THE FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD FIM)M MARATHON TO WATERLOO. BY E. S. CREASY, M.A. PUOFBSSOS OF ANXIKNT AND MODERN HISTORY IN UNIVERSITY COLI,KGh, LOKDOk, I.1.TE FELLOW OF KINO'S C0LLE6B, CAMBRIDOB. AoM few battles, of which a contrary event would have essentially varied the drsmi of the world in all its subsequent scenes. — Hallam. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS. 329 * 331 PEARL PTREET, FRANKLIN SQUAUE- T a E F A C E. )i is ai) honorable characteristic of the spirit of thi^ ago, ihat projects of violence and v/arfare 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 ita members. But even those who look upon the appeal of battle as occasionally unavoidable in international contro- versies, 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 pro- tect itself from imminent and serious injury. For a writ- er, 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 or thousands of human beings stabbed, hewed, or shot each other to death during them, would argue strange weakness or dejjravity of mind. Yet it can not be denied that a fearful and wonderful interest is attached to these scenes of carnage. There is undeni- able greatness in the disciplined courage, and in the lovo of honor, which makes the combatants confront agony and destruction. And the powers of the human intellect are rarely niore strongly displayed than they are in the com- niaailer who regulates, arrays, and wields at his will these masses of armed disputants ; who, cool, yet daring ii (he midst of peril, reflects on all, and provides for all, f vor ready with fresh resources and designs, as the vicis- situdes of the storm of slaugh*;er require. But th.ese qual- kV PREFACE. ities, however high they may appear, are to be found in the basest as well as m the noblest of mankmd. Catil/ne was as brave a soldier as Leonidas, and a iTiuch better of- ficer, 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 eourago in its fall." There are some battles, also, which claim our attention, independently of the moral worth of the combatants, on account of their enduring importance, and by reason v." the practical influence on oar own social and political con- dition, which we can trace up to the results of those en- gagements. They have for us an abiding and actual in- terest, both while we investigate the chain of causes and effects 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 termination. Hallam has admirably expressed this in his remarks on the victory gained by Charles Mar- tel, between Tours and Poictiers, over the invading ^^ar- acens. 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 subse- quent scenes : with Marathon, Arbela, the Metaurus, Cha- lons, and Leipsic." It was the perusal of this note of Hallam's that first led me to the consideration of my pres- ent subject. I certainly differ from that great historian us to the comparative importance of some of the battlet^ which he thus enumerates, and also of some which he omits. It is probable, indeed, that no two historical in- quirers would entirely agree in their lists of the Decisive Battles of the World. DifTorent tninds will naturally vary in the impressions which particular events make on them, and in the degree of interest with which they watch tlie PREFACE 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 ohservatioiii indicate. Those remarks should teach us to watch how the interests of many states are often involved in the col- lisions between a few ; and how the effect of those collis- ii'us is not limited to a single age, hut may give an im- pulse which will sway the fortunes of successive genera- tions 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 measure;: too exclusively by the results. We learn to apply the juster standard of seeing what the circumstances and th( probabilities were that surrounded a statesman or a gen eral at the time when he decided on his plan : we value him, not by his fortune, but by his TrpoaipeaL^, 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. Rut it may be well to premise a few remarks on the neg. ative 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 his- torical importance. t It is not because only a few hund- reds fell in the battle by which Joan of Arc captured the Tourelles and raised the siege of Orleans, that the efleC of that crisis is to be judged ; nor would a full belief in • See Bolingbroke " On the Study and Use of History," vol. ii., p. 497 «f his collected notes. t Polyb., lib. ix., sect. 9. t See Montesquieu, ' Grandeur et Decadence des Romains," p 36. ri PREFACE. the largest number which Eastern h storians state to have been slaughtered in any of the numerous confUcts betweeu A.siatic 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 :!on5ehe Metaurus ; and, on the same principle, the subsequent great battles of the Revolutionary war appear to me infe- rior in their importance to Valmy, which first determined the military character and career of the French Revolu- tion. 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 oc- currence of any kind, that ever occurred, may be said to have been essential in its actual termination to the whole ordei of subsequent events. But when T speak of causes and effects, I speak of the obvious and important agency ol one fact upon another, and not of remote and fancifully PREFACE. vr infinitesimal influences. I am aware that, on the otliei hand, the reproach 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 probabili- t ies, 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 emphatic- ally the wisdom and power of the supreme Lawgiver, thti design of the Designer. Mitre Court Chambers Temple > JuHtte, 1851. ) CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The Battle of Marathon 13 Explanatory Remarks on some of the Circumstances of the Battle (f Marathon 43 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Marathon, B.C, 490, and the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, B.C. 413 45 CHAPTER n. Defeat of the Athe.vians at Syracuse, B.C. 413 48 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse and the Battle of Arbela 67 CHAPTER m. The Battle of Arbela, B.C. 331 69 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Arbela and the Battle of the Metaurus 91 CHAPTER IV. The Battle of the Metaurus, B.C. 207 96 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of the Metaurus, B.C. 207, and Arminius's Victoiy over the Roman Legions under Varus, A.D. 9. .. 123 CHAPTER V. VlCTlRY OF ArMI.VIUS OVER THE ROMAN LeGIONS UNDER VaRCS, A.D. 9 127 Arminius 141 Synopsis of Events between Arminius's Victory over Varus and the Battle of Cho'.ons 1S1 A 2 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER VI The Batti.k of Chalons, A.D 451 153 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Chalons, A.D. 451, and the Battle of Tours, 732 168 CHAPTER Vn. The Battle of Tours, A.D. 732 16!; Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Tours, A.D. 732, and the Bat- tle of Hastings. A.D. 1066 179 CHAPTER Vm. The Battle of Hastings, A.D. 1066 182 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Hastings, A.D. 1066, and loan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, A.D. 1429 214 CHAPTER IX. Joan of Arc's Victory over the English at Orleans, A.D. 1429 218 Synopsis of Events between Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, A.D. 1429, and the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, A.D. 1588 237 CHAPTER X. The Defeat of the Spanish Armada, A.D. 1588 239 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, A.D. 1588, and the Battle of Blenheim, A.D. 1704 263 CHAPTER XI. The Battle of Blenheim, A.D. 1704 265 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Blenheim, A.D. 1704, and the Battle of Pultowa, A.D. 1709 288 CHAPTER XII. The Battle of Pultowa, A.D. 1709 28S Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Pultowa, A.D. 1709, and the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, A.D 1777 SOC CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. /iCTORY OF THE AMERICANS OVKR BuRGOYNE AT SARATOGA, A.D. 1777 305 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of Burgoyue at Saratoga, A.D. 1777, and the Battle of Valmy A.D. 1792 327 CHAPTER XIV. The Battle of Valmy, A.D. 1792 328 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Valmy, A.D. 1792, and the Battle of Waterloo, A.D. 1815 343 CHAPTER XV. Thi Battle or Waterloo, A.D. 1815 34b FIFTEEN DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD. CHAPTER I. THE BATTLE OF MARATHON. " Quibus actus uterque Europae atque Asiae fatis concurrerit orbis." Two thousand three hundred and forty years ago, a couneu of Athenian officers was summoned on the slope of one of the mountains 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 result of theii 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 \N^ar-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 1» BATTLE OF MARATHON. interest the record of their discussions. They saw before them the invading forces of a mighty empire, which had in tltie last fifty years shattered and enslaved nearly all the kingdoms and principahties of the then known world. They knew that all the resources of their own country were comprised in the little army intrusted to their guidance. They saw 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, vvluch had dared to aid his rebels and burn the capital of one of his provinces. That victorious 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 m the last few days ; and the Athenian generals could discern from the heights the island of JEgilia, in which the Persians had depos- ited their Eretrian prisoners, whom they had resen-^ed 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 ty rant, 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 en- gaged, but there are sufficient data for our making a general es- timate. Every free Greek was trained to military duty ; and, from the incessant 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 ])oorer portion of these were unprovided wuth thn equijmiente, and untrained to the operations of the regular in- fantry. Some detachments of the best-armed troops M'oidd be required to garrison the city itself and man the various fortifiecf posts in the territory ; so that it is impossible to reckon the fully equipped force that marched from Athens to Marathop whec BATTLEOFMARATHON. l.*! the uews of the Persian landing arrived, at higher than ten ihuu- Band men-^**" Witt, one exception, the other Greeks held back from aidinp th(xn. Sparta hud promised assistance, bnt 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 full From one quarter only, and that from a most unexpected 0113, did Athens receive aid at the morient of her great peril. Some years before this time the little state of Plata;a in Bo,- jlia, 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 parta of the earth to destroy Athens, the brave Platseans, unsolicited, marched with their whole force to assist the defense, and tc share the fortunes of their benefactors. The general levy of the Plataeans only amounted to a thousand men ; and this little col- umn, marching from their city along the southern ridge of Mount Cithajron, and thence across the Attic territory, joined the Athe- nian forces above Marathon almost immediately before the bat- tle. The re-enforcement was numerically small, but the gallant spirit of the men who composed it must have made it of ten-fold value to the Athenians ; and its presence 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. t * The historians, who lived long after the time of the battle, such as Justin, Plutarch, and others, give ten thousand as the number of the Athenian army. Not much reliance 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. i., p. 45. Some Me ToiKu probably served as Hoplites at Marathon, but the number of resi- dent aliens at Athens can not have been large at this period. t Mr. Groie observes (vol. iv., p. 464) that "this volunteer march of the R'hole Platffian force to Marathon is one of the most affecting incidents of all Giecian history." In truth, the whole career of PlatEca, and the friendship, strong, even unto death, between her and Athens, form one of the most affecting episodes in the history of antiquity. In the Pelopon- nesian war the Platsans again were true to the Athenians against all risks, and all calculation of self-interest ; and the destruction of PhUaea was the consequence There are few nobler passages in the classics than the It- 3AliLE OF MARA1H0N. This generous daring of their weak but true-hearted ally was nuver forgottea at Athens. The Plataeans were made the civil fellow-countrymen of the Athenians, except the right of exercis- ing certain political functions ; and from that time forth, in the solemn sacrifices at Athens, the pubhc prayers were offered up for a joint blessing from Heaven upon the Athenians, and the Plataeans also. After the junction of the column from Platsea, the Atheniac commanders must have had under them about eleven thousand fully-armed and disciplined infantry, and probably a larger num- ber of irregular light-armed troops ; as, besides the poorer citi- zens who went to the field armed with javelins, cutlasses, and targets, each regular heavy-armed solditr was attended in the camp by one or more slaves, who were armed like the inferior freemen.* 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. Contrasted with their own scanty forces, the Greek command- ers saw stretched before them, along 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 diffi- culty 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 hundred thousand the force which on this occasion had Bailed, under the satraps Datis and Artaphernes, from the Cili- cian shores against the devoted coasts of Euboea and Attica. And after largely deducting from this total, so as to allow for mere mariners and camp followers, 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 conflicts ■with Asiatics ; as, for in- Btance, in the after struggles between Greece and Persia, or when ■peech in which the Platffian prisoners ot war, after the memorable siege of their cit)', justify beforo their Spartan executioners their loyal adherence to Athens. See Thucyf'iides, lib. iii., sees. 63-60. * A : the battle of Plataa, eleven years after Marathon, each of the eight thousaad Athenian regular infantry who served them was attended by i Jight-armed slave.— Herod., lib. viii., c. 28, 29. n A T I L E O F M A R A T II O N. 17 i]\c \\{>\n\in legions encountered the myriads of Mithradates and Tijiianes, or as is the case in the Indian campaigns of our owa rt'giments. 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 spirits before the apparently resistless career of the Per- sian arms.* It is, therefore, little to be wondered at, that five of the ten Athenian generals shrank from the prospect of fight- ing a pitched battle against an enemy so superior in numbers and so formidable in military renown. Their own position on tlie heights was strong, and ofi^ered 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, overAvhelmed 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 ? Specious as these reasons might appear, the other five gener als 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 charac- ter, 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 jEacidae among his ancestry, and the blood of Achilles flowed in the veins of the hero of Marathon. One of his immediate ancestors had acquired the dominion of the Thra- * 'Adrjvaloi irpuTot dviaxovTO eadJJTa, re M.r)6iKTiv ipiuvre^, Koi rohg uvdpai lavTTjv kaBrifiivov^- reur 6e fiv rolai 'EAXj/ffi Koi to ovvofia tuv Mrjduv ^66oi i^ovaat. — Herodotus, lib. vi., c. 112. A2 de yvuf^ai 6edov?.ufievai dndvTuv avdpu-juv fjaav ovtu Ttj/lAd Kal /ufyuAa ai fiaxil^9 yevt] KaradedovXuiievi] ^v tj Uepauv apxfi- — Pi.ato, Menexenut 18 BATTLE OF MARA no . cian Chersonese, and thus the family became at the same tine Athenian citizens and Thracian princes. This occurred at the time when Pisistratus was tyrant of Athens. Two of the rela- tives of Miltiades — an uncle of the same name, and a brother named Stesagoras — had ruled the Chersonese before Miltiades became its prince. He had been brought up at Athens in the house of his father, Cimon,* who was renowned throughout (j recce for his victories in the Olympic chariot-races, and wlo must have been possessed of great wealth. The sons of Pisis- tratus, who succeeded their father in the tyranny at Athens, caused Cimon to be assassinated ;t but they treated the young Miltiades with favor and kindness, and when his brother Stesag- oras 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 lecorded 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- Bonebe, hearing of this, assembled from all the towns and dis- tricts, and went together to the house of Miltiades, on a visit of condolence. As soon as he had thus got them in his power, he made them all prisoners. He then asserted and maintained hie own absolute authority in the peninsula, taking into his pay a body of fivr3 hundred regular troops, and strengthening his inter- est 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 army, in the expedition against Scythia. Miltiades ard the vassal Greeks of Asia Minor were left by the Persian kii.if in charge of the bridge across the Danube, when the invading army crossed that river, and plunged into the wilds of the country that aow is Russia, in vain pursuit of the ancestors of the modeir • Herodotus, lib. vi., c. 108. t lb. BATTLE OF MARATHON. 13 Cossa( ks. On learning the reverses that Darius met with in the Scythian wilderness, Miltiadcs 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, ""^ut it was known what advice Miltiades had given, and the vengeance of Darius waa thenceforth specially directed against the man who had counsel- ed Buch a deadly blow against his empire and his person. The occupation of the Persian arms in other quai'ters left Miltiades for some years after this in possession of the Chersonese ; but it was precarious and interrupted. 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 Lemnoa 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 Persians left their armies and fleets at liberty tc act against the enemies of the Great King to the west of the Hellespont. A strong squadron of Phoenician galleys was sent against the Chersonese. Miltiades knew that resistance was hopeless ; and while the Phoenicians were at Tenedos, he loaded five galleys with all the treasure that he could collect, and sdii cd away for Athens. The Phamicians fell in with him, and chased him hard along the north of the jEgean. One of his gal- leys, on board of which was his eldest son Metiochus, was actu- ally captured. But Miltiades, with the other four, succeeded in reaching the friendly coast of Imbros in safety. Thence he aft- erward proceeded to Athens, and resumed his station as a free r.itizen 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-rccoveied liberty and equality ; and 'he constitutional changes of Cleisthenes had inflamed their re- f 'iblicau 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 ■Jhersonese The ch arge did not necessarily import any acts of iO BATTLE OF MARATHON. Tut'Ity or wrong to individuals : it was founded on no spocifia law ; but it was based on the horror with which the Greeks of that age regarded every man who made himself arbitrary mas- ter of his fellow-men, and exercised irresponsible dominion over tlieni. The fact of Miltiades having so ruled in the Chersonese was undeniable ; but the question "^hich the Athenians assem- bled in judgment must have tried, was whether Miltiades, al- though tyrant of the Chersonese, deserved punishment as an Athenian citizen. The eminent service that he had done the state in conquering Lemnos and Imbros for it, pleaded strongly in his favor. The people refused to convict him. He stood high in public opinion. And when the coming invasion of the Per- sians 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 Salamis. The other was Aristides, who after- ward led the Athenian 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 council of Avar 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 circumspect, he was neither timid as a soldier nor as a politician, and the bold advice of Miltiades may probably have found in Aristides a wilhng. most assuredly it found in him a candid hearer. * See the character of Themistocles in the 138th section of the firs book of Thucydides, especially the last sentence. Kal to ^vfxnav dntiv ^vaeu^ /lEV dvvduei ut If-rryf de ^paxirTjTi KpaTLOToq drj ovto( avro(T^t()ia^(« tfj 6iovra iyevero. BATTLK JF MAllATHON. 21 Miltiades felt no hesitation as to the course which the Athe Qian army ought to pursue ; and earnestly did he press his opin- ion on his brother-generals. Practically acquainted with tlie or- ganization 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 po eition of the forces gave him for a sudden attack, and as a pro found 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 Callimachus, 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 iin. 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 erans of Marathon, the great Athenian thus adjured his country- men to vote for giving battle. " It now rests with you, Callimachus, either to enslave Athens, or, by assuring her freedom, to win yourself an immortality of fame, such as not even Harmodius and Aristogeiton have acquired; for never, since the Athenians were a people, were they in such danger as they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to these Medes, they arc to be given up to Hippias, and you know what they then will have to sufler. 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 intrigue will disunite the Athenians, and the city will be betrayed to the Medes. But if we fight, before there is any thing 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 en- gagement."* • Herodotus, lib. vi., sec. 109. The 116lh section is to my mind cleai proof tbat Herodotus had personally conversed with Epizelus, 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 an* generals are generally inventions of their own ; but part of this speech oi Miltiades bears internal evidence of authenticity. Su-^h is the case will C3 B A T T L E O F M A R A T II O N The vote of the biave War-ruler was gained ; the council determined to give battle ; and such vi'as the ascendency and acknowledged 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-opera foT of all parts of his small army, Miltiades waited till the daj wain the chief command would have come round to him in reg- ulai 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 tliem, and they and he were aware of their chance of a bloodless conquest through the machinations of his partisans among the Athenians The nature of the ground also explains in many points the tac- tics of the opposite generals before the battle, as well as the op- erations of the troops during the engagement, The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty-two miles dis tant from Athens, lies along the bay of the same name on the northeastern coast of Attica. The plain is nearly in the form of a crescent, and about six miles in length. It is about two miles broad in the centre, where the space between the mount- ains and the sea is greatest, but it narrows toward either ex- tremity, 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 south- ward. 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 every where 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 ftre marshes at each end, which are dry in spring and summer, arid then ofl'er no obstruction ^o the horseman, but are common Iht remarkable expression yv 6i ^v/i6uXu/j.cv nplv tl Kal anOpov Wdr]vaiu> tUtt^tTEpniai kyyeveadat, i^twv tu laa vsfiovTa^v, oloi re et/2ev irepiyevendai rg av/iio'iy. 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 Miltiades ; and it is an expression which, if uaoc' by bim. would he sure to be remembered and reoeated by his hrarers. BATTLE OF MARA"'UON. 23 ly 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 pDwer of giving battle whenever he p eased, or of delaying it at his discretion, unless Datis weie to attempt the perilous operation of storming the heights. If we turn to the map of the Old "World, to test the compar- ative 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 republic 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 tmies. Its antagonist, the Persian empire, comprised the M'hole of modern Asiatic and much of modern European Turkey, the modern kingdom of Persia, and the coun tries of modern Georgia, Armenia, Balkh, the Punjaub, Afghan- istan, Beloochistan, Egypt, and Tripoli. Nor could a European, in the beginning of the fifth century before our era, look upon this huge accumulation of power be- neath the sceptre of a single Asiatic ruler with the indifference with which we now observe on the map the extensive domin- ions of modern Oriental sovereigns ; for, as has been already re- marked, before Marathon was fought, the prestige of success and of supposed 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 inhabit ants of the rest of the world having emerged from the rudest barbarism, we can perceive that mighty and brilliant empires flourished in the Asiatic continent. They appear before ui through the twilight of primeval history, 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 institutions and fortunes of Euro- pean states ever since the commencement of the civilization of our continent, a monotonous uniformity pervades the liistories of 2i CATTLE OF MASi-THON. nearly all Oriental empires, from the most ancient down to the most recent times. They are characterized by the rapidity of their early conquests, by the immense extent of the dominions comprised in them, by the establishment of a satrap or pashafl system of governing the provinces, by an invariable and speedy degeneracy in the princes of the royal house, the effeminate nurslings of the seraglio succeeding to the warrior sovereigns reared in the camp, and by the internal anarchy and insnrr'_c tions which indicate and accelerate the decline and fall of these unwieldy and ill-organized fabrics of power. It is also a strik ing fact that the governments of all the great Asiatic empires have in all ages been absolute despotisms. And Heeren is right in connecting this v>ith another great fact, which is important from its influence boih on the political and the social life of Asi atics. " Among all the considerable nations of Inner Asia, the paternal government of every household was corrupted by polyg- amy : where that custom exists, a good political 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 dependents in their domestic economy." We should bear in mind, also, the inseparable con- nection between the state religion and all legislation which has always prevailed in the East, and the constant existence of a powerful sacerdotal body, exercising some check, though preca rlous and irregular, over the throne itself, grasping at all civil administration, claiming the supreme control of education, stere- otyping the lines in which literature and science must move, am] limiting the extent to which it shall be lawful for the humaa mind to prosecute its inquiries. With these general characteristics rightly felt and understood, it becomes a comparatively easy task to investigate and appre- ciate the origin, progress, and principles of Oriental empires in general, 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 judge of the pioba ble consequences to human civilization, if the Persians had suo ceeded in bringing 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 B A T T L E O F M A R A T II O N. 'Z6 ural van-ga;ird of European liberty against Persian ambition; and they i)re-eminenlly displayed the salient points of distinctive national character which have rendered European civjiization so far superior to Asiatic. The nations that dwelt in ancient times around and near the northern shores of the Mediterranean Sea, tvere the first in our continent to receive from the East the ru- diments of art and literature, and the germs of social and polit- ical organizations. Of these nations the Greeks, through their vicinity to Asia Minoi", Phoenicia, and Egypt, were among tiie very foremost in acquiring the principles and habits of civilized hfe ; and they also at once imparted a new and wholly original stamp on all which they received. Thus, in their i-eligion, they received from foreign settlers the names of all their deities and many of their rites, but they discarded the loathsome monstrosi- ties of the Nile, the Orontes, and the Ganges ; they Hcitionalized their creed ; and their own poets created their beautiful naythol- ogy. No sacerdotal caste ever existed in Greece. So, in the\ governments, they lived long under hereditary kings, but never endured the permanent establishment of absolute monarchy Their early kings were constitutional rulers, governing with de- fined prerogatives.* And long before the Persian invasion, the kingly form of government had given way in almost all the Greek states to republican institutions, presenting infinite varie- ties of the blending or the alternate predominance of the oli- garchical and democratical principles, [n literature and science v.he Greek intellect followed no beaten track, and acknowledged no limitary rules. The Greeks thougVit their subjects boldly out ; r ud the novelty of a speculation invested it in their minds with interest, and not with criminality. Versatile, restless, enterpris- ing, and self-confident, the Greeks presented the most striking contrast to the habitual quietude and submissiveness of the Ori- entals ; and, of all the Greeks, the Athenians exhibited these na- tional characteristics in the strongest degree. This spirit of ac- tivity and daring, joined to a generous sympathy for the fate of Iheir fellow-Greeks in Asia, had led them to join in the list Ionian war; and now mingling with their abhorrence of the usurping family of their own citizens, which for a period had for- cibly seized on and exercised despotic power at Athens, nerved t)iem to defy the wrath of King Darius, and to refuse to receive • "Ettj fitjToFi yepaai noTpiKal ^aaLXelai. — Thtcyd Ub. i sec. 12 B <26 iATTLE OF MARATHON. back at his bidding the tyrant whom they had aome years h» fore 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 a1 Marathon. Inscriptions in a character termed the Arrow-headod, 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 places formerly ruled over by the early Persian kings. But for thousands of years they had been mere unintelligible enigmas to the curious but baffled beholder ; and they were often referred to as instances of the folly of human pride, which could indeed write its own praises in th^^ solid rock, but only for the rock to outlive the language as well as the memory of the vainglorious inscribers. The elder Niebuhr, Grotefend, and Lassen, had made some guesses at the meaning of the Cuneiform letters ; but Major Rawlinson, of the East In- dia Company's service, after years of labor, has at last accom- plished the glorious achievement of fully revealing the alphabet and the grammar of this k»ng unknown tongue. He has, in par- ticular, fully deciphered and expounded the inscription on tho sacred rock of Behistun, on the western frontiers of Media. These records of the Acliffimenidtc have at length found theii interpreter ; and Darius himself speaks to us from the corise crated mountain, and tells us the names of the nations that obey ed him, the revolts that he suppressed, his victories, his piety, and his glory.* Kings who thus seek the admiration of posterity are little likelj, M> dim the record of their successes by the mention of their oc- casional defeats ; and it throws no suspicion on the narrative of the Greek historians that we find these inscriptions silent respect- ing the overthrow of Datis and Artaphernes, as well as respect" ing the reverses which Darius sustained in person during hij Scythian campaigns. But these indi&putable monuments of Per- sian fame confirm, and even increase the opinion with which Herodotus inspires us of the vast power which Cyrus founded and Cambyses increased ; which Darius augmented by Indian and Arabian conquests, and seemed likely, when he directed his arms against Europe, to make the predominant monarchy of the world ♦ See the tenth volume of the "Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society ' BATTLE OF MARATHON. JS*"/ With the exception of the Chinese empire, in which, through- nut all ages down to the last few years, one third of the human race has dwelt almost unconnected with the other portions, all the great kingdoms, which wc know to have existed in ancient Ae'in, were, in Darius's time, blended into the Persian. The northern Indians, the Assyrians, the Syrians, the Babylonians, llie Clialdees, the Phoenicians, the nations of Palestine, the Ar- menians, the Bactrians, the Lydians, the J hrygians, the Parthians, and the Medes, all obeyed the sceptre of the Great King : the Medes standing next to the native Persians in honor, and the empire being frequently spoken of as that of the Medes, or a?, that of the Medes and Persians. Egypt and Cyrene were Per- sian provinces ; the Greek colonists in Asia Minor and the isl- ands of the JEgjean were Darius's subjects ; and their gallant but unsuccessful attempts to throw off the Persian yoke had only served to rivet it more strongly, and to increase the general be- hef that the Greeks could not stand before the Persians in a field of battle. Darius's Scythian war, though unsuccessful in its im mediate object, had brought about the subjugation of Thrace and the submission of Macedonia. From the Indus to the Peneus, all was his. AYe may imagine the wTath with which the lord of so many nations must have heard, nine years before the battle of Mara- thon, that a strange nation toward the setting sun, called the Athenians, had dared to help his rebels in Ionia against him, and that they had plundered and burned the capital of one of his provinces. Before the burning of Sardis, Darius seems never to have heard of the existence of Athens ; but his satraps in Asia Minor had for some time seen, Athenian refugees at their provin cial courts imploring assistance against their fellow-countrymen. When Hippias was driven away from Athens, and the tyrannic dynasty of the Pisistratidffi finally overthrown in 510 B.C., the banished tyrant and his adherents, after vainly seeking to be r*!- storei by Spartan intervention, had betaken themselves to Sar dis. the capital city of the satrapy of Artaphernes. There Hip- pias (in the expressive words of Herodotus*) began every kind of agitation, slandering the Athenians before Artaphernes, ?,nd doing all he could to induce the satrap to place Athens in sub- jeotion to him, as the tributary vassal of King Darius. Wlien • Herod., lib v. c. 96 as BATTLE OF MARATHON. the Athenians heard of his practices, they sent envoys to feardia to remonstrate with the Persians against taking up the q.iarreJ of the Athenian refugees. But Artaphernes gave them in reply a menacing command to receive Hippias hack again if they looked for safety. The Athe- nians were resolved not to purchase safety at such a price, and after rejecting the satrap's terms, they considered that they and the Persians were declared enemies. At this very crisis the Io- nian Greeks implored the assistance of their European brethren, tc enable them to recover their ir.dependence from Persia. Atheuf , and the city of Eretria in Euboea, alone consented. Twenty Athenian galleys, and five Eretrian, crossed the JEgBean Sea, ai d by a bold and sudden march upon Sardis, the Athenians and their allies succeeded in capturing the capital city of the haugh ty satrap, who had recently menaced them with servitude or de- struction. 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 nar- rative of Heiodotus, the wrath of the Great King is thus de- scribed : " 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 loniaus, well knowing who they were, and that tlieir revolt would soon be put down ; but he asked who, and \\ hat manner of men, the Athenians were. And when he had teen told, he «alled for his bow ; and, having taken it, and placed ri'a ariow on the string, he let the arrow fly toward heaven ; and a.s he shot it into the air, he said, ' Oh ! supreme God, grant me that I may avenge myself on the Athenians.' And whv.n he ha J eaid this, he appointed one of his servants to say to him eveJ"y •lay as he sat at meat, ' Sire, remember the Athenians.' " Some years were occupied in the complete reduction of Ionia. But when this was edecied, Darius ordered his victorious forces to proceed to punish Athens and Eretria, and to conquer Eurc- p3an Greece. The' first armament sent for this purpose wae «hattered by shipwreck, and nearly destroyed off Mount Athos. But the purpose of King Darius was not easily shaken. A larger army was onlered to be collected in Cilicia, and requisitions were Mnt W all the mar'time cities r^ die Persian empire for ships of BATTL'E OF MAR4THON. 2J war, and for transports of sulTicient size for carrying cavalry as well as infuntry across the Mga-.im. Wliiio these preparaticius were being made, Darius sent heralds round to the Grecian cities demanding their submission to Persia. It was proclaimed in the market-place of each little Hellenic state (some with teriilories not larger than the Isle of Wight), that King Darius, the lord Df all men, from the rising to the setting sun,* required earth an:l water to be delivered to his heralds, as a symbolical ac- kiK wJedgment that he was head and master of the country. Terror-stricken at the power of Persia and at the severe punish- ment that had recently been inflicted on the refractory lonians, many of the continental Greeks and nearly all the islanders sub- mitted, and gave the required tokens of vassalage. At Sparta and Athens an indignant refusal was returned — a refusal which was disgraced by outrage and 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. Thu real supreme authority was probably given to Datis alone, iron the way in which the Greek writers speak of him. We ;.inow no details of the previous career of this officer ; but there is ev- ery reason to believe that his al)ilitie8 and bravery had beer. pro^ ed by experience, or his Median birth would have pre'v onted his being placed in high command by Darius. He appiars tc have been the first Mode who was thus trusted by the I/rsiat kings after the overthrow of the conspiracy of the Median magi • .^schines in Ctes., p. .522, ed. Ileiske. Miifoid. vol. i , p. 485. /Es- chines is speaking of Xerxes, Iml Miifonl is probably right in cuny Jeririg- it ;:s ihe style of the Persian kinffs in their proclaniaiiins. In on- .if tie insnriptiuns at Persepulis. Darius terms himself'- Darius, the grir^\ king, king of kings, the king of the many-penpleil countries, the suppor'er iijsi; of this great worlil." In another, he styles himself "the king of all in- habited countries." (See "Asiatic Journal," vol. x., p. 287 and :i92, and Major Rawlinson's Comments.) 30 EATTLEOF MARAT HON against the Persians immedialelj' before Darius obtained tht. throne. Diitis received iustructions to complete the subjugation of Greece, and especial orders were given him with regard to Eretria and Athens. He Avas 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 JEgsean 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 offer 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 iht coast of Euboea. The little town of Carystus essayed resislance, but was quickly overpowered. He next attacked Eretria. The Athenians sent four thousand men to its aid ; but treachery was at work among the Eretrians ; 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 ^gilia, to wait there till Datis should bring the Athenians to join them in captivity, when both populations were to bi led into Upper Asia, there to learn their doom from the lips of King Darius himself. Flushed with success, and with half his mission thus atcom- Dlislied, Datis re-embarked his troops, and, crossing the little channel that separates Euboea f lom the main land, he encamped his troops on the Attic coast at Marathon, drawing up his gal- leys on the sh jiving beach, as was the custom with the navies cf antiquity The conquered islands behind him sere Balkan, divides Northern from Southern Europe, we shall find nothing at that period but mere sa-^ age Finns, Celts, Slaves, and Teutons. Had Persia beaten Athens at Marathon, she could have found no ob- stacle to prevent Darius, the chosen servant of Orrnuzd, from advancing his sway over all the known Western races of man- kind./XThe infant energies of Europe would have been trodden out beneath universal conquest, and the history of the world, Jke the history of Asia, have become a mere record of the rise and fall of despotic dynasties, of the incursions of barbarouf hordes, and of the mental and political prostration of millioni beneath the diadem, the tiara, and the sword. [^ Great as the preponderance of the Persian over the Athenian power at that crisis seems to have been, it would be unjust to impute A^ild 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 suc- cessful 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 Kur- distan, 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 causa of their masters. He had also the sagacity and the spirit to appreciate the superiority of the Greek armor anl organizalion over the Asiatic, notwithstanding former reverses. Above all he felt and worthily trusted the enthusiasm of those '.vhoin he led. The Atheuians whom he led had proved by their new-horu va) W '0 recent wars ag'iinst the neighboring slates that " liberty am BATTLE OF MARATHON 33 equality of civic rights are brave spirit-stirring things , and they who, while under the yoke oi" a despot, had been no better nieu ?f war than any of their neighbors, as soon as they were free bet aine the foremost men of all ; lor 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." Sc (ho nearly contemporaneous historian describes the change of tpirit that was seen in the Athenians alter their tyrants were expelled;* and Miltiades knew that in leading them against the invading army, where they had Hippias, the foe they most hated, before them, he was bringing into battle no ordinary men, and could calculate on no ordinary heroism. As for traitors, he was sure, that whatever treachery might lurk among some of the highei'-born and wealthier Athenians, the rank and file 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 com- bine against the common foe ; and that the latent seeds of revolt and disunion in the Persian empire would soon burst forth and paralyze 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 con- nected with those mountain heights which were calculated pow- erfully to excite the spirits of the men, and of which the com manders well knew how to avail themselves in their exhorta- tions to their troops before the encounter. Marathon itself was * 'AOijvutot jiiv vvv r]v^i]vro- drj^.oi de oil Kar' ev fiovov (Mitt TiavTa\r/ q 'laijyopit] (Jf ia-i XPW^^ a:Tnv6aiov, ei Kai 'Aflrjvnlui rvfjavvevofXEVoi /ikv (iV(]a- fiov Tuv aipsa^ nefuoiKsovruv eaav ra nuXi^ia ufieivovc, una/i.AuxdEi'Te^ de rv- (luvvuv fiOK^u TVjjuiToi kyivovxo- 6ij7^ol uv ravra on Karexofievoi /uev ideXoKtl k:ov, jf dtaTTOTTj epya^ofiEvof cT^evdepudivTuv (5e avro^ inaoTog iuvrt^ npodv- ufiTo Karepyui^eadaL. — Herod., lib. v.. c. 87. Mr. Groie"s comment on this is one of the most eloquent and pniJosoph tCal passages in his admirable fourth volume. The expression 'laijynpij] xpwo- anovdaiw is like some hnes in f!.d Bai l»cy '8 i>03m of " The Bruce :" "Ah, Fredome is a noble thing; Fredome makes man to hailTlyking Fredome all solace tu men gives, He lives at ease that freely lives ' B? 54 BATTLE OF MARATHOI*. a region sacred to Hercules. Close to them was the fountain 0/ Macaria, who had in days of yore devoted herseli" to death Ibi the hberty of her people. The very plain on -which they were to fight w.is the scene of the exploits of their national hero, The- Bcus ; and there, too, as old legends told, the Athenians and the Herachdai had routed the invader, Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy myths or idle fictions, but matters of ira- piieit 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 heUeved to he now heavenly powers, looking down with interest on their still beloved country, and capable of inter- |iosing 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 neighbor, friend by friend, and the spirit of emulation and the consciousness of responsibility excited to the very utmost. The V^ar-ruler, Callimachus, had the leading of the right wing; the Platicans formed the extreme left ; and Themistocles and Aristi des commanded the centre. The hne consisted of the heavy armed spearmen only ; for the Greeks (until the time of Iphi crates) 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. The panoply of the regular infantry con sisted- of a long spear, of a shield, helmet, breast-plate, greaves, and short sword. Thus equipped, they usually advanced slowly and steadily into action in a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But the military genius of Miltiadcs led him to deviate on this occasion from the commonplace tactics of his country- \ men. It was essential for him to extend his line so as to cover 1 all the practicable ground, and to secure himself from being out- I flanked and charged in the rear by the Persian horse. This (;x- I tension 'nvolved the weakening of his line. Instead of a unilbrra rfdu-'tion of n.s strength, he determined on detaching principally from his 'jentre, which, from the nature of the ground, would havfc the best opportunities for rallying, if broken ; and on Btrengthaning his wings so as to insure advantage at those points ; an 1 he trusted to his own skill and to his soldiers' dlscipliue for ih'^ inipiovcment of that advantage into decisive victory.*' • It is remarkable that there is no other instance of a Greek general BATTi.EOFMAR.aTHON ^6 III this order, and availing hiinscll' 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 thou- Band infautr}' wliose spears were to decide this crisis in the strug- gle between the European and the Asiatic worlds. The sacri fices by whicli the favor of heaven was sought, and its will con- Bulted, were announced to show propitious omens. The trumpet founded for action, and, chanting the hymn of battle, the little army bore down upon the host of the foe. Then, too, along tho mountain slopes of Marathon must have resounded the mutual exhortation, which ^Eschylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was afterward heard over the waves of Salamis : " On, sons of the G reeks I Strike for the freedom of your country I strike for the freedom of your children and of your wives — for the shrines of your fathers' gods, and for the sepulchres of your sirea All — all are now staked upon the strife." 'i2 Trainee 'E/lA^iwv, Its 'F.'^evdepovre -n-aTpld', eTievdepovTe 6e Uai6ac, yiwaiKac, Qecjv re narpuDv IrJj;, Ofjuac re npoyovuv. Nvv virep •ku.vtoiv ayCiv* Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the phalanx Miltiades brought his men on at a run. They were all trained 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 traverse as rapidly as possible the mile or so of level ground that lay between the mountain foot and the Persian outposts, and so to get his troops into close action before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form, and maneuver against him, or their archers keep him long under fire, and be- fore 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 deviating from the ordinary mode of bringing a phalanx of spearmen into action until the battles of Leuctra and Mantinea, more than a century after Marathon, v.hen Epaininondas introduccil the tactics which Alcx- ar.der the Great in ancient times, and Frederic llie Great in modern tmies, made so fanrotis, of concentrating an overpowering force to bear on smne decisive point of the enemy's line, while he kept back, or, in militar) phrase, refused the weaker part of his own •« Persae," 408 36 Battle OF MARATHON. tain destruction." Tlaey began, however, to prepare to receiVB them, and the Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and place allowed, the varied races who served in their motley ranks Mountaineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, wild horsemen from the steppes of Khorassan, the black archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from the banks of the Indus, the Oxus, the Euplira- tes, and the Nile, made ready against the enemies of the Grpat King, But no national cause inspired them except the division of native Persians ; and in the large host there was no uniformity of language, creed, race, or military system. Still, among thera there were many gallant men, under a veteran general ; they 'were familiarized with victory, and in contemptuous confidence, their infantry, which alone had time to form, awaited the Athe- nian charge. On came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of leveled spears, against which the light targets, the short lancf^s and cimeters of the Orientals, 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 the weight of immbers to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and tactics, and to bear back the shallow line of the Europeans. In the centre, where the native Persians and thf ^acae fought, they succeeded in breaking through the weakened part of the Athenian phalanx ; and the tribes led by Aristides and Theniistocles were, after a brave resistance, driven back ovei the plain, and chased by the Persians up the valley toward the inner country. There the nature of the ground gave the oppor- tunity 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 Platcean officers, instead of pursuing the fugitives, kept their troopii •well in hand, and, wheeling round, they formed the tAVO wings to- gether. Miltiades instantly led them against the Persian centre, A\hich had hitherto been triumphant, but which new fell back, and prcjnred to encounter these new and unexpected assailants Ariel ides and Themistocles renewed the fight with their reorgan- ized troops, and the full force of the Greeks was brought nitc ck se action with the Persian and Sacian divisions of the enemy Dalis's veterans strove hard to keep their ground, and evening* was approaching before the stern encounter was decided. • 'A^' 6/iwf aiTcnofieada ^vv deolq Trpof ianifg. — .Aristoph., Vcsft. lOcJ* BATTLE OF MARATHON. 37 But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, destitute <»< body-armor, and never taught by training to keep the even iron? 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 wcii-arrned Athenian and Platyan spoarmen, all perfectly drilled to peribrm each necessary evolu '.iou in concert, and to preserve a uniform and unwavering line J\ battle. In personal courage and in bodily activity the Per- sians W(!re not interior to their adversaries. Their spirits were liot 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 arrows* over the heads of their comrades, the foremost Persians kept rushing forward, sometimes singly, sometimes in desperate groups of twelve or ten upon the projecting spears of the Greeks, striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring their cimeters and daggers into play.f Bot 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 nerve! them to fight still more fiercely on. At last the previously unvanquished lords of Asia turned theil- backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, striking them down, to the water's edge, J where the invaders were now hastily launch ing their galleys, and seeking to embark and fly. Flushed witL * 'E/iaxofiEod' avTo^c", du/nov o^ivTjv Trf-u/coTef, Sruf uiTjp nap' avdp 't' opyTJg tt/v xt/ivvTiv iadluv 'Ytto 6e T<^p TO^EVjiuTiov ovt vt> ideiv tov ovpavov. Aristoph., Vesper, 1082. t See the description in the 62(1 section o' tiie nintii book of Herodotus of the gallantry shown by the Persian infantr) ajfaiust the Lacedasiiioni- ans at Plala»a. We have no similar detail of the i\a\\\ at Marathon, but wo know 'hat it was long and obstinately contested (see tht 113lh section of ine siy.lh book of Herodotus, and the lines from the Vespa^ already r,\nccd). and the spirit of the Persians must have been even highe» at Mar- atbin lh«n at Piataia. In both battles it wac only the true Pers ani aad Ibe Sacae *ho thowed this valor: the other Asiatics fled like sheep t The flying Mede, his shafiless broken bow ; The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear; Mountains above. Earth's, Ocean's plain below, Death in the front. Destruction in the rear! Such was the scene. — Byron's Childe Harold. "1" T 38 CATTLE OF MARATHON. success, the Atlienians attacked and strove to fire the flt.ut. But here the Asiatics resisted desperately, and the principal loss sus- tained oy the Greeks was in the assault on the ships. Here fell che biave War-ruler Callimachus, the general Stesilaus, and other Athenians of note. Seven galleys were fired ; but the Per- sians succeeded in saving the rest. They pushed oft' from the fatal shore ; but even here the skill of Datis did not desert him, and he sailed round to the vi'estern coast of Attica, in hopes to find the city unprotected, and to gain possession of it from some of the partisans of Hippias. Miltiades, however, saw and coun- teracted his maneuver. Leaving Aristides, and the troops of his tribe, to guard the spoil and the slain, the Athenian commander led his conquering army by a rapid night-march back across the country +o Athens. And when the Persian fleet had doubled the Cape of Sunium and sailed up to the Athenian harbor in the morning, Datis saw arrayed on the heights above the city the troops before whom his men had fled on the precedipg evening. All hope of further conquest in Europe for the time was aban- doned, and the baffled armada returned to the Asiatic, coasts After the battle had been fought, but while the dead bodies were yet on the ground, the promised re-enforcement fmm Sparta arrived. Tm^o thousand Lacedsemonian spearmen, starting im- mediately after the full moon, had marched the hundreci and fifty miles between Athens and Sparta in the wonderfully short time of three days. Though too late to share in the glory oi the ac- tion, they requested to be allowed to march to the battle-field to behold the Medes. They proceeded thither, gazed on the dead bodies of the invaders, and then, praising the Athenians and what they had done, they returned to Lacedaimon. The number of the Persian dead was 6400 ; of the Athenians, 192. The number of the Platteans who fell is not mentioned ; but, as they fought in the part of the army which was not broken, it can not have been large. Tilt apparent disproportion between the losses of the two arm- ies iti not surprising when we remember the armor of tlie Greek spearmen, and the iriipossibility of heavy slaughter being inflict- ed by sword or lance on troops so armed, as long as they kept Hrm in th^ir ranks.* • Milford well icfeis to Ciecy, Poictiers, and Agincourt as inslince* »f Bimilai disparity of loss between the conquerors and the on-juered BATTLE OF M A K A T H O N. 39 The Athenian slain were buried on tlio field of battle. This (\a.s coiitrarj to llie usual custom, according to whicli th( bones of all who fell fighting for their country in each year wt re de- posited in a public sepulchre in the suburb of Athens called the Cerameicus. But it was felt that a distinction ought to be made in the funeral honors paid to the men of Marathon, even as aieir merit had been distinguished over that of all other Athenians A lofty mound was raised on the plain of Marathon, beneath which the remains of the men of Athens who fell in the battle were deposited. Ten columns were erected on the spot, cne for each of the Athenian tribes ; and on the monumental column of each tribe were graven the names of those of its members whose glory it was to have fallen in the great battle of liberation. The antiquarian Pausanias read those names there six hundred years after the time when they were first graven. =* The columns have long perished, but the mound stili marks the spot where the noblest heroes of antiquity, the MapuUcovoiiaxoi, repose. A separate tumulus Avas raised over the bodies of the slain Plataeans, and another over the light-armed slaves who had taken part and had fallen in the battle. t There was also a separate funeral monimient to the general to whoso genius the victory was mainly due. Miltiades did not live long after his achieve- ment at Marathon, but he lived long enough to experience a lamentable reverse of his popularity and succops. As soon as the Persians had quitted the western coasts of *.he ^Egajan, ho. proposed to an assembly of the Athenian people thai ihey should ft out seventy galleys, with a proportionate 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 powers, he would lead it to a land where there waM gold in * Pausanias state.s, with implicit belief, that the battle-field was haunted at night by supernatural beings, and tliat the noise of combatants and the snorting of horses were heard to resound on it. The superstition liaa Burvivfd the change of ereeds, and tiie siiepherds of the neighbor'xtid etill believe that sprctral warriors contend on the plain at midnigiil, and they say that they have heard the shouts of the combatants and the neigh- ing of the steeds. See Grote and Thirlwall. ■f It is probable that the Greek light-armed irregulars were r.rtive ip Ihi; attack on the Persian ships, and it was in t\ is attack thai the Greeks •ufTered their principal loss. 40 U A T r L £ OF M ARa.THO;V. abundiince to he M-on with ease. The Greeks of that time be- Ueved 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 probably thought that the recent victor of Marathon, and former officer of Darius, was about to lead them on a secret expedition against some wealthy and unprotected cities of treasure in the Persian dominions. j?h? armament Avas voted and equipped, and sailed eastward froia Attica, no one hut Miltiades knowing its destination until the Greek isle of Paros was reached, when his true object ap peared. In former years, while connected with the Persians as prince of the Chersonese, Miltiades had been involved in a quar- rel with one of the leading men among the Parians, who had injured his credit and caused some slights to be put upon him at the court of the Persian satrap Hydarnes. The feud had evtr since rankled in the heart of the Athenian chief, and he now attacked Paros for the sake of avenging himself on his ancient enemy. His pretext as general of the Athenians, was, that th<; Parians had aided the amiament of Datis with a war-galley. The Parians pretended to ti"eat about terms of surrender, but used the time which they thus gained in repairing the defective parts of the fortifications of their city, and they then set the Athenians at defiance. So far, says Herodotus, the accounts of all the Greeks agree. But the Parians in after years told also a Avild legend, how a captive priestess of a Parian temple of the Deities of tlie Earth promised IMiltiadcs to give him the means *)f capturing Paros ; how, at her bidding, the Athenian general went alone at night and forced his way into a holy shrine, neai the city gate, but with what purpose it was not known ; how a supernatural awe came over him, and in his flight he fell and frac'-ured his leg ; how an oracle afterward forbade the Parians to punish the sacrilegious and traitorous priestess, " because it was fated that Miltiades should come to an ill end, and she M'as only the instrument to lead hinr, to evil." Such was the tale that Herodotus heard at Paros. Certain it was that Miltiades either dislocated or broke his leg during an unsuccessful siege of ihe city, and returned home in evil plight witli his bafiled anci defeated forces. The indignation of the Athenians was proportionate to the hope ind excitement which his promises had raised. Xanthip' BATTLEOF MARATHON. 4 pas, the head of one of the first famihes in Athens, intli(;1ed hir« before the supreme popular tribunal for the capital ofi'euse of having deceived the people. His guilt was undeniable, and the Atlieuians passed their venlict accordingly. But the recollec- tions of Lcnnios and Marathon, and the siirht of the fallen gen- eral, Avho lay stretched on a couch before them, pleaded ^ucc.ss fully in rnitigntion of punishment, and the sentence was com- muted from deith to a fine of fifty talents. This was paid by his eon, the afterwarl illustrious Cimon, Miltiades dying, soon after the trial, of the injury which he had received at Pares.