UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNlA,SANDjEGO lllllllllllllllllllll^ ^"7822 62463 5^ ^^i^^ ^rihjy m '/^. '^ Cljarl^s.i. (^XZ^'^XW, % °-"'ii'lf"i«(f"'°'f™'> UNIVERSITY, 0^,CAUFORN.A SAN D|E|BO 3 1822 02463 bbZcJ ICC-.- G.CB.-G.C.ii i Mli-iTARY BIOGHAPHY, itma ThjE-ITXcihz. c^Xapcleori rrxmi TMii^Hoo iutrtd^tnt : :E:^ufusyiaj tor the E:?fGxisii classics FCBLISHETj BT SCOTT. "VTEBSTER It GEARY . BRITISH MILITARY BIOGRAPHY: COIIPRISING THE LIVES OF THE MOST DISTINGUISHED COMMANDERS, FROM ALFRED TO WELLINGTON: CONNECTED BY AX OUTLINE OF THE MILITARY HISTORY OF ENGLAND, FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE PRESENT TIME. Time it is, when racing war is done. To smile at 'scapes and perils overblown. Shakspeare, LONDON: PRINTED FOR SCOTT, WEBSTER, AND GEARY, CHARTERHOUSE SQUARE. 184L Uniform with thi? work is published, BRITISH NAVAL BIOGRAPHY: comprising the Lives of the raost distinguished Admirals, from Howard to Codring-ton: with an outline of the Naval History of England, from the earliest Period to the present Time. Second Edition, with portrait of Codrington, and vignette, Price 5s. FIELD-MARSHAL ARTHUR, DUKE OF WELLINGTON, K.G., G.C.B,, G.C.H., &c. &c. &c. THE HERO OF WATERLOO, AND TEE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS OF THOSE GREAT COMMAKDERS WHO HAVE LED BRITISH ARMIES TO VICTORT, AND MAINTAINED UNTARNISHED THE HONOUR OF THEIR COUNTRT, THIS VOLUME OF xMILITARY HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY, IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, EY HIS grace's very obedient SERVANTS, THE PUBLISHERS. PREFACE. From the gratifying reception which has been given by the Public'to the British Naval Biography, the Author has been induced to complete the History of the United Services by the publication of the following work, of which a short explanation may not be deemed unnecessary. In detailing the exploits of our country by sea, and tracing those steps by which she acquired the unquestionable supremacy of the ocean, we were obliged to confine our attention exclusively to mari- time operations, in consequence of the limits to which the work was restricted. A mere passing allusion, therefore, was the utmost that could be given to those wars which Britain conducted by land simul- taneously with her naval expeditions, and by which the services of her nav^ were rendered more brilliant and eflFective. But in order to give a full and dis- tinct \-iew of those wars that have been waged by land and sea at the same period, and in which success upon the one element facilitated our triumphs upon the other, a separate work appeared to be indis- pensable, wherein the Military events and personages of our national history should enjoy the same atten- tion which was bestowed upon the Naval. But, besides this, how large an amount of heroic achievements belongs to the military department of British history, with which our maritime wars have no connexion whatever ! ^Yhen as yet the navy of our island consisted only of a few coracles, its natives were maintaining a long and gallant resistance against vi PREFACE. the legions of Rome, until they were reduced to tae vassalage of Roman provincials. Then follows the Anglo- Saxon portion of our annals, in which a fresh life was infused into the country by the occupation of a new race, but during which, comprising a period of six centuries, the history was almost entirely of a military character. Such, also, was the nature of events during the long series of Anglo-Norman kings, in which the terrible wars that were waged with France and Scotland were conducted by land. Indeed, until the accession of Queen Elizabeth, Britain had neither properly understood nor rightly availed herself of the advantages of her insular posi- tion ; and therefore it is at her reign that the Naval history of our country properly commences. But previous to this era, we have fifteen centui'ics of in- vasion and conflict to chronicle, amidst the struggles of which the British nation had slowly emerged from barbarism, and assumed a commanding station in the civilized world. Even this extensive portion also, crowded though it be with great events, is not the most important in the records of our military achieve- ments. The civil wars of the Commonwealth, the campaigns of Marlborough, and, above all, the ex- ploits of Wellington, will suffice to prove the truth of the assertion. With a subject so extensive for the purposes of History, the Author of this work has pursued the same plan which he adopted in the British Naval Biography. The reader will therefore find that what may be strictly called the Biographical department, occupies the principal portion of the volume. An account has been given, at the commencement, of those bold barbarian chiefs who resisted, during the first century, the attempts of the Romans to subject Britain to their sway ; and as this portion of our national records is remote, and therefore scanty and obscure, a mere summary has been adopted from the accounts of the Roman writers themselves, rather than from the uncertain legends of the ancient British PREFACE. Tii chronicles. After these, succeeds the history of the Saxon Alfred— a hero all but sainted in our grateful and admiring remembrances, and with the benefits of whose institutions we are still almost as strongly im- pressed as if he had been our contemporary. Then comes the life of William the Conqueror, a mighty land-mark in English history, as he was the founder of a new dynasty which still occupies the British throne. Richard I. succeeds, the model of a Crusading hero ; and afterwards Edward I., one of the earliest of those warriors of the middle ages who sought in military superiority the means of territorial centralization. The lives of Edward III., the Black Prince, and Henry V., exhibit the origin of that national anti- pathy, and those deadly wars, between France and England, which, perhaps, unfortunately have not yet wholly terminated ; while the biographies of Sidney and Perrot, two heroes of the court of Elizabeth, illustrate that important period when the chivalry of the middle ages was melting fast away before the coming of a new and better era. After this period, we have a different state of politics, in which war is rather the means, than the end, of national existence ; and where heroes are animated with higher principles than mere animal courage and the love of animal excitement. From Cromwell to \yellington follows an illustrious array of commanders, m whose deeds we trace the aggrandizement of our national fame, the extension of our empire, and the establishment of our external safety, as well as those internal im- provements which have substituted for the despotism of the feudal, and the miseries of the barbaric ages, the refinement, the security, and the happiness of civilization. The individual sketches of this impor- tant series have been also connected, as before, by Chapters of General History, in which the origin and progress of the different wars have been traced, and those changes in society been illustrated, which were necessary for the reader to understand the viii PREFACE. epoch, and the position of each personage in his proper order of succession. With this brief explanation the Author submits his work to the consideration of the public. He has endeavoured impartially and faithfully to record, and in a form which seemed to him best fitted for the purpose, the great and glorious deeds of his countrymen by sea and land. And he would also state, in conclusion, that the task — at all times an important one — has gradually acquired in his mind a higher interest from the surmise that the period of peace was again drawing to a conclusion ; and that even the present generation may be summoned to emulate those deeds of valour and patriotism which it has been his lot to record. Should such an emergency unhappily occur, he will not have written in vain, if any of his readers should be animated by the history of the past, to kindle at the deeds of their fi'ih^r-s, and follow their example. October, 1840. CONTEXTS. Chap. I. — From the Invasion of Britain by Julius Caesar to the arrival of the Saxons . . 1 Cassivellanus 7 Caractacus 11 Boadicea 17 Galgacus 21 Chap. II. — From the arrival of the Saxons in Eng- land to the Norman Conquest . , . 27 Alfred the Great . bora a.d. 849, died 901 35 William the Conqueror . . . I0S7 57 Hereward Le Wake 80 Chap. III.— From the accession of William Rufus to the death of Henr>' II 85 Richard Coeur de Lion born 1157, died 1199 117 Chap. IV. — From the accession of John to the death of Henry III 134 Edward I. . . bom 1240, died 1307 155 Chap. V. — From the accession of Edward II. to the invasion of France by Edward III. . . 174 Edward III. . . born 1312, died 1377 201 Edward the Black Prince . 1330 — ]37« 214 Chap. VI. — From the accession of Richard II. to the death of Henry IV. .... 228 Henry V. . . . bom 1388, died 1422 243 Chap. VII.— From the accession of Henry VI. to the expulsion of the English from France 255 X CONTENTS. Chap. VIII. — From the commencement of the civil war between the Houses of York and Lancaster to the accession of Henry VII. . Chap. IX. — From the accession of Henry VII. to ; the death of queen Elizabeth Sir Philip Sidney . born 1554, died 15S6 Sir John Perrot ... — 1592 -Chap. X.— From the accession of James I. to the death of Charles I. Oliver Cromwell . born 1599, died 1C58 Chap. XL— From the death of Oliver Cromwell to the Accession of George III. Duke of Marlborough born 1650, died 1722 Earl of Peterborough . . 1658 — 1735 Duke of Argyll . . . 1678 — 1743 Major-General Wolfe . . 1726 — 1759 Chap. XII. — From the accession of George III. to the Peace of 1815 Clive, baron of Plassey born 1725, died 1774 Elliott, lord Heathfield . 1718 — 1790 Sir Ralph Abercromby, K.B. 1733 — 180L Marquis Cornwallis Lord Harris Sir David Baird, G.C.B. Viscount Lake Sir John Stuart, K.B. Sir John Moore, K.B. Duke of Wellington Lord Hill . Marquis of Anglesey . Sir Thomas Picton Viscount Combei'mere Lord Lynedoch Viscount Beresford 1737 1746 C. 1757 1744 1805 1829 1829 1806 1760 — 1815 1761 — 1809 1769 — Pag'e 299 317 319 323 342 371 393 404 412 420 427 440 446 457 469 476 486 492 497 513 1768 — 1758 — 1775 — 1750 — 1815 604 612 618 625 MILITAUY HISTORY. CHAP. I. From the Invasion of Britain by Julius Ccpsar to the Arrival of t lie Saxons. That Britain was peopled from the opposite coast of Gaul, seems scarcely to admit of doubt : this fact may be assumed as certain, from the similarity in religion, government, language, dress, and manners, that pre- vailed between the Britons and the Gauls. When the island was first invaded by the Roman conquerors, thej' found it inhabited by a numerous and hi^h-spirited population, ardent for liberty, and prepared to defend it. But, unfortunately, their form of government was un- fitted to resist the attack, of such invaders. The Britons, instead of being united under one head, were divided into forty tribes, some more, some less powerful; and each tribe was g'overned by a petty king or chief, who appears to have been elective, and whose authority was of a very feeble and precarious character. Although, in cases of great and general emergency, a chief was invested v/ith the ofiice of generalissimo, his sway over so many rival and independent leaders was, at the best, uncertain. A sudden reverse of fortune, or even the termination of a campaign, was enough to dissolve the confederacy ; and each chieftain was then ready to make a separate peace with the enemy, or to retire to his own territory. To prevent that total anarchy which would soon hare been the result of such a government, it happened, fortunately perhaps for the Britons, that the sacerdotal was superior to the regal authority. The Druids, that mystenous class of men who carefully confined all know- ledge to themselves, were the true sovereigns both of the 2 MILITARY HISTORY. kings and people. They were the teachers of the youth, the judges of the tribes, the legislators of the states; and such was their influence, that no political measure could be adopted without their sanction. But their office as the ministers of the gods, independently of their superior knowledge, invested them with an ascendancy which no political considerations could have imparted. While they promised future happiness to the obedient, they could easily control the most refractory by spiritual terrors and denunciations. In addition also to these, they could inflict present misery, by excluding the cul- prit from the public rites of religion — a sentence as fearful as that of excommunication or interdict in the darkest ages of popery. It was from this ecclesiastical ascendancy that the Romans experienced their greatest difficulty in the conquest of Britain. The Druids every where roused the people to resistance by every religious incentive, and, perhaps, exerted the uttermost of their scientific knowledge in plans for the national defence. Before the battle, they animated the bai-ds to sing the deeds and praises of the brave ; and, when the conflict was ended, they presided over the fate of the captives, whom they sacrificed as the most acceptable offering to the gods. It was no wonder, therefore, that the Romans, who were so tolerant of all religions, had so little mercy for the Druids : they felt that the conquest of Britain could never be fully accomplished until the whole order was destroyed. The Britons, in their persons, were considerably taller than the Gauls, and their physical strength seems to have been proportioned to their bulk. The dress of the inore civilized was cloth of chequered colours, like that of the Gauls, or the skins of beasts ; but the clothing of the greater part of the people was very scanty, until they adopted the Roman costume. One peculiarity of the Britons was the practice of tattooing, similar to that of the South Sea islanders, by which they punctured upon their limbs and bodies the indelible figures of various objects. The food of the Britons chiefly consisted of grain, the milk of their cattle, and the produce of the chase; but, although their seas and rivers could have afforded them a copious supply for the table, they ate no fish, probably from some superstitious principle. In the same manner, they avoided using hares as articles INVASION BY CiESAR. 3 of food. In the domestic life of the ancient Britons, as detailed in the writings of Cassar and the Roman authors of the first and second centuries, they appear to have been a people very little advanced beyond the degree of common savages ; but, on the other hand, their temples, their barrows, their war-chariots, and military science, shew a strength of intellect and knowledge of mecha- nical arts which nations of mere savages have seldom, if ever, exhibited. Society was in this state when Julius Caesar, after hav- ing conquered Gaul (France), felt an irresistible desire of adding Albion to his conquests. By such an exploit he would gratify his ambition, and afford an excuse for being continued in command of his army for a longer period than was customary, that he might promote his ulterior views against the liberties of the Roman people. Political reasons also were not wanting. Druidism was the religion of Gaul as well as of Britain, and it was considered that the subjugation of the former could only be secured by the suppression of that religion ; and as Britain was the sacred island of the Druids, the super- stition must be suppressed at the fountain-head. Al- though these causes could not be publicly avowed, one was still in store, sufficient for the purposes of an invader. The Gauls, in their resistance to the arms of the Romans, had been aided by British auxiliaries. Having an- nounced this circumstance as the motive of the expe- dition, he marched his troops to the sea-coast between Calais and Boulogne, and began to collect ships from the neighbouring ports. He had previously acquired some knowledge of the British coasts and the manners of the natives, from his inquiries among the merchants of Gaul, and a short reconnoitring voyage, made in a single galley, by Yolusenus, one of his officers. The simple Britons were not ignorant of the B. c. stoi-m that thus gathered in the distance. The 55. traders of Gaul, who had been accustomed to traffic with them, warned the British chiefs of the approaching invasion, upon which they despatched ambassadors to Cresar, with offers of hostages and sub- mission. He dismissed these envoys with a gracious answer, and soon after embarked with the foot soldiers of the seventh and tenth legions, consisting of about twelve thousand men in all, conveyed in eighty transports 4 MILITARY HISTORY. from the port of Itius, Icchis, or Witsand, between Boulog-ne and Calais. His cavalry was also embarked in eighteen other vessels ; but, owing to contrary winds, they were unable to follow him — a circumstance that impeded all the operations of the campaign. On the 26th of August (B.C. 55), this important armament set sail, and on reaching- the British coast, near Dover, he saw the cliffs and the beach covered with armed men pre- pared to oppose him. The nature of the coast made it difficult to effect a landing. Ctesar, therefore, waited until he was joined by the remainder of his fleet, and then sailed about seven miles farther, until he found a place fit for debarkation, in the neighbourhood of Sand- wich. In the mean time, the Britons, who had followed the motions of the fleet, rushed into the water, and encountered the legionaries as soon as they attempted to land with such resolution, that the situation of the latter became every moment more perilous. It was then that the standard-bearer of the tenth legion performed an exploit which Ca?sar has thought worthy to commemorate. First invoking the favour of the gods upon his purpose, he exclaimed in a loud voice to his companions — * Follow me, my fellow-soldiers, unless you will give up your standard to the enemy : I, at least, will do my duty to the commonwealth and my commander :' and, with these words, he plunged into the sea with the eagle of the legion, and hurried into the thickest of the conflict. His example inspired the hesitating Romans, who charged the enemy with irresistible violence. This attack, and the war-engines upon the galleys, now brought into proper position, and which swept the beach with showers of missiles, decided the conflict. The Britons, broken by this fresh attack, and confounded by the novelty and destructiveness of these engines, retired at last from the unequal conflict ; while Caesar, from the want of cavalry, was unable to follow up his success. When the Britons had found that their pacific embassy to Cjesar had been insufficient to avert the invasion, they were so indignant, that they threw Comius, his envoy, into prison ; but the subsequent conflict and the establishment of the Romans upon their coast suggested more pacific measures. They now liberated Comius, and sent him with envoys to the conqueror to make fresh INVASION BY CESAR. 5 offers of submission. Caesar, after rebukiug them for opposing him uithout cause, contented himself with demanding a certain number of hostages, some of whom were delivered immediately, and the others promised in a few days. But, on the same night in which this peace was ratified, a high spring tide rose, to the astonishment of the Romans, who had been accustomed only to the peaceful shores of the Mediterranean: the vessels that were drawn up upon the beach were soon swamped and filled with water, while the larger ships, that lay. at anchor, were dashed to pieces and reduced to complete wrecks. The astounded conquerors now felt themselves cooped up in a strange country without means of retreat or subsistence ; while the Britons triumphed in this accident, and resolved to profit by it. Secretly, but rapidly, the island chiefs mustered their forces, in the hope of crushing the invaders at a blow, while they were busily employed in patching up the wTecks of their fleet, that they might send to Gaul for supplies of ships and provisions. By this time, the Britons had gathered in their harvest, and only one unreaped field remained to tempt the famished Romans to forage. The seventh legion was sent for this purpose ; but, as soon as they began to cut down the grain, a powerful ambush of the natives started from the field, while others burst from the neighbouring woods ; a whole tide of horse, foot, and chariots surrounded and had almost over- powered this large Roman detachment, when Caesar, •who saw from his fortified camp the cloud of dust in the distance, suspected the cause and flew to the rescue. At the head of two cohorts (1200 men) he arrived at the scene of dangei*, and by great exertions of skill and valour succeeded in withdrawing the legion. The natives eagerly followed their retreat, and surrounded for several days the camp itself, which they hoped to carry by storm. But here Caesar gave them a terrible lesson in Roman strategy. Selecting the point and the moment of onset, he burst unexpectedly upon the enemy, broke their loose ranks asunder, and pursued them with great slaughter, until his soldiers were exhausted with the chase. The Britons again sued for peace, with greater sincerity than before, and Caesar, who was impatient to return to Gaul, acceded to their request. He only re- quired double the number of hostages that had been MILITARY HISTORY. demanded on the former occasion ; and ordering them to be sent after him into Gaul, he set sail the same night (September 20th). In consequence of this hurried de- parture, only two of the British chiefs fulfilled their part of the treaty by sending hostages to the conqueror — a circumstance that served as an apology for a fresh invasion in the following year. In the foregoing campaign, Caesar declares that B. c. his purpose was not to conquer, but merely to 54. survey the island ; and having acquired the ne- cessary information, he now made preparations for an entire conquest, upon a scale that shewed his high estimation of the valour of the Britons. Five legions (about 30,000 men) and 2,000 cavalry, a force equal to that with which he gained the victory at Pharsalia and overthrew the liberty of Rome, was marched to Portus Itius in the spring, and embarked in 800 vessels. This time, the islanders, probably dismayed by such an im- posing force, made no attempt to interrupt its landing ; and Ceesar disembarked his soldiers at a place near Sandwich, which he had fixed upon the preceding yeai* as fittest for the purpose. As the Britons had retreated on his arrival, he followed them in a rapid night march, and at length came up with them well posted upon some rising grounds behind a river — perhaps the Stour, near Canterbury. The natives gallantly disputed the passage of the river, but were repulsed ; after which they fell back upon an entrenchment in the woods, the avenues to which were defended by felled trees laid upon one another. Such a fortress was but a poor defence against the Romans ; and the seventh legion having thrown up a mo(md of earth in front of it, soon compelled the natives to abandon their position. On the following morning, Ccesar was ready to pursue the retreating enemy, when a party of Roman horse from the camp arrived, with the unwelcome intelligence that his fleet had been driven on shore during the night, and the greater part of it wrecked ; upon which he hastily marched his army back to the coast. Here he adopted such measures for the repair of his damaged vessels, and the construction of new ones, that his navy was soon as effective as ever ; and having now acquired some experi- ence of the uncertainty of the British seas, he caused the whole fleet to be drawn up on shore and enclosed CASSIVELLANUS. 7 within the defences of his camp, after whicli he resumed his active measures against the enemy. CASSIVELLANUS.* The resistance of the Britons had hitherto been of a desultory character, the tribes acting without concert or general principle ; but having become wise from their disasters, they improved the interval of Caesar's absence in electing a generalissimo. Their choice fell upon Cassivellanus, king or chief of the Catuellani, a tribe who are supposed to have occupied Buckingham, Bed- ford, Hertford, Huntingdon, and part of Northampton. This, the earliest of British heroes on record, had ac- quired a high reputation in war, and his first measures justified the choice of his compeers. Assuming the oflFensive, he made a bold attack upon the enemy, and though repulsed, his retreat appears to have been made with much skill : Caesar indeed acknowledges that the fugitives turned short upon the pursuers, and slew seve- ral of his soldiers. After this battle, the Britons changed their warfare into a course of surprisals, and in these they were particularly successful : they darted unex- pectedly from the woods upon two cohorts, routed and nearly cut them in pieces, in sight of the whole Roman army, and then retired to their fastnesses in safety. On the next morning, Caesar saw only a few troops hover- ing upon the distant hills, and supposing the opportunity favourable for forage, he sent for this purpose more than half of his army. This large detachment had not gone far, when the Britons sallied from their concealments, and assaulted the Roman legions with great confidence ; but here, as in other pitched battles, the science and discipline of the invaders triumphed. The naked bar- barians, after prodigious efforts, were compelled to give way to the iron masses of the enemy, and being charged impetuously by horse and foot at the same instant, their complete discomfiture followed. This defeat was fatal to the British coalition ; the chiefs, most of whom had been the enemies or the rivals of Cassivellanus, drew off their followers, and retired to their own districts. Even yet, however, the forsaken hero did not despair. At the head of those forces that still adhered to him, he * Milton calls him Casiibelan. 8 MILITARY HISTORY. fell back for the defence of his own territories beyond the Thames, and Cassar, who had not yet penetrated into the interior, prepared to follow him. On passing through Kent, and part of Surrey, he arrived at the Thames near Chertsey, where the river was fordable ; but Cas- sivellanus, ^l•ho was posted with his troops on the other side, had fortified both the bank and bed of the river with sharp stakes, which, in the latter case, were con- cealed by the water. Caesar, however, who had been warned of these obstacles, quickly surmounted them ; his soldiers forded the river, although only their heads appeared above water, and on reaching the opposite side, they charged the Britons with such vigour, that the latter were soon put to flight. Cassivellanus, who now retained only 4000 war-chariots, resolved to harass the Romans by that desultory kind of warfare that had hitherto been most effectual ; he therefore hovered upon the flanks and rear of the enemy with his light forces, distui-bed their march with continual alarms, and sur- prised their foraging parties, so that the Romans were never certain of a moment's rest, or masters of any spot of ground, except that which was covered by their camp. In spite of these hei-oic efforts of the Britons, the pro- gress of the legions, although slow, M'as certain. Cas- sivellanus had swept their line of march of all the cattle and provisions ; but the chiefs who had seceded from the coalition, and were willing to make their peace with Cassar, repaired to his camp, and not only supplied him with provisions, but also with intelligence, so that he was able to track his adversary through the intricate passes of the country. At length he penetrated to the capital or stronghold of Cassivellanus, supposed to have been near St. Alban's, which was nothing but a thick wood sprinkled with small clusters of huts, and sur- rounded by a ditch and a rampart. Although this place was of considerable strength, Cajsar attacked it in two different points, and carried it, notwithstanding a brave resistance of the Britons. During these events, Cas- feivellanus had conceived the bold idea of shifting the seat of war, and strikin.g a decisive blow, by an attack upon the Roman camp and shipping on the coast; and for this purpose he sent to the four kings who ruled over Kent, instructing them to fall upon the enemy's CASSIVELLANUS. 9 entrenchments with all their forces. This they did, but they were defeated with great slaughter; upon which the brave Cassivellanus was obliged to yield to necessity. Caesar, who was as eager for peace as his enemy, granted it on very easy terms, after which he immediately hur- ried to Gaul, in consequence of revolts that had hap- pened during his absence. From this period the gallant Cassivellanus completely disappears from the page of history. In the foregoing account of the Roman campaigns in Britain, we have followed the only narrative that re- mains of it — the narrative of Caesar himself, which, however, is open to several suspicions. His victories over the islanders have nothing of the leni, vidi, tici, about them: instead of this, they appear to have been gained with great diflBculty, and were often followed by serious checks. Notwithstanding his alleged successes, his progress was slow, and his losses great for a con- queror; and at last he seemed more eager to leave the island than he had been to enter it. He boasted that he had conquered Britain, although he neither built a single fortress, or left a legion to secure such a valuable acquisition. He tells us also that he compelled the chieftains to become tributaries ; but this may safely be considered to have merely extended to an acknowledg- ment of the power of Rome, as he has left no account of the nature or amount of the tribute, or that any collectors were left by him to receive it. These proofs of conquest Caesar has no where found it convenient to establish. Tacitus indeed declares, that Caesar was only the discoverer, not the conqueror of Britain ; and the poet Lucan hints that the Britons actually put him to flight. Be this as it may, his accounts of such re- mote victories could scarcely be contradicted in the Roman capital; and perhaps, like the bulletins of his modern successor, Bonaparte, they were more calcu- lated to produce an imposing effect for the passing day, than to supply the purposes and the wants of veritable history. A brief glance at the weapons and military tactics of the Britons gives us a high idea of the native valour of the people. Defensive armour they had none, with the exception of a light round shield, made of oziers ; they even threw oflf their scanty clothing when preparing B 2 10 MILITARY HISTORY, for battle, and thus opposed tlieir naked tattooed boilicM to the massive well-tempered mail of the legionaries. Their offensive weapons were, a large, clumsy sword made of copper, which was sometimes hai-deued with a little tin, but liable to break or bend notwithstanding with a good blow— a spear, the butt-end of which had a hollow ball containing small pieces of metal, by the rattling of which in a charge they tried to frighten the enemy's horses — and a short dirk. If the stone axes, and the heads of arrows and lances made of flint, so plentifully found in old British barrows, were also used so late as the Roman invasion, it gives us a still poorer idea of the weapons with which the Britons opposed the bravest troops in the world, headed by the most prudent and skilful conquerors. But the choicest arm of British warfare was their chariots. These were furnished at the axles with hooks and scythes, that pierced and cut asunder every thing opposed to them ; the horses that drew these cars seem to have been remarkable for fleet- ness and docility, while the charioteers managed them with consummate skill. The noise v.'ith which these chariots advanced, the violence of their onset, and the dexterity with which they were winded through every opening in the ranks, confounded the legionaries, while the drivers leaping to the ground at the most favourable points of onset, and attacking in a thousand places at once, increased the dismay and confusion. Besides their war-chariots, the Britons possessed a very serviceable cavalry; but the chief strength of their armies con- sisted of the foot. Even with their scanty weapons, and imperfect discipline, they might perhaps have held their powerful enemy at bay, if they had contented themselves with a war of skirmishes among the woods and morasses, into which the heavy-armed legionaries could not follow them with effect. But such a pro- tracted kind of warfare is always too much either for the foresight or the patience of barbarians. Unable to endure suspense, eager to come to blows, and stake all upon a single chance, the Britons rashly engaged the enemy in pitched battles, where Roman science and weapons were sure to be victorious. After the departure of Cajsar from Britain, the A. D. Romans made no farther attempt at invasion for 43. nearly a hundred years. Indeed, the difficulties CAR ACT AC us. U that had attended the first aud second expeditions, how- ever they may have been glossed over, seem to have been very generally understood at Rome ; and although each emperor was successively incited to the attempt, and hailed as the future conqiiei-or of Britain, it was only in the lays of laureates, and the flattery of courtiers. The mad attempt of Caligula to realize these visions, is well known. He marched to Boulogne; gazed upon the British coast ; commanded his soldiers to gather some shells as the spoils of victory, and returned to Ro-.ne in triumph. At length, in a.d. 43, the emperor Claudius re- solved to conquer Britain in good earnest, and Aulus Plautius, a skilful leader, was sent for the purpose with an army of four legions, and a large force of auxiliaries, amounting in all to above 50,000 men. The materials also of which this army was composed were perhaps better fitted for this purpose than even the army of Julius Caesar. For while the legionaries were adequate to all the contingencies of regular warfare, the allies, by whom they were accompanied, were chiefly German barbarians — men as brave, as lightly armed, and skilful in the flying warfare of the woods, as the Britons themselves, and to ■whom therefore the Romans were chiefly indebted for their subsequent success. CARACTACUS. That disunion which had formerly favoured the opera- tions of Cassar still existed among the Britons, and in- stead of uniting for their common safety, each tribe or nation waited passively for the coming of the enemy. The Romans thus landed unopposed, and with the same facility advanced into the country. At length, when the favourable moment of resistance had been lost, two princes of the Trinobantes, Caractacus andTogodumnus, succeeded in rousing the tribes, and leading them against the invaders. A battle ensued, in which the brothers were defeated ; and in consequence of this disaster, se- veral of the tribes withdrew from the confederacy, and submitted to the Romans. Togodumnus and Caractacus were closely followed by the enemy, and again defeated on the right bank of the Severn, after which they con- tinued to retreat eastward to the Thames, where the marshes formed a favourable srround for British warfare. 12 MILITARY HISTORY. Here a desperate conflict took place, in which, although Togodumnus was slain, the Britons appear to have had the advantage. Multitudes of the German and other barbarians who were attached to the Roman army were lost in the morasses, and Plautius was obliged to with- draw his army to a safer position — to wait the arrival of the emperor, who was coming to the island with powerful reinforcements. At length, Claudius arrived from Gaul (a.d. 49); and although his warlike abilities were not of a character to accelerate the conquest of the island, he brought with him a force which, when added to the army of Plautius, seemed to ensure success. Among these reinforcements we read of certain elephants completely harnessed, which were employed for the first and the last time in our island warfare ; but the service they performed, or the astonishment and dismay with which they must have struck the stout hearts of the natives, has been no where recorded. The country of the Ti-inobantes was now overrun by an irresistible enemy, and Camalo- dunum, the capital of Caractacus, was seized and oc- cupied. But that hero was still in the field. Although Vespasian, who had been left in command by Claudius, was employed in subduing the Isle of Wight, and the adjacent states on the coast, while Aulus Plautius was conducting a skilful campaign in the interior, the Bri- tish hero was resisting the latter so successfully, that the advance of the Romans was both slow and ruinous. It is difficult, or rather impossible, at this distance of time to penetrate the darkness of British history during the first century, so as to ascertain the particular achievements of this the most illustrious of its characters ; luit it is enough to state, that with equal, and often with inferior forces, he maintained the warfare for nine years, gave the enemy many a bloody check, and while he was in the field prevented both Plautius and Vespasian from occupying- more of the country than that which lay on the south of the Thames. In the mean time his name had not only become the great rallying word of every British clan, but had already resounded over every part of Italy ; and it was the fashion to compare the poor chief of a barbarian tribe to the most dreaded ene- mies that Rome had ever encountered — to Hannibal and Mithridates. CARACTACUS. 13 Tlie arrival of Ostorius Scapula, as proprtetor ol" A. u. Britain, changed the scene. He found the affairs 50. of the Romans almost hopeless ; but he brought considerable reinforcements, and, what was of more account, he seems to have understood the nature of a British campaign better than his predecessors. On his arrival, instead of waiting for the spring, he commenced hostilities in winter, contrary to every former usage, and the Britons were attacked at unawares, and easily defeated. Having thus recovered all the ground formerly occupied by the Romans, and from which they had been driven back, he secured its possession by a line of forts on the Severn and the Neve, taking care to disarm the natives within the boundary; and in this manner he continued to advance, fortifying each new acquisition, until the more civilized part of the island was enclosed within his defences. It is in the midst of these suc- cesses of Ostorius that Caractacus reappears on the scene. The Silures, who inhabited South Wales, besides being the bravest of the British tribes, were now ani- mated by the presence of that chief, and as his deeds were the theme of every hovel, they selected him for their leader against the aggressors. But notwithstanding his military skill, and perfect knowledge of the country, he was obliged to retire before the enemy, who were superior in numbers. He fell back upon North Wales, where he was joined by many of his brave countrymen, v/ho still prefeiTed death to bondage, and here he re- solved to make a final stand. His ground was admirably selected. His ai^my was secured by natural entrench- ments of steep, rugged hills, the entrances of which were defended by ramparts of huge stones laid upon each other, while a river, difficult to be forded, inter- posed between him and the enemy, and secured him in front. The Roman army now advanced, and Ostorius was as- tonished at the skilful manner in which the Britons were posted. In the mean time, Caractacus harangued the tribes. He told them the hour had come that was to decide whether they should be freemen or slaves ; and he adjured them, by the memory of their brave ances- tors who had baffled the efforts of Caesar, and by the love they bore for their homes, their wives, and their child- ren, to do their uttermost upon this eventful occasion. 14 MILITARY HISTORY. His followers answered with inspiring shouts, and were eager for the encounter. But still, as in former cases, the Roman arms and discipline, hacked as they were on this occasion by superiority of numbers, gained the vic- tory. The river in front of the Britons was forded ; the rude ramparts were thrown down or scaled ; after which it was a hopeless struggle between loose groups of bar- barians against dense, well-arrayed ranks, and naked breasts against bodies covered with mail. All that brave men could do was done by the Britons ; but they were broken, and routed with great slaughter. Caractacus, baffled but still unsubdued, escaped the carnage, and in the hope of renewing the war, as he had often done after defeat, he fled for temporary refuge to his step- mother, Cartismandua, queen of the Brigantes ; but that faithless woman caused him to be put in chains, and delivered up to the enemy. He was sent to Rome a prisoner, to abide the award of Claudius, with his wife, daughter, and brothers, who had been taken after the battle. If any thing could have soothed the wounded feelings of the hero, and softened the sense of his disasters, it must have been the sensation of popular triumph which his arrival at Rome occasioned. Not only the millions of the vast metropolis, but crowds from every part of Italy were assembled, to gaze upon the far-famed captive who had so long defied their power. As for Caractacus, he moved as proudly along in his fetters as if he had been still at the head of his troops ; and while the splen- did buildings of the city every where met his eye, he could not help exclaiming, ' Alas ! could a people who inhabit such palaces, envy Caractacus a hut in Britain?' Before the tribunal of the emperor, he displayed the same unbroken dignity, employing neither supplications nor tears, but justifying the part he had taken, and the deeds he had wrought against the Romans. It is gra- tifying to be able to add, that the loftiness of true worth prevailed with those who had hitherto been deaf to the weeping entreaties of so many captive kings. His chains were struck off, his kindred were set free, and he was dismissed as the friend of Rome. As if afraid of destroying the dramatic effect of such an incident, the historians have ended the narrative at this point — so that we learn nothing farther of the deeds of Caractacus. CONQUEST OF AXGLESEA. 15 Although this dreaded enemy had been defeated, the Romans were still far from eflecting the subjugation of the brave Silures. On the contrary, this tiibe assumed the ag-giessive, routed the Roman detachments in seve- ral sangaiinary skirmishes, and prevented their country from being bridled by a line of fortresses, as had been the case with the other districts. Such indeed was the obstinacy and success of tlieir resistance, that the dreaded Ostorius expired through fatigue and disap- pointment. The progress of conquest in Bintain was so slow, also, under the immediate successors of Ostorius, that Nero, who succeeded Claudius, had at one time determined to abandon the attempt as hopeless, and recall the troops to Italy. Having however invested Suetonius Paulinus with the chief command, that distin- guished officer arrived in Britain in the year 59, and quickly changed the character of the warfare. We have already mentioned, that the Gauls had been chiefly stimulated in their resistance to Rome by Druidism, of which religious system Britain had been the principal seat ; in like manner, the British tribes were combined and animated against the enemy by their own Druidi,, whose most sacred residence and chief college was Mona, or the island of Anglesey. The destruction there- fore of the holy island would strike a mortal blow at the very heart of British independence, which could scarcely be expected to survive the ruin of its gods, and its priests ; and upon this principle Suetonius turned his chief attention to the conquest of Anglesey. Flat-bot- tomed boats were provided for transporting the foot over the narrow strait of the Menai, while the cavalry could easily cross by fording and swimming. But in spite of these facilities, the exploit was attended with fearful terrors. It was not because the island was manned by bold refugees from every tribe, who were ready to die in defence of their altars. The Roman soldiers, who were eager to march against any enemies of mere flesh and blood, were not brave enough to en- counter phantoms; and awful tales had been circulated among them of the supernatural powers of the Druids. The spectacle which the island also presented, as the Romans stood on the opposite shore, seemed to give countenance to their wildest fears. Women ran to and fro upon the sacred strand, in dismal dresses, with 16 MILIIARY HISTORY. dishevelled hair and lighted torches; the priests, in their white robes, stretched their arms to heaven with horrid incantations, devoting their enemies to ruin ; and in the back-ground, the dim woods, the abodes of unutter- able mystery, were lit at intervals with those sacrificial fires in which the Romans, who should be taken pri- soners, were to be consumed. The legionaries were frozen at the spectacle : every hearty for the moment, was as powerless as infancy. At last, the stern, re- proachful voice of their commander roused them from this trance, by upbraiding them for their fears of mad women, and unarmed priests ; upon which the soldiers rushed forward in desperation to this new and strange encounter. The clash of arms, and their struggle with the island defenders, soon restored their wonted cou- rage ; and as they fought, they found that neither awful foi-ms nor destroying lightnings came from heaven, to protect the sacred territory. The armed Britons, the Druids, the priestesses, were cut down with the sword, or thrown into the flames which they had kindled for the conquerors; the forests were felled, and the island was occupied by a garrison. Never, perhaps, on any former occasion had the legionaries contemplated their own prowess with such complacency, as when they were e«nployed in cutting down the consecrated trees of Anglesey, and converting its dreaded recesses into com- mon military stations. The work of Roman conquest in Britain, so far from being ended, had as yet but comparatively commenced. The invaders had planted a few colonies in the island, a portion of which was either in subjection or alliance ; and the suppression of Druidism, by the capture of Anglesey, although it promised final success, made an immediate reaction to be apprehended, on account of the devotedness of the Britons to their national priest- hood. But such prudential calculations, so common in the discreet days of Roman republicanism, were lost sight of under the imperial government, when conquest was regarded chiefly for its fruits of licence and pillage. Swarms of tax-gatherers, and needy adventurers, took, possession therefore of those lands which the legions had subdued ; and the high-spirited natives, after being subjected to all the insolence of military conquerors, were plundered aud enslaved by despicable usurers. IIOADICCA. 17 This premature arrogaiice and oppression had, for its natural result, the Boadicean war, in which the grasping Romans had nearly lost the whole of their conquests in Britain at a single blow. BOADICEA. This terrible revolt is said to have originated in the following circumstances, which have an air of great probabilit}'. Prasutagus, king of the Iceni (Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridgeshire), conscious at his death of the ascendancy of the victors in that part of the island, as well as the helplessness of his family, conceived that he could propitiate the former, and ensure the safety of the latter, by a voluntary surrender of part of his ter- ritory to the Romans ; on which account, he made them his heirs, conjointly with his wife and daughters. But this, instead of proving the protection, was only the ruin of his family and people. The Romans, not content with a portion, were determined to have all : they there- fore took possession of his goods and kingdom, and pro- ceeded to tyrannise at will ; and when queen Boadicea remonstrated with the officers upon this injustice, she was ignominiously scourged with rods, and her daughters were violated in her presence. This flagrant outrage was intolerable in the eyes of a people still smarting under numerous injuries ; it was peculiarly so to Britons, who were famed for their respectful devotedness to women, and the readiness with which they obeyed them, whether as priestesses or queens ; and the in- dignant representations of Boadicea, with her energy of character, rallied the dispersed tribes, and drew them into a closer union than ever. The moment, too, was favourable for the revolt. Suetonius was still employed with the chief strength of the army in Anglesey, while the colonised districts, instead of being bristled with ramparts, wtre tinselled with luxurious baths and pa- laces. It was in the midst of this vain security that the explosion occurred: the colony of Camolodanum was attacked, and overwhelmed, while a legion that at- tempted to defend it, was annihilated ; after which, the immense throng of insurgents rushed onward towards London, at this time a principal settlement of the Ro- mans, and distinguished for extent and wealth. Sueto- itius, on the first tidings of insurrection, hurried from 18 MILITARY HISTORY. Anglesey, and pressed forward to the defence of London ; but finding bis force inadequate for the protection of so large a town, he resolved to evacuate it. The miserable inhabitants implored him to remain, but in vain ; all he could do, was to permit such of them as were able, to accompany the retreat of his soldiers. Scarcely had his army cleared the town at one extremity, than the Britons appeared at the other, and after meeting with little resistance, such of the citizens as remained were massacred without mercy. The next burst of the tem- pest was upon Verulamium (St. Alban's), which shared the same fate. It seemed as if every injury endured from the Romans since the landing of Csesar was now re- membered, and revenged to the full. The mere death of the colonists was too little to satiate the Britons upon this terrible occasion ; and tortures and the cross were inflicted upon those victims who had unfortunately escaped the sword. Seventy thousand Romans and Roman allies perished in this frightful massacre. In the mean time Suetonius, who had now mustered 10,000 veterans, resolved to make a stand: the experi- ment seemed desperate, but the very existence of Rome in Britain was now at stake, and not mere victory or conquest. He selected his ground with consummate skill, and calmly awaited the coming of the enemy. The number of the insurgents has been rated at hundreds of thousands; but although this amount may be ex- aggerated, it must still be remembered that they con- sisted, not of an army, but a nation — men, women, and children, bound together by a common feeling, and incited by a universal impulse. Before the battle, Boadicea, mounted in her war-chariot, and with her injured daughters seated at her feet, drove through the British ranks, to animate her followers. Her appear- ance on this occasion, as described by the Roman his- torians, was like a personification of barbaric heroism — a Bellona of the ancient Britons. Her stately figure was clothed in a plaited tunic of various colours, over ■which was thrown a long mantle ; a chain of gold sur rounded her waist, while her long, yellow hair streamed to her feet. She harangued the troops upon the wrongs she had suffered, and entreated them to revenge her; and upon the slavery of their country, and besought them to free it; and by a practical figm-e of speech. BOADICEA. 19 cotamon among rude tribes, she let slip a live hare, which she had concealed in her robe, and exclaimed, • That in like manner the enemy would fly before them.' But this aug-ury was not fated to be fulfilled. The myriads, who charged at her signal, and rushed boldly upon the opposite swords, were, compared with the enemy, a mere mob; their attacks were the impulses of blind fury, and, when driven back, they were en- tangled among the lanes of cars and waggons, which they had drawn up for their defence, in the rear. The Roman Teterans, after they had sustained the first shock of onset, easily succeeded in breaking the foremost ranks of the Britons, after which, their only work was an unresisted massacre among a confused and encum- bered crowd. On this occasion, the debt of vengeance was not forgot; 80,000 Britons, men, women, and child- len, were slaughtered without regard to age or sex ; and Boadicea, unable to survive her defeat, though she had escaped the carnage, drank poison, and ex- pired (a.d. 61). This terrible overthrow of the tribes, although A. D. followed by famine and pestilence, was still in- 78- sufficient to break the spirit, or subdue the resist- ance, of the Britons ; and for several years after, the progress of Roman conquest was almost stationary, until the arrival of Agidcola in Britain. This, the most illustrious and the best of Roman governors, added to high talents in war a thorough acquaintanceship with the militai-y tactics and manners of the Britons; and besides, he was just, humane, and conciliating — qualities which the natives had not as yet found in his predeces- sors. These were more available for the work of con- quest than the sword, and therefore his progress was an uninterrupted course of success. Those tribes that were successively subdued by his victories learned to endure his easy yoke, to which they were perhaps the more readily induced, from the dissensions that had generally prevailed among their native rulers. Agricola soon per- suaded the people to forsake their unsettled life for the security of cities, to build commodious houses, and adopt the domestic comforts that were in use among the Ro- mans. They also assumed the dress, and began to study the language and the sciences, of the conquerors ; and having thus acquired a taste for civilization, they gra- 20 MILITARY HISTORY, dually lost the ancient characteristics of their race, and became to all intents Roman provincials. It was by this wise policy, after so much hazardous and ineffective ■warfare, that the subjug^ation of Britain was accom- plished. Succeeding governors found it easy to carry on the system which had been thus happily commenced, and a verj' few generations sufficed wholly to revolu- tionise the external appearance, as well as the internal character, of the province. This subject, however, be- longs rather to the political and intellectual history of Britain; the military department is chiefly occupied, from this period, with the attempts of the Romans to subjugate the tribes of the north, and the subsequent invasions of the northern population upon the Britons of the province. The sagacious eye of Agricola soon perceived that, in order to secure the conquest and civilization of the southern part of the island, it was necessary either to subdue the northern department also, or at least to iso- late its wild inhabitants entirely fi-om the natives of the south. In his third British campaign, therefore (a.u. 80), he entered Caledonia ; and as no enemy appeared iu the field, he was enabled to penetrate, without molesta- tion, as far as the river Tay. The Caledonians, who were to the full as fierce, as brave, and as strongly de- voted to freedom as the tribes of the south had been, possessed the additional advantages of rugged moun- tains that could defy an enemy, as well as barren plains that could starve him out; and in this confidence they had retired, imagining that the invasion could only be temporai-y. But in this calculation, they had not reckoned on the resources of the Roman general. He built forts upon the ground he had secured, stored them with provisions for the winter, and garrisoned them with soldiers. With each spring, he reappeared upon the field, advanced in the same cautious manner, and enclosed his conquests by new defences, so that in A.D. 81, he had built a line of forts across the narrow neck of land that separates the Frith of Forth from that of the Clyde ; and on the two following summers he still continued his march, having a large fleet, that alternately transported his land forces, and co-operated with their movements on shore. The Caledonians in the mean time had made desperate efforts to destroy GALGACUS. 21 these obnoxious fortresses, but in vain: at the end of each campaign they found themselves driven farther off from their former boundaries, and still nearer to the sea, which could be commanded at any time by the Roman fleet. Even in this extremity, however, they were not dismayed. Like lions at bay, they turned upon the enclosing lines of the hunters, and as the Roman army was divided into several parties, the Caledonians united their forces, with the intention of falling upon each successively. On one occasion, they made a des- perate attack, during the night, upon the ninth legion in its fortified camp, and would have cut it in pieces lit for the opportune arrival of Agricola. GALGACUS. These, however, were but preludes to a greater and more general movement. The Caledonian tribes having entered into an alliance with each .other against the enemy, and confirmed it by the most solemn sacrifices, elected for their chief leader the celebrated Galgacus, renowned as the most warlike of their chieftains. Thirty thousand warriors, including many young men who carried arms for the first time, and many worn-out veterans who resumed their swords upon this great occasion, followed the banner of Galgacus. With these, he encamped upon the skirts of the Grampian hills (probably at the place now called Fortiugall), having selected his station and made his arrangements with great military skill. The army of the Caledonians was not only inferior in point of numbers to that of the Romans, but was as rudely armed as the forces of the south in the days of Cassi- vellanus : the rattle-headed lance, the brittle and un- wieldy broad-sword, the basket-plated target, and the hooked chariot, seem to have constituted their whole military equipments. The Romans, besides their well- appointed legions, had troops of barbarian auxiliaries from Holland and Belgium, and several bodies of pro- vincial Britons, who, like all enslaved people, were now ready to fight gallantly to reduce others to the same con- dition. On the approach of the enemy, Galgacus drove through the ranks of the confederates, exhorting them to fight bravely ; and although we cannot bring ourselves to suppose that he uttered, upon this occasion, the elo- quent harangue which Tacitus has translated into such 22 MILITARY HISTORY. majestic Latin, his exhortations were no doubt as much to the point, and better understood. His speech was answered with song-s of triumph and loud outcries of heroic eagerness. In the mean time, Agricola had prepared for victory by such measures as could best secure it. His centre was composed, not of legionary soldiers, as in usual cases, but of auxiliai-ies, who were best fitted to engage on uneven ground, and these were flanked on the wings by cavalry: the legions were drawn up in a second line, in the rear, where they could support the front, if it should be repulsed. The battle commenced by discharges of missiles, in which the Caledonians had the advantage, as they warded oil' the spears of the enemy with their little round targets, and discharged their own with great vigour and effect. Upon this, Agricola bi'ought up five cohorts of Batavians and Tungrians to encounter the enemy hand to hand; and here the clumsy swords of the Caledonians were most unfit for the close melee that followed : the other auxiliaries soon rushed in, and bore down all before them with their massive, spiked bucklers and short, stabbing swords. At the same instant, the Caledonian war-chariots increased the confusion beyond remedy; for the horses, being maddened by the unusual din, turned back, galloped through their own ranks, and overturned every thing in their way. In the midst of this wild disorder, the battle was almost retrieved by a large body of Caledonians stationed on the summit of the hill. When they saw the distress of their countrymen beneath, tbey fetched a compass, and stealthily de- scended, with the design of falling upon the rear of the pursuers ; but the design was discovered and discon- certed by Agricola, who attacked and defeated them ■with his reserves of cavalry. The Caledonians even yet attempted to rally upon the skirts of the neighbouring woods; and, wheeling suddenly about, they assailed the eager victors, and threw them into temporary disorder. But the arrival of Agricola again turned the scale. He rallied his forces, and directed them to continue the pursuit only in large bodies; upon which the Caledoni- ans dispersed so completely, that two men could scarcely be found together. Nothing could exceed their anguish and despair after this signal defeat. They burnt their houses to the ground, and slew their wives and children, INVASION OF CALEDONIA. 23 that they might not fall into the hands of the Romans; so that, on the next day, when Agricola sent his scouts to explore the country, they could descry nothing but burning huts, and the silence of a universal desolation. From this moment, the brave Galgacus, like the other British heroes, disappears from the scene. The Roman historians of the period seem to have thought that a hero in defeat and adversity was either unworthy of farther notice, or that dramatic effect would be violated by his re-appearance upon the stage. Although the victory of Agricola was very far from compelling the submission of the Caledonians, yet the dread it inspired, and the line of fortresses he had erected, prevented, in all likelihood, an inroad of the tribes into the south for many years. But, in the reign of Hadrian, this line was stormed and demolished, and the Caledonians recovered all the territory that had been wrested from them north of the Tyue and Solway. In consequence of this, Hadrian raised a new and stronger rampart (a. d. 121) between the Solway Frith and the German Ocean, which he resolved should be the modest limit of his South-British province. But, in consequence of the incursions of the northern bar- barians, LoUius Urbicus, after di-iving them back, re- sumed the old line of Agricola, where he dug a deep trench, and constructed a wall of earth raised upon a stone foundation, extending about thirty-one miles, and fortified with towers at proper intervals. This building, which was finished about a. d. 140, is still popularly re- membered as Graeme's Dyke. But even this barrier was insufficient to shut out the enemy : they broke through it, and ravaged the whole counti-y that lay between it and the wall of Hadrian. At length (a.d. 207), the emperor Severus, although afflicted with the gout and enfeebled by old age, resolved to subdue these northern enemies in one decisive campaign. He therefore marched a vei-y numerous army to the provincial frontier ; but, after entering the enemy's territories, he found that to subdue the country was very different from merely con- quering the inhabitants. He proceeded, however, to the work with his characteristic ardour : morasses were drained, forests were levelled, bridges were raised, and military roads constructed, and in these laborious works the soldiers were so completely exhausted, that many in 24 MILITARY HISTORY. despair fell upon theii- own swords. Rut the indomitable old man persevered in cutting and clearing his way through every obstacle, until he advanced as far as the narrow promontory that separates the Murray and Cro- marty Friths, although with a loss of 50,000 men in this fierce warfare against Nature's bulwarks and defences ; upon which, the Caledonians, dismayed at such merciless resolution, made humble supplications for peace. As it was impossible to maintain an army among such sterile deserts, he soon retraced his steps to the south ; after which, he determined to limit the boundary of the pro- vince to Hadrian's wall, that was to be superseded by one of much stronger materials. This work, in which the soldiers and the Britons were employed for two years, was worthy of the Roman genius and grandeur. The wall was twelve feet high to the base of the battlements, and eight feet thick, and defended not only by towns or military stations, but by eighty-one castles and three hundred and thirty small towers ; while the ditch that interposed between it and the north was thirty-six feet wide and above twelve feet deep. He also constructed roads that led from turret to turret and from castle to castle, besides larger ones that communicated from one station to another; and an alarm-fire, kindled at any one point, could in a short time be communicated from bulwark to bulwark along the whole line of fortification. Such vast defences, garrisoned by numerous armies of Romans and provincials, were for many years an effectual check upon the Caledonians ; but, in process of time, new and more terrible enemies appeared for the de- struction of the South-Britons. These were the Scots, who, having emigrated from Ireland (the Scotland of these ages) to Caledonia, drove the clans before them towards the south, like tempestuous waves, and then entered in their wake ; and the dreaded Saxon pirates, ■who launched their frail skiffs from the German and Danish shores, and assailed the provincial towns upon the coast. As these dangers and enemies continued to increase, the Romans and provincials were every year becoming more unfitted for defence. The legions, now the mere phantoms of those who had conquered the world, were a tumultuary throng, more prompt to turn their swords upon their officers than the enemy; and as for the Britons, having no national liberty for which to INCURSIONS OF THE PICTS AND SCOTS. 25 contend, it mattered little to them whether Roman or barbarian should prevail. At length, in a. d. 364, the Scots and Picts burst through the wall of Severus, making great havoc among its defenders ; and three years after, they stoi-med and plundered the city of London, and carried oflF its inhabitants into slavery. la the midst of these national calamities, the bravest of the British youths, instead of being left for the defence of their own soil, were transported to Italy, to swell the ranks and fight the battles of imperial usurpers. The Roman army in Britain also had been gradually re- duced, until at length, in a. d. 409, the remaining legions were recalled by the emperor Honorius for the protection of Italy. In this defenceless state the province was left to the depredations of the Saxon pirates and the incur- sions of the savage Scots and Picts. The Britons were obliged to assemble in arms, and after having repelled the invaders, they declared themselves independent; but so completely had the national spirit been destroyed during the four centuries of Roman sway, that they were unable to maintain that independence. The emperor even discharged them from their allegiance, and en- couraged them to provide for their own defence; and although himself opposed by more formidable enemies than either Scots or Picts, he sent them two legions, at different times, by which they were enabled to beat back their invaders. The Romans acted in the most friendly manner towards the Britons ; and Gallio of Ravenna, the last of their commanders, not only as- sisted in repairing the wall of Severus, but instructed them in the art of war and in the manufacture of arms, previous to withdrawing the last Roman legion. After telling them that they must expect no further aid from Rome, he crossed over to the opposite coast in the year 426. When the departure of the Roman legion became known to the Scots and Picts, they landed in swarms from their leather boats, and committed greater ravages than ever, destroying all with fire and sword. Their suc- cess encouraged them to open a way into the country by laud ; they surmounted the ditch and scaled the wall of Severus at every point; and spreading themselves over tlie country, they ravaged it almost without opposition. As if even this had not been enough to produce unaui- C 26 MILITARY HISTORY. mity, the miserable Britons were not only divided into two great political parties, where Romans and natives were contending for pre-eminence, but split into religious factious, that debated with each other on points of orthodoxy, while a fierce enemy was advancing against their very churches with torch and sword. Only one thing was done in this tenible crisis — and that was merely to implore help from Rome ; and their last appeal to iEtius, thrice consul, — and piteously entitled the ' Groans of the Britons,' — explained in expressive terms the completeness of their misery. * The barbarians,' they said, 'chase us into the sea; the sea throws us back upon the barbarians ; and we have only the hard choice left us, of perishing by the sword, or by the waves.' But this address was in vain ; for Rome herself was awaiting her fall from the advance of Attila. At length, a desperate remedy was adopted by the Britons; that of hiring barbarians to defend them against bar- barians — the same fatal policy which the Romans adopted in their decline, and through which they fell. The ex- treme national weakness of the Britons at this time can only be accounted for upon the supposition that the long security which the nation had enjoyed had extinguished their martial character, and promoted the same cor- ruption and efteminacy of manners which led to the conquest of other provinces of the empire. Various chiefs or princes had been elected kings during the forty years (409 — 449) from their assumption of in- dependence until the calling in of the Saxons ; but these were deposed in succession, as unequal to their station. On the report that a fresh invasion was to be expected from the Scots, Vortigern, who was then king, recommended an alliance with the Saxon pirates, to assist against the Scots and Picts; and in A. D. 449, the application was made. Three long keels, or ships, under the command of Hengist and Horsa, were at this time cruising in the British chan- nel; and on receiving the invitation, these celebrated chiefs gladly agreed to become the military stipendiaries of the Britons. They were in quest of plunder, and to them it mattered little from what quarter it came. They little thought, as they turned their prows to the shore, what an empire they were going to found, and of what a dynasty they were to become the ancestors. TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST. 27 CHAP. II. From the arrival of the Saxons in England to the Norman Conquest. Although the Teutonic race, who were now to super- sede the ancient Britons, and become the fathers of the fZnglish, are classed under the general name of Saxons, yet the people to whom this term properly belonged formed only a part of the invaders. There were three separate tribes by whom South Britain was conquered and colonized ; of these the Jutes and Angles were the inhabitants of the peninsula of Jutland, and part of Schlesswig, while the Saxons proper, who gave their name to the whole people, occupied a tract of country extending from the Weser to the Delta of the Rhine. The first of the invaders who arrived under Hengist and Horsa were Jutes, although the Angles had subsequently the distinction of confen-ing their name upon the coun- try. In Holstein, there is a district still called Anglen, the primitive England, from which the Angles emi- grated. These tribes were families of the great Scythian race, who, in some very remote political convulsion, had been driven, or induced to emigrate, from their Asiatic home on the shores of the Caspian sea, and in the course of years or ages, after a variety of fortunes, had at last obtained settlements on the Baltic and the Rhine. When the Saxons first emerged into public notice, it was in the character of pirates. The sterility of the country they occupied, and their command of sea-coast, naturally suggested to a barbarous and warlike race such a course of naval enterprise ; and piracy, in their hands, quickly became a national occupation, as well as the chief means of subsistence. During the first four centuries of our era, whole swarms of their frail barks, or canoes, composed of a light frame-work of timber, surmounted with oziers, and covered with skins, braved the storms of the Baltic and the German ocean, swept the coasts of Gaul and Britain, and filled even the heart of Rome itself with dismay. In the course of these adven- tures also, the Saxons not only acquired the wealth they coveted, but also nautical skill and hardihood, good 28 MILITARY HISTORY. weapons, and military science. It was their custom to laimch their fleets upon the ocean when other ships were drawn up upon the shore ; the stoi-m and the tempest were their signals for attack, because it was then that they found their victims unguarded, as well as retreat more easy if they happened to be overpowered ; and for land encounter, they seem to have been as well armed as the Roman legions themselves. But their favou- rite weapon was the ponderous battle-axe, which they wielded with both hands, and with a vigour that no armour could resist. The religion also of the Saxons was well fitted to cherish this love of violence and bloodshed, as it was a system of ferocious precepts, and sanguinary rites. Had the Britons but reflected for a moment, they might have seen that a people of such a bloody faith would, at the best, be very doubtful allies to any Chris- tian nation ; but the urgency of the danger had swal- lowed up every other thought. They only felt that they were perishing ; and in the absence of the Romans, their former protectors, they thought that the brave Saxons could best defend them. Hengist and Horsa appear, in the first instance, to have served their new employers with fidelity. At the head of their followers, and with the aid of the British troops, they successfully drove back the Picts and the Scots into their own country. This object being ac- complished, they soon appear to have contemplated a permanent settlement. But they were obliged to go warily to work, as their handful of Jutes was too weak to gain possession by the sword ; and in the fol- lowing year they obtained a reinforcement of Saxons, Danes, and Angles, who arrived in sixteen large ships, and with them came Rowena, the beautiful daughter of Horsa. Hengist conceived that a matrimonial alliance with the sovereign was the most natural plan he could adopt to promote his views, and accordingly he invited Vortigern and his nobles to a banquet, in his castle at Thong-caster; and in the midst of the feast, his niece, the beautiful and fair-haired Rowena, entered the hall, and gracefully presented upon her knee a flagon to the ad- miring king, with the northern salutAtion, Liever kyning, tt'ttss hael (Dear kin«f, yonr health). Wine and beauty had their natural effect upon the luxurious monarch. He sought and obtained the fair cup-bearer for his wife ; TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST. 29 and in consideration of this event, her father Hoi-sa was invested with the lordship of Kent and Thanet, which he forthwith proceeded to fortify. Having thus secured a maritime territory, it was easy to persuade the indo- lent Britons that more troops were necessary for their defence; and on permission being granted, large rein- forcements arrived in the two following years to join their countrymen, and, among others, a third brother Octa, and Ebusa the son of Hengist. The pirate now possessed the door of the kingdom, by which his coun- trymen could enter at pleasure, and the Saxons, to facili- tate their plans of conquest, entered into an alliance with the Scots and Picts whom they had been hired to de- stroy. The distracted Britons had thus at one and the same time their ancient enemies without, and a per- fidious foe within the kingdom, and were obliged to rouse themselves with the courage of despair. Several battles followed, the results of which are uncertain ; after which we are informed that an event took place, of a nature too common in such kinds of warfare. A hollow truce or peace was ratified, and the chiefs of the Britons and Saxons were assembled at a feast, when Hengist, in the midst of it, suddenly exclaimed, Nimed eure Seaxas (Draw your swords) ; upon which his followers started up, plucked out the short swords or daggers which they carried concealed in their hose, and slew all the British nobles upon the spot. This bloody banquet is said to have taken place at Stonehenge, on the 1st of May, 476. That such an event happened is certain, from the concurring testimony of several traditions ; but it has been suspected by an able writer that the Saxons, in- stead of being the plotters, were the intended victims, and that they slew the other party in self-defeuce. Even this fatal loss, however, does not appear to have dbmayed the Britons, and becoming wiser from misfor- tune, they united with the Roman faction against the common enemy. On this account the conquest of the country was a work of time, as well as labour, and many a fierce invader bit the dust before a single king- dom of the Heptarchy was established. But the Saxons were reinforced more rapidly than they were destroyed, and the great northern store-house of men poured forth its successive multitudes in such abundance, that the conquest of Britain though slow, wus inevitable. The 30 MILITARY HISTORY. historical traditions of the various hattles that were fought are so obscure, as to be unworthy of notice, a proof of which may be found in the legends about king Arthur, who is represented as every where victorious and irresistible, even while the Saxons must have been spoiling him of his kingdom, step by step. We shall content ourselves therefore with merely stating the re- sults of these conflicts in the successive settlements of the Saxon tribes on the conquered portions of the Bri- tish soil. The first kingdom which the invaders established was that of Kent, or Cantwara-land. This rich province was the mark of Hengist's ambition ; but its resistance was so obstinate, that the conquest was not accomplished till some years after his death by his son Eric, at the head of the Jutes, and some Angles. Those who were pro- perly called Saxons invaded Sussex, a. D. 477, under their leader Ella, and after several victories drove out the natives, and founded the kingdom of the South Saxons. In 495, another band of the same tribe, under the command of Cerdic, conquered Hampshire and the Isle of Wight, and founded the kingdom of Wes- sex, or the West Saxons, from whom descended the kings of England, in the male line to Edward the Con- fessor, and in the female line to the present family. The state of the East Saxons was formed by Ei-cenwine, who, about the year 527, took possession of the flats of Essex, and a portion of the neighbouring country. The ample territory lying between the Tees and the Tyne, which at that time was a barren uninhabited country, overrun by wild beasts, was next won, and established as the kingdom of Beruicia ; Deira followed next, lying be- tween the Tees and the H umber, and which was con- quered after several years of hard conflict. About the end of the sixth century, a powerful band of warrior- emigrants from Anglen, in two divisions, under the names of the North-folk and the South-folk, invaded the counties to which they afterwards gave their desig- nations, and formed of them the kingdom of East Anglia ; while other droves of Angles conquered and established the powerful kingdom of Myrcna-ric, or Mercia. Such is a very brief summary of the conquest and occupation of England, a work of time and labour, as well as fre- quent defeat — so that Cornwall, the last acquisition of TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST. 31 tlie Saxons, was not even nominally reduced till a.d. 647, or two centuries after the landing of Hengist and Horsa. And what became of the unfortunate Britons who thus ceased to be a nation, or to hold a separate exist- ence? Some have laboured to prove that they must have been utterly extirpated ; but the Britons, although weak enough, as we have seen, could not be annihilated so easily. Others have recognised them as a separate people in the principality of Wales ; but the Welsh are not Celts ; they are the descendants of a dift'erent race from those who fought under Cassivellanus and Vortimer, and it has been successfully shewn of late that they are rather the descendants of the Picts than the Britons of the south. For the refugees from the Saxon swords we must look to Armorica (Bretagne), to which multitudes of the Britons betook themselves for shelter, or to Devon- shire and Cornwall, where the conquest was little more than nominal. But we shall be most correct in sup- posing, that by far the greater part of the vanquished assumed in course of time the language, dress, and habits of the conquerors, became their serfs or servants, and were finally absorbed into the general population, which they might tend to improve by their superior knowledge and refinement. To this circumstance also we may perhaps trace the readiness with which the victors laid aside their unsettled habits, and became in- dustrious cultivators of the soil they had won, as well as the alacrity with which they became Christians on the arrival of Saint Augustine — two important changes which occurred to the Saxons while the work of conquest and occupation was still pending. The slowness of the Saxon conquest, to which we have already adverted, was not wholly owing to the resistance of the natives. A still stronger counteracting principle is to be found in the disunion of the conquerors them- selves. The Saxon chiefs acted without mutual concert ; each selected his portion, and won it with his own good sword ; and as independent kings thus continued to multiply, causes of rivalry and contention arose, that soon set kingdom against kingdom. Thus, during the two centuries in w'hich the conquest was proceeding, the infant states of the Heptarchy were warring as fiercely with each other as with the common enemy. Even the introduction of Christianity, at first, increased this prin- 32 MILITARY HISTORY. ciple of dissension, by arraying the heathen Saxons against their converted brethren. It could not be ex- pected that these grounds of quarrel would be dimi- nished after the Britons were wholly subdued; and, therefore, the history of the Heptarchy, subsequent to this period, is a sickening record of the wars of one state against another. Into these it is unnecessary to enter ; their consequences, however, were that the smaller states of Sussex, Essex, Kent, and East Anglia, were swal- lowed up by the other powers in the latter part of the seventh century, and the contest was thus simplified be- tween the three great kingdoms of Northumbria, Mercia, and Wessex. Of these, Northumbria and Mercia, being irreconcilable rivals, wasted each other in sanguinary conflicts ; and the former, independently of its antagonist, was also ravaged by the fearful inroads of the Scots and Picts. A melancholy picture of the state of England at this time may be formed from the fate of fourteen Northumbrian kings, during the course of a single cen- tury. Of these, six were slaughtered by their relatives or competitors, and five were deposed by their subjects ; two shaved their heads and retired to a cloister, and only one died a king. Happily, however, for the existence of the English, as a people, this principle of national dissolution was soon destroyed, by the union of the kingdoms under one head. Wessex, in the course of its manifold mutation, had two pretenders to the crown ; and Egbert, one of the claim- ants, being defeated, was glad to flee to the court of Charlemagne, where he found a cordial welcome. The young English prince remained in this exile fourteen years, during which he acquired those high accomplish- ments that afterwards distinguished him as a soldier and statesman ; and on the death of Brihtric, his successful rival, he returned to Wessex, where he was received with universal welcome. He was soon attacked by the Mercians, whom he signally defeated ; after which he annexed the whole kingdom of Mercia to his own dominions. He then invaded Northumbria, at this time helpless from the anarchy into which it had fallen ; and in a short time the inhabitants were glad to become his vassals. This event happened a.d. 825, and the sway of Egbert, generally speaking, extended from the extremity of Cornwall to the shores of the British channel and the TO THE NORMAN CONQUEST. 33 river Tweed. It was in a happy hour for England that this union of the kingdoms took place, for now a new enemy appeared, to task the united energy of the coun- try. These were the Danes, whose first visit to England is said to have been made about the end of the eighth century. Their landing was in Mercia, and they con- sisted of only a few ships' crews, that were easily driven from the coast ; but this event was the prelude of more terrible visitations. They landed again, a.d. 832, in the isle of Sheppey, which they plundered, and then with- drew. On the following year, they returned in greater numbers ; and although they -were driven at last to their ships by Egbert, it was after having given such proofs of their valour as dismayed the English. Their perti- nacity was equal to their valour; for having formed an alliance with the Britons of Cornwall, by whom they were reinforced, they advanced (a. d. 834) as far as Hengsdown hill ; but here they were met by Egbert, and routed with great slaughter. This brave monarch died soon after, and the Danes renewed their visits : they sailed up the Thames and the Medway, and plundered the rich cities of London, Rochester, and Canterbury. The English had again become disunited after the death of Egbert, hut their Danish visitors taught them wisdom ; they therefore combined their efforts, and after inflicting several sanguinary repulses, they succeeded in driving out the marauders for a short period. Such, however, was the ferocious bravery of the Danes, and their un- sparing havoc, that, under the apprehension of their return, the Wednesday of every week was appointed as a day of prayer throughout England, that the nation might deprecate the judgment of a Danish invasion. This people, who now occupied so important a part in English history, were to the ninth century what the Saxons had been to the fourth — the great pirates against all nations, and the dread and curse of every shore. But a closer resemblance still existed between the Saxons and the Danes : both were of the same Teutonic race, and spoke the same tongue ; even the country from which they issued was the same, as the latter seem to have only occupied the void produced by the emigration of the former. Such considerations of relationship, how- ever, could not move a Dane, so long as the English possessed such herds of fat beeves and masses of tenipt- C 2 *^4 MILITARY HISTORY. iug gold. Independently of this, the Saxons had aban- doned their northern faith for Christianity— a religion which the Danes mortally hated, on account of the perse- cutions of Charlemagne, who had endeavoured to con- vert them with fire and sword ; and hence the double fury with which they wasted every country in which the cross was planted, and the unsparing havoc they wrought upon churches and monasteries. In personal bravery, the Danes were fully equal to the bravest of those tribes who effected the downfal of Rome ; while in military skill and equipments they were much superior. Their hands were trained to arms from the age of tender infancy ; every warrior was taught to handle the oar as skilfully as the sword ; and after surmounting the storms of the ocean, with which they sported in full consciousness of superiority, every sailor, on landing, was ready for the duties of a well-practised soldier, whether on horseback or on foot. For active conflict they had every kind of armour, while their favourite weapons for close tight were the doublebladed battle- axe and a ponderous iron-headed sledge-hammer, bor- rowed from their stormy god Thor, and which afterwards became the mace of northern chivalry ; and in defensive warfare they displayed such labour and skill in erecting fortifications and securing a camp, as could only be pa- ralleled in the wars of the Roman legions. The religion of such a people was fitted to their character, being of a darker and sterner cast than that of the other northern tribes, so that their heaven was a very shambles of massacre, and only to be attained by wading through a sea of blood ; and such were even their amusements, that one of them consisted in tossing the infants of their enemies into the air, and catching them on the points of their spears. The Danish kings and nobles of the land, after providing for their immediate successors, taught the younger branches of the family that their only in- heritance was to be foujid in the ocean ; and after pro- viding them with a fleet, or a single ship, they thrust them forth in quest of fortune or a grave, in either of which cases their destiny was fulfilled. Thus the north- ern seas, and their numerous bays and concealments, swarmed with Vikingr and Jarls, like the Asiatic deserts with the marauding children of Ishmael ; and, like the Arabs, their hand was against every man, and every ALFRED THE GREAT. 35 man's hand was against them. Their only home was the hostile shore that held out the fairest prospect of plunder ; and their wealth was contained in every casket which their swords could unclasp or their axes burst asunder. ALFRED THE GREAT. Such were the enemies who called the full energies of Alfred into existence, and but for whom England would have been undone in its infancy. He was the son of Ethelwulf, and was born a.d. 84!). being the youngest of four sons. His father Ethelwulf, the son and successor of Esrbert, was desirous, according to a fashion among English kings, to make a pilgrimage to Rome ; and he took with him Alfred, the Benjamin of his old age, in the year 853, and a second time in 856. Here he tarried nearly a year; and it is not impossible that even at this tender age the mind of the boy received its 6rst impulses from the grandeur of the Eternal City, and the intel- lectual character of its society. Here also the pope anointed him with the holy oil that was kept only for royal purposes — a circumstance that excited the jealousy of his brothers, who thought, from this distinction, that he was to be preferred before them. But although the education of Alfred was that of a prince, he reached his twijlfth year without being able to read ; and he might have gi'own to manhood, like his contemporaries, without know- ing a letter, when his intellectual progress commenced in the following manner. His mother Osburgha was one day reading a volume of Saxon poetry in the midst of the family, and the young princes were delighted with the rich illuminated paintings with which the book was adorned. But Alfred, who already had shewn him- self an enthusiast for the songs of the glee-men, was perhaps kindled by a nobler feeling than the mere ad- miration of gaudy colours ; so that when the queen de- clared she would give the volume to him who would first learn to read it, he alone determined to be the winner, while his seniors abandoned the task as too tedious. He therefore found a person who could teach him (probably some churchman), and persevered in con- ning his laborious tasks until he was able to claim the reward. Though Alfred had thus opened the door of knowledge, and possessed a rniud to be tempted by the 36 MILITARY HISTORY. glorious prospect that unfolded itself, he did not suffer himself to be allured into the solitary delights of an in- tellectual existence. Instead of this, he perfected him- self in every warlike exercise, and hardened his frame by the labours of the chase, in which he soon excelled all his competitors. These preliminary exercises were liot more than necessary ; for when he had reached his sixteenth year, the Danes came to England, not menly to plunder the coast, but to gain permanent possession of the country. They first secured the isle of Thane t, which served them for winter quarters ; and from this place, with the return of every spring, they sent out their hordes in every direction. Thus Northumbria was conquered, and York colonized ; the districts of Notting- ham, Lincoln, Cambridge, Norfolk, and Suffolk, were overrun; and the fortified camps of the marauders were continually extending and advancing. Alfred aided his brothers gallantly, and many engagements were fought in which the invaders were checked or discomfited ; but such was their fierce pertinacity, and the numerous rein- forcements they received from their countrymen, that their power seemed to increase with every defeat. While they thus swept through the land, their mode of warfare was unlike that of even the most barbarous nations ; for, although savages had learned to revere certain sanctions by which their atrocities were re- stricted, the Danes recognised none ; their route could be traced by the indiscriminate overthrow of church, for- tress, and hut, and the unsparing massaci-e of helpless old age and infancy as well as warlike manhood. Even those solemn engagements also by which the worst of enemies were bound had no sanctions for the Danes, who were proverbially a nation of truce-breakers. Thus, they borrowed horses of the Mercians to extend their ravages, under the most solemn oaths that they would not injure the lenders; but, when mounted, they plun- dered ally and foe without distinction. They received large sums from different districts as the price of for- bearance ; but, after they had secured the gold, they renewed their demands, and bereaved the givers of all that was still left. In the midst of these wars, Ethelbert, the eldest brother of Alfred, died, and was succeeded by Ethelred, and under him Alfred fought in nine pitched battles against the Danes in the course of a single year. ALFRED THE GREAT. 37 In oue of these, which was fought at Ashenden, in Berk- shire, Ethelred was overtaken by a most unseasonable fit of devotion, so that he retired to his tent to hear mass just as the enemy was advancing; upon which, Alfred bore up with his division against the whole brunt of the onset, and mainly contributed to the victory that fol- lowed. Ethelred died at Whittingham of wounds received in battle, and in 871 Alfred succeeded to the royal authority. But by this time it was nothing but a mockery of kingship, and threatening ruin to him who assumed it. The kingdoms of Mercia and Northumbria had seceded from the national alliance, and nothing re- mained for Alfred but the state of Wessex, already sur- rounded by the enemy, and menaced with destruction. By a partial victory at Wilton, however, he impressed the Danes with such respect for his abilities, that they for- bore to trouble him for three years, during which he was indefatigably employed in preparing for the national defence. Above all, he saw that it was necessary to obtain command of the sea, without which the enemy could be reinforced at pleasure ; but the Saxons, for- merly such skilful mariners, had abandoned navigation when they forsook the practice of piracy. Alfred, in this case, adopted what would seem to us a startling expe- dient : he hired bands of the Friesland rovers to man his navy, and instruct his inexperienced subjects. These pirates, who inhabited the country of the Angles, gladly came to the assistance of their kindred ; and they manned the English " wooden walls" of that period with such valour and fidelity, that their employer had no reason to regret the experiment. In the year 876, the war was brouu:ht into the king- dom of Wessex, and an army of Danes that had win- tered in Cambridge, suddenly landed on the coast of Dorsetshire, and surprised the castle of Wareham. Here Alfred reaped the fruits of his foresight, in the services of his infant navy, which routed a fleet of the enemy that was bringing reinforcements to the insurgents. The Danes, thus deprived of the expected aid, and finding their situation untenable, proposed to evacuate Wessex, on condition of a free departure. To these terms Alfred agreed, and not content with swearing them upon their bracelets (which was their most sacred oath), to be faith- 38 MILITARY HISTORY. ful to the treaty, he also obliged them to renew their pledge upon the relics of Christian saints. The Danes swore readily in both fashions, for Christian or pagan oaths cost them nothing; but on the next night, they suddenly fell upon Alfred as he was riding with a small force, unsuspicious of such perfidy. After a gallant re- sistance, his faithful band perished almost to a man ; the king escaped with difficulty ; and the rovers, mounting the captured horses, galloped towards Exeter, where they expected to be reinforced by a Danish fleet. In this however they were disappointed by a second naval victory, in which the fleet of Alfred destroyed or dis- persed the enemy, while the king closely invested Exeter with his forces. The Danes on learning the defeat of their brethren by sea were glad again to capitulate ; and Guthrun their leader, after swearing the usual oaths of fidelity, withdrew his troops from the kingdom of Wessex, and retired into Mercia. Of all the Danish chieftains with whom the English had as yet contended, this last-mentioned warrior ap- pears to have been the bravest; and as he possessed that disregard of treaties which was common to his countrymen, he mustered fresh forces for a new inva- sion of Wessex, notwithstanding his late agreement. But having felt the vigour of his antagonist, he went warily to work, and conceived the novel idea of a winter campaign, to which both English and Danes had been hitherto unaccustomed. His warriors were secretly as- sembled on the 1st of Januai-y, 878, and while Alfred was holding Twelfth Night at Chippenham, in fancied security, he was roused by the sound of the Danish axes at the gate. The towns' people, taken by sur- prise, offered but a faint resistance, and Alfred was again compelled to fly. The plan of Guthrun was so well laid, and his forces were so numerous, that the fate of Chippenham was soon that of the kingdom of Wessex ; every place yielded to this unforeseen winter storm ; and Alfred, having done all that valour and pru- dence could accomplish, sought shelter in obscurity, and reserved himself for a happier hour. With a few atten- dants he lurked among the fens of Essex, until a deeper concealment was necessary, in consequence of which he passed over to Athelney, or Prince's Island, at that time covered with thick woods, and insulated by the con- ALFRED THE GREAT. 39 fluence of the rivers Tbone and Parret, and by bogs and inundations, so that it could only be reached in a boat. In this desolate spot, the abode of wild beasts, the heroic Alfred led the life of a houseless outlaw, subsisting chiefly upon the scanty produce of hunting; and the place of his retreat was known to so few, that he was ge- nerally beliered to be dead. On one occasion, perhaps from the pressure of want, as well as for the purposes of concealment, he sou^iht shelter disguised as a menial, in the hut of a swineherd, and was there engaged for some time in the most lowly occupations. An amusing incident connected with this circumstance was commu- nicated by Alfred to his beloved friend Asser. The swineherd's wife, ignorant that her guest was the king, ordered him one day to superintend her loaves, that were toasting upon the hearth ; but Alfred, whose thoughts were far otherwise occupied, forgot the bread, until it was burnt to a cinder. When the shrewish housewife returned, and found her loaves thus neglected, she flew into a rage, exclaiming, ' You, fellow, yoii will not turn the bread when it is burning, and yet you are ready enough to eat it !' After some time spent in this miserable retreat, the tidings of Alfred's hiding-place were whispered among his subjects, so that bauds of his most devoted adherents repaired to Athelney, by whose aid he was enabled to fortify the little island, and make occasional incursions upon the Danes. At this period also, a cir- cumstance occurred, that may be considered as the turning point of his fortune. Hubba, a Danish chief of great renown, in attempting a landing in Devonshire, was slain, with above SOO of his followers ; but a circum- stance more fatal to the enemy than even this slaughter, was the capture of their great pledge of success, their charmed banner, called the Reafan. This standard, to which the Danes attached a mysterious importance, had been embroidered in the course of a single noon- tide by the three daughters of Lodbrok. In consequence of this success, Alfred judged that he might safely re- sume the offensive, and therefore his friends were di- rected to warn his subjects of Wessex, to muster in secrecy at Egbert's stone, on the east of Selwood forest: while during the interval he resolved to make himself fully acquainted with the state and purposes of the 40 MILITARY HISTORY. Daniiib army. This hazardous experiment he performed in the guise of a minstrel or glee-man, at that time a favoured character among all the northern tribes. With his harp in his hand, Alfred traversed the enemy's en- campment ; and while he delighted the chiefs with his minstrelsy, he caught with a quick ear the results of their consultations, after which he returned undetected to Athelney. The soldiers of Wessex mustered, accord- ing to orders, unconscious however that these had pro- ceeded from their beloved sov.ereign, so that his unex- pected appearance among them was like a rising from the dead. In the enthusiasm of such a meeting the English were irresistible, and in the battle of Ethandune, which immediately followed, the unsuspecting Danes were routed with great slaughter. Guthrun, thus sur- prised in turn, took shelter within his fortified entrench- ments; and as these were too strong to be stormed, Alfred resolved to reduce him by famine. This plan was successful, and after a close blockade of four- teen days, Guthrun was obliged to surrender. The wise policy of Alfred, on this event, is worthy of admiration. He did not reduce an enemy to despair who might still per- haps have defied his efforts ; neither did he dismiss the Panes, to swell the ranks of their marauding countrymen. Instead of this, he resolved to give them lands in Eng- land, of which there was a superabundance, and thus they would in process of time enrich and defend the country which they had laid waste. He therefore ceded to them the whole eastern country from the Thames to the Tweed, which from this circumstance was afterwards called the Danelagh. But one condition annexed to this treaty was, that Guthrun and his followers should embrace Christianity, without which it was impossible that they could become either faithful allies or peace- able subjects; and to this condition a ready assent was given. The brave Guthrun appears to have been as much subdued by the courtesy, as by the valour and skill, of his antagonist; and therefore, after this treaty, he fearlessly repaired to Alfred's camp, near Athelney, at- tended only by thirty of his chieftains. The royal Dane was baptized by the name of Athelstane, Alfred him- self officiating as sponsor; and after enjoying for twelve days the hospitality of his new godfather, Guthrun de- parted, laden with rich presents. Ever after he remained ALFRED THE GREAT. 41 stedfast to the treaty, although it was long: before his subjects amalgamated with the Euglish, and became a peaceful and industrious people. Alfred having thus rescued his paternal kingdom from the enemy, beg£in the more difficult task of repairing the havoc they had wrought. But the rest of England was still open to the successive incursions of those Danish rovers who had taken no part in the treaty of Guthrun. It was now the practice of these restless invaders to ex- amine both sides of the English channel; and if the British coast was found too well defended, they then made a landing in France, where there was no Alfred to protect it. In this manner they had made several attempts upon England, but they were defeated both by land and sea. Seven years of intermission then fol- lowed, during which peace had spread beauty and abun- dance over the land, when the Danes, who had been warring in Flanders, until the country was exhausted with famine, hurried across the channel, like ravening wolves, eager to devour as well as conquer. In the year 893, while all was peace and security, a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships stood over for the English coast, and lauded a powerful army near Romney Marsh; another fleet of eighty ships that followed, under the command of the renowned Hasting, the chief leader of the expedition, entered the Thames ; while other squad- rons hovered in the distance, and menaced the English at different points, to distract and divide their forces. To add to these calamities the faithful Guthrun was now dead, and his ungrateful subjects of the Danelagh, no longer restrained by his authority, forgot their promises, and took part with the invaders. Alfred was thus compelled to forego his beloved occu- pations of a legislator, and resume his military labours ; but he was found equal to the emergency. Hitherto, the English army had consisted of a militia, who were bound to keep the field for a certain number of days only; but the king, knowing the necessity of being always in arms azainst such opponents as the Danes, divided these feudal forces into two parts, that re- lieved each other alternately, and thus he had always an army fit for immediate service. This was an astound- ing novelty to the Danes, who saw that they were to be opposed without intermission. The first measure of 42 MILITARY HISTORY. Alfred, in commencing the campaig-ii, was €o prevent the two Danish armies that had landed from uniting their forces ; and accordingly he threw himself between them, and fortified himself so skilfully in front, flank, and rear, that the enemy did not dare to attack him. Here therefore they remained cooped up in their respec- tive entrenchments, until Hasting, the Danish leader, resolved to extricate himself by a bold manoeuvre. He sent messengers professing his desire of leaving the kingdom ; and when permission was granted, he seemed to make every preparation for departure. He even drew off his forces, and embarked them in his ships ; but instead of leaving England, he only crossed the Thames, and landed in the Danelagh, upon the coast of Essex, where he took up a strong position. In the mean time the larger Danish army, that was blockaded by the rear of the English force, suddenly burst from its en- trenchments, in the hope of effecting a junction with Hasting, in Essex. Alfred, who thus found himself cir- cumvented, and without a fleet at hand to pursue the armament of Hasting, followed the land march of the enemy with great expedition : he overtook them near Farnham, in Surrey, brought them to action, and de- feated them with great loss. The survivors hastily retreated before him, until they reached the isle of Mersey, where they strongly fortified themselves ; but the king, who had closely followed their steps, invested them so strictly, that they were on the point of surren- dering, when he was called away by a revolt of the Danelagh. The settlers of that district had raised two large fleets, with which they attacked different parts of the coast, to effect a diversion in favour of their heathen brethren. In this emergency, Alfred left a portion of his army to continue the blockade of Mersey, and mount- ing the rest on horses, he flew with great celerity to Exeter, which the men of the Danelagh were besieging. His arrival compelled them to abandon the siege, and fly to their shipping, after which he returned to Mersey. Here he exhibited a trait of generosity, that shewed Ijow superior he was to the age, or his contemporaries. During his absence, the wife and two sons of Hasting had been taken prisoners ; and the Thanes were earnest that Alfred should put them to death, or at least detain them as hostages, to keep the enemy in check. But the ALFRED THE GREAT. 43 king disdained such ignoble modes of warfare, sanc- tioned as they had been by general custom ; and there- fore he not only freed the captives, but sent them to Hasting, laden with rich presents. In the mean time, Hasting was so much strengthened by reinforcements from the Danelagh, and from beyond sea, that he was soon enabled to assume the aggressive : he therefore sailed up the Thames, and plundered the country on either side ; after which he marched to the Severn, and fortified himself strongly at Buttington. But Alfred, who was powerfully reinforced by the Welsh, was enabled again to blockade the enemy, so that the Danes at last, in the extremity of hunger, were obliged to eat all their horses. Hasting once more broke from his confinement, and after a desperate attack on the English lines, and great havoc among his follow- ers, he succeeded in reaching his shipping, on the coast of Essex. But Alfred was unable to pursue the retreat- ing enemy, in consequence of his losses in the last conflict, while the diminished ranks of his antagonist continued to be swelled by fresh accessions from the Danelagh. Hasting therefore maintained his superi- ority, and was still able to march and ravage as before. Such continued to be the history of three campaigns, composed of alternate checks and successes, in which the greater part of England was traversed by the op- posing armies, and where the skill and valour of Alfred were encountered by almost equal resources on the part of his indefatigable rival. One stratagem of the former, during the second year of this trying warfare, is woi'thy of particular notice. During the spring. Hasting sailed up the Lea, and erected a sti-ong fortress about twenty miles above London, and then harassed the city with perpetual incursions; upon which Alfred, who drew his forces round London to protect it, conceived the bold idea of clipping the wings of the invaders, by making their shipping unserviceable. He accordingly erected a fortress on each side of the river, a little below the Danish station ; after which he drew off the waters of the Lea into the Thames, by cutting three broad chan- nels, so that a small boat would have grounded where a fleet had lately passed ; and the Danes, with astonish- ment and gi-ief, beheld their whole navy stranded. Even after this afflicting disaster, Hasting continued to shew 44 MILITARY HISTORY. aa bold a front, and as much fertility of resources, as ever, so that he spun out the war into a third year, and might have continued it much longer, but his indomi- table spirit was not shared by his desponding country- men. They now perceived that, under the reign of Alfred, they were likely to possess no portion of the English soil, except as a place of burial ; and however they might be indifferent to toil and wounds, they were too wise to covet them without the accompaniment of plunder. The Jarls, who followed the raven-banner of their great leader, withdrew successively, and set sail in quest of less dangerous enemies, while others found homes among their brethren in the Danelagh; and Hasting, with an indignant regret, like Hannibal when torn from Italy, felt himself compelled to abandon that beautiful England, which he had so fondly hoped to conquer. In a few ships, some of which were hastily constructed by his followers, and others procured from the Danelagh, he crossed over to Normandy (a.d. 897), and there obtained an humbler settlement by negotiation. Alfred thus cleared the land of an enemy under which it had almost fallen ; and such was the wholesome terror which his victories produced, as well as the efficiency to which he brought his navy, that the rovers returned no more during the rest of his reign. But his character as a warrior was the least of his well-earned reputation. He was the legislator and teacher, as well as the deliverer of England, and the labour which he underwent to in- struct himself, that he might be able to humanize and instruct his subjects, was worth all the achievements that ever valour performed. Our admiration of so much worth is also heightened, when we recollect that all was accomplished within a comparatively short life, as he died at the age of fifty-three — and a life that had been embittered from his youth by the agonies of a mysterious disease, that eluded the skill, and defied the remedies, of the physician. Indeed, were it not that he forms such an authentic portion of history, we might almost imagine that so much excellence could never have existed in one individual— that his life was some beautiful fiction of inspired genius, rather than a portraiture of reality — and that it had been happily devised as a model for kings, which they might strive to imitate, without the hope to equal. BATTLE OF BRUNANBURGH, 45 A. D. Alfred was succeeded by his second son Edward, 901. whose reign was chiefly distinguished by a civil contest which had been stirred up by his cousin Ethelwald, and the war which he carried on against the colonists of the Danelagh. This people, notwithstanding their long settlement in England, and their profession of Christianity, seem to have still looked back, with fond- ness to their relinquished habits, and forsaken gods ; and having now become numerous and powerful, they scorned their territorial limits, and aspired to the posses- sion of the whole country. In the year 911, they ad- vanced as far as the Severn, where they were defeated by Edward with great slaughter. He then turned his attention to the East Anglian Danes and to Mercia, and at length, by unremitting perseverance, he abolished every trace of separate government, and united all the Saxon territories into one kingdom about a.d. 924. He died shortly after, and his death was immediately followed by that of his eldest son Ethelwald. But his illegitimate son and successor Athelstane, was destined more effec- tually to reunite the kingdom. He conquered the Welsh, whom he compelled to pay tribute, and reduced to sub- mission the Briton race of Devonshire and Cornwall, who had never been effectually subdued. But the great event of his reign was, the battle of Brunanburgh, in Northumbria, in which he destroyed a more formidable coalition than England had ever yet encountered. Anlaf the Dane,who had obtained a settlement in Ireland, sailed up the H umber, in the year 937, with six hundred and twenty ships; and this vast armament was aided by Constantine the Scottish king, by the men of the Dane- lagh, the Cumbrians, the people of Strathclyde, and the inhabitants of North Wales, while the whole land seemed to faint under the shadow of so many hostile banners. Athelstane boldly encountered them, and the battle, which lasted from sunrise till sunset, was long after- wards the pride, and chief theme, of Saxon minstrelsy. The confederates were defeated with immense loss, and five kings and seven Jarls were numbered among the slain. The important fruits of this victory were, the complete subjugation of the Danelagh and Wales ; and thus Athelstane had the glory of being the second Egbert, by effecting the reunion of all England into one monarchy. The land now assumed an appearance of unprecedented 46 MILITARY HISTORY. grandeur and importance, and the court of Athelstane became alternately a seminary and a sanctuary, to which princes repaired for improvement, or fled for pro tection. The magTianimity of the grandson of Alfred was commensurate with the extent of his power, so that when he restored Constantiue to his Scottish throne, and Howel to his Welsh princedom, it was with the heroic declaration, that he would rather bestow kingdoms than enjoy them. Most unfortunately for England, his reign was brief, as he died in the year 940. Had he lived longer, he might perhaps, like his grandfather, have secured the kingdom against those calamities which so soon befell it, when the sceptre had passed into feebler hands. The short reigns of Edmund the Magnificent, and Edred the Feeble-footed; of Edwy, the unhappy victim of Dun- stan, and Edgar, whose manifold and high-sounding titles occupy sometimes a score of lines, and who was rowed in his barge on the river Dee by eight crowned kings ; and his son Edward the Martyr, who was assas- sinated by the command of his stepmother Elfrida ; — these reigns furnish no particular events in the military history of the period. Thirty-nine years only elapsed between the death of Athelstane, and that of the last- mentioned monarch, and the chief warfare in England during that period was the warfare of the church, in which St. Dunstan figured as the principal combatant. But all this was fatally pi-eparing for the military degra- dation and defeat of England. During that ghostly as- cendancy of the priests which was every year becoming more complete, the country was drained of its substance to enrich the church ; the wealthy, who sought forgive- ness of sin, were instructed to build monasteries, and the poor, who had nothing to give, were invited to fill them. This monkish humour increased, so that thousands and myriads who ought to have laboured for the national prosperity, and been prepared in the hour of jeopardy for the national defence, sheltered their sloth and cow- ardice under a shaven crown and monastic frock. The venerable Bede, who had foreseen the evil at an early period, predicted that, in the event of an invasiou, enough of soldiers would not be found from the preva- lence of this habit. The danger was now at hand, and the prophecy was fulfilled. RETURN OF THE DANES. 