UC-NRLF 
 
 ^^^^m^msp^m^ 
 
 
 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 J 
 
THE ARREST OP CJE3AR BORGHA. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 GREAT COMMANDERS 
 
 G. P. R. TAMES 
 
 AUTHOR OF "dark SCENES OF HISTORY*' 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOURS 
 
 LONDON 
 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS 
 
 Broadway, Ludgate Hill 
 
 NEW YORK: 416 BROOME STREET 
 
Wimioxm toith tlti0 'B^lttm^, 
 
 In Crown 2>vo, ClotJi, with Coloured 
 Plates, 
 
 GREAT BATTLES OF THE BRITISH 
 ARMY* By Charles Macfarlane. 
 
 GREAT SIEGES OF HISTORY. 
 
 GREAT BATTLES OF THE BRITISH 
 NAVY. By Lieut. C. R. Low. 
 
 BRITISH HEROES IN FOREIGN WARS. 
 
 By James Grant. 
 
 GIFT 
 
JZS 
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 The greater part of the following pages were written 
 •nearly a year and a half ago ; since which time various cir- 
 cumstances have intervened to obstruct the author and 
 impede the publication. He trusts, nevertheless, that these 
 occurrences, however annoying to himself, have not had any 
 effect in injuring the work; for, favoured by the public far 
 more than he is conscious of deserving, there is no labour 
 he would not undertake, no effort he would not make, to 
 ■jjecure the continuance of their approbation. 
 
 As some of the lives are much more brief and general 
 than others, the word " Memoirs " has been used, perhaps 
 erroneously, as having a more confined meaning than 
 ** Lives :'* but at the same time the author thinks it neces- 
 sary to say a few words in regard to the causes which 
 .prevented some of these sketches from being as much 
 jmished and as minute as others. In one instance, the 
 character he was called upon to portray, though neces- 
 sarily included in the series, possessed so few points on 
 -which the WTiter's mind could rest with pleasure, that, not- 
 . withstandin^u^fforts to the contrary, he unconsciously 
 
 214 
 
17 PEEFACE. 
 
 abridged the detail. In another, he found that a far 
 superior pen to his own was engaged in giving a lengthened 
 and accurate account of the person to whom the memoir 
 he had commenced referred ; and nothing remained for him 
 but to confine himself to the general outline. In regard to 
 a third, although an infinity of unauthenticated anecdotes 
 and doubtful statements were to be found, for which the 
 writer could discover no clear authority, yet very little 
 precise information was to be obtained. 
 
 It is true, that these circumstances must, more or less, 
 afiect every volume of biography; but the excuse, the 
 author trusts, will not on that account be held the less 
 valid, his work not being in all instances as full and 
 circumstantial as he could have wished. 
 
MEMOIES OF GEEAT COMMMDEES. 
 
 HENRY V. 
 
 KINa OF EKGLAKD. 
 
 Born at Monmouth— At the age of thirteen became prince of Wales — 
 Eariy appearance of warlike abilities — Commands an army against 
 Glendower and the Welch — Commands an expedition on the Scotch 
 borders — Becomes king — Makes claims upon France — Prepares to 
 enforce them — Lands in France — Besieges Harfleur, which surrenders 
 — Battle of Agincourt — Henry returns to England — His conquests in 
 Normandy — Lands with an army again in France — Besieges Rouen, 
 which capitulates — Assassination of the duke of Burgundy — ^Treaty 
 of Troyes — Henry marries Catherine of France — Siege of Monte reau 
 — Siege of Melun — Henry governs France — Duke of Clarence defeated 
 and killed at Baugy in Anjou — Henry returns to France — Siege of 
 Meaux — Meaux taken — Resides at Senlis — Sickness and death. 
 
 Henry, the fifth English monarcli of that name, was born 
 at Monmouth, on the banks of the pleasant Wye, in the 
 year 1384-5. He was the eldest son of Henry earl of 
 Derby, and of Mary de Bohun, daughter of the earl of 
 Hereford. During his infancy reverses and successes 
 passed rapidly over his father's head ; at the age of thirteen 
 years he found himself the eldest son of the king of Eng- 
 land, and was created by his father prince of Wales, duke 
 of Cornwall, and earl of Chester. What the early educa- 
 tion of Henry Y. was, we are unable to ascertain, but it 
 may be inferred that, during the life of his mother, princi- 
 ples of honour and virtue had been instilled into his bosom, 
 which, though rendered dormant for a time, were not 
 extinct. But, as he advanced towards manhood, his posi- 
 tion drew around him evil companions, who, to answer 
 their own interested purposes, encouraged the indulgence 
 of passions engendered by idleness and high animal spirits. 
 
 The tales of his debauchery, and the depravity of his 
 taste, while a youth, have been doubted and contradicted, 
 
 B 
 
3 HENRY V. 
 
 but not disproved by modern historians. The positive 
 assertions of older writers, whose means of information were 
 great and immediate, must always be considered more 
 trustworthy than the theoretical doubts of persons who 
 lived w^hen a thousand sources of knowledge have oeen 
 buried under the lumber of ages. Even supposing the 
 accounts of Henry's wildness to be highly coloured, as 
 traditions generally are, still traditions have alw^ays some 
 truth as a foundation, and there is little more reason to 
 doubt the excesses of Prince Hal than the eulogiums of 
 the precocious virtues and talents that are handed down to 
 us of other princes. His short reign proved him to be a 
 man of clear sense and strong will ; and as, even in the 
 midst of his follies, scintillations of superior feelings and 
 purposes were occasionally apparent, we think w^e must 
 accept them as the wild shoots of a vigorous plant which 
 the hand of time had not trained or pruned. 
 
 Out of a multitude of events which might be brought 
 forward to prove this fact, one of the best authenticated, 
 and the most striking, is his submission to Chief Justice 
 Gascoign. 
 
 Henry, it would appear, had entered the court of justice 
 in support of one of his dissolute companions, who had 
 rendered himself amenable to the laws of his country. 
 Notwithstanding the presence and influence of the prince, 
 the magistrate did his duty towards the offender, without 
 fear or favour, and in the heat of the moment Henry struck 
 the judge upon the judgment-seat. Still unmoved and 
 unruffled, the chief justice, without a hesitation on the 
 score of the prince's rank or power, at once committed him 
 for contempt of court. 
 
 Time had been given for the better spirit to assume its 
 influence, and struck with the conscientious courage of the 
 judge, the heir-apparent of the throne submitted to the 
 punishment he had merited, and suffered himself without 
 opposition to be led to prison, thus setting a noble example 
 of obedience to the laws. His father was of a mind well 
 qualified to appreciate the conduct both of his son and o f 
 his sou's judge, and when the news was brought him — 
 probably by those who sought to inflame the monarch's 
 mind against the punisher of his son — he exclaimed with 
 
KING OE ENGLAIs^D. S 
 
 joy : " Blessed is the king whose magistrates possess 
 courage to execute the laws upon such an offender; and 
 still more happy is he who has for a son, a prince willing to 
 endure such wholesome chastisement." 
 
 Although, from all accounts, it would appear that many 
 parts of the prince's conduct gave great pain and offence to 
 his father, yet we find that Henry TV, never scrupled to 
 entrust to his care some of the greatest and most important 
 military operations of his reign. Whether the prince had 
 already displayed the qualities of a soldier, in a degree suf- 
 ficient to attract the notice of his father, or whether the 
 king sought only to habituate him early to that inevitable 
 career of arms which was in those days one of the misfor- 
 tunes of royalty, we are not informed ; but so early as his 
 sixteenth or seventeenth year he fought at the battle of 
 Shrewsbury, in which Henry Hotspur was slain. "What 
 was the part assigned to the prince on this occasion I do 
 not find stated precisely ; but all accounts agree that he 
 proved of infinite assistance and service to his father both 
 *y action and example, and fought for a long time in the 
 thickest of the battle, after being severely wounded by an 
 arrow in the face. 
 
 The deatli of Percy spread dismay amongst his soldiers 
 and allies, and after a fight of nearly four hours the party 
 of Northumberland fled, leaving the king master of the 
 :field of battle, and a number of noble prisoners. Many of 
 these were executed, either at Shrewsbury or London ; and 
 the earl of Northumberland, the chief support of the 
 rebellion, made his peace for the time, to meditate fresh 
 rebellions. 
 
 Owen Glendower, however, one of the confederates, was 
 still in arms in "Wales ; and while Henry IV. returned in 
 triumph to London, he despatched his eldest son, at the 
 head of considerable forces, to reduce the principality to 
 obedience. The unhappy Grlendower, unable to oppose the 
 army led against him, was forced to fly, and, abandoned by 
 his friends and followers, is said to have died of starvation, 
 among the caves and wildernesses in which he sought 
 refuge. In the meanwhile the prince of Wales conducted 
 his expedition with skill and wisdom ; the whole country 
 submitted to his power; and having re-established order 
 
 B 2 
 
4 HENET y. 
 
 and tranquillity, he joined his father in London to receive 
 public honour and paternal praise. 
 
 Although the earl of Northumberland had made sub- 
 mission, and had been permitted by the king to remain 
 unmolested in his estates and dignities, but a short time 
 elapsed before he was again deep in conspiracy against the 
 monarch. The plot, however, was detected before it was 
 ripe. The principal conspirators were arrested and be- 
 headed, and the earl of Northumberland himself fled into 
 Scotland, which had promised him aid and support, and 
 thence into France, in search of more efficient succour. 
 The king meanwhile took possession of all Northumber- 
 land, and while he made himself master of the strong places 
 which had been garrisoned by the troops of the earl, he sent 
 the prince of "Wales forward into Scotland, upon one of 
 those cruel expeditions which disgrace the records of the 
 borders. Massacre, ruin, and destruction were the end and 
 object, and no ultimate advantage was pretended or obtained 
 by any party. The weak, mild, and unhappy Eobert king^ 
 of Scotland was then struggling through the latter years 
 of his life ; and his country, desolated by factions and 
 weakened by intestine strife, was in no state to offer effec- 
 tual opposition to the English invasion. After a long 
 march through the country, in which an immense quantity 
 of property was destroyed and plundered, the prince of 
 Wales concluded a truce of some months with the border 
 chiefs, and returned with all the honour his expedition 
 deserved. 
 
 Little more occurs in the history of Henry as prince of 
 Wales which is in itself interesting, if stripped of the 
 embellishments added to it by the fancy of our great poet. 
 A project of marriage between the heir of the English 
 crown and a daughter of the duke of Burgundy was enter- 
 tained for some time, but died away, and the opposite, or 
 Orleans, party in France, was afterwards supported by the 
 English crown. At length, Henry lY., on the eve of an 
 expedition to the Holy Land, undertaken, it is said, in 
 expiation of his usurpation of the throne, was struck with 
 apoplexy ; and a tale, in regard to his death, is current 
 amongst the historians of the period, on which Sbak- 
 Bpeare has founded one of the most beautiful scenes m 
 
KING OF ENGLAND. 5 
 
 his historical dramas. The poet, however, is far more 
 indebted for the splendour of his materials to his own 
 imagination, than to any historical record. The facts, as 
 related by the best authorities, are simply as follow. 
 
 After the first attack of apoplexy the king was carried to 
 a chamber in the house of the abbot of Westminster, and 
 put to bed, and at his own desire the crown was laid upon 
 his pillow. He languished in a state of great weakness for 
 some time, and at length, after a second attack, appeared 
 to those who were watching him to have yielded the spirit. 
 The chamberlain immediately spread a linen cloth over the 
 face of the king, and hastened to communicate his supposed 
 death to the heir-apparent, who, entering the room to take 
 a last look at his father's body, removed the crown from his 
 pillow, and carried it into another apartment. x\fter a short 
 time the monarch revived, and sending for his son, demanded, 
 angrily, why he had removed the crown. The prince replied, 
 that all men had thought him dead, and therefore he had 
 taken the symbol of royalty as his by right. 
 
 " What right I have to it myself, God knows," replied 
 the king, " and how I have enjoyed it." 
 
 " Of that," replied the prince, " it is not for me to judge ; 
 but if you die king, my father, I will have the garland, and 
 will defend it with my sword against all eneaiies, as you 
 have done." 
 
 Not long after this conversation Henry TV. expired, and 
 his son, the prince of Wales, was immediately proclaimed 
 king, by the title of Henry Y. But his change was not 
 alone in name or station ; his vices and his follies he cast 
 from him, as an unworthy garment, and assumed with royalty 
 a royal mind. The debauched companions of his youth were 
 banished from his presence and his counsels, and forbidden 
 to approach within ten miles of his dwelling. But at the 
 same time we are assured that they were not left in indi- 
 gence or necessity. Wisdom and virtue became the only 
 recommendations which raised any one to his service ; and 
 those who had proved themselves most worthy, under the 
 government of the former monarch, found themselves most 
 readily welcomed by the new king. 
 
 It is not, of course, my purpose here to trace the life of 
 Henry V. in the civil government of his realm, but never- 
 
6 HEIGHT T. 
 
 tlieless one of Lis first actions after coming to the throne^ 
 deserves some notice, as exemplifying the character of him 
 whose life as a commander I am about to sketch. The 
 body of the unhappy King Eichard II. had remained 
 unhonoured at Langly during the period which had elapsed 
 between his death and that of him who had deposed him ; 
 but although there were still living many claimants to the 
 crown of England whose right was unquestionably better 
 than his own, Henry Y. had the boldness or the magnani- 
 mity to remove the dust of the murdered monarch to 
 Westminster, and solemnly mingle it with that of former 
 kings. He knew that there is but one title by which a 
 king can hold his throne against internal enemies — the 
 consent of his people ; and but one means by which he can 
 guard it against external foes — the sword; and he felt 
 himself qualified to rely on both. 
 
 It is said that the first warlike expedition of the young 
 king was prompted by the archbishop of Canterbury, on 
 those motives which Protestant writers are somewhat too 
 fond of attributing to Eoman Catholic prelates. We are 
 told that, at the Parliament of Leicester, the Commons 
 demanded that a bill should be reconsidered and passed, 
 which had been brought in during a former session for 
 appropriating the lands and moneys bestowed by devotees 
 upon the church, to the more popular purpose (as it was 
 at that time) of providing a standing army. To turn the 
 mind of the king from this subject, the archbishop is 
 supposed to have revived the antiquated claims of the 
 English monarch s, not only to the great portion of the 
 Erench territory which had been actually held by former 
 English sovereigns, but to the crown of Erance itself; and 
 to have filled the mind of a young and warlike prince with 
 the desires of military glory and territorial aggrandize- 
 ment. 
 
 It is far more likely, however, that such desires were 
 already germinating in the heart of the young king, and that 
 the political necessity of giving active employment abroad to 
 the factious and turbulent nobility, which formed the military 
 strength of that day, supported the natural wishes of an 
 ambitious prince. No moment could have been more 
 favourable for prosecuting such claims upon the throne of 
 
KING OF engla:^d. 7 
 
 France tlian the period of Henry's accession. The unhappy 
 monarch Charles YI., in a state of mental imbecility, was 
 but a tool in the hands of others. His infamous queen, 
 Isabella of Bavaria, laboured to divide and ruin her 
 husband's kingdom, rather than to tranquillize and con- 
 solidate it. The Burgundian and Armagnac factions 
 committed every excess unpunished, and desolated their 
 native land with continual strife ; while the Dauphin, 
 plunged in pleasures and debaucheries, an object of anger 
 to some and contempt to others, abandoned to its fate a 
 country he had not energy to govern. 
 
 Henry appears early to have conceived the design of 
 taking advantage of this state of disorganization, and 
 of adding another crown to that which his father had 
 usurped. His first step was to send as ambassadors to the 
 court of France, the earl of Dorset, Eichard Lord Grrey, 
 and the bishops of Durham and Norwich, to require 
 in marriage the daughter of the French king ; but together 
 with this pacific proposal was coupled the extraordinary 
 demand of the duchies of Acquitaine and Normandy, with 
 the counties of Ponthieu, Maine, and Anjou. The ambas- 
 sadors were received by the French monarch during one of 
 the intervals of his malady, and were splendidly entertained 
 in Paris ; but after a short time returned without a satis- 
 factory answer, the French monarch declaring that he 
 would send his own envoys to treat with the king of 
 England. 
 
 Henry did not pause for their arrival, but immediately 
 began to concentrate all the forces he could collect at 
 Southampton, and sent two men of the name of Clitherow 
 and Fleet to Holland, for the purpose of obtaining the 
 necessary shipping to transport his large army to the 
 invasion of France. The news of these preparations 
 hastened the journey of the French ambassadors, and 
 various negotiations took place, which, of course, when 
 one party was determined upon war, did not terminate 
 in peace. 
 
 Some authors have asserted that on the first extravagant 
 demands of the English king, the Dauphin, unaware 
 of the change that had taken place in his character since 
 his accession to the throne, sent him over a ton of tennis- 
 
8 HENRY V. 
 
 balls in contempt; to whicli Henry replied, that he 
 would soon return the present with balls which the 
 gates of Paris would prove too weak as rackets to send 
 back. 
 
 This tale is apparently fabulous ; for neither do we find 
 it confirmed by the best historians, nor is it rendered more 
 probable by the character of the Dauphin ; who was far too 
 debauched himself to presume to sneer at the debaucheries of 
 another prince. !N"o sooner was the truce at an end which 
 then existed between France and England, than Henry 
 himself proceeded to Southampton to take the command of his 
 army in person. The very night previous to the appointed 
 day of embarkation, however, the monarch discovered a 
 conspiracy amongst his most familiar followers, which 
 caused a temporary delay. 
 
 The earl of Cambridge, Henry Lord Scroop, and Sir 
 Thomas Gray were accused of combining to take the king's 
 life, and on being arrested confessed their treason. In 
 regard to the motives which could induce three men of high 
 rank and unblemished character, to undertake the commis- 
 sion of so base a crime against a monarch who loved 
 and trusted them, there seem to be many doubts. A 
 bribe from Trance, which has been stated as the cause, 
 seems to be totally inadequate to the effect ; and it is much 
 more probable that the purpose of elevating to the throne 
 the earl of March, the true and direct heir of the unhappy 
 E/ichard II., was that which the conspirators had in view, as 
 stated by the best French historians. To the earl of March 
 himself, however, Henry was invariable in his kindness, and 
 even when the conspirators were executed, the confidence 
 of the king in his less happy cousin does not seem to have 
 been at all shaken. 
 
 As soon as justice was done upon the traitors, the 
 English armament put to sea, and notwithstanding great 
 preparations which had been made for defending the Erench 
 coast, Henry landed his troops in safety at the mouth 
 of the Seine: and immediately laid siege to Harfleur, 
 at that time the principal sea-port of Normandy. His 
 forces are said by Monstrelet to have consisted at this 
 period of six thousand men-at-arms, or such as wore helmets, 
 and twenty-four thousand archers, besides a large and well- 
 
KINO or ENGLAND. 9 
 
 Appointed train of artillery, which was now rapidly coming 
 into use in sieges. 
 
 The operations against Harfleur detained the English 
 monarch for some time, the walls being strong and thick, 
 protected by a deep ditch, and flanked by many towers of 
 considerable size : and during the space thus employed, 
 great efibrts were made on the part of the French to repel 
 the invasion of their island enemies. 
 
 The Dauphin himself advanced to Yernon on the Seine, 
 and the famous Marshal Boucicault, one of the most 
 celebrated knights of his time, gathered together a large 
 force, and advanced towards the English army. Still 
 it was not judged prudent to attack King Henry in his 
 camp; and Boucicault confined his efforts to cutting off 
 the supplies of the British forces. This proved the more 
 detrimental, as a great part of the provisions brought from 
 England had been spoiled by the sea air, and a severe 
 species of dysentery began to manifest itself in the camp, 
 of which more than two thousand men perished in a 
 few days. 
 
 ^Nevertheless, Henry did not suffer his courage to fail, 
 and the siege was continued with unabated vigour. At 
 length the means of defence began to diminish fast within 
 the town. Two waggons of powder, which the Erench 
 attempted to introduce, fell into the hands of the English ; 
 the walls were ruined by the effects of the artillery, and at 
 length the governor agreed to surrender, if he should not 
 be relieved within three days. The three days expired 
 without succour, and Harfleur was surrendered to the king 
 of England. 
 
 This first conquest had already cost the English monarch 
 ^ear ; not so much by the efforts of his enemies as by the 
 pestilence which afflicted his army, and which had already 
 spread to nearly one-half of his troops. He seems, there- 
 fore, to have entertained the idea of contenting himself, for 
 the time, with what he had already acquired ; and, after 
 repairing the fortifications of Harfleur, and supplying it 
 with a strong garrison and abundant provisions, he sent 
 back a considerable part of his army, under the command of 
 the duke of Clarence, and with the rest, who were in a more 
 healthy condition, he proceeded to march for Calais. 
 
10 HEJ^EY V. 
 
 His forces now amounted only to two thousand men-at- 
 arms and thirteen thousand archers ; and by proclamations 
 and manifestoes of every kind that could stir up the spirit 
 of a warlike people, the Dauphin and the French council 
 were striving to raise a sufficient body of forces to cut off 
 the English army on its march. JS'or were their efforts 
 unseconded by the nobility of the country. The duke of 
 Orleans and the Armagnac faction made every exertion in 
 defence of their native land ; and though the duke of Bur- 
 gundy, who was by this time in treaty with the English 
 monarch, neglected to send his contingent, and impeded his 
 subjects, as far as possible, in their attempts to join the 
 defenders of Prance, the gallant nobility of Burgundy were 
 not to be restrained, and every day flocked to the stixndard 
 of the Constable D'Albre and the Marshal Boucicault. 
 
 Tidings of gathering hosts did not fail to reach the small 
 and weakened English army, and Henry with all speed 
 approached the river Somme, and attempted the passage at 
 the ford of Blanchetache, where his great-grandfather. King 
 Edward, had passed prior to the battle of Crecy. The ford, 
 however, was already defended by so strong a force, that 
 Henry was obliged to relinquish his design ; and, ascending 
 the banks of the river, he endeavoured to find some other 
 spot where the same precautions had not been taken by the 
 enemy. At every passage, however, he found them prepared 
 to receive him ; the bridges were burned, the fords were 
 guarded or destroyed, and at Abbeville the constable and 
 Boucicault had already assembled a force infinitely superior 
 to his own. Marching onward, however, with a bold aspect^ 
 the English monarch still ascended the course of the river, 
 while the Erench army, on the other side, followed him step 
 by step. On more than one occasion Henry paused on his 
 march, in the best position he could find, and seemed 
 to await the attack of the enemy ; but no rencontre of any 
 consequence took place between tlae English and the Erench 
 armies, though at Corbie the armed peasantry, headed by 
 some men-at-arms of that town, engaged the English 
 advanced guard, and were driven with great slaughter to 
 the gates. By this time the principal force of the Erench 
 had advanced as far as Peronne ; and between Corbie and 
 that place the English discovered a ford, which had either 
 
KINa OE ENGLAND. 11 _ 
 
 been neglected or was unknown, over which the army 
 passed the river unopposed. 
 
 While these operations were taking place in the field, the 
 council of the king of France were deliberating upon the 
 question, whether it would be expedient to attack the 
 retreating army of England, and risk a general battle, or 
 still to hang upon its rear, and endeavour to destroy it 
 piecemeal in its march towards Calais. The bolder measure 
 was adopted by a large majority of the council ; and it was 
 published throughout France, that all noble and valiant men 
 who sought to acquire glory in the field of battle should 
 repair immediately to the Constable D' Albre, who proposed 
 to give battle to the English invaders with all speed. Such 
 a summons called immense multitudes into the field ; and 
 the hourly increase of the French army threatened but to 
 render the destruction of the English too easy an achieve- • 
 ment to redound greatly to the honour of the French 
 knights. 
 
 From Mouchy, where the king of England had first 
 paused after the passage of the river, he proceeded to a 
 small town called Maisoncelles, while the French com- 
 manders hastened to endeavour to cut off his retreat, and 
 took up their position at Eoussauville and Agincourt. The 
 certainty of the most brilliant success animated the hearts 
 of the French, while all that the English could derive from 
 their situation was the courage of despair. About one 
 hundred thousand regular troops, besides a number of 
 irregular partizans, were opposed to the English army, 
 which, when it set out from Harfleur, consisted but of 
 fifteen thousand men, and which, in passing through an 
 enemy's country, had of course found no means of recruit- 
 ing its forces ; while it is but fair to suppose that many 
 men had been lost by weariness, disease, and occasional 
 encounters with the enemy. 
 
 Thus the two armies passed the night of Thursday, the 
 24!th of October, 1415, within about three bow-shots of 
 each other, lodging principally in the open field. The 
 French spent the time at great fires, surrounding their 
 various banners with much merriment and rejoicing; and, 
 as usual on the eve of a great battle, a number of gentlemen 
 received the honour of knighthood, to prepare them for the - 
 
12 HENUr V. 
 
 following day. The English army generally received the 
 sacrament, and afterwards, it is reported, cheered themselves 
 with the sounds of their musical instruments during the 
 greater part of the night. One of the French historians 
 also relates, as an extraordinary fact, that, notwithstanding 
 the excellent appointments and warlike provision of the 
 Erench army, there were few, if any, instruments of music 
 to be found in their host; and he adds that, during 
 that night, it was remarked the horses of the French army 
 did not even break the silence as usual by their neighings. 
 
 Early in the morning the dispositions for battle were 
 made in both hosts. The Erench were divided into three 
 large bodies, forming the van, the main, and the rear guard, 
 each having its own centre and wings ; but it was ' deter- 
 mined, at the same time, to await the approach of the 
 English, who must necessarily pass them in the attempt to 
 reach Calais. 
 
 Finding that the attack was not made by the enemy, as 
 he had expected would be the case, Henry, after having 
 refreshed his soldiers, marched forward to the unequal 
 contest, throwing forward a body of about two hundred 
 archers, who concealed themselves in a meadow not far from 
 the vanguard of the Erench, behind a ditch which defended 
 them from the charge of cavalry. The rest of the army was 
 speedily arranged, the archers being placed in front, and 
 furnished with pointed stakes, which, planted in the ground 
 and shod with iron, formed a rampart against the enemy's 
 men-at-arms. The horse supported the foot, and in the 
 wings, we are told by Monstrelet, were mingled archers and 
 cavalry. 
 
 The English force now advanced rapidly to the attack of 
 the Erench army, keeping perfect order, and a bold and 
 determined front, while their adversaries also placed them- 
 selves in array, and prepared to win the victory, of which 
 they entertained no doubt. King Henry was now on foot, 
 m the front of his forces, and an oration is attributed to 
 him, which, as it was fabricated, beyond all doubt, long 
 after his death, I shall not here repeat. Sir Thomas of 
 Erpingham, an old and experienced knight, advanced before 
 the rest, and when the whole army had arrived within bow- 
 shot of the enemy, he threw up his warder in the air, which 
 
KING OP ENGLAND. 13 
 
 was followed by that tremendous cheer that has in all ages 
 preceded the onset of the British. 
 
 The English archers wore no defensive armour in the 
 field of Agincourt, and the steel-clad thousands of the 
 Erench beheld with contempt the handful of half-naked 
 bowmen that advanced against them, few with even a coat 
 upon their shoulders, many bareheaded, and almost all of 
 them with nothing to defend them but their bow, their 
 sword, or axe. Eut when they drew their cloth-yard shafts 
 to the head, and the whistling messengers of death flew 
 thick amongst the G-allic horse, the boldest knights were 
 glad to bend their heads to their saddle-bows, to defend 
 their faces from the searching arrows of the English. 
 
 The casting up of the warder in the air, and shouts of 
 the advancing army, had been the signal for the concealed 
 archers to open their discharge upon the flank of the French 
 cavalry, and so fatally true w^ere their arrows, that in a 
 moment a body of eight hundred men-at-arms, who had 
 been thrown forward to break the line of the English foot,, 
 were themselves cast into terrible confusion, and their 
 horses becoming unmanageable from the galling wounds 
 they received, only a hundred and forty reached the English 
 lines. The rest, driven back in disorder, rushed in amongst 
 the vanguard of their own army, carrying with them fear 
 and disarray ; while still the tremendous flight of cloth-yard 
 shafts falling thick among the French, put the whole of the 
 first division of the enemy to flight. 
 
 At that moment, abandoning their bows, and betaking 
 themselves to their swords, their axes, and their bills, the 
 English archers advanced rapidly to take advantage of the 
 disorder of the enemy. The king, at the head of his men- 
 at-arms, supported them powerfully, and advancing onward 
 with steady determination, the way was cleared to the main 
 body of the French, who found themselves assailed and 
 broken almost before they knew that those who preceded 
 them were defeated. The rearguard of the adverse army, 
 still nearly double in number to the victorious English, 
 fled in a body, with the exception of some of the more 
 renowned leaders, who remained to strike one stroke still 
 for the honour of France. But at this part of the engage- 
 ment, the news was brought to Henry that a body of the 
 
14 HENEY V. 
 
 Prencli were in his rear, and plundering the baggage of his 
 army. The field was still full of the enemy, a moment's 
 pause would have been sufficient to renew their courage ; 
 and imagining that a separate division, instead of a few 
 plunderers, which was really the case, were hanging upon 
 his rear, the king issued an order for every man to dispatch 
 his prisoners. This was instantly executed, and a terrible 
 slaughter was the consequence ; but the motive for this 
 bloody act was universally known, and, contrary to the 
 custom of adverse nations, was not made the subject of 
 animadversion even by his enemies. 
 
 The last effort on the part of the French to turn the 
 fortune of the day was made by the counts of Marie and 
 Paquembergue, who with six hundred men-at-arms cast 
 themselves into the English lines when the battle was 
 absolutely lost, and were all either slain or made prisoners. 
 The rest of the army fled in every direction, and the 
 remnant of fifteen thousand men which Henry had led to the 
 field remained upon the plain of Agincourt, the conquerors 
 of nearly ten times their number. 
 
 The king of England, when the battle was completely 
 won, and the field clear, rode round the spot over which 
 such a terrible day had passed, and calling to him the 
 herald of the Erench monarch — who either came up after 
 the battle, or in his sacred character had remained behind — 
 he demanded of him to whom, according to his own con- 
 fession, the victory belonged — to him, or to the king of 
 Erance ? Those who read the history of many battles will 
 see that the question was not a needless one, even on such 
 a field as Agincourt ; and to the heralds of that day 
 belonged the decision of all doubtful points in matters of 
 arms. Mountjoie, king-at-arms, instantly replied that the 
 victory was to be attributed, not to the king of Erance, but 
 the king of England ; and Agincourt remains one of the 
 few fields which have been claimed only by the party that 
 won them. 
 
 The loss on the two adverse sides was very difierently 
 apportioned ; that of the English amounting to only sixteen 
 hundred of every grade, whilst the Erench lost upwards of 
 ten thousand men, of whom more than eight thousand were 
 of noble birth, and from a hundred to a hundred and twenty, 
 
KINO OF ENGLAND. 15 
 
 "whose rank entitled them to display their own banners in 
 the field. Three thousand knights also, we are informed 
 by the journal of a Parisian burgher, fell among the Erench, 
 and the number of prisoners that remained, even after the 
 slaughter of those first captured, was immense. 
 
 The fight lasted till near four o'clock in the afternoon ; 
 and the weary army of England retired to the same village in 
 which it had passed the preceding night, and spent the evening 
 in thanksgiving and rejoicing. Henry, however, did not 
 attempt, with the small forces which he could still command, 
 to pursue his victory any farther ; but, after refreshing his 
 men, followed the course in which the French army had 
 endeavoured to stop him, and marched unopposed to Calais, 
 whence he took ship, and proceeded by Dover to London. 
 
 Shortly after his return to England, Henry was visited by 
 ^igismund emperor of Germany, accompanied by Erench 
 ambassadors commissioned to treat for peace under his 
 mediation. But while Henry continued to exact severe 
 terms, the Erench gave him constant excuses for proceeding 
 in the war, by their efforts to recover Harfleur, which, 
 however , were constantly defeated by the activity of the 
 English monarch and his commanders. 
 
 In the meanwhile the Armagnac faction continued to rule 
 at the Erench court ; and the duke of Burgundy, in open 
 opposition to the Dauphin and his friends, made no scruple 
 of ravaging the territories of his liege lord, or of negotiat- 
 ing openly with the enemies of his country. Nor did the 
 death of the young duke of Acquitaine, at that time Dau- 
 phin, in any degree change the aspect of Erance ; for his 
 brother Charles — who succeeded, after the death of another 
 brother — though of a more active disposition and more 
 vigorous frame, was equally unable to repress the factions 
 of the nobles, and equally an object of hatred to the house 
 of Burgundy. That which put the final stroke to the 
 ruin and divisions of Erance, however, w^as the infamous 
 dereliction of every principle by the Queen Isabella of 
 Bavaria. Her private vices had long been a scandal to the 
 court, and at length becoming too glaring to be passed over 
 even by her own son, she was removed from Paris to Tours, 
 and there detained in close confinement. It is not, of course, 
 my purpose to trace all the struggles that ensued between 
 
16 HEKHY V. 
 
 tbe two factions of France : and it may suflSce to say that 
 the queen, making her situation known to the duke of 
 Burgundy, was liberated by him, and by her influence 
 obtained for her new ally the greater part of the large cities 
 of France, including the capital. An active war imme- 
 diately ensued between the duke and the Dauphin ; and 
 about this period Henry king of England once more took 
 the seas with a large army, and landed at a place called 
 Toucque, in ^^Tormandy. 
 
 To conquer the former patrimony of the British kings 
 seemed the monarch's first object, and in a very short time 
 he made himself master of almost all the principal cities of 
 the duchy. Caen, indeed, resisted with devoted courage, 
 and, after a severe siege, was taken by assault; but the 
 governors of the other fortified places in Normandy, 
 divided between the Armagnac and Burgundian parties, 
 had no confidence in their soldiers or each other, and one 
 after another submitted to the power of the conqueror. 
 'Nor, indeed, did Henry spare any means to obtain his pur- 
 pose in such a bloodless manner. All his proclamations 
 announced that those who submitted should be safe in 
 person and property ; and his address to all the French 
 people holds out to them that prospect of peace and protec- 
 tion which had long been unknown amongst the dissensions 
 of their nobles. The first person of great influence, how- 
 ever, who joined the forces of the English king, was the 
 duke of Britanny ; and, though Henry required no very 
 great exertions from his new ally, the example of such a 
 defection from the crown of France was greatly in behalf of 
 the invader. Eouen, the capital of Normandy, however, 
 still resolutely closed her gates against the English. 
 
 The attack and capture of the Pont de F Arche announced 
 to the people of Eouen, and to the king of France, that the 
 war was about to approach the gates of the Norman capital, 
 and every exertion was made, both by the Burgundian 
 faction, who now held the king in their hands, and the bur- 
 ghers of the city itself, to repel the English in the attempt. 
 A number of famous knights and commanders threw them- 
 selves into the city, which was, besides, garrisoned by 
 upwards of four thousand men-at-arms, and fifteen thou- 
 sand armed citizens, all eager in the cause. Not a moment 
 
KIKa or ENGLAND. 17 
 
 was lost in providing the place with everything necessary 
 to sustain the people during a long siege; and, while the 
 citizens laboured day and night to repair the walls, the 
 gates, and the towers, proclamation was made throughout 
 the town, that every one willing to remain within the walls 
 was to lay in provisions for ten months, and that those who 
 were not able to do so were immediately to quit the city. 
 
 A number of the poor, the women and the children, took 
 advantage of this warning, and abandoned the place ; but, 
 unfortunately, many who should have done so likewise, 
 remained till the English troops appeared before the town, 
 and escape became impossible. It was in the month of 
 June, before the new corn was ready for the sickle, that 
 Henry laid siege to Eouen, and his preparation at once 
 showed his determination not to abandon the attempt under 
 any circumstances. In the midst of the efforts of the 
 besieged to impede his progress, he stretched his camp 
 around the city, and defended his troops with strong lines, 
 while to cut off the possibility of supplies being thrown 
 into the town by water, he drew two lines of strong chains 
 across the Seine, above and below the spot where Itouen 
 rests upon the river. 
 
 Immense efforts were now made by the English to force 
 an entrance, but the defences of the place were so strong, 
 and the defenders so resolute, that no hope appeared of 
 effecting a practicable breach in the walls. Many a sally 
 took place, and many an assault, and many a feat of arms 
 was performed between the two armies. But in the mean 
 time the provisions of the people of the town began, to 
 decrease, and a smaller and smaller portion of food became 
 the allowance of each day. Eeports were spread by the 
 Erench without, to encourage the besieged and dismay the 
 English, that the king and the duke of Burgundy, with an 
 immense force, were marching to raise the siege, or to 
 throw provisions into the city ; but the king was in a state 
 of imbecility, and the duke of Burgundy was too eagerly 
 pursuing his hatred towards the Dauphin to bring effectual 
 succour to Eouen. 'No relief appeared ; and, as the winter 
 began to approach, the scarcity within the walls grew more 
 and more terrible. The ordinary food of man failed alto- 
 gether. Bad water, with a few drops of vinegar to purify 
 
 c 
 
18 nE^ET T. 
 
 it, became the drink of the highest classes. Horseflesh was- 
 a dainty only to be procured by the rich. Dogs, rats, and 
 mice were sold at exorbitant prices ; and still gaunt famine 
 made rapid progress. All the resources that despair could 
 devise were exhausted one. after the other, and it began to 
 be a common tale each morning that two or three had died 
 of hunger in the night. Horror followed upon horror. 
 Infants were seen hanging on the cold breasts of dead 
 mothers in the street, and striving to draw the wonted 
 nourishment from the inanimate clay. The soldiers, whose 
 provision had been more carefully hoarded, at length drove 
 out beyond the walls the starving wretches whom they could 
 not support, while the English soldiers hunted them back 
 to the gates, in order that they might sooner induce the 
 city to capitulate. The gates, however, were closed upon 
 them ; and several hundreds of these miserable beings were 
 suffered to lie out in the cold of the December nights 
 between the besieged city and the English trenches. 
 Henry, however, more than once took compassion on them 
 and sent them food, but, adhering to the cruel policy of war, 
 would not suffer them to pass his camp. At length the 
 inhabitants, by murmurs and threats, compelled the garrison 
 to treat ; and, after a long and painful negotiation, Eouen 
 capitulated, upon terms which could hardly be called unfa- 
 vourable, in the situation to which its defenders were 
 reduced. 
 
 The news of the fall of Eouen had great effect on the rest 
 of Normandy, and twenty-seven towns, or castles, imme- 
 diately niade submission to the king of England, without 
 even being summoned to surrender. Nor was this imme- 
 diate benefit the only advantage which followed the capture 
 of E/Ouen. Dismay and doubt pervaded all Erance, and 
 thoughts of peace and concession were entertained by those 
 who had hitherto breathed nothing but war and defiance to 
 the king of England. Henry, on his part, still demanded 
 the hand of the beautiful Catherine of Erance; and a 
 meeting was agreed upon between the English monarch 
 and his brothers, on the one part, and the queen, the 
 princess, and the duke of Burgundy, on the other. 
 
 The interview was delayed till the middle of April ; but 
 it then took place with great splendour, in an inclosed field, 
 
near Meulan. The news of these events reached the 
 Dauphin, and with them brought the certainty of his own 
 ruin, should the proposed union between the Burgundian 
 faction and the English invaders be carried into effect. In 
 consequence, his first step was to offer peace and amity to 
 the duke of Burgundy; not, in all probability, that he 
 forgot or forgave the past offences of that proud prince, but 
 because he knew that matters of difference must arise 
 between the English and French crowns, which, if the 
 duke of Burgundy w^ere confident of treating with himself, 
 would probably break off the negotiations, by the refusal of 
 King Henry's demands. 
 
 At all events such was the case. The duke, confident of 
 alliance with the prince, would not yield to the higb 
 demands of the English monarch, and the meeting ter- 
 minated unsatisfactorily, though, with much courtesy on all 
 parts. The war was instantly renewed by the English ; and 
 while the Dauphin and the Burgundian leader met and con- 
 cluded a hollow and heartless peace, Henry, seeing that 
 nothing but activity could accomplish his object against the 
 new combination which was formed to oppose him, hurried 
 rapidly on upon the path of conquest he had opened for 
 himself. Poutoise was almost immediately taken by sur- 
 prise, G-isors and Chateau Gaillard fell after a short siege, 
 and the terrific news of the advance of the English reached 
 Paris, and induced the king, the queen, and the duke 
 of Burgundy to abandon the capital and retire to Troyes. 
 
 At this crisis a meeting was proposed between the duke 
 of Burgundy and the Dauphin, to consider the final arrange- 
 ment of all their differences, and the means to be taken 
 against the common enemy. Had good faith or common 
 honesty been observed, a league might have been formed 
 which would have soon expelled the English from the soil of 
 Prance ; but one of the most nefarious pieces of treachery 
 that was ever practised resulted from the confidence which 
 the Burgundian prince placed in the son of his king ; and 
 the consequence was temporary ruin to the kingdom, and a 
 long cause of misery to the prince who committed the deed. 
 After some doubts and persuasions, the duke of Burgundy 
 presented himself at Montereau, and met the Dauphin on 
 the bridge which had been appointed for the place of inter- 
 
 c 2 
 
20 HENEY V. 
 
 view ; but at the moment he was kneeling to do honour to 
 the son of the monarch, he was killed by some of the officers 
 of the prince with bafctle-axes. 
 
 The parties of the Burgundians and the Armagnacs were 
 instantly revived. Philip, count of Charrolois, the only son 
 of the dead duke, in assuming the honours of his father, 
 inherited a greater share of hatred against the Dauphin than 
 ever that father had displayed ; and the first effect of his 
 revenge was the fatal measure of immediate treaty with the 
 English king. During the time spent in negotiation, Henry 
 found that the vengeance sworn by the duke of Burgundy 
 towards the Dauphin, and the hatred borne towards her son 
 by the unnatural queen of France, would easily, if properly 
 turned to advantage, lead him to the object of his ambition. 
 His ambassadors, according to the desire of the French 
 court, were instantly sent to Troyes, where the weak king 
 remained under the guidance of his evil w^ife and her coun- 
 sellors ; and they soon sketched out a treaty by which, on 
 marrying the Princess Catherine, the English monarch 
 should be declared heir to the crown of Prance, to the 
 exclusion of the Dauphin and his lineage. This hasty treaty 
 was as hastily ratified ; and Henry, with fifteen thousand 
 men, departed from E-ouen, and, marching with all speed to 
 Troyes, put the seal to an arrangement which conveyed to 
 him the throne for which he had fought, by marrying 
 the daughter of the Prench monarch. To the first articles 
 proposed was now added, at the request of Henry, that the 
 regency of the kingdom, to the government of which Charles 
 was totally incompetent, should be entrusted to him ; and 
 no sooner was the solemnity of his marriage completed, than 
 he took the field against the Dauphin, leading the unhappy 
 king of Prance and his whole court against the natural heir 
 to the throne. The town of Sens first fell before the arms 
 of England and Burgundy ; and immediately after siege was 
 laid to Montereau, where the assassination of John the 
 Bold* had been committed. 
 
 After a brief siege the town itself was taken by assault ; 
 but the garrison, retreating into the castle, declared they 
 
 * His title is properly John the Fearless (sans pew). We likewise 
 say Charles the Bold, of Burgundy, whereas his proper designation is 
 •Charles the Rash {iemeraire). 
 
KING or ENGLAND. 21 
 
 would defend themselves to the last. The obstinacy of their 
 resistance irritated the English monarch, and hurried him 
 into a piece of cruelty which must not be passed over in 
 silence. A number of prisoners had been taken in the 
 assault of the town, and their lives had certainly been 
 spared at a moment when no quarter was generally given ; 
 but Henry ought to have felt that the only excuse for the 
 cruelties of a storm is the excessive excitement of the 
 soldiery, and that the lives of prisoners made at such a 
 moment should be as secure, when the first violence of 
 angry passions has passed away, as those taken under any 
 other circumstances. From those, however, which had now 
 fallen into his hands, he selected twelve, and, threatening 
 them with death if they did not succeed, sent them to the 
 governor to urge the surrender of the citadel. Their 
 prayers were rejected, the castle still held out, and Henry 
 cruelly ordered his unfortunate missives to be hanged 
 within sight of the gate. Not long after the citadel sur- 
 rendered, and the Eoglish monarch proceeded to the siege 
 of Melun-on-the-Seine, which was at that time strongly 
 fortified, and garrisoned by some of the best troops of the 
 Dauphin's party. 
 
 Its resistance was proportioned to its strength, and for 
 eighteen weeks it set the united army of England and Bur- 
 gundy at defiance. JN'o means, however, were left unemployed 
 by the besiegers to gain the walls ; and though the general 
 course of events was as uninteresting as the events of 
 a siege generally are, it may be noticed, as a curious trait of 
 the warfare of that day, that, in one of the mines which had 
 been counter-mined by the besieged, the king of England 
 and the duke of Burgundy came to close combat with two 
 of the Dauphin's partizans. At length the want of pro- 
 visions forced the town to surrender, and articles of 
 capitulation were agreed to, by which the garrison were to 
 be treated as prisoners of war, excepting such as were hond 
 fide subjects of the king of England, and such as had been 
 accessory to the murder of the duke of Burgundy. These 
 were reserved for punishment ; and, after the surrender of 
 the town, the monarchs and their courts proceeded to 
 Paris, where they were received with joy and acclamations. 
 Eeasts and splendour, songs and rejoicings, resounded 
 
22 HE1!TET V. 
 
 tlirough the capital ; fhe halls smoked with banquets, and 
 the conduits ran with wine ; but it was remarked with 
 a sigh, by the more loyal men of Prance, that their native 
 king sat in solitude and neglect in his palace, while the 
 multitude ran to gaze and shout at the magnificence of the 
 stranger. 
 
 Henry also now took upon him the whole executive 
 power of the government. The governors of towns, the 
 officers of state, the magistrates, and the dignitaries, were 
 placed and displaced at his pleasure. The currency of the 
 country was altered at his suggestion, and his counsels 
 swayed everything in France. However, England was still 
 at his heart ; and leaving a country that his sword and his 
 policy had conquered, as soon as he could do so with any 
 security, he carried his beautiful bride to be crowned in 
 London. 
 
 The moment, however, that his foot was out of Prance 
 his interests in that country declined ; and the rashness of 
 his officers brought confusion and ruin into his affiiirs. 
 Town after town was taken by the Dauphin ; and at length 
 the duke of Clarence, the English monarch's brother, and 
 all the chivalry that accompanied him, were defeated 
 at Baugy in Anjou, the duke himself, as well as three 
 thousand of his men, remaining dead upon the field. This 
 news, accompanied by the farther tidings that the Dauphin 
 was advancing to besiege Chartres, called upon the king 
 imperatively to return to Erance ; and leaving the queen, 
 who was now near her confinement, to follow at a future 
 time, Henry set out for Calais accompanied by four thou- 
 sand men-at-arms and twenty-four thousand archers. 
 
 His coming gave new courage to the Burgundian faction, 
 and struck fear into the followers of the Dauphin. Scarcely 
 pausing at all in the capital, the English monarch advanced 
 direct towards Chartres, before which the Dauphin had 
 already been encamped three weeks; but long ere the English 
 reached the town the gates were free, and the adverse army 
 with all speed retreated towards Touraine. Thither the 
 English monarch folio w^ed, breathing revenge for the death 
 of his brother. Dreux and Beaugeney-sur-Loire were 
 conquered by the way; but after pursuing the Dauphin 
 ineflectually for some time, the scarcity of provisions 
 
KING OF ENGLAND. 23 
 
 obliged him to return towards Normandy. On his march 
 back, he is said to have fallen in with a party of the 
 Armagnac faction, who retreated before him into a castle 
 called Eougemont, which was instantly assailed and taken 
 by the English. All who were within, the French historians 
 assert, to the number of sixty persons, were, by the king's 
 order, drowned in the Loire, a fact which accords too well 
 with the manners of the time and some parts of the 
 monarch's own character.* 
 
 The town of Meaux was the next object of attack, and a 
 long and courageous defence was made by the Dauphinois 
 within. After Henry had lain a considerable time before 
 the city, an attempt was made by a celebrated knight, 
 named Offemont, whom the garrison had invited to com- 
 mand them, to force his way into the town during the night. 
 A ladder had been let down, and the knight with. forty 
 men-at-arms had reached the foot of the walls. One passed 
 after another, but Offemont himself remained below till 
 nearly the whole were in safety. "When, at last, he was in 
 the act of mounting, one of the spokes of the ladder unhap- 
 pily broke under his weight, and he was cast headlong into 
 the ditch below. He was thence drawn out, not by his 
 friends, but by his enemies, whom the noise of his fall and 
 the exclamations of his followers brought to the spot; and 
 he remained for some time a prisoner in the hands of the 
 English. 
 
 About this time the news was brought to the king of the 
 birth of his son, the unfortunate Henry YI. ; and, as soon 
 as possible afterwards, the queen herself hastened to join 
 him, bringing considerable reinforcements under John 
 Duke of Bedford. 
 
 The day after the capture of the lord of Offemont, the 
 town of Meaux itself was taken by assault, but the 
 besieged retreated into a fortified market-place, where they 
 continued to defend themselves. At length, hopeless of 
 aid, and almost at the end of their provisions, they entered 
 into a treaty of capitulation; by which several of their 
 bravest leaders were delivered up to the wrath of the 
 English monarch, who caused them to be put to death. 
 
 * The French historians attribute great ci'uelty to Henry, 
 
24 HENRY 
 
 Against some of these were urged various crimes whicli 
 rendered them worthy of punishment ; but their principal 
 offence was probably their derision of the king, to personate 
 whom, they had at one time brought an ass upon the walls, 
 and making it bray, called to the English to come and 
 succour their monarch. One poor man, however, who was 
 afterwards put to death in Paris, we only find charged with 
 blowing a horn for the besieged. 
 
 The fall of Meaux, like that of Eouen, brought with it 
 the surrender of an immense number of other places, but 
 this was the last great military undertaking which Henry 
 conducted in person. From Meaux he went direct to 
 Vincennes to meet his queen, who was at this time on her 
 journey from Calais, and thence proceeded with the king 
 and queen of France to Paris, where various transactions 
 took place relative to the internal policy of the country. . 
 The court soon removed thence to Senlis, which Henry con- 
 tinued to make his principal abode, till news from the banks 
 of the Loire roused him from inactivity. 
 
 The Dauphin, now finding the English monarch removed 
 from his immediate neighbourhood, again advanced witk 
 all the forces he could gather, and laid siege to Cone^ 
 sur-Loire, then garrisoned by the troops of Burgundy. 
 The town, hard pressed, was obliged to treat, and agreed to 
 surrender, unless the duke of Burgundy should give battle 
 to the Dauphin in its defence, before the 16th day of August 
 ensuing. The tidings were communicated to the duke 
 by the garrison, and at the same time a herald from 
 the Dauphin defied him to the field on the day named. 
 The duke instantly accepted the challenge, and sent to all 
 his allies, as customary on such occasions, begging their aid 
 and support in the day of battle. Amongst the rest he 
 demanded the assistance of forces from the king of England, 
 to be led by such of his famous leaders as he could well 
 spare. Henry, however, though already unwell, declared- 
 that he would send no one to the aid of his good cousin of 
 Burgund}^ but go himself, and accordingly commanded his 
 brother the duke of Bedford, as I have mentioned elsewhere, 
 to lead his troops from Paris and that neighbourhood,., 
 whilst he himself set out from Senlis on horseback. At 
 Melun, however, his sickness had so far increased, that, no^ 
 
KING or 1NGLAND. 25 
 
 longer able to sit on his horse, he attempted to proceed in 
 a litter, but was at length obliged to turn towards 
 Yincennes, where each day brought him nearer to the 
 tomb. 
 
 The duke of Bedford, as I have noticed in the life of that 
 prince, had led the English forces to Cone, from which the 
 Dauphin had already retreated, and the English prince 
 returned just in time to witness the death of his brother. 
 
 Henry was sensible of his danger, and calling his relations 
 around him, made those dispositions which he thought 
 necessary for securing his dominions to his child. He then 
 insisted upon his physicians informing him how long 
 he had to live, and being told that his life could not last 
 much more than two hours, he prepared to meet death with 
 the same courage which he had evinced during life. After 
 going through all the ceremonial duties of the Catholic 
 religion, he commanded some particular psalms to be sung 
 in his chamber, and died very nearly at the time his 
 physicians had predicted. The disease, which cut him off 
 in the career of conquest, has not been clearly ascertained ; 
 the French declaring it to have been St. Anthony's fire, 
 and the English fistula. 
 
 Henry V. was a great conqueror, and a wise, prudent, 
 and politic prince. His two greatest faults seem to have 
 been ambition and cruelty ; the first was an inheritance, 
 and the second, perhaps, was less an efiect of a harsh 
 nature than of hasty passion. We seldom find that he 
 committed any deliberate act of barbarity, and those things 
 which most stain his name were generally done under 
 feelings of great irritation. His conduct to the earl of 
 March, the heir of Eichard II., and the respect he paid to 
 the memory of that unhappy king himself, are proofs 
 of a generous nature ; and of all his conquests, the greatest 
 he ever achieved was the first — that over himself. 
 
£& 
 
 JOHN PLANTAGENET, 
 
 DTJKE or BEDrOED. 
 
 Third son of Henry IV. — Assists his brother in the conquest of France 
 — Witnesses the death of Henry V., and is placed in the government 
 Ox France, for the infant Henry VI. — Marries the sister of the duke 
 of Burgundy — His life passed in one continued struggle for the 
 maintenance of the power of the English in France — ^The siege 
 of Orleans — Joan of Arc, her influence and its results — Bedford's 
 share in her execution doubted — Bedford's first wife dies, and he 
 marries the daughter of the Count de St. Paul — His death. 
 
 Few memorials exist of the early years of the famous duke 
 of Bedford ; and even the precise time of his birth is not 
 very certain. It appears probable, however, from many 
 circumstances, that he was born in 1393. He was the third 
 son of Henry Plantagenet, called Bolingbroke, who wrested 
 the sceptre from the hand of the unhappy Kichard II. ; and 
 at the period of his father's death had not yet reached 
 twenty years of age. His first remarkable feat of arms was 
 the destruction of the French navy in the mouth of the 
 Seine,^ and the relief of Harfleur during the reign of 
 Henry y., some time subsequent to the battle of Agincourt; 
 but his principal military achievements took place after the 
 death of his warlike brother had opened a wider field to the 
 display of his talents for command. During the second 
 invasion of France by Henry V. he remained in England, 
 where he was entrusted with the regency, and conducted 
 himself with wisdom and firmness. On the king^s return, 
 his second brother, the duke of Clarence, was left in com- 
 mand of the army in France ; but being shortly after killed 
 in a battle near Baugy, in Anjou, the duke of Bedford was 
 
 * Monstrelet attributes this feat to Thomas duke of Clarence, his 
 elder brother (Monstrelet, chap, clxvi.), but I am inclined to believe 
 that Hall, and several other English authors; are right in giving it to 
 the duke of Bedford. 
 
JOniT PLANTAGENET. 27 
 
 intrusted to lead the fresli troops which had been levied in 
 England to Calais, and there to wait the arrival of the king 
 himself, who crossed the Channel in May, 1421 ; and after 
 pursuing the luckless Dauphin, afterwards Charles VII., 
 irom province to province and city to city, returned to 
 Paris to spend the winter. Early in the following year, 
 Henry, with the aid of his brother the duke of Bedford, 
 who had in the mean time made fresh levies in England, 
 -applied himself to reduce the whole of the northern part of 
 Erance ; and the Dauphin, finding himself unopposed in the 
 south-west, collected what troops he could, and laid siege to 
 Cone-sur-Loire, which agreed to surrender within ten days, 
 if not relieved before the expiration of that time. 
 
 !N'o sooner did the English monarch hear of this move- 
 ment, than, leaving Senlis with the greater part of his army, 
 he advanced by forced marches towards Touraine. His 
 journey, however, was but short ; for finding himself so far 
 oppressed with illness as to prevent his riding, he first 
 attempted to accompany the army in a litter, and finally 
 was obliged to entrust the enterprise to the care of Bedford, 
 while he himself returned to Yincennes. The endangered 
 -city was speedily relieved by the rapid advance of the duke, 
 who, afterwards hearing that his brother's illness had in- 
 creased, returned with all speed to Paris, and arrived in 
 time to behold the monarch expire. 
 
 According to the last directions of the deceased king, his 
 son Henry YI. was placed under the guardianship of his 
 brother Humphrey duke of Gloucester, Cardinal Beaufort, 
 and Thomas duke of Exeter. The first of these was named 
 Lord Protector, and undertook the difficult task of govern- 
 ing a turbulent country and guiding an unsettled state. 
 'On the duke of Bedford was conferred the government of 
 Erance, the prosecution of the war with the Dauphin, the 
 .control of all the violent factions which had torn the 
 monarchy to pieces, and the retention of a country to 
 which the English monarch had no just claim. 
 
 The unhappy king of the Erench, who had yielded his 
 power and throne to Henry Y., did not long survive his 
 son-in-law, but died on the 22nd of October, 1422. 'Not 
 one of the princes of his own family followed the body of 
 the sovereign to the tomb, and the duke of Bedford alone. 
 
28 JOHN PLANTAGENET, 
 
 the regent of his kingdom for another king, was the only 
 person of royal birth who paid the tribute of respect which 
 was due to the ashes of the dead. 
 
 Immediately afterwards, Henry VI. of England, according 
 to the treaty concluded between the infamous Isabella of 
 Bavaria and the infant monarch's predecessor, was pro- 
 claimed king of France ; and about the same time the 
 Dauphin, who had been stripped of the greater part of hi& 
 territories by the unnatural league between the English and 
 his mother, was crowned at Poictiers as Charles VII. 
 
 Philip, the good duke of Burgundy, still maintained liis 
 league with England, and prepared to pursue the Armagnae 
 faction, by whom his father had been murdered, w^ith hatred 
 more bitter than ever ; and Bedford, thus supported, de- 
 termined on crushing, as soon as possible, the party of the 
 former Dauphin. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs in Erance at this period of 
 that dreadful struggle of a hundred years, which deluged 
 one of the fairest countries in Europe with blood ; but the 
 conduct of Charles VII. himself, and his abandonment of the 
 interests of his kingdom, tended more to strip him of his 
 power than all the efforts of England, seconded by the civil 
 dissensions of his country. 
 
 The latter part of the year 1422, and the whole of the 
 year 1423, saw but few military events of great importance ; 
 though continual and bloody skirmishes, and the capture 
 and retaking of various towns and castles, kept the country 
 in terror and confusion. These, struggles upon the whole, 
 tended considerably to the advantage of the English ; but 
 nevertheless Bedford, well aware of the insecure tie by 
 which his Erench partisans were bound to his cause, trusted 
 not alone to arms for success, but strove by every means in. 
 his power to strengthen his interest with the greater leaders 
 in France. For this purpose he entered into a solemn 
 treaty and brotherhood of arms with Philip duke of 
 Burgundy and John duke of Britanny, the charter of 
 which remains to the present day a curious record of 
 chivalrous customs. To corroborate this association, he- 
 added a more indissoluble alliance, and led to the altar 
 Anne, sister of the duke of Burgundy. Still many of 
 the French nobles, who had adhered firmly to Henry V.,. 
 
DUKE OF BEDFORD. 20 
 
 went over to his rival Charles, as soon as his death and the 
 infancy of his son had rendered it necessary to entrust the 
 power of the state to the hands of a delegate. 
 
 The party of Charles thus continued to increase, although 
 success in all the petty encounters which took place about 
 that time remained with the English. The only one of 
 these encounters, indeed, which deserved the name of a 
 battle, occurred on the occasion of Crevant being besieged 
 by the Scots and Auvergnats of the party of Charles VII. 
 The earls of Salisbury and Suffolk, with Lord Willoughby, 
 were dispatched by the duke of Bedford, on the first news 
 of the danger of Crevant, to aid the Burgundians in raising 
 the siege, when a severe conflict took place, and near 
 three thousand Scots were killed and twelve hundred taken 
 prisoners. The war, however, soon again dwindled into 
 skirmishes, and it was not till the middle of 1424, that suffi- 
 -cient armies could be concentrated by either party to render 
 a general engagement the consequence. 
 
 For some time the English forces had besieged the little 
 town and castle of Ivry in Normandy ; and the governor was 
 at length brought to treaty, when it was agreed, that, unless 
 aid arrived within a certain period, the place should be 
 delivered to the assailants. What particular circumstance 
 rendered the town of importance, does not appear ; but for 
 the purpose of raising the siege, the duke of Alen9on, the 
 count of Aumerle, and other partisans of Charles, collected 
 forces amounting to nearly twenty thousand men, and 
 marched with great rapidity upon Ivry. The news of these 
 movements soon reached the ears of the duke of Bedford ; 
 and, gathering together what troops he could, he advanced 
 to oppose the enemy. Though his forces did not amount 
 to ten thousand men, the duke of Alen^on retreated before 
 him, and after making himself master of Verneuil by stra- 
 tagem, Bedford took up his position in the neighbourhood 
 of that place. 
 
 After the surrender of Ivry, which took place imme- 
 diately, Bedford marched on in pursuit of his enemy, whom 
 he found drawn up in one long line to oppose his passage. 
 No avantguard had been formed by the duke of Alen9on ; 
 but a body of two thousand horse had been posted behind a 
 neighbouring wood, in order to fall upon the rear of the 
 
30 JOH^T PLANTAGEXET, 
 
 English army after the battle bad begun. Whether he had 
 discovered the proposed manoeuvre of the enemj or not, 
 the duke of Bedford took the best means to defeat it ; and 
 finding that the great mass of his opponents were all on 
 foot, he ordered his men-at-arms to dismount also. The 
 horses were then placed in the rear, and being tied toge- 
 ther, formed, with the baggage, a strange sort of fortifica- 
 tion, to defend which he left a body of two thousand archers, 
 together with a number of pages and all the camp-followers. 
 Both the duke of Alencon and the duke of Bedford are 
 said to have addressed their troops in a long speech ; but 
 as these orations of leaders on the field of battle are most 
 frequently the result of their biographer's labours in the 
 cabinet, I have not thought it necessary to copy those attri« 
 buted to the two generals on the present occasion. 
 
 The battle began with the immemorial English cheer, 
 duquel s" emerveillerent moult les Frangais, to use the 
 expression of the Erench historian ; and the two parties 
 joined in a bitter and terrible struggle, which lasted three 
 quarters of an hour without any circumstance evincing that 
 victory leaned to one side or the other. In the mean while, 
 the French reserve issued from behind the wood ; and, as 
 had been concerted, attacked the rear of the English forces ;. 
 but, meeting with a barrier they did not expect, and 
 received with a sharp discharge of missiles, they took flight 
 almost immediately, and abandoned the field altogether. 
 
 The English archers, now finding themselves free from 
 all attacks, and unwearied by any great exertion, advanced to 
 the support of the main body. This reinforcement com- 
 pleted the advantage which the English were beginning to 
 gain. The Erench line was broken in several places, and 
 notwithstanding a prolonged and sturdy resistance, the 
 English, forcing their way on, rendered the confusion of the 
 enemy irremediable, and drove them at last to complete 
 and tumultuous flight. The battle, however, was not 
 gained without severe loss. Sixteen hundred English fell 
 on the field ; but the event was much more fatal to the 
 Erench. They left five thousand dead behind in their flight, 
 and amongst these were a multitude of their noblest 
 knights and most skilful officers. 
 
 The consequences of this victory were of immense im- 
 
DUKE OF BEDFORD. 31 
 
 porfcance to the Englisli. The Prench had no longer any 
 army which could keep the field, and the greater part of 
 Maine and Anjou was speedily conquered. Not without 
 severe struggles, however, were these provinces obtained. 
 Every city, every castle offered resistance, and required a 
 siege ; and, while Charles YII. remained at Poictiers or at 
 Tours, spending his time in dissolute idleness, his nobles by 
 a desultory but obstinate warfare, defended his dominions 
 and delayed the progress of his enemies. 
   Erom time to time some slight successes encouraged the 
 efforts of the French. At the siege of Montargis, which 
 was attacked by the earls of "Warwick and Suffolk, the 
 famous Dunois obtained one of his first advantages over 
 the English. By a well-concerted scheme he surprised and 
 burned the camp of the besiegers, slew near fifteen hundred 
 men, and effectually raised the siege. A misunderstanding 
 also, which arose between Humphrey duke of Grioucester and 
 the duke of Burgundy, about the sovereignty of Elanders,. 
 and which threatened to deprive England of her greatest 
 and best ally in Erance, raised the spirits of the king's 
 party, and encouraged them in resistance. JNTevertheless, 
 the wisdom and prudence of the duke of Bedford averted 
 the danger which menaced his nephew's interest. He posi- 
 tively refused to take part in the quarrel of his brother, and 
 in a jouruey undertaken to England, for the- express pur- 
 pose, remonstrated strongly with the duke of Gloucester on 
 the danger and folly of his pretensions. The decision of 
 the Pope came in aid of his arguments, and Humphrey, 
 though with a bad grace, relinquished his claims upon the 
 contested territory. 
 
 Still the line of the English possessions was gradually 
 advancing towards Touraine and Berry, and in the month 
 of May, 1428, the arrival of the earl of Salisbury with very 
 considerable reinforcements, enabled the duke of Bedford 
 to prosecute the war with increased vigour. 
 
 His principal efforts were instantly directed against 
 Orleans, the position of which on the Loire, if obtained, 
 would have afforded him the most immense facilities for 
 carrying on hostilities against the French monarch. The 
 earl of Salisbury was immediately commanded to lead his 
 forces towards that city ; and, while Bedford continued in 
 
S2 JOHN PLANTAGENET, 
 
 Paris, endeavouring to raise by any means sufficient funds 
 to prosecute his designs with energy, the earl made himself 
 master of Jargeaux, Joinville, Meung, and all the principal 
 places in the neighbourhood of Orleans ; and at length laid 
 siege to that city itself. 
 
 The chief object of the English movements had been so 
 long apparent, that the party of Charles had found no want 
 of time to prepare for defence. Orleans was thus well pro- 
 vided with everything necessary for a long and steady 
 resistance : the suburbs had been demolished ; the country 
 houses round about had been levelled; and nothing had 
 been left which could give shelter to the assailants or cover 
 their attack. A full garrison of the bravest and most 
 -expert soldiers in the army of the king had been thrown 
 into the place ; and food, arms, and ammunition of every 
 kind had been abundantly laid in. In the course of these 
 proceedings twelve churches had been thrown down, and 
 when the English appeared before the place, they found 
 -evident proofs of the determination of their adversaries to 
 defend it to the last extremity. Notwithstanding a tre- 
 mendous lire from the walls, the English approached and 
 encamped so near as to astonish the French garrison, taking 
 possession of the different ruins which had been left, and 
 throwing up works of earth, which is marked particularly 
 by Monstrelet as a custom at that time peculiar to the 
 people of England. A long bridge over the Loire con- 
 nected the city with the southern bank of the river ; and 
 this communication was defended by a strong tall tower, 
 which was the first object of attack on the present occasion. 
 The French who had been thrown into it resisted the 
 English efforts for some time with great resolution ; bu*, 
 were at length forced to yield. The tower and the w^orks 
 by which it was guarded w^ere instantly garrisoned by the 
 English, w^ho now laboured hard to render it available 
 against the city : and Lord Salisbury himself ascended to 
 one of the higher windows to reconnoitre the defences of 
 the town. While in this position, a stone ball from one of 
 the guns, which were now directed upon the tower, entered 
 the very window at which he stood, and striking him on 
 the face, mangled him most dreadfully. Wotwithstandicg 
 the dreadful nature of his wound he continued to linger for 
 
DUKE OF BEDFOED. 33 
 
 eight days, but at leogtli expired universally regretted. His 
 death was a severe loss to the English army, as the earl of 
 Suffolk, who succeeded to the command, was neither equally 
 skilful nor equally beloved. 
 
 At the same time an immense change took place in the 
 councils of Prance. The beautiful Agnes Sorel, whose 
 personal charms had obtained for her immense influence 
 over the mind of Charles Yll., seemed suddenly to wake 
 from the voluptuous dream in which she had lulled both 
 herself and him. The danger of a man she loved, the loss 
 of his dominions and reputation, the horrors to which her 
 country was exposed, and her detestation of a foreign 
 domination, kindled in her bosom a flame of zeal and 
 patriotism which soon communicated itself to that of her 
 lover. Her words, her counsels, her schemes, were all 
 warlike ; her smile was promised to noble deeds against the 
 enemies of the land; and, for once, the salvation of a 
 kingdom w^as the work of a monarch's mistress. Charles 
 saw and appreciated the motives of Agnes Sorel ; he found 
 also that the moment was come to lose all or win all ; and, 
 starting from the couch of luxury and sloth at the voice of 
 her he loved, he prepared to put forth all his energies in the 
 struggle for his crown. His first movement was to dispatch 
 at once all the forces he could collect to the relief of Orleans ; 
 but these consisted of only fifteen hundred men-at-arms, 
 and, though led by the Count d'Eu and the famous Dunois, 
 could effect little beyond cutting off the English convoys 
 and retarding the progress of the siege. 
 
 The French were dispirited ; and an unsuccessful effort 
 made by Dunois to intercept a large supply sent from Paris 
 to the English camp, which brought on the battle of the 
 Herrings — as it was called, from the fish of which the 
 provisions principally consisted — served to lessen their 
 hopes still more. In this battle the elite of their army and 
 of the nobles were defeated by a very inferior force, com- 
 posed chiefly of commons ; and the effect was not only felt 
 in Orleans, but at the court of Charles himself. That 
 monarch had roused himself from apathy, and for a time had 
 made great efforts ; but these efforts had tended to nothing 
 but to bring disgrace upon his arms. His troops were 
 defeated, his finances exhausted, the greater part of his 
 
3'% JOUN PLAKTAGENET, 
 
 country in tlie hands of the enemy ; and, depressed by con- 
 tinual misfortune, his expectations and his energies fell 
 together. The whole population of the country around 
 him was in the same state of despondency, except Agnes 
 Sorel and a small party at the court, who still had hope. 
 The first thing necessary for rendering that hope efficacious, 
 was to rouse the nation and the monarch from despair ; and 
 it really seemed to require something supernatural to 
 procure that result. 
 
 At this time it so happened that an enthusiastic girl, born 
 at Domremy, near Yaucouleurs, in Lorraine, with great 
 personal strength and beauty, considerable talents, a super- 
 stitious turn of mind, and an inflamed imagination, took it 
 into her head that she was directly inspired by the Deity for 
 the deliverance of France. After considerable difficulties, 
 she made her way to the court ; and her purpose and belief 
 being spread abroad, she was gladly encouraged and assisted 
 by the patriotic few who still resolved to maintain the 
 struggle against England. Agnes and her friends well 
 knew what an immense engine is superstition acting on the 
 public mind ; and they gave to Joan of Arc every means of 
 persuading the people of her state of inspiration, and of 
 stimulating her own imagination to greater enthusiasm. 
 "Whether, the king himself was party to this policy, can 
 liardly now be discovered ; bat it is very clear that all the 
 pompous means he took to satisfy himself, as it appeared, of 
 the truth of Joan of Arc's history, the purity of her person, 
 and the reality of her communication with superior beings, 
 tended most shrewdly to spread her fame and to inflame the 
 public mind in her favour. 
 
 Herself fully convinced of the reality of her visions, the 
 Maid of Orleans found little difficulty in convincing others. 
 Armed at all points, in the garb of a man, bearing a con- 
 secrated banner, and followed by a chosen troop of knights 
 and soldiers, Joan of Arc was permitted to throw herself 
 into Orleans. This she accomplished without loss, carrying 
 Tith her a large supply of provisions and ammunition. Of 
 v^'ourse the English and the French accounts differ as to the 
 manner in w^hich this feat was accomplished. The first 
 declare that these supplies were led into the city during the 
 night, and in the midst of a tremendous thunder-storm. 
 
DUKE OF BEDFOED. 35 
 
 The last affirm that she passed within sight of the English 
 works in the open day. As it is not my present business to 
 write the history of the Maid of Orleans, it is sufficient to 
 say that she entered the city ; and having, on three several 
 days, attacked and defeated the English in their various 
 works, she forced them to raise the siege with very great 
 loss. 
 
 After such successes, extraordinary in any age, even 
 allowing for the newly-roused enthusiasm of the French 
 soldiers, no one ever thought in that day of doubting that 
 Joan of Arc was inspired by some supernatural power. The 
 only question was, whether the spirit that animated her was 
 good or bad ; and each party judged of it as they found it. 
 The French declared that she w^as sent by God ; the English 
 protested that she was leagued with the devil; but each 
 believed her to possess more than human gifts ; and the 
 consequences of this conviction on the minds of both armies 
 tended to the same point. The French were exalted to the 
 skies with triumph and hope ; and the English, though not 
 quite abashed to the other extreme, lost the confidence of 
 continual victory, and the strength which that confidence 
 inspired. 
 
 A multitude of English had perished in the siege of 
 Orleans ; and Lord Suffolk divided the remnant of his 
 forces, retreating himself with one part to Jargeau, while 
 the famous Talbot led another division to Meung. Not 
 above four hundred men are said to have accompanied 
 Suflfolk to Jargeau ; and although the duke of Bedford made 
 every eflfort to succour him, the victorious French arrived 
 before the English aid from Paris could approach, and sur- 
 rounded the city with a force now swelled to nearly eight 
 thousand men. Sufifolk, however, resolved to defend the 
 town to the utmost ; and, with the inconsiderable force he 
 could assemble, underwent a severe assault, resisting the 
 whole power of his adversaries for several hours, till a fourth 
 storming party made their way in by a post which had been 
 neglected, and further resistance became vain. 
 
 The greater part of the English were slain, amongst whom 
 was a brother of the earl of Suffolk. Another brotlier was 
 taken with that nobleman himself, and they became, with 
 the other survivors, prisoners of war. Beaugeney almost 
 
 D 2 
 
36 JOHN PLANTAGENET, 
 
 immediately submitted ; and Talbot, retiring from Meung, 
 retreated with his small force towards Paris. 
 
 In the mean time the duke of Bedford strained every 
 nerve to raise money and levy men ; but it was in vain. The 
 stream was running against him. Nothing was heard of 
 throuf!;h all France but the prodigies of Joan of Arc. The 
 French ranks increased every day, and no effort could obtain 
 for the English a sufficient number of men to meet thfe 
 enemy with anything like equality. Some succour, however^ 
 he could not refuse to send to Talbot ; and accordingly he 
 drained Paris of the greater part of the troops which were 
 destined at once to defend and overawe it, and dispatched 
 them with all speed towards the marches of Orleans. 
 
 Scarcely had these troops effected their junction with 
 those of Talbot, when they were attacked by the Frencb 
 army under the duke of Alen9on, near Patay. The strife 
 was very unequal, the French forces being at least three 
 times the number of the English, and animated with the 
 presence of the Maid of Orleans. The English also were 
 taken by surprise ; and before the archers could plant their 
 stakes, as was their custom, to defend themselves from the 
 charge of the cavalry, the French men-at-arms were amongst 
 them. At the same time, a sudden panic seized the wing 
 of the army commanded by the gallant Sir John Fastolfe ;. 
 and, turning their bridles, they fled from the field at full 
 speed, leaving the infantry to be slaughtered by the enemy. 
 [Notwithstanding this defection in the very moment of 
 need, the foot soldiers maintained the fight with desperate 
 valour; and the victory of the French was by no means 
 decided till Talbot himself fell into their hands severely 
 wounded. 
 
 Such continued success inspired the French court with 
 bold counsels ; and, as Joan of Arc still urged the monarch 
 to proceed to Kheims, whither she promised to conduct him 
 in safety and see him crowned, Charles determined to take 
 his fortune at the flood and venture onward. Collecting, 
 therefore, as strong an army as he could, which far 
 exceeded any that the English could bring against him, he 
 inarched forward towards Bheims, making himself master 
 of Auxerre, Troyes, and Chalons, by the way. Eheims, 
 after some hesitation, received the monarch also; and 
 
DUKE OF BEDFORD. 37 
 
 the extraordinary promise of the Maid of Orleans was 
 verified by his coronation in that city, after having been 
 led by her from victory to victory, from the first day of her 
 appearance in arms, till the hour of his receiving, in the 
 usual place, the crown of the kings of Prance. 
 
 The tidings of these events came thick and fast to 
 the duke of Bedford ; and every effort in the power of man 
 was made by that prince to remedy the disastrous position 
 of the English party in Prance. The first step was to call 
 to his aid the duke of Burgundy, who immediately pro- 
 -ceeded to Paris; and, after long deliberations it was 
 determined that while the Burgundian faction used every 
 ^flfort to weaken the power of Charles, and to divide his 
 army, the duke of Bedford should take the field with 
 all the troops he could collect and force his enemy to 
 a battle. To supply the want of men, which was every day 
 more and more felt, a body of four thousand soldiers, whom 
 the Cardinal Beaufort had collected to lead into Bohemia, 
 were stayed on the way and brought to Paris. This 
 succour enabled the duke of Bedford to oppose ten thou- 
 sand men to the power of Prance ; and though the Prench 
 forces were still infinitely superior in number, the most 
 brilliant English victories had been won with far greater 
 disparity, so that he hesitated not at once to seek his 
 adversary. Marching, accordingly, upon Montereau, he 
 approached the hostile army almost immediately after 
 'Chateau Thiery had surrendered, and instantly dispatched 
 a formal defiance to the king. 
 
 Charles boldly bade the herald tell his master that 
 the king of Prance would seek the duke of Bedford sooner 
 than the duke of Bedford would seek him : but the 
 monarch's actions did not correspond with his words on the 
 present occasion. Policy got the better of anger, and 
 he determined not to fight. His affairs were at that 
 moment in a more prosperous condition than they had been 
 for many years ; city after city was yielding to him, noble 
 after noble was coming over to his party, and the evident 
 folly of risking all upon one battle, determined him to 
 »act solely upon the defensive, wearing out his enemy 
 by marches and skirmishes, and gaining his partizans 
 by promises and negotiations. 
 
38 JOIIX PLAj^TA GENET, 
 
 On advancing from Montereau, the duke of Bedford soors 
 found that the enemy had marched on; and, following 
 his steps with all speed, he came up with him near Senlis. 
 Here Charles paused, and the aspect of the French army, 
 its great numerical superiority, and its resolute halt, con- 
 vinced the duke of Bedford that his adversary would give 
 him battle. His dispositions were immediately made, and 
 taking up a strong position, with his rear and flanks guarded 
 by thick hedges, he placed the archers in front, each 
 of whom planted his stake in the ground before him, while- 
 the cavahy, in one great mass behind, were ready to support 
 the infantry as soon as the battle began. 
 
 The French king also made his arrangements as if with 
 the design of fighting, but, after two days spent in skirmishes, 
 with the purpose of drawing the English out of their posi- 
 tion, the French king withdrew his men during the night, 
 and retreated towards Brie. In the meanwhile information 
 was brought to the duke of Bedford that the constable de 
 E/ichemont, who had abandoned the English party, was 
 marching in force upon Evreux, and threatened the whole 
 of Normandy. A choice of diflSculties was now before him. 
 If he quitted the neighbourhood of Paris, the king was still 
 sufl&ciently near to overrun the whole country round, 
 and assail the capital : but if he neglected the movements 
 of de E/ichemont, Normandy, the oldest and most valuable 
 of the English possessions in France, drained of her 
 garrisons and her best soldiers, lay exposed to the march of 
 the French. Although he greatly doubted the faith of the 
 Parisians, he nevertheless determined upon marching 
 towards Eouen, leaving behind him in Paris a sufficient 
 garrison, commanded by some of his bravest partisans, 
 resolving, if that city should fall, to concentrate his forces in 
 Normandy, and defend this province to the last. 
 
 No sooner was his march known, than Charles once more 
 advanced ; and at his approach almost all the neighbouring 
 cities submitted. Compiegne led the way, and nine others 
 immediately followed; but the possession of the capital was 
 still wanting, and the great importance of that object 
 caused the monarch to hurry forward without taking advan- 
 tage of the friendly disposition evinced by many other 
 towns of Picardv and Artois. 
 
DUKE or BEDFOrwD. 39 
 
 At Paris, however, his successes received a cheek. The 
 duke of Alen9on, accompanied by Joan of Arc, began tlie 
 assault on the gate of St. Honore ; but after a conflict 
 of five hours the army of the king was totally repulsed, and 
 the heroine of Orleans, severely wounded, was left for dead 
 in the ditch of the city till night, when she was sought and 
 carried back to the camp. This repulse instantly depressed 
 the spirits of the assailants ; and retreating to Senlis, 
 the monarch abandoned the attempt. 
 
 At the same time, the duke of Bedford, whose march had 
 averted the danger from Normandy, returned with all speed 
 towards Paris. Another and stronger motive for haste was 
 now added to those which had before recalled him to the 
 capital. JSTews had reached him that Charles YII. had sent 
 ambassadors to the duke of Burgundy to negotiate a peace ; 
 and that, though the duke still affected attachment to the 
 interest of England, the ambassadors had been favourably 
 received and dismissed with honour. This new source of 
 grief and anxiety seems to have been soon dispelled ; for 
 shortly after, we find that the duke of Burgundy rejoined 
 his brother-in-law in Paris, after having taken measures to 
 maintain some of the wavering provinces in their obedience 
 to the general league. There appears, indeed, some reason 
 to imagine, that, in return for his continued support, Philip 
 of Burgundy required that Paris should be put under his 
 government, which was done not long after ; but, whatever 
 were the motives, the doubts of the duke of Bedford in 
 regard to the Burgundians were removed for the time ; dis- 
 pleasure and division now disappeared from their counsels, 
 and the preparations for the ensuing campaign were such as 
 to threaten the French monarch with a renewal of all those 
 misfortunes which he had formerly undergone. Finding 
 that the hopes of winning Paris, or of negotiating with the 
 duke of Burgundy, were equally vain, Charles determined 
 once more to turn his steps southward, and, leaving strong 
 garrisons in all the towns he had captured, he retreated with 
 the rest of his army to Touraine. 
 
 Early in the ensuing year the dukes of Bedford and 
 Burgundy were prepared to take the field ; and proceeded 
 with all speed to reconquer the fortresses which Charles had 
 won in the preceding year. The first of these assailed 
 
40 JOniT PLANTAOENET, 
 
 by the commands of the duke of Eedford, was Chateau 
 Guillard, whose position, commanding the valley of the 
 Seine, rendered it of immense importance to the free com- 
 munication between Paris and Eouen. Several months 
 were consumed in the siege of that place ; but in the mean- 
 time Torcy and Aumale were taken; and continual but 
 desultor}'" warfare was pursued in the field, which served to 
 waste and destroy the country without procuring any 
 ultimate benefit to either party. The successes of the 
 English were in some degree balanced by the loss of 
 Louviers, which was taken by assault ; but at the same time 
 continual news reached the duke of Bedford of the progress 
 of the Burgundians, who made themselves masters of 
 Gournay and Choisy-sur-Oise. 
 
 About this time also, Joan of Arc, whose continual 
 activity and enthusiasm were the great support of the 
 Prench party, accompanied by about four hundred horse, 
 encountered and took the famous Franquet d' Arras; and 
 notwithstanding the absurd praises which have been be- 
 stowed upon her by the French for clemency and humanity, 
 struck oft' his head in cold blood after the battle. 
 
 Her career, however, was by this time nearly at an end. 
 The duke of Burgundy had advanced to besiege Compiegne, 
 into which the Maid of Orleans had thrown herself. His 
 troops were scattered through the difierent villages in the 
 neighbourhood ; and before the place was regularly invested 
 Joan of Arc determined to beat up some of the enemy's 
 quarters in the neighbourhood of Marigny. She accord- 
 ingly sallied forth with a considerable force towards dusk, 
 feeling sure of finding the Burgundians disarmed and un- 
 prepared ; but it so happened that John of Luxembourg, 
 with several other commanders, had at that moment visited 
 the quarters at Marigny for the purpose of reconnoitring 
 the town and determining the plan of attack. 
 
 Finding herself received more warmly than she had an- 
 ticipated, Joan of Arc endeavoured to lead her troops back 
 to the city. But every moment fresh enemies sprang up 
 upon her path ; and fighting boldly in the rear of her flying 
 forces, she was taken along with the principal men-at-arms 
 who accompanied her. The assertion that the gates of the 
 city were 'treacherously closed upon her is borne out by no 
 
DUKE OP BEDFORD. 41 
 
 testimony whatever. Monstrelet declares that she was 
 pulled from her horse by an archer, which tallies with the 
 account of St. E^emy the herald. However that might be, 
 she was delivered by the duke of Eurgundy to the English 
 government, on the payment of her ransom, and carried to 
 Bouen, where an inquisition was summoned to try her for 
 witchcraft and heresy. 
 
 Notwithstanding the failure of their first sally, the French 
 <jontinued to defend Compiegne for several months ; and at 
 length the arrival of a considerable army to its relief com- 
 pelled the Burgundians and English to raise the siege. 
 
 It would be impossible, without very long details, to 
 arrange properly all the events of the desultory warfare 
 which now took place throughout Erance. The partisans 
 of the Duke of Bedford made themselves masters of 
 Dammartin, Brie-Comte-Robert, Quesnoy, Grandpuys, and 
 Rampellon, while the Erench acquired Melun, Corbie, and 
 several other places. Both parties, at the same time, 
 endeavoured to strengthen their cause by those adventitious 
 circumstances which, by a general though indirect influence, 
 very often decide the event of great struggles. The Erench, 
 on their part, sought out some one to keep up in the minds 
 of the people the enthusiasm which had been excited by 
 Joan of Arc, and for thij purpose pitched upon an unhappy 
 shepherd, who was easily persuaded to affect inspiration. 
 The contrivance, however, was so shallow that it had no 
 effect. The shepherd, in his very first expedition, with 
 a number of knights and eight hundred men-at-arms, was 
 encountered by the earl of Warwick with an inferior force, 
 defeated, taken, and cruelly drowned in the Seine. Eor the 
 purpose of giving a new turn to the national feeling in 
 Erance, which, since the death of Henry V., had been 
 decidedly alienated from the English, the Duke of Bedford 
 strongly advised that the young king, then decked with all 
 the heart-winning graces of extreme youth, should be sent 
 over to claim the throne, which by treaty, though not by 
 right, was his inheritance. This request was immediately 
 complied with ; and in the course of the summer Henry VI., 
 escorted by a considerable force, landed at Calais, and 
 proceeded by easy journeys to Rouen. 
 
 The good effects which might have accrued from his 
 
42 jonjf pla:n'tageis"et, 
 
 arrival were unhappily neutralized by an act of cruelty 
 which about this time was perpetrated, and which will 
 remain to all ages a stain upon the British name. I allude 
 to the trial and execution of the unhappy Maid of Orleans. 
 It would be quite foreign to my subject to enter into all the 
 details of that famous act of barbarity ; and it is perhaps 
 only necessary to show that although after ages attributed 
 this shameful severity solely to the duke of Bedford, because 
 he was at that time regent of France — if he had in reality 
 any share at all in it (which it must be presumed he had), he 
 took as little part therein as any other member of the royal 
 council, and less than many others not so immediately con-^ 
 nected with the administration. IS'o chronicle, Prench, 
 English, or Burgundian — contemporary, or for a century 
 succeeding — ever accused the duke of Bedford of taking any 
 active part in the proceedings on that occasion. The trial 
 was conducted by command of the council of the king, who 
 was then in France ; but the active agents who carried the 
 process to its disgraceful termination were two priests — the . 
 bishop of Beauvais and the grand inquisitor. JSTor can 
 there be the least doubt that, though unworthy vengeance 
 might have its part in the death of the Maid of Orleans, re- 
 ligious fanaticism and the maniac wrath of superstitious zeal,, 
 had also a principal share in that disgraceful transaction. 
 
 On no motives can the act be defended. If Joan was an 
 impostor, she was still a prisoner of war, the subject of 
 another country, and the accusation under which she was 
 condemned — that of sorcery — was false. If she was but a 
 wild enthusiast, restraint was all that could be legally 
 inflicted on her; and if inspired by any spirit to do the 
 deeds that she had done, it must surely have been the spirit 
 of God which prompted her to free her native land and to 
 drive forth the usurper. Such acts have often been com- 
 mitted, it is true, in the spirit of that most sacrilegious 
 vanity, religious intolerance; and it is but too probable- 
 that, in more instances than that of the persecution of 
 Servetus by Calvin, personal revenge has given pioint and 
 virulence to the wild fury of bigotry. The case of the- 
 Maid of Orleans, however, is singular, inasmuch as the 
 principle which mingled with superstitious fanaticism in th& 
 proceedings against her was national, not personal, revenge- 
 
DUKE OF BEDFORD. 43 
 
 The disgrace of this transaction remains upon all those who 
 formed the council of Henry YI. at that moment ; and the 
 duke of Bedford was of course culpable as a member of 
 that body.* 
 
 From Eouen the young king of England was removed to 
 Paris, w^here he w^as crowned as monarch of the country he 
 was about to lose ; and after a short space of time, during 
 which several sharp discussions arose between the duke of 
 Bedford and Cardinal Beaufort, Henry was again brought 
 to E-ouen, and thence returned to England. A truce of six 
 months had by this time been concluded at the intercession 
 of the papal legate; and the duke of Bedford accompanied 
 his royal nephew as far as Calais, where evident signs of 
 revolt began to manifest themselves. After having quieted 
 that part of the country, and punished severely several of 
 the conspirators, the duke turned his steps towards Paris ^ 
 but a domestic misfortune, destined in its consequences to 
 prove more disastrous to the English power in France than 
 any military loss, changed his purpose. After the death of 
 Henry Y., the shaken alliance between the Burguudian 
 faction in France and the government of England had been 
 cemented by the marriage of the duke of Bedford to tho 
 sister of the duke of Burgundy ; and though many motives 
 existed to induce her brother to forget the wrongs which his 
 family had suffered, and to return to his allegiance to his 
 natural sovereign, the influence of the duchess of Bedford 
 had been sufficient to keep him the partizan of her husband's- 
 administration. 
 
 During the absence of Bedford, however, with the young 
 king, the duchess expired in childbed ; and from that moment 
 the attachment of the house of Burgundy to the family of 
 Plantagenet began to decline. At first no distinct act of 
 hostility announced the Duke's alienation from the English 
 cause, though a growing coolness soon became sufficiently 
 evident. The war also against Charles YII. was carried on 
 perhaps with greater spirit by both parties, because it was^ 
 drawing near its conclusion. 
 
 * The fact of the execution itself is now doubted by most intelligent 
 French writers ; and Joan is said to have survived these events many 
 years, to have married, and left a posterity honoured by the nation.— 
 Editor- 
 
44 JOHN PLANTAGENET, 
 
 At the same time a new alliance, formed by the duke of 
 Bedford with the house of Luxembourg, tended still 
 farther to estrange the Duke of Burgundy; and the very 
 means taken by the Kegent to strengthen his party — with 
 the frequent fate of human policy — was the cause of its 
 destruction. English writers affirm that he was persuaded 
 to contract this new marriage with the daughter of the 
 count de St. Paul by Louis of Luxembourg, bishop of 
 Terouanne and uncle to the bride ; but certain it is that 
 the step so taken was most ruinous to the English party. 
 
 The war, which the truce had but little suspended, was 
 «oon openly renewed, and carried on with advantage very 
 nearly equal on either side. Towns were taken and re- 
 taken continually, and a thousand skirmishes, in which 
 the English were victors to-day and the Erench to-morrow, 
 prolonged the war, but tended little towards success. 
 
 At length the duke of Bedford himself determined to lay 
 siege to Lagny-sur-Marne ; and on this occasion the invest- 
 ment of the place was carried on in a much more regular 
 and scientific manner, than we find practised in any of the 
 sieges which preceded it during his administration. A 
 bridge of boats was thrown across the river to facilitate 
 the communication of the assailants on either side ; and so 
 strict was the blockade, that for many weeks no provisions 
 of any kind could be thrown into the place. But after a 
 time the famous Dunois, with all the forces he could collect, 
 . inarched to the relief of the town ; and the duke eagerly 
 caught at the hope of bringing the Erench to a battle. 
 
 Dunois availed himself of this disposition in his adversary, 
 drew up his men in order of battle, and with his light 
 troops kept up a sharp skirmish with the English, under 
 cover of which he threw sufficient supplies into the town. 
 He then at once withdrew, leaving the duke of Bedford to 
 find out and regret the error he had committed. The con- 
 sequences of that error were soon apparent, and so deeply 
 mortified was the duke with the event, that he was seized 
 with a violent attack of illness from which he never fully 
 recovered. 
 
 As the enemy menaced the capital, he was soon obliged 
 to withdraw his troops from the siege of Lagny and march 
 to Paris. After this he had the satisfaction of seeing the 
 
DUKE Olf BEDEOED. 45- 
 
 famous Talbot, who had been enlarged by exchange, arrive 
 from England with considerable reinforcements ; and for a 
 time spread consternation and defeat among the French. 
 But this gratification was more than counterbalanced by the 
 defection of the duke of Burgundy. Several efforts had been 
 made to reconcile him to Bedford ; and in one instance 
 they both visited St. Omer for the purpose of conferring 
 with each other; but difficulties and disputes arose even 
 before they met ; and, though in the same town, they de- 
 parted without personal communication. Long cares and 
 anxieties of mind had depressed the duke of Bedford, and 
 the inflammation by which he had been attacked after 
 leaving Lagny, had shaken his constitution. But the nego- 
 tiations entered into between the duke of Burgundy and 
 the French king, the hopeless state of the English affairs in 
 France, and the turbulence which was beginning to show 
 itself in every part of the territory under his dominion, 
 overcame him quite ; and he ended a busy and agitated life 
 at Eouen, on the 14th of September, 1435, precisely ona 
 week before the definitive treaty of peace was signed 
 between his adversary Charles VII. and nia former ally the 
 duke of Burgundy. 
 
4C 
 
 GONZALVES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 THE GREAT CAPTAIIf. 
 
 Bom in Cordoba in 1443 — From his splendour, actions, and attain- 
 ments, styled the "Prince of Men" — Conquest of Granada — Marries 
 — In great iavour with Ferdinaud and Isabella — Reduces Calabria — 
 Enters Rome in triumph, and addresses a bold and noble speech to 
 the pope, Alexander VI. — Remarkable siege of Barbetta — Enters 
 Naples in triumph — Arrests Caesar Borgia — Isabella dies, and his 
 
 . favour with Ferdinand declines — Dies 2nd December, 1515 — Great 
 honours paid to his memory — His character. 
 
 In the history of the world a stronger example is not to be 
 found of the strange vicissitudes to which the fates of 
 nations, as well as the fates of men, are subject, than in the 
 case of Spain — a country in whose vast decrepitude we can 
 now no more trace the chivalrous daring of hor youth, 
 ■or the vigorous influence of her prime, than we can call up, 
 in the lean and slippered pantaloon, the lover or the soldier 
 of life's earlier acts. 
 
 True, indeed, that a flash of the fire of other days breaks 
 forth from time to time, when the iron hand of oppression 
 strikes too boldly on the petrified hearts of the Iberian 
 people ; but the momentary blaze is no longer that which 
 kindled a whole nation and shed a bright illuminating 
 lustre over a former period. 
 
 Though not flourishing in that early time when chivalry 
 and romance invested the profession of arms with a vague 
 and dream-like splendour; and when the swords of the 
 noblest knights of Europe were drawn to free Spain, their 
 native land, from a foreign and infidel yoke ; but still, 
 living in the better days of that fair land, when first con- 
 solidated into one monarchy, she took a leading part in all 
 the great events of the world, Gonzalves of Cordoba was 
 called upon to mingle in a torrent of mighty events, and to 
 struggle for greatness with many competitors. He first 
 
GOIS^ZALYES DE CORDOBA. 47 
 
 •saw the light in Cordoba, a city of Andalusia, which gave 
 name to his family and to himself, and was born in 1443. 
 He was a younger son, and consequently, though inheriting 
 a noble name — at that time the greatest stimulus to noble 
 actions — he received from his ancestors but little of that 
 worldly wealth which sometimes smooths the first steps in 
 the road to glory, but as often retards them. 
 
 Though the principles' on which government was then 
 carried on, of course, greatly affected individuals of high 
 station, it would be tedious and unnecessary here to 
 trace the rise of the feudal system, or to point out the 
 peculiar characteristics of its development in Spain. Sufiice 
 it that there, as well as in other countries, the power of the 
 monarch, though unlimited by precise restriction, extended 
 but little to the internal regulation of his dominions, and 
 that he was rather the head of a powerful confederacy 
 of nobles, than the governor of a united and obedient 
 people. The consequences of such a system were, naturally, 
 a thousand feuds and divisions between the various nobles 
 themselves, oppression of the lower classes, and faction 
 amongst the great. 
 
 Nor were these factions encouraged between distinct 
 houses alone. The family of Cordoba, like many others, 
 was divided into two great branches; that of Cabra and 
 that of Aguilar ; and between them existed a jealous com- 
 petition and an inheritance of hatred, which often troubled 
 the peace of the government, and dyed the streets of 
 the city with kindred blood. 
 
 The branch of Aguilar, fertile of great names in all ages, 
 gave birth to Gonzalves, who was the second son of 
 Pedro Hernandez de Cordoba, Lord of Aguilar, by the 
 beautiful Elvira de Herera. His earlier years were spent 
 at Cordoba, under the guidance of his brother, who, though 
 but a few years older than himself, was soon called by the 
 death of their father to uphold the honour and splendour 
 of their house against all the efforts of the rival faction. It 
 is probable that in this school the young Gronzalves first 
 learned to combine the idea of honour and distinction with 
 luxury and display, and first put forth and exercised that 
 spirit of chivalrous daring which well excused any appear- 
 ance of an idle love of pomp. 
 
48 GO:JfZALVES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 Of his early education we have no very certain records^ 
 but it seems that, though military exercises formed a very 
 principal part of his studies, as indeed they did in that of 
 every young noble of the day, yet polite learning and the 
 gentler arts were not neglected by his instructors; and we 
 find that to the graces of his person and conversation h& 
 first owed that distinction at court which afterwards opened 
 the way to his military glory. 
 
 At that period Spain was divided into a number of 
 distinct monarchies, and no probability seemed to exist 
 that the genius and prudence of one man would soon unite 
 the principal part of them into one great sovereignty never 
 to be separated again. Tiiis, however, w^as accomplished 
 by Ferdinand of Arragon : and as the deeds of Gronzalves 
 aided not a little to promote his vast schemes of aggran- 
 dizement, it ma}^ be as w^ell to trace briefly his first steps 
 towards the immense power he afterwards acquired. 
 
 Henr}^, king of Castile, though twice married, remained 
 without any children except one daughter, Joan, whose 
 legitimacy was more than doubted by the great bulk of the 
 Castilian people. His brother Alphonso, taking advantage 
 of the discontent of the nobles, scrupled not to proclaim 
 Joan illegitimate, and having made the first steps in rebel- 
 lion against his king with impunity, was easily hurried on 
 hj the passions and intrigues of others, to gratify his 
 own ambition by snatching at the crown. Henry, a weak 
 and favourite-governed prince, was generally either hated^ 
 or what is still more dangerous to a monarch, despised;, 
 and in the civil w^ar which ensued between himself and his 
 brother, he found that even the strong support of posses- 
 sion was hardly sufiicient to counterbalance the contempt 
 of his people. Various battles were given with difierent 
 success, and the balance of fortune seemed to turn rather in 
 favour of Alphonso, when his death, some say by poison^ 
 and others by the plague, arrested him in his progress 
 of crime, ambition, and success. 
 
 The nobles of Castile, resolved not to recognise Joan, of 
 whose spurious birth they felt assured, now proclaimed 
 Isabella, sisterof Henry and Alpho-nso, the presumptive heir 
 to the crown ; and many were the princes of Europe 
 who eagerlv contended for her hand. 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 49 
 
 Isabella's was indeed a hand that many a prince might 
 €ovet, if the report of contemporary historians may at 
 all be credited. She was beautiful, graceful, modest, 
 prudent ; with masculine firmness tempered by female 
 gentleness, and great conceptions concealed by unpre- 
 tending humility. Unfortunately, however, too much 
 reason exists to believe that such qualities, in the eyes 
 of princes, form but small portions of a woman's dowcr; 
 and those who sought Isabella probably strove far more for 
 the presumed heiress of Castile than the lovely lady 
 or the wise princess. 
 
 Amongst the aspirants was Ferdinand, son of John king 
 of Arragon, handsome, accomplished, graceful, and engag- 
 ing ; and we may, without doing her wrong, suppose that 
 such a reputation affected Isabella's determination in 
 his favour as much as the proximity of the dominions 
 he was to inherit to those of her ancestors, or the talents 
 and wisdom he had already displayed. 
 
 The cold fault of over prudence was in after-years 
 conspicuous in the character of Ferdinand; but, at the 
 period of his life to which we refer at present, the fire 
 of youth and enterprise still burned brightly in his breast, 
 and no sooner was Isabella's consent signified to him 
 than he set out for Castile, with three horsemen only, to 
 secure the treasure he had won. The heart of a woman 
 already gained could hardly fail to feel deeply gratified 
 with such ardent haste ; and Isabella, within two days 
 after his arrival, bestowed on him secretly the hand she had 
 promised. The anger of Henry, at the marriage of his 
 sister without his knowledge or approbation, was of course 
 great in proportion to his weakness. His death, however, 
 soon followed ; but, as he declared upon his dying-bed, with 
 every solemn asseveration which could win credit to his 
 words, that the Princess Joan was truly his child, and as 
 he further made a will declaring her heiress to his whole 
 dominions, Ferdinand and Isabella found themselves obliged 
 to contend in arms for territories they probably had expected 
 to possess more easily. 
 
 Although the majority of the people of Castile were 
 decidedly opposed to the unhappy Princess Joan; and 
 though the infamous conduct of her mother contributed to 
 
50 GO]S"ZALTES DE COEDOEA, 
 
 accredit all reports against her birth, yet her pretensions- 
 were strong in themselves and strongly put ; nor did she 
 want partisans, either amongst her countrymen or amongst 
 foreigners. Part of Old Castile declared in her favour; 
 and Alphonso king of Portugal pretended to her hand, and 
 assorted her right in arms. 
 
 Ferdinand and Isabella, however, were already in pos- 
 session of almost all Castile, and perfectly in condition to 
 repel force by force. The court of Isabella, as queen of 
 Castile and Leon, was established at Segovia, and to this 
 court had been called, at the very commencement of her 
 reign, the young Gonzalves of Cordoba, who by his excel- 
 lence in all the military games of the day, and the extrava- 
 gant splendour of 5iis train and appearance, had already 
 acquired the name of " the Prince of Young Men." 
 
 In the civil wars between Henry and Alphonso, the 
 family of Aguilar had attached itself strongly to the younger 
 brother, and Gonzalves had been one of the first ornaments 
 of his court. The reputation that he there acquired is given 
 by the writers of the day as Isabella's sole motive for 
 endeavouring to attach him to her interests; but it is 
 probable that in every instance she strove to call around 
 her all the old adherents of Alphonso, and to strengthen 
 her own party in the state by that which he had previously 
 formed. However that may be, it is certain that no sooner 
 was Henry dead than Gonzalves was summoned to Segovia, 
 and, as we have said, distinguished himself at first only by 
 pomp above his station and expense beyond his means. 
 
 "With a fortune less than moderate, his expenditure 
 exceeded those of the richest nobles of the court. Purple 
 and gold, and rare furs, formed his ordinary apparel ; and to 
 all remonstrance he replied by prophecies of his future 
 fortune and praises of splendour, mistaking, as was common 
 in that age, display and pomp for greatness and dignity, 
 and confounding magnificence of appearance with magna- 
 nimity of feeling. 
 
 Many a man has thus gone on scattering his fortune to 
 the wind, and still looking for some happy blast to blow it 
 back with interest, till all was gone. But Gonzalves was 
 more successful : for though ere any path to fortune opened 
 before him he had spent more than his all, and piled ii 
 
THE GSEAT CAPTAIH^. 51 
 
 load of debt upon his head ; yet, in the end, the means of 
 retrieving came, and he used them to the most extraordinary 
 effect. 
 
 The war for the crown offered him the first opportunity 
 of signalizing himself; and here he showed, on every occa- 
 sion, that the handsome person which he was so studious to 
 ornament he was but little careful to risk. No skirmish, 
 no attack, no battle, was without his presence ; and the 
 noble -figure and splendid arms of Gonzalves de Cordoba 
 Aguilar were ever seen where resistance was greatest and 
 the danger most imminent. It is reported, that after the 
 battle of Toro, in which the Portuguese were completely 
 defeated, the duke of Cardona, under whom Gonzalves 
 served at the time, called the young hero to his presence, 
 and thanked him publicly for his services during the day ; 
 observing at the same time, that he had traced the splendid 
 arms which he bore throughout the battle, and had always 
 found them where the fight most raged and blood flowed 
 fastest. 
 
 It was not alone at Toro that the Portuguese were 
 defeated: for though carrying on the war with spirit,, and 
 in some instances with success, they lost ground upon the 
 whole ; and had also the mortification of finding that all 
 hope of establishing a powerful party in Castile became less 
 and less probable each day. 
 
 At length Joan herself, wearied with causing so much 
 blood to flow, and . despairing of ultimate success, sought 
 peace in a convent, abandoning her hopes of the thorny 
 honours of royalty. Perdinand and Isabella found them- 
 selves securely seated on the throne of Castile ; and, in a 
 brief space, the crown of Arragon also was placed on their 
 brows. All Spain, except the narrow portion of Navarre 
 and the Moorish kingdom of Granada, was now under their 
 dominion ; and ambition having once held its magic glass 
 to their eyes, wide prospects of aggrandizement and power 
 spread out before them in the distance. 
 
 Nearly eight centuries had passed since the Saracens first 
 established themselves in Spain ; and after various vicissi- 
 tudes, having been a thousand times the conquerors and the 
 conquered, they were now reduced within the limits of the 
 small but beautiful kingdom of Granada, situated on the sea- 
 
 E 2 
 
52 GOIfZALTES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 coast between Murcia and Andalusia. Many a bard, in 
 many a language, has sung the beauty of its valleys, the 
 sweet fertility of its soil, and the splendid purity of its air ; 
 and the Moors who inhabited it, were attached to it with all 
 the love which an imaginative and ardent people feel towards 
 lovely scenes bound to their hearts by the indestructible 
 associations of infancy, the memories of home, and the 
 records of patrimonial glory. How such a people would 
 fight for such a land, was, of course, a necessary part of the 
 calculation to be entered into before endeavouring to dis- 
 possess them ; and for some time Ferdinand hesitated to 
 attack them, though little doubt can exist that he meditated 
 from the first adding Granada to Castile. At length, how- 
 ever, an aggression on their part ofi*ered a fair excuse ; and 
 political divisions amongst themselves afibrded a good oppor- 
 tunity. The interest of religion yielded bot?i an excitement 
 to zeal and a cloak to ambition : and the war against the 
 Moors was undertaken more as an enthusiastic crusade than 
 as a political invasion. 
 
 The resistance of the Moors was palsied by the unwise 
 dissensions of their chiefs. The weakness of Boabdil the 
 king, and the ambition of Al Zagal his uncle, were equally 
 disastrous to the country they struggled to govern. The 
 capital city itself was divided between the two factions, 
 each holding armed possession of the portion it had obtained; 
 and while the one thought of nothing but destroying its 
 rival, the politic enemy of both advanced steadily to his 
 object. Mutual danger itself did not serve to awaken them 
 fully from the blind stupor of mutual hatred ; and an empire 
 was lost to their race for ever while thev contended for its 
 government from day to day. 
 
 One of the most elegant writers that ever honoured any 
 language having lately given a history of the fall of Gra- 
 nada, and his book being in the library of every one, it is 
 ^innecessary here to enter into the details of Ferdinand's 
 successful invasion any further than the exploits of Gon- 
 zalves de Cordoba are immediately concerned. 
 
 At the siege of Tagara we first find him commanding in 
 an afiair of importance; and as he here displayed in a 
 etriking manner those qualities which afterwards so highly 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIIT. 53 
 
 distinguished him, I shall pause to enter into fuller details 
 than I shall often permit myself hereafter. 
 
 As a town Tagara was by no means strong, but its 
 citadel, both from its position and its fortifications, had 
 hitherto been judged almost impregnable ; and being 
 situated between Alhama and Loxa, the one already in the 
 hands of Perdinand, and the other besieged by him, its 
 possession became an object of great importance to the 
 invading army. 
 
 Pressed vigorously by the Spanish forces, the Moorish 
 garrison of Tagara soon found it necessary to abandon the 
 town, and throw themselves into the citadel; but here, 
 trusting to their high rock and to ample stores, they set 
 the army of Ferdinand at defiance. 
 
 In the Spanish council opinions were much divided as 
 to whether it would be wiser to prosecute the siege of a 
 place which possessed so many means of defending itself 
 and of harassing the attacking force, or to leave it, and 
 proceed to some other object, where the fruits of success 
 would more amply compensate the risk of the endeavour. 
 It was, however, at length determined to cut ofl^ all 
 supplies, leaving time and famine to do the work of war ; 
 and, at his own earnest entreaty, the charge of reducing 
 the citadel was entrusted to Gronzalves de Cordoba. The 
 method he took to effect his object, was perhaps not pre- 
 cisely that contemplated by those he served ; but success 
 justified him, and what w^ould have been his fault had he 
 failed, now became his glory. 
 
 The principal objection to proceeding more rapidly 
 against the citadel had been the difficulty of all approach. 
 The fortress itself stood detached ; the ground round about 
 was rocky and impenetrable ; no trench could be opened, 
 and no earth could be found to fill the gabions, so that the 
 Spanish troops who attempted to advance were exposed to 
 a shower of arrows from which there was no possibility of 
 escape. No sooner, however, was the reduction of the 
 place entrusted to Gonzalves, than he caused the troops to 
 carry off all the doors of the houses in the town, and 
 of these he constructed an immense number of mant- 
 lets, or large wooden shields, under cover of each of which 
 
54 GOllfZALVES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 five or six soldiers could march forward in comparative 
 safety. 
 
 To give these additional thickness, so as to deaden the 
 missiles of the enemy, without increasing the weight of tlie 
 mantlet, he seized a large quantity of bee-hives made of the 
 bark of the cork-tree, with which that country abounds, 
 and lined his portable defences with the materials This 
 being done, advance was no longer difficult; and putting 
 himself at their head, he led his soldiers to the attack. The 
 Moors defended themselves for some time with great reso- 
 lution, but at length intimidated by the boldness and obsti- 
 nacy of their assailants, they offered to capitulate. In 
 negotiating with the governor Gronzalves evinced as much 
 keen sagacity as he had before shown military skill in 
 availing himself of the means of attack which had escaped 
 much older officers than himself A treaty was concluded 
 between them, in w^hich the interest of Perdinand was cer- 
 tainly far more considered than that of the Moors ; and the 
 governor returned to the citadel to announce the conditions 
 to the garrison. The terms, however, were too hard to be 
 accepted by brave men whose defences were yet in their 
 own hands, and who had still the same means of resistance 
 with w^hich they first undertook to hold out the place. The 
 capitulation w^as immediately refused by the garrison, and 
 the attack recommenced with redoubled fury. The reputa- 
 tion of Gronzalves was now at stake, and leading his 
 soldiers again and again to the assault, he ceased not for a 
 moment till the walls were carried, and the Castilians 
 entered the citadel pell-mell with the Moors. As in the 
 case of all fortresses taken by storm, the principal part of 
 the garrison were put to the sword. Those that escaped 
 were reserved for a worse fate — slavery — after beholding the 
 citadel they had defended rased to the ground, and the 
 homes for which they had fought consumed to ashes. 
 
 The star of Gonzalves's military fame was now in the 
 ascendant, and the siege of Ilora was almost immediately 
 entrusted to his skill. Success followed him, and, after a 
 vigorous and rapid attack, he entered into negotiations with 
 the governor for the capitulation of the place. The terms 
 that he offered were probably favourable, for little difficulty 
 seems to have been raised on the part of the Moors on this 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAI^T. 5i> 
 
 occasion ; but it is still more certain that they were 
 highly advantageous to Spain, as Perdinand confirmed 
 them without a moment's hesitation, and immediately 
 bestowed upon Gonzalves the goyernment of the citj he 
 had captured. 
 
 Gonzalves instantly took possession of the place with a 
 strong garrison ; and now the daring activity of his genius 
 displayed itself in its true light. Ilora was situated but a 
 few leagues from the city of Granada itself, and, from the 
 moment that Gonzalves had once established himself within 
 its walls, the Moors were never one day without hearing 
 some news of their dangerous and indefatigable neighbour. 
 The necessary provisions could scarcely be brought from 
 the adjacent country towards the capital without falling 
 into his hands. A detachment could not leave the gates 
 Avithout being attacked and defeated, the neighbourhood 
 was swept of its produce, the towns and villages round 
 about were laid in ashes, the mills were destroyed, the 
 bridges . broken, and even the gates of Granada itself 
 •assailed and burned, while its warlike population remained 
 immovable within its walls, in doubt and astonishment 
 never believing that any one would dare to present himsell 
 so boldly without having secret assurance of traitorous 
 support from within. 
 
 By such exploits as these, Gonzalves first acquired from 
 the Moors the title of the Great Captain, to distinguish 
 him from the rest of the Spanish officers, possessed possibly, 
 of equal courage, but less activity and daring. 
 
 Success now followed success, and fortress after fortress 
 fell into his hands, till scarcely a strong place between 
 Ilora and Granada remained in possession of the Moors. 
 I^^or did he meet with opposition or obstruction from the 
 various Spanish officers who commanded in other cities 
 lately fallen into the hands of Spain, though in most in- 
 stances they were older in service and superior in military 
 rank to himself The genius of Gonzalves was of that 
 commanding kind, sometimes, but not often seen, which 
 convinces without argument, leads without persuasion, and 
 which men seem intuitively to obey. Thus, without th& 
 right of commanding, he directed almost all the operations 
 in the immediate neighbourhood of Granada, till the arriva 
 
56 GONZALYES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 of Ferdinand himself, with larger forces, reduced the whol® 
 country round to the dominion of Spain, and placed the 
 city itself in a state of siege. 
 
 Long before this time the the internal divisions of the 
 Moors had rendered Granada, as I have already said, the 
 scene of many bloody contests ; and Boabdil had even 
 entered into a truce with Spain for the purpose of putting 
 down the faction of his uncle. Gronzalves had been fixed 
 upon as the negotiator of this treaty, had entered into 
 Granada with large forces, and, after having nearly de- 
 stroyed the party of Al Zagal, had, with honourable fidelity, 
 withdrawn his troops at the first desire of Boabdil. Hi a 
 reputation, therefore, amongst the Moors, was fully as 
 brilliant as it was in the eyes of his own countrymen ; and 
 happily it was not alone the reputation of courage or of 
 skill, but also the reputation of unswerving integrity- 
 Thus, when, after a long-protracted siege, Granada could 
 no longer be held out, and Boabdil found it necessary to 
 resign the power and the kingdom which his own weakness 
 had sufiered to crumble from his grasp, Gonzalves, we ar© 
 told, was the person to whom he first applied to negotiate 
 the terms on which the fallen monarch would yield his last 
 hold on the sceptre of his ancestors. Always fearless of his 
 own person, Gonzalves ventured himself almost alone into 
 the heart of the Moorish city, at the request of Boabdil, 
 and there arranged the terms of capitulation. 
 
 The first operation of great success upon the heart of 
 man is not unfrequently productive of that sort of expan^ 
 sion of feeling, which brings about for the time all the 
 efiects of generosity of spirit, in minds to which generosity 
 is habitually a stranger. Whether this was the case with 
 Ferdinand on the capitulation of Granada, or whether his 
 heart had not yet been contracted and stiffened by the 
 petrifying torrent of prosperous ambition, which afterwards 
 taught him to exact all and to grant little, may be a matter 
 of doubt. He consented, however, through the mediation 
 of Gonzalves, to such terms with the unhappy monarch of 
 the Moors as to win for him a reputation of magnanimity^, 
 of which, on many other occasions, he evinced but little. 
 
 Granada surrendered, Boabdil retired to Almeria, Fer- 
 dinand and Isabella entered the city with cross and spear,. 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAII?-. 5T 
 
 and the dominion of the   Saracens ended in Spain for 
 ever. 
 
 It appears that some time previous to the fall of Granada, 
 though the precise period is neither important nor ascer- 
 tainable, Gonzalves had taken to wife the daughter of a 
 family equally noble and ostentatious with his own. An 
 anecdote, however, is related of him about this time, which 
 shows that he knew how to turn the taste for splendour in 
 which the members of his house were wont to indulge, to* 
 most courtier-like account. Isabella of Castile on almost 
 all occasions followed her husband Perdinand to the field, 
 and failed not to be present at the siege of Granada, the 
 consummation of a crusade instigated, as some writers 
 assert, by herself. Though sleeping, like the rest of the 
 army, in the field, royal magnificence followed the queen 
 into the camp, and her tent, fitted up with all the wealth 
 and luxury of a court, wanted little of a palace but the- 
 name. 
 
 A short time before the capitulation of the city an acci- 
 dental spark set fire to the combustible materials of the 
 queen's pavilion; and, in an instant, not only the whole of 
 its gorgeous furniture but also the entire wardrobe of the 
 princess was destroyed, and she herself forced to fly from 
 the flames in very unceremonious disarray. 
 
 The wife of Gonzalves had been left at Ilora, the seat of her 
 husband's government, which, as we have previously stated^ 
 was situated at a short distance from the gates of Granada ;, 
 and Gonzalves, on the first news of the accident, instantly 
 dispatched messengers thither in order to repair the- 
 queen's loss as far as his means would permit. His house- 
 hold was by no means found unprepared ; and, before the 
 year was a day older, the queen was surprised to see all that 
 she had lost replaced with a magnificence only so far infe- 
 rior as to free the tribute of respect from all suspicion of 
 rivalry. 
 
 Such attentions are never without their effect on the hearfc 
 of a woman, though that woman be a queen, and a great 
 one ; and happy it is for a nation when the man who knows- 
 how to time them well to his sovereign merits her esteem 
 as well as Gonzalves de Cordoba did. 
 
 All that Isabella said, in return for the present of Gon- 
 
^8 GOIs^ZALYES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 zalves, was, " It must have been a most malicious fire last 
 night, senor, since after burning down my pavilion it went 
 on to ravage thus your lady's wardrobe." But the fortune 
 of Gonzalves was made. There are many men who can 
 compel esteem, or win love, or command admiration ; but it 
 is the meed of few to unite the graces that attract with 
 both the qualities that attach and the talents that command. 
 Such, however, was the case with Gronzalves of Cordoba, if 
 w^e are to believe the writers of the time ; and there are 
 many concurrent circumstances which give evidence in 
 favour of their statements. It is true that most of those 
 who have written the life of the great captain have left us 
 a panegyric instead of a biography ; but we find his talents 
 proved both by the success of his arms and the success of 
 his negotiations. The graces of his person and the urbanity 
 of his manners we may infer from the favour of Ferdinand 
 and Isabella, the duration of which also shows it to have 
 been based on something more solid than caprice. Nor can 
 the extravagance of the praises bestowed upon his merits 
 render them doubtful in any degree, when we find the 
 extravagance common to many and the merits allowed by 
 all. The tongue of scandal, of course, attributed the 
 -extreme regard evinced towards him by the queen to 
 warmer feelings than those of simple esteem ; but as this 
 belief tended to gratify two of the most ordinary bad pas- 
 sions in human nature, envy and malice — the one by detract- 
 ing from the merits of Gonzalves, the other by blackening 
 the character of the queen — we may reasonably look upon 
 the report, in the absence of all proof, as the offspring of 
 that commonplace malignity which loves to stain all that 
 is purer than itself. 
 