* * The commnnplace calumnies arrainst the Athenians respecting Milti ades liave l)een well answeved hy Sir Edward Lytton Biilwer in his " llise and Fall of Alliens," and Bishop Thirlwall in the second volume of his " History of Greece ;" hut they have received their most complete refu- tation from Mr. Grote, in the fourth volume of liis History, p 490, et seq., and notes. I quite concur with him that, "lookinjr to the practice of ihe \lhenian dicastery in criminal cases, that fifty talents was ihe minor pen- alty actually proposed hy the defenders of Miltiades themselves as a .suh- stitute for the punishment of death. In those penal cases at Athens where the [uinishment was not fixed heforehand hy the terms ol the law, if tiic person accused was found guilty, it was customary to suhmit to the jurors suhseqiiently and separately the queslion as to amount of punish- ment. First, the accuser named the penalty which he thought suitahle ; next, the accused person w'as called upon to name an amount of penalty for himself, and the jurors were constrained to take their choice between these two, no third gradation of penalty being admissible for considera- tion. Of course, under such circumstances, it was the interest of tht accused party to name, even in his own case, some real and serious pen- alty, something which the jurors might be likely to deem not wholly in- adequate to his crime just proved ; for if he proposed some penalty onlj trifling, he drove them to prefer the heavier sentence recommended by h!s opponent." The stories ol Miltiades having been cast into prison and died there, and of his having been saved from death only by the interpo- siLion of the prytanis of the day, are, I think, ri<;htly rejected by .Mr. Grote as the fictions of alter ages. The silence of Herodotus respecting them is decisive. It is true that Plato, in the Gorgias, says that the Athenians passed a vote to throw Miltiades into the Barathrum, and speaks of the interposition of the prytanis in his favor ; but it is to be remembered that Plato, with all Iris transcendent genius, was (as Niehuhr has termed hinij a very inditferent patriot, who loved to blacken the character of his coun Crj's democratical institutions; and if the fact was that the prytanis, at the trial of Miltiadt s, opposed t le vote of capital punishment, and spoke in favoi of the milder sentence, Plato (m a passage written to show the misfortunes that befell Atheiian statesmen) would readil; exaggerate this fact into t^e story that appears in his text *2 BATTLEOFMaKJTHOX. The melancholy end of Miltiades, after his elevation to such d height of power and glory, must often have been recalled to the minds of the ancient Greeks by the sight of one in part c ilar of the memorials of the great bottle which he won. This was the remarkable statue (minutely described by Pausanias) which the Athenians, in the time of Pericles, caused to be hewn out of a huge block of marble, wliich, it was believed, had been provided by Datis, to form a troph) of the anticipated victory of the Per- sians. Phidias fashioned out of this a colossal image of the god- dess Nemesis, the deity whose peculiar function was to visit the eruberant prosperity both of nations and iudiAaduals with sudden ai d awful reverses. This statue was placed in a temple of the goddess at Rhamirus, about eight miles from Marathon. Ath- ens itself contained numerous memorials of her primary great victory. Panenus, the cousin of Phidias, represented it in fresco on the w^alls of the painted poi'ch ; and, centuries afterward, the figures of Miltiades and Callimachus at the head of the Atheni- ans were conspicuous in the fresco. The tutelary deities were exhibited taking part in the fray. In the back-ground were seen the Phcenicijm galleys, and, nearer to the spectator, the Atheni- ans and the Platseans (distinguished by their leather helmets) were chasing routed Asiatics into the marshes and the sea. The battle Was sculptured also on the Temple of Victory in the Acrop- olis, and even now there may be traced on the frieze the figures of the Persian combatants with their lunar shields, their bows and quivers, their curved cimeters, their loose trowsers, and Phrygian tiaras.* These and oth(!r memorials of Marathon were the produce of the meridian age of Athenian intellectual splendor, of the age of Phidias and Pericles ; for it was not merely by the generation whom the battle liberated from Hippias and the Medes that the transcendent importance of their victory was gratefully recog- nized. Througli the \vhole epoch of her prosperity, thiough the long Olympiads of her decay, through centuries after her fall, Athens looked back on the day of Marathon as the brightest of her national existence. By a natural blending of patriotic pride with grateful piety, the very spirits of the Athenians who fell at Marathon were de- ified bv their countrymen. The inhabitants of the district of * Wordsworth's "Greece," p. 115. U ATTL E OF M » A A THOrr. 43 Miraihiiii paid religious rites to Iheni ; and orators soiemiily in- voked lUoui in their moot impassioned adjurations htiore the as- sembled men of Athens. "Nothing was omitted that could keep alive the remembrance of a deed which had first taught the Athenian peo})lc to know its own strength, by measuring it with the ])o\ver which had subdued the greater part of the known world. The consciousness thus awakened fixed its character, its station, and its destiny ; it was the spring of" its lateu' great ac- tions and ambitious enterprises."* It was not indeed by one defeat, however signal, that the pride dF Persia could be broken, arul her dreams of universal empire dispelled. Ten years afterward she renewed her attempts upon Europe on a grander scale of enterprise, and was repulsed by Greece with greater and reiterated loss. Larger forces and heav- ier slaughter than had been seen at Marathon signalized the con- flicts of Greeks and Persians at Artemisium, Salamis, Plataja, and the Eurymedon. But, mighty and momentous as these battles were, they rank not with Marathon in importance. They orig- inated no new impulse. They turned back no current of fate. They were merely confirmatory of the already existing bias which Marathon had created. The day of Marathon is the critical epoch in the history of the tvi'o nations. It broke forever the spell of Persian invincibility, which had previously paralyzed men's minds. It generated among the Greeks the spirit wall? a body of intriguing malcontents, wlio were eager to pur* ehas<2 a party triumph at the expense of a national disaster. p. 60 DEFEAT OF THE AT JENIANS Famine and faction were the allies on whom besiegers relied The generals of that time trusted to the operation of these siir« confederates as soon as they could establish a complete blockade They rarely ventured on the attempt to storm any fortified post , for the mihtary engines of antiquity were feeble in breaching masonrj' before the improvements which the first Dionysius ef- fected in the mechanics of destruction ; and the hves of speif' men the boldest and most high-trained would, of course, hav€ be«n idly spent in charges against unshattered walls. A city built close to the sea, hke Syracuse, was impregnable, save by the combined operations 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 sufficient armament to menace her with capture and subjection. But in the spring of 414 B.C., the Athe nian navy was mistress of her harbor and the adjacent seas ; an Athenian army had defeated her troops, 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 Epipolee), which, if completed, would have cut the Syracusans off from all succor from the inte- rior of Sicily, and have left them at the mercy of the Athenian generals. The besiegers' Avorks Avere, 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- I'eaguered town. Athens was now staking the flower of her forces, and the ac- cumulated fruits of seventy years of glory, on one bold throw fci the dominion of the Western world. As Napoleon from Mount Cceur de Lion pointed to St. Jean d'Acre, and told his staflMhat the capture of that town wo'uld decide his destiny and would change the face of the world, so the Atheinan oflicers, from tlie heights of" Epipolse, 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 repulsed there, must pause forever from her career of conquest, and sink from an imperial republic into a ruined and subservictnt commu- nity. A.t Marathon, the first in date of the gryat battles of the AT SYR AC USE, 4 1 3 B.C. Oi world, ■we beheld Athens struggling for self-preservation against tlie invading armies of the East. At Syracuse she appears as the anibitious and oppressive invader of others. In her, as in otiier republics of old and of modern times, the same energy that had inspired the most heroic eli()rts in defense of the national iadependence, soon learned to employ itself in daring and uii Eorupulous schemes of self-aggrandizement at the expense ol nsighboring nations. In the interval between the Persian and the Peloponnesian wars she had rapidly grown into a conquering and dominant state, the chief of a thout-and tributary cities, and the mi:-tress of the largest and best-manned navy that the Med- iterranean had yet beheld. The occupations of her territory by Xerxes and Mardonius, in the second Persian war, had forced her whole population to become mariners ; and the glorious re- sults of that struggle confirmed them in their zeal ibr their coun- try's service at sea. The voluntary sufliage of the Greek cities of the coasts and islands of the iEgajan 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 decrepitude and decay, but she exacted in return im- plicit obedience to herself She claimed and enforced a prerog- ative of taxing them at her discretion, and proudly refused to bo accountable for her mode of expending their supplies. Remon- strance agamst her assessments was treated as factious disloy- alty, and refusal to pay was promptly punished as revolt. Per- mitting and encouraging her subject allies to furnish all theii contingents in money, instead of part consisting of ships and men, the sovereign republic gained the double object of training hei own citizens by constant and well-paid service in her fleets, and ■jf seeing her confederates lose their skill and discipline by inac- Inn, and become more and more passive and powerless under her yoke. Their towns were generally dismantled, while the imjierial city herself was fortified with the greatest care and Bumptuousness ; \he accumulated revenues from her iributaries serving to strengthen and adorn to the utmost her havens, her docks, her arsenals, her theatres, and her shrines, and to array her in that plenitude of architectural magnificence, the ruins of •which still attest the intellectual grandeur of the age and peo 62 DEFEAT OF THE iTUENIAWS pie which produced a Pericles to plan and a Plildias lo exft cute All republics that acquire supremacy over other nations rulf them selfishly and oppressively. There is no exception to thi* m either ancient or modern times. Carthage, Rome, Venice, Genoa, Florence, Pisa, HoUand, and Republican France, all t)'r- snnized over every province and subject state where they gained authority. But none of them openly avowed their, sys^m of doing so upon principle wdth the candor which the Athenian ns- pubhcans displayed when any remonstrance was made against the severe exactions 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 terror to uphold it. They appealed to what they called " the eternal law of nature, that the weak should be coerced by the strong."* Sometimes they stated, and not without some truth, that the unjust hatred of Sparta against themselves forced them to be unjust to others m self-defense. To be safe, they must be powerful ; and to be powerful, they must plunder and coerce their neighbors. They never dreamed of communicating any franchise, or share in of- fice, to their dependents, but jealously monopolized every post of command, and all political and judicial power ; exposing themselves to every risk with unflinching gallantry ; embarking readily in every ambitious scheme ; and never sufi^ering difficulty or disaster to shake their tenacity of purpose : in the hope of ac- quiring unbounded empire for their country, and the means of maintaining each of the thirty thousand citizens who made up the sovereign repubhc, in exclusive devotion to military occupa- tions, and to those brilliant sciences and arts in which Athens already had reached the meridian of intellectual splendor. Her great political dramatist speaks of the Athenian empire as comprehending a thousand states. The language of the stage must not be taken too literally ; but the number of the depend encies of Athens, at the time when the Peloponnesian confeder acy attacked her, was undoubtedly very great. With a few tri- fling exceptions, all the islands of the JEga^an, and all the Greek cities, which in that age fringed the coasts of Asia Minor, the Hellespont, and Thrace, paid tribute to Athens, and implicilly obeyed her orders. The JEgasan Sea was an Attic lake. West • 'Aet KadfOTuTog roi yaau vko dwaruTepov Kareipyeadai.— Thuc, i.. 77 AT SYRACUSE, 413 B.O 41 ward iif Greece, her influence, though strong, was not equally predominant. She had colonies and allies among the wealthy and populous Greek settlements in Sicily and South Italy, but ehe had no organized system of confederates in those regions ; and her galleys brought her no tribute from the Western seas Tlie extension of her empire over Sicily was the favorite project of her ambitious orators and generals. While her great states- man, Pericies, lived, his commanding genius kept his countrymen under control, and forbade them to risk the fortunes of Athena in distant enterprises, while they had unsubdued and powerful enemies at their own doors. He taught 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 bitter enemies, the Corinthians, succeeded, in 431 B.C., in mducing 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 tc 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 would be reduced, in two or three years at the farthest, to sub- mit to the requisitions cf her invaders. But her strong fortifi- cations, by which she was 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 seaman. A state, indeed, whose members, of an age fit for service, at no time ex- ceeded thirty thousand, and whose territorial extent did not equal half Sussex, could only have acquired such a naval dominion as Athens once held, by devoting, and zealously training, all its sons to service in its fleets. In order to man the numerous gaUeyg which she sent out, she necessarily employed large numbers of hired mariners and slaves at the oar ; but the staple of her crewg was Athenian, and all posts of command were held by native citizens. It was by reminding them of this, of their long prac- tice in seamanship, and the certain superiority which their dis- cipline gave them over the enemy's marine, that their great rain ister mainly encouraged them to resist the combined power of LacedaRmon and her allies. He taught them that Athens mighl 64 j>EFIAT OF THE ATHENIANS thus reap the fruit of her zealous devotion to maritime aifa.ir« 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 Lacedaemonians might harass Attica, but never could Bubdue Athens."* Athens accepted the war with which her enemies threatened her rather than descend from her pride of place ; and thougn the awful visitation of the Plague came upon her, and swept away more of her citizens than the Dorian spear laid low, she held her own gallantly against her enemies. If the Peloponne- Bian armies in irresistible strength wasted every spring her corn- lands, her vineyards, 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 re- volts were in general sternly and promptly quelled. The geniua of one enemy had indeed inflicted blows on her power in Thrace which she was unable to remedy ; but he fell in battle in the tenth year of the w^ar, and with the loss of Brasidas the Lace dsemonians 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 enemies, and enabled Athens to accumulate large sums out of the proceeds of her an- nual 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 rest- less spirits, who longed for some field of distant enterpriise where in they might signalize themselves and aggrandize 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 done her worst ; and the fact of its always bemg in her power to do so seemed a strong reason for seeking to increase the trans- marine dominion of Athens. The West was now the quarter toward which the thought! * Thuc, lib. i., sec. 144. AT SYRACUSE, 413 EC 06 of every aspiring Athenian were directed. From me very be ginuiufjf of the war Athens had kept up an interest in S oily, and her squadron had, IVom time to time, appeared on its coasts and taiven part in the dissensions in which the Sicilian Greeks were universally engaged one against each other. There wore plau- sible grounds for a direct quarrel, and an open attack by the A l.hcnians upon Syracuse. With the capture of Syracuse, all Sicily, it was hoped, would he secured. Carthage and Italy were next to be attacked. With large levies of Iberian mercenaries she then meant to over- whelm her Peloponnesian enemies. The Persian monarchy lay in hopeless 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 Rome has left us an episode of his great work, a disquisition on the probab'.e effects that would have followed if Alexander the Great had invaded Italy. Posterity has generally regarded that disquisition as proving Livy's patri- otism more strongly than his impartiality or acuteness. Yet, right or wrong, the speculations of the Roman writer were di- rected to the consideration of a very remote possibility. To what ever 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 impe- rial amalgamation of nations in which the truly great qualities of his mind loved to display themselves. With his death the dis- memberment of his empire among his generals was certain, even as the dismemberment of Napoleon's empire among his marshals would certainly have ensued if he had been cut off" in the zenith of his power. Rome, also, was far weaker when the Athenians were in Sicily than she was a century afterward in Alexander's lime. There can be little doubt but that Rome would have been blotted out from the independent powers of the West, had she been attacked at the end of the fifth century B.C. by an Athe- nian army, largely aided by Spanish mercenaries, and fluslied with triumphs over Sicily and Africa, instead of the collision be- tween her and Greece having been deferred until the latter had sunk into decrepitude, and tlie Roman Mars had grown into full vigor. The armament which the Athenians equipped against Syra 66 "uEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS cuse was in every way worthy of the state which formed such projects of urdversal empire, and it has been truly termed " the noblest that ever yet had been sent forth by a free and civilized commonwealth."* The fleet consisted of one hundred and thir- ',y-four war-galleys, Mdth a multitude of store-ships. A power- ful force of the best heavy- armed infantry that Athens and her allies could furnish was sent on board it, together with a sraallei number of slingers and bowmen. The quality of the forces was even more remarkable than the number. The zeal of individu- »ls vied with that of the republic in giving every galley the best possible crew, and every troop the most perfect accoutrements. And with private as well as public wealth eagerly lavished on all that could give splendor as well as efficiency to the expedi- tion, 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 gain in that island the same arbitrary supremacy which Athens maintained along 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 efforts were made by some of the wiser citizens to improve the state of the national defenses, and prepare for the impending danger, the rumors of coming yi^ar and the proposal for prepara tion were received by the mass of the Syracusans with scornful increduhty. The speech of one of their popular orators is pre- served to us in Thucydides,t and many of its topics might, by a slight alteration of names and details, sei've 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 Syiacusan orator told his countrymen to dismiss with scorn the visional) terrors which a set of designing men among themselves strove to excite, in order to get power and influence thrown into theii own hands He told them that Athens knew her own interest • Arnold's " History of Rome." t Lib. vi., sec. 36, et seq., Arnold's edition. I have almost literally trani scribed some of the marginal epitomes of the original speech. aT SYRACUSE, 413 B.C 07 toe well t\^ think of wantonly provoking their hostility : " Even if the enemies tvere to come." said he. "so distant from their resources, and opposed to such a poiv;)- as ours, their destruc- tion wotdd be easy and inevitable. Their shijjs ivill have er.oK^h to do to get to our island at all, and to carry such stores of all sorts as tvill be needed. They can not therefore carry, bf'sides, an army large enough to cope with such a populatio'.i as ours. They will Imve no fortified place from which to com- mence their operations, but must rest them on no better base than a set of ivretclted tents, and such means as the necessities of the moment tvill allow them. But, in truth, I do not be- lieve that they would even be able to effect a disembarkation. Let us, therefore, set at naught tliese reports as altogether of home manufacture ; and be sure that if any enemy does come, the state uill knoiu how to defend itself in a manner worthy of the national honor." Such assertions pleased the Syracusaa assembly, and their counterparts find favor now among some portion of the English public. But the invaders of Syracuse came ; made good their ianding in Sicily ; and, if they had promptly attacked the city itself, instead of wasting nearly a year in desultory operaticna in other parts of Sicily, the Syracusans must have paid the pen- alty of their self-sufficient carelessness in submission to the Athe- nian yoke. But, of the three generals who led the Athenian expedition, two only were men of ability, and one was most weak and incompetent. Fortunately for Syracuse, Alcibiades, the most skillful of the three, was soon deposed from his command by a factious and fanatic vote of his fellow-countrymen, and the other competent one, Lamachus, fell early in a skirmish ; while, more fortunately still for her, the feeble and vacillating Nicias remain- ed unrecalled and unhurt, to assume the undivided leadership :)f the Athenian army and fleet, and to mar, by alternate over- caution and over-carelessness, every chance of success which the early part of the operations oflbred. Still, even under him, the Athenians nearly won the toxyn. They defeated the raw levies oi the Syracusans, cooped them within the walls, and, as before mentioned, almost effected a continuous fortification from bay to bay over Epipola?, the completion of which would certauily have been followed by a capitulation. Alcibiades, the most complete example of genius without prin C a 58 DEFEAT OF THE ATHENllJ^Jl ciple that history produces, the Bohngbroke of antiquity, but with high military talents superadded to diplomatic and orator- ical powers, on being summoned home frorn 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 renegade to renew the war with Athens, and to fend instant assistance to Syracuse. "Wlien we read his words in the pages of Thucydldes (who was himself an exile from Athens at this period, and may prob- ably have been at Sparta, and heard Alcibiades speak), we are at a loss Avhether most to admire or abhor his subtile and trait- orous counsels. After an artful exordium, in which he tried to disarm the suspicioiis which he felt must be entertained of him. and to point out to the Spartans how completely his interests and theirs were identified, through hatred of the Athenian de- mocracy, he thus proceeded : " Hear me, at any rate, on the matters which require your grave attention, and which I, from the personal knowledge that I have of them, can and ought to bring before you. We Athe- nians 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 on the dominions of Carthage, and on Carthage it- self.* If all these projects succeeded (nor did we limit ourselves to them in these quarters), we intended to increase our fleet with the inexhaustible supplies of ship timber which Italy affords, to put in requisition the whole military force of the conquered Greek states, and also to hire large armies of the barbarians, of the Iberians,t and others in those regions, who are allowed to make the best possible soldiers. Then, when we had done all this, we intended to assail Peloponnesus with our collected force. Our fleets would blockade you by sea, and desolate your coasts , • Arnold in liis notes on this passage, well reminds the reader that Aguthocle.s, witii a Greek force far inferior to that of the Athenians at ihif period, did, some years afterward, very nearly conquer Carthage. t It will he remembered tlial Spanish infantry were the staj)]!! of the Carthaginian armies. D()id)tloss Aleihiados and other leading Athenians 1 .id made themselves acquainted with llie Carthaginian system of carry ing on war, and meant to adojjt it. With I he marvelous powers which AifMbiades i)oss(>s.«icd of iiigralialing himself with men of every (lass and every nation, and his high military genius, he would have been as formi (Ubie a ch^ef of an army of condotderi as Hannibal afterward was. A r SYK Acu -E, 4 1 3 B.C. 59 our arimes would be landed at different points and assail youi cities. Some of these we expected to stomi,* and others we meant to take by surround: ng them with fortified lines. We thought that it would thus be an easy matter thoroughly to wai you down ; and then we should become the masters of the whole Greek race. As for expense, we reckoned that each conquered Btato would give us supphes of money and provisions sufficient to pay for its own conquest, and furnish the means for the con- quest 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 acqiiainted with them. The other Athenian generals, who remain with the expedition, will endeavor to carry out these plans. 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 could at once be brought to combine in an organized resist- ance to Athens, they might even now be saved. But as for the Syracusans resisting Athens by themselves, they have already, with the whole strength of their population, fought a battle and been beaten ; they can not face the Atlienians 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 theirs, 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, aa soon as they land, can do duty as regular troops. But, above all, let one of yourselves, let a man of Sparta go over to take the chief command, to bring into order and effective discipline the forces that are in Syracuse, and urge those who at present hang back to come forward and aid the Syracusans. The pres- ence of a Spartan general at this crisis will do more to save the city thin a whole army."t The renegade then proceeded to urge or tliem the necessity of encouraging their friends in Sicily, by showing that they themselves were in earnsst in hostility tc * Alcibiades here alliuled to Sparta itself, which was unfortified. His Spartan hearers must have glanced lound Ihein at these words with mixeJ »larm and indignation. t 1 liuc., lib. vi., sec. 90, 91. 60 DEFEAT Of THE ATHENIANS Athens. He exhorted them not only to march their armies int« Attica again, but to take vip a permanent fortified position in the country ; and he gave them in detail information of all that the Alhenians most dreaded, and how his country might receive the most distressing and enduring injury at their hands. The Spartans resolved to act on his advice, and appointed G j'lippus to the Sicilian command. Gylippus was a man who, to the national braver) and military skill of a Spartan, united political sagacity that was worthy of his great fellow-comitryman 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 suc- cessful but venal soldier. But for the purpose for which he was required in Sicily, an abler man could not have been found in Lacedsemon. His country 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 squadron to act under him for the rescue of Sicily. As S'jon as four galleys were ready, he hurried over with them to the south- ern coast of Italy, and there, though he received such evil tidings of the state of Syracuse that he abandoned all hope 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 Syracusans was actually convened, and they were discussing the terms on w^iich they should offer to capitulate, when a galley w^as seen dashing into the great har- bor, and making her way toward the town with all the speed which her rowers could supply. From her shunning the part of the harbor where the Athenian fleet lay, and making straight for the Syracusan side, it was clear that sho was a friend ; the enemy's cruisers, careless through confidence of success, made no attempt to cut her oil'; she touched the beach, and a Corinthian naptain, springing on shore from her, was eagerly conducted tc the assembly of the Syracusan people just in time to prevent the fatal vote being put for a surrender. Providentially for Syracuse, Gongylus, the commander of the galley, had been prevented by an Athenian squadron from loUow AT SYilACUSfi, 413 B.C. 61 ing Gylippus to South Italy, and he had been obliged to puah direct for Syracuse from Greece. The sight of actual succor, and the promise of more, revived the droo])ing spirits of the Syracusaus. 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 thsir 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 un- finished space in the besiegers' lines through which it was barely possible to introduce re-enforcements into the town. Crossing the Straits of Messina, which the culpable negligence of Nicias had left unguarded, Gylippus landed on the northern coast oC Sicily, and there began to collect from the Greek cities an army, of which the regular troops that he brought from Peloponnesaa formed the nucleus. Such was the influence of the name of Sparta,* and such were his own abilities and activity, that hi succeeded in raising a force of about two thousand fully-armed infantry, with a larger number of irregular troops. Nicias, ai» if infatuated, made no attempt to counteract his operations, no:, when Gylippus marched his little army toward Syracuse, did th « Athenian commander endeavor to check him. The Syracusai* marched out to meet him ; and while the Athenians were sole! f intent on completing their fortifications on the southern siae toward the harbor, Gylippus turned their })osition by occupying the high ground in the extreme rear of Epipolie. He then marched through the unfortified interval of Nicias's lines into the besieged town, and joining his troops with the Syracusan forces, after some engagements with varying success, gained the mastery over Nicias, drove the Athenians from Epipolse, and hemmed them into a disadvantageous position in the low grounds near the great harbor. Tho attention of all Greece was now fixed on Syracuse ; and every enemy of Athens felt the importance of the opportunity now oilered of checking her ambition, and, perhaps, of striking a deadly blow at her power. Large re-enforcements from Cor oth, Thebes, and other cities now reached the Syracusans, while ♦ The effect of the presence of a Spartan oflieer on the troops of th« other Greeks seems to have been like the effect of the presence o/ an Ln- glish officer upon native Indian troops. 62 DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS the baffled and dispirited Athenian general earnestly hcK ugh' his countrymen to recall liim, and represented the further pros ecution of the siege as hopeless. But Athens had made it a maxim never to let difficulty oi disaster drive her back from any enterprise once undertaken, so long as she possessed the means of making any effort, however d^ST)erate, for its accomplishment. With indomitable pertinaci- ty, sb' now decreed, instead of recalling her first armament from oefore SjTacuse, to send out a second, though her enemies near home had now renewed open warfare against her, and by occu pying a permanent fortification in her territory had severely dis- tressed 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 mil- itary populalioii, 1o 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 Avould bend. At the head of this second expedition she wisely placed her best general, Demosthenes, one of the most distinguished officers that the long !Peloponnesian war had pro- duced, and who, if he had originally held the Sicilian command, would soon have brought Syracuse to submission. The fame of Demosthenes the general has been dimmed by the superior lustre of his great countryman, Demosthenes the or- ator. When the name of Demosthenes is mentioned, it is the latter alone that is thought of. The soldier has found no biog- rapher. Yet out of the long list of great men whom the Athe nian republic produced, there are few that deserve to stand high er than this brave, though finally unsuccessful leader of her fleets and armies in the first half of the Peloponnesian war. In his first campaign in JEtolia he had shown some of the rashness of youth, and liad leceived a lesson of caution by which he profited (throughout the rest of his career, but without losing any of hia natural energy in enterprise or in execution. He had performed the distinguished service of rescuing Naupactus from a powerful hostile armament in the seventh year of the war ; he had then, at the rerjuest of the Acarnanian republics, taken on himself the office of c(inniiander-in-c'hit:i of all llieir forces, and at their liead be had gained some important advantages over the enemies of AT SfRACUSE, 413 B.C. G3 Athens in Western Gre(;ce. His most celebrated exploits hati been the occupation of Pylos on the Messenian coast, the suc- cessful defense of that place against the fleet and armies of Lac- edccmon, and the subsequent capture of the Spartan forces on the isle of Sphacteria, which was the severest blow dealt to Sparta tliroughout the war, and which had mainly caused her to hum- ble herself to make the truce with Athens. Demosthenes 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 democratic side. He was neither in the interest of Nicias nor of Cleon. His pri- vate character was free from any of the stains which polluted that of Alcibiades. On all these points the silence of the comic dramatist is decisive evidence in his favor. He had also the moral courage, not always combined with physical, of seeking to do his duty to his country, irrespt ctive of any odium that he himself might incur, and unhampered by any petty jealousy of those who were associated with him in command. There are few men named in ancient history of whom posterity Avould 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 PiriEua at the head of the second Athenian expedition against Sicily. His arrival was critically timed ; for Gylippus had encouraged the Syracusans to attack the Athenians under Nicias by sea as well as by land, and by one able stratagem of Ariston, one of the admirals of the Corinthian auxiliary squadron, the Syracusans and their confederates had inflicted on the fleet of Nicias the first defeat that the Athenian navy had ever sustained from a numerically inferior enemy. Gylippus was preparing to follow up his advantage by fresh attacks on the Athenians on both ele ments, when the arrival of Demosthenes completely changed the aspect of affairs, and restored the superiority to the invaders. With seventy-three war-galleys in the highest state of efficiency, and brilliantly equipped, with a brce of five thousand picked men cf the regular infantry of Athens and her allies, and a still larger number of bow-men, javelin-men, and slingcrs on board, Demosthenes rowed round tlie great harbor with loud cheers and martial music, as if in defiance of the Syracusans and tlicir con- federates. His arrival had indeed changed their newly-borD 04 DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS hopes mto the deepest consternation. The resourccB of i^thens Beeraed inexhaustible, and resistance to her hopeless. They had been told that she was reduced to the last extremitie,s, and that her territory was occupied by an enemy ; and yet here they saw her sending forth, as if in prodigality of power, a second arma- ment to make foreign conquests, not inferior to that with which Kicias had first landed on the Sicihan shores. With the intuitive decision of a great commander, Demos- thenes at once saw that the possession of Epipolse was the key to the possession of Syracuse, and he resolved to make a prompt and vigorous attempt to recover that position, while his force was unimpaired, and the constei'nation which its arrival had produced among the besieged remained unabated. The Syracusans and their allies had run out an outwork along Epipolse 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 ouit- work, and in re-establishing the Athenian troops on the high ground, he might fairly hope to be able to resume the circum- vallation of the city, and become the conqueror of Syracuse ; 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 provisions and accelerate ita downfall. An easily-repelled attack was first made on the outwork in th« day-time, probably more with the view of blinding the besieged *.o the nature of the main operations than with any expectation of succeeding in an open assault, 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 fivje days' provisions, and the engineers and workmen of the camp following the troops with their tools, and all port- able implements of fortification, so as at once to secure any ad- vantage of ground that the army might gain. Thus equipped and prepared, he led liis men along by the foot of the southern iiank cf Epipol'*, in a direction toward the interior of the island, till lie came immediately below the narrow ridge that foims the ex- tremity of the higli ground looking westward. He then wlieeled his vanguard to the right, sent them rapidly up the paths thai wind along the face of the clifl', and succeeded in completely sur AT S YK ACUSE, 4 1 3 B.C., 6fl prising the Syracusan outposts, and in ]ila(;ing his troops lairly on the extreme summit of the all-important Epipola^ 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 out- work. All at first favored them. The outwork was abandcned by its garrison, and the Athenian engineers began to dismantle it. In vain Gylippus brought up fresh troops to check the as- siult ; the Athenians broke and di'ove them back, and continued t3 press hotly forward, in the full confidence of victory. But, ariid the general consternation of the Syracusans and their con- federates, one body of infantry stood firm. This was a brigade of their Boeotian allies, which was posted low down the slope of Epipolaj, outside the city walls. Coolly and steadily the Boeo- tian infantry formed their line, and, undismayed by the current of flight around them, advanced against the advancing Atheni- ans. This was the crisis of the battle. But the Athenian van was disorganized by its own previous successes ; and, yielding to the unexpected charge thus made en it by troops in perfect or- der, and of the most obstinate courage, it was driven back in confusion upon the other divisions of the army, that still contin- ued to press forward. When once the tide was thus turned, the Syracusans passed rapidly from the extreme of panic to the ex- treme of vengeful daring, and with all their forces they now fierce- ly assailed the embarrassed and receding Athenians. In vain did tlie officers of the latter strive to re-form their line. Amid the din and the shouting of the fight, and the confusion inseparable upon a night engagement, especially one where many thousand combatants were pent and whirled together in a narrow^ and un- even area, the necessary maneuvers were impracticable ; and though many companies still fought on desperately, wherever the moonlight showed them the semblance of a foe,* they fought without concert or subordination ; and not unfrequently, amid the deadly chaos, Athenian troops assailed each other. Keeping their * 'Hf nev yap ae^-^vrj Aa/xTrpa, iupuv de oOrwf d/lAv/loDf, tif ev aeT^Tjvi) e'lKOi r^v jiEv oxpiv Tov atJ^aroQ irpoopqv rr/v 6e yvucnv tov oIkcIov inziaTuadai.— Thdc, lib vii., 44. Compare Tacitus's description of the night engage- ment in the civil war between Vespasian and Vitellius. " Neutro inclina- »erat fortuna, donee aduita nocte, luna ostcndcret aries, falUretque." — Hist.. Uk>. iii., sec. 23. 66 DEFEAT 3F THE ATHFNIANS, ETC. ranks close, the Syracusans and their allies pressed on against the disorganized masses of the besiegers, and at length drovj them, with heavy slaughter, over the chffs, which an hour or two before they had scaled full of hope, and apparently certain of success. Th'.s defeat was decisive of the event of the siege. The Athe- nians afterward ?:ruggled only to protect themselves from the vengeance which the Sj'^racusans sought to wreak in the com- plete destruction of their invaders. Never, however, was venge- ance more complete and terrible. A series of sea-fights fol- lowed, in which the Athenian galleys were utterly destroyed oi captured. The mariners and soldiers w^ho escaped death in dis- astrous engagements, 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 Bold into slavery to the very persons whom, in their prids 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, continued to stiniggle against her combined enemies and revolted allies with unparalleled gallantry, and many more years of varying warfare passed away before she surrendered to their arms. But no suc- cess in subsequent contests could ever have restored her to the pre-eminence in enterprise, resources, and maritime 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 reorganizing her empire, or resum' ing her schemes of conquest. The dominion of "Western Europe was left for Rome and Carthage to dispute two centuries latei, in conflicts still more terrible, and with even higher displays of military daring and genius than Athens had iritneesed e/ther ifl her lise, her meridian, or her faJ.. SYNOPSIS OF INTERVENING EVENTS. fi7 Synopsis of Events between iai; Defeat of the Athe- nians AT Syracuse and the Battle of Arbela. 412 B.C. Many of the subject allies of Athens revolt from her on her disasters before Syracuse being known ; the seat of war is transferred to the Hellespont and eastern side of the ^gsean. 410. The Carthaginians attempt to make conquests in Siciiy 407. Cyrus the Younger is sent by the King of Persia to take the government of all the maritime parts of Asia Minor, and with orders to help the Laceda3moniau fleet against the Athenian. 406. Agrigentum taken by the Carthaginians. 405. The last Athenian fleet destroyed by Lysander at ^EgoS' potami. Athens closely besieged. Rise of the power of Dionys- ius at Syracuse. 404. Athens surrenders. End of the Peloponnesian war. The ascendency of Sparta complete throughout G-reece. 403. Thrasybulus, aided by the Thebans and with the conni- vance of one of the Spartan kings, liberates Athens from the Thirty Tyrants, and restores the democracy. 401. Cyrus the Younger commences his expedition into Up- per Asia to dethrone his brother Artaxerxes Mnemon. He takes with him an auxiliary force of ten thousand Greeks. He is kill- ed in battle at Cunaxa, and the ten thousand, led by Xenophon, eflbct their retreat in spite of the Persian armies and the natural obstacles of their march. 399. In this and the five following years, the Lacedajmonians, under Ageeilaus and other commanders, cany on war against the Persian satraps in Asia Minor. 396. Syracuse besieged by the Carthaginians, and successfully defended by Dionysius. 394. Rome makes her first great stride in the career of con- quest by the capture of Veii. 393. The Athenian admiral, Conon, in conjunction with the Persian satrap Pharnabazus, defeats the Lacedajmonian fleet off C nidus, and restores the fortifications of Athens. Several of the former aUies of Sparta in Greece carry on hostilities against her. 3b8. The nations of Northern Europe now fust appear in au- ihenlic history. The Gauls overrun great part cf Italy and burn 68 SYNOPSIS OF INTERVENING E/ENTS. Rome. Rome recovers from the blow, but her old enemies ttie ^quians and Volscians are left completely crushed by the Gal- lic invaders. 387. The peace of Antalcidas is concluded among the Greeks by the mediation, and under the sanction, of the Persian king. 378 lo 361. Fresh wars in Greece. Epaminondas raises Thebes to be the leading state of Greece, and the supremacy of Sparta is destroyed at the battle of Leuctra. Epaminondas is killed in gaining the victory of Mantinea, and the power of Thebes falls with him. The Athenians attempt a balancing ystem between Sparta and Thebes. 359. Philip becomes king of Macedon. 357. The Social War breaks out in Greece, and lasts three years. Its result checks the attempt of Athens to regain her old maritime empire. 356. Alexander the Great is bom. 343. Rome begins her wars with the Samnites : they extend over a period of fifty years. The end of this obstinate contest ia to secure for her the dominion of Italy. 340. Fresh attempts of the Cartliaginians upon Syracuse Timoleon defeats them with great slaughter. 338. Philip defeats the confederate armies of Athens and Thebes at Chaeronea, and the Macedonian supremacy over Greece is firmly established. 336. Philip is assassinated, and Alexander the Great becomes king of Macedon. He gains several victories over the northern barbarians who had attacked Macedonia, and destroys Thebes, which, in conjunction with Athens, had taken up arms against the Macedonians. 334. Alexander passes the Hellespont. BATTL£UFAIIB£LA. 6f CHAPTER III. THE BATTLE OF ARBELA, B.C. 331. Alexander deserves the glory which he has enjoyed for so manv rentQ' ties and anriong all nations: but what if he had been beaten at Arbela, having the Euphrates, the Tigris, and the deserts in his rear, without any •trong places of refuge, nine hundred leagues from Macedonia ! — Napo- leon. Asia beheld with astonishment and awe the uninterrupted progress of a bero, the sweep of whose conquests was as wide and rapid as that of her own barbaric kings, or of the Scythian or Chaldaan hordes ; but, far un hke the transient whirlwinds of Asiatic warfare, the advance of the Mac- edonian leader was no less deliberate than rapid : at every step the Greek power took root, and the language and the civilization of Greece were planted from the shores of the yEgaean to the banks of the Indus, from the Caspian and the great Hyrcanian plain to the cataracts of the Nile; to exist actually for nearly a thousand years, and in their effects to endure forever. — Arnold. A LONG and not uninstructive list might be made out of illus- trious men whose characters have been vindicated during recent times from aspersions which for centuries had been thrown on them. The spirit of modern inquiry, and the tendency of mod- ern scholarship, both of which are often said to he solely nega* live and destructive, have, in truth, restored to splendor, and al- most created anew, far more than they have assailed with cen. sure, or dismissed from consideration as unreal. The truth of many a brilliant narrative of brilliant exploits has of late yean been triumphantly demonstrated, and the shallowness of the skep- tical scofis with which little minds have carped at the great minds of antiquity has been in many instances decisively exposed. The laws, the politics, and the lines of action adopted or rec- ommended by eminent men and powerful nations have been ex- amined with keener investigation, and considered with more eomprehensivo judgment than formerly were brought to bear on these subjects The result has been at least as often favorable as unfavorable to the persons and the states so scrutinized, and many an oft-repeated slander against both measures and n.eD has thus been silenced, we may hope forever. V Battle of arbela. The veracity of Herodotus, the pure patriotism of Ptiricks, of Demosthenes, aud of the Gracchi, the wisdom of Clisthenes and of Licinius as constitutional reformers, may be mentioned as facts which recent writers have cleared from unjust suspicion and cen- sure. And it might be easily shown that the defensive tenden- cy, which distinguishes the present and recent great writers of Germany, France, and England, has been equally manifested n the spirit in which they have treated the heroes of thought and heroes of action who lived during what we term the Middle Ages, and whom it was so long the fashion to sneer at or neglect. The name of the victor of Arbela has led to these reflections ; for, although the rapidity and extent of Alexander's conquests have through all ages challenged admiration and amazement, the grandeur of genius which he displayed in his schemes of commerce, civilization, and of comprehensive union and unitjr among nations, has, until lately, been comparatively unhonored. This long-continued depreciation was of early date. The ancient; rhetoricians — a class of babblers, a school for lies and scandal, as Niebuhr justly termed them — chose, among the stock themes foi their commonplaces, the character and exploits of Alexander. They had their followers in every age ; and, until a very recent period, all who wished to "point a moral or adorn a tale," about unreasoning ambition, extravagant pride, and the formi dable phrensies of free will when leagued with free power, have never failed to blazon forth the so-called madman of Macedonia as one of the most glaring examples. Without doubt, many of these writers adopted with implicit credence traditional ideas, and supposed, with uninquiring philanthropy, that in blackening Alexander they were doing humanity good service. But also, •without doubt, many of his assailants, like those of other great •nen, have been mainly instigated by " that strongest of all an- tipathies, the antipathy of \ second-rate mind to a first-rate one,"* and by the envy which talent too often bears to genius. Arrian, who wrote his history of Alexander when Hadrian was einpcror of the Roman world, and when the spii'it of deela- mat.on and dogmalism was at its full height, but who was him- pelf, unlike the dreaming pedants of the schools, a statesman and a soldier of practical and proved ability, well rebuked the ma levolent aspersions which he heard continually thrown upon the * De Stael. BATTLEOFARBELA. /\ mimory ot the great conqueror of the East. He trul}' says, "Let the man who speaks evil of" Alexander not irerely 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 he arrived. Let him consider that Alexander was a king, and the undisputed lord of the two continents, and that his name is renowned throughout the whole earth. Let the evil-speaker against Al exander bear all this in mind, and then let him reflect on his own insignificance, the pettiness of his own circumstances 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 citj', nay, no single individual with whom Alexander's name had not be- come a familiar word. I therefore hold that such a man, who w^as like no ordinary mortal, was not born into the world with- out some special providence.''* And one of the most distinguished soldiers and writers of oui own nation. Sir Walter Raleigh, 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 conqueror" in language that well deserves quotation " So much hath the spirit of some one man excelled as it hath undertaken and effected 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 passions of his own fol- lowers 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 estabhsh and to destroy, and to bring all things, persons, and states to the same certain ends, which the infinite spirit of the Zhiiversal, piercing, moving, and governing all things, hath or- iaiued. Certainly, the things that this king did were aiarvol- • Arri&n lib. vii., ad finem. iTS BATTLEOFARBELA. BUS, and would hardly have heen undertaken by any one else ; and though his father had determined to have invaded the Less- er Asia, it is like enough that he would have contented himself with some part thereof, and not have discovered the river of In- dus, as this man did."* • See Mitford 78 BATTLEOFARBELA. mail legions seived by thousands under King Dariiis. If, on Uie contrary, Alexander should defer his march against Babylon, and first seek an encounter with the Persian army, the countiy 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, where he him- self had in early life been satrap, where he had acquired reputa- Uoii 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.* His 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 cam- paigns of Alexander, we possess the peculiar advantage of de- riving our information from two of Alexander's generals of divis- ion, who bore an important part in all his enterprises. Aristo- bulus and Ptolemy (who afterward became king of Egypt) kepi regular journals of the military events which they witnessed, and these journals were in the possession of Arrian when he drew u^ his history of Alexander's expedition. The high character of Ar rian for integrity makes us confident that he used them fairly, and his 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? histoiy thus acquires a charm such as very few ancient or mod em military narratives possess. The anecdotes and expressions which he records we fairly believe to be genuine, and not to be the coinage of a rhetorician, like those in Curtius. In fact, in reading Arrian, we read General Aristobulus and General Ptol- emy on the campaigns of the Macedonians, and it is like read- ing General Jomini or General Foy on the campaigns of the French. The estimate which we find in Arrian of the strength of Alex- • Mitford's remarks on the strategy of Darius in his last caniijaign are vcr} just. After liaving heen unduly admired as an historian. Mitford is now unduly neglected. His partiality, and his deficiency in .scholarship have heen exposed sufficiently to make him no longer a dangerous guide as to Greek jjolitics, while the clearness and lirilliancy of his narrative, and the strong common sense of his remarks (where his party prejudices do not interfore), must always make his volumes valuable as well as eo tsrtaining. BATTLEOFAKBELA. 7S antler's amiy seems reasonable enough, when we take into ac count hotli the losses which he had sustained and the re-enforce- ments which he had received since he left Europe. Indeed, tc Enghshmen, who know with what mere handfuls of men oui own generals have, at Plassy, at Assaye, at Meeanee, and other Indian battles, routed large hosts of Asiatics, the disparity of iiuinbers 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 in the highest possible state of equipment and discipline, enthu- .siastically devoted to their leader, and full of confidence m his 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 hij« father Phihp, 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 depth 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 fully equipped in the defen- sive armor of the regular Greek infantry. And thus the phalanx presented a ponderous and bristling mass, which, as long as it& order was kept compact, was sure to bear doM'u all opposition. The defects of such an organization are obvious, and were proved in after years, when the Macedonians were opposed to the Roman legions. But it is clear that under Alexander the phalanx was not the cumbrous, unwieldy body which it was at Cynoscephalaj and Pydna. His men were veterans ; and he could obtain trom them an accuracy of movement and steadiness of evolution such as jirobably the recruits of his father would only have rioundered in attempting, and such as certainly were impracticable in the phalanx when handled by his successors, especially as uudei them it ceased to be a standing force, and oecauie only a inilitia.1 * See Niebulir's " Hist, of Rome," vol. iii p 466. [ See Niebuhr bU B A T r L E OF ARBE La. Under Alexander the phalanx consisted of an aggregate of eight een thousand men, w^ho were divided into six brigades of three thousand each. These were again subdivided irto rogiinenta and companies ; and the men were carefully trained to wheel, to face about, to take more ground, or to close up, as the emei- gencies of the battle required. Alexander also arrayed troops armed in a difierent manner in the intervals of the regiments of his phalangites, who could prevent their line from being pierced and tJieir companies taken in flank, M^hen the nature of the ground prevented a close formation, and who could be with- drawn when a favorable opportunity arrived for closing up the phalanx or any of its brigades for a chai'ge, or when it was nec- essary to prepare to receive ca /airy. Besides the phalanx, Alexander had a considerable force of infantry who were called Shield-bearers : they were not so heav- ily armed as the phalangites, or as was the case with the Greek 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 w-arfare. They were about six thou- sand strong. Besides these, he had several bodies of Greek reg- ular infantry ; and he had archers, slingers, and javelin-men, Avho fought also with broadsword and target, and who were princi- pally supplied him by the highlanders of Illyria and Thracia. The main strength of his cavalry consisted in two choseri regi- ments of cuirassiers, one Macedonian and one Thessalian, each of which was about fifteen hundred strong. They were ]i>fovid- cd with long lances and heavy swords, and horse as well tts mar was fully equipped with defensive armor. Other regiments of regular cavalry were less heavily armed, and there were <5evera< bodies of light horsemen, whom Alexander's conquests i 4 Egypt and Syria had enabled him to mount superbly. A little before the end of August, Alexander crossed the Eu- phrates at Thapsacus, a small corps of Persian cavalry utider Ma- zasus letiring before him. Alexander was too prudent to march down through the Mesopotamian deserts, and continued to ad- vance eastward with the intention of passing the Tigris, and then, li hf? was unable to find Darius and bring him to action, of march- ing southward on the left side of that river along the skirts of a mountainous district where his men would sufier less from heal and thirst, and where provisions would be more abundant. fi AT r L E O !•' A K B t^ L A. 8l Oarius. liuding thai liis adversary was not to be enticed into the march tlirough Mesopotamia apaiiist his capital, determined to remain on the battle-ground, which he had chosen on the left of the Tigris ; where, it" his enemy met a defeat or a check, the destruction of the invaders would be certain with two such rivers as the Euphrates ani the Tigris in their rear. The Persian king availed himself to the utmost of every advantage in his power. He >'aused a large space of ground to be carefully leveled for the operation of his scythe-armed chariots \ and he deposited his mil- tlary stores in the strong town of Arbela, about twenty miles in his rear. The rhetoricians of after ages have loved to describe ]>arius Codomanus as a second Xerxes in ostentation and imbe- cility ; but a i'air 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. On learning that Darius was with a large army on the left of the Tigris, Alexander hurried forward and crossed that rivei witliout opposition. He was at first unable to procure any cer- tain intelligence 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 upor. the fact that Alexander must in this march have passed within a few miles of the ruins of Nineveh, the great city of the primae- val conquerors of the human race. Neither the Macedonian king nor any of his ioUowers knew what those vast mounds had once been. They had already sunk into 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 a\'iln the intention of reaching the enemy, and attacking them at break of day. About half M^ay betAveen 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 early light, the Persian host arrayed before him, and he probably also observed traces of some engineering oper- ation 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 officers were for attacking instantly, at all hazards ; but the more pru- dent opinion of Parmenio prevailed, and it was determined not to advance further till the battle-ground had been carefully sur- veyed. Alexander halted his army on the heights, and, taking with him some 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 refrain- ed from moving from his position to attack the Macedonians on the eminences which they occupied, and the two armies remain- ed until night without molesting each other. On Alexander's return to his head-quarters, he summoned his generals and supe rior officers together, and telling them that he well knew thai 'heir zeal wanted no exhortation, he besought them to do their •ulLiost in encouraging and instructing those whom each com- ;jianded, to do their best in the next day's battle. They were '.,) remind them that they were now not going to fight for a prov- lice as they had hitherto fought, but they were about to decide i'y tlieir swords the dominion of all Asia. Each oflice • ought to iinpresE: this upon his subalterns, and they should urge it on their men. Their natural courage req xired no long wo«ds to excit': iti BATTLEOFARBELA. tiZ ardor ; but they shou.d be reminded of the paramount impon aiice oi" steadiness in action. The silence in the ranks must be unbroken as long as silence was proper ; but when the time came for ihe charge, the shout and the cheer must be full of terror for the foe. The officers were to be alert in receiving and commu- tiicating orders ; and every one was to act as if he felt that thi- whole result of the battle depended on his own single good con hict. Having thus briefly instructed his generals, Alexander ordered that the army should sup, and take their rest for the night. Darkness had closed over the tents of the Macedonians, when Alexander's veteran general, Panmenio, came to him, and pro posed that they should make a night attack on the Persiai;- The king is said to have answered that he scorned to filch » victory, and that Alexander must conquer openly and fairly. Arrian justly remarks that Alexander's resolution was as wise as it was spirited. Besides the confusion and uncertainty which are inseparable from night engagements, the value of Alexan- der's victory would have been impaired, if gained under circum- stances which might supply the enemy with any excuse for hia defeat, and encouraged him to renew the contest. It was nec- essary for Alexander not only to beat Darius, but to gain 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. Such was the apprehension that Darius enter- tained of it, that he formed his troops at evening in order of bat- tle, and kept them under arms all night. The effect of this was, that the morning found them jaded and dispirited, while it brought their adversai'ies all fresh and vigorous against them. The written order of battle which Darius himself caused to be drawn up, fell into the hands of the Macedonians after the engagement, and Aristobulus copied it into his journal. We thus possess, thi'ough Arrian, unusually authentic information as to tho composition and arrangement of the Persian army. On the ex- treme 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 to these the Cadusians. These forces made up the left wing. Darius's owe station was in the centre. This was composed of the Indians 84 BATTLEOFARUELA. the Caiians, the Mardian archers, and the division of Persiaai who were diiLtiuguished by the golden apples that formed the knobs of their spears. Here also were stationed the body-guard of the Persian nobility. Besides these, there were, in the cen- tre, formed in deep order, the Uxian and Babylonian troops, and the soldiers from the Red Sea. The brigade of Greek mercena- ne.s Avhom Darius had in his service, and who alone were con- sidi.red fit to stand the charge of the Macedonian phalanx, was drawn up on either side of the royal chariot. The right wing was composed of the Coelosyrians and Mesopotamians, the Medes, the Parthians, the Sacians, the Tapurians, Hyrcanians, Albani- an-, 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 elephants and fifty scythe-armed chariots were ranged in front of the centre ; and fifty more chariots, with the Armenian and Cappadocian 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 hundred and eighty-tAvo years ago, dawned slowly to their wearied watch- ing, and they could hear the note of the Macedonian trumpet Bounding 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 Alexan der's side ; and few battle-fields have witnessed more consum mate generalship than was now displayed by the MacedonidK king. There were no natural barriers by which he could pro tect his flanks ; and not only was he certain to be overlapped on either wing by the va.st lines of the Persian army, but there was imminent risk of their circling round him, and charging him in the rear, while he advanced against their centre. 