47 Edward the Martyr had been succeeded in the throne ot England by Ethelred the Unready, when the Danes ajain made their appearance. Forty-four years had elapsed since their former visit, during which they had been conquering and plundering in other quarters ; but Sweyn, a Danish prince, who was banished by his father, resolved to win, in lieu of his patei'nal inheritance, the rich kingdom of England ; and he landed k.u. 981, at the bead of a large host whom he had allured to his exiled standard. The Unready king was worthy of his title ; and his counsellors and warriors, unrestrained by his feeble administration, were more occupied with their own selfish feuds, than the means of national defence. Even, too, when fleets and armies were mustered, they were too often commanded by traitors in league w^th the enemy ; and thus the Danish career was one of almost unchecked success, while one armament after another followed in the tract of Sweyn. In this emer- gency, the miserable expedient was adopted by Ethelred of buying oflf the enemy with money, and the safety of England was purchased from 10,000 rovers by as many pounds of silver. But although one band of the enemy was thus bought oiF, it was only that others might be allured to so rich a market ; and England was daily be- coming more exhausted and helpless by fresh imposts of Dane-gelt, which such a system required. At last, in A. D. 994, Sweyn, who had succeeded to the crown of Denmark, made a fresh invasion, accompanied by Olave king of Norway, and these two arch-pirates made such dire havoc, that sixteen thousand pounds of silver had to be raised to purchase their foi'bearance ; and again, in A.D. 1001, a fresh Danish invasion was made that re- quired to be bought oflf by twenty-four thousand pounds. In the mean time, every period, whether of war or nego- tiation, was equally filled with Danish atrocity and pillage; the rovers saw the feebleness of the land, and all that they coveted became their own. At last, after the English had exhausted their coflfers, and wearied heaven with unavailing prayers and pe- nances, a device for the deliverance of the land was adopted — a device that indicated the lowest stage of national feebleness and baseness. This was, to rid themselves of all the Danes in England by a sudden and universal massacre. Secret orders were sent to the 48 MILITARY HISTORY. rulers of the towns and districts, for this purpose ; anc' on the 13th of November, 1002, which was the festival of St. Bryce, the oppressors were suddenly attacked and murdered, without distinction of age or sex. The Dane- lagh, which was too strong for such an experiment, was left untouched ; but in every other part of England the massacre commenced at the same day and hour, and those Danes who had long been colonists in the country, and had connected themselves with the natives by intermarriages, and friendly intercourse, were unspar- ingly confounded with the untamed murderer and ma- rauder. Even Gunhilda, a sister of Sweyn, who had be- come a Christian, and been married to an English earl, was remorselessly put to death, after her husband and children had been butchered in her presence ; and with her last breath she hurled curses upon her murderers, and foretold the vengeance that was at hand. It indeed required no prophetic power to foresee a terrible retribution. The cry of blood was wafted to Denmark, and the whole nation rose at the summons. They looked upon the cause as a sacred one, and there- fore an armament was assembled, not composed of a few Jarls, as heretofore, but of the whole might and worth of the kingdom ; and they set sail, to revenge a deed which no gold and silver could expiate. They landed unopposed, and swept over England like a tor- rent. The bitterness of vengeance, among such a people, assumed a certain frightful appearance of gaiety ; for in all the towns and villages through which they marched, they caused repasts to be prepared, and the inhabitants to wait upon them; and when the revelry was ended, they coolly slew the entertainers, and set fire to their houses. For two years this frightful career continued, until the Danes, starved out by the famine they had oc- casioned, were obliged to leave the kingdom. A respite of two years then occuiTcd in England ; but in a.d. 1006, Sweyn returned, and was bought off by the payment of thirty-six thousand pounds of silver (£108,000), and after him succeeded a large array called 'Thyrkel's host,' who besieged and destroyed Canterbury in 1011, with many thousands of the inhabitants. His departure was also effected by the payment of forty-eight thousand pounds of silver (£144,000). In the language of a mo- dern conqueror ' the pear was now ripe,' and Sweyn re- DANISH COxVQUEST OF ENGLAND. 49 turned, not for a fresh bribe of English money, but to seize the kingdom itself. His course was a triumphant march, rather than a conquest; every town and province yielded at his approach, while Ethelred, that poor pageant of a king, fled with his wife and children to the court of his father-in-law, duke Richard of Normandy. Sweyn was proclaimed 'full king of England,' a.d. 1013, and had only enjoyed the great prize of his ambition for a few days, when he died ; but his conquests fell into the more able hands of his son and successor, Canute. Even in this ex- tremity, the English rallied for a dying struggle, incited, or rather dragged into the field by Edmund Ironside, a bastai-d son of Ethelred, and in whom the mighty spirit of Alfred seemed to have been renewed. But although the Ironside displayed surpassing valour and military skill, the fate of England was beyond the retrieval of any single hero ; and after several fruitless victories, Edmund agreed to a proposal of his rival, to divide the country between them. Edmund survived this treaty only two months ; and after his death, in a.u. 1017, Ca- nute remained in possession of the whole kingdom. After Canute had been peaceably settled on the throne, the grandeur, power, and wisdom of Charlemagne seemed to have revived in his person. He was king of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, as well as England; and the last of these countries, under his energetic administration, became peaceful, powerful, and happy. Indeed, it must be acknowledged, that for some time the English na- tional character had become so deteriorated, especially among the higher classes, that an infusion of fresh spirit was necessary ; and this was obtained by the peaceable influx of Danes into the kingdom under Canute, and his immediate successors. Canute died in a.d. 1035, and was succeeded first by Harold, and then by Hardicanute, his two sons ; after which the English line was restored in Edward the Confessor, the son of Ethelred the Unready. To Edward may indirectly be traced the chief causes of the Norman conquest of England. He had been sent in childhood to the protection of the Norman court, where he naturally acquired a predilection for the dress, habits, and language of the country ; but when he suc- ceeded to his native throne, he retained these peculiari- ties, to the great dislike of his subjects. Even this D 50 MILITARY HISTORY. would have been tolerable, compared with that subse- quent folly by which he inundated the court with a throng of Norman favourites, who soon usurped every office of profit and authority in the state, the church, and the army. The French tongue and the costume of Normandy were now the predominant fashion of the courtiers, while the avarice and extortion of the domi- neering strangers became almost as insupportable as the former Danish exactions. In this state of matters a popular champion stepped forward, who ably advanced his own interests, by espousing the rights of the people. This was earl Godwin, who, from having been the son of a cowherd, had become the wealthiest and most pow- erful noble in England, and the father in-law of his sovereign, by his daughter Editha. But this marriage, which might have bound king and earl together, only set them the more at variance, and prepared the way for the approaching conquest of England. Although Editha was good and beautiful, the king had bound himself by a monkish vow of chastity, which his hatred of her father made him by no means likely to break; and the question of who should be his successor, was anxiously considered by every English heart, A general suspicion that Edward already intended this distinction for his cousin, the duke of Normandy, made the Norman favour- ites still more obnoxious to the whole country. While the popular feeling was in this state, an event, that happened in 1051, brought it to a crisis. Eustace, count of Boulogne, who had married a sister of Edward, Tisited his brother-in-law with a powerful Norman re- tinue ; and as he saw French and Norman prelates and courtiers every where predominating in England, he was led to despise the natives as a people already conquered. With this feeling he returned from court, to set sail to his own country ; and when he came within a short dis- tance of Dover, he armed himself, mounted his war- charger, and at the head of his mailed retinue galloped into the city, in the fashion of a military triumph. His followers proceeded to take free quarters for the night by selecting the best houses, and ejecting the owners; an Englishman who resisted was wounded by a Norman, upon which he armed himself, and slew the intruder; but for this he was beset, and slaughtered upon his own threshold, by the arrogant strangers. After this they VISITS OF THE NORMANS. 51 galloped furiously among the crowd, and wounded or trampled down all who stood in their way ; but the citizens having furnished themselves with weapons, slew several of the Normans, and Eustace, who was unable to fight his way to the port, flew back at full speed to the king, to complain of the indignity he had sustained from the men of Dover. The town was under the juris- diction of Godwin, who was therefore ordered by the king to perform sti-ict military execution upon the insurgents ; but this the earl refused, alleging that they were con- demned, unheard. In consequence of the rage of Ed- ward on this occasion, the old earl took up arms, for the defence of the English against the strangers ; but the wily politician was out-manceuvred by the king in this instance, and obliged to fly with his family to foreign countries, while his immense estates, and high offices, were doled out to Norman favourites. During this exile of earl Godwin, Edward invited the duke of Normandy to England, and he came at the invitation with a nu- merous and splendid train. He already saw, in the preponderance of Norman interests at court, the way prepared for his ambitious hopes, and it has been as- serted that, during this visit, his siiccession to the Eng- lish throne was secretly ratified by the Confessor. After this the scene shifted. Godwin returned ; and the people who regarded him as their champion and martyr, flocked to his standard, while the Normans, who saw the help- lessness of resistance, hurried from every quarter to the sea coast, and fled the kingdom. Edward, thus bereaved of his counsellors and favourites, was obliged to suc- cumb to his victorious father-in-law. Soon after this event earl Godwin died, and was succeeded by Harold, the bravest, wisest, and best of his family; a hero en- deared to the English not only by his popular qualities, and his splendid victories over the Welsh, but also by the zeal with which he had fought and sufiered in vin- dicating their rights against the strangers. Another important event in the drama of the English conquest now occurred. Harold had occasion to repair to Normandy, for what purpose it is impossible to ascer- tain, but through the unskilfulness of the mariners his vessel was wrecked, near the mouth of the river Somme. Upon this, the lord of Ponthieu, on whose coast the accident happened, seized the persons of Harold and his 52 MILITARY HISTORY. followers, and threw them into prison, for the purpose of extorting a large ransom for their liberty, according to the barbarous usages of tlie age. The duke of Nor- mandy heard of this circumstance, and resolved to convert it to his own advantage ; he therefore com- pelled the count to release his prisoners, and forward them to the Norman court. When Harold arrived, he soon perceived, notwithstanding the smooth courtesies of the duke, that he was more a prisoner than before. William announced to Harold his hopes of succeeding Edward, and desired the other's co-operation; and Harold promised every thing. But still the duke was not satis- fied, and he was resolved to extort oaths, as well as promises, from his helpless rival. For this purpose he assembled his chiefs and nobles in full court, and hav- ing secretly gathered the bones and relies of saints from all the churches in the country, he deposited them in a huge cask, which was covered with a cloth of gold, that gave it the appearance of an altar, while the whole was surmounted by a missal, open at the Evangelists. Harold" was then brought in, and duke William, who was seated in his chair of state, with a golden diadem on his head, and a rich sword in his hand, rose and said, ' Earl Harold, I require thee before this noble assembly to confirm by oath the promises thou hast made me ;— to wit, that thou wilt aid me in obtaining the kingdom of England, after king Edward's death; that thou wilt marry my daughter Adela ; and send me thy sister, that I may give her in marriage to one of my chiefs.' The son of Godwin, who was unable to retract, advanced with a reluctant step; and laying his hand upon the missal, he swore to the performance of these conditions. At a signal from William the cloth of gold was then lifted up, and Harold saw with a shudder the ghastly heap of sanctity upon which he had pledged himself. In those days of loose morality and perverted religion, an oath might be easily eluded, however the Divine Being might have been attested ; but to swear upon the thumb or the toe of a departed saint was a sanction not to be violated. Some time after this event, Edward sickened, and was laid upon his death-bed, and his last hours were haunted with the terrible consequences of his foolish monastic vow. The crown of England would soon be HAROLD ELECTED KING. 53 the object of a fearful struggle between two rivals, each too proud to yield; and while the monarch foresaw the torrents of blood that would be shed, he incoherently re- peated in his dying agonies those passages of scripture that announce woe and desolation to guilty kingdoms. He died on the 5th of January, 1060, but his choice of a successor is still a mystery. The Norman party de- clared that he elected their duke ; but no will or docu- ment was even forged for the purpose, when such a testimony would have been availing. On the other hand the English asserted, that the Confessor in his last illness had appointed Harold to succeed him, with the declaration, that none was so worthy to wear the crown as the great son of earl Godwin. Be that as it may, the right of Harold was certainly superior to that of his rival, inasmuch as he was raised to the throne by the choice of the nation; and hitherto, England had been more an elective than an hereditai-y monarchy. So eager was the popular feeling in behalf of the man of its choice, that one and the same evening celebrated the obsequies of Edward, and the coronation of Harold. Had William been as able as he was willing to invade England immediately after this event, the probability is, that a Norman dynasty would never have been settled upon the English throne. But events rolled onward to the accomplishment of this purpose with a mysterious- ness that defied human calculation, and with a power that nothing could resist. While the duke of Normandy was employed in long and anxious preparation for the future conquest, an English traitor was preparing the way for him, by stirring up other enemies against his native country. This was Tostig, the brother of Harold, who had been deposed and expelled his earldom of Northumberland on account of his oppression and cru- elty. Harold's love of justice would not permit him to recall the oppressor, and Tostig became as fierce an enemy of his royal brother as duke William himself, whom he instigated to the invasion; and not content with this, he attempted by himself a hostile landing in England, but was soon driven to his ships. He then fled to Denmark, to instigate its king against England, but the Danes were now ceasing to be a nation of ad- venturous pirates ; upon which he repaired to Hardrada, king of Norway, who listened to the proposal with a more 54 MILITARY HISTORY, willing ear. This, the last of the terrible sea-kings, was persuaded by the traitor that he could easily exchange his barren Norway for fair and fertile England. He therefore raised an immense ai-mament, consisting of two hundred war-ships, and three hundred store-ships and vessels of smaller size, in which the flower of his kingdom was embarked : he landed in England, near York, and at first swept all opposition before him. Harold, who had taken post with his forces upon the southern coasts, to prevent the landing of William, was now obliged to break up his encampment hastily, that he might march against his new Norwegian rival ; and this he did with such promptitude and skill, that Hardrada was surprised within a few miles of York. It is even said in the Runic songs that the Norwegians, who had been only a few days landed, were without their cui- rasses, and that nearly half their forces were still with the ships. But Hardrada immediately despatched mes- sengers to the rest of the army to hasten their coming, while he drew up his surprised troops at Stamford bridge, on the Derwent, to abide the brunt of the onset. He arranged his army in a circle : the front soldiers were or- dered to plant their spears upon the ground, with tlie points presented to the enemy, while the second rank held their weapons breast-high, and pointing forward; and in this way he hoped to repel the English horsemen, as he had very few cavalry. As he rode among his lines, and chanted a war-song, his horse stumbled, and he fell; but starting up unhurt, he exclaimed, that this was a good omen. But the event was interpreted dif- ferently both by his followers and the enemy. Harold asked bis people, who that stately warrior might be, with the golden helmet, and blue mantle, who had just fallen . and on being told that it was Hardrada, he said, * He is a tall and strong person ; but I see that fortune has for- saken him.' Before the battle joined, a generous attempt was made on the part of Harold to recall Tostig to his duty. Com- pletely concealed from head to foot by his mail, and followed by a score of mailed horsemen, the king gal- loped to that part of the Norwegian army where the banner of Tostig was flying, and demanded if the Ensilish earl was there. ' You know he is here,' cried Tostig, stepping forward, and answering for himself. The dis- I DEFEAT OF THE NORWEGIANS. 55 guiseii horseman then, iu the name of his bix)ther, pro- mised him peace, and the fair earldom of North umbria, if he would return to his allegiance. ' And what territory will you g-ive,' said the other, ' to my ally, Hardrada, the king of Norway?' ' Seven feet of English earth,' cried the other boldly ; ' or, since he is taller than most men, he shall have a little more.' ' Ride back., ride back,' said Tostig, ' and tell Harold to prepare for battle. When the northmen tell the tale of this day, they shall never say tliat Tostig forsook Hardiada, the son of Sigurd.' The English earl knew that he had par- leyed with his brother ; but although sufficiently ready to slay him in the fair shock of battle, his rude sense of honour made him as incapable of hindering his safe departure, as of abandoning the cause of the king of Norway. The battle that ensued was long, fierce, and sanguinary, and even when the northmen were over- powered, their countrymen from the ships arrived, and renewed the combat. But at last the victory was de- cided in favour of Harold, by the death of Hardrada, Tostig, and every Norwegian chief of consequence, and the destniction of nearly the whole of tbeir aiTuj'. The fleet of the enemy also fell into the hands of the con- queror ; but he generously permitted Olave, the son of Hardrada, to gather the mournful relics of the invaders, and depart with them in twenty-four ships to Noi-way. This great battle, which was so glorious but fatal to England, was fought on the 25th of September, 1006, and four days after, during the rejoicings of the English, in- telligence was brought to Harold that duke William of Normandy had landed without opposition on the coast of Susses.. The king, elated by his recent victory, hastened from York with his diminished forces, and, without waiting for reinforcements, determined to give battle to his formidable opponent. At London he showed a still greater infatuation, in weakening his army, by manning seven hundred ships to hinder the escape of William, so confident was he of success. Thus strangely did friend and enemy conspire to work out that event which was to put an end to the Saxon line, and to place the Norman dynasty upon the throne of England. The account of the memorable battle of Hastings, and the death of Harold, will be found fully detailed in the life of the Conqueror. 56 MILITARY HISTORY. WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. This great fouuder of the dynasty of the Normans ill England was the son of Robert, duke of Normandy, commonly called Robert the Devil, by a young girl of humble rank, named Harlotta, or, the well-beloved.* One day the duke, as he returned from the chase, saw this maiden washing linen in a brook, with her com- panions, near Falaise ; and being smitten with her beauty, he determined to make her his mistress. For this pui-pose he sent proposals to her father, who was a tanner, by one of his most discreet knights. The tanner was unwilling to grant, but afraid to refuse, the wishes of his lord ; and in this perplexity he sent to his brother, who Avas a hermit, to have his scruples resolved. The answer of the holy man was, that the will of a powerful man should be done in all things ; upon which Har- lotta was given up to the will of duke Robert, and be- came the mother of William, The infant was cherished as if he had been the son of a wife ; and when he was only seven years old, his father resolved, according to the prevalent fashion, to make a pilgrimage to Jerusa- lem, for the remission of his sins. Tlie idea of this journey, however, dismayed the Noraian chiefs, who represented to the duke, that it was not well to leave tliera without a chief; upon wliich he answered, ' By my faith, sirs, ye say well : here I have a little bastard, who, please God, will grow bigger : choose him for your duke, and I will appoint him my successor.' The Normans relished the proposal, because they found it convenient ; and they placed their palms between the hands of the boy, according to the northern fashion, and swore that they would be his men ; after which cere- mony duke Robert departed. He never returned, and therefore William, even from his early years, was in- volved in continual wars against those who envied his good fortune, or objected to his illegitimacy. But the youth, by the aid of the king of France, triumphed over all opposition, and as he grew to manhood, he exhibited » The Eng-lisli, in their hatred of every thing pertainin"- to the Con- queror, soon chang-ed this name into one of very different meaning. WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 57 a character which his fiercest rnaligners were compelled to respect. He was one of the strongest and bravest men which that wai-like age had produced ; his mili- tary skill was superior to that of any contemporary ; and his political sagacity, sharpened and matured by the troubles of his youth, enabled him to succeed in those great enterprises where military qualities alone would have been of little avail. Mention has already been made of the relationship that subsisted between William and Edward the Con- fessor, and the visit which the former made to the English court. So much was the Norman's hope ex- cited from these circumstances, of becoming one day king of England, that some historians have actually imagined that a secret compact to this effect had been ratified betwixt him and Edward. When Harold was so shamefully circumvented at the court of Normandy, as has been already described, the hopes of William must have been greatly strengthened, and, therefore, it was with astonishment and chagrin that he received tidings of the coronation of his rival. He was trying a new bow and arrows in his park, near Rouen, when the news aiuived, upon which he immediately repaired to the city, entered his palace, and walked to and fro in great agitation. His attendants were eager to know the cause of this disquietude, and interrogated the duke's favourite officer ; but as he was equally ignorant, he re- paired to his master for infonnation. When he had heard the cause, he comforted William with these words : ' Do not be angry about what cannot be amended : for Edward's death there can be no remedy, but for Harold's wrong there is. Yours is the good right — yours are the good soldiers. Undertake boldly ; what is boldly un- dertaken is half accomplished.' William, in the first instance, tried the effect of negotiation, and sent a messenger to Harold, to remind him of his oath. He was not so ignorant as to imagine that, from such an argument, Harold would descend from his throne, and comply with the conditions of the treaty ; but from the refusal which he anticipated, he perhaps hoped to make the new king odious in the eyes of all super- stitious men, and thus to vindicate the contemplated invasion of England. Harold, with some show of jus- tice, replied, that he had sworn upon compulsion, and, D2 58 MILITARY HISTORY. therefore, was free of the oath. As for the royal ofiice, he liad received it from the country, and by the same autliority only he would lay it down again. ' I cannot take a foreign wife,' he added, ' without the same per- mission ; and as for my sister, whom he claims, to marry her to one of his chiefs, she has been dead within the year : would he have me send her corpse V William afterwards demanded that Harold should, at least, marry his daughter ; but the latter, who perhaps thought that the recognition of this part of the treaty would be an acknowledgment of the whole, returned a positive de- nial, and soon after he tei-minated all farther negotia- tion by marrying a Saxon lady, the sister of Edwin and Morcar, the two powerful chiefs of Northumbria and Mercia. The only arbitration of the quarrel that now remained was by the sword, and a parliament of the Norman chiefs was assembled, to supply their liege with the means of vindicating his claim to England. A stormy debate followed, for the Normans were as yet a free people ; and they thought it enough to pay their feudal dues, without helping their duke to foreign conquests. They also thought that their own liberties would be compromised if William obtained the crown of Eng- land. They therefore appointed for their representative William Fitz-Osbert, to announce and excuse to the duke their inability to aid him in the invasion ; but Fitz-Osbert, when he appeared before William, instead of delivering their sentiments faithfully, used a wholly difierent language : * You know,' he said, ' the helps they have furnished, and the great services they have done you : well, they now wish to do more ; they wish to serve you on the other side of the sea, as well as on this. Go on, and spare nothing that they can do ; he who has furnished you with two good horsemen, will be at the expense of double that number.' ' No, no!' cried the astonished Normans, who followed Fitz-Osbert, * we did not bid you carry such an answer. It cannot be ! — it cannot be !' The wrath of the members every moment becoming louder and warmer, at last threatened a tu- mult, and William dismissed the assembly. He now adopted a practice which was used some centuries after- wards in England, by his descendants, when they en- countered a similar opposition. He called the chiefs one WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 59 by one into his presence, and by soft words, and many promises, overcame their opposition ; for separately, every one was either won over by his flattery, or afraid to oppose his lord. In this way, ships, men, and mili- tary stores, poured in from every quarter of Normandy ; but as these were still far from being sufficient for the conquest of such a country as England, William published his proclamation of war in all the neighbouring lauds, with the promise of pay and plunder to every soldier who would join him. 'Then,' says the Norman Chroni- cle, ' a multitude came by all roads, from far and near — from the south and from the north— from- Maine and from Anjou, from Poitou and from Brittany, from the French country and from Flanders, from Aquitaine and fiom Burgundy, from Piedmont and from the banks of the Rhine.' Of this motley but formidable host of adventurers, some asked regular pay, others what- ever plunder they could win ; some were eager for lauds, houses, or castles in England, while others limited their modest wishes to some rich English bride. William rejected none, and gratified all with promises. While he thus received military aid from every quarter, the church was not idle. It was thought, according to the policy of Rome, that a usurper would be more subser- vient to ghostly authority than a lawful king, and therefore the pope, Alexander II., espoused the cause cif William. Harold was proclaimed by the pontiff a perjured person, and a traitor, and tlie duke of Nor- mandy the lawful sovereign of the country. A bull also was sent to the Norman granting him authority to take possession of England ; and with the bull, was a con- secrated standard, and a ring containing, within a rich diamond, a hair from the head of St. Peter. William, thus furnished with all kinds of right, according to the opinion of the times, hastened his preparations during the whole of the spring and summer. The place of meeting for the ships and warriors was at the mouth of the Dive, but when all was ready, the fleet was de- tained for a month in port, by contrary winds, and the men, little knowing that all this delay was indispensa- ble to the success of their expedition, broke into indig- nant murmurs. ' That man,' they cried, • is foolish, he is very foolish, who seeks to possess himself of another man's land : God is angry at such designs, and shows 60 MILITARY HISTORY. his displeasure by refusing us a fair wind.' William attempted to soothe them by adding strong liquors to their provisions, and causing the relics of St. Valery to be carried in procession through the camp. On the next night the wind changed, and the whole fleet, con- sisting of about three thousand vessels, left the port on the following moniing. On the next day the ship of William, which led the van, had far outsailed the rest, so that he was obliged to cast anchor, and wait their coming up. On the 28th of September, lOGO, the whole armament landed unopposed at Pevensey, near Hastings, just three days after Harold's victory over the Nor- wegians. William was the last man of the army who stepped on shore, in doing which he stumbled, and fell on his face. His followers began to murmur at the evil omen, but William, who had started immediately to his feet, showed them his hands filled with mud. * What is the matter r he gaily exclaimed ; ' I have taken seisin of this land ; and, by the splendour of God, so far as it extends, it is mine — it is yours.' The army marched towards Hastings, near which an encampment was drawn out ; and three wooden castles, that had been brought over in ]'ieces, were set up, and victualled, that they might serve as a retreat, or rallying point, in case of emergency. In the mean time Harold, who was at York, and still smarting with his wounds, no sooner heard of the arri- val of the duke, than he hoped to surprise him, as he had done Hardrada, by a sudden onset ; he, therefore, made such hasty marches, that he was at hand long befoie William could have expected his coming. But the Noi-man army was defended by strong and nume- rous outposts, and these falling back as Harold advanced, gave timely notice of his approach. The English king, therefore, altered his plan, and halted within seven miles of the enemy's camp, where he entrenched him- self behind palisades and ditches. He then sent spies to survey the Norman encampment, who, on their re- turn, declared, with astonishment, that there were more priests in the army of William than soldiers in their own. It was the fashion of the Normans to shave their beards, and cut their hair close in the form of a clerical tonsure, leaving only the moustaches ; while the Eng- lish, on the contrary, let their hair and beards gi-ow to WILLIAM TKE CONQUEROR. CI their full length. Harold smiled at tbe mistake, and replied, ' Those whom you have seen are not pnests, but good soldiers, and they will make us feel what they are.' William now renewed his negotiations, giving Harold the choice of three alternatives : these were, to resign his crown in favour of William — to refer the question to the arbitration of the pope — or decide which of the two should be king by the issue of a single combat ; but to all these proposals Harold gave an abrupt refusal. William again sent his messenger with the offer, that all the country beyond the Kumber should be left to Harold, if he would acknowledge the other's claim, ' otherwise,' added the duke, ' tell him before all his people, that he is a perjurer, and a liar ; that he and all his supporters are excommunicated, and that the bull to that effect is in my possession.' When the message was delivered, the English started at the word excommunication, and looked at each other in silence. But when they remembered that the Normau had already parcelled out their houses and lands among his followers, they determined to tight stoutly, and conquer or die in their defence. On the night that preceded the battle the foreign priests and monks, who had followed the army of William in multitudes, in the hope of booty and promotion, uttered prayers and chanted litanies for the morrow's success, shrived the soldiers, and administered the sacrament ; after which there was a solemn silence for the night. But in the English camp it was far otherwise. There, the soldiers passed the interval in military glee, shouting, singing their national songs, and quaffing huge horns of ale and wine, like men preparing for victory, or, at least, de- termined to enjoy their last hours in mirth and revelry. At length the day dawned — the day so pathetically bewailed in the ancient chronicles of England as being: ' so deadly, so bitter, and so stained with the blood of the brave.' On the morning, the bishop of Bayeux, the son of William's mother by a citizen of Falaise, cele'orated mass in the Norman camp, with a rocket over his armour; after which he threw aside his clerical vestment, mounted a war-horse, and marshalled his brigade of cavalry with a truncheon. William was mounted upon a Spanish steed; the holiest of the relics upon which Harold had sworn, were suspended from C2 MILITARY HISTORY. his neck in a casket, while by his side rode Toustaiu the Fair, bearing aloft the banner that had been blessed by the pope ; and when the soldiers were prepared for battle, he thus addressed them : ' Remember to fight well, and put all to death ; for if we conquer, we shall all be rich. What I gain, you will gain ; if I conquer, you will conquer also ; if I take the land, you will have it. Know ye also that I have not come hither merely to obtain my right ; but also to avenge our whole race for the perjuries and treacheries of these English. They muidered our kinsmen the Danes, men and women, on the night of good St. Bryce. They decimated the compa- nions of my kinsman Alfred, and took his life. Forward then, and with God's help let us punish them for these iniquities !' The Norman army then set up a shout, and advanced within arrow-shot of the English, who were strongly posted behind their palisades and trenches ; the numerous archers and cross-bow men of the invaders sent a shower of arrows among their antagonists, most of which were deadened by the breastwork, and a furi- ous charge of Norman cavalry and foot succeeded, who endeavoured to force the redoubts. But the English, who were on foot, and in a solid, compact mass around their standard, received the onset with their ponderous battle-axes, which, wielded with both hands, shivered the long spears of the enemy, and hewed their shields and hauberks asunder. The Normans struggled despe- rately to tear up the palisades, and make good their entrance ; but, exhausted and unsuccessful, they were driven back upon the division which William com- manded. The duke then ordered his archers to advance again, and instead of shooting v.ith a level aim, to dis- charge their arrows with their utmost force into the air, that they might fall upon the heads of the English; this was done, and the deadly shower wounded many in the face. Harold himself lost an eye by an an-ow, but he still continued to fight, and give directions with undaunted vigour. Another terrible attack of horse and foot was now directed, like a tempest, against the entrenchments, and the Normans came on with the cry of ' Our Lady to help ! God be our help !' But they were encountered by the English, who shouted, ' God's rood! Christ's rood !' while their axes did such fearful execution, that their enemies were driv?n back to a great ravine, into WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 63 which horses and men tumbled pell-mell, and many were slain or smothered. Confusion now spread through the ranks of the Normans ; the cry arose that William himself had been slain, and \vhole ranks beg-an to fly at the alarm. The duke immediately threw himself before the fui^itives, shouting', and striking them with his lance. ' Here I am,' he cried — ' look at me — I live, and will conquer with God's help.' Again his splendid cavalry returned and charged up to the redoubts, but the close phalanx and indomitable valour of the English made this onset as ineffectual as the former. The duke now re- solved to allure the enemy from their defences, and for this purpose he ordered a thousand horse to advance, as if for an attack, and then suddenly to turn round with an appearance of flight. The stratagem succeeded. The English, eager to pursue, slung their heavy battle-axes roiind their necks, and rushed from their entrench- ments ; but they were instantly assaulted on all sides by horse and foot, with spears and swords and arrows ; their ranks were broken asunder and exterminated in detail, and the entrances to their camp being now unde- fended, the Normans entered pell-mell among the fugi- tives. All beyond this was a hopeless, but terrible death- struggle on the part of the English : they now grappled hand to hand with the enemy in the fury of despair. Wil- liam had his horse killed under him ; but Harold, who had gallantly fought in front of the men of Kent from morning' till evening, fell dead at the foot of his standard, while his two brave brothers, Gurth and Leofwin, perished by his side. The banner was then plucked from the ground, the consecrated standard was planted in its room, and the English, who prolonged the conflict till it was so dark that they could only recognise each other by speech, sought safety in flight. The Normans ventured to pur- sue, but in many instances the English turned upon them, and inflicted a severe though unavailing ven- geance for the slaughter of their countrymen. The in- vaders passed the night on the field of battle, and at sunrise William caused the roll to be called of the names of those chiefs who had followed him across the sea. But multitudes did not answer: they lay among the dying or the dead. The English wives, mothers, and children, wandered over the field, in quest of their kin- dred, after having implored permission of the conquerors. G4 MILITARY HISTORY. The monks of Waltham also carae to search for the body of Harold, and having paid ten marks of gold to Wil- liam for permission, they sought over the ground, but in vain— for the corpse had been so much mutilated with wounds, that they were unable to recognise it. It is said, that in this extremity they had recourse to Editha, surnamed the swan-necked, who had lived with Harold as his mistress before he became king, and that her affection enabled her at last to discover the defaced body of the man she had loved. William, instead of advancing towards London, after this decisive victory, fell back upon Hastings, whei'e he waited for some time, in the hope that the people would make a voluntary submission. But no one came to him ; and after having received reinforcements from Nor- mandy, he proceeded to ravage the coast, and destroy the town of Romney. The conqueror well knew that the real strength of England, so far from being prostrated, was but slightly injured by the battle of Hastings, and he therefore advanced with slow and cautious steps. From Romney he proceeded to Dover, the fortress of which he took and garrisoned; and after passing eight days there, he began his march towards London ; and passed through the county of Kent. Surrey, Sussex, and Hants, were in like manner traversed, while the path of the Normans was indicated by burning villages, and their massacred inhabitants. But in the capital there was still no word of surrender ; on the contrary, forces were raised that would have stood a fiercer conflict than that of Hastings, had Harold still lived, or even left a successor to command them. But unfortunately that spirit of division — that curse of ancient England through which every enemy successively triumphed, prevailed on this critical occasion. The brave brothers of Harold had died by his side ; his sons were too young to head the English ; and in this difficulty, Edgar the Atheling,* a nephew of the Confessor, a weak young man, whose claims had scarcely been thought of when Harold was elected, was dragged from his obscurity, and after much time lost in useless debating, he was proclaimed king of England. Edwin and Morcar, the brothers-in-law of the late monarch, were indignant at this choice ; and as they * Athclinsr or iEathcliiiff means illustrious. WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. C5 \vere by far the most powerful of the English chieftains, instead of heading the national resistance against Wil- liam, as they agreed to do, they retired to their govern- ments with their numerous followers, thinking they could defend the north of England, even if the rest should be conquered. Amidst all this selfishness and vacillation, the course of William was unchecked, so that he advanced upon London ; but finding himself still not strong enough to venture upon a siege, he encamped at Berkhamstead, in Hertfordshire, and cut off all supplies from the metropolis. London at last was starved into sun-euder, and a deputation of the chief nobles and pre- lates, with the Atheling at their head, repaired to Wil- liam with offers of submission and allegiance. Next day, the duke in consequence broke up his encampment, and marched towards the metropolis; but instead of entering it, he fortified himself without the city, and erected a fortress, on the spot where the Tower now stands. His coronation was fixed to take place at Christmas, which was only a few days after, and even upon this solemn occasion, an event occurred that was ominous of a reign of blood. The new abbey of Westminster, in which the victor was to be crowned, was filled with two hundred and sixty of his bravest chiefs, a numerous throng of priests, and many of the English nobles and prelates, who had been persuaded to form a part in the pageant; and when both Normans and English had expressed their assent that William should be king of England, all raised a joyous shout, indicating the heartiness of their choice. Rut the foreign cavalry stationed near the abbey being startled at the din, and supposing or pretending that this was the signal of insurrection, begun to fire the neigh- bouring houses, whilst others rushed to the abbey with drawn swords, to rescue the duke. Those within the building, Normans as well as English, were terrified at the sounds of this sudden tumult, and hurriedly fled from the scene, while William, trembling in every limb, was left with the archbishop of York, and a few terri- fied priests. Under these circumstances, the ceremonies of the coronation were hurried over as rapidly as pos- sible ; and the new sovereign, in addition to the usual oaths of the English kings, added, of his own accord, that he would treat the people as wtll as the best of their kings had done. William's lust measures, after this 63 MILITARY HISTORY, event, were marked by a show of great moderation. Edwin, Morcar, and the chief nobles of England, were left in undisturbed possession of their estates and ofBces ; Edgar Atheling was cherished as a peculiar favourite ; and in a prouress which William made through such parts of England as were now his own, he every where studied to conciliate the people by the affability and justice of his proceedings. The land was yet far from being conquered ; the eastern and western coasts, and the midland counties, were still untouched, and in the event of a revolt, might have crushed his unconfirmed sovereignty. But this promising state of matters soou changed. When the land had been bridled in every di- rection with fortresses, which was done in the course of a fe%v months, England was then made to feel the bitter fruits of the conquest. And first an enormous war- tribute was imposed upon the people ; and afterwards the estates of those Englishmen who had fallen at Hast- ings, were conferred upon the Norman warriors. Then followed the lands of those who had survived the con- flict ; and lastly, those men who had taken no share in the battle, were stripped of their possessions, because they had intended to resist the Normans. And now the promises which William had so largely made both to his Norman subjects and foreign auxiliaries, were executed to the full, and lordship-tenures, castles, and estates, Were bestowed upon captains, while those who had stipulated for Saxon brides received the well-dowried widows of those Englishmen who had fallen in the battle. The church property, too, was doomed to similar spolia- tion, and the swarms of monks and priests who had accompanied William's army were gratified with rich bishoprics and monasteries. ' Low-born squires, and filthy vagabonds,' say the English writers of this pe- riod, ' disposed at their will of young women of the best families, leaving them to weep, and wish for death. In- fatuated wretches ! they wondered at their deeds, and went mad with pride and astonishment, at finding them- selves so powerful, and having servants with greater wealth than their fathers had ever possessed. Whatever they willed, they thought they had the right to do ; and they shed blood in wantonness, snatched the last morsel from the mouths of the unfortunate, and seized every thing— money, goods, and land.' WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 67 Six months after William had landed at Pevensey, he set sail from the same port, for the purpose of visiting his native Normandy. Historians have been unable to a .Lount for this movement ; the common supposition is, that he purposely absented himself, in the hope that his ~L)ldit'rs, unrestrained by his presence, would madden - le Eniclish into rebellion, and thus justify his future ipressions. He took with him, besides his Normans, a uiultituJe of the English nobles, and on arriving- in Nor- mandy, his own subjects and the French were dazzled with the display of the rich spoils of the conquest ; and while all thronged to congratulate him, none were dis- missed unrewarded. If William's intention had been to goad the English into rebellion during his absence, his choice of viceroys was well fitted for the pui-pose : — these were Odo, the proud bishop of Bayeux, who had borne a distinguished share in the victory of Hastings, and William Fitz-Osbert, the seneschal of Normandy, of whom mention has been already made. These men 60 much exceeded the oppression even of William him- self, that the English, in despair, had recourse to an old enemy, to deliver them. They accordingly sent to that Eustace, count of Boulogne, who had made such havoc in Dover during the reign of the Confessor ; but now he was only remembered as the relation of king Edward, and the enemy of William, besides being a brave and skilful warrior. Eustace readily embarked at the sum- mons, and landed with a powerful force ; but in attempt- ing to surprise Dover castle, his second adventure at this quarter was more untoward than the first. The Norman garrison made a stout resistance, aud a false alama being raised that Odo was coming in full force to its relief, Eustace retreated so hurriedly to his shipping, that many of his followers, in their haste, fell from the cliflfs and perished. This insurrectionary movement was but a prelude to others, that began to extend through all the parts of England that were still unsubdued : upon which William, finding the time ripe for his return, embarked at Dieppe, in December (1067), and came to England. In London, he soothed the people with procla- mations, and by his promises of preserving the laws of the Confessor inviolate he separated the peaceful Eng- lish from the insurgents; after which, he set ofl' to sub- due the unconquered provinces. Exeter fell, chiefly 68 MILITARY HISTORY. through the cowardice or treachery of the English lead- ers, after a brave resistance ; Devonshire was then re- duced to subjection ; and soon afterwards, the wastes of Somerset and Gloucester were conquered, and parcelled out among the Normans. The northern provinces still remained free, and thither multitudes of the persecuted natives repaired for shelter from every part of England; while Edwin and Morcar, having formed an alliance with the Welsh, resolved to maintain the national inde- pendence over the country beyond the Humber, with the city of York for its chief bulwark. In the mean time William continued his progress of conquest, and the towns of Oxford, Warwick, Leicester, Derby, Nottingham, and Lincoln, fell into his hands. On the last of these captures, the Norman army advanced to the debateable land, and after overwhelming the confederated English and Welsh by superiority of numbers, they stormed the city of York, and put all the inhabitants to the sword. A strong Norman garrison was then placed in the city, while the dispirited patriots retired before the conque- rors, or fled for refuge to Scotland. York, however, con- tinued to be the advanced post of the conquest for a con- siderable time, and a post of uncei'tain tenure, until William threw forward a strong force under Robert Co- mine, to extend his line as far as Durham. The Norman leader marched unopposed ; he even entered Durham, and took up his quarters in the midst of fancied security. But at night, the banks of the Tyne and the neighbour- ing heights were lighted with watch-fires, by which the men of Northumberland were assembled, and at day- break they burst into the town, and assailed their ene- mies from every qiiarter. The surprised Normans made a desperate resistance in the streets, of the turnings and intricacies of which they were ignorant, and among the burning houses, that were fired over their heads ; but at last the conflict ended in the death of Comine, with 1200 men-at-arms, and at least five times that amount of foot-soldiers and attendants. This blow struck such ter- ror into the Normans, that a larger force, which was sent to revenge the slain, stopped short half-way between York and Durham, and refused to proceed. The English declared that good Saint Cuthbert had benumbed them with supernatural teiTors, in defence of his favourite city that contained his relics and his tomb. WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 69 Amiiist the strange mutations of fortune, those who had been the fiercest enemies, were now considered the chief hopes of the English. After this last exploit of the hardy inhabitants of the Danelagh, a fleet of two hun- dred and fifty ships, under the command of two sons and a brother of Sweyn, king of Denmark, came to attempt the deliverance of England, for the sake of their kins- men of Northumbria. But the coast was more strongly guarded now than in the days of their fathers, so that they were beaten off by the Normans from every point at which they attempted a landing. They then entered the mouth of the Humber, where they were welcomed and joined by multitudes of the English, and all pressed forward to York, the siege of which they immediately commenced. On the eighth day of the siege, the Nor- man garrison, apprehensive that the suburban houses would be used by the English and Danes for filling up the trenches, imprudently set fire to them ; the flames communicated to the town, and opened a way for the besiegers, who carried the place, and slaughtered several thousands of the Normans ; after which, the fortifications were razed to the ground. Edgar the Atheling, who had fled to- Scotland with the refugees, was now made king at York, and his sway extended over the whole country from the Humber to the Tweed. Thus England was at present divided into two kingdoms, with two rival and independent sovereigns. But it required no uncommon prescience to foretell which of them would be the victor. William swore a tremendous oath, that he would not rest until he had massacred all the Northum- brians ; and he commenced preparations to accomplish his vow. He first tampered with the Danish leader, whose departure from England he purchased with a large sum ; he then so eflectually cajoled the English of the conquered districts, that they were persuaded to remain neuter in the approaching contest ; and having thus de- prived the insurgents of every ally, he suddenly ap- peared before York with a large army, just as the Danish fleet had taken its departure. York was taken after a terrible slaughter of the English, and Edgar Atheling, with all who survived the storm, fled to the court of Malcolm Canmore. William now fulfilled his vow with remorseless fidelity, for Northumbria was laid waste, and converted into a desert, and the inhabitants were 70 MILITARY HISTORY, massacred without distinction of a^e or sex. Cumber- land and Westmoreland after this period were conquered, and occupied by William's captains, and the English leaders, who had struggled to the last, were now obliged to acknowledge the hopelessness of resistance. Waltheof, Gospatric, Morcar, Edwin, and even Edgar himself, the last of the royal Saxon line, and the darling of the English, threw aside their swords in despair, and swore fealty to the Conqueror. The only relic of English inde- pendence was the town of Chester, and its surrounding district, which as yet had remained unvisited by the Norman soldiery ; but even this small portion was speedily annexed to the conquest. William crossed the chain of hills that extends from south to north by ways hitherto reckoned impracticable for cavalry, and after surmount- ing such difficulties, Chester easily fell into his hands. Thus, by the year 1071, the whole of England from the Tweed to the Land's End, and from the English Channel to the Severn, was reduced to the Norman yoke. And miserable was now the condition of the wretched Eng- lish. The lands and possessions which they had inhe- rited from a long line of illustrious ancestry were given to the counts and knights who had aided in the conquest, so that while base foreigners and men of low degree were suddenly elevated into rank and wealth, the lords of the soil were converted into serfs, and their wives and daughters became the degraded menials of the victors. And still it was useless for the sufferers to complain, for William either would not or dared not check those op- pressors, upon whose swords he still depended for the secure possession of England. All therefore who prefer- red expatriation to bondage, and who still possessed the means of escape, fled to Wales, to Scotland, or the Con- tinent; and a large body of English, under the conduct of Siward, emigrated to Constantinople, where, having offered their services to the Greek emperor Alexis, they were enrolled as his body guards, under the name of Varangis, and gained a high name for fidelity and va- lour. Many others of the dispossessed retired with their dependants into the forests, and under the name of Out- laws subsisted upon the plunder of the Normans, which had once been their own property. In this way, numer- ous bands arose in the ' gay greenwood' of merry Eng- land—men who spoiled the rich Nonnans, and shared WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 71 tlie booty with the famishing Eng-lislitnen. These out- laws, although they were called robbers by the tyrants, were dear to the recollections of the English, so that such men as Robin Hood received a celebrity equal to that of the great national heroes. As yet there was also a little camp at Ely, where Hereward le Wake had established a sanctuary for the few remains of English freedom ; and to this place many repaired who felt the dominion of the foreigners intolerable, and thought it better to die resisting, than to linger out their lives in bondage. But this last hc^e of the English was de- stroyed by the capture of Ely, and the surrender of Hereward, after which William crossed the Tweed, and pursued the English who had taken shelter in Scotland, with the hope of still making head against their enemy. Malcolm Canmore was too weak to resist this invasion, and he accordingly agreed to abandon the cause of the English exiles, and live in alliance with the Conqueror. When thus all fear of resistance was at an end, William once more crossed the sea, to take possession of Maine, which had been bequeathed to him by the late Count of that province ; and, to enforce his claim, he carried with him an army of Englishmen, whom he had persuaded to march under his banner. These men, in the bitterness of iheir hearts, considered the inhabitants of Maine as Normans, from the similarity of their lan- guage ; and in this idea, as soon as the resistance of the province commenced, they wasted the country with fire and sword, until they made it as wretched as Eng- land itself. Bat while V.'illiam was warring success- fully abroad, a conspiracy was forming in England, that threatened the loss of all his acquisitions. Roger, lord of Hereford, the youngest son of that Fitz-Osbert who had incited William to the conquest of England, had contracted a marriage for his sister with the earl of Norfolk ; hut this alliance displeased the king, and he sent an order from Normandy that the agreement should be annulled. But the son of Fitz-Osbert, setting this prohibition at nought, assembled a large party of Nor- mans, Saxons, and Welsh, at the town of Norwich, to grace the marriage festival. There the wine flowed freely, and the heated guests began to speak indig- nantly of William's mandate, till from this topic they soon proceeded to more general grievances. The Nor- 72 MILITARY HISTORY. mans branded their lord as a bastard unworthy to bear rule, and a tyrant to those who had helped him to his throne ; the Bretons charged him with poisoning- their beloved count Conan ; the Saxons proclaimed him a usurper, who had put their lords to death, or driven them into banishment ; and all at last agreed, that the ruin of their common enemy would be a most desirable event, Normans and Saxons were now iusjnred with one feeling of hatred against the Conqueror, and a con- spiracy was formed by both parties to exclude him from the throne of England. Waltheof, of Northumbria, who had been reconciled to William, and had received the hand of Judith, the king's niece, became the head of the English party in this conspiracy, and agreed to join the lord of Hereford, and the Norman barons, with all the followers he could muster. But the good fortune of the absent William still prevailed. When Hereford had collected his forces, and set out to meet the other conspirators, he was completely checked in attempting the passage of the Severn by a strong army, chiefly composed of Englishmen, who were now ready to fight in the cause of William. In another quarter, the earl of Norfolk, the most aggrieved of the conspirators, who had assembled an army chiefly con- sisting of English soldiers, was attacked and completely defeated at Fagadon, by Odo, bishop of Bayeux ; and the conquerors cut off" the right foot of every one of their prisoners, whether English or Norman. After these events, William returned to England to pass judgment upon the conspirators. Norfolk, who had fled the king- dom, was deprived of all his English possessions, and Hereford, who was a prisoner, was condemned to lose all his lands, and be confined for life in one of the royal fortresses The fate of this person, to whose father William was so greatly indebted, is of peculiar interest. Upon an Easter, William sent the captive a splendid suit of raiment, according to the custom of the Norman court, as if he had been still free ; but Roger of Here- ford having examined the rich apparel, piece by piece, ordered a fire to be made, into which he deliberately threw the whole present. * By the splendour of God,' cried the king, when he heard how his gift had been received, * that man shall never more see the light of the sun.' The English exulted in the ruin of the son WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 73 mJ son-in-law of William Fitz-Osbert, the man from whom the Norman invasion had chiefly originated, and who was, therefore, accounted the main source of all t'liL-ir national miseries. The fate of W^altheofjthe son of the great Siward, the c nqueror of Macbeth, and now the last hope of England, v.as of a still more melancholy description. Although he had been privy to the late conspiracy, he had not tuken part in the rising, and therefore he was spared for the present. But his doom was not the less certain because it was delayed ; and soon after (a. d. 1074;, when a Danish fleet appeared upon the coast, without daring to hazard a descent, Waltheof was accused of having invited it to England. It was in vain that the earl repelled the accusation : the charge was supported ijy his shameless Norman wife, Judith, whom he had received as the pledge of the king's friendship. He was confined for nearly a year ; and then, after a hurried trial, sentence of death was passed upon him, chiefly by those who coveted the three counties over which he ruled. So much, however, was he beloved by the English, that the sentence was executed in the town of A\ inchester, at the earliest dawn, while the inhabitants vere still asleep ; and the people, who were too late to save him, regarded his death as a martyrdom, and en- rolled him among their saints. So perished the last chief of the English race by a Norman executioner. As for the infamous Judith, she was confirmed in the possession of all her murdered husband's extensive domains ; but when she was about to choose for herself a second mate, one for the love of whom she was sup- posed to have sacrificed the virtuous Waltheof, she found that the king, her uncle, had anticipated her pur- pose. There was one Simon of Senlis, a brave soldier, but lame and ill-made, whom William intended to enrich with the widow and possessions of W^altheof ; but when the lady heard of this purpose, she treated both it and the proposed partner with immeasurable disdain. William, indignant at her refusal, deprived her of all her husband's estates, with which he endowed Simon of Senlis, upon the easier tenure of furnishing shoes for the king's horses ; while Judith, suddenly re- duced tct poverty, lingered out her life for years, amidst the scorn and abhorrence of all parties. E 74 MILITARY HISTORY. William had now conquered England, tamed A. u. the Welsh, and suppressed the Scots; but it 1077-9- v^-as amidst all this power and prosperity that circumstances arose by which the rest of his life was to be imbittered. On his first departure from Normandy, his hopes of winning England had been so strong, that be had promised the succession of the duchy to his eldest son Robert, to the great satisfaction of the inhabitants ; but when the kingdom of England was fully won, William showed no inclination to relin- quish his Norman possessions, although Robert was now grown to man's estate ; and the young prince, who was brave, high-spirited, and ambitious, on demanding the promised dukedom of his father, received this homely and decisive reply — ' Son, I do not purpose to throw off my clothes till I go to bed.' The disappointed Robert digested this answer in moody silence, until a trivial cir- cumstance produced the crisis. One day, when William and his nobles were staying in the town of L'Aigle, in Normandy, the two younger sons of the king took pos- session of Robert's lodging, and as he was passing in the court below, they threw a bason of water upon his head, in thoughtless sport. The prince, in a rage at what he considered a premeditated insult, drew his sword, and ran up stairs, vowing a bloody revenge upon his brothers, and the king had much difficulty in calming the tumult. Robert indignantly left the court the same night, crossed the border of Normandy, and found refuge with his father's enemies ; but, after a short period, he was per- suaded to return by the solicitations of his mother. But the discontented followers of William rallied round the young prince, and stirred him up against the king, whom they represented as an avaricious old man, re- solved to keep all within his own grasp ; and instigated bj' these evil counsellors, Robert again demanded the dukedom of Normandy, which was still refused, with the admonition to dismiss his associates, and adopt the good and wise archbishop Lanfranc for his adviser. ' Father,' cried the youth fiercely, at this advice, ' I came to demand my right, and not to hear you preach : I had homilies in plenty, and long ones too, when I was learning my grammar.' He repeated his question, whether he should be allowed the duchy of Normandy, or, at least, an independent govemixent over Sbme part WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 75 of Ensrland ; but when William peremptorily answered, ' that he would neither resign his own patrimonial ter- ritory, nor yet a portion of his hard- won conquest,' the prince finally exclaimed, ' Well, I will go and become a soldier among strangers : from them perhaps I shall obtain the justice which my father refuses.' He imme- diately flung away from the royal presence, and began to execute his threats, wandering from coimty to county, and from province to province, every where complaining of his wrongs. After some time had been spent in this kind of en'antry, his cause was espoused by Philip, the king of France, who eacablished Robert in the castle of Gerberoy, upon the borders of Normandy. Adven- turers, who lived by the lance and sword, now flocked to the prince, as they had flocked in fonner years to his father, while throngs of Noj-mans, the friends of William, and even many of his own household, repaired to Gerberoy, and swore allegiance to Robert. This act of desertion cut the Conqueror to the heart, and aggravated the guilt of his son. ' The traitor J' he exclaimed — ' he has seduced my men — my own scholars, whom I taught to light ; whom I fed with my bread, and clothed with knightly armour.' The most active measures were now required, to save Normandy from falling into the hands of Robert and the French king ; but amidst the general treachery that prevailed, William was obliged to raise an English army, to make war upon his rebellious son. He crossed the channel with his usual activity, and invested the castle of Gerberoy ; but the siege was protracted, in conse- quence of the stubborn resistance of the garrison, and many of his soldiers were killed in various sorties. Upon one of these occasions an incident occurred that reminds us of the romantic character of the age. Robert, who was a gallant knight, happened, in the heat of conflict, to engage a warrior of the other party. Both combatants were equally strong and determined, and both completely concealed in the panoply which they wore ; but after a fierce combat, the prince wounded and unhorsed his antagonist. The fallen knight shouted to his companions for aid, and Robert discovered from the voice, that it was his father he had overthrown. He dismounted immediately, raised his parent, and craved pardon upon his knees, with tears, at the same 76 MILITARY HISTORY. time supplying him with his own horse ; but William, unmoved by this penitence, discharged a bitter curse upon his son's head, and rode off. The king was obliged to raise the siege, and retire to Rouen. Here however his wife, his friends, and the Norman bishops, laboured to procure a reconciliation between him and the prince, and after long importunity he gave a reluctant assent. Robert was admitted into the royal presence, where he asked pardon upon his knees, after which he accom- panied the king to England. But no return of affection was manifested upon the part of the iron-hearted William ; and Robert, suspicious that the reconciliation was insincere, fled for the third time, followed by the curses of his father, whom he never saw again. Domestic calamities still continued to imbitter the last years of the Conqueror, notwithstanding the absence of his eldest son. Odo, bishop of Bayeux, William's uterine brother, who had fought so bravely at the battle of Hastings, and aided the work of the conquest, had been made earl of Kent, and was the most powerful sub- ject in England ; but not content with this, he aspired at a separate dominion, by intriguing for the popedom. The king, who detected this conspiracy (a. d. 10S2), arrested the warlike prelate, and imprisoned him in a dungeon in Normandy. Shortly after this affair, Ma- tilda, the wife of the Conqueror, to whom he was fondly attached, paid the debt of nature ; and his sense of this bereavement was exhibited by increasing moroseness of temper, and deeper distrust of his captains and coun- sellors. As if the alienation and absence of his first- born had not also been sufficient, his two remaining sons, William and Henry, became jealous of each other, and brawled about the succession while their father was still alive. But the most tragical domestic affliction which William sustained, arose from one of his worst acts of oppression. Like the other rough, unlearned potentates of the period, he was so addicted to hunting, that he was said, by the English, to love the wild beasts of the chase as if he had been their father ; and to enjoy this sport in perfection, he had dispeopled and laid waste an immense portion of Hampshire, which was converted into a hunting ground, and stocked with all kinds of game. In this place, called the New Forest, his second son, Richard, while engaged in hunting, was gored to WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 77 death by a stag. The English annalists have exulted in this incident, as the first of a series of judgments inflicted in the same place upon the descendants of the tyrant, for such a wanton act of oppression. The close of William's career was now at hand. The country called Vexin, situated between the Epte and the Oise, was ground equally claimed by Philip of France and the king of England ; and the latter, who had crossed the sea with a large army, at the end of the year 1086, for the recovery of the disputed territory, first tried the effect of a negotiation with his rival. During the course of the treaty, William, who of late years had grown corpulent, notwithstanding his love of hunting, was confined to his bed with sickness; and Philip, upon this occasion, observed that his cousin of England was a long time lying-in, and no doubt would have a glorious churching when he had brought forth. This coarse joke stung William to the quick, and he swore by the splen- dour of God that he would hold his churching at Notre Dame, in Paris, with ten thousand lances instead of tapers. But, in spite of this boast, he was unable to rise till the end of July in the following year ; and then he marched forward, burning and destroying the whole countr\-, until he came to the town of Mantes, which he soon took, and ordered to be set on fire. The vindic- tive tyrant then rode up to the walls to feast his eyes with the conflagration ; but his horse having stepped among some hot ashes, plunged with the pain, and William was sorely bruised by the pommel of the saddle — an accident which his gross habit of body made fatal. He soon felt that he must die, and therefore he caused himself to be can-ied to the monastery of St. Gervas, that he might make his end in a holy place, while priests and monks were summoned to his bedside to smooth his passage into eternity. He ordered the churches of Mantes which he had destroyed to be rebuilt ; he ap- pointed large sums of money to be sent to churches and monasteries in England ; and caused his Norman and English captives to be set at liberty, some of whom had languished in prison for more than twenty years. A day or two before he died, there v/as a mustering and throng- ing of his sons and nobles to learn his will upon the succession. The still absent Robert was confirmed in the duchy of Normandy, and his son William was to 78 MILITARY HISTORY. succeed him as king of Engrland ; while to Henry, the youngest, he bequeathed five thousand pounds of silver. Prince William immediately left the couch of his dying father, and posted off to England ; while Henry departed at the same time, to weigh his silver, and provide him- self with a strong chest to keep it safe. As soon as the forsaken father breathed his last sigh (which was on the 0th of September, 1087), the event was the signal for universal desertion — nobles, knights, priests, physicians, all fled from the lifeless clay to join in the new scramble for place and profit, while the servants, to fill up the measure of ingratitude, plundered the royal apartment of every thing it contained, and then fled like the rest, leaving the dead body lying almost naked upon the bare boards. At last, some of the priests, either through shame or charity, bethought them of the dead about three hours after; but when arrangements were proposed about the burial, not one of all the kindred and friends of William was at hand to undertake the charges of this last office, until a poor knight of the neighbourhood undertook to bear them for good-will and the love of God. The body was then removed to Caen for sepulture ; but just as the procession had commenced, a sudden fire broke out in the town, and so many of the train ran to extinguish it, that only a few monks were left to follow the corpse. Even yet this terrible sermon to kings and conquerors was not ended. When at last the body had been carried to the grave, and the mass pei-formed, just as the corpse was about to be lowered, a voice from the crowd exclaimed — ' Hold ! this ground is mine : the dead king took it from me by violence, and in the name of God I forbid you to bury him in my glebe.' The bystanders confirmed the man's declarations, and sixty shillings were immediately paid for the grave. But when they proceeded to use it, they found that it had been made too narrow, a fault that could not no%v be repaired, as it was constructed of mason-work ; and in their hasty eflTorts to accomplish the act of burial, the body, which was without a cofiin, burst asunder. The spectators and attendants fled in horror, and the priests, after a few maimed prayers and a plentiful burning of incense, hurried over the ceremony and fled with the rest. The character of him who accomplished so important and permanent a conquest, and whose descendants still WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 79 occupy the throne of England, is worthy of attention. The Conqueror was of lofty stature, and possessed such ^treng•th that none but himself could bend his bow ; he ■ as unmatched in every warlike exercise, and there was i sternness in his countenance upon which few could look without awe. Without these qualities, it would have been impossible in such an iron age to obtain an ascendancy in society. But -with these mere phy- sical advantages, William, as we have seen from his actions, possessed a wonderful depth of political sagacity as Avell as military skill, that placed him beyond the competition of his age ; so that his art in controlling and persuading men often made him victorious where arms would have failed. Still, however, it must be acknow- ledged, that few conquerors have owed more to fortune- In attempting the invasion of England, success or de- struction was the only alternative ; and the adventure depended upon numerous contingencies, a failure in the least of which would have ensured his overthrow. William was also a devout man, according to the devotion inculcated in that age ; so that, however busied he might be with deeds of fraud and massacre, he en- dowed monasteries, and heard mass every morning. But the energetic stand which he made against papal en- croachment, was one of the few events in hi.s history that merited the gratitude of England. Hildebrand, after- wards Gregory VII., one of the ablest of those who have filled the chair of St. Peter, imagined, that as the pope had sanctioned the Norman invasion, therefore England should be considered a fief of the Holy See. In this idea, he demanded of William, not only the payment of Peter's pence, but also feudal homage for the possession of the kingdom. The answer of William, at a time when kings and emperors were ready to hold the papal stirrup, was stern and decisive. The tax he was ready to pay, because it had been of long establishment; but as for the homage, no king of England bad ever rendered it, and therefore he would not. This reply formed so in- spiriting an example to future English sovereigns, that they held out against this ghostly tyranny when other monarchs had succumbed, and thereby they paved the way for that glorious Reformation by which England became completely free. 80 MILITARY HISTORY. HEREWARD LE WAKE. We gladly turn from the example of successful am- bition, exhibited in the history of William the Con- queror, to one of generous and devoted, though unsuc- cessful, patriotism, as illustrated in the life of Hereward le Wake. This gallant hero, who so bravely resisted the Norman usurpation, aiid whose name was for ages so fondly cherished by his countrymen, only needed more ample means to have become the Bruce or the Tell of his enslaved country. Hereward was the son of Leofi-ic, lord of Brunne, in Lincolnshire, a nobleman of warlike reputation ; and in his boyish days, which were passed under the reign of Edward the Confessor, he exhibited such traits of cha- racter as were frequently deemed essential for heroes in that early age. He was distinguished beyond his con- temporaries for strength, stature, and beauty ; he de- lighted in all active and military exercises; and such was his enthusiasm for superiority, that he often drew bis sword upon those whom he was unable to overcome in sportive conflicts. On account of this ferocity, the youths of his own age dreaded and shunned him ; and, in consequence of their loud complaints, Leofric, his father, went to the court of Edward, and procured an order for Hereward's banishment from England. Upon this, the young Anglo-Saxon, in the true spirit of the period, set off in quest of adventures, in the course of which he visited Ireland, and afterwards Flanders. As conflicts were in abundance wherever he came, he never failed to be a partaker ; and such was the bravery he displayed on every occasion, that his name was widely lauded as a hardy and successful warrior. At length, he married in Flanders a noble lady called Turfrida, by whom he had a daughter ; and as his deeds of prowess were now the chief subjects of English songs, the dislike of his parents, friends, and kindred, which had formerly been so strong against him, was exchanged for the most ardent affection. It was during this interval that the events of the Norman conquest took place, and many of the English amidst their miseries turned a longing eye towards HEREWARD LE WAKE. 81 Flauders, the residence of their favourite hero. Several of the emigrants fled to him, and informed him not only of the general suffering's, but also that his father was lead, that his paternal property had become the spoil of > Norman nobleman, and that his aged mother was driven out and exposed to the insults of the domineering strangers. Hereward, at these tidings, returned to England in secret, mustered a band of his friends, and inflicted a terrible retaliation upon those who had in- vaded his inheritance and insulted his mother. As he had thus boldly proclaimed war against the enemy, it was necessary to continue it in self defence; he there- fore carried on a flying warfare in the neighbourhood of his residence, and defeated several strong bands of the Norman knights and noblemen that ventured to oppose him. These deeds delighted the English in- surgents who had taken shelter in the islands of Ely and Thorney, so that they invited the successful adven- turer to become their leader. Hereward acceded to their request, and repaired to their place of refuge with his followers ; but before he could assume so important a command, it was necessary that he should receive the order of knighthood, with which he had not yet been invested. He therefore obtained this honour according to the institutions of Anglo-Saxon chivalry. He repaired to the abbey of Peterborough, in the neighbourhood of the isle of Ely, where his uncle Brand, the abbot, con- fessed and absolved him ; after which he passed a night of vigil in the church, and on the morning heard mass, and laid his sword upon the altar, where it was blessed by the priest, and solemnly bound round his neck with sacred benedictions. Thus Hereward le Wake, in the language of his countrymen, was made a 'legitimate soldier,' and privileged to command in any rank. This religious form of investment was sneered at by the haughty Normans, who declared that no man whose sword had been girt by a long-gowned priest could be a true knight. The abbot Brand died a short time after this event, and thus escaped the punishment with which he would have been visited for having knighted a rebel. At this period there was in England a fierce Norman abbot, called Torauld of Fescamp, who ruled his monks by E 2 82 MILITARY HISTORY. martial law, and attacked them at the head of his men- at-arms when they demurred upon any point of convent tliscipline. As Peterborough, from its neighbourhood to the isle of Ely, was an outpost of great danger, William, who had heard of this warlike priest, resolved that he sliould enjoy sufficient opportunities of fighting, and pro- moted him to the vacant abbacy. But Torauld knew that it was safer to make war upon monks than soldiers, and therefore he approached the neighbourhood of the terrible Hereward with fear and trembling, at the head of a hundred and sixty well-armed Normans. To his great delight, he reached the abbey unharmed, and was admitted by the inmates; after which, he entered into an agreement with his neighbour, Ivo Taillebois, lord of Spalding, to form an expedition against le Wake. They mustered their forces, and set out accordingly ; but the priest cautiously kept in the rear, while the van- guard under Taillebois plunged into a forest of willows in search of the enemy. In the mean time, Hereward, who had seen the whole arrangement from his hiding- place, emerged from the wood on the other side, and fetching a short compass, he suddenly darted upon the abbot and his whole company, carried them off prisoners, and kept them in the fens until they had paid three thousand marks for their ransom. After this, William having suppressed his other ene- mies, resolved to bend his whole force to the reduction of Ely, and therefore he invested the Saxon camp on every side, both by land and water. He threw dykes and bridges over the marshes, and one great work in which he particularly trusted was a raised causeway, three thousand paces in length, over lakes covered with flags and rushes. As its formidable approach threatened ruin to the besieged, Hereward checked it by daily and hourly attacks ; upon which Taillebois, finding that he could not protect it by his soldiers, resolved on a more effectual means of defence. He sent for a noted witch, who was solemnly mounted on a high wooden tower in front of the work, from which, like Balaam, she could behold and curse the whole Saxon encampment. But Hereward, who watched his time, suddenly set fire to the dry reeds, and in a few moments the wooden tower, the witch, the workmen, and the Norman guard, were consumed in the flames. HERE WARD LE WAKE. 8S After this success, the defence of Ely was A D. maintained for several months, and more than 1072- one defeat held the numerous enemies of the in- trepid English at bay. But the small numbers iTid scanty resources of the patriots could only retard, itbout effectually preventing, the advance of the over- helming forces of the Normans, conducted as they were v the choicest military science of the age, and the little i land was soon so closely blockaded that no supplies could enter. The severities of famine were therefore a.ifled to the other hardships of the English; and, at last, their ruin was accomplished by traitors belonging to their own encampment. In Ely, there was, unfor- tunately, a convent of monks, to whom the want of pro- visions was more serious than the loss of liberty ; and to free themselves from such penance, they privately offered William a safe entrance into the camp, on con- dition that their property should be respected. The Norman gladly closed with this proposal, and their treasonable design was fulfilled. The forces of William entered unexpectedly by a secret passage which the monks had pointed out, slew a thousand of the English, and followed up their success so quickly, that the garrison was compelled to surrender. Even then Hereward re- fused to lay down his arms. After resisting to the last, he retreated with a few of his brave companions through marshy and dangerous paths, where the enemy did not dare to follow, and at length reached Lincoln in safety. In the neighbourhood there was a Norman military post, and this Hereward was determined to surprise. A Saxon fisherman, who had been accustomed to supply the garrison and count Guy, their commander, with fish, received the hero and his brave companions into his boats, covered them carefully over with straw, and then rowed to the usual landing-place. The soldiers received the boatmen without suspicion, and afterwards went to feast in their tents, when Hereward and his followers suddenly started from their ambush, rushed upon the enemy with their battle-axes, and slew nearly the whole of them on the spot. The fate of the brave defenders of Ely who had fallen into the hands of the enemy, was such as might hare been expected from the Conqueroi". Some had their 84 MILITARY HISTORY. limbs mutilated, aftei- which they were suffered to wander at large in derision ; others were imprisoned in various castles in England ; the venerable bishops, and Stigand, their heroic primate, who had abode by the falling fortunes of their people, and found protection in the camp of Hereward, were imprisoned for life, as pirates who had disturbed the public peace. As for the traitor monks of Ely, they also had their reward. In spite of their previous stipulation, a military ganison was quartered upon them ; and when they complained of this violation, they were coolly told that Ely must be guarded. At length, they proposed to purchase exemp- tion from the maintenance of the soldiers with the sum of seven hundred marks ; but, after they had stripped their church to make up the amount, the Norman lord, on weighing the money, found that it fell short by a drachm, upon which he condemned them to pay three hundred marks more as an atonement. Even after they had paid a thousand marks, they were so far from being suifered to sit down in peace, that royal commission- ers were sent to strip the convent of whatever it still possessed, and divide the abbey land into military fiefs, while the houseless and bereaved monks found none to pity them, either among their countrymen whom they had basely sold, or the enemy to whom they had be- trayed them. In the mean time, the indomitable Hereward, still free and still struggling for the deliverance of England, continued his warfare against the Normans. With his flying party, he rapidly traversed the country, falling upon the enemy when least expected, and cutting off their parties in detail. But, although many brave men, to whom the liberty of England was dearer than life, continued to repair to his standard, no army could be assembled to strike a decisive blow ; and he was at length convinced, that it was not by a mere partisan warfare that such enemies as the Normans could be vanquished. William, also, who could shed the blood of ordinary men in torrents without remorse, was charmed with the sight of a valour and perseverance so much like his own, and he accordingly offered such terms as the brave patriot was justified in accepting. Hereward le Wake, therefore, abandoned his resistance, and ob- THE NORMANS. 85 taiiied not only the roj'al pardon, but his paternal in- heritance ; and after tliis, he continued to live feared and respected, and died in peace. From the multitude of songs made in praise of Here- "»vard, not only by Saxon, but even Norman minstrels, and the number of victories he gained over such power- ful enemies, we can learn, even though the outline which history has left is so defective, that he was a hero of no common stamp. In him, the most heroic daring seems to have been combined with a circumspection that ensured success to the most difficult of his efforts ; and, with more enlarged resources, it is easy to imagine that he might have become the universal rallying point, and at last the successful deliverer, of his enslaved countrymen. CHAP. III. From the Accession of William Ru/us to the Death of Henry the Second. Of all the warlike nations distinguished in the middle ages, the greatest and most renowned were incontestibly the Normans. In their earliest history, we find them only a horde of piratical Danes, cruising the seas in quest of plunder; and afterwards, a tribe of invaders, seeking settlements in more congenial climates than their own. In this latter capacity, we have had occasion to notice their landings in England during the govern- ment of the Saxon monarchs, and the wild destruction with which their course was accompanied. That portion of the marauders which settled in Normandy soon felt the effects of the civilization of France, and made a generous attempt to rival it; and, for this purpose, they abandoned not only their native dress and manners, but even their language and religion. They adopted the French tongue and the Christian faith— the speech of courtesy, and the creed of humanity and love. This sacrifice, so new in the history of a people, was followed by its reward. Their spirit of fearless, energetic enter- prise, instead of being diminished, was elevated and confirmed, so that they soon outstripped their instruc- tors ; and, at the period of tbe conquest of England, their deeds had made them famous as a nation of con- 88 MILITARY HISTORY, querors. Even in those countries into which they came as wanderers or as exiles, they soon vindicated their natural superiority, and became the leaders and princes of those people from whom they had sought protection and a home. Such a race was particularly needed in England, not only to infuse a fresh spirit into the population, but to form a talented and high-spirited aristocracy for the country. The truth of this is apparent from the history of the Anglo-Saxons. With all their hardihood and bravery in war, thej' were almost continually defeated or subdued, unless an Alfred or an Athelstane happened to be at their head. But it more frequently happened that their kings were imbecile or cowardly, and their councils weak or divided ; and that their chiefs were more ready to purchase an inglorious peace than to win it in the field at the head of their hardy followers. No- thing, indeed, could be more besotted and contemptible than the character of the Anglo-Saxon thanes for more than a century before the Norman invasion. It was full time, therefore, that such leaders should be supplanted ; and when their honours and possessions passed into the hands of foreigners, it was a transference to those who were far better able to maintain them. The sufterings occasioned to the people at large, during this process of transference, mitil the Normans and Saxons were fused into one people, were inevitable evils resulting from so great a change as the conquest and regeneration of a whole kingdom. When William conquered England, the land, accord- ing to the established law of conquest, became his own propei'ty ; and as he had promised, at his landing, that it should belong to his followers as well as himself, he fulfilled his promise according to the principles of the feudal system. The chief lords and barons who had aided him in the conquest were gratified with a share of the spoils, in the shape of rich manors and broad terri- tories ; for which, however, they were bound to render him obedience and military service. These magnates, thus exalted into barons and princes, rewarded their personal followers in the same manner, by bestowing upon them knighthoods, farms, and immunities, accord- ing to their rank, for which they were to render military duty to the giver. Thus the soil of Enghuul was gra- THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. 87 diKilly divided and subdivided, all tbe holders recog- nising the king as the primary object of allegiance; and when the royal standard was set up, the earls, the barons, and the knights, all summoned their respective military contingents, and repaired with their followers to the royal muster. As each great lord could on this principle assemble a formidable army of his own retain- ers, it was necessary that the royal power should always possess the means of permanent authority to repress any ambitious and overgrown vassal, and therefore William retained as his own share of the conquest 1422 manors, and the principal towns of the kingdom. It was also with offices as with property : the king had his senes- chals, constables, marshals, and chamberlains, who were rewarded with imposts and salaries ; and a similar esta- blishment was formed by the chief barons, whose do- mestic officers, in consideration of tolls and other feudal privileges, were bound to follow their superior to the field, or aid in the defence of his castle at home. Thus, in an aggressive war, the king summoned his nobles, and the nobles their feudal inferiors, and every fighting man was mustered under his respective leader, armed according to his station, and ready to do military duty for forty days; while, in the event of an invasion, every county, town, and village, was garrisoned by its military esta- blishment and feudal superioi". The Norman conquest, besides introducing this provi- sion for the national warfare, made important changes also in the modes of fighting, and the weapons of the English. We have seen that the latter were chiefly a nation of foot-soldiers, while their favourite weapon was the heavy battle-axe. But in consequence of the chival- rous habits of the Normans, a splendid cavalry was now considered the main arm of the national array ; and this force was composed of those who held a knight's fee, of which there were above 60,000 in England, as appears by the Doomsday-book. As for the commons, or native English, the conquerors armed them with the long bow, a weapon whose deadly efficacy was shown at the battle of Hastings; and in the use of which they made such proficiency, that most of the important battles in which the nation afterwards engaged, were gained by the ' cloth-yard shaft.' The English indeed seem to have readily adopted the change— and iiot the less, per- 88 MILITARY HISTORY. haps, because their arrows could bring down the king's deer, or even transfix the mailed breasts of their Nor- man oppressors. Thus the best archers of the land were to be found in the royal forests, among the Robin Hoods of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Nothing could be more careful also than the training of the yeomanry in the practice of archery. The boy at seven years old was furnished with a bow and arrows proportioned to his strength ; as he grew older, these weapons were replaced by heavier ; and thus at manhood, he could manage with ease a bow which others were unable even to bend, and discharge the arrow with a force and preci- sion, and to a distance, that would appear impossible to modern toxophilites. Every village, in process of time, was furnished with its shooting ground ; days are set apart for exercises and competitions in archery ; and while all the male inhabitants above a certain age were required to attend and practise at these musters under a heavy penalty, prizes were bestowed upon the most skilful. The Norman invasion was productive of great benefit not only to England, but to the neighbouring kingdom of Scotland ; and the advantages which the latter en- joyed were not only more immediate, but also unmixed with the evils of conquest. The Anglo-Saxons fled north- ward in thousands, and found shelter and homes upon the Scottish plains, under the wise administration of Malcolm Canmore ; and throngs of Norman knights and barons, who were discontented with the oppressive exac- tions of William, renounced their allegiance, and sought ser\ice in the court of Malcolm. The Scottish king re- ceived these experienced warriors gladly, and gave them lands and possessions in the north ; and thus they be- came the founders of those illustrious families who, for centuries after, defended the counti-y against the Nor- man aggressors of the south. In this way also originated that bitter hostility between the English and Scots, al- though children of the same parents, which whole cen- turies could scarcely eflace. While a Norman aristo- cracy and Anglo-Saxon peasantry colonized the lowlands of Scotland, the bond between these rival races was of a far different character to that which subsisted in Eng- land. Both had entered Scotland as fugitives, after smarting under a common tyranny ; the Norman chiefs gained their laud, not by conquest, but meritorious ser- RUFUS- WARS WITH HIS BROTHERS. 89 Tices ; and therefore, while the English of the south preserved for ages their rancorous feelings against the remotest descendants of their Nomiau masters, and were ever ready to rebel against them, the Scottish low- landers loved their landlords with a depth of affection that became proverbial, and this devotedness formed the strongest defence of the country in war, and the surest safeguard against royal tyranny in time of peace. We have already noticed the indecent haste with which William, surnamed Rufus, or the Red, flew from the bed of his dying father. He hurried to England, and was crowned at Westminster, on the 26th of September, 10S7 ; and his first act of authority was to imprison anew the English nobles whom his father had ordered to be set free. But the chiefs of Normandy, indignant that a younger son of the Conqueror should be preferred before their own duke, maintained the superior right of Robert to be king of England ; and Odo, who headed their fac- tion, excited the Anglo-Norman nobles to join in their hostility. William Rufus, who inherited many of his father's qualities, was not to be daunted by this conspi- racy. He turned from the doubtful faith of his own countrymen to the fidelity of the oppressed English, and by promises of better laws, and large immunities, he ral- lied a powerful force of the natives around his standard. Thirty thousand armed Englishmen, who served on foot, were joined by the new king with a force of Norman ca- Talry, and the siege of Rochester, in which Odo had for- tified himself, was commenced. The English, who fought with all the ardour of intense hatred against the prelatic tyrant, and their Norman oppressors, would soon have taken Rochester ; but William's chiefs perceived that this would ultimately weaken their own cause, and therefore they proposed an accommodation between the parties. Odo and his followers were allowed a free egress from the town, with their arms and horses; but when they also stipulated that the music of the besiegers should not sound in triumph, at their departure, William swore that he would not lose this privilege for a thousand golden marks. The garrison therefore came forth, and the trumpets blew ; but no sooner did Odo appear, than the music was drowned amidst the clamours of the Eng- lish — ' Ho ! bring us ropes,' they shouted ; * bring us ropes to hang this traitor of a bishop, and all his fol- 9D MILITARY HISTORY. lowers !' The humbled prelate, in this disgraceful fashion, was dismissed from the country which he had so ably helped to conquer, and to which he never returned. After this, Rufus crossed the sea with an army, but a treaty was entered into in 1091, in which it was agreed by Robert and William, that they should retain their respective possessions, and that whoever survived the other should possess both Noi*mandy and England. Thus the interests of the native English were sacri- ficed to those of the foreigners, and the promises and concessions which VVilliam had made to the former were revoked when the danger had ceased. In the above-tnentioned treaty, the interests of another party were also sacrificed, in the person of Henry, the youngest son of the Conqueror, who had purchased the Cotentin from Robert, with a part of his patrimonial treasure. The agi-eement of his eldest brothers would have stripped him even of this small possession, which he was little disposed to resign, and therefore he seized and fortified mount Saint Michael, in the determination to hold out both against Normandy and England. The brothers Robert and William soon reduced the Cotentin, and then invested mount Saint Michael with their united forces. During the siege, which was distin- guished by several desperate skirmishes, the red king was unhorsed, and almost slain by a common soldier. At last, the garrison was so closely pressed, that the de- fenders were in danger of dying from hunger and thirst. Henry, in this strait, appealed to the compassion of his brothers, and Robert generously allowed him a supply of water for his own use. When William blamed the duke for what he reckoned a ridiculous act of weakness, the other nobly replied, • If we allowed our brother to perish of thirst, where could we get another ?' At last Henry was obliged to surrender his last possession, after which he wandered about a landless adventurer, attended by a few impoverished followers. In the mean time, William's love of territorial acquisi- tion seemed to grow stronger than ever ; and while he endeavovired ineffectually to make conquests in Wales and Scotland by arms, an opportunity occurred of in- creasing his dominions more effectually by purchase. The crusading spirit had commenced ; and Robert, who caught the prevailing enthusiasm, offered to mortgage PURCHASES OF RUFUS. 91 the duchy of Normandy to his brother of England for five years, on the receipt of ten thousand marks, to fur- nish him for the expedition. In 1096, William wrung the amount from the English clergy, and was put in temporary possession of the dukedom. This new position iuvolved him in wars with his neighbour the king of Fiance, but without any decisive results, except the con- icst of Maine in 1099, which was attended by circum- lances that showed the fiery character of William. The King was hunting in the New Forest, when be was told that the capital of Maine had been surprised, upon which, without waiting for his forces, he instantly galloped to - le sea-side to embark. The wind at that time was high, id the sea strong, so that the mariners were afraid to ..jist sail; but William fearlessly exclaiming, ' Heard ye ever of a king who was drowned ?' commanded them iuimediately to launch. He joined his army in Nor- mandy, and then burst upon his enemies like a thun- I'.erbolt. The siege of Maine was soon raised, and the province recovered. In the following year, the duke of Guienne resolved to join the crusade ; but to muster an army for such a distant expedition, required more resources than he possessed. In this difficulty, he applied to the wealthy king of England, with an offer similar to that of the duke of Normandy, and William caught at the proposal. The money was prepared to purchase, and the army to take possession, but a mightier monarch had counter- acted the bargain. Just two mouths previous, the New- Forest had exacted a fresh debt of vengeance against the offspring of the Conqueror, by the death of Richard, son to Robert of Normandy, who was killed accidentally by a random arrow ; and on the second of August (a.d. 1100) William perished in the same place, and by a similar fate. On the morning of that day, he gave a plentiful repast at the castle of Winchester ; after which the whole company, probably confused with wine and revelry, repaired to the forest, to hunt. Among them was the king's brother, Henry, who was now reinstated in the royal favour. William drew his bow at a large deer, but the string snapped : he then cried impatiently to Walter Tyrrel, his favourite, who was standing near; ' Shoot, Walter — shoot in the devil's name !' Walter did shoot accordingly ; and either his arrow rebounding 92 MILITARY HISTORY, from a tree, or the shaft of some other person, entered the king's heart, who instantly fell dead. Walter mounted bis horse in terror, and fled to Normandy, so that he was accused as the agent of the murder, although he sted- fastly persevered in denying it. Some poor charcoal- burners found the body, and having wrapped it in coarse linen, and laid it in their cart, they conveyed it in this humble state to the castle of Winchester. But Prince Henry was already at the gates of this royal residence clamouring for the keys of the king's treasury ; and while the keepers demurred, he drew his sword, and with the aid of the by-stauders took possession by force. Having thus obtained the choicest figures of persuasion, as well as the sinews of war, the claims of the absent Robert were easily set aside ; and on the 5th of August, 1100, just three days after the death of Rufus, Henry was crowned at London. When Henry, surnamed Beauclerk, from his scho- larship (which was remarkable at a period when few princes could sign their own names), had ascended the throne, he was conscious not only of the defectiveness of his title, but the uncertain fealty of his nobles ; and the return of Robert from Palestine, where he had already acquired a very high reputation among the crusading warriors, was an event to be daily expected. To pro- vide therefore against the coming storm, the new king had recourse to the plan of ingratiating himself with the natives of England. They had been already crushed to the earth, during the two preceding reigns; but although repeatedly disappointed by kingly pro- mises, they were still as ready to be deceived as ever. Indeed, the accidental circumstance of Henry having been born in England, endeared him more highly to the people than any of the sons of William the Conqueror ; his promise to restore the laws of Edwai'd the Confessor gave them hopes of a more just and equal administration ; but his marriage with Maud, the daughter of Malcolm Canmore, and the female representative of the royal Saxon line, was the crowning stroke of his conciliatory policy. These measures wei'e not more than necessary, as Robert returned from the Holy Land only a month after Henry's accession, to assert his right to the crown. An invasion from Normandy for this purpose was me- naced, and on the 19th of July (1101) Robert landed with AGGRESSIONS OF HENRY. 93 a powerful force at Portsmouth. Henry, who had raised an army chiefly of English, hastened to meet him, but the rival forces, instead of engaging, faced each other as if awe-struck for several days. A treaty was then pro- posed ; and here, the brave crusader was no match for the astute Henry ; for he was persuaded to resign his claims upon England for an annual pension of three thousand marks, with the vague condition, that if either brother died without legitimate male issue, the other should be his successor. After this compact, the twice- befooled Robert retired to Normandy ; and Henry, being freed from farther danger, proceeded to punish those nobles who had taken part against him, in the late in- vasion. He succeeded so efl'ectually, that the most pow- erful of their number under various charges and pretexts were reduced, ruined, or banished. Robert came over from Normandy in 1103, to interpose in behalf of his old friends ; but finding himself closely watched, and be- coming apprehensive of the loss of his own liberty, he not only was unable to effect any thing in their favour, but was even glad to resign his pension as an act of courtesy to the young queen. Thus baffled in every quarter, he hurried out of England, and returned to Normandy, to conceal his disgrace and shame. Normandy was now a country of misery and blood- shed on account of the weak rule of Robert : his courage, which was matchless in the throng of battle, was inadequate to repress his rebellious barons, or encounter the hourly emergencies of government ; and therefore while the rude chieftains slighted his autho- rity, they made war upon each other, and involved all in confusion. In this crisis, those nobles of Normandy who loved peace, invited Henry to come over and become their arbitrator, a summons with which he gladly complied. In 1104, about Midsummer, he crossed the sea, and ingratiated himself with the Norman chiefs, and after reproaching Robert in no very gentle terras for the indolence and disorder of his government, he extorted from him the cession of the county of Evreux. This was but the commencement of a system of aggression ; for in the spring of the following year, Henry again crossed to Normandy, where being joined by many of its lords, he took the field under pretence of redressing the country's grievances ; and after gaining 94 MILITARY HISTORY. Bayeux and Caen, he returned to England to prepare for a fresh campaign. His aim was now the total re- duction of the duchy, and a battle was fought between the rival brothers at Tinchebray, on the 28th of Septem- ber (1106), in which Henry prevailed by superiority of numbers, and Robert and many of his nobles were taken prisoners. Among these captives also was no less a personage than Edgar, the Atheliug. This unworthy representative of the old English monarchy had, at one time, been proclaimed king of England ; but, as we have seen, he was a mere ' king of shreds and patches,' who, at last, preferred a pension from the tyrants, and a place at their board, to more heroic alternatives. He had followed Robert as a vassal, to the crusade ; he now fought under his banner, and shared in his captivity ; and after this period he disap- pears, as he well deserves to do, from the page of history. The ungenerous Henry confined his brother to prison — a man whose chief fault is naively stated by old his- torians to have been, that ' he forgot and forgave too much,' — and when the duke one day managed to pro- cure a horse, and galloped from Cardiff castle, he was overtaken, brought back, and deprived of his eyes by order of the king. Robert died in the same prison after a dark and lonely captivity of twenty-seven years, during all which period his lofty spirit and high courage never forsook him. One day a new suit was sent to him in prison, and he was teld that the king had tried it on, and found it too small. The duke at this threw the clothes indignantly away, exclaiming, * Look at this brother of mine ; this vile book-man, who has dispossessed, imprisoned, and blinded me — me, who have been so high and celebrated : he gives me his old clothes out of charity, as if I were one of his hired lackeys.' Henry was now king of England, lord of Normandy, and the most powerful potentate of his age ; but while he looked back with remorse upon the steps by which all this had been accomplished, he also looked forward with dread to William, the son of Robert— a boy as yet only five years old, but who might live to revenge his father's injuries. He therefore sent a body of horse to the castle of St. Saen, in Normandy, to seize the child in the absence of his guardian ; but the faithful ser- 1 INnilGL'ES OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND. 95 vants of the prince discovered the plot, and conveyed liim away in safety ; after which his cause was espoused by the French king, Louis the Sixth, commonly called the Fat. This able monarch now perceived the error of the French court in allowing his powerful neighbour of England to strengthen himself by the possession of Normandy, and other provinces in France ; and his exertions on this occasion formed perhaps the earliest of the precautionary wars of Europe to preserve the balance of power, and prevent great states from ag- grandizing- themselves to the hazard of the rest. Henry was obliged to cross the sea a. d. 1111, in defence of his continental territorie.', and he remained two years en- gaged in war and negotiations, and with ultimate suc- cess. Louis, and the o'her protectors of the prince of Normandy, were withdrawn from his cause, and five years of peace succeeded, in which Henry alternately passed his time in England and in Normandy. His chief aim was now to secure his dominions to his only legitimate son, William ; and he, therefore, in 1114, obliged the chiefs of Normandy to do homage to the prince as their future sovereign, and on the following year he required his subjects of England to perform the same ceremony. He then endeavoured to entice William, the son of duke Robert, into his power, with flattering words, and large promises ; but the youth re- membered that his father was still languishing in an English prison, and put no faith in his uncle's declara- tions. The calm which had continued for some time, was now interrupted. Louis, of France, offended with Henry's proceedings, again set up young William of Normandy against his uncle, and induced Baldwin, earl of Flanders, and Fulk, earl of Anjou, to join in the same cause. Many of the barons of Normandy also acceded to the coalition, while even the court of Henry was filled with so many secret traitors, that he knew not whom to trust. He was even obliged to sleep in armour, with his sword and shield ready, and a guard of trusty servants watch- ing in his bed-chamber. When the war commenced, he kept on the defensive, on account of the superiority of his enemies, and had recourse to his old arts of negotia- tion, by which he separated the members of the con- federacy. The earl of Flanders was slain in a skirmish ; 96 MILITARY HISTORY. the earl of Aujou was bought off by a marriagre between his daughter and the young prince of England ; and the revolted barons of Normandy were won back to the cause of Henry, so that Louis was left alone to maintain the conflict. The king of England now became the assailant, and a battle was fought between the two parties, at Brenneville, on the 20th of August, 1119. This skirmish was not so remarkable for the numbers engaged in it — there being only 500 English cavaliers against 400 of the French — as for the rank of the com- batants, there being two kings, two princes, and many of the chief lords of France and England, fighting hand to hand, like common soldiers. In this battle, young William of Normandy, who led the van of the French, made a brilliant charge, broke through the front rank of the English, and fought his way up to his usurping uncle, who, at the same instant, was fiercely assailed, and almost struck down, by the blows of a French knight ; but this gallant onset was not duly seconded, and William, after losing his followers, and being him- self unhorsed, was obliged to fight his way out of the melee on foot. The English charged in turn, and the French fled ; and such was the precipitation with which king Louis hurried from the field, that he lost his way in a thick wood, and there wandered about alone, until he was conducted to Andeley by a common peasant. In this aff"ray, only three knights were killed, as all the combatants were armed cap-a-pie. This circumstance in some measure verifies the joke of James VI. upon the advantages of wearing defensive armour: he said it was a good thing, as it hindered a man from doing mischief, as well as from receiving it. After this event, peace was established between the kings of France and England, and Henry had now leisure to further his beloved scheme of securing the succession for his son. For this, he had repeatedly sinned and repented ; for this, he had built monasteries and committed murders, in rapid succession ; but the time had arrived when all this toil was to leave nothing behind but disappointment and remorse. In 1120, he prevailed upon the barons of Normandy to renew their oaths of fealty to his son, and, upon his invitation, a gallant train of these chiefs accompanied him to England on the 25th of November. But the prince of DEATH UF PRINCE WILLIAM. 97 Eiifrlaiid, who set sail a few hours later than his father, attended by the prime of the young nobility, consisting or -250 persons, had regaled the sailors with abundance <: -trong wines; upon which they rashly plied their - to overtake the ting, until they ran the ship with t violence upon the rock of Catte-raze, so that her u. : side was stove in. A universal ci-y of distress fol- lowed, that rung over the sea, until it reached the kmj's ship like a faint wail — but no one dreamed from what cause the sound originated. At the moment of danger, the boat was hoisted out, and entered by William and some of the principal nobles ; but on hearing the shrieks of his natural sister, the countess of Perche, from the sinking vessel, he put back, in the hope of rescuing her. At that moment the love of life was so strong, and such multitudes flung themselves into the boat, that it instantly sank. Thus all belonging to that noble ship perished except a poor butcher of Rouen, who clung to the yards till the morning, when he was saved by some fishermen. The news of this calamity soon reached Eny;land and the royal household, but not the ears of the bereaved father, who continued to wonder at the cause of his son's delay, supposing that he had been put into some port upon the coast ; till the courtiers, when they found that farther concealment was impossi- ble, instructed a little boy, who, weeping, and falling at the king's feet, informed him of what had happened. Henry staggered, and fell insensible on the ground, and only recovered to express the anguish of a broken heart. But mournful as was the circumstance, the English natives rejoiced in it as a national deliverance. The departed prince appears, from incontrovertible testi- mony, to have been stained with the worst vices that can degrade and brutify humanity ; and although he was the son of Maud, yet he cared so little for his Saxon lineage, that he openly vowed he would yoke the Saxons to the plough like oxen, when he became king of England. After Henry's grief had in some measure abated, he thought to repair the evil by taking to himself a new wife ; and on January 29th, 1121, he married Adelais, daughter of Godfrey, duke of Louvain, by whom how- ever he had no offspring. The barons of Normandy, now that the prince of Enerland vsas dead, conceived F 98 MILITARY HISTORY. themselves absolved from tlieir oaths of allegiance, and they turned once more towards William, the son of Robei-t. The ever-disturbed Henry was therefore obliged to repair once more to Normandy with a large army, which he did with such promptitude, that he burst upon the confederates before they were aware of his landing, and took the chief of them prisoners, as they were riding quietly and at their ease between Beau- mont and Vatteville — upon which the rest of the nobles were compelled to submit. As for the unfortunate son of Robert, who had suffered so much from infancy to man- hood, and struggled so bravely through every change, he returned to the court of France upon this new disso- lution of his hopes. And now Maud, or Matilda, the only legitimate daughter of Henry, who had been married to the emperor of Germany, having become a widow, returned to England in 112G,- and as the king had no hopes of children by his wife, he resolved that the empress should inherit the succession, in the room of his departed William. The ceremony of swearing the states of England and Normandy was therefore re- sumed, and all swore allegiance to Matilda accordingly, the first of the jurors being Stephen, the king's nephew, who afterwards usurped the crown. To defend her claim still farther, and exclude William, the son of Robert, from every chance of disturbing it, Henry married the empress to Geoffrey, count of Anjou, the founder of the royal Plantagenets of England. This important union was celebrated at Rouen, in the Whitsun-week of 1127, and heralds shouted, at every cross-way in the streets, the royal command for all to be happy, on pain of treason. ' Thus saith king Henry,' was the proclama- tion — • let no man here, whether native or foreigner, rich or poor, high or low, warrior or peasant, be so hardy as to stay away from the royal rejoicings ; for whosoever shall not take part in the games and sports, will be considered as an offender against his lord the king.' The festival and rejoicings lasted for three long weeks ; and if the people consented to be merry during the whole space, it was certainly by a stretch of obe- dience seldom paralleled in the history of monarchical governments. In the succeeding year the gallant prince of Nor- mandy, whose image haunted Henry like a night- USURPATION OF STEPHEN. 