river in boats, as on the preceding day, they assailed the bulwark of the Tou- relles ' with light hearts and heavy hands." But Gladsdale's men, encouraged by their bold and skilful leader, made a resolute and able defense. The Maid planted her banner on the edge of the fosse, and then springing down into the ditch, she placed the first ladder afiainst the wall and began to mount. An English archer sent an arrow at her, which pierced her corslet, and wounded her severely between the neck and shoulder. She fell bleeding from the ladder ; and the English were leaping down from the wall to capture her, but her followers bore her ofi". She was carried to the rear, and laid upon the grass; her armor was taken ofi", and the anguish of her woi;nd and the sight of her blood made her at first tremble and weep. But her confidence in her celestial mission soon returned : her patron saints seemed to stand before her, and re- assure her. She sat up and drew the arrow out with her own hands. Some of the soldiers who stood by wished to staunch the blood by sayiiig a charm over the wound ; but she forbade them, saying that she did not wish to be cured by iinh allowed means. She had the wound dressed with a little oil, and then bidding her confessor come to her, she betook herself to prayer. In the mean while, the English m the bulwark of the Tourelles 190 DECISIVE BATTLES. had repulsed tlie oft-renewed efforts of the French to scale the wall. Dunois, who commanded the assailants, was at last dis- couraged, and gave orders for a retreat to be sounded. Joan sent for him and the other generals, and implored them not to despair. "By my God," she said to them, "you shall soon enter in there. Do not doubt it. When you see my banner wave again up to the wall, to your arms again ! for ^the fort is yours. For the present, rest a little, and take some food and drink." " They did so," says the old chronicler of the siege, * " for they obeyed her marvelously." The famtness caused by her wound had now passed off, and she headed the French in another rush against the bulwark. The English, who had thought her slain, were alarmed at her reap- pearance, while the French pressed furiously and fanatically for- ward. A Biscayan soldier was carrying Joan's banner. She had told the troops that directly the banner touched the wall, they should enter. The Biscayan waved the banner forward from the edge of the fosse, and touched the wall with it ; and then all the French host swarmed madly up the ladders that now were raised in all directions against the English fort. At this crisis, the efforts of the English garrison were distracted by an attack from another quarter. The French troops who had been left in Orleans had placed some planks over the broken arch of the bridge, and advanced across them to the assault of the Tourelles on the northern side. Gladsdale resolved to withdraw his men from the landward bul- wark, and concentrate his whole force in the Tourelles themselves. He was passing for this purpose across the draw-bridge that con- nected the Tourelles and the tete-du-pont, when Joan, who by this time had scaled the wall of the bulwark, called out to him, "Sur- render ! surrender to the King of Hearen ! Ah, Glacidas, you have foully wronged me with your words, but I have great pity on your soul, and the souls of your men." The Englishman, disdain- ful of her summons, was striding on across the draw-bridge, when a cannon shot from the town carried it away, and Gladsdale per- ished in the water that ran beneath. After his fall, the remnant of the English abandoned all farther resistance. Three hundred of them had been killed in the battle, and two hundred were made prisoners. The broken arch was speedily repaired by the exulting Orlean- nais, and Joan made her triumphal re-entry into the city by the bridge that had so long been closed. Every church in Orleans rang out its gratulating peal ; and throughout the night the sounds of rejoicing echoed, and bonfires blazed up from the city. But in the lines and forts which tha besiegers yet' retained on the north- ern shore, there was anxious watching of the generals, and there was desponding gloom among the soldiery. Even Talbot now counseled retreat. On the following morning the Orleannais, • "Journal du Siege d'Orleana," p. 81. JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 191 from their walls, saw the great forts called "London" and "St. Lawrence '" in flames, and witnessed their invaders busy in destroy- ing the stores and munitions which had been relied on for the destruction of Orleans. Slowly and sullenly the English army retired ; and not before it had drawn up in battle ^ray opposite to the city, as if to challenge the garrison to an encounter. The French troops we eager to go out and attack, bi;t Joan forbade it. The day was Sunday. " Li the name of God," she said, "letthem depart, and let us return thanks to God." She led the soldiers and citizens forth from Orleans, but not fo" the shedding of blood. They passed in solemn procession round the city walls, and then, while their retiring enemies were yet in sight, they knelt in thanksgiving to God for the deliverance which he had vouchsafed them. Within three months from the time of her first interview with the dauphin, Joan had fulfilled the first part of her promise, the raising of the siege of Orleans. Within three months more she had fulfilled the second part also, and had stood with her banner in her hand by the high altar at Eheims, while he was anointed and crowned as King Charles YII. of France. In the interval she had taken Jargeau, Troyes, and other strong places, and she had defeated an English army in a fair field at Patay. The enthusiasm of her countrymen knew no bounds ; but the importance of her services, and especially of her primary achievement at Orleans, may perhaps be best proved by the testimony of her enemies. There is extant a fragment of a letter from the Kegent Bedford to his royal nephew, Henry VI., in which he bewails the turn that the war has taken, and especially attributes it to the raising of the siege of Orleans by Joan. Bedford's own words, which are preserved in Kymer, * are as follows : "And alle thing there prospered for you til the tyme of the Siege of Orleans taken in hand God knoweth by what advis. "At the whichc tyme, after the- adventure fallen to the persone of iuy cousin of Salisbury, whom God assoille, there felle by the hand of God as it seemeth, a great strook upon your peuple that was assembled there in grete nombre, caused in grete partie, as y trowe, of lakiie of sadde beleve, and of unlevefulle doubte, that thei hadde of a disciple and lyme of the Feende, called the Pucelle, that iised fals enchantments and sorcerie. "The whiche strookeand discomtiture noti, oonly lessed in grete partie the nombre of your peuple there, but as well withdrewe the courage of the remenant in merveillous wyse, and couraiged your adverse partie and cnnemys to assemble them forthwith in grete nombre." When Charles had been anointed King of France, Joan believed that her mission was accomplished. And, in truth, the deliverance Vol. X , p. 4U8. 192 DECISIVE BATTLES. of FrnncG from the English, though not completed for many years afterward, was then insured. The ceremony of a royal coronation and anointment was not in those days regarded as a mere costly formality. It was believed to confer the sanction and the grace of Heaven upon the prince, who had previously ruled with mere human authority. Thenceforth he was the Lord's Anointed. Moreover, one of the difficulties that had previously lain in the way of many Frenchmen when called on to support Charles VII. was now removed. He had been publicly stigmatized, even by his own parents, as no true son of the royal race of France. The queen- mother, the English, and the partisans of Burgundy called him the "Pretender to the title of Dauphin ; '' but those who had been led to doubt his legitimacy were cured of their skepticism by the vic- tories of the Holy Maid and by the fulfillment of her pledges. They thought that Heaven had now declared itself in favor of Charles as the true heir of the crown of St. Louis, and the tales about his being spurious were thenceforth regarded as mere English calum- nies. "With this strong tide of national feeling in his favor, with victorious generals and soldiers round him, and a dispirited and divided enemy before him, he could not fail to conquer, though hi;: own imprudence and misconduct, and the stubborn valor which the English still from time to time displayed, prolonged the war in France until the civil war of the Koses broke out in England, and left France to peace and repose. Joan knelt before the French king in tl.e cathedral of Eheims, and shed tears of joy. She said that she had then fulfilled the work which the Lord had commanded her. The young girl now asked for her dismissal. She wished to return to her peasant home, to tend her parents' flocks again, and live at her own will in her native village.* She had always believed that her career would be a short one . But Charles and his captains were loth to loose the presence of one who had such influence upon the soldiery and the people. They persuaded her to stay with the army. She still showed the same bravery and zeal for the cause of France. She still was as fervent as before in her prayers, and as exemplary in all religious duties. She still heard her Heavenly Voices, but she now no longer thought herself the appointed minister of Heaven to lead her countrymen to certain victory. Our admiration for her courage and patriotism ought to be increased a hundred fold by her conduct throughout the latter part of her career, amid dangers, against which she no longer believed herself to be divinely secured. Indeed, she believed herself doomed to perish in a little more than a year ;] but she still fought on as resolutely, if not as exultingly as ever. * " Je voudrais hlen qu'il voulut me falre ramener aupres mes pere et mere, a garder leurs brebfs et betail. et falre ce que je voudrols falre.'' i " Des le commencement elle avalt dit, 'II me faut employer: J8 ns dureral qu'un an, ou guere plus.' "— Michelet, v., p, 101, JOAN OF ABC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 193 As in the case of Arminius, the interest attached to individual heroism and ■virtue makes us trace the fate of Joan of Arc after she had saved her country. She served well with Charles's army in the capture of Laon, Soissons, Comjjiegne, Beauvais, and other strong places; but in a premature attack on Paris, in September, 1429, the French were repulsed, and Joan was severely wounded. In the winter she was again in the field with some of the French troops; and in the following spring she threw herself into the fortress of Comj)iegne, which she had herself won for the French king in the i^receding autumn, and which was now besieged by a strong Burgundian force. She was taken prisoner in a sally from Compiegne, on the 24.tli of May, and was imprisoned by the Burgundians first at Arras, and then at a place called Crotoy, on the Flemish coast, until Xovember, when, for payment of a large sum of money, she was given ui) to the English, and taken to Eouen, which then was their main stronghold in France. " Sorrow It were, and shame to tell, Tlie butcliery tuat tliere befell." And the revolting details of the cruelties practiced upon this young girl may be left to those whose dutj', as avowed biogra- phers, it is to describe them.* She was tried before an ecclesi- astical tribunal on the charge of witchcraft, and on the 30th of May, 1431, she was biarned alive in the market-place at Kouen. I will add but one remark on the character of the truest heroine that the world has ever seen. If any person can be found in the present age who would join in the scoffs of Voltaire against the Maid of Orleans and the Heavenly Voices by which she believed herself inspired, let him read the life of the wisest and best man that the heathen nations prodiiced. Let him read of the Heavenly Voice by which Socra- tes believed himself to be constantly attended; which cautioned him on his waj' from the field of battle at Delium, and which from his boyhood to the time of his death, visited him with un- earthly warnings.! Let the modern reader rellect upon this; and then, unless he is prepared to term Socrates either fool or impostor, let him not dare to deride or vilify Joan of Arc. * The whole of the " Prc^es de Condemnation et de Kehahilitation de Jeanne D'Arc" has been puljiished In five volumes, by the isociete de L Hls- toire de France. All the passages from contemporary chroniclers and poets are added ; and the most ample materials are tlius given lor acciulring full Intonuii 'ihere 1. "Quarterly." t .See Cicero, de DlvlDationc, Ub. 1., sec. 41 ; and see the words of Socrates himself, In Plato, Apol. Soc: Ottjiiui ^elov zi ual dai/ioviov yiy- veraA. Ejuoi Se rovr edrtv ku naidii do^d/jevoi', $oovrj iri yiyvo/.ie'vT>, k. r. A. D.B.-7 194 DECISIVE BATTLES. Stkopsis of Events between Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, a. D. 1429, AND aiiE Defeat of tue Spanikh Armada, a.d. 1588. A.D. 1152. Final expulsion of the English from France. 1453. Constantinople taken, and the lloman empire of the East destroyed by the Tiirkish Sultan Mohammed 11. 1455. Commencement of the civil wars in England between the houses of York and Lancaster. 1479. Union of the Christiankingdomsof Spam under Ferdinand and Isabella. 1492. Capture of Grenada by Ferdinand and Isabella, and the end of the Moorish dominion in Spain. 1492. Columbus discovers the New "World. 1494. Charles VIII. of France invades Italy. 1497. Exi^edition of Vasco di Gama to the East Indies round the Cape of Good Hope. 1503. Naples conquered from the French by the great Spanish general, Gonsalvo of Cordova. 15U8. League of Cambray by the pope, the emperor, and the King of France against Venice. 1509. Albviqiierqiie establishes the empire of the Portuguese in the East Indies. 1516. Death of Ferdinand of Spain; he is succeeded by his grand- son Charles, afterwards the Emperor Charles V. 1517. Dispute between Luther and Tetzel respecting the sale of .indulgences, which leads to the Reformation. 1519. Charles V. is elected Emperor of Germany. 1520. Cortez conqiiers Mexico. 1525. Francis First of Spain defeated and taken prisoner by the imperial army at Pavia. 1520. League of Smalcald formed by the Protestant princes of Germany. , 1533. Henry VIII. renounces the papal supremacy. ' 1533. Pizarro conquers Peru. 1556. Abdication of the Emperor Charles V., Philip II. becomes King of Spain, and Ferdinand I. Emperor of Germany. 1557. Elizabeth becomes Queen of England. 1557. The Spaniards defeat the French at the battle of St. Quen- tin. 1571. Don John of Austria, at the head of the Spanish fleet, aid- ed by Venetian and the pajpal squadrons, defeats the Turks at Le- panto. 1572. Massacre of the Protestants in France on St. Bartholomew's day. 1579. The Netherlands revolt against Spain. 1680. Philip 11. conquers Portugal. DEFEAT OF THE ISFANISH ARMADA. 195 CHAPTEE X. THK DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH AKIIADA A.D. 1588. Vn that memorable year, when the dark cloud gathered round our coasts, ien Europe stood by in tearful suspense to behold what should be the i"sult of that great cast in the game or human pontics, what the craft of Eome, the power of Philip, the genius of Farnese could achieve against the island-queen, with her Drakes and eeclls— in that agony of the trotestant faith and English name.— Hallam, Cuiist. Bidt. vol. i., p. 220. On the afternoon of the 19th of July, a.d. 1C83, a group of Eng- lish captains was collected at the Bowling Green on the Hoe at Plj'mouth, whose equals have never before or since been brought together, even at that favorite mustering place of the heroes of the British navj'. There was Sir Francis Drake the first English cir- cumnavigator of the globe, the terror of everj' Spanish coast, in the Old World and the New; there was Sir John Hawkins, the rough veteran of many a daring voyage on the African and Amer- ican seas, and of many a desperate battle ; there was Sir Martin Frobisher, one of the earliest explorers of the Artie seas, in search of that Northwest Passage which is still the darling object of Eng- land's boldest mariners. There was the high Admiral of England, Lord Howard of Effingham, prodigal of all things in his country's cause, and who had recently had the noble daring to refuse to dis- mantle part of the fleet, though the cjueen had sent him orders to do so, in consequence of an exaggerated report that the enemy had been driven back and shattered by a storm. Lord Howard (whom contemi^orary writers describe as being of a wise and noble courage, skilful in sea matters, wai-y and provident, and of great esteem among the sailors) resolved to risk his sovereign's anger, and to keep the ships afloat at his own charge, rather than that England should run the peril of losing their protection. Another of our Elizabethan sea-kings, Sir Walter Kaleigh, was at that time commissioned to raise and equip the land forces of Cornwall; but we may well believe that he must have availed him- self of the opportunity of consulting with the lord admiral and the other high officers, which was offered by the English fleet ptft- ting into Plymouth ; and Me may look on Pialeigh as one of the group that was assembled at the Bowling Green on the Hoe. Many other brave men and skilful marinei's, besides the chiefs ■whose names have been mentioned, were there, enjoying with true sailor-like merriment, their tempoiary relaxation from duty. In the harbor lay the English fleet with which they had just re- turned from a cruise to Corunna in search of information respect- ing the real condition and movements of the hostile Armada. Lord Howard had ascertained that our enemies, though tenipest- tossed, were still formidably strong; and fearing that part of their 196 DECISIVE BATTLES. fleet might mnko for England in his absence, he had hurried back to the Devonshire coast. He resumed his station at Plymouth, and waited there for certain tidings of the Spaniard's ap^jroaoh. A match at bowls was being played, in which Drake and other high officers of the fleet were engaged, when a small armed ves- sel was seen running before the wind into Plymouth harbor with all sails set. Her commander landed in haste and eagerly sought the place where the English lord admirals and his captains were standing. His name was Fleming; he was the master of a Scotch privateer; and he told the English officers that he had that morn- ing seen the Spanish Armada off' the Cornish coast. At this exciting information the captains began to hurry down to the water, and there was a shouting for the ships' boats ; biit Drake cooly checked his comrades, and insisted the match should be played out. He said that there was plenty of time both to win the game and beat the Spaniards. The best and bravest match that evjsr was scored was resumed accordingly. Drake and his friends aimed their last bowls with the same steady, calculating coolness with which they were about to point their guns. The winning cast was made ; and then they went on board and prepared for action with their hearts as light and their nerves as firm as they had been on the Hoe Bowling Green. Meanwhile the messengers and signals had been dispatched fast and far throiigh England, to warn each town and village that the enemy had come at last. In every sea-port there was instant mak- ing ready by land and by sea ; in every shire and every city there was instant mustering of horse and man.* But England's best defense then, as ever, wasinher fleet; and after warping laboriously out of Plymouth harbor against the wind, the lord admiral stood westward under easy sail, keeping an anxious look-out for the Armada, the approach of which was soon announced by Cornish fish-boats and signals from the Cornish cliffs. The England of our own days is so strong, and the Spain of our own days is so feeble, that it is not easy, without some reflection and care, to comprehend the full extent of the peril which England then ran from the power and the ambition of Spain, or to appre- ciate the importance of that crisis in the history of the world. We had then no Indian or colonial empire, save the feeble germs of our North American settlements, which Ealeigh and Gilbert had recently planted. Scotland was a separate kingdom ; and Ireland was then even a greater source of weakness and a worse nest of rebellion than she has been in after times. Queen * In Macaulay's Ballad on the Spanish Armada, the transmission of the tidings of tlie Armada's approacli, and the arming- of the EngUsh nation, are magniflcentlv described. '1 lie progress of the lire-signals Is depicted in lines which aie worthy of comparison with the renowned passage in the Agamemnon, which describes the transmission of the beacon-light an- nouncing the fall of Troy from Mount Ida to Argos. DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMAJDA. 197 Elizabeth liad found at her accession an encumbered revenue, a divided people, and an unsuccessful foreign war, in which the last remnant of our possessions in France had been lost; she had also a formidable pretender to her crown, whose interests were favored by all the Roman Catholic powers ; and even some of her subjects were warped by religious bigotry to deny her title, and to look on her as a heretical usuri^er. It is true that during the years of her reign which had passed away before the attempted invasion of 1588, she had revived the commercial prosperity, the national spirit, and the national loyalty of England. But her resources to cope with the colossal power of Philip II. still seemed most scanty ; and she had not a single foreign ally, except the Dutch, who were themselves struggling hard, and, as it seemed, hopelessly, to maintain their revolt against Spain. On the other hand, Philip II. was absolute master of an empire so superior to the other states of the world in extent, in resources, and especially in military and naval forces as to make the project of enlarging that emi^ire into a universal monarchy seem a per- fectly feasible scheme ; and Philip had both the ambition to form that project, and the resolution to devote all his energies and all his means to its realization. Since the downfall of the Koman empire no such preponderating power had existed in the world. During the mediaeval centuries the chief European kingdoms were slowly moulding themselves out of the feudal chaos ; and though the wars with each other were numerous and desperate, and several of their respective kings figured for a time as mighty conquerors, none of them in those times acquired the consistency and perfect organization which are requisite for a long-sustained career of aggrandizement. After the consolidation of the great kingdoms, they for some time kept each other in mutual check. During the first half of the sixteenth century, the balancing system was sue • cessfully practiced by Eiiropean statesmen. But when Philip II , reigned, France had become so miserably weak through her civil wars, that he had nothing to dread from the rival state which had so long curbed his father, the Emperor Charles V. In Germany, Italy, and Poland he had either zealous friends and dependents, or weak and divided enemies. Against the Turks he had gained great and glorious successes ; and he might look roimd the conti- nent of Europe ^vithout disceriyng a single antagonist of whom he covild stand in awe. Spain, when he acceded to tbs throne, was at the zenith of her power. The hardihood and spirit which the Aragonese, the Castilians, and the other nations of the peninsula had acquired during centuries of free institutions and successful ■war against the Moors, had not yet become obliterated. Charles V. had, indeed, destroyed the liberties of Spain ; but that had been done too recently for its full evil to be felt in Philip's time. A people cannot be debased in a single generation ; and the Spaniards under Charles V. and Philip II. proved the truth of the 198 DECISIVE BATTLES. remark, tliat no nation is ever ro formidable to its neighbors for a time, as a nation which, after being trained up in self-government, passes suddenly under a despotic ruler. The energy of domo- ^ratic institutions survives for a few gererations, and to it are (uperadded the decision and certainty which are the attributes of government when all its powers are directed by a single mind. It S true that this preternatural vigor is short-lived : national corrup- ';ion and debasement gradually follow the loss of the national liberties ; but there is an interval before their workings are felt, and in that interval the most ambitious schemes of foreign con- quest are often siiccessfully undertaken. Philip had also the advantage of finding himself at the head of a large standing army in a perfect state of discipline and equipment, in an age when, except some few insignificant corps, standing armies were unknown in Christendom. The renown of the Spanish troops was justly high, and the infantry in particular was consid- ered the best in the world. His fleet, also, was far more numerous, and better appointed than that of any other European power ; and both his soldiers and hi.s sailors had the confidence in themselves and their commanders which a long career of successful warfare alone can create . Besides the Spanish crown, Philip succeeded to the kingdom of Naples and Sicily, the duchy of Milan, Franche-Compte, and the Netherlands. In Africa he possessed Tunis, Oran, the Cape Verde, and the Canary Islands ; and in Asia, the Philippine and Sunda Islands, and a part of the Moluccas. Beyond the Atlantic he was lord of the most splendid portions of the New World, which Columbus found "for Castile and Leon." The empires of Peru and Mexico, New Spain, and Chili, with their abundant mines of the precious metals, Hispaniola and Cuba, and many other of the American islands, were provinces of the sovereign of Spain. Philip had, indeed, experienced the mortification of seeing the inhabitants of the Netherlands revolt against his authority, nor could he succeed in bringing back beneath the Spanish scei^ter all the possessions which his father had bequeathed to him. iSut he had reconqiiered a large number of the towns and districts that originally took up arms against him. Belgium was brought more thoroughly into implicit obedience to Spain than she had been before her insurrection, and it was only Holland and the six other northern states that still held out against his arms. The contest had also formed a compact and veteran army on Philip's side, which, under his great general, the Prince of Parma, had been trained to act together under all difficulties and all vicissi- tudes of warfare, and on whose steadiness and loyalty perfect re- liance might be placed throughout any enterprise, however diffi- cult and tedious. Alexander Farnese, prince of Parma, ca^Dtain general of the Spanish armies, and governor of the Spanish posses- sions in the Netherlands, was beyond all comparison the greatest DEFEAT OF THE SPAmSII ABMADA. 199 military genius of bis age. He was also liigbly distingnislied for political wisdom and sagacity, and for his great administrative talents. He was idolized by bis troops, wbose ati'ections be knew bow to win witboiit relaxing tbeir discipline or diminisbing bis own autbority. Pre-eminently cool and circumspect in bis plans, but swift and energetic wben tbe moment arrived for striking a decisive blow, neglecting no risk tbat caution could provide . against, conciliating even tbe populations of tbe districts wbicb be aUacked by bis scrupuloiis good faitb, bis moderation, and bis address, Farnese was one tbe most formidable generals tbat ever could be placed at tbe bead of an army designed not only to win battles, but to effect conquests. Happy it is for England and tbe world tbat tbis island was saved from becoming an arena for tbe exhibition of bis powers. Wbatever diminution tbe Spanish empire might have sustained in tbe Netherlands seemed to be more than compensated by the acquisition of Portugal, which Philip bad completely conquer- ed in 1580. Not only that ancient kingdom itself, but all the fruits of tbe maritime enterprises of tbe Portuguese, bad fallen into Philip's bands. All the Portuguese colonies in America, Africa, and tbe East Indies acknowledged tbe sovereignty of tbe King of Spain, who thus not only united tbe whole Iberian penin- sula" under bis single scepter, but bad acquired a transmarine empire little inferior in wealth and extent to that which bo bad inherited at bis accession. The splendid victory which bis fleet, in conjunction with tbe papal and Venetian galleys, bad gained at Lepanto over the Turks, bad deservedly exalted the fame of tbe Spanish marine throughout Christendom; and wben Philip bad reigned thirty-five yeare, tbe vigor of his empire seemed unbroken, and the glory of the Spanish arms bad increased, and was increas- ing throughout tbe world. One nation only bad been bis active, bis persevering, and bis successful foe. England bad encouraged bis revolted subjects in Flanders against him, and given them tbe aid in men and money, without which they must soon have been bumbled in the dust. English ships had plundered bis colonies; bad defied bis suprem- acy°in the New World as well as tbe Old; they bad inflicted ignominious defeats on bis squadrons; they bad captured bis cUies, and burned his arsenals on tbe very coast of Spain. Tbe English bad mo.de Philip himself the ohjcct of personal insult. He^was held up to ridicule in their stage-plays and masks, and these scoffs at the man bad (as is not unusual in such cases) excited tbe anger of the absolute king even more vehemently than the m juries inflicted on bis power.* Personal as well as politica- revenge urged bim to attack England. "Were she once subduedl tbe Dutch must submit ; France could not cope with him, tbe em, * See Kanke'3 " Hist. Popes," vol. 11., p. 170. 200 DECISIVE BATTLES. piro would not oppose him ; find \iniversal dominion seemed sure to be the result of the conquest of tLat njulif^nant island. There was yet another and a stronger feeling which armed King Philip against England. He was one of the sincerest and one of the sternest bigots of his age. He looked on himself, and was Ijoked on by others, as the api^ointed champion to extirpate heresy and re-establish the pajjal power throughout Europe. A power- ful reaction against Protestantism had taken place since the commencement of the second half of the sixteenth century, and he looked on himself as destined to complete it. The Reformed doctrines had been thoroughly rooted out from Italy and Sj^ain. Belgium, which had previously been half Protestant, had been reconquered both in allegiance and creed by Philip, and had lie- come one of the most Catholic countries in the world. Half Germany had been won back to the old faith. In Bavoy, in Switzerland, and many other countries, the progress of the coun- ter-Reformation had been rapid and decisive. The Catholic league seemed victorious in France. The papal court itself had shaken ofl' the supineness of recent centuries, and, at the head of the Jesuits and the other new ecclesiastical orders, Avas dis- playing a vigor and a boldness worthy of the days of Hildebrand, or Innocent HI. Throughout continental Europe, the Protestants, discomfitted and dismayed, looked to England as their protector and refuge. England was the acknowledged central point of Protestant power and policy ; and to conquer England was to stab Protestantism to the very heart. Sixtus V., the then reigning jDope, earnestly ex- horted Philip to this enterprise. And when the tidings reached Italy and Spain that the Protestant Queen of England had piit to death her Catholic prisoner, Mary Queen of Scots, the fury of the Vatican and Escurial knew no bounds. Elizabeth was denounced as the murderous heretic whose destruction was an instant duty. A formal treaty was concluded(in June 1587), by which the pope bound himself to contribute a million of scudi to the expenses of the war; the money to be paid as soon as the king had actual possession of an English port. Philip, on his part, strained the resources of his vast empire to the utmost. The French Catholic chiefs eagerly co-operated with him. In the sea-ports of the Mediterranean, and along almost the whole coast from Gibraltar to Jutland, the pre- parations for the great armami nfc M'ere urged forward with all the earnestness of religious zeal as well as of angry ambition. "Thus," says the German historian of the popes," "thus did the united powers of Italy and Spain, from which such mighty influences had gone forth over the whole world, now rouse themselves for an at- tack upon England ! The king had already comiuled, from the archives of Simancas, a statement of the claims which he had to * Eanke, vol. il., p. 1T2, DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ABMADA. 