 However that may be, a new and vast theatre was about 
 to open before Gonzalves and to afford a wider scene for 
 the display of his splendid talents. Several of those many 
 unforeseen contingencies which always sooner or later render 
 treaties of no avail, had created a separation of interest 
 between Erance and Spain which rendered war inevitable. 
 The scene preparing for hostilities was that devoted country 
 which seems in a former age to have been intoxicated with 
 glory that in this she might experience all the consequent 
 debility — Italy. 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIlf. 59 
 
 Charles YIII., of France, had easily found to the king- 
 dom of Naples one of the many claims which ambition has 
 always ready prepared to justify great robberies. He had 
 collected his army, marched in triumph through the Italian 
 states, taken possession of Naples, conquered sufficient 
 obstacles to elate his pride to the highest pitch, and assumed 
 the vain title of emperor and Augustus, and then found his 
 retreat cut off by a confederacy of princes enraged at his 
 arrogance and alarmed by his success. Charles, however, 
 marched undauntedly to meet their array, commanded by 
 the marquis of Mantua. It was nearly five times stronger 
 than his own, and well posted in such a position as to 
 entirely obstruct his passage towards France. With that 
 boldness which is sometimes temerity, sometimes valour, 
 and is generally judged, though often falsely, by the event, 
 Charles resolved to force his passage, and not only succeeded, 
 but completely defeated the enemy's forces. Having thus 
 closed a short campaign of five months, in which triumph 
 had been continual, by an unequal strife and a splendid 
 victory, he returned to France, leaving sufficient forces at 
 Naples to render his conquest, as he thought, secure. 
 
 The niece of Ferdinand, king of Spain, however, had been 
 married some short time before to Ferdinand the younger, 
 king of Naples, whom Charles YIII. had dispossessed ; and 
 the sovereign of Castile and Arragon declared himself bound 
 to maintain the quarrel of his relation. Whether Ferdinand 
 was originally influenced by motives of family attachment, 
 or whether ambition was the primary and sole motive for 
 his rupture with France, can hardly be discovered ; but soon 
 after the conquest of Naples by that power he sent an 
 ambassador to the court of Charles to demand immediate 
 restitution of the dominions he had usurped, and to declare 
 war in case of a refusal. 
 
 War was of course preferred, and Ferdinand, having 
 prepared a fleet at Carthagena, embarked a small but well- 
 disciplined army, the command of which was given, at the 
 oxpress request of Isabella, to Gronzalves de Cordoba. 
 Gonzalves landed his army safely at Messina, and was 
 immediately surrounded by the princes of the deposed 
 family, who had taken refuge in Sicily. The first care of 
 the Spanish general was to investigate, with the keenest 
 
60 GONZA.LYES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 acumen, the state in which Charles had left the kingdom of 
 Naples ; and having satisfied himself on all points, increased 
 his army by all the troops he could raise in Sicily, and 
 determined the line of conduct it was necessary to pursue, 
 he called the king of Naples and his supporters to a council, 
 rather for the purpose of persuading them to acquiesce in 
 his designs than of demanding their opinions. 
 
 It was proposed by some that the Spanish and Sicilian 
 armies, being inferior in number to the French troops left 
 in possession of Naples, and the inhabitants of that kingdom 
 also having already sufficiently marked their disaffection to 
 Ferdinand by delivering up city after city to his enemies, 
 without drawing a sword or shedding a drop of blood in 
 defence of their country — it was proposed that the Spanish 
 and Sicilian armies should content themselves, for the time, 
 with keeping possession of Sicily till their prospect of 
 success should be brightened by some increase of power. 
 The very first speech of Gronzalves, however, decided the 
 question in the minds of all. He declared that it was his 
 purpose to reconquer the whole of Naples. He showed 
 that the greater part of the cities in that country had been 
 left without garrisons, that the fortresses were unfurnished 
 with provisions, that the troops were insubordinate and dis* 
 contented for . want of pay. Charles, he said, had been 
 successful ; but he did not know how to profit by success. 
 He had conquered Naples, it was true ; but he had taken no 
 measure to maintain his conquest. He had degraded and 
 pillaged the chief people of the country ; he had wasted 
 even the stores and ammunition he had found prepared ; he 
 had disappointed the expectations and excited the hatred of 
 the Neapolitans ; and he had left the French without order, 
 without supplies, and without defence. 
 
 It was for them, Gonzalves said, to profit by the faults of 
 the French monarch, to seize the moment before those faults 
 were remedied, to land in Naples, to court the afiections of 
 the people, to strike boldly at their invaders, and to struggle 
 nobly for the recovery of their rights. Success, he said, was 
 not so difficult of attainment as it seemed ; but even should 
 misfortune await them, they could but return by the ports 
 he would take care to secure in the first place ; and then, 
 with the consciousness of having attempted great deeds, 
 
THE GEE AT CAPTAHS". 61 
 
 wait better fortune in Sicily, more confident in their own 
 tried strength, and more formidable to their enemies. 
 
 No opposition was made. The troops were embarked at 
 Messina, and landed without difficulty at Eeggio, the inhabi- 
 tants of which town immediately took arms in favour of 
 Ferdinand, and forced the French garrison to seek refuge 
 in one of the fortresses. Aware of the importance of a first 
 stroke, Gonzalves immediately attacked the fortress with 
 that active vigour which he displayed on every occasion. 
 
 After having defended themselves for some time, the 
 garrison declared their intention of capitulating, and de- 
 manded a truce of seven days, urging that they could not 
 honourably surrender without an order from the commander- 
 in-chief of Calabria. The pretence seemed to Gonzalves so 
 shallow that at first he refused to grant their demand ; and 
 it was only at the solicitation of the Sicilians who accom- 
 panied him that he at last consented. His conduct in 
 regard to this truce has been severely censured by some 
 and boldly defended by others ; and therefore it is necessary 
 to pause for a moment at this part of his history. The 
 account of this siege, as given by his enemies, is, that 
 he granted the garrison a truce, and before it had expired 
 attacked them within their walls, and put the greater part 
 of them to the sword. But other writers state, and bring 
 good proof in confirmation, that before the second day of 
 the truce had expired Gonzalves found that he had been 
 deceived by the French garrison; that, instead of dream- 
 ing of capitulation, their time was employed in constructing 
 interior fortifications ; and that they had sent through the 
 whole country demanding succour and giving information 
 of his arrival, rather than asking the permission of any one 
 to surrender. Still Gonzalves, they declare, jealous of his 
 high honour, would not turn their treachery against them- 
 selves, until, insolent in their security, they themselves 
 broke the truce by firing several volleys upon a body of 
 Spaniards that imprudently showed themselves in an 
 undefended position. 
 
 It is one of the simplest principles of all rational law, that 
 no engagement can be binding on one party which has been 
 broken by the other ; and therefore, if the statement of his 
 friends be true, Gonzalves was justified in considering the 
 
62 GOXZALYES DE C0ED015A, 
 
 truce at an end as soon as he discovered absolutely that it 
 had been turned to the purposes of fraud. The violence 
 offered by the French also completely exculpated him, if the 
 same statement be correct ; and that it is so can hardly he 
 doubted by any one who considers the life of Gonzalves as a 
 v^hole. Could the man whose honour was so undoubted, 
 that Boabdil, the king of G-ranada, admitted him with all 
 his forces into the heart of his city, and who retired at that 
 monarch's first request— though oaths to an infidel would 
 soon have met with absolution, and the breach of them with 
 high applause — though power, wealth, and glory would 
 have gilded the treachery, and ambition would have smiled 
 on him for ever — could the man by whom such objects were 
 never felt even as temptations sully a bright name, and 
 sully it but once, to gain a petty fortress for a stranger ? I 
 do not believe that human nature, wdth all its inconsisten- 
 cies, is capable of having produced such a dereliction 1 Had 
 the object been one of great importance to his own sove- 
 reign, and had the express orders of that sovereign instigated 
 him to break the treaty, by what was in that age considered 
 a paramount duty — obedience to his king — it may be reason- 
 ably believed, from various after actions, that Gronzalves 
 would have infringed his engagement with the besieged, 
 rather than have violated his oath of implicit submission 
 to the commands of the monarch. "Where no such plea 
 existed, however, we never find that G'onzalves neglected to 
 perform his promise as an individual ; and certainly, had he 
 done so, it would not have been for a petty fortress that 
 could make no prolonged or efiectual resistance. 
 
 ISTo sooner had the Prench permitted themselves thus 
 openly to infringe the truce than G-onzalves ordered a 
 general attack, which was successful in several points. The 
 w^alls were almost immediately taken; and the internal 
 defences, w^hich the French were found in the act of con- 
 structing, protected them but little against the fury of the 
 Spaniards. 
 
 Several other successes followed, and Gonzalves led Fer- 
 dinand the younger on triumphantly towards the heart of 
 his kingdom. A severe reverse awaited them, however, at 
 a tower called Seminara, before they had proceeded far on 
 their victorious march. The city itself had surrendered 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAI^^ Q^ 
 
 upon their approach, and the burgesses had driven out the 
 i'rench garrison at one gate while they admitted the 
 Spaniards and Sicilians by the other. But the news of 
 their approach had spread through the country, and the 
 rumour of their rapid progress at once aroused the French 
 from their inactivity. D'Aubigny, to whom the govern- 
 ment of Calabria had been entrusted, lost no time in 
 collecting as strong a body of troops as he could ; and, 
 feeling the necessity of prompt and decisive measures 
 against an enemy so vigilant and active as Gronzalves had 
 proved himself, he marched directly to meet the army of 
 Ferdinand, which he came up with at Seminara. 
 
 His forces were much inferior in number to the Spanish 
 and Sicilian troops, but they were far better disciplined; 
 and Gronzalves, feeling the greatness of the stake for which 
 they played, strongly counselled Ferdinand to remain 
 within the walls of the town, and refrain from meeting the 
 enemy in battle. He represented that on the greater part 
 of their troops they could not rely, while the French were 
 sure, bold, and veteran. He pointed out how ruinous a 
 defeat would prove to their army, and how discouraging to 
 their partisans throughout the country, and he strongly 
 advised him carefully to guard what he had boldly won, and 
 to let the impatient spirit of the French nation weary itself 
 in inaction, till their very impetuosity afforded some oppor- 
 tunity of taking them at a disadvantage. 
 
 His counsel, however, was rejected. Ferdinand, elated 
 with, success and confident of victory, descended from the 
 heights of Seminara and met D'Aubigny in the plain. In 
 less than an hour his cavalry was dispersed, his infantry 
 defeated, and though Gonzalves did all that human pru- 
 dence could do to nisure his safety, yet Ferdinand himself 
 narrowly escaped falling into the hands of the enemy, and 
 reached the walls of Seminara covered with shame and 
 disappointment. 
 
 A prompt retreat necessarily followed, and it was pro- 
 bably only owing to the sudden illness of D'Aubigny, that 
 the Spanish army did not find itself invested in Seminara. 
 The French commander, however, overpowered by lassitude 
 and illness, could not press his victory or follow up his 
 success. Gronzalves and Ferdinand retired to Eeggio ; and 
 
C4j gonzalyes de coedoba, 
 
 soon found that the capricious smile of fortune was not 
 irretrievably lost to their arms. 
 
 The people of Naples, fatigued with the exactions and 
 arrogance of the French, resolved to cast off the yoke to 
 which they had at first so willingly submitted, and to recall 
 the monarch from whose authority they had withdrawn. 
 Ferdinand received private notice of their intentions in his 
 favour, with a promise, that as soon as he should appear 
 with a fleet in the Bay of Naples, the citizens would imme- 
 diately declare in his favour, and expel the French from 
 the town. 
 
 Amongst all the baubles of fortune there is none that 
 the great children of the ^arth catch at with so much blind 
 eagerness as power, notwithstanding all its intrinsic uncer- 
 tainty and its host of concomitant cares. Ferdinand instantly 
 prepared to grasp the ofler of the Neapolitans. Leaving 
 Gronzalves in Eeggio, he made what head he could in Sicily, 
 had recourse to prayer, supplication, promises, and force, 
 to collect together a fleet ; and, in a very short space, 
 .appeared before Naples with eighty sail of transports. 
 
 To his surprise, however, all was tranquil in the city, the 
 French in undisturbed possession, and not the least sign of 
 tumult or revolt. Cursing his folly in trusting to a fickle 
 people who had before so grossly deceived him, the de- 
 throned monarch turned away from the shore, and prepared 
 to retrace his course to Sicily. 
 
 Scarcely, however was he out of the bay, when the fleet 
 was joined by a felucca, despatched by the principal people 
 of Naples to assure him of their fidelity, and to promise that 
 if he would but disembark a sufficient number of men to 
 draw the count de Montpensier, the French viceroy, from 
 the walls, they would take advantage of that nobleman's 
 absence to secure possession of the city. 
 
 Fortunately for Ferdinand he once more confided in the 
 Neapolitans, and resolved to hazard the attempt. Sixteen 
 hundred men w^ere accordingly landed at a short distance 
 from Naples, and by skilful manoeuvres, not only drew the 
 count de Montpensier with the principal part of his forces 
 out of the city, but engaged him so long, that the French 
 troops he left within the walls, anxious for his safety, sallied 
 forth, notwithstanding the express commands he had giv»n 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTATIS". 65 
 
 to the contrary ; and Naples was left entirely in the hands 
 of the malcontents. The people immediately rose, the 
 gates were shut upon the French, and Montpensier, 
 finding his error, hastened to effect his retreat into the 
 castle, where he contrived to defend himself for more than 
 three months, though not the least provision had been made 
 on .the part of France against so unexpected a disaster. 
 In this imminent danger Montpensier summoned all the 
 French troops in the south of Italy to his aid. D'Aubigny 
 still suffering from illness, could not quit Calabria, but he 
 immediately despatched a strong reinforcement to the 
 viceroy which attempted to force its way to Naples, and 
 twice defeated the troops of Ferdinand opposed to it. The 
 obstacles, however, were too great. Famine began to show 
 itself in the garrison, and Montpensier was fain by strata- 
 gem to effect his escape by night, and retired to Salerno, 
 leaving Naples completely in the hands of Ferdinand. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Gonzalves of Cordoba was not inac- 
 tive. He marked the moment that d'Aubigny weakened 
 his forces to succour the count de Montpensier, and he 
 seized it with the eagerness of one who knows that the 
 eyes of a suspicious and unconfiding master are upon him, 
 ready ever to attribute misfortune to incapacity. The troops 
 of Spain had been defeated at Seminara, and Gronzalves, the 
 moment he could do so with prudence, issued forth from 
 Heggio to wipe out the disgrace of having failed, even in an 
 attempt he had deprecated, by the most brilliant success 
 in a campaign left to the guidance of his own judgment. 
 
 Seminara was immediately retaken. Terranuova, Nicastro, 
 and Crotona followed ; and, in an amazingly short time, he had 
 extended his conquests to the coast of the Ionian sea. At 
 Nicastro, hpw^ever, he received notice that Ferdinand held 
 the count de Montpensier besieged in Atello, and desired 
 his immediate aid to bring the siege to a fortunate and 
 speedy conclusion. Gronzalves had laid out other plans ; 
 the complete conquest of Calabria was before him, and an 
 infinitely greater share of individual glory was to be won by 
 pursuing his first design than by joining Ferdinand and in- 
 volving himself in enterprises the conduct of which he could 
 not command, and where the honour of success was to be 
 divided with another, though the responsibility of failure 
 
 IT 
 
QQ GONZALVES DE COllDOBA, 
 
 fell heavily on himself, l^ot with standing these considera- 
 tions, Gronzalves determined upon joining Ferdinand— rin 
 this instance, as in every other, sacrificing his own private 
 views to the grand object of the cause he had undertaken. 
 
 His march, however, to form a junction with the young 
 king, proved to the full as glorious as even the conquest of 
 Calabria could have been. Either by force, by opinion, or 
 by fear, one town after another submitted to him. The 
 French were defeated wherever they opposed him, and 
 indeed, so quick were his combinations and so rapid were 
 his movements, that opposition had but little time to pre- 
 pare itself; and, though the army nobly seconded his 
 efforts, the glory acquired rested far more with the skill of 
 the general than with the courage of the soldiers. The 
 forest of Morano indeed, through which he w^as obliged to 
 pass from Castrovillare, had been filled with a large body of 
 armed peasantry attached to the interest of the French ; 
 and had Gonzalves taken the narrow encumbered road, at 
 that time the only way by w^liich it could be traversed, his 
 army must have infallibly perished by the many am.buscades 
 wdth which his path was surrounded. 
 
 Information of this stratagem, however, had by some 
 means been conveyed to him ; and practising with his 
 army an operation common in Spanish hunting parties, he 
 divided his iofantry into three bodies, caused them to ex- 
 tend themselves round the forest as I'ar as possible, and 
 then, with a certain order and concerted signals, to close in 
 gradually towards one common centre, thus enveloping 
 the enemy as in a net. The success of this scheme was 
 complete. Attacked from a quarter they did not expect, the 
 peasantry armed for his destruction were themselves almost 
 all taken or killed ; and the consternation caused by this bold 
 manoeuvre was so great in Morano that the town opened its 
 gates to him without striking a stroke. 
 
 A similar stratagem put him in possession of Laine, the 
 French garrison of which, secure in its strong position, had 
 taken but little care to guard against the approach of an 
 enemy. The attack was made at night, and so well had Gon- 
 zalves concerted his measures, and so badly had the French 
 prepared for resistance, that before the garrison were even 
 aware of their coming the Spanish army were in possession . 
 
THE GHEAT CAPTAITq-. 67 
 
 of the town and the bridge. The citadel also, but little 
 provided for defence, surrendered almost immediately ; and 
 Gonzalves pursued his way in triumph to the camp of Per- 
 dinand. 
 
 By this time the confederates, who, as I before stated, 
 had been defeated by Charles Vlll. of Erance in his re- 
 treat from JSTaples, had again made head, and had joined 
 the king of Naples before the walls of Atello. 
 
 Gonzalves, therefore, found that city completely invested; 
 but though the count de Montpensier was surrounded on all 
 sides, and but little hope of any succour from Prance could be 
 entertained by himself or his troops, he still maintained the 
 most vigorous resistance ; and the siege had in fact made 
 but little progress. The appearance of Gonzalves changed 
 the posture of affairs ; and seeing what was necessary to 
 complete the reduction of the place with the intuitive per- 
 ception of real genius, that great general immediately 
 volunteered to make himself master of the course of a small 
 river, which, passing close to the city, not only furnished 
 the garrison with their sole supply of water, but also served 
 to turn the mills by which the town was supplied with 
 bread. This important point had not been neglected in 
 Montpensier's plan of defence, and a strong outwork had 
 been thrown forward, enclosing a part of the river's course, 
 which was defended by a chosen body of the most veteran 
 troops in the service. 
 
 Gonzalves did not, however, hesitate to attack them ; and 
 after a severe struggle the entrenchments were carried, 
 and the French deprived of the command of water they had 
 hitherto possessed. The mills became the next object ; and 
 as no means of replacing these existed within the town, not 
 less pains had been used to ensure them from capture 
 than had been bestowed on , the fortifications of the 
 river. The contest here was even more severe than it had 
 been on the former occasion ; the garrison fighting for their 
 last hope, while Gonzalves spared no means to strike the 
 decisive blow which he knew must drive them to extremity. 
 
 By frequently reiterated and persevering attacks he at 
 length effected his object. The French were driven back, 
 the mills remained in the hands of the Spaniards a sufficient 
 space of time to be completely destroyed by fire ; and 
 
 r 2 
 
68 GONZALYES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 though the Prench nobility by a brilliant charge retook 
 the ground that had been lost, and succeeded even in intro- 
 ducing a temporary supply into the town, yet the destruction 
 of the mills was irretrievable. The want of bread and of 
 water soon began to make itself felt with terrible severity, 
 and Montpensier at length demanded to capitulate. 
 
 Success is the trial of the mind. The really great, what- 
 ever may be their faults, find the mind expand in its 
 sunshine. They may be taught to grasp at vaster conquests, 
 but their ambition itself takes a grander character. The 
 naturally mean, to whatever height fortune may have raised 
 them, find, on the contrary, the mind contract under the 
 influence of success— their wealth is ever proud, their 
 prosperity is ever insolent ; nor can victory, elevation, 
 and triumph, which ought to be the greatest ennoblers 
 of the heart, teach them to despise that which is petty, or 
 cast away from their bosom that which is little. Ferdinand 
 of JN'aples would fain have forced the gallant Montpensier 
 to surrender at discretion ; and it was only his threat to 
 force his way sword in hand that caused the mean monarch 
 to consent to fair terms of capitulation. 
 
 These terms were, that if within thirty days he were not 
 succoured the count should deliver up the city to Ferdinand, 
 as well as every other fortress still in his power ; and that 
 upon these conditions he and the whole garrison should 
 have free licence to return to France, by sea or land, without 
 let or hindrance. At the end of the stipulated period, 
 Montpensier surrendered Atello, and gave into the hands 
 of Ferdinand's commissioners full power to take possession 
 of all places to which he had appointed the governors. 
 
 It was then customary for each officer appointed to 
 command a fortress to give a written promise to the person 
 who appointed him, to the. effect that he would never sur- 
 render the place entrusted to his defence till that promise 
 should be presented to him. The count de Montpensier of 
 course gave up to Ferdinand those written engagements 
 which he had received from officers nominated by himself j 
 but Ferdinand demanded those also of all the governors 
 who had been appointed by Charles VIII. himself, de- 
 claring that such was the true meaning of the treaty of 
 capitulation. 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIK". 69 
 
 Whether there was anything doubtful or evasive in the 
 terms of the treaty that admitted this inference cannot no\^ 
 be told. At all events it was impossible for Montpensiei 
 to comply with the demand. Charles had carried the docu- 
 ments required into Eraace ; nor would the count consent 
 even to ask them, declaring that the interpretation which 
 Eerdinand placed on the treaty was false and unjust ; that 
 it could but be construed properly to promise the surrender 
 of ail places in his own absolute power, not those whose 
 officers had been appointed by the king, which were totally 
 beyond his authority. 
 
 It would have been nobler on the part of Ferdinand to 
 construe the treaty in its most liberal sense, and perhaps 
 would have been more to his advantage also ; but his mind 
 was not capable of perceiving the policy of generosity, and, 
 taking advantage of the misunderstanding, he detained the 
 unhappy garrison of Atello, confining them in separate bodies 
 at various unhealthy places on the sea-coast where death 
 soon became busy amongst them. 
 
 Of seven thousand men who marched out of Atello, before 
 six months had passed but five hundred remained ; and at 
 length the count de Montpensier himself fell a victim to the 
 -disease which had carried ofi" so many of his companions. 
 The solicitations of his friends had indeed wrung from Fer- 
 dinand a permission for Montpensier to quit the pestilential 
 air in which he had been confined ; but the Trench general 
 refused to abandon his comrades in misfortune, or to accept 
 the ungenerous favour that was refused to them. He stayed, 
 and in a very few weeks sealed his constancy with h;s death. 
 
 It would seem as if the manner of Ferdinand's fate, which 
 followed close upon that of Montpensier, was intended to 
 mark strongly the hand of retributive justice. The same 
 disease which had slain his enemy, confined by him to un- 
 wholesome food and poisonous air, found out the monarch, 
 and destroyed him in the pure atmosphere of the campagna 
 and in the midst of all the profusions of a court. 
 
 Frederic, his uncle, succeeded him ; and Gronzalves of 
 Cordoba still continued the war successfully against the 
 French. By this time d'Aubigny had recovered from the 
 illness which had for so long paralyzed his efforts, and, with 
 wise precaution, proceeded to fortify his small forces in 
 
70 GONZALYES DE COEDOBA 
 
 Calabria, taking advantage of every strong place the country 
 afforded to form a point of defence, but resting his greatest 
 hope upon Manfredonia, the natural position and well- 
 planned fortifications of which put it in a situation to sus- 
 tain ft long siege. Three armies now, however, menaced 
 Oalabria — that of Naples, that of Spain under Gonzalves, 
 and that of Venice under the marquis of Mantua. 
 
 Gonzalves took the lead, and marched directly upon 
 Manfredonia, when, to the surprise of every one, and of 
 none more than Gonzalves himself, Manfredonia surren- 
 dered before it had even been summoned. However 
 irreconcilable the two circumstances may seem, it is never- 
 theless certain that Montfaucon, who commanded in that 
 town, was a man of tried courage; and no less so that 
 Gonzalves entertained no sort of correspondence in the 
 city which might have brought about so singular a sur- 
 render. Montfaucon's conduct has never been clearly 
 explained ; but it has been conjectured that, having always 
 been employed in field service, and not having ever been 
 shut up before within the walls of a fortress, all the diffi- 
 culties of his command came upon his mind at once, and 
 bereaved him for the time of all strength of mind. 
 
 The fall of Manfredonia was fatal to the defence of 
 Calabria ; and d' Aubigny, finding himself deprived of the 
 chief of those bulwarks on which he counted to stay the 
 enemy's advance till his preparations should be complete, 
 now only thought of obtaining honourable terms of com- 
 position for himself and his small army. 
 
 The. fate of the count de Montpensier warned him not to 
 put his faith in the crafty IN'eapolitans. The marquis of 
 Mantua, commanding the Venetian forces, was, it is true, 
 more worthy of confidence ; but in the former instance his 
 influence had proved so weak that he had been obliged to 
 abandon his own brother-in-law* to his unhappy fate. Of 
 the three generals, therefore, who were marching against 
 liim, Gonzalves of Cordoba was the only one whose known 
 honour rendered his word trustworthy, and whose name was 
 {sufficiently powerful to command the good faith of others* 
 
 * Tlie count de Montpensier had married the sister of the marquia 
 of Mantua. 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 71 
 
 With him, therefore, d'Aubigny proposed to treat for the 
 evacuation of Calabria ; and, after a very short dehberation, 
 his proposal was accepted. Gonzalves, with the consent of 
 the new king Erederic, guaranteed to d'Aubigny the per- 
 mission and the means of returning to France. All the 
 strong places of Calabria were delivered up ; and the Spanish 
 general, on his part, observed his stipulations to the letter. 
 
 Had Gronzalves refused the conditions proposed by the 
 French commander, he w^ould probably have proceeded 
 from victory to victory till he had forced d'Aubigny to 
 surrender at discretion ; but the glory he would thus have 
 acquired would surely have been far inferior to the fame 
 so justly his due, of never having shed one drop of blood 
 more than the cause he undertook required, and of never 
 having endangered success by graspiug at one merely 
 personal triumph. 
 
 The kingdom of Naples was now once more wrested 
 from the hands of the French, and restored entirely to the 
 former dynasty, except a small district between Naples and 
 Calabria, which returned to obedience at the first approach 
 of Gonzalves and the Spanish forces. The object of the 
 Spanish expedition into Italy was in fact accomplished ; and 
 it is more than probable that Ferdinand, king of Spain, 
 would have recalled Gonzalves and his troops as soon as he 
 found that the purpose for which they had been sent was 
 fulfilled, liad not another blow remained to be struck against 
 the last vestige of the French domination in Italy. 
 
 Alexander the Infamous then filled the papal throne ; 
 and though his avarice prevented him from entering deeply 
 into the more expensive operations of the war, as far as 
 words, exhortations, and counsels could go, he had taken 
 an active part against the French. Various factions, how- 
 ever, raged in the ecclesiastical states, and of these one 
 of the most powerful was attached to France, and headed 
 by the cardinal of St. Peter's. By his instigation, it is 
 supposed, a famous pirate, named Menald or Menaldo, 
 a native of JSTavarre, boldly seized upon the seaport of 
 Ostia, at the mouth of the Tiber, and by plundering 
 all vessels that approached the shore, entirely cut off the 
 usual supplies which Home received from the various 
 maritime cities of Italy. The evil, which at first seemed 
 
72 GONZALTES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 trifling, gradually became important. Menald strengthened 
 himself in his position, was supported by France, and 
 scoffing at the thunders of the apostolic see, he continued 
 his depredations, sinking and plundering all vessels that 
 approached the mouth of the Tiber, rejecting all proposals 
 of amnesty which fear and interest caused to be held out 
 towards him. 
 
 What could not be produced by pacific measures it 
 became necessary to enforce by arms, but Alexander VI. 
 possessed not the necessary army to attack Ostia by land, 
 and his galleys had been defeated and sunk in endeavouring 
 to open the passage of the river. In this dilemma he 
 applied to Gronzalves ; and his request being strongly 
 seconded by Frederic king of Naples, the Spanish general 
 marched into the Papal States, and was received at Bome 
 as a deliverer. After waiting a few days to refresh his 
 troops Gonzalves proceeded to Ostia, and as without 
 a fleet there existed no possibility of cutting ofl* its supplies, 
 he determined to attempt the quicker but more hazardous 
 mode of assault by escalade. To divert the enemy's atten- 
 tion, however, from his real design, he caused the cannon to 
 batter in a breach ; as soon as this was practicable, he gave 
 orders for a false attack to be made at that point, while he him- 
 self attempted the escalade on the opposite side of the town. 
 His plan succeeded completely. The moment the attack 
 began the principal force of the garrison was directed to 
 the defence of the breach, while Gonzalves found very little 
 opposition oiFered to the scaling party, which he had kept 
 concealed till the moment of assault. 
 
 No sooner did the garrison find that they had been 
 deceived by this stratagem, than they turned to remedy 
 their error. But it was too late. Gonzalves was already 
 in the town, and at the same moment the false attack was 
 converted into a real one, so that, taken both in front and 
 rear, nothing was left but to surrender or to die. 
 
 Menald chose the former, demanding nothing but his life ; 
 and, following his example, the whole of the garrison 
 surrendered at discretion. Having destroyed the nest 
 of pirates who had so long troubled that part of the coast, 
 Gonzalves returned to Eome, and entered by the Ostian 
 gate, followed by his prisoners, with the air of an antique 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTATIT. 73 
 
 trlumpli. The streets and tlie windows were crowded with 
 the people of Eome, anxious to behold, now that his power 
 to hurt was gone, the savage freebooter who had caused 
 them for years so much terror and annoyance. It may 
 easily be believed also, that in that semi-barbarous age as 
 in any other, the conqueror, with his plumes, his waving 
 ensigns, and his steel-clad bands, would have been applauded 
 to the gkies, even had his cause been less righteous, and his 
 name less splendid than it was. Thus triumphant as 
 a deliverer, Gonzalves entered E-ome, and proceeded direct 
 to the Vatican, where, alighting from his horse, he led his 
 prisoner Menald to the feet of the pope, who poured forth 
 a torrent of praises on the Spanish captain ; and, instead of 
 suffering the usual obeisance, took him in his arms, and 
 embraced him as a friend. 
 
 Gonzalves asked but two things as a reward for the 
 service he had just rendered, the life and liberty of Menald 
 his prisoner, and an exemption in favour of Ostia from all 
 imposts for the space of ten years, that it might recover, he 
 said, from the injuries of war. 
 
 Such noble demands were not to be refused, and Gon- 
 zalves retired from the presence of the pontiff, the bene- 
 factor even of those whom he had conquered. 
 
 !For some days he remained in !Rome, and was admitted 
 more than once to the private council of the pope. It was 
 on one of these occasions that Alexander, forgetting the 
 vast subjects of reproach that all Europe had against 
 himself, complained bitterly of Ferdinand and Isabella, 
 to whom he had advanced large sums for the war against 
 the Moors, and who yet left him without that countenance 
 and succour which would easily have crushed the factions in 
 his state, and silenced or destroyed his enemies. Gonzalves 
 rose indignantly to defend his royal patrons; and then, 
 from the defender becoming the accuser, he firmly and 
 boldly reproached Alexander with his vices and his crimes, 
 "With generous eloquence he spoke truths that had never 
 before reached the ears of the corrupt priest ; and showing 
 him the disgrace he had brought upon his high rank, upon 
 the ecclesiastical character, and even upon human nature — 
 he exhorted him to repent in time, before the vengeance 
 of an offended God overtook the profane intruder into 
 
74 GO]S'ZALYES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 his sanctuary, and the scandalous polluter of his holy 
 altar. 
 
 Alexander had nothing to reply, and humiliated as much 
 as astonished, awed more than irritated, he suiFered Gon- 
 zalves to depart, loaded with honours and presents. 
 
 Erom E.ome Gronzalves pursued his course towards 
 Naples, where Prederic, w^ho, by his counsel and assistance, 
 was now firmly seated on the throne, received him as 
 perhaps never subject was received by a monarch. The 
 inhabitants of the city came out for many miles to see him 
 arrive, lining the roads, and making the skies ring with 
 the shouts of a vehement and excitable people. Frederic 
 himself, with the whole of his court, met him without the 
 walls, and presented him with a small feudal sovereignty in 
 the Abruzzi, as an inadequate reward, he said, for inesti- 
 mable services. 
 
 "What was the precise nature of the power with which 
 Gonzalves, on his first departure for Italy, had been invested 
 by Ferdinand king of Spain, or whether that power had 
 been increased in proportion to the success with w^hich he 
 carried on the war, it is impossible now to say. At all events, 
 that power must have been by this time paramount to 
 every other but the king's own in his Sicilian dominions ; 
 for we find Gonzalves sailing for Messina almost im- 
 mediately after his arrival at Naples, and calling to a 
 severe account the governor of Sicily for his tyranny and 
 exactions. 
 
 On his arrival he found the trade in corn, the staple 
 commerce of the Sicilians, almost entirely crushed under 
 the heavy imposts laid upon it by the avaricious governor : 
 confusion reigning in every part of the government, and 
 the people in a state of tumult and revolt. By a few wise 
 regulations and vigorous measures he removed the cause 
 of discontent, allayed the ferment of the people, and, con- 
 voking the states of the kingdom at Palermo, established 
 the commercial interests of the kingdom for the time on a 
 firm and ascertained basis. 
 
 We have said that the whole territory of Naples had 
 submitted to Frederic ; there was still, however, a small 
 sovereignty on the extremity of the kingdom, which, though 
 holding from the crown of Naples as its feudal superior. 
 
THE GREAT CAP:i-AIX. 7^ 
 
 still maintained the title of the Prench monarch, and re- 
 fused to submit to the house of Arragon. This consisted 
 of the town and domain of Diano on the Sello, and thither 
 Frederic called the arms of Gonzalves, as soon as he had 
 pacified the people of Sicily. 
 
 The city was well prepared to withstand a siege, and 
 showed a determination to defend itself to the last. Gon- 
 zalves made every overture to negotiation, but in vain, and 
 he then commenced the siege in form. The attack and 
 defence proceeded for some tiine with equal vigour; but at 
 length the Spaniards having carried the principal defences 
 by storm, the garrison threw down their arms and sur- 
 rendered at discretion. It is always a difificult task for a 
 commander to prevent much bloodshed under such circum- 
 stances ; Gonzalves, however, succeeded in the present 
 instance , and by the great authority which he possessed 
 over his troops, restrained them from the slaughter and 
 outrage which the intoxication of victory generally entails- 
 upon a city taken by storm. He also acted as m.ediator 
 between the inhabitants of the city and their offended 
 sovereign ; and then, having seen Frederic in peaceful pos- 
 session of the whole of his hereditary dominions, he set sail 
 for Spain, to which country, he was now called by the express 
 command of Ferdinand. 
 
 Honours and wealth awaited Gonzalves in his native 
 land ; for a war so distant from his own immediate courts 
 so little expensive . in its course, and so successful in it& 
 event, gratified Ferdinand's ambition, his policy, and his 
 pride, without wounding his avarice or awakening his 
 jealousy. Fortune, therefore, showered its choicest fiivours 
 on the head of Gonzalves, and opportunities of meriting 
 reward and honour were certainly not denied him. During 
 his absence from Spain, the unhappy Moors, whom he had 
 assisted in subduing, had been subjected to all the petty 
 tyrannies of superstitious fanaticism. The treaty, by which 
 the right of following their own worship had been promised 
 to them, by this time had been violated, and the frau- 
 dulent impudence of the E,oman church had forged a 
 thousand plausible pretexts to justify persecution and in- 
 tolerance in their case, notwithstanding all the oaths undey 
 which they had weakly deemed themselves secure. 
 
76 GOIS'ZALYES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 AVere there a power on earth that could really untwine 
 the bonds of man's most solemn engagements, it would 
 indeed need an infallible being to be the depository thereof; 
 for what a mighty engine, constructed from all the bad 
 passions of humanity, might be moved by that small spring ! 
 At that time, however, both the church's power of absolving 
 from all engagements, and the infallibility of its head, were 
 firmly believed in on all hands though morally contradicted 
 every day, and Ferdinand of course found himself as free 
 from all his oaths to infidels as if those oaths had never 
 been taken. The Moors, irritated at the oppression they 
 suffered, and indignant at finding themselves deceived, 
 showed evident symptoms of revolt, and called loudly for 
 aid from their brethren in Africa. To meet the formidable 
 preparations making on the opposite coast, and to quell 
 the turbulent spirit prevailing in the heart of his own 
 dominions, Ferdinand called all his vassals to the field. An 
 immense army was thus raised ; and, though in no country 
 did rank and wealth bear a greater sway at that time than 
 in Spain, yet, in opposition to the claims of many distin- 
 guished competitors, the command of the whole was en- 
 trusted to Gonzalves de Cordoba. 
 
 Scared with the very news of so vast an armament, the 
 Moors of Africa abandoned their meditated expedition, and 
 nothing remained for Gronzalves but once more to reduce 
 the Moors of Granada to subjection. The task was an easy 
 one, and Gonzalves prepared to undertake it by ordering 
 that all the new recruits should be sent back to their 
 homes, and that none but old and tried soldiers should be 
 retained in the ranks. On the second day of inspection, 
 finding that his elder brother, Don Alphonso de Cordoba, 
 who now served under him, had neglected to obey his 
 commands, he reproved him in the face of the army with 
 the same calm dignity with which he would have addressed 
 any other disobedient officer. Don Alphonso submitted 
 and obeyed, and a thousand after circumstances proved that 
 the strictness of Gonzalves as a commander in no degree 
 estranged the affection of his brother. 
 
 The Moors of Spain, finding themselves abandoned by 
 the allies whose promised aid had rendered them proud 
 and confident, menaced by a large and veteran army, and 
 
THE GEE AT CAPTAIN. 77 
 
 opposed by a commander whose activity they remembered 
 with dread, began heartily to repent of having engaged in a 
 revolt the issue of which bade fair to bring down destruc- 
 tion on their heads. 
 
 On the very first approach of Gronzalves all show of 
 resistance ceased, and messengers were sent entreating his 
 clemency and his intercession with Eerdinand. 
 
 Gronzalves was ever willing to undertake the part of a 
 mediator, and in this instance he was more successful than 
 perhaps even the Moors themselves expected ; for he not 
 only obtained for them a general amnesty, but he also 
 engaged Ferdinand to renew his promise of religious tole- 
 ration, and to issue strict commands that it should not bo 
 violated by those in authority under him. This promise, 
 being given after their submission, when nothing farther 
 could be gained by deceit, appeared rightly to the Moors as 
 more likely to be durable tnan that which had been extorted 
 under the walls of Granada, and had so soon been violated. 
 They therefore returned contented to their homes, and 
 Gronzalves passed a short time at the court, enjoying^ 
 some repose after so many years of activity and excite- 
 ment. His day of rest, however, was destined to be a 
 short one, and new wars soon called him into the field 
 again. 
 
 Charles YIII. of France had died suddenly without 
 issue, and the duke of Orleans, his cousin, succeeded under 
 the title of Louis XII. Immediately after his accession, 
 Louis discovered that his grandmother, Valentinia, had been 
 the rightful heiress of the duchy of Milan, and conse- 
 quently he determined without delay to make himself 
 master of that territory, which at the time was held in 
 undisputed possession by Ludovico Sforza, commonly called 
 the Moor. Louis, however, proceeded more cautiously than 
 Charles had done, and before he entered Italy, took care,, 
 by flattering ambitious prospects and lavishing specious 
 promises, to bind to his interest all the neighbouring princes 
 who might oppose his progress. The unhappy Sforza thus 
 found himself at once in the face of a formidable enemy, 
 destitute of allies, and surrounded by greedy neighbours^ 
 who no sooner saw the attack begun than they stretched 
 forth a hand to snatch some gem from his ducal coronet. 
 
78 GONZALVES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 Amongst the most eager to despoil him was the state of 
 , Venice ; and, partly perhaps in revenge, partly to cause a 
 diversion in his favour, Sforza called in the aid of Bajazet 
 the sultan of Turkey, who very willingly fell upon the pos- 
 sessions of his ancient enemies the Venetians, and in a short 
 time had deprived them of far more than they had gained by 
 their attack upon Sforza. 
 
 The history of the unfortunate duke of Milan, his efforts 
 to recover his dominions, the treachery of the Swiss whom 
 he had engaged in his service, his capture, his imprison- 
 ment, and his death in captivity, are all too well known to 
 need any lengthened detail in this place. Suffice it that, 
 after having aided to strip him of his dominions, the confe- 
 derates of Louis XII., as is usual in such cases, quarrelled 
 about the division of the spoil. Nations, like individuals, 
 always attach greater expectations to the success of an 
 enterprise than any success can satisfy, and are very fre- 
 quently more disappointed in the accomplishment of their 
 undertaking than they would have been in its failure. 
 Thus, no sooner was Sforza deprived of his territories than 
 all the allies broke out into murmurs against Louis and 
 against each other. The petty princes of Italy began to 
 see their error in having destroyed an equal to replace him 
 by a superior. The pope declared that Louis had failed in 
 the. promises he had held out to his natural son Caesar 
 Eorgia, and joined eagerly in a new league, proposed by 
 ^Frederic king of I^Taples, for .the purpose of checking the 
 ambitious projects of the French monarch. The Venetians 
 also, on their part, declared they had lost more than they 
 had gained by the assistance they had rendered to the king 
 of Prance, and turned all their thoughts to the recovery of 
 their possessions from Bajazet. 
 
 The arms of Turkey, however, still continued victorious, 
 and the Venetians were fain to apply most humbly for 
 protection and assistance to the various princes of Christen- 
 dom, calling on them for the honour of religion as well as 
 justice, to aid them against the aggression of the infidel. 
 The only one, however, who favourably answered their 
 appeal was Ferdinand king of Spain. His motives for 
 granting them the aid they demanded remain buried beyond 
 the power of research. "VVe can but conjecture. The mo- 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIX. 79 
 
 tive that he assigned, however — compassionate friendship 
 for the state of Venice — is so discordant with every prin- 
 ciple shown throughout his life that it merits no belief. 
 Perdinand was not a man to equip a mighty armament and 
 expend the blood of his bravest troops, as well as large 
 sums of that treasure which was like the blood of his own 
 heart, without some other moving cause, with him more 
 powerful than compassion. He might fear that the con- 
 quests of the Turks would in time, if unchecked, reach 
 even to his Sicilian dominions, and he might therefore seek 
 i\t once to bar their further progress ; he might also, it is 
 true, already meditate his future treachery against the king 
 of Naples, and therefore seek to draw his troops nearer to 
 that kingdom without raising a doubt or a suspicion. 
 
 However that might be, Gronzalves was soon called upon 
 to take the command of a fleet of sixty vessels, containing 
 eight thousand infantry and a small body of choice cavalry, 
 with which he was to join the Venetian fleet in the Ionian 
 sea and direct the operations of the whole armament upon 
 whatever point he deemed liable to attack. No sooner was 
 ib known that so strong a force, commanded by so renowned 
 a chief, was. destined to war against the infidels, than thou- 
 sands of volunteers from the highest classes of the Spanish 
 nobility presented themselves, eager and enthusiastic to 
 draw their swords in a strife where the desire of glory was 
 raised and sanctified by a righteous cause and by religious 
 zeal. 
 
 The voyage was swift and happy ; but on arriving at Zante 
 the first news received from the Venetians was anything 
 but favourable. The fleet of the republic had met with 
 nothing but defeat and loss under two successive comman- 
 ders. Coron and Modon had fallen into the hands of the 
 Turks, who had before made themselves masters of the greater 
 part of Etolia and Epirus which had previously belonged to 
 Venice. The last, however, and the greatest of the Venetian 
 losses had been Cephalonia ; and it was to be feared that all 
 the Ionian isles would soon be snatched from the republic, 
 and go to increase the dominions of the infidels. 
 
 At Zante Gonzalves joined the Venetian fleet, now under 
 a new commander, and immediately proposed a descent 
 upon Cephalonia. The Turkish armament had by this time 
 
80 , GONZALYES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 retired to the Hellespont on account of tlie autumnal gales^ 
 so that nothing but the winds of heaven were likely to- 
 oppose the allies in the short passage from Zante to Cepha- 
 lonia. The Venetian commander eagerly acceded to the 
 proposal made by Gonzalves, the wind soon proved favour- 
 able, and the two fleets succeeded without difficulty in 
 reaching their destination and disembarking their forces. 
 
 Previous to his departure from Zante, however, Gonzalves 
 had thought fit to send a flag of truce to the Turkish com- 
 mander of Cephalonia, summoning him to surrender in so 
 pompous and tumid a manner, that it is impossible to recon- 
 cile it with the dignified modesty which the Spanish general 
 showed on all occasions, except by supposing that in this 
 instance he thought fit to imitate the florid bombast of the- 
 Oriental style, that his message might meet with the 
 attention and consideration which was its due. 
 
 Gisdar the commandant of Cephalonia, an Epirote by 
 birth, was not to be outdone in high-flown language, and, 
 addressing the Spanish officer who had been admitted to his 
 presence, he replied : — " We thank you much, generous- 
 Christian, for the opportunity you give us of signalizing 
 our zeal in the service of our most high and powerful em- 
 peror, by the resistance we intend to ofler you. The 
 threats of men shake us not, knowing that life and death 
 depend upon a destiny over which they have no power. 
 [Return, then, to your general, and tell him that each of my 
 soldiers has seven bows and seven thousand arrows, with 
 which we will sell dearly our lives, in case an inevitable 
 necessity wills us to perish.'' 
 
 The same bold language continued to be held after the 
 disembarkation of the Spanish and Venetian forces; and 
 neither the numbers, the warlike skill, nor the unceasing 
 attacks of the besiegers, seemed for one moment to diminish 
 the confidence of the garrison. The cannon of the Italians 
 were of a calibre unheard of in that day ; but no sooner had 
 they succeeded in opening a breach in the wall, than works 
 were constructed within which rendered it impracticable. 
 In the mean time the artillery of the fortress was not silent, 
 keeping up a well-served and murderous fire upon the 
 besiegers greater part of the day and night, while showers 
 of arrows, winged with all the dexterity of long practice^ 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIN. »1 
 
 reached even to the Spanisli camp, and penetrated many of 
 the tents. A report, too, soon began to prevail that these 
 arrows were poisoned, and several rapid deaths, after very 
 slight wounds, contributed to confirm the opinion. 
 
 This only rendered the Spaniards more eager to hurry 
 forward the siege ; and though access, even to the foot of 
 the wall, was scarcely practicable, yet not a day passed 
 but some attempt to storm was made, either by the regular 
 troops or the volunteers. At the same time every means 
 of warfare was resorted to by the besieged, to destroy their 
 enemies on the occasion of such attacks. 
 
 Arrows, immense stones, boiling oil, and liquid fire, were 
 poured down upon their heads, while others were caught by 
 a long hook, which, seizing them by the neck, or under the 
 rim of the cuirass, drew them up to the top of the ramparts 
 — not to victory, but death. 
 
 At night the besieged quitted the defensive, and took 
 more active measures against their enemies, issuing forth 
 from the walls in strong parties, and leaving no rest to 
 those who were to attack them the next day. 
 
 To form the necessary lines, and completely fortify 
 his camp, would have been a work of such labour, and in 
 that stony soil would have occupied so long a time, that 
 Gonzalves did not waste a moment in the endeavour. To 
 check the sorties of the enemy, however, he caused a high 
 cavalier of brickwork to be constructed, in such a manner 
 as to command the line between the city and his camp ; and 
 the garrison soon found, by the destruction of considerable 
 bodies, which went forth as usual to attack the quarters of 
 the Spanish general, that such enterprises would now prove 
 ■only disastrous to themselves. 
 
 Their courage, notwithstanding, remained unabated, and 
 their ingenuity soon supplied new means of harassing and 
 destroying their enemy. They had now recourse to mining, 
 and with wonderful skill and perseverance contrived to 
 pierce, through an obdurate and stony soil, a long subter- 
 ranean passage leading from the city almost to the Spanish 
 camp. But Gonzalves, in addition to all his other high 
 qualities as a general, had that keenness of perception 
 which seems in some men more the result of a peculiar 
 sense than of a combination formed in the mind. 
 
S2 GONZALVES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 The Turks had refrained from any farther enterprizes^ 
 against his camp ; they had kept wholly upon the defensive, 
 yet their character was that of activity and ardour ; could 
 they, then, he asked himself, act thus without employing 
 their superabundant energies in some concealed under- 
 taking ? ISo ; and his mind instantly fixed upon the very 
 scheme in which they were engaged. What was at first 
 but a suspicion in his own breast, was soon confirmed by 
 the engineers he employed to examine, and the remedy was- 
 as promptly applied. The unfortunate Turks were easily 
 countermined, and blown up in the midst of their labours ; 
 and this their abortive attempt terminated all their more 
 extraordinary efforts to drive the enemy from their walls. 
 
 The Spanish camp now began to feel the want of bread ; 
 and, after having employed various ingenious contrivances 
 for the purpose of establishing mills and ovens, Gronzalves 
 found the supply still so scanty, that unless some means 
 could be found of hastening the capture of the place, he- 
 would be obliged to abandon the siege from mere want of 
 provisions. In this difficulty he applied to the engineer 
 who had aided him to counteract the Turkish scheme for 
 burning his camp, and in whom he fancied he discovered 
 talents of a superior order, though now employed but in an 
 inferior station. Peter Navarro — for so was the engineer 
 called — showed himself ready and able to second the inten- 
 tions of his general. Instead of directing all his efforts 
 against the wall of the fortress, which was the common 
 custom of the day, he contrived to sap various parts of the 
 rock itself, and thus blow up a large range of wall, leaving; 
 a practicable breach ten times more extensive than any 
 which the cannon had been able to effect during the wholo 
 course of the siege. 
 
 Gonzalves lost no time, but led his men to the assault ;. 
 while they, indignant at having been detained so long: 
 before a petty fortress, with a barbarous garrison, rushed 
 on, jostling each other in their eagerness to be first within 
 the walls, and totally careless of the tremendous fire under 
 which they were obliged to advance. The Turks defended 
 themselves to the last with a desperate valour which 
 merited though it did not win success. Foot after foot of 
 ground was still fought for within the walls, and man after 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAITT. * 83 
 
 man died where lie stood, neither giving nor receiving quarter, 
 till every Moslem found in arms lay dead within that 
 bloody arena. Only forty men were spared, and these 
 were the wounded in the hospital, who had not possessed 
 sufficient strength to wield a sabre in that day's desperate 
 defence. Thus ended the siege of Cephalonia, and the 
 Venetians immediately prepared to follow up their victory, 
 by setting sail for Santa Maura; but Gronzalves had by 
 this time received orders to return without delay to Sicily, 
 and consequently was obliged to leave them to proceed 
 alone on the glorious career which his sword had first 
 opened for their steps. Before separating from him, 
 however, the Venetian commander, after thanking him in 
 the name of the senate for his splendid services, sent him, 
 as a testimony of gratitude, a multitude of rich and 
 magnificent articles, not unlike in description some of the 
 Oriental gifts so often mentioned in the Bible — vessels 
 of gold and of silver richly wrought, fine raiment of purple 
 and scarlet, a number of Thracian chargers, and ten thou- 
 sand crowns in gold. Some of the vases, more valuable for 
 their workmanship than for their materials, Gronzalves kept 
 for himself; the rest of the Venetian presents he distri- 
 buted amongst his soldiers, giving the money to the lower 
 ranks, and ofiering the horses and silver vessels to the 
 officers who had shared in his undertaking. 
 
 On arriving in Sicily, Gonzalves received immediate 
 orders to second all the wishes of Frederic king of ISTaples, 
 who, finding his dominions menaced by Louis XII. of 
 France, had endeavoured to strengthen himself as much as 
 possible, by alliances, not only with the princes of Italy, 
 but with his old protector Ferdinand of Spain. 
 
 Gonzalves prepared with pleasure to serve a prince 
 whom he had already served so well, and who appreciated 
 his services ; and he only waited for some direct order from 
 Frederic to land his troops on any point of the kingdom of 
 Naples which the king might judge expedient. 
 
 At length the French army began its march for JS'aples, 
 and Frederic, taking up a strong position on the frontier of 
 his dominions, wrote to Gonzalves, desiring him to land his 
 troops once more at Eeggio, and to take upon himself the 
 defence of Calabria. 
 
 G 2 
 
84j gonzalyes de coedoba, 
 
 Almost at the same time with the messenger from 
 Prederic, there arrived ' at Messina an officer charged with 
 despatches from Spain, and their contents gave more pain 
 to the heart of Gronzalves than any he perhaps had ever 
 received. These despatches also contained commands for 
 him to land in Calabria, but it was for the purpose of 
 taking possession of it for Spain. 
 
 Little doubt can be entertained that Ferdinand had long 
 looked with a covetous eye upon the kingdom of Naples, 
 and had only been prevented from endeavouring to annex it 
 to his Sicilian dominions by the difficulty of the under- 
 taking, and the opposition he was certain of encountering 
 from the other sovereigns of Europe. He only waited, 
 therefore, for opportunity; and to colour his treachery, 
 whenever circumstances should render it feasible, a claim to 
 the crown of Naples was always to be found in the manner 
 of that crown's descent to its present possessors. 
 
 Joan of Anjou, queen of the Two Sicilies, had adopted as 
 her heir Alphonso V. king of Arragon, who afterwards, in 
 effect, possessed himself of the kingdoms of Naples and 
 Sicily, and annexed them to his patrimonial dominions. 
 Alphonso died, leaving no issue but one natural son, 
 and conceiving that he had a title — as by all natural right 
 he had — to dispose of a kingdom by gift which had itself 
 been given to him, he bequeathed the crown of Naples to 
 his natural son, leaving to his brother John his hereditary 
 dominions, augmented by the rich island of Sicily. John 
 never dreamed of disputing his brother's bequest, and the 
 kingdom of Naples descended tranquilly to the children of 
 Alphonso' s natural son, whose right was only contested by 
 the monarchs of France. The Ferdinand of whom we now 
 write succeeded his father John in the throne of Arragon ; 
 and we have already seen him assisting his cousins in 
 recovering the kingdom of Naples from the French, and by 
 that very assistance virtually recognising their title to that 
 crown. Louis XII. of France, however, finding that his 
 schemes against Naples must ever fail of success while 
 opposed by Ferdinand as well as all the princes of Italy, 
 easily saw through the veil of moderation and religious zeal 
 with which the Spanish monarch covered his ambition, and 
 proposed to him at once to share the kingdom of Naples 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIK. 85 
 
 between them, offering him all Calabria and the territories 
 opposite to the Sicilian shore, and proposing to retain 
 for himself the whole remaining territory, together with the 
 title of king of Naples. 
 
 ^Ferdinand demanded three days to consider, and it would 
 be curious to determine what were the questions he revolved 
 in his mind — whether shame for his meditated perfidy 
 or pity for his deceived relation ever entered into his 
 thoughts, or whether his whole ideas fixed on the calcula- 
 tion of what power he possessed to snatch from the Erench 
 their share of the spoil as soon as it should be won. 
 
 Ferdinand found himself sufficiently strong, and acceded 
 to the proposal ; and while Gonzalves was recalled to Sicily, 
 the French monarch began his preparations for invading 
 the fated country. The most profound secrecy, however, 
 was maintained in regard to the league that had been 
 formed ; and as we have seen, Gonzalves himself was 
 directed in the first instance to obey the wishes of the 
 devoted king of JSTaples, and kept in complete ignorance of 
 the designs of his master. At length, however, the de- 
 spatches arrived, and Gonzalves found himself called upon 
 to turn the sword, which he had hitherto wielded in defence 
 of Frederic, against him, at the very moment he had him- 
 self been loaded with honours and rewards by that unhappy 
 sovereign. His orders were, instantly to take possession 
 of Calabria in the name of Ferdinand ; and how far it was 
 intended that he should do so without giving any previous 
 warning may be best judged by the character of the 
 monarch he served. 
 
 To turn his arms in whatsoever direction his sovereign 
 commanded, was his duty as a soldier and a subject, but to 
 betray a friend and benefactor was what no one could justly 
 require. Previously, therefore, to executing the orders he 
 received, and even before declaring war, Gonzalves sent a 
 messenger to the king of Naples, laying before him his 
 grief at the commands which forced him to appear in arms 
 against him ; at the same time begging him to receive 
 back the investiture of all those domains which had been 
 bestowed upon him as a reward for former services. 
 
 Frederic, though the news of Ferdinand's treachery was 
 a death-blow to his hopes, was touched with the generous 
 
86 GONZALVES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 feelings of the Spanish commander, and instead of receiving 
 the letters patent which Gonzalves had sent back, he con- 
 firmed them by a new charter, and bade the gentleman who 
 brought them tell his lord that, though fortune might 
 compel them to fight on difierent sides, she could never 
 make them enemies. 
 
 On the return of his messenger, Gonzalves, with slow 
 unwillingness declared war between Spain and J^aples, 
 and published the proclamation of Ferdinand, in which 
 that monarch put forth various specious pretexts, to 
 gloss over the baseness of his aggression. In the first 
 place, the Spanish monarch declared that Alphonso, by the 
 laws of Arragon, could not alienate any part of the crown 
 domain, and therefore the kingdom of Naples could not 
 pass by will to his natural son to the prejudice of his brother 
 John, his lawful heir, from whom Ferdinand claimed. 
 
 This was the strong point of Ferdinand's manifesto, but 
 he could not refrain from still making use of the hypo- 
 critical affectation of religious enthusiasm, at the very 
 moment when, as a crowned bravo, he was committing a 
 robbery which had nothing but extent to distinguish it 
 from the act of a common highwayman. He pretended 
 that he took possession of Calabria for the good of 
 Christendom, alleging that the power of the Turks had 
 now acquired a growth which imperatively demanded the 
 presence of some more potent monarch in the south of 
 Italy to check their aggressions, and to curb their insolence : 
 and he added, that certain information had reached him of 
 the Sultan's intention to pursue the war he had so success- 
 fully begun against the Venetians, and to make himself 
 master of all Italy. 
 
 Such were some of the pretences with which Ferdinand 
 endeavoured to cover his crime ; while Frederic, desponding 
 and heartbroken, prepared still to struggle against his 
 adverse fortune. "We cannot here enter into any long 
 account of the operations of the French army, to repel 
 which the luckless king of Naples directed his chief ener- 
 gies. Suffice it that after various reverses, he was obliged 
 to retire to the city of Naples, the fickle inhabitants of 
 which threw open their gates to the duke of Nemours and 
 the French army, even before they were besieged, and 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAII^. 87 
 
 forced tlieir sovereign to take refuge in the citadel. Here 
 Frederic might have held out long, but his spirit was 
 crushed beneath the weight of his misfortunes. The defeat 
 of his friends, the treachery of his allies, the desertion of 
 his subjects, brought about that weariness of heart, under 
 the influence of which, when sick of human baseness and 
 fortune's instability, men have been known to cast away a 
 crown for a cockle-shell. He was in this state of despond- 
 ency when the Marechal d'Aubigny presented himself with 
 proposals from Louis king of France. 
 
 Frederic admitted him to his presence, and d'Aubigny 
 then offered, in the name of his royal master, that in case 
 he would agree to yield to France that part of his dominions 
 stipulated in the treaty between Ferdinand and Louis, he 
 should be received in France with honour and friendship, 
 that he should be put in immediate possession of the duchy 
 of Anjou, with an establishment suited to his rank and 
 merit ; and lastly, that he should receive an annual pension 
 of thirty thousand crowns, in addition to the revenues of the 
 domain assigned to him. 
 
 Frederic has been blamed for acceding to these terms. 
 He might, it is true, have held out longer ; he might, 
 perhaps, have received succour, or chance might have 
 brought division amongst his enemies ; but on the one side 
 was strife, anxiety, doubt — on the other was certainty and 
 peace ; and who can say that his choice was a bad one ? 
 The terms were kept on both parts with honourable fidelity ; 
 and Frederic retired to France, to live in peace and forget 
 his royalty. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Gonzalves had entered Calabria, and 
 had met with no resistance. Every town had opened its 
 gates at his approach, except Tarentum and Manfredonia, 
 which still held out for Frederic ; but, notwithstanding the 
 resistance of these cities the whole of Calabria might be 
 considered in possession of Spain. 
 
 Probably informed of Ferdinand's views upon the rest of 
 the kingdom, Gronzalves lost no time in conciliating the 
 affection of the Neapolitan nobles, and his popular manners 
 (rendered him eminently successful. The noble family of 
 the Colonnas, also, who, as long as Frederic had been able 
 to make an effort, had remained constant to his party, now 
 
88 GONZALYES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 joined Gonzalves, and brought many more to his standard 
 by the very reputation of their name. The whole of the 
 inferior nobility attached themselves likewise to him, and 
 the people every where showed themselves far more dis- 
 posed to coalesce with the Spaniards than with their ancient 
 enemies, the Erench. 
 
 Whether Louis, on his part, entertained the same designs 
 of mastering the whole kingdom, which had certainly been 
 conceived by Ferdinand, is very doubtful. However that 
 may be, the commanders of the French army lost no oppor- 
 tunity of endeavouring to strengthen their party amongst 
 th6 Neapolitans, and even made various covert attempts to 
 induce the garrisons of Tarentum and Manfredonia to 
 surrender those cities into their hands, although they were 
 situated in the territory secured by treaty to the crown of 
 Spain. They represented to the governors of each that 
 Ferdinand of Spain had abandoned Frederic, and would 
 likewise abandon them whenever it suited his policy ; they 
 oflPered honours and distinctions, and rewards; and the 
 well known Yves d'Alegre, one of the best officers in their 
 army, feigned a vow to Saint Catalda, for the purpose of 
 gaining admission into Tarentum, to communicate with the 
 governor. The cities, however, still held out, and the French 
 officer was obliged to keep his communication with the saint 
 for another time. In the meanwhile, Gronzalves was not 
 ignorant of the proceedings of the French, and fearful lest 
 they should prove successful, he hastened forward to besiege 
 Manfredonia, which lay between Tarentum and Naples. 
 His army was followed by an immense train of heavy artil- 
 lery, which, in an amazingly short time, laid the wall in 
 ruins, and opened his way into the heart of the fortress ; 
 but G-onzalves was unwilling to shed the blood which must 
 ever flow in the capture of a city by storm. He ordered 
 the cannonade to cease, and sending a herald into the town 
 he conjured the garrison not to drive him to the dreadful 
 extremity of an assault. He showed them that he knew 
 the ruined state of their fortifications, he pointed out to 
 them the immense superiority of his own forces, and after 
 convincing them that longer resistance was impossible, he 
 offered them the same terms that he had proposed before 
 their wall had been shattered by a shot. The garrison, ife. 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAHS". 89" 
 
 • may easily be believed, gladl}'- embraced the offer thus made 
 them ; and according to the articles of capitulation, issued 
 forth from Manfredonia, and joined themselves to the army 
 of their conqueror. 
 
 Gonzalves immediately turned towards Tarentum, and 
 laid siege to it in form ; though the great strength of the- 
 place, the number of the garrison, and the care with which 
 Prederic had furnished it with provisions of every kind,, 
 prognosticated but too surely that many a month would be 
 consumed before it could be forced to surrender. 
 
 Situated originally upon a small promontory, jutting out 
 some way into the sea, Tarentum had been separated from 
 the land for the purpose of defence. The only approach to 
 it was by two bridges, which, crossing the cut that had been 
 made in the isthmus, were defended at the extremities next 
 the town by two strong forts. 
 
 The garrison consisted of six thousand chosen men, sup- 
 plied by immense magazines. Water was abundant, the side 
 towards the sea was perfectly inaccessible to any means of 
 attack known at that period ; and every person incapable of 
 active service had previously been removed from the town. 
 
 When together with these advantages possessed by the- 
 place itself, w^ere considered the disadvantages under which 
 Gonzalves laboured, the scantiness of his forces, the diffi- 
 culty of finding supplies, the want of ammunition, and the 
 distance from which it had to be procured, as well as the 
 failure of remittances to pay his soldiers, the siege of 
 Tarentum seemed one of the most hopeless undertakings in 
 which that great general had ever been involved. 
 
 The timidity of the besieged, however, brought about a 
 capitulation which he had no reason to expect, and which, 
 though he caught at it eagerly from the knowledge of his 
 own inefficient forces, placed him, in the end, in one of the 
 most painful situations in which a man of honourable feel- 
 ing could be found. Nor, indeed, did he extricate himself 
 from the difficulty with the same purity of his renown by 
 which he had hitherto been distinguished. Within the 
 walls of Tarentum, Erederic, on quitting Naples, had placed, 
 as we have said, a well-supplied strong garrison. He had 
 calculated that the place might hold out a year, during the 
 lapse of which dissensions were likely to rise up between:' 
 
f90 GOirZALYES DE COBDOBA, 
 
 the French and Spanish armies that had co-operated to 
 plunder him of his dominions, and consequently his party 
 might still find an opportunity of lifting up its head suffi- 
 ciently to struggle against the divided efforts of both his 
 enemies. For this purpose it was that he had taken such 
 pains to secure Tarentum, and had left therein a garrison 
 which might have easily become an army. That a head to 
 his party might never be wanting, even during his absence, 
 he had left in that city his eldest son, the duke of Calabria, 
 a boy of precocious talents, whose budding graces and early 
 powers had already attached the Neapolitans strongly to 
 his person. This very circumstance, however, through the 
 weakness of those to whose care he committed his last point 
 •of defence, proved the ruin of his cause for ever. 'No 
 sooner had Gronzalves invested Tarentum, as far as his 
 scanty forces permitted, than the preceptor of the young 
 prince, taking fright before a gun had been fired, called 
 into consultation the governor, represented to him the 
 dangers to which the young prince would be exposed during 
 a lengthened siege, and proposed that negotiations should 
 be entered into with the Spanish commander, for the pur- 
 pose of averting the horrors of war without compromising 
 the liberty of the young duke of Calabria. There is nothing 
 so infectious as timidity ; and the governor — as brave a 
 man as ever drew a sword — suffered himself to be tainted 
 with the cowardly policy of the prince's guardian. Mes- 
 sengers were in consequence despatched to Gronzalves, 
 offering the surrender of the town at the end of six months, 
 in case the siege should not be raised by that time, and 
 upon condition that every person without distinction should 
 be permitted to retire from the city, and proceed whither- 
 soever he would without let or hindrance on the part of 
 ■Spain. 
 
 Gonzalves was but too willing to accede to -such a pro- 
 posal, but to cover his eagerness he hesitated about the 
 time to be granted, and demanded that it should be reduced 
 to four months instead of six ; in other respects leaving the 
 tbesieged to draw out the treaty as they thought fit. 
 
 His demand was conceded to, and the governor, together 
 with the preceptor of the young prince, framed the treaty 
 wof capitulation with scrupulous exactness, taking care that 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIIf. 91 
 
 it should be specified in more tlian one place, that the 
 prince should have free permission to retire wheresoever he 
 should determine. 
 
 Gonzalves signed the treaty ; and to give it more authen- 
 ticity, took an oath in presence of both armies, that he 
 would observe the conditions truly and faithfully, and there- 
 upon received the sacrament with all the solemn formalities 
 of the E-oman Church. 
 
 "We would fain pause here and pass over the rest of this 
 transaction in silence, but truth must be spoken. 
 
 A copy of the treaty was sent to Eerdinand, king of 
 Spain, who at once saw how much his interest demanded 
 that the son and heir of the king whom he was plundering 
 of his dominions should not escape so easily from his 
 power. But Ferdinand loved the reputation of being a 
 conscientious man ; and to keep both his character and the 
 duke of Calabria, he summoned together an anomalous sort 
 of court for the purpose of deciding whether he had not a 
 right to violate the treaty contracted in his name. The 
 •obedient court determined that, notwithstanding the full 
 powers conferred upon Gonzalves when he took the com- 
 mand of the army, he was not authorized to enter into a 
 treaty of such consequence except as referable to the 
 ultimate decision of his sovereign. To have recalled him, 
 however, to answer for thus overstepping his authority 
 would in no degree have suited Ferdinand's purpose, and 
 he therefore gave orders to Gonzalves to let everything pass 
 quietly during the specified time of truce ; but at the end of 
 that period, when the city should be delivered up, to make 
 himself master of the young duke's person, and to send him 
 forthwith into Spain. 
 
 It appears that Gonzalves did remonstrate warmly against 
 the iniquity of the proceeding, and represented to the king, 
 that not only his word was pledged as a man of honour, 
 but that his conscience as a Christian was engaged by an 
 oath taken upon the communion. 
 
 To this Ferdinand replied, that the first honour of a 
 soldier consisted in serving well his king. At the same 
 time, to quiet his general's conscience, he referred Gon- 
 zalves's doubts to the same court whose decision had so 
 successfully tranquillized his own. The court, which waa 
 
92 GONZALVES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 composed of many a reverend authority, immediately decided 
 that the oath which Gonzalves had taken in receiving the 
 command of the army, to obey the orders of his sovereign in 
 every point, was paramount to all others, and completely 
 annulled the subsequent engagement which he had made to 
 the king's enemies. 
 
 Gonzalves was satisfied with their decision, suffered the 
 four months to expire without breathing a word of the 
 meditated treachery ; allowed the garrison to march forth 
 as he had promised ; but to the eternal infamy of himself 
 and his master, arrested the young duke of Calabria on the 
 shore as he was about to embark, and sent him to Spain, not- 
 withstanding the remonstrances, entreaties, and repi:oache& 
 of those he had aided in so cruelly deceiving. 
 
 It is hard — it is very hard, that we scarcely meet with one 
 great man in history who has had the charity to transmit a 
 brilliant name to posterity without some damning stain to 
 make it as much a warning as an example. 
 
 Several persons have attempted to defend Gonzalves for 
 obeying the commands of Ferdinand on the principles on 
 which those commands were given. The matter, however, 
 will not bear an argument. Gonzalves had power, or he had 
 not, to grant such terms as he did to the garrison of Taren- 
 tum. If he had not, he was culpable in having granted them. 
 If he had, he was still more culpable in violating them. In 
 regard to his oath of obedience to Ferdinand, no oath can be 
 binding upon any man except under certain restrictions, for 
 there are duties imposed upon us by our very state of being 
 from which no oath can exempt us ; there are duties which 
 we owe to ourselves, commonly classed together under the 
 word honour, and duties which we owe to our God, from 
 which no contract with any other being can free us. Gon- 
 zalves violated both those sorts of duty in making himself 
 the instrument of Ferdinand's treachery against his oath 
 registered in heaven, and his honour plighted towards men, 
 and the record of that disgrace remains a withering spot 
 upon his laurels for ever. Nor is it difficult to say what he 
 should have done. He should have refused to make him- 
 self a villain ; and if his sense of duty towards Ferdinand 
 prevented him from publishing in the ears of the besieged 
 the treason that was plotting against them, he should never 
 
THE OEEAT CAPTAHS". 93 
 
 liave consented to be the perpetrator of it himself. He 
 should have resigned his command for ever — ay, and laid his 
 head beneath the axe rather than have left so dark a blotch 
 upon the escutcheon of his honour. Another reproach has 
 been cast upon Gronzalves for an action which took place 
 xibout this period of his life, but in which he is much less 
 blameworthy than in his conduct towards the garrison of 
 Tarentum. 
 
 "We have before said, that even at the commencement of 
 the siege, the pay of his soldiers had been suffered to fall 
 very much into arrear, and consequently every day their 
 murmurs became louder and more loud. At length, how- 
 ever, the French Admiral Kavestin, in returning from an 
 unsuccessful attempt upon the island of Mitylene, was 
 wrecked with the greater part of his fleet upon Cerigo, and 
 lost not only the whole of his warlike stores but even found 
 himself without the necessaries of life. Gonzalves no 
 sooner heard of his situation, than with that profuse libe- 
 rality for which he had been noted from his youth, he im- 
 mediately sent him abundant supplies, not only of those 
 things absolutely necessary to his comfort, but of luxuries 
 and ornaments — vests, horses, caparisons, furs, beds, and 
 plate. This ill-timed generosity to strangers, though fur- 
 nished from his private fortune, irritated his already discon- 
 tented soldiers, till symptoms of general revolt manifested 
 themselves throughout the army. 
 
 Fortune, however, compelled a Genoese vessel to enter 
 the harbour of Tarentum, then blockaded by the Spanish 
 fleet. Immediate orders were issued for seizing the ship 
 and her rich cargo, and as a pretence for confiscating both, 
 it was averred that she was engaged in carrying military 
 stores to Constantinople for the service of the great enemy 
 of Christendom. Every thing on board was therefore de- 
 clared to be forfeited and sold accordingly, from the pro- 
 duce of which Gonzalves drew a sufficient sum to pay 
 his mutinous troops, and reduced them once more to 
 obedience. 
 
 Genoa of course did not fail to remonstrate with the 
 Spanish general against his ungenerous breach of the 
 friendly relations existing between her government and the 
 king of Spain. Gonzalves, however, boldly pleaded neces- 
 
94 GONZALVBS DE COEDOBA, 
 
 sity, without sheltering himself under any other excuse^ 
 The general of an army, he said, had only to look to 
 success, and in times of danger all means were justifiable, 
 providing the persons suffering at the time, were afterwards 
 indemnified for the loss they had sustained. 
 
 The maxim was a dangerous one, but one too often acted 
 upon, to be without many a precedent. Whether in this 
 matter the indemnification ever took place or not, does not 
 appear. 
 
 The kingdom of Naples was now entirely occupied by 
 Prench and Spanish forces. The party of Frederic might 
 be considered as at an end, and Ferdinand and Louis had 
 now nothing left but to divide the spoil. The happy ambi- 
 guity of language, without which almost all contentions 
 would soon expire from inanition, easily furnished the two 
 monarchs with a seemly pretext for trying their strength 
 in the arena which they had won. A dispute about boun- 
 daries arose from the wording of the treaty, originating 
 first between Gonzalves and the duke of JSTemours. The 
 question was then referred to the two kings, who both 
 declared they were too little acquainted with the country to 
 settle the dispute, and again bade ther generals decide. 
 Their generals took them at their word, and the sword was 
 drawn on both sides. 
 
 Ferdinand's confidence in Gonzalves must indeed have 
 been great, for he seems not to have doubted for a moment 
 his ultimate success, although on the very first rupture with 
 France he was obliged to retreat before the enemy, far 
 superior in number to his own forces, and shut himself 
 up in the small town of Barletta, on the sea coast. The 
 French followed close upon his track, and had they em- 
 ployed their whole force at once in a vigorous attack upon 
 the town, which was but weakly fortified, it is probable that 
 Gonzalves would have been obliged either to capitulate, or, 
 throwing himself into his vessels, to have abandoned Italy 
 for the time. 
 
 The faults of his adversaries are at least as serviceable 
 to a good general as his own talents, and Gonzalves had 
 time to strengthen himself in Earletta, while the duke of 
 !N^emours contented himself with investing the place by 
 land, though it could at all times be fully supplied by sea.. 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIIS". 05 
 
 The French general did not, it is true, employ his whole 
 troops in this one object, but despatched four thousand 
 foot, and about the same force of horse, into Calabria, under 
 Marshal d'Aubigny, who had commanded in that district 
 during the former war. We cannot follow d'Aubigny 
 farther, than to say, that he was at first eminently suc- 
 cessful, and again in the neighbourhood of Manfredonia^ 
 gained a complete victory over a superior body of Sicilian 
 troops. 
 
 In the meanwhile, G-onzalves remained firm in Earletta, 
 not only acting the part of a great general, but also of 
 a skilful negotiator, treating — now with the Emperor 
 Maximilian, and showing him how deeply his interests were 
 involved in those of Spain, and how much necessity there 
 existed for his instant and powerful co-operation — now with 
 Yenice, leading the wily lords of the Adriatic to send him 
 supplies and to furnish the nerves of war, even though they 
 dared not openly break their French alliance. Still the 
 duke of Nemours pressed him hard, closing in upon him 
 with his forces, and cutting off all communication with the 
 land. The supplies from sea became rarer also in Barletta. 
 Some of the vessels fell into the hands of the enemy, some 
 were detained by contrary winds, some were not despatched 
 when they should have been, so that famine and necessity 
 began to rage in the garrison. The soldiers were starved 
 and nearly naked, and, many were the murmurs, as, looking 
 out day after day over the wide sea, they found that the 
 promised supplies did not appear. But still Gronzalves held 
 firm to his purpose, and at length, to the joy of the garrison, 
 and the despair of the besiegers, the sails of the Venetians 
 filled the harbour of Barletta, bringing abundant supplies 
 both of food and raiment. 
 
 The spirits of the Spaniards which had sunk painfully 
 during the time of dearth, now rose in proportion, and 
 Gonzalves took care, by continual sorties and skirmishes, to 
 keep the French in active employment, and to exercise his 
 own troops, turn by turn, in every sort of warfare. 
 
 Many were the defiances between individuals of ona 
 army and of the other, and many the feats of chivalry which 
 were performed between the two hosts. In one instances- 
 eleven Spanish knights w^^re pitted in preconcerted combat 
 
i)Q GONZAliVES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 4igainst eleven gentlemen of Prance, amongst whom appeared 
 the famous Chevalier Bajard. The combat, which took 
 place on this occasion, is variously detailed by various 
 writers, and so different are the circumstances related by 
 each, that were not the names of the champions and the 
 date of the battle the same, no one would believe that the 
 same event was alluded to by any two of the persons who 
 have described it. It is unnecessary in this place to 
 endeavour even to separate the particles of truth that are 
 scattered through the several accounts, or to describe a 
 single combat which took place shortly after between. 
 Bayard and a Spanish oflScer called Sotomayor, and which 
 has been well described elsewhere. Suffice it that these 
 single combats and individual strifes occasioned a degree of 
 bitterness and personal rivalry between the Spanish and 
 French troops, which characterized the whole of the sub- 
 sequent war. The spirit of bravado was even carried so far, 
 that the duke of Nemours at last advanced with his whole 
 force within half a league of Barletta, and despatched a 
 herald to Gonzalves daring him to come forth and meet the 
 French army in the open field. Gronzalves received the 
 message with the same sort of half mirthful scorn which a 
 man might be supposed to feel on being challenged by some 
 impetuous boy ; and thanking the gallant duke ibr his 
 courtesy, he bade him wait till the Spaniards had shod their 
 horses, and sharpened their swords. By this time the 
 French were completely weary of a siege which produced 
 and promised nothing ; nor was any one more tired of the 
 enterprise than Nemours himself, a gay and splendid prince, 
 who loved war as a diversion, but understood it not as a 
 science. At length, with his patience exhausted by the 
 calm perseverance of Gronzalves, yet not daring to attempt 
 the storming of Barletta, he determined to decamp and 
 undertake some other enterprise of a more hopeful com- 
 plexion. 
 
 Gonzalves, however, did not suffer him to depart unmo- 
 lested ; and, having discovered that the French general had 
 sent on his artillery and infantry, and had also detached 
 two considerable bodies of men in different directions, he 
 instantly commanded a large corps of Spanish cavalry under 
 an officer named Mendoza to fall upon the rear of the 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIK. 97 
 
 Prench army, while two regiments of infantry were thrown 
 forward in ambush. 
 
 ]N"o sooner did the French cavalry which formed the rear- 
 guard of Nemours' s army find themselves pursued, than, 
 wheeling about, they made one of those brilliant charges 
 for which the horse of that nation have always been famous. 
 The Spaniards gave way, feigning to be overborne by the 
 shock, and the French inconsiderately pursued them for a 
 considerable distance. At that moment the Spanish in- 
 fantry appeared, and, extending their flanks, completely 
 insulated the rear-guard of the French, while a fresh body 
 of Italian cavalry coming to the aid of the Spaniards, the 
 whole at once reassumed its order, and charged the French 
 in turn with most fatal effect. The imprudent Frenchmen 
 sustained the action for some time with much bravery ; but 
 at length the greater part being cut to pieces or made pri- 
 soners, the rest were fain to turn their horses' heads, and 
 make their escape the best way they could. 
 
 The small town of Castellanetto, at a short distance from 
 Tarentum, had been chosen by the duke of JSTemours as 
 the chief magazine for his army before Barletta; but he 
 had imprudently neglected either to secure it by fresh for- 
 tifications, or by a garrison strong enough to put its safety 
 beyond a doubt. The troops that were thrown into it were 
 also of the most licentious class ; and they soon contrived 
 to inspire the inhabitants with so much horror and disgust, 
 that in consequence a deputation was sent to Gonzalves, 
 offering to open the gates of the city to any force he might 
 send, for the purpose of delivering it from the contaminating 
 presence of the French. 
 
 Gronzalves did not neglect the opportunity, and accordingly 
 a strong body of Spaniards were admitted duriug the night, 
 and the whole French garrison made prisoners in their sleep. 
 The supplies found in the place were instantly transferred 
 to Barletta, where they were much needed ; and the duke of 
 ^Nemours was about the same time informed of the conse- 
 quences of his own imprudence. Mortified and enraged, he 
 instantly marched upon Castellanetto, resolved to retake it 
 whatever it might cost ; but the Spanish garrison had been 
 more prudent than the French. The burghers looked upon 
 them as deliverers, and seconded all their efforts. Incessant 
 
 H 
 
98 GONZALYES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 works had been carried on to strengthen the fortifications of 
 the place ; and even when the cannon of the duke's army- 
 had ruined the wall, which had been the only defence while 
 he had occupied the town, he found he was just as far from 
 success as when he had commenced the siege. 
 
 Eesolved, however, not to be repulsed, he had given 
 orders for storming the next day ; and, considering the 
 immense force he brought to the assault, as well as the 
 small number of the garrison, it can hardly be doubted that 
 he would have been successful. 
 
 Gronzalves, however, had not been idle during his absence ; 
 and, without directly attempting to succour Castellanetto, 
 he took care that news should reach the duke of Nemours 
 which would compel him to raise the siege. 
 
 One of the strongest posts in possession of the Erench 
 was the small town of Kuvo, situated at the foot of the 
 Appenines. Nemours had taken care to furnish it with a 
 garrison in proportion to its importance ; and the famous 
 Chabanes de la Palice, one of the best officers in the French 
 service, commanded there with three thousand chosen 
 soldiers. Gonzalves, however, resolved, notwithstanding 
 the difficulty of the undertaking, that the absence of the 
 duke of Nemours should at least cost him Euvo; and, 
 leaving but a small garrison in Barletta, he marched with 
 his whole army towards the Appenines, battered the wall of 
 the city during one day, and then commanded a general 
 assault. The French fought every inch of ground, and 
 even met the storming parties without the walls ; but at 
 length, after a combat of many hours, their general being 
 wounded and their numbers terribly diminished, they were 
 forced to give way. The Spaniards penetrated into the 
 town on every side, and a dreadful massacre took place, 
 which it was impossible for some time to stay. At length, 
 however, Gonzalves succeeded in stopping the effusion of 
 blood, and returned the next day to Barletta in triumph, 
 taking with him as prisoners not only the whole of the sur- 
 viving garrison, but the greater part of the inhabitants of 
 the town. The women, whom he had carried off for the 
 purpose of protecting them from the soldiers he had left 
 behind, not yet sated with the license of a storm, he sent 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIIT. 90 
 
 l)ack after a few days in all honour. From the men of the 
 €ity he required a trifling ransom ; but with regard to the 
 troops, he refused to ransom them, in reprisal for some acts 
 of a similar nature which had been committed by the duke 
 of I^emours. 
 
 The foot soldiers he sent on board the galleys — an act for 
 which many persons have imputed to him a native cruelty 
 of disposition, which in truth he did not possess. Gonzalves' 
 excuse was the necessity of diminishing to the utmost extent 
 the forces of the enemy, and the impossibility under which 
 he lay of either guarding or feeding on land the prisoners 
 he had made. 
 
 The news of the attack of E/Uvo instantly caused the 
 duke of Nemours to raise the siege of Castellanetto, and to 
 march to the assistance of la Palice. On his arrival, how- 
 ever, he found that Gonzalves had prevailed, and that a 
 strong garrison occupied the fortress for the king of Spain. 
 This determined him instantly to take up a position at a 
 small distance from Barletta, in such a manner as to secure 
 his own retreat in case of necessity, and yet to straiten the 
 supplies of Gonzalves as much as possible ; but though he 
 succeeded in his object in some degree, two new events 
 soon occurred which forced him to change his measures 
 precipitately. The first was the complete defeat and cap- 
 ture of Marshal d'Aubigny, near Gioia. That general 
 presuming much too far upon the good fortune which had 
 heretofore attended his arms, had offered battle to a superior 
 force composed of Spaniards and Sicilians, and, with the 
 usual fate of men who count upon the constancy of fortune, 
 had met with a severe reverse ; he had seen his army routed 
 ^nd dispersed, and had been obliged to surrender, after in 
 vain endeavouring to defend Angitola, to which place he 
 had escaped after his defeat. This was not the only mor- 
 tifying news which reached the duke of Nemours about this 
 time. Two thousand veteran Germans, raised by Octavian 
 Colonna under the sanction of the Emperor Maximilian, 
 now arrived in Italy, and joined Gonzalves in Barletta. 
 With such a reinforcement it was not likely that the Spanish 
 general should confine himself to a defensive posture any 
 longer; and Nemours saw that it would need his whole 
 
 H 2 
 
100 GONZALVES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 strength to oppose with any probability of success a strong 
 and well-disciplined army, headed by the most skilful general 
 of the age. 
 
 He instantly therefore despatched messengers to call in 
 the greater part of his detached forces, but especially to 
 command the junction of Aquaviva, one of his steadiest 
 friends and most prudent counsellors. 
 
 Gronzalves was at the same time preparing to issue from 
 Barletta with all speed ; for the reinforcement which he had 
 received from Grermany not only enabled but compelled him 
 to do so. Provisions, which had been obtained with diflS.- 
 culty for his former force, were not to be found in sufficient 
 quantities after the arrival of the Grermans ; and amongst 
 these last, soon after their arrival, a contagious disease 
 began to appear, which was attributed to the change from 
 the inland climate of Germany to the bad air on the sea- 
 coast of Calabria. 
 
 Previously to any decisive movement, however, Gonzalves 
 called in all the troops which could be spared from the dif- 
 ferent garrisons which he still maintained, and a strong 
 body marched down to join him from Tarentum and the 
 adjacent country, under the command of Navarro and 
 Errera. On their journey a party of Navarro's troops by 
 chance intercepted a letter from Aquaviva, in which his 
 purpose of joining the duke of Nemours and his line of 
 march were detailed at length. 
 
 The Spanish officers immediately determined to lie 
 in ambush for him, and having well concerted their plan, 
 they succeeded in surprising the troops commanded by 
 Aquaviva, cut great part of them to pieces, and either put 
 to flight or made prisoners of the rest. Amongst the 
 captured was Aquaviva himself ; and thus having deprived 
 the duke of Nemours of a strong reinforcement and 
 a valuable counsellor, Navarro and Errera proceeded with 
 their prisoners and safely effected their junction with 
 Gonzalves. 
 
 That general now marched forth from Barletta, and 
 proceeded as quickly as possible to take up a strong 
 position, in order to give battle to the duke of Nemours, 
 by whom he doubted not that he should soon be overtaken. 
 He turned his steps, at the same time, towards Ceregnola, 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIN. ^ ' ^ '101 ' 
 
 -with the intention of besieging that town in case the 
 [French general did not choose to risk a battle. The move- 
 ments of Nemours, however, soon showed that he sought 
 no delay, and on the 28th of April, 1503, the Spanish and 
 [French armies appeared in sight of each other, ready to cast 
 the whole hopes ot the campaign on the issue of an 
 evening's strife. Gonzalves had taken advantage of a rise 
 in the ground, and had also occupied an extensive vineyard, 
 the ditch of which he had continued along the greater part 
 of his line, fortifying himself still more securely by a 
 low parapet of earth, behind which were dug pits, and 
 stakes were planted, to embarrass the cavalry of the French, 
 His infantry occupied the centre of the line, and the 
 cavalry formed the wings. ISTo battle has ever been more 
 variously narrated, and all that seems certain is, that the 
 attack began with the French ; that the French were com- 
 pletely defeated, and fled with most unseemly confusion; 
 that the Spaniards suffered but little, and lost no officers of 
 distinction ; and that the French left several thousands 
 dead, amongst whom were two general officers, Chandenier 
 and the gallant duke of Nemours himself. 
 
 In regard to the death of the latter there are as many 
 and as various accounts of his death as there are of every 
 other incident of that day. One author declares that 
 the duke in person led on the first charge of cavalry, and 
 finding his progress stopped by the parapet and ditch, rode 
 along the whole line, endeavouring to find a passage. In 
 this attempt he was of course exposed to the fire of all the 
 Spanish infantry, and at length was struck by a ball which 
 laid him dead upon the spot. 
 
 Another account, however, given by an eyewitness of the 
 battle, states, with more appearance of truth, that the duke 
 "wished to lead on the charge, but was persuaded by 
 his officers to refrain, and remained to issue his commands 
 on a small mound commanding the whole field. When the 
 battle had continued a short time, he saw the Swiss 
 retreating in disorder after the death of Chandenier, and 
 forgetting all but the enthusiasm of the moment, he put 
 himself at their head, led them back to the charge, and 
 getting mingled in the battle, soon found himself with 
 a single attendant in face of a large body of Spanish 
 
102 teaiFSALTES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 arquebusiers. The dust was so thick that it was scarcely 
 possible to tell friend from foe, and the duke at first rode 
 on to within twenty yards of their line. Escape was 
 then impossible — the enemy's arquebuses were levelled, 
 and to save the life of his lord, even at the expense of his 
 liberty, the attendant vociferated the prince's name, and 
 offered to surrender, but in the confusion that existed, the 
 Spanish infantry neither heard nor attended. They fired at 
 once, and the duke fell ; while the soldiers passed on, not 
 even knowing what they had done. 
 
 Eattles can seldom be judged but by their results. !N"o 
 country loves to own itself defeated, and even if there 
 be possibility of denying the absolute fact, vanity has 
 a thousand ways of taking away the sting, and making 
 the disgrace seem very like a triumph. The best Prench 
 historians do not hesitate to admit the loss of this battle. 
 
 Such battles, however, as the battle of Ceregnola, leave 
 behind them sufficient proofs to establish the claim of the 
 victor. The camp, the baggage, and the treasure of the 
 Prench army fell into the hands of the Spaniards, and the 
 party of Prance from that moment became feeble and 
 languid throughout the rest of the war. 
 
 Gonzalves marched on rapidly for Waples, and met witb 
 but little opposition by the way. Place after place sur- 
 rendered without resistance, and, at many leagues' distance, 
 he was met by deputies from the fickle inhabitants of 
 ^N'aples, congratulating him on his successes, and offering 
 him the keys of their city. The entrance of the Spanish 
 general into Naples was pompous and magnificent in 
 the extreme, and he received immediately the oath of 
 the principal inhabitants, who swore allegiance to Perdinand 
 on their knees, before his general. This assumption of 
 almost royal state was doubtless ultimately the cause 
 of suspicions in the breast of Perdinand, which ruined 
 the fortunes of Gonzalves. At present, however, his con- 
 fidence in his victorious general was unbounded, and though 
 peace between Prance and Spain was concluded and 
 signed, yet Gonzalves, under the private orders of his 
 wily monarch, continued boldly the war, taking fortress 
 after fortress in Naples, which had long been nominally 
 ceded to another. The duplicity of Perdinand, in all hia 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIK". 103 
 
 relations with Trance about this period would be well 
 worthy of record, had we space to trace it through its 
 manifold involutions. It must suffice us, however, to state, 
 that he sent the archduke of Austria, his son-in-law, to the 
 court of France, with full powers to treat for peace. He 
 discussed each article of the treaty with formal minuteness, 
 and at length, after every plausible pretext, ratified the 
 peace, when he had never for one moment entertained the 
 least idea of ceasing hostilities, and only sought to gain 
 time, that the reinforcements sent to the army commanded 
 by Gonzalves might arrive in ISTaples. Gonzalves had his 
 instructions also to continue the war, and consequently, 
 though the archduke, who had been completely deceived by 
 his father-in-law, sent courier after courier to announce the 
 peace and command an immediate suspension of arms ; the 
 Spanish general merely replied, that he had no authority 
 from his own sovereign to pause, and therefore must pro- 
 ceed according to his first directions. 
 
 On the arrival of Gonzalves in the city of Naples, the 
 Prench garrisons had retired into the various forts, concen- 
 trating their principal force in the two citadels, called, the 
 one the New Castle, and the other the Castle of the Egg ; 
 and, expecting hourly succour from a fleet sent from Genoa 
 to their aid, they prepared for a vigorous resistance. The 
 same information which inspired them with resolution 
 to hold out to the last, made it necessary for Gonzalves to 
 force them to surrender without delay, and applying once 
 more to the talents of Peter Navarro, he showed him the 
 necessity of prompt measures, and desired his instant 
 co-operation. Navarro did not fail his general at this 
 moment of difficulty, but having recourse to the expedient 
 which had so well succeeded at Cephalonia, he proceeded to 
 mine the New Citadel, while Gonzalves battered and took 
 a small fort called the Tower of St. Vincent. No sooner 
 was the mine sufficiently excavated, than Gonzalves once 
 more summoned the garrison to surrender, assuring them 
 that, in case of his offer being rejected, he would, within 
 five minutes, bury them under the walls of their castle. 
 The practice of mining being then, as we have said, but 
 little known, the French garrison laughed at the threat of 
 Gonzalves as an absurd Spanish bravado. They had soon, 
 
104 GOKZALTES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 however, reason to repent tbeir incredulity, for, when 
 the herald's return had given Gonzalves the assurance that 
 his terms were rejected, he ordered the mine to be sprung, 
 which was instantly done with terrible effect. The Spanish 
 troops immediately rushed forward to the attack, pene- 
 trated at once into the outer ballium, and drove the 
 garrison back sword in hand over the drawbridge, which 
 they had no time to raise. No resource remained to the 
 Prench but a vast iron door in the archway, which they 
 instantly closed against their pursuers, and endeavoured to 
 secure with bolts. A party of the Spaniards, however, had 
 mingled with them in their flight, and had entered the 
 inner court along with them. At the head of these was 
 Gonzalves himself, fighting like a private soldier. He 
 instantly collected his men in the archway : those who were 
 attempting to fasten the iron door were slain or driven 
 back, and the barrier being thus removed, the Spaniards at 
 once rushed in, and slaughtered all the French they found 
 in arms. The plunder was immense, and the bloodshed 
 terrible, though, from the moment the victory was assured, 
 Gonzalves used all his authority to put a stop to both. He 
 wished especially to preserve the magazine of provisions ; 
 but the regular pay of his soldiers was much in arrear, 
 and they boldly contended that they had a right to 
 pay themselves by the plunder they could make. As they 
 were willing, however, to sell at a very inferior price 
 what they had acquired at the expense of their blood, 
 Gonzalves, whose mind always hurried forward to provide 
 for the future, repurchased from his own purse the stores 
 necessary to supply the fortress for some time after he had 
 garrisoned it with Spanish troops. The Castle of the Egg 
 still remained to be taken, and Gonzalves immediately sent 
 a flag of truce, representing to the commander the fate of 
 his companions, and praying him, for the sake of humanity, 
 to spare him the pain of shedding more blood, by con- 
 senting to an honourable capitulation. Chavagnac, the 
 governor, was not to be intimidated ; and, in reply to Gon- 
 zalves, he declared his readiness to follow the glorious 
 example set him by the garrison of the New Castle. There 
 being no resource, Gonzalves immediately commanded 
 Navarro to mine ; and, though the rock was of a harder and 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAlISr. 105 
 
 more impenetrable nature than any he had before attempted, 
 everything was complete at the end of twenty days. 
 Willing, however, to make one more effort to save so much 
 bloodshed, Gonzalves again summoned the governor, warn- 
 ing him of his danger. The reply was the same. The 
 mine was then sprung ; and it would seem that the very 
 hardness of the rock gave it more intense and concentrated 
 fury, for the whole castle was nearly laid in ruins, and 
 a third of the garrison buried under the walls. It required, 
 however, no small effort to take possession of the ruins, 
 for each man of the garrison had made up his mind to die, 
 and each man did die, where he stood. 
 
 The day after the fall of this last fort the Prench fleet 
 appeared in the bay; but finding the Spanish flag flying 
 both on the city and on the forts, it steered towards Ischia, 
 from which place it was again driven by the cannon of the 
 fortress. 
 
 By this time the bad faith of Ferdinand, king of Spain, 
 had been revealed through all its disguises, and appeared in 
 all its deformity. It now became evident to Louis XII. 
 that the last thing desired by the Spanish monarch was 
 peace ; and, indignant at his treachery, he instantly com- 
 manded the ambassadors of Spain to quit his court, while 
 without delay he drew upon all the resources of his power- 
 ful kingdom to prepare for a war which, based upon revenge 
 and indignation, bade fair to be one of the most sanguinary 
 and inveterate which had ever yet desolated the world. Of 
 the five armaments which were instantly equipped for the 
 attack of Spain in her different possessions, we can only 
 follow two, — one of which, commanded by the marquis de 
 Saluces, was to proceed by sea, and to land at the first port 
 open to the French in the JSTeapolitan kingdom, — the other, 
 commanded by the famous Tremouille, which, entering Italy 
 by the Milanese, marched also directly for Naples. 
 
 Pursuing his conquests, Gronzalves, after the reduction of 
 the citadels which we have before mentioned, proceeded 
 towards Caietta, in which place the French general Alegre 
 had fortified himself after the defeat at Cerignola. The army 
 of Spain, however, was hardly equal to the undertaking, 
 even at the commencement of the siege, and was repulsed 
 with considerable loss from the outworks which Alegre had 
 
108 GOBTZALYES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 constructed round the town ; but ere long the improbability 
 of success was changed to a certainty of failure, by the 
 arrival of the marquis de Saluces in the harbour, accom- 
 panied by six thousand men, and escorted by a fleet fully 
 sufficient to keep open every channel of supply. Thus, 
 finding that no hope existed of either taking the city by 
 assault or forcing it to surrender by famine, Gronzalves 
 retired in order to cover the extent of country he had 
 gained from the army of La Tremouille, which was now 
 marching forward through the states of the Church. The 
 situation of the Spanish general had now become one of 
 great difficulty and danger. Menaced on all sides by very 
 superior armies, he had no prospect of immediate reinforce- 
 ments, and was in total want of money to pay his troops. 
 He had been obliged to divide his forces in order to secure 
 the strong places he had taken, and he could not call upon 
 them to join the army under his own command without 
 leaving all the fortresses of the kingdom open to be taken 
 instant possession of by a power who could far better afford 
 to diminish its numbers than he himself could. In shorty 
 with a very small force, he had to defend a large tract of 
 country against a very superior enemy, and this under a 
 jealous and suspicious sovereign, ever as prone to punish 
 misfortune as he was disinclined to reward merit. To 
 hesitate or to fear, however, was not in the nature of Gron- 
 zalves de Cordoba; and even while expecting every day 
 the formidable army commanded by Saluces, to be joined by 
 the still more imposing force under La Tremouille, he lost 
 not a moment's time, but called every single soldier to his 
 standard that could be spared from the various garrisons. 
 
 With his army thus considerably increased, he was 
 watching the movements of the enemy, when an event 
 occurred that by its consequences threw infinitely greater 
 power into his hands, and acted in some degree in counter- 
 balancing the great preponderance of the Erench power in 
 Italy. This event was the decease of Pope Alexander VI.^ 
 poisoned, it is said, at a banquet, by a drug prepared by his 
 own natural son for another person. Thus retribution whips 
 us with our own vices. Alexander had, it is true, leaned ta 
 the side of Ferdinand ; but the interest of his son, the 
 famous Ctesar Borgia, had prevented him from following his 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIN. 107 
 
 inclination, and bound him unwillingly to the party of 
 Erance. Through the influence of his authority a multi- 
 tude of Spanish noblemen served with their retainers in the 
 army by means of which Caesar Borgia was endeavouring to 
 make himself master of the north of Italy ; and a great 
 many of the chief families of Italy, afraid of encountering^ 
 the united power of the Pope and the king of France, buried 
 in their own bosoms their detestation of the name of Borgia. 
 The death of Alexander, however, dissolved all such ties ; 
 and Gonzalves instantly strained every nerve, both to recall 
 to the standard of their native sovereign such Spaniards as 
 had fought — not against Spain, in truth, but in the ranks 
 of her enemies — and to attach to his master every Italian 
 whom the death of Alexander had left comparatively free. 
 In each of these endeavours he was eminently successful. 
 The Spaniards joined him almost to a man ; and the Orsini 
 family, with all its friends and allies, led the way in declaring 
 its attachment to the crown of Spain. 
 
 In the meanwhile La Tremouille, having fallen sick in the 
 neighbourhood of Eome, had retired to Milan for the re- 
 establishment of his health ; and his troops paused on their 
 road, both to wait his recovery and to influence the election 
 of the last Pope's successor. The hopes of Louis XII. were 
 now raised to the highest point, in expectation of a nomina- 
 tion entirely accordant with his interests, which would in all 
 probability have placed the whole of Italy in his power. 
 For this purpose he pressed upon the conclave his admirable 
 friend and minister the Cardinal d'Amboise; but neither 
 Louis nor the cardinal were equal to cope in intrigue with 
 the wily ecclesiastics of Italy. The cardinal of St. Peter's, 
 whose interest was great in the conclave, promised all his 
 influence to the French monarch, as did Cardinal Sforza, 
 the brother of the deposed duke of Milan ; but both of 
 course considered their own interest in the first instance ;. 
 and Francisco Picoluomini, cardinal of St. Eustacia, was 
 unanimously elected by the conclave. 
 
 ISio one could object to his elevation, as in life and' 
 manners he was exemplary, and in talents and learning 
 equal to any of his competitors ; but still it is more than 
 probable that the true cause of his election was neither to 
 be found in his virtues or his genius, but rather in his aga 
 
108 GONZALYES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 and his incurable infirmities. The death of Alexander had 
 been sudden, and the cardinal of St. Peter's, who destined 
 the tiara ultimately for his own head, had not had time to 
 prepare his party fully. He therefore joined his interest to 
 the small body who favoured Picoluomini, and won over 
 others to do the same, perfectly certain that the new head 
 •of the church would soon leave the papal throne vacant for 
 . himself. 
 
 As he had foreseen, so it proved ; and he had barely time 
 by his intrigues to insure himself success in the next elec- 
 tion before Pius III. descended to the tomb. The conclave 
 was immediately called, the cardinal of St. Peter elected, 
 and, taking the name of Julius II., he declared himself at 
 once the enemy of the Prench party in Italy. 
 
 Thus fortune seemed willing to support the cause of 
 Spain against all that menaced it ; and Gronzalves took care 
 that the efforts of the fickle goddess in his favour should be 
 w^ell seconded by his own activity. His first care was to 
 snatch from the Prench, who still remained within the 
 [Neapolitan kingdom, those frontier passes which would 
 have afforded to the invading army, now every day expected, 
 the means of marching unopposed into the heart of the 
 country. This was not done without some severe fighting, 
 but at length it was accomplished ; and the Spanish general 
 had time to fortify these advanced posts, in such a manner 
 as to render them almost impregnable before the Prench 
 army appeared upon the frontier. 
 
 Manifold impediments had produced great delay in the 
 movements of Prance. The continued illness of La Tre- 
 mouille ; the difficulty of fixing on his successor ; the long 
 pause before Eome, while the election of the new pope was 
 in agitation, and the countermarch which the Prench had 
 been persuaded to make, upon the plea that the choice of 
 the conclave could not be free while they remained in its 
 proximity ; the badness of the roads, now that autumn was 
 fully commenced, and the scarcity of provisions, which had 
 been carried off by the peasantry : all these causes combined 
 to retard the movements of the Prench army, and to harass it 
 on its march ; but it still consisted of nearly thirty-five 
 thousand men — a force far superior to any that Gronzalves 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIN. lOD' 
 
 could bring into the field — and counted in its ranks the 
 elite of the French chivalry. 
 
 The place of La Tremouille had however been very in- 
 efficiently supplied by the marquis of Mantua, who had 
 always hitherto fought against the French, and who both 
 despised them, and was despised by them. He was a man 
 of sense, but not of activity, and totally wanted the fire so 
 necessary in every one who would lead an army of French- 
 men. He was also clearsighted and skilful, prudent and 
 cautious ; but he was as slow in action as he was in deli- 
 beration ; and understood warfare theoretically, without 
 having that quickness of perception which can only make it 
 successful in practice. 
 
 On arriving on the frontiers of Naples he turned off from 
 the posts which Gronzalves had established in the Monte 
 Cassino, declaring them impregnable, notwithstanding all 
 the ardour with which the French officers combated such an 
 opinion ; and proceeding onwards towards the sea, proposed to 
 cross the Grarillano not far from the mouth. ISTo boats being 
 to be procured for the purpose of forming a bridge at the spot 
 where the French prepared to pass, the marquis de Saluces 
 sent up with all speed a sufficient number from G-asta, and 
 the bridge was begun in the sight of the Spanish army^ 
 which had proceeded step by step towards the sea with the 
 French. The bank of the river on the side occupied by the 
 French, commanding the position of the Spanish army, the 
 cannon of the duke soon obliged Gonzalves to retreat, and 
 the bridge was accomplished without difficulty. It wa& 
 now the universal demand amongst the French to be led 
 instantly to the attack of the Spanish army, which, already 
 retreating and annoyed by their cannonade, as well as 
 inferior in number, offered, as it would seem, an opportunity 
 never perhaps to be regained. The marquis of Mantua, 
 however, refused to comply, asserting that it was necessary 
 first, not only to complete the bridge, but to guard it with 
 strong entrenchments ; which doubtless was true under 
 other circumstances, but was not to be considered for a 
 moment, when the onward road was open to almost certain 
 victory. The French army was obliged, however, to retire 
 to their camp, murmuring loudly at their general ; and 
 
110 GONZALVES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 before the next morning Gonzalves had attacked the bridge, 
 cut to pieces those that defended it, and would probably 
 also have succeeded in burning it, had not the artillery on 
 the heights again opened upon him as day began to break, 
 and forced him to abandon the attempt. The bridge, how- 
 ever, was injured greatly, if not completely destroyed ; and 
 this check, together with several others, the recapture of a 
 fortress that had been taken from the Spaniards, and the 
 cold inactivity of tlie marquis of Mantua on all occasions, 
 enraged the French to such a degree, that they passed from 
 murmurs to open insult and complete rebellion. Nor was 
 this insubordination confined to the ranks alone ; the 
 highest officers of the army had been in continued dispute 
 with their general from the first moment of his assuming 
 the command, till, finding at length he was every hour 
 subject to insult, and could not insure obedience from one ' 
 moment to another, the marquis threw up the command, 
 and retired with his own body-guard from the French 
 service. A corps of ten thousand Italians shortly after 
 followed his example and withdrew ; a defection which 
 threw the French into new difficulties, and even brought 
 upon the marquis of Mantua a charge (probably unjust) of 
 treachery towards the party which he abandoned. The 
 marquis de Saluces, however, was now called to the com- 
 mand of the French forces, and with a promptitude worthy 
 of success, proceeded to do all that the inactivity of the 
 former commander had left undone. Gronzalves attempted 
 in vain to impede the construction of a new bridge, and of 
 the redoubts to guard it ; but finding that his efforts for that 
 purpose were, and would still be ineffectual, he at once re- 
 treated and took up a position in the midst of a deep valley, 
 about half a league distant from the bridge. Through this 
 valley the only way to Naples and Capua passed by a 
 narrow ravine, which the French army could not attempt 
 without exposing itself to be cut to pieces in detail. 
 
 Here Gronzalves maintained his position with the same 
 heroic firmness which he had displayed at Barletta, though 
 every thing combined to try his resolution. The winter set 
 in in the beginning of November, a thing unknown in that 
 climate ; the rain poured down upon him day after day, till 
 the whole of his camp was under water and the valley sur- 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIIIJ'. Ill 
 
 rounding feiin took the appearance of a lake ; a contagious 
 disease broke out amongst the soldiers ; provisions became 
 scanty, the clothing insufficient, and the streams rushing 
 down from the hills washed away the fascines with which he 
 had attempted to raise his encampment above the inundation; 
 but still Gonzalves remained firm. His officers at length 
 came to him in a body, and remonstrated upon his per- 
 severance in staying in a place which had already rendered 
 his camp one general hospital. They reminded him of the 
 mutiny which had taken place before Tarentum, merely 
 from the pay being in arrear ; they showed him that here 
 the same thing was to be expected in a much more tremen- 
 dous form, as not only pay, but provisions, clothing, firing, 
 comfort, and health, were all wanting ; and they proposed, 
 finally, that he should retreat under the walls of Capua, 
 where every necessary might be found in abundance, and 
 the cannon of the city would secure his army from 
 attack. 
 
 Gronzalves listened to them calmly, and replied with 
 mildness, but firmness, that he had taken up that post for 
 the purpose of shutting the entrance of the kingdom 
 against the enemies of Spain ; that he looked upon it as 
 his bounden duty to maintain that post, and that were 
 he, by staying, to die the next day of cold or pestilence, with 
 a thousand other evils to make his death more miserable, he 
 would rather do so than retreat one step, though that 
 step should secure him a hundred years of life, blessed 
 witli all that health and fortune could do to make life 
 happy. 
 
 No man ventured to reply, and such was the indefatiga- 
 ble zeal with which Gronzalves strove to ameliorate the 
 ■condition of his troops — so continually did he labour for 
 their benefit — such efforts did he make to drain the camp, 
 to procure abundant supplies, to cure and solace the sick — 
 so little did he spare himself, and so nobly did he bear 
 every privation as a common man, that not a murmur was 
 heard, though misery, pestilence, and famine were raging 
 in every tent. 
 
 In the meanwhile the Erench general, having left a strong 
 garrison in each of the forts he had established for the 
 defence of the bridge, had retreated to a short distance 
 
112 GONZALTES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 from the river and formed a strong camp for the winter, 
 hoping that the inclemency of the season would oblige 
 Gonzalves to abandon his position, and leave the passage 
 open against the spring. The neglect and villany of the 
 treasurers of the army, however, soon caused greater detri- 
 ment to his army than the weather to that of Gronzalves. 
 Suddenly all supplies of money from France ceased, and the 
 marquis de Saluces found himself without any means of 
 providing for his troops. He instantly dispatched couriers 
 to Louis XII., who as speedily proceeded to remedy the 
 evil, and to punish the defaulters ; but all this required 
 time, and before it was accomplished immense desertions 
 had taken place in the Trench army, and the marquis had 
 been obliged to spread his troops over a large space of 
 ground to obtain provisions for themselves the best way 
 they could. 
 
 He was the less fearful of giving this liberty as the 
 bridge he had formed was still defended, and the news he 
 received from the camp of Gonzalves represented the fate of 
 the Spanish army as still worse than his own. 
 
 Great changes nevertheless at length took place in the 
 camp of Gonzalves of which the marquis did not receive 
 information. Before Christmas three large and unexpected 
 reinforcements had joined the Great Captain, and had 
 increased his army to nearly double the number of that of 
 Erance. The first that arrived came from the Emperor 
 Maximilian, who, hearing of the immense preparations of 
 Louis, and fearful of losing all his influence in Italy if .the 
 French should be successful, had made every effort to raise 
 a strong force to second the efforts of Gonzalves. The 
 second reinforcement arrived from Spain, and ought to have 
 joined the Spanish general long before, but had been 
 delayed by various obstacles. The third was sent him by 
 the noble family of Orsini, and was composed of the Italians 
 who had abandoned the French after the retreat of the 
 marquis of Mantua, joined to a body of veterans who had 
 long served under Caesar Borgia. 
 
 The defensive was no longer the policy of Gonzalves, and 
 he instantly prepared to attack the camp of the French. 
 Calling then his council together, he proposed to begin by 
 storming the forts and forcing the bridge ; and in this 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIN. 113 
 
 every one agreed but Alviado,* the commander of the 
 Orsini troops, who represented to him that such an attack 
 would instantly put the marquis de Saluces upon his guard ; 
 that at present he was unprepared ; and that by passing the 
 river in secret, higher up than the bridge, a certain and an 
 easy victory lay before them. Gronzalves was ever wise 
 enough to yield to reason, and his fame was too high for 
 such concession to be dangerous to his authority. He 
 therefore embraced the opinion of Alviado in opposition to 
 that he had himself held, and merely modified it by leaving 
 part of his forces for the attack of the bridge while he pre- 
 pared to pass the river with the main body. 
 
 The movements of the Spanish army were perceived by the 
 Prench, but Gonzalves took care that these movements 
 should apparently tend towards Capua, so that it was gene- 
 rally supposed in the adverse army that he was in retreat 
 rather than in advance. At night, however, he turned, and 
 surprising one of the enemy's outposts, passed the river and 
 marched upon the head-quarters of the marquis de Saluces. 
 The French general was however warned in time that Gon- 
 zalves was advancing with a far superior force, and in con- 
 sequence he sent orders to break up the bridge, while he 
 himself retreated in good order upon Caietta. The light 
 cavalry of the Spanish army, under Prosper Colonna, hung 
 upon his rear, but with little effect ; while Gronzalves him- 
 self, with the main body, marched as fast as possible to 
 force a battle before the French could reach a defensible 
 position. In the meanwhile the troops left to break up the 
 bridge did so in face of the Spanish rearguard ; but, either 
 from orders to that effect or from haste and confusion, they 
 merely detached the boats without setting fire to them. 
 The rearguard of the Spanish army instantly took advan- 
 tage of this oversight, seized the boats as they were drifting 
 down, reunited them into a bridge, and passing the river 
 formed their junction with the main body. Hitherto the 
 French army had been sheltered by the narrowness of the 
 road, which prevented Colonna from effecting any manoeuvre 
 of consequence ; but before reaching Mola the way opened 
 out into a less dijBBcult country, while the necessity of pass- 
 
 * I find the name of this officer sometimes written Alviano, 
 
 I 
 
114 GOIirZALVES 3)E COEDOBA, 
 
 ing botli the bridge of Mola and a long defile between that 
 place and Caietta, obliged the marquis de Saluces to pause 
 and make a stand against the Spaniards. 
 
 The cavalry, which formed the rear of the French, was 
 instantly attacked by Gonzalves, who had now come up ; 
 but, though the Spaniards charged again and again with 
 unremitting fury, the Trench chivalry sustained its reputa- 
 tion, and repelled every effort made against it. The spirit 
 of Bayard seemed to have communicated itself to all 
 bosoms in the French army, and he himself is said to have 
 defended single-handed the bridge of Mola against the 
 whole efforts of the Spaniards till the French horse rallied 
 to his assistance. A skilful manoeuvre of Gonzalves, how- 
 ever, did more to defeat the enemy than all the impetuous 
 attacks of his soldiery. Between Mola and Caietta, as we 
 have before said, lay a long defile ; and in the very begin- 
 ning of the action, the Spanish general had despatched a 
 sufficient force to take possession of this passage, and cut 
 off the retreat of the French. For some time this move- 
 ment remained concealed ; but at length, just as the French 
 rear were giving way under the attack of the Spaniards, the 
 marquis de Saluces perceived the squadrons which were • 
 advancing towards the defile. AVithout reflecting on the 
 risk of a precipitate movement, and both astonished and 
 confused by the sudden danger that presented itself, he 
 ordered his troops to make all speed towards the defile. 
 The French horse were already broken and driven back by 
 continual attacks, and this command they received as per- 
 mission to fly. In an instant, all was rout and confusion ; 
 all order was gone, and the plain presented nothing but 
 fugitives, who never dreamed of rallying, although many of 
 them gained the defile before the Spaniards, and might have 
 held it as a point of defence, which would have assured the 
 safety of the whole army Gonzalves gave instant orders 
 for pursuit, and an immense number were slain, either 
 by his own light cavalry, or by the peasantry ; who, irri- 
 tated with the rapine and violence which they had suffered 
 from the French troops, showed them no mercy in their 
 fliight. 
 
 Marching on to Caietta, he found the outer works quite 
 without defence j and, sending in to the town a summons to 
 
TlIE GEEAT CAPTAIN. 115 
 
 -surrender immediately, he found that the marquis de Saluces, 
 who had retreated thither with a number of officers and the 
 miserable remains of his army, was quite willing not only 
 to deliver up the city and its fortresses, but to quit the 
 kingdom of J^aples. Gonzalves, with his usual liberality, 
 granted terms much more favourable than might have been 
 expected ; and thus terminated all the efforts of the fine and 
 gallant army which had marched out of Trance not a year 
 before. Its misfortunes, however, had not yet ceased. Those 
 who endeavoured to reach France by land fell man by man 
 by the way side, and those who rather chose to trust to the 
 sea soon became afflicted with a malignant fever, which 
 either destroyed them ere they reached the shore, or left 
 them with diseases which soon after terminated their exist- 
 ence. Pietro de Medici, who had remained in garrison at 
 Garillano, finding himself unable to defend the place, carried 
 off all the heavy artillery, and put to sea ; but scarcely had 
 he quitted the shore, when one of the heavy squalls to which 
 that sea is peculiarly subject took the ship unexpectedly, 
 and, heavily laden as she was with an immense weight of 
 cannon, she sank with every soul on board. Thus Mis- 
 fortune seemed to mark out this unhappy army as her 
 peculiar butt, at which every one of her arrows was dis- 
 charged successively ; and what with war, and famine, and 
 pestilence, and shipwreck, and fatigue, of thirty-five thou- 
 sand men who quitted France, not five thousand ever 
 reached their native soil again. 
 
 In the meanwhile Gonzalves returned to Naples ; and 
 though for some time he had to struggle both with sickness 
 and a new mutiny amongst his troops on the subject of their 
 arrears, he soon contrived to free the kingdom of all the 
 French who remained. Shortly after this he received press- 
 ing letters from the infamous Caesar Borgia, offering to put 
 in his hands the greater part of Eomagna and Tuscany, 
 upon condition that he would free him from the hands of 
 the newly-elected Pope, who kept him a prisoner in the 
 Vatican. Csesar Eorgia, the son of Alexander VI., had 
 inherited all his father's vices, and superadded a ferocity 
 peculiarly his own. His debaucheries formed the fairest 
 point of his conduct, though they surpassed that of almost 
 any other being then living ; but in point of treachery he 
 
 I 2 
 
116 GONZALYES DE COHDOBA, 
 
 might have failed to find a rival, either in ancient or in 
 modern times ; and in cruelty his only fit companion would 
 have been Nero. Yet for his crimes it was not that 
 Julius II. kept the sod of his predecessor in bondage, but 
 simply because the ambitious prelate sought to force from 
 him those domains which by so many fearful acts he had 
 acquired. It was under these circumstances that the pri~ 
 soner wrote to Gronzalves ; but at that moment the mutiny 
 of his troops, and the impossibility of paying them, as well 
 as the fear of involving his sovereign in an unjustifiable war, 
 bound the hands of the Spanish general, and he refused the 
 ofier. 
 
