Qass i__ I Je^ THE F //' " \ DECISIVE BATTLES OF THE WORLD FROM MARATHON" TO WATERLOO BY E. S. CREASY PROFESSOR OP ANCIENT AND MODERN HISTORY IN UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON LATE FELLOW IN KINO's COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE Those few battles of which a contrary event would have essentially varied the drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes.— Hallam NEW YORK : WM. L. ALLISON, Nos. 93 Chambers and 75 Reade Streets. 1886. r t-' BV TRANSFIX PREFACE. It is an honorable characteristic of the spirit of this age, that proj ects of violence and warfare are regarded among civilized states with gradually increasing aversion. The Universal Peace Society certainly does not, and probably never will, enroll the majority of statesmen among its members. But even those who look upon the appeal of battle as occasionally unavoidable in international controversies, concur in thinking it a deplorable necessity, only to be resorted to when all peaceful modes of arrangement have been vainly tried, and when the law of self-defense justifies a state, nke an individual, in using force to protect itself from imminent and serious injury. For a writer, therefore, of the present day to choose battles for his favorite topic, merely because they were battles ; merely because so many myriads of troops were arrayed in them, and so many hundreds of thousands of human beings stabbed, hewed, or shot each other to death during them, would argue strange weakness or depravity of mind. Yet it can not be denied that a fearful and wonderful interest is attached to these scenes of carnage. There is undeniable greatness in the disci- plined courage, and in the love of honor, which makes the combat- ants confront agony and destruction. And the powers of the human intellect are rarely more strongly displayed than they are in the commander who regulates, arrays, and wields at his will these masses of armed disputants ; who, cool, yet daring in the midst of peril, reflects on all, and provides for all, ever ready with fresh resources and designs, as the vicissitudes of the storm of slaughter require. But these qualities, however high they may appear, are to be found in the basest as well as in the noblest of mankind. Catiline was as brave a soldier as Leonidas, and a 411*^ iv PBEFAC:^, much better officfer. Alva surpassed the Prince of Orange in the field ; and Suwarrow was the military superior of Kosciusko. To adopt the emphatic words of Byron, "Tls the cause miikes all, Degrades or liallows courage In Its fall. There are some battles, also, which claim our attention, inde- pendently of the moral worth of the combatants, on account of their enduring importance, and by reason of the practical influence on our own social and political condition, which we can trace up to the results of those engagements. They have for us an abiding and actual interest, both while we investigate the chain of causes and effects by which they have helped to make us what we are, and also while we speculate on what we probably should have been, if any one of those battles had come to a different termina- tion. Hallam has admirably expressed this in his remarks on the victory gained by Charles Martel, between Tours and Poictiers, over the invading Saracens. He says of it that " it may justly be reckoned among those few battles of which a contrary event would have essentially varied the drama of the world in all its subsequent scenes : with Mara- thon, Arbela, the Metaurus, Chalons, and Leipsic." It was the perusal of this note of Hallam's that first led me to the considera- tion of my present subject. I certainly differ from that great his- torian as to the comparative importance of some of the battles which he thus enumerates, and also of some which he omits. It is probable, indeed, that no two historical inquirers would entirely agree in their lists of the Decisive Battles of the World. Different minds will naturally vary in the impressions which particular events make on them, and in the degree of interest with which they watch the career, and reflect on the importance of different historical personages. But our concurring in our catalogues is of little moment, provided we learn to look on these great historical events in the spirit which Hallam's observations indicate. Those remarks should teach us to watch how the interests of many states are often involved in the collisions between a few ; and how the effect of those collisions is not limited to a single age, but may give an impulse which will sway the fortunes of successive PREFACE. V generations of mankind. Most valuable, alHO, is the mental die- cipline "vvhich is thus acquired, and ty which we are trained not only to observe what has been and what is, but also to ponder on what might have been.* We thus learn not to judge of the wisdom of measures too ex- clusively by the results. We learn to apply the juster standard of seeing what the circumstances and the probabilities were that surrounded a statesman or a general at the time when he decided on his plan ; we value him, riot by his fortune, but by his npoiaf>E8ii, to adopt the expressive word of Polybius.t for which our language gives no equivalent. The reasons why each of the following fifteen battles has been selected will, I trust, appear when it is described. But it may be well to premise a few remarks on the negative tests which have led me to reject others, which at first eight may appear equal in magnitude and importance to the chosen fifteen. I need hardly remark that it is not the number of killed and wounded in a battle that determines ita general historical import- ance. J It is not because only a few hundreds fell in the battle by which Joan of Arc captured the Tourelles and raised the siege of Orleans, that the effect of that crisis is to be judged ; nor would a full belief in the largest number which Eastern historians state to have been slaughtered in any of the numerous conflicts between Asiatic rulers, make me regard the engagement in which they fell as one of paramount importance to mankind. But, besides battles of this kind, there are many of great consequence, and attended with circumstances which powerfully excite our feelings and rivet our attention, and yet which appear to me of mere secondary rank, inasmuch as either their effects were limited in area, or they them- selves merely confirmed some great tendency or bias which an earlier battle had originated. For example, the encounters be- tween the Greeks and Persians, which followed Marathon, seem to me not to have been phenomena of primary impulse. Greek superiority had been already asserted, Asiatic ambition had already been checked, before Salamis and P]ata?a confirmed the superiority • See Bolingbroke "On the Study and Use ol History," vol. U., p. 497, of his collected notes, t Polyb., lib. ix., sect. 9. „ ^ t See Montesquieu, " Grandeur et Decadence des Romains, p. ». yi PBEFACR of Etiropean free states over Oriental despotism. So ^gospotamos, wnich finally crushed the maritime power of Athens, seems to me inferior in interest to the defeat before Syracuse, where Athens received her first fatal check, and after which she only struggled to retard her downfall. I think similarly of Zama with respect to Carthage, as compared with the Metaurus ; and, on the same principle, the subsequent great battles of the Kevolutionary war appear to me inferior in their importance to Valmy, which first determined the military character and career of the French Kevo- lution, I am aware that a little activity of imagination and a slight exercise of metaphysical ingenuity may amuse ns by showing how the chain of cireumstanees is so linked together, that the smallest skirmish, or the slightest occurrence of any kind, that ever occur- red, may be said to have been essential in its actual termination to the whole order of subsequent events. But when I speak of causes and effects, I speak of the obvious and important agency of one fact upon another, and not of remote and fancifully infini- tesimal influences. I am aware that, on the other hand, the re- proach of Fatalism is justly incurred by those who, like the writers of a certain school in a neighboring country, recognize in history nothing more than a series of necessary phenomena, which follow inevitably one upon the other. But when, in this work, I speak of probabilities, I speak of human probabilities only. When I speak of cause and effect, I speak of those general laws only by which we perceive the sequence of human affairs to be usually regulated, and in which we recognize emphatically the wisdom and power of the supreme Lawgiver, the design of the Designer. HrrsB Court Chambebs, Tbuplb) Juna 26. l&KU J CONTENTS. CHAPTEE L Pag». The Battle of Mabathon 11 Explanatory Remarks on some of the Circumstances of the Battle of Marathon 36 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Marathon, b.c. 490, and the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, b.c. 413,. . . , , . 38 CHAPTER n. Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse, b.c. 413 40 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Athenians at Syracuse and the Battle of Arbela , , , ,.,,,,,.. 56 CHAPTER m. The Battle op Aebela, b.c. 331 57 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Arbela and the * Battle of tiie Metaurus , . , , , 76 CHAPTER IV. The Battle op ths Metatjbus b.c. 207 : 79 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of the Metaurus, b. c. 207, and Arminius's Victory over the Roman Legions under Varus, A.D. 9 101 vii vui C0N2ENTS. CHAPTER V. ViOTOKT OP AbMINIUS OVER THE EoMAN LeGIONS UNDER VaRTTS, A.D. 9 104 A.rminms 116 Synopsis of Events between Arminius's Victory over Varus and the Battle of Chalons , 124 CHAPTER VI. The Battle ov Chalons, a.d. 451 125 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Chalons, a.d. 451, and the Battle of Tours, 732 13l CHAPTER ^^^. The Battle of Tours, a.d. 732 , 138 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Tourss a.d. 732, and the Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1429 147 CHAPTER Vin. The Battle of Hastings, a.d. 1066 149 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Hastipgs, >^d. 1066, and Joan of Arc's Victory at Orleans, a.d, 1429. 175 CHAPTER IX. Joan of Arc's Victory over the English at Orleans, a.d. 1429 178 Synopsis of Events between Joan of Arc's Victory of Orleans, A.D. 1429, and the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, a.d. 1588.... 194 CHAPTER X. The Defeat op the Spanish Armada, a.d. 1588 * 195 Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Armada, A.D. 1588, and the Battle of Blenheim, a j). 1704 215 CHAPTER XI. The Battle op Blenheim, a.d. 1704 , 216 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Blenheim, a.d. 1704, 'and the Battle of Pultowa, a.d. 1709 235 CHAPTER Xn. The Battle op Pultowa, a.d. 1709 236 Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Pultowa, a.d. 1709, and the Defeat of Burgoyne at Saratoga, a.d. 1777 247 CONTENTS, ix CHAPTER XIIL VlCTOBY C»P THE AmEBICANS OVER BUEGOYNE AT SaEATOGA, A.D. 1777 ;;•••/••• Synopsis ot Events between the Defeat of Burgoyne at baratoga, A,D. 1777, ai. : the Battle of Valmy a.d. 1792 ^o7 CHAPTER XIV. The Battle of Valmt, a.d. 1792 • • • • • • • • • ^^^ Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Valmy, a.d. 1794, ana the Battle of Water^o, a.d. 1815 ■ ^^ CHAPTER XV. The BATTiiB of "WATERii A.i>. 1815. Fifteen Decisive Battles Of the World, CHAPTER L THE BATTIiE OF MAEATHON. Qulbus axjtus uterque Buropse atque Aslse fatls concurrerlt orbls. Two THOtrsAND three hundred and forty years ago, a council oi Athenian officers was summoned on the slope of one of the moun- tains that look over the plain of Marathon, on the eastern coast of Attica. The immediate subject of their meeting was to consider whether they should give battle to an enemy that lay encamped on the shore beneath them; but on the resuL of their deliberations depended, not merely the fate of two armies, but the whole future progress of human civilization. There were eleven members of that council of war. Ten were the generals who were then annually elected at Athens, one for each of the local tribes into which the Athenians were divided. Each general led the men of his own tribe, and each was invested with equal military authority. But one of the archons was also associated with them in the general command of the army. This magistrate was termed the polemarch or War-ruler; he had the privilege of leading the right wing of the army in battle, and his vote in a council of war was equal to that of any of the generals. A noble Athenian named Callimachus was the War-ruler of this year; and as such, stood listening to the earnest discussion of the ten generals. They had, indeed, deep matter for anxiety, though little aware how momentous to mankind were the votes they were about to give, or how the generations to come would read with interest the record of their discussions. They saw before them the invad- ing forces of a mighty empire, which had in the last fifty years shattered and enslaved nearly all the kingdoms and principalities oi the then known world. Thev knew that all the resources of • H 13 DECISIVE BATTLES. their ovra country were comprised in the little army I'ntrnsted to their guidance. They saw before them a chosen host of the Great King, sent to wreak his special wrath on that country, and on the other insolent little Greek community, which had dared to aid hia rebels and burn the capital of one of his provinces. That victo* rious host had already fulfilled half its mission of vengeance. Eretria, the confederate of Athens in the bold march against Sardis nine years before, had fallen in the last few days, and the Athenian generals could discern from the heights the island of .SJgilia, in which the Persians had deposited their Eretrian prisoners, whom they had reserved to be led away captives into Upper Asia, there to hear their doom from the lips of King Darius himself. Moreover, the men of Athens knew that in the camp before them was their own banished tyrant, who was seeking to be reinstated by foreign cimeters in despotic sway over any remnant of his countrymen that might survive the sack of their town, and n^ight be left behind as too worthless for leading away into Median bondage. The numerical disparity between the force which the Athenian commanders had under them, and that which they were called on to encounter, was hopelessly apparent to some of the council. The historians who wrote nearest to the time of the battle do not pretend to give any detailed statements of the numbers engaged, but there are sufficient data for our making a general estimate. Every free Greek was trained to military duty; and, from the in- cessant border wars between the different states, few Greeks reached the age of manhood without having seen some service. But the muster-roll of free Athenian citizens of an age fit for military duty never exceeded thirty thousand, and at this epoch probably did not amount to two-thirds of that number. Moreover, the poorer por- tion of these were unprovided with the equipments,' and untrained to the operations of the regular infantry. Some detachments of the best-armed troops would be required to garrison the city itself and man the various fortified posts in the territory; so that it is impos- sible to reckon the fully equipped force that marched from Athens to Marathon when the news of the Persian landing arrived, at high- er than ten thousand men. * With one exception, the other Greeks held back from aiding them. Sparta had promised assistance, but the Persians had land- ed on the sixth day of the moon, and a religious scruple delayed the march of Spartan troops till the moon should have reached its • Tlie historians, who lived long after the time of the hattle, such as Jus- tin. Plutarch, and others, give ten thousand as the number of the Athenian army. Not much reUancc could be placed on their authorit3^ if unsupported by other evidence ; but a calculation made for the number of the Athenian fi-ee population remarkably conflnns it. For the data of this, see Boeckh's "Pubhc Economy of Athens," vol. 1., p. 45. Some Mf'rozKoz pro^a'^ly served as HopUtes at Marathon, but the number of resident aliens at Athens eannot have been large at this period. BATTLE OF MAUATIION. 13 fttll» From one quarter only, and that from a most unexpected one, did Athens receive aid at the moment of her great peril. Some years before this time the little state of Hataea in Boeotia, being hard pressed' by her powerful neighbor, Thebes, had asked the protection of Athens, and had owed to an Athenian army the rescue of her independence. Now when it was noised over Greece that the Mede had come from the uttermost parts of the earth to destroy Athens, the brave Plataeans, unsolicited, marched with their whole force to assist the defense, and to share the fortunes of their benefactors. The general levy of the Plataeans only amount- ed to a thousand men; and this little column, marching from their city along the southern ridge of Mount Cithseron, and thence across the Attic territory, joined the Athenian forces above Marathon al- most immediately before the battle. The re-enforcement was num- erically small, but the gallant spirit of the men who composed it must have made it of ten-fold value to the Athenians; and its pres- ence must have gone far to dispel the cheerless feeling of being deserted and friendless, which the delay of the Spartan succors was calculated to create among the Athenian ranks. * This generous daring of their weak but true-hearted ally was never forgotten at Athens. The Platseans were made the civil fel- low-countrymen of the Athenians, except the right of exercising certain political functions; and from that time forth, in the solemn sacrifices at Athens, the public prayers were offered up for a joint blessing from Heaven upon the Athenians, and the Platseans also. After the junction of the column from Platsea, the Athenian com- manders must have had under them about eleven thousand fully- armed and disciplined infantry, and probably a larger number of irregular light-armed troops; as, besides the poorer citizens who went to the field armed with javelins, cutlasses, and targets, each regular heavy-armed soldier was attended in the camp by one or more slaves, who were armed like the inferior freemea. f Cavalry or archers the Athenians (on this occasion) had none; and the use in the field of military engines was not at that period introduced into ancient warfare. • Mr. Grote observes (vol. Iv., p. 464) that "tMs volunteer marcli of the whole Platsean force to Marathon is one of the most affecting incidents of all Grecian history." In truth, the whole career of Plataea, and the friendship, strong, even unto death, between her and Athens, form one of the most af- fecting episodes in the history of antiquity. In the Peloponnesian war the Plataeans again were true to the Athenians against all risks, and all calcula- tion of self-interest ; and the destruction of Plattea was the consequence. There are few nobler passages in the classics than the speech in wlilch the Platiean prisoners of war, after the memorable siege of their city, justify before their Spartan executioners their loyal adherence to Athens. See Thdcydldes, lib. iii , sees. 53-60. t At the battle of Platasa, eleven years after Marathon, each of the eight thousand Athenian regular infantiy who served them was attended by a Mght-armed slave.~Herod., lib. vili., c. 2S, 29 14 • DECISIVE BATTLES. Contrasted with their own scanty forces, the Greek commanuers saw stretched before them, along the shores of the winding bay, the tents and shipping of the varied nations who marched to do the bidding of the king of the Eastern world. The difficulty of finding transports and of securing provisions would form the only limit to the numbers of a Persian army. Nor is there any reason to suppose the estimate of Justin exaggerated, who rates at a hun- dred thousand the force which on this occasion had sailed, under the satraps Datis and Artaphernes, from the Cilician shores against the devoted coasts of Euboea and Attica. And after largely deduct- ing from this total, so as to allow for mere mariners and camp fol- lowers, there must still have remained fearful odds against the national levies of the Athenians. Nor could Greek generals then feel that confidence in the superior quality of their troops, which ever since the battle of Marathon has animated Europeans in con- flicts with Asiatics; as, for instance, in the after struggles between Greece and Persia, or when the Eoman legions encountered the myriads of Mithradates and Tigranes, or as is the case in the In- dian campaigns of our own regiments. On the contrary, up to the day of Marathon the Medes and Persians were reputed invincible. They had more than once met Greek troops in Asia Minor, in Cyprus, in Egypt, and had invariably beaten them. Nothing can be stronger than the expressions used by the early Greek writers respecting the terror which the name of the Medes inspired, and the prostration of men's spirits before the apparently resistless career of the Persian arms.* It is, therefore, little to be wondered at, that five of the ten Athenian generals shrank from the prospect of fighting a pitched battle against an enemy so superior in num- bers and so lormidable in military renown. Their own position on the heights was strong, and offered great advantages to a small defending force against assailing masses. They deemed it mere foolhardiness to descend into the plain to be trampled down by the Asiatic horse, overwhelmed with the archery, or cut to pieces by the invincible veterans of Cambyses and Cyrus. Moreover, Sparta, the great war-state of Greece, had been applied to, and had promised succor to Athens, though the religious observance which the Dorians paid to certain times and seasons had for the present delayed their march. Was it not wise, at any rate, to wait till the Spartans came up, and to have the help of the best troops in Greece, before they exposed themselves to the shock of the dreaded MedesJ/ *''ABrfvaioi rcp^roi dvadxovro edQi/rd rs Mr^diXTJr opecov' re's, xai rovi drdpa<3 ravryv £6Q7//u£vovi' tsgoS 6k yr roldi 'EXX7]6i nai to ovvojiia T(Sy Mr'/dcDV q^osoi axovCai. — Hebo- DOTTJS lib. vi., c. 112. , Ai dLyvcS/xai dEdovXcojiisvai dTrdvTGOv ayBpooTrcor ifdav ovTGO TTo/XXd Mcd /iiEydXa xai /.idxi^cc yivrj nar a6 e6 ovXco^iivri rjv 7/ IIep6cov do^V. — Pi^tiio, jhenexervus. BATTLE OF MARATHOK 15 Specious as these reasons might appear, the other five generals were for speedier and bolder operations. And, I'ortunately for Athens and for the world, one of them was a man, not only of the highest military genius, but also of that energetic character, which impresses its own type and ideas upon spirits ieebler m conception. Miltiades was the head of one of the noblest houses at Athens; he janked the .^acidse" among his ancestry, and the blood of Achilles flowed in the veins of the hero of Marathon. One of his immedi- ate ancestors had acquired the dominion of the Thracian Cher- sonese, and thus the family became at the same time Athenian citi- zens and Thracian princes. This occurred at the time when Pisis- tratus was tyrant of Athens. Two of the relatives of Miltiades — an uncle of the same name, and a brother named ^tesagoras — had ruled the Chersonese before Miltiades became its prince. \ He had been brought up at Athens in the house of his father, Cimon,* who was renowned throughout Greece for his victories in the Olympic chariot-races, and who must have been possessed of great wealth. The sons of Pisistratus, who succeeded their father in the tyranny at Athens, caused Cimon to be assassinated ;t but they treated the young Miltiades with favor and kindnessj and when his brother Stesagoras died in the Chersonese, they sent him out there as lord of the principality. This was about twenty-eight years before the battle of Marathon, and it is with his arrival in the Chersonese that our first knowledge of the career and character of Miltiades commences. We find, in the first act recorded of him, the proof of the same resolute and unscrupulous spirit that marked his mature age. His brother's authority in the principality had been shaken by war and revolt ; Miltiades determined to rule more securely. On his arrival he kept close within his house, as if he was mourning for his brother. The principal men of the Cher- sonese, hearing of this, assembled from all the towns and districts, and went together to the house of Miltiades, on a visit of condo- lence. As soon as he had thus got them in his power, he made them all prisoners. He then asserted and maintained his own absolute authority in the peninsulp,, taking into his pay a body of five hundred regular troops, and strengthening his interest by marrying the daughter of the king of the neighboring Thracians. When the Persian power was extended to the Hellespont and its neighborhood, Miltiades, as prince of the Chersonese, submit- ted to King Darius ; and he was one of the numerous tributary rulers who led their contingents of men to serve in the Persian camp, in the expedition against Scythia. Miltiades and the vassal Greeks of Asia Minor were left by the Persian king in charge of the bridge across the Danube, when the invading army crossed that river, and plunged into the wilds of the country that now is Russia, in vain pursuit of the ancestors of the modern Cossacks. * Heroaotus, UD. vi., c. 103. t lb. i6 DECISIVE BATTLES. On learninp; the reverses that Darius met with in the Scythian wilderness, Miltiades proposed to his companions that they should break the bridge down, and leave the Persian king and his army to perish by famine and the Scythian arrows. The rulers of the Asiatic Greek cities, whom Miltiades addressed, shrank from this bold but ruthless stroke against the Persian power, and Darius returned in safety. . But it was known what advice Miltiades had given, and the vengeance of Darius was thenceforth specially directed against the man who had counseled such a deadly blow against his empire and his person. The occupation of the Persian arms in other quarters left Miltiades for some years after this in possession of the Chersonese ; but it was precarious and inter- rupted. He, however, availed himself of the opportunity which his position gave him of conciliating the good-will of his fellow- countrymen at Athens, by conquering and placing under the Athenian authority the islands of Lemnos and Imbros, to which Athens had ancient claims, but which she had never previously been able to bring into complete subjection. At length, in 494, B. c, the complete suppression of the Ionian revolt by the Per- sians left their armies and fleets at liberty to act against the enemies of the Great King to the west of the Hellespont. A strong squadron of Phenician galleys was sent against the Cherso- nese. Miltiades knew that resistance was hopeless ; and while the Phenicians were at Tenedos, he loaded five galleys with all the treasure that he could collect, and sailed away for Athens. The Phenicians fell in with him, and chased him hard along the north of the ^gean . One of his galleys, on board of which was his eldest son, Metiochus, was actually captured. But Miltiades, with the other four, succeeded in reaching the friendly coast of Imbros in safety. Thence he afterward proceeded to Athens, and re- sumed his station as a free citizen of the Athenian commonwealth. The Athenians, at this time, had recently expelled Hippias, the son of Pisistratus, the last of their tyrants. They were in the full glow of their newly-recovered liberty and equality ; and the constitutional changes of Cleisthenes had inflamed their re- publican zeal to the utmost. Miltiades had enemies at Athens ; and these, availing themselves of the state of popular feeling, brought him to trial for his life for having been tyrant of the Chersonese. The charge did not necessai;^ import any acts of cruelty or wrong to individuals : it was fouhded on no specific law ; but it was based on the horror with which the Greeks of that age regarded every man who made himself arbitrary master of his fellow-men, and exercised irresponsible dominion over them. The fact of Miltiades having so ruled in the Chersonese was un- deniable but the question which the Athenians assembled in judgment must have tried, was whether Miltiades, although tyrant of the Chersonese, deserved punishment as an Athenian citizen. The eminent service that he had done the state in con- M^fLJE OF MAEATHOir. If quering Lemnos and Imbros for it, pleaded strongly in his favor. The people refused to convict him. He stood high in public opin- ion. And when the coming invasion of the Persians was known, the people wisely elected him one of their generals for the year. Two other men of high eminence in history, though their re- nown was achieved at a later period tban that of Miitiades, were also among the ten Athenian generals, at Marathon. One was Themistocles, the future founder of the Athenian navy, and the destined victor of SaLimis. The other was Aristides, who after- ward led the Atheni-o-n troops at Plateea, and whose integrity and just popularity acquired for his country, when the Persians had finally been repulsed, the advantageous pre-eminence of being acknowledged by half of the Greeks as their imperial leader and protector. It is not recorded what part either Themistocles or Aristides took in the debate of the counsel of war at Marathon. But, from the charajster of Themistocles, his boldness, and his intuitive genius for extemporizing the best measures in _ every emergency* (a quality which the greatest of historians ascribes to him beyond all his contemporaries), we may well believe tha^i the vote of Themistocles was for prompt and decisive action. On the vote of Aristides it may be more difficult to speculate. His predilection for the Spartans may have made him wish to wait till they came up ; but though circumspect, he was neither timid as a soldier nor as a politician, and the bold advice of Mii- tiades may probably have found in Aristides a willing, most as- suredly it found in him a candid, hearer. Miitiades felt no hesitation as to the course which the Athenian army ought to pursue; and earnestly did he press his opinion on his brother-generals. Practically acquainted with the organization of the Persian armies, Miitiades felt convinced of the superiority of the Greek troops, if properly handled; he saw with tho military eye of a great general the advantage which the position of the forces gave him for a sudden attack, and as a profound politician he felt the perils of remaining inactive, and of giving treachery time to ruin the Athenian cause. One officer in the council of war had not yet voted. This was Callimachus, the War-ruler. The votes of the generals^ wore five a id five, so that the voice of Callimachus would be decisive. On that vote, in all human probability, the destiny of all the nations of the world depended. Miitiades turned to him, and in simple soldierly eloquence, the substance of which we may read faithfully reported in Herodotus, who had conversed with the vet- * See the cliaracter of Themistocles in the 138th section of the first book of Thucydides, especially the last sentence. Kai ro ^vfiitav eiTtaiv (pvdEGoi jusv dvvdjuei ^sXsryi ds ppaxvTrjri jipdzi- 6zoi dtf ovroi avto6x^^^ccl£iv rd dsovra eyivsvo. 18 DECISIVE iATTm erans of Marathon, tlie great Athenian thus adjured his country- men to vote for giving battle. "It now rests with you, Callimachus, either to enslave Athens, or, "by assuring her freedom, to win yourself an immortality of fame, such aa not even Harmodius and Aristogeiton have acquired; for never, since the Athenians were a people, were they in such danger as they are in at this moment. If they bow the knee to these Medes, they are to be given up to Hippias, and you know what they then will have to suffer. But if Athens comes victo- rious outof thia contest, she has it in her to become the first city of Greece. !Your vote is to decide whether we are to join battle or not. If we do not bring on a battle presently, some factious in- trigue will disunite the Athenians, and the city will be betrayed to the Medes. But if we fight, before there is anything rotten in the state of Athens, I believe that, provided the gods will give fair play and no favor, we are able to get the best of it in an engage- ment."* The vote of the brave War-ruler was gained; the council deter- mined to give battle; and such was the ascendency and acknowl- edged military eminence of Miltiades, that his brother generals one and all gave up their days of command to him, and cheerfully acted under his orders. Fearful, however, of creating any jealousy, and of so failing to obtain the vigorous co-operation of all parts of his small army, Miltiades waited till the day when the chief com- mand would have come round to him in regular rotation before he .led the troops against the enemy. *^ The inaction of the Asiatic commanders during this interval appears strange at first sight; but Hippias was with them, and they and he were aware of their chance of a bloodless conquest through the machinations of his partisans among the Athenians. The nature of the ground also explains in many points the tactics of the opposite generals before the battle, as well as the operations of the troops during the engagement. The plain of Marathon, which is about twenty-two miles distant from Athens, lies along the bay of the same name on the north- * Herodotus, lit), vi., sec. 109. The llGth section Is tx) my mind clear proof tliat Herodotus had personally conversed with Eplzelus, one of the veterans of Marathon. The suhstance of the speech of Miltiades would naturally tecome known by the report of some of his coUea^es. The speeches which ancient historians place in the mouths of kings and generals are generally inventions of their own ; hut part of this speech of Miltiades bears internal evidence of authenticity, yueh is the case with the remark- able expression T/vde ^v/ii/Ja/iGOjii£v Ttpi'v riuai daOpov 'AOt/vaiGov xere^ste'poidi kyy£ye6Bai, Bsf^v rd ida rsjuovrcoy, oioi te Eif.LEv TtEpiyEyEdBai.rfj 6vj.ifioA.y. This daring and almost liTeverent assertion would never have been coined by Herodotus, but it is precisely consonant with Avhat we know of the character of Ailltiades ; and it is an expression v>-hich 11 used by him, would be sure to bfe remembered and repeated by his hearers. BATTLE OF MABATilOK H eastern coast of Attica. The plain is nearly in the form of a cres- cent, and about six miles in length. It is about two miles broad in the center, where the space between the mountains and the sea is greatest, but it narrows toward either extremity, the mountains coming close down to the water at the horns of the bay. There is a valley trending inward from the middle of the plain, and a ravine comes down to it to the southward. Elsewhere it is closely girt round on the land side by rugged limestone mountains, which are thickly studded with pines, olive-trees, and cedars, and overgrown with the myrtle, arbutus, and the other low odoriferous shrubs that everywhere perfume the Attic air. The level of the ground is now varied by the mound raised over those who fell in the battle, but it was an unbroken plain when the Persians encamped on it. There are marshes at each end, which are dry in spring and summer, and then offer no obstrucUon to the horseman, but are commonly flooded with rain and so rendered impracticable for cavalry in the autumn, the time of year at which the action took place. The Greeks, lying encamped on the mountains, could watch every movement of the Persians on the plain below, while they were enabled completely to mask their own. Miltiades also had from his position, the power of giving battle whenever he pleased, or of delaying it at this discretion, unless Datis were to attempt the perilous operation of storming the heights. If we turn to the map of the Old World, to test the comparative territorial resources of the two states whose armies were now about to come into conflict, the immense preponderance of the material power of the Persian king over that of the Athenian re- public is more striking than any similar contrast which history can supply. It has been truly remarked, that, in estimating mere areas, Attica, containing on its whole surface only seven hundred square miles, shrinks into insignificance, if compared with many a baronial fief of the Middle Ages, or many a colonial allotment of modern times. Its antagonist, the Persian Empire, comprised the whole of modern Asiatic and much of modern Eu- ropean Turkey, the modern kingdom of Persia, and the countries of modern Georgia, Armenia, Balkh, the Punjaub, Afghanistan, Beloochistan, Egypt, and Tripoli. Nor could a European, in the beginning of the fifth century be- fore our era, look upon this huge accumulation of power beneath the scepter of a single Asiatic ruler with the indifference with which we now observe on the map the extensive dominions of modern Oriental sovereigns ; for, as has been already remarked, before Marathon was fought, the prestige of success and of sup- posed superiority of race was on the side of the Asiatic against the European. Asia was the original seat of human societies, an. i. sec. i?, 22 DECISIVE BATTLES. unintelligible enigmas to the curious but baffled beholder ; and they were often referred to as instances of the folly of humar pride, which eo\ild indeed write its own praises in the solid rock, but only for the rock to outlive the language as well as the mem- ory of the vainglorious inscribers. The elder Niebuhr, Grotefend, and Lassen, had made some guesses at the meaninu of the Cunei- form letters; but Major Rawlinson, of the East India Company's service, after years of labor, has at last accomplished the glorious achievement of fully revealing the alj)habet and the grammar of this long unknown tongue. He has, in particular, fully deci- phered and expounded the inscription on the sacred rock of Behistun, on the western frontiers of Media. These records of the Acha?menida3 have at length found their interpreter; and Da- rius himself speaks to us from the consecrated mountain, and tells us the names of the nations that obeyed him, the revolts that Ue suppressed, his victories, his piety, and his glory. * Kings who thus seek the admiration of posterity are little likely to dim the record of their successes by the mention of their occa- sional defeats; and it throws no suspicion on the narrative of the Greek historians that we find these inscriptions silent respecting the overthrow of Datis and Artaphernes, as well as respecting the reverses which Darius sustained in person during his Scythian cam- paigns. But these indisputable monuments of Persian fame con- firm, and even increase the opinion with which Herodotus ia- spires us of the vast power which Cyrus founded and Camb^ses increased; which Darius augmented by Indian and Arabian con- quests, and seemed likely, when he directed his arms against Europe, to make the predominant monarchy of the world. With the exception of the Chinese empire, in which, through- out all ages down to the last few years, one-third of the humar race has dwelt almost unconnected with the other portions, all th great kingdoms, which we know to have existed in nncient Asia, were, in Darius's time, blended into the Persian, ^e northern Indians, the Assyrians, the Syrians, the Babylonians, the Chaldees, the Fhenicians, the nations of Palestine, the Armenians, the Bac- trians,. the Lydians, the Phrs^gians, the Parthians, and the Medes, all obeyed the scepter of the' Great King: the Medes standing next to the native Persians in honor, and the empire being frequently spoken of as that of the Medes or as that of the Medes and Per- sians. Egypt and Cyrene were Persian provinces; the Greek col- onists in Asia Minor and the islands of the .^gsean were Darius's subjects; and their gallant but unsuccessful attempts to throw oft the Persian yoke had only served to rivet it more strongly, and to increase the general belief that the Greeks could not stand be- fore the Persians in a field of battle. Darius's Scythian war, ♦ iSee Xho tentli Yplume of ttie " Jovraftl oJ the Koyal Asiatic Society." BATTLE OF MARATHOIT. 23 though Tinsuccessful in its immediate object, had brought fiboai the snbjugation of Thrace and the submission of Macedonia From the Indus to the Peneus, all was his. We may imagine the wrath with which the lord of so many na- tions must have heard, nine years before the battle of Marathon, that a strange nation toward the setting sun, called the Athenians, had dared to help his rebels in Ionia against him, and that they had plundered and burned the capital of one of his provinces. Before the burning of Sardis, Darius seems never to have heard of the existence of Athens; but his satraps in Asia Minor had for some time seen Athenian refugees at their provincial courts im- ploring assistance against their fellow-countrymen. When Hip- pias was driven away from Athens, and the tyrannic dynasty of the Pisistratid89 finally overthrown in 510 b, c, the banished ty- rant and his adherents, after vainly seeking to be restored by Spartan intervention, had betaken themselves to Sardis, the capi- tal city of the satrapy of Artaphernes. There Hippias (in the ex- pressive words of Herodotus*) began every kind of agitation, slan- dering the Athenians before Artaphernes, and doing all he could to induce the satrap to place Athens in subjection to him, as the tributary vassal of King Darius. When the Athenians heard ol his practices, they sent envoys to Sardis to remonstrate with the Persians against taking up the quarrel of the Athenian refugees. But Artaphernes gave them in reply a menacing command to receive Hippias back again if they looked for safety. The Athe- nians were resolved not to purchase safety at such a price, and after rejecting the satrap's terms, they considered that they and the Persians were declared enemies. At this very crisis the Io- nian Greeks implored the assistance of their European brethren, to enable them to recover their independence from Persia. Athens, and the city of Eretria in Eubcea, alone consented. Twenty Athe- nian galleys, and five Eretrian, crossed the ^gse^n Sea, and by a bold and sudden march upon Sardis, the Athenians and their al- lies succeeded in capturing the capital city of the haughty satrap, who had recently menaced them with servitude or destruction. They were pursued, and defeated on their return to the coast, and Athens took no further part in the Ionian war: but the insult that she had put upon the Persian power was speedily made known throughout that empire, and was never to be forgiven or forgotten. In the emphatic simplicity of the narrative of Herodotus, the wrath of the Great King is thus described: "Now when it was told to King Darius that Sardis had been taken and burned by the Athenians and Ionian s, he took small heed of the lonians, well knowing who they were, and that their revolt would soon be put down; but he asked who, and what manner of men, the Athenians * Herod., lib. v. c. 'y? DEdSIVS BATTLES. ■wer?, iiind when he had been told, he called for his bow; and, b' \ing taken it, and placed an arrow on the string, he let the ar- row fly toward heaven, and as he shot it into the air, he said, ' Oh! supreme Grod, grant me that I may avenge myself on the Athe- nians.' And when he had said this, he appointed one of his ser- vants to say to him every day as he sat at meat, ' Sire, remember the Athenians.'" Some years were occupied in the complete reduction of Ionia. But when this was effected, Darius ordered his victorious forces to proceed to punish Athens and Eretria, and to conquer Euro-^ pean Greece. The first armament sent for this purpose was shat-' tered by shipwreck, and nearly destroyed ofl" Mount Athos. But the purpose of King Darius was not easily shaken. A larger army was ordered to be collected in Cilicia, and requisitions were sent to all the maritime cities of the Persian empire for ships of war, and for transports of sufficient size for carrying cavalry as well as infantry across the Mgsean. While these preparations were being made, Darius sent heralds round to the Grecian cities demanding their submission to Persia. It was proclaimed in the market-place of each little Hellenic state (some with territories not larger than the Isle of Wight) that King Darius, the lord of all men, from the rising to the setting sun,* required earth and water to be delivered to his heralds, as a symbolical acknowledgment that he was head and master of the country. Terror-stricken at the power of Persia and at the severe punishment that had recently been inflicted on the refractory lonians, many of the continental Greeks and nearly all the islanders submitted, and gave the required tokens of vassal- age. At Sparta and Athens an indignant refusal was returned — a refusal which was disgraced by outrage "end violence against the persons of the Asiatic heralds. Fresh fuel was thus added to the anger of Darius against Ath- ens, and the Persian preparations went on with renewed vigor. In the summer of 490 b. c, the army destined for the invasion wa^ assembled in the Aleian plain of Cilicia, near the sea. A fleet of six hundred galleys and numerous transports was collect* ed on the coast for the embarkation of troops, horse as well as foot. A Median general named Datis, and Artaphernes, the son of the satrap of Sardis, and who was also nephew of Darius, were placed in titular joint command of the expedition. The real supreme authority was probably given to Datis alone, from * ^scMnes in Ctes., p. 522, ed. Reiske. Mitford, vol, i., p. 485. JEschlnes is speatlng of Xerxes, tut Mitford is probably riglit in consideilng it as tlie stylqs of ttie Persian kings in their proclainatloiis. In one of tlie inscriptions at Persepolis, Darius terms WmseK " Darius, ttie great king, king of kings, the king of the many-peopled countries, the supporter also of this great world." In another, he styles himself '* the kmg of all inhahited countries." (See 'Asiatic Jom-nal," vol. x., p. 2ST and i92, and Major Kawlinson's Com- ments). BATTLE OF MARATHON. 2S the way in wTiicli the Greek writers speak of him. We know no details of the previous career of this officer ; but there is every reason to believe that his abilities and bravery had been proved by experience, or his Median birth would have prevented his being placed in high command by Darius. He appears to have been the first Mede who was thus trusted by the Persian kings after the overthrow of the conspiracy of the Median magi against the Persians immediately before Darius obtained the throne. Datis received instructions to complete the subjugation of Greece, and especial orders were given him with regard to Eretria and Athens . He was to take these two cities, and he was to lead the inhabitants away captive, and bring them as slaves into the presence of the Great King. Datis embarked his forces in the fleet that awaited them, and coasting along the shores of Asia Minor till he was ofl" Samos, he thence sailed due westward through the Mg^eon Sea for Greece, taking the islands in his way. The Naxians had, ten years be- fore, successfully stood a siege against a Persian armam'ent, but they now were too terrified to ofier any resistance, and fled to the mountain tops, while the enemy burned their town and laid waste their lands. Thence Datis, compelling the Greek island- ers to join him with their ships and men. sailed onward to the coast of Euboea. The little town of Carystus essayed resistance, but was quickly overpowered. He next attacked Eretria. The Athenians sent four thousand men to its aid ; but treachery was at work among the Eretrians ; and the Athenian force received timely warning from one of the leading men of the city to retire to aid in saving their own country, instead of remaining to share in the inevitable destruction of Eretria. Left to themselves, the Eretrians repulsed the assaults of the Persians against their walls for six days ; on the seventh they were betrayed by two of their chiefs, and the Persians occupied the city. The temples were burned in revenge for the firing of Sardis, and the inhabitants were bound, and placed as prisoners in the neighboring islet of ^gilia, to wait there till Datis should bring the Athenians to join them in captivity, when both populations were to be led into Upjjer Asia, there to learn their doom from the lips of King Darius himself. Flushed vsdth success, and with half his mission thus accom- plished, Datis re-embarked his troops, and, crossing the little channel that separates Euboea from the main land, he encamped his troops on the Attic coast at Marathon, drawing up his gal- leys on the shelving beach, as was the custom with the navies of antiquity. The conquered islands behind him served as places of deposit for his provisions and military stores. His po- sition at Marathon seemed to him in every respect advantageous, and the level nature of the ground on which he camped was favorable for the employment of his cavalry, if the Athenians 26 DECIsnnS BATTLES. should venture to engage him. Hippias, who accompaniecl him, and acted as the guide of the invaders, had pointed out. Mara- thon as the best place for a landing, for this very reason. Prob- ably Hippias was also influenced by the recollection that forty- seven years previously, he, with his father Pisistratus, had cross- ed with an army from Eretria to Marathon, and had won an easy victory over their Athenian enemies on that very plain, which had restored them to tyrannic power. The omen seemed cheering. The place was the same ; but Hippias soon learned to his cost how great a change had come over the spirit of the Athenians. But though " the fierce democracy" of Athens was zealous and true against foreign invader and domestic tyrant, a faction existed in Athens, as at Eretria, who were willing to purchase a paiiy triumph over their fellow-citizens at the price of their country's ruin. Communications were opened between these men and the .Persian camp, which would have led to a catastrophe like that of Eretria, if Miltiades had not resolved and persuaded his colleagues to resolve on fighting at all hazards. When Miltiades arrayed his men for action, he staked on the arbitrament of one battle not only the fate of Athens, but that of all Greece; for if Athens had fallen, no other Greek state, except Lacedsemon, would have had the courage to resist; and the LacedaBmonians, though they would probably have died in their ranks to the last man, never could hiTve succ8Bsfully resisted the nctorious Persians and the numerous Greek troops which would have soon marched under the Persian satraps, had they prevailed »ver Athens. Nor was there any power to the westward of Greece that could have offered an effectual opposition to Persia, had she once con- quered Greece, and made that country a basis for future military operations. Eome was at this time in her season of utmost weak- ness. Her dynasty of powerful Etruscan kings had been driven out; and her infant commonwealth w^as reeling under the attacks of the Etruscans and Yolscians from without, and the fierce dis- sensions between the patricians and plebeians within. Etruria, with her Lucumos and serfs, was no match for Persia. Samnium had not grown into the might which she afterward put forth ; nor could the Greek colonies in South Italy and Sicily hope to conquer when their parent states had perished. Carthage had escaped the Persian yoke in the time of Cambyses, through fiie reluctance of the Phenician mariners to seiwe against their kinsmen. But such forbearance coiild not long have been relied on, and the future rival of Eome would have become as submissive a minister of the Persian power as were the Phenician cities themselves. If we turn to Spain; or if we pass the great mountain chain, which, prolonged through the Pyrenees, the Cevennes, the Alps, and the Balkan, divides Northern from . Southern JEurope, we shall find BATTLE OF MABATIIOK 27 nothing at that period but mere savage Finns, Celts, Slaves and Teutons. Had Persia beaten Athens at Marathon, she could have found no obstacle to prevent Darius, the chosen servant of Ormuzd, from advancing his sway over all the known Western races of mankind. The infant energies of Europe would have been trodden out beneath universal conquest, and the history of the world, like tho history of Asia, have become a mere record of the rise and fall of despotic dynasties, of the incursions of barbarous hordes, and of the mental and political prostration of millions beneath the diadem, the tiara and the sword. Great as the preponderance of the Persian over the Athenian power at that crisis seems to have been, it would be unjust to impute wild rashness to the policy of Miltiades, and those who voted with him in the Athenian council of war, or to look on the after-current of events as the mere fortunate result of successful folly. As before has been remarked, Miltiades, while prince of the Chersonese, had seen service in the Persian armies; and he knew by personal observation how many elements of weakness lurked beneath their imposing aspect of strength. He knew that the bulk of their troops no longer consisted of the hardy shepherds and mountaineers from Persia Proper and Kurdistan, who won Cyrus's battles; but that unwilling contingents from conquered nations now filled uj) the Persian muster-rolls, fighting more from compulsion than from any zeal in the cause of their masters. He had also the sagacity and the spirit to appreciate the superiority of the Greek armor and organization over the Asiatic, notwith- standing former reverses. Above all, he felt and worthily trusted the enthusiasm of those whom he led. The Athenians whom he led had proved by their new-born valor in recent wars against the neighboring states that "liberty and equality of civic rights are brave spirit-stirring things, and they who, while under the yoke of a despot, had been no better men of war than any of their neighbors, as soon as they were free, became the foremost men of all; for each felt that in fighting for a free commonwealth, he fought for himself, and whatever he took in hand, he was zealous to do the work thoroughly." So the nearly contemporaneous historian describes the change of spirit that was seen in the Athenians after their tyrants were expelled ;* and Miltiades knew that in leading them against the invading army, where they had Hippias, the foe they most hated, before them, he was bringing into battle no ordinary men, and could cal- * ''AQrjvdioi jj,8v vvv rjv^rjyro- drjXdi de ov nar sv juovov dXXd TtayraxTJ rf Idtiyofjirf w<=> e6Ti xp^iJ.a dTtovdaior, ei xai ylOT/vaJoirvpavrevdjueroi jusv ovda/J.ov rear dcpea'S TtepioiHEo- vTGor 'idav rd TtoXefiia djusivori, dTtaXA.dxOevrs'; de rvpdv- VGov juaxpcp Ttp(SToi tyerpyro' drjXoi mr ravra on narexdjj.- §rQi juer sOEAoHd mov^ oJj dedrtdry epya^di^svov s\evBepQo^4^ 28 DECISIVE BATTLES. culate on no ordinary heroism . As for traitors, he was sufe, that whatever treachery might lurk among some of the higher-born and wealthier Athenians, the rank and fil? whom he commanded were ready to do their utmost in his and their own cause. With regard to future attacks from Asia, he might reasonably hope that one victory would inspirit all Greece to combine against the common foe; and that the latent seeds of revolt and disunion in the Persian empire would soon burst forth and paralyze its energies, so as to leave Greek independence secure. With these hopes and risks, Miltiades, on the afternoon of a September day, 490 b. c, gave the word for the Athenian army to prepare for battle. There were many local associations connected with those mountain heights which were calculated powerfully to excite the spirits of the men, and of which the commanders well knew how to avail themselves in their exhortations to their troops before the encounter. Marathon itself was a region sacred to Hercules. Close to them was the fountain of Macaria, who had in days of yore devoted herself to death for the liberty of her people. The very plain on which they were to fight was the scene of the exploits of their national hero, Theseus : and there, too, as old legends told, the Athenians and the Heraclid^e had routed the in- vader, Eurystheus. These traditions were not mere cloudy myths or idle fictions, but matters of implicit earnest faith to the men of that day, and many a fervent prayer arose from the Athenian ranks to the heroic spirits who, while on earth, had striven and suffered en that very spot, and who were believed to be now heavenly pow- ers, looking down with interest on their still beloved country, and capable of interposing with superhuman aid in its behalf. According to old national custom, the warriors of each tribe were arrayed together ; neighbor thus fighting by the side of neigh- bor, friend by friend, and the spirit of emulation and the con- sciousness of responsibility excited to the very utmost. The War- ruler, Callimachus, had the leading of the right wing ; the Plataeans formed the extreme left ; and Themistocles and Ajistides com- manded the center. The line consisted of the heavy armed spear- men only ; for the Greeks (until the time of Iphicrates) took little or no account of light-armed soldiers in a pitched battle, using them only in skirmishes, or for the pursuit of a defeated enemy. vTGov de avToi £Ka6ro's kcovrw npoBvjiaETo HazEpya^edBai. — Hebod., lit), vl., c. 87. Mr. Grote's comment on this Is one of tlie most eloquent and ptillosopli- ical passages In his admirahle fourth volume. The expression "Idr/y opiy XPVM*^ ^Ttovdatov is like some lines In old Barlwur's poem ol " The Bruce : " " Ah, Fredome is a noble thing ; Fredome maks man to halff lyklng Fredome all solace to men gives. He lives at ease that freely lives." MTTLlJl OP MAHAfnOK. 29 The panoply of the regular infantry consisted of a long spear, of a shield, helmet, breast-plate, greaves, and short sword. Thus equipped, they usually advanced slowly and steadily into action in a uniform phalanx of about eight spears deep. But thft military genius of Miltiades led him to deviate on this occasion from the commonplace tactics of his countrymen. It was essential for him to extend his line so as to cover all the practicable ground, and to secure himself from being outflanked and charged in the rear by the Persian horse. This extension involved the weakening of his line. Instead of a uniform reduction of its strength, he determined on detaching principally from his center, which, from the nature of the ground, would have the best opportunities for rallying, if broken; and on strengthening his wings so as to insure advantage at those points; and he trusted to his own skill and to his soldiers' discipline for the improvement of that advantage into decisive victory. * In this order, and availing himself probably of the inequalities of the ground, so as toj conceal his preparations from the enemy till the last possible moment, Miltiades drew uj) the eleven thou- sand infantry whose spears wer3 to decide this crisis in the strug- gle between the European and the Asiatic worlds. The sacrifices by which the iavor of heaven was sought, and its will consulted, were announced to sho\T propitious omens. The trumpet sounded for action, and, chanting the hymn of battle, the little army bore down upon the host of the foe. Then, too, along the mountain slopes of Marathon must have resounded the mutual exhortation, which .Sischylus, who fought in both battles, tells us was afterwards heard over the waves of Salamis : "On, sons of the Greek! Strike for the freedom of your country ! strike for the freedom of your children and of your wives — for the shrines of your fathers' gods, and for th^ sepulchers of your sires. All — all are now staked upon the strife." Dj TtalSEi ^EXXj^vgovj its ^EXsv9EpovTS 7tarpi6\ eXsvOspovrs ds Haida'if yvraiKa'i, &egov re TtarpcoGov ed?/, QrjKa'-, TE Ttpoyoyaoy, JSvv vrchp itdcvrcov dycov* Instead of advancing at the usual slow pace of the phalanx Miltiades bro ^ght his men on at a run. They were all trained * It Is remarkable that tliere is no other Instance of a Greek general deviating- from the ordinary mode of bringing a phalanx of spearmen into action until the battles of Leuctra and Man tinea, more than a century after Marathon, when Epaminondas introduced the tactics which Alexander the Great in ancient times, and Frederic the Great in modern times, made so famous, of concentrating an overpowering force to hear on some decisive point of the enemy's line, while he kept back, or, in military phrase, refused the weaker part of his own. *' Persai," 4uiS. 36 DECISIVE BATTLED. in the exercises cf the palaestra, so that there was no fear of their ending the charge in breathless exhaustion ; and it was of the deepest importance for him to traverse as rapidly as possible the mile or so of level ground that lay between the mountain foot and the Persian outpost, and so to get his troops into close action before the Asiatic cavalry could mount, form and maneuver against him, or their archers kept him long under fire, and before the enemy's generals could fairly deploy their masses. "When the Persians," says Herodotus, "saw the Athenians running down on them, without horse or bowmen, and scanty in numbers, they thought them a set of madmen rushing upon cer- liiin destruction." They began, however, to prepare to receive L.ieni, and the Eastern chiefs arrayed, as quickly as time and place allowed, the varied races who served in their motly ranks. Moun- taineers from Hyrcania and Afghanistan, wild horsemen from the steppes of Khorassan, and black archers of Ethiopia, swordsmen from the banks of the Indus, and Oxus, the Euphrates, and the Nile, made ready against the enemies of the great King. But no national cause inspired them except tho division of native Per- sians ; and in the large host there was no uniformity of language, creed, race, or military system. Still, among thtm there were many gallant men, under a veteran general ; they were familiarized with victory, and in contemptuous confidence, their infantry which alone had time to form, awaited the Athenian charge. On came the Greeks, with one unwavering line of leveled spears, against which the light targets, the short lances andcimeters of the Orien- tals, offered weak defense. The front rank of the Asiatics must have gone down to a man at the first shock. Still they recoiled not, but strove by individual gallantry and by weight of num- bers to make up for the disadvantages of weapons and tactics, and to bear back the shallow lines of the Europeans. In the center, where the native Persians and the Sacse fought, they suc- ceeded in breaking through the weakened part of the Athenian phalanx ; and the tribes led by Aristides and Themistocles were, after a brave resistance, driven back over the plain, and chased by the Persians up the valley toward the inner country. There the nature of the ground gave the opportunity of rallying and renewing the struggle. , Meanwhile, the Greek wings, where Miltiades had concentrated his chief strength, had routed the Asiatics opposed to them ; and the Athenian and Plattean of- ficers, instead of pursuing the fugitives, kept their troops well in hand, and wheeling round, they formed the two wings to, gether. Miltiades instantly led them against the Persian center, which had hitherto been triumphant, but which now fell back, and prepared to encounter those new and unexpected assailants. Aristmes and Themistocles renewed the tight with their reorgan- ized troops, and the full force of the Greeks was brought into close action with the Persian and S.iciun divisions of the enemy. BATTLE OP MARATHON. Si Datis's veterans strove hard to keep their ground, and evening* ^A'as approaching before the stern encounter was decided. But the Persians, with their slight wicker shields, destitute of body-armor, and never taught by training to keep the even front and act with the regular movement of the Greek infantry, fought at heavy disadvantage with their shorter and feebler weapons against the compact array of well-armed Athenian and Plataean spearmen, all perfectly drilled to perform each necessary evolution in concert, and to preserve a uniform and unwavering line in bat- tle. In personal courage and in bodily activity the Persians wera not inferior to their adversaries. Their spirits were not yet cowed by the recollection of former defeats; and they lavished their lives freely, rather than forfeit the fame which they had won by so many victories. While their rear ranks poured an incessant shower of arrows \ over the heads of their comrades, the foremost Persians kept rushing forward, sometimes singly, sometimes in desperate groups of twelve or ten upon the projecting spears of the Greeks, striving to force a lane into the phalanx, and to bring their cime- ters and daggers into play. J But the Greeks felt their superiority, and though the fatigue of the long-continued action told heavily on their inferior numbers, the sight of the carnage that they dealt upon their assailants nerved them to fight still more fiercely on. At last the previously un vanquished lords of Asia turned their backs and fled, and the Greeks followed, striking them down, to the water's edge, § where the invaders were now hastily launching their galleys, and seeking to embark and fly. Flushed with suc- cess, the Athenians attacked and strove to fire the fleet. But here the Asiatics resisted desperately, and the principal loss sustained by the Greeks was in the assault' on the ships. Here fell the brave War-ruler Callimachus, the general Stesilaus, and other Athenians of note. Seven galleys were fired; but the Persians succeeded in * L4AA,' ojj.GO'^ aTtGodojiisdOa ^vv BeoK itpoi edTtepa—AmsTOvmi Vespae. 1084. f 'EjuaxojuedO^ avroidty 6v/j.ov o^ivrjv 7t8TtGOHOTE<^, Srdi dvr/p jtap avSp, vr bpyrji rr/v x^^'^'^V'^ sdQiaov ^T^Ttode TcSv To^syjudtGov ovk rjv idEivzov ovpavov. ARISTOPH., Vespae, 1082. X See the description in tlie 62d section of tlie nintli book of Herodotus oi the gallantry sliown by the Persian infantry against the Lacedaemonians at Platsea. We have no similar detail of the fight at Marathon, but we know that it was long and obstinately contested (see the 113th section of the sixth book of Herodotus, and the lines from the Vespae already quoted), and tlie spirit of the Persians must have been even higher at Marathon than at Platsea. In both battles it was only the true Persians and the Sacse who showed this valor : the other Asiatics fled like sheep. i The flying Mede, his shaltless broken bow ; The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear ; Mountains above, Earth's, ocean's plain below. Death in the front, Destruction in the rear ! Sucli was the scene.— BykoK's ClUlde Harold. 52 DECISIVE BATTLES. saving the rest. They pushed off from the fatal shore; bnt even here the skill of Datis did not deseii; him, and he sailed round to the western coast of Attica, in hopes to tind the city unprotected, and to gain possession of it from some of the partisans of Hippias. Miltiades, however, saw and counteracted his maneuver. Leaving Aristides, and the troops of his tribe, to guard the spoil and the slain, the Athenian commander led his conquering army by a rapid night-march back across the country to Athens. And when the Persian fleet had doubled the Cape of Sunium and sailed up to the Athenian harbor in the morning, Datis saw arrayed on the heights above the city the troops before whom his men had fled on the preceding evening. All hope of further conquest in Europe for the time was abandoned, and the baflied armada returned to the Asiatic coasts. After the battle had been fought, but while the dead bodies were yet on the ground, the promised re-enforcements from Sparta arrived. Two thousand Laceda?monian spearmen, starting im- mediately after the full moon, had marched the hundred and fifty miles between Athens and Sparta in the wonderfully short time of three days. Though too late to share in the glory of the action, they requested to be allowed to march to the battle-field to behold the Medes. They proceeded thither, gazed on the dead bodies of the invaders, and then, praising the Athenians and what they had done, they returned to Laceda?mon. The number of the Persian dead was 6400 ; of the Athenians, 192. The number of the Plataans who fell is not mentioned; but, as they fought in the part of the army which was not broken, it can not have been large. The apparent disproportion between the losses of the two armies is not surprising when we remember the armor of the Greek spear- men, and the impossibility of heavy slaughter being inflicted by sword or lance on troops so armed, as long as they kept firm in their ranks.* The Athenian slain were buried on the field of battle. This was contrary to the usual custom, according to which the bones of all who fell fighting for their country in each year were deposited in a public sepulcher in the suburb of Athens called the Cerameicus. But it was felt that a distinction ought to be made in the funeral honor's paid to the men of Marathon, even as their merit had been distingiiished over that of all other Athenians. A lofty mound was raised on the plain of Marathon, beneath which the remains of the men of Athens who fell in the battle were deposited. Ten columns were erected on the spot, one for each of the Athenian tribes ; and on the monumental column of each tribe were graven the names of those of its members whose glory it was to have fallen in the * Mitford well refers to Crecy, Poictiers, and Agincoujjt as instances %«t similar disparity oi loss t)etween tlie conquerei-8 and tlie conquered. BATTLE OF MABATEON', 33 great battle of liberation. The antiquarian Pausanias read those names there six hundred years after the time when they were first graven. * The columns have long perished, but the mound still m^rks the spot where the noblest heroes of antiquity, the Mapa- doovoT/axoi, repose. A separate tumulus was raised over the bodies of the slain Pla- tseans, and another over the light-armed slaves who had taken part and had fallen in the battle, f There was also -a separate funeral monument to the general to whose genius the victory was mainly ,due. Miltiades did not live long after his achievement at Mara- thon, but he lived long enough to experience a lamentable reyerf-e of his popularity and success. As soon as the Persians had quitted the western coasts of the Mgsesji, he proposed to an assembly of the Athenian people that they should fit out seventy galleys, with a proportionate force of soldiers and military stores, and place it at his disposal; not telling them whither he meant to lead it, but promising them that if they would equip the force he asked for, and give him discretionary powers, he would lead it to a land where there was gold in abundance to be won with ease. The Greeks of that time believed in the existence of Eastern realms teeming with gold, as firmly as' the Europeans of the sixteenth century believed in El Dorado of the West. The Athenians prob- ably thought that the recent victor of Marathon, and the former officer of Darius, was about to lead them on a secret expedition Against some wealthy and unprotected cities of treasure in the Per- sian dominions. The armament was voted and equipped, and sailed eastward from Attica, no one but Miltiades knowing its dis- tination until the Greek isle of Pares was reached, when his true objv^ct appearv^d. In former years, while connected with the Per- sians as prince of the Chersonese, Miltiades had been involved in a quarrel with vine of the leading men among the Parians, who had i.ujured his credit and caused some slights to be put upon him at the court of the Persian satrap Hydarnes. The feud had ever since rankled in the heart of the Athenian chief, and he now at- tacked Paros for the sake of avenging himself on his ancient enemy. His pretext, as general of the Athenians, was, that the Parians had aided the armament of Datis with a war-galley. The Parians pre- tended to treat about terms of surrender, but used the time which * Pausanias states, Av^lth implicit hellef , that the hattle-field was haunted at night by fiupernatui al heings, and that the noise of comhatants and the snorting of horses were heard to resound on it. The superstition has sur- vived the chaiige of crev'jds, and the shepherds of the neighborhood still be- lieve that specrral warriors contend on the plain at midnight, and they say that they have heard the shouts of the combatants and the neighing of the steeds. See Grote and llxirlwall. t It is probable that the Greek light-armed irregulars were active in the attack on the Persian ships, and it was in this attack that the Greeks suSer- ed their principal loss. D.B.--2 '- U ' DECISIVE BATTLES. they thus gained in repairing the defective parts of the fortifica- tions of their city, and they then set the Athenians at defiance. So far, says Herodotus, the accounts of all the Greeks agree. But the Parians in after years tohi also a "v\ild legend, how a captive priest- ess of a Parian temple of the Deities of the tarth promised Milti- »des to give him the means of captxiring Paros; how, at her bid- ding, the Athenian general went alone at night and forced his way into a holy shrine, near the city gate, but with what purpose it was not known; how a supernatural awe ^ame over him, and in his flight he fell and fractured his leg; how an oracle afterward forbade the Parians to punish the sacrilegious and traitorous priest- ess, "because it was fated that Miltiades should come to an ill end, and she was only the instrument to lead him to evil." Such was the tale that Herodotus heard at Paros. Certain it was that Miltiades either dislocated or broke his leg during an unsuccess- ful siege of the city, and returned home in evil plight with his baf- fled and defeated forces. The indignation of the Athenians was proportionate to the hope and excitement which his promises had raised. Xanthippus, the head of one of the first families in Athens, indicted him before the supreme popular tribunal for the capital oflense of having deceived the people. His guilt was undeniable, and the Athenians passed their verdict accordingly. Put the recollections of Lemnos and Marathon, and the sight of the fallen general, who lay stretched on a couch before them, pleaded successfully in mitigation of pun- ishment, and the sentence was commuted from death to a fine of fifty talents. This was paid by his son, the afterward illustrious Cimon, Miltiades dying, soon after the trial, of the injury which he had received at Paros.* * Tlie commonplace calumnies asrainsttlie Athenians respecting I^riltiades liave l)een well answered by Sir Edward I.j-tton Bulwer in Ills " Rise and Fall of Athens," and Bishop Thirlwall in the second volume of Ms " History of Greece ;" but they have received their most complete refutation from Mr. Grote, inthe fourth volume of his History, p. 4i>o. et. seq., and notes. I quite concur with him that, "looking to the oraetice of the Athenian dica&- tery in criminal cases, that fifty talents w^ts the minor penality actually proposed by the defendoi-s of Miltiades themselves as a substitute for the punishment of death. In those penal cases at Athens where the punish- ment was not fixed beforehand by the terms of the law. if the person ac- cused was found guilty, it was customary to submit to the jurore subse- quently and separately the question as to amount of punishment. First, the accuser named the penalty which he thoucht suitable; next, the ac- cused pei-son was called upon to name an amo\mt of penalty for hhuseU, and the jurors were constrained to take theii- choice between these two. no thii-d gradation of penalty being admissable for consideration. Of course, under such circumstances, it was the inteivst of the accused party to name, even in his own case, some real and serious penaltv, something wliich the jurors might be lilvCly to deem not wholly inadequate to his crime just proved ; lor If he y reposed some penalty onlv trifllnsr. lie drove thon to pre- fer the hea^•ler sentence recommended by hi* c^r<">nejit " 'J he stories Of JiiltiaAies iiaving been ca;st into prition and clica tuere, and of his havin^ 4 BATTLE OF MABATEON. " 35 TTie melancholy end of Miltiades, after his elevation to such a height of power and glory, must often have been recalled to the minds of the ancient Greeks by the sight of one in particular of the memorials of the great battle which he won. This was the re- markable statue (minutely described by Pausanias) which the Athenians, in the time of Pericles, caused to be hewn out of a huge block of marble, which, it was believed, had been provided by Datis, to form a trophy of the anticipated victory of the Persians. Phidias fashioned out of this a colossal image of the goddess, Nemesis, the deity whose peculiar function was to visit the exuber- ant prosperity both of nations and individuals with sudden and awful reverses. This statue was placed in a temple of the goddess at Khamnus, about eight miles from Marathon. Athens itself con- tained numerous memorials of her primary great victory. Panenus, the cousin of Phidias, represented it in fresco on the walls of the painted porch; and, centuries afterward, the figures of Miltiades and Callimachus at the head of the Athenians were conspicuous in the fresco. The tutelary deities were exhibited taking part in the fray. In the back-ground were seen the Phenician galleys, and, nearer to the spectator, the Athenians and Platasans (dis- tinguished by their leather helmets) were chasing routed Asiatics into the marshes and the sea. The battle was sculptured also on the Temple of Victory in the Acropolis, and even now there may be traced on the frieze the figures of the Persian combatants with their lunar shields, their bows and quivers, their curved cimeters, their loose trowsers, and Phrygian tiaras.* These and other memorials of Marathon were the produce of the meridian age of Athenian intellectual splendor, of the age of Phidias and Pericles ; for it was not merely by the generation ■whom the battle liberated from Hippias and the Medes that the transcendent importance of their victory was grateftilly recog- nized. Through the whole epoch of her pros])erity, through the long Olympiads of her decay, through centuries after her fall, Athens looked back on the day of Marathon as the brightest of her national existence. been saved fromi death only by the Interposition of the prytanls of the day, are, I think, rightly rejected hy Mr. Grote as the tictions of after ages. The silence of Herodotus respecting them is decisive. It is true that Plato, In the Gorgias, says that the Athenians passed a vote to throw Miltiades into the Barathrum, and speaks of the interposition of the pr^tanis In his favor ; hut it is to he rememhered that Plato, with all his transcendent genius, was as Niehuhr has termed him, a very Indifferent patriot, who loved to blacken the character of his country's democratical institutions; and if the tact was not that the prytanis, at the trial of Miltiades. opposed the vote of capital punishment, and spoke in favor of the milder sentence, Plato (in a passage written to show the misfortunes that befell Athenian states- men) would readily exaggerate this fact Into the story that appears In hla text. * Wordswor^'h's " Greece," p. 115. S6 DEGISIVE BATTLES. By a natural blending of patriotic pride with grateful piety, the very spirits of the Athenians who fell at Marathon were deified by their countrymen. The inhabitants of the district of Mara- thon paid religious rites to them ; and orators solemnly invoked them in their most impassioned adjurations before the assembled men of Athens. "Nothing was omitted that could keep alive the remembrance of a deed which had first taught the Athenian people to know its own strength, by measuring it with the power which had subdued the greater part of the known world. The consciousness thus awakened fixed its character, its station, and its destiny ; it was the spring of its later great actions and ambitious enterprises.* It was not indeed by one defeat, however signal, that the pride of Persia could be broken, and her dreams of universal empire dispelled. Ten years afterward she renewed her attempts upon Europe upon a grander scale of enterprise, and was repulsed by Greece with greater and reiterated loss. Larger forces and heav- ier slaughter than had been seen at Marathon signalized the con- flicts of Greeks and Persians t^ Artemisium, Salamis, Platsea, and the Earymedon. But, mighty and momentous as these battles were, they ranked not with Marathon in importance. They orig- inated no new impulse. They turned back no current of fate. They were merely confirmatory of the already existing bias which Marathon had created . The day of Marathon is the critical epoch in the history of the two nations. It broke forever the spell of Persian invincibility, which had previously paralyzed men's minds. It generated among the Greeks the spirit which beat back Xerxes, and afterward led onXenephon, Agorilaus, and Alexander, in terrible retaliation through their Asiatic campaigns. It se- cured for mankind the intellectual treasures of Athens, the growth of free institutions, the liberal enlightenment of the Western world, and the gradual ascendency for many ages of the great principle of Europeau civilization. EXPLANATOKT KeMAKKS ON SOME OF THE CeECTJMSTANCES OP THE BaitttjE oe Marathon. Nothing is said by Herodotus of the Persian cavalry taking any part in the battle, although he mentions that Hippias recom- mended the Persians to land at Marathon, because the plan was favorable for cavaljs'y revolutions. In the life of Miltiades, which is usually cited as the production of Cornelius Nepos, but which I believe to be of no authority whetever, it is said that Miltiades * Tliiiiwall. BATTLE OF IIABATMOM, 37 protected ms flanks from the enemy's horse by an abatis of felled trees. While he was on the high ground he would not have re- quired this defense, and it is not likely that the Persians would have allowed him to erect it on the plain. Bishop Thirlwall calls our attention to a passage in Suidas, where the proverb Xwpii iititeli is said to have originated from some Ionian Greeks who were serving compulsorily in the army of Datis, contriving to inform Miltiades that the Persian cavalry had gone away, whereupon Miltiades immediately joined battle and gained the victory. There may probably be a gleam oi truth in this legend. If Datis's cavalry was numerous, as the abundant pastures of Euboea were close at hand, the Persian gen^ eral, when he thought, from the inaction of his enemy, that they did not mean to come down from the heights and give battle, might naturally send the larger ps,rt of his horse back across the channel to the neighborhood of Eretria, where he had already left a detachment, and where his military stores must have been de- posited. The knowledge of such a movement would of course confirm Miltiades in his resolution to bring on a speedy en- gagement. ^ But, in truth, whatever amount of cavalry we suppose Datis to have had with him on the day of Marathon, their inaction in the battle is intelligible, if we believe the attack of the Athenian spearmen to have been as sudden as it was rapid. The Persian horse-soldier, on an alarm being given, had to take the chackles off his horse, to strap the saddle on, and bridle him, besides equip- ping himself (see Xenoph., " Anab.," lib. iii. c. 4.); and when each individual horseman was ready, the line had to be formed ; and the time it takes to form the Oriental cavalry in line for a charge has, in all ages, been observed by Europeans. The wet state of the marshes at each end of the plain, in the time of the year when the battle was fought, has been adverted to by Mr. Wordsworth, and this would hinder the Persian general from arranging and employing his horsemen on his extreme wings, while it also enabled the Greeks, as they came forward, to oc- cupy the whole breadth of the practicable ground with an un- broken line of leveled spears, against which, if any Persian horse advanced, they would be driven back in confusion upon their own foot. Even numerous and fully-arrayed bodies of cavalry have been repeatedly broken, both in ancient and modern warfare, by reso- lute charges of infantry. For instance, it was by an attack of some picked cohorts that Caesar routed the Pompeian cavalry (which had previously defeated his own), and won the battle of Pharsalia. I havG represented the battle of Marathon as beginning in the afternoon and ending toward evening. If it had lasted all day, Herodotus would have probably mentioned that fact. That it 38 DECISIVE BATTLES. ended toward evening is, I think, proved by the line from the " Vespge," which I have already quoted, and to which my attention was called by Sir Edward Bulwer's account of the battle. I think that the succeeding lines in Aristophanes, also already quoted, justify the description which I have given of the rear ranks of the Persians keeping up a fire of arrows over the heads of their com- rades, as the Normans did at Hastings. Synopsis of Events between the Battle of Maeathon, b. c. 490. AND the Defeat of the Athenians at Sykacuse, B. C 413. B, C. 490 to 487. All Asia filled with the preparations made by King Darius for a new expedition against Greece. Themistocles persuades the Athenians to leave off dividing the proceeds of their silver mines among themselves, and to employ the money in strengthening their navy . 