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 move- M=?nts might necessitate ; and thus, with their whole army ready at any moment to be thrown into one vast hollow p^uare, the * See Clinton's " Fasti Hellenici." The battle was roii^ht eleven days aftex an eclipse of the moon vhich gives the means of fixing (lie precise date. BATTLE OlARBEL A. tit Macedonians advanced in two lines against the enerny, Alexan* tier himself leading on the right wing, and tlie renownad pha- lanx forming the centre, while Parmenio commanded on the left. Such was the general nature of the disposition which Alex ant'or made of his army. But we have in Arrian the details of th3 position of each brigade and regiment ; and as we know that tJi23o details were taken from the journals of Macedonian genei' sis, it is interesting to examine them, and to read the names and etations of King Alexander's generals and colonels in this, the greatest of hio battles. The eight regiments of the royal horse-guards formed the right of Alexander's line. Their colonels were Cleitus (whose regi- ment was on the extreme right, the post of peculiar danger), (rlaucias, Arisiton, Sopolis, Heracleides, Demetrias, Meleager, and Hegelochus. Philotas was general of the whole division. Then came the Shield-bearing infantry : Nicanor was their gen- eral. Then came the phalanx in six brigades. Cosnuss brig- ade was on the right, and nearest to the Shield-bearers ; next to this stood the brigade of Perdiccas, then Meleager's, then Pol- ysperchon's ; and then the brigade of Amynias, but which was now commanded by Simmias, as Amynias had been sent to Mac- edonia to levy recruits. Then cams the infantry of the left wing, under the command of Crateras. Iv.jxt to Craterus's infantry were placed the cavalry regiments of the allies, with Eriguius for their general. The Thessahan cavalry, commanded by Phi- lippus, were next, and held the extreme left of the whole army The whole left wing was intrusted to the command of Parmenio, who had round his person the Pharsalian regiment of cavalry, M'hich was the strongest and best of all the Thessalian horse regiments. The centre of the second line was occupied by a body of pha- langite infantry, formed of companies which were drafted for this purpose from each of the brigades of their phalanx. The offi- pers in command of this corps were ordered to be ready to face about, if the enemv she aid succeed in gaining the rear of the army. On the ngnt of this reserve of infantry, in the second lino, and behind the royal horse-guards, Alexander placed half the Agriaa light-armed iiilantry inider Attains, and with them Brison's body ^f Macedonian archers and Oleander's regiment of foot. He also olaced in this part cf his army Menidas's squadron of cavalry, 5C K A T T J E O F A I H K L A and Aretes's aud Ariston's light lioise. Meaidas was ordered u watch if the enemy's cavahy tried to turn their flank, and, il they did so, to charge thern before they wheeled completely round, and so take them in flank themselves. A similar force was ar- ranged on the left of the second line for the same purpose. The Thrajian infantry of Sitalces were placed there, and Coeranus's regiment of the cavalry of the Greek allies, and Agathon's troops )f tlie ()dr}'sian irregular horse. The extreme left of the second Uuo in this quarter was held by Andromachus's cavalry. A di- vision of Thracian infantry was left in guard of the camp. In advance of the right wing and centre was scattered a number of light-armed troops, of javelin-men and bow-men, with the in- tention of warding ofi'the charge of the armed chariots.* Conspicuous by the brilliancy of his armor, and by the chosen band of officers who were round his per.son, Alexander took his own station, as his custom was, in the rjght wing, at the head of his cavalry ; and when all the arrangements for the battle were complete, and his generals were fully instructed how to act in each probable emergency, he began to lead his men toward the enemy. It was ever his custom to expose his life freely in battle, and to emulate the personal prowess of his great ancestor, Achilles. Perhaps, in the bold enterprise of conquering Persia, it was pol- itic for Alexander to raise his army's daring to the utmost by the example of his own heroic valor ; aud, in his subsequent cam- paigns, the love of the excitement, of" the raptures of the strife," may have made him, like Murat, continue from choice a custom which he commenced from duty. But he never suffered the ar- dor of the soldier to make him lose the coolness of the general, and at Arbela, in particular, he showed that he could act up to his favorite Homeric maxim of being 'A^^orfpov, (iaaiTiEv^ r' ayaBbr Kparepog r' alxiiijTfjg. Great reliance had been placed by the Persian king on the tiTects of the scythe-bearing chariots. It was designed to launch these against the Macedonian phalanx, and to ibUow them up Ly a heavy charge of cavalry, which, it was hoped, would find • Klf'her's arrangement of li:s troops at ihe battle ofHeliopolis, where, witli ti-n llKtusand Europeans, lie had to encounter eighty thousand Asi alica in an open plain, is wortli comparing with Alexander's tactics at Ar bela. See Thiers's " Histoire du Consulat," &c . vol. ji., livre v. BAilLE OF ARBELrt HI the ranks of the spearmen disordered by the rush ol liie cliai....!. and easily destroy this most formidable part of Alexander's force. In front, therefore, of the Persian centre, where Darius took his fetation, and which it was supposed that the phalanx would at tack, the ground had been carefully leveled and smoothed, so as {i allow the chariots to charge over it with their *'ull sweep and ijjieed. As the Macedonian army approached the Persian, Alex- iuder found that the front of his whole line barely equaled the IVniit of the Persian centre, so that he was outflanked on liia right by the entire left wing of the enemy, and by their entire right wing on his left. His tactics were to ai^sail some one point of the hostile army, and gain a decisive advantage, while he re- fused, 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 en- able his right wing and centre to come into collision with the enemy on as favorable terms as possible, although the maneuvei might in some respect compromise his left. The eflect of this oblique movement 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 to lose the benefit of this arm against the most important parts of the Macedonian force, ordered the Scythian and Bactrian cavalry, who were drawn up in advance on his ex- treme left, to charge round upon Alexander's right wing, and check its further lateral progress. Against these assailants Al- exander 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 Olean- der with his foot, in support of Menidas. The Bactrians and Scythians now began to give way ; but Darius re-enforced thorn by the mass of Bactrian cavalry from his main line, and an ob- stinate cavalry fight now took place. The Bactrians and Scythi- ans were numerous, and were better armed than the hor.-tmen under Menidas and Ariston ; and the loss at first was heaviest •Ml the Macedonian side. But still the European cavalry stnod the charge of the Asiatics, and at laiL.by their superior 'Jisei- p!ine, and by acting in squadrons that supported each other,* in- * 'A/'-Aa Kal (Df tu^ —poaBo'/.uc avTtJv t(5«;\oi'ro ol MaKCf^uvsr, Kal iii<2 Kar i}.ac 7rpoairinTovTe( ei c F si.s or f. VE M TS ward the Ganges, and he commenoBS the descent ot the Indus On his march he attacks and subdues severa" Judian tnbes — among others, the Malli, in the storming of whose capital (Mod tail) he is severely wounded. He directs his admiral, Neaichus, io 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 aftei je; hac crossed the Hellespont, Alexander, having won his vast dfcniinion, entered Babylon ; and resting from his career in that i)lu3St seat of earthly empire, he steadily survej^ed the mass of various nations which owned his sovereignty, and resolved in hi? mind the great work of breathing into this huge but inert body the living spirit of Greek civilization. In the bloom of y^outhfu! 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 opportunity of offering their homage before his throne. They came from all the extremities of the earth to propitiate his an- ger, to celebrate his greatness, or to solicit his protection. * * * History may allow us to think that Alexander and a Roman em- bassador did meet at Babylon ; that the greatest man of the an- cient 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 more enduring empire. They met, too, in Babylon, almost beneath the shadow of the Temple of Bel, perhaps the earliest monument ever raised by human pride and power in a city, stricken, as it were, by the word of God's heav iest judgment, as the symbol of greatness apart from and opposed to goodness." — (Arnold.) 323. Alexander dies at Babylon. On his death being known at 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 tha 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 rjurdered, his principal surviv- ing generals assume the title of king, each ovei the provincei AFTERAUBELA. 93 which he has occupied. The four chief among them were An- tigonus, Ptolemy, Lysimachus, and Seleucus. Antipater was now dead, but his son Cassander succeeded to his power in Mac edonia and Greece 301. Seleucus and Lysimachus defeat Antigonus at Ipsus. Anligonus 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 beyond the limits reached by Alexander. Seleucus had some sparks of his great master's genius in pi'omoting civihzation and commerce, as well as in gaining victories. Under his success- ors, the Seleucida3, this vast empire rapidly diminished : Bactria became independent, and a separate dynasty of Greek kings ruled tliere in the year 125, when it was overthrown by the Scythian tribe. Parthia threw oif its allegiance to the Seleucidee in 250 B.C., and the powerful Parthian kingdom, which afterward proved so formidable a fo3 to Rome, absorbed nearly all the provinces west of the Euphrates that had obeyed the first Se- leucus. Before the battle or" Ipsus, Mithradates, a Persian prince of the blood-royal of the Achsemenidae, had escaped to Pontus and founded there the kingdom 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 gener«ii of Alexander was that of the Ptolemies in Egypt. The throne of Macedonia was long and obstinately contended for by Cassander, Polysperchon, Lysima- chus, Pyrrhus, Antigonus, and others, but at last was secured by the dynasty of Antigonus Gonatas. The old republics of Southern Greece suffered severely during these tumults, and the only Greek states that showed any sti-ength and spirit were the citi.3s of the Achaean league, the iEtolians, and the islandeia c£ Rhodes. € Battle of the metaurob- CHAPTER IV. THE BATTLE OF THE METAURUS, B.C. 207. Quid debeas, Roma, Neronibus, Testis Metauriim flumen, et Hasdrubal Devictus, et puleher fugatis Ille dies Latio tenebris, &.C. HoKATins, iv. Od.r 4 The consul Nero, who made the unequaled march which deceived Han nibal and defeated Has Iriibal, thereby accomplishing an achievement al- most unrivaled in military annals. The first intelligence of his return, to Hannibal, was the sight uf Hasdrubal's head thrown into his camp. When Hannibal saw this, he exclaimed, with a sigh, that " Rome would now be the mistress of the world." To this victory of Nero's it might be owing that his imperial namesake reigned at all. But the infamy of the one has eclipsed the glory of tne other. When the name of Nero is heard, who thinks of the consuH But such are human things —Byron. About midway between Rimini and Ancona a little rivei falls into the Adriatic, after traversing one of those districts of Italy in which a 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 recollec- tions of the resolute daring of ancient Rome, and of the slaugh- ter that stained its current two thousand and sixty-three years ago, when the combined consular armies of Livius and Nero en- countered and crushed near its banks the varied hosts which Hannibal's brother was leading from the Pyrenees, the Rhone, the Alps, and the Po, to aid the great Carthaginian in his stem struggle to annihilate the growing might of the Roman repub- lic, and make the Punic power supreme over all the nations of the world. The Roman historian, who termed that struggle the most memorable of all wars that ever were carried on,* wrote in no spirit of exaggeration ; for it is not in ancient, but in modern history, that parallels for its incidents and its heroes aro to bfl • Livy, lib. xxi., sec I. B AT T L E OF THE METAUK L S. 97 fcund The similitude between the contest which Rome main- tamed against Hannibal, and that which England was for many years engaged in against Napoleon, has not passed unobserved by recent historians. " Twice," says Arnold,* " has there bo?n witnessed the struggle of" the highest individual genius against t he resources and institutions of a great nation, and in both cases the nation has been victorious. For seventeen years Hannibal strove against Rome; for sixteen years Napoleon Bouapaite strove against England : the efforts of the first ended in Zama ; Miose of the second, in Waterloo." One point, however, of the similitude between the two wars has scarcely been adequately dwelt on ; that is, the remarkable parallel between the Roman goneral who finally defeated the great Carthaginian, and the English general who gave the last deadly overthrow to the French emperor. Scipio and Wellington both held for many years commands of high importance, but distant from the main theatres of warfare. The same country was the scene of the principal militaiy career of each. It was in Spain that Scipio, like Wellington, successively encountered and overthrew nearly all the subordinate generals of the enemy before being opposed to the chief champion and conqueror 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 overwhelming defeat of the chosen leader and the chosen veterans of the foe. Nor is the parallel between them limited to their military characters and exploits. Scipio, like Wellington, became an im- portant leader of the aristocratic party among his countrymen, and was exposed to the unmeasured invectives of the violent sec- tion of his political antagonists. When, early in the last reign, an infuriated mob assaulted the Duke of Wellington in the streets of the English capital on the anniversary of Waterloo, England was even more disgraced by that outrage than Rome was by the factious accusations which demagogues brought against Scipio, but M'hich he proudly repelled on the day of trial by reminding the 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 wo shall V spared the ignominy of having worked out to the end » Vol. iii., p. 62 See also Alison, paatim. E 98 iJATTLEOFTHEMETAOaUS. the parallel of national ingratitude. Scipio died a voluntary e\ lie from the malevolent turbulence of Rome. Englishmen of all ranks and politics have now long united in affectionate admira- tion of our modern Scipio ; and even those who have most wide- ly differed from the duke on legislative or administrative ques tions, forget what they deem the political errors of that time- honored head, Avhile they gratefully call to mind the laurels that havs wreathed it. Sr;ipio at Zama trampled in the dust the power of Carthage , but that power had been already irreparably shattered in anoth- er field, where neither Scipio nor Hannibal commanded. When the Metam-us witnessed the defeat and death of Hasdrubal, it witnei5sed the ruin of the scheme by which alone Carthage cf)uld hope to organize decisive success — the scheme of enveloping Rome at once from the north and the south of Italy by two cho- sen armies, led by tAvo sons of Hamilcar.* That battle was the determining crisis of the contest, not merely between Rome and Carthage, but 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 Romaine" would have been invaluable if the general industry and accu- racy of the writer had in any degree equaled his originality and brilliancy, eloquently remarks, "It is not without reason that so universal and vivid a remembrance jf the Punic wars has dwelt in the memories of men. They formed no mere struggle to de- termine 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 man- kind, whether the dominion of the world should belong to the Indo-Germanic or to the Semitic family of nations. Bear in mind that the first of these comprises, besides the Indians and the Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, and the Germans. la the other are ranked the Jews and the Arabs, the Phoenicians an- the Carthaginians. On the one side is the genius of hero- ism, of art, and legi.slation ; on the other is the spirit of industry, of commerce, of navigation. The two opposite races have ev'"ry where come into contact, every whero into hostility. In tho primitive history of Persia and Chaldea, the heroes are perpet- ually engaged in combat with their industrious and perfidioju * See Arnold, vol. iii., 387. B A VV 1, E C P THE .M E T A U R U S. i^6 neighbors. The slrugfjrle is renewed bttween the Plioenic.au8 ami the 'Jieeks on every coast of the Mediterranean. The GrRek supplants the Phoenician in all his factories, all his co:i:- iiies in the East : soon will the Roman come, and do likewise in the West. Alexander did far more ajjainst Tyre than Salinana- ear or Nahuchodouosor had done. Not content with crushinfj 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. There remained Carthage — the great Carthage, and her niighty empire — mighty in a far difler- ent degree than Phoenicia's had been. Rome annihilated it. Then occurred that which has no parallel in history — an entire civilization perished at one blow — vanished, like a falling star. The " Periplus" of Hanno, a few coins, a score of lines in Plau- tus, and, lo, all that remain.s of the Carthaginian world I " 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 betAveen 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 Mattel and the sword of the Cid. The crusades were the natural reprisals for the Arab invasions, and form the last <;poch of that great struggle between the two principal families if the h iman race." It is c fficult, amid the glimmering light supplied by the aliu' fiious of I le classical writers, to gain a full idea of the character and institutions of Rome'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 centur es, an< fuse into imperial unity the narrow nationalities oi 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 Phoenicians planted Dn the coast of Northern Africa. But her advantageous posi- tion, the cxcell'Mice of her constitution (of which, though ill in- foiu-»d as to its details, we know that it comu^anded the admi ,00 BATTLE Ol' THE ME TAURUS. nation of Aristotle), and the commercial and political eiiei'gj' oi her citizens, gave her the ascendency over Hippo, Utica, Leptis, and her other sister Phoenician cities in those regions ; and sh»! finally reduced them to a condition of dependency, similar to that which the subject allies of Athens occupied relatively tc that once imperial city. When Tyre and Sidon, and the othoi cities of Phoenicia 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 Phceni- 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 Gib- raltar. ■ We have yet extant (in a Greek translation) the narra- tive of the voyage of Hanno, one of their admirals, along the western coast of Africa as far as Sierra Leone ; and in the Latin poem of Festus 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 Phujnicians 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 merchantSj may be paralleled with any achievements that the history ol fncdorn navigation and commerce can produce. In their Atlantic voyages along the Airicau shores, the Cartha- ginians followed the double object of traffic and colonization. The numerous settlements that were planted by them along the coast from Morocco to Senegal provided for the needy members «f the constantly increasing population of a great commerciai BATTLE OF I II f. M li T A U R U 3. 103 rapilul; and .also strenj^thened the influence vvliich Carlliafje ex- ercised among the tribes of the African coast. Besides Iier fleets, hor caravans gave her a large and lucrative trade with the na live Africans ; nor must we limit our belief of the extent of the (Carthaginian trade with the tribes of Central and Western Af- lica by the narrowness of the commercial intercourse which civ- ilized nations of modern times have been able to create in those egions. Although essentially a mercantile and seafaring people, the Carthaginians by no means neglected agriculture. On the con- tra r}s the whole of their territory was cultivated like a garden. The fertility of the soil repaid the skill and toil bestowed on it ; and every invader, from Agathocles to Scipio iEmilianus, was struck with admiration at the rich pasture lands carefully irri- gated, the abundant harvests, the luxuriant vineyards, the plant- ations of fig and olive trees, the thriving villages, the populous towns, and the splendid Adllas of the wealthy Carthaginians, through which his march lay, as long as he was on Carthagiuiau ground. Although the Carthaginians abandoned the ^Egsean and the Pontus to the Greek, they were by no means disposed to relin quish to those rivals the commerce and the domiiiioii of the coasts of the Mediterranean westward of Italy For centuries the Car- thaginians strove to make themselves masters of the islands that he between Italy and Spain. They acquired the Balearic Isl- ands, where the principal harbor, Port Mahon, still bears the name of a Carthaginian admiral. They succeeded in reducing the great part of Sardinia ; but Sicily could never be brought into their power. They repeatedly invaded that island, and nearly overran it ; but the resistance which was opposed to- them by the Syracusans under Gelon, Dionysius, Timoleon, and Agathocles, preserved the island from becoming Punic, though many of its cities remained under the Carthaginian rule until Rome finally settled the question to Avhom 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 fertile territory, with a capital city of almost impregnable strength, with a constitution that insured for centuries the blessing of eo- rual Older, with an aristocracy singularly fertile in men of the t03 BATILB OF THE ME AlKLTS. highest erenius, Carthage yet failed signally and calami tously in her contest for power with Rome. One of the immediate causes of this may seem to have heen the want of firmness among hei citizens, which made them terminate the first Punic war by beg- ging peace, sooner than endure any longer the hardships and burdens caused by a state of warfare, although their antagonists had sufii-red far more severely than themselves. Another cans was the spirit of faction among their leading men, which prevent ed Hannibal in the second war from being properly re-enforced and supported. But there were also moro general causes why Carthage proved inferior to Eome. These were her position rel- atively to the mass of the inhabitants of the country which she ruled, and her habit of trusting to mercenary armies in her wars. Our clearest information as to the different races of men in and about Carthage is derived from Diodorus Siculus.* That histo rian enumerates four diflerent races : first, he mentions the Phoe- nicians who dwelt in Carthage ; next, he speaks of the Liby- Phcenicians : these, he tells us, dwelt in many of the maritime cities, and were connected by intermarriages with the Phoeni- cians, 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 JNumidians, the nomade tribes of the frontier. 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 in history of a Libyan holding political office or military command. The half-castes, the Liby-Phosnicians, seem to have been sometimes sent out as colonists ;t but it may be inferred, from what Diodorus says of their residence, that they had not the right of the citizenship ol Carthage ; and only a single solitary case occurs of one of this race being intrusted with authority, and that, too, not emanating from the home gc vernment. This is the instance of the ofiicer gent by Hanniba'. to Sicily after the fall of Syracuse, whom Po- lybiusj calls Myttinus the Libyan, but whom, from the fuller ac- count in Livy, we find to have been a Liby-Pha;nician ;^ and it is expressly mentioned what indignation was felt by the Cartha- • Vol. ii., p. 447, Wesseling's ed. t See the " Periplus" of Ilanno J Lii>. IX., 28. <) Lib. xxv., 40, BATTLE OF THE METATRUS. 103 ^^iU^A roimnanders in the island that this half-caste should con- rrcu their operations. Willi respect to the composition of their armies, it is observa- ble that, though ihirsling for extended em])ire, and though some of her leading men became generals of the highest order, the Car thaginians, as a people, wne 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 valu- a])lo time which military service would have entailed on thern- Bclves. As Michelet remarks, " The life of an industrious merchant, of a Carthaginian, was too preciovxs 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 drach- ma, 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 Spaniard. When once this tariff of blood was correctly made out, Carthage began a war as a mercantile spec- ulation. 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 re- gret 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 second Punic wars) when Carthage was brought to the very brink of desti'uction by a revolt of her foreign troops. Other mu- tinies of the sajiie kind must from time to time have occurred. Probably one of these was the cause of the comparative weak- ness of Carthage at the time of the Athenian expedition agaiu.st Syracuse, so dill'erent 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 warfare, we perceive at once the inferiority of But'h bands of condoltieri, brought together without any coininoii bond of origin, tactics, or cause, to the legions of Rome, vvliich, at the time of the Punic wars, were raised from the very liowei • " Histoire Roinaine," vol ii , p. 40. 1 04 BATTLE OF THE M E T A U R U S. oi' a hardy agri cultural population, trained in the strictest disci pliue. habituated to victory, and animated by the most resohite patriotism. And this shows, also, the transcendency of the geniua of Hannibal, which could form such discordant materials into a compact organized force, and inspire them with tnc spirit of pa- tient discipline and loyalty to their chief, so that thoy were true to him in his adverse as well as in his prosperous fortunes ; and throughout the checkered series of his campaigns, no nanic rout tver disgraced a division under his command, no mutiny, or even ttttempt at mutiny, was ev^er 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, stood firm around him, his Old Guard, till Scipio's Numidian allies came up on their flank, when at last, surrounded and overpowered, the veteran battalions sealed their devotion to their general by their hlood I " But if Hannibal's genius may be likened to the Homeric god, who, 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 human adversary in his country's cause is no unworthy image of the miyielding magnanimity displayed by the aristocracy of Rome. As Hanni- bal utterly eclipses Carthage, so, on the contrary, Fabius, M arceJ- lus, Claudius Nero, even Scipio himself, are as nothing when co'..pared to the spii'it, and wisdom, and power of Rome. The senate, which voted its thanks to its political enemy, Varro, after his disastrous defeat, ' because he had not despaired of the com- monwealth," 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 accustomed supplies of men for the army, is far more to be honored than the conqueror of Zama. This we should the more carefully bear in mind, because our tendency is to ad- mire individual greatness far more than national ; and, as no singlo Roman will bear comparison to Hannibal, we are apt tc murmur at the event of the contest, and to think that the victory was awarded to the least worthy of the combatants. On tbu contrary, never was the wisdom of God's providence more mani- fest than in tlic issue of the struggle between Rome and Carthage. * "We advanced to Waterloo as the Greeks did to TliermDpylai : all •f us without fear, and most of us without hope." — Speech of General Foy BATTLE OF THi MUIAURUS. i06 It was clearly for the good ol" mankind that Hannibal should b« conquered ; his triumph would have stopped the progress of the world ; for great men can only act permanently by forming great nations; and no one man, even though it were Hannibal him- sAi', can in one generation eflect such a work. But where the nation has been merely enkindled lor a while by a great man's ejiirit, the light passes away with him who communicated it ; atul 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 ha& ceased, the body is cold and stiif 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 Phoeni- cian city of Carthage was fitted to receive and to consolidate the civilization of Greece, or by its laws and institutions to bind to- gether barbarians of every race and language into an organized empire, and prepare them for becoming, when that empire Avas dissolved, the free members of the commonwealth of Christian Europe.'"* It was in the spring of 207 B.C. that Hasdrubal, after skill- fidly disentangling himself from the Roman forces in Spain, and after a march conducted with great judgment and little loss through the intei'ior of Gaul and the passes of tlie Alps, appear ed in the country 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 Rome 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, Has- Irubal, and Mago, like three lion's whelps, to prey upon the Ro mans. But Hannibal's latter campaigns had not been signalized by nny such great victories as marked the first years of his in- vasion of Italy. The stern spirit of Roman resolution, ever high- js', in disaster and danger, had neither bent nor despaired be- " Arnol'], vol. iii., p. 61. The above is one of the numerous bursts ol eloquence that adorn Arnold's last volume, and cause such deep rcgrel that that volume should have been the last, and its great and good auihoi bave beec cut off with his work thus incomplete. 106 BATTLE OF THE M E T A tJ R Cf ». neath the merciless LIoavs which " the dire African" dealt hot in rapid succession at Trebia, at Thrasymene, and at Cannaj Her population was thinned by repeated slaughter in the field ; poverty and actual scarcity groiind down the survivors, through the fearful ravages which Hannibal's cavalry spread through their corn-fields, their pasture lands, and their vineyards ; many oi her allies went over to the invader's side ; and new clouds of furoigr war threatened her from Macedonia and Gaul. But Rome receded not Rich and poor among her citizens vied witli each other in devotion to their country. "The wealthy placed their stores, and all placed their lives, at tVe state's disposal And though Hannibal could not be driven out of Italy, though every year brought its sufferings and sacrifices, Rome felt that her constancy had not been exerted in vain. If she was weak ened by the continued strife, so was Hannibal also ; and it was clear that the unaided resources of his army were unequal to the task of her destruction. The single deer-hound could not pul] 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 M'eary, and bleeding at every pore ; and there seemed to be little hope of her escape, if the other hound of old Ilamilcar's race should come up in time to aid his brother in the death-grapple. Hasdrubal had commanded the Carthaginian armies in Spain for some time with, varying but generally unfavorable fortune. He had not the full authority over the Punic forces in that coun try which his brother and his father had previously exercised. The faction at Carthage, which was at feud with his family, succeeded in fettering and interfering with his power ; and other generals were from time to time sent into Spain, M'hose errors and misconduct caused the reverses that Hasdrubal met with. This is expressly attested by the Greek historian Polybius, who was the intimate friend of the younger Afri.-^anus, and drew hia information respecting the second Punic war . im the best pos- sible authorities. Livy gives a long narrative o. •campaigns be- tween the Roman conmianders in Spain and Hasu i:bal, which is so palpably deformed by fictions anl exaggerations as to be hardly deserving of attention.* * See tne excellent criticisms of Sir Walter Raltjgh on tliia, in \i» "History of the World," book v., chap. iji. see 11. BATTLE OF THE METAUVaS. 107 It is cleir that, in the year 208 B.C., at least, Hasdrubal out maneuvered Pnblius Scipio, who held the command of the Ro man forces in Spain, and whose object was to prevent him from j)as.sliie noblest house in the tribe of tlie Clienisci, had been selected S3 Ht objects lor the exereise ol" this insidious system. Roman re- Iinements and dignities succeeded in denatioualiziag the brother, wlio ass^nied the Roman name of Flavins, and adhered to Rome lliroughout all her wars against his country. Armiuius remain yd inibcught by honors or wealth, uncorrnpted by refinement or luxury. He aspired to and obtained from Roman enmity a high- iv title than ever could have been given him by Roman favcr. It is in the page of Rome's greatest historian that his name has come down to us with the proud addition of " Liberator baud dubie Germanise.'"* Often must the young chieftain, while meditating the exploit which has thus immortalized him, have anxiously revolved in his mind the fate of the many great men w^ho 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 Milhradates had perished? What 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 Gauls had fruitlessly struggled for 'eight years against Caesar; and the gallant Ver- cingetorix, who in the last year of the war had roused all his countrymen to insurrection, who had cut off Roman detachments, and brought Cassar himself to the extreme of peril at Alesia — he, too, had finally succumbed, had been led captive in Ctrsar'a triumph, and had then been butchered in cold blood in a Roman dungeon. It was true that Rome was no longer the great military re- public which for so many ages had shattered the kingdoms of th 5 world. Her system of government was changed ; and after a century of revolution and civil war, she had placed herself undei the despotism of a single ruler. But the discipline of her troops was yet unimpaired, and her warlike spirit seemed uu- abated The first year of the empire had been signalized by conquests as valuable as any gained by the republic in a cor responding period. It is a great fallacy, though apparently sane- tiouod by great authorities, to suppose that the foreign policj • Tacitus, "Annals," ii.. 88. ¥2 13U VICTOR! OF AUMIMUS OVES pursued by Augustus was pacific ; he certainly retomiuende*! such a pohcy to his successors {incertum metu an per invidiam, Tag., Ann., i., 11), but he hinjself", until Arminius broke hia spirit, had followed a very different course. Besides his Spanish wars, his generals, in a series of generally aggressive oampaignn, had extended the Roman frontier from the Alps to the Danube, and had reduced into subjection the large and important coun tiics that row form the territories of all Austria south of thai TiVer. and ^f East Switzerland, Lower Wirtemberg, Bavaria, the Valtelline, and the Tyrol. While the progress of the Roman arms thus pressed the Germans from the south, still more form- idable inroads had been made by the imperial legions on the west. Roman armies, noving from the province of Gaul, established a chain of fortress s along the right as well as the left bank of the Rhine, and, in a series of victorious campaigns, advanced their eagles as far as the Elbe, which uoav seemed added to the list of vassal rivers, to the Nile, the Rhine, the Rhone, the Danube, the Tagus, the Seine, and many more, that acknowledged the supremacy of the Tiber. Roman fleets also, sailing from the harbors of Gaul along the German coasts and up the estuaries, co-operated Avith the land-forces of the empire, and seemed to display, even more decisively than her armies, her overM'helming superiority over the rude Germanic tribes. Throughout the ter- ritory thus invaded, the Romans had, with their usual military skill, established fortified posts ; and a powerful army of occu- pation was kept on foot, ready to move instantly on any spot where any popular outbreak might be attempted. Vast, however, and admirably organized as the fabric of Ro- man power appeared on the frontiers and in the provinces, there was rottenness at the core. In Rome's unceasing hostilities with foreign foes, and si ill more in her long series of desolating civil wars, the free middle classes of Italy had almost wholly disap- peared Above the position which they had occupied, an oli- garchy of wealth had reared itself; beneath that position, a de- graded iviass of poverty and misery was fermenting. Slaves, the jhance sweepings 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 mannc's was general in all ranks. In universal weariness of revolution and civil war, and in consciousness of being too de- T 11 t; i; O M AN L E 'J I O X 6 J N L K i; VARUS. ] 3 i based fur sell-govenuneiil, the uutiou had submitted itself to the aboolii*) authority of" Augustus. Adulation was now the chief function of the senate; I'lid the gilts of genius and accomplish' meuts of ait were devote.l to the elaboration of eloquently false panegyrics upon the prince and his favorite cou tiers. With bit- ter indignation mus+ the German chieftain have beheld all this, ond contrasted with it the rough worth of his own countryrn.n : thrir bravery, their lidelity to their word, their manly indepcnd- en.:e of spirit, their love of their national free institutions, aud their loathing of every pollution and meanness. Above all, he must have thought of the domestic virtues that hallowed a Ger- man home ; of the respect there shown to the female character, and of the pure afiection by which that respect was repaid. His Boul must have burned within him at the contemplation of such a race yielding to these debased Italians. Still, to persuade the Germans to combine, in spite of their frequent feuds among themselves, in one sudden outbreak against Rome ; to keep the scheme concealed from the Romans until the hour for action arrived ; and then, without possessing a single walled town, without military stores, without training, to teach his insurgent countrymen to defeat veteran armies and storm for- tifications, seemed so perilous 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 zealous partisans of Roman authority, was a chieftain named Segestes. His daughter, Thusnelda, was pre-eminent among the noble maidens of Germany. Arminius had sought her hand in marriage ; but Segestes, who probably discerned the young chiefs disaflection to Rome, forbade his suit, and strove to preclude all communication between him and his daughter. Thusnelda, how- ever, sympathized far more with the heroic spirit of hci lover than with the time-serving policy of her father. An elopement baflk'J the precautions of Segestes, who, disappointed in his hope of preventing the marriage, accused Arminius before the Rcimaii gtjvevnor of having carried oil" his daughter, and of planning liil)car quoting Manaulay's beautiful lines, where he de Dcribes iioiv similar ouliages in tiie early times of Rome goa'led ttiP pl» brians to rise again.sl the jiatiicinns : ' Tlf-ap heavier still the fellers ; bar c\ )ser slill the grate ; I'.ilient as sheep we yield js up unto your cruel hate. Bui l)y the siiudes beneath us, and by the gods above, Add net unto yeiii cruel hale your still more cruel lova THE ROMAN LEGIONS UNDER VARUS. 1 1. 3 Rial ol" an army sets the example of outrages of tliis descripiioii, ho is soon faithfully imitated by his ollicers, and surpiissed hy hip siiij more brutal soldiery. Th<^ Romans now habituiilly indulged m those violations of the sanctity of the domestic shrine, and those insults upon honor and modesty, by which far less gallant spirits than those of our Teutonic ancestors have oftea been mad • dcnad into insurrection. Arminius found among the other German chiefs many whc i}Tnj)athized with him in his indignation at their country's abase Hient, and many whom private Avrongs had stung yet more deep iy. There "was little ditliculty in collecting bold leaders ibr an httack on the oppressors, and little fear of the population not rising readily at those leaders' call. But to declare open wai against Rome, and to encounter Varus'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 foi detachments, can not be estimated at less than fourteen thou- sand Roman infantry. He had also eight or nine hundred Roman cavalry, and at least an equal number of horse and foot sent from the allied states, or raised among those provincials who had not received the Roman franchise. It Avas not merely the number, but the quality of this force that made thorn formidable ; and, however contemptible Varun might be as a general, Arminius well knew how admirably the Roman armies were organized and officered, and how perfectly the legionaries understood every maneuver and evei'y duty which the varying emergencies of a stricken field might require. Strat- agem was, therefore, indispensable ; and it was necessary to blnid Varus to their schemes until a favorable opportunity should ar- rive for striking a decisive blow. tor this purpose, the German confederates frequented the head Then leave the poor plebeian his single lie to life — The sweet, sweet love of dautrhter, of si.ster, and ■>( wife, The gentle speech, the hahii for all thai iiis vex'u soul endures, The kiss in which he half forgets even siicli a yoke as yours. Still let the maiden's beauty swell the father's breast witi pride ; Still let the bridegroom's arms cnfidd an unpolhitrd bride. Spare us the inexpiable wrong, tlie unutterable shame, That turns the coward's lieart lo steel, the sluggard's blood to name ■ Lest when our latest hope is fled ye taste of our despair, And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched dark 1 ;J4 V I C T O R Y O F A R .M I M C 5 U V E K quart* rs of Varus, wliich seem to have been near the centre ol the modern coiuitiy of Westphalia, where the Roman general conducted himself with all the arrogant securitj' of the governor of a perfectly submissive province. There Varus gratified at onco his vanity, his rhetorical tastes, and his avarice, by holding nourts, to which he summoned the Germans for the settlement of all their disputes, while a bar of Roman advocates attended to argue the cases before the tribunal of Varus, who did not omit the opportunity of exacting court-fees and accepting bribes. Varus trusted implicitly to the respect which the Germans pre- tended to pay to his abilities as a judge, and to the interest which they affected to take in the forensic eloquence of their conquerors. Meanwhile, a su'^cession of heavy rains rendered the country more difficult for the operations of regular troops, and Arminius, seeing that the infatuation 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 repre- sented to Varus as an occasion which required his prompt attend- ance at the spot ; but he was kept in studied ignorance of its being part of a concerted national rising ; and he still looked on Arminius as his submissive vassal, Avhose aid he might rely on in facilitating the march of his troops against the rebels, and in ex- tinguishing the local disturbance. He therefore set his army 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 on 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 diflerent character ; and here, in the territory of the mod- ern 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 re- gion still retains the name (Teutoberger wald = Teutobergiensie eallus) which it bore in the days of Arminius. The nature of Ihe ground has probably also remained unaltered. The eastern :>art of it, round Dclniold, the modern capital of the principality of Lippe, is described by a modern German scholar, ±)r. Plat.?, a:i being a " lable-land intersected by numeious deep and narrow valleys, which in some places form small plains, surrounded b) oteep innur-.tains and rocks, and only accessible by narrow defilea THE ROMAU LEGIONS UNDER VARUS. 133 All the valleys are traversed by rapid streams, shallow ii the dry season, but, subjeet to fjuddeii swellings in autunui and witi- (or. The vast forests which cover the summit? and slopes of the l.iUs consist chiefly of oak ; there is little underwood, and both mon and horse would move with ease in the i'orests if the grounc' were not broken by gfulleys, or rendered impracticable by fallen trees." This is the district to which Varus is supposed to havo marched ; and Dr. Plate adds, that " the names of several locali- ties on and near that spot seem to indicate that a great battle Ins once been fought there. We find the names ' dasWinnefeld' {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 followers, as if his troops had been merely changing their quar ters in a friendly country. When the long array quitted the firr:j level ground, and began to wind its way among the woods, the marshes, and the ravines, the difficulties of the march, even with- out 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 duties of the engineer were familiar to all who served in the Roman armies. But the crowd and confusion of the colunuia embarrassed 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 was attacked by the barbarians. Varus resolved on pressing forward ; but a heavy discharge of missiles from the woods on either flank taught him hoAV serioua was the peril, and he saw his best men falling round him with* out the opportunity of retaliation ; for his light-armed auxiliaries, who were principally of Germanic race, now rapidly deserted, an<; it was impossible to deploy the legionaries on sn^-h broket ground fi;i- a charge against the enemy. Choosing onr of the most o'Cii and firm spots which thoy could force tiieir way to, the Romans halted for the night ; and, faithful to tneir national * I am indebted fur much valuable informalion on lli,3 Bubject to taj frierd, Mr. Henry Pearson. 136 VICTORY OF A R M I N I U S O V E K discipline and tactics, formed theii f a np amid th". harassing al tacks of the rapid y thronging foet, 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 tlie olden time of the imperial eagles. On the morrow the Romans renewed their march, the \'etevan •jlFiccTS who served under Varus now probably directing the op ?valirjns, and hoping to find the Germans drawn up to meet thi'm in which case they relied on their own superior discipline and tactics for such a victory as should reassure the supremacy of Rome. But Arminius was far too sage a commander to lead or 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 com- mence 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 cooltiess, and obeying each word of command in the midst of st'ife and slaugh- ter with the same precision and alertness as if upon parade.* Arminius sufiered 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 strug- gling with difficulty through the broken ground, the toil and dis- tress 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 in- vaders. After some little time their van approached a ridge of high woody ground, which is one of the offshoots of the great Hercynian forest, and is situate between the modern villages of Driburg and Bielefeld. Arminius had caused barricades of hewn trees to be formed here, so as to add to the natural difficu.ties of the passage. Fatigue and discouragement n.nv began to betiay themselves in the Roman ranks. Th«ir line became less steady ; Inggage-wagons were abandoned from the impossibility of forcing Ihem along ; and, as this haj pened many soldiers left their /anka • See Gibbon's descrip'ion (vol. i , clmp i.) of tbe Roman regions it ihe tune of Anawslus ; and see Uie ilescriplior. in Tacilus, " Ann.," lib \ Bf the subspqnent battles between Caicina and Arminius. THt «.OMAN LEGIONS UNDER VAS.U8. 131 and crowded round the wagons to secure the most valnahle por« lions ol' their property : each was busy about his own ad'airs, and purposely slow in hearing the word ol' couiiuand IVom his olhcerfc. Armiu'us now gave the signal lor a general attack. The fierce shouts of the Germans pealed through the gloom of the fcrcK^ts, and ir. thronging multitudes they assailed the flanks cf the in va iei'H, pouring in clouds of darts on the encumbered legionaries, a.5 they struggled up the glens or fljiaidered in the morasses, and ';^'atohing every opportunity of charging through the intervals of the disjointed column, and so cutting off" the communication be- tween its several brigades. Arminius, with a chosen band of per- sonal retainers round him, cheered on his countrymen by voien and example. He and his men aimed their weapons particularly at the horses of the lioman cavalry. The wounded animals, slip ping 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 the troops to be countermarched, in the hope of reaching the nearest Roman garrison on the Lippe.* But retreat now was as impracticable as advance ; and the fall- ing baf'k of the Romans only augmented the courage of their as- sailants, and caused fiercer and more frequent charges on the flanks e,f the disheartened army. The Roman officer who eon manded the cavalry, Numonius Vala, rode off with his squadrons in the vain hope of escaping by thus abandoning his comrade's. Unable to keep together, or force their way across the woods and Bwamps, the horsemen were overpowered in detail, and slaugh- tered to the last man. The Roman infantry still held together and resisted, but more through the instinct of discipline and bravery than from any hope of success or escape. Varus, altei * The circumstances of the early part of tlie battle which Ariiiinius fdiisjht with Cjecina six years afterward evidently resembled those of his baiilp wth Varus, and the result was very near being the same: I have therefore adopted part of the descrijjtion which Tacitus gives (" Annal ," lib. ]., c. 65) of the last-mentioned engagement : " Neque tamen Arminius, .jiiaiiiqiiam libero incursu, statim prurupi; : sed ut hjesere cocno fossisque impedimenta, fnbali circum milites ; incerlus signorum ordo ; uique tali in lempDre sibi quisque properus, et Icntae adversum mperia aurcs, if ruin- ptre Gerinanos jubet, claniitans * En varus, el eodem iterum falo victa legiiinea!' Simul ba>c, et cum deleclis sciiidit agmen, equisque ma.vimfi vulnera ingerit ; illi sanguine suo et lubrioo paludum lapsa:;les, excLSsii rectorihus, disjicere obvios, proterere jacentes " \ob VICTORY OF ARAIl.UUS OVER being severelj^ wounded in a charge of the Germans against hii part of the column, committed suicide to avoid falling into the handa of those whom he had exasperated by his oppression* One of the lieutenant generals of the army fell fighting ; the ot.hoi Eurrendered 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 suf fciing, 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 preserved to perish by a more cruel death in cold blood. The bulk of the Roman army fought steadily and stubbornly, frequently repelling the masses of the assailants, but gradually losing the compactness of thrir array, and becoming weaker and weaker beneath the incessant shoM'er of darts and the reiterated assaults of the vigorous and unencumbered Germans. At last, in a series of desperate attacks, the column was pierced through and through, two of the eagles captured, and the Roman host, which on the yester morning had marched forth iir such pride and might, now broken up into confused fragments, either fell fighting beneath the overpowering numbers of the enemy, oi perished in the swamps and woods in unavailing eflbrts 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 charge of the Germans, and prolonged their honorable r'^sistance 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 Avhere the last of the Romans passed their night of suffering and desjiair But on the morrow, this remnant al.so, worn out with hunger, wounds, and toil, was charged by the victorious Germans, and either massacred on the spot, or oflored ujt in fearful rites at the altars of the deities of the old mythol- ogy of the North. A gorge in the mountaii:. ridge, through which runs the modern" yoad between Paderborn and Pyrniont, leads from the spot wheie the heat of the battle raged to the Exterstcine, 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 tc lofi B A T T I- i: OF C H A L C V S . lieve that swarms of these nations made their way into distant parts of the earth, at periods long before the date of the f^eythian invasion of Asia, which is the earhest 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 Finnisli and Ugrian tribes, w^ho appear to have come down from the Altaic border of High Asia toward the northwest, in which direction they ad- vanced to the Uralian Mountains. There they established thon> selves ; and that mountain chain, with its valleys and pasture lands, became to them a new country, whence they sent out col- onies on every side ; but the Ugrian colony, which, under Arpad, occupied Hungarj^ and became the ancestors of the bulk of the present Hungarian nation, did not quit their settlements on the Uralian Mountains till a very late period, and not until four cen- turies after the time when Attila led from the piimary 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 Fimio-Ugrian set- tlers 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 le- gends of the nations whom he afflicted with his arms, that we draw the unquestionable evidence of his greatness. Besides the express narratives of Byzantine, 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 German 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 composed and delighted in them. Attila's ex- ploits, and the wonders of his unearthly steed and magic sword, repeatedly occur in the Sagas of Norway and Iceland ; and the celebrated Niebelungen Lied, the most ancient of Germanic po etry, is full of them. There Etsel, or Attila, is described as the wearer of twelve mighty crowns, and as promising to his bride the lands of thirty kings, whom his ii'resistible sword hid sub- ♦ See Frieliard's "Researches into the Physical History of Man BATTLE OF CHALONS. 150 dued. He is, in fact, the hero of the latter part of this remark- able poem ; and it is at his capital city. Etseleuburgh, which ev- idently corresponds to the modern Buda that mucli of its action takes place. When we turn from the legendary to tlie liistoric Attila, wo Bce clearly that he was not one of the vulgar herd of barbaric conquerors. Consummate military skiU may be traced in liia i^ampaigns ; and he relied far less on the brute force of armies [hi the aggrandizement of his empire, than on the unbounded in- fluence 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 of warriors for hardiliood, strength, and skill in every mar- tial exercise — grave and deliberate in counsel, but rapid and re- morseless in execution, 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 watch- ed the national passions, the prejudices, the creeds, and the super- stitions of the varied nations over which he ruled, and of those which he sought to reduce beiicath his sway : all these feelings he had the skill to turn to his own account. His own warriors be- lieved liim to be the inspired favorite of their deities, and followed him with fanatic zeal ; his enemies looked on him as the pre-ap- pointed minister of heaven's wrath against themselves ; and though they beheved not in his creed, their own made them tremble be- fore him. In one of his early campaigns he appeared before his troops with an ancient iron sword in his grasp, which he told them was the god of war whom their ancestors had worshiped. It is cer tain that the nomadic tribes of Northern Asia, whom Herodotui; described under the name of Scythians, from the earliest times worshiped as their god a bare sword. That sword-god M'as sup posed, in Attila's time, to have disappeared from earth ; but tho Humush king now claimed to have I'eceived it by special revela tiou. It Avas said that a herdsman, who was tracking in the deS' crt a wounded heifer by the drops of blood, found the mysterious »wc?d standing fixed in the ground, as if it had darted down from heaven. The herdsman bore it to Atiila, who thencefortl) waa beheved by the Huns to wield the Spirit of Death in battle and their seers prophesied that that sword was to destroy the world lew BATTLE OF CHALONS. A Roman,* who was on an embassj to the Hunnish camp, record p(l in his memoirs Attila's acouisition of this supernatural weapon, and the immense iiifluence over Ihe minds ot" the ba.rbaric tribes which its possession gave him. In the title which he assumbd we shall see th'i siciU with which he availed himself of the legends and cr'^ods of other nations as well as of his own. He designated iumself " Attila, Descendant of the Great Nimrod. Nurtured iu 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 Antiochus Epiphanes over the gates of Antioch, though it has been called the visage of Charon. The memorj^ of Nimrod was certainly regarded with mystic veneration by many ; and by asserting himself to be the heir of that mighty Jmnter before the Lord, he vindicated to himself at least the M'hole Babylonian kingdom. " The singular assertion in his style, that he was nurtured in Engaddi, where he certainly had never been, will be more easily understood on reference to the twelfth chapter of the Book of Revelations, 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 rule all nations with a rod of iron. This prophecy was at that time understood universally by the sincere Christians to refer to the birth of Con Btantine, 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 have regarded it as a foretelling of the birth of that Great One who should master the temporal power of Rome. The assertion, therefore, that he was nurtured 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 plac3 of palms and vines in the desert ; it was hard by Zoar, the fity of refug(!, whi< h was saved ir the Vale of Siddim, or Demon&i • Priacus apud Jornajndem iSATTLE OF CHALONS. J(ji when the rest were destroyed by fire and briinsto.io fiom the Lord ill 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 diffi- cult to see why he added the names of the Medes and the Dane? His armies liad been engaged in warfare against the Persian Kingdom of the Sassanida;, and it is certain* that he meditated the invasion and overthrow of the Medo-Persian power. Proba- bly some of the northern provinces of that kingdom had been compelled to pay him tribute ; and this would account for his Btyling himself King of the Medes, they being his remotest sub- •ects to the south. From a similar cause, he may have called nimself King of the Danes, as his power may well have extend- ed northward as far as the nearest of the Scandinavian nations , and this mention of Medes and Danes as his subjects would servo at once to indicate the vast extent of his dominion.! The immense territory north of the Danube and Black Sea and eastward of Caucasus, over which Attila ruled, first in con- junction with his brother Bleda, and afterward alone, can not be very accurately defined, but it must have comprised within it, l)esides the Huns, many nations of Slavic, Gothic, Teutonic, and Finnish origin. South also of the Danube, the country, from the River Sau as far as Novi in Thrace, was a Hunnish prov- ince. Such was the empire of the Huns in A.D. 445 ; a mem- orable year, in which Attila founded Buda on the Danube as his capital city, and ridded himself of his brother by a crime wliich seems to have been prompted not only by selfish ambition, but also by a desire of turning to his purpose the legends and fore- bodings which then were universally spread throughout the Ro- man empire, and must have been aacII known to the watchful and ruthless Hun. The year 445 of our era completed the twelfth century from the foundation of Rome, according to the best chronologers. It had always been believed among the Romans that the twelve * See the narrative of Priscus. t In tlie " Niebelungen Lied," the old poet vpho describes the reception of the lieroine Chrimhild by Attila [Etsel], says that Attila's dominion* were so vast, that among his subject- warriors there were Russian, Greek, Wallachian, Polish, and even Danish knights. 