 Caesar Borgia, disappointed in his hopes, yielded to the 
 will of the Pope, only stipulating for his liberty. After long 
 negotiations, in which wile was employed against wile, and 
 cunning contended with cunning, E/Omagna was given up, 
 and Caesar Borgia enlarged, his enemy, however, purposing 
 to arrest him again immediately. Borgia's spirit, however, 
 was from its own nature prophetic of all treachery ; and the 
 moment he was free he made his escape to JN'aples, where he 
 threw himself upon the protection of Gonzalves. The Spanish 
 general received him with distinction ; and well aware that 
 the confusion and turbulence of the rest of Italy greatly 
 assisted in establishing his sovereign's power in Naples, even 
 if it did not open the way to new acquisitions, he aided 
 Borgia with whatever money he could spare, and permitted 
 him to levy troops for the conquest of various places on the 
 confines of Tuscany. Csesar Borgia hastened all his pre- 
 parations, feeling that nothing could give him security but 
 the command of an army, and being desirous of quitting 
 Naples as soon as possible. Silently, however, the court of 
 Kome had worked his destruction with Ferdinand of Spain ;. 
 a full detail of all his crimes had been laid before that king, 
 accompanied by an earnest prayer from the sovereign pontiff 
 that he might be instantly arrested. Nearly fifty murders, 
 besides a fratricide, were laid to his charge, with a thousand 
 other crimes of minor degrees ; so that Ferdinand and Isa- 
 bella found themselves fully justified in securing the friend- 
 ship of the Pope by punishing one of the most monstrous 
 criminals the world had ever produced. A swift sailing 
 galley was therefore instantly sent to Naples to command 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAIN. 117 
 
 his arrest, and entered the port on the very day of Borgia's 
 last audience of Gonzalves. The Spanish general, notwith- 
 standing the knowledge of his commission, received the 
 Italian with courtesy and distinction. Borgia, the deceiver, 
 was himself deceived, and retired from the presence of 
 Oonzalves elated with the hopes of sailing that very day 
 upon his expedition ; but in the antechamber of the palace 
 he was arrested in the name of Ferdinand, placed on board 
 a galley, and carried into the ports of Spain. There 
 he remained a close prisoner for some years, but having at 
 length made his escape, he joined John of Albret, king of 
 JSTavarre, and was soon after killed in a night encounter 
 with the troops of Louis de Beaumont, constable of 
 Castile. 
 
 Similar reproaches were thrown upon Gonzalves in this 
 affair to those which had been called forth by his detention 
 of the young duke of Calabria — but with far less justice. 
 In the present instance he violated no vow, he violated no 
 duty. It was not under his individual protection that 
 CsBsar Borgia had placed himself, but under that of the 
 crown of Spain. If any blame could be attached to this 
 affair, it belonged to Ferdinand and not to his general ; and 
 he fully justified himself by pleading the commands of his 
 sovereign for the act he had committed. It would have 
 •been more dignified, perhaps, and certainly more candid, 
 had Gonzalves caused the infamous Italian to be arrested 
 the instant he had received the order, without descending 
 ^ven to momentary deceit. At all events, as far as the act 
 of arresting him — an act certainly unjustifiable, inasmuch 
 as Borgia was in no degree subject to the jurisdiction 
 of Spain — the blame thereof must rest with Ferdinand, 
 who commanded it; not with Gronzalves, who was but 
 "the instrument. 
 
 Several minor negotiations with the petty states of Italy 
 succeeded the arrest of Borgia, but Gonzalves was suc- 
 -cessful in keeping himself at peace, and employed all 
 the energies of his mind to wipe away the traces of conquest 
 from the kingdom of Naples, and to attach the population 
 4:0 the crown of Spain, not by the frail ties of victor and 
 vanquished, but by the more durable bonds of friendly 
 ieeling and common interests. Eeverses, however, were 
 
118 GOIS'ZALYES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 in store for Gonzalves, whicli made the close of his exist- 
 ence of a far different complexion from its course, as 
 we often see the sun which has gone on shining in bright- 
 ness through a long summer's day, sink down amidst clouds 
 and tempests towards night. 
 
 The first shadow which came over his prospects was the 
 death of Isabella of Castile, who had been to him at once a 
 sovereign, a friend, and a protector. "While she had lived, 
 the envy which his successes and his merits had aroused, 
 crept about in silence, and dared not raise its voice above a 
 whisper: but now it spoke aloud, and the jealous ears 
 of Ferdinand were greeted at all hours with rumours of his 
 general's designs. Some sought to ruin him with poisonous 
 praise, representing to the king his greatness as a warrior, 
 his skill as a politician, his virtues as a man, insinuating 
 how deeply he had touched the hearts of the Neapolitans, 
 how they adored the very ground he trod, and obeyed his 
 lightest word as if it were a law. Others, again, more 
 boldly accused him of peculation in the finances of the 
 kingdom of ISTaples, and malversation of the soldiers' pay. 
 And others, still, represented the magnificence with which 
 he lived, the benefits that he conferred upon his friends, 
 the estates he granted to the Neapolitans of the Spanish 
 party; and asked, what could be his design if it were 
 not personally to seize the kingdom he had conquered for 
 his master, and appropriate the sovereignty to himself? 
 Ferdinand, himself the most subtle of men, possessed 
 a heart which was the natural home of suspicion ; and it is 
 not wonderful that his jealousy of Gonzalves was easily 
 awakened. 
 
 He wrote, therefore, commanding his return, upon pre- 
 tence that he required his aid and counsel, but there were 
 many motives which induced the great captain to evade the 
 order. Ferdinand had reigned in Castile solely in right of 
 Isabella. Now that Isabella was dead, her daughter suc- 
 ceeded to the crown of Castile; and the archduke of 
 Austria, her daughter's husband, claimed the government 
 of that kingdom with as full a right as that by whicli 
 Ferdinand had held it previously. The kingdom of Naples 
 had been conquered by Castilian troops and with Castilian 
 gold, and it seemed natural that it should rather belong to 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIN. 119 
 
 Castile than to Arragon. Gronzalves, therefore, paused till 
 the claims of Eerdinand and the archduke were finally 
 settled, before he delivered up jN'aples to either. Whether 
 he was ever tempted to seize upon that kingdom himself, 
 and while others were disputing for their rights, to urge 
 the strong claim of the sword, can now hardly be told. At 
 all events, he did not yield to the temptation ; and though 
 even the promise which Ferdinand made him of the rank of 
 grand master of the order of St. James, the highest dis- 
 tinction in Spain below the crown, did not induce him 
 to quit Naples till the question of its possession was 
 determined, the moment the treaty was concluded between 
 the king and the archduke, yielding all the Italian 
 dominions of Spain to the former, Gonzalves instantly took 
 ship to obey the often repeated commands of Ferdinand. 
 His long delay, however, had awakened the suspicions 
 of the kmg to the utmost, and at the same time that Gon- 
 zalves was setting out for Spain, he was embarking for 
 Naples to cut short the treasonable efforts -he doubted not 
 to find in progress. At Genoa, however, he found Gon- 
 zalves on his way to Spain, and so astonished was Ferdinand 
 to see him there, that he remained silent for many minutes, 
 overpowered by the sudden dispersion of all his jealousies 
 and fears. When he did speak, however, it was to load 
 Gonzalves with thanks and honours, and re-embarking they 
 proceeded to Naples together. Here, though the conduct 
 of the great captain himself removed all doubts of his 
 . integrity from the bosom of the king, the attachment which 
 the Neapolitan people displayed towards him gave but 
 little pleasure to the jealous monarch, and injured Gon- 
 zalves more than even the suspicions he had before enter- 
 tained. Nor was the conduct of Ferdinand himself calcu- 
 lated at all to attach the Italians. He was mean, avaricious, 
 exacting, and reserved; and after having chilled and dis- 
 gusted the people that Gonzalves had not only conquered 
 but won, he departed again for Spain, leaving strict orders 
 for his general to follow him immediately. 
 
 Ey this time the archduke was dead, and the whole 
 government of Spain had fallen back into Ferdinand's hands, 
 in consequence of the imbecility of the archduchess. He 
 had also endeavoured to unite the interests of Spain and 
 
120 GOIfZALYES DE CORDOBA, 
 
 Erance by marrying Germaine de Toix, the niece of 
 Louis XII., and on his return from Naples he had a 
 personal interview with the French monarch at Grenoa. 
 Thither Gonzalves followed him, and the distinction with 
 which he was treated by Louis, like the affection of the 
 IN'eapolitans, did not tend to increase the love of Ferdinand 
 towards him. After arriving in Spain, Gonzalves, who 
 under the orders of Ferdinand had refused the command 
 both of the papal and Venetian forces, now urged the 
 monarch to fulfil the promise he had made of creating him 
 grand master of the order of St. James. Ferdinand, how- 
 ever, now repented of his promise, and delayed its fulfil- 
 ment under a thousand' pretences. Gonzalves pressed 
 for its accomplishment ; and thus the successful general 
 became odious in the eyes of him for whom he had won a 
 kingdom. These things went on, and a thousand petty 
 causes of irritation were added to the disgust subsisting 
 between the king and Gonzalves. 
 
 The town and lordship of Loxa had, some time previous, 
 been given to the great captain for his life ; and thither he 
 retired to pass his days in quiet, far from the intrigues and 
 troubles of the court, till such time as fortune, by rendering 
 his services necessary, should insure more attention to his 
 claims. That time did not fail to come ; and Ferdinand, 
 after seeing his forces, as well as those of the pope and the 
 Venetians, completely defeated by the French at the battle 
 of Bavenna, was fain once more to call Gonzalves into 
 action, and to give him the command of a great armament, 
 with which he proposed to turn the tide of fortune in 
 favour of Spain. But Gonzalves was never more destined 
 to fight or to triumph. The army was already embarked, 
 the wind had become favourable, and Gonzalves was about 
 once more to set sail for Italy, when a messenger arrived 
 from Ferdinand countermanding the departure of the fleet. 
 News, it appeared, had reached him, which calmed his mind 
 with respect to the fate of Naples. Other enemies had 
 started up around Louis XII. and operated a complete 
 diversion in favour of Ferdinand ; and that crafty monarch, 
 instead of employing his forces in the defence of places no 
 longer menaced by an enemy, resolved to turn their efforts 
 against Navarre, and to plunder another monarch of his 
 
THE GREAT CAPTAllS^. 121 
 
 right, as lie had already robbed the kings of ISTaples. This 
 expedition, and its change of destination, raised the hopes 
 of Gronzalves, and then disappointed his expectations more 
 than any other event of his life. However, though he lost, 
 by the alteration of Ferdinand's schemes, the opportunity 
 of winning new glory, the very appointment to command so 
 large a force in Italy, gave the lie to all the accusations and 
 surmises which had been founded on his recall from that 
 country, and Lis subsequent disgrace at court. G-onzalves 
 strove hard to conceal his disappointment ; and, in order to 
 assuage that of the soldiers who were to have served under 
 him, and who, like himself, suddenly found their expecta- 
 tions frustrated, he distributed amongst them presents 
 to the amount of one hundred thousand crowns of gold. 
 He then retired once more to Loxa, where he remained 
 surrounded by many of the most noble and influential men 
 in Spain. 
 
 Many rumours were, of course, spread of plots and schemes 
 nourished by the disappointed general, in his retirement 
 from the court, and historians have even transcribed such 
 rumours to their pages, without investigating the sources 
 from whence they were derived. The strongest proof that 
 Gonzalves did not plot is that Ferdinand did not suspect him ; 
 for that jealous monarch was always far more ready to doubt 
 where there was no cause, than to trust where there w^as a 
 shade of doubt. Marian, indeed, states that Gonzalves enter- 
 tained a wish to join the Archduke Charles in the Nether- 
 lands, and Ferdinand forbade him, under his high displeasure, 
 to follow up this intention. This may possibly have been 
 true ; and it is possible, also, that Gonzalves may have con- 
 tributed to thwart several oi his ungrateful sovereign's pro- 
 jects. We know that he upheld Ximenes in his refusal to 
 resign the archbishopric of Toledo, which Ferdinand sought 
 to bestow elsewhere ; and we also know, that he married 
 his daughter Elvira, to the constable of Castile, without 
 obtaining, or even asking, the king's consent ; but almost 
 all the rest that has been advanced respecting his schemes 
 of rebellion, is merely hypothetical. One of the deepest 
 prejudices of Gonzalves' mind was the duty of implicit 
 obedience to the will of his sovereign. In compliance 
 therewith, he had risked even that fame which he sought 
 
122 GO^^ZALTES DE COEDOBA, 
 
 SO eagerly. Men may conquer their feelings or violate their 
 principles ; but they seldom — very seldom — overcome their 
 prejudices to any great extent. 
 
 If, therefore, we suppose that self-interest and disap- 
 pointment so far wrought upon Gronzalves, as to induce him. 
 to remonstrate, and even to upbraid his sovereign, in his own 
 affairs ; and to oppose his wishes, by argument and expos- 
 tulation with others, we go as far as any tangible evidence, 
 or even a knowledge of human nature in the want of such, 
 will permit. But to believe in rumours unsupported, or to 
 give the authority of repetition to malice buried under the 
 weight of ages, by raising up the mouldy scandals of the 
 fifteenth century, is neither doing service to the living nor 
 justice to the dead. 
 
 Deeply wounded, though concealing his wound, Gronzalves 
 retired to Loxa, where, in the rust of idleness, the sword 
 wore the scabbard more than in the days of its most active 
 employment — I m.ean, that his spirit, in its want of other 
 occupation, preyed upon his body. Not long after he wa& 
 attacked by a quartan fever, which at first seemed mild 
 in its character ; and he removed to Granada for change 
 of air. 
 
 In that city, however, the disease took a more seriou& 
 form ; and, on the 2nd of December, 1515, he died in the 
 arms of his wife and his only child. 
 
 A hundred standards, taken from the enemy, preceded 
 his coffin to the tomb, and all the chivalry of Spain that 
 could reach the spot, followed the Great Captain to his 
 place of long repose. The enmity even of a king ended 
 when death made gratitude cheap, and Ferdinand ordered a 
 solemn service to be said for the dead warrior in all the 
 churches of Spain — an honour only till that time conferred 
 upon the royal race. 
 
 It seemed, indeed, that this was that monarch's favourite 
 mode of recompensing inestimable services. He gave 
 Gonzalves a solemn mass, and Columbus a splendid tomb ^ 
 after the one had given him a new kingdom, and the other 
 a new world. 
 
 Gonzalves de Cordoba was tall, powerful, graceful in- 
 form, and handsome in feature. He was of a robust and 
 healthy temperament, and of moderate, though not abste* 
 
THE GEEAT CAPTAIN. 123' 
 
 mious habits. He was skilled in almost all exercises, and 
 as capable of performing the part of a soldier as that of a 
 general. In society he was easy and witty, yet grave and 
 composed; while as a politician he was keen and pene- 
 trating ; and as an orator, bold, powerful, and persuasive. 
 In his military career, he showed consummate skill in his 
 manoeuvres, as well as prudence and firmness in his resolu- 
 tions, tempered by deference to the opinion of others and 
 frankness in yielding to reason and conviction. He was 
 vigilant, active, and daring ; but, at the same time, cool, 
 sagacious, and calculating. By the one he overthrew his 
 enemies, and by the other he preserved himself. His per- 
 sonal courage was great, and perhaps he exposed himself, 
 even in his latter years, more than was absolutely neces- 
 sary; but he won the love and the confidence of his- 
 soldiers, by showing them that, on all occasions, he shared 
 the same dangers and the same privations with themselves. 
 He was always courteous, and would have deserved to be 
 called liberal, had he not been both profuse and osten- 
 tatious. This was the only weakness which we find re- 
 corded of him, and his only crime was committed in the 
 service of one who, of course, was ungrateful. As a warrior, 
 none perhaps, under such unfavourable circumstances, had 
 so few reverses ; and, as a man, there are not many who 
 have had fewer faults. 
 
124 
 
 THE DUKE OF ALVA. 
 
 Born in Spain, 1508 — Celebrated for his courage and firmness in early 
 youth — Served under Charles V. — President of the infamous council 
 who tried and condemned the duke of Saxony — Gains military expe- 
 rience against the French — The death of Charles V. brings the two 
 congenial spirits of Philip II. and Alva into conjunction — Cold- 
 blooded massacre of the prisoners and citizens at Haerlem— He has 
 left the character of a great general, but a cruel bigoted man. 
 
 Feedinand Alyaeez de Toledo, duke of Alva, sprung 
 from one of the noblest families in Spain, was born in 1508, 
 and served from his childhood under his celebrated relation 
 [Frederic of Toledo. From him he learned the art of war ; 
 and from him also, it is possible, he acquired in some degree 
 that stern and cruel firmness which characterized his after- 
 life, and those deep-rooted prejudices in favour of arbitrary 
 power, which he himself believed to be virtues, though they 
 |)rompted him to the perpetration of many crimes. 
 
 In his early career he became so marked for his cou- 
 rage and coolness in the field of battle, that ere he had 
 reached the age of thirty he was raised to the rank of 
 general by the Emperor Charles V. The famous truce of 
 Nice, however, having put a stop to the war between France 
 and Austria, immediately after he had been elevated to a 
 station which entitled him to separate command, no very 
 brilliant event distinguished the life of Alva for nearly five 
 years. At length the murder of the French and Venetian 
 ambassadors by the marquis del Gruasto afforded a good 
 pretence to Francis I. for breaking a disadvantageous truce, 
 and all Europe was once more involved in war. 
 
 Of the five splendid armies which the immense exertions 
 of the French monarch brought into the field, one of the 
 strongest and best equipped, consisting of forty thousand 
 men, led by the Dauphin in person, was directed against 
 the Spanish dominions of the emperor. 
 
THE DUKE OF ALYA. 125' 
 
 The fine country of Eoussillon, forming naturally a part 
 of the Prench kingdom, had been but lately annexed to the 
 crown of Spain, and Francis's first and greatest efforts were- 
 employed to recover a tract which it was dangerous to the 
 peace of his dominions, and degrading to the honour of 
 his throne, to leave in the hands of a rival and inimical 
 power. 
 
 The army of the Dauphin therefore, while the duke of 
 Orleans ravaged the territories of Luxembourg, and fixed 
 the attention of Austria upon that province, marched at 
 once into Eoussillon, and advanced with scarcely any oppo- 
 sition upon Perpignan. That city, though of immense 
 importance, was then weakly fortified, but the famous 
 Andrew Doria, on the first news of its danger, had thrown 
 into it immense supplies from Italy, and Alva had been 
 appointed to hold it out as long as possible. 
 
 No one could have been better calculated to fulfil the 
 duties of such a station than the young Toledo. Erave and 
 hardy as a soldier, he was cool and skilful as a commander^ 
 and resolute, determined, unchangeable as a man. The 
 attack on the part of the Dauphin was vigorous and perse- 
 vering, and three months were spent in active but unsuc- 
 cessful efforts to capture the city. The French with their 
 accustomed courage marched up continually to the assault 
 of weak and insufficient fortifications, but the cool steady 
 resistance of the Spaniards, and the obstinate valour of their 
 commander, uniformly presented insurmountable obstacles ; 
 every attempt to storm was repelled with loss ; and after 
 seeing a great part of his troops perish by disease, or fall in 
 fruitless engagements, the Dauphin was obliged to raise 
 the siege, and abandon the country he had been sent ta 
 conquer. 
 
 The skill and determination which Alva had displayed in 
 the defence of Perpignan, showed him well fitted for the 
 service of a cold and calculating master, and together with 
 Lis success, raised him high in the favour of Charles, 
 whose friendship always hung upon his interests, and 
 whose afifections extended not beyond the consideration of 
 himself. It was not long before a man of Alva's relentless- 
 nature and despotic prejudices was required to serve the 
 mingled purposes of policy and revenge of which his impe- 
 
126 THE DUKE OP ALYA. 
 
 rial master was sometimes capable. The elector of Saxony 
 had done more than enough to render himself hateful in 
 the eyes of Charles V. The head of the league of Smal- 
 kalde, the leader of the Protestant forces, the rival of 
 Oharles in power, and the barrier against his exactions ; by 
 his influence if not by his skill, by his courage if not by his 
 xictivity, he had for long supported the reformed religion, 
 and preserved the liberties of Germany. 
 
 In return, Charles had boldly placed him under the ban 
 of the empire without the authority of a diet, which, accord- 
 ing to every principle of German jurisprudence, was neces- 
 sary to give force to this sort of legal anathema. Maurice 
 of Saxony, the kinsman of the elector, had treacherously 
 leagued with the emperor, and only authorized by the 
 illegal ban which Charles had issued against his cousin, had 
 taken possession of his hereditary dominions. The elector 
 then, with the Protestant army opposed to the imperial 
 forces, was compelled by the prayers of his people to return 
 and defend his territories from the oppression of his base 
 relation ; and the league of Smalkalde, thus shaken by a 
 separation of its troops, was almost immediately dispersed. 
 The various princes of which it had been composed, in 
 general, submitted to the emperor, and Charles, freed from 
 his greatest apprehensions, prepared to follow the elector of 
 Saxony, and support his ally Maurice in possession of his 
 usurped power. 
 
 Various causes, however, occasioned a delay in his move- 
 ments. The papal troops, which had hitherto swelled his 
 armies against the Protestants, were now suddenly recalled ; 
 a conspiracy had broken out in Genoa, which he could hardly 
 persuade himself was unsupported by some great foreign 
 power, and it became evidently the intention of the king of 
 France once more to oppose the increasing influence of 
 the house of Austria by a renewal of war. Under such 
 circumstances Charles hesitated to involve himself in new 
 eflbrts against the elector, and that prince had time to expel 
 his treacherous kinsman from the places he had taken, and 
 to repossess himself of his rightful dominions. At length, 
 the death of the king of Prance and the fruitless unravelling 
 of the Genoese conspiracy, freed Charles from all foreign 
 apprehensions, and he at once began his march against the 
 
THE DUKK OF ALYA. 127 
 
 elector. His army, though not consisting of more than six- 
 'teen thousand men, was formed of veteran troops and expe- 
 frienced officers ; and though the forces of the elector were 
 numerically superior in an immense proportion, his officers 
 had but little of the skill, and his men little of the habit of 
 war. He himself also, though possessed of chivalrous per- 
 sonal bravery, was slow and diffident in counsel, and unskil- 
 ful and dilatory in the field. With strange and unaccount- 
 able imprudence, he separated, instead of concentrating hi? 
 forces, and neither pursued a bold plan of action, which 
 might have given victory to his inexperienced troops by 
 impetus, nor followed the more cautious policy of protract- 
 ing the war, which would have insured the enemy's defeat 
 by the difficulties of the country and the want of resources. 
 Charles advanced with more boldness than usual, eager to 
 take advantage of his opponent's faults and irresolution. 
 The indefensible towns in which the elector had scattered 
 his troops, were taken one by one ; and with hardly any 
 opposition Charles arrived on the banks of the Elbe, nearly 
 opposite to Mulberg, where the rearguard of the elector 
 was stationed. The banks were high, the river broad and 
 rapid, the passage difficult, and the adverse force strong ; 
 but Charles with a daring impetuosity he rarely evinced, 
 determined immediately on attempting to cross and attack 
 the enemy. All his officers combated this resolution, and 
 none more than Alva, who, though as daring as youth, 
 when the palm of success was evidently held out to bold- 
 ness, followed a more cautious line of conduct where 
 any doubt obscured the way. The emperor, however, was 
 decided, the river was passed in the face of the detachment 
 left to guard against such an event, and Charles hastened 
 forward to attack the main body of the Saxon forces, which 
 were only a few miles distant. 
 
 Either treachery or want of precaution had left the 
 elector in ignorance of the movements of his enemy, and 
 ♦Charles had passed the river before his opponent was aware 
 of the attempt. When the matter was beyond doubt, , 
 however, an order was given to the Saxon army to retreat ; 
 but before the execution of this command was practicable, 
 the imperial forces were in sight, and retreat was no longer 
 possible. Compelled to action, the elector now displayed 
 
128 THE DUKE OF ALVA. 
 
 that spirit and energy whicb, had it been previously exerted^ 
 would have saved his dominions and himself. His troops, 
 hov^ever, were disheartened by an intercepted flight, and his 
 enemies were inspired by a fresh success. Thus, notwith- 
 standing skilful arrangements and desperate courage on his 
 own part, his army was completely routed, and he himself 
 made prisoner. In the exultation of victory, Charles 
 received him with undignified and ungenerous rudeness • 
 but a deeper and more disgraceful scene was about to be 
 acted between the insolent conqueror and his noble 
 prisoner. 
 
 The unhappy elector was carried in triumph through his 
 own dominions to the gates of his capital city of Wittem- 
 berg, which, strong by nature and by art, promised to set 
 Charles's scanty army at defiance, unless some other means 
 were employed than the ordinary efforts of siege. 
 
 The electress, with a considerable body of troops, and the 
 electoral prince, who had escaped, though wounded, from the 
 field of Mulhausen, held out the town, and to the emperor's 
 summons to surrender, and threats in case of refusal, replied 
 by informing him that whatever he inflicted upon the Saxon 
 prince should be visited upon the head of his creature, Albert 
 of Brandenburg, who was a prisoner in their hands. To retire 
 unsuccessful from the walls of Wittemberg would have 
 been a disgrace to the arms of the emperor for ever, and an 
 attempt to convey to the spot the means for carrying on a 
 regular siege having failed, Charles had recourse to an 
 expedient which has only been used by tyrants and bar- 
 barians. He threatened to take the life of the elector 
 if his capital was not immediately surrendered; and to 
 convince his beleaguered family of his firm determination, a 
 court-martial was immediately called to sentence a sovereign 
 prince, whose legal judges could only be found in a diet 
 of the empire. JSTo one could be better fitted than 
 the duke of Alva to preside over a tribunal, authorized by 
 power alone, and to pass the doom of death upon a fellow- 
 creature whom he had no title to try. Charles appre- 
 ciated his general justly, and named him president of the 
 court-martial on the unfortunate elector of Saxony. 
 
 Doubtless the others whom he called to share in the 
 judgment-seat were equally well selected. As the court 
 
THE DUKE OF ALVA. 129 
 
 was a mockery, so was the trial. The whole proceedings 
 were based upon the ban of the empire, into the legality or 
 illegality of which the judges of the elector did not think fit 
 to inquire, and a band of Spanish and Italian officers, under 
 the direction of the emperor, passed sentence of death upon 
 the greatest of the German princes. The elector was engaged 
 in playing at chess when his doom was announced to him — 
 a doom which reflected equal disgrace on the men by 
 whom it was decreed and the monarch by whom it was 
 instigated. 
 
 The victim, however, received it without a change of 
 •countenance, and paused in his game only to point out the 
 illegality of the proceedings under which he was con- 
 demned, to protest against the tribunal, and to express 
 a hope that his family would not suffer his fate to make 
 them less bold in the defence of their rights. He then 
 resumed his occupation, and played on with as much skill 
 and coolness as before. 
 
 The danger, however, which could not shake the firmness 
 of the elector, overwhelmed the resolution of his wife, and 
 her tears and persuasions produced that which the threats 
 of his great enemy had not been able to effect. The elector 
 yielded ; and for the sake of those he loved, agreed to save 
 a life that he little valued, at the expense of power, dignity, 
 and liberty. The treacherous Prince Maurice was installed in 
 the halls of his injured kinsman, and the elector remained a 
 prisoner : but circumstances afterwards changed, and in the 
 evening of his days he was released, to display in a humbler 
 station, and more peaceful times, the virtues which 
 he had evinced as a sovereign in periods of difficulty and 
 danger. 
 
 The next act of arbitrary power, in the execution of 
 which Alva was engaged, was the unjust and treacherous 
 detention of the landgrave ; but on this occasion he acted 
 merely in obedience to the orders he received, without 
 assuming the character of a judge or prostituting the name 
 of justice. 
 
 Charles Y. had now apparently triumphed over all the 
 internal opposition which had so long clogged his active 
 ambition, and he seemed free to pursue those great schemes 
 of external policy which he had long formed, for the 
 
130 THE DTJKE OP ALTA. 
 
 aggrandizement of his own power and the depression of the* 
 neighbouring monarchs. Eut the eyes of the world had 
 not been shut, and the great preponderance which he had 
 already obtained had awakened the jealousy of other Euro- 
 pean kings. At the same time, Maurice of Saxony repaid 
 the benefits he had received as such benefits deserved ; he 
 put himself at the head of the Protestant party, leagued 
 with Henry II. of Erance ; and after deceiving the emperor 
 by a long course of unparalleled subtlety, raised the standard 
 of revolt in the heart of Grermany. His ally Henry II. 
 without delay marched into Loraine, took possession of 
 Verdun, Toul, and Metz, and threatening the frontier 
 of the empire, brought about an effectual diversion in 
 favour of the Protestants. Maurice pursued his scheme 
 with vigour; and taking the emperor by surprise, forced 
 him into a treaty of peace, in which the interests of France 
 were very little considered. Treacherous alike to all, Maurice 
 cared little about his ally the king of Prance, when once 
 the object for which he had contracted that alliance wa& 
 obtained. 
 
 "While the treaty was in progress the emperor, in hope& 
 of being able to delay it till he had collected a sufficient 
 force to oppose Maurice by arms, had been busily engaged 
 in making fresh levies through all his dominions ; and when 
 the skill, activity, and clear-sightedness of his adversary had 
 baffled all his arts and forced him to ratify the peace, these 
 troops still remained prepared to carry on the war against 
 Prance. 
 
 Eager to avenge the insult which had been ofifered to hi& 
 frontier, and to recover those important towns which had 
 proved in many instances not only the bulwark of Germany 
 in the north, but an inlet into the most valuable provinces of 
 Prance, Charles spared no pains and no expense to complete 
 his army, and to bring it into the field as rapidly as possible. 
 JN'early a hundred thousand men were thus collected ; and 
 to conceal the true object of his preparation, he spread 
 various reports concerning the destination of his army, 
 till the direction of its march left no longer any doubt of 
 his real intentions. 
 
 The king of Prance immediately made every exertion 
 to secure the territory he had acquired ; and Charles, as 
 
THE DTTKE OF ALTA. 131 
 
 soon as he found that his designs were discovered, hurried 
 forward as fast as possible towards Champagne, giving the 
 chief command of his forces, under himself, to the duke 
 of Alva. Metz, of course, as the strongest and most 
 important city on that line of frontier, was the first destined 
 to attack ; and towards the end of October, a.d. 1552, 
 the whole forces of the empire sat down before it, and 
 invested it in form. The gallant duke of Gruise, however, 
 had been charged with its defence by Henry II., and had 
 previously employed every means to render its natural 
 Btrength still more formidable. He destroyed the immense 
 and untenable suburbs, he enlarged the narrow fosse, 
 he repaired all the old and long-neglected fortifications, and 
 erected new ones of greater extent and more scientific con- 
 struction. The soldiers and workmen he encouraged to 
 almost superhuman efforts, by labouring with his own 
 hands at the most difficult and the most inferior works, and 
 the people he reconciled to the destruction of their property, 
 at once by his popular and fascinating manners, and by 
 his chivalrous abandonment of all personal comfort and 
 individual consideration. Such were his preparations for 
 resistance, and on the arrival of the imperial army, the 
 same vigour characterized his movements. Sally after sally 
 interrupted the progress of the besiegers, and every breacfi 
 which the G-erman artillery effected in the walls was 
 instantly repaired, or rendered impracticable by new fortifi- 
 cations. The Emperor Charles himself, attacked by a 
 violent fit of the gout, lay ill at Thionville; but Alva, 
 although he had strongly remonstrated against undertaking 
 so difficult an enterprise at so late a period of the year, did 
 everything that a soldier and a general could do to make 
 that enterprise successful. But the courage of the garrison, 
 the active energy of the duke of Gruise, the inclemency of 
 the season, and the sickness of his troops, rendered all the 
 measures of Alva fruitless; though those measures are 
 allowed to have been conceived with no small military skill. 
 After a siege of two months, the emperor was obliged 
 to break up his camp and retreat, while Guise marched 
 along the frontier, and prevented the imperial army from 
 striking one blow of any importance, notwithstanding all 
 the great preparations which had preceded the expedition. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 THE rrKE or alva. 
 
 The arms of Prance were not less fortunate in the south 
 than they had been in the east ; and the whole of the 
 Austrian territory in Italy seemed likely to fall under the 
 dominion of Henry II. To counteract the Trench efforts 
 in Piedmont, a general of acknowledged abilities was re- 
 quired ; and the choice of the emperor again fell upon the 
 duke of Alva. This choice, it is said, was as much in- 
 fluenced by the jealousy of a rival, who wished to remove 
 Alva from the court, as by his general reputation. Of this 
 fact the duke was well aware, and was no less conscious of 
 the great disadvantages which might arise to himself from 
 a long absence. But the expedition was one of difficulty 
 and danger, and Alva's sense of military honour was too 
 high to permit of his declining a perilous enterprise on any 
 consideration. He nevertheless made high demands in 
 regard to the power with which he was to be invested. 
 These were all granted, and he was consequently despatched 
 to Italy armed with unlimited authority. 
 
 His first operations, however, were less successful than 
 his former conduct had led his sovereign to expect. Marechal 
 Brissac, to whom he was opposed, still continued to obtain 
 considerable advantages ; and the first campaign closed 
 without any improvement of the Austrian prospects in 
 Italy. 
 
 A truce, however, having been concluded between the 
 king of Prance and Philip the Second, — who having now 
 succeeded to the throne of Spain, had become Alva's sove- 
 reign — the war in Italy for a short time seemed con- 
 cluded ; but the ambition and arrogance of the Pope Paul lY. 
 soon dispelled such hopes, and by leaguing with the Prench 
 king to deprive Philip of the territory of Naples, he com- 
 pelled the Spanish monarch unwillingly to draw the sword 
 against the head of the Boman church. Alva, who was as 
 superstitiously scrupulous in his reverence for the see of 
 Pome as Philip himself, willingly temporized and nego- 
 tiated till he received his sovereign's commands to march 
 into the ecclesiastical states. Then, however, he showed 
 that the moderation of his master and himself had pro- 
 ceeded from no want of power to defend or chastise. At 
 the head of a small party of chosen troops, he entered the 
 territory of the church, and made himself master of the 
 
THE DUKE OF ALYA. 133 
 
 Campagna, taking city after city by tbe way. The pope, 
 though furious with his reverses, was now compelled to 
 temporize, and by taking advantage of Alva's bigotry, con- 
 trived to obtain a truce, during which he pressed his ally, 
 the king of France, to hurry the march of the auxiliaries he 
 had promised. 
 
 Reinforcements indeed, soon reached Italy, commanded 
 by the great and noble duke of Gruise, who was received at 
 Eome in triumph, and instantly prepared to renew the war. 
 But that commander, on examining the preparations made 
 by the pope, found they were far inferior to what he had 
 been led to expect, and that the representations which had 
 brought him into Italy, were in every respect fallacious. 
 Nevertheless, urged by the eager animosity of the pontiff, 
 he marched towards Naples and laid siege to a small 
 frontier town, but without success. The Spanish com- 
 mandant of Civitella displayed the same bold and active 
 spirit of resistance which Guise had himself exhibited at 
 Metz ; and the French general was obliged to retire and 
 endeavour to retrieve the disgrace of failure by striving for 
 success elsewhere. "With this view he turned towards the 
 Spanish commander-in-chief, who by this time had renewed 
 his warlike operations against the pope ; and by a rapid 
 march compelled Alva to resume the defensive. He did so, 
 however, with so much success, that, though the duke of 
 G-uise with far superior forces advanced towards his camp, 
 and strove to force him to a battle, yet the Spanish com- 
 mander maintained his position, frustrated all the move- 
 ments of the enemy, and secured the territories of Spain 
 from all farther aggression. In the mean while, Philip in 
 person had won the famous battle cf St. Quintin ; the duke 
 of Guise was recalled suddenly from Italy, and the pope, 
 left without support, was fain, notwithstanding all his arro- 
 gance, to treat with the monarch he had offended. Philip, 
 whose superstitious veneration for the head of the church 
 was more real than that of most monarchs of his day, gladly 
 acceded to all the terms of the pontiff, even to humiliation 
 and apology ; and Alva as a suppliant repaired to Kome, and 
 implored the forgiveness of him whom he had conquered. 
 
 On the day that Alva entered the city the duke of Guise 
 quitted it, and it was strange to see the victor acting as the 
 
134 THE DTJKE OP ALVA. 
 
 vanquished ; and the defeated general, returning to his 
 native land, to be received with all the honour and joy of a 
 triumph. JSTor is it a less singular fact in regard to Alva, 
 one of the proudest and one of the firmest men of his age, 
 that, on approaching the pope, his voice trembled and his 
 composure was lost ; a trait of character on which I wish 
 to draw attention, as it evinces the quantity of superstition 
 which must have been implanted in his mind by early edu- 
 cation, and naturally connects itself with the cruel bigotry 
 of his after-conduct in the Low Countries. 
 
 To this war shortly succeeded the celebrated treaty of 
 Cateau Cambresis, by which Henry II. of France yielded 
 the fruits of many a long expedition and hard-fought field ; 
 and in the month of June the duke of Alva proceeded to 
 Paris, as proxy, to espouse for Philip the unhappy Elizabeth 
 of Prance, who had been formerly affianced to the infant 
 Don Carlos. 
 
 An entirely new scene, however, was about to open 
 before Alva. Nothing was more painful to the feelings of 
 the bigoted monarch of Spain, than to behold the pro- 
 gress which the Reformation was making in his Belgian 
 dominions ; and, resolved to crush the rising spirit of the 
 people, he sought a man as superstitious, as merciless, as 
 stern as himself, to press down the weight of tyranny upon 
 the devoted heads of his Plemish subjects. To superstition, 
 cruelty, and inflexibility, it was necessary that the instru- 
 ment of his despotic will should add the military talents 
 which might be required, if the people should rebel under 
 their burden, or other nations should interfere to relieve 
 them. Por every purpose of his heart, he could have 
 chosen none better than Alva ; and instead of dissuading 
 his imperious master from his purposed tyranny, that 
 general urged him to it by every argument calculated to 
 work upon the revengeful and intolerant mind of the 
 Spanish king. Many bold and noble counsellors had dared 
 to oppose advice and remonstrance to the monarch's inclina- 
 tion ; and had warned him that, by pursuing the violent 
 and arbitrary course to which he was inclined, he risked 
 the loss of some of his most valuable provinces. Alva, how- 
 ever, was by far too superstitious in his adherence to the 
 Eomish church, to view the Eeformers in any other light 
 
THE DUKE or ALVA. 135 
 
 than as detestable heretics, and too prejudiced an instru- 
 ment of arbitrary power, to regard an effort for freedom as 
 anything less than rebellion. He was at once, therefore, 
 the counsellor and the executor of Philip's schemes of 
 oppression. His advice was preferred to that of more 
 moderate or more prudent courtiers, and with a force suffi- 
 cient to overawe the discontented Belgians, that general 
 marched into Brussels in the summer of 1567. 
 
 It would be both too long and too painful to enter into 
 the minute detail of all the cruelties, persecutions, and 
 proscriptions, which the heartless bigot inflicted on the 
 unhappy people of the Netherlands. Consternation and 
 terror pervaded the whole country on his arrival, and blood, 
 massacre, and desolation, spread over the face of the land 
 around him. Happy were those protestants who could 
 hasten into exile ; for the flaming sword of persecution was 
 behind them, and neither rank, nor age, nor sex, was a pro- 
 tection. In a very short space of time, more than two 
 thousand people fell by the hands of the executioner ; at 
 the head of whom were the noble Counts Egmont and 
 Horn ; who had endeavoured, though too feebly, to rescue 
 their devoted country from its merciless tyrant. Every 
 species of torture that the diabolical genius of the inqui- 
 sition could invent was employed to punish those who pro- 
 fessed a diff'erent faith ; and even the detestable activity of 
 the holy office, not being found sufficient, a Council of 
 Tumults, as it was called, was instituted, to aid in the more 
 speedy punishment of the refractory. The duchess of 
 Parma, who had hitherto exercised the office of regent, 
 retired from a scene of horrors which was soon to become a 
 scene of civil wars ; and Alva, invested with immense and 
 extraordinary powers by his sovereign, speedily drove the 
 whole country into general revolt. 
 
 The first great effort of the Protestants of the Low Coun- 
 tries was made by the noble house of Nassau, led by the 
 prince of Orange. It is probably seldom that in the course 
 of human action any deed is prompted by one motive alone, 
 and in the case of the prince of Orange, many incitements 
 may have combined to urge him into resistance against the 
 cruel tyranny of Alva. Patriotism, individual revenge for 
 .personal persecution, and latent projects of ambition, may 
 
136 THE DrKE OF ALYA. 
 
 all have influenced his conduct in a degree ; but the effect- 
 was a wise, noble, and energetic defence of the rights of his 
 fellow-countrymen, and Alva soon found that he must call 
 forth all his powers to contend with the great mind opposed 
 to him. 
 
 Prince Louis of Nassau, brother of the prince of Orange, 
 first took the field ; and, accompanied by a body of Flemish 
 exiles and Grerman mercenaries, he entered the JSTetherlands, 
 and gained a complete victory over a detachment sent by 
 Alva to oppose him. 
 
 At the same time the prince of Orange and other mem- 
 bers of the house of Nassau made every effort in neigh- 
 bouring countries ; but, in the end, the genius and the 
 force of Alva triumphed over all the power they could 
 raise, and for some time upheld him in the painful situation- 
 of a detested, dreaded, conquering tyrant. 
 
 Prince Louis of Nassau was defeated in the first regular 
 attempt to oppose him in person. Immediately after the 
 condemnation of the Counts Egmont and Horn, Alva, warned 
 of the prince's march and previous success, set out with a 
 considerable force in order to fight the enemy, who was 
 already in the field, before the prince of Orange also could 
 come up. Prince Louis had taken up his position with 
 great skill, and had fortified it with great care ; but the 
 rapidity of Alva's march brought him to the ground 
 before the country could be inundated by breaking down 
 the dykes. The Grermans in the prince's army mutinied in 
 the moment of need. Alva had information of everything, 
 was ready instantly to take advantage of his enemy's 
 embarrassment, attacked him in his intrenchments, and 
 gained a complete and signal victory, with the loss of but 
 eighty men. The army of the prince was scattered like 
 chaff' before the wind, and nearly seven thousand fell by the 
 sword. 
 
 Shortly after, the prince of Orange, who had gathered' 
 together a force even superior to that of Spain, advanced 
 towards the Low Countries, passed the Ehine unopposed,, 
 and directed his march upon Liege. Pinding that town 
 less favourably disposed than he had anticipated, he deter- 
 mined upon crossing the Mouse, and forcing the Spanish- 
 
THE DUKE OP ALVA. 137 
 
 general to a battle. Alva, however, guarded the bank of 
 the river with watchful care ; and, even after the prince had 
 succeeded in crossing the stream during the night, so 
 sedulously avoided a battle, that his adversary could by 
 no means attack him but with infinite disadvantage ta 
 himself. Perfectly aware of all the difficulties of his 
 enemy's situation, Alva, determined to wear him out. He 
 followed him continually, cutting off his supplies, harass- 
 ing his rear, embarrassing his movements, and always at the 
 same time entrenching himself with such skill, that no 
 danger could result to his own army. 
 
 ISTo general ever conducted a campaign with more con- 
 summate art, activity, and energy than the duke of Alva 
 on the present occasion. 
 
 William of Orange also displayed great abilities and^ 
 great resolution ; but his troops were raw and refractory,, 
 his opponent acute and talented, and at length he was 
 forced by the persevering skill of Alva to disband his troops^, 
 and at once to retire into exile. 
 
 The arrogance and cruelty of Alva rose with his good 
 fortune, and no bound seemed put to his exaction. Both, 
 for the gratification of his own vanity, flattered by success, 
 and for the purpose of making that success appear still 
 more tremendous in the eyes of the oppressed Flemings,, 
 Alva caused medals to be struck, and statues to be wrought, 
 commemorating his own triumphs, and the failure of those- 
 who had attempted to restore liberty to Belgium. At the 
 same time he applied much of his time to purposes whicb 
 do more honour to his name than his victories, and which, 
 had they been worthily pursued, would have acted in some 
 degree as a compensation for the effects of his many crimes. 
 He endeavoured to regulate and extend the trade of Flan- 
 ders, and to prevent the corruption of the current coin, but 
 at the same time he neutralized every advantage which the- 
 very wish of benefiting the commerce of the country might 
 have produced, by loading the people with grievous and 
 illegal taxes, which at once burdened traffic, agriculture, 
 and manufacture. Even the Catholic inhabitants of the 
 country now became subject to the most rigorous taxation : 
 the goods of foreign merchants were seized in the seaports,. 
 
138 THE DUKE OF ALVA. 
 
 and such cities as in any shape resisted his demands wer® 
 punished by receiving strong bodies of troops, licensed to 
 live at free quarters upon the inhabitants. 
 
 His cruelty and arrogance had rendered Alva detestable 
 in the eyes of the people ; but it required oppression which 
 came generally home to the hearts of all, to drive the coun- 
 try again into revolt. This oppression was felt in the new 
 and ill-judged taxes, by which he sought to keep up the 
 military force which he had no other means of paying ; and 
 intrigues with the exiled Protestants, followed by risings in 
 various considerable cities, were the immediate results. 
 The important town of the Brille was taken about this time 
 by the exiles ; and Count Bossut, sent to recapture it by 
 Alva, miscarried in the attempt, and had the mortification, 
 in his retreat, to see place after place shut its gates against 
 him and raise the standard of freedom. The spirit spread 
 far and wide. Flushing joined those cities already in a 
 state of rebellion. The whole of Zealand, a part of North 
 Holland, Leyden, Dort, Haerlem, and many other towns 
 throughout Overyssel and Friesland, shook off the Spanish 
 yoke. 
 
 At the same time. Count Louis of Nassau, who had long 
 been apparently inactive in France, suddenly entered the 
 Netherlands with five hundred horse and a thousand mus- 
 keteers, and by stratagem made himself master of Mons, 
 the capital of Hainault. 
 
 Alva for a time remained undecided, whether he should 
 march to put down the rebellion in the north, or at once 
 attack Mons, and check any further attempt upon the 
 southern frontier. He determined upon the latter, and 
 soon after besieged that city in form. With the most 
 extraordinary care he shut up all the avenues of access and 
 entrenched his camp in the strongest possible manner. His 
 precautions were not without cause, for "William prince of 
 Orange was already once more in the Low Countries, and 
 was advancing with a strong and increasing army to the 
 relief of Mons. The prince marched on as a conqueror ; and 
 by force or stratagem he gained possession of Euremond, 
 Mechlin, Nivelle, Diest, Sichem, Tillemont, Dendermond, 
 and Oudenard. It is but just, however, to acknowledge 
 iiere, that, if the soldiers of the duke of Alva committed 
 
THE DUKE OP ALVA. 139 
 
 :^reat excesses in the towns they took during the civil war, 
 those of the prince of Orange conducted themselves with 
 as little moderation, and perpetrated as many atrocities 
 under the plea of religious zeal. There is little difference, 
 in general, between the intemperance of superstition and 
 that of fanaticism ; and the first excesses of newly-liberated 
 slaves have almost always been more dreadful than the 
 most frantic acts of despotism. The army of the prince 
 still advanced, and in a very short time appeared before the 
 'Camp of the Spaniards in battle array. 
 
 The Spanish troops were eager to quit their lines and 
 give battle to the G-ermans ; but Alva had formed his plan 
 for the reduction of the city upon other grounds, and 
 neither all the endeavours of the prince . of Orange, nor 
 the solicitation of his friends and officers, could induce him 
 to hazard even an unnecessary skirmish. 
 
 At the same time he took care that no succour should 
 penetrate to the town, and skilfully repelled every effort to 
 introduce it. The hopes of relieving Mons were thus frus- 
 trated ; and, after making an attempt to storm the Spanish 
 lines, in which he was repulsed with great loss, the prince 
 was obliged to retire, and leave the city to its fate. Alva 
 immediately quitted his intrenchments, followed the motions 
 of the prince's army, prevented his return, harassed his 
 retreat, and finally, after having made a severe night attack 
 upon the Germans, he returned to the siege, and pressed it 
 on every side with redoubled energy. The prince of Orange 
 was soon obliged to disband his army. Mons fell, after 
 holding out a brief space longer, and the duke turned his 
 arms in other directions. 
 
 We shall not pursue the details of the succeeding cam- 
 paigns. At the siege of Mons, Alva displayed fully the 
 peculiar characteristics of his genius as a general ; namely, 
 (resolution, firmness in whatever plan he had adopted upon 
 mature reflection, activity in drawing the greatest positive 
 advantage from the success of his schemes, and cool prudence 
 in risking nothing without some certainty of great com- 
 pensation. 
 
 Mechlin was now retaken by the Spanish troops; and 
 though in fact it surrendered without resistance, all the 
 horrors of a town captured by storm were inflicted os the 
 
140 . THE DUKE OF ALVA. 
 
 defenceless inhabitants. The health of the duke himself 
 had been declining, and he now left the chief command of 
 the army to his son Frederick of Toledo, who proceeded 
 from city to city, avenging the least opposition by bloodshed 
 and rapine. 
 
 Prom most of the towns in which the prince of Orange 
 had placed any body of troops the garrisons fled on the first 
 approach of the Spaniards ; but Zutphen offered some resist- 
 ance ; and though at length the German forces which it 
 contained retreated, and the inhabitants immediately opened 
 their gates to Toledo, scenes of massacre and lust were 
 perpetrated which no language has power to reprobate 
 sufficiently. 
 
 The terror of these dreadful excesses spread through the 
 country ; and as Toledo advanced, one town after another 
 sent messengers to assure him of their obedience, and to 
 deprecate his anger. Where unconditional submission was 
 immediately made, Toledo acted with moderation ; but the 
 least resistance inflamed his brutal anger almost to madness. 
 The people of JSTaerden made but a show of opposition ; and 
 then, immediately repenting, submitted upon a promise of 
 pardon, given by a person appointed to treat with them by 
 Toledo himself. But the treacherous general violated without 
 remorse the engagement of his agent, indulged his soldiers 
 in every species of rapine and violence, slaughtered the 
 citizens, and gave the city to the flames. 
 
 So far he advanced, at once cruel and triumphant ; but at 
 length Haerlem offered an obstacle to his progress, which 
 for a time seemed insurmountable. The inhabitants de- 
 fended themselves with an all-enduring courage, which set 
 his most vigorous efforts at defiance, and but for the earnest 
 and reiterated commands of his father he would probably 
 have raised the siege. At length, however, upon a promise 
 of quarter, the garrison surrendered, and the Spaniards took 
 possession of the town. What followed offers an instance of 
 cool, perfidious cruelty, perhaps unequalled in the records of 
 the world. The garrison and the inhabitants were shut up 
 in separate churches, and taught to believe, during three 
 days, that no infraction of the terms would take place. At 
 length, however, Alva himself arrived, and in cold blood 
 determined with his son the massacre of the greater part 
 
THE DUKE or ALYA. 141 
 
 of tlieir prisoners. Three hundred "Walloons were first 
 butchered ; then followed the death of the greater part of 
 the principal citizens. None of the foreign soldiers even 
 were spared ; and when weariness compelled the murderers 
 to lay down the steel, they tied their unhappy captives two 
 by two, and drowned tliem in the Sparen ; neither did the 
 sick or the wounded find mercy, but, dragged from the 
 hospital into the court-yard, they were slaughtered as they 
 lay. 
 
 The siege of Alcmaer was next determined upon; but 
 here the arms of the Spaniards were completely unsuccess- 
 ful. The fate of the garrison and people of Haerlem was a 
 warning to all who had once begun resistance to carry it on 
 to the death. The inhabitants of tbe town repulsed the first 
 furious attack of the Spaniards with great slaughter ; and 
 the duke of Alva, having received intelligence that the Hol- 
 lauders were about, by opening tlieir sluices, to inundate the 
 whole country round, commanded his son to raise the siege, 
 and disperse his troops in winter quarters. 
 
 Alva had long ere this applied for permission to resign 
 the government of the Low Countries, and to return to 
 Spain. That permission was now granted ; and, loaded with 
 the curses of a nation that his tyranny had driven to de- 
 speration, he took his departure for his native country. His 
 health was broken by a long residence in a moist, insalu- 
 brious climate ; and he was heartily rejoiced to be freed 
 from a situation which was every hour becoming more diffi- 
 cult and dangerous. As out of the foul manure which we 
 place upon our ground rise up the fairest flowers and fruits, 
 good often in this world springs from that apparently the 
 least calculated to produce it. The tyranny of the duke of 
 Alva procured a nation its liberty ; and his bigotry delivered 
 it from the yoke of persecution. Yet, as he left the Low 
 Countries, none said "God bless him!" and it is probable 
 that not one soul accompanied his journey with a good wish. 
 Perhaps the most revolting circumstance is, that superstition 
 and bigotry had so perverted his mind, that the evil he com- 
 mitted was done under the firmest conviction that he was 
 doing right ; and even as he left a land which his cruelty 
 had desolated, and his exactions driven into anarchy and 
 revolt, he boasted that eighteen thousand heretics had. 
 
142 THE DUKE OF ALYA. 
 
 under Ms administration, suffered by the executioner, be- 
 Bides a much greater number whom he had put to the- 
 sword. 
 
 Alva now returned to the court of Philip, and was 
 received by that monarch with as much distinction as his 
 cold and haughty character would permit him to show ; but 
 Alva was by nature too much like that king himself. His 
 arrogance and his pride gave oifence even to the monarch, 
 and he soon had himself to taste that unbending severity 
 which he had often exercised upon others. His son, Don 
 Garcia de Toledo, had seduced one of the queen's ladies of 
 honour under a promise of marriage. The intrigue was 
 discovered, and the king insisted that the promise should be 
 fulfilled. This the pride of Alva would not permit; and, 
 assisting his son to escape from the confinement in which 
 he had been placed by Philip, he rendered the breach.; 
 •of his promise irrevocable by marrying him to another 
 iperson. 
 
 The anger of the king at the contempt of his authority 
 was roused to the highest point ; and banishing Alva from 
 his presence, he confined him to the castle of Uzeda, whera 
 he remained, in spite of all solicitation, near two years. 
 
 Alva remonstrated and complained and petitioned, but in 
 vain ; all his services were forgotten in his fault ; and it was 
 not till Philip. prepared for the conquest of Portugal that he- 
 obtained his liberty. 
 
 On the death of Henry, king of that country, several 
 claimants had appeared for the crown, only three of whom 
 were so circumstanced as to assert their pretensions with 
 any chance of success. These three were the duchess of 
 Eraganza; Philip, king of Spain; and Antonio, prior of 
 Crato. In the first was the direct and evident right of suc- 
 cession, being descended from the eldest male branch of the- 
 royal family ; but her power was small when compared with 
 the second competitor, Philip, who was the son of her aunt, 
 and consequently claimed by the female line. Don Antonio, 
 the third claimant, was the child of her father's younger 
 brother, but was undoubtedly illegitimate. JSTevertheless 
 he possessed considerable popularity, and a large party in 
 the state ; and when Henry, after having in Yain attempted 
 to settle the succession, died, leaving the point undeter- 
 
THE DUKE OF ALVA. 14? 
 
 mined, Don Antonio was better prepared to resist the 
 SpanisTi forces than any other competitor. 
 
 Philip immediately determined to decide the question of 
 succession by arms ; and a skilful and determined general 
 became necessary to lead the force he had collected. The 
 monarch then sent to Alva's prison, to offer him the com- 
 mand of the army destined for that expedition ; and though 
 aged, broken, and weary of command, Alva, with that 
 devoted attachment to the service of his sovereign which 
 had always formed one great trait in his character, accepted 
 the fatiguing honour put upon him, and obeyed without a 
 murmur. 
 
 Philip, though trusting him with so distinguished a com- 
 mand, had not yet sufficiently forgotten his offence to see 
 him ; and Alva, having received written orders, proceeded to 
 Eadajos, where, having joined his troops, he marched directly 
 into Portugal, and advanced towards Lisbon. 
 
 Por some time he met with no opposition ; and the towns, 
 though generally averse to the government of Spain, being 
 unprepared for resistance, threw open their gates to receive 
 him. At Cascaes his progress was at length arrested for a 
 short time by an army raised in favour of Don Antonio, one 
 of the claimants of the crown of Portugal. This, however, 
 he attacked and dispersed ; and having taken the town and 
 citadel of Cascaes, which, according to his old habits, he 
 suffered to be plundered, notwithstanding a positive promise 
 to the contrary ; he at the same time put to death, without 
 any form of trial or pretence at justification, Don Diego de 
 Menases, the commander-in-chief of the army of Antonio. 
 
 PoUowing up this victory, he proceeded as rapidly as 
 possible towards Lisbon, attacked and defeated Don Antonio 
 himself at iLlcantara, and entered the capital without further 
 opposition. Here, as everywhere else, he soon contrived to 
 alienate the hearts of the people, by suffering his soldiers to 
 plunder the large and beautiful suburbs, and all the towns 
 and villages round about. His measures, however, as a 
 general, were all well calculated to succeed ; and in a very 
 short time the whole of Portugal was reduced to a province 
 of Spain. The duke of Praganza himself took the oath 
 prescribed to him by the haughty duke of Alva; and all 
 competition seemed crushed by the superior power of Philip 
 
144j the duke oe alva. 
 
 and the talents of his general. This, however, was the last 
 service that Alva rendered to the Spanish crown. He had 
 already reached the age of seventy when he undertook the 
 conquest of Portugal; and in a few years after he died, 
 leaving the reputation of a great commander, but a cruel, 
 haughty, bigoted man. 
 
 Pew of those pointed speeches are attributed to him 
 which are generally, falsely or truly, heaped upon the 
 reputation of all persons who have distinguished them- 
 selves. The only military maxims which he left are, " that 
 ^11 human things are precarious, but the most precarious of 
 all is a battle ;" '' that it ought not to be the aim of a general 
 to fight, but to overcome ;" and " that there are many means 
 by which this aim may be accomplished more successfully 
 than by fighting." 
 
 He also was wont to observe, " that a general should be 
 both old and young — sometimes to employ the prudence of 
 age, and sometimes the ardour of youth." 
 
 Such are reported to have been his familiar sayings. In 
 the daily commerce of the world we are obliged to take 
 speeches upon trust, and are too often deceived ; but in his- 
 tory, where a man's deeds form a continual comment on his 
 seemings, we have little to do with sayings. Pine speeches, 
 like fine clothes, are put on upon state occasions ; and he who 
 judges and describes from what a celebrated man said during 
 his life, might nearly as well depict his coat to give an idea 
 of his character. Even a man's actions sometimes lie ; but 
 they cannot do so always ; and it is from the general tenour 
 that we must judge of the heart that prompts and the mind 
 that governs them 
 
145 
 
 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Born 25tli April, 1599 — Goes to college — Studies the law in London — 
 Early debaucheries — ^Turns fanatic — Marries in his twenty-first year — 
 Inherits property, and is returned to Parliament — Becomes a farmer 
 — Attempts to emigrate — Reverses — Obtains a commission under 
 the Parliament, and raises a regiment against the king — Success 
 near Grantham — Battle of Gainsborough — ^Victorious at Winsleyfield 
 — Battle of Marston Moor — Newark taken by storm — ^Appointed 
 lieutenant-general — Battle of Naseby — Pension and honours from 
 Parliament — Trial and execution of the king — Commands in Ireland 
 — Campaign in Scotland — Battle of Dunbar — Takes Edinburgh — 
 Battle of Worcester — Dissolves the Parliament — Council of state — 
 Dismisses the Barebones Parliament — Inaugurated Protector — His 
 great character in that office — Dies 3rd September, 1658. 
 
 Oliver Cromwelij was the son of Eobert Cromwell, a 
 brewer in Huntingdon, and was born on the 25th April, 
 1599. His family was respectable, and his uncle, Sir Oliver 
 Cromwell, a man of some consideration. Beyond these facts 
 little is ascertained, though antiquarian research, joined to 
 the love of the extraordinary, has discovered or invented in 
 his behalf a descent from nobility and a family of princes. 
 Those who traced this high origin also attempted to prove 
 that his father did not exercise the trade by which he sup- 
 ported his family, as if commerce were in their eyes a stain 
 on a character where hypocrisy and fraud were none. But 
 the matter is beyond all doubt ; and those who have sought 
 to disprove it, only evinced that they shared the weakness 
 of those who made it matter of reproach to the house of 
 Cromwell. 
 
 Marvels have of course been provided for his childhood, 
 to harmonize with his pedigree and his actions ; but, amongst 
 all that are recorded, the only accident clearly ascertained 
 as having occurred to him in youth was a fall into the water, 
 which would have proved fatal had he not been rescued by a 
 clergyman of the name of Johnstone. The fact of his having 
 
146 OLTYER Cr^OMWELL. 
 
 performed in a play called " Lingua ; or, the Five Senses,'^' 
 acted by the scholars of Huntingdon school, in which, while 
 representing Tactus, or the touch, he stumbled on a crown 
 and royal robe, and repeated a score of lines somewhat 
 applicable to his after-fate, is only remarkable as a coin- 
 cidence ; and the circumstance of his having dreamed that 
 some one announced to him his future greatness — which 
 dream probably took place while his imagination was heated 
 by the play — deserves notice as having been current long 
 before he attained power, and as bearing the stamp of truth 
 from the pen of Clarendon. Whether this fancy served to> 
 nourish ambition and point endeavour historians do not 
 mention ; but it is recorded that he related it frequently 
 himself, probabl^^" with the view of conveying to the minds 
 of others those anticipations of his future greatness which 
 might lead them to co-operate in his attempts to obtain the- 
 realization of his dream. 
 
 At school he was a dull and idle boy; and when at 
 college,'^ which he entered in 1616, in his seventeenth year, 
 he did little as a youth to amend the neglect of his child- 
 hood. His father dying while he was at college, he was 
 sent to London to study the law. "What inn of court 
 received him is not known ; but he apparently made more 
 progress in debauchery than in his profession, and soon 
 returned to Huntingdon a gambler, a bully, and a rake.. 
 His faults served to alienate from him his most respectable^ 
 relations ; but the faults of his youth were of a very different 
 character from the faults of his manhood ; and, soon leaving 
 him, the same ardent temperament which had led him intO' 
 bodily excesses easily conducted him to mental ones. From 
 a libertine he became a fanatic, and the imagination which 
 had presented to him in boyhood a dream of coming aggran- 
 dizement, now taught him to believe in visions, and revela- 
 tions, and all the fantastic ecstasies of religious enthusiasm. 
 
 The men who rule the world require to have wisdom to 
 see and use the high qualities both of themselves and others, 
 and tact, while they take advantage of other men's faults,, 
 to turn their own also to account. This tact was most, 
 eminently possessed by Cromwell ; and his fanaticism, whicb 
 
 * Sidney Sussex College at Cambridge. 
 
OLITEB CROMWELli. 147 
 
 was his folly, lie had cunning enough to use with as much 
 success as his wisdom. 
 
 Before he Avas twenty-two Oliver Cromwell married 
 Elizabeth, the daughter of Sir James Bouchier, by which 
 it is said his small paternal property was increased. A 
 great change took place in his conduct : he became sober, 
 orderly, and thriving, and regained the good opinion of his 
 friends and relations. Abandoning the law, he seems to 
 have carried on his father's brewery ; but this part of his 
 history is obscure ; and all that is correctly known in regard 
 to it is, that he applied for a commission of lunacy against 
 his maternal uncle, Sir Thomas Steward, of Ely, which was 
 refused as unjust. Notwithstanding this proceeding, his 
 uncle was afterwards reconciled to him, and bequeathed 
 him the property of which he had so long coveted possession. 
 
 Huntingdon was at this time full of nonconformists, and 
 some of the most influential people in the place were sectj^- 
 rians. Whether from principle or policy, is not very clear ; 
 but to these people Cromwell paid the most assiduous 
 court, supported them in their opposition to the law, joined 
 their meetings on all occasions, and sometimes preached 
 himself for their edification. At length, in the third par- 
 liament of Charles I., the nonconformists of Huntingdon 
 secured the return of Cromwell to the House of Commons 
 as one of the representatives of that city ; and in his official 
 duty he opposed the prevailing principles of the court, 
 especially upon religion and church government. 
 
 It would seem that neither mercantile nor agricultural 
 pursuits were at all consonant to the mind and habits 
 of Oliver Cromwell ; for, apparently involved in difficulties, 
 he sold his family property in 1631, and took a farm near 
 St. Ives, in which he was equally unfortunate, and approached 
 the very brink of ruin. It was about this period that the 
 death of his uncle, Sir Thomas Steward, occurred, which 
 placed him for the time at his ease, by the inheritance 
 of considerable estates in the Isle of Ely. 
 
 Notwithstanding this relief, Cromwell appears to have 
 met with fresh difficulties; and shortly after, either from 
 discontent with his circumstances at home, or brooamg 
 hatred towards the government and the established cliurcn, 
 he embarked on board a ship destined for America, in which 
 
 jj 2 
 
148 OLIVEE CROMWELL. 
 
 his fellow-passengers are said to have been Sir Arthur 
 Hazelrigge, Hamgden, and Pym. The spirit of emigration 
 was then active in England, without the counterbalancing 
 circumstance of a dense population ; and the government of 
 Charles I., whose views, good or bad, were almost always 
 onforced by foolish, and often by illegal measures, had re- 
 course to the tyrannical act of stopping emigration by force, 
 without any specific law to that effect. Amongst the vessels 
 thus stopped was the one containing Oliver Cromwell and 
 his three companions, who bitterly visited on the head of 
 Charles the unjustifiable act by which they were detained. 
 
 Cromwell now returned home, to pass his time in gloomy 
 find hypochondriac reveries, in the mingled ravings of hypo- 
 crisy and fanaticism, and in factious opposition to one of 
 the best attempts to improve the country which had been 
 devised for many years. The attempt to which I allude was 
 the draining of the fens of the counties of Huntingdon, 
 Cambridge, Lincoln, and Northampton. This beneficial 
 measure was sanctioned by the royal authority, and of 
 course opposed by Cromwell, who, by inflaming the minds 
 of the people, carried his object and rendered the king's 
 views abortive. The popularity he thus obtained amongst 
 the lower orders, and the abilities he had displayed in the 
 dispute, procured him once more a seat in Parliament, and 
 in 1640 he was returned to represent the borough of 
 Cambridge. 
 
 It is not within the scope of this work to trace Cromwell 
 through all the long and tangled labyrinth of events which 
 led to the protracted and sanguinary civil war. It is suffi- 
 cient, that in every act of opposition to the government 
 Cromwell was one of the first. Hampden, his relation, 
 soon saw his abilities and prognosticated his greatness, 
 but believing Cromwell as sincere as himself, he never 
 dreamed how dangerous such a spirit as that of his cousin 
 might become to the very liberty he pretended to advocate. 
 The mingled weakness and haughtiness of the king, his 
 attempts to extend the royal prerogative, and his abandon- 
 ment of some of its best privileges — the mania for change, 
 and the unsparing virulence of religious zeal, which had 
 fallen as a disease upon the people — hurried the country on 
 trapidly towards those fatal scenes which last as a disgrace 
 
OLIVER CEOMWELL. 149 
 
 to the annals of the nation, and a proof of the barbarism of 
 the times. 
 
 It soon became evident that the sword must end the 
 dispute ; and, amongst the most ready to take arms against 
 the king was Cromwell. In the first instance the king had 
 been decidedly in fault, and either by the weakness of his 
 understanding, or by the arbitrary nature of his disposition, 
 had hurried on the events which brought about his over- 
 throw. But after a certain point, the criminality was 
 changed, and fell upon the Parliament, who, having extorted 
 from the king more than the constitution justified, would 
 not be even contented without the total subversion of his 
 legitimate authority. 
 
 Amongst the first acts of open hostility, we find those of 
 Cromwell, in sending down arms to St. Ives, and in forcibly 
 attempting to stop the plate which the University of Cam- 
 bridge had. despatched to aid the king. As neither party 
 were yet in arms, an Act of Indemnity was voted by the 
 Parliament to cover this first bold step ; and, as soon as 
 the war between the Commons and their king was abso- 
 lutely declared, Cromwell received a commission, under 
 which he speedily raised a regiment of horse in the district 
 where he was known. This regiment, by his care and 
 ability, he soon rendered superior to any other in the Par- 
 liamentary army. Seeing, with the quick glance of political 
 genius, that there was a spirit of chivalrous bravery in the 
 forces of the king, which the Parliamentary army — an 
 army composed, as he declared himself, of tapsters and 
 decayed serving men — could never meet with success, 
 Cromwell felt the necessity of opposing to it a spirit of 
 another kind, which should have equal power to raise and 
 support enthusiasm in the bosoms of his soldiers. Por 
 this purpose, he chose alone such men to fill the ranks of 
 his regiment, as felt, or could be taught, the fanatical zeal 
 of the age. Every dark and gloomy spirit to whose 
 imagination religion had become a disease was selected as 
 a follower of Cromwell, not alone with the narrower view 
 of preserving a community of sentiment between the 
 soldiers and their leader, but with the calm deliberate 
 policy of opposing the energy of loyalty by the energy of 
 fanaticism. In these men also, spiritual pride, while it 
 
150 OLIVER CEOMWELL. 
 
 gave them that confidence of victory which often secures 
 success, had overcome, at least in outward appearance, 
 those wild passions and dissolute habits by which success is 
 often cast away. Sober, gloomy, persevering, hardy, regu- 
 lar, obedient, brave, blood-thirsty, remorseless, the soldiers 
 of Cromwell's regiment were the most serviceable to the 
 Parliament and most terrible to their opponents. 
 
 Before the monarch was in arms, the Parliament were in 
 active hostility towards him ; and though, with a base 
 hypocrisy, they affected to be acting for the king's interest, 
 they used every effort to slaughter his servants and to ruin 
 his cause. The five eastern counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, 
 Cambridge, Essex, and Hertford, seem to have been par- 
 ticularly entrusted to the superintendence of Cromwell, 
 who, by his military activity and his energetic policy, 
 defeated a thousand attempts to rise in favour of Charles, 
 whose name he boldly made use of to suppress the efforts 
 of his friends. 
 
 The king's standard was at length erected at Notting- 
 ham ; and the earl of Essex, appointed to the command of 
 the Parliamentary army, advanced to Worcester. In the 
 first campaign between the loyalists and the Parliamentary 
 forces, we find little mention of Cromwell; and certain it 
 is, that he in no degree distinguished himself. The famous 
 battle of Edgehill took place without his presence, though 
 he was at that time within a few miles of the spot; and 
 from this fact, as well as many other circumstances, it has 
 been inferred, that he never risked his person or his forces, 
 but where some great and individual advantage was to be 
 gained. Though he feared not to fight for the purposes of 
 his own ambition, he loved not battle for the service of 
 others ; and, though he served the Parliament whenever it 
 was absolutely necessary, as the means of his own ascent to 
 power, farther than his personal interest was concerned he 
 cared little for their success. 
 
 The first events of the war were favourable to the king; 
 and the excessive demands of the Parliament, even under 
 their reverses, opened the eyes of many who had joined 
 them on principle to their real designs ; so that the party 
 of the monarch gained an accession of strength from the 
 very intemperance of his enemies. This, however, was but 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 151 
 
 -gmall when compared with the advantages the Parliament 
 ^acquired by the habit of war, the confirmed exercise of 
 authority, and the discovery and application of resources. 
 
 It was in the second year of civil strife, 1643, that Crom- 
 well first began to distinguish himself as a soldier. In a 
 skirmish near Grantham, he defeated a superior body of 
 Eoyalist cavalry ; and in the month of June marched to the 
 relief of Grainsborough, on which the Marquis of !N'ew- 
 ■castle, after defeating Fairfax, was advancing witli all speed, 
 in order to wrest it from the hands of Lord AYilloughby, 
 the Parliamentary general by whom it had been taken. 
 
 Cromwell arrived with twelve troops of horse at the 
 moment the advanced guard of the Eoyalists appeared on 
 the hill above Gainsborough. Treble numbers, advan- 
 tageous position, and recent victory, gave the royal forces 
 every advantage. But Cromwell was now sole in the com- 
 mand ; the fame of victory or the dishonour of defeat 
 would attach to him alone, and he hesitated not a moment 
 to attack his adversaries. He accordingly charged them 
 up the hill; and, after a severe but short struggle, he 
 broke their ranks, threw them into confusion, and drove 
 the greater part into a morass, where his soldiers butchered 
 them without mercy. JN'o quarter was shown ; and amongst 
 other men of distinction who were here slaughtered after 
 their surrender was the gallant and unhappy Cavendish, 
 the brother of the marquis of Newcastle. 
 
 The earl of Manchester, who with many other noble- 
 men had joined the Parliament, now lay with his small 
 army near Boston ; and thither Cromwell marched, as the 
 \raain army of the Eoyalists advanced after the battle of 
 'Gainsborough. His conduct during that battle, and the 
 ^success by which it was followed, had already acquired for 
 •Cromwell a considerable reputation, and rendered him a 
 iparticular object of hatred and attack to the Eoyalists. 
 Amongst the rest. Sir John Henderson, detached with a 
 large body of horse from the army of Lord Newcastle, 
 eagerly sought for Cromwell, and came up with him near 
 Horncastle. The place was called Winsleyfield, and Crom- 
 well, though far inferior in force to his antagonist, and 
 separated from the army of the earl of Manchester, did 
 jiot fear to risk the encounter. As soon as he learned the 
 
152 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 approach of Sir Jolin Henderson, he gave out the words^, 
 " Truth and peace," together with a psalm, which was sung 
 by the whole troop ; and then, turning to meet the enemy, 
 he poured his force upon them in their advance. The 
 cavalry of both parties were at that time furnished with 
 fire-arms, and the loyalists received the rebels with a 
 tremendous discharge. Cromwell's horse was killed under 
 him as the two armies joined ; and after having risen he 
 was again brought to the ground, by a blow on the head 
 which stunned him for a moment. Almost instantly reco- 
 vering himself, he was remounted by one of his troopers ; 
 and, fighting with desperate bravery, he turned the tide of 
 battle, which at first was going against him, and com- 
 pletely routed the greatly superior force of the king. 
 
 The five eastern counties which I have named before, 
 had at this time formed a sort of association against the 
 king, which they called preserving themselves for his 
 majesty ; and by their united efibrts Colonel Cromwell was 
 now at the head of two thousand of the best cavalry in 
 Europe. "With these forces he gained several trifling 
 advantages in the field, but rendered the more fruitful 
 service to the Parliament of keeping the east of England in 
 check, and preventing any rising there which might have 
 co-operated with the success of Charles and Prince Eupert 
 in the west, to the total destruction of the rebels. He also 
 took means the most unjustifiable to swell the finances of 
 his party, by the plunder and oppression of their opponents ; 
 and exercised various acts of outrage upon the clergy of 
 the established church, as well as upon the cathedrals and 
 other ancient buildings which they held sacred. 
 
 The most tremendous blow which the power of the king 
 had yet received was struck about this time, by the union 
 of the Scottish nation with his refractory Parliament. Eor 
 this purpose, a solemn league and covenant, as it was 
 called, was proposed by the Scotch to the English houses 
 of parliament, and was accepted. Cromwell, amongst the 
 rest, put his signature to the paper, which, with various other 
 things that he never intended to fulfil, bound him to defend 
 the king's majesty*s person and authority. Such is the 
 pitch of hypocrisy to which the alliance of fanaticism and 
 ambition can carry human cunning. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. * 15^ 
 
 Charles now called a parliament at Oxford, and at th& 
 same time recalled liis army from Ireland ; but the former 
 measure failed entirely to counterbalance the influence of 
 the London parliament ; and of the forces from Ireland, a 
 part were defeated by Fairfax, near JSTantwich, and part 
 went over to the enemy. 
 
 About this period, also, took place the famous battle of 
 Marston Moor, which laid the basis of Cromwell's power 
 more firmly than it had been established by any other cir- 
 cumstance ; yet, strange to say, left an imputation upon his 
 personal courage, apparently incompatible with most of his 
 other actions. A large body of Scottish auxiliaries had 
 crossed the Tweed at Berwick on the fifteenth of January, 
 and on the twentieth of April effected their junction with 
 the Parliamentary army. Accompanied by these, Manches- 
 ter, Fairfax, and Cromwell, with united forces far superior 
 to those opposed to them, had forced the marquis of New- 
 castle to abandon the open country and take refuge in Tork^ 
 where they pursued and besieged him. Prince E-upert, who 
 was then in Wales, received the most pressing commands 
 from Charles to march and relieve that city, which he accord- 
 dingly did ; and having joined his forces with those of New- 
 castle, insisted on giving battle to the enemy, notwithstand- 
 ing the strongest opposition on the part of the Marquis and 
 most of the other officers. Prince Eupert's obstinacy on 
 this occasion has been defended by several writers, who 
 urge that he acted in conformity to the positive orders of 
 the king. 
 
 Charles's letter, however, does not bear out the assertion. 
 The monarch only commands his nephew to relieve York, 
 but does not demand that he should absolutely risk a battle. 
 York was for the time relieved, and by skilful manoeuvres 
 that relief might have been made absolute ; but the impetu- 
 osity of the prince led him always to prefer battle to strata- 
 gem, and induced him to overbear the opinions of the other 
 commanders. 
 
 To describe the battle which now took place, properly, is 
 perfectly impossible ; for the accounts of it, as given by 
 writers of equal authority, are so diametrically opposite to 
 each other — the virulence of party and national prejudice, 
 is so abundant on both sides — and there are so many reasons 
 
154 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 for believing a part of each description to be false, witliout 
 any means of ascertaining which part is true — that I must 
 even leave it in darkness as I found it. 
 
 The known facts are, that the Eoyalist and Parliamentary 
 armies met upon Marston Moor in Yorkshire, and that 
 Cromwell, then lieutenant-general, commanded the horse 
 of the left wing. A strange mixture of courage and weak- 
 ness seems to have been displayed on both sides. Alter- 
 •nately each party was victorious, and the fate of the battle 
 was at length decided by a charge of Cromwell's horse, 
 which carried all before it. The army of Prince Bupert and 
 the marquis of Newcastle was completely routed ; their 
 colours, cannon, and baggage, fell into the hands of the 
 ^enemy ; an immense number of officers and soldiers re- 
 mained upon the field of battle ; and while the marquis of 
 Newcastle quitted England in disgust. Prince E/upert saved 
 the remnant of his army by a hurried retreat into AVales. 
 
 In regard to the question of the person to whom the 
 honour of this great victory was to be attributed, an angry 
 discussion took place even within a few days of the battle. 
 The fanatics, calling themselves Independents, raised Crom- 
 well to the sky, and assigned all the success of the day to 
 him, while the Scotch and Presbyterians accused him of 
 cowardice, and declared that he had slunk away from the 
 fight. That the battle of Marston Moor was finally decided 
 by the charge of Cromwell's horse is clear ; but it is equally 
 dear that Cromwell was not present at that last charge. He 
 had been wounded in the beginning of the battle^ some 
 declare so slightly as to be of no consequence, while others 
 affirm that the injury was more serious ; but, at all events, 
 on the excuse of this wound he retired from the field, and 
 another officer led his cavalry to their final exertions. That 
 a man can at one moment display the most resolute courage 
 and at the next the most pitiful cowardice, without some 
 great object to be gained, I do not believe. Circumstanced 
 as Cromwell was during the whole of the civil wars, courage 
 ■could not be assumed if he did not possess it ; for fear is 
 known so utterly to incapacitate its victims for thought or 
 action, that the man possessed by it could never have been 
 found leading, commanding, observing, improving every ad- 
 '^antage on his own side, and seizing on every fault of his 
 
OLIVEK CKOMWELL. 155 
 
 caemy, through moments of the utmost personal danger 
 and a long course of perilous years. Cromwell's absence at 
 the moment of the last charge must have proceeded either 
 from his wound being severe, or from some motive of deep 
 cunning which we can only appreciate at this moment from 
 the general tone of his character. That he was a hypochon- 
 driac, I have no doubt, and trembled at imaginary dangers ; 
 but a coward in the moment of activity and exertion, he 
 was not. 
 
 "While Charles himself pursued the earl of Esses into 
 Cornwall, and forced his army to lay down their arms, Man- 
 chester and Cromwell, with the Scottish forces, took New- 
 castle by storm, and then marched with all speed to join the 
 army which the Parliament had now collected to supply the 
 place of that which had surrendered in Cornwall. This was 
 effected ; and, with much superior force, the Parliamentary 
 generals advanced to attack the king, who had concentrated, 
 his troops at JNiewbury. The battle was long and obstinate. 
 The earl of Essex being ill, the command had devolved upon 
 the earl of Manchester. Cromwell commanded the horse, 
 and gave the most striking proofs that cowardice was no 
 part of his character. Notwithstanding his repeated charges, 
 however, the royal army maintained its position till night ; 
 and then retreated from the field in good order. Cromwell 
 afterwards declared that if the earl of Manchester would 
 have allowed him to charge the king's forces at the moment 
 they were retiring, he would have rendered the victory com- 
 plete ; but this the commander-in-chief would not permit ; 
 and Charles afterwards boldly removed his cannon from 
 Donnington Castle, and took up a formidable position in the 
 face of the enemy. 
 
 This conduct afforded a favourable opportunity to Crom- 
 well for taking some of the greatest steps in his course of 
 hypocritical ambition. The balance of power between the 
 Houses of Peers and Commons had been gradually leaning 
 more and more towards the democratical part of the assem- 
 bly ; and now the preponderance had become so great, that 
 the nobles who had hitherto adhered to all the measures of 
 the Parliament found the insanity of their conduct, and 
 endeavoured to stem the torrent the floodgates against 
 which tboy had so greatly contributed to open. 
 
156 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Cromwell, whose tendency to democratical principles^ 
 though always subservient to his personal ambition, was the 
 original bias of his disposition and the natural effect of hi& 
 situation, was of course peculiarly obnoxious to the Parlia- 
 mentary lords. His religion and ecclesiastical policy ren- 
 dered him hateful to the Scotch ; and he had apparently 
 long contemplated the necessity of removing the persons 
 opposed to him from their commands in the army. His 
 first step was loud complaints against the earl of Manches- 
 ter, whom he accused of trifling with opportunity and 
 favouring the king by inaction. In these charges Lord 
 Essex himself was not spared ; and, as the desire of Man- 
 chester, Denbigh, Essex, and many others, evidently tended 
 towards a general pacification, which would have soon re- 
 duced many of the most active members of the House of 
 Commons to their original insignificance, Cromwell was 
 supported in his designs by a very large majority in that 
 assembly. 
 
 As nothing was to be done in that day without hypocrisy, 
 the pretence used for depriving these nobles of their command 
 was the very reverse of the true motives. A self-denying 
 ordinance, as it was called, was proposed by Cromwell and 
 carried through the House of Commons, by which it was 
 decreed, that in order to prevent the Parliament seeking to 
 carry on the war for the sake of continuing its great autho- 
 rity, no person holding a seat therein should be eligible to 
 any military or civil command. This ordinance the House 
 of Peers first rejected and afterwards accepted, having taken 
 the intermediate step of passing a bill, proposed to them by 
 the Commons, for new modelling the arm}^, the execution 
 of which was entrusted to Sir Thomas Fairfax and Major- 
 general Skippon. 
 
 As the real object of both these measures was the prolon- 
 gation of the war for the extension and continuance of the 
 Parliamentary authority, while the pretext was to guard 
 against that very desire in the minds of the members — so 
 also, the measure by which Cromwell intended to obtain the 
 entire command of the army was cunningly framed with 
 the appearance of excluding him from command. 
 
 Eairfax, to whom the chief military authority was given, 
 was an easy and sincere man; active and energetic in the 
 
OLITEK CEOMWELL. 157 
 
 execution of rapid movements, but incapable of devising 
 great schemes himself, and totally blind to character and to 
 human nature. Fairfax w^as appointed commander-in- 
 chief; Skippou, major-general ; but the post of lieutenant- 
 general, between the two, was left open for Cromwell. 
 Manchester, Essex, Denbigh, Warwick, and other members 
 of either House laid down their commissions ; and immedi- 
 ately the manoeuvre was begun to bring about an exception 
 in favour of Cromwell. His services were first actively re- 
 quired in various particular spots ; his soldiers then muti- 
 nied through fear of losing their beloved general ; the king 
 was next found to be threatening the Isle of Ely, which no- 
 body could defend or command but Cromwell ; and at length 
 Sir Thomas Fairfax, with all the principal officers of his 
 army, addressed a petition to Parliament, praying that the 
 chief command of the horse might be conferred upon Lieu- 
 tenant-general Cromwell. This humble petition being in 
 perfect accordance with the design of the House of Com- 
 mons, was immediately granted ; and while Fairfax lent 
 his military skill to the completion of Cromwell's artful 
 policy,* the real power over the army became vested in 
 the latter, who soon contrived to render the army the 
 state. 
 
 Before his appointment as lieutenant-general of Fair- 
 fax's army, and while acting as a detached partisan, Crom- 
 well's successes were not equal to his failures. He defeated 
 a body of troops marching upon Oxford, took Blessingdon 
 House, and worsted Sir William Yaughan ; but he failed in 
 his assault of Farringdon House, and was completely de- 
 feated by Greneral Groring. 
 
 In the mean while the negotiations for peace between the 
 monarch and his Parliament had been broken off: nor can 
 it be supposed that the House of Commons ever dreamed 
 that their proposals would be accepted — proposals, the fun- 
 damental principles of which were, that the Episcopal 
 church should be done away, the Presbyterian religion esta- 
 blished, and all the appointments in the army should be 
 filled up by the Parliament. 
 
 After the rupture of the negotiations, Charles success- 
 fully attempted the relief of Chester, took Leicester by 
 storm, and made a demonstration of turning his arms 
 
158 OLITER CEOMWELL, 
 
 against York and ISTorthumberland. Fairfax and Cromwell^,, 
 with united forces, now marched to prevent the execution 
 of this purpose, and advanced to the immediate neighbour- 
 hood of Harborough, whither Charles had retreated from 
 Daventry. JN'ews of their proximity reached the royal head- 
 quarters at night, and a couQcil was hastily summoned, at 
 which it was resolved to give the enemy battle next morn- 
 ing. The position first taken by the king was an advan- 
 tageous one in every respect, being situated on a rising 
 ground above the plain leading to Naseby. The right of 
 the royal forces was commanded by Prince Eupert, the left 
 by Sir Marmaduke Langdale, the centre by Lord Ashley, 
 and the reserve by the earl of Litchfield. The wings were 
 composed of cavalry, the centre of foot; and horse and 
 infantry were mingled in the reserve. The king himself 
 retained the chief command of the whole. 
 
 The enemy not appearing. Prince Eupert was thrown for- 
 ward to reconnoitre their position ; and, imagining that they 
 were in retreat, he sent word to the king that such was the 
 case. Charles, in order to take them at a disadvantage, 
 abandoned his strong ground on the height and descended 
 into the fatal plain of Naseby, where he soon found the 
 enemy prepared to receive him. 
 
 Here also the cavalry were on the wings, which were 
 commanded, the right by Cromwell, the left by his son-in- 
 law, Ireton ; while the centre, under Fairfax, was almost en- 
 tirely infantry. The action began on the right of the royal 
 army by a brilliant charge by Prince Eupert, who bore down 
 everything before him. Ireton fought long and manfully 
 on the side of the Parliament, but his troops were routed in 
 every direction, and Prince Eupert, with that mad selfishness 
 called impetuosity, continued to pursue the fugitives, with- 
 out heeding or caring for the success of the rest of his army. 
 In the mean time Cromwell, at the head of the Parliamen- 
 tary right, charged Sir Marmaduke Langdale, and after a 
 long, steady, and determined fight, completely defeated the 
 royal cavalry opposed to him. lN"ever for a moment forget- 
 ting the great object of the whole, Cromwell pursued the 
 Eoyalists no farther than to secure their dispersion, and then 
 turned upon the flank of the king's infantry, which was at 
 that time engaged in a desperate struggle with the centre 
 
OLIYEB CHOMWELL. 1511* 
 
 of the Parliamentary forces, who were giving way in several 
 points of their line. 
 
 Had Prince Eupert returned at that instant, the battle 
 would have been won ; but the charge of Cromwell upon 
 the flank of the royal infantry, was decisive ; and before the^ 
 right wing of the Cavaliers re-appeared, the whole of their 
 army was in confusion. The king was seen exposing his 
 person in every direction, endeavouring to rally his troops ; 
 but by the conduct of Cromwell, and the fatal neglect of 
 Prince Eupert, the battle was lost, and the tardy return of 
 his victorious cavalry only enabled the monarch to quit the^ 
 deld of battle in safety. 
 
 Extraordinary as it may seem, this severe and protracted^ 
 battle was fought with the death of less than two thousand! 
 men on both sides: but the king lost the whole of his 
 artillery, his stores, cabinet, and royal standard — and four 
 thousand prisoners fell into the hands of the enemy.. 
 Charles, followed closely by Cromwell, retreated by Leices- 
 ter, Ash by, and Lichfield, to JNTorth Wales. 
 
 Leicester and Taunton were soon reduced by the Parlia- 
 mentary forces ; and Bristol, into which Prince Eupert 
 had thrown himself, capitulated ; an act which so mortified' 
 the unhappy monarch that he is said to have instantly can- 
 celled the prince's commission in his service, and to have 
 ordered him to quit the island. During the course of these^ 
 operations Cromwell played an active and prominent part, 
 and with his horse alone completely defeated General Gor-- 
 ing, taking nearly the whole of his artillery and infantry. 
 Pursuing his success through "Wiltshire and Devonshire, he 
 cleared those counties almost entirely of the king's armed: 
 partisans ; and having joined himself to Pairfax, they 
 marched into Cornwall, defeating Lord Hopton at Torring- 
 ton by the way. The rout and capture of Lord Ashley 
 ended the war in that quarter. In the mean time the king 
 himself had retreated into Wales, and attempted to relieve 
 Chester, but in vain. He then crossed the country to^ 
 Newark, and thence proceeded to Oxford, where, finding 
 his situation daily growing worse, he is said to have written 
 that remarkable letter to Lord Digby, in which he declared^ 
 that ifJie could not live like a Mng he would die liJce a 0671-- 
 tleman. 
 
160 OLIVER CEOMWELL. 
 
 Some negotiation now took place towards a peace ; but 
 as time wore on, Charles found that fresh armies were 
 marching to surround his last place of refuge ; and seeing 
 that the object of his enemies was but to amuse him till 
 they had him completely in their power, he made his escape 
 from Oxford by night, and threw himself upon the gene- 
 rosity of the Scottish army, which was then besieging 
 iNewark. By his command Newark surrendered to the 
 forces of Scotland, and Charles was removed to Newcastle, 
 where negotiations were again resumed. But the English 
 Parliament and their adherents were now divided into two 
 parties, who mutually detested each other. The Presby- 
 terians had still great interest in the House of Commons, 
 but the Independents were more powerful in the army, and 
 perhaps in the nation. The first of these parties princi- 
 pally desired the- establishment of their own sect as the 
 predominant religion of the country, and the limitation of 
 the royal authority, but not its abolition. The second 
 class were republicans in every principle whether of eccle- 
 siastical or state government ; and at the head of this party 
 Cromwell had placed himself, well knowing that the sub- 
 version of every established form must precede the new 
 system destined to work out his own ambitious views. 
 
 The party who treated with the king at Newcastle were 
 the representatives of the Presbyterian part of the nation ; 
 and aware that in their hands the king would be safe, and 
 the government be speedily re-established, Cromwell and 
 his associates made use of every hypocritical art to induce 
 the unfortunate monarch to reject the unpalatable proposals 
 offered to him. They held out to him the prospect of their 
 own support, to reseat him on his throne upon milder con- 
 ditions ; and they succeeded in making Charles refuse to 
 accede to the Presbyterian propositions. 
 
 The negotiations were broken off between the monarch 
 and his people, but were commenced between the English 
 Parliament and the Scottish army. The most disgraceful 
 treaty in the annals of the world was entered into on the 
 occasion ; and Charles I. was delivered up to English com- 
 missioners, to imprisonment, to insult, and to death. 
 
 In the mean while Cromwell, who possessed, as has been 
 justly observed, all the qualities of a usurper, was proceed- 
 
OLITER CROMWELL. IGl 
 
 ing witli prosperous cunning in the course of his iniquitous 
 aggrandizement. Two thousand five hundred per annum 
 was settled on him and his family by the Parliament. The 
 fat pickings of confiscated estates swelled his coffers and 
 increased his power, and the thanks of the two Houses for 
 his manifold services, declared his merit and stamped his 
 pretensions. Notwithstanding these rewards and honours, 
 the Parliament feared the man they were in the act of ele- 
 vating ; but they feared him not enough, and only endea- 
 voured, after the . capture of the king, to diminish his 
 power in common with other of the principal officers of the 
 army. 
 
 This, however, was not so easily effected as had been 
 supposed ; and the first mention of drawing off a part of 
 the forces for Ireland, and re-modelling the rest, caused an 
 open revolt of the troops from the authority of the Parlia- 
 ment. Cromwell, Ireton, Skippon, and Pleetwood, each 
 of whom possessed considerable interest amongst the forces, 
 were the persons selected for a mission to Walden, in order 
 to calm the minds of the military and inquire into their 
 complaints. The persons sent, however, though they were 
 indeed, as the Parliament supposed, the only men who 
 could tranquillize the spirit of revolt which had manifested 
 itself, were also the very men by whom it was chiefly nou- 
 rished. A council of officers had been chosen, and a coun- 
 cil of agitators was selected from the army, each regiment 
 sending two representatives to this curious assembly, so 
 that the Commons and the aristocracy of the host were 
 arrayed against the other two great bodies of the nation. 
 
 Cromwell, the principal mover of all these measures, 
 had a game to play between the Parliament and the army, 
 which required all his own cunning, activity, hypocrisy, 
 and firmness, to conduct with success. "With the most 
 searching discrimination he selected his tools, and with the 
 most commanding genius, bent the talents and the weak- 
 ness, the love and the hate, of all by whom he was sur- 
 rounded, to his own purposes. The Parliament suspected 
 him, and yet were continually blinded by his art ; the army 
 loved him, and were the weak tools of his ambition ; the 
 deceitful Ireton was the slave of his greater cunning ; and 
 tho blood-thirsty Harrison the instrument of the deepest 
 . M 
 
1G2 OLIYER CEOMWELL. 
 
 crimes in the course of his usurpation. Eemonstranee 
 after remonstrance, petition following petition, crowded 
 the table of the House in which Cromwell sat, from the 
 army which he commanded ; and it is far more wonderful 
 that the most consummate hypocrisy could so long deceive, 
 than that it was at last detected. 
 
 Finding that his instigation of the refractory conduct of 
 the army could now be proved by evidence before the 
 House, Cromwell gave orders to a certain Cornet Joyce to 
 proceed to Holdenby, or Holmby Castle, where the king 
 was now in close confinement, and to bring him to the 
 head-quarters; fearful that the Parliament, by making 
 themselves master of the monarch's person, might unite 
 the greater part of the nation against him. "While this 
 was enacting, Cromwell, by a display of the most exquisite 
 art, continued to blind the Parliament for a day or two 
 longer. Accused of the very arts he was using, he knelt 
 down upon his knees before the Commons, called God to 
 witness his innocence, shed torrents of tears at the very 
 accusation, and ended by a speech so long, so complex, and 
 so vehement, that, though all were tired of it, and few 
 understood it, the House rejected the clearest evidence of 
 his guilt, and suffered him to depart in peace. 
 
 Cromwell immediately quitted London and repaired to 
 the head of the army at Newmarket ; the king was brought 
 thither on the same day. The council of agitators boldly 
 acknowledged the measure of his removal ; and the sincere, 
 weak Fairfax in vain endeavoured to ascertain the real 
 mover of these acts of insubordination, and to punish the 
 actual offender. 
 
 The unfortunate king now became the great object of 
 contention between the Presbyterians and Independents. 
 The army marched nearer to London, and eleven Presby- 
 terian members being accused of high treason, pusillani- 
 mously fled, leaving the two parties in the House much more 
 nearly balanced. Some tumults amongst the citizens also soon 
 gave the army an excuse for exercising still greater power. 
 It was declared that the Parliament was intimidated by the 
 people ; the party in the House calling themselves Inde- 
 pendents fled to the military head-quarters under an affected 
 iear ; and Cromwell, with his veteran battalions, marched 
 
OLIYER CEOMWELL. 163 
 
 into tlie city, and restored his friends to their seats with a 
 great accession of strength. 
 
 The efforts of the Presbyterians to win the king to their 
 interests, were greatly increased by the decay of their Par- 
 liamentary power ; and Charles, who was sometimes kept 
 at Windsor, sometimes at Hampton Court, soon found him- 
 self the object of solicitations on both parts ; and strove 
 hard to win from their discord what their union had 
 formerly snatched from him. 
 
 "Whether Cromwell was at all sincere in the offers which 
 he and Ireton, as the heads of the Independent faction, 
 made to the monarch, must ever remain in darkness. His 
 uniform hypocrisy and his evident ambition tend to evince 
 that his sole object w^as, by long protracted and artful nego- 
 tiations, to prevent the king from acceding to the proposals 
 of the Presbyterians till the Independents had confirmed 
 their power. But there is a story extant which imputes to 
 him less criminal views ; and the reverence and kindness 
 with which he treated Charles give some confirmation to 
 the idea of his having once leaned to moderation. The 
 demonstrations of a better feeling might be the effect of 
 art to lull the monarch into greater security ; and, to judge 
 fairly from the rest of Cromwell's character, the same 
 crooked policy guided that and many other of his actions at 
 the time of which I speak. However, it is certain that the 
 children of the unhappy sovereign were by Cromwell's 
 interference admitted to see their royal parent, and that the 
 consolation of their presence was extended to him as long as 
 it was possible under the circumstances of the case. 
 
 About this time, the faction calling themselves Levellers 
 sprang up in the army ; and if the aspiring Cromwell did 
 not promote their rise, for the purpose of carrying on to 
 their consummation the changes by which he had already 
 risen so high, accident certainly seconded policy in a very 
 extraordinary degree. 
 
 The passions of the army were stirred up to the highest 
 point, and directed against all the distinctions of rank and 
 station ; amongst which the royal authority, so long opposed 
 in fact, was now boldly rejected on principle ; the office of 
 king was declared useless, unjust, and evil, and the man who 
 had held it was lifted up to abhorrence in the eves of the 
 
 M 2 
 
164 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 people. Cromwell took care that intimation of these facta 
 should be given to the monarch ; and Charles, taught to 
 believe his life was in danger, fled to the Isle of Wight, and 
 trusted himself in the hands of Colonel Hammond, a crea- 
 ture of the aspiring usurper. 
 
 The moment he was gone, Cromwell easily quelled the 
 mutiny of the troops, and springing into the ranks of the 
 most refractory, seized the ringleader with his own hand. 
 Several of the most active were condemned, but only one 
 was shot, and subordination was soon restored. The end, 
 however, was by this time gained. The king had quitted 
 Hampton Court, where the love of the people had learned 
 to revive under the influence of their pity. Men had been 
 taught to contemplate the death of the monarch by the 
 hands of those who detained him, as no improbable event ; 
 and Cromwell well knew how soon familiarity with the 
 most revolting ideas, robs them of their horror by taking 
 from them the importance of novelty. 
 
 Whether Cromwell fashioned these events to his own 
 purpose, or moulded his own mind to take advantage of the 
 events, is now hid in those dark archives into which the 
 human mind is forbidden to pry. Certain it is, neverthe- 
 less, that almost immediately after the monarch's departure 
 the negotiations were broken off* abruptly between the king 
 and the military leaders. Those with the Parliament conti- 
 nued some time longer ; but at length, the sovereign having 
 refused to strip himself of all authority, by sanctioning the 
 bills sent to him as the foundation of a treaty, it was voted 
 by both Houses that no further negotiations should take 
 place. Ireton, a sincere republican, urged the Parliament 
 to throw off the royal authority altogether ; and Cromwell 
 himself so far laid down the mask as to support strongly the 
 arguments of his son-in-law, and to speak of Charles as a 
 man whose heart Grod had hardened. 
 
 Such tumults took place through the country, however^ 
 at these demonstrations of the designs of the Independents, 
 that a temporary abandonment of their schemes for the total 
 destruction of the monarchy was forced upon them. But 
 this did not satisfy the people. Now that it was too late, 
 they saw that the factions whom they had blindly supported 
 were hurrying them to deeds that they had never dreamed 
 
THE LONDON APPRENTICES ENCOUNTERING CROMVV KlJyS VriTERANS. 
 
OLIVEE CEOMWELL. 165 
 
 ^f in the outset ; and they strove in vain to restore 
 that fair order which, for the purpose of correcting some 
 irregularities, they had themselves cast into hopeless con- 
 fusion. 
 
 Eisings in favour of the king and the ancient constitution 
 of the land now took place throughout the whole country. 
 The London apprentices took up arms and dared to encoun- 
 ter the veterans of Cromwell. The men of Kent boldly op- 
 posed Fairfax at Maidstone, and suffered a defeat which was 
 almost a victory. The duke of Hamilton, at the head of a large 
 but ill-equipped and insubordinate army, entered England in 
 favour of the king, and Pembroke Castle raised the royal 
 standard, while the greater part of Wales rose to oppose 
 the armed oligarchy which had sprung up on the ruins of 
 the monarchy. 
 
 In a moment Cromwell found the whole fabric, which had 
 been cemented together by his artifice, his talents, his 
 labour, the concatenation of fortunate events, and the 
 subservient abilities of all those whom he had used as 
 tools, threatened with total destruction. But then it was 
 that his powerful and comprehensive mind roused all its 
 -energies to meet the dangers that gathered round him. 
 Wales, in which General Langhorne and Colonels Powel 
 and Poyer were in arms, gaining strength every day, first 
 called his attention, and he immediately marched upon 
 Pembroke, resolving, after the subjection of his first ene- 
 mies, to pursue his way northward, and attack Sir Marma- 
 duke Langdale on the Scottish border. The Eoyalists in 
 Wales retired before him, and threw themselves into Pem- 
 broke, which Cromwell immediately attempted to storm. 
 He met, however, a more determined resistance than he had 
 expected ; his troops were repulsed, and several weeks were 
 consumed in the siege before the castle could be reduced. 
 4Dromwell now began a system of military execution to 
 which he had shown himself averse in the commencement 
 of the civil war. Colonel Poyer, the governor of Pembroke, 
 was forced to draw lots with the other principal officers, 
 and the fate falling on himself he was put to death by the 
 victors. 
 
 Without loss of time the conqueror proceeded to oppose 
 ithe progress of Sir Marmaduke Langdale, who now, sup- 
 
166 OLIVEB CEOMWELL. 
 
 ported by the duke of Hamilton and the Scotch forces, was^ 
 advancing towards Lancashire. The E-oyalist army was 
 marching boldly on without information of their enemies' 
 approach, Sir Marmaduke Langdale leading the advance, 
 when, near Preston, the flank of that officer's division was 
 suddenly attacked by Cromwell, who soon compelled his 
 forces to retire in confusion. The Scots were next attacked 
 in Preston, and, after eiFecting one or two gallant charges 
 led by the duke of Hamilton in person, were put to flight. 
 Sharply pursued by Cromwell, they each day fell into 
 greater disorder as they retreated towards the border, in 
 some places turned their arms against each other, and 
 finally dispersed. 
 
 It is not possible here to follow all the insurrections 
 which now broke out in diflerent parts of the country. 
 Colchester held out long in the royal cause, and the young 
 prince of Wales commanded a considerable navy at sea. 
 But a want of unity of purpose defeated all the eflbrts 
 of the king's adherents ; and Colchester surrendered to 
 Pairfax, while Cromwell pursued his way to Edinburgh. 
 
 The duke of Argyle, and all the enemies of the monarchy, 
 had already risen in Scotland to counteract the efforts of 
 the duke of Hamilton ; so that the task of subduing th^t 
 countr}^ was comparatively easy to Cromwell, who, after 
 having concerted measures with the more fanatical part of 
 the nation for raising troops and keeping down revolt, 
 returned to England in triumph. 
 
 Though his progress had been a course of victories, it had 
 not been altogether a course of happiness, for in this expedi- 
 tion he lost his eldest son, who was killed in one of the 
 charges at Preston. The Parliament also, alarmed at the 
 manifestations of public feeling in favour of the king, and 
 uninfluenced by the presence of the army, rescinded their 
 former vote, that no further addresses should be offered, and; 
 entered into fresh negotiations with Charles at Newport. 
 These were soon terminated ; Cromwell marched on tow^ards 
 London ; petitions and remonstrances were poured in upon 
 the Parliament, demanding that justice should be done 
 upon the king ; several regiments took possession of the 
 city ; and the House of Commons, finding themselves driven 
 to extremity, resolved to support the monarch they had 
 
OLTTER CROMWELL. 1G7 
 
 destroyed, and voted that the nogotiations of Newport were 
 a sufficient basis for settling the state of the nation. Their 
 power, however, was now gone ; and though Cromwell him- 
 self had not yet reached London, his intention and that of 
 the army were so well known, that Colonel Pride, on his 
 own authority, marched down two regiments to the House 
 of Commons, arrested forty-one of the members as they 
 came down, turned back one hundred and sixty more, and 
 only permitted a hundred and fifty to take their seats, who 
 were of course the mere creatures of the Independent 
 faction. 
 
 I see no reason for believing that this act was known to 
 Cromwell, though it was ..exactly what he desired, and one 
 which he would beyond doubt have performed himself, if 
 it had not been done before his arrival. 
 
 The army had now resolved on the king's death ; the 
 Parliament were but instruments in their hands. On the 
 thirtieth of November Charles had been conveyed from the 
 Isle of Wight to Hurst Castle, on the coast of Hampshire ; 
 and in the middle of December the victim was brought by 
 Colonel Harrison to Windsor, with the express purpose of 
 proceeding to trial. Immense exertions were made to save 
 him. Poreign countries interfered, private friends solicited, 
 Cromwell's family beseeched him to pause in his sanguinary 
 course, and the people murmured loudly. But to all Crom- 
 well opposed the same cool determination and the same 
 consummate art. Whenever he found that his tools were 
 hurrying forward too rapidly, he affected to be reluctant, he 
 wept, he prayed, he canted, he blamed their over zeal, and 
 called on God to direct him and them. Whenever his 
 friends or his family applied to him to spare the unhappy 
 monarch, he laid the blame upon others, and appealed to his 
 hypocritical professions as proofs of his own intentions. 
 But if any one paused or lingered in the design, none 
 became so violent as Cromwell ; and he used every means 
 of invective and abuse to drive his hearers to his purpose. 
 Strange it is, that though a thousand times a day Cromwell 
 betrayed his own hypocrisy, yet still he made it answer his 
 own designs, and command the exertions of others. In their 
 communion with him men saw that they were deceived, and 
 hated and contemned their deceiver; but the influence of 
 
168 OLIYER CROMWELL. 
 
 his dark and inscrutable mind seemed to overawe them 
 against their very reason ; and the immensity of its un- 
 compromising baseness gave a grandeur even to his 
 hypocrisy. 
 
 It is not my purpose to go through all the melancholy 
 scenes of the king's trial with any minuteness of detail. A 
 committee of the House of Commons was appointed to dis- 
 cover the best means of proceeding against the monarch ; 
 and a high court of justice, as it was called, was determined 
 upon, to consist of a hundred and fifty members. Only 
 seventy-nine, however, of the commissioners actually pro- 
 ceeded to judge their king. Fourteen days were spent in 
 preparations; and on the 20th of January Charles was 
 brought before the court, where, with unshaken dignity, he 
 refused to acknowledge their jurisdiction, and to plead 
 before so illegal an assembly. After having been three 
 times remanded, and having three several days refused to 
 plead, he was again conducted to Westminster-hall, and 
 received sentence of death, which he heard with the same 
 dignity that he had maintained throughout. 
 
 The conduct of Cromwell, who of course sat amongst the 
 judges, was, during the whole of this sad trial, most singular, 
 and has been considered unaccountable. It is said that, 
 while consulting with the commissioners in the Painted 
 Chamber, news was brought that the king was landing at 
 the stairs within sight, in order to undergo his trial. 
 Cromwell with several others ran to the window, to view 
 the arrival of his victim. Human nature for a moment 
 was too strong for ambition, and he returned as pale as 
 death. Through the course of the trial, however, though 
 he maintained his gravity in the. court, he displayed in each 
 moment of recess a childish jocularity, which has been 
 regarded as one of the many masks with which from time 
 to time he covered his real feelings and designs. Neverthe- 
 less, it might be the effect of agitation, for no one can doubt 
 that, deeply interested in the cause before him, and knowing 
 that for his own personal ambition, though by the instru- 
 mentality of others, he was murdering his king, Cromwell's 
 . strong nerves must have been greatly shaken during the 
 seven long days which the assassination took in preparation. 
 
 In the trial itself Cromwell did not at all put himself 
 
OLIVEE CEOMWELL. 169 
 
 forward, but let the blame of the most active part fall upon 
 others ; but with regard to the execution, the aspiring 
 general took care himself that no impediment should arrest 
 that consummation of the civil war. The warrant for the 
 monarch's execution was signed by only fifty-nine of the 
 commissioners, and the name of Cromwell was the third 
 upon the roll. We have reason to believe also that the 
 absolute order for his execution was signed by Cromwell 
 and Hacker alone, on the refusal of Colonel Hunks to take 
 it upon himself. At the actual moment of the monarch's 
 death, Cromwell and his associates were engaged in prayer ; 
 or, as it should rather be called, in blasphemy ; and it has 
 been asserted by Noble that the usurper opened the coffin 
 of the dead monarch with the sword of one of the soldiers, 
 and contemplated the body from which he had so violently 
 expelled the spirit. No absolute proof of this fact, that I 
 know of, exists ; but it is by no means irreconcilable with 
 the character of the man to whom it is attributed. 
 
 The first acts of the House of Commons, after putting to' 
 death the monarch, were to abolish monarchy ; to vote the 
 acknowledgment of Charles, the son of the murdered sove- 
 reign, to be high treason ; to lay aside the House of Peers 
 as useless ; and to establish a democratic form of government 
 on the ruins of the former constitution. 
 
 Nevertheless, though the old aristocracy was done away, 
 a new one of course supplied its place ; and for the execu- 
 tive government of the country a council of state was 
 appointed, consisting of forty-one members, who acted, in 
 fact, as commissioners for exercising the functions of the 
 kingly office. To reconcile the institution of such a council 
 with the theories of the republicans, and to habituate their 
 mind to its existence, it was declared to be only temporary. 
 But still this did not satisfy the levellers. A strong spirit 
 of mutiny showed itself in the army, several regiments 
 refused to march without the payment of their arrears, and 
 a vigorous remonstrance was presented to Parliament on 
 behalf of the " poor army." 
 
 Cromwell, who had formerly been the eager but secret 
 instigator of all the contempt and insubordination which 
 the army had displayed towards the Parliament, felt the 
 benefit of his concealment now that, as the real chief of the 
 
170 OLITEB CEOMWELL. 
 
 council of state, tlie mutiny of his troops impugned his own 
 power. Several instances of severity only served to increase 
 the spirit of disaffection, and Cromwell and Eairfax took the 
 field against a considerable body of cavalry who remained 
 in open revolt. "When the two forces were within a small 
 distance of each other, Cromwell had recourse to his never- 
 failing hypocrisy to spare the effusion of blood on either 
 side, and assure the victory to himself. He demanded a 
 parley with the mutineers, appeared to lend an attentive 
 ear to their grievances, lulled them into security by nego- 
 tiation, and surprised them all at night in the village where 
 they had taken up their quarters. A few were executed, 
 and the rest dispersed. Yet still the same feelings of anger 
 and turbulence prevailed, and, having received an individual 
 direction, were poured bitterly upon the heads of Cromwell 
 and Ireton. 
 
 About the same time, also, the duke of Hamilton, the 
 earl of Holland, and Lord Capel were brought to trial and 
 beheaded ; an act of cruelty in no degree necessary to the 
 state, and which brought an increase of odium upon those 
 who had been its chief instigators. 
 
 Einding himself growing unpopular with even the" army,, 
 which he intended to be the chief instrument in the accom-^ 
 plishment of his future designs, and seeing no other means 
 than active and successful warfare of regaining his great 
 influence, Cromwell prompted the council of state to 
 demand of the Parliament that he should be appointed to 
 the chief command in Ireland, which then, as now, was torn 
 to pieces by greedy factions and continual strife. The 
 native Irish, struggling to recover their lost rights, the 
 fierce republicans of the parliamentary party, and the last 
 determined adherents of royalty, made that unfortunate 
 island their common battle-field. Blood already flowed like- 
 water through the land, and Cromwell soon came to deluge- 
 it still more deeply in human gore. 
 
 On being informed by the Parliament that he was; 
 appointed to the chief command in Ireland, Cromwell 
 affected surprise and assumed reluctance ; but he was soon 
 prevailed upon to undertake the task ; and with the com- 
 mission of general-in-chief, and the title of lord-lieutenant, 
 twelve thousand veteran troops, and a w^ell-stored treasury, 
 
OLIYEE CROMWELL. 171 
 
 he set off for his new field of operations in the beginning of 
 August, 1649. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Scotland had remained a separate 
 kingdom, and King Charles II. had been proclaimed in 
 Edinburgh almost immediately after his father's death. 
 But the Presbyterians of that country shackled their ac- 
 knowledgment of the young monarch with so many 
 unworthy conditions, that Charles hesitated long before he 
 would accept them; and during this hesitation Cromwell 
 had sufficient time to execute the greater part of his 
 schemes against Ireland. 
 
 On his arrival in Dublin, he found that General Monk 
 had concluded a peace with the famous CNeal ; so that 
 he could direct the whole of his efforts against the Koyalists^ 
 under the earl of Ormond. These troops had principally 
 left the open country, and had dispersed themselves in 
 different strong places, against which Cromwell successively 
 turned his arms. The first city attacked was Drogheda^ 
 which was garrisoned by three thousand steady Eoyalists, 
 under Sir Arthur Ashton. As- soon as a breach was prac- 
 ticable, the fanatics rushed forward to storm; but were 
 met with intrepidity equal to their own enthusiasm, and 
 were completely repulsed. A second assault proved more 
 successful. A loyalist officer, who commanded in one of 
 the entrenchments raised within the breach, was shot as the 
 Parliamentary forces advanced. His troops wavered, the 
 ^Republicans offered them quarter, and during the hesitation 
 which followed this proposal, poured in and made them- 
 selves masters of the place. 
 
 All the horrors of a successful assault were now inflicted^ 
 Cromwell himself, instead of endeavouring to stay the 
 bloodshed which always followed such an event, gave orders 
 to show no mercy. Some of the unfortunate garrison took 
 refuge in a strong post called the Mill Mount, which offered 
 them little security. The position was almost immediately 
 forced; and Sir Arthur Ashton, with all the officers and 
 men which it contained, was put to death. Another party 
 took possession .of the steeple of St. Peter's Church, and 
 held out for some time ; but, as the most summary way of 
 destroying them, the blood-thirsty general ordered the 
 church to be fired, which was accordingly done. The rest, 
 
172 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 who had thrown themselves into two strong towers, which 
 threatened a more protracted resistance than their assailants 
 €Ould aftbrd to encounter, obtained somewhat more favour- 
 able terms. The men were decimated, and the survivors 
 transported to Barbadoes ; but the officers, as well as all 
 the Catholic priests who could be discovered, were butchered 
 in cold blood. Nor does this seem to have been the whole 
 amount of blood and guilt chargeable to Cromwell on the 
 •capture of Drogheda. For five days the slaughter was 
 more or less continued, and it appears that a vast number 
 of the peaceable inhabitants were slain at the very altars, to 
 which they clung for protection. 
 
 The ferocity of soldiers, excited almost to madness by the 
 fierce struggle of an assault, no officer can immediately 
 restrain ; but he who suffers the licence of such a scene to 
 proceed for one moment after he can arrest its progress — 
 and far more, still, he who encourages the merciless dispo- 
 sition of his troops, is a murderer and a villain. 'No excuse 
 is admissible, for, even were the (Question doubtful, whether 
 stern severity or firmness combined with lenity towards a 
 country in revolt be the most likely to reduce it to subjec- 
 tion (of which, however, there can be no doubt), the natural 
 ■disposition of each man would be shown in lii s decision. If 
 he were a cruel tyrant he would butcher, like Cromwell ; if 
 he were a generous hero he would spare, like Henry Quatre. 
 Nor had Cromwell any personal excuse. Had he before 
 overcome these troops and again found them in arms ; had 
 they violated any duty, or broken any engagement towards 
 him, he might have pleaded justice and example as a pallia- 
 tion for rigour ; but no such facts existed ; the people he 
 slaughtered were opposed to him in party and religion, and 
 such was his only motive to his most awful crime. 
 
 Erom Drogheda he proceeded to Wexford, of which he 
 obtained possession by the treachery of one of the deputies 
 sent to treat for its capitulation. While the negotiation 
 was going on, some of the Parliamentary troops were intro- 
 duced into the castle ; their appearance spread consterna- 
 tion through the garrison ; the walls were abandoned, and 
 the republicans rushing in, the same scenes of blood and 
 cruelty, which had disgraced the capture of Drogheda were 
 ;acted over again, with many terrible aggravations, in the 
 
OLITEE CROMWELL. 173- 
 
 streets of Wexford. The unarmed inhabitants and the 
 military were confounded in one general slaughter ; neither 
 sex nor age was spared ; and three hundred women were 
 murdered clinging to the market-cross. 
 
 It would be tedious and painful to follow Cromwell 
 through the whole of his two campaigns in Ireland, and to 
 carry him from siege to siege. Suffice it, that with astonish- 
 ing speed he subdued almost the whole of Munster. Eoss, 
 Duncannon, Carrick, were taken before the close of 1649, 
 as well as Toughall, Cork, Kinsale, and Bandon Eridge. 
 Goran, Kilkenny, and Clonmell, fell in the early part of 
 1650; and the greater part of Ireland being reduced to 
 submission, Cromwell left the command to his son-in-law, 
 Ireton, and returned to England, whither he was called by 
 affairs of still greater import. 
 
 During his absence the negotiations between Charles II. 
 and the Scotch Commissioners were brought to a conclusion 
 at Breda ; and it became evident that the nation who had 
 betrayed the father were about to take arms in support of 
 the son. The young monarch had not yet sailed for the 
 only part of his hereditary dominions which acknowledged 
 him, when Cromwell returned to oppose him in person. 
 
 Through the whole of his proceedings in Ireland, Crom- 
 well had maintained a close correspondence with the Parlia- 
 ment ; and while, in fanatical ravings, he communicated to 
 the House of Commons the success he had acquired by 
 skill, sagacity, and courage, he himself learned all that was 
 passing in England, and prepared to interpose whenever he 
 might find his presence necessary. 
 
 The proclamation of Charles 11. as king of England, Scot- 
 land, Erance, and Ireland, and the treaty between him and 
 the Scottish Parliament, showed that the moment for action 
 was now come ; and Cromwell, who had been often invited 
 back by the Commons, returned full of victory and success. 
 Borne upon the fickle tide of popular applause, which at 
 this period flowed full in his favour, the triumphant general 
 approached London ; and after meeting deputations from 
 the officers and the Parliament, which came as far as 
 Hounslow to greet him, he entered the capital amidst 
 the discharge of ordnance and the acclamations of the 
 multitude. 
 
171' OLIVEK CEOMWELL. 
 
 [Fairfax's attachment to the Presbyterian interest, his 
 opposition to the more violent measures which had been 
 pursued against royalty, and his unity of feeling with the 
 Scots, taught the Parliament to doubt his firmness in con- 
 ducting the war about to be declared against that nation ; 
 and induced them to determine upon transferring the com- 
 mand to Cromwell. 
 
 Whether it was proposed entirely to supersede him, or 
 to detain him in London as general-in-chief, while Crom- 
 well led the army to the field, can hardly be told ; but Fair- 
 fax spared the Parliament all trouble on the subject, by 
 voluntarily resigning his command when he heard of the 
 arrival of the young monarch in Scotland, and of the uni- 
 versal joy with which he had been received. The council 
 of state pressed him, it appears, to retain his command; 
 and Cromwell himself accompanied the deputation charged 
 with the message to that effect. But, as most of the party 
 were beyond doubt aware, the determination of Fairfax was 
 now fixed ; and nothing which was brought forward could 
 shake it. The Parliament nevertheless honoured and 
 rewarded him for his former services ; and while the com- 
 mission of captain-general was made out for Cromwell, 
 Fairfax, the best intentioned, but the weakest of the Com- 
 monwealth officers, retired from the service to the bosom 
 of his family. 
 