487. Egypt revolts from the Persians, and Relays the expedition against Greece. 485. Darius dies, and Xerxes his son becomes King of Persia in his stead. 481 The Persians recover Egypt. 480. Xerxes invades Greece. Indecisive actions between the Persian and Greek fleets at Artemisium. Destruction of the three hundred Spartans at Thermopylae. The Athenians abandon Attica and go on shipboard. Great naval victory of the Greeks at Salamis. Xerxes returns to Asia, leaving a chosen army under Mardonius to carry on the war against the Greeks. 478. Mardonius and his army destroyed by the Greeks at Pla- tsea. The Greeks land in Asia Minor, and defeat a Persian force at Mycale. In this and the following years the Persians lose all their conquests in Europe, and many on the coast of Asia. 477. Many of the Greek maritime states take Athens as their leader instead of Sparta. 466. Victories of Cimon over the Persians at the Eurymedon. 464. Bevolt of the Helots against Sparta. Third Messenian ■war. 460. Egypt again revolts against Persia. The Athenians send a powerful armament to aid the Egyptians, which, after gaining some successes, is destroyed; and Egypt submits. This war lasted six years. 457. Wars in Greece between the Athenian and several Pelopon- nesian states. Immense exertions of Athens at this time, " There is an original inscription still preserved in the Louvre which at- tests the energies of Athens at this crisis, when Athens, like Eng- land in modern wars, at once sought conquests abroad and re- pelled enemies at home. At the period we now advert to (b. q SYNOPSIS OF INTEUVEmNQ EVENTS. 39 ^57), an Athenian armament of two Imndred galleys was engaged in a bold though nnsuccessful expedition against Egypt. The Athenian crews had landed, had won' a battle; they had then re- embarked and sailed up the Nile, and were busily besieging the Persian garrison at Memphis. As the complement of a trireme galley was at least two hundred men, we can not estimate the forces then employed by Athens against Egypt at less than forty thousand men. At the same time, she kept squadrons on the coasts of Phenicia and Cyprus, and yet maintained a home fleet that enabled her to defeat her Peloponnesian enemies at Cecry- phalse and ^gina, capturing in the last engagement seventy gal- leys. This last fact may give us some idea of the strength of the Athenian home fleet that gained the victory, and by adopting tbg same ratio of multiplying whatever number of galleys we suppos*:' to have been employed by two hundred so as to gain the aggregate number of the crews, we may form some estimate of the foroe^ which this little Greek state then kept on foot. Between sixty and seventy thousand men must have served in her fieets during that year. Her tenacity of purpose was equal to her boldness ol enterprise. Sooner than yield or withdraw froir*i a^y of their ex- peditions, the Athenians at this very time, wken Corinth sent an army to attack their garrison at Megara did &ot recall a single crew or a single soldier from Mgino. or from alvoad; but the lads and old men, who had been left to guard the ity, fought and won a battle against these new assailants. Tje inscription which we have referred to is graven on a votive tal let to the memory of the dead, erected in that year by the Erechthean tribe, one of the ten into which the Athenians were divided. It shows, as ThirlwalJ has remarked, 'that the Athenians were conscious ol the greatness of their own effort;' and in it this little civic community of the an. cient world still 'records to us with eoiphatic simplicity, that its slain fell in Cyprus, in Egypt, in Phenicia, at Halise. in Mgrna., inMegd^xd., in the same year.'"* 445. A thirty years' truce concluded between Athens and Liac- edaemon. , «. ^t ± 440. The Samians endeavor to throw off the supremacy of Athens. Samos completely reduced to subjection. Pericles is now sole director of the Athenian councils. ^ 431. Commencement of the great Peloponnesian war, m which Sparta, at the head of nearly all the Peloponnesian states, and aided by the Boeotians and some of the other Greeks beyond the Isthmus, endeavors to reduce the power of Athens, and to restore independence to the Greek maritime states who were the subject allies of Athens. At the commencement of the war the Pelopon- nesian armies repeatedly invade and ravage Attica, but Athens* * Paeans o£ tlie Athenian Navy. 40 DECISIVE BATTLES. herself is impregnable, and lier fleets secure her the dominion of the sea. 430. Athens visited by a pestilence, which sweeps off large num- bers of her population. 425. The Athenians gain great advantages over the Spartans at Sphacteria, and by occupying Cythera: but they suffer a severe defeat in Boeotia, and the Spartan general, Brasidas, leads an ex- pedition to the Thracian coasts, and conquers many of the most valuable Athenian possessions in those regions. 421. Nominal truce for thirty years between Athens and Sparta, but hostilities continue on the Thracian coast and in other quarters. 415. The Athenians send an expedition to conquer Sicily. CHAPTER n. DEFEAT OP THE ATHENIANS AT STBACUSE, B. C. 413, The Eomans knew not, and could not know, how deeply tlie greatness of their own posterity, and the fate of the whole Western world, were involved in the destruction of the fleet of Athens in the harhor of Syracuse. Had that great expedition proved victorious, the energies of Greece during the next eventful century would have found their field in the West no less than in the East; Greece, and not Rome, might have conquered Carthage; Greek Instead of Latin might have heen at this day the principal element of the language of Spain, of France, and of Italy ; and the laws of Athens, rather than of Eome, might be the foundation of the law of the civilized world.— Abnold. Few cities have undergone more memorable sieges during an- cient and media3val times than has the city of Syracuse. Athen- ian, Carthaginian, Roman, Vandal, Byzantine, Saracen, and Norman, have in turns beleagured her walls; and the resistance , which she successfully opposed to some of her early assailants was of the deepest importance, not only to the fortunes of the gen- erations then in being, but to all the subsequent current of human events. To adopt the eloquent expressions of Arnold respecting the check which she gave to the Carthaginian arms, "Syracuse was a breakwater which God's providence raised up to protect the yet immature strength of Rome." And her triumphant repulse of the great Athenian expedition against her was of even more wide-spread and enduring importance. It forms a decisive epoch in the strife for universal empire, in which all the great states of antiquity successively engaged and failed. The present city of Syracuse is a place of little or no military strength, as the fire of artillery from the neighboring heights would almost completely command it. But in ancient warfare, its posi' DEFEAT OF THE ATHEKIAKS, 4l tion, and the care bestowed on its -walls, rendered it formidably strong against the means of offense wliich then were employed by besieging armies. The ancient city, in its most prosperous times, was chiefly built on the knob of land which projects into the sea on the east- em coast of Sicily, between two bays; one of which, to the north, was called the Bay of Thapsus, while the southern one formed the great harbor of the city of Syracuse itself. A small island, or pe- ninsula (for such it soon was rendered), lies at the south-eastern extremity of this knob of land, stretching almost entirely across the mouth of the great harbor, and rendering it nearly land- locked. This island comprised the original settlement of the first Greek colonists from Corinth, who founded Syracuse two thousand five hundred years ago; and the modern city has shrunk again into these primary limits. But, in the fifth century before our era, the growing wealth and population of the Syracusans had led them to occupy and include within their city walls portion after portion of the main land lying next to the little isle, so that at the time of the Athenian expedition the seaward part of the land be- tween the two bays already spoken of was built over, and fortified from bay to bay, and constituted the larger part of Syracuse. The landward wall, therefore, of this district of the city, trav- ersed this knob of land, which continues to slope upward from the sea, and which, to the west of the old ^fortifications ( that is toward the interior of Sicily), rises rapidly for a mile or two, but diminishes in width, and finally terminates in a long narrow ridge, between which and Mount Hybla a succession ot chasms and uneven low ground extends. On each flank of this ridge the descent is steep and precipitous from its summits to the stripe of level land that lie immediately below it, both to the south- west and northwest. The usual mode of assailing fortified towns in the time of the "Peloponnesian war was to build a double wall round them, suf- ficiently strong to check any sally of the garrison from within, or any attack of a relieving force from without. The interval with- in the two walls of the circumvallation was roofed over, and formed^ barracks, in which the besiegers posted themselves, and awaited the effects of want or treachery among the besieged in producing a surrender ; and, in every Greek city of those days, as in every Italian republic of the Middle Ages, the rage of do- mestic sedition between aristocrats and democrats ran high. Kancorous refugees swarmed in the camp of every invading en- emy ; and every blockaded city was sure to contain within its wails a body of intriguing malcontents, who were eager to pur- chase a party triumph at the expense of a national disaster. Famine and faction were the allies on whom besiegers relied. The generals of that time trusted to the operation of these sure ■y)nfederates as soon as they could establish a complete blockade. ^2 DECISIVE BATTLES. They rarely T'Or.t''d»?'l on the attempt to storm any fortified post, for the military engines of antiquity were feeble in breaching masonry before the improvements which the first Dionysins ef- fected in the mechanics of destruction ; and the lives of spear- men the boldest and most high-trained would, of course, have been idly spent in charges against unshattered walls. A city built close to the sea, like Syracupe,was impregnable, save by the combined operations of a superior hostile fleet and a superior hostile army ; and Syracuse, from her size, her popu- lation, and her military and naval resources, not unnaturally thought herself secure from finding in another Greek city a foe' capable of sending a sufficient armament to menace her with capture and subjection. But in the spring of 414 b. c, the Athen- ian navy was mistress of her harbor and the adjacent seas ; an Athenian army had defeated her troops, and cooped them with- in the town ; and from bay to bay a blockading wall was being rapidly carried across the strips of level ground and the high ridge outside the city (then termed Epipolae), which, if completed, would have cut the Syracusans off from all succor from the inter- ior of Sicily, and have left them at the mercy of the Athenian generals. The besiegers' works were, indeed, unfinished ; but every day the unfortified interval in their lines grew narrower, and with it diminished all apparent hope of safety for the be- leagured town. Athens was now staking the flower of her forces, and the ac- cumulated fruits of seventy years of glory, on one bold throw for the dominion of the Western world. As Napoleon from Mount Coeur de Lion pointed to St. Jean d'Acre, and told his stafi" that the capture of that town would decide his destiny and would ■change the face of the world, so the Athenian oificers, from the heights of Epipolee, must have looked on Syracuse, and felt that (s-ith its fall all the known powers of the earth would fall be- neath them. They must have felt, also, that Athens, if repulsed there, must pause forever from her career of conquest, and sink from an imperial republic into a ruined and subservient commu- nity. At Marathon, the first in date of the great battles of the world, we beheld Athens struggling for self-preservation against the in- vading armies of the East. At Syracuse she appears as the ambitious and oppressive invader of others. In her, as in other republics of old and of modern times, the same energy that had inspired the most heroic efi'orts in defense of the national indepen- dence, soon learned to employ itself in daring and unscrupulous schemes of self-aggrandizement at the expense of neighboring nations. In the interval between the Persian and the Pelponnesian wars she had rapidly grown into a conquering and dominant state, the chief of a thousand tributary cities, and the mistress of the largest and best-manned navy that the Mediterranean had yet DEFEAT OF TEE ATEENIANa. 43 beheld. The occupations of her territory by Xerxes ,d I^rar- donius, in the second Persian war, had forced her whole popula- tion to become mariners; and the glorious results of that struggle confirmed them in their zeal for their country's service at sea. The voluntary suffrage of the Greek cities of the coasts and islands of the ^gffian first placed Athens at the head of the confederation formed for the further prosecution of the war against Persia. But this titular ascendency was soon converted by her into practical and atbitrary dominion. She protected them from piracy and the Persian power, which soon fell into decrepitude and decay, but she exacted in return implicit obedience to herself. She claimed and enforced a prerogative of tuning them at her dis- cretion, and proudly refused to be accountable for her mode of expending their supplies. Kemonstrance against her assessments was treated as factious disloyalty, and refusal to pay was promptly punished as revolt. Permitting and encouraging her subject allies to furnish all their contingents in money, instead of part consisting of ships and mf-n, the sovereign republic gained the double object of training her own citizens by constant and well- paid service in her fleets, and of seeing her confederates lose their skill and discipline by inaction, and become more and more pas- sive and powerless under her yoke. Their towns were generally dismantled, while the imperial city herself was fortified with the greatest care and sumptuousness; the accumulated revenues from her tributaries serving to strengthen and adorn to the utmost her havens, her docks, her arsenals, her theaters and her shrines, and to array her in that pientitude of architectural magnificence, the ruins of which still attest the intellectual grandeur of the age and people which produced a Pericles to plan and a Phidias to execute. All republics that acquire supremacy over other nations rule them selfishly and oppressively. There is no exception to this in I either ancient or modern times. Cartb-^^ge, Eome, Venice, Genoa, Florence, Pisa, Holland, and Kepubliwan France, all tyrannized over every province and subject state where they gained authority. But none of them openly avowed their system of doing so upon principle with the candor which the Athenian republicans dis- played when any remonstrance was made against the severe ex- actions which 'they imposed upon their vassal allies. They avowed that their empire was a tyranny, and frankly stated that thtey solely trusted to force and terror to uphold it. They appealed to what they called " the eternal law of nature, that the weak should be coerced by the strong."* Sometimes they stated, and not with- out some truth, that the unjust hatred of Sparta against themselves forced them to be unjust to others in self-defense. To be safe, they must be powerful; and to be powerful,, they must plunder * ''Aei KaQsdrc^TO's roi nddao vjto dwaTGoreoov KavsipyedBau Thuc, 1., 11, I I ^ M lkcisive battles. and coerce their neiglibors. Tliey never dreamed of communicat- ing any franchise, or share in office, to their dependents, biit jealousy monopolized every post of command, and all political and judicial power; exposing themselves to every risk with un- flinching gallantrj'; embarking readily in every ambitious scheme; and never suffering difficulty or disaster to shake their tenacity of purpose: in the hope of acquiring unbounded empire for their country, and the means of maintaining each of the thirty thousand citizens who made up the sovereign republic, in exclusive devo- tion to military occupations, and to those brilliant sciences and arts in which Athens already had reached the meridian of intel- lectual splendor. Her great political dramatist speaks of the Athenian empire as comprehending a thousand states. The language of the stage must not be taken too literally; but the number of the dependen- cies of Athens, at the time when the Peloponnesian confederacy attacked her, was undoubtedly very great. With a few trifling exceptions, all the islands of the .ffigaean, and all the Greek cities, which in that age fringed the coasts of Asia Minor, the Hellespont and Thrace, paid tribute to Athens, and implicitly obej^ed her orders. The .Slgaean Sea was an Attic lake. Westward of Greece, her influence, though strong, was not equally predominant. She had colonies and allies among the wealthy and populous Greek settlements in Sicily and South Italy, but she had no organized system of confederates in those regions; and her gallej'S brought her no tribute from the Western seas. The extension of her em- pire over Sicily was the favorite project of her ambitious orators and generals. While her great statesman, Pericles, lived, his com- mandiiig genius kept his countrymen under control, and forbade them to risk the fortunes of Athens in distant enterprises, while they had unsubdu 3d and powerful enemies at their own doors. He taught Athens this maxim; but he also taught her to know and to use her own strength, and when Pericles had departed, the bold spirit which he had fostered overleaped the salutary limits which he had prescribed. When her bitterest enemies, the Corinthians, succeeded, in 431 b. c, in inducing Sparta to attack her, and a confederacy was formed of five-sixths of the continental Greeks, all animated by anxipus jealousy and bitter hatred of Athens; when armies far superior in numbers and equipment to those which had marched against the Persians were poured into the Athenian territory, and laid it waste to the ctty walls, the general opinion was that Athens would be reduced, in two or three j^ears at the farthest, to submit to the requisitions of her invaders. But her strong fortifications, by which she was girt and linked to her principal haven, gave her, in those ages, almost all the advantages of an insular position. Pericles.had made her trust to her empire of the seas. Every Athenian in those days was a practiced sea- man. A state, indeed, whose members, of an age fit for service, DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. 45 at no time exceeded thirty thousand, and whose territorial extent did not equal half Sussex, could only have acquired such a naval dominion as Athens once held, by devoting, and zealously train- ing, all its sons to service in its fleets. In order to man the numer- ous galleys which she sent out, she necessarily employed large numbers of hired mariners and slaves at the oar; but the staple ov her crews was Athenian, and all posts of command were held by native citizens. It was by remindiii-g them of ^his, of their long practice in seamanship, and the certain superiority which their' discipline gave them over the enemy's marine, that their great minister mainly encouraged them to resist the combined power of Lacedgemon and her allies. He taught them that Athens might thus reap the fruit of her ztalous devotion to maritime affairs ever sin<'.e tiie invasion of the Medes; " she had not, indeed, per- fecterl herself; but the reward of her superior training was the rule of the sea — a mighty dominion, for it gave her the rule of much fair land beyond its waves, safe from the idle ravages with which the Lacedaemonians might harass Attica, but never could subdue Athens.''* Athens accepted the war with which her enemies threatened her rather than descend from her pride of place; and though' the aw- ful visitation of the Plague came upon her, and swept away more of her citizens than the Dorian spear laid low, she held her own gallantly against her enemies. If the Peloponnesian armies in ir- resistible strength wasted every spring, her cornlands, her vine- yards, and her olive groves with fire and sword, she retaliated on their coasts with her fleets; which, if resisted, were only resisted to display the pre-eminent skill and bravery of her seamen. Some of her subject allies revolted, but the revolts were in general stern- ly and promptly quelled. The genius of one enemy had indeed inflicted blows on her power in Thrace which she w as unable to remedy ; but he fell in battle in the tenth year of the war, and with the loss of Brasidas the Lacedaemonians seemed to have lost all energy and judgment. Both sides at length grew weary of the war, and in 421 a truce for fifty years was concluded, which, though ill kept, and though many of the confederates of Sparta refused to recognize it, and hostilities still continued in many parts of Greece, protected the Athenian territory from the ravages of ene- mies, and enabled Athens to accumulate large sums out of the pro- ceeds of her annual revenues. So also, as a few years passed by, the havoc which the pestilence and the sword had made in her population was repaired; and in 415 b. c. Athens was full of bold and restless spirits, who longed for some field of distant enterprise wherein they might signalize themselves and aggrandize the state, and who looked on the alarm of Spartan hostility as a mere old woman's tale. When Sparta had wasted their territory she had * Thuc^ lib. i., sec. 144. 46 DECISIVE BATTLES, done her Tporst: and the fact of its always being in her power to do so seemed a strong reason for seeking to increase the trans-ma- rine dominion of Athens. The "SV est was now the quarter toward which the thoughts of every aspiring Athenian were directed. From the very beginning of the war Athens had kept up an interest in Sicily, and her squad- ron had, from time to time, appeared on its coasts and taken part in the dissensions in which the Sicilian Greeks were universally engaged one against each other. There were plausible grounds for a direct quarrel, and an open attack by the Athenians upon Syracuse. "NVith the capture of Syraciisse, all Sicily, it was hoped, would be secured. Carthage and Italy were next to be attacked. "With large levies of Iberian mercenaries she then meant to overvshelm her Peloponnesian enemies. The Persian monarchy lay in hope- less imbecility, inviting Greek invasion ; nor did the known world contain the poAver that seemed capable of checking the growing might of Athens, if Syracuse once could be hers. The national historian of Eome has left us an episode of his great work, a disquisition on the probable efiects that would have followed if Alexander the Great had invaded Italy. Posterity has generally regarded that disquisition as proving Livj''s patriotism more strongly than his impartiality or acuteness. Yet, right or wrong, the speculations of the Eoman writer were directed to the considerations of a very remote possibility. To whatever age Alexander's life might have been prolonged, the East would have furnished full occupation for his martial ambition, as well as for those schemes of commercial grandeur and imperial amalgama- tion of nations in which the truly great qualities of his mind loved to display themselves. With his death the dismemberment of his empire among his generals was certain, even as the dismem- berment of Napoleon s empire among his marshals would cer- tainly have ensued if he had been cut off in the zenith of his power. Eome, also, was far weaker when the Athenians were in Sicily than she was a century afterwards in Alexander's time. There can be little doubt but that Kome would have been blotted out from the independent powers of the "SVest, had she been at;- tacked at the end of the fifth centiiry b.c, by an Athenian army, largely aided by Spanish mercenaries, and tliished with triumphs over Sicily and Africa, instead of the collision between her and Greece having been deferred until the latter had sunk into decrepitude, and the Eoman Mais had grown into full vigor. The armament which the Athenians equipped against Syracuse was in every way worthy of the state which formed such projects of universal empire, and it has been truly termed "the noblest that ever yet had been set forth by a free and civilized common- wealth.''* The fleet consisted of one hundred and thirty-four * Arnold's ' " History of Rcane.'* DEFEAT OF THE ATEENZAWSL 47 war-galleys, with a multitude of store-ships. A powerful force of the best heavy-armed infantry that Athens and her allies could furnish was sent on board it, together with a smaller number oi slingers and bowmen. The quality of the forces was even more remarkable than the number. The zeal of individuals vied with that of the republic in giving every galley the best possible crew, and every troop the most perfect accouterments . And with pri- vate as well as public wealth eagerly lavished on all that could give splendor as well as efficiency to the expedition, the fated fleet began its voyage for the Sicilian shores in the summer of 415. The Syracusans themselves, at the time of the Peloponnesian war, were a bold and turbulent democracy, tyrannizing over the weaker Greek cities in Sicily, and trying to gam in that island the same arbitrary supremacy which ,xth as maintained aiong the eastern coast of the Mediterranean. In numbers and in spirit they were fully equal to the Athenians, but far inferior to them, in military and naval discipline. When the probability of an Athenian invasion was first publicly discussed at Syracuse, and efforts were made by some of the wiser citizens to improve the state of the national defenses, and prepare for the impending danger, the rumors of coming war and the proposal for preparation were received by the mass of the Syracusans with scornful in- credulity. The speech of one of their popular orators is pre- served to us in Thucydides,* and many of its topics might, by a slight alteration of names and details, serve admirably for the party among ourselves at present, which opposes the augmenta- tion of our forces, and derides the idea of our being in any peril from the sudden attack of a French expedition. The Syracusan orator told his countrymen to dismiss with scorn the visionary terrors which a set of designing men among themselves strove to excite, in order to get power and influence thrown into their own hands. He told them that Athens knew her own interest too well to think of wantonly provoking their hostility : "Even if their enemies were to come," said he, '' so distant from their resources, and opposed to such a power as ours, their destruction would he^ easy and inevitable. Their ships will have enough to do to get to our island at all, and to carry such stores of all sorts as will be needed. They cannot therefore carry, besides, an army large enough to cope with^ such a population as ours. They will have no fortified place from which to commence their operations, but must rest them on no better base than a set of wretched tents, and such means as the necessities of the momeni will allow them. But, in truth, 1 do not believe that they would even be able to effect a disembarkation. Let us, therefore, set at naught these reports as altogether of home manufacture; and be sure if any enemy * Lib. vl., sec. 36, ei sea., Arnold's edition, jl nave almost literally trail' scribed some of tlie -narglnal epitomes oj: the original speecli. 48 DECISIVE BATTLES. does come, the state wiU know hoio to defend itself in a manner worthy of the national honor." Such assertions pleased the Syracusan assembly, and their counterparts find favor now among some portion of the English public. But the invaders of Syracuse came; made good their landing in Sicily; and, if they had promptly attacked the city itself, instead of wasting nearly a year in desultory operations in other parts of Sicily, the Syracusans must have paid the penalty of their self-sufiBcient carelessness in submission to the Athenian yoke. But, of the three generals who led the Athenian expedition, two only were men of ability, and one was most weak and incom- petent. Fortunately for Syracuse, Alcibiades, the most skilful of the three, was soon deposed from his command by a factious and fanatic vote of his fellow-cojijitrymen, and the other competent one, Lamachus, fell early ip. a^skirmish; while, more fortunately still for her, the feeble and vacillating Nicias remained unrecalled and unhurt, to assume the undivided leadership of the Athenian army and fleet, and to mar, by alternate over-caution and over- carelessness, every chance of success which the early part of the operations offered. Still, even under him, the Athenians nearly won the town. They defeated the raw levies of the Syracusans, cooped them within the walls, and, as before mentioned, almost effected a continuous fortification from bay to bay over Epipol^e, the completion of which would certainly have been followed by a capitulation. Alcibiades, the most complete example ef genius without prin. ciple that history produces, the Bolingbroke of antiquity, but with high military talents superadded to diplomatic and oratorical powers, on being summoned home from his command in Sicily to take his trial before the Athenian tribunal, had escaped to Sparta, and had exerted himself there with all the selfish rancor of a rene- gade to renew the war with Athens, and to send instant assistance to Syracuse. When we read his words in the pages of Thucydides (who was himself an exile from Athens at this period, and may probably have been at Sparta, and heard Alcibiades speak), we are at a loss whether most to admire or abhor his subtle and traitorous counsels. After an artful exordium, in which he tried to disarm the suspic- ions which he felt must be entertained of him and to point out to the S]iartans how completely his interests and theirs were identi- fied, through hatred of the Athenian democracy, he thus jjro- ceeded: " Hear me, at any rate, on the matters which require your grave attention, and which T, from the personal knowledge that I have of them, can and ought to bring before you. We Athenians sailed to Sicily with the design of subduingj. first the Greek cities there, and next those in Italy. Then we int^i^ded to make an attempt DEFEAT OF TEE ATHENIANS. 49 on the dominions of Cartilage, and on Carthage itself.* If all these projects succeeded (nor did we limit ourselves to them in these quarters), we intended to increase our fleet with the inex- haustible supplies of ship timber which Italy affords, to put in re- quisition the whole military force of the conquered Greek states, and also to hire large armies of the barbarians, of the Iberiansf and others in these regions, who are allowed to make the best pos- sible soldiers. Then, when we had done all this, we intended to assail Peloponnesus with our collected force. Our fleets would blockade you by sea, and desolate your coasts, our armies would be landed at different points and assail your cities. Some of these we expected to storm, | and others we meant to take by sur- rounding them with fortified lines. We thought that it would thus be an easy matter thoroughly to war you down; and then we should become the masters of theJ^V^tsGreek race. As for ex- pense, we reckoned that each cOnqueJ-ed state would give us supplies of money and provisions sufficient to pay for its own conquest, and furnish the means for the conquest of its neighbors. " Such are the designs of the present Athenian expedition to Sicily, and you have heard them from the lips of the man who, of all men living, is most accurately acquainted with them. The other Athenian generals, who remain with the expedition, will endeavor to carry out these plans. And be sure that without your speedy interference they will all be accomplished. The Sicilian Greeks are deficient in military training; but still, if they couJd at once be brought to combine in an organized resistance to Athens, they might even now be saved. But as for the Syracusans resist- ing Athens by themselves, they have already, with the whole strength of their population, fought a battle and been beaten; they cannot face the Athenians at sea; and it is quite impossible for them to hold out against the force of their invaders. And if this city falls into the hands of the Athenians, all Sicily is theirs, and presently Italy also; and the danger, which I warned you of from that quarter, will soon fall upon yourselves. You must, therefore, in Sicily, fight for the safety of Peloponnesus. Send some galleys thither instantly. Put men on board who can work their own way over, and who, as soon as they land, can do duty as * Arnold, In his notes on this passage, well reminds the reader that Agathocles, with a Greek force far inferior to that of the Athenians at this period, did, some years afterward, very nearly conquer Carthage. t It will be remembered that Spanish Infantry were the staple of the Carthaginian armies. Doubtless Alcibiades and other leading Athenians had made themselves acquainted with the Carthaginian system of carrying on war, and meant to adopt it. With the marvelous powers which Alcibi- ades possessed of ingratiating himself with the men of every class and every nation, and his high military genius, he would have been as fornudable a chief of an army of condottieri as Hainlbal afterward was. t Alcibiades here alluded to riarta itself, which was unfortified. His Spartan hearers must have glanced round them at these words with mixed alarm aad indignation. 60 DECISIVE BATTLES. regular troops. But, above all, let one of yourselves, let a man of Sparta go over to take the chief coiuuiand, to bring into order and effective discipline tiie forces that are iu Syracuse, and urge those who at present hang back to come forward "and aid tue Syraciisans. The presence of a Spartan general fit this crisis will do more to save the city than a whole army."* The renegade then proceeded to urge on them the necessity of encouraging their friends in Sicily, by showing that they themselves were in earnest in hostility to Athens, He exhorted them not only to march their armies into Attica again, but to take up a permanent fortitied position in the country; uut he gave them in detail information of all that the Athenians most dreaded, and how his country might receive the most distressing and enduring injury at their hands. The Spartans resolved to act on his advice, and appointed Gylippus to the Sicilian command. Gylippus was a man who, to the national bravery and military skill of a Spartan, iinited political sagacity that was worthy of his great fellow-countryman Brasidas; but his merits were debased by mean and sordid vices; and his is one of the cases in which history has been austerely just, and where little or no lame has been accorded to the success- ful but venal soldier. But for the purpose for which he was required in Sicily, an abler man could not have been found in Laceda?mon. His country'' gave him neither men nor money, but she ga"s"e him her authority ; and the influence of her name and of his own talents was speedily seen in the zeal with which the Corinthians and other Peloponnesian Greeks began to equip a sqaudron to act under him for the rescue of Sicily. As soon as four galleys were ready, he hurried over with them to the southern coast of Italy, and there, though he received such evil tidings of the state of Syracuse that he abandoned all hope of saving that city, he determined to remain on the coast, and do what he could in preserving the Italian cities from tht^ Athenians. So nearly, indeed, had Nicias completed his beleaguering lines, and so utterly desperate had the state of Syracuse seemingly be- come, that an assembly of the Syracusans was actually convened, and they were discussing the terms on which they should offer to capitulate, when a galley was seen dashing into the great harbor, and making her way toward the town with all the speed which her rowers co-uld supply. From her shunning the part of the harbor where the Athenian fleet lay, and making straight for the Syra- cusan side, it was clear that she was a friend ; the enemy's cruisers, careless through confidence of success, made no attempt to ciit her oft' ; she touched the beach, and a Corinthian captain, springing on shore from her, was eagerly conducted to the assem- bly of the Syracusan people just in time to prevent the fatal vote Ijeing put for a surrender. f Tliuc, Uh. vl., sec. 90, 91. DEFEAT OF THE ATHENIANS. til Providentially for Syracuse, Gongylus, the commander of the galley, had been prevented by an Athenian squadron from follow- ing (rylippus to South Italy, and he had been obliged to push direct for Syracuse from Greece. The sight of actual succor, and the promise of more, revived the drooping spirits of the Syracusans. They felt that they were not left desolate to perish, and the tidings that a Spartan was coming to command them confirmed their resolution to continue their resistance. Gylippus was already near the city. He had learned at Locri that the lirst report which had reached him of the state of Syracuse was exaggerated, and that there was unfinished space in the besiegers' lines through which it was barely possible to in- troduce re-enforcements into the town. Crossing the Straits of Messina, which the culpable negligence of Nicias had left un- guarded, Gylippus landed on the northern coast of Sicily, and there began to collect from the Greek cities an army, of which the regular troops that he brought from Peloponnesus formed the nucleus. Such was the influence of the name of Sparta,* and such were his own abilities and activity, that he succeeded in raising a force of about two thousand fully-armed infantry, with a larger number of irregular troops. Nicias, as if infatuated, made no attempt to counteract his oijerations, nor, when Gylippus marched his little army toward Syracuse, did the Athenian com- mander endeavor to check him. The Syracusans marched out to meet him ; and while the Athenians were solely intent on com- pleting their fortifications on the southern side toward the harbor, Gylippus turned their position by occupying the high ground in the extreme rear of Epipolse. He then marched through the un- fortified interval of Nicias's lines into the besieged town, and join- ing his troops with the Syracusan forces, after some engagements with varying success, gained the mastery over Nicias, drove the Athenians from Epipolae, and hemmed them into a disadvantage- ous position in the low grounds near tha great harbor. The attention of all Greece was now fixed on Syracuse ; and every enemy of Athens felt the importance of the opportunity now offered of checking her ambition, and, j)erhaps, of striking a deadly blow at her power. Large re-enforcements from Corinth, Thebes, and other cities now reached the Syracusans, while the baffled and dispirited Athenian general earnestly besought his countrymen to recall him, and represented the further prosecu- tion of the siege as hopeless. But Athens had made it a maxim never to let difficulty or dis- aster drive her back from any enterprise once undertaken, so long as she possessed the means of making any effort, however desper- * The effect of the presence of a Spartan officer on tlis troops of tlie other Greeks seems to have been hlce the effect of the presence of an EngUsh (Hacer upon native Indian troops. 52 DECISIVE BATTLES. ate, icv its accomplishment. With indomitable pertinacity, she now decreed, instead of recalling her first armament from before Syracuse, to send out a second, though her enemies near home had now renewed open warfare against her, and by occupying a permanent fortification in her territory had severely distressed her population, and were pressing her with almost all the hardships of an actual siege. She still was mistress of the sea, and she sent forth another fleet of seventy galleys, and another army, which seemed to drain almost the last reserves of her military popula- tion, to try if Syracuse could not yet be won, and the honor of the Athenian arms be preserved from the stigma of a retreat. Kers was, indeed, a spirit that might be broken, but never would bend. At the head of this second expedition she wisely placed her best general, Demosthenes, one of the most distinguished officers that the long Peloponnesian war had produced, and who, if he had originally held the Sicilian command, would soon have brought Syracuse to submission. The fame of Demosthenes the general had been dimmed by the superior lustre of his great countryman, Demosthenes the orator. When the name of Demosthenes is mentioned, it is the latter alone that is thought of. The soldier has found no biographer. Yet out of the long list of great men whom the Athenian republic pro- duced, there are few that deserve to stand higher than this brave, though finally unsuccessful leader of her fleets and armies in the first half of the Peloponnesian war. In his first campaign in Mto- lia he had shown some of the rashness of youth, and had received a lesson of caution by which he profited throughout the rest of his career, but without losing any of his natural energy in enterprise or in execution. He had performed the distinguished service of rescuing Naupactus from a powerful hostile armament in the sev- enth year of the war ; he had then, at the request of the Acarnanian republics, taken on himself the office of commander-in-chief of all their forces, and at their head he had gained some important advantages over the enemies of Athens in Western Greece. His most celebrated exploits had been the occupation of Pj^los on the Messenian coast, the successful defense of that place against the fleet and armies of Lacedtemon, and the subsequent caj^ture of the Spartan forces on the isle of Sphacteria, which was the severest blow dealt to Sparta throughout the war, and which had mainly caused her to humble herself to make the truce with Athens. De- mosthenes was as honorably unknown in the war of party politics at Athens as he was eminent in the war against the foreign enemy. We read of no intrigues of his on either the aristocratic or demo- cratic side. He was neither in the interest of Nicias nor of Cleon. His private charaoter was free from any of the stains which pollui* ed that of Alcibiades. On all these points the silence of the comic dramatist is decisive evidence in his favor. He had also the moral courage, not always combined ^yith physical, of seeking to do his d:e^eat of the atkemaj^s. s^ duty to fiis country, irrespective of any odium that he. aimself might incur, and unhampered by any petty jealousy of those who were associated with him in command. There are few men named in ancient history of whom posterity would gladly know more, or whom we sympathize with more deeply in the calamities that befell them, than Demosthenes, the son of Alcisthenes, who, in the spring of the year 413 b. c, left Piraeus at the head of the second Athenian expedition against Sicily. His arrival was critically timed; for Gylippus had encouraged the Syracusans to attack the Athenians under Nicias by sea as well ^s by land, and by one able stratagem of Ariston, one of the admirals of the Corinthian auxiliary squadron, the Syracusans ind their confederates had inflicted on the fleet of Nicias the first lefeat that the Athenian navy had ever sustained from a numerically nferior enemy. Gylippus was preparing to follow up his advan- tage by fresh attacks on the Athenians on both elements, when ikhe arrival of Demosthenes completely changed the aspect of fiffairs, and restored the superiority to the invaders. With seventy- "^hree war-galleys in the highest state of efficiency, and brilliantly equipped, with a force of five thousand picked men of the regular infantry of Athens and her allies, and a still larger number of bow-mea, javelin-men, and slingers on board. Demosthenes rowed round the great harbor with loud cheers and martial music, as if in defiance of the Syracusans and their confederates. His arrival had indeed changed their newly-born hopes into the deep- est consternation. The resources of Athens seemed inexhaustible, and resistance to her hopeless. They had been told that she was reduced to the last extremities, and that her territory was occu- pied by an enemy; and yet heye they saw her sending forth, as if in prodigality of power, a second armament to make foreign conquests, not inferior to that with which Nicias had first landed on the Sicilian shores. "With the intuitive decision of a great commander, Demosthenes at once saw that the possession of Epipolae was the key to the pos- session of Syracuse, and he resolved to make a prompt and vigor- ous attempt to recover that position, while his force was unim- paired, and the consternation which its arrival had produced among the besieged remained unabated. The Syracusans and their allies had run out an outwork along Epiipolae from the city walls, intersecting the fortified lines of circumvallation which Kicias had commenced, but from which he had been driven by Gylippus. Could Demosthenes succeed in storming this outwork, and in re-establishing the Athenian troops on the high ground, he might fairly hope to be able to resume the circumvallation of the city, and become the conquerer of Syracuse;. for when once the besiegers' lines were completed, the number of the troops with ■which Gylippus had garrisoned the place would only tend to exhaust the stores of provisions and accelerate its downfalli 54 DECISIVE BATTLES. An eAsily-repelled attack was first made on the ontv.-ork in the day-time, probably mure Tsith the Aiew of blinding the besieged to the nature of the main operations than with any expoctiition of snceeeding in an op n assault, witli every disailvantage ot the ground to contend.ni^aii.^st. l>ut, when the darkness had set in, J)emosthen?siormedhismenin columns, each soldier taking with him hve days' provisions, and the engineers and workmen of the camp following the troops with their tools, and all portuble im- plements of fortitieation, so as at once to secure any advantage of ground that the army might gain. Thus equipped j;nd prepared, he led his men along by the foot of the southern tiank of Epipoh^, in a direction toward the interior of the island, till he came im- mediately below the narrow ridge that forms the extremity of the high ground looking westward. He then wheeled his vanguard to the right, sent them rapidly up the paths that wind along the fl^ce of the clift", and succeeded in completely surprising the !Syra- cusan outposts, and in placing his troops fairly on the extreme summit of the all-important Epipolas. Thence the Athenisins marched eagerly down the slope toward the town, routing some Syracusan detachments that were quartered in their way, and vigorously assailing the unprotected side of the outwork. All at lirst favored them. The outwork was abandoned by its garrison, and the Athenian engineers began to dismantle it. In vain Gy lip- pus brought up fresh troops to check the assault; the Athenians broke and drove them back, and continued to press hotly forward, in the full contidence of victory. But, amid the general consterna- tion of the Syracusans and their confederates, one body of infantry stood lirm. This was a brigade of their Boeotian allies, which was posted low down the slope of Epipoh^, outside the city walls. Oooly and steadily the Boeotian infantry formed their line, and, undismayed by the current of Hight around them, advanced a^:;aiiist the advancing Athenians. This was the crisis of the bat^ tie. But the Athenian van was disorganieed by its own previous successes; and, yielding to the unexpected charge thus made on it by troops in perfect order, and of the most obstinate courage, it was driven back in confusi.on upon the other divisions of the army, that still continued to press forward. "When once the tide was thus turned, the Syi-acusans passed rapidly from the extreme of panic to the extreme of vengeful daring, and with all their forces they now fiercely assailed the embarrassed and receding Athen- ians. In viun did the otficers of the latter strive to re-form their line. Amid the din and the shouting of the fight, and the confusion inseparable upon a night engagement, es'pecially one where many thousand combatants were pent and whirled together in a narrow and uneven area, the necessary maneuvers were impraeti(y able; and though many companies still fought on desperately, Defeat of thf Athenians. 55 wherever the moonlight showed them the semblance of a foe,* they fought without concert or subordination ; and not unfre- quently, amid the deadly chaos, Athenian troops assailed each other. Keeping their ranks close, the Syracusaus and their allies pressed on against the disorganized masses of the besiegers, and at length drove them, with heavy slaughter, over the cliffs, which an hour or two before they had scaled full of hope, and apparently certain of success. This defeat was decisive of the event of the siege. The Athe- nians afterward struggled only to protect themselves from the ven- geance which the Syracusians sought to wreak in the complete destruction of their invaders. Never, however, was vengeance more complete and terrible. A series of sea-fights followed, in which the Athenian galleys were utterly destroyed or captured. The marines and soldiers who escaped death in disastrous en- gagements, and a vain attempt to force a retreat into the interior of the island, became prisoners of wur ; Nicias and Demosthenes were put to death in cold blood, and their men either perished miserably in the syracusan dungeons, or were sold into slavery to the very persons whom, in their pride of power, they had crossed the seas to enslave. All danger from Athens to the independent nations of the West •was now forever at an end. She, indeed, centinued to struggle against her combined enemies and revolted allies with unpar- alleled gallantry, and many more years of varying warfare passed away before she surrendered to their arms. But no success in subsequent conquests could ever have restored her to the pre-em- inence in enterprise, resources, and maratime skill which she had acquired before her fatal reverses in Sicily. Nor among the rival Greek republics, whom her own rashness aided to crush her, was there any capable of re-organizing her empire, or resuming her schemes of conquest. The dominion of Western Europe was left for Kome and Carthage to dispute two centuries later, in conflicts still more terrible, and with even higher displays of military dar- ing and genius than Athens had witnessed either in her rise, her meridian, or her fall. * *Hr /lev ydp 6EXr]y7]^Xaintpdi hc^poav ds ovrco's dXXyXov?, cSi kv dsXr/v^ sixo'^ ttJv jU£^ otf^iv rov doonaro's Ttpoopdv rrjv ^€ yy^div rov oixeiov aTtidreiKjOai. — Thuc, lib. vll., 44. Compare Vacitus's description of the lAghX enMagement in the civil war between Vespasian and Vitellius. " Keutro incliriaverat fortuna, donec adulta nocte Ana osUnderet acUa/atleretqva.^'—Jii^., llh. ill., sec. 'I'i, ^ JOEClSiVE £ATTL£6. Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Athenians a* SXKACTJSE AND THE BaTTLE OF ArBKT.A. 412 B. C. Many of the subject allies of Athens revolt from hef on her disasters before Syracuse being known; the seat of war ia transferred to the Hellespont and eastern side of the ^gaean. I 410 . The Carthaginians attempt to make conquests in Sicily. * 407. Cyrus the Younger is sent by the King of Persia to take the government of all the maritime parts of Asia Minor, and with orders to help the Lacedaemonian fleet against the Athenian. 406. Agrigentum taken by the Cai-thaginians. 405. The last Athenian fleet destroyed by Lysander at ^gospo* tami, Athens closely besieged. Eise of the power of Dionysiua at Syracuse. 40*4. Athens surrenders. End of the Peloponnesian war. Thd ascendency of Sparta complete throughout Greece. 403. Thrasybulus, aided by the Thebans and with the conni* vance of one of the Spartan kings, liberates Athens from the ThirtJ Tyrants, and restores the democracy. 401, Cyrus the Younger commences his expedition into Uppel Asia to dethrone his brother Artaxerxes Mnemon. He takes with him an auxiliary force of ten thousand Greeks. He is killed in battle at Cunaxa, and the ten thousand, led by Xenophon, eflfecl their retreat in spite of the Persian armies and the natural obstacles of their march. 399. In this and the five following years, the Lacedasmonians, Tinder Agesilaus and other commanders, carry on war against tha Persian satraps in Asia Minor. ^396. Syracuse besieged by the Carthaginians, and successfully defended by Dionysius. 394. Eome makes her first great stride in the career of conquest by the capture of Veii. 393. The Athenian admiral, Conon, in conjunction with the Persian satrap Pharnabazus, defeats the Lacedaemonian fleet off ( Cnidus, and restores the fortifications of Athens. Several of the . former allies of Sparta in Greece carry on hostilities against her. 388. The nations of Northern Europe now first appear in authentic history. The Gauls oven-un great part of Italy and burn Eome. Eome recovers from the blow, but her old enemies the ^quians and Yolscians are left completely crushed by the Gallic invaders. 387. The peace of Antalcidas is concluded among the Greeks by the mediation, and under the sanction, of the Persian king. 378 to 361. Fresh wars in Greece. Epaminondas raises Thebes to be the leading state of Greece, and the supremacy of Sparta is destroyed at the battle of Leiictra. Epaminondas is killed in gaining the victory of Mantinea, and the power of Thebes falls £A TTIE Ot" AltBjBLA. 57 with. him. Th© Athenians attempt a balancing system between Sparta and Thebes. 359. Philip becomes king of Macedon. 357. The teocial War breaks out in Greece, and lasts three years. Its result checks the attempt of Athens to regain her old maritime empire. 356. Alexander the Great is born. 343. Eome begins her wars with the Samnites: they extend over a period of fifty years. The end of this obstinate contest is to se- cure for her the dominion of Italy. 340. Fresh attempts of the Carthaginians upon Syracuse. Tim- oleon defeats them with great slaughter. 338. Philip defeats the confederate armies of Athens and Thebes at Chaeronea, and the Macedonian supremacy over Greece is firm- ly established. 336. Philip is assassinated, and Alexander the Great becomes king of Macedon. He gains several victories over the northern barbarians who had attacked Macedonia, and destroys Thebes, which, in conjunction with Athens, had taken up arms against the Macedonians. 334 Alexander passes the Hellespont. CHAPTEB m. THS BATTLE OY ARBETiA, B.C. 331. Alexander deserves the glory which he has enjoyed for so many centu. rles and among all nations : but what if he had been beaten at Arbela, having the Euphrates, the Tigris, and tbe deserts In his rear, without any strong places of refuge, mne hundred leagues from Macedonia I— Napo- leon. Asia beheld with astonishment and awe the uninterrupted progress of a hero, the sweep of whose conquests was as wide and rapid as that of her own barbaric kings, or of the Scythian or Chaldean hordes; but, far un- Uke the transient whirlwinds of Asiatic warfare, the advance of the Mace- donian leader was no less deUberate than rapid ; at every step the Greek power took root, and the language and the civilization of Greece were planted from the shores of the yEgaean to the banks oi the Indus, from the Caspian and the great Hyrcanian plain to the cataracts of the Nile ; to exist actually for nearly a thousand years, and in their effects to endure forever.— Arnold. A LONG and not tininstructive list might be made out of illus- trious men whose characters have been vindicated during recent times from aspersions which for centuries had been thrown on them. The spirit of modern inquiry, and the tendency of modern scholarship, both of which are often said to be solely negative laid destructive, iiave, in truth, restored to splendor, and al« 68 DECISIVE BATTLKH. most created anew, far more than they have assailed with censiire, or dismissed from consideration as unreal. The truth of many a brilliant narrative of brilliant exploits has of late years been triumphantly demonstrated, and the shallowness of the skeptical scofls with which little minds have carped at the great minds of antiquity has been in many instances decisively exposed. The laws, the politics and the lines of action adopted or recommended by eminent men and powerful nations have been examined with keener investigation, and considered with more comprehensive judgment than formerly were brought to bear on these subjects. The result has been at least as often favorable as unfavorable to the persons and the states so scrutinized, and many an oft-repeated slanuer against both measures and men has thus been silenced, we may hope forever. The veracity of Herodotus, the pure patriotism of Pericles, of Demosthenes, and of the Gracchi, the wisdom of Clisthenes and of Licinius as constitutional reformers, may be mentioned as facts which recent writers have cleared from unjust suspicion and cen- sure. And it might be easily shown that the defensive tendency, which distinguishes the present and recent great writers of Ger- many, France and England, has been equally manifested in the spirit in which they have treated the heroes of thought and heroes of action who lived during M'hat we termed the Middle Ages, and whom it was so long the fashion to sneer at or neglect. The name of the victor of Arbela has led to these reflections ; for, although the rapidity and extent of Alexander's conquests have through all ages challenged admiration and amazement, the grandeur of genius which he displayed in his schemes of com- merce, civilization, and of comprehensive union and unity among nations, has, until lately, been comparatively unhonored. This long-continued depreciation was of early date. The ancient rhetoricians — a class of babblers, a school for lies and scandal, as Niebuhr justly termed them — chose, among the stock themes for their commonplaces, the character and exploits of Alexander. They had their followers in ever}'' age ; and, until a very recent period, all who wished to "point a moral or adorn a tale," about unreasoning ambition, extravagant pride, and the formidable phrensies of free will when leagued with free power, have never failed to blazon forth the so-called madman of Macedonia as one of the most glaring examples. Without doubt, many of these writers adopted with implicit credence traditional ideas, and supposed, with uninquiring philanthropy, that in blackening Alexander they were doing humanity good service. But also, without doubt, many of his assailants, like those of other great men, have been mainly instigated by " that strongest of all an- tipathies, the antipathy of a second-rate mind to a first-rate one,"* and by the envy which talent too often bears to genius. *JLKj;5tael, *"" ■ BATTLE. OB aBBE'La, 6^ Arrfan, vfho •wrote his history of Alexander when Hadrian was empeioy of the Komau world, lind when the spirit of declamation and dog^Matism wasj at its full hcjigbt, but who was himself, unlike the drean^ing pedants of the Rcliools, a statesman and a soldier of practical and proved ability, well rebuked the malevolent asper- sions which )ie heard continually thrown upon the memory of the conquerer of the East. He truly says : " Let the man who speaks evil of Alexander not merely brin^ forward those passages of Alexander's life which were really svil, but let him collect and i'eview all the actions of Alexander, and then let him thoroughly consiJer first who and what mannei of man he himself is, and what has been his own career ; and then let him consider who and what manner of man Alexander was, and to what an eminence of ham .n grandeur Ae arrived. Let him consider that Alexander was a King, and the undisputed lord of two continents, and that his name is renowned throughout the whole earth. Let the evil- speaker against Alexander bear all this in mind, and then let him reflect on his own insignificance, the pettiness of his own circum- stances and affairs, and the blunders that b3 makes about these, paltry and trifling as they are. Let him then ask himself whether he is a fit person to censure and revnle such a man as Alexander. I believe that there was in his time no nation of men, no city, nay, no single individual with whom Alexander' ci name had not become a familiar word. I therefore hold that sucn a man, who was like no oi'dinary mortal, was not born into the world without some special providence."* And one of the most distiiiguished soldiers and writers of our own nation. Sir Walter Kaleiwh, though he failed to estimate justly the full merits of Alexandtr, has expressed his sense of the grandeur of the part played iiv the world by "the great Emathian conquerer" in language that well deserves quotation. "So much hath the spirit of some one man excelled as it hath undertaken and affected the alteration of the greatest states and commonweals, the erection of monarchies, the conquest of king- doms and empires, guided handfuls of men against multitudes of equal bodily strength, contrived victories beyond all hope and discourse of reason, converted the fearful passions of his own followers into magnanimity, and the valor of his enemies into cow- ardice ; such spirits have been stirred up in sundry ages of the world, and in divers parts thereof, lo erect and cast down again, to establish and to destroy, and to bring all things, persons, anc* states to the same certain ends, which the infinite spirit of the Universal, piercing, moving, and governing all things, hath or- dained. Certainly, the things that this king did were marvelous, and would hardly have been undertaken by anyone else : and though his father had determined to have invaded the Lesser Asia, I I '■ I" ■ I ■ ■»————> • Arrian lib. yiL, aa fineia. eO DZCISIVi: BATTLES, it is like enough that he would have contented himself with some part thereof, iind not have discovered the river of Indus, as this man did."* A higher authorit^y^ than either Arrian or ErJeigh may now he referred to by those who wish to know the real merit of Alexander as a general, and how far the commonplace assertions are true that his siiccesses were the mere results of fortunate rash- ness and unreasoning pugnacity. Napoleon selected Alex- ander as one of the seven greatest generals whose noble deeds history has handed down to us, and from the study of whose comptxigns the principles of war are to be learned. The critique of the greatest conquerer of modern times on the military career of the great conquerer of the Old "World is no less graphic than true. "Alexander crossed the Dardanelles 334: b. c, with an army of about forty thousand men, of which one eighth was cavalry ; he forced the passage of the Granicus in opposition to an army under Memmon, the Greek, who commanded for Darius on the coast of Asia, and he spent the whole of the year 333 in establishing his power in Asia Minor. He was seconded by the Greek colonies, ■who dwelt on the borders of the Black Sea and on the Mediterran- ean, and in Sardis, Ephesus , Tarsus, Miletus, il-c. The kings of Pei-sia left their provinces and towns to be governed according to their own particular laws. Their empire was a union of confeder- ate states, and did not form one nation; this facilitated its conquest. As Alexander only wished for the throne of the monarch, he easily aliected the change by respecting the customs, manners, and laws of the people, who experienced no change in their conditions. "In the year 332 he met with Dariiis at the head of sixty thou- sand men, who had taken up a position near Tarsus, on the banks of the Issus, in the province of Cilicia. He defeated him, en- tered Syria, took Damascus, which contained all the riches of the great king, and laid siege to Tyre. This superb metropolis of the commerce of the world detained him nine months. He took Gaza, after a siege of two months ; crossed the Desert in seven days ; entered Pelusium and Memphis, and founded Alexan- dria. In less than two years, after two battles and four or five sieges, the coasts of the Black Sea, from Phasis to Byzantium, those of the Mediterranean as far as Alexandria, all Asia Minor, Syris and Egypt, had submitted to his arms. "In 331 he repassed the Desert, encamped in Tyre, recrossed Syria, entered Damascus, passed the Euphrates and Tigris, and defeated Darius on the tield of Arbela, when he was at the head of a still stronger army than that which he commanded on the Issus, and Babylon opened her gates to him. In 330 he overran Susa and took that city, Persepolis, and Parsargarda, which con- tained the tomb of Cyrus. In 320 he directed his course north- ^ThQ Historic ol the World,-' by Sir Walter Kaleigh, Knight, p. 648. BATTLE OF ABBELA. 61 Trard, entered Ecbatana, and extended his conquests to tlie coasts of the Caspian, punished Bessus, the cowardly assassin of Darius, penetrated into Scythia, and subdued the Scythians. In 328 he forced the passage of the Oxus, received sixteen thousand recruits from Macedonia, and reduced the neighboring people to subject- tion. In 327 he crossed the Indus, vanquished Porus in a pitched battle, took him prisoner, and treated him as a king. He con- templated passing the Ganges, but his army refused. He sailed down the Indus, in the year 32G, with eight hundred vessels ; having arrived at the ocean, he sent Nearchus with a fleet to run along the coasts of the Indian Ocean and the Persian Gulf as far as the mouth of the Euphrates. In 325 he took sixty days in crossing from Gedrosia, entered Kermania, returned to Pasargada, Persepolis, and Susa, and married Statira, the daughter of Darius. In 324 he marched once more to the north, passed Ecbatana, and terminated his career at Babylon,* The enduring importance of Alexander's conquests is to bo estimated not by the duration of his own life and empire, or even by the duration of the kingdoms which his generals after his death formed out of the fragments of that mighty dominion. In every region of the world that he traversed, Alexander planted Greek settlements and founded cities, in the populations of which the Greek element at once asserted its predominance. Among his successors, the Selucidse and the Ptolemies imitated their great captain in blending schemes of civilization, of commercial inter- course, and of literary and scientific research with all their enter- prises of military aggrandizement and with all their systems of civil administration. Such was the ascendency of the Greek genius, so wonderfully comprehensive and assimilating was the cultivation which it introduced, that, within thirty years after Alexander crossed the Hellespont, the Greek language was spoken in every country from the shores of the ^gaen to the Indus, and also throughout Egypt— not, indeed, wholly to the extirpation of the native dialects, but it became the language of every court, of all literature, of every judicial and political function, and formed a medium of communication among the many myriads of man- kind inhabiting these large portions of the Old World, f Through- out Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt, the Hellenic character that was thus imparted remained in full vigor down to the time of the Mohammedan conquests. The infinite value of this to hu- manity in the highest and holiest point of view has often been pointed out, and the workings of the finger of Providence have been gratefully recognized by those who have observed how the early growth and progress of Christianity were aided by that diffusion of the Greek language and civilization throughout Asia * See Count Montholon's •' Memoirs of Napoleon." t See Arnold, Hist. Home, 111., p. 40€, 62 I>EC1SIVE BATTLES. Minor, Syria, and Egypt, -which had been caused by the Macedcy nian conq\iest of the East. In Upper Asia, beyond the Euphrates, the direct and material influence of Greek ascendency was more short-lived. Yet, dur- ing the existence of the Hellenic kingdoms in these regions, especially of the Greek kingdom of Bactrin, the modern Bokhara, very important effects were produced on the intellectual tenden- cies and tastes of the inhabitants of those countries, and of the adjacent on s, by the animating contact of the Grecian spirit. Much of Hindoo science and philosophy, miich of the literature of the later Persian kingdom of the Arsacidte, either originated from, or was largely moditied by, Grecian influences. So, also, the learning and science of the Arabians were in a far less de- gree the result of original invention and genius, than the repro- duction, in an altered form, cf the Greek philosophy and the Greek lore, acquired by the Saracenic conquerers, together with their acquisition of the provinces which Alexander had subjugated, nearly a thousand years before the armed disciples of Mohammed commenced their career in the East. It is well known that Western Europe in the Middle Ages drew its philosophy, its arts, and its science principally from Arabian teachers. And thus we see how the intellectual influence of ancient Greece poured on the Eastern world by Alexander's victories, and then broiight back to bear on iledian-al Europe by the spread of the Saracenic powers, has exerted its action on the elements of modern civilization by this powerful though indirect channel, as well as by the more obvious eftects of the remnant s of classic civilization which sur- vived in Italy, Gaul, Britain, and Spain, after the irruption of the Germanic nations. * These considerations invest the Macedonian triumphs in the East with never-dying interest, such as the most showy and san- guinary successes of mere " low ambition and the pride of kings," however they may dazzle for a moment, can never retain with posterity, "\Vhether the old Pei-sian empire which Cyrus founded could have survived mxtch longer than it did, even if Darius had been victorious at Arbela, may safely be disputed. That ancient dominion, like the Turkish at the present time, labored under every cause of decay and dissolution. The satraps, like the modern pashaws, continually rebelled against the central power, and Egypt in particular was almos talways in a state of insurrec- tion against the nominal sovereign. There was no longer any eifective central control, or any internal principle of unity fused through the huge mass of the empire, and binding it together. Persia was evidently about to fall ; bat, had it not been for Alexander's invasion of Asia, she would most probably have fallen beneath some other Oriental power, as Media and Babylon had * See HmntKjWt's '* Cosmos.'* BATTLE OF AEBELA, %% ^rmerly fallen before herself, and as, in after times, the Parthian supremacy gave way to the revived ascendency of Persia in the East, under the scepters of the Arsacida3. A revolution that merely substituted one Eastern power lor another would have been utteily barren and unprofitable to mankind. Alexander's victory at Arbela not only overthrew an Oriental' dynasty, but established European rulers in its stead . It broke the monotony of the Eastern world by the impression of Western energy and superior civilization, even as England's present miS' sion is to break up the mental and moral stagnation of India and Cathay by pouring upon and through them the impulsive current of Anglo-Saxon commerce and concjuest. Arbela, the city which has furnished its name to the decisive battle which gave Asia to Alexander, lies more than twenty miles from the actual scene of conflict. The little village, then named Guagemela, is close to the spot where the armies met, but has ceded the honor of naming the battle to its more euphonius neighbor. Gaugamela is situate in one of the wide plains that lie between the Tigris and the mountains of Kurdistan. A few undulating hillocks diversify the surface of this sandy track ; but the ground is generally level, and admirably qualified for the evolutions of cavalry and also calculated to give the larger of two armies the full advantage of numerical superiority. The Persian king (who, before he came to the throne, had proved his personal valor as a soldier and his skill as a general), had wisely selected this region for the third and decisive encounter between his forces and the invader. The previous defeats of his troops, however severe they had been, were not looked on as irreparable. The Granicus had been fought by his generals rashly and without mutual concert ; and, though Darius himself had commanded and been beaten at Issus, that defeat might be attributed to the disadvantageous nature of the ground, where, cooped up between the mountains, the river, and the sea, the numbers of the Persians confused and clogged alike the general's skill and the soldier's prowess, and their very strength had been made their weakness. Here, on the broad plains of Kurdistan, there was scope for Asia's largest host to array its lines, to wheel, to skirmish, to condense or ex^oand its squadrons, to maneuver, and to charge at will. Should Alexander and his scanty band dare to plunge into that living sec of war, their destruction seemed inevitable. Darius felt, however, the critical nature to himself as well as to his adversary of the coming encounter. He could not hope to retrieve the consequences of a third overthrow. The great cities of Mesopotamia and Upper Asia, the central provinces of the Persian empire, were certain to be at the mercy of the victor. Darius knew also the Asiatic character well enough to be aware how it yields to the preatige of success and the apparent career of destiny. He felt that the diadem was now to be either firmly replaced on his own P4 DECISIVE BATTLES. brovr, or to be irrevocably transferred to the head of his Enropeaa conqiierer. He, therefore, during the long interval left him after the battle of Issus, while Alexander was subjugating Syria and Egypt, assiduously busied himself in selecting the best troops which his vast empire supplied, and ia training his varied forces to aet together with some uniformity of discipline and system. The hardy mountaineers of Afghanistan, Bokhara, Khiva, and Thibet were then, as at present, far different to the generality of Asiatics in warlike spirit and endurance. From these districts Darius collected large bodies of admirable infantry ; and the countries oC the modern Kurds and Turkomans supplied, as they do now, squadrons of horsemen, hardy, skilful, bold, and trained to a life of constant activity and warfare. It is not uninteresting to notice that the ancestors of our own late enemies, the Sikhs, served as allies of Darius against the Macedonians. They are spoken of in Arrian as Indians who dwelt near Bactria. They were attached to the troops of that satrapy, and their cavalry was one of the most formidable forces in the whole Persian army. Besides these picked troops, contingents also came in from the niimerous other provinces that yet obeyed the Great King. Al- together, the horse are said to have been forty thousand, the scythe-bearing chariots two hundred, and the armed elephants fifteen in number. The amount of the infantry is uncertain ; but the knowledge which both ancient and modern times supply of the usual character of Oriental armies, and of their popula- tions of camp-followers, may warrant us in believing that many myriads were prepared to fight, or to encumber those who fought for the last Darius. The position of the Persian king near Mesopotamia was chosen with great military skill. It was certain that Alexander, on his return from Egypt, must march northward along the Syrian coast before he attacked the central provinces of the Persian empire. A direct eastward march from the lower part of Palestine across the great Syrian Desert was then, as ever, utterly imprac- ticable. Marching eastward from Syria Alexander would, on crossing the Euphrates, arrive at the vast Mesopotamian plains. The wealthy capitals of the empire, Babylon, Susa, and Persepolis, would then lie to the south ; and if he marched down through Mesopotamia to attack them, Darius might reasonably hope to follow the Macedonians with his immense force of cavalry, and, without even risking a pitched battle, to harass and finally over- whelm them. We may remember that three centuries after- ward a Boman army under Crassus was thus actually destroyed by the Oriental archers and horsemen in these very plains,* and that the ancestors of the Parthians who thus vanquished the So- man legions served by thousands under King Darius. If, on the * See Mitford. BATTLE OF AEBELA. £5 contrary, Alexander should defer his march against Babylon, and first seek an encounter with the Persian army, the country on each side of the Tigris in this latitude was highly advantageous for such an army as Darius commanded, and he had close in his^ rear the mountainous districts of Northern Media, where he him- self had in early life been satrap, where he had acquired reputa- tion as a soldier and a general, and where he justly expected to find loyalty to his person, and a safe refuge in case of defeat.* His great antagonist came on across the Euphrates against him, at the head of an army which Arrian, copying from the journals of Macedonian officers, states to have consisted of forty thousand foot and seven thousand horse. In studying the campaigns of Alexander, we possess the peculiar advantage of deriving our information from two of Alexander's generals of division, who bore an important part in all his enterprises. Aristo- bulu9 and Ptolemy ( who afterward became king of Egypt ) kept regular journals of the military events which they witnessed, and these journals were in the possession of Arrian when he drew up Ms history of Alexander's expedition. The high charactar of Ar- rian for integrity makes us confident that he used them fairly, and hig comments on the occasional discrepancies between the two Macedonian narratives prove that he used them sensibly. He frequently quotes the very words of his authorities ; and his history thus acquires a charm such as very few ancient or modern military narratives possess. The anecdotes and expressions which he records we fairly believe to be genuine, and not to be the coinage of a rhetorician, like those in Curtius. In fact, in reading Arrian, we read General Aristobulus and General Ptol- emy on the campaigns of the Macedonians, and it is like read- ing General Jomini or General Foy on the campaigns of the French. The estimate which we find in Arrian of the strength of Alex- ander's army seems reasonable enough, when we take into account both the losses which he had sustained and the re-enforcements which he had received since he left Europe. Indeed, to Englishmen, who know with what mere handfuls of men our own generals have, at Plassy, at Assay e, at Meeanee, and other Indian battles, routed large hosts of Asiatics, the desparity of numbers that we read of in the victories won by the Macedoni- ans over the Persians presents nothing incredible. The army which Alexander now led was wholly composed of veteran troops * Mltford's remarks on the strategy of Darius in Ms last campaign are very just. After liaving been unduly admired as an historian, Mitford is now unduly neglected. His partiality, and his deflciency in scholarship have heen exposed sufficiently to make him no longer a dangerous guide as to Greek poiirics, while the clearness and hrillancy of his narrative, and the (itrong common senbe ot his remarKis (where his party prejudices do not iateilere), must always make his volumes valuable as well as entertaining. D.B.