201 the tlirone of that country on the extinction of the Stuart line ; the most brilliant ^jrospects, especially tbat of a universal domin- ion of the seas, wtre associated in his mind Avith this enterprise. Every thing seemed to conspire to such an end ; the predominancy of Catholicism in Germany, the renewed attack upon the Hugue- nots in France, the attempt upon Geneva, and the enterprise against England. At the same moment, a thoroughly Catholic prince, Sigismund III., ascended the throne of Poland, with the prospect also of future succession to the throne of Sweden. But whenever any principle or power, be it what it may, aims at un- limited supremacy in Europe, some vigorous resistance to it, hav- ing its origin in the deepest sjjrings of human nature, invariably arises. Philip II. had to encounter newly, awakened powers, braced by the vigor of youth, and elevated by a sense of their future destiny. The intrepid corsairs, who had rendered every sea insecure, now clustered i-ound the coasts of their native island. The Protestants in a body — even the Puritans, although they had been subjected to as severe oppressions as the Catholics — rallied round their cpieen, who now gave admirable proof of her mascu- line courage, and her princely talentof winning the affections, and leading the minds, and preserving the allegiance of men." Eanke should have added that the English Catholics at this crisis proved themselves as loyal to their queen and true to their country as were the most vehement anti-Catholic zealots in the island. Some few traitors there were ; but as a body, the English- men v,-hoheld the ancient faith stood the trial of their patriotism nobly. The lord admiral himself was a Catholic, and (to adopt the words of Halhim) "then it was that the Catholicsin every county repaired to the standard of the lord lieutenant, imploring that they might not be suspected of bartering the national inde- pendence for their religion itself." The Spaniard found no ixirtisans in the country which he assailed, nor did England, self- wounded, "Lie at the proud foot of her enemy." For upward of a year the Spanish preparations had been active- ly and unremittingly urged forward. Negotiations were, during this time, carried on at Ostend, in which various j^retexts were as- signed by the Spanish commissioners for the gathering together of s\ich huge masses of shipping, and such equipments of troops in all the sea-ports which their master ruled; but Philip himself took little care to disguise his intentions; nor could Elizabeth and her able ministers doubt but that this island was the real object of the Spanish armament. The peril that was wisely foreseen was reso- lutely provided for. Circiilar letters from the queen were sent round to the lord lieutenants of the several counties, requiring them "to call together the best sort of gentlemen under their leu- tenancy, and to declare \into them these great preparations and 202 DECISIVE BATTLES. arrogant threatenings, now burst forth in action upon the seas, wherein every man's particular state, in the highest degree, could be touched in respect of country, liberty, wives, children, lands, lives, and (which was specially to be regarded) the profession of the true and sincere religion of Christ. And to lay before them the infinite and unspeakable miseries that would fall out upon any such change, which miseries were evidently seen by the fruits of that havd and cruel government holden in countries not far dis- tant. We do look," said the queen, "that the most part of them should have, upon this instant extraordinary occasion, a largerpro- portion of furniture, both for horsemen and footmen, but especially horsemen, than hath been certified, thereby to be in their best strength against any attempt, or to be employed about our own per- son, or otherwise. Hereunto as we doubt not but by your good endeavors they will be the rather conformable so also we assure ourselves that Almig-ity God will so bless these their loyal hearts born towards us, their loving sovereign, and their natural cotintrj^ that all the attempts of any enemy whatsoever shall be made void and frustrate, to their confusion, your comfort, and to God's high glory."* Letters of a similar kind were also sent by the council to each of the nobility, and to the great cities. The primate called on the clergy for their contributions; and by every class of the community the appeal was responded to with liberal zeal, that offered more even than the queen required. The boasting threats of the S])aniards had roused the spirit of the nation, and the whole people "were thoroughly irritated to stir up the whole forces for their defense against such prognosticated conqtiests; so that in a very short time, all her whole realm, and every corner, were furnished with armed men, on horseback and on foot; and those continually trained, exercised, and put into bands, in warlike manner, as in no age ever was before in this realm. There was no sparing of money to provide horse, armor, weapons, powder, and all necessaries; no, nor want of provision of pioneers, carriages, and victuals, in every county of the realm, without exception, to attend upon the armies. And to this general furniture every man voluntarily offered, very many their services personally without wages, others money for armor and weajDons, and towage soldiers; a matter strange, and never the like heard of in this realm or elsewhere. And this general reason moved all men to large contributions, that when a conquest was to be withstood wherein all should be lost, it was no time to spare a portion. "f Our lion-hearted queen showed herself worthy of such a people. A camp was formed at Tilbury; and there Elizabeth rode through * Strype, cited in Southeys " Naval History.'' t Copy of contemporary letter in tUe Harlelan Collection, quoted by SoutUey. DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 203 the ranks, enconrnging her captains and her soldiers by her j)res- ence and her words. One of the speeches which she addressed to them during this crisis has been preserved; and though oiten quoted, it must not be omitted here. "My loving people," she said, "we have been persuaded by some that are careful of otir safety to take heed how we commit our- selves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear ! I have always so behaved myself, that under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my suVijects; and, therefore, I am come among you, as you see, at tjiis time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die among you all, to lay down for my God, for my kingdom, and for my people, my honor and my blood even in the dust. I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman, but I Lave the heart and stomach of a king, and of a King of England too, and think it foul scorn that Parma, or Spain, or any prince of Eiarope should dare to invade the borders of my realm, to which rather than any dishonor shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know alreadj', for your forwardness, you have deserved rewards and crowns ; and we do assure you, on the word of a i srince they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time, my lieutenant gen- eral shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject, not doubting but by your obedi- ence to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valor in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom and of my people." Some of Elizabeth's advisers recommended that the whole care and resources of the government should be devoted to the equip- ment of tlie armies, and that the enemy, when he attempted to land, should be welcomed with a battle on the shore. But the wiser counsels of Ealeigh and others prevailed, who urged the im- portance of fitting out a fleet that should encounter the Spaniards at sea, and, if possible, prevent them from approaching the land at all. In Ealeigh's great work on the "History of the World," he takes occasion, when discussing some of the events of the first Punic war, to give his reasonings on the proper policy of England when menaced with invasion. Without doubt, we have there the substance of the advice which he gave to Elizabeth's council ; and the remarks of such a man on such a subject have a general and enduring interest, beyond the immediate crisis which called them forth. Pialeigh says :'* " Surely I hold that the best way is to keep our enemies from treading upon our gi'oimd ; wherein if we fail, then must we seek to make him a\ ish that he had stayed at his own * " Historic of tlie World," p. "m-^ai. 204 DECISIVE BATTLES. home. In si:ch a case, if it slioukl happen, or.r judgments are to weigh many ixirticnlar cireumst;ince.s, that belongs not unto this discourse. Lut making the qiiestion general, the positive, Wheiher England, icithoal (lie help (f }ier fleet, he ahie to debar an enemy from lanclinti, I hold that it is unable so to do, and therefore I think it most dangerous to make the adventure; for the encouragement of a first victory to an enemy, and the discouragement of being beaten to the invaded, may draw after it a most perilous conse- quence. " Great difference I know there is, and a diverse consideration to be had, between such a country as France is, strengthened with many fortified places, and this of ours, where our ramparts are but the bodies of men. But I say that an army to be tran.sported over sea, and to be landed again in an enemy's country, aud the place left to the choice of the invader, cannot be resisted on the coast of England without a fleet to impeach it; no, nor on the coast of France, or any other country, except every creek, poit, or sandy bay had a powerful army in each of them to make opposi- tion. For let the supposition be granted that Kent is able to fur- nish twelve thousand foot, and that those twelve thousand be layed in the three V.est landing-places Avithin that country, to wit, three thoiisand at Margat, three thousand at the Nesse, and six thousand at Foulkstone, tljat is, somewhat equally distant from them both, as also that two of these troops (unless some otherorder be thought more fit) be directed to strengthen the third, when they shall see the enemy's fleet to head toward it : I say, that notwithstanding this provision, if the enemj', setting sail from the Isle of Wight, in the first watch of the night, and towing their long boats at tJieir sterns, shall arrive by dawn of day at the Nesse, and thrust their army on shore there, it will be hard for those three thousand that are at Margat (twenty-and-four long miles from thence) to come time enough to re-enforce their fellows at the Nesse. Nay, how shall they at Foulkstone be able to do it, who are nearer by more than half the way ? seeing that the enemy, at his first arrival, will either make his entrance by force, with three or foi;i shot of great artillery, and quickly put the first three thousand that are in- trenched at the Nesse to run, or else give them so much to do that they shall be glad to send for help to Foulkstone, and perhaps to Margat, whereby those places will be left bare. Now let us sup- pose that all the twelve thousand Kentish soldiers arrive at the Nesse ere the enemy can be ready to disembarque his army, so that he will find it xmsafe to land in the face of so many prepared to withstand him, yet must we believe that he will i^Iay the best to his own game (having liberty to go which way he list), and under covert of the night, set sail toward the east, where what shall hinder him to take ground cither at Margat, the Downes, or elsewhere, before the^- at the Nesse can be well aware of his de- parture ? Certainly there is nothing more easy than to do it. Yea, DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 205 the like may be said of Weymonth, Purbeck, Poole, and of all landing-places oii the southwest ; for there is no man ignorant thut ships, withoiit putting themselves out of breath, -will easily outrun the soldiers that coast them. ' i"s arniees ne volent point enposte;' 'Ar^niesneither fly e nor run post,' saith a marshal of France. And I know it to be true, that a fleet of shijis may be seen at sunset, and after it at the Lizard, yet by the next morning they may recovt r Portland, whereas an army of foot shall not be able to march it in six dav'es. Again, when those troops lodged on the sea-shores shall be forced to run from place to place in vain, after a flc' t of ships, they will at length sit down in the midway, and leave all at adventure. But say it were otherwise, that the invading enemy will otfer to land in some such place where there shall be an army of ours ready to receive him ; yet it cannot be doubted but that when the choice of all our trained bands, and the choice of our commanders and captains, shall be drawn together (as they were at Tilbury in the year 1588) to attend the person of the prince, and for the defense of the city of London, they that remain to gixard the coast can be of no such force as to encounter an army like unto that wherewith it was intended that the Prince of Parma should have landed in England. "For end of this digr ssion, I hope that this question shall never come to trial : his majesty's many movable forts will forbid the experience. And although the English M'ill no less disdain, than any nation iinder heaven can do, to be beaten upon their own ground, or elsewhere, by a foreign enemy, yet to entertain those that shall assail us, with their own beef in their bellies and before they eat of our Kentish capons, I take it to be the wisest way ; to do which his majesty, after God, will employ his good ships on the sea, and not trust in any intrenchment upon the shore." The introduction of steam as a propelling i^ower at sea has added ten-fold weight to these arguments of Raleigh. On the other hand, a well-constructed system of rail-ways, especially of coast-lines, aided by the o-peration of the electric telegraph, would give facili- ties for concentrating a defensive army to oppose an enemy on landing, and for moving troops from place to place in observation of the movements of the hostile fleet, such as would have aston- ished Sir Walter, even more than the sight of vessels passing rapidly to and fro without the aid of wind or tide. The observation of the French marshal, whom he quotes, is now no longer correct. Armies can be made to pass from place to jdace almost with the speed of wings, and far more rapidly than any post-travelling that was known in the Elizabethan or any other age. Still, tlie pres- ence of a sufficient armed force at the right spot, at the right time, can never be made a matter of certainty ; and even after the changes that have taken place, no one can doubt but that the pol- icy of Ealeigh is that which Englaml should ever seek to follow in defensive war. At the time of the Armada, that policy certainly 206 DECISIVE BATTLES. saved the country, if not from conquest, at least from deplorable calamities. If indeed the enemj' had landed, we maybe si;rethat he would have been heroically opposed. But history shows us so many examples of the superiority of veteran troops over new levies, however numerous and brave, that, without disparaging our countrymen's soldierly merits, we may well be thankful that no trial of them was then made on English land. Especially must we feel this when we contrast the higli l .ilitary genius of the Prince of Parma, who would have headed the Spaniards, with the imbecility of the Earl of Liecester, to whom tho deijlorable spirit of favoritism, which formed the great blemish ce Elizabeth's char- acter, had then committed the chief command of the English armies. The ships of the royal navy at t>li,S.ime amounted to no more than thirty-six ; but the most se? .ficeable merchant vessels were collected from all the ports of tUe country ; and the citizens of London, Bristol, and the othe^r great seats of commerce showed as liberal a zeal in equipping and manning vessels, as the nobility and gentry displayed in mustering forces by land. The seafaring population of fie const, of every rank and station, was animated by the same x -ady spirit ; and the whole number of seamen who came forward to man the English fleet was 17,472. The number of the sliips that were collected was 191 ; and the total amount of their tonnage, 31,985. There was one ship in the fleet (the Tri- umph) of 1100 tons, one of 1000, one of 900, two of 800 each, three of GOO, five of 500, five of 400, six of 300, six of 250, twenty of 200, and the residue of inferior burden. Application was made to the Dutch for assistance ; and, as Stowe expresses it, "The Hollanders came roundly in, with threescore sail, brave ships of war, fierce and full of spleen, not so much for England's aid, as in just occa- sion for their own defense : these men foreseeing the greatness of the danger that might ensue if the Spaniards should chance to win ihe day and get the mastery over them; and in due regard whereof, their manly courage was inferior to none." We have more minute information of the number and equipment of the hostile forces than we have of our own. In the first volume of Hakluyt's "Voyages," dedicated to Lord Effingham, who com- manded against the Armada, there is given (from the contemporary foreign writer, Meteran) a more complete and detailed catalogue than has perhaps ever appeared of a similar armament. ' 'A very large and particular description of thisnavie was put in print and published by the Spaniards, wherein was set downe the number, names, and burthens of the shippes, the number of mar- iners and soldiers throughout the whole fleete ; likewise the quan- titie of their ordinance, of their armor, of bullets, of match, of gun-poulder, of victuals, and of all their navall furniture M^as in the saide description particularized. Unto all these were added the names of the governours, captaines, noblemen, and gentlemen DEFEA T OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 207 voluntaries, of -whom there •was so great a multitude, that scarce was there any family of accompt.or any one i^rincii^all man through- out all Sjjaine, that had not a brother, sonne, or kinsman in that fleete ; who all of them were in good hope to purchase unto them- selves in that navie (as they termed it) invincible, endless glory and renown, and to possess themselves of great seigniories and riches in England and in the Low Countreys. But because the Baid description was translated and published out of Spanish into divers other languages, we will here onlj' make an abridgement or brief rehearsal thereof. "Portugall furnished and set foorth under the conduct of the Duke of Medina iSidonia, generall of the flee te, 10 galeons, 2 zabraes 1300 mariners, 3,300 soldiers, 300 great pieces, with all requisite furniture. "Biscay, under the conduct of John Martines de Kicalde, admi- ral of the whole fleete, set forth 10 galeons, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 2000 soldiers, 250 great pieces, &c. " Guipusco, under the conduct of Michael de Oquendo, 10 gal- eons, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 2,000 souldiers, 310 great pieces. "Italy, with the Levant islands, under Martine de Yertendona, 10 galeons, 700 mariners, 2,000 souldiers, 310 great pieces, &c. "Castile, under Diego Flores de Yaldez, 14 galeons, 2 pataches, 1700 mariners, 2,400 souldiers, and 380 great pieces, &c. "Andalusia, under the conduct of Petro de Yaldez, 10 galeons, 1 patache, 800 mariners, 2,400 souldiers, 280 great pieces, &c. "Item, under the conduct of John Lopez de j\Iedina, 23 great Flemish hulkes, with 700 mariners, 3,200 souldiers, and 400 great pieces. " Item, under Hugo de Moncada, 4 galliasses, containing 1200 gally-slaves, 460 mariners, 870 souldiers, 200 great pieces, &c. "Item, under Diego dc Mandrana, 4 gallies of Portugall, with 888 gally-slaves, 360 mariners, 20 great pieces, and other requisite furniture. "Item, under Anthonie de Mendoza, 22 pataches and zabraes, with 574 mariners, 488 souldiers, and 193 great pieces. " Besides the ships aforementioned, there were 20 caravels, rowed with oars, being api^ointed to perform necessary services under the greater ships, insomuch as all the ships appertayning to this navie amoi:nted unto the summe of 150, eche one being sufficiently provided offurnittire and A'ictuals. "The number of mariners in the saide fleete were above 8,000, ofslaves 2,088 of souldiers 20,000 (besides noblemen and gentlemen voluntaries\ of great cast pieces 2,600. The foresaid ships were of an huge and incredible capacitieand receipt, forthe whole fleete was large enough to containe the burthen of 60,000 tunnes. "The galeons were 64 in number, being of an hugebignesse, and very flately built, being of marvellous force also, and so high that they resembled great castles, most fit to defend themselves and to 208 DECISIVE BATTLES. ■withstand any assault, bnt in giving any other ships the encounter farr inferiour unto the English and Dutch ships, which can with great dexteritie wield and turne themselves at all assayes. The tipper worke of the said galeons was ofthicknesse and strength suf- ficient to beare off musket-shot. The lower worke and the timbers thereof were out of measure strong, being framed of planks and ribs foure or five foote in thicknesse, insomuch that no biillets could pierce them but such as were discharged hard at hand, which afterward prooyed true, for great number of bullets were founde to sticke fast within the massie substance of those thicke plankes. Great and well-pitched cables were twined aboiit the masts of their shippes, to strengthen them against the battery of shot. "The galliasses were of such bignesse that they contained within them chambers, chapels, turrets, i^ulpits and other commodities of great houses. The galliasses were rowed with great oares, there being in eche one of them 3U0 slaves for the same purpose, and were able to do great service with the force of their ordinance. All these, together with the residue aforenamed, were furnished and beauti- fied with trumpets, streamers, banners, warlike ensignes, and other such like ornaments. "Their j)ieces of brazen ordinance were 1600, and of yron a 1000. "The biillets thereto belonging were 120,000. "Item of gun-poulder, 5,600 quintals. Of matche, 1200 quin- tals. Of muskets and kaleivers, 7,000. Of haleberts and partizans, 10,000. "Moreover, they had great stores of canons, double-canons, culverings and field-pieces for land services. "Likewise they were provided of all instruments necessary on land to conveigh and transport their furniture from place to place, as namely of carts, wheeles, wagons, &c. Also they had spades, mattocks, and baskets to set piouers on worke. They had in like sort great store of mules and horses, and whatsoever else was requisite for a land armie. They were so well stored of biscuit, that for the space of halfe a yeere they might allow eche person in the whole fleete halfe a quintall every moneth, whereof the whole summe amounteth unto an hundreth thousand quintals. "Likewise of wine they had 1'47,000 pipes, siiificient also for halfe a yeere's expedition. Of bacon, 6,500 quintals. Of cheese, 3,000 quintals. Besides fish, rise, beanes, pease, oile, vinegar, &c. Moreover, they had 12,000 pipes of fresh water, and all other necessary provision as namely, candles, lanternes, lampes, sailes, hempe, oxe-hides, and lead, to stop holes that should be made with the battery of gunshot. To be short, they brought all things ex- pedient, either for a fleete by sea, or for an armie by land. "This navie (as Diego Pimentelli afterward confessed) was es- teemed by the king himselfe to containe 32,000 persons, and to cost him every day 30,000 ducates. DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 209 "There were in tlie said navie five terzaes of Spaniards (which terzaes the Frenchmen call regiments^, under the command of five governonrs, termed by the Spaniards masters of the field, and among the rest there were many olde and expert souldiers chosen out of the garisons of Sicilie, Naples, and Tergera. Their captaines or colonels were Diego Pimentelli, Don Francisco de Toledo, Don Alonco de Luqon, Don Nicolas de Isla, Don Augus- tin de Mexia, M'ho had eche of them thirty-two companies under their oonduct. Besides the which companies, there were many bands also of Castilians and Fortugals, every one of which had their peculiar governours, captains, ofiicers, colors, and weajjons." While this huge armament was making ready in the southern ports of the Spanish dominions, the Duke of Parma, with almost incredible toil and skill, collected a squadron of war-ships at Dun- kirk, and a large flotilla of other shijis and of flat-bottomed boats for the ti'ansport to England of the picked troops, which were designed to be the mam instruments in subduing England. The design of the Spaniards was that the Armada should give them, at least for a time, the command of the sea, and that it should join the squadron that Parma had collected off Calais. Then, escorted by an overpowering naval force, Parma and his army were to em- bark in their flotilla, and cross the sea to England, where they were to be landed, together with the troops which the Armada broiight from the ports of Spain. The scheme was not dissimilar to one formed against England a little more than two centuries afterward. As Napoleon, in 1805, waited with his army and flotilla at Boulogne, looking for Villeneuve to drive away the English cruisers, and secure him a passage across the Channel, so Parma, in 1588, waited for Medina Sidonia to drive away the Dutch and English squadrons that watched his flotilla, and to enable his veterans to cross the sea to the land that they were to conquer. Thanks to Providence, in each case England's enemy waited in vain ! AlthoTigh the numbers of sail which the queen's government and the patriotic zeal of volunteers had collected for the defense of England exceeded the number of sail in the Spanish fleet, the English ships were, collectively, far inferior in size to their adver- saries, their aggregate tonnage being less bv half than that of the enemy. In the number of guns and weight of metal, the dispro- portion was still greater. The English admiral was also obliged to subdivide his force ; and Lord Henry Seymour, with forty of the best Dutch and English ships, was employed in blockading the hostile ports in Flanders, and in preventing the Duke of Parma from coming out of Dunkirk. The Invinciblk Akmada, as the Spaniards in the pride of their hearts named it, set sail from the Tagiis on tiie 29th of May, but near Corunna mot with a tempest that drove it into port with severe loss. It was the report of the damage done to the enemy 210 DECISIVE BATTLES. by this storm wbicli had caused the English court to suppose that there would be no invasion that year. But, as already mentioned, the English admiral had sailed to Corunna, and learned the real state of the case, whence he ha,d returned with his ships to Plymouth. The Armada sailed again from Corunna on the 12th of July. The orders of King Philip to the Duke de Medina Sidonia were, that he should, on entering the Channel, keep near the French coast, and, if attacked by the English ships, avoid an action and steer on to Calais Koads, where the Prince of Parma's squadron, was to join him. The hopes of surprising and destroying the English fleet in Plymouth led the Spanish admiral to deviate from these orders and to stand across to the English shore ; but, on finding that Lord Howard was coming out to meet him, he resumed the original plan, and determined to bend his way steadily toward Calais and Dunkirk, and to keep merely on the defensive against such squadrons of the English as might come up with him. It was on Saturday, the 20th of July, that Lord Effingham came in sight of his formidable adversaries. The Armada was drawn up in the form of a crescent, which, from horn to horn, measured some seven miles. There was a southwest wind, and before it the vast vessels sailed slowly on. The English let them pass by ; and then following in the rear, commenced an attack on them. A running fight now took place, in which some of the best ships of the Spaniards were captured ; many more received heavy damage ; while the English vessels, which took care not to close with their huge antagonists, but availed themselves of their superior celerity in tacking and maneuvering, sufiered little comparative loss. Each day added not only to the spirit, but to the number of Effingham's force. Ealeigh, Oxford, Cumberland, and Sheffield joined him ; and "the gentlemen of England hired ships from all parts at their own charge, and with one accord came flocking thither as to a set field, where glory was to be attained, and faithful service performed unto their prince and their country." Ealeigh justly praises the English admiral for his skilful tactics. Kaleigh says,* "Certainly, he that will happily perform a fight at sea must be skilful in making choice of vessels to fight in : he must believe that there is more belonging to a good man of war, upon the waters, than great daring ; and must know, that there ia .a great deal of difi"erence between fighting loose or at large and grappling. The guns of a slow ship pierce as well, and make as great holes, as those in a swift. To clap ships together, without consideration, belongs rather to a madman than to a man of war; for by such an ignorant bravery was Peter Strossie lost at the Azores, when he fought against the Marquis of Santa Cruza. In like sort had the Lord Charles Howard, admiral of England, been lost in the year 1588, if he had not been better advised than a great many • " Hlstorle of tbe World," p. T91. DEFEAT OF THE SP ANISE ARMADA. 211 malignant fools were that found fault with his demeanor. The Spaniards had an army aboard them, and he had none ; they had more ships than he had, and of higher building and charging ; so that, had he entangled himself with those great and powerful vessels, he had greatly endangered this kingdom of England ; for twenty men upon the defenses are equal to a hundred that board and enter ; whereas then, contrariwise, the Spaniards had a hun- dred, for twenty of ours, to defend themselves withal. But our admiral knew his advantage, and held it ; which had he not done, he had not been worthy to have held his head." ' The Spanish admiral also showed great judgment and firmness in following the line of conduct that had been traced out for him ; and on the 27th of July, he brought his fleet unbroken, though sorely distressed, to anchor in Calais Roads. But the King of Sixain had calculated ill the number and the activity of the English and Dutch fleets ; as the old historian expresses it, " It seemeth that the Duke of Parma and the Spaniards grounded upon a vain and presumptuous expectation, that all the ships of England and of the Low Countreys would at the first sight of the Spanish and Dunkerk navie have betaken themselves to flight, yielding them sea-room, and endeavoring only to defend themselves, their havens, and sea-coasts from invasion. Wherefore their intent and purpose was, that the Duke of Parma, in his small and flat-bottomed ships, should, as it were under the shadow and wings of the Spanish fleet, convey ouer all his troupes, armor, and war-like provisions, and with their forces so united, should invade England : or while the English fleet were busied in fight against the Spanish, should enter upon any part of the coast, which he thought to be most convenient. Which invasion (as the captives afterward confessed) the Duke of Parma thought first to have attempted by the River of Thames ; upon the banks whereof having at the first arrivall landed twenty or thirty thousand of his principall souldiers,he sup- posed that he might easily have woonne the citie of London ; both because his small shij^pes should have followed and assisted his land forces, and also for that the citie it-selfe was but meanely fortified and easie to ouercome, by reason of the citizens' delicacie and discontinuance from the warres, who, with continuall and constant labor, might be vanquished, if they yielded not at the first assault."* But the English and Dutch found ships and mariners enough to keep the Armada itself in check, and at the same time to block up Parma's flotilla. The greater i)art of Seymour's squadron left its cruising-ground off Dunkirk to join the English admiral off Calais ; but the Dutch iftanned about five-and-thirty sail of good ships, with a strong force of soldiers on board, all well seasoned to the sea-service, and with these they blockaded the Flemish ports - — — ■ ^' • Hakluyt'a " Voya«fes,»' TOl. I, p. 801. 212 DECISIVE BATTLES. that were in Parma's power. Still it was resolved by the Spanish admiral and the prince to endeavor to efl'ecta junction, which the English seamen were equally resolute to prevent ; and bolder measures on our side now became necessar3^ The Armada lay off Calais, with its largest ships ranged outside, " like strong castles fearing no assault, the lesser jilaced in the middle ward." The English admiral could not attack them in their position without great disadvantage, but on the night of the 29th he sent eight lire-shii^s among them, with almost equal effect to that of the fire-ships which the Greeks so often em^Dloyed against the Turkish fleets in their late war of independence. The Span- iards ciit their cables and put to sea in confusion. One of the largest galeasses ran foul of another vessel and was stranded. The rest of the fleet was scattered about on the Flemish coast, and when the morning broke, it was with difficulty and delay that they obeyed their admiral's signal to range themselves round him near Gravelines. Now was the golden opportunity for the English to assail them, and prevent them from ever letting loose Parma's flotilla against England, and nobly was that opijortunity used. Drake and Fenner were the first English captains who attacked the unwieldy leviathans ; then came Fenton, Southwell, Burton, Cross, Eaynor, and then the lord admiral, with Lord Thomas Howard and Lord Sheffield. The Spaniards only thought of form- ing and keeping close together, and were driven by the English past Dunkirk, and far away from the Prince of Parma, who, in watching their defeat from the coast, must, as Drake expressed it, have chafed like a bear robbed of her whelj^s. This was indeed the last and the decisive battle between the two fleets. It is, per- haps, best described in the very words of the contemporary writer, as we may read them in Hakluyt.