 Cromwell, now resolved to carry the war into the heart 
 of Scotland, made his preparations with activity, and was 
 in the field before July. The campaign began with mani- 
 festoes on both sides, equally filled with falsehood and 
 hypocrisy. But in the meanwhile, Cromwell advanced 
 rapidly to the border ; and on their part, the Scots spread 
 a report throughout the country, that the English general 
 was about to act the same cruelties in his present warfare, 
 which he had displayed in Ireland, with various additions, 
 which the imagination of the people was left to improve 
 and magnify. Cromwell, though he attempted to counter- 
 act these reports, lost no time by the way ; but crossing 
 the Tweed at Berwick, he advanced rapidly upon Edin- 
 burgh. At Musselburgh, however, he halted, finding 
 that the Scottish general, Leslie, had taken up so strong a 
 position that it was impossible to assail it with success; and 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 175 
 
 'even in reconnoitring it, a part of his forces \vere attacked 
 and suffered considerably in their retreat. 
 
 Prom Musselburgh, after another severe skirmish, 
 Cromwell retreated to Dunbar, hoping that Leslie would 
 follow and give him battle ; but that general, with cautious 
 wisdom, which, had he persevered in it, would have 
 destroyed the English forces, contented himself with cut- 
 ting off his enemy's supplies, preventing his advance, and 
 harassing his retreat ; at the same time securing to himself, 
 with infinite skill, all those impregnable positions which 
 the country everywhere affords. The whole of August 
 was thus consumed in ineffectual manoeuvres on the part of 
 Cromwell, and skilful opposition on the side of the Scots. 
 In the meanwhile the English army dwindled away under 
 <disease and scarcity ; and their general at length began to 
 think of retiring, with the weakened and harassed remains 
 of his troops, towards their native country. The Scottish 
 forces, now perceiving their superiority, followed closely on 
 their retreating foes ; and pressed so hard upon the English, 
 that Cromwell in the hurry and confusion of his march suf- 
 fered himself to be hemmed in near Dunbar, in a situation 
 from which there was no escape. 
 
 Swamps and marshes impeded his progress on one side ; 
 the sea shut him in on the other ; Leslie occupied a high 
 hill on the land side ; and the only pass, by fording a river 
 flanked by a steep bank, was already in possession of the 
 Scots. The deliberations that followed are very differently 
 stated. It appears certain, however, that it was at one 
 time proposed that the infantry should be sent off by sea, 
 and that the cavalry should then attempt to force its way 
 through the enemy. Both Lambert and Monk, who were 
 then with Cromwell's army, strongly opposed this sugges- 
 tion ; and one or the other of these two proved to the 
 council of war, that while on the one hand such a measure 
 must necessarily produce immense and incalculable loss and 
 danger, on the other hand, the Scottish forces might be 
 attacked with less disadvantage than had been imagined. 
 
 Cromwell probably had before come to the same conclu- 
 sion, and it was therefore determined that a battle should 
 be risked. Notwithstanding an order to attack at break of 
 day, the action did not begin till near six o'clock, but this 
 
176 OLIVEE CEOMWELIi. 
 
 proved no disadvantage, for Leslie, overpowered by the 
 fanatics of his own party, yielded his better opinion, aban- 
 doned in some degree -the advantageous ground he pos- 
 sessed, and descended from the hill to meet the enemy. 
 When Cromwell first beheld them move, he is said to 
 have exclaimed, " The Lord has delivered them into my 
 hand!" 
 
 After a severe struggle, in which the first attack of the 
 English was repelled, Cromwell's own regiment of infantry 
 drove all before them, at the point of the pike. The 
 cavalry followed, and Cromwell himself, marching on a& 
 they gained ground, remarking the sun, which had pre- 
 viously been hidden by a mist, shine out gloriously over 
 the sea, raised his hand, exclaiming aloud, " Let Grod arise, 
 and let His enemies be scattered !'* Enthusiasm was added 
 instantly to courage in the minds of his soldiers ; confi- 
 dence gave them victory ; the right wing of the enemy were 
 driven in confusion on their centre, and all became flight 
 and disarray. A tremendous slaughter of the fugitives 
 then took place ; and about eight thousand were made pri- 
 soners. Cromwell on this occasion displayed greater 
 humanity than had been lately his wont. An immense 
 number of the captives were liberated, and the inhabitants 
 of the neighbouring country were called to carry away and 
 tend the wounded. The loss on either part it is impossible 
 to ascertain, as the accounts rendered by Cromwell, from 
 their evident absurdity, are unworthy of a moment's 
 credit. 
 
 "While divisions of all kinds spread amongst the Scottish 
 people ; and whilst the more fanatical ministers of the Pres- 
 byterian church, ascribing their defeat to ungodliness and 
 not to folly, purged their army, as they expressed it, of all 
 the best soldiers it contained, Cromwell marched on to 
 Edinburgh, which admitted his forces without resistance, 
 though the Castle still held out. He thence marched for 
 Stirling, where the remnant of Leslie's forces had re-assem- 
 bled, and had been joined by various other bodies of troops, 
 which rendered their numbers even formidable, while their 
 position was much more so. Finding it hopeless to attack 
 them, the English general retreated first to Linlithgow, 
 and afterwards made a movement upon Glasgow, attempting, 
 
OLIVER CEOMWELL. 177 
 
 wherever he went, to win the affections of the people, and 
 to bring over to his side, one at least of the many parties 
 into which Scotland was then divided. 
 
 He then returned to Edinburgh, and immediately began 
 the siege of the Castle, against which he proceeded with 
 great vigour, maintaining, at the same time, a long and 
 eager theological discussion with some of the Presbyterian 
 <3lergy within the walls. Whether or not, under the dis- 
 guise, he carried on a more fruitful correspondence with 
 Dundas, the governor of the Castle, it is difficult now to 
 determine. Two things however are certain : — in the first 
 place, that Dundas made a bold and steady resistance for 
 some time ; and in the next, that he surrendered while the 
 place was still capable of long and fearless defence. This 
 last-named fact has brought a charge of treachery upon the 
 governor ; but it is to be remembered that many circum- 
 stances might have led him to the conduct he pursued, 
 without bribery on the one part, or treason on the other. 
 The increasing divisions amongst the people and rulers of 
 Scotland; the uncertainty of relief; the dangers and incon- 
 veniences to which the capital city was exposed during the 
 siege of its citadel ; and the offer of the most advantageous 
 terms of capitulation ; might each and all act in bringing 
 Dundas to the determination which he adopted, after having 
 sustained a siege of many weeks. 
 
 The conditions that he made for himself and his garrison 
 were the most advantageous it is possible to conceive on the 
 occasion of a surrender ; and the Castle being delivered to 
 Cromwell, the Scottish forces marched out and crossed the 
 Prith of Forth into Fife. 
 
 Cromwell spent the winter following in Edinburgh, 
 endeavouring to conciliate the people, and regulating the 
 military government of the country as far as it had been 
 conquered. Early in the spring, however, he was seized 
 with a severe intermittent fever, which incapacitated him 
 greatly for public affiirs, and even threatened his life. In 
 the mean while Charles II. made every effort to increase his 
 army and authority, by persuading the fanatics by whom he 
 was surrounded, to admit into the service, all those steady 
 Ivoyalists who had previously borne arms in his own defence 
 or that of his father, without the permission of the Kirk. 
 
178 OLIVEE CEOMWELL. 
 
 An immensity of hypocrisy was displayed on this subject? 
 by all parties — the Scottish clergy demanding from the old 
 Cavaliers professions of repentance and amendment which 
 they knew would be false ; and the Cavaliers making pro- 
 testations they did not feel, and taking oaths they had not 
 the slightest intention to keep. ]N evertheless, by this 
 means the ranks of the royal army were considerably 
 swelled ; and much greater power in its councils was given 
 to Charles himself. The sickness of Cromwell gave full 
 time for completing every preparation ; and having been 
 solemnly crowned at Scone, the young king took up his 
 position at Torwood, resolved to act on the defensive and 
 cut off all approach to Stirling. Early in July Cromwell 
 was once more enabled to resume active operations, and 
 made various movements to draw his enemy from the strong 
 position he had assumed. Por this purpose he marched 
 towards Lanarkshire ; but Leslie, who in fact commanded 
 the Eoyalist army, though the name remained with Charles, 
 threw himself into the pass of Kilsyth, and obstructed his 
 progress in that direction. Cromwell then returned to his 
 former ground, and Leslie resumed a defencible post near 
 Stirling. The efforts of the English general were now 
 turned to the opposite side of the Eorth, and after sending 
 over a detachment to secure his landing, he led the rest of 
 the troops into Eife, and directed his course towards Perth. 
 General Holburne who was detached from the royal army 
 to oppose his progress, was defeated with great loss, and 
 Perth surrendered almost immediately. 
 
 "Wearied with the burthensome fanaticism of the Scots, 
 Charles gladly saw before him the means of penetrating 
 into England, where he hoped to find more affection as well 
 as reverence, and to meet with fewer insults and greater 
 zeal, if not with such powerful support. 
 
 No sooner therefore did he see Cromwell proceed so far 
 to the north, and leave the road to England open behind 
 him, than, breaking up his camp, Charles instantly marched 
 for Carlisle. As he advanced, however, many of the Scots 
 fell from him ; and the levies in England were not nearly 
 so favourable as he had anticipated. The Scots threw every 
 obstacle in the way of success. None were admitted ta 
 
OLIVEK CEOMWELL. 179 
 
 join their ranks who would not take the covenant ; and the 
 same fanatic enthusiasm amongst his followers, which had 
 raised Cromwell to the highest pitch of fortune, helped to 
 cast away the best opportunities of his unfortunate oppo- 
 nent. 
 
 Notwithstanding these difficulties Charles directed his 
 march with very little resistance till he arrived at Wor- 
 cester, where he was proclaimed king of Great Britain. 
 Here a few of the old cavaliers joined him ; but want of 
 time and preparation combined with other causes to make 
 their arrival slow, and at the same time the efforts of the 
 Parliament were immense and successful. Leaving Monk 
 to command in Scotland, Cromwell hastened with the steps 
 of a giant to follow the track of the king ; and, though the 
 troops he brought with him were small in number, tlie 
 activity of the Parliament had been so great that at Wor- 
 cester, where he overtook the Scottish army, he found him- 
 self at the head of thirty thousand men. The two forces lay 
 in presence of each other several days, during which the 
 possession of the passages over the Severn and the Team 
 was hotly contended for by parties from both. 
 
 At length Cromwell seems to have resolved on attacking 
 the royal army on two points, and G-eneral Fleetwood was 
 directed to force his way over the Team, while Cromwell 
 himself attempted to pass the Severn, for which purpose it 
 was necessary to throw across a bridge of boats. These 
 operations were opposed on both points with the most 
 determined courage. The Scots for long held Fleetwood 
 at bay, notwithstanding the great superiority of his numbers, 
 disputing every inch of ground. At the same time Charles 
 himself opposed the progress of Cromwell, and obtained 
 some temporar)'- success in the first part of the action ; but 
 neglecting to make use of his cavalry, which appears to 
 have been left within the town, he was compelled to aban- 
 don the field by the veteran reserve which Cromwell brought 
 up to support the Parliamentary levies. The battle conti- 
 nued till nightfall ; and its event crushed the royal party 
 for the time. Three thousand of the loyalists fell on 
 the field of battle, and ten thousand are said to have been 
 taken. Charles himself made his escape to France, but the 
 
 ^ 2 
 
180 OLITER CROMWELL. 
 
 particulars of his dangers and sufferings are too well known 
 to need recapitulation.* 
 
 Cromwell returned in triumph towards London, and 
 every mark of gratitude and admiration was shown him 
 by the Parliament. Commissioners were sent to meet him 
 at Aylesbury, and the House of Commons, with all the high 
 officers of state, came . out to receive him at Acton. Nor 
 were honours alone the reward of his services. JFresh 
 grants of land and money increased his revenues and his 
 power ; and, possessed of almost kingly authority, he began 
 to affect kingly state. The companions of his rise and 
 the followers of his fortunes found a barrier growing up 
 insensibly between them and their former comrade ; and 
 the royal party being now effectually crushed, Cromwell 
 sought to raise himself above his equals to the place from 
 whence he had hurled down those originally above liim. 
 The palaces of a hundred kings became the habitual dwell- 
 ings of the successful soldier; pomp and glitter attended 
 his footsteps ; and though still plain in his own appearance, 
 and simple in his habits, he surrounded himself with the 
 splendour which captivates, after having acquired the power 
 which commands. 
 
 The ends whicb he proposed to work out by the Parlia- 
 ment were now accomplished ; and he began to weary of 
 the instrument with which he had wrought them. His 
 whole design became, therefore, to lay aside that body as 
 soon as possible ; and this intention became so evident that 
 there were few who did not suspect or discover something 
 of the ambitious schemes which floated in his mind. 
 
 In regard to the army his views and his conduct were 
 very different. The only firm basis of his power had been its 
 
 * Of the prisoners taken at Worcester, the more influential were 
 tried and executed. Some, if they did not merit their fate, at least 
 liad reason to expect it from the existing laws, and the warning 
 of former events : but some also sufi:ered in the face of justice, law, 
 and custom. In regard to the private soldiers, the infamous practice 
 which Cromwell had followed in Ireland, was repeated here as it had 
 been at Dunbar. An immense number were sold as slaves to the 
 colonies. Where the price of this human merchandise went, I have 
 not been able to discover ; but I find no proof that Cromwell added to 
 the infamy of introducing the custom, the baseness of appropriating 
 4,he gain. 
 
OIIVEK CROMWELL. 181 
 
 affection, and as soon as he had determined upon pursuing 
 a course of individual aggrandizement, which he knew 
 would be opposed by such of its members as had most con- 
 tributed to his first rise, he applied himself calmly and 
 diligently to remove them from their posts, and to supply 
 their places with those less scrupulous men, with whom war 
 was more a trade, who were contented to be soldiers with- 
 out affecting to be saints, and who were good officers with- 
 out being either preachers or politicians. The organization 
 of the different corps also he greatly changed, and took 
 good care that the same spirit of insubordination with which 
 he had ruled the Parliament should not be opposed to him- 
 self. All this was done slowly and quietly, and was begun 
 long before his invasion of Scotland, so that by the time the 
 dispersion of the king's forces had taken place at "Worces- 
 ter, the army was a much more governable machine than it 
 had been since the commencement of the civil war. 
 
 It is not unworthy of remark in this place, that while 
 Cromwell was all this time working by the basest of human 
 means for the gratification of the most selfish of human 
 passions, the tone of his religious enthusiasm grew of a 
 stronger and more vehement character, not only in appear- 
 ance, it would seem, but in reality. Doubtless, as he felt 
 himself obliged to rely more and more upon the Indepen- 
 dents, even while he violated many of their political principles, 
 he found himself called upon to court their favour in other 
 points, by a stronger display of attachment to their religious 
 follies. Yet it is beyond all question, that, in many instances, 
 Cromwell was himself the dupe of his own hypocrisy ; that, 
 governed himself by a dark and hypochondriacal fanaticism, 
 he made it the means of governing others ; and that by 
 affecting more of the frenzied enthusiasm of the times than 
 he felt, for the purpose of deceiving others, he increased 
 and excited that which he really did feel himself. 
 
 One of the first steps of Cromwell after having returned 
 to London w^as to remind the Parliament of a very unpleas- 
 ant topic of discussion which had been often spoken of but 
 long delayed, namely their own dissolution. In this, as 
 well as in the proposal of a general amnesty, he was success- 
 ful, notwithstanding a strong opposition ; and the House of 
 Commons voted that the period of their farther sitting 
 
1S2 OLITER CEOMWELL. 
 
 sliould be confined to three years. His immense increase 
 of power, his success on the present occasion, and all the 
 honours and distinctions he had received since the battle of 
 Worcester, seem to have led Cromwell to the belief that 
 the moment was arrived in which he could safely assume the 
 sovereign power. Eut cautious in this, as in all things, 
 he proposed several questions to a general meeting of the 
 most influential persons in the state and the army, regard- 
 ing the future government of the country, which he doubted 
 not would soon in discussion display the views and feelings 
 of all parties. Many present boldly declared their opinion 
 in favour of a mixed form of government, in which the 
 power of the monarch should be checked by a House of 
 Peers and Commons : and Cromwell announced his own 
 sentiments on the same side. Eut when it came to be 
 considered to whom the throne thus limited could be 
 offered, Charles II., the duke of York, the duke of Glou- 
 cester were mentioned ; but Cromwell himself seemed never 
 to enter the minds of his companions. Einding that much 
 must intervene before his purpose could be accomplished, 
 Cromwell, disappointed but undismayed, pursued his course 
 and bent his efforts against the Parliament. 
 
 That body easily seeing that, w-hatever might be the ulte- 
 rior views of the lord-general, the diminution of their 
 power was his present object, resolved to counteract his 
 design by undermining his own. Por this purpose they 
 foolishly directed their most open attempts against the 
 army ; and as an initiative measure voted the reduction of 
 its members. It w^as Cromwell's fate, both in war and in 
 policy, to see many of his most difficult undertakings accom- 
 plished by the folly of his opponents ; and never did this 
 appear more strongly than in the conduct of the Parlia- 
 ment. A spirit of hostility was immediately generated 
 towards it in the ranks of the army; and, without the 
 slightest apparent effort on the part of Cromwell, the council 
 of war deputed six officers to present a humble petition and 
 remonstrance at the bar of the House of Commons, praying 
 for the arrears due to the army, and boldly insulting the 
 deliberative assembly of the nation, by reproach and 
 advice. 
 
 The Parliament were highly indignant at this calm affront ; 
 
OLIVER CEOMWELL. 183 
 
 and finding in some degree their error, proceeded to tamper 
 with several of the lord-general's officers, endeavouring to 
 stir up a spirit of rivalry against him, which might impede 
 his ambitious progress. In this they were not totally un- 
 successful ; but pursuing at the same time their dangerous 
 scheme of reducing the army, they strongly influenced the 
 great majority of the military against themselves, and in 
 favour of any measure that Cromwell might propose. 
 
 In the mean while Cromwell steadily followed his object ; 
 and while he continued to agitate the minds of the soldiers 
 with reports of the intentions of Parliament, he consulted 
 frequently with his boldest friends on the means of forcing 
 that body to a dissolution. 
 
 About this time died Ireton, his son-in-law, a man who, 
 though he had served Cromwell faithfully and powerfully, 
 maintained a great influence on the mind of his wife's 
 father. Every reason exists for believing that he was a 
 sincere and steady republican, and would have strenuously 
 opposed the ambitious views which Cromwell entertained. 
 His death, therefore, may have removed one check from 
 the great general's actions ; and after that period* we cer- 
 tainly find his movements much more rapid towards the 
 attainment of his chief purpose. 
 
 The only occasion, however, on which he boldly spoke his 
 thoughts on the subject of assuming the crown was in a 
 conversation with Whitelock, who endeavoured to dissuade 
 him from his design. ISTevertheless, he continued to urge 
 his measures against the Parliament, till that body — finding 
 their speedy dissolution inevitable, and seeing that the 
 army would drive them forth if they did not themselves 
 call a new House — endeavoured to hurry through a bill, 
 which, instead of removing them from their places, would 
 have fixed them there more steadily, and only increased their 
 party. They provided that they were to remain part of the 
 new Parliament, whether returned in the new election or 
 not, and they were to have a discretionary power of ac- 
 cepting or rejecting the new members, according to their 
 opinion of their fitness. 
 
 The absurdity and impudence of this bill made them all 
 
 * November 26th, 1652. 
 
184 OLITER CROMWELL. 
 
 feel that they would never be allowed to carry it tlirougli 
 without great haste ; and they had nearly proceeded to its 
 completion, when Cromwell, informed of what was passing, 
 entered the House. He listened to their proceedings for 
 some time without apparent passion, but at length, rising 
 as the Speaker was about to put the question, he began a 
 discourse, from which he soon deviated iuto the most 
 vehement invective, and ended by exclaiming, " You are no 
 parliament — the Lord has done with you ; — I tell you you 
 are no longer a parliament — you shall sit here no longer 
 to cheat the people." He then stamped vehemently on the 
 floor, and called out to " bring them in!" when the house 
 was immediately filled with soldiers. One of the members, 
 on their appearance, declared, " This is not honest — it is 
 against common honesty !" but Cromwell turning upon 
 him, answered, in a furious tone, " Sir Harry Yane ! Sir 
 Harry Vane ! the Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane ! 
 He might have prevented this, but he has not common 
 honesty himself!" • He then continued his abuse of the 
 different members of the House before the soldiery, de- 
 claring that he had sought the Lord night and day, that he 
 would rather slay him than put him upon that work ; and 
 at length directed the troops to clear the house, w^hich was 
 done, after a show of resistance by the Speaker. He then 
 ordered the mace to be taken away as a useless bauble ; 
 and having received the act of dissolution, he locked the 
 door, and left the place where so many noisy and factious 
 voices had rung, and so many criminal acts had been 
 devised, to the tranquillity of silence and the innocence of 
 vacancy. 
 
 The council of state followed into the grave the par- 
 liament from which it had had its being ; and on the same 
 evening its deliberations were put a stop to by Cromwell, 
 who himself appointed a new council of state, consisting of 
 thirteen members, of whom nine were officers of the army. 
 Cromwell had now, in fact, assumed the sovereign power; he 
 made peace and war, he entered into treaties with foreign 
 nations, he placed and displaced the judges and officers of 
 state, he levied taxes on his own authority, and was king in 
 all but the name. 
 
 rindiiig, however, that many doubted him, and some* 
 
OLIVEK CEOMWELL. 185 
 
 dreamed of opposition, he endeavoured to lull the minds of 
 the people by solemn but vao;ue declarations ; and promises 
 and schemes of new modes of government. Circumstances 
 soon occurred to induce him to call a parliament, which he 
 so contrived as to give more stability to his authority 
 by the appearance of national sanction. No such dan- 
 gerous and uncertain means as a regular election was 
 resorted to. The persons considered worthy of a seat, were 
 named to the lord-general by the Independent ministers, 
 and from these Cromwell selected a hundred and fifty, who 
 were summoned by writ under the usurper's own hand and 
 seal. This assembly of fanatics, from the name of one of its- 
 most distinguished members, " Praise-Grod Barebones," was 
 called Barebones' Parliament. They proved, nevertheless, 
 somewhat refractory ; and proposed so many startling^ 
 changes, that Cromwell found it necessary to send them 
 back to the places from whence they came. A part were 
 induced to acknowledge their own incompetence, and the 
 rest were easily turned out by a Serjeant's guard. 
 
 By this time the army, on whom Cromwell depended 
 for support, had been very generally brought oyer to his 
 elevation ; and the people had grown accustomed to his^ 
 rule, by the passing of several months. The title of king, 
 he found it more politic not to assume, but on the 16th 
 of December, he was solemnly inaugurated Protector, in 
 Westminster Hall. Pomp and ceremony, and a mixture of 
 military and civil parade, were added to give dignity to the 
 transaction ; and from that day, without the name of 
 monarch, Cromwell exercised more despotic authority than 
 any king of England has been permitted to hold since 
 his time. 
 
 Opposition and danger, however, still awaited him ; and 
 though he used every art of hypocrisy to make the nation 
 believe that the power he had assumed had been forced 
 upon him, and that his motives were disinterested, none 
 believed, and few respected him. State and show did not 
 procure him honour ; elevation gave him no security ; and 
 power refused him peace. The first parliament he sum- 
 moned after snatching the protectorate, began by investi- 
 gating his title, and were only brought to desist by force, 
 and by the exclusion of many of the members. Several of 
 
186 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 the clergy preached against him in the pulpits, and sedi- 
 tious tracts and pamphlets incited to revolt against his 
 government, and menaced his person with attack. Still his 
 administration of public affairs was firm, regular, and active. 
 [Frugality, order, and justice, were preserved at home ; the 
 honour of the nation was maintained abroad ; and the terri- 
 tories of England were extended in various directions ; 
 foreign monarchs treated with the British usurper as equal 
 with equal ; the superiority of the seas was asserted and 
 enforced ; Holland and Spain were humbled ; Scotland and 
 Ireland were reduced ; and the character of Cromwell was 
 admired by those whom distance of station or country pre- 
 vented from seeing any part but its greatness ; while it was 
 contemned by those to whom daily communication proved 
 its selfishness, its baseness, and its falsehood. 
 
 Yarious conspiracies, both by the loyalists and Eepub- 
 licans, against his life, the Protector discovered and sup- 
 pressed, by means of an immense number of hired spies 
 which he had spread through every rank of society. A 
 feeble attempt at insurrection, conducted by two weak and 
 violent Eoyalists, Penruddock and Grove, was instantly put 
 down ; and afibrded a fair excuse for oppressing the Cava- 
 liers and WTinging from them large contributions. The 
 liberty of the press also was soon attacked ; and the Parlia- 
 ment, still provdng refractory, were again dismissed without 
 ceremony. 
 
 Gradually as Cromwell proceeded, the opposition he en- 
 countered, the hate and contempt he knew to exist against 
 his person, and the insecurity of his government altogether, 
 drove him on from one arbitrary act to another, and ren- 
 dered that man a tyrant who was perhaps intended by 
 nature for a just and impartial magistrate. The elections for 
 Parliament were biased by every means that the jealous 
 daring of usurped power could suggest or carry through ; 
 and after the returns had been made, the assembly was 
 purged, as he expressed it, by his council, of all such mem- 
 bers as were obnoxious to the Protector. 
 
 The House of Commons, thus selected, was of course an 
 instrument in Cromwell's hands ; but the nation murmured 
 loudly, the army even was shaken in its attachment, and 
 Oromwell owed his security more to the disunion and mul- 
 
OLTVEB CEOMWELL. 1&7 
 
 titude of opinions prevalent amongst his enemies, than to 
 any individual strength. To guard against revolt, to repress 
 the turbulent state of the country, and render a number of 
 the military dependent upon his government, the usurper 
 portioned out the whole provinces he governed, to a number 
 of officers holding the title of major-general, to whom he 
 entrusted the most exorbitant power. At the same time, 
 his subservient Parliament placed in his hands the last 
 great instrument of despotism, a special commission for 
 trying all persons accused of imagining his death, or tho 
 restoration of the house of Stuart, without reference to a 
 jury. The high courts of justice, in which any seventeen of. 
 these special commissioners were authorized to try cases oi 
 high treason, admitted of no appeal but to the Protector him- 
 self, so that in fact the life of the accused was in his hands. 
 
 Shortly after these new commissions, Cromwell contrived 
 that the offer of the crown should be made to him by the 
 Parliament. The honour of declining the splendid baublOp 
 though certainly an alternative within the scope of Crom- 
 well's calculations, was certainly not his chief object in pra-^ 
 nioting the offer. There was something in the name of 
 king that his vanity coveted, and it may be, that be hoped 
 in some degree to stamp stability on his usurped power, by 
 giving it a name connected with old institutions. He hesi- 
 tated for some time in forming his determination, but find- 
 ing that the very proposal gave deep offence to the army, 
 he made a merit of necessity, and declined the dangerous 
 honour to which he had long aspired. 
 
 Although he thus rejected the office of king, the famoufi 
 memorial presented on the occasion, called " The Petition 
 and Advice," introduced a considerable change into the 
 state of the government. The Protectorate, which Crom- 
 well had assumed, was now bestowed upon him by the na- 
 tional assembly, which at the same time authorized him to 
 name his successor, and to appoint or create another House 
 of Peers, while one million three hundred thousand pounds 
 were voted for the current expenses of his government. At 
 the same time, various of those powers which he had 
 hitherto exercised were restricted by Parliament, but Crom- 
 well willingly made some sacrifice to give a more solid foun- 
 dation to his authority. To mark this as strongly as possible, 
 
188 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 he was again installed in "Westminster Hall, where the 
 Speaker of the House of Commons bestowed upon him, 
 with a long and ceremonious speech, a robe of purple velvet, 
 a sceptre, and a sword. 
 
 The rest of Cromwell's life may be narrated very briefly. 
 A strong opposition was raised against him in the next 
 parliament which he called. The House of Peers, named 
 by himself, unsupported by ancient rank, fortune, distinc- 
 tion, or any other quality which insures respect, and at- 
 tacked continually by the other House, soon fell into con- 
 tempt. The officers of the army murmured highly, and 
 many of them were cashiered or dismissed. Various bodies 
 of Cavaliers began to rise in different parts of the kingdom; 
 and the marquis of Ormond came over from the Nether- 
 lands to put himself at their head. But still the mind of 
 the Protector bore up against all. The plans of the Cava- 
 liers were defeated ; their small forces dispersed, and several 
 of their leaders taken and executed. The new parliament 
 was dismissed as unceremoniously as those that had pre- 
 ceded it ; and Cromwell, taking the whole government into 
 his own hands, resolved to rule without the cumbrous 
 appendage of a national representation. 
 
 February, 1658, was a moifth of great rejoicing in the 
 family of the Protector, from the marriage of his two daugh- 
 ters, the one to Lord Falconbridge, and the other to Mr. 
 Eich. But in the course of March a pamphlet, written by 
 one Colonel Titus, was thrown into very general circulation.. 
 It was called " Killing no Murder," and tended to prove 
 that it was just and reasonable to assassinate the Protector. 
 The writing was bold and spirited, and it ended with vague- 
 assertions in regard to the innumerable hands which wero 
 privately armed against the life of the usurper. 
 
 Such an intimation was much better calculated to daunt; 
 the heart of Cromwell than a thousand armies in the field. 
 His dark and gloomy imagination, furnished with such 
 abundant materials for horrible fancies, presented to him 
 the assassin's knife continually at his throat. The vague- 
 ness of the danger, rendered it dreadful to a mind that 
 feared nothing tangible. He had had continual proof that 
 such designs against his person really existed ; and they 
 were now always present to his mind. He is reported 
 
OLIYEE CROMWELL. 189 
 
 never to have smiled again ; but domestic grief soon came 
 to aid the gloom of hypochondriac apprehension. 
 
 His favourite daughter, Elizabeth, after the death of her 
 husband, Mr. Claypole, had never fully recovered from the 
 sorrows of such a loss. It is a favourite error with people 
 who have no feeling themselves, that strong minds are un- 
 susceptible of deep grief. It is true that minor cares may 
 make no impression ; but the feelings once received by per- 
 sons of such a character, are like lines engraven upon steel 
 and last for ever. Her father's talents and decision had 
 descended to Elizabeth Cromwell more perhaps than to any 
 other of his children, and they had come down to her un- 
 mixed with any particle of his baser nature. She had ever 
 been his favourite child, and though constantly opposing, 
 with the noblest zeal of filial affection, the hypocritical am- 
 bition which called down disgrace on her father's name, she 
 still remained beloved. Her husband's death had brought 
 a deep melancholy upon her ; and all the great events in 
 which her heart was unwillingly forced to take a share — 
 the blood she saw spilt, the crimes she beheld committed, 
 apprehensions for her father's safety, and sorrow for his 
 <3rimes, — carried her gradually to the brink of the grave. 
 
 Cromwell hung over the bed of his dying child with 
 affectionate anxiety seldom known to the restless selfishness 
 of ambition ; but neither his love nor his cares could save 
 her, and she died on the 6th of August, 1658, raving on 
 subjects which showed how deeply his crimes had affected 
 her heart. Anxiety and grief had already shaken the con- 
 stitution of the usurper ; and finding the fever by w^hich he 
 had been attacked in Scotland return with redoubled force, 
 he quitted Hampton Court, where his daughter had expired, 
 a few days after her death, and returned dying to White- 
 hall. He soon saw that his physicians apprehended danger, 
 and at first bore the knowledge of his fate calmly, desiring 
 to sit up and execute his will. Eut after a time his appre- 
 hensions seem to have increased, and his only support 
 appeared to be in the visionary assurances of recovery which 
 he believed himself to receive from Heaven. His last mo- 
 ments, indeed, during which he deceived himself w^ith the 
 same fanatical dreams which he had often employed a3 a 
 means of deceiving others, for the base purposes of indivi- 
 
190 OLITER CROMWELL. 
 
 dual aggrandizement, clearly prove how nearly allied hypo- 
 crisy may be to enthusiasm. At length on the 3rd of 
 September, the anniversary of the battles of Dunbar and 
 Worcester, Oliver Cromwell expired; and the day of his 
 death was also marked by the most extraordinary tempest 
 of wind that ever visited these islands — a circumstance 
 which all writers have commemorated, however unworthy of 
 notice, but which shows a singular point of coincidence with 
 the death of JSTapoleon Bonaparte. At the time of his de- 
 cease, he had accomplished fifty-nine years, four months, and 
 eight days ; and had exercised the sovereign power about 
 live years. In person he was strongly made and robust, 
 but somewhat clumsy. His face was harsh in feature ; and 
 a large nose of a fiery red afforded subject of merriment to- 
 the Cavaliers after they had suffered a thousand defeats 
 from his hand. A man's character can alone be traced in 
 his actions ; and inasmuch as Cromwell studiously strove to^ 
 veil the motives of everything he did under the most varied 
 and most impenetrable disguises, many of the finer shades 
 of his mind are lost, never to be discovered ; but, at the 
 same time, the broad fact of his universal deceitfulness 
 stands forth more prominently. He cheated all classes and 
 all professions ; he betrayed all parties and all men ; and. 
 probably there did not exist one individual who could say 
 that Cromwell had ever treated him with perfect sincerity. 
 Whichever party was right in the civil war, Cromwell was 
 wrong, for he deceived and injured them all. His aim 
 was his own aggrandizement ; his principle, selfishness ; his 
 means, hypocrisy. He possessed vast talent of every kind, 
 but his principal talent was deceit ; and though he had in- 
 finite presence of mind, great self-command, exquisite dis- 
 cernment of human character, was a mighty commander, a 
 skilful politician, and a man of wonderful powers, he was a 
 hypocrite, a knave, and a villain, who made use, during a 
 long life, of the most magnificent powers to accomplish the 
 basest objects, and died universally hated, condemned, and 
 despised.* 
 
 * It may not be uninteresting to notice, that both Bonaparte and 
 Cromwell, who had each confronted so many dangers in the field, had; 
 nearly been cut off in mid-career in attempting to drive a set o£ 
 beautiful horses presented by the sycophancy of a neighbouririg state.; 
 
101 
 
 GEORGE MONK, 
 
 DUKE OE ALBEMAELE. 
 
 Born December 6, 1608 — Beceives an ensign's commission, and ii? 
 present at the expedition to the Isle of Rd, and in the Low Countries 
 — In early life a Loyalist, and serves against the Parliament— Taken 
 prisoner and sent to the Tower — Liberated to serve against the Irish 
 — Succeeds to his family estates, and accompanies Cromwell into 
 Scotland, where he is left in command— Appointed admiral, and 
 defeats Van Tromp — Takes the command in Scotland — Cromwell 
 jealous of him — Some time after the death of the Protector, he is 
 offered the Protectorate and Hampton Court — He refuses, and effects 
 his great object — Duly rewarded — Dies in 1670 — His character. 
 
 A PETTY town and a decayed family in Devonshire pro- 
 duced the man destined in after-life to work one of the 
 greatest changes that has ever taken place in the fate of 
 this country. 
 
 George Monk w^as the second son of Sir Thomas Monk, 
 of Potheridge in Devonshire, and was born on the 6th of 
 December, 1608. His family estates were embarrassed, 
 and his father was encumbered with debt, so that difficulties 
 of a painful and inglorious nature surrounded him in his 
 youth. The extreme prudence for which he was afterwards 
 distinguished did not display itself in his early years ; and 
 it is said, that the consequences of having cudgelled an 
 attorney, who, contrary to express promise, had arrested his 
 father at a great public meeting, was the immediate cause 
 of his having been sent to Spain with the unfortunate ex- 
 pedition under Sir Eichard Grenville. 
 
 Whether this was the case or not, no douht can be enter- 
 tained that from his youth G-eorge Monk had been destined 
 by his family for. the army; and after this first campaign, 
 in which he served as a volunteer, he received an ensign's^ 
 commission, and devoted himself entirely to the service. 
 
 The war with France, and the expedition to the Isle of 
 
192 GE0EG2 MONK. 
 
 l^e, succeeded, and there, as afterwards in the Low Coun- 
 tries, he studied war as an art, and perfected himself in his 
 profession. At about the age of thirty he was made cap- 
 tain in the regiment of Lord Goring, but shortly after 
 threw up his commission, on some quarrel between his sol- 
 diers and the burghers of Dort, and returned to England, 
 where the first symptoms of the great rebellion were begin- 
 ning to show themselves. The trial of Lord Balmerino, the 
 attempt to reclaim the church-lands, and the imposition of 
 ^n obnoxious form of religion on the people of Scotland, 
 joined, it is believed, to the instigation of secret agents from 
 the Cardinal de Kichelieu, and promises of support from 
 Prance, induced the Scottish nation to take arms and to 
 march into England. 
 
 In the short and fatal campaign which ensued. Monk, 
 who had acquired a reputation in Holland, was raised to 
 the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and probably would have 
 distinguished himself, had the war been prosecuted with 
 vigour by the king and his government ; but weakness and 
 indecision were in the councils of England, and this first 
 rebellion was terminated by a disgraceful treaty, which held 
 out every encouragement to future sedition, by paying 
 traitors for their treason. 
 
 The Irish very soon followed the successful example 
 of the Scotch ; and the earl of Leicester, a distant relation 
 of Colonel Monk, was appointed to succeed the earl of 
 StraiFord as lord-lieutenant of that turbulent country. 
 
 Monk was now appointed colonel of the earl of Leices- 
 ter's regiment, and despatched to Ireland to serve with the 
 earl of Ormond. Here under very difficult circumstances 
 he greatly increased his military reputation; but he was 
 neither suffered to prosecute the war in Ireland vigorously 
 nor long. The disputes had by this time proceeded far 
 between the unhappy Charles and his Parliament. At first 
 the supplies for the Irish army were retarded or detained, 
 and at last Charles was obliged to recall a great part of his 
 forces and grant a truce to the Irish rebels. Monk was 
 one of the officers sent back to England, but on his arrival 
 at Bristol, he found that Charles, with the imprudent 
 suspicion which alienated so many from his interest, 
 bad ordered him to be arrested on account of his con- 
 
DUKE OF ALBEMAELE. 193 
 
 ncction with the earl of Leicester. Lord Hawley, however, 
 who put the arrest in execution, was so satisfied of Colonel 
 Monk's loyalty, that he permitted him to proceed to 
 Oxford on his parole to justify himself to the king. In the 
 attempt to do so, Monk was completely successful; and, 
 his regiment having been given to anotlier, he was appointed 
 major-general of the Irish brigade. He immediately has- 
 tened to Chester, where, joining Lord Byron, his com- 
 mander-in-chief, he shared in the engagement with the 
 Parliament forces at Middlewich, and with the rest followed 
 the fugitives to Nantwich. Fairfax instantly hastened 
 to the relief of that place, and proceeding with immense 
 expedition, overtook the royal forces before they were aware 
 of his march, routed them completely, and took a consider- 
 able number of prisoners, amongst whom was Greneral 
 Monk. 
 
 He was instantly sent to Hull, and thence conveyed 
 to the Tower of London, where the Parliament, being 
 well aware of his value, detained him for nearly four years, 
 urging him, by every means in their power, to abandon 
 the cause of the king. 
 
 For a long time. Monk seems to have entertained hopes 
 that the court would negotiate his exchange ; but although 
 Charles did not forget him, and is said to have conveyed to 
 him in prison a sum of money for his support, yet others 
 were liberated while he continued to languish in confine- 
 ment, and we may well believe that every day increased 
 his desire for freedom. At length, by a rather curious 
 coincidence, the Parliament and the king united in declar- 
 ing the Irish 'insurgents to be rebels; and Lord Lisle, the 
 »son of the earl of Leicester, was appointed, by the Parlia- 
 ment, commander-in-chief of a body offerees despatched to 
 that country. Monk was offered his liberty upon condition 
 of serving in this army, and he appears to have accepted it 
 with delight. He was not called to serve against the king ; 
 and though he did not display on this occasion that noble 
 and devoted loyalty which many of the Cavaliers displayed, 
 his conduct, though not admirable, was at least excusable. 
 He accordingly accompanied his cousin to Ireland, where 
 the earl of O-rmond commanding for the king, refused 
 to receive the Parliamentary forces in Dublin, and con- 
 
 o 
 
194i GEOEGE MONK, 
 
 sequently Lord Lisle' was obliged to direct his course 
 towards the south, and effect his landing at Cork. 
 
 No very brilliant success attended this expedition ; and 
 at the end of a few months Lisle and Monk returned 
 to England. 
 
 "Whether Monk expressed a determination not to serve 
 the Parliament, in actual opposition to the king, or 
 whether the rebels themselves did not choose to trust 
 him in a situation where inducements and opportunities 
 would not have been wanting to return to the royal cause, 
 can hardly now be ascertained; but it is certain that 
 he was almost immediately appointed to command the 
 forces in the north of Ireland. Here, with small means 
 and refractory troops, he maintained his ground steadily 
 against the well-known Owen O'Neal, and carried on the 
 war with success till after the murder of the king had been 
 perpetrated in London. In the end, however, the Scotch 
 forces under his command having been withdrawn, and 
 a part of the English troops having gone over to the 
 E-oyalists under the marquis of Ormond, Monk concluded 
 a treaty with O'Neal, and .returned to England. 
 
 For some time after this Monk seems to have remained 
 unemployed ; and, during the interval, succeeded to the 
 entailed estates of his family by the death of his elder 
 brother without heirs male. Up to this period Greneral 
 Monk had not on any occasion been required to oppose 
 a royal army. His operations in Ireland had been against 
 rebels equally obnoxious to the king and the Parliament ; 
 but after Cromwell's reduction of that island, which I have 
 mentioned in the preceding pages, the former E-oyalist was 
 called upon to accompany the Parliamentary general in his 
 expedition against the Eoyalists of Scotland. 
 
 It is vain to seek for any palliation of Greneral Monk's 
 conduct on this occasion. The plain facts are — it was 
 dangerous to refuse Cromwell's offers ; it was advantageous 
 to accept them — and we find Monk marching into Scotland 
 with the regicide general to oppose the army raised in 
 favour of the young king. Many, it is true, had set him 
 the example of abandoning their ancient loyalty, but the 
 stain was not the less deep upon the name of each. 
 
 The advance of Cromwell upon Edinburgh, his difficulties 
 
DUKJJ OF ALBEMARLE. 195 
 
 and clangers, and his retreat upon Dunbar, have been 
 already noticed. At the battle of Dunbar, in which the 
 loyalist forces under Leslie were so disgraceful]}^ defeated, 
 Monk distinguished himself by a vigorous and successful 
 •charge, and having once unsheathed his sword against the 
 king, Cromwell seems to have trusted him with unlimited 
 confidence. Edinburgh was soon taken, and the greater 
 part of the south of Scotland submitted to the English, 
 while Charles II. retired to Stirling, and endeavoured 
 by persuasions, concessions, and even hypocrisy, to remove 
 the fanatical disunion of the Scotch, and to raise a sufficient 
 force once more to take the field. In the summer of the 
 following year, a great part of the English passed over into 
 Eife, and Charles, taking advantage of their absence, hurried 
 on into England. Cromwell instantly followed, but Monk 
 was left behind to carry on the war in Scotland ; and whilo 
 the fatal battle of "Worcester was lost and won, he stormed 
 Dundee, took Stirling, and overran the greater part of the 
 lower counties. 
 
 Monk was a strict disciplinarian, and Bishop Burnet 
 remarks upon the rigid demeanour of his soldiers, " I remem- 
 ^ber well of three regiments coming to Aberdeen. There 
 was an order and discipline, and a face of gravity and piety 
 :amongst them, that amazed all people." Such conduct 
 harmonizing well with the character of the Scotch, and 
 ofiending neither their prejudices nor their pride, won for 
 the English general a high share of their esteem and respect. 
 He was soon obliged to leave the country from illness, but was 
 afterwards sent down again with the commissioners charged to 
 incorporate Scotland with the English commonwealth. Monk's 
 influence tended greatly to facilitate this object, and after 
 remaining some time in Scotland, he seems to have returned 
 to England with no specific command. The greatest vic- 
 tory, however, which he ever achieved was now before him^ 
 though the arms with which it was fought were new to him, 
 and the element on which it was obtained was one on which 
 he had never before commanded. 
 
 During his absence in Scotland, war had been declared 
 between Holland and England. Various successes had for 
 some time attended the fleets of the two great maritime 
 j)Owers, and alternately Blake and Van Tromp had been the 
 
 o 2 
 
196 GEOEGE MONK, 
 
 victors and the vanquished. At length, however, with an 
 inferior fleet, the English admiral was met by the Dutch, 
 completely defeated, and seriously wounded. Upon this 
 event, the naval and the military service being by no means 
 so distinct as they have since been rendered, Greneral Monk 
 was appointed to the command of the fleet, with Dean as 
 rear-admiral. The English armament instantly sailed in 
 pursuit of the Dutch, who, after the defeat of Blake, had 
 proceeded to the Isle of Ee, to escort back a large fleet of 
 merchant vessels to the ports of Holland. On the coast of 
 France the English admiral first descried the enemy, com- 
 manded by Yan Tromp and Van de E-uyter. Some authori- 
 ties declare the Dutch to have been greater in number, and 
 some attribute that superiority to the English ; but it is 
 more than probable that the fleets were very equally 
 matched, though Van Tromp was in some degree embar- 
 rassed with his convoy. The battle continued three days^ 
 and at length Van Tromp was forced to make his retreat 
 with considerable loss. He saved, however, the greater 
 part of his convoy, though a sufiicient number were taken 
 to aflbrd both the proof and fruit of victory. The English 
 fleet was much damaged in the action, but as soon as it was- 
 possible. Monk again sailed in pursuit of the enemy, and 
 before long, once more encountered Van Tromp on the 
 coast of Elanders. 
 
 On the 2nd of June, 1653, the English admirals bore 
 down upon the enemy, and the Dutch quietly lay to to 
 receive them. Admiral Dean, who at the time was in the 
 same ship with Monk, was killed by the side of his brother 
 officer by one of the first shots fired. Monk betrayed no 
 emotion, but, casting his cloak over his fallen companion, 
 proceeded with his commands as before. The battle soon 
 became general, and all writers join in praising the activity, 
 skill, and decision of General Monk, who thus, at the age 
 of forty-five, found himself engaged in a new scene, and 
 opposed to the greatest seaman of his day, with the fortune 
 of his country and the honour of his nation upon his hands. 
 
 Through the whole day the fight continued, and night 
 only suspended it, for the next morning to see it renewed 
 again. The eflbrts on both sides were extraordinary, but 
 at length, after one of the most terrible engagements on 
 
DUKE OF ALBEMAELE. 19V 
 
 record, the English fleet prevailed, and the Dutch admiral 
 was obliged to run upon the flats near Dunkirk, after sus- 
 taining a serious loss. It is scarcely possible to arrive at 
 any certainty in regard to numbers in matters of histor}^, 
 for one of the chief weaknesses of the human mind seems to 
 be a propensity to exaggerate, even where vanity or pride 
 <lo not contribute to obscure the truth. Some say that the 
 Dutch lost nineteen ships of war, some say eleven ; but all 
 agree that the victory remained with England, and that 
 Monk covered himself with immortal honour. 
 
 Monk now lay upon the coast of Holland, and for a time 
 the Dutch commerce was at end ; but before two months 
 had passed, Yan Tromp was again upon the seas, and the 
 two fleets were engaged off the Texel. 
 
 The battle again lasted beyond the day, and the com- 
 manders on both sides seem to have staked honour and 
 'life upon the event. The general order given to the 
 English fleet by Monk, was to sink the enemy and make no 
 prizes, so that the victorious ships might not be embarrassed 
 "by those they captured. 
 
 The Dutch admiral was not less active or less resolute; 
 but, after an action continued during three days. Van Tromp 
 fell, and his shattered fleet was driven into the Texel, with 
 the' loss of thirty of its best vessels. 
 
 So severe a defeat reduced the United Provinces to pro- 
 pose terms to England which they would formerly have 
 •rejected with contempt ; but the notions of the miserable 
 body of fanatics who were then sitting at Westminster 
 under the name of a parliament were so wild and visionary, 
 that the ambassadors from the Dutch republic found no 
 possible means of treating. 
 
 Amongst other insane dreams, the Eifth-Monarchy men, 
 as they were called, would listen to nothing but the incor- 
 poration of Holland into their projected spiritual kingdom ; 
 und as this did not at all accord with the views of the mer- 
 ►cantile Dutchmen, it is probable that war would have been 
 renewed, had not Cromwell found it necessary to dismiss 
 •the Parliament. Occupied with the consolidation of his 
 power at home, the usurper granted the Dutch better 
 ierms than their power, in its depressed state, could have 
 enforced ; and at the same time he recalled Monk to take 
 
198 GEOBGE MONK, 
 
 once more the command in Scotland, where he was threat- 
 ened by various parties of Eojalists, under Athol, Glencairn, 
 and Middleton. 
 
 During the absence of Monk, Lilburn had commanded in 
 Scotland; and, equally irresolute and fanatical, he had 
 irritated the Scotch by the excesses he tolerated, without 
 daring to repress the insurrections which his misconduct 
 favoured. 
 
 Without delay Monk set out for the scene of difficulty,, 
 and finding that the danger had arisen as much from the 
 idleness of the Parliamentary army as from the activity of 
 their enemies, he instantly prepared to remedy the one evil 
 while he met the other. His forces were immediately 
 drawn into the Highlands, where, by fatiguing and difficult 
 marches, and well-timed and skilful evolutions, he at once 
 reduced his soldiers to discipline and obedience, and coun- 
 teracted the designs of the Ko3^alists. Nor by this conduct 
 did he in fact iujure the royal cause, for the temporary 
 success w^hich any of the petty insurrections in the High- 
 lands might have met with, would only at that time have 
 been followed by total and overwhelming defeat. Monk's 
 motives must ever remain a matter of doubt : he might be 
 actuated by remembered loyalty ; he might be guided by 
 prudent calculation for future advantage ; but still, as ho 
 seems on all occasions to have abstained with scrupulous 
 care from acting offensively against the E-oyalists, we may 
 rationally conclude that he foresaw the great probability of 
 a reaction in public opinion, and the restoration of the 
 house of Stuart. 
 
 With the most cautious steps he pursued the earl of 
 Middleton, pressing him continually back into the moun- 
 tains without ever being brought to an engagement, not- 
 withstanding the eagerness of his own officers, and all the 
 endeavours of the enemy to force him to fight. General 
 Morgan, however, who commanded a body of the Parlia- 
 mentary forces, detached from Monk's army, encountered 
 and defeated a part of Middleton's force, which caused the- 
 dispersion of the rest. Cromwell at the same time heldi 
 out advantageous offers of peace and immunity to all the 
 [Royalists of Scotland who would lay down their arms ; and 
 thus tranquillity was soon restored to the country.. 
 
DUKE OP ALBEMAELE. 199 
 
 After having passed some months in marches through a 
 district which the natives had fancied utterly impracticable 
 for regular troops, G-eneral Monk returned into tlie Low- 
 lands, and established his head-quarters at Dalkeith. His 
 time was divided between rural enjoyments and the preser- 
 vation of peace throughout the country ; and it is generally 
 admitted, that, except from the schism which divided the 
 Scottish church, that part of the island in which Monk 
 commanded, enjoyed a greater share of calm prosperity 
 than Scotland had known for a long series of years. 
 
 Authority which has sprung out of the midst of revolu- 
 tion and commotion often ventures to do much that heredi- 
 tary power could not attempt without destruction ; and 
 during Monk's stay at Dalkeith the great body of the 
 gentry were disarmed, and a check put upon the prosecu- 
 tion of those private feuds and family hatreds which had so 
 long been a detriment and disgrace to the country. 
 
 , As Cromwell's own schemes of power extended, and new 
 views of aggrandizement opened on his sight, he unwillingly 
 trusted any great share of authority in the hands of another 
 man. To lessen Monk's influence without depriving him- 
 self of the use of his talents, the Protector sent down a 
 Council of State to Scotland, consisting of seven persons, of 
 whom the general was one. The power of a state, how- 
 ever, which was alone kept in subjection by the army, of 
 course remained in the hands of him who commanded, and 
 Cromwell seems, from time to time, to have been jealous of 
 General Monk, though either his suspicion was not suffi- 
 ciently strong to induce that officer's removal, or the 
 danger attending such a step appeared to the wary usurper 
 greater than the advantage to be obtained. He is said to 
 have written a letter on one occasion to that officer, in the 
 postscript of which he makes use of the following singular 
 words : " There be who tell me, that there is a certain 
 cunning fellow in Scotland, called Greorge Monk, who is 
 said to lie in wait there to introduce Charles Stuart. I 
 pray you use your diligence to apprehend him, and send 
 him up to me." 
 
 On what authority this letter stands I am not aware; 
 but it is not unlikely that, amongst the many varied and 
 cunnino^ artifices with which Cromwell strove to read the 
 
200 GEORGE mois'k:, 
 
 hearts of those he doubted, this may have been one. Certain 
 it is, also, that the regiments in Seothmd were continually 
 changed ; and that the wildest and most untractable corns 
 Avere sent down to relieve those which were withdrawn from 
 Monk's command. This proceeding was doubtless intended 
 to prevent that officer from acquiring too much influence 
 with the troops; but as Monk, though strict as a disciplina- 
 rian, was both just and liberal to the soldiers, it is very 
 likely that his reputation was thus spread through the 
 whole service, and that the very means taken to confine- 
 bis power, enabled him afterwards to perform so much. 
 
 Of General Monk's domestic life I do not find much 
 trace ; but it would appear that he had now been married 
 for some years, and that at Dalkeith House his privacy was 
 sweetened by the enjovment of all the dearest relationships 
 of life. 
 
 The death of one of his sons, bearing his own name, 
 George, is recorded during his stay in Scotland, and he is 
 said to have been more deeply affected by this loss than his 
 general fortitude and equable disposition had taught his 
 family to expect. The only public annoyance which greatly 
 disturbed his command, was the well-known conspiracy of 
 Colonel Overton, who went far in a scheme for overthrow- 
 iug the government of the Protector, and for murdering 
 both Monk and Cromwell. Monlv, however, was cautious 
 and wary ; and, long before the plot was ripe for execution, 
 he had obtained information of its existence and its extent. 
 A sufficient time was given to allow the conspirators com- 
 pletely to commit themselves, after which they were seve- 
 rally arrested in their quarters. Overton was sent to 
 London for Cromwell's own decision, and the rest were 
 punished and dispersed. 
 
 On the 3rd of September, 1658, Oliver Cromwell yielded 
 his uneasy life, and Eichard Cromwell was proclaimed Pro- 
 tector. Immediate news was sent down to Scotland of 
 these events, and the ceremony of proclamation was per- 
 formed in Edinburgh by order of Monk. One of the first 
 acts of Eichard Cromwell was to write to the commander in 
 Scotland, and desire his assistance and advice. Monk's 
 answers w^ere nearly as ambiguous as some of the late Pro- 
 tector's own speeches ; but they were civil and respectful ; 
 
DUKK OF albe:mahle. 201 
 
 •and with bis usual prudent maxim of taking advantage of 
 •events, rather than striving to guide them, he remained 
 calmly in Scotland, securing his own power, extending his 
 own influence, courted by all parties, understood by none, 
 and looking forward to that time when action might be 
 clicctual. 
 
 The brief protectorate of Eichard Cromwell ended in a 
 few days, with the full conviction of the whole nation that 
 some great change must be operated in the constitution of 
 the government. The wretched remnant of the Long 
 Parliament re-assembled, the army restrained and overawed 
 the state, the fanatics formed a junto, and endeavoured to 
 overthrow all the institutions of society ; and the city of 
 London opposed all parties, and demanded a free and re- 
 gular representation of the country. All was anarchy and 
 confusion ; and the different factions, which the strong 
 genius of Cromwell had been hardly able to keep in subjec- 
 tion, now threw off all control, and spent their fury on each 
 other. For a time the army, or rather a council of officers 
 representing that body, obtained the ascendancy, and sup- 
 ported the shadow of a Parliament, which had now received 
 the contemptuous name of the Eump. This coalition gave 
 a temporary power to both, and as the immense influence of 
 General Monk in Scotland was judged dangerous, mes- 
 sengers were sent to him for the apparent purpose of giving 
 him notice of the changes in the government, but in reality 
 with the design of seducing his soldiers. Attempts were 
 also made to remove his chief officers, and remodel his 
 army ; but Monk remonstrated in such a tone as soon 
 caused the Parliament to desist. 
 
 A weak and ill-timed endeavour to restore the king 
 liaving by its total miscarriage strengthened the hands of 
 the Eump, and elated its pride, that body determined to 
 reduce the army in England to obedience. The council of 
 officers, with Lambert at their head, resisted, and the two 
 parties were soon at furious variance. In the meanwhile 
 the royal cause, which, though kept down, had never been 
 destroyed in England, strengthened and spread itself in 
 various directions ; and at the same time the immense body 
 of Presbyterians, warned by experience, and influenced by 
 hatred to the fanatics, leaned strongly towards a restoration. 
 
202 GEOEGE ]UO^^Ji:, 
 
 Secret agents for the king had never been wanting in^ 
 England, and amongst others was Sir John Granville, a 
 cousin of General Monk. This gentleman had been per- 
 mitted to compound for his estate under Cromwell, and had 
 presented the living of Kelhampton to Nicholas Monk, 
 brother to the general of that name. No sooner, therefore^ 
 was' it determined in the council of the exiled king to try 
 to win the commander of the army in Scotland, than his 
 brother was sent for to London, and intrusted with the 
 mission. Monk Avas desired to make his own terms, and 
 every promise was added, in the king's own handwriting, 
 which might hold out sufficient temptations to induce him 
 to join the royal party. 
 
 The clergyman procured a passage in a ship about to sail 
 for Leith, aided by the general's brother-in-law, Dr. Clarges, 
 who was one of the commissaries in London. His voyage 
 was quick, and he soon found means of communicating to 
 Monk his mission, and the proposals he was charged to 
 make. General Monk heard all, and made many inquiries^ 
 but replied nothing ; and his brother seems to have remained 
 in perfect ignorance of his designs. According to report, 
 on one occasion — but one occasion only — he betrayed him- 
 self; which was when his chaplain, Dr. Price, a steady 
 Eoyalist, pressed him to hasten his measures. " Would you, 
 by over haste," he exclaimed, " bring my head to the block 
 for the king, and ruin the whole design ?" His brother was 
 sent back to London unsatisfied and deceived ; and Monk, 
 shut up in impenetrable reserve, meditated in silence over 
 the great events in which he was destined soon to act. 
 
 The negotiator for the king had not yet departed, when 
 both the council of officers and the Eump Parliament 
 applied to Monk for support in their contests with each 
 other. Monk knew the innate weakness of the Parliament, 
 and resolved therefore to support a body he could control at 
 his pleasure, rather than one which would resist his will. 
 He accordingly at once declared himself in favour of the 
 Parliament, and charged his brother, who was on the eve of 
 his departure for London, with a message to Commissary 
 Clarges, offering to march his forces into England if the 
 council of officers continued refractory. Thus supported, 
 the Eump overx^ated their power, urged their dispute to- 
 
DXJEE or ALBEMAELE. 203* 
 
 extremity with the army, and were in consequence once 
 more expelled by Lambert and his associates, who instituted 
 a committee of safety, as it was called, for the purpose of 
 carrying on the government. 
 
 It is probable that Monk had foreseen these changes, and 
 had already determined to take advantage of them for the 
 restoration of the royal family. At all events, his prepara- 
 tions were carried on with unceasing alacrity and care. 
 Considerable sums of money were provided, and large stores 
 of ammunition were laid up. "Warned by Dr. Clarges, that 
 Colonel Cobbet, sent down by the committee of safety with 
 a specious compliment, had orders to seduce his officers and 
 arrest himself, if found opposed to the views it entertained. 
 Monk at once laid hands upon the deputy, and sent him 
 prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh, which city, with every 
 other point of importance, lie had taken care to secure by 
 the presence of his most faithful adherents. 
 
 He then prepared for his famous march upon LondoUy. 
 declaring that he acted upon two general principles. Pirst, 
 that the military force must be subservient to the civile 
 and second, that the present constitution of the common- 
 wealth was to •be administered by parliaments. As the time 
 advanced, he took every measure of prudence also to secure 
 co-operation. It appears that he opened a communication 
 with Lord Fairfax, who agreed to raise Yorkshire in his 
 favour ; and that he wrote both to the officers of the fleet 
 and to the army in Ireland, who for some time remained 
 neuter. His pretence was still the restoration of the Par- 
 liament, though no one can doubt that he never dreamed " 
 that the weak and fanatic remnant who assumed that title 
 could hold their seats one month after the army was put 
 down. Still, with such caution did he veil his thoughts, 
 that no one penetrated his designs ; and, as he marched, he 
 took care to make known, both by letters and printed 
 declarations, that the army of Scotland only proposed to 
 defend the freedom and privilege of Parliament, and to vin- 
 dicate the rights and liberties of the people against all oppo- 
 sition whatever ; without any contention with the army of 
 England relating to religion or any religious persuasion,, 
 and without the design of violating the spiritual liberties oi 
 any one. 
 
204 GEOEGE MONK, 
 
 The news of all these steps produced great consternation 
 amongst the officers in London, and Commissary Clarges 
 was sent immediately to Scotland, accompanied by Colonel 
 Talbot, for the purpose of persuading Monk to abandon his 
 -design, and to enter into a treaty with them for the general 
 ■welfare of the state. 
 
 Clarges and Talbot, how^ever, were by no means well cal- 
 culated to fulfil the task imposed upon them, neither of 
 them being strongly attached to the party by whom they 
 were sent. From them Monk learned the precise state of 
 the committee, their total want of finances, their disunion 
 amongst themselves, and their suspicion of all who served 
 them. He had gone too far ;already for any negotiations to 
 be successful ; but seeing plainly that delay would every 
 day weaken his enemies, while it strengthened himself, he 
 sent three officers to London, in order to concert measures 
 with the committee; furnishing them at the same time with 
 private orders to contest every step, and draw out the con- 
 ferences as far as possible. 
 
 Li the meanwhile Lambert was not inactive. He himself 
 marched down to York ; while Carlisle on the one hand, 
 and Newcastle on the other, were secured by the English 
 urmy. 
 
 General Monk's envoys either mistook or mismanaged 
 his commission. The treaty was concluded with unnecessary 
 haste, and Monk himself was obliged to take the decided 
 step of refusing to ratify it. This proceeding, indeed, he 
 'Coloured in some degree by pretending that some of the 
 points were not clear, and by demanding an explanation ; 
 'but at the same time he felt that the time for delay was 
 past, and he immediately began his march for London. 
 
 Lambert had by this time advanced to Newcastle with a 
 strong body of horse and foot ; but both were ill-disciplined, 
 and discontented for want of pay. Monk's army was in a 
 much better state of subordination, was veteran, and well paid ; 
 yet, as he approached his adversary, several large bodies of 
 his cavalry deserted, and his situation was certainly for a 
 time most precarious. Lambert, however, took no advantage 
 of his superior numbers ; suftered himself to be amused ; 
 negotiated instead of acting ; and while a discontented and 
 needy host might have been well employed in bold and 
 
DUKE OF ALBEMAELE. 205 
 
 rapid movements, wliicli at once promised plunder and 
 afibrded occupation, be suiSered them to waste themselves 
 away in idleness, and spend their energies in murmurs, 
 contentions, and mutinies. 
 
 Having advanced from Berwick to Coldstream, Monk, 
 with apparent willingness, listened to Lambert's proposal 
 for a treaty between the two armies, and drew out the- 
 negotiations with consummate skill, till he found that his^ 
 opponent was sufficiently weakened in the field; that the 
 confusion in London had reached its highest pitch ; and that 
 the Parliamentary party had succeeded in bringing various^ 
 parts of the country to a state favourable to his views. 
 Lambert, with the wish of conciliating Monk and facilitating 
 the treaty, as well as to satisfy his soldiers, withdrew from 
 ^Northumberland, and retreated upon York. A meeting of 
 the Scotch nobility offered to raise a large force in aid of 
 Monk's design of restoring the Parliament, which proposal, 
 though rejected for the time by the general, was declined in 
 such terms as left the Scotch people well satisfied with his 
 demeanour, and prepared to support him. Fairfax sent him 
 word from Yorkshire that he was in arms upon Lambert's- 
 rear. Xews arrived that the fleet had declared for the Par- 
 liament, that Portsmouth had followed their example, and 
 that the regiments sent against that town had cast oft' tha 
 authority of their officers and joined the garrison. All 
 these favourable tidings showed that the moment for action 
 was come ; and, passing the Tweed, Monk advanced into 
 England on the first day of the year. The Hubicon was 
 scarcely passed, when a letter was brought to him from 
 Lenthal, the speaker of the Parliament, informing him that 
 Pleetwood and the Committee of Safety, alarmed by the 
 general demonstration of opinion throughout the country, 
 had yielded their usurped power, and restored the Commons 
 to their seats. Many thanks were expressed for Monk's 
 support and firmness ; but no orders for marching to London 
 were contained in the epistle ; and it was very evident that 
 such a proceeding was not at all what the Parliament desired. 
 Monk, however, had no thoughts of receding. The path he 
 had traced out for himself in the secret depths of his own 
 mind was, onward still ; and, seeming not in the least to 
 feel the distrust of the Parliament, he commanded the 
 
^Oo GEOEGE UQ-^Ky 
 
 speaker's letter to be read at the head of tLe regiments, 
 and, amidst the acclamations of the soldiers, declared his 
 resolution of leading them to London, to see their rulers 
 fixed firmly in their seats. 
 
 The march forward was painful, difficult, and obstructed 
 by all the rude obstacles of a bitter and inclement season ; 
 but Monk's soldiers were hardy and veteran, and their 
 advance was as rapid as circumstances would admit. In 
 the meanwhile the news which had brought joy to the army 
 of General Monk had spread consternation through that of 
 his adversary Lambert. He himself seems to have lost all 
 energy and spirit ; and where his wliole fortunes were at 
 stake, instead of striking one blow, either against the hasty 
 levies of Fairfax or the inferior forces of Monk, he sufiered 
 his army to dissolve, and gladly availed himself of an 
 opportunity to fly. 
 
 Monk's march to London was now unopposed, though 
 one great difficulty remained to be overcome. The arm}^ of 
 General Fleetwood, which had submitted to the Parliament, 
 was now in London, and superior to his own. 
 
 To have this force sent out of the city, and the troops he 
 brought with him received, was of course the first step to 
 whatever plan he might ultimately determine to pursue; 
 but such a measure could only be effected by the Parlia- 
 ment ; and that wretched body were already violently sus- 
 picious of his sentiments towards them. The restoration of 
 the excluded members to their seats, or the calling of a new 
 parliament, were equally unpalatable to them ; and yet from 
 -every quarter on his march Monk was besieged with ad- 
 dresses and petitions, beseeching him to restore the free 
 representation of the country. The least incautious word — 
 the smallest symptom of disaffection towards the fanatics — 
 would have confirmed Fleetwood's force in the occupation 
 of the capital, and frustrated all Monk's long-laid and diffi- 
 >cult designs. To add to his embarrassment also, two com- 
 missioners, chosen from the most furious members of the 
 Bump, named Scott and Eobinson, were sent to meet him, 
 and to watch his demeanour. Monk, however, had a habit 
 of cold silence, which aided wonderfully in tlie concealment 
 of great projects. The addresses and petitions, after the 
 arrival of the commissioners, were received as before, and 
 
DUKE OP ALBEMAELE. 207 
 
 the deputations which presented them were personally well 
 treated ; but Monk was silent on the subject of their request ; 
 -and the two fanatics supplied the answers, with torrents of 
 abuse and fury. 
 
 From St. Alban's Monk wrote to the Parliament, demand- 
 ing that Fleetwood's forces — except two regiments which he 
 specified, and of which he had made sure — should be sent 
 out of London, affirming that he did not choose his own 
 well-disciplined and obedient troops to be mingled with 
 others which had shown such a spirit of riot and insubordi- 
 nation. So completely had he quieted the suspicion of the 
 two commissioners, that upon their report the Parliament 
 acceded to his request, and Fleetwood's forces were removed, 
 though not without some attempt at mutiny. This, how- 
 ever, was soon quelled ; and, after a halt at Barnet, Monk 
 marched into London at the head of his troops, fixing his 
 head-quarters at Whitehall. 
 
 Although he had hitherto succeeded in deceiving the Par- 
 liament, the whole of England, except those whose fanati- 
 cism shut their eyes, very easily divined that the design of 
 G-eneral Monk was anything rather than to maintain in 
 power a few wretched madmen, joined with a few disgusting 
 knaves. One party believed his intention to be the sum- 
 moning a free Parliament, another imagined that his per- 
 sonal aggrandizement was the object, and that a new pro- 
 tectorate was at hand; but in the midst of many jarring 
 •opinions, that which we find from Pepys increased and 
 strengthened every day, was that Monk intended to restore 
 the king ; and it seems to be now beyond a doubt that be- 
 fore his arrival in London, his resolution had been taken to 
 that efiect. 
 
 A reasonable cause for quarrelling with the Parliament in 
 its present state, was the next object to be attained ; and 
 this, that body very soon afforded spontaneously. Being 
 conducted to the council of state, of which he had been 
 named a member, the oath of abjuration was tendered to 
 •General Monk. This he declined for the time, declaring 
 that the officers of his army were scrupulous in regard to 
 oaths, and demanding that his mind should be satisfied of 
 the necessity of the one profi^ered, before he accepted it. 
 
 A few days after. Monk was conducted to the House of 
 
208 GEORGE MONK, 
 
 Commons, and a chair having been placed for him withia 
 the bar, the speaker, in the name of the House, thanked 
 him for his services. 
 
 As far as formal reverence could go, Monk showed him- 
 self deeply respectful to the Parliament ; but his speech in 
 answer to the speaker's address plainly showed that he 
 knew his power and their weakness. He declined sitting 
 in the chair of honour that had been prepared for him, but, 
 standing behind it, he recommended that grievances should 
 be redressed, and that the sober gentry should be encour- 
 aged ; he deprecated the multiplication of oaths, and prayed 
 that all consideration might be shown for the ease and con- 
 venience of the people. These expressions, it is true, were 
 vague and indefinite, but, in the mouth of one naturally 
 silent, habitually cautious, armed with power, and of known 
 resolution, such words grew weighty. 
 
 Either encouraged by this demonstration of opposition 
 to the Eump Parliament, or tired out w'ith the government 
 of knaves and fools, the- common council of the city cam& 
 to a resolution of not paying any taxes till a free parlia- 
 ment should be called. 'Enraged by such bold resistance, 
 the council of state commanded the general to march inta 
 the city, to arrest eleven of the common councilmen, and 
 to take down the chains and portcullises which then existed. 
 It is .probable that this command was not only given in 
 order to punish the city, but also to try Monk, with whom 
 Hazlerig, Walton, and Morley had been joined in command 
 since his arrival in London. 
 
 Monk knew not yet how far he could trust to his soldiers 
 for support, in opposition to the Parliament. He had led 
 them on to London under the continual pretence of main- 
 taining that very body he now intended to overthrow, and 
 doubtless he was not at all sorry that the Parliament should 
 now put them upon a task which he felt sure would soon 
 become distasteful to them. He accordingly obeyed with- 
 out remonstrance, marched into the city, arrested the ob- 
 noxious members of the common council, took up the posts, 
 and broke the chains of the barriers, w^atching as he did so 
 the growth of discontent and disgust in his soldiers. To 
 all representations he pleaded the orders of the Parliament, 
 and declared himself only an unwilling instrument. By 
 
DUKE OF ALBEMABLE. 200 
 
 the time that these insane commands had been fulfilled. 
 Monk had fully ascertained the temper of his troops, and 
 had in some degree learned the general feeling of the nation. 
 At the same time, he could well reckon upon the Parliament 
 soon giving him some new commission, equally unpalatable 
 to all ; and therefore, having obeyed his orders with pre- 
 cision, he left the city and returned to Whitehall to wait 
 for the next act of folly which the rulers might commit. 
 The same night he received commands to march back, 
 disarm the city, and take away its charter, which oppor- 
 tunity was not to be lost. Monk assured himself of the 
 concurrence of his officers ; and, as if in obedience to the 
 Parliament, again marched his troops from Westminster. 
 His reception in the city was of course somewhat cold ; but 
 having led his troops to Finsbury-fields, he sought and 
 obtained an interview with the lord mayor, wherein his 
 designs were explained. 
 
 At the same time, the news of his having sent a letter to 
 the Parliament, reproaching them with seeking to bring 
 himself and his army into detestation and contempt, and 
 requiring them to issue writs for filling up the House 
 within a week, spread like lightning through the whole town. 
 The citizens assembled in immense numbers ; the shouts of 
 " God bless your Excellence," were deafening as the general 
 proceeded to the court of aldermen ; the w^hole night was 
 spent in hospitalilty towards the soldiers, and in lighting 
 bonfires and roasting rumps in ridicule of the Parliament. 
 The bells rang from every steeple, the city was in one blaze 
 of light, and greater joy was expressed at the prospect of a 
 free parliament than ever greeted a mighty victory. 
 
 The Parliament made various ineffectual efforts to main- 
 tain itself in the purity of its debasement. It now threat- 
 ened, and it now endeavoured to persuade ; but Monk's 
 calm resolution was not to be changed either by menaces or 
 caresses. He seems for a short time to have balanced in his 
 mind various plans for restoring a free representation to the 
 country ; and at length to have determined upon re-admit- 
 ting the secluded members upon certain conditions, to which 
 they subscribed. Amongst the promises exacted from them, 
 were the two following — to dissolve themselves by a spe- 
 cified time ; and to issue writs for summoning a new Parlia- 
 
 p 
 
210 GEOEGE MONK, 
 
 ment to meet on tlie 20tli of April. After these arrange- 
 ments bad been made, tbe secluded members were brought 
 into the house by Monk's soldiers. The more violent part 
 of the junto immediately abandoned the field, while the 
 moderate party remaining, united with their newly-restored 
 brethren, to provide for the safety of the state. 
 
 Monk was immediately created commander-in-chief of 
 the forces, and although he still affected to uphold the Com- 
 monwealth, and declare against the return of the king, yet 
 a firm persuasion got abroad, that his ultimate object was 
 the restoration of royalty. " Everybody now drinks the 
 king's health without fear," says Pepys, "whereas before it 
 was very private that a man dare do it." 
 
 Monk now left the Parliament to their own deliberations, 
 little caring what measures they took during the brief space 
 which was allowed them before the assembling of a new 
 House of Commons. The royalists, wisely kept themselves 
 quiet, and seemed satisfied in regard to what must prove 
 the result of the complicated and difficult part which Monk 
 was playing. The Presbyterians gave the general to under- 
 stand that they were willing to co-operate in his measures 
 for recalling the king, but prudently abstained from any 
 other steps than such as might overawe the discontented 
 and support the friends of order and tranquillity. The re- 
 publicans were the only enemies to be overcome ; but these 
 were the most dangerous, because at once the most active 
 and the most insidious. They possessed also immense in- 
 fluence in the army ; and to divide and neutralize that 
 influence, while he concentrated and strengthened his own, 
 became the first object of Monk's thoughts and endeavours. 
 Having now the supreme command, and being furnished 
 with funds to satisfy all mercenary discontent amongst the 
 privates, he hastened to remove such officers as were ill- 
 disposed towards a regular government. Nor did he restrain 
 his view to one point, or one county, but we find that in an 
 astonishingly brief space of time, the army in all parts of 
 England had undergone changes favourable to royalty, that 
 Scotland and Wales had been provided for, and that a mul- 
 titude of mutinous movements had been repressed and 
 guarded ngainst, both in near and in remote districts. 
 
 At the same time an act was passed for raising tho 
 militia and enrolling the train-bands, and a force was thus 
 
DUKE OF ALBEMARLE. 211 
 
 created wliich Monk felfc sure would be subservient to his 
 views. The republican party, and more especially the re- 
 publicans of the army, men of both zeal and talent, resolved 
 not to lose their power without an effort ; and Monk had 
 to contend as much against dark and wily policy, as against 
 open opposition. Grreater part of the crown lands had been 
 distributed amongst the adherents of the Parliament and 
 the Protector, but Hampton Court, with a considerable ex- 
 tent of land, still remained to be disposed of, and this was 
 speedily voted to General Monk, as a reward for his ser- 
 vices. Monk had carefully abstained from taking any share 
 of the plunder of royalty, which had been so lavishly dis- 
 tributed during the Commonwealth, and he was not now to 
 be tempted. The offer of Parliament was declined, and he 
 remained free as ever from any participation in the pillage 
 ■of his king. 
 
 The republicans seem to have imagined that the bait was 
 not large enough, and, in consequence, they determined 
 npon pressing him to assume the sovereign power. Smol- 
 lett has imagined that they really intended to submit to 
 Monk as protector, rather than expose themselves to the 
 vengeance of injured majesty; and others have doubted the 
 proposal altogether; but the fact of a large party having 
 offered Monk the protectorate is now clearly established ; 
 and it is much more probable that their intention was to 
 lure him into difficulties and then abandon him, than to 
 give themselves a master, contrary to both their prejudices 
 and their principles. Whatever was their scheme, absolute 
 rejection on the part of General Monk obliged them to 
 abandon it ; and their next attempt was to intimidate where 
 they could not seduce. A great meeting of officers was 
 convoked, and a seditious declaration drawn up, in order 
 to force the Parliament to pass an act which would exclude 
 monarchy in any form. 
 
 This declaration was presented to Monk, who, after 
 taking a day to consider of it, or, in truth, to frustrate it, 
 gathered together such adherents as he could trust, and met 
 the officers in council. There he suffered a long discussion 
 to be entered into between the malcontents and the persons 
 he had provided to answer them, choosing that the storm of 
 conflicting opinions should be raised and weakened before 
 
 p 2 
 
212 GEOEGE MONK, 
 
 he interposed his authority to quell it altogether. At length 
 he spoke himself, and after sternly rebuking the officers for 
 attempting to interfere with the civil government, whose 
 deliberations they had marched from Scotland to protect, he 
 dismissed them to their quarters, with a command to hold 
 no more assemblies without his especial direction. 
 
 "Whether the officers found themselves too few and too 
 powerless to urge their declaration in opposition to their 
 commander, or whether there were other means used to 
 satisfy some and remove others, cannot be now ascertained. 
 It is nevertheless certain that they submitted with extra- 
 ordinary alacrity, and shortly after signed an agreement 
 promising perfect obedience to their general, to the council 
 of state, and to all the commands and resolutions of the 
 free Parliament about to be called. 
 
 At length, on the 17th of March, the Long Parliament, 
 which had sat at intervals for nearly twenty years, dissolved 
 itself, and are represented by a very simple and original 
 writer of the day, as " passing very cheerfully through the 
 hall, and the speaker without his mace. The whole hall was 
 joyful thereat," adds the author, " as well as themselves ; 
 and now they begin to talk loud of the king." 
 
 The prospect of restored harmony, order, and peace, was 
 doubtless the most joyful that could be offered to England ; 
 and everything now tended so evidently towards the recall 
 of the royal family, that only one man in the kingdom could 
 have successfully opposed it, and that one was Greneral 
 Monk. The council of state, to which the administration 
 was confided during the dissolution, was formed of men in 
 general well affected towards the royal cause. In it Monk 
 had a large party, as well as his individual vote ; and at the 
 same time he was commander-in-chief of all the forces by 
 land, and was joined with Sir Edward Montague, afterwards 
 earl of Sandwich, in the command of the fleet. 
 
 Still Monk did not declare himself, and the royal party 
 began to be alarmed at his long and cautious delay. At 
 length Sir John G-ranville, who had formerly conveyed a 
 message to him in Scotland from Charles II., resolved once 
 more to open the subject to him. 
 
 As his cousin, Granville had free access to the lord 
 general's levees, and sought every opportunity of privately 
 communicating with him: but for some time Monk 
 
DUKE OE ALBEMARLE. 213 
 
 studiously avoided all secret conference, and it was not till 
 he had tried by various difficulties the caution of his rela- 
 tion, that at length he consented to an interview. That 
 interview was brought about in the apartments of a 
 Mr. Morrice, a royalist gentleman whom Monk had for 
 some time especially attached to his person. The accounts 
 given of the conversation between the royal agent and the 
 general are various and doubtful ; but it is beyond question 
 that Monk then avowed himself decidedly favourable to the 
 royal cause, explained his conduct, and pointed out with 
 the same wisdom and prudence which had characterized his 
 own conduct, those steps which were necessary for Charles 
 to pursue. At the same time, with sagacious generosity, 
 he refused all offers in regard to personal reward. He 
 made no terms ; he urged not a request, when he had 
 a crown in his gift and a king at his mercy. He declared 
 that he would not sell his duty or bargain for his allegiance; 
 und begged that his majesty the king would not interrupt 
 his more serious considerations by offers of recompense or 
 proposals of reward. "With this glad reply Sir John Gran- 
 ville was sent to the king, who followed precisely the advice 
 he had received. A full commission was returned to Monk, 
 and all measures were concerted for restoring the king 
 without shackling his recall with any conditions. The 
 Presbyterian party, though equally determined upon the 
 restoration, would fain have imposed upon the monarch 
 many hard and galling terms which would have left him a 
 magnificent cipher in his own dominions, and have ren- 
 dered the government but a commonwealth miscalled a 
 kingdom. 
 
 Assured of Monk, however, in whose hands the real 
 power lay, and trusting to the hurry with which men 
 engaged in such a race endeavour to outrun each other, 
 Charles suffered himself not to be disquieted by these 
 proposals. The elections for the new Parliament continued, 
 and the royalist party were returned in great numbers ; but 
 in the midst of these favourable events, a circumstance 
 occurred, which, though quickly remedied, was well calculated 
 to give temporary alarm. General Lambert, after flying 
 before Monk in his march to London, had been taken and 
 committed to the Tower ; but now, as a last resource, the 
 republican party contrived bis escape, and althougli his 
 
214 GEORGE MO^'K, 
 
 evasion was instantly discovered, lie managed to reacli; 
 "Warwickshire and gather together a small force. 
 
 Colonel Ingoldsby was immediately despatched in pursuit, , 
 and Monk prepared, in case of the insurrection taking 
 a serious form, to display the king's commission and call to 
 his standard the royalists of all classes through the three 
 kingdoms. This, however, proved unnecessary ; Lambert 
 w^as overtaken by Colonel Ingoldsby at Daventry; his 
 forces made scarcely any resistance, and he himself was 
 taken, after having evinced less courage than he might have 
 been expected to derive even from desperation. 
 
 This was the last serious attempt made to frustrate 
 Greneral Monk's designs; but nevertheless he slackened no 
 eifort, he spared no precaution ; and a few days only before 
 the Parliament met, we find him carefully removing sucli 
 officers in both the fleet and army as were likely to 
 embarrass his movements. At length, on the 25th of April, 
 the two Houses of Parliament assembled, but no business 
 of any importance was transacted at their first meeting. 
 The king's arms were now to be seen displayed in various 
 places, the insignia of the Commonwealth were hurried away, 
 the great reaction of long-repressed feeling took place, and 
 the voice of loyalty was heard throughout the land. 
 
 The time was come, and Sir John Grranville, with Monk's 
 privity and consent, delivered the king's letter to the 
 council of state. All were prepared to contribute their 
 share to the change about to be wrought, and each member 
 had contemplated the means of eflecting it; but when 
 it was, at once and suddenly, brought before them as 
 a tangible proposition, it seemed to take them all by sur- 
 prise, and strike them with astonishment and consternation. 
 A resolution was piassed that the letter should not be opened 
 till Parliament resumed its sittings, which were suspended 
 till the 1st of May ; and a motion was made for the com- 
 mittal of Sir John Granville, which was only withdrawn on 
 General Monk becoming responsible for his appearance. 
 
 The blow being once struck, the object which had long 
 formed the secret desire of a great majority of the nation 
 having once been proclaimed, a thousand voices were found 
 to support it, and all opposition was drowned in shouts of 
 gratulation and tumults of delight. On the 1st of May, . 
 the king's letters were presented to both Houses of Parlia- 
 
DUKE OF ALBEMAELE. 215 
 
 ment, and an instant vote was passed, declaring " That, ac- 
 cording to the ancient and fundamental laws of the king- 
 dom, the government is, and ought to be, by king, lords, 
 and commons." Sums were also voted for the immediate 
 use of the monarch and his brothers, his messenger was 
 rewarded, and deputies were appointed to wait upon him at 
 Ereda, and conduct him to the English strand. 
 
 The army — the factious, difficult army — received the 
 monarch's letter with the same demonstrations of joy which 
 that document had drawn forth from the Parliament ; and a 
 country which, not six m.onths before, never heard the king's 
 name breathed but in secrecy and dread, now teemed with 
 loyal addresses, and wooed him with petitions to its shore. 
 Charles was immediately proclaimed in London. Admiral 
 Montague was despatched to the Dutch coast to convey the 
 restored monarch to his dominions ; and Monk received the 
 king at Dover, and conducted him in triumph to the capital. 
 At Canterbury the restorer of royalty began to experience 
 his master's gratitude, and was invested with the order of 
 the garter. He was soon after appointed master of the 
 horse, gentleman of the bedchamber, one of the lords of the 
 treasury, and was summoned to the upper House of Parlia- 
 ment as duke of Albemarle ; thus rising at once from the 
 rank of a commoner to the highest grade of the peerage. 
 
 Care also was taken that his fortune should be equal to 
 the station to which he was called ; and amongst the many 
 charges of neglect and ingratitude which have been urged 
 against Charles II. for his conduct towards those who had 
 upheld his cause or aided in his restoration, the case of 
 General Monk is a strong testimony in favour of the 
 monarch. It is true that in common policy he could not 
 forget to reward a man who had placed him on the throne, 
 but he might have allotted the recompense with a more 
 niggard hand where the proportion was left to his own 
 judgment, and a nation of claimants afforded a good excuse 
 for parsimony. 
 
 After the Eestoration, Monk's life passed in general 
 tranquillity. The disagreeable task of judging the regicides, 
 indeed, followed soon upon the king's return ; but in the 
 discharge of this duty Monk showed himself as moderate as 
 any of those with whom he was joined. The army was dis- 
 banded also, which, to one so long accustomed to military 
 
216 GEORGE MOIS^K, 
 
 command, could not but be an unpleasant event ; and before 
 long the plague appeared in London, involving all ranks 
 and classes in gloom and destruction. The nobility in 
 general fled from the great charnel which the capital now 
 became, and left those who had no means of seeking refuge 
 in the country to bear the horrors of their situation alone. 
 The court removed to Oxford ; but by the desire of the 
 king, the duke of Albemarle remained to maintain order 
 and security in the city. The archbishop of Canterbury, and 
 Lord Craven also, continued during the most severe period 
 of the disease ; and, beyond all doubt, the chances of war and 
 battle, with the object of glory and the stimulus of action, re- 
 quired less of either mental or physical courage than the fear- 
 ful command of a great city against which the destroying 
 angel had unsheathed the burning sword of pestilence. 
 
 Monk in no degree evaded the full duties of the task 
 imposed upon him. It has often been proved, that none of 
 the causes which foster and spread vice and crime have half 
 so great an effect as the demoralizing influence of despair. 
 A thousand examples of this fact might be produced from 
 the history of the great plague of 1665, were such illustra- 
 tion necessary here. But it is sufficient to say, that a rich 
 city, abandoned by the greater part of its population, was 
 not at all safe from the passions and follies of those that 
 remained, even though the livid plague kept sentinel over 
 the doors whose lords had either fled for safety or been 
 swept away by the pestilence. An armed force was neces- 
 sary to protect and restrain ; and all the soldiers that could 
 be collected were encamped in Hyde Park, while Monk 
 himself still remained at Whitehall, taking means for staying 
 the progress of contagion and maintaining order. 
 
 Of his personal security he seems never to have thought 
 for one moment ; every one had access to him at all times 
 without difficulty or precaution, and he now acquired a 
 glory above successful policy or triumphant arms. He 
 devoted himself for many months to the succour of his fellow- 
 creatures, looking death calmly in the face, though under a 
 far more horrible and ghastly form than when clothed in 
 fearful splendour as the King of Battles. 
 
 Towards the approach of winter the plague began to 
 diminish ; and though it still lingered for some time in dif- 
 ferent parts of the city, and penetrated into various towns 
 
THB GREAT PLAOITE OP LONDON, 1665. 
 
DUSE OP ALBEMAEJiE. 217 
 
 fend villages throughout tlie country, it took a mitigated 
 form, aud lost a part of its active contagiousness. London 
 resumed its activity and trade ; and all thoughts reverted to 
 the naval war then carrying on against the Dutch, over 
 whom Prince Eupert and the duke of York had gained 
 some successes, though not without loss. The safety of the 
 heir presumptive to the crown combined with other motives 
 to restrain Charles from permitting his brother to hazard 
 his person any more in the war, and the duke of Albemarle 
 was joined in command of the fleet with Prince E-upert. 
 
 Monk was now no longer a young man ; and it is rather 
 -extraordinary to find that he who in his prime had been 
 renowned for caution and prudence even to a fault, now 
 verged upon rashness in the decline of life. Early in the 
 year the two admirals put to sea, and having gained some 
 intelligence that the French were about to send out a small 
 fleet to co-operate with the Dutch, Prince Eupert sailed to 
 meet it, and prevent the junction of the two armaments, 
 while Monk proceeded towards the coast of Holland. 
 Scarcely had he left the Downs, however, when he encoun- 
 tered the Dutch fleet under De Euyter, amounting to nearly 
 double his own force. Notwithstanding his inferiority. Monk 
 resolved to attack the enemv, and accordingly the action was 
 begun by the English. 
 
 During the whole of that day it continued with various 
 success, and was resumed the next morning at break of day. 
 The enemy, however, from their number, could better sup- 
 port a long-continued action ; and the English fleet, though 
 still maintaining the battle, suffered much during this day's 
 fight. At a council of war held on board the English fleet 
 at night, it was determined to avoid a further engagement 
 unless Prince Eupert joined ; and, after spending the night 
 in refitting,, the English fleet retired before the enemy. 
 The Dutch pursued ; but by some mismanagement, several 
 of the British vessels ran upon a sand-bank, and it is pro- 
 bable that great part would have been taken or lost had not 
 Prince Eupert appeared at the same time, and brought his 
 squadron to the aid of Monk. The next morning the battle 
 again commenced, and a severe engagement ensued, in 
 which both parties suffered much ; and at night the two 
 fleets separated in such a situation that both might claim 
 the victory, which neither had absolutely won. 
 
2-18 GEOEGE MONK, 
 
 An action without success of course called up many a 
 charge in London against everj one who had taken any 
 part either in the battle itself or the movements that pre- 
 ceded it. The court was much censured for ordering the 
 two admirals to separate. The officers of the ISayy Board 
 were attacked for not conveying prompt information to 
 Prince Rupert of intelligence which they had obtained in 
 regard to De Ruyter's strength and intentions. Monk was 
 severely blamed for attacking the enemy without sufficient 
 strength ; and he himself declared that he would, have beat 
 the whole Dutch fleet before the pricce's arrival, if the cap- 
 tains under his command had fought as they did in the 
 victories he had won thirteen years previously. 
 
 To retrieve, however, was now the great object; and 
 every exertion was made to put the fleet in a fit state once 
 more to encounter the enemy at sea. 
 
 The Dutch were first prepared, and for some days in- 
 sulted the English coast unopposed; but on the 23rd of 
 July Monk and Eupert once more quitted the mouth of the 
 river, and the enemy drew ofl" towards their own shores. 
 Two days afterwards the British fleet came up with the 
 Dutch early in the morning. The forces were as nearly 
 equal as possible, and the battle lasted from ten in the 
 morning till four in the afternoon, when De Euyter drew 
 off and bore away. His retreat, however, was skilfully 
 performed, and the English gained but little advantage, 
 except that of keeping the sea and driving the enemy into 
 their ports. In this pursuit two large ships only were cap- 
 tured by the British fleet ; but in the battle the Dutch loss 
 in killed and wounded was immensely greater. Three 
 admirals, a great number of captains, and several thousand 
 men, by their own account, fell on board their ships, while 
 the slaughter amongst the English officers and sailors was 
 comparatively trifling. To reap some further benefit from 
 this victory, the two British admirals remained upon the 
 Dutch coast. Sir Bobert Holmes was sent upon an expedi- 
 tion against a fleet of merchantmen at Schelling, and part of 
 his force being landed, and part employed in boats, he plun- 
 dered and burnt the town, together with nearly a hundred 
 trading vessels, and returned with very little loss. 
 
 The duke of Albemarle was shortly after this recalled to 
 London, where the accidental fire which had destroyed a 
 
DIJKE OF ALBEMAELE. 219 
 
 part of tte city had given rise to a thousand vague and 
 visionary fears. The only military duty which he was 
 called upon to discharge after this, appears to have been 
 the command of a small army sent to the coast to guard 
 against any attempts of the Dutch, who still kept the seas. 
 At length the peace relieved him of this charge also, and 
 finding his health begin to decline, he retired into the 
 country, and endeavoured to shake off disease by quiet and 
 repose. His constitution, however, seems to have been 
 broken by fatigues and anxieties, and he was seized with ' 
 dropsical symptoms, which, though relieved for a time by 
 the prescriptions of an empiric, and by the country air,, 
 gradually returned as the winter approached. 
 
 In this state he went to Londou, where, becoming worso 
 each day, the restorer of the house of Stuart met with all 
 decent attention from the royal family during his last illness. 
 He abstained not, it seems, from public business to the last 
 moment ; but the principal object of his attention was the 
 marriage of his only son, at that time but seventeen, with a 
 daughter of the duke of JN'ewcastle. The previous arrange- 
 ments were soon completed, and the marriage was solem- 
 nized in Monk's presence, only four days before his death. 
 At length, on the 3rd of January, 1670, the duke of Albe- 
 marle expired, leaving behind him a character which has 
 been judged more variously than perhaps that of any other 
 man. 
 
 The violent parties which were born of the civil wars 
 viewed the conduct of Monk in the most opposite aspects ; 
 nor was it alone those two factions which would have ex- 
 cluded the king, or shackled his return with unworthy 
 conditions, which either misrepresented Greueral Monk's- 
 actions, or imputed to him evil motives, or depreciated hijs 
 talents. 
 
 Those persons who had concurred in the restoration 
 hated him who had effected it with the virulence of rivalry, 
 strove to invalidate his claims in order to enhance their 
 own, and envied him the rewards which they had neither 
 merited nor obtained. Thus the disappointed cavalier, the 
 thwarted Presbyterian, the crushed republican, are alike 
 found slighting Monk's abilities and denying his merit. 
 Eishop Burnet himself, with the violent party feeling which 
 overcame in him sometimes both an excellent judgment and 
 
220 GEOEGE MONK. 
 
 a strong love of truth, has spoken lightly of Monk's under- 
 standing. But in the very writings of the men who would 
 condemn him, we find the highest tribute to his character. 
 If we take but the facts which they state, and put aside the 
 prejudices with which they comment on them, we shall per- 
 ceive that Monk distinguished himself highly in early life, and 
 won the esteem of both parties in the state, when both were 
 prolific in men of great and extraordinary genius. We 
 shall find that he was eminently successful against the 
 greatest officer the Dutch ever produced — that in his com- 
 mand in Scotland he reduced a turbulent, dissatisfied, and 
 irritated population to quietude and order, and did so by 
 means which at once compelled their obedience, obtained 
 their respect, and won their love — that in a most difficult 
 and extraordinary time he acted with consummate prudence, 
 skill, and firmness, repressed insurrections, guided the 
 obstinate, governed the unruly, intimidated the fierce, over- 
 awed the bold, and without the eftusion of a drop of blood, 
 conducted a total revolution in thoughts, feelings, policy, 
 and government, to a safe and speedy termination. 
 
 A man may perchance gain one victory, or more— in- 
 crease his wealth, or raise himself in station, by a mere 
 concatenation of fortunate circumstances ; but a man cannot 
 go through a long and complicated enterprise, where many 
 are opposed to him and all are jealous of him ; where he has 
 frequently to change his conduct without changing his 
 object; where he has to take advantage of some circum- 
 stances and create others, without many of those qualities 
 of mind which constitute a great man. 
 
 Monk did so, and he was a great man. J^or can it be 
 said that he was ungenerous, though the rewards that 
 he obtained made many envious, and the wealth he ac- 
 quired oflfered a fair excuse for party accusation. His 
 admission of the king, without making any terms for him- 
 self, was either an act of noble feeling or of policy. If of 
 noble feeling, it speaks for itself; and if of policy, it was 
 that of generous policy, which none could conceive or appre- 
 ciate but a generous heart. Taken by itself, it was a fine 
 and magnificent action, and as such will be remembered 
 when the politics of those times are forgotten, and prejudices 
 ^re no more. 
 
sal 
 
 MARSHAL TURENNE. 
 
 Bom September 11, 1611 — Anecdotes of hi? infancy — His fine character 
 — Sent, at the age of thirteen, to study the art of war under Prince? 
 Maurice of Nassau — Serves against Spinola, in Holland, and enters 
 the French service — Under de la Valette in Germany — Gains mili- 
 tary renown — Serves in various campaigns — Commands in Germany — 
 Acts in conjimction with Cond^ — Siege of Philipsburg — Subdues the 
 Palatinate — Battle of Norlinghen — ^Wars of the Fronde — Marries — 
 Is converted to Eomanism — Commands in Holland — Killed while 
 reconnoitring, July, 1675 — His character. 
 
 Heney de la Tour D'ATiYEReNE, Vicomte de Turenne, 
 was born at Sedan, on the Mouse, the 11th September, 
 A.D. 1611. He was the second son of Henry, duke of 
 Bouillon, by marriage sovereign of Sedan, a prince whose 
 distinguished military and political talents had rendered 
 him the friend, the companion, and the adviser of Henry IV. 
 of Prance, during all the civil dissensions that desolated 
 that country towards the middle of the sixteenth century. 
 Henry, in gratitude for his services, brought about his 
 marriage with the heiress of Sedan; and from that union 
 sprung the famous Marechal de Turenne. 
 
 His brother, destined to succeed to his father's honours 
 and estates, being five years older than himself, was soon 
 separated from him and sent to pursue his military studies 
 in Holland ; while the young Turenne, a delicate and feeble 
 boy, remained at Sedan, under the care of his father. 
 
 Many anecdotes are related of him during infancy, dis- 
 playing his great natural inclination for the profession of 
 arms. His father having observed that his weak consti- 
 tution would never be able to sustain the fatigues of war^ 
 Turenne, to prove his hardiness, is said to have escaped 
 from his preceptor, and, making his way to the ramparts, 
 to have there passed the greater part of a severe winter's 
 night. After a long search, he was found asleep upon the 
 carriage of one of the cannons. In another instance, at a 
 very early age, he challenged one of his father's officers for 
 speaking disrespectfully of Quintus Curtius, his favourite- 
 
222 MARSHAL TURENNE. 
 
 author. The ofScer, to amuse the duchess of Bouillon, 
 Turenne's mother, accepted the defiance, and the young 
 duellist was punctually upon the ground. There, however, 
 instead of an adversary, he found a hunting breakfast pre- 
 pared ; and his mother having appeared as second to his 
 antagonist, the business was laughed off and forgotten. 
 
 Turenne's first studies were slow and laborious. He 
 showed no disposition for learning anything, and it was 
 only by piquing him upon it, as a point of honour, that he 
 could be at all induced to apply. Gradually, however, he 
 acquired a taste for that which was at first most unpalat- 
 able ; and, aided by a happy memory, he rendered himself 
 an elegant, if not a very profound scholar. 
 
 Before he was twelve years old he lost his father ; but 
 the same course of education continued to be pursued wdth 
 Turenne, under the direction of his mother, and hardy 
 exercises were added, which probably improved his health 
 and invigorated his constitution. Many high qualities 
 were now so distinguishable in his heart and his mind, that 
 they were marked and remembered in after-years. He was 
 mild, moderate, just, and charitable, even as a boy; fond 
 of thought and reflection, capable of drawing nice distinc- 
 tions, and an unswerving lover of truth. Such was the 
 character he had acquired, when, at the age of thirteen, he 
 was sent from his native place to study the art of war under 
 his uncle, the famous Prince Maurice of Nassau. 
 
 It must be remembered that Holland had not long 
 thrown off the yoke of Spain ; and though the States had 
 been acknowledged as an independent nation, and a truce 
 of twelve years had been wrung from the Spanish govern- 
 ment, still Flanders was occupied by Austrian troops, and 
 the infant republic was obliged to keep constant watch to 
 guard against any new aggression of its old oppressors. 
 To William, prince of Orange, who first founded upon sure 
 grounds the liberty of the Dutch people, had succeeded 
 Prince Maurice, who, at the early age of seventeen, had 
 been invested with the command of the army, and well 
 justified the confidence of the nation, by a long series of 
 brilliant actions, by firmness, integrity, and success. To 
 him it was — now no longer young — that the duchess of 
 Bouillon sent her son, shortly after the truce with Spain 
 had expired, and hostilities had again brgun. Her object 
 
MAESIIAL TUEENNE. 223 
 
 in so doing was undoubtedly to secure for Turenne tbe 
 advantages of an education under the first military genius 
 of the day. At the same time, however, it cannot be 
 doubted, that, as a member of the Eeformed Church, she 
 sought to remove her son from the power of the cardinal 
 de Eichelieu, who, while he vigorously supported the 
 Protestants of Holland in their war against Spain, had 
 expressed his full determination of crushing them in France 
 and its dependencies. 
 
 Eor the first few months after Turenne had joined the 
 army of the States, his uncle suffered neither his rank nor 
 their relationship to gain for him any exemption from the 
 most laborious duties of his profession. He was received 
 but as a simple volunteer, bore his musket, and served in 
 the ranks with the rest, and thus acquired a minute know- 
 ledge of all the details of military service, which was un- 
 doubtedly of infinite use in his after-life. 
 
 At the same time, by his patience, activity, and obedience, 
 Turenne showed himself worthy to command, and won the 
 highest praise from his uncle. However, before he received 
 any promotion, Prince Maurice died ; and his command, as 
 well as his rank and property, devolved to his brother. 
 
 Henry Prederic, who succeeded, now confided to his 
 nephew the command of an infantry company ; and in this 
 station Turenne served three years against the famous 
 Spinola, studying with the most profound care and atten- 
 tion the greater and more extensive branch of science 
 displayed before him, while at the same time he performed 
 most scrupulously all his duties as an oflBcer and a soldier. 
 His company appeared always more neat, more regular, 
 and better disciplined, than any other in the army; and 
 he himself was always ready, calm, and obedient. 
 
 Several minor sieges first accustomed him to active war- 
 fare ; but for some time no enterprise of great importance 
 occurred, in which he could distinguish himself At length, 
 however, the siege of Bois-le-Duc was undertaken by the 
 prince of Orange ; and as this was at that time one of the 
 principal fortresses of the Netherlands, strengthened in 
 various ways by nature as well as art, skill, courage, and 
 activity had a wide field to display themselves. Turenne 
 did not lose the opportunity, and on every occasion signal- 
 ized himself both by his energy and talent, in conducting 
 
224 MAESHAL TFEENNE. 
 
 whatever military operation was intrusted to him, and by 
 his indefatigable attention to every other circumstance 
 which could either facilitate the object of the siege, or 
 increase his knowledge of the art of war. So little care,, 
 indeed, did he take of the safety of his own person, that he 
 received a reproof from the prince of Orange for exposing 
 himself unnecessarily ; but at the same time that com- 
 mander is said to have remarked to those around him, that 
 if he was not much deceived, that youth, Turenne, would 
 some day equal the greatest captains of his age. 
 
 Eor five years Turenne continued to serve in Holland ; 
 but at the end of that time, the cardinal de Eichelieu, who, 
 though nominally but a minister, possessed really the whole 
 power of France, threatened to garrison Sedan with French 
 troops, lest it should revolt from its allegiance to that 
 crown. The duchess of Bouillon, in order to avert a pro- 
 ceeding which would have converted a separate sovereignty 
 into an inferior town, and rendered her son a simple gentle- 
 man instead of a tributary prince, engaged herself and her 
 heirs, by treaty, to remain ever attached to the crown of 
 France. Treaties, however, to ambitious princes are but 
 like silken threads on the wings of an eagle, which may 
 seem to bind him while he remains at rest, but are snapped 
 like gossamer whenever he spreads his pinions. The dura- 
 bility of such ties was well appreciated by E-ichelieu, and 
 he demanded of the duchess some firmer guarantee for 
 her good faith than that of a perishable parchment. 
 
 She was accordingly forced to yield her youngest son,, 
 and Turenne was sent as an honourable hostage to the 
 court of France. His reception there was as distinguished 
 as even a young and ardent mind, with all its bright hope& 
 and lofty expectations, could have anticipated ; and, without 
 any solicitation, he received the command of a regiment in 
 the French service immediately on his arrival. 
 
 For what reason is not apparent, but for several years 
 Turenne does not seem to have been employed under any 
 circumstances which could affbrd opportunity for the display 
 of his abilities. At length, however, Lorraine having been 
 invaded and conquered by the French, with the exception 
 of the single town of La Motte, siege was laid to that place 
 in March, a.d. 1634, four years after Turenne had entered 
 the service of France ; and here, for the first time, we find 
 
MABSHAL TUREKNE. 225 
 
 hini acting a conspicuous part in the ranks of that country. 
 La Motte held out for five months ; the determined courage 
 of the garrison employing to the best purpose every bulwark 
 with which art and nature had strengthened their position. 
 The obstinacy of the defence, however, gave full scope for 
 the display of those high military qualities with which 
 Turenne was so pre-eminently endowed, and the very first 
 lodgment made on one of the enemy's bastions was effected 
 by himself, after the marquis de Tonneins had been re- 
 pulsed with loss in making the same attempt. Turenne, 
 however, did not create an enemy in his less successful rival, 
 for modesty was so blended with talent and courage, in the 
 deportment of the young soldier, that he had the rare for- 
 tune to win friendship in spite of competition, and to gain 
 the love even of those whom he excelled. 
 
 His conduct at the siege of La Motte was rewarded by 
 the rank of marechal de camp, at that time the second grade 
 in the French service ; and from this period all eyes turned 
 upon him as one of the brightest in that galaxy of great 
 men that was then rising over Erance. Turenne was not 
 without ambition, and he saw with joy the wide field of 
 glory open before him, in a country whose political and 
 geographical situation showed a long prospect of wars and 
 contentions, which could not be terminated without calling 
 into action the great powers which he felt his own mind 
 possessed. 
 
 The state of France at this moment is worthy of some 
 consideration. By a number of ill-directed enterprises, 
 which were terminated in loss and defeat, however splendid 
 might be their first success — ^by long civil wars and reli- 
 gious disunion — France had for more than a century been 
 losing her political importance amongst the nations of 
 Europe ; while the house of Austria, uniting Spain, Flan- 
 ders, Grermany, and great part of Italy, under its domina- 
 tion, had acquired an apparent power which made the rest 
 of Europe tremble. The eyes of the cardinal de Eichelieu, 
 however, saw deeper than the surface, and as soon as he had 
 worked his way to the head of the French government — 
 strong in his own powers of mind, seeing vast resources 
 unemployed, and even unknown, in the country which he 
 ruled, and a thousand points of real weakness under all the 
 apparent vigour of Austria, he determined to raise France 
 
 Q 
 
226 MABSHAL TXTEENNE. 
 
 to her proper level, by depressing her rivals to their true- 
 station among the nations of Europe. War was, then, his 
 policy, as far as regarded France, and war was also his 
 policy as far as regarded himself; for — feeling certain that 
 if he could once launch the vessel of the state upon that 
 wide and stormy sea which intervened between her and 
 greatness, no one would be able to hold the helm, and no 
 one possess the chart but himself — he hesitated not to put 
 from the shore, secure that the pilotage must rest in his 
 own hands as long as he lived. 
 
 A pretext for war is never wanting, and soon four armies 
 were on foot to strike in every way at the power of Austria. 
 We shall only follow one of these, however, for the moment ;, 
 and that merely because Turenne was attached thereto as 
 marechal de camp. The circumstances under which this 
 army was placed, together with the object it was to effect, 
 show, in rather an extraordinary light, the inconsistencies 
 of policy."^ It was raised by E-ichelieu, the most bitter 
 persecutor of the Protestants of Prance, for the express 
 purpose of co-operating and aiding the Protestants of Ger- 
 many. It was commanded in chief by the cardinal de la 
 Yalette, one of the princes of the Church of Eome, who 
 chose himself the Protestant Turenne to second him, as his 
 marechal de camp, against the Catholic princes of Austria. 
 
 With this army Turenne was present during the whole 
 of the glorious campaign, in which the cardinal and the 
 duke of Saxe Weimar forced Count Mansfield to retire from 
 before Mayence, drove back Galas, and compelled the city 
 of Prankfort to adhere to the Protestant league. But h& 
 had also their reverses to share as well as their success ; and 
 perhaps his true merit appeared more fully during the 
 famine which the army was obliged to endure after quitting 
 Prankfort, and during the difficult and precipitate retreat 
 it was obliged to make, than even in the moments of its 
 highest fortune. During the dearth which reduced the 
 soldiers to live on roots and herbs, and even food from 
 which humanity revolts, Turenne sold his plate and every 
 article of value he had brought into the field, to administer 
 to the wants of the army ; and in the retreat the whole 
 
 * The history of all nations is full of such incongruities. Francis I. 
 did just the same. — Editor. 
 
MARSHAL TUEENNE. 227 
 
 energies of his mind would have seemed devoted to solace 
 the hardships and privation of the soldiery, had not his 
 brilliant efforts to repel the enemy, that hung constantly 
 on their rear, evinced that, though he combined humanity 
 vrith military skill, he did not forget his duties as a general 
 in his feelings as a man.* 
 
 We shall but briefly notice the events of Turenne's life 
 while acting under the command of another. It is neces- 
 sary, however, to mention a severe wound in the arm which 
 he received on the last day of the siege of Savergne, not 
 alone from the importance of the event as affecting his 
 health, and inflicting on him a long and painful abandon- 
 ment of his pursuits, but also on account of the grief and 
 mourning that pervaded the whole camp during his illness, 
 and the joy caused by his recovery — an eloquent testimony 
 of the love which he had already inspired in the bosoms of 
 the soldiery. 
 
 The only separate command which he took during this 
 campaign was even before his wound was perfectly healed. 
 On this occasion he was completely successful, attacking 
 G-eneral Galas, who was in the act of entrenching his army 
 near Jussey in Frandie Comte ; and after a severe struggle, 
 forcing him to quit his lines to retreat on Brissac, and 
 ultimately once more to cross the Rhine. 
 
 The following year Turenne accompanied his friend and 
 general, the cardinal de la Yalette, into Manders, where 
 his share in the successes of the campaign consisted in the 
 capture of the fortress of Solre, one of the strongest places 
 in Hainault; and in the glorious defence of Maubeuge 
 against the whole force of Spain. We next find him at 
 the siege of Brissac, which lasted more than seven months, 
 though all the horrors of famine had been felt within the 
 walls long before its surrender, and to so severe a degree 
 that guards were regularly stationed at the gates of the 
 cemeteries to prevent the living devouring the bodies of the 
 dead. Innumerable efforts were made by the imperial 
 forces to succour the place or compel the French to raise 
 the siege. Their efforts, however, were in vain ; and their 
 want of success is generally attributed in a great degree to 
 
 * So far from boasting of his humanity, he pretended that he sold 
 his property to pay his gambling debts, whereas all went to the relief 
 of the soldiers. 
 
 Q2 
 
228 MARSHAL TTJllENNE. 
 
 the skill and activity of Turenne. At all events the taking 
 of the last ravelin, which terminated the defence of the 
 town, was accomplished by Turenne himself at the head of 
 four hundred men, who, under a tremendous fire, cut down 
 the palisade with axes, and, forcing their way in, put the 
 defenders to the sword. 
 
 The reputation of Turenne had now risen to so high a 
 pitch that Eichelieu is reported to have offered him one 
 of his nieces in marriage. Turenne, however, declined an 
 honour which was never refused by any one but himself 
 with safety. The motive, however, of his unwillingness 
 was one which the cardinal himself approved — the diffe- 
 rence of religion ; for though before this time his brother, 
 the duke of Bouillon, had embraced the dogmas of the 
 Church of Eome Turenne still held firmly to the Eeformed 
 Church. 
 
 The scene of Turenne' s exploits now changed to Italy ; 
 and, under the cardinal de la Valette and the count de 
 Harcourt, he went through the whole of the war in Savoy. 
 Throughout this campaign no signal victories were obtained, 
 for no great battles were fought ; the number of troops on 
 each side was small, and success was more to be gained by 
 skilful manoeuvres than by physical force. Turenne, how- 
 ever, distinguished himself in every movement of the army, 
 and contributed, at least as much as the generals who com- 
 manded, to the success that was obtained. 
 
 Hitherto that small tract of country on the Prench side 
 of the Pyrenees, called Eoussillon, had belonged to Spain 
 as a dependence upon Catalonia ; but the tyranny of the 
 Count Duke Olivarez and the bad conduct of the Castilian 
 soldiery had roused the Catalonian people into revolt, and a 
 favourable opportunity presented itself to Eichelieu of dis- 
 membering Spain by taking possession of Eoussillon. The 
 armies of France immediately entered that province, and 
 Turenne was called to act as lieutenant-general under the 
 marechal de la Meilleraye, commander-in-chief. A singl*^- 
 campaign accomplished the subjection of Eoussillon, and 
 but little opportunity occurred for Turenne to increase the 
 fame he had already gained. At this time broke forth the 
 conspiracy of Cinq Mars, formed certainly with motives 
 originally good, and for an object highly patriotic, but which, 
 carried on by treasonable means, lost the character of virtue 
 
MARSHAL TUEENNE. 229 
 
 to take that of crime. Either by treachery or accident the 
 conspiracy was discovered before it had reached maturity, 
 and the actors therein were arrested. Amongst these was 
 the duke of Bouillon, the brother of Turenne ; but while 
 persons not more criminal than himself were executed for 
 their united treason, the duke was spared at the interces- 
 sion of his powerful friends, but only on the condition of 
 yielding his sovereignty of Sedan, and becoming a subject 
 instead of a feudal prince. Turenne himself had accompa- 
 nied the court to Paris, to join his voice to those w^ho 
 solicited his brother's pardon ; and here, after the death of 
 Louis XIII. and of Eichelieu, which took place with a very 
 short interval, he joined himself to the party of the queen 
 in the brief intrigues for the regency of the kingdom 
 during the minority of Louis XIY. The queen in recom- 
 pense once more gave him the subordinate command of the 
 Prench army in Italy, commanded in chief by Prince Thomas 
 of Savoy ; and, after a very short space of time, sent him 
 the baton of field-marshal, the highest grade in the Prench 
 army. 
 
 Shortly after this, Turenne was called to the command of 
 the army in Grermany, which had been left, at the death of 
 the marechal de Gruebriant, in a dreadful state of disorgani- 
 zation. His first care was to ameliorate as far as possible 
 the condition of his soldiers ; and, after a short time, he 
 brought them into winter quarters in Lorraine. In the 
 commencement of May, the following year (16M), the Bava- 
 rian army, to which Turenne was opposed, proceeded to 
 besiege Pribourg. The place was important, and though 
 the army of Prance was very much inferior to that com- 
 manded by the Bavarian G-eneral Mercy, Turenne hastened 
 with all speed to the succour of Pribourg. Pinding, how- 
 ever, after several skirmishes with the Bavarian troops, that 
 the town had capitulated to the enemy, he retired to some 
 distance to watch what movements would follow. In these 
 circumstances it was that he was joined by the great Conde, 
 after whose arrival the three battles of Pribourg took 
 place, of which I have given an account elsewhere. It is 
 only necessary, therefore, to pause here to remark that the 
 characters of Turenne and Conde were as opposite as those 
 of any two great generals can be. Turenne, prudent, 
 cautious, and skilful, was never bold but as an effect of calcu- 
 
230 MAESHAL TUEENITE. 
 
 lation, and avoided difficulties rather than surmounted them. 
 Conde, bold, ardent, and impetuous, was a great general 
 by nature rather than education, and thought that Heaven 
 threw difficulties in his way only that he might triumph in 
 overcoming them. It may easily be seen therefore that 
 no two men could be less fitted to act, the one under the 
 other. JSTo thing could have been more painful than for 
 Turenne to be commanded by Conde, except for Conde to 
 have been commanded by Turenne, and yet Turenne served 
 under his great rival without a murmur, aided him in bis 
 bold projects, and contributed to his success. Such is 
 true greatness. 
 
 After the battles of Prankfort, Turenne still followed 
 Conde to the siege of Philipsburg, and remained with him 
 till that city surrendered. He was then, however, detached, 
 for the purpose of attacking "Worms, which opened its 
 gates to receive him. This example was followed by Op- 
 penheim and Mayence ; and Turenne pursued his course 
 towards Landau, which was already besieged by the mar- 
 quis d'Aumont. That general, however, had been severely 
 wounded in the first approaches, and the continuation of 
 the siege fell entirely upon Turenne, to whom the garrison 
 capitulated five days after his arrival. Manheim, ISTeustadt, 
 and the rest of the adjacent places, surrendered after the 
 fall of Landau, so that the palatinate, the country between 
 the Moselle and the E/hine, and the course of the latter 
 river as far as Coblentz, remained as the fruits of one 
 year's success. 
 
 Conde now retired to Paris, and Turenne was left with 
 the army, to support the whole weight of the war in Grer- 
 many. His forces, however, were considerably weakened 
 (by the garrisons thrown into the various cities), and it 
 was with great difficulty, and the most skilful manoeuvring 
 alone, that he prevented the junction of G-eneral Mercy 
 and the duke of Lorraine, whose united forces would have 
 been sufficient to overwhelm him. He was successful, 
 however, in his endeavour to keep them separate, and hav- 
 ing swept the whole country of provisions, he maintained 
 his position between the two armies during the whole of the 
 winter. 
 
 The necessity of reinforcing the imperial troops opposed 
 to those of Sweden, had before the spring forced Greneral 
 
MAESHAL TUEENNE. 231 
 
 Mercy to greatly diminish his forces, and Turenne imme- 
 diately marched to attack him. Mercy retreated before 
 him, and Turenne, carefully snatching each advantage on 
 his way, added a considerable tract of country to that 
 already conquered, pausing not till he had established his 
 head-quarters at Mariendal. Here he determined to await 
 the arrival of reinforcements, and wrongly calculating that 
 the army of General Mercy had separated, he suffered his 
 cavalry to disperse itself in the various villages round 
 about, for the purpose of more easily procuring forage. 
 This fault did not escape the Bavarian general, and collect- 
 ing his troops together, he turned upon Turenne with 
 extraordinary rapidity. The news of his march reached 
 the French just in time to call in some of the detachments ; 
 but General Kosen, to whom the command of the advance 
 had been given by Turenne, neglecting to take advantage 
 of a strong position, which might have been defended till 
 the whole of the French forces were re-assembled, Turenne 
 found himself obliged to give battle with inferior numbers 
 and under various disadvantageous circumstances. The 
 result was that the cavalry, led by Turenne himself, was 
 Tictorious over the right wing of the Bavarians, but at the 
 same time the French infantry, under Eosen, had been 
 <3ompletely defeated and dispersed, and the famous John de 
 Wert had turned the flank of Turenne's cavalry, so that he 
 was obliged to fall back behind a large wood, in the rear of 
 his first line. He was here joined by some of the recalled 
 detachments, and presented a firm face to the enemy, who 
 now paused in the attack. Turenne instantly formed his 
 plan of retreat, and causing the whole of his army to direct 
 their course towards the landgravate of Hesse, he remained 
 with but two regiments to cover the rear. With this small 
 force he succeeded in effecting a retreat, which though dis- 
 astrous and painful, was considered as a most brilliant effort 
 of military skill, and which in some degree compensated 
 for his imprudence at Mariendal. 
 
 By thus turning towards the centre of Germany instead 
 of retreating upon the Ehine, Turenne gained three vast 
 objects. In the first place he drew the enemy away from 
 the late conquests of France, and by placing a strong force 
 in his rear, prevented him from attempting their re-cap- 
 ture ; in the next place he obtained strong reinforcements 
 
232 MAESHAL TFEENNE. 
 
 from the landgrave of Hesse; and in the third he facilitated 
 the junction of a large body of Swedes with his own 
 forces. 
 