102 BATTLE OF JHALONj. vultures, which, were said to have appeared to Uomulus whas he founded the city, signified the time during which the Roman power should endure. The twelve vultures denoted twelve cen turies. This interpretation of the vision of the birds of destiny was current among learned Romans, even when there were 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 uearer and nearer to its conclusion, and as Rome grew weaker ' and weaker beneath the blows of barbaric invaders, the terrible omen was more and more talked and thought of; and iu Attila's time, men watched for the momentary extinction of the Roman state with the last beat of the last vulture's wing. Moreover, among the numerous legends connected with the foundation of the city, and the fratricidal deatVi of Remus, there was one most terrible one, which told that Romulus did not put his brother t.o death in accident or in hasty quarrel, but that " He slew his gallant twin With inexpiable sin," deliberately, and in compliance with the warnings of supernat- ural powers. The shedding of a brother's blood was believed to have been the price at which the founder of Rome 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 Rome, the inhab- itants of the Roman 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 Romulus, had consecrated the foundations of his new city by murdering his brother ; so that i'or 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 Roman It is to be remembered that not only the pagans, but also the Christians of that age, knew and believed in these legends and omens, however they might difi'er as to the nature of the super- human agency by which such mysteries had been made known ♦ See a curious justification of Attila for murdering his brother, by a tcaloiis Hungarian advocate, in the note to Pray's " Annales flunnoriim,'' .» 117. 'I'lie example of Romulus is the mam authority (juoJed. -BATTLE OF CHALONS. 163 ■» mankind. And we may observe, with Herbert, a uiodern learned dignitary of our church, how remarkably this augury waa fulfilled ; for " if to the twelve centuries denoted by the twelve vultures that appeared to Romulus, we add for the six birds that appeared to Rorims six lustra, or periods of five years each, b} •which the Romans were wont to number their time, it biings ua precisely to the year 476, in which the Roman empire was finally exUnguished by Odoacer." An attempt to assassinate Attila, made, or supposed to hav*» been made, at the instigation of Theodoric the younger, the Em- peror of Constantinople, drew the Ilunnish 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 Black Sea against Attila, which broke out about this period, and is cur- sorily mentioned by the Byzantine Avriters. Attila quelled this revolt, and having thus consolidated his power, and having pun ished the presumption of the Eastern Roman emperor by fearlul ravages 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 Rome, and he re- solved first to crush the power of Theodoric, and then to advance with overwhelming power to trample out the last sparks of thp doomed Roman empire. A strange invitation from a Roman princess gave him a pre text for the war, and threw an air of chivalric enterprise over his invasion. Honoria, sister of Valentinian III., the Emperor of the West, had sent to Attila to offer him her hand and her supposed right to share in the imperial power. This had been discovered by the Romans, and Honoria had been forthwith closely impris- oned. Attila now pretended to take up arms in behalf of his Belfpromised bride, and proclaimed that he was about to march ♦o Rome to redress Honoria's wrongs. Ambition and spite against hftr brother must have been the sole motives that led the lady tc TToo the royal Hun ; for Attila's face and person had all the nataral ugliness of his race, and the description given of him by a Byzantine embassador must have been well known in the im- perial courts. Herbert has well versified the portrait drawn by Priscus of the great enemy of both Byzantium and Rome : 1 64 battleofchalons "Terrii. 3 was his semblance, in no mold Of beautiful proportion cast ; his limbs Nothing exalted, but viith sinews braced Of Chalybcean temper, agile, lithe, And swifter than the roe ; his ample chest Was overbrovv'd by a gigantic head, With eyes keen, deeply sunk, and small, that gleaai'd Strangely in wrath as though some spirit unclean Within that corporal tenement install'd Look'd from its windows, but with temper'd fire Beam'd mildly on the unresisting. Thin His beard and hoary ; his flat nostrils crown'd A cicatrized, swart visage ; but, withal, That questionable shape such glory wore That mortals quail'd beneath him." Two chiefs of the Franks, who were then settled on the Lo'w- er Rhine, were at this period engaged in a feud with each other; and while one of them appealed to the Romans for aid, the other invoked the assistance and protection of the Huns. Attila thus obtained an ally whose co-operation secured for him the passage of the Rhine, and it was this circumstance which caused him to take a northward route from Hungary for his attack upon Gaul. The muster of the Hunnish hosts was swollen by warriors of ev- ery tribe that they had subjugated ; nor is there any reason to euspect the old chroniclers of willful exaggeration in estimating A.ttila's army at seven hundred thousand strong. Having crossed the Rhine probably a little below Coblentz, he defeated the King of the Burgutidians, who endeavored to bar his progress. 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 Besanfon, and other towns in the country of the Burgundians. One of the latest and best biographers of Attila* well observes, that, " having thus con- quered the eastern part of France, Attila prepared for an inva- gion of the West Gothic territories beyond the Loii'e. He mai'ched upon Orleans, where he intended to force the passage of tliat riv- er, and only a little attention is requisite to enable us to perctive 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 * Biographical Dictionary commenced by the Useful Knowledge Soei «tv in 1844. BATTLE OF C H A L O N 6.1j08 A^gei^i ^ ' 16J OH the south for the purpose of preventing the Burgandians from rallying, and of menacing the passes of the Alps from Italy ; and he led his centre towrd the chief object of the campaign — the conquest of Orleans, and an easy passage into the West Gothic dominion. The whole plan is very like that of the allied powers in 1814, with this dill'erence, that their left wing entered France through the defiles of the Jura, in the direction of Lyons, and that the military object of the campaign Avas 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 Roman general Aetius had strenuously exerted himself in col- lecting and organizing such an army as might, when united to the soldiery of the Visigoths, be fit to face the Huns in the field. He enlisted every subject of the Roman empire whom patriotism, courage, or compulsion could collect beneath the standards ; and round these troops, which assumed the once proud title of the legions of Rome, he arrayed the large forces of barbaric auxilia- ries, whom pay, persuasion, or the general hate and dread of the Huns brought to the camp of the last of the Roman generals. King Theodoric exerted himself with equal energy. Orleans resisted her besiegers bravely as in after times. . The passage of the Loire was skillfully defended against the Huns ; and Ae- tius and Theodoric, after much maneuvering and difficulty, ef- fected a junction of their armies to the south 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 therefore fell back upon his base of operations, calhng in his wings from Arras and Besan^on, 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 point 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'a strength pecunarly lay. It was dm"ing the retreat from Orleans that a Christian her- mit is reported to have approached the Hunnish king, and said to him, '' Thou art the Scourge of God for the chastisement oi lb6 B A T T I. E O F C II A L O X =. the ChriBliaiis." Attila instantly aspumed this ik.w title of ler ror, which thenceforth became the appellation by which lie wai most widely and most fearfully known. The confederate armies of Romans and Visigoths at last met their great aJversaiy face to face on the ample battle-gi vmd of the Chalons plains. Aetius commanded on the right of the al- lies ; King Theodoric on the left ; and Sangipan, king of the Alans, whose fidelity was suspected, was placed purposely in tha centre, and in the very front of the battle. Attila commanded his centre in person, at the head of his' own countrymen, while the Ostrogotlis, the Gepidaj, and the other subject allies of the Huns were drawn up on the wings. Some maneuvering appears to have occurred before the engagement, in which Aetius had the advantage, inasmuch as he succeeded in occupying a sloping hill, which commanded the left flank of the Huns. Attila saw the importance of the position taken by Aetius on the high ground, and commenced the battle by a furious attack on this part of the Roman hne, in which he seems to have detached some of hin best troops from his centre to aid his left. The Romans, having the advantage of the ground, repulsed the Huns, and while the allies gained this advantage on their right, their left, under King Theodoric, assailed the Ostrogoths, who formed the right of At- tila'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 con- fusion. But the Visigoths, infuriated, not dispirited, by their monarch's fall, routed the enemies opposed to them, and then wheeled upon the flank of the Hunnish centre, which had been engaged in a sanguinary and indecisive contest with the Alans. In this peril Attila made his centre fall back upon his camp ; and when the shelter of its intrenchmcnts 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 un defeated, but his right had been routed, and his centre forced back upon his camp. Expecting an assault on the morrow, Attila stationed his best archers in front of the cars and wagons, which were drawn up as a fortification along his lines, and made every preparation for BATTLE OF CHALONS. 107 & desperate lislstance. But the *' Scourge of God" resolved that no man should hoast of the honor of having either captured or slain him, aud he caused to be raised in the centre of his en- campment 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 stationed 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, ehould they succeed in storming his defenses. But when the morning broke and revealed the extent of the carnage with which the plains were heaped for miles, the success- ful allies saw also and respected the resolute attitude of their an- tagonist. Neither were any measures taken to blockade him in his camp, and so to extort by famine 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 molest- ation, and even with the semblance of success. It is probable that the crafty Aetius was unwilling to be too victorious. He dreaded the glory which his allies the Visigoths had acquired, and feared that Rome might find a second A.laric in 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 dan- gerous friend, as well as of a formidable though beaten foe. At fill's attacks on the Western empire were soon renewed, but 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 waa soon dissevered by the successful revolts of the subject nations The name of the Huns ceased for some centuries to inspire terror hi Western Europe, and their ascendency passed away with the life of the great king by whom it had been so fearfully aug- mented.* • If I seem to have given fewer of the details of the battle itself than its importance would warrant, my excuse must be, that Gibbon has en- riched our language with a description of it, too long for quotation and too splendid for rivalrv I have not, however, taken altogether the same view of it that he has. The notes to Mr. Herbert's poem of " Attila ' bring to gether nearly all the authorities on the 8ubje<'t. 168 SVNuP&lfe Of EVENTS, ETC. SYNofSTS OF Events between the Battle of Ciial:in«, A 1) 451, AND THE Battle of Tours, A.D. 732. A.D. 476. The Roman empire of the West extinguished fcj Odoacer. 481. Establishment of the French monarchy in Gaul by Ciovia. 455-592. The Saxons, Angles, and Frisians conquer Britain, except the northern parts and the districts along the west coast. The German conquerors found eight independent kingdoms. 533—568. The generals of Justinian, the Emperor of Constan tinople, conquer Italy and North Africa ; and these countries are for a short time annexed to the Roman 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 u driven from Mecca, and is received as prince of Medina. 629-632. Mohammed conquers Arabia. 632—651. The Mohammedan Arabs invade and conquer I'ersniL 632-709. They attack the Roman empire of the East, Thej conquer Syria, Egypt, and Africa. 709-713. They croai the Strait§ of Gibraltar, and inTftde nuL aoaquer Spain. BATTLE OF TOUr.S. 'if CHAPTER Vll. THE BATT'^.E OF TOURS, A.D. 732 The events that rescued our ancestors of Britain and our neighbors ol 'aul from the civil and relijjicus yoke of tlie Koran. — Gibbon. The broad tract of cliampaign country which intervenes be- tween the cities of Poictiers and Tours is principally composed of a succession of rich pastu>-e lands, which are traversed and fertil- ized by the Cher, the Creyge, the Vienne, the Claine, the Indre, and other tributaries of the River Loire. Here and there the ground swells into pictui-iaque 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 gen- eral character of the land is that of a grassy plain, and it seems naturally adapted for the evolutions 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 Rome, and preceded the consohdation 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 hav- ing 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 mod- ern civilization, and re-established the old superiority of the Indo- European over the Semitic family of mankind. Sismondi and Michelet have underrated the enduring interest of tliis great Appeal of Battle between the champions of the Cies- cout and the Cross. But, if French writers have slighted the ex- ploits of their national hero, the Saracenic trophies of Charles Martel have had full justice done to them by English and Ger- man historians. Gibbon devotes several pages of his great work* * Vol. vii , p. 17, et scq. Gibbon's sneering remark, that if the Saracen conquests had not then been checked, " perhaps the interpretation of the Koran would now be taught in the sehooife of Oxford, and her pn)pitir H 170 BATTLE OF TOURS. to the narrative of the battle of Tours, and to thti consideration jf the consequences which probably would have resulted if Atder- rahinan's enterprise had not been crushed by the Frankish chief. Schlegel* speaks of this " mighty victory" in terms of fervent gratitude, anc" teUs how " the arm of Charles Martel saved -snd delivered the Christian nations of the West from the deadly gitu-p of aU-destroying Islam ;" and E-ankef points out, as " one of the most important epochs in the history of the world, the commence ment of the eighth century, when on the one side Mohammedan- ism threatened to overspread Italy and Gaul, and on the other the ancient idolatry of Saxony and Friesland once more forced its way across the Rhine. In this peril of Christian institutions, a youth- ful prince of Germanic race, Karl MarteU, arose as their cham- pion, maintained them with aU the energy which the necessity for self-defense calls forth, and finally extended them into new re- gions." Amoldl ranks the victory of Charles Martel even higher than the victory of Arminius, " among those signal deliverances which have affected for centuries the happiness of mankind." In fact, the more we test its importance, the higher we shall be led to es- timate it ; and, though all authentic details which we possess of its circumstances and its heroes are but meagre, we can trace enough of its general character to make us watch with deep in- terest this encounter between the rival conquerors of the decaying Roman empire. That old classic world, the history of which oc- cupies so large a portion of our early studies, lay, in the eighth centurj' of our era, utterly exanimate and oA^erthrown. On the north the German, on the south the Arab, was rending a"way its provinces. At last the spoilers encountered one another, each striving for the full mastery of tlie prey. Their conflict brouglit back upon the memory of Gibbon the old Homeric simile, where the strife of Hector and Patroclus over the dead body of Ccbriones is compared to the corabat of two lions, that in their hate ami hunger fight together on the mountain tops over the carcass of a slaughtered stag ; and the reluctant yielding of the Saracen pow- mighl dcmonstiate to a circumcised people liie sanctity and truth of ttie revelation of Mdjiamined," has almost an air of regie*. • " Pliil()so|)i)y of History," p. 331. t ''History oftiie Reformation in Germany," vol. i , p. 5. t "History of the later Roman Commonwealth." •ol ii., p. 817- I SA TTLE OF TOURS. 17 i ir lo the superior might of the Northern warriors might not iii' aptly recall those other lines of the same book of the Iliad, where tho downfall ol" Patrocius beneath Hector is likened to the forced yielding of the panting and exhausted wild boar, that had long a.id iviriously fought with a superior beast of prey for the posses- bIou of the scanty fountain among the rocks at which each burned to drirdv.* Allhough three centuries had passed away since the Gevmau- ii conquerors of Korne had crossed the Rhine, never to rcpa^a that frontier stream, no settled system of institutions or govern- ment, 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. Gau) was not yet France. In that, as in other provinces of the Ro- man empire of the West, the dominion of the Cajsars had been shattered as early as the fifth century, and barbaric kingdoms and principalities had promptly arisen on the ruins of the Ro- man power. But few of these had any permanency, and none of them consolidated the rest, or any considerable number of the rest, into one coherent and organized civil and political society. The great bulk of the population still consisted of the conquered provincials, that is to say, of Romanized Celts, of a Gallic race which had long been under the dominion of the Ctcsars, and had acquired, together with no slight infusion of Roman blood, the language, the literature, the laws, and the civilization of Latium. Among these, and dominant over them, roved or dwelt the Ger man victors ; some retaining nearly all the rude independence of their primitive national character, others softened and di.sci- plined by the aspect and contact of the manners and nistitutiona of civilized life ; for it is to be borne in mind that the Roman Birjpire in tlie West was not crushed by any sudden avalanche Aeovd' uc, drjpivQfjTTjv, 'Qr' opcof KOi)vt 174 BATTLE or TOURS. A-frica and Spain, whose ready valor and generosity had made him tlie idol of the troops, who had already been engaged in sev' oral ex])editio\is into Gaul, so as to be well acquainted with the national character and tactics of the Franks, and who was known to thirst, like a good Moslem, for revenge for the slaughter of some detachments of the True Believers, which had been cut off )u the north of the Pyrenees. In addition to his cardinal military virtues, Abderrahman ia described by the Arab writers as a model of integrity and justice. The first two years of his second administration in Spain were occupied in severe reforms of the abuses which under his prede- cessors had crept into the system of government, and in exten- sive preparations for his intended conquest 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 chron- iclers 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 Eu- des, the Count of Aquitaine, had vainly striven to cheek it, after many strong cities had fallen before it, and half the land had been overrun, that Gaul 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 AuBtrasian Franks, the bravest and most thoroughly Ger- manic part of the nation, and exercised, in the name of the titu- lar king, what little paramount authority the turbulent minor rulers of districts and towns could be persuaded or compelled to acknowledge. Engaged with his national competitors in perpet- ual conflicts for power, and in more serious struggles for safety against the fierce tribes of the unconverted Frisians, Bavarians, Saxons, aud Thuringiaus, who at that epoch assailed with pecu- » Martel — The Hammer See tlic Scandinavian Sagas for an accounf of the favorite weapon )fThor. BATTLE OF TOURS 17(5 jar ferocity the Christianized Germans on the left bank of the Rhnie, 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 admi- ration of his victory at Tours, we do not judge a little too much by llie event, and whether there was not rashness in his risking ihe fate of France on the result of a general battle wilh the in- vaders. But when we remember that Charles had no standing aiTny, and the independent spirit of the Frank warriors who fol- l";wed his standard, it seems most probable that it was not in hia power to adopt the cautious policy of watching the invaders, and wearing out their strength by delay. So dreadful and so wide- spread were the ravages of the Saracenic light cavalry through- out 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 period of a military expedition had expired. If, indeed, the Arab account of the disorganization of the Moslem forces be correct, the battle was as well timed on the part of Charles, as it was, beyond all question, well fought. The monkish chroniclers, from M'hom we are obliged to glean a narrative of this memorable campaign, 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 mul- titudes that no man could reckon or estimate them. They brought with them all their armor, and whatever they had, as if they were thenceforth always to dwell in France.* " Then Abderrahman, seeing the land filled with the multi- tude of his army, pierces through the mountains, tramples over rough and level ground, plunders far into the country of the Franks, and smites all with the sword, insomuch that when * " Lors issirent d'Espaigne li Sarrazins. el iin lenr Roi qui avuit nnm Abdirames, el onl leur fames et leur enfans el toule Iciir suhslance en si grand plciile que mis ne le prevoit nomhier ne eslimer: tout li.'ui liarnoie et qiianqufs il avoient amenement avec entz, aussi comme si lis deuaseol tonjours mes iiabitor en France." 176 BATTLE or TOURS, Eudo ;ame 1o battle with him at the River Garonne, and fled before him. God ^.lone kuoM-g the number of the slain. Tlien Abderrahmau jjursued after Count Eudo, and whii*^ he strives to spoil and burn the holy shrine at Tours, he encounters the chief of the Austrasian Franks, Charles, a man of w^ar from his youth up, to whom Eudo had sent warning. There for nearly seven days they strive intensely, and at last they set themselves in bat- tle array, and the nations of the North standing firm as a wall, and impenetrable as a zone of ice, utterly slay the Arabs Avith the edge of the sword."* 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, after finding that their leader was slain, dispersed in the night, to the agreeable surprise 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 Providence. I have translated above some of the most spirited passages of these writers ; but it is impossible to collect from them any thing like a full or authentic description of the great battle itself, or of the opei'ations which preceded and followed it. Though, however, we may have cause to regret the meagre ness and doubtful character of these narratives, M^e have the great advantage of being able to compare the accounts given of Ab- derrahman's expedition by the national writers 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 an- nalist of one nation only, and where we have, consequently, no safeguard against the exaggerations, the distortions, and the he- lions which national vanity has so often put forth in the gMrb and under the title of history. The Arabian writers who recoi-d- pd the ;onquests and wars of their countrymen in Spain have " Tunc Abdirrahrnan, mullitudine sui exercitus repIetaiD prospiciens terrain, &.c. — Script. Gest. Franc, p. 786. BATTLE OF TOUKS. 177 aarrated also thf expedition into Gaul of their great eoir, and his defeat and death near Tours, in battle with the host of the Franks under King Caldus, the name into which they metamor- phose Charles Martel.* They tell us how there was war between the count of the Prankish frontier and the Moslems, and how the count gathered together all his people, and fought for a time with doubtful s ac- cess. " But," say the Arabian chroniclers, " Abderrahman diov»= them back ; and the men of Abderrahman were puffed 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 without number. And that army went through all places like a desolating storm. Prosper- ity 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 cim- eters, 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 Mos- lem horsemen, and how they rode at their will through all the land of Narbonne, Toulouse, and Bordeaux, and they told the king of the death of their count. Then the king bade them be of good cheer, and offered to aid them. And in the 114th yearf 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 cavaliers saw the disorder of the Moslem troops, whc were loaded with spoil ; but they did not venture to dis- please the soldiers by ordering them to abandon every thing ex- cept their arms and war-horses. And Abderrahman trusted in the valor of his soldiers, and in the good fortune which had ever * Tbc Arabian chronicles were compiled and translated into Spanish Dy D.)r) Jose Antonio Conde, in his " Historia dc la Domiiiacion de lot Arabos en Espana,'" published at Madrid in 1820. Conde's plan, which I have endeavored to follow, was to preserve bolii the style and spirit of his Oriental authorities, so that we find in his pages a genuine Saracen'c nar rative of the wars in Western Europe between the Mohammedcjis and tS\e Christians f Of the Fegira. H 2 i78 BATTIE OF TOURS. attended him But (the Arab writer remarks) such defect ol discipline always is fatal to armies. So Abderrahman and liia host attacked Tours to gain still more spoil, and they fouylil against it so fiei-cely that they stormed the city almost before ihc eyes of the army that came to save it ; and the fury and the cru elty of the Moslems toward the inhabitants of the city was like the fury and cruelty of raging tigeis. It was manifest," add* liio A rab, " tliat God's chastisement was sure to follow such ex- i^3£ses ; and Fortune thereupon turned her back upon the Moslems. " Near the River Owar,* the two great hosts of the two Ian guages 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 pride, and they were the first to begin the fight. The Moslem horsemen dashed fierce and frequent for- ward against the battalions of the Franks, who resisted manfully, and many fell dead on either side, until the going down of the Bun. Night parted the two armies ; but in the gray of the morn- ing the Moslems returned to the battle. Their cavahers had soon hewai their way into the centre of the Christian host. But many of the Moslems 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 sev- eral squadrons of the Moslem horsemen rode off to protect theii 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 fifteenth year." [t would be difficult to expect from an adversary a more ex plicit confession of having been thoroughly vanquished than the Arabs here accord to the Europeans. The points on which their flaiTative difl'ers from those of the Christians — as to how many days the conflict lasted, whether the assailed city was actually loscued o: not, and the like — are of little mbment compared with the admitted great fact that there was a decisive trial of strength batween Frank and Saracen, in which the former cnnqueved ♦ Probably the Loire. 'SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. * l79 The enduring importance of the battle of Tours in the eyes of the Moslems is attested nut only by the expressions of " the dead- ly battle" and " the disgraceful overthrow" which their writers constantly employ when referring to it, but also by the fact that no more serious attempts at conquest beyond the Pyrenees were made by the Saracens. Charles Martel, and his son and grai'l- 6on, wtr-rc left at leisure to consolidate and extend their power The ufcw Christian Roman empire of the West, which the geu- ius of Charlemagne founded, and throughout which his iron will imposed peace oir the old anarchy of creeds and races, did not indeed retain its integrity after its great ruler's death. Fresh troubles came over Europe ; but Christendom, though disunited was safe. The progress of civilization, and the development of the nationalities and governments of modern Europe, from that time forth went forward in not uninterrupted, but ultimately cer tain career. Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Tours, A.D. 732, AND THE Battle of Hastings, A.D. 1066. A.D. 768-814. Reign of Charlemagne. This monarch has justly been termed the principal regenerator of Western Europe, after the destaiction of the Roman empire. The early death of his brother Carloman left him sole master of the dominion of the Franks, which, by a succession of victorious wars, he enlarged into the new empire of the West. He conquered the Lombards, and re-established the pope at Rome, who, in return, acknowl- edged Charles as suzerain of Italy. And in the year 800, Leo III., in the name of the Roman people, solemnly crowned Charle- magne at Rome as emperor of the Roman empire of the West. In Spain, Charlemagne ruled the country between the Pyieueos and the Ebro ; but his most important conquests were efl'ected on the eastern side of his original kingdom, over the Sclavonians of Bohemia, the Avars of Pannonia and over the previously unciv- ilized German tiibes, who had remained in their fatherland. The old Saxons were his most obstinate antagonists, and his wars witl. them lasted for thirty years. Under him the greater part of Gjimaay was compulsorily civihzed and converted from pagan- "wm to Christianity. His empire extended eastward as far as the 180 SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS AFTER Elbe, the Saale, the Bohemian Mountains, and a line drawn from thence crossing the Danube above Vienna, and prolonged to the Gulf of Istria.* Throughout this vast assemblage of provinces, Charlemagne established an organized and firm government. But it is not aa a mere conqueror that he demands admiration. "In a life rest- lessly active, we see him reforming the coinage and establishing the Irgal divisions of money ; gathering about him the learned of tvery country ; founding schools and collecting libraries ; interfer- irg, with the air of a king, in religious controversies ; attempting, for the sake of commerce, the magnificent enterprise of miiting the Rhine and the Danube, and meditating to mold the discord- ant code of Roman and barbarian laws into a uniform system. "f 814—888. Repeated partitions 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 imperial 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 kingdoms of Europe, and in many cases efl'ect permanent con- quests. 871-900. Reign of Alfred in England. After a long and va ried struggle, he rescues England from the Danish invaders. 911. The French king cedes Neustria to Hrolf the Northman, Hrolf (or Duke RoUo, as he thenceforlh w^as termed) and his anny of Scandinavian wai'riors become the ruhng class of the population of the provincf^, which is called after them, Normandy, 1016. Four Knights from Normandy, who had been on a pil- grimage to the Holy Land, while returning through Italy, head the people of Salerno in repelling an attack of a band of Saracen corsairs. In the next year many adventurers from Noi-mandy set- tle in Italy, where they conquer Apulia (1040), and afterward (10 50) Sicily. 1017. Canute, king of Denmark, becomes king of England On the death of the last of his sons, in 1041, the Saxon line is t» * Hallam's "Middlr- Ages." t Hallatn, ur «upra. Tila BATTLtUf TOURS. 18| ftXored, and Edward the Confessor (who had been bred in the conrt 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* grim'ige to the Holy Land, anvl his son Wilham (afterwari the nvaqueror of England) succiedfc to the dukedom of Normiiudy. 182 BATTLE OF HASTINRB. CHAPTER VIII. THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS, A.D. 106b. Eis vos la Bataille assemblee, Dune encore est grant renomee. Roman dc Rou, 13183. Arletta's pretty feet twinkling in the brook made her Vaa mother of WilHam the Conqueror. Had she not thus fascinated Duke Robert the Liberal of Normandy, Harold would not have fallen at Hastings, no Anglo-Norman dynasty could have arisen, no British empire. The reflection is Sir Francis Palgrave's;* and it is emphatically 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 tan- ner of Falaise would deserve a conspicuous place in his 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 appearance of the work of Augustin Thierry on the Norman Conquest, these forensic fallacies have been exploded. Thierry made his readers keenly appreciate the magnitude of that ])olitical and social catasti'ophe. He depicted in vivid colora the atrocious crnelties of the conquerors, and the sweeping and in J iring innovations that they wrought, involving the overthnjw of ill: ancient constitution, as well as of the last of the Sa'xon kings. In his pages we see new tribunals and tenures s'lpcr- 6eJi)ig llie old ones, new divisiors of race and class introduced, whole districts devastated to gratify the vengeance or tins capriw ♦ ' History of Normandy and England," vol. i., p. 526. B A r T L E O F 11 A S T I N G S. 1 ^'^ sf the new cyrant, the greater part of the lands oi' the Eiiylitili •Vjiifiscate \ and divided among aliens, the very name of Englisn- ass or separate from the other. All went lirmly and compactly; bearing themselves gallantly. '• Harold had summoned his men, earls, barons, and vavassors, iiom 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 ; clubs and great picks, iron forks and stakes. The English had inclosed the place where Harold was with his friends and the barons of the country whom he had summoned and called together. " Those of London had come at once, and those of Kent, of Hertfort, and of Essesse ; those of Suree and Susesse, of St. Ed- mund and Sufoc ; of Norwis and Norfoe ; of Cantorbierre and Stanfort ; Bedefort and Hundetone. Tlie men of Northanton also came ; and those of Eurowie and Bokinkeham, of Bed and Notinkeham, Lindesie and Nichole. There came also from the west all who heard the summons ; and very many were to bo seen coming from Salebiere and Dorset, from Bat and from Sum- erset. Many came, too, from about Glocestre, and many from Wirecestre, fromWincestre, Hontesire, and Brichesire; and many more from other counties that we have not named, and can not, 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 would come and attack hiia hand to hand, so he had early inclosed the field in which ho placed his men. He made them ami early, and range them- ielves for the battle, he himself having put on arms and equip- m.'ufs that became such a lord. The duke, he said, ought to sec k him, as he wanted to conquer England ; and it became him to abide the p.ttack who had to defend the land. He command- ed the people, and counseled his barons to keep themselvBs all together, and defend themselves in a body ; for if they once sep- arated they would with difficulty recover themselves. ' Tha I 2 i02 BATTLE OF HAariNgS). Normans,' rfaid he, ' arc- good vassals, valiant on foot and on horseback ; good knights are they on horseback, and "w ell used to battle : all is lost if they once penetrate our ranks. They have brought bug lances and svi^ords, but you have pointed lances and keen-edged bills ; and I do not expect that their arm?! can stand against yours. Cleave whenever you can ; it w U be ill done if you spare aught.' " The English had built up a fence before them with ihcir 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 Norman who would attack them must first pass. Being covered in this way by their shields and barricades, their aim was to de- fend themselves ; and if they had remained steady for that pur- pose, they would not have been conquered 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 be ranged with their faces toward the enemy, and that no one should move from where he was, so that whoever came might find them ready ; and that whatever any one, be he Nor- man or 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 k.'ng goes to battle, the first blow belongs to them. The riglit of the men of London is to guard the king's body, to place them- Bclves 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 ijanie into the midst of the English, and dismounted by the side of the standard ; Leofw.n and Gurth his brothers, M'ere with him ; and around him he bad barons enouga, as he stood by his standard, which was, in truth, a noble one, sparkhng Avith gold and jre- cious stones. After the victory William sent it to the pope, to prove and commemorate his great conquest and glory. The En- glish stood in close ranks, ready and eager for the fight ; and Uiey, moreover, made a fosse, wliich v-ent across the field, guard' nig oi'c side ^f their army. B A T T 1. V: O r 11 ACTING s. 203 ' Meanwhild the Nonniiiis appeared advancing over the ridge »f .\ rising prouud, and the first division of their troops moved onward along the hill and across a valley. And presently an- other division, still larger, came in sight, close following upon the first, and they were led toward another part of the field, forming together as the first body had done. And while Harold saw and examined them, and Avas pointing them out to Gurth. a fresh company came in sight, covering all the plain ; and in the midst of them was raised the standard that came from Rome. Nea' It was the duke, and the best men and greatest strength of the army were there. The good knights, the good vassals and brave warriors were there ; and there were gathered together the gen- tle barons, the good archers, and the men-at-arms, whose duty it was to guard the duke, and range themselves around him. The 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 off toward a rising ground. The priests and the clerks also ascended a hill, there to ofier 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 bis 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 thai came the duke with his ovm men, and all moved boldly ''orward. " As soon as the two armies were in full view of each othtT, great noise and tumult arose. You might hear the sound of many tnimpets, of bugles, and of homs ; and then you might see men ranging themselves in line, lifting their shields, raising iheii lances, bending their bows, handling their arrows, ready for as- fault and defense. "The English stood steady to their post, the Normans still moved on ; and when they drew near, the English were to ba Bc«n stirring to and fro; were going and coming ; troops ranging thrmselves in order ; some with their color rising, others turning 204 BATTLE OF HASTINUS. pale ; some making ready tlieir arms, others raising thoii ehields ; the brave man rousing himself to fight, the coward trembling al the approach of" danger. " Then Taillefer, who svug right m ^U, rode, mounted on a swil't horse, before the duke, singing of Charlemagne and of Roland, of Oliver, and the peers who died in Roncesvalles. And w hen th;y drew nigh to the English, 'A boon, sire I' cried Taillefer; ' I have long served you, and you owe me for all such service. To-day, so please you, you shall repay it. I ask as my guerdon, and beseech you for it earnestly, that you will allow me to strike the first blow in the battle I' And tte 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 be- low 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 I What do ye, sirs ? lay on, lay on I' At the sec- ond 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 themselves well. Some were striking, others urging on- ward ; all were bold, and cast aside fear. And now, behold, that battle was gathered whereof the fame is yet niighty. " Loud and far rcbOunded the bray of the horns ; and the shocks of the lances, the mighty strokes of maces, and the quick clashing of swords. One wliile the Englishmen rushed on, an- other while they fell back ; one while the men from over sea charged onward, and again at other times retreated. Tlie Nor- mans shouted Dex Aie, the English people Out. Then came the cunning maneuvers, the rude sliocks and strokes of the lance and blows of the swords, among the sergeants and soldiers, both En- glish and Norman. " When the Englisli fall the Normans shout. Each side taunts and d"lic'K tile other, yet neither knoAveth what tlie oilier saith ; and the Normans say the English bark, because the" \Jiiderstand not their speech. " Some wax strong, others weaii : the brave exuit, but tlio lowards tremble, as men who are sore dismayed. The Nonnaiis press on the assault, and the English defend their post well : they pierce the hauberks, and cleave the shields, receive and re- BATTLE OF HASTINGS. ^UO turn Bii|2;Iity tlows. Again, some press forward, others yielil , and thus, in various ways, the struggle proceeds. In the phiiii was a I'osse, whicli the Normans had now behind them, having passed it in the fight without regarding it. But the Enghsh charged and drove tlie Nonnans before them till they made theni la 11 back upon this fosse, overthrowing into it horses and men Wsny were to be seen falling therein, rolling one over the other, MJlh their faces to the earth, and unable to rise. Many of the English, also, whom the Normans drew down along with their,, d.iHl there. At no time during the day's battle dixl 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 restoruig 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 I 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 recognize him. In his hand he held a mace, and wher- ever 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 thcin- idves wdth their shields, so that the arrows could not reach their bodies, nor do any mischief, how true soever was their aim, or hcsvevcr well they shot. Then the Normans determined to slioot Ihi.ir arrows upward into the air, so that they might fall on tlieii tntimies' heads, and strike their faces. The archers adopted this fcvheme. and shot up into the air toward the English " and thf 806 BATTl-E OF HASTINGS. arrows, in falling, struck their heads and faces, and put out th« eyes of many ; and all feared to open their eyes, or leave their faces unguarded. " The arrows now flew thicker than rain before the wind i fast sped the shafts that the English call ' wibetes.' Then it was that an arrow, that had been thus shot upward, struck Har- old, 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 ihe piin to his head 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 up against their king, and that the archer won them great glory who thus put out Harold's eye. " The Normans saw that the English defended themselves well, and were so strong in their position that they could do lit- tle against them. So they consulted together privily, and ar- ranged 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 discomfited 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 would never re- turn. " Thus they were deceived by the pretended flight, and great misciiief 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 ; but, like fools, they broke their lines and pur Bued. " The Normans were to be seen following up their stratagem, retreating sloAvly so as to draw the English farther on. As they Btill flee, the English pursue ; they push out their lances and stretch forth their hatchets, following the Normans as they go, /ejoicing in the success of their scheme, and scattering themselves o/er tlie plain. And the English meantime jeered and insulted their foes M'ith words. ' Cowards,' they cried, ' you came hithei in an evil hour, wanting our lands, and seeking to seize our prop crty, fools that ye were to come I Normandy is too far ofF, iiid FO'i will not easily reach it It is of little use to ru i back ; un- BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 20T iess you can cross the sea at a leap, or can drink it dry, youi Boiis and daughters are lost to you ' " The Normans bore it all ; but, in fact, they knew i.:t whit the English said : their language seemed like the baying : f Jogs, which they could not understand. At length they stopped and turned round, determined to recover their ranks ; and the bar- ons might be heard crying dex aie I for a halt. Then the Nor- mans resumed their former position, turning their laces toward the enemy ; and their men were to be seen facing round aud rushing onward to a fresh melee, the one party assaulting the other ; this man striking, another pressing onward. One hits, another misses ; one flies, another pursues ; one is aiming a stroke, while another discharges his blow. Norman strives with Englishman again, and aims his blows afresh. One flies, anoth- er pursues swiftly : the combatants are many, the plain wide, the battle and the melee fierce. On every hand they fight hard, the blows are heavy, and the struggle becomes fierce. " The Normans were playing their part well, when an En- glish knight came rushing up, having in his company a hundred men, furnished with various arms. He wielded a northern hatchet, with the blade a full foot long, and was well armed after his manner, 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 ujjon a Norman whc was armed and riding on a war-horse, and tried with his hatch- et of steel to cleave his helmet ; but the blow miscarried, aud the sharp blade glanced down before the saddle-bow, driving through the horse's neck down to the ground, so that both horse and master fell together to the earth. I know not whether the Englishman struck another blow ; but the Normans who saw the stroke wei'e astonished, and about to abandon the assault, when Roger de Montgomeri came galloping up, with his lance got, and heeding not the long-handled ax which the Englishraaii 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 themetlves, killing the horses and cleaving the shields. •' There was a French soldier of noble mien, who sat his horse 208 BATTLE OF IIASTiNUs. gallantly. He spied two Englishmen who weie also carrying themselves boldly. They were both men of great worth, and had become companions in arms and fought together, the one protecting the other. They bore two long and broad bills, and did great mischief to the Normans, killing both hordes 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 galloped 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 moment that he fell, the lance broke, and the Frenchman seized the mace that hung at his right side, and struck the other En- glishman 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 hatch- et. 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 Norman 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 ofi^ his right hand, so that liis hatchet fell to the grovnid. Another Norman sprang forward and eagerly seized the prize Mith both his hands, but he kept it little space, and paid dearly for it, for as he stooped to pick up the hatcliet, an Englishman with his long-handled ax struck him over the back, breaking all liis bones, so that his entrails and lungs gushed forth. The knight of the good horse meantime re turned without injury ; but on liis way he met another English man, and bore him down under his horse, wounding hii griev- ouslj and Irainpling him altogether under foot. ".And now might be heard the loud clang and cry of battle, and the cla.'^hing oi" lances Th, English stood firm in their bar- ricades, and shivered the lances, beating them into pieces with their l)ill? and maces. The Normans d'-^'w their "words and BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 20^ hewed tlovvii the barricadas, and the English, in f»reat troi.ble, iell back upon their standard, where were collected tlie maimed and wounded. " There were many knights of Chauz who jousted and made attacks. The Englisli knew not how to joust, or bear arms on liorseback, but fought with hatchets and bills. A man, when he •v\ttnted 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 ri ing 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. " Robert Fitz Erneis fixed his lance, took liis shield, and, gal- loping toward the standard, with his keen-edged sword struck an Englishman who was in front, killed him, and then drawing back his sword, attacked many others, and pushed straight for the standai-d, trying to beat it down ; but the English surrounded it and killed him with their bills. He was found on the spot, whcD they afterward sought for hini, dead, and lying at the standard',* foot. " Duke William pressed close upon the Enghsh with his lance striving liard to reach the standard with the great troop he lea and seeking earnestly for Harold, on whose account the whol war was. The Normans follow their lord, and press around him they ply their blows u})on the English ; and these defend then' selves stoutly, striving liard with their enemies, returning blo'>? ibr blow. " One of them was a man of great strength, a wrestler, win. did great mischief to the Normans with his hatchet ; all feared him, for he struck down a great many Normans. The duke spur- red on his horse, and aimed a blow at him, but he stooped, anil ?o escaped the stroke ; then jumping on one side, he hfted hi? Ratchet aloft, and as the duke bent to avoid the blow, the En eJishman boldly struck him on the head, and beat in his helmet ihough without doing much injury. He was very near lalliue' however ; but, bearing on his stirrups, he recovered himself im mediately ; and when he thought to have revenged liimseil upui the churl by killing him, he had escaped, dreading th*' d>ikeS ^iO BATTLE OF HASTINGS. blow. He ran back in among tlie English, but he was not saic even Iherc ; for the Normans, seeing him, pursued and caught him, and having pierced him through and through with thoii lances, left him daad on the ground. " Where the throng of the battle was greatest, the mer. of Kent and Essex fought wondrously well, and made the Norman* again retreat, but without doing them much injury. And when the duke saw his men fall back, and the English triumplring 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 leading them on in front. Many pursued 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 En glish rallied in places, smote down those whom they reached, and maintained 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 v/ho 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 rore 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, defending himself to the utmost ; but he was sorely wounded in his eye by the arrow, and suftered grievous pain fror.i the blow, A^n arriei man came in the throng of the battle, and strurk him BATTLE OF HASTINGS iil 1 on the veutaille of his hehiiet, and boat hiin to the ground ; and as he sought to recover himself", a Ivuight beat hiin down agaiu, striking him on the thick oi' his thigh, down to the bone. "Gurth saw the Enghsh falling around, and that there was no remed}'. 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 struck him with great force. Whether he died of ;hat 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 wag 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 day drew to a close. Then it clearly appeared to all that the standard was lost, and the news had spread through- out 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 a blow 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 necessary, so that he fell not to the ground, and lost not a drop of blood. But w^hatever any one did, and whoever lived or died, this is certain, 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 up on high, where the English standard had stood ; and that was the signal of his having con- quered, and beaten down the standard. And he ordered his tent to be raised on the spot among the dead, and had his meat brouglit thither, and his supper prepared there. *' Then he took ofl' his armor ; and the barons and kraghts 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 holmet was dinted in. And all greatly wondered, and said 212 CATTLE OF IIAsiTINCiS. ' Sucli a baron (ber) never bestrode war-horse, nor dealt sutjl blows, nor did such feats of arms ; neither has there been on earth such a knight since Rollant and OHver.' " Thus they lauded and *^xtolled him greatlyi 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 glo- ry, 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 morrov was Sunday ; and those who had slept upon the field of battle, keeping watch around, and suffering great fa- tigue, bestirred themselves at break of day, and sought out and buried such of the bodies of their dead friends as they might find. The noble ladies of the land also came, some to seek their hus bands, 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 the country were ready, and at the re- quest of their friends, took the bodies that were found, and pre pared graves and lay them therein. " King Harold 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." Sucli is a Norman account of the battle of Hastings,*^ which does full justice to the valor of the Saxons as well as to the skill and bravery of the victors. It is indeed evident that the loss of the battle by the English was owing to the wound which Har- old received in tlie afternoon, and which must have incapacita- ted him from effective eonmiand. When we remember that ho Lad himself just won the battle of Stamford Bridge over Harald Hardrada by the maneuver of a feigned flight, it is impossible to suppose that he could be deceived by the same stratagem ou the * Ii. the preceding pages I have woven together tlie ' purpurf os paniioa' '.'f'lie old clii()nich3r. In so doing, I iiave largely availed niyeelf of Mr. Edgar Taylor's version of that part of the " Roman de Ron" which de- bcrihcs tho conquest. By giving engravings from tiie Bayeux Tapestry and by his e,\cellent notes, M'-. Tavln has added much to the value and \nterest of his volume BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 213 pail of the JAormaus at Hastings. But liis men, \vhc;n deprived of iiis control, would very naturally be led by their iacousiderate ardor into the pursuit that proved so fatal to them. All the nar- ratives of the battle, however much they vary as to the precise time and manner of Harold's fall, eulogize the generalship and the personal prowess which he displayed, until the fatal arrow etruck him. The skill with which he had posted his army was {)roved 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 ofl' a large number of the pursuing Normans. This cir- cumstance is particularly mentioned by William of Poictiers, the Conquerors own chaplain. Indeed, if Harold, or either of his brothers, had survived, the remains of the English army might have formed again in the wood, and could at least have efl'ected an orderly retreat, and prolonged 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 stand- ard of their country. The exact number that perished on the Saxon side is unknovi'n ; but we read that on the side of the vic- tors, out of sixty thousand men who had been engaged, no less than a fourth perished. So well had the English billmen " ply- ed the ghastly blow," and so sternly had the Saxon battle-ax cloven Norman casque and mail.* The old historian Daniel justly as well as forcibly remarks,! " Thus was tried, by the great assize of God's judgment in battle, the right of power be- tween the English and Norman nations ; a battle the most mem- orable of all others ; and, however miserably lost, yet most nobly fought on the part of England." Many a pathetic legend was told in after years respecting the discovery and the burial of the corpse of our last Saxon king. The main circumstances, though they seem to vary, are perhaps reconcilable. t Two of the monks of Waltham Abbey, which Har- old had founded a little time before his election to the throne, had accompanied him to the battle. On the morning after the &]aMgU'?r, they begged and gained permission of the Conqueror * The vTonqueror's Chaplain calls the Saxon hattle-axes "saevissimae secures." + .As cited in the " Pictorial History." t See them collected in Lingard, i., 452, et seq. Thierry, i., 299 ; SI ar on Turner i., 82 ; and Histoire dc Norm-^ndie, par Liegnet, p 242. 214 SViNOFSIS OF EVENTS AFTEK THE to searcn for the bodj- of their benefactor. The Normaii soldiery and camp-followers had stripped and gashed the slain, aiid the two monks vainly strove to recognize from among the mutilated 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 love proved 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 of her son. But William at first answer- ed in his wrath and the hardness of his heart, that a man who bad been false to his word and his religion should have no other sepulchre than the sand of the 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." The taunt was an unin- tentional euolgy ; and a grave washed by the spray of the Sus sex waves would have been the noblest burial-place for the mar- tyr of Saxon freedom. But Harold's mother was urgent in hei lamentations and her prayers ; the Conqueror relented : like Achilles, he gave up the dead body of his fallen foe to a parent's supplications, and the remains of King Harold were deposited with regal honors in Waltham Abbey. On Christmas day in the same year William the Conquered was crowned at London King of England. Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Hastings, A.D 1066, AND Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, A.D. 1429. A.D. 1066-1087. Reign of William the Conqueror. Frequent risings of the English against him, which are quelled with mer- ciless rigor. 1096. The first Crusade. 1112. Commencement of the disputes about investitures be- tween the emperors and the popes. 1 140. Foundation of the city of Lubec, whence originated the Hanseatic League. Commencement of the feuds in Italy be- tween the Guelfs and the Ghibellines. 1146 The second Crusade. 1 164. Henry \I becomep King of England. "Tnder him Thorn BATTLr,Ct"UASriNG8. 2i0 as a Becket is made Archbishop of Canterbury : tlie firat instancv of any man of the Saxon race being raised to high ofTice ia Church or State since the Conquest. 1170. Strongbow, earl of Pembroke, lands with an English army in Ireland. 