* "Upon the 29th of July in the morning, the Spanish fleet after the forsayd tumult, having arranged themselues againe into order, were, within sight of Greveling, most bravely and furiously en- countered by the English, where they once again got the wind of the Spaniards, who suffered themseues to be deprived of the com- modity of the place in Caleis Eoad, and of the advantage of the wind neer unto Dunkerk, rather than they woiild change their ar- ray or separate their forces now conjoyned and united together, standing only upon their defense. "And albeit there were many excellent and warlike ships in the English fleet, yet scarce were there 22 or 23 among them all, which miltched 90 of the Spanish ships in the bigness, or could conveniently assault them. Wherefore the English shippes using their ijrerogative of nimble steerage, whereby they could turn and weild themselves with the wind which way they listed, came often times very near upon the Spaniards, and charged them so Vol. 1.-, p. 602. DEFEAT OF TEE SPANISH AR2IADA. 213 sore, that now and then they were but a pike's length asunder ; and so continually giving them one broad side after another, they discharged all their shot, both great and small, upon them, spend- ing one whole day, from morning till night, in that violent kind of conilict, untill such time as powder and bullets failed them. In regard of which want they thought it convenient not to pursue the Spaniards any longer, because they had many great vantages of the English, namely, for the extraordinary bigness of their shippes, and also for that they were so neerely conjoj'ned, and kept together in so good array, that they could by no meanes be fought withall one to one. The English thought, therefore, that they had right well acquitted themselves in chasing the Sjian - iards first from Caleis, and then from Drankerk, and by that meanes to have hindered them from joyning with the Duke of Parma his forces, and getting the wind of them, to have driven them from their own coasts. "The Spaniards that day sustained great loss and damage, hav- ing many of their shipjies shot thorow and thorow, and they dis- charged likewise great store of ordinance against the English ; who, indeed, sustained some liinderance, but not comparable to the Spaniard's loss; for they lost not any one ship or person of account; for very diligent inquisition being made, the Englishmen all that time wherein the Spanish navy sayled upon their seas, are not found to hauo wanted aboue one hundred of their people ; albeit Sir Francis Drake's ship was pierced with shot aboue forty times, and bis very cabbcn v,as twice shot thorow, and about the conclusion of the fight, the bed of a certaine gentleman lying weary thereupon, was taken quite from under him with the force of a bullet. Likewise, as the Earle of Northumberland and Sir Charles Blunt were at dinner upon a time, the bullet of a demy- culvering brake thorow the middest of their cabben, touched their feet, and strooke downe two of the standers-by, with many such accidents befalling the English shippes, which it were tedious to rehearse. " It reflects little credit on the English government that the En- glish fleet was so deficiently supplied with ammunition as to be unable to complete the destruction of the invaders. But enough was d ne to insure it. ilany of the largest Spanish ships were sunk or captured in the action of this day. And at length the Spanish admiral, despairing of success, fled northward with a southerly wind, in the hoj^e of roi;nding Scotland, and so return- ing to Spain without a farther encounter with the English fleet. Lord Efiingham left a squadron to continue the blockade of the Prince of Parma's armament; but that wise general soon withdrew bis troops to more promising fields of action. Meanwhile the lord admiral himself, and Drake, chased the vincible Armada, as it was now termed, for some distance northward; and then, when they seemed to bend away from the Scotch coast toward Norway, it was 214 DECISIVE BATTLES. thought best, in the 'words of Drake, "to leave them to those bois- terous and uncouth Northern seas." j The sufferings and losses which the unhappy Spaniards sustain- ed in their flight round Scotland and Ireland are well known. Of their whole Armada only fifty-three shattered vessels brought back their beaten and wasted crews to the Spanish coast which they had quitted in siich pageantry and pride. Some passages from the writings of those who took part in the struggle have been already quoted, and the most spirited descrip- tion of the defeat of the Armada which ever was penned may I perhaps be taken from the letter which our brave Vice-admiral Drake wrote in answer to some mendacious stories by which the Spaniards strove to hide their shame. Thus does he describe the scenes in which he played so important a part.* "They were not ashamed to publish, in sundry languages in print, great victories in words, which they pretended to have ob- tained against this realm, and spread the same in a most false sort over all parts of France, Italy, and elsewhere ; when, shortly after- ward, it was hapjiily manifested in very deed to all nations, how their navy, which they termed invincible, consisting of one hundred and forty sail of ships, not only of their own kingdom, but strengthened with the greatest argosies, Portugal carracks, Floren- tines, and large hulks of other countries, were by thirty of her majesty's own ships of war, and a few of our own merchants, by the wise, valiant, and advantageous conduct of the Lord Charles Howard, high admiral of England, beaten and shuffled together even from the Lizard in Cornwall, first to Portland, when they shamefully left Don Pedro de Valdez with his mighty ship; from Portland to Calais, where they lost Hugh de Moncado, with the galleys of which he was captain; and from Calais, driven with squibs from their anchors, were chased out of the sight of England, round about Scotland and Ireland; where, for the sympathy of their religion, hoping to find succor and assistance, a great part of them were crushed against the rocks, and those others that land- ed, being very many in number, were, notwithstanding, broken, slain, and taken, and so sent from village to village, coupled in halters to be shipped into England, where her majesty, of her princely and invincible disposition, disdaining to put them to 'death, and scorning either to retain or to entertain them, they were all sent back again to their countries, to witness and recount the worthy achievement of their invincible and dreadful navy. Of which the number of soldiers, the fearful burden of their ships, the commanders' names of every squadron, with all others, their magazines of provision, were put in print, as an army and navy irresistible and disdaining prevention; with all which their great * See Strype, and the notes to the Life of Drake, la the " Blographla Britannlca." SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 215 and terrible ostentation, they did not in all their sailing ronnd about England so much as sink or take one ship, barque, pinnace, or cock-boat of ours, or ev^n burn so much as one sheep-cote on this land." Synopsis op Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Abmada, A.D. 1588, AND THE BaTTLE OF BuENHEIM, A.D. 1704. A.D. 1594. Henry IV. of France conforms to the Roman Catho- lic Church and ends the civil wars that had long desolated France. 1598. Philip II. of Spain dies leaving a ruined navy and an ex- hausted kingdom. 1603. Death of Queen Elizabeth. The Scotch dynasty of the Stuarts succeeds the throne of England. 1619. Commencement of the Thirty Years' "War in Germany. 1624-1642. Cardinal Richelieu is minister of France. He breaks the power of nobility, reduces the Huguenots to complete subjec- tion, and by aiding the Protestant German princes in the latter part of the Thirty Years' War, he humiliates France's ancient rival, Austria. 1630. GustavusAdolphus.King of Sweden, marches into Germany to the assistance of the Protestants, who were nearly crushed by the Austrian armies. He gains several great victories, and after his death, Sweden, under his statesmen and generals, continues to take a leading part in the war. 1640. Portugal throws off the Spanish yoke; and the house of Bra- ganza begins to reign. 1642. Commencement of the civil war in England between Charles L and his Parliament. 1648. The Thirty Years' War in Germany ended by the treaty of Westphalia. 1653. Oliver Cromwell Lord Protector of England. 1660. Restoration of the Stuarts to the English throne. 1661. Louis XIV. takes the administration of affairs in France into his own hands. 1667-1668. Louis XIV. makes war upon Spain, and conquers a large part of the Spanish Netherlands. 1672. Louis makes war upon Holland, and almost overpowers it. Charles II., of England, is his pensioner, and England helps the French in their attacks upon Holland until 1674. Heroic resistance of the Dutch under the Prince of Orange. 1674. Louis conquers Franche-Comte. 1679. Peace of Nimeguen. 1681. Louis invades and occupies Alsace. 1682. Accession of Peter the Great to the throae of Russia. 216 DECISIVE BATTLES. 108"). Louis commences a, merciless persecution of his Protes- tant subjects. l(iS8. The glorious Revolution in England. Expulsion of James TI. William of Orange is made King of England. James takes refuge at the French court, and Louis undertakes to restore him. General war in the west of Europe. 1697. Treaty of Eyswick. Charles XII. becomes King of Swe- den. 1700. Charles II., of Sjiain, dies, having bequeathed his domin- ions to Philip of Anjou, Louis XIV. 's grandson. Defeat of the Eus- sians at Narva by Charles XII. 1701. Willam III. forms a "Grand Alliance" of Austria, the Em- pire, the United Provinces, England, and other powers, against Prance. 1702. King William dies; but his successor. Queen Anne, adheres to the Grand Alliance, and war is proclaimed against France. CHAPTEE XI. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, A.!). 1704. Tlie decisive blow struck at Blenheim resounded through every part of Europe : it at once destroyed the vast fabric of power which it had taken Louis XIV., aided by the talents of Turenne and the genius of Vauban, so long to construct.— Alison. Though more slowly moulded and less imposingly vast than the empire of Napoleon, the power which Louis XIV. had acquired and was acquiring at the commencement of the eighteenth century was almost equally menacing to the general liberties of Europe. If tested by the amount of permanent aggrandizement which each procured for France, the ambition of the royal Bourbon was more successful than were the enterprises of the imperial Corsiean. All the provinces that Bonaparte conquered were rent again from France within twenty years from the date when the very earliest of them was acquired. France is not stronger by a single city or a single acre for all the devastating wars of the Consulate and the Empire- But she still possesses Franche-Comte, Alsace, and part of Flanders. She has still the extended boundaries which Louis XIV. gave her ; and the royal Spanish marriage a few years ago proved clearly how enduring has been the political influence which the arts and arms of France's "Grand Monarque '" obtained for her southward of the Pyrenees. When Louis XIV. took the reins of government into his own hands, after the death of Cardinal Mazarin, there was a union of ability with opportunity such &a France had not seen since the BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 217 days of Charlemagne. Moreover, Louis's career was no brief one. For upward of forty years, for a period nearly equal to the dura- tion of Charlemagne's reign, Louis steadily followed an aggressive and a generally successful policy. He passed a long youth and manhood of triumph before the military genius of Marlborough made him acquainted with humiliation and defeat. The great Bourbon livedtoo long. He should not have outstayed owr two English kings, one his dependent, James IL, the other his antag- onist, William IIL Had he died when they died, his reign would be cited as unequalled in the French annals for its prosperity. B\it he lived on to see his ai-mies beaten, his cities captured, and his kingdom wasted year after year by disastrous war. It is as if Charlemagne had survived to be defeated by the Northmen, and to witness the misery and shame that actually fell to the lot of his descendants. Still, Louis XrV. had forty years of success ; and from the per- manence of their fruits, we may judge what the results would have been if the last fifteen years of his reign had been equally fortu- nate. Had it not been for Blenheim, all Europe might at this day suffer under the effect of French conquests resembling those of Alexander in extent, and those of the Romans in dTirability. "When Louis XIV. began to govern, he found all the materials for a strong government ready to his hand. Eichelieii had com- pletely tamecl the turbulent spirit of the French nobility, and had subverted the "imperium in imperio" of the Huguenots. The faction of the Frondeurs in Mazarin's time had had the effect of making the Parisian Parliament utterly hateful and contemptible in the eyes of the nation. The Assemblies of the States-General were obsolete. The royal authority alone remained. The king was the state. Louis knew his position. He fearlessly avowed it, and he fearlessly acted up to it. * Not only was his government a strong one, biit the country which he governed was strong — strong in its geographical sitiiation, in the compactness of its territory, in the number and martial spirit of its inhabitants, and in their complete and undivided nationality. Louis had neither a Hiingary nor an Ireland in his dominions. The civil war in the Cevennes was caused solely by his own persecuting intolerance; and that did not occur till late in his reign, when old age made his bigotry more gloomj', and had friven fanaticism the mastery over prudence. Like Napoleon in after times, Louis XIV. saw clearly that the great wants of France were "ships, colonies, and commerce." But Louis did more than see these wants ; by the aid of his great min- ister, Colbert, he supplied them. One of the surest proofs of the * " Quand Louis XIV. dlt, ' L'Etat, c'est mol . ' 11 n'y eut dans cette parole nl enflure, d1 vantere, mats la simple enonciatlon d'ur fali."~MicHELET ilis- toire il'jcUrne, vol. U., p. I(i6. 918 DECISIVE BATTLES. genius of Louis was his skill in finding out genius in others, and his promptness in calling it into action. Under him, Louvois organized, Turenne, Conde, Villars, and Berwick led the armies of France, and Vauban fortified her frontiers. Throughout his reign, French diplomacy was marked by skilfulness and activity, and also by comprehensive far-sightedness, such as the represen- tatives of no other nation possessed. Guizot's testimony to the vigor that was displayed through every branch of Louis XIV. 's government, and to the extent to which France at present is in- debted to him, is remarkable. He says that, "taking the public services of every kind, the finances, the departments of roads and public works, the military administration, and all the establish- ments which belong to every branch of administration, there is not one that will not be found to have had its origin, its development, or its greatest perfection under the reign of Louis XIV."* And he points out to us that "the government of Louis XIV. was the first that presented itself to the eyes of Europe as a power acting upon sure grounds, which had not to dispute its existence with inward enemies, but was at ease as to its territory and its people, and solely occupied with the task of administering government prop- erly so called. All the European governments had been previously thrown into incessant wars, which deprived them of all security as well as of all leisure, or so pestered by internal parties or antag- onists that their time was passed in fighting for existence. The government of Louis XIV. was the first to appear as a busy, thriv- ing administration of afiairs, as a power at once definitive and pro- gressive, which was not afraid to innovate, because it could reckon securely on the future. There have been, in fact, very few govern- ments equally innovating. Compare it with a government of the same nature, the unmixed monarchy of Philip II. in Spain ; it was more absolute than that of Louis XIV., and yet it was less regular and tranquil. How did Philip IL succeed in establishing absolute power in Spain ? By stifling all activity in the country, opposing himself to every species of amelioration, and rendering the state of Spain completely stagnant. The government of Louis XIV., on the contrary, exhibited alacrity for all sorts of innova- tions, and showed itself favorable to the progress of letters, arts, wealth — in short, of civilization. This was the veritable cause of its preponderance in Europe, which arose to such a pitch, that it became the type of a government not only to sovereigns, but also to nations, during the seventeenth century." While France was thus strong and united in herself, and ruled by a martial, an ambitious, and (with all his faults) an enlightened and high-spirited sovereign, what European power was there fit to cope with her or keep her in check? " As to Germany, the ambitious projects of the German branch * " History of European Civilization," Lecture 13. BATTLE OF BLEXHE/M. 219 of Austria had been entirely defeated, the peace of the empire had been restored, and almost a new constitution formed, or an old revived, by the treaties of Westphalia ; nay, the imperial eagle was not only fallen, but he?' icings ivere clipped."* As to Spain, the Spanish branch of the Austrian house had sunk equally low. Philip II. left his successors a ruined monarchy. He left them something worse ; he left them his example and his principles of government, founded in ambition, in pride, in igno- rance, in bigotry, and all the pedantry of state, t It is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that France, in the first war of Louis XIV"., despised the opposition of both branches of the once predominant house of Austria. Indeed, in Germany, the French king acquired allies among the princes of the empire against the emperor himself. He had a still stronger support in Austria's misgovernment of her own subjects. The words of Bolingbroke on this are remarkable, and some of them sound as if written within the last three years. Bolingbroke says, "It was not merely the want of cordial co-operation among the princes of the empire that disabled the emperor from acting with vigor in the cause of his family then, nor that has rendered the house of Austria a dead weight vipon all her allies ever since. Bigotry, and its inseparable companion, cruelty, as well as the tyranny and avarice of the court of Vienna, created in those days, and has maintained in ours, almost a jDerpetual diversion of the imperial arms from all efifectual opposition to France. / mean to speak of the troubles in Hungary. Whatever they became in their progress, they were caused originally by the usui'pations and persecutions of the emperor ; and when the Hun- garians were called rebels first, they were called so for no other reason than this, that they tcould not be slaves. The dominion of the emperor being less supportable than that of the Turks, this unhappy people opened a door to the latter to infest the empire, instead of making their country what it had been before, a barrier against the Ottoman power. France became a sure though secret ally of the Turks as well as the Hungarians, and has found her account in it by keeping the emperor in perpetual alarms on that side, while she has ravaged the empire and the Low Countries on the other. 'J If, after having seen the imbecility of Germany and Sixain * BoUnghroke, vol. 11., p. 378. Lord Bollngtorokes ' ■ Letters on the Use ol ULstory,'' and Ills " sketch of the History and State of Europe," abound with remarks on Louis XIV. and his contemporaries, of ^ hlch the substance Is as sound as the style Is beautiful. I'nfdrtunately, like all his other works, they contain also a large proportion of sophistry and misrepresenta- tion. The best test to use before we adopt any opinion or assertion of Bollngbroke's, Is to consider whether In writing It he was thinking either of Sir Robert Walpole or of Kevcaled KeUglon. When either of these objects of his hatred was before his mind, he scrupled at no artifice or exaggeration that might serve the purpose of his malignity. On most other occasions he may be followed with advantage, as he always may be read with pleasure. t Bolingbroke, vol. 11,. p. a7b. JBoUngbroke, vol. U., p. 397. 220 DECISIVE BATTLES. against the France of Louis XIV., we turn to the two only remain- ing European powers of any importance at that time, to England and to Holland, we find the position of our own country as to European politics, from 1660 to 1688, most painful to contemi^lute ; nor is our external hi:;tory during the last twelve years of the eighteenth century by any means satisfactory to national pride, though it is infinitely less shameful than that of the preceding twenty-eight years. From 1660 to 1668, "England, by the return of the Stuarts, was reduced to a nullity." The words are Michel- et's, * and, though severe, they are just. They are, in fact, not severe enough ; for when England, under her restored dynasty of the Stuarts, did not take any part in European politics, her con- duct, or rather her king's conduct, was almost invariably wicked and dishonorable. Bolingbroke rightly says that, previous to the revolution of 1688, during the whole progress that Louis XIV. made toward ac- quiring such exhorbitant power as gave him well-grounded lioj^es of acquii-ing at last to his family the Spanish monarchy,England had been either an idle sj^ectator of what passed on the Continent, or a faint and uncertain ally against France, or a warm and sure ally on her side, or a partial mediator between her and the powers con- federated together in their common defense. But though the coiirt of England submitted to abet the usiarpations of France, and the King of England stooped to be her pensioner, the crime was not national. On the contrary, the nation cried out loudly against it even while it was committing, f Holland alone, of all the European powers, opposed from the very beginning a steady and uniform resistance to the ambition and power of the French king. It was against Holland that the fiercest attacks of France were made, and, though often apparently on the eve of complete success, they were always ultimately bafSed by the stubborn bravery of the Dutch, and the heroism of their great leader, William of Orange. When he became King of England, the power of this country was thrown decidedly into the scale against Fi-ance ; but though the contest was thus rendered less unequal, though William acted throughout "with invincible firmness, like a patriot andahero,"| France had the general supe- riority in every war and in every treaty ; and the commencement of the eighteenth century found the lastleagi^eagainsther dissolv- ed, all the forces of the confederates against her dispersed, and many disbanded ; while France contini;ed armed, with her veteran forces by sea and land increased, and held in readiness to act on all sides, whenever the ojiportunity should arise for seizing on the great prizes which, from the very beginning of his reign, had never been lost sight of by her king. * " nistoire 3Joderne," vol. 11., p. 106. t BollDgbroke, vol. 11., 41& t HDld,,p. 404. BATTLE OF BLEXIIEIM. 221 This is not the place for any narrative of the first essay -which Louis XIV. made of his power in the -war of 1667 ; of his rapid conquest of Flanders and Franche-Comte ; of the treaty of Aixla Chapelle, which "was nothing more than a composition between the bully and the bullied "* of his attack on Holland in 1672 ; of the districts and the barrier towis of the Spanish Netherlands, which were secured to him by the treaty of Nimeguen in 1678 ; of how, after this treaty, he "continued to vex both Spain and tha empire, and to extend his conquests in the Low Countries and on the Ehine, both by the pen and the sword ; how he tookLiixem- bourg by force, stole Strasburg, and bought Casal ;" of how the league of Augsburg was formed against him in 1686, and the elec- tion of "William of Orange to the English throne in 1688 gave a new spirit to the opposition which France encountered ; of the long and checkered war that followed, in which the French armies were generally victorious on the Continent, though his fleet were beaten at La Hogue, and his dependent, James II., was defeated at the Boyne ; or of the treaty of Ryswick, which left France in possession of Eoussillon, Artois, and Strasburg, which gave Europe no security against her claims on the Spanish succession, and which Louis regarded as a mere truce, to gain breathing-time be- fore a more decisive struggle. It must be borne in mind that the ambition of Louis in these wars was two-fold. It had its immediate and its ulterior objects. Its immediate object was to conquer and annex to France the neighboring pro%ances and towns that were most convenient for the increase of her strength, but the ulterior object of Louis, from the time of his marriage to the Si^anish In- fanta in 1659, was to acquire for the hoiise of Bourbon the whole empire of Sj^ain. A formal renunciation of all right to the Spanish succession had been made at the time of the marriage; but such renunciations were never of any practical effect, and many casu- ists and jurists of the age even held them to be intrinsically void. As the time passed on, and the prosj^ect of Charles II. of Spain dying without lineal heirs became more and more certain, so did the claims of the house of Bourbon to the Si:)anish crown after his death become matters of urgent interest to French ambition on the one hand, and to the other powers of Europe on the other. At length the unhappy King of Spain died. By his will he appointed Phihp, duke of Anjou, one of Louis XIV. 's grandsons, to succeed him on the throne of Sj^ain, and strictly forbade any partition of his dominions. Louis well knew that a general European war would follow if he accepted for his house the crown thus bequeath- ed. But he had been preparing for this crisis throughout his reign. He sent his grandson into Spain as King Philip V. of that country, addressing to him, on his dei^arture, the memorable words, " There are no longer any Pyrenees." * Ibid., p. 399. 222 DECISIVE BATTLES. The empire, which now received the grandson of Louis as its king, comprised besides Spain itself, the strongest part of the Netherlands, Sardinia, Sicily, Naples, the principality of Milan, and other possessions in Italy, the Philipi^ines and Manilla Islands in Asia, and in the New World, besides California and Florida, the greatest part of Central and of Southern America. Philip was well received in Madrid, where he was crowned as King Philip V. in the beginning of 1701. The distant portions of his empire sent m their adhesion; and the house of Bourbon, either by its French or Spanish troops, now had occupation both of the kingdom of Francis I., and of the fairest and amplest portions of the empire of the great rival of Francis, Charles V. Loud was the wrath of Austria, whose princes were the rival claimants of the Bourbons for the empire of Spain. The indigna- tion of our William III., though not equally loud, was far more deep and energetic. - By his exertions, a league against the house of Bourbon was formed between England, Holland.and the Austrian emperor, which was subsequently joined by the kings of Portu- gal and Prussia, by the Duke of Savoy, and by Denmark. Indeed, the alarm throughout Europe was now general and urgent. It was evident that Louis aimed at consolidating France and the Spanish dominions into one preponderating empire. At the mo- ment when Philip was departing to take possession of Spain, Louis had issued letters-patent in his favor to the effect of preserving his rights to the throne of France. And Louis had himself obtained possession of the important frontier of the Spanish Netherlands with its numerous fortified cities, which were given up to his troops under pretense of securing them for the young King of Spain. Whether the formal union of the two crowns was likely to take place speedily or not, it was evident that the resources of the whole Spanish monarchy were now virtually at the French king's dispo.sal. The ^eril that seemed to menace the empire, England, Holland, and the other independent powers is well summed up by Alison. "Spain had threatened the liberties of Europe in the end of the sixteenth century. France had all but overthrown them in the close of the seventeenth. What hope was there of there being able to make head against them both, united under such a monarch as Louis XIV. ? "* Our knowledge of the decayed state into which the Spanish power had fallen ought not make us regard their alarms as chi- merical. Spain possessed enormous resources, and her strength was capable of being regenerated by a vigorous ruler. We should remember what Albei'oni effected even after the close of the war of Succession. By what that minister did in a few years, we may judge what Louis XIV. would have done in restoring the mari- * " Military History of the Duke of Marlborough," p. 32. BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 223 time and military power of that great country, which nature had so largely gifted, and which man's misgovernment has so de- based. The death of King William, on the 8th of March, 1702, at first seemed likely to paralyze the league against France ; " for, not- withstanding the ill success with which he made war generally, he was looked upon as the sole center of union that could keep together the great confederacy then forming ; and how much the French feared from his life had appeared a few years before, in the extravagant and indecent joy they expressed on a false report of his death. A short time showed how vain the fears of some, and the hope of others were."* Queen Anne, within three days after her accession, went down to the House of Lords, and there declared her resolution to support the measures planned by her predeces- sor, who had been " the great supi^ort, not only of these kingdoms, but of all Europe." Anne was married to Prince George of Den- mark, and by her accession to the English throne the confederacy against Louis obtained the aid of the troops of Denmark ; but Anne's strong attachment to one of her female friends led to far more important advantages to the anti-Gallican confederacy than the acquisition of many armies, for it gave them Maelborouqh as their captain general. There are few successful commanders on whom France has shone so unwillingly as upon John Churchill, duke of Marlborough, prince of the Holy Koman Empire, victor of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet, cajDtor of Liege, Bonn, Limburg, Lan- dau, Ghent, Bruges, Antwerp, Oudenarde, Ostend, Menin, Den- dermonde, Ath, Lille, Tournay, Mons, Dounay, Aire, Bethune, and Bouchain ; who never fought a battle that he did not win, and never besieged a place that he did not take. Marlborough's own character is the cause of this. Military glory may, and too often does, dazzle both contemporaries and posterity, until the crimes as well as the vices of heroes are forgotten. But even a few stains of per- sonal meanness will dim a soldier's reputation irreparably ; and Marlborough's faults were of a peculiarly base and mean order. Our feelings toward historical personages are in this respect like our feelings toward private acquaintances. There are actions of that shabby nature, that however much they may be outweighed by a man's good deeds on a general estimate of his character, we never can feel any cordial liking for the person who has once been guilty of them. Thus, with respect to the Duke of Marlborough, it goes against our feelings to admire the man who owed his first advancement in life to the court favor which he and his family acquired through his sister becoming one of the mistresses of the Duke of York. It is repulsive to know that Marlborough laid the foundation of his wealth by being the paid lover of one of the fair * BoUngbroke, vol, U., 445. 224 DECISIVE BATTLES. and frail fiivoritcs of Charles II.* His treachery, and his ingrati- tude to his patron and benefactor, James 11., stand out in dark relief, even in that age of thankless pertidy. He was almost equally disloyal to his new master. King William ; and a more iin-Eng- lish act cannot be recorded than Godolphin's and Marlborough's betrayal to the French cotirtin 1694 of the expedition then designed against Brest, a piece of treachery which caused some hundreds of English soldiers and sailors to be helplessly slaughtered on the beach in Cameret Bay. It is, however, only in his military career that we have now to consider him; and there are very few generals, of either ancient or modern times, whose campaigns will bear a comjiarison with those of Marlborough, either for the masterly skill with which they were planned, or for the bold yet prudent energy with which each plan was carried into execution. Marlborough had served while young under Turenne, and had obtained the marked praise of this great tactician. It would be difficult, indeed, to name a single quality which a general ought to have, and with which Marlborough was not eminently gifted. What princijially attracted the notice of contemijoraries was the imperturbable evenness of his spirit. Voltaire* says of him. "He had, to a degree above all other generals of his time, that calm courage in the midst of tumult, that serenity of soul in dan- ger, which the English call a cool head [que les Anglais appellent co!d head, tete fro'ide'], and it was, perhaps, this quality, the greatest gift of nature for command, which formerly gave the English so many advantages over the French in the plains of Cressy, Poic- tiers, and Agincourt." King William's knowledge of Marlborough's high abilities.though he knew his faithlessness equally well, is said to have caused that sovereign in his last illness to recommend Marlborough to his successor as the fittest person to command her armies ; but Marl- borough's favor with the new queen, by means of his wife, was so high, that he was certain of obtaining the highest employment ; and the war against Louis opened to him a glorious theater for the display of those military talents, which he had previously only had an opportunity of exercising in a subordinate character, and on far less conspicuous scenes. He was not only made captain general of the English forces at home and abroad, but such was the authority of England in the council of the Grand Alliance, and Marlborough was so skilled in winning golden opinions from all whom he met with, that on his reaching the Hague, he was received with transports of joy by the * JIarlborougli might plead tlie example of Sylla in this. Compare the anecdote la Plutarcli about Sylla when young and NlcopoUs, ■Koivi'/i hev, EVTiopov 8s yvvaiuoi, and the anecdote about Marlborough and the Duchess of Cleveland, told by Lord Chesterfield, and cited in Alacaulay's '■ History,'' vol. 1., p. 461 . t " ijiecle de Louis QuatoiTie." BATTLE OF BLENHEBf. 