99 mare, came to his end through the artifices of the king. Henry had stirred up against him Thierri, the land- grave of Alsace ; and in the war which ensued between the two princes, William, who was victorious, was ^vounded in the hand, and this slight accident brought on a mortification of which he died. Henry's greatest anxiety after this was occasioned by the empress re- maining childless ; but in 1133 she produced a son, to the great comfort of the old kinir, who was once more delighted with the possession of a male heir. He caused his nobles to renew their oaths of allegiance to the em- press and her infant, who was named Henry ; and the birth of a second, and afterwards of a third grandson, confirmed the fond hopes of the king, that the sove- reignty would be perpetuated in his own line. — He was staying at the court of his son-in-law, and had spent the day in hunting, in the forest of Lyons. In the evening he supped plentifully upon lampreys, which was his favourite dish ; but this repast was followed by a fit of indigestion, of -which he died six days after. This happened on the 1st of December, 1135, in the sixty-seventh year of his age, and thirty-sixth of his reign. No sooner did Stephen, count of Blois, hear of his uncle's death, than he hurried to London, where his popular qualities recommended him to the citizens ; and he soon prevailed upon the clergy, and some of the influential nobles, to set aside the claims of Matilda, and elect him king. This was the more easily acconaplished, as the warlike barons of that period were indignant at the thought of submitting to a she-king, and demanded a man to govern them. The chiefs of Normandy co- incided in this feeling, and in 1137 they also chose Stephen for their sovereign, while the unfortunate Ma- tilda thus saw herself stripped, in an instant, of all her hereditary rights. But her cause was ably espoused by Robert, earl of Gloucester, her natural brother, and by David, king of Scotland, her uncle, the latter of whom invaded Northumberland, in 1133, an event that occa- sioned the battle of the Standard, the most distinguished conflict of that warlike period. The army of the Scot- tish king was a strange miscellany, composed of Nor- mans, Germans, Saxons, Cumbrian Britons, and North- umbrians, the inhabitants of Teviotdale and Lothian, 100 MILITARY HISTORY. the Ficts, commonly called the men of Galloway, and the ancient Scots, or Gael — men differing in race, in lan- guage, and modes of warfare, but all equally ferocious, and prompt to deeds of rapine and massacre. A powerful army was raised by the barons of the north of England to repel them, and on this occasion there was such a feeling of unanimity, in consequence of the atrocity committed by the invaders, that Normans and English marched side by side with equal alacrity. To give also the character of a holy war to this resistance, a stand- ard, formed of a mast garaished with sacred banners, and surmounted by a casket containing a consecrated host, was erected upon a four-wheeled carriage, to move with the English army, while a band of brave knights undertook its defence, under a solemn vow to perish rather than desert their charge. This military ensign was common in Italy during the middle ages, under the name of the Caroccio ; and it served not only to stimulate the soldiery with religious enthusiasm during the fight, but to form a rallying point for a tumultuary army should it be thrown into confusion. Nothing but a similar spirit of unanimity could have ensured success to the Scots ; but amonj, so many dif- ferent races such a feeling could not have been ex- pected, so that on the evening before the battle their council was a scene of contention about the honour ot leading the van. David had intended that the battle should be commenced by the men-at-arms and archers, in whom his chief strength consisted ; but the men of Galloway, who fought with long, slender spears, and who had displayed great bravery during the campaign, insisted upon taking the post of honour. ' And whence this confidence of these mailed men V cried Malise, earl of Strathearn, a Celtic chief, who felt jealous for the honour of his people — ' I myself wear no mail, and yet I will advance farther to-morrow than those who are sheathed in steel.' This boast incensed the wearers of armour, and Alan de Percy, a bastard brother of the English baron of the name, but a follower of David, told Malise that he had said more than he dared to make good. The king was obliged to silence the con- tention, and yield the van to the Galvvegians. On the next morning, which was the 22d of August, both armies drew up, the English forming a compact mass. BATTLE OF THE STANDARD. 101 with their cavalry in the rear, while the Scots advanced in four lines, with the men of Galloway in front. The latter rushed on like a tempest, shouting ' Albanigrh ! Albanigrh!' and stag-gered the mass of spearmen, upon whom they threw themselves with great fury ; hut here the archery of the native English was terribly brought to bear, for the first time, against the ranks of the Scots. ' It was glorious,' says a contemporary chronicle, ■ to see these stinging flies issue in swarms from the quivers of the men of the south, and darken the air like a cloud of dust.' The naked bodies of the Galwegians could not sustain these deadly discbarges of forked arrows, so that they were on the point of turning, when the Scottish men-at-arms came up to their support. They couched their lances, and charged with such im- petuosity, that the English ranks opposed to them were torn asunder ' like a spider's web.' The battle was thus renewed, and with favourable promise to Scotland, when a cry arose among the ranks that king David had fallen. It was in vain that he threw oflF his helmet, and galloped to and fro, assuring his soldiers that he was unhurt, and attempted to rally them : the panic was fatal to such a tumultuary army, and the king was swept along with the fugitives. Had David obtained this hard-won victory, which was so unexpectedly torn from his grasp, he might have extended his sway over the north of England, as far as the Trent and Humber : as it was, Stephen, wlio was engaged in the south, against the earl of Gloucester and the insurgent barons, was obliged to surrender the earldom of North- umberland to the Scots, in the full hope however of re- sumini: it with a more tranquil opportunity. In the mean time Stephen, who had inundated the land with foreign mercenaries to support his claim, began to experience the difliculties and evils of usurpa- tion. His military hirelings disgusted the people by their excesses ; the nobles, to whom he had gTanted extraordinary privileges to secure their acquiescence, fortified their castles, and then began to act as petty sovereigns, independent of his authority ; and the bishops, whom he had propitiated by similar favours, fortified themselves in like manner. He perceived his error when it was too late, and resolved to dethrone these minor usurpers : accordingly, he commenced with 102 MILITARY HISTORY. his laercenaries an attack upon their strong'-holds, which wei-e not taken without resistance and bloodshed. Thus civil war was kindled at one and the same time in different parts of England, and in addition to the arms of his unruly vassals, Stephen was obliged to encounter the more formidable menaces of the church. At this conjuncture, Matilda landed in England, on the 13th of September (1139), and was received by the queen- dowager into Arundel castle, upon tidings of which Stephen hurried to the place with a strong force, and commenced the siege. Matilda would soon have fallen into his hands, but for those extravagant rules of chi- valrous courtesy which Stephen, as a good knight, was bound to observe. It was represented to him, that he was acting against his oath of knighthood, by attacking a castle which was the property of his predecessor's spouse, now a widowed helpless princess; upon which he permitted Matilda to retire in safety, with her attend- ants, to the strong castle of Bristol, that was held by the earl of Gloucester with a numerous garrison. As if this ,had not been enough, he furnished her with a powerful escort, commanded by his brother, and hi.s chief confidant, that she might sustain no harm by the ■way. After this singular event, a series of battles and skirmishes ensued, of which we know nothing, except the miseries they entailed upon the people, who were crushed between the two parties of conflicting Nor- mans, until a decisive conflict took place near Lincoln, on the 2d of February, 1141. The king's forces were drawn up with the foot in the centre, and the cavalry disposed upon each wing : the earl of Gloucester, the leader and soul of the opposite pai-ty, made a similar arrangement, placing upon his wings those knights and barons who had been bereaved of their estates, and were therefore most imbittered against the king. These men commenced the battle in an unusual fashion ; in- stead of couching their lances, they threw them away, drew their swords, and rushed upon their antagonists ; while the latter, expecting that they would first havfr been assailed by tilting, suddenly wheeled their horses, and fled in confusion. The main body of the king's army was now assailed by horse and foot united, and after many desperate charges on every quarter, the ranks were overpowered, and compelled to give way. DEFEAT OF STEPHEN AT LINCOLN. 103 Stephen, who was ou foot through the whole couflict, still di.sdaiueil to aurrender, and fought to the last, sur- rounded by a few of his most faithful followers ; but he was finally obliged to resign his sword to the earl of (jiouce.-ter, by whom he was delivered up to Matilda. I he royal captive was sent to confinement in the castle 'A' Bristol, and the empress proceeded to London, where iicr claims were recognised, and preparations made for her coronation. But the intolerable haughtiness with which she treated her subjects, both Saxon and Nor- man, excited universal disgust. Even the clergy, who bad been the moat adverse to Stephen, now remembered his popular qualities with regret ; and the bishop of ^Vi^chester, the papal legate, and brother of Stephen, \\ho had procured the deposition of the king, and the recognition of the empress, made haste to reverse the proceeding. During this period the hands of the English l)relates had become as conversant with the truncheon and battle axe as with the mass book, and crosier, so that the legate found little difficulty in assembling, in a few days, a very powerful force. So secretly, too, had his proceedings been conducted, that he fell unexpect- edly on the castle of Winchester, in which the empress resided, as well as the king of Scotland, the earl of Gloucester, and all the chief supporters of her cause ; and so closely were these illustrious personages invested, that they had apparently no alternative but to yield, or perish from famine. In this dilemma, they escaped by a stratagem of the earl of Gloucester. It was the custom of those days to suspend military operations during a church festival ; and on that of the Holy Cross, on the I4th of September, the en)j)ress, mounted on a swift horse, and escorted by her friends and guards, stole silently out of Winchester. They had not got far, however, before the alarm was raised, and a pursuit commenced. ^latiida escaped to Devizes, half dead with fatigue and fear; the king of Scotland was equally for- tunate ; but Gloucester, who brougbt up the rear, was taken prisoner. As his presence was of the utmost importance to his party, a negotiation was entered into for his liberty, and it was agreed, that he should be ex- changed for Stephen, who was accordingly released from confinement. His victorious brother, the bishop, now revoked the anathemas he had pronounced with 104 MILITARY HISTORY. such empbasis only eight months before against tJie king's party, and in lieu of these he excommunicated his late patroness, and all her adherents. In the suc- ceeding year, Matilda was so closely pursued, that she was obliged to take refuge in the castle of Oxford, while Stephen, who had surprised the city itself, uttered a solemn vow, that he would not raise the siege of the castle till she surrendered. After holding out for three months, the empress escaped once more by a very singular stratagem. The whole ground was covered with snow ; and she dressed herself, and three of her knights, in white, and stole forth with them by a postern, at mid- night. In this winter-like uniform they eluded the watchful centinels, and glided cautiously to the river, which was frozen ; and having crossed it safely on foot, they walked onward to Abington, from which place they proceeded on horseback to Wallingford. Amidst all this shifting and counter-shifting of par- ties, at which the head becomes giddy, it would be equally painful and unprofitable to follow the various events of this most selfish warfare, which continued to rage with unintermitting fury. Their character is but read in the miseries which they produced upon the land. The native English, who were equally persecuted by both parties, hated both with a bitter hatred, and when either suffered a repulse, they fell upon the fugitives, and made them pay dearly for their oppression during the day of prosperity. But such deeds of vengeance, instead of alleviating, could only increase the evils of war, so that, in the words of an historian of the period, ' multitudes forsook their beloved country, and went into voluntary exile ; others, abandoning their own houses, constructed miserable huts in the church-yards, hoping protection from the sanctity of the place. Whole families, after sustaining life as long as they could by eating herbs, (roots, and the flesh of dogs and horses, at last died of hunger, and you might see many pleasant villages with- out a single inhabitant of either sex.' A more important competitor now appeared upon the Bcene, in the person of Henry, son of Matilda ; and he came armed not only with rights, but ample resources to enforce them. In additiou to Anjou, Touraine and Maine, his patrimonial territories, he was duke of Nor- luaudy thiouuh his matei'nal grandfather, and lord of PRUDENT MEASURES OF HENRY 11. 105 Guienne and Poitou by his marriage with Eleanor, the divorced queen of Louis VII. of France. He landed in Eng-land.Jan.G, 1153, being then in his twenty-first ye.ir, and pressed forward to action although it was now the middle of winter. Stephen met him at Wallingford, with a still larger army, and an immediate engagement was expected ; but both parties continued to face each other for three days, without coming to action. In coii- sequeuce of this mutual forbearance several barons, who deplored the miseries of the country, had hopes of peace, and proposed an accommodation between the king and prince. This was the more palatable to Stephen, as Eus- tace, his eldest son, was dead ; and peace was concluded between the parties, on condition that Stephen should enjoy the crown for life, and Henry be appointed his successor, while the principal castles were to be gar- risoned by the friends of the latter, to secure his future accession. The whole kingdom was delighted with this arrangement, after having been traversed for so many years by contending armies, and the nobles took the oath of fealty to the young prince at Oxford, on the 13th of January 1154. On the 2oth of October, the same year, Stephen died at Dover, in the nineteenth year of his reign; and Henry, who was in Normandy, came to Eng- land in the following month, and was solemnly crowned on the 19th at Westminster. The first 'attempts of Henry on succeeding to the throne were, to heal the evils of the late civil war. He therefore commanded all the foreign mercenaries, who had wasted the land under the banner of Stephen, to quit the kingdom by a certain day on pain of death ; an order which they promptly obeyed. He then ordered the castles which the late king had permitted his parti- sans to build, and which were more than a thousand in number, to be levelled to the ground, and the reluctant owners were compelled to comply. He also revoked those extravagant and destructive grants of the crown lands, and privileges, which had been made during the late usurpation ; and the act of resumption was greatly facilitated by the justice with which it was executed. Henry having by these and other wise measures, re- stored peace to the afflicted kingdom during the first year of his reign, was engaged for a long period in wars with F 2 13G MILITARY HISTORY. France, for the preservation and aggrandizement of his continental possessions ; but the inilitai-y incidents with which these were accompanied, are too minute and in- significant for a detail. During the earlier part of the contest, the power of Henry greatly preponderated ; for independently of his English kingdom, he possessed al- most a fifth part of what now comprises the kingdom of France, while Louis VII. was kiug of not more than a tenth. With such a superiority of force, and through his skill in negotiation, Henry obtained the earldom of Nantz, and afterwards a large portion of the earldom of Thoulouse ; and returned to England in 1163. It was dur- ing this war that a combatant flourished who was after- wards to acquire celebrity in conflicts of a very different character. This was Thomas a Becket, archdeacon of Canterbury, and chancellor of the kingdom, the chief companion of Henry's labours and amusements. The future saint showed himself a brave man-at-arms, as well as a wise leader : he unhorsed a gallant French knight in single combat, in the presence of the armies of France and England, and took three strong fortresses. It was not long after this period that Henry, in order to further his schemes of clerical reform which were now urgently required, raised the valiant archdeacon to the see of Canterbury ; but the unfortunate results of this choice are foreign to the plan of a strictly military history. It is suflicient to state that the king of France, who found himself unable to cope with his powerful vassal in arms, and who had tried every manoeuvre in diplomacy to lower his authority in France, used the banished archbishop as an instrument for making Henry odious in the eyes of his continental subjects. In this, however, he was un- successful ; and after various changes of fortune, peace was established between them in 1169. On this occasion prince Henry, the eldest son of the king, did homage to Louis for Anjou and Maine, as he had formerly done for Normandy ; Richard, the second son, for Aquitaine ; and Geoffrey, the third, for Bretagne. By thus establishing- his sons in his foreign principalities, the king of Eng- land trusted that he had built his continental authority upon a secure basis ; but, ou the contrary, it was from this source that all his misfortunes originated. In 1172, was commenced the conquest of Ireland, the most wonderful military event of this age of warlike en- CONQUEST OF IRELAND. 107 rprise. Notwithstanding all that bards have sung, and L ;aditions fabled, of the early power and civilization of that ill-fated country, its barbarism in the twelfth century was CKtreme ; and Henry, who, in the early part of his reign, ■ jad received a gift of the island from the pope, and seen :ie facility with which it might be conquered, was only v.ithheld from the enterprise by more urgent occupa- tions. At last, Dermot Macmorroiigh, king of Leinster, Ijaving been expelled from the country for his crimes, applied to Henry, who was then in Guienne, for aid, offer- ing to liold Leinster as his vassal ; but Henry, who at that time was sufficiently occupied with the hostility of the church, and the king of France, refused the offer. He gave Dermot, however, letters patent, permitting any of his vassals to aid him, and, furnished with these, Mac- mnrrough came to England, and applied to Strougbow, earl of Pembroke, a nobleman needy and full of enter- prise, who was soon persuaded to undertake the adven- ture, by a promise of the hand of Eva, the Irish king's daughter, with the reversion of his kingdom. Dermot also applied to Fitz-Stephens, another adventurer of Wales, whose aid he secured by the promise of a principality to be formed from the town of Wexford and two adjoining cantreds. Fitz-Stephens mustered his vassals, and, in 1170, he set sail for this important conquest, with no gTeater force than 130 knights, 60 men-at-arms, and about 300 archers. The events that followed seemed to anticipate the conquest of Peru and Mexico four centu- ries later. The Irish, whose principal weapons were darts, hatchets, and stones, were confounded at the sight of enemies covered with shining mail, and moving in such perfect military order ; and in the encounters that followed, they found themselves no match for the arms, discipline, and prowess, of the invadei-s. The province of Leinster was soon recovered, but the king of Con- naught, who enjoyed a permanent authority in the island, was filled with alarm at these startling events, and soon formed a coalition of all the Irish chiefs to expel the dangerous strangers. Fitz-Stephens therefore fortified himself near Ferns in so skilful a manner, that the troops of the Irish confederacy were unable to dis- lodge him ; and having received a reinforcement of ten knights, thirty squires, and 100 archers, he was enabled to resume the offensive. After this auspicious com- 108 MlLITAllY HISTORY. tuencement, Strongbow was eager to enter into the rich harvest. He entreated permission of his sovereign Henry for that purpose ; and the king, with a sneer at what he considered a case of overweening vanity, gave the im- poverished baron permission to go and conquer Irehmd. Strongbow, however, had not calculated his resources so rashly as the king imagined. He sent off an advanced guard during the winter, of ten knights and seventy archers ; and this small body having landed in the neighbourhood of Wexford, completely routed an army of 3000 Irish, of whom 800 were slain in battle. Strong- bow himself soon followed, with 200 knights and 1000 soldiers, a force which the natives were unable to resist; and having obtained the hand of Eva, his promised bride, he stormed the city of Dublin, and then reduced the whole kingdom of Meath. Upon the death of Dermot, in the following year, the earl succeeded his father-in- law as king, without opposition. Henry was aroused by these marvels, but it was to feel iudig-nant that his subjects should presume to make themselves independent kings, and of a territory which he considered his own, as it had been g-ranted him by the pope. He therefore forbade any more English ad- venturers to proceed to Ireland, and commanded all who were already there to return on pain of banishment and confiscation. He resolved to complete the work of the conquest in person, and embarked for Ireland on the 2(3th of October. Strongbow in the mean time had made dutiful submission to his sovei-eign, and was allowed to hold a great part of Leinster, as a vassal of the English crown. The Irish chieftains and natives, who, like very savages, were awe-struck by the power and dazzled with the splendour of the English monarch, crowded from all quarters with oifers of submission. In so short a space, and with such facility, was an important conquest achieved, which has cost England so much difficulty to retain. No monarch of that age could now be compared with Henry, for extent of power, and success in war and ne- gotiation ; but circumstances were at hand that might have cured the envy even of the most ambitious. These afflictions also originated in that domestii^^scortV which seems to have been entailed as a curse upon the descend- ants of William the Conqueror. The throe eldest £ons TROUBLES OF HENUY II. 109 of the king", now advancing to luanliood, were equally brave, ambitious, and impatient for enterprise ; and from eagerness to aggrandize his family, as well as from pa- ternal love, he had caused the eldest, Henry, to be anointed king of England conjointly with himself at the age of sixteen, besides bestowing rich appanages upon las other children. But these possessions only stimulated their ambition, and evil counsellors were at hand to stir them up against their parent. Henry, the prince- king, who had been the most highly favoured, was the first to rebel ; and the chief persons -who incited him were, Eleanor, his mother, who was offended at her hus- band's numerous gallantiies— and the king of France, the prince's father in-law, who was eager to increase his own power on the continent at the expense of his rival. The young Henry, who longed to become king in reality, entered into an infamous plot to dethrone his father, and the king of Scotland, the earls of Flanders, Bou- logne, and Blois, and many of the continental chiefs. Were engaged to join in it by promises, which, if exe- cuted, would have cut down England into a mere pro- vince. Even many of the English nobles, and the princes llichavd and Geoffrey, were also engaged in this infa- mous conspiracy. When the whole plan was ripe for execution, the young Henry fled to France, followed by his two brothers, and the explosion commenced. The king of France accompanied by prince Henry entered Nor- mandy with a large army on one side, the earls of Flan- ders and Boulogne burst into it on the other, and the provinces of Anjou, Maine, Aquitaine, and Bretague, were overrun and ravaged by their own barons, who had joined the coalition. To deepen the confusion, England was at one and the same instant invaded by the king of Scots, who ravaged Cumberland and Carlisle, and dis- tracted by the rebellious barons, who rose in arms in the heart of the kingdom. Amidst such trying diiSculties, and when all antici- pated the king's destruction, his wonderful talents and activity appeared to triumph over impossibilities. Hav- ing garrisoned his principal fortresses in France and Normandy, and placed them under captains upon whom he could depend, he raised 20,000 Brabanjous, or merce- nary soldiers, and held himself in readiiies--' wherever tlie danger might be most pressing. At the siege of Dri- 110 MILITARY HISTORY. encouit, the earl of Boulogne died of a slight wound, and the earl of Flanders, who was with him, immediately re- tired from Normandy; and thus freed at once from two powerful enemies, Henry fiew with his Brabanjons to raise the siege of Verneuil, which was invested by the French king. The latter was unable to comprehend such a rapid movement, until he was assured of his adversary's approach ; upon which he fled with such precipitation, that he left his camp with all its valuables behind, to be plundered by Henry's mercenaries. From Verneuil, Henry passed with equal promptitude to Bre- tagne, so that the rebellious nobles in that quarter were obliged to surrender. In the mean time, the same good fortune that had crowned his exertions upon the conti- nent, rewarded his precautionary measures at home. Those English nobles, to whom Henry had intrusted the defence of the kingdom during his absence, compelled the king of Scotland to retreat into his own dominions; after which they attacked and defeated with great slaughter an army of the insurgent barons, under the command of the earl of Leicester. Henry thus every v.here successful, obliged the kings of France and Scot- land to agree to a truce, which was to last from the feast of St. Hilary to the end of the Easter holidays. 'i'iiis truce was only a breathing time for the enemies of England, during which they mustei'ed their resources, and planned the operations of a new campaign. It was now resolved that the prince-king, with the earl of Flan- ders, should land a powerful army of Flemings in the south of England ; that the king of Scotland should in- vade the northern counties ; while the factious English earls,' on the side of young Henry, wei'e at the same instant to rise with their followers in different parts of the kingdom, and increase the confusion. The distracted father, who was at this time on the continent, immedi- ately hurried to England, and being overwhelmed with a conviction of the desperate state of his affairs, he adopted an expedient which excited the astonishment of both friends and foes. Since the murder of Becket, it was a common belief that the anger of heaven was upon the king, so that his affairs would never prosper ; and from policy or remorse, or perhaps from a mixture of both feelings, he resolved to make his peace witli the departed saint, and thus revive the courage of his adhe- PENANCE OF HENRY II. Ill rents. No sooner had he la .ded at Soutb.ampton on July the 8th (1174), than he dismissed his splendid train, clothed himself in penitential weeds, and proceeded to Canterbury, to do penance at the tomb of the martyr. Within a mile of the city he dismounted, and walked barefoot ; and as he passed along the streets, the people saw that his steps were marked with blood from his lace- rated feet. When he came to the cathedral, he threw himself before the tomb of the saint, and spent the night stretched upon the pavement, in prayers and tears ; after which he submitted his naked back to be scourged by the monks, drank a draught of water that was mixed with some of Becket's blood, and then received absolu- tion. This painful process threw him into a temporary fever when he arrived at London, so that he was cou- lined to a sick bed ; but it was the less to be regretted, as a tide in his affairs had taken place. On the very day that he had propitiated the new saint, and received absolution, his great antagonist, William the Lion, king of Scotland, was taken pi-isoner. The Scots were besieg- ing the castle of Alnwick, and plundering the surround- ing country, when some of the English barons, with 400 horse, rode forth in quest of an adventure on the morn- ing, during a heavy mist. When the fog cleared, they unexpectedly saw before them the towers of Alnwick, and a body of about sixty Scottish horse, who were amusing themselves in playful careering before their king, on a level meadow. William mistook the English for a party of his own men returned from plundering ; but when he found his mistake, he scorned the thought of a retreat. He couched his lance, and exclaiming, ' Now shall we see who are good knights!' he rushed boldly amidst the enemy, but was unhorsed at the first charge, and made prisoner, with tiie greater part of iiis followers. Henry was awakened at midnight with the tidings, at which he leapt from his bed, and wept for joy. The captivity of the king of Scotland, tbe most powerful of Henry's enemies, dissolved the coalition, so that the rebellious English barons strove who should be first in making submission. Henry then crossed to Normandy with his Brabanfons, where he so effectu- ally harassed his enemies on the continent, that the king of France was compelled to a peace of which his rival dictated the terms, and the three princes were once 112 MILITARY HISTORY. move received into favour. The heaviest punishment for this unnatural war fell upon the head of the captive king of Scotland ; and he was not released until he had agreed, at Falaise, iu Normandy, in the month of De- cember, to swear fealty to Henry, and do homage for Scotland, and all his other possessions. The moral influence of Henry's administration, his admirable conduct in peace, and his valour and success in war, had now made him renowned among the nations of Christendom, and of this an illustrious proof was afforded in 1177. Sanchez, king of Navarre, and Al- phonso, king cf Castile, having long been rivals and enemies, at length submitted their disputes to the arbi- tration of the king of England. It was a new and glo- rious spectacle in that age, to see the advocates of these great sovereigns pleading their respective causes before the royal tribunal of England, in implicit reliance upon its wisdom and justice — and that their reliance was not misapplied appeared from the fact, that both parties were gratified by Henry's decision. During the few years of unwonted peace that succeeded this prosperity, he also established wise military laws for the defence of the king- dom. In 1181, he published his assize of arms, tlie excellence of which was so apparent, that it was adopted by other countries. According to this new regulation, every earl, baron, and knight, was to have ready for service as many complete suits of armour as he had knight's fees. Every freeman, who was worth sixteen marks in rents or goods, was to have a suit of the same armour; every freeman who had half that amount, was to have an habergeon, an iron skull-cap, and a lance ; and every free burgess was to have a wambois, a skull- cap, and a lance.* These arms were neither to be lent, sold, pawned, nor given away, but to be kept in con- stant readiness for active service. Peace and mutual confidence were not to be perma- nent in the family of Henry, and his sons were once more ready to take the field. Tliere was a wild romantic story in the family of Anjou, that its founder had been seduced into marriage with a beautiful but mysterious * The habergeon was a coat of plate or cliain mail, in the form of a shirt without sleeves. Tlie wambois was a coat composed of many folds of linen stuffed with cotton, wool, or hair quilted, 'aud covered with buck or . If we fall into the hands of our enemies, they ^%ill cruelly torment us. That life, there- fore, which our Creator gave, let us willingly and de- votedly return to him with our own hands.' Most of the hearers applauded the proposal, upon -which they 120 MILITARY HISTORY, proceeded to burn their costly garments, and destroy their rich vessels, aud precious stoues. When they had thus deprived their enemies of the expected spoil, Jocen, the wealthiest of their number, stabbed his wife ; the rest of the women were then slain, after which the men plunged their weapons into their own breasts. On the morning, a few pale and trembling- men, who had not followed the example of their brethren, opened the gates to the besiegers upon a promise of immunity, and were instantly put to death; after which, the bonds of Christian debts to Jewish creditors were taken from the cathedral in which they had been deposited, aud committed to the flames. In spite of this massacre of Hebrew usurers, Richard soon showed that the greatest of peculators still sur- vived in himself, by the methods which he adopted to raise money. He sold royal castles and possessions ; he sold honours and important offices ; he sold the superiority of the crown of England over Scotland — and he even declared that he would sell England itself if he could find a bidder. By these, and still more in- glorious deeds of traffic, he gathered an immense sum, to defray the expenses of his campaign ; and such was the activity with which his preparations were made, that on the 11th of December (1190), he embarked at Dover with a more powerful armament than England had ever sent from her shores. The armies of France and Eng- land mustered on the plains of Vezelay, to the number of 100,000 warriors, who after marching together to Lyons, separated ; Philip Augustus resolving to embark at Genoa, while Richard proposed to set sail from Mar- seilles. The fleets of the two nations reached Messina, where the hosts resolved to winter ; and here the kings of France and England exhibited that mutual jealousy which was so materially to aflfect the campaign. A hollow reconciliation followed, and Richard, after con- tracting an affiance with Berengaria, daughter of the king of Navarre, to the rejection of the French king's sister, set sail from Messina on the lOth of April. His fleet how- ever was scattered by a storm, and the ship that carried the fair Berengaria and his sister was driven upon the island of Cyprus, the petty king or emperor of which would not permit the ladies to land. He even plundered the other English ships that were stranded upon the RICHARD I. 121 coast. As soon as Richard heard these tidings, the cru- sade was for the moment forgot : he landed with his whole army in Cyprus, easily defeated the half armed Cypriots in two engagements, and took their sovereign prisoner, whom he put into silver chains. Here, several of the rulers of Palestine arrived, to implore Richard to hasten his march ; upon which he solemnized his nup- tials with Berengaria, and on June the 8th he airived at Acre, where his prowess in behalf of the cross was to be first exhibited. This town, so famous in the history of modern sieges, had been invested for above two years by the Christian army, composed of adventurous bands from different parts of Europe ; and above 300,000 men are said to have perished during the siege. The king of France, who first arrived to their aid, prevented them from resigning the task in despair ; but it was the coming of Richard that turned the tide of affairs. On the voyage he had captured an immense dromond, bringing supplies to the besieged ; and as he entered the port, he saw the city surrounded with the tents of European warriors, while the distant heights were crowned with the numerous army of Saladin, ready to throw supplies into the city, or to rush down upon the besiegers. Richard's first engines, which he planted against the gates, were consumed by the terrible Greek fire ; new ones were constructed, and these were as speedily destroyed, while the king of England himself, who had sickened with the heat of the climate, was so disabled by disease, that he was carried to the trenches and works upon a silken mattress. In spite of this, he superintended every operation in per- son, and frequently discharged with his own hands the mangonels and arbalists that were planted against the walls. This inspiriting example animated the whole crusading army, and the Saracens were so closely pressed that they offered to surrender, on condition of being allowed to depart with their arms and goods. ' No,' cried Richard, ♦ after such exertions, we must gain something more than an empty town.' At last, an agreement was ratified with Saladin, that the garrison should march out in their shirts only, and remain hostages with the Christians until he had paid 200,000 bezants for the ransom of his soldiers, who were prison- ers — and that he should restore a fragment of the true G 122 MILITARY HISTORY. cross which had fallen into his possession, and '2,.^00 of the principal Christian captives. On the I'ith of July, 1191, Acre was triumphantly entered, and the two kings of France and Eni^laud planted their standards on the walls, over their respective portions of the town. Leopold, the duke of Austria, also attempted to set up his banner, to the great indignation of the English, who said, ' Do you, a mere duke, put yourself on a footing with kings?' * I fight,' replied the offended potentate, ' I make war, by my own authority ; and, under God, I acknowledge no superior but St. Peter.' It has been added, that Richard caused the standard to be torn down, and thrown contemptuously into the ditch ; an insult which the duke did not readily forget. This beginning of success to the Christian arms was the principal cause of the failure of the crusade. Al- though Philip Augustus was generalissimo, as well as the feudal superior of Richard, yet the open-handed liberality of the latter, combined with his splendid personal bravery, soon threw his politic rival into the shade, and the king of France was anxious to withdraw from an association in which he felt himself eclipsed. Perhaps he also expected to recover some of the conti- nental possessions of England during the absence of Richard. Philip Augustus, therefore, pretending ill health, announced his intention of returning to France, to the great astonishment of the crusading princes. Richard implored him to stay, now that the way to Jerusalem was opened by the conquest of Acre ; but the French king was obdurate. He would only con- sent to leave 10,000 of his soldiers under the duke of Burgundy : he also took an oath that he would not molest the territories of Richard, during his absence ; after which he set sail to France, on the 1st of August. The watchful Saladin, who exulted in this secession, thought that he could now safely elude the hard terms of the surrender of Acre. But the fierce Richard, as soon as he perceived this intention, took revenge in a manner that was accounted barbarous even during the middle ages. On the 15th of August, while he and his army were celebrating the assumption of the blessed Tirgin, he caused 2,500 of the brave garrison of Acre to fee led to an adjoining meadow, and there massacred without exception. The Christians even explored the RICHARD I. 123 mangled carcases, in the hope of finding gold, which they supposed tlie captives might have swallowed, and they converted the gall, which they found in the dead hodies, into medicines. Nine days after this atrocity, the camp of the crusa- ders was broken up, for the purpose of marching to Askalon ; and Saladiu, burning with the desire of ven- geance, hastened to prevent them. The Christians, who now mustered little more than 30,000 men, were obliged to march in a dense mass, and fighting order, winding their way slowly through the deserts, amidst hunger, thirst, and excessive heat, while a hostile army, nearly ten times their number, hovered incessantly in their front, flank, and rear, and cut off every straggler who wandered but a few paces from the main body. The Mahomedans also planted the ground, where they knew the Christians would encamp, with sharp knives and other instruments, that gashed the legs of the horses, and brought their riders to the ground. Nothing could be more magnificently contrasted as a military spectacle than the concentrated mass of northern chi- valry, glittering with iron, and bristled with spears, while the myriads of the desert, in their picturesque costume, hovered upon every point, and retreated or advanced with the rapidity of a whirlwind. To add to the terrors of the crusaders, they saw, for the first time, bauds of negroes in the service of Saladin, at which spectacle they shuddered. It seemed to their maddened imaginations, amidst the agonies of their march, as if fiends, as well as men and warring elements, had been summoned to destroy them. Every night, when the Christian army encamped, the heralds went about with the cry, ♦ God help the holy sepulchre !' which was re- echoed three times by the whole body of warriors. During this terrible progress, Richard, who had made arrangements with the skill of a most able commander, showed a personal prowess that seemed to realize even the wildest dreams of romance. Before he left England, he had caused a mighty battle-axe to be made, into the head of which twenty pounds of steel were wrought ; this weapon, wielded by an arm that excelled the strength of common mortals, hewed the linked mail and quilted turbans of the enemy asunder, and with a single stroke often sent man and horse to the ground. 124 MILITARY HISTORY. Choosing his station wherever clanger was most press- ing, he was always the foremost in driving back the assailants, so that the name of Melee Ric (or king Richard) was a name of dread, at which the boldest Mussulmans trembled. At length a conference was demanded, and Aladil, a Turkish prince, was sent on the part of Saladin, of whom Richard required the surrender of all the countries taken from the Christians in Syria ; and, as might be expected, the proposal was refused. Both sides therefore prepared for the arbitration of a decisive battle in the neighbourhood of Jaffa, which occurred on the 6th of September (1191). The Turks, Arabs, and Egyptians, rushed on amidst a tremendous clangour of drums, trumpets, and cymbals, and loud bowlings that almost drowned the notes of martial music, while the crusaders stood firm to receive them, with linked shields and levelled lances. The air was soon darkened with the arrows of the sons of the desert, and the Eng- lish were falling in multitudes, when the Knights Hos- pitallers, impatient of the deadly shower, demanded permission to charge ; but Richard commanded them to stand fast, and be patient. The Turks, encouraged by this forbearance, rushed on to closer combat ; but Richard still waited till the rage of the barbarians should throw them into disorder. It was only by a close and hand-to-hand charge, that the iron chivalry of Europe could reach and overwhelm their light antagonists. The signal for this purpose was given at the critical moment, and the Christian knights, as soon as they heard the English ti-umpets, darted from the opening ranks of infantry, and burst through the light-armed squadrons of the Mahomedans. In such a conflict, the latter could not stand for a moment. Thousands were trampled under foot beneath the heavy-mailed chivalry of the north ; and although Saladin flew from rant to rank, and endeavoured to rally his warriors, they en- countered wherever they turned the ten-ible presence and resistless battle-axe of Melee Ric, who, after having arranged the whole conflict, was fighting in the front with a prowess that appeared supernatural. The battle, which raged from morning till night, ended in the com- plete defeat of the Mahomedans, with great slaughter, flo that Saladin, despairing of being able to keep the RICHAUD I. 125 field, was obliged to dismantle Caesaiea, Askalon, Joppa, and other towns, to strengthen the defences of Jeru- salem. Richard, by this victory, obtained command of the sea-coast, in consequence of which he built or re- stored several fortresses, although interrupted by skir- mishes with the Turks. Like a true knight, he also mingled sport with warfare, an indulgence that, on one occasion, had almost cost him dear. He set out, accom- panied by a noble party, with falcons on their wrists, intending to indulge in the favourite amusement of hawking, when the whole unarmed train fell into an ambush of the Turks. Nothing but flight could save them, and the stout warriors spurred in desperation ; but the fleet steeds of the wilderness would soon have overtaken the king, had it not been for the devotedness of William de Preaux, a brave and goodly warrior, who threw himself in the way of the pursuers, crying out, that he was Melee Ric. The barbarians were overjoyed at their fancied success, and can-ied their captive to Saladin, who pardoned and honoured him for his fidelity. On another occasion, a small band of Templars, •while employed in foraging, were surrounded by 5,000 cavalry. The king, who was near with a few knights, sent them forward to the rescue, while he should buckle on his armour ; but they retreated from the unequal conflict, and advised him to flee also. Indig- nantly he exclaimed, ' If I do not assist those friends, whom I sent into perils with the promise of aid, I will never usurp the name of king more.' Half-armed as he was, he rushed into the thickest of the conflict, dealing such tremendous blows with his axe, that heads and limbs flew asunder in every direction, and the over- powered knights of the Temple were efi'ectually rescued from destruction. But although by these and other deeds of transcend- ant chivalry, the name of Richard became so famous among the Mussulmans, that they were wont to still their children, and even threaten their unruly horses with the word, Jerusalem was not to be conquered even by such prowess as his. Saladin was to the full as skilful a leader, while he was a far better politician, than the king of England ; and although his light forces might be inferior in the shock of battle to the massive. 126 MILITARY HISTORY. well-appointed ranks of the crusaders, yet they were better fitted for the harassing warfare of a long march, and much more numerous. The Christians also were overpowered by the elements, still more than by the weapons of their enemies. Their horses died from wet and hunger ; the provisions of the soldiers were damaged ; their armour was covered with rust, and their bodies were enfeebled with disease. Then also dissension, the worst enemy of a suflering army, broke out among them. Thus, when the Christians had marched from Jaffa towards Jerusalem, and reached the neigh- bourhood of the Holy City, after much toil and skir- mishing, the French party pretended that it was too strong to be besieged, and clamoured for a return to Askalon, with which the indignant Richard was forced to comply. He thus saw the fruits of all his labours and victories torn in an instant from his grasp, so that when the army ascended an eminence, to behold Jerusalem he held his shield before his face, as if unworthy to look upon that sacred place which he was unable to rescue. His indignation, on returning to Askalon and repairing the city, broke forth upon those who had thus thwarted his favourite design ; and the chief of these happened to be his old adversary Leopold. While the nobles and commanders, and even the king of England, worked like common labourers to strengthen the de- fences, the duke of Austria stood still, and looked on. His sullen reply to remonstrance was, ' My father was not a mason, and I was not bred a carpenter.' Richard, we are told, in the bitterness of his indignation, actually kicked the duke. But the most urgent cause for Richard's departure from Palestine existed at this period in the disturbances in England. Philip Augustus, on his return to France, forgot his oaths, and entered into intrigues with John, to displace his brother Richard ; and he also endea- voured to make an irruption into l^ormandy, for the purpose of subduing it, while England itself was rent into factions between John, and Longchamp the Jus- ticiary. Even before the works of Askalon were com- pleted, the duke of Burgundy, too, had allured the French, Genoese, and other auxiliaries, to separate from the main army, and return home by the way of Acre and Tyre. The force of these circumstances com- RICHARD I. 127 elled Richard to retreat •vyith his enfeebled and iitiiinished forces; and Saladin, taking confidence from ;iis circumstance, advanced, to recover Jaffa. Richard lade a last exertion to protect this portion of his Syrian )iiquests, and hastened by sea to its relief, and a battle I illowed in which Saladin was driven from the town. I'he Sultan however attempted a night surprise, in which he wzis nearly successful. Richard finding' the enemy upon him before he was aware, hastily armed Jiimself, collected a handful of gallant foUowei-s, and rushed into the thickest of the conflict. His irresistible ; I'jwess on this, as on other occasions, baffle i every Ivautage of position and numbers on the part of the iiiemy, so that they quailed, and fled before him. In tills nocturnal eng-ag-emeut an accident happened charac- teristic of the warfare of the chivalrous ages. Richard was met, as he was fighting in front of his men, and on foat, by Saphadin, the brother of Saladin, upon which the gallant Syrian presented his antagonist with two noble steeds, that he might be mounted as became a king. The prodigious exertions of Richard on this oc- casion saved his army, but threw him into a slow fever, and finding that he could not recall the recreant French to his banner, a truce with Saladin followed, which was to last fjr three years, three months, three weeks, three days, and three hours — a fantastic number sanc- tioned by the usages of chivalry. Richard, during his illness, had received every act of courtesy from his high- minded adversary, Saladin often sending him fruits and ice to accelerate his recovery. Thus the king of Eng- land, although he had secured no immediate political advantages from such an immense expenditure of men and money upon this sacred expedition, had impressed upon the Mahomedan world a sense of the northern valour which they were compelled to respect for ages ; and he had also unconsciously maimed the right arm of the enemy of Christendom, so that the ambitious schemes of the East were indefinitely postponed. It is only in such results that we perceive the real advantage of the crusades. If, centuries after these periods, the Turks were able to take Constantinople, and threaten Vienna, what would have been the termination of their career but for these early obstacles ? Previous to the departure of Richard from Palestine, 129 MILITARY HISTORY, it was necessary to bestow the crown of Jerusalem, for which there were two competitors — Guy of Lusignan, his favourite, and Conrade, of Montferrat, the brave defender of Tyre against Saladin. Such an honour was little more than nominal, as the real power was in the hands of the Soldan ; but, like other nominal honours, it was not the less keenly contested ; and Richard, yielding his private feelings to the common wish, con- ferred the title upon the marquis of Montferrat, while to comfort the unsuccessful candidate, he conferred upon Guy his own conquest of the kingdom of Cyprus. Unfortunately, Conrade did not long enjoy his empty dignity, having been murdered in the streets of Tyre by two emissaries of an eastern potentate, called The Old Man of the Mountains. On being put to the torture, these miscreants gloried in the deed, and acknowledged the master who had set them on ; but in spite of this confession, it was alleged, by the French party, that Richard was the instigator — as if one so proud and fear- less would have hired a mercenary dagger. Richard slowly recovered from his sickness, and pre- pared to return home. Having embarked the queen and his sister, he followed in a swift-sailing ship, which left the port of Acre on the 25th of October (1192), amidst the prayers and tears of the inhabitants, who were charmed with his liberality and valour. But it was now that the most perilous part of his career awaited him. Tempests fii-st arose, so that for six weeks he was sepa- rated from his fleet, and buffeted by the waves ; and when the storms had assuaged, his ship was boarded by pirates, in the neighbourhood of Corfu. The king, who admired the hardy valour of these depredators, made himself known to them, and persuaded them to carry him to Zara, where he landed ; and he there resumed, with his attendants, his journey on foot, disguised as a pilgrim, and under the name of Hugh the merchant. But Richard was ill qualified to support any disguise ; and having sent the princely gift of a rich jewel to the governor of Goritz, in order to obtain a passport, this chieftain well knew that wandering merchants were not in the habit of giving such presents, and he concluded that so liberal an applicant could be no other than Richard himself. The king was startled when he learnt that he was discovered, more especially as he knew that RICHARD !. 129 the governor was a nephew of the mnrdLred Conrade, whose assassination had been laid to his charge ; and thei-efore he escaped from the dangerous neighbourhood, and after journeying' for three days and three nights without food, attended only by a knight and a young lad, he arrived at a town near Vienna, on the Danube. But this escape only brought him into greater danger, for Leopold of Austria happened, at that time, to be in the town. The king, however, who was exhausted with hunger and fatigue, halted at an obscure cottage to rest, while he sent the lad, who could speak German, to pur- chase food. The young attendant imprudently carried his master's embroidered gloves in his girdle, which at- tracted the inquiries of the town's people respecting the real rank of his employer ; but his answers were so confused that they threatened to employ the torture, upon which he confessed the truth. These were glorious tidings to the archduke, in whose mind the disgraces endured at Acre and Askalon were still I'ankling, and he beset the cottage with an armed force, the noise of which soon awoke the king. He saw the uselessuess of resist- ance, and surrendered his sword to the archduke, fi-om whom he expected at least the courtesy which one brave enemy owes to another ; but he had not yet fathomed the malice and avarice of the Austrian's dark spirit. The king was treated as a prisoner of war, and sent to close confinement in the castle of Tyernsteign, under the keeping of Hadmar, an Austrian baron. But soon another broker appeared in this scene of treachery, in the person of the emperor of Germany, the feudal supe- rior of Leopold, who told the archduke that none but an emperor was worthy to have a royal captive ; and to en- force this curious argument, he promised the archduke £00,000 out of the ransom which he intended to extort for Richard's deliverance. The bargain was soon settled between these exalted kidnappers, and Richard was transferred to one of the emperor's castles iu the Tyrol, where he was loaded with heavy chains, and delivered to the keeping of trusty guards, who watched over him day and night with drawn swords. The fame which Richard had acquired in Palestine bad endeared him to his warlike subjects, so that all his ruly faults had been fortrotten ; and when they heard of ^ G 2 130 MILITARY HISTORY. his departure from Acre, every bell of ' merry England' was prepared to ring out a welcome, as soon as he should land upon her shores. But weeks and months passed away, and still he came not, and the hearts of his people became sick with the weariness of hope deferred. In the lawless state of Europe at this period, and consi- dering how many were the open or secret enemies of Richard, nothing was more reasonable than to suspect that, if he had escaped the sea, he might be languishing in the prison of some foreign castle ; and an expedient was adopted to ascertain the fact, which, although suffi- ciently romantic, was at the same time so natural, that we see no just ground for discrediting the tale. Blondel, the favourite minstrel of Richard, who was himself a Troubadour of no mean skill, resolved to commence a pilgrimage in quest of the master whom he had so dearly loved; and taking his harp in his hand, he passed safely through various countries, protected by his almost sacred office, and gaining a welcome in town and tower, by the charms of his minstrelsy. It is probable, although we are not informed by the story, that be was at length enabled to track the course of the king to Germany ; and that there he learned enough to surmise the country of Richard's captivity. He wandered among the moun- tains of the Tyrol, until he came to a stately castle, near the walls of which he tuned his harp, and commenced a song which had been the joint production of Richard and himself; and as he sang, every alternate stanza was chanted by a deep voice from within. He knew that it was the voice of his beloved master, and now his mission was accomplished. He hurried to England ; and every country soon resounded with the indignant cry, that the great hero of the age and champion of the cross was a prisoner to the emperor of Germany. All his friends in England and France immediately entered into negotiations for his deliverance ; and when the emperor demurred, the pope threatened him with the thunder of the church, if he persevered in detaining its bravest de- fender. At length, after much negotiation, the reluctant emperor consented to release his prisoner for a ransom of one hundred thousand marks of silver ; and the Eng- lish raised this exorbitant sum with joyful alacrity, the clergy even melting down the church plate for the deli- RICHARD I. 131 verance of the hero of the church.* Richard wa? set at liberty on the 4tb of February, 1194, after an unjust bondage of nearly fourteen months. It was indeed full time that the king of England should return to his dominions, as confusion and trea- chery had predominated during his absence. The king of France, notwithstanding his oath to respect the do- minions of Richard, had applied to the pope for a dis- pensation, immediately on his return from Palestine ; and on this being denied, he would have invaded Nor- mandy, but his barons, who were more scrupulous thau himself, refused to second him. He also tampered with the wicked and imbecile John, who endeavoured to usurp the crown of England, under the pretence that Richard was dead. But the English nobility were faith- ful to their sovereign, and his hopes were disappointed. As soon as the king's captivity was known by Philip Augustus and John, they hoped to make his imprison- ment perpetual, by working upon the emperor's cupi- dity, and it was chiefly by their intrigues that the negotiation was protracted during five months. Even when the treaty was ratified with the English com- missioners, John and his ally endeavoured to break it, by offering the emperor double the amount of ransom to detain Richard in prison ; and the emperor would have complied, had it not been for the terrors of the pontiff, and the integrity of his own nobles. All these clouds were soon dissipated by the landing of Richard in England, and as he rode through the streets of Loudon, such was the intoxication of triumph among his people, and the magnificence with which he was received, that some German knights who had accompa- nied him, could not help exclaiming, ' Sir King, had our Caesar known of such wealth, your ransom would not have been so easy !' Richard, who felt as if his bondage had un-kinged and degraded him, caused himself to be crowned anew with great pomp, on the 17th of April, after which, breathing out nothing but vengeance against the treachery of Philip Augustus, he made every prepa- ration to invade France. Such was his eagerness for this expedition that, in the following month, he landed at * With part of this dishonestly acquired money Vienna was frtrfified with walls — those verv walls which, in our own dav, wtre so inefTertnal for the protection of the German cajiital, ajrainst one who faili d at Acre. 132 MILITARY HISTORY. Barfleur. Here John, who now forsook his ally in ini- quity, repaired to the presence of his oflfended brother, with ci-awling supplications, and was received with for- giveness. Six years of desultory warfare between France and England now ensued, the events of which however are so uninteresting as to be unworthy of detail, consisting chiefly of the surprise of fortresses and petty skirmishes, in which little advantage was gained on either side ; and these were generally followed by truces that showed the weakness of both parties. Both kings, indeed, had exhausted their finances in the expedition to Palestine, so that their individual qualities, more than the number of their forces, were at issue, and in such a conflict the impetuous valour of Richard was counteracted by the cool, cautious policy of his rival. The chief action that occurred, during these wars, was one fought near Gisors, in which Philip, at the head of three hundred knights, with their squires, and a large body of cavalry, was completely defeated. The French fled in confusion towards the fortress of Gisors, and the English followed pell-mell, when the bridge along which the king of France was hurrying broke down, and precipitated bim, heavily armed as he was, with twenty of his knights, into the river Epte. Here he would have been drowned, but for the chivalrous devotedness of his fol- lowers, who rallied against the pursuers, and perished to a man, that he might have time to escape. Richard, in describing this event, exultingly told, how he had obliged his rival to drink of the waters of the Epte. Another event which gratified the personal resentment of the king of England during this war was, the capture of Philip, bishop of Beauvais. This ecclesiastic was so enamoured of military renown, that he was wont to take the field at the head of his followers, and his fame for personal prowess was almost as great as that of Richard himself. But as he had still some scruples of conscience in his warlike capacity, he respected the canon which prohibited a priest from blood-shedding, and usually wielded a huge mace in battle, with which he unhorsed his enemies, or knocked them on the head, without spilling their blood. Of all the enemies of Richard, none was more imbittered against him than this belligerent ecclesiastic, so that when the king was RICHARD I. 133 the prisoner of tbe emperor, he had intrigued for the prolon;iation of his captivity. But in a skirruish under the walls of Beauvais, the bishop was taken prisoner by .Marcadee, the comruander of Richard's mercenaries, and brought to the king, by whom he was immediately loaded with the heaviest irons, and thrown into a dun- geon. The unfortunate prelate endeavoured to stir up the pope to procure his release, and the latter accord- ingly sent a supplicating letter to Richard, entreating him to release ' his dear son, the bishop of Beauvais.' Richard sent back to the pontifl' the battered and blood- stained armour of the priest, with the following text : ' This have we found ; know, now, whether it be thy son's coat or no.' • Not of a son of mine !' cried the pontiff, smiling — ' it is the coat of a son of Mars : let Mars deliver him if he will.' The bishop did not recover his liberty until Richard died. That event, which took place in the year 1199, was altogether unworthy of Coeur de Lion's high character and station. An ancient treasure had been discovered on the estate of Vidomar, count of Limoges, who ofTered a portion of it to Richard, as his superior lord. But the king demanded the whole ; * and on being refused, he laid siege to the castle of Chaluz, in which the treasure was contained. The garrison offered to surrender, but the king, incensed at their resistance, vauntingly told them, that he would take the castle by force, and put them all to death. On the fourth day of the siege, as he vas riding round the walls, to discover the most favour- able point of onset, one of the garrison, called Bertram de Jourdan, a cross-bowman, took steady aim, and struck tbe king with an iron-headed bolt in the left shoulder. The wound was trivial, but such was the unskilfuluess of the surgeons in attempting to extract the arrow, that a mortification foUowed.t The assault in the mean time * By the feudal law the crown could claim all treas^ire-trove— that -, money, plate, or buhion, found hidden in the earth. Richard's de- .-aii(i, therefore, was perfectly consistent with justice. t Of thi- nature of surgery at this pernid, we have a very curious ^jeciraen in the case of the archdukt of Austii i, the enemy of 'Rich ird. I : con.-equence of a fall at a tournament, his leg was bruised, and a -i.iiirene ensued. The amputaiiou of the limb w.is declared iniis- ■ nsable for the recovery f>f the patient ; but no one had the necessary .1 f•; and not only the remission of all sins was pro- i=ed to those who embarked in such a holy war, but the crown of England, forfeited by the crimes of its wearer, was held out as the reward of the victor. Philip A'igustus, who at least valued the temporal part of these conditions, now stood forward as the prime champion of tlie church, and about the middle of March he was pre- pared to invade England with a fleet of 1,700 sail. But although the English ships tiiumphantly swept the coasts of Normandy, and confined the enemy to their harbours, while 60,000 soldiers were mustered on Barham Downs, to repel the invaders, the heart of John utterly failed him. He knew that he had lost the afiections of his people, so that he was as much afraid of his own soldiers as of the enemy. Besides being both a boaster and a coward, be was as abjectly superstitious as he was recklessly yrofane ; and the prediction of a certain prophet, called Peter of Pomfret, that he should lose his crown before t je feast of Ascension was over, had utterly dismayed •:v spirit that was wont to defy all higher sanctions. locent had now brought the trembler to the yielding lit, and nothing was necessary but negotiation; upon 140 MILITARY HISTORY. which Pandulph, one of the most able of the cardinals, was sent to John with offers of accommodation. The wily Italian so wrought upon his hopes and fears, by ter- rible pictures of the French king's preparations ou the one hand, and the representations of the clement spirit of the church on the other, that John conceded every thing which the most successful conqueror could have de- manded. He consented to become the vassal of the pope, and to hold England of him in fee, by the payment of an annual tribute ; he also agreed to receive Langton as archbishop of Canterbury, and make restitution to those churchmen he had despoiled ; and in token of this sur- render, he took the oath of papal allegiance upon his knees, delivered up to Pandulph the crown of England, and presented the first payment of the tribute-money, upon which the cardinal scornfully .set his foot. The Italian had now a more difficult pupil to manage in Philip Augustus, who was to be taught that farther proceedings were unnecessary, John having become a penitent son of the church, and England itself a fief of the Holy See. But the French king was indignant at this argu- ment : he declared that he had undertaken all this toil and expense at the command of the pontitV, and for the welfare of his soul, and that he could not suspend his operations when success was so completely within his reach. He even continued his march to the coast, in spite of the papal thunder that began to menace him as fiercely as it had done his rival ; and perhaps he would have embarked for the invasion of England, but for the rebellion of Ferrand, earl of Flanders, one of his most powerful vassals. John, who aided the earl on this occasion, sent a powerful fleet against that of France ; and the great battle of Damme followed, in which the French navy was utterly annihilated by that of England. The hostility of France was thus suspended for A. u. a time; but John, no longer apprehensive of in- 1215. vasion, continued to make enemies among his own subjects. He had so completely disgusted the nobility, that they refused to follow his banner into France, upon which he imported large hordes of savage Brabanjons into the kingdom, with whom he hoped to crush all opposition, and make himself absolute. The nobles were thus compelled to strike for liberty in self-defence ; and with archbishop Langton at their MAGNA CHARTA. 141 ad, they mustered their followers, swore to stand by h other, aud agreed upon the chief terms of the uarter, by which the power of the crown was to be restricted, and the liberty of the subject ensured. In consequence of this formidable coalition, John once raore humbled himself before the church, and im- plored its interference ; upon which the court of Rome, that had formerly played off the barons ag-ainst the king', now espoused his cause against the barons, and commanded them to desist upon pain of spiritual cen- sure. But the nobles, who were banded together in a good cause, were not to be so easily humbled by ecclesiastical terrors as their sovereign ; and they de- termined that, unless the king complied with their demand, they would withdraw their allegiance, and proceed against him as a national enemy. John soon found himself deserted, and he craved some delay that he might deliberate upon their proposals ; but when the appointed period of meeting arrived, he was startled at the tremendous military apparition which his mis- rule had conjured up. In Easter week, the great barons of the realm, followed by 2,000 knights, and an immense host of armed retainers, met at Stamford, and proceeded to the neighbourhood of Oxford, where arch- bishop Langton, and the earls of Pembroke and War- renne, presented to the king a schedule, containing the list of their demands. As soon as John glanced over the parchment, he exclaimed, in a rage, ' Why do they not demand my crown also? By God's teeth, I will not i-ive them such grants as will make me nothing but a slave !' Pandulph now interposed in behalf of John, and proposed that Langton should excommunicate the confederated nobles; but the heroic primate, instead of complying, threatened to excommunicate John's mer- cenaries unless they were dismissed the kingdom. The kinjr's obstinacy occasioned another delay ; but during the interval, the army of God and of Holy Church (for such was the title which the confederates had adopted), u as so powerfully reinforced by the burghers of Eng- land, as to bear down and overwhelm all resistance. John at last yielded, when his concession could no longer claim any merit. On the loth of June, which was the day appointed for the meeting between the king and his subjects for ratifying the treaty, the parties 142 MILITARY HISTORY. assembled at Runnimede, John being attended only by a few friends, while on the other side were assembled the whole nobility of England ; and on the scroll being presented, he signed, with a readiness that was truly suspicious, the Magna Charta, or Great Charter, which forms the boast and the safeguard of English liberty. But promises and oaths cost the tyrant nothing ; and scarcely was the ink. of his signature dry, when he began to devise means to set the charter aside. He sent therefore to the continent for fresh bands of foreign adventurers, and to the pontiff for ecclesiastical aid against his insurgent nobles. He also commanded such of his creatures as he had invested with English pos- sessions to draw their followers together, and prepare their castles for defence. These were direct infringe- ments of the fundamental principles of the charter, and the alarmed barons proceeded to remonstrate ; but John, assuming an air of frankness, pretended to laugh at their suspicions as groundless, and gave them every assurance they required. At length he was so strongly reinforced by bands of mercenaries who daily thronged to him from Poictou and Gascony, from Brabant and Flanders, that he threw off the mask, attacked the castle of Rochester, and after a siege of eight weeks forced the garrison to capitulate, in spite of the barons by whose forces it was protected. Upon this disaster, a papal excommunication against the insurgents followed, the pontiff declaring that the English barons were worse than misbelieving Saracens for making war against so religious a king. John followed up his success, by leav- ing a strong detachment to menace the metropolis, and marching towards Nottingham, marking his whole tract by fire and slaughter. From Nottingham he proceeded to Yorkshire, burning and slaying as he advanced ; so that the miseries of the Norman conquests, or even a Danish invasion, were outdone, John himself giving the example to his followers, by setting fire, in the morning, to the house in which he had stayed the previous night. Wherever the Brabangons came, they inflicted the most horrible tortures upon the English, to force them to confess where they had concealed their monej' ; and when the castle of a noble was taken, it was given to the keeping of some needy, foreign mercenary. In the mean time the barons, who had taken their station in DAUPHIN'S INVASION OF ENGLAND. 143 le metropolis, were confined within its walls by the roe which John had left to overawe them, and they x\v the land devastated, and their own possessions )ilundered, without being- able to relieve or revenge the e brink of ruin. Only four castles re- mained in possession of the patriots ; and Baliol no longer finding an enemy in the field, convoked a parliament at Edinburgh, where he did homage to Edward for the kingdom of Scotland, and surrendered the frontier pro- vinces of Berwick, Roxburgh, Selkirk, and Dumfries, and the district of Lothian. But although the country was thus reduced, the national spirit was still nncon- quered ; and several brave leaders, such as Sir Andrew Moray of Bothwell, the steward of Scotland, and the FRUITLESS INVASION OF SCOTLAND. 199 young earl of Randolph, continued the contest by a par- tisan warfare, in which they were so successful, that Baliol, after witnessing^ the repeated defeats of his best supporters, lost heart, and fled once more into England. Edward again entered Scotland with a powerful army to support him, and secure the provinces that had been ceded to him by the late treaty ; but the Scots, warned by their late misfortunes, avoided meeting him in the field, so that after his troops had been severely annoyed by famine, he was compelled to return to England. Edward and Baliol made a fresh inroad into Scot- land in the following year, with separate armies, and ravaged the country with merciless severity. The Eng- lish king finding no open resistance, thought the country effectually subdued, and left Baliol with a body of troops to receive the homage of the people ; but on the departure of the former, the nobles of the Brucean party rushed from their concealments, and attacked the partisans of Baliol with their former success. Edward thus found that the whole work must be done anew; and therefore he again invaded Scotland, slaying and destroying till he came to Inverness. Here, however, he was effectu- ally matched by Sir Andrew Moray, the old friend and follower of Wallace, who adopted the tactics of his heroic teacher, and kept up a harassing warfare on the front, flank, and rear of the English army, without coming to an engagement. Wherever Edward advanced he found the country laid waste before him by an enemy whom he always felt, but could never overtake ; and at last he was obliged, in consequence of want of provisions, to retrace his way to England. After Edward had been thus forced to retire, the Scots, no longer awed by a superior army, were enabled to resume that guerilla warfare in which they could best hope for success ; and deeds of chivalry, rather than pitched battles, once more effected the deliverance of Scotland. The castle of Dunbar, which was besieged by the earl of Montague, was gallantly defended by the countess, commonly called the Black Agnes of Dunbar, a daughter of the heroic Randolph, who seemed to inherit her father's military skill. She baffled every attempt of the assailants, like a good warrior ; and not content with merely repelling them, she taunted them bitterly, like a very woman, from the walls. On ono 209 MILITARY HISTORY, occasion, the English advanced that testudo called a sew to the ramparts ; upon which the lady exclaimed, in scoffing rhyme— Beware, Montagow, For larrow shall thv sow. A huge rock was then discharged upon the engine, which was crushed to pieces. The English in despair resolved to convert the siege into a blockade, and reduce Dunbar by famine ; but Sir Alexander Ramsay, in a dark night, sent a small ship laden with provisions to the castle, and Montague was obliged to retreat. The steward of Scot- land, aided by a few troops from France, laid siege to Perth, which was held for England; and here William Bullock, a fighting priest, politician, and military en- gineer, did good service to Scotland. J3uring an eclipse of the sun, while all stood aghast in superstitious terror, Bullock, who laughed at omens, availed himself of the darkness to wheel his engines close to the walls; so that when light returned, the besieged found themselves overtopped, and were obliged to surrender. Douglas, the knight of Liddisdale, commonly called, the Flower of Chivalry, after giving several defeats to the English, besieged the castle of Edinburgh, which at that time was reckoned impregnable, and contrived to introduce within the gateway a number of his soldiers, disguised like English sailors, laden with wine aiid provisions. As soon as they had mastered the sentinels, fhe knight of Liddisdale and his followers rushed fi'om their ambush, and made themselves masters of the castle. It was by such achievements that the cause of the family of Bruce and that of national independence were restored, so that David, the young king, and his spouse, who had been sent to France for safety during the ascendancy of the rival house, were recalled to their kingdom in 1341. The effects of these wars, however, were such as to make humanity shudder at the narrative. Those persons who were not so happy as to perish in the field of battle, were assailed by all the miseries of disease and famine ; the Avolves and the deer inhabited those wastes that had lately been cultivated and populous plains ; and one in- stance occurred, wherein a man and his wife were detected in the monstrous crime of feeding upon children, whom they caught in traps set for the purpose. In consequence of these miseries, and a pestilence that EDWARD III. 201 s^vept the land, many fled to France and Flanders, in the vain hope that such terrible calamities could be but short in their duration. But feud and faction still re- mained to waste those whom famine and the sword had spared ; and few of those unhappy exiles lived to see the anticipated period of tranquillity that was to restore them to their native home. EDWARD III. We have already seen the particulars of the early military life of this distinguished conqueror, and the manner in which his youth was trained to warfare against the followers of Wallace and Bruce. While the cause of his vassal Baliol was falling to ruin in Scotland, a more glorious conquest than that of the barren acres of the north was unfolding to his view, so that the poor pageant-king was left to struggle as he best could. This was nothing less than his claim to the crown of France ; a claim in which those terrible wars between France and England originated that raged for centuries, and entailed an inheritance of national hatred between the two kingdoms that has not wholly ceased at the pre- sent period. The Salic law, which had been established in France from the earliest times, had been so strictly observed, that for 900 years no female had been sove- reign of the country. By proscription therefore as well as statute, women were excluded from the throne, and consequently those males also who claimed it through their descent from a female line. The throne was now vacant, and two candidates appeared for the succession : these were Philip of Yalois, son to a brother of Philip the Fair ; and Edward of England, who was son of Isabel, the daughter of the same Philip. The canse of the two parties was debated before an assembly of the states of France ; and while the one pleaded the nearer proximity of Edward to the royal line, the other alleged the male descent of Philip. On this occasion the arguments of the Salic law prevailed, and Philip of Valois was elected to the throne of France, upon which Edward, like other unsuccessful litigants, brooded over the supposed injustice. But as he was powerful as well as angTy, he resolved to reverse the decision by force of K 2 2f)2 MILITARY HISTORY, arms. He was farther incited to this step by Robert d'Artois, brother-in-law of Philip (a malcontent who had taken refuge in England), and by the dissensions that prevailed among the French seigniories ; and he had an ostensible ground for quarrel, in the circumstance of Philip having given aid to the Scots in their late suc- cessful resistance. The preparations of Edward III. were commensurate with the magnitude of the attempt. Besides obtaining extensive grants from his parliament, and mustering numerous troops and vessels, he subsi- dized several princes of Germany and the continent, and entered into an alliance with the democracy of Flanders, and their celebrated leader, James Van Arteveldt, the brewer of Ghent. At last, when all things were in readines?, he set sail from Orewell, in Suffolk, on the 16th of July, 1338, at the head of a powerful armament. But all these magnificent preparations for the campaign ended in nothing. Edward's foreign allies, with the exception of the Flemings, were averse to the conquest of France by the English ; and after receiving their share of subsidies, they only sat still and looked on, while Philip, raising a numerous army and wisely keeping on the defensive, at last obliged Edward to retire into winter quarters without a battle. Edward returned to London, and farther drained his kingdom by fresh imposts, to renew the war, after which he set sail with a large fleet, and obtained the fir.^t grand naval victory of England over France, at Sluys, in 1340. This exploit so raised the ardour of the English parlia- ment, that they were eager for the prosecution of the war, and Edward was soon at the head of 100,000 men, besides 40,000 Flemings. But the latter, who were unaccustomed to warfare, were so dismayed by a vigorous sally while they besieged St. Omer's, that they broke and dispersed, and could not be rallied during the campaign ; and Edward, after besieging Tournay in vain, agreed to an accommodation, by which hosti- lities were to be suspended for nine months. As Ed- ward was greatly impoverished by these two campaigns, without having advanced a step in the conquest of France, he now lowered his demands, so that he was ready to consent to a lasting peace, on being only exo- nerated from doing homage for his Fiench possessions. But Philip not only refused this concession, but de- EDWARD III. 203 inanded of his rival a total renunciation of all claim and title to the crown of France^ — upon which the latter broke off the negotiation. The king of England had hitherto depended chiefly upon his foreign allies, by whom he was impoverished and betrayed ; but an auxiliary now appeared in the person of a heroine, upon whom he could place greater confidence. This was Jane, countess of Montfort, whose husband was languishing in prison through the treachery of the French king, who had passed upon him a sen- tence of dispossession, and then trepanned his person. The countess having received a promise of aid from the king of England, resolved to hold out to the last against the whole power of France, in defence of her husband's territories. She, therefore, flew from town to town, and harangued the inhabitants, holding the infant child of their lord in her arms, by which touching exhibition their sympathy was roused to the highest ; and after this she shut herself up in the port of Hennebon, to wait the arrival of the English succours. The French forces hurried to the town, and endeavoured to take it before the English arrived ; but the countess, who showed the prowess of a warrior, and the skill of a leader, routed them in several sallies, in which she fought at the head of her troops armed like a knight, and mounted on a war-horse. Even the women of the place, inspired by her example, unpaved the streets, and hurled the stones from the ramparts upon the heads of the assailants. The siege, however, was pressed with vigour, and the spirit of the townsmen began to waver ; they even talked of making a separate peace with the enemy, at the expense of their heroic mistress. At this critical moment the countess, who was gazing wist- fully sea-ward, from her castle, in quest of the promised aid from England, beheld a fleet of tall ships in the distance making for Hennebon. ' The English! the English !* she exclaimed in rapture : • I see the aid I have so long expected ! No talk of surrender now !' It was, indeed, the English fleet, commanded by Sir Walter Manny, that had been delayed by contrary ■winds, and which soon entered the harbour amidst the triumph of the town's-people. The lady received her island champions joyfully, and led them to a rich ban- quet; after which Sir Walter, who was the flower of 204 MILITARY HISTORY. English knighthood, looking out of the ball window at the largest machine of the besiegers, invited his com- panions to go out with him, and destroy it. No better after-dinner pastime could have been proposed : the knights buckled on their harness, and sallied stealthily from one of the gates, accompanied by 300 English archers. They assaulted the defenders of the engine, who were levelled by the arrows of the yeomen, or the swords and axes of the knights, almost in an instant : the tents and huts were in a blaze, and the machine wad broken in pieces, after which this small party retired. It was only then that the French army recovered from their stupor, and spurred after the English like mad- men. The brave Sir Walter at this reined up in his re- treat, and exclaiming, ' May I never be embraced by my mistress and dear friend, if I enter castle or fort before I have unhorsed one of these gallopers!' he dashed among the pursuers, accompanied by his knights, and emptied many a saddle of its rider. After this feat of arms, the English returned in good order, and entered the town under cover of a shower of arrows, that soof checked the pursuit; while the countess of Montfort de« scended from the castle, and kissed Sir Walter and his brave companions, as they entered. On the following day the French were glad to raise the siege of Hennebon, amidst the hootings and insults of the townsmen. Although the force under Sir Walter Manny was suf- ficient to raise the siege, it was too small to encounter the enemy in the field ; and Edward, at the earnest solicitations of the countess, embarked at Sandwich, on the 5th of October, 1342, with a large fleet and army. But this third royal expedition came to nothing, like the former, owing to the imprudence of the English king, who divided his small army of 12,000 into three bodies, to undertake the siege of Rennes, Nantz, and Vannes, at the same instant. A three yeai-s' truce was the conse- quence, iu which no advantage was conceded to Eng- land, and the contending parties separated, only to breathe themselves for fresh contests. Edward during the interval strained every nerve for a greater and more decisive invasion than ever, and was so successful in his preparations, that by the 10th of July, 134G, he embarked at St. Helen's with an army of 4,000 men-at-anns, 10,000 archers, and 18,000 foot. He now resolved to conduct EDWARD III. 205 the war at the head of his own subjects, instead of foreign auxiliaries, and to invade Normandy, which was defenceless, instead of landing in Guienne, where the enemy were prepared to receive him. The wisdom of these measures was shown in the sig-nal success that followed. He pressed forward to Rouen, intending' to attack that city ; but on being confronted by Philip, at the head of the whole military array of France, he marched alontj the banks of the Seine, and laid waste the country to the very gates of Paris. He was then sur- rounded by the enemy, while the bridg-es of the river were broken down ; but he crossed the Seine by stratagem, and marched towards Flanders, driving the country militia before him. When Edward reached the Somme,he found the bridges destroyed, while Philip, at the head of 100,000 men, was close upon his rear ; but having discovered a ford, he resolved to cross it, although Godemar du Fay, with a strong army, was drawn up on the opposite bank. Edward ordered his marshals to dash into the water in the name of God and St. George, upon which lords, knights, and men-at-arms, plunged into the river, in spite of the Genoese cross-bowmen in the French ser- vice, who galled them as they advanced. On the other hand, the KnglLsh archers covered the fording of their leaders so successfully with showers of arrows, which they di>char!:-ed among the French men-at-arms, that at length the English gained a footing upon the opposite bank, and put the enemy to flight. Edward then halted at Crecy, where he determined to engage his pursuers, as he could no longer retreat with safety on account of their vast superiority in cavalry. He, therefore, selected his ground with great judgment upon the gentle slope of a hill, with a wood in his rear, and strengthened his flanks with deep entrenchments. This ground, he said, was part of the marriage-portion of his mother, which had descended to him by inheritance, and therefore he was determined to defend it against Philip of Valois. In the mean time the French king, who was disap- pointed of capturing the whole English army, on account of their having forced the passage of the Somme, was only anxious that they should not escape ; he therefore hurried the march of his vast army to the conflict with such pi'ecipitation, that the front, when it should have halted, was driven forward by the rear, and all advanced 235 MILITARY HISTORY, in wild confusion till they carae in front of the English. On the other side, every thing was perfect regularity, the result of forethought, and calm, deliberate valour. The English were drawn up in three lines. The first, consisting of 800 men-at-arms, 4,000 archers, and 600 Welsh foot, was commanded by the Black Prince, now only sixteen years old, assisted by the earls of Warwick and Oxford. The second line, composed of 800 men-at- arms, 4,000 billmen, and 2,400 archers, was led by the earls of Northampton and Arundel ; while the third, ■which was the body of reserve, consisted of 700 men-at- arms, 5,300 billmen, and 6,000 archers, and occupied the top of the hill, commanded by the king in person. As the overwhelming masses of the French advanced, Ed- ward rode along the lines with a cheerful countenance, and addressed his soldiers with such words of encourage- ment, that, instead of being dismayed, they were only eager for the encounter. In the mean time the king of France, assisted by his allies, the kings of Bohemia and Majorca, and the lead- ers of the army, endeavoured to restore something like order among his troops, and drew them up into three lines, the first of which was commanded by the king of Bohemia, the second by the duke d'Alenfon, and the third by himself ; but although each line greatly out- numbered the whole English armj-, the confusion into which they had thrown themselves was an unfortunate presage. The French advanced first to the charge, and the English, who were seated in their ranks, and making a hearty meal according to the order of the king, started up to receive them. Fifteen thousand Genoese cross-bowmen in the pay of France were to have commenced the battle ; but as they were weary with their long march, and the weight of their weapons, they advanced with reluctant steps. They raised a hideoua shout as they came forward, to frighten the English, ■who stood unmoved ; they raised another, and a third, but with no better success — upon which they began in earnest, by a discharge of their square iron bolts. The English archers in return advanced a step, according to their custom, and then let loose their arrows with such rapidity that it seemed as if it snowed, while the Genoese, ■who were pierced through their defensive armour, threw down their cross-bows, and fell back upon the strong EDWARD III. 2C7 boJy of cavalry that had been drawn up to support them. The king of France was enraged at the coward- ice of these auxiliaries, and exclaimed, ' Kill me the scoundrels, for they stop up our road without any reason !' upon which the French men-at-arms begran to clear the front of the battle by a furious massacre of the runaways. The English bowmen still pressed onward, and shot no strongly among the splendid cavalry of France, that knights and squires were overthrown, while the wounded horses plunged among the confused throng of the Genoese; and then the light foot-soldiers of Wales and Cornwall, armed with long knives, crept among the enemy's ranks, and stabbed the dismounted chevaliers. The front line was thus involved in confusion, and reel- ing under the successful charges of the prince of Wales, when its gallant leader, the king of Bohemia, made a desperate effort to retrieve his portion of the battle. Being blind, he requested his attendants to lead him into the thickest of the fight, that he might strike at least one good blow ; upon which his knights interlaced bis horse's reins with their own, and charged with him abreast upon the English ranks, where they all fell in the same order. The second line of the French army under Alenfon now advanced, broke through the array of archers, and commenced an overwhelming hand to hand conflict with the English men-at-arms, upon which the earls of Northampton and Arundel advanced with their second line, to sustain the prince of Wales. The king of France would now have advanced with his third line, by which the scale might still have been turned against England ; but a formidable hedge of archers lay before him, which he was unable to pass. As it was, however, ihe prince of Wales was on the eve of being overpowered, and the earl of Warwick sent a knight, at full gallop, to the king for a reinforcement. Edward, at this moment, was standing upon a mill, on the hill-top, surveying the whole battle ; and he calmly asked, ' Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot support himself?' ' Nothing of the sort,' replied the messenger, ' but he is in so hot an engage- ment, that he has great need of your help.' ' Tell him,* cried the heroic monarch, ' to expect no aid from me. Let the boy win his spurs ; for I am determined, that, if it please God, all the glory and honour of this day shall 208 MILITARY HISTORY. be given to him, and to those into whose care I have intrusted him.' No military exhortation could have been better timed, or more effective ; it was more than reinforcements to the prince, and his companions ; and the first and second lines of the French were attacked with such renewed vigour, that in a short time they were broken and put to flight. The reserve, commanded by Philip in person, now advanced ; but it was over the wrecks of two terrible defeats, and against an army high in hope, and flushed with victory. This last part of the battle was soon over : Philip himself, after fighting gallantly, was unhorsed and wounded, while his forces were so completely broken and scattered, that when he fled from the field only sixty men accompanied his flight. — Such was the battle of Crecy, gained by the English, on the 26th of August (1346), over a well-ap- pointed army eight times their number, and in which the French lost the king of Bohemia, eleven princes, eighty bannerets, 1,200 knights, 1,500 gentlemen, 4,000 men-at-arms, and 30,030 common soldiers. As soon as the battle was ended, Edward caught the prince of Wales in his arms, and exclaimed with paternal ex- tacy — * Sweet son, you have this day shown yourself worthy of your spurs, aud the crown for which you have so nobly fought: God grant you good perseverance!' The prince, as modest and gentle as he was brave, knelt down with a blushing countenance, and begged his father's blessing. 134G- — After this victory, Edward continued to prose- cute the war with success, and the whole province of Guienne fell into his hands. But while he was successful abroad, a dangerous storm menaced him at home ; for the Scots, encouraged by his absence, as well as instigated by France, resolved to invade England. The youthful Divid, son of Robert Bruce, accordingly mustered a brave but tumultuary army of 50,000, and entered Eng- land from the western frontier, inflicting fearful havoc upon the country as far as the gates of Durham. The Piercies and other great northern barons mustered their numerous followers to oppose him ; 10,000 soldiers, which were about to be transported to France, were de- tained and incorporated with the national force ; and thus, instead of wailing the coming of the king of Scotland, they were able to go in quest of him. David's EDWARD III. 203 heroic father would have retired on sach an occasion, or have shunned, at least, a pitched battle; but the yoang kinc, who was personally brave, lacked the hisrher qualities of his parent. On the 17th of October, the Scots, who were encamped on a wretched piece of ground intersected by enclosures, at Bear-park, near Durham, were almost taken by surprise from the sudden appearance of the English, and 10,000 archers advanced to commence the battle. Sir John de Graeme foresaw the deadly shower that was about to fall, and entreated of David the command of only 100 horse, with which he engaged to ride down, and disperse the archers ; but he entreated in vain. With his own small retinue of horsemen, however, this good knight attempted the manoeuvre ; but he was beaten oiF. The English archers now commenced with discharges of arrows, that flew like sleet in a tempest, while their men-at-arms and billmen rushed to close encounter. The Scots, who were cooped up within their enclosures, were struck down like deer without being able to make resistance ; their right wing was charged, and routed by the English cavalry, and the centre, which David commanded, was at once attacked in front and flank. The young king resisted desperately to the last, although wounded in several places, and was taken prisoner by one Copland, a knight of Northumberland. As soon a3 the royal banner fell, the steward of Scotland, and the earl of March, rallied the remains of the army, and retreated from the field in good order. — Such was the battle of Nevill's Cross, in which 15,000 of the Scots fell, while their king and chief nobility were made prison- ers. It was thought that Scotland was now prostrated beyond recovery, but the national spirit was as unbroken as ever; and the Scots having raised the Steward to the regency, exhibited every where an undaunted front against their powerful enemy. 1347. — In the mean time Edward was following up the victory of Crecy by the siege of Calais, the capture of which was necessary, as it was the gate of France by which the kingdom would be laid open to his future inva- sions. Rut it was so strong, and so bravely defended, that he had no hope of taking it by force, and he turned the siege into a blockade, resolving to reduce the town by famine. The townsfolks upon this dismissed all their 210 MILITARY HISTORY. unserviceable inhabitants, to the number of 1,700 aged persons, women, and children, who were not only allowed to pass freely through the English lines, but were furnished by their generous enemies with a dinner, and two-pence a-piece, to carry them on their journey. The king of France made desperate efforts to relieve Calais, and advanced against the English with 150,000 men ; but he found the town so closely invested that he could throw in no succour, while the besiegers were so strongly entrenched that he dared not attack their lines. After remaining, therefore, in the neigh- bourhood for a few days, and challenging his antagonist with idle bravadoes, Philip withdrew his army without striking a blow. The citizens were now reduced to de- spair. They had resisted in spite of famine, until they had eaten not only all their horses, but even their dogs, and the vermin of their cellars ; but when they saw that relief was hopeless, they called a parley, on the day after the retreat of the French army. Edward, at first, would consent to no terms, and required an uncon- ditional surrender, but this the spirited citizens refused; he then moderated his demands so far as to consent to spare the inhabitants, on condition that six of their num- ber should be delivered to him bareheaded, with ropes about their necks, for execution. In this ungenerous fashion he determined to take revenge upon the citizens for the hatred they had long borne against the English, and their obstinate resistance during the siege, which had now lasted nearly a year. The governor, John de Vienne, caused the bell to be rung for the town's- people to assemble ; and, weeping bitterly, he laid be- fore them these hard conditions. Scarcely, however, had he ended, when six of the chief citizens started up, and announced themselves as the cheerful victims for the deliverance of the rest. They bared their heads, and put ropes upon their necks, in which condition they were delivered to Sir Walter Manny, who led them towards Edward's tent. The whole English army was in a tumult of wonderment at such heroism, and ran from all quarters to gaze upon the captives, as they passed ; and the barons, the knights, and squires, who stood near Edward, could not refrain from tears. As for the king, he only eyed his prisoners grimly, and ordered their instant execution. The English nobles EDWARD III. 211 murmured, and the brave Sir Walter Manny entreated his sovereign to bethink himself of the disgrace that would stain him for such a cruel deed ; but he pleaded in vain. A more powerful intercessor was fortunately at hand, in the person of queen Philippa, already in the family way, who, after the victory of Nevil's Cross, had arrived at Calais, bring-ing powerful reinforcements to her husband. She fell on her knees before him, and exclaimed with tears — ' Ah, gentle sir, since I have crossed the sea with great danger to visit you, I have never asked you one favour : but now, I humbly crave a boon for the sake of the Son of the Blessed Mary, and for your own love to me. Be merciful to these six men.' Edward was unable to refuse such a pleader, in such circumstances, and he gruffly answered — ' Dame, I wish you had been any where else than here. But you have so entreated, that I can refuse you nothing. Take them, and do with them what you please.' The gentle- hearted queen conducted the six citizens to her apart- ment, clothed them, and regaled them with a plentiful dinner, after which she gave them six nobles each, and caused them to be escorted to a place of safety. Edward, on tlie surrender of Calais, turned out all the inhabit- ants, and repeopled the town with English ; he also entrusted the government of it to Sir Americ of Pavia, a brave knight, who had won his confidence, after which he embarked for England, where he landed on the 12th of October, 134r. Edward being bent upon the full conquest of France, assembled his parliament to obtain the necessary sup- plies ; but as his victones had been very expensive to England, the commons showed such reluctance, that, after long demurring, they consented to a grant of only three-fifteenths, to be levied in three years, for the prosecution of the war. But at this period he had almost lost the fruits of his last campaign, through the treachery of Sir Americ, the governor of Calais. The French having tampered with this soldier of for- tune, obtained of him a promise to deliver the town into their hands for 20,000 crowns : but Edward, who fortunately discovered the plot, resolved to turn the treachery of the French upon themselves. He ordered Sir Americ to go on with the bargain, as if nothing had happened ; and this the unscrupulous Italian did 212 MILITARY HISTORY. accordingly. The French, under Sir Geoffry de Chamay, were privately admitted into the castle ; but here, to their astonishment, they found Sir Walter Manny, and a strong body of English soldiers drawn up to receive them. 'J'his force, which was sent from England for the puipose, had been privately admitted into the fortress a few hours before the French, and with it came also Edward himself, who fought as an unknown knight, under the banner of Sir Walter. The French, although taken by surprise, made a brave resistance, but were soon overpowered ; after which the English mounted their horses, and spurred on by the road to Boulogne, where the main body of the French army was waiting, until their companions should secure their entrance into Calais. In the desperate melie that ensued, Ed- ■ward, who was incognito, singled out and encountered Eustace de Ribeaumont, one of the bravest knights of France, and both these redoubted champions fought so long and so fiercely, that, says Froissart, ' it was a pleasure to see them.' Twice was Edward struck down upon his knees, but at length the stout Sir Eustace was compelled to yield. After the battle, a kingly banquet was set out, at which victors and vanquished sat down together ; and here the French champion discovered, with military satisfaction, tViat he had yielded to no meaner person than the conqueror of Crecy. The king took from his own head a rich chaplet, and placed it on that of Sir Eustace, bidding him show it to ladies and damsels, and tell them how it was won. He also set him at liberty without ransom, and declared that he had never, in all his battles, encountered so brave an antagonist.* After this event, the war in France languished for six years, and in 1353, Edward's views had become so moderate, that he was willing to resign his title to that kingdom for the unconditional sovereignty of Guienne and Aquitaine, and the town and marshes of Calais. But John, who had now succeeded Philip, would not tolerate such a dangerous neighbour, and refused the terms ; upon which an army was sent from England, under the command of the Black Prince, whose splendid career will be fully detailed in the following Chapter. * In memory of this circumstance, thi' ficscendants of Sir Ribeau- mont ever after bore tlirte ihaplets garnished witli pearls, for their escutcheon. EDWARD III. 213 While Edward was thus occupied in his continental wars, the Scots never ceased to strug-g-le for the recovery of their lost territories, in which they were occasionally assisted by France ; and they were so successful, that Berwick, the last of the English conquests, fell into their hands on the 23rd of November, 1355. This so kindled the indig-nation of Edward, that he resolved to make a final effort to subjugate Scotland : for this purpose he purchased the sovereignty of that kingdom from Edward Baliol, who was now a childless, doting- old man ; and he obtained from parliament a grant of fifty shilling's on every exported sack of wool for six years. Being: thus furnished with money and title deeds, he entered Scot- laud at the head of a large army, to take possession; but the Scots on this occasion followed the prudent advice of their heroic Bruce, and laid waste the country as he advanced. The English found no enemy in their way but famine, which wasted their ranks, however, as eftec- tually as the sword ; and having retaken Berwick, they burnt the towns of Haddington and Edinburgh, and fired every church and building in their march, so that this period (February, 135G) was long after remembered in Scotland under the name of the ' burnt Candlemas.' Hunger at last obliged the English to retreat, and then came the moment of retaliation. The Scottish parties, that had hung like dark clouds upon the front, flank, and rear of the invaders, now showed themselves on every quarter, and so effectually harassed their retreat, that the English army was greatly thinned and ex- hausted before it had crossed the border. Such was the result of Edward's fifth expedition into Scotland, in which he reaped neither fame nor advantage, except the capture of Berwick, and in which, on one occasion, he very narrow escaped being made prisoner by earl Douglas. 214 MILITARY HISTORY. EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. As the wars of the middle ages cannot be well under- stood without a reference to the usages of chivalry, we shall pause for a moment, to give a few brief notices of this important military institution. Such a subject also forms the best introduction to the history of the Black Prince, during whose period chivalry had reached its perfection in England, and whose actions constituted the fair ideal of knightly bravery and nobleness. As the prime qualities of a true knight consisted in succouring the weak, and serving the gentler sex, such an institution could only have originated among the northern tribes, by whom women were regarded with a deference almost amounting to religious worship. With them, ' none but the brave deserved the fair,' so that the young warrior was deemed unworthy of a mate until he had proved his deserts by some gallant deed ; and thus love and heroism were associated so closely in his mind, as to be almost synonymous terms. We have seen, in the life of Hereward le Wake, that the institution of chivalry existed among the Anglo-Saxons ; but it was not in so perfect a form among them as among the Nor- mans, who introduced new military principles and modes of warfare into England. The chivalrous code was sub- sequently raised and amplified by the crusades, by the deeds of Lion-hearted Richard, by the wars of the bai'ons against John and Henry ill., and the contests between Scotland and England, until it reached its greatest per- fection under Edward III., the founder of the order of the Garter, who recognised in knighthood not only a • cheap defence of nations,' but the most available wea- pon to accomplish his plans of foreign conquest and ag- grandizement. The knight was obliged to undergo a careful course of education before he was thought worthy of that envied title ; and therefore the sons of noble families were generally placed in the household of some eminent chief, that they might be trained under his inspection. The youth thus domesticated, first olficiated as a page, during which period he was taught to ride the great horse, to wear armour, and handle weapons; to run, to wrestle, EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. 215 and wield or throw heavy weights ; to carve at the table, to dance gracefully, to hunt, and hawk, and play upon some musical instrument ; to cultivate the virtues of obedience, modesty, and gentleness, and to be punc- tual in all the observances of religion. The house of some approved noble was thus frequently a coUeyre of chivalry, the pages of which consisted of members of the noblest families of the country. When this state of pro- bation ended, the page became a squire. He was now a man, and could follow his master to the field, to carry his shield, or hold his banner, and mingle in the aifray ; and as his next step was to become a knight, it behoved him in these services to exert to the uttermost his cou- rage, address, and moral qualities. When this long course of education ended, and the aspirant was deemed worthy of knighthood, all the grandeur of chivalry and all the solemnities of religion were united, to give im- pressiveness to the ceremony. Before the appointed pe- riod, the young squire spent the day in fasting, and the night in prayer ; he bathed, confessed his sins, received the eucharist, and wore white robes, as the emblem of that knightly purity which he was thenceforth to culti- vate. When all these preliminaries were finished, the baronial chapel was arranged for the solemn ceremony, and the young candidate approached his god-father, from whose hands he was to receive the honour, and who ad- ministered to him the oaths of knighthood. These were, to defend the clergy, and the church ; to honour and protect the ladies ; to succour the widow, the orphan, and the oppressed ; to be courteous, gentle, kind, chaste, and sober ; and in all dangers and difiiculties to be im- pervious to mortal fear. When the oath was sworn, the knights and ladies who stood by buckled on his spurs, be- ginning with the left foot ; then the several pieces of his armour, and finally his sword ; after which, as he still knelt, his sponsor, by whom he was to be knighted, gave him three gentle strokes with the flat of his sword upon the shoulder, or three light slaps with his open palm on the cheek, exclaiming, ' In the name of God, St. Michael, and St. George, I dub thee a knight: be brave, hardy, and loyal.' The war-horse of the new-made che- valier was then brought, upon which he vaulted, all armed as he was, without touching the stirrup ; and as he galloped to and fro before the spectators, he bran- 216 MILITARY FlISTORY. dished his sword or Lis lance, to show his strength and dexterity. The day was closed, in England at least, by a huge banquet, which was thrown open to all comers, when the large oaken table that stretched through tlie "whole length of the hall groaned beneath masses of beef and pork, that were hewu in pieces by the dag-gers of the feasters; while ale, and wine, and merry minstrelsy, did honour to the young knight, and heightened the fes- tivity. The physical part of a chivalrous education was of the utmost importance in an age when mere strength and cou- rage were the highest essentials of warfare, and when both the offensive and defensive weapons of a knight were of the most ponderous description. To fight for a long summer day, and beneath a burning sun, while en- cased in a heavy covering of steel ; or to wield with effect the huge two-handed sword, or the ponderous mace that sometimes weighed twenty-four pounds, required nerve and muscle of no ordinary description. The page and the squire were therefore subjected to those laborious processes by which alone the necessary dexterity and strength could be acquii-ed. They learned adroitness in the tilt by practising daily at the quintain, where they ca- reered with the point of their lances at some mark which it was difficult to hit ; and they acquired proficiency in dealing good blows by assailing the stump of a tree, or hacking at a wooden figure that repi-esented a blasphem- ing Saracen. But above all, the tournament was the grand school in which a chivalrous education was finished, because there the tyro found all the splendid pageantry, as well as the downright blows and wounds, of a real battle. These tournaments were gorgeous ex- hibitions, that displayed all the wealth, the taste, and the grandeur of a kingdom, while the best lances of Eu- rope thronged from every country to take a share in the competition. Thus the knight, when not engaged in war, kept his armour from rusting by frequent practice in the joust and tourney, and his limbs in full exercise by the active field sports of hawking and hunting. As to the moral part of a chivalrous education, it was truly beautiful — at least in theory. But, unfortunately, it seems to have been too refined for the practice of the middle ages, and therefore the general character of the knights fell far beneath their elevated standard. On EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. 