— 3 ^__. ^^ $6 DECISIVE BATTLES. in the highest possible state of equipment and discipline, enthu- siastically devoted to their leader, and full of confidence in hiy military genius and his victorious destiny. The celebrated Macedonian phalanx formed the main strength of his infantry. This force had been raised and organized by his father Philip, who, on his accession to the Macedonian throne, needed a numerous and quickly-formed army, and who, by length- ening the spear of the ordinary Greek phalanx, and increasing the depths of the files, brought the tactic of armed masses to the highest extent of which it was capable with such materials as he possessed. * He formed his men sixteen deep, and placed in their grasp the saiissa, as the Macedonian pike was called, which was four-and-twenty feet in length, and when couched for action, reached eighteen feet in front of the soldier ; so that, as a space of about two feet was allowed between the ranks, the spears of the five files behind him projected in front of each front-rank man. The phalangite soldier was fully equipped in the defens- ive armor of the regular Greek infantry. And thus the phalanx presented a ponderous and bristling mass, which, as long as its order was kept compact, was sure to bear down all opposition. The defects of such an organization are obvious, and were proved in after years, when the Macedonians were opposed to the Boman legions. But it is clear that under Alexander the phalanx was not the cumbrous, unwieldy body which it was at Cynoscephalas and Pydna. His men were veterans ; and he could obtain from them an accuracy of movement and steadiness of evolution such as probably the recruits of his father would only have floundered in attempting, and such as certainly were impracticable in the phalanx when handled by his successors, especially as under them it ceased to be a standing force, and became only a militia.f Under Alexander the phalanx consisted of an aggregate of eighteen thousand men, who were divided into six brigades of three thousand each. These were again subdivided into regiments and companies ; and the men were carefully trained to wheel, to face about, to take more ground, or to close up, as the emer- gencies of the battle required. Alexander also arrayed troops armed in a different manner in the intervals of the regiments of his phalangites, who could prevent their line from being pierced, and their companies taken in tian-k, when the nature of the ground prevented a close formation, and who could be with- drawn when a favorable opportunity arrived for closing up the phalanx or any of its brigades for a charge, or when it was necessary to prepare to receive cavalry. Besides the phalanx, Alexander had a considerable force of infantry who were called Shield-bearers: they were^ aot so heavily armed as the phalangites, or as was the case witn the Greek * gee Niebuhr's " Hist, of Koine," vol. ill., p. 466. t See KieLuiir. BATTLE OF ARBELA. 6/ regular infantry in general, but they were equipped for close fight as well as for skirmishing, and were far superior to the ordinary irregular troops of Greek warfare. They were about six thousand strong. Besides these, he had several bodies of Greek regular infantry; and he had archers, slingers, and javelin-men, who fought also with broadsword and target, and who were principally sup- plied by the highlanders of Illyra and Thracia. The main strength of his cavalry consisted in two chosen regiments of cuirassiers, one Macedonian and one Thessalian, each of which was about fifteen hundred strong. They were provided with long lances and heavy swords, and horse as well as man was fully equipped with defensive armor. Other regiments of regular cavalry were less heavily armed, and there were several bodies of light horsemen, whom Alexander's conquests in Egypt and Syria had enabled him to mount superbly. A little before the end of August, Alexander crossed the Euphrates at Thapsacus, a small corps of Persian cavalry under Mazaeus retiring before him. Alexander was too prudent to march down through the Mesopotamian deserts, and continued to advance eastward with the intention of passing the Tigris, and then, if he was unable to find Darius and bring him to action, of marching southward on the left side of that river along the skirts of a moun- tainous district where his men would sufier less from heat and thirst, and where provisions would be more abundant. Darius, finding that his adversary was not to be enticed into the march through Mesopotamia against his capital, determined to remain on the battle-ground, which he had chosen on the left of the Tigris; where, if his enemy met a defeat or a check, the de- struction of the invaders would be certain with two such rivers as the Euj)hrates and the Tigris in their rear. The Persian king availed himself to the utmost of every advantage in his power. He caused a large space of ground to be carefully leveled for the oper- ation of his scythe-armed chariots; and he deposited his military stores in the strong town of Arbela, about twenty miles in his rear. The rhetoricians of after ages have loved to describe Darius Codo- manus as a second Xerxes in ostentation and imbecility; but a fair examination of his generalship in this his last campaign shows that he was worthy of bearing the same name as his great predecessor, the royal son of Hystaspes. ( n learning that Darius was with a large army on the left of the Tigris, Alexander hurried forward and crossed that river without opposition. He was at first unable to procure any certain intelli- gence of the precise position of the enemy, and after giving his army a short interval of rest, he marched for four days down the left bank of the river. A moralist may pause upon the fact that Alexander must in this march have passed within a few miles of the ruins of Nineveh, the great city of the primseval conquerers of the human race. Neither the Macedonian king nor any of his fol. 68 DECISIVE BATTLES. lowers knew what those vast mounds had once been. They had already sunk in litter destruction ; and it is only within the last few years that the intellectual energj^ of one of our own countrymen has rescued Nineveh from its long centuries of oblivion.* On the fourth day of Alexander's southward march, his advanced guard reported that a body of the enemy's cavalry was in sight. He instantly formed his army in order for battle, and directing them to advance steadilj^ he rode forward at the head of some squadrons of cavalry, and charged the Persian horse whom he found before him. This was a mere reconnoitering party, and they broke and tied immediately; but the Macedonians made some prisoners, and from them Alexander found that Darius was posted only a few miles oft', and learned the strength of the army that he had with him. On receiving this news Alexander halted, and gave his men repose for four days, so that they should go into action fresh and vigorous. He also fortified his camp and deposited in it all his military stores, and all his sick and disabled soldiers, intending to advance upon the enemy with the serviceable part of his army perfectly unencumbered. After this halt, he moved forward, while it was yet dark, with the intention of reaching the enemy, and attacking them at break of day. About half way between the camj)s there were some undulations of the ground, which concealed the two armies from each other's view; but, on Alexander arriving at their summit, he saw, by the early light, the Persian host arrayed before him, and he probably also observed traces of some engineering operation having been carried on along part of the ground in front of them. Not knowing that these marks had been caused by the Persians having leveled the ground for the free use of their war-chariots, Alexander suspected that hidden x^itfalls had been prepared with a view of disordering the approach of his cavalry. He summoned a council of war forthwith. Some of the officers were lor attacking instantly, at all hazards; but the more prudent opinion of Parmenio prevailed, and it was determined not to advance further till the battle-ground had been carefull}'- surveyed. Alexander halted his army on the heights, and, taking with him some light-armed infantry and some cavalry, he passed part of the day in reconnoitering the enemy, and observing the nature of the ground which he had to fight on. Darius wisely refrained from moving his position to attack the Macedonians on the eminences which they occupied, and the two armies remained until night without molesting each other. On Alexander's return to his head- quarters, he summoned his generals and superior officers together, and telling them that he well knew that their zeal wanted no exhor- tatii^n, he besought them to do their utmost in encouraging and * See Layard's '• Nine veil," and see Vaux's ":J\meve]i and Persepolis." p. 16. BATTLE OF ARBELA. • C9 instructing those whom each commanded, to do their best in the next day's battle. They were to remind them that they were now not going to fight for a province as they had hitherto fought, but they were about to decide by their swords the dominion of all Asia. Each of&cer ought to impress this upon his subalterns, and they should urge it on their men. Their natural courage required no long words to excite its ardor; but they should be reminded of the paramount importance of steadiness in action. The silence in the ranks must be unbroken as long as silence was proper; but \when the time came for the charge, the shout and the cheer must be full of terror for the foe. The officers were to be alert in receiv- ing and communicating orders; and every one was to act as if he felt that the whole result of the battle depended on his own single good conduct. Having thus briefly instructed his generals, Alexander ordered that the army should sup, and take their rest for the night. Darkness had closed over" the tents of the Macedonians, when Alexander's veteran general, Parmenio, came to him, and proposed that they should make a night attack on the Persians; The king is said to have answered that he scorned to filch a victory, and that Alexander must conquer openly and fairly, Adrian justly re- marks that Alexander's resolution was as wise as it was spirited. Besides the confusion and uncertainty which are inseparable from night engagements, the value of Alexander's victory woTild have been impaired, if gained under circumstances which might supply the enemy with any excuse for his defeat, and encouraged him to renew the contest. It was necessary for Alexander not only to beat Darius, but to gain such a victory as should leave his rival without apology and without hope of recovery. The Persians, in fact, expected, and were prepared to meet a night attack. Such was the apjorehension that Darius entertained of it, that he formed his troops at evening in order of battle, and kept them under arms all night. The effect of this was, that the morning found them jaded and dispirited, while it brought their adversaries all fresh and vigorous against them. The written order of battle which Darius himself caused to be drawn up, fell into the hands of the Macedonians after the engage- ment, and Aristobulus copied it into his journal. "We thus possess, through Adrian, unusually authentic information as to the compo- sition and arrangement of the Persian army. On the extreme left were the Bactrian, Daan, and Arachosian cavalry. Next to these Darius placed the troops from Persia proper, both horse and foot. Then came the Susians, and next to these the Cadusians. These forces made up the left wing, Darius's own station was in the center. This was composed of the Indians, the Carians, the Mar- dian archers, and the division of Persians who were distinguished by the golden apples that formed the knobs of their spears. Here also were stationed the body-guard of the Persian nobility. Besides 70 DECISIVE BATTLES. these, there Vere, in the center, formed in deep order, the Uxian and Babylonian troops, and the soldiers from the Eed Sea. The brigade of Greek mercenaries, whom Dariiis had in his service, and who alone were considered fit to stand the charge of the Mace- donian phalanx, was drawn np on either side of the royal chariot. The ri<^ht wing was composed of the Calosyrians and Mesopota- mians, the Medcs, the Parthinns, the Sacians, the Tapnrians, Hycanians, Albanians, and Sacesim^. In advance of the line on the left wing were placed the Scythian cavalry, with a thousand of the Bactrian horse, and a hundred scythe-armed chariots. The ele- phants and fifty scythe-armed chariots were ranged in front of the center, and fifty more chariots, with the Armenian and Cappado- cian cavalry, were drawn up in advance of the right wing. Thus arrayed, the great host of King Darius passed the night, that to many thousands of them was the last of their existence. The morning of the first of October,* two thousand one hundred and eighty-two years ago, dawned slowly to their wearied watch- ing, and thoy could hear the note of the Macedonian trumpet sounding to arms, and could see King Alexander's forces descend from their tents oh the heights, and form in order of battle on the plain. There was deep need of skill, as well as of valor, on Alexander's side: and few battle-fields have witnessed more consummate generalship than was displayed by the JMacedonian king. There were no natural barriers by which he could protect his fianks; and not only was he certain to be overlapped on either wing by the vast lines of the Persian army, but there was imminent risk of their circling round him, and charging him in the rear, while he ad- vanced against their center. He formed, therefore, a second or reserve line, which was to wheel round, if required, or to detach troops to either flank, as the enemy's movements might necessitate; and thus, with their whole army ready at any moment to be thrown into one vast hollow square, the Macedonians advanced in two lines against the enemy, Alexander himself leading on the right wing, and the renowned phalanx forming the center, while Par- menio commanded on the left. Such was the general nature of the disposition which Alexander made of his armV. But we have in Arrian the details of the posi- tion of each brigade and regiment ; and as we know that these details were taken from the journals of Macedonian generals, it is interesting to examine them, and to read the names and stations of King Alexander's generals and colonels in this, the greatest of his battles . The eight regiments of the royal horse-guards formed the right of * See Clinton's " Fasti Hellenlcl." Tlie battle was fought eleven clays after an ecUpse of tlie moon, wliicli gives tlie means of fixing- tlie precise ate. BATTLE OF ABBELA. 71 Alexander's line. Their colonels were Cleitus (whose regiment was on the extreme right, the post of peculiar danger), Glaucias, Aris- ton, Sopolis, Heracleides, Demetrias, Meleager, and Hegelochus. Philotas was general of the whole division. Then came the Shield- bearing infantry : Nicanor was their general. Then came the pha- lanx in six brigades. Ccenus's brigade was on the,right, and nearest to the Shield-bearers ; next to this stood the brigade of Perdiccas, then Meleager's, then Polyp erchon's ; and then the brigade of Amynias, but which was now commanded by Simmias, as Amynias had been sent to Macedonia to levy recruits. Then came the infantry of the left wing, under the command of Craterus. Next to Crate- rus's infantry were placed the cavalry regiments of the allies, with Eriguius for their general. The Thessalian cavalry, commanded by Phiiippus, were next, and held the extreme left of the whole army. The whole left wing was entrusted to the command of Parmenio, who had round his person the Phalian regiment of cavalry, which was the strongest and best of all the Thessalian horse regiments. The center of the second line was occupied by a body of phalan- • gite infantry, formed of companies which were drafted for this purpose from each of the brigades of their phalanx. The of&cers in command of this corps were ordered to be ready to face about, if the enemy should succeed in gaining the rear of the army. On the right of this reserve of infantry , in the second line, and behind the royal horse-guards, Alexander placed half the Agrian light- armed infantry under Attains, and with them Brison's body of Macedonian archers and Oleander's regiment of foot. He also placed in this part of his army Menida's squadron of cavalry, and Artes's and Ariston's light horse. Menidas was ordered to watch if the enemy's cavalry tried to turn their flank, and, if they did so, to charge them before they wheeled completely round, and take them in flank themselves. A similar force was arranged on the left of the second line for the same purpose. The Thracian in- fantry of Stitalces were placed there, and Coeranus's regiment of the cavalry of the Greek allies, and Agathon's troops of the Odrysian irregular horse. The extreme lelt of the second line in this quarter was held by Andromachus's cavalry, A division of the Thracian infantry was left in guard of the camp. In advance of the righo wing and center was scattered a number of light-armed troops, of javelin-men and bow men, with the intention of warding off the charge of the armed chariots.* Conspicuous by the brilliancy of Ms armor, and by the choseTi band of officers who were round his person, Alexander took ftis own station, as his custom was, in the right wing, at the head ot bis * Kleber's arrangement of his troops ac one cattle oi Jieuopolis, whera with ten thousancl Europeans, he had to encounter eighty thousand. Asiap J m an open plain, is worth comparing with Alexander's cactto i-tia'jj. - See Tliiejcs's. " iiistoii'e du iJonmhxt," 4c,i ?oi. 4i., Wim 9» ^ 79 DECISiri: BATTLES. cavalry ? nnd wben nil the arranG:ements f-.^r the battle were ccm« plete nnd liis ^tiierals were fully iustrueted liow to act in each probaole emergem-v, be begnn to load liis men toward the enouy. It svas ever his custom to expose his life freely in battle, and to emmate the personal prowess of his great ancestor, Achilles. Per- hap.-!, in the bold enterprise of conquering Persia, it was politio for Alexander to raise his army's daring to the utmost by tlie ex- ample of his own heroic valor ; and, in his subsequent campaigns^ the love of excitement, of "the raptures of the strife," may have made him, like Murat, continue from clioice a ciTstom which he commenced from duty. Biit he never suflered the ardor of a soldier* to make him loose the coolness of the general, and at Arbela, in particular, he showed that he could act up to his lavorite Homeric maxim of being \ljii(p6rEpov, fiadiXsvi r' dya^oi xparspo'i r aix^TjTi]^. Great reliai^ce had been placed by the Persian king on the effect, of the scythe-bearing chariots. It was designed to launch these against the Macedonian phalanx, and to follow them up by a heavy charge of cavalry, which, it was hoped, would find the ranks of the spearmen disordered by the rush of the chariots, and easily destroy this most formidable part of Alexander's force. In front, therefore, of the Persian center, where Darius took his station, and which it was supposed the phalanx would attack, the ground had been care- fully leveled and smoothed, so as to allow the chariots to charge over it with their full sweep and speed. As the Macedonian army approached the Hersian, Alexander found that the front of his whole line barely equalled the front line of the Persian center, so that he was outranked on the right by the entire left wing of the enemy, and by their entire right wing on the left. His tactics were to assail some one point of the hostile army, and gain a decisive advantage, while he refused, as far as possible the encounter along the rest of the line. He therefore inclined his order of march to the right, so as to enable his right wing and center to come into collision with the enemy on as favorable terms as possible, al- though the maneuver might in some respect compromise his left. The effect of this oblique movement was to bring the phalanx and his own wing nearly beyond the limits of the ground which the Persians had prepared for the operations of the chariots; and Darius, fearing to lose the benefit of this arm against the most im- portant parts of the Macedonian force, ordered the Scythian and Bactrian cavalry, who were drawn up in advance on his extreme left,. to charge round upon Alexander's right wing, and check its further lateral progress. Against these assailants Alexander sent from his second line Menidas's cavalry. As these proved too few to make head against the enemy, he ordered Ariston also from the second line with his light horse, and Oleander with his foot, in ftiipport of Menidas. The Bactrians and Scvthians now began to BATTLE OF ABB EL A. 73 gire "way, out Darius re-enforced them by the mass of Bactrian cavalry from his main line, and an obstinate cavalry fight novv^ took place. The Bactrians and Scythians vi^ere numerous, and were better armed than the horseman under Menidas and Aris- ton; and tbe loss at first was heaviest on the Macedonian side. But still the European cavalry stood the charge of the Asiatics, iand at last, by their superior discipline, and by acting in squad- rons that supported each other,* instead of fighting in a confused mass like the barbarians, the Macedonians broke their adversaries, and drove them off the field. Darius now^ directed the scythe-armed chariots to be driven against Alexander's horse-guards and the phalanx, and these for- midable vehicles were accordingly sent rattling across the plain, against the Macedonian line. When we remember the alarm which the war chariots of the Britons created among Caisar's legions, we shall not be prone to deride this arm of ancient warfare as al- ways useless. The object of the chariot was to create unsteadiness in the ranks against which they were driven, and squadrons of cavalry followed close upon them to profit by such disorder. But the Asiatic chariots were rendered ineffective at Arbela by the light-armed troops, whom Alexander had specially apjjointed for the service, and who, wounding the horses and drivers with their missile weapons, and running along-side so as to cut the traces or seize the reins, marred the intended charge; and the few chariots that reached the phalanx passed harmlessly through the inte;rvals which the spearmen opened for them, and were easily captured in the rear. A mass of Asiatic cavalry was now, for the second time, collect- ed against Alexander's extreme right, and moved round it, with the view of gaining the flank of his army. At the critical moment, when their own flanks were exposed by this evolution, Aretes dashed on the Persian squadrons with his horsemen from Alexan- der's second line. While Alexander thus met and baffled all the * ''AXXd uai ooi rex's 7tpod/joXd-as watched by an enemy in the person of his own colleague. At last tiie entreaties of the s.^nate prevailed, and Livius consented to forego the feud, and to co-operate with Nero in preparing' for the coming struggle. As soon as the winter snows were thawed, Has drubal commenced his march from Auvergne to the Alps. He experienced none of the difficulties which his brother had met with from the mountain tribes. Hannibal's army had been the tirst body of regular troops that had ever traversed their regions; and, as wild animals assail a traveler, the natives rose against it instinc^ively, in imagined defense of their own habitations which they supposed to be the objects of Carthaginian ambition. But the fame of the war, with which Italy had now been convulsed for twelve years, had pene- trated into the Alpine passes, and the mountaineers now under- stood that a mighty city southward of the Alps was to be attacked by the troops whom they saw marching among them. They now not only opposed no resistance to the passage of Hasdrubal, but many of them, out of the love of enterprise and plunder, or allured by the high pay that he offered, took service with him; and thus he advanced upon Italy with an army that gathered strength at every league. It is said, also, that some of the most important engineering works which Hannibal had constructed were found by Hasdrubal still in existence, and materially favored the speed of his advance. He thus emerged into Italy from the Alpine val- leys much sooner than had been anticipated. Many warriors of the Ligurian tribes joined him; and, crossing the Eiver Po, he marched down its southern bank to the city of Placentia, whica Lj wished to secure as a base for his future operations. Placentia resisted him as bravely as it had resisted H.mnibal twelve years before, and for some time Hasdrubal waa occupied with a fruitless* siege before its walla. BATTLE OF THE METAXIBm. 91 Six armies were levied for the defense of Italy when the long dreaded approach of Husdrubul was announced. Seventy thousand Romans served in the fifteen legions, of which, with an equal number of Italian allies, those armies and garrisons were com- posed. Upward of thirty thousand more Komans were serving in Sicily, Sardinia, and Spain. The whole number of Eoman citizens of an age fit for military duty scarcely exceeded . a hundred and thirty thousand. The census t.iken before the commencement of the war had shown a total of two hundred and seventy thousand,- which had been diminished by more than half during twelve years.! These numbers are fearfully emphatic of the extremity to which Home was reduced, niid of her gigantic efibrts in that great agony of her fat:;. Not merely men, but money and military stores, were drained to the utmost; and if the armies of that year should be swept off by a repetition of the slaughters of Thrasymene and Cannao, all felt that Rome would cease to exist. Even if the cam- paign wore to be marked by no decisive success on eitlier side, her ruin seemed certain. In South Italy, Hannibal had either de- tached Rome's allies from her, or had impoverished them by the ravages of his army. If Kasdrubal could have done the same in Upper Italy; if Etruria, Umbria, and Northern Latium hud either revolted or been laid waste, Rome must have sunk beneath sheer starvation, for the hostile or desolated territory would have yielded no supplies of corn for her population, and money to purchase it from abroad there was none. Instant victory was a matter of life or death. Three of her six armies were ordered to the north, but the first of these was required to overawe the disaffected Etruscans. The second army of the north was pushed forward, under Porcius, the praetor, to meet and keep in check the advanced troops of Has- drubal ; while the third, the grand army of the north, which was to be under the immediate command of the consul Livius, who had the chief command in all North Italy, advanced more slowly in its support. There were similarly three armies in the south, under the orders of the other consul, Claudius Nero. The lot had decided that Livius was to be opposed to Hasdru- bal, and that Nero should face Hannibal. And "when all was ordered as themselves thought best, the two consuls went forth of the city, each his several way. The people of Rome were now quite otherwise affected than they had been when L. iEmilius Paulus and C. TerrentiusVarro were sent against Hannibal. They did no longer take upon them to direct their generals, or bid them dispatch and win the victory betimes, but rather tlaey stood in fear lest all diligence, wisdom, and valor should prove too little; for since few years had passed wherein some one of their generals had not been slain, and since it was manifest that, if either of these present consuls were defeated, or put to the worst, the two Carthaginians would forthwith join, and make short work with the other, it seemed a greater happiness than could be expected 92 DECISIVE BATTLES. that each of them should return home Tictor, and come off with honor from such mighty opposition as he was like to tind. "With extreme difficulty had Eome held iip her head ever since the bat- tle of Canna^; though it were so, that Hannibal alone, with little help from Carthage, had continued the vrar in Italy. But there was now arrived another son of Amilear, and one that, in his pres- ent expedition, had seemed a man- of more sufficiency than Han- nibal himself, for whereas, in that long and dangerous march thorow barborous nations, over great rivers, and mountains that were thought unpassable, Hannibal had lost a great part of his army, this Asdrubal, in the same places, had multiplied his num- bers, and gathering the people that he found in the way, descended from the Alps like a rowling snow-ball, far greater than he came over the Pyrenees at his first setting out of Spain. These considerations and the like, of which fear presented many unto them, caused the people of Eome to wait upon their consuls out of the town, like a pensive trtiin of mourners, thinking upon Mar- cellus and Crispinus, upon whom, in the like sort, they had given attendance the last year, but saw neither of them return alive from a less dangerous war. Particularly old Q. Fabius gave his accus- tomed advice to M. Livius, that he should abstain from giving or taking battle until he well understood the enemies condition. But the consul made him a froward answer, and said that he would tight the very first day, for that he thought it long till he should either recover his honor by victory, or, by seeing the over- throw of his own unjust citizens, satisfied himself with the joy of a great though not an honest revenge. But his meaning was bet- ter than his words."* Hannibal at this period occnpied with his veteran but much rediiced forces the extreme south of Italy. It had not been expected either by friend or foe that Hasdrubal would eflect his passage of the Alps so early in the year as actually occirrreii. And even when Hannibal learned that his brother was in Italy, and had ad- vanced as far as Placentia, he was obliged to pause for fiirther in- telligence before he himself commenced active operations, as he could not tell whether his brother might not be invited into Etru- ria, to aid the party there that was disafiected to Eome, or whether he would march down by the Adriatic Sea. Hannibal led his troops out of their winter quarters in Bruttium and marched northward as far as Canusiuiu. Nero had his headquarters near Yenusia, with an army which he had increased to forty thousand foot and two thousand five hundred horse, by incorporating under his own command some of the legions which had been intended to act under other generals in the south. There was another Eoman army, twenty thousand strong, south of Hannibal, at Tarentum. The strength of that city seciired this Eoman force from any at- * Sir Walter Ralelgli. BA TTLE OF THE MET A UR U8. 93 tack by Hannibal, and it was a serious matter to march northward and leave it in Lis rear, free to act against all his depots and allies in tije friendly part of Italy, which for the two or three last cam- paigns Lad served him for a base of Lis operations. Moreover, Nero's army was so strong that Hannibal could not concentrate trcopft enough to assume the offensive against it without weaken- ing his garrisons, and relinquishing, at least for a time, his grasp upon the southern provinces. To do this befoie he was certainly informed of his brother's operations would have been a useless sacrifice, as Nero could retreat before him upon the other Eoman armies near the capital, and Hannibal knew by experience that a mere advance of his army upon the walls of Home would have no effect on the fortunes of the war. In the hope, probably, of in- ducing Nero to follow him, and of gaining an opportunity of out- maneuvering the Eoman consul and attacking him on his march, Hannibal moved into Lucania, and then back into Apulia ; he again marched down into Bruttium, and strengthened his ,army by a levy of recruits in that district. Nero followed him, but gave him no chance of assailing him at a disadvantage. Some partial encounters seem to have taken place; but the consul could not prevent Hannibal's junction with his Bruttian levies, nor could Hannibal gain an opportunity of surprising and crushing the con- eul. * Hannibal returned to his form er head-quarters at Canusium, and halted there in expectation of further tidings of his brother's movements. Nero also resumed his former position in observa- tion of the Carthaginian army. Meanwhile, Hasdrubal had raised the siege of Placentia, and was advancing toward Ariminum on the Adriatic, and driving before him the Koman army under Porcius. Nor when the con- sul Livius had come up, and united the second and third armies of the north, could he make head against the invaders. The Komans still fell back before Hasdrubal, beyond Ariminum, beyond * The annalists whom Llvy copied spoke of Nero'S gaining repeated victories over Hannibal, and killing and taking his men by tens ot thou- sands. The falsehood of all this is self-evident. If Nero could thus always beat Hannibal, the Romans would not have been in such an agony of dread about Hasdrubal as all writers describe. Indeed, we have the express testimony of Poly bins that the statements which we read In Livy of Marcellus, Nero and others gaining victories over Hannibal in Italy, must be all fabrications of Eoman vanity. Polybius states, lib. xv., sec. 16. that Hannibal was never defeated before the battle of Zama; and In another passage, book ix., chap. 3, he mentions that after the defeats wliich Hannibal inflicted on the Romans in the early years of the war, they no lOEger dared face his army in a pitched battle on a fair field, and yet they resolutely maintained the war He rightly explains this by referring to the superiority of Hannibal's cavalry, the arm which gained him all his victories. By keeping within fovtifled lines, or close to the sides of the mountains when Hannibal approached them, the Romans rendered his cav- alry ineffective ; and a glance at the geography of Italy will show bow an army can traverse the greater part of ViaX country without venturing far Irom the high grounds. 94 DWISn^E BATTLES. the Metanrns, and as far as the little town of Sena, to the sontli- east of that river. Hasdrubal was not nnmindiul of the necessity of acting in concert with his brother. He sent messengers to Hannibal to announce his own line of march, and to propose that they should unite their armies in South Umbria, and then wheel rounei against Eome. Those messengers traversed the greater part of Italy in safety, but, when close to the object of their mission, were captured by a Homan detachment, and Hasdrubal's letter, detailing his whole pLm of the campaign, was laid, not in his brother's hands, but in those of the commander of the Eoman armies of the south. Nero saw at once the full importance of the crisis. The two sons of Hamilcar were now within two hundred miles of each other, and if Eome were to be saved, the brothers mubt never meet alive. Nero instantly ordered seven thousand picked men, a thousand being cavalry, to hold themselves in readi- ness for a secret expedition against one of Hannibal's garrisons, and as soon as night had set in, he hurried forward on his bold enterprise ; but he quickly left the southern road toward Lucania, and, wheeling round, pressing northward with the utmost rapidity toward Picenum. He had, during tlie preceding afternoon, sent messengers to Eome, who were to lay Hasdrubal's letters before the senate. There was a law, forbidding a consul to make war or march his army beyond the limits of the province assigned to him; but in such an emergency, Nero did not wait for the permission of the senate to execute his project, but informed them that he was already on his march to join Livius against Hasdrubal. He ad- vised them to send the two legions which formed the home garri- son on to Narnia, so as to defend that pass of the Flaminian road against Hasdrubal, in case he should march upon Eome before the consular armies could attack him. They were to supply the place of these two legions at Eome by a levy en masse in the city and by ordering up the reserve legion from Capua. These were nis communications to the senate. He also sent horsemen forward along his line of march, with orders to the local authorities to bring stores of provisions and refreshments of every kind to the road- side, and to have relays of carriages ready for the conveyance of the wearied soldiers. *Such were the precautions which he took for accelerating his march ; and when he had advanced some little distance from his camp, he brietly informed his soldiers of the real object of their expedition. He told them that never was there a design more seemingly audacious and more really safe. He said he was leading them to a certain victory, for his colleague had an army large enough to balance the enemy already, so that iheir swords would decisively turn the scale. The very rumor that a fresh consul and a fresh army had com ujj, when heard on the battle-field (and he would take care that they should not be heard of before they were seen and felt\ wouki settle the business. They would have all the credit o^the victory, and of having dealt BA TTLE OF THE MET A UB US. 95 the final decisive blow. lie appealed to the enthusiastic reception which they already met with on their line of march as a proof and an omen of their good fortune.* And, indeed, their whole path was amid the vows, and prayers, and praises of their countrymen. The entire population of the districts through which they passed .■flocked to the roadside to see and bless the deliverers of their country. Food, drink, anJi refreshments of every kind wera eagerly pressed on their acceptance. Each peasant thought a favor was conferred on him if one of Nero's chosen band would accept aught at Lis hands. Ihe soldiers caught the full spirit of their leader. Night and day they marched forward, taking their hurried meals in the ranks, and resting by relays in the wagons which the zeal of the country people provided, and which followed in the rear of the column. Meanwhile, at Kome, the news of Nero's expedition had- caused the greatest excitement and alarm. All men felt the full audacity of the enterprise, but hesitated what epithet to apply to it. It was evident that Nero's conduct would be judged of by the event, that most unfair criterion, as the Koman historian truly terms it.f People reasoned on the perilous state in which Nero had left the rest of his army, without a general, and deprived of the core of its strength, in the vicinity of the terrible Hannibal. They specu- lated on how long it would take Hannibal to pursue and overtake Nero himself, and his expeditionary force. They talked over the former disasters of the war, and the fall of both the consuls of the last year. All the calamities had come on them while they had only one Carthaginian general and army to deal with in Italy. Now they had two Punic wars at a time. They had two Carthagi- nian armies, they had almost two Hannibals in Italy. Hasdrubal was sprung from the same father; trained up in the same hostility to Rome; equally practiced in battle against their legions; and, if the comparative speed and success with which he had crossed the Alps was a fair test, he was even a better general than his brother. With fear for their interpreter of every rumor, they exaggerated the strength of their enemy's forces in every quarter, and criticised and distrusted their own. Fortunately for Rome, while she was thus a prey to terror and anxiety, her consul's nerves were stout and strong, and he resolute- ly urged on his march toward Sena, where his colleague Livius and the praetor Porcius were encamped, Hasdrubal's army being in position about half a mile to their north. Nero had sent couriers forward to apprise his colleague of his project and of his ap- proach; and by the advice of Livius, Nero so timed his final march as to reach the camp at Sena by night. According to a. previous * Llvy, li]3. xxvll,, c. 45. T " Aflparebat (quo nlMl inlquius est) ex eventu famam hatolturum."-. LiVY, lib. xxvii., c. 44. 96 DECISIV:t: BATTLES. arrangement, Nero's men -were received silently into tlie tents of their comrades, eucli according to liis rank. By these means there vms no enlargement of the camp that conld betray to Hasdrubal the accession of force which the Romans had received. This was con- siderable, as Nero's numbers had been increased on the march by the volunteers, who otiered themselves in crowds, and from whom he selected the most promisiDg men, and especially the veterans of former campaigns. A council of war was held on the morning after his arrival, in which some advised that time should be given for Nero's men to refresh themselves after the fatigue of such a march. But Nero vehemently opposed all delay. " The officer," said he, "who is for giving time to my menrhere to rest themselves, is for giving time to Hannibal to attack my men, whom I have left in the camp in Apulia. He is for giving time to Hannibal and Hasdrubal to discover my march, and to maneuver for a junction with each other in Cisalpine Gaul at their leisure. We must light instantly, while both the foe here and the foe in the south are ignor- ant of olir movements. We must destroy this Hasdrubal, and I must be back in Apulia before Hannibal awakes from his torpor."* Nero's advice prevailed. It was resolved to fight directly, and be- fore the consul and prt^tor left the tent of Livius, the red ensign, which was the signal to prepare for immediate action, was hoisted, and the Eomansibrthwith drew up in battle array outside the camp. Hasdrubal had been anxious to bring Livius and Porcius to bat- tle, though he had not judged it expedient to attack them in their lines. And now, on hearing that the Eomans otfered battle, h^ also drew up his men and advanced toward thorn. No spy or de- serter had informed him of Nero's arrival, nor had he receiyed any direct information that he had more than his old enemies to deal with. But as he rode forward to reconnoiter the Eoman line, ha fliought that their numbers seemed to have increased, and that the ainior of some of them was unusually dull and stained. He noticed, also, that the horses of some of the cavalry appeared to be rough and out of condition, as if they had just come from a suc- cession of forced marches. So also, though, owing to the precau- tion of Livius, the Eoman camp showed no change of size, it had not escaped the quick ear of the Carthaginian general that the trumpet which gave the signal to the Eoman legions sounded that morning once oftener than usual, as if directing the troops of some additional superior officer. Hasdrubal, from his Spanish campaigns, was well acquainted with all the sounds and signals of Eoman war, and from all that he heard and saw, he felt convinced that both the Eoman consuls were before him. In doubt and dif- ficulty as to what might have taken place between the armies of the south, and probably hoping that Hannibal also was approach- ing, Hasdrubal determined to avoid an encounter with the com- ' * Liv}-, lib. xx%'ll., c.46. JBA TTL E OF THE 3IETA UR U8. 97 bincd Koman forces, and to endeavor to retreat npon Insubrian Gaul, where he would be in a friendly country, and could endeavor to re-open his communication with his brother. He therefore led his troops back into their camp ; and as the Komans did not ven- ture on an assault upon his entrenchments, and Hasdrubal didnoi choose to commence his retreat in their sight, the cJay passed away in inaction. At the first watch of the night, Hasdrubal led his men silently out of their camp^ and moved northward toward the Metau- rus, in the hope of placing that river between himself and the Ro- mans before his retreat was discovered. His guides betrayed him : and having purposely led him away from the part of the river that was fordable, they made their escape in the dark, and left Hasdru- bal and his army wandering in confusion along the steep bank, and seeking in vain for a spot where the stream could be safely crossed. At last they halted ; and when day dawned upon them, Hasdrubal found that great numbers of his men, in their fatigue and impatience, had lost all discipline and subordination, and that many of his Gallic auxiliaries had got drunk, and were lying helpless in their quarters. The Eoman cavalry were soon seen coming up in pursuit, followed at no great distance by the legions, which marched in readiness for an instant engagement. It was hopeless for Hasdrubal to think of continuing his retreat before them. The prospect of immediate battle might recall the disor- dered part of his troops to a sense of duty, and revive the instinct of discipline. He therefore ordered his men to prepare for action instantly, and made the best arrangement of them that the nature of the ground would permit. Heeren has well described the general appearance of a Carthagi- nian army. He says, "It was an assemblage of the most opposite races of the human species from the farthest parts of the globe. Hordes of half-naked Gauls were ranged next to companies of white-clothed Iberians, and savage Ligurians next to the far-trav- eled Nasamoni( s and Lotophagi. Carthaginians and Phenici- Africans formed the center, while innumerable troops ofNumidian horsemen, taken from all the tribes of the desert, swarmed about on unsaddled horses and formed the wings ; the van was com- posed of Balearic slingers ; and a line of colossal elephants, with their Ethiopian guides, formed, as it were, a chain of moving for- tresses before the whole army." Such were the usual materials and arrangements of t!ie hosts that fought for Carthage; but the troops under Hasdrubal were not in all respects thus constituted or thus stationed. He seems to have been especially deficient in cavalry, and he had few African troops, though some Carthaginians of high rank were with him. His veteran Spanish infantry, armed with helmets and shields, and short cut-and-thrust swords, were the best part of his army. These, and his few Africans, he drew up on his right wing, under his own personal command. In tho center he placed his Ligurian infantry, and oo the left wing hd D.B.-4 _ ' 98 DECISIVE BATTLES. placed or retained the Ganls, vr\\o were armed with long javelins and with huge broad swords and targets. The rugged nature of the grotmd in front and on the llank of this part of his line made him hope that the luuuan right wing would b.^ unable to eoiuo to close quarters with these unserviceable barbarians before he could make some impression with his Spanish veterans on the lloman left. This was the only chance that he had of victory or safety, ftnd he seems to have done every thing that good generalship could do to secure it. He placed his elephants in advance of lis center and right wing. He had caused the driver of each of them to be provided with a sharp iron spike and a mallet, and had given orders that every beast that became unman igeable, and ran back npon his own r.inks. should be instantly killed, by driving the spike into the vertebra at the junction of the head and the spine. HasdrubaVs elephants were ti.n in number. AVo' have no trust- worthy information as to the amount of his infantry, but it is quite clear that he was greatly outnumbered by the combined Homan forces. The tactic of the Eouinn legions had not yet acquired that perfection which it received Irom the military genius of Marius, and which we read of in the tirst chapter of Oxibbon. We pos- sess in that great work, an account of the Eoman legions at the end of the commonwealth, and during the earlj'' ages of the em- pire, which those alone can adequately admire who have attempted ft similar description. We have also, in the sixth and seven- teenth books of Folybius, an elaborate discussion on the military system of the Eomans in his time, which was not far distant from tlie time of the battle of the JMotaurus. But the subject is beset with difficulties ; and instead of entering into minute but inconclusive details, I would refer to Gibbons first chapter as serving for a general description of the l\oman army in its period of x^erfection, and remark, that the tr.dning and armor which the whole legion received in the time ot" Augustus was, two centuries eiU'lier, only partially introduced. Two divisions of troops, called Hastati and rrincipes, formed the bulk of each Eoman legion in the second Punio war. Each of these divisions was twelve hun- dred strong. The Hastatus and the Princeps legionary bore a breast-plate or coat of mail, brazen greaves, and a brazen helmet, with a lofty upright crest of scarlet or black feathers. He had a large oblong shield ; and, as weapons of otiense, two javelins, one of which was light and slender, but^the other was a strong and massive weapon, with a shaft about four feet long, and an iron head of equal length. The sword was carried on the right thigh, and was a short cut-and-thrust weapon, like that which * "Most probablj' cluringrthe period ot his proloncred consulslii'\ fiotu b. c "04 to B c. 101, while he was tramiug- Ms arm;>- ogiiiust the cinibri iuid the Yeyton§. BA TTLE OF THE MET A UR US. 99 vr&a used by the Spaniards. Thus armed, the Hastati formed tlie front divinion of the l(;gion, and the Principes the second. Eac;h diviBion wus drawn uj) about ton deep, a Hj^ace of three feet boing allowed between the lilos as well as the ranks, so as to give each higionary ample room for the uso of the javelins, and of his sword and shield. The men in the second rank did not stand immfdiately behind those in the first rank, but the files were alternate, like the position of the men on a draught-board. This was termed the quincunx order. Miebuhr considers that this arrangement enabled the legion to keep up a shower of jave- lins on the enemy for some considerable time. He says, "When the first line had hurled its jjila, it i)robably stepjjed back be- tween those who stood behind it, and two steps forward restored tlie front nearly to its first position ; a movement which, on ac- count of the arrangement of the quincunx, could be executed without losing a moment. Thus one line succeeded the other in the front till it was time to draw the swords ; nay, when it was found expedient, the lines which had already been in the front might repeat this change, since the stores of i)ila were surely not confined to the two which each soldier took with him into battle. " The same change must have taken place in fighting with the sword, which, when the same tactic was adopted on both sides, was anything but a confused melee ; on the contrary, it was a series of single combats." He adds, that a military man of experience had been consulted by him on the subject, and had given it as his opinion " tiiat the change of the lines as described above was by no means impracticable ; but in the absence of the deafening noise of gunpowder, it cannot have had any difficulty with well-trained trooj^s. " The third division of the legion was six hundred strong, and acted as a reserve. It was always composed of veteran Koldiers, who were called the Triarii. Their arms were the same as those of the Principes and Hastati, except that each Triarian carried a spear instead of javelins. The rest of the legion consisted of light-armed troops, who acted as «8kirmishers. The cavalry of each legion was at this period about three hundred strong. The Italian allies, who were attached* to the legion, seemed to have been similarly armed and equipped, but their numerical proportion of cavalry was much larger. Such was the nature of the forces that advanced on the Koman side to the battle of the Metaurus. Nero commanded the right wing, Livius the left, and the praetor Porcius had the command of the center. " Both Eomans and Carthaginians well understood how much depended upon the fortune of this day, and how little hope of safety there was for the vanquished. Only the Eomans herein seemed to have had the better in conceit and opinion that they were to fight with men desirous to have fled from them ; and according to this prceumption came Livius the consul, with a 100 DECISIVE BATTLES. proud bravery, to give charge on the Spaniards and Africans, by ■s^-hom he was so sharply entertained that the victory seemed very doubtful. The Africans and Spaniards vrere stout soldiers, and well acquainted with the manner of the Eoman fight. The Ligurians, also, were a hardy nation, and not accustomed to give ground, which they needed the less, or were able now to do, being placed in the midst. Livius, therefore, and Porcius found great opposition; and with great slaughter on both sides jjrevailed little or nothing. Besides other difficulties, they wero exceedingly troubled by the elephants, that brake their first ranks, and piit them in such disorder as the E,oman ensigns were driven to fall back ; all this while Claudius Nero, laboring in vain against a steep hill, was unable to come to blows with the Gauls that stood opposite him, ?jut out of danger. This made Hasdrubal the more confident, who, seeing his own left wing safe, did the more boldly and fiercely make impression on the other side upon the left wing of the Eomans."* But at last Nero, who found that Hasdrubal refused his left wing, and who could not overcome the difiiculties of the ground in the quarter assigned to him, decided the battle by another stroke of that military genius which had inspired his march. Wheeling a brigade of his best men round the rear of the rest of the Koman army, Nero fiercely charged the flank of the Spaniards and Africans. The charge was as success^ful as it was sudden. Eolled back in disorder upon each other, and overwhelmed by numbers, the Spaniards and Ligurians died, fighting gallantk: to -the last. The Gauls, who had taken little or no part in the strife of the day, were then surrounded, and butchered almost without resistance. Hasdrubal, after having, by the confession of his en- emies, done all that a general could do, when he saw that the vic- tory was irreparably lost, scorning to survive the gallant host which he had led, and to gratify, as a captive, Boman cruelty and pride, spurred his horse into the midst of a Bomaa cohort, and, sword in hand, met the death that was worthy of the son of Hamil- car and the brother of Hannibal. Success the most complete had crowned Nero's enterprise. Ee- turning as rapidly as he had advanced, he was again facing the inactive enemies in the south before they even knew ot" his march. But he brought with him a ghastly trophy of what he had done. In the true spirit of that savage brutality which deformed the Eoman national character, Nero ordered Hasdrubal's head to be flung into his brother's camp. Ten years had passed since Han- nibal had last gazed on those features. The sons of Hamilcarhad then planned their s^'stem of warfare against Eome, which they had so ne?'-ly brought to successful accomplishment. Year after year liid Hnnnibal been struggling in Italy, in the hope of one * •■ Kistorie oi: the World," by Sir Wulter Baleigli, p 94S. SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. lOi day hailing tlie arrival of him Ayliom lie had left in Spain, and oi ., seeing his brother's eye flash with aflfection and pride at the junc- , ^ tion of their irresistible hosts. He now saw that eye glazed in death, and in the agony of his heart the great Carthaginian groaned ^ aloud that he recognized his country's destiny. Meanwhile, at the tidings of the great battle, Rome at onco rose ';^ from the thrill of anxiety and terror to the full confidence of -, , triumph. Hannibal might retain his hold on Southern Italy for a few years Ion ger, but the imperial city and her allies were no longer ( in danger from his arms; and, after Hannibal's downfall, the r;^ great military republic of the ancient world met in her career of conquest no other worthy competitor. Byron has termed Nero s march "unequalled," and, in the magnitude cf its consequences, it .s f:o. Viewed only as a military exploit, it remains unparalleled save by Marlborough's bold march from Flanders to the Danube in the campaign of Blenheim, and perhaps also by the Archduke Charles's lateral march in 1796, by which he overwhelmed the French under Jourdain, and then, driving Moreau through the Black Forest and across the Bhine, for awhile freed Germany from her invaders. Synopsis of Events between the Battle op the IVIetaukus, b. c . 207, AND Aeminius's Victory oveb the Eoman Legions under Varitjs, a. d. 9. B. C. 205 to 201. Scipio is made consul, and carries the war into Africa. He gains several victories there, and the Carthaginians recall Hannibal from Italy to oppose him. Battle of Zama in 201. Hannibal is defeated, and Carthage sues for peace. End of the second Punic war, leaving Bome confirmed in the dominion of Italy, Sicily, Sardinia, and Corsica, and also mistress of great part of Spain, and virtually predominant in North Africa, 200. Bome makes war upon Philip, king of Macedonia. She pretends to take the Greek cities of the Achaean league and the ^tolians under her protection as allies. Philip is defeated by the proconsul Flamininus at Cynoscephalee, 198, and begs for peace. The Macedonian influence is now completely destroyed in Greece, and the Boman established in its stead, though Bome pretends to acknowledge the independence of the Greek cities. 194. Bome makes war ujjon Antiochus, king of Syria. He is completely defeated at the battle of Magnesia, 192, and is glad to accept peace on conditions which leave him dependent upon Bome. 200-190. "Thus, within the short space of ten years, was laid the foundation of the Boman authority in the East, and the gen- eral state of affairs entirely changed. If Bome was not yet th« 102 DECISIVE BATTLES. nilev, slie was at least the arbitress of the Trorki from the Atlantic to the Euphrates. The power of the three principal states was so completely humbled, that they durst not, without the permission of Kome, begin any new war ; the fourth, Egypt, had already, in the Year 201, placed herself under the guardianship of Home ; and the lesser powers followed of themselves, esteeming it an honor to be called the allies of Bonie. AVith this name the nations were lulled into security, and brought under the Roman yoke ; the new political sytstem of Eome was founded and strengthened, partly by exciting and supporting the weaker states against the stronger, however unjust the cause of the former might be; and partly by factions which she foiind means to raise in every state, even the smallest." — ( hkeken.) 172. War renewed between Macedon and Eome. Decisive de- feat of Perses, the Macedonian king, by Paulus .^milius at Pydna IGS. Destruction of the Macedonian monarch}'. 150. Eome oppresses the Carthaginians till tliey are driven to take up arms, and the third Punic war begins. Carthage is taken and destroyed by Scipio ^milianus, l-iO, and the Carthaginian territory is made aEomaii province. 1-46. In the same year in whicli Carthage falls, Corinth is stormed by the Eoman army under Mummius. The Achjean league had been goaded into hostilities with Eome by means similar to those employed against Carthage. The greater part of Southern Greece is made a Eoman province Tinder the name of Achaia. 133. Numantium is destroyed by Scipio .Emilianus. "The war against the Spaniards, who, of all the nations subdued by the Eomans, defended their liberty with the greatest obstinacy, began in the year 200, six years after the total expulsion of the Carthagi- ni;ms from their country, 206. It wa-s exceedingly obstinate, partly from the natural state of the country, which was thickly popu- lated, and where every place became a fortress ; partly trom the courage of the inhabitants ; but above all, owing to the peculiar policy of the Eomans, who were wont to employ their allies to subdue other nations. This war continued, almost without interruption, from the year 200 to 133, and was for the most part carried on at the same time in Hispania Citerior, where the Celtiberi were the most formidable adversaries, and in Hispania Ulterior, where the Lusitani were equally powerful. Hostilities were at the highest pitch in 195, under Cato, who reduced Hispania Citerior to ti state of tranquillity in 185-179, when the Celtiberi were attacked in their nati^e territory and 155--150, when the Eomans in both prov- inces were so often beaten, that nothing was more divaded l)y the soldiers at home than to be sent there. The extortions and perfidy of Servius Galba placed Yiriathus, in the year 14:6, at the head of his nation, the Lusitani : the war, however, soon extended itself to Hispania Citerior, where many nations, particularly the Numan- tines, took up arms against Eome, 143. Viriathus, sometimes victo- SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 103 rius and sometimes defeated, was never more formidable than in the moment of defeat, because he knew how to take advantage of his knowledge of the country and of the dispositions of his countrymen. After his murder, caused Vjy the treachery of Caepio, 140. Lusitania was subdued ; but the Numantine war became still more violent, and the Numantines compelled the consul Mansinus to a disad- vantageous treaty, 137. When Scipio, in the year 133, put an end to this war, Spain was certainly tranquil ; the northern parts, how- ever, were still unsubdued, though the Romans penetrated as far •HS Galatia," — (Heeeen.) 134. Commencement of the revolutionary century at Eome, i. e., from the time of the excitement produced by the attempts made by the Gracchi to reform the commonwealth, to the battle of Ac- tium (B.C. 31), which established Octavianus Caesar as sole master of the Roman world. Throughout this period Rome was engaged in important foreign wars, most of which procured large accessions to her territory. 118-106. The Jugurthine war. Numidia is conquered, and made a Roman conquest. 113-101. The great and temble war of the Cimbri and Teutones against Rome. These nations of northern warriors slaughter sev- eral Roman armies in Gaul, and in 102 attempt to penetrate into Italy. The military genius of Marius here saves his countx-y ; he defeats the Teutones near Aix, in Provence ; and in the following year he destroys the army of the Cimbri, who had passed the Alps, near Vercellse. 91-88. The war of the Italian allies against Rome. This was caused by the refusal of Rome to concede to thorn the rights of Roman citizenship. After a sanguinary struggle, Rome gradually concedes it. 89-85. First war of the Romans against Mithradates the Great king of Pontus, who had overrun Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Greece. Sylla defeats his armies, and forces him to withdraw his forces from Europe. Sylla returns to Rome to carry on the civil war against the son and partisans of Marius. He makes himself dictator, 74-64. The last Mithradatic wars. LucuUus, and after him Pompeius, command against the great king of Pontus, who at last is poisoned by his son, while designing to raise the warlike tribes of the Danube against Rome, and to invade Italy from the north- east. Great Asiatic conquests of the Romans. Besides the ancien ■ province of Pergamus, the maritime counties of Bithynia and nearly all Paphlagonia and Pontus, are formed into a Roman province under the name of Bithynia, while on the southern coast Cilicia and Pamphylia form another under the name of Cilicia ; Phenicia and Syria compose a third under the name of Syria. On the other hand, Great Armenia is left to Tigranes ; Cappadocia to Ariobarzanes ; the Bosphorus to Plxamaces ; Judaea to Hyrcanus ; 104 PEcr^rris; .BATTLES, nnd some oiher s^mall states are also given to petty princes, all of whom renirtiu dopoudont on Eomo. r>8~-o0. 0;vs!\r oouquoi-s Gaul. 54. Cmssus attaoks the Tartliijuis vritli a Eoman army, but 14 overtlirv^wn and killed at Carrhiv ii\ Mesopotamia. His lieutenant Cassius eolleots the \vreoks of the army, and prevents the Partliians from oonquerinjz Syria. 4iM^. The civil war between C;vsar and the Pompeian party. Ei»\-pt. Mauritania, luid Pontus are involved in the consequences of this war. 44:. Ci^Siur is killed in the Capitol ; the civil wars are soon re- newed. 4*2. Death of Brutas and Cassius at Philippi. 31. Death of Antony tmd Cleopatrj\. Egypt becomes a Eoman province, ivnd Augustus Caesar is left undisputed master of Kome, and all that is Eome's. CIiAPTEE \. TICTOBY OF ASMIXTTS OTEE THE KOMAN LEGIONS TTNDXB TABUS, A.D. i>. / Hac clade factum ut Impertum. quod in lltore ocean! non steterat. In ripa Ithenl fiuminis staret^^FLonrs. To a truly illustrious Frenchman, whose reverses as a minister can never obscure his achievements in the world of letters, we are indebted for the most profound and most eloquent estimate that we possess of the importance of the Crermanic element in European civilization, t\nd of the extent to which the human race is indebted to those brave warriors whl) long were the ud conquered antago- nists, and finally became the conquerers. of imperial Eome. Twenty-three eventful years have passed away since M. Guizot delivered from the chair of modern history at Paris his course of lectures on the history of Civilization in Europe. During those years the spirit of earnest inquiry into the germs and primary de- velopments of existing institutions has become more ;\nd more active and universal, and the merited celebrity of M. Guizot s work has proportionally increased. Its admirable analysis of the com- plex politicjU and social orgt^nizations of which the modern civil- ized world is made up. must have led thousands to trace with keener interest the great crises of times past, by which the char- acteristics of the present were determined. The narrative of one of these great crises, of the epoch a. p. 9. when Germtvny took up fU'ms for her independence agiunst Koman invasion, lias for us V VICTORY OF AnMimUS. 105 this special attraction — that it forms x^art of our o-wn national his- tory. Had Arminius been supine or unsuccessful, our Germanic ancestors would have been enslaved or exterminated in the'ir original seats along the Eyder and the Elbe. This island would nerer have borne the name of England, and "we, this great Eng- lish nation, whose race and language are now overrunning the earth, from one end of it to the other,"* would have been utterly cut off from existence. Arnold may, indeed, go too far in holding that we are wholly unconnected in race with the Romans and Britons who inhabited this country before the coming over of the 8axons; that, " nation- ality speaking, the history of Caesar's invasion has no more to do with us than the natural history of the animals which then inhabited our forests," There seems ample evidence to jjrove that the Homanized Celts whom our TeuVjnic forefathers found here influenced materially the character of our nation. But the main stream of our people was and is Germanic. Our language alone decisively jjroves this. Arminius is far more truly one of our national heroes than Caractacus; and it was our own primeval fatherland that the brave German rescued when he slaughtered the Reman legions eighteen centuries ago, in the marshy glens between the Lippe and the Ems.f / Dark and disheartening, even to heroic spirits, must have seemed the jjrospects of Germany when Arminius T>lanned the general rising of his countrymen against Rome. Half the land was occu- pied by Roman garrisons; and, what was worse, many of the Germans seemed patiently acquiescent in their state of bondage. The braver portion, whose patriotism could be relied on, was ill armed and undisciplined, while the enemy's troops consisted of veterans in the highest state of equipment and training, familiar- ized with victory, and commanded by officers of proved skill and valor. The resources of Rome seemed boundless ; her tenacity of purpose was believed to be invincible. There was no hope of . foreign sympathy or aid ; for "the self-governing powers that had filled the Old World had bent one after another before the rising power of Rome, and had vanished. The earth seemed left void of independent nations. J:. The German chieftain Imew well the gigantic power of the op- pressor, Arminius was no rude savage, fighting out of mere animal instinct, or in ignorance of the might ot his adversary. He was familiar with the Roman language and civilization ; he had serv^ed in the Roman armies ; he had been admitted to the Roman citizen- ship, and raised to the rank of the equestrian order. It was part of the subtle policy of Rome to confer rank and privileges on the ♦Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History." 1 See p(Mit, remarks on the relationsMp betwewi tlie Cheru^c and the Eng' 106 DECISIVE BATTLES. youth of the leading families in the nations which she wished to enslave. Among otuer young German chieftains, Arminius and his brother, who were the heads of the noblest house in the tribe of the Cherusci, had been selected as lit objects for the exercise of this insidious system. Koman refinements and dignities succeed- ed in denationalizing the brother who assumed the Eoman name of Flavius, and adhered to Rome throughout all her wars against his country. Arminius remained unbought by honors or wealth, uncorrupted by refinement or luxury. He aspired to and obtained from Homan enmity a higher title than ever could have been given him by Roman favor. It is in the page of Rome's greatest historian that his name has come down to us with the proud addition of "Liberator haud dubie Germaniae."* Often must the yoiing cheiftain, while meditating the exploit which has thus immortalized him, have anxiously revolved in his mind the fate of the many great men who had been crushed in the attempt which he was abo-ut to renew — the attempt to stay the chariot-wheels of triumphant Rome. Could he hope to succeed where Hannibal and Mithradates had perished? What had been the doom of Yiriathus? and what warning against vain valor was written on the desolate site where Numantia once had flourished ? Nor was a caution wanting in scenes nearer home and more recent times. The Giuls had fruitlessly struggled for eight years against Cffisar; and the gallant Vercingetorix, who in the last year of the war had roused all his countrymen to insurrection, who had cut off Roman detachments, and brought Caesar himself to the extreme of peril at Alesia — he, too, had finally succumbed, had been led captive in Caesars triumph, and had then been butchered in cold blood in a Roman dungeon. It was true that Rome was no longer the great military republic which for so many ages had shattered the kingdoms of the world. Her system of government was changed; and after a centiiry of revolution and civil war, she had placed herself under the despot- ism of a single ruler. But the discipline of her troops was yet un- impaired, and her warlike spirit seemed unabated. The first year" of the empire had been signalized by conquests as valuable as any gained by the republic in a corresponding period. It is a great fallacy, though apparently sanctioned by great authorities, to sup» pose that the foreign policy pursued by Augustus was pacific; he certainly recommended such a policy to his successors {inrertum metu an per invidiam, Tac, Ann.,i., IV, but he himself, until Ar- minius broke his spirit, had followed a very different course. Besides his Spanish wars, his generals, in a series of generally aggressive campaigns, had extended the Roman frontier from the Alps to the Danube, and had reduced into subjection the large and important countries that now form the territories of all Austria * Tacitus, 'Annals," ii., ss. VICTOBY OF ABMimUS. W sontli of that river, and of East Switzerland, Lower Wirtemberg Bavaria, the ValtelJine, and the Tyrol. While the progress of the Koman arms thus pressed the Germans from the south, still more formidable inroads had been made by the imperial legions on the ■west. Eoman armies, moving from the province of Gaul, estab- lished a chain of fortresses along the right as \vell as the left bank of the Khine, and, in a series of victorious campaigns, advanced their eagles as far as the Elbe, which now seemed added to the list of vassal rivers, to the Nile, the Rhine, the Ehone, the Danui e, the Tagus, the Seine, and many more, that acknowledged the supremacy of the Tiber. Eoman fleets also, sailing from the harbors of Gaul along the German coasts and up the estuaries, co-operated ■with the land-forces of the empire, and seemed to display, even more decisively than her armies, htr overwhelming superiority over the rude Germanic tribes. Throughout the territory thus in- vaded, the Romans had, with their usual military skill, established fortified posts ; and a powerful army of occupation ■was kept on foot, ready to move instantly on any spot where any popular out- break might be attempted. Vast, however, and admirably organized as the fabric of Eoman power appeared on the frontiers and in the provinces, there ■was rottenness at the core. In liome's unceasing hostilities with foreign foes, and still more in her long series of desolating civil wars, the free middle classes of Italy had almost wholly disappeared. Above the position which they had occupied, an oligarchy of wealth had reared itself ; beneath that position, a degraded mass of poverty and misery was fermenting. Slaves, the chance sweep- ings of every conquered country, shoals of Africans, Sardinians, Asiatics, Illyrians, and others, made up the bulk of the population of the Italian peninsula. The foulest profligacy of manners was general in all ranks. In universal weariness of revolution and civil war, and in consciousness of being too debased for self-gov- ernment, the nation had submitted itself to the absolute authority of Augustus. Adulation was now the chief function of the senate; and the gifts of genius and accomplishments of art were devoted to the elaboration of eloquently false panegyrics upon the prince and his favorite courtiers. With bitter indignation must the Ger- man chieftain have beheld all this, and contrasted with it the rough worth of his own countrymen: their bravery, their fidelity to their word, their manly independence of spirit, their love oi their national free institutions, and their loathing of every pollu- tion and meanness. Above all, he must have thought of the domestic virtues that hallo^wed a German home; of the respect there shown to the female character, and of the pure affection by which that respect was repaid. His soul must have burned within him at the contemplation of such a race yielding to these debaised Italians. &till, to persuade the Germans to combine, in spite of their 108 DECISIVE £ATTLm. frequent fends among themselves, in one sudden outbreak against Kome: to keep the scheme concealed from the Eomans until the hour for action arrived; and then, without possessing a single walled town, without military stores, without training, to teach his insurgent countrj^men to defeat veteran armies and storm for- tifications, seemed so perilous an enterprise, that probably Armin- ius would have receded from it had not a stronger feeling even than patriotism urged him on. Among the Germans of high rank who had most readily submitted to the invaders, and become zeal- ous partisans of Roman authority, was a chieftain named Segestes. His daughter, Thusnelda, was pre-eminent among the noble maidens of Germany. Arminius had sought her hand in marriage; but Segestes, who probably discerned the young chiefs disaffection to Home, forbade his suit, and strove to preclude all communica- tion between him and his daughter. Thusnelda, however, sym- pathized far more with the heroic spirit of her lover than with the time-serving policy of her father. An elopement baffled the pre- cautions of Segestes, who, disappointed in his hope of preventing the marriage, accused Arminius before theBoman governor of hav- ing carried off his daughter, and of planning treason against Eome. Thus assailed, and dreading to see his bride torn from him by the officials of the foreign oppressor, Arminius delayed no longer, but bent all his energies to organize and execute a general insurrec- tion of the great mass of his countrymen, who hitherto had sub- mitted in sullen hatred to the Eoman dominion. A change of governors had recently taken place, which, while it materially favored the ultimate success of the insurgents, served, by the immediate aggravation of the Eoman oppressions which it produced, to make the native population more universally eager to take arms. Tiberius, who was afterward emperor, had recently been recalled from the command in Germany, and sent into Pan- Uonia to put down a dangerous revolt which had broken out ligainst the Romans in that province. The German patriots were thus delivered from the stern supervision of one of the most suspi- cious of mankind, and were also relieved from having to contend against the high military talents of a veteran commander, who thoroughly understood their national character, and also the na- ture of the country, which he himself had principally subdued. In the room of Tiberius, Augustus sent into Germany Quintilius Varus, who had lately returned from the proconsulate of Syria. Varus was a true representative of the higher classes of the Ro- mans, among whom a general taste for literature, a keep suscepti- bility to all intellectual gratifications, a minute acquaintance with the principles and practice of their own national jurisprudence, a 'careful training in the schools of the rhetoricians and a fondness for either partaking in or watching the intellectual strife of foren- sic oratory, had become generally diffused, without, however, iiaving humanized the old Roman spirit of cruel indifference for nCTOBY OF ABMINIUS. 109 human feelings and human sufferings, and without acting as the least checks on principled avarice and ambition, or on habitual and gross profligacy. Accustomed to govern the depraved and debased natives of Syria, a country where courage m man and virtue in woman had for centuries been unknown, Varus thought that he might gratify his licentious and rapacious passions with equal impunity among the high-minded sons and pure-spirited daughters of Germany.* When the general of an army sets the example of outrages of this description, he is soon faithfully imi- tated by his oflacers, and surpassed by his still more brutal sol- diery. The Komans now habitually indulged m those violations of the sanctity of the domestic shrine, and those insults upon honor and modesty, by which far less gallant spirits than those of our Teutonic ancestors have often been maddened into insurrec- tion. Arminius found among the other German chiefs many wlio sympathized with him in his indignation at their country's abase- ment, and many whom private wrongs had stung yet more deeply. There was little difidculty in collecting bold leaders' for an attack on the oppressors, and little fear of the population not rising readily at those leaders' call. But to declare open war against Kome, and to encounter Varus's army in a pitched battle, would have been merely rushing upon certain destruction. Varus had three legions under him, a force which, after allowing for detach- ments, cannot be estimated at less than fourteen thousand Koman infantry. Ho had also eight or nine hundred Koman cavalry, and at least an equal number of horse and foot sent from the allied states, or raised among other provincials who had not received the Roman franchise. It was not merely the number, but the quality of this force that made them formidable ; and, however contemptible Varus might be as a general, Arminius well knew how admirably the Eoman *I cannot forlDear quoting Macaulay's beautiful lines, where tie de- scribes how similar outrages in the early times of Borne goadea tne ple- beians to rise against the patricians : "Heap heavier still the fetters ,• bar closer still the grate ; Patient as sheep we yield us up unto your cruel hate. But by the shades beneath us, and by the gods above, Add not unto your cruel hate your still more cruel love. * * * * Then leave the poor plebeian his single tie to llf e— The sweet, sweet love of daughter, of sister, and of wife, The gentle speech, the balm for all that his vex'd soul endures, The kiss in which he half forgets even such a yoke as yours. Still let the maiden's beauty swell the father's breast with pride ; Still let the bridegroom's arms enfold an unpolluted bride. Spare us the inexpiable wrong, the unutterable shame, ^ ^ ^ That turns the coward's heart to steel, tne sluggard's blood to flame ; Lesb when our latest hope Is fled ye taste of oiir despair. And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched dare. 110 DECISIVJE BATTLES. armies vt^ere organized and ofl&cered, and how perfectly the legion* aries \inderstood every maneuver and every duty which the vary- ing emergencies of a stricken field might require. Ptratagem was, therefore, indispensable ; and it was necessary to blind Varus to their schemes \intil a favorable opportunity t'^hould arrive for strik- ing a decisive blow. For this purpose, the German confederates frequented the head- quarters of Varus, which seem to have been near the center of the modern country of "Westphalia, where the Roman general conduct- ed himself with all the arrogant secTirity of the .ijovernor of a per- fectly submissive province. There Variis gratified at once his vanity, his rhetorical tastes, and his avarice, by holding courts, to which he summoned the Germans for the settlement of all their disputes, while a bar of Roman advocates attended to argue the cases before the tribunal of Varus, who did not omit the opportU' nity of exacting court-fees and accepting bribes. Varus trusted implicitly to the respect which the Germans pretended to pay to his abilities as a judge, and to the interest which they atfected to take in the forensic eloquence of their conquerers. Mejxnwhile, a succession of heavy rains rendered the country more difficult for the operations of regular troops, and Arminius, seeing that the in- fatuation of Varus was complete, secretly directed the tribes near the Weser and the Ems to take up arms in open revolt against the Romans. This was represented to Varus as an occasion Vhich re- quired his prompt attendance at the spot ; but he was kept in stud- ied ignorance of its being part of a concerted national rismr; ; and he still looked on Arminius as his submissive vassal, whose aid he might rely on in facilitating the march of his troops against the rebels, and in extinquishing the local disturbance. He thereroro set his army in motion, and marched eastward in a line parallel to the course of the Lippe. For some distance his route lay along a level plain ; but arriving at the tract between the curve of the upper part of that stream and the sources of the Ems, the country assumes a very difterent character ; and here, in the territory of the modern little principality of Lippe, it was tJiat Arminius had fixed the scene of his enterprise. A woody and hilly region intervenes between the heads of the two rivers, and forms the water-shed of their streams. This region still retains the name ( Teutoberger wald = Teutobergiensissaltus ) which it bore in the days of Arminius. The nature of the ground Jias probablj^ also remained unaltered. The eastern part of it, i?ound Detmold, the modern capital of the principality of l.ippe, is described by a modern German scholar. Dr. Plite, as being a "table-land intersected by numerous deep and narrow valleys, which in some places form small plains, surrounded by steep mountains and rocks, and only accessible by narrow defiles. All the valleys are travei'sed by rapid streams, shallow in the dry season, but subject to sudden swellings in autumn and winter. VICTORY OF ARMINIUB. Ill The vast forests which cover the summits and slopes of the hills consist chiefly of oak ; there is little underwood, and Vjoth men and horse would move with ease in the forests if the ground were not broken by gulleys, or rendered impracticable by fallen trees." This is the district to which Varus is supposed to have marched ; and Dr. Plate adds, tliat "the names of several localities on and near that spot seem to indicate that a great battle has once been fought there. We find the names ' dws Winnefeld' ( the field of victory ), * die Knochenbaljn ' ( the bone-lane ), 'die Knochenleke' ( the bone-brook ), ' der Mordkessel ' ( the kettle of slaughter), and others."