225 Dutch, and it was ngreed by the heads of that republic, and the minister of the emperor, that Marlborough should have the chief command of all the allied armies. It must, indeed, in justice to Marlborough, be borne in mind, that mere military skill M-as by no means all that was required of him in his arduous and invidiovis station. Had it not been for his unrivalled patience and sweetness of temper, and his marvelous ability in discerning the character of those whom he had to act with, his intuitive perception of those who were to be thoroughly trusted, and of those who were to be amused with the mere sem- blance of respect and confidence ; had not Marlborough possessed and employed, while at the head of the allied armies, all the qiial- ifications of a polished courtier and a great statesman, he never would have led the allied armies to the Danube. The confederacy would not have held together for a single year. His greatest political adversary, Bolingbroke, does him ample justice here. Bolingroke, after referring to the loss which King William's death seemed to inflict on the cause of the allies, observes that, " By his death, the Duke of Marlborough was raised to the head of the army, and, indeed, of the confederacy; where he, a new, a private man, a siibject, acquired by merit and by management a more deciding influence than high birth, confirmed authority, and even the crown of Great Britain had given to King William. Not only all the parts of that vast machine, the Grand Alliance, were kept more compact and entire, but a more rapid and vigorous motion was given to the whole ; and, instead of languishing and disastrous campaigns, we saw every scene of the war full of action. All those wherein he appeared, and many of those wherein he was not then an actor, but abettor, however, of their action, were crowned with the most triumphant success. "I take with pleasure this opportunity of doing justice to that great man, whose faults I knew, whose virtues I admired ; and whose memory, as the greatest general and the greatest minister that our country, or perhaps any other, has produced, I honor."* War was forrually declared by the allies against France on the 4th of May, 1702. The principal scenes of its ojieration were, at first, Flanders, the Upper Ehine, and North Italy. Marl- borough headed the allied troops in Flanders during the first two years of the war, and took some towns from the enemy, but noth- ing decisive occurred. Nor did any actions of importance take ]dace during this period between the rival armies in Italy. But in the center of that line from north to south, from the mouth of the Scheldt to the mouth of the Po. along wliich the war wan car- ried on, the generals of Louis XIV. acquired advantages in 1703 wliich threatened one chief member of the Grand Alliance with utter destruction. France had obtained the important assistance * Bollngtroke, vol. 11 , p. 445. D.B.-8 226 DECISIVE BAT7LES. of Bavaria as her confederate in the war. The elector of this pow- erful German state made himself master of tlie strong fortress of IJlm, and opened a cdminnnication with the French armies on tho Upper Khiue. By tais junction, tho troops of Louis were enabled to assail tlie emperor in tue very heart of Germany. In the autumn of the year 1703, the combined ai-mies of the elector and French king completely defeated the Imperialists in Bavaria : and in the following winter they made themselves masters of the important cities of Augsburg and Passau. Meanwhile the French army of the Upper llhine and Moselle had beaten the allied armies opposed to them, and taken Treves with Landau. At the same time, the discontents in Hungary with Austria again broke out into oi^en insurrection, so as to distract the attention and complete the terror of the emperor and his council at Vienna. Louis XIV. ordered the next campaign to be commenced by his troops on a scale of grandeur and with a boldness of enterprise such as even Napoleon's military schemes have seldom equalled. On the extreme left of the line of war, in the Netherlands, the French armies were to act only on the defensive. The fortresses in the hands of the French tliera were so many and so strong, that no serious impression seemed likely to be made by the allies on the Freuch frontier in that qnarter during one campaign, andthatone campaign was to give France such triumphs elsewhere as would (it was hoped) determine the war-. Large detachments were there- fore to be made from the French force in Flanders, and they were to be led by Marshal Villeroy to the Moselle and Upper Ehine. The French army already in the neighborhood of those rivers was to march under Marshal Tallard through the Black Forest and join the Elector of Bavaria, and the French troops that were already with the elector under Marshal Marsin. Meanwhile the French army of Italy was to advance through the Tyrol into Austria, and the whole forces were to combine between the Danube and the Inn. A strong body of troops was to be dispatched into Hungary, to assist and organize the insurgents in that kingdom; and the French grand army of the Danube was then in collected and irresistible might to march upon Vienna, and dictate terms of peace to the emperor. High military genius was shown in the formation of this plan, but it was met and baffled by a genius higher still. Marlborough had watched, with the deepest anxiety, the progress of the French arms on the Ehine and in Bavaria, and he saw the futility of carrying on a war of posts and sieges in Flanders, while death-blows to the emijire were being dealt on the Danube. He resolved, therefore, to let the war in Flanders languish for a year, while he moved with all the disposable forces that he could collect to the central scenes of decisive operations. Such a march was in itself difficult; but Marlborough had, in the first instance, to overcome the still greater difficulty of obtaining the consent and cheerful co-operation of tho allies, especially of tho Dutch, whosa BATTLE Of BLESIIEIM. 227 frontier it was proposed thus to deprive of the larger part of the force which had hitherto been its protection: Fortunately, among the many slothful, the many foolish, the many timid, and the not few treacheroTis rulers, statesmen, and generals of different nations with whom he had to deal, there were two men, eminent both in ability and integrity, who entered fully into Marlborough's projects, and wl;o, from the stations which they occiipied, were enabled materially to forward them. One of these was the Dutch statesman Heinsius, who had been the cordial supporter of King William, and who now, with equal zeal and good faith, supjDorted Marl- borough in the councils of the allies; the other was tlie celebrated general, Prince Eugene, whom the Austrian cabinet had recalled from the Italian frontier to take the command of one of the emperor's armies in Germany. To these two great men, and a few more, Marl- borough communicated his plan freely and unreservedly; but to the general councils of his allies h's only disclosed part of his dar- ing scheme. He proposed to the Dutch that he should march from Flanders to the Uj^per Khine and Moselle with the British troops and part of the foreign auxiliaries, and commence vigorous opera- tions against the French armies in that quarter, while General Auverquerque, with the Dutch and the remainder of the auxiliaries, maintained a defensive war in the Netherlands. Having with diffi- culty obtained the consent of the Dutch to this portion of his pro- ject, he exercised the same diplomatic zeal, with the same success, in urging the King of Prussia and other princes of the emjaire, to increase the number of the troops which they supplied, and to post them in places convenient for his own intended movements. Marlborough commenced his celebrated march on the 19th of May. The army which he was to lead had been assembled by his brother, General Churchill, at Bedburg, not far from Maestricht, on the Meuse: it included sixteen thousand English troops, and consisted of fifty-one battalions of foot, and ninety -two squadrons of horse. Marlborough was to collect and join with him on his march the troops of Prussia, Luneburg, and Hesse, quartered on the Khine, and eleven Dutch battalions that were stationed at Eoth- weil." He had only marched a single day, when the series of inter- ruptions, complaints, and requisitions from the other leaders of the allies began, to which he seemed subjected throughout his enterj^rise, and which would have caused its failure in the hands of any one not gifted with the firmness and the exquisite temper of Marl- borough. One specimen of these annoyances rnd of Marlborough's mode of dealing with them may suffice. On his encamping at Kupen on the 20th, he recieved an express from Auverquerque pressing him to halt, because Villeroy, who commanded the French army in Flanders, had quitted the lines which he had been occupying, and crossed the Meuse at Namur with thirty-six battal- * Coxe's " Life of Marlborougli." 228 DECISIVE BATTLES. ions and forty-five squadrons, and was threatening the town oj Huys. At the same time Marlborongh received letters from the Margrave of Baden and Count Wratislaw, who commanded the Im. perialist forces at Stollhoflen, near the left bank of the lihino, stating that Tallard had made a movement as if intending to cros.i the lihine, and urging him to hasten his march towards the lines of Stollhoffen. Marlborough was not diverted by these applica. tions from the prosecution of his grand design. Conscious tha( the army of Villeroy would be too much rediiced to undertake offensive operations, by the detachments which had already been made toward the Ehine, and those which must follow his own march, he halted only a day to quiet the alarms of Auverquerque. To satisfy also the margrave, he ordered the troops of Hompesch and Bulow to draw toward Philipsburg, though with private injunc- tions not to proceed beyond a certain distance. He even exacted a promise to the same eftect from Count Wratislaw, who at the junc- ture arrived at the camp to attend him during the whole campaign.* Marlborough reached the lihine at Coblentz, where he crossed that river, and then marched along its left bank to Broubach and Mt ntz. His march, thoiigh rapid, was admirably conducted, so as to save the troops from all unnecessary fatigue; ample supplies of provi- sions were ready, and the most perfect discipline was maintained. By degrees Marlborough obtained more re-enforcements from the Dutch'and the other confederates, and healso wasleftmore at liberty by them to follow his own course. Indeed before even a blow was struck, his enterprise had paralyzed the enemy, and had material- ly released Austria from the pressure of the war. Villeroy, with his detachments from the French Flemish army, was completely bewildered by Marlborough's movements; and, unable to divine where it was that the English general meant to strike his blow, wasted away the early part of the summer between Flanders and the Moselle without effecting any thing, f Marshal Tallard who commanded forty-five thousand French at Strasburg, and who had been destined by Louis to march early in the year into Bavaria, thought that Marlborough's march along the Khine was preliminary to an attack upon Alsace; and the Mar- shal therefore kept his iorty-five thousand men back in order to protect France in that quarter. JMarlborough skilfully encouraged his apprehensions, by causing a bridge to constructed across the Ehine at Philipsburg, and by making the Landgrave of Hesse ad- vance his artillery at Manhei'm, as if for a siege at Landau. Mean- while the Elector of Bavaria and Marshal Marsin, suspecting that Marlborough's design might be what it really proved to be, forebode * Coxe. t " JSiarshal villeroy," says Voltaire, "who had wished to follow Marl- horougli on his first marches, suddenly lost sight cf him altogether, and only learned where he really was on hearing ol his victoiy at Donawert." SiecU de Louis XIV. BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 229 to press -upon the Austrians opposed to them, or to send troops intc Hungary; and they kept back so as to secure their communications with France. Thus, when Marlborough, at the beginning of June, left the Rhine and marched for the Danube, the numerous hostile armies were uncombined, and unable to check him. " With such skill and science had this enterprise been concerted, that at the very moment when it assumed a specific direction, the enemy was no longer enabled to render it abortive. As the march was now to be bent toward the Danube, notice was given for the Prussians, Palatines, and Hessians, who were stationed on the Rhine, to order their march so as to join the main body in its prog- ress. At the same time, directions were sent to accelerate the advance of the Danish auxiliaries, who were marching from the Netherlands."* Crossing the River Neckar, Marlborough marched in a southeast- ern direction to Mundelshene, where he had his first personal interview with Prince Eugene, who was destined to be his colleague on so many glorious fields. Thence, through a difficult and dan- gerous country, Marlborough continued his march against the Ba- varians, whom he encountered on the 2d of July on the heights of the SchuUenberg, near Donauwert. Marlborough stormed their intrenched camp, crossed the Danube, took several strong places in Bavaria, and made himself completely master of the elector's dominions, except the fortified cities of Munich and Augsburg. But the elector's army, though defeated at Donauwert, was still numerous and strong: and at last Marshal Tallard, when thorough- ly apprised of the real nature of Marlborough's movements, crossed the Rhine; and being suffered, through the sui^ineness of the Ger- man General at Stollhoften, to march without loss through the Black Forest, he united his powerful army at Biberbach, near Augs- biarg, with that of the elector and the French troops under Marshal Marsin, who had previously been co-operating with the Bavarians^ On the other hand, Marlborough recrossed the Danube, and on the 11th oi August united his army with the Imperialist forces under Prince Eugene. The combined armies occupied a position near Hochstadt, a little higher up the left bank of the Danube than Donauwert, the scene of Marlboroi;gh's recent victory, and almost exactly on the ground where Marshal Villars and the elector had defeated an Austrian army in the preceding year. The French marshals and the elector were now in position a little farther to the east, between Blenheim and Lutzingen, and with the little stream of the Nebel between them and the troops of ilarlborough and Eugene. The Gallo-Bavarian army con- sisted of about sixty thousand men, and they had sixty-one pieces cf artillery. The army of the allies was about fifty-six thousand strong with fifty-two guns. • Coxe. 230 DECISIVE BATTLES. Althoiigh tlie French nrmy of Italy had been imable to pene- trate into Aiistria, and although the masterly strategy of Marl- borough had hithefto warded off the destruction with which the cause of the allies seemed menaced at the beginning of the cam- paign, the peril was still most serious. It was absolutely neces- sary for Marlborough to attack the enemy before Villeroy should be roiised into action. There was nothing to stop that general and his army from marching into Franconia, whence the allies drew their princiijal supplies; and besides thiis distressing them, he might, by marching on and joining his army to those of Tal- lard and the elector, form a mass which woiild overwhelm the force under Marlborough and Erigene. On the other hand, the chances of a battle seemed perilous, and the fatal consequences of a defeat were certain. The disadvantage of the allies in point of number was not very great, but still it was not to be disregarded ; and the advantage which the enemy seemed to have in the com- position of their troops was striking. Tallard and Marsin had forty-five thousand Frenchmen under them, all veterans and all trained to act together; the elector's own troops also were good soldiers. Marlborough, like Wellington at Waterloo, headed an arm J', of which the larger proportion consisted not of English, but of men of many different nations and many different languages. He was also obliged to be the assailant in the action, and thus to expose his troops to comparatively heavy loss at the commence- ment of the battle, while the enemy would tight under the protec- tion of the villages and lines which they were actively engaged in strengthening. The consequences of a defeat of the confederated army must have broken up the Grand Alliance, and realized the proudest hopes of the French king Mr. Alison, in his admirable military history of the Duke of Marlborough, has truly stated the effects which would have taken place if France had been suc- cessful in the war; and when the position of the confederates at the time when Blenheim was fought is remembered — when we recollect the exhaustion of Atistria, the menacing insurrection of Hungary, the feuds and jealoiisies of the German princes, the strength and activity of the Jacobite party in England, and the imbecility of nearly all the Dutch statesmen of the time, and the weakness of Holland if deprived of her allies, we may adopt his words in speculating on what would have ensued if France had been victorious in the battle, and "if a power, animated by the ambition, giiided by the fanaticism, and directed by the ability of that of Louis XIV., had gained the ascendency in Europe. Beyond all question, a universal despotic dominion would have been established over the bodies, a cruel sj^iritual thraldom over the minds of men. France and Spain ignited under Bourbon princes and in a close family alliance — the empire Charlemagne with that of Charles V. — the power which revoked the Edict of Nantes and perpetrated the massacre of St. Bartholomew, with that which ban- BATTLE OF BLENUmM. 231 ished the Moriscoes and established the Inquisition, -would have proved irresistible, and beyond example destructive to the best interests of mankind. "The Protestants might have been driven, like the pagan hea- thens of old by the son of Pejjin, beyond the Elbe; the Stuart race, and with them Piomish ascendency, might have been re-establish- ed in England; the fire lighted by Latimer and Pddley might have been extinguished in blood; and the energy breathed by religious freedom into the Anglo-Saxon race might have ex- pired. The destinies of the world would have been changed. Europe, instead of a variety of independent states, whose mutual hostility kept alive courage, while their national rivalry simu- lated talent, would have sunk into the slumber attendant on uni- versal dominion. The colonial empire of England would have ■withered away and perished, as that of Spain has dene in the grasp of the Inquisition. The Anglo-Saxon race would have been arrest- ed in its mission to overspread the earth and subdue it. The centralized despotism of the Poman emjiire would have been re- newed on Continental Eurojie; the chains of Romish tyranny, and with them the general infidelity of France before the Revolu- tion, would have extinguished or i^erverted thought in the British Islands."* Marlborough's words at the council of war, when a battle was resolved on, are remarkable, and they deserve recording. We know them on the authority of his chaplain, Mr. (afterward Bishop) Hare, who accompanied him throughout the campaign, and in whose joxirnal the biographers of Marlborough have found many of their best materials. Marlborough's words to the olhcers who remonstrated with him on the seeming temerity of attacking the enemy in their position were, "I know the danger, yet a battle is absolutely necessary, and I rely on the bravery and discipline of the troops, which will make amends for our disadvantages." In the evening orders were issued for a general engagement, and received by the army with an alacrity which justified his confi- dence. The French and Bavarians were posted behind a little stream called the Nebel, which runs almost from north to south into the Danube immediately in front of the village of Blenheim. The Nebel flows along a little valley, and the French occupied the rising ground to the west of it. The village of Blenheim was the extreme right of their position, and the village of Lutzingen, about three miles north of Blenheim, Ibrmed their left. Beyond Lutzingen are the rugged high grounds of the Godd Berg and Eicli Berg, on the skirts of which some detachments were posted, so as to secure the Gallo-Bavarian position from being turned on the left flank. The Danube secured their right flank; and it was only in * Alison's " Life ol Marlborough," p. 248. 232 DECISIVE BATTLES. front that they could be attacked. The villages of Blenheim and Lutzingen had been strongly palisaded and intrenched. Mar- shal Tallar.d, who held the chief command, took his station at Blenheim; the elector and Marshal Marsin commanded on the lelt. Tallard garrisoned Blenheim with twenty-six battalions of French infantry and twelve squadrons of French cavalry. Marsin and the elector had twenty-two battalions of infantry and thirty- six squadrons of cavalry in front of the village of Lutzingen. The center was occupied by fourteen battalions of infantry, including the celebrated Irish brigade. These were posted in the little hamlet of Oberglau, which lies somewhat nearer to Lutzingen than to Blenheim. Eighty squadrons of cavalry and seven battalions of foot were ranged between Oberglau and Blenheim. Thiis the French position was very stong at each extremity, but was com- paratively weak in the center. Tallard seems to have relied on the swampy state of the part of the valley that reaches from below Oberglau to Blenheim for preventing any serious attack on this part of his line. The army of the allies was formed into two great divisions, the largest being commanded by the duke in person, and being des- tined to act against Tallard, while Prince Eugene led the other division, which consisted chiefly of cavalry, and was intended to oppose the enemy under Marsin and the elector. As they approach- ed the enemy, Marlborough's troops formed the left and the center, while Eugene's formed the right of the entire army. Early in the morning of the 13th of August, the allies left their own camp and marched toward the enemy. A thick haze covered the ground, and it was not until the allied right and center had advanced nearly within cannon shot of the enemy that Tallard was aware of their approach. He made his preparations with what haste he could, and about eight o'clock a heavy fire of artillery was opened from the Frei^ch right on the advancing left wing of the British. Marlborough ordered u^i some of his batteries to reply to it, and while the colamns that were to form the allied left and center deployed, and took up their j^roper stations in the line, a warm cannonade was kept up by the guns on both sides. The ground which Eugene's columns had to traverse was pecu- liarly diifieult, especially for the passage of the artillery, and it was nearly mid-day before he could get his troops into line opposite to Lutzingen. During this interval, Marlborough order- ed divine service to be performed by the chaplains at the head of each regiment, and then rode along the lines, and found both offi- cers and men in the highest spirits, and waiting impatiently for the signal for the attack. At length an aide-de-camp galloped up ficom. the right with the welcome news that Eugene was ready. Marlborough instantly sent Lord Cutts, with a strong brigade of infantry, to assault the village of Blenheim, while he himself led the main body down the eastward slope of the vr.Uey of BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 233 the Nebel, and prepared to effect the passage of the stream. The assault on Blenheim, though bravely made, was repulsed with severe loss; and Marlborough, finding how strongly that vil- lage was garrisoned, desisted from any farther attempts to carry it, and bent all his energies to breaking the enemy's line between Blenheim and Oberglau. Some temporary bridges bad been pre- pared, and planks and fascines had been collected; and by the aid of these, and a little stone bridge which crossed the ISiebel, near a hamlet called Unterglau, that lay in the center of the val- ley, Marlboroi^gh succeeded in getting several squadrons across the Nebel, though it was divided into several branches, and the ground between them was soft, and, in jjlaces, little better than a mere marsh. But the French artillery was not idle. The cannon balls phinged incessantly among the advancing squadrons of the allies, and bodies of French cavalry rode frequently down from the western ridge, to charge them before they had time to form on the firm ground. It was only by supporting his men by fresh troops, and by bringing v.^ infantry, who checked the advance of the enemy's horse by their steady fire, that Marlborough was able to save his army in this quarter from a rej^ulse, which, succeeding the failure of the attack ujDon Blenheim, would probably have been latal to the allies. By degrees, his cavalry struggled over the blood-stained streams; the infantry were also now brought across, so as to keep in check the French troops who held Blenheim, and who, when no longer assailed in front, had begun to attack the allies on their left with considerable effect. Marlborough had thus at last succeeded in drawing up the whole left wing of his army beyond the Nebel, and was about to press forward with it, when he was called away to another jaart of the field by a disaster that had befallen his center. The Prince of Holstein Beck had, with eleven Hanoverian battalions, passed the Kebel opi^osite to Oberglau, when he was charged and utterly routed by the Irish brigade which held that village. The Irish drove the Hanoverians back with l-eavy slaughter, broke completely through the line of the allies, and nearly achieved a success as brilliant as that which tiie same brigade afterward gained at Fontenoy. But at Blenheim their ardor in pursuit led them too far. Marlborough came up in person, and dashed in upon the exposed tlank of the brigade with some squadrons of British cavalry. The Irish reeled back, and as they strove to regain the height of Uberglau, their column was raked through and throiigh by the fire of three bat- talions of the allies, which Marlborough had summoned up from the reserve. Marlborough having re-established the order and communications of the allies in this qiiarter, now, as he returned to his own left wing, sent to learn how his colleague fared against Marsin and the elector, and to inform Eugene of his own success. Eugene had hitherto not been equally fortunate. He had made three attacks on the enemy opposed to him, and had been thrice 234 DECISIVE BATTLES. driven back. It was only l)y liis own desperate personal exertions, and the remarkable steadiness of the regiments of Prussian in- fantry which were under him, that he was to save his wing from being totally defeated. But it was on the southern part of the battle-field, on the ground which Marlborough had won beyond the Nebel with such difficulty, that the crisis of the battle was to be decided. Like Hannibal, Marlborough relied principally on his cavalry for achieving his decisive siiccesses, and it was by his cavalry that Blenheim, the greatest of his victories, was won. The battle had lasted till live in the afternoon. Marlborough had now eight thousand horsemen drawn up in two lines, and in the most per- fect order for a general iiltack on the enemy's line along the sj^ace between Blenheim and Oberglau. The infantry was drawn uj) in battalions in their rear, so as to support them if repulsed, and to keep in check the large masses of the French that still occujiied the village of Blenheim. Tallard now interlaced his squadrons of cavalry with battalions of infantry ; and Marlborough, by a cor- responding movement, brought several regiments of infantry, and some pieces of artillery, to his front line at intervals between the bodies of horse. A little after five, Marlborough commenced the decisive movement, and the allied cavalry, strengthened and sup- ported by foot and guns, advanced slowly from the lower ground near the Nebel up the slope to where the French cavalry, ten thousand strong, awaited them. Cn riding over the summit of the acclivity, the allies were received with so hot a fire from the French artillery and small arms, that at first the cavalry recoiled, but without abandoning the high ground. The guns and the in- fantry which they had brought with them maintained the contest with si^irit acd effect. The French fire seemed to slacken. Marl- borough instantly ordered a charge along the line. The allied cavalry galloped forward at the enemy's scjuadrons, and the hearts of the French horsemen failed them. Discharging their carbines at an idle distance, they wheeled round and spurred from the field, leaving the nine infantry battalions of their comrades to be ridden down by the torrent of the allied cavalry. The battle was now won. Tallard and Marsin, severed from each other, thought only of retreat. Tallard drew up the squadrons of horse that he had left, in a line extended toward Blenheim, and sent orders to the infantry in that villoge to leave it and join him without delay. But, long ere his orders could be obeyed, the conquering squad- rons of Marlborough had wheeled to the leit and thundered down on the feeble array of the French marshal. Part of the force which Tallard had drawn up for this last effort was driven into the Dan- ube ; part fled with their general to the village of Sonderheim, where they were ^oon surrolmded by the victorious allies, and compelled to surrender. Jleanwhile, Eugene had renewed his at- tack upon the Gallo-Bavarian left, and Marsin, finding his col- STNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. '235 league utterly routed, and his o'n-n riglit flank uncovered, pre- pared to retreat. He and the elector succeeded in withdrawing a considerable part of their troops in tolerable order to Dillingen ; but the large body of French who garrisoned Blenheim were left exposed to certain destruction. Marlborough speedily occupied all the outlets from the village with his victorious troops, and then, collecting his artillery round it, he commenced a cannonade that speedily would have destroyed Blenheim itself and all who were in it. After several gallant but unsuccessful attempts to cut their way through the allies, the French in Blenheim were at length compelled to surrender at discretion ; and twenty-four bat- talions and twelve squadrons, with all their officers, laid down their arms, and became the captives of Marlborough. "Such," says Voltaire, "was the celebrated battle which the French call the battle of Hochstet, the Germans Plentheim, and the English Blenheim. The conquerors had about five thousand killed and eight thousand wounded, the greater part being on the side of Prince Eugene. The French army was almost entirely destroyed : of sixty thousand men, so long victorious, there never reassembled more than twentj^ thousand effective. About twelve thousand killed, fourteen thousand prisoners, all the cannon, a prodigioias number of colors and standards, all the tents and equipages, the general of the army, and one thousand two hun- dred officers of mark in the power of the conqueror, signalized that day ! " Ulm, Landau, Treves, and Traerbach surrendered to the allies before the close of the year. Bavaria submitted to the emperor, and the Hungarians laid down their arms. Germany was com- pletely delivered from France, and the military ascendency of the arms of the allies was completely established. Throughout the rest of the war Lo^is fought only in defense. Blenheim had dissipated forever his cace proud visions of almost universal con- quest. Synopsis of Events bftween the Battlb of Blenheim, a.d. 1704, AND THE BaTILE OF PuLTOWA, A.D. 1709. A.D. 1705. The Archduke Charles lands in Spain vith a small English army under Lord Peterbei'ough, who takes Baroe'ona. 1706. Marlboroiigh's victory at Ramiliies. 1707. The English army in Spiiiu ?s defeated at the butiJL of Almanza. 