1189. Richard Coeur de Lion becomes King of England. He and King Philip 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 hmi Normandy. Brittany, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, and Poictiers. 1215. The barons, the freeholders, the citizens, and the yeo- men of England rise against the tyranny of John and his foreign favorites. They compel him to sign Magna Charta. This is the coiiunencement of our nationality : for our history from this time Ibrth is the history of a national life, then complete and still in be- ing. All English history before this period is a mere history oi elements, of their collisions, and of the processes of their fusion For upward of a century after the Conquest, Anglo-Norman and Aikglo-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 com- mon 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 to- gether with him the name of Englishman. No part of the com- munity think themselves foreigners to another part. They feci that they are all one people, and they have learned to unite their eflbrts for the common purpose of protecting the rights and pro- moting 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 lar.- Ifuage had, m tlie '"eign of Henry III., become the language cf the land, and that, also, had then assumed the form in which we tf'16 SiTNOi'SIS OF EVENTS AFTER THK Btill possess it. One law, in the eye of -which all freemen »i« equal without distinction of race, was modeled, and steadily en- forced, and still continues to fomi the ground-work of our judicial system.* 1273. Rodolph of Hapsburg chosen Emperor of Gennany. 1283. Edward I. conquers Wales. 1346. Edward III. invades France, and gains tho battle ni Cresay. 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 suffer- mg, 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. "t 1415. Henry invades France, takes Harfleur, and wins the ^eat battle of Agincourt. 1417-1419. Henry conquers Normandy. The French Dau- phin assassinates the Duke of Burgundy, the most powerful of the French nobles, at Montereau. The successor of the murdered d-ake becomes the active ally of the English 1420. The treaty of Troyes is concluded between Henry V. of England and Charles VI. of France, and Philip, duke of Burgun- dy. By this treaty it Avas stipulated that Hcnr}' should marrv tho Princess Catharine of France ; that King Charles, during iiig lif.lime, should keep the title and dignily of King of France, liul that Henry should succeed him, and should at once be intrusted with the adriinistration of the government, and that the French ♦ " Crcasy's Te.xt-book" of the Constitution," p. 4. i " Pictorial Hist, of England," vol i., p. sa BATTLE OF H A 5 T 1 N G it. 217 crown should d.scend to Henry's heirs; that France and En- gland should forever be united under one king, but shjuld still retain ilieir several usages, customs, and privileges ; that all the princes, peers, vassals, and communities of France should sweat allegiance to Henry as their future king, and should pay him present obedience as regent. That Henry should unite his arras to those of King Charles and the Duke of Burgundy, in order to subdue the adherents of Charles, the pretended dauphin ; and tliat these three princes should make no peace or truce with the dauphin but by the common consent of all three. 1421. Henry V. gains several victories over the French, who refuse to acknowledge the treaty of Troyes. His son, afterward Henry VI., is bom. 1422. Henry V. and Charles VI. of France die. Henry VI. is proclaimed at Paris King of England and France. The fol lowers 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 Vemeui) over the French partisans of the dauphin and their Scotch aax- liaries 1428. The Enghsh begn the siege of Orleans. K 218 JOAN OF ARC S VICTORY CHAPTER IX. OtM OF AEC'S VICTORY OVER THE ENGLISH AT ORLEANS, AD. 1429 ?he eyes of all Europe were turned toward this scene, where it waa reasonably supposed the French were to make their last stand for main* taining the independence of their monarchy and the rights of their sov- ereign. — Hume. When, after their victory at Salamis, the generals of the va- rious 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 w^as looked on as a decisive proof that Themistocles ought to be ranked first of all. If we vi'ere to endeavor, by a similar test, to ascertain w^hich European nation had contributed the most to the progress of European civilization, we should find Italy, Germany, England, and Spain each claiming the first de- gree, but each also naming France as clearly next in merit. It jg impossible to deny her paramount importance in history. Be- sides the formidable part that she has for nearly three 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 make the crisis of her earlier fortunes a point of world-wide in- terest ; 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 be- ginning of the fifteenth century, rescued her country from becom- ing a second Ireland under the yoke of the triumphant English. Seldom has the extinction of a nation's independence appeared more inevitable than was the case in France when the English invaders com])letcd their lines round Orleans, four hundred and tw».M)t,y-two years ago. A scries of dreadful defeats had tiiinned thd eldvalry of France, and daunted the spirits of her soldiers. A foreign king had been proclaimed in her capital; and foreign irrnvas of the bravest veterans, and led by the ablest captains then ♦ Plutarch. Vit. Them. 17. AT ORLEANS. 219 known in the world, occupied the fairest portions of her territory. Worse to her, even, than the fierceness and the strength of hel foes, were the factions, the vices, and the crimes of her own chil- dren. Her native prince was a dissolute trifler, stained with the assassination ot the most powerful noble of the land, whose son, in revenge, had leagued himself with the enemy. Many more of her nobility, many of her prelates, her magistrates, and rulers, had sworn fealty to the English king. The condition of the peasantry amid the general prevalence of anarchy and brigand- age, which were added to the customary devastations of contend- ing armies, was wirctched beyond the power of language to de- scribe. The sense of terror and wretchedness seemed to have extended itself even to the brute creation. " In sooth, tl:e estate of France was then most miserable There appeared nothing but a horrible face, confusion, poverty, desolation, eolitarinesse, and feare. The lean and bare laborers in the country did terrific even theeves themselves, who had noth- ing left them to spoilc but the carkasses of these poore miserable creatures, wandering up and down like ghostes draA\ne out of their graves. The least farmes and hamlets were fortified by these robbeis, English, Bourguegnons, and French, every one striv ing to do his M'orst : all men-of-war were well agreed to spoilc the countryman and merchant. Even the cattcll, accustomed to the larume belt, the signc of the enemy' & approach, would run home of themselves ivithout any guide by this accustomed mis- ery."* In the autumn of 1428, the English, who were alieady mas ters of all France no.'th 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, was looked upon as the last stronghold of the French na- tional party. If the English could once obtain possession of it their victorious progress through the residue of the kingdon seemed free from any serious obstacle. Accordingly, the Earl of Salisbury, one of the bravest and most experienced of the En- glish generals, who had been trained under Henry V., maichcc. to the attack of the all-important city ; and, after reducing sev eral places of inferior consequence in the neighborhood, appeareo aith his army before its walls on the 12th of October, 1426 * Dr Serres, quoted in the Notes to Southey's "Joan of Arc " 25JO JOAN OF arc's victcrt The city of Orleans itself M'as on the north si le oi the Loire, but its suburbs extended far on the southern side, and a strong bridge connected them with the town. A fortification, which iu modern military phrase would be termed a tete-du-pont, defend- ed the bridge head on the southern side, and two towers, called the Tourelles, were built on the bridge itself, at a little distance from the tete-du-pont. Indeed, the solid masonry of the bridge terminated 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 fortified post, capable of containing a garrison of consider able strength ; and so long as this was in possession of the Or- leannais, they could communicate freely with the southern prov- inces, the inhabitants of which, like the Orleannais themselves, supported the cause of their dauphin 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. Ac- cordingly, 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 d 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 streetai. It has been observed by Hume that this is the first siege m which any important use appears to have been made of artil- lery. And even at Orleans both besiegers and besieged seem to have employed their cannons merely as instruments of destruc- •.ion against their enemy's me?i, and not to have trusted to them as engines of demolition 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, at the memorable eiegc of Constantinople.* In our French wars, as in the wars nf the classic nations, famine was looked on as the surest weapon to compel the submission of a •\vell-wallcd town ; and the gieat object of the besiegers was to eflect a complete circumvallation. The great ambit of the walls of Orleans, antl-the facilities which ♦ The occasional employment of artillery against slight defenses, as at Jargnau in 1429, is n • real exception AT O R L K A X 3. the river gave for obtaining succors and supplies, rendercQ the capture ol' the town by this process a matter oi" great difhcully. Nevertheless, Lord Sahsbury, and Lord Suilbliv, who succeeded him in command of the English after his death by a cannon ball, carried on the necessary works with great skill and resolution. {Six strongly-fortified posts, called bastilles, were formed at cer- tain intervals round the town, and the purpose of the English engineers was to draw strong lines between them. During the winter, little progress was made with the intrenchments, but 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 effects 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 sixteen hundred fighting men. Sir John completely defeated an army of French and Scots, four thousand strong, which had been collected for the purpose of aiding the Orleannais and har- assing the besiegers. After this encounter, which seemed deci- sively to confirm the superiority of the English in battle ovei their adversaries, Fastolfe escorted large supplies of stores and food to Suflblk's camp, and the spirits of the English rose to the highest pitch at the prospect of the speedy capture of the city be fore them, and the consequent subjection of all France beneath their arms. The Orleannais now, in their distress, offered 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 submissioa 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 prevented from abandoning the country by the more rnascidine spirits of his mistress and his queen. Yet neither they^ nor the boldest of Charles's captains, could have shoA^n him where to find resources for prolonging the war ; and least of all could any human skill have predicted the quarter whence reBCU« was to come to Orleans and to France. 222 JOAN OF arc's V^ICTORY In tiie village of Domremy, on the borders of Lorraine, thure wat a pojr peasant of the name of Jacques d'Aro, respected in his station of life, and who had reared a family in virtuous habita 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, vi'^hich was LatLiized into Johanna, and Ajigli- eii )d intc Joan.* A.t the time when Joan first attracted attention, she was about eighteen years of age. She was naturally of a susceptible iispo- gition, which diligent attention to the legends of saints and talea of fairies, aided by the dreamy loneliness of her life while tend- ing her father's flocks, f had made peculiarly prone to enthusiastic fervor. At the same time, she was eminent for piety and purity of soul, and for her compassionate gentleness to the sick and the distressed. The district where she dwelt had escaped comparatively free from the ravages of war, but the approach of roving bands of * "Respondit quod in partibiis suis vocabatur Johanneta, et postquam venit in Franciain vocaia est Jolianna." — Proces dc Jeanne d'Arc, i., p. 46. + 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 My soul was nursed, amid the loveliest scenes Of unpolluted nature. Sweet it was. As the while mist.s of morning roll'd away, To see the mountain's wooded heights appear Dark in the early dawn, and mark its slope Willi gorse-flowers glowing, as the rising sun On the golden ripeness pour'd 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 similitudes Their ever-varying forms ; and oh ! how sweet, To drive my flock at evening to the fold, And hasten to our little hul, and hear The voice of kindness bid me welcome home." The only foundation for the story told by the Burgnndian partisan Mod- %trtlet, and adopted by Hume, of Joan having been brought up as a scrv. ant, is the circumstance of her having b(;en once, with the rest of hei family, obliged to take refuge in an aubergc in Neufchateau for fifteen days, when a jiarty of Burgundian cavalry made an incursion into Domremy (See the " Quarterly Review," No. 138.) AT ORLEANS. 'Ziil Burguiidiati or English troops frequently spreaa terror throueb Doinrcmy. Once the village had been plundered by some of iliese marauders, and Joan and her family had been driven from tlieii 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 Frau-'e endured were there imputed to tlie Burguudian facti;)i] and their allies, the English, who were seeking to enclave unhap- py France. Thus, from infancy to girlhood, Joan had heard continually of the woes of the war, and had herself witnessed some of the M'retcheduess that it caused. A feeling of intense patriotism grew in her with her growth. The deliverance of France from the Enghsh was the subject of her reveries by day and her dreams by night. Blended with these aspirations were recol- lections of the miraculous 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 danger, for she felt no sin," and at length she believed herself to have received the supernatural inspiration which she sought. According to her own narrative, delivered by her to her mer ciless inquisitors in the time of her captivity and approaching death, she was about thirteen years old when her revelations com- menced. Her own words describe them best.* " At the age of thirteen, a voice from God came to her to help her in ruling her- self, and that voice came to her about the hour of noon, in sum- mer 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 direciion of the church ; and when she heard the voice, she saw also a I right light." Afterward St. Michael, and St. Mai- garst, and St Catharine appeared to her. They were always in a hilo of glory ; she could see that their heads were crowned with jewels ; and she heard their voices, which were sweet and mild. Sh«'. did not distinguish their arms or limbs. She heard them HOT 3 frequently than she saw them ; and the usual time when she heard them was when the churcli bells were sounding for prayer. And if she was in the woods when she heard thcni; she noiUd plainly distinguish their voices drawing near tc hei . W' hen * " Proces de Jeanne d'Arc," vol. i., p 52 224 JOAN OF arc's ViSTORl she thought that she discerned the Heavenly Voices, she knelt down, and bowed herself to the ground. Their presence glad- dened her even to tears ; and after they departed, she wept be- cause they had not taken her with them back to Paradise. They always spoke soothingly to her. They told her that France would be saved, and that she was to save it. Sach were the visiosis and the voices that moved the spiri t of the girl of thirteen ; an as she grew older, they became m>re frequent and more clear At last the tidings of the siege of Orleans reached Domremy. Joan heard her parents and neigt.bors talk of the sufierings 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 at Rheims. At length she inform- ed her parents of her divine mission, and told them that she must go to the Sire de Baudricourt, who commanded at Vaucou leurs, and who was the appointed person to bring her into the presence of the king, whom she was to save. Neither the anger noi the grief of her parents, who said that they would rather see her drowned than exposed to the contamination of the camp, could move her from her purpose. One of her uncles consented to take her to Vauoouleurs, where De Baudricourt at first thought her mad, and derided her ; but by degrees was led to believe, if not in her inspiration, at least in her enthusiasm, and in its pos- sible utility to the dauphin's cause. Tlie inhabitants of Vaucouleurs were completely won over to her side by the piety and devoulness M'hich she displayed, and by her firm assurance in the truth of her mission. She told them that it was God's will that r,he should go to the king, and that ,10 one but her could save the kingdom of France. She said that she herself would rather remain with her poor mother, and spin; but the Lord had ordered her forth. The fame of " The Maid/"* as she was termed, the renown of her holiness, and of her mis- sion, spread far and wide. Baudricourt sent her with an escoit to Cliinon, where the Dauphin Charles was dallying away hid time. Her Voices had bidden her assume the arms and the ap« paiel of a knight ; and the wjalthiest inhabitants of Vaucouleurii AY ORLEANS. 22d had vied v/ith each other in equipping her with war-hoKO, aiinor. and sword. On reaching Chinon, she was, after Bome delay, ad- milled into the presence of tlie dauphin. Charles designedly dressed himself far less richly than many of his courtiers were appareled, and mingled with them, when Joan was inti'oduced, iji order to see if the Holy Maid would address her exhortations to the wrong person. But she instantly singled him out, an J kneeling before him, said, " Most noble dauphin, the King ol Heaven announces to you by me that you shall be anointed and crowned king in the city of Rheims, and that you shall be his vicegerent in France." His features may probably have been teen 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 in- fluence that she now rapidly acquired. The state of public feeling in France was now favorable to an enthusiastic 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 Franco 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 profoundly 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. A t this time, also, one ol 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 adequate human cause for their immediate date or extension. Numberless friars and priests traversed the rural dis- tricts and towns of France, preaching to the people that thev must seek from Heaven a deliverance from the pillages o.l tho •oldiery and the insolence of the foreign oppressors.! The idea * " Pioces de Je;uine d'.\rc," vol. i., p. 56. t See Sismondi, vol. xiii., p. 114; Michelet, vol. v., livre I K2 'dim JOAN OF ABC'S VICTOKT of a Providence that works only by general laws was whoJ') aii'jn to the feeUngs of the age. Eveiy political event, as well as ev ery natural plipenomenoii, was believed to be the immediate re- sult of a special mandate of God. This led to the belief that his holy angels and saints were constantly employed in executing hii commands and mingling in the aflairs of men. The Church en- Lioiirigod these feelings, and at the same time sanctioned the coii' current popular belief that hosts of evil spirits were ^Iso ever act- ively inter] losing in the current of earthly events, with whom sor- cerers and wizards could league themselves, and thereby obtaio the exercise of supernatural power. Thus all things favored the influence which Joan obtained both over friends and foes. The French nation, as well as the English and the Burgundians, readily admitted that superhuman beings inspired her ; the only question was whether these beings were good or evil angels ; whether she brought with her " airs from heaven or blasts from hell." This question seemed to her countrymen to be decisively settled in her favor by the austere sanctity of her life, by the holiness of her convei'sation, but still more by her exemplary attention to aU 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 hav- ing leagued himself Math a sorceress. Every imaginable test, therefore, was resorted to in order to set Joan's orthodoxy and purity beyond suspicion. At last Charles and his advisers felt safe in accepting her services as those of a true and virtuous Christian daughter of the Holy Church. It is indeed probable that Charles himself and some of hie counselors 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 lier influence was unbounded. While Charles and hia doctors of theology, and court ladies, had been deliberating as tc recognizing or dismissing the Maid, a considerable period 1 id passed away, during which a small army, the last gleanings, ai It seemed, of the English sword, had been assembled at Blois, unjor Dunois, La Hire, Xaini rallies, and other chiefs, who to their natural valor were now beginning 1o unite the wisdom that is taught by misfortune. It was resolved to send Joan with this Al ORLEANS. 22V force and a convoy of provisions to Orleans. The distress of that city had now become urgent. But the communication vi'ilh the open country was not entirely cut ofl": the Orleannais had heard of the Holy Maid whom Providence had raised up lor their de- liverance, and their messengers earnestly implored the dauphin til send her to them without delay. Joan appeared at the camp at Blois, clad in a new suit of i/iilliaut white armor, mounted on a stately black wai'-horse, and «vith a lance in her right hand, which she had learned to wield with skill and grace. *" Her head was unhelmeted ; so that all could behold her fair and expressive features, her deep-set and earnest eyes, and her long black hair, which was parted across her forehead, and bound by a ribbon behind her back. She wore at her side a small battle-ax, and the consecrated sword, marked on the blade with five crosses, which had at her bidding beeu taken for her from the shrine of St. Catharine at Fierbois. A page carried her banner, which she had caused to be made and embroidered as her Voices enjoined. It was white satin, t strewn with fleurs-de-lis ; and on it were the words " Jhesus Maria," and the representation of the Savior in his glory. Joan after- ward 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 httle with the maneuvers of the troops, leaving these things to Dunois, and others whom she had the discernment to recognize as the best officers 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 "4 * See tlie descri(jtion of her by Gui de Laval, quoted in the note lOiMi- CLfciet,, f. 69 ; and see the iiccoiinl of the banner at Oi leans, whicii is be- lieved to bear an authentic portrait of the Maid, in Mmray's "Hand-buofc for France," p 175. ♦ " Proces de Jeanne d'Arc," vol. i., p. 238. t Id. ib 228 JOAN OF arc's VIUIORT Such, as she told her inquisitors, was the only spell she used, and it was one of power. But while interfering little with the mill 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 lialt, 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 off 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 lead- ing 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 cliron icier Hall :* " The Englishmen, perceiving that thei within could not long continue for faute of vitaile and ponder, kepte not their watche so diligently as thei were accustomed, nor scoured now the countrcy environed as thei before had ordained, Whiche neg ligence the citizens shut in perceiving, sent worde thereof to the French captaines, which, with Pucelle, in the dedde tyme of the uighte, and in a greate rayne and thundere, with all their vitaile and artillery, entered into the eitie." When it was day, 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 knights 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 pour- ed forth blessings on her, whom they already considered thoir de- liverer. In the words used by two of them afterward before the tribunal which reversed the sentence, but could not restore the iife of the Virgin-martyr of France, " the people of Orleans, wheir. th3y nr.«t saw her in their city, tliought that it was an angel from heaven that hid come dowu to save them." Joaa spokn) • Hall, f. 127. AT ORLEAVo. 229 /gently iu reply to their acclamations and addresses. She toid tlieiii to fear God, and trust iu Him foi safety from tne fury of their enemies She first went to the principal church, where Te Dcitm was. chanted ; and then slie took up her abode at the liousc of Jacques Bourgier, one of the principal citizens, and whose wife was a matron of good repute. She refused to attend a splen- did banquet which had been provided for her, and passed nearly ill! her time in prayer. When it was known by the English that the Maid was in Or l»>ans, theii minds weve not less occupied about her than were the minds of those in the city ; but it was in a very difierent 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 prophecy, 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 mir- acles which she was said to have wrought had been listened to by the rough yeomen of the English camp with anxious curiosity and secret awe. She had sent a herald to the English generals before she marched for Orleans, and he had summoned the En- glish 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 of the companies of war, or gentlemen, or others, who were before the city of Or- leans, to depart thence to their homes, under peril of being visit- ed by tne judgment of God. On her arrival in Orleans, Joan sent another similar message ; but the English scofi'ed at her from their towers, and threatened to burn her heralds. She de- termined, before she shed the blood of the besiegers, to repeat 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 thera dt part otherwise they would meet with shame and woe. Sif William Ciladsdale (whom the French call Glacidas) command- ed the English post at the Tourelles, and ho and another En* glish ofllcer replied by bidding her go home and keep her cows, and by ribald jests, that bi ">ught tears of shame and indignation 230 lOAN OF ASC'S VICTORT into her eyes. But, though the English leaders vaunted aloud, the efl'ect 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 provi- sion wagons safely into Orleans, between "he. bastilles of the En glish, Avho cowered behind their walls inste?d of charging fierce' ly and fearlessly, as had been their won', on any French baud that dared to shoAV itself \\Tlhui reach. Thus far she had prevailed without sti iking a blow ; but the lime was now come to test her courage amid the horrors of ac- tual slaughter. On the afternoon of the day on wliich she had escorted the re-enforcements into the city, while she was resting fatigued at home, Dunois had seized an advantageous opportuni- ty of attacking the English bastille of St. Loup, and a fierce a,s- sault of the Orleannais had been made on it, which the Englisii garrison of the fort stubbornly resisted. Joan was roused by s- sound which she believed to be that of her Heavenly Voices ; sht called for her arms and horse, and, quickly equipping herself, she mounted to ride oft^ to M'here the fight was raging. In her haste she had forgotten her banner ; she rode back, and, without dis- mounting, had it given to her from the window, and then she galloped to the gate whence the sally had been made. On hex way she met some of the wounded French who had been car- ried back from the fight. Ha !" she exckvimed, " I never can see French blood flow without my hair standing on end." She rode out of the gate, and met the tide of her countrymen, who liad been repulsed from the English fort, and were flying back to Orleans in confusion. At the sight of the Holy Maid and hei banner they rallied, and renewed the assault. Joan rode for- ward at their head, waving her banner and cheering them on. The English quailed at M'hat 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 saving. All her woman's gentleness returned when the combat was over. It was the first time that she had ever seen a battle-field. She wcp' at the sight of so many bleeding corpses ; and her tears flowed doul>ly when slie reflected that they were the bodies of Christian men who had died without confession. The next day was Ascension day, and it was passei by Joan AT OKLEANS 2*il u prayer. But on the following morrow it was resolved by liio chiefs of the garrison to attack the English forts on the south of tlie river. For this purpose they crossed the river in boats, and after some severe fighting, in w^hich the Maid was wounded iu the h^cl, both the English bastilles of the Augustins and St. Jean d<' Blanc Avere captured. The Tourelles were now the only post which the besiegers held on the south of the river. But that post was formidably strong, and by its command of the bridge, it wa,3 the key to the deliverance of Orleans. It was known that a fresh English army was approaching under Fasloli'e to re-en- force the besiegers, and should that army arrive while the Tou- relles were yet in the possession of their comrades, there wae great peril of all the advantages which the French had gained being nullified, and of the siege being again actively carried oji. It was resolved, therefore, by the French to assail the Tourel- les at once, M'hile the enthusiasm which the presence and the he- roic valor of the Maid had created was at its height. But tbe enterprise was difficult. The rampart of the tete-du-pont, or landward bulwark, of the Tourelles was steep and high, and Sir John Gladsdale occupied this all-important fort with five hund- red 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 Ton relies " with light hearts and heavy hands." But Gladsdale'e men, encouraged by their bold and skillful leader, made a reso- lute and able defense. The Maid planted her banner on the edge of the fosse, and then springing down into the ditch, she placed tlie first ladder against 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 Jowii from the wall to capture her, but her followers bore her ofT. ^lle was carried to the rear, and laid upon the grass ; her armor was taken off, and the anguish of her wound and the sight of hci blood made her at first tremble and weep. But her conlldence in her celestial mission soon returned : her patron saints seemed to stand before her, and reassiue her. She sat up and drew the 232 JO^N OF ART S VIOVORT arrow ou. wi.h her own hands. Some of the soldiers "W'ho Btoo'l by wished to stanch the blood by saying a charm over the wound ; but she forbade them, saying that she did not wish to be cured by unhallowed means. She had the wound dressed with a little oiJ, and then bidding her confessor come to her. she betook her- Eelf to prayer. In the mean while, the English in the bulwark of the Tourel- ]&% had repulsed the 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 ! 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 mar- velously." The faintness caused by her wound had now passed off, and she headed the French in another rush against the bul- wark. The English, who had thought her slain, were alarmed at her reappearance, while the French pressed furiousiy and fa- natically forward. A Biscayan soldier was carrying Joan's ban- ner. She had told the troops that directly the bannei 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 SM'armed 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 Tou- relles on the northern side. Gladsdale resolved to withdraw his men from the landward bulwark, and concentrate his whole force in the TourcUes theinsel.ves. He was passing for this purpose across the draw-bridge that connected the Tourelles and the teto- du pont, when Joan, who by this time had scaled the wall of the iuiwark, called out to him, " Surrender I surrender to the King of Iliaven Ah, Glacidas, you have foully M^ronged nie with your words, but I have great pity on your soul and the souls of youj men" The Englishman, disdainiVi' of her summons, was strid- * "Journal du Si^ge d'Orleans," p. 87. AT C K L E A N3 2od mg Oil across the draAv-bridf^e, when a cannon shot from the town carried it a\vaJ^ and Gladsdale perishec .n the water that ran b*;iieath. After his fall, the remnant of the Eng^Iish abaiulouod all farther rcsislance. Three hundred of them had been killed in the batlle, and tM'o hundred were made prisoners. Thj broken arch was speedily repaired by the exnlting Orlean- nais, and Joan made her triumphal re-entry into the oity by ths bridgo that had so long been closed. Every church in Orleans rang out its gratulating peal ; and throughout the night, the Bounds of rejoicing echoed, and the bonfires blazed up from the city. But in the lines and forts which the besiegers yet retained on the northern shore, there was anxious watching of the gener als, and there was desponding gloom among the soldiery. Even Talbot now counseled retreat. On the following morning, the Orleannais, from their walls, saw the great forts called " London" and " St. Lawrence" in flames, and witnessed their invaders busy in destroying 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 array op- posite to the city, as if to challenge the garrison to an encounter. The French troops were eager to go out and attack, but Joan for- bade it. The day was Sunday. " In the name of God," she said, " let them depart, and let us return thanks to God." She led the soldiers and citizens forth from Orleans, but not for 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 ban J by the high altar at Rheims, while he was anointed and crowned as King Charles VIL of France. In the interval fihc had taken Jargeau, Troyes, and other strong places, and she had defeated an English army in a fair field at Patay. The en^ Ihusiasin of her countryinen knew no bounds ; but the import- ance of her services, and especially of her primary achievement at Orleans, may perhaps be best praved by the testimony of hex ".iiemies There is extant a fragmant of a letter from th'>. R©« 23 i lOANOFARCSVJCTOHr gent Bedford to liis royal nephew, Henry VI., Ie. which he W wails the turn that the Avar has taken, and especially attributes it to the raising of the siege of Orleans by Joan. Bedford s owu wonls, which are preserved in Rymer,* 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 Vv'hiche tyme, after the adventure fallen to the pei gone of my cousin of Salisbury, whom God assoille, there felle, by the hand of God as it seemeth, a great strook upon your peuple thai was assembled there in grete nombre, caused in grete partie, as y trowe, of lakke of sadde beleve, and of uulevefulle doubte, that thei hadde of a disciple and lyme of the Feende, called the Pucelle, that used fals enchantments and sorcerie '' The whiche strooke and discomfiture nott oonly lessed m giete partie the nombre of your peuple there, but as weU with' drewe the courage of the remenant in merveillous M'yse, and couraiged your adverse partie and ennernys to assemble them forthwith in grete nombre." When Charles had been anointed King of France, Joan be- lieved that her mission was accomplished. And, in truth, the deliverance of France 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 sano tion and the grace of Heaven upon the prince, who had previous ly ruled with mere human authority. Thenceforth he was the Lord's Anointed. Moreover, one of the difficulties that had pre- viously lain in the way of many Frenchmen when called on to support Charles VII. was now removed. He had been publicl} stigmatized, even by his own parents, as no true son of the roya race of France. The queen-mother, the English, and the parti sans of Burgundy called liini the "Pretender to the title of Dau> phin ;" but those wlio had been led to doubt his legitimacy were (iured of their skepticism by the victories of the Holy Maid, and by tho fulfillment of her pledges. They thought that Heaven had now declaicd itself in favor of Charles as the true heir of the crown of St. Louis, and the tales about his being spurious werft thenceforth regarded as mere English calumnies. With this Btrong tide of national feeling in his favor, with victorious g«n ♦ Vol. X., p 40f» ■V, / ^ ^ ... AT OELEANS. ""^®^i Cg/^ ^S*» eralfl and soldiers round him, and a dispirited and divided enemy beibro him, he could not fail to conquer, though his own impru- dence and misconduct, and the stubborn valor which tbe English still from time to time displayed, prolonged the war in Franco '.uitL the civil war of the Roses broke out in England, and left France to peace and repose. Joan knelt before the French king in the cathedral of Rheims, acd 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 ca reer would be a short one. Bnt Charles and his captains wert loth to lose the presence of one who had such an 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 pray- ers, and as exemplary in all religious duties. She still heard her Heavenly Voices, but she now no longer thought herself the ap- pointed minister of Heaven to lead her countrymen to certain vic- tory. 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 her- self doomed to perish in a little more than a year :t but she still fought on as resolutely, if not as exultingly as ever. As in the case of Arminius, the interest attached to individual heroism and virtue makes us trace tbe fate of Joan of Arc aftei she had saved her country. She served well with Charles's army in the capture of Laon, Soissons, Compiegne, Beauvais, anu ether strong places ; but in a premature attack on Paris, in Sep- tember, 1429, the French were repulsed, and Joan was severely 'sj'ounded. In the winter she was again in the field with some of the French troops ; and in the following spring she threw her- lelf into the fortress of Compiegne, which she had herself won for the French king in the preceding autumn, and which A\a8 no"H' besieged by a strong Burgundian force. * "Jf voudrais hien qu'il voulut me faire ramener aupres mes pere el mure, a garder leuis biebis et betail, et (aire ce que je voudmis faire." + "Des le comnienceinent elle avail dit, '11 me faut employer: je at durerai qu'un an, ou guere plus.' " — Michelet, v., p. 101. 236 JOAN OF ARC S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. She was taken prisoner ir. a sally from Cornpiegne, on the 24lh oi" May, and was imprisoned by the Burgundiaus first at Arras, and then at a place called Crotoy, on the Flemish coast, until November, when, for payment of a large sum of money, she was given up to the English, and taken to Rouen, which then. wa» Ihoir main stronghold in France. " Sorrow it were, and shame to tell, The butchery that there befell." And the revolting details of the cruelties practiced upon thia young girl may be left to those whose duty, 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 burned alive in the market-place at Rouen. I will add but one remark on the character of the truest he- roine 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 produced. Let him read of the Heavenly Voice by which Socra- tes believed himself to be constantly attended ; which cautioned him on his way from the field of battle at Delium, and whicli., from his boyhood to the time of his death, visited him with uu- earthly warnings.! Let the modern reader reflect upon this ; and then, unless he is prepared to term Socrates either fool c impostor, let him not dare to deride or vihfy Joan of Arc. * The whole of the " Proces de Condemnation et de Rehabilitation de (eanne D'Arc" has been published in five volumes, by the Societe de ti'Histoire de France. All tlie passages from contemporary chroniclers and poets are added ; and the most ample materials are thus given for acquiring full information on a subject which is, to an Englishman, one of painful inldtest. There is an admirable essay on Joan of Arc in the 133lh number of the "Quarterly." t See Cicero, de Divinatione, lib. i., soc. 41 ; and see the words of Soc 'Btes himself, in Plato, Apol. Soc. : 'On fioi ^eiov n koI daiuoviov yly/trat. Emni ii tovt' iariv ix rraidtx uo^duevov, ^^^ rtf ^lyvo/iiv^, «. r. X. SYK0P9IS OF EVENTS, ETC. 83? SYNOPSIS OP Events between Joan of Arc's Victor? at Or* LEANS, A.D. 1429, AND THE DeFEAT OF THE SPANISH ArMA- DA, A.D. 1588. A.D. 1452. Final expulsion of the English from France. 1453. Confttantinople taken, and the Roman empire of the Jila^t destroyed by the Turkish Sultan Mohammed II. 1455. Commoncement of the civil wars in England between tlie houses of York and Lancaster. 1479. Union of the Christian kingdoms of Spain under Ferdi- nand and Isabella. 1492. Capture of Grenada by Ferdinand and Isabella, and end of the Moorish dominion in Spain. 1492. Columbus discovers the New World. 1494. Charles VIII. of France invades Italy. 1497. Expedition of Vasco di Gama to the East Indies round the Cape of Good Hope. 1503. Naples conquered from the French by the great Span- ish general, Gousalvo of Cordova. 1508. League of Cambray by the pope, the emperor, and the King of France against Venice. 1509. Albuquerque establishes the empire of the Portuguese in the East Indies. 1516. Death of Ferdinand of Spain; he is succeeded by his grandson Charles, afterward the Emperor Charles V. 1517. Dispute between Luther and Tetzel respecting the saie of indulgences, which leads to the Reformation. 1519. Charles V. is elected Emperor of Germany. 1520 Cortez conquers Mexico. 1525. Francis First of Spain defeated and taken prisoner by the imperial army at Pavia. 1529. League of Smalcald formed by the Protestant princei of Germany. 1533. Henry VIII. renounces the papal supremacy. 1533. Pizarro conquers Peru. 1556. Abdication of the Emperor Charles V., Philip II. be- romes King of Spain, an i Ferdinand I. Emperor of Germany. 1557. Ehzabeth becomes dueen of England. 1557. The Spaniards t'efeat the French at the battle of 8l Q,uentin. S38 SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 1571. Don John of Austria, at the head of the Spanish fleet, aided by the Venetian and the papal squadrons, defeats the Turks at Lepanto. 1572. Massacre of the Protestants in France on St. BarthoIo< mew's day. 1579, The Netherlands revolt against Spain. 1580 Philip II conquers Portugal. DCFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 239 CHAPTER X THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, A.D 1588. In that memorable year, when the dark cloud gathered round our coasta, ^heii Europe stood by in fearful suspense to behold what should be th6 result of that great cast in the game of humin politics, what the craft of Home, the power of Philip, the genius of Farnese could achieve against the island-queen, with her Drakes and Cecils — in that agony of the Prot- estant faith and English name. — Hallam, Const. Hist., vol. i., p. 220. On the afternoon of the 19th of July, A.D. 1588, a group of English captains was collected at the Bowling Green on the Hoo at Plymouth, whose equals have never before or since been brought together, even at that favorite mustering place of the heroes of the British navy. There was Sir Francis Drake, the first En- glish circumnavigator of the globe, the terror of every Spanish coast in the Old World and the New ; there was Sir John Haw- kins, the rough veteran of many a daring voyage on the African and American seas, and of many a desperate battle ; there was Sir Martin Frobisher, one of the earliest explorers of the Arctic seas, in search of that Northwest Passage which is still the darling ob- ject of England'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 dismantle part of the fleet, though the queen 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 contemporary writers describe as being of a wise and noble courage, skillful in sea matters, wary and provident, and of great esteem among the sailors) resolved to risk his sov ereign's anger, and to keep the ships afloat at his own charge, rather than that England should run the peril of losing thei* protection. Another of our Elizabethan sea-kings. Sir Walter Raleigt wag at that time commissioned to raise and equip the land-forces of Cornwall ; but we may well believe that he must have availed himself of the opportunity of consulting with the lord admiral 240 DiSFEAT OS* and the other high officers, which was offered by the EnghBh fleet putting into Plymouth ; and we may look on Raleigh ai one of the group that was assemVled at the Bowling Green on the Hoe. Many other brave men and skillful mariners, besides the chiefs whose names have been mentioned, were there, enjoy- ing, with true sailor-like merriment, their temporary relaxation from duty In the harbor lay the English fleet with which thpy had just returned from a cruise to Corunrid in search of mforma- lion respecting the real condition and rriovements of the hoptile Armada. Lord Howard had ascertain^-d that our enemies, though tempest-tossed, were still formidably strong ; and fearing that Dart of their fleet might make foi 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 Span- iai'd's approach. A match at bowls was being played, in which Drake and other high officers of the fleet were engaged, when a small armed ves gel was seen runnmg before the wind into Plymouth harbor with all sails set. Her commander landed in haste, and eagerly sought the place where the English lord admiral 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 morning 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 ; but Drake coolly checked his comrades, and insisted that the match should bi'' 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 ever was scored was resumed accordingly. Drake and his friends aimed their last bowls with the same steady, calculating cool- ness with which they were about to point their guns. The win- ning 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 tlie messengers and signals had been dispatched fafet and far through England, to warn each town and village that the enemy had come at last. In every sea-port there was instant making ready by land and by sea ; in every shire and every city there was instant mustering of horse and man.* But ♦ In Macaulay's Ball?d on the Spanish Armada, the transmission ««f THE SPANISH ARMADA 241 England's hest defense then, as ever, was in her fleet ; and after warping laboriously out of Plymouth harbor against the wind, th*^ lord admiral stood westward under easy sail, keeping an anx ious look-out for the Armada, the approach of which was soon auncunced by Cornisl '^sher-boats and signals from the Cornish rlills. 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 re- flection and care, to comprehend the full extent of the peril which England then ran from the power and the ambition of Spain, or to appreciate the importance of that crisis in the his- tory of the world. We had then no Indian or colonial empire, save the feeble germs of our North American settlements, which Raleigh and Gilbert had recently planted. Scotland was a sep- arate kingdom ; and Ireland was then even a greater source of weakness and a worse nest of rebellion than she has been in after times. Q,ueen Elizabeth had found at her accession an en- cumbered 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 pow- ers ; and even some of her subjects w^ere warped by religious bigotry to deny her title, and to look on her as a heretical usurp- er. It is true that during the years of her reign which had passed away before the attempted invasion of 1588, she had re- vived the commercial prosperity, the national spirit, and the na- tional 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 them- selves struggling hard, and, as it seemed, hopelessly, to maintain their revolt against Spain. On the other hand, Philip II. was absolute master of an em- pire so superior to the other states of the world in extent, in re sources, and especially in military and naval forces, as to make the project of enlarging that empire into a universal monarchy the tidings of the Armada's approach, and X\\e. arming of the English na- tion, are ningnificentiy descrihcHl. Tiie progress of the fire-signals is de- picted in lines which are worliiy of coinparison witii the renowned pas- sage in the Agauieninon, which describes the transmission of the beao.in- Ight announcing the fall of Troy from Mount Ida to Argos. L 242 DEFEAT OF seem a perfectly feasible scheme ; and Philip had both the am bition to form that project, and the resolution to ilcvote all hii energies and all his means to its realization. Since the down- fall of the Roman empire no such preponderating power had ex- isted in the world. During the mediaeval centuries the chief European kingdoms were sloMdy molding themselves o.it of the feudal chaos ; and though the wars with each other were numer- ous and desperate, and several of their respective kings figured for a time as mighty conquerors, none of them in those times ac quired the consistency and perfect organization which are. requi site for a long-sustained cai'eer 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 successfully practiced by Eu- ropean statesmen. But when Philip II. reigned, France had be- come 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 round the continent of Europe without discerning a single antagonist of whom ho could stand in awe. Spain, when he acceded to the throne, was at the zenith of her poM'er. 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 can not be debased in a single generation ; and the Spaniards under Charles V. and Philip II. proved the truth of the remark, that no nation is ever so formidable to its neighbors for a time, as a nation which, after being trained up in self-gov- ernment, passes suddenly under a despotic ruler. The energy of democratic institutions survives for a few generations, and t( it ars superadded the decision and certainty which are the at tributes nf government when all its powers are directed by a Biiigle mind. It is true that this preternatural vigor is short lived : national corruption and debasement gradually follow the loss of the national liberties ; but there is an intorvaJ before THE SPANISH ARMADA. 243 their workings are felt, and in that interval the most ambitious schemes of i'oreign conquest are often successfully undertaken. I'hilip had also the advantage of finding" hiniself at the head of a large standing army in a perfect slate of dii3ipline and equip- ment, in an age when, except some few insignificant corps, stand- ing armies were unknown in Christendom. The renown of the Spanish troops was justly high, and the infantry in particular was considered the best in the world. His fleet, also, was fat more numerous, and better appointed than that of any other Eu- ropean power ; and both his soldiers and his sailors had the con- fidence in themselves and their commanders which a long career of successful warfare alone can create. Besides the Spanish croAvn, 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 Suuda Islands, and a part of the Moluccas. Beyond the Allanlic 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, Avere 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 sceptre all the possessions which his father had bequeathed to him. But he had reconquered a large number of the towns and districts that originally took up arms against him. Belgium was brought more thoroughly into iinpHcit obedience tc Spain than she had I een before her insurrection, and it was only Holland and the six other northern stales that slill held out against his arras. TIio roatest 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 vicit>:i- tudcs of warfare, and on whose steadines.s and loyalty perfect re iianco might be placed throughout any enlerpriec, however dilfi- cnlt and tedious. Alexander Farnese, prince of Parma, captain general of the Spanish armies, and governor of the Spanish pos- spssions in th" NctherUnds, was beyond all comparison the great 244 DEFEAT OF est military gniius of his age. He was also highly distiiigdished for political wisdom and sagacity, and for his great administra- tive talents. He was idolized by his troops, whose affections he knew how to win without relaxing their discipline or diminishing his o^wTi authority. Pre-eminently cool and circumspect in hiu plans, but swift and energetic when the moment arrived for strik- ing a decisive blow, neglecting no risk that caution could provide against, conciliating even the populations of the districts which he attacked by his scrupulous good faith, his moderation, and his address, Farnese was one of the most formidable generals that ever could be placed at the head of an army designed not only tc win battles, but to efi^ect conquests. Happy it is for England and the world that this island was saved from becoming an arena for the exhibition of his powers. Whatever diminution the Spanish empire might have sustain- ed in the Netherlands seemed to be more than compensated by the acquisition of Portugal, which Philip had completely conquer- ed in 1580. Not only that ancient kingdom itself, but all the fruits of the maritime enterprises of the Portuguese, had fallen into Philip's hands. All the Portuguese colonies in America, Africa, and the East Indies acknowledged the sovereignty of tht King of Spain, who thus not only united the whole Iberian pen insula under his single sceptre, but had acquired a transmarine empire little inferior in wealth and extent to that which he had inherited at his accession. The splendid victory which his fleet, in conjunction with the papal and Venetian galleys, had gained at Lepanto over the Turks, had deservedly exalted the fame of the Spanish marine throughout Christendom ; and when Philip had reigned thirty-five years, the vigor of his empire seemed un broken, and the glory of the Spanish arms had increased, and was increasing throughout the world. One nation only had been his active, his persevering, and hii successful foe. England had encouraged his revolted subjects in Flanders against him, and given them the aid in men and u)onoy, withoiit which they must soon have been humbled in the dust English ships had plundered his colonies ; had defied his suprem- acy in the New World as well as the Old ; they had inflicted gnominious defeats on his squadrons ; they had captured his cities, and burned his arsenals on the very coasts of Spain. The Knglish had made Philip himself the object of personal insult THE SPANISH ARMADA. 24d He was held up to ridicule in their stage-plays and masks, and these scofis at the man had (as is not unusual in such cases) ex cited the anger of the absolute king even more vehemently than the injuries inflicted on his power.* Personal as well as polit- ical revenge urged him to attack England. Were she once sub- dued, the Dutch must submit ; France could not cope with him, the empire would not oppose him ; and universal dominion seem- ed sure to be the result of the conquest of that malignant island. There was yet another and a stronger feeling which armed K ng Philip against England. He was one of the sincerest and cne of the sternest bigots of his age. He looked on himself, and was looked on by others, as the appointed champion to extirpate heresy and re-establish the papal power throughout Europe. A powerful 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 Spain. Belgium, which had previously been half Protestant, had been reconquered both in allegiance and creed by Philip, and had be- come one of the most Catholic countries in the world. Half Germany had been won back to the old faith. In Savoy, 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 off the supineness of recent centuries, and, at the head of the Jesuits and the other new ecclesiastical orders, was dis- playing a vigor and a boldness worthy )f the days of Hildebrand, or Innocent III. Throughout Continental Europe, the Protestants, discomfited and dismayed, looked to England as their protector and refuge. England was the acknowledged central point of Protestant pow- er and policy ; and to conquer England was to stab Protestant- ism to the very heart. Sixtus V., the then reigning pope, earn- estly exhorted Philip to this enterprise. And when the tidings reached Italy and Spain that the Protestant Q.ueen of England had put to death her Catholic prisoner, Mary Q.:ieen of Scots, tlie fury of the Vatican and Escurial knew no bounds. Eliza beth was denounced as the murderous heretic whose de;5tructio« «'us an instant duty. A formal treaty was concluded (in J'luf • Spe Ranke's " Hist, Popes," vol. ii , p. 170. 246 DEFEAT or 1587), by which the pope bound nimself to ^^cntribute a miUion Df scudi to the expenses of the war ; the money to be paid as soon as the king had actual possession of an English port. Phil- ip, on his part, strained the resources of his vast empire t^ 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 preparations for lbs great armament were urged forward with all the eaniestnes of religious zeal as well as of angry ambition. " Thus," says the German historian of tl e popes,=^ " thus did the united pow- ers of Italy and Spain, from which such mighty influences had gone forth over the whole world, now rouse themselves for an attack upon England I The king had already compiled, from the archives of Simancas, a statement of the claims which he had to the throne of that country on the extinction of the fltuart line ; the most brilliant prospects, especially that of a universal dominion of the seas, were associated in his mind with this en- terprise. Every thing seemed to conspire to such an end ; the predominancy of Catholicism in Germany, the renewed attack upon the Huguenots in France, the attempt upon Geneva, and the enterprise against England. At the same moment, a thor- oughly Catholic prince, Sigismund III., ascended the tluone 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 unlimited supremacy in Europe, some vigorous re- eistance to it, having its origin in the deepest springs 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 round the coasts of their native island. The Protestants in a body — even the Puri- tans, although they had been subjected to as severe oppres.sions ag the Catholics — rallied round their queen, who now gave ad- mirable proof of her jaj^ij^^jj^ii^courage, and her princely talent of winning the aflections, and leading the minds, and preserving the .'O'ceiancc of men." Ranke should have added that the English Catholics at tluB ciisis proved themselves as loyal to their queen and true to their country as were the most vehement auti-Cathohc zealots it the ♦ Ranke, vol. ii., p. ITS THE S1'A^ISH ARMADA 247 island. Sonic few traitors there were ; but as a body, thft En glisluneii who held the ancient faith stood the trial of their pat- riotism nobl) . The lord admiral himself was a Catholic, and (to adopt the words of Hallam) " then it Avas that the Catholics in every county repaired to the standard of the lord lieutenant, imploring that they might not be suspected of bartering the national independence for their religion itself" The Spaniard found no partisans in the country which he assailed, nor did En- gland, self-wounded, " Lie at the proud foot of her enemy." For upward of a year the Spanish preparations had been act- ively and unremittingly urged lorward. Negotiations were, dur- ing this time, carried on at Ostend, in which various pretexts were assigned by the Spanish commissioners for the gathering together of such huge masses of shipping, and such equipments of troops in all the sea-ports which their master ruled ; but Phihp himself took little care to disguise his intentions ; nor could Eliz- abeth and her able ministers doubt but that this island was the real object of the Spanish armaraent. The peril that was wisely foreseen was resolutely provided for. Circular letters from the queen were sent round to the lord lieutenants of the several coun- ties, requiring them " to call together the best sort of gentlemen under their lif'ntenan?y, and to declare unto them these great preparations and arrogant threatenings, now burst forth in action upon the seas, wherein every man's particular state, in the high- est degree, could be touched in respect of country, liberty, wives, children, lands, lives, and (which was specially to be regaried) the profession of the true and sincere religion of Christ. And tc 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 hard and cruel government holden m countries not far distant. We do look," said the queen, " thai the most part of them should have, upon this instant extraordi naiv occasion, a larger proportion of furniture, both for hor^cineu and footmen, but especially horsemen, than hath been cei tilled ■ theicby to be in their best strength against any attempt, or to be employed about our own person, or othei-wise. Hereunto ae we doubt not but by your good endeavors they will be the rather tonformable so also we assure ourselves that Alnrighty God will 24t D i: F E A T OP" BO bless these their lOyal hearts borne toward us, their loving soy ereign, and their natural country, that all the attempts of any enemy whatsoever shall be made void and frustrate, to their con- fusion, 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 com- m unity the appeal was responded to with liberal zeal, that offer- ed more even than the queen required. The boasting threats of the Spaniards had roused the spirit of the nation, and the whole people "were thoroughly irritated to stir up their Avhole forces for their defense against such prognosticated conquests ; 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 man- ner, 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 attejid upon the armies. And to this general furniture every man voluntarily offered, very many their services personally with- out wages, others money for armor and weapons, and to wage 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."