* Contrary to the usual strict principles of Roman discipline, Varus had suffered his army to bo accompanied and impeded by an immense train of baggage-wagons and by a rabble of camp follow- ers, as if his trooj^s had been merely changing their quarters in a friendly country. When the long array quitted the firm level grtmnd, and began to wind its way among the woods, the marshes, and the ravines, the difficulties of the march, even without the intervention of an armed foe, became fearfully apparent. In many places, the soil, sodden with rain, was impracticable for cavalry, and even for infantry, until trees had been felled, and a rude causeway formed through the morass. The duties of the engineer were familiar to all who served in the lioman armies. But the crowd and confusion of the columns embarassed the working parties of the soldiery, and in the midst oi their toil and disorder the word was suddenly passed through their ranks that the rear guard was attacked by the barbarians. Varus resolved on pressing forward; but a heavy discharge of missiles from the woods on either flank taught him how serious was the peril, and he saw his best- men falling round him without the opportunity of retaliation; for his light-armed auxiliaries, who were principally of Germanic race, now rapidly deserted, and it was impossible to deploy the legionaries on such broken ground for a charge against the enemy. Choosing one of the most open and firm spots which they could force their way to, the Romans halted for the night; and, faithful to their national discipline and tactics, formed their camp amid the harassing attacks of the rapidly thronging foes, with the elaborate toil and systematic skill, the traces of which are impressed permanently on the soil of so many European countries, attesting the presence in the olden time of the Imp^nial eagles. On the morrow the Romans renewed their march, the veteran officers who served under Varus now probably directing the oper- ations, and hoping to find the Germans drawn up to meet them- in which case they relied on their own superior discipline and •'= 1 am indebted for mucti valuable information on this subject to my filerid, 3Ir. Henry I'earson. 112 DECISIVE BATTLES. tactics for siicli a victory as slioukl reassure tlie supremacy of Home. But Arminius was far too sage a commander to lead on liis followers, with their unwieldy broadswords and inefficient de- fensive armor, against the Ivoman legionaries, fully armed with helmet, cuirass, greaves, and shield, who were skilled to commence the conflict with a murderous volley of heavy javelins, _h\irled upon the foe when a few yards distant, and then, with their short cut-and-thrust swords, to'hcM' their way through all oppositioix, preserving the utmost steadiness and coolness, and obeying each word of command in the midst of strife and slaughter with the same precision and alertness as if upon parade.* Arminius suffered the Eomans to march out from their camp , to form first in line for action, and then in column for marching, without the show of opposition. For some disttmce Varus was allowed to move on. only harassed by slight skirmishes, but struggling with difficulty through the broken ground, the toil and distress of his men being aggravated by heavy torrents of rain, which burst upon the devoted legions, as if the angry gods of Germany were pouring out the vials of their wrath iipon the invaders. After some little time their van ai:>proached a ridge of high woody ground, which is one of the otishoots of the great Hercynian forest, and is situate between the modern villages of Driburg and Bielefeld. Arminius had caused barricades of hewn troes to be formed here, so as to add to tS<3*natiiral difficulties of the passage. Fatigue and dis- couragement now began to betray themselves in the Eoman ranks. Their line became less steady; baggage wagons were abandoned from the impossibility of forcing them along; and, as this happen- ed, many soldiers left their ranks and crowded round the wagons to secTTre the most valuable portions of their property: each was busy about his own aflairs, and purposely slow in hearing the word of command from his officers. Arminius now gave the sig- nal for a general attack. The fierce shouts of the Germans pealed through the gloom of the forests, and in thronging multitudes they assailed the flanks of the invaders* pouring in clouds of darts on the encumbered legionaries, as they struggled up the glens or floundered in the morasses, and watching every opportunity of charging through the intervals of the disjointed column, and so cutting off the commimication between its several brigades. Ar«= minius, with a chosen band of personal retainers round him. jcheered on his countrymen by voice and example. He and his; men aimed their weapons particularly at the horses of the Eoman cavalry. The wounded animals, slipping about in the mire and their own blood, threw their riders and plunged among the ranks of the legions, disordering all round them. Varus now ordered * See Gililton's aesi^ri^nicn (vol 1., cliap. i ) of the Eoman resrions in the time of Augustus! -, and see tlie description in Tacitus, "Ann./' lib. i., of the subsequent battles between Ccecina and Arminius, VICTOR T OF ABMINIUS. 113 the troops to be countermarched, in the hope of reaching the nearest iioman garrison on the Lippe.* But retreat now was as impracticable as advance; and the falling back of the Komans only augmented the courage of their assailants, and caused fiercer and more frequent charges on the flanks of the disheartened army. The lloman ofl&cer who commanded the cavalry, Kumon- ius Vala, rode off with his squadrons in the vain hope of escaping by thus abandoning his comrades. Unable to keep together, or force their way across the woods and swamps, the horsemen were overpowered in detail, and slaughtered to the last man. The Ro- man infantry still held together and resisted, but more through "the instinct of discipline and bravery than from any hope of suc- cess or escape. Varus, after being severely wounded in a charge of the Germans against his part of the column, committed suicide to avoid falling into the hands of those whom he had exasperated by his oppressions. One of the lieutenant generals of the army fell fighting ; the other surrendered to the enemy. But mercy to a fallen foe had never been a Roman virtue, and those among her legions who now laid down their arms in hojje of quarter, drank deep of the cup of suffering, which Rome had held to the lips of many a brave but unfortunate enemy. The infuriated Germans slaughtered their oppressors with deliberate ferocity, and those prisoners who were not hewn to pieces on the spot were only pre- served to perish by a more cruel death in cold blood. The bulk of the Roman army fought steadily and stubbornly, frequently repelling the masses of assailants, but gradually losing the compactness of their array, and becoming weaker and- weaker beneath the incessant shower of darts and the reiterated assaults of the vigorous and unencumbered Germans. At last, in a series of desperate attacks, the column was pierced through and through, two of the eagles captured, and the Roman host which on the y ester morning had marched forth in such pride and might, now broken up into confused fragments, either fell fighting beneath the over- powering numbers of the enemy, or perished in the swamps and woods in unavailing efforts at fiight. Few, very few, ever saw again the left bank of the. Rhine. One body of brave veterans, arraying themselves in a ring on a little mound, beat off every * The circumstances of the early part of thelsattle which Armlnius fought with cgeclna six years afterward eviaently resembled those of his battle with Varus, and the result was very near helng the same : I have therefore aflopted part of the description which Tacitus gives (' Annal., lib., L, c. 05) of the last- mentioned engagement: "Ncque tamen Armlnlus, quamquaui llbero Incursu, statim prorupit: sed ut hffisere coeno fossisque impedimenta, turbatl clrcum milites ; incertus slgnorum ordo ; utque tali In tempore slbl quisque properus, et lentse adversum mperia aures Irnimpoie Gerrnanos jubet, clamitans 'En varus, et eodem Itenim fato victse leglones! ' Slmul haec, et cum delectls sclndit agmen, equisque maxime vulnera Ingerlt ; illi sanguine suo et lubjico paludum lapsantes, excussis rectoribus, disjlcere obvios, proterere jacentes.' " lU BECISIVE BATTLES, charge of the Germnns, and prolonged their honorable resistance to the close of that dreadful day. The traces of a feeble attempt at forming a ditch and mound attested in after years the spot where the last of thellomans passed their night of suffering and despair. But on the morrow this remnant also, worn out with hunger, Wounds, and toil, was charged by the yictorious Germans, and ■^ther massacred on the spot, or offered up in fearful rites at the iltars of the deities of the old mythology of the North. A gorge in the mountain ridge, through which runs the modern toad between Paderborn and Pyrmont, leads from the spot where the heat of the battle raged to the Extersteine, a cluster of bold and grotesque rocks of sandstone, near which is a small sheet of water, overshadowed by a grove of aged trees. According to local tradition, this was one of the sacred groves of the ancient Germans, and it was here that the Eoman captives were slain in sacrifice by the victorious warriors of Arminius. * Never was a victory more decisive, never was the liberation of an oppressed people more instantaneous and complete. Through- out Germany the Eoman garrisons were assailed and cut off; and, «vithin a few weeks after Varus had fallen, the German soil was freed from the foot of an invader. At Kome the tidings of the battle were received wdth an agony of terror, the reports of which we should deem exaggerated, did they not come from Eoman historians themselves. They not only tell emphatically how great was the awe which the Eomans felt of the prowess of the Germans, if their various tribes could be brought to unite for a common purpose, f but also they reveal how weakened and debased the population of Italy had become. Dion Cassius says (lib. Ivi,, sec. 23), "Then Augustus, when he heard the calamity of Varus, rent his garment, and was in great affliction for the troops he had lost, and for terror respecting the Germans and the Gauls. And his chief alarm was, that he expected them to push on against Italy and Eome ; and there remained no Eoman youth tit for military duty that were worth speaking of, and the allied populations, that were at all serviceable, had been wasted away. Yet he prepared for the emergency as well as his means allowed ; and when none of the citizens of military age were willing to enlist, he made them cast lots, and punished by, * " Lucis propinquis laarbarie ara;, apud quas tribunes ac primorum or- dinum ceuturioue^ mactaveraut."— Tacitus, Ann., lib. i., c t>l. t It is clear that the Koiuans followed tlie policy of fomenting dissensions and wars of the Germans among themselves. See the thirty-se'cond section of the -'(jJermunla " of laeitus. where he mentions the destruction of the Bructeri by the neiynboriiig tribes; " Favore quodam ergamos deorum : nam ne speotaculo quidem pra-lii invldere ; super Ix. niillia nou arniis tel- isque Konuuils. sed quod magnitlcentius est, obleotationl ocuhsque cecide- runt. jNlaiieat qua-so, duretque gentibus, si non amor nostri, at certe odium sui : quando uigentibus imperii falls, hihil jam prajstare for tvma majiw potest quaia huatluiu discordiam." VICTOR T OF ABMimUS. 115 confiscation of goods and disfranchisement every fifth man among those under thirty-live, and every tenth man of those above that age. At h^s^, when he found that not even thus could he make many come forward, he put some of them to death. So he made a conscription of discharged veterans and of emancipated slaves, and, collecting as large a force as he could, sent it, under Tiberius, with all speed into Germany." Dion mentions, also, a number of terrific portents that were be- ''lieved to have occurred at the time, and the narration of which is not immaterial, as it shows the state of the public mind, when 8uch things were so believed in and so interpreted. The summits of the Alps were said to have fallen, and three columns of fire to have blazed up from them. In the Campus Martins, the temple of the war-god, from whom the founder of Eome had sprung, was struck by a thunderbolt. The nightly heavens glowed several times, as if on fire. Many comets blazed forth together; and fiery meteors shaped like spears, had shot from the northern quarter of the sky down into the Koman camps. It was said, too, that a statue of Victory, which had stood at a place on the frontier, point- ing the way toward Germany, had, of its own accord, turned round, and now pointed to Italy. These and other prodigies were believed by the multitude to accompany the slaughter of Varus's legions, and to manifest the anger of the gods against Home. Augustus himself was not free from superstition ; but on this occasion no supernatural terrors were needed to increase the alarm and grief that he felt, and which made him, even months after the news of the battle had arrived, often beat his head against the wall, and exclaim, " Quintilius Varus, give me back my legions." We learn this from his biographer Suetonius ; and, indeed, every ancient writer who alludes to the overthrow of Varus attests the importance of the blow against the Eoman power, and the bitter- ness with which it was felt.* The Germans did not pursue their victory beyond t^ieir own territory; but that victory secured at once and forever the inde- pendence of the Teutonic race. Rome sent, indeed, her legions, again into Germany, to parade a temporary superiority, but all hopes ©f permanent conquests were abandoned by Augustus and his suc- cessors. The blow which Arminius had struck never was forgotten. Ho* man fear disguised itself under the specious title of moderation, and the Rhine became the acknowledged boundary of the two nations until the fifth century of our era, when the Germans be- came the assailants, and carved with their conquering swords the provinces of imperial Eome into the kingdoms of modern Eu- rope. * Florus expresses Its effect most pithily : ' ' Ilac clade factum est ut Im^ gerlum quod In litore ocean! non steterat, in ripa Rheni fiuminls staret," r>j 12* 116 DECISIVE BATTLES, Akminius. I hare snicl abovo that the great Chonisoan is more truly one of our natioual horoos than Caraetaciis is. It may bo added that an Englishman is entitled to claim a closer degree of relationship with Arminins than can be claimed by any German of modern Germany, The pi*oof of this depends on the proof of four facts : first, that the Cheruscans Awre Old Saxons, or Saxons of the inte- rior of Germany ; secondly, that the Anglo-Saxons, or Saxons of the coast of Germany, were more closely akin than other Germjinh tribes ^Yere to the Cheruscan Saxons : thirdly, that the Old Saxons^- were almost exterminated by Charlemagne ; fourthly, that the Anglo-Saxons are oiir immediate ancestors. The last of these may be assumed as i\n axiom in English history. The proofs of -the other three are partly philological and partly historical. I have not space to go into them here, but they will be found in the early chapters of the great work of my friend, Pr. Eobert Gordon La- tham, on the "English Langiiage," and in the notes to his forth- coming edition of the * "Germania of TacitiTs. " It may be, however, here remarked, that the present Saxons of Germany are of the High Germanic division of the German race, whereas both the Anglo-Saxon and Old Saxon wore of the Low Germanic. Being thus the nearest heirs of the glory of Arminius, we may fairly devote more attention to his career than, in stich a work as the present, could be allowed to any individual loader : and it is interesting to trace how far his fame survived during the Middle Ages, both among the Germans of the Continent and among our- selves. It seems probable that the jealousy with which Mareboduus, the king of the Suevi and Marcomanni, regarded Arminiiis, and which ultimately broke oiit into open hostilities between those German tribes and theCherusci, prevented Arminius from leading the con- federate Germans to attack Italy after his tirst victoi-y. Perhaps he may have had the rare moderation of being content with the lib- eration of his country, without seeking to retaliate on her former oppressors. "When Tiberias marched into Germany in the year 10, Arminius was too caTitious to attack him on ground favorable to the legions, and Tiberias was too skilful to entangle his troops in the dithcult parts of the country. His march and countermarch were as unresisted as they were unproductive. A few years later, when a dangerous revolt of the Koman legions near the frontier caused their generals to find them active employment by leading them into the interior of Germany, we find Arminius again active in his country's defense. The old quarrel between him and his father-in-law,' Segestes, had broken out afresh. Segestes now called in the aid of the Roman general, Germanicus, to whom he surrendered himself ; and by his c-ontrivance, his daughter Thus- / ATiMlNim. 117 nelfla, the wife of Arminius, ajso came into the hands of the Ito-' muns, })(ihi(^ fur uflvancr^d in pr';{.;iiuncy. Rhe showed, an Tacitus relates,* more of tJie spirit of her husband than of her father, a spirit that couhl not he suhdued into tears or supplications. She ■was sent to llavf-nna, and there ^^ave hirth tf> a son. whose life wo know from an allusion in Tacitus, to have been eventful and un- happy ; hut the part of the great liistorian's work which narrated his fate has perished, and we only know from another rpiarter that the son of Aruiinius was, at the age of four years, led captive in a triumphal page-ant along the streets of Home. The high spirit of Arminius was goad';d almost into phrensy by | these bereavements. 'J'he fate of his wife, thus torn from him, and of his babe doomed to bondage even before its birth, inflamed the eloquent invectives with which he roused his countrymen against the home-traitors, and against their invaders, who thus made war upon wom^n and children. Txermanicus had marched his army to the place where Varus had perished, and had there j^aid funeral honors to the ghastly relics of his predecessor's legions that he found heaped around him.f Arminius lured him lo advance a little further into the country, and then assailed him, and fought a battle, which, by the llornan accounts, wafyi drawn one. The effect of it was to njake Gernjanicus resolve on retreating to the iJhine. He himself, with i)art of liis troops, emVjarked in some vessels on the Ems, and returned by that river, and then by sea ; but part of his forces were intrusted to a Iloman general named (.'secina, to lead them back by land to the Bhine, Arminius followed this division on its march, and fought several battles with it, in which ha inflicted heavy loss on the liomans, captured the greater part of their baggage, and would have destroyed them completely, had not his skilful system of operations Ijoen finally thwarted by the haste of Jnguiomerus, a confederate German chief, who insisted on assaulting the liomans in their camp, instead of waiting till they were entangled in the difhculties of the country, and assailing their columns on the march. In the following year the Romans were inactive, but in the year afterward Germanicus led a fresh invasion. He placed his army on shipboard, and sailed to the mouth of the Ems, where he dis- embarked, and marched to the Weser, where he encamped, prob- aljly in the neighborhood of Minden. Arminius had collected his army on the other side of the river ; and a scene occurred, which is jjowerfully told by Tacitus, and which is the subject of a beau- tiful poem by VvjA. It has been already mentioned that the brother of Arminius, like himself, had been trained up while young * " Ann.,"l.,.')7, t In the Musfjurri of Rhenish Antiquities at Bonn there Is a Roman sfj- pulchral monument, the Inscription on wlilch records that It waa erecWd to tke memory of M. Ocellus, wUo fell " iiello Vwriano, 11^ DECISIVE BATTLES. to serve in flio Korean armies ; but, unlike Arminius, lie not only refused to quit the Koman service fpr that of his country, but fought against his country -u-ith the legions of Germanicus. He had assumed the Eomr.n name of Flavius, and had gained consid- erable distinction in the Koman service, in which he had lost an eye from a wound in battle. When the Eoman outposts ap- proached the Elver Weser, Arminius called out to them from the opposite bank, and expressed a wish to see his brother. Flavins stepped forward, and Arminius ordered his own followers to retire, and requested that the archers should be removed from the Eoman bank of the river. This was done; and the brothers, who apparently had not seen each other for some years, began a con- versation from the opposite side of the stream, in which Arminius questioned his brother respecting the loss of his eye, and what battle it had been lost in, and what reward he had received for his wound. Flavins told him how the eye was lost, and men- tioned the increased pay that he had on account of its loss, and showed the collar and other military decorations that had been given him. Arminius mocked at these as badges of slavery ; and then each began to try to win the other over. Flavins boasting the power of Eome, and her generosity to the submissive • Ar- minius appealing to him in the name of their country's gods, of the mother that had borne them, and by the holy names of father- land and freedom, not to prefer being the betrayer to being the champion of his country. They soon proceeded to mutual taunts and menaces, and Flavins called aloud for his horse and his arms, that he might dash across tho river and attack his brother ; nor would he have been checked ^rom doing so, had not the Eoman general Stertinius run up to him and forcibly detained him. Ar- minius stood on the other uank threatening the renegade, and defying him to battle. I shall not be thought to need apology for quoting here the stanzas in which Praed has described this scene — a scene among the most affecting, as well as the most striking, that history sup- plies. It makes us reflect on the desolate position of Arminius, with his wife and child captives in the enemy's hands, and with his brother a renegade in arms against him. The great liberator of our German race was there, with every source of human happi- ness denied him except the consciousness of doing his duty to his country. Back, back ! he fears not foaming flood Wlio fears not steel-clad line : No warrior tliou of German blood, No brother thou of mine. Go, earn Home's chain to load thy neck, Her gems to deck thy hilt ; And blazon honor's hapless wreck WitH all the gauds of gilt. Arminius m j5ut wouldst thou have me share the prey? By all that I have done, The Varian hones that day hy day Lie whitening In the sun, The legion's trampled panoply, ' The eagle's shatter'd wing— I would not he for earth or sky So scorn'd and mean a thing. Ho, call me here the wizard, boy, Of dark and subtle skill. To agonize hut not destroy, To torture, not to kill. When swords are out, and shriek and shout Leave little room for prayer, ' No fetter on man's arm or heart Hangs half so heavy there. I curse him hy the gifts the land Hath won from him and Rome, The riving axe, the wasting hrand Kent forest, blazing home. I curse him by our country's gods, The terrible, the dark, The breakers of the Roman rods, The smiters of the bark. Oh, misery that such a ban On such a brow should be ! Why comes he QOt in battle's yan His cr mtry 's chief to be ? To stand a comrade by my side. The sharer of my fame. And worthy of a brother's pride And of a brother's name ? But it is past ! where heroes press And cowards bend the knee, Arminius is not brotherless, His brethren are the free. They come around : one hour, and light . Will fade from turf and tide, Then onward, onward to the fight. With darkness for our guide. To-night, to-night, when we shall meet In combat face to face, Then only would Arminius greet The renegade's embrace. The canker of Rome's guilt shall be Upon his dying name ; And as he lived in slavery. So shall he fall In shame. <>i tlie day after the Eomans had reached the Weser, Gemani* cus ^^d his army across that river, and a partial encounter took place, in which Arminius was successful. But on the succeeding day a general action was fought, in which Arminius was severely 120 DECISIVE BATTLES. wonnclecl, and the German infantry routed -^-itli heavy loss. The horscuun of tlie two tiruiies oncoiintered, without either party gaining the advantage. But the lioman army remained master of the ground, and chiimed a comph^te victory. Germanicus erected a trophy in the tieki, Math a vaiinting inscription, that the nations between the Khine and the Elbe had been thoroughly conquered by his army. But that army speedily made a hnal retreat to the left bank of the Khine; nor ^Yas the effect of their campaign more diirable than their trophy. The sarcasm with which Tacitus speaks of certain other triumphs of Eoman generals over Germans may apply to the pageant which Germanicus celebrated on his re- turn to Kome from his command of the Koman army of the Hhine. The Germans were " triumpliais p^ins quam vicii.'' After the Eomans had abandoned their attempts on Germany, we find Arminius engaged in hostilities with Maroboduus, the king of the Suevi and Marcomanni, who was endeavoring to bring the other German tribes into a state of dependency on him. Ar- minius was at the head of the Germans who took up arms against this home invader of their liberties. After some minor engage- ments, a pitched battle was fought between the two confederacies, A. D. 19, in which the loss on each side was equal, but Maroboduus confessed the ascendency of his antagonist by avoiding a renewal of the engagement, and by imploring the intervention of the Eo- mans in his defense. The younger Drusus then commanded the lioman legions in the province of Illyricum, and by his mediation a peace was concluded between Arminius and Maroboduus, by the terms of which it is evident that the latter must have renounced his ambitious schemes against the freedom oi the other German tribes . Arminius did not long survive this second war of independence, which he successfully waged for his country. He was assassinated in the thirty-seventh year of his age by some of his own kiusmen, who conspired against him, Tacitiis says that this happened while he was engaged in a civil war, which had been caused by his attempts to make himself king over his countrymen. It is far more probable (as one of the best biographers* has observed) that Taci- tus misunderstood an attempt of Arminius to extend hisintiuence as elective war-chiel'tain of the Cherusci, and other tribt*s, for an attempt to obtain the royal dignity. When we remember that his father-in-law and his brother were renegades, we can well under- stand that a party among his kinsmen may have been bitterly hos- tile to him, and have opposed his authority with the tribe by open violence, and, when that seemed ineffectual, by secret assassina- tion. Arminius left a name which the historians of the nation against * Dr. Plate, in " Blograplilcal Dictionaiy," commenced by tlie Society lor tlie Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. AUMimUS. 121 ■whicli lie combated so If ng and so gloriously have delighted to honor. It is from the most indisputable source, from the lips of enemies that we know his exploits.* His countrymen made his- tory, but did not write it. But his memory lived among them in the lays of their bards, who recorded Tlie deeds he did, the fields ha won, The freedom he restored. Tacitus, writing years after the death of Arminius, says of him, " Canitur adhue barbaras apud ,gentes." As time passed on, the gratitude of ancient Germany to her great deliverer grew into ado- ration, and divine honors were paid for centuries to Arminius by every tribe of the Low Germanic division of the Teutonic races. The Irmin-sul, or the column of Herman, near Eresbergh, the mordern Stadtberg, was the chosen object of worship to the de- scendants of the GliexwA'.'i, the old Saxons, and in defense of which they fought most desperately against Charlemagne and his Christianized Franks, "Irmin, in the cloudy Olympus of Teu- tonic belief, appears as a king and a warrior ; and the pillar, the •Irmin-sul,' bearing the statue, and considered as the symbol of the deity, was the Palladium of the Saxon nation until the temple of Eresbergh was destroyed by Charlemagne, and the column itself transferred to the monastery of Corbey, where loerhaps a portion of the rude rock idol yet remains, covered by the ornaments of the Gothic era,"t Traces of the worship of Arminius are to be found among our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, after their settlement in this island. One of the four great highways was held to be under the protection of the deity, and was called the "Irmin street." The name Arminius is, of course, the mere Latinized form of "Herman," the name by which the hero and the deity were known by every man of Low German blood on either side of the German Sea. It means, etymologically, the "War-man," the "man of hosts." No other explanation of the worship of the " Irmin-sul," and of the name of the "Irmin street," is so satisfac- tory as that which connects them with the deified Arminius^ We know for certain of the existence of other columns of an analogous character. Thus there was the Eolandseule in North Germany^ there was a Thor-seule in Sweden, and (what is more important) there was an Athelstan-seule in Saxon England. | Th^re is at the present moment a song respecting the Irmin-sul' current in the bishopric of Minden, one version of which might seem only to refer to Charlemagne having pulled down the Irmin- sul. * See Tacitus, "Ann.," Uh. 11., sec. 88; Velleius Paterculus, lib. L., sec. 118. t Palgrave on the " English Commonwealth," vol. 11. , p. 140. t See Lappenhurg's " Anglo-Saxons," p. 376. for nearly all the philo- logical and ethnographical lacts respecting Arminius, I am indebted to my trieuO, Dr. R. G. Latham. *- » v «v 122 DECISIVE BATTLE!^ Ilerman, sla dermen, 81a plpen, sla trummen, De Kaiser ulU kiimmeu, "Mot lianior \iu stan^eu, Will liermau upliaiigeu. Bnt there is another Tersion, which probably is the oldest, and which clearly refers to the great xVrminius. Un Herman slaiig dermen, Slaiig pipou, slaug Truminen ; l>e fui-suni sincl kanimen, Met all eren-iuannen Hel)t Varus iipliangen.* About ten centuries and a half after the demolition of the Irmin- Bul, and nearly eighteen after the death of Arminins, the modern Germans conceived the idea of rendering tardy homage to their great hero ; and accordingly, some eight or ten years ago, a general subscription was organized in Germany for the purpose of erecting on the Osnin^ — a conical mountain, which forms th.e> highest sum- mit of the Teutoberger Wald, and is eighteen hundred "feet above the level of the sea— a colossal bronze statue of Arminius. The statue was designed by Bandal. The hero was to stand uplifting a sword in his right hand, and looking toward the Ehine. The height of the statue was to be eighty feet from the base to the point of the sword, and was to stand on a circular Gothic temple ninety feet high, and supported by oak trees as cohimns. The mountain, where it was to be erected, is wild and stern, and overlooks the scene of the battle. It was calculated that the statute would be clearly visible at a distance of sixty miles. The temple is nearly finished, and the statue itself h.is been cast at the copper works at Lemgo. But there, through waul of funds to set it up, it has lain for some years, in disjoiited fragments, exposed to the mutilating homage of relic-seeking travelers. The idea of honoring a hero, who belongs to all Germany, is not one which the present rulers of that divided country have any wish to encoun\ge ; and the statue may long continxie to lie there, and pre- sent too true a type of the condition of Germany herself, f Surely this is an occasion in which Englishmen might well prove, by acts as well as words, that we also rank Arminius among our heroes. I have quoted the noble stanzas of one of our modern English poets on Arminius, and I will conclude this memoir with one of the odes of the great poet of modern Germany, Ivlopstock, on the victory to which we owe our freedom, and Arminius mainly owes his fame. Ivlopstock calls it the "Battle of Winfeld." The epi- * See Grimm, •• Deutsche isrytliologfie," 329. t On the subject of tills status, I must repeat an acknowledgment of mj ebli^fatious to my Mend, Mr. Henry Pearson. thfet of •• sister of Cannse " shows that Klopstook followed some cbronoiogers, according to whom Varus was defeated on the anni- versary of the day on which Pauius and Varro were defeated by HanniVjal. -^ONG OP TEIUMPH AFTEK THE VICTOEY OF HEEEMAN, THE DEUVEBEE OP GEEMANY FEOM THE EOMANS. FROM KLOPSTOCk's " HERMANN UND DIE FURSTEN. * Apposed to he sung hy a chorus 0/ Bards. A CHORUS. sister Of Cannse ! * WInfeld's t flght ! We saw thee wltti thy streaming, bloody hair. With flery eye. brl;,'h'o with the world's despair, Sweep by Walhalla's bards from out our sight. Herrman outspake : " Now Victory or.Death I '* The i^omans ..." Victory ! " And onwaid rushed their eagles with the cry. So ended the first day. " Victory or Death ! " began ThMi, nrst, the Koman chief ; and Herrman spake Not, but home-struck : the eaglesgnuttered— braka * So sped the second day. TWO CHOEUSES. And the third came ... the cry was " Flight or Death! Flight left they not for them who'd make them slavesr— Men who stab children ! flight for them I ... no I gravwl •• 'Twas their last day." TWO BAEDS. Yet spared they messengers : they came to Rome- How drooped the plume— the lance was left to trail , Down In the dust behind— their cheek was pale- So came the messengers to Bome. High In his hall the imperator sat— OctavianuH C'cesar Augustus sat. They filled up wlne-cups, wine-cups filled they up For him the hlghtest— wlne-cups filled they up For him the highest, Jove of all their state. The flutes of Lydia hushed before their voice,; Before the messengers— the ' Highest" sprimg— The godi against the marble pillars, wrung * The battle of Cannae, b.c, 216— Hannibal's victory over the Romans, t Wlnfeld— the probable site of the " Hemaan^chiadt;'^ see supra, i Auguatua waa worshipped as a deity in his lif etime. 124 DECISIVE BATTLES. By tUo droad -words, strtklncr his brow, and thrioo Cried ho iiloud lu unguish. • ' Varus ! Varus \ Give back my legions, Varus I" And now the world-wtdo conquerors shrunk and feared For fathorluiid and homo. 'I'ho lauoo to ralso ; and "nvonsj-st those false to Eome Tho dt\ith-lot rolled.* and still they shrunk and feared; "For sho hor face hath turned The victor g-oddoss," cried those cowards— (for aye lie It!)— "from Home and Romans, and her day Is done"— and still he mourned, And crlod aloud lu anguish. " Varus 1 Varus I Give back inj- leglousrvarus 1 "t Sykopsis of Events between Armintus's Victobt over Varus AND THE Battle of CnAiiONs. A. D. 43. The Eomans commence tlie conqiiest of Britain, Clau- dius being then Emperor of Rome. The popuhxtion of this ishind was then Celtic. In about forty years all the tribes south of the Clyde were siibdued, and their land made a Boman province. 58-GO. Successful campaigns of the Boman general Corbule against the Barthians. 04. First persecutions of the Christians at Borne under Nero. G8-70. Civil wars in the Boman world. The Emperors Nero, Galba, Otho, and Vitellius cut off successively by violent deaths. Vespasian becomes Emperor. 70. Jerusalem destroyed by the Bomans under Titus. 83. Futile attack of Domitian on the Germans. 86. Beginning of tlie wars between the Bomans and the Dacians. 98-117. Trajan emperor of Borne. Under him the empire ac- quires its greatest territorial extent by his conquests in Dacia and in the East. His successor, Hadrian, abandons the provinces be- yond the Euphrates which Trajan had conquered. 138-180. Era of the Antonines. 1G7-170. A long and desperate war between Borne and a great confederacy of the German nations. Marcus Antoninus at last succeeds in repelling them. 192-107. Civil wars throughout the Boman world. Severus be- comes emperor. He relaxes the discipline of the soldiers. After his death in 211, the series of military insurrections, civil wars, and murders of emperors recommences. 2'2(i. Artaxerxes (Ardisheer) overthrows the Parthian and restores the Persian kingdom in Asia. He attacks the Boman possessions in the East. * Bee .ast, the shout of all Whoui earth could send ironi her remotest bounds, v Heathen or faithful : fioiu thy hundred mouths. That feed the Caspian with Hlphean snows. Huge Volga! from famed nypauls. which once Cradled .the Hun : from all the countless realms Between I mans and that utmost strand Whei"e columns of Herculean rwk confront The blown Atlantic ; Koman. Goth, and Hun. And Scythtan stivngth of chivalry, that ti-ead The cold Codanlan shore, or what far hmds Inhospitable drink (.'Inuuerlan Hoods, Franks. Saxons, ^uevlc, and Sarmat Ian chiefs, And who fivm irreen Armortca or bpalu Flocked to the work of death."* The victory which the Eoman general, Aetius, with his Gothio allies, had then gained over the Huns, was the last victory of im- perial Kome. But among the long Fasti of her triumphs, few can be found that for their importance and ultimate benefit to mjuikind, are compamble with this expiring effort of her arms. It did not^ indeed, open to her any new career of conquest — it did not consoli- * Herberts "Attila," book 1., Une 13. BATTLE OF CIIALOm. 127 date the relics of her power — it did not turn the rapid ebb of her fortunes. The mission of imperial Eome was, in truth, already accomplished. She had received and transmitted through her once ample dominion the civilization of Gr^^ece. bhe had broken up the barriers of narrow nationalities among the various states and tribes that dwelt around the coasts of the Mediterrannean. She had fused these and many other races into one organized emjnre, bound together by a community of laws, of government, and institutions. Under the shelter of her full poWer the True Faith had arisen in the earth, and during the years of her decline it had been nour- ished to maturity, it had overspread all the provinces that ever obeyed her sway.* For no beneficial jjurpose to mankind could the dominion of the seven-hilled city have been restored or \jvo- longed. But it was all-important to mankind what nations should divide among them Rome's rich inheritance of emjjire. Whether, the Germanic and Gothic warriors should form states and king- doms out of the fragments of her dominions, and become the free members of the commonwealth of Christian Europe ; or whether pagan savages from the wilds of Central Asia, should crush the relics of classic civilization and the early institutions of the Christianized Germans in one hopeless chaos of barbaric con- quest. The Christian Visigoths of King Theodoric fought and triumphed at Chalons side by side witli tlie h gions of Aetius. Their joint victory over the Hunnish host not only rescued for a time from destruction the old age of Rome, but preserved for cen- turies of power and glory the Germanic element in the civilization of modern Europe. In order to estimate the full importance to mankind of the battle of Chalons, we must keep steadily in mind who and what the Ger- mans were, and the important distinctions between them and the numerous other races that assailed the Rouian empire ; and it is to be understood that the Gothic and Scandinavian nations are in- cluded in the German race. Now, "in two remarkable traits, the Germans differed from the Sarmatic as well as from the Slavic na- tions, and, indeed, from all those other races to whom the Greeks and Romans gave the designation of barbarians. I allude to their personal freedom and regard for the rights of men ; secondly, to the respect jiaid by them to the female sex, and the chastity for which the latter were celebrated among the people of the North. These were the foundations of that probity of character, self-respect, and purity of manners which may be traced among the Germans and Goths even during pagan times, and which, when their sentiments were enlightened by Christianity, brought out those splendid traits of character which distinguish the age of chivalry and ro- mance,"! What the intermixture of the German stock with the * See the Introduction to Ranke's " History of the Popes." t See Prichard'a " Kesearches into the Phybical History of Man," voL ill., p. 4i:3. J28 DECISIVE BATTLES. classic, at the fall of the Western empire, has done for mankind, may be best folc by watching, with Arnoki, over how hirgo a por- tion of the earth the intiuence of the German element is now ex- tended. '• It aifects, more or less, the whole west of Europe, from the head of the Gulf of Bothnia to the most soiTthern promontory of Sicily, from the Oder and the Adriatic to the Hebrides and to Lis- bon. It is true that the language spoken over a large portion of this space is not predominantly German ; biit even in France, and Italy, and Spain, the iutluence of the Franks, Burgundians, Visi- goths, Ostrogoths, and Loiubards, while it has colored even the language, has in blood and institutions left its mark legibly and indelibly, Germany, the Low countries, Switzerland for the most part, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden; and our own islands, are all in language, in blood, and in institutions, German most decidely. But all South America is peopled with Spaniards and Portuguese; all North America, and all Australia, with Englishmen. I say nothing of the prospects and intiuence of the German race in Africa and in India: it is enough to say that half of Europe, and all America and Australia, are German, more or less completely, in race, in language, or in institutions, or in all."* By the middle of the iifth century, Germanic nations had settled themselves in manj^ of the fairest regions of the Eoman empire- had imposed their yoke on the provincials, and had undergone, to a considerable extent, that moral conquest which the arts and refinements of the vanquished in arms have so often achieved over the rough victor. The Visigoths held the north of Spain, and Gaul south of the Loire. Franks, Alemanni, Alans, and Burgun- dians had established themselves in other Gallic provinces, and the Suevi were masters of a large southern portion of the Spanish peninsula. A king of the Vandals reigned in North Africa ; and the OstrogoHes had firmly planted themselves in the provinces north of Italy. Of these powers and principalities, that of the Visigoths, under their king Theodoric, son of Alaric, was by far the first in power and in civilization. The pressure of the Huns upon Europe had first been felt in the fourth century of our era. They had long been formidable to the Chinese empire, but the ascendency in arms which another nomadic tribe of Central Asia, the Si enpi, gained over them, drove the Huns from their Chinese conquests westward ; and this move-/ ment once being communicated to the whole chain of barbaric/ nations that dwelt northward of the Black Sea and the Eoman( empire, tribe after tribe of savage warriors broke in upon the bar- riers of civilized Europe, "Velut iinda supervenit undam." The Huns crossed the Tanais into Europe in 375 and rapidly reduced to subjection the Alans, the Ostrogoths, and other tribes that * Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History," p. 35. BATTLE OF CIIALOXS. 129 Trere then dwelling along the course of the Danube. The armies of the Koman emperor that tried to check their progress were cut to pieces by them, and Pannoriia and other jjrovinces south of the Danube wore speedily occujjied by the victorious cavalry of these new invaders. Not merely the degenerate Eomans, but the bold and hardy warriors of Germany and Scandinavia, were appalled at the number, the ferocity, the ghastly ai)pearance and the lightning- like rapidity of the Huns. Strange and loathsome legends were coined and credited, which attributed their origin to the union of " Secret, black, and midnlglit hags," with the evil spirits of the wilderness. Tribe after tribe, and city after city, fell before them. Then came a pause in their career of conquest in southwestern Europe, caused probably by dissensions among their chiefs, and also by their arms being employed in attacks ujjon the Scandinavian na- tions. But when Attila i^or Atzel, as he is called in the Hungarian language) became their ruler, the torrent of their arms was directed with augmented terrors upon the west and the south, and their myriads marched beneath the guidance of one master-mind to the overthrow both of the new and the old powers of the earth. Eecent events have thrown such a strong interest over every thing connected with the Hungarian name, that even the terrible renown of Attila now impresses us the more vividly through our sympathizing admiration of the exploits of those who claim to be descended from his warriors, and '*ambitiously insert the name of Attila among their native kings." The authenticity of this mar- tial genealogy is denied by some writers and questioned by more. 13ut it is at least certain that the Magyaar of Arpad, who are the immediate ancestors of the bulk of the modern Hungarians, and who conquered the country which bears the name of Hungary in A.D. 889, were of the same stock of mankind as were the Huns of Attila, even if they did not belong to the same subdivision of that stock. Nor is there any improbability in the tradition that after Attila's death many of his warriors remained in Hungary, and that their descendants afterward joined the Huns of Arpad in their career of conquest. It is certain that Attila made Hungary the seat of his emxjire. It seems also susceptible of clear proof that the territory was then called Hungvar and Attila's soldiers Hung- vari. Both the Huns of Attila and those of Arpad came from the family of nomadic nations whose primitive regions were those vast wildernesses of High Asia which are included between the Altaic and the Himalayan mountain chains. The inroads of these tribes upon the lower regions of Asia and into Europe have caused many of thf^ most remarkable revolutions in the history of the world. There is every reason to believe that swarms of these nations made their way into distant parts of the earth, at periods long before the date of he Scythian invasion of Asia, which is the earliest 130 DECISI I •£ BA TTLES, inrond of tho nomadic moo that history reoonls. Tho first, as far as Avo oiuv ooiv^iooturo. in rospoot to tho tiiuo of tlioir doscoiit, Nvoro the Finnish and ligvitin tribos, Nvho appoavto luvvo oouio down from the Altaic border of High Asia towanl tho noithwost, in which direc- tion thoy advanced to tho Ih-alian JMount^iins. There thoy t>stab- lishod tlicuisolvos ; and that mountain chain, with its valleys lUid pasture lands, became to them a new eountry. whence thoy sent ont colonies on t^very side: but the Vi»ii;;n ei>lon,v, which, nmlor Arpad, occupied lluni^avy, and became tho ancestors of tho bulk of the present Hunii;arian nation, did not quit their setdenunts on the Tralian Mouutaius till a very bite ]Hn-iod, and not until foxir cent\irios after tho time when Attila led from the primary seats of tho xiomadic races in High Asia the host with which ho advanced into the heart of France.* That host was Turkish, but closely allied in origin, hmguage, and habits with tho Finno-Ugrian Bottlers on the Tral. Attila's fan\e has not come down to ns through the partial and suspicious niodiiTui of chronichn's and poets of his own race. It is not from llunnish authorities that we learn tho extent of his might : it is from his enemies, from tho literal \iro and the legends of the nations whom ho atHicted with his avuis, that we draw tho nnques- tionable evidence of his greatness. Ix^sidos the express narratives of l>y/.antine, Ijatin, and (u>thic writers, we have tho strongest proof of the stern reality of Attila's conquests in the extent to which he and his Huns have been the themes of the earliest Ger- man and Scandinavian lays. ^Vild as many of those legends are, they bear coneurrent and certain testiuiouy to the awo with which the'memory of Attila was regarded by tho bold warrioi*s who com- posed and delighted in them. Attila's exploits, and the wonders of his unearthly steel and magic sword, repeatedly oceur in the 8agas of Norway and Iceland : and the celebrated Niebelungen Lied, the most ancient of Clermanic pt^etry, is full of them. There Etsel, or Attila, is described as tiu> wearer of twelve mighty crowns, and as promising to his bride the lands of thirty kings whom his irresistible sword had suhdued. He is, in fact, the hero of the latter part of this remarkable poem ; and it is at his capital city, Etselenbnrgh. wliieh evidently corrospoiids to the modern Buda, that much of its action takes place. When we turn from the legendary to the historic Attila, we see clearly that he was not one of tho vulgar herd of barbaric eon- qneroVs. Oonsummate military skill may bo traced in his cam- paigns: and ho relied far less on the brute force of armies for the aggrandi/ement of his em]ure, than on the nnbounded intluence over tho ati'ections of friends and the fears of foes which his geniua enabled him to acquire. Austerely sober in his private lift> — severely just on the judgment seat— conspicuous among a nation - ^ I —————«— ———.^—— _— * See Piltchanl's " Researches into the riiyslcal Illstorj' or MarJtlnd." BATTLE OF CHALONS. 131 M warrioTR for hardihood, strength, and skill in every martial exeroiHo — j>rave and dolibcrato in counHol, hut ray^id and romorse- leHwin oxocution, ho f^avo wafV^ty and Bocurity to all who were under hlH dominion, while he waged a warfare of extermination a{/ainst all who ')i)i>f)HcA or Houglit to escape from it. He watched the national puHKions, the prejudiccH, the crecdn, and the superBtitions of tlje varied nationw over which he ruled, and of thoHe which he sought to reduce beneath his sway : all these feelings he had the skill to turn to his own account. His own warriors believed him to })(i the inspired favorite of their deities, and followed him withl fanatic zeal ; his enemies looked on him as the pre-apjjointed mini»-( ter of heaven's wrat?i against themselves ; and though they believed not in his creed, their own made them tremble before him. in one of Ids early campaigns he apyjeared before his troops with an ancient iron sword in his grasy>, which he told them was the god of war whom their ancestors had worshipped. It is certain that the nomadic tribes of Northern Asia, whom Herodotus described under the name of Scythians, from the earliest times worshipped as their god a bare sword. That sword-god was supjjosed, in Attila's time, to have disappeared from earth ; but the Hunnish king now claimed to have received it by special revelation. It was said that a herdsman, who was tracking in the desert a wounded heifer by the drops of blood, found the mysterious sword standing fixed in the ground, as if it had darted down from heaven. The herdsman bore it to Attila, who thenceforth was believed by the Huns to wield the Si>irit of Death in battle, and their seers proy^h- esied that that sword was to destroy the world. A Roman,* who was on an embassy to the Hunnish camp, recorded in his memoirs Attila's acquisition of this supernatural weapon, and the immense influence over the minds of thebarlmric tribes which its possession gave him. In the title which he assumed we shall see the skill with which he availed himself of the legf-nds and creeds of other nations as well as of his own. He designated himself "Attica, Descendant of the Great Nimrod. Nurtured in Engaddi. By the Grace of God, King of the Huns, the Goths, the Danes, and the Medes. The Dread of the World." Herbert states that Attila is represented on an old medallion with a Teraphim, or a head, on his breast ; and the same writer adds, "We know, from t?ie 'Hamartigenea' of Prudentius, that Nimrod, with a snaky-haired head, was the object of adoration of the heretical followers of Marcion ; and the same head was the palladium set up }>y Antiochus Epiphanes over the gates of Antioch, though it has been called the visage of Charon. The memory of Nimrod was certainly regarded with mystic veneration by many ; and by asserting himself to be the heir of that mighty hunter before the Lord, he vindicated to himself at least the whole Babylonian kingdom. * Prlscus upud Jornandem. 132 DECISIVE BATTLES. " The sing-ala?* assertion in his style, that he "was nnrtured in Engaddi, where he certainly had never been, will be more easily nrderstood on reference to the twelfth chapter of the Book of Eev- elations, concerning the woman clothed with the sun, who was to bring forth in the wilderness 'where she hath a place prepared of God' — a man-child, who was to contend with the dragon having seven heads and ten horns, and rule all nations with a rod of iron. This projjhecy was at that time understood universally by the sin- cere Christians to refer to the birth of Constantine, who was to overwhelm the paganism of the city on the seven hills and it is still so explained ; but it is evident that the heathens must have looked on it in a difterent light, and regarded it as a foretelling of the birth of that Great One who should master the temporal power of Eome. The assertion, therefore, that he was nurtured in Engaddi, is a claim to be looked upon as that man-child who was to be brought forth in a place prepared of God in the wilderness. Engaddi means a place of palms and vines in the desert ; it was hard by Zoar, the city of refuge, which was saved in the Vale of Siddim, of Demons, when the rest were destroyed by fire and brimstone from the Lord in heaven, and might, therefore, be especially called a place prepared of God in the wilderness." It is obvious enough why he styled himself "By the Grace of Grod, King of the Huns and Goths ; " and it seems far from difficult to see why he added the names of the Medes and the D; :ies. His armies had been engaged in warfare against the Persian kingdom of the SassanidjB, and it is certain* that he meditated the invasion €tnd overthrow of the Medo-Persian power. Probably some of the northern provinces of that kingdom had been compelled to pay him tribute; and this would account for his styling himself King of the Medes, they being his remotest subjects to the south. From a similar cause, he may have called himself King of the Danes, as his power may well have extended northward as far as the nearest of the Scandinavian nations, and this mention of Medes and Danes as his subjects would serve at once to indicate the vast ex- tent of his dominioUj^t The immense terrifory north of the Danube and Black Sea and eastward of Caucasus, over which Attila ruled, first in conjunction with his brother Bleda, and afterward alone, cannot be very ac- curately defined, but it must have comprised within it, besides the Huns, many nations of Slavic, Gothic, Teutonic, and "Finnish origin. South also of the Danube, the country, from the Eiver Sau as far as Novi in Thrace, was a Hunnish province. Such was the empire of the Huns in a.d. 445 ; a memorable year, in which * ■■ rp tlie rarrative of Priscus. t In llie " MebeluDgtn Lied," tlie old poet who descrllDes ttie reception of the 1 eicine i linmliild ty Attila [Ltseli. says tliat Attila's dominiors were so vr?t, trrt rmcnglnssiibject-v.anioistliere were Russian, Greek, \\ai" lacliiaii, 1 olisli, and even Danish knights; BATTLE OF CHALONS. 133 Attila founded Buda on the Danube as his capital city, and ridded himself of his brother by a crime which seems to have been prompted not only by selfish ambition, but also by a desire of turning to his purpose the legends and forebodings which then were universally spread throughout the Eoman empire, and must have been well known to the watchful and ruthless Hun. The year 445 of our era comi)leted the twelfth century from the foundation of Eome, according to the best chronologers. It had always been believed among the Romans that the twelve vultures, which were said to have appeared to Eomulus when he founded the cit}^ signified the time during which the Eoman power should endure. The twelve vultures denoted twelve centuries. This in- terpretation of the vision of the birds of destiny was current among learned Romans, even when there was yet many of thb twelve centuries to run, and while the imperial city was at ths zenith of its power. But as the allotted time drew nearer and nearer to its conclusion, and as Rome grew weaker and weaker beneath the blows of barbaric invaders, the terrible omen was more and more talked and thought of ; and in Attila's time, men watched for the momentary extinction of the Roman state with the last beat of the last vulture's wing. Moreover, among the numer- ous legends connected with the foundation of the city, and the fratricidal death of Remus, there was one most terrible one, which told that Romulus did not put his brother to death in accident or in hasty quarrel, but that .*' He slew Ms gallant twhi Witli inexpiable sin," deliberately, and in compliance with the warnings of supernatural power. The shedding of a brother's blood was believed to have been the price at which the founder of Rome had j^urchased from destiny her twelve centuries df existence.* We may imagine, therefore, with what terror in this, the twelve hundredth year after the foundation of Rome, the inhabitants of the Roman empire must have heard the tidings that the royal brethren, Attila and Bleda, had founded a new capital on the Danube, which was designed to rule over the ancient capital on t'le Tiber ; and that Attila, like Romulus, had consecrated the foundations of his new city by murdering his brother; so that for the new cycle of centuries then about to commence, dominion had been bought from the gloomy spirits of destiny in favor of the Hun by a sacrifice of equal awe and value with that which had formerly obtained it for the Roman. It is to be remembered that not only the pagans, but also the * See a curious justlflcation of Attila for murdering- his hrotlier,' by a zealous Hungarian advocate, in tUe note to Pray's "Annales Htmnorum,'' p. 117. The example of Komulus is tne main authority quoted. 134 DECISIVE BATTLES. Cliristians of tliat age, knew and "believed in these legends and omens, liowevor they might differ as to the nature of the super- human agency by which siich mysteries had been made known to mankind. And we may observe, with Herbert, a modern learned dignitary of our church, how remarkably this augury was fultilled; for "if to the twelve centuries denoted by the twelve vultures that appeared to Eomulus, we add for the six birds that appeared to llemus six lustra, or periods of live years each, by which the Eomans were wont to number their time, it brings us precisely to the year 470, in which the lloman empire was finally extinguished by Odoacer." An attempt to assassinate Attila, made, or supposed to have been made, at the instigation of Theodoric the younger, the Em- peror of Constantinople, drew the liunnish armies, in 4-15, upon the Eastern empire, and delayed for a time the destined blow against Home. Probably a more important cause of delay was the revolt of some of the Hunnish tribes to the north of the Black Sea against Attila, which broke out about this period, and is cursorily mentioned by the Byzantine writers. Attila qiielled this revolt, and having thus consolidated his power, and having piinished the presumi:)tion of the Eastern Roman emperor by fearful rav- :>^es of his fairest provinces, Attila, in 450 a.d., prepared to set Jas vast forces in motion for the conquest of Western Europe. He sought nnsuccessi'ully by diplomatic intrigues to detach the King of the Visigoths from his alliance with Ivome, and he resolved Urst to crush the power of Theodoric, and then to advance with overwhelming power to trample out the last sparks of the doomed Ivoman empire. A strange invitation from a lloman princess gave him a pretext for the war, and threw an air of chivalric enterprise over his inva- •sion. Honoria, sister of Valentinian III., the Emperor of the West, had sent to Attila to offer him her hand and her supposed right to share in the imperial power. This had been discovered by the Eomans, and Honoria had been forthwith closely impris- oned. Attila now pretended to take iip arms in behalf of his self- promised bride, and proclaimed that he was about to march to Rome to redress Honoria's wrongs. Ambition and spite against her brother must have been the sole motives that led the lady to woo the royal Hun; for Attila s face and pe^-son had all the natural ilgliness of his race, and the description given of him by a Byzan- tine embassador miist have been well known in the imperial courts. Herbert has well versihed the portrait drawn by Priscua of the great enemy of both Byzantium and Rome ; "Terrific was his semblance, In no mold Ot beautiful vroporti(^n cast ; liis limbs Notliiiii^ exalted, but with sinews braced Of Ohaiybanxu temper, agile, litlie, AM swifter than, the roe ; his imiple chest BATTLE OF CHALONS. 135 Was overTjrow'fl by a gigantic hearj, Wltli (;.y<;8 keen, deeply sunk, arid small, that glcam'd Strangely In wrath as though some spirit unclean ■W'ttUln tliat corporal tenement instalivi Look'd rrom its windows, but with tfimper'dflre Beam'd mildly on the unresisting. Thin His heard and hoary: his Hat nostrils crown'd A cicatrized, swart visage; hut, withal. That questionable shape such glory wore That mortals quail d beneath him." Two chiefs of the Franks, who were then settled on the Lower Bhine, were at this period engaged in a feud with each other, and while one of them aijpealed to the Komans for aid, the other in- vok^;d the assistance and j^rotection of the Huns. Attila thus ob- tained an ally whose co-operation secured for him the passage of the Khine, and it was this circumstance which caused him to take a northward route from Hungary for his attack upon Gaul. Tlie muster of the Hunnish hosts was swollen by warriors of every tribe that they had subjugated; nor is there any reason to susi)ect the old chroniclers of wilful exaggeration in estimating Attilas army at seven hundred thousand strong. Having crossed .th ) Bhine probably a little below Coblentz, he defeated the King of the Burgundians, who endeavored to bar his jjrogress.^ Het'ien divided his vast forces into two armies, one of which marched northwest upon Tongres and Arras, and the other cities of that part of France, while the main body, under Attila himself, ad- vanced up the Moselle, and destroyed Besan THE Battle of Toues, a. n. 732. A.D. 476. The Eoman empire of the West extinguished bj Odoacer. 481. Establishment of the French monarchy in Gaul by Clovis. 455-582. The Saxons, Angles, and Frisians conquer Britian, ex- cept the northern parts and the districts along the west coast. The German conquerers found eight independent kingdoms. 533-508. The generals of Justinian, the Emperor of Constanti- nople, conquer Italy and North Africa ; and these countries are for a short time annexed to the Boman empire of the East. 508-570. The Lombards conquer great part of Italy. 570-027. The wars between the emperors of Constantinople and the kings of Persia are actively continued. 022. The Mohammedan era of the Hegira. Mohammed is driven from Mecca, and is received as Prince of Medina. 029-032. Mohammed conquers Arabia. 632-651. The Mohammedan Arabs invade and conquer Persian 632-700. They attack the Eoman empire of the East. They con- quer Syria, Egypt and Africa. 709-713. They cross the Straits of Gibraltar, and invade and conquer Spain. CHAPTER Vn. THE BATTLE OF TOUES, A.D. 732. The events that rescued our ancestors of Britain and our neighbors of Oaul from tlie ciAll and religious yoke of the Koran.— Gibbon. The broad tract of campaign country which intervenes between * If I seem to liave given fewer of the details of the battle itself than its Importance would warrant, my excuse must be. that diMion has enriched our language with a description oi; it. too long lor (iiK)tatiou and too splendid for rivalry. 1 have not. however, taken altogether the same view ot it that he has. Tlie notes to M r . Herbert s poem of ' • Attila »' bring- together nearly ail the authorities on the subject. BATTLE OF TOURS 139 the cities of Poictiers and Tours is principally composed of a suc- cession of rich pasture lands, which are traversed and fertiiizea oy the Cher, the Creuse, the Vienne, the Claine, the Indre, and other tributaries of the Itiver Loire, Here and there the ground swells into picturesque eminences, and occasionally a belt of forest land, a brown heath, or a clustering series of vineyards breaks the monotony of the widespread meadows ; but the general character of the land is that of a grassy plain, and it seems naturally adapted for the evolutions of numerous armies, especially of those vast bodies of cavalry which principally decided the fate of nations during the centuries that followed the downfall of Kome, and pre^ ceded the consolidation of the modern European powers. This region has been signalized by more tnun one memorable conflict ; but it is principally interesting tt> the historian by having been the scene of the great victory won by Charles Martel over the Saracens, a.d. 732, which gave a decisive check to the career ot Arab conquest in Western Europe, rescued Christendom from Islam, preserved the relics of ancient and the germs of modern civilization, and re-established the old superiority of Indo-European over the Semitic family of mankind. Sismondi and Michelet have underrated the enduring interest of this great Appeal of Battle between the champions of the Crescent and the Cross. But, if French writers have slighted the exploits of the/r national hero, the Saracenic trophies of Charles Martel have had full justice done to them by English and German historians. Gibbon devotes several pages of his great work* to the narrative of the battle of Tours, and the consideration of the consequences which probably would have resulted if Abderrahman's enter- prise had not been crushed by the Prankish chief. Schlegelf speaks of this "mighty victory" in terms of fervent gratitude, and tells how "the arm of Charles Martel saved and delivered the Christian nations of the "West from the deadly grasp of all -destroy- ing Islam ;" and Ranket points out, as "one of the most important epochs in the history of the world, the commencement of the eighth century, when on one side Mohammedanism threatened to over- spread Italy and Gaul, and on the other the ancient idolatry of Saxony and Friesland once more forced its way across the Rhine. In this peril of Christian institutions, a youthful prince of Germanic race, Karl Martell, arose as their champion, maintained them with all the energy which the necessity for self-defense calls forth, and finally extended them into new regions." * Vol. vll., p. 17, et Heq. GilDbon's sneering remark, that If the Saracen conquests had not then been checked, "perhaps the Interpretation of the Koran would now be taught In the schools of Oxford, and her pulpits might demonstrate to a circumcised people the sancity and truth of the revelatioii of Mohammed, has almost an air of regret. t " Phllosphy of Hist/Dry," p 331. % " History of the Keformation in Genaany," yol. 1., p. 6, 140 DECISIVE! BATTLES. Arnold* ranks the victory of Charles Martel even higher than the victory of Arminiiis, "among those signal dolivorances which have aHVoted for oonturios the happiness of luanlvind." In fact, the more we test its importance, the higher we shall be led to estimate it ; and, though all authentic details which we possess of its cir- cumstances and its heroes are but meager, we oun trace enough of its general character to make us watch with deep interest this encounter between the rival conquerors of the decaying lloman empire. That old classic world, the history of which occupies so large a portion of our early studies, lay, in the eighth century of our era, utterly inanimate and overthrown. On the north the German, on the south the Arab, was rending away its provinces. At last the spoilers encoiintercd one another, each 'striving for the full mastery of the prey. Their contiict brought back upon the memory of Gibbon the old Homeric simile, where the strife of Hector and Patroclus over the dead body of Cebriones is compared to the combat of two lions, that in their hate and hunger light together on the mountain tops over the carcass of a slaughterecj stag ; and the reluctant yielding of the Saracen power to the supe- rior might of the Northern warriors might not inaptly recall those other lines of the same book of the Iliad, where the downfall of Patroclus beneath Hector is likened to the forced yielding of the panting and exhaustad wild boar, that had long' and furiously foTight with a superior beast of prey for the possession of the scantv fountain among the rocks at which each burned to drink, f Although three centuries had passed away since the Germanic conquerors of Rome had crossed the Ehine, never to repass that frontier stream, no settled system of institutions or government, no amalgamation of the various races into one people, no uniformity of language or habits, had been established in the country at the time when Charles ]\Iartel was called to repel the menacing tide of Saracenic invasion from the south. Gaul was not yet Frjince. In that, as in other provinces of the Roman empire of the "West, the dominion of the Ot^sars had been shattered as early as the fifth century, and barbaric kingdoms and principalities had promptly * " History of tlie later Koman Oommonwealtli,"' vol. 11., p. 317. t , Jeoyd' Gjf, d)ipiyO})Ti]y, DjT op£o? xofji'cptjoi TTepL xrausyf/? ^Xdcpoto, '^AjLKpco TTSiydoyrE, jiuXa (pfjoyeoyrs jndx£(jOoy. 11. , It. 756. */2? 5' ore '6vv axdnavra Xioav kfSiT}6aro xd-puxiy Tcb V ofJEoi xopfxp^oi /iieycx cppoyeorrs /idxEECOorj II}dcXHoed by the Arab writers as a model of integrity and justice. The first two years of his second administration in Spain were oc- cupied in severe reforms of the abuses which under his j)rede- cessors had crept into the system of government, and in extensive preparations for his intended conquent in Gaul. Besides the troops which he collected from his province, he obtained from Africa a large body of chosen Berber cavalry, officered by Arabs of proved skill and valor; and in the summer of 732, he crossed the l^yrenees at the head of an army which some Arab writers rate at eighty thousand strong, while some of the Cljristian chroniclers swell its nurnVjers to many hundreds of thousands more. Probably the Arab account diminishes, but of the two keeps nearer to the truth. It was from ihic formidable host, after Eudes, the Count of Aquitaine, had vainly striven to check it, after many strong cities had fallen before it, and half the land had been overrun, that Gaul and Christendom were at last rescued by the strong arm of Prince Charles, who acquired a surname,* like that of the war- god of his forefathers' creed, from the might with which he broke y and shattered his enemies in the battle. ,/ The Merovingian kings had sunk into absolute insignificance, and had become mere puppets of royalty before the eighth cen- tury. Charles Martel, like his father, Pepin Heristal, was Duke of the Austrasian Franks, the bravest and most thoroughly Ger- manic part of the nation, and exercised, in the name of the titular king, what little jjaramount authority the turbulent minor rulers of districts and towns could be persuaded or compelled to acknowl- edge. Engaged with his national competitors in perpetual con- flicts for power, and in more serious struggles for safety against the fierce tribes of the unconverted Frisians, Bavarians, Saxons, and Thuringians, who at that epoch assailed with peculiar ferocity the Christianized Germans on the left bank of the Pthine, Charles Martel added experienced skill to his natural courage, and he had also formed a militia of veterans among the Franks. Hallam has thrown out a doubt whether, in our admiration of his victory afc Tours, we do not judge a little too much by the event, and whether there was not rashness in his risking the fate of France on the re- sult ©f a general battle with the invaders. But when we remember that Charles had no standing army, and the independent spirit of the Frank warriors who followed his standard, it seems most probable that it was not in his power to adojjt the cautious policy of watching the invaders, and wearing out their strength by delay. * ]M artel— The TTammer. See tlie Scandanavian Sagas for an account ox Vije f3.vorli,e weapon ol Thoar. 144 DECISIVE BATTLES. So dreadful and. so widespread were the ravages of the Saracenic light cavalry throughout Gaul, that it must have been impossible to restrain for anj'- length of time the indignant ardor of the Franks. And, even if Charles could have persuaded his men to look tamely on while the Arabs stormed more towns and. desolated more districts, he could not have kept an army together when the usual period of a military expedition had expired. If, indeed, the .Arab account of the disorganization of the Moslem forces be cor- 'rect, the battle was as well timed on the part of Charles, as it was, beyond all question, well fought. The monkish chroniclers, from whom we are obliged to glean a narrative of this memorable campaign, bear full evidence to the terror which the Saracen invasion inspired, and to the agony of that great struggle. The Saracens, say they, and their king, who was called Abdirames, came out of Spain, with all their wives, and their children, and their substance, in such great multitudes that no man could reckon or estimate them. They brought with them all their armor, and whatever they had, asif they were thenceforth always to dwell in France. * " then Abderrahman, seeing the land filled with the multitude of his army, pierces through the mountains, tramples over rough and level ground, plunders far into the country of the Franks, and smites all with the sword, insomuch that when Eudo came to bat- tle with him at the Eiver Garonne, and fled before him, God alone knows the number of the slain. Then Abderrahman pursued after Count Eudo, and while he strives to spoil and burn the holy shrine at Tours, he encounters the chief of the Austrasian Franks, Charles, a man of war from his youth up, to whom Eudo had sent warning. There for nearly seven days they strive intensely, and at last they set themselves in battle array, and the nations of the North standing firm as a wall, and impenetrable as a zone of ice, utterly slay the Arabs with the edge of the sword, "f The European writers all concur in speaking of the fall of Abderrahman as one of the ijrincipal causes of the defeat of the Arabs; who, according to one writer, after fin ding that their leader was slain, dispersed in the night, to the agreeable, surprise of the Christians, who expected the next morning to see them issue from their tents and renew the combat. One monkish chronicler puts •the loss of the AratSs at 375,000 men, while he says that only 1007 Christians fell; a disparity of ] >ss which he feels bound to account for by a special interpositior " of Trovidence. I have translated * ' ' Lors issirent d'Espaigne 11 Sarrazlns, et un leur Koi qui avoit nom Ab- dirames, et out leur fames et leur enfans et toute leur sutostance en si grand plente que nus ne le prevoit nomljrer ne estimer : tout leur liarnois et quan- ques il avolent amenement avec entz, aussl comme si ils deussent toujours mc-s luibiier en France.'' t ■ uiic /.Ldirralmjan. multltudine sui exercitus repletam prospiciens tcrram, etc.— Script. Gifroperty, or (to use the words of an old act) as 'the clothing of the soil ;' he must not picture to himself on the other hand, William, a king and a despot — on the other, subjects of ,iWilliam's, high and low, rich and poor, all inhabiting England, and consequently all English ; he must imagine two nations, one of which "William is a member and the chief— two nations which (if the term must be used) were both subject to William, but as applied to which the word has quite ditierent senses, meaning, in the one case, subo7'dinate — in the other, subjugated. He must consider that there are two countries, two soils, included in the eame geograph- ical circumference — that of the Normans, rich and free ; that of the Saxons, poor and serving, vexed hy rent and ioilarie: the former full of spacious mansions, and walled and moated castles ; the latter scattered over with huts and straw, and ruined hovels : that peopled with the happy and the idle — with men of the army nnd of the coiirt — with knights and nobles ; this with men of pain and labor — with farmers and artisans : on the one side, luxury and insolence; on the other, misery and envy— not the envy of the poor at the sight of opiilence they cannot reach, but the envy of the despoiled when in the presence of the despoilers." Perhaps the effect of Thierry's work has been to cast into the shade the ultimate good effects on England of the Norman Conquest. Yet these are as undeniable as are the miseries which that conquest inflicted on our Saxon ancestors from the time of the battle of Hastings to the time of the signing of the Great Charter at Eunny- mede. That last is the true epoch of English nationality ; it is the epoch when Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon ceased to keep aloof from each other — the one in haughty scorn, the other in sullen abhorrence ; and when all the free men of the land, whether ba- rons, knights, yoemen, or burghers, combined to lay the foundations of English freedom. I Our Norman barons were the chiefs of that primary constitutional movement ; those "iron barons," whom Chatham has so nobly eulogized. This alone should make England remember her obli- gations to the Norman Conquest, which planted far and wide, as a dominant class in her land, a martial nobility of the bravest and most energetic race that ever existed. It may sound parodoxical, but it is in reality no exaggeration to say, with Guizot,* that England's liberties are owing to her having * " E&sals BUT I'JHistoire de France," p, 2T8, etseq. BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 151 been conquered by the Normans. It is true that the Saxon insti- tutions were the primitive cradle of English liberty, but by their own intrii^sic force they could never have founded the enduring free English Constitution. It was the Conquest that infused into them, a new virtue, and the political liberties of England arose from the situation in which the Anglo-Saxon an 1 the Anglo-Norman popu- lations and laws found themselves placed relatively to each other in this island. The state of England under her last Anglo-Saxon kings closely resembled the state of France under the last Carlo- vingian and the first Capetian princes. The crown was feeble, the great nobles were strong and turbulent ; and although there was more national unity in Saxon Englr.nd than in France — although the English local free institutions had more reality and energy than was the case with any thing analogous to them on the Continent in *he eleventh century, still the probabilty is that the Saxon system of polity, if left to itself, would have fallen into utter confusion, Dut of which would have arisen, first, an aristocratic hierarchy ; %e that which arose in France; next, an absolute monarchy, Hnd, finally, a series of anarchial revolutions, such as we now be- hold around, but not among us.* The latest conquerors of this island were also the bravest and the best. I do not excei^t even the Komans. And, in spite of our sympathies with Harold and Hereward, and our abhorrence of the founder of the New Forest and the desolator of Yorkshire, we must confess the superiority of the Normans to the Anglo-Saxons and Anglo-Danes, whom they met here in 106G, as well as to the degen- erate Frank noblesse, and the crushed and servile Romanesque provincials, from whom, in 912, they had wrested thedistrict in the north of Gaul, which still bears the name of Norflrtrtray. It was not merely by extreme valor and ready subordination to military discipline that the Normans were pre-eminent among all the conquering races of the Gothic stock, but also by an instinctive faculty of appreciating and adopting the superior civilizations which they encountered. The Duke Ptollus and his Scandinavian warriors rsadily embraced the creed, the language, the laws, and the arts, which France, in those troubled and evil times with which the Capetian dynasty commenced, still inherited from imperial Eome and imperial Charlemagne. "lis adopterent les usages, les devoirs, les subordination que les capitulaires des empereurs et les rois sevoient institues. Mais ce qu'ils apporterent dans I'appli- cation de ces lois, ce fut I'esprit de vie, I'espritde liberte, I'habitude de la subordination militaire, et Tintelligence d'un etat politique qui conciliat la surete de tous aveo Tindependance de chacun."f So, also, in all chivalric feelings, in enthusiastic religious zeal, in almost idolatrous respect to females of gentle birth, in generous * See Guizot, ut supra. t bismondi, "Histoire ae Fracsais," vol. ill., p, 1T4, 152 bectsivj: liATTLl^::^ fondness for the nascent poetry of the tiino, in a keen intellectual lelisli for subtle thought and disputation, in a taste for are bit t--.- tunil inagnitioenco. and all courtly relinonient and pai;oantry. The Normans -were tlio Paladins of the \vorld. Their brilliant qiialities were sullied by many darker traits of pride, of merciless cruelty, and of brutal contempt for the industry, the rights, and ithe feelings of all whom they considered the lower classes of man- kind. Their gradual blending with the Saxons softened these harsh and evil points of their national character: and in return they tired the duller Saxon mass with a new spirit of animation and power. As Campbell boldly expressed it, " Thei/ hitih-meUled the blood of our veins." Small had been the figure which England made in the world before the coming over of the Normans and without them she never would have emerged from insignifi- cance. The authority of Gibbon may be taken as decisive when he pronounces that " assuredly England was a gainer by the Con- quest." And we may proudly adopt the comment of the French- man Eapin, who, writing of the battle of Hastings more than ;\ century ago. speaks of the revolution efiected by it as "the first step by which England is arrived to the height of grandeur and glory we behold it in at present."