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BLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
No. CCCLXII. DECEMBER, 1845. VOL. LVIII.
CONTENTS.
MARLBOROUGH No. II., 649
THE STUDENT OF SALAMANCA Part II., 673
WHITE'S THREE YEARS IN CONSTANTINOPLE, 688
THE MOUNTAIN AND THE CLOUD, 704
THE SECOND PANDORA, 711
THE REIGN OF GEORGE THE THIRD, 713
A FEW PASSAGES CONCERNING OMENS, DREAMS, APPEARANCES, &C., 735
A MOTHER TO HER FORSAKEN CHILD, 752
SUMMER NOONTIDE, _ib._
TO CLARA, 753
SECLUSION, _ib._
THE LAST HOURS OF A REIGN. Part I., 754
THE SCOTTISH HARVEST, 769
EDINBURGH:
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, 45, GEORGE STREET;
AND 37, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON.
_To whom all Communications (post paid) must be addressed._
SOLD BY ALL THE BOOKSELLERS IN THE UNITED KINGDOM.
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND HUGHES, EDINBURGH.
MARLBOROUGH. No. II.[1]
It might have been expected, that after the march into Bavaria had
demonstrated the military genius of the Duke of Marlborough, and the
battle of Blenheim had in so decisive a manner broken the enemy's
power, the principal direction of military affairs would have been
entrusted to that consummate commander; and that the Allied cabinets,
without presuming to interfere in the management of the campaigns,
would have turned all their efforts to place at his disposal forces
adequate to carry into execution the mighty designs which he
meditated, and had shown himself so well qualified to carry into
execution. It was quite the reverse. The Allied cabinets did nothing.
They did worse than nothing--they interfered only to do mischief.
Their principal object after this appeared to be to cramp the efforts
of this great general, to overrule his bold designs, to tie down his
aspiring genius. Each looked only to his own separate objects, and
nothing could make them see that they were to be gained only by
promoting the general objects of the alliance. Relieved from the
danger of instant subjugation by the victory of Blenheim, and the
retreat of the French army across the Rhine, the German powers
relapsed into their usual state of supineness, lukewarmness, and
indifference. No efforts of Marlborough could induce the Dutch either
to enlarge their contingent, or even render that already in the field
fit for active service. The English force was not half of what the
national strength was capable of sending forth. Parliament would not
hear of any thing like an adequate expenditure. Thus the golden
opportunity, never likely to be regained, of profiting by the
consternation of the enemy after the battle of Blenheim, and their
weakness after forty thousand of their best troops had been lost to
their armies, was allowed to pass away; and the war was permitted to
dwindle into one of posts and sieges, when, by a vigorous effort, it
might have been concluded in the next campaign.[2]
It was not thus with the French. The same cause which had loosened
the efforts of the confederates, had inspired unwonted vigour into
their councils. The Rhine was crossed by the Allies; the French armies
had been hurled with disgrace out of Germany; the territory of the
Grand Monarque was threatened both from the side of Alsace and
Flanders; and a formidable insurrection in the Cevennes both
distracted the force and threatened the peace of the kingdom. But
against all these evils Louis made head. Never had the superior vigour
and perseverance of a monarchy over that of a confederacy been more
clearly evinced. Marshal Villars had been employed in the close of the
preceding year to appease the insurrection in the Cevennes, and his
measures were at once so vigorous and conciliatory, that before the
end of the following winter the disturbances were entirely appeased.
In consequence of this, the forces employed in that quarter became
disposable; and by this means, and the immense efforts made by the
government over the whole kingdom, the armies on the frontier were so
considerably augmented, that Villeroi and the Elector of Bavaria took
the field in the Low Countries at the head of seventy-five thousand
men, while Marshal Marsin on the Upper Rhine, covered Alsace with
thirty thousand. Those armies were much larger than any which the
Allies could bring against them; for although it had been calculated
that Marlborough was to be at the head of ninety thousand men on the
Moselle on the 1st May, yet such had been the dilatory conduct of the
States-general and the German princes, that in the beginning of June
there were scarcely thirty thousand men collected round his standards;
and in Flanders and on the Upper Rhine the enemy's relative
superiority was still greater.