1708. Marlborough's victory at Gudeoarde- 236 DECISIVE BATTLES. CHAPTER Xn. THE BATTLE OF PULTOWA, A-D. 1709. Dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal swede. Around a slaughtered army lay. No more to combat and to bleed. The power and fortune of the war Had passed to the triumphant Czar. Byron. Napoleon proptcsied, at St. Helena, that all Europe wonld soon be either Cossack or Republican. Three years ago, the fulfill- ment of the last of these alternatives appeared most probable. But the democratic movements of IS'IS were sternly repressed in 1849. The absolute authority of a single ruler, and the austere stillness of martial law, are now paramount in the capitals of the Continent, which lately owned no sovereignty save the will of the multitude, and where that which the Democrat calls his sacred right of insurrection was so loudly asserted and so often fiercely enforced. Many causes have contributed to bring about this re- action, but the most eflective and the most permanent have been Russian influence and Russian arms, Russia is now the avowed and acknowledged champion of monarchy against democracy ; of constituted authority, however acquired, against revolution and change, for whatever purpose desired; of the Imperial supi-emacy of strong states over their weaker neighbors against all claims fcr political independence and all strivings for separate nationality. She had crushed the heroic Hungarians ; and Austria, for whom nominally she crushed them, is now one of her dependents. Whether the rumors of her being about to engage in fresh enter- prises be well or ill founded, it is certain that recent events must have feai-fully augmented the power of the Muscovite empire, which, even previously had been the object of well-founded anx- ietj' to all Western Europe. It was truly stated, eleven years ago, that " the acquisitions which Russia has made within the [then] last sixty-four years are equal in extent and importance to the whole empire she had in Europe before that time; that the acquisitions she has made from Sweden are greater than what i emains of that ancient kingdom ; that her acquisitions from Poland are as large as the whole Aus- trian empire ; that the territory she has wrested from Turkey in Eurojie is equal to the dominions of Priissia, exclusive of her Rhenish provinces ; and that her acquisitions from Turkey in Asia are equal in extent to all the smaller states of Germany, the Rhenish provinces of Prussia, Belgium, and Holland taken to- gether; that the country she has conqueredfrom Persia is about the eize of Englan;! ; that her acquisitions in Taiiary have an ei'ea 'BA TTL E OF r UL TO WA. 23 7 eqnal to Txirke;/ in Europe, Greece, Italy, and Spain. In sixty- four years she has advanced her frontier eight hundred and fifty miles toward Vienna, Berlin, Dresden, Munich, and Paris ; she has approached four hundred and iifty miles nearer to Constanti- nople ; she has possessed herself of the ca[)ital of Poland, and has advanced to within a few miles of the capital of Sweden, from which, when Peter the First mounted the throne, her frontier Avas distant three hundred miles. Since that time she has stretched hei-self forward about one thousand miles toward India, and the same distance toward the capital of Persia."* Such, at that periori, had been the recent aggrandizement of Eussia ; and the events of the last few years, by weakening and disuniting all her European neighljors, have immeasiirably aug- mented the relative superiority of the Muscovite empire over all the other Continental powers. With a population exceeding sixty millions, all implicitly obey- ing the impulse of a single ruling mind ; with a territorial area of six millions and a half of square miles ; with a standing army eight hundred thousand strong ; with powerful fleets on the Baltic and Black Seas ; with a skilful host of diplomatic agents ^danted in every court and among every tribe ; with the contidenca which iinexpected success creates, and the sagacity which long experi- ence fosters, Eussia now grasps, with an armed right hand, the tangled thread of European politics, and issues her mandates as the arbitress of the movements of the age. Yet a century and a half have hardly elapsed since she was first recognized as a mem- ber of the drama of modern European history— previous to the battle of Pultowa, Eussia played no part. Charles V. and his his great rival, our Elizabeth and her adversary Philip of Spain, the Guises, Sully, Eichelieu, Cromwell, De "Witt, William of Orange, and the other leading spirits of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, thought no more about the Muscovite Czar than we now think about the King of Timbuctoo. Even as late as 1735, Lord Bolingbroke, in his admirable "Letters of History," speaks of the history of the Miascovites as having no relation to the knowledge which a practical English statesman ought to acquire. f It maybe doubted whether a cabinet council often takes place now in our Foreign Office without Eussia being uppermost in every English Btatesman's thoughts. But, though Eussia remained thus long unheeded among her snows, there was a Northern power, the influence of which was acknowledged in the principal European quarrels, and whose good will was sedulously courted by many of the boldest chiefs and ablest counselors of the leading states. 1 his was Sweden ; Swe- • " Proj?resa of Russia In the Kast," p. 142. t " Bolhigbroke's Works, vol. 11., p. 3V4. In lire same paee he oteervea •ow bwedoa had olten lurEoU her arms southward with prodH^^ous effect. 238 DECISIVE BATTLES. * den, on whose ruins Russia has risen, but whose ascendency over her senai-barbarous neighbor was complete, until the fatal battle that now forms our su1)ject. As early as 1542 France had sought the alliance of Sweden to aid her iu her striiggle against Charles V. And the name of Gus- ta\n;s Adolphus is of itself siifficient to remind us that in the great contest for religious liberty, of which Germany was for thirty years the arena, it was Swe Jen that rescued the falling cause of Protest- antism, and it was Sweden that principally dictated the remodel- ing of the Eurojjean state-system at the peace of Westphalia. From the proud pre-eminence in which the valor of the "Lion of the North," and of Torstenston, Bannier,Wrangel, and the other generals of Gustavus, guided by the wisdom of Oxenstiern, had placed Sweden, the defeat of Charles XII. at Pultowa hurled her down at once and forever. Her efforts during the wars of the French Revolution to assume a leading part in European politics met with instant discomfiture, and almost provoked derision. But the Sweden whose scepter was bequeathed to Christiana, and whose alliance Cromwell valued so highly, was a different power to the Sweden of the present day. Finland, Ingria, Livonia, Esthoniii, Carelia, and other districts east of the Baltic, then were Swedish provinces ; and the possession of Pomerania, Rugen, and Bremen, made her an important member of the Germanic empire. These territories are now all reft from her, and the most valuable of them form the staple of her victorious rival's strength. Coiild she resume them— could the Sweden of 1648 be reconstructed, we should have a first-class Scandinavian state in the North, well qualified to maintain the balance of power, and check the progress of Russia ; whose power, indeed, never could have become formid- able to Europe save by Sweden becoming weak. The decisive triumph of Russia over Sweden at Pultowa was therefore all-important to the world, on account of what it over- threw as well as for what it established ; and it is the more deeply interesting, because it was not merely the crisis of a struggle be- tween two states, but it was a trial of strength between two great races of mankind. We must bear in mind, that while the Swedes, like the English, the Dutch, and others, belong to the Germanic, race, the Russians are a Sclavonic peoi^le. Nations of Sclavonian origin have long occupied the greater part of Europe eastward of the Vistula, and the populations also of Bohemia, Croatia, Servia, Dalmatia, and other important regions westward of that river are Sclavonic. In the long and varied conflicts between them and the Germanic nations that adjoin them, the Germanic race had, before Pultowa, almost always maintained a superiority. With the single but important exception of Poland, no Sclavonic state had made any considerable figure in history before the time when Peter the Great won his great victory over the Swedish king.* What * The Hussite ware may, perhaps, eiititJf that their numbers amounted to about one-third part of the whole popula - tlou of Europe, and occupied more than half its terrttory, began to ba sensible that tliey might claim for themselves a position to which they had Dot hitlierto aspired. " The opinion gained ground ; and the question now Is, whether tha Sclavonians can form a nntion independent of Hussla, or whether they ought to rest satisfied in being part of one great race, -with the most power- ful member of It as their chief. The latter, Inrteofl, is gaining ground among thein; and some Poles are disposed to attribute their sulTerings to the abitrary will ol the Czar, without extending the blame to tlie [{usslans themselves. Tliese begin to think that, it they cannot exist as Poles. Die best tiling to be done is to re.st satisfied with a position in the Sc-lavonic cmpln^ :uid tliey hope that, wlien once they give up llie idea of rcstoiing their comitry , Uussia may grant some concessions to their separate natloually. 240 DECISIVE BATTLES. It is a singular fact that llussia owes her very name to o b9-n>] cf Swedish invaders who conquered her a thoi;sand years ago. Thay ■were soon absorbed in the Sclavonic pojiulation, and every traca of the Swedish character had disappeared in llussia for many cen- turies before her invasion by Charles XII. She was long the victim and the slave of the Tartars ; and for many considerable periods of years the Poles held her in subjugation. Indeed, if we except the expeditions of some of the early Kussian chiefs against Byzantium, and the reign of Ivan Vasilovitcb, the history of llussia before the time of Peter the Great is one long tale of saffering and degradation. But, whatever may have been the amoimt of national injuries that she sustained from Swede, from Tartar, or from Pole in the ages of her weakness, she has certainly retaliated ten-fold during the century and a half of her strength. Her rapid transition at the commencement of that period from being the prey of every con- queror to being the conqueror of all with whom she comes into contact, to being the oppressor instead of the oppressed, is almost without a parallel in the history of nations. It was the work of a single ruler ; who, himself without education, promoted science and literature among barbaric millions ; who gave them fleets, commerce, arts, and arms ; who, at Puitowa, taught them to face and beat the i^reviously invincible Swedes ; and who made stub- born valor and implicit subordination from that time forth the distinguishing characteristics of the Russian soldiery, which had before his time been a mere disorderly and irresolute rabble. The career of Phillip of Macedon resembles most nearly that of the great Muscovite Czar ; but there is this important difference, that Philip had, while young, received in Southern Greece the best education in all matters of peace and war that the ablest philoso- phers and generals of the age could bestow. Peter was brought up among barbarians and in barbaric ignorance. He strove to remedy this, when a grown man, by leaving all the temptations to idleness and sensuality which his court offered, and by seeking instruction abroad. He labored with his own hands as a common artisan in Holland and England, that he might return and teach bis subjects how ships, commerce, and civilization could be ac- quired. There is a degree of heroism here superior to any thing 'that we know of in the Macedonian king. But Phillip's consoli- dation of the long-disunited Macedonian empire ; his raising a people, which he found the scorn (jf their civilized Southern neigh- bors, to bo their dread ; his organization of a brave and well- disciplined army instead of a disorderly militia ; his creation of a maritime force, and his systematic skill in acquiring and imi^rov- " The same idea has been put lorward by writers in tlie Russian interest; great efforts are making among other Sclavonic people to induce them to look upon Russia as their future head, and she has already gained con- siderable Influence over tlie Sclavonic populations of Turkey."— W'ilkik- ON 8 Dalmaiia. -. BA TTLE OF P UL TO WA. 2il ing sea-ports and arsenals ; his patient tenacity of purpose under reverses ; liis personal bravery, and even his proneness to coarse amusements and pleasures, all mark him out as the prototype of the imperial founder of the Russian power. In justice, however, to the ancient hero, it ought to be added, that we tind in the his- torj'' of Philip no examples of that savage cruelty which deforms so grievously the character of Peter the Great. Tti considering the effects of the overthrow which the Swedish arms sustained at Pultowa, and in speculating on the probable consequences that would have followed if the invaders had been successful, we must not only bear in mind the wretched state in ■which Peter found Russia at his accession, compared with her present grandeur, biit we must also keep in view the fact that, at the time when Pultowa was fought, his reforms were yet incom- plete, and his new institutions immature. He had broken xip the Old Russia ; and the New Russia, which he ultimately created, was still in embryo. Had he been crushed at Pultowa, his im- mense labors would have been buried with him, and (to use the ■words of Voltaire) "the most extensive empire in the world woiild have relapsed into the chaos from which it had been so lately taken." It is this fact that makes the repulse of Charles XII. the critical point in the fortunes of Russia. The danger which she incurred a century afterward from her invasion by Napoleon was in reality far less than her peril when Charles attacked her, though the French emperor, as a military genius, was infinitely superior to the Swedish king, and led a host against her, compared with ■which the armies of Charles seem almost insignificant. But, as Fouche well warned his imjijerial master^ when he vainly endeav- ored to dissuade him from his disastrous expedition against the empire of the Czars, the difference between the Russia of 1812 and the Russia of 1709 was greater than the disparity between the power of Charles and the might of Napoleon. "If that heroic king," said Fouche, "had not, like your imperial majesty, half E^^rope in arms to back him, neither had his opponent, the Czar Peter, 400,000 soldiers and 50,000 Cossacks." The historians who describe the state of the Muscovite empire when revolutionary and imperial France encountered it, narrate with truth and justice how, "at the epoch of the French Revolution, this immense em- pire, comprehending nearly half of Europe and Asia within its dominions, inhabited by a patient and indomitable race, ever ready to exchange the luxury and adventure of the South for the hardships and monotony of the North, was daily becoming more formidable to the liberties of Europe. * * The Russian infan- try had then long been celebrated for its immovable firmness. Her immense population, amounting tiien in Europe alons to nearly tliirty-five millions, afforded an inexhaustible supply of men. Her soldiers, inured to heat and cold from their infancy, and actuated by a blind devotion to their Czar, united the steady 242 DECISIVE BATTLES. valor of the Enp;lish to the impetnons enGrp;y of the French troops."* So, also, we read how the haughty aggressions of liona- parte " went to excite a national feeling from the banks of the Borysthenes to the wall of China, and to imite against him the wild and uncivilized inhabitants of an extended empire, possessed by a love to their religion, their government, and their country, and having a character of stern devotion, which he was incapable of estimating."! But the Paissia of ITOiJ had no such forces to op- pose to an assailant. Her whole jjopulation then was below six- teen millions ; and, what is far more important, this population had neither acquired military spirit nor strong nationality, nor was it united in loyal attachment to its ruler. Peter had wisely abolished the old regular troops of the empire, the Strelitzes ; but the forces which he had raised in their stead on a new and foreign ^ilan, and j)rinciiDally ofiicered with foreign- ers, had, before the Swedish invasion, given no i^roof that they could be relied on. In numerous encounters with the Swedes, Peters soldiery had run like sheep before inferior numbers. Great discontent, also, had been excited among all classes of the com- munity by the arbitrary changes which their great emperor in- troduced, many of which clashed with the most cherished national prejudices of his subjects. A career of victory and prosperity had not yet raised Peter above the reach of that disaffection, nor had superstitious obedience to the Czar yet become the characteristic of the Miiscovite mind. The victorioris occui^ation of Moscow by Charles XII. would have quelled the Russian nation as affectually, as had been the case when Baton Khan, and other ancient invad- ers, captured the capital of primitive Muscovy. How little such a triumish could effect toward subduing modern liussia, the fate of Napoleon demonstrated at once and forever. The character of Charles XII. has been a favorite theme with historians, moralists, philosoiDhers, and poets. But it is his mili- tary conduct during the campaign in Russia that alone requires comment here. Napoleon, in the Memoirs dictated by him at St. Helena, has given us a systematic criticism on that, among other celebrated campaigns, his own Russian campaign included. He labors hard to prove that he himself observed all the true principles of offensive war; and probably his censures on Charles's generalship were rather highly colored, for the sake of making his own military skill stand out in more favorable relief. Yet after making all allowances, we must admit the force of Napoleon's strictures on Charles's tactics, and own that his judgment, though severe, is correct, when he pronounces that the Swedish king, un- like his great jjredecessor Gustavus, knew nothing of the art of war, and was nothing more than a brave and intrepid soldier. Such, however, was not the light in which Charles was regarded * Alison. t Scott's "Life of Napoleon." £A TTLE OF P UL TO WA. 243 by his contemporaries at the commencement of his Russian expe- dition. His numerous victories, his daring and resolute spirit, combined with the ancient renown of tlie Svv'edish arms, then filled all Europe with admiration and anxiety. As Johnson ex- Ijresses it, his name was then one at which the world grew pale. Even Louis le Grand earnestly solicited his assistance; and our own Marlborough, then in the full career of his victories, vras specially sent by the English court to the camp of Charles, to propitiate the hero of the North in favor of the cause of the allies, and to prevent the Swedish sword from being flung into the scale in the French king's favor. But Charles at that time was solely bent on dethroning the sovereign of Eussia, as he had already dethroned the sovereign of Toland, and all Eiirope fiilly believed that he would entirely crush tiie Czar, and dictate conditions of peace in the Kremlin. * Charles himself looked on success as a matter of certainty, and the romantic extravagance of his views v.'as continually increasing. " One year, he thought, woiild suffice for the conquest of Kussia. The court of Kome was next to feel his vengeance, as the pope had dared to oppose the concession of religious liberty to the Silesian Protestants. No enterprise at that time aj^peared impossible to him. He had even dispatched several officers pi'ivately into Asia and Egypt, to take plans of the towns, and examine into the strength and resources of those countries. " f Napoleon thus epitomizes the earlier operations of Charles's invasion of Russia : " That prince set out from his camp at Aldstadt, near Leipsic, in September, 1707, at the head of 45,000 men, and traversed Poland; 20,000 men, under Count Lewenhaupt, disembarked at Riga; and 15,000 were in Finland. He was therefore in a condi- tion to have brought together 80,000 of the best troops in the world. He left 10,000 men at "Warsaw to guard King Stanislaus, and in January, 1708, arrived at Grodno, where he wintered. lu June, he crossed the forest of Minsk, and presented himselt before Borisov; forced the Russian army, which occupied the left bank of the Beresina; defeated 20,000 Riissians who were strongly in- trenched behind marshes; passed the Borysthencs at Mohilov, and vanquished a cor2)S of 10,000 Muscovites near Smolensk© on the 22d of September. He was now advanced to the confines of Lithuania, and was about to enter Russia Proper: the Czar, alarm- ed at his approach, made him proposals of peace. Up to this time all his movements were conformable to rule, and his communica- tions were well secured. Ho was master of Poland and Riga, and only ten days' march distant from Moscow; and it is probable * Voltaire attests, from personal Inspection of the letters of several put)- 11c ministers to tlielr respective coints, tliat sucli ^vas the general expecta- tion, t Crlghton's " Scandinavia.'* 2ii DECISI VE BA TTLES. that he would have reached that capital, had he not quitted the high road, thither, and, directed his steps toward the Ukraine, in order to form a jvmction with Mazeppa, who brought him only 6,U00 men. By this movement, his line of operations, beginning at Sweden, exposed his flank to Kussia for a distance of four hun- dred leagues, and he was unable to protect it, or to receive either re-enforcements or assistance." Napoleon severely censures this neglect of one of the great rules of war. He points out that Charles had not organized his war, like Hannibal, on the principle of relinquishing all commimica- tions with home, keeping all his forces concentrated, and creating a base of operations in the conquering country. Such had been the bold system Of the Carthaginian general ; but Charles acted on no such principle, inasmuch as he caiised Lewenhaupt, one of his generals who commanded a considerable detachment, and escorted a most important convoy, to follow him at a distance of twelve days' march. By this dislocation of his forces he exposed Lewen- haupt to be overwhelmed separately by the full force of the enemy, and deprived the troops under his own command of the aid which that general's men and stores might have atforded at the very crisis of the campaign. The Czar had collected- an army of about 100,000 eifective men ; and though the Swedes, in the beginning of the invasion, were successful in every encounter, the Kussian troops were gradually acquiring discipline ; and Peter and his officers were learning gen- eralship from their victors, as the Thebans of old learned it from the Spartans. When Lewenhaupt, in the October of 1708, was striving to join Charles in the Ukraine, the Czar suddenly attacked him near the Borysthenes with an overwhelming force of 50,000 Russians. Lewenhaupt fought bravely for three days, and suc- ceeded in cutting his way through the enemy with about 4,000 of his men to where Charles awaited him near the River Desna ; but upward of 8,000 Swedes fell in these battles ; Lewenhaupt's cannon and ammunition were abandoned ; and the whole of his important convoy of provisions, on which Charles and his half-starved troops were relying, fell into the enemy's hands. Charles was compelled to remain in the Ukraine during the winter ; but in the spring of 1709 he moved forward toward Moscow, and invested the fortilied town of Pultowa, on the River Vorksla ; a place where the Czar had stored up large supplies of provisions and military stores, and which commanded the passes leading toward Moscow. The pos- session of this place would have given Charles the means of sup- plying all the wants of his suiiering army, and would also have furnished him with a secure base of oi^erations for his advance against the Muscovite capital. The siege was therefore hotly pressed by the Swedes ; the garrison resisted obstinately : and the Czar, feeling the importance of saving the town, advanced in June to its relief, at the head of an army from fifty to sixty thousand strong. BA TTLE OF PUL TO WA. 245 Both sovereigns now prepared for the general action, which each saw to be inevitable, and which each felt would be decisive of his own and of his country's destiny. The Czar, by some masterly pianeuvers, crossed the Vorksla, and j)osted his army on the same fide of that river with the besiegers, but a little higher wp. The \'orksla falls into the Borysthenes about fifteen leagues below Pul- towa, and the Czar arranged his forces in two lines, stretching from one river toward the other, so that if the Swedes attacked him And were repulsed, they would be driven backward into the acute angle foiTned by the two streams at their junction. He fortified these lines with several redoubts, lined with heavj^ artillery ; and his troops both horse and foot, were in the best possible condition, and amply provided with stores and ammunition. Charles's forces were about 24, QUO strong. But not more than half of these were Swedes : so much had battle, famine, fatigue, and the deadly frosts of Russia thinned the gallant bands which the Swedish king and LewenLaupt had led to the Ukraine. The other 12,000 men, under Charles, were Cossacks and Wallachians, who had joined him in the country. On hearing that the Czar was about to attack him, he deemed that his dignity required that he himself should be the assailant ; and, leading his army out of their intrenched lines before the town, he advanced with them against the Russian redoubts. He had been severely wounded in the foot in a skirmish a few days before, and was borne in a litter along the ranks into the thick of the fight. Notwithstanding the fearful disparity of num- bers and disadvantage of position, the Swedes never showed their ancient valor more noljly than on that dreadful daj\ Nor do their Cossack and Wallachian allies seem to have been unworthy of fighting side by side with Charles's veterans. Two of the Russian redoubts were actually entered, and the Swedish infantry began to raise the cry of victory. Biit, on the other side, neither general nor soldiers flinched in their duty. The Russian cannonade and musketry were kept up ; fresh masses of defenders were jDoured into the fortifications, and at length the exhausted remnants of the Swedish columns recoiled from the blood-stained redoubts. Then the Czar led the infantry and cavalry of his first line outside the works, drew them up steadily and skilfully, and the action ■was renewed along the whole fronts of the two armies on the open ground. Each sovereign exposed his life freely in the world- vinning battle, and on each side the troops fought obstinately and eagerly under their ruler's eye. It was not till two hours from the commencement of the action that, overpowered by numbers, the hitherto invincible Swedes gave way. AH was then hopckss dis- order and irrepai'able rout. Driven downward to where the rivers join, the fugitive Swedes f^urrendered to their victorious pursuers, or perished in the waters of the Borj'sthenes. Only a few hundi'eds bwam that r'"er with their king and the Cossack Mazeppu, and 216 DECISn^E BATTLES. escapea into the Turkish territory. Nearly 10,000 lay killed and wounded in the redoubts and on the field of battle. In the joy of his heart the Czar exclaimed, when the strife was over, "That the son of the morning had fallen from heaven, and that the foundation of St. Petersburg at length stood firm." Even on that battle-field, near the Ukraine, the Kussian emi:)eror"s fir.st thoughts were of conquests and aggrandizement on the Baltic. The peace of Nystadt, which transferred the fairest provinces of Sweden to Kussia, ratified the judgment of battle which was pro- nounced at Pultowa. Attacks on Turkey and Persia by Eussia commenced almost directly after that victory. And though the ' Czar failed in his first attempts against the sultan, the successors of Peter have, one and all, carried on a uniformly aggressive and successive system of policy against Turkey, and against every other state, Asiatic as well as European, which has had the misfortune oi having Russia for a neighbor. Orators and authors, who have discussed the progress of Russia, have often alluded to the similitude between the modern extension of the Muscovite empire and the extension of the Roman dominions in ancient times. But attention has scarcely been drawn to the closeness of the parallel between conquering Eussia and conquer- ing Rome, not only in the extent of conquests, but in the means of effecting conquest. The history of Rome during the century and a half which followed the close of the second Punic war, and during which her largest acquisitions of territory were made, should be minutely compared with the history of Eussia for the last one hundred and fifty years. The main points of similitude can only be indicated in these pages ; but they deserve the fullest consider- ation. Above all, the sixth chapter of Montesquieu's great treatise on Rome, "De la conduite que les Romains tinrent pour soumettre les peuples," should be carefully studied by every one who watches the career and policy of Russia. The classic scholar will_ remem- ber the state-craft of the Roman senate, which took care in every foreign war to appear in the character of a Protector. Thus Rome 'protected the iEtolians and the Greek cities against Macedon ; she protected Bithynia and other small Asiatic states against the Syrian kings ; she protected Numidia against Carthage , and in numerous other instances assumed the same specious character. •But "woe to the people whose liberty depends on the continued forbearance of an over-mighty protector."* Every state which Rome protected was ultimately subjugated and absorbed by her. And Russia has been the protector of Poland— the protector of the Crimea— the protector of Courland— the protector of Georgia, Immeritia, Mingrelia, the Tcherkessian and Caucasian tribes, etc. She has first protected, and then appropriated them all. She pro- tects Moldavia and Wallachia. A few years ago she became the * Malkin'3 " lllstory of Greece." SFNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 247 protector of Turkey from Mehemet Ali ; and since the summer of 1849, she has made herself the protector of Austria. When the partisans of liussia speak of the disinterestedness with which she withdrew her protecting troops from Constantinople and from Hungary, let us here also mark the ominous exactness of the parallel between her and Rome. While the ancient world yet con- ■ tained a number of independent states, which might have made a formidable league against Eome if she had alarmed them by openly avowing her ambitious schemes, Rome's favorite policy was seem- ing disinterestedness and moderation. After her first war against Philip, after that against Antiochus, and many others, victorious Rome promptly withdrew her troops from the territories which they occupied. She affected to employ her arms onlj^ for the good of others. Biit, when the favorable moment came, she alwaj's found a pretext for marching her legions back into each coveted district, and making it a Roman province. Fear, not moderation, is the only effective check on the ambition of such powers as ancient Rome and modern Russia. The amount of that fear de- pends on the amount of timely vigilance and energy which other states choose to employ against the common enemy of their freedom and national independence. Synopsis of Events between the Battle oe Pultowa, a.T). 1709, AND THE Defeat of Bukgoyne at Sakatoga, a.d. 1777. A.D. 1713. Treaty of Utrecht. Philip is left by it in possession of the throne of Spain. But Naples, Milan, the Spanish territories on the Tuscan coast, the Spanish Netherlands, and some parts of the French Netherlands, are given to Austria. France cedes to England Hudson's Bay and Straits, the island of St. Christopher, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland in America. Spain cedes to Eng- land Gibraltar and Minorca, which the English had taken during the war. The King of Prussia and the Duke of Savoy both obtain considerable additions of territory to their dominions. 1715. Death of Queen Anne. The house of Hanover begins to reign in England. A rebellion in favor of the Stuarts is piit down. . Death of Louis XIV. 1718. Charles XII. killed at the siege of Frederickshall. 1725. Death of Peter the Great of Russia. 171;0. Frederic II. king of Prussia. He attacks the Austrian dominion'^, and conquers Silesia. 1742. War between France and England. 1743. Victory of the English at Dettingen. 1745. Victory of the French atFonttnoy. Rebellion in Scotland in favor of the house of Stuart ; finally quelled by the battle of CuUoden in the next year. 2t8 DECISIVE BATTLES. \ 1748. Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle. 1756-1763. The Seven Year's War, during whicli Prussia makes an heroic resistance against the armies of Austria, Kussia, and France. England, under the administration of the elder Pitt (afterward Lord Chatham), takes a glorious part in the war in opposition to France and Spain. Wolfe wins the battle of Quebec, [and the English conquer Canada, Cape Breton, and St. John. Cliva begins his career of conquest in India. Ci;ba is taken by the English from Spain. 