 He was now eager to repair his defeat, but Conde was 
 once more despatched into Germany to take command of 
 the army. The great panegyrists of Turenne have attri- 
 buted this fact to some personal enmity which Mazarin, 
 then at the height of power, entertained towards that 
 general: but it appears much more likely that, the minister, 
 alarmed by the defeat of Mariendal, and little competent 
 to judge of military talent, imagined Turenne incapable 
 of commanding a large separate force, and therefore 
 despatched Conde, whose unvaried successes gave brilliant 
 promise for the time to come. Whatever might be the 
 feelings of Turenne, and doubtless they were those of bitter 
 disappointment, that calm sense of duty which formed the 
 great governing principle of all his actions, soon taught 
 him to suppress his individual mortification, and to contri- 
 bute with his whole soul to work out the triumph of his 
 country. 
 
 The campaign that followed, and the victory of Norlin- 
 ghen, will be detailed in the life of Conde ; but we must not 
 forget that Turenne had a mighty share in the success of 
 that day, and that Conde himself could not claim a higher 
 meed for his conduct in the battle itself, though Turenne 
 had opposed the attack in the first place, and declared that 
 it must be unsuccessful. 
 
 The illness of Conde soon obliged him once more to 
 resign the command to Turenne and Grammont, who deter- 
 mined to proceed into Suabia for the purpose of refreshing 
 their troops. Tor some months but little of any conse- 
 quence took place, and the French and Bavarian armies 
 remained in the neighbourhood of each other in a state of 
 inactivity. 
 
 The duke of Bavaria, however, having received consider- 
 able reinforcements from the emperor, the French generals 
 found themselves too weak to maintain their position, and 
 retreated precipitately on the Bhine, w^here they formed 
 their camp under the cannon of Philipsburg. The arch- 
 duke commanding the united forces of the empire and 
 Bavaria, followed close upon their track, but finding them 
 firmly stationed in the open space between the city and the • 
 
MAESHAL TUIIENNE. 23S 
 
 river, he forbore an attack which would have been worse 
 than useless. Turenne felt himself strong enough to main- 
 tain his position with but a small force, and the Marechal 
 de Grammont passed the river in the face of the enemy 
 with a part of the infantry and almost all the cavalry, and 
 proceeded towards Landau. 
 
 After examining the camp of Turenne for several days, 
 the allies, finding it next to impregnable, retired and turned 
 their arms against Yirapfen, which had been made a great 
 magazine for artillery by the Erench. The want of cavalry 
 and the scantiness of his forces obliged Turenne unwillingly 
 to reliuquish a design he entertained of marching to its 
 succour. Vimpfen was taken, and after it almost all the 
 late conquests of France were again captured by the 
 imperial forces. 
 
 The army of the archduke, however, soon separated from 
 that of Bavaria, and though the forces under Grrammont 
 had also quitted Turenne, an opportunity presented itself of 
 striking at least one stroke for France before the close of 
 the campaign. The elector of Treves had been not only 
 deprived of his dominions, but also imprisoned by the allies 
 on account of his attachment to France, and though the 
 first steps of the negotiations for peace held at Munster in 
 1645, had been his liberation, he was not yet restored to 
 his dominions. To reinstate him by force of arms appeared 
 to Turenne not only the surest way of depressing his oppo- 
 nents, but also the best means of strengthening the attach- 
 ment of all the other adherents of France, and of making 
 her enemies more willing to become her friends. 
 
 For this purpose he marched with the utmost rapidity 
 upon Treves, though the winter had already set in, and 
 after a vigorous attack of four days forced that place ta 
 surrender. He then took care so to fortify his conquest 
 that it could not easily be retaken, visited and strengthened 
 all the frontier line on the Moselle, and returned to Paris 
 to enjoy for a time in repose the reward and the glory he 
 had so well merited. 
 
 How his time passed in Paris is only to be told by the 
 different anecdotes related of him in the works of contem- 
 poraries, for his military life alone has been written with 
 anything like minute detail. It is certain, however, that 
 on every occasion the Catholic priesthood exerted all their 
 
234j marshal tueenne. 
 
 powers of persuasion and argument to win so great a man 
 to their own religious faith, and through the whole of the 
 Memoirs of De Eetz, we find that a sort of argumentative 
 persecution was carried on against Turenne, from which it 
 was scarcely possible he could ultimately escape. There 
 was, however, a calm and enduring good sense about 
 Turenne which preserved him long, and though he listened 
 to all the disputes which were carried on in his presence for 
 the purpose of converting him, he replied not, and still rose 
 unconvinced. The most formidable enemy to his Protestant 
 principles was the excellent bishop of Lizeux, whose motive 
 being personal affection, and whose zeal being tempered 
 with the most kindly mildness, attacked the citadel of 
 Turenne' s conscience through the easily opened postern of 
 the heart, at the same time that he made many a fruitless 
 attack upon the well-defended rampart of his understanding. 
 
 The winter, however, passed, and Turenne, still uncon- 
 verted, quitted Paris to join the army on the Ehine. Here, 
 having formed the whole plan of his campaign, and deter- 
 mined, by a junction with the Swedish troops, to oppose an 
 equal force to the imperial and Bavarian army, he was sud- 
 denly stayed in his progress by the commands of Mazarin. 
 After the rupture of the conferences at Munster, the duke of 
 Bavaria had succeeded in deceiving the French minister, by 
 promising that if the army of France would not pass the 
 Jlhine he would refrain from joining the forces of the 
 emperor. In consequence of this, Mazarin commanded 
 Turenne to keep on the Prench bank of the river, and to 
 lay siege to Luxembourg. Turenne, however, was not to 
 be deceived, and though he obeyed so far as the non-passage 
 of the river was concerned, he took care not to undertake a 
 siege which would have ruined the prospects of a war. In 
 the meantime, as Turenne had foreseen, the duke of Bavaria, 
 smiling at having outwitted the wily Italian, marched onward 
 totally unmindful of his promise, and, forming an easy 
 junction with the imperialists, threw himself between the 
 Prench and Swedish forces. Turenne now waited no more 
 commands ; but writing his own intentions to Mazarin, he 
 instantly set out to nullify by his own skill the treachery of 
 the duke of Bavaria. 
 
 He did so completely, though immense difficulties were 
 opposed to him. He forded the Moselle, passed through 
 
MABSHAL TUBENNE. 235 
 
 'the territory of Cologne, forced his way rapidly through a 
 part of Holland, in spite of the slow caution of the Dutch, 
 passed the Ehine, cut across Westphalia, and at length, 
 after one of the most extraordinary marches on record, 
 effected his junction with the Swedes upon the frontiers of 
 Hesse. 
 
 The imperial troops now retreated before him, and 
 passing the river Maine, he continued his march towards 
 ^Frankfort. He was here joined by a large body of infantry, 
 and then, descending the Maine, he took town after town, 
 on his way, in most cases blowing up the fortifications, as 
 his army was not sufficiently strong to permit of his placing 
 garrisons in the captured cities. A road was now opened 
 for him into the heart of Franconia and Suabia, and while 
 the imperial forces remained in thunderstruck inactivity, he 
 marched on from triumph to triumph 
 
 At length the duke of Bavaria found the enemy whom he 
 had deceived, in the heart of his territory. Augsburg 
 was now besieged ; Bain was taken, and had not the archduke 
 advanced with all* speed to the aid of the former, it and 
 Munich would probably have soon fallen into the hands of 
 the French. The imperial army, however, was now swelled 
 by reinforcements, and Turenne was obliged to retire ; but 
 his retreat was more fatal to the cause of Austria than his 
 presence could have been; for falling upon Landsburg, 
 which had been established as a magazine for the imperial 
 troops, he not only recruited his own stores abundantly, 
 but cut off the supplies of the enemy, and forced them to 
 separate and retire into winter quarters. The consequence 
 of this coup-de-mattre was even more important than it 
 seemed at first. The duke of Bavaria, irritated at the 
 coldness with which he had been seconded by Austria, and 
 finding the French army absolutely at his gates, abandoned 
 the interests of the emperor, and entered into a separate 
 treaty with France. 
 
 Several places, even in the heart of his territories, were 
 left as sureties in the hands of the French troops; and 
 Turenne, after having gained a greater extent of country, 
 taken a greater number of fortified cities, and baffled his 
 enemy more completely than perhaps was ever known to 
 have been done before without a single battle being fought, 
 concluded his glorious campaign in Germany, and, by 
 
236 MARSHAL TUIiENNE. 
 
 order of the minister, led his victorious troops towards 
 Planders. 
 
 At Saverne, however, the "Weimarian troops, which formed 
 nearly a third part of the army, revolted at once, both from 
 a disinclination to quit Germany, and from their pay being 
 many months in arrear ; nor could all the efforts of Tarenne 
 prevent them from retreating across the Ehine. Perhaps 
 his conduct on this occasion displayed more firmness, judg- 
 ment, and courage than had appeared in any of his campaigns. 
 He felt that the Weimarians were necessary to the success 
 of the French arms, and, instead of suffering them to depart 
 alone, he despatched the whole of his French troops to join 
 the army in Flanders, and, singly, accompanied the mutineers 
 in their retreat. He persuaded, he threatened, he com- 
 manded ; and after having gone with them as far as Etlin- 
 gen, he caused General E-osen, by whom the sedition was 
 kept alive, to be arrested, won over a great part of the 
 soldiers, charged and dispersed the remainder, and made a 
 number of the most refractory prisoners. 
 
 After this he proceeded, as he had beeil directed, towards 
 Luxembourg ; but by this time the affairs of Flanders had 
 taken a new aspect, and all Turenne effected was a diversion 
 in favour of the other generals commanding in that country. 
 He then received permission to re-enter Germany ; and, 
 having again formed his junction with the troops of Sweden, 
 he once more passed into Bavaria ; and though harassed in 
 his designs by the interested machinations of the Swedes 
 with whom he was joined, he succeeded in desolating the 
 whole of that country. Thus some of the finest districts in 
 Germany were laid waste ; and, however much the interest 
 of his own sovereign might demand such extremities against 
 its enemies, we may be permitted to regret that Turenne, 
 who was the most humane of men towards his soldiers, 
 showed no one remorseful feeling — no humane consideration 
 — towards those who, though his adversaries, were still his 
 fellow-creatures. Fire and the sword, plunder and rapine, 
 raged through four months without one check ; and when the 
 peace of Westphalia at length came to suspend hostilities,, 
 the scene of Turenne's marches was a desert. 
 
 It would occupy far too great space even to touch upon 
 the wars of the Fronde, of which we are about to treat in 
 the life of Conde. Suffice it that therein Turenne had his 
 
MAESHAL TUEENNE. 237 
 
 share with the rest in the follies, the madnesses, the defeats, 
 ^nd the successes that were alternately the meed of all 
 parties. In the first war of Paris we find him wishing; to 
 act as an armed mediator between the court and the Par- 
 liament; and shortly after we see him deprived of his 
 command, and seeking refuge in Holland. After the im- 
 prisonment of Conde, again we find him raising an army to 
 release him, leaguing with Spain, becoming general -in-chief 
 of the Spanish forces, and suffering a defeat at Ehetel. 
 Peace, however, again succeeded ; and in exchange for the 
 principality of Sedan, which had been yielded by the duke 
 of Bouillon, and had never been in any way compensated, 
 there were now ceded some of the most valuable domains in 
 the gift of the crown, comprising the duchies of Albret, and 
 Chateau Thierri, and the counties of Auvergne and Evreux. 
 
 Turenne now returned to Paris, and for some time lived 
 there in great retirement, according to De Betz. The civil 
 war, however, was soon re-lighted ; and we find that 
 Turenne now took the part of the court against Conde, 
 and adhered thereto, through every change of fortune, till 
 he once more brought the king back in triumph to Paris, 
 and terminated the civil wars of the Fronde. 
 
 About this time took place his marriage with Made- 
 moiselle de Caumont, only daughter of the duke de la Force. 
 She is represented as having been mild, amiable, and affec- 
 tionate ; but those were not times when domestic virtues 
 were greatly prized ; neither could Turenne remain to enjoy 
 her society for any length of time, for a Conde was now in 
 the field, commanding the armies of Spain against France, and 
 a Turenne was needed to defend the native country of both. 
 
 The campaigns that followed will be hereafter described ; 
 and therefore we shall pass at once to the treaty of the 
 Pyrenees, which permitted Conde to return, and terminated 
 the operations of the two greatest generals of the day against 
 each other. It is said that, as a recompense for his great 
 services, Louis XIY., now arrived at the age of manhood, 
 offered to revive in favour of Turenne the dignity of con- 
 stable of France, upon the sole condition of his embracing 
 the Eoman Catholic religion. Turenne, however, declined ; 
 and Louis, who knew how to appreciate such firm integrity, 
 created a new title of honour in his favour, appointing him 
 Marshal- General of the Camps and Armies of the King. 
 
238 MAESHAL TUEEKNE. 
 
 Turenne now followed the young monarcli to St. Jean de 
 Luz, whither the court repaired to solemnize the marriage 
 of Louis with the infanta of Spain. It was on this occasion 
 that Philip IV., hearing that he was present, desired to see 
 the general who had so often fought against his armies ; and 
 on Turenne being presented to him, he said, after gazing on 
 him in silence for some minutes, *^ So this is the man who 
 has made me pass so many a sleepless night? " 
 
 The days of Turenne now rolled on in peace. ]N"egotia- 
 tions and counsels succeeded the more active enterprises in 
 which he had been engaged. His views were generally ful- 
 filled ; and the first thing which broke the calm of his tran- 
 quillity was the early death of his wife, for whom he seems 
 to have entertained a sincere affection, and whom he mourned 
 with more bitter sorrow than was often, in that day, poured 
 upon the broken bonds of connubial intercourse. The course 
 of his thoughts, however, was soon diverted by the war which, 
 arising between Holland and England, quickly spread to 
 the neighbouring states. Peace was speedily concluded 
 between the powers which had originally commenced the 
 war ; but the preparations of France still continued ; and it 
 was soon found that Louis had other views than those he at 
 first pretended to entertain. The conquest of Flanders now 
 became his declared object, and, with Turenne to aid him, 
 the king declared that he would carry on the war in person. 
 To be ambitious of every kind of glory is the first grand 
 principle of a great monarch. Many other qualities are of 
 course required to give just efiect to that vast motive ; but 
 it must exist before a king can be a great one in the eyes of 
 the world. Louis XIV., though lamentably deficient in the 
 mental means of winning great glory, had more than any 
 man, perhaps, the powerful desire ; and his life afforded a- 
 wonderful example of what that desire alone can effect. 
 His first campaign, which we may say was fought under 
 Turenne, was crowned with success, and the strong city of 
 Lille was the f»uit of victory. The negotiations which fol- 
 lowed, and the threatening aspect of the surrounding nations, 
 brought about a peace ; but it was stipulated that, in return 
 for Franche Comte, which Conde had lately conquered, and 
 which was to be restored, Spain should leave in the hands 
 of Louis the whole of French Flanders, with Courtrai^, 
 Bergues, and Fumes. 
 
MAESHAL TUEE5NE. 230 
 
 Thus ended the first short campaign of Louis XIY., and 
 Turenne returned to Paris. Shortly after he professed him- 
 self a convert to the Eoman Catholic religion. Though ho 
 had hitherto resisted all reasonings and persuasions, he at 
 length yielded, it is said, to the arguments of the famous 
 Eossuet ; and no sooner was he convinced than he owned 
 his conviction. His change of opinion is also attributed to 
 another cause, namely, the personal knowledge he acquired, 
 in this part of his life, of the multitude of sects into which 
 the people of England were at that time divided, as well as 
 of the various absurdities and blasphemies which the com- 
 plete licence of the Church had brought about. Whatever 
 might be the cause, Turenne abjured the Protestant reli- 
 gion ; and the only thing we can wonder at is, that, sur- 
 rounded by its enemies, pressed by interest, friendship, 
 persuasion, argument, and the wishes of a king, he resisted 
 so long and so strongly, when he would have triumphed by 
 yielding, and when weakness would have met with both 
 honour and reward. 
 
 The pretences for warfare are almost always so false that 
 it is hardly ever necessary to name them in history, without 
 it be for the purpose of recording human insincerity. Louis 
 XIV. determined to attack Holland, and assembling an 
 immense army for the purpose, he separated it into four 
 grand divisions, the command of one of which was of course 
 bestowed upon Turenne. To detail the operations of the 
 army of Turenne would be little better than a catalogue of 
 successful sieges, where the feebleness of the defence left 
 little to interest posterity. Town after town was taken, 
 province after province invaded, and at the end of summer 
 1672, the only defence remaining to the States of Holland 
 were the friendly waters which had so often protected them 
 against their oppressors. At the same time, however, 
 England, jealous of the progress of France, remonstrated 
 against any farther advance, and embarrassed the councils 
 of Louis. Overtures were made towards peace ; but the 
 demands of both the Erench and English monarchs were sa 
 exorbitant, that the Dutch, notwithstanding their dangerous 
 situation, courageously rejected them with indignation, and 
 called upon the surrounding nations to aid them in their 
 necessity. The princes of G-ermany rose at their appeal, 
 and while Louis himself retired to Paris, Turenne was left 
 
240 MAESHAL TURENNE. 
 
 as generalissimo of the whole army, to defend the conquests 
 which had been made, and to meet the storm that was 
 gathering in the east. The elector of Brandenburg first 
 advanced upon the lihine ; and, shortly after, the imperial 
 -army marched in the same direction ; but Cond«, in Alsace, 
 and Turenne, in La Marck, so well combined their measures, 
 that although the two armies opposed to them formed their 
 Junction, and for three months attempted to pass the river, 
 that object could never be accomplished. The imperial 
 forces then turned upon Westphalia, followed step by step 
 by Turenne, who, with his usual skill, wearied out his 
 enemies, and with very inferior forces took town after 
 town as he proceeded, until the troops of the empire, 
 exhausted, diminished, and terrified at their persevering 
 and indefatigable enemy, retreated precipitately, and left 
 Turenne to establish himself quietly in the district of 
 La Marck. 
 
 Though Turenne suffered his troops to pillage with some- 
 what of licentious good •humour, and laid the conquered 
 <30untries under contribution with far more consideration 
 •for the victors than the vanquished, personal cupidity had 
 no share in his conduct. He loved his soldiers as a father, 
 overlooked their faults with a partial eye, and did more for 
 them than he would have done for himself; but no share of 
 the plunder ever found its way to his hands. Two anecdotes 
 of his disinterestedness are attached to the campaign we 
 have just described. On one occasion an officer of rank 
 <3ame to propose to him a plan for gaining four hundred 
 thousand francs in a few days, without the possibility of the 
 transaction being known. Turenne heard him with his 
 usual mildness, and then replied : " I am much obliged to 
 you ; but having often found similar opportunities without 
 taking advantage of them, I do not think it would be worth 
 while to change my conduct at my time of life." 
 
 The inhabitants, also, of one of the towns towards which 
 he was marching, sent out to offer him a hundred thousand 
 <3rowns, if he would take another road. Turenne replied, 
 that their town was not precisely in the line of march, and 
 therefore he could not accept their money. 
 
 Success had hitherto followed the arms of Prance ; but 
 success was of course accompanied by the jealousy of the 
 nations around. Though the elector of Brandenburg 
 
MAESHAL TTTEENNE. 24(1 
 
 gladly concluded a treaty of peace with Louis, the emperor 
 made greater efforts than ever in favour of Holland. At 
 the same time Spain joined its interests with the Dutch, 
 and declared war against Prance, while the prince of 
 Orange, with all the energetic talent of his race, finding 
 himself supported by two great powers, roused himself at 
 once from the inert defence which was all he could hitherto 
 oppose to the French, effected his junction with the Spanish 
 troops marching to his aid from the Low Countries, and 
 directed his course to the strong town of Bonn. In the 
 mean while Montecuculi, who commanded the Imperial 
 troops, advanced to the Ehine, deceived Turenne by an art- 
 ful stratagem, and joined the prince of Orange at Coblentz. 
 Bonn was immediately besieged and taken. The French 
 troops were obliged to evacuate Holland, and Turenne, 
 recalled to court, distributed his troops in winter quarters, 
 and returned to Paris. 
 
 During the whole of the campaigns which we have just 
 detailed, the famous Louvois, who would have been a great 
 minister had he not been the most arrogant of men, had 
 embarrassed the measures of both Conde and Turenne by 
 orders which, conceived at a distance from the scene of 
 action, were always inapplicable on their arrival. The two 
 generals had agreed to remonstrate with Louis XIY. on 
 the conduct of his minister, but Conde, at the earnest soli- 
 citation of Louvois' relatives, abandoned his intention. 
 Turenne, however, persisted in his determination from a 
 sense of what was due to his country. "With the noble 
 moderation, however, which was one of tne greatest traits 
 in his character, he suffered no personal resentment to 
 mingle with his nobler motives. 
 
 In one of those private interviews which Louis often 
 granted him, the king himself spoke of Louvois, and the 
 bad consequences which had been produced by his interfer- 
 ence in the affairs of war. Turenne took advantage of the 
 occasion, spoke of the talents of Louvois as they deserved ; 
 but, remarking that the minister knew too little of war to 
 direct its operations, made it his request that Louis would 
 suffer him to obey no orders but his own. 
 
 Another anecdote is told of Turenne, which may as well 
 be repeated in this place, as it shows that grand and 
 
242 MARSHAL TTJEENNE. 
 
 lionourable candour which is one of the noblest qualities of 
 the noblest minds. During the time that Louis XIV., 
 abandoned by all his allies, had to struggle alone against 
 the united power of Europe, he employed Turenne to carry 
 on a secret negotiation with Charles II. of England, for the 
 purpose of detaching that monarch from the famous triple 
 alliance. This transaction was conducted through the inter- 
 vention of the Princess Henrietta of England, who had 
 married the duke of Orleans. In the suite of that princess 
 was a lady of whom Turenne, in the course of frequent and 
 continued intercourse, became enamoured, and with a 
 culpable weakness he revealed to her the object of his 
 negotiations with her mistress. The lady, of course, in 
 turn, confided the secret of her ancient lover to a younger 
 one, and he betrayed it to the duke of Orleans, from whom 
 it had been kept studiously concealed. The duke reproached 
 his brother, Louis XIY., with want of confidence ; and 
 Louis, who had only entrusted the knowledge of his plan to 
 Louvois and Turenne, doubting the discretion of the minis- 
 ter, but firmly confident in the general, complained bitterly 
 to Turenne of the supposed misconduct of Louvois. With- 
 out a moment's hesitation, Turenne acknowledged his 
 fault, and shielded his enemy from the wrath he had not 
 deserved, by calling it upon his own head. Louis appre- 
 ciated his magnanimity, and received his confession as full 
 compensation for his offence; but Turenne himself never 
 ceased to regret the event, and to redden whenever the 
 subject was approached. It is said that in after years the 
 chevalier de Loraine, to whom the secret had been betrayed 
 by Turenne' s frail confidante, happened to mention the 
 circumstance to the great general. " Stop, stop a moment!" 
 Turenne exclaimed as the other began, " let me first put 
 out the candles ! " 
 
 Erance was now destitiit4i) of allies, but Louis still main- 
 tained not only his hopes of successfully defending himself, 
 but also expectation of new conquests. His first attempt 
 was again upon Eranche Comte, which had been given back 
 to Spain at the last peace. Here his success was complete, 
 owing, in some degree, to the wise precaution of covering 
 his measures in that district by a strong army on theEhine 
 commanded by Turenne. No sooner, however, was the 
 conquest of Eranche Comte complete, than Turenne pro- 
 
MAIISHAL TURENNE. 243 
 
 -ceeded to more active measures; and bemg once more in 
 presence of the Imperial armies, a campaign of long and 
 complicated manoeuvres again began, which would be far too 
 tedious to detail. In this campaign, however, two general 
 battles took place, one at Sintzheim, and one at Ensheim ; 
 and though neither were in any degree decisive, yet the 
 advantage, in both instances, certainly rested with the 
 French. The retreat of the Imperial army, after the first 
 of these battles, laid open to the troops of France the 
 whole of the Palatinate ; and we are sorry to say that the 
 advantage taken of the opportunity reflected no honour 
 upon Turenne himself. 
 
 The country was not only l^id waste, swept of all its 
 produce, and left desolate and naked, but the peasantry 
 were slaughtered, and the villages and hamlets, and smaller 
 towns burnt with unsparing cruelty. The Palatine wrote a 
 letter full of bitter reproaches to Turenne, who replied by 
 declaring that these crimes had been committed by the 
 soldiery without his knowledge or consent, in revenge for 
 some cruel aggressions on the part of the peasantry. He 
 even proceeded to punish some of the offenders ; but stili, 
 unhappily, the fact of most glaring barbarities having taken 
 place in the Palatinate by the army under his command 
 remains as a deep stain upon the memory of Turenne. No 
 general could so easily have prevented it as he could, for no 
 one ever possessed more power over his troops ; he did not 
 prevent it, and therefore the crime was his. 
 
 Por some time Turenne made considerable progress 
 against the Imperial forces, but at length, the German 
 army having increased to nearly sixty thousand men, 
 Turenne laid down for himself a plan for defeating them in 
 detail, which he communicated to the court, and then pro- 
 ceeded to put it in execution. His intention was — to use 
 his own words — to pretend no longer to be able or willing 
 to resist the Imperial forces, and to retire into the heart of 
 Loraine. The enemy, he then foresaw, would spread them- 
 selves out through Alsace, giving him the opportunity of 
 attacking them in their various quarters before they could 
 imagine he would be ready to annoy them : and by this 
 means he hoped to drive them once more across the Ehine. 
 The whole plan was completely successful ; the enemy were 
 
 E 2 
 
244 MAESHAL TFEENNE. 
 
 outmanoeuvred, and defeated in detail; and having onca 
 more driven them across the Erench frontier, Turenne 
 returned to Paris, anxious, if possible, to retire from the 
 anxious and fatiguing life he led, and to finish his days in 
 tranquillity and peace. The dangerous situation of his 
 country, however, still had an undeniable claim upon his 
 services, and early in the spring Turenne returned to the 
 frontier, to oppose the famous Montecuculi, now universally 
 acknowledged one of the greatest generals of the day. 
 There existed between the characters of the two officers,, 
 thus brought into individual opposition to each other, a 
 singular similarity, as well in age as in talent and experience. 
 Turenne was calm, thoughtful, moderate, trusting more to 
 skill than to ardour, clear-sighted, persevering, and beloved 
 by his soldiers. The same words might be precisely ap- 
 plied to Montecuculi ; and thus, with nearly equal forces,, 
 talents, experience, and opportunity, they now met with 
 none to restrain their movements or to shackle their 
 genius. 
 
 The campaign that followed was as brilliant a one as tha 
 most profound skill and tactical knowledge could make it.. 
 Turenne, by passing the Hhine, had carried the war into the 
 enemy's country, and menaced the frontier circles of G-er- 
 many. Montecuculi made every effort to force him to 
 repass the river, but in vain : stratagem after stratagem, and 
 art exceeding art, were tried by each general to circumvent 
 his adversary. Turenne was resolved not to repass the 
 Ehine without fighting, and Montecuculi seemed deter- 
 mined to force him to do so by cutting off his supplies and 
 harassing his troops. At length, the famine which began 
 to manifest itself in the Trench camp obliged Turenne to 
 change his position ; but the change on which he determined 
 was anything but to pass the E,hine, and he advanced upon 
 Montecuculi in order to force him to a battle. Montecuculi, 
 however, retired at his approach, still watching in his re- 
 treat for some favourable opportunity of attacking any 
 detached portion of the French army. So passed their 
 march for several days, till at length, almost at the same 
 time, the French and Grerman forces appeared on either side 
 of the little town of Saspach, near Acheren. Montecuculi, 
 however, occupied the strongest ground, having taken up 
 his position upon the slope of a hill well defended with 
 
MARSHAL TURENNE. 245 
 
 liedges and low woods, while a rivulet flowing through some 
 deep ravines lay in front of the infantry, and the church of 
 Saspach formed a strong advanced post at a little distance 
 from the general line. 
 
 Turenne calmly examined every part of the enemy's posi- 
 tion, and for some time seemed to deem it almost unattack- 
 able. At length, however, in reconnoitring their left, he 
 discovered that they had left a defile unguarded, and re- 
 mained for some time silently calculating all the chances 
 which that error threw in his favour. He w^as then heard 
 to say, " ^Tis done ivith tJiem ; I have them now : they cannot 
 escape me : now tve shall gather the fruit of this laborious 
 campaign / " 
 
 After remarking for some time a movement and agitation 
 which was evident in the enemy's army, and which was 
 -caused in fact by the preparations for a retreat, Turenne 
 retired to breakfast and rest himself beneath a tree. Either 
 from a conviction that the enemy could not escape, or from 
 some other cause, Turenne remained longer than usual in- 
 active, and he was still seated beneath the tree when he was 
 informed that the enemy's infantry were seen making a 
 movement towards the mountains. He instantly rose, and 
 springing upon his horse, proceeded to a slight eminence, to 
 ascertain the cause of the motion which had been observed. 
 At this time the Imperial army was keeping up a heavy fire 
 npon the French position, in order to conceal the retreat 
 which they were attempting to efi*ect undisturbed, and 
 Turenne, commanding all his attendants to remain behind, 
 advanced alone. " Stay where you are, nephew," he said 
 ^even to the duke d'Elboeuf ; " by turning round and round 
 me you will cause me to be recognized by the enemy." 
 
 A little farther on he met the Lord Hamilton, then serv- 
 ing in the French army, and paused to speak with him. 
 " Come this way, my lord marshal," said the Scotch noble- 
 man, "they are firing in that direction." — " I do not intend 
 to be killed this day," replied Turenne, with a smile, and 
 rode on. A moment after, he was met by the commander- 
 in-chief of the artillery, named St. Hilaire, who called his 
 attention to a battery he had caused to be constructed near 
 the spot, and held out his hand to point out some particular 
 oobject. 
 
 Turenne reined his horse a step or two back, when srd- 
 
246 MAESHAL TUHENNE. 
 
 denly a canon-ball carried off the arm of St. Hilaire, and,, 
 passing on, struck Turenne in the midst of the stomach* 
 His face fell forward instantly, and his horse feeling his 
 hand relax its grasp of the reins, turned its head, and gal- 
 loped back to the staff, where Turenne fell dead into the 
 arms of his attendants, on the twenty-seventh of July, 
 
 167e5. 
 
 The consternation which spread through the army was 
 dreadful. The soldiers, who loved Turenne almost to adora- 
 tion, demanded clamorously to be led against the enemy in 
 order to avenge his death, shouting loudly to turn out his 
 horse, la Fie, before the ranks, and she would bring them, 
 they asserted, right to the foe. The general officers, how- 
 ever, held a council, in which terror and haste reigned much 
 more than sense and resolution. The French army retreated, . 
 the Imperial troops advanced, and all that the skill, the 
 wisdom, and perseverance of Turenne had gained for France, . 
 was lost again by his death. 
 
 Voltaire has compared Turenne to Gonzalves de Cordoba, 
 the great captain, and in their military character there is 
 certainly a great resemblance. Each had skill, patience,, 
 perseverance, calmness, and judgment. But in private life 
 no two men could be more strikingly different. Turenne 
 was anything but brilliant in conversation, and no way re- 
 markable for the graces of his person, either natural or ac- 
 quired. He was mild, tranquil, even retiring, hating pomp 
 and display, giving no signs of quickness of apprehension, 
 and loving reflection and solid sense far more than brilliancy 
 and wit. It will easily be seen, by the account we have 
 already given of Gonzalves, that though the great qualities 
 of these two generals might be the same, their faults and 
 their failings were entirely opposite. 
 
 The character given of Turenne by the cardinal de Eetz 
 is probably nearer to the truth than any other, because it 
 was drawn from the life by an acute observer, who in this 
 rhstance had no object in deceiving. 
 
 " Monsieur de Turenne," says De Eetz, " had from his 
 youth upwards all the good qualities, and very, very early 
 he acquired all the great ones. He w^anted none but those 
 which he did not know of. He had all the virtues as natural 
 gifts, without having the tinsel of any of them. It has been 
 thought that he was more capable of commanding an army 
 
MAHSnAL TUEENNE. 247 
 
 than leading a party, and I believe so also, because he was 
 naturally not enterprising ; — nevertheless, who can say ? In 
 himself, as well as in his conversation, there was always a 
 certain something of obscurity, which never developed itself 
 except in great opportunities, but then always developed 
 itself to his glory." 
 
 Such is the picture of Turenne as drawn by De Betz ; and 
 it may further be said, that in his communication with 
 others he was always mild and gentle. He had none of the 
 pride of wealth, of rank, or of talent. It is said, that being 
 applied to by some mechanics, who did not know him, to 
 measure a disputed distance, he did so with his cane, and on 
 the one to whose opinion he was unfavourable declaring he 
 did not judge fairly, he knelt down and measured the ground 
 over again. He was far less severe on others than on him- 
 self; and however great was the fault he committed, he was 
 ever ready to acknowledge and to atone. 
 
 Such was Turenne. We have already seen what he was 
 as a general ; and the few traits here given of his private 
 life may serve better to tell what he was as a man than the 
 most long and laboured description. The greatest tribute to 
 the memory of Turenne was the grief and consternation that 
 spread through Prance on the tidings of his death. " Every 
 one seeks the other to speak of Monsieur de Turenne," 
 says Madame de Sevigne ; " they crowd together. Yester- 
 day all were in tears in the streets— every other business 
 was suspended ; " and again, " The news [of the death of 
 Turenne] arrived at Yersailles on Monday. The king was 
 afflicted as one ought to be on the death of the greatest 
 
 captain and most excellent man in the world Never 
 
 was man regretted so sincerely. All the quarter where he 
 lived ; the whole of Paris ; the whole people, wherein trou- 
 ble and emotion. Every one spoke and crowded but to 
 regret the hero." 
 
218 
 
 THE GHEAT CONDE. 
 
 Born in 1621 — Sent to the College of Bourges — Appears at court- 
 Makes his first campaign — Marries the niece of Richelieu — Battle 
 of Eocroy — Siege and capture of Thionville and Fribourg — Philips- 
 burg, Worms, and other towns taken — In conjunction with Turenne 
 gains the battle of Norlinghen — Wars of the Fronde — Arrested — 
 His liberation — Raises the standard of revolt — Civil wars— Leaves 
 France and enters the service ot Spain — Restored to his honours and 
 estates — Dies in retirement, December 11, 1686— His character. 
 
 To conquer the difficulties of an inferior station, and not 
 only to tread the path to renown, but to form it for oneself 
 — to hew it out through the thousand stumbling-blocks 
 of misfortune — to carry it up over the mountain-like 
 obstacles of continual competition under adverse circum- 
 stances ; and to clear it of all the tangling thorns of 
 poverty and distress, is certainly the most difficult of under- 
 takings and the most glorious of triumphs. 
 
 There are, nevertheless, dangers and obstacles attached 
 also to high station, which, besetting it in the outset, 
 attack the mind in its infant feebleness, and, like the 
 serpent-enemies of the young Hercules, threaten to destroy 
 great endeavour in its childhood. 
 
 Those who are born to wealth and rank have, it is 
 true, greater means of success ; but they have less incite- 
 ment to enterprise. They have fewer impediments to 
 overcome in the course; but the prize is to them less 
 valuable in proportion. Por this reason we rarely hear 
 of the sons of great men equalling their fathers — they 
 have greatness, they have no occasion to strive for it. 
 Thus, in their case, the love of fame, and honour, and 
 virtue — or, in other words, the aspiration after greatness 
 — is divested of all the accessory stimulants to exertion 
 which the desire of wealth and consideration furnishes 
 to the humbler classes ; and w^hen, to the absence of 
 all such incitement, we add the corrupting influence of 
 luxury, early indulgence, adulation, and bad example, it 
 
THE GREAT COKDE. 24i9 
 
 is only wonderful that the higher ranks of society — a 
 •class infinitely small when compared with the lower ranks 
 — should have produced such a multitude of men who have 
 added the real distinction of great deeds to the fictitious one 
 of high station. The struggle to them is less difficult when 
 once undertaken ; but the undertaking itself must generally 
 originate in the purer kinds of ambition. The indolence of 
 prosperity, the pride of rank, the self-sufficiency of wealth, 
 must each be overcome before a man of high fortune starts 
 forward to become great by his own actions, and mingles 
 himself with a contending crowd of all classes and con- 
 ditions. He begins, indeed, the race at the middle of the 
 -course ; but he must first leap a high barrier to reach it ; 
 mid then the steps he has to take are the steepest and the 
 most slippery of all those that lead to the goal of glory. 
 
 Louis de Bourbon, afterwards known by the name of the 
 Great Conde, was born at Paris in 1621, heir to the 
 illustrious house of Conde, and son of the first prince of the 
 blood royal of Erance. 
 
 He had an illustrious name to sustain, and a great 
 station in society to fill; and his father seems to have been 
 fully impressed with the fact, that high birth and ancestry, 
 so far from freeing us from any of the ties of virtue, impose 
 upon us stricter duties ; and that those things which 
 in other men are but faults, in the great become crimes. 
 
 There is a virtue that we owe the dead in return for any 
 inheritance of glory they may have left us, and a virtue that 
 we owe the living for the respect that they show to us for 
 our descent from the dead. Such should be the feeling of 
 every man who looks back with pride to his ancestors, and 
 such seems to have been the sentiment of the prince de 
 Oonde in the education of his son. 
 
 It is only by implication, however, that we can discover 
 what this early education was, for but few facts are recorded 
 of the boyish years of Conde, then duke d'Enghien, and 
 these facts are recorded by a hand which had the plea of 
 consanguinity to excuse partiality. Nevertheless, though 
 the details are lost, sufficient remains to show what was the 
 general principle by which his education was conducted. 
 We find that his father almost always superintended it 
 himself, and we find that it was productive of the deepest 
 respect, on the part of the son, towards his parent. Such 
 
250 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 an education never could have been bad ; bufc, besides thisy 
 we have many other causes to suppose that it was vigorous 
 and judicious. In that age, when the privileges of nobility 
 were uncontested, and any one who claimed kindred with 
 royalty was worshipped with criminal adulation, one of the 
 greatest mental evils to be guarded against was pride, 
 the most impassable barrier in the way of greatness. 
 
 Probably with a view of correcting the natural tendency 
 of the mind to that weakness, the duke d'Enghien was 
 sent, at an early age, to the college of Bourges, where little 
 or no distinction was permitted between himself and his 
 school-fellows ; and to teach him to govern the passionate 
 ardour with which he was constitutionally disposed to 
 follow every pursuit and amusement, we often find his 
 father breaking abruptly through his sports and pleasures, 
 and from the beginning teaching him, who was destined to 
 command others, the first rudiments of that great science, 
 in the habit of commanding himself. The most painful of 
 the sacrifices which he directed him to make, was the 
 resignation of his hunting-equipage; but though, in 
 common with almost all men who have distinguished 
 themselves in war, he was passionately attached to the 
 . chase, he yielded ready obedience to his father's commands, 
 and even acknowledged that he had pursued that amuse- 
 ment with more ardour than any sport deserved. 
 
 "When first withdrawn from the studies of youth, and 
 introduced at the dim and faded court of Louis XIII., the 
 duke d'Enghien found the splendour, as well as the weight 
 of royal authority, transferred from the feeble hands of the 
 monarch, to those of his great but cruel and ambitious 
 minister, Eichelieu, and his ardent and impetuous spirit 
 seems to have burned within him at the usurpation to 
 which others tamely submitted. At the same time, how- 
 ever, he found the interests of his father inseparably united 
 to those of Eichelieu, and he appears to have lived in a 
 continual struggle with himself to prevent his indignation 
 from breaking forth in any of those rough and uncere- 
 monious sallies to which, on other occasions and with other 
 persons, he was too apt to give way. 
 
 For the purpose, probably, of removing him from the 
 dangerous proximity of the minister, whose jealousy was 
 of the most irritable as well as of the most vindictive nature. 
 
TnE GREAT CONDE. 251 
 
 the young duke d'Enghien was sent by his father, then 
 governor of Burgundy, to supply his place in that province, 
 though he had not yet passed his eighteenth year. In the 
 following spring also (a.d. 1640) he was permitted to 
 make his first campaign under the celebrated Marshal 
 Meilleraye, and soon gave proofs of that extraordinary 
 genius for war which his whole life so strongly developed. 
 
 He returned to the court with a reputation ah^eady 
 formed, but many disappointments and vexations awaited 
 him there. The nobility of Prance had, after repeated 
 struggles, fallen completely before the ascendency of E-iche- 
 lieu ; and it was hardly to be expected that when the king 
 himself had become his slave, the princes of the blood- 
 royal should be less than his servants. The prince of 
 Conde, then, the father of the young warrior, had already 
 made a thousand sacrifices to the ambition, the pride of the 
 minister, and his own cupidity ; and on the return of hi& 
 son from the campaign in Flanders, a new concession 
 was demanded of him, and he made it, by marrying 
 D'Enghien to Clara de Breze, the niece of the cardinal de 
 Hichelieu. 
 
 Discontented with a marriage in which his dignity was as^ 
 much hurt as his inclinations were little consulted, the prince 
 absented himself as far as he could from a court where he 
 found himself out of place, and spent the greater part of his 
 time amongst those great and agitating scenes for which 
 he was born. Honour and success attended all his steps, 
 and very shortly after, the death of Eichelieu broke the 
 chain that manacled every noble spirit in Erance, and left 
 him, amongst others, free to act upon an enlarged stage.. 
 His father, the prince of Conde, resumed the place which 
 his birth and character should have preserved to him from 
 the first ; and D'Enghien himself was appointed general-in- 
 chief of the army of Champagne and Picardy. 
 
 He had not yet reached his one-and-twentieth year, and, 
 notwithstanding the valour and talents he had already 
 displayed, his genius was still not justly appreciated, either 
 by his friends or his adversaries. The command bestowed 
 upon him was merely a mark of consideration for his rank 
 and family, and the old marechal de THopital was joined 
 with him, to correct the errors which it was anticipated he- 
 would commit, and to cool the boiling impetuosity of un* 
 
-252 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 tried youth with the chill and tardj deliberation of age and 
 experience. 
 
 Committing the ever-fatal fault of undervaluing his 
 enemy, Don Francisco de Mello, the Spanish general, had 
 advanced into Champagne and laid siege to Bocroy, 
 counting wrongly that the ardour of the young duke would 
 lead him into errors of one kind, and rightly that the 
 tardiness of the old general would be productive of errors 
 of another cast ; so that the experiment of a divided com- 
 mand would have its usual unhappy effect upon the French 
 -army, and that, instead of the character of the one cor- 
 recting the character of the other, their united faults would 
 ruin both. 
 
 D'Enghien, however, depended but upon himself; and, 
 having the power, he resolved to use it on his own respon- 
 sibility, taking at once his determination to relieve Eocroy 
 .and give battle to the Spanish army, without seeking the 
 more timid counsels of his cautious coadjutor. 
 
 Grreat deeds must be attempted boldly to succeed, and 
 the very circumstances which seemed to throw additional 
 obstacles in the way of the French were precisely those in 
 which the ardour and enterprise of a young and fiery spirit 
 were calculated to be successful. Had victory depended on 
 -cautious manoeuvring and wary observation, the impetu- 
 osity of the duke d'Enghien might have proved his ruin, 
 but here there were difficulties to be boldly overcome, quick 
 and laborious marches to be undertaken, passages and 
 -defiles to be forced at once, and here the genius and the 
 ardour of the young warrior went hand in hand. 
 
 Between Joigny, from which place the French army 
 marched upon E/Ocroy, and the Spanish army which be- 
 sieged it, lay a most defensible tract of country, full of 
 defiles, of woods and marshes, so that in a thousand points 
 the prince might have been taken at a disadvantage in his 
 iidvance. He proceeded rapidly, nevertheless, throwing 
 forward the brave General Grassion, with a part of his 
 disposable forces, for the double purpose of casting supplies 
 into the town, and of reconnoitring the enemy's position 
 and the country in advance. In both these objects Grassion 
 was successful, but the tidings he brought of the difficult 
 nature of the country were sufficient to have daunted a less 
 4ecided mind than that of Conde. 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 253^ 
 
 That obstacles were made but to be overcome is the 
 motto of all great men, and the duke paused not an instant 
 for those that lay before him. On the 17th of May, the 
 Trench army arrived at Eossut, within a day's march of the 
 enemy, from whom it was separated only by a long and 
 difficult defile. 
 
 Here, for the first time, D'Enghien, who had opened his 
 views to no one but Gassion, communicated to the council of 
 war his intention of forcing the enemy to a general battle. 
 "With the brief eloquence of a vigorous mind, he showed 
 the immense advantages to be gained, contrasted with the 
 difficulties to be overcome ; and full of hope and confidence 
 himself, he succeeded in communicating the same bright 
 anticipations to his hearers. Even the marechal de I'Hopi- 
 tal himself acceded to his views, and gave his consent to the 
 attempt, though it is supposed that he did so expecting 
 Don Erancisco de Mello to oppose the passage of the defile, 
 and thus prevent a general engagement. The Spanish 
 general, however, with veteran troops, a strong position, 
 food, and repose upon his side, entertained no doubt jof the 
 issue of the approaching battle. He had more even ta 
 gain by it than the French commander, and he was as 
 confident of his own powers. 
 
 He suffered, therefore, the duke d'Enghien to pass the 
 defile unmolested, and even to take up a position on the 
 other side, though, had he attacked the prince at the 
 moment the cavalry passed, while the infantry and artillery 
 were embarrassed in the ravine, the army of Erance would 
 have been infallibly destroyed. It was one of those faults 
 by which empires are lost and won. 
 
 The time expended, however, in the passage of the infantry 
 and the cannon brought the day nearly to its conclusion, 
 and neither general chose to risk the great object for which 
 he fought upon the chances of a struggle during the night. 
 There was sufficient time, nevertheless, for two egregious 
 faults to be committed before nightfall. Nothing but a 
 small valley separated the two armies. The prince's right, 
 commanded by himself, rested on a wood. The other wing, 
 commanded, under the old marechal de FHopital, by a 
 general officer named La Eerte, touched upon a marsh, to 
 the left of which lay Eocroy. 
 
 La Eerte no sooner perceived that by tacit agreement 
 
25=1 TUE GREAT CONDJE. 
 
 the battle would be deferred till the next morning, than ho 
 formed the idea of throwing aid into Hocroy, and, without 
 consulting any one, proceeded to pass the marsh with his 
 cavalry, leaving the left flank of the army completely ex- 
 posed. The Spanish general instantly saw the fault, and 
 b.astened to take advantage of it ; while D'Enghien, raging 
 with vexation, issued orders for La Ferte to return, and for 
 the reserve to advance and fill up the vacancy in his line. 
 Don Francisco de Mello perceived the movement of the 
 reserve ; and, whether he took La Eerte's folly for a pre- 
 concerted manoeuvre to draw on a battle, or judged that he 
 had not time to profit by it, cannot be told ; but he paused 
 in his attack, gave La Eerte time to re-assume his position, 
 and let the cup of victory once more slip from his hand. 
 
 This error on the left being thus retrieved, the duke 
 d'Enghien gave his orders for the attack next morning; 
 and, having seen that all was prepared, calm in the cer- 
 tainty of his own powers, and fatigued with the eff'orts of 
 the day, he wrapped himself in his cloak by the side of a 
 watch-fire, left fears and anxieties to the timid and the 
 doubting, and slept profoundly through the night. 
 
 His attendants were forced to awaken him next morning 
 for the attack, but all his dispositions having been made the 
 night before, no further delay took place. A few words of 
 encouragement to the soldiers was his only preparations, 
 and then, putting himself at the head of the right wing, he 
 began the battle by the attack of a wood lined with Span- 
 ish musketeers, which defended the flank of the enemy's 
 cavalry, commanded by the duke of Albuquerque. The 
 wood was carried in a moment ; and Greneral G-assion, sweep- 
 ing round it with a strong detachment of horse, attacked 
 the Spanish cavalry in flank, while the prince himself 
 charged them in front, and drove them in disorder over the 
 hill. 
 
 The German and Italian infantry, which formed the 
 strength of the enemy's left wing, were now exposed to all 
 the efforts of the Erench general, and soon shared the fate 
 of the cavalry, giving way in every direction before the 
 impetuosity of the prince's attack. Wherever D'Enghien 
 appeared, victory followed him; and in an amazing short 
 space of time the left wing of the Spaniards was totally 
 routed. JSTot so, however, their right, where De Mello 
 
THE GBEAT COXDK. 255 
 
 fought in person. There success attended the arms of the 
 Spaniards. The marechal de FHopital was not only repelled 
 in his attack, but was driven back from his own position, 
 his infantry cut to pieces, his cannon taken, and his division 
 mingled pell-mell with the body of reserve. 
 
 Such were the tidings brought to the duke d'Enghien, as 
 he followed up the victory he had gained over the enemy's 
 left. With the lightning resolution of mighty genius, his 
 conduct was determined at once. Calling together the 
 whole cavalry of the wing he had commanded, — no longer 
 necessary, from the complete route of the enemy, in that 
 part of the field, — he passed at once behind the whole line of 
 the Spanish infantry, and thundered down upon the rear of 
 De Mello's cavalry, who were following up their advantage 
 against De I'Hopital. Everything gave way before him, 
 and the victorious division of the Spanish array, now con- 
 quered in their turn, were soon dispersed and flying over 
 every part of the field. 
 
 Notwithstanding this signal defeat of both wings of the 
 Spanish army, a formidable body still remained to be van- 
 quished, consisting of the old and renowned Castilian 
 infantry, commanded by the gallant count of Euentez. At 
 the same time news was brought to the prince, that at this 
 very critical moment the German Greneral Beck was ad- 
 vancing to support the Spaniards, with a division of six 
 thousand fresh troops, and was already within sight of the 
 field. Detaching a small force under Gassion, to hold the 
 Imperial general in check, D'Enghien instantly directed his 
 whole energies to overcome the Spanish infantry before any 
 succour could arrive. That celebrated phalanx, almost as 
 celebrated, says Voltaire, as that of ancient Greece, had 
 never yet been broken. Such a renown is doubly terrible — 
 from the confidence with which it inspires those who possess 
 it, and from the dread with which it affects their enemies. 
 To oppose this, D'Enghien led to the charge that cavalry 
 which he had twice conducted to victory in one day. Eut 
 the veteran soldiers of Castillo received his impetuous 
 attack with a firm aspect, and a tremendous fire of musketry, 
 or opening their hollow squares, as was their custom, suf- 
 fered the cannon, which occupied the centre of each bat- 
 talion, to pour forth suddenly a murderous fire upon the 
 approaching cavalry. Three times the French were brought 
 
•256 THE GEE AT CONDE. 
 
 back to the charge by their gallant leader, and three times^ 
 they were repelled from the battalions of Spanish infantry, 
 like waves driven back by a rock. At length D'Enghien, 
 perceiving that the cavalry made little or no impression, 
 commanded the whole of his reserve to advance ; and the 
 Spaniards, finding themselves hemmed in on all sides, made 
 it understood that they demanded quarter. 
 
 At this moment an unhappy mistake produced a dreadful 
 and unnecessary effusion of blood. The duke d'Enghien, 
 seeing and comprehending the signal of the Spanish infantry, 
 rode forward to check the advance of the reserve. The 
 Spaniards, misunderstanding his movement, imagined that 
 he was ordering a fresh attack, and, resuming their arms^ 
 opened a tremendous fire upon the French. They, in their 
 turn, taking this conduct for an act of the basest treachery, 
 charged the enemy in every direction, and the unhappy 
 Spaniards were massacred by thousands. 
 
 It was with infinite difficulty that D'Enghien could put 
 a stop to the fury of the exasperated soldiery, and he was 
 seen at the end of the battle surrounded by the officers of 
 the conquered army, who, clinging to his knees and to his 
 charger, found their only safety near his person. On that 
 field of Eocroy, Conde won his first full harvest of glory ; 
 but — singular as it was, to see a young man in his twentieth 
 year, by the union of courage, and genius, and intuitive 
 skill, defeat three of the best and most experienced generals 
 in Europe, conquer renowned and veteran soldiers with a 
 fatigued array, and transfer at one blow the fame which the 
 Spanish troops had acquired and maintained during two 
 hundred years to the arms of Erance — it was still more 
 singular that this ardent and impetuous youth suffered not 
 eagerness, excitement, or triumph, to carry him into one 
 cruelty or one fault ; that he was ready, the moment that 
 victory was complete, to put an immediate stop to blood- 
 shed, and was instantly prepared to encounter the fresh 
 troops that were said to be advancing against him. 
 
 As he was about to march in order to face General Beck, 
 however, news was brought him which rendered his prepara- 
 tions on that score unnecessary. The fugitive cavalry of 
 the Spanish army had fallen in with the division of Grermans 
 coming to their aid ; and, instead of attempting to rally, had 
 communicated their own panic to their allies, who, joining 
 
THE GREAT COKDB. 257 
 
 in their flight, had abandoned part of the artillery, and 
 retreated with all speed. 
 
 The victory of K-ocroy was thus complete. The French 
 left two thousand men on the field of battle, showing that 
 the Spaniards had not been conquered without a struggle ; 
 but, on the other hand, sixteen thousand Spaniards and Ger- 
 mans of the best troops of the house of Austria fell on the 
 part of Spain. The most considerable officer killed was the 
 old count de Fuentez, the general of the Spanish infantry, 
 who, though overwhelmed with age and sickness, had by his 
 ekill and obstinate valour nearly turned the day in favour of 
 his country. He was found dying beside the litter in which 
 he had been carried to the battle, and when his body was 
 pointed out to Conde, the young warrior exclaimed, " So 
 would I wish to have died, had I not conquered." 
 
 The line of Conde' s ambition was military glory ; and 
 though caprice and the necessity of strong excitement, 
 joined to the persuasions of others, led him in after-years to 
 mingle, and even to lead, in the factions of the day, his true 
 sphere was in the battle-field, his right post at the head of 
 an army. He seems also to have felt that such was the 
 case, and never willingly to have changed the character of a 
 warrior for that of a statesman. 
 
 On the eve of the battle of Hocroy, news had been 
 brought him that the king, Louis XIII., had followed his 
 great minister, Eichelieu, from that busy scene where they 
 had acted together for so many years as ruler and tool, to 
 the awful tribunal of another world. 
 
 All was confusion in Paris. The new monarch as yet an 
 infant, the regency undecided, the government unsettled, 
 and many in the camp, on the very first intelligence, urged 
 the young duke d'Enghien to march his army upon the 
 xjapital, and secure the station of regent in his own family. 
 Conde remained to win the battle of Eocroy, and having 
 won it, remained to complete the glorious campaign he had 
 so triumphantly begun. 
 
 We have paused longer upon this victory than we shall 
 probably do upon any of the many with which Conde 
 wreathed his brow, both because it was the first laurel that 
 ho won individually, and the first that for many years had 
 decorated the arms of France without being immediately 
 
 s 
 
268 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 torn off by some succeeding misfortune. From this time,. 
 however, f ranee took the lead amongst military nations, 
 till the genius of a Marlborough carried up the renown of 
 England above all contemporary people. 
 
 After the victory at Eocroy, Conde, in spite of great op- 
 position at the court, undertook the siege of Thionville. In 
 his march upon that city he showed himself as able a tacti- 
 cian as he was an intrepid warrior ; and after outmanoeu- 
 vring the enemy, he arrived unattacked, and sat down in 
 form before the place. 
 
 During the course of the siege several gross faults were 
 committed by the general officers serving under him ; but 
 Conde was as prompt to see and to remedy the errors of 
 his own party, as he was to take advantage of those of his 
 enemies. General Beck also, whose task it was to attempt 
 to raise the siege, seems to have suffered himself to be daz- 
 zled by the splendid talents of his chief adversary, and not 
 to have even fancied that great follies might be committed 
 by those under his command. 
 
 Thus Thionville was invested on every side, the works 
 carried on against it with rapidity, daring, and perseverance; 
 and, notwithstanding the overflowing of the Moselle, the 
 vigorous resistance of the besieged, and various other pro- 
 tracting circumstances, before two months were over the 
 engineers had succeeded in completely mining the wall, 
 and, report says, had even reached part of the citadel 
 itself. 
 
 It needed but to fire the train, and Thionville would have 
 been at once taken by assault, a circumstance considered 
 in that day even more honourable to the besieging general 
 than a great victory in the open field. Conde, however, felt 
 that he, of all men, needed least to win glory at the sacri- 
 fice of humanity ; and refraining from springing the mine 
 which would have opened the city to assault, he summoned 
 the governor, caused him to be conducted through the 
 works, and suffered him to draw his own conclusions. De- 
 fence was no longer possible, and Thionville was instantly " 
 surrendered, while the laurels that Conde acquired by it» 
 capture were, from the generous humanity he displayed, of 
 the purest that ever bind the brow of victory. 
 
 By the taking of Thionville the whole course of the 
 Moselle lay open to the Trench army. Cond© was not a 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 259 
 
 man to lose sucli advantages, and before returning to Paris, 
 though called thither by the first bright feelings of paternity, 
 he took care to secure with care what his courage and his 
 skill had gained for his country. 
 
 The acclamations of the people in the capital, however 
 gratifying to himself, awakened at the court fears and jea- 
 lousies which caused him to be quickly sent to the field 
 again. Indeed an excuse was soon found for absenting him 
 from Paris, in the reverses which had attended the arms of 
 Prance on the banks of the Ehine ; and after passing fifteen 
 days with his wife and infant son, he was ordered to conduct 
 a reinforcement to the army of Marshal Gruebriant. His 
 presence on the frontier of Grermany restored confidence 
 and success to the army, and, once more returning to Paris, 
 he received as a reward from the queen regent, the govern- 
 ment of Champagne. This charge, of course, again called 
 him from the capital, and he soon after received orders from 
 the court to join the army of the famous Turenne, then 
 already beginning to be celebrated, but who on that occasion 
 found himself obliged to retreat before the superior forces 
 of General Mercy. 
 
 One of the first commanders of that age, Mercy had 
 already forced the Prench to re-tread almost every step they 
 had taken in Germany ; and on Conde's arrival at Brissac, 
 he found Pribourg in the hands of the enemy, and their 
 general intrenched in an almost impregnable position at a 
 little distance from the city. The Bavarian army was supe- 
 rior to his own ; the nature of the country presented every 
 difficulty to an attacking force ; and the German camp was 
 fortified with a double line of trenches and redoubts. But 
 the object to be gained in taking it was immense, — no less 
 than the command of the whole course of the Ehine ; and 
 Conde determined instantly on an attempt to force the 
 position of his adversary. Two simultaneous assaults — one 
 upon a weak spot to the left of Mercy's line, and one in front 
 — were determined upon instantly; and, Turenne having 
 been despatched to the left, at five o'clock (the hour he was 
 expected to be prepared) Conde, seconded by the Marshal 
 de Grammont, scaled the heights under a heavy fire, and 
 attacked the first line of intrenchments. The Bavarian 
 troops to whom the French were opposed, fought the ground 
 
 s 2 
 
260 THE GEEAT COl^D^.. 
 
 inch by incli, and were with infinite difficulty driven from 
 the first line into the second. 
 
 The Trench had sufiered great loss in scaling the heights, 
 and still greater in the contest for the lines ; but when they 
 saw their enemy as strongly intrenched as before, and re- 
 ceiving them with the same murderous fire, and the same 
 firm countenance, they paused in their advance, and, though 
 they attempted not to fly, their officers could not induce 
 them to renew the attack. At that moment Conde arrived 
 on the spot with the Marshal de Grammont, saw the hesita- 
 tion of the troops, and instantly perceiving that something 
 must be done to rouse and inspire them, he sprang from his 
 horse, put himself at the head of one of the regiments, 
 hurled his baton of field-marshal into the midst of the 
 enemy's intrenchments, and, drawing his sword, rushed 
 forward to recover it. The effect was what he expected. 
 There was no more indecision, the whole army charged, and 
 the second of the enemy's lines was carried in a moment. 
 
 The Bavarians, however, were still sheltered by their re- 
 doubts, and before these could be attacked night fell, and put 
 an end to the combat. 
 
 Mercy, though driven back, was not defeated. Turenne, 
 on his side, had not been more completely successful than 
 Conde ; and the next morning found the two armies still in 
 presence, and saw the attack renewed. Still each general 
 maintained his reputation, and, after fighting the whole of 
 that day, a part of the night even was consumed in the 
 •combat without bringing it to a decision. During the three 
 days that followed, the army of France reposed itself. Not 
 ^o the mind of Conde, which, far from startled by the diffi- 
 culties he had encountered, formed the daring project of 
 cutting off" the retreat of the German general, and investing 
 bim in his own camp. Mercy, however, with a soul of the 
 ^ame nature as the prince's, divined his project before its 
 execution, and on the third day began his retreat upon Fel- 
 linghen. It was not, however, suffered to take place in 
 peace. Conde followed ; but though Mercy sacrificed a part 
 of his baggage and artillery rather than be drawn into a gene- 
 ral action, the^ advantages gained over him were not great, 
 .and he eflfected his retreat after some severe skirmishing. 
 
 The victory was certainly Conde's, for he fought for a 
 position, and he gained it ; but the loss upon his side was 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 261 
 
 nearly equal to that of the enemy. The consequences, how- 
 ever, more fully demonstrated his success than even the 
 possession of the field of battle. Philipsburg was taken 
 after a brief but spirited resistance. Worms, Oppenheim, 
 Mayence, Landau, Mayenne, submitted without opposition, 
 and Conde returned to Paris, leaving the whole course of the 
 Ehine in the hands of France. 
 
 On the surrender of Mayence we Mdll pause for a moment 
 to notice a circumstance which called forth the display of 
 other acquirements on the part of the young warrior than 
 those of the soldier. That city, proud of its strength, yet 
 willing to surrender itself to France, refused to yield its 
 keys to Turenne, who had been sent against it, and de- 
 manded the presence of the victor of Eocroy and Fribourg. 
 In consequence of this, Conde presented himself, when the 
 gates w^ere opened to him, and the various learned bodies of 
 the city harangued him in Latin. Perhaps it was little ex- 
 pected in that day that a man who, out of the brief life of 
 three-and-twenty years, had passed so many summers in the 
 tented field, should be able either to comprehend or to 
 answer an address in a dead language ; but however that 
 may be, Conde instantly replied in the Eoman tongue with 
 a fluency and elegance which put to shame the stiff forms 
 of their laboured oration. 
 
 On his return to Paris, the regency being now firmly 
 fixed in the hands of Anne of Austria, and her government 
 entertaining less jealousy, as it was exposed to less danger, 
 Conde seems to have been received with more cordiality and 
 rewarded with more sincerity of gratitude. 
 
 "We shall say little of his stay in Paris at this period, not 
 because materials are wanting, but because there are various 
 circumstances connected with this part of his history the 
 discussion of which is both unpleasant and unnecessary. 
 His eulogists, and those who knew him best, give to this 
 epoch of his life more unlimited praises than even to his 
 conduct as a warrior, stating that he used his great influ- 
 ence for the noblest of purposes, and controlled his own 
 passions to promote the happiness of others. There are 
 others, however, who accuse him of vices and even of crimes : 
 but their accusation is suspicious, inasmuch as it proceeded 
 from persons avowedly his political enemies ; improhahle, from 
 the nature of the charges and the character of the man ; 
 
262 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 and unworthy of lelief, as unsupported by any tangible 
 evidence. As there are few bad men without some virtues, 
 so there are few good or great men without some faults or 
 meannesses ; but he who points out, even truly, the weak- 
 nesses ol the noble, the follies of the wise, or the pettinesses 
 of the great, does a bad service to humanity, by depriving 
 it of examples of virtue, and must be much more actuated 
 by the desire of detraction than by the love of truth. 
 
 The Cardinal de Eetz himself, who was turn by turn the 
 prince's friend and his enemy, his partisan and his opposer, 
 mentions nothing that could lead to a belief in the calum- 
 nies which some later publications have thought fit to bring 
 forth from the dark repertories of long-forgotten scandal ; 
 and yet the Cardinal de E-etz was not a man to spare or to 
 conceal. "We may, therefore, well set down the charges to 
 which we allude, either to the general malevolence with 
 which the mean regard the great, or to the more venomous 
 malignity of individual hatred, and thus pass them over as 
 either matter for contempt or detestation. 
 
 "We have in the foregoing pages mentioned the impetu- 
 ous heat with which the duke d'Enghien sometimes out- 
 raged the cold etiquette of a ceremonious court. An 
 instance of the kind occurred at this period, which caused 
 for a time a serious division between himself and the duke 
 of Orleans, the uncle of the young king, and which, though 
 productive of no important results, was never sincerely for- 
 gotten. At a splendid /^^e given at the palace of the duke of 
 Orleans, one of that prince's ushers carelessly waving his 
 staff of office, brought it so near the duke d'Enghien as to 
 graze his face. Conde, giving way to a burst of anger, 
 snatched the wand from his hand and broke it to pieces. 
 The duke of Orleans looked upon this proceeding as a per- 
 sonal insult offered to himself, and resented it accordingly ; 
 and thus began a quarrel which was with great difficulty 
 appeased by Cardinal Mazarin. 
 
 The war upon the frontiers still continued, and the court 
 of Erance took care to cripple the energies of her generals, 
 by dividing the army into such small portions that nothing 
 great could be undertaken by any one division. 
 
 At length, however, Turenne having received a severe 
 check at Mariendal, the necessity of a junction between his 
 forces and those of Conde became absolutely necessary for 
 
THE GREAT CONDE. 263 
 
 the safety of the state, and the prince accordingly marched 
 for Spires, where his corps, united with that of Turenne, 
 amounted to about twenty-three thousand efficient men. 
 Armies in those days were not the immense machines 
 which we have since seen employed in the wars of our own 
 times ; so that the forces now under the command of the 
 prince were looked upon as very considerable. 
 
 AVith these he continued to manoeuvre in the face of 
 Oeneral Mercy for some weeks, now threatening one town, 
 now another, till, after a thousand marches and counter- 
 marches, he succeeded in drawing the imperial army into 
 the plains of Norlinghen. Here General Mercy, who was 
 famous for the skill with which he selected his position on 
 all occasions, though he could not find a ground so strong 
 as those he had hitherto occupied, took post upon the 
 heights, with his right wing covered by the mountains of 
 Yimburg, and his left resting on the castle of Allerem, 
 with the village of Allerem a short distance in advance of 
 the centre of his line. This he had time to occupy with a 
 strong force ; and adding some hasty fortifications to the 
 natural strength of his position, he rendered it almost 
 impregnable. 
 
 So Turenne judged it, when, turning back from J^orlin- 
 ghen, the French army came in presence of the enemy ; and 
 he strongly advised Conde not to tempt a battle under such 
 disadvantageous circumstances. The prince, however, saw 
 nothing but victory before him ; and it is an extraordinary 
 fact, which has been observed of these two great generals, 
 that, with equal courage and talents, they never judged 
 alike on the probable issue of any great undertaking. It 
 would be ridiculous to say that Turenne was timid — no, 
 but he was cautious. Conde was bold — so bold indeed, 
 that success was the only proof that he was not rash. 
 Conde always struck for victory, Turenne always guarded 
 against defeat. 
 
 Under Conde, commanded Turenne and Grammont; 
 under Mercy, Glene and the famous Jean de Wert ; so that 
 six of the most celebrated generals of Europe were at 
 once upon the field. The battle was long and sanguinary. 
 The village, which was the principal point of attack, was taken 
 and retaken more than once, and the uncertain balance of 
 fortune wavered long over the two contending armies. 
 
264 THE GREAT CONDE. 
 
 At length, however, the united efforts of Turenne an(J 
 Conde succeeded in breaking the right wing of the enemy 
 and taking the village. Confusion and defeat now spread' 
 itself through this part of the imperial army. The centre 
 gave way in every direction, and John de Wert, who had on 
 the left defeated Marshal Grrammont, and even made him 
 prisoner, found himself abandoned by the rest of the army 
 and exposed to the whole force of the French. To retreat 
 was all he could do, and it was most honourable to himself 
 that he could do so with safety. The field, however, 
 remained in possession of the French, with the whole of 
 the enemy's artillery and forty standards. Six thousand 
 men fell on the part of Austria, amongst whom was Mercy, 
 the general-in-chief. He was buried on the field, and a 
 monument erected to his memory with an epitaph that he 
 merited : — 
 
 " Sta, Viator ! Heroem calcas." 
 
 Grlene, who commanded the imperial right wing, was^ 
 taken, and a multitude of officers of lesser note were 
 amongst the dead and the prisoners. 
 
 France lost four thousand men and a great many officers ; 
 Turenne and Grrammont were both slightly wounded, and 
 Conde, with two horses killed under him and three wounded,, 
 received a pistol-ball in the arm, and a slight hurt in the^ 
 thigh. 
 
 He hastened to profit I)y his victory, but his wound and 
 fatigue brought on a fit of illness as he lay before Heilbronn, 
 which soon grew so serious as to threaten his life. He was 
 carried to Philipsburg, where a strong constitution at 
 length overcame the disease ; but while he thus lay incapa- 
 ble of action, the imperial forces rallied behind the Danube, 
 and, advancing under the command of John de Wert, wrested 
 from the French all the advantages they had gained. 
 
 At this period, the operations of the armies in Flanders 
 were every moment becoming more and more important to 
 France ; but, confided to the command of Graston, duke of 
 Orleans, a weak, undecided, and favourite-governed prince, 
 the French troops in that district were reaping little but 
 the thorny harvest of loss and disgrace. Though it was 
 evident to every one that the genius of Conde was there 
 required, to retrieve what had been done amiss, and to per- 
 
THE GREAT CONDK. 265 
 
 form what had been lefb undone ; yet Gaston of Orleans 
 clung to his command with the pertinacious attachment of 
 all weak men to the power they are incapable of using. 
 JS'o one dared to propose to the great Conde a subordinate 
 station, but, with that greatness of mind which is one of 
 the nobler parts of heroism, he voluntarily offered to serve 
 under his cousin of Orleans. Though opposed in all his 
 greater schemes, and harassed by the timid counsels of the 
 weak and incapable men with whom he was joined, the pre- 
 sence of Conde brought success along with it. Courtrai 
 capitulated, Mardyke was taken, and Dunkirk, after a long 
 and painful siege, fell for the first time into the hands of 
 Prance. 
 
 About this time Henry de Bourbon, prince de Conde, 
 the father of the young warrior, died at Paris, and was suc- 
 ceeded in all his honours by the subject of our memoir. 
 
 Being now, as successor to his father, president of the 
 council of regency, Conde's first care was to protect the 
 count de Harcourt and Marshal de la Motte against the 
 tyranny of Mazarin, who, without affording them the means- 
 of success, now punished them for the want of it in the 
 campaign of Catalonia. 
 
 Mazarin, the most subtle of men, yielded every conces* 
 sion to the prince's remonstrance, praying him, at the same 
 time, to take upon himself the command of the army of 
 Catalonia, and promising him all the necessary supplies in 
 abundance. 
 
 Conde was a less able tactician in the cabinet than in the 
 field. From the native frankness of his character he sus- 
 pected no fraud in one who professed to be his friend, and 
 from long habits of victory he never doubted of success. He 
 accordingly took the command which was offered him, and 
 on arriving at Barcelona found that everything was wanting 
 which could render his arms again triumphant. Neither 
 ' money, stores, nor artillery were prepared ; but yet his con- 
 fidence did not forsake him, and, as if in mockery of the 
 difiiculties of his situation, he was drawn into the only fan- 
 faronnade of which history accuses him. 
 
 As we seek to represent Conde but as a man, though a 
 great one, we shall relate this anecdote of his bravado at 
 the siege of Lerida, as it is reported from the recital of one 
 who was present. 
 
266 THE GREAT CONDE. 
 
 " The prince besieged Lerida," says the amusing histo- 
 rian of De G-rammont. " The place itself was nothing, but 
 Don Gregorio Brice was not a little. He was one of those 
 chip-of-the-old-block Spaniards, as brave as the Cid, as 
 proud as all the Guzmans together, and as gallant as the 
 whole Abencerrages of Granada. 
 
 " He suffered us to make the first approaches w^ithout 
 showing the least sign of life. The Marechal de Grammont, 
 w^hose maxim it w^as that a governor who at first makes a 
 great noise, and burns his suburbs that he may defend his 
 town like a lion, generally defends it like a rat, did not at 
 all like the civility of Don Gregorio Brice. The prince, 
 however, proud of Eocroy, of Eribourg, and of Norlinghen, 
 to tease the fortress and its governor, opened the trenches 
 with his own regiment, at the head of which marched four« 
 and-twenty violins, as if we had been at a wedding. 
 
 " Night came, and we all set about to amuse ourselves 
 as best we might. Our violins were full of tender airs, and 
 good cheer reigned throughout. Heaven only knows what 
 <lirt was thrown at the poor little governor and his ruff, 
 both of which we fancied we should have in our hands 
 within four-and-twenty hours. All this passed at the 
 trenches, when we suddenly heard a cry of bad augury 
 from the rampart, repeated twice or thrice, — ^ Alert to the 
 wall ! ' which cry was followed by a salvo of cannon and 
 musketry, and the salvo by a sortie, which, having swept our 
 trench, drove us back fighting to the very camp. 
 
 " The next morning Gregorio Brice sent a present of ice 
 and fruit to our commander, begging him most humbly to 
 excuse his not having violins ready to return his serenade, 
 but assuring him, that if the music which he had sent out 
 the night before had been found agreeable, he would endea- 
 vour to keep it up as long as the prince did him the honour 
 of remaining before Lerida." 
 
 The governor kept his word, and Conde was obliged to 
 raise the siege and return into France a wiser man at least, 
 if not a better general, than when he had quitted it. 
 
 About this time took place in France the first infant 
 movements of those dissensions which were afterwards known 
 by the name of the Wars of the Fronde. The regency of 
 the kingdom had, as we have show^n, been confided ty the 
 queen, Anne of Austria, who yielded all her power to her 
 
THE GRExVT CONDjb. 267 
 
 favourite and minister, Cardinal Mazarin. The combination 
 oT weakness and tyranny in his government of the country 
 at first excited little but satire and contempt. But gra- 
 dually contempt grew into hatred, and satire into opposition. 
 The people murmured against the excessive imposts with 
 which they were burdened, the nobles espoused their cause, 
 and the Parliament of Paris took several steps to obtain 
 redress. Mazarin, however, governing the duke of Orleans 
 by his weaknesses, and reconciled to Conde by virtue of a 
 thousand submissive apologies, felt his power secure, and 
 continued to neglect the complaints of the people and the 
 ^remonstrances of the Parliament. 
 
 In the mean while the prince, at the head of the army of 
 Picardy, was opposed to the Archduke Leopold, and, after 
 various skilful manoeuvres, succeeded in taking Ypres in the 
 face of the Spanish army. He then eftected his junction 
 with the count d'Erlach, and followed the army of the arch- 
 duke to the plain of Lens, where, having drawn him out ot 
 his intrenchments, he led him on to a general battle. His 
 repulse from Lerida was here wiped out by the most signal 
 victory he ever gained. The archduke w^as defeated, Grene- 
 ral Beck killed, and ten thousand men, with eight hundred 
 officers, were left on the field of battle, on the part of the 
 imperial army. Such victories are often as detrimental 
 -even to the conquerors as a defeat ; but in this case the 
 loss of the Prench amounted to but five hundred men ; 
 and the opening afforded to further conquests was 
 immense. 
 
 Internal faction, however, placed a barrier between the 
 arms of Prance and the splendid career open before them. 
 By this time the dissensions between the court and the 
 people of the ^ capital were drawing to a climax ; and 
 Mazarin, beginning to tremble at the storm which he 
 (himself had raised, recalled the prince de Conde to Paris, 
 hoping to gain shelter under his protection. The prince 
 freturned, and found himself instantly an object of solicita- 
 tion to all parties. His first endeavour seems to have been 
 to act as mediator, and by conceding something to the 
 people, to remove the justice of their complaints, whilst, by 
 adding his influence to the authority of government, he put 
 the monarchy itself out of danger. The chiefs of the people, 
 however, had by this time begun to feel the benefit of mur- 
 
268 THE aEEAT CONDE. 
 
 muring and the sweets of popularity, and they were not 
 at all inclined to accede to measures which, by removing' 
 injuries, would put a stop to the eloquence of complaint, 
 and, by quieting popular irritation, would deprive them of 
 the vanity of popular favour. 
 
 A thousand obstacles therefore were instantly raised 
 against the plans which Conde proposed, and, incensed by 
 unreasonable opposition, he cast himself completely into 
 the arms of the court, and counselled the most violent, 
 though perhaps the most feasible measures, for reducing 
 those persons to submission by force that he had in vain 
 attempted to recall to their duty by reason. His suggestion 
 was, that the army should instantly be marched upon Paris, 
 that cannon should be pointed down all the principal streets^ 
 and that chiefs of the party called the Fronde should be 
 directed to quit Paris within a certain space. 
 
 To judge of this proposal, we must remember that Prance 
 was then an absolute monarchy ; that the divine right of 
 kings w^as then considered undeniable; that Conde was 
 of the blood royal of Prance ; and that therefore all his 
 prejudices were on the side of absolute power. His plan 
 would certainly have succeeded, for the Parisians were pre- 
 pared with no means of resistance, and must necessarily 
 have acquiesced in any demand enforced by the cogent 
 argumentation of cannon-balls. It happened, however,, 
 that another scheme was offered, for blockading Paris, and 
 reducing it to obedience by famine. 
 
 "Weak courts always follow timid counsels, and this was 
 adopted. The queen, with her son and the greater part 
 of the court, quitted Paris during the night; and Conde^ 
 without money or ammunition, and with ten thousand men 
 at the utmost, was ordered to invest one of the largest 
 capitals in Europe. 
 
 In the mean while the Parisians held themselves upon the 
 defensive, and, supported by several princes of the blood, 
 gave orders for raising an army ; and thus was begun a civil 
 war, the most extraordinary, if not the most absurd, of any 
 within the record of history. 
 
 The account of this war given by Voltaire is too long 
 for insertion here as a whole ; but many of the sketches that 
 he has drawn are too living and too true to be omitted. 
 " The different chambers of parliament,'* says he, " which 
 
THE OEEAT CONDE. 269 
 
 had cried so loudly against a trifling and necessary impost, 
 which did not amount to a hundred thousand crowns, now 
 voted a sum of near ten millions of our money for the 
 subversion of their native land. 
 
 " The civil discords which at that time desolated England, 
 serve to show clearly the character of the two nations. The 
 English had mingled with their civil troubles a melancholy 
 inveteracy and a reasoning fury ; bloody battles were fought, 
 scaffolds were raised for the vanquished, and the steel 
 decided all. 
 
 " The French, on the contrary, cast themselves, laughing, 
 into the arms of sedition by pure caprice. The various 
 factions were headed by women, and love was the mover of 
 the cabals of the day. The duchess of Longueville won 
 Turenne to seduce the army which he commanded for the 
 king to revolt against their sovereign. Turenne did not 
 succeed, and was obliged to fly from the very army he had 
 commanded, for the love of a woman who laughed at his 
 passion. 
 
 " The duke of Beaufort, the idol of the people, and the 
 instrument made use of to govern it — a popular but narrow- 
 minded prince — was a public object of ridicule to the court, 
 and even to the Eronde itself; and his common appellation 
 was, the King of the Markets. The Parisian troops, who 
 issued forth from Paris covered with feathers and ribbons, 
 and always returned defeated, were received with hootings 
 and bursts of laughter. Epigrams and couplets were their 
 only means of repairing these disasters. Taverns and places 
 of debauchery were the tents where they held their councils 
 of war, in the midst of pleasantries, songs, and dissolute 
 gaiety." ^ 
 
 Such is the picture of the wars of the Eronde, as given by 
 Voltaire; and though De Retz, Joli, and others who have 
 written on the subject, paint it in somewhat graver colours, 
 and give it more consequence, from having been personally 
 interested therein, yet the result of the whole is, that it was 
 begun with ridiculous levity, and carried on as it was com- 
 menced. 
 
 It ended with the same inconsister cy. Both parties grew 
 tired of a folly which injured them both ; and after skir- 
 mishes, negotiations, and treaties, all equally ridiculous, 
 a peace was concluded which left the situation of the 
 
270 THE GEEAT COKDE, 
 
 ministers and the people quite as precarious as it had been 
 at first. 
 
 Conde, however, triumphed in bringing back the court to 
 Paris, and of course met with that ingratitude on the part 
 of the minister with which weak minds always return ser- 
 vices they cannot reward. Conde had rendered himself too 
 great, and Mazarin hated him in proportion. Intrigues on 
 both parts succeeded. Conde suffered himself to be guided 
 by his sister, the beautiful duchess of Longueville, who, 
 deeply implicated with the party of the Eronde, left no 
 means untried to detach her brother from the court. The 
 Pronde eagerly courted him. The duke of Orleans joined 
 himself to the faction ; and Conde for the first time wavered 
 in his support of the throne. 
 
 Mazarin saw his danger ; and, to disunite the formidable 
 party raised against him, he made every concession that 
 was demanded of him. The duke of Orleans, ever vacillating- 
 in his determinations, led the prince back to the court as he 
 had led him from it ; and Conde, having dictated his own 
 terms, returned once more to the party of the government. 
 A sincere reconciliation, however, was the last thing in 
 Mazarin' s thoughts. His only object had been to detach 
 Conde from the faction to whom his support was a host ^. 
 and, having accomplished his purpose in this instance, he 
 applied himself assiduously to render the breach between 
 the prince and the Eronde irretrievable. Means were not 
 wanting to a man who scrupled to employ none that could 
 be offered ; and Mazarin soon succeeded in rendering Conde 
 and the Eronde equally obnoxious to each other 
 
 It is an excellent weakness in human passions, that to 
 reach immediate gratification they forget all ultimate objects. 
 Without this counterbalancing blindness, how many fearful 
 purposes would be effected by the wild strength of that cruel 
 race of giants. The great end of the Eronde was to over- 
 whelm Mazarin, and to destroy the government; but in 
 their wrath against Conde they forgot all other designs ; 
 and the chiefs of the faction are actually found in history 
 combining with Mazarin himself to procure the arrest and 
 imprisonment of the prince. Both Joli and De Eetz ac- 
 Jtnowledge the intrigues, the plots, and the cabals which 
 took place between the minister and his avowed enemies, 
 for the purpose of destroying a man equally inimical to 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 271 
 
 both ; and, supported by his adversaries as well as by his^ 
 own party, Mazarin determined upon the boldest step that 
 signalizes his administration in history. 
 
 The duke of Orleans was made acquainted with the- 
 scheme, and of course, having in his day deserted all parties, 
 been the tool of every knave, the destruction of every friend, 
 the fomenter and betrayer of every conspiracy, he scrupled 
 not to yield his cousin to his fate, and to lure him on to the 
 trap. Por four whole days he is said not to have revealed 
 the secret intrusted to him — sl thing unparalleled in the 
 history of his life. This, more perhaps than any other cir- 
 cumstance, tended to strengthen Conde's feeling of security. 
 Though there wanted not many to warn him of his danger, 
 and even to inform him of the coalition of the cardinal with 
 his enemies, the natural frankness of his own nature would 
 not permit him to believe that Mazarin loaded him with 
 professions and civility while he planned his ruin. Besides, 
 he knew that the matter must have been confided to the 
 duke of Orleans, if it existed ; and he never dreamed that 
 the duke could keep a secret. 
 
 This fatal confidence in the sincerity of the one and the 
 weakness of the other proved his bane. A specious pretext 
 was easily found to call the duke of Longueville, his brother- 
 in-law ; the prince of Conti, his brother ; and himself, to the 
 palace together ; and all measures were prepared to arrest 
 them on their arrival. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 18th of January, a.d. 1650, the 
 prince proceeded to the palace, and was walking onwards 
 towards the council-hall, when the captain of the queen's 
 guards approached, and in a low voice informed him that he 
 had an order for his arrest. The prince started, exclaiming 
 bitterly, " This, then, is the reward of my services ! " 
 
 He made no attempt at resistance, however, though it is 
 more than probable that the extreme attachment of the 
 soldiery to his person would have rendered such an efltbrt 
 successful. "Whether, with his usual presence of mind, he 
 remembered that success itself would have placed him in a 
 situation of great difliculty and danger, or whether he sub- 
 mitted from mere effect of surprise, cannot now be told. 
 He demanded only to speak with the queen, which being^ 
 refused him, he was conducted, through a double line of 
 soldiers, towards the carriage which had been prepared for 
 
272 THE GREAT CONDK. 
 
 him. One of the rooms through which he was led was, from 
 some accidental cause, darkened. He entered it without 
 hesitation ; but, as he did so, he turned to the officer, saying, 
 " Gruitaut, this looks very like the states of Blois ! " alluding 
 to the murder of the duke of Guise by order of Henry III. 
 
 " Fear not, my lord," replied the captain of the guard ; 
 "*' I would not have undertaken it ; " and the prince was 
 then conducted to the carriage, which conveyed him, with 
 his two relatives, to the castle of Yincennes. 
 
 The details of a prisoner's existence are too monotonous 
 to give pleasure, unless we could represent separately all 
 those minuter shades of feeling — the hopes, the fears, the 
 expectations, the weariness of delay, the sickening of ima- 
 gination, the vacuity of being, the listlessness of idleness, 
 and the things to which it will descend for employment — 
 all which, when rightly produced, find their way to the 
 latent sources of feeling, and draw deeply from the well of 
 human sympathies, but upon which we who here write have 
 neither space nor power to dwell at length. Life in a 
 prison is like one of those fine old pictures, in which, when 
 we look near, we find a thousand objects to strike and to 
 interest; but which, at a distance, form but one dark 
 sombre spot. 
 
 Even in prison, however, the great Conde's spirit never 
 quailed to fortune. His gaiety seems not to have sunk for 
 a moment ; though, indeed, there was perhaps a stronger 
 touch of sadness than has been imagined in the famous 
 answer he made on hearing that the princess, with his 
 infant son, had raised a great part of the south in his 
 favour, and was defending Bordeaux against the army of 
 Mazarin. He was at the moment watering some pinks, the 
 cultivation of which formed one of the few amusements of 
 his prison, and turning to his surgeon, who brought him 
 the news, he replied , " "Wouldst thou ever have thought, 
 my good friend, that I would be watering my garden, while 
 my wife was carrying on the war ?" 
 
 The efforts of the young princess de Conde to deliver 
 her husband by force were fruitless. A thousand other 
 projects, well conceived and well carried on, to extricate 
 him by art, were equally unsuccessful, and Conde was suc- 
 -cessively removed to the citadels of Marcouffy and Havre de 
 G-race. During his imprisonment in the latter city, how- 
 
THE GEEAT CONDK. 273 
 
 ever, the aspect of the political factions in Paris began to 
 change. Mazarin and the Fronde had acted together to 
 remove their mutual enemy ; but that object being effected, 
 no link of union existed between them. Female influence 
 was now exerted in every direction in Conde's favour. 
 Absence removed prejudices, calmed irritations, and quelled 
 popular outcry. Suffering and wrong excited pity and 
 indignation, and the same men began to cabal for the 
 prince's return, who had leagued with Mazarin to procure 
 his imprisonment. Such were the signs that began to show 
 his liberation as approaching; but the immediate cause 
 thereof was the ascendancy that the faction of the Fronde 
 obtained over the minister. With the French people no 
 arms are so powerful as ridicule, and no man knew better 
 how to govern the French by that means than the cele- 
 brated Cardinal de Eetz, the leader, as he may truly be 
 called, of the Fronde. To ruin Mazarin now became his 
 object, and, having rendered him the laughter of the 
 Parisians, he soon succeeded in rendering him their aver- 
 sion. Insult after insult was piled upon him. Menaces 
 were added to affronts, and the minister soon found it 
 necessary to his safety to fly from a scene where danger was 
 following indignity. He retired, in consequence, from Paris, 
 and a decree of the Parliament immediately issued, exiling 
 him from the country. Anne of Austria would fain have 
 followed her favourite from the capital, and supported him 
 even at the expense of a new civil war ; but the Fronde 
 were upon their guard, and by investing the Palais Eoyal, 
 compelled her to remain in Paris. 
 
 One of the chief pretexts for the outcry raised by the 
 faction against the minister, was the imprisonment of the 
 princes ; and the queen finding herself deprived of her 
 counsellor, and in the hands of a powerful party, made the 
 first show of yielding to their influence, by signing an order 
 for the release of Conde and his companions. 
 
 The duke of Orleans, too, who was ever willing to change 
 his opinions, gladly embraced the opportunity of abandoning 
 the principles he had supported, and now called for the 
 prince's immediate enfranchisement, as readily as he had 
 yielded his voice for his arrest. 
 
 Messengers were instantly sent to Havre to open the 
 
 T 
 
274 THE GREAT CONDE. 
 
 prison doors upon the captives ; but Mazarinhad forestalled 
 them in their object; and before quitting Prance, had 
 himself proceeded to Havre and set the princes at liberty, 
 hoping by such an action, and the mean concessions which 
 accompanied it, to find a protector amongst the very persons 
 he had injured. It is pleasing, hov^ever, to see that frank- 
 ness, integrity, and generous feeling, compel the esteem of 
 even the base, and are still in the end appreciated by those 
 v^ho have not the moral courage to act by them. 
 
 The prince returned to Paris, and was received with 
 shouts and acclamations by the people, professions of 
 attachment and offers of service by the great, and honours 
 and apologies by the court. 
 
 Soon the scene changed ; Mazarin, though absent, exerted 
 his influence over the councils of Anne of Austria. The 
 favours and posts which Conde solicited for those who had 
 contributed to regain his liberty were refused by the 
 court ; his friends deemed him ungrateful and cold in their 
 cause ; the soul of all factions, the Cardinal de Eetz, began 
 to inspire new intrigues against him ; and to avoid being 
 arrested once more, Conde was obliged to retire from Paris 
 to St. Maur. Here an immense party formed around him, 
 consisting of many of the most noble, the most talented, 
 and the most intemperate of the French court. Wit, 
 courage, and skill, were not wanting in the prince's circle, 
 but judgment, fixed principle, and steadiness of character, 
 were not to be found in Prance. Each individual was per- 
 sonally inimical to Mazarin and all the queen's favourites ; 
 each had some strong personal interest to consult ; and 
 each strenuously urged the prince towards a civil war. 
 
 The strongest influence of all, however, was that of his 
 sister, the beautiful duchess of Longueville, who employed 
 its whole force to determine him to negotiate with the 
 Spaniards, and declare war against the court. Conde 
 weakly yielded, and the negotiations were begun. He was 
 acting, however, against his own better judgment, and 
 hence the indecision which he evinced on this occasion, a 
 weakness that he never showed in any other action of his 
 life. He hesitated long, now negotiating with the court, now 
 with the Spaniards, and apparently willing to avail himself 
 of the least concession that the queen might make. 
 
 Such concessions were made, and Conde returned to 
 
^ THE GREAT COITDE. 275 
 
 Paris, where several decrees of the Parliament were given 
 in his favour. The enmity of the queen, however, was 
 unabated ; that of the Cardinal de Eetz was a thousand- 
 fold increased ; and contests of the most disgraceful nature 
 occurred daily, between the armed followers of the prince 
 and those of the cardinal. Swords were drawn by nearly 
 two thousand men on both sides, in the immediate precincts 
 of the courts of justice, and the streets of Paris offered one 
 continual scene of brawling, anarchy, and tumult. At 
 length the revolt of Conde was determined by his dis- 
 •covering that a plan for arresting him at a procession had 
 been arranged by the queen and the Cardinal de Retz, and 
 that an order had issued to the duke d'Aumont to sur- 
 round and cut to pieces a body of troops attached to his 
 person, in the neighbourhood of Stenay. Pressed on all 
 sides by those he loved best, to oppose force to treachery, he 
 at length yielded to the evil counsels that were given to 
 him ; and, quitting Paris, raised the standard of revolt at 
 Bordeaux. 
 
 His army soon amounted to twelve thousand men, and many 
 bodies of troops in other parts of the kingdom declared in his 
 favour. His partisans were intelligent and busy throughout 
 the kingdom, and for a time success seemed assured. 
 
 The king, however, now out of his minority, though still 
 under the tutelage of his mother, soon took the field against 
 his rebellious cousin, and advanced across the Loire to meet 
 him. The royal armies were commanded by the count de 
 Harcourt, a skilful and experienced officer, and by the 
 famous Turenne, who, having changed parties more than 
 ence, had at length fixed himself in the service of the court. 
 
 A chief who undertakes a civil war upon his own per- 
 sonal interest, without the support of some grand religious 
 or political principle which may act as a bond of union in 
 his party, totally independent of attachment to himself, 
 will ever find that, though caprice or generosity may still bind 
 some men to him in moments of reverse, yet expectation of 
 benefit is the general principle of human nature, and that 
 the principal part of his followers, in moments of difficulty 
 and danger, will discover that their own interest is of infi- 
 nitely superior consequence to any that they take in him. 
 
 This was the case with the prince de Conde. He found 
 T 2 
 
276 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 that he had no means of command over the men that fol- 
 lowed him. Dissensions and disputes spread among his 
 adherents, and though his party was long kept up by the 
 intrigues and activity of his friends, the general hatred to 
 Mazarin, who was now recalled, and the love of the French 
 people for change and excitement, yet the movements of hi& 
 armies were languid and undecided, and they met with fully 
 as many checks as they gained advantages. Continually 
 obliged to quit his forces to quiet animosities amongst his 
 friends, or to raise fresh supplies, Conde found his situation 
 very different from that wherein, furnished with troops over 
 whom he had an absolute command, the whole energies of 
 his mind were free to act as a general. 
 
 He had no talents for the head of a faction ; and conse- 
 quently his party w^as ever straggling, weak, and disunited, 
 and his campaigns in the civil wars appear more like the 
 wild efforts of a guerrilla chief than the regular combina- 
 tions of the first general of his age. 
 
 After various skirmishes and battles, which hardly deserve 
 the name of battle, the situation of the prince's affairs was 
 greatly altered to his advantage by the obstinate favouritism 
 of the queen, who had not only brought back Mazarin, and 
 restored him to full sway, but insisted upon the Parliament 
 of Paris rescinding the decrees they had issued against him. 
 The Parliament resisted ; and the duke of Orleans found a 
 fair opportunity of changing his party, and declaring once 
 more for the prince. 
 
 Two or three separate corps d'armee were hovering about 
 in the neighbourhood of Paris, attached either to the in- 
 terest of the prince or that of his new ally the duke of 
 Orleans. Being without any direct object, they chiefly 
 employed their time in quarrelling with each other; and 
 probably, by their eternal wrangling, would soon have done 
 the cause of the prince no small evil. Conde took the bold 
 resolution, however, of traversing the whole country, nearly 
 alone, to put himself at their head. He accordingly left 
 the command in Bordeaux to his brother, the prince de 
 Conti, and set out at midday from Agen, on a journey, the 
 adventures of which are detailed with such amusing sim- 
 plicity by Grourville, who was present, that we cannot resist 
 detailing them, at least in part : — 
 
 "The day chosen for the journey," says Grourville, "was 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 277 
 
 Palm Sunday, and these gentlemen having covered them- 
 selves vrith very modest apparel, more fitted for simple 
 citizens than persons of their condition, the prince sent off 
 his servants by water, saying that he would rejoin them at 
 Marmande. 
 
 " I was charged to go before, with a guide on horseback, 
 who carried behind him a portmanteau containing four 
 musketoons, with their bandeleers wrapped up in straw. 
 One was destined for the prince, one for the duke de 
 IRocheloucault, one for the captain of the guard, and one for 
 myself. These gentlemen having each provided other arms 
 also for himself, I set oft" before, to pass the river Drot ; 
 and, having a list of the places by which we were to pro- 
 ceed, I went forward with the guide. In going, it was 
 agreed that each should take a travelling name, to which 
 we soon accustomed ourselves. Towards night we arrived 
 at a town, the governor of which held it for the prince. 
 Nevertheless, to avoid all risks, we had determined to avoid 
 it; but the sentinel took the alarm, and gave it to the 
 others. I told him, however, that we belonged to the 
 prince's party, and wished to enter the town. Accordingly, 
 I put myself at the head of the troop, and, having made 
 them halt opposite the gate, went in alone to speak with 
 the governor. To him I said that his highness had sent me 
 with a few horse to inquire for Monsieur de Biron ; and, 
 having taken a glass with him, I returned, and marched on 
 with my little troop. On Monday morning we found our- 
 selves at Cahensa. After having taken some repose, and 
 suffered the horses to eat their corn, we went on, and 
 marched for some time after nightfall, when we entered a 
 village and alighted at a pot-house. We stayed here three 
 or four hours ; and having found nothing but eggs, the 
 prince declared he could make an omelet as well as any 
 one. Unhappily, however, the hostess having told him that, 
 to do it through, he ought to turn it, and having given him 
 a lesson how to manage it, the prince in the attempt upset 
 the pan, and tossed it all into the fire. We set out thence 
 two or three hours before day, to pass the Dordogne, which 
 river we crossed in the boat in two parties. Marching 
 onward, we arrived on the Wednesday morning, towards 
 three o'clock, at a town which appeared to me of some con- 
 sequence, and I questioned the guide as to whether it was 
 
278 THE GREAT CONDfi. 
 
 necessary to pass through it. He replied that it was not. 
 but that we must pass close by the gate upon our left ;. 
 adding, that the river was so near, it left but space for the- 
 road, and that a guard had been stationed there for some 
 days. In consequence of this news, I decorated myself with 
 a white scarf which I had provided against the occasion, and, 
 seeing a man at the gate, I begged him, as I rode by, not to 
 let any of my followers enter the town. I was obeyed to 
 the letter, and we were all suffered to pass quietly. We 
 then went on, and while allowing our horses to rest in a 
 good-sized village, one of the peasants told the prince that 
 he knew him well, and proceeded to name him. Happening 
 to hear him, I began to laugh at the idea, and several of the 
 others coming up, I told them what had happened ; when 
 all the rest taking the same tone, we jeered the poor man 
 to such a degree that we completely confounded him. 
 
 " When we were about to depart, the prince de Marsillac, 
 who had scarcely eaten anything, and had fallen asleep, 
 having been awakened, was still so completely overcome, 
 that he seemed to have lost all remembrance. IBeing raised 
 by two of his companions, no sooner did they let him go 
 than his knees bent under him again, and I was obliged to 
 throw a quantity of cold water in his face to bring him to 
 himself. The night following we arrived in time to sleep at 
 a chateau belonging to the marquis de Levy, who was with 
 us. Here the greater part of the troop went to bed for the 
 first time since we set out ; all of the party, except the 
 prince de Conde, being so tired that they could not hold 
 themselves up when they alighted from their horses. On 
 the Friday, at four o'clock, we arrived on the banks of the 
 Loire ; and having found that we could pass at twice with 
 all our horses, we embarked, intending to pass to the other 
 side above La Charite, then held for the king. Ey a mis- 
 take, however, we were landed exactly opposite the gate. 
 The sentinel having cried. Qui va la ? I replied, on the spur 
 of the occasion, that we were officers of the king's going to 
 the court, and that we wished to come in. 
 
 " The prince, in addition, bade the soldier inform Mon- 
 sieur de Eussy, who commanded in the town for the king, 
 that Motheville (which was the name that Conde had taken) 
 desired admission. Some other soldiers having appeared 
 above the gate, one of them went back to inform the*. 
 
THE GEE AT CONDE. 279 
 
 governor. A little after, however, I turned to the prince, 
 saying, loud enough for the sentinels to hear, ' This is all 
 well enough, for you to stay here and go to bed if you like ; 
 but as our leave is out to-morrow, we must get on our way.' 
 So saying, I rode on, and some of the rest having followed 
 me, saying to the prince as they went, ' Stay, if you like ! ' 
 he cried out that we were strange folks, but that he would 
 not quit us ; and bidding the soldiers give his compliments 
 to the governor, he turned his rein and came after us. JN^or 
 were we a little glad to get so easily out of the scrape." 
 
 Shortly after this adventure, Gourville quitted the party 
 to prepare for the prince's reception in Paris, and Conde 
 proceeded to join the army, which he reached in safety. 
 Joli, however, adds another anecdote to Grourville's account 
 of this curious journey, saying that, stopping at the house 
 of an old gentleman on the road, to whom the prince was 
 personally unknown, they were hospitably entertained during 
 the night, as friends of the marquis de Levy, who accom- 
 panied them. The host was talkative, and a jolly com- 
 panion, and over his wine he began to tell some stories of 
 Conde' s family neither very palatable to the ears of his 
 princely guest nor to those of the duke de Eochefoucault, 
 w^ho came in for his full share of the scandal. The marquis 
 de Levy attempted in vain to stop the current of the old 
 man's tongue. On he went, telling all he knew and all that 
 he had heard. Conde, however, did not suffer such idle 
 words to interrupt the harmony of the evening. He laughed 
 with the laughers, and next morning continued his journey, 
 rallying his companions on their adventures by the way. 
 
 Once safely arrived at Paris, all seemed favourable to the 
 schemes of Conde. The duke of Orleans met him on his 
 approach, the duke of Lorraine, with a powerful army, de- 
 clared in his favour, and even joined him in the capital. 
 The Parliament consented to all his wishes, thundered edicts 
 against his adversaries, and sanctioned all his actions by 
 decrees. But the rapid change of public opinion — always 
 the most fluctuating of earthly things, and at this period 
 more vilely capricious than at any other known epoch in 
 history — soon darkened the political horizon around the 
 head of the prince. Paris was invested by the army of the 
 king, and all pensions were stopped to those receiving money 
 from the state, who did not immediately quit the rebellioua 
 
280 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 city. An interested multitude fled at the word. Famine 
 began to be felt within the walls ; the people murmured ; 
 the duke of Lorraine began to negotiate for himself; and, 
 though the Parliament did not abandon the prince, they 
 began to wax sadly lukewarm in his cause. At the same 
 time the court made immense preparations to end the civil 
 contest at a blow. Troops were called in from every quarter ; 
 and the frontiers were almost left without defence for the 
 purpose of assembling such an army round the small force 
 commanded by Conde, that resistance would be useless, and 
 escape impossible. 
 
 Conde saw his danger, and hastened to take measures 
 against it. His army was then at St. Cloud, occupying a 
 post sufficiently strong to oppose successfully anything like 
 an equal force, but not to combat the immense body that 
 now menaced it on all sides. Charenton seemed to promise 
 a more defensible position, and thitherward Conde marched, 
 taking his way through the suburbs of Paris, for the gates 
 of the city itself were now shut against him. 
 
 His advance, however, was not permitted to pass unmo- 
 lested. The two royalist armies followed him closely, the 
 one under Turenne endeavouring to interpose between him 
 and Charenton, and the other hanging upon his rear and 
 striving to cut off his retreat. From the heights of Mont- 
 martre, which the prince climbed to judge of the respective 
 positions of his own troops and those of the enemy, he saw 
 that to proceed was impossible, without coming to a battle 
 with two veteran armies infinitely superior to his own in an 
 open plain. He preferred, therefore, to halt and defend the 
 Faubourg St. Antoine, though he had nought in his rear 
 but a city which shut her gates upon him. 
 
 Turenne instantly judged the prince's design from the 
 first dispositions he saw him make, and to prevent the pos- 
 sibility of his strengthening himself in his new position, he 
 ordered the instant attack of his advanced guard. 
 
 His purpose did not escape Conde, and to give his troops 
 time to post themselves advantageously, he turned Turenne's 
 movement against himself, charged his advanced guard at 
 the head of a body of elite, and drove them back upon the 
 centre. This first check, however, was soon recovered, the 
 cannon of the royal army swept the streets : on both flanks 
 Conde's army was attacked, while he repelled the enemy in 
 
THE GBEAT CONDE. 281 
 
 front ; and as he returned from his successful charge he was 
 met by the news that the royalists had driven in two regi- 
 ments on the right, and had penetrated as far as the market- 
 place. Conde at once put himself at the head of fresh 
 troops, and hastening to dislodge the enemy, drove them 
 back through the narrow streets of the suburb, took seven- 
 teen prisoners of consequence and several standards, re- 
 established his troops in their position, and then hurried to 
 encounter the enemy on the left. Conde was everywhere — 
 in the front of every danger — opposed to every attack ; but 
 in spite of all that skill or heroism could do, the day was 
 gradually going against him. The cannon of the enemy swept 
 down whole ranks of his troops, the best and noblest of his 
 friends had all fallen around him, slowly but certainly the 
 royalists were gaining ground, and some large bodies of 
 troops were forcing their way between him and the town, to 
 surround him on every side. 
 
 One half-hour more, and Conde was lost for ever ; but at 
 that moment the courage and eloquence of Mademoiselle de 
 Montpensier, the daughter of Gaston of Orleans, secured 
 the retreat of the prince's army. She overcame the indeci- 
 sion of her irresolute father ; she won the people to her cause, 
 and, opening the gates of the city to Conde and his army, 
 she caused the cannon of the Bastille to cover his retreat. 
 
 Conde was received in Paris in triumph ; but new fluctua- 
 tions succeeded. Each party was weak, and each party 
 was irresolute ; intrigue was the weapon with which they 
 fought each other, and a concession on the part of the 
 court did more to overthrow the cause of the prince than 
 a thousand victories would have done to sustain it. A 
 tumult of a bloody and disgraceful nature took place in 
 Paris. It was probably concerted by the Cardinal de E-etz, 
 though it is possible that it arose in accident. The multi- 
 tude, however, laid the burden upon the prince de Conde 
 with the usual blindness of popular judgment. Shortly 
 after, the court, yielding to circumstances, once more con- 
 sented to exile Mazarin. The people had no longer any 
 cause of opposition to the court, or any bond of union with 
 Conde. In a few days his party was diminished one-half, 
 and having himself obtained the ostensible object for which 
 he was in arms, he immediately offered to negotiate with 
 the royal party. To his proposals it was replied, that nego- 
 
282 THE GBEAT CONDE. 
 
 tiations were now out of the question, and that nothing: 
 wa3 left for him but to submit. 
 
 Conde knew too well the consequence of such submission,, 
 and threw himself at once into the arms of Spain, still at 
 war with his native country. 
 
 This conduct has been attempted to be justified, but of 
 course without success. Armed opposition to established 
 authorities, though always dangerous as a precedent, and 
 ever calamitous as a necessity, destructive in its immediate 
 consequences, and problematic in its remote event, has 
 sometimes proved glorious, and has often been just. But 
 to make it patriotic, feasible, or honest, it must be inde- 
 pendent of all foreign intervention, and supported alone by 
 national concurrence. Conde might have found it neces- 
 sary to exile himself from an ungrateful country, and to 
 abandon an ungrateful court. He might even be justified 
 in raising the standard of civil war to deliver his nation 
 from tyranny, whether of a king or of a minister ; but when 
 he put himself at the head of foreign troops to wage war 
 against his native land, there could be no doubt that he was 
 a traitor. Conde, however, had no such pleas : he united 
 treason to his country to rebellion against his king ; and 
 even if any circumstance had existed to justify the latter, 
 no circumstance can be imagined in which the former was 
 not criminal. 
 
 Such faults, however, are amongst the number of those 
 that seldom pass without meeting some punishment; and 
 Conde, during his exile, drank deeply of the bitter cup of 
 mortification and debasement. The Spaniards, indeed, who 
 still possessed Planders, received him with every demon- 
 stration of joy; and Fuensaldagnez, who there acted as 
 commander-in-chief, resigned, by order of the king, the 
 supreme direction of the army to the prince. The Spanish 
 general, however, took sufficient care that the honour thus 
 shown to Conde at his expense should be productive of no 
 great glory to him that superseded him ; and, by opposing 
 all his plans, retarding his supplies, and thwarting his enter- 
 prises, he entailed on the gallant but culpable prince a 
 long series of irritating disappointments. 
 
 To oppose Conde the royal army took the field, headed 
 by Turenne, with great resources and unlimited power ; but 
 though the shackles of Spanish impassibility weighed heavy 
 
THE GREAT CONDfi, 28^ 
 
 upon the eager limbs of the prince, and bound him to slow 
 movements, half-measures, and irresolute counsels, yet the 
 native energy of his mind bore him up in spite of the 
 chains with which he was enthralled. Conde appeared, 
 perhaps, more truly as the greatest general of his age, 
 while his actions were shaded by the timid hue of weak and 
 unworthy restraint, than when the graceful skill of his 
 military movements was lost in the blaze of his heroic 
 impetuosity. 
 
 All his combinations were well judged, and all his 
 manoeuvres v^ere well executed. "With infinitely inferior 
 numbers, he was often the victor, and never the conquered. 
 Many places which he wished to succour he was compelled 
 to abandon ; not so much by the efforts of those opposed to 
 him as by the inactivity of those who pretended to sup- 
 port him ; and many places to which he laid siege he was 
 obliged to leave untaken ; but in most cases, as in that of 
 Arras, it was after having repulsed the troops that came to 
 the assistance of the fortress that he retreated with prisoners 
 and trophies, more as if he marched from a victory than fell 
 back from a failure. 
 
 Thus passed several long campaigns ; but regret and dis- 
 appointment were busily working at Conde's heart, that 
 small, hidden council-chamber, in which, however policy 
 may direct our outward movements and gloze over dangers 
 and distresses with daring and firmness, painful truths are 
 spoken aloud, where they are felt, are canvassed, and are 
 estimated sadly, though all is activity and contentment 
 without. Conde fell sick, and so inconsistent were all the 
 factions of that day, that the court of Trance felt, or afiected 
 to feel, the most unprecedented interest in his situation^ 
 Anne of Austria, who hated him, sent a physician to con- 
 sult with those that already attended him ; and Mazarin, 
 who both hated and feared, pretended the most affectionate 
 apprehension during his malady. 
 
 To judge coolly, after this lapse of time, it would seem 
 scarcely possible for any circumstances to have justified 
 such foolish duplicity as that of Mazarin on this occasion. 
 And yet no doubt can exist that he really did affect the 
 deepest grief upon the prince's illness, and the greatest 
 alarm for his life, although he was not only opposing him 
 in the field, but had absolutely impeached him at home. 
 
2S4i THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 and gained a decree from the Parliament of Paris, declaring 
 his estates confiscated, attainting his blood, and depriving 
 him of his name, rank, and hereditary honours. 
 
 The duplicity of such conduct was absurd, inasmuch as it 
 was totally purposeless, and could be but ineffectual ; but in 
 regard to the decree against Conde, which has been cen- 
 sured as both cruel and illegal, we know of no law which 
 does not visit with its most extreme pains such persons as 
 wage warfare against their native country. ISov does it 
 seem more than simple justice to apply the law to a great 
 man which had often been applied to the insignificant ; for 
 the possession of splendid abilities, great possessions, rank, 
 influence, and renown, if they at all altered the case, in- 
 -creased the crime by extending the consequences. 
 
 Circumstances were, however, tending to recall Conde to 
 his native country, and to relieve him from his painful and 
 embarrassing situation. Eoth Prance and Spain were 
 wearied of a war which, after many years of bloodshed and 
 distress, had procured no one great benefit to either party, 
 and had drained away much of the resources of each. Con- 
 ferences were established between Mazarin and Don Louis 
 de Haro, the Spanish plenipotentiary, for the purpose of 
 negotiating a peace ; and, for once generous, the Spanish 
 government would enter into no treaty in which Conde was 
 not particularly included. Don Louis demanded more than 
 'Oonde could ever have expected, and Mazarin conceded 
 more than he probably ever intended to fulfil. 
 
 By these conditions the prince was immediately to be 
 •restored to all his honours and estates ; to be reinstated in 
 his places, pensions, and dignities ; he was to be permitted 
 to receive one million of crowns from Spain as a reward for 
 his services ; and all who followed him in his rebellion were 
 also to be re-established in their property and indemnified 
 for their losses. Immediately on these stipulations being 
 agreed to, Conde set out joyfully for his native land. The 
 -Spanish authorities strove which should do most to show 
 him honour and respect ; deputations waited on him from 
 their towns, and several of their noblest officers accom- 
 panied him to the frontier. Prom thence he hurried on to 
 Provence, where the court was then stationed, eager to 
 ascertain the reception prepared for him. It w^as as grati- 
 fying as could be desired. Mazarin himself came to meet him 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 285^ 
 
 on the road, and Louis XIY., now emerging into manhood, 
 raised him condescendingly from his feet, and assured him 
 that all should be forgotten but his former brilliant services. 
 
 Whether the king himself was sincere in the courteous 
 reception he gave his revolted cousin may be matter of 
 doubt ; the sincerity of Mazarin can hardly be credited. 
 Nevertheless, all the stipulations in favour of Conde were 
 complied with on the part of France ; but at the same time 
 care was taken to separate him entirely from the soldiers 
 who had served under him. This might be very justifiable 
 policy, and no doubt it was ; for though every surrounding 
 circumstance rendered fresh revolt improbable, yet repent- 
 ance is never so sure a warrant for good faith as unbroken 
 fidelity ; and he who had long been a rebel might soon be 
 a rebel again. Had Mazarin, however, understood the cha- 
 racter of Conde, he would have endeavoured to enchain him 
 by frankness and unlimited confidence — bonds impossible 
 for a noble heart to break ; but Mazarin was not a great 
 man himself, he had no generosity in his own disposition, 
 and he could neither practise nor conceive it. 
 
 The minister did not long survive the return of Conde ; 
 but his death altered very little the position of the prince's 
 afiairs. Louis XIV., suddenly freed from restraint, which- 
 had not been irksome merely because it was habitual, now 
 first seemed to awaken to the energies of his own mind, 
 and took the resolution of governing his kingdom himself — 
 a great and singular determination for one who had suffered 
 the tutelage necessary to his infancy to be carried on unne- 
 cessarily into his manhood. 
 
 "Whether he feared that counsel and assistance at such a 
 moment might forge new fetters for him in the place of 
 those from which the death of Mazarin had unmanacled his 
 mind, or whether the thirst for military glory rendered him 
 already jealous of the fame of Conde, cannot now be told ; 
 but certain it is that the young monarch in no degree 
 courted the advice or aid of his cousin in the new task he 
 undertook. Conde retired to Chantilly, and devoted him- 
 self almost entirely to the education of his son, leading a 
 wise and tranquil life, the calm current of which was dis- 
 turbed by little but the intrigues and cabals of his sister, 
 Madame de Longueville, 
 
 About this time the great plans of ambition which had 
 
286 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 probably lain long dormant in the heart of Louis XIV. 
 began to develop themselves, and the conquest of the Low 
 Countries began to occupy his whole attention. Though 
 resolved to direct the operations of the campaign himself, 
 it was of course necessary that the immediate command of 
 the army should be given to some of those famous generals 
 that the long wars of the regency had formed and con- 
 firmed. Two men of renown were before him for his choice, 
 — Turenne and Conde. Louis fixed upon Turenne; and 
 Conde showed himself really great in the calmness with 
 which he saw his rival preferred. He remained' himself at 
 Chantilly with perfect equanimity, but sent his son to learn 
 the art of war under Turenne. 
 
 In rianders the arms of France met with the most bril- 
 liant success ; and new plans of aggrandizement soon began 
 to be formed. Some persons have attributed the scheme 
 for annexing to the crown of France that territory on the 
 confines of Switzerland and Burgundy, formerly called 
 Franche-Comte, to Louis XI Y. himself, while others, with 
 more probability, give the credit of it to Conde. However 
 that might be, the execution of it was intrusted to him. 
 In lulling the attention of the neighbouring powers, and 
 blinding the eyes of the inhabitants of the country he was 
 about to invade, while engaged in active but secret prepara- 
 tion, Conde showed himself a far more consummate poli- 
 tician than he had ever before appeared. Eefore the enemy 
 were aware of his design, Conde was prepared to march ; 
 and before their musters were completed, he was in the 
 heart of their country. Fourteen days sufficed for the sub- 
 jugation of Franche-Comte ; and the government thereof 
 was justly and naturally bestowed on him who had con- 
 quered it. It remained but a short time, however, in the 
 hands of France, being restored to Spain by treaty, before 
 the expiration of many months. 
 
 Could renown and high esteem have given happiness, 
 Conde would have been happy, for every hour brought him 
 some fresh mark of the consideration he had won in 
 Europe. The crown of Poland being at this time vacant 
 by the resignation of one of its kings, the great majority 
 of the nation called Conde to the throne.* Louis XIV., 
 
 * This was the second time. The crown of Poland had been offered 
 him even while in exile. 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 287 
 
 after seeming for a time to favour sucli an idea, suddenly 
 changed his views, and commanded the prince to refuse the 
 offer. Conde obeyed, but still his party, both in Poland 
 and Paris, kept up their efforts in his cause, while those 
 who opposed him had recourse to all that is base and mean 
 to diminish his influence by tarnishing his renown. It was 
 at this period that appeared the greater part of all those 
 libels and scandalous letters, which, during his life, fur- 
 .nished models for many others, and have since afforded 
 pleasant food to those who live on calumny against the 
 great and good. "We shall only pause on this subject fur- 
 ther to remark, that the accusation of interested enemies is 
 never evidence that can be fairly received in that court of 
 judgment which every man holds in his own breast upon 
 historical characters. 
 
 It was not, however, from private enmity alone, or pub- 
 lic opposition, that Conde suffered. Pecuniary difficulties 
 were added to other sources of discomfort, and the total 
 'derangement of his affairs, with the outcry of his creditors, 
 left him no peace from those petty cares most galling to a 
 mind accustomed to expand to great objects rather than 
 contract to little ones. 
 
 At this moment, however, the return of one of his old 
 dependents drew Conde from his' domestic difficulties. 
 Gourville, part of whose narrative has been already cited, 
 had been afterwards exiled in the course of the many poli- 
 tical changes of the day. Though banished and disgraced, 
 Louis XIV. and his ministers did not think it beneath 
 them to make use of his services at the court of Bruns- 
 wick, and after many negotiations and much solicitation on 
 the part of Conde, Grourville was suffered to return. The 
 prince received his old servant with kindness and affection, 
 and amongst other matters mentioned to him in conversa- 
 tion the deranged state of his affairs. Grourville saw and 
 instantly seized the opportunity of serving his benefactor. 
 He offered to take the investigation of the prince's revenues 
 and expenditure upon himself, and willingly undertook to 
 travel to Spain for the purpose of claiming the debt due 
 from that crown to Conde. His integrity was not to be 
 doubted, his zeal had been tried on a thousand occasions, 
 and his shrewd intelligence Conde had himselt witnessed 
 during many years. The services of such a man were 
 
288 THE GBEAT CONDE, 
 
 therefore not to be refused, and the prince put his affairs' 
 entirely in the hands of Gourville. His trust was any- 
 thing but ill-placed. Order and regularity were restored 
 in Conde's household, he was freed from a heavy burden of 
 debt and iinporfcunity, and after long and intricate nego- 
 tiations at the court of Spain, his faithful attendant suc- 
 ceeded in recovering a considerable part of the immense- 
 debt due to him from that country. Thus was Conde freed 
 from the most galling of private misfortunes, poverty joined 
 to greatness, by a man to whom he had first shown some- 
 kindness when valet- de-chambre to the duke of Eochefou- 
 cault ; so applicable to the real events of life is the fable of 
 the Lion and the Mouse. 
 
 Military conquest was now the predominant passion of 
 Louis XIV., and the conquest of Holland was the object 
 that for the moment absorbed all his attention. By the 
 advice of Conde he determined to avoid the fault committed 
 in his former campaign against Elanders, and to concentrate 
 rather than divide his army. The command-in-chief was- 
 assigned to the prince, and Turenne willingly served under 
 one whom he had often obeyed and often opposed with 
 honour. The first movements of the army having proved 
 successful, the passage of the E-hine, proposed by Conde, 
 was strongly applauded by the king, and even approved by 
 Turenne. All measures were taken to render it successful,, 
 and to deceive the enemy in regard to the attempt about to 
 be made ; but, nevertheless, the prince of Orange could 
 not be blinded to movements of such importance, and he 
 had time to detach what appeared a sufficient force to ren- 
 der an undertaking, so difficult in itself, utterly impracti- 
 cable. 
 