* The interest of this eventful struggle, by which "William of Nor- mandy became king of England, is materially enhanced by the high personal character of the competitors for oiir crown. They were three in number. One was a foreign prince, from the north; one was a foreign prince, from the south; and one was a native hero of tlie land. Harald Hardrada, the strongest and the most chilvalric of the kings of JuDrway,t was the first; Duke William of Normandy was the second ; and the Saxon Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, was the third. Never was a nobler prize sought by nobler champions, or striven for more gallantly. The Saxon triiimphed over the Norwegian, and the Norman tii- nmplied over the Saxon ; but Norse valor was never more con- picuous than when Harald Hardrada and his host fought and fell at Stamford Bridge ; nor did Saxons ever face their foes more bravely than our Harold and his men on the fatal day of Hastings. During the reign of King Edward the Confessor over this land, ithe claims of the Norwegian king to our crown were little thought of ; and though Hardrada's predecessor, King Magnus of Norway, had on one occasion asserted that, by virtue of a compact with our former king, Hardicanute, he was entitled to the English throne, no serious attempt had been made to enforce his pretensions. But the rivalry of the Saxon Harold and the Norman William was * Rapln. ' ' Hist. England," p. 164. See, also, on this point, Sharon Turner, vol. iv., p. 7'i. t bee in Snoi"i"e the Saga Herald! Haxdrada. BA TTL E OF HASTING f^. 153 foreseen and bewailed h: the Confessor, wlio was believed to have predicted on his death-bed the calamities that were impend- ing over England. Duke William was King Edward's kinsman. Harold was the head of the most powerful noble house, next to the royal blood, in England ; and, ]>orsonally, he was the bravest and most popular chieftain in the Innd. King Edward was childless, and the nearest collateral heir was a puny unpromising Vjoy. England had sufiered too severely, during royal minorities, to make the ac- cession of Edgar Atheling desirable ; and long before King Edward's death, Enrl Harold was the destined king of the nation's choice, though the favor of the Confessor was believed to lead toward the Norman duke. A little time before the death of King Edward, Harold was in Normandy. The causes of the voyage of the Saxon earl to the Continent are doubtful; but the fact of his having been, in 1065, at the ducal court, and in the power of his rival, is indisimtable. William made skilful and unscrupulous use of the opx^ortunity. Though Harold was treated with outward courtesy and friend- ship, he was made fully aware that his liberty and life depended on his compliance with the duke's requests. William said to him in apparent confidence and cordiality, "When King Edward and I once lived like brothers under the same roof, he promised that if ever he became King of England, he would make me heir to his throne. Harold, I wish that thou wouldst assist me to realize this promise." Harold rejdied with expressions of assent, and further agreed, at William's request, to marry William's daughter, Adela, and to .send over his own sister to be married to one of William's barons. The crafty Norman was not content with this extorted promise; he determined to bind Harold by a more solemn pledge, the breach of which would be a weight on the spirit of the gallant Saxon, and a discouragement to others from adopting his cause. Before a full assembly of the Norman barons, Harold was required to do homage to Duke William, as the heir apparent to the English crown. Kneeling down, Harold placed his hands between those of the duke, and repeated the solemn form by which he acknowledged the duke as his lord, and prom- ised to him fealty and true service. But William exacted more. He bad caused all the bones and relics of saints, that were pre- served in the Norman monasteries and churches, to be collected into a chest, which was placed in the council-room, covered over with a cloth of gold. On the chest of relics, which were thus concealed, was laid a missal. The duke then solemnly addressed his titular guest and real captive, and said to him, "Harold, I require thee, before this noble assembly, to confirm by oath the promises which thou hast made me, to assist me in obtaining the crown of England after King Edward's death, to marry my daughter Adela, and to send me thy sister, that I may give her in marriage to one of my barons." Harold, once more taken by 154 LEClStVB MTfLE^. surprise, and not able to deny his former words, approached the missal, and laid his hand on it, not knowing that the chest of relics was beneath. The old Norman chronicler, who describes the scene most minutely,* says, when Harold placed his hand on it, the hand trembled, and the flesh quivered; but he swore, and promised iipon his oath to take Ele [Adela] to wife, and to deliver up England to the duke and thereunto to do all in his power, according to his might and wit, after the death of Edward, if he himself shoul.l live; so help him God. Many cried, "God grant it!" and when Harold rose from his knees, the duke made him stand close to the chest, and took ofif the pall that had covered it. and showed Harold upon what holy relics he had sworn; and Harold was sorely alarmed at the sight. Harold was soon after permitted to return to England; and after a short interval, during which he distinguished himself by the wisdom and humanity with which he pacified some formidable tumults of the Anglo-Danes in Northumbria, he found himself called on to decide whether he would keep the oath which the Nor- man had obtained from him, or mount the vacantthrone of England in compliance with the nation's choice. King Edward the Con- fessor died on the 5th of January, 1066, and on the following day an assembly of the thanes and prehites present in London, and of the citizens of the metropolis, declared that Harold should be their king. It was reported that the dying Edward had nominated him as his successor. But the sense which his countrymen enter- tained of his pre-eminent merit was the true foundation of his title to the crown. Harold resolved to disregard the oath which he made in Normandy as violent and void, and on the 7th day of that January he was anointed King of England, and received from the archbishop's hands the golden crown and scepter of England, and also an ancient national symbol, a weighty battle-ax. He had truly deep and speedy need of this significant part of the insignia of Saxon royalty. A messenger from Normandy soon arrived to remind Harold of the oath which he had sworn to the duke "with his mouth, and his hand upon good and holy relics." " It is true," replied the Saxon king, "that I took an oath to William; but I took it under con- straint: I promised what did not belong to me — what I could not in any way hold: my royalty is not my own; I could not lay it down against the will of the country, nor can I, against the will of the country, take a foreign wife. As for my sister, whom the duke claims that he may marry her to one of his chiefs, she has died within the year; would he have me send her corpse?" William sent another message, which met with a similar answer; and then the duke published far and wide through Christendom what he termed the perjury and bad faith of his rival, and pro- * Wace, " Roman de Kou." I liave nearly/ loUowed liis words. BATTLE OF BASTINGS. 155 claimed his intention of asserting Li. riglits by tlie sword, before the year should expire, and of pursuing and punishing the per- jurer even in those places where he thought he stood most strongly and most securely. Before, however, he commenced hostilities, William, with deep- laid policy, submitted his claims to the decision of the pope. Harold refused to acknowledge this tribunal, or to answer before an Italian priest for his title as an English king. After a formal examination of "William's complaints by the pope and the cardi- nils, it was solemnly adjudged at Rome that England belonged to the Noiman duke, and a banner was sent to "William from the Holy See, which the pope himsejf had consecrated, and blessed for the invasion of this island. The clergy throughout the Conti- nent \ ere now assiduous and energetic in preaching up William's enterprise as undertaken in the cause of God. Besides these spirit- ual arms {i.e effect of which in the eleventh century must not be measured by the philosophy or indifferentism of the nineteenth) the Norman duke applied all the energies of his mind and body, all the resources of his duchy, and aJl the intiiK nee he posessed among vassals or allies, to the collection of "the most ren) ark- able and formidable armament which the Western nations bad ■witnessed."* All the adventurous spirits of Christendom flocked to the holy banner, under which Duke William, the most renowned knight and sagest general of the age, promised to lead them to glory and wealth in the fair domains of England. His army was tilled with the chivalry of Continental Europe, all eager to save their souls by fighting at the pope's bidding, eager to signalize their valor in so great an enterprise, and eager also for the pay and the plunder which William liberally promised. But the iMor- mans themselves were the pith and the flower oi the army, and William himself was the strongest, the sagest, and the fiercest spirit of them all. Throughout the spring and summer of 1066, all the sea-ports of Normandy, Picardy, and Brittany rang with the busy sound of preparation. On the opposite side of the Channel King Harold collected the army and the fleet with which he hoped to crush the southern invaders. But the unexpected attack of King Har- ald Hardrada of Norway upon another part of England discon- certed the skilful measures which the 8axon had taken against the menacing armada of Duke William. Harold's renegade brother, Earl Tostig, had excited the Norse king to this enterprise, the importance of which has naturally been eclipsed by the superior interest attached to the victorious expedition of Duke William, but which was on a scale of grandeur which the Scandinavian ports had rarely, if ever, before witnessed. Hardrada's fleet consisted of two hundred war ships and three * Sir James Mactintosh's " History of Engiana," yoI. t, p. 9T, J56 DECISIVE BATTLES. Imndred other vessels, and all tlie best warriors of Norway wera in his host. He sailed first to the Orkneys, where many of the islanders joined him, and then to Yorkshire. After a severe con- flict near York, he completel}' routed Earls Edwin and Morcar, the governors of Northnmbria. The city of York opened its gates, and all the country, from the Tyne, to the Humber, submitted to him. The tidings of the defeat of Edwin and Morcar compelled Harold to leave his position on the Southern coast, and move in- stantly against the Norwegians. By a remarkably rapid march he reached Yorkshire in four days, and took the Norse king and his confederates by surprise. Nevertheless, the battle which ensued, and which was fought near Stamford Bridge, was desperate and was long doubtful. Unable to break the ranks of the Norwegian phalanx by force, Harold at length tempted them to quit their close order by a pretended flight. Then the English columns burst in among them, and a carnage ensued, the extent of which may be judged of by the exhaustion and inactivity of Norway for a quarter of a century afterward. King Harald Hardrada, and all the flower of his nobility, perished on the 25th of September, 1066, at Stamford Bridge, a battle which was a Flodden to Nor- way. Harold's victory was splendid; but he had bought it dearly by the fall of many of his best officers and men, and still more dearly by the opportunity which Duke William had gained of efl'ecting an unopposed landing on the Sussex coast. The whole of Wil- liam's shipping had assembled at the mouth of the Dive, a little river between the Seine and the Orne, as early as the middle of August. The army which he had collected amounted to fifty thousand knights and ten thousand soldiers of inferior degree. Many of the knights were mounted, but many must have served on foot, as it is hardly possible to believe that William could have found transports for the conveyance of fifty thousand war-horses across the Channel. For a long time the winds were adverse, and the duke employed the interval that passed before he could set sail in completing the organization and in improving the discipline of his army, which he seems to have brought into the same state of perfection as was seven centuries and a half afterward the boast of another army assembled on the same coast, and which Napoleon designed (but providentially in vain) for a similar descent upon England. It was not till the approach of the equinox that the wind veered from the northeast to the west, and gave the Normans an oppor- tunity of quitting the weary shores of the Dive. They eagerly em- barked and set sail, but the wind soon freshened to a gale and drove them along the French coast to St. Valery where the greater part of them found shelter; but many of their vessels were wrecked, and the whole coast of Normandy was strewn with the bodies of the drowned, William's army began to grow discouraged and averse BATTLE OF EASTINGS. 157 to the enterprise, which the ^ery elements thus seemed to fight against; though, in reality, the northeast wind, which had coped them so long at the mouth of the Dive, and the western gale, which had forced them into St. Valery, were the best possible friends to the invaders. They prevented the Normans from cross- ing the Channel until the Saxon king and his army of defense had been called away from the Sussex coast to encounter Harald Hardrada in Yorkshire; and also until a formidable English fleet which by King Harold's orders had been cruising in the Channel to intercept the Normans, had been obliged to disperse tempor- arily for the purpose of refitting and taking in fresh stores of provisions. Duke William used every expedient to reanimate the drooping spirits of his men at St. Valery ; and at last he caused the body of the patron saint of the place to be exhumed and carried in solemn procession, while the whole assemblage of soldiers, mariners, and appurtenant priests implored the saint's intercession for a change of wind. That very night the wind veered, and enabled the me- diaeval Agamemnon to quit his Aulis. With full sails, and a following southern breeze, the Norman Armada left the French shores and steered for England. The invaders crossed an undefended sea, and found an undefended coast. It was in Pevensey Bay, in Sussex, at Bulverhithe, between the castle of Pevensey and Hastings, that the last conquerors of this island landed on the 29th of September, 1066. Harold was at York, rejoicing over his recent victory, which had delivered England from her ancient Scandinavian foes, and resett- ling the government of the counties which Harald Hardrada had overrun, when the tidings reached him that Duke William of Nor- mandy and his host had landed on the Sussex shore. Harold in- stantly hurried southward to meet this long-expected enemy. The severe loss which his army had sustained in the battle with the Norwegians must have made it impossible for many of his veteran troops to accompany him in his forced march to London, and thence to Sussex. He halted at the capital only six days, and during that time gate orders for collecting forces from the southern and mid- land counties, and also directed his fleet to reassemble off the Sussex coast. Harold was well received in London, and his sum- mons to arms was promptly obeyed by citizen, by thane, by sokman, and by ceorl, for he had shown himself, during his brief reign, a just and wise king affable to all men, active for the good of his country, and (in the words of the old historian) sparing him- self from no fatigue by land or by sea. * He might have gathered a much more numerous army than that of William ; but his recent victory had made him over-confident, and he was irritated by the * See Roger de Hoveden and William of Malmestoury, cited in Tliierry. book iii. 158 DECISIVE BATTLES. reports of the country being ravaged by the invaders. As soon, therefore, as he had collected a small army in London, he marched off toward the coast, pressing forward as rapidly as his men could traverse Surrey and Sussex, in the hope of taking the Normans un- awares, as he had recently, by a similar forced march, succeeded in surprising the Norwegians. But he had now to deal with a foe equally brave with Harald Hardrada, and far more skilful and wary. The old Norman chroniclers describe the preparations of William on his landing with a graphic vigor, which would be wholly lost by transfusing their racy Norman couplets and terse Latin prose into the current style of modern history. It is best to follow them closely, though at the expense of much quaintness and occasional uncouthness of expression. They tell us how Duke William's own ship was the first of the Norman fleet. It was called the Mora, and was the gift of his duchess, Matilda. On the head of the ship, in the front, which mariners called the prow, there was a brazen child bearing an arrow with a bended bow. His face was turned toward England, and thither he looked as though he was about to shoot. The breeze became soft and sweet, and the sea was smooth for their landing. The ships ran on dry land, and each ranged by the other's side. There you might see the good sailors, the ser- geants, and squires sally forth and unload the ships ; cast the anchors, haul the roj)es, bear out shields and saddles, and land the war-horses and the palfreys. The archers came forth, and touched land the first, each with his bow strung, and with his quiver full of arrows slung at his side. All were shaven and shorn ; and all clad in short garments, ready to attack, to shoot, to wheel about and skirmish. All stood well equipped, and of good courage for the fight ; and they scoured the whole shore, but found not an armed man there. After the archers had thus gone forth, the knights landed all armed, with their hauberks on, their shields slung at their necks, and their helmets laced. They formed together on the shore, each armed, and mounted on his war-horse ; all had their swords girded on, and rode forward into the country with their lances raised. Then the carpenters landed, who had great axes in their hands, and planes and adzes hung at their sides. They took counsel together, and sought for a good spot to place a castle on. They had brought with them in the fleet three wooden castles from Normandy in loieces, all ready for framing together, and they took the materials of one of these out of the ships, all shaped and pierced to receive the pins which they had brought cut and ready in large barrels ; and before evening had set in, they had finished a good fort on the English ground, and there they placed their stores. All then ate and drank enough, and were right glad that they were ashore. When Duke William himself landed, as he stepped on the shore, he slipped and fell forward upon his two hands. Forthwith all BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 159 raised a loud cry of distress. "An evil sign," said they, -'is here." But he cried out lustily, "See, my lords, by the splendor of God,* I have taken possession of England with both my hands. It is now mine, and what is mine is yours." The next day they marched along the sea-shore to Hastings. Near that place the duke fortified a camp, and set up the two other wooden castles. The foragers, and those who looked out for booty, seized all the clothing and provisions they could find lest what had been brought by the ships should fail them. And the English were to be seen fleeing befoie them, driving off their cattle, and quitting their houses. Many took shelter in burying-places, and even there they were in grievous alarm. Besides the marauders from the Norman camp, strong bodies of cavalry were detached by William into the country, and these, when Harold and his army made their rapid march from London southward, fell back in good order upon the main body of the Normans, and reported that the Saxon king was rushing on like a madman. But Harold, when he found that his hopes of surprising his adversary were vain, changed his tactics, and halted about seven miles from the Norman lines. He sent some spies, who spoke the French language, to examine the number and preparations of the enemy, who, on their return, related with astonishment that there were more priests in "William's camp than there were fighting men in the English army. They had mistaken for priests all the Norman soldiers who had short hair and shaven chins, for the English lay- men were then accustomed to wear long hair and mustachios. Harold, who knew the Norman usages, smiled at their words, and said, "Those whom you have seen in such numbers are not priests, but stout soldiers, as they will soon make us feel " Harold's army was far inferior in number to that of the Normans, and some of his captains advised him to retreat ujDon London, and lay waste the countrj'^, so as to starve down the strength of the invaders. The policy thus recommended was unquestionably the wisest, for the Saxon fleet had now reassembled, and intercepted all William's communications with Normandy ; and as soon as his stores of provisions were exhausted, he must have moved forward upon London, where Harold, at the head of the full military strength of the kingdom, could have defied his assault, and prob- ably might have witnessed his rival's destruction by famine and disease without having to strike a single blow. But Harold's bold blood was up, and his kindly heart could not endure to inflict on his South Saxon subjects even the temporary misery of wasting the country. "He would not burn houses and villages, neither would he take away the substance of his people." Harold's brothers, Gurth and Leofwine, were with him in the camp, and Gurth endeavored to persuade him to absent him-self * William's customary oatJi. ICO IlECTSIVE BATTLES. from the battle. The incident shows how well devised had been WilUiun's scheme of bindinoj Harold by the oath on the holy relics. " . y brother," said the young Saxon prince, "thou canst not deny ,e Achilles, he gave up the uead body of his fallen foe to a jjarent's supplications, and the remains of King Harold were depos^ited with regal honors in Wal- tham Abbey. On Christmas day in the same year William the Conqueror was crowned at London King of England. Synopsis op Events between the Battle op Hastings, a.d. 1066, AND Joan oe Abo's Victoey at Orleans, a.d. 1429. A.D. 1066-1087. Reign of William the Conqueror. Frequent rising/ s of the English against him, which are quelled with merci- less rigor. 1096. The first Crusade. * See them conected m ^ingard, x., 411. «<. seq Thierry, i,'i09; Slian» Turner, i.; 82; and Hfstoire de Normandi«\ par Liicguet, p i«42. 1 76 DECISIVE BA TTLES. 1112. Commencement of the disputes about investures between the emperors and tlie popes. 1140. Foundation of the city of Lnbec, whence originated the Hanseatic League. Commencement of the feuds in Italy between the Guelfs and the Ghibellines. 1146. The second Crusade. 1154. Henry II. becomes King of England. Under him Thomas a Becket is made Archbishop of Canterbury : the first instance of any man of the Saxon race being raised to high office in Church or State since the Conquest. 1170. Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, lands with an English army in Ireland. 1189. Eichard Coeur de Lion becomes King of England. He and King Philip Augustus of France join in the third Crusade. 1199-1204. On the death of Kmg Eichard, his brother John claims and makes himself master of England and Normandy, and the other large continental possessions of the early Plantagenet princes. Philip Augustus asserts the cause of Prince Arthur, John's nephew, against him. Arthur is murdered, but the French king continues the war against John, and conquers from him Normandy, Brittany, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, and Poictiers. 1215. The "barons, the freeholders, the citizens, and the yeomen of England rise against the tyranny of John and his foreign favor- ites. They compel him to sign Magna Charta. This is the commencement of our nationality: for our history from this time forth is the history of a national life, then complete and still in being. All English history before this period is a mere history of elements, of their collisions, and of the processes of their fusion. For upward of a century after the Conqiiest, Anglo-Norman and Anglo-Saxon had kept aloof from each other: the one in haughty scorn, the other in sullen abhorrence. They were two peoples, though living in the same land. It is not until the thirteenth century, the period of the reigns of John and his son and grand- son, that we can perceive the existence of any feeling of common nationality among them. But in studying the history of these reigns, we read of the old dissensions no longer. The Saxon no more appears in civil war against the Norman, the Norman no longer scorns the language of the Saxon, or refuses to bear together with him the name of Englishman. No part of the community think themselves foreigners to another part. They feel that they ^re all one people, and they have learned to unite their efforts for the common purpose of protecting the rights and promoting the welfare of all. The fortunate loss of the Duchy of Normandy in John's reign greatly promoted these new feelings. Thenceforth our barons' only homes were in England. One language had, in the reign of Henry HI., become the language of the land, and that, also, had then assumed the form in which we still possess it One law, in the eye of which all freemen are equal without dis- SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETO. Ill tinction of race, "was modeled, and steadily enforced, and still continues to form tlie ground-work of our judicial system.* 1273. Eodolpli of Hapsburg chosen Emperor of Germany. 1283. Edward I. conquers "Wales. 1346. Edward III. invades France, and gains the battle of Cressy. 1356. Battle of Poictiers. 1360. Treaty of Bretigny between England and France. By it Edward III. renounces his pretensions to the French crown. The treaty is ill kept, and indecisive hostilities continue between the forces of the two countries. 1414. Henry V. of England claims the crown of France, and resolves to invade and conquer that kingdom. At this time France was in the most deplorable state of weakness and suffering, from the factions that raged among her nobility, and from the cruel oppressions which the rival nobles practiced on the mass of the community. "The people were exhausted by taxes, civil wars, and military executions; and they had fallen into that worst of all states of mind, when the independence of one's country is thought no longer a paramount and sacred object. 'What can the English do to us worse than the thing we suffer at the hands of our own princes .-' ' was a common exclamation among the poor people of France, "t 1415. Henry invades France, takes Harfleur, and wins the greai^ battle of Agin court. 1417-1419. Henry conquers Normandy. The French Dauphin assassinates the Duke of Burgundy, the most powerful of the French nobles, at Montereau. The successor of the murdered duke becomes the active ally of the English. 1420. The treaty of Troyes is concluded between Henry Y. of England and Charles VI. of France, and Philip duke of Burgundy. By this treaty it was stipulated that Henry should marry the Princess Catharine of France; that King Charles, during his life- time, should keep the title and dignity of King of France, but that Henry should succeed him, and should at once be intrusted with the administration of the government, and that the French crown should descend to Henry's heirs; that France and England should forever be united under one king, but should still retain their several usages, customs, and privileges; that all the princes, peers, vassals, and communities of France should swear allegiance to Henry as their future king, and should pay him present obedi- ence as regent. That Henry should unite his arms to those of King Charles and the Duke of Burgundy, in order to subdue tde adherents of Charles, the pretended dauphin; and that these three princes should make no peace or truce with the dauphin but by the common consent of all three. * " Creasy's Text Book of the Constitution," p. 4. ^ t " Pictorial lilst. ol inglaiitl," vol. i., p. m. 178 DECISIVE BATTLES. 1421. Henry Y. gains several victories oyer the French, vrho refuse to acknowledge the treaty of Troyes. His son, afterward Henry VL, is born. 1422. Henrj' V. and Charles YI. of France die. Henry YI. is proclaimed at Paris King of England and France. The followers of the French dauphin proclnim him Charles YH., king of France. The Duke of Bedford, the English regent in France, defeats the army of the dauphin at Crevant. 1424. The Duke of Bedford gains the great victory of Verneuil over the French partisans of the dauphin and their Scotch aux- iliaries. 1428. The English begin the siege of Orleans. CHAPTEE IX. JOAN OF AKC'S VICTOKT OVEE THE ENGLISH AT OKUEANS, A.D. 1429. The eyes of all Europe were turned toward this scene, where It was rea-. sonably supposed the French were to make their last stand for maintaining^ tlie independence of theii" monai'chy and the rights of their sovereign.— Hume. TVhex, after their victory at Salamis, the generals of the various Greek states voted the prizes for distinguished individual merit, each assigned the first place of excellence to himself, but they all concurred in giving their second votes to Themistocles,* This was looked'on as a decisive proof that Themistocles ought to be ranked first of all. If we were to endeavor, by a similar test, to ascertain which European nation had contributed the most to the progress of European civilization, we should find Italy, Germany, England, and Spain each claiming the first degree, but each also naming France as clearly nest in merit. It is impossible to deny her par- amount importance in history. Besides the formidable part that she has for nearly three centuries played, as the Bellona of the European commonwealth of states, her influence during all this period over the arts, the literature, the manners, and the feelings of mankind, has been such as to make the crisis of her earlier fortunes a point of world-wide interest ; and it may be asserted, without exaggeration, that the future career of every nation was involved in the result of the struggle by which the unconscious heroine of France, in the beginning of the fifteenth century, rescued her country from becoming a second Ireland under the yoke of the triumphant English. * Plutarch, Vit. Them., 17. JOAir OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 179 Seldom lias the extinction of a nation's independence appeared more inevitable than was the case in France when the English invaderfi completed their lines round Orleans, four, hundred and twenty-two years ago. A series of dreadful defeats had thinned the chivalry of France, and daunted the sjoirits of her soldiers. A foreign king had been jproclaimed in her capital ; and foreign armies of the bravest veterans, and led by the ablest captains then knovni in the world, occupied the fairest portions of her territor3^ Worse to her, even, than the fierceness and the strength of her foes, were the factions, the vices and the crimes of her own children. Heif native prince was a dissolute trifler, stained with assassination of the most powerful noble of the land,' whose son, in revenge, had leagued himself with the enemy. Many more of her nobility, many of her prelates, her magistrates, and rulers, had sworn fealty to the English king. The condition of the peasantry amid the general prevalence of anarchy and brigandage, which were added to the customary devastations of contending armies, was wretched beyond the power of language to describe. The sense of terror and wretchedness seemed to have extended itself even to the brute creation. "In sooth, the estate of France was then most miserable. There appeared nothing but a horrible face, confusion, poverty, desola- tion, solitarinesse, and feare. The lean and bare laborers in the country did terrific even theeves themselves, who had nothing left them to spoile but the carkasses of these poore miserable creatures, "vvandering up and down like ghostes drawne out of their graves. The least farmes and hamlets were fortified by these robbers, Eng- lish, Bourguegnons, and French, every one striving to do his worst : all men-of-war were well agreed to sjDoile the countryman . and merchant. JEven the cattell, accustomed to the laruwe hell, the&igne of the enemy's approach, would run home (/ themselves without any guide by this accustomed misery."* In the autumn of 1428, the English, who were already masters of all France north of the Loire, prepared their forces for the conquest of the southern provinces, which yet adhered to the cause of the dauphin. The city of Orleans, on the banks of that river, wis looked upon as the last stronghold of the French national party. If the English could once obtain possession of it their victorious progress through the residue of the kingdom seemed free from ar.y serious obstacle. Accordingly the Earl of Salisbury, one of the bravest and most experienced of the English generals, who had been trained under Henry V., marched to the attack of the all-im- portant city ; and, after reducing several places of inferior conse- quence in the neighborhood, appeared with his ariny before its walls on the 12th of October, 1428. The city of Orleans itself was on the north side of the Loire, hut * De Series, quoted In the Notes to Soutliey's " Joan of Arc.*^ 180 DECISIVE I^ATTZrS. its suburbs extended fur on the southern side, and a strong bridge connected them with tlie town. A lortiticntion, which in modern military phrase wouki be termed a tete-du-pont, defended the bridge head on the southern side, and two towers, called the Tourelles, were built on the bridge itself, at a little distance from the tete-du-pont. Indeed, the solid masonry of the bridge termin- ated at the Tourelles; and the communication thence withthetete- du-pont and the southern shore was by means of a draw-bridge. The Tourelles and the tete-du-pont formed together a strong forti- fied post, capable of containing a garrison of considerable strength; ' and so long as this w'as in possession of the Orleannais, they could communicate freely with the southern provinces, the inhabitants of which, like the Orleannais themselves, supported the cause of their dauphin against the foreigners. Lord Salisbury rightly judged the capture of the Tourelles to be the most material step toward the reduction of the city itself. Accordingly, he directed his principal operations against this post, and after some severe repulses, he carried the Tourelles by storm on the 23d of October. The French, however, broke down the arches of the bridge that •were nearest to the north bank, and thus rendered a direct assault from the Tourelles upon the city impossible. But the i:)ossession of this post enabled the English to distress the town greatly by a battery of cannon which they planted there, and which commanded some of the principal streets. It has been observed by Hume that this is the first siege in which any important use appears to have been made of artillery. And even at Orleans both besiegers and besieged seem to have employed their cannons merely as instruments of destruction against their enemy's in en, and not to have trusted them as engines of demoli- tion against their enemy's walls and works. The efficacy ot cannon in breaching solid masonry was taught Europe by the Tiirks.a few years afterward, in the memorable siege of Constantinople.* In our French wars, as in the wars of the classic nations, famine was looked on as the surest weapon to compel the submission of a well- walled town ; and the great object of the besiegers was to eflect a complete circumvallation. The great ambit of the walls of < rleans, and the facilities which the river gave for obtaining success and supplies, rendered the capture of the town by this process a matter of great difficulty. Nevertheless, Lord Salisbury, and Lord Suffolk, who succeeded him in command of the English after his death by a cannon ball, carried on the necessary w'ork with great skill and resolution. Six strongly-fortified posts, called bastilles, were formed at certain intervals roiind the town, and the purpose of the English engineers was to draw strong lines between them. During the winter little progress was made with the entrenchments, but * The occasional employment of artillery against sllgM defenses, as at Jaxgeau l]i 1429, is no real exception. JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 181 whentlie spring of 1429 came, the English resumed their work with activity ; the communications between the city and the country became more difficult, and the approach of want began already to be felt in Orleans. The besieging force also fared hardly for stores and provisions, until relieved by the effects of a brilliant victory which Sir John Fastolfe, one of the best English generals, gained at Kouvrai, near Orleans, a few days after Ash Wednesday, 1429, With only six- teen hundred fighting men, Sir John completely defeated an army of French and Scots, four thousand strong, which had been col- lected for the purpose of aiding the Orleannais and harassing the besiegers. After this encounter, which seemed decisively to con- firm the superiority of the English in battle over their adversaries, Fastolfe escorted large supplies of stores and food to Suffolk's camp and the spirits of the English rose to the highest pitch at the pros- pect of the speedy capture of the city before them, and the conse- quent subjection of all France beneath their arms. The Orleannais now, in their distress, offered to surrender the city into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy, who, though the ally of the English, was yet one of their native princes. The Regent Bedford refused these terms, and the speedy submission of the city to the English seemed inevitable. The Dauphin Charles, who was now at Chinon with his remnant of a court despaired of continuing any longer the struggle for his crown, and was only prevented from abandoning the country by the more masculine spirits of his mistress and his queen. Yet neither they nor the boldest of Charles's captains, could have shown him where to find resources for prolonging the war ; and least of all could any human skill have predicted the quarter whence rescue was to come to Orleans and to France. In the village of Domremy, on the borders of Lorraine, there was a poor peasant of the name of Jacques d'Arc, respected in his station of life, and who had reared a family in virtuous habits and in the practice of the strictest devotion. His eldest daughter was named by her parents Jeannette, but she was called Jeanne by the French, which was Latinized into Johanna, and Anglicized into Joan, * At the time when Joan first attracted attention, she was about eighteen years of age. She was naturally of a susceptible disposi- tion, .which diligent attention to the legends of saints and tales of fairies, aided by the dreamy loneliness of her life while tending her father's flocks, f had made peculiarly prone to enthusiastic fer- * " Respondit quod in partibus sui3 vocabatur Johanneta, et postquam venlt in Franciam vocata est Jolianna."— Proces de Jeanne d' Arc, L, p. 46 t Soutliey, in one of tlie speeches wtiic'ti lie puts in tlie moutli of Joan of Arc, has made her beautifully describe the effect on her mind of the scenei7 In which she dwelt. " Here in solitude and peace 18S DECISIVE BATTIESI. Tor. At the* same timo slie was eminent for piety and "Diii-ity of roul, and for her compassionate gentleness to the sick ani\ the dis- tressed. The district -^-hero she dwelt had escaped comparmt-ively free from the ravages of war. but the ap]>roach of roving bands of Unr- gundian or English troops treqnontly spread terror through Dom- remy. Once the village had been i^hindered by some of these marauders, and Jotxn and her family had been driven from their home, and forced to seek refuge for a time at Neufchateau. The peasantry in Domremy were principally attached to the house of Orleans and the dauphin, and all the miseries which France en- dured Mere there imputed to the Burgundian faction and their allies, the English, who were seeking to enslave unhappy France. Thus, from infancy to girlhood, Joan had heard continually of the woes of the war, and had herself witnessed some of the wretchedness that it caused. A feeling of intense patriotism grew in her with her growth. The deliverance of France fnnn the English was the subject of her reveries by day and her dreams by night. Blended with these aspirations were recollections of the miraculous interpositions of Heaven in favor of the oppressed, which she liad learned from the legends oi her church. Her faith was undoubting ; her prayers were fervent. "She feared no dan- ger, for she felt no sin," and at length she believed herself to have received the supernatural inspiration which she sought. ^ According to herowun:irrative. delivered by her to her merciless inquisitors in the time of her captivity and approaching death, she was about thirteen years old when her revelations commenced. Her own words describe them best.* "At the age of thirteen, a voice from God came to her to help her in ruling herself, and that My soul was nursed, amid the loveliest scenes Of unpolluted nature. Sweet It was, As the white mists ot moniiug roird away. To seethe mouutaiu's wooded heights appear Parkin the early dawn, and mark Its slope With g:orse-tlowers irlowiuir. as the rising sim On the groldeu ripeness poiir'd a deepening light, Pleasiitit at noon Ix^side the vocal hrook To lay me down, and watch the iloatjng clouds, And shape to Fani'ys wUd simihtudos Their ever var.ving forms; and oh ! how sweet, To drive my dock at evening to the fold, And hasten to our little hut. and liear The voice of idndness bid me welcome home." The only foundation lor the story told t>y the Burgundlan partisan, Moiv Htrelet, and adopted by Hume, of ,ioau having been b'-onght up as a servant, J3 the •jlrcmustancc of her having been once. Avith the rest of her family obiiired to take refuixe in an aubt-r^w in X"utohat«;'au »'or i^ftec.u days, when a party of liurgundian cavalry made an ineui"sion iiitc i)omremy, (See the JOAJf OF ARC'S VIOTORT AT ORLEANS. 183 voice came to bor about tbe bour of noon, in Bummer time, wbile Bbe was in ber father'n garden. And sbe bad fasted the day before. And sbe beard the voice on ber right, in tbe direction of the church ; and when she heard the voice, she saw also a bright light." Afterward St. Michael, and St. Margaret, and St. Catha- rine appeared to her. They wore always in a halo of glory ; she could see that their beads were crowned with jewels ; and she heard their voices, which were sweet and mild. Sbe did not distinguish their arms or limbs. She beard them more frequently than sbe saw them ; and the usual time when she heard them was when the church bells were sounding for prayer. And if she was in the woods when she beard them, she could plainly distinguish their voices drawing near to ber, "When sbe thought that she discerned the Heavenly Voices, she knelt down, and bowed herself to the ground. 'Iheir presence gladdened her even to tc^ars ; and after they departed, sbe wept be- cause they bad not taken her back to Paradise. They always spoke soothingly to her. They told her that France would be saved, and that she was to save it. Such were the visions and tbe voices that moved the spirit of the girl of thirteen ; and as she grew older, they became more frequent and more clear. At last tbe tidings of tbe siege of Orleans reached Domremy. Joan heard ber parents and neighbors talk of the sufferings of its population, of the ruin which its capture would bring on their lawful sovereign, a»d of tbe distress of the dauphin and bis court, Joan's heart was sorely troubled at the thought of the fate of Orleans ; and her Voices now ordered her to leave ber home ; and warned her that she was tbe instrument chosen by Heaven for driving away the English from that city, and for taking the dauphin to be anointed king of tbe Rheims. At length she informed ber parents of her divine mission, and told them that she must go to the Sire de Baudricourt, who commanded at Vaucouleurs, and who was the appointed person to bring ber into the presence of the king, whom she was to save. Neither tbe anger nor the grief of ber parents, who said they would rather see ber drowned than exposed to the contamination of the camp, could move her from ber pur- pose. One of her uncles consented to take ber to Vaucouleurs, where De Baudricourt at first thought ber mad, and derided ber , but by degrees be was led to believe, if not in her inspiration, at least in her enthusiasm, and in its possible utility to tbe daupbinSs cause. The inhabitants of Vauconleurs were completely won over to her side by the piety and devoutness which she displayed, and by her firm assurance in the truth of her mission. She told them that it was God's will that she should go to the king, and that no one but her could save the kingdom of France. She said that she her- self would rather remain with her poor mother, and spin ; but the Lord had ordered her ibrtk, The fame of " The Ma^" m slid 'was 184 DECISIVE BATTLES. termed, the renown of her holiness, and of her mission, spread far and wide. Baudricourt sent her with an escort to Chinon, where the Dauphin Charles was dallying away his time. Her Voices had bidden her assume the arms and the apparel of a knight ; and the wealthiest inhabitant of Vaueouleiirs had vied with each other in equipping her with war-horse, armor, and sword. On reaching Chinon, she was, after some delay, admitted into the presence of the dauphin. Charles designedly dressed himself far less richly than many of his courtiers were appareled, and mingled with them, when Joan was introduced in order to see if the Holy Maid would address her exhortations to the wrong person. But she in- stantly singled him out, and kneeling before him, said, "Most noble dauphin, the King of Heaven announces to you by me that you shall be anointed and crowned king in the city of Eheims, and that you shall be his viceregent in France." His features may probably have been seen by her previously in portraits, or have been described to her by others ; but she herself believed that her Toices inspired her when she addressed the king ;* and the report soon spread abroad that the Holy Maid had found the king by a miracle ; and this, with many other similar nimors, augmented the renown and influence that she now rapitlly acquired. The state of public feeling in Franco was now favorable to an enthusiastic belief in a divine interposition in favor of the party that had hitherto been unsuccessful and oppressed. The humil- iations wliich had befallen the French royal family and nobility were looked on as the jast judgments of God upon them for their vice and impietj". The misfortunes that had come upon France as a nation were believed to have been drawn down by national sins. The English, who had been the instruments of Heaven's wrath against France, seemed now, by their pride and cruelty, to be litting objects of it themselves. France in that age was a pro- foundly religious country. There was ignorance, there was su- perstition, there was bigotry; but there was Faith — a faith that itself worked true miracles, even while it believed in unreal ones. At this time, also one of those devotional movements began among the clergy in France, which from time to time occur in national churches, without it being possible for the historian to assign any aeiequate human cause for their immediate date or extension. Numberless friars and priests traversed the rural districts and towns of France, preaching to the people that they must seek from Heaven a deliverance from the pillages of the soldiery and the in- solence of the foreign oppressors, f The idea of a Providence that works only by general laws was wholly alien to the feelings of the age. Every political event as well as every natural pheno- menon, was believed to be the immediate result of a special man- * " Proces de Jeanne d'Arc." vol. i, p. 56. t See siiamondl, voL xiii,, p. lu ; Midielet, vol. v., livre, 2. JOAN OF AliC'8 VICTOnr AT ORLEANS. 185 date of God. This led to the belief that his holy angels and saints were constantly employed in executing his commands and mingling in the affairs of men. The Church encouraged these feelings, and at the same time sanctioned the concurrent popular belief that hosts of evil spirits were also ever actively interposing in the current of earthly events, with whom sorcerers and wizards could league themselves, and thereby obtain the exercise of super- natural power. Thus all things favored the influence which Joan obtained both over friends and foes. The French nation as well as the English and the Burgundians, readily admitted that superhuman beings inspired her; the only question was whether these beings were good or evil angels; whether she brought with her " rirs from heaven or blasts from hell." This question seemed to her coun- trymen to be decisively settled in her favor by the austere sanctity of her life, by the holiness of her conversation, but still more by her exemplary attention to all the services and rites of the Church. The dauphin at first feared the injury that might be done to his cause if he laid himself open to the charge of having leagued him- self with a sorceress. Every imaginable test therefore, was resorted to in order to set Joan's orthodoxy and purity beyond suspicion. At last Charles and his advisers felt safe in accepting her services as those of a true and virtuous Christian daughter of the Holy Church. It is indeed probable that Charles himself and some of his coun- selors may have suspected Joan of being a mere enthusiast, and it is certain that Dunois, and others of the best generals, took considerable latitude in obeying or deviating from the military orders that she gave. But over the mass of the people and the soldiery her influence was unbounded. While Charles and his doctors of theology, and court ladies, had been deliberating as to recognizing or dismissing the Maid, a considerable period had passed away, during which a small army, the last gleamings, as it seemed, of the English sword, had been assembled at Blois, un- der Dunois, La Hire, Xaintrailles, and other chiefs, who to their natural valor were now beginning to unite the wisdom that is taught by misfortune. It was resolved to send Joan with this force and a convoy of provisions to Orleans. The distress of that city had now become urgent. But the communication with the open country was not entirely cut off" : the Orleannais had heard of the Holy Maid whom Providence had raised up for their deliv- erance, and their messengers earnestly implored the dauphin to send her to them without delay. Joan appeared at the camp at Blois, clad in a new suit of bril- liant white armor, mounted on a stately black war-horse, and with a lance in her right hand, which she had learned to wield with skill and grace.* Her head was unhelmeted; so that all could * See the description o£ her toy Gui de Laval, quoted in the note to Mlche- 186 DECISIVE Battles. behold her fair and expressive features, lier deep-set and earnest eyes, and her long black hair, which was parted across her lore- head, and bound by a ribbon behind her back. She wore at her side a small battle-axe, and the consecrated sword marked on the blade with five crosses, which had at her bidding been taken for her from the shrine of St. Catharine at Fierbois. A page carried • her banner, which she had caused to be made and embroidered as her Voices enjoined. It was white satin,* strewn with fleurs-de-lis; and on it were the words, "Jhesls Makia," and the representa- tion of the Saviour in his glory. Joan afterward generally bore her banner herself in battle; she said that though she loved her tword much, she loved her banner forty times as much; and she loved to carry it, because it could not kill any one. Thus accoutered, she came to lead the troops of France, who looked with soldierly admiration on her well-proportioned and upright figure, the skill with which she managed her war-horse, and the easy grace with which she handled her weapons. Her military education had been short, but she had availed herself of it well. She had also the good sense to interfere little with the maneuvers of the troops, leaving these things to Dunois, and others whom she had the discernment to recognize as the best officers in the camp. Her tactics in action were simple enough. As she herself described it, "I used to say to them, 'Go boldly in among the English,' and then I used to go boldly in myself."t Such, as she told her inquisitors, was the only spell she used, and it was one of j)Ower. But while interfering little with the mili- tary discipline of the troops, in all matters of moral discipline she was inflexibly strict. All the abandoned followers of the camp were driven away. She compelled both generals and soldiers to attend regularly at confessional. Her chaplain and other priests marched with the army under her orders; and at every halt, an altar was set up and the sacrament adrainistered. No oath or foul language passed without punishment or censure. Even the roughest and most hardened veterans obeyed her. They put off for a time the bestial coarseness which had grown on them dur- ing a life of bloodshed and rapine; they felt that they must go forth in a new spirit to a new career, and acknowledged the beauty of the holiness in which the heaven-sent Maid was leading them to certain victory. Joan marched from Blois on the 25th of April with a convoy of provisions for Orleans, accompanied by Dunois, La Hire, and the other chief captains of the French, and on the evening of the 28th they approached the town. In the words of the old chronicler let, p. 69 ; and see the account of tlie banner at Orleans, wMch is believed to bear an authentic portrait of the Maid, in Murrays " Hand-book Ur France," p. 175. * " Proc«s de Jeanne d'Arc,' toI, i.. p. 238, t I(i< US*. JOAN OF auc's vtcTonr at ohljuaks. w Hall:* "The Englishmen, perceiving that thei within could not long continue for faute of vitaile and pouder, kepte not their ■watche so diligently as thei were accustomed, nor scoured now the countrey environed as thei before had ordained. Whiche neg- ligence the citizens shut in perceiving, sent worde thereof to the Prench captaines, which, with Pucelle, in the dedde tyme of the nighte, and in a greate rayne and thundere, with all their vitaile and artillery, entered into the citie." When it was day, the Maid rode in solemn procession through the city, clad in complete armor, and mounted on a white horse. Dunois was by her side, and all the bravest knights of her army and of the garrison followed in her train. The whole population tlirongel around her; and men, women, and children strove to toucli her garments, or her banner, or her charger. They poured forth blessings on her, whom they already considered their deliv- erer. In the words used by two of them afterward before the tribunal which reversed the sentence, but could not restore the life of the Virgin-martyr of France, "the people of Orleans, when they first saw her in their city, thought that it was an angel from heaven that had come down to save them." Joan spoke gently in reply to their acclamations and addresses. She told them to fear God, and trust in him for safety from the fury of their enemies. She first went to the principal church, where Te Deum was chanted; and then she took up her abode at tl:c house of Jacques Bourgier, one of the principal citizens, and whose wife was a matron of good repute. She refused to attend a splendid banquet which had been provided for her, and passed nearly all her time in prayer. When it was known by the English that the Maid was in Orleans, their minds were not less occupied about her than were the minds of those in the city ; but it was in a very different spirit. The English believed in her supernatural mission as firmly as the French did, but they thought her a sorceress who had come to overthrow them by her enchantments. An old prophecy, which told that a damsel from Lorraine was to save France, had long been current, and it was known and applied to Joan by foreigners as well as by the natives. For months the English had heard of the coming Maid, and the tales of miracles which she was said to have wrought have been listened to by the rough yeomen of the English camp with anxious curiosity and secret awe. She had sent a her- ald to the English generals before she marched for Orleans, and he had summoned the English generals in the name of the Most High to give up to the Maid, who was sent by Heaven, the keys of the French cities which they had wrongfully taken ; and he also solemnly adjured the English troops, whether archers, or men ot the companies of war, or gentlemen, or others, who were before the city of Orleans, to depart thence to their homes, under peril * HaU,X.12T. _. 188 DECISIVE BATTLES. of being visited by the judgment of God. On ber arrival in Or- leans, Joan sent another similar message ; but the English scoffed at her from their towers, and threatened to burn her heralds. She determined, before she shed the blood of the besiegers, to re- peat the warning with her own voice ; and accordingly, she mounted one of the boulevards of the town, which was within hearing of the Tourelles, and thence she spoke to the English, and bade them depart otherwise they would meet with shame and woe. Sir William Gladsdale (whom the French call Glacidas) Icommanded the English post at the Tourelles, and he and another English of&cer replied by bidding her go home and keep her cows, and by ribald jests, that brought tears of shame and indignation into her eyes. But, though the English leaders vaunted aloud, the effect produced on their army by Joan's presence in Orleans was proved four days after her arrival, when, on the approach of re-enforcements and stores to the town, Joan and La Hire marched out to meet them, and escorted the long train of provision wagons safely into Orleans, between the bastilles of the English, who cowered behind their walls instead of charging fiercely and fear- lessly, as had been their wont, on any French band that dared to show itself within reach. Thus far she had prevailed without striking a blow ; but the time was now come to test her courage amid the horrors of actual slaughter. On the afternoon of the day on which she had escorted the re-enforcements into the city, while she was resting fatigued at home, Dunois had seized an advantageous opportunity of at- tacking the English bastille of St. Loup, and a fierce assault of the Orleannais had been made on it, which the English garrison of the fort stubbornly resisted. Joan was roused by a sound which she believed to be that of her Heavenly Voices ; she called for her arms and horse, and, quickly equipping herself, she mounted to ride off to where the fight was raging. In her haste she had for- gotten her banner ; she rode back, and, without dismounting, had it given to her from the window, and then she galloped to the gate whence the sally had been made. On her way she met some of the wounded French who had been carried back from the fight. Ah ! " she exclaimed, " I never can see French blood flow without my hair standing on end." She rode out of the gate, and met the tide of her countrymen, who had been repulsed from the English fort, and were flying back to Orleans in confusion. At the sight of the Holy Maid and her banner they rallied, and renewed the assault. Joan rode forward at their head, waving her banner and cheering them on. The English quailed at what they believed to. be the charge of hell ; Saint Loup was stormed, and its defenders put to the sword, except some few, whom Joan succeeded in sav- ing. AD her woman's gentleness returned when the combat was over. It W9-S the first time that she had ever seen a battle-field. She wept at the sight of so many bleeding corpses ; and her tears JOAN OF ARC'S VICTORY AT ORLEANS. 189 flowed doubly when she reflected that they were the bodies of Christian men who had died without confession. _ , ^ The next day was Ascension day, and it was passed by Joan m prayer But on the following morrow it was resolved by the chieis of the garrison to attack the English forts on the south of the river For this purpose they crossed the river m boats, and alter some severe fighting, in which the Maid was wounded m the heel, both the English bastilles of the Augustins and St. Jean de Blanc were captured. The Tourelles were now the only post which the besiegers held on the south of the river. But that post was for- midably strong, and by its command of the bridge, it was the key to the deliverance of Orleans. It was known that a fresh English army was approaching under Fastolfe to re-enforce the besiegers, and should that army arrive while the Tourelles were yet in the possession of their comrades, there was great peril of all the advan- tages which the French had gained being nullified, and o± the siege being again actively carried on. ., ^^ m n It was resolved, therefore, by the French to assail the Tourelles at once, while the enthusiasm which the presence and the heroic valor of the Maid had created was at its height. But the enterprise was difficult. The rampart of the tete-du-pont, or landward bul- wark, of the Tourelles was steep and high, and Sir John Gladsdale occupied this all-important fort with five hundred archers and men-at-arms, who were the very flower of the English army. Early in the morning of the seventh of May, some thousands of the best French troops in Orleans heard mass and attended the confessional by Joan's orders, and then crossing the river in boats, as on the preceding day, they assailed the bulwark of the Tou- relles ' with light hearts and heavy hands." But Gladsdale s men, encouraged by their bold and skilful leader, made a resolute and able defense. The Maid planted her banner on the edge of the fosse, and then springing down into the ditch, she placed the first ladder afifainst the wall and began to mount. An English archer sent an arrow at her, which pierced her corslet, and wounded her severely between the neck and shoulder'. She fell bleeding from the ladder ; and the English were leaping down from the wall to capture her, but her followers bore her off. She was carried to the rear, and laid upon the grass; her armor was taken off, and the anguish of her wound and the sight of her blood made her at first tremble and weep. But her confidence in her celestial mission soon returned : her patron saints seemed to stand before her, and re- assure her. She sat up and drew the arrow out with her own hands. Some of the soldiers who stood by wished to staunch the blood by saying a charm over the wound ; but she forbade them, saying that she did not wish to be cured by unhallowed means. She had the wound dressed with a little oil, and then bidding her confessor come to her, she betook herself to prayer. In the mean while, the English in the bulwark of the Tourelles 190 DECISIVE BATTLES. had repulsed the oft-renewed efforts of the French to scale the ■wall. Dunois, who commanded the assailants, was at last dis- couraged, and gave orders for a retreat to be sounded. Joan sent for him and the other generals, and implored them not to despair. "By my God," she said to them, " j^ou shall soon enter in there. Do not doubt it. When you see my banner wave again up to the wall, to your arms again ! fi)r the fort is yours. For the present, rest a little, and take some food and drink." " They did so," says the old chronicler of the siege, * " for they obeyed her marvelously," The famtness caused by her wound had now passed off, and she headed the French in another rush against the bulwark. The English, who had thought her slain, were alarmed at her reap- pearance, while the Fr -nch pressed furiously and fanatically for- ward. A Biscay an soldier was carrying Joan's banner. She had told the troops that directly the banner touched the wall, they should enter. The Biscayan waved the banner forward from the edge of the fosse, and touched the wall with it ; and then all the French host swarmed madly up the ladders that now were raised in all directions against the English fort. At this crisis, the efforts of the English garrison were distracted by an attack from another quarter. The French troops who had been left in Orleans had placed some planks over the broken arch of the bridge, and advanced across them to the assault of the Tourelles on the northern side. Gladsdale resolved to withdraw his men from the landward bul- wark, and concentrate his whole force in the Tourelles themselves. He was passing for this purpose across the draw-bridge that c>n- nected the Tourelles and the tete-du-pont, when Joan, who by this time had scaled the wall of the bulwark, called out to him, "Sur- render! surrender to the King of Hearen ! Ah, Glacidas, you have foully wronged me with your words, but I have great pity on your soul, and the souls of your men." The Englishman, disdain- ful of her summons, was striding on across the draw-bridge, when a cannon shot from the town carried it away, and Gladsdale per- ished in the water that ran beneath. After his fall, the remnant of the English abandoned all farther resistance. Three hundred of them had been killed m the battle, and two hundred were made prisoners. The broken arch was speedily repaired by the exulting Orlean- nais, and Joan made her triumphal re-entry into the city by the bridge that had so long been closed. Every church in Orleans rang out its gratulating peal ; and throughout the night the sounds of rejoicing echoed, and bonfires blazed up from the city. But in the lines and forts which tha besiegers yet retained on the north- ern shore, there was anxious watching of the generals, and there was desponding gloom among the soldiery. Even Talbot now counseled retreat. On the following morning the Orleannais, * "Journal du Siege d'Orleans," p. 8T. JOAN OF ARC'S VICTOET AT ORLEANS. 191 from their walls, saw the great forts called " London" and "St. Lawrence " in flames, and witnessed their invaders busy in destroy- ing the stores and munitions which had been relied on for the destruction of Orleans. Slowly and sullenly the English army retired ; and not before it had drawn up in battle array opposite to the city, as if to challenge the garrison to an encounter. The French troops we eager to go out and attack, but Joan forbade it. The day was Sunday, " Li the name of God," she said, "let them depart, and let its return thanks to God." She led the soldiers and citizens forth from Orleans, but not fo:" the shedding of blood. They passed in solemn procession round the city walls, and then, while their retiring enemies were yet in sight, they knelt in thanksgiving to God for the deliverance which he had vouchsafed them. Within three months from the time of her first interview with the dauphin, Joan had fulfilled the first part of her promise, the raising of the siege of Orleans. "Within three months more she had fulfilled the second part also, and had stood with her banner in her hand by the high altar at Eheims, while he was anointed and crowned as King Charles VII. of France. In the interval she had taken Jargeau, Troyes, and other strong places, and she had defeated an English army in a fair field atPatay. The enthusiasm of her countrymen knew no bounds ; but the importance of her services, and especially of her primary achievement at Orleans, may perhaps be best proved by the testimony of her enemies. There is extant a fragment of a letter from the Eegent Bedford to his royal nephew, Henry VI., in which he bewails the turn that the war has taken, and especially attributes it to the raising of the siege of Orleans by Joan. Bedford's own words, which are preserved in Bymer, * are as follows : "And alle thing there prospered for you til the tyme of the Siege of Orleans taken in hand God knoweth by what advis. "At tiie whiche tyme, after the adventure fallen to the persone of my cousin of Salisbury, whom God assoille, there felle by the hand of God as it seemeth, a great strook upon your peuple that was assembled there in grete nombre, caused in grete partie, as y trowe, of lakke of sadde beleve, and of unlevefulle doubte, that thei hadde of a disciple and lymeof theFeende, called the Pucelle, that used fals enchantments and sorcerie. "The whiche strookeand discomfiture noW; oonly lessedin grete partie the nombre of your peuple there, but as well withdrewe the courage of the remenant in merveillous wyse, and couraiged your adverse partie and ennemys to assemble them forthwith in grete nombre." When Charles had been anointed King of France, Joan believed that her mission was accomplished. And, in truth, the deliverance Vol. X., p, 408. 192 DECISIVE BATTLES. of France from the English, though not completed for many years afterward, was then insured. The ceremony of a royal coronation and anointnunt was not in those da\s regarded as a mere costly formality. It was believed to confer the sanction and the grace of Heavfn uj^on the prince, who had previously ruled with mere human authority. Thenceforth he was the Lord's Anointed. Moreover, one of the difficulties that had previously lain in the way of many Frenchmen when called on to support Charles VII. was now removed. He had been publicly stigmatized, even by his own parents, as no true son of the royal race of France. The queen- mother, the English, and the partisans of Burgundy called him the "Pretender to the title of Dauphin ; '' but those w'ho had been led to doubt his legitimacy were cured of their skepticism by the vic- tories of the Holy Maid and by the fiilfillment of her pledges. They thought that Heaven had now declared itself in favor of Charles as the true heir of the crown of St. Louis, and the tales about his being spurious w^ere thenceforth regarded as mere English calum- nies. AVith this strong tide of national feeling in his favor, with victorious generals and soldiers round him, and a dispirited and divided enemy before him, he could not fail to conquer, though hi^ own imprudence and misconduct, and the stiibborn valor which the English still from time to time displayed, prolonged the war in France until the civil war of the Koses broke out in England, and left France to peace and repose. Joan knelt before the French king in tb.e cathedral of Eheims, and shed tears of joy. She said that she had then fulfilled the work which the Lord had commanded her. The j^oung girl now asked for her dismissal. She wished to return to her peasant home, to tend her parents' flocks again, and live at her own wall in her native village.* She had always believed that her career would be a short one . But Charles and his captains were loth to loose the presence of one who had such influence upon the soldiery and the people. They persuaded her to stay with the army. She still showed the same bravery and zeal for the cause of France. She still was as fervent as before in her prayers, and as exemplary in all religious duties. She still heard her Heavenly Voices, but she now no longer thought herself the appointed minister of Heaven to lead her countrj^men to certain victory. Our admiration for her courage and patriotism ought to be increased a hundred fold by her conduct throughout the latter part of her career, amid dangers, against which she no longer believed herself to be divinely secured. Indeed, she believed herself doomed to perish in a little more than a year ;t but she still fought on as resolutely, if not as exultingly as ever. * " Je voudrals Wen qu'il voulut me falre ramener aupres mes pere et mere, a garder leurs brebis et betail, et laire ce que Je voudrols falre." 1 " Des le commencement elle avait dit, 'II me laut employer: Je ne dm^erai qu un an, ou guere plus.' "— Michblet, v., p, 101. JOAN OF AEC'8 VIOTOBY AT ORLEANS. 193 As in the case of Arminius, the interest attached to individual heroism and virtue makes us trace the fate of Joan of Arc after she had saved her country. She served well with Charles's army in the capture of Laon, Soissons, Compiegne, Beauvais, and other strong places ; but in a premature attack on Paris, in September, 1429, the French were repulsed, and Joan was severely wounded. In the winter she was again in the field with some of the French troops; and in the following spring she threw herself into the fortress of Compiegne, which she had herself won for the French king in the preceding autumn, and which was now besieged by a strong Burgundian force. She was taken prisoner in a sally from. Compiegne, on the 24th of May, and was imprisoned by the Burgundians first at Arras, and then at a place called Crotoy, on the Flemish coast, until November, when, for payment of a large sum of money, she was given up to the English, and taken to Bouen, which then was their main stronghold in France. " Sorrow it were, and shame to tell, TJie toutchery tnat there toefell." And the revolting details of the cruelties practiced upon this young girl may be left to those whose duty, as avowed biogra- phers, it is to describe them. * She was tried before an ecclesi- astical tribunal on the charge of witchcraft, and on the 30th of iVIay, 1431, she was burned alive in the market-place at Bouen. I will add but one remark on the character of the truest heroine that the world has ever seen. If any person can be found in the present age who would join in the scoffs of Voltaire against the Maid of Orleans and the Heavenly Voices by which she believed herself inspired, let him read the life of the wisest and best man that the heathen nations produced. Let him read of the Heavenly Voice by which Socra- tes believed himself to be constantly attended ; which cautioned him on his way from the field of battle at Delium, and which from his boyhood to the time of his death, visited him with un- earthly warnings. t Let the modern reader reflect upon this; and then, unless he is prepared to term Socrates either fool or impostor, let him not dare to deride or vilify Joan of Arc. * The whole of the " Proces de Condemnation et de Rehahilitation de Jeanne D'Arc" has been published In five volumes, by the Societe de L liis- toire de B'rance. All the passages from contemporary chroniclers and poets are added ; and the most ample materials are thus given for acquiring full information on a subject which is, to an Englishman, one of painful interest, 'ihere is an admirable essay on Joan of Arc in the lasth number of the '•(Quarterly." T tsee Cicero, de Divinatlone, lib. i., sec, 41 ; and see the words of Socrates himself, in Plato, Apoi. &oo.; On fioi ^siov ri ual daijuoi^iov yiy- veraA. E/xol 6e rove kdriv en Ttaidii dozoc/j-svoVf ^Qoyr) iii yiyvoiiivriy n. r. X, D.B.— 7 194 DECISIVE BATTLES. Synopsis of Events between Joan of Aec's Yictoet at Orleans, a. D. 1-129, AND THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANltiH AkMADA, A.D. 1588. A.D. 1452. Final expulsion of the English from France. 1453. Constantinople taken, and the Eoman empire of the East destroyed by the Turkish Sultan Mohammed II. 1455. Commencement of the civil wars in England between the houses of York and Lancaster. 1479. Union of the Christian kingdoms of Spam under Ferdinand and Isabella, 1492. Capture of Grenada by Ferdinand and Isabella, and the end of the Moorish dominion in Spain. 1492. Columbus discovers the New World. 1494. Charles YIII. of France invades Italy. 1497. Expedition of Yasco di Gama to the East Indies round the Cape of Good Hope. 1503. Naples conquered from the French by the great Spanish general, Gonsalvo of Cordova. 1508. League of Cambray by the pope, the emperor, and the King of France against Yenice. 1509. Albuquerque establishes the empire of the Portuguese in the East Indies. 1516. Death of Ferdinand of Spain; he is succeeded by his grand- son Charles, afterwards the Emperor Charles Y. 1517. Dispute between Luther and Tetzel respecting the sale of indulgences, which leads to the Eeformation. 1519. Charles Yo is elected Emperor of Germany. 1520. Cortez conquers Mexico. 1525. Francis First of Spain defeated and taken prisoner by the imperial army atPavia. 1520. League of Smalcald formed by the Protestant princes of Germany. 1533. Henry "\nil. renounces the papal supremacy. 1533. Pizarro conquers Peru. 1556. Abdication of the Emperor Charles Y., Philip 11. becomes King of Spain, and Ferdinand I. Emperor of Germany. 1557. Elizabeth becomes Queen of England. 1557. The Spaniards defeat the French at the battle of St. Quen- tin. 1571. Don John of Austria, at the heatl of the Spanish fleet, aid- ed by Yenetian and the papal squadrons, defeats the Turks at Le- panto. 1572, Massacre of the Protestants in France on St, Bartholomew's day. 1579. The Netherlands revolt against Spain. 1580. Philip II. conquei*s Portugal. DEFEAT OF TEE SF ANISE ABM AD A. 195 CHAPTEB X. THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ABMADA A.D. 1588. fn tRat memorable year, when the dark cloud gathered round our coasts, len Europe stood by in tearful suspense to behold what should be the i~"Hult of that great cast In the game of human pontics, what the craft of Rome, the power of Philip, the genius of Farnese could achieve against the iBland-queen, with her Drakes and cecils— in that agony of the Protestant faith and English name.— hallam, Cotiiit. llid. vol. l., p. ii'^u. On the afternoon of the 19th of July, a.d. 1C8S, a group of Eng- lish captains was collected at the Bowling Green on the Hoe at Plymouth, whose equals have never before or since been brought together, even at that favorite mustering place of the heroes of the British navy. There was Sir Francis Drake the first English cir- cumnavigator of the globe, the terror of every Spanish coast in the Old World and the New; there was Sir John Hawkins, the rough veteran of many a daring voyage on the African and Amer- ican seas, and of many a desperate battle ; there was Sir Martin Frobisher, one of the earliest explorers of the Artie seas, in search. of that Northwest Passage which is still the darling object of Eng- land's boldest mariners. There was the high Admiral of England, Lord Howard of Effingham, prodigal of all things in his country's cause, and who had recently had the noble daring to refuse to dis- mantle part of the fleet, though the queen had sent him orders to do so, in consequence of an exaggerated report that the enemy had been driven back and shattered by a storm. Lord Howard (whom contemporary writers describe as being of a wise and noble courage, skilful in sea matters, wary and provident, and of great esteem among the sailors) resolved to risk his sovereign's anger, and to keep the ships afloat at his own charge, rather than that England should run the peril of losing their protection. Another of our Elizabethan sea-kings, Sir Walter Kaleigh, was at that time commissioned to raise and equip the land forces of Cornwall; but we may well believe that he must have availed him- self of the opportunity of consulting with the lord admiral and the other high officers, which was offered by the English fleet put- ting into Plymouth ; and we may look on Raleigh as one of the group that was assembled at the Bowling Green on the Hoe. Many other brave men and skilful mariners, besides the chiefs whose names have been mentioned, were there, enjoying with true sailor-like merriment, their temporary relaxation from duty. In the harbor lay the English fleet with which they had just re- turned from a cruise to Corunna in search of information respect- ing the real condition and movements of the hostile Armada. Lord Howard had ascertained that our enemies, though tempest- tossed, were btixl iormidably strong; and fearing that part of their 196 DECISIVE BATTLES. fleet might make for England in his absence, he had hurried back to the Devonshire coast. He resumed his station at Plymouth, and waited there for certain tidings of the Spaniard's approach. A match at bowls was being played, in which Drake and other high officers of the fleet were engaged, when a small armed ves- sel was seen running before the wind into Plymouth harbor with all sails set. Her commander landed in haste and eagerly sought the place where the English lord admirals and his captains were standing. His name was Fleming; he was the master of a Scotch privateer; and he told the English officers that he had that morn- ing seen the Spanish Armada off the Cornish coast. At this exciting information the captains began to hurry down to the water, and there was a shouting for the shijDs' boats ; but Drake cooly checked his comrades, and insisted the match should be played out. He said that there was plenty of time both to win the game and beat the Spaniards. The best and bravest match that ever was scored was resumed accordingly'. Drake and his friends aimed their last bowls with the same steady, calculating coolness with which they Avere about to point their guns. The winning cast was made ; and then they went on board and prepared for action with their hearts as light and their nerves as firm as they had been on the Hoe Bowling Green. Meanwhile the messengers and signals had been dispatched fast and far through England, to warn each town and village that the enemy had come at last. In eveiy sea-port there was instant mak- ing ready by land and by sea ; in every shire and every city there was instant mustering of horse and man. * But England's best defense tlien, as ever, was in her fleet; and after warping laboriously out of Plymouth harbor against the wind, the lord admiral stood westward under easy sail, keeping an anxious look-out for the Armada, the approach of which was soon announced by Cornish fish-boats and signals from the Cornish cliffs . The England of our own days is so strong, and the Spain of our own days is so feeble, that it is not easy, without some reflection and care, to comprehend the full extent of the peril which England then ran from the power and the ambition of Spain, or to appre- ciate the importance of that crisis in the history of the world. We had then no Indian or colonial empire, save the feeble germs of our North American settlements, which Ealeigh and Gilbeii; had recently planted. Scotland was a separate kingdom ; and Ireland was then even a greater source of weakness and a worse nest of rebellion than she has been in after times. Queen * In Macaulaj^'s Ballad on the Spanlsli Armada, tlie transmission of tlie tidlii;4>i of tlie -Aimada s approacli. and the arming of the English nation, ix.a iu.:gnincer!tl.v cttscribed. 'i lie progress of the lire-signals is depicted in hai.'.-> vshi^ti a.e wo.thy of comoarison with the renowiicd passage in V^'^ ^ga'n'^^^n'-^n \ hi-.i de,^cribes the tiansmission of the beacon-Uffht u^- hoaiicmg uiu i'ali of Troy from j^oont Ida to Argos. DEFEAT OF THE SPAKISIl ABMABA. 