17G3. Treaty of Paris ; which leaves the power of Prussia in-- creased, and its military reputation greatly exalted. "Prance, by the treaty of Paris, ceded to England Canada and the island of Cape Breton, with the islands and coasts of the gulf and river of St. Lawrence. The boundaries between the two nations in North America were fixed by a line drawn along the middle of the Mississippi from its source to its mouth. All on the left or eastern bank of that river was given uji to England, except the citj' of New Orleans, which was reserved to France ; as was also the liberty of the fisheries on a part of the coasts of Newfound- land and the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The islands of St. Peter and Miquelon were given them as a shelter for their fishermen, but' without permission (o raise fortifications. The islands of Mar- tinico, Guadaloupe, Mariegalante, Desirada, and St. Lucia, were surrendered to France; while Grenada, the Grenadines, St. Vin- cent, Dominica, and Tobago, were ceded to England. This latter power retained her conquests on the Senegal, and restored to France the island of Gorea, on the coast of Africa. France was put in possession of the forts and factories which belonged to her in the East Indies, on the coasts of Coromandel, Orissa, Malabar, and Bengal, under the restriction of keeping up no military force in Bengal. "In Europe, France restored all the conqiiests she had made in Germany, as also the island of Minorca. England gave up to her Belleisle. on the coast of Brittany ; while Dunkirk was kept in the same condition as had been determined by the peace of Aix-la- Chapelle. The island of Cuba, with the Havana, were restored to the King of Spain, who, on his part, ceded to England Florida, with Port Augustine and the Bay of Pensacola. The King of Portugal M'as restored to the same state in which he had been before the war. The colony of St. Sacrament in America, which the Spaniards had conquered, was given back to him. "The peace of Paris, of which we have just now spoken, was the era of England's greatest prosperity. Her commerce and naviga- tion extended over all parts of the globe, and were supported by a naval force, so much the more imposing, as it was no longer coun- terbalanced by the maritime power of France, which had been almost annihilated in the preceding war. The immense territories ■which that peace had secured hrr, both in Africa and America VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 249 opened up new channels for her industry ; and what deserves *5,pecially to be remarked is, that she acquired at the same time Tast and important possessions in the East Indies.* CHAPTER xmr. TICTOET OF THE AMEEICANS OVER BUEGOTKE AT SAEATOGA, A.D. 1777. Westward the course of empire takes its way ; 'J'he first four acts already past, A flftli shall close the drama mth the day. Time's noblest offspking is its last. Btsuop Berkeley. Of the four great powers that now principally rule the political destinies of the world, France and England are the only two whose influence can be dated back beyond the last century and a half. The third great power, Russia, was a, feeble mass of barbarism be- fore the epoch of Peter the Great ; and the very existence of the fouxth great power, as an independent nation, commenced within the memory of living men. By thefourth great power of theworld I mean the mighty commonwealth of the "Western Continent, which now commands the admiration of mankind. That homage is sometimes reluctantly given, and is sometimes accompanied with suspicion and ill will. But none can refuse it. All the physical essentials for national strength are undeniably to be found in the geographical position and amplitude of territory which the United States possess ; and their almost inexhaustible tracts of fertile but hitherto untouched soil, in their stately forests, in their moun- tain chains and their rivers, their beds of coal, and stores of metallic wealth, in their extensive sea-board along the waters of two oceans, and in their already numerous and rapidly -increasing population. And when we examine the character of this popula- tion, no one can look on the fearless energy, the sturdy determina- tion, the aptitude for local self-government, the versatile alacrity, and the unresting spiritofenterj^rise which characterize the Anglo- Americans, without feeling that here he beholds the true elements of progressive might. Three quarters of a century have not yet passed since the United States ceased to be mere dependencies of England. And even if we date their origin from the period when the first permanent European settlements out of which they grew were made on the western coast of the North Atlantic, the increase of their strength is uni^aralleled either in rapidity or extent. * Koch's " Revolutions of Europe." 250 DECISIVE BATTLES. The ancient Roman boasted, with reason, of the growth of Eome from humble beginnings to the greatest magnitude which the worhl had then ever witnessed. But the citizen of the United States is still more justly entitled to claim this praise. In two centuries and a half his country has acquired ampler dominion than the Koman gained in ten. And even if we credit the legend of the band of shepherds and outlaws with which Romulus is said to have colonized the Seven Hills, we find not there so small a germ of future greatness as we find in the group of a hundred and five ill- chosen and disunited emigrants who founded Jamestown in 1G07, or in the scanty band of Pilgrim Fathers who, a few years later, moored their bark on the wild and rock-bound coast of the wilder- ness that was to become New England. The power of the United States is emphatically the "imperium quo neque ab exordio ullum fere minus, neque incrementis toto orbe amplius humana potest memoria recordari."* Nothing is more calculated to imjjress the mind with a sense of the rapidity with which the resources of the American republic advance, than the difficulty which the historical enquirer finds in ascertaining their precise amount. If he consults the most recent works, and those written by the ablest investigators of the subject, he finds in them admiring comments on the change which the last few years, before those books were written, had made ; but when he turns to apply the estimates in those books to the present mo- ment, he finds them wholly inadeqi;ate. Before a book on the subject of the United States has lost its novelty, those states have outgrown the descri^jtions which it contains. The celebrated work of the French statesman, De Tocqueville, appeared about fifteen years ago. In the passage which I am aboiit to quote, it will be seen that he predicts the constant increase of the Anglo-American power, but he looks on the Rocky Alountains as their extreme western limit for many years to come. He had evidently no ex- pectation of himself seeing that power dominant along the Pacific as well as along the Atlantic coast. He says:t "The distance from Lake Superior to the Gulf of Mexico ex- tends from the 47th to the 30th degree of latitude, a distance of more than 1200 miles, as the bird flies. The frontier of the United States winds along the whole of this immense line, some- times falling within its limits, but more frequently extending far beyond it into the waste. It has been calculated that the whites advance every year a mean distance of seventeen miles along this vast boundary. Obstacles, such as an unproductive district, a * Eutroplus, lib. 1.. exordium. t The oilglnal Frencli of these passages will be found In the chapter on "Queues scut les chances de duree de r Union Americalne— Quels dangers la menacent,'' In the third volume of the first pait of De Jocqueville, and in the conclusion of tlie first part. They are (wiili others) collected and trans- lated by Mr. Alliiou, in liis " Essays,'' vol. ill., p. 374. VI CTO nr OF the amebic ANS a T SARA to GA. 251 lake, or an Indian nation unexpectedly encountered, are some- times met -with. The advancing column then halts for a while ; its two extremities fall back upon themselves, and as soon as they ave reunited, they proceed onward. This gradual and continuous progress of the European race toward the Kocky Mountains has the solemnity of a providential event; it is like a deluge of men rising unaba'tedly, and daily driven onward by the hand of Uod. "Within this first line of conquering settlers towns are built and vast states for.nded. In 1790 there were only a few thousand pio- neers sprinkled along the valleys of the Mississippi; and at the present day, these valleys contain as many inhabitants as were to be found in the whole Union in 1790. Their population amounts to nearly four millions. The City of "Washington was founded in 1800, in the very center of the Union; but such are the changes which have taken place, that it now stands at one of the ex- tremities; and the delegates of the most remote Western States are already obliged to perform a journey as long as that from Vienna to Paris. "It must not, then, be imagined that the impulse of the British race in the Nev World can be arrested . The dismemberment of the Union, and the hostilities which might ensue, the abolition of republican institutions, and the tyrannical government which might succeed it, may retard this impulse, but they cannot pre- vent it from ultimately fulfilling the destinies to which that race is reserved. No power upon earth can close upon the emigrants that fertile wilderness, which ofters resources to all industry, and a refuge from all want. Future events, of whatever nature they may be, will not deprive the Americans of their climate or of their inland seas, of their great rivers or of their exuberant soil. Nor will bad laws, revolutions and anarchy be able to obliterate that love of prosperity and that spirit of enterprise which seem to be the dis- tinctive characteristics of their race, or to extinguish that knowl- edge which guides them on their way. "Thus, in the midst of the uncertain future, one event at least is sure. At a period which may be said to be near (for we are speaking of the life of a nation), the Anglo-Americans will alone cover the immense space contained between the Polar Regions and the Tropics, extending from the coast i>f the Atlantic to the shores of the Pacific Ocean; the territory which will probably be occu- pied by the Anglo-Americans at some future time may be com- puted to equal three quarters of Europe in extent. The climate of the Union is upon the whole preferable to that of Euroiie, and its natural advantages are not less great; it is therefore evident that its population will at some future time be proportionate to our own. Europe, divided as it is between so many different nations, and torn as it has been by incessant wars and the barbarous manners of the Middle Ages, has. notwithstanding, attained a population of ±10 inhabitants to the square league. What causo 252 DECISIVE BATTLES. can ^'^revent the United States from having as numerous a popula- tion in time V "The time -will therefore come when one hundred and fifty millions of men will be living in North America, equal in condi- tion, the progeny of one race, owing their origin to the same cause, and preserving the same civilization, the same language, the same religion, the same habits, the same manners, and imbued with the same opinions, propagated under the same forms. The rest is wn- certain, but this is certain ; and it is a fact new to the world, a fact fraught with such portentous consequences as to baffle the efforts even of the imagination." Let us turn from the French statesman writing in 1835, to an English statesman who is justly regarded as the highest authority in all statistical subjects, and who described the United States only five years ago. Macgregor* tells us — "The states which, on the ratification of independence, formed the American Republican Union, were thirteen, viz. : "Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Vir- ginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. "The ibregoing thirteen states (the whole inhahited territory of ichich, icith the exception of a few small settlements, was confined to the region extending between the Alleghany Mountains and the Atlantic) were those which existed at the period when they became an acknowledged separate and independent federal sovereign power. The thirteen strijjes of the standard or flag of the United States continue to represent the oi'iginal number. The stars have multi- plied to tweuty-six,t according as the number of states have increased. "The territory of the thirteen original states of the Union, including Maine and Vermont, comprehended a siiperficies of 371,124 English square miles, that of the whole United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, 120,354; that of France, including Corsica, 214,910; that of the Austrian empire, including Hungary and all the Imperial states, 257,540 English square miles. "The present superficies of the twenty-six constitutional states of the Anglo-American Union, and the District of Columbia, and territories of Florida, include 1,029,025 square miles; to which if we add the Northwest, or Wisconsin Territory, east of the Missis- sippi, and bound by Lake Superior on the north, and Michigan on the east, and occupying at least 100,000 square miles, and then add the great western region, not yet well defined territories, but at the most limited calculation comprehending 700,000 square miles, the whole unbroken in its vast length and breadth by for- eign nations, comprehends a portion of the earth's surface equal to 1,729,025 English, or 1,296,770 geographical square miles." * Macgregor's '• Commercial staiistics " vol. lil., p. 13. t Fresli stars have dawned sine j ilils wai wiltteu. VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 253 We may add tliat the popxilation of the states wlien they declar- ed their independence was about two millions and a half ; it is now twenty-three millions. I have quoted Macgregor, not only on account of the clear and full view which ho gives of the progress of America to the date when he wrote, but because his description may be contrasted with what the United States have become even since his book ap- peared. Only three years after the time when Macgregor thus wrote, the American president truly stated : "Within less than four years the annexation of Texas to the Union has been consummated; all contiicting title to the Oregon Territory, south of the 49th degree of north latitude, adjusted; and New Mexico and Upper California have been acqiiired by treaty. The area of these several territories contains 1,193,061 square miles, or 703,559, 010 acres; while the area of the remaining twenty-nine states, and the territory not yet organized into s ates east of the Eocky Mountains, contains 2,059,513 square miles, or 1,318,126,058 acres. These estimates show that the territories recently acquired, and over which our exclusive jurisdiction and dominion have been extended, constitute a coiintry more than half as large as all that which was held by the United States before their acquisition. If Oregon be excluded from the esti- mate, there will still remain within the limits of Texas, New Mexico, and California, 851,598 square miles, or 545,012,720 aci-es, being an addition equal to more than one third of all the territory owned by the United States before their acquisition, and, includ- ing Oregon, nearly as great an extent of territory as the whole of Europe, Russia only excepted. The Mississiiipi, so lately flie frontier of our country, is noio only its center. With the addition of the late acquisitions, the United States are now estimated to be nearly as large as the whole of Europe. The extent of the sea-coast of Texas on the Gulf of Mexico is upward of 400 miles; of the coast of Upper California, on the Pacific, of 970 miles; and of Oregon, in- cluding the Sti'aits of Fvica, of 650 miles; innkincj the whole extent of sea-coast on the Parifin 1620 miles, and the whole extent on both the Pacific and the Gulf of Mexico, 2,020 miles. The length of the coast on the Atlantic, from the northern limits of the United States, round the Capes of Florida to the Sabine on the eastern boundary of Texas, is estimated to be 3,100 miles, so that the ad- dition of sea-coast, including Oregon, is very nearly two-thirds as great as all we possessed before; and, excluding Oregon, is an addition of 1S70 miles, being nearly equal to one half of the extent of coast which we possessed before these acquisitions. We have now three great maritime fronts— on the Atlantic, the Gulf of Mex- ico, and the Pacitic, making, in the whole, an extent of sea-coast exceeding 5,000 miles. This is the extent of the sea-coastof the United States, not including bays, sounds, and small irregularities of the main shore and of the sea islands. If these be included, 254 DECISIVE BATTLES. the lenc;th of the shore-line of coast, as estimated by the superin- tendent of the Coast Survey in his report, would be 33,U6;3 miles." The importance of the power of the United States being then firmly planted along the Pacific applies not only to the New "World, but to the Old. Opposite to San Francisco, on the coast of that ocean, lie the wealthy but decrepit emi^ires of China and Japan. Numerous groups of islets stud the larger part of the in- tervening sea, and form convenient stepping-stones for the prog- ress of commerce or ambition. The intercourse of traffic between these ancient Asiatic monarchies and the young Anglo-American republic must be rapid and extensive. Any attemjDt of the Chi- nese or Japanese n;li^rs to cheek it will only accelerate an armed collision. The American will either buy or force his way. Be- tween such populations as- that of China and Japan on the one side, and that of the United States on the other — the former haughty, formal, and insolent ; the latter bold, intrusive, and un- scrupulous—causes of quarrel must sooner or later arise. The re- sults of such a quarrel cannot be doubted. America will scarcely imitate the forbearance shown by England at the end of our late war with the Celestial Empire ; and the conquests of China and Japan, by the fleets and armies of the United States, are events which many now living are likely to witness. Compared with the magnitude of such changes in the dominion of the Old World, the certain ascendency of the Anglo-Americans over Central and Southern America seems a matter of secondary importance. Well may we repeat De Tocqueville's words, that the growing power of this commonwealth is "un fait entierement nouveau dans le monde, et dont I'imagination elle-memene sauraitsaisirlaportee." An Englishman may look, and ought to look, on the growing grandeur of the Americans with no small degree of generous sj'm- pathy and satisfaction. They, like oiarselves, are members of the great Anglo-Saxon nation, "whose race and language are now overrunning the world from one end of it to the other."* And whatever differences of form of government may exist between us and them — whatever reminiscences of the days when, though brethren, we strove together, may rankle in the minds of us, the defeated party, we should cherish the bonds of common national- ity that still exist between us. We should remember, as the Athe- nians remembered of the S^Jartans at a season of jealousy and temptation, that our race is one, being of the same blood, sjieak- ing the same language, having an essential resemblance in our in- stitutions and usages, and worshipping in the temples of the same God.f All this may and should be borne in mind. And yet an Englishman can hardly watch the progress of America without * Arnold. t E6v ofiai/icov rs xai ui.i6yXood6ov, xal Qeov idpv/itara ts HoLvd uai ^v6lai, oQea te ujj.orpo7ta. — Hebodoids, vixi,, 144. VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 255 the regretful thought that America once Tvas English, and that, but for the folly of our rulers, she might be English still. It is true that the commerce between the two countries has largely and beneficially increased, but this is no proof that the increase would not have been still greater had the states remained integral por- tions of the same great empire. By giving a fair and just partici- pation in political rights, these, "the fairest possessions" of the British crown, might have been preserved to it. "This ancient and most noble monarchy "* would not have been dismembered ; nor should we see that which ought to be the right arm of our strength, now menacing us in every political crisis as the most formidable rival of our commercial and maritime ascendency. The war which rent away the North American colonits from England is, of all subjects in history, the most painful for an Eng- lishman to dwell on. It was commenced and carried on by the British ministry in iniquity and folly, and it was concluded in disaster and shame. But the contemplation of it cannot be evaded by the historian, however much it may be abhorred. Nor can any military event be said to have exercised more important in- fluence on the future fortunes of mankind than the complete de- feat of Burgoyne's expedition in 1777 ; a defeat which rescued the revolted colonists from certain subjection, and which, by induc- ing the courts of France and Spain to attack England in their be- half, insured the independence of the United States, and the for- mation of that transatlantic power which not only America, but both Europe and Asia now see and feel. Still, in proceeding to describe this " decisive battle of the world," a very brief recapitulation of the earlier events of the war may be sufficient ; nor shall I linger unnecessarily on a pain- ful theme. The five northern colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Vermont, usually classed to- gether as the New England colonies, were the strongholds of the insurrection against the mother country. The feeling of resistance was less vehement and general in the central settlement of New York, and still less so in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and the other colonies of the South, although every where it was formidably strong. But it was among the descendants of the stern Puritans that the spirit of Cromwell and Vane breathed in all its fervor ; it ■was from the New Englanders that the first armed opposition to the British crown had been offered ; and it was by them that the most stubborn determination to fight to the last, rather than waive a single right or privilege, had been displayed. In 1775 they had succeeded in forcing the British troops to evacuate Boston ; and the events of 1777 had made New York (which the Ptoyalists captured in that year) the principal basis of operations for the armies of the mother country^ * Lord Chatliam. 256 DECISIVE BATTLES. A glance at tlie map will sliow tliat the Hudson Eiver, wliich falls into the Atlantic at New York, runs down from the north at the back of the New England States, forming an angle of about forty-five degrees with the line of the coast of the Atlantic, along which the New England States are situate. Northward of the Hudson we see a small chain of lakes coinmunicaLing with the Canadian frontier. It is necessary to attend closely to these geo- graphical points, in order to understand the i^lan of the opera- tions which the English attempted in 1777, and which the battle of Saratoga defeated. The English had a considerable force in Canada, and in 1776 had completely repulsed an attack which the Americans had made upon that province. The British ministry resolved to avail themselves, in the next year, of the atlvantage which the occupa- tion of Canada gave them, not merely for the purpose of defense, but for the purpose of striking a vigorous and crushing blow against the revolted colonies. With this view the army in Canada was largely re-enforced. Seven thousand veteran troops were sent out from England, with a corps of artillery abundantly supplied and led by select and experienced officers. Large quantities of military stores were also furnished for the equipment of the Cana- dian volunteers, who were expected to join the expedition. It was intended that the force thus collected should march south- ward by the line of the lakes, and thence along the banks of the Hudson Eivei-. The British army from New York (or a large de- tachment of it) was to make a simultaneous movement northward, up the line of the Hudson, and the two expeditions were to unite at Albany, a town on that nver. By these operations.all communi- cation between the northern colonies and those of the center and south would be cut off. An irresistible force would be con- centrated, so as to crush all further oi^position in New England : and when this was done, it was believed that the other colonies would speedily submit. The Americans had no troops in the field that seemed able to bafJie these movements. Their principal army, under Washington, was occupied in watching over Penn- sylvania and the South. At any rate, itwas believed that, in order to opiJose the plan intended for the new campaign, the insurgents must risk a pitched battle, in which the superiority of the Boyal- ists, in numbers, in discipline, and in equipment, seemed to promise to the latter a crowning victory. Without question, the plan was ably formed ; and had the success of the execution been equal to the ingenuity of the design, the reconquest or submission of tlie thirteen United States must in all human probability have folio-wed, and the independence which they proclaimed in 1776 would have been extinguished before it existed a second year. No European power had as yet come forward to aid America. It is true that England was generally regarded with jealousy and ill will, and was thought to have acquired, at the treaty of Paris !\ VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 257 preponderance of dominion ■vrhich was perilous to tlie balance of power ; but, though many were Mailing to wound, none had yet ventured to strike ; and America, if defeated in 1777, would have been suffered to fall unaided. Burgoyne had gained celebrity by some bold and dashing ex- ploits in Portugal during the last war; he was personally as brave an officer as ever headed British troops; he had considerable skill as a tactitian; and his general intellectual abilities and acquire- ments were of a high order. He had several very able and ex- perienced officers under him, among whom were Major General Philips and Bi-igadier General Frazer. His regular troops amount- ed, exclusively of the corps of artillery, to about 7,200 men, rank and file. Nearly half of these were Germans. He had also an auxiliary force of from two to three thousand Canadians. He summmoned the warriors of several tribes of the red Indians near the Western lakes to join his army. Much eloquence was poured forth both in America and in England in denouncing the lase of these savage auxiliaries. Yet Burgoyne seems to have done no more than Montcalm, Wolfe, and other French, American, and English generals had done before him. But, in truth, the lawless ferocity of the Indians, their unskilfulness in regular action, and the utter impossibility of bringing them under any discipline, made their services of little or no value in times of difficiilty ; while the indignation which their outrages inspired went far to rouse the whole population of the invaded districts into active hostilities against Burgoyne's force. Burgoyne assembled his troops and confederates near the River Bonquet, on the west side of Lake Champlain. He then, on the 21st of June, 1777, gave his red allies a war feast, and harangued them on tho necessity of abstaining from their usual cruel prac- tices against unarmed people and jirisoners. At the same time, he published a pompous manifesto to the Americans, in which he threatened the refractory with all the horrors of war, Indian as well as European. The army proceeded by water to Crown Point, a fortification which the Americans held at the northern extremity of the inlet, by which the water from Lake George is conveyed to Lake Champlain. He landed here without opposition; but the reduction of Ticonderoga, a fortification about twelve miles from Crown Point, was a more serious matter, and was supposed to be the most critical part of the expedition. Ticonderoga commanded the passage along the lakes, and was considered to be the key to the route which Burgoyne wished to follow. The English had been repulsed in an attack on it in the war with the French in 1758 with severe loss. But Burgoyne now invested it with great skill ; and the American general, St. Clair, who had only an ill equipped army of 3,000 men, evacuated it on the 5th of July. It seems evi- dent that a different course would have caused the destruction or capture of his whole army, which, weak as it was, was the chief D.B.— 9 258 DECISIVE BATTLES. force then in the field for the protection of the New England States. When censured by some of his countrymen for abandoning Ticon- deroga St. Clair truly replied "that he had lost a post, but saved a province. " Burgoyne's troops piirsued the retiring Americans, gained several advantages over them, and took a large part of their artillery and military stores. The loss of the British in these engagements was trifling. The army moved southward along Lake George to Skenesborough, and thenco, slowly and with great difficulty, across a broken country, full of creeks and marshes, and clogged by the enemy with felled trees and other obstacles, to Fort Edward, on the Hudson River, the American troops continuing to retire before them. Burgoyne reached the left bank of the Hudson River on the 30th of July. Hitherto he had overcome every difficulty which the enemy ftnd the nature of the country had placed in his way. His army was in excellent order and in the highest spirits, and the peril of the expedition seemed over when once on the bank of the river which was to be the channel of communication between them and the British army in the South. But their feelings, and those of the English nation in general when their successes were announced, may best be learned from a contemporary writer. Burkp in the "Annual Register" for 1777, describes them thus: " Such was the rapid torrent of success, which swept every tning away before the Northern army in its onset. It is not to be won- dered at if both officers and private men were highly elated with their good fortune, and deemed that and their prowess to be irre- sistible; if they regarded their enemy with the greatest contempt ; considered their own toils to be nearly at an end; Albany to be al- ready in their hands; and the reduction of the northern provinces to be rather a matter of some time than an arduous task full of diffi- culty and danger. "At home, the joy and exultation was extreme; not only at court, but with all those who hoped or wished the unqualified siabjugation and unconditional submission of the colonies. The loss of repu- tation was greater to the Americans, and capable of more fatal consequences, than even that of ground, of posts, of artillery, or of men. All the contemptuous and most degrading charges which had been made by their enemies, of their wanting the resolu- tion and abilities of men, even in their defense of whatever was dear to them, were now repeated and believed. Those who still regarded them as men, and who had not yet lost all affection to them as brethren ; who also retained hopes that a happy reconcilia- tion \;pon constitutional principles, without sacrificing the dignity of just authority of government on the one side, or dereliction of rights of freemen on the other, was not even now impossible, not- withstanding their favorable dispositions in general, could not help feeling upon this occasion that the Americans sunk not a little in their estimation. It was not difficult to diffuse an opinion that the VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 259 war in effect was over, and that any farther resistance could serve only to render the terms of their submission the worse. Such were Bome of the immediate effects of the loss of the grand keys of North America — Ticonderoga, and the lakes. The astonishment and alarm which these events produced among the Americans were naturally great ; but in the midst of their dis- asters, none of the colonists showed any disposition to submit. The local governments of the New England States, as well as tha Congress, acted with vif^or and firmness in their efforts to repel tha enemy. General Gates was sent to take the command of the army at Saratoga ; and Arnold, a favorite leader of the Americans, was dispatched by Washington to act under him, with re-enforcements of troops and guns from the main American army. Burgoyne's employment of the Indians now produced the worst possible effects. Though he labored hard to check the atrocities which they were accustomed to commit, he could not prevent the occurrence of many barbarous outrages, repugnant both to the feelings of hu- manity and to the laws of civilized warfare. The American com- manders took care that the reports of these excesses should be circulated far and wide, well-knowing that they would make the stern New Englanders not droop, but rage. Such was their effect ; and though, when each man looked upon his wife, his children, his sisters, or his aged parents, the thought of the merciless Indian "thirsting for the blood of man, woman, and child," of "the can- nibal savage torturing, murdering, roasting, and eating the man- gled victims of his barbarous battles,"* might raise terror in the bravest breasts ; this very terror produced a directly contrary effect to causing submission to the royal army. It was seen that the few friends of the royal cause as well as its enemies, were liable to be the victims of the indiscriminate rage of the savages ;t and thus "the inhabitants of the open and frontier countries had no choice of acting : they had no means of security left but by abandoning their habitations and taking up arms. Every man saw the necessity of becoming a tempory soldier, not only for his own security, but for the protection and defense of those connections which are dearer than life itself. Thus an army was poured forth by the woods, mountains, and marshes, which in this part were thickly sown with plantations and villages. The Americans recalled their courage, and, when their regular army seemed to be entirely wasted, the spirit of the country produced a much greater and more formid- able force. "J While resolute recruits, accustomed to the use of fire-arms, and all partially trained by service in the provincial militias, were thus flocking to the standard of Gates and Arnold at Saratoga, and • Lord Chatham's speech on the employment of Indians In the war. t see. In the 'Annual KegLster " Tor 17TT, p. liT. the " Narrative of the Murder ol Mlas M'Crea, the daughter of an Amerlcaa Loyalist, " X Burk6> 260 DECISIVE BATTLES. while Burgoyne was engaged at Fort Edward in proTiding the means for the farther advance of his army through the intricate and hostile country that still lay before him, two events occurred, in each of which the British sustained loss and the Americans ob- tained advantage, the moral effects of which were even more import- ant than the immediate result of the encounters. When Burgoyne left Canada, General St. Leger was detached from that province with a mixed force of about 1000 men and some light field-pieces across Lake Ontario against Fort Stanwix, which the Americans held. After capturing this, he was to march along the Mohawk River to its confluence with the Hudson, between Saratogo and Albany, where his force and that of Burgoyne's were to unite. But, after some successes, St. Leger was obliged to retreat, and to abandon his tents and large quantities of stores to the garrison. At the very time that General Burgoyne heard of this disaster, he experienced one still more severe in the defeat of Colonel Baum, with a large detachment of German troops, at Bennington, whither Burgoyne had sent them for the purpose of capturing some maga- zines of provisions, of which the British army stood greatly in need. The Americans, augmented by continual accessions of strength, siicceeded, after many attacks, in breaking this corps, which fled into the woods, and left its commander mortally wounded on the field : they then marched against a force of five hundred grenadiers and light infantry, which was advancing to Colonel Baum's assistance under Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman, who, after a gallant resistance, was obliged to retreat on the main army. The British loss in these two actions exceeded six hundred men ; and a party of American Loyalists, on their way to join the Army, having attached themselves to Colonel Baum's corps, were destroyed with it. Notwithstanding these reverses, which added greatly to the spirit and numbers of the American forces, Burgoyne determined to advance. It was impossible any longer to keep up his communi- cations with Canada by way of the lakes, so as to supply his army on his southward march ; but having, by unremitting exer- tions, collected provisions for thirty days, he crossed the Hudson by means of a bridge of rafts, and, marching a short distance along its western bank, he encamped on the 14th of September on the heights of Saratoga, about sixteen miles from Albany. The Americans had fallen back from Saratoga, and were now strongly posted near Stillwater, about half way between Saratoga and Al- bany, and showed a determination to recede no farther. Meanwhile Lord Howe, with the bulk of the British army that had lain at New York, had sailed away to the Delaware, and there commenced a campaign against Washington, in which the English general tookPhilailelphia, and gained other showy but unprofitable successes. But Sir Henry Clinton, a brave and skilful officer, was left with a considerable force at New York, and he undertook the VICTOR r OF THE AMEBIC AXS AT SARATOGA. 