 A ford having been found, however, the cavalry began 
 the passage, and the infantry followed in boats. The 
 enemy's horse gave way at the first charge, and the infantry 
 oflered to surrender, when the brutality of the young duke 
 of Longueville changed the bloodless triumph of the day 
 into one of mourning amongst the noblest families in Prance- 
 He had passed the river in the same boat with Conde, and, 
 at the head of a large body of noble volunteers, was in the 
 act of charging the Dutch infantry, when they demanded 
 quarter. He replied by discharging a pistol-shot into the 
 midst of them, and was instantly answered by a tremendous- 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 289 
 
 fire, which laid low the youth of most of the French 
 nobility. He himself fell amongst the rest, though his 
 life was but a poor expiation for the bloodshed he had 
 brought on. 
 
 "While this was taking place, Conde had galloped forward 
 to remedy his nephew's rashness. As he approached, how- 
 ever, one of the enemy's officers threw himself before him, 
 and pointed a pistol at his head. Conde spurred on, grap- 
 pled with his adversary, and the pistol going off in the 
 struggle, the ball lodged in the prince's wrist. This acci- 
 dent, however, did not impede him for a moment ; and it 
 was not till all resistance was at end, that he dismounted 
 and suffered his wound to be dressed. 
 
 Though in no degree likely to prove mortal, the wound 
 of Conde was sufficiently dangerous to cause his removal 
 from the army ; and leaving Louis XIY. to pursue his con- 
 quests, he retired to Emmerick, and thence to Chantilly. 
 It is reported that here the Abbe d' Orleans, brother of the 
 fallen duke of Longueville, waited upon Conde, and offered, 
 inasmuch as from his ecclesiastical vow he could not marry, 
 to make the prince his universal heir by will. Conde, how- 
 ever, refused with a rare degree of generosity, and per- 
 suaded the abbe to turn his donation in another direction, 
 although, be it remembered, Conde was far from affluent, 
 considering his station. 
 
 His wound was scarcely healed when the great coalitions 
 excited in Europe by the victories and aggrandizement of 
 Louis XIY. obliged that monarch to call for his services 
 anew, and Conde was once more charged to defend the 
 frontiers of Alsace and the borders of the higher Ehine, 
 menaced by the troops of Germany and Lorraine. 
 
 The season was inclement, great part of the country was 
 under water, and contagious diseases began to manifest 
 themselves amongst his troops. Still, however, Conde per- 
 severed in maintaining his position, and by so doing not 
 only saved the frontier from infringement, but also brought 
 back his sick in safety to Metz as soon as the fine weather 
 returned ; when, had he yielded to the murmurs of his troops 
 and decamped earlier, he would have been obliged to abandon 
 those in ill health to starvation, misery, and death. 
 
 In the following year, while Louis commanded in person 
 V 
 
290 THE GEEAT CONDE. 
 
 towards the south-east, Conde was appointed to keep the 
 forces of Holland in check in the Low Countries, and suc- 
 ceeded in his object. In this command he remained almost 
 constantly for several years afterwards, displaying in every 
 campaign the same skill, the same courage, and the same 
 firmness, opposed to the prince of Orange, a general worthy 
 of his great opponent. JN'o decisive battle, however, took 
 place till the two armies met in the neighbourhood of 
 Charleroy. The prince of Orange judged the position of 
 the French army too strong to be forced, and accordingly 
 marched upon Senef. In doing so, however, he incautiously 
 exposed his flank. Conde never suffered such a fault to* 
 escape, and instantly attacked him. Three times victory 
 seemed to crown the efforts of the French, and three times 
 the combat was renewed by the enemy in a fresh position. 
 At length, after having prolonged the battle even into the 
 night, absolute weariness caused it to cease for a time. 
 Eefore daybreak, however, the prince of Orange retreated 
 unperceived, and in the morning Conde took up his former 
 position. 
 
 Both parties claimed the victory, and the prince of 
 Orange caused a Te Deum to be sung at the Hague on the 
 occasion. Te Deums, however, are no proofs; though in 
 nine cases out of ten most impious mockeries. The ques- 
 tion of the victory is easily resolvable. The French kept 
 possession of the ground; the allied armies yielded it. 
 Therefore, though the French lost the greater number of 
 soldiers in the combat, they may be fairly considered as the 
 victors. 
 
 This was the last great battle fought by Conde. After 
 the death of Turenne, indeed, the misfortunes and reverses 
 of the army of Alsace caused the king to despatch the prince 
 to take that command ; but here, opposed to a very superior 
 force, and to the wary and deliberate Montecuculi, he was 
 obliged to refrain from those bold and brilliant strokes of 
 genius that formed the peculiar feature of his military 
 character. He maintained his position, however, on all 
 occasions, and in the end, after many most admirable and 
 effective manoeuvres, he compelled the imperial general to 
 retreat across the E-hine ; and thus once more secured the 
 frontier of his native country. 
 
 Finding his health daily declining, and his energies 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 291 
 
 unequal to the constant and multiplied cares of a great 
 command, Conde now petitioned that the duke d'Enghien, 
 his son, might be joined in authority with himself. The 
 ambition of courtiers, and the jealousy of a great but greedy 
 and envious minister, Louvois, had long been looking 
 anxiously for some means of depriving Conde of the power 
 and influence his great services had merited and acquired. 
 
 Louis XIV. himself had fully as many weaknesses as 
 great qualities ; and little doubt can exist that, military 
 glory being one of his strongest passions, he had ever been 
 jealous of that immense renown that Conde's sword had 
 won. To flatter such feelings in the breast of a king was 
 at least consistent with policy ; and it may be easily con- 
 ceived that Louvois and many others found no unwillingness 
 in their own bosom, when it became politic, to gratify 
 Louis and to disappoint Conde. 
 
 The prince's application for aid, under the pressure of 
 military business, was answered by a permission to retire 
 from his command. The Marechal de Luxembourg was 
 appointed to supply his place : but Conde for a time con- 
 tinued to frequent the court, and to aid with his counsels a 
 monarch that no longer courted the assistance of his sword. 
 At length, however, tired with the heartless routine of 
 Paris, he asked permission to quit the court altogether. 
 Louis replied, " I consent, cousin ; but it is not without 
 regret that I lose the advice of the greatest man in my 
 dominions." 
 
 This speech has been admired and lauded ; surely not for 
 its sincerity. It might be a graceful compliment, but it 
 was an empty one ; and was of course as little believed by 
 him to whom it was addressed as by him who spoke it. 
 Such speeches tell little of the character of the man that 
 makes them, though they give him an air of greatness in 
 the eyes of the multitude. "When they have been really 
 spoken by the person to whom history attributes them, we 
 may look upon them, nine times out of ten, as pieces of 
 parade ; but too often the person who bears the credit of 
 having expressed a noble sentiment in pointed language, 
 was the last to have felt such feelings, or the last to have 
 given them utterance. 
 
 Several speeches of this kind are reported to have been 
 u 2 
 
292 THE GBEAT CONDE. 
 
 spoken by Conde. "We shall only report two of them, how- 
 ever, which seem more consistent with his character than 
 any others. When he was informed at Metz of the defeat 
 of the Marechal de Crequi, w^hom he was hastening to sup- 
 port, he remarked that Crequi had before wanted nothing 
 of a good general but having been beat. As he marched 
 towards Alsace, also, to take the command of an army for- 
 merly placed under Turenne in preference to himself, he 
 remarked that there was but one thing he would desire — 
 one half-hour's conversation with the shade of Turenne. 
 
 After retiring to Chantilly, little occurred in the life of 
 Conde on which the biographer can rest. He sought for 
 happiness and contentment : whether he found it or not, no 
 one can judge. That he took the best human means is 
 beyond a doubt, and he had many of the ingredients of hap- 
 X)iness. He had repose after fatigue ; he had tranquillity 
 after excitement ; he had wealth, and the means of bene- 
 ficence. Possessing these from his situation, he took care 
 to add constant employment, though he chose it amongst 
 those placid and mild amusements that most contrasted 
 with his former occupations. The care of his gardens, the 
 conversation of all the great and distinguished characters of 
 the day, the education of his grandson, the relief of the 
 needy, but more especially those who had suffered by war ; 
 fiuch were the pleasures that solaced his retirement. 
 
 During the earlier part of his life religion had very little 
 occupied his thoughts, and in his middle age, though he was 
 far from boasting of irreligion, he is supposed to have leaned 
 . to materialism. In retirement, however, the illusive splen- 
 dour of earthly greatness passed away ; he felt aspirations 
 still, which worldly honour had left all ungratified — which 
 riches, fame, power, and even self-applause, could never 
 satisfy. He felt that there must be something more — a 
 glory beyond the glory he had won — an immortality above 
 the immortality of fame. 
 
 Conde began to doubt the foundation of his own incre- 
 dulity. Doubt of any kind was not for a mind like his ; and 
 he examined. The repentance and death of his sister, the 
 duchess of Longueville, struck him forcibly ; other causes 
 combined to change his opinions. He saw that on which- 
 ever side he turned there was much that human reason 
 could not explain ; but he saw that the truths of revelation 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE. 293 
 
 offered the only solution of his difficulties, the only expla- 
 nation of his hopes, the only object for his desires ; and 
 casting doubt from him, he turned openly and sincerely to 
 the evidence that he had heretofore rejected. 
 
 The effects of this change of opinion showed it at once to 
 be the genuine result of conviction acting on a great mind 
 in its full powers. He neither became bigoted nor super- 
 stitious. He denied not his alteration of ideas, but he 
 made no display of it. He followed the same course of life 
 that he had before followed, because he had chosen it 
 for the best ; but he added to it the exercise of the custom- 
 ary duties of religion. 
 
 The health of the great Conde had been declining ever 
 since he had quitted the command of the army ; and 
 towards the year 1686 it became apparent that anxieties 
 and fatigues had sapped the foundations of his constitution 
 so deeply, that but a few years could be added to his 
 life. 
 
 At this time the small-pox was raging in Prance with 
 unmitigated virulence, and as often besieged the palace of 
 the prince as it ravaged the cottages of the poor. The 
 duchess of Bourbon, amongst others — the grand- daughter 
 of Conde — was attacked with the most malignant species of 
 the disease ; and though suffering from excessive weakness, 
 the prince immediately set out to join her at Fontaine- 
 bleau. 
 
 Here, his weakness increased to an alarming degree, and 
 on commanding one of his physicians to tell him the 
 truth in regard to his situation, Conde was informed that 
 he had but a few days to live. 
 
 • He met the announcement with perfect calmness, and 
 immediately turned his thoughts to prepare for death both 
 in a religious and a worldly point of view. 
 
 By his will he made many dispositions which do as much 
 honour to his memory as his greatest victories. Amongst 
 other bequests Grourville mentions the sum of fifty thousand 
 crowns left for the purpose of being distributed to the sick 
 poor of those places wherein his arms had caused the 
 greatest evil during the civil wars. 
 
 Others of the same kind might be cited ; but it is time 
 to hold our hand. Conde fulfilled all the last duties of his 
 religion ; he consoled his dependents and family for the loss 
 
294 , THE GREAT CONDE. 
 
 they were about to suiFer ; he took care to reward all who 
 had served him, he endeavoured to recompense all whom he 
 had injured, and then, possessing his senses to the last, he 
 met the slow approach of death as firmly as ever he had 
 fronted him in the battle-field. 
 
 After many hours of painful expectation, the great 
 Conde breathed his last at seven in the morning of the 
 11th of December, a.d. 1686, aged sixty-four years. 
 
 We may conclude that in mind he was as noble as 
 perhaps any man in history, not so much from the victories 
 he won — for many have done the like — but from the 
 moderation with which he used success. As a commander 
 he was the greatest of his age, carrying every quality 
 of a general to the verge of excess, but stopping there. 
 His courage would have been rashness, without his judg- 
 ment; his rapidity of movement might have been termed 
 hurry, without the direction of his skill ; his perseverance 
 might have appeared obstinacy, had not success proved it to 
 be firmness. In all his great victories he began the attack, 
 and in almost all instances he led the charge in person ; at 
 his last battle (Senef) having charged fifteen times at the 
 head of his guards. Such conduct would not redound 
 to his credit as a general according to the modern system 
 of warfare ; nor perhaps would it have been justifiable even 
 then, had he not been one of those extraordinary men who 
 never lose the coolness of their mind in the heat of bodily 
 exertion, the clearness of their view amongst a multiplicity 
 of objects, their calmness in danger, or their temperance 
 in victory. 
 
 In person he was striking, if not strictly handsome, and 
 many persons mention the peculiar sparkling of his eyes as 
 something not to be forgotten. 
 
 His manners .were quick and decided, which gave them 
 an appearance of roughness to those who did not know 
 him, and of rudeness to those whom he did not like. He 
 was, however, warm-hearted and benevolent, ardent to serve 
 his friends, eager to repair pain he had occasioned or injury 
 he had done; fiery to his enemies, but easily appeased. 
 His anger was like the lightning — if it struck, it slew ; but 
 if it passed by, it was instantly extinguished. 
 
 His greatest faults were to one who loved him dearly, 
 and strove to merit his afifection — his wife. But the force 
 
THE GEEAT CONDE, 295 
 
 ■which had been put upon his inclinations in the matter of 
 his marriage blasted all regard on his part towards the 
 unfortunate lady to whom the bonds of policy had tied him 
 in his youth ; and he seems never to have forgotten that she 
 was the niece of the detested Cardinal de [Richelieu. 
 
 Conde was a great man, but in this he was inexcusable, 
 that he neglected and pained a woman w^hose virtues he 
 could not doubt, and whose love for him was of such 
 a quality as to induce her to throw off the fears of her sex 
 in his defence, and boldly to take arms to free him from 
 a prison. 
 
 We would fain have recorded nothing but the good ; but 
 as there was this evil in his character, we have been obliged 
 to tell it. The sorrow, however, which we experience that 
 such a man was not altogether perfect, is wholesome in 
 itself. The contrast of his many shining virtues makes us 
 feel more painfully his fault, and shows that to have been a 
 great man amongst the greatest, to have possessed a noble 
 and a feeling heart, — to have w^ell fulfilled the duties 
 of a general, a friend, and a father, cannot be admitted as 
 even a palliation, in the minds of those who read and judge, 
 ;for the neglect of one duty, the breach of one morai tie. 
 
296 
 
 JOHN CHURCHILL, 
 
 DUKE or MAELBOEOUGH. 
 
 Born 24 th of June, 1650 — Deficient education — An ensign at fifteen — 
 His first military expedition — Serves under Turenne — Accompanies 
 the duke of York in his exile — Marries Sarah Jennings — Created 
 Lord Churchill — Ambassador to France — Battle of Sedgmoor — Is 
 created earl of Marlborough by William — Actively concerned in the^ 
 ^Revolution — Lieutenant-general to William III. — In disgrace — Com^ 
 mitted to the Tower — Restored to favour — Battles of Blenheim, 
 Eamilies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet — Ambassador to Charles XIL. 
 — Declines in royal favour — Dies in retirement 16th of June, 1722. 
 
 Sudden excesses in nations, as in men, are almost always- 
 followed by rapid changes to the opposite extreme ; and it 
 is not till after long vibrations that society, like a pendulum, 
 having been once disturbed, returns to ultimate repose. 
 The revolution which overthrew the throne of Charles I. ; 
 the scenes of blood, of murder, and of crime, by which it 
 was accompanied ; the excesses of liberty, the intolerance 
 of those who had fought for toleration, and the stern but 
 beneficial tyranny of Cromwell — were naturally succeeded 
 by base servility to a restored monarch. He, on his part, 
 scourged but not amended by adversity ; too good-humoured 
 to be a tyrant ; too easy to raise himself ; too selfish to 
 benefit others ; without dignity, virtue, or religiou ; with 
 but one good quality of the heart — gentleness, and one 
 bright quality of the mind — wit, — met with crouching and 
 subservient slaves in the same people who had butchered 
 his virtuous and noble predecessor, more from the natural 
 transition of popular feeling to the extreme opposite 
 of that into which it had formerly been hurried, than 
 from any permanent debasement in the mind of man. As 
 after the access of a fever, lassitude had followed the fiery 
 strength of frenzy. Nor was this less observable in the 
 moral than in the political state of England. Eeligion, 
 which had been a madness and a passion, now became a 
 scoff and a reproach. Virtue, which had been grave andi 
 
JOHN CHTIECHILL. 297 
 
 stern, now fled altogether, or walked but a step behind vice. 
 Mirth and mockery succeeded gravity and fanaticism ; vice, 
 lust, luxury, avarice, infidelity, took the place of ascetic 
 severity, parsimony, and rigour; and impotent risings, 
 mingled with pretended conspiracies, appeared instead of 
 bloody and ferocious wars, general animosities, and merci- 
 less vengeance. 
 
 In the midst of the horrors of the civil wars was born, 
 and in the midst of the vices of the Eestoration was edu- 
 cated, John Churchill, afterwards famous as duke of Marl- 
 borough. His descent has been traced from heroes and 
 statesmen, and many centuries of hereditary honour are 
 called upon by his biographers to give dignity to his name. 
 Properly considered, ancestral glory is rather an obligation 
 than a claim, and requires from us great exertions in ita 
 support, rather than confers any lustre upon our own 
 actions. Probably, if there ever was a man who, in the 
 greatness of his progenitors could have found nothing with 
 which to reproach himself, such was the duke of Marlbo- 
 rough ; but, without seeking for accessory dignity in the 
 uncertain rolls of genealogy, John Churchill accumulated in 
 his own person sufficient glory to have ennobled a whole 
 race. 
 
 It is, nevertheless, undoubted that his family was ancient 
 and respectable. His father was a private gentleman of 
 Wotton Basset, in Wiltshire; and his mother was a 
 daughter of Sir John Drake, of Ash, in Devonshire. The 
 devoted adherence of his father to the royal cause during 
 the civil wars, brought temporary ruin on his house ; and the 
 mother of the great general was forced to take refuge at 
 the seat of his grandfather, where he was brought into the 
 world on the 24th of June, 1650. With the Eestoration 
 the prosperity of his family returned ; his father wa» 
 knighted, sent to parliament, and employed in several 
 offices of trust and emolument; and the young John 
 Churchill, who was then a second son, was placed by Sir 
 Winston Churchill under the fcare of a clergyman of the 
 church of England, who probably, in the course of his edu- 
 cation, impressed his mind with those political and religious^ 
 principles which afterwards affected the course of his 
 whole existence. 
 
 Anxious for his son's advancement, Sir Winston Churchill 
 
:298 JOHN CHURCHILL, 
 
 withdrew him, at the age of twelve, from the private mode 
 of life in which he had hitherto been brought up ; and, 
 obtaining for him the place of page of honour to the duke 
 of York (afterwards James II.), he plunged him at once 
 into the midst of a dissolute and unprincipled court. Here 
 the business of life was pleasure ; the moralities and even 
 the decencies of society were done away ; and it is far more 
 wonderful that the young John Churchill escaped many of 
 the vices that surrounded him than that he became 
 affected by some. He seems to have yielded as little 
 to the depravity of the scene as any of its actors ; and there 
 he certainly acquired that grace of action and that dignity 
 of demeanour which, joined to high talent and personal 
 beauty, rendered him the most distinguished man not only 
 of his country but of his age. 
 
 It is not, of course, ray object to commemorate the scan- 
 dals which only the wit of a Hamilton could render toler- 
 able, or to paint the manners of a libertine court ; yet it 
 may be necessary to state, that some of Marlborough's 
 most inflated panegyrists have accused him of intriguing 
 with one of the mistresses of the king, and of using a 
 criminal passion for a sordid purpose — I would not imply 
 as a means of promotion alone, but as a source of wealth; 
 and if this was the case, we may trace thus early that low 
 passion for money which has left a stain upon one of the 
 brightest names in history. 
 
 The society of the duke of York, naturally of a fearless 
 and warlike disposition, may well be supposed to have 
 encouraged in the heart of Marlborough that military 
 inclination of which he is said to have given strong and 
 early indications. At fifteen he received from the hand of 
 the prince the commission of ensign in the Gruards, and 
 volunteered his services against the Moors, who were then 
 besieging Tangier. In this expedition he first distin- 
 guished himself as a soldier ; but few particulars of any 
 import are preserved. He returned to the court with 
 honour ; and, becoming intimate with the gallant, unhappy 
 duke of Monmouth, he obtained a company in his regiment, 
 and followed him to Prance. 
 
 At this time, Louis XIY. was preparing for that great 
 expedition against Holland which I have had occasion 
 to refer to previously ; and Charles II. had been induced 
 
DUKE or MAELBOEOUGH. 299 
 
 to grant an auxiliary force of 6,000 men to support an 
 overgrown power, and depress a nation which it was his 
 best interest to uphold. Churchill marched with the Eng- 
 lish forces, and being joined to the division more especially 
 •commanded by Turenne, he soon drew upon himself the no- 
 tice of the most skilful general of his age, and distinguished 
 himself in the brilliant campaigns that followed, in such a 
 manner as to leave no doubt of his future eminence. At 
 the capture of Orsay, Ehineburg, Emmerick, Doesburg, 
 ^utphen, and Utrecht, Churchill studied, under the greatest 
 masters of the period, that science by which men have 
 dreamed of winning immortality in dispensing death. Yet, 
 as defence must sometimes be a necessity, the study of war 
 must be a benefit ; for, as one principal object in every art 
 is to accomplish the greatest purposes with the least expense 
 of means, humanity becomes an essential part of the science 
 of arms. It may be remarked, also, that the most skilful 
 generals have almost always been the most merciful ; and 
 had Marlborough sought for lessons in humanity, he could 
 not have found it better taught than by Turenne towards 
 his own soldiery, and by Conde towards his enemy. 
 
 The title of the " handsome Englishman," which Captain 
 Churchill had by this time generally received in the Erench 
 army, is said to have been given him by Turenne ; but he 
 soon acquired higher titles to distinction. His conduct on 
 all occasions was gallant and resolute, and at the attack of 
 the counterscarp of Maestricht (where he received a severe 
 wound) he so signalized himself that the duke of Mon- 
 mouth, who led the assault, attributed his success to him, 
 and the king of Erance publicly thanked him for his services 
 and recommended him to the further notice and patronage 
 of the English monarch. 
 
 With such claims on favour Captain Churchill returned 
 to England ; and we may hope that, even if his sister's 
 frailty had not seconded his pretensions with the duke of 
 Tork, his own merit would have secured him reward and 
 promotion. 
 
 He was almost immediately named gentleman of the bed- 
 ichamber, and master of the robes to the duke, and was at 
 the same time appointed to a lieutenant-colonelcy of the line. 
 
 Peace was soon concluded with the Dutch ; and the Eng- 
 lish forces having been recalled from Erance, Colonel 
 
300 JOHN CHTJECniLL, 
 
 Churchill remained for some years in inactivity ; a period on 
 which I will not pause, as his conduct during that time 
 brought no great honour to himself or advantage to his 
 country. His promotion, however, continued, and at the- 
 age of thirty we find him a full colonel. 
 
 The internal politics of England had by this time under- 
 gone a considerable change. License was still the character 
 of the court, but slavish adulation was no longer the mood 
 of the people. The great body of the nation professed the 
 reformed religion ; and hatred against the Catholics became 
 the bond of union amongst the factious and discontented. 
 
 The duke of York had openly professed himself an ad- 
 herent of the Eoman church ; and the Parliament, a willing 
 agent in the hands of the Protestant party, passed the 
 famous Test Act, and countenanced the general enmity to- 
 wards the Catholics. That enmity grew from a prejudice to 
 a passion. Under such circumstances there is always some 
 person ready to turn the popular frenzy to his own ad- 
 vantage ; and that person is almost uniformly one of the 
 lowest and most degraded of his race — one whom at other 
 times a nation would shun with scorn or crush with indig- 
 nation, but whom, in the madness of excited passion, they 
 follow to crime, bloodshed, and their own destruction. In 
 the present instance that person was the infamous Titus 
 Gates ; and by the denunciation of a fictitious plot, the ac- 
 cusation of many innocent persons, and the production of 
 witnesses as perjured and detestable as himself, he at once 
 profited by and influenced the popular fury, till Charles 
 yielded full way to the Protestant party, and James duke- 
 of York was commanded to quit the country and proceed 
 to the Low Countries. As one of the officers of that prince's- 
 household, Colonel Churchill accompanied him in his 
 exile. 
 
 Marked as England has ever been in the history of the 
 world for party animosities, never did faction run so high, 
 except in the time of actual civil war, as between the years 
 1678 and 1683. Shaftesbury, the famous Achitophel of 
 Dryden, raised storm after storm round the vessel of the 
 state ; and so great was his influence, that on King Charles^ 
 being seized with a severe illness in the autumn of 1679^ 
 Halifax and Essex found it necessary to call the duke of 
 York immediately to the spot, lest, prompted bv Shaftes- 
 
DUKE OF MAELBOBOITGH. 301 
 
 bury, the monarch's natural son, the duke of Monmouth, 
 should seize on the crown in the event of the king's death. 
 
 Charles recovered ; and it was judged expedient to repre- 
 sent the coming of the prince as uncalled for and spontane- 
 vous ; but James received permission to transfer his residence 
 to Scotland, where, with a short interval spent in England, 
 he remained for two years. 
 
 Colonel Churchill accompanied the duke in almost all his 
 migrations, conducted many of his political intrigues, and 
 was one of the chief ornaments of the court which James 
 Jield in Edinburgh. About this period of his life took place 
 his marriage with the celebrated Sarah Jennings ; and it is 
 curious to observe how events, over which he had himself no 
 control, combined to favour his advancement. The disgrace 
 of his sister was probably one of his first steps to glory ; 
 and his marriage produced consequences that the eye of the 
 most calculating wisdom could never have foreseen. 
 
 Sarah Jennings was one of the household of the Princess 
 Anne, the youngest of the duke of York's daughters. She 
 was a great favourite also of her royal mistress ; and so far 
 this alliance seemed likely to strengthen Colonel Churchill's 
 influence at the court of the duke, but to produce no 
 greater effects ; for none could foretell that she who, not 
 long after, seemed in a degree separated from England by 
 accepting the hand of the prince of Denmark, would ever 
 come to reign in Great Britain with undivided sway. Such, 
 however, was the case with the Princess Anne ; and her re- 
 membered affection for the favourite of her youth proved 
 the stay and support of Marlborough in all his great 
 exploits. 
 
 Disgusted wdth opposition which he knew to be unsup- 
 ported by union, and tired of clamour in which the voice 
 of reason was less heard than the loud tongue of faction 
 and prejudice, Charles II., towards the end of 1681, dis- 
 solved the Parliament, and fearlessly assumed those pre- 
 rogatives as rights for whish his father had vainly shed his 
 blood. His brother James, always the advocate of arbitrary 
 power, was instantly recalled from Scotland, to aid in sowing 
 that seed of which he himself was destined to reap the 
 bitter fruits at an after-period ; and in both his journey to 
 London and in his return to Edinburgh the duke was 
 accompanied by Colonel Churchill 
 
302 ^ JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 This circumstance would be hardly worthy of record, were- 
 it not that, on the voyage back to Scotland, the vessel in 
 which James and his suite had embarked was wrecked near 
 the mouth of the Humber, and the majority of those on 
 board perished. Thus at once England had nearly lost one 
 of her most successful generals and one of her most unwise 
 kings ; and the man whose folly caused his own expulsion,, 
 and the man whose talent upheld the counsels that expelled 
 him, had nearly gone to the bottom of the sea together.. 
 They were saved, however, in the same boat ; and shortly 
 after, James, having obtained vast empire over the mind of 
 his brother, solicited a peerage for his companion in danger,, 
 which was immediately granted. Colonel Churchill now 
 became Lord Churchill of Aymouth in Scotland, but did 
 not receive an English peerage till after the duke of York's 
 accession to the throne of Great Britain. 
 
 From the moment of his brother's return to the court of 
 London, the only redeeming qualities of the government of 
 King Charles were lost. The easy pliancy of the king's 
 disposition seemed hardened into obdurate tyranny, and 
 the blood of many of the best and noblest of the English 
 nation dyed the axe of the executioner. From the effects- 
 of his influence on the reigning monarch the people learned 
 to anticipate the character of James's future government ;, 
 but the want of union amongst the various parties of the 
 kingdom prevented successful resistance, while crushed 
 plots and quelled insurrections strengthened the temporary 
 power of the monarch. 
 
 Thus proceeded the affairs of the state till the sudden 
 death of Charles placed the reins of government in the 
 hands of James II. ; from which period a succession of 
 various acts of violence and injustice impressed more and 
 more deeply every day on the minds of the nation the abso- 
 lute necessity of a combined effort to stay the progress of 
 arbitrary power. 
 
 It is a negative sort of praise to the character of Lord 
 Churchill, that his approbation or support cannot be traced 
 to any of the acts of folly and wickedness which precipitated 
 James II. from the throne, although during the whole of 
 that unhappy reign he remained the friend and favourite 
 of the monarch. Immediately on the death of Charles, 
 Churchill was despatched as ambassador extraordinary to 
 
DUKE or MAELBOEOTJGIl. 303^ 
 
 the court of Erance, for the purpose of announcing James's 
 accession ; and shortly after his return, having been raised 
 to the rank of lieutenant-general, he commanded under 
 the earl of Eeversham against his former friend and patron 
 the duke of Monmouth. It would appear that the earl of 
 Peversham had taken few of those precautions against the 
 rebels which every general is bound to do, whatever may be 
 the situation of his adversary. Encamped at Sedgmoor, he 
 contented himself with harassing the decreasing forces of 
 the duke of Monmouth, without guarding against any suddert 
 attack upon his own. Not so, however, Lord Churchill ; and 
 when Monmouth, having marched in the night to surprise 
 the royal forces, arrived unexpectedly at Sedgmoor, he found 
 his former friend up and prepared to give him full employ-^ 
 ment till the whole of the king's army could be brought into 
 a fit state of defence. In the early light of a July morning 
 the battle became general. The cavalry of the rebels was- 
 mounted on wild unbroke horses, which became unmanage- 
 able at the sound of fire-arms ; the infantry had not sufficient 
 ammunition, and the supplies had been left behind. Eor 
 some time despair compensated all deficiencies; but ulti- 
 mately discipline and force prevailed, and the rebels were 
 routed with great slaughter. 
 
 The death of Monmouth is well known ; and we can but 
 regret that no reason whatever exists for supposing that 
 Lord Churchill exerted himself in any way to mitigate or 
 avert the fate of him who had been his friend, his protector^ 
 and his companion in arms. 
 
 It is unnecessary here to trace the events which hastened 
 the consummation of the reign of James II. It may be 
 sufficient to say that, outraging the prejudices of the people^ 
 as well as the laws of the land, he drew upon himself both 
 hatred and contempt. Many fled to the court of the prince 
 of Orange, and many who remained secretly invited that 
 prince to restore law and liberty to England. Amongst the 
 latter number there is every reason to believe that Lord 
 Churchill was one of the most influential ; nor can we doubt 
 that he had long corresponded with the malcontents at the 
 court of William, and aided in planning that defection of 
 the Princess Anne and her husband which took his last hope 
 from the bosom of James II. 
 
 In moments of contention affecting the interest of a 
 
W4i JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 nation, neutrality in men of high station and power is 
 seldom justifiable ; but there are cases in which it is more 
 than expedient. No one can deny that to the mind of 
 Marlborough, early imbued with the principles of the Pro- 
 testant religion, the actions of King James must have 
 appeared both those of a tyrant and a madman. His pre- 
 judices, his patriotism, and his reason must all have com- 
 bined to make him wish for a change which would put an 
 end to the abuses and evils of the king's government ; but 
 to King James also he owed everything — rank, station, 
 fortune, opportunity. If ever the chains of gratitude should 
 have bound the hands of any man, his was the case. To fight 
 against his country and against his conviction, nothing cer- 
 tainly should have induced him to do ; but to betray his 
 king, to abandon his benefactor, to aid in snatching the 
 sceptre from the hand which had showered favours and 
 honours and wealth upon his head — this was he not called to 
 do either. Between the two there was a vast mean ; and 
 liere neutrality was honour. 
 
 "William III., as is well known, after landing in Torbay 
 with a small force, remained some time without being joined 
 by any considerable number of those who had invited him 
 to their shore. King James, with a superior power, ad- 
 vanced to meet him ; but some hesitation and delay in the 
 royal movements afibrded a fair opportunity for the dis- 
 satisfied to quit their lord. Amongst the first was Lord 
 Churchill, in conjunction with Prince Greorge of Denmark. 
 At the same time his wife, the Lady Churchill, prompted, 
 assisted, and accompanied the Princess Anne in her escape 
 from London. After this the power of the invader increased 
 every moment, while that of the monarch diminished ; and, 
 losing hope and energy, James abandoned the field to his 
 successful rival. William marched on towards London ; and 
 Lord Churchill was sent to the city, where, under pretence 
 •of re-assembling his regiment of horse, he remained for 
 some time investigating the state of parties, and preparing 
 the way for the events which placed the crown of England 
 on the head of the prince of Orange. 
 
 In all those events he had a share. He signed the 
 famous association for the defence and support of the prince, 
 and voted the address requesting William to take upon 
 himself the temporary administration of affairs. With the 
 
DUKE OF MAELBOEOUGn. 305 
 
 most consummate policy, however, he held aloof from all 
 discussions where the interests of Mary and Anne, the two 
 heiresses of the vacant crown, were discordant, and only 
 appeared to vote in favour of William and Mary, after 
 Anne had been induced to consent to their nomination to 
 the throne. 
 
 His behaviour was of course qualified by some as pru- 
 dence, and stigmatized by others as art ; but at all events it 
 proved eminently successful, and before the new monarch's 
 coronation. Lord Churchill had become earl of Marlborough 
 and gentleman of the king's bedchamber. Hitherto we 
 have seen but little of Marlborough in a military capacity. 
 He had always shown himself a gallant and successful 
 officer under the command of others ; but a very different 
 and infinitely enlarged sphere began now to open before 
 him, and though various circumstances combined at first to 
 render his progress slow towards that eminence which he 
 afterwards attained, yet, from the beginning of the reign of 
 King William, we may look upon his career begun as a 
 great commander. 
 
 Either from accident, or from the earl of Marlborough's 
 own unwillingness to serve against his old master, who, 
 supported by the arms of France, had by this time landed 
 in Ireland, the rising general was despatched to Holland to 
 command the English forces in the Netherlands, while 
 William himself proceeded to oppose James in person. 
 The battle of Walcourt, and the capture of Bonn, called 
 the eyes of Europe more particularly to Marlborough ; and 
 though his efibrts were restricted by the presence of a 
 superior officer, and by the want of sufficient forces, yet 
 his name began to spread amongst foreign nations ; and the 
 skilful in the art of war turned their attention upon the 
 new commander, from whose conduct something extraor- 
 dinary seems to have been already anticipated. 
 
 The prince of Waldeck, under whom he served in the 
 Low Countries, bore the most ample testimony to his 
 courage and skill ; and on his return to England he was 
 appointed to command a new body of troops destined for 
 Ireland. 
 
 James had some time before been expelled from that 
 country by the arms of William III. ; but Cork, Kinsale, 
 
 X 
 
S06 JOHN CHURCHILL, 
 
 and several other places, still held out for the deposed 
 monarch ; and it was against these that Marlborough was 
 destined to act. 
 
 I must not pause upon the sieges of Cork and Kinsale, 
 as events of far greater import lie before me for detail. 
 Both those -cities were taken with great rapidity in the 
 midst of winter, and by the skill and activity of Marl- 
 borough the hopes of James upon the kingdom of Ireland 
 were annihilated. It may be necessary, however, to mark 
 an instance of that prudent moderation which formed a 
 very dignified point in the character of that great general. 
 On his arrival in Ireland, Marlborough found the duke of 
 Wirtemburg commanding a considerable body of auxiliaries, 
 with whom he was obliged to act. The duke of Wirtem- 
 burg was, like himself, a lieutenant-general, and, as a prince, 
 demanded the supreme command. Marlborough required 
 that station also, as the senior officer, and refused to admit 
 the principle that civil rank gave any military authority ; 
 but finding that the dispute was likely to prove detrimental 
 to the general interest, he compromised his claim without 
 compromising the principle, and commanded on alternate 
 days. 
 
 The great success of Marlborough's winter, sieges pro- 
 duced from King William the well-known saying, that he 
 knew no man so fit as the earl to be a general who had 
 seen so few campaigns. In the following year (1691) Wil- 
 liam proceeded to Holland, in order to conduct the opera- 
 tions of the allied army himself, and thither Marlborough 
 accompanied him as lieutenant-general. Neither the pre- 
 sence of the monarch, nor that of the earl, produced any 
 great efiect ; for, notwithstanding all Marlborough's efforts, 
 Mons was taken ; and after innumerable and well-combined 
 manoeuvres, all that William could effect to compensate the 
 loss of that city was the insignificant capture of Beaumont 
 and the preservation of Liege. 
 
 So far the favour of the court had not been wanting to 
 the advancement of Marlborough ; but a period of reverses 
 was now at hand. Various causes had combined to counter- 
 act, in the mind of William, whatever effects gratitude for 
 eminent services might have produced to the earl's advan- 
 tage ; and of so taciturn and serious a character was that 
 monarch, that his enmities could rarely be distinguished 
 
DTJUE UJf MABLBOROUGII. 307 
 
 from his friendsliips, till the moment came for bringing 
 forth their fruits. With Marlborough that moment had 
 now arrived. The king received him, and trusted him to 
 the last instant ; but the parliamentary settlement of fifty 
 thousand pounds per annum on the Princess Anne, v^rhich 
 rendered her independent of the court, had been promoted 
 chiefly by the earl, and was never forgotten by the monarch ; 
 the opposition of the English officers and nobility to the 
 elevation of foreigners both in the army and in the state 
 had received the open sanction of Marlborough, and was 
 another unforgiven offence. Whether any suspicions of 
 the earl's good faith had also been instilled into the mind 
 of William, does not appear ; but it seems certain that his 
 disgrace had been long contemplated, before the least sign 
 warned the race of courtiers to fly the object of the 
 monarch's displeasure. 
 
 On the return of the king from Holland, he was named 
 as one of those appointed to accompany him to the next cam- 
 paign ; and on the very morning of his dismissal, he was 
 admitted to an audience, for the purpose of presenting 
 Lord George Hamilton to the monarch, on some occasion 
 of courtly etiquette. In the afternoon of the same day 
 that nobleman is said to have announced to Marlborough 
 that the king had no further occasion for his services. He 
 was deprived at once of his post of lieutenant-general of the 
 infantry, of his regiment, and of his office as gentleman of 
 the bedchamber. At the same time his wife was forbidden 
 the court ; and the Princess Anne, feeling herself involved 
 in the disgrace of her favourite, withdrew also from the 
 scenes where the other was not suffered to appear — a fortu- 
 nate circumstance for the earl and countess of Marlborough, 
 who thus secured the attachment of the future queen by 
 those strong ties which are formed by community of suf- 
 fering. 
 
 It has been alleged that Marlborough, in some moment 
 of weakness, had betrayed to his wife the design which 
 King William had formed of attacking Dunkirk, and that 
 the countess, with the idle facility of female confidence, had 
 revealed the secret to another. There are many reasons for 
 believing that this was but one of the lying whispers of a 
 court, spread abroad probably by those who thought it 
 
 X 2 
 
308 JOHN CHrECHILL, 
 
 necessary to assign some reason for the king's conduct^ 
 though he did not find himself called upon to justify it 
 himself. Certain it is, that William suffered himself to be 
 pressed almost beyond the bounds of respect by Admiral 
 Eussell, without condescending to assign any motive for his 
 displeasure towards Marlborough. 
 
 Calumny usually follows disgrace ; and it too often hap- 
 pens that there are men who strive to enrich or to raise 
 themselves at the expense of those who have been stricken, 
 by the hand of power, like those most disgusting of wild 
 beasts that prey upon the carcases which others have de- 
 prived of life. 
 
 A few infamous informers took advantage of Marl- 
 borough's disgrace, and of the existing animosities in the 
 state, and, modelling their plot upon those to which the 
 former reign had given birth, they accused the earl and 
 several other noblemen of high treason. A treasonable 
 document was produced, to which the names of the intended 
 victims were attached with so skilful a forgery that the 
 parties themselves were obliged to declare their only reason 
 for knowing the signatures to be false, was the certainty 
 of never having signed the paper to which they were 
 affixed. 
 
 Marlborough, with the rest of the accused, was com- 
 mitted to the Tower ; but those who had conspired against 
 them had miscalculated both the character of the king and 
 the spirit of the times. "William sought to crush no one 
 but Trance ; and though he loved to reward those who 
 assisted his views, and to remove from his path all that 
 opposed him, his enmity extended no farther. With the 
 people, too, though party might still be a passion, yet it 
 was no longer madness. The plot was investigated to the 
 bottom, the accused were liberated, and the conspirators 
 punished. 
 
 No compensation followed for unmerited disgraces. 
 Marlborough, though acquitted, was suffered to retire from 
 the court, and might have spent those brilliant years that 
 brought his genius into blossom in unproductive solitude, 
 had not a great change come over the political horizon. 
 Whether in the bosom of Queen Mary a degree of petty 
 jealousy of her sister might not produce the neglect and 
 persecution of him who had tended to render that sister 
 
DUKE OF MARLBOEOUGH. 30^ 
 
 independent, cannot be exactly determined. That Mary 
 was jealous of the Princess Anne there can be no doubt ; 
 and that she would fain have kept her in a state of pitiful 
 dependence on her own will is equally certain. "We find, 
 also, that the conduct of King "William changed at her 
 decease both towards his sister-in-law and towards the earl 
 of Marlborough. 
 
 Marlborough nevertheless was not yet destined to enjoy 
 any long period of tranquillity unassailed. Shortly after 
 the death of Queen Mary, the infamous Fenwick, to save 
 himself from the consequences of the treasonable machina- 
 tions in which he had been detected, accused a multitude of 
 gentlemen, of whom the earl of Marlborough was one, of 
 conspiracy to restore the banished house of Stuart. The 
 falsehood of Fenwick's charges was clearly proved, and in- 
 stead of procuring him immunity, aided in conducting him 
 to the scaffold. 
 
 From this moment Marlborough returned to the councils 
 of England ; and the confidence with which King "William 
 trusted him, as well as the unusually favourable language 
 with which that taciturn monarch expressed himself in 
 regard to his conduct, formed a strange contrast with the 
 silent disgrace that he had so lately experienced. 
 
 Mary had been childless : not so Anne ; and ber son, the 
 duke of Gloucester, has received all those exaggerated 
 praises which are commonly showered on infant princes. 
 •Before vices are called forth, or virtues are tried, it is easy 
 to discover excellences, and to magnify the natural graces 
 and liveliness of childhood into splendid qualities and extra- 
 ordinary talents. Such was the case with the young duke 
 of Grloucester ; and, putting aside the commonplaces of con- 
 temporary adulation and prejudice, it is hardly possible to 
 say what was his real disposition. Nevertheless, there is 
 every reason to believe that, had he lived, he would have 
 proved one of the most eminent of our English kings, for 
 iiad he even possessed moderate natural abilities, and a good 
 original character, he could hardly have failed to become 
 great, with a Burnet for his preceptor and a Marlborough 
 -for his governor. 
 
 To this post — one of the most important charges which 
 could be confided to any person — Marlborough was nomi- 
 nated by the king himself, who gave his nephew to his care 
 
310 JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 with the flattering command, " Make him like yourself, m^ 
 lord, and you will make him all that I can wish." 
 
 The words alone might have been one of those phrasc-f 
 which so seldom have meaning on the lips of any one ; but, 
 combined with the trust reposed — the education of a king 
 for a great nation, — they were one of the most splendid 
 compliments that ever a monarch addressed to his subject. 
 
 'Nov was this the only proof of William's restored confi- 
 dence in Marlborough. On all that sovereign's frequent 
 absences from England, the earl was appointed one of the 
 lords justices for administering the affairs of the nation 
 till the king's return ; and on the death of his pupil, the duke 
 of Gloucester, he was appointed commander-in-cliief of the 
 British forces in Holland, and plenipotentiary for conduct- 
 ing the negotiations at the Hague. 
 
 The treaty of E-yswick had for a space restored tranquil- 
 lity to Europe ; but, amongst all the hollow contrivances 
 with which monarchs and nations have from time to time 
 covered over their enmities and interests, in order to give 
 time for recruiting their strength and renewing the means 
 of war, none was ever more false or unreal than that peace 
 of Kyswick. The last thing that either William or Louis 
 dreamt of was amity, and as soon as those sinews were 
 rested which carried on the struggle, each prepared to 
 resume the contest with as much acrimony as before. Wil- 
 liam perhaps was ready earlier than his antagonist, and 
 Louis soon added the only thing that was wanting to his 
 adversary's means, by affording so fair a pretext, that the 
 people of England were anxious to co-operate in the war 
 that the king had long meditated. 
 
 James 11. died at St. G-ermains, and Louis XIV., not- 
 withstanding much opposition in his council, instantly 
 acknowledged his son as king of England. Every other 
 country under his influence followed his example ; and con- 
 sequently the French charge d'affaires was dismissed from 
 London, while the English ambassador was recalled from 
 the court of Versailles. 
 
 Addresses from various parts of England were presented 
 to the king, assuring him of aid and support ; and William, 
 then in Holland, prepared to take the field against Erance, 
 assisted by all the resources of England, and strengthened 
 by alliances with foreign powers. But he was destined to- 
 
DUKE OF MAELBOEOUGH. 311 
 
 transmit the war he contemplated to his successor. 'Na- 
 turally of a weak constitution, and worn by incessant toils 
 in war and application to public business, William's health 
 had been long declining ; nor can there be any doubt that 
 his life must soon have termiuated, even had no accident 
 hurried it to its close. A fall from his horse, however, by 
 which his collar-bone was broken and his lungs in some 
 degree lacerated, proved the proximate cause of his death, 
 and on the 8th of March, 1702, he left to the Princess Anne 
 a kingdom full of factions, a revenue burdened with con- 
 siderable debt, and an approaching war. 
 
 Although respect and honour had been shown to the 
 Princess Anne after the death of her sister. Queen Mary, 
 she had not been permitted to exercise the slightest political 
 influence. JSTor does it seem probable that she strove to do 
 so. She wisely abstained from all faction, put herself at the 
 head of no party, recommended none to office, and was per- 
 fectly content, according to the statement of Burnet, with 
 the honour and employment to which her favourite Marl- 
 borough had been restored by King William. 
 
 That she felt in some degree mortified at her exclusion 
 from all share of public transactions, may be inferred from 
 the immediate removal of all William's ministers after his 
 death. It became evident, also, that the star of Marl- 
 borough was now in the ascendant. He was immediately 
 despatched to Holland in the quality of ambassador, to re- 
 assure the States, who were overwhelmed with grief and 
 consternation on the news of the king's death ; and while 
 Prince George of Denmark was honoured with the empty 
 title of generalissimo of all the queen's forces by land and 
 sea, Marlborough swayed the counsels of Britain, and pre- 
 pared to lead her armies in the field. 
 
 The alliances which had been formed by William were 
 strengthened and confirmed, notwithstanding all the en- 
 deavours of the French court; and the union between 
 England and Holland was still more strongly cemented by 
 the appointment of Marlborough to the chief command of 
 the Dutch troops. JSTo activity was wanting in taking every 
 measure for carrying on the meditated war with success; 
 and, all being complete, a formal declaration of hostility was 
 drawn up, well furnished with those vague and convenient 
 excuses whereby treaties are rendered of no avail. 
 
S12 JOHK CHURCHILL, 
 
 All Europe was filled with preparations, but the war 
 began first amongst the petty and disjointed states of the 
 Germanic confederation, several of whose princes adhered 
 to France, and refused to join in the alliance with England. 
 Prompt means were instantly employed to force them into 
 the treaty, and all were reduced to acquiescence except the 
 elector of Bavaria. At the same time three armies were 
 raised by Holland, which menaced the united interest of 
 Erance and Spain on three distinct points. Cohorn ad- 
 vanced upon Bruges, and obtained various partial successes; 
 Keyservaert was taken by the prince of Nassau ; Landau 
 was besieged by the prince of Baden; and the earl of 
 Athlone, by prompt and skilful generalship, succeeded in 
 out-manoeuvring the Erench general Boufflers, and saving 
 Mineguen, which was threatened by the arm}^ of Erance. 
 
 "Whilst these events were taking place in the Low Coun- 
 tries, Marlborough remained in England, using every pre- 
 caution to secure his power at home, and to insure that 
 regular supply of money and troops from Grreat Britain 
 which was necessary to maintain his own preponderance in 
 the councils of the allies, and to carry on the war with 
 vigour and success. 
 
 In the month of May Marlborough was appointed 
 master-general of the ordnance, in addition to his other 
 posts ; and, invested with powers as ambassador, as well as 
 commander-in-chief, he set out for Holland. 
 
 At this period Marlborough had seen very few campaigns, 
 had gained no very brilliant successes, and had displayed no 
 extraordinary skill or superiority over the great officers of 
 his age. At the same the earl of Athlone had, by prudence, 
 activity, and foresight, foiled a well-designed and well- 
 executed plan of the Erench general, and had established a 
 claim of no small force upon the Dutch government, by saving 
 their line of military operations from infraction, and covering 
 the vast tract of country which would have been laid open 
 had Boufflers proved successful. In this state of things, 
 several of the Dutch officers instigated the earl of Athlone 
 to insist upon sharing the command with Marlborough, to 
 which the rank of velt-marshal afforded a good title ; but 
 the United States, probably less from a knowledge of the 
 ambassador's military talents, than from deference to Queen 
 Anne, immediately appointed her favourite generalissimo, 
 
DUKE OF MAELBQEOUGH. 313 
 
 cand strictly enjoined all other officers in their service to 
 submit to his command. 
 
 Never was a stronger instance of happy selection than in 
 the case of Marlborough. He rose without pride, and he 
 triumphed without vanity. The possession of high station 
 and great power was used to raise and protect those that 
 lent it, not to depress his personal rivals ; and the graceful 
 influence of courtly manners was employed to harmonize 
 jarring interests and discordant prejudices, and to heal 
 wounded vanity or disappointed expectation, not to deceive 
 for the purposes of private aggrandizement. 
 
 Marlborough took care, on joining the army, to conciliate 
 the earl of Athlone by every means in his power; and so 
 successful w^as he in the endeavour, that no vestige of 
 enmity seems to have remained upon his mind. It became 
 immediately evident that the operations of the new com- 
 mander-in-chief were to be of a grander and more active 
 nature than those of his predecessors. Instead of con- 
 tinuing to act upon a long line of country with separate 
 and petty armies, his first movements tended to concen- 
 trate a great part of his forces upon Deckemberg and 
 Budweick. 
 
 Sixty thousand men and sixty pieces of cannon, with 
 -eight mortars, were soon in readiness to second his efibrts ; 
 and abandoning at once the system of slow and complicated 
 manoeuvres which had hitherto been pursued for the 
 purpose of defending this petty town or that insignificant 
 fort, he crossed the Mouse at once, and marched straight 
 towards the enemy. The army of the French is said to 
 have been superior in number to that of the allies, but it 
 was harassed and weakened by a long sojourn in an un- 
 healthy country, and Boufflers did not choose to risk a 
 general engagement. He consequently retired before the 
 allied forces, and Marlborough pursued, with the intention 
 of forcing the enemy to a battle. In this he would probably 
 have succeeded ; for it was scarcely possible for a large force 
 to retreat through a flat country intersected by innumerable 
 rivers, without exposing some- of its divisions in such a 
 manner as to bring on a general action, if the adversary 
 <3hose to seek it on any terms ; but Marlborough was 
 followed through the campaign by deputies from the States 
 of Holland, who strongly objected to any of these bold 
 
314 joiiiir cnuECHiLL, 
 
 measures by wliicli the genius of Marlborougli sought to» 
 terminate the strife by one decisive blow. 
 
 Thus hampered, the earl continued to pursue the French, 
 in the hope of forcing them to fight on equal terms, but 
 this Eoufflers skilfully avoided ; and at length, finding that 
 he could not succeed, Marlborough abandoned the attempt, 
 and turned all his energies to dispossess the French of the 
 line of fortresses on the Mouse, and to open the navigation 
 of that river as far as Maestricht. 
 
 Several petty towns had been taken in the course of tho 
 pursuit ; but now the siege of Venlo was determined on, and 
 while Marlborough covered the operations of the besieging 
 army, a .strong detachment attacked and took that im- 
 portant town ; after which Euremonde and Stevenswert were 
 also captured. 
 
 Liege became the next object of attack ; and the move- 
 ments of the confederate army having sufficiently indicated 
 the purpose of the general. Marshal Boufflers hastened to 
 endeavour, either to impede the progress of Marlborough 
 till the season became too far advanced for the undertaking, 
 or to place the town in such a state of defence as would 
 enable it to hold out till he could take measures for reliev- 
 ing it. In both these objects, however, he was frustrated, 
 Marlborough advanced with such rapidity as nearly to 
 compel the French general to risk a battle under disad* 
 vantageous circumstances ; and while the garrison of Liege 
 retired into the citadel, the town surrendered on the first 
 appearance of the allied armies. 
 
 The citadel was now attacked ; and so confident was the 
 commanding officer in the strength of the place, the number 
 of his troops, and the abundance of his supplies, that his 
 only answer to the summons to surrender, was — " It will be- 
 time enough to talk of that some six weeks hence." After 
 a bombardment of three days, however, during whicli time 
 several of the enemy's magazines were blown up, the 
 breach was judged practicable, and the English and Dutch 
 advanced to storm. The young prince of Hesse Cassel, a 
 volunteer, led the attack. The counterscarp was taken in 
 a moment, and the allies passed the ditch, mounted the 
 breach, and after a severe struggle, forced their way in. 
 The governor, finding himself so vigorously assailed, ordered 
 a parley to be beat ; but by this time the English were in. 
 
DUKE OF MAELB0I10I7GH. Sl^ 
 
 the heart of the place, and it was too late to think of 
 capitulation. 
 
 Some slaughter took place, but all who threw down their 
 arms were spared ; and the lesser citadel surrendering 
 shortly after, the city of Liege fell completely into the 
 hands of the allies. Marlborough communicated his victory 
 to the States of Holland in a brief letter, and it is worthy of 
 remark that he does not mention himself in any part of the 
 despatch. 
 
 Thus ended Marlborough's first campaign as commander- 
 in-chief ; and the skill with which he had acted, and tho 
 successes he had obtained, placed him at once amongst the 
 greatest generals of Europe. Many a man can command a 
 division, or attack a town, or fight a battle, when joined in 
 command with another, who in aid of the talents that he 
 has, brings the talents that he has not ; but singly to wield 
 the whole force, to provide for the whole wants, and to call 
 forth the whole energies of a great arrmy, requires talents 
 possessed by few ; and that he did possess these talents, 
 Marlborough had already proved. 
 
 Immediately after the capture of Liege, the allied army 
 separated to take up winter quarters, and Marlborough,, 
 with a very small guard, proceeded towards the Hague. 
 
 He was attended by one of the Dutch generals named 
 Opdam, and one of the deputies from the States named 
 Gueldermalsen, who both had those general passes from the 
 Trench commander-in-chief, which were in those days given 
 as matters of courtesy, to prevent all unnecessary incon- 
 venience to individuals travelling alone. A young gentle- 
 man also, secretary to his brother, accompanied the earl^ 
 having with him the papers of his master, whom ill health 
 had obliged to return to England ; and thus accompanied, 
 Marlborough took boat on the Mouse, and dropped down to 
 Huremonde. Here another boat joined him with the famous 
 Cohorn ; and a small body of horse being directed to ride 
 by the side of the river, the whole party proceeded by Venlo 
 towards Holland. When night came on, however, the 
 boat containing Greneral Cohorn and his retinue out- 
 sailed that of Marlborough ; the detachment of cavalry 
 appointed to guard the bank of the river lost its way in the 
 night, and a small body of Erench troops from G-uelders 
 laying wait for some other purpose, seized the rope by 
 
^16 JOHK CHURCHILL, 
 
 which the boat was towed, and drew it to the shore before 
 Marlborough and his companions were well awake. The 
 two Dutchmen were instantly recognized, but were insured 
 from detention by their passes. Marlborough had none ; the 
 slightest accident — a word, a glance — might have caused 
 him to be detained, and changed the destinies of Europe : 
 but whilst the fine balance of fortune was thus quivering 
 in uncertainty as to his future fate, his brother's secretary 
 furnished him with an old pass that had been granted to 
 Oeneral Churchill. His brother was unlike him in many 
 Tespects, and the period of the pass was expired ; but the 
 soldiers did not know him, and took little heed of the date. 
 They contented themselves with rifling the baggage and 
 taking prisoners a few English soldiers, while they suffered 
 the real prize they had met with to proceed safely to the 
 Hague. 
 
 The news of Marlborough's danger had already reached 
 that place without the news of his escape ; and his arrival 
 was hailed by the whole people with extravagant joy. He 
 remained for some time enjoying every honour which the 
 Dutch could show him, and negotiating various arrange- 
 ments for the good of the alliance and the speedy resump- 
 tion of offensive operations. His reception in London w^as 
 not less flattering. The Parliament voted him an address of 
 thanks, and the queen, having raised him to a dukedom, 
 assigned him a pension of five thousand pounds per annum 
 during her own life ; and by message required the Commons 
 to render perpetual that which she could only grant for a 
 time. The request, however, drew on a serious debate; 
 and Marlborough wisely counselled the queen to withdraw 
 her message in his favour, rather than urge a point on which 
 her authority was likely to be disputed. 
 
 In the mean while various negotiations took place with 
 Holland, who represented the overpowering force with 
 which France was preparing to take the field, and demanded 
 an additional aid of ten thousand men to carry on the war. 
 
 The English Parliament readily concurred in the views of 
 the queen and Marlborough in regard to the necessity of 
 pursuing the hostilities which had been begun against 
 France, but would by no means grant the ten thousand 
 men demanded, unless the Dutch would agree to abandon 
 all commerce, even by letters, with the enemy's country. 
 
DUKE OF MAELBOEOUGH. 317 
 
 In this respect the conduct of Parliament was both wise 
 and just. The Dutch were unwilling to make commercial 
 sacrifices; they fought to defend their own country and 
 repel an encroaching enemy; but they could hardly be 
 brought to give up their trade even with that enemy ; and 
 thus they endeavoured to reap the advantages of both peace- 
 and war. "When forced to abandon open communication^ 
 they carried on what commerce they could privately arrange 
 with the merchants of France, and transacted all pecuniar}^ 
 affairs by bills of exchange. It was but natural and fair 
 for England to demand that, while the great objects to be 
 gained by the contest w^ith France were principally in 
 favour of Holland, that country should share in the incon- 
 veniences by w^hich she was ultimately to benefit. Holland 
 was obliged to submit, and ten thousand foreign troops 
 were taken into the pay of England. 
 
 Early in the yfear 1703 the duke of Marlborough prepared 
 to repass the sea, and put himself at the head of the confe- 
 derates, but the death of his son, the marquis of Blandford, 
 delayed his journey for some time. "We are little allowed 
 to penetrate into the domestic griefs of great men, but there 
 is every reason to believe the duke felt deeply the loss of 
 his only son. At all events, it is beyond doubt that the 
 heir of Marlborough was worthy of regret. There are few 
 scenes to which a man in sorrow can so surely venture as 
 to the battle-field. It has no noise of merriment to jar 
 with his grief; and if the most powerful interest of this 
 earth, the most stirring events of existence, can withdraw 
 the mind from its own peculiar woe, it is there they are to 
 be found. We must not, therefore, suppose that Marl- 
 borough was insensible to his loss, because we find him 
 directing armies and involved in the turmoil and the bustle 
 of the camp within one month after his child's death. 
 
 On the 17th of March the duke arrived at the Hague, 
 and shortly after invested Bonn, the ancient Julia Bona, 
 the situation of which, upon the Ehine, to the south of 
 Cologne, rendered it a place of importance. 
 
 By thus promptly beginning the ofiensive measures of 
 the campaign, Marlborough anticipated the efforts of the 
 enemy, and probably saved the city of Liege, on which they 
 had been making several demonstrations of attack. The 
 Dutch, with their laborious industry, had accumulated 
 
318 JonK cmrncHTLL, 
 
 during tlie winter sucli an immense quantity of supplies, 
 that the active genius of Marlborough found itself provided 
 with the means of instant and energetic operations. One 
 of the principal defences of Bonn was a strong fort on the 
 opposite bank of the river, and this was of course one of 
 the first objects of the siege. The genius and vigour of the 
 famous Cohorn soon deprived the enemy of this post. The 
 fort was battered in breach for two days, on the first of 
 which, the chains of the bridge by which a communication 
 was kept up with the town were carried away, and the 
 bridge destroyed ; and on the second morning a practicable 
 breach was effected in the wall. In the evening the place 
 Was taken by storm; and in a very short time it was con- 
 verted into a battery, from which the allies soon poured a 
 tremendous fire into the town. 
 
 The marquis d'Alegre, who commanded in Bonn, made 
 every exertion, if not to save the place, which was hardly 
 to be expected, at least to oblige the besiegers to pay as 
 dearly as possible for the capture. The tremendous fire, 
 however, of Marlborough's artillery brought the siege each 
 day nearer to its close ; and though, by a gallant sally, the 
 Erench destroyed a part of the assailants' works and inter- 
 rupted their progress, the walls of Bonn were soon in a 
 state of complete ruin. The counterscarp and covered way 
 having been taken, the city capitulated on the 15th of May, 
 twelve days after the opening of the trenches. To celebrate 
 this success, a medal was struck in England, with the 
 punning inscription, ^^Bona a malls ereptay somewhat 
 unworthy of the Augustan age of English literature. 
 
 Either with the design of drawing Marlborough from the 
 siege of Bonn, or in the hope of obtaining some compensa- 
 tion for the loss of that place, the French army under 
 Yilleroy and Boufflers advanced upon Liege, took Tongeren, 
 and threatened Maestricht. But the gallantry of a very 
 small body of the allied troops, who defended Tongeren for 
 twenty-eight hours against the whole Erench force, gave 
 time for a considerable body of Dutch and English to unite 
 under the cannon of Maestricht, where they took up so 
 advantageous a post, that the enemy, after reconnoitring 
 their position for some time, retreated without attacking 
 them. 
 
 No sooner had Bonn capitulated than Marlborough con- 
 
DUKE OF MARLBOROrGH. 810 
 
 centrated iiis forces and advanced towards the eneray ; but 
 Villeroy withdrew before him, and after various manoeuvres 
 placed himself in such a situation as to cover Antwerp. 
 Here the allies observed him for some time, and attempted 
 twice to force his lines, but on neither occasion with 
 any further advantage than a mere temporary success. 
 
 The English general now determined upon one more 
 effort for the purpose of attacking Antwerp. The object of 
 his various movements on this occasion is not very clear, 
 and he has been generally censured for the disposition 
 of his troops, which, separated from each other, and con- 
 sequently weakened on all points, were exposed to attack 
 from a superior enemy, who had far greater facilities of 
 suddenly concentrating his forces than Marlborough pos- 
 sessed of supporting any of his detached divisions. I will 
 not at all rely upon the hypotheses which have supplied the 
 want of facts ; but it is not possible to suppose that 
 an officer of Marlborough.' s infinite judgment would thus 
 act without some feasible design, and it would seem more 
 probable that his original motives, and the causes of his 
 subsequent inactivity, have not reached us. When the 
 attack of the French lines was resolved on, Cohorn with 
 a flying camp was at a considerable distance from the main 
 body, which was concentrated near Louvain ; and, shortly 
 after, General Opdam, with fifteen thousand men, was 
 ordered to march upon Eckeren ; by which his corps also 
 was separated from the rest. The movements of the allies 
 instantly called the attention of the French commanders, 
 and Boufflers was detached with a very superior force 
 to attack the small army of Opdam. It is said that Marl- 
 borough was made acquainted with the motion of the 
 Erench ; and it is certain that he neither took any efficient 
 measures to secure the Dutch general, nor seized the oppor- 
 tunity of the absence of Boufflers, and the weakness of 
 Villeroy, to force the enemy's lines and carry his design 
 upon Antwerp into execution. Opdam was attacked 
 suddenly by Boufflers, who had marched with the 
 greatest rapidity ; the Dutch troops were thrown into con- 
 fusion ; and the general, cut off with a small escort from 
 the rest of his forces, fancied all was lost, and escaped 
 to Breda. The second in command, after sending vainly 
 for orders, put himself at the head of the army, rallied tho 
 
820 JOHir CHUECHILL, 
 
 troops, and, after a long day's fighting, repulsed the Frencli 
 with about equal loss. 
 
 Opdam of course retired from the service, though a life 
 of thirty years' courage and skill gave the lie to the 
 suspicion of cowardice and the charge of incapacity. The 
 officer who had so gallantly supplied his place, Greneral 
 Shlangenburg, censured so boldly the duke of Marlborough, 
 in his despatch to the States, that the English commander 
 required and obtained his dismissal. 
 
 It must be remarked that, in all his operations, the duke 
 of Marlborough was restrained and embarrassed by the 
 timid counsels and interested considerations of the Dutch 
 deputies, who followed the army, and by their cold and 
 spiritless calculations hung upon the active, genius of the 
 commander-in-chief like a leaden clog, to use a homely 
 comparison, upon the swift limbs of a noble horse. The 
 States themselves were not only timid, from the usual con- 
 siderations of danger in case of reverse ; but, divided into 
 internal factions, each was fearful of the reproach which 
 the opposite party might cast upon those who counselled 
 the least boldness, and the elevation it might obtain by the 
 failure of their measures. 
 
 Marlborough still wished to force the enemy to an 
 engagement, and more than once marched up to their lines in 
 battle-array. He then again proposed to attack the French 
 in their intrenchments, but he was overruled in the council, 
 and the siege of Limburg was determined upon. That 
 city, with Huy and Guelders, fell with little or no resist- 
 ance, and thus ended the campaign ; in which the allies had 
 been successful, it is true, but without obtaining advantages 
 which corresponded with the magnitude of their prepara- 
 tions. 
 
 Nevertheless, joy and triumph awaited Marlborough 
 wherever he appeared, and on his return to England 
 he was appointed governor of Grreenwich Hospital. 
 Although the English general had been master of the 
 field throughout the whole of the campaign, the power 
 of France was far from being depressed. Boufflers and 
 Villeroy had, it is true, obtained no advantages, but they 
 had sufiered no defeats, and the immense successes of 
 the French and Bavarian arms on the side of Germany far 
 more than compensated the loss of the towns which Marl- 
 
DIJKE OF MAELBOEOUGH. 321 
 
 borougli had taken. The Dutch had been protected, it 
 is true, but the house of Austria had been reduced to 
 a pitch of humiliation scarcely known in history ; and 
 it became absolutely necessary to afford the emperor some 
 efficient support, lest, driven to despair, he should conclude 
 a peace with France, and leave Louis XIY. with undivided 
 forces to pursue the war with Holland and England. 
 
 The plan for changing the scene of the war, and concen- 
 trating the forces of the alliance on the spot where their 
 presence was most necessary, is to be attributed to Marl- 
 borough alone. The utmost secrecy was necessary to 
 prevent the design from being frustrated by corresponding 
 movements on the part of France ; but Marlborough was at 
 once the conceiver and the negotiator of that grand scheme, 
 which brought, under his management, the exorbitant 
 power of Louis XIY. to the level of that of other monarchs ; 
 and he took care to involve his project in the most impene- 
 trable silence. To maintain this was extremely difficult, as 
 it was necessary to move the leaden States of Holland so 
 far against the narrow views of their selfish policy, as 
 to permit their troops to war beyond the limits of their own 
 frontier. Marlborough soon found an excuse to visit the 
 Hague, though in the midst of winter, and there, it appears, 
 he communicated his wishes to two influential persons, who 
 agreed, by the exertion of every secret means, to prepare the 
 way for the proposal which was to be made at the beginning of 
 the ensuing campaign. In England, also, only those persons 
 whose concurrence was absolutely necessary, were informed 
 that the scene of the next year's war was to be in Germany. 
 In the mean while the imperial envoy in London, either 
 really ignorant or skilfully concealing his knowledge, con- 
 tinued to petition for aid in the name of his court, to 
 remonstrate against the indifierence of the allies, and 
 to display in glowing colours the necessity and depression 
 of the house of Austria. 
 
 The only answers returned were those vague promises of 
 assistance and those empty expressions of sympathy and 
 commiseration, which amongst men mean little, and nothing 
 amongst courts. 
 
 Early in April Marlborough set sail for the Hague ; and 
 up to the period of his arrival, though the state of Austria 
 
 T 
 
322 JOHN CHURCHILL, 
 
 had been loudly laraent<3d, and the danger of suffering her 
 to fall had been displayed in the strongest manner, yet the 
 States entertained not the slightest idea of the design 
 which the English general entertained : their armies were 
 all distributed, and their officers had receiv^ed orders as if 
 the war was to be carried on as before. Immediately after 
 his arrival, Marlborough conferred with the States-general, 
 detailed a part of his project, and pointed out that, having 
 possessed themselves of a strong line of fortresses, their 
 own frontier could be defended by a trifling force, while, if 
 Austria was compelled to make peace, Holland would be 
 exposed to the whole fury of France. His reasoning in 
 itself was convincing ; but perhaps some fear that, in case of 
 refusal, England might withdraw her aid altogether, contri- 
 buted to make the Dutch consent to the proposed measure. 
 The full intention, however, of pouring the allied forces 
 into the heart of Germany was not communicated till the 
 army had traversed the Ehine, and turned towards the 
 Danube ; and it seems that the States only understood that 
 the war was to be carried on towards Coblentz, without at 
 all anticipating the ulterior movements of the campaign. 
 
 On the 5th of May Marlborough again set out from the 
 Hague, to put himself at the head of the army ; and on the 
 25th he reached Coblentz, having been joined in his march 
 by all the different corps that were destined to act in Grer- 
 many. The Erench, taken by surprise, and unable to gain 
 any correct information respecting his design, appear to 
 have leant towards the notion that he intended to advance 
 up the Moselle, and thus endeavour to penetrate into 
 Erance. Every measure was employed to oppose him on 
 this point ; but, at the same time, fresh reinforcements were 
 poured into Germany ; and, notwithstanding the rapidity of 
 Marlborough's movements, their junction with the forces of 
 the elector of Bavaria, who now commanded the whole 
 course of the Danube, was suffered to take place by the 
 negligent inactivity of Prince Louis of Baden. Thus, near 
 Ulm, lay a considerable force of veteran troops opposed to 
 the farther advance of the English general ; while Marshal 
 Yilleroy, with another large army, followed his steps and 
 watched all his movements, still uncertain whether the duke 
 might not turn upon Landau, although by this time his 
 march was decidedly directed towards the Danube. To 
 
' BUKE OF MAELBOEOUGH. 323 
 
 oppose these formidable adversaries, Marlborough led a 
 smaller force than either of the French armies ; but rein- 
 forcements were continually arriving, both from the States 
 of Holland and from the various princes of Grermany. At 
 the same time Prince Louis of Baden lay with the imperial 
 troops at Ehingen, between him and the combined forces of 
 France and Bavaria ; so that nothing was likely to prevent 
 his immediate junction with his allies. 
 
 From Ladenburg Marlborough wrote to the States, giving 
 them at length full information of his whole design, and 
 demanding whether they would still consent that their 
 troops should accompany the English for the benefit of the 
 common cause. The reply was immediate, and the absolute 
 command of the whole army was placed in his hands. At 
 this time talent, if not force, was decidedly on the side of 
 the allies. Marshal Tallard, who was now on the frontier, 
 at the head of a fresh body of troops destined to reinforce 
 the elector of Bavaria, and Marshal Marsin, who commanded 
 the French forces in Germany, were both men of narrow 
 intellect and no small conceit. On the other hand, Villeroy 
 was all conceit, and had little but that sort of drawing- 
 room intellect w^hich is very often serviceable to a man 
 himself, but never to his country. The duke of Bavaria, it 
 is true, was an officer of talent and experience ; but he even, 
 in genius, was far inferior to Marlborough. At the same 
 time, the famous Prince Eugene arrived in the imperial 
 camp, and brought an accession of wisdom, activity, and 
 firmness to the allies, which would have given them a great 
 preponderance in point of military skill, even had Marl- 
 borough not been present. 
 
 Previous to the junction of the armies. Prince Eugene, 
 Prince Louis of Baden, and the duke of Marlborough met 
 between the Rhine and Danube, to determine the future 
 proceedings of the allied armies. At this conference 
 Eugene and Marlborough, the two greatest generals of the 
 age, saw each other for the first time, and from this period 
 dated a friendship in which emulation never deviated into 
 rivalry, nor mutual admiration ever sunk into jealousy 
 — which lasted through well-merited prosperity and power, 
 and through undeserved reverse and disgrace. 
 
 It was here resolved, that w^hile Marlborough and the 
 Y 2 
 
824 JOHK CHIJBCHILL, 
 
 prince of Baden acted against the elector of Bavaria and 
 Marshal de Marsin, Prince Eugene, with all the forces 
 which could be spared, should take up a position on the 
 [Rhine, in order to neutralize the forces under Yilleroy, and 
 secure the upper circles of Grermanj. For this purpose 
 thirty thousand men were detached ; and the other armies, 
 having united, were marched upon Donawert, where Marl- 
 borough and the prince determined upon crossing the 
 Danube. Intrenchments of considerable strength had been 
 formed at Schellenberg, and here a large Bavarian force 
 had been stationed to cover Donawert. The attack of these 
 intrenchments was immediately determined ; and though, 
 from excessive rains, the army was delayed on its march till 
 the day was nearly closed, no repose was permitted, and, 
 after a severe battle, the Bavarians w^ere dislodged. Their 
 defeat was complete, and their flight so rapid, that the com- 
 mander-in-chief, with several of his officers, was forced to 
 swim his horse across the Danube ; but the allied armies 
 suffered scarcely less than their enemies, and a fearful list 
 of killed and wounded furnished the eternal but unheeded 
 comment on that fatal word "glory." 
 
 The elector of Bavaria, who had trusted to the strength 
 of his forces intrenched at Schellenberg, no sooner learned 
 their defeat than, quitting his camp near Dillinghen, he 
 retreated, and fortified himself strongly under the cannon 
 of Augsburg. Marlborough followed without loss of time, 
 passed the Danube, and taking the towns of Donawert, 
 ISTeuburg, Eain, and Eriedburg, he extended his line be- 
 tween "Wolfurtshausen and Oostmaring, with Friedburg 
 in the centre of his forces, and interposed himself between 
 the elector and his dominions, which were thus left to the 
 mercy of the allied armies. In his wars with the empire, 
 the elector of Bavaria had met with so many splendid and 
 unexpected successes, that his confidence had been raised to 
 the highest pitch. Louis XIY. also had not failed to hold 
 out the most magnificent expectations to his only German 
 ally, so that the elector is said to have demanded as the 
 price of his separation from France, not only the dignity of 
 an independent crown, but the dismemberment of the here- 
 ditary dominions of Austria to augment the territories of 
 bis projected kingdom. 
 
 The present danger of his states, however, humbled sadly 
 
DUKE OF MARLBOEOrGH. 325 
 
 his pretensions, and lie commenced a negotiation with the 
 allies, which he first protracted in the hope of aid from 
 Erance, and then broke off when that aid approached. To 
 force him to conclude the treaty, Marlborough had threat- 
 ened to give up his dominions to fire and sword ; and now, 
 both to punish him for violating the promise he had made 
 to sign the treaty agreed upon, and to prevent him from 
 reaping any great benefit from his breach of faith, the threat 
 was put into execution. The whole of the country from 
 Augsburg to Munich was laid waste, and all means of 
 supply were cut off from the camp of the elector. 
 
 The motives of that prince, though not justifiable, were 
 evident. "When he agreed to sign the treaty, though 
 Louis XIY. promised him immediate reinforcements, and 
 rumours of armies marching to his succour were not want- 
 ing, yet a thousand circumstances might prevent those forces 
 from reaching him. Prince Eugene, intrenched at Behel, 
 watched the passages of the Ehine, and Marlborough and 
 the prince of Baden straitened him on every side. But 
 now, on the contrary, he had received direct news, not only 
 that the reinforcements promised were on their way, but 
 that a large French force, under Marshal Tallard, had tra- 
 versed the difficult marches of the Black Forest, and was 
 advancing with all speed towards him. Eugene, who had 
 expected them to attempt the Ehine, would hardly be able 
 to overtake them in time to prevent their junction with the 
 electoral troops ; and, once united, the two armies might 
 bid defiance to their enemies. 
 
 Marshal Tallard showed more skill and activity in con- 
 ducting his army on this march than he evinced on any 
 other occasion. JSTotwithstanding all Eugene's efforts, he 
 succeeded in joining the elector of Bavaria ; and had he not 
 spent several days in a useless attempt upon the town of 
 Villinghen, would probably have arrived in time to cut off 
 the communication between the two allied generals, and 
 might have fought and defeated them in detail. The junc- 
 tion of this immense reinforcement of course put the elector 
 of Bavaria in a far more formidable position, and changed the 
 plans of the allies. Bavaria was still at the mercy of th© 
 English and imperial army, and it was determined to 
 besiege the strong towns of that country. The first fixed 
 upon for attack was Ingoldstadt, in which the elector had 
 
326 JOHN CHUEOHILL, 
 
 accumulated immense military stores ; and against that 
 place Prince Louis of Baden was detached, while Marl- 
 borough and Eugene were left with their two armies 
 to watch the motions of the united French and Bavarians. 
 Scarcely was Ingoldstadt invested, when the forces of the 
 elector began to move towards the Danube at Lawinghen, 
 and it became evident that it was his design to attack 
 Prince Eugene while separated from Marlborough. The 
 prince, it must be remarked, had followed Marshal Tallard 
 as far as Munster, where, finding it impossible with eighteen 
 thousand men, which was all he could draw from the lines 
 at Behel, to prevent the junction of the Erench and Bava- 
 rians, he had intrenched himself to wait the result of a 
 consultation with Marlborough. 
 
 No sooner were the motions of the enemy made known 
 to the English general than he despatched a large part of 
 his forces to support Eugene, and followed himself with the 
 remainder. The Erench and Bavarians passed the Danube 
 at Lawinghen; but Eugene still maintained his post at 
 Munster, resolved not to abandon so advantageous a posi- 
 tion till the last moment. In the mean while he sent off 
 courier after courier to hasten the coming of Marlborough. 
 That great general lost no time, but, beginning his march 
 at two o'clock in the morning, proceeded with scarcely a 
 pause till he joined the prince with his whole force towards 
 the evening of the following day. Had the enemy used the 
 same diligence, Eugene must have either fought with im- 
 mense inferiority at Munster, or retired to Schellenberg 
 andDonawert. A day's repose, however, which Marshal Tal- 
 lard gave his men at Lawinghen, afforded time for Marl 
 borough to come up ; and when the Erench army began 
 their march upon Munster, the ensuing day, they found the 
 allies in force before them. At this time the Erench and 
 Bavarians had passed the small town of Hochstadt, and they 
 now took up their position on a ridge of rising ground 
 running between the great wood of Schellenberg and the 
 Danube. Their right was protected by the river and the 
 strong village of Blenheim, and their left by the wood, with 
 the village of Lutzinghen a little in the rear. In advance 
 was a rivulet, which, crossing the whole plain, fell into 
 the Danube near Blenheim, and which, flowing through 
 a deep ravine with a marshy bottom, afforded a natural 
 
DUKE OF MARLBOEOTJGH. 327 
 
 ^defence superior to any that could have been easily con- 
 structed. 
 
 This strong situation, the number and freshness of the 
 French army (which exceeded the numerical force of the 
 allies by about five thousand men), their superiority in 
 point of artillery, and the difficult nature of the ground 
 between Munster and Elenheim, all seemed to forbid an 
 attack of their position. But most powerful considerations 
 on the other side rendered it absolutely necessary to over- 
 come these obstacles, to fight, and to triumph. The labour 
 of a few days bestowed on the construction of intrench- 
 ments would have rendered the French camp impregnable. 
 Marlborough's strength also lay in his cavalry; and for 
 Hhe horses the country around afforded but a scanty supply 
 of forage, which would soon be exhausted ; while, at the 
 same time, intercepted letters showed the allies that Marshal 
 Yilleroy had received orders to penetrate into the duchy of 
 "Wirtemburg, and, taking the lines of Eehel in the rear, 
 to open a communication with the elector of Bavaria, who 
 would thus have obtained again complete command of the 
 whole country. Marlborough and Eugene at once saw the 
 necessity of risking a battle immediately ; and, granting 
 one day's halt to refresh the troops after their long and 
 rapid march, on the 13th of August the allied armies 
 advanced to the battle ot Blenheim. 
 
 Prince Eugene commanded the right wing of the allies, 
 and the duke of Marlborough the left. On the enemy's 
 right was Marshal Tallard opposed to Marlborough ; in the 
 centre appeared the troops of Monsieur de Marsin ; and on 
 the left was placed the elector of Bavaria in face of Prince 
 . Eugene. Nothing could have been more advantageous to 
 the Erench than the nature of the ground, had they occu- 
 pied it well ; but in the outset they fell into several gross . 
 errors, which, together with others committed in the course 
 of the battle, neutralized the favourable nature of their cir- 
 cumstances, and gave the laurel to their adversaries. Drawn 
 up at a considerable distance from the rivulet, whose steep 
 banks and marshy sides might have been defended with suc- 
 cess, they gave full space for the English and Germans to 
 pass and form. Ten thousand men also were shut up in 
 the village of Blenheim, which might have been defended 
 by a quarter of the number, and the centre was weakened 
 
328 JOHX CHTJECHILL, 
 
 by detachments sent to various hamlets which could not be* 
 defended, and were not likely to be attacked. 
 
 Towards two o'clock in the morning the allied armies 
 began their march, and between five and six were in pre- 
 sence of the enemy, who for some time lay encamped with- 
 out giving any sign of apprehension. All was calm and 
 still; and though for more than an hour Marlborough 
 halted near the village of Sweenenghen, while troop after 
 troop, battalion after battalion, marched up and took their 
 position on that immortal plain, yet his devoted adversaries 
 by no movement gave notice that they saw the human cloud 
 which was about to pour the storm of battle on their 
 heads. At length the sound of a solitary cannon announced 
 that they were awakened to the approaching contest. The 
 soldiers were seen rushing from their tents, and forming 
 before the camp ; while officers and aides-de-camp hurried 
 to and fro in all the bustle of preparation and command. 
 
 A good deal of confusion seems to have occurred in the 
 Prench arrangements, and by their own accounts of the 
 battle it appears that Marshal Tallard was called to inspect 
 the disposition on the extreme left at the very moment the 
 JEnglish were advancing to attack the right, where he com- 
 manded. The operations of the allies commenced by the 
 march of a detachment under Lord Cutts to dislodge a small 
 body of French from two water-mills on the hither side of 
 the rivulet. This was soon effected, and the enemy, after 
 setting fire to the buildings, retired to the rest in Blenheim. 
 In the mean time Prince Eugene, on the right of the allies, 
 advanced along the woody height which bounds the plain 
 to the east, while Marlborough marched forward in line to 
 pass the rivulet. A difficulty here presented itself in the 
 marshy nature of the ground ; but bridges were soon con- 
 structed, and Lord Cutts, having passed with his detach- 
 ment, kept the troops in Blenheim in check, while the rest 
 of the army advanced and formed on the other bank. This 
 operation was effected without any further opposition on 
 the part of the enemy than a heavy cannonade, though it 
 is said that Marshal Tallard had left orders to charge the 
 enemy in their passage, which, during his absence, were 
 either forgotten or disobeyed. As soon as a sufficient force 
 had crossed the brook and morass, Marlborough attacked 
 the village of Blenheim, which, however, was so strongly* 
 
DUKE or MAELBOEOUGH. 32&= 
 
 fortified, and so fully garrisoned that the allies were dri\ten 
 back with great loss. Nearly at the same time the Erench 
 cavalry made a splendid charge against a large body of the 
 allied horse, who were galled also by a close fire from Blen- 
 heim ; and thus a considerable part of the left wing was- 
 put into confusion, and more than one regiment was driven 
 back beyond the rivulet. At this moment nothing pro- 
 mised the splendid success which crowned the day. On, 
 the right. Prince Eugene was scarcely yet engaged, from 
 the difficult nature of the ground he had to pass ; and in the 
 centre, where Marlborough commanded in person, a body 
 of infantry which first passed the rivulet under the prince 
 of Holstein, was charged, broken, and almost cut to pieces 
 by the enemy's cavalry, while the prince himself was taken 
 prisoner with several severe wounds, of which he afterwards 
 died. A second body of infantry, supported by some squa- 
 drons of horse, met with hardly a better fate, and it was 
 only when Marlborough himself brought up the reserve 
 that the ground was permanently gained, and the enemy 
 forced to retire. The confusion the duke observed on his 
 left now induced him to gallop to that part of the field • 
 but before his arrival. General Bulau, commanding a large 
 body of cavalry, had in turn charged the victorious horso 
 of the enemy, and driven them in broken disarray almost 
 into Blenheim. Under favour of this success the regiments- 
 which had been driven across the rivulet, repassed and 
 formed. The enemy were again charged, and driven com- 
 pletely over the hill. By this time Marlborough had aban-^ 
 doned all thoughts of forcing the village of Blenheim ; but 
 far from abandoning the appearance of attempting it, he 
 kept the infantry who maintained that position in conti- 
 nual employment by throwing forward platoon after platoon ;. 
 by which means he completely deceived Marshal Tallard. 
 The Erench foot were suffered to remain in Blenheim, while 
 the horse of their left were driven back by repeated charges^, 
 the only infantry brought to support them cut to pieces, 
 and the day irretrievably lost. When too late Tallard deter- 
 mined to withdraw the troops from Blenheim ; and, with 
 the cavalry, which he had rallied behind the original camp, 
 to take up a new position, and to try to recover the advan- 
 tage. To cover this manoeuvre he sent an aide-de-camp tO' 
 Marshal de Marsin, to beg him to extend his line to the 
 
SSO JOHN CHUECHILL, * 
 
 right of the village of Oberklau, and to occupy the English 
 on that side, while he drew off the forces from Blenheim. 
 De Marsin either could not or would not comply, alleging 
 that his troops had quite sufficient employment in making 
 head against the British centre. In the mean while Marshal 
 Tallard, in striving to maintain his communication with 
 Blenheim, had exposed the right flank of his newly-rallied 
 cavalry, and a vigorous charge on the part of the allies 
 decided the fate of that part of the Trench army. Broken, 
 dispersed, and disheartened, the enemy's horse fled in every 
 direction, some towards the town of Hochstadt, and some 
 towards a -bridge over the Danube. Many who could not 
 reach • that point were drowned in endeavouring to swim 
 across the river ; many were cut down in their flight, and 
 many surrendered. Amongst the latter was Marshal Tal- 
 lard ; and a number of officers of rank followed his example. 
 The body of cavalry which had taken the road towards 
 Hochstadt, rallied before reaching that place, and would 
 probably have returned to the charge had not several of the 
 allied regiments come up, when, seeing that the day was 
 lost, it turned again and made good its retreat. 
 
 Every part of the right wing of the Erench army, except 
 the detached infantry at Blenheim, was now annihilated ; 
 and Marlborough instantly checked the pursuit, and pre- 
 pared to act with his whole cavalry upon the flank of the 
 enemy's centre, under Monsieur de Marsin. But by this 
 time that officer was in full retreat ; and, on the right, after 
 a severe struggle, in which the German infantry had sup- 
 ported the whole weight of the strife, the elector of Bavaria 
 was defeated by Prince Eugene, and forced to abandon his 
 position. His retreat, however, was not a flight ; and, 
 joining Marshal de Marsin beyond an extensive morass in 
 the neighbourhood of Hochstadt, he took up a position in 
 which he could safely remain a sufficient length of time to 
 give his troops some repose. 
 
 The triumph of the allies was, nevertheless, complete. 
 The troops in the village of Blenheim surrendered, and were 
 disarmed. Thirteen thousand prisoners, and nearly twenty 
 thousand slain enemies, attested the difficulty of the struggle 
 - and the magnitude ot the success, while the field of battle, 
 the true gage of victory, remained entirely in the hands of 
 Marlborough and Eugene. That the event of this brilliant 
 
DUKE or MARLBOEOUOH. 331 
 
 'day was principally brought about by tbe talent, activity, 
 and decision of the English commander, there is no doubt, 
 though no one will deny that he was most happy in the 
 character of his companion in battle, Eugene, and not a little 
 indebted to the faults and oversights of his adversaries. 
 His troops, too, were worthy of their general. Nor did the 
 Erench disgrace the character they had always maintained 
 for courage and gallantry. They were beaten, it is true, 
 but not till after many noble efforts to win the palm which 
 their generals threw away. The troops in Blenheim have 
 been much censured for the tameness of their surrender after 
 the defeat of the left wing ; but the blame attaches more 
 particularly to one or two of their officers than to the sol- 
 diers themselves, who, in the beginning of the action, had 
 fought with the most determined bravery. Eleven thousand 
 killed and wounded on the part of the allies sufficiently 
 evinced that their enemies had not abandoned the field with- 
 out obstinate resistance. 
 
 The first news of this great victory which reached Eng- 
 land was contained in a few lines written in pencil on the 
 blank leaf of a pocket-book by the duke of Marlborough to 
 his wife, when the enemy were in full flight, but before the 
 pursuit was over. He had then been on horseback for six- 
 teen hours ; and as this short despatch itself is not uninter- 
 esting, I shall subjoin it, as well as the more detailed 
 account which he afterwards addressed to Harley, then 
 secretary of state. 
 
 Letter in Pencil, sent hy the hands of Colonel Pack to the Duchess of 
 Marlborough, August 13, 1704. 
 
 " I have not time to say more than to beg of you to present my 
 humble duty to the queen, and to let her majesty know that her army 
 has gained a glorious victory. Monsieur Tallard and two other generals 
 are in my coach, and I am following the rest. The bearer, my aide-de- 
 camp, Colonel Pack, will give her majesty an account of what has 
 passed. I shall do it in a day or two by another, more at large. 
 
 " Marlboeough." 
 
 Such were the only expressions that the first excitement 
 of triumph and conquest could draw from the splendid 
 moderation of the hero of Blenheim ; and even afterwards, 
 when the whole vast fruits of his success lay spread before 
 his eyes — when the completeness of his victory and the ex- 
 tent of its advantages were displayed and ascertained, no 
 
332 JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 word of exultation broke from the conqueror. The same 
 grand, calm spirit is observable in every line with which he 
 traces his efforts, and records their glorious event. 
 
 Despatch from the Duke of Marlborough to Mr. Secretary Harley. 
 
 " Sir, — I gave you an account on Sunday of the situation we were 
 then in, and that we expected to hear the enemy would pass the Danube 
 at Lawengen, in order to attack Prince Eugene. At eleven that night 
 we had an express from him, stating that the enemy were come over, 
 and desiring that he might be reinforced as soon as possible ; whereuport- 
 I ordered my brother Churchill to advance at one o'clock in the morning 
 with his twenty battalions, and by three the whole army was in motion. 
 For the greater expedition, I ordered part of the troops to pass over 
 the Danube, and to follow the march of the twenty battalions, and with 
 most of the horse and foot of the first line I passed the Lech at Eain, 
 and came over the Danube at Donawert : so that we all joined the- 
 prince that night, intending to advance and take this camp at Hochstadt. 
 In order whereto, we went out on Tuesday early in the morning, with 
 forty squadrons, to view the ground, but found the enemy had already 
 possessed themselves of it. Whereupon we resolved to attack them, 
 and accordingly we marched between three and four yesterday mornings 
 from the camp at Munster, leaving all our tents standing. About six 
 we came in view of the enemy, who, we found, did not expect so early 
 a visit. The cannon began to play about half an hour after eight. 
 They formed themselves into two bodies : the elector with Monsieur- 
 Marsin with their troops on our right, and Monsieur Tallard with all 
 his own on our left, which last fell to my share. They had two rivulets 
 besides a morass before them, which we were obliged to pass over in- 
 their view, and Prince Eugene was forced to take a great compass to- 
 come at the enemy ; so that it was one o'clock before the battle began. 
 It lasted with great vigour till sunset, when the enemy were obliged to* 
 retire ; and by the blessing of God we obtained a complete victory. 
 
 " We have cut off great numbers of them, as well in the action as in 
 the retreat, besides upwards of thirty squadrons of the French which 
 I pushed into the Danube, where we saw the greatest part of them 
 perish ; Monsieur de Tallard, with several of his general officers, being 
 taken prisoners at the same time. And in the village of Blenheim,, 
 which the enemy had intrenched and fortified, and where they mada 
 the greatest opposition, T obliged twenty-six entire battalions and 
 twelve squadrons of dragoons to surrender themselves prisoners at 
 discretion. We took likewise all their tents standing, with their can- 
 non and ammunition, as also a great number of standards, kettle- 
 drums, and colours, in the action ; so that I reckon the greatest part, 
 of Monsieur Tallard's army is taken or destroyed. The bravery of all 
 our troops on this occasion cannot be expressed, the generals as well as^ 
 the ofiicers and soldiers behaving themselves with the greatest courage 
 and resolution, the horse and dragoons having been obliged to charge 
 four or five several times. The elector and Monsieur de Marsin were 
 so advantageously posted, that Prince Eugene could make no impres- 
 sion on them till the third attack, at near seven at night, when he 
 
DUKE OP MAELBOEOUGH. 333 
 
 made a great slaughter of them ; but being near a wood-side, a good 
 body of Bavarians retired into it, and the rest of that army retreated 
 towards Lawingen, it being too late and the troops too much tired to 
 pursue them far. 
 
 ** I cannot say too much in the praise of the prince's good conduct 
 ^nd the bravery of his troops on this occasion. 
 
 *' You will please to lay this before her majesty and his royal high- 
 ness, to whom I send my Lord Tunbridge with the good news. I pray 
 you will likewise inform yourself, and let me know her majesty's 
 pleasure, as well relating to Monsieur Tallard and the other general 
 ofl&cers, as for the disposal of near twelve hundred other officers, and 
 between eight and nine thousand common soldiers, who being all made 
 prisoners by her majesty's troops, are entirely at her disposal ; but as 
 the charge of subsisting these officers and men must be very great, I 
 presume her majesty will be inclined that they be exchanged for any 
 -^ther prisoners that offer. 
 
 " I should likewise be glad to receive her majesty's directions for the 
 despatch of the standards and colours, whereof I have not yet the 
 number, but guess there cannot be less than one hundred, which is 
 more than has been taken in any battle this many years. 
 
 " You will easily believe that in so long and vigorous an action the 
 English, who had so great a share in it, must have suffered, as well in 
 officers as in men, but I have not yet the particulars. — I am. Sir, 
 
 "Your most obedient humble servant, 
 *' Camjp at Hochstadt, " Marlborough." 
 
 '^Thursday morning, August 14, 1704." 
 
 I have subjoined these two documents because I look 
 upon the expressions of great men on occasions where time 
 is not given for thought, and where the excitement of diffi- 
 cult and trying circumstances can hardly have worn off, as 
 the best picture we can have of their minds. By the very 
 calmness or agitation of the style, by the exultation or 
 moderation of the tone, we may easily divine whether the 
 heart that won the victory was inspired by the enthusiasm 
 of romantic valour, the quick spirit of genius, or the cool 
 and reasoning wisdom of firm and immovable resolution. 
 
 Marlborough seems to have combined most of the quali- 
 ties of a great general, and to have displayed them all at 
 the battle of Blenheim — firmness of determination, clear 
 consideration of expediency, judgment to guide considera- 
 tion and to calculate the chances of success, coolness to 
 command with precision, quickness to see the enemy's mis- 
 takes or misfortunes, activity to take advantage of them, 
 presence of mind to remedy his own, courage to give an 
 example of daring where necessary, caution to avoid risk 
 where risk could produce no benefit. 
 
334 JOHN CHUECIIILL, 
 
 Pressed by many men of experience to avoid the battle^ 
 Marlborough judged it necessary, fought, and won it. He 
 was in all parts of the field where his presence was required 
 to direct or to encourage, yet in the moments of the greatest 
 peril, where the fate of empires hung upon the event of a 
 moment, his orders were as clear and calm as on a review. 
 The enemy's error in respect to Blenheim he instantly 
 seized, and by skilfully changing the real attack upon that 
 post into a feigned one, he maintained the adverse general 
 in his mistake, and defeated him in consequence. His 
 movements after the battle were as prudent as they were 
 skilful. He fought as long as it was possible to injure his 
 enemy, but refrained as soon as further pursuit might have 
 injured himself. 
 
 That he was anxious, most anxious, through the whole of 
 the battle, may be inferred from his having said immediately 
 after, " he had prayed that day more than all the chaplains 
 in his army ;" but his anxiety was without mental embar- 
 rassment or personal fear. 
 
 The joy which the victory of Blenheim spread through, 
 the states of the allies was great and universal ; but no one- 
 had more cause for rejoicing than the emperor, and he re- 
 turned his thanks to the English general in a letter full of 
 that gratitude which the services performed well merited. 
 Some time before this he had created Marlborough a prince 
 of the empire, and though the duke at first had prudently 
 declined an honour emanating from another court than that 
 on whose favour his fortune had arisen and stood, yet the 
 commands of his own sovereign soon rendered it necessary 
 to accept what it had been before wise to refuse. 
 
 In the present instance Grermany was the power which 
 immediately benefited by the defeat of the French and Ba- 
 varians, though each member of the alliance reaped some 
 more remote advantage. The elector and Marshal de 
 Marsin retreated precipitately upon Ulm, and thence, tra- 
 versing the Black Eorest, approached the Ehine, leaving the 
 whole of the Grermanic states delivered from the presence 
 of an enemy. Bavaria itself remained utterly without de- 
 fence, and the elector, who had at one time commanded the 
 whole course of the Danube, was now obliged to trust a 
 letter to his wife to the courtesy of Marlborough. It is 
 scarcely necessary to sny that this confidence was not mis- 
 
DUKE OF MAELBOBOUGH. * 335^ 
 
 placed, and the letter, which had been inclosed to the duke, 
 was sent on by a trumpet of his own to Munich. 
 
 Had the allied generals been able to pursue the enemy 
 with that alacrity which was common to the characters of 
 both, they might possibly have compelled another battle, . 
 and annihilated the army which they had already so severely 
 dismembered. But the immense number of prisoners, and . 
 the fatigued stage of their forces, worn out by long and 
 difficult marches, as well as a whole day's continual fighting, . 
 impeded their proceedings, and the enemy effected their re- 
 treat across the Ehine. 
 
 Marlborough, Eugene, and Prince Louis of Baden, fol- 
 lowed, while a part of the troops were left to reduce Ulm^ 
 and take possession of Augsburg and the other cities which 
 were hastening to deliver their keys to the victor. Pew 
 events of importance occupied the rest of the campaign. 
 The Prench were nowhere in condition to keep the field ; 
 and the siege of Landau was formed by Priuce Louis of 
 Baden, under whose direction it languished for some 
 weeks ; while Marlborough and Eugene covered the attack- 
 ing force. As the season advanced, however, the English 
 general, weary of watching the lazy progress of the siege, . 
 turned upon Triers, from the neighbourhood of which he 
 dislodged the Prench, and secured for a part of his troops 
 good winter quarters on the Moselle, proposing to carry on 
 the next campaign in that direction. 
 
 In the mean time Ulm surrendered, and shortly after the 
 electress of Bavaria yielded by treaty the whole of her hus- 
 band's territories, which she could no longer hope to maintain 
 by arms. Landau at length surrendered ; and Marlborough, 
 having made the necessary distribution of his troops, pre- 
 pared to return to England. The moment, however, that his 
 mind was turned from the conduct of the war, the general 
 became the statesman ; and, anxious to consolidate the 
 alliances on whose firmness the success of his future plans 
 depended, he laboured to give support to the duke of Savoy, 
 a distant ally, whose faith had often wavered, but upon 
 whose adherence and security greatly depended the event 
 of the allied operations in the North. 
 
 During the last campaign the duke of Savoy had been 
 completely worsted in Italy by the genius and power of 
 Ycndome, and could now scarcely call one town of his- 
 
336 JOHN CHURCHILL, 
 
 dominions Ms own ; bat he Lad, nevertheless, found full 
 employment for a large Prench army, which, had he re- 
 mained neuter, might have acted against the allies in the 
 North with terrible effect. For the purpose of giving this 
 prince efficient support, and of binding him to the alliance 
 by the prospect of success and compensation, Marlborough, 
 having proceeded to Berlin, negotiated with the king of 
 Prussia the transfer of eight thousand Prussians, now 
 serving with the British army, to the ranks of a German 
 reinibrcement about to be sent to the duke of Savoy. 
 
 This arrangement took place in the midst of festivals and 
 -entertainments, yet the whole was concluded in the space of 
 four days, and Marlborough was once more on his journey 
 to England, having also quieted for the time some disputes 
 which had arisen between the States of Holland and the 
 <jourt of Berlin. 
 
 Though favour in the first instance might have assigned 
 the staff of command to the hands of John Churchill, merit 
 and success had fixed it there so firmly, that slander was 
 silent, and envy and opposition dared no more than murmur. 
 His reception in England and his stay during the winter 
 was one long triumph. The queen loved him the better for 
 having justified her partiality, the Peers voted him thanks, 
 and the Commons assigned him recompense. A bill was 
 passed for granting the royal domains of Woodstock and 
 \Vooton to the conqueror of Blenheim, and the gift was 
 immortalized by giving it the name of the victory. If 
 Marlborough was covetous, and fond of more substantial 
 rewards than the bright but phantom-like recompense of 
 glory, we must nevertheless allow that he sought not to add 
 to his own fame — through which fame fortune was acquired 
 — one grain of the honour due to others, nor would accept 
 one word of praise which was not justly merited. 
 
 In the speech whereby the lord keeper announced to him 
 the thanks voted to him by the House of Lords, the follow- 
 ing passage occurred : — " The honour of these glorious vic- 
 tories, great as they are, under the immediate blessing of 
 Almighty G-od,'is chiefly, if not alone, owing to your grace's 
 conduct and valour." 
 
 To this Marlborough replied, with that splendid modera- 
 tion which in its calm dignity is itself sublime, "I am 
 extremely sensible of the great honour your lordships are 
 
DTJKE OE MAELBOBOTTGH. 337 
 
 pleased to do me ; but I must beg on this occasion to do 
 right to all the officers and soldiers I had the honour to 
 command. Next to the blessing of Grod, the good success 
 of this campaign is owing to their extraordinary courage." 
 
 Though absent from the scene of his proposed operations 
 for the next year, the duke had taken care that every pre- 
 paration should be made during his stay in England ; and 
 early in the spring of 1705 he repassed the seas, to put 
 himself at the head of the army. As far as regarded stores 
 and magazines, everything vras indeed ready ; but other pre- 
 paratives were also necessary, which could not be carried on 
 without Marlborough's presence, and which that presence 
 even was not sufficient to effect. In the jfirst place, it was 
 necessary to persuade the Dutch once more to send their 
 troops beyond their own frontier ; and, in the next place, it 
 was necessary to gain the cordial co-operation of the G-erman 
 army under Prince Louis of Eaden, and to inspire some 
 spirit of activity into the movements of that feeble and 
 dilatory general. The Dutch were soon won to Marl- 
 borough's views, and granted him the force he required ; 
 but activity was not in the nature of the Prince of Baden, 
 and cordial co-operation was not less foreign to his views 
 and feelings. 
 
 It may have been remarked that Prince Louis was not 
 present at the battle of Blenheim ; that he had previously 
 lost all that Marlborough had regained to the G-erman 
 empire ; that, though trusted with the conduct of sieges and 
 operations where little was to be risked, he had been, during 
 the union of Marlborough and Eugene, scarcely more than 
 the nominal commander of the German armies ; that the 
 activity, skill, and decision which had saved the imperial 
 power had been displayed by his two coadjutors ; and that 
 they had reaped the glory, while he had scarcely striven to 
 gather up the gleanings of the field. With so many causes 
 for envy and jealousy, it would be needless to seek for any 
 other motive to account for conduct as detrimental to him- 
 self as to the state he pretended to serve. Some persons 
 have believed that he had been seduced by the agents of 
 Louis Xiy . ; but no proof of this appears ; and it would bo 
 both wrong and dangerous to credit an unsupported charge 
 of treachery, while weak pride and mortified vanity were at 
 
 z 
 
S3S JOHN CnURCHILL, 
 
 hand to account for his conduct. It happens luckily that 
 follies are more ordinary than crimes. 
 
 Eugene was now in Italy, and on Prince Louis alone 
 Marlborough could depend for support. To insure this he 
 begged an interview, which was accordingly appointed at 
 Creutznach; but as the day approached the prince pleaded 
 indisposition, and declined the meeting. Marlborough was 
 not to be repulsed with so great an object as he had in view, 
 and, waving all ceremony, he proceeded to visit Prince Louis 
 at Eadstadt. His views were so clear, and his reasoning so 
 strong, that the prince had no excuse left for refusing to 
 co-operate with him ; and he accordingly promised both the 
 succour that was necessary, and the activity which the duke 
 required. 
 
 Satisfied with these arrangements, Marlborough pro- 
 ceeded towards the Moselle, hoping to take the strong 
 town of Saar Louis, to force Marshal Yillars to a battle, 
 and by carrying the war into Prance, to draw the elector of 
 Bavaria and the duke of Yilleroy from the side of Holland, 
 where they were preparing to act against the corps under 
 General Auverkerque. 
 
 The passage of the Moselle was efiected without oppo- 
 sition, and Marlborough marched on and encamped near 
 Elft. Marshal Villars retreated before him, but taking up 
 a strong position near Coningsmacheren, he intrenched 
 himself in such a manner as to secure his camp from attack, 
 while the duke prepared for the siege of Saar Louis. This 
 campaign, however, was destined to be full of disappoint- 
 ments: the reinforcements promised by Prince Louis did 
 not arrive. The prince himself advanced to Creutznach, 
 and then, once more pleading illness, returned as he came, 
 and left Marlborough to carry on the war as he might. 
 The forces collected were not sufficient to attack the city 
 and to cover the besieging army. News arrived from the 
 Low Countries that the elector and Yilleroy were advancing 
 with a superior power upon Auverkerque, who lay near 
 Maestricht, that Huy had fallen, and that Liege was invested. 
 Yillars lay immovable in his intrenched camp, and Marl- 
 borough, after waiting till the last moment for the assist- 
 ance which had been promised, left a sufficient number of 
 troops to guard Triers, and other strong placets in the 
 neighbourhood, and then marched with extraordinary expe- 
 
DUKE OF MAELEOROUGH. 339 
 
 'dition to the Netherlands. His unexpected arrival instantly 
 caused the French to raise the siege of Liege, and having 
 joined Greneral Auverkerque at Maestricht, he advanced, and 
 re-taking Huy, obliged the enemy to confine themselves to 
 their lines hear Tirlemont. These defences, however, were 
 not long available against the enterprising genius of the 
 English general; and on the 18th of July they were 
 attacked and taken, after a severe engagement. 
 
 Had the advantage thus gained been immediately pursued, 
 it is probable that Louvain, Brussels, and Antwerp, might 
 have fallen into the hands of the allies ; but the Erench and 
 Bavarians were suffered to take up a position undisturbed, 
 which covered those places. In the absence of all direct 
 evidence to show where the blame of this error ought to lie, 
 it is scarcely possible to attribute inactivity and carelessness 
 to Marlborough, and the general opinion, that the sluggish 
 timidity of the Dutch oflfi^ers prevented him from pursuing 
 his advantage, is at least justified by their conduct on other 
 occasions. 
 
 Various movements now took place in order to penetrate 
 to Louvain, but all proved unsuccessful. The Dutch army 
 was followed constantly by deputies from the states-general, 
 who on every occasion called a council of war, which in 
 most cases overruled the duke's own opinion. Though 
 supported by Greneral Auverkerque in almost all instances, 
 Marlborough's power was not sufficient to act in opposition 
 to the council ; and he had the constant mortification of see- 
 ing his best plans thwarted by the ignorance and stupidity of 
 men whose limited understanding could not embrace his vast 
 and general views, or appreciate his grand and comprehensive 
 mind. Embarrassed by their opposition, and hurt by the 
 envious impediments thrown in his way by Greneral Schlan- 
 genberg, Marlborough remonstrated with the states. In 
 consequence, orders were sent from the Hague for the 
 deputies to sufier the army to make several marches without 
 calling a council of war. The duke immediately advanced, 
 threatening both Brussels and Louvain. Uncertain which 
 of these cities was his object, the French and Bavarians 
 quitted their camp, and took up a new position, in order, if 
 possible, to cover both. The duke, however, still pursued 
 his march, and on the 16th of August Gl-eneral Auverkerque 
 
 z 2 
 
340 JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 beat a strong post of the enemy from their position at 
 "Waterloo — that famous field, which a century afterwards 
 immortalized another army and another name. On the 
 18th, after having passed a defile, which might have been 
 defended by a small ibrce, but which was left perfectly un- 
 guarded, the allied army entered on an extensive plain, and 
 came in presence of the enemy, posted on the other side of 
 the little river Ysche. 
 
 The duke and General Auverkerque instantly recon- 
 noitred their position. The army of the allies was fully 
 equal, if not superior, in number to the enemy. The 
 Prench were by no means strongly placed, and were com- 
 manded by a man the least likely of all others to retrieve 
 an error or to remedy a misfortune— occurrences which,, 
 must happen in almost every engagement. The English 
 had the memory of Blenheim in their hearts ; and the only 
 difficulty opposed to them, the passage of the stream, would 
 have been more than compensated by the impetus of the 
 attack. 
 
 Marlborough and Auverkerque determined upon a battle ; 
 but the Dutch deputies, choosing to believe that they had 
 sufficiently obeyed their instructions in sufiering Marl- 
 borough to march thither, would not sufier him to fight 
 when he had arrived. A council of war was called; the 
 majority, as usual, opposed the duke ; and the army marched 
 in another direction, and left the Prench to boast of having^ 
 maintained the field. 
 
 Marlborough's letter to the states on this occasion, is a 
 beautiful instance of generous indignation, tempered by 
 calm and dignified moderation. After giving an account of 
 the preceding movements, the duke proceeds : — 
 
 " At noon, or a little after, our whole army was drawn up 
 in order of battle; and, having viewed, with Monsieur 
 d'Auverquerque, the four posts which I designed to attack, 
 I flattered myself already, considering the goodness and 
 superiority of our troops, that I might soon have congra- 
 tulated your high mightinesses upon a glorious victory. 
 But at last, when the attack was. to begin, it was not 
 thought fit to engage the enemy. I am confident that 
 messieurs the deputies of your high mightinesses will 
 acquaint you with the reasons that were alleged to them 
 pro and con. ; and that they will do Monsieur d'Auver- 
 
DUKE OF MAELBOEOUGH. 341 
 
 .^uerque justice, by informing you that he was of the same 
 opinion with me, that the opportunity was too fair to be let 
 slip." 
 
 The conduct of the Dutch deputies gave universal dis- 
 satisfaction. In England, the matter was brought before 
 Parliament, and an envoy extraordinary was appointed 
 from the British court to remonstrate with the states of 
 Holland. But before his departure, the Dutch people 
 themselves had broken into such loud murmurs against the 
 folly of their deputies, that the states had taken measures 
 to lighten the weight which they hung upon the activity 
 of the English general. The moderation of Marlborough 
 always rendered accommodation easy, and a conference with 
 the G-rand Pensionary seems to have removed all difficulties. 
 The time of action, however, was passed, and no operation 
 of consequence took place during the rest of the campaign. 
 After marches and manoeuvres, which never afforded another 
 favourable opportunity of engaging the enemy, the city of 
 Sandvliet w^s invested ; and shortly Marlborough proceeded 
 to Vienna, in order to cement, by negotiation, the decayed 
 fabric of the great alliance against Prance, and to persuade 
 the imperial court to more active co-operation in the suc- 
 ceeding campaign. On his way he visited Prince Louis of 
 Baden, and though the obstruction of his views by that 
 prince, and the loss of one whole year of invaluable time, 
 might well have excused some little irritation, yet no trace 
 of anger or coldness was to be discovered in Marlborough's 
 conduct. 
 
 Had Marlborough ever sought to retaliate wrong, — had 
 he ever shown one personal resentment detrimental to the 
 common cause, or urged punishment where it was not neces- 
 sary to the security of the whole, the moderation of his 
 demeanour might have been liable to the suspicion of hypo- 
 crisy ; but he seems to have been a man little susceptible 
 of angry passions : or if he did derive any such from nature, 
 the mind was the more admirable which could so completely 
 conquer them. 
 
 At Vienna he was treated with the highest honour, re- 
 ceived as prince of Mindelheim, and was successful in his 
 negotiation, as far at least as appearance went. The court 
 of Berlin, to which he next proceeded, was not less favour- 
 able to his views, and the advantages gained were more 
 
842 JOHN CHIJECHILL, 
 
 solid and more immediate. From thence he revisited' 
 Holland ; and after having concluded various new arrange- 
 ments with the states for the purpose of more vigorous 
 action, he again returned to England, where his private 
 interests infinitely required his presence. 
 
 Success and high fortune are never without envy ; but it 
 is when, after having reached the most pre-eminent height, 
 we begin to take the first step on that descent which almost 
 every man who wins an elevated station is destined sooner 
 or later to tread, that competitors and enemies, hastening 
 to fill up the vacant spot, strive hard to hurry us headlong 
 over the brink, and it requires a giant's strength to resist 
 the rushing of the multitude. The inferior success gained 
 by Marlborough in the last campaign gave his foes the glad 
 hope that he had passed the acme of his power, and they 
 made every efibrt to accelerate his fall. Pamphlets, letters, 
 memorials, speeches in the House of Commons, and whispers 
 in general society — all the arms of political animosity 
 were directed against the great general. His eagle fortune 
 seemed to have slackened her wing, and animosity looked 
 up in the belief that she was tired out. The presence of 
 Marlborough, however, instantly changed the aspect of 
 afiairs. His interest with the queen was still as strong as 
 ever; his political party was not yet shaken in power. 
 Some of his most daring accusers were compelled to public 
 apology, and the houses of parliament voted him thanks 
 for services both civil and military. 
 
 Early in the year Marlborough was again in the field ; 
 but although the English and Dutch forces were easily 
 brought together, a large body of Danes, subsidized by the 
 allies, received orders from their court not to march to the 
 rendezvous till their arrears were paid. Some delays also 
 occurred in the junction of the Prussians ; and the French 
 court, informed of these impediments, resolved to put the 
 plan of ofiensive operations which had been determined 
 upon into immediate execution. The duke of Bavaria and 
 Marshal Villeroy accordingly passed the Deule with seventy 
 thousand men, and advanced to Tirlemont, where they were 
 shortly joined by a strong body of cavalry from the army of 
 marshal de Marsin. 
 
 Marlborough was not at all less disposed to open the 
 campaign with a general battle than the French com-- 
 
DFKE OF MAELBOEOUaH. 843 
 
 manders. In order to hasten the arrival of the Danes, he 
 made himself responsible for the payment of the arrears ; 
 and their commander, the duke of Wurtemberg, well inclined 
 to activity, willingly looked upon this arrangement as suffi- 
 cient, without waiting orders from Denmark, and marched 
 with noble celerity to take a share in the approaching 
 engagement. 
 
 Marlborough, who was now within a long march of the 
 enemy, advanced, immediately on the arrival of the Danes, 
 towards the source of the Gheet, that his operations might 
 not be impeded by the river. The French and Bavarians, 
 mistaking the duke's march for a demonstration on Namur, 
 hastened forward to take up a position at E-amilies, a village 
 at the source of the Gheet, and about a mile and a quarter 
 from the course of the Mehaigne. Between the village and 
 that river is an open plain ; and on this the enemy disposed 
 their forces, taking advantage of several villages, of which 
 Eamilies strengthened their centre, while a rivulet and 
 a morass protected their left. On their right, which rested 
 on the river, was the great force of their cavalry ; and on 
 this point the principal efforts of the day took place on both 
 sides. The battle began upon the left of the allies, between 
 one and two, by an attack upon the village of Franquenies, 
 in which the enemy had stationed a small body of infantry, 
 who were soon dislodged by the Dutch troops commanded 
 by General Auverkerque. A body of French foot and 
 dismounted cavalry was instantly sent to regain the post ; 
 but it was again charged by the Dutch and Danish 
 horse, and the battle became general in that quarter. The 
 household troops of the king of France were now ordered 
 to charge the Dutch, who were driven back in confusion.- 
 Marlborough, however, hastened to the spot, and ordered 
 up a fresh body of cavalry from the right, where they could 
 not act on account of the morass, while he rallied the dis- 
 ordered squadrons of the left, and brought them again to the 
 enemy. In this attempt he was thrown from his horse, and 
 must either have been killed or made prisoner had not a 
 body of infantry advanced and freed him from his dangerous 
 situation. In re-mounting, also, while one of his staff held 
 the stirrup, a cannon-ball passed so near him as to kill the 
 unfortunate officer by his side. The general lived for after- 
 victories. The Dutch and Danes rallied; the reinforce- 
 
344 JOIIl!^ CHITBCHILL, 
 
 ments of cavalry added overwhelming power to their exer- 
 tions, and the right wing of the French was broken, and 
 fled in every direction. While these proceedings were 
 taking place on the left of the allies, a tremendous struggle 
 occurred in the centre for the village of families. The 
 French and Bavarians maintained their ground for some 
 time against all the efforts of General Shultz ; but other 
 bodies of the allied infantry coming up to his support, while 
 the victorious cavalry of the left appeared upon their flank, 
 the enemy abandoned their position and joined the fugi- 
 tives. 
 
 The left wing of the French, which had been protected 
 by the morass till the rest of their army were nearly defeated, 
 left the scene of action in better order than the other divi- 
 sions ; but skilful must that officer be, who, in retiring from 
 a lost field before a victorious and active enemy, can prevent 
 his retreat from being changed into a flight. The appear- 
 ance of the French and Bavarians grew more confused 
 every moment, w^hile the allied cavalry hung upon their 
 rear, and rendered their disarray irretrievable. Night did 
 not stop the flight or the pursuit, and some waggons having 
 been overturned in the road by which a large body of the 
 routed army was effecting its escape, many prisoners were 
 taken. The slain on the side of the French and Bavarians 
 amounted in number to eight thousand ; but their power 
 suffered more from the complete dispersion of their regi- 
 ments, from the immense number of deserters, and from the 
 prisoners and wounded, than from their actual loss in the 
 field. 
 
 The allies suffered much less in proportion in killed and 
 wounded, and the advantages gained w^ere immense. The 
 French, though they dared not deny their defeat, with very 
 natural policy strove to diminish its extent in the eyes 
 of the world, but the consequences established the magni- 
 tude of the victory which Marlborough and Auverkerque 
 had obtained. Louvain, to which Yilleroy and the elector 
 fled in the first instance, was immediately abandoned, Alost 
 and Mechlin sent in their submission, and Brussels and the 
 states of Brabant claimed the protection of the victors both 
 by letters and envoys. This was of course promised by the 
 allies, on condition that the states should instantly recog- 
 nize the Austrian claimant to the crown of Spain and the 
 
DFKE OE MAELBOEOUGII. 345 
 
 sovereignty of the Low Countries, and break off all com- 
 munication with the French government. 
 