217 this account, their oaths of honestly redressing griev- ances, and defending the weak, of being chaste and courteous to females, and loyal to their feudal superior, were often contrasted by their robberies on the high- way, their oppression and violation of helpless women, and their transference of allegiance as often as whim, or profit, or pique, suggested. Gentleness and courtesy in- deed they generally practised ; but this was only towards bold and high-born knights like themselves, whom they preferred to take alive in the field of battle, and spare, for the sake of a rich ransom ; but as for the common herd, whom they called the ' rascal multitude,' they cut them down in siege or battle without the slightest com- punction. Many indeed were undoubtedly elevated and refined by their chivalrous education beyond what they would have been under any other system ; but at the same time we must always learn to distinguish between the obligations of the knightly oath, and the manner in which they were actually fulfilled. The noblest picture of a knight of this, or any other age, perhaps, was Ed- ward the Black Prince, unless we associate with him the last and brightest of French chivalry, the gallant Bayard, the knight ' without stain,' as well as • without fear.' Edward, called the Black Prince, on account of the colour of his armour,* was born at Woodstock, on the 15th of June, 1330, while his father Edward III. was still a minor, and under the control of the worthless Mortimer. As we have seen, the young prince, when only sixteen years old, was at the battle of Crecy, which his valour mainly contributed to win ; he also accompa- nied his father to Calais, when that town was about to be betrayed into the hands of the French. His next as- say in arms was in a sea-fight with a Spanish fleet off Rye, in Sussex, in which he accompanied his royal fa- ther, being now in his twentieth year, and, by their joint exertions, the English seas were soon cleared of these troublesome invaders. It was in 1355, when the truce between England and France had expired, that the military qualities of the Black Prince were exhibited in a separate command. » It has been sometimes thought also that the nara^ wa« derived from the circumstaiic>- of the French calling him Le Noir, on account of the gloom which bis deeds threw over their country. L 218 MILITARY HISTORY. He was sent to invade France, with a considerable body of troops, which sailed from Plymouth on the 10th of September ; and being joined on his arrival at Bour- deaux by reinforcements that swelled his army to 60,000 men, he swept through Languedoc without opposition, being unable to bring the French to an engagement. After a six weeks' flying campaign, he returned to Guienne, to winter quarters, laden with booty and pri- soners. In the following summer be again took the field ; but this time it was with an army of not more than 12,000 men, of whom only 4000 men were English. At the head of this small force, he penetrated into the heart of France, intending to unite his forces with those of his brother John of Gaunt, who was employed in Nor- mandy upon a similar expedition ; but the French had broken down all the bridges upon the Loire, while John the king of France was advancing against him with a numerous army. The prince therefore resolved to fall back upon his father's continental dominions ; but hav- ing incautiously wasted several days in besieging the castle of Remorentin, the French had time to advance, so that the English were overtaken in the neighbour- hood of Poictiers. A battle was now inevitable, wliile the disparity of numbers was truly dismaying. Opposed to the small army of England were 3000 knights, and 60,000 soldiers, mostly cavalry, commanded by the king of France, and the chief princes of his dominions. Tbe momentous battle of Poictiers was fought on the 19th of September, 1356. The French upon this occasion not only outnumbered the English, as greatly as they had done at Crecy, but they advanced in fresh condi- tion, and were better marshalled than upon the former occasion. The prince of Wales selected his position with great judgment, upon a small plain surrounded by vine- yards and enclosures, so that the French could only attack him in front, and by a narrow lane that would admit only four horsemen abreast. Behind the hedges of this lane, he planted strong- bodies of archers, to gall the enemy as they advanced. He also placed over-night an ambush of 300 men-at-arms, and as many archers, to fall upon the French flank during the engagement. The battle commenced by king John ordering a strong detachment to march through the lane, and close with the English ; but no sooner had this force entered EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. 219 than the archers, who were protected by the hedges, took deliberate aim, and showered their anows with such effect among the French cavalry, that their horses plunged and fell back upon their own army, spreading confusion wherever they came. At this critical moment, also, the English ambush started from their conceal- ment, and attacked in flank the battalion of the duke of Normandy with such violence, that they chased it from the field ; upon which the duke of Orleans, with his divi- sion, imagining that all was lost, betook himself also to flight. The prince of Wales, who now saw that the op- portunity was his own, marched forward to attack the king's division, already dispirited by the flight of their companions ; and a more furious encounter now took place than that which had raged at Crecy. But nothing could resist the terrible charge of the English men-at- arms, headed by their prince, and backed by the archers, who emptied their quivers with such rapidity, that the French fell in multitudes wherever they advanced. John fought on this day with a valour that deserved a better fate. His lanks were gradually broken and scat- tered, but he continued to defend himself gallantly with his battle-axe, while his faithful attendants were falling around him. He only surrendered, when farther resist- ance was useless, to a French knight in the service of England. As for his splendid army, it was now a con- fused crowd scattered far and wide over the country, and so panic-struck, that five or six French warriors of- ten surrendered to a single English archer. The Black Prince, who during the whole fight had shown the ut- most personal valour, and been present in every danger, at last planted his banner on the top of a bush, to rally his soldiers from the pursuit. In this battle the flower of the French chivalry had fallen, including in all about 6000 men, while the prisoners doubled the number of the whole English army. As it was thought dangerous to retain them, they were ransomed on the spot, and thus the English were suddenly enriched by the battle of Poictiers. Even the spoils of the field were immense, as the French had put on their richest armour and orna- ments, in the confidence of being victorious. It was not however by his conduct and bravery in the battle that the prince of Wales earned his noblest dis- tinction. A scene followed unprecedented in the conduct 220 MILITARY HISTORY, of youthful conquerors, and upon which historians have delighted to expatiate. No sooner was the royal captive John presented, than the prince endeavoured to soothe his feelings of defeat by a modest, humble demeanour ; and in the evening he made a rich banquet, at which he treated the king" more as a feudal superior and guest, than a captive, by serving him at table with his own hands, and refusing to be seated, notwithstanding every entreaty to the contrary. When he saw also that John was sore at heart in consequence of his loss, he added, with a noble air — ' Dear Sir, do not make a poor meal, because the Almighty God has not fulfilled your wishes in the events of this day ; for be assured, that my lord and father will show you every honour and friendship in his power, and arrange your ransom so reasonably, that you will henceforsvard always remain friends. In my opinion, you have cause to be glad that the success of this battle did not turn out as you desired ; for you have this day acquired such high renown for prowess, that you have surpassed all the best knights on your side. I do not, dear sir, say this to Hatter you ; for all those of our side who have seen and observed the actions of each party, have allowed this to be your due, and decreed you the prize and garland.' This was unwonted language in a victor, and the Fi-ench who were at table burst forth into expressions of applause. The noble ex- ample of the prince was immediately followed by his English and Gascon knights, who treated their prisoners with the utmost kindness and hospitality, and dismissed them at a moderate ransom. After this victory, Edward marched leisurely to Bour- deaux, where he spent the winter ; and in the ensuing summer he set sail for England, and landed at Sand- wich on the 5th of May, after which he proceeded to London. The citizens received the conqueror in triumph ; but while the king of France, clothed in royal robes, and mounted on a large white steed, seemed the master of the procession, the prince rode by his side upon a little black palfrey, and in this state they reached Westminster Hall, where Edward III. was waiting to receive them. John was courteously received by his rival, while the prince was affectionately thanked for the services he had done the kingdom. There were Jiow two royal captives in England ; but David of Scotland obtained his liberty EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. 221 on the 3rd of October, 1357, on condition of paying' a ran- som of one hundred thousand marks. John was not so fortunate, and died many years after, a prisoner in the Savoy in London. The pope now interfered as the common father of Chris- tendom, to establish a peace between France and Eng- land, and for this purpose a truce was first appointed, to last for two years. But the terms of peace which Ed- ward III. proposed were so exorbitant, and if granted would have so completely dismembered France, that the Dauphin, who was now regent of the kingdom, very pro- perly refused his concurrence, upon which the king of England made preparations for a fresh invasion. He landed at Calais with an army of 100,000 men, on the 27th of October 1359, attended by the Black Prince, and his three other sons ; and after sweeping through the provinces of Artois and Picardy, he invested Rheims, for the purpose of being crowned king of France in that ancient city. But the townsfolk stood so bravely upon their defence, that Edward, after having spent three months before the place, was oldiged to raise the siege. He then pressed forwards for Paris, before which he ar- rived on the 31st of March ; but he found it so strongly defended that, after vainly challenging the Dauphin to come out of the city and join battle upon the plain, he was obliged to draw off his army to Bretagne, to refresh it after a winter campaign. The French plan of defence on this occasion had been as judicious, as it was success- ful. Instead of endeavouring to encounter the English in the field, the Dauphin ganisoned the towns, and al- lowed Edward to spend his fury on the open country. The king of England after this designed to lay siege to Chartres, notwithstanding earnest entreaties for peace both from the pope and the duke of Lancaster ; but just as he was about to resume hostilities, there com- menced a terrible storm of thunder and lightning, ac- companied with such a fall of large hail-stones, that many of his tents were overthrown or shattered, and several men and horses killed. Edward believed that he saw in this the anger of heaven, and made a so- lemn vow that he would immediately end the contest. A peace soon followed, in which the French agreed to give up certain districts to the king of England in full sovereignty, and pay three millions of crowns for the 222 MILITARY HISTORY, ransom of their monarch ; while Edward renounced all title to the crown and kingdom of France, as well as to Normandy, Touraine, Anjou, Maine, Bretagne, and Flan- ders. Edward returned to England on the 31st of Octo- ber, 1360, where he was received by his people not with the less joy that a war was ended, the expenses of which they had found too burdensome. To reconcile the inha- bitants of the ceded French territories to the sway of England, Edward resolved to confer the sovereignty of them upon the prince of Wales, who had lately married his cousin, commonly called the Fair Maid of Kent. The Black Prince (who was now created Prince of Aquitaine) repaired to his new dominions with his beautiful partner, and fixed his residence at Bourdeaux, where he esta- blished a splendid court ; and his justice, humanity, and engaging manners, soon reconciled his subjects to the degradation of a foi'eign dominion. Such was the renown which the Black Prince had now acquii-ed, that he was reckoned by all men the bravest warrior and best leader of the age ; and this high reputation naturally attracted Don Pedro, the de- posed king of Castile, who had been compelled by a rebellion to fly from his kingdom. This sovereign, whose deeds- procured for him the unenviable title of the Cruel, had made himself so intolerable to his nobles, and subjects in general, that Henry, count of Transta- mare, his bastard brother, fled into France, to solicit aid to dethrone the tyrant. This was a welcome request to the Dauphin, as the French territories were now over- run by those mercenary soldiers called Free Companions, whom the late peace had thrown out of occupation. These desperadoes, whose only trade was war and plunder, had seized several towns and castles of France, and commenced war upon their own account, in which they made the throne tremble, as their forces amounted to 50,000 skilful and well-trained veterans. Endeavours were made to dislodge them, by finding occupation for them elsewhere; and the pope would have tempted them to a crusade for the recovery of the Holy Land, with pro- mises of absolution for all their sins, and homes in para- dise hereafter— but these ferocious worthies cared as little for paradise as they did for the Holy Sepulchre. The golden promises of Henry of Transtamare were of a more persuasive character, and as Du Guesclin, the EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. 223 best leader of France, engaged to head the expedition, the Free Companions gladly followed bim to Spain, where they soon drove Pedro from the throne, and seated Henry in his room. Pedro the Cruel, abandoned by all his subjects, fled with his family and treasures to liourdeaux, to the court of tlie Black. Prince, to whom he unfolded his melancholy history. His atrocities while king of Castile seem to have been unknown in France and in England ; and as Pedro possessed some plausible qualities, the priuce resolved to aid him, as a sovereign who had been unjustly dispossessed by traitors and a usurper. No sooner was this purpose known, than the military men of every country flocked to his standard, and even the Free Companions in Spain deserted Henry by thousands, and repaired to Bourdeaux, to put them- selves under the command of the Black. Prince. He was joined also by his brother, John of Gaunt, duke of Lan- caster, with a powerful body of English, by which his army amounted to 30,000 good soldiers ; and, attended by the kings of Castile and Major a, and a train of English and Gascon noblemen, he set out on his expedition at Christmas (I3U6), and by easy journeys entered Castile, in March, the following year. 13G7.— Henry of Transtamare, a prince worthy of the crown to which the Castiliaus had called him, made every preparation against his redoubted antagonist. His forces consisted of 80,000 men, of whom 3,000 were armed cap-a-pie, and moiiiited upon barbed horses (that is, horses almost completely covered with armour), and 4,000 were men-at-arms, under the brave and skilful Du Guesclin. The rest consisted of light infantry and foot, chiefly armed with lances, darts, and swords. The two armies met on the 3d of April, between the towns of Najara and Navarete, and encountered with such fury, that spears an i shields were locked together, so that it was long before an opening could be made on either side ; and at last they clutched together in closer combat, with short swords and daggers. In this battle the archery of England were almost matched by the Spanish slingers, who hurled stones with such force, that they shattered helmets and shields, and un- horsed many of their opponents, while the shouts of ' Castile for king- Henry!' were answered by the war- cry of • St. George for Guieuue !' At length, the skilful 224 MILITARY HISTORY. arrangements of the Black Prince, the valour of the English, and the veteran experience of the Free Com- panions, made the Spaniards finally give way, after they had been thrice rallied and led back to the charge, by the heroic Don Henry. The Castilians fled to Najara, and were pursued with such fury by the English and Gascon cavaliers, that multitudes of the runaways threw themselves into the river, and were drowned. The pursuers entered the town pell-mell with the fugi- tives, and pillaged it ; they also captured the rich plate and jewels which Don Henry had deposited there before the engagement. In this battle the Spaniards lost about 8,000 men, besides those who were drowned in the river ; and among the prisoners, who were numerous, was the brave Du Guesclin. The conduct of Don Pedro, after this victory, displayed the abjectness and cruelty that characterize a tyrant. He would have thrown himself at the feet of the Black Prince, who blushed at his meanness, and hastened to prevent him. ' Give your thanks to God,' said the modest hero, ' for to him alone belongs the praise ; the victory comes from him, and not from me.' Pedro then proposed that the prisoners should be instantly put to death, but the prince, abhorring such cruelty, refused his consent. He advised, on the con- trary, that a free pardon should be issued immediately to all his rebellious subjects, as the best means of re- calling them to their allegiance ; and Pedro, although with a bad grace, assented to such a piece of clemency. After this proclamation of amnesty, the tyrant was re- stored to his throne without farther opposition ; but the refusal he had so lately sustained from the prince rankled in his malignant heart, and his recovered crown seemed no longer of any value in his estimation, because it had been purchased by such an act of for- bearance. The Black Prince now learned, when too late, the character of the man he had replaced upon the throne of Castile. As the expedition had drained him of all his resources, he applied to Don Pedro for the arrears of his soldiers, according to agreement ; but the tyrant, who had no intention of repayment, put him off with delays and frivolous excuses. The summer was thus wasted in Spain, and, through despondency and the beat of the climate, the Prince fell into that lingering EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE. 225 consumption which afterwards proved fatal. Finding-, at length, that there was no hope from the Spanish king-, while his soldiers were perishing from disease, he foisook. Castile, and led his wasted army back to Bour- deaux. The misfortunes of this unblest expedition still continued to follow him after his return. Six thousand of his army were Free Companions, who, in the absence of pay, began to plunder the people of Aquitaine, until the prince besought them to spare his subjects, and evacuate his territories. Such was their veneration for their leader, that they complied, and passed over into the French territories. But still his debts were heavy, and his creditors clamorous, and in an evil hour he was persuaded to raise funds by increasing the taxes of his French subjects, a remedy which only produced remon- strances, and finally rebellion. In the mean time, the strictest poetical justice visited the infamous Don Pedro. Henry of Transtamare, who, after the battle of Najara, fled to France, bad leisure, during the detention of the Black Prince in Spain, to gather friends, and mature his plans for afresh attempt upon the Castilian throne. The able Du Guesclin, whom the prince's necessities had compelled him to ransom, became once more the life and soul of the confederacy ; and even the Free Companions, who had been dismissed by the prince for want of pay, gladly changed sides once more, and thronged to Henry and Du Guesclin, for a fresh inroad into Spain. Here was a rare combination of circumstances, by which the traitor was to be en- meshed, and strangled in his own web. Henry entered Castile at the head of a small army of 9,000 men, and such was the odium in which the tyrant was held, fhat he was daily and hourly deserted by his adherents, who fled to the camp of his brother. Pedro still contrived to muster an army of 40,000 Moors, Jews, and Spaniards ; but Henry and Du Guesclin, at the head of only 6,000 men, attacked, broke, and dispersed this large but ill- assorted army with great slaughter, near Montiel, on the 13th of August (1368). After the battle, Pedro him- self fell into the hands of his rival, and in a furious struggle which took place between them in the tent, Henry despatched his tyrant brother with a stroke of his dagger. In the mean time France, which had rapidly reco- L 2 226 MILITARY HISTORY. vered from its late disasters, began to assume a threat- ening attitude, and the Gascon nobles, discontented with the mild rule of the Black Prince, imbittered this hosti- lity by repairing to the capital, and laying their imagi- nary grievances before the French king ; upon which Charles suraraoned the prince to appear on the 1st of May (I3C9), before the Court of Peers at Paris, The Black Prince was astounded at this assumption of Charles, which was founded upon his feudal superiority as lord of Guienne, althotigh that territory and its sove- reignty had been ceded to the English by the late treaty; and he sent answer that he would indeed appear at Pa- ris, but with his helmet on his head, and 60,000 soldiers at his back. But the cruel malady under which he lan- guished retarded his operations ; his continental subjects broke out into open revolt, and the king of France took the field, at the head of a lai'ge army. The prince en- deavoured to oppose him, but he was now so enfeebled that he could not mount his war-horse. In consequence of this, the French prevailed, and took several strong places, among which was the city of Limoges, that was deli- vered up to them by the treachery of the townsmen. The prince, enraged at the conduct of the Limogeans, who added defiance and insult to their abandonment of allegiance, swore by the soul of his father that he would retake the town, and make the inhabitants pay dearly for their treachery. Although he was now so much ex- hausted that he had to be carried in a litter, he took the field, and commenced the siege of Limoges, the strong walls of which he penetrated by countermining. The English force rushed into the town through the large breach that was made by the fallen ramparts, and a fearful massacre of the inhabitants commenced, 3000 of whom, consisting of men, women, and children, were butchered without remorse, even while they were throw- ing themselves on their knees before the prince, and imploring him to spare their lives. ' God have mercy on their souls !' exclaims Froissart, pathetically, ' for they were veritable martyrs.' This deed, so unlike the wonted clemency of the prince, has left an indelible blot upon his name; and although the provocation be had received from the people, combined with the irritation of disease, might palliate, yet it cannot excuse, an act of such atrocity. A brave baud of French knight^, who EDWAPvD THE BLACK PRINCE. ^7 were in the town, resolved to sell their lives as dearly as possible, for which purpose they drew up to the num- ber of eiirhty, before an old wall, and displayed their banners. In this place they gallantly resisted the whole En'atle-field tban the light-heeled warfare of mountuiiis aiiil morasses, only encumbered tbeir movements, and exposed them to loss and derision. Coming also from a land of licentious gallantry, they could not exist with- out occasional love intrigues ; but in this case they were re pelled by the austerity of the northern dames, and the drawn daggers of their kinsmen. Thus, after they had expended their money, lost their horses, and quarrelled v%ith their employers, whom they were unable to benefit, and by whom they were mulcted to the last crown for the expenses of their son"y entertainment, they re- turned to France without fame, heartily cursing the day and the hour that had trepanned them into a Scottish campaign. The wars between England and Scotland still con- tinned, and at last the Scots determined to retort the invasion of Richard, by an inroad into England. In the year 13S8, they accordingly crossed the border with a great army ; after which James, earl of Douglas, one of the bravest who ever wore that formidable title, was detached with about 3,000 men, to ravage the county of Northumberland. This he accomplished by a skilful and rapid march, wasting and plundering the country as far as the city of York, after which, on his return, he halted before the gates of Newcastle in military triumph. The town was garrisoned by the brave Sir Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur, and his brother Sir Ralph, who were not strong enough to meet their enemy in the field ; bKt the English knights occasionally dashed out from their defences to break a lance with the Scottish warriors, and many deeds of chivalry were performed on both sides. In one of these hostile meetings, Douglas and Hotspur encountered hand to hand, and after a long combat, the latter was discomfited, and his lance, with the silken flag at the extremity, was taken. This pennon the conqueror waved in triumph, and exclaimed, ' I will carry it to Scotland, and place it on the highest tower of my castle at Dalkeith, that it may be seen from afar.' ' By heaven, earl of Douglas,' cried Percy, ' you shall not bear it out of Northumberland : be assured, you shall never have this pennon in Scotland to brag of.' ' Then you must come this night, and seek for it,' replied Douglas, ' for I shall fix it before my tent.' Such was the defiance that led to the battle of Otterbourne, one of 232 MILITARY HISTORY. the fiercest engagements that had yet taken place be- tween the English and the Scots. 1388- — Douglas resumed his march up the river Tyne, and encamped at night in expectation of bis adversary's arrival ; but Hotspur, who thought that the main body of the Scottish army was at hand, did not dare to follow. At length, on the second day, he learned his error, and after mustering between 10 and 12,000 men, he followed in the track, of his enemy with furious speed, to recover his pennon. He came up with the Scots at midnight, but as the autumnal moon shone brightly, he gave the signal for instant onset, instead of resting his weary followers, and waiting for the dawn. The Scots were very skilfully posted at the hamlet of Otterbourne, in Redesdale, with one of their flanks protected by the river Rede, and the other by hills and morasses, while a vale in their rear gave assurance of a safe retreat. Hotspur charged with great fury, and might have taken his enemies by surprise ; but their right flank, which he assailed, was defended by a strong barricade, and his followers were entangled among the intricacies of the camp, during which Douglas had time to draw out his troops in order. And now commenced the fury of the battle : the Euglish shouted, ' A Percy ! a Percy !' while the Scots raised the war-cry of Douglas, and the soldiei-s of both armies rushed at once to close encounter, and fought man to man with axes, swords, and spears. At length the numbers of the English threatened to bear down their adversaries, when Douglas resolved, like his ancestors, to turn the scale of battle by a desperate effort of personal prowess. He grasped his heavy battle-axe with both hands, shouted his war-cry, and plunged amidst the throng, dealing such terrible blows, that every thing fell before his impetuous onset. But the English closed upon his rear, and separated him from his followers, while three spears wounded and bore him to the ground, in spite of the goodness of his armour. The rescue, however, which his terrible onslaught had produced, animated the Scots, who threw themselves with fresh ardour upon the enemy, while the English, in turn, began to reel and fall back, so that several Scottish knights, as they fought onward, advanced to the spot, where their brave leader lay dying. They stooped over him, and asked him how he fared. • But BATTLE OF OTTERBOURNE. 233 indifferently,' he faintly answered ; ' life is ebbing fast. There is a prophecy in our house, that a dead man shall ^vin the field, and I think the time has come. Conceal my death, raise my banner, shout my war-cry, and re- venge my fall.' The knights, in obedience to his dying order, charged among the English with impetuous fury, shouting the war-cry of their chief, whose death was still unknown to both armies ; and the English being already dispirited, at last betook themselves to flight. Nothing could exceed the desperation of this conflict, in which family rivalry was added to national hatred, and the English, although defeated, appear to have fought bravely to the last. Both the Percies were taken pri- soners, and many of their followers fell ; but when the Scots discovered that tlieir brave young chief had also fallen, their joy was turned into mourning. On the day after the battle, the bishop of Durham aiTived at Otter- bourne, with 7,000 soldiers, ready to renew the conflict. But when he found that Hotspur himself had been completely vanquished, he drew off" his forces without striking a blow, while the Scots renewed their march in a sort of melancholy procession, and joined the main body of their countrymen. In the mean time, as Richard attained the years of manhood, his incapacity for government became daily more apparent. His education had been neglected, and his uncles sacrificed the interests of the kingdom to their own selfish purposes ; and when he took the reins into his own hand, he gave himself up, as his great-grandfather (Edward II.) had done, to worthless favourites, by whom the royal authority was engrossed, and the land pillaged. A deposition similar to that of his unfortunate ancestor was the result, the causes of which we can only briefly enumerate. In a parliament held at Shrewsbury, in 1398, a quarrel broke out between the duke of Hereford (son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster) and the duke of Norfolk, in which the former accused the latter of having uttered slanderous words against the king. Norfolk gave Hereford the lie, and offered to prove his innocence in single combat, upon which a day was fixed for the decision of this quarrel in the lists, according to the laws of chivalry. But when the combatants had met at Coventry, on the I6th of September, and had couched their lances for a mortal £34 MILITARY HISTORY. career, in presence of the whole court, and a vast assemblage of spectators, the kiii^ commanded the champions to pause, and dismount from their war- steeds. He then pronounced this sentence — That the duke of Hereford should be banished for ten years from England, and Norfolk for life, but that each should be empowered, during his exile, to enjoy his paternal re- venues. Thus the one was banished who had been charged with no offence, and the other against whom nothing had been proved. Norfolk submissively with- drew, and went on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land ; but Hereford was not of so pliant a disposition. He went no farther than the continent, where he brooded over the injury, and meditated revenge. An event soon hap- pened that seemed to justify his resentment. His father, John of Gaunt, died in the following year, and Here- ford, according to the king's letters patent, should have been recognised as the heir. But Richard, who needed money, and cared nothing for engagements, took arbi- trary possession of the rich estates of the duke of Lan- caster. This injury done to the exile was keenly felt by many of the English nobilitys who were now weary of Richard and his favourites, and they sent invitations to Hereford to return to England, with promises to aid him in recovering his inheritance. It was easy for so popular a noble, thus strongly abetted, to confront even a better king than Richard, and the time was particularly favour- able for Hereford's return, as the king was employed iu an expedition in Ireland. He, therefore, se^ sail for England, with a small train of eighty armed followers, and landed at Ravenspur, in Yorkshire, on the 4th of July. He was immediately joined by the powerful earl of Northumberland, and his son Hotspur, after which all the northern barons flocked to his standard, so that he soon found himself at the head of 60,000 men. Although he declared, for the present, that he sought only to recover his inheritance, it is probable that a brighter prize animated his secret hopes. His modest pretence, however, was so available, that the duke of York, his uncle, who had been left regent of the kingdom, went over to him with all his forces, so that Hereford found nothing to oppose his career. He then captured and be- headed the obnoxious favourites without trial, and by this act he acquired additional popularity with all classes. DEPOSITION OF RICHARD II. 235 The king- returned in the following' month from Ireland, but perceiving the hopelessness of resistance, he dis- banded his forces, and took refuge in Conway castle. The descent of a king can be nothing but a rapid down- fal, and Richard's career was soon closed. He yielded himself to the duke, and was imprisoned ; he was ac- cused of incapacity, and obliged to resign the crown. Hereford talked no longer of his duchy, but of the vacant throne, to which he laid claim by a variety of absurd pretences ; and as lie had power upon his side, there was little inclination, for the present at least, to investigate the correctness of his title. Thus Henry of Lancaster, son of John of Gaunt, who was the fourth ■< on of Edward III., stepped into the throne by the title of Henry IV., while the earl of March, grand- son of the duke of Clarence, who was the third son of Edward III. was still alive. This usurpation took place on the 30th of September, 1399, and soon after the de- jiosed Richard was found dead in his prison of Ponte- tract Castle, in Yorkshire. Whether he perished by famine or violence has never been correctly ascertained. Henry had scarcely ascended the throne when he ex- perienced the usual annoyances of usurpers, in foreign wars, as well as domestic commotions. About the be- ginning of the year 1400, a dangerous conspiracy was formed against him, among those nobles who still ad- hered to the cause of Richard ; and they resolved to assassinate him at a tournament to be held at Oxford. But just the day before the appointed meeting, he ac- cidentally received notice of their purpose, and sought refuge in London. The conspirators then resolved to effect by force what they could not by fraud, and having dressed up and tutored a false Richard, they soon raised, in his name, a considerable army. But when the king marched against them at the head of 20,000 men, the coalition was dissolved more speedily than it had been formed. The people of Bourdeaux, by whom Richard was beloved, as the son of the Black Prince, now threatened to throw off their allegiance to England, to which they were instigated by the French king ; but a continental war was happily prevented, on this occasion, by the firmness and prudence of Henry, so that the malecontents returned to their duty. A war with Scotland after- wards ensued, and Henry, who resolved to act upon the 236 MILITARY HISTORY. ag-gressive, summoned the whole military force of Eng- land to meet him at York, and sent an imperious man- date to the Scottish nobility, asserting the paramount claims of the English crown over the whole island since the days of Brutus the Trojan, and commanding them to meet at Edinburgh, on the 23d of August, to do homage to him as their lord. The Scots laughed at the message, upon which Henry set his forces in motion, and pene- trated as far as Edinburgh ; but the castle defied his efforts, and after wasting time in a useless siege, he was obliged to return to England. Scarcely, however, had he returned, when a new enemy appeared in the field, in the person of Owen Glendower, the celebrated hero of Wales. This distinguished partisan warrior, who was about thirty years old when he assumed the office of a national champion, was born in Merionethshire, and was de- scended by his mother from Llewellyn, the last native prince of Wales. In his early days he entered the Inns of Court, in London, under his paternal nameof Vaughan, and afterwards commenced public life as a barrister. But finding, perhaps, the study of the law unsuited to his active spirit, he threw aside his parchments, and became a squire of the body to Richard II. whose for- tunes he followed until that king was deposed, after which he retired to his family estate in Wales. Here, however, he was disturbed by the aggressions of his powerful neighbour, Reginald, lord Grey, who unjustly dispossessed him of a portion of his land, upon which Glendower laid his case before the English parlia- ment — but in vain. Lord Grey added to this injustice repeated acts of oppression ; and the brave Welshman, finding that no help was to be found in the laws, re- solved to right himself by force of arms. His descent from the ancient princes of the land, his scholarship, which passed with the simple Welsh for profound ac- quaintanceship with necromantic lore, and the impa- tience of the natives under the dominion of England, soon gathered multitudes to his banner, upon which he proclaimed himself Prince of Wales, and renounced allegiance to the English king. He then (a. d. 1400) attacked the estates of lord Grey, of which he took forcible possession, and was so successful in other daring achievements, that Henry resolved, on his return from INSURRECTION OF GLENDOWER. 23T Scotland, to march against him in person. But thia expedition proved as fruitless as that which the king had conducted against the Scots ; for Owen Glendower fell back, and secured himself among the mountains in the neighbourhood of Snowdon, where he could not be assailed. As soon as Henry retired, the gallant Welsh- man sallied from his fastnesses, and fell upon several towns and castles belonging to the English in Mont- gomery and Monmouthshire, which he took and de- molished, after having inflicted great loss upon his enemies ; and the king, alarmed at these events, con- ducted another expedition into Wales, in the month of June 1401. But Glendower again prudently retreated before the advance of such superior numbers, and while he avoided a regular engagement, he harassed the English so incessantly in front, flank, and rear, that their advance was attended with all the calamities of a most signal defeat. In addition to these attacks of a flying enemy, whom he could never reach or encounter, Henry was assailed by the elements, that seemed to fight for the Welsh, and by famine and disease that wasted his troops, so that he began to believe, with the multitude, that Glendower was in truth a potent magician, as well as a stout warrior. As soon as the king was obliged to retreat, the dauntless Owen was again in the open field, at the head of his followers, and ready for aggressive warfare. He attacked his old adversary, lord Grey, at Ruthyn, took him prisoner, and either compelled or persuaded him to marry his daughter Jane, by which the Englishman was reduced to a harmless neutralitj'. After this exploit, he turned his arms against those Welsh districts that favoured the cause of England, and inflicted upon them a severe chastisement for their unpatriotic attachments. The cause of Glendower was now at its height. The Welsh students had abandoned the English universities, that they might join their national hero, while the Welsh labourers had forsaken their employers on the English plains, and ranged themselves under his banner. Prophe- cies, and portents also, were in abundance, to feed the country with assurances of freedom, and point out the descendant of Llewellyn as the promised deliverer. He led his followers, inspired by these hopes, against Sir Edmund Mortimer, and in a desperate engagement 238 MILITARY HISTORY. which took place at Pilleth Hill, near Knighton, in Radnorshire, 1100 of the English fell; and Sir Edmund himself, who was uncle to the young- earl of March, was taken prisoner, and from an enemy was soon converted into the friend and ally of Glendower. Henry, cursing the necromantic spells and ingratiating arts of his indomitable adversary, now planned a third Welsh in- vasion, in which the country was to be attacked at three different points at the same instant, by three strong divisions. According to this arrangement, the king was to muster the first division at Shrewsbury ; Warwick, Staflford, and other nobles, were to assemble the second at Hereford ; while the third was to be raised at Chester, by young prince Henry, afterwards the hero of Azincourt. But it was at this period that more important events than a Welsh invasion suspended the execution of the plan, and altered the whole cha- racter of the war. A short truce subsisting between England and Scot- land had terminated a.d. 1402, upoTi which the earl of Douglas embraced this opportunity for border warfare, and made an inroad into England. His first attempt was successful ; but in a second, he was surprised at West Nisbet by an English army commanded by his rival the earl of March, a Scottish nobleman in the ser- vice of Henry, and defeated with great loss. Douglas, enraged at this disaster, gathered an army of 10,000 men, and plundered Northumberland to the gates of New- castle, when he was encountered by a larger force, com- manded by the earl of Northumberland, his son Hotspur, and the eai-1 of March, at Homildon, within a mile of Wooler. Douglas was strongly posted upon a hill, and the fiery Hotspur was about to advance immediately to the charge, in which case he might have fared as he had done at Otterbourne, but his bridle was arrested by the earl of March, who entreated him to begin the battle with the cloth-yard shaft. The advice was taken ; knights and men-at-arms halted while the archers stepped forward, and as the Scots were drawn up on the acclivity of the hill, every soldier stood as a fair mark, so that scarcely an ai-row flew in vain. They were thus falling in heaps, when Sir John Swinton, a brave old Scottish knight, exclaimed impatiently, ' Why stand we here, to be shot at like a herd of deer 1 Let us down BATTLE OF HOMILDON. 239 upon these English, and fight them hand to hand, and die at least like men !' Only one Scottish kniuht. Sir Adam Gordon, obeyed the appeal, and both chiefs, at- tended by their respective followers, i-ushed down to close encounter ; but they were soon overpowered, and slain. Douglas now showed some inclination to descend the hill, but the opportunity had passed ; his ranks were broken, and they were soon put to flight, while himself, after receiving: five wounds and losing an eye, was made prisoner. With him were also taken Murdack, earl of Fife, the earls of Murray and Angus, and about twenty Scottish officers of distinction. This victory, instead of establishing, soon threatened to overturn, the throne of Henry, as well as the liberties of the kingdom. By an established law of chivalry, every victor was propiietor of his captive, whom he might ran- som or detain at pleasure ; and as knights found greater profit in capturing than slaying an enemy, the atrocities of the wars of the middle ages were greatly softened by this mercenary principle. The rich ransoms also of knights and nobles were of immense importance in maintaining that costly style of living, and open hospita- lity, by which the power and popularity of every chief was measured, and Hotspur might reasonably calculate upon a princely amount, for the liberation of those whom he had taken at Homildon. But Henry had designs upon Scotland which the detention of the Scottish no- blemen wotld greatly facilitate, and he commanded the victor on no account to compound for their deliverance. This command was felt by the Percies as the most sting- ing of all insults, ^^'ben Henry landed at Ravenspur with only eighty followers, they had joined the outcast, and raised him to the throne ; and now, he refused them a right which was conceded to the poorest knight or yeoman ! To soften the injustice of this command, the king, by letters patent, conferred upon Hotspur the ■whole earldom and lands of Douglas; but as these were still to be won, and could only be kept by the sword, the grant might as well have extended to the whole of Scot- land. Another ground of the resentment of the Percies arose from the refusal of Henry to ransom Sir Edmund Mortimer, their kinsman, from Glendower, because he was jealous of the superior rights of the house of Mor- timer. They now resolved to dethrone the ungrateful 240 MILITARY HISTORY. sovereign, and exalt in bis room the young earl of March, and for this purpose they foi-med a coalition that promised to be irresistible. They granted Douglas his liberty, on condition that he should join them with all his followers ; and they admitted Glendower into the confederacy, who promised to aid them with 10,000 sol- diers, as soon as they approached the borders of Wales. So confident now were the conspirators of success, that they divided England between them as if it had been an escheated property. Mortimer, in behalf of his ne- phew the earl of March, was to obtain all the country from the Trent and the Severn to the southern and eastern limits of the island ; the earl of Northumberland was to have all the land north of the Trent ; while the district to the north of the Severn was to belong to Glendower. Except in the case of the latter chieftain, we discover no particle of patriotism among the conspi- rators : all was the very soul of grasping selfishness, ani- mated by the desire of vengeance. 1403. — Fortunately for England, the talents and activity of Henry were equal to the trial. He hurried to Shrews- bury, and took the command of the forces which he had prepared for the invasion of Wales ; and by his able dis- positions he prevented Glendower and the Welsh from joining the army of the Percies. In the mean time, Hotspur and Douglas, who were marching towards the border of Wales at the head of 14,000 men, in expecta- tion of being joined by the Welsh anny, were con- fronted by the king at Shrewsbury, at the head of an equal force. It would have been the best policy of the Percies, on this occasion, to defer the engagement, until either Northumberland himself had arrived with the main part of the army, or Glendower could have broken through the obstacles by which he was shut out from the confederates ; but Hotspur was not of a temper to pause when an enemy was before him. He therefore published a fierce manifesto against Henry, charging him with treason, murder, and perjury, and renouncing his allegiance ; and on the morning of the following day (July 21st), the battle of Shrewsbury commeuced. Douglas at the head of his northern followers fell furi- ously upon the king's army, Hotspur advanced to sustain him, and as these two champions were reckoned the bravest soldiers of their respective countries, they were BATTLE OF SHREWSBURY. 241 eas-er to exceed each other on this occasion, in valour and daring. They therefore couched their lances, and drove abreast into the throng, unhorsing, throwing down, and slaying, all who were opposed to them. Douglas cuveted above all the honour of killing the king of Eng- land with his own hand ; but as Henry had caused several of his bravest knights to wear his arms and cognizances, the bewildered Scot struck them down v.herever they appeared, and shouted in wonderment, ' 1 marvel to see so many kings rising again ! where the devil do they come from "?' On the other side, the king cheered his followers by word and example, while his brave son Henry, although wounded in the face by an arrow, continued to fight gallantly by his side. But the splendid charge of Hotspur and Douglas, which had almost decided the day, was too transcendent to be equally seconded by their followers, so that these chiefa v/ere at last entangled among their enemies ; Hotspur fell in the throng, and his panic-sti-uck soldiers began to give way, after a desperate contest of three hours, in which victory had alternately inclined to either partj-. In this battle the number of slain on each side was nearly equal, but nothing could be more complete than the dis- comfiture of the rebels. The earl of Northumberland, who was or pretended to be sick, when the battle of Shrewsbury was fought, advanced when it was too late -('.ith a large body, to reinforce his son ; but on hearing the disastrous issue, he made peace with Henry, pre- tending that he had only armed for the purpose of me- diating between the parties — an apology which the pru- dent king saw fit for the present to receive. Several other members of the conspiracy, who afterwards re- newed the insurrection, were overcome, not by stroke of sword, but by policy and craft; and the earl of Northum- berland, who again took up arms, was so closely pressed by the king, that he was fain to fly, and take refuge in Scotland. Henry had now the opportunity of directing the whole brunt of his wrath against the obnoxious Glendower, whom he had successfully shut out from the battle of Shrewsbury ; and the young prince of Wales, although only seventeen years old, was appointed to head the expedition. But the Welsh chief entered into an al- liauce with Charles VI. king of France, in 1404, by M 242 MILITARY HISTORY, whom he was assisted with men and money ; and not- withstanding the defeat of his English friends, he was enabled to act upon the aggressive, and recover several castles from the English. Young Henry's arrival, however, changed the scene. Even already he manifested those splendid talents for war which were afterwards so con- spicuous in the conquest of France, and Glendower, after suffering two defeats from his titular rival, the one at Grosmont Castle in Monmouthshire, and the other at Mynydd pwl Melyn in Brecknockshire, was obliged to disband his few remaining forces, and become a solitary fugitive among his native mountains. But his patriot heart was still unconquered, and in consequence of the arrival of 12,000 French auxiliaries at Milford Haven, he ■was enabled once more to take the field as an open an- tagonist of England. But the French auxiliaries were soon weary of the war, in consequence of the vigorous proceedings of the king of England, so that, after a few skirmishes, they set sail from the principality, leaving the Welsh to shift as they best could. The history of the last and bravest of the Welsh princes, after this period, was an unceasing struggle against overwhelming multi- tudes, in which he might revenge his own wrongs with- out delivering his country. But whether at the head of a gallant band, or as a lonely wanderer among his native fastnesses, he still maintained his independence, and never ceased to be the enemy of the oppressors of his countrymen. In this manner he continued his resistance to the hour of his death, which took place at the house of one of his daughters, on the 20th of September 1415, during the succeeding reign, when he died with the melancholy consolation that he was still a free man, although his country was enslaved. The page is brief which history has vouchsafed to this unsuccessful patriot of a small principality; yet the record is precious, as exhibiting how much may be done under the most ad- verse circumstances by a single heart when it is animated with the love of country and the hope of liberty. While the war that was carying on against the Welsh was at its height, the weak, vain, and unprincipled earl of Northumberland, who had been alternately a fugitive in Wales and Scotland, was enabled in the latter country to gather a small force, with which he invaded North- umberland in 1408, and recovered several of his cas- HENRY V. 243 ties. Encouraged by this transient success, he advanced into Yorkshire, expecting to be joined by the whole force of the county, and published a manifesto, in which king Henry was stigmatized as a murderer and a usurper. But all his motions were closely watched by Sir Thomas Rokeby, the sheriff of York, who brought the earl to an engagement at Bramham Moor, near Ha- selwood, in which the rebels were routed, and Northum- berland killed. The body of this ambitious intriguer was dismembered, and the head and limbs were set up at London, and other parts of the kingdom. The country was thus reduced to comparative quiet, and France, the enemy most to be dreaded, was so rent with civil com- motions, that England had nothing to fear from her hostility. But the troubled reign of Henry IV. had now drawn to a close. The toils and anxieties of his usurped authority had reduced his strong frame to a premature decay, and he died at Westminster on the 20th of March, 1413, in the forty-sixth year of his age, and fourteenth of his reign. He was succeeded by his eldest son, Henry V. whose reign forms an important epoch in the military history of England. HENRY V. This illustrious sovereign was twelve years old at the period of his father's return from banishment ; and he was distinguished by the early talents which he dis- played for war, both at the battle of Shrewsbury, and in the campaigns which he conducted against the Welsh. But, as is often the case in courts, Henry IV. was jea- lous of the abilities of his successor, and there were pick-thank courtiers in abundance to widen the breach, in consequence of which the young prince was displaced from his seat in council, and forbade the court. By this exclusion from his proper sphere, his active mind was driven to low company and unworthy amusements, which were carefully reported to his jealous parent, so that even to the period of the king's death, young Henry was regard- ed by his father with suspicion and dislike. His excesses, however, have been magnified not only by courtiers and dramatists, but by historians, who report that he v as wont to repair to the highway with his dissolute compa- 244 MILITARY HISTORY. nions, and that he occasionally robbed the oflScers who were carrying money to his father's treasury. In con- sequence of these prevalent rumours, his accession to the throne of England was regarded with mistrust ; but his prudence soon dispelled the feeling. He instantly dismissed his riotous associates, promoted and honoured the prudent ministers of his father, and devoted his whole care to public affairs and the welfare of his king- dom. His superiority to every feeling of jealousy and fear was also displayed in his magnanimous conduct towards those who were his hereditary enemies. After bestowing a royal funeral upon the remains of Richard II. at which he attended as chief mourner, he freed the earl of March from confinement, to which he had been subjected during the late reign, and restored the family of Northumberland to all those honours and estate." which had been forfeited by their rebellion. These early measures dispelled the misgivings of the nation, and all parties united in applauding the virtues of their sove- reign. At this time the principles of WycklifF (or Lollardism), which were similar to those of the Reformation, had made great progress in England, to the dismay of the prelates, who resolved to crush these opinions by perse- cution : but as the known humanity of the young king would have been averse to such a measure, they resolved to occupy him so efFectually in foreign wars, that he should have no leisure to interrupt their proceedings. In this case, nothing was more easy than to revive the old claims of England to the crown of France, which had been so strenuously asserted by Edward III., whose rights were now supposed to rest in Henry V. It might even in this case have been alleged, that the claims upon France which Edward deduced from his mother Isabella were now vested in the earl of March, the lineal descendant ; but the rights of the latter were for the present in a state of abeyance. Henry was easily insti- gated to the attempt of conquest, not only by the large subsidies which the clergy agreed to furnish, but by the state of France, which now lay prostrate beneath two fu- rious factions, one headed by the duke of Burgundy, and the other by the duke of Orleans, while their unfortu- nate king, Charles VI., owing to mental derangement, was un&t for government. The English king, although HENRY V. 245 he saw his advantage, proceeded cautiously iu his mea- sures, and, without auuouucing his purposes, made every preparation for war. He even sought the French prin- cess, Catherine, in marriage, as if his intentions had been wholly pacific, and negotiated for a long peace or truce ; but he took care that nothing should be concluded, by always rising in his demands. At length, when all was ready, he threw off disguise, by ending the negotia- tion, and dismissing the French ambassadors. His pre- parations were finished, and his troops in readiness to embark, when he was startled by the tidings of a con- spiracy that had been formed by several of the nobles, among whom were some of his own friends and rela- tions, who designed to assassinate him, and proclaim the earl of March, king. The three ringleaders of the plot were the earl of Cambridge, lord Scrope, and Sir Tho- mas Grey, who were tried, condemned, and executed ; after which Henry set sail from Southampton, on the I3th of August, 1415, with 6000 men-at-arms and 24,000 archers, and landed on the following day near Harfleur, which he immediately proceeded to invest. Even while the king was thus thundering at the gates of France, the French nobles were frittering away their opportunities in factious debating, whether the duke of Orleans or the duke of Burgundy should be made protector of the kingdom. 1415.— The siege of Harfleur lasted five weeks ; and al- though the town was taken, the price which the conqueror paid for it was excessive, as it not only reduced his army by sickness, but gave the French court time to recover from its stupor ; for the duke of Orleans was chosen regent, and an army of 100,000 men was collected, to intercept the English on their march to Calais. In the mean time Henry, who found his army so much reduced, resolved to return to England by the way of Calais, instead of embarking at Harfleur — a bold experiment, as he had now only 10,000 soldiers, while a long tract of hostile country was to be passed over. But the measure was necessary, as any other mode of departure would have seemed a flight, in which case his future attempts on France would have suffered from such a charge. This daring march of one hundred miles, through every spe- cies of opposition and danger, commenced on the 8th of October, the English army moving in three lines, with 246 MILITARY HISTORY. bodies of cavalry on the wings ; and during their route, Henry never ceased to cheer them amidst their labours, while he fared like the meanest soldier. After a few skirmishes, in which the flying squadrons of the enemy were defeated, the English reached Abbeville on the 13th, and prepared to pass the Somme, near the ford which Edward III. had crossed before the battle of Crecy ; but here they learned that all the bridges were broken down, while the whole French army was drawn up on the opposite side of the river. Henry was there- fore obliged to march up the bank, and while thus em- ployed, he learned from some prisoners, that the French intended, on joining battle, to ride down and destroy the English archers by successive charges of cavalry, which were divided into squadrons for this purpose ; upon which he ordered every archer to furnish himself with a thick stake, six feet long, and sharpened at each end. A ford was fortunately discovered, and crossed by the whole army on the 19th ; after which they arrived at the village of Azincourt on the 24th ; where they found the whole French army drawn up to receive them. Although the Somme had thus been crossed, the French were confident of victory, and not without a show of reason. They were not only ten times more numerous than their antagonists, but they were fresh in health and spirits, while the English were sick, and weakened by diseases contracted at the siege of Harfleur, and by the privations of their march. This feeling upon either side was productive of most important consequences. The French were so sure of success, that they took no pains to secure it, while Henry, conscious of his weakness, availed himself of every resource by which his little army could be strengthened. He saw that an action was inevitable, and while he prepared for the encounter, his looks and words inspired resolution into the meanest follower of the camp. Hearing one of his ofiicers ex- pressing a wish that a few of those brave fellows who were now idle in England were at hand to help them, the king magnanimously exclaimed, ' No ; I would not have one man more. If we are defeated, we are too many ; but if God gives us the victory, we shall have the more honour.' A similar burst of courage was exhi- bited by David Gam, a Welsh captain, who was sent to reconnoitre the enemy. On being asked, at his return. HENRY V. 247 what was the number of the French army, he replied, ■ There are enough to be killed, enough to be taken pri- soners, and enough to run away.' Even on the niirht before the battle, the English soldiers, when they heard the French shouting, and calling- upon each other, began to mimic their outcries, till Henry was obliged to put a stop to their military merriment. The French nobles in the mean time were so certain of their prey, that they spent the night in playing at dice for the ransoms of the king of England and his nobles, who w-ere to be taken prisoners on the morrow. As for the common soldiers, these were all to be put to the sword without mercy. 1415- — On the morning of Friday, the 25th of October, being the day of Crispin and Crispianus, the two armies were drawn out for battle. The van of the French, con- sisting of 8000 knights and squires, 4000 archers, and 15,000 cross-bows, accompanied by the princes of Orleans and Bourbon, and the chief nobility of France, was led by D'Albret the Constable, who commanded the whole army ; the dukes of Alenjon, Brabant, and Bar, con- ducted the second line, while the third was drawn up under several approved chiefs, as a rear-guard to sup- port the other two. Henry, who resolved that his army should fight on foot, drew up his troops into a compact mass. His archers he placed at intervals, on every point of attack, having previously taught them to plant one end of their stakes firmly in the ground, with the point inclining outwards, to receive the French cavalry. Hia rear was protected by a village, and his flanks by briars and hedges. He had chosen his position so skilfully, that the enemy's numerous van could not come into ac- tion until it was drawn up thirty men deep, by which the greater part was rendered unserviceable. The French, hitherto so confident, were daunted at the skil- ful position and bold front of the English, and re- mained stationary; so that the king, fearing they would refuse battle, resolved to become the assailant. At ten o'clock he ordered the signal to sound, upon which the first line of the English knelt down, and kissed the ground : then starting to their feet, they discharged a shower of arrows. D'Albret answered this defiance, by a tremendous onset upon the dift'ereut points at the same instant, by the weight of which charge the English reeled, and were borne backwards two or three paces. At this 248 MILITARY HISTORY. spectacle the English chaplains, who were stationed in the rear, fell upon their faces, and sent loud orisons to heaven for the deliverance of their countrymen. But the lost ground was soon recovered, and the archers, darting out in detachments from the main body, and having stripped themselves of their upper garments that they might act the moi-e freely, discharged their arrows so rapidly, and with such force, that plate and mail were piercedasif they had been cloth, while men and horses fell in heaps. In tliis manner those detachments of French cavalry that had been designed to disperse the archers were destroyed, after they had spurred up again and again to the formidable palisade of stakes, which they were unable to penetrate. The hardy archery plucked up their stakes, and planted them once more in advance, while the French soldiers and men-at-arms fell or fled before their missiles ; after which they rushed upon the enemy with their hatchets, swords, and mallets. This forward move- ment brought the English in contact with the ene- my's main body ; and here the conflict was so terrible, that the crowded masses of the French fell in heaps, some of these frightful piles reaching to the height of a man, from the top or the sides of which the two parties alternately fought, as if these mounds of carnage had been common ramparts. Henry, who during the whole conflict had fought on foot, was conspicuous both by his Talour and a coronet set with sparkling stones, which he wore on his helmet ; and on attacking the second line of the French, commanded by the duke d'Alenjon, where the main struggle commenced, he was exposed to the utmost danger. The duke of Gloucester, his younger bro- ther, was thrown to the ground, and the king beat off the assailants until the duke was removed to a place of safety. Eighteen French knights, who had resolved to slay the sovereign of England, or perish in the attempt, fought their way to the place where he stood, and one of them struck him so fiercely on the helmet that the blow brought him to his knees ; but in a few moments this devoted party perished to a man. The duke d'Alengon, animated by the fury of despair, struck down the duke of York with his battle-axe, and as Henry hastened to the rescue of his kinsman, he received a blow from the same weapon which hewed off" a portion of his coronet. But Alenfou was immediately slain ; and such was the HENRY V. 249 confusion of his dense but recoiling ranks, that no effort of valour or military skill could have saved them : they were driven backwards heaps upon heaps, and slaught- ered almost without resistance. In this manner the se- cond line of the French army was defeated, and the third fled without striking a blow. Even yet, however, the victory seemed in suspense : a noise of assault was heard in the rear of the English army, and Henry, apprehend- ing that the enemy had rallied, gave hasty orders to his soldiers to kill all their prisoners, who were alieady more numerous than his whole army. But on learning that the attack was made by a mere mob of peasants for the pui-pose of plundering his baggage, he stopped the carnage before it was completed. Nothing could be more singular than the result of this terrible engagement. The English men-at-arms were so weakened by disease that many fought in their jackets, unable to bear the weight of their armour : many actually engaged without their lower garments, and not a few were hatless, and barefooted ; and yet, after a three hours' conflict, their loss of men was as trivial, as if they had been engaged in a paltry skirmish. But of the French 10,000 had fallen, of whom more than 8000 were gentlemen, including a long array of princely and noble personages, almost equal in number to the whole nobility of England. It was no wonder that Henry, after the battle, declared to the French heralds, that the sins of France and not his soldiers had wrought their defeat, and that he ordered ' Non nobi^ Domhie* to be chanted by the whole army. The English continued their march to Calais in tri- umph and unmolested, and embarked for England on the 16th of November. On their landing, the same even- ing, the people of Dover and the neighbouring country lined the shores, and even plunged into the sea to wel- come the hero of Azincourt. When he reached London, the whole metropolis rang with triumphant jubilee, and all the splendour which the wealth and taste of the age could furnish was expended in pageants, to grace his entrance. But the modesty and piety of Henry on this occasion were again conspicuous : he marched immedi- ately to St. Paul's, to return thanks to Heaven for his success ; and he refused to allow his bruised and broken helmet to be exhibited, as a trophy of his valour. After this, instead of returning to France, he remained iu M -2 250 MILITARY HISTORY. Englaud for tv/o years ; but during this interval, the contentions of the French nobles weakened their country more effectually than any hostile invasion. Party feel- ing and disorder still raged as furiously in that country as if there had been no enemy to dread ; and on the count d'Armagnac being invested with the direction of affairs, the duke of Burgundy, his unsuccessful rival, threw him- self into the arms of Henry, and engaged to support his claims with all his forces. Being strengthened by the alliance of such a powerful prince, the king again left England, and landed in Normandy on the 1st of August, 1417, with an army of 25,000 men. In the mean time, the French court were so much occupied in resisting the duke of Burgundy, that they had no troops to oppose the English, so that Henry took in rapid succession the towns of Caen, Bayeux, Mantes, Alenfon, and Falaise ; and he blockaded Rouen, which was too strongly forti fied and garrisoned to be taken by siege. No event of the war was of a more melancholy character than the blockade of this ancient and populous capital of Nor- mandy. As the city was pressed by famine, all the un- serviceable hands, to the number of 12,000, were driven cut, most of whom, after wandering about, perished mi- serably in the fields and ditches, after which the inha- bitants subsisted about three months chiefly on horses, dogs, cats, mice, and rats, until 50,000 had died of hun- ger. After seven mouths of resistance, the wasted garri- son sullenly opened their gates to the conqueror on the 19th of January, 1420. Thirty-five towns and castles, dismayed by this terrible example, yielded to Henry without a blow, and thus all Normandy was reduced to submission. He commenced his rule over the province by abolishing the heavy taxes that had been imposed by the French government, and causing his soldiers to treat the inhabitants with justice and humanity, so that the people were soon won by the popularity of his manners, and the gentleness of his government. While the king of England was thus successful, one half of France was busily destroying the other. The party of the duke of Burgundy having become masters of Paris, massacred the Constable and 2,000 of his ad- herents ; and on the subsequent entrance of the queen and duke into the capital, 14,000 more, of whom 5,000 were women, were butchered, so that the streets ran HENRY V. 251 with blood in torrents. A frenzy seemed to have per- vaded all classes, that blinded them to every feeling but the desire of vengeance, and the national madness was at last crowned by the assassination of the duke of Bur- gundy, who was murdered by the Armagnacs, with the young dauphin at their head. This last stroke sealed the fate of France, by converting the Burgundians and their young duke into unscrupulous allies of the Eng- lish, so that Henry, who had only 25,000 men to preserve his conquest of Normandy, was able to enforce his own terms with the French court. At length a treaty v.-as settled at Arras, by the ministers of France and Eng- land, on the id of December 1419, of which the chief conditions were, — that Charles should enjoy the crown during life, but that Henry should be regent of the kingdom, and succeed to the throne on the demise of the French king ; also, that he should espouse the princess Catherine, without expense to her father or the kingdom. In the May of the following year, the treaty was de- finitively confirmed, and the nuptials of Henry with the princess of France were solemnized. Being thus vir- tually the sovereijin of France, he proceeded to repress the factions by which it had been torn in pieces ; and this he performed so successfully, that the Armagnacs were deprived of their strong places, and their leader the dauphin was declared guilty of high treason, and incapable of the royal succession. Being thus every where successful, and having restored France to a state of comparative quiet, he left his brother the duke of Clarence lieutenant in his absence, and returned to England, where his queen was crowned on the 22d of February 1421, with great splendour and rejoicing. The case of the dauphin now seemed hopeless, when a gallant reinforcement arrived in France, to retrieve his ruined affairs. This was a body of 5 or 6,000 Scots, under the command of the earl of Buchan, and containing many adventurous nobles and knights, who were eager to serve under so distinguished a warrior. They were en- camped at Bauge, a village in Anjou, accompanied by a small body of Frenchmen, when the duke of Clarence, who was invading that province, soon learned that he was in the neighbourhood of these bold auxiliaries. The fiery prince was at table when the intelligence reached him, upon which he immediately started to his feet, with the 252 MILHAHY HlSTOliY. exclaiuation, ' Upon them, gentlemen ! Let the men-at- arms mount, and follow me !' He made a rapid march, hoping to surprise the Scots ; but a band of Frenchmen, ■who garrisoned the church of Baugfc, resisted his pro- gress until their allies had time to form, which they effectually did on the opposite bank of the river Coesnon. Clarence, however, was eager to engage, and spurred forward to possess the bridge, while the Scottish knights came down with equal speed to defend the passage. It was then that a terrible encounter ensued between the two armies, which, although small in numbers, were distinguished by national I'ivalry, and the highest mili- tary reputation in Europe. In the shock of battle, tlie English prince, who was conspicuous by a sparkling- coronet of precious stones upon his helmet, was singled out by Sir William Swinton, who wounded and un- horsed him ; and as he strove to remount his steed, the earl of Buchan struck him dead with a blow of his mace. With him perished many brave English knights, and 1400 men-at-arms, besides the earl of Kent, and the lords Grey and Ross. Nothing could be more welcome to the dauphin than this bright gleam of success ; and Buchan was invested with the high office of Constable of France, while Stewart of Darnley, his companion in arms, was rewarded with the lordship of Aubigny. Henry, on receiving the tidings of this disaster, hur- ried to London, and assembled a parliament, fiom which he obtained a grant of subsidies to renew the war ; after which he embarked his army, and landed at Calais on the 10th of June. Having entered Normandy, he hastened to the relief of Chartres, which was besieged by the dauphin, who retired at his approach. He then reduced Dreux, and several other places of streng'th, that still adhered to his rival. The dauphin took post at Beaugency, on the Loire, and there screwed up his courage for a manly effort ; but on the rapid approach of Henry he again fled, while his army dispersed. In the mean time, the English troops suffered so much from sickness, that they required some respite ; but after a rest of four weeks, the indefatigable Henry was again in the field, and employed in the siege of Meaux, oi e of the strongest towns in France. The garrison was com- manded by a miscreant, called the Bastard of Vaurus, w tio had ravaged the .<5urrounding country, and haiged HKNRY V. 253 every Englishman who fell into his hands upon a certain tree, which wjis distinguished by the title of the oak of Vturus. Henry pressed the siege with the most deter- mined valour, and no quarter was given on either side. The town was taken, but the garrison held out in a quarter called the market-place, which was so strong jv* to be deemed impregnable ; but after a stubborn resist- ance, it was obliged to sun*ender on the 10th of May 1422. On this occasion poetical justice was rendered to Vaurus, who was hanged upon his own oak. During the sieg-e, the king was gratified by the tidings of his queen having been delivered of a son at Windsor, ou the 6th of December 1421, and afterwards by the arrival of Catherine herself, who joined him in his camp before ^leaux. The dauphin, whose cause was thus baffled at every point, again collected an army which, with his auxiliaries from Scotland and Castile, amounted to 20,000, com- manded by the earl of Buchan.now Constable of France ; iind with these he took La Charitft, and then laid siege to Cosue, a town on the Loire, belonging to the duke of Burgundy. The garrison agreed to surrender if not re- lieved by a certain day, upon which the duke collected his forces to relieve the town, and sent to the king of England for a reinforcement. Henry declared, in reply, that he would march in person at the head of his troops, to share in tlie glory of the exploit,— but he was uncon- scious that his wars were ended. He had for some time been afflicted with fistula, which the medical skill of the age was unable to cure ; and having proceeded with his army as far a» Senlis, he became so feverish that he was obliged to pause, and send the troops forward under the command of his brother, the duke of Bedford. On the junction of the English and Burgundian armies, the Dauphin was unwilling to risk a battle, in which defeat would have been the ruin of his cause ; he, therefore, broke up the siege of Cosne, upon which the duke of Bedford and the earl of Warwick hurned back to the sickbed of their beloved sovereign, and found him dying. He was still young, and a conqueror ; it was but lately that he had become a husband, and a father, and in a few months more the declining health of Charles would have seated him upon the throne of France. But these enjoyments and those prospects were equally to 254 MILITARY HISTORY. be relinquisiied, while the successor to bis throne and ccTiqussts was only a helpless infant. All this was an amoant of bitterness such as few could experience, or even ur-derstand ; but his pious and heroic spirit con- templated it without murmuring-. After thanking his brother and friends for their affection and faithful ser- vices, he entreated them to serve his son with the same fidelity. The unsettled state of France chiefly claimed his anxiety, and, therefore, he entreated them to culti- vate carefully the friendship of the duke of Burgundy, upon whose good offices their hold upon the French kingdom must depend, and to offer him the regency ; but if he refused that office, it was to be held by the duke of Bedford, while the duke of Gloucester was to be Pro- tector of England. After exhorting them to concord and unanimity among themselves, he charged them not to liberate the duke of Orleans, and other noble prisoners whom he had taken at Azincourt, so long as his son was a minor; and to make no peace with France without obtaining Normandy in full sovereignty. He then dis- missed all secular cares, that he might attend to the welfare of his soul ; he ordered his chaplain to recite the seven penitential psalms ; and when that verse was read which prays for the building up of the walls of Jerusalem, the king eagerly interrupted him with the declaration, that he had intended, after becoming king of France, to deliver and rebuild the Holy City. A few moments after, he expired. Tiiis mournful event occurred on the 31st of August 1422, in the 34th year of his age, after a reign of nine years, five mouths, and fourteen days. Such was the brief but glorious career of Henry V., one of the gentlest of sovereigns, and bravest of con- querors. However we may condemn his aggi'ession upon France, we must recollect his peculiar situation. While he firmly believed that the rights of Edward III. were his own, and that they had been set aside by an unjust decision, the example of that monarch and his heroic son, the Black Prince, fired him with emulation, as well as showed the facility with which France might be won. The distracted state of that kingdom was also peculiarly tempting, and such was the enormous wicked- ness of its nobility, coupled with the wretchedness of the people, that he seems to have regarded himself as HENRY V. 255 an instrument in the divine hand, to punish the guilty and relieve the miserable. Such also were his gentleness and love of justice, that France was more effectually conquered by these, than by the force of his arms. As if to complete the picture, we are informed, that he was learned for the period, and a lover of music ; of a beau- tiful countenance, and noble form ; unmatched in every military and manly exercise, and so swift of foot, that he ran down a doe at the top of its speed. It was per- haps, however, as fortunate for England as for France, that his triumphant course was so quickly terminated. Both kingdoms could not have remained free under one government, and the weaker must have finally become a province of the stronger. England, relieved from the danger of such a union, has attained an elevation of na- tional glory and prosperity, that might satisfy the most ambitious. CHAPTER VII. Ffom the accessio7i of Henri/ VJ. to the expulsion of the English from France. At the demise of the hero of Azincourt, his son, the unfortunate Henry YI. was not nine months old. The duke of Bedford was appointed regent of France, and Humphrey, duke of Gloucester, protector of England, with a council of the nobles, by which his authority was limited ; the earl of Warwick, a brave and chivalrous nobleman, was tutor to the infant sovereign by the will of the late king. Henry V. had not long been dead when he was fol- lowed by his father-in-law, .Charles VI. ; and at his funeral the infant son of the former was proclaimed king of France and England by universal acclamation. But the death of Charles, instead of strengthening, only weakened, the claims of the English; for those who would not support the dauphin during the life of his fa- ther, were now willing to recognise him as the legiti- mate sovereign of France. He was therefore proclaimed king, at Poictiers, by his followers ; but the solemnity wa3 sad and imperfect, while the character of the youth, as yet only twenty years old, was ill qualified for a na- tional hero and deliverer. His chiefs and councillorti 256 MILITARY HISTORY. also were eminent neither for virtne nor talent ; his re- sources were scanty ; and against him was opposed the whole power of England and Burgundy, headed by the duke of Bedford, a leader little inferior to Henry him- self. Besides this, his capital and two-thirds of his king- dom were in possession of the English, while his only foreign allies were the Scots. The measures of the duke of Bedford still farther strengthened the ascendancy of England. He fixed the powerful duke of Bretagne in his interests, and drew closer the bond of alliance with the duke of Burgundy by man-ying his youngest sister. He then took the field, aud a number of skirmishes fol- lowed, in which the cause of the dauphin was reduced to the lowest ebb. At last the battle of Crevant, which occurred in July 1423, seemed to render the circum- stances of young Charles utterly hopeless. While em- ployed in the siege of Crevant, he was attacked by the earl of Salisbury, at the head of an army of English and Burgundians, and totally defeated. The loss fell chiefly upon his Scottish allies, who were basely deserted by the French ; 3000 of their number fell in the field of battle, and by this defeat Charles had lost the only army he could then assemble. He fled into obscurity, and alter- nately resigned himself to dissipation and despair, till he was again dragged into the field by the heroic re- monstrances of his wife and his mistress, who seem to have been equally patriotic in the deliverance of their country. He was reinforced at the same time by the earl of Buchan, constable of France, who returned from Scotland with .5000 men, accompanied by the earl of Douglas, whom we have formerly seen at Homildon and Shrewsbury. This arrival was so seasonable, that Charles created Douglas ' duke of Touraine,' and entrusted the guard of his person to a body of Scottish soldiers. After several military movements of trivial importance, theEng lish, under the earl of Salisbury, laid siege to Ivry, which was agreed to be surrendered if not relieved before the 1.5th of August, 1424. The dauphin, who, by reinforce- ments from Milan and Scotland, was at the head of 18,000 men, advanced to raise the siege ; but on finding the duke of Bedford himself with his whole army strongly posted to receive him, he retired, and invested Verneuil, in Perche. Bedford, on the fall of Ivry, hurried to the relief of Verneuil ; and having selected ground favour- BArrLE OF VERNELIL. 257 able for a battle, he sent a message to Douglas, telling him that he was conaing- to drink wine and revel with him ; to which the earl replied, that the duke would be most welcome, as he had come all the way from Scot- land to join him in a carouse. Such were the sportive preludes to the battle of Verneuil, which proved the fiercest engagement since the days of Azincourt. But the valour of the Scots was neutralized on this occasion by the jealousy of the French nobles towards Douglas, and the headlong impetuosity of their soldiers, who rushed on without orders, or regard to the unfavourable nature of the ground. The English archers planted their stakes, and discharged their arrows — upon which the Italians, who were first in the onset, fled in an instant ; the French and Scots fought gallantly for three hours, but at length were driven from the field ; and the earls of Buchan and Douglas, the greater part of the Scottish officers, and many of the French nobility, were slain. The loss of the English was also heavy, as 2000 of their bravest fell. This battle was fought on the 17th of Au- gust, 1424, and Charles, who was again without an army, hurried into his former concealment, and congenial dis- sipation. The fate of France and its native sovereign seemed now to be reduced to the lowest point ; but here, as fre- quently happens in common life, the period of reaction commenced. The conquerors, when there were none to oppose them, quarrelled among themselves, and negatived their successes by a series of irretrievable blunders. The members of the English council were at variance with each other, and contended, when they should have been unanimous in sending supplies to the duke of Bed- ford ; so that this brave leader was never able to follow up his victories from want of men and money. The rash but amiable duke of Gloucester also embroiled the con- fusion, by marrying Jacqueline, countess of the fertile provinces of Haiuault, Holland, Zealand, and Friesland, to the sore displeasure of her suzerain the duke of Bur- gundy, and levying an English army to reinstate her in her forfeited inheritance. Burgundy, although the ef- fective ally of England, was by no means desirous to see these rich provinces of his dominions under the rule of an English prince, and therefore he naturally recalled his forces from the main army, to oppose the claims of 258 MILITARY HISTORY, the intruder. The powerful chiefs of Richmond and Bre- tagne were also persuaded to forsake the interests of England, and espouse the cause of Charles. On account of these difficulties, the duke of Bedford could make no progress, and the war languished for nearly live years. But while these circumstances could only partially aid, without accomplishing, the deliverance of France, that great object was ensured by a stupendous miracle in the history of nations — by the appearance and supernatural career of Joan of Arc, the celebrated maid of Orleans. This wonderful creature was born at Domreny, a small hamlet in Champagne, in 1411 or 1412. Her parents were bumble cottagers, and her early youth was remarkable among her neighbours for modesty, gentleness, and kindness, and above all for amiable, devoted piety. At the age of thirteen, instead of joining in the Tillage dances and songs, like the other young maidens of the country, she withdrew to the church, while her favoujite theme among her companions was the character of the Deity, and the history of the Mother of our Saviour, of whom she spoke with affecting enthusiasm. Her prin- cipal occupations were the tending of sheep, and the usual work of her father's little farm, all which she performed with active care and cheerfulness. But even amidst these lowly occupations her mind was gradually visited by loftier impulses. The village in which she lived bordered upon the territories of Burgundy, so that she beheld at an early period the calamities of civil war, and she often heard the dauphin described as an amiable prince, only a little older than herself, excluded from his paternal throne, and obliged to become a helpless wan- derer in his own country, exposed to the treachery of false friends, and the persecution of foreigners. As she brooded from month to month over these melancholy reflections, and contemplated the growing miseries of her country, her enthusiasm gradually underwent a change. She was now persuaded that France was to be delivered, and that Heaven had designed her for the work. This she was assured of by her sleeping dreams and waking impulses, as well as by the voices of invisi- ble saints and angels, who often enlivened her solitude with accents that transcended the sweetest of earthly music, so that when they left her she wept, and wished they had taken her with them. It was also stated after- SIEGE OF ORLEANS. 259 wards by her contemporaries, that she was distinguisihed for strength and activity, as well as great still and courage in horsemanship, from her practice of riding horses to water, and that she often tilted with a long stick, which she wielded like a lance. Was it a special divine impulse rather than natural enthusiasm, that directed her to these exercises, which were to be at- tended by such results ? She frequently also alluded to a mysterious prophecy which, at this time, floated among the common people — that France having been destroyed by a married woman (the Queen of Charles VI.) was to be re-established by a virgin. At length the extreme hour of the jeopardy of France brought forward the deliverer. The duke of Bedford had reconciled the dissentients, after which he directed his whole force to the siege of Orleans, the great bulwark of Charles's cause. The fall of this city would have in- volved the final ruin of the dauphin, as it was his last place of strength, and, therefore, while the English attacked, the French defended it with equal courage and desperation. Many heroic deeds of chivalry were per- formed on either side, but the English finding that they could not take Orleans by force, resolved to depend upon the slow though sure operations of a blockade. The place, therefore, was closely invested, and seemed to be upon the point of falling, while Charles was about to with- draw in despair to Sj)ain or Scotland, when the public mission of Joan of Arc commenced. The heavenly voices had become more importunate and persuasive, and they commanded her to apply to Baudricourt, the lord of Vaucouleurs, for means of conveyance to the presence of the dauphin; but the astounded nobleman, when applied to, thought that she was mad, and refused her message with contempt. But Joan was not thus to be daunted at the outset. She continued her importunities, until Baudricourt was either persuaded of her divine mission, or stunned into compliance, so that he gave her a sword, a steed, and a small escort. When she was told of the dangers of the journey, she boldly replied, ' I fear not men-at-arms, and I am born for my enterprise.' The small band of impoverished and despairing fol- lowers who now constituted the court of Charles, were living at Chinon ; and on the arrival of Joan at that town, they deliberated whether she ought to be received 260 MILITARY HISTORY or not. There were few of them who would not have sneered at the idea of such a divine commission as that to which she laid claim ; but their afTairs were now so desperate, that nothing could injure them farther, while amidst the thousand chances of political events, the present might be successful. It was decided that she should have a hearing : but to test her prophetic skill, the dauphin stepped aside, while his knights, richly attired, occupied the front of the hall. The youthful shepherdess entered, and immediately selecting the dauphin from the gay throng, she knelt down and em- braced his knees. Before the by-standers recovered from their astonishment, she said, ' Gentle dauphin, my name is Joan, the maiden, and the King of Heaven informs you, through me, that you will be crowned in the city of Rheims. You will be the lieutenant of the King of Heaven, who is the king of France.' The dauphin still appeared to hold out, and led her aside for a private conference, when he soon returned in visible perturba- tion, assuring the courtiers she had told him a secret known only to God and himself. The court soon was, or appeared to be persuaded, but it was necessary that the impression should be general, and, therefore, Joan was submitted to the rigid examination of lordly pre- lates and learned doctors, from the fear that she might prove an impostor, or even a sorceress ; but she answered their arguments and removed their scruples so effec- tually, that they proclaimed their conviction that she was a saint and a prophetess. These wonderful tales in the mean time had gone forth, and as it was the interest of the people to believe that they would be delivered, they therefore believed readily, more especially when their deliverance was to be wrought by a miracle. Nothing now remained but to show her abroad ; a suit of armour was, therefore, expressly forged fur her ; she girded to her side a miraculous sword that had lain buried behind the altar of St. Catherine, but which her voices had revealed to her, and she appeared before the multitude mounted upon a war-steed. Although as yet only in her eighteenth year, she managed her horse, and brandished her sword and lance, with all the gracefulness and ease of the most practised chevalier; while the expressiveness of her countenance, and beauty of her form, gave an ad- ditional charm to the display. The people were now as JOAN OF ARC. 2G1 elated with hope, as they had been formerly depressed with despair, and as the raising of the siege of Orleans was the first step of Joan's miraculous commission, they clamoured impatiently to be led against the English, over whom they were now confident of success. 1429. — The chiefs on the side of Charles were willing to avail themselves of this hopeful enthusiasm, and 7,000 men, headed by the Maid, and marshalled by the two celebrated captains, Dunois and La Hire, commenced their march to Orleans, which was now closely girdled with hostile fortresses, and reduced to the last extremity. The English had not been deaf to the strange tales that had lately been bruited abroad, but although they pre- tended to laugh at the French for resting their last hopes upon a silly peasant girl, they still felt a strange mis- giving at heart, which all their philosophy could not banish, and wondered where the matter would end. Upon this point, at least, they were not kept long in suspense. The French army appeared in sight, full of courage, in a sort of half-military, half religious pro- cession, and at its head rode the Maid of Orleans, in complete armour, bearing aloft a white banner impressed with the picture of the Saviour, and the inscription — ' Jhesu Maria.' Joan commanded that the convoy should cross the Loire at once, and advance on the right bank on which the city stood, but Dunois, who judged this scheme unmilitary, as it would lead them between the two strongest forts of the English, attempted another safer mode of relief, — which, however, failed. He returned, therefore, to her proposal, and every thing seemed unexpectedly to contribute to its success. The wind changed, and bore the vessels laden with pro- visions into the city ; a sally of the garrison distracted the attention of the besiegers, and Joan, at the head of a party, entered the city gates at twilight. On her arrival in the town, which occurred on the 30th of April, the delighted citizens crowded round to touch the hem of her garment, or even see her at a dis- tance, while all received her as an angel sent from Heaven. But Joan modestly shunned their acclamations, and retired to the principal church to perform her devotions, after which she refused the rich supper that was provided for her, and contented herself with a few morsels of bread dipped in wine, and retired to rest. On 262 MILITARY HISTORY. the following day she ascended the ramparts, and sum- moned the English to surrender, or raise the siege, but they abused her so coarsely in reply, that she shed womanly tears of virtuous indignation. The convoy was now to be introduced within the walls, upon which Dunois went out to meet it, while Joan, with a party, stationed herself between the walls and the besiegers, to protect its arrival ; but not a cannon was fired, not an arrow discharged. The French reinforcements ap- proached, headed by the priests of St. Blois chanting litanies and hymns of triumph, while the English gazed from their posts, shuddering with religious dread, and undetermined whether Heaven or hell was arrayed against them. The convoy thus proceeded, and, amidst the acclamations of friends and the deep silence of enemies, entered Orleans unmolested. The contending parties seemed now to have exchanged characters — on the one. side there was nothing but eager- ness and hope, while on the other all was despondency or despair. The English, indeed, still fought with their native hardihood ; but even this could not long avail against that reaction of enthusiasm by which the French were inspired, so that they invariably quailed before the white banner of the Maid, and the onset of her eager followers. The premonitions of Joan in her prophetic character also seemed miraculous, and of this an in- stance was given in her first conflict with the besiegers. A part of the garrison, kindled by their new enthusiasm, had devoted themselves, unknown to the governor, to the capture of the English bastile, or fort, called St. Loup, which was one of the nearest to the city. They assailed, and possessed themselves of the redoubt, but were driven back, and on the point of being overwhelmed by num- bers. At this moment Joan, starting from sleep, ex- claimed, with a wild cry, • My voices have told me that I must attack the English— the blood of our countrymen is running like water— my horse, and my arms !' She spurred through the streets to which the wounded were returning, and hurried to the place of attack. The French rallied at the sight of her banner, and for three hours a desperate conflict raged, during which she was foremost in every danger, until at length the English were driven from their post, and the fort was taken. In an assault upon another fort, which was considered so SIEGE OF ORLEANS RAISED. 2G3 strong as to be impregnable, the French rushed on with a fervour of inspiration onlj- to be paralleled in the early wars of the Moslem, with the Maid at their head, alter- nately lighting and exhorting, when, in attempting to be foremost to scale the rampart, she was wounded in the neck by an arrow, and fell to the ground. She was res- cued by her friends, and withdrawn from the tumult ; and then for a moment she was overcome with pain, and burst into tears. But again the sweet voices, which were like music to her heart, came to comfort and restore her, and causing the wound to be hastily dressed, she agaiu rushed to the fight. Her fall had so dispirited the French, that Dunois, and the other chiefs, sounded a retreat, and were returning to Orleans, when Joan suddenly re- appeared, as if she had risen from the dead. She coun- termanded the order, and the battle was renewed. The English, confounded by her unexpected appearance, and the fresh onset, knew not whether they fought with men or spirits ; and they soon saw the Maiden herself upon the battlements waving her flag, and commanding them to surrender. The fortress was won, and after these conflicts, in which the English had lost about 8,000 men, they were compelled to raise the siege of Orleans. Thus, only five days after Joan's arrival this, the first promise she had made, and which had seemed to be an impossi- bility, was triumphantly fulfilled ; and the second, which was the crowning of Charles at Rheims, without which she could never consider him as full king of France, was now a necessary consequence. Her mission had inflicted a deadly blow upon the moral energies of the invaders, that was soon to be felt even to the remotest hamlets of England, so that the hardy yeomen refused to enrol themselves for the wars of France, ' from fear of the Maid.' It is worthy of remark, also, that during these events before Orleans, Joan's measures, although de- cried as opposite to all military rule, and chiefly forced upon the officers by her popular ascendancy, were inva- riably attended with success. Without being conscious that she had adopted a system of strategy, she acted upon the same plan adopted by her great countryman of modem times, and which excited equal wonder among thorough-paced martinets— that of bringing the greatest force upon a single point, and destroying an enemy in detail. The English endeavoured to comfort themselves 264 MILITARY HISTORY. in the thought, that Joan, instead of heing commissioned by Heaven, was a child of the devil : but this argument brought slender consolation, for the devil, who had al- ready expelled them from Orleans, might also drive them out of France. The Maid was now impatient to commence the march to Rheims, where her mission was to be accomplished ; but in this movement she was obliged to overcome the timidity of the dauphin, and the military scruples of his officers, who thought of nothing farther at present than the reconquest of Normandy. Her enthusiasm and re- monstrances overpowered their scruples, and a small army of 10,000 men, under the duke d'Alenjon, was set in motion, to second her wishes. Jargeau, which was defended by a powerful garrison under the earl of Suf- folk, was first invested, and, after some skirmishing, she ordered the trumpets to sound for a general assault. Alengon declared that it was not yet time, to which she answered, ' It is time when it pleases God.' Seeing him still hesitate, she added, * Ah, gentle duke, are you afraid ? Did I not promise your wife to bring you back safe and sound V She immediately flew to the breach, and was followed by the whole army : she planted a ladder amidst a shower of missiles, and ascended, but was struck down by a heavy stone that lighted upon her helmet. The English shouted ' Victory !' but she in- stantly sprang to her feet, and calling out, ' Frenchmen, take courage ; our God has condemned them !' she re- turned to the assault, and the place was taken. The strong mind of the duke of Bedford was per- plexed amidst these emergencies, so new in the annals of warfare ; and he wrote home a mournful account of the war, in which he described his new antagonist under the terms of ' a disciple and limb of the Fiend, called the Pucelle, that used false enchantments and -sorceries.' All that he could do was to collect 4000 men under Sir John Fastolfe, and send them to reinforce the remains of the English army under lord Talbot. A few weeks before, the French would have fled at the bare report of such a force ; but now they went in search of it. At their council of war, Joan exclaimed to the offi- cers, ' In the name of God, let us fight the English though they were suspended in the clouds.' * But where shall we find them V said the commanders. • Forward, for- SUCCESSES OF JOAN OF ARC. 265 ward,' cried the Maid, ' and God will guide you !' They found the English on the 18th of June, posted at the vil- lage of Patay, near Anvile. But they were no longer an army of conquerors, but a confused and panic-struck crowd, some insisting that they should fight on horse- back, and others that they should give battle on foot. They at last advanced in good order to engage, and the duke d'Alenfon asked the Maid what was now to be done. ' Have you good spurs, my lord V she ex- claimed with promptitude. ' Are we to fly then V asked the duke. * No,' cried the heroine ; • it is the English who must fly, and you will need your spurs to overtake them.' The French advanced, and the English at the sight of Joan's standard fled like a flock of deer, and were chased with great slaughter, 1800 being killed in the pursuit, while lords Talbot, Scales, and Hungerford, and a hundred gentlemen, were taken prisoners. These successes so revived the courage of the French, tliat numerous reinforcements joined the army, and Charles no longer hesitated to commence his march to Kheims. It was more like a triumphal procession than a hostile expedition ; the gates of towns and fortresses flew open to welcome his coming, or if they were shut, it was only till Joan advanced with her sacred standard, and summoned them to surrender. At last the lity of Rheinis was reached, and here Charles hesitated, !ur the city was garrisoned by a strong English force, and he had neither cannon nor machines. Had he paused in his career, a reaction might have followed ; but the enthusiasm of the Maid bore him onward without the power of resistance, and the dismayed garrison, instead f manning the walls, only consulted their own safety. Thus, only eighteen days after his march commenced, Charles was master of that city which had long enjoyed a peculiar sanctity from being the place of the coro- nation of the kings of France. This august ceremony was now performed, Joan standing by the side of the king with her white banner in her hand ; and when all was done, she threw herself at his feet, clasped his knees, and shed tears of delight. She declared that her mission was ended, and begged permission to return to her former humble condition , but Charles thought that she might still be useful to the cause of France, and by earnest representations he persuaded her to remain. N 266 MILITARY HISTORY. The crowning of Charles at Rheims was by no means an idle pageant. On the contrary, it was the symbol of his legitimate authority, and a proof of his real power, so that even those Frenchmen who were under the do- minion of England, now recognised him as the lawful king of the realm ; and many places of strength that had hitherto stood out against him, expelled their English or Purgundian garrisons, and returned to their rightful so- vereign. The English power was thus so much weak- ened, that the duke of Bedford was reduced to the me- lancholy condition of standing on the defensive, while hostile armies were in the field, and towns daily revolt- ing to the new king ; and as Charles was tampering "With the duke of Burgundy, he was obliged to make large concessions to that powerful prince, to retain him in the English interest. In order also to counteract the coronation at Rheims, he resolved to crown young Henry at Paris ; but England was so much exhausted by the expenses of the war, that six months were spent in rais- ing money to defray the expense of sending the royal hoy to France, for the purpose. He came to Calais at- tended by a considerable number of English troops ; but most of these deserted, and returned home, dismayed by the tales that were told them about the Maid of Orleans. Henry was conducted to Rouen, where he stayed for eighteen months, because the events of the war were such that it was questionable whether he could be crowned at Paris or not, while the English finances were so low, that it would be some time before they could endure the cost of a coronation. At last, this ceremony was per- formed, December 17, a. d. 1431, but the speculation was too late to be profitable ; and to understand this we must now resume the narrative of Joan of Arc, during the last stages of her heroic career. The duke of Bedford had succeeded in fixing the duke of Burgundy in the English interests, by whom he was strongly reinforced ; and an army of 5000 English, which had landed at Calais under the cardinal of Winchester, and which was designed for a crusade against the re- formers of Bohemia, was incorporated with his troops, so that he was once more able to appear in the field. Joan, also, who had hitherto been so successful, was en- Tied by the French leaders, who had become weary even of her successes, because all were attributed to her JOAN TAKEN PRISONER. 2(37 cuiJance ; and she was disliked by multitudes of the sol- diers, on account of her strict piety, and the rigid seve- rity with which she banished all military licence from the camp. Even so trivial an event, also, as the break- ing of her sword, while striking with the flat of it certain lewd women, and their companions, who had intruded into the encampment, aided in destroying the opinion of her invincibility. It was the weapon which had been found behind the altar of St. Catherine, and which she had worn in all her victories. The siege of Pa- ris, which was the first repulse she had sustained, and in which she was severely wounded, still farther shook her credit with the French soldiery ; and although she af- terwards took St. Pierre le Monstra, she was baffled in an attack upon Charite-sur-Loire. In May, 1430, she defeated after a desperate resistance a strong force of English and Burgundians near Lagny, but %vas unsuc- cessful in relieving Choisi, which was besieged by the. duke of Burgundy. As Compeigne was next besieged, she generously threw herself into that town, and endea- voured to defend it. But her heavenly voices, which had so often counselled her in danger, and led her to victory, bad for some time sadly warned her that she would fall into the hands of the enemy, and all she had asked in return was, that she might die speedily, without being long a captive. On the afternoon of the 23rd of May, the day on which she had entered Compeigne, she made a sally at the head of 600 men to beat up the camp of the confederates ; and although they were routed three times by her bold attacks, they as often rallied, and drove back her little party. At last, her followers re- treated towards the town, while she took her post in the rear, to cover their retreat ; and as she was known by her dress and armour, and her white banner, the whole force of the Burgundians was directed against her, so that in a short time she was left alone. She still grasped her beloved standard, and wielded her sword, with which she beat off her assailants, and had already gained the city bridge, when the barriers were suddenly closed, so that she was shut out among the enemy. She then at- tempted to cut her way through them, and make for the tields ; but a strong soldier grasped her tunic, and dragged her from her horse, and a throng rushing in, she was 2G8 MILITARY HISTORY. instantly overpowered and secured. All was now wild jubilee in the camp of the besiegei-s, and among: the English party at Paris, by whom Te Deums were sung-, and bonfires kindled, as if the conquest of France had been sealed by the event. She was regarded as a witch forsaken of her familiar, and the desire of ven- geance as well as feelings of superstition made her ene- mies clamorous for her condemnation. Witchcraft in those ages was a crime for which there was no mercy, and after a long imprisonment, during the latter part of which she was heavily loaded with irons, as she had twice attempted to escape, she was brought to trial in January, 1431. Nothing could be more piteous than the condition of the forlorn enthusiast. Her clerical judges were in the English interest, and eager to condemn her; the French king whom she had seated on the throne, and his nobles whom she had raised from dastardly de- spair and led to victory, were willing to forget her ser- vices, and left her to her fate ; and she was fifteen times brought before the merciless inquisitors, who racked her innocence and inexperience with ensnaring ques- tions, that she might be led to criminate herself, and aftbrd a plea for their cruelty. But to the last she re- pelled their odious charges, and believed that God had raised her for the deliverance of her beloved country. She was sentenced to be buined alive on the 30th of May, and on the morning of that day she was led to the marketplace of Rouen, for execution. Her mind, ex- hausted by long confinement and suffering, underwent a momentary faintness at the sight of the dreadful ap- paratus, and she wept bitterly : but those duties of reli- gion, which she had never forgotten dtiring her heroic career, came to her aid, while the fervour of her devo- tion made the most obdurate of her enemies shed tears. She caused a cross to be held before her while the pile was kindled, and upon this she looked, calling upon the name of Jesus to the last. — Such was the end of Joan of Arc, the purest, the gentlest, and the best, of all those characters that have ever been engaged in the noblest of earthly undertakings — the deliverance of a country from bondage. A woman, she freed a land that above all others professes a chivalrous devotedness to women ; and yet, strange to tell ! her country has preserved the SUCCESSES OF THE FRENCH. 