261 task of moving up the Hudson to co-operate with Burgoyne. Clinton was obligtd for this purpose to wait for re-enforcementa which had been promised from England, and these did not arrive till September. As soon as he received them, Clinton embarked about 3,000 of his men on a flotilla, convoyed by some ships of war under Commander Hotham, and proceeded to force his way up the river. The country between Burgojme's position at Saratoga and that of the Americans at Stillwater was rugged, and seamed with creeks and water-courses ; but, after great labor in making bridges and temporary causeways, the British army moved forward. About four miles from Saratoga, on the afternoon of the 19th of September, a sharp encounter took place between part of the English right wing, under Burgoyne himself, and a strong body of the enemy, under Gates and Arnold. The conflict lasted till sunset. The British remained masters of the field ; but the loss on each side was nearly equal (from five hundred to six hundred men); and the si^irits of the Americans were greatly raised by having withstood the best regular troops of the English army. Burgoyne now halted again, and strengthened his position by field-works and redoiabts ; and the Americans also improved their defenses. The two armies re- mained nearly within cannon-shot of each other for a considerable time, during which Burgoyne was anxiously looking for intelli- gence of the promised expedition from New York, which, according to the original plan, ought by this time to have been approaching Albany from the south. At last a messenger from Clinton made his way, with great difficulty, to Burgoyne's camji and brought the information that Clinton was on his way up the Hudson to attack the American forts which barred the passage up that, river to Albany. Burgoyne, in reply, stated his hopes that the promised co-opera- tion would be speedy and decisive, and added, that unless he re- ceived assistance before the 10th of October, he would be obliged to retreat to the lakes through want of provisions. The Indians and the Canadians now began to desert Burgoyne, while, on the other hand, Gates's army was continually re-enforced by fresh bodies of the militia. An expeditionary force was de- tached by the Americans, which made a bold, though unsuccessful attempt to retake Ticonderoga. And finding the number and spirit of the enemy to increase daily and his o\sti stores of pro- visions to diminish, Burgoyne determined on attacking the Amer- icans in front of him, and, by dislodging them from their position, to gain the means of moving iipon Albany, or, at least, of relieving his troops from the straitened position in which they were cooped up. Burgoyne's force was now reduced to less than 6,000 men. The right of his camp was on some high ground a little to the west of the river : thence his intrenchments extended along the lower pcround to the bank of the Hudson, their line being nearly at a 262 DECISIVE BATTLES, right angle with the course of the stream. The lines were fortified in the center and on the left with redoubts and fieldworks. The numerical force of the Americans was now greater than the British, even in regular troops, and the numbers of the militia and volun- teers which had joinud Gates and Arnold were greater still. The right of the American position, that is to say, the part of it nearest to the river, was ioo strong to be assailed with any prospect of success, and Burgoyne therefore determined to endeavor to force their left. For this purpose he formed a column of 1500 regular troops, with two twelve-pounders, two howitzers, and six six- pounders. He headed this in person, having Generals Philips, Eiedesel, and Frazer under him. The enemy's force immediately in front of his lines was so strong that he dared not weaken the troops who guarded them by detaching any more to strengthen his column of attack. The right of the camp was commanded by Generals Hamilton and Spaight ; the left part of it was committed to the charge of Brigadier GoU. It was on the 7th of October that Burgoyne led his column on to the attack; and on the preceding day, tlae 6th, Clinton had buc- cessfully executed a brilliant enterprise against the two American forts which barred bis progress up the Hudson. He had captured them both, with severe loss to the American forces opposed to him; he had destroyed the fleet which the Americans had been forming on the Hudson, under the protection of their forts; and the up- ward river was laid open to his squadron. He was now only a hundred and fifty-six miles distant from Burgoyne, and a detach- ment of 1700 men actually advanced within forty miles of Albany. Unfortunately, Burgoyne and Clinton were each ignorant of the other's movements; but if Burgoyne had won his battle on the 7th, he must, on advancing, have soon learned the tidings of Clinton's success, and Clinton would have heard of his. A junction would Boon have been made of the two victorious armies, and the great objects of the campaign might yet have been accomplished. All depended on the fortune of the column with which Burgoyne, on the eventful 7th of October, 1777, advanced against the American position. There were brave men, both English and German, in its ranks; and, in pai-ticular, it comprised one of the best bodies of Grenadiers in the British service. Burgoyne pushed forward some bodies of irregular troops to distract the enemy's attention, and led his column to within three quarters of a mile from the left of Gates's camp, and then deploy- ed his men into line. The Grenadiers under Major Ackland were drawn up on the left, a corps of Germans in the center, and the English Light Infantry and the 24th regiment on the right. But Gates did not wait to be attacked; and directly the British line was formed and began to advance, the American general, with admir- able skill, caused a strong force to make a sudden and vehement rush against its left. The Grenadiers under Ackland sustained the VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 263 charge of superior numbers nobly. But Gates sent more Ameri- cans forward, and in a few minutes the action became general along the center, so as to prevent the Germans from sending any help to the Grenadiers. Burgoyne's right was not yet engaged ; but a mass of the enemy were observed advancing from their extreme left, with the evident intention of turning the British right, and cutting oflf its retreat. The Light Infantry and the 24;th now fell back, and formed an oblique second line, which enabled them to baffle this maneuver, and also to succor their comrades in the left wing, the gallant Grenadiers, who were overpowered by superior numbers, and, but for this aid, must have been cut to pieces. Arnold now came up with three American regiments, and attacked the right flank of the English double line. Burgoyne's whole force was soon compelled to retreat toward their camp ; the left and center were in complete disorder ; but the Light Infantry and the 24:th checked the fury of the assailants, and the remains of Burgoyne's column with great difficulty effected their return to their camp, leaving six of their guns in the possession of the enemy, and great numbers of killed and wounded on the field ; and especially a large proportion of the artillery-men, who had stood to their guns until shot down or bayoneted beside them by the advancing Americans. Burgoyne's column had been defeated, but the action was not yet over. The English had scarcely entered the camp, when the Americans, pursuing their success, assaulted it in several places with uncommon fierceness, rushing to the lines through a severe fire of grape-shot and musketry with the utmost fury. Arnold especially, who on this day appeared maddened with the thirst of combat and carnage, urged on the attack against a part of the in- trenchments which was occupied by the Light Infantry under Lord Balcarras.* But the English received him with vigor and spirit. The struggle here was obstinate and sanguinary. At length, as it grew toward evening, Arnold, having forced all obstacles, entered the works with some of the most fearless of his followers. P)Ut in this critical moment of glory and danger he received a painful wound in the same leg which had already been injured at the issault on Quebec. To his bitter regret, he was obliged to be car- ried back. His party still continued the attack ; but the English also continued their obstinate resistance, and at last night fell, and the assailants withdrew from this quarter of the British intrench- ments. But in another part the attack had been more successful. A body of the Americans, under Colonel Brooke, forced their way in through a jjart of the intrenchments on the extreme right, which was defended by the German reserve under Colonel Breyman. The Germans resisted well, and Breyman died in defense of hia post ; but the Americans made good the ground which they had * Botta'a "American War," book vlli. 264 DECISIVE BATTLES. won, and captured baggage, tents, artillery, and a store of ammu- nition, wbicli they were greatly in need of. They had, by estab- lishing themselves on this point, acquired the means of completely tiirning the right flank of the British, and gaining their rear. To prevent this calamity, Burgoyne effected during the night a com- plete change of position. With great skill, he removed his whole army to some heights near the river, a little northward of the former camp, and he there drew up his men, expecting to be at- tacked on the following day. But Gates was resolved not to risk the certain triumph which his success had already secured for him. He harassed the English with skirmishes, but attempted no regular attack. Meanwhile he detached bodies of troops on both sides of the Hudson to prevent the British from recrossing that river and to bar their retreat. When night fell, it became absolutely necessary for Biirgoj^ne to retire again, and, accordingly, the troops were marched through a stormy and rainy night toward Saratoga, aban- doning their sick and wounded, and the greater part of their baggage to the enemy. Before the rear guard quitted the camp, the last sad honors were paid to the brave General Frazer, who had been mortally wounded on the 7th, and expired on the following day. The funeral of this gallant soldier is thus described by the Italian historian Botta : " Toward midnight the body of General Frazer was buried in the British camp. His brother officers assembled sadly round while the funeral service was read over the remains of their brave comrade, and his body was committed to the hostile earth. The ceremony, always mournful and solemn of itself, was rendered even terrible by the sense of recent losses, of present and future dangers, and of regret for the deceased. Meanwhile theblazeand roar of th§ American artilllery amid the natural darkness and still- ness of the night came on the senses with startling awe. The grave had been dug within range of the enemy's batteries ; and while the service was proceeding, a cannon ball struck the ground close to the coffin, and spattered earth over the face of the officiat- ing chaplain."* Burgoyne now took up Ms last position on the heights near Sara- toga ; and hemmed in by the enemy who refused any encounter, and baffled in all his attemjits at finding a path of escape, he there lingered until famine compelled him to capitulate. The fortitude of tlie British army diaring this melanchc^y period has been justly eulogized by many native historians, but I prefer quoting the tes- timony of a foreign writer, as free from all possibility of partiality. Botta says :t "It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable condition to which the British army was now reduced. The troops were worn down by a series of toil, privation, sickness and desperate * Botta, book vlii. t Book vllL VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 265 fighting. They were abandoned by the Indians and Canadians, and the effective force of the whole army was now diminished by repeated and heavy losses, which had principally fallen on the best soldiers and the most distinguished officers, from 10,000 combat- ants to less than one half that number. Of this remnant little more than 3,000 were English. "In these circumstances, and thus weakened, they were invested by an ai-my of four times their own number, whose position ex- tended three parts of a circle round them ; who refused to fight them, as knowing their weakness, and who, from the nature of the ground could not be attacked in any part. In this helpless con- dition, obliged to be constantly under arms, while the enemy's cannon played on every part of their camp, and even the American rifle balls whistled in many parts of the lines, the troops of Bur- goyne retained their customary firmness, and, while sinking under a hard necessity, they showed themselves worthy of a better fate. Thej' could not be reproached with an action or a word which betrayed a want of temper or of fortitude." At length the 13th of October arrived, and as no prospect of assistance appeared, and the provisions were nearly exhausted, Burgoyne, by the iinanimous advice of a council of war, sent a messenger to the American camp to treat of a Convention. General Gates in the first instance demanded that the royal army should surrender prisoners of war. He also proposed that the British should ground their arms. Burgoyne replied, ' ' This article is inadmissible in every extremity ; sooner than this army will consent to ground their arms in their encampment, they will rush on the enemj', determined to take no quarter." After various messages, a convention for the surrender of the army was settled, which provided that "the troops under General Burgoyne were to march out of their camp with the honors of war, and the artillery of the entrenchments, to the verge of the river, where the armsand artillery were to be left. The arms to be piled by word of command from their own officers. A free passage was to be granted to the army under Lieutenant General Burgoyne to Great Britain, upon condition of not serving again in North America during the pres- ent contest." The Articles of Capitulation were settled on the 15th of October ; and on that very evening a messenger arrived from Clinton with an account of his success, and with the tidings that part of his force had penetrated as far as Esopus, within fifty miles of Bur- goyne's camp. But it was too late. The public faith was pledged; and the army was indeed too debilitated by fatigue and hunger to resist an attack, if made ; and Gates certainly would have made it, if the Convention had been broken off. Accordingly, on the 17th, the Convention of Saratoga was carried into effect. ' By this Con- vention 5,790 men surrendered themselves as prisoners. The sick and wounded left in the CAmp when the British retreated to Sarft- 266 DECISlyj£ BATTLES. toga, together with the numbers of the British, German, and Cana- dian troops who were killed, wounded, or taken, and who had deserted in the preceding part of the expedition, were reckoned to be 4,689. The British sick and wounded who had fallen into the hands of the Amerians after the battle of the seventh were treated with ex- emplary humanity; and when the Convention was executed, Gen- eral Gates showed a noble delicacy of feeling, which deserves the highest degree of honor. Every circumstance was avoided which could give the appearance of triumph. The American troops remained within their lines until the British had i^iled their arms; and when this was done, the vanquished officers and soldiers were received with freindly kindness by their victors, and their immedi- ate wants were promptly and liberally supplied. Discussions and disputes afterward arose as to some of the terms of the Convention, and the American Congress refused for a long time to carry into effect the article which provided for the return of Burgoyne's men to Europe ; but no blame was imputed to General Gates or his army, who showed themselves to be generous as they had proved themselves to be brave. Gates, after the victory, immediately dispatched to Colonel Wil- kinson to carry the happy tidings to Congress. On being intro- duced into the hall, he said, "The whole British army has laid its arms at Saratoga ; our own, full of vigor and courage, expect your orders. It is for your wisdom to decide where the country may still have need of their services." Honors and rewards were liberally voted by the Congress to their conquering general and his men ; and it would be difficult (says the Italian historian) to describe the transports of joy which the news of this event excited among the Americans. They began to flatter themselves voth a still more happy future. No one any longer felt any doubt about their achieving their independence. All hoped, and with good reason, that a success of this importance would at length determine France, and the other European powers that waited for her exam pie, to declare themselves in favor of America. " There could no longer be any question respecting the future, since there was no longer the risk of espousing the couse of a people too feeble to defend themselves."* The truth of this was soon displayed in the conduct of France. When the news arrived at Paris of the capture of Ticonderoga, and of the victorious march of Burgoyne toward Albany, events which seemed decisive in favor of the English, instructions had been immediately dispatched to Nantz, and the other ports of the kingdom, that no American privateers should be suffered to enter them, except from indispensable necessity, as to repair their vessels^ to obtain provisions, or to escape the perils of the sea. The Amer- ♦ Baparte passes the Alps, and defeats the Austrians at ittirengo. Moreau wins the battle of Hohenlinden. 1801, Trsaty of Litueville between France and Austria. The tattle of Copenhagen. 1802. Peace of Amiens. 1803. War between England and France renewed. 1801. Napoleon Bonaparte is made Emperor of France, 1805. Great preparations of Napoleon to invade England. Aus- tria, supi^orted by Russia, renews war with France. Napoleon marches into Germanj^, takes Vienna, and gains the battle of Austerlitz. Lord Nelson destroys the combined French and Span- ish fleets, and is killed at the battle of Trafalgar. 1806. War between Prussia and France. Napoleon conquers Prussia at the battle of Jena. 1807. Obstinate warfare between the French and Prussian arm- ies in East Prussia and Poland, Peace of Tilsit. 1808. Napoleon endeavors to make his brother King of Spain. Rising of the Spanish nation against him. England sends troops to aid the Spaniards. Battle of Vimiera and Corunna. 1809. War renewed between France and Austria. Battles of Aspeme and Wagram. Peace granted to Austria. L< li Wel- lington's victory of Talavera, in Spain. 1810. Marriage of Napoleon and the Archduchess Maria Louisa, Holland annexed to France. 1812. War between England and the United States, Napoleon invades Russia. Battle of Borodino. The French occupy Mos- cow, which is burned. Disastrous retreat and almost total de- struction of the great army of France, 1813. Prussia and Austria take up arms again against France. Battles of Lutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, Cvilm, and Leipsic. The French are driven out of Germany. Lord Wellington gains the great battle of Vittoria, which completes the rescue of Spain from France. 1811. The allies invade France on the eastern, and Lord Wel- lington inv.ides it on the southern frontier. Battles of Laon, Montmirail, Arcis-sur Aube, and others in the northeast of France; and of Toulouse in the south. Paris surrenders to the allies, and Napoleon abdicates. First restoration of the Bourbons. Napo- leon goes to the Isle of Elba, which is assigned to'him by the al- lien. Treaty of Ghent between the United States and England. 282 DECISIVE BATTLES. CHAPTER XV. BATTLE or WATERLOO. A.D. 1815. Thou flrst and last of fields, klng-maMng victory 1— Btbok. England has now been blessed with thirty-six years of peace. At no other period of her history can a similarly long cessation from a state of warfare be found. It is true that our troops have had battles to fight during this interval for the protection and ex- tension of our Indian possessions and our colonies, butthese have been with distant and unimportant enemies. The danger has never been brought near our own shores, and no matter of vital importance to our empire has ever been at stake. We have not had hostilities with either France, America, or Russia ; and when not at war with any of our peers, we feel ourselves to be substan- tially at peace. There has, indeed, throughout this long period, been no great war, like those with which the previous history of modern Europe abounds. There have been formidable collisions between particular states, and there have been still more formid- able collisions between the armed champions of the conflicting principles of absolutism and democracy ; but there has been no general war, like those of the French Revolution, like the Ameri- can, or the Seven Years' War, or like the war of the Spanish Suc- cession. It would be far too much to augur from this that no sim- ilar wars will again convulse the world; butthevalueof the period of peace which Europe has gained is incalculable, even if we look on it as only a long truce, and expect again to see the nations of the earth recur to what some philosophers have termed man's nat- ural state of warfare. No equal number of years can be found during which science, commerce, and civilization have advanced so rapidly and so ex- tensively as has been the case since 1815. When we trace their progress, especially in this country, it is impossible not to feel that their wondrous development has been mainly due to the land having been at peace. * Their good effects cannot be obliterated even if a series of wars were to recommence. When we reflect on this, and contrast these thirty-six years with the period that preceded them— a period of violence, of tumult, of unrestingly destructive energy— a period throughout which the wealth of na- tions was scattered like sand, and the blood of nations lavished like water, it is impossible not to look with deep interest on the final crisis of that dark and dreadful epoch— the crisis out of which our own happier cycle of years has been evolved. The • ?ee the excellent Introduction to Mr. Charles Knight's History or "TMrty Tears' Peace." BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 28S great battle which ended the t-wenty-three years' war of the first French Revolution, and which quelled the man whose genius and ambition had so long disturbed and desolated the world, deserves to be regarded by us not only with peculiar pride as one of our greatest national victories, but with peculiar gratitude for the re- pose which it secured for us and for the greater part of the human race. One good test for determining the importance of Waterloo is to ascertain what was felt by wise and prudent statesmen before that battle respecting the return of Napoleon from Elba to the imperial throne of France, and the probable effects of his success. For this purpose, I will quote the words, not of any of our vehement anti-Gallican politicians of the school of Pitt, but of a leader of our Liberal party, of a man whose reputation as a jiirist, a histo- rian, and a far-sighted and candid statesman was, and is, deserv- edly high, not only in this country, but throughout Europe. Sir James Mackintosh said of the return from Elba, "Was it in the power of language to describe the evil? Wars which had raged for more than twenty years throughout Europe, which had spread blood and desolation from Cadiz to Moscow, and from Naples to Copenhagen ; which had wasted the means of human enjoyment, and destroyed the instruments of social im- provement ; which threatened to diffuse among the European na- tions the dissolute and ferocious habits of a predatory soldiery — at length, by one of those vicissitudes which bid defiance to the foresight of man, had been brought to a close, upon the whole, happy, beyond all reasonable expectation, M'ith no violent shock to national independence, with some tolerable compromise be» tween the opinions of the age and the reverence due to ancient institutions ; with no too signal or mortifying triumph over the legitimate interests or avowable feelings of any numerous body of men, and, above all, without those retaliations against nations or parties which beget new convulsions, often as horrible as those which they close, and perpetuate revenge, and hatred, and blood from age to age. Europe seemed to breathe after her sufferings. In the midst of this fair prospect and of these consolatory hopes, Napoleon Bonaparte escaped from Elba ; three small vessels reached the coast of Provence ; their hopes are instantly dispelled; the work of our toil and fortitude is undone ; the blood of Europe is spilled in vain — ' Ibl omnls effusus lahor ! ' " The exertions which the allied powers made at this crisis to grapple promptly with the French emperor have truly been termed gigantic, and never were Napoleon's genius and activity more signally displayed than in the celerity and skill by which he brought forward nil the military resources of France, which the reverses of the three preceding j^atb, And tho pacific policj of 284 DECISIVE BATTLES. tliG Bourbons during tho months of their first restoration, had greatly diminished and disorganized. He re-entered Paris on the 20th of March, and by the end of May, besides sending a force into La Vendee to put down the armed risings of the Eoyalists in that province, and besides providing troops i;nder Massena and Suchet for the defense of the southern frontiers of France, Na- poleon had an army assembled in the northeast for active opera- tions under his own command, which amounted to between 120 and 130,000 men,* with a superb park of artillery, and in the highest possible state of equipment, discipline, and efficiency. The approach of the many Russians, Austrians, Bavarians, and other foes of the French emperor to the Ehine was necessarily slow ; but the two most active of the allied powers had occupied Belgium with their troops while Napoleon was organizing his forces. Marshal Blucher was there with 116,000 Prussians, and the Duke of Wellington was there also with about 106,000 troops, either British or in British pay.f Napoleon determined to attack these enemies in Belgium. The disparity of numbers was indeed great, but delay was sure to increase the number of his enemies much faster than re-enforcements could join his own ranks. He considered also that " the enemy's troops were cantoned under the command of two generals, and composed of nations difltering both in interest and in feelings."! His own army was under his own sole command. It was composed exclusively of French sol- diers, mostly of veterans, well acquainted with their officers and with each other, and full of enthusiastic confidence in their com- mander. If he could separate the Prussians from the British, so as to attack each in detail, he felt sanguine of success, not only against these, the most resolute of his many adversaries, but also against the other masses that were slowly laboring up against his southeastern frontiers. The triple chain of strong fortresses which the French possessed on the Belgian frontier formed a curtain, behind which Napoleon was able to concentrate his army, and to conceal till the very last moment the precise line of attack which he intended to take. On the other hand, Blucher and Wellington were obliged to canton their troops along a line of open country of considerable length, BO as to watch for the outbreak of Napoleon from whichever point of his chain of strongholds he should please to make it. Blucher, with his army, occupied the banks of the Sambre and the Meuse, from Liege on his left, to Charleroi on his right ; and the Duke of Wellington covered Brussels, his cantonments being partly in front of that city, and between it and the French frontier, and partly on its west,; their extreme right being at Courtray and * See, for these numbers, Sltorne's " History of the Campaign of Water- loo," vol. 1., p. 41. t Ibid., vol. i., chap. 111. t Montholon's "Memoirs," p. -15, BA 1 TLE OF WA TERL 00. 