 The states of Brabant were in no situation to hesitate. 
 Their submission was rendered without delay, and even with 
 apparent satisfaction, and Marlborough made his entry into 
 Brussels, while the French retreated with precipitation 
 towards Grhent. An indefatigable enemy was upon their 
 track, and, wasting no time on his march, the duke hastened 
 to follow the shattered remains of the army he had con- 
 <][uered, and endeavoured to cut off their communication 
 with France. In this he was disappointed by the precipi- 
 tation with which they fled, leaving Ghent undefended, and 
 marching towards the lines they had formerly occupied near 
 Courtray. Grhent, Oudinard, and Bruges, thus abandoned, 
 surrendered with little hesitation ; and Antwerp, though 
 well-garrisoned and sufficiently provisioned, yielded as soon 
 as it saw itself invested. The only two cities in a vast 
 space of country, from Tirlemont to the sea, which escaped 
 the terror spread by the fight of Eamilies, were Dender- 
 mond and Ostend, and these positively refused to surrender 
 so long as they could hold out. The reply of the governor 
 of Dendermont is worthy of commemoration, from that 
 absence of all bravado, and that quiet moderation, which are 
 generally the concomitants of the most steady valour. " The 
 place being well garrisoned," he said, " and provided with 
 all necessaries for its defence, he hoped to merit the duke of 
 Marlborough's esteem by discharging his duty and the trust 
 reposed in him." 
 
 While the strong places of Flanders were thus falling 
 into the hands of the allies with extraordinary rapidity, and 
 the whole of the Spanish Brabant had been conquered in 
 fifteen days, the French army, after retreating to Courtray, 
 separated into two small flying camps, the one at Mortagne, 
 on the Scheldt, and the other at Armentiers, on the Lys ; 
 and at the same time a great number of the troops were 
 ^irawn off to strengthen the frontier towns. Notwithstand- 
 ing these arrangements, betokening both inactivity and 
 panic, fresh troops were poured into the Low Countries, in 
 order, if possible, to put the French army once more in a 
 situation, to contest the field with the allies. Yilleroy's 
 insufficiency was at length felt ; and Vendome, a man of 
 courage, genius, and skill, was recalled from Italy to try his 
 
34& JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 fortune against the talents . of Marlborough. The allies^ 
 however, still continued to advance from success to success, 
 while the Prench were but making preparations to repair 
 their first misfortune. Ostend, which had once maintained 
 itself against a besieging army for nearly three years, was 
 surrendered at the end of a siege of a few days to the 
 Dutch, under General Auverkerque. 
 
 Menin, which had been skilfully fortified by Yauban, was 
 next attacked ; and while Marlborough covered the siege, 
 General Salisch conducted the operations against the city. 
 Shortly after the place was invested, the duke of Yendome 
 joined the French army, and took the command-in-chief. 
 His forces also were sufficient in number to have contended 
 with the allies ; but a great part consisting of fresh levies 
 which could not be depended upon, and the memory of many 
 defeats being fresh in the minds of the whole, he dared not 
 risk a general engagement with a veteran army full of 
 success, advantageously posted, and commanded by the first 
 general of the age. After a very short but active and 
 vigorous siege, Menin surrendered, and Dendermond and 
 Aeth also underwent the same fate, without the possibility 
 of Yendome affording either of them any efficient aid. 
 These successes concluded the campaign ; one of the most 
 successful in the annals of British warfare. The arms of 
 France had also been unfortunate in Spain and in Italy ; and 
 some slight successes on the German frontier in no degree 
 compensated for all that had been lost. Louis XIY., wha 
 had begun his career with victories and triumphs, now 
 found himself surrounded in his old age by defeats and 
 mortification. No longer dictating terms and enforcing his 
 will with the sword, he asked for peace ; and was happy to 
 guard his own frontier from aggression. Unwilling, how- 
 ever, to compromise his dignity, and to sacrifice altogether 
 his ambition and his revenge, he seems to have endeavoured 
 to treat with the allied powers separately ; and only on 
 finding his motives suspected and his offers refused, to have 
 proposed a general conference with peace for the object. 
 Some degree of ambiguity in the wording of the monarch's 
 communication on this subject, afforded an excuse for 
 rejecting overtures which, it may be well conceived, were 
 not very agreeable to victorious nations or successful 
 generals. 
 
DUKE or MAELBOEOUGH. 347 
 
 The only circumstance which seems for a moment to have 
 rendered peace probable, was the threatening aspect of 
 Charles XII. of Sweden, who, having established Stanislaus 
 on the throne of Poland, had marched into the hereditary 
 dominions of his competitor, Augustus of Saxony ; and, after 
 having forced upon him the most degrading conditions, still 
 remained in the heart of the German empire, recruiting 
 his troops, levying fresh forces, and publicly receiving the 
 envoys of France and Bavaria. At the same time he treated 
 with haughty sternness the ministers of the allies, and re- 
 fused, it is said, to declare his intentions to any but the- 
 duke of Marlborough. 
 
 Such was the position of affairs, when, at the end of the 
 campaign of E/^milies, the duke dispersed his army inta 
 winter-quarters, and returned to England. The glorious 
 successes which he had obtained had either silenced or 
 converted the greater part of his enemies. Yotes of thanks^ 
 addresses, and congratulations, poured in upon him from 
 the Parliament and the people. The titles which had been 
 granted to him were extended to the female line, and settled 
 by Act of Parliament, and the perpetuation, in favour of 
 his heirs, of the annual pension of live thousand pounds 
 granted by the queen on the revenues of the Post-office, 
 which had been formerly refused by the House of Commons^ 
 was now voted with little opposition. 
 
 Marlborough scarcely paused to taste the overflowing cup- 
 which was offered to his lip, but, after a short time spent in 
 London, hastened towards Saxony, to ascertain the designs 
 of the capricious hero of Sweden, and to divert him from 
 any purpose hostile to the views of the allies. Pew nego- 
 tiations have been subjects of more attention at the time of 
 their transaction, or of more dispute as matter of history, 
 than Marlborough's embassy to the camp of Charles XII* 
 Yoltaire represents the matter with epigrammatic brevity, 
 and with perhaps more wit than truth ; and Mottraye, 
 and various others who attacked him on the subject, seem 
 to have been equally mistaken without being equally witty. 
 The facts appear to have been, that Marlborough, on arriving 
 at the camp at Alt Eanstadt, where Charles had fixed his- 
 head-quarters, first applied to that monarch's prime minister. 
 Count Piper ; but at the same time did not scruple to make 
 use of the private interest of Baron Gortz, who was then^ 
 
^48 JOHN CIITJRCHILL, 
 
 t)eginning to share in the favour of the king of Svveden. Ifc 
 is probable that, having previous information from those 
 noblemen of the inclinations of their sovereign,' a very short 
 interview with Charles himself convinced the duke that the 
 tirms of Sweden would be turned against Eussia, and not 
 used to support France. It is very possible, indeed, that, 
 together tvith the knowledge which Marlborough had re- 
 ceived from those ministers, the fact mentioned by Voltaire, 
 that Charles had a map of Muscovy constantly before him 
 during the conference, and that his eyes sparkled and his 
 brow contracted when the name of the czar was intro- 
 duced, may have satisfied the duke that the w^arlike views of 
 'Charles were directed towards the north. At all events, 
 after a very brief stay, he returned to the Hague, with all 
 doubts removed in regard to the intervention of Sweden, 
 and on his way back visited several of the weaker parties to 
 the alliance, to reassure them with his own confidence, and 
 prepare them for an active renewal of the war. The cam- 
 paign that followed, however, was perfectly unfruitful. 
 Yendome and the elector of Bavaria gave Marlborough no 
 opportunity of winning any great success; and the year 
 1707 ended without any event of importance except the 
 agreement of the elector of Hanover to take the command 
 of the imperial forces on the Rhine, and the spirited re- 
 . monstrance of the states of Holland against the slow, 
 inactive, parsimonious manner with which the Grermans 
 bore their part in a war by which they were the principal 
 gainers. Charles XII., also, after pressing the emperor 
 ■with his usual cruel and unkingly harshness, withdrew his 
 troops from the heart of Germany, and marched upon his 
 long-meditated expedition. In England, with the common 
 fickleness of popular opinion, Marlborough's fame varied 
 with his success; and when the campaign ended without 
 one splendid triumph, he who had been the people's idol 
 was no longer worshipped with the same devotion, and his 
 party enemies strove hard to snatch from him the means of 
 future victory. It was proposed in the House of Peers to 
 transfer the great efforts of the war to Spain ; and many 
 excellent arguments were adduced, and many eloquent voices 
 raised in favour of that suggestion. Marlborough, however, 
 was sufficiently strong in influence to defeat the measure ; 
 and it was determined still to employ the great strength of 
 
PIJKE OF MAELBOEOUGH. 341> 
 
 the alliance in that country where he commanded. His 
 favour at court had, nevertheless, by this time passed its 
 acme and reached its decline. The well-known Mrs. Masham 
 had been placed near the queen by the duchess of Marl- 
 borough, and Harley was secretary of state. Harley fancied 
 himself already strong enough in the favour of his sovereign 
 to oppose Marlborough, but he was deceived. Some of his 
 agents were discovered in treasonable correspondence with 
 the national enemy ; other charges were found to affect him 
 personally, and after a severe struggle he was forced to- 
 resign, though contrary to the inclination of the queen. 
 Mrs. Masham did not so openly display her designs, but 
 waited for opportunity, and met with better success. The 
 duchess of Marlborough herself was evidently losing the 
 queen's regard. The duke, in regard to Harley, triumphed 
 over his sovereign's wishes, and was no longer a favourite ; 
 but his party was still predominant at home, and he hastened 
 to support it as far as possible by winning new" victories 
 abroad. 
 
 The want of success which Marlborough had met with in 
 the preceding campaign had given fresh vigour to the move- 
 ments of the French. Louis XIV. had made immense 
 preparations on the side of Flanders : his armies were re- 
 cruited and refreshed, and the duke of Burgundy, the duke 
 de Berry, and the unhappy prince commonly stigmatized 
 by the name of the Pretender, were sent to join the forces 
 under the duke of Yendome, who continued in actual com- 
 mand, though the duke of Burgundy was nominally at the 
 head of the host. 
 
 To counterbalance the preponderance which had been 
 given to the French army, several regiments were drawn 
 from the Upper Ehine ; new levies were made in Grermany ;. 
 Saxony, freed from the oppression of Sweden, brought her 
 contingent into the field ; and Prince Eugene, now recalled 
 from Italy, laid out the plan of the campaign with Marl- 
 borough, and put himself at the* head of the fresh army 
 thus raised. 
 
 It was some time, however, before the duke and the 
 prince could effect their junction. The Germans were 
 naturally and habitually slow, and all Eugene's energy did 
 not suffice to inspire any great degree of activity into their 
 movements. To prevent the French from attacking Marl- 
 
:S50 JOHN CHUECniLL, 
 
 borough with a superior force while Eugene was absent, a 
 report was purposely spread that the prince was destined 
 to act with his division upon the Moselle, which brought 
 about a corresponding detachment from tlie army of Ven- 
 dome. 
 
 The campaign commenced with various unfruitful marches 
 and countermarches, which, tedious in the execution, would 
 be more tedious in the detail. 
 
 The first events of the war this year were decidedly 
 advantageous to the French. Grhent and Bruges were sur- 
 prised, and a small fort, commanding the canal between 
 the latter place and Ostend, was taken by assault. These 
 misfortunes were undoubtedly owing to the care with 
 which Marlborough had abstained from weakening his 
 army by detaching strong garrisons, but if in this he com- 
 mitted a fault, he now hastened to repair it, and to win a 
 great compensation for that which had been lost. He 
 accordingly pressed forward upon the enemy, who showed 
 some inclination to retreat to Ghent. Their march tended 
 towards the small fortified town of Oudenarde, in the neigh- 
 bourhood of which were some high grounds that ofiered 
 great facility for taking up a strong, if not impregnable, 
 position. Marlborough hurried to intercept them, resolved 
 to force them to an immediate battle even before the junc- 
 tion of the forces under Prince Eugene. That general 
 himself, warned of his great friend's determination, left his 
 troops to follow, and proceeded at all speed to join the 
 duke and take a part in the approaching engagement. The 
 Erench and allied armies both advanced rapidly towards 
 the Scheldt at difierent points, but so near that the rear- 
 guard of the one, and the advance of the other were more 
 than once engaged. The passage of the Dender might 
 have been disputed by the Erench with advantage ; but dis- 
 union existed in their councils, and the allies were suffered 
 to pass unopposed. On the eleventh of July, Marlborough 
 approached the Scheldt, and threw forward a detachment 
 to take up a position on the other bank of the river, to lay 
 bridges, and to cover the passage of the army. This 
 detachment interposed between the Erench army, which 
 had passed the river lower down, and the city of Oudenarde, 
 and remained for some time upon the ground before any 
 considerable body of troops could be brought up to its sup- 
 
DUKE OF MARLBOEOUGH. 351 
 
 port. The differences existing between the dukes of Bur- 
 gundy and Vendome, had by this time reached their height, 
 and indecision, half-measures, folly, and defeat were the 
 consequences. The detachment of the allies w^as suffered 
 to remain in possession of the ground till the whole army 
 was at hand to support it. The duke of Burgundy then 
 determined to risk the engagement, and ordered the attack 
 to commence by the cavalry of his right wing. The allies 
 on that side were defended by a rivulet and morass, and the 
 enemy's cavalry recoiled without success. About the same 
 time the duke of Vendome, who had disapproved the former 
 movement, had commanded an attack by his left on the 
 right of the allies, where the ground was practicable, and 
 the cavalry could be supported from the village of Heynem, 
 which was already in possession of the Erench. This order 
 was never executed, either from the obstinate folly of the 
 duke of Burgundy in countermanding it, or from the death 
 of the aide-de-camp charged to carry it to the left. Which- 
 ever of these two accounts — and both have bold supporters 
 — be correct, certain it is that the allies w^ere not attacked. 
 Battalion after battalion passed the river ; the village of 
 Heynem w^as taken from the Erench infantry; those of 
 Hearn and Meullen were occupied by the allies ; and the 
 ^French commanders, finding a general battle no longer to 
 be a matter of discussion, but to have become an inevitable 
 necessity, made a retrograde movement with their whole 
 force, and took up a tolerable position before the villages of 
 Yanighen, Lede, and Huyze, with some difficult ground 
 intersected by hedges and ditches in front of their infantry, 
 while their cavalry occupied the more even ground to the 
 right near the village of "Wirtigen. As soon as the allied 
 infantry had entirely passed the Scheldt, the attack on the 
 enemy's position became general, and after a severe struggle 
 their line was broken in almost every point. The latter 
 part of the battle took place in the dusk of the evening, 
 but before night fell the whole Erench army was in com- 
 plete retreat. The allies remained on the field of battle ; 
 the enemy fled to Grhent. About four thousand men 
 killed and wounded w^as the extent of loss on the side of 
 the allied armies ; and it would appear that the French suf- 
 fered in the proportion of nearly one half more ; but eight 
 thousand prisoners gave importance to the victory, and the 
 
352 JOHN CHTJECHILL, 
 
 renewal of great success added fresh vigour to the energy 
 of the confederates. 
 
 Dismay and consternation, as usual after a defeat, took 
 possession of the French army. At Oudenarde they had 
 fought well and bravely, and it was not till they began to 
 retreat that they seem to have thought of fear. The cou- 
 rage and presence of mind of Yendome, however, though 
 it could not entirely remedy the faults of others, obviated 
 many of the worst consequences. At Grhent the greater 
 part of the fugitive generals were determined to continue 
 their .flight, and it was only by the most determined firm- 
 ness that Yendome at length carried into execution hi& 
 plan of entrenching himself behind the great canal between 
 Ghent and Bruges, and thus protecting the two cities he 
 had won. 
 
 The victory of Oudenarde, nevertheless, was not fruitless 
 to the allies ; the lines which the French had formed some 
 time before near Ypres were levelled, the city of Lens fell 
 into the hands of Count Tilly ; and, the frontier of France 
 being laid open, Artois and Picardy were put under contri- 
 bution. These were the first effects of the battle won on 
 the Scheldt, but Marlborough and Eugene were determined 
 not to rest satisfied with insignificant conquests and partial 
 successes. The siege of Lisle was undertaken, a town 
 most important from its position, from its wealth, and from 
 its military strength. As Marlborough only commanded 
 the army which protected the operations of Eugene, to 
 whose skill the immediate conduct of the siege was confided, 
 I shall not dwell at length upon this part of the campaign. 
 Louis XIY., conscious of the immense value of the capital 
 of French Flanders, made every effort to defend it. It was 
 instantly furnished with a large force and considerable sup- 
 plies, Boufflers took the command in the town, and Yen- 
 dome and Berwick were ordered to hesitate at nothing 
 which could raise the siege. 
 
 The duke of Burgundy and the duke of Berwick formed " 
 their junction on the Dender; and then, with a very 
 superior force, advanced as for the purpose of giving battle 
 to Marlborough. The skilful manoBuvres and bold aspect of 
 the English general, however, obliged them to alter their 
 design, and the enemy were forced to confine themselves to 
 intercepting the convoys of provisions and ammunition 
 
DUKE OE MARLBOROUGH. 353 
 
 destined for the besieging army, and to throwing fresh 
 supplies into the town. The most important engagement 
 of any kind which took place during the siege was on the 
 occasion of a large convoy of ammunition being sent from 
 Ostend under the command of Major- Greneral Webb, with 
 about seven thousand men. The defence of the place had 
 been so long protracted, that the preparations made on the 
 part of the allies had proved inefficient, and on this supply 
 from Ostend depended the event of the siege. Near the 
 wood of "Wynendale, Greneral "Webb was attacked on his 
 march by a force of nearly twenty-four thousand of the 
 enemy ; but, well aware of the importance of success, he 
 stood his ground, fought, and won the victory. The ammu- 
 nition was conveyed safely to the camp of the besiegers, 
 and the city of Lisle fell, after various other efforts to force 
 the assailants to. retire from its walls, and after a noble 
 defence of ten weeks. The citadel, however, still held out, 
 and while the French remained intrenched in force near 
 •Oudenarde, the elector of Bavaria advanced upon Brussels, 
 and attacked that town, which, little defensible in itself, was 
 very insufficiently garrisoned. 
 
 The enemy had laid the greater part of the country under 
 water, by cutting the dykes ; and trusting to the defence 
 afforded by this inundation, and to the strong works they 
 had thrown up round their camp at Oudenarde, they seem 
 never to have imagined it possible that the allies would 
 attempt the passage of the Scheldt to relieve Brussels. No 
 sooner, however, did Marlborough and Eugene hear that it 
 was attacked, than with haste and secrecy they put in 
 motion the whole army, except the part which was neces- 
 sary to carry on the siege of the citadel of Lisle, and boldly 
 advanced upon Oudenarde. The passage of the Scheldt was 
 effected on several points at once, almost under the eyes of 
 the enemy, who only recovered from their astonishment in 
 time to make a precipitate and disgraceful retreat. The 
 elector of Bavaria no sooner heard of Marlborough's 
 motions, than, knowing well his enemy, he decamped from 
 before Brussels, and while Eugene returned to pursue the 
 siege of the castle of Lisle, the duke advanced to provide 
 for the future safety of the Spanish Netherlands. Boufflers 
 was soon forced to surrender; and the French generals-^ 
 2 A 
 
354 JOHN CHUR CHILL, 
 
 fancying the campaign at an end, sent their troops into 
 winter quarters, and returned to Paris. But Marlborough 
 was not satisfied that any town which had been in his 
 power at the beginning of the year should remain in the 
 hands of the enemy at the end, and consequently he imme- 
 diately moved upon Grhent, during the short siege of which 
 place he commanded in person, while Eugene headed the* 
 army which covered his operations. 
 
 Ghent was but feebly defended, and after a few days the 
 garrison capitulated. Scarcely had it surrendered when the 
 news arrived that the Erench had abandoned Bruges and the 
 other fortresses they had taken; and Marlborough and 
 Eugene having won a great victory, and captured an im- 
 portant city — having frustrated all the designs of their 
 adversaries, and recovered all that had been accidentally 
 lost, — ended the campaign with glory and success. 
 
 New negotiations were now entered into for a peace ; and 
 as a proof of his sincere desire to terminate the war,. 
 Louis XIV. sent the marquis de Torcy, one of his principal 
 ministers, to the Hague. That Marlborough was naturally 
 inclined to continue that state of things which brought him 
 every day fresh glory and profit, no one that has studied 
 the human heart can doubt ; but it does not appear in 
 history, that he used any unjust means, or sacrificed in any 
 way the interests of his country, to procure that object ; 
 and this perhaps is all that we can expect from man's 
 nature. Nevertheless, peace was not the result. Louis 
 was resolved not to withdraw his grandson's pretensions to 
 the crown of Spain, and the allies were equally determined 
 not to sheathe the sword without having obtained the great 
 purpose for which it was originally drawn. After long and 
 tortuous negotiations, during which the Erench endeavoured 
 to evade the conditions which Marlborough and the rest of 
 the plenipotentiaries pressed, war was again renewed, and 
 the siege of Tournay was undertaken by Marlborough and 
 Eugene. Various movements made by Marshal Villars and 
 the Erench army, as well as the vigorous resistance of the 
 garrison, proved ineffectual, and the town of Tournay sur- 
 rendered after a siege of three weeks. The citadel still 
 held out ; and a capitulation which had been proposed, 
 having been sent to Paris, and the act of ratification refused 
 by the king of Erance, hostilities were renewed. The 
 
DUKE OF MABLBOEOUGH. 855 
 
 garrison of the castle defended themselves with an activity 
 and valour which did them immortal honour, and mine after 
 mine impeded the progress of the assailants, and diminished 
 the besieging army. 
 
 The allies on their part were not remiss; and daily 
 encounters took place in these subterranean galleries, in 
 which the garrison had generally the advantage. The fire 
 upon the walls of the citadel, however, was continual and 
 destructive, and, after immense eff'orts, the garrison was 
 forced to surrender. 
 
 Mens was next attacked ; but Marshal Eoufflers having 
 joined Yillars in command of the -French army, those gene- 
 rals made several movements which seemed to indicate that 
 they were resolved to raise the siege of the capital of Hainault 
 at the risk of a battle. Marlborough and Eugene, leaving 
 Mons invested, immediately marched to meet the enemy, 
 and came in their presence near the woods of Sarte and 
 Taisnieres. Boufflers and Yillars proceeded without delay 
 to intrench their position, which, defended by hedges, thick 
 woods, and marshy ground, was strong in itself. Their 
 proceedings were conducted with great skill, and before 
 the next morning, when the attack began, their camp was 
 rendered nearly impregnable. Nevertheless, Eugene and 
 Marlborough had determined on the attack, though opposed 
 by the Dutch deputies, who were intimidated by the for- 
 midable appearance of the enemy's intrenchments. The 
 prince began the battle, and of his share in its success I 
 shall give some account in the sketch of his life. As soon 
 as the left flank of the enemy had been turned by Eugene, 
 Marlborough pressed their right, and carried all before 
 him. Intrenchment after intrenchment was taken ; Marshal 
 Villars was severely wounded, and though the Erench fought 
 with great gallantry and resolution, they were obliged to 
 abandon their position and retreat, leaving the field in the 
 possession of the allies. An immense and equal loss in 
 killed and wounded was sustained by each army; but 
 although the victory was dearly bought, it was complete, 
 and the capture of Mons was the result. All military men 
 seem to agree that it was a fault on the part of the allied 
 generals not to have attacked the enemy on the preceding 
 dav^ ere they had time to intrench their position; but it 
 2 A 2 
 
856 JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 must also be remembered that, at that time, the whole force 
 of the allied army had not come up, and that, according to 
 the best accounts, even on the day of battle, the Ereucli 
 were still superior in number. 
 
 After the fall of Mons, the troops were once more dis- 
 persed into winter quarters ; and Marlborough resumed the 
 character of plenipotentiary and negotiator. New proposals 
 of peace were again made, and Louis, reduced to the lowest 
 ebb of fortune, with a bankrupt treasury, a discontented 
 people, and a defeated army, demanded a cessation of war 
 in terms which showed his sincerity, without forgetting 
 that he was a king who had once been amongst the 
 greatest. Other events, however, were preparing in the 
 dark council-chamber of the future, which bestowed upon 
 him what neither mighty armies nor skilful negotiations had 
 been able to procure. 
 
 At Gertrudenburg various conferences were held with 
 pacific views, but in vain. In the mean time, however, the 
 power which Sarah duchess of Marlborough had acquired over 
 the mind of the queen of England by early intimacy, and had 
 confirmed by long habit, had gradually given way before the 
 influence of the haughty pride displayed by herself and the 
 sycophantic intrigues of a new favourite. The duke of 
 Marlborough had governed the state as much by the com- 
 mand which his wife possessed over the queen as by his 
 splendid talents and his vast success. The duchess had for- 
 got, in the insolence of her great prosperity, that the sceptre 
 which he had so long been permitted to guide was held in 
 truth by the hand of another. The queen perhaps had 
 forgot it also ; but not so Mrs. Masham, who soon taught 
 her royal mistress to remember that the power was her own, 
 and before long incited her to exercise it. The arrogant 
 confidence of the duchess of Marlborough hurried on the 
 ruin of her husband, her party, and herself She now 
 despised the queen whom she had once courted, and she 
 committed the irretrievable fault of suffering her contempt 
 to appear. 
 
 Mutual regard being lost, habit was all that the queen 
 had to conquer; and in this the duchess aided the best 
 schemes of her enemies by frequently absenting herself 
 from court upon any occasion of offence. 
 
 Marlborough himself h^d already excited the queen's 
 
DTJKIE OE MAELBOEOITGH. 357 
 
 displeasure in the matter of Harley's dismissal ; and he 
 offended still more deeply by opposing the promotion of 
 Mrs. Masham's brother to a regiment of dragoons. It is 
 probable that before the opening of the campaign of 1710, 
 a complete change of ministry was determined by the 
 queen ; and early in June the earl of Sunderland, the near 
 connection of the duke of Marlborough, was removed from 
 office. Other alterations immediately followed, and all the 
 great officers of the crown laid down their seals, which were 
 speedily bestowed upon the members of the opposite party. 
 The Parliament was dissolved, the aspect of affairs changed ; 
 and though the new ministry still talked of war, though the 
 arms of Erance remained unsuccessful, yet Louis XIY. no 
 longer offered concessions, and new energies seemed given 
 to the court of Versailles. 
 
 While events were thus passing at home, which over- 
 threw his power in the cabinet, Marlborough took care in 
 the field that his glory should still stand on the sure basis 
 of continual success. The Prench lines near Lens were 
 forced and the army compelled to retreat ; the city of 
 Douai was taken, after a vigorous and difficult siege ; Be- 
 thune fell ; St. Vincent and Aire were obliged to surrender, 
 and the heart of France itself seemed opened to the next 
 campaign. 
 
 Marlborough now returned to England, but the magic of 
 his glory had lost its power. 'No vote of thanks issued 
 from the cold lips of the Parliament; no honour and no 
 reward acknowledged his merit or recompensed his ser- 
 vices. The smile had passed from him and his ; and his 
 motives, his actions, and even his triumphs, were scruti- 
 nized, libelled, and obscured. 
 
 The queen affected to receive him graciously, assured 
 him that her new ministry would pursue the war to the 
 expected consummation, desired the aid of his sword in aid 
 of their designs, and promised him the same unremitting 
 support which had enabled him to achieve such great 
 things. Marlborough bore the change of fortune with 
 unshaken steadiness ; no rash act, no hasty expression, 
 evinced that any mortification could cast him from the even 
 tenor of a great mind. Beyond all doubt, he saw the great 
 desire of the new ministers to grant peace to France, and 
 easily divined that that peace would be granted on terms 
 
358 JOHN CHUECHILL, 
 
 disadvantageous, if not disgraceful, to England. He saw- 
 that all his mighty schemes were overthrown, that all his 
 vast efforts were rendered fruitless, that his labour and suc- 
 cess for his country were thrown away, and that all the 
 beams of his thousand triumphs, which might have lighted 
 his nation to the summit of power, were now concentrated 
 in the narrower circle of his own glory. 
 
 He remained, however, unchanged ; and though he might 
 well have paused in his career, content with all that he had 
 acquired, he agreed to risk his glory under a ministry 
 inimical to his person and opposed to his views, in order 
 that as little might be lost as possible to his country in 
 general. He accordingly resigned all the many places held 
 by his wife at court, but complied with the queen's desire 
 in holding his own command. 
 
 The opposite party, who benefited by his services, attri- 
 buted to him mercenary motives for yielding them ; but as 
 the advantage which could accrue to himself was small, the 
 labour great, the risk of his fame and his honour imminent, 
 and as the persons who accused him in this instance im- 
 peached their own credibility by notorious injustice towards 
 the same man on other occasions, it is but fair to view this 
 conduct of the duke in the most honourable light, and to 
 look upon it as another example of that grand moderation 
 which he displayed so often in the course of a long and 
 difficult life. 
 
 Though everything tended towards peace, the campaign 
 in Elanders was opened early, and Marlborough, after 
 various manoeuvres and skirmishes, in which Marshal Villars 
 showed great skill and activity, at length succeeded in 
 deceiving that commander, and got within the strong lines 
 which the Prench had established along the course of the 
 Scarpe from Arras to Bouchain. The latter town was 
 immediately invested, and though Marshal Villars used 
 every endeavour to raise the siege, the place was forced to 
 surrender, and the garrison were made prisoners of war. 
 
 A futile attempt was made by the officers who had sur- 
 rendered the place to show that they had not absolutely 
 accepted terms so little honourable to themselves, but their 
 statement was proved to be unfounded, and only served as 
 a means to some of the French historians for corrupting 
 the history of the time. A wet and inclement season had 
 
DUKE OF MARLBOEOUGII. 359 
 
 ^retarded the operations of this campaign, and brought it to 
 an end more speedily than otherwise would have been the 
 -case. After the fall of Bouchain nothing of importance 
 occurred, and Marlborough returned to England, where his 
 enemies where gradually acquiring strength and influence, 
 and where affairs were still tending towards the arrangement 
 of a peace. 
 
 The death of the Emperor Joseph, and the elevation to 
 the imperial dignity of the Archduke Charles, one of the 
 pretenders to the crown of Spain, favoured the progress of 
 the negotiations ; for the balance of power — the chief pre- 
 text for war on the side of the allies — could be no more 
 maintained by leaving Spain to the reigning emperor than 
 by suffering it to fall to the house of Bourbon. The new 
 head of the Germanic body did not fail to remonstrate with 
 his allies on their evident inclination to sacrifice his in- 
 terests as soon as those interests became no longer their 
 •own. But he remonstrated in vain, and on the arrival of 
 Marlborough in London, the first message from the queen 
 to the Parliament formally announced the opening of a 
 congress for a general treaty of peace. 
 
 In the debate which ensued, various sarcasms and insinua- 
 tions were levelled at Marlborough's conduct; and from the 
 general tone of both Lords and Commons it was apparent 
 that more serious charges were in preparation. A report 
 had already been laid before the House of Commons by the 
 commission for examining public accounts, wherein very 
 grave reflections were made upon the character of the duke, 
 for accepting sums of money from the contractors of the 
 army, and for deducting two and a half per cent, from the 
 pay of foreign troops in the English service. The first sums 
 Marlborough declared to be perquisites of the general com- 
 manding in the Low Countries, and which had been allowed 
 under every English monarch for a long series of years. He 
 stated also that they had been by him universally applied to 
 those secret services by which he had obtained so many 
 advantages over the enemy. Eor the two and a half per 
 • cent, deducted from the pay of the foreign troops he pleaded 
 the queen's warrant, and a'ffirmed that the sums so received 
 ^had been applied to the contingent expenses of those troops 
 'themselves. 
 
 This explanation was not judged sufiicient, and the matter 
 
860 JOHN ClIUECHILL, 
 
 was brought formally before the house. At the same timey 
 the queen dismissed Marlborough from all his employments, 
 upon the ordinary and specious pretence of suffering the 
 matter to undergo an impartial examination. Finding that 
 his former letter to the commissioners had proved of no 
 effect, Marlborough addressed a vindication of his conduct 
 to the House of Commons, by which, supported by witnesses, 
 it was clearly established that the sum he had received from 
 the contractors was the invariable perquisite of the general 
 commanding in the Low Countries, and that the troops had 
 in no degree suffered by a bad or irregular supply. It was 
 also proved that the sum granted for contingencies during 
 his command was but one-fourth of that which had been 
 voted in the time of "William III. ; and that even that pro- 
 vision having been found by that monarch totally insufficient 
 for procuring necessary intelligence, he had himself esta- 
 blished the deduction from the foreign troops. Marlborough 
 also dwelt long on the necessity of procuring intelligence of 
 the enemy's movements, and the difficulty and expense of 
 so doing, and he again declared that the sums in question 
 had been all applied to that purpose. His proofs and his 
 reasonings, however, were without avail. He was known to 
 be avaricious, the party against him was strong ; and the 
 Commons voted that the perquisites were unwarrantable 
 and illegal ; and that the sums deducted from the foreign 
 troops were public money, which ought to be accounted for. 
 
 Shortly after, Mr. Cardonnel, the duke's secretary, who 
 was a member of the House of Commons, was expelled, for 
 having received a sum from the bread contractors; and 
 Mr. Sweet, the deputy paymaster, was censured, and ordered 
 to account for a per-centage which had been accepted by 
 him. . About the same time Prince Eugene arrived in 
 London, for the purpose of averting, if possible, the mea- 
 sures by which the new administration of Great Britain 
 were about to sacrifice his master's interests. His mission, 
 however, produced no beneficial results ; and Eugene, after 
 having had an interview with Marlborough, in which he 
 showed that no change of circumstances could alter hm 
 demeanour towards his great friend and companion in arms, 
 left England, disappointed in all his views. 
 
 Every sort of libel and accusation was now poured upon- 
 the head of Marlborough, and all means were taken to^ 
 
DUKE OF MAELBOEOFGH. 361 
 
 injure his peace and destroy his reputation. He was pro- 
 secuted for the money deducted by the queen's own warranty 
 and sued for the building of Blenheim House, with which 
 his sovereign had rewarded him. Nothing in the annals of 
 history ever more strongly proved the instability of court 
 favour, or the emptiness of that capricious excitation, mis- 
 takenly named national gratitude, than the fate of John 
 duke of Marlborough. Unknowing where the persecution 
 might stop, wearied, disgusted, and chagrined, Marlborough 
 quitted England, and amused himself with visiting the- 
 various cities of Germany. In the mean while his loss wa& 
 felt dreadfully by the armies in the JSTetherlands. Success 
 abandoned the arms of the allies; one after another tha 
 conquests of Marlborough were retaken by Erance ; an 
 unsatisfactory and disadvantageous peace was concluded by 
 England and Holland ; and Grermany was left to fight her 
 battles by herself. 
 
 Such was the state of the continent, when, the queen's 
 health declining, Marlborough came as far on his road to 
 England as Ostend. Lord Oxford and Lord Bolingbroke 
 had been long at variance, and it was evident to each of 
 those ministers that the accession of the house of Hanover 
 must bring back the absent general to his country and to 
 power. Each, therefore, courted him whom they had com- 
 bined to overthrow ; and while they strove to expel each 
 other, called on him for aid. Bolingbroke triumphed, and 
 Oxford was dismissed ; but the continual discussion which 
 had lately agitated the council had still further afiected the 
 weak health of the queen, and on the 1st of August she- 
 expired, leaving the crown to the elector of Hanover. On the 
 same day Marlborough arrived at Dover, where the queen's 
 death was not known. He soon, however, hastened to Lon- 
 don, and made a public entry into the town, which, if con- 
 sidered as a triumph over his enemies, was indecent, and 
 almost cruel, but which might originate in better motives. 
 The country was in an unsettled state ; fears, though 
 groundless, were entertained of an attempt to alter the suc- 
 cession. Marlborough's friends declared that this public 
 entry was against his wish, but that he yielded to the ifti- 
 portunity of those who desired it, in order to overawe tha 
 turbulent and give confidence to the adherents of the houses 
 of Hanover. 
 
^62 JOHN CHCECHILL. 
 
 After the arrival of Greorge I., the life of the duke oi 
 Marlborough offered so few events that they may be com- 
 prised in a very short space. His long adherence to the 
 house of Hanover, and to those principles which placed it 
 on the throne, met with gratitude and reward. He was 
 restored to many of his former offices, was treated on all 
 occasions with deference and distinction ; and, at length, 
 honour and success shone upon his waning days. Marl- 
 borough witnessed the first attempt, in 1715, to restore the 
 family of the exiled king, and contributed, as captain-general 
 of the forces, to bring about its defeat. Shortly after, worn 
 and weary with a long and active life, he retired from public 
 business ; and, having spent a few years in tranquillity and 
 repose, he died on the 16th of June, 1722, at the age of 
 seventy-three. 
 
 So many characters have been drawn of the duke of 
 Marlborough, that it is scarcely necessary to add another in 
 this place. His glory is a part of the glory of Grreat Britain ; 
 ^nd as in the body of this sketch I have dwelt as much as 
 I thought necessary on his faults, I shall not recall them 
 here. No man was ever more dear to the army he com- 
 manded ; no man was ever more esteemed by the foreign 
 princes he served ; no man was ever more admired by the 
 generals he opposed. His own nation, with the usual in- 
 justice of contemporaneous prejudice, sometimes lauded him 
 to the sky, sometimes denied him the merit that strangers 
 and adversaries were willing to admit; but the world at 
 large did him justice even during his life, and posterity have 
 placed his niiine amongst the immortal. 
 
863 
 
 PRINCE EUGENE OP SAVOY. 
 
 'Son of the count of Soissons and Olympia Mancini, niece of Cardinal 
 Mazarin — Destined for the church, but, inclined to a military life, 
 leaves France in disgust, receives a command in the imperial service, 
 and is present at the siege of Vienna by the Turks — Capture of Bel- 
 grade — Defeated by Catinat — Carries the war into France — Created 
 field-marshal, and receives the order of the Golden Fleece — Successes 
 and defeats, as a general — Commands in Italy — Confers with Marl- 
 borough — Foils the Hungarians in their attack upon Vienna-rShares 
 the honour of the battles of Blenheim, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet, 
 with Marlborough — Other successes — Visits England — Minor suc- 
 cesses, with the celebrated victory before Belgrade, terminate his 
 military career — Final retirement, death, and character. 
 
 lPeince Eugene, nearly as mucli famed from being a sharer 
 in the victories of Marlborough as from his own individual 
 merit, was the son of Eugene Maurice of Savoy (by the 
 mother's side, count of Soissons) and of Olympia Mancini, 
 niece of Cardinal Mazarin. His father intrigued, and was 
 banished from the court of France ; and his mother also 
 quitted Paris not many years after, suspected of many vices 
 of which she very probably was innocent ; and guilty of a 
 thousand follies, which were more strictly scrutinized than 
 her crimes. Eugene was originally destined for the church, 
 and, according to a scandalous custom then common in 
 Erance, as well as other Catholic countries, he obtained 
 several benefices while but a child, of which he was eager to 
 divest himself as soon as his mind was capable of discrimi- 
 nating between one profession and another. He seems soon 
 to have felt within himself that ardent desire for military 
 service which is sometimes a caprice and sometimes an in- 
 spiration ; but Louis XIY., at whose court he still remained, 
 positively forbade his throwing off the clerical habit, not- 
 withstanding all the entreaties of the young abbe, and, by 
 •so doing, incurred the enmity of one who inherited from his 
 mother no small faculty of hatred. 
 
 At length various circumstances, with which he was in no 
 degree connected, brought about a change in the affairs of 
 
364i PEINCE ErGEKE OE SAVOY. 
 
 Europe that afforded him an opportunity of escaping from 
 the restraint placed upon his inclinations, and of turning 
 the genius they had despised against those who had con- 
 temned him. Prance and Austria had long been either 
 secretly or openly at strife ; but now the dilapidated state 
 of the G-erman empire, after tedious and expensive wars, 
 together with the combination of external foes and in- 
 ternal insurrection, threatened the nominal successor of the 
 Koman Caesars with utter destruction. The Hungarians in 
 revolt, joined with the Turkish forces which they had called 
 to their assistance, marched into Grermany and laid siege to 
 Vienna. Louis XIY. had hitherto taken care to foment 
 the spirit of insurrection, and' to aggravate the more press- 
 ing dangers of Grermany ; but at this moment, to cover the 
 encouragement he had held out privately to the rebels, he 
 permitted the nobility of his court to volunteer in defence 
 of Christendom, which the fall of Vienna would have laid 
 open to infidels. A large body of young men set out imme- 
 diately for Austria, amongst whom Prince Eugene contrived 
 to effect his departure in secret. The famous, but unami- 
 able, minister, Louvois, when he heard of the young abbe's 
 escape, remarked, with a sneer, " So much the better ; it 
 will be long before he returns." 
 
 The speech was afterwards repeated to Eugene, who 
 replied, " I will never return to France but as a conqueror ;" 
 and he kept his word — one of the few instances in which 
 history has been able to record that a rash boast was after- 
 wards justified by talents and resolution. 
 
 On arriving at Vienna, Eugene cast away the gown for 
 ever ; and his rank instantly procured him a distinguished 
 post near the person of the duke of Lorraine, then com- 
 manding the imperial forces. 
 
 The whole of Germany was in a state of consternation 
 ^nd confusion utterly indescribable. The emperor had fled 
 from his capital ; and the duke of Lorraine, with a small army, 
 had taken up a position near the city, apparently rather with 
 the expectation of witnessing its fall, than in the hope of 
 bringing it succour. At the same time the Turkish forces, 
 powerful in numbers, but despicable in discipline and skill, 
 had encamped in the most disadvantageous situation it is 
 possible to conceive, with high grounds commanding their 
 camp in every direction, and without any natural defence to 
 
PEINCE EUGENE OF SAVOY. 3G5 
 
 counterbalance, even in a degree, so great an inconvenience. 
 Still, as no efficient army could be brought into the field by 
 the emperor without long preparation, and as Vienna was in 
 no condition to protract its resistance, the fate of the capital 
 seemed inevitable. The very apprehension of such an event 
 struck terror into the country, and paralyzed the means of 
 resistance. Such was the state of Germany when Eugene 
 arrived ; but shortly after he had joined the army, John 
 Sobieski, the valiant king of Poland, advanced to the assist- 
 ance of the emperor, and the Turks were forced to raise the 
 siege of the Austrian capital. In the campaign that followed 
 against the infidels, Eugene distinguished himself greatly, 
 both by a sort of light, unthinking courage, and by a degree 
 of skill and judgment, which seemed to show that the levity 
 he was somewhat too fond of displaying, though perhaps a 
 confirmed habit, from his education in an idle and frivolous 
 court, was no true type of the mind within : it was the 
 empty bubble dancing on the bosom of a deep stream. This 
 was felt by those who surrounded him ; and promotion suc- 
 ceeded with astonishing rapidity. Eefore the end of three 
 months he was in command of a regiment of horse. 
 
 Continual battles, sieges, and skirmishes, now inured 
 Eugene to all the hardships and all the dangers of war, and 
 at the same time gave him every opportunity of acquiring a 
 thorough knowledge of his new profession, and of obtaining 
 higher and higher grades in the service. In the course of 
 a very few years he had been wounded more than once 
 severely ; but at the same time he had aided in the taking 
 of Neuhausel, Vicegradt, Grran, and Buda ; was the first 
 who entered sword in hand into the intrenched camp of 
 the Turks at Hersan; and had received a commission as 
 lieutenant-general in the Austrian service. The storming 
 of Belgrade was the next great event in which Eugene was 
 called to act ; and here, in command of a body of reserve, 
 he attacked the walls, after the first parties had been 
 repulsed, and succeeded in forcing his way into the city. 
 The regiments which had failed at first now rallied ; and, the 
 path being open, the imperial forces poured in in all directions, 
 and Belgrade was taken after a most obstinate defence. 
 
 Victor Amedseus, duke of Savoy, was shortly after this 
 persuaded by his cousin Eugene to embrace the interests of 
 the house of Austria, and to enter into the great alliance 
 
366 PEINCE ETJGENE OE SAVOY. 
 
 whicli had been formed for the purpose of depressing* 
 France. 
 
 The vast power which Louis XIY. had acquired, and tho* 
 evident disposition he displayed to extend that power to the 
 utmost, had armed the fears of all the monarchs of Europe 
 against him. At the same time, the armies which had con- 
 quered for him were dispersed, and the generals who had led 
 them to victory had in most iustances fallen into the grave. 
 Perhaps these considerations might lead the duke of Savoy 
 to withdraw from an alliance which promised little support 
 and imminent danger ; but he had soon reason to repent of 
 having done so. Marshal Catinat, the best of Louis' living 
 officers, was ordered to act against him ; the whole of Pied- 
 mont quickly fell into the hands of the French ; and on 
 the 18th of August the duke was completely defeated by 
 the adverse general. Eugene, who was present, though 
 wounded with a spent ball, covered the retreat of the troops 
 of Savoy ; but the battle was nevertheless completely lost, 
 and influenced for long the fate of Piedmont. 
 
 After various campaigns in Italy, where little was effected 
 but a diversion of the French forces from the scene of war 
 in Germany and the JNTetherlands, Eugene prevailed upon 
 his cousin, the duke of Savoy, to lead his troops into France, 
 and to draw the French army from Italy, by carrying the 
 war into their own country. The scheme was a bold one; 
 but it proved most successful ; and Embrun, Quilestre, and 
 Gap, having fallen, the allied army, under Victor Amedseus 
 and Eugene, advanced rapidly into Dauphiny. Terror and 
 consternation spread before them ; and, in revenge for the 
 devastation committed by the French in the Palatinate, they 
 now ravaged the whole of Dauphiny, burning the villages 
 and hamlets, and laying the cities under heavy contributions. 
 The heart of France was open to the invading army ; but, 
 fortunately for that country, a severe illness put a stop to- 
 the proceedings of Victor Amedseus. Eeturning to Turin 
 in haste, he left his army to the command of Prince Eugene : 
 but the Italian generals contrived, by hesitation in their 
 obedience and opposition to his wishes, to defeat Eugene's 
 best schemes, so that he was glad, by a rapid retreat, to 
 bring his army in safety to Savoy. 
 
 Eugene was now created field-marshal, and received the 
 order of the Golden Fleece ; but his gratification at these 
 
PRINCE EUGENE OF SAYOY. 36T 
 
 marks of approbation was bitterly alloyed by a severe defeat 
 which he suffered near Pignerol, in company with his cousin 
 t*he duke of Savoy, who madly engaged the French forces 
 in a position where his own discomfiture was a certain 
 consequence. 
 
 Few movements of any import took place in Italy for 
 some years after this, in which Eugene was concerned. 
 Victor Amedaeus, partly from caprice, partly from fear, 
 withdrew from his alliance with Austria, and once more 
 signed a treaty of neutrality with I^rance. The imperial 
 troops, unable singly to keep the field against the French, 
 abandoned Savoy; and Eugene, though his efibrts had 
 proved unsuccessful, was received at Vienna with the 
 highest distinction. 
 
 The emperor, probably judging rightly in this instance, 
 that the prince had failed from his energies being crippled 
 by a divided power, now gave him the sole command of the 
 army opposed to the Turks in Hungary. 
 
 Eugene immediately found himself menaced by the whole 
 force of the Turkish empire; but after some masterly 
 manoeuvres, he saved the city of Peterwaradin, on which 
 the Ottoman forces were marching ; and then, though with 
 very inferior power, approached the intrenchments of the 
 grand vizier at Zeuta, with the intention of forcing him in 
 his camp. At the very moment, however, that the army 
 had advanced too far to retreat, a courier arrived, bearing^ 
 the emperor's commands to Eugene, on no account to risk 
 a battle. Eugene's measures were already taken; he put 
 the letter in his pocket, attacked the Turks, defeated them 
 completely, left twenty thousand Mussulmans dead on 
 the field, and ten thousand drowned in the Danube ; pur- 
 sued his victory by burning Serai and securing the frontier 
 line of fortresses ; and then returned to Vienna in expecta- 
 tion of reward and honour. 
 
 The emperor received him coldly, and before the day was 
 over he was put under arrest for disobedience of orders. 
 The clamour, however, of the people, and some feeling 
 of shame in the bosom of the proud, weak Leopold, soon 
 caused him to restore Eugene to his rank, and to send 
 him once more against the Turks. Success, however,, 
 did not follow the prince through the succeeding cam- 
 paign; and before the season brought it naturally to a. 
 
S68 PEINCE EUGIJIS^E OF SAVOY. 
 
 close, peace had been determined on between Austria and 
 the Porte. 
 
 Some time previous to the period of which we now speakj 
 Louis XIV. had endeavoured to tempt Eugene back to his 
 court, by the offer of a marshal's rank in the Erench army, 
 the government of Champagne, and a considerable yearly 
 pension. Eugene, who felt that, however flattering to 
 himself, the offer originated alone in the selfishness of an 
 5imbitious monarch, refused it in terms sufficiently galling to 
 the proud king of Erance. Nevertheless, after the peace of 
 "Westphalia, Yillars, who was sent as ambassador to Vienna, 
 is supposed to have been again charged with a mission of 
 the same nature to Eugene. The fact, however, is not only 
 doubtful, but very improbable, from the character of all 
 parties concerned. Eugene was not a man to leave himself 
 the possibility of changing ; Louis was not a man meanly to 
 solicit where he had once been refused ; and Villars was 
 not a man to undertake a mean commission, even for 
 a king. It is probable that the courtesy which the prince 
 evinced towards Marshal Villars, from a sense of his 
 personal merit, at a time when the haughty court of Vienna 
 was mean enough to treat even an ambassador with cold 
 disrespect, was the sole origin of the report. However 
 that might be, Eugene remained for a length of time 
 at Vienna, filling up his inactivity by trifling wdth many 
 arts and many enjoyments, till at length, the war of the 
 Succession, as it was called, breaking out, he was appointed 
 to the command of the army in Italy. 
 
 Thirty thousand excellent troops were put under the 
 command of Eugene ; but the great difficulty of the campaign 
 seemed to be the march of these troops into Italy. Venice, 
 with its usual temporizing policy, had remained neuter, and 
 Catinat rested upon the verge of that republic, ready 
 to attack the German army in its passage through the only 
 defiles by which it could enter Lombardy without violating 
 the Venetian territory. 
 
 Prince Eugene, however, was not a man to suffer his 
 plans to be thwarted by any attention to ceremony. He at 
 once effected his passage through the difficult passes of the 
 Tyrol; and marching calmly across the neutral territory, 
 sent a formal apology to the republic, and pursued his 
 journey. He soon came in presence of the Erench army ; 
 
PEINCE EFGENE OF SAVOY. 369 
 
 and after deceiving them by a demonstration of crossing the 
 Po, he passed the Adige at Carpi, where he defeated 
 a division of the French under General St. Premont, 
 out- manoeuvred Catinat, joined the reinforcements which 
 had followed him, and passing the Mincio, made himself 
 master of the whole country between the Adige and the 
 Adda. 
 
 The duke of Savoy, who was joined in command with 
 Catinat, was a strange combination of the most heroic, 
 perhaps the most chivalrous courage, and the most capri- 
 cious treachery. To fight a battle, whether with any 
 chance ot success or not, was always his desire ; and, in the 
 present instance, he pressed Catinat to engage Eugene 
 under every disadvantage. The French general resisted, 
 and the dispute being referred to Louis XIY., he sent 
 Villeroy to command the army in Piedmont, with orders to 
 risk a general action. Catinat was disgusted and retired ; 
 and for some time Eugene had the good fortune to be 
 opposed by Marshal Villeroy, one of the most inefi&cient 
 officers in the French service. Consequently, though no very 
 signal victory was gained by the imperial forces, the result 
 of the whole campaign was infinitely unfavourable to 
 France. Villeroy, however, was at length taken, in a 
 daring attempt made by Eugene to surprise Cremona, 
 which was worse than unsuccessful ; for the loss of that 
 officer to the service of Louis XIV. was the greatest 
 advantage that could be conferred on it. The consequence 
 was, that on the arrival of Vendome, who succeeded to the 
 command, the French army, always superior in number to 
 the Austrian, regained at least as much as Villeroy had 
 lost. 
 
 At length a general engagement took place at Luzara, at 
 which Philip of Spain was present. The forces of the 
 French have been estimated at forty thousand, those of the 
 imperial general did not much exceed one half that number. 
 The battle was long and fierce, and night only terminated 
 the contest. Both parties of course claimed the victory. 
 The French sung a Te Deum, but retreated; the imperial 
 army retained their ground. 
 
 Nevertheless, the fruits of victory were gathered by the 
 French. Their immense superiority of numbers gave them 
 
 2 B 
 
370 PEIKCE EUGENE OF SAVOY. 
 
 the power of overrunning the whole country; and tha 
 imperial court, either from indolence, heedlessness, or 
 intrigue, failed to take any step to support its army 
 in Italy ; so that all which Eugene had taken, sooner 
 or later fell into the enemy's hands, and he himself, dis- 
 gusted with the neglect he had met with, left his army 
 under the command of another, and set out to see 
 whether he could not procure some reinforcement, or at 
 least some supply of money to pay or provide for his 
 forces. 
 
 At Vienna he found good reason to suspect that Count 
 Mansfeld, the minister at war, had by some means been, 
 gained to the interest of France. Everything which could 
 tend seriously to depress that country was either opposed in 
 the council, or rendered ineffectual by procrastination, diffi- 
 culties, and neglect. Whether Count Mansfeld was really 
 guilty or not may be doubted, for men's follies are very 
 often mistaken for vices ; but that his conduct produced as 
 baneful an effect on those operations of state which he was 
 called upon to conduct as if he were criminal, there can 
 be no doubt. That such a man should be removed, was 
 absolutely necessary for the interest of Germany, yet the 
 authority and remonstrances of Prince Eugene, together 
 with evident proof of Mansfeld' s mismanagement, were not 
 sufficient to procure his dismissal, till Prince Lout's of 
 Eaden joined in the same demand ; when, at length, the 
 weak or criminal minister was transferred from the depart- 
 ment of war to a high station in the emperor's household. 
 The season was too far advanced for the armies, which his 
 conduct had nearly ruined, to experience any speedy benefit 
 from his absence ; but in the mean while Eugene was ap- 
 pointed minister at war ; and some time after, in this capa- 
 city, proceeded to confer with Marlborough on the united 
 interests of England and Austria. 
 
 This negotiation was most successful ; and here seems to 
 have been concerted the scheme which Marlborough after- 
 wards so gloriously pursued, for carrying on the war against 
 France on the side of Germany, and of thus freeing the 
 empire. In a military point of view, also, Eugene's efforts, 
 though supported by no great army, and followed by no 
 great victory, were wise and successful. He foiled the Hun- 
 garian rebels in their bold attack upon Vienna, checked 
 
PEINCE EUGElSiE OF SAVOY. 37> 
 
 tliem in their progress everywhere, and laid the foundation 
 of their after- subjection. 
 
 Soon after this, Eugene took the command of the imperial 
 army on the Bhine ; and after considerable manoeuvring^ 
 singly, to prevent the junction of the French army with 
 that of the duke of Bavaria, finding it impossible, he effected 
 his own junction with the duke of Marlborough, and shared 
 in the glories of the field of Blenheim. 
 
 Eugene was here always in the thickest of the fight, yet 
 never for a moment forgot that he was called upon to act as 
 a general rather than a soldier. His operations were planned 
 as clearly and commanded as distinctly, in the midst of the 
 hottest conflict, as if no tumult had raged around him, and 
 no danger had been near to distract his attention : yet his 
 horse was killed under him in the early part of the battle ; 
 and, at one moment, a Bavarian dragoon was seen holding 
 him by the coat with one hand, while he levelled a pistol 
 at his head with the other. One of the imperialists, how- 
 ever, coming up at the moment, freed his general from this 
 unpleasant situation ; and Eugene proceeded to issue his 
 orders without the least sign of discomposure. 
 
 Having given a more detailed account of this great battle 
 in another part of this book, it is necessary to say little 
 more of Eugene's conduct on this occasion than that he 
 seconded Marlborough as Marlborough deserved ; but the 
 trait in which the peculiar character of his mind chiefly de- 
 veloped itself, is to be found in the account that he gave of 
 the battle, both to his own court and several other powers. 
 Marlborough is the theme of his whole praise — to Marlbo- 
 rough is attributed the success of the day ; and though the 
 army receives its just share of approbation, scarcely a word 
 is found of Prince Eugene. 
 
 The following year Eugene returned to Italy, and once 
 more began the war against Yendome. IS'otwithstanding 
 all his skill and activity, however, the superiority of the 
 Erench numbers, and the distinguished military genius of 
 their chief, prevented Eugene from meeting with any very 
 brilliant success. He surprised various detachments, relieved 
 several tow*ns, was successful in many skirmishes ; but he 
 failed in drawing the Erench out of Savoy, and w^as totallv 
 repulsed in endeavouring to pass the Adda. 
 2 B 2 
 
372 PRINCE ErGENE OF SAYOY. 
 
 In the attempt to do so, many men and several valuable 
 officers were lost on both sides. The battle was long and 
 furious. Both Yen dome and Eugene displayed all their 
 skill to foil each other; and perhaps so bravely contested a 
 field was as honourable to each as a great victory. Neither, 
 however, could fairly claim the battle as won ; for though 
 Eugene failed in passing the river, the Erench were the 
 greatest sufferers in the contest, and they did not succeed 
 in compelling the Germans to fly, though they prevented 
 them from advancing to join the duke of Savoy. Eugene, 
 with his wonted reckless courage, exposed himself more 
 than even was necessary ; and, in the very commencement 
 of the engagement, was wounded severely in the neck, not- 
 withstanding which he remained a considerable length of 
 time on horseback, reiterating efforts upon efforts to gain 
 his object, till a second musket-ball in the knee forced him 
 to absent himself for a time from the field. These wounds 
 probably decided the failure of his attempt ; but they did 
 not prevent him from securing his army in good winter 
 quarters, and checking all active operations on the part of 
 Yendome. 
 
 The next campaign was more successful. Yendome, after 
 defeating a body of imperial troops at Calemato, was re- 
 called, and the command of the Erench forces given to the 
 duke of Orleans and the Marechal de Marsin, who, with an 
 army of eighty thousand men, invested Turin, the last hold 
 of the duke of Savoy. 
 
 Eugene immediately marched to form his junction with 
 the duke ; and, no longer opposed by the genius of Yen- 
 dome, passed the Adige unattacked, crossed the Tanaro 
 and the Po, joined his cousin near Carmagnola, and ad- 
 vanced to the succour of Turin. 
 
 By this time the capital of the duke of Savoy had sus- 
 tained a long and close siege of four months. La Eeuillade, 
 who commanded the besieging army, had sacrificed nearly 
 fourteen thousand men ; but his force, together with that 
 which covered his operations, consisted of eighty thousand 
 well-disciplined and well-supplied troops, while Daun, who 
 defended the city, had already lost six thousand out of the 
 small number of his garrison. The ammunition and the pro- 
 visions were all equally exhausted ; and four days must have 
 seen the fall of Turin, when Eugene and the duke of Savoy 
 
PEINCE EUGENE OF SAVOY. 873 
 
 arrived within sight of the French camp. The German 
 general brought up thirty-three thousand troops to the 
 relief of the town ; but, as a shrewd writer has observed, 
 the effects of Marlborough's victory at families were felt 
 even in Italy. The French were dispirited, and uncertainty 
 and divided counsels pervaded their camp. On the 7th 
 of September, the allied army, with less than half their nu- 
 merical force, attacked them in their intrenchment, forced 
 their position in every direction, and after one of the 
 severest conflicts ever known, completely defeated them, 
 and raised the siege of Turin. The battle, however, was at 
 one time nearly lost to the allies by an accident which befell 
 Eugene. In rallying a body of imperial cavalry, the prince's 
 horse received a ball in his chest, fell with the rider, and 
 threw him into a ditch, where, stunned with the fall, he lay 
 for several minutes amongst the dead and dying. The re- 
 port spread through the army that he was killed ; a general 
 alarm was the consequence ; and the infantry were begin- 
 ning to give way, when, suddenly starting up, Eugene com- 
 manded the nearest G-erman regiment to fire upon the 
 French cavalry that were coming up to the charge. The 
 eftect was tremendous ; the French went to the right 
 about ; and, though they rallied again and returned to the 
 charge, the imperial troops continued gradually to force 
 their way on, till their adversaries fled in confusion. 
 
 Never did the French on any occasion sufler a more total 
 defeat ; and the immense booty taken in their camp served 
 to satisfy and encourage the ill-paid army of Eugene. On 
 this occasion all their historians discover that treachery. 
 was the cause of their misfortune. St. Simon accuses some, 
 and Eeaumelle others of the French commanders ; but it is 
 by no means easy to ascertain where this treachery lay. 
 As to La Feuillade, who commanded the siege, he had 
 comparatively little to do with the battle ; and it seems 
 certain at present, that he pressed the city vigorously, and 
 would have taken it, had it not been for the complete rout 
 of the army which protected his operations. Many doubts 
 are entertained whether Marshal de Marsin acted wisely or 
 not in opposing the duke of Orleans' desires to go out of 
 the lines, and fight Eugene in the plain. The day was lost, 
 and its event brought the stigma of folly upon De Marsin's 
 opinion ; but he gave his life to win the battle, and therefore 
 
374 PEINCE EUGEISTE OF SAVOY. 
 
 could hardly be accused of treachery in losing it. The 
 truth is, the French fought bravely, and none of them more 
 bravely than their generals. Marsin was killed, the duke 
 of Orleans twice wounded ; but they wanted the impetus of 
 attack ; their first efforts were unsuccessful, they lost heart, 
 got into confusion, and fled. 
 
 The consequence of this victory was the evacuation of the 
 north of Italy by the French. Eugene was now everywhere 
 successful for some time. He forced the passage of the Col 
 de Tende, carried the French intrenchments on the Yar, 
 and laid siege to Toulon. Here, however, he failed ; the 
 defence was long and obstinate, reinforcements arrived at the 
 French city, and Eugene, together with the duke of Savoy, 
 agreed to raise the siege and retire once more into Piedmont. 
 
 Eugene was now again called to join Marlborough, in 
 company with whom he fought and conquered at Oudenarde, 
 took Lisle (where he was again severely wounded), Grhent, 
 Eruges, Tournay, and Mons ; and forced the French lines 
 at Malplaquet, after a severe and long-protracted struggle, 
 in which two hundred thousand men were engaged, and 
 nearly sixty thousand fell. 
 
 The French position on this occasion was naturally 
 strong, covered by w^oods, hedges, and villages ; and every 
 effort had been made to render it impregnable which 
 the time permitted. Lines and redoubts were thrown 
 up in various parts of the field ; and all natural ad- 
 vantage had been improved by promptitude and skill. The 
 allied army, when first it appeared in presence of the 
 French, was considerably inferior in number; but a de- 
 tachment of eighteen battalions, recalled from the force 
 besieging Tournay, put the two forces nearly upon an 
 equality in this respect. In position the French still re- 
 mained superior; but Marlborough and Eugene both 
 decided on attacking them; and about eight o'clock on the 
 31st of August the battle began by a heavy cannonade. 
 The first attack of the allies was made upon the French in- 
 trenchments in front of the woods of Sart and Taisnieres, 
 and on the left of their position. The right of the allies, by 
 which this operation was performed, was commanded by 
 Eugene in person ; and, after struggling with a thousand 
 impediments, and forcing several intrenchments and barri- 
 cades of felled timber, the confederate troops succeeded in 
 
PRINCE EUGENE OF SATOY. 375 
 
 less than an hour in driving the Prench back into the 
 woods, and thus completely turning the left ot their posi- 
 tion. The attack on the enemy's right was as successful, 
 but not so rapid ; and it was some time before Marlborough 
 found himself justified in striking one great blow for com- 
 plete success, by pouring the whole of his remaining 
 strength upon the centre of the French army. By this 
 time, however. Prince Eugene had completely triumphed on 
 the right ; and the most hazardous battle which had been 
 risked during the war was crowned with conquest. 
 
 If the victories of Blenheim and Oudenarde might more 
 fairly be attributed to Marlborough than to Eugene, the 
 success at Malplaquet was chiefly obtained by the prince, 
 who had forced the intrenchments, taken the wood of Sart, 
 .and turned the enemy's flank, before Marlborough had 
 made much progress against the other wing. 
 
 Eugene had strongly counselled the battle, though op- 
 posed by the States of Holland, and had in a measure taken 
 the responsibility upon himseii'. On all occasions Eugene's 
 impetuosity led him to expose his person more than mere 
 duty required, and now, having staked his fame on the suc- 
 cess of his attempt, he seems to have resolved not to survive 
 a defeat. In the very first attack he received a severe 
 ^ound behind the ear, which bled so profusely that all his 
 staff" pressed him to retire for the purpose of having it 
 dressed. "If I am beaten," replied Eugene, ''it will not 
 be worth while ; and if we beat the enemy, I shall have 
 plenty of time to spare for that." 
 
 Shortly after this victory, Marlborough was disgraced ; 
 the Erench interest triumphed in the cabinet of St. James's; 
 and though Eugene, who was sent ambassador to England, 
 was received with acclamations by the people and favour 
 by the court, he could not shake the determination of Queen 
 Anne, who, to justify her resentment, cast away her success. 
 Eugene returned to his command in the Low Countries, 
 but fortune no longer awaited him. Marshal Yillars struck 
 yet one great stroke in favour of Erance, and by his victory 
 near Landrecy, shed a bright gleam of glory on the evening 
 of Louis Xiy. Eugene, hampered by raw forces under his 
 command, and a raw monarch commanding him, was not 
 more successful in the next campaign on the llhine than ha 
 "had been on the Scheldt. 
 
376 PEINCE EUGENE OF SAYOT. 
 
 Europe was sick of war; bloodshed and carnage, famine^, 
 plunder, fire, and desolation, had swept, turn by turn, each 
 district of the continent, and even monarchs began to ap- 
 preciate glory justly, and to long for peace. England, 
 Hussia, Savoy, Portugal, and Holland, had already entered 
 into a treaty with Erance : Eugene strongly recommended 
 the same conduct to the emperor, and prevailed. He was 
 in consequence appointed to treat with his friend and adver- 
 sary Yillars, at Eadstadt. Between two such men, few 
 difficulties occurred. They met each other with generosity 
 and frankness ; and the terms being soon concluded, the 
 treaty was signed by the plenipotentiaries at Eadstadt, and 
 ratified shortly after at Baden. 
 
 After some short repose, we soon find Eugene once more 
 acting against the Turks in Hungary. Both Austria and 
 Turkey had for some time shov^n a disposition to renew the 
 war which had been so long abandoned ; and a good pre- 
 tence was easily found on both sides. The Ottoman power, 
 though verging towards its decline, was not at that time 
 the decrepit thing which it now appears. While other 
 countries have advanced rapidly in all arts, and in none 
 more than that of war, Turkey, with a government en- 
 tangled in all its movements by a religion which admits of 
 no improvement, has stood fixed on the particular spot in 
 the march of human knowledge, where first she took her 
 station in the history of years. Nation after nation has 
 left her far behind ; but at the period of which I speak, the 
 distance between her degree of civilization and that of other 
 lands was infinitely less than at present. No sooner was 
 war determined, than Achmet III. marched an immense 
 force down to the frontiers of Hungary, to act against 
 Eugene, who had just taken the command of the Grerman 
 forces at Peterwaradin. The Vizier Hali, commanding the 
 Ottoman troops, full of confidence in his own skill, and in 
 his immense superiority of numbers, advanced rapidly upon 
 Eugene, and crossed the Save, which formed the boundary 
 of the two countries, determined to crush his adversary by 
 one great battle. Eugene was as desirous of such an event 
 as the vizier, and therefore the troops were soon engaged, 
 almost under the walls of Peterwaradin. The Turks fought 
 bravely for many hours, and the battle was long undecided ;. 
 but, at length, Eugene's superior skill prevailed, and the 
 
PRINCE EUGENE OF SAYOT. 377 
 
 enemy fled in every direction. The grand vizier struggled, 
 to the last, with long and desperate bravery ; but after 
 having received two severe wounds, he was borne away by 
 the fugitives to Cariowitz, where he died the next day, 
 muttering to the last imprecations against the Christians. 
 
 The siege of the important town of Temeswar followed j 
 and, though the Turkish army was still far superior to that 
 of Prince Eugene, it made no effort of any consequence to 
 raise the siege. The garrison of the town, however, de- 
 fended themselves for some time with great gallantry. The 
 fortifications had been lately strengthened, the stores in- 
 creased, and the troops reinforced ; but the great extent of 
 suburbs rendered the town more difficult of defence than 
 it would otherwise have been. To protect the principal 
 suburb, a strong work, called the JBalanlca, had been erected, 
 and against this Eugene directed his chief operations-. 
 Notwithstanding every exertion, it was the end of Sep- 
 tember before an assault was practicable ; but then the 
 FalanJca was stormed, and, after an obstinate and bloody 
 fight of four hours, remained in the hands of the impe- 
 rialists. The fate of the city now appeared certain ; but 
 the heavy rains which then set in, inundating the camp of 
 Eugene, and spreading disease and destruction among his 
 troops, had nearly compelled him to raise the siege ; when, 
 on the 13th of October, the garrison demanded to capitu- 
 late. Eugene granted them honourable terms, and the city 
 was given up to the Austrians. 
 
 After the death of Hali from the wounds he had received 
 at Peterwaradin, the command of the Turkish army was 
 given to the pacha of Belgrade, one of the most skilful 
 officers in the Ottoman service. But Eugene was destined 
 to destroy the Turkish power in Hungary. The campaign 
 of the next year commenced with the siege of the often- 
 captured Belgrade ; and it was soon completely invested 
 and reduced to some distress. The Porte, however, was 
 not unmindful of its preservation ; and, in the beginning of 
 August, the pacha appeared on the mountains surround- 
 ing the town with an army of near 200,000 men. Thus 
 shut up, between a strong fortress and an immense army,, 
 with the dysentery in his camp, and forces enfeebled by 
 long and severe labours, Eugene* s situation was as difficult 
 as it is possible to conceive. Notwithstanding every dis- 
 
•378 PHOCE EUGE:ffE OF SAYOT. 
 
 advantage, his usual bold course of action was pursued in 
 the present instance, and met with that success which is 
 almost always sure to attend the combination of daring and 
 skill. After a short delay, to enable himself to employ all 
 his energies (having been himself greatly debilitated by the 
 camp-fever), he attacked the Turkish army in their intrench- 
 ment, and at the end of a very short but severe struggle, 
 succeeded in defeating a force more than three times the 
 number of his own. 
 
 Belgrade surrendered immediately; and the next year, 
 without any great military event, put an end to war. 
 
 After the conclusion of peace, Eugene, who had been 
 appointed governor of the Austrian JSTetherlands, resigned 
 that office, which he had never personally filled, and was 
 appointed vicar-general for the emperor in his Italian 
 dominions. 
 
 Por many years after this, Eugene spent his days in peace 
 and tranquillity, endeavouring to raise up a spirit of com- 
 merce among the Germans, and to improve the finances of 
 his sovereign, by whom he was appreciated and loved. His 
 greatest eflbrts were in favour of Trieste, which he changed 
 from a petty town to a great commercial city, and which 
 remains to the present day the best and the noblest fruit of 
 all his talents and all his exertions. 
 
 At first, everything promised that the old age of 
 Eugene would have passed in peace, . uninterrupted by any 
 warlike movements ; but he was once more called from his 
 calmer occupations, by the short war which broke out with 
 DFrance in 1733. 
 
 Perhaps, in point of military skill, the two campaio:n8 
 which followed were the most brilliant of Eugene's life; 
 but with only thirty thousand men, opposed to a force of 
 double that number, he could alone act upon the defensive. 
 
 He did so, however, with more success than the scanti- 
 ness of his resources promised. He prevented the Erench 
 from penetrating into Suabia ; and though Philipsburg was 
 taken notwithstanding all his efibrts, he contrived, by turn- 
 ing the course of the neighbouring rivers, to inundate the 
 country on the German side of that city, and to render its 
 possession unprofitable to Erance. 
 
 Peace soon succeeded, and with these two campaigns 
 '€nded Eugene's life as a commander. He lived for some 
 
PEINCE EITGENE OF SAVOY. 379 
 
 time after this, indeed, amusing himself with the embel- 
 lishments of his palace and gardens, and employing a great 
 many mechanics and labourers, during all seasons of dearth 
 or scarcity ; but the battle-field never saw him more. His 
 health gradually and slowly declined ; and, on the 21st of 
 April, 1736, in the seventy-fourth year of his age, he was 
 found dead in his bed, after having been slightly indisposed 
 the night before. 
 
 As a general he was skilful, enterprising, bold, but some- 
 what rash and full of confidence both in his own powers 
 and in his own good fortune. His mind was active, inde- 
 fatigable, lull of resources, and teeming with stratagems. 
 He was proud of his talents, but not vain ; and he had 
 no envious jealousy in his nature. He w^as sparing of all 
 praises where he was concerned himself; but liberal of com- 
 mendation to the merits of others. He was extremely 
 cautious in blaming any one ; but was bold, perhaps to 
 affectation, in examining his own faults, and criticising his 
 personal conduct. In comparing his own behaviour upon 
 any occasion with that of any other great man, it seemed 
 as if he looked upon the actions of others with the eye of a 
 partial friend, and regarded everything he did himself with 
 the calm scrutiny of an unbiassed censor. He was lively 
 and witty in conversation, and frank and generous in the 
 usual routine of life. He was also charitable, if he was 
 not profuse ; and might have been distinguished as humane, 
 if he had not permitted his soldiers to commit acts of 
 cruelty, that even the heat of battle and the exultation of 
 victory could neither justify nor palliate. 
 
380 
 
 EARL OF PETERBOROUGH. 
 
 Born about the year 1658 — ^Accompanies the expeditions against 
 Algiers and Tangiers — An opponent of the Stuarts — Instrumental 
 in bringing over William III. — First lord of the Treasury, with the 
 title of eail of Mordaunt — Dismissed from employment — Inherits 
 the earldom of Peterborough — Commands the expedition sent to 
 Spain — Siege of Barcelona — Drives the French across the Pyrenees 
 — Recalled from Spain — Receives the thanks of Parliament, and is 
 made Knight of the Garter — Ambassador to Sicily — Effects the fall of 
 Alberoni — Close of his public life — His character, death, letters, &c. 
 
 Chaeles Mordaunt was descended from a family equally 
 illustrious by actions and by station. His father, John 
 Mordaunt, the younger brother of Henry earl of Peter- 
 borough, having exhausted his fortune and employed his 
 best days in the service of Charles II., received from that 
 monarch the title of Lord Mordaunt of Eeigate in Surrey, 
 and Viscount Avalon in the county of Somerset — titles 
 which at that moment were empty honours indeed, as 
 Charles had not yet been restored to the throne of his 
 ancestors, and poverty and misfortune were the portion of 
 those peers who shared his exile. 
 
 Danger and distress, however, had not withheld a 
 daughter of the house of Monmouth from uniting her fate 
 to that of the proscribed follower of the banished king, and 
 the first fruit of the marriage of John Lord Mordaunt with 
 Elizabeth Carey was Charles, of whom we now speak. He 
 was born about the year 1658, though the precise date is 
 obscure ; and at the age of seventeen, succeeded his father 
 in the titles which King Charles had bestowed. About 
 that period the Mediterranean, which was infested with 
 pirates, became an object of attention to Great Britain ; 
 and a fleet being appointed against Algiers, a fashion grew 
 up amongst the idle nobility of the court of Charles 11. to 
 volunteer upon remote and dangerous expeditions. The 
 young Lord Mordaunt was amongst the first to follow a 
 custom well suited to his chivalrous and somewhat erratic 
 
EAEL OF PETEEBOEOUGH. S81 
 
 character ; and he according! j accompanied both the 
 armament destined for the attack of Algiers, and that 
 sent afterwards to the relief of Tangiers, which was 
 then a dependency of England and besieged by the 
 Moors. 
 
 On his return from these, services, where he gained the 
 first knowledge of war as a science, he took his seat in the 
 House of Peers ; and as but a small portion of his family's 
 attachment to the house of Stuart had descended to him- 
 self, he pursued, with the most determined vehemence, all 
 those measures which could thwart the court and exclude 
 the duke of York from the throne. "Witty in discourse, 
 but loose and vague in reasoning, perfectly fearless of all 
 consequences, and rapid but not always just in his conclu- 
 sions, he more frequently bore down argument than proved 
 himself right, oftener incensed his opponents than con- 
 vinced his hearers. 
 
 His political life, being little connected with his history 
 as a commander, I shall touch upon but slightly. How- 
 ever, it may be necessary to remark, that his antipathy to 
 the reigning family increased under James II., and that he 
 made himself particularly obnoxious to the government on 
 the introduction of the bill for the repeal of the Test Act. 
 He is presumed, also, to have been one of the first in the 
 secret machinations which were carried on for the purpose 
 of expelling James and calling the prince of Orange to the 
 throne, and his after-actions proved him to be at least one 
 of the most strenuous supporters of that measure. How he 
 had acquired fame as a commander, without having shown 
 any military talent, except as a boy in the expeditions I 
 have mentioned, is not at all clear ; but it seems certain that 
 the Dutch ofiered him, towards the year 1687, the command 
 of a fleet and army in the "West Indies. This he made an 
 €xcuse for demanding the king's permission to go over 
 to Holland ; and James, who appears to have been obsti- 
 nately blind to his approaching fate, granted his request. 
 The moment he arrived in Holland, he visited the prince of 
 Orange, and a conversation took place between them, the 
 precise tenor of which, it is probable, was never clearly 
 known. It appears, however, that then, for the first time, 
 Peterborough proposed boldly to the prince the scheme of 
 an invasion of England, which William received in such 
 
382 EAEL OP PETEEBOEOTTGH. 
 
 a manner as showed that the idea was already familiar with 
 his mind. 
 
 With his usual taciturn caution, the prince 'gave little en- 
 couragement to the proposal, but kept Lord Mordaunt about 
 his person ; and though he seemed to condemn the expedi- 
 tion which that nobleman had suggested as a romantic 
 dream, he continued to consult him on all occasions, while, 
 with a watchful eye upon England, he suifered James, by 
 acts of madness, to bring about the favourable moment for 
 that very undertaking, and made quiet, but complete prepa- 
 ration, to take advantage of opportunity. 
 
 The young peer continued to urge forward the willing 
 but deliberate t)utchman, till at length the repeated repre- 
 sentations of the English nobility, and the evident disaffec- 
 tion of the nation, showed "William that the time for action 
 was come. 
 
 Lord Mordaunt accompanied him to England, the nation 
 deserted the house of Stuart, and William was placed upon 
 the British throne. Eewards and honours of course fell to 
 the lot of those who had countenanced or who had prompted 
 his successful enterprise ; and on the 13th of Eebruary, 
 1689, amongst several other persons, two of the most extra- 
 ordinary men of that age were together sworn in privy 
 councillors and gentlemen of the bedchamber to the new 
 sovereign — the Lord Mordaunt, afterwards earl of Peter- 
 borough, and the Lord Churchill, afterwards duke of Marl- 
 borough. Both these noblemen had acted a conspicuous 
 part in the revolution, Mordaunt being one of the first, and 
 Churchill one of the last, who abandoned King James ; with 
 this difference, however, that the house of Stuart owed much 
 to the family of Peterborough, while Marlborough owed 
 everything to the house of Stuart. 
 
 Employments implying more substantial power and emo- 
 lument w^ere soon after bestowed upon Lord Mordaunt. On 
 the 8th of April, 1689, he was appointed first lord of the 
 Treasury, and on the 9th was created earl of Monmouth. 
 The regiment of horse raised by the city of London in 
 favour of the devolution was placed under his command ; 
 and nearly at the same time he was constituted lord- 
 lieutenant of Northampton. This favourable position of his 
 affairs did not cbntinue long. Burnet accuses him of favour- 
 ing the Nonjurors and the partisans of King James, even 
 
EAEL or PETEEBOEOITGH. 383^ 
 
 while m office under King William ; and either from some 
 suspicion of his conduct, or perhaps from a desire to soothe 
 the refractory spirit of his new Parliament, the king soon- 
 dismissed Peterborough from the Treasury, without any 
 apparent cause. The earl does not seem to have regarded 
 the loss of office as any great privation, and found plenty 
 of occupation for his time in elegant and classical pursuits. 
 
 In regard to the period of his quitting his public situa- 
 tion I am not fully informed. One authority before me 
 says he was removed from the Treasury in 1690 ; another 
 represents him as retaining it till 1694 ; but it is certain 
 that in 1692 he accompanied William through a campaign 
 in the Low Countries, an employment not very compatible 
 with the duties of a commissioner of the Treasury. 
 
 The leisure which now fell upon him was unhappily too 
 much devoted to the pleasures of the senses ; and though 
 he strove to adorn immorality with taste and refinement,, 
 and to enlighten the darkness of infidelity by the flashes of 
 wit, there is nothing in the years which, at this time, he 
 spent in privacy, that the eye can regard with pleasure 
 or the mind contemplate with approbation. 
 
 The society of men of genius, which he greatly affected, 
 did not teach him to govern his passions or restrain his 
 inclinations ; and though he himself declared that a visit 
 which about this time he paid to Penelon had almost per- 
 suaded him to be a Christian, yet he resisted an example of 
 religious virtue which might have converted the vainest of 
 unbelievers. 
 
 In the year 1697, the death of his uncle Henry earl of 
 Peterborough without heirs brought him a considerable 
 accession of property, and the title by which he is chiefly 
 known in history. 
 
 Passing without further detail over the intervening years 
 between his dismissal from office under King William and 
 the accession of Queen Anne, we find him suddenly in- 
 vested with the title of governor of Jamaica, and com- 
 mander-in-chief both of the fleet and army on that station. 
 What motives brought about this extraordinary appoint- 
 ment of a man who had no military experience to a situa- 
 tion of high military responsibility, are not now to be 
 discovered. His advancement in the army has generally 
 been attributed to the penetration of the great duke of 
 
884f EAEL or PETEBBOROUGH. 
 
 Marlborough; whicli may indeed have been the case, although 
 Marlborough afterwards looked upon him with the eye of a 
 rival, and though Peterborough not only blamed the con- 
 duct of his great competitor, but endeavoured to thwart his 
 plans, and often satirized his person. 
 
 Whether he ever really exercised the office to which 
 he had been appointed in the "West Indies I do not know, 
 but in March, 1705, he was named commander-in-chief of 
 the army destined to support the house of Austria in their 
 claim to the throne of Spain; and, conjointly with Sir 
 Cloudesley Shovel, admiral of the fleet about to sail for the 
 <joast of Spain. 
 
 It would occupy too much space here to notice all the 
 particulars which gave rise to the War of Succession in 
 Spain ; but a brief explanation may be in some degree 
 necessary to the elucidation of the events which follow. 
 On the marriage of Louis XIY. to the sister of Charles II., 
 king of Spain, Maria Theresa had renounced her claims 
 to the succession ; but these claims were soon revived, and 
 continually kept up, although the house of Austria had 
 at least an equal title to the territories which the deceased 
 and childless Charles II. was about to leave as matters 
 of contest amongst the powers of Europe. To calm those 
 states who had no claim upon the Spanish monarchy, but 
 were not indifferent to the great accession of power which 
 its possession would bestow upon one or other of the 
 competitors, Louis XIY. proposed the famous partition 
 treaty, by which the dominions of the hourly dying sove- 
 reign should be divided between the Dauphin his son, and 
 the Archduke Charles, in whose favour the emperor and 
 the king of the Eomans had renounced their pretensions. 
 To this treaty for dividing dominions not yet vacant, Eng- 
 land and Holland consented; but Austria hesitated, and 
 the king of Spain was offended. The field, however, being 
 open to the diplomacy of Louis' court, and shut against 
 the house of Austria, he succeeded in persuading Charles II., 
 by a series of the most unjustifiable intrigues, to appoint by 
 will his second grandson, Philip duke of Anjou, the successor 
 to the whole Spanish monarchy. The agitations and terrors 
 to which the weak monarch had been subjected for the 
 purpose of forcing him to this disposition, hurried on his 
 ^nds and Philip was immediately declared king of Spain. 
 
EABL OF PETEEBOEOrOH. 385 
 
 England and Holland, neither of which were in a situa- 
 tion to desire war, assented to his nomination, notwith- 
 standing the scandalous violation of all good faith which the 
 whole intrigue made manifest. But Austria remonstrated 
 with arms, and poured her troops into Italy, to save at least 
 a part of the inheritance which had so long descended in her 
 royal house. In Spain, Philip was received without opposi- 
 tion ; but the Austrian party, though lield down, were not 
 extinct. The indolence of the young king, and the oppres- 
 sion of his ministers, soon gave cause for hatred and en- 
 couragement to revolt ; and the grasping policy of Louis 
 XIV., who strove to dismember even the dominions of his 
 grandson of the finest portion of the Netherlands, excited 
 the irritable jealousy of the Spaniards, and taught them to 
 turn their eyes once more to the Austrian family. 
 
 This design of the Prench monarch, to make himself 
 master of Spanish Planders, together with the obvious 
 tendency of his government to unite the crown of Spain to 
 that of France, in case of failure of heirs on either part, and 
 the struggle to raise his own commerce at the expense both 
 of Holland and England, at length roused the two great 
 maritime powers of that day to resist his system of aggran- 
 dizement. The victories of Marlborough are spoken of 
 elsewhere in this book, and it is only necessary to observe, 
 that they acted as the most powerful diversion in favour of 
 the house of Austria. But other efforts were, at the same 
 time, directed by England and Holland against Spain itself, 
 at the suggestion, it is said, of the prince of Darmstadt, a 
 bold, but vain and arrogant officer, whose strongest recom- 
 mendation was his activity, his courage, and his attachment 
 to the imperial family. 
 
 The first expedition despatched by the allies was equipped 
 for the purpose of surprising Cadiz ; but on that point it 
 failed in the most disgraceful manner, serving only to irri- 
 tate the minds of the Spaniards by the lawless rapacity 
 which the commanders permitted their soldiers to exercise. 
 
 At Vigo, however, the Erench and Spanish fleets were 
 attacked ; and the revenues of the new world, inscead of 
 recruiting the finances of Philip, went to swell the purses, 
 or supply the extravagance, of the Dutch and English sailors. 
 
 ]N^otwithstanding the failure of the attempt upon Cadiz^ 
 2 c 
 
386 EARL or PETEEBOROUGH. 
 
 the defection of some of the first and most powerful Spanish 
 nobles, "who fled from the court of Philip to Lisbon, soon 
 raised the hopes of the confederates in regard to a new 
 attack upon Spain. The Archduke Charles was placed on 
 board the fleet of Sir George Eooke ; and, accompanied by 
 fourteen thousand English and Dutch troops, landed at 
 Lisbon, where he was received with joy and magnificence. 
 Portugal immediately declared war against Philip of Spain. 
 Charles by proclamation asserted his right to the whole of 
 the dominions of Charles II., and the united armies pre- 
 pared to take the field. Notwithstanding the great expecta- 
 tions excited, little was efiected on the side of Estramadura ; 
 and the prince of Darmstadt, who under the late monarch 
 had for some time governed Catalonia, persuaded the arch- 
 duke that the whole of that province was prepared imme- 
 diately to rise in his favour, if he would but show himself 
 on its shore. 
 
 Charles accordingly landed near Barcelona with three 
 thousand men ; but finding himself boldly opposed by the 
 viceroy, and unsupported by the people, again embarked, 
 without success. Gibraltar compensated for this disappoint- 
 ment. A few English sailors, by that mixture of boldness 
 and activity which has always characterized our navy, made 
 themselves masters of a fortress reckoned impregnable, and 
 the prince of Darmstadt was left to hold it in the name of 
 the queen of England. 
 
 The difficulties of the French party in Spain increased 
 with every hour. Paction ruled the court and divided the 
 country; and, while a thousand defeats and misfortunes 
 withheld Louis from giving that active aid to his grandson 
 which both interest and afiection prompted, Philip found 
 himself without finances or forces, in the midst of a land 
 torn with parties, and menaced with invasion. The attempt 
 to recover Gibraltar failed completely, and the defence of 
 the Estramaduran frontier was weak and imperfect. 
 
 At this period the earl of Peterborough set out upon the 
 expedition before named, the third which had left the shores 
 of England to place Charles upon the throne of Spain. It 
 was not a little extraordinary to see a man who had very 
 little title to either military or naval command, entrusted 
 with supreme power over the army and divided power in 
 the fleet ; and well, indeed, might Dean Swift say, in one of 
 
EATIL OF PETEREOEOlJGn. 387 
 
 liis letters to that nobleman, " I have often admired at the 
 capriciousness of Fortune in regard to your lordship. She 
 hath forced courts to act against their oldest and most 
 constant maxims : — to make you a general because you had 
 courage and conduct; an ambassador, because you had 
 wisdom and knowledge of the interests of Europe ; and an 
 admiral, on account of your skill in maritime affairs ;'* and 
 all this — he might have added — without any previous proof 
 that you were competent to any one of those stations. 
 
 The military force under the command of Peterborough 
 amounted to fifteen thousand men ; and it was intended 
 that, landing a part of his force at Lisbon, he should proceed 
 with the archduke and six thousand soldiers to Italy, and 
 form a junction with Victor Amadeus, duke of Savoy. 
 These instructions, however, were not exactly followed, 
 though, after visiting Lisbon, he proceeded by the Straits 
 of Gibraltar towards Italy. His force wus joined in its 
 passage by the prince of Darmstadt, who, though only acting 
 as a volunteer, soon introduced dissensions into the councils 
 of the army, and persuaded the archduke, notwithstanding 
 Peterborough's desire to proceed, to attempt once more a 
 landing on the eastern coast of Spain. Peterborough 
 accordingly ran into the bay of Altea, in Valencia, where he 
 immediately published a manifesto, setting forth the rights 
 of the archduke to the throne of Spain ; and declaring his 
 •only purpose to be, that of freeing the Spaniards from a 
 burthensome yoke. 
 
 Such are almost universally the pretences of invasion, but 
 such pretences also are generally more or less successful. 
 In the province of Valencia, the sway of the Eourbons had 
 somewhat galled the people, and an immediate rising took 
 place in favour of the house of Austria. The same spirit 
 spread to the other side of the cape at the base of which 
 Altea is situated ; and Denia, a town of more importance, 
 was surrendered to the English troops. Here the archduke 
 was proclaimed king of Spain, by the title of Charles III., 
 and, leaving the government of Denia in the hands of 
 General Eomero, Peterborough and his companions sailed 
 on for Barcelona, where they landed in August, 1705. 
 
 The troops were disembarked to the eastward of the city, 
 and the siege immediately begun ; but the enemy's full pre- 
 "^ 2 c 2 
 
3K8 EAEL OF PETEEBOEOTTGH. 
 
 paration for defence, the number of troops in the garrison,, 
 the firmness and gallantry of the viceroy, and the want of 
 zeal which the Spaniards of Catalonia displayed in regard- 
 to the house of Austria, left no reason to hope that the city 
 would be soon reduced. 
 
 Besides the regular fortification of the town, the only 
 weak point was guarded by a citadel called Montjuich, the 
 natural position of which, with its scientific defences, ren- 
 dered it apparently impregnable. This fortress was also 
 furnished with a strong garrison, and the viceroy, Yelasco, 
 with the famous duke del Popoli, had taken every precaution 
 to secure its defence. 
 
 It is be>'pnd a doubt, that the people of Barcelona, and 
 the neighbouring country, were indeed attached to Austria, 
 as the prince of Darmstadt had stated ; but the influence of 
 the viceroy, and the strength of the garrison, overawed 
 every disposition to revolt ; and during the three first weeks 
 after the landing of the expedition Charles saw his standard 
 only joined by fifteen hundred Miquelets, or irregular 
 partisans from the mountains. 
 
 In the mean time the dissensions grew every day higher 
 and higher in the allied camp. Peterborough continued to 
 represent to the archduke that he Avas consuming time, 
 wasting his forces, and hazarding his Italian dominions, on 
 a project which ofiered no probability of success ; that 
 nothing but some of those unforeseen and fortunate occur- 
 rences, on which no general ought to reckon, could render 
 their efforts triumphant ; and that in the mean while Victor 
 Amadous, disappointed of the succour he expected, might 
 either be overwhelmed by the Prench, or induced once more 
 to change his party and go over to the enemy. At the 
 same time, the commandant of the Dutch troops declared 
 that the attempt they were pursuing was madness, and that 
 he would stay no longer at any one's command. J^^everthe- 
 less, the prince of Darmstadt still urged the archduke to 
 wait for the rising of the peasantry in his favour, and 
 Charles willingly lingered in a country which he considered 
 his own. 
 
 Such were the disputes which agitated the councils of the 
 allies, and so far were they carried, that Peterborough and 
 the prince of Darmstadt were hardly seen to speak. At 
 length, wearied of resistance and remonstrance, the earl 
 
EAllL OF PETEEBOROrGH. 889 
 
 applied the whole energies of his mind to win success for 
 their attempt, rather than urge his companions any further 
 to desist ; and one of those bold schemes suggested itself 
 to his mind which sometimes occur to fools, but never suc- 
 ceed but with men of genius. His plan was to surprise the 
 ^citadel itself, the chief defence of the town ; and he carried 
 on his preparations for that purpose with as much caution 
 as he evinced daring in the design. His intention was com- 
 municated to nobody. He suffered Charles and his advisers 
 to convince themselves of the inutility of further efforts ; he 
 permitted the day to be fixed for re-embarkation ; the news 
 of their failure to spread through the country ; and the bat- 
 tering-train, with greater part of the camp equipage, to be 
 placed on board the fleet. The viceroy and general con- 
 gratulated themselves on the approaching departure of the 
 ^enemy ; the people of Barcelona, who had begun to feel the 
 evils of a siege, gave themselves up to rejoicing ; and the 
 garrison of the citadel yielded themselves to security and 
 repose. 
 
 On the very night which preceded the day appointed for 
 ^embarkation, Peterborough, having placed a body of one 
 thousand men in a convent between the citadel and the 
 town, led a detachment somewhat larger under the heights 
 >on which the fortress was situated ; and passing by the 
 quarters of the prince of Darmstadt, informed him of his 
 design, and demanded his co-operation. All enmity was 
 instantly forgotten ; and, passing on together, they came, 
 by a path through the hills, within gun»shot of the fortress 
 before daybreak. Dividing his forces into two parties, 
 Peterborough waited the approach of light ; and then im- 
 mediately led one division against a bastion which overlooked 
 the town. The other party was directed to attack a demi- 
 bastion to the west ; and both assaults were made at once. 
 Although the enemy soon became aware of the presence of 
 .a hostile force, and poured a sharp fire over the glacis as 
 Peterborough advanced, the numbers they could instantly 
 •oppose were not sufficient to resist the sudden attack of the 
 English. The glacis was passed, the covered way taken, 
 ^nd a lodgment effected on the bastion itself before half the 
 garrison were informed of the assault, while at the same 
 time the demi-bastion, on the other side, was captured in a 
 foment. 
 
890 EAEL OF PETEREOEOUGn. 
 
 The firing, liowever, had attracted the attention of Bar- 
 celona, and a reinforcement was sent up, a part of which, 
 hurrying forward, made their way into the citadel. The 
 garrison welcomed their coming with a loud shout ; and the 
 prince of Darmstadt, mistaking this acclamation, it would 
 appear, for an offer of surrender, advanced beyond the 
 stones with which the English had fortified themselves on 
 the bastion, and hurried forward, with three hundred men^ 
 into a dry ditch between the outer and inner works. A 
 tremendous fire was instantly opened upon him by the 
 besieged, and he himself was amongst the first that fell,, 
 while two hundred of those who followed w^ere taken pri- 
 soners, and many more were killed and wounded. Presh 
 succour now hurried up from the town, and so great was. 
 the panic which for a moment seized the handful of assail- 
 ants, that Peterborough, on returning from reconnoitring the 
 advance of the enemy's reinforcements, found his troops in 
 actual flight. His presence soon restored confidence and 
 order. The Spaniards were met as they marched up by 
 some of the English prisoners, from whom they learned that 
 both the prince of Darmstadt and the commander-in-chief 
 of the British forces were present at the assault. It is pro- 
 bable, also, that the prisoners somewhat magnified the force^ 
 of the assailants ; but at all events the commander of the 
 detachment, never dreaming that so bold an undertaking, 
 would be attempted with so small a force, became alarmed 
 lest his retreat should be cut off by the advance of the whole- 
 allied forces, lost heart, and returned to Barcelona. 
 
 While this was taking place, the thousand men who had 
 been left in the convent were ordered up to support the 
 first assailants. The advantages already gained were made 
 good and fortified. A part of the artillery, relanded from 
 the fleet, was brought up to the bastion, and several shells- 
 being thrown into the inner works, a powder-magazine was 
 blown up, which killed the governor, and completed the 
 consternation of the garrison. The Spanish partisans, wha 
 had now joined the body of assailants, rushed in, in the 
 midst of the confusion ; the allies followed with less ardour 
 but more regularity, and the defenders of Montjuich were- 
 forced to surrender at discretion. 
 
 A first success had been all which was wanting to the 
 cause of Charles in the hearts of the Catalonians. That 
 
EAEL or PETEEBOEOTTGH. 391 
 
 first success was as brilliant as it well could be, in the 
 capture of a fortress deemed impregnable, and an immense 
 accession of strength immediately accrued to his party, 
 fourteen thousand men are said to have joined the army 
 within, a few days of the taking of Montjuich, and a spirit 
 of revolt against the Bourbon dynasty spread far and wide . 
 through the neighbouring country. But Barcelona still 
 held out ; and the courage and loyalty of the governor 
 would have protracted the siege for many weeks, had not 
 the discouragement of the soldiery and the murmurs and 
 tumults of the people forced him to a capitulation. The 
 terms which were granted to him were such as his gallantry 
 deserved, and the garrison were suifered to march out with 
 the honours of war ; but the angry feelings of the people 
 towards the French government were so strongly displayed 
 on the surrender of the city, that it required every exertion 
 of the English general to insure the viceroy's safety. 
 
 Although the garrison were permitted to depart in 
 peace, yet a great proportion of the soldiers of which it had 
 consisted abandoned their colours and came over to the 
 Austrian party. JS'ot twelve hundred men accompanied the 
 viceroy to Eoses, and a universal rising against Philip, 
 through the whole of Catalonia, evinced the popularity of 
 his rival and the errors of his own government. On the 
 25th of October, 1705, Charles entered in triumph the 
 streets of Barcelona, and the populace, who had submitted 
 to the French in silence, now welcomed the return of a 
 family which had so long ruled them, with loud and conti- 
 nued acclamations. 
 
 Peterborough immediately applied himself to gather as 
 rapidly as possible the fruits of his success, lest any other 
 competitor should step in to dispute the harvest. With 
 astonishing facility for one so little acquainted with military 
 details, he embodied and organized all the Spanish volun- 
 teers ; and while he himself with his chief force moved 
 about as necessity required to garrison the towns taken and 
 to secure possession of all that had been acquired, he 
 directed various corps of partisans to spread themselves 
 over the neighbouring country, diffusing the spirit of revolt 
 against Prance, and gaining city after city with scarcely 
 any effusion of blood. 
 
 'After the fall of Barcelona a day seldom passed without 
 
892 EAEL OE PETERBOROUGn. 
 
 the capture or voluntary surrender of some town; and the 
 whole of Catalonia, except Koses, and the whole of Murcia 
 and Valencia, except Peniscola and Alicante, submitted 
 to Charles III. before the winter of 1705-6 had come to a 
 conclusion. 
 
 In the mean time the successes of the Austrian party in 
 Catalonia, the failing power of Trance in Europe, and the 
 victories of the allies of the imperial family in Elanders 
 and in Germany, struck terror into the Bourbon councils 
 at Madrid ; while the spirit of disaffection, encouraged by 
 the prospect of support, if it did not yet venture to show 
 itself in absolute revolt, took the less tangible, but more 
 eifectual, shape of continual opposition to the French govern- 
 ment, which in public was delayed by discussion, and in 
 private thwarted by intrigue. 
 
 Finding no affection amongst the Spanish nobles and 
 nothing but murmurs, turbulence, and discontent through- 
 out the nation, Philip each day threw himself more and 
 more into the arms of France. At the same time, how- 
 ever, he determined boldly to meet the greatest danger at 
 once ; and with what troops he could collect to march into 
 Catalonia, and to oppose his rival on the threshold of the 
 realm. Overruling the timid councils of Marshal Tesse, 
 who would have proceeded step by step from fortress to 
 fortress, Philip advanced at once with the twenty thousand 
 men he commanded to Barcelona itself; while the duke de 
 ISToailles, with a large reinforcement from France, passed 
 the Pyrenees and joined him under the walls of the city. 
 To oppose this force not three thousand regular troops could 
 be mustered in Barcelona ; and Peterborough, who kept the 
 field to annoy the enemy in their approach, commanded a 
 still more insignificant force. Charles III. himself with 
 gallant determination refused to abandon the city, and ' 
 declared that he would stand and fall with his brave Cata- 
 lonians. Such conduct won the whole enthusiasm of the 
 people to his side ; and, working also on their superstitious 
 feelings, he declared that the Holy Virgin had appeared to 
 him and promised success. These means of excitement had 
 all the influence he could desire ; and the approach of the 
 French was welcomed by the Barcelonese rather as an 
 opportunity of proving their zeal and devotion than as a 
 matter of terror and danger. 
 
EARL OF PETERBOROTJGH. 395 
 
 At the same time Peterborough, by his activity and his 
 •exertions, his fertility of resource, and indefatigable perse- 
 verance, supplied the want of numbers, laid the country 
 waste before the ^French army, harrassed it by continual 
 attacks, cut off every party detached in search of provisions, 
 and, even after the siege was formed, left the camp not a 
 moment's repose niglit or day. While he thus delayed the 
 progress of the enemy in Spain, he entreated, he conjured 
 the English government to send early and efficient succour 
 to the place ; and, though he well knew that so small a gar- 
 rison could hold out but a short time against a large besieging 
 force, he took every means to keep up the spirits of the in- 
 habitants, by throwing in continual supplies by sea from the 
 neighbouring coast, w^hich he continued to effect, notwith- 
 standing the efforts of the French fleet, which blockaded the 
 port. Still the enemy made terrible progress ; and the 
 fatigues and privations of the allied forces diminished their 
 number and cramped their energies. The whole strength of 
 the French army was in the first place turned against the 
 citadel, which underwent a severe cannonade during three- 
 and-twenty days ; at the end of which time, the commander 
 being killed, the garrison retreated to the town, and the fall 
 of Barcelona seemed assured. 
 
 Still the manoeuvres of Peterborough and the cautious 
 prudence of Tesse delayed the progress of the French arms ; 
 and at the very moment that a general assault was about to 
 be made upon the half-ruined fortifications by the French 
 army, the reinforcements from England andHolland appeared 
 ofi" the port. The French fleet bore away from that of the 
 allies ; and a sufficient body of troops was thrown into the 
 town to secure it for some time to come. Nevertheless, the 
 forces of Philip were still superior to those of his rival ; and 
 his opinion was decidedly in favour of continuing the siege ; 
 but Marshal Tesse, intimidated by obstacles which he had 
 not expected, abandoned the design in despair, and, in spite 
 of the remonstrance of the young monarch, drew off his 
 forces before daylight on the morning of the 12th of May, 
 N.S. — a morning which witnessed in Flanders the victorious 
 efforts of Marlborough at the famous battle of Eamilies On 
 that eventful day a total eclipse of the sun occurred, which, 
 however well understood to be but a natural event, did not 
 fail to give a vague and superstitious feeling of joy to tha 
 
394 i:abl of peteeborough. 
 
 adherents of Austria, as the sun, now totally darkened, wa& 
 the favourite device of the house of Bourbon. In truth, had 
 the conduct of Philip's armies been always entrusted to such 
 feeble minds as that of Tesse, the sun of Bourbon would 
 have been obscared indeed in Spain. 
 
 The retreat of the French army was far more disastrous, 
 than the loss of a battle could have been. Cut off from 
 communicating with the central provinces of Spain, the 
 French general retreated towards Eoussillon with a rapidity 
 almost approaching to flight. The populace of the country 
 through which he passed, being universally inimical to the 
 French, hovered in large parties of guerillas round them on 
 their march, swept the country of provisions, and suffered no 
 detached party to escape ; while Peterborough hung upon 
 their rear, and, notwithstanding the handful of men which 
 he commanded, harrassed the enemy with repeated and suc- 
 cessful attacks. The boldness of his measures, the sagacity 
 with which they were conceived, and the celerity and vigour 
 with which they were executed, left the French not a 
 moment's pause to rally from their confusion, or to re- 
 collect their energies. JSTor did he himself halt till, with 
 extraordinary skill and daring, he had driven across the 
 Pyrennees an army of twenty-five thousand men; while he 
 himself never united under his command a force of more 
 than ten thousand. 
 
 ^Notwithstanding all his reverses, King Philip took the 
 bold resolution of immediately returning to Madrid, in 
 opposition to the opinion of all by whom he was surrounded. 
 The confidence, however, which this action showed in his- 
 Castilian subjects produced a great reaction in his favour ; 
 and even those who had opposed his government were 
 ashamed to take arms against a monarch who so deeply 
 trusted them. The earl of G-alway and the marquis de las 
 Minas, with a large body of troops, advanced from Portugal, 
 proclaiming King Charles III., and driving before them the 
 duke of Berwick and his very inefficient forces. The earl 
 had been led to expect that all Spain would rise in favour of 
 the house of Austria ; but as they entered Castile, and 
 approached the capital, no acclamations greeted their 
 approach, and the proclamation of Charles was received at 
 best with cold indiiference. Philip, unable to defend his 
 metropolis, retreated to Burgos ; but he was accompanied 
 
EARL OF PETErtBOEOIJGH. 895 
 
 by all the nobility of Castile, and was evidently supported 
 by the wishes, though not by the energies, of that kingdom. 
 The duke of Berwick, in the mean time, made immense 
 exertions to remedy the disasters of the last campaign ; and, 
 fortunate circumstances enabling Louis to send reinforce- 
 ments to his grandson, those exertions were crowned with 
 success. The efforts of Peterborough to penetrate from 
 Valencia to Madrid were rendered ineffectual by the dis- 
 union which prevailed in the councils of the archduke ; and, 
 shortly after the battle of Almanza was fought, the earl of 
 Galway and the marquis de las Minas were defeated ; and 
 Valencia, Murcia, and Arragon were recovered by the 
 Trench in a wonderfully short space of time. One of the 
 greatest misfortunes, however, which befell the cause of the 
 Austrian prince, originated in'^some differences which arose 
 between him and the earl of Peterborough. In 1707 that 
 nobleman was recalled from Spain ; and though there appears 
 to be little doubt that the immediate cause of that proceed- 
 ing was some private representation of Charles III., as much 
 mystery envelopes the details of his dismissal from the com- 
 mand of the allied forces as exists in regard to his appointment 
 to that office. 
 
 Peterborough now returned from the activity and bustle 
 of the camp to the more irritating and painful struggle of 
 political intrigue. A strong party was rising up in England 
 against the duke of Marlborough ; and every effort was 
 made by his opponents to remove the principal scene of 
 war from the Netherlands to Spain, probably more with the 
 idea of putting an end to the successes of the duke, than 
 with any desire to facilitate the progress of Charles III. 
 To the views of this party Peterborough lent himself, 
 although it is beyond doubt that his motives were of a 
 purer character, and that the real honour of his country, by 
 the fulfilment of her promises to Austria, was the sole object 
 that he had in view. Nevertheless it was evident that the 
 two great generals were now rivals, and that the schemes of 
 the one were made the means of attack upon the other. 
 Marlborough's influence was still so great at the court, 
 and the prejudice excited in the mind of Queen xinne 
 against Lord Peterborough appears to have been so strong, 
 that on his return he was not admitted to the royal 
 presence. 
 
^96 EABL OF PETEEBOROUaH. 
 
 At length, on tlie 19th of December, the affairs of Spain 
 were brought before the House of Peers, and the two great 
 parties tried their strength against each other in a long and 
 somewhat stormy debate. The queen herself was present 
 upon the occasion, under an affectation of incognito ; and 
 the debate was opened by the earl of Rochester, with a 
 warm panegyric upon the conduct of Lord Peterborough, 
 und a detail of the eminent services he had rendered in 
 Spain. He then proceeded to remark that it was customary, 
 on the return of an officer intrusted with such high and im- 
 portant commands as those which the earl of Peterborough 
 had exercised, either to offer him the thanks of the house 
 for his services, or to call him to account for his miscon- 
 duct ; and he therefore proposed, as the great actions of the 
 earl in Spain were well-known and admitted, that the house 
 should express its sense of his conduct. 
 
 This proposal was combated by the famous earl of Hali- 
 fax, who, without impugning the character of Peterborough, 
 declared that the thanks of the house could not be properly 
 voted till the whole tenor of the earl's behaviour in his 
 >command had been examined. To this investigation Peter- 
 borough declared himself perfectly willing to submit ; but 
 urged strongly the necessity of carrying on the war in 
 Spain till Charles III. should be fully and securely seated 
 on the throne of that country. The enthusiasm and fire 
 with which he pressed forward on all occasions towards his 
 object was never more strikingly displayed than in that 
 -debate. He declared that sooner than consent to peace on 
 any other terms than the full recognition of the archduke 
 as king of Spain, the English Parliament should vote the 
 queen nineteen shillings in the pound to carry on the war ; 
 and he ended by declaring that, if necessary, he was willing 
 immediately to return to Spain, and, yielding his chief com- 
 mand, to serve under the earl of G-alway. 
 
 The debate now turned towards the means of effectually 
 aiding the archduke in recovering his dominions ; and Lord 
 Rochester moved that the war in Flanders should be for the 
 time restrained to defensive operations ; and that twentj 
 •thousand men should be drawn from that country to carr^ 
 on the operations begun in Catalonia. This was seconded 
 by the earl of Nottingham, and immediately called up the 
 duke of Marlborough to oppose it. All his designs were 
 
EARL OF PETERBOEOrGH. 397 
 
 BOW rnenaced with utter subversion, and it cannot be matter 
 for surprise that he felt strongly upon the occasion ; but 
 Marlborough did more, he forgot his usual prudence and 
 moderation, became violent and angry, and exposed himself 
 to a sharp reproof from Lord Rochester for his intemper- 
 ance. His influence, nevertheless, was still so strong that 
 the proposal was not entertained ; and Lord Peterborough 
 was threatened with all the tedious infliction of a parlia- 
 mentary investigation of his conduct. 
 
 This was suspended after some preliminaries had been 
 entered into, and was only adverted to afterwards, when, a 
 change of ministry having taken place, the enmity of party 
 faction turned against the earl of Gralway. On this occasion 
 which occurred in 1711, the duke of Marlborough strongly 
 defended that unfortunate general ; but the discussion soon 
 drew on an investigation in regard to the advice he had 
 himself given for carrying on an offensive war in Spain, 
 contrary to that of Lord Peterborough ; which inquiry 
 ended in a vote of censure being passed upon him and 
 several other members of the former ministry for their con- 
 duct upon that occasion. About the same time the earl of 
 Peterborough received the thanks of the House of Peers for 
 his signal services in Spain — thanks which undoubtedly h& 
 deserved, but which were valueless as the fruit of party 
 faction ; which would have been highly gratifying had they 
 been voted three years before, as a tribute of national grati- 
 tude for a national benefit, but which were poor indeed^ 
 adulterated by party virulence and the mortification of a 
 great and fallen rival. 
 
 Whether Peterborough regarded them in this light or 
 not, I cannot tell ; but at all events the vote cleared his 
 reputation in the most complete manner from any charga 
 in respect to his conduct while leading the British forces in 
 Spain. It declared, I find, " that his lordship, during the 
 time he commanded the army in that kingdom, had per- 
 formed many great and eminent services ; and that if the 
 opinion which he had given to the council of war at Valencia 
 had been followed, it might very probably have prevented 
 the misfortunes that had since happened in Spain." 
 
 Certain it is that, from the time of Peterborough's de- 
 parture from the Peninsula, the affairs of Charles III. 
 languished, and a long train of disasters and defeats reduced 
 
398 EAEL OF PETERBOKOrGH. 
 
 liis power to a very low ebb. Peterborough was now 
 restored to high favour, and his talents were employed in 
 various ways, but he never returned to the command which 
 he had formerly enjoyed. Though still holding military 
 rank, he was now chiefly occupied in diplomacy, and showed 
 himself as active and skilful a tactician in the cabinet as in 
 the field. His first embassy was to the court of Vienna, in 
 1710, and then to Turin and several other Italian courts. 
 "With his negotiations, however, we have less to do here, than 
 with his military actions ; and, indeed, the very character 
 of such transactions involves them in so much obscurity, 
 that much difficulty and little pleasure occurs in the endeavour 
 to trace them through their narrow and tortuous course. 
 
 After having conducted several embassies with complete 
 success, he returned to England, and was appointed colonel 
 of the royal regiment of horse guards, and general of ma- 
 rines ; and on the 4th of August, 1713, was installed, at 
 Windsor, as knight of the garter. 
 
 He did not remain long in England, but was soon des- 
 patched as ambassador extraordinary to the king of Sicily, 
 and appears at the same time to have been charged with 
 ■various other negotiations with the Italian princes through 
 whose states he passed. Shortly after (in 1714), as if it 
 were determined that his appointments should never have 
 any reference to his former services, he was named governor 
 of Minorca. How long he held this appointment I do not 
 know ; but probably only for a short time, for in 1719 he 
 is found travelling on the continent, mingling gratuitously 
 in diplomatic affairs, and aiding to bring about one of the 
 greatest and most beneficial events which had occurred in 
 Europe for some time. Although scarcely connected with 
 his life as a great commander, this transaction must not be 
 passed over, even in this very brief and imperfect sketch of 
 the life of Peterborough. 
 
 A needy Italian adventurer, of the name of Alberoni, had 
 raised himself by bold speculations and cunning intrigue, to 
 the highest ranks of the church and state. Erom the petty 
 station of a poor priest, the son of a gardener of Placentia, 
 he had obtained the crimson, and the office of prime minister 
 at the court of Madrid ; his cunning governed a king and a 
 kingdom, and his policy convulsed a world. During his 
 administration of the affairs of Spain, his mind, continually . 
 
EAEL OF PETERBOROUGH. 399 
 
 occupied witli vast and extraordinary schemes, far beyond 
 the power of the country he governed to effect, kept Europe 
 in continual agitation and alarm, without producing any- 
 thing but defeat and disgrace to the Spanish monarch. 
 His influence with Philip Y. and his second queen, a niece 
 of the duke of Parma, was unbounded ; and, from a convic- 
 tion that his removal was absolutely necessary to the tran- 
 quillity of Europe, England and Prance united together to 
 work his fall. The duke of Orleans, at that time regent of 
 Prance, one of the most extraordinary men of the day, 
 from the combination of talents and vices which his 
 character displayed, was entrusted with the execution 
 of the design; and it was determined that peace should 
 only be granted to Spain on the condition of the total 
 banishment of Alberoni from that country. 
 
 The first means taken were to induce the confessor of 
 the Spanish monarch to join in working the disgrace of the 
 minister, which was effected without difficulty ; and the 
 king's partiality, which had been shaken by the failure of 
 all Alberoni' s vast plans, and the ruinous effects of his 
 counsels, was now totally alienated by the insinuations 
 of Aubenton. Still the strongest prop to the cardinal's 
 power remained^ as long as he retained his influence over 
 the queen, for the personal inclinations of Philip were bent 
 to those of his wife. This princess owed her elevation from 
 a petty Italian sovereignty to the throne of Spain in a great 
 degree to Alberoni, and notwithstanding the ill-success 
 which had attended his vast efforts, and the misfortunes he 
 had brought upon Spain, she continued to regard him with 
 gratitude and esteem. It became necessary, therefore, 
 to the views of England and Prance, that the queen should 
 be convinced that the safety of her husband's dominions 
 depended upon the removal of Alberoni, which could only 
 be done through the medium of her uncle the duke of 
 Parma. The least rumour of the negotiation would have 
 completely prevented its effect, by putting the obnoxious 
 minister upon his guard; when the means of preventing 
 the communication between the queen and her uncle would 
 easily have been obtained. . A formal embassy to Parma, 
 therefore, was out of the question and the regent sought 
 anxiously for some one to whom he might trust the private 
 management of so delicate a transaction. Lord Peter- 
 
400 EAEL OE PETEEBOEOFGH. 
 
 borougli happened to be at that time in Paris, and the duke 
 of Orleans applied to him, explaining his object, and 
 desiring his assistance. The earl at once undertook the 
 commission, and as there was nothing wonderful in the 
 journey of a man who was continually moving from place ta 
 place, the eyes of Alberoni's adherents were not particularly 
 attracted by his progress from Paris to Italy. 
 
 Travelling apparently for pleasure, he stopped for a few 
 days at Parma, won over the duke to his design, and 
 arranged the whole plan for carrying it into execution. 
 Scotti, an envoy who had before been employed in Spain, 
 was sent back to Madrid, and notwithstanding Alberoni's 
 jealous precautions, obtained a private interview with the 
 queen through the mediation of Laura Pescatori, who had 
 been her nurse. It was now clearly shown to that princess 
 that the fate of her husband and her husband's dominions, 
 the safety of his crown, and the tranquillity of Europe, 
 depended upon the fall of Alberoni ; and no longer hesi- 
 tating between her duty and her inclination, she withdrew 
 the support which had so long upheld the minister. 
 
 The whole transaction had been conducted with such 
 secrecy that Alberoni had not the slightest idea of his 
 approaching fate ; he transacted business with Philip as 
 usual before that monarch's departure for the Prado, and 
 was next morning presented with a royal decree announcing^ 
 his dismissal, and commanding him to quit Madrid within 
 eight and Spain within one-and-twenty days. 
 
 This was the last negotiation in which I find Peter- 
 borough taking any active part. Under George I. and 
 G-eorge II. he remained general of all the marine forces in 
 Great Britain, but his public life was now closed, and 
 he devoted himself to the enjoyment of private happiness. 
 No man knew so well how to fill every moment, and in 
 travelling through all the countries of Europe, mingling 
 with eminent men in every nation and of every class, 
 friendly to many, accessible to all, he passed the subsequent 
 years till 1735. 
 
 Through the greater part of his life he enjoyed uninter- 
 rupted health ; but he was not by any means free from 
 personal sorrows. The loss of his two sons, who died some 
 time before their father, after having distinguished them- 
 selves in the service of their country, was a severe affliction 
 
THE MABBIAQE OF THE EABL OP PETERBOROUGH. 
 
EAEL or PETERBOKOUGH. 401 
 
 to Lord Peterborough. The death of their mother also, his 
 first wife, Carey, daughter of Sir Alexander Eraser, inter- 
 rupted his domestic happiness in 1709, but he afterwards 
 formed a connection which, though its character was for 
 «ome time doubtful, tended much to his comfort in after 
 life. This was a private marriage with the celebrated 
 Anastasia Eobinson, a public singer. Her station in society, 
 -and the secrecy which his pride enjoined, at first caused the 
 lady to be considered as his mistress, though the delicacy 
 and respect with which he treated her on all occasions 
 -could only be paid to acknowledged virtue. She bore the 
 inconveniences and discomfort to which the concealment of 
 their marriage subjected her Y;ith the most exemplary 
 patience, and by her kind counsels and gentle management 
 softened the advance of age and alleviated the approach of 
 sickness and infirmity. The endearing name by which 
 Lord Peterborough always mentioned this lady, " My best 
 friend," sufficiently showed his appreciation of her character; 
 and towards his latter years his conviction of her excellence 
 overcame the weak pride which had produced a private 
 marriage, and gave him strength to do full justice to her 
 reputation. The matrimonial ceremony was not in those 
 days guarded by so many forms as at present ; and though 
 to all who knew him his asseveration was sufficient to 
 establish the fact of his marriage, yet the legal proof 
 was obtained with difficulty, from the death of the clergy- 
 man who had officiated. TJnder these circumstances he was 
 remarried at Bristol, and his wife, who survived him, was 
 placed in that rank of society to which she was properly 
 entitled. 
 
 His great delight in his retirement was in laying out his 
 grounds and in embellishing his property, and even age 
 took nothing from the sprightly cheerfulness of his disposi- 
 tion, or his fondness for society. Courting the company of 
 men of learning and men of wit, he was himself courted; 
 and a thousand anecdotes have been handed down by many 
 a celebrated writer, of the talent, the generosity, and the 
 singularity of the earl of Peterborough. To the circum- 
 stances thus recorded no particular date can be assigned, as 
 the authors from whom we derive them have not fixed their 
 period. 
 