2G9 same apathy towards her memory that was manifested at her death, while the only monument which Frencli genius has erected to her, is a ribald poem designed to blast her with infamy. But her motives transcended those of mere earthly renown, and her reward was more substantial than that of eulogies and monuments. Although the duke of Bedford had exerted himself to the utmost in procuring the condemnation of Joan of Arc, yet the event brought him no nearer to the conquest of France ; the tide had now set against him so strongly, that it rolled on independently of the cause that first pro- duced the reflux. The siege of Compeigne was raised after it had continued six months, and several other places were besieged by the English in vain, while the French leaders reduced many towns and castles to the dominion of Charles. At length the death of the duchess of Bedford, who was sister to the duke of Bur- gundy, snapped asunder the strongest tie between these ill-assorted confedei-ates, and the latter was obviously waiting for a favourable opportunity to return to his legitimate sovereign ; while the people of England, being no longer regaled with victories, refused to furnish sup- plies for the prosecution of the war. These circumstances led to proposals of accommodation, but while the Eng- lish demanded too much, the French conceded too little. At length a solemn congress for the purpose was held at Arras, in 1431, and such was the importance attached by the whole of Europe to this meeting, that ambassadors from almost every court attended as mediators. The deputies of Charles proposed to cede the provinces of Normandy and Guienne to the king of England, to be held by homage to the French crown, provided Henry relinquished all title and claim to the throne of France, and resigned all his places which he held in that country ; but at the bare mention of this proposal, the English commissioners thought themselves insulted, and left Arreis in disgust. But the duke of Burgundy, who had now exacted full vengeance for his father's assassination, on seeing the pride of the English, resolved to form a sepa- rate peace for himself, which he was the more inclined to do, as every reasonable demand he could make would be conceded; and a solema treaty was, therefore, sworn between him and Charles, on the 6th of September. The hopelessness of the re-conquest of France after this re- 270 MILITARY HISTORY. conciliation was farther confirmed by the death of the duke of Bedford, who expired at Rouen, on the 14th of the same month, worn out by past toils and melancholy anticipations. Weary as England had now become of the unprofitable war, she would not yet relinquish her French possessions ■without a struggle, and after some delay the duke of Y'ork was sent into France, as successor to the duke of Bedford. But before his arrival the French took Meulan, Pontoise, and other places on the Seine ; Dieppe was surprised, and the province of Normandy was stirred up to revolt. But the most important acquisition of Charles was the city of Paris, which, in April 1436, opened its gates to L'l^le Adam, while the feeble English garrison that held it was forced to capitulate. The arrival of York, as Regent, with a reinforcement of 7 or 8,000 men, checked this career of success, and, chiefly owing to the exertions of the renowned Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury, several places of strength were recovered in France and Normandy. But the war had now lost its historical in- terest, having dwindled into a series of small aggressions and repulses, and while the English resisted chiefly through national pride and stubbornness, and to protract the period of their expulsion from the country, the French chiefs, relieved from their greatest danger, began to break into factions, as they had done before the Eng- lish invasion. It would be tedious therefore to enu- merate the marchings and counter-marchings, the cap- tures and recaptures, that followed each other in rapid succession : it is enough to state, that the English still maintained their national reputation for valour, while their French possessions were yearly converging within a narrower circle. In 1437, the duke of York was recalled, and his command given to the earl of Warwick; but the earl died in two years, and York was reappointed ; after which there was a pause to the warfare in consequence of plague and famine, that ravaged England and France simultaneously. When the war was resumed, the heroic old Talbot performed exploits that were worthy of the brightest days of Crecy and Azincourt. In 1440, he in- vested Harfleur, the first conquest of Henry V., and took it after a brave defence. In the following year Pontoise was invested by the French king, with an army of 12,000 men ; but the duke of York, at the head MARRIAGE OF HENRY VI. 271 of 8,000, advanced, upon which Charles fled without risking an action. In 1442, Charles raised the siege of Tartas, took several towns, suppressed a rebellion com- menced by the count d'Armagnac, and by the end of the year raised the siege of Dieppe, which had been blockaded by Talbot. Even yet the contending parties were not ripe for a lasting peace, although a meeting of the commissioners of France and England assembled at Tours for that purpose, and, therefore, nothing more than a truce was settled, which lasted from a. d. 1444 to A. D. 1450. During the course of this protracted war, the English council at home had been rent into two factions, one of which was headed by the duke of Gloucester, protector of the kingdom, and the other by the wealthy and am- bitious Beaufort, cardinal of Winchester, a natural sou of John of Gaunt. These two parties were more in- dustrious in traversing each other's measures than pro- secuting the war in France, and hence the inefficiency of those supplies, both of men and money, which were sent to the continent. Henry VI. also, as he grew to manhood, exhibited a character completely the reverse of that of his illustrious father, being so imbecile as to be scarcely removed one step from positive idiotcy. It was conceived, in this case, that his lack of energy might be supplied by a talented high-spirited queen, and the honour of furnishing the state with such a mistress was eagerly contested by both parties. The cardinal, however, prevailed as usual, and the bride selected for the unfortunate Henry was the able, haughty, and unscrupulous Margaret, daughter to Rene, count of Anjou, and titular king of Sicily, Naples, and Jerusalem. But the evil of such an uncongenial union of tempers was not the worst. Margaret was naturally devoted to the French interests, having been brought up at the court of her uncle, Charles ; and Rene, whose chief wealth consisted of high-sounding titles, instead of being able to bestow a dowry with his daughter, re- quired and obtained one from the marriage con- tractors. With a flourish of the pen they restored to him the territories of Anjou and Maine, which were the keys of Normandy, and thus they virtually abandoned their hold upon France, after so many ^ ictories and sa- crifices. The duke of Gloucester vehemently remon- 2T2 MILITARY HISTORY. strated, and the people at large clamoured against a French marriage ; but the inftuence of the cardinal was irresistible, and the union took place, at Southwich, in Hampshire, in April, 1445. After this followed the arrest and naurder of Humphrey, endearingly called by the people the * good duke of Gloucester,' who was assassi- nated by the contrivance of the queen, the cardinal, and the duke of Suffolk. The chief obstacle to an inglorious peace with France was now removed by the death of the protector, and a. d. 1448, Charles proceeded to take possession of Anjou and Alaiue, according to stipulation. But the English garri- sons were so indignant at the treaty, that several refused to evacuate their places of strength until they wei"e dis- possessed by force ; and about 2,500 of these ejected troops, under the command of Sir Francis Surienne, a soldier of fortune, finding that they could obtain no settlement iu Normandy, indemnified themselves by taking possession of the town of Fogeres, in Bretague, and plundering the surrounding country. The duke of Bretagne complained to his sovereign, the king of France, who demanded satisfaction of the duke of Somerset, the English com- mander, but he rated the damages at so enormous an amount, as showed that he only sought a pretext for quarrel ; and on Somerset rejecting the terms, Charles invaded Normandy in 1449, with fovir different armies. The English garrisons were small, and their fortresses in a state of disrepair ; and such was the consequent success of the French, that in less than four months they were masters of the greater part of Upper and Lower Normandy. Rouen, the capital of the province, was then besieged, and the townsmen compelled the English gar- rison, and its commander Somerset, to consent to a most dishonourable capitulation, in which not only Rouen, but several towns were surrendered, as the price of a safe retreat. In August, a. d. 1450, the English were driven out of every part of Normandy : afterwards the province of Aquitaine was overrun by the French in a similar manner ; and in August 1451, Bayonne fell into their hands, so that England had no longer a possession in France, except Calais, the conquest of Edward HI. 1 POPULARITY OF THE DIKE OF YORK. 273 CHAP. VIII. j From the commencement of the civil war between the [ Houses of York and Lancaster to the accession of Henry VII. As France had been reduced to the brink of ruin under an imbecile king and a factious nobility, the same causes were now to produce the same effects in England, and the atrocities of the rival parties of Ar- magnac and Burgundy, that deluged the former kingdom, were now to be paralleled in the latter, by the dreadful contentions of the houses of York and Lancaster. The commanding abilities of Henry IV. and the splen- ilid conquests of his heroic son, had endeared the family of Gaunt to the English nation, so that their usurpation was forgotten, and the son of the latter was regarded as a legitimate sovereign. But this national feeling was gradually cooled by the reverses on the continent, and in consequence of the shameful treaties that followed, and the inglorious expulsion in which they ended, it changed into rage and hatred. In addition to these cir- cumstances, the people were indignant at the assassina- tion of their favourite, the duke good Humphrey, and the arrogance with which the queen and her favourites ruled, after they had engrossed the whole authority of the state ; while the land was oppressed beneath a load of taxes that had been levied for the maintenance of wars which had terminated so unprofitably and disas- trously. No condition could be more unfavourable for a usurped authority, and those who were impatient under the national disasters naturally turned to the long-forgotten claims of the elder branch of the Plan- tagenets. These were now concentrated in the person of the able and popular duke of York, who was the lineal descendant of Lionel, duke of Clarence, the third son of Edward III. while Henry VI. only claimed the throne from John of Gaunt, who Wcis the fourth ; and besides his superior right, he was endeared to the people by the bravery and prudence he had shown, while he held the chief command in France, and afterwards in Ireland. The duke was also cautious, and before he N 2 274 MILITARY HISTORY. proceeded to an open attack on the crown, he resolved to sound the affections of the people towards his family ; for which purpose John Cade, one of his emissaries, assumed the name of Mortimer, pretending to be de- scended from the royal house. The people immediately flocked to the standard of this demagogue, so that he was enabled to encamp on Blackheath, on June the 1st, 1450, from whence he sent manifestoes to the king, repre- senting the grievances of the commons, and demanding redress ; and on being attacked at Seveuoaks, by an army of 15,000, commanded by Sir Humphrey Stafford, he defeated the royal troops, and slew their commander. After this Cade was allowed to enter London with his tumultuous forces, where for several days they behaved with great forbearance. But at last the rich shops were too tempting, and they began to plunder, upon which the citizens rose against them, and drove them from the city. On a royal pardon being afterwards proclaimed, the insurgents dispersed to their own homes ; and Cade, after skulking about Sussex, was discovered and slain in a garden by a Kentish gentleman. This experiment had fully answered the purpose, and the duke of York, who at the time was ably quelling the disturbances in Ireland, i-eturned from that country, and levied an army in Wales, among the adherents of the family of Mortimer, with which he marched towards London, professing that his only purpose in arming was to procure the redress of grievances, and bring the duke of Somerset to justice as a traitor. An army was raised by the queen and her minion Somerset to oppose him, and the rival forces encamped over-against each other on Blackheath. On a promise being given that Somerset should be confined, the duke of York dismissed his army, and repaired frankly to the royal tent ; but here he was confounded to find his enemy at large, and standing in the king's presence. York, however, unawed by this circumstance, and that of his own helplessness, im- peached the duke of high treason, who retorted with equal bitterness, but greater effect, for the trepanned prince had no sooner left the tent than he was arrested, and hurried off to London, to be tried for treason. But a report having started up that the young earl of March, York's eldest son, was proceeding to London at the head of an army to rescue his father, the dismayed cour- BATTLE OF ST. ALBAN'S. 2?5 tiers were obliged to relinquish their prey. But before they dismissed him, they led him in solemn procession to St. Paul's, and there compelled him to swear upon the cross never to take up arms against the king ; after which he was allowed to depart to his castle of Wig- more in Herefordshire, where he waited the opportunity of revenge. And this was not long in coming. The king fell into such a state of mental imbecility as totally unfitted him for even the show of business, upon which the duke of York, accompanied by the earls of Salisbury and War- wick, repaired to London, where his authority became so paramount that, on the 3rd of April, 1454, he was ap- pointed protector of the kingdom, and afterwards in- vested with the government of Calais for seven years. Henry, however, recovered from his sickness as if he had awoke from a dream, and at the queen's instigation displaced York, both from the protectorship and his government of Calais ; upon which the indig- nant duke retired to Wales, and began to muster his retainers. Supported by several powerful nobles, and about 3000 armed followers, he marched towards Lon- don. But the nobles on the side of Henry had been equally alert : they assembled a force of about 2000 men, and advanced to St. Alban's; and such was their hatred of the duke of York, and eagerness for battle, that they concealed from Henry those conciliatory letters which the duke had sent, proposing terms of accommoda- tion. The armies indeed on both sides were small, be- ing chiefly composed of the high-bom squires of knights and nobles ; but the conflict of such parties could not fail to involve the whole nation in the struggle. The battle commenced on the 22d of May, by a desperate at- tempt of the Yorkists to dislodge their rivals from the town of St. Alban's. They attacked it in three places ; but the Lancasterians, headed by lord Clifford, stood so resolutely on their defence, as to baflSe every assault. At last the earl of Warwick moved to the garden side of the town, and forced his way into HolyWell-street, while his followers shouted his war-cry so lustily that their ene- mies gave back in alarm. The whole throng of Yorkists then rushed into the town, and a desperate hand-to- hand encounter took place in the streets between men of high lineage, who were too proud to yield, and whose 276 MILITARY HISTORY. love of combat was whetted by personal and party ran- cour. At length the followers of Henry were obliged to give way ; his bravest sxipporters, the duke of Somerset, the earls of Stafford and Northumberland, lord Clifford, and several others, were killed, and the duke of Buck- ingham, the earl of Dorset, and lord Sudley, were wounded. The king himself was also wounded and made prisoner, but was treated by the victor with the greatest courtesy. The duke of York conducted his royal captive to London, and on a parliament being assembled, he was appointed protector of the kingdom, until prince Edward, the son of Henry, should be of age. His friend Warwick was made governor of Calais, and lord Bour- chier, treasurer of England. Hitherto the duke of York had made no direct attempt upon the crown ; and had he been allowed to remain quietly in the protectorate, the claims of his family might have slept till another generation. But the vio- lence of the queen soon drove him from his moderation, and obliged him to assert his rights in self-defence. He had only held his ofhce three mouths, when Mar- garet and her party regained their sway over the facile • mind of Henry, and at their instigation the duke was abruptly dismissed from the protectorship. He indig- nantly retired into Yorkshire with his friends Salisbury and Warwick, to meditate plans of vengeance ; but the queen, who was apprehensive of their frequent meetings, endeavoured to entrap them, by carrying the king to Coventry, and inviting these nobles to meet him. They came without suspicion ; but on receiving a hint of their danger, they fled from the town, Yoik and Salisbury taking refuge in their strong castles, while Warwick es- caped to his government of Calais. It was now the turn of France to triumph over the court dissensions of Eng- land, and two descents were accordingly made upon the English coast, which, although trivial in themselves, were of consequence, as they showed the extent of the national weakness and degradation. The hearts of the wise and the good iia England now ached for peace, and with the archbishop of Canterbury at their head, they laboured earnestly with both parties to abandon their feud. All the principal leaders therefore were summoned by the king's letters to repair to London, in the begin- ning of A. D. 1458, for the purpose of being reconciled to I BATTLE OF BLORE-HEATH. 277 each other, and they came at the suramons ; but it was with such multitudes of armed retaiaers, as showed that peace and unity were little in their thoug^hts. Then suc- ceeded a pageant of reconciliation, in which the rival nobles walked hand in hand iu procession to St. Paul's, with the king at their head — and not long afterwards there followed an affray between the king's servants and those of Warwick, in which the earl very narrowly escaped being killed. The earl believing that this was a design laid by the queen for his assassination, departed to Calais ; while the duke of York, finding himself no longer safe from her malignity, resolved to secure his own safety by the assertion of his royal claims, and the destruction of his antagonists. 14-59 — War being now inevitable, the duke, Salisbury, and Warwick, agreed to muster their forces, and unite thera at Kenilworth for a combined attack upon the king's party. But in this they were anticipated by their rivals, who marched against the earl of Salisbury be- fore the junction could be effected. The two armies met at Blore-heath, on the 23rd of September. The royalists mustered 10,000 soldiers, while the earl of Salisbury had only 5000. But he resolved to counterbalance his defi- ciency by stratagem, and as the armies were encamped on the opposite banks of a narrow but deep and rapid ri- vulet, he ordered his soldiers to shoot their arrows across the stream and then retire as if in disorder. The Lan- casterians thinking that their enemies had taken to flight, immediately plunged into the stream, and reached the opposite bank, when Salisbury, who watched their movements, and saw that enough had crossed for his purpose, suddenly wheeled about, attacked them with great fury, and routed them before their companions could come to their aid. The other half of the Lancas- terian army was then attacked and discomfited with ease, after which the victorious Salisbury joined his forces to those of the duke of York at Ludeford, near Ludlow, who was also reinforced by the earl of Warwick from Calais. But the royal army, still eager for the en- counter, advanced to Ludeford by forced marches, and on the I3th of October encamped opposite the Yorkists, so that a battle was anticipated on the following morn- ing. Unfortunately, however, for the duke of York, he had, up to the present period, concealed his designs upou 278 MILITARY HISTORY. the crown, so that they were ouly known to a few of his chosen friends, while in all his manifestoes he had pro- fessed the utmost duty to Henry, and only demanded a reform of abuses. On the present occasion, the secret was communicated to Sir Andrew Trollop, who was faithfully attached to the house of Lancaster, upon which this skilful commander deserted with all his veteran forces to the king. The duke of York was confounded by an event that turned against him the best part of his army, and not knowing whom to trust, he and the chiefs of his party tied from the field. The fugitive lords were proclaimed traitors, and their estates were confiscated, while the queen and her party triumphed in the hope that the adverse cause was annihilated. But their tri- umph was of short duration. Those Yorkists who had fled to Calais returned with 1500 followers ; and their little army swelled so rapidly as they marched, that at last they entered London at the head of 40,000 men. 14G0 — The queen and her adherents, who had gathered an army at Coventry, now marched towards London, to give battle to the returned insurgents ; but instead of wait- ing her arrival, the earl of Warwick departed from the metropolis, to encounter her, at the head of 25,000 men. On the 10th of July, the two armies met near North- ampton. The queen's army was strongly fortified with high banks and deep ditches, on the new fields between Harryngton and Sandyford, and was attacked by the Yorkists marshalled in three divisions. The height and elope of the ramparts at first repelled them, but those to whom their defence was intrusted, instead of offering resistance, extended their hands, and drew up the as- sailants. A furious conflict for two hours followed, iu which the king's party were defeated ; and whole troops were driven headlong into the stream below, where they were drowned. Henry was found by the conquerors sitting in his tent, and was courteously led away. Mar- garet, and her little boy the prince of Wales, fled from the town, in which they were nearly taken prisoners ; they were attacked and plundered on their way by rob- bers, and at last they succeeded in reaching Scotland. The cause of York was now so triumphant, that he might at once have stepped into the throne, which was vir- tually vacant — but the greatness of his claims and the hazard of the attempt seem to have confounded him. BATTLE OF WAKEFIELD. 279 Having returned from Ireland, to which he had fled af- ter the desertion of his partisans at Ludlow, he repaired to the House of Peers ; and standing under the royal ca- nopy, he laid his right band on tlie cushion, expecting that the House would invite him to seat himself upon the throne. But he should have first sat down, and the in- vitation would have followed. As it was, the lords were not hound to show greater decision than himself, and they maintained a dead silence ; and when afterwards the archbishop of Canterbury rose, and asked York if he would accompany him to wait upon the king, the duke answered that he knew no person to whom he owed such a mark of respect, and immediately quitted the house in great confusion. Having thus committed him- self, he presented to the chancellor, in writing, his claim to the crown, on account of his descent from Lionel, duke of Clarence, the elder brother of the duke of Lan- caster ; and after several days of parliamentary debate upon the question, it was settled that Henry should en- joy the crown during life, and that at his death it should descend to the duke of York, or his heir. In the mean time, Margaret of Anjou bad not been idle in Scotland, where she allured several bold warriors to her standard ; and being joined by the dukes of Somerset and Exeter, she marched into England, where she was reinforced by the earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland, and the hardy soldiers of the northern counties, who swelled her small force to 20,000 men. As for the duke of York, he had divided his army, and with only 6000 men he took post in his castle at Sendal. The duke of Somerset advanced at the head of 18,000 soldiers, to besiege him, but York, instead of sheltering his small force within the ramparts, imprudently marched out to give battle. He took his station near the city of Wake- field ; and still observant of the extravagancies of chi- valry, be challenged the queen's army to appoint a day for the conflict. The day was fixed ; but the Lancaste- rians perceiving that the Yorkists were careless in their discipline, resolved to make a sudden attack, without waiting for the stipulated period. On the 30th of De- cember, 1460, they came on in three divisions, two of which were directed to out-flank the Yorkists as soon as the battle joined. The issue of such a conflict could not be long doubtful, and after an unavailing resistance of half an hour, the Yorkists were broken 280 MILITARY HISTORY. and routed with the loss of nearly half their number, while the duke himself was taken prisoner. And now followed some of those hateful atrocities which can only be exhibited in civil war. The eari of Rutland, son to the duke of York, a boy of only twelve years old, and remarkable for personal beauty, was flying from the field to the town, accompanied by his tutor, when lord Clifford pursued and overtook him on the bridge. He asked to whom the boy belonged, and on understand- ing that he was one of the sons of the duke, the savage shouted in a fury, ' Thy father slew mine, and so will I thee, and all thy kin ;' and immediately stabbed him to the heart with his dagger. As for York, his insulting captors placed him upon a mole-hill to ridicule his claims to the throne, and wove a crown of grass, which they placed with mock ceremony upon his head, bending their knees, and crying ' Hail, king without a kingdom !' They then struck off his head, stuck it upon a pole, and presented it to the queen as an acceptable offering. As her army consisted of borderers from both sides of the Tweed, who had been allured to her standard by a pro- i»ise of the plunder of the country beyond the Trent, they now exercised their licence to the full, so that mo- nasteries, churches, and private dwellings, were plun- dered or destroyed without mercy. She now marched towards London, to rescue her husband from the keeping ot Warwick ; but that chief, instead of waiting her ar- rival, advanced to St. Alban's to anticipate her purpose, with Henry in his company. The queen's borderers made a furious assault, but were driven from the great cross of the city by Warwick's archers ; they rallied, however, and fought their way into St. Peter's-street, while other portions of the two ai-mies maintained a desperate and equal conflict upon the heath, at the north end of St. Al- ban's. But the treachery or cowardice of lord Lovelace, the commander of the Kentish men, who suddenly fled while the battle was still in suspense, made the whole army of Warwick give way, and the queen was once more victorious. Henry, who during the engagement looked coolly on, was found by the queen's party after the battle, standing quietly among the slain, without guard or attendant, and was immediately led to his wife and son. The queen's military banditti again demanded and obtained their commission of spoil and havoc, and exercised it so unmercifully, and with so little discrimi- BATTLE OF TOW TON. 281 nation between friend and enemy, that the royal cause was injured beyond recovery. 1461- — During the course of these events, the cause of the Yorkists was succeeding prosperously in Wales, under Edward, earl of March, the eldest son of the duke of York. Although this prince was not fully nineteen years old at the period of his father's death, he had already distinguished himself by great military talents, and as soon as he heard of that melancholy event, he marched to Shrewsbury at the head of 20,000 men, to give battle to the queen. There he learned that a mixed force of Welsh and Irish, under the command of Jasper, earl of Pembroke, Owen Tudor, and the earl of Wilts, were in pursuit of him, upon which he turned back and encountered them at Mor- timer's Cross, near Hereford, ou the 1st of February, and obtained a complete victory. The earls escaped from the field, but 3,800 of their followers were killed, and Owen Tudor, (grandfather of Henry YII.) with several knights and gentlemen who were taken pri- soners, was beheaded after the battle, — a custom which was now prevalent with both parties. Edward now continued his march to London, which he reached eight days after the disaster of his friends at St. Alban's. His bravery, his youth, and remarkable personal beauty, stirred up the whole metropolis in his favour; his claims to the throne were canvassed and acknowledged, while the behaviour of the queen's followers had made the cause of Henry obnoxious to all who loved peace and regularity. The universal exclamation, therefore, was, that Edward should be king, and as he had more de- cision than his father, he boldly assumed the dangerous crown and sceptre, on the 4th of March, under the title of Edward IV. The young king was not disposed to slumber upon his title, as the queen was still in the field, at the head of the largest army which had been raised since the com- mencement of the civil war. Without waiting, there- fore, for the ceremony of a coronation, he sent the earl of Warwick forward with the first division of his amiy on the 8th of March, and followed with the rest of his forces on the 12th. The two armies met at Towton : that of Edward numbered 48,660 men, while tliat of Henry amouuted to 60,000, commanded by the duke of 282 MILITARY HISTORY. Somerset, the earl of Northumberland, lord Clifford, and Sir Andrew Trollop. Edward before the battle commanded his soldiers to take no prisoners, and give no quarter; and on the mcr-jing of March 28, the action commenced in the midst of a snow-storm that drifted in the faces of the Lancasterians. Lord Fal- conbridge, who commenced the onset on the part of Edward, promptly availed himself of this circum- stance : he ordered his soldiers to discharge their lightest flight-arrows, and then fall back ; upon which their blinded antagonists supposing that the Yorkists were within reach, began to empty their quivers at a miscalculated distance, so that every arrow fell short of the proper mark. As soon as they had thus disarmed themselves, their opponents came forward, and made wild havoc among their ranks, shooting not only their own shafts, but those they had gathered from the field ; upon which Northumberland and Trollop impatiently advanced with the main body of the Lancasterians to close combat. A fearful scene of struggle and butchery ensued between two such numerous armies, equally brave, and inspired by the utmost of personal rancour, and several hours elapsed without bringing any advan- tage to either side. At last the duke of Norfolk arrived with a reinforcement to the Yorkists, and the other party gave way, and fled. In this sanguinary engage- ment no quarter was given, and nearly 40,000 persons lay dead on the field, among whom were the principal nobles who adhered to the cause of Henry. The king, queen, and prince, who had been left at York, fled to Scotland as soon as they heard of the discomfiture at Towton. After the battle, Edward, with whom mercy was not a cardinal virtue, caused the earls of Wiltshire and Devon, and several noble gentlemen, to be beheaded ; and after repressing the distui-bances of the northern counties, he entered London in triumph, on the 26th of June, and had the ceremony of his coronation performed on the 29th. Henry was consequently pronounced a usurper, and his principal adherents were attainted. Edward farther confirmed his power by liberally re- warding his friends, punishing his enemies, and forming alliances with France and Scotland, so that the indefa- tigable Margaret, after applying at the courts of both countries, was unable to procure effective aid. At last, SUCCESSES OF THE YORKISTS. 283 after much exertion, she contrived to muster, in 14G4, a considerable army, composed of her English ad- herents, and several troops of French and Scottish soldiers, whom she attracted with promises of plunder; and with these she broke into Northumberland about the middle of April, and was at first successful, taking several castles, as well as receiving considerable rein- forcements. But the energies of Edward soon triumphed over this momentary reaction. Lord Montague, brother to the earl of Warwick, was immediately sent with a part of the forces against the queen's army, a large division of which, under lord Huugerford, he attacked and routed at Hedgley Moor. He then pressed forward, and gave battle to the main army, which was collected at Hexham. Here he was again victorious, and Henry, who was present at the battle, made his escape from the carnage with great difficulty, and fled into Lancashire, where he was concealed for a time by his partisans. As for the queen, she escaped once more from the kingdom, with her young son Edward, and sought refuge at the humble court of her father Rene, duke of Anjou. Nothing could equal the misery of the fugitive Lancasterian nobles after this last defeat. They wandered in foreign countries, poverty-stricken and helpless, and one of them, the princely duke of Exeter, was seen in a town on the continent, barefoot and bare-legged, begging his bread from door to door. At last the duke of Burgundy took, compassion upon the exiles, and allowed them a pittance for their support. And the fate of their sovereign, for whom they endured so much, was scarcely more en- viable. Henry was at last betrayed (a. d. 1465), by a monk, and taken prisoner as he sat at dinner. On being brought to London, he was met at Islington by the earl of Warwick, w^ho bound his legs to his stiiTups with leather straps, and paraded him through the streets, causing him to ride three times round the pillory, after which he was imprisoned in the Tower, where he re- mained five years. Edward, who had shed such torrents of blood on the field and the scaflbld, would have sealed his doom without mercy ; but Henry was an enemy whom none could fear, while his temper was so amiable, that all parties would have cried out against such a needless atrocity. Richard Nevile, earl of Warwick, who had hitherto 2S4 MILITARY HISTORY, been the great chaiupiou of the house of York, was one of the most remarkable characters of that age. He was ambitious, brave, and skilful in war ; and the popularity which he enjoyed in England was such as to ensure success to whatever cause he espoused. This popularity, however, he seems to have owed as much to his extraor- dinary hospitality as to his personal qualities ; for 30,000 persons were regularly maintained in his numerous castles, while every London tavern was full of his meat ; and any man might walk into his kitchen at pleasure, and take away as much beef or mutton as he could carry upon his dagger. Edward, when he was esta- blished upon the throne, evinced his gratitude to the powerful earl by heaping upon him new estates and dignities, and making the whole family of the Neviles share in the royal bounty. Thus John, lord Montague, the second brother of the earl, was endowed with the large estates of the earl of Northumberland, while George, the youngest of the family, was made arch- bishop of York, and chancellor of the kingdom. But a worm was already at the root of this palmy prosperity, and the tree that overshadowed while it protected the throne, was soon to wither and pass away. Edward, who was young and amorous, fell in love with and married Eliza- beth VVoodville, widow of Sir John Grey, in May, 14C3 ; and as the new queen had numerous relatives, it was deemed necessary by their royal kinsman that they should assume a high place at court. Landless or un- titled men, therefore, who rejoiced in the names of Grey and Woodville, had dignities and estates heaped upon them, or were married to the rich wards of the crown ; and thus a new nobility stai-ted up in England, to the great resentment, as well as surprise, of the whole nation. It was natural that the proud and ancient blood of the Neviles should be indignant at this intrusion, more especially as it bore hard upon the ascendancy they had acquired as their well-earned meed, and removed the king himself beyond the sphere of their influence. It may be, also, that Warwick was the more indignant at the king's marriage with the widow of an humble knight, as he might think that his own daughter would have been a more eligible choice. At all events, he allied this daughter to the throne, by marrying her to George, duke of Clarence, second brother to the king ; and as REBELLION OF WARWICK. 285 Edward expressed high resentment at this union, the breach between him and his powerful subject was widened, while Clarence himself was also converted into a malcontent. Edward, after this, proceeded to show his distrust of the Neviles, by employing the queen's kindred iu suppressing a popular commotion, and by resuming several of the liberal grants which he had bestowed upon the overgrown Nevile family — circumstances which the earl of Warwick was not likely to contemplate with- out alarm and resentment. This part of English history is obscure and contradictory that relates to the motives of the earl of Warwick's rebellion against the sovereign he had set up ; bat the foregoing causes were of them- selves sufficient, at such a period, to ripen into a civil war. The earl and his son-in-law Clarence secretly fomented a rebellion against the king in 1-170, but it exploded prematurely, and the insurgents were defeated, upon which these nobles fled to Calais, of which town War- wick was governor, and afterwards to the court of France. Louis XL who was at this time king, had long been apprehensive of an English invasion headed by the warlike Edward IV. ; and to counteract it, he resohed to reconcile the earl and queen Margaret, who at this time was also in France, against their common enemy. It was with difficulty that the high-spirited queen could be prevailed upon even to li.sten to such a proposal, for it was chiefly through Warwick that she had become an exile, and her husband a prisoner. But the nece.ssity of her aflTairs conquered her pride, and she gave a reluc- tant assent to the measure, which was confirmed by a contract of marriage between her son Edward and War- v,ick's second daughter Ann. Upon this alliance Wai*- wick, who had previously designed the throne of Eng- land for Clarence, changed his purposes in behalf of the house of Lancaster, and shifted the succession to his second son in-law. That he could easily dethrone king Edward, he never for a moment doubted ; he knew his popularity and power in England, and the dislike of the ancient nobility against the newly created courtiers. These consultations did not escape the observation of the duke of Bursrundy, who sent to his brother-in-law the king of England a full account of Warwick's intended invasion, and the very port at which he would land. But the fearless Edward, who had no idea of loving war 286 MILITARY HISTORY. for its own sake, was now immersed in the pleasures of lore and revelry ; and he only admonished the duke in reply, to keep a sharp look out at sea, to intercept his enemy's retreat, after he should have heaten him on land. He evinced still greater rashness in depending upon Montague, and the adherents of the Neviles, ■whom he continued in their offices, and entrusted with military commissions. Warwick landed with a small force at Dartmouth, on the 13th of September, and his arrival was a signal to the discontented, who soon swelled his force to a numerous army. Edward, who was at Nottingham, ordered the marquis of Montague, in whom he so greatly confided, to bring up his forces to meet the invaders, and was seated with a few friends at dinner in a fortified house, while his troops were quar- tered in the neighbouring villages, when all at once he was startled with acclamations of ' God bless king Henry !' The cry was raised by the soldiers of Montague, who was pressing forward with headlong speed to take Ed- ward pi'isoner. The king sprang upon his horse, and gal- loped off, leaving his followers to shift for themselves, and reached Lynn with a few attendants, where he set sail, without having so much money as to pay for his passage. — Siich was a revolution that resembled more the sudden shifting of a pageant, than the reality of a great national event. The course of AVarwick was now an unresisted march : he entered London on the 5th of October; and on the day after, he freed king Henry from the Tower, paraded him in triumph through the streets, and proclaimed him the lawful king. The whole royal power however was engrossed by the earl of War- wick and the duke of Clarence, who turned out the ad- herents of Edward from office, and filled every place with their own supporters. Warwick himself was ad- miral of England ; Clarence was made lieutenant of Ireland, beside receiving a grant of all the estates of the family of York ; Montague was warden of the marches ; and the crown was to devolve upon Edward, prince of Wales, and his offspring, or, failing therein, upon the duke of Clarence and his issue. 3471. — In the mean time the duke of Burgundy, to whose dominions Edward fled for refuge, was sorely disquieted at the arrival of his royal brother-in-law. To reject so near a kinsman under such distressful circumstances would EDWARD IV. RETURNS TO ENGLAND. 287 have appeared infamous in the eyes of the world, while to give him aid would provoke the united vengeance of France and England. He adopted a middle course, and while he openly refused an interview with the fugitive king, he privately assisted him with a few ships, and a small sum of money. Edward, who was as brave and prompt in decision when danger was at hand, as he was indolent in peace, fearlessly set sail with 2000 men to recover his lost kingdom, and arrived at Ravenspur on the 14th of March. All men were astonished at the tementy of the attempt, more especially as few repaired at first to his standard ; but Edward had calculated his resources, and he knew upon whom he could depend. As he marched through those parts of the country that were most opposed to his claims, he pretended that he sought nothing more than his patrimonial dukedom ; he even caused his followers to shout for king Henry wherever they came ; and the city of York, deceived by this show of moderation, received him within its gates. As he continued to march southward, several of his old partisans flocked to his standard, so that he was soon at the head of a considerable army, upon which he threw off the mask, and resumed the title of king. The earls of Warwick and Oxford were now at the head of an army, with which they marched from the south against Edward, and had they been joined as they expected by the duke of Clarence with his force, they would have been strong enough to have crushed the invasion by a .single onset. But Clarence had been tampered with be- fore the landing of the king ; and it was found that he was not only discontented at being set aside in the suc- cession in favour of prince Edward, but unwilling to see his father's house supplanted for the sake of that of Lan- caster. He therefore purposely delayed his arrival, so that the two earls were not in sufficient force to give battle without him. At length he reached Coventry, where the two parties confronted each other ; and here he embraced the opportunity of declaring himself, by marching over to his brother's camp, with all his forces, Edward was thus enabled to proceed triumphantly to London, where his winning appearance and popular manners made the citizens forget the flesh-pots of the earl of Warwick, so that Henry was removed with- out ceremony from the throne to his old lodgings in the 288 MILITARY HISTORY. Tower. Warwick being joined in the mean time bv his brother the marquis of Montau:ue, took his station at Barnet, to decide the contest by a battle, and Edward was not slow to meet him. The earl's army considerably outnumbered the other, but Edward had never yet fought a battle which he did not win. It was ou the 14th of April, that the decisive en- eragement of Barnet was fouirht. The gloom of the whole night had been illuminated by Warwick's artil- lery, that cannonaded the spot on which Edward's left •wing was supposed to be posted ; but as its position had been previously altered by a fortunate mistake, the shot did no harm. Between four and five in the morning, both armies prepared for battle, although they were shrouded in a heavy mist that almost wholly concealed each other's military cognizances. A few shots only were discharged on each side before they rushed impatiently to close combat ; and here the mistake which had been so fortunate for Edward during the night, had almost lost him the battle. His left wing, from the post it occupied, was completely outnumbered and outflanked by the earl of Oxford, who attacked, broke it, and chased it off the field. This event however remained unknown on either side, and Edward who led the centre made a desperate attack on that of Warwick, and bore it backward by the violence of his onset, while Gloucester, who com- manded the right wing, outflanked the left of the Lan- casterians, where Warwick himself was posted. The earl's situation became more and more desperate ; defeat was inevitable, unless the victorious Oxford returned in time to his assistance. And Oxford at last returned, but it was only to accelerate the evil. The cognizance of Ed- ward's party was a sun, and that of the other a star with rays ; but in the heavy mist these emblems were so equivocal, that Oxford's followers on coming up to aid their friends were mistaken for Yorkists, and received with a shower of arrows, upon which they cried out * treachery,' and fled from the field. Warwick, who fought on foot, perceiving that all was on the brink of ruin, rushed desperately among the enemy, either to re- trieve the day or find a soldier's death, and fell covered with wounds; his brother Montague, who made in to his rescue, also perished ; and 7000 Lancasterians lay dead on the field, while the whole amount of their enemies BATTLE OF TEVv'KESBURY. 289 had not exceeded 9000 men. After this victory, Edward returned to London, where those who had hitherto kept aloof from his doubtful fortunes embraced his cause with alacrity. An enemy as formidable as even the king-making Warwick still remained, in Margaret of Anjou, to dis- pute the throne of England with Edward. That proud and resentful, but heroic and high-minded woman, had been detained during the winter on the continent; and when she embarked with her son prince Edward, she was tossed about for three weeks in the Channel by con- trary winds, so that she did not land till the evening of the day on which the battle of Barnet was fought. Un- aware of this melancholy reverse, she imagined that nothing farther remained for her than to march to Lon- don, and ascend the throne ; but when she heard of the defeat of her partisans, and the death of Warwick, her wonted courage forsook, her, and she gave way for a few moments to a passion of tears. She soon, however, took, courage, on being persuaded by her friends that her cause, instead of being weakened, had only become stronger by the death of the overbearing and seltish king-maker, as those adherents of Lancaster would gladly join her who were unwilling to co-operate with Warwick. The sound- ness cf their advice was manifested in the fact, that in a few days she was at the head of 40,000 men. But Ed- ward, who was terrible by his activity and decision, was upon her track, and anxious for an engagement, so that her leaders, who dreaded the issue, endeavoured to procrastinate the war until they had become still stronger. They therefore proposed a march into Wales and Cheshire, to gain reinforcements of archers; but Ed- ward followed and overtook them at Tewkesbury, where they were encamped, on the banks of the Severn. They were strongly pasted with the town in their rear, while their front and flanks were defended by muddy lanes, ditches, and hedges, as well as by hills and valleys. Ed- ward, after carefully surveying their position, advanced to the attack on the morning of the 4th of May. His brother Gloucester began the battle, but was soon so impeded among the obstacles of the ground, that he could not break through thern to join in close encounter ; he there- fore ordered heavy discharges of cannon and archery to commence, in order to provoke the Lancasterians from O 290 MILITARY HISTORY. their defeuces. This plan was successful. The duke of Somerset, who commanded the queen's forces, at last rushed out, and attacked the centre of the Yorkists with such violence, that he drove it backwards to the foot of a neighbouring hill ; he then charged and staggered the duke of Gloucester's division, and would have beaten it, in which case his victory was certain, but for an ambush which Edward had placed in a wood that the Lan- casteriaiis neglected to occupy. This reserve sallied out, and attacked Somerset in flank so opportunely, that Edward had time to rally and return to the charge. The Lancasterians were now pressed in turn with such unexpected vigour, that they were driven back pell-mell into their entrenchments, where they were followed by their pursuers ; and Somerset, grown almost frantic at this reverse, turned upon lord Wenlock, the commander of the centre division, who had remained inactive during the conflict, and dashed out his brains with his battle- axe. The victorious Yorkists pursued their success so closely, that their opponents were broken and scattered in all directions; and as no quarter was given, the run- aways were massacred in multitudes. The fate of prince Edward, now only seventeen years old, set the seal upon this fearful scene of carnage. Being taken prisonei', he was brought after the battle into the tent of the victor, who tauntingly asked him, why he had dared to come into England in hostile fashion ? ' I came,' replied the gal- lant boy, ' to recover my father's kingdom, and to punish his enemies.' Edward, at this magnanimous answer, struck the prince on the face with his gauntlet, and the royal attendants taking this as a signal of execution, rushed upon him with their daggers, and stabbed him to the heart. As for the unfortunate Margaret, who had retired into a religious house before the battle com- menced, she was taken from that sanctuary and com- mitted to the Tower. — The battle of Tewkesbury was the twelfth that had taken place between the rival houses of York and Lancaster ; and in these engagements, or upon the scaflold, sixty princes of the royal family, and half of the nobility and gentry of England, besides 100,000 of the commons, had fallen. And all this blood- shed had accomplished nothing more than a change of the sceptre from Henry YI. to Edward IV.— from an amiable but imbecile sovereign, to an able, but EDWARD IV. IxNVADES FRANCE. 291 profligrate and saimuinary tyrant. National evils were still unmitigated, and national abuses unredressed. Every man found himself in the same situation as forraerl}', except that he had the death of some dear friend or kinsman to deplore. Edward had now obtained an alarming character for invincibility, as he bad fought nine pitched battles, in every one of which he had been successful. When he ■was, therefore, settled upon tb.e throne of England with- out a rival, it was thought that he would commence some splendid career of foreign conquest, and men anxiously wondered to what quarter his military enter- prise would next direct him. France was selected by Edward as the victim — a selecti'^n which was dictated by a very obvious policy, for the love which the English bore to the house of Lancaster was based upon the con- quest of that kingdom by Henry V. But Edward, al- though perhaps as brave and skilful, lacked all the higher qualities of the hero of Azincourt, and Louis XL was a very different sovereign from Charles VL As the reconquest of France was always a popular argument in En>:land, Edward was soon at the head of a more gal- lant army than had ever yet crossed the Channel. The flower of the English nobility and knighthood attended him to the number of 1500 persons, iu complete armour, each having a retinue of several armed horsemen ; 1.5,000 aichers on horseback, and a great force of in- fantry and artillery, composed the body of his army ; while his brother-in-law, Charles the Bold, duke of Burgundy, whose power and dominions were at least equal to those of the French king, was to join him on landing with all his forces. Thus the destruction of France .seemed to be inevitable, and minstrels and glee- singers had strung their harps to celebrate greater ex- ploits than had yet been achieved by Englishmen, when the very commencement of the campaign made their tongues cleave to the roof of their mouths. Edward passed over to Calais in June 1475 ; but he of Burgundy, instead of being ready according to appointment, had entangled himself in a war with the Germans, from whom he received nothing but defeats ; and when at last he repaired to the English camp, it was with a small train of well-beaten soldiers, rather than a powerful army. Edward, however, sent a thundering detiance to 292 MILITARY HISTORY. Louis, commauding hira either to come forth and fi^rht for his crown, or resign it ; but this most astute of monarchs, who laughed at chivalry as a freak of fools or madmen, instead of starting to arms at the message, overwhelmed the astonished herald with soft words and kingly presents. He even prevailed upon this officer, whose function was to threaten and defy, to labour in bringing about a peace between the two countries, and the purchased herald was transformed into a gentle mediator. But, when Louis followed the application by privily showering gold into the craving pockets of the already half-beggared English nobles, a wonderful change in their belligerent propensities ensued, so that they now became eloquent advocates for the propriety of establish- ing a league of Christian amity with the moderate and gentle Louis. As for the Entilish common soldiers, they, too, were not neglected, the French king sending to their camp, which was in the neighbourhood of Amiens, 300 cart-loads of wine ; and of this they made such use, that they reeled about fiora morning to night in a state of drunken jollity. Louis, however, was very anxious to remove such dangerous neighbours, and therefore he carried on the negotiation so promptly, that on the 29th of August a truce for seven years was concluded, the terms of which were — that he should pay to Edward 75,000 crowns within fifteen days — that he should pay him 50,010 crowns a year during their joint lives — that the dauphin of France should marry the princess Eliza- beth of England— and that Edward should evacuate France as soon as the 75,000 crowns had been paid. In addition to all this, Louis agreed to pay 50,000 crowns for the ransom of Margaret of Anjou. Besides these various disbursementj?, he bound the principal English lords to his service, not only by liberal gifts in money and plate, but by secret pensions, which he settled upon them to the amount of lfi,000 crowns a year. Louis might well laugh, as he often did among his confidants, during the progress of the negotiation, at the manner in which he outwitted the bull-headed islanders and their luxurious sovereign. His only aim was now to rid France of their presence, and therefore he paid the crowns within the stipulated time; and Edward arrived in England, with his whole army, on the 2Sth of September, amidst the amazement of all his brother CLOUCESTERS INTRIGUES. 2<)3 kings of Europe, wlio could not comprehend by what mysterious jug-y,lery the French sovereign had annihi- lated such a formidable danger. After this period, the history of Edward IV. may be dismissed in a few words. As no warrior had ever been more successful in battle, so no warrior was ever more eager to doff his harness when the hour of exertion was past ; and therefore, when he returned from his inglorious expedition, he plunged into every species of dissipation, by which his health was gradually undermined, and that boasted beauty in which he excelled all his contemporaries was exchanged for bloatedness and obesity. The quar- rels also between his brothers and the family of his queen jarred amidst his hours of intemperance ; and after a series of dark manoeuvres, which it is impossible fully to comprehend, he was persuaded to sign the death-warrant of his brother Clarence, who was privately executed in the Tower, a.d. 1478. Edward died at West- minster, not through disease, but exhausted by a course of profligacy, on the 9ih of April, 1483, in the forty-first year of his age, and twenty-third of his reign. On the death of Edward IV., his son, prince Edward, was proclaimed king; and, as the young sovereign was only thirteen years old, a fierce conflict commenced be- tween the duke of Gloucester, aided by the ancient nobility, on the one side, and the queen and her kindred on the other, about the management of aflTairs during the minority. But the Woodviles, the Greys, and their adherents, being no longer upheld by the authority of the late king, were no match for the dark, and powerful Richard of Gloucester, backed as he was by the soldiery, with whom his bravery had made him a general fa- vourite. He caused the nearest relations of the queen to be arrested and imprisoned in Pomfret Castle, and thus he got the person of young Edward into his own keeping; after which, a great national council was held at London, where he was chosen Protector of England. He then seemingly prepared for the coronation of his nephew Edward, which was to be performed with great splendour on the 22nd of June, the young kiiig being in the mean time lodged in the Tower, the place from which the English sovereigns were wont to ride in state to their coronation at Westminster. But fearful tragedies occurred during the short period that elapsed before the 294 MILITARY HISTORY, above-mentioned date. On the 13th, the protector held a council in the Tower, in the midst of which he caused lord Hastings, the chief friend of the late king and his family, to be arrested upon the most frivolous pretences, and beheaded immediately upon the premises; while, on the same day, the kinsmen and friends of the queen, ■whom he had thrown into prison, were beheaded by his orders without any trial. The queen had fled, on the first alarm, into the sanctuary at Westminster, with her son, the duke of York, and her live daughters; but it ■was now necessary for the protector's purposes that York should be under his control, as well as young king Edward ; upon which he convoked another council on the 16th, where he represented the disgrace of allowing the boy to remain in sanctuary among thieves and murderers, at the approach of his brother's coronation. Upon this remonstrance a deputation was sent, by whom York was brought and delivered to Richard, ■who placed him also in the Tower. The winding-up of this terrible drama was now rapidly accelerated. It was given out that the young princes were illegitimate, for that their father had privately married lady Eleanor Butler before he was united to lady Grey, so that his last union was illegal ; and that, as the children of Clarence could not succeed, on account of the attainder of their father, therefore the duke of Gloucester, who stood next in suc- cession, ought to inherit the crown of England. To this representation, even darker and fouler hints were added by the partisans of the wily protector, viz. that even Edward IV. and the duke of Clarence were be- gotten in adultery, and that Richard alone was the true son of the duke of York. These iniquities were preached in a sermon at Paul's Cross, on the 22nd of this month, by Dr. Ralph Shaw, a popular divine, and brother to the lord mayor of London. The public mind being thus pre- pared for something wonderful, the duke of Buckingham, ■who had been the chief actor in Richard's late tyran- nical proceedings, made an harangue to the mayor, alder- men, and chief citizens of London, in Guildhall, on the 24th, where he enforced the arguments about the ille- gitimacy of the late king's children ; and as a few caps were tossed up, with the feeble cry of ' Long live king Richard!' Buckingham pretended to take this faint acclamation as the voice of the whole people. On the RICHARD III. CROWNED. 295 following day, therefore, he repaired with a few nobles, and the obsequious town council at his heels, to Baynard's Castle, where the protector lodged — and here commenced a scene unparalleled in the annals of political hypocrisy and grimacing. Buckingham made an eloquent sermon on the iniquities of the late reign and the illegitimacy of Edward's children, and requested Richard to assume the crown, as his undoubted right; but the protector, wrapped up in his integrity, deprecated the temptation like another Caesar, and declared that his love for his brother's children was more to him than a crown. The duke then waxed warm, and declared that England would none of Edward's spurious brood ; but still Glou- cester demurred and hesitated. At last Buckingham roundly told him, that unless he consented to be king, some other person would be found who would not refuse the oifer ; and here the protector seemed to be staggered. He begged some little time for consideration, and sent away the deputies not wholly in despair. On the suc- ceeding day they returned to the charge ; and upon their urgent petition, fairly written, signed, and sealed, the protector, with a sigh, undertook the toils of royalty, and was forthwith acclaimed by the title of Richard III. In addition to those 'most sweet voices' which thus called him to the throne, he had a strong military force in London to confirm the wavering or persuade the dis- contented. His coronation followed on the 27th, in the thirty-first year of his age. Soon after, the young princes in the Tower ceased to exist; and when it was remembered whose interest was most promoted by their untimely and obscure death, the general report was, that they had been assassinated by the command of their un- scrupulous uncle. Although Richard had thus burdened his soul with an inheritance of remorse to ascend the throne of England, he soon found that it was not to be enjoyed in security. The princes, indeed, were dead, but a more formidable rival still lived in Henry, earl of Richmond, who was now in the full vigour of manhood. This nobleman was descended, by his mother, from an illegitimate son of John of Gaunt, by Catherine Swiueford, whose family, although it had been legitimated by act of par- liament, had been expressly precluded from all right to the royal succession. But, notwithstanding this dis- 29G MILITARY HISTORY. qualification, the Lancasterians, after the death of He))ry and his son Edward, regarded Richmond as the repre- sentative of their cause, a feeling that became more general on account of the atrocities of Richard's acces- sion. Edward IV. had long regarded this scion of the rival house with an evil eye, and plotted to entrap him ; but Henry, whose youth was spent in exile and amidst such perilous intrigues, was continually upon his guard. Not only the Lancasterian party, but many of the dis- contented Yorkists also, were anxious that the earl should now set himself up as the rival of the usurper; and to strengthen his defective title, as well as to unite the claims of the two contending houses, it was pro- posed that he should marry Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Edward IV. This plot was farther thickened by the duke of Buckingham, who having quarrelled with Eichard, whom he had made king, was now anxious to unravel his whole work, and transfer the crown to the earl of Richmond. The duke was joined in his scheme by several of the English nobility who hated the tyrant, and they agreed to proclaim Richmond in several places at once, to distract the attention of their opponents. But want of decision was no fault of Richard, and he was soon at the head of an army ready to act wherever his presence might be required. In the mean time, Buckingham had raised forces in Wales, with which he attempted to pass the Severn and join the confederates ; hut the river had so greatly overflowed its banks, that it was impassable : the Welsh, in consequence, forsook hini, and after wandering about the counti-y in concealment, he was betrayed by a perfidious servant, and executed at Salisbury without trial. In consequence of the faihire of this principal member of the conspiracy, the rest fled to the continent, or sought refuge in sanctuaries and concealments. Richmond had been very active in mus- tering a small army, with which he embarked for Eng- land to join his partisans ; but his fleet was dispersed and driven back by a violent storm, and on returning home, it was only to hear that his friends in England were dead or dispersed, and that the conspiracy had come to nothing. Richard, notwithstanding this signal success, con- tinued to be more and more miserable ; he had lost not only the afl'ectiou of the nobles, but he was soon be- 1 BAITLE OF BOSWORTH. 297 leaved by death of his only son, in whom he liad lioped that his royal Hue would be perpetuated ; and then fol- lowed the demise of his queen, that daughter of the earl of Warwick who had been betrothed to Edward, the son of Henry VI. When he recovered from these stun- ning- blows, he began to weave his ambitious web of policy anew, by soliciting in marriage Elizabeth, his own niece, by which union he hoped to traverse the matrimonial designs of Richmond. The weak and worth- less queen-dowager, whose sons, brothers, and friends, Richard had murdered, was eager for this measure, by which she hoped to regain something of her former con- sequence in society, and even Elizabeth herself was well inclined towards this unnatural union. It therefore be- hoved Richmond to hasten his preparations before the crown should be secured beyond bis reach, and his policy and ambition were equally alert at the tidings. The English exiles on the continent were gathered to his standard, and these, with 2000 French adventurers, com- posed a force of 3000 men, with which he set sail, and arrived at Milford Haven on the 7th of August, 1485. Although this army was so small, Richmond did not undertake the measure in a spirit of desperate adven- ture. Richard was ignorant in what quarter a landing would be made; his coffers were impoverished; he knew not which of his nobles to trust, while he was aware that several were ready to betray him to his rival. As soon as he heard of the landing, he ordered certain chiefs to muster their troops and give battle to the invader; but instead of this, they joined their re- tainers to those of Richmond, whose army swelled as it advanced ; and lord Stanley, who had raised 5000 men, although he followed the king's banner, agreed to desert to Richmond with all his forces as soon as the battle joined. Under these different auspices, the two armies approached each other. The forces of Richard trebled those that were arrayed against him, while the earl had never yet fought a battle ; but they were an army wholly composed of lukewarm indifference or meditated treachery and desertion. It was on the 23rd of August that the battle of Bos- worth was fought— that conflict which closed the san- guinary tragedy of the contentions between the houses of York and Lancaster. Richard, with a royal crown 2 298 MILITARY HISTORY. upon his helmet, niarshalled his troops ; and after ex» horting them to do their duty bravely, the battle joined. But scarcely had the first shock of onset been g^iven, when it was shown how little dependence could be placed upon the fidelity of the tyrant's forces. The largest part of them did not strike one stroke ; the earl of Northumberland withdrew his men, and looked on, as if he had been contemplating a holiday spectacle — and Stanley, who had hovered at a distance with his numer- ous forces, to the great perplexity of both armies, all at once turned the beam by throwing himself into the scale of Richmond. All that mortal skill and bravery could now accomplish on the part of Richard was unavailing: he saw that his last hour was come, and he rallied all his energies for a home blow of vengeance, if not of vic- tory. Laying his lance in the rest, and shouting ' Trea- son, treason !' he dashed amidst his adversaries, and at the first charge transfixed Sir William Brandon, Rich- mond's standard-bearer, so that man and banner rolled in the dust. He then unhorsed Sir John Cheyny, a knight of gigantic stature and strength, and seeing Richmond himself at no great distance, he drew his sword, and fought his way through the press, in the hope of grap- pling with his rival. But Stanley interposed, and sur- rounded him with all his forces, and Richard perished, desperately fighting to the last, and looking terrible even in death. His lifeless body after the battle was dragged from amidst a heap of slain, and the battered coronet was torn from his temples, and placed upon the head of the earl of Richmond, who was instantly saluted king. In consequence of the apathy or desertion of Richard's followers, this contest was short, and attended with less bloodshed than most of those engagements that have changed a royal dynasty, as the slain upon both sides scarcely amounted to 1500. The nation was now so weary of that dreadful civil contention by which it had been toin in pieces, that it gladlv recognised the claim of the successful competitor, notwithstanding the defective na- ture of his title, and the smallness of his army, so that after the victory of Bosworth, Henry proceeded to ex- ercise the royal authority without opposition. He was crowned on the 20th of October, and on the beginning of the following year (1486), he married the princess Elizabeth, by which the contending claims of the rival houses were united in his own person. 299 CHAPTER IX. From the accession of Henry VII. to the death of Queen Elizabeth. Although Henry VII. endeavoured to reconcile the Yorkists to his accession by marrying the daughter of Edward IV., the violence of party feeling-, which had ruled for so long a period, could not so suddenly subside. The adherents of the house of York, who were still very numerous, looked with a jealous eye upon the king be- cause he was a Lancasterian ; and they hated him for the reservedness of his manners, and the severity with which he watched every movement of the old friends of Richard and Edward. Their chief object therefore was to set up some person of the former ro3al line under whom the claims of their faction might be revived ; and for this purpose they pitched upon the name of the young eail of Warwick, son of the duke of Clarence. The earl him- self had been a prisoner in the Tower from infancy, and was therefore inaccessible to the Yorkists ; but as it was easy to find some one to personate him, a youth named Lambert Simnel, the natural son of a baker, was selected for the purpose. Him they carefully trained in the de- ceit, and then they sent him to Ireland, where the people were ignorant of the person of the earl of Warwick. Simnel assumed the title, and played his part to admira- tion. The Irish were charmed with his beauty and af- fable manners, and as they had been always devoted to the house of York, they soon mustered a foi-midable army for the invasion of England. The duchess of Burgundy, also, who, as sister of Edward IV., hated the whole race of Lancaster, lent herself to the deceit, and sent 2000 Gennan soldiers to Ireland, to aid the insursents. All being now in readiness, the army, to the number of 8000 men, embarked for England, and landed in Lan- cashire, on the 4th of June, 1487. Henry rapidly assem- bled his forces, and met the invaders at Stoke, near Newark, on the 16th. A desperate conflict ensued, ia which the valour of the rebels, who expected no mercy if they were defeated, and the veteran skill of Martin Swartz, who commanded the German auxiliaries, kept the victory in suspense for three hours. It was even 300 MILITARY HISTORY. thought at one period., that the cause of Henry was on the brink of ruin, for his soldiers began to give way. But the Irish kerns, who had no defensive armour, fell in heaps before the English archers, and were at last put to flight. The earl of Sincoln, lords Level and Ge- rardine, Martin Swartz, and sir Thomas Broughton, fell, with 4000 of their followers, while the loss of the king was about 2000. As for Lambert Simnel, who had been crowned in the cathedral of Dublin with a diadem taken from the head of the Virgin, he was made prisoner ; and Henry — as if to illustrate the shortness of the step from the sublime to the ridiculous, sent the lad to the royal kitchen, where he was usefully employed as a turnspit, from which office be was afterwards promoted to that of falconer. The faction opposed to the king were not to be daunted by the failure of one conspiracy, and a new impostor was brought forward to personate the duke of York, youngest son to Edward IV. who had been smothered in the 'i'ower by command of Richard III. This was Per- kin Waibeck, a native of Tourney, who, personating the young prince, recited a plausible tale of his escape from the Tower, and his subsequent wanderings and hardships, while he astonished even the most sceptical by his vivid recollections of the court and person of Edward IV. The duchess of Burgundy received the youth with rapture as her long-lost nephew, and after furnishing him with mo- ney, she sent him to Ireland, to restore the ruined line of Plantagenet. But the Irish, who still smarted under the defeat at Stoke, wisely kept aloof on this occasion, upon which Warbeck repaired to Paris, where he was at first received by the French king with royal honours, but soon dismissed without ceremony, when peace was about to be proclaimed between France and England. The youthful vagabond then took refuge in the court of Burgundy, whither the malcontent Yorkists repaired, to do homage to their royal chieftain. When the plot had ripened for action, Warbeck, through the aid of the duchess, mustered a considerable force of desperate men belonging to different nations, and landed in Kent, near Sandwich, on the 3rd of July, 1495. But the inhabitants were so dismayed at the sight of his motley array, that instead of joining him, they took 150 of his men pri- soners, who were all hanged by the king's orders, for BATTLE OF BLACKHEATH. 301 an example. He then tried Ireland once more, but with no better fortune than at first ; upon which he repaired to the court of Scotland, where he was njore successful ; James IV. being completely cajoled by the nielaucholy tale and engaging manners of the pretended prince, to whom he gave in marriage his own kinswoman, lady Catherine Gordon, daughter of the earl of Huntley, one of the most beautiful and accomplished ladies in Scot- laud. James now raised a powerful army, and marched into England in October, 1496, accompanied by Warbeck, who published a manifesto to his loving English sub- jects, stating his claims to their allegiance. But the craft and cruelty of Henry were now so well known and dreaded, that the summons was ineffectual ; and James, on finding the people so lukewarm, began to suspect that he had been deceived, and therefore marched home with the adventurer in his company. As the Scots had wrought great havoc upon the Eng- lish borders during their expedition, Henry applied to parliament for money to carry on a war of retaliation, upon which £120,000 was granted, to be levied under certain restrictions. But the king, in whom avarice was a predominant passion, began to collect the money with the severity of a usurer, and the semi-barbarous people of Cornwall bi-oke out into open rebellion. A large multitude armed with miscellaneous weapons marched through the counties of Devon and Somerset, and being joined by lord Audley, who became their leader, they advanced within sight of the capital, and encamped on Blackheath. In this emergency, Henry re- called lord Daubeny and his troops from the north, and was so superior in numbers, that he divided his army into three squadrons, to enclose the insurgents on every side. On the •22nd. of June (1495), the men of Cornwall were attacked by the royal troops, and so completely routed after a brave but unavailing resistance, that 2000 were killed, and almost all who survived were taken prisoners. The ringleaders only were sent to execution, while the king allowed his soldiers to ransom their cap- tives at two or three shillings a head. During this com- motion, England was again invaded by the Scots, who besieged Norham castle, and plundered the neighbour- hood ; but on hearing that the earl of Surrey was ap- proaching at the head of 20,000 soldiers, they retreated 302 MILITARY HISTORY. into Scotland. Surrey then marched a few miles across the border, where he demolished the paltry castle of Ay- ton, and then returned to Berwick, It was contrary to the interests of Henry to prosecute this war while he was disturbed by the machinations of the Yorkists : he therefore entered into a treaty of peace with the Scottish king', in consequence of which Warbeck was gently in- formed that he must seek an asylum elsewhere. The fugitive then repaired to Ireland with his amiable wife, and about 120 followers ; but finding himself neglected, he resolved to try the affection of the people of Corn- wall, who, notwithstanding their late defeat and pardon, were still ready for insurrection. He lauded at Whit- sand Bay on the 7th of September, 1493, and was joined by 30no of the discontented, upon which he laid siege to Exeter ; but he soon showed that he was as until for ac- tion, as he was unable to be at rest. The men of Exeter made a stout defence, and compelled him to raise the siege; and on hearing that the royal forces v/ere march- ing against him, he completely lost heart, and fled from his faithful followers, to take sanctuary in the monastery of Bewly, upon which the insurgents submitted to the king. As for Warbeck, who had shown such a lack of royal spirit, he was paraded through the streets of Lou- don by the king's orders, amidst the hootings and taunts of the populace ; he was obliged to give a full confession of his false pretences and imposture, and after this expo- sure he was committed to the Tower. He then attempted to escape from prison, but was discovered, tried, con- demned, and executed ; and the unfortunate earl of Warwick, who had been entangled by him in the same design, was beheaded a few days after. Thus perished the last hopes of the Y'orkists to shake the throne of Henry, whose subsequent reign was one of uninter- rujited peace, and in which his sole occupation was to extort and hoard up money. He died at Richmond on the 2lst of April, 1509, in the fifty-fourth year of his age, and twenty-fourth of his reign. lu the course of our history, we have deemed it un- necessary to allude to a powerful agent occasionally used in the conflicts of the middle ages, and which was now beginning to change the whole character of warfare. 'This was gunpowder, which seems to have been used by the English in the reign of Edward III. when that mo- INTRODUCTION OF GUNPOWDER. 303 narcb made a campaign against tiie Scots a. d. 1327. On that occasion Barbour, the rhyming historian of Robert Bruce, mentions cannon, which he calls ' crackys of war.' These instruments were also used at the battle of Crecy, where four pieces were planted on a little hill; a:id although they do not appear to have done much execution, they astonished the French soldiers with their alarming- noise. As we proceed in the history of Eng- land, we find more frequent allusions to gunpowder, and its uses, which were yearly becoming more prevalent ; but the application of such a tremendous power was still so imperfect, that it had little effect upon the fate of a battle. The first weapon of fire-arms was the cannon, or as it was then called the bombard, which was wholly made of iiou bars, or pieces of iron fitted to- gether lengthways, and hooped with iron rings, and the cannon balls were made of stone. These engines, how- ever, were so clumsily fabricated, that they were almost as dangerous to friends as enemies, being liable to burst ; and from an accident of this nature, James II. of Scot- land was killed by one of his own cannon at the siege of Roxburgh, a. u. 1459. About the middle of the fifteenth century, cannon began to be cast in one piece, and were formed of a mixed metal instead of iron. These pieces went under several names according to their calibre, such as cannon, culverines, falcons, serpentines, &c. and as the process of pointing and discharging them was both slow and uncertain, they were more depended upon in the operations of a siege, than the more rapid emer- gencies of a field engagement. The first attempt to use hand artillery was made at the end of the fourteenth century, and the contrivance was of the rudest description. A portable piece called a hand- cannon was contrived, which was carried by two men, and fired from a rest fixed in the ground. At this period of our history, (Henry VII.) the musket had been invented, and introduced into armies ; but it was so clumsy, that it had to be laid on a rest before it could be discharged ; and although the bullet could break through every kind of defensive armour, yet the piece was so long in loading, and the match with which it was fired was liable to so many accidents, that the long-bow still continued to be the favourite and eflfective artillery of England. In spite therefore of the irresistible powers of gunpowder, knights 304 MILITARY HISTORY. and men-at-arms still retained the heavy panoply, and cultivated the usages, of the early chivalrous ages. The accession of Henry VI 1 1, was marked by such fa- vourable circumstances as few of his predecessors had enjoyed. He was in his eighteenth year, handsome, learned, and accomplished. With an overflowing trea- sury, he possessed the love of his subjects ; there was no competitor to the throne, and the nation was at peace with Europe. But Europe itself was up in arms, through the plots of Ferdinand of Spain and pope Ju- lius II. against France; and it was deemed of high im- portance that the young, wealthy, and powerful king of Ei ^l.md should be included in the league against Louis XII. Ferdinand, who was Henry's father-in-law, undertook a negotiation for this purpose, and succeeded. Henry was delighted with the flatteries of the pontiff, and the prospect of the title of Most Christian King, which Louis was declared to have forfeited ; and he be- gan to prepare for war with great activity, while the nation was equally gratified with the prospect of new victories and conquests in France. An army of 10,000 men, chiefly archers, was raised, and embarked at South- ampton on the 16th of May, 1512, under the command of the marquis of Dorset ; but on arriving at Guipiscoa, no traces of that Spanish army was to be found which was to have joined the English on their lauding. Ferdinand, who had brought matters to this point, had purposes in view to which his allies were to be passively and uncon- sciously subsei-vient. Instead therefore of joining them with his forces for the conquest of Guienne, according to agreement, he fell upon the kingdom of Navarre, and conquered it in a few months. In the mean time the English, who could not proceed without their ally, re- mained impatient and inactive in their camp at Foute- rabia, until Guienne was fortified, and the opportunity lost. Thus the selfish Ferdinand had merely used them to keep the French in check until his conquest of Na- varre was completed, after which their presence was of no farther service; and they returned home in Decem- ber discontented, and diminished in numbers, amidst the indignant murmurs of the whole country. Henry, equally undaunted and untaught by this ex- ample, resolved to prosecute the war with France t)y land and sea, and his continental allies agreed to second B.Vn Lli OF FLODDEN FIELD. 305 (lis measures with all their forces; but in this they only designed, like Ferdinand, to use hiui for their tool. He also endeavoured to prevail upon his brother-in-law, James IV. of Scotland, to enter into his measures, but the Scottish king preferred the ancient alliance with Fiance — upon which Henry added James to the list of his enemies. England was now prejiarins at one and tlie same time for an ofFerrsive war with France, and a defensive one with Scotland, so that while the wardens were assembling- their forces upon the borders, fleets were preparing and troops were mustering at the sea-ports. On June 30th, Henry set sail from Dover with a strong reinforcement to his army before Terouenne, and upon his absence the storm burst from Scotland upon the Eng- lish border. The king- of France had been soliciting the Scottish monarch to make a diversion in. his behalf, and James had listened and deliberated ; but when the French qtieen also joined in the request, his chivalrous feelings overcame his political calculations. She sent him a ring from her own finger, conjuring him, as her knight, to lisk. one day's maich into England for her sake ; and lest want of funds should interfere with such a deed, she accompanied the gem with 14,000 golden crowns. James therefore sent a fierce defiance to Henry in his camp of Terouenne, and then prepared for war upon an exten- sive scale, by summoning the whole military array of the kingdom to meet him at Edinburgh, with provisions for forty days. He entered England with one of the best armies that had ever followed a Scottish king, and took several border castles, among which was that of Ford ; but in this last place was a fair syren, the wife of the castellan, whose blandishments delayed his proceedings, so that his army, from want of provisions, began to melt away. In the mean time the earl of Surrey, who had mustered a numerous array, advanced to defend the Eng- lish frontiers, and sent a challenge to the Scottish king to abide his coming in the open field ; but James, who should have retired before such a force, end-ed as he had commenced, in the spirit of a knight errant. He accepted the challenge against the remonstrances of his best counsellors, and proceeded, with the infatuation of a man doomed to ruin, to prepare for the conflict. The only evidence he gave of reflection was, to take up a strong position ou the bill of Flodden, where his flanks 308 MILITARY HISTORY. were inaccessible, and bis front defended by the river Till ; so that when Surrey advanced, he found an attack impossible, and would soon have been compelled to re- treat from want of provisions, had James but exercised a little patience. But Surrey determined to bring- on an action under less formidable obstacles, by turning the flank of the Scots, and placine ga- thered all the fishing-boats and feluccas that could be found in the neighbourhood, and ordered the soldiers, as soon as the British fleet appeared in sight, to embark in these, and sail directly for Barcelona. He then threv/ himself on board a fishing-boat, and sailed by night to the British squadron, which he ordered immediately to advance — for his commission gave him authority by sea as well as land. This movement v.'a3 made accoidingly, and at sight of it the French cut their cables, and fled in confusion. The coast being thus cleared, his infantry on shore, according to his orders, embarked in their crazy skiffs, and sailed into Barcelona, which they reached in safety. The whole town was in a frenzy of delight at this unexpected arrival. All hope of taking Barcelona was now extinguished, and the enemy immediately broke up the siege in the greatest confusion. While the influence of Peterborough was thus at the height, he took care to press his favourite project of an advance upon Madrid through Valencia — a measure of easy accomplishment, as the Spanish capital was defended by a gari-ison of not more than 500 men, while the army of the duke of Berv%'ick was in full retreat before lord Galway. The plan was this time adopted by the council of war on the ISth of ^!ay, and it was agreed that the earl should proceed with 6000 infantry by sea to Valencia, while the cavalry under Charles should await his move- ments, until the passage by land was cleared ; after which, they shor.ld all join with the forces of lord Galway, and drive the Bourbons out of Spain by a united onset. But the demon of jealousy, which had hitherto swayed the feelings of Charles and his Spaniards against the brave and successful, but arrogant and impetuous earl, again entered to overthrow these wise resolutions ; and, therefore, instead of the 6000 men which had been pro- mised him, the earl received only 4000, and these, too, as miserably unprovided as if Sir John Falstaff himself had presided over the commissariat. Lord Peterborough, however, did what he could by purchasing stores and converting foot soldiers into cavalry; but after this had been done, and when he was ready to take the field, he found that the king, instead of moving, was still deter- 402 MILITARY HISTORY, mined to take his ease at Barcelona. The earl, tliere- fore, being- unable to march upon Madrid, was obliged to confine himself to a useless and flying warfare, by reducing a few places along the coast. At last, Charies roused himself to exertion ; but, instead of marching to the capital, at the head of the English and Spanish forces combined, according to the original plan, and by which he might in all probability have entered Madrid in triumph, he set ofF with the purpose of reaching it by a very circuitous route, and accompanied only by a small military escort. He got, however, no farther than Saragoza, from which all the urgent entreaties of lord Peterborough could not draw him. His lordship being thus disappointed in all his plans, and having a morbid eagerness for distinction that would not allow him to remain inactive, endeavoured to signalize himself by other achievements. He sent out expeditions against Alicant and Carthagena, both of which places were taken ; but while time; the most precious of all military resources, had been squandered upon these fruitless dis- sensions and exploits, the power of Philip, although shaken by previous defeats, had become more formidable than ever. The duke of Berwick, as able a champion of the Bourbon as Peterborough was of the Austrian dynasty, took the field, and so successfully checked the advance of lord Galway, that the fortune of the war was visibly changed. Galway, indeed, might have made head against his antagonist successfully, had he been joined by the earl of Peterborough for that purpose ; but the latter was, unfortuTiately, too proud either to act a sub- ordinate part, or to share his reputation with another, and therefore, instead of combining with his countryman in a common effort, he preferred a fruitless war of sieges and skirmishes of which the whole glory should be his own. At last, when it was too late to be effectual, the jarring commanders united their forces, and were joined by Charles, who endeavoured, but in vain, to reconcile these leaders, who were now hotly contending upon the ques- tion of precedence. Several proposals were made ; but, as neither nobleman would submit to act a part sub- ordinate to the other, the royal peace maker's efforts were frustrated. Lord Peterborough proposed that the forces should be divided into three or four separate corps, EARL OF PETERBOROUGH. 403 but without sui-cess; he then offered to attempt the recovery of Madrid with 5000 men, but this was also re- jected. Indeed; during the day of success the earl had by no means been in the habit of bearing his honours meekly, and all his dictatorial and offensive conduct was now remembered against him. He, therefore, found that a longer stay with the Spanish army would be fruit- less, and he proposed to repair, in obedience to his original instructions, to the aid of the duke of Savoy, whose capital was closely invested. This proposal was received by Charles without a moment's hesitation ; indeed, the poor monarch was glad to be delivered from tbe control of so severe a schoolmaster. His affairs, however, by no means prospered by the riddance ; the cause of his rival, delivered from its chief antagonist, was every where successful, until at last it was com- pletely triumphant upon the bloody field of Almauza. It is at this point tbat the history of the military career of the earl of Peterborough properly terminates; for although he afterwards enjoyed a long and a busy life, it was chiefly in the bustle of politics and among court intrigues, in which he accomplished nothing and lost the confidence of all parties. As a soldier, his genius for war perhaps approached nearest to that of the illus- trious Marlborough of any man of the age; but he had neither the discretion, the patience, nor the suavity, of his illustrious contemporary, so that, instead of pioducing great and pei-maneut effects, adequate to the extent of his capabilities, he only blazed and astonished until his meteoric course was finished, after which he was equally forgotten by friend and enemy. He died as he had lived, in the hurry of travel, being on a voyage to Lisbon for the recovery of his health. This event occurred on the 2'jth of October, 1735, in the seventy-eighth year of bis age. 4)4 MILITARY HISTORY. JOHN CAMPBELL, DUKE OF ARGYLL. John Campbell, duke of Argyll and Greenwich, was the son of John Campbell, first duke of Argyll, and was born on the 10th of October, 1678. Very early in life he formed a resolution of entering into the military service ; and, therefore, though he had a solid penetrating judgment and ready wit, he did not so assiduously devote himself to study as his family expected or desired. The first time we meet with him in a public capacity is in the year IC94, when king William gave him the command of a regiment, though not quite seventeen years of age. His father, the first duke of Argyll, dying in 1703, his grace was soon after sworn of his majesty's privy council, appointed captain of the Scotch horse guards, and one of the extraordinary lords of session of Scotland. In 1704, he was installed one of the knights of the Thistle ; and, in 1705, he was made a peer of England by tlie title of baron of Chatham and earl of Greenwich, and appointed her majesty's high commis- sioner to the Scotch parliament. At the battle of Ramillies, in 170i3, he acted as a brigadier general ; and, though but a young man, gave signal proofs of his valour and conduct. He also commanded at the siege of Ostend as brigadier-general, and in the same station at that of Menin, and was in the action of Oudenarde in 1708. At the siege of Ghent, in the same year, he commanded as major-general, and took possession of the town. In 1709, at the siege of Tournay, which was carried on by three attacks, he commanded one of them in quality of lieutenant general, to which rank he had been raised a few months before. At the bloody battle of Malplaquet, the same year, the duke of Argyll was ordered to dis- lodge the enemy from the wood of Sart, which he exe- cuted with great bravery and lesolution : he pierced through it, and gained a considerable post, but narrowly escaped, having several musket balls shot through his clothes, hat, and wig. In 1711, he was appointed am- bassador-extraordinary to king- Charles HI. of Spain, UUKE OF ARGYLL. 405 and generalissimo of the British forces in that kingdom On the Sth of September, 1712, the cessation of arms between Great Britain and France was notified to the Imperial general, upon which the dute of Argyll sailed with the English troops to Port Mahon ; -where, when be arrived, he caused the emperor's colours to be taken down, and the British to be hoisted on the several castles of that island. After his grace's return to England, he did not re- main long in the favour of the ministry-; for he heartily joined in opposing all secret intrigues against the piotestai.t succession, which was in imminent danger. When the question was put in the House of Peers, ' Whether the protestant succession was in danger or not?' the duke delivered himself to the following ef- fect : ' That he had lately crossed the kingdom of France, both in going to and returning from Minorca. That it was indeed one of the finest countries in the universe; but that there were marks of a general deso- lation in all the places through which he passed. That he had rode forty miles together without meeting a man fit to carry arms. That the rest of the people were in the utmost misery and want; and, therefore, he did not apprehend what necessity there was to conclude a peace so precipitately with a prince whose dominions were so exhausted of men, money, and provisions. As to the question now under debate, he said that he firmly be- lieved the succession in the electoral house of Hanover to be in danger from the jiresent ministers, whom he durst charge with maladministration both within these walls and without. That he knew, and offered to prove, that the treasurer had yearly remitted £4000. to the Highland chiefs of Scotland, who were known to be en- tirely devoted to the Pretender, in order to keep them under military discipline and ready for any attempt. That, on the other hand, the new-modelling of the army, by disbanding some regiments out of their turn, and by removing from their employments a vast number of officers, merely on account of their known affection to the house of Hanover, were clear indications of the designs in hand ; adding, that it was a disgrace to the nation to see men who had never looked an enemy in the face advanced to the places of several brave officers, who, after they had often exposed their lives for their 43o MILITARY HISTORY. country, were now starving' in prison, for debt contracted for want of pay.' Upon the accession of George I., the duke was imme- diately taken into favour at court, and made general and commander-in-chief of the king's forces in Scotland. In consequence of this commission, he commanded the army when the rebellion broke out in Scotland in 1715 ; and having received his instructions, he went to Edinburgh, where he published a proclamation for increasing the forces. He then marched to Leith, and summoned the citadel, into which brigadier M'Intosh, one of the Pre- tender's generals, had retired; but, upon M'Intosh an- swering that he was determined to hold out, and neither give nor take quarter, the duke thought proper to retire, and return to Edinburgh. The earl of Mar being now joined by the earl of Seaforth and general Gordon, thought himself strong enough to execute his grand desii^n of passing the Forth, joining his southern friends, and marching into England. Accordingly he left Perth on the 10th of November for Auchterardar ; and the duke of Argyll Laving intelligence of this movement, was at no uncertainty what to do. He knew that if he was to dispute their passage over the Foith, at the heads of that river, his horse would be of no service in these grounds; and, therefore, he chose to fight the earl on the grounds about Dumblain, where he might avail himself of all his forces. He therefore ordered his whole army to pass the river at the bridge of Stirling, and encamped with his left at Dumblain and his right towards Sheriffmuir ; and the enemy advanced the same night within two miles of the royal armj-, and stood under arms till breaft of day. On the 13th, in the morning, both armies were in motion ; and the duke of Argyll advanced to a rising ground to take a survey of the rebel armj', which he could easily discern in full march towards him ; but another hill on his left intercepted his view, so that it was impossible for him to guess at the true extent of their line, or how far they outflanked him. His army, amount- ing to 3500 men, of which 1200 were dragoons, was drawn up on the heights above Dumblain, to the north- east of that place, which lay about a mile and a half from his left, and a wet boggy mire or morass called SherifF-muir on his right. The earl of Mar, who knew DUKE OF ARGYLL. 4(yr that his numbers greatly exceeded the duke's, extended his lines as far as possible, with a design to take his op- ponent in flank, and marched up to him in this dis- position. Argryll, who till now supposed that the morass of SheriflF-muir was impassable, saw that the two or three nights' frost had made it capable of bearing', and that the rebels were coming down the moor with an intent to flank him, having their right much extended beyond the point of his left. Hearing their bagpipes at a great distance, he found himself obliged to alter the disposition of his front to prevent his being sxirrounded, which was not to be done so expeditiously as to be all formed again before the rebels began the attack. The left wing of the duke's small ai*my fell in with the centre of their opponents, which consisted of the flower of the rebel army ; and the clans, animated by the presence of their chiefs, commenced the attack with uncommon bravery. They began by a general discharge of fire- arms, and received the volley of the royal troops without shrinking; but at the first fire the captain of Clanronald, who led them on, was killed, which had like to have struck a damp upon them, as their love for that chief fell little short of adoration ; but Glengar^-, starting from the lines, waved his bonnet, and cried three or four times, ' Revenge !' which so animated the men, that they followed him like furies close up to the muzzles of the muskets, pushed by the bayonets with their targets, and with their broad swords spread death and terror wherever they came. The three battalions of foot on the left of the duke's centre behaved gallantly; but being unacquainted with this way of fighting, against which the rules of modern war had made no provision, they were forced to give way in confusion. A total rout of that wing of the royal army ensued, and general Witham, with some horse, riding full gallop to Stirling, gave out there that all was lost : but upon the right wing of the royal army the duke of Argyll commanded in person, and he charged at the head of Stair and Evans's dragoons with such intrepidity, that although the rebels made a gallant and obstinate resistance, they were obliged to give way. The duke pursued them towards the river Allan, and though the distance is not above two miles, yet in that space they attempted to rally nearly a dozen times. The duke, who had now entirely 408 MILITARY HISTORY. broken theii* left, and pushed them over the river Allan, returned to the field, and took possession of some en- closures and mud walls, which would serve for a breast- work in the event of a fresh attack. In this posture both parties stood at gaze, but neither caring to en- gage ; wheii towards evening the duke drew off towards Dumblain, and the enemy towards Ardoch, without molesting one another. Whichever side might claim the triumph, it must be owned that all the honour and all the advantages of the day belonged only to Argyll. It was sufficient for him to have interrupted the enemy's progress ; and delay was to them a de- feat. The earl of Mar, therefore, soon found his dis- appointments and losses increase. The castle of Inver- ness, of which he was in possession, was delivered up to the king by lord Lovat, who had hitherto appeared in the interest of the Pretender. The marquess of Tulli- bardine left the earl to defend his own country, and many of the clans, seeing no likelihood of coming soon to a second engagement, returned home; for an irregular army is much easier led to battle than induced to bear the fatigues of a campaign. The Pretender mi^ht now be convinced of the vanity of his expectations, in imagining that the whole country would rise up in his cause. His affairs were actually- desperate; yet, with the usual infatuation of the family, he resolved to hazard his person among his friends in Scotland at a time when such a measure was totally useless. Passing, therefore, through France in disguise, and embarking in a small vessel at Dunkirk, he arrived on the 2'2d of December on the coast of Scotland, with only six gentlemen in his retinue. Upon his arrival in Aberdeen, he was solemnly proclaimed; and soon after he made his public entry into Dundee. In two days more he came to Scone, where he intended to have the cere- mony of his coronation performed. He ordered thanks- givings for his safe arrival ; enjoined the ministers to pray for him in the churches; and, without the smallest share of power, went through all the ceremonies of royalty, which were at such a juncture perfectly ridi- culous. After this unimportant parade, he resolved to abandon the enterprise with the same levity with which it had been undertaken, and he embarked again for France, with the earl of Mar and some others, in a DUKE OF ARGYLL. 409 small ship that lay iu the harbour of Montrose, and in iive days an-ived at Gravelin. General Gordon, who was left commander-in-chief of the forces, with the assistance of the earl-marshal, proceeded with them to Aberdeen, where he secured three vessels to sail north- ward, which took on board the persons who intended to make their escape to the continent. In this manner the rebellion was suppressed ; but the fury of the victors did not seem in the least to abate with success. The law was put in force with all its terrors ; and the prisons of London were crowded with those deluded wretches whom the ministry showed no disposition to spare. The Commons, in their address to the crown, de- clared they would prosecute, in the most vigorous manner, the authors of the rebellion ; and their reso- lutions were as speedy as their measures were vin- dictive. The earls of Derwentwater, Nithsdale, Carn- wath, and Wintown, and the lords Widrington, Kenmuir, and Nairn, were impeached. The Habeas Corpus Act ■was suspended; and the rebel lords, upon pleading gnilty, received sentence of death. Nothing could soften the privy council ; the House of Lords even presented an address to the throne for mercy, but without effect. Orders were despatched for executing the earls of Der- wentwater and Nithsdale and viscount Kenmuir imme- diately ; the others were respited for three weeks longer. Nithsdale, however, escaped in women's clothes, which were brought him by his mother the night before his intended execution. Derwentwater and Kenmuir were brought to the scaffold on Tower-hill at the hour ap- pointed. Both underwent their sentence with calmness and intrepidity, pitied by all, seemingly less moved themselves than the spectators. After having- put the army into winter quarters, the duke of Argyll returned to London, and was most gra- ciously received by his majesty ; but in a few months, to the surprise of all mankind, he was turned out of all his places. The duke's patriotic conduct in parliament was the cause of this political disgrace. He joined with those humane persons who recommended it to the ministry, in vain, to be more merciful to the delinquents, after the rebellion was suppressed. In June, 1715, when the famous Schism Bill was brought into the House of Lords, he opposed it with great zeal and strength of T^ 410 MILITARY HISTORY. argument ; and iu the debate on the Mutiny Bill, he opposed any extension of the military power, and urged the necessity of a reduction of the standing army — a step ■which was by no means agreeable to the court. In the beginning of the year 1719, the duke was again admitted into his majesty's favour, who was pleased to appoint him lord-steward of his household, and to create him duke of Greenwich ; and, in 1726, he was appointed colonel of the prince of Wales's regiment of horse. But, notwithstanding these promotions, the duke, with pa- triotic zeal for his native country, warmly opposed the extension of the malt tax this year to Scotland. From this time we have no memoirs in the life of the duke of Argyll deserving public notice till the year 1737, when a bill was brought into parliament for punishing the lord provost of Edinburgh for abolishing the city guard, and for depriving the corporation of several an- cient privileges on account of the insurrection in 1736, when the mob broke into the prison and hanged captain Porteus. The duke opposed this bill with great warmth in the House of Lords, as an act of unjust severity, and his opposition highly displeased the ministry ; but they did not think proper to show any public marks of resent- ment at that time. In 1739, when the convention with Spain was brought before the house for their approbation, he spoke with warmth against it; and, in the same session, his grace opposed a vote of credit, as there was no sum limited in the message sent by his majesty. On the 15th of April, 1740, the house took into consideration the state of the army, upon which occasion he made an eloquent speech ; wherein he set forth, with great strength of argument, the misconduct of the ministry, showing a tender regard for the person of his sovei-eigu, while he exerted an unfeigned zeal for the good of the community. Sir Robert Walpole being exasperated at this step, his grace was soon after dismissed from all his employments. Upon the election of a new parliament in 1741, on the application of the city of Edinburgh and several cor- porations, he pointed out to them men of steady, honest, and loyal principles, and independent fortunes ; and, where he had any interest, he endeavoured to prevail with the electors to choose such men. When the parlia- ment was opened, the minister found he had not iuflu- DUKE OF ARGYLL. 411 ence to njaiutuiu his gi-ound ; and a parliamentary in- quiry into his conduct being set on foot, he was dis- charged from his post, and created a peer, with the title of earl of Orford. The duke, in consequence of this change, became the darling of the people, and he seemed likewise to be perfectly restored to favour at court; for he was made master-general of the ordnance, colonel of his majesty's royal regiment of horse guards, and field- marshal and commander-in-chief of all the forces in South Britain. But, in a few months, perceiving that a change of men produced little or no change of measures, he resigned all his posts, and from this time retired from public business, ever after courting privacy and living in retirement. The duke had been for some years labouring under a paralytic disorder, which put a period to his life in the year 1743. He married, when young, Mary, daughter of John Brown, Esq., and niece of Sir Charles Duncomb, lord-mayor of London ; but she dying in 1708, without issue, he married Jane, daughter of Thomas Warburton, Esq., of Winnington, in Cheshire. By her he had four daughters : the eldest of whom married the earl of Dal- keith, son and heir-apparent of the duke of Buccleuch; and the second, the earl of Strafford ; both in his life- time. The duke, in his private character, was a tender father and an indulgent master : he was delicate in the choice of his friends; but, when chosen, very constant to them : he was slow of promising favours ; but, when promised, the performance was sure ; though he often chose rather to purchase preferment for his relations than to beg it. He was naturally compassionate to all mankind ; and, when he met with merit in want, his bounty was very extensive ; nor would he keep the man he was either unable or unwilling to serve in suspense. He preserved a dignity in his behaviour which was often mistaken for pride ; but he was naturally facetious amongst his select friends. A superb monument was erected in Westminster Abbey to his memory — Sir Wil- liam Fermor, while his grace was living, having left £500. to defray the expense of it, out of rei;ard to the great merit of his grace, both as a general and a patriot. 412 MILITARY HISTORY. JAMES WOLFE. No era of the British history exhibits hrig-hter ex- amples of military glory than that in which the immortal Wolfe stood forth to rival the greatest characters of an- tiquity. In his time an animated love of country pre- vailed amongst the land and sea officers, which com- municated the influence of example to the piivate men, and produced such a series of rapid and sisrnal successes as can scarcely be paralleled in the annals of any nation. James Wolfe was the son of lieutenant-seneral Edward Wolfe, an officer of distinguished worth, who served under the duke of Marlborough, and was born at Wester- hara, in the county of Kent, on the 6th of November, J726. It is to be lamented that we have no memoirs of his juvenile years. It would appear, however, that he had been educated for the army almost from his infancy, since he entered the military service at the early age of fouiteen. The gradations of his rise are not ascer- tained ; we are only informed that, during the whole war, he continued improving his military talents, that he was present at every engagement, and never passed undistinguished. His promotion, therefore, must have been as rapid as his merit was great, for we find him holding the rank of lieutenant colonel of Kingsley's regi- ment soon after the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748. In this station, during the peace, he continually studied the science of war, and introduced the most exact disci- pline and regular behaviour into his corps without exer- cising any severity; the love his soldiers bore him being manifested in their readiness to obey his orders. In 1754 a fresh rupture with France seemed inevitable, from the evasive answers given by that court to the re- peated remonstrances of the British ambassador against the depredations and encroachments of French subjects at the back of the British settlements along the banks of the river (ihio, in North America ; they even went so far as to build forts within 225 miles of Philadelphia. Hostilities commenced on both sides in consequence of this violation of the treaty ; but war was not formally declared till 1756. For a short time nothing but losses attended the British arms, till Mr. Pitt, afterwards earl WOLFE. 413 of Chatham, was firmly seated at the head of the admi- nistration. Here he gave striking proofs of his superior abilities for conducting an extensive war, by seeking- for and employing in the land and sea service men of the most enterprising and active genius; and of this number was colonel Wolfe, who was raised to the rank of briga- dier-general, and sent out under major-general Amherst upon the grand expedition against Louisbourg, the capital of the island of Cape Breton. At the siege of this im- portant place he was the first general otficer who landed the left division of the army, amidst the strong and con- tinued fire of the enemy from their batteries on the shore ; and notwithstanding an impetuous surf, which overset some of the boats, he made good his descent and maintained his post, till he had covered the debarkatiou of the middle and the right divisions of the land forces, commanded by brigadiers Whitmore and Lawrence. He then marched with a strong detachment round the north- east part of the harbour, and took possession of the light- house point, where he erected several batteries against the ships and the island fortification ; by which dexterous manoeuvre the success of the whole eutei-prise was in a great measure secured. The regular approaches to the town were now conducted by the engineers, under the immediate command of general Amherst; but still the indefatigable Wolfe, with his detached party, raised several batteries wherever he found a proper situation for annoying the enemy ; and these did great execution both within the town and upon the shipping in the har- bour. On the 27th of July, 1758, Louisbourg surren- dered ; and captain Amherst, brother to the general, was despatched to bear the joyful news to England, with eleven pair of colours taken at the siege, which were carried in great triumph from the palace at Kensington to St. Paul's. The share which Wolfe had in this important conques- iiidnced Mr. Pitt to make choice of him to command a .still more important expedition the ensuing campaign; with which view he was promoted to the rank of major- general. It was resolved that Wolfe, as soon as the .'ieason of the year would adaaif, should sail up the river St. Lawrence with 8000 men, aided by a considerable squadron of ships, to undertake the siege of Quebec; that general Amherst, the commander-in-chief, should, 414 MILITARY HISTORY. with anotber army of about 12,000 men, reduce Ticon- deroga and Crown Point, cross the lake Champlain, pro- ceed along the river Richlieu to the banks of St. Lawrence, and join general Wolfe in the siege of Quebec. General Amherst, however, though he succeeded in reducing Ticonderoga and Crown Point, afterwards found himself under a necessity to support the attack upon Niagara. He therefore sent a large detachment from his army, under brigadier Gage, and Niagara surrendered after a victory gained over the French on the '24th of July, 1759. Thus two parts in three of the plan of operations were happily executed ; but the time necessarily employed in these services made it impossible to comply with the g-eneral instructions to assist Wolfe in the siege of Que- bec. The fleets from England destined for that expe- dition, under the command of the admirals Saunders and Holmes, arrived at Louisbourg in May, and took on board the 8000 land forces, which were landed in two divisions upon the isle of Orleans, a little below Quebec. General Wolfe, upon landing, offered every indulgence to the inhabitants if they would remain neuter. He represented to them, in the strongest terms, the folly of resistance, as the English fleet were masters of the river St. Lawrence, so as to intercept all succours from En- rope ; and he informed them that the cruelties exercised by the French upon British subjects in America might justify the most severe reprisals, but that Britons had too much generosity to follow such examples. But this humane declaration had no immediate effect ; and it was not long before the influence of the priests stimulated the Canadians to join the scalping parties of the Indians, and to sally from the woods upon some unguarded stragglers of the British army, whom they slaughtered with circumstances of most inliuman barbarity. Wolfe then wrote a polite remonstrance to ?>I. de Montcalm, the French general, desiring him to exert his authority over the French and the Indians, to prevent such enormi- ties, but the French general's authority was not sufficient to curb them ; so that Wolfe foiind it necessary, in order to put a stop to these outrages, to suffer our people to retaliate upon some of their prisoners, which had the desired effect. Montcalm, though superior in numbers to the English, chose to depend upon the natural strength of the country. WOLFE. 415 rather than risk an engagement in the field. The city of Quebec was skilfully fortified, defended by a numerous garrison, and plentifully supplied with pro- Tisions and ammunition. Montcalm had reinforced the troops of the colony with five regular battalions, formed of the choicest citizens, and had completely disciplined all the Canadians of the neighbourhood capable of bear- ing arms, with several tribes of savages. With this army he had taken post in a very advantageous situa- tion along the shore, every accessible part of his camp being deeply intrenched. To undertake the siege of Quebec, against such advantages aud superior numbers, was a deviation from the established rules of war; but no prospect of danger could restrain the ardour of Wolfe, and at this time he entertained strong hopes of being joined by general Amherst. The necessary works for the security of the hospital and stores on the island of Orleans being completed in July, the British forces crossed the north channel in boats, and encamped on the banks of the river Montmorenci, which separated them from the left division of the enemy's camp. The general now wrote to Mr. Pitt, describing his situation, and assigning most excellent reasons for the choice of his ground ; amongst others, that there was a ford below the falls of Montmorenci, passable for some hours at the ebb of the tide ; and he hoped, by means of this passage, to find an opportunity of engaging Montcalm upon more advantageous terms than directly to attack his intrench- ments. In this position the British army remained a considerable time, expecting news every day from gene- ral Amherst, and constantly employed in some enterprise against the enemy, to facilitate the final attack on Quebec. At length dispositions were made for attack- ing their intrenchments, to bring on a general engage- ment ; and, on the last day of July, it was resolved to storm a redoubt built close to the water's edge, and within gun-shot of the intrenchments; but, instead of defending it, which must have produced the effect Wolfe expected, the French abandoned it; and thirteen com- panies of our grenadiers, animated by the confusion of the French, from the hot fire kept up by the Centurion, inconsiderately rushed on, without waiting for the dis- embarkation of the rest of the army. This ill-timed impetuosity, and another accident of some boats getting 416 MILITARY HISTORY. aijround off Point Levi, disconcerted the whole plan ; for the grenadiers were repulsed, the French had time to recover from their surprise at this bold attempt, and intelligence was now received, from some prisoners, that general Amherst had taken Niagara and Crown Point, but was obliged to employ all his forces against M. de Burlemaque, who was posted with a strong corps at the lile aus Noix. Thus deprived of all hopes of reinforcement from that quarter, Wolfe returned to his old camp on the other side of the river ; and here disappointment and fatigue threw him into a fever and flux, which reduced him very low. And in this unhappy state of mind and body he despatched an express to England, with an account of his proceedings, but written in the style of a despond- ing man, to which, perhaps, the success of the generals in other parts of America contributed ; as he might think the same good news would be expected from him by the public at home, who had been accustomed to hear of nothing but his conquests. Yet such was the perspi- cuity and accuracy of his justification, that the despatch was received with applause, though the expedition had not been successful. As soon as the general recovered a little strength, be went on board the admiral's ship ; and these two command- ers, with a proper armament, went up the river, passed the town unmolested, and reconnoitred it, in order to j udge if an assault was practicable. Their opinion concurred with that of the chief engineer: they all agreed that such an attack could not be hazarded with any prospect of success; and the next measure taken was, to break up the camp at Montmorenci, as no possibility appeared of attacking the enemy above the town. A resolution was now formed to change the plan of operations; and the three brigadiers advised the general to transport tlie troops in the night, and land them within a league of Cape Diamond, below the town, in hopes of ascending the heights of Abraham, which rise abruptly with a steep ascent from the banks of the river, that they might gain possession of the plain at the back of the city — on that side but weakly fortified. The dangers and difficul- ties of this attempt were so great, that none but such an enterprising general, who was well assured of the affec- tions of his soldiers, would have ventured to propose it to WOLFE. 