285 Tournay, Mobile their left ui^proachecl Cliarleroiandcommi;iiicated ■with the Prassian right. It was upon Charleroi that Napoleon resolved to level his attack, in hopes of severing the two allied armies from each other, and then pursuing his favorite tactic of assailing each separately with a superior force on the battle-field, though the aggregate of their numbers considerably exceeded his own. On the 15th of June the French army was suddenlj' in motion, and crossed the frontier in three columns, which were pointed upon Charleroi and its vicinity. The French line of advance upon Brussels, which city Napoleon resolved to occupj-, thus lay right through the center of the line of the cantonments of the allies. The Prussian general rapidly concentrated his forces, call- ing them in from the left, and the English general concentrated his, calling them in from the right toward the menaced center of the combined position. On the morning of the 16th, Blucher was in position at Ligny, to the northeast of Charleroi, with 80,000 men. Wellington's troops were concentrating at Quatro Bras, which lies due north of Charleroi, and is about nine miles from Ligny. On the 16th, Napoleon in person attacked Blucher, and, after a long and obstinate battle, defeated him, and compelled the Prussian army to retire northward toward Wavre. On the same» day. Marshal Nej% with a large part of the French army, attacked the English troops at Quatre Bras, and a very severe engagement took place, in which Ney failed in defeating the British, but succeeded in jireventing their sending any help to Bhicher, -who was being beaten by the emperor at Ligny. On the news of Bluchers defeat at Ligny reaching Wellington, he foresaw that the emperor's army would now be directed upon him, and he accordingly retreated in order to restore his communications with his ally, which would have been dislocated by the Prussians falling back from Ligny to Wavre if the English had remained in advance at Quatre Bras. During the 17th, therefore, Wellington retreated, being pursued, but little molested by the main French army, over about half the space between Quatre Bras and Brussels. This brought him again parallel, on a line running from west to east, with Blucher, who was at Wavre. Having ascertained that the Prussian army, though beaten on the IGth, was not broken, and having received a promise from its general to march to his assistance, Wellington determined to halt, and to give battle to the French emperor in the position, which, from a village in its neighborhood, has received the ever- memorable name of the field of Waterloo. Sir Walter Scott, in his "Life of Napoleon," remarks of Water- loo that "the scone of this celebrated action must be familiar to most readers either from description or recollection." The nar- ratives of Sir Walter himself, of Alison, Gleig, Siborne, and others, must Lave made the events of the Ijattlo almost equally well known. I might perhaps, content myself with referring to their 286 DECISIVE BATTLES. pages, and avoid the difficult task of dealing with a subject which has already been discussed so copiously, so clearly, and so elo- quently by others. In particular, the description by Captain Sibome of the Waterloo campaign is so full and so minute, so scrupialously accurate, and, at the same time, so spirited and graphic that it will long defy the competition of far abler pens than mine. I shall only aim at giving a general idea of the main features of this great event, of this discrowning and crowning victory. When, after a very hard-fought and a long-doubtful day, Napo- leon had succeeded in driving back the Prussian army from Lign.v, and had resolved on marching himself to assail the English, he sent, on the 17th, Marshal Grouchy with 30,000 men to pursue the defeated Prussians, and to prevent their marching to aid the Duke of Wellington. Great recriminations passed afterward between the marshal and the emperor as to how this duty was attempted to be performed, and the reasons why Grouchy failed on the 18th to arrest the lateral movement of the Prussian troops from Wavre toward Waterloo. It may be sufficient to remark here that Grouchy was not sent in pursuit of Blucher till late on the 17th, and that the force given to nim was insufficient to make head against the whole Prussian army ; for Blucher's men, though they were beaten *back, and suiiered severe loss at Ligny, were neither routed nor disheartened ; and they were joined at Wavre by a large division of their comrades under General Bulow, who had taken no part in the battle of the 16th, and who were fresh for the march to Waterloo against the French on the 18th. But the failure of Grouchy was in truth mainly owing to the indomitable heroism of Blucher him- self, who, though severely injured in the battle at Ligny, was as energetic and active as ever in bringing his men into action again, and who had the resolution to expose a part of his army, under Thielman, to be overwhelmed by Grouchy at Wavre on the 18th, while he urged the march of the mass of his troops upon Waterloo. "It is not at Wavre, but at Waterloo," said the old field-marshal, "that the campaign is to be decided;" and he risked a detach- ment, and won the campaign accordingly. Wellington and Blucher trusted each other as cordially, and co-operated as zealously, as former!/ had been the case with Marlborough and Eugene. It was in full reliance on Blucher's promise to join him that the duke stood his ground and fought at Waterloo ; and those who have ventured to impugn the duke's capacity as a general ought to have had common sense enough to perceive that to charge the duke with having won the battle of Waterloo by the help of the Prussians is really to say that he won it by the very means on which he re- lied, and without the eipectation of which the battle would not have been fought. Napoleon himself has found fault with Wellington* for not having * see Montliolon'3 "Memoirs," vol. Iv. p. 44. BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 287 retreated beyond Waterloo. The short answer may be, that the duke had reason to expect that his army could singly resist the French at Waterloo until the Prussians came up, and that, on the Prussians joining, there would be a sufficient force, united under himself and Blucher, for completely overwhelming the enemy. And while Napoleon thus censures his great adversary, he invol- untarily bears the highest possible testimony to the military char- acter of the English, and proves decisively of what paramount importance was the battle to which he challenged his fearlesa opponent. Napoleon asks, " If the English army had been beaten at Waterloo, what would have been the use of those numerous bodies oj troops, of Prussians, Austrians, Germans, and Spaniards, which wen advancing by forced marches to the Bhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees ?"" The strength of the army under the Duke of Wellington at Water- loo was 49,608 infantry, 12,402 cavalrj', and 5,645 artillerymen, with 156 guns. t But of this total of 67,655 men, scarcely 24,000 were British, a circumstance of very serious importance if Napoleon's own estimate of the relative value of troops of different nations is to be taken. In the emperor's own words, speaking of this cam- paign, "A French soldier would not be equal to more than one English soldier, but he would not be afraid to meet two Dutchmen, Prussians, or soldiers of the Confederation. "J There were about 6,000 men of the old German Legion with the duke: these were veteran troops, and of excellent quality. But the rest of the army was mr.de up of Hanoverians, Brunswickers, Nassauers, Dutch, and Belgians, many of whom were tried soldiers, and fought well, but many had been lately levied, and not a few were justly sus- pected of a strong wish to fight under the French eagles rather than against them. Napoleon's army at Waterloo consisted of 48,950 infantry, 15,765 cavalry, 7,232 artillerymen, being a total of 71,947 men and 246 guns.§ They were the elite of the national forces of France ; and of all the numerous gallant armies which that martial land has poured forth, never was there one braver, or better disciplined, or better led, than the host that took up its position at Waterloo on the morning of the 18th of June, 1815. Perhaps those who have not seen the field of battle at Waterloo, or the admirable model of the ground and of the conflicting armies which was executed by Captain Siborne, may gain a generally accurate idea of the localities by picturing to themselves a valley between two and three miles long, of various breadths at different points, but generally not exceeding half a mile. On each side of the valley there is a winding chain of low hills, running somewhat parallel with each other. The declivity from each of these ranges of hills to the intervening valley is gentle but not uniform, the * Montholon's "Memoirs,'' vol. Iv., p. 44. t Slbome, vol. I., p. .3T6 t Montholon 3 " Memoirs," vol. Iv., p. 41. i See blbome, ut uupra. 288 DECISIVE BATTLES. unLhilations of tlie ground being frequent and considerable. The English army was posted on the northern, and the French army occupiod the southern riclge. The artillery of each side thundered at the other from their respective heights throughout the day, and the charge:, of horse and foot were made across the valley that has been described. The village of Mont St. Jean is situate a little behind the center of the northern chain of hills, and the village of La Belle Alliance is close behind the center of the southern ridge. The high road from Charlerio to Brussels runs through both these villages, and bisects, therefore, both the English and the French positions. The line of this road was the line of Napoleon's in- tended advance on Brussels. _ There are some other local particulars connected with the situa- tion of each army which it is necessary to bear in mind. The strength of the British position did not consist merely in the occu- pation of a ridge of high groimd. A village and ravine, called Merk Braine, on the Diike of Wellington's extreme right, secured him from his flank being turned on that side ; and on his extreme left, two little hamlets, called La Haye and Papillote, gave a simi- lar thoiigh a slighter protection. It was, however, less necessary to provide for this extremity of the position, as it was on this (the eastern) side that the Prussians were coming up. Behind the whole British position is the great and extensive forest of Soignies. As no attempt was made by the French to tiirn either of the English flanks, and the battle was a day of straightforward fight- ing, it is chiefly important to see what posts there were in front of the British line of hills of which advantage could be taken either to repel or facilitate an attack ; and it will be seen that there were two, and 'hat each was of very great importance in the action. In front of the British right, that is to say, on the northern slope of the valley toward its western end, there stood an old-fashioned Flemish farm-house called Goumont or Hougoumont, with out- buildings and a garden, and with a copse of beech trees of about two acres in extent round it. This was strongly garrisoned by the allied troops ; and while it was in their possession, it was difficult for the enemy to press on and force the British right wing. On the other hand, if the enemy could occupy it, it would be difficult for that wing to keep its ground on the heights, with a strong post held adversely in its immediate front, being one that would give much shelter to the enemy's marksmen, and great facilities for the sudden concentration of attacking cohimns. Almost immediately in front of the British center, and not so far down the slope as Hougoumont, there was another farm-house, of a smaller size, called La Haye Sainte, * which was also held by the British troops, * Not to 1)6 conTounded with tlie hamlet of La Have, at the extreme lelt ot the British line. BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 289 find the occupation of wMch was found tabe of verjf serious con sequence. With respect to the French position, the principal feature to 1)6 noticed is the village of Planchenoit, which laj' a little in the rear of their right (i.e., on the eastern side), and which proved to be of great importance in aiding them to check the advance of the Prus- sians. As has been already mentioned, the Prussians, on the morning of the 18th, were at Wavre, about twelve miles to the east of the field of battle at Waterloo. The junction of Bulow's division hal more than made up for the loss sustained at Ligny ; and leaving Thielman, with about 17,000 men, to hold his ground as he best could against the attack which Grouchy was about to make on Wavre, Bulow and Blucher moved with the rest of the Prussians upon Waterloo. It was calculated that they would be there by three o'clock ; but the extremely difficult nature of the ground which they had to traverse, rendered worse by the torrents of rain that had just fallen, delayed them long on their twelve miles' march. The night of the 17th was wet and stormy ; and when the dawn of the memorable 18th of June broke, the rain was still descending heavily. The French and British armies rose from their dreary bivouacs and began to form, each on the high ground which it occupied. Toward nine the weather grew clearer, and each army was able to watch the postion and arrangements of the other on the opposite side of the valley. The Duke of Wellington drew up his infantry in two lines, the second line being composed principally of Dutch and Belgian troops, whose fidelity was doubtful, and of those regiments of other nations which had suffered most severely at Quatre Bras on the 16th. This second line was posted on the northern declivity of the hills, so as to be sheltered from the French cannonade. The cavalry was stationed at intei-vals along the line in the rear, the largest force of horse being collected on the left of the center, to the east of the Charleroi road. On the opposite heights the French army was drawn up in two general lines, with the entire force of the Imperial Giiards, cavalry as well as infantry, in rear of the center, as a reserve. English militai-y critics have highly eulogized the admirable arrangement which Napoleon made of his forces of each arm, so as to give him the most ample means of sustainim;, by an immediate and sufficient support, any attack, from whatever point he might direct it, and of drawing promptly together a strong force, to resist any attack that might be made on himself in any part of the field.* When his troops were all arrayed, ho rodo along the lines, receiving every where the most enthusiastic cheers from his men, of whose entire devotion to him his assurance was * Slbome, vol. 1., p. 3T6. 290 DECISIVE BATTLES. now doubly sure. On the southern side of the valley the duke'a army was also arrayed, and ready to meet the menaced attack. " The two armies were now fairly in presence of each other, and their mutual observation was governed by the most intense inter- est and the most scrutinizing anxiety. In a still greater degree did these feelings actuate their commanders, while watching each other's preparatory movements, and minutely scanning the surface of the arena on which tactical skill, habitual prowess, physical strength, and moral courage were to decide, not alone their own, but, in all probability, the fate of Europe. Apart from national interests and considerations, and viewed solely in connection with the ojiposite characters of the two ilhxstrious chiefs, the approach- ing contest was contemplated with anxious solicitude by the whole military world. Need this create surprise when we reflect that the struggle was one for mastery between the far-famed conqueror of Italy and the victorious liberator of the Peninsula ; between the triumphant vanquisher of Eastei-n Europe, and the bold and suc- cessful invader of the south of France ! Fever was the issue of a single battle looked forward to as involving consequences of such vast importance, of such universal influence."* It was approaching noon before the action commenced. Napo- leon, in his memoirs, gives as the reason for this delay, the miry state of the ground through the heavy rains of the preceding night and day, which rendered it impossible for cavalry or artillery to maneuver on it till a few hours of dry weather had given it its natural consistency. It has been supposed, also, that he trusted to the efi"ect which the sight of the imposing array of his own forces was likely to produce on the part of the allied army. The Belgian regiments had been tampered with ; tind Napoleon had well found- ed hopes of seeing them quit the Duke of Wellington in a body, and range themselves under his own eagles. The duke, however, who knew and did not trust them, had guarded against the risk of this by breaking up the corps of Belgians, and distributing them in separate regiments among troops on whom he could rely.f At last, at about half past eleven o'clock. Napoleon began the battle by directing a jjowerful force from his left wing under his brother. Prince Jerome, to attack Hougoumont. Column after column of the French now descended from the west of the south- ern heights, and assailed that post with fiery valor, which was encountered with the most determined bravery. The French won the copse round the house, but a party of the British Guards held the house itself throughout the day. Amid shell and shot, and the blazing fragments of part of the buildings, this obstinate contest was continued. But still the English held Hougoumont, though the French occasionally moved forward in such numbers as enabled them to sui-round and mask this post with jsart of their troops from * SJbome, vol. i., p. 377. t Ibid, p. 373. BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 291 their left wing, while others pressed onward up the slope, and as- Bailed the British right. The cannonade, which commenced at first between the British right and the French left, in consequence of the attack on Hou- goumont, soon became general along both lines ; and about one o'clock Napoleon directed a grand attack to be made under Marshal Ney upon the center and left wing of the allied army. For this purpose four columns of infantry, amounting to about 18,000 men, were collected, supported by a strong division of cavalry under the celebrated Kellerman, and seventy-four guns were brought forward ready to be posted on the right of a little undulation of the ground in the interval between the two main ranges of heights, so as to bring their fire to bear on the duke's line at a range of about seven hundred yards. By the combined assault of these formidable forces, led on by Ney, "the bravest of the brave," Napoleon hoped to force the left center of the British position, to take La Haye Sainte, and then, pressing forward, to occupy also the farm of Mont St. Jean . He then could cut the mass of Wellington's troops ofi" from their line of retreat upon Brussels, and from their own left, and also completely sever them from any Prussian troops that might be approaching. The columns destined for this great and decisive operation de- scended majestically from the French range of hills, and gained the ridge of the intervening eminence, on which the laatteries that supported them were now ranged. As the columns descended again from the eminence, the seventy -four guns opened over their heads with terrible effect upon the troops of the allies that were stationed on the heights to the left of the Charleroi road. One of the French columns kept to the east, and attacked the extremeleft of the allies; the other three continued to move rapidly forward upon the left center of the allied position. The front line of the allies here was composed of Blyant's brigade of Dutch and Belgi- ans. As the French columns moved up the southward slope of the height on which the Dutch and Belgians stood, and the skirmishers in advance began to open their fire, Blyant's entire brigade turned and fled in disgraceful and disorderly panic; but there were men more worthy of the name behind. The second line of allies here consisted of two brigades of Eng» lish infantry, which had suffered severely at Quatre Bras. But they were under Pincton, and not even Ney himself surpassed in reso- lute bravery that stern and fiery spirit. Pincton brought his two brigades forward, side by side, in a thin two-deep line. Thus joined together, they were not 3,000 strong. With these Pincton had to make head against the three victorious French columns, upwards of four times that strength, and who, encouraged by the easy route of the Dutch and Belgians, now came confidently over the ridge of the hill. The British infantry stood firm ; and as the French halt«d and began to deploy into line; Pincton fteiztd 292 DECISIVE BATTLES. the critical moment; a close and deadly volley was thrown in upon them, and then with a herce hurrah the British dashed in with the bayonet. The French reeled back in confusion; and as they stag- gered down the hill, a brigade of the English cavalry rodo in on them, cutting them down by whole battalions, and taking 2,000 pris- oners. The British cavalry galloped forward and sabred the |artillery-men of Ney's seventy-four advanced guns ; and then cut- ting the traces and the throats of the horses, rendering these guns totally useless to the French throughout the remainder of the day. In the excitement of success, the English cavalry continued to press on, but were charged in their turn, and driven back with severe loss by Milhaud's cuirassiers. This great attack (in repelling which the brave Picton had fallen) had now completely failed ; and, at the same time, a powerful body of French cuirassiers, who were advancing along the right of the Charleroi road, and had been fairly beaten after a close hand-to- hand fight by the heavy cavalry of the English household brigade. Hougoumont was still being assailed, and was successfully resist- ing. Troops were now beginning to appear at the edge of the horison on Napoleon's right, which he too well knew to be Prussian, though he endeavored to pursuade his followers that they were Grouchy's men coming to aid them. It was now about half past three o'clock ; and though Wellington's army had suffered severely by the unremitting cannonade and in the late despei-ate encoun- ter, no part of the British position had been forced. Napoleon next determined to try what effect he could produce on the British center and right by charges of his splendid cavalry, brought on in such force that the duke's cavalry could not check them. Fresh troops were at the same time sent to assail La Haye Sainte and Hougoumont, the possession ofthese posts being the emperor's unceasing object. Squadron after squadron of the French cuiras- siers accordingly ascended the slopes on the duke's right, and rode forward with dauntless courage against the batteries of the British artillery on that part of the field. The artillery-men were driven from their guns, and the cuirassiers cheered loudly at their sup- posed triumph. But the duke had formed his infantry in squares, and the cuirassiers charged in vain against the impenetrable hedges of bayonets, while the fire from the inner ranks of the squares told with terrible effect on their own squadrons. Time after time they rode forward with invariably the same result ; and as they receded from each attack, the British artillery-men rushed forward .rom the center of the squares, where they had taken refuge, and plied their guns on the retiring horsemen. Nearly the whole of Napoleon's magnificent body of heavy cavalry was destroyed in these fruitless attempts upon the British right. But in another part of the field fortune favored him for a time. Donzelot's in- fantry took La Haye Sainte between six and seven o'clock, and the BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 293 means were now given for organizing another formidable attack on the center of the allies. There was no time to be lost: Blucher and Bulow were begin- ning to press upon the French right; as early as five o'clock, Napoleon had been obliged to detach Lobau's infantry and Do- mont's horse to check these new enemies. This was done for a time; but, as large numbers of the Prussians came on the field, they turned Lobau's left, and sent a strong force to seize the vil- lage of Planchenoit, which, it will be remembered, lay in the rear of the French right. Napoleon was now obliged to send his Young Guard to occupy that village, which was accordingly held by them with great gallantry against the reiterated assaults of the Prussian left under Bulow. But the force remaining tinder Napo- leon was now numerically inferior to that under the Duke of Wellington, which he had been assailing throughout the day, without gaining any other advantage than the capture of La Haye Sainte. It is true that, owing to the gross misconduct of the greater part of the Dutch and Belgian troops, the diike was obliged to rely exclusively on his English and German soldiers, and the ranks of these had been fearfully thinned ; but the survivors stood their ground heroically, and still opposed a resolute front to every forward movement of their enemies. Napoleon had then the means of effecting a retreat. His Old Guard had yet taken no part in the action. Under cover of it, he might have withdrawn his shattered forces and retired upon the French frontier. But this would only have given the English and Prussians the oppor- tunity of completing their junction; and he knew that otherarmies were fast coming up to aid them in a march upon Paris, if he should succeed in avoiding an encounter with them, and retreat- ing upon the capital. A victory at Waterloo was his only alterna- tive from utter ruin, and he determined to employ his guard in one bold stroke more to make that victory his own. Between seven and eight o'clock the infantry of the Old Guard was formed into two columns, on the declivity near La Belle Alliance. Ney was placed at their head. Napoleon himself rode forward to a spot by which his veterans were io pass ; and as they approached he raised his arm, and pointed to the position of the allies, as if to tell them that their path lay there. Thf^y answered with loud cries of " Vive I'Empereur ! " and descended the hill from their own side into that " valley of the shadow of death," while their batteries thundered with redoubled vigor over their heads upon the British lino. The line of march of the columns of the Guard was directed between Hougoumont and La Haye Sainte, against the British right center; and at the same time, Donzelot and the French, who laad possession of La Haye Sainte, commenced a fierce attack upon the British center, a little more to its left. This part of the battle has drawn less attention than the celebrated attack of the Old Guard; but it formed the most 294 DECISI VE BA TTLES. perilous crisis for the fillieJ army; and if the Yoiinp( Guard Lad been there to support Donzelot, instead of being engaged with the Prussians at Planchenoit, the consequences to the allies in that part of the field must have been most serious. The French tirail- leurs, who were posted in clouds in La Haye Sainte, and the shel- tered spots near it, completely disabled the artillery-men of the English batteries near them; and, taking advantage of the crippled state of the English guns, the French brought some field-pieces up to La Haye Sainte, and commenced firing grape from them on the infantry of the allies, at a distance of not more than a hundred paces. The allied infantry here consisted of some German bri- gades, who were formed in squares, at it was believed that Don- zelot had cavalry ready behind La Haye Sainte to charge them with, if they left that order of formation. In this state the Ger- mans remained for some time with heroic fortitude, though the grape-shot was tearing gaps in their ranks, and the side of one square was literally blown away by one tremendous volley which the French gunners poured into it. The Prince of Orange in vain endeavored to lead some Nassau troops to their aid. The Nassauers would not or could not face the French; and some battalions of Brunswickers, whom the Duke of Wellington had or- dered up as a re-enforcement, at first fell back, until the duke in person rallied them and led them on. The duke then galloped oft" to the right to head his men who were exposed to the attack of the Imperial Guard. He had saved one part of his center from being routed; but the French had gained ground here, and the pressure on the allied line was severe, until it was relieved by the decisive success which the British in the right center achieved over the columns of the Guard. The British troops on the crest of that part of the position, which the iirst column of Napoleon's Guards assailed, were Mait- land's brigade of British Guards, having Adam's brigade on their right. Maitland's men were lying down, in order to avoid, as far as possible, the destructive effect of the French artilleiy, which kept up an unremitting fire from the opposite heights, until the first column of the Imperial Guard had advanced so far up the slope toward the British position that any farther firing of the French artillery-men would endanger their own comrades. Mean- while, the British guns were not idle; but shot and shell plowed fast through the ranks of the stately array of veterans that still moved imposingly on. Several of the French superior officers were at its head. Ney's horse was shot under him, but he still led the way on foot, sword in hand. The front of the massy column now was on the ridge of the hill. To their surprise, they saw no troops before them. All they could discern through the smoke was a small band of mounted officers. One of them was the duke himself. The French advanced to about fifty yards from where the British Guards were lying down, when the voice BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 295 of one of the band of British officers was heard calling, as if to the ground before him, "Up, Guards, and at them ! " It was the duke who gave the order; and at the words, as if by magic, up started before them a line of the British Guards four deep, and in the most compact and perfect order. They poured an instantaneous volley upon the head of the French column, by which no less than three hundred of those chosen veterans are said to have fallen. The French officers rushed forward, and, conspicuous in front of their men, attempted to deploy them info a more extended line, so as to enable them to reply with effect to the British lire. But Maitland's brigade kept showering in volley after volley with deadly rapidity. The decimated column grew disordered in its vain efforts to expand itself into more efficient formation. The right word was given at the right moment to the British for the bayonet-charge, and the brigade sprang forward with a loud cheer against their dismayed antagonists. In an instant the compact mass of the French spread out in a rabble, and they fled back down the hill pursued by Maitland's men, who, however, returned to their position in time to take part in the repulse of the second column of the Imperial Guard. This column also advanced with great spirit and firmness un- der the cannonade which was opened on it, and passing by the eastern wall of Hougoumont, diverged slightly to the right as it moved up the slope toward the British position, so as to approach the same spot where the first column had surmounted the height and been defeated. This enabled the British regiments of Adam's brigade to form a line parallel to the left flank of the French column, so that while the front of this column of French Guards had to encounter the cannonade of the British batteries, and the musketry of Maitland's Guards, its left flank was assailed with a destructive fire by a four-deep body of British infantry, extending all along it. In such a position, all the bravery and skill of the French veterans were vain. The second column, like its predecessor, broke and fled, taking at first a lateral direc- tion along the front of the British line toward the rear of La Haye Sainte, and so becoming blended with the divisions of French infantry, which, under Donzelot, had been pressing the allies so severely in that quarter. The sight of the Old Guard broken and in flight checked the ardor which Donzelofs troops had hitherto displayed. They, too, began to waver. Adam's victorious brigade was pressing after the flying Quai-d, and now cleared away the assailants of the allied center. But the battle was not yet won. Napoleon had still some battalions in reserve near La Belle Alliance. He was rajndly rallying the remains of the first column of his Guards, and he had collected into one body the remnants of the various corps of cavalry, which had suffered so severely in the earlier part of the day. The duke instantly formed the bold resolution of now himself becoming the assail int, 296 -D^ -IS/VE BATTLES. and leading his successful though enfeebled army forward, while the disheartening effect of the repulse of the Imperial Guard on the French army was still strong, and before Napoleon and Ney coiild rally the beaten veterans themselves for another and a fiercer charge. As the close approach of the Prussians now com- pletely protected the duke's left, he had drawn some reserves of horse from that quarter, and he had a brigade of Hussars under Vivian fresh and ready at hand. Without a moment's hesitation he launched these against the cavalry near La Belle A.lliance. The charge was as successful as it was daring; and there was now no hostil J cavalry to check the British infantry in a forward movement, the duke gave the long wished-for command for a general advance of the army along the whole line wpon the foe. It was now past eight o'clock, and for nine deadly hours had the British and Ger- man regiments stood unflinching under the fire of artillery, the charge of cavalry, and every variety of assault that the compact col- umns or the scattered trialleurs of the enemy's infantry could inflict. As they joyously sprang forward against the discomfited masses of the French, the setting sun broke through the clouds which had obscured the sky during the greater part of the day, and glittered on the bayonets of the allies while they in turn poured down the valley and toward the heights that were held by the foe. Almost the whole of the French host was now in irretrievable confusion. The Prussian army was coming more and more rapidly forward on their right, and the Young Guard, which hatl held Planchenoit so bravely, was at last compelled to give way. Some regiments of the Old Guard in vain endeavored to form in squares. They were swept away to the rear; and then Napoleon himself fled from the last of his many fields, to become in a few weeks a captive and an exile. The battle was lost by France i^ast all recovery. The vic- torious armies of England and Prussia, meeting on the scene of their triumph, continued to press forward and overwhelm every attempt that was made to stem the tide of ruin. The British army, exhausted by its toils and suffering during that dreadful day, did not urge the piirsuit beyond the heights which the enemy had occupied. But the Prussians drove the fugitives before them throughout the night. And of the magnificent host which had that morning cheered their emperor in confidentexpectation of victory, very few were ever assembled again in arms. Their loss, both in the field and in the pursuit, was immense; and the greater num- ber of those who escaped dispersed as soon as they crossed the frontier. The army iinder the Duke Wellington lost nearly 15,000 men in killed and wounded on this terrible day of battle. The loss of the Prussian army was nearly 7,00U more. At such a fearful jirice was the deliverance of Europe j^tirchased. On closing our survey of this, the last of the Decisive Battles of tho World, it is pleasing to contrast the year which it signalized BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 297 •with the one that is now passing over our heads. We have not (and long may -we want) the stern excitememt of the struggles of war, and we see no captive Standards of our European neighbors brought in triumph to our shrines. But we witness an infinitely prouder spectacle. We see the banners of every civilized nation waving over the arena of our competition with each other in the arts that minister to our race's support and happiness, and not to its suffer- ing and destruction. 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