197 Elizabeth had found at her accession an encumbered revenue, a divided people, and an unsuccessful foreign war, in which the last remnant of our possessions in France had been lost; she had also a formidable pretender to her crown, whose interests were favored by all the Eoman Catholic powers ; and even some of her subjects were warped by religious bigotry to deny her title, and to look on her as a heretical usurper. It is true that during the years of her reign which had passed away before the attempted invasion of 1588, she had revived the commercial prosperity, the national spirit, and tne national loyalty of England. But her resources to cope with the colossal power of Philip II. still seemed most scanty ; and she had not a single foreign ally, except the Dutch, who were themselves struggling hard, and, as it seemed, hopelessly, to maintain their revolt against Spain. On the other hand, Philip II. was absolute master of an empire so superior to the other states of the world in extent, in resources, and especially in military and naval forces as to make the isroject of enlarging that empire into a universal monarchy seem a per- fectly feasible scheme ; and Philip had both the ambition to form that project, and the resolution to devote all his energies and all his means to its realization. Since the downfall of the Eoman. empire no such preponderating power had existed in the world. During the mediaeval centuries the chief European kingdoms were slowly moulding themselves out of the feudal chaos ; and though the wars with each other v/ere numerous and desperate, and several of their respective kings figured for a time as mighty conquerors, none of them in those times acquired the consistency and perfect organization which are requisite for a long-sustained career of aggrandizement. After the consolidation of the great kingdoms, they for some time kept each other in mutual check. During the first half of the sixteenth century, the balancing system was sue cessfully practiced by European statesmen. But when Philip II , reigned, France had become so miserably weak through her civil wars, that he had nothing to dread from the rival state which had so long curbed his father, the Emperor Charles V. In Germany, Italy, and Poland he had either zealous friends and dependents, or weak and divided enemies. Against the Turks he had gained great and glorious successes ; and he might look round the conti- nent of Europe without discerning a single antagonist of whom he could stand in awe. Spain, when he acceded to the throne, was at the zenith of her power. The hardihood and spirit which the Aragonese, the Castilians, and the other nations of the peninsula had acquired during centuries of free institutions and successful war against the Moors, had not yet become obliterated. Charles V. had, indeed, destroyed the liberties of Spain ; but that had been done too recently for its full evil to be felt in Philip's time. A people cannot be debased in a single generation ; and the Spaniards under Cliarles V. and Philip 11. proved the truth of the 198 DECISIVE BATTLES. remark, that nc nation is ever so formidable to its neighbors for a time, as a nation which, after being trained Tip in self-government, passes suddenly under a despotic ruler. The energy of domo- cratic institutions survives for a few gererations, and to it are nuperadded the decision and certainty which are the attributes of government when all its powers are directed by a single mind. It ^ true that this preternatural vigor is short-lived : national corrup- Vion and debasement gradually follow the loss of the national liberties ; but there is an interval before their workings are felt, and in that interval the most ambitious schemes of foreign con- quest are often siiccessfully undertaken. Philip had also the advantage of finding himself at the head of a large standing army in a perfect state of discipline and equipment, in an age when, except some few insignificant corps, standing armies were unknown in Christendom. The renown of the Spanish troops was justly high, and the infantry in particular was consid- ered the best in the world. His fleet, also, was far more numerous, and better appointed than that of any other European power ; and both his soldiers and hit> sailors had the confidence in themselves and their commanders which a long career of successful warfare alone can create . Besides the Spanish crown, Philip succeeded to the kingdom of Naples and Sicily, the duchy of Milan, Franche-Compte, and the Netherlands. In Africa he possessed Tunis, Oran, the Cape Verde, and the Canary Islands ; and in Asia, the Plnlippine and Sunda Islands, and a part of the Moluccas. Beyond the Atlantic he was lord of the most splendid portions of the New World, which Columbus found "for Castile and Leon." The empires of Peru and Mexico, Mew Spain, and Chili, with their abundant mines of the precious metals, Hispaniola and Cxiba, and many other of the American islands, were provinces of the sovereign of Spain. Philip had, indeed, experienced the mortification of seeing the inhabitants of the Netherlands revolt against his authority, nor could he succeed in bringing back beneath the Si:)anish scepter all the possessions which his father had bequeathed to him. JUit he had reconquered a large number of the towns and districts that originally took up arms against him. Belgium was brought more thoroughly into implicit obedience to Spain than she had been before her insurrection, and it was only Holland and the six other northern states that still held out against his arms. The contest had also formed a compact and veteran army on Philip's side, which, under his great general, the Prince of Parma,, had been trained to act together under all difficulties and all vicissi- tudes of warfare, and on whose steadiness and loyalty perfect re- liance might be placed throughout any enterprise, however diffi- cult and tedious. Alexander Farnese, prince of Parma, captain general of the Spanish armies, and governor of the Spanish posses- sions in the Netherlands, was beyond all comparison the greatest DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 199 military genius of his age. He was also highly distinguished for political wisdom and sagacity, and for his great administrative talents. He was idolized by his troops, whose affections he knew how to win without relaxing their discipline or diminishing his own authority. Pre-eminently cool and circumspect in his plans, but swift and energetic when the moment arrived for striking a decisive blow, neglecting no risk that caution could provide against, conciliating even the populations of the districts which he attacked by his scrupulous good faith, his moderation, and his address, Farnese was one the most formidable generals that ever could be placed at the head of an army designed not only to win battles, but to effect conquests. Happy it is for England and the world that this island was saved from becoming an arena for the exhibition of his powers. Whatever diminution the Spanish empire might have sustained in the Netherlands seemed to be more than compensated by the acquisition of Portugal, which Philip had completely conquer- ed in 1580. Not only that ancient kingdom itself, but all the fruits of the maritime enterprises of the Portuguese, had fallen into Philip's hands. All the Portuguese colonies in America, Africa, and the East Indies acknowledged the sovereignty of the King of Spain, who thus not only united the whole Iberian penin- sula under his single scepter, but had acquired a transmarine empire little inferior in wealth and extent to that which he had inherited at his accession. The splendid victory which his fleet, in conjunction with the papal and Venetian galleys, had gained at Lepanto over the Turks, had deservedly exalted the fame of the Spanish marine throughout Christendom; and when Philip had reigned thirty-five years, the vigor of his empire seemed unbroken, and the glory of the Spanish arms had increased, and was increas- ing throughout the world. One nation only had been his active, his persevering, and his successful foe. England had encouraged his revolted subjects in Flanders against him, and given them the aid in men and money, without which they must soon have been humbled in the dust. English ships had plundered his colonies; had defied his suprem- acy in the New World as well as the Old; they had inflicted ignominious defeats on his squadrons; they had captured his cities, and burned his arsenals on the very coast of Spain. The English had made Philip himself the object of personal insult. He was held up to ridicule in their stage-plays and masks, and these scoffs at the man had (as is not unusual in such cases) excited the anger of the absolute king even more vehemently than the m juries inflicted on his power.* Personal as well as politica- revenge urged him to attack England. Were she once subduedl the Dutch must submit ; France could not cope with him, the em, * See Kanke'a " Hist. Popes," vol, 11., p. 170. 200 DECISIVE BATTLES. pire ■vrould not oppose liim ; and universal dominion seemed sure to be the result of the conquest of tl at iiialii^nnnt island. There was yet another and a stronger feeling Avhich armed King Philip against England. He ^Yas one of the sineerest and one of the sternest higots of his age. Ho looked on himself, and was looked on by others, as the apx^*^iiited champion to extirpate heresy and re-establish the papal power throughout Eurojie. A power- ful reaction against Trotestantism liacl taken phice since the commencement of the second half of the sixteenth century, and he looked on himself as destined to complete it. The Keformed doctrines had been thoroughly rooted out from Italy and Spain. Belgium, which had previously been half Protestant, had been reconquered both in allegiance antl creed by Philip, and had be- come one of the most Catholic countries in the world. Half Germany had been won back to the old faith. In Savoy, in Switzerland, and many other countries, the progress of the coun- ter-Reformation had been rapid and decisive. The Catholic league seemed victorious in France. The papal court itself had shaken off the supineness of recent centuries, and, at the head of the Jesuits and the other new ecclesiastical orders, w!is dis- playing a vigor and a boldness worthy of the days of Hildebrand, or Innocent III. Throughout continental Europe, the Protestants, discomfitted and dismayed, looked to England as their protector and refuge. England was the acknowledged central point of Protestant power and policy ; and to conquer England was to stab Protestantism to the very heart. Sixtus V., the then reigning pope, earnestly ex- horted Philip to this enterprise. And when the tidings reached Italy and Spain that the Protestant Queen of England had put to death her Catholic prisoner, Mary Queen of Scots, the fury of the Vatican and Escurial knew no bounds. Elizabeth was denounced as the murderous heretic w^hose destriiction was an instant duty. A formal treaty was concluded(in Jiine 1587), by which the pope bound himself to contribute a million of scudi to the expenses of the war; the money to be ]iaid as soon as the king had actual j^ossession of an English port. Philip, on his part, strained the resources of his vast empire to the utmost. The French Catholic chiefs eagerly co-operated with him. In the sea-ports of the Mediterranean, and along almost the w^hole coast from Gibraltar to Jutland, the pre- parations for the great armani' nt were urged forward with all the earnestness of religious zeal as well as of angry ambition. "Thus," says the German historian of the popes,* "thus did the united powers of Italy and Spain, from which such mighty influences had gone forth over the whole world, now rouse themselves for an at- tack upon England ! The king had already compiled, from the archives of Simancas, a statement of the claims which he had to * Kanke, vol. 11., p. 172. DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ABM AD A. £01 the throne of that country on the extinction of the Stuart line ; the most brilliant prospects, especially that of a universal dornin- ion of the seas, were associated in his mind with this enterprise. Every thing seemed to conspire to such an end ; the predominancy of Catholicism in Germany, the renewed attack upon the Hugue- nots in France, the attempt upon Geneva, and the enterprise against England. At the same moment, a thoroughly Catholic prince, Sigismund III., ascended the throne of Poland, with the prospect also of future succession to the throne of Sweden. But whenever any principle or power, be it what it may, aims at un- limited supremacy in Europe, some vigorous resistance to it, hav- ing its origin in the deepest springs of human nature, invariably arises. Philip II. had to encounter newly, awakened powers, braced by the vigor of youth, and elevated by a sense of their future destiny. The intrepid corsairs, who had rendered every sea insecure, now clustered round the coasts of their native island. The Protestants in a body — even the Puritans, although they had been subjected to as severe oi)pressions as the Catholics — milled round their queen, who now gave admirable proof of her mascu- line courage, and her princely talent of winning the affections, and leading the minds, and preserving the allegiance of men." liunke should have added that the Enjilish Catholics at this crisis proved themselves as loyal to their queen and true to their country as were the most vehement anti-Catholic zealots in the island. Some few traitors there were ; but as a body, the English- men who held the ancient faith stood the trial of their patriotism nobly. Tlie lord admiral himself was a Catholic, and (to adopt the words of Hallam) "then it was that the Catholics in every county repaired to the standard of the lord lieutenant, imploring that they might not be su-spected of bartering the national inde- pendence for their religion itself." The Spaniard found no partisans in the country which he assailed, nor did England, self- wounded, " Lie at the proud foot of her enemy." For upward of a year the Spanish preparations had been active- ly and unremittingly urged forward. Negotiations were, during this time, carried on at Ostend, in which A^arious pretexts were as- signed by the Spanish commissioners for the gathering together of such huge masses of shipping, and such equipments of troops in all the sea-ports which their master ruled; but Philip himself took little care to disguise his intentions; nor could Elizabeth and her able ministers doubt but that this island was the real object of the Spanish armament. The peril that was wisely foreseen was reso- lutely provided for. Circular letters from the queen were sent round to the lord lieutenants of the several counties, requiring them "to call together the best sort of gentlemen under their leu- tenancy, and to declare unto them these great preparations and 202 DECISIVE BATTLES. arrogant tlireatenings , now -burst forth in action npon the seas, wherein exery man's particular state, in the highest degree, could be touched in respect of country, liberty, wives, children, lands, lives, and (which was specially to be regarded) the profession of the true and sincere religion of Christ. And to lay before them the infinite and unspeakable miseries that would fall out upon any such change, which miseries were evidently seen by the fruits of that hard and cruel government holden in countries not far dis- tant. We do look," said the queen, "that the most part of them should have, upon this instant extraordinary occasion, a largerpro- portion of furniture, both for horsemen and footmen, but especially horsemen, than hath been certified, thereby to be in their best strength against any attempt, or to be employed about our own per- son, or otherwise. Hereunto as we doiibt not but by your good endeavors they will be the rather conformable so also we assure ourselves that Almighty God will so bless these their loyal hearts born towards us, their loving sovereign, and their natural country, that all the attempts of any enemy whatsoever shall be made void and frustrate, to their confusion, your comfort, and to God's high glory."* Letters of a similar kind were also sent by the council to each of the nobility, and to the great cities. The primate called on the clergy for their contributions; and by every class of the community the appeal was responded to with liberal zeal, that offered more even than the queen reqiiired. The boasting threats of the Spaniards had roused the spirit of the nation, and the whole people "were thoroughly irritated to stir up the whole forces for their defense against such prognosticated conquests; so that in a very short time, all her whole realm, and every corner, were furnished with armed men, on horseback and on foot; and those continually trained, exercised, and put into bands, in warlike manner, as in no age ever was before in this realm. There was no sparing of money to provide horse, armor, weapons, powder, and all necessaries; no, nor want of provision of pioneers, carriages, and victuals, in every county of the realm, without exception, to attend upon the armies. And to this general furniture every man voluntarily offered, very many their services personally without wages, others money for armor and weapons, and towage soldiers; a matter strange, and never the like heard of in this realm or elsewhere. And this general reason moved all men to large contributions, that when a conquest was to be withstood wherein all should be lost, it was no time to spare a portion. "f Our lion-hearted queen showed herself worthy of such a people. A camp was formed at Tilbury; and there Elizabeth rode through * Strype, cited In Southey's " Naval History.'' t Copy ol contemporary letter in tlie Harleian Collection, quoted by Soutliey. DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ABMADA. 203 the ranks, encouraging her captains and her soldiers by her pres- ence and her words. One of the speeches which she addressed to them during this crisis has been preserved; and though olten quoted, it must not be omitted here. "My loving people," she said, "we have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety to take heed how we commit our- selves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and lovini^ people. Let tyrants fear ! I have always so behaved myself, that under God,f I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my subjects; and, therefore,! am come among you, as you see, at tliis time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die among you all, to lay down for my God, for my kingdom, and for my people, my honor and my blood even in tiie dust. I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a King cf England too, and think it foul scorn that Parma, or Spain, or any prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realm, to which rather than any dishonor shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know already' , for your forwardness, you have deserved rewards and crowns; and we do assure you, on the word of a prince they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time, my lieutenant gen- eral shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject, not doubting but by your obedi- ence to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valor in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom and of my people." Some of Elizabeth's advisers recommended that the whole care and resources of the government should be devoted to the equip- ment of tlie armies, and that the enemy, when he attempted to land, should be welcomed with a battle on the shore. But the wiser counsels of Ealeigh and others prevailed, who urged the im- portance of fitting out a fleet that should encounter the Spaniards at sea, and, if possible, prevent them from approaching the land at all. In Baleigh's great work on the "History of the World," he takes occasion, when discussing some of the events of the first Punic war, to give his reasonings on the proper policy of England when menaced with invasion. Without doubt, we have there the substance of the advice which he gave to Elizabeth's council ; and the remarks of such a man on such a subject have a general and enduring interest, beyond the immediate crisis which called them forth. Kaleigh says :* " Surely I hold that the best way is to keep our enemies from treading upon our ground ; wherein if we fail, then must we seek to make him v^ish that he had stayed at his own tmmtf-^— «i . -— ■ — i'i I ' - « * " Historie of tlie WorlO," p. 799-801. 204 DECISIVE J5^ TTLES. home. In such a case, if it should happen, onr judgments are to weigh many particular ciroumstnnees, that belongs not unto this discourse. ]>ut making the question general, the positive, Wheiher England, iciihout the help (f Iwr fleet, he ah. e to debar an enemy from landhuj, I hold that it is unable so to do, and therefore I think it most dangerous to make the adventxire; for the encouragement of a first victory to an enemy, and the discouragement of being beaten to the invaded, may draw after it a most perilous conse- quence. " Great difference I know there is, and a diverse consideration to bo had, between such a country as France is, strengthened with many fortified places, and this of ours, where our ramparts are but the bodies of men. lUit I say that an army to be transported over sea, and to be landed again in an enemy's country, and the place left to the choice of the invader, cannot be resisted on the coast of England withoiit a fleet to impeach it; no, nor on the coast of France, or any other country, except every creek, port, or sandy bay had a powerful army in each of them to make opposi- tion. For let the supposition be granted that Kent is able to fur- nish twelve thousand foot, and that those twelve thousand be layed in the three best landing-places within that country, to wit, three thoiTsand at ]\largat, three thousand at the Nesse, and six thousand at Foulkstor.e, tliat is, somewhat equally distant from them both, as also that two of these troops (unless some other order be thought more tit) be directed to strengthen the third, when they shall see the enemy's fleet to head toward it: I say, that notwithstanding this provision, if the enemy, setting sail from the Isle of "Wight, in the first watch of the night, and towing their long boats at their sterns, shall arrive by dawn of day at the Nesse, and thrust their army on shore there, it will be hard for those three thousand that are at ^largat (twenty-and-four long miles from thence) to come time enoiigh to re-enforce their fellows at the Nesse. Nay, how shall they at Foulkstone be able to do it, who are nearer by more than half the way *? seeing that the enemy, at his first arrival, will either make his entrance by force, with three or four shot of great artillery, and quickly put the first three thousand that are in- trenched at the Nesse to run, or else give them so much to do that they shall be glad to send for help to Foulkstone, and perhaps to Margat, whereby those places will be left bare. Now lot us sup- pose that all the twelve thousand Kentish soldiers arrive at the Nesse ere the enemy can be ready to disembarque his army, so that he will find it unsafe to land in the face of so many prepared to withstand him, yet must we believe that he will play the best to his own game (having liberty to go which way he list), jmd under covert of the night, set sail toward the east, where what shall hinder him to take ground either at Margat, the Downes, or elsewhere, before they at the Nesse can be well aware of his de- parture ':• Certainly there is nothing more easy than to do it. Yea, DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH AHMAD A, 206 the like may be said of Weymouth, Purbeck, Poole, and of all landing-places on the southwest ; for there is no man ignorant that ships, without putting themselves out of breath, will easily outrun the soldiers that coast them. ^ Les armees ne volent poird en posie ,-' ' Annies neither fly e nor run post, ' saith a marshal of Fran ce. And I know it to be true, that a fleet of ships may be seen at sunset, and after it at the Lizard, yet by the next morning thoy may recover Portland, whereas an army of foot shall not be able to march it in six dayes. Again, when those troops lodged on the sea-shores shall be forced to run from rdace to place in vain, after a fle-t of ships, they will at length sit down in the midway, and leave all at a Iventure. But say it were otherwise, that the invading enemy will offer to land in some such placo where there shall be an army f)f ours r;ady to receive him ; yet it cannot ])0 doubted but that when t!ie choice of all our trained bands, and the choice of our commanders and captains, shall be drawn together (as they were at Tillmry in the year 15b8) to attend the person of the jirince, and for the defense of the city of London, they that remain to guard the coast can be of no such force as to encounter an army like unto that wherewith it was intended that the Prince of Parma should have landed in England. "For end of this digression, I hope that this question shall never come to trial : his majesty's many movable forts will forbid the experience. And although the English will no less disdain, than any nation under heaven can do, to be beaten upon their own ground, or elsewhere, by a foreign enemy, yet to entertain those that shall assail us, with their own beef in their bellies and before they eat of our Kentish capons, I take it to be the wisest way ; to do which his majosty, after God, will employ his good ships on the sea, and not trust in any intrenchment upon the shore." The introduction of steam as a propelling power at sea has added ten-fold weight to these arguments of lialeigh. On the other hand, a well-constructed system of rail-ways, especially of coast-lines, aided Vjy the operation of the electric telegraph, would give facili- ties for concentrating a defensive army to oppose an enemy on landing, and for moving troops from place to place in observation of the movements of the hostile fleet, such as would have aston- ished Sir Walter, even more than the sight of vessels passing rapidly to and fro without the aid of wind or tide. The observation of the French marshal, whom he quotes, is now no longer correct. Armies can be made to pass from place to place almost with the speed of wings, and far more rapidly than any post-travelling that was known in the Elizabethan or any other age. Still, the pres- ence of a suflScient armed force at the right spot, at the right time, can never be made a matter of certainty ; and even after the changes that have taken place, no one can doubt but that the pol- icy of Raleigh is that which England should ever seek to follow in defensive war. At the time of the Armada, that policy certainly 206 DECrSIVE BATTLES. Baved the conntry, if not from conquest, at least from deplorable calamities. If indeed the enemy had landed, we maybe sure that he wonld have been heroieally opposed. But history shows us so many examples of the superiority of veteran troops over new levies, however niimerous and brave, that, without disparaging our countrymen's soldierly merits, Ave may well be thankful that no trial of them was then made on English land. Especially must we feel this when we contrast the high Lvilitary genius of the Prince of Parma, who would have headed the Spaniards, with the imbecility of the Earl of Liecester, to whom thf> deplorable spirit of favoritism, which formed the great blemish on Elizabeth's char- acter, had then committed the chia^' '>Dmmimd of the English armies. The ships of the royal navy at thX Vime amounted to no more than thirty-six ; but the most se? •'iceable merchant vessels were collected from all the ports of tUe coxintry ; and the citizens of London, Bristol, and the othe^- great seats of commerce showed as liberal a zeal in eqiiipping and manning vessels, as the nobility and gentry displayed in mustering forces by land. The seafaring population of fie'coast, of every rank and station, was animated by the same 7 -ady spirit ; and the whole number of seamen who came forward to man the English Heet was 17,472. The number of the ships that were collected was 101 ; and the total amount of then* tonnage, 31,985. There was one ship in the fleet (the Tri- wnph) of 1160 tons, one of 1000, one of 900, two of 800 each, three of GOO, live of 500, five of -400, six of 300, six of 250, twenty of 200, and the residue of inferior burden. Application was made to the Dutch for assistance ; and, as Stowe expresses it, "The Hollanders came roundly in, with threescore sail, brave ships of war, tierce and full of spleen, not so much for England's aid, as in just occa- sion for tbeirown defense : these men foreseeing the greatness of ihe danger that might ensue if the Spaniards should chance to win the day and get the mastery over them; andindueregar(^ whereof,, their manly courage was inferior to none." "We have'move minute information of the number and equipment of the hostile forces than we have of our own. In the first volume of Hakluyt's "Voyages," dedicated to Lord Elfingham, who com- manded against the Armada, there is given (from the contemporary foreign writer, Meteran) a more complete and detailed catalogxie thanhas perhaps ever appeared of a similar^'mament. "A very large and particular description ot thisnavie was put in print and published by the Spaniards, wherein was set downe the number, names, and burthens of the shippes, the number of mar- iners and soldiers throughout the whole tieete ; likewise the quan- titie of their ordinance, of their armor, of bullets, of match, of gun-poulder, of victuals, and of all their navall furniture was in the saide description particularized. Unto all these were added the names of the govornours, captaines, noblemen, and gentlemen DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA, 207 voluntaries, of whom there was so great a multitude, that scarce was there any family of accompt.or any one principall man through- out all Spaine, that had not a brother, sonne, px kinsman in that fleete ; who all of them were in good hope to purchase unto them- selves in that navie (as they termed it) invincible, endless glory and renown, and to possess themselves of great seigniories and riches in England and in the Low Countrcys. But because the said description was translated and published out of Spanish into divers other languages, we will here only make an abridgement or brief rehearsal thereof. "Portugall furnished and set foorth under the conduct of the Duke of Medina Sidonia, generall of the fleete, 10 galeons, 2 zabraes 1300 mariners, 3,300 soldiers, 300 great pieces, with all requisite furniture, " Biscay, under the conduct of John Martines de Eicalde, admi- ral of the whole fleete, set forth 10 galeons, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 2000 soldiers, 250 great pieces, &c. "Guipusco, under the conduct of Michael de Oquendo, 10 gal- eons, 4 pataches, 700 mariners, 2,000 souldiers, 310 great pieces. "Italy, with the Levant islands, under Martine de Vertendona, 10 galeons, 700 mariners, 2,000 souldiers, 310 great pieces, &c. "Castile, under Diego Flores de Valdez, 14 galeons, 2 pataches, 1700 mariners, 2,400 souldiers, and 380 great pieces, &c. "Andalusia, under the conduct of Petro de Valdez, 10 galeons,! patache, 800 mariners, 2,400 souldiers, 280 great pieces, &c. "Item, under the conduct of John Lopez de Medina, 23 great Flemish hulkes, with 700 mariners, 3,200 souldiers, and 400 great pieces. " Item, under Hugo de Moncada, 4 galliasses, containing 1200 gally-slaves, 460 mariners, 870 souldiers, 200 great pieces, &c. "Item, under Diego de Mandrana, 4 gallies of Portugall, with 888 gally-slaves, 3G0 mariners, 20 great pieces, and other requisite furniture. "Item, under Anthonie de Mendoza, 22 pataches and zabraes, with 574 mariners, 488 souldiers, and 193 great pieces. " Besides the ships aforementioned, there were 20 caravels, rowed with oars, being appointed to perform necessary services under the greater ships, insomuch as all the ships appertayning to this navie amounted unto the summe of 150, eche one being sufficiently provided of furniture and victuals. " The number of mariners in the saide fleete were above 8,000, of slaves 2,088 of souldiers 20,000 (besides noblemen and gentlemen voluntaries), of great cast pieces 2, GOO. The foresaid ships were of an huge and incredible capacitieand receipt, for the whole fleete was large enough to containe the burthen of 60,000 tunnes. " The galeons were 64 in number, being of an huge bignesse, and very flately built, being of marveilons force also, and so high that th»y resembled great castles, most fit to defend themselves and to 208 DECISIVE BATTLES. ■withstand any assault, but in giving any other ships the encounter farr inferiour unto the English and Dutch ships, which can with great dexteritie wield and turne themselves at all assayes. The upper worke of the said galeons was of thicknesse and strength suf- ficient to beare off musket-shot. The lower worke and the timbers thereof were out of measure strong, being framed of planks and ribs foure or five foote in thicknesse, insomuch that no bullets coiild pierce them but such as were discharged hard at hand, wjiich afterward prooved true, for great number of bullets Avere founde to sticke fast within the massie substance of those thicke plankes. Great and well-pitched cables were twined about the masts of their shippes, to strengthen them against the battery of shot. •* The galliasses were of such bignesse that they contained within them chambers, chapels, turrets, pulpits and other commodities of great houses. The galliasses were rowed with great oares, there being in eche one of them 300 slaves for the same purpose, and were able to do great service with the force of their ordinance. All these, together with the residue aforenamed, were furnished and beauti- fied with trumpets, streamers, banners, warlike ensignes, and other such like ornaments. " Their pieces of brazen ordinance were 1600, and of yron a 1000. "The bullets thereto belonging were 120,000. "Item of gun-poulder, 5,600 quintals. Of matche, 1200 quin- tals. Of muskets and kaleivers, 7,000. Of haleberts and partizans, 10,000. "Moreover, they had great stores of canons, double-canons, culverings and field-pieces for land services. "Likewise they were provided of all instruments necessary on land to conveigh and transport their furniture from place to place, as namely of carts, wheeles, wagons, &c. Also they had spades, mattocks, and baskets to set piouers on worke. They had in like sort great store of mules and horses, and whatsoever else was requisite for a land armie. They were so well stored of biscuit, that for the space of halfe a yeere they might allow eche person in the whole fleete halfe a quintall every moneth, whereof the whole summe amounteth unto an hundreth thousand quintals. "Likewise of wine they had 147,000 pipes, sufficient also for halfe a yeere's expedition. Of bacon, 6,500 quintals. Of cheese, 3,000 quintals. Besides fish, rise, beanes, pease, oile, vinegar, &c. Moreover, they had 12,000 pipes of fresh water, and all other necessary provision as namely, candles, lanternes, lampes, sailes, hempe, oxe-hides, and lead, to stop holes that should be made with the battery of gunshot. To be short, they brought all things ex- pedient, either for a fieete by sea, or for an armie by land. "This navie (as Diego Pimei:telli afterward confessed) was es- teemed by the king himselfe to containe 32,000 persons, and to cost him every day 30,000 ducates. DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 209 "There were in the said navie five terzaes of Spaniards (which terzaes the Frenchmen call regiments), under the command of five governours, termed by the Spaniards masters of the field, and among the rest there were many olde and expert souldiers chosen out of the garisons of Sicilie, Naples, and Tergera. Their captaines or colonels were Diego Pimentelli, Don Francisco de Toledo, Don Alongo de Lugon, Don Nicolas de Isla, Don Augus- tin de Mexia, who had eche of them thirty-two companies under their conduct. Besides the which companies, there were many bands also of Castilians and Portugals, every one of which had their peculiar governours, captains, officers, colors, and weapons." While this huge armament was making ready in the southern ports of the Spanish dominions, the Duke of Parma, with almost incredible toil and skill, collected a squadron of war-ships at Dun- kirk, and a large flotilla of other ships and of flat-bottomed boats for the transport to England of the picked troops, which were designed to be the main instruments in subduing England. The design of the Spaniards was that the Armada should give them, at least for a time, the command of the sea, and that it should join the squadron that Parma had collected off Calais. Then, escorted by an overpowering naval force, Parma and his army were to em- bark in their flotilla, and cross the sea to England, where they were to be landed, together with the troops which the Armada brought from the ports of Spain. The scheme was not dissimilar to one formed against England a little more than two centuries afterward. As Napoleon, in 1805, waited with his army and flotilla at Boulogne, looking for Villeneuve to drive away the English cruisers, and secure him a passage across the Channel, so Parma, in 1588, waited for Medina Sidonia to drive away the Dutch and English squadrons that watched his flotilla, and to enable his veterans to cross the sea to the land that they were to conquer. Thanks to Providence, in each case England's enemy waited in vain ! Although the numbers of sail which the queen's government and the patriotic zeal of volunteers had collected for the defense of England exceeded the number of sail in the Spanish fleet, the English ships were, collectively, far inferior in size to their adver- saries, their aggregate tonnage being less by half than that of the enemy. In the number of guns and weight of metal, the dispro- portion was still greater. The English admiral was also obliged to subdivide his force ; and Lord Henry Seymour, with forty of the best Dutch and English ships, was employed in blockading the hostile ports in Flanders, and in preventing the Duke of Parma from coming out of Dunkirk. The Invincible Aemada, as the Spaniards in the pride of their hearts named it, set sail from the Tagus on the 29th of May, but near Corunna met with, a tempest that drove it into port with Mvere loss. It was the report of the damage done to the enemy 210 DECISITE BATTLES. by this storm wliicli liacl caused the English court to suppose that there -wouhl be no invasion that year. But, as already mentioned, the English admiral had sailed to Corunna, and learned the real state of the case, whence he had returned with his ships to Plymouth, The Armada sailed again from Corunna on the 12th of July. The orders of King Philip to the Duke de Medina Sidonia •were, that he should, on entering the Channel, keep near the French coast, and, if attacked by the English ships, avoid an action and steer on to Calais Roads, where the Prince of Parma's squadron, ■was to join him. The hopes of surprising and destroying the English Heet in Plymouth led the Spanish admiral to deviate from these orders and to stand across to the English shore ; but, on finding that Lord Howard was coming out to meet him, he resumed the original plan, and determined to bend his way steadily toward Calais and Dunkirk, and to keep merely on the defensive against such squadrons of the English as might come up with him. It was on Saturday, the 20th of July, that Lord Effingham came in sight of his formidable adversaries. The Armada was drawn up in the form of a crescent, which, from horn to horn, measured some seven miles. There was a southwest wind, and before it the vast vessels sailed slowly on. The English let them pass by ; and then following in the rear, commenced an attack on them. A running fight now took place, in which some of the best ships of the Spaniards were captured ; many more received heavy damage ; while the English vessels, which took care not to close with their huge antagonists, but availed themselves of their superior celerity in tacking and maneuvering, suffered little comparative loss. Each day added not only to the spirit, but to the number of Effingham's force. Ealeigh, Oxford, Cumberland, and Sheffield joined him ; and *'the gentlemen of England hired ships from all parts at their own charge, and with one accord came flocking thither as to a set field, where glory was to be attained, and faithful service performed unto their prince and their country." Ealeigh justly praises the English admiral for his skilful tactics. Ealeigh says,* "Certainly, he that will happily perform a fight at sea must be skilful in making choice of vessels to fight in : he must believe that there is more belonging to a good man of war, upon the waters, than great daring ; and must know, that there is a great deal of difference between fighting loose or at large and grappling. The guns of a slow ship pierce as well, and make as great lioles, as those in a swift. To clap ships together, without consideration, belongs rather to a madman than to a man of war; for by such an ignorant bravery was Peter Strossie lost at the Azores, when he fought against the ]Marquis of Santa Cruza. In like sort had the Lord Charles Howard, admiral of England, been lost in the year 1588, if he had not been better advised than a great many * " Hl^»rle of tiie World," p. 791. DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. 211 malignant fools were that found fault with his demeanor. The Spaniards had an army aboard them, and he had none ; they had more ships than he had , and of higher building and charging ; so that, had he entangled himself with those great and powerful vessels, he had greatly endangered this kingdom of England ; for twenty men upon the defenses are equal to a hundred that board and enter ; whereas then, contrariwise, the Spaniards had a hun- dred, for twenty of ours, to defend themselves withal. But our admiral knew his advantage, and held it ; which had he not done, he had not been worthy to have held his head." ' The Spanish admiral also showed great judgment and firmness in following the line of conduct that had been traced out for him ; and on the 27th of July, he brought his fleet unbroken, though sorely distressed, to anchor in Calais Eoads. But the King of Spain had calculated ill the number and the activity of the English and Dutch fleets ; as the old historian expresses it, "It seemeth that the Duke of Parma and the Spaniards grounded upon a vain and presum]ptuous expectation, that all the ships of England and of the Low Countreys would at the first sight of the Spanish and Dunkerk navie have betaken themselves to flight, yielding them sea-room, and endeavoring only to defend themselves, their havens, and sea-coasts from invasion. Wherefore their intent and purpose was, that the Duke of Parma, in his small and flat-bottomed ships, should, as it were under the shadow and wings of the Spanish fleet, convey ouer all his troupes, armor, and war-like provisions, and with their forces so united, should invade England : or while the English fleet were busied in fight against the Spanish, should enter upon any part of the coast, which he thought to be most convenient. Which invasion (as the captives afterward confessed) the Duke of Parma thought first to have attempted by the River of Thames ; upon the banks whereof having at the first arrivall landed twenty or thirty thousand of his principall souldiers,he sup- posed that he might easily have woonne the citie of London ; both because his small shippes should have followed and assisted his land forces, and also for that the citie it-selfe was but meanely fortified and easie to ouercome, by reason of the citizens' delicacie and discontinuance from the warres, who, with contmuall and constant labor, might be vanquished, if they yielded not at the first assault."* But the English and Dutch found ships and mariners enough to keep the Armada itself in check, and at the same time to block up Parma's flotilla. The greater part of Seymour's squadron left its cruising-ground ofl" Dunkirk to join the English admiral off Calais ; but the Dutch manned about five-and-thirty sail of good ships, with a strong force of soldiers on board, all well seasoned to the sea-service, and with these they blockaded the Flemish ports • Hakluyt's " Voyages,'' vol. I., p. 60i. 212 DECISnrE BATTLES. that were in Pnrma's power. Still it was resolved by the Spanish admiral and tlie prince to endeavor to eftecta junction, which the English seamen M-ere equally resolute to prevent ; and bolder measures on our side now became necessary. The Armada lay off Calais, with its largest ships ranged outside, " like strong castles fearing no assault, the lesser placed in the middle war^." The English admiral could not attack them in their position without great disadvantage, but on the night of the 29th he sent eight lire-ships among them, with almost equal effect to that of the tire-ships Avhicli the Greeks so often employed against the Turkish tleets in their late war of independence. The Span- iards cut their cables and put to sea in confusion. One of the largest galeasses ran foul of another vessel and was stranded. The rest of the tieet was scattered about on the Flemish coast, and when the morning broke, it was with dithculty and delay that they obeyed their admiral's signal to range themselves round him near Gravelines. Now was the golden opportunity for the English to assail them, and prevent them from ever letting loose Parma's flotilla against England, and nobly was that opportimity used. Drake and Fenner were the first English captains who attacked the unwieldy leviathans ; then came Fenton, Southwell, Burton, Cross, Eaynor, and then the lord admiral, with Lord Thomas Howarti and Lord Sheffield, The Spaniards only thought of form- ing and keeping close together, and were driven by the English past Dunkirk, and far away from the Prince of Parma, who, in watching their defeat from the coast, must, as Drake expressed it, have chafed like a bear robbed of her whelps. This was indeed the last and the decisive battle between the two fleets. It is, per- haps, best described in the very words of the contemporary writer, as we may read them in Hakluy t. * "Upon the iOth of Jiily in the morning, the Spanish fleet after the forsayd tumult, having arranged themselues againe into order, were, within sight of Greveling, most bravely and furiously en- countered by the English, where they once again got the wind of the Spaniards, who suffered themseues to be dejirivedof the com- modity of the place in Caleis lload, and of the advantage of the wind neer nnto Dunkerk, rather than they would change their ar- n\y or separate their forces now conjoyned and united together, standing only upon their defense. ** And albeit there were many excellent and warlike ships in the English fleet, yet scarce were there 22 or 23 among them all, which miltchecl 90 of the Spanish ships in the bigness, or could conveniently assault them. Wherefore the English shippes nsing their prerogative of nimble steerage, whereby they could turn and weild themselves with the wind which way they listed, came often times very near upon the Spaniards, and charged them so Vol t-, p. 602. DEFEAT OF THE SPAMSII ARMADA. 2l» sore, that now and then they were but a pike's length asunder ; and so continually giving them one broad side after another, they discharged all their shot, both great and small, upon them, spend- ing one whole day, from morning till night, in that violent kind of conflict, untill such time as powder and bullets failed them. In regard of which want they thought it convenient not to pursue the Spaniards any longer, because they had many great vantages of the English, namely, for the extraordinary bigness of their shippes, and also for that they were so neerely conjoyned, and kept together in so good array, that they could by no meanes be fought withall one to one. The English thought, therefore, that they had right well acquitted themselves in chasing the Span • iards first from Caleis, and then from Dnnkerk, and by that meanes to have hindered them from joyning with the Duke of Parma his forces, and getting the wind of them, to have driven them from their own coasts. "The Spaniards that day sustained great loss and damage, hav- ing many of their shippes shot thorow and thorow, and they dis- charged likewise great store of ordinance against the English ; who, indeed, sustained some hinderance, but not comparable to the Spaniard's loss ; for they lost not any one ship or person of account; for very diligent inquisition being made, the Englishmen all that time wherein the Spanish navy saj'led upon their seas, are not found to haue wanted aboue one hundred of their people ; albeit Sir Francis Drake's ship was pierced with shot aboue forty times, and his very cabben was twice shot thorow, and about the conclusion of the fight, the bed of a certaine gentleman lying weary thereupon, was taken quite from under him with the force of a bullet. Likewise, as the Earle of Northumberland and Sir Charles Blunt were at dinner upon a time, the bullet of a demy- culvering brake thorow the middest of their cabben, touched their feet, and strooke downe two of the standers-by, with many such accidents befalling the English shippes, which it were tedious to rehearse." It reflects little credit on the English government that the En- glish fleet was so deficiently supplied with ammunition as to be unable to complete the destruction of the invaders. But enough was d :ne to insure it. Many of the largest Spanish ships were sunk or captured in the action of this day. And at length the Spanish admiral, despairing of success, fled northward with a southerly wind, in the hope of rounding Scotland, and so return- ing to Spain without a farther encounter with the English fleet. Lord Effingham left a squadron to continue the blockade of the Prince of Parma's armament; but that wise general soon withdrew his troops to more promising fields of action. Meanwhile the lord admiral himself, and Drake, chased the vincible Armada, as it was now termed, for some distance northward; and then, when they seemed to bend away from th« Scotch coast toward Norway, it wa« 214 DECISIVE BATTLES. thoiiglit best, in the wonls of Drake, ''to leave tliem to tliose bois- teroiis and nneonth Northern seas." The suli'erings and losses wliieh the nnhappy Spaniards sustain- ed in their tlight roiind iS.'otlaud and Ireland are wtdl kno\Yn. Of their whole Ann ida only tifty-tliree shattered vessels brought back their beat^^n and wasted crews to the Spanish coast which they had quitted in such pageantry and pride. Some passages from the writings of those who took part in the struggle have been already quoted, and the most spirited descrip- tion of the defeat of the Armada which ever was penned may perhaps be taken from the letter which our brave Vice-admiral Drake wrote in answer to some mendacious stories by which the Spaniards strove to hide their shame. Thus does he describe the scenes in which he played so important a part.* •'They were not ashamed to publish, in sundry langu:iges in print, great victories in words, which they pretended to have ob- tained against this realm, and spread the same in a most false sort over all parts of France, Italy, and elsewhere; when, shortly after- ward, it was happily manifested in very deed to all nations, how their navy, which they termed invincible, consisting of one hundred and forty sail of ships, not only of their own kingdom, biit strengthened with the greatest argosies, Portugal carracks, Floren- tines, and large hulks of other countries, were by thirty of her majesty's own ships of war, and a few of our own merchants, by the wise, valiant, and advantageous conduct of the Lord Charles Howard, high admiral of England, beaten and shutiied together even from the Lizard in Cornwall, lirst to Portland, when they shamefully left Don Pedro de Valdez with his mighty ship; from Portland to Calais, where they lost Hugh de Moucado, with the galleys of which he was captain; and from Calais, driven with squibs from their anchors, were chased out of the sight of England, round about Scotland and Ireland; where, for the sympathy of their religion, hoping to tind succor and assistance, a great part of them were crushed against the rocks, and tliose others that land- ed, being very many in number, were, notwithstanding, broken, skin, and taken, and so sent from village to village, coupled in halters to be shipped into England, where her majesty, of her princely and invincible disposition, disdaining to put them to death, and scorning either to retain or to entertain them, they were all sent back again to their countries, to witness and recount the worthy achievement of their invincible and dreadful navy. Of which the number of soldiers, the fearful burden of their ships, the commanders' names of every squadron, with all others, their magazines of provision, were put in print, as an army and navy irresistible and disdaining prevention; with all which their great * See Staype, and tiie noce? *<> the Lilo o£ Drake, in tUe ♦' Blographia Brttannlrta *' Synopsis of events, etc. 216 nnd terrible ostentation, they did not in all their sailing round about England so much as sink or take one ship, barque, pinnace, or cock-boat of ours, or even bum so much as one sheep-cote on this land." Synopsis of Events between the Defeat of the Spanish Assiada, A.D. 1588, AND THE Battle OF Blenheim, a.d. 1704. A.D. 1594. Henry IV. of France conforms to the Roman Catho- lic Church and ends the civil wars that had long desolated France. 1598. Philip II. of Spain dies leaving a ruined navy and an ex- hausted kingdom. 1G03. Death of Queen Elizabeth. The Scotch dynasty of the Stuarts succeeds the throne of England. 1619. Commencement of the Thirty Years' War in Germany. 1624-1G42. Cardinal liicheliou is minister of France. He breaks the power of nobility, reduces the Huguenots to complete subjec- tion, and by aiding the Protestant German princes in the latter part of the Thirty Years' War, he humiliates France's ancient rival, Austria. 1630. Gustavus Adolphus,King of Sweden, marches into Germany to the assistance of the Protestants, who were nearly crushed by the Austrian armies. He gains several groat victories, and afterhis death, Sweden, under his statesmen and generals, continues to take a leading part in the war. 1640. Portugal throws off the Spanish yoke; and the house of Bra- ganza begins to reign. 1642. Commencement of the civil war in England between Charles I. and his Parliament. 1648. The Thirty Years' War in Germany ended by the treaty of Westphalia. 1653. Oliver Cromwell Lord Protector of England. 1660. Restoration of the Stuarts to the English throne. 1661. Louis XIV. takes the administration of affairs in France into his own hands. 1667-1668. Louis XIV. makes war upon Spain, and conquers a large part of the Spanish Netherlands. 1672. Louis makes war upon Holland, and almost overpowers it. Charles II., of England, is his pensioner, and England helps the French in their attacks ujjon Holland until 1674. Heroic resistance of the Dutch under the Prince of Orange. 1674. Louis conquers Franche-Comte. 1679. Peace of Nimeguen. 1081. Louis invades and occupies Alsace. 1682. Accession of i*eter the Great to the throne of Russia, 216 DECimvn BATTLES. 1685. Louis commences a merciless persecution of his Protes- tant subjects. 1688. The glorious Kevolution in England. Expulsion of James n. William of Orange is made King of England. James takes refuge at the French court, and Louis undertakes to restore him. General war in the west of Europe. 1697. Treaty of Kyswick. Charles XII. becomes King of Swe- den. 1700. Charles IL, of Spain, dies, having bequeathed his domin- ions to Philip of Anjou, Louis XIV. 's grandson. Defeat of the Kus- sians at Narva by Charles XIL 1701. Willam III. forms a "Grand Alliance" of Austria, the Em- pire, the United Provinces, England, and other powers, against France. 1702. King "William dies; but his successor, Queen Anne, adheres to the Grand Alliance, and war is proclaimed against France. CHAPTEB XI. THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM, A.D. 1704. The decisive blow struck at Blenlieim resounded through every part oJ Europe : It at once destroyed the vast lahrlc of power which It had taken Louis XIV., aided hy the talents of Turenne and the genius of "Vauhan, so long to construct.— Alison. Though more slowly moulded and less imposingly vast than the empire of Napoleon, the power which Louis XIY. had acquired and was acquiring at the commencement of the eighteenth century was almost equally menacing to the general liberties of Europe. If tested by the amount of permanent aggrandizement which each procured for France, the ambition of the royal Bourbon was more successful than were the enterprises of the imperial Corsican. All the provinces that Bonaparte conquered were rent again from France within twenty years from the date when the very earliest of them was acquired. France is not stronger by a single city or a single acre for all the devastating wars of the Consulate and the Empire, But she still possesses Franche-Comte, Alsace, and part of Flanders. She has still the extended boundaries which Louis XIV. gave her ; and the royal Spanish marriage a few years ago proved clearly how enduring has been the political influence which the arts and arms of France's "Grand Monarque " obtained for her Bouthward of the Pyrenees. When Louis XIV. took the reins of government into his own hands, after the death of Cardinal Mazarin, there was a union of ability with opportunity such as France had not seen since the BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 217 days of Charlemagne. Moreover, Louis's career was no brief one. For upward of forty years, for a period nearly equal to the dura- tion of Charlemagne's reign, Louis steadily followed an aggressive and a generally successful policy. He passed a long youth and manhood of triumph before the military genius of Marlborough made him acquainted with humiliation and defeat. The great Bourbon lived too long. He should not have outstayed our two English kings, one his dependent, James II., the other his antag- onist, William III. Had he died when they died, his reign would be cited as unequalled in the French annals for its prosperity. But he lived on to see his armies beaten, his cities captured, and his kingdom wasted year after year by disastrous war. It is as if Charlemagne had survived to be defeated by the Northmen, and to witness the misery and shame that actually fell to the lot of his descendants. Still, Louis XIY. had forty years of success ; and froni the per- manence of their fruits, we may judge what the results w6uld have been if the last fifteen years of his reign had been equally fortu- nate. Had it not been for Blenheim, all Europe might at this day suffer under the effect of French conquests resembling those of Alexander in extent, and those of the Romans in durability. When Louis XIV. began to govern, he found all the materials for a strong government ready to his hand. Eichelieu had com- pletely tamed the turbulent spirit of the French nobility, and had subverted the "imperium in imperio" of the Huguenots. The faction of the Frondeurs in Mazarin's time had had the effect of making the Parisian Parliament utterly hateful and contemptible in the ey^s of the nation. The Assemblies of the States-General were obsolete. The royal authority alone remained. The king was the state. Louis knew his position. He fearlessly avowed it, and he fearlessly acted up to it. * Not only was his government a strong one, but the country which he governed was strong — strong in its geographical situation, in the compactness of its territory, in the number and martial spirit of its inhabitants, and in their complete and undivided nationality. Louis had neither a Hungary nor an Ireland in his dominions. The civil war in the Cevennes was caused solely by his own persecuting intolerance ; and that did not occur till lata in his reign, when old age made his bigotry more gloomy, and had given fanaticism the mastery over prudence. Like Napoleon in after times, Louis XIV. saw clearly that the great wants of France were " ships, colonies, and commerce." But Louis did more than see these wants ; by the aid of his great min- ister, Colbert, he supplied them. One of the surest proofs of the * " Quand Louis XIV. dit, ' L'Etat, c'est mol . ' 11 n'y eut dans cette parole nl enflure, ni vantere, mais la simple enonciation d'ur Iait."~MiCHELET Eis-- tetre Modwnet vol. U., p. 106, Sl8 DECISIVE BATTLES. genius of Louis -was his skill in finding out genius in others, and his promptness in calling it into action. Under him, Louvois organized, Turenne, Conde, Villars, and Berwick led the armies of France, and Vauban fortified her frontiers. Throughout his reign, French diplomacy was marked by skilfulness and activity, and also by comprehensive far-sightedness, such as the represen- tatives of no other nation possessed. Guizot's testimony to the vigor that was displayed through every brancli of Louis XIV. 's government, and to the extent to which France at present is in- debted to him, is remarkable. He says that, " taking the public services of every kind, the finances, the departments of roads and public works, the military administration, and all the establish- ments which iDelong to every branch of administration, there is not one that will not be found to have had its origin, its development, or its greatest perfection under the reign of Louis XIV."* And he points out to us that "the government of Louis XIV. was the first that presented itself to the eyes of Europe as a power acting upon sure grounds, which had not to dispute its existence with inward enemies, but was at ease as to its territory and its people, and solely occupied with the task of administering government prop- erly so called. All the European governments had been previously thrown into incessant wars, which deprived them of all security as well as of all leisure, or so pestered by internal parties or antag- onists that their time was passed in fighting for existence. The government of Louis XIV. was the first to appear as a busy, thriv- ing administration of afiairs, as a power at once definitive and pro- gressive, which was not afraid to innovate, because it could reckon securely on the future. There have been, in fact, very few govern- ments equally innovating. Compare it with a government of the same nature, the unmixed monarchy of Philip II. in Spain ; it was more absolute than that of Louis XIV., and yet it was less regular and tranquil. How did Philip II. succeed in establishing absolute power in Spain ? By stifling all activity in the country, opposing himself to every species of amelioration, and rendering the state of Spain completely stagnant. The government of Louis XIV., on the contrary, exhibited alacrity for all sorts of innova- tions, and showed itself favorable to the progress of letters, arts, wealth — in short, of civilization. This was the veritable cause of its preponderance in Europe, which arose to such a pitch, that it became the type of a government not only to sovereigns, but also to nations, during the seventeenth century." While France was thus strong and united in herself, and ruled by a martial, an ambitious, and (with all his faults) an enlightened and high-spirited sovereign, what European power was there fit to cope with her or keep her in check ? *' As to Germany, the ambitious projects of the German branch * •* Hlstary of European Clvllizatioii," Leetur© 13, :BATTLE of BLENHEIM. 21^ of Austria had been entirely defeated, tlie peace of the empire had been restored, and almost a new constitution formed, or an old revived, by the treaties of Westphalia ; nay, the imperial eagle was not only fallen, hut her wings were clipped.''"* As to Spain, the Spanish branch of the Austrian house had sunk equally low. Philip II. left his successors a ruined monarchy. He left them something worse ; he left them his example and his principles of government, founded in ambition, in pride, in igno- rance, in bigotry, and all the pedantry of state, f It is not, therefore, to be wondered at. that France, in the first war of Louis XIV., despised the opposition of both branches of the once predominant house of Austria. Indeed, in Germany, the French king acquired allies among the princes of the empire against the emperor himself. He had a still stronger support in Austria's misgovernment of her own subjects. The words of Bolingbroke on this are remarkable, and some of them sound as if written within the last three years. Bolingbroke says, "It was not merely the want of cordial co-operation amorg the princes of the empire that disabled the emperor from acting with viLor in the caurse of his family then, nor that has rendered the house of Austria a dead weight upon all her allies ever since. Bigotry, and its inseparable companion, cruelty, as well as the tyranny and avarice of the court of Vienna, created in those days, and has maintained in ours, almost a perpetual diversion of the imperial arms from all effectual opposition to France. / mean to speak of the troubles in Hungary. Whatever they became in their progress, they were caused originally by -the usurpations and persecutions of the emperor; and when the Hun- garians were called rebels first, they were called so for no other reason than this, that they would not be slaves. • The dominion of the emperor being less supportable than that of the Turks, this unhappy people opened a door to the latter to infest the empire, instead of making their country what it had been before, a barrier against the Ottoman power. France became a sure though secret ally of the Turks as well as the Hungarians, and has found her account in it by keeping the emperor in perpetual alarms on that side, while she has ravaged the empire and the Low Countries on the other.":}: If, after having seen the imbecility of Germany and Spain * Bolingbroke, vol. ii., p. 3T8. Lord Bolingbroke's ' Letters on the Use of History,'' and his " iSketch of the History and state of Europe," abound with remarks on Louis XIV. and his contemporaries, of which the substance is as sound as tlie style is beautiful, infi-rtunately, like all his other works, they contain also a large proportion of sophistry and misrepresenta- tion. The best test to use before we adopt any opinion or assertion of Bohngbroke's, Is to consider whetlier in writing it he was thinking either of Mr Robert Walpole or of Kevealed Kellglon. When either of these objects of his hatred was before his mind, he scrupled at no artifice or exaggeration that might serve the purpose of lus mahgnity. On most other occasions he may be followed with advantage, as he always may be read with pleasure. t Boiingftroke, vol. 11,. p. 378. $ Bolingbroke, voL il., p. 39T, 220 DECISIVE BATTLES. against the France of Lonis XIV., -we turn to the two only remain- ing European powers of any importance at that time, to England and to Holland, we find the position of our own country as to European politics, from 1660 to 1688, most painful to contemplate ; nor is our external history during the last twelve years of the eighteenth century by any means satisfactory to national pride, though it is infinitely less shameful than that of the preceding twenty-eight years. From 1660 to 1668, "England, by the return of the Stuarts, was reduced to a nullity." The words are Michel- et's, * and, though severe, they are just. They are, in fact, not severe enough ; for when England, under her restored dynasty of fithe Stuarts, did not take any part in European politics, her con- duct, or rather her king's conduct, was almost invariably wicked and dishonorable. Bolingbroke rightly says that, previous to the revolution of 1688, during the whole progress that Louis XIV. made toward ac- quiring such exhorbitant power as gave him well-grounded hopes of acquiring at last to his family the Spanish monarchy,England had been either an idle spectator of what passed on the Continent, or a faint and uncertain ally against France, or a warm and sure ally on her side, or a partial mediator between her and the powers con- federated together in their common defense. But though the court of England submitted to abet the usurpations of France, and the King of England stooped to be her pensioner, the crime was not national. On the contrary, the nation cried out loudly against it even while it was committing, f Holland alone, of all the European powers, opposed from the very beginning a steady and uniform resistance to the ambition and power of the French king. , It was against Holland that the fiercest attacks of France were made, and, though often apparently on the eve of complete success, they were always ultimately baffled by the stubborn bravery of the Dutch, and the heroism of their great leader, William of Orange. "When he became King of England, the power of this country was thrown decidedly into the scale against France ; but though the contest was thus rendered less unequal, though William acted throughout "with invincible firmness, like a patriot andahero,"| France had the general supe- riority in every war and in every treaty ; and the commencemens of the eighteenth century found the last league against her dissolv- ed, all the forces of the confederates against her dispersed, and many disbanded ; while France continued armed, with her veteran forces by sea and land increased, and held in readiness to act. on all sides, whenever the opportunity should arise for seizing on the great prizes which, from the very beginning of his reign, had never been lost sight of by her king. * " Hiartoire Modeme," yoI. ii-, p. 106. t Bolinglaroke, vol. it, 4U t Ibid,,?. 404, BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 221 This is not tlie p4ace for any narrative of the first essay wliich Louis XIV. made of his power in the war of 1667 ; of his rapid conquest of Flanders and Franche-Comte ; of the treaty of Aixla Chapelle, which "was nothing more than a composition between the bully and the bullied "* of his attack on Holland in 1672 ; of the districts and the barrier towis of the Spanish Netherlands, which were secured to him by the treaty of Nimeguen in 1678 ; of how, after this treaty, he "continued to vex both Spain and the empire, and to extend his conquests in the Low Countries and on the Ehine, both by the pen and the sword ; how he took Luxem- bourg by force, stole Strasburg, and bought Casal ; " of how the league of Augsburg was formed against him in 1686, and the elec- tion of William of Orange to the English throne in 1688 gave a new spirit to the opposition which France encountered ; of the long and checkered war that followed, in which the French armies were generally victorious on the Continent, though his fleet were beaten at La Hogue, and his dependent, James II,, was defeated at the Boyne ; or of the treaty of Ryswick, which left France in possession of Koussillon, Artois, and Strasburg, which gave Europe no security against her claims on the Spanish succession, and which Louis regarded as a mere truce, to gain breathing-time be- fore a more decisive struggle. It must be borne in mind that the ambition of Louis in these wars was two-fold. It had its immediate and its ulterior objects. Its immediate object was to conquer and annex to France the neighboring provinces and towns that were most convenient for the increase of her strength, but the ulterior object of Louis, from the time of his marriage to the Spanish In- fanta in 1659, was to acquire for the house of Bourbon the whole empire of Spain. A formal renunciation of all right to the Spanish succession had been made a,t the time of the marriage; but such renunciations were never of any practical effect, and many casu- ists and jurists of the age even held them to be intrinsically void. As the time passed on, and the prospect of Charles II. of Spain dying without lineal heirs became more and more certain, so did the claims of the house of Bourbon to the Spanish crown after his death become matters of urgent interest to French ambition on the one hand, and to the other powers of Europe on the other. At length the unhappy King of Spain died. By his will he appointed Philip, duke of Anjou, one of Louis XIV. 's grandsons, to succeed him on the throne of Spain, and strictly forbade any partition of his dominions. Louis well knew that a general European war would follow if he accepted for his house the crown thus bequeath- ed. But he had been preparing for this crisis throughout his reign. He sent his grandson into Spain as King Philip V. of that country, addressing to him, on his departure, the memorable words, " There are no longer any Pyrenees." * Ibid., p. 890. 222 DECISIVE BATTLES, The empire, which now received the grandson of Louis as its king, comprised besides Spain itself, the strongest part of the Netherlands, Sardinia, Sicily, Naples, the principality of Milan, and other possessions in Italy, the Philippines and Manilla Islands in Asia, and in the JS'ew A\ orld besides California and Florida, the greatest part of Central and of Southern America. Philip was well received in Madrid, where he was crowned as King Philip V. in the beginning of 1 701. The" distant portions of his empire sent m their adhesion; and the house of Bourbon, either by its French or Spanish troops, now had occupation both of the kingdom of Francis I., and of the fairest and amplest portions of the empira of the great rival of Francis, Charles V. Loud was the wrath of Austria, whose princes were the rival claimants of the Bourbons for the empire of Spain.. The indigna- tion of our "William III., though not equally loud, was far more deep and energetic. By his exertions, a league against the house of Boiirbon was formed between I^ngland, Holland, and the Austrian emperor, which was subsequently joined by the kings of Portu- gal and Prussia, by the Duke of Sa\oy, and by Denmark. Indeed, the alarm throughout Europe was now general and urgent. It was evident that Louis aimed at consolidating France and the Spanish dominions into one preponderating empire. At the mo- ment when Philip was departing to take possession of Spain, Louis had issued letters-patent in his favor to the eflect of preserving his rights to the throne of France. And Louis had himself obtained possession of the important frontier of the Spanish Netherlands with its numerous fortified cities, which were given up to his troops under pretense of securing them for the young King of Spain. Whether the formal union of the two crowns was likely to take place speedily or not, it was evident that the resources of the whole Spanish monarchy were now virtually at the French king's disposal. The peril that seemed to menace the empire, England, Holland, and the other independent powers is well summed up by Alison. "Spain had threatened the liberties of Europe in the end of the sixteenth century. France had all but overthrown them in the close of the seventeenth. What hope was there of ther^ being able to make head against them both, united under such a monarch as Louis XIV. ? "* Our knowledge of the decayed state into which the Spanish power had fallen ought not make us regard their alarms as chi- merical. Spain possessed enormous resources, and her strength was capable of being regenerated by a vigorous ruler. We should remember what Alberoni effected even after the close of the war of Succession. By what that minister did in a few years, we may judge what Louis XIV. would have done in restoring the mari- • •' Military History ol Ibe Duke ol Marlborcra^" p. S3. BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 223 time and military power of that great country, which nature had so largely gifted, and which man's misgovemment has so de- based. The death of King William, on the 8th of March, 1702, at first seemed likely to paralyze the league against France; "for, not- withstanding the ill success with which he made war generally, he was looked upon as the sole center of union that could keep together the great confederacy then forming ; and how much the French feared from his life had appeared a few years before, in the extravagant and indecent joy they expressed on a false report of his death. A short time showed how vain the fears of some, and the hope of others were."* Queen Anne, within three days after her accession, went down to the House of Lords, and there declared her resolution to support the measures planned by her predeces- sor, who had been "the great support, not only of these kingdoms, but of all Europe." Anne was married to Prince George of Den- mark, and by her accession to the English throne the confederacy against Louis obtained the aid of the troops of Denmark ; but Anne's strong attachment to one of her female friends led to far more important advantages to the anti-Gallican confederacy than the acquisition of many armies, for it gave them MABLBdROUQH as their captain general. There are few successful commanders on whom France has shone 80 unwillingly as upon John Churchill, duke of Marlborough, prince of the Holy Roman Empire, victor of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet, captor of Liege, Bonn, Limburg, Lan- dau, Ghent, Bruges, Antwerp, Oudenarde, Ostend, Menin, Den-^ dermonde, Ath, Lille, Tournay, Mons, Dounay, Aire, Bethune, and Bouchain ; who never fought a battle that he did not win, and never besieged a place that he did not take. Marlborough's own character is the cause of this. Military glory may, and too often does, dazzle both contemporaries and posterity, until the crimes as well as the vices of heroes are forgotten. But even a few stains of per- sonal meanness will dim a soldier's reputation irreparably ; and Marlborough's faults were of a peculiarly base and mean order. Our feelings toward historical personages are in this respect like our feelings toward private acquaintances. There are actions of that shabby nature, that however much they may be outweighed by a man's good deeds on a general estimate of his character, we never can feel any cordial liking for the person who has once been guilty of them. Thus, with respect to the Duke of Marlborough, it goes against our feelings to admire the man who owed his first advancement in life to the court favor which he and his family acquired through his sister becoming one of the mistresses of the Duke of York. It is repulsive to know that Marlborough laid the foundation of his wealth by being the paid lover of one of the fair ♦ Bolmgbroke, vol. li., 445. 224 DECISIVE BATTLES. and frail favorites of Charles II. * His treachery, and his ingrati- tude to his patron and benefactor, James 11., stand out in dark relief, even in that age of thankless perfidy. He was almost equally disloyal to his new master, King William ; and a more un-Eng- lish act cannot be recorded than Godolphin's and Marlborough's betrayal to the French court in 1694: of the expedition then designed against Brest, a piece of treachery which caused some hundreds of English soldiers and sailors to be helplessly slaughtered on the beach in Cameret Bay. It is, however, only in his military career that we have now to consider him; and there are very few generals, of either ancient or modern times, whose campaigns will bear a comparison with those of Marlborough, either for the masterly skill with which they Were planned, or for the bold yet prudent energy with which each plan was carried into execution. Marlborough had served while young under Turenne, and had obtained the marked praise of this great tactician. It would be difficult, indeed, to name a single quality which a general ought to have, and with which Marlborough was not eminently gifted. "What principally attracted the notice of contemporaries was the imperturbable evenness of his spirit. Voltaire* says of him. "He had, to a degree above all other generals of his time, that calm courage in the midst of tumult, that serenity of soul in dan- ger, which the English call a cool head [que les Anglais appellent cold head, tetefroide], and it was, perhaps, this quality, the greatest gift of nature for command, which formerly gave the English so many advantages over the French in the plains of Cressy, Poic- tiers, and Agincourt." King William's knowledge of Marlborough's high abilities, though he knew his faithlessness equally well, is said to have caused that sovereign in his last illness to recommend Marlborough to his successor as the fittest person to command her armies ; but Marl- borough's favor with the new queen, by means of his wife, was so high, that he was certain of obtaining the highest employment ; and the war against Louis opened to him a glorious theater for the display of those military talents, which he had previously only had an opportunity of exercising in a subordinate character, and on far less conspicuous scenes. He was not only made captain general of the English forces at home and abroad, but such was the authority of England in the council of the Grand Alliance, and Marlborough was so skilled in winning golden opinions from all whom he met with, that on his reaching the Hague, he was received with transports of joy by the * Marlt)orougli might plead tlie example of SyUa in tMs. Compare the anecdote in Plutarch ahout Sylla when young and Nicopolis, Hoiv?/i i^isv, evTtopov 8e yvvaiKoi, and the anecdote about Marlborough and the Duchess of Cleveland, told by Lord Chesterfield, and cited in Macaulay's " History," vol. i., p. 461. t " biecle de Louis Quatorze." BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 226 Dutch, and it was agreed by the heads of that republic, and the minister of the emperor, that Marlborough should have the chief command of all the allied armies. It must, indeed, in justice to Marlborough, be borne in mind, that mere military skill was by no means all that was required of him in his arduous and invidious station. Had it not been for his unrivalled patience and sweetness of temper, and his marvelous ability in discerning the character of those whom he had to act with, his intuitive perception of those who were to be thoroughly trusted, and of those who were to be amused with the mere sem- blance of respect and confidenae ; had not Marlborough possessed and employed, while at the head of the allied armies, all the qual- ifications of a polished courtier and a great statesman, he never would have led the allied armies to the Danube. The confederacy would not have held together for a single year. His greatest political adversary, Bolingbroke, does him ample justice here. Bolingroke, after referring to the loss which King "William's death seemed to inflict on the cause of the allies, observes that, " By his death, the Duke of Marlborough was raised to the head of the army, and, indeed, of the confederacy; where he, a new, a private man, a subject, acquired by merit and by management a more deciding influence than high birth, confirmed authorit§^, and even the crown of Great Britain had given to King William. Not only all the parts of that vast machine, the Grand Alliance, were kept more compact and entire, but a more rapid and vigorous motion was given to the whole ; and, instead of languishing and disastrous campaigns, we saw every scene of the war full of action. All those wherein he appeared, and many of those wherein he was not then an actor, but abettor, however, of their action, were crowned with the most triumphant success. "I take with pleasure this opportunity of doing justice to that great man, whose faults I knew, whose virtues I admired ; and whose memory, as the greatest general and the greatest minister that our country, or perhaps any other, has produced, I honor."