417 tliem. The veterans of ancient Rome often mutinied upon less hazardous undertakings ; but Wolfe animated his troops by leading them on in person, enfeebled as he was by his distemper. Preparations being made, and the time fixed for this most astonishing attempt, admiral Holmes, with a view of decei\ing the enemy, moved with his squadron higher up the river than the old camp; and this had the desired effect, for his motions were watched till night by a detachmeut of the French, who lined that part of the shore. But in the night, the admiral, pursuant to his instructions, fell down the river to cover the landing of the troops. About one in the morning of the r2th of September, the first embarka- tion, consisting of four complete regiments, the light infantry, commanded by colonel Howe, a detachment of Highlanders, and the American grenadiers, fell gently down the river in flat-bottom boats, under the conduct of brigadiers Monckton and Murray ; but general Wolfe accompanied them, and was among the first who landed. No accident happened, except their over-shooting the in- tended place of landing, owing to the rapidity of the tide. As these troops landed, the boats were sent back for the second embarkation, which was superintended by briga- dier Townshend. In the mean time, colonel Howe, with the light infantry and the Highlanders, ascended the woody precipices with admirable courage and activity ; and dislodged a captain's guard, who defended a small intrenched narrow path, by which alone the other forces could reach the summit. They then mounted without farther molestation ; and general Wolfe drew them up in order of battle as they arrived. The marquis de Montcalm was thunderstruck at the intelligence, that the English had gained the heights of Abraham ; and knowing the weakness of the city on that side, he was at no loss to determine upon a general en- gagement. Advancing therefore with his whole force, in such order of battle as showed a design to flank the English forces on the left, brigadier Townshend, with the regiment of Amherst, was sent to prevent it, by forming his corps en potence, presenting a double front to the enemy. The French were most advantageously posted, with bushes and corn-fields in their front, lined with 1500 of their best marksmen, who began the action ■with an irregular galling fire ; which proved fatal to T 2 418 MILITARY HISTORY. many of our brave officers. At about nine in the morn- ing, the enemy advanced to the charge with great order and resolution, but their fire was irregular and ineffec- tual. On the contrary, the British forces reserved their shot until the French had approached within forty yards of their line; then they poured in a terrible discharge, and continued the fire with the greatest activity and success. The gallant Wolfe was stationed on the right, at the head of Bragg's regiment and the Louisbourg grenadiers, the post of honour, for here the attack was most warm. As he stood conspicuous in the front of the line, he had been aimed at by the enemy's marksmen, and received a shot in the wrist ; but neither pain nor danger could make him retire from his station. Having wrapped a handkerchief round his wrist, he continued giving his orders without emotion, and advanced at the head of the grenadiers, with their bayonets fixed, when another ball pierced his breast, just as the enemy gave way. The wounded general was carried off to a small distance in the rear, where, roused from fainting fits, in the agonies of death, by the loud cry of 'They run ! they run!' he with great eagerness inquired, 'Who run?' and being told the French, and that they were defeated, he added in a faltering voice, ' Then I thank God, I die contented!' and almost instantly expired. Never was a battle fought which did more honour to the officers, and even to the private soldiers of both sides than this. The highest encomiums were bestowed on the marquis de Montcalm, the French general, who was mortally wounded, and who distinguished himself in his last moments by an affectionate regard for his countrymen, in writing a letter to general Townshend, to recommend the French prisoners 'to that generous humanity, by which the British nation has been always distinguished.' His death, which was an irreparable loss to France in America, threw the Canadians into the utmost conster- nation : confusion prevailed in the councils held at Quebec ; and seeing themselves invested by the British fleet, which, after the victory, sailed up in a disposition to attack the lower town, while the upper should be as- saulted by general Townshend, they gave up all for lost, and sent out a flag of truce, with proposals of capitula- tion, which were accepted. It is difficult to describe the emotions of the people WOLFE. 419 when the news of this astonishing success in Canada arrived in England. The melancholy despatch which Wolfe had sent after his disappointment at the falls of Montmorenci, owing to contrary winds, was not received, or at least not made known to the public, till two days before the joyful news of the victory, and the surrender of Quebec, to which was added the mournful sequel of the death of the conqueror of Canada. A mixture of affliction attended the national triumph, and was strongly expressed in the congratulatory addresses, presented by all the corporate bodies and public societies of the three kingdoms to George II. A day of solemn thanksgiving was appointed, and when the parliament assembled, Mr. Pitt, in the House of Commons, made a motion to pre- sent an address, desiring his majesty to order a monu- ment to be erected in Westminster-abbey, to the memory of major-general Wolfe, to which the House agreed unanimously. At the same time, they passed another resolution ; that the thanks of the house should be given to the surviving generals and admirals, employed in the glorious and successful expedition to Quebec. lu his private character, Wolfe, with an unusual live- liness, almost to impetuosity of temper, was not subject to p£usion : with the greatest independency of spirit, he was free from pride. Generous almost to profusion, he contemned every little art for the acquisition of wealth, whilst he searched after objects for his charity and be- neficence : the deserving soldier never went unrewarded, and the needy inferior officers often tasted of his bounty. Constant and discerning in his attachments ; manly and unreserved, yet gentle, kind, and conciliating in his manners ; he enjoyed a large share of the friendship, and almost the universal goodwill, of maiikind ; and, to crown all, sincerity and candour, a true sense of honour, justice, and public liberty, seemed the inherent principles of his nature, and were the uniform rules of his conduct. 420 MILITARY HIS TORY CHAP. XII. Frovt the accession of George J 1 1, to the peace of 1813. The accession of George III. to the crown of Britain ■was accoiupanied by the most favourable auspices. He raiiie to a throne that was encircled with a halo of victory and conquest; his youth and amiableness of character endeared him to the afl'cctions of his subjects; and the Stuart cause, which had occasioned such dis- comfort to his predecessors, was humbled beyond the power of recovery. The war still continued in the East and West Indies, but with such success to the Briti.-:h arms, that one foreign possession after another was wrested from the crowns of France and Spain, and added to the number of our colonies. But a melancholy counterpoise occurred in the midst of these successes abroad that was almost tantamount to a national dis- memberment. This was the revolt of our American colonies, and their establishment into an independent state, an event in our modern military history demand- ing particular attention. For some time a spirit of impatience and indignation had been exhibited by the Americans on account of the taxes inflicted on them by the British parliament. These were not only sufficiently heavy in themselves, but oppressively levied by our naval officers, who had been converted for the occasion into excisemen. In consequence of these severities, the colonists, who saw their trade diminishing under such pernicious restric- tions, first began to remonstrate ; and when their appeals were disregarded, they then proceeded to agitate the question, whether the British parliament had actiially the right to tax unrepresented communities like them- selves. The stamp-act, which formed the heaviest griev- ance of the Americans, was indeed repealed in 17G5, and nothing remained but a trifling tax on tea ; bnt it was the principle of taxation to which they were opposed, and not a mere question of pence and farthings. In such a state the slightest spark was sufficient to kindle the beacon of national contention. A cargo of tea had entered" the harbour of Boston in 1774, and was ready to be landed ; but the ships were boarded unexpectedly by AMERICAN WAR. 421 a niultitude of persons whose appearance and behaviour were much superior to those of a conimon mob, and the tea wa.s thrown without ceremony into the sea, after which tlie insurgents retired without farther violence. The same proceeding was adopted in other places, and the tidin^a reached England with many exaggerations. In a rash hour the ministry determined to compel the refractory colonists to submission, and four regiments, under the command of general Gage, were ordered to Boston, \ipou which the Americans prepared themselves to repel force with force Not only did they do this, but they pro- ceeded to more decisive measures. Finding that the mother country would be satisfied with nothing short of absolute submission, they bound themselves by a covenant to abstain from all commerce with Britain, and then proceeded to form a general congress, by which their new form of government should be organized, and their resistance conducted. In the beginning of the following year, hostilities were commenced by general Gage, who, on hearing that some military stores were collected at the town of Concord, sent a large body of troops to destroy them. This attempt the country militia opposed, and a skirmish ensued in which they were repulsed. But a more serious en- counter afterwards took place at Lexington, where the king's troops were worsted with some loss. War now commenced in melancholy earnest, and, as is common in such cases, the feeling of hostility was only embit- tered by the relationship that existed between the con- tending parties. The battle of Bunker's Hill followed, in which 2000 British troops were defeated, and would have been destroyed, but for the opportune arrival of general Clinton. The thirteen colonies of America were now united by a federal bond, and the celebrated Washington, a man worth whole armies, was appointed commander in-chief of all the American forces ; after which, instead of remaining on the defensive, they pro- ceeded to aggressive measures by an invasion of Canada. Although this attempt was unsuccessful, the Americans impressed their antagonists, during their advance and retreat, with an alarming conviction of their valour and perseverance. But during the campaigns of 1776 and J777, the situation of the colonists was truly critical. I'heir troops were a raw militia, raised for temporary 422 MILITARY HISTORY. service, and unaccustomed to the hardships of regular •warfare, and being dispirited by the unforeseen diffi- culties of their new situation, they often left the army in multitudes, so that sometimes not more than 10,000 could be mustered at one time. But on the other hand, the veteran legions of Britain, that had been sent to stibdue their brethren of the colonies, were largely rein- forced both by English I'egiments and German auxili- aries. It was in the midst of these trying difficulties that the high moral energy and commanding talents of Washington were conspicuous. He ably concealed the deficiency of his forces, and confined himself to a war of posts, marches, and surprises, in which he was almost invariably successful. One specimen of his consummate generalship in this kind of warfare it would be ungene- rous to omit. New York being menaced by a British army of 30,000 men, Washington resolved to defend it with little more than half that number of irregulars, most of whom were posted upon Long Island. The approach of the British obliged him to remove these forces to the town, across the East river, at that place above a mile in breadth. Nine thousand men, therefore, with all their baggage and ammunition, were conveyed over the river to New York, in less than thirteen hours, while the British army, which was not a quarter of a mile distant, was kept in utter ignorance of the move- ment. While the American Fabius was thus keeping the British at bay, and successfully procrastinating the war, which of itself was equal to victory, the northern army, consisting of 7000 British and German troops, several swarms of North American savages, and an immense quantity of artillery, was appointed to form a line of communication between New York and Canada. The whole were placed for this important purpose under the command of general Burgoyne ; but that able writer of comedies conducted the aifair to a most tragical con- clusion. After a series of successes at the opening of the drama, his good fortune failed him ; a train of dis- asters followed, and at last he was obliged to capitulate at Saratoga, where his whole army surrendered their arms to the Americans under general Gates. While the colonists were full of triumph at this important conquest, another event occuiTed by which their hopes of success AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE. 423 were increased : tliis was a treaty of amity with France, in wliich the latter kingdom engaged to assist America with her ships and soldiers, in cousequence of which a fleet of twelve sail of the line and four frigates was diispatched from Toulon under admiral d'Estaign. These entered the Delaware in the beginning of July (1778), but the campaigns of this and the two following years, in spite of such assistance, were rather in favour of the British. The spirit of the Americans, however, still showed how the contest would ultimately terminate : not one state, not a town, not even a village, thought for a moment of accepting those conciliatory terms which were held out by the British commissioners. And their magnanimity and perseverance were at last rewarded. In 17S1 the campaign was commenced by an attempt of lord Comwallis,at the head of a strong force, to pene- trate North Carolina, where he hoped to attract the colonists to the royal standard. But instead of allies, he found an armed militia, who encountered him on several occasions, and frequently with success. At length his whole army was completely blocked up in York- town by general Washington, at the head of a com- bined force of Americans and French, and on the ISth of October Cornwallis was obliged to surrender himself and his whole army, to the number of 7000 soldier?. Nothing could exceed the triumph of the Americans on this occasion, except the rage and mortification of the British public, when the tidings arrived in England. It was now perceived that America could not be conquered, while all parties complained with justice of the expense of the war. At the general peace, therefore, which took place between Britain and her various antagonists in 1783, a treaty was entered into with the United States,by which they were recognised as free, sovereign, and indepen- dent. This was an humbling termination for the mother- country, after so much expense of blood and treasure ; but two sources of consolation still remained. If Britain had lost such valuable colonies in the West, she had acquired an empire in the East, superior in wealth and extent to the dominion of Rome in the highest days of her prosperity ; and if our arms had been baffled, it was no foreign enemy, but men of our own blood and spirit, that could boast of the achievement. This general peace was not fated to be lasting. The 424 MILITARY HISTORY. French Revolution occurred, and at the shock of such an earthquake Britain started in dismay ; but instead of looking oil from her sea-girt bulwark in calm neutrality, as she had done at the partition of Poland, she caught the general panic and rushed headlong into the encoun- ter. On the llth of February, 1793, war with France ■was declared by a royal message to the two houses of parliament, and the duke of York was sent with a British army to join the general continental alliance, which consisted of Austria, Prussia, Holland, Spain, Sardinia, and the Sicilies. Britain, however, had no great cause to exult in her share of this wholesale warfare. The duke of York, whose army was joined by the Hano- verian, Dutch, and Hessian forces, commenced the siege of Dunkirk on the 24th of August; but he was defeated in two engagements by the garrison, and compelled to raise the siege so precipitately, as to leave his heavy artillery behind. Toulon, which held out for the royal cause, was invested by the republicans, and notwith- standing the resistance of its English garrison had at last to be evacuated. Matters were still worse during the subsequent campaigns, in which the British troops largely shared in those disasters and defeats that suc- cessively befell every member of the coalition. It was only upon the sea that our arms were successful, and the exertions of our fleets were crowned with a rich harvest of victories and colonial conquests. At length, by the treaty of Campo Formio, the great alliance against France was broken, and Britain was left to maintain the contest single-handed. Bonaparte, who was now the great hero of the war, having successfully disengaged himself from his baffled antagonists, announced his favourite project of invading Britain in turn, and nume- rous forces were assembled upon the French coast, under the title of the ' army of England.' But it was soon found that all these preparations were designed for the inva- sion of Britain in India, as a preliminary to -which, the army was suddenly embarked for the conquest of Egypt. The great battle, therefore, between France and Eng- land, was fought on the plains of the Pharaohs and Pto- lemys, and victory crowned the heroic efforts of Nelson, Sir Sidney Smith, Abercromby, and Hutchinson. Bona- parte, however, on his return from Egypt, soon placed France in a more formidable position than ever, and WAR WITH FRANCE. 425 haviuj ajaiii beaten the different powers by which it had been assailed during his absence, he dictated to them the terras of peace. After this followed the treaty of Amiens, on March 2rth, 1S02, by which peace was established between France and England, upon the lat- ter foregoing all the colonies which she had taken during the war. It has been complacently observed by a class of British writers upon this subject, that no honour was lost to our country by this treaty ; but it seems equally certain that none was gained by it. But be that as it may, the peace of Amiens proved scarcely a breathing truce, and the occupation of Malta soon furnished a new argument for contest. The British were bound by the treaty to evacuate it, after which it was to be held by a Neapolitan garrison, until the Maltese knights were strong enough to occupy and defend it; but Bonaparte, it has been alleged, was desii'ous of securing this island to himself as a stepping-stone to the reconquest of Egypt. War with France was accordingly proclaimed by George III., on the 18th of May, 1S03, and a contest commenced, which the generations of Europe yet unborn will have cause to execrate and deplore. As two such powers as France and England cannot join in conflict alone, on account of the derangement produced in the balance of Europe by the shock of such an encounter, a third coalition of the European powers against France was formed in 1S05. In the mean time Bonaparte had resumed his measures for the invasion of England, and assembled the flower of his troops upon the coast, while an immense flotilla lay at Boulogne ready to waft them over. But, as in the case of Egypt, his army was suddenly called away to a diSerent desti- nation. He collected his troops and rushed to the Danube, gained the battle of Austerlitz, and thus laid Austria prostrate, and reduced Prussia and Russia to a state of helplessness. He then, by treaty with the em- peror of Germany, became the master of all Italy, except the Neapolitan dominions, which, however, soon shared the fate of the rest. But amidst all this triumph and success he was compelled to feel that a power was arrayed against him, before which his victories stood rebuked. This was the British navy, which still con- tinued its career of conquest, and the battle of Trafalgar was a blow, from which the French marine, even under 426 MILITARY HISTORY, the administration of Bonaparte, was uerer able to re- cover. In this hasty summary we must now pass over the remainder of the long war, the principal events of which, however, will be found in the lives of those distinguished individuals by whom it was so nobly conducted on the part of Britain. The battle of Waterloo was the last stake of the great Napoleon, and after this had failed, nothing remained for him but flight or surrender. But the coast was so closely watched by the British cruizers, that the first alternative was denied, and after having vainly lingered for a short time at Rochefoit in the hope of escaping to America, he resolved to throw himself upon the generosity and protection of Britain. la what man- ner this confidence was rewarded is an event too univer- sally and permanently chronicled to require repetition here. With the departure of Bonaparte, all grounds of contention between France and Europe disappeared, and therefore, after a war unexampled perhaps in the history of the world for magnitude and importance, treaties and conventions of peace between the different powei's were signed at Paris, on the 20th of November, 1815. When the combined nations had thus overpowered and disarmed their dreaded enemy, they retired, like men who had been exhausted by a struggle in which existence itself rather than victory has been at stake. They had hied in every vein, and many a deep wound bad to be healed before they could resume their weapons for fresh rivalries and aggressions. A war of diplomacy has therefore succeeded that of force, and protocols have become the ' cheap defence ' of those nations w hich pre- vious exertions have reduced to a state of bankruptcy. But will this unprecedented tranquillity be lasting 1 Such a desirable consummation is not yet to be expected. Society as yet has not been so taught and purified by past sufferings, as to be convinced of the injustice of aggression, and of the worthlessness of mere military glory, and therefore the nations that begin to recover from their exhaustion have also resumed that spirit in which wars invariably originate. The grasping and absorbing policy of Russia — the French aims of occupa- tion in Africa — the wrongs of unhappy Poland still unredressed, but awaiting in hope the moment of their retribution— the nightmare despotism of Austria— the CLH E. 427 sreneral jealousy entertained ag-aiust Britain, and the f Jieign fleets that are mustering to dispute with her the empire of the ocean — these are ominous sig-ns of the times ■which the most careless eye can read. And more than all these causes combined, is that universal impatience of coercion, that open antagonism between the ruled and their rulers, so prevalent a characteristic of the present age, and by which all Europe has been rent into two rival and hostile factions, armed and ready for the con- flict. The roots of the felled upas tree have shot forth bj-anches to overshadow the vine and the olive which the present generation has cultivated, and thus we may be yet fated to gather in sorrow what we have planted in hope. And when then shall peace become triumph- ant on earth ? It is only when national ambition and selfishness, the oppression of tyrants and the dishonesty of statesmen, are no longer tolerated, that war will be- come unpopular ; and men vnl\ cease to be warriors, when they cease to be unjust. ROBERT CLIVE, BARON OF PLASSEr. Robert Clive was bom at Styche, in the parish of Moreton-Say, near Market Drayton, in Shropshire, ou the 29th of September, 1725. His father, Richard Clive, inherited the estate of Styche, the ancient possession of his family ; but thinking the income, which scarcely ex- ceeded £'500. a year, too small a provision, he followed the business of the law. In his early youth, Robert Clive was sent to a private school, which was kept by Dr. Eaton, of Lostock, in Cheshire. The doctor observed that, in courage and sagacity, he far surpassed his fel- lows, and discerned in the schoolboy the character of the future hero. ' If,' said he, ' that lad should live to be a man, and an opportunity be given for the exertion of his talents, few names will be greater than his.' From this school, at the age of eleven, he was removed ta another at .Market Drayton. In that town stands, on 428 MILITARY HISTORY. the edge of a high hill, an ancient gothic church, from the lofty steeple of which, at the distance of a few feet from the top, projects an old stone spout, in the form of a dragon's head. On this head he once seated himself, to the great astonishment and terror of his school- fellows who were gazing from below. In 1743, Clive was appointed a writer in the ser- vice of the East India company, and arrived at Madras in the following year. The same dislike to the drudgery of the desk, the same impatience of control, which distinguished him at school, still marked his character, and rendered his appointment as troublesome to his superiors, as it was irksome to himself. On one occa- sion, his conduct to the secretary, under whom the writers are placed, was so inconsistent with proper sub- ordination, that the governor commanded him to ask the secretary's pardon. The submission was made in terms of extreme contempt ; but the secretary received it graciously, and invited bim to dinner. • No, sir,' replied Clive, * the governor did not command me to dine with you.' On the surrender of Madras to the French admiral, M. de la Bourdonnais, in September, 1746, the com- pany's servants became prisoners on parole. But as M. Dupleix, who was commander-in-chief of the French forces in India, refused to ratify the treaty, and made the English prisoners to the town, the English, on their part, considered their engagement to Boui-dounais as broken, and thought themselves at liberty to make their escape. Accordingly, Clive, disguised as a Moor, and a few others, escaped to St. David's, which lies on the same coast, at the distance of twenty-one miles to the south. Soon after his arrival, he happened to be engaged in a party at cards, with two ensigns, who were detected in cheating the rest of the company. The ensigns had won large sums, which the losers re- fused to pay ; but the threats of the two gamblers soon intimidated all but Clive, who still persisted in his refusal. A challenge followed, and Clive delivered his fire ; but his antagonist reserved his, and, quitting bis ground, presented the pistol at Olive's head, and bade him ask his life. After some hesitation, Clive complied ; but his antagonist telling him he must also recant the expressions he had used, and promise pay- CLIVE. 429 ment of the money, otherwise he would fire — ' Fire, and be d d,' said Clive ; ' I said you cheated ; I say so still, nor will I ever pay you.' The ensign, finding that all remonstrances were vain, called him a madman, and threw away the pistol. When Clive was complimented by his friends upon his behaviour on this occasion, he made the following remark : 'The man has given me my life, and I have no right in future to mention his behaviour at the card table, although I will never pay him, nor ever keep him company.' In other contests with some of his brother officers, Clive also displayed the same in- trepidity. In 1747, being disgusted with his former situation at Madras, and weary of an idle life at St. David's, Clive solicited and obtained a commission in the mili- tary service. The events of the years 1747 and 1748 gave him few opportunities of exerting his talents; yet even in those few he exhibited such proofs of an ardent, iuflexible mind, as raised the admiration of the tioops. The season for military operations being over, the army remained inactive at St. David's; and the treaty of Aix- la-Chapelle being afterwards concluded, lieutenant Clive returned to the civil establishment, and was admitted to the same rank as that which he would have held if he had never quitted the civil service. The state of the company's affairs now urgently re- quiring it, Clive resumed the military character. Hav- ing obtained a captain's commission, he undertook to conduct a detachment into the province of Arcot ; and accordingly began his march at the head of 210 Euro- peans, with 500 sepoys. Such was the resolution, secrecy, and despatch, with which captain Clive con- ducted this enterprise, that the enemy knew nothing of his motions until he was in possession of the capital, which he took without opposition. The inhabitants, ex- pecting to be plundered, offered him a large sum to spare their city; but they knew not the generosity and discre- tion of the conqueror. He refused the proffered ransom, and proclaimed that those who were willing to remain should be protected from insult and injury, and the rest have leave to retire with all their effects, except pro- visions, for which he promised to pay the full value. By this conduct he so conciliated the affectious of the 430 MILITARY HISTORY people, that even those who quitted the place supplied him with exact iutelligence of the enemy's desijrus. The town was in a little time invested by Raja Saib, son of Chunda Saib, at the head of a numerous army ; and the operations of the siege were conducted by European engineers. Though their approaches were re- tarded by tlie resolute sallies of the English, they at length effected two breaches, supposed to be practicable ; and on the 14th of October, 1751, they gave a general assault. Clive having received intimation of their de- sign, made such preparations that they were repulsed in every quarter with great loss, and obliged to raise the siege. Not contented, however, with this noble defence, he was no sooner reinforced than he marched in pursuit of the enemy, whom he overtook, in the plains of Aranie. There, on the 3rd of December, he attacked them with irresistible impetuosity; and, after an obstinate dispute, obtained a complete victory. The forts of Timery, Cau- jeveram, and Aranie, surrendered to the terror of his name, and he returned to fort St. David in triumph. He had enjoyed a very few weeks of repose, when he was summoned to the field by fresh incursions of the enemy. In the beginning of 1752, therefore, he marched with a small detachment to Madras, where he was joined by a reinforcement from Bengal, the ■whole number not exceeding 300 Europeans, and a body of the natives. With these he proceeded to Koveripauk, about tifteen miles from Arcot, where he found the French and Indians, consisting of 1500 sepoys, 1700 horse, a reinforcement of natives, and 150 Europeans, with eight pieces of cannon. Though they were advantage- ously posted and entrenched, and the day was already far advanced, Clive advanced against them with his usual intrepidity; but the victory remained some tiine in suspense. It was now dark and the battle was still doubtful, when Clive sent round a detachment to fall on the rear of the French battery. This attack was ex- ecuted with great resolution, while the English in front entered the entrenchments with fixed bayonets. This double onset so disconcerted the enemy that they soon gave way, and a considerable carnage ensued ; but the greater part saved themselves by flight under cover of the darkness. The French, to a man, threw down CLIVE. 431 their arms, and surrendered tliemselves prisoners of war ; and all the cannon and baggage fell into the hands of the victor. The province of Arcot being thus cleared, Clive returned to fort St. David, where he found major Laurence just anived from England, to take upon him the command of the company's troops. On the 18tb of March, this officer, accompanied by Clive, took the field, and was joined by captain Gingen, at Trichinopoly. From hence he detached Clive, with 400 European sol- diers, a few Mahratta horse, and a body of sepoys, to cut ofl' the enemy's retreat to PondicheiTy. In the course of this expedition he dislodged a strong body of the foe posted at Samiaveram, and obliged Chunda Saib to throw a body of troops into a strongly fortified pagoda upon the river Koleroon, which was immediately in- Tested. The commanding officer in attempting to escape was slain with some others, and the rest sun-eudered at discretion. They" were still in possession of another fortified temple, which he also besieged in form, and reduced by capitulation. Having subdued these forts, he marched directly to Volconda, whither he understood the French commander D'Auteuil had retired. He found that officer entrenched in a village, from whence he drove him with precipitation, and made himself master of the French cannon. The enemy attempted to save themselves in a neighbouring fort; but the gates being shut against them by the governor, who was apprehen- sive that they would be followed pell-mell by the Eng- lish, captain Clive attacked them with great fury, and made a considerable slaughter; but his humanity being shocked at this carnage, he sent a flag of truce to the vanquished, with terms of capitulation, which were readily embraced. These articles imported that D'Au- teuil and three other officers should remain prisoners on parole for one year ; that the garrison should be ex- changed, and the money and stores be delivered to the nabob whom the English supported. After these services, captain Clive returned to England, where he was solicited by the directors of the East India Company to accept the appointment of go\ernor of fort St. David, with a right of succession to the government of Madras ; and as he expressed his willingness to serve them, they procured for him the commission of lieu- 432 MILITARY HISTORY. tenant-colonel in the royal service, with the cominand of three companies of the royal artillery, and some hundreds of the kinii's troops. With this force he was ordered to join the Mahrattas on the coast of Hindostan, and attack the French, whose power was at that time extremely formidable to the Eng^lish East India Com- pany'. He found on his arrival at Bombay, that hostilities had ended between the English and French in India, upon which he formed a scheme of employing- the English forces, in conjunction with the Mahrattas, against Angria, a very foi-midable neighbouring pirate, whose frequent depredations were iiijurious to the English settlements. Having communicated his plan to admiral Watson, that officer readily concurred in it ; and accordingly, on the 7th of February, 1756, he proceeded with a division of ships, having on board a body of troops commanded by colonel Clive, to Geriah, the capital of Angria's domi- nions. They found in the neighbourhood of Geriah the Mahratta fleet, consisting of four grabs, and forty smaller Tessels called gallivats, lying to the northward of the place, in a creek called Rajiporc, and a land army of horse and foot amounting to 7000 or 8000 men, the whole commanded by Rhamagee Punt, who had already taken one small fort, and was actually treating about the surrender of Geriah. Angria himself had quitted the place, but his wife and family remained under the pro- tection of his brother-in-law ; who, on being summoned to surrender, replied, that he would defend the place to the last extremity. The whole English fleet, therefore, sailed into the harbour and sustained a warm lire, which, however, was soon silenced after the ships were brought to their stations. A shell being thrown into one of An- gria's armed vessels set her on fire ; the flames commu- nicating to the rest, they were all destroyed : between six and seven, the fort was set on fire by another shell, and soon after the firing ceased on both sides. The ad- miral suspecting that the governor would surrender it to the Mahrattas rather than to the English, disembarked all the troops under Clive, that he might be at hand to take possession. In the mean time the fort was bom- barded, the line of battle ships were warped near enough to batter in breach, and then the admiral sent a flag of truce to the governor, requiring him to sunender ; but his proposal being again rejected, the English ships CLIVE. 433 renewed their fire next day with redoubled vigonr. About one o'clock the magazine of the foit blew up ; and at four the garrison huug out a white flag for capi- tulation. The parley that ensued proved ineffectual ; the engagement began again, and continued till fifteen minutes after five, when the white flag was once more displayed, and now the governor submitted to the terms •which were imposed. Angria's flag was immediately hauled down, and two English captains, taking possession of the fort with a detachment, forthwith hoisted the British ensign. To these captains, whose names were Buchanan and Forbes, the Mahrattas offered a bribe of 50,000 rupees if they would allow them to pass their guard, that they might take possession of the fort for themselves ; but this offer was rejected with disdain, and immediately disclosed to colonel Clive, who took effectual measures to frustrate their design. In this place, which was reduced with very inconsiderable loss, the cont^uerors found above 200 cannon, six brass mor- tars, a large quantity of ammunition, and money and effects to the value of £130,000. The fleet which was destroyed consisted of eight grabs, one ship finished, two upon the stocks, and a good number of gallivats. Among the prisoners, the admiral found Angria's wife, children, and mother, towards whom he demeaned him- self with great humanity. Three hundred European sol- diers and as many sepoys were left to guard the fort ; and four of the company's armed vessels remained in the harbour for the defence of the place, which was admirably situated for commerce. After this, colonel Clive sailed for fort St. David, but his stay there was short ; for Calcutta being taken by the nabob of Bengal, he was summoned to Madras, where he was appointed to the command of the troops which were sent to the relief of the English in Bengal. He embarked on board admiral Watson's squadron, having with him 1200 sepoys and 750 Europeans, 250 of whom were in the king's service. They arrived in Ballasor road on the 2.3th of December ; and the next day Clive landed, and in twenty-four hours made him- self master of Bulbudgia, a place of great strength. On the 1st of January, the admiral with two ships ap- peared before Calcutta, and was received by a brisk fire from the batteries ; but their guns were soon silenced, U 4ai MILITARY HISTORY. and in less than two hours the place and fort were abandoned. Colonel Clive, on the other side, had in- vested the town, and made his attack, with that vigour and intrepidity peculiar to himself, which greatly con- tributed to the sudden reduction of the settlement. As soon as the fort was surrendered, the brave captain Coote took possession, and found niuety-one pieces of cannon, four mortars, abundance of ammunition, stores, and provisions, and every requisite for sustaining a long siege. Thus the English were re-established in the two strongest fortresses on the Ganges, with the inconsider- able loss of nine seamen and three soldiers. A few days after, Hoogly, a city of great trade, situated higher up the river, was reduced with as little difficulty, but infinitely greater prejudice to the nabob, as here his storehouses of salt, and vast granaries for the support of his army, were destroyed. Incensed at the almost in- stantaneous loss of all his conquests, and demolition of the city of Hoogly, the viceroy discouraged all ad- vances to an accommodation ; he assembled an army of 20,000 horse and 15,000 foot, fully resolved to expel the English out of his dominions, and was seen marching by the English camp in his way to Calcutta on the 2d of February, where he encamped about a mile from the town. Colonel Clive immediately applied to the admiral for a reinforcement ; and COO men were drafted from the different ships, and sent to assist his little army. Clive drew out his forces, advanced in three columns towards the enemy, and began the attack so vigorously that the viceroy retreated, after a feeble resistance, with the loss of 1000 men and four elephants. Though this advantage was less decisive than could be wished, yet admiral Watson gave the nabob to understand that this was uo more than a specimen of what the British arms, when provoked, could perform. A treaty highly advan- tageous to the English honour and interests was the consequence, in which the nabob made every reparation for past injuries, and agreed to respect the rights and privileges of the company. The admiral and Clive afterwards resolved to avail themselves of their armament in attacking the French settlements in Bengal. Their chief object was the re- duction of Chandernagore, situated higher up the river than Calcutta, and of considerable strength, Clive CLIVE. 43.5 being reinforced from Bombay, began his march to Chaudernagore, at the head of 700 Europeans and 1600 Indians, where, on his first arrival, he took posjiession of all the outposts, except one redoubt, mounted with eight pieces of cannon, which he left to be silenced by the admiral. On the 18th of March, the admirals Watson and Pococke arrived within two miles of the French settlement with three men of war, and found their pas- sage obstructed by booms laid across the river, and se- veral vessels sunk in the channel. These difficulties being removed, they advanced early on the 24th, and drew up in a line before the fort, which they battered with great fury for three hours, while colonel Clive was making his approaches on the land side, and playing vigorously from the batteries he had raised. Their united efforts soon obliged the enemy to submission. A flag of truce was waved over the walls, and the place surrendered by capitulation. Thus the reduction of a .strong fortress, garrisoned by 500 Europeans and 1200 Indians, defended by 123 pieces of cannon and three mortars, well provided with all kinds of stores and ne- cessaries, and of very great importance to the enemy's commerce in India, was accomplished with a loss not exceeding forty men on the side of the conquerors. By the capitulation, the director, coun^e^o^s, and inferior servants of the settlement, were allowed to depart with their wearing apparel : the Jesuits were permitted to take away their church ornaments, and the natives to remain in the full enjoyment of their liberties ; but the garrison were to continue prisoners of war. The goods and money found in the place were considerable ; but the principal advantages arose from the ruin of the head settlement of the enemy on the Gauges, -which could not but interfere with the English commerce in that quarter. Success had hitherto attended the operations of the British commanders, because they were concerted with foresight and unanimity, and executed with vigour. They reduced the Yiabob to reasonable terms of accom- modation before they alarmed the French ; and now that the power of the latter was destroyed, they resolved to compel the former to a sti'ict performance of the treaty he had so lately signed. However specious his promises were, they found him extremely dilatory in the execu- 436 MILITARY HISTORY. tion of several articles, so that the English commerce Buffered as if no treaty had been concluded. In fact, he discovered all along a manifest partiality to the French, whose emissaries cajoled him with promises that he should he joined by such a body of their European troops, under M. de Bussy, as would enable him to crush the power of the English, whom they had taught him to fear and to hate. As recommencing hostilities against so powerful a prince was in itself dangerous, and, if pos- sible, to be avoided, the affair was laid before the council of Calcutta, and canvassed with all the circumspection a measure required, on which depended the fate of the whole trade of Bengal. During these deliberations a most fortunate incident occurred, that soon determined the council to come to an open rupture. The leading persons in the viceroy's court found themselves oppressed by his haughtiness, and their discontent was shared by the principal officers of his army, who were sensible that the peace of the country could never be restored, unless either the English were expelled, or the nabob deposed. A plan was therefore concerted for divesting him of all his power ; and the conspiracy was conducted by Jaflier Ali Khan, his prime minister and chief commander, a nobleman of great influence and authority in tlie pro- vince. The project was communicated by Ali to Mr. Watts, the English resident at the nabob's court, and so improved by the address of that gentleman as to ensure success. A treaty was actually conchided between Jaflier Ali and the English company ; and a plan concerted with him and the other malcontents for their defection from the viceroy. These previous measures being taken, colonel Clive was ordered to take the field with his little army. Admiral Watson undertook the defence of Chan- dernagore ; and the garrison was detached to reinforce the colonel, together with fifty seamen to be employed as gunners, and in directing the artillery. Then Mr. Watts, deceiving the suba's spies, by whom he was sur- rounded, withdrew himself from Muxadavad, and reached the English camp in safety. On the 19th of June a de- tachment was sent to attack Cutwa fort and town, situ- ated on that branch of the river forming the island Cassimbuzar. This place surrendered at the first sum- mons ; and here the colonel halted with the army for three days, expecting advices from Ali Khan. Disap- CLIVE. 437 pointed in this he crossed the river and marched to Plassey, where he encamped. On the 23rd, at daybreak, the suba advanced to attack him, at the head of 15,000 horse, and nearly 30,000 infantry, with about forty pieces of heavy cannon, conducted and managed by French gunners, on whose courage and dexterity he placed great dependance. They began to cannonade the Eng- lish camp about six in the morning, but a severe shower falling at noon they withdrew their artillery. Colonel Clive seized this opportunity to take possession of a tank and two other posts of consequence, which they in Tain endeavoured to recapture. Then he stormed an angle of their camp, covered with a double breastwork, together with an eminence which they occupied. At the begin- ning of this attack, some of their chiefs being slain, the men were so dispirited that they soon gave way ; but still Jaffier Ali, who commanded their left wing, for- bore to declare himself. After a short contest the enemy were put to flight, the nabob's camp, baggage, and fifty pieces of cannon, were taken, and a most complete vic- tory obtained. The colonel pursuing his advantage, marched to Muxadavad, the capital of the province, and ■was there joined by Ali Khan and the malcontents. It was before concerted that this nobleman should be in- vested with the dignity of nabob; accordingly the colonel proceeded solemnly to depose Surajah Dowlat, and, with the same ceremony, to substitute Ali Khau in his room, who was publicly acknowledged by the people as suba, or viceroy, of the provinces of Bengal, Bahar, and Orixa. Soon after the late viceroy was taken and put to death by his successor, who readily complied with all the con- ditions of his elevation. He conferred on his allies very liberal rewards, and granted the company such extraor- dinary privileges as fully demonstrated how highly he valued their assistance. By this alliance, and the re- duction of Chandernagore, the French were entirely excluded from the commerce of Bengal and its depen- dencies ; the trade of the English company was restored, and increased beyond their most sanguine hopes ; a new ally was acquired, whose interest obliged him to remain firm to his engagements ; a vast sum was paid to the company and the sufferers at Calcutta, to indemnify them for their losses ; the soldiers and seamen were gratified with £600,000. as a reward for their courage 458 MILITARY HISTORY. and intrepidity ; and a variety of other advantages gained, which it -would be unnecessary to enumerate. In a word, in the space of fourteen days a great revolu- tion was eflfected, and the government of a vast country, superior in wealth, fertility, extent, and number of in- habitants, to most European kingdoms, was transferred by a handful of troops, conducted by an officer untutored in the art of war, a general rather by intuition tbau instruction and experience. The immense acquisition of territory which was made by the English East India Company, was chiefly owing to the courage and conduct of Clive ; but the means employed to acquire it we shall not attempt to vindicate. It has been observed, that * whoever contemplates the forlorn situation of the com- pany when Clive first arrived at Calcutta, in the year 1756, and then considers the degree of opulence and power they possessed when he finally left that place, will be convinced that the history of the world has sel- dom afforded an instance of so rapid and improbable a change. At the first period, they were merely an asso- ciation of merchants, struggling for existence. One of their factories was in ruins, their agents were murdered, and an army of 50,000 men, to which they had nothing to oppose, threatened the immediate destruction of their principal settlement. At the last period, distant from the first but ten years, they were become powerful princes, possessed of vast revenues, and ruling over 15,000,000 of people.' It appears that the nabob Meer Jaffier, after the former nabob had been deposed, made Clive a present of £210,000. He also prevailed on the great mogul (who at that time was a prisoner of state in Delhi, but who was still con- sidered as the fountain of honours) to confer on Clive the dignity of Omrah, or noble of the empire ; and the grant of a revenue of £28,000 per annum. Clive returned to England in 1760, where his conduct and exploits received the warmest commendations from the East India Com- pany ; and in the following year the king conferred on him the title of baron in the kingdom of Ireland, by the title of Lord Clive, baron Plassey, in the county of Clare. Some time after the return of Clive to England, the English deposed the nabob Meer Jaffier, and transferred the government to his son-in-law, Cossim Ali Khan. But the new nabob making some opposition to the various CLIVE. 439 kinds of injustice and oppression practised by the servants of the English East India Company, they deposed Cossim Ali Khan, and reinstated Meer Jaffier in the nabobship. The misconduct of the Company's servants at length occasioned such disorders, that lord Clive and four of his friends were commissioned to go to India to adjust all disputes with the country powers, and reform the pre- vailing abuses. They arrived at Calcutta in May, 1765, ■where they made a treaty with the native princes, and established some regulations beneficial to the East India Company; bat the natives still suffered great injustice and oppression from its servants. Lord Clive returned to England in July, 1767, and was made a knight of the Bath in 1769. It should also be observed that he repre- sented in parliament, from the year 1760 to the time of his decease, the borough of Shrewsbury, the principal town of the county in which he was bom. But on the 2lst of February, 1773, a motion was made in the House of Commons, to resolve, ' That, in the acquisition of his ■wealth, lord Clive had abused the powers with which he was intrusted.' He defended himself, if not satisfac- torily, at least with great ability ; and the House of Commons rejected the motion, and resolved, * That lord Clive had rendered great and meritorious services to his country.' His lordship was a striking instance of the inefficacy of honours and wealth to confer happiness. After his re- turn to England, though possessed of a splendid fortune and high reputation, he often discovered great uneasi- ness of mind, and could not endure to be alone. His friends represented this as the result of a depression of spirits, occasioned by a nervous fever ; but by others it was attributed to causes of a very different kind. He put an end to his own life on the 2-2d of November, 1774, when he was not quite fifty years of age. He was inteiTed at Moretou-Say, the parish in which he vvas born. He 'eft two sons and three daughters. His eldest son, Ed- ward, succeeded him in his title and estate. It is said that lord Clive gave away much money in acts of bene- volence ; and he made, at one time, a present of £70,000, as a provision for the invalids of the servants of the East India Company. 440 MILITARY HISTORY. GEORGE AUGUSTUS ELLIOTT, LORD HEATHFIELD. This distinguished officer was the youngest of the nine sons of Sir Gilbert Elliott, of Stobbs, in Roxburghshire ; and was born in the year 1718. He received the first rudiments of his education under a private tutor re- tained at the family seat. At an early age he was sent to the university of Leyden, where he made a rapid progress in classical learning, and spoke with elegance and fluency the German and French languages. Being designed for a military life, he was sent from thence to the celebrated Ecole Royale du genie militairc, at La Fere in Picardy. This school was rendered the most famous in Europe by means of the great Vauban, under whom it was conducted. Here it was that the founda- tion was laid of that knowledge of tactics in all its branches, and particularly in the arts of engineering and fortification, which so greatly distinguished this officer. He completed his military course on the con- tinent by a tour, for the purpose of seeing in practice ■what he had been studying in theory. Prussia was the model for discipline, and he continued for some time as a volunteer in this service. Such were the steps taken by the young men of fashion in that day to accomplish themselves for the service of their country. Many of his contemporaries were then similarly engaged, nobly abandoning the enjoyment of ease and luxury at home for the opportunity of seeing actual service. iSIr. Elliott returned in his seventeenth year to his native country, Scotland, and was in the same year (1735) introduced by his father. Sir Gilbert, to lieutenant- colonel Peers, of the 23d regiment of foot, or royal Welsh fuzileers, then lying in Edinburgh. Sir Gilbert presented him as a youth anxious to bear arms for his king and country. He was accordingly entered as a volunteer in that regiment, where he continued for a twelvemonth. From the 23d he went into the en- gineer corps at Woolwich, and made great progress in military science, until his uncle, colonel Elliott, brought him in as adjutant of the 2d troop of horse ELLIOTT. 441 grenadiers. In this situation he conducted himself with the most exemplary attention, and laid the foundation of that discipline which rendered those two troops the finest corps of heavy cavalry in Europe. With these troops he went upon service to Germany, where he was with them in a variety of actions, and at the battle of Dettin^en he was wounded. In this regiment he first bought the rank of captain and major ; and afterwards purchased the lieutenant-colonelcy from colonel Brewerton, who succeeded to his uncle. Oa arriving at this rank he resigned his commission as an engineer, which he had hitherto enjoyed, and in which service he had been actively employed very much to the advantage of his country. He had re- ceived the instructions of the famous engineer Bellidor, and made himself completely master of the science of gixnnery. Had he not so disinterestedly resigned his rank in the engineer department, he would soon, by regular progression, have been at the head of that corps. Soon after this he was appointed aide-de camp to George II. ; and was already distinguished for his military skill and discipline. In the year 1759 he quitted the 2d troop of horse grenadier guards, being selected to raise, form, and discipline, the first regiment of light-horse, called after him, Elliott's. As soon as they were raised and formed, he was appointed to the command of the cavalry in the expedition to the coast of France, with the rank of bi-igadier-general ; and after this he passed into Germany, where he was employed on the staff, and greatly distinguished himself in a variety of move- ments, while his regiment displayed a strictness of dis- cipline, an activity, and enterprise, which gained them signal honour. From Germany he was recalled for the purpose of being employed as second in command of the me- morable expedition against the Havannah. It was pos- sible to find an officer in the sunshine of the court, to whom, under the patronage of a prince, the trappings of the chief command might be given ; but an Elliott was wanted to act as well as an Albemarle to shine; and for him they must go to the dusty plains of Germany. The circumstances of that conquest are well known. It seems as if our brave veteran had always in his eye the gallant Lewis de Velasco, who maintained his static U 2 442 MILITARY HISTORY. to the last extremity, and when his garrison were flying from his side, or falling at his feet, disdained to retire or call for quarter, but fell gloriously, wielding his sword against his conquerors. On the peace, in 1763, his gallant regiment was re- Tie wed by his majesty, in Hyde Park, when they pre- sented to the king the standards which they had taken from the enemy. The king, pleased with their high character, asked general Elliott what mark of favour he could bestow on his regiment equal to their merit. He answered, that his regiment would be proud if his majesty should think that by their services they were entitled to the distinction of ' Royals.' It was accord- ingly made a royal regiment with this flattering title, 'The 15th, or king's royal regiment of light dragoons.' At the same time the king expressed a desire to confer a mark of his favour on the brave general ; but he de- clared that the honour and satisfaction of his majesty's approbation of his services was his best reward. During the peace, Elliott was not idle. His great talents in the curious branches of military science gave him ample employment ; and in the year 1775, he was appointed to succeed general A'Court, as commander in- chief of the forces in Ireland. But he did not continue long in this station ; not even long enough to unpack all his trunks ; for finding that interferences were made by petty authority derogatory of his own, he resisted the practice with becoming spirit; and not choosing to disturb the government of the sister kingdom on a per- sonal affair, he solicited to be recalled, which was granted, and he was appointed to the command of Gibraltar, in a fortunate hour for the safety of that important fortress. The habits of his life, as well as his education, peculi- arly qualified him for this trust. His singular tem- perance and manners were thus described by one of his contemporaries: — 'He is perhaps the most abstemious man of the age. His food is vegetables, and his drink water; he neither indulges himself in animal food, nor wine ; he never sleeps more than four hours at a time ; 80 that he is up later and earlier than most other men : he has so inured himself to habits of hardiness, that things which are difficult and painful to other men, are to him his daily practice, and are rendered pleasant by use.' It could not be easy to starve such a man into a sur- ELLIOTT. 443 render, nor easy to surprise him. His wants were easily supplied, and his watchfulness was beyond precedent. The example of the commander-in-chief in a besieged garrison has a most persuasive efficacy in forming the manners of the soldiery. Like him his brave followers came to regulate their lives by the most strict rules of discipline, before there arose a necessity for so doing ; and severe exercise with short diet became habitual to them by their own choice. The military system of dis- cipline which he introduced, and the preparations which he made for defence, were contrived with so much judg- ment, and executed with so much address, that he was able with a handful of men to preserve his post against an attack, the constancy of which, even without the vi- gour, would have been sufficient to exhaust any common set of men. Collected within himself, he in no instance destroyed by premature attacks the labours which had cost the enemy time, patience, and expense, to complete ; he deliberately observed their approaches, and seized on the proper moment with the keenest perception in which to make his attack with success. He never spent his ammunition in useless parade, or in unimportant annoy- ances. He never relaxed from his discipline by the appearance of security, or hazarded the lives of the gar- rison by wild experiments. But by a cool and temperate demeanour he maintained his station for three years of constant investment, in which all the powers of Spain were employed. The eyes of all Europe were at that time fixed upon his gan-ison, and his conduct in his able defence of Gibraltar justly exalted him to a most ele- vated place in the military annals of the age. A few particulars in the history of this memorable siege are worthy of commemoration. At the end of the year 1781, it was judged expedient to carry into ex- ecution an attempt to storm and destroy the whole of the enemy's advanced works, which had been perfected at immense expense and labour. For this purpose a considerable detachment was formed in three columns, and marched from the garrison, upon the setting of the moon, on the 27 th of November, at three o'clock in the morning. The columns were severally composed of an advanced corps, a body of pioneers, artillery-men carrying combustibles, and a sustaining corps, with a reserve in the rear. The pioneers of the left column 444 MILITARY HISTORY, were seamen. The vigorous efforts of these troops, on every part of the exterior front, were irresistible ; and the enemy, after a scattering fire of short duration, gave way on all sides, and abandoned their stupendous works with precipitation. The pioneers and artillery-men spread their fire with such rapidity, that, in half an hour, two mortar batteries of ten thirteen-inch mortars, and three batteries of six guns each, with all the lines of approach, communication, and traverse, were in flames, and soon reduced to ashes. The mortars and cannon were spiked, and their beds, carriages, and plat- forms destroyed. Their magazines blew up, one after another, as the fire approached them. The enemy, see- ing all opposition ineffectual, offered no other resistance than an ill-directed fire of round and grape shot, from tlie forts of St. Barbara and St. Phillipe, and the bat- teries on the lines ; and remained in their camps, spec- tators of the conflagration. The whole detachment, whose loss had been very inconsiderable, was in the garrison again by five, just before break of day. An enterprise so admirably contrived, and so successfully executed, could not fail to give the Spaniards an exalted idea of the wisdom of general Elliott, and the courage of his troops, who to these virtues joined the tenderest regard to the duties of humanity, by their kind treatment of the prisoners, many of whom they rescued from de- struction. The value of the works destroyed by this sally, was estimated at nearly £3,000,000. In the following year, the defence of Gibraltar still continued to attract the eyes of Europe, as to a scene of uncommon bravery and success. Elliott, according to his custom, allowed the Spaniards to bring their works nearly to perfection, and then almost totally demolished them. On the 8th of September, at seven in the morn- ing, a heavy fire commenced from the English batteries, with carcases, hot shot, and shells, upon the Spanish advanced works and batteries, and before ten two of their principal batteries were completely destroyed. The attack made by the Spaniards on the 13th of this month, requires a more particular description. It was made with ten battering ships, under the command of admiral Moreno. These ships were of different sizes, from 1400 to (300 tons burden. Their guns, which in all amounted to 212, were brass twenty-six pounders, all entirely new. ELLIOTT. 445 The number of men on board these ships, including' officers, amounted to nearly 8000. The Spaniards had also collected from different ports about 300 large boats, which \rere to carry their troops. At ten in the morn- ing, don Moi-eno's ship was placed about 1000 yards from the king's bastion, and began firing ; the others, posted to the north and south at small distances asun- der, likewise discharged their cannon. The fire was heavy on both sides, the English opening their batteries as the enemy came before them. Red-hot shot was sent with such precision from the garrison, that in the after- noon the smoke was seen to issue from the upper part of the Spanish admiral's, and from another ship, and men were seen labouring to extinguish the fire by engines. Theireiforts, however, were ineffectual ; for, by one in the morning, the Spanish admiral and several others were in flames. The confusion of the Spaniards was now sufficiently manifest, and the numerous rockets thrown up, from each of their ships, showed the greatness of their distress. Their signals were immediately answered from the Spanish fleet, and attempts were made to bring away the men, it being impossible to remove the ships. Twelve English gun boats, each carrying a twenty-four or eighteen pounder, under the command of captain Roger Curtis, then advanced, and were so drawn up as to flank the line of the Spanish battering ships, while they were also extremely annoyed by an excessive heavy and well-directed fire from the garrison. The fire from the English gun boats was kept up with such vigour and effect, that the Spanish boats did not venture to approach ; on the contrary, they abandoned their ships, and the men left in them, to the mercy of the English. The scene was now truly dreadful ; great numbers of men were seen amid the flames, some upon pieces of wood in the water, others appearing in the ships where the fire had as yet made but little progress, all express- ing by speech and gesture the deepest distress, and all imploring assistance. The English made every exertion to relieve them, but the blowing up of the Spanish ships, as the fire got to the magazines, and the firing of some of their cannon as the metal became heated by the flames, rendered this a very perilous employment. In conse- quence, however, of their intrepid exertions, thirteen Spanish ofBcers and 3-14 men were saved. Their loss 446 MILITARY HISTORY. must have been immense. After this memorable victory, lord Howe succeeded in relieving the garrison. On the return of Elliott to England, the gratitude of the British senate was as forwaid as the public voice in giving him that distinguished approbation his merit deserved, to which his majesty was pleased to add that of knight of the Bath, and an elevation to the peerage, by the title of Lord Heathfield, baron of Heathfield, on June 14, 1787, and permitting him to take also the arms of the fortjess he had so bravely defended, to perpetuate the memory of his noble conduct. His lordship closed a life of military renown at the most critical season for his reputation. He had acquired the brightest honours of a soldier, and the love and reverence of his country ; and he fell, in an exertion beyond his strength, from an anxiety to close his life on the rock where he had established his fame. He died in the seventy-third year of his age, on the 6th of July, 1790, at his chateau at Aix la-Chapelle, of a second stroke of the palsy, after having enjoyed for some weeks past a tolerably good share of health and an unusual flow of spiiits. Two days before his death he dined with his friend, Mr. Barclay, and was in a few days to have set out with that gentleman for Leghorn, on his way to Gibral- tar. His remains were brought to Dover, in the race- horse packet; whence they were conveyed to Heathfield, in Sussex, and there deposited in a vault, built for that purpose, over which a handsome monument is erected. SIR RALPH ABERCROMBY, K. B. This veteran hero of Aboukir was born at Menstiie, in the parish of Logie, in Scotland, on the 7th of October, 1733, and was the eldest son of George Abercromby, Esq. of Tullibody. Having received in his boyish days the usual education of a Scottish parochial school, he was sent first to the university of Edinburgh, and subse- quently to that of Gottingen. He entered the army in the year 175G, and had a comet's commission in the 3d dragoon guards. On the 12th of February, 17G0, he ABERCROMBY. 4i7 obtained a lieutenancy in the same regiment, and con- tinued in this corps till the 24th of April, 17G2, when he obtained a company in the 3d regiment of horse. In this regiment he rose to the rank of major on the 6th of June, 1770, and on the 19th of May, 1773, he was promoted to that of lieutenant-colonel. In No- vember, 17S0, we find him a brevet-colonel, and on the 3d of November, 17S1, he was made colonel of the 103d regiment. On the 2Sth of September, 1787, he was promoted to the rank of major-general, and on the 25th of April, 1793, he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant- general, in which station he served under his royal high- ness the duke of York, on the continent, and by his mili- tary skill and exertions acquired not only the esteem, but also the confidence of that general, who in his de- spatches relative to the action on the heights of Cateau, April 16, 1794, where Sir Ralph commanded the advanced guard, remarks, ' I have obligations to lieutenant-general Sir William Erskine, as well as to lieutenant-general Abercromby.' In the despatches of the 19th of May his royal highness farther says, • The ability and coolness with which lieutenant-general Abercromby and major- general Fox conducted their different corp* under these trying circumstances, require that I should particularly notice them.' On the 27th of October following he was wounded at Nimeguen ; from which, however, he soon recovered. The succeeding winter, when the British army retreated into Holland, Sir Ralph Abercromby had consigned to his care the sick and wounded, an office in which his sensibility and humanity shone conspicuous. Early in 1795 the success of the enemy in the West Indies claimed the attention of government. They had repossessed themselves of Guadaloupe and St. Lucia; effected several landings in Martiuico ; and displayed the tri-coloured flag on many of the forts of the islands of St. Vincent, Grenada, and Maria Galante. To stop their ravages, a fleet was fitted out in the latter end of the summer, and a military force, the charge of which was given to Sir Ralph Abercromby, who was also appointed commander-in-chief of the forces in the West Indies. On his arrival at Grenada, a plan was immediately formed for the operation of the army, and the success with which it was attended attested his high military talents and capacity for command. It was 448 MILITARY HISTORY. particularly fortunate also that, anions: those brave and able officers by whom his arrangements were executed, he could number Sir John Moore, who at this time held the rank of brigadier-general. Port-Royal was attacked in March, and carried after an obstinate resistance, and Demerara and Essequibo were afterwards taken with ease. An armament was then sent against St. Lucia, where the troops were landed almost without opposition ; and every place of strength which the French possessed was taken in rapid succession, so that in the space of a month the whole island surrendered by capitulation. The fall of St. Vincent followed in June, under similar circumstances, and in the same month Grenada was con- quered, although Fedan, the insurgent chief, defended it with the most obstinate valour. The last conquest in the West Indies performed under the auspices of general Abercromby, was that of Trinidad from the Spaniards, which was accomplished in February, 1797, and with such facility, that only one British officer, a lieutenant, fell in the capture. On the 2d of November, 1796, Sir Ralph (who had now received the honour of knighthood) was appointed to the command of the 2d or North British dragoons, commonly called the Scotch Greys ; and in the same year was made lieut.-goveruor of the isle of Wight, and afrerwards far- ther rewarded with the government of forts George and Augustus. Upon his return home from the West Indies he was fixed upon, both on account of his military skill and tempered zeal, as a proper person to allay the discontents which prevailed in Ireland. In this important duty he paid the strictest attention to the discipline of his array, and was anxious to restore to his soldiers their repu- tation, which they had lost by repeated acts of licen- tiousness ; for it was his frequent declaration, ' that their irregularity and insubordination had rendered them more formidable to their friends than to their enemies.' It was deemed necessary to unite the civil and military power in that kingdom in one person : Sir Ralph was therefore called home, and succeeded by the marquis Cornwallis. On leaving Ireland he was appointed to the command of his majesty's forces in North Britain, and shortly after employed again, under the duke of York, in the great enterprise against Holland, designed to reduce the ABERCROMBY. 449 Dutch to their allegiance to the prince of Orange. To him was the execution of the plan consigned, and under his immediate eye took place the debarkation of 12,000 troops on the 27th of August, 1799, at the Helder. The fatal issue of that event is too well known ; but it was universally confessed by Dutch, French, and British offi- cers, that tlie most decisive victory could not have dis- played the zeal, courage, magnanimity, and fortitude, of this gallant commander more than his conduct in that arduous struggle against the difficulties of the ground, the inclemency of the season, inconvenient yet unavoid- able delays, the disorderly movement of the Russians, and the timid duplicity of the Dutch. The success obtained over the enemy by the British troops on the 2d of October following, and in which our general bore a distinguished part, compensated for the losses of the last battle. The combined armies employed on this occasion were divided into four principal columns. Sir Ralph Abercromby commanding the first column on the right. The battle lasted from six in the morning till six in the evening, during all which time he gave the greatest proofs of his professional abilities ; and displayed the most active exertions. The danger of his post may be conceived from his having two horses shot under him. The force of the enemy was computed at 25,000 men, of which the greater part were French. In the despatches of his royal highness the duke of York on this occasion, he bestows on him the followingjustly merited panegyric : ' The points where this well-fought battle was princi- pally contested were from the sea-shore in the front of Egmont, extending along the sandy desert or hills, to the heights above Bergen ; and it was sustained by the Bri- tish columns under those highly distinguished officers Sir Ralph Abercromby and lieutenant-general Dundas, -whose exertions, as well as the gallantry of the brave troops they led, cannot have been surpassed by any former instance of British valour.' The last military service in which this noble veteran was engaged was that of landing the British troops iu Egypt; and as it was in this expedition that he fell, it is but justice to his memory briefly to recapitulate the memorable transactions of the day so marked in the English annals, by his fall. The troops destined for this expedition consisted of the flower of the British 450 MILITARY HISTORY. array. They, however, Lad been long at sea, and were disheartened by an uninterrupted succession of bad weather for some time : but they cheerfully embarked, and on the 3d of November, 1800, part of the fleet sailed for Minorca; the remainder, with Sir Ralph Abercromby on board, proceeded directly to Malta, where it arrived on the 30th of the same month, and was joined on the I4th of December by lord Keith, with the division of marines. At this place Sir Ralph Abercromby disem- barked his troops for the purpose of inspecting them, after which they took their departure for Marmorice, taking with them 300 Maltese recruits to act as pioneers. On the 28th of December the first division arrived at Marmorice Bay, and the second on the 1st of January ; where the sick were landed, the ships cleaned, and the whole army trained to the exercise of landing, which they were soon to perform in the face of an enemy. On the 16th of February general Moore, who had been despatched to Jaffa, returned, confirming what had been before reported of the grand vizier's army, namely, that it was weak in number, without discipline, and infected with the plague. The appointed time for the Pacha and gun-boats to join the British being elapsed, made it evident that the attack must still be deferred. Every moment of delay now became important, for news had arrived of the escape of two French frigates into Alex- andria, while the English cruisers stationed there were watering at Cyprus ; and the French force in Egypt was much greater than government had expected. Of the many inconveniences the commander-in-chief laboured under, was the want of good maps : not a single one which he could procure could be confided in. This want was the more to be deplored, as the Egyptian pilots were so timid as to declare it unsafe in the extreme to attempt to land at Aboukir bay : but they were perfectly asto- nished when they saw the whole army embark on the 20th of February, though the fleet could not weigh anchor till the 23d, when the whole squadron, consisting of 175 sail, cleared the harbour, with a fine breeze. The British army, exclusive of officers, consisted of 15,330 men, in- cluding 999 sick, 500 Maltese, and various other descrip- tions of people attached to a camp ; so that the eff'ective force could not be estimated at more than 12,000 strong. On the 1st of March the leading frigate made a signal ABERCROMBY. 451 for land, which was the coast near the Arab's tower; and on the 8th of March, at two o'clock in the morning, the reserve under major-general Moore, the brigade of guards under major-general Ludlow, and part of the first brigade, amounting in the whole to nearly 5500 men, assembled in the boats, under the command of major-general Coote. The remainder of the first and second brigades were put in Bhips close to the shore, so as to aiford ready succour after the first landing was effected ; and about three o'clock the signal was given for all the vessels to collect round the Moudovi, which anchored nearly a gun-shot from shore ; but this could not be effected till near one o'clock. About nine o'clock the signal was made for the boats to advance, when the whole mass became all animation. The enemy was seen to the number of 2000 posted on the summit of the sand hills, with a front extending about a mile, forming the concave arch of a circle. In their centre was a height about sixty yards, nearly perpendicular, and apparently inaccessible. Nothing could exceed their astonishment when they saw the British troops attempt a landing ; and seeing the boats moving rapidly to the shore, and the armed vessels opening their guns, they began firing with all their artillery from the heights, assisted by the castle of Aboukir. The quantity of shot and shells commanded the surface of the water, and seemed to render it impossible for any vessel to live, or even an individual to escape; and for a moment it com- pelled some of the boats to lie close upon the left; several of them were sunk, and the others were impeded in sav- ing the men. This obstruction was, however, but mo- mentary ; the troops of the reserve leaped on shore, and formed as they advanced ; the 23d and 40th ascended the heights with uncommon alacrity, and without firing a shot charged the two battalions on the summit with the bayonet, breaking and pursuing the enemy till they car- ried the two mole hills in the rear, which commanded the plain on the left. The 42d regiment in the mean time landed, and formed with as much unconcern as on parade : then mounting the position in the face of two pieces of cannon and the fire of a battalion of infantry, they repulsed 200 French dragoons who attempted to charge them. The 54ch and the royals did not land so soon as the others, but fortunately attained the shore just at the moment that a column of 600 infantry was 452 MILITARY HISTORY. advancing with fixed bayonets a^iainst the left flank of the guards, through a hollow. On seeing the royals the enemy retreated, after firing one volley. The British were now in possession of the heights ; and the French seeing general Coote advancing with the guards and his own brigade, they ran from all the points of their po- sitions. They, however, supported a scattered fire about an hour and a half, when they retreated with the loss of 300 men, eight pieces of cannon, and a number of horses. The boats now put off to land the remainder of the army, which was completed by the evening. On the 13th the army marched to attack the French on the heights, whose whole force was now about 6000 men, having just before received a reinforcement. They were posted on a high commanding ground, the approach to which formed a fine glacis for the whole range of fire from their numerous artillery. When the British army advanced opposite Mandora, the enemy left the heights upon which they had formed, and moved down by their right, commencing a heavy fire of musketry, supported by all their cannon, on the 9'2d regiment, which formed the advanced guard of the British left. The French general Bron's cavalry at the same time charged down a height upon the 90th regiment, forming the advanced guard of the left column : but this regiment prudently permitted the cavalry to approach before they fired, which entirely altered their direction, forced them to skirt along the line, and lastly to make a precipitate retreat, and the few of their dragoons that reached the British ranks were bayoneted. After this, the enemy no longer op- posed in line, but kept up an unremitting fire of cannon and small arms, and were at length compelled to quit their position, and retreat over the plains into their lines before Alexandria. But before they could reach this place, Dillon's regiment charged with the bayonet, seized upon two guns placed on the canals, and immediately turned them upon the enemy. Sir Ralph wished to follow up his success, and advanced across the plain, while general Hutchinson moved forward with the second line to the left, to secure a rising ground. The French now began to fire from their artillery and field pieces, and while Sir Ralph Abercromby reconnoitred, his whole army continued under the most terrible and destructive discharges to which troops were ever ex- ABERCROMBY. 453 posed. Never was desolation spread with more despatch ; the enemy, now under their works, had only to load and fire, and it was impossible for their balls to fail of exe- cution : yet the British endured the havoc with the greatest firmness for several hours. They felt but one wish, which was, to be led on to the assault : this the general, however, deemed improper for the present, and at sunset, therefore, the army was withdrawn, but still marching on as if on the parade, and under orders to occupy that position, which was soon to be a new theatre of glory. We have now arrived at that memorable day, the 21st of March, 1801, which crowned the British arms with success, and at once finished the labours and im- mortalized the fame of our gallant veteran. The par- ticulars of that desperate conflict are thus related by a distinguished officer in the action, whose minute and graphic account we quote entire, in preference to any description of our own. ' On the memorable 21st of March the army, as usual, was under arms at three o'clock in the morning : all was quiet till half-past three, when the report of a musket was heard at the extremity of the left ; instantly after- wards a cannon fired; scattered musketry followed, and then two more guns. All were now convinced that a general attack was commencing, and general Moore, who was officer of the night, on the first alarm proceeded to the left, but was so impressed with the idea that it was too far distant, that he turned back to the right. A solemn stillness now succeeded, but it was only of a short duration ; every ear was all attention, and every eye directed towards the eastern sky, when on a sudden loud acclamations were heard on the right, to which a roar of musketry instantly sticceeded, and the enemy's attack in that quarter was now no longer doubtful. The enemy advanced upon, and continued to push in, all the videts and piquets upon the main body, but colonel Housten, of the 58th, faintly perceiving a French column advancing upon him, and dreading lest the English piquets should be between them and his men, suffered it to come so near him, that he could plainly see the ene- my's glazed hats, before he ordered his grenadiers to fire. Their discharge was now followed by that of the whole regiment, and being rapidly repeated, soon made the 454 MILITARY HISTORY. French retire to a hollow at some distance in their rear. Soon after they wheeled to the riijht, and attempted to pass a redoubt opposite to its left, in conjunction with another column, but the 28th regiment seeing: them ap- proach the battery, with a heavy fire checked those who attempted to storm the redoubt where they were sta- tioned. Rut now the main body of the two columns joined a third, and forced in behind the redoubt, while others were to attack it in front ; when colonel Crowdjye, commanding the left of the 58th, wheeled back two com- panies, and, after firing two or three rounds, ordered a charure with the bayonet, and being at this instant joined by the 23d, while the 42d were also advancing, the French troops that had entered the rear of the redoubt, after sustaining a very severe loss, were obliged to sur- render. Here both the 59th and 28th had been attacked in front, flank, and rear. It is allowed that the 28th ex- perienced a momentary relief from the advance of the 42d, but during the time they were engaged, the first line of the enemy's cavalry, passing the left of the re- doubt, attacked, and charging in a mass, for a while overwhelmed that gallant corps, but which, though broken, was not defeated. In fact, such was the dilemma in which they were placed during this contest, that colonel Spencer, with a part of the 40th, having taken a station in the avenues of the ruins, was for some mo- ments afraid to tire, lest they should destroy the 42d, then intermingled with the enemy. But even when he began to fire, which in some measure checked the progress of the French cavalry, he must certainly have been overpowered, if general Stuart had not advanced with the foreign brigade ; these poured in such a close and heavy succession of volleys, that such of the cavalry as escaped destruction, only found safety in a hurried flight. ' In this ftirious charge of cavalry, general Abercromby received his mortal wound. He was alone, near the redoubts just mentioned, when some French dragoons penetrating to the spot, he was thrown from his horse. From the tassel of his sword, the man who rode at him, and endeavoured to cut him down, must have been an officer. This sword, however, the veteran general seized and wrested from him before he could effect his destruction ; and at the same instant, this daring assail- ant was bayoneted by a private of the 42d. Sir Ralph ABERCROMBY. 455 only complained of a contusion in his breast, supposed to hare been given in the scuffle, by the hilt of the sword, but was entirely ignorant of the moment he received the wound in the thigh, which occasioned his death. After this wound Sir Sidney Smith was the first officer that came to the general, and from him received that sword which the latter had so gloriously acquired from the French officer. The cause of this present was the general's observation, that Sir Sidney's sword had been broken. As soon as the French cavalry were driven out of the camp. Sir Ralph walked to a redoubt, where he could take a view of the whole field of battle. Then to the right it appeared, the reserve of the French cavalry had attempted another charge against the foreign brigade, without success. After this their in- fantry, one battalion excepted, no longer acting in a body, fired only in scattered parties. As the ammunition of the British was exhausted, several of the regiments of the reserve not only remained some time without a shot, but even the guns in the battery had but one cartridge left. But while this was the state of affairs on the right, it was found that the centre had been attacked. At daybreak, a body of French grenadiers had advanced upon it, supported by a heavy line of infantry. The gTiards were posted there, and at first threw out their flankers to oppose the enemy ; but these being driven in, and as the enemy's columns had approached very close, general Ludlow ordering the brigade to fire, they did so with the utmost precision ; and after some local manoeuvring, the advance of general Coote with his brigade determined the enemy to retire, and separate themselves as sharp-shooters ; and thus, while the French cannon played without intermission, the former kept up a very destructive fire. Thus the left of the British was never engaged any farther than being exposed to a distant cannonade, and a partial discharge of musketry. During the interval the British were without ammu- nition ; the French on the right advancing close to the redoubt, were pelted with stones by the '28th ; and re turning the same measures of offence, they killed a Serjeant of that regiment, by beating in his forehead. But as these troops, as well as the British, were without ammunition, they were very easily driven away by the grenadiers, who moved out after them ; and soon after. 456 MILITARY HISTORY. the whole of the enemy's force moved off the ground. Thus, unable to make the expected impression upon the British lines, general Menou made a retreat in very good order, but this was principally owing to the want of ammunition among the British ; otherwise the bat- teries, as well as the cannon on the left, and the king's cutters on the right, must have done great execution. ' About ten in the forenoon the action had every where terminated, while Sir Ralph never quitted the bat- tery to which he retired ; but as he continued walking about, many officers had no suspicion of his being wounded, but from the blood trickling down his clothes. At length getting faint, he was put into a hammock, and conveyed to a boat, which carried him on board lord Keith's ship, being accompanied by his friend Sir Thomas Dwyer. — The battle was fought by the right of the English army alone. The French army was 9700 strong, including 1500 cavalry, with forty-six pieces of cannon. The whole British army, reduced by the actions on the 8th and 13th, by the men left in care of the wounded, the absence of the 92d regiment, the ma- rines and dismounted dragoons, did not yield an effec- tive force of 10,000 men, including 300 cavalry; yet it must be remembered that it was only the half of this number that contested with the whole united force of the enemy. The field of battle in front of the British works being very contracted, the killed and wounded presented a distressing spectacle. Nearly 1700 French and 400 horses were found on the field. On the part of the British, there were sixty officers and 233 men killed, and sixteen officers and 1190 men wounded.' 'J'hough this battle neither decided the fate of Egypt nor gained any ground, yet it answered many important purposes, principally that of securing the position to our array, and the impression it made on the Bedouin Arabs of British valour : in consequence of which a commu- nication was opened with the interior of the country, and the market supplied with every commodity. For thou- sands of these people came to be eye-witnesses of the contest, and declared it to be such a one as their fathers never recorded. On the 28th of March the brave Aber- cromby breathed his last. His death was first made known to the army the next morning. For his cure he had undergone the most painful operations with CORN\yALLIS. 457 great firmness ; but as the ball could not be extracted, a mortification ensued, which soon terminated his suf- ferings. — This eminent man also served his country in a legislative capacity. la the year 1774 he was elected to represent the county of Kinross in parliament, and he continued a member of the House of Commons until the next annual election in 1780. His chief talents, how- ever, were of the martial kind. In his military character he was strictly uniform and regular, and preserved the best order and discipline throughout all ranks of those under his command. In action he possessed that intrepidity, coolness, and presence of mind, so characteristic of the British nation. In his private character he was mo- dest and unassuming; in all his transactions disinte- rested and upright. The remains of this brave general were deposited under the castle of St. Elmo, in La Ya- letta, in the island of Malta, facing the entrance of the harbour, and over the grave was erected a handsome but plain black marble slab, with an inscription record- ing his worth, and his country's regret. In grateful remembrance also of the distinguished services of Sir Ralph, his eldest son was raised to the peerage, in 1801, by the title of Baron Abercromby, of Aboukir and Tulli- body : his other son, the late Speaker of the House of Commons, has also been raised to the peerage, by the title of Lord Dunfermline. CHARLES CORNWALLIS, MARQUIS CORSWALLIS. Charles Corxwallis, viscount Brome, was the eldest son of Charles earl Cornwallis, and was born at Brome, in Suffolk, on the 31st of December, 1737. He was sent to Eton school during boyhood, after which he went to the military academy at Turin, as he had chosen the profession of arms. He became an ensign in the foot guards on the 8th of December, 1756, and afterwards saw active service, as a captain, in the S.5th regiment, in Germany, under lord Granby. His rise in the army X 458 MILITARY HISTORY. was more i-apid than that of ofRcers who do not possess the advantages of wealth or connexions, for in 17G1 he was a lieutenant-colonel, by purchase, being as yet only in his twenty-third year. He succeeded to his father's title in the year following, after which his career was of a political rather than a military character, till the breaking out of the American war. In the House of Peers he had alwa5"S strenuously deprecated a rupture with our North American colonies ; but when this melan- choly event occurred, he was as ready to suppress the rebellion, as he had been eager to prevent it. Although our ministers had talked high before the war commenced, and insisted upon nothing less than absolute submission to their decrees, yet as soon as re- course was had to arms, their indecision and imbecility were equal to their arrogance. Instead of adopting such measures as would have suppressed the insurrection at once, they tampered with the war, and dealt out their resources so sparingly, that the colonists had time to arm themselves for the contest ; and in the movements that followed, they were every where enabled to choose their ground, and show a strong and decided front. They were even so successful on most occasions that the Bri- tish officers were dispirited, so that instead of acting upon the aggressive, they were contented with a defen- sive war, in which they were generally placed in a state of blockade. At last, the ministry discovered that America was not to be conquered by such negative pro- ceedings, and it was resolved to transport an anny of 3">,000 men, and a formidable fleet, to put an end to the war at once. Forces, however, had to be raised for the purpose ; but as the war was the reverse of being popular with the nation, the recruiting drum went among our towns and villages in vain. It was therefore resolved to apply for soldiers to the petty soveieigns of Germany, and as these august personages were wholesale traffickers in a commodity which they regarded as merely ' food for powder,' 17,000 Germans were soon purchased at an enormous expense, to swell the defective contingents of the British army. In 1775, lord Cornwallis, who had now attained the rank of major-general, was commanded to liold himself in readiness for active service in the colo- nies, and in December he embarked at Portsmouth. CORNWALLIS. 459 Having veceivei reinforcements in Ireland he left Cork, and after a tedious and stormy Yoyage, arrived at America in May the following- year. The instnictions given by the ministry to earl Corn- vallis required him to form a junction with Sir Henry Clinton, who commanded the war in the south, and co-operate with him in the recoTery of North Carolina, the people of which were supposed to be generally well- aiTected to the mother country ; but when the armament under Clinton arrived on the coast of that province, they found that it had been wholly reduced under the govern- ment of Congress. It was then resolved by Sir Henry to shift the attempt to South Carolina ; but this province was so ably defended by the American general, Lee, that the British shipping was roughly handled and re- pulsed, while the land forces never came into action. This expedition having so signally failed, the naval and land forces were withdrawn, to join the main armament under general Howe, who was attempting the reduction of New York. But the dilatoriness of our commanders during this war had almost become proverbial, and while Howe was pondering upon the attempt, Washington had so strongly fortified New York as to make its capture hopeless. The troops were disembarked on Staten Island, Cornwallis was appointed to command the reserve, and hostilities were commenced with an attempt to reduce Long Island. Here the earl signalized himself by the able and successful manner in which he led his brigade to the attack, as well as the subsequent successes that crowned this expedition, by which the Jerseys were reduced to the British dominion. After these events, lord Cornwallis had prepared to return to England upon his private affairs; but before he could set sail, he learned that Washington had ral- lied, and was successfully cutting off the British forces in detail. The earl therefore hurried back to head-qnar- ters, and having mustered three brigades with several pieces of artillery, he resolved to encounter a strong force of the Americans posted at Trenton. He pressed forward therefore with great rapidity, although obliged to skirmish at every step, and having reached the main body of the enemy, on the afternoon of January 2d (\T7T), he endeavoured to draw them into a general ac- tion. But Washington, instead of accepting the chal- 4G0 MILITARY HISTORY, lenge, withdrew his forces across the Asumpinek, and ap- parently posted himself for the evening; and Cornwallis, deceived by this appearance, followed the example, ex- pecting an engagement on the succeeding day. The earl, however, had not yet fully fathomed the tactics of Wash- ington. That calculating sagacious leader had resolved to surprise Princetown, and subsequently Brunswick also, by an unexpected manoeuvre ; and therefore silently withdrew his forces at midnight, and march- ing by a circuitous route to avoid observation, reached the neighbourhood of Princetown at sunrise, where he found three British regiments on their way to join Corn- wallis. These he immediately attacked with such vigour that he broke them asunder, after which he took posses- sion of Princetown. But here his career of success was interrupted by the activity of his opponent. As soon as Cornwallis discovered the absence of the enemy, he de- tected their purpose ; and pushing forward for Bruns- wick, he reached Princetown so rapidly as almost to overtake the rear of the Americans in the act of quitting it. Washington, therefore, finding his purpose frustrated, was obliged to turn aside on the road to Brunswick, and retire to Pluckemin. As Washington kept so obstinately on the defensive, that all the arts of the British commanders could not draw him into an engagement, it was resolved to at- tempt an expedition for the capture of Philadelphia, and thus transfer the war to the south. Sixteen thousand soldiers were therefore embarked for this purpose, who landed in the bay of Chesapeake on the 25th of August, after which they commenced a dilatory march towards the scene of action, while Washington, at the head of 15,000, passed through Philadelphia to encounter them. The consequence of this, after several skirmishes, was the battle of Brandy wine, in which the able dispositions of Cornwallis, who served iinder general Howe, chiefly contributed to gain the victory. After havimr thus cleared the way to Philadeljihia, Howe sent lord Corn- wallis forward with the reserves, to take possession of the town, which was accomplished on the 2Gth of Septem- ber. Here he remained as commandant of Philadelphia until the defeat of colonel Donop by the Americana at Redbank, upon which lord Cornwallis placed himself at the head of a division of the army, and siicceeded in CORNWALLIS. 451 driviug back the enemy. After this, the war again dwindled into skirmishes, which continued during the greater part of the campaign of 1778. But although the military talents of his lordship were ably displayed in all these and the subsequent movements of our armies, it is unnecessary to particularise them, as in these he only held a secondary command. It was not until 1780 that he was commissioned to act upon his own respon- sibility, by being appointed to the command and defence of Georgia and South Carolina, which had just fallen into the possession of the British. The chief eflForts of the Americans were now directed to the recovery of these two provinces, and general Gates arrived for that purpose with a strong detachment from the main army. The difficulty of his lordship's position was now trying, not only from the comparative small- ness of his force, but the hostility of the provincials, in the hope of whose co-operation he had been greatly- disappointed. Nevertheless, he resolved to assume the aggressive, and after having made every prudent ar- rangement for the internal tranquillity of his govern- ment, he marched his small army of 2000 to give battle to the enemy. The Americans, to the number of 6000, were encamped at Rugely's Mills, in the neighbourhood of Camden. On the 15th of August (1780) the engage- ment commenced a little after dawn, by a furious attack of the British upon the iiregulars, who had been incor- rectly placed on the left of the American army, and who were in the act of attempting to change their position for one more favourable when the assault began. The consequences of this unmilitary movement were such as might have been expected. They were taken in a con- fused and unprovided state, and after having received a single volley, they fled with precipitation. On the right, the Americans gallantly kept their ground ; but the right wing of the British, after the flight of the irregu- lars, instead of pursuing, wheeled round upon the flank of the enemy, and poured in such a close and heavy fire as soon dispersed them. Gates, as a last and desperate resource, brought up his reserves, that made a splendid charge, but in vain ; they were met, broken, and tram- pled down, by the Biitish cavalry. The Americans nov/ fled in every direction, after leaving seventy officers and 2000 men dead on the field, or prisoners, while the loss 462 MILITARY HISTORY. of the victoi's ouly amounted to about 220 officers and soldiers. This success would have been of high importance if Georgia and South Carolina bad fulfilled those promises of loyalty which originally occasioueJ the transference of the seat of war; but the royalist party in these quar- ters had risen prematurely, and been easily suppressed, while the public hatred against the British government was both deep and general. Instead therefore of fiiuling allies and co-operation, lord Cornwallis discovered that he had carried a dangerous warfare into the heart of an enemy's country. Towards the middle of September, therefore, he commenced his march, intending to enter North Carolina, and advanced to Charlotte-town, which he rashly fixed upon as the centre of his operations. Here, however, he found himself in the midst of a hostile population, by whom his foragers and small parties were cut oil', so that he was obliged to remove from the dangerous neighboui-hood, and occupy Wynnes- borough, where he was more secure. Having now learned that general Leslie had been sent with 3G00 men from New York to effect a diversion in his favour, lord Cornwallis was of opinion that nothing of import- ance could be done but by a junction of the two armies, upon which he ordered Leslie to proceed to Charleston, and there join him with all his forces, a measure that was accomplished by the end of December. The unfortunate campaign of the following year was commenced under circumstances of favourable omen to the British arms. Although general Greene had ad- vanced to the relief of the province, and been reinforced as he marched along so as greatly to outnumber the troops of Cornwallis, yet the latter assumed the aggres- sive, by going in search of his enemy, and in the con- flicts th-,it followed he was generally successful. But the spirit of the Americans was not to be daunted by such untoward cii'cumstances, and while they acquired addi- tional skill by every fresh repulse, their ranks were so speedily repaired by recruits from the province that their losses were unfelt. The consequences of these heroic feelings were such as miglit have been expected: they began to be successful in turn, and lord Cornwallis, after several failures, began to lose somewhat of that mural energy for which he had been conspicuous during CORNWALLIS. 463 the course of the war. Indeed, by the beginning of August, his condition was such as might have well dis- pirited the ablest leader. He occupied the double post of York, and Gloucester, situated on either side of the York river, at a point where the rapid current is only about a mile in breadth, and this position, naturally ad- mirable for defence, was farther strengthened by re- doubts, batteries, and other resources of fortification, that seemed to make it unassailable. But here he was soon blocked up both by land and water, by the united forces of France and America ; and when he might have successfully burst forth and resumed the ofiensive, he hesitated, in consequence of promises of reinforcements which had been transmitted to him from head-quarters. Thus the favourable opportunity was allowed to escape, and all farther chance of even a safe retreat was ren- dered hopeless by the arrival of Washington himself to the scene of action. Lord Cornwallis now resolved to husband his resources by evacuating one of his posts, and he therefore withdrew his forces from the Glouces- ter line, on the 30th of September, and concentrated his whole army at York. Town. But the French and Ame- ricans commenced the siege of York Town in form, and with such success, that on the 14tli of October, they assailed the British outworks, and carried two of them by storm. Retreat was now impossible, and lord Corn- wallis was obliged to surrender by capitulation, on the 18th of October ; and thus 7000 British soldiers, who had often triumphed in the field of battle when supei'ior forces were arrayed against them, were obliged to lay down their arms, being the second British army which had been compelled to surrender since the commence- ment of this unhappy war. In the spring of 1732, lord Cornwallis set sail for Eng- land, to vindicate his conduct during the unfortunate campaign, the outcry against which, as might be ex- pected, was both loud and popular. It was easy, indeed, for those home-bred warriors who sketch plans of battle upon the dining table, and overrun provinces in their easy chairs, to point out the errors of his proceedings ; but after all the angry pamphlets that were written upon the subject, his lordship was still accounted one of the best and bravest of our commanders, and as such he was appointed to the high and responsible office of governor- 4G4 MILITARY HISTORY. general of Beugal, in the beginning of 1786. He arrived there in September, and conducted the ne- gotiations tliat had been opened with the native princes with such effect, that the promise of a general tranquillity prevailed, when the whole prospect was overcast by the hostility of the celebrated Tippoo Saib, the sovereign of Mysore. This brave barbarian monarch was not only offended at his name having been omitted in the list of the company's allies, but he also coveted the possession of Travancore, a small state in alliance with the British ; and having found, as he conceived, a favourable oppor- tunity in 1790, he made an irruption into the province, which at first proved successful. The government in consequence declared war against Tippoo, in which they were joined by their allies, and the nizam of Deccan ; but in the campaign of this year Tippoo was generally successful, so that lord Cornwallis resolved to conduct the war against him in person. He therefore set sail from Calcutta, and arrived at Madras on the 27th of January, 1791, after which he joined the army that had hitherto been under the command of general Meadows, the governor of Madras. The plan of this commander he was obliged to reverse, by proceeding to Seringapatam, the capital of Tippoo, by the shortest and most difficult route, instead of following the easier but more dilatory, as had been originally intended. In pursuance of this design, he advanced upon the great road towards Vel- lore, on the 8th of February, and, except in the case of a few skirmishes with the advanced patrols of the enemy, he found nothing to oppose his progress. To reach Se- ringapatam, it was necessary first to capture the strong city of Bangalore, and to frustrate this measure Tippoo had concentrated his forces in its neighbourhood, where he was strongly fortified among ravines, and other na- tural impediments. No sooner, therefore, did the British troops reach this place, than they experienced a most formidable resistance, and in one engagement their co- vering party sustained a severe defeat from their eastern adversaries. But in spite of tliese obstacles, lord Corn- wallis pressed the siege so vigorously, that on the 20th a breach was made, and on the night of the following day the fort of Bangalore was carried. The forward movement for the Mysore capital was now resumed, and with every anticipation of success. CORiVWALLIS. 4(j5 for it was hoped that during the course of a rapid inarch the artnj' would be able to find subsistence by the way. But hereTippoo had providently destroyed such a contin- gency by laying waste the whole country in front and flank of his enemies for several miles ; and the British, as they advanced, found their distresses multiplied at every step. At last, on the 14th of May, they came within sight of Seringapatam ; but between them and its proud towers and battlements was drawn up the army of My- sore, on the bank of the river Cavery, ready for the engagement in defence of their capital. The British and their native allies, although exhausted with fatigue and famine, did not decline the combat, and a furious engagement commenced, in which Tippoo and his fol- lowers exhibited both skill and daring. Every one of his positions was selected with judgment, and maintained with obstinacy ; his cavalry made brilliant charges, while his infantry sustained and returned the close, heavy fire of the British. But the gallant resistance of the Mysoreans was unavailing, and they were obliged to retire behind the river, after having sustained great loss. This victory, however, was attended with no advantage, for the British troops were so much exhausted with their privations, owing to the judicious precautions of Tippoo, that laying siege to Seringapatam was wholly out of the question. The conquerors were obliged to retreat, after destroying their battering train and military stores, and the army during the retrograde march might have perished from famine, had it not been for the scanty supplies which were brought in by the Mahrattas, and sold at the most exorbitant prices. In spite of these untoward results, a new campaign was resolved on by lord Cornwallis, more especially as the same distresses that had visited his army were felt in an equal or still higher degree among the soldiers of Tippoo. He therefore strained every nerve to recruit his forces and repair his losses, which was done so effec- tually, that in September, 1791, he was again in the field. He cleared his line of march by the capture of several hill-forts and strong posts that would have in- terrupted his communications, and in the beginning of January, 1792, he reached Bangalore. After resting his army for a few weeks, and making necessary pre- parations, the march was resumed, and the banks of X 2 4G6 MILITARY HISTORY. the Cavery were again reached almost without even a demonstration of resistance on the part of the enemy. But Seringapatam itself, which is situated on an island in the Cavery, was not only garrisoned by 45,000 sol- diers, but defended by entrenchments which had been con- structed under the direction of French engineers, so that a sanguinary resistance was to be anticipated. Lord Corn- wallis, after surveying carefully the dispositions of the enemy, resolved to carry the lines of Tippoo Sultan by a night attack. These lines, which constituted the outer defence of Seringapatam, extended about four miles in length, and besides being fortified with ditches and other entrenchments, they had forts bristled with can- non, and were protected in the rear by the river. Or- ders were issued through the British army, that the troops should hold themselves in readiness for action at nine o'clock on the evening of the Gth of February, in perfect silence, without striking their tents or moving their cannon — a command that was obeyed to the letter ; and at the hour of midnight, by the light of a bright moon, evei^y brigade and regiment silently moved to its separate point of attack — a unanimity arising from the distinctness of those orders which Cornwallis had deli- vered to his different officers. The lines were thus pene- trated by one party undetected, the camp was entered, and the pavilion of the sultan reached before a single shot was fired ; while another body of men crossed the river, and took possession of one of the city redoubts. The conflict now became desperate, as troop after troop advanced, and one fortification after another fell into the hands of the British. On the morning, they found themselves masters of the field forts that covered the flanks of the enemy's encampment, and one of their lines that stretched completely across the island ; and here they maintained themselves during the following day in spite of the desperate and multiplied attacks of Tippoo to regain his position. His loss in these conflicts amounted to 14,000 men. Fascines were now constructed, and every preparation made for a siege, and Tippoo soon found himself so closely invested that he saw no alter- native but to yield or perish. He submitted to the des- perate necessity, and entered into treaty with the con- queror. The terms were sufficiently humbling to a haughty spirit, but he was obliged to acquiesce in them ; CORNWALLIS. 