! Our lion-hearted queen showed herself worthy of such a peo- ple. A camp was formed at Tilbury ; and there Elizabeth rode through the ranks, encouraging her captains and her soldiers by her presence and her words. One of the speeches which she ad dressed to them during this crisis has been preserved ; and, though often quoted, it must not be omitted here. ''My loving people," she said, " we have been persuaded by t/ome that are careful of our safety to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery ; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loi ing peo- plr Let tyrants fear I I have always so behaved rnyself, that, ♦ Strypo, cited in Soutliey'r "Naval History." •t Copj of contemporary letter in the Harleian Collection, quoted by Southey. T H E b P A .N 1 S il A K M A D iS.. 24 i under God, I liave placed my cliicrest strength and safeguard in the loyal heart'- ami good will of my subjects ; and, therefore, I am <'ome among you, as you see, at this time, not for my recrea- tion and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the baltle, to live or die among you all, to lay down for iny God, for my kingdom, and for my people, my honor and my blood even in the dust. ] know I have the body but of a weak and feeble t\-oman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a King of Englan " too, and think it foul scorn that Parma, ox Spain, or any prir.ce of Europe 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 already, for your forwardness, you have desei-ved rewards and crowns ; and we do assure you, on the word of a prince, 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* equipment of the armies, and that the enemy, when he attempt- ed to land, should be welcomed with a battle on the shore. But the wiser counsels of Raleigh and others pi'evailed, who urged the importance of fitting out a fleet that should encounter the Spaniards at sea, and, if possible, prevent them from approach- ing the land at all. In Raleigh'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 prop- er policy of England when menaced with invasion. Without djubt, 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 im- Mediate crisis which called theia forth. Raleigh says :* "Sure- ly I hold thai the b(>st way is to keep our enemies from trjid- mg upon our ground ; wherein if we fail, then must wc 8e(;k tc make him wish that he had stayed at his own home. In such • " Hislorie of the WorM," p. 799-«ai. L 2 liiiO DEFEAT OF t» case, if it should happen, our judgn^euts are to weigh ir.an} particular ciTcumstances, that belongs not unto t/iis discourse. But making the question general, the positive, Whether Eu* gland, toithout the help of her Jleet, be able to debar ..« etuniy frof/i landing, I hold that it is unable so to do, and therefore 1 think it most dangerous to make the adventure ; for the encour- agenvent of a first victory to an enem)^ and the discouragement of being beaten to the invaded, may draw after it a most peril- ous consaquence. ' Great difference I know there is, and a diverse considera lion to be had, between such a country as France is, strength- ened with many fortified places, and this of ours, where our ram parts are but the bodies of men. But I say that an army to be transported over sea, and to be landed again in an enemy's coun- try, and the place left to the choice of the invader, can not 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 ev- ery creek, port, or sandy bay had a powerful army in each of them to make opposition. For let the supposition be granted that Kent is able to furnish twelve thousand foot, and that those twelve thousand be layed in the three best landing-places with- in that country, to wit, three thousand at Margat, three thou- sand at the Nesse, and six thousand at Foulkstone, that is, some- what equally distant from them both, as also that two of these troops (unless some other order 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 enemy, setting sail from the Isle of Wight, in the first watch of the night, and towing their long boats at their 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 1o re-enlbrcc 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 four shot of groat artillei) , and quickly put the first three thousand that arv intrenched at the Nesse to run. or else give them so nuich to io that they shall b^ gl^id to sen 1 for help to Foulkstone, and perhaps tc Margat, whereby those plajes will be left bare. Now THE SPANISH ARMaDA. 25 > «t U8 suppose that all the twelve thousand Kentish soldiers ar nve at the Nesse ere the enemy can be ready to disembarque hia army, so that he will find it unsafe to land in the far« of so many prepared to withstand him, yet must wc believe tluit he will play the best of" his own game (having liberty to go v. hich way he list), and under covert of the night, set sail toward the east, where what shall hinder him to take ground either at Mar- pat, the Downos, or elsewhere, before they at the Nessc can bi; well aware of his departure ? Certainly there is nothing more easy than to do it. Yea, the like may be said of Weymouth, I'ur- beck, Poole, and of all landing-places on the southwest ; for there is no man ignorant that ships, without putting themselves out of breath, will easily outrun the souldiers that coast them. 'Les armecs ne volent foint en poste ;' ' Armies neither flye noi run post,' saith a marshal of France. And I know it to be true, that a fleet of ships may be seen at sunset, and after it at the Lizard, yet by the next morning they may recover Portland, M'hereas an army of foot shall not be able to march it in six dayes. Again, when those troops lodged on the sea-shores shall be forced to run from place to place in vain, after a fleet of ships, they will at length sit down in the midway, and leave all at advcntm-e. But Bay it M'ere otherwise, that the invading enemy will ofler to land in some such place where there shall be an army of ours ready to receive him ; yet it can not be doubted but that when the choice of all our trained bands, and the choice of our command- ers and captains, shall be drawn together (as they were at Til- bury in the year 1588) to attend the person of the prince, and for the defense of the city of London, they that remain to guard the coast can be of no such force as to encounter an army like into that wherewith it was intended that the Prince of Parma ehould have landed in England. " For end of this digression, I hope that this question shall never conie to trial : his majesty's many movable forts will forbid the experience. And although the English will no less disdain, than any nation under hcavtn can do, to be beaten upon their cAvn ground, or clsew^here, by a forein enemy, yet to entertain thoso that shall assail us, with their own beef in their bellie* and before thijy eat of our Kentish capons, I take it to be the wisest way; to do which his majesty, after God, will employ his good shipi on the sea, and not trust in any mtrenchmen* upon the shore. ' 252 DEFEAT OF The introduction of steam as a propelling power at sea ha« added ten-fold "weight to these arguments of Raleigh. On the other hand, a well-constructed system of rail-ways, es}.eciaJly of coast-lines, aided by the operation of the electric telegraph, would give facilities for concentrating a defensive army to oppose an enemy on landing, and for moving troopo from place to place in observation of the movements of the hostile fleet; such as would have astonished 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 bmger correct. Armies can be made to pass from place to place almost with the speed of wings, and far more rapidly than any post-traveling that vias known in the Elizabethan or any other age. Still, the presence of a sufficient armed force at the right Epot, 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 policy of Raleigh is that which England should ever seek to follow in defensive war. At the time of the Armada, that policy certainly saved the country, if not from conquest, at least from deploralle calamities. If indeed the enemy had land- ed, we may be sure that he would have been heroically opposed. But history shows us so many examples of the superiority of vet eran 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 En- glish land. Especially must we feel this when we contrast the high military genius of tlie Prince of Parma, who would have headed the Spaniards, with the imbecility of the Earl of Leices ter, to whom the deplorable spirit of favoritism, which furm^^d the great blemish on Elizabetli's characl-n", had then committed the chief command of the English armies. The ships of the royal navy at this time amounted to no more than thirty-six ; but the most serviceable merchant vessel." were collected from all the ports of the country ; and the citizens of Lfr.don, Bristol, and the other great seats of commerce shoved 4S .iberal a zeal in equipping and manning vessels, as the nobili- ty and gentry displayed in muslering forces by land. The sea- faring population of the coast, of every rank and station, was an imatcd by the same ready spirit ; and the whole number of sea men who <>.ame forward to man the English fleet was 17,4/5 T U K SPANISH A K M A D A . 252 The number of the ships that were collected was 191 , and th« total anioujit of llieir tonnage, 31,985. There was one ship w the tieet (the Triumph) of 1100 tons, one of 1000, one of 900. two of 800 each, three of 600, five of 500, five of 400, six of 300, six of 250, twenty of 200, and the residue of inferior bur^ den. Application was made to the Dutch for assistance ; and, as Slowe expresses it, " The Hollanders came roundly in, with threescore sail, braA'e ships of war, fierce and full of spleen, not ID niuoh lor England's aid, as in just occasion for their own de- fense : these men torcseeing the greatness of the danger that might ensue if the Spaniards should chance to win the day and get the masteiy over them ; in due regard whereof, their manly courage was inferior to none." We have more minute information of the number and equip- ment of the hostile forces than we have of our own. In the first volume of Hakluyt's "Voyages," dedicated to Lord Effingham, who commanded against the Armada, there is given (from the contemporary foreign writer, Meteran) a more complete and de- tailed catalogue than has perhaps ever appeared of a similar armament. " A very large and particular description of this navie v.'aa put in print and published by the Spaniards, wherein were set downe the number, names, and burthens of the shippes, the num- ber of mariners and soldiers throughout the whole fleete ; like wise the quantitie of their ordinance, of their armor, of buD-ats, of match, of gun-poulder, of victuals, and of all their navall fur- niture was in the saide description particularized. Unto all these were added the names of the governours, captaines, noblemen, and gentlemen voluntaries, of whom there was so great a multi- tude, that scarce was there any family of accompt, or any one principall man throughout all Spaine, that had not a brother, Bonne, or kinsman in that fleete ; who all of them were in good hope to purchase unto themselves in that navie (as they torrnej it) invincible, endless glory and renown, and to possess themselves ui great seigniories and riches in England and in the Lov/ Cjur- trcys. But because the said description was translated cr.d pub- lished out of Spanish into divers other languages, we v^Jil. her? Oiiiy make ar. abridgement or biief rehearsal thereof. " Portugall funii.shed and set focrth under the conduc'. ri" tlia Duke of Medina Sidonia, general! of the fleete, 10 galecRi?. 2 7.8 iiii DtfEAT OF braes, 1300 mariners, 3300 souldiers, 300 great pieces, Avith ah requisite furniture. '• Biscay, under the conduct of John Marlines de Eicahle, ad- miral of the whole fleete, set forth 10 galeons, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 2000 souldiers, 250 great pieces, &c. " Guipusco, under the conduct of Michael de OquenJo, 10 gal- e!>i.?, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 2000 souldiers, 310 great pieces ' Italy, with the Levant islands, uiider Martine de A'^ertcnidona, 10 galeons, 800 mariners, 2000 souldiers, 310 great pieces, &c. " Castile, under Diego Flores de Valdez, 14 galeons, 2 pata- ches, 1700 mariners, 2400 souldiers, and 380 great pieces, &c. " Andaluzia, under the conduct of Petro de Valdez, 10 galeons, 1 patache, 800 mariners, 2400 souldiers, 280 great pieces, &c. " Item, under t'he conduct of John Lopez de Medina, 23 great Flemish hulkes, with 700 mariners, 3200 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 de Mandrana, 4 gallies of Portugall, with 888 gally-slaves, 360 mariners, 20 great pieces, and other requi- site 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 oares, being appointed to performe necessary serv- ices under the greater ships, insomuch that all the ships apper- tayning to this navie amounted unto the summe of 150, eche one being sufficiently provided of furniture and victuals. " The number of mariners in the saide fleete Avere above 8000, of slaves 2088, of souldiers 20,000 (besides noblemen and gen- tlemen voluntaries), of great cast pieces 2600. The foresaid ships Mere of an huge and incredible capacitie and receipt, for the whole fleete was large enough to conlaine the burthen of 60 000 tunnes. ' The galeons were 64 in number, being of an huge bignesse, and very flatoly built, being of marveilous force also, and so high thai they resembled great castles, most fit to defend themselvia and to wiilistand any assault, but in giving any other ships fhc cncounler iarr inferiour unio tlie English and Dutcli ships, which can with great dexteritie weild and turne themselves at all as- THE SPANISH VKMADA. 26^ layes. The upper worke of the said galeons was. of tliiclviK.-.-sc and sticn^lh sufRcieut to beare off musket-shot. The lower worke ar» the timbers thereof were out of measure strong, being framed of plankes and ribs foure or five foote in thicknesse, inso- much that no bullets could pierce them but such as were dis- charged hard at hand, which afterward prooved true, for a jrrcat number of bullets were founde to sticke fast within the massio Bubstance of those thicke plankes. Great and well-pitched ca- bles Avere twined about the masts of their shippes, to strengthen them against the battery of shot. " The galhasses were of such bignesse that they contained within them chambers, chapels, turrets, pulpits, and other com- modities of great houses. The galliasses were rowed with great oares, there being in eche one of them 300 slaves for the same purpose, and were able to do great service with the force of their ordinance. All these, together with the residue afore- named, v»-ere furnished and beautified with trumpets, streamers, banners, warlike ensignes, and other such like ornaments. "Their pieces of brazen ordinance were IGOO, and of yron a 1000. "The bullets thereto belonging were 120,000. " Item of gun-poulder, 5600 quintals. Of matche, 1200 quin> cals. Of muskets and kaleivers, 7000. Of haleberts and parti- sans, 10,000. " Moreover, they had great stores of canons, double-canons, Bulverings and field-pieces for land services. " Likewise they were provided of all instrnmenis 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 pioners 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 j)erson in the whole fleete halfe a quintall every moneth, whereof the whole .summe amounteth unto an hundreth thousand quintals. "Likewise of wine they had M7,000 pipes, sufficient also for halfe a yeere's expedition. Ofbaijon, 6500 quintals. Of cheese, 3000 quintals. Besides llsh, rise, beanes, pease, oile, vinegar, kc Moreover, they had 12,000 pipes of fresh water, and all othoi uecessary prov sion as niimely candles, lauternes, lamp ss, sailea 1166 DEFEAT OP hempe, oxe-hides, and lead, to stop holes that should be made wiiS 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 Dieg: Pimentelli E^'^.erward confessed) was estiemed by the king bin sclfe to containe 32,000 persons^ and to cost him every day 30, COO ducates. '• There were in the said navie five terzaes of Spaniards (which tei'zaes the Frenchmen call regiments), under the lommand of five governours, termed by the Spaniards masters of the field, and among the rest there were many olde and expert souldiera chosen out of the garisons of Sicilie, Naples, and Ter^era. Their captaines or colonels were Diego Pimentelli, Don Francisco de Toledo, Don Alonfo de Lufon, Don Nicolas de Isla, Don Augus- tin de Mexia, who had eche of them thirty-two companies under their conduct. Besides the which companies, there were many bands also of Castilians and Portugals, every one of which had their peculiar governours, captains, officers, colors, and weapons." 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 ships and of flat-bottomed boats "or the transport to England of the picked troops, which were aesigned to be the main 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 ofl^ Calais. Then, e^5Corted by an overpowering naval force, Parma and his army were to embark in their flotilla, and cross the sea to England, where they were to be landed, together with the troops which the Armada brought from the ports of Spain. The scheme was nol dissimilar to one formed against England a little more than two centuries afterward. As Napoleon, in 1805, M'aited with his army and flotilla at .Boulogne, looking for Villeneuve to drive away the English sniiscrs, and secure him a passage across the Oiannel, so Par- ma, in 1588, waited for Medina Sidonia to drive away the Dnich and English squadrons that watched his flotilla, and to enable liis vetr-raiis to cross tlie sea to the land tliat they were to conquer. Thanks to Providence, in each case England'" eueinj waited ir vain i THE SPANISH A 11 M A X) A . 23l Although the numbers of sail which the queen's govetnmenl ftnd the patriotic zeal ol" volunteers had collected for tlie defease of England exceeded the number of sail in the Spanish fleet, th" Ejjglish ships were, collectively, far inferior in size to their ad versaries, their aggregate tonnage being less by half than thai of the enemy. In the number of guns and weight of metal, the diejiroportion was still greater. The English admiral was also iii:liged to subdivide his force ; and Lord Henry Seymour, with loity of the best Dutch and English ships, was employed in block- id ing the hostile ports in Flanders, and in preventing the Duke of Parma from coming out of Dunkirk. The Invincible Armada, as the Spaniards in the pride of their hearts named it, set sail from the Tagus on the 29th of May, but near Corunna met with a tempest that drove it into port with cevei'e loss. It was the report of the damage done to the enemy by this storm Avhich had caused the English court to suppose that there W'ould he no invasion that year. But, as al- ready mentioned, the English admiral had sailed to Corunna, and learned the real slate of the ease, whence he had 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 Roads, where the Princt. of Parma's squadron \vas to join him. The hope 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 I'esumcd 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 Enghsh as might come up with hirn. T. was on Saturday, the 20th of July, that Lord Effingham came in sight of his ibrmidable adversaries. The Armada was drawn up in form of a crescent, which, from horn to horn, meaa- UTeJ some seven miles There w.is a southwest wind, and be- fore it the vast vessels sailed slowly on. The English let tlieni pays by ; and th3n, following in the rear, commenced an attack or them. A running fight now look place, in which some of the best ships of the Spaniards were captured ; many more reccuved 2&8 DEFEAT OF heavy damage ,, while the English vessas, which took caie no' to close with thiir huge antagonists, but availed themselves of their superior celerity in tacking and maneuvering, suffered little 2ompaiative loss. Each day added not only to the spirit, but tc the number of Effingham's force. Raleigh, Oxford, Cumberland, and Sheffield joined him ; and " the gentlemen of England hired rlijps from all parts at their own charge, and with one accord Lame flockirg thither as to a set field, where glory was to be at- tained, and faithful service performed unto their prince and their country." Raleigh justly praises the English admiral for his skillful tac- tics. Raleigh says,* " Certainly, he that will happily perform a fight; at sea must be skillful 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 is a great deal of difl'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 to- gether, 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, ad- miral of England, been lost in the year 1588, if he had not been better advised than a great many 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 him- self with those great and powerful vessels, he had greatly endan- gered this kingdom of England ; for twenty men upon the de- fenses are equal to a hundred that board and enter; wheieaa then, contrariwise, the Spaniards had a hundred, for twenty of oars, to defend themselves withal. But our admiral knew his ad- vantage, and lield it ; which had he not done, he had not been \*orthy to have held his head." The Spanish admiral also showed great judgment and firmness .11 following the line of conduct that had been traced out for him ; ai.d on the 27th of July, he brought his fleet unbroken, though «oiely distressed, to anchor in Calais Roads. But the King of Spain had calculated ill the number and the activity of the Bn • "Historic of the World," p. 791. THE SPANISH AUMADA. 2/13 glibh and Dutch fleets ; as the old historian expiesses it, " It Bcemeth that tlie Duke of" Parma and the Spaniards grouiidsd npou a vain and presumptuous expectation, that all the ships of England and of the Low Couutreys would at the first sight of the Spanish and Dunkerk navie have betaken themselves to flight, yeelding them sea-room, and endeavoring only to defend them- eelues, their havens, and sea-coasts from invasion. Whereiore their intent and purpose was, that the Duke of Parma, in his Email and flat-bottomed ships, should, as it were under the shadow and wings of the Spanish fleet, convey ouer all his troupes, ar- mor, and war-like provisions, and with their forces so united, should invade England ; or Avhile 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 bankes where- of having at the first arrivall lauded twenty or thirty thousand of his principall souldiers, he supposed that he might easily have woonne the citie of London ; both because his small shippes should have followed and assisted his land forces, and also for that the citie it-selfe was but meanely fortified and easie to ouer- come, by reason of the citizens' delicacie and discontinuance from the warres, who, with contiimall and constant labor, might bt vancpiished, if they yielded not at the first assault."* But the English and Dutch found ships and mariners enougli to keep the Armada itself in check, and at the same time to block up Parma's flotilla. The greater part of Seymour's squadron left its cruising-ground off' Dunkirk to join the English admiral ofl" Calais ; but the Dutch manned 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 that were in Parma's power. Still it was resolved by the S})ani&h admiral and the prince to endeavor to effect a junction, wliich the Enghsh seamen were equally resolute to prevent ; and bolder measures on our side now became necessary. The Armada lay ofT Calais, with its largest ships ranged cut- side, " like strong castles fearing no assault, the lesser plac»d in the middle ward." The English admiral could not attack them ,'n their position without great disadvantage, but on the night ol • Hakluyt's '♦ Vojages," vol. i., p. 601. 860 DEFEAT OF the 29th he sent eight fire-ships among them, with almost equa^ efFect to that of the fire-ships which the Greeks so f ften employ* ed against the Turkish fleets in their late war of independence. Tlie Spaniards cut their cables and put to sea in confusion. One of the largest galeasses ran foul of another vessel and was strand- ed. The rest of the fleet was scattered about on the Flemish coast, and when the morning broke, it was with difficulty and de" lay that they obeyed their admiral's signal to range themselves round him near Gravcilines. Now was the golden opportunity for the English to assail them, and prevent them from ever let- ting loose Parma's flotilla against England, and nobly was that opportunity used. Drake and Fenner were the first English cap- tains who attacked the unwieldy leviathans ; then came Fenton, Southwell, Burton, Cross, Raynor, and then the lord admiral, with Lord Thomas Howard and Lord Sheffield. The Spaniards only thought of forming 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 whelps. This was indeed the last and the decisive battle between the two fleets. It is, perhaps, best described in the very words of the contemporary writer, as we may read them in Hak- luyt.* " Upon the 29 of July in the morning, the Spanish fleet after the fofsayd tumult, having arranged themselues againe into or der, were, within sight of Greveling, most bravely and furiously encountered by the English, where they once again got the wind of the Spaniards, who suflijred themselues to be deprived of the commodity of the place in Caleis Road, and of the advantage of the wind neer unto Dunkerk, rather than they would change their array or separate their forces now conjoyned and united to- gether, standing only upon their defense. " And albeit there were many excellent and warlike ships in lie English fleet, yet scarce were there 22 or 23 among theni 11, Avhich matched 90 of the Spanish ships in the bigness, or ould conveniently assault them. Wherefore the English shippea using their prerogative of nimble steerage, whereby they could turn and wield themselues with the Avind which way they liet- Bti. came often limca very near u^ion the Spaniards, and charged • Vol. i., p 602. THE S PA N8K ARMADA. 2GJ them 80 sore, that now and tlien they were but a pike's length asnnder ; and so continually giving them one broad side alter an- other, they discharged all their shot, both great and small, upon them, spending one whole day, from morning till night, in that violent kind of" conflict, untill su.'h time as powder and bullets lailed them In regard of which want they thought it conven- ient not to pursue the Spaniards any longer, because they had many great vantages of the English, namely, for the extraordi- nary bigness of their shippes, and also for that they were so neere- ly conjoyned, and kept together in so good array, that they could by no meanes be foueht withall one to one. The English thought, therefore, that they had right well acquitted themselues in chas- ing the Spaniards first from Caleis, and then from Dunkerk, 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, having many of their shippes shot thorow and thorow, and they discharged likewise great store of ordinance against the English ; who, indeed, sustained some hinderance, 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 English men all that time wherein the Spanish navy sayled upon thei*. seas, are not found to haue wanted aboue one hundred of theii people ; albeit Sir Francis Drake's ship was pierced with shot aboue forty times, and his very cabben was twice shot thorow, and about the conclusion of the fight, the bed of a certaine gen- tleman lying weary thereupon, was taken quite from under him with the force of a bullet. Likewise, as the Earle of Northum- berland and Sir Charles Blunt were at dinner upon a time, the bullet of a demy-culvering brake thorow the middest of their cab- ben, touched their feet, and strooke downe two of the standers-by, w)th many such accidents befalling the English shippes, which it were tedious to rehearse." It reflects little credit on the English government that the English fleet was so deficiently supplied with ammunition as to be unable to complete the destruction of the invaders. But enough was done to insure it. Many of the largest Spanish ships were sunk or captured in the action of this day. And at length tlie Spanish admiral, despairing of success, fled northward with a Jjb2 DEFEAT OF THE J.'ANISH ARMADA.. southerly wind, in the hope of rounding Scotland, and so return' ing to Spain without a farther encounter with the English fleet Lord Effingham left a squadron to continue the blockade of tht Prince of Parma's annament ; but that wise general soon with- drew his troops to more promising fields of action. Meanwhili the lord admiral himself, and Drake, chased the vinoible Armada as it was now termed, for some distance northward ; and then, when the}' seemed to bend away from the Scotch coast toward Norway, it was thought best, in the words of Drake, " to leave them to those boisterous and uncouth Northern seas." The sufferings and losses which the unhappy Spaniards sus- tained 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 Spamsh coast which they had quitted in such pageantry and pride. Some passages from the writings of those who took part in the struggle have been already quoted, and the most spirited de- scription of the defeat of the Armada which ever was penned may perhaps be taken from the letter which our brave Yice-ad- miral Drake wrote in answer to some mendacious stories by which the Spaniards strove to hide their shame. Thus does he Hescribe 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, M'hich 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 afterward, it was happily 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 OAvn kingdom, but strengthened with the greatest argosies, Portugal carrar.ks, Florentines, and large hulks of other countries, were by thirty of her majesty's own ships of war, and a few of our own mer- chants, by the wise, valiant, and advantageous conduct of the Lord Charles Howard, high admiral of England, beaten and shufrieJ together even from the Lizard in Cornwall, first to Port- land, wlien 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 • See Sirype, and the notes to tlie Life of Drake, in he " Biogiaphia Britannica." SYNOPSIS OF E V E X I B, E T - . 26d Calais, drii'en with squibs from their anchors, W'cre chased out of the sight of England, round about Scotland and Iieland ; where, for the sympathy of their religion, hoping to find succor and assistance, a great part of them were crushed against the rooks, and those others that landed, being very many in number, wore, notwithstanding, broken, slain, and taken, and so sent from "liilage to village, coupled in halters to be shipped into England^ v/licre her majesty, of her princely and invincible disposition, dis- daining to put them to death, and scorning either to retain or to entertain them, they were all sent back again to their countries, to witnoss and recovuit the worthy achievement of their invinci- ble and dreadl'ul 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 pre- vention ; with all which their great and terrible ostentation, they did not in all their sailing round about England so much as sint or take one ship, barque, pinnace, or cock-boat of ours, or even burn so much as one sheep-cote on this land." Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, A.D. 1568, and the Battle of Blenheim, A.D 1704. A.D. 1594. Henry IV. of France conforms to the Roman Cath- olic Church, and ends the civil wars that had long desolated France. 1598. Philip II. of Spain dies, leaving a ruined navy and an ciliausted kingdom. 1603. Death of dueen Elizabeth. The Scotch dynasty of tho Pluarts succeeds to the throne of England. 1619. Commencement of the Thirty Years' War in Germany. 1624—1612. Cardinal Richelieu is minister of France. He areaks the power of the nobility, reduces the Hugueuots to com- plete subjection, and by aiding the Protestant German princes in the latter part of the Thirty Years' War, he humihatea France's ancient rival, Austria. 1630. Gustavus Adolphug, King of Sweden, marches into Gei- many to the assistance of the Protestants, -who were nearl^f *.'M SVKOPSIS ( F EVE.\-TS, ETC. crushed by the Austrian armies. He gains several great vicH> ties, and, after his death, Sweden, under his statesmen and geU' erals, continues to take a leading part in the why. 1640. Portugal throws ofl the Spanish yoke ; and the houEe i)f Bragauza begins to reign. 1642. Commencement of the civil war in England between dharles I. and his Parliament. 1648. The Thirty Years' War in Germany ended by the treaty oi Westphalia. 1653. Oliver Cromwell Lord Protector of England. 1600. Restoration of the Stuarts to the English throne. 1601. Louis XIV. takes the administration of affairs in France into his own hands. J.667— 1668. Louis XIV. makes war on Spain, and conquers a large part of the Spanish Netherlands. 1672. Louis makes war upon Holland, and almost overpow- ers it. Charles II., of England, is his pensioner, and England helps the French in their attacks upon Holland until 1674. He- roic 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 throne of Kusgia. 1685. Louis commences a merciless persecution of his Prot* estant subjects. 1668. The glorious Revolution in England. Expulsion o{ James II. William of Orange is made King of England. Janes takes refuge at the French court, and Louis undertakes to restore him. General war in the west of Europe. 1697. Treaty of Ryswick. Charles XII. becomes King of Sweden. 1700. Charles II., of Spain, dies, having bequeathed his do minions to Philip of Anjou, Louis XIV. 's grandson. Defeat of ikt Russians at Narva by Charles XII. 1701. William III. forms a " Grand Alliance" of Austria, th« 'dnpire, the United Provinces, England, and other powers, againat Fiance. 1702. King William dies ; but his successor, dueen Anne, idheres to the Grand Alliance, and war is proclaimed agaiirst ! ranee. BATTLE OF BLENHEiM. 26S CHAPTER XI. CHE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, AD. 1734. '/"he decisive blowstrucit at Blenheim resounded through every paitof r jrope : it at once destroyed the vast fabric of power which it had taiien Louis XIV., aided by the talents of Turenne and tlie genius of Vauban, so long to construct. — Alison. Though more slowdy moulded and less imposingly vast thaiv the empire of Napoleon, the power which Louis XIV. had ac- quired and was acquiring at the commencement of tJie eighteenth century was almost equally menacing to the general liberties of Europe. If tested by the amount of j^ermanent aggrandize- ment wliich each procured for France, the ambition of the royal Bourbon was more successful than were the enterprises of the imperial Corsican. 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 marriages 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 tho Pyrenees. When Louis XIV. took the reins of government into his own hands, after the death of Cardinal Mazarin, there was a union of abihty with opportunity such as Fiance had not seen sinor ihe days of Charlemagne. Moreover, Louis's career was no bnel one. For upward of forty years, for a period nearly equal to the duration of Charlemagne's reign, Louis steadily followed an ag giessive and a generally successful policy. He passed a long youth and raanliood of triumph before the military genius of J\J ari Dorough made him acquainted with humiliation and defeat. The great Bourbon lived too long. He should not have outstayed oui two English kings, one hie dependent, James II., the other hi8 M '46b BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. antagonist, William III. Had he died when they died, his reior. would be cited as unequaled in the French annals for its pn.s perity. But he hved on to see his armies beaten, his cities caj)' tured, and his kingdom wasted year after year by disastrous war, It is as if Charlemagne had survived to be defeated by the Not ill- men, and to witness the misery and shame that actiially fell to the lot of his descendants. Still, Louis XIV. had forty years of success ; and fiom tho pc r- manence of their fruits, we may judge what the results would have been if the last fifteen years of his reign had been equally fortunate. 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 dura- bility. When Louis XIV. began to govern, he found all the materials for a strong government ready to his hand. Richelieu had com- pletely tamed 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, but the countr) which he governed was strong — strong in its geographical situa- tion, in the compactness of its territory, in the number and mar tial spirit of its inhabitants, and in their complete and undivided nationality. Louis had neither a Hungary nor an Ireland in his dominions. The civil war in the Cevenues was caused solely by his own persecuting intolerance ; and that did not occur till late in h'P reign, when old age had made his bigotry more gloomy, and had given 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 grcal minister, Colbert, he supplied them. One of the surest proofs of ♦ "Quand Louis XIV. (lit, ' L'Etat, c'est noi :' il n'y er.i dans cette parole ni cnfliire, ni vantere, nais la simple °nonciatioti .^'ur fait."— MicHELKT, Histoire Moderne, vol. ii , p. 106. KVTTLE OF BLENHfi M. 267 the genius of Louis was his skill in finding out genius in otJierSj and his promptness in calling it into action. Under him, Lou- wois orjjanized, Turenne, Conde, Villars, and Berwick led the ar mies of France, and Vauhan fortified her frontiers. Through out his reign, French diplomacy was marked by skilll'ulness and activity, and also by comprehensive far-sightedness, such as the representatives 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 indebted 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 establishments which belong to every branch of administration, there is not one that will not be found +.0 have had its origin, its development, or its greatest perfection under the reign of Louia 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 administer ing government, propei'ly so called. All the European govern ments had been previously thrown into incessant wars, which de- prived them of all security as well as of all leisure, or so pestered by internal parties or antagonists that their time was passed iu fighting for existence. The government of Louis XIV. was the first to appear as a busy, thriving administration of aflairs, as a power at once definitive and progressive, which was not afraid to innovate, because it could reckon securely on the future. There have been, in fact, very few governments equally innova- ting. Compare it with a government of the same nature, the unmixed monarchy of Philip II. in Spain ; it was more absolute l!ian that of Louis XIV., and yet it was far less regular and tran- (piii. How did Philip II. succeed in establishing absolute f ower in Sjiain ? By stilling all activity in the country, oppcsing him- self to every species of amelioration, and rendering the state 0/ Spain completely stagnant. The government of Lcuis XIV., on the contrary, exhibited alacrity for all sorts of innovations, and ghowed itself favorable to the progress of letters, arts, wealth — la short, of civilization. This was the veritable cause of its prt> • " History of Eurofean Civilization," I>'ctiire 13 S?68 UATTLE OF BLENULIM. ponderance iu Europe, Avhich arose to such a pilchj that it be came the type of a government not only to sovereigns, but also ta 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 enlight- ened and high-spirited sovereign, what European power waa there fit to cope with her or keep her in check ? " As to Germany, the ambitious projects of the German branch 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 imperiaf. eagle was not only fallen, hut her wings ivere clipj^ed."* As to Spain, the Spanish branch of the Austrian house had sunk equally low. Philip II. left his successors a ruined mon- archy. He left them something worse ; he left them his exam pie and his principles of government, founded in ambition, in pride, in ignorance, 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 Bo- lingbroke 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 upon all her allies ever since. Bigotry, *• Bolingbroke, vol. ii., p. 378. Lord Bolingbroke's " Letters on the Use of History," and his " Sketch of the History and State of Europe " abound with remarks on I^ouis XIV. and liis contemporaries, of which the sub- stance IS as sound as the style is beautiful. Unfortunately, like all his otisr works, they contain also a large proportion of sophistry and misrep- resentation. The best test to use before we adopt any opinion or asser- tion of Bolingbroke's, is to consider whether in writing it he was think- ing either of Sir Robert Walpole or of Revealed Religion. When eitiier of these objects of liis hatred was before his mind, he scrupled at no arti- fice or exaggeration that might serve the purpose of his malignity. On most other occasions he may he followed with advantage, as he always may be read with pleasure. t Bolingbrttke, vol ii , p 37S B A T T L E O F 15 L K MI K 1 M. 269 iiuJ its inseparable conipanion, cruelly, as well as the tyranny and avarice of the court of Af lenna, created in those days, and has maintained in ours, almost a perpetual d' (■rsion of the im- perial arms from all eflectual opposition to France. / nnean to S2^cak of the troubles in Hungary. Whatever they became in their j^rogress, they iverc caused originally by the uswyationb and j'ersecutions of the eiwperor ; and when the Hungarians uere called rebels first, they were called so for no other reason than tills, that they ^vould not be slaves. The dominion of the emperor being less supportable than that of the Turks, this un- happy people opened a door to the latter to infest the empire, in stead of making their country, what it had been before, a bar rier 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 Coun- tries on the other."* If, after having seen the imbecility of Germany and Spam against the France of Louis XIV., we turn to the two only re- maining 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 con- template ; nor is our external history 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 pre- ceding twenty-eight years. From 1660 to 1668, "England, by the return of the Stuarts, was reduced to a nullity." The words are Michelet's,t and, though severe, they are just. They are, in fact, not severe enough ; for when England, under her restored dynasty of the Stuarts, did take any part in European politics, her conduct, 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 toM^ard acquiring such exorbitant power as gave him well-grounded hopes of acquiri.ig at last to his family the Spanish monarchy, England had bcm either an idle spectator of what passed on the (Continent, or a faint and uncertain ally against J rauce, or 4 * Bolingbroke, vol. ii., p. 397. t ' Histoire Moderne," vol. ii , p. 106. 27G BATTLE OF liLENHEIM. warm iiid sure ally on her side, or a partial nicaiaior Tjttweec her and the po^A•ers confederated together in their common de- fense. But though the court of England submitted to abet the usurpations of France, and the King of England stooped to be her pensioner, the crime was not national. On the contrary, the nation ciied out loudly against it even while it was commit- ting.* Holland alone, of all the European powers, opposed from the very begiim^ing a steady and uniform resistance to the ambition and power of the French Idng. It was against Holland that the fiercest attacks of France were made, and, though often appar- ently on the eve of complete success, they were always ultimate- ly baffled by the stubborn bravery of the Dutch, and the heroism of their great leader, William of Orange. Wlien he bocame King of England, the power of tliis country was thrown decidedly into the scale against France ; but though the contest was thus ren dered less unequal, though William acted throughout " with in- vincible firmness, like a patriot and a hero,"t France had the general superiority in every war and in every treaty ; and the commencement of the eighteenth century found the last league, against her dissolved, all the forces of the confederates against her dispersed, and many disbanded ; while France continued armed, with her veteran forces by sea and land increased, and lield in readiness to act on all sides, whenever the opportunity 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. 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 Aix- la Chapelle, which " was nothing more than a composition be- tweei: the bully and the bullied ;"$ of his attack on Holland ia 1672 ; of the districts and barrier towns of the Spanish Nether- lands, which A\'ere secureu to him by the treaty of Nimeguen in 1678 ; of how, after this treaty, he "continued to vex both Spain and the empire, and to extend his conquests in the Low Coun- tiios and on the Rhine, both by the pen and the sword; how he took Luxembourg by force, stole Strasburg, and bought Casal ;" of how the league of Augsburg was formed against him in 1686, and the election of William of Orange to the English throne is • Bolingbroke, vol. ii., p. 418 t Ibid., p. 404. t Ibid., p. 39\i. BATTLE ) F li L i: N 11 E I ; I. 27 1 1 688 gave a new spirit to tlie opposition which France enc^unl k'red ; ol" the long and checkered war that followed, in which tl;e French armies were generally victorious on the Continent, though his fleet was beaten at La Hogue, and his dependent, James II., was defeated at the Boyne ; or of the treaty of RysM'ick, which left France in possession of Roussillon, Artois, and Strasburg, which gave Europe no security against her claims on the Span- ish succession, and which Louis regarded as a mere truce, to gain breathing-time before a more decisive struggle. It must be borne in mind that the ambition of Louis in these wars was two-fjld It had its immediate and its ulterior objects. Its immediate ob ject was to conquer and annex to France the neighboring prov- inces and towms that were most convenient for the increase of her strength ; but the ulterior object of Louis, from the time of his marriage to the Spanish Infanta in 1659, was to acquire for the house of Bourbon the whole empire of Spain. A formal re- nunciation of all right to the Spanish succession had been made at the time of the marriage ; but such renunciations were never of any practical efi'ect, and many casuists and jurists of the age even held them to be intrinsically void. As the time passed on, and the prospect 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 Spanish 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 Philip, duke of Anjou, one of Louis XIV. 's grandsons, to succeed him on the throne of Spain, and strictly forbade any partition of his domin- ions. Louis well knew^ that a general European Avar would fol- low if he accepted for his house the crown thus bequeathed. But he had been preparing for this crisis throughout his reign. He Bent his grandson into Spain as King Philip V. of that country, addressing to him, on his departure, the memorable words, " There are no longer any Pyrenees." 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, (ind other possessions in Paly, the Philippines and Manilla Isl- ands in Asia, and in the New World, besides California av) Florida the greatest part of Central and of Southern Ame''*' 272 BATTLE OF BLENHEIM Philip was well received in Madrid, where he was crowned aa King Philip V. in the beginning of 1701. The distant portions of his empire sent in 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 por- tions of the empire of the great rival of Francis, Charles V. Loud was the wrath of Austria, whose princes were the rival cjairaants of the Bourbons for the empire of Spain. The indig- nation 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 Aus- trian emperor, which was subsequently joined by the Kings of Portugal and Prussia, by the Duke of Savoy, and by Denmark. Indeed, the alarm throughout Europe was nov/ general and ur- gent. It was evident that Louis aimed at consolidating France and the Spanish dominions into one preponderating empire. At the moment 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 thrjne of France. And Louis had himself obtained possession of thij important frontier of the Span ish Netherlands with its numeious 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 disposal. The peril that seemed to menace the empire, England, Hol- land, 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 their being able to make head against them both, united under •uch a monarch as Louis XIV. ?"* Our knowledge of the decayed state into wliich the Spanish power had fallen ought not to make us regard their alarms as chi- merical. Spain possessed enormous resources, and her strength was capable ol being regenerated by a vigorous ruler. We should remember what Alberoni efi'ected even after the close of the war nf Succession. By what that minister did in a few years, we may ♦ "Military History of the Duke of Marlborough," p. 3S. BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 273 judge what Louis XIV. would have done in restoring the mari' time and military power of that great country, which nature had 6o largely gifted, and which man's misgovernment has so de- based. The death of King William, on the 8th of March, 1702, a. first seemed likely to paralyze the league against France ; "for. notwithstanding the ill success with which he made war gener- ally, he was looked upon as the sole centre 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 wpi indecent joy they expressed on a false report of his death. ^%. short time showed how vain the fears of some, and the hopes of others were."* dueen Anne, M'ithin three days after her accession, went down to the House of Lords, and there declared her resolution to support the meas- ures planned by her predecessor, who had been " the great sup- port, not only of these kingdoms, but of all Europe." Anne was married to Prince George of Denmark, and by her accession to the English throne the confederacy against Louis obtained the aid 3f the troops of Denmark ; but Anne's strong attachment to one of her female friends led to far more imjwrtant advantages to the anti-Gallican confederacy than the acquisition of many armies, for it gave them Marlborough as their captain general. There are few successful commanders on whom Fame hM shone so unwillingly as upon John Churchill, duke of Marlbor- ough, prince of the Holy Roman Empire, victor of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet, captor of Liege, Bonn, Limburg, Landau, Ghent, Bruges, Antwerp, Oudenarde, Ostend, Menin, Dendermonde, Ath, Lille, Toui'uay, Mons, Douay, Aire, Bethune, and Bouchain ; who never fought a battle that he did not win, and never besieged a place that he did not take. Marl- borough's own character is the cause of this. Military gloi-y may, and too often does, dazzle both contemporaries and poster- ity, until the crimes as well as the vices of heroes are forgotten. But even a few stains of personal meanness will dim a soldier's raputation irreparably ; and Marlborough's faults were of a pe- culiarly base and mean order. Our feelings toward historical personages are in this respect like our feelings toward private a;C(4uaiutances. There are actions of that shabby nature, that, * Bolingbroke, vdl. ii., p. 445. M2 274 BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. Iio^^ever uiucli they may be outweighed by a man's gov)il ileeiia on a general estimate of his character, we never can feel any cordial liking for tht person w^ho 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 througli his sister becoming one of the mistresses of the Duke of York. It is repulsive to know that Marlborough laid the foun- dation of his wealth by being the paid lover of one of the fail and frail favorites of Charles II.* His treachery, and his in- gratitude to his patron and benefactor, James II., stand out in dark relief even in that age of thankless perfidy. He was al- most equally disloyal to his new master, King William ; and a more un-English act can not be recorded than Godolphin's and Marlborough's betrayal to the French court in 1694 of the ex- pedition then designed against Brest, a piece of treachery which caused some hundreds of English soldiers and sailors to be help- lessly slaughtered on the beach in Cameret Bay. It is, hoAvever, 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 comparison 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 mark- ed praise of that great tactician. It would be difficult, indeed, to name a single quality which a general ought to have, and with which Marlborougli was not eminently gifted. What prin- cipally attracted the notice of contemporaries was the impertui'b- able evenness of his sj)irit. Voltairef says of him, " He had, to a degree above all other generals of his tim(5, that calm courage in the midst of tumult, that serenity of soul iu danger, wliich the English call a cool head [que les Anglaia u.pi)ellent cold head, tcte froide\, and it was, perhaps, tliis qiuil- ity, the greatest gift of nature for connnand, which formerly gavo * Ma Ihoroiigh miglil plcnd tlio pxatrijilr of Sylla in tliis. Compare tin RTiocdote in Plutarch about Sylla wlien youn;^ and Nicopolis, kowt/; fisv, ti'Ttopov 6e 7iivaf^of, and tlie anecdote ahont Marllmroui,'!! and the Duchess «f Oeveland, told hy Lord Chesterfield, and cited in Macaulay's " Histo rj," vol. :.,!>. 461. t "Siecle de Louis Quatorze." BATTLE OF BLENIIKIM. 273 tne English so many advantages over the French in the plains of Cres.fy, Poictiers, and Agincourt." King William's knowledge of Marll. trough's high abilities, 'hough he knew his faithlessness equally well, is said to have caused that sovereign in his last illness to recommend Marlbor- ough to his successor as the fittest person to command her ai miss ; but Marlborougli's favor with the new queen, by means of liis wife, was so high, that he was certain of obtaining the highest employment ; and the war against Louis op* ned to him a glorious theatre for the display of those military talents, which he had previously only had an opportunity of exercising in a sub- ordinate 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 trans- ports of joy by the Dutch, and it was agreed by the heads of that repubhc, 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 was by no means all that was required of him in this arduous and invidious station. Had it not been for his unrivaled patience and sweetness of temper, and his mar- velous ability in discerning the character of those whom he had to act with, his intuitive perception of those Avho were to be thoroughly trusted, and of those who were to be amused with the mere semblance of respect and confidence ; had not Marl- borough possessed and employed, while at the head of the allied armies, all the qualifications 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 great political adversary, Bolingbrokc, dors him ample justice here. Bolingbroke, after referring to the loss which King William's death seemed to infiict on the causp of the allies, observes that, " By his death the Duke of Marlbor- ough was raised to the head of the aimy, and, indeed, of the con- federacy ; where he, a new, a private man, a subject, acquired by merit and by management a more deciding influence than \iigh birth, coufij-med authoring, and even the crown of Great 276 BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. Britain had given to King William. Not only all the parts of that vast machine, the Grand Alliance, were kept more compact and entire, hut 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 where in he appeared, and many of those wherein he was not then a a actor, hut ahettor, however, of their action, were crowned with the most triumphant success. " I take with pleasure this oppoitunity 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 formally declared by the allies against France on the 4th of May, 1702. The principal scenes of its operation were, at first, Flanders, the Upper Rhine, and North Italy. Marlborough headed the allied troops in Flanders during the first two years of the w'ar, and took some towns from the enemy, but nothing decisive occurred. Nor did any actions of import- ance take place during this period between the rival armies in Italy. But in the centre of that line from north to south, from the mouth of the Scheldt to the mouth of the Po, along which the war was^ carried on, the generals of Louis XIV. acquired advantages iri 1703 which threatened one chief member of the Grand Alliance with utter destruction. France had obtained the important assistance of Bavaria as her confederate in the war. The elector of this powerful German state made himself master of the strong fortress of Ulm, and opened a communica- tion with the French armies on the Upper Rhine. By this junc- tion, the troops of Louis were enabled to assail the emperor in the very heart of Germany. In the autumn of the year 1703, the combined armies of the elector and French king completely de- feated the Imperialists in Bavaria ; and in the following winter they made themselves masters of the important cities of Augs- burg and Passau. Meanwliile the French army of the Upper Rhine and Moselle had beaten the allied armies opposed to them, and taken Treves and Landau. At the same time, the discon- tents in Hungary with Austria again broke out into open insur- rection, so as to distract the attention and complete the terror of the emperor and his council at Vieima. * Bolingbroke, vol. ii., p. 446. BATTLi; OF BLENHEIM. 277 Louife XIV. ordered the next campaign to be comnieMced by his ti'oops ou a scale of grandeur and with a boldness of entei prise such as even Napoleon's military schemes have seldom oqualed. On the extreme left of the line of the war, in the Neth.erlands, the French armies were to act only on the defens ive. The fortresses in the hands of the French there were so many and so strong, that no serious impression seemed likely to be made bj thi- allies on the French frontier in that quarter dur* ing one campaign, and that one campaign was to give France such triumphs elsewhere as would (it w^as hoped) determine the war. Large detachments were therefore to be made from the French force in Flanders, and they were to be led by Marshal Villeroy to the Moselle and Upper Rhine. The French army akeady 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 Hungar)', 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 prog- ress of the French arms on the Rhine and in Bavaria, and ht saw the futility of carrying on a war of posts and sieges in Flan- ders, while death-blows to the empire were being dealt on the Danube. He resolved, therefore, to let the war in Flanders lan- guish 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, m the first instance, to overcome the still greater difficulty of obtaining the consent and cheerful co-operation of the allies, especially of the Dutch, whose frontier it was proposed thus to deprive of the larger part of the force which had hitherto been its protection. Fortunately, among the many slothi'ul, the many foolish, the many timid, and the not few treacherous rulers, statesmen, and 278 BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. generals of different nations with whom he had to deal, there W(u-e two men, eminent both in ability and integrity, who entered fully into Marlborough's projects, and who, from the stations M'hich they occupied, 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, supported Marlborough in the councils of the allies ; the other was the 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, Marlborough commuru- cated his plan freely and unreservedly ; but to the general coun- cils of his allies he only disclosed part of his daring scheme. He proposed to the Dutch that he should march from Flanders to the Upper E-hine and Moselle with the British troops and part of the foreign auxiliaries, and commence vigorous operations against the French armies in that quarter, while General Auver- querque, with the Dutch and the remainder of the auxiliaries, maintained a defensive war in the Netherlands. Having with difficulty obtained the consent of the Dutch to this portion of his project, he exercised the same diplomatic zeal, with the same suc- cess, in urging the King of Prussia, and other princes of the empire, 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 oi May. The army which he was to lead had been assembled by his brother. General Churchill, at Bedburg, not far from Maes tricht, on the Meuse : it included sixteen thousand English troops, and consisted of fifty-one battalions of foot, and ninety-two squad- rons of horse. Marlborough was to collect and join with him on his march the troops of Prussia, Luneburg, and Hesse, quartered on the Rhine, and eleven Dutch battalions that were stationed at Rothweil.