 2 n 
 
402 EAEL OF PETEEBOROrGH. 
 
 "While in Spain lie is said to have paid the English troops 
 himself on the failure of remittances from the British 
 government ; and Voltaire relates an anecdote of him 
 which shows the reliance that even strangers and enemies 
 placed in his chivalrous honour. On the attack of one of 
 the towns in Spain, while he was treating with the governor 
 at one gate, a body of the allies forced their way in at 
 another, on the opposite side. The governor for a moment 
 thought himself betrayed. " Your only resource," exclaimed 
 Peterborough, " is to suffer my troops to enter. We will 
 make the others depart, and I will return and grant you 
 the same terms, or place you in the same condition as you 
 were before." The governor consented ; the English gene- 
 ral entered the city, obliged his allies to retreat, and 
 returning to the spot where the treaty had been inter- 
 rupted, signed the convention as it had been at first pro- 
 posed. Another anecdote, more to the credit of his wit 
 than his good feeling, is told of him, connected with the 
 rivalry which sprang up between him and the duke of 
 Marlborough. At the time that nobleman was in disgrace 
 the popular mind had been greatly irritated against him,. 
 and as Peterborough was passing along the street, in the 
 midst of an excited crowd, he was pointed out as the great 
 general. The multitude immediately conceived him to be 
 the duke of Marlborough, and proceeded to insult him with. 
 the indiscriminate haste with which the vengeance of a 
 crowd is generally expressed. JN'othing that Peterborough 
 could say would persuade them of their mistake, till at 
 length he exclaimed, " Grentlemen, I can convince you by 
 two reasons that I am not the duke. In the first place, I 
 have only five guineas in my pocket ; in the second, they 
 are very much at your service." The mob shouted loudly, 
 received his purse, and suffered him to depart ; but it may 
 be greatly doubted whether in their eyes the money was not 
 the point of the jest. "Witty himself, he was also by his 
 singularities the subject of wit to others, especially in 
 regard to the rapidity with which he travelled, and the 
 number of countries he had visited. He was said to have 
 seen more kings and more postillions than any other man 
 in Europe ; and the ministry used to declare that while he 
 was on the continent they were obliged to write at him, for 
 
EARL OF PETEEBOEOrGH, 403 
 
 such was the celerity of his movements, that they never 
 knew where to write to Mm, 
 
 With both Pope and Swift he was intimate ; and one of 
 his letters to the former concerning the latter may be given 
 as a good example of what Lord Orford has happily called 
 his careless wit and negligent grace. It is dated 1732, at 
 a period when he had considerably passed seventy years of 
 age : " I am under the greatest impatience," he writes, " to 
 see Dr. Swift, at Bevis Mount, and must signify my mind 
 to him by another hand, it not being permitted me to hold 
 correspondence with the said dean, for no letter of mine 
 can come to his hands. And whereas it is apparent, in 
 this Protestant land, most especially under the care of 
 Divine Providence, that nothing can succeed or come to a 
 happy issue but by bribery ; therefore let me know what he 
 expects to comply with my desires, and it shall be remitted 
 unto him. For, though I would not corrupt any man for 
 the whole world, yet a benevolence may be given without 
 any offence to conscience. Every one must confess that 
 gratification and corruption are two distinct terms ; nay, at 
 worst, many good men hold that, for a good end, some very 
 naughty measures may be made use of. 
 
 " But, sir, I must give you some good news in relation 
 to myself, because I know you wish me well. I am cured 
 of some diseases in my old age which tormented me very 
 much in my youth. I was possessed with violent and 
 uneasy passions ; such as a peevish concern for truth, and 
 a saucy love of my country. When a Christian priest 
 preached against the spirit of the gospel, when an English 
 judge determined against Magna Charta, when the minister 
 acted against common sense, I used to fret. J^ow, sir, let 
 what will happen, I keep myself in temper. As I have no 
 flattering hopes, so I banish all useless fears. But as to 
 the things of this world, I find myself in a condition 
 beyond expectation ; it being evident, from a late parlia- 
 mentary inquiry, that I have as much ready money, as 
 much in the funds, and as great a personal estate as Sir 
 Eobert S-tt-n. 
 
 " If the translator of Homer find fault with this unheroic 
 disposition ; or, what I more fear, if the Draper of Ireland 
 accuse the Englishman of want of spirit ; I silence you 
 2 D 2 
 
404: EAEL or PETEllBOEOTJGH. 
 
 botli with one line out of your own Horace, Quid te exempta 
 juvat spinis e plurihus una ? for I take the w^hole to be so 
 corrupted, that to cure any part would be of little avail. 
 Tours,'' &c. 
 
 Shortly after this period, the heath of the earl of Peter- 
 borough, who had hitherto hardly known an hour's illness, 
 began to decline ; and his sufferings from the stone became 
 extremely acute. He bore up with great fortitude, how- 
 ever, and would in no degree change his mode of life, or 
 yield the least point under bodily pain. He travelled, he 
 employed himself as before, and appeared to take as much 
 pleasure in society as in his happier moments. He had 
 often declared that his courage in battle arose from the 
 unconsciousness of danger; but during the last year of his 
 life, his resolution — which is surely a quality near akin to 
 courage — was severely tried by the actual presence of 
 intense corporeal agony. At length the progress of his 
 disease required one of the severest operations of sur- 
 gery ; to which he submitted with the same calmness 
 which he had manifested during the course of his illness. 
 
 Though he possessed sufficient power of mind to endure 
 the extremity of pain, he had not sufficient self-command to 
 yield to even necessary restraint. Immediately after the 
 operation, in spite of every remonstrance, he got into his 
 carriage, and proceeded from Bristol to Southampton ; ap- 
 parently resolved, as Pope observed, to die as he had lived, 
 unlike any other mortal. Finding the wound which the 
 operation had left tardy in healing, he resolved to go to 
 Portugal for change of air ; and, while waiting for a favour- 
 able opportunity to set sail, continued a course of life but 
 little calculated to restore his health, or assuage the agony 
 which he still underwent. 
 
 Some extracts from the letters of Pope, however, who 
 was amongst the last that saw him before leaving England, 
 will aiford a far better picture of his state and character, 
 than anything which could be now said, and as the death 
 of this extraordinary man was amongst the most curious 
 and characteristic circumstances of his history, I shall not 
 apologize for introducing them here, although they may 
 be somewhat long. In a letter from the poet to Martha 
 Blount, dated " Bevis Mount, Southampton, August 17th, 
 1735," he says, — 
 
EAUL OF PETEBBOEOTJGH. 405 
 
 " I found my Lord Peterborow on his coucli, where he 
 gave me an account of the excessive sufferings he had 
 passed through, with a weak voice, but spirited. He talked 
 of nothing but the great amendment of his condition ; and 
 of finishing the buildings and gardens for his best friend to 
 enjoy after him ; that he had one care more when he 
 should go into Prance, which was to give a true account to 
 posterity of some part of history in the queen's reign 
 which Burnet had scandalously represented ; and of some 
 others, to justify her against the imputation of intending to 
 bring in the Pretender ; which, to his knowledge, neither 
 she nor her ministers had any design of doing. 
 
 " The warmth with which he spoke on these subjects 
 made me think him much recovered, as well as his talking 
 of his present state as a heaven compared to what was past. 
 I lay in the next room to him, where I found he was awake 
 and called for help most hours of the night, sometimes 
 crying out from pain. In the morning he got up at nine, 
 and was carried into the garden in a chair. He fainted 
 away twice there. He fell about twelve into a violent pang, 
 which made his limbs all shake and his teeth chatter, and 
 for some time he lay cold as death. His wound was dressed 
 — which was done regularly four times a day — and he grew 
 gay, and sat at dinner with ten people. He is dying every 
 hour, but obstinate to do what he has a mind to. He is 
 engaging a yacht to sail, but no place fixed to reside at, nor 
 any accommodation for his going on land. He talks of 
 going to Lyons, but undoubtedly he can never travel but to 
 the sea-shore. I pity the poor woman who has to share in 
 all he suffers, and who can in no one thing persuade him to 
 spare himself. I think he will be lost in this attempt, and 
 attempt it he will. He has with him day after day, not only 
 his relations, but every creature of the town of Southampton 
 that pleases. He lies on his couch, and receives them, 
 though he says little. When his pains come on, he desires 
 them to walk out, but invites them to dine or sup. He is 
 to go at the month's end, if alive. Nothing can be more 
 affecting and melancholy to me than what I see here ; yet 
 he takes^ my visit so kindly that I should have lost one 
 great pleasure had I not come." 
 
406 EAEL OF PETEEBOEOTJGH. 
 
 According to his intention, Lord Peterborough did sefe 
 sail for Lisbon; but, as every one had anticipated, the 
 voyage, far from improving his health, terminated his exist- 
 ence. He died on the 25th of October, 1735, just having 
 accomplished his expedition, and no more. He was now in 
 his seventy-fifth year ; and up to the day of his death his 
 mind retained the whole of its energies. In writing to 
 Swift at the time of the earl's death. Pope alludes again to 
 the visit mentioned above, or perhaps to another paid sub- 
 sequently to Bevis Mount. " Lord Peterborow^" he says, 
 " I went to take a last leave of, at his setting sail for Lisbon. 
 No tody can be more wasted, no soul can be more alive. 
 
 "Poor Lord Peterborowi" he adds, in the same letter; 
 "there is another string lost that would have helped to 
 draw you hither. He ordered on his death-bed his watch to 
 be given to me (that which had accompanied him in all his 
 travels), with this reason, * that I might have something to 
 put me every day in mind of him.' It was a present to 
 him from the king of Sicily, whose arms and insignia are 
 graved on the inner case," &c. 
 
 The character of Lord Peterborough, like that of every 
 other man that ever lived, has been differently estimated 
 according to the character itself of those who have spoken 
 of him. Some have seen nothing in him but a passion for 
 notoriety, and a mania of being talked of ; but in general a 
 man who is actuated by such motives does not content 
 himself with performing deeds worthy of mention, but 
 rather strives to call attention to his deeds, whether they be 
 worthy or not. I can conceive no man to be absolutely 
 indifferent to the commendation of his fellows, for such a 
 state of feeling would imply a want of all sympathy with 
 human nature, which I believe seldom exists, even in the 
 most depraved heart, though it may sometimes be assumed 
 by a diseased brain. Yet in Lord Peterborough we do not 
 discover any of those mean arts by which persons whose 
 whole object is the uncertain meed of popular applause, and 
 still more those who are indifferent to the better part of 
 fame and only covet attention, are accustomed to strive for 
 the gaze and babble of the multitude. It is much more 
 probable that the original conformation of his mind caused 
 
EAEL OF PETEEEOKOUGH. 407 
 
 liim naturally to form singular combinations of ideas ; and 
 that a peculiarly ardent temperament, acting upon great 
 corporeal powers, hurried him from excitement to excite- 
 ment, while the habit of indulgence induced wilfulness ot 
 purpose, and native excellence of impulse directed his efforts 
 in general to great and worthy objects. 
 
 Those who had the most immediate opportunities of 
 judging of his character — and they were men in whom the 
 investigation of motives and the scrutiny of human nature 
 became a fault — who applied microscopes to man's mind, 
 and magnified the fine tissue of feelings and actions till it 
 became a web so coarse that the smallest thread was dis- 
 cernible — even they judged nobly of the character of Lord 
 Peterborough. Nor do his recorded actions show any cause 
 for impugning their opinion. As a general he was bold, 
 decisive, persevering, successful, full of just views and great 
 resources, active in enterprise, calm in conduct, and resolute 
 in execution. As a politician and diplomatist, he appears 
 to have possessed the great qualities of frankness and sin- 
 •cerity, joined to the fine ones of a clear insight into the 
 characters of others, a just appreciation of their motives, 
 a correct estimation of measures, and a great fertility of 
 means. 
 
 As a man of letters he possessed a considerable portion 
 of that species of wit which characterized the age. I mean 
 that sort of epigrammatic smartness which is apparent in 
 the lighter writings of all who pretended to talent from the 
 reign of Charles II. to the beginning of the second George 
 — whatever may be the tone of their mind in other respects 
 — from Yoltaire and Pope to Swift and Prior. Of these the 
 only exception, perhaps, is Addison, whose mind, notwith- 
 standing his vast power of humour, was more inclined to 
 dwell upon the beautiful than to sneer at the absurd. 
 
 As a man Lord Peterborough is said to have had many 
 faults ; but we must remember that he was educated, either 
 in the gay debauchery of the court of Charles IL, or the 
 ■cold sensuality of that of James. In the one he unhappily 
 learned to despise religion, in the other to abhor bigotry, 
 and in both to forget that morality was a virtue. How- 
 ever, although the assertion has been made, and possibly 
 w^as well-founded, that Lord Peterborough was guilty of 
 •many moral errors, those errors I have not found particu- 
 
408 EAEL or PETEEBOEOUGH. 
 
 larly specified, and I am not anxious to discover them. Did! 
 they obtrude themselves upon me, I vrould not conceal them;, 
 for the lenity which leads a historian to hide faults, though 
 less evil in its consequences, is no less unjust than the pre- 
 judice which teaches him to conceal virtues ; but at the 
 same time I do not see that it is necessary to seek amongst 
 the ashes of past ages for the purpose of commemorating 
 the weaknesses of the dead, without conferrin£»" any benefit 
 on the living. 
 
409 
 
 JOHN MANNERS, 
 
 MAEQUIS OP GEANBY. 
 
 Born in 1721 — Son of the duke of Rutland — Receives a good educaMon. 
 — Enters the army — Raises a regiment in 1745 — Marries — Major- 
 general in 1755 — Joins the army in Germany — Battle of Minden, in 
 which he gains great honours — Commands in chief in Germany — 
 Successes after the battle of Minden — After a return to England, joins 
 Prince Frederic of Brunswick — Good conduct, and minor successes 
 — Celebrated defence of the Passage of Ham — Appointed commander- 
 in-chief in 1766 — Attacked by Junius and defended by Sir W. Draper 
 — His real character — Dies in 1770. 
 
 Celebrity does not always depend upon very great deeds- 
 or very splendid abilities, and the marquis of Grranby, 
 though he himself never achieved any signal victory in the 
 field, was as celebrated in his day as many who have per- 
 sonally effected more. His name was continually mingled 
 during his life with the many important events which at 
 that time agitated Europe ; and as, in the details of the 
 campaign and the battle, it was always spoken of with 
 praise, he acquired a happy fame by his share in many great 
 exploits. 
 
 John Manners, marquis of Granby, first saw the light in. 
 January, 1721. Born in the highest grade of society in 
 England, the son of the duke of Eutland, he received a 
 polished and liberal education, which, working upon a kindly 
 heart and a generous disposition, produced those amiable 
 manners which distinguished him in after-life. A decided 
 predilection for a military career, and considerable talent for 
 command, induced his father to place him in the army, al- 
 though fortune had raised his son above the necessity of 
 choosing a profession. In 1745, when the arrival of an un- 
 happy prince, whose claims are now extinct, threw all the 
 adherents of the house of Hanover into agitation and alarm,, 
 and raised up throughout the country a spirit of political 
 rancour and party hatred hardly paralleled in the annals of 
 
-410 JOJl^ MANNEES, 
 
 Great Britain, the raising of troops for the service of either 
 party became a sort of mania, and, amongst others, the 
 marquis of Granby levied a regiment of foot to act against 
 the young adventurer, who was struggling to regain a crown 
 that had been tornfrom his imprudent and criminal ancestor. 
 
 Little of any consequence is recorded of the life of Lord 
 Granby from that period till in the year 1750 he married the 
 iLady Prances Seymour, the eldest daughter of the duke of 
 Somerset ; an union which, originating, it is said, in affec- 
 tion, was productive of happiness to both. 
 
 The government would have been purer than governments 
 generally are, if the interests of two such families as those 
 of Somerset and Eutland had not been able to raise an aspi- 
 rant high in the profession he had chosen ; but the marquis 
 of Granby had claims which his rank and connections only 
 served to place in a just point of view. He was active, en- 
 terprising, courageous, had exerted himself strenuously in 
 behalf of the reigning family, and merited promotion as well 
 by services rendered as by personal qualifications. 
 
 In 1755 the approach of an open rupture between Eng- 
 land and France occasioned several movements in the Bri- 
 tish army, and the marquis of Granby was raised to the rank 
 of major-general. During the hostilities which preceded 
 the declaration of war, I do not find that he was employed 
 in any active service; and it would appear that he spent the 
 two following years in the commerce of ordinary society, 
 and in those kindly and generous actions which, though 
 they sometimes in him degenerated into profusion, are, when 
 properly regulated, fruits of the noblest virtue, and even 
 when pushed into excess, are amongst the noblest faults. 
 At this period the marquis and marchioness of Granby, in 
 conjunction with Lady Guernsey, another daughter of the 
 duke of Somerset, presented to the senate-house of Cam- 
 bridge a statue of that, nobleman, who had for many years 
 been chancellor of the university. It was executed in 
 marble by Hysbrach, and even to the present day does 
 honour to the genius of the artist. This fact is only worth 
 preserving in the biography of Lord Granby, as the statue 
 was executed under his immediate directions, and some in- 
 formation may be thence derived in regard to his pursuits 
 in time of peace, and the general course of his domestic 
 ' occupations. 
 
MAEQUIS OF GEANBT. 411 
 
 From the society of his friends, however, and the current 
 of calmer pleasures, the marquis of Granby was soon called 
 to the field by events of which some detail must be here 
 given. The duke of Cumberland, who had in the com- 
 mencement of the war of 1756 commanded the Hanoverian 
 ^rmy opposed to the duke de Bichelieu, was obliged, as I 
 have noticed elsewhere, to sign a convention at Closter 
 ■Seven, the ostensible object of which was to pacify the 
 Hanoverian dominions, and the allies of the elector ; and to 
 restore tranquillity to that part of the empire. The conven- 
 tion, which was drawn up with great care, seems studiously 
 to have left so much ambiguity in the terras, that the con- 
 senting parties might recommence the war whenever it 
 suited their convenience, and in the mean time derive what 
 advantage they could from an unsettled state. The king of 
 Great Britain recruited his forces, and made every prepara- 
 tion for breaking the convention as soon as possible ; and 
 the French pillaged Hanover at leisure, and endeavoured to 
 fix their government upon the country they had acquired. 
 
 Everything was completed for the recommencement of 
 hostilities on the part of the Hanoverians before the end of 
 the summer ; and the duke of Cumberland having resigned 
 the command, it was bestowed upon Prince Ferdinand of 
 Brunswick, who soon began active measures of aggression. 
 The duke de Eichelieu remonstrated for the sake of appear- 
 ances ; but the German general thought it little worth his 
 while to enter into any prolonged altercation, and conse- 
 •quently, after a very brief reply, marched directly to attack 
 the enemy. The French general, who, in all probability, 
 -expected that long disputes would precede the rupture of 
 the convention, and give him time to collect his troops, and 
 press some more contributions from the country, was taken 
 unaware by the quick movements of the Hanoverian army. 
 Several of his detachments were surprised and defeated ; 
 and he himself was obliged to retreat to Zell with great 
 precipitation. Affecting high indignation at the breach of 
 the convention, Eichelieu committed a great many of those 
 atrocious barbarities which occasionally disgrace even the 
 most civilized warfare. He was, however, soon removed 
 from the command; and while Prince Ferdinand, having 
 been joined by Prince George of Holstein and a body of 
 Prussian cavalry, advanced upon Bremen, taking Rothen- 
 
412 JOHN MANNEES, 
 
 burg and Ottersburg by the way, Monsieur de Clermont, 
 who succeeded to the station of commander-in-chief of the 
 Trench, endeavoured to recruit and consolidate a sickly, 
 scattered, and dissolute army. The Hanoverian general 
 gave but little time for such a purpose, and, marching upon 
 Hanover and Brunswick, took the fort of Hoya, upon the 
 Weser, after a vigorous resistance, and cleared the whole 
 country beyond the line of Hanover, Zell, and Brunswick. 
 The French retired from all those places with more haste 
 than was either agreeable or glorious ; and in some instances 
 the sense of ignominy, and the thirst of revenge, induced 
 them to ravage and waste the country they were forced ta 
 abandon. Hanover was treated with less severity; no 
 plunder was permitted on the retreat of the army, and the 
 provisions accumulated for its use were distributed among 
 the poor. By drawing bis troops from all the garrisons as 
 be advanced, tbe prince de Clermont greatly strengthened 
 his force, and more than once attempted to make a stand ; 
 but the rapidity of Prince Ferdinand's movements gave 
 him no time to fortify himself in any position ; and, in order 
 to check the Hanoverians, 3,500 men were thrown into 
 Minden, while the French head-quarters were formed at 
 Hamelin. Minden could hold out but five days, and the 
 advance of Prince Ferdinand again drove his antagonist to 
 Paderboru, and thence to Wesel on the Ehine. That 
 immense efforts would be made by France to retrieve her 
 military renown, and recover the territory which had thus- 
 been wrenched from her grasp, could not be doubted ; and 
 Prince Ferdinand anxiously solicited aid from England to 
 meet the danger by equal exertion. 
 
 The difiiculty of transporting cavalry to the scene of 
 action delayed the movement of the English ; for the Dutch 
 treaty with France prevented the possibility of carrying 
 the reinforcements through their country, and Emden, the 
 only convenient port, was in the hands of the French. To 
 remedy this, a fleet under Admiral Holmes was sent against 
 that place ; and Prince Ferdinand did not retire to winter 
 quarters in Munster, till he had seen the French nearly 
 beat back to their own frontier, and a port opened for his 
 communication with England. 
 
 The army of Hanover was soon once more in the field. 
 Supplies for carrying on the war had been liberally voted 
 
MARQUIS OP GRANBT. 413 
 
 by England, and everything promised support and success. 
 The French were again forced to retreat, though their 
 numbers were now very superior ; and Prince Ferdinand, 
 'after having crossed the Rhine, drew the prince de Cler- 
 mont out of his intrenched camp at Ehinefeldt, and com- 
 pletely defeated him at Crevelt. Dusseldorf immediately 
 surrendered, but the fruits of these victories were obliged 
 to be abandoned ; for while Prince Ferdinand was pursuing 
 the prince de Clermont, the prince de Soubise had pene- 
 trated into the landgravate of Hesse, had defeated the force 
 of Prince Yssemburg, and made a demonstration of inter- 
 posing between the Hanoverian army and the supplies from 
 England which by this time had arrived at Emden. These 
 considerations induced Prince Ferdinand to retreat, and 
 effect his junction with the British troops, which was carried 
 into execution without loss, by the skilful manoeuvres of 
 the commander-in-chief and the gallant resolution of 
 General Imhoff. 
 
 The troops sent from England consisted almost entirely 
 of cavalry, and did not amount to 3,000 men ; but their 
 presence was nevertheless of the utmost importance to the 
 Hanoverian army. The two oflBcers in command were the 
 duke of Marlborough and Lord George Sackvilie ; and 
 shortly after their arrival. Prince Ferdinand found himself 
 sufficiently strong to detach General Oberg, with 10,000 
 men, to support Prince Yssemburg, who was opposed to 
 the prince de Soubise. The principal French army still 
 continued in the rear of the Hanoverians, and a great and 
 advantageous change had been worked in its commanders, 
 the chief of whom was now Monsieur de Contades, in the 
 place of the prince de Clermont. 
 
 General Oberg was defeated at Luttenburg ; and Prince 
 Ferdinand finding that no more could be effected that year, 
 from the severity with which the winter set in, retired to 
 winter quarters in Munster. The duke of Marlborough 
 having died at that place, the chief command of the British 
 forces in Germany devolved upon Lord George Sackvilie, 
 who appears to have come over to England while the army 
 remained in quarters at Munster. His situation as com- 
 mander-in-chief having been confirmed, he returned to his 
 post early in March, accompanied by the marquis of Granby, 
 by this time lieutenant-general and colonel of the Blues. 
 
414 JOHN MA.NNEKS, 
 
 In the interim the French had made themselves masters- 
 of Erankfort by stratagem ; and Prince Ferdinand soon 
 found the necessity of dislodging them from that position- 
 A diversion, however, on the side of Hesse, prevented him 
 from making the attempt till the beginning of April, when 
 he marched rapidly for the city, hoping to take it by a coup- 
 de-main. Notwithstanding his precautions, the French 
 gained information of his movements, and on the 13th of 
 April, he found the enemy in force at the village of 
 Berghen, between him and Frankfort. Prince Ferdinand 
 hesitated not a moment to attack them, though they were 
 both strongly posted, and superior in number to himself. 
 The French, commanded by the duke de Broglio, stood 
 their ground ; and, after three successive attacks, in one of 
 which Prince Tssemburg was killed, the Hanoverian com- 
 mander found the necessity of retreating. To effect this in 
 presence of a superior and victorious enemy was difficult ;, 
 but by making fresh dispositions, as if for renewing the 
 attack, Prince Ferdinand succeeded in amusing the enemy 
 till night, when he fell back without molestation, gaining, 
 perhaps, more military renown by the skilful manner in 
 which he concealed his defeat from the enemy, than he 
 would have done by success in the engagement. 
 
 The French thus maintained possession of Frankfort ;; 
 their armies on the Upper and Lower Ehine were both 
 strongly reinforced ; and in June, having united at Mar- 
 burg, under the command of Monsieur de Contades, they 
 began a plan of operations which threatened to cut off the 
 retreat of the Hanoverians. Prince Ferdinand, forced to 
 recede before them towards the Weser, threw every impedi- 
 ment in their way. But Munden, Gottingen, Eitburg,. 
 Minden, and Munster were taken by assault or siege ; and 
 proceeding as if to certain conquest, the French forced their 
 adversary back upon Petershagen. Here, however, having 
 been joined by a considerable reinforcement under General 
 Wangenheim, Prince Ferdinand made a pause and fortified 
 himself in a strong position, in order to arrest the farther 
 progress of the enemy. Various skirmishes now took place, 
 in which the advantages fell to the Hanoverians. Osna- 
 bruck was surprised; and while General "Wangenheim 
 remained at Thornhausen on the banks of the "Weser,. 
 opposed to the advance of the French army from Minden,. 
 
MAEQUIS OF GEANBY. 415^ 
 
 the hereditary prince of Brunswick was detached with tea 
 thousand men to cut off the Erench supplies from Pader- 
 born. 
 
 The French general Contades found that he must either 
 retreat or attack Prince Ferdinand in position, and his 
 determination was soon fixed bj a movement which the 
 Hanoverian general made towards Hille, for the purpose of 
 either luring him to a battle, or attacking him at a disadvan- 
 tage if he did not advance. Contades suffered himself to 
 be deceived, and imagining that Prince Ferdinand had 
 marched with his principal force so far to the right as to be 
 unable to support Greneral Wangenheim on the "Weser, 
 resolved to attack the latter immediately, and open the 
 path into the heart of Hanover. The duke de Broglio was 
 accordingly directed to pass the little river Werra, and the 
 morass which lay between Minden and the Hanoverian 
 camp, and forcing the position of General "Wangenheim 
 early the next morning, to turn upon the flank of Prince 
 Ferdinand's army at Hille, while Marshal Contades pro- 
 ceeded against him with his main body in front. The news 
 of the first movements of the French reached the prince at 
 three o'clock in the morning ; but his troops were all pre- 
 pared to march, and in a short time his communication with 
 his left was completely restored. The right and left of the 
 French army, under Gruerci and Broglio, consisted princi- 
 pally of infantry, while the centre was almost entirely com- 
 posed of cavalry. As it was intended to turn the left of 
 the Hanoverian army, by driving back the corps of Greneral 
 "Wangenheim, the right of the French under the duke de 
 Broglio was thrown forward, and passing the morass late 
 on the evening of the 31st July, had arrived within half a 
 mile of the Hanoverian left before daylight the next morn- 
 ing. Along the whole front ran a rising ground, which 
 covered the dispositions of the allied army, but was only 
 defended by a few weak posts, which were soon driven 
 over the hill. Advancing to reconnoitre, the duke de 
 Broglio immediately perceived, to his great surprise, the 
 whole of the Hanoverian army drawn up in order of battle. 
 At this moment the forces of Prince Ferdinand were all 
 tinder arms upon the ground, except the detachment he 
 had sent to cut off the French supplies. On his left 
 were the corps of G-eneral Wangenheim, advanced so far 
 
416 JOHN MANNEES, 
 
 as to be supported by a battery at Thornhaiisen on the 
 "Weser, and a body of Prussian cavalry under the Prince 
 of Holstein. The centre was composed principally of 
 infantry, with the farmhouse of Tostenhausen forming a 
 strong post in front ; while on the right Lord Greorge Sack- 
 ville, with a large body of cavalry, continued the line as far 
 as the village of Hartum. 
 
 The marquis of Granby commanded the second line of 
 cavalry; and, as upon the conduct of these two bodies some 
 of the principal events of the day depended, it may be well 
 to notice more particularly the nature of the ground. As 
 already stated, the cavalry was formed in two lines, the first 
 commanded by Lord Greorge Sackville, and the second by 
 the marquis of Grranby. The extreme right of the right 
 wing approached nearly to a little hamlet, with some rising 
 ground; and its left was somewhat disjointed from the 
 infantry of the centre, by a small open wood, beyond which 
 extended a very narrow corn-field, having in front a wide 
 moor, called in the accounts of the day Minden-heath. Un- 
 incumbered by any brushwood, the trees of the wood were 
 far apart and ofiered little impediment except to the sight, 
 from which they shut out the plain. The infantry from the 
 beginning of the action was slightly advanced ; and Lord 
 George Sackville, who was late at the head of his troops, 
 and late upon the field, seems to have been behind the 
 position intended for him to occupy. 
 
 As soon as the duke de Broglio had passed the hill, he 
 saw that full dispositions had been made for a general 
 action ; and as this state of things was very different from 
 that which either himself or the marshal de Contades had 
 anticipated, he paused and, opening a sharp cannonade upon 
 the Hanoverian line, he despatched information of the cir- 
 cumstances to the commander-in-chief. Contades was at 
 this time advancing with his centre and left wing ; and, as 
 the duke de Broglio received no answer, he rode to the 
 centre to seek directions himself. Several hours were thus 
 wasted, but as the Erench army were now too much 
 entangled with the morass to think of receding, the attack 
 was continued upon the left of the allies by a sharp 
 cannonade from a battery now erected on the rising 
 ground. The Hanoverian artillery, however, had been so 
 well placed and was so well served that the Prench bat- 
 
MAKQUIS OF GEANBT. 417 
 
 tery was speedily silenced and their right wing kept in 
 check. 
 
 In the meanwhile, in the centre, six regiments of English 
 infantry, with two battalions of Hanoverians, without wait- 
 ing their adversaries' approach, advanced, under a tremendous 
 fire from two French batteries, to attack the cavalry of the 
 enemy opposed to them. The boldness of the movement, 
 and the success with which it was attended, did honour both 
 to the general and his troops. The French cavalry, finding 
 themselves about to be charged by the English infantry^ 
 instantly poured down upon them; but the British regi- 
 ments already had the impetus in their favour, the French 
 were driven back in confusion, and the duke de Broglio's 
 corps was obliged to make a movement from their right, to 
 cover the disarray of the centre. Prince Ferdinand instantly 
 despatched his aide-de-camp. Count Wintzingerode, to com- 
 mand Lord George Sackville to come up through the open 
 road to the left with the cavalry, and complete the rout of 
 the French army. Whetlier from cowardice, or folly, or dis- 
 like to his commander, Lord Greorge Sackville could not or 
 would not comprehend the order, demanded several times 
 how it was to be executed, and at length prepared to march 
 forward, not by the left, but in a direct line. Having seen 
 some dispositions made towards advancing, the first aide-de- 
 camp left the English commander ; and, in a moment after, 
 a second messenger, Lieutenant-colonel Ligonier, came up 
 to press the instant march of the cavalry. Still, however. 
 Lord George Sackville was about to move straight forward, 
 instead of to the left, which was the only spot where his 
 presence could be useful ; and a new cause of dispute arose 
 upon the arrival of Colonel Fitzroy with repeated commands 
 for him to bring up the British cavalry. The unhappy 
 general now pretended to look upon the orders brought by 
 the two aides-de-camp as contradictory — the one stating the 
 cavalry, the other the British cavalry ; and his unwillingness 
 to comprehend was so apparent, that the lieutenant-colonel 
 of the regiment at whose head he was, exclaimed aloud, 
 addressing one of the aides-de-camp, " For God's sake, 
 repeat your orders to that man, so that he may not pretend 
 to misunderstand them." Lord George, however, would 
 not be satisfied with the commands he received, and pro- 
 
 2 E 
 
418 JOHK MANNERS, 
 
 ceeded himself to seek for the commander-in-chief. Three 
 quarters of an hour had now been lost ; but as the infantry 
 were still engaged, the prince, on being informed of the dis- 
 pute, instantly sent off for the second line of cavalry, saying, 
 " Give my commands to the marquis of Granby, for I know- 
 he will obey me." 
 
 While this mismanagement had passed in front. Lord 
 Granby had remained at the head of the second line, won- 
 dering that so strong a body of cavalry, forming nearly the 
 whole of the right wing, should remain unemployed while a 
 severe contest was evidently going on in the plain. In the 
 impatience of the moment, after waiting some time for 
 orders, he had ridden a little way in advance, to gain a sight 
 of the battle, when an aide-de-camp rode up, and commanded 
 him to bring up the second line to the support of the in- 
 fantry. Lord Granby immediately asked why those orders 
 had not been communicated to Lord George Sackville, his 
 superior officer. In reply, the aide-de-camp informed him 
 that they had been delivered, but»had not been obeyed, and 
 that the commander-in-chief had now directed them to him. 
 Lord Granby now. hesitated no longer, but, putting his 
 troops in motion, passed through the grove of trees without 
 difficulty, and reached the plain. At that moment, however, 
 Lord George Sackville sent an order for the second line to 
 halt till the first came up, which was so far obeyed, that the 
 movement in advance was suspended for a few minutes ; but 
 fresh commands being received from Prince Eerdinand him- 
 selt, Lord Granby immediately galloped on ; and in a few 
 minutes the first line also appeared, forming with the second 
 behind the infantry. 
 
 The battle was now over. So much time had been lost, 
 that, though the centre of the French was totally defeated, 
 their right had by this time taken measures to cover the 
 retreat. The bridges over the stream were broken down 
 behind them, and the passes destroyed through the marsh. 
 Prince Perdinand, unwilling to hazard the success of so 
 glorious a day, abandoned the pursuit, and the enemy 
 retired, and reposed under the cannon of Minden. The 
 news, however, reached their camp that night that the here- 
 ditary prince of Brunswick, who had been detached from the 
 Hanoverian army to cut off their supplies, had completely 
 defeated Monsieur de Brissac at Coesfelt, and that in con- 
 
MARQUIS OF GRANBT. 419 
 
 'Sequence their communication was interrupted with the 
 country behind them. A precipitate retreat was the conse- 
 quence; and the victory at Minden was thus rendered 
 complete and serviceable. 
 
 In the morning which followed the battle Prince Ferdi- 
 nand issued a general order of thanks to the officers who 
 had principally contributed to his victory, from the list of 
 whom the name of Lord George Sackville was purposely 
 excluded. His commendation was chiefly bestowed upon the 
 British infantry, to whose gallant efforts success was cer- 
 tainly to be greatly attributed ; but at the same time he 
 publicly declared to the marquis of G-ranby that he felt sure 
 if he had had the good fortune to have him at the head of 
 the cavalry of the right winj]:, the victory would have been 
 much more complete and brilliant. 
 
 Such strong expressions of disapprobation could not pass 
 unnoticed by Lord George Sackville ; and he solicited leave 
 to resign his command, and return to England, which was 
 immediately granted. He was instantly, on his arrival, dis- 
 missed from all his military appointments, and a court- 
 martial was called to try him for disobedience of orders. 
 In the meanwhile the marquis of Granby was appointed 
 <;ommander-in-chief of the British forces in Germany, and 
 master-general of the ordnance — two posts of which Lord • 
 George Sackville was deprived. To the battle of Minden 
 succeeded a long train of successes against the Erench, in 
 all of which Lord Granby participated. Minden and Cassel 
 immediately fell into the hands of the Hanoverians ; and 
 the French army was driven across the Weser, into a 
 country offering but small means of subsistence, and in 
 which no preparations had been made for their support. 
 Munster also surrendered after a short siege, and Fulda was 
 taken by surprise. The year being now far advanced, both 
 armies retired into winter quarters ; and Lord Granby 
 returned to England, with the painful task before him of 
 attending as a witness at the trial of Lord George Sackville. 
 To aid in the condemnation of another, whatever may have 
 been his faults, and however loudly justice may call for his 
 punishment, can never surely be a grateful undertaking ; and 
 though, where the public weal is concerned, the least modi- 
 fication of truth by a witness is either weakness or crime, 
 2 E 2 
 
420 JOHN MANNEES, 
 
 yet in the minute shades of human conduct we are always 
 more pleased to see the heart turn rather towards mercy 
 than towards severity. In his evidence against his former 
 commander-in-chief, Lord Granby told the truth as mildly 
 as the truth could be told without perverting its purity. 
 Other witnesses were more harsh, and gave importance to- 
 minor facts by the weight of indignation, and perhaps of 
 prejudice. The evidence, however, was so strong and con- 
 clusive, taken as a whole, that, notwithstanding all the 
 interest and exertions of a powerful family. Lord Greorge 
 Sackville was condemned, and dismissed the service with 
 disgrace. 
 
 During the absence of the marquis of Grranby from the 
 scene of war, Prince Eerdinand had remained in winter 
 quarters in the neighbourhood of Paderborn, Cassel, and 
 Munster. Several unimportant skirmishes had taken place 
 during the winter and spring ; but the commencement 
 of active hostilities was deferred by both armies to a late 
 period in the year, the French pausing for want of forage 
 for their cavalry, and Prince Perdinand remaining inactive 
 in expectation of the reinforcements which had been 
 despatched from England. These reinforcements at length 
 arrived by the way of Embden, and after various prepara-^ 
 tory movements, and one or two serious encounters, in 
 which the Erench and the allies were alternately successful, 
 all seemed to tend towards a general battle. The Erencb 
 army, divided into three bodies, marched forward as 
 with the design of surrounding the Hanoverian forces. 
 The left, commanded by Monsieur de Muy, passed the 
 Dymel, and extending itself down the river, interposed 
 between Prince Eerdinand and "Westphalia, while their 
 right, under Prince Xavier of Saxony, endeavoured to turn 
 the left of the allies by marching upon Cassel: and tho 
 main army, commanded by the duke de Broglio, who had 
 now been appointed commander-in-chief, advanced directly 
 upon the Hanoverian position. 
 
 The situation of the allied army now became critical, but 
 the duke de Eroglio had committed the common error 
 of extending his line of operations too far, in hopes of 
 surprising his adversary. Of this Prince Eerdinand imme- 
 diately took advantage; and, paying no attention to the 
 centre and right of the enemy, he marched to attack their 
 
MAEQUIS OF GEANBT. 421 
 
 left, consisting of thirtj-five thousand men under Monsieur 
 <de Muy. This force was posted with its right resting on 
 the small town of Warburg, and its left reaching nearly 
 to the heights of Menne. The Hanoverian army advanced 
 against it in two divisions. The right commanded by the 
 hereditary prince of Brunswick and General Sporken, 
 a little in advance of the centre, proceeded round the heights 
 on the enemy's left, and, sheltered by a thick fog, contrived 
 to get both upon their flank and rear; while the main 
 body, under Prince Ferdinand and the marquis of Grauby, 
 marched forward to attack the French in front. The 
 ground in advance was marshy and difficult, and the here- 
 ditary prince had reached the rise of the heights before 
 the rest of the corps were upon a parallel with that which 
 he commanded. At that instant the fog cleared away, and 
 the French, who were aware of the march of an enemy, but 
 4id not well know in what direction to expect their attack, 
 'HOW found two columns of the allies advancing upon them, 
 one already in their rear, and the other climbing the heights 
 upon their flank. 
 
 Three brigades were immediately pushed forward to 
 ^oppose the ascent of the Hanoverians; but the attacking 
 party reached the summit first, and the battle began on the 
 flank and rear of the French left, almost at the same 
 moment. In the meantime the centre and right of the 
 allies, in which were the principal force of the British 
 troops, toiled on to come up to the scene of action ; and 
 such were the exertions made that several of the English 
 infantry dropped down dead with the hot sun and the 
 fatiguing nature of the ground. By the distance and 
 the difficulty of advance, the foot were prevented from 
 reaching the spot in time, but the British artillery was 
 hurried up with a speed previously unknown, and the 
 •cavalry arriving, charged the main body of the French, 
 while the hereditary prince upon the heights drove back 
 '4}heir left upon their centre. Warburg being attacked at 
 the same time, the retreat of the enemy was immediate; 
 and, though there was some confusion in passing the Dymel, 
 it was conducted in such a manner before a superior force, 
 ras to do high honour to Monsieur de Muy and the French 
 officers under his command. After passing the river, the 
 iFrench once more formed on the opposite heights ; but the 
 
422 JOHN MAlfNEES, 
 
 marquis of Granby following, with a part of the British 
 troops, the enemy again decamped and retreated to Wolfs- 
 hagen. A number of minor movements succeeded, which 
 belong more to the general history of the war than to the 
 biography of an individual. It is perhaps only necessary 
 to state that in all the events of the campaign Lord Grranby 
 played his part, and maintained his own character as^ 
 a brave man and a skilful officer. 
 
 Though acting only as second in command, he acquired a 
 high reputation as a military man ; and, brave to a faulty 
 generous and kindhearted, he also gained the devoted love 
 botli of his soldiers and officers. Notwithstanding all the 
 efforts of Prince Ferdinand, the immense numerical supe- 
 riority of the French army acted as a weight which he could 
 not throw off ; and, at the end of the campaign, the enemy 
 were in possession of Hesse, with a great number of fortified 
 places, strengthening the long line on which they had 
 taken up their winter quarters, and with the whole of 
 Hanover open before them for the next campaign. 
 
 The fact of having during a whole year kept in check so 
 formidable a force, was highly glorious to the allies ; but 
 the plan laid down for the ensuing season was one of 
 the grandest schemes of military operations perhaps ever 
 planned. The French had hitherto never shown themselves 
 very active in the winter season, and Prince Ferdinand 
 resolved to put his army in motion at a time when the 
 enemy were least disposed to act ; and by attacking their 
 line on four different points to drive them back, or so dis- 
 perse them that their concentration would be afterwards 
 both difficult and dangerous. Before each of the columns a 
 sort of advance guard was thrown out, and in the very 
 beginning of February the allies were in the field. 
 
 Consternation and surprise spread through the French 
 army at this unexpected attack ; and flight became the 
 order of the day. The strong forts, however, with which 
 they had furnished their line, offered secure places of re- 
 treat, and gave them the means of rallying from their first 
 confusion. The Hanoverian forces still eagerly pursued 
 their advantage. Fritzlar was taken by the hereditary 
 prince, and the marquis of Grranby made himself master of 
 Gudersburg. The French retired in every direction, burn- 
 ing the stores and magazines they had provided for the 
 
MAEQIJIS OF GEANBT. 423 
 
 winter ; and General Sporken, with a considerable body of 
 Hanoverians, forced his way between the Prench and im- 
 •perial armies, effected his junction with a reinforcement 
 from the Prussian army, and completely defeated the Saxon 
 forces near Langensaltze. 
 
 Notwithstanding the great success which attended the 
 first operations of the allied army, various circumstances 
 were rapidly combining to render their triumph short. 
 Cassel and Ziegenhayn held out against them, the French 
 were rapidly recovering from their first surprise, and the 
 duke de Broglio was collecting gradually his detachments 
 from the Lower E/hine. At length, finding his force superior 
 to that of the Hanoverians, he marched to the relief of 
 Cassel, defeated the hereditary prince of Brunswick, forced 
 the allies to retire towards Paderborn, and then, having re- 
 covered all that had been lost, retired again into winter 
 quarters, nearly on the same line which he had formerly 
 occupied. 
 
 It was some time before either party thought fit to re- 
 commence the campaign. The French sufiPered extremely 
 from the loss of their stores ; and the want of forage kept 
 them in quarters till June. As soon as they took the field 
 the army of Prince Ferdinand was obliged to retreat before 
 them, and fall back upon the Lippe ; but here the prince 
 took up a position, the natural strength of which gave him 
 some hope of being able to oppose with success the superior 
 force of the enemy. 
 
 The road from Lipstadt to Ham, for some way, ran along 
 a sort of peninsula formed by the rivers Aeth and Lippe, 
 which flow side by side for several leagues, leaving occasion- 
 ally less than half a mile between them. To command this 
 road, the left wing of the Hanoverian army, under the mar- 
 quis of Granby, was drawn up across the peninsula, with its 
 left leaning on the Lippe, and its right touching the Aeth 
 at the little village of Kirch Denkern, where the. Aeth is 
 joined by the Saltzback. This last-mentioned stream flows 
 through a deep ravine at a right angle with the Aeth, and 
 is dominated for some way by a considerable range of 
 heights, on which the centre and right of the Hanoverian 
 army were posted. 
 
 The dispositions for taking up this position were liardly 
 complete on the 15th of July, when the French appeared in 
 
424 JOHN MAKNEES, 
 
 superior force on the peninsula, and instantly commenced 
 the attack upon the corps of the marquis of Granby. The 
 event of the war now depended upon the skill and firmness 
 of the British general, and the courage and resolution of his 
 small body of troops. The fire of artillery and musketry 
 was tremendous, the attacking force overwhelming, and the 
 charge of the French conducted with all that impetuous 
 confidence in their own success which has so often won 
 them the victory. At the same time no succour could be 
 aflforded to the British forces. Greneral Wutgenau, destined 
 to support them, could not reach the spot for nearly three 
 hours ; and during the whole of that time. Lord Grranby 
 resisted, without yielding a step, a force of more than ten 
 times the number of his own troops. The bold, determined 
 courage, however, of their general gave every support to his 
 men in their perilous situation ; and the great carelessness 
 of his own person which the marquis of Granby displayed, 
 though in general approaching to rashness, could not be 
 blamed on an occasion when the least appearance of timidity 
 would have been ruinous to the whole army. At the end 
 of three hours the reserve of the left wing came up ; and, 
 thus strengthened. Lord Granby renewed his efibrts, and 
 succeeded, before nightfall, in driving back the French into 
 the woods. During the night the allies, feeling certain that 
 the French, though repelled, were not conquered, employed 
 their time in strengthening their position. The village of 
 Kirch Denkern was fortified as well as could be effected in 
 a few hours ; and the division of the marquis of Granby and 
 General "Wutgenau was reinforced by several fresh regi- 
 ments. As this was the weak point in the Hanoverian line, 
 in regard to natural defences, every effort was made to 
 secure it by other means ; but a high ground commanding 
 the front of the British troops, was left unoccupied, either 
 by neglect or by the impossiblity of embracing it within the 
 line without leaving the left flank exposed. 
 
 At daybreak on the 16th the whole forces of France, now 
 united, poured down again on the post of Lord Granby ; 
 but, though now trebled in number, they were met by the 
 same determined resolution which had repelled them the 
 night before. As on the passage towards Ham the success 
 of the campaign greatly depended, the whole efforts of the 
 French were directed against this point, and five hours were 
 
MAEQTJIS OF GRANBT. 425 
 
 •expended in useless efforts to drive Lord Granby from his 
 position. At length the heights, which had been equally- 
 neglected by the French and the allies, caught the attention 
 of the prince de Soubise, and he instantly ordered a battery 
 to be erected there, which would soon have dislodged the 
 Hanoverians from their ground. Eut Prince Perdinand, 
 seeing the enemy's movements to that effect, despatched in- 
 formation to Lord Granby," and, at the same time, detached 
 a considerable reinforcement under General Sporken, to 
 enable the British commander to charge the enemy in flank, 
 while embarrassed with an alteration of proceedings. This 
 was immediately effected. The British troops, supported 
 by the Hanoverians, charged with steady intrepidity, and 
 •drove the right wing of the French back in confusion. One 
 whole regiment of the enemy surrendered ; and the rest of 
 that division abandoned the field in haste, leaving behind 
 them their cannon and their wounded. The left of the 
 French, and the centre, which had been posted to keep in 
 check the Hanoverian divisions on the heights behind the 
 ^Saltzback, now moved to the right to cover the retreat of 
 their defeated brigades. This was done with coolness and 
 regularity, and their force being far too strong for Lord 
 Granby to attack, the retreat of the whole French army 
 was efiected without much loss. 
 
 They left about three thousand men in killed and wounded 
 upon the field ; and fifteen hundred prisoners, as well as 
 possession of the ground, attested the triumph of the allies. 
 "This victory produced the effect of checking the French 
 progress for the time, but that was all. The immense 
 numerical superiority of the enemy gave them advantages 
 which all the activity and skill of Prince Ferdinand could 
 not counterbalance. 
 
 The French army now divided, and throwing out large 
 detachments into different parts of the country, ravaged, 
 pillaged, and destroyed as they went, waging a much more 
 ■dreadful warfare than by the ordinary course of siege and 
 battle. This continued to the end of the year, when the 
 troops of both nations retired into winter quarters. 
 
 The next campaign opened somewhat unfavourably for 
 the allied army, and after a number of skirmishes and 
 manoeuvres from which neither force derived any consider- 
 «ible advantage, the French took u^> a position between 
 
426 JOII^ MANXEES, 
 
 Meinbrexen and Grebenstein, on which last-named place 
 the right rested, while a considerable body of troops was 
 thrown out on the same side as far as Carlsdorff. At the 
 same time Prince Xavier of Saxony lay near Grottingeny 
 keeping a large detachment of the allies, under Greneral 
 Luckner, in play to watch his movements. 
 
 Notwithstanding the advantages which the French pos- 
 sessed in their position, which was defended by a number 
 of streams and deep ravines, and was raised upon the 
 heights near Grebenstein, Prince Ferdinand determined ta 
 attack them. General Luckner was ordered to draw off 
 his forces from the side of Gottingen, and to co-operate 
 with General Sporken, who passing the Dymel was to- 
 attack the French right at Carldoff in flank, while the 
 former officer charged them in the rear. The marquis of 
 Granby, passing the same river at Warburg, was to attack 
 the enemy's left by marching over the heights of Zieren- 
 burg, while Prince Ferdinand himself proceeded to assail 
 them in front. The French, in addition to the advantage 
 of the ground, had the superiority of numbers, being in 
 regard to the allies as five to three ; but the rapidity and 
 precision with which the movements of the Hanoverian 
 army were made, took them by surprise in every quarter. 
 Attacked at once on both flanks and in front, the French 
 scarcely attempted to defend their position ; but retreated 
 as fast as possible under cover of a brief stand, made by 
 Monsieur de Stainville with a part of the infantry. Thi» 
 gallant little corps, taking possession of the woods of "Wil- 
 helmstaht, sacrificed themselves for the rest of the army ; 
 and after fighting resolutely for some time against the mar- 
 quis of Granby, were almost all either killed or taken. 
 
 Little loss took place on the Hanoverian side ; the allies 
 having only three hundred killed. The resistance, however, 
 of the French infantry swelled the loss of the enemy to 
 near four thousand in prisoners and slain. 
 
 Marshal d'Estrees immediately retreated under the can- 
 non of Cassel ; and Prince Ferdinand proceeded to cut off 
 the French communication with the Ehine. To compen- 
 sate this success, the prince of Conde, who commanded the 
 army on the lower Rhine, completely defeated the here- 
 ditary prince ; and after various partial engagements, in 
 which the marquis of Granby continued to distinguish him- 
 
MAEQUIS OP GRAIS^BY. 427 
 
 self both for valour and for conduct, the French captured 
 the fort of Amoenburg ; but were much greater losers by 
 the fall of Cassel, which surrendered to the allies on the 
 first of November, 1762. 
 
 This was the last act of the war. A short time before, 
 George II. had closed his career in death, and his grandson 
 George III. having succeeded him, new feelings and inter- 
 ests were brought into play. However sad it is that the 
 fate of nations and weal of worlds should hang upon the 
 frail thread of one weak human life, so it has ever been, 
 and never was more strongly shown than in the events 
 which followed the death of George II. Mr. Pitt and Lord 
 Temple retired from the ministry ; the influence of Lord 
 Bute became predominant, and after a struggle to maintain 
 their places for some time, the whole of the former adminis- 
 tration seceded also, and peace was almost immediately con- 
 cluded between England and France. 
 
 Lord Granby, with the rest of the English forces returned 
 to England, where for some time he spent his days in tran- 
 quillity, mingling but little in the political strifes of the 
 time. Amidst the various changes, however, which took 
 place in the offices of state, though not selected for any 
 post of great importance, he was not forgotten, and seems 
 to have enjoyed a considerable portion of that unsubstantial 
 good — court favour. The want of that continual and active 
 exertion both of mind and body, which by long habit in 
 actual warfare becomes a necessity, has often driven old. 
 soldiers to a thousand of the minor vices, in the time of 
 peace. About this period of Lord Granby' s life we find 
 him accused of too great conviviality of disposition, or to 
 call it by a truer name — of addiction to excess in wine. 
 His good humour also was frequently imposed upon, and 
 perhaps deviated into too great facility ; but still he 
 retained his high character as a man and a soldier, as well 
 as the love and respect of the men he commanded. He was 
 a correct though not a severe disciplinarian, was minutely 
 acquainted with every particular of the service ; and, having 
 through the whole course of a long war distinguished him- 
 self greatly as a second in command, well deserved to be 
 tried in a still more elevated station. No officer in the 
 British service at that time had so many recommendations 
 to that office of commander-in-chief of the British forces 
 
■428 JOHK MANNERS, 
 
 as he had ; and whether it was consideration for his great 
 claims, or merely party influence which procured him that 
 appointment, he received the office in 1766, and continued 
 to exercise it under the administration of the duke of Grraf- 
 ton and Lord North. 
 
 At this time a multitude of follies and weaknesses — the 
 -approaching separation of our American colonies from the 
 mother country, the fury of party faction, and probably 
 the disappointment of individual ambition, called up an 
 anonymous writer, who, to the most potent virulence of 
 invective, added the most felicitous force of expression, the 
 fearlessness of secure concealment, the poignancy of minute 
 information, profound knowledge of constitutional law, con- 
 tempt of every human feeling, and the gift of magnifying 
 truth without the appearance of hyperbole. This writer on 
 the 25th of January, 1769, published a letter in the Fuhlic 
 Advertiser, under the happily assumed name of Junius, in 
 which he attacked the personal and political character of 
 every member of the ministry. Now that the prejudices of 
 the parties of that time have passed away, and that we can 
 judge the characters of the dead by facts and not assertions, 
 abstract justice may be done to those whom Junius slan- 
 dered ; but unfortunately, the magnificent record of his own 
 powers which his works afford, and the benefit which they 
 have produced to his country, withhold us from sufficiently 
 detesting the man who, for any motives, could make 
 calumny a profession, and win his reputation by bitterly 
 traducing his fellow-men. 
 
 Notwithstanding the immense and unequalled powers 
 that he displayed in one of the most difficult tasks on which 
 the human mind can exercise its faculties, the fame of 
 Junius is an unenviable one ; and as inferior to that of his 
 contemporary, Howard, as the fame of Milo the wrestler to 
 that of Trajan. Amongst the many virulent accusations 
 and biting sneers by w^hich the majestic truths of his first 
 letter are accompanied. Lord G-ranby, as forming a part of 
 the ministry whom he attacked, was not forgotten by Junius. 
 After noticing in the same manner all the other members 
 of the administration, he proceeds, " It has lately been a 
 fashion to pay a compliment to the bravery and generosity 
 of the commander-in-chief at the expense of his understand- 
 ing. They who love him least make no question of his 
 
MAEQriS OF GRANBT. 421> 
 
 courage, while his friends dwell chiefly on the facility of his 
 disposition. Admitting him to be as brave as a total 
 absence of all feeling and reflection can make him, let us 
 see what sort of merit he derives from the remainder of his 
 character. If it be generosity to accumulate in his own 
 person and family a number of lucrative employments ; to 
 provide, at the public expense, for every creature that bears 
 the name of Manners ; and neglecting the merit and ser- 
 vices of the rest of the army to heap promotions upon his 
 favourites and dependants — the present commander-in-chief 
 is the most generous man alive. Nature has been sparing 
 of her gifts to this noble lord ; but where birth and fortune 
 are united, we expect the noble pride and independence of 
 a man of spirit, not the servile humiliating complaisance of 
 a courtier. As to the goodness of his heart, if a proof of it 
 be taken from the facility of never refusing, what conclusion 
 shall we draw from the indecency of never performing ? 
 And if the discipline of the army be in any degree pre- 
 served, what thanks are due to a man whose cares, notori- 
 ously confined to filling up vacancies, have degraded the 
 office of commander-in-chief into a broker of commissions." 
 
 Such were the charges against Lord Granby produced by 
 Junius; and though assertions without any proof or in- 
 stance, especially from an unknown writer, cannot affect the 
 character of any one, yet it is worth while to remark that 
 the principal accusations brought by Junius, namely, the 
 neglect of the services and merit of the army in general, 
 the non-performance of all promises, and sole attention ta 
 the sale of commissions, is sufficiently refuted by the known 
 and universal love of the whole army for the person of 
 whom he spoke. The disingenuousness of attributing 
 courage to Lord G-ranby, only from want of all feeling and 
 reflection, requires hardly a comment. On the same prin- 
 ciple, Junius, who concealed his name while he aspersed 
 others, might argue that he himself was a man of feeling 
 because he was a coward. 
 
 The marquis of Granby himself took no notice of the 
 attack ; but one of the many whom the better parts of hi» 
 character had bound to him stood forward to defend him in 
 the eyes of the world. This was Sir William Draper ; and, 
 having heard the language of party hatred, let us mark the 
 character drawn by affectionate panegyric, first remarking^ 
 
430 JOHN MANNERS, 
 
 that Sir William Draper was himself a distinguished officer, 
 a classical scholar, and a gentleman. 
 
 " A very long, uninterrupted, impartial, and, I will add, a 
 most, disinterested friendship with Lord Granby," he writes, 
 "gives me a right to affirm, that all Junius's assertions are 
 false and scandalous. Lord Granby's. courage, though of 
 the brightest and most ardent kind, is amongst the lowest 
 of his numerous good qualities; he was formed to excel in 
 war by nature's liberality to his mind as well as person. 
 TJducated and instructed by his most noble father, and a 
 most spirited as well as excellent scholar, the present bishop 
 of Bangor, he was trained to the nicest sense of honour, and to 
 the truest and noblest sort of pride, that of never doing or 
 suffering a mean action. A sincere love and attachment to 
 his king and his country, and to their glory, first impelled 
 iiira to the field, where he never gained aught but honour. 
 He impaired through his bounty his own fortune : for his 
 bounty, which this writer would in vain depreciate, is 
 'founded upon the noblest of human affections — it flows 
 from a heart melting to goodness from the most refined 
 humanity. Can a man, who is described as unfeeling and 
 void of humanity, be constantly employed in seeking proper 
 •objects on whom to exercise those glorious virtues of com- 
 passion and generosity ? The distressed officer, the soldier, 
 the widow, the orphan, and a long list besides, know that 
 vanity has no share in his frequent donations : he gives 
 because he feels their distresses. JSTor has he ever been 
 rapacious with one hand to be bountiful with the other. 
 Yet this uncandid Junius would insinuate, that the dignity 
 of the commander-in-chief is depraved into the base office 
 of commission broker ; that is, Lord Granby bargains for 
 the sale of commissions : for it must have this meaning, if 
 it have any at all. But where is the man living who can 
 justly charge his lordship with such mean practices ? Why 
 does not Junius produce him ? Junius knows that he has 
 no other means of wounding this hero tlian by some missile 
 weapon, shot from an obscure corner. He seeks, as all 
 defamatory writers do — 
 
 • spargere voces 
 
 111 valgum ambiguas, 
 to raise a suspicion in the minds of the people. But I liope 
 
MAEQTJIS OF GEAl^BY. 431 
 
 that my countrymen will be no longer imposed upon by 
 artful and designing men, or by wretches, who, bankrupts 
 in business, in fame, and in fortune, mean nothing more 
 than to involve this country in the same common ruin 
 with themselves. Hence it is that they are constantly 
 aiming their dark and too often fatal weapons against 
 those who stand forth as the bulwark of our national 
 safety. Lord Grranby was too conspicuous a mark not to 
 be their object. 
 
 " He is next attacked for being unfaithful to his promises 
 and engagements. Where are Junius's proofs ? Although 
 I could give some instances where a breach of promise 
 would be a virtue, especially in the case of those who would 
 pervert the open unsuspecting moments of convivial mirth 
 into sly insidious applications for preferment or party 
 systems, and would endeavour to surprise a good man, who 
 •cannot bear to see any one leave him dissatisfied, into 
 unguarded promises. Lord Granby's attention to his own 
 family and relations is called selfish. Had he not attended 
 to them when fair and just opportunities presented them- 
 selves I should have thought him unfeeling, and void of 
 reflection indeed. How are any man's friends and relations 
 to be provided for but from the influence and protection of 
 the patron ? It is unfair to suppose that Lord Granby's 
 friends have not as much merit as the friends of any other 
 great man. If he is generous at the public expense, as 
 Junius invidiously calls it, the public is at no more 
 expense for his lordship's friends than it would be if any 
 other set of men possessed those offices. The charge is 
 ridiculous." 
 
 Such was the character of the marquis of Granby, as 
 drawn by the hand of friendship ; and his defence by an 
 able and intelligent officer, who further went on to appeal 
 to existing facts, in order to prove that the army under the 
 chief command of that nobleman was in as good a state, if 
 not a better one, than it had ever been. Erom the beauty 
 of the portrait, as given by Sir William Draper, we must of 
 course take away something on account of the partiality of 
 friendship and the desire of pleasing a person much beloved ; 
 but still such commendations would hardly have been ven- 
 tured in the face of the public, had they not been founded 
 m some degree ; for, unfortunately, constituted as the world 
 
432 JOHN MANNERS, 
 
 is at present, abuse may always be sent out into it mucb 
 more safely than praise, certain that the one will always 
 find patrons and propagators, while the other is too often 
 suffered to drop into oblivion. 
 
 To the letter of Sir William Draper, Junius replied as a 
 giant contending with a child. There seems to have been 
 in his feelings a degree of satisfied virulence in the oppor- 
 tunity afibrded him of impaling Sir William Draper on the 
 same stake vrith which he had transfixed his friend, v^hich 
 made the beginning of his letter almost polite. In the 
 course of it, however, he found himself obliged to shuffle or 
 retract, notwithstanding the immense command of language 
 which gave him the power of rendering his attack dreadfully 
 potent without being clearly defined. The words he had 
 formerly used, saying that Lord G-ranby had " degraded the 
 office of commander-in-chief into a broker of commissions," 
 could but have one straightforward meaning ; yet Junius in 
 his second letter declares, " I acquit him of the baseness of 
 selling commissions." He is also under the necessity of 
 receding so far from his assertion in regard to the ruined 
 state of the army, as to acknowiedge that the portion of it 
 which was in England was " perhaps in some tolerable 
 order." Ey one of those bold falsehoods, also, which 
 generally convince the weak, and often stagger the more 
 discriminating reader, he assumes that Sir William Draper 
 had admitted that "Lord Granby often made promises 
 which it was a virtue in him to violate," though his oppo- 
 nent had but asserted that there might be such things as 
 promises which it would be proper to break, without 
 granting at all that Lord Granby was in the habit of 
 making them. 
 
 Junius then turned his attack upon Sir William Draper 
 personally, and the subject of Lord Granby was soon after 
 dropped by his opponent, it is said at the express desire of 
 the marquis himself. On this subject it is only necessary 
 further to remark, that Junius, though sufficiently willing 
 to bring forward proofs and individual instances of miscon- 
 duct, wherever it was in his power to do so, confined himself 
 to general assertions in regard to Lord Granby, though 
 frequently called upon by Sir William Draper to substan- 
 tiate his accusation. Secure in the cloud with which he 
 
MAEQnS OP GEANBT. 433 
 
 Lad involved his person, he dared to make any charge that 
 might injure his political opponents, certain that the powers 
 of his mind, and the vigour of his style, would drive the 
 dagger home even through the shield of truth : but he 
 dared not at once be both false and circumstantial. 
 
 A degree of remorse seems to have touched the mind of 
 Junius in regard to Lord Granby, after the death of that 
 nobleman. In the collection of the famous letters, with 
 notes by Junius himself, the following observation is 
 appended by the author to the seventh letter : — " Sir "Wil- 
 liam Draper certainly drew Junius forward to say more of 
 Lord Granby' s character than he originally intended. He 
 was reduced to the dilemma of either being totally silenced 
 or of supporting his first letter. Whether Sir William had 
 a right to reduce him to this dilemma, or to call upon him 
 for his name, after a voluntary attack on his side, are 
 questions submitted to the candour of the public. 
 
 " The death of Lord Granby was lamented by Junius. He 
 undoubtedly owed some compensations to the public, and 
 seemed determined to acquit himself of them. In private 
 life he was unquestionably that good man who, for the 
 interest of his country, ought to have been a great one. 
 Bonum virum facile dixeris ; magnum lihenter, I speak of 
 him now without partiality: I never spoke of him with 
 resentment. His mistakes in public conduct did not arise 
 either from want of sentiment or want of judgment, but in 
 general from the difficulty of saying ' no ' to the bad people 
 who surrounded him.'* 
 
 If this was the real character of Lord Granby, that put 
 forth of him in the first letters of Junius was an infamous 
 falsehood ; and political writers should remember, that it is 
 as base, as degrading, as criminal, to traduce an honourable 
 man for the interests of party, as it is for the mean consider- 
 ation of money. Had the atonement made by Junius been 
 complete, I should have ofiered no further observations upon 
 his accusation ; but it was not complete, and after having 
 attacked him as a military man, he did not do him justice 
 as such. The conduct of the marquis of Granby, however, 
 while commanding the British forces in Germany, needs no 
 defence. He gained honour in every field ; in every endea- 
 vour he was successful ; and when peace put a termination 
 
 2 F 
 
434 JOHN MANNEES. 
 
 to the operations of the army under his command, he led 
 it back to England crowned with glory and victory. 
 
 The letters of Junius gave him considerable pain — the 
 more, perhaps, because he had never been strongly attached 
 to Lord North's administration. Shortly after their first 
 appearance, he resigned his command ; and on quitting the 
 ministry, animadverted very severely on some of their 
 measures. This was his last public act. His health was 
 at this time considerably shaken, and on the 19fch of 
 October, 1770, he died at Scarborough, in the fiftieth year 
 of his age. 
 
435 
 
 GENEEAL WOLFE. 
 
 Born in 1726 — Promising as a boy — Enters the army — ^The army he 
 first served in defeated at the battle of Laffelt — Distinguishes himself 
 — During peace studies his profession earnestly — Commands under 
 Sir John Mordaunt against Eochefort, and gains reputation — Under 
 General Amherst at Louisbourg, 1758, that place being captured 
 principally by his bravery, skill, and exertions — Great honours at 
 home — Sent by Mr. Pitt against Quebec, in 1759 — After overcoming 
 great difficulties, the object of the enterprise is gained, but with the 
 loss of the young general — Great results of the victory — Honours 
 justly paid to his memory. 
 
 I BELIEVE that no contemporary account of General 
 "Wolfe exists. At all events I have not been able to meet 
 with any ; and therefore, though in regard to the many 
 public transactions in which he mingled, no materials are 
 wanting for his biography, the particulars of his private 
 life* seem difficult to be procured. Born in a rank of 
 society where no facilities were wanting for his education, 
 and in a family whose interest was sufficient to uphold his 
 merit, though not to push him forward without talent; 
 James "Wolfe was placed by fortune, perhaps in the happiest 
 situation it is possible to conceive for cultivating his abilities 
 and distinguishing his name. 
 
 He was the son of Lieutenant-general Edward Wolfe, and 
 was brought into the world at Westerham in Kent, in the year 
 1726. His infancy passed without record, and of his early 
 education I do not know the details. The only information 
 which I have been able to collect from any authentic source 
 concerning the first development of his character, repre- 
 sents him as having very soon shown extraordinary quick- 
 ness of comprehension, and an extremely retentive memory. 
 
 * Since writing the above, I have learned that a very superior pen 
 to mine is about to be employed on a life of Wolfe, and I therefore 
 cannot regret that the following sketch has been rendered so brief by 
 ^he paucity of materials. 
 
 2 P 2 
 
436 GENEEAL WOLFE. 
 
 As a boy he was always prompt and active, and though keen 
 of apprehension and ready in action, had withal that calm 
 steadiness of purpose which is generally the concomitant of 
 a slower disposition. At a very early period of his life he 
 made choice of the same profession in which his father had 
 long moved with honour, and from that time devoted 
 himself with the utmost assiduity to gain a thorough know- 
 ledge of the science of war. As soon as it was possible, a 
 commission was procured for him in the army, and before 
 he had reached twenty years of age, he was engaged with 
 the duke of Cumberland in the war in the Low Countries. 
 
 On the 21st of June, 1747, he fought at the unfortunate 
 battle of Laffelt near Maestricht, where the left wing of 
 the allied armies was defeated, and Sir John Ligonier 
 made prisoner. The young soldier, however, distinguished 
 iimself so highly, that he called the attention and received 
 the thanks of the commander-in-chief, and went on from 
 that period rising rapidly in his profession. The honour 
 and reputation which he obtained proceeded more quickly 
 than his preferment ; and on signature of the pacific treaty 
 at the end of 1748, he was, at the age of twenty-three, one 
 of the most distinguished officers in the British service. 
 
 The life of a great commander can hardly be written 
 without some detail of the political events which called his 
 talents into action, and therefore, even at the risk of tedious- 
 ness, a light sketch must be given here of the rise of that 
 war in which General "Wolfe fought, distinguished himself,. 
 and fell. 
 
 The peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, granted by all parties with 
 the sole view of regaining strength by repose, soon drew 
 towards a close. Nor indeed were hostilities ever totally 
 suspended, for both in the West Indies and on the frontier 
 ot Nova Scotia, acts of aggression were continually com- 
 mitted between the French and English local governments, 
 while incessant wranglings were the consequences of those 
 acts at home. The greater part of 1755 was spent in pre- 
 parations for general war ; and while a considerable fleet 
 was sent to the coast of America, immense efforts were made 
 m Germany to raise a coalition in opposition to the designs 
 jf France and Spain. Little could be effected, however, by 
 Great Britain. The faith of treaties is proverbial ; and all 
 the allies of Ene:land hesitated in the fulfilment of their 
 
GENtHAL WOLFE. 437 
 
 -engagements, while Prance raised her naval power, in- 
 creased her armies, and not only threatened, but struck, 
 many a blow which weakened her enemy and strengthened 
 herself, both by their physical effect, and by the power of 
 reputation. 
 
 Thus passed nearly two years, nominally in peace ; but 
 never yet was there a peace which bore so much the aspect 
 of war, which left the world so little in repose, or which 
 produced so little real benefit to mankind. 
 
 Nevertheless, the space of time which was thus consumed 
 brought forth many a revolution in the interests of Euro- 
 pean states, and was fruitful in excuses for breach of faith 
 and contempt of treaties. Austria and Hungary, in whose 
 alliance, and for whose best interests, England had fought 
 during the whole of the former war, now leagued with 
 Erance against her ; and Prussia, after misunderstandings 
 innumerable, became the great ally of Britain on the 
 Continent. 
 
 Eor nearly a year, while America remained the scene of 
 the most disgraceful outrages, while mercenary motives 
 were held out to give the most barbarous character to hos- 
 tility, and while premiums were paid by a European govern- 
 ment for Indian scalps, the monarchs of the old world 
 were protesting their desires for peace, though they were 
 thirsting for war, and pretending to respect their former 
 alliances, while they were machinating the ruin of their 
 allies. The siege and taking of Minorca by the Erench, 
 which was followed by the tragedy of Admiral Byng, 
 'together with innumerable acts of open aggression on both 
 .parts, ushered the war into Europe ; and at length, what 
 had long been in existence, was openly announced by royal 
 proclamation. 
 
 At this period every thing appeared in the most un- 
 favourable state for England; and all her endeavours in 
 America and Europe had been equally unsuccessful. 
 Erance had triumphed by land, and boldly disputed our 
 superiority at sea ; Spain naturally leaned towards the inte- 
 rests of Erance ; and England, governed by a weak, dilatory, 
 and timid ministry, was foiled in her military efforts, and 
 baffled in her negotiations. The continental operations 
 of Erance were evidently destined against the electoral 
 dominions of the king of England^ and the preparations 
 
438 GENEEAL WOLFE. 
 
 made by the erapress queen of Hungary, were also clearly 
 intended for the recovery of Silesia, which had been wrung 
 from her by the king of Prussia, and ceded unwillingly by 
 the treaty of Dresden. But the activity of that monarch 
 disconcerted the measures of his enemy, and marching an 
 army into Saxony, he at once removed the seat of war from 
 his own dominions. "While he thus assumed the offensive in 
 that quarter, he collected two considerable armies in Silesia, 
 one of which, under the command of Prince Ferdinand of 
 Brunswick, menaced the frontier of Bohemia ; but at the 
 same time that prince received orders to advance to Gros 
 Kugel, and then, turning off upon Leipsic, to take pos- 
 session of that city : after which, by marching along the 
 Elbe, he might get in the rear of the Saxon forces, cut them 
 off from their supplies, and prevent their junction with the 
 Austrian contingent. This plan was perfectly successful ; 
 but as it was a most notorious outrage upon the country 
 of a neutral prince, it instantly called upon the king of 
 Prussia a hostile declaration from almost all the powers of 
 Europe. 
 
 Confident in his own resources and his military genius, 
 Erederic, however, proceeded without fear or hesitation. 
 The whole of Saxony was overrun and conquered ; the 
 Saxon army encamped near Lilienstein was forced to surren- 
 der ; and committing every sort of insolent injustice with the 
 most consummate skill, the Prussian monarch opened the 
 war with complete success. In the following campaign^ 
 pursuing the same bold measures, he advanced into Bohe- 
 mia, defeated the Austrians near Prague, and laid siege to 
 that city. 
 
 At this period first appeared the celebrated Count Daun 
 in the character of commander-in-chief, and collecting the 
 scattered remains of the Austrian forces, he gathered toge- 
 ther a sufficient army near Kolin, to effect a diversion in 
 favour of Prague. The king of Prussia instantly marched 
 to attack him, fought and was defeated. The siege of 
 Prague was immediately raised, and Erederic retreated in 
 haste upon Pirna. 
 
 In the mean time an army of observation had been col- 
 lected on the frontiers of Hanover, to oppose the Erench, 
 whose purpose of invading that part of the empire had long 
 been sufficiently apparent. This army, however, under the 
 
GENERAL WOLEE. 439 
 
 command of the duke of Cumberland, could effect nothing 
 in presence of the superior Trench forces, led by the duke 
 de Eichelieu ; and after being forced to retreat to Stade, a 
 convention was signed by the English commander, by which 
 he agreed to pass the Elbe with the Hanoverian forces, 
 while all the auxiliary corps which formed the strength of 
 his army were sent to their respective countries. 
 
 Some time previous to this event a change had taken 
 place in the British ministry, and Mr. Pitt, famous as Lord 
 Chatham, had infused a great degree of vigour and activity 
 . into the administration. On his receiving office, he found 
 the affairs of Grermany in a very unpromising situation ; 
 while France, with immense armies all directed upon one 
 point, overran the whole of "Westphalia, and the Austrians 
 pressed the king of Prussia in front. A force sufficiently 
 large to oppose with success the troops of Erance in Grer- 
 many, would have taken an immense time to collect and 
 to bring into activity ; but a much smaller army might serve 
 by some sudden attack upon Erance itself, either to gain 
 some important post if unopposed, or create such a diver- 
 sion in favour of the king of Prussia, as would enable him 
 to extricate himself from his very perilous situation. 
 
 This was represented to the ministry, and the plan was 
 immediately embraced. Much, however, depended upon 
 the choice of the spot destined to be the object of attack ; 
 for of course, whether the purpose were to acquire a por- 
 tion of territory, or to effect a diversion, it was necessary 
 that the point of assault should be sufficiently important to 
 merit a struggle and to repay endeavour, and yet sufficiently 
 weak to promise success to the assailants, and rouse the 
 fears of the possessors. 
 
 As immense efforts had been made by Louis XY., to raise 
 up the naval power of Erance to an equality with that of Eng- 
 land ; and as, under an inefficient administration in London, 
 those efforts had been found but too successful, it became 
 one of the first objects of Mr. Pitt to strike at the growing 
 navy of the Erench monarch, by the annihilation of some 
 of those ports from which so many fleets had lately issued 
 forth against Grreat Britain. 
 
 Brest and Pochefort had been for some time the two 
 principal towns from which the armaments of Erance had 
 been poured into the British Channel ; and, as the natural 
 
440 GENEEAL WOLFE. 
 
 advantages and skilful fortifications of the former ren- 
 dered attack difficult and success impossible, the attention 
 of the ministry was turned strongly towards Eochefort. 
 Their determination was fixed by the report of a Captain 
 'IJlerk, who had visited that city, and declared the fortifica- 
 tions to be very insufficient in themselves, as well as totally 
 out of repair ; and immediate preparations were made for 
 a naval and military expedition against that city. 
 
 Great precautions and deliberations promised success to 
 the undertaking ; and an immense mass of information was 
 obtained, both from Captain Clerk, and a !French pilot, of 
 the name of Thiery. The most experienced officers in the 
 service were consulted, and amongst the rest Colonel James 
 Wolfe, who, since the conclusion of the late war, had re- 
 mained without employment in any very distinguished situa- 
 tion, but by no means inactive. His time had been spent 
 in introducing the most exact discipline into Kingsley's 
 regiment, of which he had been appointed lieutenant-colonel; 
 and mingling kindness, generosity, and humanity, with im- 
 mense personal activity and scrupulous justice, he had suc- 
 ceeded in his endeavour to an extraordinary extent, at a time 
 when the British forces were more celebrated for their cou- 
 rage than their regularity and subordination. His efibrts in 
 these respects had not passed without notice ; and Mr. Pitt, 
 one of whose great qualities it was to call latent talent into 
 activity, marked and estimated the abilities of "Wolfe, and 
 brought him forward into the sphere in which he was most 
 calculated to shine. 
 
 Wolfe was amongst those appointed to the expedition 
 against Eochefort ; but his rank in the army not permitting 
 him to hold any distinct command, he served under General 
 Sir John Mordaunt, to whom the chief control of the army 
 was entrusted. The fleet, consisting of sixteen sail of the 
 line, and several smaller vessels, was commanded by Admiral 
 Hawke ; and the preparations on all parts justified the most 
 sanguine expectations. About ten thousand men were col- 
 lected at the Isle of Wight, and the whole arrangements 
 of the fleet were complete ; but the transports, by some un- 
 accountable neglect, did not arrive for a considerable time 
 after every thing else was in readiness, and the expedition 
 was still at Portsmouth on the Vth of September, 1757. 
 
 Secrecy and haste were the two great requisites for the 
 
GENEEAL AVOLFE. 441 
 
 (Success of the enterprise ; but delay, besides being detri- 
 mental in itself, brought publicity also ; and the French 
 were not only apparently well aware of the preparations of 
 England, but also of the point of attack. 
 
 On the 22nd of September the fleet anchored in safety 
 in Basque Eoads. After some further time had been lost 
 by calms and baffling winds, the fort on the island of 
 Aix was battered and taken by the squadron under Admiral 
 Knowles ; and the fortifications were afterwards destroyed. 
 During the attack, Colonel "Wolfe, who acted as quarter- 
 master-general, proceeded, with the permission of his com- 
 'mander-in-chief, to examine the coast ; and on hh return, 
 laid down a plan for pursuing the purposes of the expedi- 
 tion, which, as far as we can now judge, would have proved • 
 successful, had it been adopted at once, and followed with 
 energy. 
 
 Even at the time, it appeared so feasible to both the 
 commanders, that their approbation was given ; and it 
 seemed decided that some of the vessels of war were to be 
 sent to batter Fort Fouras, which commanded the best land- 
 ing-place, while the land forces effected their disembarkation. 
 A council of war was, however, called, when a variety of new 
 apprehensions and difficulties were discovered or created ; 
 and doubts were even started, whether the expedition 
 had been intended to make a regular attack upon Eoche- 
 fort, or any other place of equal strength. Dangers, it 
 appeared, were likely to attend the re-embarkation of the 
 troops in case of failure. Obstacles were minutely calcu- 
 lated. What boldness might achieve was forgotten, and 
 the principal object of the expedition was abandoned. Still 
 a variety of vague schemes for effecting something kept the 
 fleet for some time on the French coast ; till at length Sir 
 Edward Hawke, finding that Sir John Mordaunt and his • 
 <;ouncil of war despaired of producing any benefit by land- 
 ing, hoisted sail and returned to England. 
 
 Indignation spread through the whole country, and the 
 •cry became so general that a board of officers was appointed 
 to inquire into the conduct of the commanders of the expe- 
 dition. That board decided that the cause of failure had 
 been in not attacking Fort Fouras by sea, while the troops 
 ^effected their landing. This had been the plan of proceeding 
 laid down by Colonel "Wolfe ; and therefore, while severe 
 
442 GENEEAL WOLFE. 
 
 censure fell upon Sir John Mordaunt, tliougli a court-mar- 
 tial acquitted him of guilt, the character of the inferior officer 
 rose by comparison with the weak, undecisive mind of the 
 commander-in-chief. 
 
 The attention of the nation was now fixed upon General 
 Wolfe ; and the current of events was hurrying rapidly 
 towards that point where his brief career of glory and 
 greatness may be said to have opened. In America the 
 aspect of British aifairs had not been less unfavourable than 
 in Europe. A gallant and enterprising officer, the cele- 
 brated Montcalm, was now rapidly turning the succession of 
 petty aggressions by which the war had begun on the part 
 of Erance into an extensive and successful system of hos- 
 tility. Unhappily for human nature and his own fame, 
 Montcalm was one of the greatest encouragers of that 
 fearful alliance with the Indians, which mingled the horrid 
 aggravations of savage with the extended means of civilized 
 warfare. Amongst many of the Indian tribes he was per- 
 sonally popular to an extraordinary degree, and the small 
 army of Europeans with which he at first commenced his 
 operations, was constantly accompanied by an immense force 
 of savages, fierce, wild, and blood-thirsty, regarding the in- 
 fliction of death and torture as sport, unrestrained by law, 
 and unknown to clemency. His first operations were- 
 directed against Ontario and Oswego, two forts which had 
 been hurriedly constructed for the defence of the northern 
 possessions of the British in America ; and these, by strong 
 and masterly measures on his own part, opposed by feeble 
 and ill-concerted efforts on the part of the British officers, 
 were taken with little difficulty or loss. The next attempt 
 was upon Eort William Henry, situated on Lake G-eorge y 
 but after three successive efforts to storm, the French were 
 obliged to abandon their endeavour ; and a demonstration 
 made by Lord Loudun upon Louisbourg, called their 
 attention and diverted their endeavours for a time. 
 
 Erom want of union and activity. Lord Loudun' s enter- 
 prise proved as unsuccessful as all the many schemes of the- 
 English during the early part of this war ; and as soon as 
 the apprehensions of the Erench on that side were removed, 
 Monsieur de Montcalm once more turned his arms against 
 Eort William Henry. With an army of ten thousand 
 men, including an immense proportion of Indians, be- 
 
GENERAL WOLEE. 44B 
 
 advanced upon that fortress, and invested it in form, Gene- 
 ral Webb, the officer commanding the Anglo-American 
 army, retreating before him with precipitation very near 
 akin to flight. Colonel Monro, however, with a strong gar- 
 rison and plentiful supplies, remained in the fort ; but the 
 fortifications had been neglected ; many of the cannon 
 were unfit for service ; and though the place was tenable 
 for quite sufficient time to permit General Webb to have 
 marched to its relief, it was evident that it could not hold 
 out many days. Colonel Monro did his duty as far as it 
 was possible, and displayed great energy and courage in 
 . defence of his post. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, before the end of the fourth day^. 
 all the artillery of the fortress had burst, except four small 
 cannon and a howitzer ; yet still the defence was kept up in 
 expectation of succour from General Webb, who had re- 
 treated for the purpose of raising the militia of the pro- 
 vince. Nevertheless, his movements were so slow, and the 
 progress of the enemy so rapid, that by the sixth day of the 
 siege the place was scarcely tenable ; and a letter from 
 Webb, intercepted by the marquis of Montcalm, and for- 
 warded to the commander of the fort, decided his purpose 
 of capitulating. The letter admitted of no doubt, and it 
 was to the following efiect ; — 
 
 *' FoET Edwaed, August 4, 12 at noon, 
 " SiE, — I am directed by General Webb to acknowledge the receipt 
 of three of your letters, two bearing date nine o'clock yesterday morn- 
 ing, and one about six in the evening, by two rangers, which are the 
 only men who have got in here ; except two yesterday morning with 
 your first, acquainting him that the enemy were in sight. He has 
 ordered me to acquaint you, he does not think it prudent (as you know 
 his strength at this place) to attempt a junction, or to assist you, till 
 reinforced by the militia of the colonies, for the immediate march of 
 which expresses have been sent. One of our scouts brought in a 
 Canadian prisoner last night from the investing party, which is very 
 large, and have possessed all the grounds five miles on this side of 
 Fort William Henry. The number of the enemy is very considerable ; 
 the prisoners say eleven thousand ; and have a large train of artillery 
 with mortars, and were to open their batteries this day. The general 
 thought proper to send you this intelligence, that in case he should be 
 so unfortunate, from the delays of the militia, not to have it in his 
 power to give you timely assistance, you might be able to make the 
 best terms left in your power. The bearer is a sergeant of the Con- 
 necticut forces ; and if he is happy enough to get in, will bring advices 
 
•'444 GENERAL WOLFE. 
 
 from you. We keep continual scouts going, to endeavour to get in, or 
 to bring intelligence from you. I am, Sir, with the heartiest and most 
 anxious wishes for your welfare, 
 
 *' Your most obedient humble servant, 
 
 " G. Bartman, Aide-de-camp." 
 
 This curious composition was not sufficiently faulty in 
 grammar to leave a doubt of G-eneral Webb's determination to 
 abandon the fort to its fate ; and Colonel Monro accordingly 
 capitulated on the most honourable conditions. The marquis 
 of Montcalm received the fort, and the garrison marched 
 •out; but, by what mismanagement it is difficult to say, the 
 Indians of the French army were suffered to fall upon the 
 gallant though unsuccessful defenders of Port William 
 Henry, and a tragedy took place too horrible to relate in its 
 details. Thirteen hundred men, besides a multitude of 
 women and children, were butchered, with every aggravation 
 of savage cruelty, and a deed was recorded on the page of 
 history which the annals of the world can never match in 
 barbarity. To cast the whole blame of this horrid cruelty 
 on Montcalm would be unjust ; for doubtless it was not his 
 intention to deliver over his unhappy opponents to butchery 
 by his savage allies: but wholly to exculpate him would 
 be equally unjust ; for he should not have granted a capi- 
 tulation that he was not able to maintain, and should have • 
 died himself rather than endanger the security of men, 
 whose trust was in his honour, and in the law of nations. 
 
 At this period the French power was predominant in 
 America ; and the loss of the whole British dominions 
 appeared the inevitable result. The proposed expedition of 
 Lord Loudun and Admiral Holbourne had entirely failed ; 
 and the possession of the greater lakes, together with the 
 friendship of the principal Indian tribes, gave the French 
 complete command of the country. An attack upon Louis- 
 bourg, however, still occupied the attention of the govern- 
 ment, and early in 1758 a better concerted scheme was 
 formed, and preparations on a greater scale were under- 
 taken. General Abercrombie was appointed commander- 
 in-chief of the land forces in America, but Admiral Bos- 
 cawen was intrusted with supreme authority in regard to the 
 expedition against Louisbourg itself Twenty-three ships 
 'of the line, and several frigates, formed the fleet ; and 
 .12,000 men, well officered and appointed, constituted the 
 
GENEEAL WO LEE. 44S' 
 
 army. The senior military officer in the expedition -was 
 General Amherst ; but amongst several other brigadier- 
 generals, General Wolfe was appointed to this service, and 
 sailed with the fleet, which arrived at Halifax on the 9th of 
 May, 1758. 
 
 No time was now lost. Admiral Boscawen himself was an 
 active and intelligent officer, and he had several others 
 under him, to prompt energy and to lead to action. As 
 soon as the stores were completed at Halifax, the fleet again 
 sailed for Louisbourg, and arrived ofl" Cape Breton on the 
 2nd of June. The place of landing proposed was Ga- 
 barus Bay, a convenient spot for the disembarkation of 
 troops, about seven leagues to the west of the city; but 
 upon its being reconnoitred by Generals "Wolfe and Lau- 
 rence, it was found to be defended by a strong line of the 
 enemy's posts and batteries, extending along the coast to- 
 the extreme point of the bay. These unfavourable circum- 
 stances raised hesitation and alarm in the minds of many 
 of the officers; and the event of the expedition against 
 Eochefort might have followed that against Louisbourg, had 
 not the character of Boscawen himself been of decided and 
 active nature. After waiting for several days on account of 
 the weather, the disembarkation was commanded in a cove, 
 since called Kennington Cove, which was defended by two 
 batteries and an intrenched camp. Besides these fortifica- 
 tions, all the landing-places had been furnished with a 
 breast-work, mounting both heavy cannon and large swivels, 
 and maintained by about 3,000 men ; while the sides of the 
 cove, flanked with artillery, were masked by an immense 
 number of trees, so arranged as to offer an almost impene- 
 trable barrier of branches to the attacking force, while they 
 permitted the fire of the defending party to tell with severe 
 effect upon the boats and point of disembarkation. 
 
 The British forces were disposed in three divisions. The 
 first, under General Laurence, was destined to attempt a 
 disembarkation in the cove ; another body, commanded by 
 General Whitmore, was directed to divert the enemy's 
 efforts by a feigned landing on the right; while General 
 Wolfe endeavoured to effect a real disembarkation on the 
 left. The troops under his orders consisted principally of 
 two distinct classes of soldiers, which that war had called up,, 
 and which were unknown in any other country : these wera> 
 
446 GENERAL WOLFE. 
 
 the American light infantry — a corps of marksmen dressed 
 so as to pass through the woods as easily and secretly as 
 possible, in light green or blue jackets and pantaloons, 
 with large ruffs of bear skin round their necks ; and the 
 company of rangers — an irregular body of bold and reckless 
 men, practised in the desultory warfare of the woods, fearless 
 of themselves, and unsparing towards others. Besides 
 these, however, General Wolfe was supported by a High- 
 land regiment, and a regiment of grenadiers. 
 
 The boats collected about four o'clock under the guns of 
 the fleet ; and very soon, supported by a tremendous can- 
 nonade from the principal ships of war, they rowed off 
 towards the shore. Almost as soon as they came within 
 musket-shot, the batteries opened upon them so severe a fire, 
 especially through the forest- work to the left, against which 
 General "Wolfe was advancing, that he was obliged to 
 abandon the attempt on that point, and row towards the 
 right of the cove. Notwithstanding the shower of grape 
 and red-hot shot with which the enemy assailed them, 
 Wolfe found his men undaunted, and eager to land ; and he 
 himself, cheering them on, declared his intention to force 
 his way wherever the boats could touch without being sunk. 
 At length, on a rocky shore a little to the right of the cove, 
 a handful of the light infantry effected their landing ; and 
 Wolfe himself, springing into the midst of a tremendous surf, 
 rushed on to take advantage of this first success. Such an 
 example is never lost upon an army. The soldiers followed, 
 in contempt of every danger and difficulty ; a great many 
 boats were stove and upset by the very hurry and eager- 
 ness of the men. But the landing had commenced; the 
 other generals and the rest of the army followed to the 
 spot ; regiment after regiment was disembarked ; every 
 difficulty of a rocky coast and a steep ascent was overcome ; 
 and the English rushed on upon the French lines, with the 
 excitement of fresh triumph and the confidence of coming 
 success. 
 
 The [French had relied upon the natural and artificial 
 defences of the coast to prevent the landing of an enemy ; 
 but when they found that enemy overcoming difficulties 
 which they had fancied insuperable, and, flushed with 
 fortunate endeavour, pouring in upon them with redoubled 
 ardour, discouragement and panic seized them, and after a 
 
GENEEAL WOLFE. 447 
 
 very short struggle, they abandoned their entrenchments, 
 and fled to the woods. Pursuit, however, followed them ; 
 and, while one division of the army kept the ground and 
 secured the sea-coast, Q-enerals "Wolfe and Laurence swept 
 the country with their troops, and drove the French out of 
 the forests and morasses in which they had sought shelter, 
 till the cannon of Louisbourg put a stop to the chase at ten 
 o'clock on the following morning. The woods and open 
 grounds being thus alike clear, the whole army advanced 
 upon the city, the commander of which, finding himself 
 about to undergo a regular siege, destroyed the buildings 
 round about, and as far as possible, laid the country 
 waste. 
 
 The fortifications of Louisbourg were remarkably strong ; 
 and the nature of the soil — which, being of a soft and 
 marshy character, rendered the approaches difficult — as 
 well as the rocky shore, the strong surf over which often 
 cut off the communication between the besieging army and 
 fleet, added natural advantages to the artificial strength of 
 the place. The garrison consisted of about three thousand 
 men ; and five French ships of the line lay in the harbour. 
 At the same time, a considerable force in Canada was 
 always near, to relieve the place or to annoy the assailants. 
 The siege, therefore, promised to be one of considerable 
 difficulty and duration ; and, prior to any other measure, 
 the British camp was fortified with redoubts and epaul- 
 ments, to guard against attack. The first movement of any 
 importance was the detachment of Greneral Wolfe, with 
 about two thousand men, to proceed round the northern 
 harbour, and attack a projecting neck of land, on which a 
 lighthouse had been erected. This point commanded a 
 small island battery, which gave considerable annoyance to 
 the besiegers; but, though slightly fortified itself, it was 
 abandoned on the approach of G-eneral Wolfe, who instantly 
 raised batteries upon it, from which he silenced the fire 
 from the island. The ships in the harbour, however, still 
 kept up a continual cannonade on the English camp ; and 
 to fortify the town on the water-side, the commanding 
 officer caused several small vessels to be sunk at the mouth 
 of the port, so as to guard against the possibility of an 
 entrance being effected by the British fleet. 
 
 At the same time he did everything that was in his 
 
448 GENERAL WOLFE. 
 
 power to weaken the enemy's force, and to retard the works- 
 which, under the active management of Wolfe, were each 
 day pushed forward farther against the town. By the 13th 
 of the month, the approaches had advanced within six 
 hundred and fifty yards of the town, and Greneral Wolfe 
 erected four batteries to batter in breach, and a mortar 
 battery ; while, pushing forward with unceasing energy, he 
 reached a line of heights which commanded the, harbour, 
 and there effected a lodgment, notwithstanding the most 
 severe fire which the army had yet encountered. Whether 
 by the shells from this position, or from some accident, it is 
 now impossible to ascertain, but a few days after these 
 heights had been gained, one of the men-of-war - in the 
 harbour blew up, and the two nearest took fire and burned 
 to the water's edge. Not long afterwards, the bombard- 
 ment produced the same effect in the citadel ; and the twe 
 remaining French men-of-war being attacked by the boats 
 of the English fleet, one was taken and the other burned. 
 Several practicable breaches were now apparent, the defences 
 of the place were ruined, no possibility existed of its holding 
 out much longer, and no succours seemed likely to arrive. 
 Under these circumstances, the Chevalier de Drucour, who 
 commanded in the town, feeling that he had done his duty 
 to the utmost, and that further resistance would be a cruel 
 waste of human life, proposed to capitulate, and endeavoured 
 to obtain leave to march out with the honours of war. This^ 
 however, was refused by Admiral Boscawen, as the state to 
 which the defences were reduced did not admit of resist- 
 ance ; and the garrison were in consequence obliged to 
 surrender at discretion, the governor at the same time 
 giving up the two islands of Cape Breton and St. John's, 
 which had been united under his command. 
 
 This stroke entirely changed the face of the French affairs 
 in America ; but its influence in Europe was even greater ; 
 for the English nation, who had been formerly disgusted 
 with the very name of American warfare, where loss and 
 disgrace had alone attended our arms, now restored to con- 
 fidence in the measures pursued, were eager to follow up 
 victory and to improve success. Of the fate and glory of 
 G-eneral Wolfe also, this expedition was decisive. He had 
 first effected the landing ; to him had all the great measures 
 of the siege been entrusted ; and on him, in consequence. 
 
GENERAL WOLFE. 419 
 
 fell the honour of the triumph. His activity, his energy, 
 his courage, his skill, were in the mouth of every one ; and 
 the minister himself, prepossessed in his favour, had the 
 good sense to see that in this instance popular applause 
 was justified by individual merit. To Admiral Boscawen, as 
 commander-in-chief of the expedition, and one to whose able 
 and decisive measures much of its success was attributable, 
 the House of Commons passed a general vote of thanks ; 
 but the principal station in the next great effort against the 
 Trench in America was assigned to General Wolfe. During 
 the attack upon Louisbourg, a diversion had been effected in 
 favour of the army employed in that enterprise, by the march 
 of General Abercrombie upon Ticonderoga. Opposed by 
 Montcalm in person, Abercrombie had been defeated ; but 
 various detachments from his army had effected several im- 
 portant objects, and 'regained at least as much as former 
 misconduct and misfortune had lost. Though, in sketching 
 the life of an individual, I must not permit myself to wander 
 from the subject, the names of Eorbes and Bradstreet are 
 not to be passed over without honourable notice. The one, 
 by the most difficult march that perhaps ever was under- 
 taken, wrested from the Erench the key to Philadelphia, and 
 secured the frontier of that province ; and the other, by a 
 rapid and masterly movement, destroyed the French forts 
 and shipping which commanded the communication of Lake 
 Ontario and the St. Lawrence, and kept the communication 
 between Canada and the French forces in the south. 
 
 To pursue all these advantages, and finally to extinguish 
 the power of France in America, Mr. Pitt conceived th^ 
 great and masterly plan of carrying the war into CanadUi 
 and striking one vigorous and decisive blow for the very 
 capital of the enemy's western dominion. Situated on the 
 St. Lawrence, with a magnificent harbour, and facilities 
 which no other city in the world possesses, Quebec was 
 a conquest worthy of enterprise. At that time its fortifica- 
 tions were not strong ; but, as the possession of Quebec 
 would almost decide the long struggle between the two 
 crowns in America, it was natural to suppose that every 
 method would be taken to defend it. For the purpose of 
 insuring success to the operations against Quebec, General 
 Amherst, who was at New York, was directed to march 
 
 2 Gr 
 
450 GENERAL WOLFE. 
 
 against the ciby, endeavouring to make himself master of 
 Ticonderoga, while Greneral Prideaux afforded a diversion by 
 attacking Niagara and Montreal. At the same time General 
 "Wolfe, with as strong an army as could be spared, was 
 to sail from Europe to join in the attack of the Canadian 
 capital. 
 
 A fleet, consisting of twenty-one ships of the line, set sail 
 in the end of February, 1759, to convey General Wolfe and 
 an army of seven thousand men to the scene of action, and 
 to second the endeavours of the land forces. 
 
 On arriving at Louisbourg, the general rendezvous, how- 
 ever, the fleet found the coast so blocked up with ice, that 
 its destination was necessarily changed, and some time was 
 consumed at Halifax. In the mean while, no doubt existing 
 as to the purpose of the English preparations, every effort 
 was made by the French government to secure the capital 
 of their American dominion. Montcalm, whose arms had 
 always as yet been successful against the English^ had 
 marched down to Quebec, and intrenched himself, with 
 twelve thousand men, along the shores of the St. Lawrence, 
 with his right communicating with the town, and his left rest- 
 ing on the tremendous falls of the Montmorency. In front 
 every means was taken to strengthen his position, which 
 was naturally defended by an extensive sandbank in the 
 river; and his rear was guarded by thick woods, which 
 offered an impenetrable barrier. 
 
 Eresh reinforcements, provisions, and military stores, had 
 arrived in abundance from France ; and time had been 
 found for the construction of a number of gunboats and 
 floating batteries. Besides these, the port and city were 
 defended by two bastions and a demi-bastion, cut in the 
 rock ; with a citadel and a high battery of twenty-five guns ; 
 a variety of defences on the river St. Charles, which lay 
 between it and the intrenched camp of Montcalm ; and a 
 double tete-diL-pont, with several other works, to guard the 
 bridge of boats which formed the communication between 
 the city and the army. A number of other fortifica- 
 tions were constructed on the land side, and the steep 
 and irregular nature of the country added greatly to its 
 strength. 
 
 It was not till the 27th of June that the British army 
 0?/!7ed before Quebec; but by that time tho weather was 
 
GENEEAL WOLEE. 451 
 
 "^air, and their landing was effected without difficulty on the 
 Isle ot* Orleans, an island which divides the St. Lawrence a 
 few miles to the eastward of Quebec. General Wolfe then 
 proceeded to survey the ground ; but he found the fortifica- 
 tions of the city so much stronger than he had been led to 
 expect, the defending force so much superior to his antici- 
 pations, and the difficulties presented by the shores of the 
 river so great, that deep despondency seems to have taken 
 possession of his mind ; and his letters to Mr. Pitt breathe 
 feelings near akin to despair. JSTothing like despair, how- 
 •ever, appeared in his actions ; and from the moment of his 
 arrival he applied himself, with all the native energy of his 
 character, to overcome the unexpected obstacles that pre- 
 sented themselves. His first care was to secure possession 
 of the western point of the island, and of the banks of the 
 river opposite Quebec; which was effected, though not 
 without many attempts on the part of the French, both to 
 frustrate his operations by land, and to burn the fleet by 
 rafts of combustibles and fireships. 
 
 The activity of Wolfe, and the caution and vigilance of 
 Admiral Holmes, defeated every endeavour of the enemy; 
 and before the 1st of July, the British were firmly estab- 
 lished in the two points which they had chosen. JSTo news, 
 however, had arrived of General Amherst, on whose junction 
 with the forces of General Wolfe the government had calcu- 
 lated for success. The few troops that Wolfe had with him 
 seemed totally incompetent for the undertaking, and the 
 French governor of Canada very openly sneered at the petty 
 force with which Britain strove for the conquest of so 
 extensive a country. 
 
 With that self-confidence which genius generally pos- 
 sesses, and which has no affinity either to vanity or to rash- 
 ness, Wolfe determined to proceed in the attempt alone, 
 without waiting for aid which might be delayed till the 
 moment of fortune was past, and which, indeed, he never 
 expected in time. His first measures were to summon the 
 governor of Quebec, at the same time announcing that it 
 w^as the express command of the British monarch that the 
 Indian barbarities which had hitherto disgraced American 
 warfare should on no account be perpetrated by any forces 
 under his command, and demanding that the same orders 
 2 G 2 
 
452 OEKEEAL WOLrE. 
 
 might be given out to the French army and its auxiliaries. 
 He also published a proclamation^ addressed to the Canadian 
 colonists, assuring them of protection, as far as possible, in 
 their persons, property, and religion, if they remained quiet • 
 and he then immediately began the operations against 
 Quebec. 
 
 Point Levy, on which Wolfe had established a part of his 
 forces, was within range of Quebec, and batteries being 
 erected there with great speed, the lower town was soon 
 destroyed, and its defences ruined ; but the means of com- 
 munication with the upper town, which commanded it, were 
 so defensible, from the nature of the ground and the pre- 
 cautions of the enemy, that the English general- found 
 nothing would be gained by an attack upon the lower city, 
 even if successful, and therefore determined to draw the 
 forces of Montcalm into an action, if possible, as the only 
 means of reducing the place. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 9th of July, General Wolfe passed 
 his men from the island of Orleans to the mainland on the 
 enemy's left ; and took up a position only separated from 
 them by the river and falls of Montmorency. An attempt 
 was made to cut a path through the woods which covered 
 the rear of the Erench army, but that plan w^as found imprac- 
 ticable, and the party sent to reconnoitre were defeated and 
 slaughtered by the Indians. The next project entertained 
 was to cross the river Montmorency, and attack the marquis 
 de Montcalm in flank; but all the fords were found to be 
 so strongly defended, that no possibility of doing so ap- 
 peared without consequent defeat. 
 
 "Baffled in every point below the town, Wolfe now deter- 
 mined to attempt a landing above ; which must either have 
 given him a command of the place, or have drawn Mont- 
 calm out of his intrenchments for the purpose of defending 
 the capital. On the attempt being made, however, the 
 shore was found so guarded with precipices, and the enemy 
 so well prepared in that quarter also, that it was abandoned 
 as impracticable ; and Wolfe determined to risk all, and 
 attack the enemy in their intrenchments. Montcalm's 
 camp occupied the heights which ran along the shores of 
 the river ; but at the mouth of the Montmorency were twa 
 batteries, and upon a low bay, apparently out of musket- 
 shot of his main position, was a detached redoubt. "W v-Je 
 
OENEEAL WOLFE. 453 
 
 now determined upon endeavouring to make himself master 
 of this insulated post, hoping that the attack upon it might 
 •draw Montcalm out of his intrench ments to support it, and 
 thus bring on a general engagement. If, on the contrary, 
 that general abandoned it, the fords of the river would be 
 rendered comparatively easy, and the attack on his camp 
 greatly facilitated. 
 
 All was, in consequence, prepared for the attempt. The 
 army was divided into two bodies ; and while Wolfe himself 
 led the attack upon the redoubt, Greneral Townsend was 
 ordered to pass the ford whenever the other troops were 
 landed. * One of the men-of-war was stationed to cannonade 
 the battery which flanked the ford ; and the French in- 
 trenchments were at the same time enfiladed by the fire of 
 some pieces of artillery raised on the heights to the left of 
 the Montmorency. 
 
 Several causes, however, combined to defeat the attempt. 
 The redoubt was found to be commanded by the camp, 
 which had been supposed not to be the case. The boats 
 stuck upon a ledge of rock, which caused considerable delay 
 ;and confusion ; and when at length the landing was effected, 
 the grenadiers, who were first on shore, galled by the ene- 
 my's fire, instead of forming to attack, supported by the 
 regiments that followed, ran on at once in confusion upon 
 the intrenchments, and suffered dreadfully in consequence. 
 Before all these accidents could be remedied, it was too late 
 to pursue the attempt, and a retreat was ordered, which 
 Montcalm did not attempt to interrupt. "Wolfe returned 
 to his former position ; and it would now have seemed that 
 everything which courage, ingenuity, and even perseverance, 
 could do, had been done, to carry into execution the under- 
 taking with which he was charged. 
 
 But to those qualities which deserve success Wolfe joined 
 that strong determination of purpose which generally ob- 
 tains it ; and though the repeated checks that he had met 
 with, the fatigues he had undergone, and the difficulties he 
 had still to encounter, depressed his spirits, and even 
 severely affected his corporeal health, he resolved not to 
 give up the enterprise as long as a possibility remained of 
 carrying it to a happy conclusion. He sent despatches to 
 England, giving an account of all his efforts, and their want 
 of success ; and though all at home applauded his endea- 
 
451 GENERAL WOLFE. 
 
 vours, yet no sanguine expectations were entertained of 
 their result. 
 
 The project of a landing above the town was once more 
 entertained ; and though the opinion of almost all the offi- 
 cers was still influenced against it, by the aspect of the 
 heights which they had to surmount before they could gain 
 a defensible position, yet Wolfe determined upon the en- 
 deavour, and took every means for rendering it eflecfcual. 
 Several days were now employed in various manoeuvres for 
 deceiving the enemy, and transporting the troops towards 
 the spot destined for their general rendezvous. This was 
 some distance above the place intended for landing. A 
 movement was then made by the fleet, for the purpose of 
 blinding the ^French general to the true point of attack ; 
 and before daylight on the morning of the 12th September, 
 the troops, being embarked in flat-bottomed boats, began 
 dropping down with the tide towards Quebec; The divi- 
 sions of Generals Monkton and Murray were the first 
 which landed ; but their descent had been unobserved, and 
 the other regiments soon followed. The rapidity of the 
 current, however, had carried the boats some distance below 
 the spot intended for disembarkation, and before them lay 
 a steep ascent, broken by wood, the summit of which was 
 known by the name of the Heights of Abraham. 
 
 The movements of the ships on the preceding evening 
 had so far answered the purpose of deceiving the enemy, 
 that these heights were only defended by a captain's de- 
 tachment, and a few Indians and Canadian riflemen scat- 
 tered through the wood. The light infantry, who were the 
 first on shore, immediately scrambled up the steep, keeping 
 up an irregular fire with the Indians in the bushes ; and,, 
 after a short struggle, succeeded in forcing the post on the 
 top of the hill that commanded the narrow and precipitous 
 path by which alone the troops could advance. 
 
 Up this path Wolfe now led his army ; and had the 
 enemy been prepared to defend it properly, the advance of 
 the British would have been impossible, for the difficulties 
 of the w^ay were in themselves sufficient to have deterred 
 many a less enterprising officer from the attempt. One gun 
 alone could be carried up, and that was efi'ected with great, 
 and extraordinary labour by a detachment of seamen Irom 
 the fleet. "Wolfe was himself amongst the first at the top of 
 
GENERAL WOLFE. 455 
 
 ihi heights, and immediately proceeding to examine the 
 movements of the enemy, he perceived that his landing had 
 effected its great purpose, and that Montcalm was ad- 
 vancing out of his intrenchments to give him battle. 
 
 Having collected all his forces, as soon as the firing and 
 the appearance of the English on the heights announced 
 their having effected a landing, the Erench general pro- 
 ceeded across the river St. Charles, by the bridge of boats^. 
 and marched directly to the attack of "Wolfe, as the only 
 means left of saving the town. Some bushes and shrubby 
 ground in the front, as well as the hedges of a little garden? 
 on the right of their advance, the Erench lined with a con- 
 siderable body of Indians and riflemen, which kept up a 
 galling fire upon the English lines. G-eneral "Wolfe, how- 
 ever, had by this time taken up his position, and formed his 
 army, the advanced posts of which returned the Indian shot^ 
 though the main body had been strictly ordered to reserve 
 their fire till the enemy were within forty yards. The 
 only .cannon which had been drawn up the height, was 
 directed against the approaching columns of the enemy,, 
 and, being served with great precision and activity, annoyed 
 them much in their march. 
 
 As he advanced, Montcalm extended his line, with the- 
 intention of outflanking the left of the English position ; 
 but General Townsend was immediately ordered to make a 
 corresponding movement ; and forming his men what was 
 then called en pofence, so as to present a double front, he 
 neutralized the enemy's effort in that quarter. At the 
 same time a detachment of light infantry were thrown into 
 some houses on the extreme left, and a copse towards the 
 rear, to keep in check a body of Indians, which had advanced 
 considerably beyond the rest of the Erench line. 
 
 The enemy approached steadily and quickly, firing as 
 they came up ; but, according to the general order, the 
 British troops reserved their fire till the distance between 
 the armies was narrowed to forty yards, when, pouring it 
 rapidly into the Erench line, they threw the advancing 
 columns into some confusion. At that moment "Wolfe gave 
 the order to charge, and was leading on the Louisbourg 
 grenadiers to attack the enemy with the bayonet, when he 
 received a wound in his wrist, to which he paid no further 
 attention than by wrapping his handkerchief round it. Aa 
 
456 aENEEAL WOLFE. 
 
 instant after, however, a second shot passed tbrougli his 
 body, and before he fell, a third entered his right breast. He 
 dropped immediately, and was carried insensible to the rear. 
 The troops still pressed on, and General Monkton, the 
 second in command, who was leading on another regiment 
 of grenadiers, fell, severely wounded, a moment after. The 
 French wavered, and while their officers were making im- 
 mense exertions to keep them to their ground, Montcalm 
 was killed in the centre of the line. Nearly at the same 
 moment each of the British regiments closed with their 
 adversaries. The bayonets of the grenadiers drove the 
 enemy in confusion down the slope ; the Scotch regiments 
 threw away their muskets and drew their broadswords ; the 
 Prench dispersed in every direction, and the cry, " They 
 run ! They run !" echoed over the field. 
 
 Wolfe had lain without speech, and though he apparently 
 revived from time to time, yet he never raised his head, and 
 scarcely had animation returned for an instant before he 
 ^gain fainted away. At the moment when the French were 
 finally put to flight, however, he was lying seemingly insen- 
 sible; but at that cry " They run! they run!" his eyes 
 opened, and looking up, he demanded eagerly, " Who 
 run ?" 
 
 " The French!" was the reply; "they are in full flight 
 down the hill." "Then I thank Grod," said the general; 
 " I die contented;" and with those words upon his lips 
 Greneral Wolfe expired. 
 
 To estimate the value of Wolfe's exertions on this great 
 occasion, the fruits of his victory on the Heights of Abraham 
 must be considered ; and though he died on that field, his 
 biography cannot exactly cease at the same period. His 
 spirit lived after him in the consequences of what his life 
 had achieved. 
 
 After the fall of G-eneral Monkton, the chief command 
 'devolved upon General Townsend, and he immediately pro- 
 ■ceeded from the left, where he had been in command, to 
 the centre and the right, where pursuit had induced some 
 confusion. At the same moment a fresh body of French 
 troops, from Cape B/Ouge, appeared in the British rear; but 
 being opposed by two battalions, and seeing the posture of 
 aff"airs, they retreated in good order, and were left unpur- 
 .sued. Though defeated and dispersed, the enemy were still 
 
GENEEAL WOLEE. 457 
 
 considerably superior in number to the British forces ; and 
 General Townsend proceeded with wise caution, to reap the 
 fruits of what "Wolfe had won by persevering boldness. 
 His first undertaking was to fortify his camp upon the 
 heights, and he then prepared to attack the town. Bat- 
 teries were consequently erected, and Admiral Saunders 
 brought his vessels into such a position as enabled him to 
 cannonade the city from the water. These demonstrations 
 w*ere sufficient to induce the Prench governor. Monsieur de 
 Hamsay, to demand terms of capitulation, which were the 
 more willingly granted, as the scattered forces of Mont- 
 calm were rallying in every direction, and fresh troops were 
 reported to be coming down from Montreal. On the 18th 
 of September the town capitulated, and was immediately 
 garrisoned by five thousand English troops. 
 
 At that time very great enterprises were achieved by very 
 small forces ; and the number of men employed on both 
 sides, in the town, armies, and shipping, did not amount to 
 thirty thousand. The loss of the English in the battle was 
 stated to be six hundred and fifty in killed and wounded, 
 while that of the Erench was calculated at fifteen hundred. 
 Notwithstanding the small number of men which appeared 
 for the purpose of defending Quebec against the still smaller 
 number of English, the Erench, in order to furnish that 
 force, had been obliged not only to call their most success- 
 ful generals from the south, but had also been forced to 
 withdraw a considerable part of their troops. This neces- 
 sity greatly weakened the army which covered Montreal ; 
 and, consequently, General Amherst was enabled, notwith- 
 standing the factious delays of the provincial governments, 
 to make considerable advances on the side of New York 
 while the struggle for Quebec was proceeding. Ticonderoga 
 was abandoned at his approach, and Crown Point, which 
 had often proved a favourable and useful post to the Erench, 
 fell into the hands of the British troops. At the same 
 time General Prideaux, with some English and colonial 
 troops, and Sir William Johnson with a body of Indians,, 
 advanced upon the fort at Niagara. General Prideaux was 
 , accidentally killed by a shot from his own guns ; and while 
 waiting the arrival of General Gage, despatched by Amherst 
 to take the command, news reached the army that a Erench 
 officer, with two thousand regular troops and a large force 
 
458 OENEllAL WOLFE. 
 
 of Indians, was marching to the relief of Niagara. Sir 
 William Johnson immediately advanced to meet the enemy, 
 ^nd after a severe conflict of an hour, in which more than 
 three thousand Indians were engaged on both sides, the 
 French were completely defeated, and all their principal 
 officers taken prisoners. 
 
 The garrison of Niagara surrendered immediately after- 
 wards ; and the campaign of that year ended, leaving the 
 whole of Canada open to the arms of the English. In the 
 following year the French made one great effort for the re- 
 covery of Quebec, and G-eneral Murray, with more courage 
 than prudence, quitted the city and offered them battle. 
 The English troops were defeated, and forced to retreat into 
 the city ; but the arrival of a fleet in the St. Lawrence 
 obliged the French to raise the siege, and abandon the 
 attempt with considerable loss. At the same time General 
 Amherst resumed his march for Montreal, before which city 
 he arrived without much difficulty ; various bodies of troops 
 from other spots were concentrated on the same point, and 
 the marquis de Vaudreuil, governor of Canada, found him- 
 self obliged to treat for the surrender of the whole province. 
 He struggled hard, however, for the most favourable terms ; 
 and obtained more than he could have expected. G-eneral 
 Amherst behaved with great firmness; and many of the 
 French proposals, which tended to invalidate the integrity 
 of the conquest, were steadily rejected, notwithstanding a 
 great deal of manoeuvring and diplomacy by which the go- 
 vernor attempted to effect his object. The capitulation was 
 ultimately signed on the 8th of September, 1760, and the 
 battle of the Heights of Abraham was crowned by the ac- 
 quisition of the whole of Canada. 
 
 After that glorious victory, the body of General Wolfe 
 was carried to England in the Boyal William man-of-war, 
 and landed at Portsmouth, w^here the enthusiastic reve- 
 rence which mankind are more inclined to feel for dead than 
 for living worth, offered every honour to the clay of the hero. 
 His father, also a general officer, had lived to see his son 
 rise high in the profession which he had chosen, and tread a 
 path of rapid glory; but died shortly before Wolfe had 
 taken the last step in his brief and bright career. He had 
 been buried at Greenwich, and on the arrival of the con- 
 queror's body from Quebec, the grave of the father was 
 
GENEEAL WOLFE. • 459 
 
 opened to receive the remains of the son. A cenotaph was 
 erected to his memory in "Westminster Abbey, and another 
 at his native place, "Westerham, in Kent. The pen and the 
 pencil were employed to describe his exploits and portray 
 his death; and seldom has a whole country joined in such 
 zealous applause and universal regret. 
 
 It rarely indeed happens that so short a life — not four- 
 and-thirty years — has been able to comprise such great 
 actions, and to acquire such a mighty name ; but Wolfe died 
 in the happy moment of success ; and the consequences of his 
 achievements proved the best comment on their importance. 
 'Nov was the voice of a great orator and noble-minded man 
 wanting to do full justice to the merits of the dead officer. 
 Lord Chatham, then Mr. Pitt, in moving an address to the 
 king, to petition that a monument might be erected to 
 Wolfe in Westminster Abbey, pronounced a splendid pane- 
 gyric upon the man by whose courage, perseverance, skill, 
 and talent one of his own greatest schemes had been con- 
 ducted to complete success. The voice of the whole nation 
 seconded the appeal of the minister ; and bright amidst the 
 immensity of lying epitaphs and vain mausoleums, which in 
 ^11 ages and all countries have attributed supposititious 
 virtues to the dead, the marble to Wolfe is a true monu- 
 ment of national applause, recording qualities that existed, 
 triumphed, and were valued as they deserved. Coiitem- 
 porary praise paid every tribute to his memory, and passing 
 years — those tell-tale discoverers of hidden frailties — have 
 detected no flaw in his noble reputation. Had he lived 
 longer, fortune it is true might have changed, his schemes 
 might have failed, his exertions proved ineffectual ; but still 
 Wolfe would have been a great man. As it was, kind, 
 generous, liberal, brave, talented, enthusiastic, he lived 
 beloved and admired for his short space of being, went on 
 through existence from success to success, and then, like 
 the setting sun of a summer's day, he sank with the blaze 
 of his fflorv all about him. 
 
CHARLES DICKENS AND EVANS^ 
 GREAT NEW ST., LONDON. 
 
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