407 and at the price of half his dominions, besides being obliged to deliver his sons as hostages into the hands of lord Cornwallis, he was allowed to remain a sovereign, although with enfeebled resources and a diminished lustre. By this humiliation of such a formidable adversary the influence of France in India was broken, and peace was restored to the different nations, as well as security to the British dominion. Having thus worthily dis- charged his commission, his lordship departed for Eng- land, followed by the prayers and tears of those who had experienced the blessing of his administration. On his arrival in 1/93 he was elevated by his sovereign to the rank of a marquis of Great Britain and Ireland, after which he enjoyed several years of tranquillity. But in 1798 he was again called from retirement by the critical situation of Ireland, which was torn by internal anarchy and faction, as well as menaced by an invasion from France. The high military and political talents of mar- quis Cornwallis pointed him out as the most fitting person to preside in this trying crisis. He accepted with cheerfulness the unenviable office of lord-lieutenant, and an-ived in Dublin on the 15th of June. The marquis on his arrival first endeavoured to com- pose the internal dissensions of the country, in which he was successful; he then prepared for the French inva- sion, which was daily expected. He had not to wait long, for 1260 French soldiers and a considerable number of officers under general Humbert, landed at Killala-bay on the 22d of August, expecting to be joined by the dis- contented Irish, among whom they hoped to organize a gi-eat national insurrection. Happily, however, they had landed in the wrong district for their purpose, as few joined them, and the marquis had time to establish military posts to overawe the discontented, and assemble a force to act against the enemy before they had ga- thered to a head. The first troops whom he sent against the French allowed themselves to be shamefully beaten at Castlebar on the 27th, and several of the militia, as well as a body of the country people, went over to the ranks of general Humbert, upon which lord Cornwallis resolved to march against him in person. He therefore despatched general Lake to hang upon the enemy's rear, while he himself menaced them with a strong force in 468 MILITARY HISTORY. front, and after several dexterous marchings and coun- ter-marchings, Humbert was obliged to give battle at Ballinamuck, where he was overtaken by Lake. The Irish rebels were soon dispersed, and the French being thus forsaken were obliged to surrender. By these prompt measures, an invasion which, if tampered with, might have set the whole kingdom in a flame, was brought to nothing. Three years of comparative peace succeeded, during which the administration of lord Cornwallis was marked by an equal mixture of gentle- ness and vigour, so that when be retired from office in 1801, he carried with him the affections of all who were devoted to the tranquillity and prosperity of Ireland. As the marquis had now grown grey in the service of his country, he might have hoped that he would be permitted to retire into honourable tranquillity. But his services could not yet be dispensed with ; and on being sent as ambassador to Paris in 1801, to negotiate on the part of Britain upon that general peace which was now desired by all parties, he was engaged in the numerous discussions that preceded the peace of Amiens. He returned to England in the following year, beginning to be worn out rather with long and anxious service than old age, when disturbances in India required his mediation, and he was sent thither as the only person •who could reconcile the contending parties. He arrived at Calcutta on the 2Sth of June, 1805, and addressed himself to the laborious task, but it was too oppressive for his exhausted constitution. He died as he had lived, at his post. After having endeavoured, but in vain, to reconcile the Mahrattas to the British government, the noble veteran took the field, but on his way to join the army he sickened at Gazeepore, in the neighbour- hood of Benares, and died on the 5th of October, 180.'5, after an illness of a few days, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. His lordship was married in 1763, and had one son and one daughter, the former of whom succeeded to the marquisate, but as he left no heirs male, the title after his death became extinct. RIGHT HON. GEORGE LORD HARRIS. This disting-uished personage in the list of our eastern conquerors was born on March 18, 1746, and was the son of the Rev. George Harris, of Brasted in Kent, Dy Sarah, daughter of George Twentyman, Esq. of Braintree in Cumberland. He entered the military service as a cadet in the royal artillery in 1759, and was appointed fire- worker in June, 1762; but in the following month he was transferred to an ensigncy in the 5th foot, promoted to be lieutenant in 1765, adjutant in 1767, and captain in 1771. In May, 1774, he embarked for America, and was en- gaged in the skirmish of Lexington, and in the battle of Bunker's Hill. In the latter he was severely wounded in the head, and in consequence was trepanned, and came home ; but he returaed in time to take the field previous to the landing of the army in Long Island, in July, 1776. Captain Harris was present at the aflair of Flat Bush ; in the skirmishes on York Island ; in the engagement at White Plains ; at Iron Hill (where he was shot through the leg), and in every action up to the 3d of November, 1778, except that of German Town. In the latter year be was appointed to a majority in his regiment, and in November he embarked with it for the West Indies, with the force under major-general Grant, by whom he was appointed to command the battalion of grenadiers, and landed with the reserve of the army under brigadier- general Meadows at St. Lucie, on the ioth of December. After the taking of ?vIoi-ne Fortunee, major Harris was second in command under brijradier-general Meadows at the Vigie, where the French were repulsed in their repeated attacks on the British post, and in consequence of these failures they retreated from the island. In 1779 he embarked with his regunent, where his soldiers served as marines, and was present in the engagement off Grenada under admiral Byron ; and in 1780 he returned to England. In the December of that year he succeeded to a lieu- tenant-colonelcy in the 5th foot, from which he ex- changed into the 76th, and accompanied, as secretary, to the East Indies, Sir William Meadows, who was ap- 470 MILITARY HISTORY. pointed governor and commander-in-chief of Madras. He was in the campaigns of 1790 and 1791, against Tippoo Sultan ; and in the action of the 15th of May, 1791, was appointed by lord Cornwallis to command the second line ; he was also personally engaged in the attack, of the sultan's camp and island of Seringapatam, on the night of the 6th of February, 1792, the success of which termi- nated the war. Peace being re-established, lieutenant- colonel Harris returned with Sir W. Meadows to England. His merits having been now so often and so severely tested, his promotion was certain, and in reward for his services, he was appointed colonel by brevet, November 18, 1792. The 3d of October 1794, he was appointed to the rank of major-general, when he re-embarked for India, and was placed on the Bengal staff'. The 3d of May, 179G, he received the local rank of lieutenant- general, and was appointed commander-in-chief under the presidency of fort St. George ; and in February, 1798, he succeeded to the military and civil government of the troops and territories of Madras. In December, 179S, the distinguished military talents of lieutenant-general Harris pointed him out to the dis- criminating eye of the marquis Wellesley, then earl of Mornington, as the fittest person to command the army against the formidable power of Tippoo Sultan, and an army was placed under his command that exceeded rather than fell short of 50,000. Against this over- whelming force the sultan adopted every plan of defence, but in vain. He first attempted to give battle to general Harris, and for this purpose he attacked the British army to the westward of Malvilly, on the ground where it intended to encamp ; but his splendid cavalry could make no impression upon the close, firm ranks of his opponents, and after the loss of 1000 men he was obliged to retire. He then thought to throw himself in the rear of the British army, and destroy its means of sub- sistence, so as to force it to retreat, with which view he occupied and laid waste the district through which Cornwallis had marched in 1791. But general Harris made this precaution useless by selecting a new and unexpected route : he crossed the Cavery at Sosilla, about fifteen miles to the east of Seringapatam ; so that Tippoo's destructive measures only fell upon his own subjects. The baffled and disappointed sultan now began HARRIS. 471 to perceive that his end drew nigh ; and having gloomily assembled his principal officers, he said, ' We have now- arrived at our last stage, and I wish to learn what is your determination V — • To die along with you,' was the nniversal reply. He took up his post before the walls of Seringapatam, and endeavoured there to hinder the progress of the assailants. But his efforts were in vain : European science and discipline were superior to the desultory valour of his followers, and the British bat- teries were successively formed and ready to play upon the ramparts. Indeed, these rapid and determined mea- sures were not more than necessary on the part of general Harris. He had been startled with the infor- mation, that either through waste or fraud the rice, which was to victual the army, was so much diminished, that only eighteen days' provision remained for the soldiers at half allowance. This unwelcome discovery was made on the 16::h of April (U9D), and therefore, although Tippoo endeavoured to negotiate, yet Harris would not delay the siege for an instant. By the 26th, therefore, the guns of the besieged were almost wholly silenced, and on the evening their trenches were carried after an obstinate resistance. On the 30th, the walls began to give way under the discharges of the British artillery; and five days after the capital was won, chiefly owing to the intrepid exertions of major-general Baird, who put himself at the head of the assault, and carried the city by storm. The sultan himself, who might have es- caped even at the final assault, disdained to survive the loss of his capital, and after fighting desperately like a common soldier against the assailants, he fell under a gate-way, covered with wounds. Thus the British power in India was delivered from the most formidable of its adversaries, and after this event it was established on a basis which none of the native powers were strong enough to shake. Many absurd rumours were dissemi- nated in England of the enormous wealth of Tippoo, and of the rich plunder that must have been secreted by the captors. But the truth is, that in the whole treasury of the sultan there were not found above £300,000. in money, and about as much in jewels, which were very properly distributed among the officers and soldiers. The following is the short and simple account written 472 MILITARY HISTORY, by general Harris of the capture of the capital of My- sore to the gorernorgeneral of India : — 'Seringapatam, May 7, 1799. * My Lord, — On the 4th instant I had the honour to address to your lordship a hasty note, containing: in a few words the sum of our success, which I have now to report more in detail. * The fire of our batteries, which began to batter in breach on the 30th of April, had on the evening of the 3rd inst. so much destroyed the walls against which it was directed, that the arrangement was then made for assaulting the place on the following day, when the breach was reported practicable. 'The troops intended to be employed were stationed in the trenches early in the morning of the 4th, that no extraordinary movement might lead the enemy to ex- pect the assault, which I had determined to make in the heat of the day, as the best time calculated to ensure success, as the troops would then be least prepared to oppose us. * Ten flank companies of Europeans, taken from those regiments necessarily left to guard our camps and our outposts, followed by the 12th, 33rd, 73rd, and 74th regi- ments, and three corps of grenadier sepoys, taken from the troops of the three presidencies, with 200 of his highness the Nizam's troops, formed the party for the assault, accompanied by 100 of the artillery and the corps of pioneers, and supported in the trenches by the bat- talion companies of the regiment de Meuron and four battalions of Madras sepoys. Colonel Sherbrooke, and lieutenant-colonels Dunlop, Dalrymple, Gardiner, and Mignan, commanded the several flank corps, and major- general Baird was entrusted with the direction of this important service. ' At one o'clock the troops moved from the trenches, crossed the rocky bed of the Cavery under an extremely heavy fire, passed the glaciers and ditch, and ascended the breaches in the fausse braye and rampart of the fort, surmounting, in the most gallant manner, every obstacle which the difficulty of the passage and the re- sistance of the enemy presented to oppose their progress. Major-general Baird had divided his force for the pur- pose of clearing the ramparts to the right and left. One HARRIS. 473 division was commanded by colonel Sbeibrooke, the other by lieutenant-colonel Dunlop : the latter was dis- abled in the breach, but both corps, although strong-ly opposed, were completely successful. Resistance con- tinued to be made from the palace of Tippoo for some time after all firing had ceased from the works : two of his sons v.-ere there, who, on assurance of safety, sur- rendered to the troops surrounding them ; and guards were placed for the protection of the family, most of whom were in the palace. ' It was soon after reported that Tippoo Sultan had fallen : Syed Scheb, Meer Saduf, Syed Gofa, and many other of his chiefs, were also slain. Measures were im- mediately adopted to stop the confusion, at first unavoid- able, in a city strongly garrisoned, crowded with in- habitants and their property, in ruins from the fire of a numerous artillery, and taken by assault. The princes were removed to camp. It appeared to major-general Eaird so important to ascertain the fate of the sultan, that he caused immediate search to be made for his body, which, after much difficulty, was found, late in the evening, in one of the gates, under a heap of slain, and soon after placed in the palace. The corpse was the next day recognised by the family, and interred, with the honours due to his rank, in the mausoleum of his father. ' The strength of the fort is such, both from its natural position and the stupendous works by which it is sur- rounded, that all the exertions of the brave troops who attacked it, in whose praise it is impossible to say too much, were required to place it in our hands. Of the merits of the army I have expressed ray opinion in orders, a copy of which I have the honour to enclose ; and I trust your lordship will point out their services to the favourable notice of their king and country. ' I am soiTy to add, that on collecting the returns of our loss, it is found to have been much heavier than I at first imagined. ' On the 5th instant, Ardul Chali'i, the elder of the princes formerly hostages with lord Cornwallis, surren- dered himself at our outposts, demanding protection, Kermin Saheb, the brother of Tippoo, had before sought refuge with Meer Allum Behander. A cowl-namah was yesterday despatched to Futteh Hyder, the eldest son of Tippoo, inviting him to join his brothers. Perneah and 474 MILITARY HISTORY. Meer Kummer Odeen Khan have also been summoned to Seriugapatam : no answers have been received ; but I expect them shortly, as their families are in the fort. • This moment Ali Reza, formerly one of the vakeels from Tippoo Sultan to lord Cornwallis, has arrived from Meer Kummer Odeen Khan, to ask my orders for 4000 horse now under his command. Ali Reza was commis- sioned to declare that Meer Kummer Odeen would make no conditions, but rely on the generosity of the English. 'Monsieur Chapue and most of the French are prison- ers : they have commissions from the French govern- ment.—! have the honour to be, &c. < George Harris.' The following letter from the East India government •was addressed to the Keutenant-general on the occa- sion : — ' Fort St, George, August 7, 1799. ' The governor-general in council now directs me to signify his particular sense of the fnmness, constancy, and perseverance, with which you subdued the difficulties opposed to the progress of the army through the enemy's country ; of the zeal and unanimity with which you inspired all the great departments of your army ; of the judgment displayed in the whole conduct of the cam- paign, especially in the passage of the Cavery, and in the position taken up before Seringapatam ; and the vigour and skill with which the siege was conducted. This great achievement entitles you to the gratitude and respect of the company, of your king, and of your coun- try ; and the governor-general has already discharged, with particular satisfaction, the grateful duty of stating to the honourable Court of Directors, and to his majesty's ministers, your eminent services, in a manner adequate to the honour and advantage which the British empire in India is likely to derive from the splendid victories obtained by the army under your command.' The successful general was promoted to the colonelcy of the 73rd foot, February 14, ISOO ; to the rank of lieu- tenant-general, January 1, 1801 ; and general, January 1, 1812. He was raised to the peerage by the title of lord Harris, of Seringapatam and Mysore in the East Indies, and of Belmont in Kent, August U, 1815 ; and was ap- HARRIS, 47.5 pointed a grand cross of the Batli, May 27, 1820. His lordship succeeded general Francis Dundas as g^overnor of Durubartou castle in January, 1S24. During the latter years of his life, lord Harris lived ia dig-nitied retirement at his seat in Kent, beloved and respected by all around him. He was remarkable for his clear understanding', his unaffected bravery, his kind disposition, and his simple manners. His death took place at Belmont, in Kent, in May, 1S29. One amiable trait in the private character of lord Harris reminds us rather of the simplicity of an an- cient Roman, than the loftiness and luxury of what is called modern refinement. He was in the frequent habit of boasting that he had been the architect of his own fortune. This he preserved to the hour of his death, and one of the clauses of his will runs thus : — ' To my estimable and much-loved daughter, Anne Lush- ington, and to her worthy husband and my highly esteemed friend, I leave £'200. each for a ring, or any memento they may choose of our mutual regard ; and to each of their children who may be living at the time of my decease I leave them mourning rings, ia the hope they may at odd times bring their grandfather to me- mory, and recollect that, under Providence, he imputes his rise from nothing to his affluent fortune, to his economy and willing privation from self-indulgence through a long life.' In another part of this will, he thus disposes of the splendid jewels which fell to his lot in the distribution of the Seringapatam prizes : — ' The jewels received by me, as part of the Seringapatam prize, I wish to entail as a memorial in the family of what Providence has done for it ; and to that intent I bequeath the same to my said trustees. Upon the same trusts, the gold medal sent to Tippoo Sultan by Louis XVI. of France, bearing very strong likenesses of him and his queen Antoinette, and which being found among Tippoo's treasure by the prize-agents (chosen by the army not only to take charge and to dispose of the booty taken, but to decide on the share each individual was entitled to), was by them, in the name of that army, sent to me, requesting my acceptance of it.' 476 MILITARY HISTORY. GEN. SIR DAVID BAIRD, G.C.B., K.C. This distinguished and experienced officer was de- scended from a junioi* branch of the Bairds, of Auch- medden, in Banflfshire. He was the fifth (but second surviving:) son of William Baird, Esq., heir, by settlement, of his second cousin Sir John Baird, of Newbyth, Bart. by Alicia, fourth daughter of Johnstone, Esq. of Hilltown, county of Berwick. Being destined to a mili- tary life, he was sent for a few mouths to an academy at Chelsea, famed as a school of military discipline, where the following characteristic anecdote was related of him. According to the routine of the academy, Baird was mounted one evening as sentinel, when a biizger boy, a schoolfellow, endeavoured to pass contrary to rule. The young sentry stood firm at his post, so that the other exhausted all his rhetoric in vain. ' I cannot let you go,' cried Baird with energy, 'but if you please, you may knock me down, and walk over my body.' He entered the army as an ensign in the 2d regiment of foot, the Itith of December, 1772; joined the regiment at Gibraltar in April, 1773, and returned to England in 1776. In 1778 he obtained his lieutenancy ; and on the 24th of September, 1778, the grenadier company of a regiment then raised by lord Macleod, named the 73rd : this corps he joined at Elgin, from whence he marched to Fort George, and embarked for Guernsey. In 1779, he embarked for the East Indies, and arrived at Madras in January, 1780. A cursory view of the state of affairs in India at that period may not be irrelevant. Of all the powers then in India the principal was that of the Mysore, go- verned by Hyder Ally; a man who, from a soldier of fortune, had become a sovereign prince ; and who, to military skill, united an active ambition and a refined policy, which have been po.ssessed by few European princes. As the neighbourhood of such a monarch ren- dered him formidable to the English establishments, it certainly would have been their most reasonable policy, either to conciliate his friendship, or to form BAIRD. 477 such defensive alliances as might restrain his am- bition. But instead of this, they contrived at the same time to provoke Hyder Ally and all the other native powers. In the year UGS, they rashly commenced a war, which Hyder most successfully terminated by dic- tating a treaty at the very g-ates of Madras. This treaty was altogether as moderate as the circumstances under which it was concluded wei-e absolute and decisive. The fact was, that Hyder Ally, being justly fearful of the Mahrattas, was desirous of aid from the English, and hoped to conciliate them by his moderation. The treaty, therefore, although it might have commanded every thing, took, nothing; containing, instead of concessions, a stipu- lation, that the contracting parties should mutually assist each other against any enemy. It was scarcely con- cluded, before Hyder, with his wonted sagacity, resolved to ascertain the faith and friendship of his new ally. Accordingly, on the commencement of the war with the Mahrattas, which immediately after broke out, he wrote a letter to the governor of Madras, requesting him, as a token of his friendship and regard, and for mere form's sake, to send an officer and 500 sepoys to his assistance ; but the government of Madras. evaded a com- pliance. In the following year, (1770), the Mahrattas having reduced Hyder to great distress, he made a second application, and appealed to the express stipula- tions of the treaty ; but the government of Madras again evaded his requisition. The ^lahrattas, continuing their hostility, so totally overpowered him, that his ruiu seemed inevitable. They became masters of all his open country, and his strongest fortresses were barely capable of affording him refug-e and protection. In this neces- sity, Hyder yet again applied to his new allies, stating the advantages they would gain by assisting him against a power, the overwhehning predominance of which already threatened the independence of the peninsula. These applications produced no more effect at Madras than the former. The company most shamefully eluded the treaty, whilst in their very evasion they acknow- ledged its obligations. The fortune of Hyder at length triumphed over all his enemies ; and, without the intervention of any, he pro- cured, in 1772, an honourable peace. The subsequent dissensions of the Mahrattas, and more particularly the 478 MILITARY HISTORY. eg^regrious folly of the presidency of Boinbay, enabled liim not only to recover all he had lost, but greatly to increase his dominions. After the direct breach of faith which, in his hour of peril, he had experienced from the government of Madras, it was not to be expected that he could again regard it with cordiality ; but he was too good a statesman to disclose his sentiments, and therefore he still preserved a civil intercourse. In this state of things he naturally fell into the hands of France, by which he was liberally supplied with artil- lery, and all other military necessaries. That politic nation saw the advantage to be derived from his friend- ship, in their future designs on the Carnatic; and their officers were permitted to enter into his service, and train his armies upon the European model. In this manner Hyder Ally prepared for the gratification of bis ambition and revenge. He hated the English with all his soul, and certainly not without cause ; and the com- pany, upon their part, blindly seconded all his efforts, and provoked every power of India into a confederacy against them. Availing himself of these opportunities, he concluded a secret treaty with the Mahrattas and the Nizam of the Deccan, to expel the English from the peninsula. Every thing was ripe for the purpose, and the English Company slept in a state of stupid se- curity, when, about the 20th of July, 1780, Hyder forced his way through the gauts, and burst, like a mountain torrent, into the Carnatic. No care had been taken to guard these defiles, nor did he meet with any other obstruction than what arose from the difficulty of the ground. Such was the nature of the war npon which the 73rd had to enter immediately upon their arrival in India. In fact, they had scarcely landed, before they were or- dered to prepare for immediate battle. Hyder's army exceeded 80,003 men, a force that was rendered still more formidable by the aid of Lally's troops, and a great number of French officers ; the English did not consist of more than 6000, commanded by Sir Hector Monroe. They were stationed at the Mount, in the immediate neighbourhood of Madras, and here they were joined by the 73rd, who were marched to the camp on the same day that they landed from the ships. Hyder, after a march across the country, which he marked by fire and BAIRD. 479 ?word, suddenly turned upon Arcot ; and on the 2lst of August 17S0, he sat down before that city, as the first operation of the war. Colonel Baillie, with a very con- siderable body of troops, -was in the northern circars ; and Hyder, by besieging Arcot, had interposed himself between this detachment and the main English army. Orders were accordingly immediately sent to colonel Bailiie to hasten to the Mount to join the main army; but Hyder effectually prevented this junction, by throw- ing his forces across the only road by which Baillie could reach it. After several movements on the part of the colonel, which were counteracted by his wary antagonist, an engagement followed at a place called Perimbancum, where Baillie gained as complete a victory as a total want of cavalry and the smallness of his numbers could admit. Even this victory, however, by diminishing his force, only added to his distress. The English camp was within a few miles, but Hyder's army lay full in his way, and he was moreover in the greatest want of provisions. Under these circumstances, the colonel despatched a messenger to Sir Hector .Mon- roe, with an account of his situation, stating that he had sustained a loss which rendered him incapable of ad- vancing, whilst his total want of provisions rendered it equally impossible for him to remain where he was. It ^▼a3 resolved in this emergency to send such a reinforce- ment to colonel Baillie as would enable him to push forward in despite of the enemy ; and colonel Fletcher, captain Baird, and some other officers of distinguished name, were accordingly despatched with a strong de- tachment for this purpose. The main force in this detach- ment consisted of the grenadier and infantry companies of lord Macleod's regiment, commanded by captain Baird — a new and untried force, and a new and untried officer. There were two other companies of European grenadiers, one company of sepoy marksmen, and ten companies of sepoy grenadiers ; in all, about 1000 men. As their security depended upon the difficulty of their way, as well as the secrecy of their march, colonel Fletcher refused four six-pounders which were offered, and set out from the camp at nine o'clock at night. An idea of the distress of colonel Baillie and his detach- ment may be formed from one circumstance ; every man of colonel Fletcher's detachment carried with him two 480 MILITIRY HISTORY. days' rice, with some biscuit and arrack, for the relief of his friends at Perimbancura. Hyder had such excellent intelligence of the English camp, that he obtained exact knowledge, not only of the design, but of all the circumstances relative to this detachment. He accordingly sent off a strong body to cut it off on its way, but colonel Fletcher and captain Baird having conceived some suspicion of their guides, suddenly changed the line of their route; and, by a wide circuitous sweep, through rice-fields and swamps to the right, added to the friendly cover of the night, had the good fortune to evade this danger, and, before morn- ing, to effect the desired junction. Hyder, however, was determined that they should not return so safely, and with consummate ability he prepared the trap for their ruin. The most difficult ground on the road which they were to pass was enfiladed by batteries of cannon ; and, as the time and circumstances of their march were known, large bodies of the best foot in Hyder's army lay in ambuscade on each side ; he himself, with almost bis whole force, being in readiness to support the attack. Whilst these real dispositions were making, a cloud of irregular cavalry were employed in various motions on the side of Conjeveram, in order to divert the attention of the English camp. In this manner arrived the morn- ing of the day (September 10th) appointed for the march of the united detachment; and daylight had scarcely broken, when the silent and expectant enemy perceived our unfortunate detachment advancing into the very centre of the toils which were laid for them. The enemy in ambuscade reserved their fire with admirable coolness and self-command till the unhappy English were in the midst of them. On a sudden, whilst march- ing in column, in a narrow defile, a battery of twelve guns opened upon them, and poured in upon their right flank. The English faced about; another battery im- mediately opened on their rear. They had no resource but to advance; but here other batteries met them, and in less than half an hour fifty-seven pieces of cannon were brought so as to bear upon every part of the British line. By seven o'clock in the morning the enemy poured down upon them in thousands, and every Englishman in the army was engaged. Captain Baird and his grena- diers fought with the greatest heroism. Surrounded BAIRD. 481 and attacked on all sides by 25,000 cavalry, by thirty raiments of sepoy infantry, besides Hyder's European corps, and a numerous artillery playing upon them from all quarters within grape-shot distance, yet this heroic column stood firm and undaunted, alternately facing their enemies on every side. The French officers in Hyder's camp beheld the scene with astonishment, •which was increased when, in the midst of all this tumult and extreme peril, they saw the British grena- diers performing their evolutions with as much pre- cision, coolness, and steadiness, as if under the eye of a commander on a parade. Our soldiers had only tea pieces of cannon, but these were so excellently served, that they made great havoc among the enemy. At length, after a dubious contest of three hours — from six in the morning till nine — victory began to declare for the English ; the flower of the Mysore cavalry, after many bloody repulses, were at length entirely defeated, and the right wing, composed of Hyder's best forces, was thrown into disorder and began to give way. Hyder himself was about to give the orders for reti-eat, and the French officer who directed the artillery already began to draw it off, when one of those unforeseen mis- fortunes occurred which totally change the fortune of a day. By some most miserable accident, the tumbrils, which contained the ammunition, suddenly blew up with two dreadful explosions in the centre of the British lines. One whole face of their column was thus entirely laid open, and their artillery overturned and destroyed. The destruction of men was great, but the total loss of their ammunition was still more fatal to the survivors. Tippoo Saib, a worthy son of his martial father, instantly saw and seized the moment of advantage, and, without waiting for orders, fell with the utmost rapidity, at the head of the Mogul and Carnatic horse, into the broken square, which had not yet time to recover its form and order. This attack by the enemy's cavalry being immedi- ately seconded by the French corps, and by the first line of infantry, determined at once the fate of our unfortu- nate army. After successive prodigies of valour, the brave sepoys were almost to a man cut to pieces. The British officers made one more desperate effort: they rallied the Europeans, and, under the fire of the whole artillery of the enemy, gained a little eminence, and formed them- Y 482 MILITARY HISTORY, selves into a new square. In this form, though totally •without ammunition, the ofiicers fighting only with their swords, and the soldiers with their bayonets, they resisted and repulsed the myriads of the enemy, in thirteen different attacks; until at length, incapable of witlj- standiug the successive torrents of fresh troops, they were fairly borne down and trampled upon, many of them still continuing to fight under the very legs of the horses and elephants. The loss of the English in this engagement amounted to 4000 sepoys and about 600 Europeans. Colonel Fletcher was among the slain ; colonel Baillie, captain Baird, after being severely wounded in four places, and 200 Euro- peans, were made prisoners. They were carried into the presence of Hyder, who received them with most insolent triumph, which the English officers retorted by an indignant coolness: — ' Your son will inform you,' said colonel Baillie, appealing to Tippoo, who was pre- sent, ' that you owe the victory to our disaster, rather than to our defeat.' Hyder angrily ordered them from his presence, and commanded them instantly to prison. He had purchased this victory at a very dear rate, for the slaughter fell almost entirely on his best troops, and the number is believed to have nearly trebled that of the whole of Baillie's army. Tbis loss is stated to have augmented the natural ferocity of Hyder's temper, and may be reasonably assigned as a cause of his cruel treatment of his prisoners. On the unhappy morning of this battle. Sir Hector Monroe, with the main army, had advanced along the Trepassore road, to meet the expected detachment. He heard the firing on his left, but was at too great a dis- tance to come up before it had ceased. It would seem, indeed, that no notion was entertained of Hyder's being engaged with the whole army in the action, and the firing was considered as proceeding only from the de- sultory attacks of his cavalry. At length, however, the repeated discharges of the appointed number of signal cannon, without any return being made, and the dead stillness which prevailed, began to excite some melan- choly presages of what happened. The successive arrival of two or three wounded sepoys— for not a British soldier moved— who had the fortune to escape singly from the carnage, confirmed these apprehensions, and BAIRD. 483 compelled tlie main army to think of their own safety. When the whole affair was known a council of war was held, and it was unanimously agreed that the only mea- sure of safety was an immediate retreat to Madras, which was accordingly executed. In the mean time colonel Baillie, captain Baird, and the other British prisoners, were marched to one of Hyder's nearest forts, and there subjected to an im- prisonment, of which confinement in a horrible dun- geon was the least cii-cumstauce. Captain Baird, in particular, was chained by the leg to another prisoner, as much of the slaughter in Hyder's army was imputed to the English grenadiers. He remained a prisoner at Seringapatam three years and a half. In March, 1*34, he was released, and in July joined his regiment at Arcot. In 1783, the regiment changed its number to the 71st. In 1787, he embarked with it for Bombay, and returned to Madras in 1788. The 5th of June, 1789, he received the majority of the 71st; and in October obtained leave of absence, and came to Britain. The 8th of December, 1790, he obtained the lieutenant- colonelcy of the 71st; and in 1791 he returned to India, and joined the army under marquis Cornwallis. He commanded a brigade of sepoys, and was present at the attack of a number of droogs, or hill forts, and at the siege of Seringapatam in 1791 and 1792 ; and likewise at the storming of Tippoo Sultan's lines and camps on the island of Seringapatam. In 1793, he commanded a bri- gade of Europeans, and was present at the siege of Pondicherry. The 21st of August, 1795, he was appointed lieutenant-colonel. In October, 1797, he embarked at Madras with his regiment for Europe : in December he arrived at the Cape of Good Hope ; when he was ap- pointed brigadier-general, and placed on that staff in command of a brigade. The ISth of June, 1793, he was appointed major-general, and removed to the staff in India. He sailed from the Cape for Madras in command of two regiments of foot and the drafts of the 28th dra- goons, and arrived in January, 1799. The 1st of February he joined the army forming at Velore for the attack of Seringapatam, and commanded a brigade of Europeans. He earnestly sought and obtained permission to head the storming party in this perilous achievement, and his request was granted. Every arrangement being com- 484 MILITARY HISTORY. pleted on the 4th of May, 1799, it was resolved to com- mence the attack at one o'clock, as the British knew that at this hour the natives were accustomed to betake themselves to repose on account of the heat. A few minutes before that hour Baird went among' his party to see that every man was in readiness, after which he advanced to the ramparts, and ascended the parapet of the trenches, waving his sword, and cheerinij on his soldiers to the encounter. His bold bearing upon the occasion was that of a knight of romance, and such was its effect upon his followers that they scaled every obstacle, and burst through the enemy's defences like a torrent. In seven minutes the British flag waved upon the outer bastion, and before night Seringapatam itself had changed masters. He was now a conqueror in that perfidious city where he had fonnerly endured such nnmerited suffering ; but notwithstanding the flush of opposition, and the pride of victory, every feeling of re- sentment was abandoned. When the enemy had ceased to resist, his humanity in checking the excesses of his infuriated soldiers was equal to the gallantry with which he had led them on, and his captives as well as the whole city were loud in their praises of his clemency. According to established usage, general Baird conceived himself entitled to assume the governorship of the town he had taken, and under this impression he took up his abode in the palace of Tippoo ; but lord Mornington (afterwards marquis Wellesley) had nominated his bro- ther to this charge, and thus he was superseded on the following day by colonel Arthur Wellesley, who com- manded a corps of reserve, but had not been actively employed in the capture. * And thus,' said Baird, * be- fore the sweat was dry on ray brow, I was superseded by an inferior ofiicer.' He could little foresee that this ' inferior officer' was to become the first captain of the age! In consequence of his distinguished valour in this important capture, Baird was presented by the army, through lieutenant-general Harris, commander-in-chief, with Tippoo Sultan's state sword, and a dress sword from the field ofiicers serving under his immediate com- mand at the assault. In 1801, general Baird was appointed to command an intended expedition against Batavia, but which was sent to Egypt. He landed at Cossier in June with the BAIRD. 485 army, crossed the desert, and joined lieutenant-general Sir John Hutchinson's army a few days before the sur- render of Alexandria. In May, 1801, he was appointed colonel of the 54th regiment; and in 1802, he returned across the desert to India, in command of the Egyptian Indian army. He was removed to the Madras staff in 1803, and commanded a large division of the army form- ing against the Mahrattas. He marched into the Mysore country, where the commander-in-chief, lieutenant- general Stuart, joined him, and afterwards arrived on the banks of the river Jambudra, in command of the line. Major-general Wellesley being appointed to the com- mand of the greater part of the army. Sir David found that his services could be of no farther use, and being chagrined with the injustice and neglect he had ex- perienced, he obtained permission to return to Britain. He sailed in March with his staff from Madras, and was taken pi-isoner by a French privateer ; but in October he was re-taken as the ship was sailing into Corunna. He arrived in England on the 3rd of November, having given his parole that he should consider himself a pri- soner of war; but shortly after he and his staff were exchanged for the French general Morgan. Sir David Baird received the royal permission to wear the Turkish order of the crescent, December 31, 1803; he was knighted by patent dated June 19, 1804 ; and was nominated a knight companion of the Bath on the I8th of August following. In the same year he was placed on the staff in England : he was appointed lieutenant- general, October 30, 1805, and commanded an expedition against the Cape of Good Hope. He arrived there the 5th of January, 1806; made good the landing on the 6th ; on the 8th, attacked the Dutch army and beat them ; on the 10th, the castle and town of Cape Town surrendered; and on the 18th, general Jansen surrendered the colony. In 1807, he was recalled. He sailed on the 18th of January on board a transport, and arrived on the 12th of April at Portsmouth. On the 19th of July he was re- moved from the colonelcy of the 54th to the colonelcy of the 24th, and placed on the foreign staff under general lord Cathcart. He commanded a division at the siege of Copenhagen, where he was twice slightly wounded ; and returned with the army in November. In 1808, Sir David was placed on the Irish staff, and 486 MILITARY HISTORY. commanded the camp on the Curragh of Kildaie. In September that year he embarked at the cove of Cork, in the command of a division consisting of about 5000 infantry for Falmouth, where he received reinforce- ments, and sailed in command of about 10,000 men for Corunna, where he arrived in the beginning of No- vember, and formed a junction with the army under lieutenant-general Sir John Moore. He commanded the first division of that army ; and in the battle of Corunna, on the 16th of January, 1809, he lost his left arm, which was shattered by a grape-shot, so that it had to be am- putated from the socket of the shoulder. For his services on this occasion Sir David Baird, whose name had already been included in the parlia- mentary votes of thanks for the operations of the army in India in 1799, for those of Egypt in 1801, and for the Danish expedition, again received the thanks of both houses of parliament. He was promoted to the rank of general, June 4, 1814 ; and was appointed governor of Kinsale on the death of general Sir Cornelius Cuyler in 1819; and of Fort George on the death of general Ross iu 1827. His own death took place on the 18th of Au- gust, 1829, at his seat, Ferntower, in Perthshire. The latter part of his life seems to have been consider- ably embittered by what he deemed the injustice of our government, in not having adequately rewarded his numerous military services ; and although he had been created a baronet, he considered himself justly entitled to a peerage. His duties in Ireland were chiefly of a civil character, and by the manner in which he dis- charged them he fully evinced that his talents were better fitted for the field of battle, than the higher and more important task of peaceful negotiation. GERARD, VISCOUNT LAKE. Geraud, first viscount Lake, was the second son of Launcelot Charles Lake, Esq., by Letitia, daughter of John Gumley, Esq., of Isleworth, in Middlesex, and was born on July 27th, 1744. At aa early period he was LAKE. 4S7 devoted to the military professiun : he entered the army at the age of fourteen, and made his tii-st campaigns in the seven years' war. He first obtained a commission in the first regiment of foot guards, in which he succeeded to a company : on the 2d of May, 1794, he was promoted to the command of the 53rd regiment of foot, from wiiich he was transferred to the 73rd, and afterwards to the 80th. After having served with credit in the American war, and in Holland, under the duke of York, and hav- ing attained the rank of general, he was appointed to the chief command in Ireland during the rebellion of 1797-8. On the landing of general Humbert, in August, 1797, at Killala, with a small French force, general Lake, who was stationed at Castlebar, was suddenly attacked by the invaders before his troops had been collected, in consequence of which he was obliged to retreat with the loss of six pieces of cannon. But he made ample amends for this unavoidable mischance by the effective manner in which he co-operated with the marquis Cornwallis during their subsequent pursuit of the French. The final defeat and surrender of Humbert at Ballinamuck, on the 8th of September, was owing to the vigorous at- tack upon the enemy by Lake, while they were retreat- ing before Cornwallis. A more splendid field of exertion was now presented to the subject of this memoir, in which he was to reap a high military reputation. He was appointed comman- der-in-chief in India, a. u. 1800, at a very critical period. The warlike Mahrattas were divided between two rival chieftains, Scindiah and Holkar, whose superior ascend- ancy threw the authority of the Peishwa into the shade, and menaced an entire dissolution of that alliance which subsisted between the Mahratta tribes and the British government. lu this case, the marquis Wellesley, who was governor-general, was apprehensive that the in- trigues of the French would allure the Peishwa to throw himself upon their protection ; an event that became more probable from the successes of Holkar, which not only threatened his rival's aflfairs with ruin, but those of his sovereign also. A treaty was therefore concluded betsveen the marquis and the Peishwa, in March, 1S03, by which he was to be restored to his throne, and on the British troops being set in motion for this purpose, the command of the advanced detachment was given to 488 MILITARY HISTORY. major-general Wellesley, now the illustrious duke of Wellington. This treaty, as was natural, brought the rival Mahratta chieftains to their senses, and instead of continuing their feud, they entered into a mutual confederacy to support each other against the common enemy, and subvert the alliance between the British and the Peishwa. But the governor-general soon de- tected this compact, and therefore orders were trans- mitted to general Lake to assemble the army upon the north-west frontier of the company's territories, to be prepared to act against Scindiah. This was done by the general with a promptitude and energy that greatly con- tributed to the subsequent success. The army of Bengal on the north-west frontier of Oude was soon in a state of readiness to commence operations as soon as hostilities should begin. This consummation arrived in consequence of the re- fusal of the confederate chiefs to accede to the marquis Wellesley's requisitions ; a refusal which was reckoned tantamount to a declaration of war, and accordingly general Lake marched from Cawnpore on the 7th of August 1803, at the head of an army of British and na- tive troops, to the number of 10,500 men. His first aim was to attack M. Perron, who was at the head of the French interests in India, and who was continually in- triguing among the native chiefs for the subversion of the British interests. Perron's force, consisting of 15,000 cavalry, was strongly posted near the fortress of Ally- Ghur, upon which Lake determined to turn his left flank ; he advanced for this purpose on the 29th of Au- gust, at the head of his cavalry, in two lines, supported by his infantry. The simultaneous advance of this bold onset so dismayed the enemy, that, after throwing out a large column of their horse which was soon driven back, they retired as rapidly as the British approached without hazarding a battle. General Lake then took possession of Gael, and summoned the fortress of Ally-Ghur to sur- render ; but this being refused by M. Perron, the French commandant, it was taken by storm on the 4th of Sep- tember, after an hour of desperate resistance. In this place the military stores of M. Perron were contained, the capture of which was of great importance, and ma- terially influenced the fate of the campaign. A few days after, the French commander wrote to general Lake, LAKE. 489 announcing that he had left the service of Scindiah, and requesting permission to pass unmolested to Lucknow, which was granted. Having thus quelled the French adventurers, the next aim of general Lake was to extend the British frontier to the river Jumna, and protect the person of the aged emperor Shah Aulum, who was held in a sort of honour- able imprisonment by the French faction. He therefore moved towards Delhi, the capital of the Mogul empire, on the 7th, and on the 11th of September encamped near the Jehna Nullah, within six miles of the city. The enemy, however, began to muster rapidly in front of the British encampment, and prepare for battle, having their flanks so well defended by swamps that they could only be approached in front, while their front was bristled with a line of entrenchments, and a numerous artillery. Their force also amounted to 19,000 men, while Lake could bring no more than 4500 into action. He endea- voured to allure them from their strong entrenchments by a feint, in which he was successful. After his ca- valry had skirmished with the enemy, and sustained a heavy cannonade, he ordered them to retire, which they did, making an opening for his infantry to advance, and the Indians mistaking this manoeuvre for a hasty retreat, rushed out from their strong position with shouts of triumph. But the steady advance of the British infantry stopped their career, and the charge that followed was so overwhelming that they broke, and fled in every direction. Upon this general Lake ordered his line to break into columns, and from between the intervals the flying artillery darted out and played with such eflfect that the rout was complete, while whole troops were driven headlong into the Jumna. Three thousand of the enemy perished in this engagement, and all their artillery and military stores fell into the hands of the victors. The personal intrepidity of the British com- mander was conspicuous during the whole battle ; his hoi'se was shot under him at the commencement, and in the charge of foot by which the victory was decided, he led it, at the head of the 76th regiment, through a dreadful shower of round, grape, and chain shot. After this victory. Lake moved his ground nearer to the Jum- na, and received a message from Shah Aulum en- treating the protection of the British government. The Y 2 490 MILITARY HISTORY. interview which took place in consequence, between the successful general and the fallen monarch, was touching in the extreme. Lake repaired to the royal palace of Delhi, which had once been so gorjreous with embassies and processions, to congratulate the descendant of Timour upon his emancipation from factious subjects, directed by foreign intriguers — but in the pei'son of the repre- sentative of those who had ruled oser so many kings and princes, he saw a blind, heart-broken old man, .seated beneath a ragged canopy, and surrounded by insignia that mocked rather than imitated the pomp and circumstance of royalty. But a gleam of sunshine was thrown over the last days of the aged and care-worn Shah Aulum, by the deliverance which he now experi- enced, and the promise of British protection, so that, in the hyperbolical language of his people, the interview was said to have restored sight to his eyes. The grateful Mogul conferred upon general Lake the second rank in the empire, under the high-sounding Persian titles of •The Saviour of the State, the Hero of the Land, the Lord of the Age, and the Victorious in War.' Active proceedings were still necessary, and the suc- cessful commander was again in the field. The army marched from Delhi on the 24th of September, towards Agra, and reached it on the 2d of the following month. This place was held by a strong garrison consisting of seven battalions, which encamped on the outside of the fort, and occupied the town and chief mosque of Agra. General Lake resolved to dislodge them, and ordered the attack, which soon carried the ravines, and the garrison craved a suspension of hostilities ; but during the nego- tiation, they treacherously renewed the conflict, by firing upon the British. The breaching batteries were there- fore opened once more, and in four days the fort capitu- lated. Thus the branch of the campaign which had for its field of operation the north-west frontier of Oude, was finished with an energy, rapidity, and success, seldom witnessed even in the wars and conquests of India. The powerful Scindiah was now to be assailed and humbled, more especially as that chieftain acted by the able advice and with the co-operation of M. Perron's partisans, whose troops formed the main strength of his army. Fifteen battalions of these, and two battalions which had escaped from the defeat at Delhi on the 11th LAKE. 491 of September, constituted the force of which g'eneral Lake now resolved to go in pursuit ; and having left Agra on the 2rth of October, he came up with them on the morn- ing of the 1st of November, near the village of Laswaree. They then sent a message to treat of surrender, and general Lake returned them an offer of the terms, upon which he allowed them an hour to deliberate. No reply being received after the hour had elapsed, the British infantry were ordered to the attack, and four British batteries opened a heavy fire, which, however, was returned with interest, as the enemy were superior both in number of guns and weight of metal. The 76th regi- ment, which headed the attack, was thinned so rapidly in its advance by the cannonade, that Lake judged it necessary to begin the charge with that small body of men and the few native troops that were already come up, without -waiting till his whole army could close ; he therefore led them on in person under a teiTible fire by which they were for a moment staggered, while at the same instant the enemy's cavalry made a dash upon them to complete their disorder. But the infantry received them with such a steady and close discharge that they were obliged to recoil : they rallied, however, in a few moments, and were about to repeat the onset, when Lake called up his own cavalry to encounter them. Their charge was brilliant and successful, and the rest of the British infantry, that had by this time arrived upon the scene, joined the attack upon the enemy's reserve, which was posted in the rear of their first line. The resistance at this point, as in every other part of the battle, was gallant and obstinate, but unavailing; the enemy, driven from their position and their artillery, after having vainly attempted to rally, were forced at last to retreat, which they did in good order. Nearly the whole of their army lay dead on the field of battle, or remained pri- soners to the British ; their artillery, camp equipage, money, beasts of burden, and provisions, enriched the conquerors, and soothed them for the toil and expense of such a victory. No effort of this campaign had tasked such exertions, or been crowned with such signal success : by it the power of Scindiah, as well as the influence of the French party, received an irrecoverable blow ; the Peishwa was restored to his authority, and the Deccan tranquillized. It is worthy of remark also that the greater 492 MILITARY HISTORY, part of the army by which such a triumph was achieved, had previously been long under anus, and in the course of forty-eight hours had performed a march of more than sixty-five miles. The commander also showed him- self worthy of such soldiers, by his skilful arrangements and personal courage. Setting the example to the whole army, he led in person all the different attacks on the lines, and had two horses killed under him. Indeed, the whole of this campaign formed a glorious parallel to that which was simultaneously waged by the illustrious Wellington in a difTerent part of India, and which was so distinguished by the victory of Assaye. On account of these services general Lake was ele- vated to the peerage on the 1st of September, 1804, by the title of Lord Lake, of Delhi and Laswaree (the places of his two greatest victories), and to the dignity of Viscount, on the 31st of October, 1807. After his return to England, however, he was not fated long to enjoy those honours which he had so amply merited. He was appointed to sit on the trial of that miserable traitor, or imbecile general, Whitelocke, upon the Buenos Ayres affair — and as if the calamities of that shameful expedition Iiad sent home a secret pestilence that was to cost us more lives even after all had been finished in the southern hemisphere, viscount Lake caught cold upon the trial, which terminated his existence after a few days of con- finement. He died on the 30th of February, 1806, at the age of sixty-five, and was succeeded by his eldest son, Francis Gerard, second viscount Lake. MAJOR-GEN. SIR JOHN STUART, K.B. Sir John Stuart was bom about the year 1760, and xvas the son of a Scottish gentleman who had emigrated to South Carolina, where his occupation chiefly lay in the back settlements of the province. According, how- ever, to the prevailing practice among the colonial fa- milies, the subject of our memoir was sent to England for the purposes of education, and this being completed at Westminster school, be returned to the paternal roof. STUART. 493 After the death of his father in 1782, he adopted the military profession, and having obtained the rank of ensign he first saw active service at the battle of Guild- ford, where he received a severe wound in the groin, the consequences of which proved troublesome in after-life. Little after this occurs in the military career of Sir John till 1795, when, having risen through the several ranks until he had attained that of brigadier-general, we find him serving under Sir Charles Grey, in the ex- pedition to the "West Indies. This campaign was singu- larly fortunate, as Martinique, Guadaloupe, St. Lucia, and several smaller possessions, fell into the hands of the British. During this campaign general Stuart found an antagonist who tasked the utmost of his skill and courage in the celebrated Victor Hughes, who had obtained pos- session of Guadaloupe, and organized a formidable system of resistance with the aid of the negro slaves. From the West Indies, Stuart was recalled to serve in another hemisphere ; and having obtained the command of the Minorca, or Stuart regiment, he embarked with Abercromby for the deliverance of Egypt from the French. His aid was effective in the memorable landing, and the movements which followed previous to the battle of Aboukir. The courage of Stuart was particularly con- spicuous in this terrible engagement. Perceiving that gallant regiment, the 4-2d, on the point of being over- powered, he hastened to its aid, and charged with the foreign brigade and the queen's German regiment with such effect, that the French were checked in their career of success, and driven back upon their own artillery. His conduct on this occasion elicited the highest appro- bation from his dying commander-in-chief, and the fol- lowing extract appears in the general orders of the army, dated March 24th, 1801 : ' The support given to the reserve by brigadier-general Stuart and the foreign brigade, was as gallant as it was prompt, and entirely confirmed the fortunate issue of that brilliant day.' Ou the promotions which subsequently took place, he was raised to the rank of major-general ; he also received, from the grand seignior, the insignia of the order of the Crescent, which had been instituted for the purpose of rewarding those whose valour had been most conspicu- ous in the delivery of Egypt. After the conclusion of the peace of Amiens, Sir John 404 MILITARY HISTORY, once more returued to Egypt, being sent thither on a special mission ; and as he visited Constantinople on his way, he had there a critical escape from the effects of Turk- ish treachery. The course of his diplomatic duties required him to confer with the principal officers of the Turkish government, and among these was the capudan pacha, whom Sir John had bitterly reproached in Egypt (and it is said also by something weightier than words) for his treacherous massacre of the Mameluke chiefs. The capudan pacha in the bitterness of his heart resolved to take full vengeance for this offence, and as the plague was raging with great violence in the city, he caused two infected persons to be brought to his house, that they might die in the small chamber in which he meant to give audience to the general, causing it also to be kept closely shut until the British general arrived. But Sir John underwent this terrible ordeal without receiv- ing the infection, and the malignant purpose of the pacha was happily disappointed. On the breaking out of the war which succeeded the short-lived peace of 1802, those officers who had served with distinction in Egypt were not forgotten, and the station which was intrusted to Sir John Stuart on this occasion was one of high importance. Bonaparte having been proclaimed king of Italy, proceeded to take posses- sion of the Neapolitan kingdom, which he easily accom- plished, by driving Ferdinand IV. and his family into Sicily, after which he established his brother Joseph upon the vacated throne of Naples. But the fierce and hardy natives of Calabria were too much attached to Ferdinand, and too impatient of foreign control, to obey a French sovereign, and therefore they took up arms against the invaders, and signalized their valour in many a desperate skirmish. This spirit of revolt was carefully cherished among them by emissaries from the Sicilian court, and it was at last thought that by the aid of regular troops their resistance might be rendered effec- tive. In compliance, therefore, with the wishes of the exiled court, Sir John Stuart, who commanded the Bri- tish troops that had been sent to defend Sicily, undertook an expedition to the opposite coast of Italy in aid of the insurgents. He set sail for this purpose, and disem- barked his troops in the gulf of St. Euphemia, near the frontier of Lower Calabria, in the beginning of July, STUART. 495 having- under his commacd a force that fell somewhat short of 5000 men. The French commander of Calabria was general Regnier, who had served under Menou in Egypt; and although he had seen the battle of Aboukir, and shared in the defeats and expulsion of his countrymen, his contempt of the military character of England was un- bounded ; he had even published a book, on the evacu- ation of Egypt, in which he denied every claim of our officers and soldiers to skill and courage, and proved, to his own satisfaction at least, that they might have been very easily beaten. It was now time to make good his assertions, and rout his adversaries in the field as well as upon paper — and in full confidence in his own skill, as well as his superiority in cavalry and the discipline of his soldiers, he left his strong position on the bank of the river Amata, and on the 4th of July ad- A'anced to give combat to the British on the open plains of Maida. At nine in the morning the two armies con- fronted each other, the British light infantry brigade, which formed the right of the advanced line, being drawn up opposite the 1st Legion, the favourite French regiment. The French troops were not only more nume- rous on this occasion, being 7000 strong, but consisted chiefly of well-tried and experienced veterans, while their antagonists were for the most part young recruits ; but in spite of this disparity the British advanced eagerly to the conflict. The opposed corps, when they were within cue hundred paces of each other, mutually fired a few rounds, after which they prepared for close combat with the bayonet. The British soldiers, who were in quick march for the purpose, were impeded by the blankets which they carried at their backs ; which their com- mander perceiving-, ordered the line to halt, that they might throw them down. This was done in a moment, but the French imagining that the pause proceeded from fear, advanced with quick step, and loud shouts of triumph, in the hope that their enemies were already half conquered. Never were soldiers more miserably mistaken : the British, disencumbered of their load, again advanced, cheered in turn, and crossed the bayo- nets of the French, who were confounded at this unex- pected boldness. Their ofiScers now endeavoured to make them stand and return the charge, but in vain ; 498 MILITARY HISTORY. they were paralyzed to fiad themselves so unexpectedly assailed where they had hoped to be the assailants ; and no sooner were the bayonets crossed than they broke and fled when it was too late to escape, so that they were pursued with great slaughter, while the whole plain was covered with their dead and wounded. The left of the French being thus completely defeated, a desperate struggle was made by their right to retrieve the day, and Regnier brought up his cavalry, in which arm the British were deficient; but such was the steady resist- ance of the infantry, that they threw off the horse from every point of attack. The French fled in all directions, and were pursued with great havoc not only by the British soldiers, but the Calabrian peasantry. — Such was the battle of Maida, which, although waged upon a small scale, was valuable in its moral results, as it in- spired the British soldiers with a confidence in their own prowess, that was of the utmost service during the course of the war. As for its political efi"ects, they were comparatively valueless, for it was soon found that the Calabrians were too ferocious and unmanageable to be converted even into irregular soldiers ; and as the ma- laria began to aff"ect the British troops, Sir John Stuart 7-eturned to Sicily, and resumed the protection of that island. As soon as tidings of this victory arrived in London, the Park and Tower guns were fired, and a Gazette Extraordinary was published, detailing the particulars of the engagement. A vote of thanks to Sir John Stuart was proposed and unanimously carried in both houses of parliament, and soon afterwards he was invested with the insignia of the order of the Bath, while the regi- ments which he commanded in Calabria were permitted to bear the word Maida upon their standards. He was also created a noble by the Sicilian court, under the title of Count of Maida. Soon after these public honours. Sir John was rewarded with the colonelcy of the 74th regiment of foot, and appointed lieutenant-governor of Grenada ; and he subsequently held the distinguished office of commander-in-chief of the western district of England. He died at Clifton, on the 1st of April, 1815, and was interred in Bristol cathedral. 407 LIEUT.-GEN. SIR JOHN MOORE, K.B. It is fortunate for the character of this illustrious commander, that success is not always taken as the cri- terion of excellence. It is frequently amidst difficulties and disappointments that those higher abilities are called forth which might hare been eclipsed amidst the blaze of prosperity ; and that the talents of a commander are exhibited more transcendantly amidst the emergencies of a disastrous retreat, than the triumphs of a yictorious advance. Thus Moreau was more illustrious for his masterly retreat through the Black Forest, than for his splendid victory at Hohenlinden ; and Sir John Moore has at length won his due share of that approbation, which has been conceded to his more fortunate successors, who entered his field of labour under more favourable auspices. Sir John Moore was born at Glasgow, on the 13th of November, 1761, and was the sou of Dr. Moore, a phy- sician, the well-known author of Zeluco, and other popular works : his mother was a daughter of John Anderson, laird of Dovehill. In his boyhood, he was educated at the High School of Glasgow, where he was distinguished for the gracefulness of his person, and a certain impetuosity of temper, which, however, paternal care and his own good sense soon repressed. When he had arrived at the age of eleven. Dr. Moore was en- gaged to accompany, as governor, the young duke of Hamilton to the continent; the subject of our memoir was taken with them ; and thus he had an early oppor- tunity of observing men and manners, and making a judicious choice of his future course in life. That choice was decidedly for the military profession, which was formed at twelve years of age, and all his subsequent studies were directed to this point. After having visited France, Geneva, Germany, and Prussia, in which last country his spirit was inspired by a truly heart-stirring military spectacle — Frederick the Great reviewing 40,000 of his soldiers— Sir John went with the travelling party to Italy, where he learned that an ensigncy had been procured for him in the 51st regiment, being now fifteen years of age. As the regiment was stationed at Minorca, 498 MILITARY HISTORY. he repaired thither, and joined it iu 1777. A garrison life, however, was not sutficiently stirring- for his active temper, and as the war in America was then raging:, Sir John wrote to his father, expressing his anxious wish to serve in that quarter. This was soon gratified by his friend and fellow-tourist, the duke of Hamilton, who, after raising a regiment for immediate service, obtained in it for Sir John the rank of lieutenant. The duke, indeed, who had been incited by a sudden access of chivalrous enthusiasm, held the rank of captain in this regiment of his own raising, and intended to accompany it; but when the period arrived, he had been visited by a new and more gentle inspiration ; for he married, and re- signed his commission. Lieutenant Moore reached the scene of war, and the Hamilton regiment, although com- posed of raw recruits, was soon marched into the fire of action. On one occasion his company, being attacked by superior numbers, took to their heels ; upon which he rallied them by his voice and example, and held the enemy at bay, although v/ith the loss of one-third of his men, until assistance arrived. While all commended his intrepidity on this occasion, he wrote the following naive and modest statement to his father : ' I got some little credit by chance for my behaviour during the en- gagement. To teil you the truth, not for any thing that deserved it, but because I was the only officer who did not leave his post too soon.' His services and merit soon procured him tlie rank of captain. He foitunately es- caped the disasters of lord Cornwallis's army at York- town, for he had left it for New York, before they commenced. On the capitulation that followed, and by which the war in America was ended, captain Moore returned to England, and on the peace of 1783, the Hamilton regiment was disbanded. During this period of tranquillity he devoted himself to study, and especially to that of fortification and military tactics, and on the downfall of the ministry, which soon followed the peace, he was elected a representative of four Scottish boroughs, through the influence of the duke of Hamilton. In 1/87, he was promoted to a majority in the GOth regiment, and afterwards in the 51st, in which he had first got his commission. His next step in the army was in conse- quence of our rupture with Spain, about the mercantile dispute of Nootka Sound. As the 51st regiment was MOORE. 499 ordered to South America on this occasion, the lieu- tenant-colonel, who was averse to such a service, retired, and his commission was purchased by major .Moore. The expected war, however, did not take place, as Spain made every concession, upon which the 5lst remained in Ireland until 1792, when it was ordered to embark for Gibraltar. After a short stay in this impre-;nable fortress, the monotony of which but ill-accorded with Moore's active temperament, his regiment was ordered for Toulon, to reinforce the garrison ; but before that ill-fated town was reached, general O'Hara had been taken prisoner, and the garrison compelled to embark. In consequence of this, when Moore had reached the English fleet under the command of lord Hood, he found it filled with the inhabitants of Toulon, who, after having fled from the revolutionary fury of their countr\-men, were fiddling and dancing, as if their sufferings had been a dream. But a new destination was given to the services of the 51st regiment, for the affairs of Corsica were no\7 mixed up with the changes of this all-engrossing war. That unfortunate country was oven'un by French troops, while its institutions were subverted by the new revo- lutionary principles of the French government ; and after a brave but unavailing resistance under their heroic leader Paoli, the Corsicans had placed themselves under the protection of England. They sent to lord Hood for aid to expel the French from the island, which they represented as an easy task ; but as that com- mander was doubtful of the truth of their assertions, from his bitter experience at Toulon, he selected two oflicers, one of whom was lieutenant-colonel Moore, who had lately joined the army of general Dundas, to ex- amine into the state of affairs, and report upon the pro- priety of the expedition. Moore landed with some risk, as the coast was wholly occupied by the enemy ; and after joining a guerilla party of the natives, with whom he explored the state of the country, he reported to lord Hood and general Dundas, that a landing would pro- bably be successful, and that the French could be ex- pelled. In consequence of these representations, and the reasons wirh which they were corroborated, the British troops were lauded in Martello Bay, on the 7th of February 1794, and Moore was detached with 800 500 MILITARY HISTORY. soldiers and seamen to march forward, and attack the enemy's works. But the French had employed the interval so well in strengthening their fortifications, that an attack by land was out of the question : the fleet then, attempted to enter the bay by forcing the Martello tower ; but this tower, although gai'risoned by only thirty-six men, held the whole British fleet in play for seven days. It was at length silenced, but the other works seemed still unassailable, upon which colonel Moore, who had examined a steep, rocky hill, about 700 yards from the enemy's chief redoubt, advised that cannon should be dragged up this precipice, and planted on the summit. This seemingly impossible achievement was speedily accomplished by the energies of the British seamen, who in two days hauled up and mounted two eighteen- pounders by the help of block and tackle, while another battery of smaller guns was planted on a neighbouring summit. The astonished French found themselves thus unexpectedly commanded by the British artillery, and after their ramparts had been shattered, they were assailed by three storming columns, the central one being headed by Moore himself, and which was the first to scale the entrenchments. The works and all the neighbouring forts were hastily evacuated by the French, who re- treated into Bastia. As the enemy were now collected in great force in this quarter, Bastia was blockaded by the fleet, and obliged to surrender to the British on the 23rd of May. Of the island of Corsica nothing now remained to the French but the town of Calvi,the siege of which the Bri- tish commander resolved to undertake. This was com- menced on the 29th of June, and as the place was of great strength, the siege continued till the 19th of July, when a practicable breach having been made in the rampart of one of the forts, it was resolved to attempt it by storm. The reserve headed by Moore was appointed to attack the fort, which was gallantly done amidst a shower of bullets, hand grenades, and shells, that exploded among them at every step ; Moore himself was struck on the head by the splinter of a shell that whirled him round, and covered his face with blood. But he recovered in a few mo- ments, and mounted the breach with bis gallant fol- lowers, who rushed forward with loud shouts, driving the enemy before them. The post was won, and bat- MOORE. 501 teries were raised upon it, which so successfully played upoa the garrison, that on the 2d of Augnst they were compelled to surrender. After this brilliant affair, the British commander invested colonel Moore with the duties of adjutant-g-eneral, as a step to farther promotion. The whole island was now rescued from the French— but here, as it has frequently happened, the blunders of British diplomacy counteracted the effects of British valour. The Corsicans, who only sought a protector at the bands of Britain, received a master in the person of Sir Gilbert Elliot, who was thrust upon them as viceroy; and before the simple islanders could recover from their astonishment at this undesirable boon, the new func- tionary commenced his ofSce royally, by quarrelling not only with the natives, but the British commander also. As might be expected, therefore, the island of Corsica could not long be a pleasant residence for Moore, who came in for an ample share of the vice-regal indignation ; and after several bickerings with Elliot, he was com- manded by the latter to quit the island in forty-eight hours. Thus unceremoniously was he dismissed from a country which his valour had so greatly conti-ibuted to deliver. But Sir Gilbert's departure was as abrupt, and almost as early, as his own. He invented a constitution for the island, which was modelled from that of Eng- land ; but so complex a political mechanism for a little country like Corsica, was as preposterous as the applica- tion of a powerful steam-engine to raise a bucket from a common fountain. The Corsicans therefore rebelled, and called in their old masters the French, who soon drove out Sir Gilbert and his impracticable system of government, after which the island was established as an integral portion of the French empire. The dismissal of colonel Moore, and the unfavourable representations of the viceroy, instead of retarding, rather promoted his military advancement, so that soon after his return to England he was unexpectedly pro- moted to the rank of brigadier-general in the West Indies. He joined his brigade in the Isle of "Wight, and set sail from Spithead on the 23th of February, 1796, to join the army under Sir Ralph Abercromby at Barbadoes. His able services under this gallant veteran during the West India campaign displayed the highest exertions of valour and military skill, especially in the debarkation 502 MILITARY HISTORY. at St. Lucia, and the storming' of Morne Fortune, in which latter achievement he used the same plan M'hich had been so successful at Calvi. Heavy ey fled across the mountains in broken detachments. Thus was Soult's left wing entirely routed and dispersed, and that commander, who had been employed on the British left, where he was gallantly resisted, did not learn of this disaster till towards the close of the day. He saw, that instead of hoping for victory he must instantly withdraw his army from certain destruction, and accordingly, he retired at nightfall towards the pass of Arraiz, closely followed by Sir Rowland Hill. A skirmish ensued on the succeeding morning, in which the French were driven from their strong position : they then retreated to San Estevan with such rapidity, that Wellington, whose route was necessarily very circuitous, was unable to overtake them in time, except with the light division under count Alten, which gained the flank of the enemy near the bridge of Yanci, and held them iu check for WELLINGTON. 569 several hours. Soult still continuing his retreat, reached the pass of Echelar, and on the 1st of August took up a strong position ; but on the 2d, he was attacked by his indefatigable adversary ; and here, general Barnes's bri- gade drove two French divisions from the strong posts they occupied. This event closed a series of operations extending over a space of nine days, and the consequences of which were ruinous to the French. They acknow- ledged a loss of 13,14S men, 2700 of whom were prison- ers ; but as more than GOOO prisoners were shipped for England, their estimate was certainly far short of the reality. The loss of the allied army was about 4000 Bri- tish soldiers, 2000 Portuguese, and 300 Spaniards. Wellington having thus established himself oa this part of the Spanish boundary, resolved to secure his hold by reducing San Sebastian and Pamplona, instead of carrying the war immediately into France, a measure which as yet he saw would be premature ; and as a fleet of transports arrived from England on the 19th of August, with battering train, ordnance, ammunition, and military stores, he was enabled to resume his operations against San Sebastian with greater effect than ever. The bat- teries were opened on the 26th, to widen the breaches that had been previously made, and on the 30th, a des- perate assault, headed by general Sir J. Leith, was made, which was met by the most devoted courage : the assailants were swept away as fast as they advanced, on account of the heavy fire of the garrison ; and as the tide was gradually rising upon the narrow peninsula on which the town is built, and enclosing the rear of the assailants, not a moment was to be lost. In this despe- rate crisis, Sir Thomas Graham tried a new experiment in gunnery, by directing forty-seven pieces of artillery to play upon the high curtain above the main breach in the face of the demi-bastion, while the soldiers were ad- vancing to storm — the shot flew only a few feet above their heads, and swept the enemy from their ramparts ! A casualty co-operated with this novel mode of attack, for an immense magazine of fire barrels, shells, and grenades, which the garrison had piled upon the ram- parts for their defence, suddenly ignited, and a tremen- dous series of explosions took place, by which multitudes of the besieged were swept from their stations. The British and Portuguese immediately dashed forward, 570 MILITARY HISTORY. and the town was carried in the midst of a dreadful thunder-storm that deepened the horrors of the conflict. Two thousand of the allied army in killed and wounded attested the desperate character of the assault, and the bravery with which it was encountered. During the whole night, the devoted town was in a blaze, while the flames revealed every excess of the conquerors, who were maddened with the losses they had sustained, and a thirst for plunder and revenge. Preparations were now necessary for the siege of the castle of la Motte, into which the relics of the garrison had retired, but the operations were retarded by the burning of the town, that continued for several days, until nothing but blackened ruins remained. The walls were at length bombarded with such effect, that after the castle was nearly a heap of rubbish it was surrendered, the French being allowed to march out with the honours of war. It was in the midst of these important events that Wellington was interrupted by a demonstration of the duke of Dalmatia. Soult, although he had been driven beyond the passes, resolved to make a bold effort for the relief of San Sebastian ; but Wellington, who had foreseen, also anticipated, his measures. Ho moved forward several divisions of the Spanish army, with certain British and Portuguese brigades to support them, which were strongly posted across the line of ap- proach at every assailable point. On the 29th of August, the enemy were seen assembling in great force at Vera, and on the morning of the 31st, they were in the act of crossing the Bidasoa, in three columns, at as many dif- ferent points, upon which a heavy fire was immediately opened upon them. The first French corps, which had already crossed the river at the foot of the San Marcial height, advanced up the steep expecting an easy victory, as only Spaniards opposed them ; but they were now to learn that the soldiers of the Peninsula had at length profited by the lessons of the British commander. The Spaniards, who saw their enemies toiling up the steep ascent in some disorder, immediately dashed upon them and drove them pell-mell down the hill into the river, in which many were drowned. A similar attack was made xipon the right of the Spaniards, but with the same re- sult. In the afternoon, a second French column, which had thrown a bridge across the Bidasoa and united them- WELLINGTON. 571 selves with the first, advanced simultaueously to the attack of the heights at different points. But here lord Wellington rode along the front of the Spanish lines, and addressed the soldiers with such commendations of their gallant conduct, that the mountains resounded with their vivas, and the French were received with such courage that they were again driven down the steep and across the river. The third column, under the command of general Clauzel, crossed the river, and endeavoured to force the heights that covered the right of the Spaniards, where they seemed for a short period to have succeeded ; but the Portuguese troops that were posted in this quar- ter were so effectually reinforced from the British, that Clauzel was obliged to retreat and recross the Bidasoa, which he accomplished with great difficulty. In these conflicts the French lost 3600 men, and the allied army 2623. The heaviest of this loss was sustained by the Spaniards, as it amounted to 1679 men ; but they had now rolled back the reproach which had long attached to their arms, and acquired that confidence in their own courage and efforts which would have been cheaply purchased by a greater sacrifice. Wellington, who knew the confidence he could place in them, had refused to reinforce them in the last attack, declaring that the honour of the victory, as well as the brunt of the battle, should be entirely their own. In consequence of this success, San Sebastian was taken without farther inter- ruption. The marshals Soult and Suchet now resolved to adopt a new plan of action. The former, with his whole army disencumbered of their guns, was to cross the Pyrenean chain by the mountain roads to the northward of Jaca ; while the latter, reinforced from France, was to advance between the Ebro and the Pyrenees, and join Soult with 30,000 men and 100 pieces of artillery, after which their combined forces, to the number of 80,000 or 90,000, could fall upon Wellington's right flank. But this bold and well-conceived plan was rendered useless by the British general assuming the offensive. Wellington resolved to cross the frontier, and carry the war into the south of France ; but finding it not prudent in the present juncture to move his whole force, he resolved to invade France with the left wing of his army. He therefore crossed the Bidasoa at an early hour of the morning of the 572 MILITARY HISTORY. 7th of October, amidst a thunder-storm that concealed his movements, and drove in the French pickets that t' were posted in the neighbourhood of Audaye. Three successive positions v?ere then attacked and carried by the fifth division, while the other portions of the allied army were equally successfuL^at the different points by which they crossed the river, except in an attempt to gain pos- session of the Great la Rhune, where the Spaniards under Giron were roughly handled : but on the succeeding night the French withdrew from that position also. The entire left wing of the allied army was thus established upon the soil of France, while the right occupied the passes of Ronscesvalles and Maya ; but although thus far success- ful the sufferings of the invaders were extreme, in con- sequence of those fierce changes of weather that occur among the Pyrenees, and sickness and death prevailed to a great extent among the soldiers. A still greater danger than even this, however, was to be apprehended from the Spanish and Portuguese troops. They had a long account of national injuries to settle, and had they been allowed to follow up their purposes of revenge upon France, the whole country would have risen as one man against them, and driven them across the frontier. But Wellington not only forbade every excess by proclama- tion, but sternly menaced every offender ; and the strict nature of his military discipline gave no ground to hope that punishment might be eluded. The French and Basque peasantry were also invited to remain peaceably in their villages, under the assurance that they would be protected from military license. These declarations, which were rigorously fulfilled, quickly softened the atrocities of invasion : the peasantry recovered their con- fidence and brought in abundance of provisions, so that the army was better supplied than it had ever been in Spain. On the 31st of October, Pamplona, which had been blockaded by the Spaniards under Don Carlos de Espana, surrendered, and the garrison were embarked as prisoners of war for England. By this circumstance the right wing of the allied army was now at liberty, and Wellington therefore resolved to direct his whole force against Soult. The troops were accordingly drawn from Ronscesvalles and the passes of Maya on the 10th of November, and in nine divisions confronted the French WELLINGTON. 573 left and left centre, through which Wellington intended to break. The attack was commenced at dawn by the British right centre, and the advanced redoubts were carried, so that the enemy were obliged to retreat behind the village of Same, which was their main position, being of great natural strength and also skilfully fortified ; but from this also they were driven by the on-sweep of the in- vaders. During the course of these events, the allied right, under the conduct of Sir Rowland Hill, was equally successful, having stormed the entrenchments on the left bank of the Nivelle, and compelled the enemy to take to flight to the mountains. A general advance was now made upon the right and left bank of the Nivelle ; the hills beyond it were carried, and the allies, having thus established themselves in the rear of the French right, would have cut it in pieces and taken Soult prisoner, but that the darkness obliged them to pause. As it was, they had carried positions which had been three months in fortifying, and captured 1400 men, six tumbrils of ammunition, and fifty-one pieces of cannon. Even in defending the frontier of ' la belle France,' it is to be observed, that the French did not fight with that intrepid confidence which they had formerly been wont to exhibit. It seemed as if they now felt that they were opposed to a leader of a very dififerent character from any former antagonist — one who had foiled their best commanders, and never experienced a defeat. After this engagement, Soult commenced his retreat upon Bidart with his right wing, apprehensive that his communication with Bayonne might be cut off, while the allied army advanced in his track. As the French occupied a strong position in front of Bayonne under the fire of that place, including posts on the Adour and the Nive, lord Wellington had resolved to cross the latter river immediately, but was prevented from moving by heavy rains till the 8th of December On the following day he directed the right of the army under Hill to pass at one point, while the sixth division under Sir H. Clinton crossed at another, and both movements were success- fully executed ; the enemy were driven from the river, and obliged to retire towards Bayonne. But it was now that the allied army discovered the full difficulty of the task they had still to execute. Soult's position was a small, compact crescent, of which the strongly fortified town of 5T4 MILITARY HISTORY. Bayonne formed the centre; while the allies, who were posted around it, necessarily occupied one of much greater circumference, which was liable to be broken at any point. This was Soult's expectation, and he prepared to realize it by an attack upon the weakened left wing of the allied army with nearly the whole of his forces. Early on the morning of the 10th the desperate conflict com- menced — a conflict of life-and-death importance, in which the gates of France were to be the prize of the victor, and which was continued during the three following days. On each side were exhibited the same skilful manoeuvring and the same desperate valour which had characterized the previous conflicts : but in them all the result was the same ; the French were repelled at every point. It was during this protracted and momentous engagement, which was not waged as hitherto for con- quest and aggrandizement, but national defence, that chilling tidings reached the French encampment, and found their way from troop to troop. The star of Napoleon was on the wane, and the empire which had been ga- thered under its auspices was falling in pieces. Hanover was emancipated ; the Dutch had proclaimed their inde- pendence ; and before the struggle had terminated, two German regiments came over to the allies. When the battle was ended on the I3th, Wellington had success- fully accomplished all his purposes. The French were confined within their camp at Bayonne ; their communi- cation with Saint Jean Pied-de-Port was cut oflf; a large and fertile tract of country was wrested from them, and they were deprived of the navigation of the Adour, upon •which they depended for supplies ; and such was the bavoc among their ranks, that in the last day's conflict alone their loss amounted to more than 6000 men. Soult, still confident in the strength of his position, made a new arrangement of his forces, by which his line was extended until it doubled in the rear of the allied right wing, while his communication with St. Jean Pied-de-Port was once more opened, although not by the direct road. Upon this Wellington made a cor- respondent movement to secure the part of his army that was in danger, after which he sent the bulk of his forces into their old cantonments, intending with more favour- able weather to commence a fresh campaign. While he thus kept firm possession of the most vulnerable part of WELLINGTON. 575 France, the cause of Bonaparte was daily declining ; the crisis was fast approacbina:, and the duke d'Angouleme, as the representative of the Bourbon family, arrived at the allied head-quarters under the assumed name of the Comte de Pradel. During the month of December the state of the weather kept both armies inactive, but at the commencement of 1S14, all were ready for action. A suc- cession of movements and skinnishes commenced this campaign, which was destined to be the most important in its results. The posts of the allied army were rest- ing on the Gave (or rivulet) of Oleron, when the British commander gave orders on the 21st of February to break up from the blockade of Bayonne; and on the 24th, Hill and Clinton, with their divisions, crossed the Gave d'Oleron at different points, while Beresford attacked the enemy's posts at Gave de Fau, and forced them to retire. The French army was assembled at Orthez on the 2.5th ; but Wellington, having forced the passage of the Adour in the face of every difficulty, by a series of skilful movements scarcely inferior to those that signalized the passage of the Douro, resolved to give battle. The position of Soult was peculiarly strong, and his army amounted to about 40,000, while that of Wellington was considerably diminished (in appearance at least) from his having been obliged to dismiss the Spanish troops on entering the French frontier, on account of their ten- dency to revenge and plunder. The engagement com- menced on the 27th, at nine o'clock in the morning, by a vigorous attack of the British and Portuguese upon the village of St. Boes, in advance of the French right, which was carried after a desperate resistance ; but from the heights beyond it such a destructive fire was directed, that they were unable to gain any farther footing. Wel- lington on observing this altered in an instant his plan of attack, and resolved to break through the French line at the angle formed by the meeting of its right and centre. By this rapid change, which was admirably executed by the allied troops, he brought an overwhelm- ing force to bear upon the key of the enemy's position. This decided the engagement : the French ranks were broken asunder; upon which Soult, perceiving that his case was hopeless, commanded a retreat to Sault de Navailles by the only road left open to him. In the mean time the French left, which occupied Orthez under 576 MILITARY HISTORY, general Clauzel, had fared no better : Sir Rowland Hill, who had effected the passage of the Gave above Orthez and placed himself in the rear of the enemy's left, per- ceived that the day was with the allies, and accordingly he pushed forward to intercept the retreat of the enemy at Sault de Navailles. Hitherto the French had retreated in good order ; but perceiving that they were placed between two fires, and in danger of being cut off from their rallying point, their retreat became a race, in which they threw away knapsacks, arms, and accoutrements, and thus lightened they scoured along with a nimbleness that extorted even the applause of their more heavy- bodied pursuers. They got first to Sault de Navailles ; but their rear column was overtaken by lord Edward Somerset, and charged so successfully, that many were taken prisoners. Had it not been for the ruggedness of the country, which prevented the British cavalry from an eflective pursuit, the loss of the French army would have been more severe ; but they had between 4000 and 5000 killed and wounded, and 2000 taken prisoners, with twelve pieces of cannon, besides sustaining a heavy de- ficiency in the shape of desertion, several thousands having abandoned their standards. The British, how- ever, had almost paid dear for this victory, as Wellington himself was sti-uck by a spent ball, which bruised him so severely, that he was unable to direct iu person the last movements of the army. On the following day, the British continued the pur- suit in three columns ; but the badness of the roads im- peded their advance, and marshal Soult, after reinforcing his army with the troops of the garrison of Dax, and some battalions of conscripts, continued his retreat in the direction of Agen. Still, however, the pursuit was per- severingly continued, and with favourable results, for Beresford took a large magazine of provisions without resistance at Mont de Marsan, while Sir Rowland Hill, with the right wing of the allies, attacked a portion of the French army on the 2d of March, and drove them from the town of Aire. At last, the weather interposed in favour of the fugitives, and the Adour was so swollen by the rains, that Wellington could not move forward until his communication with the different parts of his army by means of the river could be restored. Thus Soult had a breathing interval, and he resolved to retreat WELLINGTON. 577 up tbe course of the Adour to Turbes, and effect a junc- tion with Suchet's aimj-, by which he might transfer the war once more to the Pyrenees. In consequence of this plan he was obliged to leave Bordeaux exposed to the allies ; but he imagined that they would not dare to ad- vance so far, with Bayonne and a strong French army in their rear. But the course of events baffled his calcu- lations. The late losses of Napoleon, and the critical situation of France, now menaced on every side, had changed in many cases the whole current of public feel- ing, so that a desire was frequently and loudly expressed for the restoration of the Bourbons. Bordeaux itself was the first city that took a decided step in this re- action, by sending a deputation to the due d'Augouleme at the British head-quarters, inviting his arrival, and to assure lord Wellington that the British army should be received with welcome. Beresford was immediately sent thither with 12,000 men to expel the ganison, and give the citizens an opportunity to declare themselves. It must be remembered, that Wellington had no purpose to bias tbe French nation as to the form of government they should adopt, or the dynasty by which they should be governed : his only desire was Peace, which he thought could only be obtained by the downfall of Bona- parte ; and therefore he had hitherto checked, rather than encouraged, the pretensions of Angouieme and the exclusiveness of the Bourbonists. He wished to ascer- tain the unbiassed feelings of the people themselves, and be guided by the result. This neutrality was the more necessary, as the allied European powers, who were in treaty with the falling emperor, had not yet declared, and did not even seem to have ascertained their own future purposes ; and as the name of Bonaparte was still terrible, they advanced their unwieldy masses of troops into France to enclose him, with the same hesi- tation which hunters exhibit when they enter the lion's den. But the movement of the British troops upon Bordeaux struck the key-note of that popular feeling, which was taken up and continued over the whole length and breadth of France. The city, freed from appre- hension, mounted the white cockade, and proclaimed Louis XVIII. and the cause of legitimacy. Soult was in a fury at this unexpected event, by which all his calculations were baffled, and after publishing an 2 C 573 MILITARY HISTORY angry proclamation, in which Wellington was heartily abused, but to which the latter made no reply, the Frencli marshal resumed the more difficult process of encounter- ing his antagonist in the field. When the swelling of the Adour had subsided, the communications of the British army were restored, and Wellington having left a division under lord Dalhousie at Bordeaux for its protection, prepared to go in quest of Soult and Suchet. Soult in the mean time, having been reinforced, ima- gined that he now outnumbered his adversary, and in this confidence he resolved* to assume the aggressive. He accordingly set his troops in motion, and crossed the Adour on the 12th of March ; but his measures seemed now to lack that vigour and decision for which they had formerly been distinguished, for he did not reach Garlin, where Hill's right was posted, till the 15th. He found it too strong to be attacked in front, and he resolved to turn its right ; but on finding that it continued to be hourly reinforced, he lost heart, and hastened back to Lambege. It was now the plan of Wellington, who had called up Freyre's Spanish corps from the frontier, and otherwise reinforced his army, to resume the initiative, which he did on the 18th by an attempt to bring the enemy to action before they could repass the Adour; but Soult, preferring a retrograde movement, recrossed the river, and took up a strong position on the right bank. From this he was driven on the 20th, upon whicli he drew off to a still stronger position, formed by a range of heights covering the road to St. Gaudens : here, how- ever, he was again outmanoeuvred by his skilful oppo- nent, upon which he continued his retreat with such celerity, that he reached Toulouse on the 24th, and there determined to make his final stand. The allied army did not arrive till three days later, and Soult employed every moment of the interval in strengthening his po- sition and the defences of the city. The French army was posted upon the bold and picturesque range of heights called Moimt Calvinet, which were crowned with redoubts and flanking entrenchments, that cora- Tnanded the whole front of their position as far as the Ers, a deep and muddy river at the foot of Mount Cal- vinet ; and as this river at the present season could only he passed by bridges, Soult had destroyed them all except that of Croix d'Orade, on the Alley road. The southern WELLINGTON. 579 front of his position was defended by the Garonne, the wiiUh and rapidity of which river lie judged to be a .suf- ficient protection. Wellington, on having reconnoitred this formidable position, resolved to obtain a passage above the city, and thus compel Soult to abandon Toulouse. He therefore ordered a bridge to be laid immediately below the junction of the Arriege with the Garonne ; but on making the attempt, it was found that the distance across was too great for the pontoons to cover. But Wellington could instantaneously alter or accommodate his plans to every emergency, however sudden ; and he resolved to lay a bridge below Toulouse, and attack Soult's position in front, before the latter could be reinforced by the ad- vance of Suchet. On the morning of the 4th of April the bridge was finished, and the river was crossed by a portion of the allied army without interruption ; but the pontoons, with the weight of horse and carriages, and the sti-ength of the swollen current, was at length swamped, and no farther crossing could be effected until the floods had abated. Thus the allied army was cut iu two, and stationed upon either bank of the Garonne till the 8th, when the crossing was finally effected, and 45,000 men, of whom 8000 were Spaniards and .5000 Portuguese, were led to the attack of 40,000 French soldiers, protected by strong entrenchments. Fortunately, the dashing exploit of a body of horse under colonel Vivian had secured the possession of the only bridge over the Ers which the French had failed to destroy, and it was across this that Beresford marched with the 4th and 8th divisions to begin the attack. The battle commenced on the 10th of April at seven o'clock, the roofs and steeples of Toulouse being crowded with citizens, the anxious spectators of an event by which their own fate and that of the city was to be decided. Beresford's division crossed the Ers, and drove the enemy from the village of Montblanc, and Freyre's Spanish corps then rushed into action, striving to reach the French left, which was nearly half a mile distant ; but this latter exploit was conducted with more ardour than discretion ; for the assailants were driven down the heights with great slaughter, and the French had almost obtained possession of the bridge over the Ers, by which Beresford would have been cut off from the rest of the army, but that reinforcements arrived, by which the career of the 580 MILITARY HISTORY. enemy was checked. The Spaniards were rallied by their officers, and led back to the charg-e, and the French were compelled to return to their entrenchments. In the mean time, greneral Picton, who had been commissioned to execute a feint on the extreme rig-ht of the allied army, was still more unfortunate. He had been directed to divert the attention of the eiremy from the real point of attack, by menacing the bridge-heads that protected the bridges across the great canal of Languedoc ; but his ardent courage soon converted the feint into a real attack, and under circumstances where success was im- possible : the French entrenched behind a mound five feet in height, which was fronted by a dry ditch six feet wide and as many in depth, defied all the efforts of the assailants, and drove them back with great loss. The interest of the battle sYiifted once more to the French extreme right, where Bercsford having successfully estaljlished himself, directed the attack against Mont- audran and the redoubts on Mount Calviiiet. These attempts were successful, notwithstanding the extreme dillicultics of the ground and the strength of the enemy's entrenchments; and while theCth division, under general Clinton, scaled the heights, and established themselves in front of the French line, the 4th, under Sir Lowry Cole, were equally successful in the other quarter, hav- ing forced their way up the hill, and established them- selves on Clinton's left. A pause now occurred, which Beresford employed in bringing up his guns, which he had been obliged to leave behind at Montblanc ; while the French laid planks between their different works for the more convenient movement of their artillery. About one o'clock, when Beresford had finished his pre- parations, the battle was renewed with great fury, and Clinton's division was attacked both in front and flank by Soult, who hoped to cut it off' before it could be joined by Sir Lowry Cole ; but the (ith division charged with the bayonet, and so effectually, that after a desperate hand-to-hand struggle the French were borne backward, while two of their principal redoubts, which formed the key of their position, were carried. These Soult endea- voured to recover, for which purpose he changed his front, and returned to the attack ; but the fith being now joined by the 4th division, instead of waiting the enemy's approach, advanced to the charge. Tlie French were compelled to abandon their remaining works, which they WELLINGTON. 581 did in good order, carrying off all their artillery except a siiiijrle gun, after wbich they occupied a ridge of great strength between Mount Calvinet and the town, which they still seemed resolved to defend. Tlie allied army, wliich was now established upon three sides of tlie town, looked forward with eagerness to the expected encounter, and Wellington had made arrangements for cutting otY the enemy's retreat; but during the night Soult with- drew all his posts within the entrenched line behind the canal, thus abandoning Toulouse to its fate. In this engagement the loss of the allied army was greater than that of the French, amounting to 4G59 in killed, wounded, and missing. The enemy, however, confessed themselves vanquished by relinquishing their formidable works, and even Toulouse itself, in the defence of which they had resolved to ' bury themselves under its ruins.' But when the season of rest afterwards succeeded, in which they could ' fight all their battles o'er again,' by their fire- sides, they somehow discovered that they had not been beaten at all, but, on the contrary, had gained a glorious victory. This, at the worst, was a harmless piece of vanity : a more serious cause of regret is, that the battle should have been fought at all ; for Paris was alreadyoccu- pied by the allied sovereigns, and Bonaparte had signed his abdication, so that had the tidings been conveyed more rapidly, all this gratuitous bloodshed might have been avoided. If Soult had seriously intended to defend Toulouse, the resolution was very short-lived ; for on the night of the llth he retired with his whole force, by the way of Carcassonne, to join Suchet, and on the 12th Wellington entered the town. The white flag and white cockades now became the fashion, the imperial eagles had disap- peared, and the streets resounded with the cries of ' T'iie not re bon roi ! vhcnt Ics Anglais!' For this lat- ter exclamation at least there was good cause, for Wel- lington, in his attack upon Soult, had subjected himself to serious difficulties in order to preserve the good town from the damage of a raiidom cannonade. On the same evening tidings arrived of the incredible events that had taken place in Paris, and it was proclaimed in the theatre that Bonaparte had resigned all pretensions to the crown of France, and that Louis XVIII. had been called to the throne. Such events ^t first seemed im- 582 MILITARY HISTORY. possible. The puller-down of kings deposed! the 'child of destiny ' reduced to the fate of vulgar heroes! The audience at first distrusted their own ears ; and even when they were more assured, they could scarcely com- prehend the tidings. A low murmur first arose, but some time elapsed before it swelled into a shout of triumph, which was strengthened by the British officers, and the song of ' Vite Henri Quatre,' long disused in France, was loudly called for, to signalize the do%vnfall of Napoleon, and the restoration of legitimacy. But while contem- plating the fall of one illustrious personage, it is grate- ful to turn to the rise of another. In the following month, Wellington was raised to the ducal rank, and had £'300,000 voted to him for the purchase of an estate for the maintenance of his new dignity. Here, as lord chancellor Eldon justly observed when addressing the duke of Wellington in the House of Lords, was a fact unprecedented in the history of England. In the short compass of little more than four years he had been raised to the highest rank that the crown can bestow. It is gratifying to add, that not one title had been bestowed without its appropriate meed. Arthur Wellesley, whether as knight, viscount, earl, marshal, marquis, or duke, had paid the price of each successive step by some heroic deed, that will illuminate the pages of British history when, perchance, the pages of the British peei'age will cease to be consulted. As hostilities had thus terminated, the talents of the duke of Wellington were now exerted in behalf of his country in a civil capacity, having been appointed British ambassador at the court of France ; and on the 4th of May he arrived at Paris, where be was received with high and merited honour by the allied sovereigns, and the most illustrious personages of Europe, who were assembled in the French capital. From thence he has- tened, after a short stay, to Madrid, where the miserable Ferdinand, who had been restored to his throne, was em- bittering, rather than healing, the deep wounds of Spain. This priest-ridden potentate had dissolved the cortes, annulled the constitution which they had promulgated, and was striding onward towards absolute despotism at the hazard of a civil war and second deposition. The duke reached Madrid on the 21th, and continued there till the 5th of June, endeavouring to impress the neces- WELLINGTON. 583 city of moderation upon all parties, but in vain. Spain had not yet endured the full measure of that national affliction from which she was to learn wisdom. On the loth of June, the duke of Wellington rejoined his army at Bordeaux ; and as peace had been signed at Paris, he proceeded to break up the British and Portuguese forces, which, under his superintendence, had been brought into such a state of perfect discipline and efficiency, that he said of them, ' I always thought I could have gone any where, and accomplished any thing, with that army.' On the 23d he arrived in England, and five days after he was introduced as apeer into the House of Lords. That important event resembled a great national triumph rather than a simple act of official initiation; and as the general enthusiasm was equally prevalent in the House of Commons, he received the thanks of that august body by a committee expressly appointed for the purpose. He wished on this occasion to make his acknowledgments in person, which was granted, and on the succeeding day he entered the crowded house, being received by all the members standing. On this occasion, the principal merits of the noble duke were happily summed up by the speaker in the following appropriate and comprehen- sive words : — ' It is not the grandeur of military success which has alone fixed our admiration, or commanded our applause ; it has been that generous and lofty spirit which inspired your troops with unbounded confidence, and taught them to know that the day of battle was always a day of victory ; that moral courage and endur- ing fortitude, which, in perilous times, when gloom and doubt had beset ordinary minds, stood nevertheless un- shaken ; and that ascendancy of character which, unit- ing the energies of jealous and rival nations, enabled you to wield at will the fate and fortunes of mighty em- pires.' 1815- — Although peace had been established, it was the peace of exhaustion, not forbearance ; and France, chafed under the restraint of the allied powers, and irritated by the extravagances of the loyalists, began to exhibit a spirit of hostility, that only waited a moving impulse. And they did not wait long, for the ' Child of Destiny' was again in the field. We have been told by the wisest of monarchs, that the counsels of kings are inscrutable, and therefore we cannot pretend to divine the causes 584 MILITARY HISTORY. which induced the allied sovereigns to send Napoleon to Elba, an island within sight of France ; and still less can we conjecture the motives that induced them to furnish him with good, or at least plausible, reasons for escaping from confinement. As early as the 26th of February he left Elba, with an armament containing some 1,200 soldiers, and the allied sovereigns, who had latterly been exhibit- ing certain symptoms of disagreement among themselves, were restored to unanimity by the tidings. The empe- rors of Austria and Russia and the king of Prussia imme- diately published a declaration, by which they placed Bonaparte without the pale of all civil and social rela- tionship, and delivered him up to public vengeance as the common enemy of mankind. In the meantime every step of Napoleon's advance was an earthquake : the troops that were sent to apprehend him hurried to his standard ; the old soldiery of France, in whose eyes he was the incarnation of Victory itself, hailed his arrival as the commencement of a new era that was to eclipse all past renown ; and the unfortunate Louis XVIII. was left as solitary upon his throne as Mark Antony on the banks of the Cydnus, when the crowds forsook him to hail the coming of Cleopatra. In this strange emergency the labours of the duke of Wellington were incessant. After having announced to the allied sovereigns tlie landing of Bonaparte in France, he enforced upon the British ministry the necessity of instant action before the power of their tenible adversary had gathered to a height. But after the profusion of the late war, the British statesmen had been seized with one of their peri- odical ague-fits of economy, which made them shiver at the expense of a final campaign, so that they had not even called out the militia, by which they could have availed themselves of the troops of the line in Ireland, and other quarters, for the present crisis. These cir- cumstances necessarily occasioned such delay, that Wel- lington could not move till the 4th of April, on the evening of which day he arrived at Brussels, and assumed the command of the forces of his Britannic majesty upon the continent. The plan of the campaign which the duke recommended was fortunately adopted by the allied sovereigns, and their respective armies were so sta- tioned as to be ready for the expected attack upon what- ever quarter it might be made. WELLINGTON. 585 During these preparations Napoleon had not been idle. With an almost superhuman energy he had rallied and organized his dispersed veterans, restored the military magazines, and long before the allies were ready for the field he vras at the head of a most efficient army of 150.000 men, 20,000 of whom were cavalry. With such an instrument, a fearful blow was to be dealt, and he had only to look around for the victim. And he was not long in making the selection. He resolved to burst upon one of the wings of the vast military cordon by which the empire was enclosed, separate Blucher from Welling- ton, and then crush them in detail ; after which, success over his other enemies would be comparatively easy. His troops were, therefore, moved by rapid marches to- wards the frontiers of the Netherlands, and on the 12th of June, before daylight, he left Paris to take the command of the army, which he reached on the 14th. As it was his plan to take the allied army by surprise, his troops were set in motion by three o'clock on the following morning, and after driving in the Prussian outposts, they crossed the Sambre in the afternoon, in four bodies, at different parts of the river. The Prussian general, Ziethen, unable to endure the weight of such an onset, retreated before the French, contesting the ground inch by inch, that Blucher might have time to concentrate his forces. While thus the conflict and retreat were going on, marshal Ney arrived at the French head-quarters, and was directed by Napoleon to take command of the left column, consisting of 45,000 men, and advance to Quatre Bras, to separate the communication between Blucher and Wellington. The French marshal accord- ingly advanced against prince Bernard of Saxe Weimar, who commanded a portion of the Netherlands' army at Frasne, and who was obliged in consequence of his in- ferior numbers to fall back upon Quatre Bras, after a fierce but unequal struggle. Night at length put an end to these several conflicts, in which the French had been successful, although they had failed in destroying the communication between the British and Prussian armies. While these events of the 15th were going forward, the duke of Wellington, who was ignorant that active hostilities had commenced, was present with his princi- pal officers at a ball given by the duchess of Richmond 2C2 58G MILITARY HISTORY. in Brussels, when the prince of Orange rode into the court-yard at five o'clock in the eveuiug, and announced the first tidings of the enemy's movements. Soon after, despatches arrived from Blucher himself, in which the attack, was mentioned as a mere aftair of outposts. This information was insufficient to justify the duke in com- mencing any serious movement ; it might be a feint of the enemy to allure him from Brussels, that the town might be left undefended, and, therefore, the dance con- tinued until a little before midnight, when a second de- spatch came from Blucher announcing the whole events of the day. The drum was now beat to ai-ms ; the British officers bade a hxirried adieu to their fair but terror- stricken partners ; the streets of Brussels in an in- stant resounded with the loud din of a military muster, and the marching of the troops who were ordered for Quatre Bras. In the mean time Napoleon, who had passed the night at Charleroi, resolved to make a simul- taneous attack upon both armies; that against the British, for the purpose of keeping Wellington in check, to be conducted by marshal Ney, while that against Blucher was to be led by himself in person. Quatre Bras was occupied by the prince of Orange, by which the road that connected the British with the Prussian position at Ligny was kept open, and it was upon this point, therefore, that Ney directed his eflbrts. By five o'clock in the morning, a series of light skirmishings commenced, and Wellington, who arrived two hours afterwards, and saw that the prince of Orange main- tained his position with ease, repaired in person to Blucher, whom he found in a windmill between Ligny and Bry, with the army of Bonaparte manoeuvring in the distance preparatory to the engagement. The two generals held brief and hasty counsel, after which the duke returned to Quatre Bras ; but here matters had undergone a serious change during the interval. Ney had altered the light skirmishes into an overwhelming attack, so that as the British troops could only arrive at in- tervals, and by different routes, there was danger of their being cut ofl' in detail ; and as for the Netherlanders, they were already reeling beneath the immense masses of the enemy, and about to abandon Quatre Bras with- out a struggle. In this crisis, the elevated ground at Quatre Bras suddenly shone with a gleam of bayonets from WELLINGTON. 