* He had only marched a single day, when the scries of interruptions, complainis, and requisitions from the other leaders of the allies began, lo which he seemed subjected thi-ough- out his enterprise, and which would have caused its failure in the hands of any one not gifted with the firmness and the exquisite temper of Marlborough. One specimen of these annoyances and ■f Marlborough's mode of dealing with them, may suffice. On • Coxe'£ " L '"e of Marlborough." BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. li/b his -;\ic«,mpHig a-t Kupen on the 20th, he received an express Iroin Auverqiierque pressing him to halt, because Villeroy, who coin manded the French army in Flanders, had quitted the lines which he had been occujiyiug, and crossed the Meuse at Namur with thirty-six battalions and lorty-five squadrons, and was threaten- lug the town of Huys. At the same time Marlborough received letters from the Margrave of Baden and Count Wratislaw, who commanded the Imperialist forces at Stollhoffen, near the left bank of the Rhine, stating that Tallard had made a movement, as if intending to cross the Rhine, and urging liim to hasten his march toward the lines of Stollhoften. Marlborough M'as not di- verted by these applications from the prosecution of his grand de- sign. Conscious that the army of Villeroy would be too much reduced to undertake offensive operations, by the detachments which had already been made toward the Rhine, and those which must ibllow his own march, he halted only a day to quiet the alarms of Auverquerque. To satisfy also the margrave, he order- ed the troops of Hompesch and Bulow to draw toward Philips- burg, though with private injunctions not to proceed beyond a certain distance. He even exacted a promise to the same efiect from Count Wratislaw, who at the juncture arrived at the camp to attend him during the whole campaign.* Marlborough reached the Rhine at Coblentz, where he crossed that river, and then marched along its left bank to Broubacb and Mentz. His march, though rapid, was admirably conduct- ed, so as to save the troops from all unnecessary fatigue ; ample supplies of provisions were ready, and the most perfect discipline was maintained. By degrees Marlborough obtained more re- enforcements from the Dutch and the other confederates, and he also was left more at liberty by them to follow his own course. Indeed, before even a blow was struck, his enterprise had par- alyzed the enemy, and had materially relieved Austria from the pressure of the war. Villeroy, with his detachments from the French Flemish army, was completely bewildered by Marlbor- ough's movements ; and, unable to divine where it was that the English general meant to strike liis blow, wasted away the early part of the summer between Flanders and the Moselle withou; pflecting any thing. t « Coxe. i ' Marshal Villeroy," sLys Voltaire, " who had wished to follow Marl 880 BATTLE OF BLENHEJM Marshal Tallard, who comiaarided forty-fivo thousand Frencii at Strasbnrg, and who had been destined by Louis to march ear- ly in the year into Bavaria, thought that Marlborough's march along the Rhine was preliminary to an attack upon Alsace ; and the marshal therefore kept his forty-five thousand men back in order to protect France in that quarter. Marlborough skillfully encouraged his apprehensions, by causing a bridge to be construct- ed across the Rhine at Philipsburg, and by making the Land- grave of Hesse advance his artillery at Manheim, as if for a eiege of Landau. Meanwhile the Elector of Bavaria and Mar- shal Marsin, suspecting that Marlborough's design might be what it really proved to be, forbore to press upon the Austrians opposed to them, or to send troops into 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 uu- combined, and unable to check him. " With such skill and science had this enterprise been concert- ed, that at the very moment when it assumed a specific direc- tion, 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 sta- tioned on the Rhine, to order their march so as to join the main body in its progress. At the same time, directions were sent to accelerate the advance of the Danish auxiliaries, who were marching from the jSTetherlands."* Crossing the River Neckar, Marlborough marched in a south' eastern direction to Mundelshene, where he had his first personal interview with Prince Eugene, who was destined to be his col- league on so many glorious fields. Thence, through a difficult and dangerous country, Marlborough continued his march against the Bavarians, whom he encountered on the 2d of July on the heights of the Schullenberg, near Donauwert. Marlborough Btoimed their intrenched camp, crossed the Danube, took several Btro'.ig places in Bavaria, and made himself completely master of the alector's dominions, except the fortified cities of Munich and Augsburg. But the elector's army, though defeated at Don- borough on his first marches, suddenly lost sight of him altogether, ana only learned where he really was on hearing of his victory at Donawert." Siicle de Louis XIV. * Coze. BATTLl:: OP ULENUEIM. 28 J auwert, was still numerous and strong ; and at last Marsha] Talianl, when thoro.ighly apprised of the real nature of Marl borough's movements, crossed the Rhine ; and being suff'erod, through the supineness of the German general at StoUhofien, tc march without loss through the Black Forest, he united hie pow- erful army at Biberbach, near Augsburg, with that of the elect- or and the French troops under Marshal Marsin, who had pre- viiusly been co-operating with the Bavarians. On the other hand, IMarlborough recrossed the Danube, and on the 11th of August united his army with the Imperialist forcea 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 Marlborough'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, betM'een Blenheim and Lutzingen, and with the little stream of the Nebel between them and the troops of Marlborough and Eugene. The Gallo-Bavarian army con- sisted of about sixty thousand men, and they had sixty-one pieces of artillery. The army of the allies was about fifty-six thousand strong, with fifty-two guns. Although the French army of Italy had been unable to pene- trate into Austria, and although the masterly strategy of Marl- borough had hitherto M'arded ofi' 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 roused into action. There was nothing to stop that general and his army from marching into Franconia, whence the allies drew their principal supplies ; and besides thus distressing them, he might, by marching on and joining his army to those of Tal- lard and the elector, forin a mass which would overwhelm the force under Marlborough and Eugene. On the other hand, the ohances o." a battle seemed perilous, and the fatal consequences of a defeat were c<;rtain. The disadvantage of the allies in point of number was not very great, but still it was not to be disre- garded ; and the advantage which the enemy seemed to have iu the composition of their troops was striking. Tallard and Mar wn had forty five thousand Frenchmen under them, all veterans ;J82 BATTLE OF BLENHEIM and all trained to act together : the elector's own troojis also were good soldiers. Marlborough, like Wellington at Waterloo, head- ed an army, of" which the larger proportion consisted not of En- ghsli, but of men of many difi'erent nations and many different languages. He was also obliged to be the assailant in the ac- tion, and thus to expose his troops to comparatively hea\^ los at the commencement of the battle, while the enemy would fighi tmder the protection 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 Alii ince, and reahzed the proudest hopes of the French ki»g. Mr Alison, in his admirable military history of the Duke of Marl borough, has truly stated the effects which would have taken place if France had been successful in the war ; and when the position of the confederates at the time when Blenheim waa fought is remembered — when we recollect the exhaustion of Austria, the menacing insurrection of Hungary, the feuds and jealousies 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, guided 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 spiritual thraldom over the minds of men. France and Spain united under Bourbon princes and in a close family alliance — the empire of Charlemagne with that of Charles V. — the power which revoked the Edict of Nantes and perpe- trated the massacre of St. Bartholomew, with that which ban- ished the Moriscoes and established the Inquisition, Avould have proved irresistible, and beyond examjde destructive to the best iJileiests of mankind. "The Protestants might have been driven, like the pagan hea- Vhcns of old by the son of Pepin, beyond the Elbe ; the Stuart race, and with them Romish ascendency, might have been re-es- Iriblislied in England ; the fire lighted by Latimer and Ridley r.-iight have been cxiiiiguished in blood ; and the en;rg) breatlied by religious freedom into the Anglo-Saxon race might have rx- BATTLE OF B^^ENHCIM. 2i^'d pi red. The destinies of the world would have been changed. Europe, instead of a variety of indepnident states, whose mutual hostility kept alive courage, while their national rivalry stimu- lated talent, would have sunk into the slumber attendant on uni- versal dominion. Tlic colonial empire of England would have withered away and perished, as that of Spain has done in the grasp of the Inquisition. The Anglo-Saxon race would have been arrested in its mission to overspread the earth and subdue it. The centralized despotism of the Roman empire would have been re newed on Continental Europe ; the chains of Romish tyranny, and with them the general infidelity of France before the Re /olu- tion, would have extinguished or perverted thought in the B: :tish Tslands."* Marlborough's words at the council of war, when a battle waa resolved on, are remarkable, and they deserve recording. We know them on the authority of his chaplam, Mr. (afterward Bishop) Hare, who accompanied him throughout the campaign, and in whose journal the biographers of Marlborough have found many of their best materials. Marlborough's words to the officers who remonstrated with him on the seeming temerity of attacking the enemy in their position w^ere, " 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 Frencli occupied the rismg 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, formed their left. Beyond Lutzingen are the rugged high grounds of the Godd Berg and Eich Berg, on the skirts of which some detachments were posted, BO as to secure the Gallo-Bavarian position from being turned on the left flank. The Danube secured their right flank ; and it was only m front that they could be attacked. The villages of Bleu- heiin and Lutzingen ha I been strongly palisadoed and intren :hod •Alison's Ij.fe of Marlborough 'p 248. 284 BATTLE OF BLENHKIAI. Marshal Tallard, who held the chief command, took his statiuB at Blenheim ; the elector and Marshal Marsm commanded on the left. 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 Lutzin- gen. The centre was occupied by fourteen battalions of infantry, iiicl'iiding the celebrated Irish brigade. These were posted in the little hamlet of Oberglau, which lies somewhat nearer to Lutzin- gen than to Blenheim. Eighty squadrons of cavalry and seven battalions of foot were ranged between Oberglau and Blenheim. Thus the French position was very strong at each extremity, but was comparatively weak in the centre. Tallard seems to have relied on the swampy state of the part of the valley that reach- es 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 destined to act against Tallard, while Prince Eugene led the other division, which consisted chiefly of cavalry, and was intend ed to oppose the enemy under Marsin and the elector. As they approached the enemy, Marlborough's troops formed the left and the centre, 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 cov- ered the ground, and it was not until the allied right and centre had advanced nearly within cannon shot of the enemy that Tal- lard was aware of their approach. He made his preparationa with what haste he could, and about eight o'clock a heavy fire of artillery was opened from the French right on the advancing left wing of the British. Marlborough ordered up some of his bat- teries to reply to it, and while the columns that were to form the allied left and centre deployed, and took up their proper stations in the line, a warm cannonade was kept up by the guns on both eides. The ground which Eugene's columns had to traverse was pe- culiarly difficult, especially for the passage of the artillery, and It was nearly mid-day before he could get his troops into line op- potite to Lutzingen. During this interval, Marlboiougli ordered divine service to be performed by the chaplains at the head of BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 2bt» »ach 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 from the right with the welcome news that Eugene was ready, Marlborough instantly sent Lord Cutts, Avith a strong brigade of infantry, to assault the village of Blenheim, while he himself led the main body down the eastward slope of the valley of the Ne bel, and prepared to effect the passage of the stream. The assault oi\ Blenheim, though bravely made, was repulsed with severe loss , and Marlborough, finding how strongly that village 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 had been prepared, and planks and fascines had been collected ; and by the aid of these, and a little stone bridge which crossed the Kebel, near a hamlet called Unterglau, that lay in the centre of the valley, Marlborough succeeded in getting several squadrons across the Nebel, though it was divided into several branches, and the ground between them was soft, and, in places, little bet- ter than a mere marsh. But the French artillery was not idle. The cannon balls plunged incessantly among the advancing squadrons of the allies, and bodies of French cavalry rode fre- quently down from the western ridge, to charge them before they had time to form on the finn ground. It was only by support- ing his men by fresh troops, and by bringing up 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 repulse, which, succeeding the failure of the attack upon Blen- heim, would probably have been fatal to the allies. By degrees, his cavalry struggled over the blood-stained streams ; the infantry w^ere 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 begim to attack the allies on their left with consider- able effect. Marlborough had thus at last succeeded in drawing up the •whole left wdng of his army beyond the Nebel, and was about to press forward with it, when he w^as called away to another part of the field by a disaster that had befallen his centre. The Prince of Holstein Beck had, with eleven Hanoverian battalions, passed the Nebel opposite to Oberglau, when he was charged and 4JS6 BATTLE Ol BLENHEIM. Utterly routed b} the Irish brigade which held that village The Irish drove the Hanoverians back with heavy slaughter, broke completely through the line of the allies, and nearly achieved a success as brilliant as that which the 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 flank of the brigade Avith some squadrons of Br'tish cavaliy. The Irish reeled back, and as they strove to regain the height of Oberglau, their column was raked through and tlirough by the fire of three battalions of the allies, which Marlborough had summoned up from the reserve. Marlborough having re-established the order and communications of the allies in this quarter, now, as he returned to his own left wing, sent tc 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 driven back. It was only by his own desperate personal exertions, and the remarkable steadiness of the regiments of Prussian infantry which were under him, that he was to save his wing from being totally defeated. But it was on the southerr 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 successes, and it was by his cavalry that Blenheim, the greatest of his victories, was won. The bat- tle had lasted till five in the afternoon. Marlborough had now eight thousand horsemen drawn up in two lines, and in the most perfect order for a general attack on the enemy's line along the space between Blenheim and Oberglau. The infantry was drawn up in battalions in their rear, so as to support them if repulsed, and to k'."ep in check the large masses of the French that still occupied the village of Blenheim. Tallard now interlaced hia Bqui^drons of cavalry with battalions of infantrj , and Marlbor- ough, by a corresponding movement, brought several regiments of infantry, and some pieces of artillery, to his front line at inter- vals between the bodies of horse. A little after five, Marlbor- ough commenced the decisive movement, and the allied cavalry, Btrengthenod and supported by foot and guns, advancerl slowly BATTLIC OF 3LEMIiiXM. 2S7 from the lower ground near the Nebel up the slope to where the French cavalry, ten thousand strong, awaited them. On riding over the summit of the acclivity, the allies were received with 60 hot a (ire from the French artillery and small arms, that at first the cavalry recoiled, but without abandoning the high ground. The guns and the infantry M'hich they had brought with them raaintained the contest with spirit and efibct. The French fire seemed to slacken. Marlborough instantly ordered a charge along the hue. The allied cavalry galloped forward at the ene- my's squadrons, 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 in- fantry battalions of their comrades to be ridden down by the tor- rent of the allied cavalry. The battle was now won. Tallard and Margin, severed from each other, thought only of retrea* 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 village to leave it and join him without delay. But, long ere his orders could be obeyed, the conquering squadrons of Marlborough had wheeled to the left 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 Danube ; part fled with their general to the village of Sonderheim, where they were soon surrounded by the victorious allies, and compelled to surrender. Meanwhile, Eugene had renewed his attack upon the Gallo-Bavarian left, and Marsin, finding his colleague utterly routed, and his own right flank uncovered, prepared to retreat. He aud the elector succeeded in withdrawing a considerable part of tlicir 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 ti'oops, and then, collecting his ar- tilleiy 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 battalions and twelve squadrons, with all their officers, hiid down their arms, and be- came the captives of Marlborough. "Such," says Voltaire, "was the celeb -ated battle (vhioh the 2^S SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. French call the battle of Hochstet, the Germans Plenthe^m, aad the English Blenheim. The conquerors had about five thou- sand killed and eight thousand wounded, the greater part beiig on the side ol Prince Eugene. The French army was almost en- tirely destroyed : of sixty thousand men, so long victorious, theie never reassembled more than twenty thousand eflective. Atcnit twelve thousand killed, fourteen thousand prisoners, all the can- non a prodigious number of colors and standards, all the tents and equipages, the general of the army, and one thousand two hundred officers of mark in the power of the conqueror, signal- ized that day !" Ulm, Landau, Treves, and Traerbach surrendered to the allita 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 Louis fought only in defense. Blenheim had dissipated forever his once proud visions of almost universal con- quest. Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Blenheim, A..D 1704, AND the Battle of Pultowa, A.D. 1709. A.D. 1705. The Archduke Charles lands in Spain with a small English army under Lord Peterborough, who takes Barce* lona. 1706. Marlborough's victory at Ramillies. 1707. The English army ir Spain is defeated at the battle of ^manza. 1708. Marlborough's victory at Oudenarde. BATTLE OF PULTCWA ZP9 CHAPTER XII. rHE BATTLE OF PULTOWA, A.D. 17(. 9. 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 tiie triumphant Czar. Byron. Napp ION prophesied, at St. Helena, that all Europe would Boon be "-Uher Cossack or Republican. Three years ago, the ful tlUment of the last of these alternatives appeared most probable But the democratic movements of 1848 were sternly repressed in 1849. The absolute authority of a single niler, and the aus- tere 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 reaction, but the most effective and the most perma- nent have been Russian influence and Russian arms. Russia :s now the avowed and acknowledged champion of monarchy .igainst democracy ; of constituted autliority, however acquired, Against revolution and change, for whatever purpose desired ; of the imperial supreirtaey of strong states over their weaker neigh- bors against all claims for political independence and all strivings ibr separate nationality. She had crushed the heroic Hungari- ins ; and Austria, ior whom nominally she crushed them, is now oi^e of her dependents. Whether the rumors of her being about to engage in fresh enterprises be well or ill founded, it is certain that recent events must have fearfully augmented the power of the Muscovite empire, which, even previously, had been the ob- ject of well-founded anxiety to all Western Europe. It war! truly stated, eleven years ago, that " the acquisitions vrhich Russia has made within the [thenj last sixty-four year* N t'90 B.A.rT];.E OF pultowa. are equal in extent and importance to the whole empire she hiil in Europe before that time ; that the acquisitions she has made from Sweden ar3 greater than what remains of that ancient kingdom ; that her acquisitions from Poland are as large as the whole Austrian empire ; that the territory she has wrested from Tuikey in Europe is equal to the dominions of Prussia, exclusive of her E.henish 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 conquered from Persia is about the size of England ; that her acquisitions in Tartary have an area equal to Turkey 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 ; •■he has approached four hundred and fifty miles nearer to Con- itantinople ; she has possessed herself of the capital of Poland, and has advanced to within a few miles of the capital of Swe- den, from which, when Peter the First mounted the throne, her frontier was distant three hundred miles. Since that time sho has stretched herself forward about one thousand miles toward India, and the same distance toward the capital of Persia."* Such, at that period, had been the recent aggrandizement of Russia ; and the events of the last few years, by weakening and disuniting all her European neighbors, have immeasurably aug- mented the relative superiority of the Muscovite empire over all the other Continental powers. With a population exceeding sixty millions, all implicitly obey mg the impulse of a single ruling mind ; with a territorial area of six millions and a half of square miles ; M'ith a standing army eight hundred thousand strong ; with powerful fleets on the Baltic and Black Seas ; with a skillful host of diplomatic agents plant- ed in every court and among every tribe ; with the confidence which unexpected success creates, and the sagacity which long sxperience fosters, Russia now grasps, with an armed right hand, the langled thread of European politics, and issues her mandates as the arbitress of the movements of the age. Yet a century aw] a half have hardly elapsed since she was first recognized as a member of the drama of modern European history — previous U the batUe of Pultowa, Russia ])layed no part. Charles V. and ' "Progress of Russia in the East," p. 142. BATTLE OF PUI.TOWA. 291 his svL'xi lival, our Elizabeth and her adversary Philip ol' Spain. the Guises, Sully, Richelieu, Cromwell, De Witt, William of Or auge, and the other leading spirits of the sixteenth and seven- teenth centuries, thought no more about the Muscovite Czar than we now think about the King of Timbuctoo. Even as late aa 1735, Lord Bolingbroke, in his admirable " Letters on History,'' speaks of the history of the Muscovites as having no relation to the knowledge which a practical English statesman ought to ac- quire.* It may be doubted whether a cabinet council often takes place now in our Foreign Office without Russia being uppermost •n every English statesman's thoughts. But, though Russia remained thus long unheeded among her snows, there vas 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. This was Sweden ; Swe- den, on whose ruins Russia has risen, but whose ascendency over her semi-barbarous neighbor was complete, until the fatal battio that now forms our subject. As early as 1542 France had sought the alliance of Sweden to aid her in her struggle against Charles V. And the name of Gustavus Adolphus is of itself sufficient to remind us that in the great contest for religious liberty, of which Germany was for thirty years the arena, it was Sweden that rescued the falling cause of Protestantism, and it was Sweden that principally dictated the remodeling of the European state-system at the peace of West- phalia. 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 wi.sdom of Oxenstiern, had placed Sweden, the defeat af Charles XIL at Pultowa hurled hei down at once and forever. Her efl()rts during the wars of thi French Revolution to assume a leading part in European p'litics met win But the Sweden whose sceptre was bequeathed to Chris- tina, and M'hosi alliance Cromwell valued so highly, was a dif- ferent power to the Sweden of the present dav. Finland, In- gria, Livonia, Esthonia, Carelia, and other districts east of the ' Bolinjjhmke's Works, vol ii., p. 374. In the same page he observei how. Sweden had oflen turned her arms southward with prudigious efTet't 292 BATTLE OF PULTOWA Haltie, then wore Swedish provinces ; and the possession ot Ptiiiifv rania, E-iigen, and Bremen made her an important memher of th« Germanic empire. These territories are now all reft from her, and the most valuahle of them form the staple of her victcrioua rival's strength. Could she resume them — could the Sweden of 1648 be reconstructed, we should have a first-class Scandinavian Btate in the North, well qualified to maintain the balance oi power, and check the progress of Russia ; whose power, indeed, never could have become form.idable 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 M^as not merely the crisis of a strug gle between 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 Gemianic race, the Russians are a Sclavonic people. Nations of SclaA^onian origin have long occupied the greater part of Eu- rope eastward of the Vistula, and the populations also of Bo- hemia, 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 excep- tion 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 Russia has done since that time we know and we feel. And some of the wisest and best men of our own age and nations, who have watched with deepest care the annals and the destinies of humanity, have belifeved that the Sclavonic element in the population of Europe has as yet only partially developed its powers ; that, while other races of mankind (our own, the Germanic, included) have exhaust- ed their creative energies and completed their allotted achieve ments, the Sclavonic race has yet a great career to run ; and thai the narrative of Sclavonic ascendency is the remaining page liiat will conchule the history of tlie world. t * The Hussite wars may, perhaps, entitle Bohemia to be diBtingiiished t Sec Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History," p. 36-39 BATTLE U i' 1' L L T U W «. 'J^'j3 Let it not be supposed that in thus regarding the piinuiry tri- uni])h of" Russia over Sweden as a victory of the Sclavonic ovei tlic Germanic race, we are dealing with matters of mere eth- nological pedantry, or with themes of mere speculative curiosity. The fact that Russia is a Sclavonic empire is a fact of immense practical influence at the present moment. Half the inhabitants of the Austrian empire are Sclavonians. The population of the larger part of Turkey in Europe is of the same race. Silesia, Posen, and other parts of the Prussian dominions are principally Sclavonic. And during late years, an enthusiastic zeal for blend- ing all Sclavonians into one great united Sclavonic empire has been growing up in these countries, w'hich, however we may deride its principle, is not the less real and active, and of which Russia^ as the head and the champion of the Sclavonic race, knows well how to take her advantage.* * "The idea ofPanslavism had a purely literary origin. It was slari fid by Kollar, a Protestant clergyman of the Sclavonic congregation at Pesth, in Hungary, who wished to establish a national literature by cir- culating all works, written in the various Sclavonic dialects, through ev cry country where any of them are spoken. He suggested that all the Sclavonic literati should become acquainted with the sister dialects, so that a Bohemian, or other work, might be read on the shores of the Adri- atic as well as on the banks of the Volga, or any other place where 'i Sclavonic language was spoken ; by which moans an extensive literature might be created, tending to advance knowledge in all Sclavonic coun- tries ; and he supported his arguments by observing that the dialects of ancient Greece differed from each other like those of his own lan^juage, and yet that they formed only one Hellenic literature. The idea of an in- tellectual union of all those nations naturally led to that of a political one ; and the Sclavonians, seeing that their numbers amounted to about one tliird part of the whole population of Europe, and occupied more than half Its territory, began to be sensible that they might claim for themselves a position to which they had not hitherto aspired. "The opinion gained ground; and the question now is, whether the Sclavonians can form a nation independent of Russia, or whether they ought to rest satisfied in being part of one great race, with the most pow- erful member of it as ibcir chief. The latter, indeed, is gaining ground among them ; and some Poles are disposed to attribute their sufferings to the arbitrary will of the Czar, without extending the blame to the Rus- sians themselves. These begin to thiidc that, if ibey can not exist aa Poles, the best thing to be done is to rest saii.sfieo wiih a position in the .'^clavo^i<• empire, and they hope that, when once they give up the idea af restoring their country, Russia ma} grant some concessions to the J tepirate nationality. 294 BATTLE OF PULTOWa.. It is a sinf;;u]ar fact that Russia owes her very name to a band of Swedish invaders who conquered her a thousand years ago. They were soon absorbed in the Sclavonic population, and every trace of th.':: Swedish character had disappeared in Russia foi many centums before her invasion by Charles XII. She waa lon^* the victim and the slave of the Tartars ; and for many con- siderable periods of years the Poles held her in subjugation. In deed, if we except the expeditions of some of the early Russian chiefs against Byzantium, and the reign of Ivan Vasilovitch, the history of Russia before the time of Peter the Great is one long ♦ale of suffering and degradation. But, whatever may have been the amount 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 conqueror 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, pro- moted science and literature among barbaric millions ; who gave them fleets, commerce, arts, and arms ; who, at Pultowa, taught them to face and beat the previously invincible Swedes ; and who made stubborn 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 Philip of Macedon resembles most nearly that of the great Muscovite Czar ; but there is this important differ- ence, that Philip had, while young, received in Southern Greece the best education in all matters of p^ace and war that the ablest philosophers and generals of the age could bestow. Peter M'as brought up among barbarians and in barbai-ic ignorance. He strove to remedy this, when a grown man, by leaving all the ♦cmplations to idleness and sensuality which his court offered, and " The same iciea has been put forward by writers in the Russian inter- est ; great efTorts are maireigners, had, before the Swedish invasion, given no proof that they could be relied on. In numerous encounters with the Swedes, Peter's soldiery had run like sheep before inferior numbers. Great discontent, also, had been excited avnong all classes of the com- munity by the arbitrary changes which their great emperor in- troduced, many of which clashed with tht most cherished na • Alison. t Scott's "Life of Napoleon." UATTLli UF PULTOWA. Z3 1 Uonal prejudices of his subjects. A career of victory and pros- perity had not yet raised Peter above the reach of that disaffec- tion, nor had stijierstitious obedience to the Czar yet become the characteristic of the Muscovite mind. The victorious occupation of Moscow by Charles XII. would liave quelled the Russian na- tion as effectually, as had been the case when Batou Khan, and other ancient invaders, captured the capital of primitive Muscovy. How liltlj such a triumph could effect toward subduing mod- L'rn Russia the fate of Napoleon demonstrated at once and for 3ver. The charactei of Charles XII. has been a favorite theme with nistorians, morahsts, philosophers, 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 Avere 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 Napo- leon's strictures on Charles's tactics, and own that his judgment, though severe, is correct, when he pronounces that the Swedish king, unlike his great predecessor Gustavus, knew nothing of the art of war, and was nothing more than a brave and intrepid sol- dier. Such, however, was not the light in which Charles waa regarded by his contemporaries at the commencement of his Rus- sian expedition. His numerous victories, his daring and resolute spirit, combined with the ancient renown of the Swedish arms, then filled all Europe with admiration and anxiety. As John- son expresses 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, was 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 alius, and to prevent the Sv/edish 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 Russia, as he had already doihroned the sovereign of Poland, and all Europe fully behoved that he would entirely crush the Czar, and dictate con jyS L A T T L i; OF P U L T O W A. ditioi's of peace in the Kremlin.* Charles himself looked on tucv cess as a matter of certainty, and the romantic extravagance oi his views was continually increasing. " One year, he thought; would suffice for the conquest of Russia. The court of R.ome was next to f(!el his vengeance, as the pope had dared to oppose the concession of religious liberty to the Sil .vsian Protestants. No enterprise at that time appeared impossible to him. He had even dispatched several officers privately into Asia and Egypt, to tak"«i plans of the towns, and examine into the strength and resources of those countries."! 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 con- dition to have brought together 80,000 of the best troops in the world. He left 10,000 men at Warsaw to guard King Stanis- laus, and in January, 1708, arrived at Grodno, where he win- tered. In June, he crossed the forest of Minsk, and presented himself before Borisov ; forced the Russian army, which occu- pied the left bank of the Beresina ; defeated 20,000 Russians who were strongly intrenched behind marshes ; passed the Borysthenea at Mohilov, and vanquished a corps of 16,000 Muscovites near omolensko on the 22d of September. He was now advanced to the confines of Lithuania, and was about to enter Russia Proper : the Czar, alarmed at his approach, made him proposals of peace. Up to this time all his movements were conform-abie to rule, and his communications were well secured. He was master of Poland and Riga, and only ten days' march distant from Moscow ; and it is probable that he would have reached that capital, had he u'-t quitted the high road thither, and directed his steps toward the Ukraine, in order to form a junction with Mazeppa, who brought him only 6000 men. By this movement, his line of oper- ition*^, beginning at Sweden, exposed his flank to Russia for a 'istaucc of four hundred leagues, and he was unable to protect t. or to receive either re-enforcements or assistance." • Voltaire allesls, from personal inspection of the letters of several pub li: ministeis to theii i ^spective courts, that such was tlie gcnemi expccta tion. t Crightop.'s " Scandinavia." BAT'TLl: OF FULTOWA. he Czar sud- denly attacked him near the Borysthenes with an overwhelming force of 50,000 Russians. Lewenhaupt fought bravely for three days, and succeeded in cutting his way through the enemy with a})out 4000 of his men to where Charles awaited him near the River Desna ; but upward of 8000 Swedes fell in these bat- tles ; 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 piiemy'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 fortified town of Pultowa, on the River Vorskla ; a place where the Czar had stored up large supplies of provisions and military stores, and which commanded the passes leading toward Moscow. The possession of this place would have given Charles the means of supplying all the wants of his suflering army, and would also have furnished him M'ith a secure base of operations for his advance against the Muscovite capital. The siege was therefore hotly pressed by the Swedes ; the garrison resisted obstinately • and the Czar, foiling the ini tot BAtTLE OF PULTOWa. portanca ol saving the town, advanced in June to its reliel, a tue nead of an army from fifty to sixty thousand strong. Both sovereigns novs^ prepared for the general action, which each saw to be inevitable, and which each felt would be dec:;siva of his own and oi his country's destiny. The Czar, by some inas- terly maiieuvers, crossed the Vor.skla, and posted his army on the sams side of that river with the besiegers, but a little higher up. The Vorskla falls into the Borysthenes about fifteen leagues be- low Pultowa, and the Czar arranged his forces in two lines, stretch- ing from one river toward the other, so that if the Swedes at- tacked him and were repulsed, they would be driven backward into the acute angle formed by the two streams at their junction. He fortified these lines with several redoubts, lined with heavy artillery ; and his troops, both horse and foot, were in the best pos- sible condition, and amply provided with stores and amm\mition. Charles's forces were about 24,000 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 SAvedish king and Lewenhaupt had led to the Ukraine. The other 12,000 men, under Charles, were Cossacks and Wallachians, who had joined him in the country. On h ^aring 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 nobly than on that dreadful day. Nor do their Cossack and Wallachian allies seem to have been unworthy of fighting side by side with Charles's veterans. Two of the Rus- sian redoubts were actually entered, and the Swedish infantry be- pan to raise the cry of victory. But, on the other side, neither fieneral nor soldiers flinched in their duty. The Russian cannon- ade and musketry were kept up ; fresh masses of defenders were poured into the I'ortilications, and at length the exhausted rem- nants of the Swedish columns recoiled from the olood-stained re* iloubts. Then the C/.ar led the infantry and cavalry of his first line outside the works, drew them up steadily and skillfuJy, aiic tIATTLE OF PULTOWA. yO' the actioi'. was renewed along the whole fronts of the two annies on the opan gronnd. Each sovereign exjoosed his life freely in the world-winning battle, and on each side tha troops fought oh- Btinately and eagerly under their ruler's eye. It was not till two hours fror: the coinniencement of the action that, overpowered by nunibeis, the hitherto invincible Swedes gave way. All was then hopeless disorder and irreparable rout. Driven downward to where the livers join, the fugitive Swedes surrendered to their vidorious pursuers, or perished in the waters of the Boiyslhenes, Only a few hundreds swam that river with their king and the Cossack Mazeppa, and escaped into the Turkish territory. Nearly 10,000 lay killed and wounded in the redoubts and on the field oi battle. In the joy of his heart the Czar exclaimed, when the strile 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 Russian empc ror's first thoughts were of conquests and aggrandizement on th(< Baltic. The peace of Nystadt, which transferred the fairest prov inces of Sweden to Russia, ratified the judgment of battle which was pronounced at Pultowa. Attacks on Turkey and Persia by Russia commenced almost directly after that victory. And though the Czar failed in his first attempts against the sultan, the suc- cessors of Peter have, one and all, carried on a uniformly aggress- ive and uniformly successive system of policy against Turkey, and against every other slate, Asiatic as well as European, which has had the misfortune of having Russia for a neighbor. Orators and authors, who have discussed the progress of Icus- sia. have often alluded to the similitude between the modern ex- tension 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 Rus- sia and conquering 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 runic war, and during which her largest acquisitions of territory wero made, should be minutely compared with the history of Russia for the last one hundred and fifty years. The main points of wmilitude can only be indicated in these pages ; but they de« serve the fullest consideration. Above all, the sixth chapter of ^{)'4 BATTLE OF PULTOVA. !VlLntesquieu'& great treatise on Rome, "i>e la coiiduite qu ♦' Within less than lour years the annexation of T(>xas to tne Union has heen consummated ; all conflicting title to llie Oregon Territory, south of the 49th degree of north latitude, adjusted; and New Mexico and Upper California have been acquired by treaty. The area of these several territories contains 1,193,061 square miles, or 763,559,040 acres ; vi^hile the area of the re- maining twenty-nine states, and the territory not yet orgaruz- i irito states east of the Rocky 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 juris diction and dominion have been extended, constitute a country more than half as large as all that which was held by the United States before their acquisition. If Oregon be excluded from the estimate, there will still remain -within the limits of Texas, New Mexico, and California, 851,598 square miles, or 545,012,720 acres, being an addition equal to more than one third of all the territory owned by the United States before their acquisition, and, including Oregon, nearly as great an extent of territory as the whole of Europe, Russia only excepted. The Mississippi, so lately the frontier of our country, is now only its centre. With the addition of the late acquisitions, the United States are now estimated to be nearly as large as the whole of Europe. The ex- tent 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, including the Straits of Fuca, of 650 miles ; making the u-hole extent of sea-coast on the Pacific 1620 miles, and the whole extent on both the Pacific and the Gulf of Mexico, 2020 miles. The length of the coast on the At- lantic, 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 3100 miles, so that the addition of sea-coast, including Oregon, is very nearly two thirds as great as n\\ we possessed before ; and, e.xclading Oregon, is an addition oi t..UO miles, being nearly equal to one half of the extent of coast which we possessed before these acquisitions. We have now three gnat maritime iVoiits — on tlie Atlantic, the Gulf of Mexico, and tho Pacific, making, in the whole, an extent of sea-coast exceeding 5000 miles. This is ihc extent of the sea-coast of tlie United States, not including bays, sounds, and small irregularities ol* the main shore and of the sea islands. If these be included, thf ATSARATOOA.. 311 length ot" the sK ore-line of coast, as estimated hy tht superintend ent of" the Coast Survey in his report, woukl be 33,(JG3 miles." The imjwrtauce of the power of tlie 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 coact of that ocean, lie the wealthy but decrepit empires of China and Japan. Numerous groups of isleis stud the larger part of the in* torvening sea, and form convenient stepping-stones for the prog iiS8s 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 attempt of the Chi- nese or Japanese rulers to check it will only accelerate an armed collision. The American Avill 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 results of such a quarrel can not 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 Avhich many now living are likely to witness. Com- pared with the magnitude of such changes in the dominion of the Old World, the certain ascendency of the Anglo- Americana over Central and Southern America seems a matter of secondary importance. Well may we repeat De Tocqueville's words, ihaJ the growing power of this commonwealth is " un fait entiere ment nouveau dans le monde, et dont I'imagination elle-meme ne tsaurait saisir la portee." An Englishman may look, and ought to look, on the growing grandeur of the Americans with no small degree of generous sym- patliy and satisfaction. They, like ourselves, 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 jeminisoences of the days when, though brethren^ we strove together, may rankle in the minds of us, tho defeatol party, we should cherish the bonds o*' common nation- ality that still exist between us. We shoul 1 remember, as the ♦ Arnold. Sl'-i VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS Athenians remembered of the Spartans at a season (f jealousy and temptation, that our race is one, beinof of the same blood, epeakinn^ the same language, having an essential resemblai ce in our institutions and usages, and worshiping in the temples of tlie same God.* All this may and should be borne in mind. And y.jt an Englishman can hardly watch the progress of America v.ithout the regretful thought that America once was English, »rid that, but for the folly of our rulers, she might be English ftill. 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 re- mained integral portions of the same great empire. By givmg a fair and just participation in political rights, these, " the fairest possessions" of the British crown, might have been preserved to it. " This ancient and most noble monarchy"t 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 mari- time ascendency. The war which rent away the North American colonies from England is, of all subjects in history, the most painful for an Englishman 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 can not be evaded by the historian, however nmch it may be abhorred. Nor can any military event be said to have exercised moi'e im- portant influence on the future fortunes of mankind than the complete defeat of Burgoyne's expedition in 1777 ; a defeat which rescued the revolted colonists from certain subjection, and which, by inducing the courts of France and Spain to attack En- gland in their behalf, insured the independence of the United States, and the formation of that transatlantic power which not tnly 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 suflicient ; nor shall I linger unnecessarily on a pain- ful theme. The five northern colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut * Em' ofinifiov re kol 6/iny7i,uc(jnv, Koi QeQv ISpvaaru t( koiv^ /cat ■dvahv, ^Hri'i T0 npoTpnna — Hkuodotiis, viii., 144. ^ Lord Chathan.. KT SARATOGA 313 Rhode Ifilaiid, New Hampshire, and Vermont, usually classed tojrelher as the New Enghuid colonies, were the strongholds of the insurreciiou against the mother couutrJ^ The feeling ol re- sistance was less vehement and general in the central settlement ol" New York, and still less so in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and tlie otiier colonies of the South, although every where it was formidably strong. But it was among the descendants of the sleru Puritans that the spirit of Cromwell and Vane breathed in all iti 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 HTS^hey had succeeded in forcing the British troops to evacuate Boston; and the events of 1776 had made New York (which the Royalists captured in that year) the prin- cipal basis of operations for the armies of the mother country. A. glance at the map will show that the Hudson River, which 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 Atlan- tic, along which the New England States are situate. North- ward of the Hudson we see a small cham of lakes communicat- iu^r with the Canadian frontier. It is necessary to attend closely to these geographical points, m order to understand the plan of the operations 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 ministiy resolved to avail themselves, in the next year, of the advantage which the occu- pation of Canada gave them, not merely for the purpose of de- fense, but for the purpose of striking a vigorous and crushing blow asfainst 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 artiller}'^ abundamily supplied, and led by select and experienced officers. Large quan tities of military stores wei'e also furnished for the equipment of the Cana'lian volunteers, who were expected to join the expedi- tion It -(-vas intended that the force thus collected should march southward by the line of the lakes, and thence along the bar.ki O 314 VICTORY OF THE AMERICANH of tne Hudson Eiver. The British army from Ncav York (or a 'argc detaf^hmeut of il) was to make a simultaneous movement Morthward, up the line ol' the Hudson, and the two expeditions were to unite at Albany, a town on that river. By these opera- tions, all communication betAveen the northern colonies and thot o of the centre and south would be cut off. An irresistible force would be concentrated, so as to crush all further opposition in New England ; and when this was done, it was believed that the other colonies would speedily submit. The Americans had ho troops in the field that seemed able to baffle these movements. Their principal army, under Washington, was occupied in watch" ing over Pennsylvania and the South. At any rate, it was be- lieved that, in order to oppose the plan intended for the new campaign, the insurgents must risk a pitched battle, in whicli the superiority of the Royalists, 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 suc- cess of the execution been equal to the ingenuity of the design, the reconquest or submission of the thirteen United States nmst in all human probability have followed, 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 gen- erally regarded with jealousy and ill will, and was thought to have acquired, at the treaty of Paris, a preponderance of dom « ion which was perilous to the balance of power ; but, thou^^h many were willing 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 consider- able skill as a tactitian ; and his general intellectual abilities and acquirements were of a high order. He had several very able and experienced officerB under him, among whom were Major Gen- eral Philips and Brigadier General Frazer. His regular troops amounted, exclusively of tho corps of artillery, to about 7200 men, rank and file. Nearly half of these were (jermans. He had also an auxiliary force of from two to three thousand Canadians. He Bimimoned the M'arriors of several tribes of the red Indian* ATSARATCGA. 31fi near the Western lakes to join his army. Much eloquence was poured forth both in America and in England in denouncing the use of" these savage auxiliaries. Yet Burgoyne seems to have done no more than Montcalm, Wolfe, and other French, Amer- ican, and English generals had done before him. But, in truth, the lawless fL-rocily of the Indians, their uuskillfulness in regulai action, and the utter impossibility of bringing them under any jliscipline, made their services of little or no value in times of ditiiculty ; while the indignation which their outrages inspired went far to rouse the whole population of the invaded districts into active hostilities against Burgoyne's torce. Burgoyne assembled his troops and confederates near the Rivei Bouquet, 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 tne necessity of abstaining from their usual cruel prac- tices against unarmed people and prisoners. 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 Crowr^ Point, a fortification which the Americans held at the northerr extremity of the inlet, by which the water from Lake George in conveyed to Lake Champlain. He landed here without opposi- tion ; but the reduction of Ticonderoga, a fortification about twelve miles to the south of Crown Point, was a more serious matter, and was supposed to be the critical part of the expedition. Ti- conderoga commanded the passage along the lakes, and was con- sidered to be the key to the route which Burgoyne wished to fol low. 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 about 3000 men, evacuated it on the 5th of July. It seems evident that a dif- ferent course would have caused the destruction or capture of his whole army, which, weak as it was, was the chief force then in the field for the protection of the New England States. When censured by some of his coimtrymen for abandoning Ticonderoga St. Clair truly replied " that he had lost a post, but saved a prov- ince." Burgc file's troops pursued the retiring Americans, gained several adv antages over *hem, and took a large part of their ar tiilory and military stores 3]t» VICTOUy OF THE AMERICANS The loss of the Britisli in tiiese engagements was trifling. Th« army moved southward along Lake George to Skenesborough, and thence, slowly and with great difficulty, across a broken coun- try, full of creeks and marshes, and clogged by the enemy with elled trees and other obstacles, to Fort Edward, on the Hudson River, the American troops contiuuiug 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 and 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 they were once on the bank of the river which was to be the channel of communi cation between them and the British army in the South. But their feehngs, and those of the English nation in general when their successes were aimounced, may best be learned from a con- temporary writer. Burke, in the "Annual Register" for 177.7, describes them thus : " Such M'as the rapid ton-ent of success, M'hich swept every thing away before the Northern army in its onset. It is not to be wondered at if both officers and private men were highly elat- ed with their good fortune, and deemed that and their prowess to be irresistible ; if they regarded their enemy with the greatest contempt ; considered their own toils to be nearly at an end ; Albany to be already in their hands ; and the reduction of the northern provinces to be rather a matter of some time than an arduous task full of difficulty and danger. " At home, the joy and exultation was extreme ; not only at 3ourt, but with all those who hoped or wdshed the unqualified subjugation and unconditional submission of the colonies. The loss in reputation 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 wliich had been made by their enemies, of their wanting the resolution and abilities of men, even in their defense of what ever was dear to them, were now repeated and believed. Those who still regarded them as men, and who had not yet lost all afl'ectAon to them as brethren ; who also retained hopes that a happy recon'Mliation upon constitutional principles, without sacri- ficing the dignity of the just authority of government on the one eide, or a dereliition of the rights of freemen on the other, wai AT SARATOGA. Jit not even now impossible, nolwithslanding' theii favorn'ole dispo- sitions in general, could not help feeling upon this occasion that the Americans sunk not a little in their estimation. It was not diilicult to ([idlise an opinion that the war in effect was over, and that any farther resistance could serve only to render the terms of their submission the worse. Huch were some of the immedi- ate cfl'ects of the loss of those grand keys of North America- - Ti "Jonderoga, and the lakes." The astonishment and alarm which these events produced among the Americans were naturally great ; but in the midst of their disasters, none of the colonists showed any disposition to submit. The local governments of the New England States, ai well as the Congress, acted with vigor and firmness in their ef- forts to repel the enemy. General Gates was sent to take the command of the army at Saratoga ; and Arnold, a favorite lead- er of the Americans, was dispatched by Washington to act undei him, with re-enforcements of troops and guns from the main Amer- ican 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 humanity and to the laws of civilized war fare. The American commanders 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 efi'ect ; 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 cannibal savage torturing, murder- ing, roasting, and eating the mangled 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 tlw mdiacriminate ry.ge of the savages ;t and thus " the inhabitauti* of the open and frontier countries had no choice of acting : th» v had no means of security left but by abandoning their habiia- * Lord Chatliam's speech on the employment of Indians in the war. t See, in the "Annual Register" for 1777, p. 117, the "Narrative of thi Morder of Miss M'Crea, the daughter of ar American Loyalist " 318 VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS tions and taking up arms. Every man saw the necessity of lie^ coming a temporary soldier, not only for his own security, but for tlie protection and defense of those connections which are dearar than life itself. Thus an army was poured forth by the woods, mountains, and marshes, which in this part were thickly sown with plpintations and villages. The Americans recalled their courage, and, when their regular army seemed to be en- tirely w'asted, the spirit of the country produced a much greater and more formidable force."