* War was formally declared by the allies against France on the •4th of May, 1702. The principal seenes of its operation were, at first, Flanders, the Upper Ehine, and North Italy. Marl- borough headed the allied troops in Flanders during the first two years of the war, and took some towns from the enemy, but noth- . ing decisis? e occurred. Nor did any actions of importance take place during this period between the rival armies in Italy. But in the center of that line from north to south, from the mouth of the Scheldt to the mouth of the Po, along which the war was car- ried on, the generals of Louis XIV. acquired advantages in 1703 which, threatened one chief member of the Grand Alliance with utter destruction. France had obtained the important assistance * Bolingbroke, vol. 11., p. 445. D.B.— 8 $26 DECISIVE BAT1LE8, of Bavaria as her confederate in the war. The elector of this pow- erful German state made himself master of the strong fortress of Ulm, and opened a communication with the French armies on tha Upper Rhine. By this junction, the troops of Louis were enabled to assail the emperor in the very heart of Germany. lu the autumn of the year 1703, the combined armies of the elector and French king completely defeated the Imperialists in Eavaiia : and in the following winter they made themselves masters of the important cities of Augsburg and Passau, Meanwhile the French army of the Upper Khine and Moselle had beaten the allied armies opposed to them, and taken Treves with Landau. At the same time, the discontents in Hungary with Austria again broke out into open insurrection, so as to distract the attention and complete the terror of the emperor and his council at Vienna. Louis XIV. ordered the next campaign to be commenced by his troops on a scale of grandeur and with a boldness of enterprise such as even Napoleon's military schemes have seldom equalled. On the extreme left of the line of war, in the Netherlands, the French armies were to act only on the defensive. The fortresses in the hands of the French thers were so many and so strong, that no serious impression seemed likely to be made by the allies on the French frontier in that quarter during one campaign, and that one campaign was to give France such triumphs elsewhere as would (it was hoped) determine the war. Large detachments were there- fore to be made from the French force in Flanders, and they were to be led by Marshal Villeroy to the Moselle and Upper Rhine. The French army already in the neighborhood of those rivers was to march under Marshal Tallard through the Black Forest and join the Elector of Bavaria, and the French troojDS that were already with the elector under Marshal Marsin. Meanwhile the French army of Italy was to advance through the Tyrol into Austria, and the whole forces were to combine between the Danube and the Inn. A strong body of troops was to be dispatched into Hungary, to assist and organize theinsurgentsin that kingdom; and the French grand army of the Danube was then in collected and irresistible might to march upon Vienna, and dictate terms of peace to the emperor. High military genius was shown in the formation of this plan, but it was met and baffled by a genius higher still. , Marlborough had watched, with tlie deepest anxiety, the progress of the French arms on the Rhine and in Bavaria, and he saw the futility of carrying on a war of posts and sieges in Flanders, while death-blows to the emj)ire were being dealt on the Danube. He resolved, therefore, to let the war in Flanders languish for a year, while he moved with all the disposable forces that he could collect to the central scenes of decisive operations. Such a march was in itself difficult; but Marlborough had. in the first instance, to overcome the still greater difficulty of obtainini.cthe cousenrana cheerful co-operation of the allies, espftciiilW of the Dutt;h- ivhosQ BATTLE Oi BLENHEIM, 227 frontier it was proposed thus to deprive of the larger part of the force which had hitherto been its protection: Fortunately, among the many slothful, the many foolish, the many timid, and the not few treacherous rulers, statesmen, and generals of different nations with whom he had to deal, there were two men, eminent both in ability and integrity, who entered fully into MarllDorough's projects, and who, from the stations which they occupied, were enabled materially to forward them. One of these was the Dutch statesman Heinsius, who had been the cordial supporter of King William, Rnd who now, with equal zeal and good faith, supported Marl- borough in the councils of the allies; the other was the celebrated general, Prince Eugene, whom the Austrian cabinet had recalled from the Italian frontier to take the command of one of the emperor's armies in Germany. To these two great men, and a few more, Marl- borough communicated his plan freely and unreservedly; but to the general councils of his allies he only disclosed part of his dar- ing scheme. He proposed to the Dutch that he should march from Flanders to the Upper Ehine and Moselle with the British troops and part of the foreign auxiliaries, and commence vigorous opera- tions against the French armies in that quarter, while General Auverquerque, with the Dutch and the remainder of the auxiliaries, maintained a defensive war in the Netherlands. Having with diffi- culty obtained the consent of the Dutch to this portion of his pro- ject, he exercised the same diplomatic zeal, with the same success, in urging the King of Prussia and other princes of the empire, to increase the number of the troops which they supplied, and to post them in places convenient for his own intended movements. Marlborough commenced his celebrated march on the 19th of May. The army which he was to lead had been assembled by his brother, General Churchill, at Bedburg, not far from Maestricht, ontheMeuse: it included sixteen thousand English troops, and consisted of fifty-one battalions of foot, and ninety-two squadrons of horse. Marlborough was to collect and join with him on his march the troops of Prussia, Luneburg, and Hesse, quartered on the Khine, and eleven Dutch battalions that were stationed at Both- weil.* He had only marched a single day, when the series of inter- ruptions, complaints, and requisitions from the other leaders of the allies began, to which he seemed subjected throughout his enterprise^ and which would have caused its failure in the hands of any one not gifted with the firmness and the exquisite temper of Marl- borough. One specimen of these annoyances and of Marlborough's mode of dealing with them may suffice. On his encamping at Kupen on the 20th, he recieved an express from Auverquerque pressing him to halt, because Villeroy, who commanded the French army in Flanders, had quitted the lines which he had been occupying, and crossed the Meuse at Namur with thirty-six battal- * Coxe's " Liie o£ MarllDorougli." 228 DECISIVE BATTLES. ions and forty*five squadrons, and was threatening the town of Huys, At the same time Marlborough received letters from tho Margrave of Baden and Count Wratislaw, who commanded the Im-. perialist forces at Stollhoflen, near the left bank of the Khine, stating that Tallard had made a movement as if intending to crosa the Khine, and urging him to hasten his march towards the lines of Stollhoffen. Marlborough was not diverted by these applica. tions from the prosecution of his grand design. Conscious tha^ the army of Villeroy would be too much reduced to nndertaka offensive operations, by the detachments which had already been made toward the Khine, and those which must follow his own march, he halted only a day to quiet the alarms of Auverquerque. To satisfy also the margrave, he ordered the troops of Hompesch and Bulow to draw toward Philipsburg, though with private injunc- tions not to proceed beyond a certain distance. He even exacted a promise to the same effect from Count Wratislaw, who at the junc- ture arrived at the camp to attend him during the whole campaign.* Marlborough reached the lihine at Coblentz, where he crossed that river, and then marched along its left bank to Broubach and Mentz. His march, though rapid, was admirably conducted, so as to save the troops from all unnecessary fatigue; ample supplies of provi- sions were ready, and the most perfect discipline was maintained. By degrees Marlborough obtained more re-enforcements from the Dutch and the other confederates, and he also was left more at liberty by them to follow his own course. Indeed before even a blow was struck, his enterprise had paralyzed the enemy , and had material- ly released Austria from the pressure of the war. Villeroy, with his detachments from the French Flemish army, was completely bewildered by Marlboro'ugh's movements; and, unable to divine where it was that the English general meant to strike his blow, wasted away the early part of the summer between Flanders and the Moselle without effecting any thing, f Marshal Tallard who commanded forty-five thousand French at Strasburg, and who had been destined by Louis to march early in the year into Bavaria, thought that Marlborough's march along the Ehine was preliminary to an attack upon Alsace; and the Mar- shal therefore kept his forty -five thousand men back in order to Erotect France in that quarter. Marlborough skilfully encouraged is apprehensions, by causing a bridge toAConstructed across the Bhine at Philipsburg, and by making the JLandgrave of Hesse ad- vance his artillery at Manheim, as if for a siege at Landau. Mean- while the Elector of Bavaria and Marshal Marsin, suspecting that Marlborough's design might be what it really proved to be, forebode * Coxe. t '• INiarslial Villeroy," says Voltaire, "who had wished to follow Marl- tiorough en his flr£t marches, suddenly lost sight of him altogetl^er, and only learned where he really was on hearing of his victory at Donawert." Hieciti de Louis XI V. BATTLE OF BLElsHEIM. 229 to press Tipon the Austrians opposed to them, or to send troops inte Hungary; and they kept back so as to secure their communications with France. Thus, when Marlborough, at the beginning of June, left the Rhine and marched for the Danube, the numerous hostile armies were uncombined, and unable to check him. "With such skill and science had this enterprise been concerted, •that at the Very moment when it assumed a specific direction, the enemy was no longer enabled to render it abortive. As the march was now to be bent toward the Danube, notice was given for the Prussians, Palatines, and Hessians, who were stationed on the Ehine, to order their march so as to join the main body in its prog- ress. At the same time, directions were sent to accelerate the advance of the Danish auxiliaries, who were marching from the Netherlands."* Crossing the River Neckar, Marlborough marched in a southeast- ern direction to Mundelshene, where he had his first personal interview with Prince Eugene, who was destined to be his colleague on so many glorious fields. Thence, through a difficult and dan- gerous country, Marlborough continued his march against the Ba- varians, whom he encountered on the 2d of July on the heights of the Schullenberg, near Donauwert. Marlborough stormed their intrenched camp, crossed the Danube, took several strong places in Bavaria, and made himself completely master of the elector's dominions, except the fortified cities of Munich and Augsburg. But the elector's army, though defeated at Donauwert, was still numerous and strong: and at last Marshal Tallard, when thorough- ly apprised of the real nature of Marlborough's movements, crossed the Rhine; and being suffered, through the supineness of the Ger- man General at Stollhoffen, to march without loss through the Black Forest, he united his powerful army at Biberbach, near Augs- burg, with that of the elector and the French troops under Marshal Marsin, who had previously been co-operating with the Bavarians^ On the other hand, Marlborough recrossed the Danube, and on the 11th of August united his army with the Imperialist forces under Prince Eugene. The combined armies occupied a position near Hochstadt, a little higher up the left bank of the Danube than Donauwert, the scene of Marlborough's recent victory, and almost exactly on the ground where Marshal Villars and the elector had defeated an Austrian army in the preceding year. The French marshals and the elector were now in position a little farther to the east, between Blenheim and Lutzingen, and with the little stream of the Nebel between them and the troops of Marlborough and Eugene. The Gallo-Bavarian army con- sisted of about sixty thousand men, and they had sixty-one pieces of artillery. The army of the allies was about fifty-six thousand strong with fifty-two guns. - _ __ 111^ * Coxe. S30 DECrSIVE BATTLES. Although the French nrniy of Italy had been r.nt\ble to pene. tnito into Austria, and iiltho\igh the mustorly strategy of Marl- borough had hitherto warded otf the destinaetion with which the Ciiuse of the allies seemed menaced at the beginning of the cam- paign, the peril was still most serious. It was absolutely neces- sary for Marlborough to attack the enemy before Villeroy should be roxised into action. There was nothing to stop that general and his army from marching into Franconia, whence the allies drew their jnincipal supplies; and besides thus distressing them, be might, by marching on and joining his army to those of Tal- lard and the elector, form a mass which would overwhelm the force under ^larlborough and Eugene. On tlie other hand, the chances of a battle seemed perilous, and the fatal consequences of a defeat Mere certain. The disadvantage of the allies in point of number was not very great, but still it was not to be disregarded; and the advantage which the enemy seemed to have in the cimi- position of their troops was striking. Tallard and Marsin had torty-tive thousand Frenchmen uniier them, all veterans and all trained to act together; the elector's own troops also were good soldiers. ^larlborough, like "Weilington at ^Vaterloo, headed an army, of which the larger proportion consisted not of English, but ot men of many dil^erent nations and many dilierent lang\aages. He was also obliged to be the assailant in the action, and thus to expose his troops to comjiaratively heavy loss at the commence- ment of the battle, while the enemy would light under the protec- tion of the villages and lines which they were -actively engaged in strengthening. The consecpiences of a defeat of the confederated army nnist have broken up the Grand Alliance, and realized the proudest hopes of the Fronch king Mr. Alison, in his admirable military history of the Puke of Marlborough, has truly stated the effects which would have taken phu'c if France had been suc- cessful in the war; and when the position of the confederates at the time when Blenheim was fought is remembered — when we recollect the exhaustion of Aiistria, the menacing insurrection of Hungary, the feuds and jealousies of the German princes, the strength and activity of the eTacobite party in England, and the imbecility of nearly all the Dutch statesmen of the time, and the W'eakness of Holland if deprived of her allies, we may adopt his words in speculating on what would have ensued if France had been victorious in the battle, and "if a power, animated by the ambition, guided by the fimaticism, and directed by the ability of tbat of Loiiis XIV., had gained the ascendency in Europe. Beyond all question, a universal despotic dominion would have been established over the bodies, a cruel spiritual thraldom over the minds of men. France and Spain united under Bourbon princes and in a close family alliance— the empire Charlemagne with that of Charles V. — the power which revoked the Edict of Nantes and perpetrated the massacre of St. Bartholomew, with that which ban- BATTLE OF BLENHEIM. 231 ished the Moriscoes and established the Inquisition, wonld have proved irresistible, and beyond example destructive to the best interests of mankind. "The Protestants might have been driven, like the pagan hea- thens of old by the son of Pepin, beyond the Elbe; the Stuart race, and with them liomish ascendency, might have been re-establish- ed in England; the fire lighted by Latimer and liidley might have been extinguished in blood; and the energy breathed by religious freedom into the Anglo-Saxon race might have ex- pired. The destinies of the wgrld would have been changed. Europe, instead of a variety of independent states, whose mutual hostility kept alive courage, while their national rivalry simu- lated talent, would have sunk into the slumber attendant on uni- versal dominion. The colonial empire of England would have withered away and perished, as that of Spain has done in the grasp of the Inquisition. The Anglo-Saxon race would have been arrest- ed in its mission to overspread the earth and subdue it. The centralized despotism of the Roman empire would have been re- newed on Continental Europe; the chains of liomish tyranny, and with them the general infidelity of France before the Ptevolu- tion, would have extinguished or perverted thought in the British Islands."* Marlborough's words at the council of war, when a battle was resolved on, are remarkable, and they deserve recording. We know them on the authority of his chaplain, Mr. (afterward Bishop] Hare, who accompanied him throughout the campaign, and in whose journal the biographers of Marlborough have found many of their best materials. Marlborough's Mords to the ofiicers who remonstrated with him on the seeming temerity of attacking the enemy in their jjosition were, "I know the danger, yet a laattle is absolutely necessary, and I rely on the bravery and discipline of the troops, which will make amends for our disadvantages." In the evening orders were issued for a general engagement, and received by the army with an alacrity which justified his confi- dence. The French and Bavarians were posted behind a little stream called the Nebel, which runs almost from north to south into the Danube immediately in front of the village of Blenheim. The Nebel flows along a little valley, and the French occupied the rising ground to the west of it. The village of Blenheim was t'Jie extreme right of their position, and the village of Lutzingen, about three miles north of Blenheim, formed their left. Beyond Lutzingen are the rugged high grounds of the Godd Berg and Eich Berg; on the skills of which some detachments were posted, so as to secure the Gallo-Bavarian position from being turned on the left flank. The Danube secured their right flank; and it was only in * AUson's " Lile of Marlborotrgli," p. 248. J32 DECISIVE BATTLES. front that they could be nttackod. The villages of Blenheim and Lutzingen had bpe save by Sweden becoming weak. The decisive triumph of Eussia over Sweden at Pultowa was therefore all-important to the world, on account of what it over- threw as well as for what it established ; jvnd it is the more deeply interesting, because it was not merely the crisis of a struggle be- tween two states, but it was a trial of strength between two great races of mankind. We must bear in mind, that while the Swedes, like the English, the Dutch, juid others, belong to the Germanic, r;\ce. the Bussians are a Sclavonic people. Nations of Sclavonian origin have long occupieil the greater part of Europe eastward of the Vistula, and the populations also of Bohemia, Croatia, Sorvia, Dalmatia, and other important regions westward of that river are Sclavonic. In the long and varied conflicts between them and the Germ:\nic nations that adjoin them, the Germanic race had, before Pultow:!, almost always maintained a siiperiority. With the single but important exception of Poland, no Sclavonic state had made any considerable ligure in history before the time when Peter tUe Great won his great victory over the Swedish king.* Whal **- iLe auisslte wan» mao*, perhaps, eutiUw Bohemia to be distingul&liea BA TTLE OF P UL TO WA. 23» EuBflia has done since that time we know and we feel. And some of the wiHcst and best m^n of our own age and nations, who have watchod with dof^pest care t?ie annals and the destinies of human- ity, have believed that the Sclavonic element in the poj^ulation of Europe has as yet only partially developed its powers ; that, while other races of mankind (our own, the Germanic, included) have exhausted their creative energies and completed their allotted achievements, the Sclavonic race has yet a great career to run ; and that the narrative of Sclavonic ascendency is the remaining i>age thai will conclude the history of the world.* Let it not be sux^ixjsed that in thus regarding the j)rimary tri- umph of Itussia over Sweden as a victory of the Sclavonic over the Germanic race, we are dealing with matters of mere ethnological pedantry, or with themes of mere speculative curiosity. The fact that Itussia is a Sclavonic empire is a fact of immense practical iniluence at the present moment. Half the inhabitants of the Aus- trian emjnre are Sclavonians, The population of the larger part of Turkey in Euroj^e is of the same race. Silesia, Posen, and other parts of the Prussian dominions are principally Sclavonic. And during late years an enthusiastic zeal for blending all Sclavonians into one great united Sclavonic emjjire has been growing up in these countries, which, however we may deride its principle, is not the less real and active, and of which liussia, as the head and the chamjjion of the Sclavonic race, knows well how to take her advantage. + * See Arnold's " Lectures on Modern History," p. .36-39. t " 'I'lie Idea ol Panslavjsra had a purely liUirary origin. It was started fey Kollar, a Protestant clerj^yrnan ot ttie Sclavonic conj^regatlon at Festli, in Hungary, who wished to establish a national literature by circulating all works, writtfin in the various Sclavonic dialects, through eveiT country where any or them are spoken. He suggested that ail the .Sclavonic literati should become acquaintf^d with the sister dialects, m tiiat a i:5ohemian, or other work, might be read on the shojes of the Adiiatlc as well as on the banks of the Volga, or any other place where a .Sclavonic lan^^ia^e was spoken; by which means an extensive literature might be created, tending to advance knowledge in all Sclavonic countries; and he supported his arguments by observing thai the dialects ot ancient Greece differed from each other like those of his own language, and yet that they formed only one Hffllenic literature. The idea of an intellectual uniori of all thoso nations naturally led to that of a political one; and the Sclavonians, seeing that tiielr numbers amounted t/j about one-third part of the wiioie popula- tion of Europe, and occupied more than half its territory, began to taa sensible that they might clahn for themselves a position to which they had not hithert/) aspired. " The opinion gained ground ; and the question now Is. whether the Sclavonians can form a nation independent of itussia, or whether they ought to rest satisfied in being part of one great race, with the most power- ful member of it as their chief. The latter, indeed, is gaining ground among them; and some Poles are disposed to attribute their sufferings to the abitrary will of the Ozar, without extending the blame to the Russians themselves. These beirtn to think thnt If x\\<-y cannot exist as Poles, the best tiling tx) be done is to rest satistif^l with a position in the Stdavonic empire, and they hope th'it w!i/>n oo'^e they givo uo the idea of restoring their country, Russia may grant some conce.ssloni; to their separate nationally. 240 DECISIVE BATTLES. It is a singular fact that Bussia owes her very name to a band of Swedish invaders who conquered her a thousand years ago. They were soon absorbed in the Sclavonic population, and every trace of the Swedish character had disappeared in Eussia for many cen- turies before her invasion by Charles XII. She was long the victim and the slave of the Tartars ; and for many considerable periods of years the Poles held her in subjugation. Indeed, if we except the expeditions of some of the early Eussian chiefs against Bj'-zantium, and the reign of Ivan Vasilovitch, the history of Eussia before the time of Peter the Great is one long tale of suffering and degradation. But, whatever may have been the amount of national injuries that she sustained from Swede, from Tartar, or from Pole in the ages of her weakness, she has certainly retaliated ten-fold durmg .the century and a half of her strength. Her rapid transition at the commencement of that period from being the prey of every con- queror to being the conqueror of all with whom she comes into contact, to being the oppressor instead of the oppressed, is almost "Without a parallel in the history of nations. It was the work of a single ruler ; who, himself without education, promoted science and literature among barbaric millions ; who gave them fleets, commerce, arts, and arms ; who, at Puitowa, taught them to face and beat the previously invincible Swedes ; and who made stub- born valor and implicit subordination from that time forth the distinguishing characteristics of the Eussian soldiery, which had before his time been a mere disorderly and irresolute rabble. The career of Phillip of Macedon resembles most nearly that of the great Muscovite Czar ; but there is this important difference, that Philip had, while young, received in Southern Greece the best education in all matters of peace and war that the ablest philoso- phers and generals of the age could bestow. Peter was brought up among barbarians and in barbaric ignorance. He strove to remedy this, when a grown man, by leaving all the temptations to idleness and sensuality which his court offered, and by seeking instruction abroad. He labored with his own hands as a common artisan in Holland and England, that he might return and teach his subjects how ships, commerce, and civilization could be ac- quired. There is a degree of heroism here superior to any thing that we know of in the Macedonian king. But Phillip's consoli- dation of the long-disunited Macedonian empire ; his raising a people, which he found the scorn of their civilized Southern neigh- bors, to be their dread ; his organization of a brave and well- disciplined army instead of a disorderly militia ; his creation of a maritime force, and his systematic skill in acquiring and improv- " The same Idea has heen put forward by writers m the Russian interest; great efforts are making among otlier Sclavonic people to induce them to look upon Kussia as their future head, and she has already gamed con- Biderahle influence over the Sclavomc populations of Tui'key."— Wilkin- ON s Dalmatia. BA TTLE OF P UL TO WA, 241 ing sea-ports and arsenals ; his patient tenacity of purpose under reverses ; his personal bravery, and even his proneness to coarse amusements and pleasures, all mark him out as the prototype of the imperial founder of the Eussian power. Injustice, however, to the ancient hero, it ought to be added, that we find in the his- tory of Philip no examples of that savage cruelty which deforms so grievously the character of Peter the Great. In considering the effects of the, overthrow which the Swedish arms sustained at Pultowa, and in speculating on the probable consequences that would have followed if the invaders had been successful, we must not only bear in mind the wretched state in which Peter found Kussia at his accession, compared with her present grandeur, but we must also keep in view the fact that, at the time when Pultowa was fought, his reforms were yet incom- plete, and his new institutions immature. He had broken up the Old Eussia ; and the New Eussia, which he ultimately created, was still in embryo. Had he been crushed at Pultowa, his im- mense labors would have been buried with him, and (to use the words of Voltaire) "the most extensive empire in the world would have relapsed into the chaos from which it had been so lately taken. " It is this fact that makes the repulse of Charles XII. the critical point in the fortunes of Eussia. The danger which she incurred a century afterward from her invasion by Napoleon was in reality far less than her peril when Charles attacked her, though the French emperor, as a military genius, was infinitely superior to the Swedish king, and led a host against her, compared with which the armies of Charles seem almost insignificant. But, as Fouchewell warned his imperial master, when he vainly endeav- ored to dissuade' him from his disastrous expedition against the empire of the Czars, the difference between the Eussia of 1812 and the Eussia of 1709 was greater than the disparity between the power of Charles and the might of Napoleon. "If that heroic king," gaid Fouche, "had not, like your imperial majesty, half Europe in arms to Tjack him, neither had his opponent, the Czar Peter, 400,000 soldiers and 50,000 Cossacks." The historians who describe the state of the Muscovite empire when revolutionary and imperial France encountered it, narrate with truth and justice how, "at the epoch of the French Eevolution, this immense em- pire, comprehending nearly half of Europe and Asia within its dominions, inhabited by a patient and indomitable race, ever ready to exchange the luxury and adventure of the South for the hardships and monotony of the North, was daily becoming more formidable to the liberties of Europe. * * The Eussian infan- try had then long been celebrated for its immovable firmness. Her immense population, amounting then in Europe alone to nearly thirty-five millions, afforded an inexhaustible supply of men. Her soldiers, inured to heat and cold from their infancy, and actuated by a blind devotion to their Czar, united the steady 242 DECTSlVk BATTLES. valor of the English to the impetuous energy of the French troops."* So, also, we read how the haughty aggressions of Bona- parte '• went to excite a national feeling from the banks of the Borysthenes to the wall of China, and to iinite against him the wild and uncivilized inhabitants of an extended empire, possessed by a love to their religion, tlieir government, and their country, and having a character of stern devotion, which he was incapable of estimating."t But the llustjia of 1700 had no such forces to op- pose to an assailant. Her whole population then was below six- teen millions ; and, what is far nnu-e important, this population had neither acquired military spirit nor strong nationality, nor was it united in loyal attachment to its ruler. Peter had wisely abolished the old regular troops of the empire, the Strelitzes ; but the forces which he had raised in their stead on a new and foreign plan, and principally officered with foreign- ers, had, before the Swedish invasion, given no proof that they could be relied on. In numerous encounters with the Swedes, Peter's soldiery had run like sheep before inferior numbers. Great discontent, also, had been excited among all classes of the com- munity by the arbitrary changes which their great emperor in- troduced, many of which clashed with the most cherished national prejudices of his subjects. A career of victory and prosperity had not yet raised Peter above the reach of that disatiection, nor had superstitious obedience to the Czar yet become the characteristic of the Muscovite mind. The victorious occupation of Moscow by Charles XII. would have quelled the Eussian nation as aftectually, as had been the case when Batoii Khan, and other ancient invad- ers, captured the capital of primitive Muscovy. How little such a triumph could effect toward subduing modern Eussia, the fate of Napoleon demonstrated at once and forever. The character of Charles XII. has been a favorite theme with historians, moralists, philosophers, and poets. Biit it is his mili- tary conduct during the campaign in Eussia that alone requires comment here. Napoleon, in the Memoirs dictated by him at St. Helena, has given us a sj'stematic criticism on that, among other celebrated campaigns, his own Eussian campaign included. He labors hard to prove that he himself observed all the true principles of oft'ensive war; and probably his censures on Charles's generalship were rat!ier highly colored, for the sake of making his own military skill stand out in more favorable relief. Yet after making all allowances, we must admit the force of Napoleon's strictures on Charles's tartics, and own that his judgment, though severe, is correct, when he pronounces that the Swedish king, un- like his great predecessor Gustavus, knew nothing of the art of war, and was nothing more than a brave and intrepid soldier. Such, however, was not the light in which Charles was regarded * AUson. t Scott's " Life of Napoleon." £A TTLE OF P UL TO W± 243 by his contemporaries at the commencement of his Russian expe- dition. His numerous victories, his daring and resolute spirit, combined with the ancient renown of the Swedish arms, then filled all Europe with admiration and anxiety. As Johnson ex- presses it, his name was then one at which the world grew jjale. Even Louis le Grand earnestly solicited his assistance; and our own MarlVjorough, then in the full career of his victories, was specially sent hy the English court to the camp of Charles, to propitiate the hero of the North in favor of the cause of the allies, and to prevent the Swedish sword from being flung into the scale in the French king's favor. But Charles at that time was solely bent on dethroning the sovereign of Eussia, as he had already dethroned the sovereign of Poland, and all Europe fully believed that he would entirely crush the Czar, and dictate conditions of peace in the Kremlin. * Charles himself looked on success as a matter of certainty, and the romantic extravagance of his views was continually increasing. " One year, he thought, would suffice for the conquest of Kussia. The court of Kome was next to feel his vengeance, as the pope had dared to oppose the concession of religious liberty to the Silesian Protestants. No enterprise at that time appeared impossible to him. He had even dispatched several officers privately into Asia and Egypt, to take plans of the towns, and examine into the strength and resources of those countries." f Napoleon thus epitomizes the earlier operations of Charles's invasion of Russia : " That prince set out from his camp at Aldstadt, near Leipsic, in September, 1707, at the head of 45,000 men, and traversed Poland; 20,000 men, under Count Lewenhaupt, disembarked at Riga; and 15,000 were in Finland. He was therefore in a condi- tion to have brought together 80,000 of the best troops in the world. He left 10,000 men at Warsaw to guard King Stanislaus, and in January, 1708, arrived at Grodno, where he wintered. In June, he crossed the forest of Minsk, and presented himself before Borisov; forced the Russian army, which occupied the left bank of the Beresina; defeated 20,000 Russians who were strongly in- trenched behind marshes; passed the Borysthenes atMohilov, and vanquished a corps of 16,000 Muscovites near Smolensk© on ihe 22d of September. He was now advanced to the confines of Lithuania, and was about to enter Russia Proper: the Czar, alarm- ed at his approach, made him proposals of peace. Up to this time all his movements were conformable to rule, and his communica- tions were well secured. He was master of Poh.nd and Riga, and only ten days' march distant from Moscow; and it is probable * Voltaire attests, Irom personal Inspection of the letters of several pub- lic ministers to tneir respective courts, that such was the general expecta- tion, t Crighton's " bcandinavia." 2U DECISIVE BATTLES. that he "would have reached that capital, had he not quitted the high road, thither, and, directed his steps toward the Ukraine, in order to form a junction with Mazeppa, who brought him only 6,U00 men. By this movement, his line of operations, beginning at Sweden, exposed his flank to Kussia for a distance of four hun- dred leagues, and he was unable to protect it, or to receive either re-enforcements or assistance." Napoleon severely censures this neglect of one of the great rules of war. He points out that Charles had not organized his war, like Hannibal, on the principle of relinquishing all communica- tions with home, keeping all his forces concentrated, and creating a base of operations in the conquering country. Such had been the bold system of the Carthaginian general ; but Charles acted on no such principle, inasmuch as he caused Lewenhaapt, one of his generals who commanded a considerable detachment, and escorted a most important convoy, to follow him at a distance of twelve days' march. By this dislocation of his forces he exposed Lewen- hauptto be overwhelmed separately by the full force of the enemy, and deprived the troops under his own command of the aid which that general's men and stores might have afforded at the very crisis of the campaign. The Czar had collected an army of about 100,000 effective men ; and though the Swedes, in the beginning of the invasion, were successful in every encounter, the Bussian troops were gradually acquiring discipline ; and Peter and his ofl&cers were learning gen- eralship from their victors, as the Thebans of old learned it from the Spartans. When Lewenhaupt, in the October of 1708, was striving to join Charles in the Ukraine, the Czar suddenly attacked him near the Borj^sthenes with an overwhelming force of 50,000 Kussians. Lewenhaupt fought bravely for three days, and suc- ceeded in cutting his way through the enemy with about 4,000 of his men to where Charles awaited him near the Eiver Desna ; but Upward of 8,000 Swedes fell in these battles ; Lewenhaupt's cannon and ammunition were abandoned ; and the whole of his important convoy of provisions, on which Charles and his half-starved troops Were relying, fell into the enemy's hands. Charles was compelled to remain in the Ukraine during the winter ; but in the spring of 1709 he moved forward toward Moscow, and invested the fortified town of Pultowa, on the River Vorksla ; a place where the Czar had stored up large supplies of provisions and military stores, and which commanded the passes leading toward Moscow. The pos- session of this place would have given Charles the means of sup- plying all the wants of his suffering army, and would also have furnished him with a secure base of operations for his advance against the Muscovite capital. The siege was therefore hotly pressed by the Swedes ; the garrison resisted obstinately : and the Czar, feeling the importance of saving the town, advanced in June to its relief.at the head of an army from fifty to sixty thousand strong. BA TTLE OF PITLTO WA. 245 'Both sovereigns now prepared for the general action, which each «aw to be inevitable, and which each felt would be decisive of his own and of his country's destiny. The Czar, by some masterly paaneuvers, crossed the Yorksla, and posted his army on the same ^ide of that river with the besiegers, but a little higher up. The Vorksla falls into the Borysthenes about fifteen leagues below Pul- towa, and the Czar arranged his forces in two lines, stretching /rom one river toward the other, so that if the Swedes attacked him And were repulsed, they would be driven backward into the acute angle formed by the two streams at their junction. He fortified these lines with several redoubts, lined with heavy artillery ; and his troops both horse and foot, were in the best possible condition, and amply provided with stores and ammunition. Charles's forces were about 24,000 strong. But not more than half of these were Swedes : so much had battle, famine, fatigue, and the deadly frosts of Eussia thinned the gallant bands which the Swedish king and Lewenhaupt had led to the Ukraine. The other 12,000 men, under Charles, were Cossacks and Wallachians, who had joined him in the country. On hearing that tbe Czar was about to attack him, he deemed that his dignity required that he himself should be the assailant ; and, leading his army out of their intrenched lines before the town, he advanced with them against the Russian redoubts. He had been severely wounded in the foot in a skirmish a few days before, and was borne in a litter along the ranks into the thick of the fight. Notwithstanding the fearful disparity of num- bers and disadvantage of position, the Swedes never showed their ancient valor more nobly than on that dreadful day. Nor do their Cossack and Wallachian allies seem to have been unworthy of fighting side by side with Charles's veterans. Two of the Russian redoubts were actually entered, and the Swedish infantry began to raise the cry of victory. But, on the other side, neither general nor soldiers flinched in their duty. The Russian cannonade and musketry were kept up ; fresh masses of defenders were poured into the fortifications, and at length the exhausted remnants of the Swedish columns recoiled from the blood-stained redoubts. Then the Czar led the infantry and cavalry of his first line outside the works, drew them up steadily and skilfully, and the action was renewed along the whole fronts of the two armies on the open ground. Each sovereign exposed his life freely in the world- winning battle, and on each side the troops fought obstinately and eagerly under their ruler's eye. It was not till two hours from the commencement of the action that, overpowered by numbers, the hitherto invincible Swedes gave way. All was then hopeless dis- order and irreparable rout. Driven downward to where the rivers join, the fugitive Swedes surrendered to their victorious pursuers, or perished in the waters of the Borysthenes. Only a few hundreds swam that rWer with their king and the Cossac^k; Mazeppa, and ^46 i DECISIVE BATTLES. escapea into the Turkish territory. Nearly 10,000 lay killed and wounded in the redoubts and on the field of battle. In the joy of his heart the Czar exclaimed, when the strife was over, " That the son of the morning had fallen from heaven, and that the foundation of St. Petersburg at length stood firm." Even on that battle-field, near the Ukraine, the Russian emperor's first thoughts were of conquests and aggrandizement on the Baltic. The peace of Nystadt, which transferred the fairest provinces of Sweden to Eussia, ratified the judgment of battle which was pro- nounced at Pultowa. Attacks on Turkey and Persia by Eussia commenced almost directly after that victory. And though the Czar failed in his first attempts against the sultan, the successors of Peter have, one and all, carried on a uniformly aggressive and successive system of policy against Turkey, and against every other state, Asiatic as well as European, which has had the misfortune ol having Eussia for a neighbor. Orators and authors, who have discussed the progress of Eussia, have often alluded to the similitude between the modern extension of the Muscovite empire and the extension of the Eoman dominions in ancient times. But attention has scarcely been drawn to the closeness of the parallel between conquering Eussia and conquer- ing Eome, not only in the extent of conquests, but in the means of effec.ting conquest. The history of Eome during the century and a half which followed the close of the second Punic war, and during which her largest acquisitions of territory were made, should be minutely compared with the history of Eussia for the last one hundred and fifty years. The main points of similitude can only be indicated in these pages ; but they deserve the fullest consider- ation. Above all, the sixth chapter of Montesquieu's great treatise on Eome, ' ' De la conduite que les Eomains tinrent pour soumettre les peuples," should be carefully studied by every one who watches the career and policy of Eussia. The classic scholar will remem- ber the state-craft of the Eoman senate, which took care in every foreign war to appear in the character of a Protector. Thus Eome protected the ^tolians and the Greek cities against Macedon ; she protected Bithynia and other small Asiatic states against the Syrian kings ; she protected Numidia against Carthage -, and in numerous other instances assumed the same specious character. But "woe to the people whose liberty depends on the continued forbearance of an over-mighty protector."* Every state which Eome protected was ultimately subjugated and absorbed by her. And Eussia has been the protector of Poland — the protector of the Crimea — the protector of Courland — the protector of Georgia, Immeritia, Mingrelia, the Tcherkessian and Caucasian tribes, etc. She has first protected, and then appropriated them all. She pro- tects Moldavia and Wallachia. A few years ago she became the * MaUdLa's " History o£ Greece," SFNOPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC. 247 protector of Turkey from Mehemet Ali ; and since the summer of 18-49, she has made herself the protector of Austria. When the partisans of Kussia speak of the disinterestedness with which she withdrew her protecting troops from Constantinople and from Hungary, let us here also mark the ominous exactness of the parallel between her and Eome. While the ancient world yet con- tained a number of independent states, which might have made a formidable league against Rome if she had alarmed them by openly avowing her ambitious schemes, Eome's favorite policy was seem- ing disinterestedness and moderation. After her first war against Philijj, after that against Antiochus, and many others, victorious Rome promptly withdrew her troops from the territories which they occupied. She affected to employ her arms only for the good of others. But, when the favorable moment came, she always found a pretext for marching her legions back into each coveted district, and making it a Roman province. Fear, not moderation, is the only effective check on the ambition of such powers as ancient Rome and modern Russia. The amount of that fear de- pends on the amount of timely vigilance and energy which other states choose to employ against the common enemy of their freedom and national independence. Synopsis of Events between the Battle op Pultowa, a.d. 1709, AND THE Defeat of Buegoyne at Saratoga, a.d. 1777. A.D. 1713. Treaty of Utrecht. Philip is left by it in possession of the throne of Spain. But Naples, Milan, the Spanish territories on the Tuscan coast, the Spanish Netherlands, and some parts of the French Netherlands, are given to Austria. France cedes to England Hudson's Bay and Straits, the island of St. Christopher, Nova Scotia, and Newfoundland in America. Spain cedes to Eng- land Gibraltar and Minorca, which the English had taken during the war. The King of Prussia and the Duke of Savoy both obtain considerable additions of territory to their dominions. 1715. Death of Queen Anne. The house of Hanover begins to reign in England. A rebellion in favor of the Stuarts is put down. Death of Louis XIV. 1718. Charles XII. killed at the siege of Frederickshall. ' 1725. Death of Peter the Great of Russia. 1740. Frederic II. king of Prussia. He attacks the Austrian dominions, and conquers Silesia. 1742. War between France and England. 1743. Victory of the English at Dettingen. 1745. Victory of the French atFontenoy. Rebellion in Scotland in favor of the house of Stuart ; finally quelled by the battle of Culloden in the next year, 248 DECISIVE BATTLES. 1748. Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1756-1763. The Seven Year's War, during whicli Prussia makes an heroic resistance against the armies of Austria, Russia, and France. England, under the administration of the elder Pitt (afterward Lord Chatham), takes a glorious part in the war in opposition to France and Spain. Wolfe wins the battle of Quebec, jand the English conquer Canada, Cape Breton, and St. John. Cliva begins his career of conquest in India. Cuba is taken by the English from Spain. 1763. Treaty of Paris ; which leaves the power of Prussia in* creased, and its military reputation greatly exalted. "France, by the treaty of Paris, ceded to England Canada and the island of Cape Breton, with the islands and coasts of the gulf and *iver of St. Lawrence. The boundaries between the two nations in North America were fixed by a line drawn along the middle of the Mississippi from its source to its mouth. All on the left or eastern bank of that river wais given up to England, except the city of New Orleans, which was reserved to France ; as w^as also the liberty of the fisheries on a part of the coasts of Newfound- land and the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The islands of St. Petei- and Miquelon were given them as a shelter for their fishermen, but w^ithout permission to raise fortifications. The islands of Mar- tinico, Guadaloupe, Mariegalante, Desirada, and St. Lucia, were surrendered to France; while Grenada, the Grenadines, St. Vin- cent, Dominica, and Tobago, were ceded to England. This latter power retained her conquests on the Senegal, and restored to France the island of Gorea, on the coast of Africa. France was put in possession of the forts and factories which belonged to her in the East Indies, on the coasts of Coromandel, Orissa, Malabar, and Bengal, under ohe restriction of keeping up no military force in Bengal. "In Europe, France restored all the conquests she had made in Germany, as also the island of Minorca. England gave up to her Belleisle, on the coast of Brittany ; while Dunkirk was kept in the same condition as had been determined by the peace of Aix-la- Chapelle. The island of Cuba, with the Havana, were restored to ttie King of Spain, who, on his part, ceded to England Florida, with Port Augustine and the Bay of Pensacola. The King of Portugal was restored to the same state in which he had been before the war. The colony of St. Sacrament in America, which the Spaniards had conquered, was given back to him. " The peace of Paris, of which we have just now spoken, was the era of England's greatest prosperity. Her commerce and naviga- tion extended over all parts of the globe, and were supported by a naval force, so much the more imposing, as it was no longer coun- terbalanced by the maritime power of France, which had been almost annihilated in the preceding war. The immense territories "Which that peace had secured her, both in Alri«a and Americj^ VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 249 opened np new channels for her industry ; and what deserves *Npecially to be remarked is, that she acquired at the same time vast and important possessions in the East Indies.* CHAPTER XnL ▼ICTOBT OF THE AMERICANS OVER BURGOYKE AT SARATOGA, A.D. 1777. Westward tlie course of empire takes its way ; The flrst four acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day, Time's noblest offspring is its last. Bishop Berkeley. Of the four great powers that now principally rule the political destinies of the world, France and England are the only two whose influence can be dated back beyond the last century and a half. The third great power, Eussia, was a feeble mass of barbarism be- fore the epoch of Peter the Great ; and the very existence of the fourth great power, as an independent nation, commenced within the memory of living men. By the fourth great power of the world I mean the mighty commonwealth of the Western Continent, which now commands the admiration of mankind. That homage is sometimes reluctantly given, and is sometimes accompanied with suspicion and ill will. But none can refuse it. All the physical essentials for national strength are undeniably to be found in the geographical position and amplitude of territory which the United States possess ; and their almost inexhaustible tracts of fertile but hitherto untouched soil, in their stately forests, in their moun- tain chains and their rivers, their beds of coal, and stores of metallic wealth, in their extensive sea-board along the waters of two oceans, and in their already numerous and rapidly-increasing population. And when we examine the character of this popula- tion, no one can look on the fearless energy, the sturdy determina- tion, the aptitude for local self-government, the versatile alacritj'-, and the unresting spirit of enterprise which characterize the Anglo- Americans, without feeling that here he beholds the true elements of progressive might. Three quarters of a century have not yet passed since the United States ceased to be mere dependencies of England. And even if we date their origin from the period when the first permanent European settlements out of which they grew were made on the western coast of the North Atlantic, the increase of their strength is unparalleled either in raj)idity or extent. * Kochs " RevoluUoaa of Europe." 250 bECmVE BATTLED The ancient Roman boasted, with reason, of the growth of Rome from humble beginnings to the greatest magnitude which the world had then ever witnessed. But the citizen of the United States is still more justly entitled to claim this praise. In two centuries and a half his country has acquired ampler dominion than the Roman gained in ten. And even if we credit the legend of the band of shepherds and outlaws with which Romulus is said to have colonized the Seven Hills, we find not there so small a germ of future greatness as we find in the group of a hundred and five ill- chosen and disunited emigrants who founded Jamestown in 1G07, or in the scanty band of Pilgrim Fathers who, a few years later, moored their bark on the wild and rock-bound coast of the wilder- ness that was to become New England. The power of the United States is emphatically the "imperium quo neque ab exordio ullum fere minus, neque incrementis toto orbe amplius humana potest memoria recordari."* Nothing is more calculated to impress the mind with a sense of the rapidity with which the resources of the American republic advance, than the difficulty which the historical enquirer finds in ascertaining their precise amount. If he consults the most recent works, and those written by the ablest investigators of the subject, he finds in them admiring comments on the change which the last few years, before those books were written, had made ; but when he turns to apply the estimates in those books to the present mo- ment, he finds them wholly inadequate. Before a book on the subject of the United States has lost its novelty, those states have outgrown the descriptions which it contains. The celebrated work of the French statesman, De Tocqueville, appeared about fifteen years ago. In the passage which I am about to quote, it will be seen that he predicts the constant increase of the Anglo-American power, but he looks on the Rocky Mountains as their extreme western limit for many years to come. He had evidently no ex- pectation of himself seeing that power dominant along the Pacific as well as along the Atlantic coast. He says :+ •' The distance from Lake Superior to the Gulf of Mexico ex- tends from the 47th to the 30th degree of latitude, a distance of more than 1200 miles, as the bird flies. The frontier of the United States winds along the whole of this immense line, some- times falling within its limits, but more frequently extending far beyond it into the waste. It has been calculated that the whites advance every year a mean distance of seventeen miles along this vast boundary. Obstacles, such as an unproductive district, a * Eutroplus, lib. i., exordium. t The original French of these passages will t»e found in the chapter on *' Queues sent les chances de duree de runion Americaine— Quels dangers la menacent,'' in the third volimie of the first pazt of De I'ocqueville, and in the eouelusion of the first part. They are (with others) collected and traiii Iftted toy Mr. Alison, in his " Essays,'' vol. hi., p. 3I-4. VICTORY OF TBE AMEltlCANii AT SARATOGA, ^51 lake, or an Indian nation unexpectedly encountered, are some- tiraes met with. The advancing column then halts for a while ; its two extremities fall back upon themselves, and as soon as they are reunited, they proceed onward. This gradual and continuous progress of the European race toward the Kocky Mountains has the solemnity of a providential event; it is like a deluge of men rising unabatedly, and daily driven onward by the hand of God. "Within this first line of conquering settlers towns are built and vast states founded. In 1790 there were only a few thousand pio- neers sprinkled along the valleys of the Mississippi; and at the present day, these valleys contain as many inhabitants as were to be found in the whole Union in 1790. Their population amounta to nearly lour millions. The City of Washington was founded in 1800, in the very center of the Union; but such are the changes which have taken place, that it now stands at one of the ex- tremities; and the delegates of the most remote Western States are already obliged to perform a journey as long as that from Vienna to Paris. "It must not, then, be imagined that the impulse of the British race in the New World can be arrested . The dismemberment of the Union, and the hostilities which might ensue, the abolition of republican institutions, and the tyrannical government wiiicli might succeed it, may retard this impulse, but they cannot -^ve- vent it from ultimately fulfilling the destinies to which that race is reserved. No power upon earth can close upon the emigrants that fertile wilderness, which offers resources to all industry, and a refuge from all want. Future events, of whatever nature they may be, will not deprive the Americans of their climate or of their inland seas, of their great rivers or of their exuberant soil. Nor will bad laws, revolutions and anarchy be able to obliterate that love of prosperity and that spirit of enterprise which seem to be the dis- tinctive characteristics of their race, or to extinguish that knowl- edge which guides them on their way. "Thus, in the midst of the uncertain future, one event at least is sure. At a period which may be said to be near (for we are speaking of the life of a nation), the Anglo-Americans will alone cover the immense space contained between the Polar Regions and the Tropics, extending from the coast of the Atlantic to the shores of the Pacific Ocean; the territory which will probably be occu- pied by the Anglo-Americans at some future time may be com- puted to equal three quarters of Europe in extent. The climate of the Union is upon the whole preferable to that of Europe, and its natural advantages are not less great; it is therefore evident that its population will at some future time be proportionate to our own. Europe, divided as it is between so many different nations, and torn as it has been by incessant wars and the barbarous manners of the Middle Ages, has notwithstanding, attained a population of AlO inhabitants to the square league. What cauaw 252 DECISIVE BATTLES. can prevent the United States from having as numerous a popul^v- tion in time ? "The time will therefore come when one hundred and fifty millions of men will be living in North America, equal in condi- tion, the progeny of one race, owing their origin to the same cause, and preserving the same civilization, the same language, the same religion, the same habits, the same manners, and imbued with the same opinions, propagated under the same forms. The rest is un- certain, but this is certain ; and it is a fact new to the world, a fact fniught with such portentous consequences as to baffle the efforts even of the imagination/' Let us turn from the French statesman writing in 1835, to an English statesman who is justly regarded as the highest authority in all statistical subjects, and who described the United States only five years ago. Macgregor* tells us — "The states which, on the ratification of independence, formed the American Eepublican Union, were thirteen, viz. : "Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Khode Island, New York, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, Pennsjdvania, Vir- ginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. "The foregoing thirteen states {the whole inhabited territory of ichich, with the exception of a few srnccll settlements, loas confined to the region extending between the Alleghany Moitntains and the Atlantic) were those which existed at the period when they became an acknowledged separate and independent federal sovereign power. The thirteen stripes of the standard or flag of the United States continue to represent the original number. The stars have multi- plied to twenty-six, t according as the number of states have ^ increased. "The territory of the thirteen original states of the Union, including Maine and Vermont, comprehended a superficies of 371,124: English square miles, that of the whole United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, 120,354; that of France, including Corsica, 21-1,910; that of the Austrian empire, including Hungary and all the Imperial states, 257,540 English square miles. "The present superficies of the twenty-six constitutional states of the Anglo-American Union, and the District of Columbia, and territories of Florida, include 1,029,025 square miles; to which if we add the Northwest, or Wisconsin Territory, east of the Missis- sippi, and bound by Lake Superior on the north, and Michigan on the east, and occupying at least 100,000 square miles, and then add the great western region, not yet well defined territories, but at the most limited calculation comprehending 700,000 square miles, the whole unbroken in its vast length and breadth by for* eign nations, comprehends a portion of the earth's surface equal to 1,729,025 English, or 1,29G,770 geographical square miles." * Macgregor's " Commercial Statistics." vol. iii., p. 13, t Fresh stars have dawned since this was written. VIOTORT OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 253 Irote, the American president truystated^^^^^ ^^^ treaty. The aj'l'^ °J ^.^.^^^ . ^j^^e the area of the remaining "eVeni'/aS^nd over wM dominion have ''•'ff ,,^j'^^tth ™s hdd VlCvrnteA States halt as large as all that ^.''i* ™\7 g^^l^ded from the esti- before their ^XSJl remain wfthin the limits of Texas, New mate, there ^>\' L s? WSsauare miles, or 545,012,720 acres, Mexico, and California, bol,'jJo square luiico, > . . . -i '"'^f.t'riUf of nSTs^tiV^^d of 400 miles; of the coast .of eluding the fetraits Of fl^^^'^J^^^^^^e whole extent on both the 254 DECISIVE BATTLES. the length of the shore-line of coast, as estimated by the superin- tendent of the Coast Survey in his report, would be 33,063 miles." The importance of the power of the United States being then firmly planted along the Pacific applies not only to the New World, but to the Old. Opposite to San Francisco, on the coast of that ocean, lie the wealthy but decrepit empires of China and Japan. Numerous groups of islets stud the larger part of the in- tervening sea, and form convenient stepping-stones for the prog- ress of commerce or ambition. The intercourse of traffic between these ancient Asiatic monarchies and the young Anglo-American republic must be rapid and extensive. Any attempt of the Chi- nese or Japanese rulers to check it will only accelerate an armed collision. The American w411 either buy or force his way. Be- tween such populations as that of China and Japan on the one side, and that of the United States on the other — the former haughty, formal, and insolent ; the latter bold, intrusive, and un- scrupulous — causes of quarrel must sooner or later arise. The re- sults of such a quarrel cannot be doubted. America will scarcely imitate the forbearance shown by England at the end of our late war with the Celestial Empire ; and the conquests of China and Japan, by the fleets and armies of the United States, are events which many now living are likely to witness. Compared with the magnitude of such changes in the dominion of the Old World, the certain ascendency of the Anglo-Americans over Central and Southern America seems a matter of secondary importance. Well may we repeat De Tocqueville's words, that the growing power of this commonwealth is *'un fait entierement nouveau dans le monde, et dont I'imagination elle-memene sauraitsaisirlaportee." An Englishman may look, and ought to look, on the growing grandeur of the Americans with no small degree of generous sym- pathy and satisfaction. They, like ourselves, are members of the great Anglo-Saxon nation, "whose race and language are now overrunning the world from one end of it to the other."* And whatever differences of form of government may exist between us and them — whatever reminiscences of the days when, though brethren, we strove together, may rankle in the minds of us, the defeated party, we should cherish the bonds of common national- ity that still exist between us. We should remember, as the Athe- nians remembered of the Spartans at a season of jealousy and temptation, that our race is one, being of the same blood, speak- ing the same language, having an essential resemblance in our in- stitutions and usages, and worshipping in the temples of the same God.f All this may and should be borne in mind. And yet an Englishman can hardly watch the progress of America without * Arnold. t Eoy ojLiarjiiov rs xai 6j.i6yXoq66oVy nal Qeoov iSpv^ard re xoivd xai !^v6lai, oQea ra o}xor poita.. — Hekodotus, viii,, 144. VICTOR Y OF THE AMERICANS A T SARA TO GA. 255 the regretful tliouglit tliat America once was English, and that, but for the folly of our rulers, she might be English still. It is true that the commerce between the two countries has largely and beneficially increased, but this is no proof that the increase would not have been still greater had the states remained integral por- tions of the same great empire. By giving a fair and just partici- pation in political rights, these, "the fairest possessions" of the British crown, might have been preserved to it. "This ancient and most noble monarchy "* would not have been dismembered ; nor should we see that which ought to be the right arm of our strength, now menacing us in every political crisis as the most formidable rival of our commercial and maritime ascendency. The war which rent away the North American colonies from England is, of all subjects in history, the most painful for an Eng- lishman to dwell on . It was commenced and carried on by the British ministry in iniquity and folly, and it was concluded in disaster and shame. But the contemplation of it cannot be evaded by the historian, however much it may be abhorred. Nor can any military event be said to have exercised more important in- fluence on the future fortunes of mankind than the complete de- feat of Burgoyne's expedition in 1777 ; a defeat which rescued the revolted colonists from certain subjection, and which, by induc- ing the courts of France and Spain to attack England in their be- half, insured the independence of the United States, and the for- mation of that trant'at] antic power which not only America, but both Europe and Asia now see and feel. Still, in procee&ing to describe this *' decisive battle of the world," a very brief recapitulation of the earlier events of the war may be sufficient ; nor shall I linger unnecessarily on a pain- ful theme. The five northern colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut Ehode Island, New Hampshire, and Vermont, usually classed to- gether as the New England colonies, were the strongholds of the insurrection against the mother country. The feeling of resistance was less vehement and general in the central settlement of New York, and still less so in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and the other colonies of the South, although every where it was formidably strong. But it was among the descendants of the stern Puritans that the spirit of Cromwell and Vane breathed in all its fervor ; it was from the New Englanders that the first armed opposition to the British crown had been olTered ; and it was by them that the most stubborn determination to fight to the last, rather than waive a single right or privilege, bad been displayed. In 1775 they had succeeded in forcing the British troops to evacuate Boston ; and the events of 1777 had made New. York (which the Eoyalists captured in that year) the principal basis of operations for the armies of the mother country. * Lord Chatiiam. " 256 DECISIVE BATTLES. A glance at the map will show that the Hudson River, which falls into the Atlantic at New York, runs down from the north at the back of the New England States , forming an angle of about lorty-hve degrees with the line of the coast of the Atlantic, along which the New England States are situate. Northward of the Hudson we see a small chain of lakes communicating with the Canadian frontier. It is necessary to attend closely to these geo- graphical points, in order to understand the plan of the opera- tions which the English attempted in 1777, and which the battle of Saratoga defeated. « The English had a considerable force in Canada, and in 1776 had completely repulsed an attack which the Americans had made upon that province. The British ministry resolved to avail themselves, in the next year, of 'the advantage which the occupa- tion of Canada gave them, not merely for the purpose of defense, but for the purpose of striking a vigorous and crushing blow against the revolted colonies. With this view the army in Canada was largely re-enforced. Seven thousand veteran troops were sent out from England, with a corps of artillery abundantly supplied and led by select and experienced oJB&cers. Large quantities of military stores were also furnished for the equipment of the Cana- dian volunteers, who were expected to join the expedition. It was intended that the force thus collected should march south- ward by the line of the lakes, and thence along the banks of the Hudson River. The British army from New York (or a large de- tachment of it) was to make a simultaneous movement northward, up the line of the Hudson, and the two expeditions were to unite at Albany, a town on that river. By these operations, all communi- cation between the northern colonies and those of the center and south would be cut off. An irresistible force would be con- centrated, so as to crush all further opposition in New England : and when this was done, it was believed that the other colonies would speedily submit. The Americans had no troops in the field that seemed able to baflle these movements. Their principal army, under Washington, was occupied in watching over Penn- sylvania and the South. At any rate, it was believed that, in order to oppose the plan intended for the new campaign, the insurgents must risk a pitched battle, in which the superiority of the Royal- ists, in numbers, in discipline, and in - equipment, seemed to promise to the latter a crowning victory. Without question, the plan was ably formed ; and had the success of the execution been equal to the ingenuity of the design, the reconquest or submission of the thirteen United States must in all human probability have followed, and the independence which they proclaimed in 1776 would have been extinguished before it existed a second year. No European power had as yet come forward to aid America. It is true that England was generally regarded with jealousy and ill will, and was thought to have acquired, at the treaty of Paris a VICTORY OF THE AMERICANS AT SARATOGA. 257 preponderance of dominion -wliich was perilous to the balance of power ; but, though many were willing to wound, none had yet ventured to strike ; and America, if defeated in 1777, would have been suffered to fall unaided. Burgoyne had gained celebrity by some bold and dashing ex- ploits in Portugal during the last war; he was personally as brave an officer as ever headed British troops; he had considerable skill as a tactitian; and his general intellectual abilities and acquire- ments were of a high order. He had several very able and ex- perienced officers under him, among whom were Major General Philips and Brigadier General Frazer. His regular troops amount- ed, exclusively of the corps of artillery, to about 7,200 men, rank and file. Nearly half of these were Germans. He had also an auxiliary force of from two to three thousand Canadians. He summmoned the warriors of several tribes of the red Indians near the Western lakes to join his army. Much eloquence was poured forth both in America and in England in denouncing the use of these savage auxiliaries. Yet Burgoyne seems to have done no more than Montcalm, Wolfe, and other French, American, and English generals had done before him. But, in truth, the lawless ferocity of the Indians, their unskilfulness in regular action, and the utter impossibility of bringing them under any discipline, made their services of little or no value in times of difficulty ; while the indignation which their outrages inspired went far to rouse the whole population of the invaded districts into active hostilities against Burgoyne's force. Burgoyne assembled his troops and confederates near the Biver Bonquet, on the west side of Lake Champlain. He then, on the 21stof June> 1777, gave his red allies a war feast, and harangued them on the necessity of abstaining from their usual cruel prac- tices against unarmed people and prisoners. At the same time, he published a pompous manifesto to the Americans, in which he threatened the refractory with all the horrors of war, Indian as well as European. The army proceeded by water to Crown Point, a fortification which the Americans held at the northern extremity of the inlet, by which the water from Lake George is conveyed to Lake Champlain. He landed here without opposition; but the reduction of Ticonderoga, a fortification about twelve miles from Crown Point, was a more serious matter, and was supposed to be the most critical part of the expedition. Ticonderoga commanded the passage along the lakes, and was considered to be tha key to the route which Burgoyne wished to follow. The English had been repulsed in an attack on it in the war with the French in 1758 with severe loss. But Burgoyne now invested it with great skill ; and the American general, St. Clair, who had only an ill equipped army of 3,000 men, evacuated it on the 5th of July. It seems evi- dent that a different course would have caused the destruction or capture of his whole army, which, weak as it was, was the chifef D.B.— 9 258 DECISIVE BATTLES. force then in the field for the protection of the New England States. When censured by some of his countrymen for abandoning Ticon- deroga St. Clair truly replied "that he had lost a post, but saved a province. " Burgoyne's troops pursued the retiring Americans, gained several advantages over them, and took a large part of their artillery and military stores. The loss cf the British in these engagements was trifling. The army moved southward along Lake George to Skenesborough, and thence, slowly and with great, difficultj^, across a broken country, full of creeks and marshes, and clogged by the enemy with felled trees and other obstacles, to Fort Edward, on the Hudson Eiver, the American troops continuing to retire before them. Burgoyne reached the left bank of the Hudson Biver on the 30th of July. Hitherto he had overcome every difficulty which the enemy and the nature of the country had placed in his way. His army was in excellent order and in the highest spirits, and the peril of the expedition seemed over v/hen once on the bank of the river which was to be the channel of communication between them and the British army in the South. But their feelings, and those of the English nation in general when their successes were announced, may best be learned from a contemporary writer. Burkf^- in the "Annual Register" for 1777, describes them thus: " Such was the rapid torrent of success, which swept every tning away before the Northern army in its onset. It is not to be won- dered at if both officers and private men were highly elated with their good fortune, and deemed that and their prowess to be irre- sistible; if they regarded their enemy with the greatest contempt ; considered their own toils to be nearly at an end; Albany to be al- ready in their hands; and the reduction of the northern provinces to be rather a matter of some time than an arduous task full of diffi- culty and danger. "At home, the joy and exultation was extreme; not only at court, but with all those who hoped or wished the unqualified subjugation and unconditional submission of the colonies. The loss of repu- tation was greater to the Americans, and capable of more fatal consequences, than even that of ground, of posts, of artillery, or of men. All the contemptuous and most degrading charges which had been made by their enemies, of their wanting the resolu- tion and abilities of men, even in their defense of whatever was dear to them, were now repeated and believed. Those who still regarded them as men, and who had not yet lost all afiection to them as brethren; who also retained hopes that a happy reconcilia- tion upon constitutional principles, without sacrificing the dignity of just authority of government on the one side, or dereliction of rights of freemen on the other, was not even now impossible, not- withstanding their favorable dispositions in general, could nothelp feeling upon this occasion that the Ameri. Tho Hritish siok and woundod who had faUon into tho hands of tho Amorians aftor tho battlo of tho sovouth woro troatod with ox- emplarv humanity; and whon tho Convontion was oxooutod, Gon- «rjil thvtos showod a nobh> dolicaoy of fooling, which dosorvos tho liighost dogroo of hvmor, Evorv oiroiimstauoo was avoiilod whioh Oi>uld givo tho appoanuico of triumph. Tho Amorioau troops ronminod within thoir linos until tho Jhitish had pilod thoirarms; iind whon this was dono, tho vanquishod othoors and soldiors woro recoivod with froindly kindnoss by thoir viotm-s, anvl thoir immodi- ate wants woro promptly and liborally sui^pliod. IMsoussions and disptitos aftorward arose as to somo of tho tonus of tho Convoiition, and tho Aniorioan Congress rofusod for a long timo to oarry into tftloot tho artiolo whioh proviilod for tho roturn of Hurgoyno's niou to Europo : but no blanio was imimtod to Gontn-al Gates or his army, who showod thoausolvos to bo generous as they had proved thomsolvos to bo bi*}\vo. Gates, aftor tho victory. in\modiately dispatched to Colonel "Wil- kinson to carry tho happy tidings to Congress. On being intro- duced into tho hall, he said. **The whole British army has laid Its anus at Sanvtogix ; our own. full of vigor and counige, expect your ordoi-s. It is for your wisdom to decide where the country nun* stiTl have need of their services." Honors and ivwards wore liberally voted by tho Congress to their conquering general and his men : and it would bo dillieult (says the Italian historian "i to describe tho transports of joy which tho news of this event excited luuong the Americans. They began to flatter themselves with a still more happy future. No one any longer felt juiy doubt about thoir achieving their independence. All hoped, and with good re:isou. that a success of tliis iu\poi*tanco would at length determiuo Franco, and the other European powers tliat waited for her exam pie, to doclant* themselves in favor of America. " 2' here could no longer be any question reitpetiini) the future, since there teas no lomjer the risk of espousing the cause of a i^xiple too feeble to dtfend themselves. "* The trtith of this was soon displayed in the conduct of Fmnce. "When the news arrived at Paris of tho capture of Ticondoroga, and of tho victorious march of l^urgoyno toward Albany, events which seemed decisive in favor of tho English, instnaetions had been immediately dispatched to Nant/.. and tho other ports of the kingdom, that no American privateers should be sutVered to enter them, except from indispensable necessity. ;\s to repair thoir vessels^ to obtain provisions, or to escape tho perils of the sea. Tho Amer. * BcttA, book Ix. BATTLE OF VALMY. 'zrj ican comrniHHionarH at Vaxin, in thoir difjgnst and dospair, had ahnost broken off all n(; princes for the overthrow of the French armies and the reduction of the French capital. Their successors in the French regiments and brigades had as yet acquired neither skill nor experience ; they possessed neither self-reliance, nor the respect of the men who were under them. Such was the state of the wrecks of the old army; but the bulk of the forces with which France began the war consisted of raw insurrectionary levies, which were even less to be depended on. The Carmagnoles, as the revolutionary volunteers were called, flocked, indeed, readily to the frontier from every department Then the war was proclaimed, and the fierce leaders of the Jacobins -\houted that the country was in danger. They were full of zeal ♦Nnd courage, "heated and excited by the scenes of the Revolution, Xnd inflamed by the florid eloquence, the songs, dances, and signal-words with which it had been celebrated."* But they were utterly undisciplined, and turbulently impatient of superior au- thority or systematic control. Many ruffians, also, who were Bullied with participation in the most sanguinary horror.* of Paris, joined the camps, and were pre-eminent alike for misconduct be« * Scott, " UlQ of Napoleoa" vol. i., e. vlli. BATTLE OF VALMY, 271 fore the enemy and for savage insubordination against their own officers. On one occasion during the campaign of Valmy, eight battalions of federates, intoxicated with massacre and sedition joined the forces under Dumouriez, and soon threatened to uproot all discipline, saying openly that the ancient ofl&cers were traitors, and that it was necessary to purge the army, as they had Paris, of its aristocrats. Dumouriez posted these battalions apart from the others, placed a strong force of cavalry behind them, and two pieces of cannon on their flank. Then, affecting to review them, he halted at the head of the line, surrounded by all his staff, and an escort of a hundred hussars. "Fellows," said he, "for I will not call you either citizens or soldiers, you see before you this artillery, behind you this cavalry; you are stained with crimes, and I do not tolerate here assassins or executioners, I know that there are scoundrels among you charged to excite you to crime. Drive them from among you, or denounce them to me, for I shall hold you responsible for their conduct."* One of our recent historians of the Revolution, who narrates this incident,! thus apostrophizes the French general: "Patience, O Dumouriez! this uncertain heap of shriekers, mutineers, were they once drilled and inured, will become a phal- anxed mass of fighters; and wheel and whirl to order swiftly, like the wind or the whirlwind, tanned mustachio-figures, often bare- foot, even barebacked, with sinews of iron, who require only bread and gunpowder; very sons of fire, the adrcitest, hastiest, hottest ever seen, perhaps, since Attila's time." Such phalanxed masses of fighters did the Carmagnoles ulti- mately become; but France ran a fearful risk in being obliged to rely on them, when the process of their transmutation had barely commenced. The first events, indeed, of the war were disastrous and dis- graceful to France, even beyond what might have been expected from the chaotic state in which it found her armies as well as her government. In the hopes of profiting by the unprepared state of Austria, then the mistress of the Netherlands, the French opened the campaign of 1792, by an invasion of Flanders, with forces whose muster-rolls showed a numerical overwhelming su- periority to the enemy, and seemed to promise a speedy conquest of that old battle-field of Europe. But the first flash of an Aus- trian sabre or the first sound of an Austrian gun, was enough to discomfit the French. Their first corps, four thousand strong, that advanced from Lille across the frontier, came suddenly upon a far inferior detachment of the Austrian garrison of Tournay. Not a shot was fired, nor a bayonet leveled. With one simultaneous cry of Panic, the French broke ,'*iid i*an headlong back to Lille, where titey completed the spez-iznen of insubordination which * Lamartine. t Cariyle. 