587 the arrival of Ficton's division, cousisting- of 12,000 men, \vho were rapidly formed in order, and opposed to the head- long progress of the French. Still the enemy pressed onward, and their cavalry, after putting several squa- drons of the Brunswick horse to flight, dashed upon our infantry before their squares could be regularly formed, and inflicted upon them a severe loss. The battle was every moment becoming more critical ; Wellington him- self, who had been exposed to the hottest of the fire, had seen many of his staff struck down by his side, and on one occasion he was almost taken prisoner by the French cavalry, when the 3d English division most oppor- tunely arrived, to sustain the brunt of a furious attack which was made upon the allied right, to obtain posses- sion of the wood of Bossu, and the out-buildings in front of Quatre Bras. The French were repelled, but the British, in attempting to prosecute their success, advanced too rashly, and were charged in tvirn and driven back by the enemy's cuirassiers. Even yet, it seemed as if the French would have ultimately succeeded, when about half-past six o'clock the Brunswickers arrived, by which the allied army was now equal to that of Key. The French were completely driven from the wood, and their commander, as a last and decisive effort, re- solved to call up his reserve from Frasne, and thus renew the battle— but he was paralysed to learn at this critical moment that it had been removed by Napoleon, to support his attack upon the Prussians. All hope of success was from that moment abandoned, and his ut- most attempt from thenceforth, was to maintain his original position on the heights near Frasne until the day had closed. The British remained masters of the field, by which they saved the Prussian army ; for it had been the expectation of Bonaparte that Ney would have been able to gain Quatre Bras, after which he was to envelope the right of the Prussians during the battle of Ligny, and thus ensure their destruction. While the battle of Quatre Bras was thus going on, another part of this complex military drama was sus- tained between Napoleon and Blucher, only seven miles distant. The bulk of the French army, under the con- duct of the emperor, assailed the Prussian position at three o'clock, and after a desperate resistance, succeeded in carrying it. ThL" battle, which lasted till nine o'clock, 588 MILITARY HISTORY, cost the Prussians a loss of 15,000 men, and fifteen pieces of cannon ; but the fierce old warrior by whom they were commanded secured their retreat to the vicinity of Wavre, where he formed a jvmction with Bulow. In consequence of this circumstance, Wellington was com- pelled to make a corresponding movement, and accord- ingly he retrograded upoii Waterloo, where, if attacked, he could depend upon the suppoi-t of Blucher, as Wavre is distant only about twelve miles. The allied army reached their position of Mont St. Jean in fi-ont of Wa- terloo at five o'clock in the afternoon of the 17th ; and only two hours after, Bonaparte's advanced guard ap- peared in the neighbourhood of La Belle Alliance. The night was stormy, and the rain fell in torrents, as each army addressed itself to an uncomfortable bivouac. On both sides there was the solemn conviction that the events of the succeeding morrow would decide the fate of na- tions, and a restless longing for the coming of day, by which suspense and uncertainty would be laid to rest. It was a fearful hazard which the duke of Wellington encountered, when he resolved to make a decisive stand at Waterloo. The French army, consisting of well-tried veterans, and animated by the recollection of past vic- tories, were at least 90,000 strong ; and they were headed by their most able commanders, and above all by Bona- parte himself— a leader who had hitherto encountered no equal, and who latterly had been rather overwhelmed than conquered, under tiie weight of a coalition against vhich valour and skill were useless. To oppose these the duke had about 80,000 men, of whom only 33,000, including the old German legion, could be relied on, the rest of his forces being a motley array, composed of soldiers of diflferent nations. In the number of guns the inequality was still greater, as he had only 120 pieces of artillery, while Napoleon had *270. But he i-esolved to abide the hazard, confiding in the strength of his position and the promised support of Blucher; while his soldiers showed the utmost alacrity for battle, under the recol- lection that their general had always been victorious. The ground of Waterloo, which he had inspected some months previously with a soldier's eye, and with the capabilities of which he was well acquainted, was ad- mirably adapted for his purpose. His army was drawn up on a range of gentle eminences, called the heights of WELLINGTON. 589 Mont St. Jean, that extended about a mile and a half frora east to west, in connexion with which were live roads, all leading to Brussels. His extreme left rested on the farm of Ter-la-Haye, and was protected by a deep ravine ; his centre was posted between two roads lead- ins from Genappe and Nivelles ; his left centre, in which he was weakest, occupied ground a little iu the rear of the farm, La Haye Sainte ; and his right centre was ia the rear of another farm, called Gomont, but which will be remembered through all time under the misnomer of Hougoumont. This place was the key of the duke's position, and so long as it could be held his right wing was safe. The right allied wing, composed of lord Hill's corps, was thrown back nearly at right angles to the centre, to accommodate itself to the form of the valley, and was protected by a ravine. Thus, with an open ground in front, and with his flanks defended by deep ravines, the duke was confident that his position could scarcely be turned. Even in the event of a retreat, also, the village of Mont St. Jean would afford him a good centre of support for a second position ; and if that was also carried, the forest of Soignies, which was at a little distance in his rear, and extended almost to the town of Brussels, would afford a safe retreat. Although Bonaparte was aware of the position -which the allied army had taken up, he thought that the occu- pation was only temporary, to secure a safe retreat. Resolved, however, that they should not thus steal away from him, he bestirred himself at the earliest dawn of the 18th, and brought up his troops to the heights in front of those eminences occupied by the allied forces, that he might overtake and destroy the runaways. But when he saw that his enemies still occupied the same ground, and were ready to abide the contest, his sur- prise was soon changed into a burst of triumph ; and he exclaimed, 'Ah! I have them at last — these English!' His hope was to crush them with the weight of his onset before Blucher could arrive to their aid, after which he meant to attack the latter while the Prussians were marching over the broken ground between Wavre and Mont St. Jean. His plan of attack on this occasion was extremely simple. He proposed to break through the centre of the allied army, or turn one of its flanks, and thus overwhelm it in detail; for which purpose it was 590 MILITARY HISTORY. necessary first of all to obtain possession of Hougoumont. He therefore sent orders to marshal Ney, who couiiuauded his left wing', to direct a lart;e force upon the farm and carry it; and accordingly 30,000 men in three columns, the first of which was led by Jerome Bonaparte, were detached for this important service. At half-past ten they were seen moving- above Hougoumont, towards which they approached obliquely, throwing out skir- mishers along their whole line ; and at eleven the battle of Waterloo commenced, by a furious conflict to obtain the key of the allied position. But the wood and outer fence of the farm-house were lined with skirmisliers, who successfully resisted Jerome's tirailleurs ; aud when the heavy French columns advanced to the support of their light troops, a British battery, posted within range upon the height above, opened upon them a tremendous fire, that for a few moments checked their advance. The assailants, however, brought up their heavy artil- lery, and answered with a cannonade equally terrible, by which a great part of the wood was gained ; the Nassau battalion, that had been stationed there to guard it, gave way, and the French still pressing forward, ad- vanced to the hedge enclosures, and endeavoured to pe- netrate into the garden. But here they were impeded by the felled trees with which every approach was blocked up, and attacked by the light companies of the guards, who lined the hedges, while a heavy fire from the loop- holed walls of the old chateau poured incessantly upon them. Again and again they repeated their attack, bu unsuccessfully, and were at last obliged to desist; after which the guards, sallying from their enclosures, reco- vered a large portion of the wood. After this repulse, the battle, instead of being confined to one spot, became general, and the cannonade on both sides was attended with terrible efl'ects. As a large force of cavalry was now displayed by the French, the two centre divisions of the allied army were ordered to form squares against the expected attack ; but the demon- stration was only a feint, and as the duke saw that his squares were suflTcring greatly under the incessant can- nonade, he withdrew them behind the slope, so that its ridge interposed between them and the enemy's fire. This movement, which took place between one and two o'clock, was mistaken by the French for a retreat ; upon WELLINGTON. 591 which several columns, led b^- count d'Evlon, were ordered to attack the left of the allied position, a furious lire being directed all the time against Hougoumont, to conceal their real intention. The attack was for a short space successful : the Belgian brigade, to whose keeping this important post had been assigned, were soon driven in ; the life-guards, who were sent to support them, were compelled to retreat ; and the French continued to ad- vance along the cross road in the rear of the allied line, until the gallant Ficton threw Kempt and Pack's brigades across the way, when the enemy were already within forty yards of them. Here a desperate conflict commenced, that continued for an hour, during which Picton fell while in the act of ordering a charge. But the corps of d'Erlon had been staggered by the steady fire of the British infantry, and before they could re- cover, lord Usbridge charged them with such an impe- tuous onset, at the head of a brigade of horse, that their formidable masses were broken in pieces, and driven back in great confusion. The British dragoons, on this occasion, pursued their success too far ; and when they were already exhausted with their efforts, the five of a whole battalion of infantry opened upon them, followed by a charge of cuirassiers and lancers, by whom they were driven back with great loss, after leaving the brave general Ponsonby among the slain. While the bat- tle was thus continued with such desperate fury on the left, Hougoumont had been repeatedly menaced by the troops of Jerome Bonaparte; but when the conflict had slackened for a few moments, in consequence of the gallant charge of lord Uxbridge, the attack upon Hou- goumont became more furious than ever. Napoleon's dispositions showed his resolution to obtain this impor- tant post at whatever sacrifice, upon which the duke of Wellington sent thither a reinforcement of 4000 men, who were advantageously posted in the wood, and about the enclosures of the chateau. It was on this point that the whole storm was now directed, and every part of the building and its adjacent scenery was lighted up with incessant discharges of musketry and artillery, under which whole ranks were levelled like grass, under the successive sweeps of the scythe. But fresh assailants still poured in, and the struggle was not remitted for a moment. At last the corn-stacks in the farm-yard and 592 MILITARY HISTORY. the building itself were set on fire by the French how- itzers, and a desperate hand to hand conflict ensued, amidst the blaze of the ronflagration, and the shrieks of the wounded and dying, who were perishing among- the flames. The whole building was soon a mass of charred ruins; but the assailants were at last driven back by the Coldstream guards under colonel Woodford, and the position was secured. In this manner four hours of hard fighting had elapsed, during which Napoleon had obtained no advantage : his effort to force the allied left had failed, and two attacks upon Hougoumont had been repulsed. He now deter- mined to assail the allied left centre, hopi7ig he should find it less defensible, for which purpose it was first necessary to obtain possession of La Haye Sainte ; and this position be resolved to carry at every hazard. Be- tween three and four o'clock, therefore, such masses were directed against it as made resistance hopeless, and the gallant defenders who bore up against the onset while their ammunition lasted, were at last enclosed, and cut down without means of resistance. After obtaining pos- session of the farm, Ney was able to assemble a large body of cuirassiers in a hollow between it and Hougou- mont, where they were protected from the fire of the British guns, and enabled to charge with advantage. But although the attacks that followed were of the most murderous description, the allied squares remained as firm and cool as if they had been drawn up on parade, while the ground after every onset was thickly strewn with their iron-sheathed assailants, who only charged to perish under the steady fire of their opponents. Nor was their fate better when they retreated from these im- moveable phalanxes; for they were followed by charges of the British cavalry, and encountered by men as brave but far stronger than themselves, against whose swords even their well-tempered panoply was but a frail protection. And still time was passing, and every mi- nute that expired was a knell to the hopes of Napoleon — six o'clock had arrived, and as yet the allied army stood firm, while the Prussians might be expected every mo- ment upon the scene, and their arrival would be deci- sive of the day. Onfe resource as yet remained to the emperor by a charge of his far-famed Imperial Guards, who had seldom charged an enemy in vain, and their WELLINGTON. 593 onset might be decisive by breaking- the allied centre, which was already exhausted by previous attacks. More than an hour elapsed before his dispositions could be made for this last and most important effort, after which, ail being in readiness, the guards received their wonted order from Napoleon — ' Let every one follow me!' He inarched at their head for about ten minutes, under a heavy tire of the English artillery, after v.hich he sud- denly halted with his staff in a hollow between La Belle Alliance, and La Haye Sainte, committing to Ney the conduct of this final movement. The guards marched across the plain that lay between the two eminences, a tremendous fire thinning their ranks as they proceeded, while the French guns answered the cannonade, and covered their advance. But from this heavy fire the British troops were almost wholly protected, the duke of Wellington having providently ordered them to lie down beneath the brow of the hill, until the word of command should be given. As for himself he continued tranquilly to watch the advance of the massive columns as they cleared the plain, and began to ascend the eminence of the allied position ; and when the critical moment had come, he exclaimed, ' Up, Guards, and at them !* The whole line sprung up in an instant, and received the assailants with such a volley as sent them reeling backwards. But the confusion of the Imperial Guards was only for a moment. They rallied, and were in the act of deploying, when a second volley was poured among them, after which the English guards continued to fire upon them by independent files. The whole assailing mass began to fall into confusion, upon which general Maitland led his brigade to the charge. This completed the discomfiture of the enemy, who fled in confusion. The French chasseurs then endeavoured to protect them, by taking the English guards in flank; but at that in- stant the extreme right of the allied army, under general Hill, which had not yet been engaged, and which had stood during the day at right angles with the centre, was suddenly wheeled into a crescent, by which the chas- seurs were enclosed and destroyed. Thus the last hope of the French had failed ; their last stake had been played, and lost. The allied ai-my had maintained its post, and night and Blucher, according to the often-repeated wish of Wellington, had come ! The duke at one instant per- 591 MILITARY HISTORY. ceiving the confusion of the French army, which was now in full retreat, and hearing the firing ou his left which told him that the Prussians had arrived, gave the order to advance, upon which the whole line moved for- ward to become the assailants. The French made even yet a desperate stand, but it was only for a few moments : they turned and fled, Napoleon himself being among the fugitives. It was in this final death-struggle that lord Uxbridge, who had headed so many splendid charges of cavalry during the day, and contributed so greatly to the •victory, was wounded in the knee by almost the last shot that was fired. Till after dark the pursuit was con- tinued by the British, until Wellington found himself on the same road with Blucher, who undertook to follow the enemy and prevent their rallying, a pledge which he redeemed with merciless fidelity. In the chase, the Prus- sians found nothing but panic-struck crowds, flying with headlong rapidity by the light of the moon, and whom they cut down and trampled under foot without pity. No sound was heard over the whole country but the useless cry for mercy, mingled with the war-whoop of revenge. The duke, who had halted his troops about two miles beyond Rosomrae, now returned with his ofiicers to head-quarters at Waterloo, in doing which, he was obliged to pass many a huge pile of carnage, composed of the bodies of those whom he had trained to arms and led so often to victory ; and we are told that he burst into tears at the spectacle, declaring that he had never fought such a battle, and that he hoped never to fight such another. In this great conflict of Waterloo, the principal features of which only have been briefly sketched, there was little of scientific military manoeuvring. ' Napoleon just moved forward,' writes Wellington, ' in the old style, in columns, and was driven oS" in the old style. The only difference was, that he mixed cavalry with his infantry, and supported both with an enormous quantity of artil- lery.' In such a case, the chief object of Wellington was to remain on the defensive and maintain his post until toe promised arrival of the Prussians — a i-esult by which the defeat of the French must be insured. While the French have asserted, that but for the arrival of Blucher the British would have been inevitably defeated, the Prussians have not scrupled to claim the chief hoaoui-a WELLINGTON. 595 of the victory, as if their arrival had uot only saved the British army from destruction, but occasioued the defeat of the French. But we have already seen that every attack, of the enemy had been foiled — that our troops stood firm and undaunted till the close of the engage- ment — that the attack of the imperial guards, which was Napoleon's last and decisive stroke, had been miserably unsuccessful. The emperor had done his utmost, and his troops were in retreat by the time the Prussians arrived. All that Blucher had to do was to improve a victory already move than half won, and to pursue an enemy baffled and retiring from an attempt that had proved a signal failure. But this veteran pupil of Frederic the Great certainly deserves high commendation for the zeal and activity with which he completed the victory of Waterloo. Undaunted by his defeat at Ligny and the force of Grouchy, which the emperor had left to hinder his advance, the Prussian marshal hastened to the con- flict, like the war-horse at the summons of the trumpet, and, in spite of every obstacle, arrived in time to inflict the last and decisive blow, by which all future efforts on the part of the enemy were rendered hopeless. But for this interposition, the baffled and broken French troops might have retired to their old encampment, and resumed the engagement on the succeeding day ; or they might have assumed some new position, and renewed the campaign under the command of that leader whose presence was equivalent to whole armies, and whose turns of fortune had been so wonderful, that none could foresee their limits or their termination. The superb army of Napoleon being thus annihilated, Wellington and Blucher resolved to push directly to Paris ; and the main bodies of their armies accordingly crossed the frontier on the 21st of June, without waiting for the arrival of the Russians and Austrians. On enter- ing the French territories, Wellington published two proclamations ; one addressed to the troops, reminding them that they were entering the country of the king of France, the ally of their own sovereigns; and the other to the French people, announcing that the allied army recognised no enemy but Bonaparte, and that the inha- bitants of the country would be unmolested. The march to Paris was still continued; and, during the interval, Napoleou abdicated for the second time; after which. 596 MILITARY HISTORY. commissiouers were sent to the two generals from the provisional government established at Paris, to treat for an armistice. The two commanders would not accede to the proposal, as nothing short of the restoration of Louis XV'III. was thought a sufficient guarantee for the establishment of peace ; and Blacher — more in the spirit of an ancient Hun than a modern soldier — demanded that Napoleon should be delivered up to him, for the express purpose of putting him to death. But this unworthy spirit of his colleague was indignantly checked by the duke of Wellington. ' You and I,' he said, ' have acted too distinguished a part in these transactions to become executioners; and I am determined, that if the sove- reigns wish to put him to death, they shall appoint au executioner, which shall not be me.' On reaching the French capital, on the 30th of June, it was found that an attack upon it would be a work of ditficulty and danger ; for the outworks and neighbour- ing heights were strongly fortified, while within were 50,000 troops of the line, besides national guards and other armed bodies, all zealous for the defence of their beloved city. But after a series of shai-p skirmishes, in which the French troops were unsuccessful, a military convention was arranged at St. Cloud, by which it was agreed that the French army should evacuate the strong posts they held and the city itsulf, which was fulfilled on the Gth of July. On the day following, the British and Prussian anuies entered Paris — and here again the revengeful ire of Blucher broke forth. Being indignant at the bridge of Jena, because it commemorated the defeat of his countrymen, he prepared to destroy it, and was only prevented by the determined remonstrances of Wel- lington. He then resolved to exact an oppressive con- tribution from the city; but here again the duke inter- posed, and the measure was reluctantly abandoned. Being determined, however, to revenge the injuries of Prussia in some shape or other, Blucher next bethought himself of the Louvre, and soon cleared its galleries of every work of art which had been carried away from his country. This appeared a deed of just restitution, and the example was too tempting not to be followed by the other powers, so that in a few days every statue and picture which the French had taken from different countries was reclaimed by the original owners. In the WELLINGTON. 597 mean time, Bonaparte, who thus saw tlie downfall of his grandeux- and the termination of his political history, con- tinued to linger at Rochefort, hoping in some unguarded moment to evade the Tigrilance of the British cruizers, and escape to America. But, finding the coast too strictly watched, he was obliged to deliver himself up to captain IMaitland, of the Bellerophon, on the 15th of July, by whom he was brought to England, to wait the award of the British court. And who can forget that award ? As long as the rocky island of St. Helena shall endure, so long will the fate of the heart broken exile be remem- bered and deplored. It is here that the military history of the duke of Wellington terminates. As yet he had but attained the mid day of life: but how full of stii-ring events; and how much had already been done for the present and the future, for fame and posterity ! In looking back upon the military history of England, where shall we find his parallel '. Not even in Marlborough ; for al- though the hero of Blenheim achieved many a splendid triumph, it was not over such redoubted leaders as Junot, Marmout, Jourdan, Victor, Soult, Ney, Massena, and finally Napoleon himself. Into the long and distin- guished political career to which the duke of Wellington was called, after the victory of Waterloo had restoi-ed peace to Europe, it is not our province to enter. It is sufficient to state, that it has been rendered, perhaps, as illustrious as his military course, and precisely tiirough the exertion of the same noble qualities which made him unrivalled in the field — firmness, caution, sagacity, and foresight, all animated by devoted patriotism, and ele- vated by moral rectitude. 598 MILITARY HISTORY. ROWLAND HILL, BARON HILL OK ALMAREZ AND OF HAWKESTONE, SHROl'SHIUE. A HERO cannot live and act alone. He requires the co-operation of kindred spirits for the successful accom- plishment of his gigantic purposes and the full completion of his greatness. But, fortunately for his fame, such assistants are not long wanting. The very commence- ment of his career, so unlike that of other men, is an electric impulse that kindles every heart in which the heroic principle is implanted ; and, in the continuation of his course, they rally around him as their common centre, and become the instruments, as well as the pupils, of his successes, by which they acquire a repu- tation only inferior to his own. Such was eminently the case with Napoleon and our own Wellington, under whom were reared the rival Titans of what miglit be termed a ' war of the giants.' And, as a work recording the triumphs of British heroism would be incomplete without a notice of those distinguished individuals by whom the victories of the great captain of the age were accomplished, we cannot more fitly conclude our labours than with brief notices of the principal commanders who served under the duke of Wellington. Of these, our present illustrious Commander-in-chief naturally demands our first attention. Lord Hill commenced his military career in 17Q0,in the 38tb regiment. His promotion was rapid ; for at Toulon, three years afterwards, having previously obtained a company, he served upon the respective staffs of lord Mulgrave and generals O'Hara and Dundas. Captain Hill was wounded when general O'Hara was made pri- soner; and was sent with the despatches to England by Sir David Dundas, when Toulon was evacuated. After the close of this unfortunate expedition, he was appointed to the command of the 00th regiment, and accompanied it to Egypt. In the action of the 13th of March he par- ticularly distinguished himself, and was severely wounded in the head by a spent ball. On the 1st of January he was promoted to a brevet colonelcy, and, with the rank HILL. 599 of brigadier-general, was appointed to the Irish staff. On being made a major-general, and placed upon lord Cath- cart's staff in his expedition to Hanover, the freedom of the city of Cork was presented to general Hill, as a token of their respect, by the inhabitants. Early in the summer of 180S, he embarked at Cork for the Peninsula ; and in the battles of Rolifa and Vimiero, he commanded a brigade under Sir Arthur Wellesley. General Hill served afterwards under Sir John Moore, coifimanding a corps during the retreat, and the reserve at Corunna. On Wellington's return to Portugal, Hill went out with him ; and, through the long and glorious struggle that ensued, he not only shared in the triumphs of his im- mortal leader, but eminently distinguished himself in separate commands. In the passage of the Douro (I2th of May, 1S09), when Sir Edward Paget was wounded. Hill succeeded to the command, and held the Seminary against overwhelming numbers, until assistance from the other shore, and the appearance of Murray's brigade from Avintas, obliged Soult to commence a retreat, which was equally celebrated for its ability and its mis- fortunes. To record the numerous and important services of this distinguished commander would be almost to epitomise the Peninsular campaigns. At Talavera he was slightly ■wounded, when commanding a division ; and as one of the principal efforts of the enemy w^as made against his division, the manner in whicti it was received and re- pulsed added considerably to lord Hill's reputation. So far the subject of this memoir was fortunate as a lieu tenant; but the period soon arrived when he had an op- portunity of distinguishing himself in separate commands, where the glory was all his own. His surprise of Girard at Arrayo de Molinas was a bold and masterly operation, being admirably planned and executed with rapidity and spirit. Fifteen hundred prisoners, including general Brune and the duke d'Aremberg, a colonel of chasseurs, and the chief of the staflf, felf into the hands of the British ; and had not Girard's first division moved at daylight from the village, there can be little doubt but that the French loss would have been considerably aug- mented. It was a strange coincidence, and one which amused not a little the British army, that a battalion of the French 34th regiment was attacked at AiTayo de 600 MILITARY HISTORY. Molinas, and taken by a wing of the 34th Ent,'lish. Tha brass drums of that corps, and the baton of their drum- major, with ' Austerlitz ' and the eagle engraven on it, are still in the possession of the English 34t!i, as the treasured trophies of that important and well-fought action. The next exploit of Sir Rowland Hill was the de- struction of the bridge of boats at Almarez, by which the French matshal (Marmont) had secured the passage of the Tagus. Aware of the deep importance of the bridge to all further operations, no pains had been spared by the French engiTieers to secure it effectually against sur- prise. On the right bank it was protected by a strong- redoubt, called Fort Ilagusa, flanked by ajiic/ic reaching to the side of the Tagus. On the left bank a tetc-du-pont had been constructed, and this was immediately under the guns of Fort Napoleon, a very extensive redoubt, with a loop holed tower and accommodation for a garri- son of 500 men. The limits of this brief notice will only permit us to say, that Hill's attack had all the good for- tune a well designed and bravely-executed enterprise deserved. The works were carried by the bayonet ; the garrison was driven in confusion across the river, in which many fugitives perished in their hurry to escape ; and 250 were made prisoners. The works were dis- mantled and blown up; the guns thrown into the river; the bridge, pontoons, palisades, and every thing com- bustible, were burned; and the whole of the service was most completely effected, with a loss on the part of the Kritish that was comparatively trifling. The third occasion on which lord Hill particularly dis- tinguished himself was upon the Nive, in the battle of the 13th of December, 1813. On the night of the 12th, Soult, passing through Bayonne with a considerable force, issued at daylight ft-om his intrenchments, and fell upon Hill's corps with nearly 30,000 men. With not more than half that number of British and Portuguese troops Sir Rowland vigorously resisted, and foiled the French marshal in his furious and repeated efl'orts to carry the English position. At last, wearied and dis- comfited, the duke of Dalmatia ordered his columns to retire; but he was followed closely by the English gene- ral, who forced the French from a height on which their infantry bad formed, and drove them ofl' the ground. ANGLESEY. 601 with the loss of two pieces of artillery. No contest during the Peninsular struggle was more honourable to the British arms than that of the 13th of December; and the frank and manly declaration of lord Wellington, when he came up after the battle, ' Hill, the day's your own!' showed how highly he estimated the gallantry and talent of his lieutenant. For these glorious and important services, Sir Rowland Hill received the grand cross of the Bath, the govern- ment of Blackness Castle, the Portuguese order of the Tower and Sword, the freedom of the city of London, the government of Hull, and lastly, on the 3rd of May, 1814, he was raised to the peerage, by the style and title of baron Hill, of Almarez, and of Hawkestone, Shropshire. He is also a G.C.H., K.M.T., K.S.G., and D.C.L. As commander-in-chief of the British army, lord Hill's conduct has given universal satisfaction. The welfare of the service seems the mainspring of all his actions ; and the strictest impartiality characterises every appointment that issues from the War Office. HENRY WILLIAM BALEY PAGET, MARQUIS OF ANGLESEY, EARL OF UXBRIDGE, &C. This gallant officer, distinguished as much by his emi- nent services in the organization and development of the cavalry force of his country, as by those which he ren- dered in her battle-fields, was the eldest son of Henry, lord Paget, the third earl of Uxbridge. He was born on the 17th of May, 1763; and received his education at the public school of Westminster and the university of Ox- ford. His father had been himself a soldier, honoured with the confidence of his sovereign ; and on the break- ing out of the French revolution, and in the prospect of the wars which it originated, he eagerly seconded the disposition of the young Henry William to take a share in the vast military movements which were in pre- paration. A fine body of young men was accordingly raised on the earl's estates, which was subsequently organized as the 10th regiment of foot, or Staffordshire volunteers, and of which lord Paget was appointed lieu- 2 D 602 MILITARY HISTORY. tenant-colonel. At the head of this gallant corps, be made his earliest military essay, under the duke of York, in the first campaign of the British army in Flanders ; and there, during the temporary absence of lord Cathcart, had the distinction of replacing that officer for a period at the head of the brigade. On his return to England, he was sent to Ipswich, with the 7th light dragoons and other bodies of cavalry under his command ; and here it was that his lordship commenced that series of evolutions, and laid the foundation of that system of discipline and duty, which eflFected an entire revolution in cavalry practice. Indeed, it was chiefly through the unwearied zeal and diligence of lord Paget that our cavalry became the formidable and effective instrument ■which it proved itself to be in the laurelled fields of the Peninsula and on the dreadful day of Waterloo. Towards the close of the year 1808, lord Paget was sent into Spain with two brigades of cavalry, to strengthen the corps of the army under Sir David Baird, which was marching through Galicia, for the purpose of effecting a junction with the main body, advancing upon Salamanca under the brave but unfortunate Sir John Moore. But the treachery and incapacity of those whom he had come to serve, with the strong front presented by the armies of Soult and Junot (prepared to combine their forces), added to the daily increasing rumours that Napoleon was about to advance in person, with the whole disposable strength of the French troops in Spain, compelled the British commander to commence that memorable retreat to the sea, through an exhausted country, and in the face of an enemy of overwhelming numbers, which ended in the extrication of his army from the toils into which he had been so wantonly led, and his own de- struction, but by a soldier's death and in the arms of victory. The wliole of that disastrous retreat was covered by lord Paget's cavalry, with a gallantry in which the best parts of the spiiit of chivalry were combined with the improved tactics of modern warfare. Day after day did their intrepid leader lead them on to some dashing, yet well-conducted, enterprise, ending with the glorious one of Corunna, in which he brought up his reserve to the support of the British left wing, and turned the for- tunes of the day in that direction. Had the list of his services terminated at this period, he must have carried ANGLESEY. 603 v.'ith him from the Spanish coast the reputation of one of the most gallant of the many gallant spirits which those stirring times produced, and the most brilliant cavalry officer of his time. From 1S06 to 1812, lord Paget sat in the House of Commons as representative for Melbourne Port ; the death of his father, in the latter year, removed him, as earl of Uxbridge,to the House of Peei-s. But his natural scene of action was the battle plain ; and events were preparing employment for his genius on its more cha- racteristic ground. Napoleon's sudden burst into France from his island cage, set all his keepers in motion to secure the untamed lion ; and the command of the large cavalry forces attached to the British army under Wel- lington was given, by a happy appointment, to the earl of Usbridge. His bearing and exploits on that field of gallant deeds have been the theme of minstrel, orator, and historian ; and are too familiar, in all their incidents, to need repetition here. Conspicuous for his bravery where all were brave, leading on his brig-ades to charge after charge, and exciting applause even among the French officers, who saw in his bold bearing their own chief ' of the snow-white plume,' the gallant Murat, he contributed largely to the success of the ope- rations by which the day was won, and left a limb behind him, to attest the gallantry with which his per- son was exposed to the fearful accidents of the field. One of the last shots fired by the flying foe struck his lordship on the right thigh, inflicting a wound which rendered immediate amputation necessary : and the leg of the hero having been appropriated as a relic by the owner of the house in which the operation was performed, lies buried beneath a green mound, in a garden opposite to the inn, at Waterloo. For his part in this great event, in which the eagle of France perished, the earl of Uxbridg'e was, on the 23d of June, 1815, created marquis of Anglesey, and he largely shaved in all the other honours with which the grateful country hailed her victorious soldiers. But the same day and scene in which his lordship's leg was interred, saw also the burying of the tomahawk of war; and the peaceful era to which these deeds were the harbinger, has furnished no fresh incidents to his his- tory. In politics, he has played a somewhat conspicuous G04 MILITARY HISTORY, part ; but it is only with his military capacity that we have to do in this work. Under Mr. Canning's administration, the marquis of Anglesey succeeded the duke of Welling- ton as master-general of the Ordnance, with a seat in the cabinet ; and he was lord-lieutenant of Ireland in 1828, and again in 1830. That high office he continued to fill till September 18.33, when the state of his health com- pelled him to resign. Since that period, his lordship has withdrawn from the tumult of public life; and now re- poses, in an advanced and honoured old age, upon his laurels as a soldier, and his unimpeached character as a man.* LIEUTENANT-GENERAL SIR THOMAS PICTON, K.G.C.B. Sir Thomas Picton was born in August, 1758, at Payston, in the county of Pembroke, the seat of his father, Thomas Picton, Esq., and as he was attached to a military life from his boyhood, he particularly directed his attention to military studies, after which he increased his martial acquirements under M. Lachee, a French gentleman who kept a military academy. In his fourteenth year he ob- tained an ensigncy in the 12th regiment of foot, under the command of his uncle, lieutenant-colonel William Picton ; and in about two years he left the military school, to join his regiment at Gibraltar. In March, 1777, he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant in the same regiment ; and in January of the next year he was ga- zetted captain in the 75th, or Prince of Wales's regi- ment of foot, and immediately returned to England. This was to him a subject of deep regret, for, a few months after his leaving Gibraltar, the celebrated siege of that fortress commenced, and the regiment he had quitted, commanded by his uncle, bore a distinguished part in the astonishing defence under general Elliot. Peace shortly afterwards followed, and upon the dis- banding of the 75th, captain Picton was placed on half- pay, and retired into Pembrokeshire, where he enjoyed * This and tlie precedin? memoir are extractt'd, with several alte- rations, from iMaswell's Military Almanack. PICTOy. 695 the affection and esteem of a numerous circle of relations and friends. He remained for the long period of twelve years unemployed and unpromoted ; and much of his retirement was passed in the enjoyments of the sports of the field, and in studying the classics, but more parti- cularly in perfecting himself in the art of war. War with revolutionary France broke out in 1793, bat a whole year of hostilities elapsed, without captain Picton being able to obtain active employment. At the end of that period he embarked for the West Indies at his own expense, without appointment, and with no better pros- pect of notice than a slight acquaintanceship with Sir John Vaughan, the commander-in-chief in that part of the globe. That general immediately attached captain Picton to the 17th foot, and made him his confidential aide-de-camp ; and soon after he promoted him to a ma- jority in the CSth regiment, and gave him the post of deputy-quarter-master-general, which entitled him to the brevet rank of lieutenant-colonel. On the death of his estimable friend at Martinique in August, 1795, colonel Picton resolved upon returning home, but his intention was changed on being introduced to Sir Ralph Aber- cromby. Under that illustrious commander he continued his voluntary service, and accompanied him in the attacks of St. Lucia and Grenada ; after which, he was appointed by Sir Ralph to the lieutenant-colonelcy of the 56th re- giment, and returned with him to Europe. After two months, he again sailed with Sir Ralph for the West Indies, and on the capture of Trinidad, in February, 1797, he was immediately made governor and commandant of the island. The confidence which Sir Ralph Abercromby placed in colonel Picton may be regarded as decisive of his mei-its : ' Did I know any ofiicer,' said that great and good man to the subject of our memoir, ' who, in my opinion, would discharge the duties annexed to this sta- tion better than you, to him would I have given it; there are no thanks due to me.' After having held this very difficult situation for six years, during which he was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, Picton resigned his office of governor in February 1803, and embarked for Europe. He arrived in his native country at a period of great popular alarm on the subject of invasion. The French army was at Boulogne, and a flotilla was in readiness for its convey- 608 MILITARY HISTORY, ance to tbe shores of England. General Pictou imme- diately made an offer of his services to government, and at the same time wrote a letter to Mr. Addington respecting- the organization and employment of the volunteer forces which were then being- raised in every part of the kingdom. But while his attention was thus turned to the safety of the state, he was roughly sum- moned to a concern for his own, by a series of malignant accusations that followed him from Trinidad. It was represented by his enemies, that his administration in the government of the island bad been unjust, tyrannical, and unconstitutional; and such was the plausibility of the charges, as well as the strength of popular resent- ment excited against him, that a most vexatious and oppressive trial followed, which did not terminate till June, 1808. But the result was most honourable to the character of the traduced hero. During these harass- ing legal proceedings, the privy council also bad been engaged in investigating a long list of charges brought against tbe ex-governor ; and, in tbe January of tbe preceding year, had pronounced that there was no foundation whatever for taking any further measures with reference to them : and as a testimony also of the high estimation in which government held tbe character of the accused, he had, on the 25tb of April, 1808, been promoted to tbe rank of major-general. Thus, after a trial of so many years' duration — in the course of which an examination before tbe privy council, upon unwar- rantable statements, calculated, if true, to crush his repu- tation both as a man and a soldier, was carried on — the honour and justice of this brave officer were established, to the perfect satisfaction of every upright mind. The expenses that had been incurred during the trial would of themselves have been sufficient to effect his ruin, had not bis venerable uncle, general William Picton, defrayed the whole costs of the suit. About tbe latter end of July, 1809, the unhappy ex- pedition against Flushing took place, in which major- general Picton was placed on the staff of the commander- in-chief, and, after tbe surrender of that town, be was appointed governor of it and tbe surrounding country. The havoc among the British troops, caused by tbe pesti- lential atmosphere of this fatal spot, rendered all other miseries of war comparatively trifling. With his soldiers PICTON. G07 hourly expiriug around him, governor Picton was also seized with the malignarit disease ; and so rapid was its projjress, that, in a short time, he was brought to the last extremity, when he was conveyed to his native shores. Scarcely had his health in some measure recovered, than he was summoned to assist in rescuing Portugal and Spain from the power of France, and ordered to the head- quarters of Wellington in the Peninsula. The deadly complaint imbibed at Walcheren still lurked in his frame, but his was not a spirit to be repressed by bodily infirmity ; and on his arrival in Spain he was imme- diately appointed to the command of the third division of the army, then quartered in the neighbourhood of Celerico. To narrate with historical accuracy the ex- ploits performed by this valiant division, under his com- mand, would soon carry us far beyond our limits ; in every battle that was fought his troops were distin- guished by their heroism and success, and in a short time they were known throughout the army by the ap- pellation of the ' fighting division ;' for, wherever danger was to be encountered, or glory won, there was the heroic Picton, at the head of his gallant solJiers. The following incident is from the work of Mr. Robin- son, and forms a striking characteristic of this eminent warrior : the circumstance occurred at the battle of Busaco. ' After general Picton had made every disposi- tion for the reception of the enemy,' says the biographer, ' he visited the particular spots occupied by his division, and, having been awake nearly the whole night, a short time before day broke he wrapped himself in his cloak, put on a coloured nightcap (his usual custom), and, after giving orders to some of his staff that he might be called upon the least alarm, stretched himself upon the gi'ound, to snatch a short repose. Possessing that command over the senses peculiar to strong minds, he was instantly asleep. Brief, however, were his slumbers ; the sound of musketry on the left suddenly aroused him ; when, throwing olf his cloak and putting on his hat, he sprung into the saddle, and was the next moment at the head of his troops, defending the pass of St. Antonio. From thence, when this point was secured, he galloped to the spot where the enemy had gained a partial success. Here his presence retrieved the lost ground; he rallied the retreating troops, and urged them again to the attack. 608 MILITARY HISTORY. Major Smith placed himself at their head, and fell lead- ing the attack. Pictoii, at the same time, placed himself at the head of a Portuguese battalion : the eyes of the men were fixed upon him as he cried, 'Forward!' and pointed towards the foe. When arrived within a few yards, with some encouraging words, and a loud ' hurra,' he gave the word to charge, and at the same moment taking off his hat, he waved it over his head, totally uncon- scious that it was still covered by his night-cap. His appearance at this moment was sufficiently grotesque, and caused much mierriment. This incident for an in- stant diverted the minds of the soldiers from the approach- ing conflict ; but it was only for an instant ; giving one loud cheer, they dashed boldly forward ; the echo was a groan, as, borne back by the impetuosity of this charge, the foe rolled over the craggy steep.' The siege of Ciudad Rodrigo had commenced early in January, and on the 19th it was resolved that Picton and his division should attack the largest of the breaches. At half-past six on the same evening every man was ready, and his style of military eloquence may be understood by his exclamation to the 8Sth regiment : * Rangers of Con- naught! it is not my intention to expend any powder on this occasion ; we'll do the business with cold iron !' The 3d division made five simultaneous attacks, and, hav- ing soon got possession of the breach, carried devastation into the town. General Picton then made every effort to put a stop to the sanguinary horrors that ensued. He flew in all directions, calling in a voice of thunder on the frantic soldiers, to remember they were ' men and English- men!' The still more tremendous siege of Badajos fol- lowed in the ensuing April, and there the deeds per- formed by the troops under his immediate command, though emulated and occasionally equalled by other bodies of British troops, were scarcely ever excelled. While leading his soldiers to the foot of the ramparts of the castle of Badajos, a ball struck him in the groin a little above his watch. He did not fall or bleed, but being assisted to the glacis, stood there for twenty minutes directing the attack. As he observed the numbers whom the overwhelming fire of the besieged strewed around him, he cried out, in a calm energetic tone, ' If we can- not win the castle, let us at least die upon the walls.' This was sufficient ; other ladders were brought, and the PICTON. 600 castle was entered. The wound which Picton had re- ceived prevented him from ascending with his brave soldiers, but he remained encouraging party after party as they rushed forward, until they gained that position, which secured to the British army the complete posses- sion of the town. During the ensuing march of the army towards Castile, general Picton was seized with the fever incidental to the country, and compelled to return to England; but though his health was considerably reinstated, he de- clared that active service could alone restore his spirits. On the 1st of February, 1S13, he was invested with the knighthood of the Bath, and immediately returned to the Peninsula, where he was hailed by his soldiers with the cry of ' Here comes our brave old father!' The battle of Vittoria took place in the following June, and in a letter to his brother he praises the valour of his division, while of himself he only says, ' I was very fortunate, having escaped with only one shot-hole in my great coat.' Having participated in all the rapid and glorious affairs which took place with the retreating army of the French under Soult, and highly distinguished himself at the pass amid the heights of Zubiri, Sir Thomas Picton left the camp in October, 1813, and repaired to England, where he received the thanks of the House of Commons. Early in December he rejoined the army with renovated health, in due season to lead on the 3d and 4th divisions at St. Jean de Luz (January, 1814), where he attacked and defeated the enemy. At Orthez he also covered himself with honour; and, indeed, from the moment of entering the territory of France, till the battle of Tou- louse, no language can express too high an idea of the conduct and valour of this admired commander. On the breaking up of the forces, his ' fighting division' declared that they would never forget their old general, and sub- scribed among themselves a sum amounting to nearly £1,600, for the purpose of presenting ' Old Picton' with a piece of plate. His friends, and the public at large, were indeed disappointed when they found that he was not elevated to the peerage when that dignity was con- ferred on five of his brother officers. The excuse was, that the custom in the service did not permit the grant of titular honours to any who had not held what are termed ' distinct commands.' Sir Thomas, however, 2 D 2 610 MILITARY HISTORY, having again been honoured with tlie thanks of parlia- ment, was contented, and retired to the quiet of a country life. On the extension of the order of the Bath at the beginning of 1815, he was made knight grand cross, and this was the last and utmost distinction he enjoyed. Sir Thomas Picton had entered upon a career of rural tranquillity and parliamentary usefulness, when the re- turn of Napoleon from Elba gave the signal for renewed hostilities ; and our veteran soldier received an applica- tion from the War Office, requiring him to join the army in the Netherlands under the duke of Wellington. A presentiment of his fate is said to have been deeply im- pressed upon his mind, without disturbing its serenity. ' When you hear of my death,' said he to an intimate friend, ' you will hear of a bloody day,' a prognostic which was but too faithfully verified. He left London on the 11th of June, and immediately on his joining the army he was appointed to the command of the reserve, consisting of above 10,001) men. On the tempestuous night of the 17th, which succeeded the desperate onset at Quatre Bras, Sir Thomas laid himself down for a few hours in a small cottage in the village of Waterloo, which long retained his name; and when the day began to dawn, he was in the field, making preparations, animating his men, and giving directions for the approaching conflict. As the battle commenced, his division was posted on the road to Wavre, behind a straggling hedge which extended from the farm of La Haye Sainte to Ter la Haye. The French columns marched upwards along the hedge to force the position, when the English hastened forward to meet them, and the muzzles of the opposing muskets almost touched each other. The general gave the word for the brigade of Sir James Kempt to advance : the sol- diers bounded over the hedge, and were received with a murderous volley. The struggle that ensued was terrific : the British, not stopping to reload, rushed upon the enemy, trusting solely to the thrust of the bayonet. The repeated fire of the French had, however, fearfully thinned the first line, and the dreadful work of the bayo- net was proceeding at the odds of one to six. Picton then ordered up general Pack's brigade ; and he must at that moment have felt what the duke of Wellington afterwards remarked in his despatches, that to repel this most serious attack of the foe, was of the highest conse- PICTON. 611 quence to the success of the battle. Consciuub at the same time that his own pi'esence would inspire the men with coutideuce, he rode along the gallant line, wa\ing his soldiers onward with his sword, when a bullet struck him on the forehead, and he fell back upon his horse. Captain Tyler, his aide-de-camp, instantly dismounting, ran to him, and, assisted by a soldier, lifted him from his horse, but he was quite dead. At that moment, the shock of war was at the wildest, for the conflicting hosts had met. Captain Tyler laid the body of his heroic friend beneath a tree, and rushed to the combat, after havuig informed Sir James Kempt of the lamentable occurrence. That general immediately assumed the command of the division, which the last example of their veteran leader had already inspired with enthusiasm. The masses of French assailants were one after another driven back : not, however, until the sanguinary struggle was over, and the Prussians, who had newly arrived, were in pursuit of the flying foe, did captain Tyler quit the field in search of the body of his esteemed general: it was easily found, but he was surprised to discover, on examining the corse, that there was another musket wound in the side, which had broken two of the ribs. On inquiry, he was informed by an old confidential attendant of the general, that this had occurred two days before, during the affair of Quatre Bras, and had been bound up and concealed by Picton's express command, lest the operation of the surgeon might keep him out of the field on the day of the approaching battle. The remains of this lamented warrior were landed at Deal on the 25th of June ; and on the 3d of July, they were deposited in the family vault at Bays- water. Parliament voted him a monument, under the dome of St. PauVs Cathedral ; and a stupendous pillar commemorative of his valiant exploits has been erected near Caermarthen, which can be seen at the distance of many miles. 6[2 MILITARY HISTORY. STAPLETON STAPLETON COTTON, VISCOUNT COMBERMERE. This nobleman is the second son of Sir Robert Salusbary Totton.. Bart., and was born in 1775. His education wa» chiefly obtained at Westminster School, and, while there, he commenced his military career, at the opening of the revolutionary war, as a second lieutenant in the royal Welsh fusileers. In 1791 we find him lieutenant in that reijiinent, from which rank he was, after two years, pro- moted to that of captain in the 6th dragoon guards. In this capacity he served with much credit in 1793 and 1794, under the duke of York, in the campaigns in Flan- ders ; and in the latter year, he was promoted to the rank of major of the 59th regiment, and afterwards to that of lieutenant-colonel of Gwyn's hussars, which subsequently became the 25th light dragoons. In 1796 colonel Cotton went to the Cape of Good Hope, in command of this regiment; whence he took it to India, and served during the Mysore war. He distinguished himself particularly at the battle of Malavelly, a few days previous to the arrival of the army before Seringapatam, and was thanked for his conduct on this occasion by general Harris. Upon the death of his elder brother, the lieu- tenant-colonel was exchanged into the 16th light dragoons, and returned to England in 1800. Two years afterwards, colonel Cotton commanded the 16th regiment of light dragoons, in Ireland, and was shortly afterwards wade a brigadier-general, and a major general in 1805, when he was appointed to the command of a brigade of light ca- valry in England. In October, 1S03, major-general Cotton was sent with the 14th and 16th light dragoons to Portugal : he com- manded the advanced guard when Soult was driven from Oporto into Galicia ; fought at the battle of Talavera ; and in the following year received the local rank of lieutenant-general, and the command of the cavalry of lord Wellington's army, from which time he was engaged in the most honourable services till the close of the war. He covered the retreat of AN'ellington's army from Al- meida to the lines near Torres Vedras, and received the COMBERMERE. 613 thanks of his commander for the masterly manner in which that duty was performed. This was but one of many important services which, as commander of the cavalry, he rendered to the great hero of that war. He also received thanks for his judicious and gallant conduct at Castiglion, where, with two brigades of cavalry, and Cole's and Alton's divisions of infantry, he kept in check, the whole of Marmont's forces, whilst lord Wellington was getting into position on the river Alcran. In April, IS 11, he defeated the whole of Soult's cavalry, near Llerena, with general Le Marchand's and general Anson's brigades, taking about 300 men and horses prisoners. At the memorable battle of Salamanca, Sir Stapleton Cotton fwho had now succeeded to the baronetage) particularly signalized himself. He afforded the most important sup- port to major-general Pakenham, who commanded the 3d division ; and it was to the cavalry, under the com- mand of Sir Stapleton, that he owed his success. Upon this occasion, nearly .3,000 of the French infantry were made prisoners by the cavalry. The darkness, however, while it favoured the enemy, was exceedingly disadvan- tageous to our own troops. Nor was it one of the least considerable misfortunes occasioned by it, that Sir Staple- ton Cotton, who had passed through all the peri's of the conflict in safety, was fired at by a Portuguese picket, and severely wounded. After the battle he was presented with the order of the Bath, and appointed colonel of the 20th light dragoons ; he received the repeated and unani- mous thanks of both houses of parliament, in conjunc- tion with lord Wellington, and other eminent officers; and, on his return to England for a short interval, he was again thanked, in his place in the House of Com- mons. He also received the grand cross of the Tower and Sword, the grand cross of Ferdinand, and, in 1814, the grand cross of the Guelphic Order. During the following campaign, in 1814, Sir Stapleton Cotton fully sustained in France the high character which his exploits in the Peninsula had gained him. At the battle of Orthez, the cavalry under his command mate- rially contributed to the success of that bi-illiant achieve- ment. On this occasion, he was directed to support Sir Lowry Cole's division, in his attack upon the heights on which Soult had posted his centre and left. These heights shortly became the chief point of conflict, and 614 MILITARY HISTORY. were thought by Soult to be impregnable ; but they were forced ; and Soult retired from them in excellent order, availing himself of the many favourable positions which the country afforded. He was driven, however, from each successively by the irresistible gallantry of the allied troops, until their incessant attacks changed his retreat into a rapid flight, in which his troops were thrown into the utmost confusion. In the course of this very rapid manoeuvre, the position of Sir Stapleton Cotton only allowed of his making one charge, but of this he availed himself in a most masterly manner, and brought in a number of prisoners. At Toulouse the cavalry under Sir Stapleton again distinguished themselves, and were suc- cessful al,-"o in taking many prisoners during the enemy's retreat. On the 17th of May, 1814, he was elevated to the peerage. In 1815, he was appointed to the command of the cavalry in the duke of Wellington's army in France ; and in 1817, he was made governor of Barbadoes, and commander of the forces iu the Leeward Islands, during- which period he spent three years in the West Indies. In 1822, lord Combermere was appointed commander- in-chief of the forces iu Ireland ; but after three years he was again removed from home service to India, which he made the theatre of his most brilliant services. His lordship held the high office of commander-in-chief, and second in council ; and the object of interposition on the part of the British government was to protect a native prince against a usurpei*. The late rajah of Bhurtpore had died in close alliance with the East India Company. Apprehensive, however, of the consequences which might ensue upon his death, he had during his life-time de- clared his son, Bulwuut Singh, his successor, and had obtained for him fi-om the Company the guarantee of his succession iu the usual form. From that time the young rajah was under the protection of the British govern- ment. On the death of the father, however, his nepliew, Doojjun Sal, gained a party iu the army, by which he obtained possession of Bhurtpore itself, and his cousin's throne. To expel this usurper, and reinstate the son of our ancient ally, was the design with which lord Com- bermere took the field shortly after his arrival in Bengal, with an army of 28,000 men, composed of King's and Company's troops. His first and chief object was the re- duction of Bhurtpore itself, a fortress of immense strength COMBERMERE. CI5 and resources, wbicb had already signalized itself bj' its surcessful resistance to the British troops when besieged in 1805 by lord Lake. Before this apparently impregnable fortress lord Com- bermere appeared on the 10th of December, 1825, with his army, and a field of more than 100 pieces of artillery. During the night, the enemy had cut the embankment of a lake to the northward, for the purpose of filling the ditch ; a precaution which had essentially contributed to the successful resistance oiFered to the besiegers in 1805. But this measuT-e had fortunately been conducted too tardily, and the British troops ari-ived in time to make themselves masters of the embankment, and repair the breach, before sufficieiit water had flowed into the fosse to render it impracticable. His lordship then occupied a few days in reconnoitring the -works, and determining the points of attack, until his battering train and appur- tenances arrived. On the "iSd of December every thing was in complete readiness ; the north-eastern angle of the works was fixed on as the point of attack; and the besiegers, under a heavy fire, took possession of a ruined village and of Buldeo Singh's garden, and completed tbeir first parallel at the distance of about 800 yards from the fort. On the following morning, two batteries, situ- ated at these points, and one more advanced between them, opened on the town with tremendous eflfect, and the rest of the month was spent in such close firing, as left scarcely a roof in the city uninjured. Such, how- ever, was the tenacity of the mud walls, that they resisted the effects of shot much better than masonry would have done, and recourse was had to mining on the 3d of January, 1S26. The first attempt failed, owing to the fear of discovery on the part of the engineers, who sprung the mine before it was sufficiently advanced to have any material effect on the wall. A second attempt was made, but the miners were driven away, having been counter- mined from the interior before they had entered many feet. On the 14th, another mine, under one of the bas- tions, was exploded too precipitately, and failed of its effect. These events occasioned some delay ; but lord Combermere directed two more mines to be driven into the same bastion, which were exploded on the 16th, and, with the aid of a day's battering, a practicable breach was made. The result of this splendid undertaking was 616 MILITARY HISTORY. MOW decided, and it only remained to exert the same gallantry in striking the last hlow. The particulars of the fall of Bhurtpore are thus given iu a very detailed and authentic account. ' Early in the morning of the 18th, the troops destined for the assault established themselves in the advanced trenches, unperceived hy the enemy. The left breach was to be mounted by the brigade of general Nicolls, headed by the 59th regiment ; that on the right, by general Reynell's brigade, headed by the 14th regiment ; the explosion of the mine under the north-east angle was to be the signal for the attack. At eight o'clock the mine was exploded with terrific effect ; the whole of the salient angle and part of the stone cavalier in the rear were lifted into the air, which for some time was in total darkness ; but, from the mine having exploded in an unexpected direction, or from the tioops having been stationed, in consequence of miscalculation, too near it, the ejected stones and masses of earth killed in their fall several men of his majesty's 14th regiment of foot, at the head of the column of attack, and severely wounded three officers; they fell so thickly about lord Comber- mere himself, that brigadier-general M'Combe, who was standing next him, was knocked down, and two sepoys, who were within a few feet of him, were killed on the spot. The troops immediately mounted to the assault •with the greatest order and steadiness, and, notwith- standing a determined opposition, carried the breaches. The left breach was the more difficult of the two ; and, at one moment, where the ascent was steepest, the .59th regiment, which led the attack, halted for an instant; but, at a cheer from their comrades behind, they pressed on, and quickly surmounted it ; the grenadiers, moving up it slowly and resolutely, without yet drawing a trigger in return for the vollejs of round shot, grape, and mus- ketry, which were poured upon them. * Some of the foremost of the enemy defended the right breach for a few minutes with gi-eat resolution, but, as the explosion of the mine had blown up 300 of their com- panions, they were soon compelled to give way, and were pursued along the rampai-ts. Whenever they came to a gun which they could move, they turned it upon their pursuers, but they were immediately killed by the grena- diers, and the gun upset. In two hours the whole ram- COMRERMERE. 617 part surrounding the town, although bravely defended at every gateway and bastion, along with the command of the gates of the citadel, were in possession of the be- siegers, and early iu the afternoon the citadel itself sur- rendered. Brigadier-general Sleigh, commanding the cavalry-, having been entrusted with preventing the escape of the enemy's troops after the assault, made such a disposition of his forces, that he succeeded in securing Dooijun Sal, who, with his wife, two sons, and ICO chosen horse, attempted to force a passage through the Sth light cavalry. The garrison consisted of about 36,000 men, of all arms ; of whom nearly 10,000 fell during the siege and stonning : the loss of the besiegers did not exceed 1,200 men. Thus, as by tlie surrender of the town all the stores, arms, and ammunition, fell into the possession of the victor, the whole military power of the Bhurtpore state might be considered as annihilated. The fortifica- tions were demolished, by orders from the supreme go- vernment ; the principal bastions, and parts of several curtains, were blown up on the 6th of February ; and it was left to the rains to complete the ruin. The Futty Bourg, or * Bastion of Victory,' built, as the Bhurtpo- reans vaunted, with the bones and blood of the British soldiers who fell in the assault under lord Lake, was now laid low ; and among its destroyers were some of those very men who, twenty years before, ' had been permitted,' in the boasting language of the natives, to ' fly from its eternal walls.' All the other fortresses within the rajah's dominions immediately surrendered — the in- habitants returned to their abodes — and the prince was reinstated in his authority.' By this gallant achievement, India was saved, and, in reward of such important services, his lordship was raised to the rank of viscount, with tiie title of Viscount Com- bermere of Bhurtpore in India, and of Combermere Abbey, in the county of Chester; and was afterwards made colonel of the 1st life guards. His lordship married in 1801 lady Anne Marian Pelham Clinton, eldest daughter of Thomas, third duke of Newcastle, by whom he has no surviving issue. Her ladyship died in 1807. In lSI4lord Combermere married Caroline, second daughter of William Fulke Greville, cousin of the earl of Warwick, by whom he has issue one son and two daughters. 618 MILITARY HISTORY. GENERAL THOMAS GRAHAM, r-ORD LYNEDOCH, G. C. B. This gallant veteran, who was bora in 1750, is the third son of Thomas Graham, of Bakowan, in Perth- shire, the representative of an ancient and illustrious family, and lady Christian Hope, fourth daughter of Charles, first earl of Hopetoun. By the death of both his elder brothers, he became their heir ; and in 1774, at which time he had succeeded his father, he married the hon. Mary Cathcart, one of the three daughters of the ninth lord Cathcart, in whose society he for a time en- perienced the highest happiness. In 1792, however, this happy union was terminated by her death, and Mr. Graham was left to mourn a loss which to him nothing in this world could repair. His grief was so deep as greatly to injure his health; and he was directed to travel, with the view of alleviating his distress, and re- storing the tone of his constitution, by change of scene, and variety of objects. But his course was sad and soli- tary, and his heart refused to be comforted. He passed like an unpurposed wanderer through France, then en- gaged in all the turmoil of revolution. Thence he pro- ceeded to the Mediterranean ; and in military society, at Gibraltar, he first found the means of partially disengag- ing himself from the spell under which he laboured; or rather, perhaps, we might more truly say, he rushed into the dangers of war, to seek that death in which alone his broken spirit could hope to find rest. Lord Hood, who was about to sail for the south of France, could not but be proud to receive Mr. Graham as a volunteer ; and accordingly, the latter, at the com- mencement of the revolutionary war, 1793, lauded with the British troops at Toulon, and served as extra aide de- camp to the commanding general, lord Mulgrave, whose particular thanks he obtained for his gallant and able services : he was foremost in attack, and on one occa- sion, at the head of a column, when a private fell, he supplied his place in the front rank. On returning to this country, he raised the 1st battalion of the 90th regi- ment, of which his commission as lieutenant-colonel- LYNEDOCH. G19 commandant was dated the 10th of February', 1704 This corps passed the summer of 17'J5 at Isle Dieu, and soon afterwards was ordered to Gibraltar ; and on the 22d of July, 1795, he obtained the rank of colonel in the army. As Gibraltar only required garrison duty, colonel Graham obtained permission to join the Austrian army, and he continued on that service during the memorable summer of 1796. He was afterwards attached to the Austrian army of Italy, and was shut up in Mantua with general Wurmser during its investment. But as Mantua con- tinued long in a state of siege, and a mere defensive warfare was not consonant with colonel Graham's views, he resolved to depart from the garrison. On the night of the 24th of December, 1706, he accordingly quitted the place, although opposed by a deluge of rain, and with only one attendant. Mantua being situated on a lake formed by the Mincio, while regular channels of com- munication with the main land were in possession of the besiegers, it was only by embarking in a boat that he could effect his escape ; and such was the impenetrable darkness of the night, that the vessel stranded several times on the islands of the lake or river, before the land- ing-place could be discerned. Having obtained a landing on a convenient spot, he travelled during the night on foot, wading through mire and swamps, and in con- stant danger of losing his way, with the additional ap- prehension of being shot by some of the numerous pickets, or stopped as a British officer, in the uniform of his regi- ment. At daybreak he concealed himself, and at night resumed his journey. Having reached a river, he hired a boat ; and here his life would in all probability have been sacrificed, had not the sentinels been driven from their posts by a heavy fall of rain, by which his passage was in comparative safety. At length he joined the army of the archduke Charles. On the pacification of continental affairs, colonel Graham returned to his native country in 1797, and in the autumn of the same year he went out to his regiment at Gibraltar ; whence he proceeded to the attack of Mi- norca with Sir Charles Stuart, who, on the reduction of that island, bestowed much commendation on the spirit and exertions of his brave and enterprising associate. After the reduction of Minorca, colonel Graham repaired to Sicilj', where his exertions were so effective, that he received 620 MILITARY HISTORY. repeateJ acknowledgments, and tokens of gratitude from the king and queen of Naples. Not long after, be, with tbe local rank of brigadier, besieged the island of Malta, having under his command the 30th and 89th regiments, and some corps embodied under his immediate direction. This island, the key of Egypt and the Levant, having been basely surrendered to the French in 1793, the British government resolved to wrest it from the enemy, to whom it was a maritime station of great importance, more par- ticularly since Bonaparte's views upon India, through Egypt, had become apparent. Aware of the prodiiiious strength of its works, the general bad recourse to a blockade, and the British force accordingly appeared, before Malta in the month of September, 1798. The French garrison held out till September, 1800, when, after a resistance of two years' duration, they surren- dered. Major-general Pigot having arrived with a rein- forcement a short time previous to the capitulation, the honour of transmitting an account of the success devolved upon him ; but in his despatch he bore ample testimony to the high merit and efficient operations of brigadier- general Graham. On the completion of this service Graham returned to England, and arrived just in time to learn that his own regiment, the 90th, had covered itself with glory on the plains of Egypt, while it formed the advanced guard of the iirst line on the 2Ist of March, 1801. Being eager to rejoin his comrades in arms, he again left Enuland, and landed in Egypt; but that country being completely conquered, he soon quitted it, and tra- velled to Europe with Mr. Hutchinson, brother of the commander-in-chief, lord Hutchinson, through Turkey. He passed some time at Constantinople ; and, peace hav- ing in the mean time been concluded, he also made a short residence at Paris. From 1S03 to 1805, he served with his regiment in Ireland ; when it was ordered out to the West Indies, and he remained without active employment or promotion till the spring of 1808. Sir John Moore being appointed to lead an armament to the shores of Sweden, colonel Graham obtained per- mission to accompany him as aide-de-camp. The misun- derstanding between the kiiig of Sweden and Sir John Moore having put an end to his mission, that officer was immediately ordered to Spain, whither he was accom- panied by colonel Graham, who served during the whole LYNEDOCH. 621 of the campaign of 1808. On his return to Eng-land, he was promoted to the rank of major-general, and was shortly after appointed to command a division in the expedition to Walcheren. He was actively employed at the siesre of Flushing, hut, being attacked by the fever, he was obliged to return home. The possession of Cadiz being about this time disputed by the Spanish patriots and the French, Graham, with the brevet rank of lieutenant-genei'al, was sent to take the command of the British troops in that fortress ; and, in Feb. 1811, he embarked in an expedition, for a combined attack on the rear of the French army which was blockad- ing Cadiz, a movement that led, in the March following, to the memorable battle of Barrosa. The troops marched from Isla on the night of the 17th of February, and em- barked the next morning at daybreak in Cadiz Bay. In the evening of the 21st, the expedition sailed, and arrived off Tarifa on the following day; but as the weather proved unfavourable for a landing, it proceeded to Alge- siras, where the force disembarked on the morning of the 2.3d. On the following day they marched to Tarifa, without any other road than merely a mule path, which was found scarcely practicable for the advance of the cavalry : all the artillery, therefore, was sent onwards by water. On the2rth, the Spanish troops under general Lapena arrived, from Cadiz, at Tarifa, upon which the allied army continued its route to Barrosa, which was reached on the 5th of March, when the vanguard pro- ceeded to attack the enemy's position opposite the point of Santa Petri, and the reserve baited on the east side of the heights of Barrosa. The attack of the vanguard on the enemy's lines succeeded ; it was supported by half the prince of Augloua's division, the other half remaining on the heights; and, previous to the movement of the British to that point, general Lapena offered Graham his option, whether the latter should move for that purpose with his corps, or continue posted on the heights: but the lieu- tenant-general declining to make an election, the former decided that the reserve should march, leaving two batta- lions to join the remainder of the Spanish forces, to preserve the position on the heights. In addition, how- ever, to two battalions of Walloon and Ciudad-Real guards, Graham left colonel Brown's battalion, composed of flank companies, which was posted at the Torre Bar- 622 MILITARY HISTORY. rosa. The British general, therefore, had every reason to suppose tliat the Spanish commander would remain on that position during: the day. Graham's division having halted on the eastern slope of the Barrosa height for about two hours, was marched about twelve o'clock, through a wood towards the Torre Bermeja. On the march, he received certain intelligence that the enemy had appeared in force on the plain, and was advancing towards the height of Barrosa. Consider- ing this position as the key to that of Santa Petri, he immediately counter-marched to support the troops left for its defence ; and the alacrity with which this ma- noeuvre was executed, was a favourable omen. Before the British troops could get entirely disentangled from the wood, the Spanish troops on the Barrosa hill were seen retiring from it, while the enemy's left wing was rapidly ascending ; at the same time their right wing stood on the plain, on the edge of the wood, within can- non-shot. A retreat in the face of such opposition must have involved the whole of the allied army in the utmost danger, and therefore an immediate attack was resolved upon. Major Duncan opened a powerful battery of ten guns on the centre. Brigadier-general Dilkes, with his brigade; lieutenant-colonel Benin's (of the 28th) flank battalion ; lieutenant-colonel Norcott's two companies of the rifle corps ; and major Acheson, with a part of the 67th foot (separated from the regiment in the wood) — formed on the right. Colonel Wheatley's brigade, with three companies of Coldstream guards, under lieutenant- colonel Jackson, and lieutenant-colonel Bernard's flank battalion, formed on the left. The right wing proceeded to the attack of general Rufin's division on the hill, while lieutenant-colonel Bernard and lieutenant-colonel Bassche's detachment of the 20th Portuguese, were warmly engaged on the left with the enemy's tirailleurs. General Laval's division, notwithstanding the havoc made by major Duncan's battery, continued to advance in very imposing masses, opening their fire of musketry, and were only checked by that of the left wing: the latter now advanced, firing, and a spirited charge made by the three companies of the guards, and the 87th regiment, supported by the remainder of the wing, decided the defeat of General Laval's division. At the time the troops were halted on the east side of LYNEDOCH. 623 the heights of Barrosa, lieutenant-genei-al Graham's orders were conveyed for brigadier-e-eneral Dilk.es' bri- gade, as well as for that of colouel Wheatley, to proceed to Santa Petri. The column accordingly began its march on the hill, and, descending the other side, entered a fir- wood, so thick as to be almost impervious to the guns and mounted officers. The enemy were now reported to have made their appearance in the plain which the bri- gade had just quitted, and the lieutenant-general's orders were shortly after received for the column to retrace its steps. The line now advanced obliquely to the right, towards a corps of the enemy which occupied the heights the British had so lately passed, and a heavy fire of artil- lery and musketry was kept up on both sides : but the line continuing their advance with distinguished gal- lantry, that part of the enemy's force immediately op- posed to them was obliged to withdraw towards another corps upon its right. The British still dashed on, bring- ing forward the right shoulder, and thereby threatening the enemy's left, who at length formed the flank en masse, continuing their retreat down the hill, and ascending an- other rising ground, halting occasionally, and keeping up a severe and destructive fire. At one time they were observed to push forward two or three divisions from the tnasse, as was conceived, to charge the British line, but the well-directed fire of our troops, still advancing, obliged them to desist, and the British were too exhausted with their difficult march to return the compliment. Soon after our troops had begun to descend the hill, the enemy's cavalry were seen posted on the left, and it was expected that they would charge a weak part of the line, having made a move ment seemingly for that purpose. Major-general Dilkes and his aide-de-camp were at this period dismounted, both their horses having been shot under them. The British cavalry now arrived on the field of action, and imme- diately charged the enemy, who, after a slight hesitation, advanced to the encounter, both parties meeting at a hand-gallop : thus mixed, dispersed, and re formed, the enemy retired, and our hussars pursued the stragglers. After the defeat of the cavalry, the French continued to retreat obliquely to their right wing, until, some artil levy being brought up, their complete defeat was decided. 624 MILITARY HISTORY. and the British line received their commander's orders to halt. In his despatch, lieutenant-general Graham bore ample testimony to the gallantry and distinguished conduct of the officers and corps engaged : the British guards had their full share of commendation : they wei-e under an officer who had served with him in former campaigns ; who had been their companion at Lincelles, and other scenes of their glory. The thanks of parliament were voted to the general and his brave force, on this victory ; and in his answer, after stating that it would ill become him to disguise his feelings on the occasion, for he well knew the inestimable value of such thanks to a soldier, he adds the following elegant remark: ' 1 have formerly often heard you, sir, eloquently and impressively deliver tbe thanks of the house to officers present, and never without an anxious wish that I might one day receive this most enviable mark of my country's regard : this honest ambition is now fully gratified, and 1 am more than ever bound to try to merit the good opinion of the house.' In the summer of 1811, lieutenant-general Graham was relieved from his duty at Cadiz, and joined the army under lord Wellington, of which he was appointed second in command. He was present at the siege of Ciudad Ilodrigo ; but having a complaint in his eyes, occasioned by the use of a prospect-glass under an almost vertical sun, together with much writing by candle-light, he was obliged to revisit England. Early in 1813, however, he again repaired to the Peninsula ; but was not engaged in any action of magnitude, till that of Vittoria, when he commanded the left wing of the British army. He was also present in the subsequent military operations, and commanded the army employed in the siege of ths town and citadel of St. Sebastian : the former surren- dered to him on the 9th of September by capitulation, and the citadel was taken by storm on the 31st of the same month. The left of the British army being directed to pass the Bidassoa river, the natural boundary of France and Spain, Graham was entiusted with that service ; and, on the 7th of October, after an obstinate resistance from the enemy, he succeeded in establishing the British ai my on French ground. In consequence of ill-health. BERESFORD. 625 he now resigned his command to lieutenant general Sir John Hope, and returned to England. In 1814, he was appointed commander of the forces in Holland, with the temporary' rank of general ; and on the 3d of May, in the same year, after again receiving the thanks of parlia- ment, for his conduct in the Peninsula, he was raised to the peerage, by the title of Barou Lynedoch, of Bal- gowan, in the county of Perth, having previously re- ceived the first class of the military order of the Bath. In 1821, he was raised to the rank of general, and, in addition to other marks of royal consideration, the go- vernorship of Dumbarton Castle was conferred upon him. Of late years, lord Lynedoch has passed much of his time on the Continent, chiefly in Italy, where the climate is more congenial to his health, at his advanced peiiod of life. We have only to add, that there never was an officer in the British service more universally respected and beloved. ^yILLIAM CARR, VISCOUNT BERESFORD, G.C. B., C. H., &C. &C. This brave soldier owes his high rank and illustrious titles to his good sword alone, being an illegitimate son of George de la Poer, first marquis of Waterford. He entered the military service as an ensign in the 6th foot in 17S5, and in the following year he embarked for Nova Scotia, where he remained during four years, at the end of which, having obtained a lieutenant's commission, he returned to England. It was during the period of his stay in America that an unfortunate wound was inflicted upon the future hero of Albuera. Being out shooting in the woods with a brother ensign (now general Sir Thomas Molyneux), the former, on the springing of a covey of partridges cried out, impatiently, ' Why don't you fire ?' The other fired accordingly, but some of the shot entered Beresford's eye, and deprived it of sight forever. In January, 1791, lieutenant Beresford was appointed captain in an independent company, and in the same year a 'Z E 626 MILITARY HISTORY. captain in the 69th foot. In the beginning of 1793 he era- barked at Cork on foreign service, and he and his company served on board the Britannia as marines. He was also engaged in the taking of Toulon ; after which he went to Corsica, and was present at the sieges of St. Fiorenza, Bastia, and Calvi. Promotion continued to crown his active services, so that in March, 1794, he was appointed major in the 69th regiment, and in August following lieutenant-colonel in the late 124th. He set sail after- wards with Sir Ralph Abercromby for the West Indies; but in consequence of his regiment being sent back, he escaped from that lazar-house of our European soldiery, to share in nobler fields of action. His next sphere of public service was the East Indies, to which he sailed in 1799 ; but shortly after landing there, he proceeded by the Red Sea to Egypt, in command of a brigade belonging to Sir David Baird's army. After this, he was appointed commandant at Alexandria, in which office he remained until Egypt was evacuated. On his return to England, in 1800, he received the brevet of colonel, and distin guished himself by his activity in Ireland. The county of Wicklow, which was greatly infested with rebels, was on this occasion cleared and pacificated through the exertions of colonel Beresford. In 1S05, the subject of our memoir was ordered to pro- ceed with the army under Sir David Baird, by which the conquest of the Cape of Good Hope was accompli-^heil, and in this valuable colonial acquisition colonel Beres- ford had an important share. From the Cape, he was sent at the head of a small detachment, and with the rank of brigadier-general, to capture Buenos Ayres, an exploit in which he fully succeeded. But this success was soon followed by a most unfortunate reverse. The enemy rallied in overwhelming numbers; and, although Beresford obtained several advantages over them in tlie field, he was fiually besieged in the town by an army of 10,000 or 12,000 men, while his own force did not consist of more than 1200. After three days of stout resistance he was obliged to yield to numbers, and he surrendered with his whole force as prisoners of war, but with the condition that they were to be embarked without delay for England, or the Cape of Good Hope, and be exchanged for the Spanish prisoners that had been made in the capture of Buenos Ayres. But this stipulation was so BERESFORD. 627 shamefully violated, that Beresford resolved to mate his escape from the enemy, vrhich at length he effected throug-h the aid of the inhabitants of the colony ; so that, in 1807, he returned in safety to England. On his arrival, he did not remain long unoccupied, for in the same year he was sent to command the land forces against the island of Madeira. 'I'he island was taten, and Beres- ford, who had been previou^^ly invested with the tem- porary rank of major-general, was appointed governor, and commander-in-chief in that quarter. Greater emer- gencies soon called him from this comparatively obscure situation ; for, in August, 1808, he was ordered to join the British army in Portugal, in which country he arrived a few days after the battle of Vimiero. He was then attached to the army of Sir John Moore, with which he marched into Spain, and was a sharer in all the exertions and sufferings of the melancholy retreat which followed. He ably exerted himself also at the battle of Corunna, and covered the embarkation of the troops, with which he returned to England. After so much varied experience in military affairs, a new and congenial field of exertion was opened to general Beresford. This was the training and disciplining of the Portuguese troops — and when we remember the very hopeless materials out of which Beresford was expected to create an efficient army, we can scarcely sufficiently admire the self-devotedness that undertook such a task, by which all his military reputation was perilled, or the ability with which he converted an effeminate and spirit- less people into bold and hardy warriors. The Portu- guese government was so highly satisfied with his exer- tions in this department, that it raised him to the rank of marshal, and commander-in-chief of the army of Portugal. The services which he rendered in this capacity to the common cause were highly efficient, and on almost every occasion his Portuguese troops showed themselves worthy to fight by the side of British soldiers. Of all the martial achievements of Beresford, the vic- tory of Albuera was the most distinguished, in which he held the sole command. Soult, who had resolved to re- lieve Badajoz, which was invested by general William Stewart, departed from Seville on the 10th of May, 1811, and on the loth concentrated his army at Santa Marta. Beresford, having held a conference with the Spanish CiJ8 MILITARY HISTORY, generals, resolved to give battle to Soiilt at Albuera. On the morning of the 15th, the British were accordingly posted on the left of Albuera, while the ritiht was to be occupied by the Spanish troops under general Blake ; but that commander, with the proverbial slowness of bis countrymen, did not fully occupy the position until the following morning. Appai-ently, the army of general Beresford was fully a match for the enemy, for it con- sisted of 30,000 infantry and 2,000 cavalry ; while the French numbered only 19,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry. But in the allied army only 7,000 were British troops who could be firmly relied on; the rest were chiefly Spaniards and Portuguese, whose discipline was still imperfect, and whose spirits were clouded with the remembrance of many a defeat ; and the presence of the obstinate Blake ■would, of itself, have been ominous of evil even to a more promising cause. As for the French, they were men of one nation, trained in the most perfect discipline, inured to the character of the wars of the Peninsula, and animated by the recollection of their past victories in that quarter. They were also led by a commander who was inferior to none of the distinguished leaders of France, with the exception of their illustrious head. About nine o'clock in the morning of the IGth the battle commenced, by the enemy making an attack in one heavy column, preceded by a sharp cannonade to gain the bridge, and force the passage of the Albuera; but this movement was ably answered by the British guns which were posted on the rising ground. After some manoeuvres, Beresford perceived that the principal attack of the enemy was to be upon the right, where the Spanish army was posted, and sent orders for Blake to change his front accordingly; but the latter, declaring that no such attack was meditated, refused to move until the appearance of hostile masses bearing down upon him convinced him of his error. Hethen commenced the necessaryevolution,but with such pompous slowness, that Beresford was obliged to snatch from him the command for a moment, by superintending the movements in person. Even this measure, however, was almost too late, for the enemy were already among them, and the Spanish ranks were wavering before the shock. All was now confusion and peril, and Sonlt, thinking that the victory was already his own, threw forward all his columns and called up his BERESFORD. C29 reserves, with which he occupied the hill that com- manded the Yalverde Road, hy which the retreat of the allied amiy would have been completely cut off. General Stewart seeing this, immediately rushed to the foot of the height with Colborne's brigade; but this rash onset was met by so tremendous a fire, that his columns were thrown into confusion; four regiments of hussars and lancers then charged in their rear, and cut them down in whole companies ; and Beresford himself, while en- deavouring to restore order amidst such a tumult, was obliged to exert himself like a common swordsman. On one occasion a lancer charged him ; but the marshal exerting his remarkable strength, turned the weapon aside, and threw the man out of the saddle. The Spa- niards, in the mean time, increased the confusion, by firing without intermission, and as the British were before them, and suffered greatly from this unadvised zeal, Beresford ordered these precious allies to advance, but in vain. He then seized one of their ensigns in his powerful grasp, and bore him forward, colours and all, in the hope that the Spaniards would follow; but no sooner was the fellow released, than he ran back to his company. Happily, at this trying moment the state of the weather, which prevented Soult from ascertaining the full amount of bis success, gave the allied troops an opportunity of recovering from their confusion, and Stewart was enabled to lead the British troops to the attack of the hill in better order than before. Thus the battle was renewed upon even terms; and when the British soldiers were enabled to encounter upon unen- cumbered ground, their attack was so terrible, that Soult soon perceived that the victory might yet be torn from his grasp. Their close destructive fire made huge gaps in the massive columns of the enemy ; they closed with the bayonet, and nothing could withstand their impetuous onset. The French reeled, yielded, and at last fled, but were closely pursued with horrible caroage ; and the British at length gained the summit of the hill, down the steep of which the enemy were precipitated like a falling avalanche. But fearful was the price which the victors had paid for so signal an advantage ; for out of nearly 7,000 British warriors, not more than 1,500 stood un- wounded upon the hill-top. Nothing, however, could be more decisive than the victory they had gained ; and the 2 E 2 630 MILITARY HISTORY. French, who had lost S,000 men in this sanguinary action, found themselves in no condition to attempt a second conflict, and retreated to Solano. During the rest of the war marshal Beresford ably seconded the operations of the duke of Wellington ; and when Bourdeaux espoused the cause of the Bourbons, he was sent thither, at the head of a detachment, to take possession of the town. It is also pleasing to notice the gratitude with which his valuable services were recognised by our government. In 1812, he was appointed to the rank of lieutenant- general ; in 1814 he was raised to the peerage, by the title of Baron Beresford of Albuera, with an annuity of S^'2,000 per annum to himself and his two immediate successors in the barony ; in 1823 he was made a viscount, and in 1825, a general in the British army. The fields in which he successively distinguished himself were Co- runna, Busaco, Albuera, Badajoz, Salamanca, Vittoria, Pyrenees, Nivelle, Nive, Orthez, and Toulouse ; and for these he has the privilege of wearing a cross with seven clasps. His lordship is colonel of the 16th regiment, governor of Jersey, and master-general of the ordnance. He is also duke of Elvas, marquis of Campo Major, and count Francoso in Portugal, and a field-marshal in that kingdom. INDEX. Abercromhy, Sir Ralph, life of, 446. Attoukir, landing of the British troops at, 451. Battle of, 4o3. Abraham, heiibts of, battle or the, 417. Acre, siege of, by Richard I., 121. Massacre of the garrison, 122. Agitators in the 'Parliamentary army, 350. Agricola, citilizes theBritous, 19. 'iavades Caledonia, 20. Alban's, St., victory of the duke of York at, 275. The earl of War- wick defeated at, 280. Albuera, battle of, 627. Alfred the Great, life of, 35. Ally Ghur, success of general Lake at, 4S8. American colonies, revolt of, 420. Conimencement of hostilities, 421. Elect Washington commander-in-chief, ib. Receive aid from France, 423. Theirsucc. sses, ii. Their independence ratified bv Britain, iA. Americans defeated by Cornwallis atRigely's iMills, 461. They oblige Cornwallis to surrender, 463. Anertim Moor, battle of, 310. Anglesey, marq^ is of, lire of, 601. Anglesey, conquest of, by Suetonius, 15. Anne, accession and death of, 369. Arc, Joan of, her early history, 258. Applies to be sent to the dau- phin, 259. Relieves Orleans, 261. Her subsequent successes, 264. Attends the coronation of the dauphin, 265. Taken prisoner at the siege of Compelgne, 267. Tried and executed, 268. Archery, excellence of the English in, 87. Arcol, defence of, by Clive, 430. Argaum, battle of, 521. Argyll, duke of, the life of, 404. Asiaye, ba.'tle of, 520. Assize of arras, by Henry II., 112. Athelney, island of, shelters Alfred, 39. Athelstane, his victories, 45. Austria, archduke of, his infamous conduct towards Richar J I. 122, 126, 129. Azincourt, battle of, 246. Badajoz stormed by lord Wellington, 555. Baird, Sir David, life of, 476. Baliol made kin-f of Scotland by Edward I., 162. Renouaces alle- giance to Edward, ib. , Ed\»-ard, invade* Scotland, 196. Gains the battle of Duplin, 197. Is driven out of Scotland, ib. Reinstated on the Scottish throne, 198. Is again expelled, 199. Is a third time unsuccessful, U>. Barcelona, siege oi, by ihe earl .->f Peterborough, 395. Captured, 397. Relieved by the eari of Peterborough, 400. Barnel, battle of, 288. iaron* of England, thtir opposition to royal despotism, 141, 143, 146, 148, 187- Barrosa, battle o(, 621. Bange, battle of, 251. Beauvais, bishop of, liij warlike characttr, 132. Btres/ord, viscount, life of, 625. 632 INDEX. Berwick taken by Edwanl I., 162. De^ie^'ed by Edward II., 185. Siirrendired to Edward HI , 198. Bhurlpore, storming of, 615. Bidasoa, battle of, 570. Blenheim, battle oi, 377. Blondel the minstrel discovers the prison of Ricliard I., 130. liloreheath, victory of the Yorkists at, 277. Buadicea, life of, 17. Bonaparte, successes of, 424. Boxicorth, battle of, 297. Bourdeaux proclaims Loui* XVIII., 577. Boyne, battle of the, 368. Brenneville, battle of, 96. Britain, ancient, account of, 1. Britons, ancient, their mude of warfare, 9. Bruce, Robert, h:s quarrel with Comyn, 170. Is defeated at Methven, 171. His subsequent successes, 172. Gains the battle of Bannoik- biirn, 176. Secures the independence ol Scotland, 194. Dies, 195. Bruce, Edward, invades Ireland, 182. Is killed at the battle oi Dun- dalk, 183. Brunanburgh, battle of, 45. Bucltingham, duke of, obtains the crown for Richard III., 294. Rebels again*! Richard, 296. Is tetrayed and executed, ib. Burpoyne, g-eneral, his unsuccessful campaign, 422. Buiaco, battle of, 545. Cade, John, insurrection of, 274. Caeji, frightful funeral of William the Conqueror at, 78. Ctesar, invasion of Britain by, 3. Second campaign of. in Britain, 6. Calais, siege of, by Edward 111., 209. Taken by ihedukeof Guise, 313. Caledonians, their wars with the Romans, 21 . Caligula, his mad attempt to conquer Britain, 11. Cannon, iirst use of, 303. Canute, his reign in England, 49. Caractacus, life of, II. Cassivellanus, life of, 7. Chandernagore, in the East Indies, capture of, 434. Charles I., accession of, 329. Opposed by the Scots, ib. Quarrels with the Parliament, 332. Commencement of the civil war, 333. Takes refuge with the Sottish army, 340. Is delivered up to the English, ib. His trial and execution, ib. Charles II. called to the throne by Monk, 364. His administration, character, and death, 365. Charles, of Austria, his claims to the Spanish Throne supported by the earl of Peterborough, 395. Chivalrous education, nature of, 214. Cintra, the convention of, 529. Ciudad Rodrigo attacktd by Wellington, 553. Taken by storm, 555. Claudius, invasion of Britain by, 12. Clive, lord, life of, 427. Coniliermere, viscount, life of, 612. Cornwallis, marquis, life of, 457. Corsica, the French expelled from, by the British, 490. Sir Gilbert Elliott appointed viceroy, 501. His impracticable government, J6. • Corunna, battle of, 509. Crecy, battle of, 205. Cromwell, Oliver, life of, 342. Cuesta, general, his impracticable obstinacy, 524, 534, 539, 540. Cyprus conquered by Richard Coeur-de-Lion, 120. Danelagh, settlement of, 40. Vanes, first invasion of England by, 33. Description of, 34. Massacre of, by the English, 47. Valid, king of Scotland, defeated, and taken prisoner at Neville's Cross, 208, INDEX. CM Dtlhi, victory of Lake at, 4f9. Doondiah Waugh, insurrection of, in India, 516. Defeated and slain by colonel Welleslev, 517. Douglas, Sir James, surprises the castle of Ro\bur?h, 175. Defeats the English at Lenthaushlee, 183. His sallant exploits, ib. Shares in the victory of Alitton, 186. Invades England with Randniph, 19I. Attack* tl.e English camp by a night surprise, 193. Embarks with the heart of Bru( e for the Holy Land, 195. Slain by the xMoors, 196. Douglas and Rand'^il|ih, nofile emulation between, 178- Douglas, lord Archibald, defeated at Halidon Hi 1, 198. , the knight of Liddisdale, relie-.es the castle of Dunbar, 200. Takes the castle of Edinburgh, 16. , James, eari of, overthrows Hotspur in single combat, 231. Is slain at the battle of Otterbounie, 232. , the earl of, defeated at Ho:iiildon,238. Leasue- with Percv to dethrone Henry IV., 240. Gallant behaviour at rhe battle o'f Shrewsbury, ib. Gains the battle of Bauge, 251. I» defeated and slain at V'erneuil, 257. , earl of Angus, defeats the English at Ancrum Moor, 310. Douro, passage of the, 531. Druidism, su'ppression of, by the conquest of Anglesey, 16. Druids, iccount of, 1. Duel between Clive and an officer, 428. Dumblain, defeat of the Pretender's forces at, 406. Dunbar gal.antly defended bv the counte-s, 199. Dundee, viscnunt, killed at Killicrankie, 366. Dunkeld, bi-hop of, drives the English to their ships, 184. Edgar Athe'ing, his feeble character and conduct, 64,69, 94. Edgehill, battle of, 334. Edicard the Confessor, his partiality for the Normans, 49. Edward I. conducts the war against the Earl of Leicester, 152. Life of, 155. Edward IT. accession of, 174. His nobles rebel against him, 175, 187. Unsuccessfully invades S- otland, 174, 177, 185, 188. Is deposed by the queen, 190. Assassinated, 191. Edicard III. his unfortunate campaign against the Scots, 191. In- vades Scotland and gains the b.ittle of Ha:idon Hill, 198. Is ruc- cessfullv opposed bv Sir Andrew Murray, 199. Life of, 201. Edward the Ulack Prince, gallant conduct of, at Crecv, 207. Life of, 214. Edirard son of Henry VI. murdered at Tewkesbury, 290. Edward IF. gain< a victory over the Lancasteriaus at ^Mortimer's cross, 281. Is called to the throne, 281. Gains the battle of Tow- ton. 282. Is driven from Knarland by Warwick, 286. Returns from Burgundy, 287. Defeats Warwick at Barnet, 288. Defeats the queen at Tewkesbury, 2S9. Invades France, 291. Dies, 293. Egypt, expedition of the British to, 4*9. I,7iza6f//!, accession of, to the throne of England, 313. Nature of her administration, ib. Sends aid to the Protestants of Scotland, 315. Dies, 316. Elliott, lord Heathiield, life of, 440. , Sir Gilbert, his viceroyalty of Corsica, 501. Ely, isle of, defended by Hereward Le Wake, 81. Betrayed by the Monks, 83. Elhandune, defeat of the Danes by Alfred at, 40. Eustace, count of Boulogne, his violent conduct at Dover, 30. Sum- moned to aid the English against William the Conqueror, 67. Evesham, battle of, 152. Falkirk, battle of, 166. Feudal system, established iu England by William the Conqueror, 86. Flanders, the duke of York's ruinous retreat through, 515. Flemish merchants, their gallant defence of Berwick, 163. Flodden, battle of, 305. Fuentes d'Onoro, battle of, 552. Galpacus, life of, 21. Geoffry, s'>n of Henry II. wars against his fatlier, 112. His untirael) death, 114. George I., access ion of, 369. Die<=, 370. George II., accession of, 370. Dies, 371. George III , accession of, 420. Geriah in the East Indies, captnrpd, 432. Gibraltar, able defence of, by Eliintt, 443. Godwin, earl, his power and'popularity, 50. Grampians, battle of the, 22. Gitnuowder, changes wrought in war bv, 302. Gulhrun, the Danish leader, his wars with Alfred, 38. Halidon Hill, battle of, 198 Hampden, his refusal to pav tonnage and poundage, 329. Hardrada invades England, 54. Is slain at the battle of Stamford Bridge, 55. Harold, his journey to the court of Normandy, 51. Circumvented by William, 52. Chosen king, 53. Defeats' Hardrada at Stamford bridge, 54. (s defeated anil slain at Hasting, 61. Harris, lord, life of, 469. Hasting the Danish leader, his wars with Alfred, 41. Hastings, battle of, 61. Hmgist and Horsa obtain a settlement in Britain, 28. Henry Beauclerk ascends the throne, 92. Wars with his brother Ro bert, 93. His successes against the French, 93. Loses his son by shipwreck, 96. Dies, 99. Hniry II. accession of, 105. Invades Ireland, 108. Dissensions among his sons, 108. Grief at the death of his son Henry, 1 14. Reduced to extreniitv by the king of France, and his son'Richard, 115. His death, 116. Henry III., his rash attachment to strangers, 146. Losses in France, 147. Taken prisoner at the battle of Lewes, 151. Dits, 155. Henry of Hereford's quarrel with the duke of Norfolk, 233. Returns from banishment, 234. Usurps thecrown under the title of Henry IV. 235. Henry IV. his unsuccessful inroads into Wales, 237. Quarrels with the Percies, 239. Deteaus them at Shiewsburv, 240. Dies, 243. Henry V., life of, 243. Henry VI., accession of, 255. His marriage, 271. Loses all his pos- sessions in France, 272. Taken prisoner by the Yorkisis at St. Al- ban's, 276. Endeavours to reconcile the contending parties, 277. Taken pilsoner at Northampton, 278. Delivered bv the Queen at St. Alban's, 280. Flies to Scotland, 262. Is again apprehended, and sent to the Tower, 283 Is delivered by the earl of Warwick, 286. Sentaarain to the Tower by Edward IV.,'287. Henry VII., defeats Richard III. at Bosworth, 297. Crowned, and marries ttie Princess Elizabeth, 298. Opposed by the pretensions of Lambert Sininel, 298. And of Perkin Warbeck, 300. Dies, 302. Henry VIII., accession of, .?04. Invades France, 303. Besieges Te- rouenne, 307. Gains the battle of Spurs, 307. Invades France a second time, 308. Endeavours to unite Scotland with England, 309. Dies, 310. Henry of Transtamare defeated by the Black Prince, 223. Heptarchy, kingdoms of united under Egbert, 32. Hereford, lord ■>f, his conspiracy against William the Conqueror, 71. Herexcard Le IVahe, life of, 60. //j//, lnrd,lifeof, 598, Homildon, defeat of the Scots at, 238. Hotspur, defeated in sinele combat by Douglas, 231. Is defeated and taken prisoner at Otterbourne, 232. Gains the victory of Homildon, INDEX. 633 238. Rebels against Henry IV., 240. Is defeated and slain at Slirews- burv, 241. Hyde'r Ally, his rise, 476. His unjust treatment from tlie Britisli, 477. His successes, 478. Defeats tlie Britisli, 480. India, formation of our empire in, 427, 464, 469, 476, 486, 515. Innocent III., his contest with king John, 137, 139. Interdict, sentence of, pronounced against England, 137. Ireland, conquest of, by the English, 106. Invaded by Oliver Crom- well, a36. Espouses the cause of James II , 367. Jaffa, battle of, between Richard I. and Saladin, 124. James IF. of Scotland invades England, 305. Is defeated and slain at Flodden, 306. James I., accession of, to the English throne, 328. His arbitrary ad- miuistrati>n, i6. Dies, 329. James II., accession of, 365. Is deposed, 366. Jeu-s, massacre of, at the accession of Richard I,, 119. John, the accession of, to the thront-, 134. Murders his nephew Arthur, 136. Loses his possessions on the continent, ih. Quarrels with the pope, 137. His cruelty to the Jews, 138. His surrender to the pope, 140. The nobles combine against him, ib. Compelled to subscribe Ma^na Charta, 142. Dies at Newark, 145. John, king of France, taken prisoner at Poictiers, 219. Joseph, king of Spain, defeattd at Talavera, 536. Obliged to fly from Matlrid, 559. Defeated at Vittoria, 564. Judith, wife of earl Waltheof, her infamous conduct, 73. Junol, marshal, defeated at Vimiero, 527. Killihrankie, battle of, 366. Knight, education of, 214. Knighthood, order of, among the Anglo-Saxons, 81. Koveripauk, victory gained at, by Clive, 430. Lake, viscount, life of, 456. Laswaree, victory of Lake at, 491. Lea river, Alfred strands the Danish nav^ in, 43. Leith besieged by the ^cots and English, 315. Leslie, general, invades England, 330. Letces, battle of, 150. Limoges stormed bv the Black Prince, 226. Lincoln, battle near, between Stephen and the English barons, 102. Londonderry, siege of, 367. Lonis, the dauphin of France, invades England, 143. Is compelled to leave England, 145. Lonishourg', capture of, 413. Lynedoch, lord, life of, 618. Madrid, welcome of Wellins-ton into, 550. Mahommedanism, history of, 117. Maida, battle of, 495. Malcolm Canmore, his reception of refugees from England, 88. Malplaquet, battle of, 389. Mar, earl of, proclaims the Pretender in Scotland, 369—106. Is de- feated at Dumblain, 406. Embarks for France, 408. Margaret of Anjou married to Henry VI., 271. >hares in the assas- sination of the good duke Hiiniplirev, 272. Her violent conduct aiainst the Yorkists, 276. Is defeited bv the earl of Warwick at Northampton, 278. Defeats the .lukt of Vork at Wakefield, 279. Defeats the earl of Warwick at St. Alban's, 2S0. Flies t« Scotland, 282. Is defeat- d at Hexhair,, 283. Forms an alliance with the earl of Warwick, 285. Is liefeated at Tewkesbury, 289. Marlborough, duke of, life of, 371. Marmont defeated at Salam tnca, 558. Marston moor, battle of, 346. 633 INDEX. Miissfiia defeated at Busaco, 545. Oblig:ed to evacuate Portugal, 550. Defeated at Fuentes d'Ouoro, 552. Matilda appointed to the roval succession bv Henry Beauclerk, 96. Is supplanted by Steplien, y'9. Her wars with Stephen, «6. Miscrios occasioned by them, 104. Mazarine, cardinal, his dread of Cromwell, 362. Monacltisnt, abuses of, in Kns^land, 46. Monk, oreneral, restores the monarchy, 364. Mont/orl, Simon de, earl of Leicester, drives the foreign favourites of Henry 111. from Enjland, 149. Is slain at the battle of Evesham, 153. Atoni/art, countess of, her irallant defence of Hennebon, 203. Re- lie»ed by Sir Walter Manny, ib. Montrose, earl of, embraces the cause of Charles I., 336. Gains a vic- tory at Perth, 3)7. Defeats Arsjvll at Inverloehy, 338. Gains the victories of Alderne and Alford, 339. Is defeated at Pliilipliau^h, ib. Moore, Sir John, life of, 497. Muskets first used, 303. Kajara, victory of the Black Prince at, 223. Nasebi/, battle of, J4S. I>levill's Cross, battle of, 208. I^ew Forest, orisrin of, 76 l^'iietle, enjasfemeiit at the, 572. ISormans, character of the, ai. Txcesses of, in England, 50, 64, 104. fiurthdiupton, victory of the Yorkists near, 278. Noruu-h, bishop of, iinsuccesshilU invadi-s France, 230. Pfuncios, pipal, frii,'htened out of Scotland, 164. Odo, bishop of Bayeux, bears a command at the battle of Hastinj^s, 61. His oppressixe conduct in Eusland, 67. lmpri^oned by William the Contpieror, 76. Banished by William Kufus, 89. Orthez, battle of, 575. Osli:, bJttle of, 567. thfurins, defeat of Caractaciis bv, 13. (til, rhinirne, vietorv of the Scots at, 232. (tiid-narde, bartle of, 3s7. (hitluics, Kner\icM of peneral Abercromby in the, 147. Services of ireneral Moore in the, 502. Williiim the Conqueror, lil"e of, 56. Williiim livj'iis succeeds to the throne of England, 89. His wars with the Nornran nobles, ib. His death, 91. Willinm the Lion taken prisoner at Alnwick, 111. H iltiiini of Orange called to ti.e Briti>h throne, 36o. Crosses over to Irel:ind,"367. Giins t'le victory of the Bojne, 368. Dies, 3i59. U in^'iy-fiiid, victory of Cromwell at, 345. M o//e," life of, 412. York stormed by the English, 68. Retaken by the Normans, 69. Mas- sacre of the Jews at, 1 19. York and Lancaster, war between the houses of, 273. > or*, duke of, his claims to the cnwn of l.n<,'land, 273. Appointed protector of the kinirdom, 275. Defeats the L.tncasterians at >t. Alban's, ih. Is afraid to occupy the throne, 278. Is defeated and slain at Wakefield, 279, Piiuted b\ A. SWEETING, 15, Bartlett's Buildings, London. J 'l^^ m> 'Ms