* While resolute recruits-, accustomed to the us'3 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 while Burgoyne was engaged at Fort Edward in providing the means for the farther advance of his army through the intri- cate and hostile country that still lay before him, two events oc- curred, in each of which the British sustained loss and the Amer- icans obtained advantage, the moral efl'ects of which were even more important 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 Bome 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 Hud- son, between Saratoga 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 quan- tities of stores to the garrison . At the very time that General Burgoyne heard of this disaster, he experienced one still more se- vere 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 magazines of provisions, of which the British army stood greatly in need. The Americans, augmented by continual accessions of strength, succeeded, 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 in- fantry, 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 Brit_j^ loss in these • Burke. ATSARATUGA 319 iwo ai;lions exceeded six hundred men ; and a party of American Loyalists, on their way to join the army, having attached them- Belves to Colonel Baum's corps, were destroyed with it. Notwithstanding these reverses, which added greatly to the epirit and numbers of the American forces, Burgoyne detemiined to advance. It was impossible any longer to keep up his com- munications 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 eixteen miles from Albany. The Americans had fallen back from Saratoga, and were now strongly posted near Stillwater, about half way between Sarato- ga and Albany, 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 jjelaw are, and there commenced, a campaign against Washington, in which the Knglish general took Philadelphia, and gained other showy but unprofitable successes. But Sir Heni-y Clinton, a brave aiid skill- ful officer, was left with a considerable force at New York, and he undertook the task of moving up the Hudson to co-operate with Burgoyne. Clinton was obliged for this purpose to wait for re-enforcements which had been promised from England, and these did not arrive till September. As soon as he received them, Clinton embarked about 3000 of his men on a flotilla, con- voyed by some ships of war under Commander Hotham, and pro- ceeded to force his way up the river. The country between Burgoyne'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 bridg- es 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 En- glish right wing, under Burgoyne himself, and a strong body oi 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 spirits of the Americans were greatly ra .sed by naviug withstood the best regular troops of the English army 320 VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS Burgijynt now halted again, and strengfhened his itosition by field-works and redouhts ; and the Americans also improved their defenses. The two armies remained nearly within canuon- shot of each other for a considerable time, during which Bur- goyne vi'as anxiously looking for intelligence of the promised ex- pedition 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, M'ith gicat difficulty, to Burgoyne's camp, and brought the informa- tion tliat Clinton was on his way up the Hudson to attack the American forts which barred the passage up that river to Alba- uy. Burgoyne, in reply, stated his hopes that the promised co- operation would be speedy and decisive, and added, that unless he received assistance before the 10th of October, he would be obliged to retreM to the lakes through want of provisions. The Indians and Canadians now began to desert Burgoyne, while, on the other hand, Gates's army was continually re-en- forced by fresh bodies of the militia. An expeditionary force wau detached by the Americans, which made a bold, though unsuc- cessful attempt to retake Ticonderoga. And finding the number and spirit of the enemy to increase daily, and his own stores of provisions to diminish, Burgoyne determined on attacking the Americans in front of him, and, by dislodging them from their po- sition, to gain the means of moving upon 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 6000 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 ground to the bank of the Hudson, their line being nearly at a right angle with the course of the stream. The lines were fortified in the centre and on the left with redoubts and field- works. The numerical force of the Americans was now greatei than the British, even in regular troops, and the numbers of the militia and volunteers which had joined 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 too strong to be assailed with any prosper't of success, and Burgoyne therefore determ.ned to endeavor to force their left. For this purpose he formed a column of 1500 regular troops, with two twelve-poundors, tw« AT SARATOaA. d21 howitzers, and six six-pounders. He headed tl is in person, haw iua Generals Philips, Keidosel, and Frazer under him. Tin; en- emy's force immediately in front of his lines was so strong th it 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 I aft pan of it was committed to the charge of Brigadier GoU. Il was on the 7th of October that Burgoyne led his column on U) the attack ; and on the preceding day, the 6th, Clinton had successfully executed a brilliant enterprise against the two Amer- ican forts which barred his progress up the Hudson. He had captured them both, with severe loss to the American forces op- posed to him ; he had destroyed the fleet which the Americans had been forming on the Hudson, under the protection of their foils ; and the upward river was laid open to his squadron. H«! was now only a hundred and fifty-six miles distant from Bur- goyne, and a detachment 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 soon 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, i777, advanced against the American position. There were brave men, both English and German, in its ranks ; and, in par- ticular, it comprised one of the best bodies of Grenadiers in the British serA'ice. 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 centre, and the English Light Infantry and the 24th regiment on the right. But Gates did not wait to be attacked ; and directly the British Hne was formed and began to advance, the American gen- eral, with admirable skill, caused a strong force to make a sudden and vehement rush against its left. The Grenadiers under Ack- land sustained the charge of superior numbers nobly. But Gatea O 2 322 VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS Bent more Americans forward, and in a few minutes the acti(»n became general along the centre, 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 au- vancing from their extreme left, with the evident intention of turning the British right, and cutting off its retreat. Tho Light Infantry and the 24th now fell back, and formed an oblique sec- ond hue. v.hich 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 flanks of the English double line. Burgoyne's whole force was soon compelled to re- treat toward their camp ; the left and centre were in complete disorder ; but the Light Lifantry and the 24th 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 propor- tion 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. Ar- nold especially, who on this day appeared maddened with the thirst of combat and carnage, urged on the attack against a part of the intrenchments 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 sanguin- ary. At length, as it grew toward evening, Arnold, having forced all obstacles, entered the works with some of the most fearless of his followers. But in this critical moment of glory and dan- ger, he received a painful wound in the same leg which had al- ready been injured at the assault on Cluebec. To his bitter le- ^' et, he was obliged to be carried back. His party still contin- ued tlie attack ; bu' the English also continued their obstinate reeistance and at last niglit fell, and tne assailants withdrew " Botta's " American War," book viii AT SARATOGA liP.Z from this quarter of llie British iiitreiichnieats But in another part the u.ttack had been more successful. A body of the Amer- icans, under Colonel Brooke, forced their way in through a part of the uitreuchments on the extreme right, which was defend- ed by the German reserve under Colonel Breyman. The Ger- 'aans resisted well, and Breyman died in defense of his post ; out the Americans made good the ground which they had won, and captured baggage, tents, artillery, and a store of ammunition; which they were greatly in need of. n They had, by establisliing themselves on this point, acquired the xneans of completely turn- ing the right Hank of the British, and gaining their laar. To prevent this calamity, Burgoyne efl'ected 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. AVhen night fell, it became absolutely necessary ibr Burgoyne to retire again, and, according- ly, the troops were marched through a stormy and rainy night toward Saratoga, abandoning 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 fu- neral of this gallant soldier is thus described by the Italian his- iorian 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 mournlul and solemn of itself, Avas render- ed even terrible by the sense of i-ecent losses, of present and fu- ture dangers, and of regret for the deceased. Meanwliile tho Lla7,e and roar of the American artillery amid the natural dark- ness and stillness of the night came on the senses with startling awe. The grave had been dug within range of the enemy's bat 324 VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS teries : and while the service was proceeding, a cannon UaL' struck the grouui close to the coffin, and spattered earth ovei the face of the officiating chaplain."* Burgoyne now took up his last position on the heights neai Saratoga ; and hemmed in by the enemy, who refused any en- counter, and baffled in all his attempts at finding a path of es- cape, he there lingered until famine compelled him to capitulate. The fortitude of the British anny durmg this melancholy period has been justly eulogized by many native historians, hut I prefer quoting the testimony of a foreign writer, as free from all possi- bility of partiality. Botta says :+ " It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable condi- tion to which the British army was now reduced. The troops were worn down by a series of toil, privation, sickness, and des- perate fighting. Thsy were abandoned by the Indians and Ca- nadians, and the effective force of the whole army was now di- minished by repeated and heavy losses, which had principally fallen on the best soldiers and the most distinguished officers, from 10,000 combatants to less than one half that number. Of this remnant little more than 3000 were English. " In these circumstances, and thus weakened, they were la- vested by an army of four times their own number, whose posi tion extended 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 help- less condition, obhged to be constantly under arms, while the ene- my's cannon played on every part of their camp, and even the American rifle balls whistled in many parts of the lines, the ti'oops of Burgoyne retained their customary firmness, and, while sinking under a hard necessity, they showed themselves worthy of a better fate. They 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 unanimous advice of a council of war, sent & 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 groimd their arms. Burgoyne replied, " Thii * Botta, book viii. t Book viii. AT SARilTOGA. article is nadmissible ia every extremity ; sooner than tliih army will com silt to ground their arms in iheir sncamprnent, they will rush on the enemy, determined to take no quarter." After various messages, a convention for tlie 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 mtrenchments. to the verge of the river wh^re the arms and artillery were to be left. The arms to be |»iled by word of coi.'.niand from their own officers. A free pas- iage 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 present contest." The Articles of Capitulation were settled on the 15th of Octr. ber ; and on that very evening a messenger arrived from Clinton with an account of his successes, and with the tidings that pai I of his force had penetrated as far as Esopus, within fifty miles of Burgoyne's camp. But it was too late. The public faith was pledged ; and the army was indeed too debilitated by fatigue ami hunger to resist an attack, if made ; and Gates certainly would have made it, if the Convention had been broken ofi'. Accord- ingly, on the 17th, the Convention of Saratoga was carried into efl'ect. By this Convention 5790 men surrendered themselves as prisoners. The sick and wounded left in the camp when the British retreated to Saratoga, together with the numbers of the British, German, and Canadian troops who w^ere killed, wounded, or taken, and who had deserted in the preceding part of the ex- pedition, were reckoned to be 4689. The British sick and wounded who had fallen into the hands of the Americans after the battle of the seventh were treated with exemplary humanity ; and when the Convention was ex- ecuted. General 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 Araer- ifian troops remaiuf"! within their lines until the British had piled their arms ; and when this w^as done, the vanquished offi- cers and soldiers were received with friendly kindness by tlieii victors, and their immediate wants were promptly and liberally eupplied. Discussions and disputes afterward arose as to some of the terms of the Convention, and the American Congress re- fused for a long time to carry into f fleet the article which pr»< i26 \i(;Tor>v of the Americans, etc. vided for the return of Burgoyne's men to Europe ; but no blame Was imputable to General Gates or his army, who showed them- Eclves to be generous as they had proved themselves to be brave Gates, after the victory, immediately dispatched Coloixel Wil- kinson to can-}' the happy tidings to Congress. On being mtro duced into the hall, he said, " The whole British army has laid dowai 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 for their service." Honors and rs •ft'ards were liberally voted by the Congress to their conquering general and his men ; and it would be difficult (says the Itahan historian) to describe the transports of joy which the news of this event excited among the Americans. They began to flattei themselves with a still more happy future. No one any longer felt any doubt about their achieving their independence. All hoped, and wdth good reason, that a success of this importance w^ould at length determine France, and the other European pow- ers that waited for her example, to declare themselves in favor of America. " There could no longer he any question respect- ing the future., since there teas jw longer the risk of espousing the cause of a 2Jeop)le 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 American commissioners at Paris, in their disgust and despair, had almost broken off all negotiations with the French government ; and they even endeavored to open communications with the British ministry. But the British government, elated with the first successes of Burgoyne, refused to listen to any Dvertures for accommodation. But when the news of Saratoga reached Paris, the whole scene was changed. Franklin and his brother commissioners found all their difficulties with the French government vanish The time seemed to have arrived for the house of Bourbon to take a full revenge for all it« humiuatiorui * Botta, book ix. SY^'OP^^I.< UK INVENTS, ETC. 327 and lijsses in previous wars. Iir December a treaty waB ar- ranged, and formally signed in the February following, by which France acknowledged tJte Independent United States of Amer ira This was, of course, tantamount to a declaration of wai with England. Spain soon followed France ; and, before long. Holland took the same course. Largely aided by French fleets and troops, the Americans vigorously maintained the war against the armies which England, in spite of her European foes, con- tinued to send across the Atlantic. But the struggle was too unequal to be maintained by this country for many years ; and when the treaties of 1783 restored peace to the world, the inde- pendence of the United States was reluctantly recognized by their ancient parent and recent enemy, England. Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, A.D. 1777, and the Battle of Valmy, A.D. 1792. 1781. Surrender of Lord Cornwallis and the British army to Washington. 1782. Rodney's victory over the Spanish fleet. Unsuccessful siege of Gibraltar by the Spaniards and French. 1783. End of the American war. 1788. The Sta.tes-G eniral are convened in France ; b^D' Qinf of the Revolution S?8 BATTLE OF VALMY CHAPTER XIV, THE BATTLE OF VALMY, i> .D. 1792. Purpurei metuunt tyranni Injurinso ne pede proruas Stantem columnam : neu populus frequens Ad arma cessantes ad arma Concitet, imperiumque frangat. HoRAT., Od. i., 36. A. little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffered, rivers can not quench. Shakspeake. A FEW miles distant from the little town of St. Menehc- i, m the northeast of France, are the village and hill of Valmy and near the crest of that hill a simple monument points out th< bur- ial-place of the heart of a general of the French republic v nd a ma.shal of the French empire. The elder Kellerman (father of the distinguished officer of Uiat name, whose cavalry charge decided the battle of Marengo) held high commands in the French armies throughout the wars of the Convention, the Directory, the Consulate, and the Em- pire. He survived those wars, and the empire itself, dyi/ig in extreme old age in 1820. The last wish of the veteran on his death-bed was that his heart should be deposited in the battle- field of Valmy, there to repose among the remains of his ol-< com- panions in arms, who had fallen at his side on that spot tr^enty- eight years before, on the memorable day when they won the primal victory of Revolutionary France, and prevented the arm- ies of Brunswick and the emigrant bands of Cmidc from march- ing on defenseless Paris, and desti'oying the immature democracy ill its cradle. The Duke of Vahny (lor Kellerman, when made one of Napo Icon's militaiy peers in 1802, took his title from this same bat- tle-field) had pailioi])ated, during his long and active career, in the gaining of many a victor (.'-'■ mere immediately dazzling than BATTLE OF VALMY. b<>3 the one, the ren.timhrance of which he thus cherished. He had been present at many a scene of carnage, where blood flowed in deluges, coruparcd with which the libations of slaughter poured out at Valmy would have seemed scant and insignificant. But he rightly estimated the paramount importance of the battle with which he thus wishei his appellation while living, and his mem- ory after his death, to be identified. The successful resislaiirc which the raw Carmagnole levies and the disorganized relics of the ol(? monarchy's army then opposed to the combined hosts and shosen loaders of Prussia, Austria, and the French refugee no- blesse, determined at once and forever the belligerent character of the revolution. The raw artisans and tradesmen, the clumsy burghers, the base mechanics, and low peasant-churls, as it had been the fashion to term the middle and lower classes in France, found that they could face cannon balls, pull triggers, and cross bayonets without having been drilled into military machines, and without being officered by scions of noble houses. They awoke to the consciousness of their own instinctive soldiership. They at once acquired confidence in themselves and in each other ; and " that confidence soon grew into a spirit of unbounded audacity and ambition. " From the cannonade of Valmy may be dated tht commencement of that career of victory which carried their arm- ies to Vienna and the Kremlin."* One of the gravest reflections that arises from the contempla- tion of the civil restlessness and military enthusiasm which the close of the last century saw nationalized in France, is the con- sideration that these disturbing influences have become perpetual. No settled system of government, that shall endure from gener- ation to generation, that shall be proof against corruption and popular violence, seems capable of taking root among the French. And every revolutionary movement in Paris thrills throughout the rest of the world. Even the successes which the powers al- 'ied against France gained in 181-4 and 1815, important as they werd could not annul the efiects of the preceding twenty-three years of general convulsion and war. In 1830, the dynasty which foreign bayonets had imposed o\. France was shaken ofi, and men trembled at the expected out break of French anarchy and the dreaded inroads of French am bition. They " looked forward with Uarassing anxiety to a po » Alison. 330 BATTLE OF VALMY. Hod of destruction similar to that which the Roman world expe- rienced about the middle of the third century of our era."* Louis Philippe cajoled Revolution, and then strove with seeminjj suc- cess to stifle it. But, in spite of Fieschi laws, in spite of the dazzle of Algerian razzias and Pyrenee-efl'acing marriages, in spite of hundreds of armed forts, and hundreds of thousands of coercing troops, E evolution lived, and struggled to get free. The old Titan spirit heaved restlessly beneath " the monarchy based on repub lican institutions." At last, three years ago, the M'hole fabric of kingcraft was at once rent and scattered to the winds by tho uprising of the Parisian democracy ; and insurrections, barricades and dethronements, the downfalls of coronets and crowns, the armed collisions of parties, systems, and populations, became the commonplaces of recent European history. France now calls herself a republic. She first assumed that title on the 20th of September, 1792, on the very day on which the battle of Valmy was fought and won. To that battle the democratic spirit which in 1848, as well as in 1792, proclaimed the Republic in Paris, owed its preservation, and it is thence that the imperishable activity of its principles may be dated. Far different seemed the prospects of democracy in Europe on the eve of that battle, and far different would have been the pres- ent position and influence of the French nation, if Brunswick's columns had charged with more boldness, or the lines of Dumou riez resisted with less firmness. When France, in 1792, declared war with the great powers of Europe, she was far from possess- ing that splendid military organization which the experience of a few revolutionary campaigns taught her to assume, and which she has never abandoned. The army of the old monarchy had, during the latter part of the reign of Louis XV., sunk into grad- ual decay, both in numerical force, and in efficiency of equip meut and spirit. The laurels gained by the auxiliary regiments which Louis XVL sent to the American war, did but little to re- store whose muster-rolls showed a numerical overwhelming su- periority to the enemy, and seemed to promise a speedy conquest of that old battle-field of Europe. But the first flash of an A us • Lainnrtine. t Garlyle. BATTLE OF VALMV- 33J til An sabre, or the first sound of an Austrian gun, was enough t/- (lisconifit the French. Their first corps, four thousand strong, tnat advanced from Lille across the Irontier, came suddenly upon a far inferior detachment of the Austrian gari'ison of Tournay. INot a shot was fired, nor a bayonet leveled. With one simulta- iKious cry of panic, the French broke and ran headlong back to Lille, where they completed the specimen of insubordination which they had given in the field by murdering their general and several of their chief officers. On the same day, another division under Biron, mustering ten thousand sabres and bayo- nets, saw a few Austrian skirmishers reconnoitering their posi- tion. The French advanced posts had scarcely given and re- ceived a volley, and only a few balls from the enemy's field- pieces had fallen among the lines, when two regiments of French dragoons raised the cry " We are betrayed," galloped ofi, and were followed in disgraceful rout by the rest of the whole army. Similar panics, or repulses almost equally discreditable, occurred whenever Rochambeau, or Luckner, or La Fayette, the earliest French generals in the war, brought their troops into the pres ence of the enemy. Meanwhile the allied sovereigns had gradually collected on the Rhine a veteran and finely-disciplined army for the invasion of France, which for numbers, equipment, and martial reiiowii, both of generals and men, was equal to any that Germany had ever sent forth to conquer. Their design was to strike boldly and decisively at the heart of France, and, penetrating the coun- try through the Ardennes, to proceed by Chalons upon Paris. The obstacles that lay in their way seemed insignificant. The disorder and imbecility of the French armies had been even aug- mented by the forced flight of La Fayette and a sudden change of generals. The only troops posted on or near the track by which the allies were about to advance were the 23,000 men at Sedm, A\hom La Fayette had commanded, and a corps of 20,000 near Metz, the command of which had just been transferred fr&tn Luckner to Kellerman. There were only three fortresses which it was necessary for the allies to capture or mask — Sedan, Longwy, and Verdun. The defenses and stores of all these three were known to be wretchedly dismantled and insufficient ; and when once these feeble barriers were overcome and Chalona reached, a fertile and unprotected country seemed to invite the 334 BATTLE OF VALMT. invaders to that " military promenade to Paris" ^'hich they ga-y ly talked of accomplishino;. At the end of July, the alhed army, having fully completea all preparations for the campaign, broke up from its canton- ments, and, marching from Luxembourg upon Longwy, crossed the French frontier. Sixty thousand Prussians, trained in the schools, and many of them under the Sye of the Great Frederic, heirs of the glories of the Seven Years' War, and universally esteemed the best troops in Europe, marched in one column against the central point of attack. Forty-five thousand Aus- trians, the greater part of w^hom were picked troops, and had served in the recent Turkish war, supplied two formidable corps that supported the flanks of the Prussians. There was also a powerful body of Hessians ; and leagued with the Germans against the Parisian democracy came 15,000 of the noblest and the bravest among the sons of France. In these corps of emi grants, many of the highest born of the French nobility, scions of houses Mdiose chivalric trophies had for centuries filled Eu rope with renown, served as rank and file. They looked on the road to Paris as the path which they were to carve out by their swords to victory, to honor, to the rescue of their king, to re union with their families, to the recovery of their patrimony, and to the restoration of their oi'der.* Over this imposing army the allied sovereigns placed as gen- eralissimo the Duke of Brunswick, one of the minor reigning princes of Germany, a statesman of no mean capacity, and who had acquired in the Seven Years' War a military reputation sec- ond only to that of the Great Frederic himself. He had been de- puted a few years before to quell the popular movements which then took place in Holland, and he had put down the attempted "evolution in that country with a promptitude which appeared to augur equal success to the army that now marcln^d under his or- ders on a similar mis.sion into Finance. Moving majestically forward, with leisurely deliberation, that seemed to show the consciousness of superior strength, and a steady purpose of doing their work thorouglily, the allies ap- peared before Longwy on the 20th of August, and the dispirited and despondent garrison opened the gates of that fortress to them ufter the first shower of bombs. On the 2d of September, th« • See Scoit, " Life of Napoleon," vol. i., c. xi. BATTLE OF VALMY. 33 S fllilJ more Important stronghold ofVerdun capitulated after scarce Ij the shadow of resistance. Briiuswiek's superior force was now interposed between Kel* lerman's troops on the left and the other French army near Se- dan, which La Fayette's flight had, for the time, left destitute of a commander. It was in the power of the German general, by striking with an overwhelming mass to the right and left, to orush in succession each of these weak armies, and the allies might then have marched irresistible and unresisted upon Paris. But at this crisis D umouriez, the new commander-in-chief of the French, arrived at the camp near Sedan, and commenced a se- ries of movements by which he reunited the dispersed and disor- ganized forces of his country, checked the Prussian columns a*, the very moment when the last obstacles to their triumph seen* ed to have given way, and finally rolled back the tide of inva sion far across the enemy's frontier. The French fortresses had fallen; but nature herself still of- fered to brave and vigorous defenders of the land the means of opposing a barrier to the progress of the allies. A ridge of bro ken ground, called the Argonne, extends from the vicinity of Se- dan toward the southwest for about fifteen or sixteen leagues. The country of L'Argonne has now been cleared and drained ; but in 1792 it was thickly wooded, and the lower portions of its unequal surface were filled with rivulets and marshes. It thus presented a natural barrier of from four or five leagues broad which was absolutely impenetrable to an army, except by a fevi defiles, such as an inferior force might easily fortify and defend Dumouriez succeeded in marching his army down from Sedan be hind the Argonne, and in occupying its passes, while the Prus sians still lingered on the northeastern side of the forest line Ordering Kellerman to wheel round from Metz to St. Menehould and the re-enforcements from the interior and extreme north also to concentrate at that spot, Dumouriez trusted to assemble a pow eiful force in the rear of the southwest extremity of the Argonne, whih-- with the twenty-five thousand men under his immediate command he held the enemy at bay before the passes, or forced him to a long circumvolution round one extremity of the forest ridge, during which, favorable oi)portunities of assailing his flank were almost certain to occur. Dumouriez fortified the principal Jefiles. and boasted of the Thermopyla; which he had found foi 336 BATTLE OF VALMV. the invaders; but the simile was nearly rendered falaliy jom plete for the defending force. A pass, wliich was thought of lu ferior importance, had been but slightly manned, and an A us tnan corps, under Clairfayt, forced it after some sharp fighting Dumouriez with great difficulty saved himself from being en V(;loped and destroyed by the hostile columns that now pushed through the forest. But instead of despairing at the failure 3f his plans, and falhng back into the interior, to bo completely sev- ered from Kellerman's army, to be hunted as a fugitive under the walls of Paris by the victorious Germans, and to lose all chance of ever rallying his dispirited troops, he resolved to cling to the difficult country in which the armies still were grouped, to force a junction with Kellerman, and so to place himself at the head of a force which the invaders would not dare to disregard, and by which he might drag them back from the advance on Paris, which he had not been able to bar. Accordingly, by a rapid movement to the south, during which, in his own words, " France was within a hair's-breadth of destruction," and after with diffi- culty checking several panics of his troops, in which they ran by thousands at the sight of a few Prussian hussars, Dumouriez sue ceeded in establishing his head-quarters in a strong position at St. Menehould, protected by the marshes and shallows of the rivera Aisne and Aube, beyond w'hich, to the northwest, rose a firm and elevated plateau, called Dampierre's camp, admirably situated for commanding the road by Chalons to Paris, and where he in- tended to post Kellerman's army so soon as it came up.* The news of the retreat of Dumouriez from the Argonne passes, and of the panic flight of some divisions of his troops, spreail rap- idly throughout the country, and Kellerman, who beheved that his comrade's army had been annihilated, and feared to fall among the victorious masses of tlic Prussians, had halted on his march from Melz when almost close to St. Menehould. He had actu ally commenced a retrograde movement, when couriers from his commander-in-chief checked him from that fatal course ; aiid then continuing to wheel round the rear and left flank of the troops at Bt. Menehould, Kellerman, with twenty thousand of the army ol * Some late writers represent that Brunswick did not wish to crush Dumouriez. There is no sufficient authority for this insuniation, which •eems to have heen first prompted by a desire lo soothe the wounJetf flnihtary pride of the Prussians. BATTLE C F V A J M Y. 337 Metz, and sonic thousands of volunteers, who had joined him in tlie march, made his appearance to the west of Dumouriez on the very evening when Westernian and Thouvenot, two of the stall- ollicers of Dumouriez, galloped in with the tidings that BrunS' wick's army liad come through tlie upper passes of the Argonne in fidl Ibrce, and was dc])loying on the heights of La Luue^ a chain of eminences that stretch obliquely from southwest 1o north- east, opposite the high ground which Dumouriez held, and al«c opposite, but at a shorter distance from the position which Kel- lerman was designed to occupy Tlie allies were now, in ILot, nearer to Paris than were the French troops themselves ; but, as Dumouriez had foreseen, Bruns- wick deemed it unsafe to march upon the capital with so large a hostile force left in his rear between his advancing columns and his base of operations. The young King of Prussia, who was in the allied camp, and the emigrant princes, eagerly advocated an instant attack upon the nearest French general. Kellerman had laid himself unnecessarily open, by advancing beyond Dampierre's camp, which Dumouriez had designed for him, and moving for- ward across the Aube to the plateau of Valmy, a post inferior hi strength and space to that which he had left, and which brought him close upon the Prussian lines, leaving him separated by a -dangerous interval from the troops under Dumouriez himself. It peerr.ed easy for the Prussian army to overwhelm him while thu.s isolated, and then they might surround and crush Dumouriez at their leisure. Accordingly, the right wing of the allied army moved forward in the gray of the morning of the 20th of September to gain Kel- lerman's left flank and rear, and cut him off from retreat upon Olialoiis, wliile the rest of the army, moving from the heights of \ai Lune, which here converge seinicircularly round the plateau of Valmy, were to assail his position in front, and interpose be- tween him and Dumouriez. An unexpected collision between some of the advanced cavalry on each side in the low ground warned Kellerman of the enemy's approach. Dumouriez had not hi'V.xi unob.servunt of the danger of his comrade, thus isolated aiiorno"8 " History of the Campaign of Wa lerloo." vol. i., j). 41. t Ibid., vol. i., chap. iii. BATTLE OF -WATERLOO. 'iL^ buth ill iiiteiest and in feelings."* His own army wi..s under lii» own sole command. It was composed exclusively ol' French sol- diers, mostly oi' veterans, well acquainted with their oilicers and with each other, and full of enthusiastic confidence in their cou:- niauder. 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, hut also against the other masses that were slowly laboring up against his southeastern frontiers. The triple chain of strong fortresses which the French pos sessed 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 intend- ed to take. On the other hand, Blucher and Wellington were ftbliged to canton their troops along a line of open country of con- siderable length, so as to watch for the outbreak of Napoleon from whichever point of his chain of strongholds he should please t.» 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 ol Wellington covered Brussels, his can- tonments being partly in front of that city, and between it and the French frontier, and partly on its west ; their extreme rignt being at Courtray and Tournay, while their left approached Char- leroi and communicated Avitli the Prussian 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 pursu- ing his favorite tactic of assailing each separately Avith a superior force on the battle-field, though the aggregate of their numbers considerably exceeded his own. On the 1 5th of June the French army was suddenly 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 occupy, thus lay right through the centre of the line of the cantonments of tlie illios. The Prussian general rapidly concentrated his forces, jailing them in from the left, and the English general ccncen Irated his, calling them in from the 'ight toward the menaced centre of the combined position. On the morning of the IGth, Blucher was in position at Ligny, to the northeast of Charleroi * See Montholon's " Memoirs," p. 45 350 r, ATTLE OF WATEULOO. with 60,01)0 men. Welliugto.i's troops were concentrating at Q^uatre 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 Ney, with a large pai-t of the French army, attacked the English troops at duatre Bras, and a very severe engagement took place, in which Ney failed in defeating the British, but succeeded in preventing their sending any help to Blucher, who was being beaten by the emperor at Ligny. On the news of Blucher's defeat at Ligny reacliing Wellington, he foresaw that the emperor's army would now be directed upon him, and he accordingly retreated in order to restore his commmiica- tions with his ally, which would have been dislocated by th" Prussians falling back from Ligny to Wavre if the English had remained in advance at duatre Bras. During the 17th, there fore, WelHngton retreated, being pursued, but little molested by the main French army, over about half the space between duatre Bras and Brussels. This brought him again parallel, on a l,m running from west to east, with Blucher, who was at Wavre. Having ascertained that the Prussian army, though beaten on tho 16th, was not broken, and having received a promise from its gen- eral 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-memora b'.e name of the field of Waterloo. Sir Walter Scott, in his " Life of Napoleon," remarks of Water- '.00 that " the scene 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 have made the events of the battle almost equally well known. I might perhaps, content myself with referring to their pages, and avoid tne difficult task of dealing with a subject which has already been discussed so copiously, so clearly, and so elo- quently by o'.hcrs. In particular, the description by Captain Si- borne of the Waterloo campaign is so full and so minute, so scru julously accurate, and, at the same lime, 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 o; tliift p;reat event, of this discrowning and crowning victory. BATIL li OK WATKKLUC 35i When, df'tjr a very hard-fought and a loiig-doubiful day, Na poleoii liad succeeded in driving back the Prussian army frora Ligny, and had resolved on marching himself to assail the Eng- plish, 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 aft- erward 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 re mark here that Grouchy was not sent in pursuit of Blucher till late on the 17th, and that the force given to him was insufficient to make head against the whole Prussian army ; for Blucher's men, thougn they were heaten back, and suffiired 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 himself, who, though severely injured in the battle at Ligny, was as energetic and act- ive 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. " I< 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. WeUington and Blu- cher trusted each other as cordially, and co-operated as zealously. as formerly had been the case with Marlborough and Eugene. It was m 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 Pnissians is really to say that he won it by the very means on which he relied, and without the expectation of which the battle would not have been fought. Napohon himself has found fault with Wellington* for not hav • See Montholon's 'Memoirs." vol. iv., p 44 362 BATTLE OF WATERLOO. ing retreated beyond Waterloo. The short answer may be, than the duke had reason to expect that his army coukl singly resist the French at Waterloo until the Prussians came up, and thac. on the Prussians joining, there weuld be a sufficient force, united under himself and Blucher, for completely overwhelming the en- emy. And while Napoleon thus censures his great adversary, he involuntarily bears the highest possible testimony to the mil- itary character of the English, and proves decisively of what paramount importance was the battle to which he challsnged his fearless opponent. Napoleon asks, "If the English army had been beaten oA Waterloo, what would have been the Hse of those numeroics bodies of troojjs, of Prussians, Austrians, Get- mans, and Spaniards, ivhich locre advancing bij forced march- es to the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees ?"* The strength of the army under the Duke of Wellington at Wa terloo was 49,608 infantry, 12,402 cavalry, and 5645 artillery men, with 156 guns.f 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 difier ent nations is to be taken. In the emperor's own words, speaking uf this campaign, " 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 6000 men of the old German Legion with the duke ; these were veteran troops, and of excellent quality. But the rest of the army was made up of Hanoverians, Brunswickers, Nassau- ers, Dutch, and Belgians, many of whom were tried soldiers, and fought well, but many had been lately levied, and not a few were justly suspected 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 cavaliy, 7232 artillery-men, being a total of 71,947 men and 246 guns.^ They were the elite of the national forces oi France ; and of all the numerous gallant armies which that mar- tial land has poured forth, never was there one braver, or bettei ilisiiplined, or better led, than the host that took up its position a1 Waterloo on. tne morning of the 18th of .Time, 1815. Perhaps those who have not seen tlic field of battle at Watei ♦ Montlioloti's " Memoirs," vol. iv., p. 44. t Siborne, vol. i , p. 37G t Montliolon's •' Memoirs," vol. iv., p. 41. 4 See Sihcriie, vt supra BATTLE OF WAT EK LOO. i5'd liHi, or the admirable model of the ground aiiu cf the ^onflictmg armies which was executed by Captain SiboruL, may gain a gen erally accurate idea of the localities by picturing to themselves a valley between two and three miles long, if various breadths at dilicreut points, but generally not exceeding half a mile. On «ach side of the valley there is a winding chain of low hills, run 1 i'aig somewhat parallel with each other. The declivity from each of these ranges of hills to the intervening valley is gentle but not uniform, the undulations of the ground being frequent and considerable. The English army was posted on the northern, and the French army occupied the southern ridge. The artillery of each side thundered at the other from their respective heights "throughout the day, and the charges 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 centre of the northern chain of hills, and the village of La Belle Alliance is close behind the centre of the southern ridge. The high road from Charleroi to Brussels runs through both these villages, and bisects, therefore, both the English and the French positions. The line of thi<; road was the line of Napoleon's intended advance on Brussels. There are some other local particulars connected with the sit- uation of each army which it is necessary to bear in mind. The strength of the British position did not consist merely in the oc- cupation of a ridge of high ground. A village and ravine, called Merk Braine, on the Duke of Wellington's extreme right, secured him from his flardc being turned on that side ; and on his extremi left, two little hamlets, called La Haye and Papillote, gave t> similar though a slighter protection. It was, however, less nee essary to provide for this extremity of the position, as it was on this (the eastern) side that the Prussians were coming up. Be- hind the whole British position is the great and extensive forest ^f Soignies. As no attempt was made by the French to turn Either of the English flanks, and the battle was a day of straight forward fighting, it is chiefly important to see what posts there wrre in front of the British lino 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 that each was of very great importance m \hi 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 Goumout or Hougou- 35 1 BATTLE OF ■\\' A T K R L O mciit, Avith oat-buildiiigs and a garden, and with a copse of boech tiees oi" about two acres in extent round it. Tliis was strongly garrisoned by the allied troops ; and while it was in their posses* Bion, it Wiis difficult for the enemy to press on and force the Brit- ish 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 marks- men, and great facilities for the sudden concentration of attacking columns. Almost immediately in front of the British centre, 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, and the occupation of which was found to be of very serious consequence. With respect to the French position, the principal feature to be noticed is the village of Planchenoit, which lay a little in the rear of their right (i. e., on the eastern side), and M'hich proved to be of great importance in aiding them to check the advance of the Prussians. 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 had 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 Jawn of the memorable 18th of June broke, the rain was still descending heavily. The French and British armies rose from tlicir 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 watcli *.he position and .arrangements of Uie other on the opposite side ol' the valley. » Not to be confounded with the hamlet of La Have, at the extrerar. eft of the British line. I;.\TTLE OF \VATKK)-00. ot)?i The Duke of Wellington drew up his infantry in two lines, tho second line being composed principally of Dutch and Belgian troops, whose fidelity was doubtful, and of those regiments of other nations which had suflcred most severely at Ciuatre Bras on the IGth. This second line was posted on the northern de- clivity of the hills, so as to be sheltered from the French cannon- ad j. The cavalry was stationed at intervals along the line in the rear, the largest force of horse being collected on the left cf the centre, to the oast of the Charleroi road. On the o})posite neights the French army was drawn up in two general hnee, with tlie entire force of the Imperial Guards, caA^alry as w^ell as infantry, in rear of the centre, as a reserve. English military 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 sustaining, by an immediate and sufficient support, any attack, from whatever point he might direct it, and of drawing promptly together a strong foi^e, to resist any attack that might be made on himself in any part <3f the field.* When his troops were all arrayed, he rode along the lines, receiving every where the most enthusiastic cheers from his men, of whose entire devotion to him his assurance was now doubly sure. On the southern side of the valley the duke's 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 interest and the most scrutinizing anxiety. In a stiU greater de- gree did these feelings actuate their commanders, while watch- ing 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 thoir own, but, in all probability, the fate of Europe. Ap^rt from national interests and considerations, and viewed solely in connection with the opposite characters of the two illustrious chiel's, the approaching contest was contemplated with anxious solicitude by the whole military world. Need this create sur- prise when we reflect that the struggle was one for mastery be- tween the far-famed conqueror of Italy and the victorious liber- ator of the Peninsula ; between the triumphant vanquisher of Eastern Europe, and the bold and successful invader of ihe soutk * Siborne, vol. i., p. 376. ■>'^6 BAl'lLK OF WA'PK .00. ofFrancrl Never M'as th'i ijsae of a sius'le battle loukea loi wivd to as involving consequences of such vast importance — ol such universal influence."* It was appro aching noon hefore the action commenced. Na poleon, in his memoirs, gives as the reason for this delay, the miry state of the ground through the heavy rain of the preced- ing night and day, which rendered it impossible for cavahy 01 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 effect which the sight of the imposing array of his oMii forces was likely to produce on part of the allied army. The Belgian regiments had been tampered with ; and Napoleon had well founded hopes of seeing them quit the Duke of Welling- ton 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 powerful force from his left wing under hia 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 rdiind the house, but a party of the British Guards held the house it.self 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 surround and mask this post with part of their troops from their left wing, while others pressed onward up ^he slope, and assailed the British right. The cannonade, which commenced at first between the Brit- ish right and the French left, in consequence of the attack on Hougoumont, soon became general along both lines ; and about c^ne o'clock Napoleon directed a grand attack to be made undei Marshal Ncy upon the centre 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 * Sihorne, vol. i , p. 377. + Ibid , p. 373 BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 357 ■eavalry under the celebrated Kellerinan, and seven ty-fuur i^na were broiigVit forward ready to be posted on the ridge of a little undulation of tlie ground in the interval between the two main ranges of heights, so as to bring their fire to bear on the duke'a line at a range of abont 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 centre of the Biit [fell po.iition, to take La Haye Sainte, and then, pres.sing forward, to occupy also the farm of Mont St. Jean. He then could cut the mass of Wellington's troops oft" 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 batteries that supported them M'ere now ranged. As the columns descend- ed again from this eminence, the seventy-four guns opened over their heads with terrible efl'c-ct 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 ex- treme left of the allies ; the other three continued to move rapid- ly forward upon the left centre of the allied position. The front line of the allies here was composed of Bylant's brigade of Dutch and Belgians. 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, Bylant's en- tire brigade turned and fled in disgraceful and disorderly panic ; but there were men more worthy of the name behind. The second line of the allies here consisted of two brigades of English infantry, which had suflered severely at Q-uatre Bras. But they were under Picton, and not even Ney himself surpassed in resolute bravery that stern and fieiy spirit. Picton brought his two brigades forward, side by side, in a thin two-deep line. rims joined together, they were not 3000 strong. With tlieso Ficton had to make head against the three victorious French col- amns, upward of four times that strength, and who, encouraged by the easy rout of the Dutch and Belgians, uow came conlid(ut- ly ovev the ridge of the hill. The British infantry stood firm; and as the French halted aud began to deploy into line, Picton poized the critical moment : a close and deadly volley was thrown 503 BATTLE OF V/ATERLOO. in upon them, and then "with a fierce hurrah the Uritish »lasbed in with the bayonet. The French reeled back in confusion ; and a.i they staggered down the hill, a brigade of the English cavalry rode in on them, cutting them down by whole battalions, and taking 2000 prisoners. The British cavalry galloped forward and sabred the artillery-men of Ney's seventy-four advanced guns ; and then cutting the traces and the throats of the horses, rendered these guns totally useless to the French throughout the remainder of the day. In the excitement of success, the English cavalr' .ontinued to press on, but were charged in their turn, and driven oack with severe loss by Milhaud's cuirassiers. This great attack (in repelling which the brave Picton had fall- en) had now completely failed ; and, at the same time, a pow erful body of French cuirassiers, who were advancing along the right of the Charlerci road, had been fairly beaten after a close hand-to-hand fight by the heavy cavalry of the English house- hold brigade. Hougoumont was still being assailed, and was successfully resisting. Troops were now beginning to appear at the edge of the horizon on Napoleon's right, which he too well knew to be Prussian, though he endeavored to persuade his fol- lowers 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 desperate encounter, no part of the British position had been forced. Napoleon next determined to try M'hat efl'ect he could produce on the British centre and right by charges of hia splendid cavalry, brought on in such force that the duke's caval- ry could not check them. Fresh troops were at the same time sent to assail La Haye Sainte and Hougoumont, the possession of these posts being the emperor's unceasing object. Squadron after squadron of the French cuirassiers accordingly ascended the slopes on the duke's right, and rode forward with dauntless courage against the batteries of the British artillery in that part of the field. The artillery-men were driven from their guns, and the cuirassiers cheered loudly at their supposed 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 ter- rible edect on their own squadrons. Time after time they rode forward wilh invariably the same result ; and as they receded BATTLE OF WATKKLOO. 35^ from each attack, the British artillery-moa rushed forward Iroir, the centres of the squares, where they had taken refuge, and pUed 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 ths means were now given for organizing another formidable at- tack on the centre of the allies. There was no time to be lost : Blucher and Bulow vvere be- ginning tj 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 dope 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 Avas now obliged to send his Young Guard to occupy that village, which was accordMig- ly held by them with great gallantry against the reiterated as- saults of the Prussian left under Bulow. But the force remain- ing under Napoleon 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 miscon duct of the greater part of the Dutch and Belgian troops, the duke was obliged to rely exclusively on his English and Germar 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. Na- poleon 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 En- glish and Prussians the opportunity of completing their junction ; and he knew that other armies were fast coming up to aid them in a march upon Paris, if he should succeed in avoiding an en- counter with them, and retreating upon the capital. A victory at Waterloo was his only alternative from utter ruin, ard he de« termined to employ his Guard in one bold stioke more to mak< that victory his own. SbO BATTLE OF WATEI. LOO. Between seven and eight o'clock the infantry of the Old (ruaid Avas formed into two columns, on the declivity near La Belle Alliance. Ney was placed at their head. Napoleon him- self rode forward to a spot by which his veterans were to pass ; and as they approached he raised his arm, and pointed to the pO" eition of the allies, as if to tell them that their path lay there They ansM'ered with loud cries of "Vive I'Empereur I" and da- fcended the hill from their ow^n side into that "valley of th gladow of death," while their batteries thundered with redovib- led vigor ever their heads upon the British line. The line of march of the columns of the Guard was directed between Hou- (.oumont and La Haye Sainte, against the British right centre ; and at the same time, Donzelot and the French, who had pos- session of La Haye Sainte, commenced a fierce attack upon the I'-ritish centre, a little more to its left. This part of the battle has drawn less attention than the celebrated attack of the Old (fuard ; but it formed the most perilous crisis for the allied army ; and if the Young Guard had been there to support Don- zelot, instead of being engaged with the Prussians at Planche- uoit, the consequences to the allies in that part of the field must have been most serious. The French tirailleurs, who were post- ed in clouds in La Haye Sainte, and the sheltered 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 Hay* Sainte, and commenced firing gi'ape fi-om them on the in- fantry of the allies, at a distance of not more than a hundred paces. The allied infantry here consisted of some German bri- gades, v\'ho were formed in squares, as 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 M'ith heroic fortitude, though tlie grape-shot w^as tearing gaps in their ranks, and the side of one Kjuare was literally blown away by one tremendous volley v liich th'J French gunners poured into it. The Prince of Orange in va n endeavored to lead some Nassau troops tt^ their aid. 1 he NiiSbauers would not or could not face the French ; and some battalions of Brunswickers, whom the Duke of Wellington liad or- dered up as ^ re-enforcement, at first fell back, until the duke iv rerson rallied them and led them on. The duke then galloped BATTLE OF WATERLOO 361 c AT to the right to head his men who were exposed to the attack of the Imperial Guard. He had saved one part of his centre from being routed ; but the French had gained ground here, and the pressiire on the allied line was severe, until it was relieved by the decisive success which the British in the right centre achieved over the columns of the Guard. The British troops on the crest of that part of the pieition, which the first column of Napoleon's Guards assailed, were Maitland's brigade of British Guards, havmg Adam's brigade on tneir right. Maitland's men were lying down, in order to avoid, as far as possible, the destructive effect of the French artillor}', which kept up an unremitting fire from the opposite heights, un- til the first column of the Imperial Guard had advanced so fai up the slope toward the British position that any farther firing of the French artillery-men would endanger their own comrades. Meanwhile, the British guns were not idle ; but shot and shell plowed fast through the ranks of the stately an'ay 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 sur prise, 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 fi-om where the British Guards were lying down, when the voice 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 tli£ 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 ruelied forward, and, conspicuous in front of their men, attempted to deploy them into a more extended line, so as to enable Ihera to reply with efl'ect to the British fire. But Maitland's brigade kept shoM'ering in volley after volley with deadly rapidity The decimated column grew disordered in its vain eiibrts to expand it- self into a more efficient formation. The right word was given at the right w — leut to the British ^or the bayonet-charge, and d62 BATTLE OF WATEKLOO the brigade sprang forward with a loud cheer against tSeir di» mayed antagonists. In an instant the compact mass of th') French spread out into a rabble, and they fled back down the hill pursu- ed by Maitland's men, who, however, returned to their position in time to take part in the repulse of the second column oi the Impe- rial 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 Ad- am'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 assail ed with a destructive fire by a four-deep body of British infantry, extending all along it. Li 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 thtj allies so severely in that quarter. The sight of the Old Guard broken and in flight checked the ardor which Donzelot's troops had hitherto displayed. They, too, began to waver. Adam's (victorious brigade was pressing after the flying Guard, and now cleared away the assailants of the allied centre. But the battle was not yet won. Napoleon had still some battalions in reserve near La Belle Alliance. He was rapidly rallying the remains of the first column of his Guards, and he had collected into one body (he remnants of the various corps of cavalry, which had sufi^ered BO severely in the earlier part of the day. The duke instantly formed the bold resolution of now himself becoming the assailant, and leading his successful though enfeebled army forward, while the disheartening efiect of the repulse of the Imperial Guard on the French army was still strong, and before Napoleon and Ney could 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, lie liad drawn some reserveb 0/ B A r r L E OK WATERLOO 363 norse from that quarter, and he had a brigade of Hussars undei Vivian fresh and ready at hand. Without a moment's hesitation, he launched these against the cavahy near La Belle Alliance. The charge was as successful as it was daring ; and as there was now no hostile cavalry to clieck the British infantry in a forM'ard movement, the duke gave the long-wished-for command for a gen- eral advance of the ai'my along the whole line upon the foe. [t was now past eight o'clock, and for nine deadly hours had the British and German regiments stood unflinching under the fire of artillery, the charge of cavalry, and every variety of assault that the compact columns or the scattered tirailleurs of the ene- my's infautiy 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 dovra into 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 had held Planchenoit so bravely, was at last compelled to give way. Some regiments of tht 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 past all recovery. The victorious 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 drcxidful day, did not urge the pursuit beyond the heights which the en- emy 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 confident expectation 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 number of those who escaped, dispersed as soon as they crossed the frontier The army under the Duke of Welltngton lost nearly 15,000 men m kiUed and woundei on this terrible day of battle The J04 BATTLE OF WATERLOO. loss of the Prusian army was nearly 7000 more. At such a feai ful price was the deliverance of Europe pm'chased On closing cm- survey of this, the last of the Decisive Battles of the World, it is pleasing to contrast the year which it signal- ized with the one that is now passing over our heads. We have not (and long may \/e want) the stern excitement of the struggles of war, and we see no captive standards of our European neigh- bors brought in triumph to our shrines. But we witness an in- finitely prouder spectacle. We see the banners of every civilized nation waving over the arena of our competition with each othei in the arts that minister to our race's support and happiness, and not to its suffering and destruction. »' Peace hath her victories No less renowned than War ;" and no battle-field ever witnessed a victory more noble than that which England, under her sovereign lady and her royal prince, is now teaching the peoples of the earth to achieve over selfish prejudices and international feuds, in the great cause of the gen eral promotion of the industry and welfare of mankind. THX SIfD. Job Date -- - Mend by Time......'.... Stab by No. Sect Sew b .. Score Press Strip Sec .. Tliis book bouQd by Pacific Library Clnd^g pany, Los Angeles, specialists in Liluuiy Onr" work and materials are guaranteed indclinitely to >-atisl:actlou of purcliaser, defects nppearins; In either will be made K