272 DECISIVE BATTLES. they had given in the field by murdering their general and several of their chief officers. On the same day, another division under Biron, mustering ten thousand sabres and bayonets, saw a few Austrian skirmishers reconnoitering their position. The French advanced posts had scarcely given and received a volley, and only a few balls from the enemy's field-pieces had fallen among the lines, when two regiments of French dragoons^ raised the cry '•We are betrayed," galloped ofi", and were followed in disgraceful rout by the rest of the whole army. Similar panics, or repulses almost equally discreditable, occurred whenever Eochambeau, or Luckner, or La Fayette, the earliest French generals in the war, brought their troops into the presence of the enemy. Meanwhile the allied sovereigns had gradually collected on the Rhine a veteran and finely-disciplined army for the invasion of. France, which for numbers, equipment, and martial renown, both of generals and men, was equal to any that Germany had ever sent forth to conquer. Their design was to strike boldly and decisively at the heart of France, and, penetrating the country through the Ardennes, to proceed by Chalons upon Paris. The obstacles that lay in their way seemed insignificant. The disor- der and imbecility of the French armies had been even augmented by the forced :diglit of La Fayette and a sudden change of generals. The only troops posted on or near the track by which the allies were about to advance were the 23,000 men at Sedan, whom La Fayette had commanded, and a corps of 20,000 near Metz, the command of which had just been transferred from Luckner to Kellerman. There were only three fortresses which it was neces* saryfor the allies to capture or mask — Sedan, Longwy, and Verdun. The defenses and stores of all these three were known to be wretchedly dismantled and insufficient; and when once these feeble barriers were overcome and Chalons reached, a fertile and unprotected country seemed to invite the invaders to that "mili- tary promenade to Paris " which they gayly talked of accomplish- ing. At the end of July, the allied army, having fully completed all preparations for the campaign, broke up from its cantonments, and, marching from Luxembourg upon Longwy, crossed the French frontier. Siity thousand Prussians, trained in the schools, and many of them under the eye of the Great Frederic, heirs of the glories of the Seven Years' War, and universally esteemed the best troops in Europe, marched in one column against the central point of attack. Forty-five thousand Austrians, the greater part of whom were picked troops, and had served in the recent Turkish war, supplied two formidable corps that supported the flanks of the Prussians. There was also a powerful body of Hessians ; and leagued with the Germans against the Parisian democracy came 15,000 of the noblest and the bravest among the sons of France. In these corps of emigrants, many of the highest born of the French BATTLE OF VALMT. '273 nobility, scl«ns of houses wliose chivalric trophies had for eentn- ries filled Europe with renown, served as rank and file. They looked on the road to Paris as the path which they were to carve out by their swords to victory, to honor, to the rescue of their king, to reunion with their families, to the recovery of their patri- .mony, and to the restoration of their order.* Over this imposing army the allied sovereigns placed as gener- lilissimo the Duke of Brunswick, one of the minor reigning princes of Germany, a statesman of no mean capacity, and who had acquir- ed in the Seven Years' War a military reputation second only to that of the Great Frederic himself. He had been deputed a few years before to quell the popular movements which then took place in Holland, and he had put down the attempted revolution in that country with a promptitude which appeared to augur equal success to the army that now marched under his orders on a simi- lar Kaission into France. Moving majestically forward, with leisurely deliberation, that seemed to show the consciousness of superior strength, and a steady purpose of doing their work thoroughly, the allies appear- ed before Longwy on the 20th of August, and the dispirited and despondent garrison opened the gates of that fortress to them after the first shower of bombs. On the 2d of September, the still more important stronghold of Verdun capitulated after scarcely the shadow of resistance. Brunswick's superior force was now interposed between Keller* man's troops on the left and the other French army near Sedan, which La Fayette's flight had, for a time, left destitute of a com- mander. It was in the power of the German general, by striking with an overwhelming mass to the right and left, to crush in suc- cession Gach of these weak armies, and the allies might then have marched irresistibly an d unresisted upon Paris. But at this crisis Dumouriez, the new commander-in-chief of the French, arrived at the camp near Sedan, and commenced a series of movements by which he reunited the dispersed and disorganized forces of his country, cheeked the Prussian columns at the very moment when the last obstacle to their triumph seemed to have given way, and finally rolled back thb tide of invasion far across the enemy's frontier. The French fortresses had fallen; but nature herself still offered to brave and vigorous defenders of the land the means of opposing a barrier to the progress of the allies. A ridge of broken ground, called the Argonne, extends from the vicinity of Sedan toward the southwest for about fifteen or sixteen leagues. The country of L' Argonne has now been cleared and drained; but in 1792 it was thickly wooded, and the lower portions of its unequal surface were filled with rivulets and marshes. It thus presented a natural barrier * See Scott, '.' Life of Napoleon," vol. i., c. xU ^74 DECIST}':Bn^ATTLES. of from four or five leagues broad, wliich was absolutely impene* trable to an army, except by a few deliles. such as an interior force iniglit easily fortify and defend. Dumouriez succeeded in marcliing his army from Sedan behind the Argonne, and in occupying its passes, while the Prussians still lingered on the northeastern side of the forest line. Ordering Kellerman to wheel round from Metz to St. Menehould, ixnd the re-enforcements from the interior and ex- treme north also to concentrate at that spot, Dumouriez trusted to as- semble a powerful force in the rear of the southwest extremity of the Argonne, while with the twenty-live thousand men under his immediate command he held the enemy at bay before the passes, or forced him to a long circumvolution round one extremity of the forest ridge during which, favorable opportunities of assailing his flank were almost certain to occur. Dumouriez fortified the prin- cipal defiles, and boasted of the Thermopylae which he had found for the invaders; bnt the simile was nearly rendered fatally com- plete for the defending force. A pass, which was thought of inferior importance, had been but slightly manned, and an Austrian corps, iinder Clairfaj' t, forced it after some sharp fighting. Dumouriez with great difficulty saved himself from being enveloped and des- troyed by the hostile columns that now pushed through the forest. But instead of despairing at the failure of his plans, and tailing back into the interior, to be completely severed from Kellerman's army, to be hunted as a fugitive under the walls of Paris by the victorious Germans, and to lose all chance of ever rallying his dis- pirited troops, he resolved to cling to the difficult country in which the armies still were grouped, to force a junction with Keller- man and so to place himself at the head of a force which the invaders would not dare to disregard, and by which he might drag them back from the advance on Paris, which he had not been able to bar. Accord- ingly, by a rapid movement to the south, during which, in his own words, " France was within a hair's breath of destruction," and after with difficulty checking several panics of his troops, in which they ran by thousands at the sight of a few Prussian hussars, Du- mouriez succeeded in establishing head-quarters in a strong posi- tion at St. Menehould, protected by the marshes and shallows of the rivers Aisne and Aube, beyond which, to the northwest, rose a firm and elevated plateau, called Dampiere's camp, admirably situ- ated for commanding the road by Chalons to Paris, and where he intended to post Kellerman's army so soon as it ctvme up.* The news of the retreat of Dumouriez from th^ Argonne passes, and of the panic flight of some divisions of his troops, spread rap- idly throughout the country, and Kellerman, who believed that his • ?:ome late writers represent that Rruns\vlck did not wish to crush Du- mouriez. Tliere is no sufficient auttioiity for tiiis insinuation, wlucli seems to uavo bt^pu iirst prompted ly a desh'e to soothe the wounded military piide Qt tlio Prusslaiis. BATTLE OF VALMY. 275 comrade's army had been annihilated, and feared to fall among th© victorious musses of the Prussians, had halted on his march from Metz when almost close to St. Menehould. He had actually com- menced a retrogade movement, when couriers from his commander- in-chief checked him from the fatal course: and then continuing to wheel round the rear and left flank of the troops at St. Menehould, Kellerman, with twenty thousand of the army of Metz, and some thousands of volunteers, who had joined him in the march, made his appearance to the west of Dumouriez on the very even- ing when WestQrmaix and Thouvenot, two of the staff officers of Du- mouriez, galloped in with the tidings that Brunswick's army had come through the upper passes of the Argonnein full force and was deploying on the heights of La Lune, a chain of eminences that stretched obliquely from southwest to northeast, opposite the high ground which Dumouriez held, also opposite, but at a shorter dis- tance from the position which Kellerman was designed to occupy. The allies were now, in fact, nearer to Paris than were the French troops themselves ; but, as Dumouriez had foreseen, Brunswick deemed it unsafe to march upon the capital with so large a hostile force left in his rear, between his advancing columns and his base of operations. The young king of Prussia, who was in the allied camp, and the emigrant princes, eagerly advocated an instant attack upon the nearest French general. Kellerman had laid himself unnecessarily open, by advancing beyond Dampierre's camp, which Dumouriez had designed for him, and moving forward across the Aube to the x)lateau of Valmy, a post inferior in strength and space to that which he had left, and which brought him close ujjon the Prussian lines, leaving him separated by a dangerous interval from the troops under Dumouriez himself. It seemed easy for the Prus- sian army to overwhelm him while thus isolated, and then they might surround and crush Dumouriez at their leisure. Accordingly, the right wing of the allied army moved forward in the gray of the morning of the 20th of September, to gain Keller- man's left flank and rear, and cut him off from retreat upon Cha- lons, while the rest of the army, moving from the heights of La Lune, which here converge semicircularly round the plateau of Valmy, were to assail his position in front, and inter^oose between him and Dumouriez. An unexpected collision between some of the advanced cavalry on each side in the low ground warned Kel- lerman of the enemy's approach. Dumouriez had not been unob- servant of the danger of his comrade, thus isolated and involved, and he had ordered up troops to support Kellerman on either flank in the event of his being attacked. These troops, h.owever, moved forward slowly ; and Kellerman's arm ranged on the plateau of Valmy, "projected like a cape into the midst of the lines of Prus- sian bayonets."* A thick autumnal mist floated in waves of vapoy * See Lamartine, Hist. Glrond., livre xvii. I kave drawn much of the en* BUin^ description from, him . . . — 276 DECISIVE BATTLES, over the plains and ravines that lay between the two armies, leav- ing only the crests and peaks of the hills glittering in the early light. About ten o'clock the fog began to clear off, and then the French from their promontory saw emerging from the white wreaths of mist, and glittering in the sunshine, the countless Prussian cav- alry, which were to envelop them as in a net if once driven from their position, the solid columns of the infantry, that moved for ward as if animated by a single will, the bristling batteries of the artillery, and the glancing clouds of the Austrian light troops, fresh from their contests with the Spahis of the east. The best and bravest of the French must have beheld this spec- tacle with secret apprehension and awe. However bold and resolute a man may be in the discharge of duty, it is an anxious and fearful thing to be called on to encounter danger among comrades of whose steadiness you can feel no certainty. Each soldier of Kellerman's drmy must have remembered the series of panic routs which had hitherto invariably taken place on the French side during the war, and must have cast restless glances to the right and left to see if any symptoms of wavering began to show themselves, and to cal- culate how long it was likely to be before a general rush of his comrades to the rear would either hurry him off with involuntary disgrace, or leave him alone and helpless to be cut down by assail- ing multitudes. On that very morning, and at the self-same hour in which the allied forces and the emigrants began to descend from La Lune to the attack of Valmy, and while the cannonade was opening between the Prussian and the Revolutionary batteries, the debate in the National Convention at Paris commenced on the proposal to pro- claim France a republic. The old monarchy had little chance of support in the hall of the Convention ; but if its more effective advocates at Valmy had tri- umphed, there were yet the elements existing in France for an effective revival of the better part of the ancient institutions, and for substituting Reform for Revolution. Only a few weeks before, numerously-signed addresses from the middle classes in Paris, Rouen, and other large cities, had been presented to the king, ex- pressive of their horror of the anarchists, and their readiness to uphold the rights of the crown, together with the liberties of the subject. And an armed resistance to the authority of the Conven- tion, and in favor of the king, was in reality at this time being actively organized in La Vendee and Brittany, the importance of which may be estimated from the formidable opposition which the Royalists of these provinces made to the Republican party at a later period, and under much more disadvantageous circumstances. It is a fact peculiarly illustrative of the importance of the battle of Valmy, that "during the summer of 1792, the gentlemen of Brittany entered into an extensive association for the purpose of rescuing ,the country from the oppressive yoke \srhioh had been imposed bv BATTLE OP VALM'r. 211 the Parisian demagogues. At the liead of the wliole was the Mar- quis de la Kouarie, one of those remarkable men who rise into eminence during the stormy daj'^s of a revolution, from conscious ability to direct its current. Ardent, impetuous and enthusiastic, he was first distinguished in the Anerican war, when the intrepid- ity of his conduct attracted the admiration of the Republican troops, and the same qualities rendered him at first an ardent supporter of the Eevolution in France ; but when the atrocities of the people began, he espoused with equal warmth the opposite side, and used the utmost efforts to rouse the noblesse of Brittany against the plebeian yoke which had been imposed upon them by the National Assembly. He submitted his plan to the Count d'Artois, and had organized one so extensive as would have proved extremely formid- able to the Convention, if the retreat of the Duke of Brunswick, in September, 1792, had not damped the ardor of the whole of the west of France, then ready to break out into insurrection."* And it was not only among the zealots of the old monarchy that the cause of the king would then have found friends. The ineffa- ble atrocities of the September massacres had just occurred, and the reaction produced by them among thousands who had previously been active on the ultra-democratic side was fresh and powerful. The nobility had not yet been made utter aliens in the eyes of the nation by long expatriation and civil war. There was not yet a gen- eration of youth educated in revolutionary principles, and knowing no worship save that of military glory. Louis XVI. was just and humane, and deeply sensible of the necessity of a gradual exten- sion of political rights among all classes of his subjects. The Bourbon throne, if rescued in 1792, would have had the chances of stability such as did not exist for it in 1814, and seem never likely to be found again in France. ' Serving under Kellerman on that day was one who experienced, perhaps the most deeply of all men, the changes for good and for evil which the French Revolution has produced. He who, in his second exile, bore the name of the Count de Neuilly in this coun- try, and who lately was Louis Philippe, king of the French, figured in the French lines at Valmy as a young and gallant officer, cool and sagacious beyond his years, and trusted accordingly by Kel- lerman and Dumouriez with an important station in the national Qxmy. The Due de Chartres (the title he then bore) commanded the French right, General Valence was on the left, and Kellermaa himself took his post in the center, which was the strength and key of his position. Besides these celebrated men who were in the French army, and besides the King of Prussia, the Duke of Brunswick, and other men of rank and power who were in the lines of the allies, there was an individual present at the battle of Valmy, of little political * Alison, vol. iU,, p. 323. S78 DECISIVE BATTLES. note, but who lias exercised, and exerclsss a greater influence over the human mind, and whose fame is more widely spread than that of either duke, or general, or king. This was the German poet Gothe, then in early youth, and who had, out of curiosity, accompanied the allied army on its march into France as a mere spectator. He has given us a curious record of the sensations which he experi- enced during the cannonade. It must be remembered that many thousands in t-he French ranks then, like Gothe, felt the "cannon fever" for the first time. The German poet says,* "I had he.ard so much of the cannon fever, that I wanted to know what kind of a thing it was. Ennui, and a spirit which every kind of danger excites to daring, nay, even to rashness, induced me to ride up coolly to the outwork of La Lune. This was again occupied by our people ; but it presented the wildest aspect. The roofs were shot to pieces, the corn-shocks scattered about, the bodies of men mortally wotmded stretched upon them here and there, anri. occa- sionally a spent cannon ball fell and rtittled among the ruins of the tile roofs. "Quite alone, and left to myself, I rode away on the heights to the left, and could plainly survey the favorable i^osition of the French ; they were standing in the form of a semicircle, in the greatest quiet and security, Kellerman, then on the left wing, be' ing the easiest to reach. " I fell in with good company on the way, ofl&cers of my acquaint^ ance, belonging to the general staff and the regiment, greatly sur- prised to find me here. They wanted to take me back again with them ; but I spoke to them of particular objects I had in view, an^ they left me, without farther dissuasion, to my well-known singu- lar caprice. " I had now arrived quite in the region where the balls w^w plaj'ing across me : the sound of them is curious enough, as if it were composed of the humming of tops, the gurgling of water^ and the whistling of birds. They were less dangerous hj r^abon of the wetness of the ground ; wherever one fell, it stuck fast. And thus my foolish experimental ride was secured against th« danger at least of the balls rebounding. " In the midst of these circumstances, I was soon able to re- mark that something unusual was taking place within me. I paid close attention to it, and still the sensation can be described only by similitude. It appeared as if you were in eome extremely hot place, and, at the same time, quite penetrated by the heat of it, so that you feel j^ourself, as it were, quite one with the element in which you are. The eyes lose nothing of their strength or clear ness ; but it is as if the world had a kind of broAvn-red tint, which makes the situation, as well as the surrounding objects^ more impressive. I was unable to perceive any agitation of the ♦ Gothe's " Campaign in France in 1792," Farle's translation, p. YT, BATTLE OF VALMY. 1^9 blood ; but every thing seemed rather to be swallowed np in the glow of which I speak. From this, then, it is clear in what sense this condition can be called a fever. It is remarkable, however, that the horrible uneasy feeling arising from it is produced in us solely through the ears. For the cannon thunder, the howling and crashing of the balls through the air, is the real cause of these sensations. " After I had ridden back and was in perfect security, I remark- ed, with surprise, that the glow was completely extinguished, and not the slightest feverish agitation was left behind. On the whole, this condition is one of the least desirable ; as, indeed, among my dear and noble comrades, I found scarcely one who expressed a really passionate desire to try it." Contrary to the expectations of both friends and foes, the French infantry held their ground steadily under the fire of the Prussian guns, which thundered on them from La Lune, and their own ar- tillery replied with equal spirit and greater effect on the denser masses of the allied army. Thinking that the Prussians were slackening in their fire, Kellerman formed a column in charging order, and dashed down into the valley in the hopes of capturing some of the nearest guns of the enemy. A masked battery opened its fire on the French column, and drove it back in disorder, Kel- lerman having his horse shot under him, and being with difficulty carried ofif by his men. The Prussian columns now advanced in turn. The French artillery-men began to waver and desert their posts, but were rallied by the efforts and example of their officers, and Kellerman, reorganizing the line of his infantry, took his station in the ranks on foot, and called out to his men to let the enemy come close up, and then to charge them with the bayonet. The troops caught the enthusiasm of their general, and a cheerful shout of Vive la nation, taken ujj by one battalion from another pealed across the valley to the assailants. The Prussians hesitated from a charge up hill against a force that seemed so resolute and formidable ; they halted for a while in the hollow, and then slow- ly retreated up their own side of the valley. Indignant at being thus repulsed by such a foe, the King of Prussia formed the flower of his men in person, and, riding along the column, bitterly reproached them with letting their standard be thus humiliated. Then he led them on again to the attack, marching in the front line, and seeing his staff mowed down around him by the deadly fire which the French artillery reopened. But the troops sent by Dumouriez were now co-operating effectu- ally with Kellerman, and that general's own men, flushed by suc- cess, presented a firmer front than ever. Again the Prussians re- treated, leaving eight hundred dead behind, and at nightfall the French remained victors on the heights of Valmy. All hopes of crushing the Revolutionary armies, and of tha promenade to Paris, had now vanished, though Brunswick lin- 280 DECISI VE BA TTLE8. gered long in the Argonne, till distress and sickness wasted away his once splendid force, and finally but a mere wreck of it rc' crossed the frontier. France, meanwhile, felt that she possessed a giant's strength, and like a giant did she use it. Before the close of that year all Belgium obeyed the National Convention at Paris, and the kings of Europe, after the lapse of eighteen centu- ries, trembled once more before a conquering military republic. Gothe's description of the cannonade has been quoted. His ob- servation to his comrades, and the camp of the allies at the end of the battle, deserves quotation also. It shows that the poet felt (and probably he alone, of the thousands there assembled, felt) the full importance of that day. He describes the consternation and the change of demeanor which he observed among his Prus- sian friends that evening. He tells us that "most of them were silent ; and, in fact, the power of reflection and judgment was wanting to all. At last I was called upon to say what I thought of the engagement, for I had been in the habit of enlivening and amusing the troop with short sayings. This time I said, ' From this place and from this day forth commences a new era in the world's history, and you can all say that you were present at its birth,'" Synopsis op Events between the Battle op Yalmy, a.d. 1792, and THE Battle of Waterloo, a.d. 1815. A.D. 1793. Trial and execution of Louis XVI. at Paris. Eng- land and Spain declare war against France. Eoyalist war in La Vendee. Second invasion of France by the allies. 1794. Lord Howe's victory over the French fleet. Final parti- tion of Poland by Russia, Prussia, and Austria. 1795. The French armies, under Pichegru, conquer Holland. Cessation of the war in La Vendee. 1796. Bonaparte commands the French army of Italy, and gains repeated victories over the Austrians. 1797. Victory of Jervis ofl" Cape St. Vincent. Peace of Campo Formio between France and Austria. Defeat of the Dutch olT Camperdown by Admiral Duncan. 1798. Rebellion in Ireland. Expedition of the French under Bonaparte to Egypt. Lord Nelson destroys the French fleet at the battle of the Nile. 1799. Renewal of the war between Austria and France. The Russian emperor sends an army in aid of Austria under Suwarrow. The French aro repeatedly defeated in Italy. Bonaparte returns from Egypt and makes himself First Consul of France. Massena wins the battle of Zurich. The Russian emperor makes peace mthFrauoe. STN'OPSIS OF EVENTS, ETC 281 1800. Eoi^apayte passes the Alps, and defeats tlie Anstrians at yttbrengo. Moreau wins the battle of Hohenlinden. 1801. Tr^^aty of Luneville between France and Austria. The l)attle of Copenhagen. 1802. Peace of Amiens. 1803. War between England and France renewed. .1804. Napoleon Bonaparte is made Emperor of France. 1805. Great preparations of Napoleon to invade England. Aus- tria, supported by Russia, renews war with France. Napoleon marches into Germany, takes Vienna, and gains the battle of Austerlitz. Lord Nelson destroys the combined French and S^jan- ish fleets, and is killed at the battle of Trafalgar. 180G. War between Prussia and France. Napoleon conquers Prussia at the battle of Jena. 1807. Obstinate warfare between the French and Prussian arm- ies in East Prussia and Poland. Peace of Tilsit. 1808. Napoleon endeavors to make his brother King of Spain. Rising of the Spanish nation against him. England sends troops to aid the Spaniards. Battle of Vimiera and Corunna. 1809. War renewed between France and Austria. Battles of Asperne and Wagram. Peace granted to Austria. Lord Wel- lington's victory of Talavera, in Spain. 1810. Marriage of Napoleon and the Archduchess Maria Louisa. Holland annexed to France. 1812. War between England and the United States. Napoleon invades Russia. Battle of Borodino. The French occupy Mos- cow, which is burned. Disastrous retreat and almost total de- struction of the great army of France. 1813. Prussia and Austria take up arms again against France. Battles of Lutzen, Bautzen, Dresden, Culm, and Leipsic. The French are driven out of Germany, Lord Wellington gains the great battle of Vittoria, which completes the rescue of Spain from France. 1814. The allies invade France on the eastern, and Lord Wel- lington invades it on the southern frontier. Battles of Laon, Montmirail, Arcis-sur Aube, and others in the northeast of France; and of Toulouse in the south. Paris surrenders to the allies, and Napoleon abdicates. First restoration of the Bourbons. Napo- leon goes to the Isle of Elba, which is assigned to --him by the al- lies. Treaty of Ghent between the United States and England, 282 DECISIVE BATTLM8. CHAPTER XV. BATTLE OF WATERLOO, A.D. 1815. Tliou first and last of fields, king-making victory I— Btbon. England has now been blessed with thirty-six years of peace. At no other period of her history can a similarly long cessation from a state of warfare be found. It is true that our troops have had battles to fight during this interval for the protection and ex- tension of our Indian possessions and o\ir colonies, butthes* have been with distant and unimportant enemies. The danger has never been brought near our own shores, and no matter of vital importance to our empire has ever been at stake. We have not had hostilities with either France, America, or Russia ; and when not at war with any of our peers, we feel ourselves to be substan- tially at peace. There has, indeed, throughout this long period, been no great war, like those with which the previous history of modern Europe abounds. There have been formidable collisions between particular states, and there have been still more formid- able collisions between the armed champions ot" the conliieting principles of absohitism and democracy ; but there has been no general war, like those of the French Revolution, like the Ameri- can, or the Seven Years' War, or like the war of the Spanish Suc- cession. It would be far too much to augur from this that no sim- ilar wars will again convulse the world; but the value of the period of peace which Europe has gained is incalculable, even if we look on it as only a long truce, and expect again to see the nations of the earth recur to what some philosophers have termed man's nat- ural state of warfare. No equal number of years can be found during which science, commerce, and civilization have advanced so rapidly and so ex- tensively as has been the case since 1815. When we trace their progress, especially in this country, it is impossible not to feel that their wondroiis development has been mainly due to the land having been at peace. * Their good effects cannot be obliteiated even if a series of wars were to recommence. When we reflect on this, and contrast these thirty-six years with the period that preceded them — a period of violence, of tumult, of unrestingly destructive energy— a period throughout which the wealth of na- tions was scattered like sand, and the blood of nations lavished like water, it is impossible not to look with deep interest on the final crisis of that dark and dreadful epoch — the crisis out of which our own happier cycle of years has been evolved. The * See the excellent IntroducUon to Mr. Charles Knight's History of "Thirty Tears' l*eace." BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 283 great battle whicli ended the twenty-three years' war of the first French Kevolution, and which quelled the man whose genius and ambition had so long disturbed and desolated the world, deserves to be regarded by us not only with peculiar pride as one of our greatest national victories, but with peculiar gratitude for the re- pose which it secured for us and for the greater part of the human race. One good test for determining the importance of Waterloo is to ascertain what was felt by wise and prudent statesmen before that battle respecting the return of Napoleon from Elba to the imperial throne of France, and the probable effects of his success. For this purpose, I will quote the words, not of any of our vehement anti-Gailican politicians of the school of Pitt, but of a leader of our Liberal party, of a man whose reputation as a jurist, a histo- rian, and a far-sighted and candid statesman was, and is, deserv- edly high, not only in this country, but throughout Europe. Sir James Mackintosh said of the return from Elba, " Was it in the power of language to describe the evil? Wars which had raged for more than twenty years throughout Europe, which had spread blood and desolation from Cadiz to Moscow, and from Naples to Copenhagen ; which had wasted the means of human enjoyment, and destroyed the instruments of social im- provement ; which threatened to diffuse among the European na- tions the dissolute and ferocious habits of a predatory soldiery — at length, by one of those vicissitudes which bid defiance to the foresight of man, had been brought to a close, upon the whole, happy, beyond all reasonable expectation, with no violent shock to national independence, with some tolerable compromise be- tween the opinions of the age and the reverence due to ancient institutions ; with no too signal or mortifying triumph over the legitimate interests or avowable feelings of any numerous body of men, and, above all, without those retaliations against nations or parties which beget new convulsions, often as horrible as those which they close, and perpetuate revenge, and hatred, and blood from age to age. Europe seemed to breathe after her sufferings. In the midst of this fair prospect and of these consolatory hopes. Napoleon Bonaparte escaped from Elba ; three small ^ vessels reached the coast of Provence ; their hopes are instantly dispelled; the work of our toil and fortitude is undone ; the blood of Europe is spilled in vain — * Ihi omnis efCusus labor ! ' " The exertions which the allied powers made at this crisis to grapple promptly with the French emperor have truly been termed gigantic, and never were Napoleon's genius and activity- more signally displayed than in the celerity and skill by which he brought forward all the military resources of France, which the reverses of the three precediRg yxiars, aad the pacific poJicy ol 284 DECISIVE BATTLES. the Eonrbons during the months of their first restoration, had greatly diminished and disorganized. He re-entered Paris on the 20th of March, and by the end of May, besides sending a force into La Vendee to put down the armed risings of the Koyalists in that province, and besides providing troops under Massena and Suchet for the defense of tlie southern frontiers of France, Na- poleon had an army assembled in the northeast for active opera- tions under his own command, which amounted to between 120 and 130,000 men,* wdth a superb, park of artillery, and in the highest possible state of equipment, discipline, and efficienc3\ The approach of the many Russians, Austrians, Bavarians, and other foes of the French emperor to the Khine was necessarily slow ; but the two most active of the allied powers had occupied Belgiuu^ with their troops while Napoleon was organizing his forces. Marshal Blucher was there with 116,000 Prussians, and the Duke of Wellington was there also with about 106,000 troops, either British or in British pay. f Napoleon determined to attack these enemies in Belgium. The disparity of numbers was indeed great, but delay was sure to increase the number of his enemi-es much faster than re-enforcements could join his own ranks. He considered also that "the enemy's troops were cantoned under the command of two generals, and composed of nations differing both in interest and in feelings."! His own army was iinder his own sole command. It was composed exclusively of French sol- diers, mostly of veterans, well acquainted with their oflficers and with each other, and full of enthusiastic confidence in their com-, mander. If he could separate the Prussians from the British, so as to attack each in detail, he felt sanguine of success, not only against these, the most resolute of his many adversaries, but also against the other masses that were slowly laboring up against his southeastern frontiers. The triple chain of strong fortresses w^hich the French possessed on the Belgian frontier formed a curtain, behind which Napoleon was able to concentrate his army, and to conceal till the very last moment the precise line of attack which he intended to take. On the other hand, Blucher and Wellington were obliged to canton their troops along a line of open country of considerable length, so as to watch for the outbreak of Napoleon from whichever point of his chain of strongholds he should please to make it. Blucher, with his army, occupied the banks of the Sambre and the Meuse, from Liege on his left, to Charleroi on his right ; and the Duke of Wellington covered Brussels, his cantonments being partly in front of that city, and between it and the French frontier, and partly on its west ; their extreme right being at Courtray and * See, tor these numbers, Siborne's " History of tlie Campaign of Water* loo," vol 1., p. 41. t Ibid., vol. i., cUap, lit i Montliolon's " Memoirs," p. -16, BAITLE OF WATERLOO, 285 ToTirnay, wjiile their left approached Charleroi and communicated with the Prussian right. It was upon Charleroi that Napoleon resolved to level his attack, in hopes of severing the two allied armies from each other, and then pursuing his favorite tactic of assailing each separately with a superior force on the battle-field, though the aggregate of their numbers considerably exceeded his own. On the l.'Jth of June the Trench army was suddenly in motion, and crossed the frontier in three columns, which were pointed upon Charleroi and its vicinity. The French line of advance upon Brussels, which city Napoleon resolved to occupy, thus lay right through the center of the line of the cantonments of the allies. The Prussian general rapidly concentrated his forces, call- ing them in from the left, and the English general concentrated his, calling them in from the right toward the menaced center of the combined position. On the morning of the 16th, Blucher was in position at Ligny, to the northeast of Charleroi, with 80,000 men. Wellington's troops were concentrating at Quatre Bras, which lies due north of Charleroi, and is about nine miles from Lign3^ On the 16th, Napoleon in person attacked Blucher, and, after a long and obstinate battle, defeated him, and compelled the Prussian army to retire northward toward Wavre. On the same day, Marshal Ney, with a large part of the French army, attacked the English troops at Quatre Bras, and a very severe engagement took place, in which Ney failed in defeating the British, but succeeded in ]ireventing their sending any help to Blucher, who w^as being beaten by the emperor at Ligny. On the news of Blucher's defeat at Ligny reaching Wellington, he foresaw that the emperor's army would now be directed upon him, and he accordingly retreated in order to restore his communications with his ally, which would have been dislocated by the Prussians falling back from Ligny to Wavre if the English had remained in advance at Quatre Bras. During the 17th, therefore, Wellington retreated, being pursued, but little molested by the main French army, over about half the space between Quatre Bras and Brussels. This brought him again parallel, on a line running from west to east, with Blucher, who was at Wavre. Having ascertained that the Prussian army, though beaten on the 16th, was not broken, and having received a promise from its general to march to his assistance, Wellington" determined to halt, and to give battle to the French emperor in the position, which, from a village in its neighborhood, has received ths ever- memorable name of the field of Watekix)o. Sir Walter Scott, in his "Life of Napoleon," remarks of Water- loo that "the scene of this celebrated action must be familiar to most readers either from description or recollection." The nar- ratives of Sir Walter himself, of Alison, Gleig, Siborne, and others, must have made the events of the iDattle almost equally well known. I might perhaps, content myself with referring to their 286 DECISIVE BATTLES, pages, and avoid the difficult task of dealing with a suh^ jjt •w'H»ch has already been discussed so copiously, so clearly, ajid so elo- quently by others. In particular, the description by Captair Siborne of the Waterloo campaign is so full and so minute, so scrupulously accurate, and, at the same time, so spirited anO graphic that it will long clef}' the competition of far abler peL.s than mine. I shall only aim at giving a general idea of the main features of this great event, of this discrowning and crowning victory. When, after a very hard-fought and a long-doubtful day, Napo leon had succeeded in driving back the Prussian army from Ligny, and had resolved on marching himself to assail the English, ho sent, on the 17th, Marshal Grouchy with 30,000 men to pursue the defeated Prussians, and to prevent their marching to aid the Duk^i of Wellington. Great recriminations passed afterward between the marshal and the emperor as to how this duty was attempted to be performed, and the reasons why Grouchy failed on the 18th to arrest the lateral movement of the Prussian troops from Wavre toward Waterloo. It may be sufficient to remark here that Grouchy was not sent in pursuit of Bhicher till late on the 17th, and that the iorce given to nim was insufficient to make head against thv) whole Prussian army ; for Blucher's men, though they were beaten back, and suiicrod severe loss at Ligny, were neither routed nor disheartened ; and they W'ere joined at Wavre by a large division of their comrades under General Bulow, who had taken no part in the battle of the 16th, and who were fresh for the march to Waterloo against the French on the 18th. But the failure of Grouchy was in truth mainly owing to the indomitable heroism of Blucher him- self, who, though severely injured in the battle at Ligny, was as energetic and active as ever in bringing his men into action again, and who had the resolution to expose a part of his army, under Thielman, to be overwhelmed by Grouchy at Wavre on the 18th, while he urged the march of the mass of his troops upon Waterloo. •'It is not at Wavre, but at Waterloo," said the old held -marshal, "that the campaign is to be decided;" and he risked a detach- ment, and won the campaign accordingly. Wellington and Blucher trusted each other as cordiall}^ and co-operated as zealously, as formerly had been the case with Marlborough and Eugene. It was in full reliance on Blucher's promise to join him that the duke stood his ground and fought at Waterloo ; and those who have ventured to impugn the duke's capacity as a general ought to have had common sense enough to perceive that to charge the duke with having won the battle of Waterloo by the help of the Prussians is reallj" to say that he won it by the very means on which he re- lied, and without the expectation of which the battle would not have been fought Napoleon himself has found fault with Wellington* for not having * bee Montiiolon's ' ' Memoirs," voL iv. p. 44. BATTLE OF WATEBLOO. 287 retreated beyond Waterloo, The short answer may be, that the duke had reason to expect that his army could singly resist the French at Waterloo until the Prussians came up, and that, on the Prussians Joining, there would be a sufficient force, united under himself and Blucher, for completely overwhelming the enemv. And whilo Napoleon thus censures his great adversary, he invol- untarily bears the highest possible testimony to the military char- acter of the English, and proves decisively of what paramount importance was the battle to which he challenged his fearlesa opponent. Napoleon asks, ''If the English army had been heaien ai Waterloo, what would have been the use of those numerous bodies oj troops, of Prussians, Austrians, Germans, and Spaniards, which wen advancing by forced marches to iheBhine, the Alps, andthe Pyrenees ?'"* The strength of the army under the Duke of Wellington at Water- loo was 49,608 infantry, 12,402 cavalry, and 5,645 artillerymen, with 156guns.t But of this total of 67,655 men, scarcely 24,000 were British, a circumstance of very serious importance if Napoleon's own estimate of the relative value of troops of different nations is to be taken. In the emperor's own words, speaking of this cam- paign, "A French soldier would not be equal to more than one English soldier, but he would not be afraid to meet two Dutchmen, Prussians, or soldiers of the Confederation. "J There were about 6,000 men of the old German Legion with the duke: these were veteran troops, and of excellent quality. But the rest of the army was mr:,de up of Hanoverians, Brunswickers, Nassauers, Dutch, and Belgians, many of whom were tried soldiers, and fought well, but many had been lately levied, and not a few were justly sus- pected of a strong wish to fight under the French eagles rather than against them. Napoleon's army at Waterloo consisted of 48,950 infantry, 15,765 cavalry, 7,232 artillerymen, being a total of 71,947 men and 246 guns.§ They were the elite of the national forces of France ; and of all the numerous gallant armies which that martial land has poured forth, never was there one braver, or better disciplined, or better led, than the host that took up its position at Waterloo on the morning of the 18th of June, 1815. Perhaps those who have not seen the field of battle at Waterloo, or the admirable model of the ground and of the conflicting armies which was executed by Captain Siborne, may gain a generally accurate idea of the localities by picturing to themselves a valley between two and three miles long, of various breadths at different points, but generally not exceeding half a mile. On each side of the valley there is a winding chain of low hills, running somewhat parallel with each other. The declivity from each of these ranges of hills to i^ intervening valley is gentle but not uniform, the * Montholon's "Memoirs,'' vol. iv., p. 44. t Silrorne, vol. i., p. .376 t Moiittxolon'3 " Memoirs," vol. iv., p. 41. § See Siborne, ut ffupra* t 288 DECISIVE BATTLES. nndulations of the ground being frequent and considerable. The English army was posted on the northern, and the French army occupi'^d f^^he southern ridge. The artillery of each side thundered at the other from their respective heights throughout the day, and the charge: o. horse and foo^ were made across the valley that has been described. The village of Mont St. Jean is situate a little behind the center of the northern chain of hills, and the village of La Belle Alliance is close behind the center of the southern ridge. The high road from Charlerio to Brussels runs through both these villages, and bisects, therefore, both the English and the French positions. The line of this road was the line of Napoleon's in- tended advance on Brussels. There are some other local particulars connected with the situa- tion of each army which it is necessary to bear in mind. The strength of the British position did not consist merely in the occu- pation of a ridge of high ground. A village and ravine, called M.£j±JBraine, on the Duke of Wellington's extreme right, secured him from his flank being turned on that side ; and on his extreme left, two little hamlets, called LaJHajj^ and^ jPapiUote, gave a simi- lar though a slighter protection. It was, however, less necessary to provide for this extremity of the position, as it was on this (the eastern) side that the Prussians were coming up. Behind the whole British position is the great and extensive forest of Soignies. As no attempt was made by the French to turn either of the English flanks, and the battle was a day of straightforward fight- ing, it iz chiefly important to see what posts there were in front of the British line of hills of which advantage could be taken either to repel or facilitate an attack ; and it'will be seen that there were two, and lliat each was of very great importance in the action. In front of the British right, that is to say, on the northern slope of the valley toward its western end, there stood an old-fashioned Flemish farm-house called Goumont or Hougoumont^ with out- buildings and a garden, and with a copse of beech trees of about two acres in extent round it. This was strongly garrisoned by the allied troops ; and while it was in their possession, it was difficult for the enemy to press on and force the British right wing. On the other hand, if the enemy could occupy it, it would be difi&cult for that wing to keep its ground on the heights, with a strong post held adversely in its immediate front, being one that would give much shelter to the enemy's marksmen, and great facilities for the sudden concentration of attacking columns. Almost immediately in front of the British center, and not so far down the slope as Hougonmont, there was another farm-house, of a smaller size, called T iaJay&_SaJ-Il|;f.. * which was also held by the British troops, * Not to he confounded veittL tlie liamlet of La Have, at the extreme left •f Oie British line. BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 289 and the occupation of which was found to be of very serious con sequence. With reject to the French position, the principal feature to be noticed is the village of Planchenoit, which lay a little in the rear of their right {i.e., on the eastern side), and which proved to be of great importance in aiding them to check the advance of the Prus- sians. As has been already mentioned, the Prussians, on the morning of the 18th, were at Wavre, about twelve miles to the east of the field of battle at Waterloo. The junction of Bulow's division had more than made up for the loss sustained at Ligny ; and leaving Thielman, with about 17,000 men, to hold his ground as he best could against the attack which Grouchy was about to make on Wavre, Bulow and Blucher moved with the rest of the Prussians upon Waterloo. It was calculated that they would be there bj three o'clock ; but the extremely difficult nature of the ground which they had to traverse, rendered worse by the torrents of rain that had just fallen, delayed them long on their twelve miles' march. The night of the 17th was wet and stormy ; and when the dawn of the memorable 18th of June broke, the rain was still descending heavily. The French and British armies rose from their dreary bivouacs and began to form, each on the high ground which it occupied. Toward nine the weather grew clearer, and each army was able to watch the postion and arrangements of the other on the opposite side of the valley. The Duke of Wellington drew up his infantry in two lines, the second line being composed principally of Dutch and Belgian troops, whose fidelity was doubtful, and of those regiments of other nations which had suffered most severely at Quatre Bras on the 16th. This second line was posted on the northern declivity of the hills, so as to be sheltered from the French cannonade. The cavalry was stationed at intervals along the line in the rear, the largest force of horse being collected on the left of the center, to the east of the Charleroi road. On the opposite heights the French army was drawn up in two general lines, with the entire force of the Imperial Guards, cavalry as well as infantry, in rear of the center, as a reserve. English military critics have highly eulogized the admirable arrangement which Napoleon made of his forces of each arm, so as to give him the most ample means of sustaining, by an immediate and sufficient support, any attack, from whatever point he might direct it, and of drawing promptly together a strong force, to resist any attack that might be made on himself in any part of the field. * When his troops were all arrayed, he rode along the lines, receiving every where the most enthusiastic cheers from his men, of whose entire devotion to him his assurance was * Sibome, vol. 1., p. 376. 200 DKCTSTVE JiATTLES. now iloably snro. On tho soiithoru side of tho viilloy the dnke'a army wtis aUso aimyoil. aiul romiy to meet tho luouaoed jittaok. •' Tho two armit>s woro now fairly in prosonco of onch otlvor, and thoir mutual obsorvativui was govornod by tho most intonso inter- est and tho most so rut iri/.iiii:; anxiety. In a still greater degree did those feelings aotuaro thoir oommanders, while watohing each other's preparatory movements, and minutely souuning tho surface of the arena on which taotunl skill, habitual prowess, physical strength, and moral courage were to dooiile, not alone their own, but, in all probability, tho fate of Eurojio. Apart from national interosts anvl considerations, and viewed solely in connection with the opposite chanictors of tho two illustrious chiefs, tho approach- ing contest was contemplated with anxious solicitude by the whole military world. Need this create surprise when we retioct that the struggle was one for mastery between the far-famed conqueror of Italy and the victorious liberator of the Peninsula ; between the triumphiuit viuiipiishor of Eastern Europe, and tho bold and suo- cessful invader of tho south of Fnuice ! Fever was the issue of a single battle looked forward to as involving consequonoos of such vast importance, of such nnivoi-sal intluonco."* It was approaching noon before tho action commenced. Napo- leon, in Ids memoirs, gives as the reason for this delay, tho miry state of tho ground through tho heavy rains of tho preceding night and day, which rendered it impossible for cavalry or artillery to maneuver on it till a few hours of dry weather had given it iti natural consistency. It has boon supposed, also, that he trusted to tho eliect which the sight of the imposing array of his own forces was likely to produce on tho part of thenlliod army. The Belgian regiments had been tampered with ; iiiid Napoleoi^ had well found- ed hopes of seeing them quit tho Puke of Wellington in a body, and rjuige themselves under his own eagles. Tho du!v-'\ however, who know and did not trust them, had guarded aijjainst tho rislj of this by breaking np tho corps of Belgians, and distri\)utinj> theiS in separate regiments among troops on whom he could rely. ,• At last, at about half past eleven o'clock, Kapoleon begixn the battle by directing a powerful force from his left wing under his brother, Prince .lorome, to attack llougoumont. Column after column of tho French now descended from tho west of tho south- ern heights, and assailed that post with fiery \alor, which was encountered witli tho most determined bravery. Tho French won tho copse round tho house, but a party of the Jiritish Guiu-ds held tho house itself throughout tho day. Amid shell and shot, and the blazing fragments of part of tho buildings, this obstinate contest was continued. But still the English held Hougoumonts though the French occasionally moved forward in such numbei's as enabled them to surround and mask this post with part of their txoops from ♦ SlboTB*. TOL i., p. in, t Ibid, p. STS. BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 231 thoir loft wing, while others pressed onward up the slope, and as- sailed the Jiritish right. The cannonade, which commenced at first between the British right and the French left, in consequence of the attack on Hou- goumont, soon became general along both lines ; and about one o'clock Napoleon directed a grand attack to be made under Marshal Ney upon the center and left wing of the allied army. For this purpose lV>ur columns of infantry, amounting to about 18,000 men, were collected, sujjported by a strong division of cavalry under the celebrated Kellerman, and seventy-four guns were brought forward ready to bo posted on the right of a little undulation of the ground in the interval between the two main ranges of heights, so as to bring their fire to bear on the duke's line at a range of about seven hundred yards. Uy the combined Ussault of these formidable forces, led on by Ney, "the bravest of the brave," Napoleon hoped to force the lelt center of the British position, to take La Haye tSainte, and then, x>ressing forward, to occupy also the farm of Mont St. J imn . He then could cut the mass of Wellington's troops off" from their line of retreat upon Brussels, and from their own left, and also completely sever them from any Prussian troojjs that might be approaching. The columns destined for this great and decisive operation de- scended majestically from the French range of hills, and gained the ridge of the intervening eminence, on which the batteries that sui)|)orted them were now ranged. As the columns descended again from the eminence, the seventy -four guns opened over their heads with terrible effect upon the troops of the allies that were stationed on the heights to the left of the Charleroi road. One of the French columns kept to the east, and attacked the extreme left of the allies; the other three continued to move rapidly forward ujjon the left center of the allied position. The front line of the allies here was composed of Blyant's brigade of Dutch and Belgi- ans. As the French columns moved up the southward slope of the height on which the Dutch and Belgians stood, and the skirmishers in advance l^egan to open their fire, Blyant's entire brigade turned and fled in disgraceful and disorderly panic; but there were men more worthy oi the name behind. The second line of allies here consisted of two brigades of Engs lish infantry, which had suffered severely at Quatre Bras. But they were under Pincton, and not even Ney himself surpassed in reso- lute bravery that stern and fiery spirit, Pincton brought his two brigades forward, side by side, in a thin two-deep line. Thus joined together, they were not 3,000 strong. With these Pincton had to make head against the three victorious French columns, ujiwards of four times that strength, and who, encouraged by the easy route of the Dutch and Belgians, now came confidently over the ridge of the hill. The British infantry stood firm ; and as the French halted and began to deploy into linej Pincton ^eize^ 202 DECISIVE BATTLES. the critical moment; a oloso and deadly volley was thrown in upon them, and then with a lioroe hiinah the British dashed in with tLio bayonet. The French re> led back in contusion; and as they stag- gered down the hill, a brigaile of the English cavalry rodo in on them, cutting them down by whide battalions, jmd taking 2.000 pris- oners. The JU-itish cavalry gallojuHl forward and sabred tho , artillery-men of Ney's seventy-four advanced guns ; and then cut- ting the traces and the throats of the horses, rendering these guns totally useless to the French thnn;ghout the remainder of tho day. In tho excitement of success, the English cavalry continued to press on, but were charged in their turn, and driven back with severe loss bv ^lilhaud'a cuirassiers. This great att^ick (in repelling which the brave Picton had fallen) had now^ completely failed ; antl, at the same time, a powerful body of French cuirassiers, who were advancing along the right of tho Oharleroi road, and had been fairly beaten after a idose hand-to- hand tight by tho heavy cavalry of the English household brigade, llougoumont was still being assailed, and was successfully resist- ing. Troops were now beginning to appear at the edge of the horison on Napoleon's right, which ho too well knew to be Prussian, though he endeavored to pursuado his followers that they were Grouchy 's men coming to aid them. It was now about half past three o'clock ; and though Wellington's army had suffered severely by tho unremitting cannonade and in the late desperate encoun- ter, no part of the British position had been forced. Napoleon next determined to try what effect he could produce on the British center and right by charges of his splendid cavalry, brought on in such force that the duke's cavalry could not check them. Fresh troops were at the same time sent to assail La Haye Saints and Hougoiuuont, the possejssion of these posts being the emperor's unceasing object. Squadron after squadron of tho French cuiras- siers accordingly ascended the slopes on the diike's rights and rode forward with dauntless courage against the batteries of the British artillery on that part of the held. The artillery-men were driven from their guns, and the cuirassiers cheered loudly at their sup- posed triumph. But the diike had formed his infantry in squares, and tho cuirassiers charged in vain against the impenetrable hedges of boyonets, while the lire fi'om tho inner ranks of the squares told with terrible effect on their own squadrons. Time after time they rode forward with invariably the same result ; and as they ▼eceded from each attack, the British artillery-men rushed forward rom the center of the squares, where they had taken refuge, and plied their guns on the retiring horsemen. Nearly the whole of Napoleon's magnificent body of heavy cavalry was destroyed in these friiitless attempts upon the l^ritish right. But in another part of the field fortune favored him for a time. Donzelot's in- fantry took La Haye Sainte between six and seven o'clock, and the BATTLE OP WATJ/nniOO. 293 means were now given for organizing another formidable attack on tiie center of the allies. There wan no time to be lost: Blucber and Bulow were begin- ning to press upon the French right; as early as five o'clock. Napoleon had been obliged to detach LoVjau's infantry and Do- mont's horse to check these new enemies. This was done for a time; but, as large numbers of the Prussians came on the field,' they turned Lobau's left, and sent a strong force to seize the vil- lage of Planchenoit, which, it will be remembered, lay in the rear of the French right. Napoleon was now obliged to send his Young Guard to occupy that village, which was accordingly held by them with great gallantry against the reiterated assaults of the Prussian left under Bulow. But the force remaining under Napo- leon was now numerically inferior to that under the Duke of Wellington, which he had been assailing throughout the day, without gaining any other advantage than the capture of La Haye Samte. It is true that, owing to the gross misconduct oi' the greater part of the Dutch and Belgian troojjs, the duke was obliged to rely exclusively on his English and German soldiers, and the ranks of these had been fearfully thinned ; but the survivors stood their ground heroically, and still opposed a resolute front to every forward movement of their enemies. Napoleon had then the means of efiecting a retreat. His Old Guard had yet taken no part in the action. Under cover of it, he might have withdrawn his shattered forces and retired upon the French frontier. But this would only have given the English and Prussians the oppor- tunity of completing their junction; and he knew that other armies were fast coming up to aid them in a march upon Paris, if he should succeed in avoiding an encounter with them, and retreat- ing upon the capital. A victory at Waterloo was his only alterna- tive from utter ruin, and he determined to employ his guard in one bold stroke more to make that victory his own. Between seven and eight o'clock the infantry of the Old Guard was formed into two columns, on the declivity near La Belle Alliance. Nej" was placed at their head. Napoleon himself rode forward to a spot by which his veterans were to pass ; and as they approached he raised his arm, and pointed to the position of the allies, as if to tell them that their path lay there. Th,ey answered with loud cries of " Vive I'Empereur ! " and descended the hill from their own side into that " valley of the shadow of death,* while their batteries thundered with redoubled vigor over their heads upon the British line. The line of march of the columns of the Guard was directed between Hougoumont and La Haye Sainte, against the British right center; and at the same time, Donzelot and the French, who had possession of La Haye Sainte, commenced a fierce attack upon the British center, a little more to its left. This part of the battle has drawn less attention than the celebrated attack of tue Old Guard; but it formed the most S94 DPxmvt: BATTLES. perilous crisis for the nllied army; and if the Yoiinp; Guard had been there to support Donzelot, instead of being engaged with the Prussians at Phiuchenoit, the consequences to the allies in that part of the field must have been most serious. The French tirail- leurs, who were posted in clouds in La Haye Sainte, and the shel- tered spots near it, completely disabled the artillery-men of the English batteries near them; and, taking advantage of the crippled state of the English guns, the French brought somelield-pieces up to La Haye Sainte. and commenced tiring grape from them on the infantry of the allies, at a distance of not more than a hundred paces. The allied infantry here consisted of some German bri- gades, who were formeci m squares, at it was believed that Don- zelot had cavalry ready oehind La Haye Sainte to charge them with, if they left that order of formation. In this state the Ger- mans remainod for some time with heroic fortitude, though the grape-shot was tearing gaps in their ranks, and the side of one square was literally blown away by one tremendous volley which the French gunners poured into it. The Prince of Orange in vain endeavored to lead some Nassau troops to their aid. The Nassauers would not or could not face the French; and some battalions of Bninswickers, whom the Duke of Wellington had or- dered up as a re-enforcement, at first fell back, until the duke in person rallied them and led them on. The duke then galloped off to the right to head his men who were exposed to the attack of the Imperial Guard. He had saved one part of his center from being routed; but the French had gained ground here, and the pressure on the allied line was severe, until it was relieved by the decisive success which the British in the right center achievtnl over the columns of the Guard. The British troops on the crest of that part of the position, which the first column of Napoleon's Guards assaiied, w^ere Mait- land's brigade of British Guards, having Adam's brigade on their right. Maitland's men were lying down, in order to avoid, as far as possible, the destructive effect of the French artillery, which kept up an unremitting fire from the opposite heights, until the first column of the Imperial Guard had advanced so far up tiie slope toward the British position that any farther firing of the French artillery-men would endanger their own comrades. Mean- while, the British guns were not idle; but shot and shell ploweil fast through the ranks of the stately array of veterans that still moved imposingly on. Several of the French superior oflicers were at its head. Ney's horse was shot under him, but he still led the w'ay on foot, sword in hand. The front of the massy column now was on the ridge of the hill. To their surprise, they saw no troops before them. All they coiild discern through the smoke was a small band of mounteil ofticei's. One of them was the duke himself. The French advanced to about fifty yards from where the British Guards were lying down, when the voice BATTLE OF WATMiLOO. 2% of one of the band of British officers was heard calling, as if to the ground before him, " Up, Guards, and at them ! " It was the duke who gave the order; and at tlie words, as if by magic, up started before them a line of tlie British Guards four deep, and in the most compact and perfect order. They poured an instantaneous volley upon the head of the French column, by which no less than three hundred of those chosen veterans are said to have fallen. The French officers rushed forward, and, conspicuous in front of their men, attempted to deploy them into a more extended line, so as to enable them to reply with effect to the British fire. But Maitland's brigade kept showering in volley after volley with deadly rapidity. The decimated column grew disordered in its vain efforts to expand itself into more efficient formation. The right word was given at the right moment to the British for the bayonet-charge, and the brigade sprang forward with a loud cheer against their dismayed antagonists. In an instant the compact mass of the French spread out in a rabble, and they fled back down the hill pursued by Maitland's men, who, however, returned to their position in time to take part in the repulse of the second column of the Imperial Guard. This column also advanced with great spirit and firmness un- der the cannonade which was opened on it, and passing by the eastern wall of Hougoumont, diverged slightly to the right as it moved up the slope toward the British position, so as to approach the same spot where the first column had surmounted the height and been defeated. This enabled the British regiments of Adam's brigade to form a line parallel to the left flank of the French column, so that while the front of this column of French Guards had to encounter the cannonade of the British batteries, and the musketry of Maitland's Guards, its left flank was assailed with a destructive fire by a four-deep body of British infantry, extending all along it. In such a position, all the bravery and skill of the French veterans were vain. The second column, like its predecessor, broke and fled, taking at first a lateral direc- tion along the front of the British line toward the rear of La Haye Sainte, and so becoming blended with the divisions of French infantry, which, under Donzelot, had been pressing the allies so severely in that quarter. The sight of the Old Guard broken and in flight checked the ardor which Donzelot's troops had hitherto displayed. They, too, began to waver. Adam's victorious brigade was pressing after the flying Guard, and now cleared away the assailants of the allied center. But the battle was not yet won. Napoleon had still some battalions in reserve near La Belle Alliance. He was rapidly rallying the remains of the first column of his Guards, and he had collected into one body the remnants of the various corps of cavalry, which had suffered eo severely in the earlier part of the day. The duke instantly formed the bold resolution of now himself becoming the assailant 29(5 decisive! BATTtm and leading hiS succGssful though enfeebled array forward, while the disheartening efifeet of the repulse of the Imperial Guard on the French army was still strong, and before Napoleon and Ney could rally the beaten veterans themselves for another and a fiercer charge. As the close approach of the Prussians now com- Eletely protected the duke's left, he had drawn some reserves of orse from that quarter, and he had a brigade of Hussars under Vivian fresh and ready at hand. Without a moment's hesitation he launched these against the cavalry near La Belle Alliance. The charge was as successful as it was daring; and there was now no hostile cavalry to check the British infantry in a forward movement, the duke gave the long wished-for command for a general advance of the army along the whole line upon the foe. It was now past eight o'clock, and for nine deadly hours had the British and Ger- man regiments stood unflinching under the tire of artillery, the charge of cavalry, and every variety of assault that the compact col- umns or the scattered trialleurs of the enemy's infantry could inflict. As they joyously sprang forward against the discomfited masses of the French, the setting sun broke through the clouds which had obscured the sky during the greater part of the day, and glittered on the bayonets of the allies while they in turn poured down the valley and toward the heights that were held by the foe. Almost the whole of the French host was now in irretrievable confusion. The Prussian army was coming more and more rapidly forward on their right, and the Young Guard, which had held Planchenoit so bravely, was at last compelled to give way. Some regiments of the Old Guard in vain endeavored to form in squares. They were swept away to the rear; and then Napoleon himself fled from the last of his many fields, to become in a few weeks a captive and an exile. The battle was lost by France past all recovery. The vic- torious armies of England and Prussia, meeting on the scene of their triumph, continued to press forward and overwhelm every attempt that was made to stem the tide of ruin. The Britisli army, exhausted by its toils and suftering during that dreadful day, did not urge the pursuit beyond the heights which the enemy had occupied. But the Prussians drove the fugitives before them throughout the night. And of the magnificent host which had that morning cheered their emperor in confidentexpectation of victory, very few were ever assembled again in arms. Their loss, both in lh« field and in the pursuit, was immense; and the greater num- ber of those who escaped dispersed as soon as they crossed the frontier. The army under the Duke "Wellington lost nearly 15,000 men in killed and wounded on this terrible day of battle. The loss of the Prussian army was nearly 7,000 more. At such a fearful price was the deliverance of Europe purchased. On closing our survey of this, the last of the Decisive Battles of the World, it is pleasing to contrast the year which it signalized BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 297 lirith the one that is now passing over our heads. We have not (and long may we want) the stern excitememt of the struggles of war, and we see no captive Standards of our European neighbors brought in triumph to our shrines. But we witness an infinitely prouder spectacle. "We see the banners of every civilized nation waving over the arena of our competition with each other in the arts that minister to our race's supjjort and happiness, and not to its suffer- ing and destruction. " Peace hath her victories No less renowned than war ; " and no battle-field ever witnessed a victory more noble than that which England, under her sovereign lady and her royal prince, is uow teaching the peof)les of the earth to achieve over selfish preju- dice and international feuds, in the great cause of the general promotion of industry and welfare of mankind. TBS BND THE CELEBRATED Grand, Square and Upright PIANOFORTES. requires. SOHMER & CO., as Mamifacturers^ r . « ^^^^ Manufacturers ackuowledged to be makers ^^ ^^andard instrumen^^^^^^ quality as an inducement.to iTcilteTtZrnol t'l^S^'lotuliX^^^ I liano. Valley and price are too .n- ^eparably%ined to "P^-^t the one without the other .^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ .^^ ^ j^. Every Piano ought to be judged as to [f;'^ quaiuy however Rood the others may be, manship; if any one of these is wanting in excel e^^^^^^^ .^ the highest ' ?e|S'SaT?LTtl'tlsTfe 5^^^^^^^^ ^^- ^^ ^'^"^ ^^^ ''SOHMER " its honorable position with the trade and the public. EeceivedPiist Prize Centennial Exhibition, Philadelpliia, 1876. Eeceived Piist Prize at ExHbition, Montreal, Canada, 1881 and 1882. SOHMER & CO., Manufacturers, M9-155 E. 14tli St., New York, The Perfect Sh akespeare. Carefully prepared from the earliest and more modern editions, selected where commentators have differed as to the Sense of obscure or doubtful passages, from those readings which the ablest critics believe to be the most Shakesperean and best suited to a popular edition. Illustrated with Thirty Large Engravings^ designed bv Mr. John Coxen, the celebrated artist and engraver, and a steel portrait of Shakespeare. We have used the term '"''Perfecf as applicable to this edition, and any one that will examine it will see that it well merits the title; and, indeed, is the only edition that fully deserves the title of '"'■ Perfect.^'' t . There are numerous edirionso^ this wonderful writer's works, got up in all^ styles, and at every price. But, unfortunately they are all more or less faulty. From some editions many of the strongest passages are omitted in deference to squeamish namby-pambyism. In other editions some fanciful critic has tried to improve the language of the mighty master— as if a rushlight could add lustre to the blazing beams of the noonday sun. In other editions, again, many scenes are transposed, till the plays are made, like Joseph's coat, a thing "of shreds and patches." But in this Edition, the "Perfect" Shakespeare, A II the Poems — all the Plays — all the Characters — all the Language — are given un- abridged, clear and "perfect" as they originally sprang from the august brow of this Jove of Poets — the sublime Shakespeare. It is not necessary at this late day to say aught in praise of Shakespeare's works; for they are universally admitted to be the grandest efforts of any human mind. Works that have been eulogized by Ben Johnson, by Dryden, by Addison, by Mil- ton (Prino "^ Poets) who has beautifully written of him an "Sweetest Shakespeaae — Nature's child — Warbling his native wood-notes-wild." needs no eT"''ngy from meaner men. IF YOU HAVE BUT ONE BOOK LET THAT BOOK BE "SHAKESPEARE." It is an epitome ol all human Passions, Motives, Actions and expressions. None are too low; none too high to miss being instructed as well as delighted by the Plays and Poetry of Shakespeare. Even if a person is not easily moved by "concord of sweet" words it is a mat' ter of IDsr©cessai3:?;57~ IE=>ol±ti© Ed-cLcaitixoxi. to be well informed about the works of "the sweet Swan of Avon." 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The Poetical \ . orks of Thomas Moore, Complete and Unabridged. Reprinted from the original edition, with Explanatory Notes. 800 pp. large 12 mo. Cloth, Black and Gold. Price One Dollar. Every person with one note of music in his soul should own a copy of this book. Though in one respect Moore is a universal poet, in that his works are household treasures in almost every home; yet is he,/rtr excellence^ the Poet of the Emerald Isle. DANTE. The Vision of Hell, Purgatory and Paradise. Translated into English Verse, by H. T. Carv, a. M. With copious Explanatory Notes, and a Chronological View of the Age of Dante. 400 pp. large 12 mo. Cloth, Black and Gold. Price One Dollar. This is the best English translation ever made of this marvellous creation. The author was one of the most learned as well as one of the most original writers the world has known, and it needed a man like Cary — a prodigy of wisdom — to properly translate and elucidate this world famous book — Miltonic in its grandeur of con- ception. BURN'S POETICAL WORKS. The Complete Works of Robert Burns. A New Edition, Unabridged, with Ex- planatory and Glossarial Notes, and a Memoir of the Author. 500 pp. Large 12 mo. Cloth, Black and Gold. Price One Dollar. As long as the daisy blosson: s and the heather blooms in Bonnie Scotland, the memory of her " peasant poet " will endure. Aye, and should endure. He has not only sung of the witching hour " When Coming through the Rye," of " Mary in Heaven, of the " Banks and Braes o' Bonnie I)oon," Scots wa hae wi' Wallace Bled " — but he has enforced grand truths that "■ Rank is but the Guinea's Stamp, a Man's a Man for a' that;" and in his best lines has produced a reverence for the Bible and a love of virtue. Good News for the Little Ones GENUIIJMEPSI The Kind of Books Boys and Girls W ant to Have. SOMETHING TO MAKE H OME HAPPY RARE TR EAT FOR THE JU VENILES PRETTY STORIES- PRETTY PICTURES- PRETTY BINDINGS. Boys and Girls Story Book. By "COUSIN VIRGINIA." •Tiis, although a new book, is full of the true home-like spirit that filled the story » ^» s of our childhood. The Boys and Girls Story Book is crammed with the most *«u«fhtiul tales that fancy ever painted. Boys and Girls, as well as all kinds of ^'mning and interesting animals, figure in the different chapters. What rare, sea- 'y^ed humor, is crowded into "The Dog's Story," "The Experience of a Chicken ^'one," "The Bat's Story," "The Sunbeam's Story," "The Rat's Family," "Jack's Mrcus," "How the Canary Bird Caught Cold," and, indeed, every page is alive rith innocent fun and frolic. Almost every sentence brings a happy smile, except *vhere occasionally a sweet, tender sentiment makes a few precious tears drop into pe pretty dimples. The children that get this beautiful Book for their holiday gift, will be all the happier and better for it. One large elegantly printed 12 mo. vol.. cloth, vritb. a superbly designed and engraved cover in black and gold, illustrations. Sent Of mail, post paid, on receipt of price, $1.85 Merry's Games and Puzzles. The prettiest garden is not more full of Flowers, than is this book ofPicturei and Stories. And Suck Pictures/ all full of life and fun; and Suck Storieif fairlj boiling over with interest. Such a lot of Games and Puzzles^ too, as will keep a home circle pleasantly perplexed for hours, except when loud laughter breaks forth «s some little wise head solves the intricate riddles. 'Tis such a book as this that keeps the young folks, well pleased, in-doors during the long stormy winter niffbtfi. Richly bound in cloth, black and gold. Price $1.25 _ lOooiesof thealxtvcisantUr Mail to aoj address. EUBST ib 00. 122Ha9BauSt. KX lufox^mation for the Million! A BOOK OP FACTS AND USE FUL KNOWLEDQEr This valuable volume is the most exhaustive, yet the most compact compend- X jm of general knowledge ever issued. The subjects are those in which every one IS interested, yet few comparatively Aa7>e an inlelliRent understandmg- ot the *^ Whys and U'hfre/orTs" relating thereto. The information is given in plain intelligent language, and is aclt.^>ted to the use of the ordinary reader. The in- formation also has a practical use. In this age of activity and competition, th« Author recognizes the fact that all knowledge should have a decidedly practical bearing. Much of the information in this volume can, therefore, be used by many in the practical pursuits of every day life, and be made a source of pecuniary proftU Do you want to know anything about U?eai3 Oo±±ee3 0"h i oox^gr, eto.. Here you will find all about their cultivation, aualities and history. Are you anxious to know all aoout ' Whether of temperate or tropical growth. In this Book you will get precise dauii* as to their frrowth, culture, uses, and modes of preservation, etc, ,i curiosity or interest cause you to get posted about ^ ]p I es,~» Ari and Science, 'in tlieir relation to each other, and to human life and human well or ill doing. ^ The wonderful modem miracles, the PHONOGRAPH, the MICRO- PHONE, and the TEIiEPHONE are fully described. In fact, a small volume would be occupied by giving a detail of the whole Con- tents of this wonderful Book or BOOK OF WONDERS. H you are puzzled about any question— here the puzzle will be expf.alt^ed. The plouhgman and the philosopher, will alike be wiser for consulting this book. "Whether you want to travel through the air, on the earth or througt water; h<;ra you will find all about the different modes of progression. Chamber's Information for the Million ts an mdisoensable Book for all who desire to be well posted on recent discoveries in the Arts and Sciences, and it forms a Complete^ Comprehensive and Accurate 'story of e^'erything in Common Use. The work is handsomely printed on good heavy paper, and is bound in the best manner, vvith gilt back and Side stamp, making a very desirable anu hands'^ no \olume. 360, 12 mo. pages, in English Cloth. Price $1.25 r lant by M^ oa rBoeiDUf f^wTArinniwi W9Xi7fG0^ 122 ITa^wa St., STXT* ^ i-RBAp^g