The plan of the campaign of 1705, based on the supposition that these
great forces were to be at his disposal, concerted between him and
Prince Eugene, was in the highest degree bold and decisive. It was
fixed that, early in spring, ninety thousand men should be assembled
in the country between the Moselle and the Saar, and, after
establishing their magazines and base of operations at Treves and
Traerbach, they should penetrate, in two columns into Lorraine; that
the column under Marlborough in person should advance along the course
of Moselle, and the other, under the Margrave of Baden, by the valley
of the Saar, and that Saar-Louis should be invested before the French
army had time to take the field. In this way the whole fortresses of
Flanders would be avoided, and the war, carried into the enemy's
territory, would assail France on the side where her iron barrier was
most easily pierced through. But the slowness of the Dutch, and
backwardness of the Germans, rendered this well-conceived plan
abortive, and doomed the English general, for the whole of a campaign
which promised such important advantages, to little else but
difficulty, delay, and vexation. Marlborough's enthusiasm, great as it
was, nearly sank under the repeated disappointments which he
experienced at this juncture; and, guarded as he was, it exhaled in
several bitter complaints in his confidential correspondence.[3] But,
like a true patriot and man of perseverance, he did not give way to
despair when he found nearly all that had been promised him awanting;
but perceiving the greater designs impracticable, from the want of all
the means by which they could be carried into execution, prepared to
make the most of the diminutive force which alone was at his disposal.
At length, some of the German reinforcements having arrived,
Marlborough, in the beginning of June, though still greatly inferior
to the enemy, commenced operations. Such was the terror inspired by
his name, and the tried valour of the English troops, that Villars
remained on the defensive, and soon retreated. Without firing a shot,
he evacuated a strong woody country which he occupied, and retired to
a strong defensive position, extending from Haute Sirk on the right,
to the Nivelles on the left, and communicating in the rear with
Luxembourg, Thionville, and Saar-Louis. This position was so strong,
that it was hopeless to attempt to force it without heavy cannon; and
Marlborough's had not yet arrived, from the failure of the German
princes to furnish the draught-horses they had promised. For nine
weary days he remained in front of the French position, counting the
hours till the guns and reinforcements came up; but such was the
tardiness of the German powers, and the universal inefficiency of the
inferior princes and potentates, that they never made their
appearance. The English general was still anxiously awaiting the
promised supplies, when intelligence arrived from the right of so
alarming a character as at once changed the theatre of operations, and
fixed him for the remainder of the campaign in the plains of Flanders.
It was the rapid progress which Marshal Villeroi and the Elector of
Bavaria, at the head of seventy-five thousand men, were making in the
heart of Flanders, which rendered this change necessary. General
Overkirk was there entrusted with the army intended to cover Holland;
but it was greatly inferior to the enemy in point of numerical amount,
and still more so in the quality and composition of the troops of
which it was composed. Aware of his superiority, and of the timid
character of the government which was principally interested in that
army, Villeroi pushed his advantages to the utmost. He advanced boldly
upon the Meuse, carried by assault the fortress of Huys, and, marching
upon Liege, occupied the town without much resistance, and laid siege
to the citadel. Overkirk, in his lines before Maestricht, was unable
even to keep the field. The utmost alarm seized upon the United
Provinces. They already in imagination saw Louis XIV. a second time at
the gates of Amsterdam. Courier after courier was dispatched to
Marlborough, soliciting relief in the most urgent terms; and it was
hinted, that if effectual protection were not immediately given,
Holland would be under the necessity of negotiating for a separate
peace. There was not a moment to be lost: the Dutch were now as hard
pressed as the Austrians had been in the preceding year, and in
greater alarm than the Emperor was before the battle of Blenheim. A
cross march like that into Bavaria could alone reinstate affairs.
Without a moment's hesitation, Marlborough took his determination.
On the 17th June, without communicating his designs to any one, or
even without saying a word of the alarming intelligence he had
received, he ordered the whole army to be under arms at midnight, and
setting out shortly after, he marched, without intermission, eighteen
miles to the rear. Having thus gained a march upon the enemy, so as to
avoid the risk of being pursued or harassed in his retreat, he left
General D'Aubach with eleven battalions and twelve squadrons to cover
the important magazines at Treves and Saarbruck; and himself, with the
remainder of the army, about thirty thousand strong, marched rapidly
in the direction of Maestricht. He was in hopes of being able, like
the Consul Nero, in the memorable cross march from Apulia to the
Metaurus in Roman story, to attack the enemy with his own army united
to that of Overkirk, before he was aware of his approach; but in this
he was disappointed. Villeroi got notice of his movement, and
instantly raising the siege of the citadel of Liege, withdrew, though
still superior in number to the united forces of the enemy, within the
shelter of the lines he had prepared and fortified with great care on
the Meuse. Marlborough instantly attacked and carried Huys on the 11th
July. But the satisfaction derived from having thus arrested the
progress of the enemy in Flanders, and wrested from him the only
conquest of the campaign, soon received a bitter alloy. Like Napoleon
in his later years, the successes he gained in person were almost
always overbalanced by the disasters sustained through the blunders or
treachery of his lieutenants. Hardly had Huys opened its gates, when
advices were received that D'Aubach, instead of obeying his orders,
and defending the magazines at Treves and Saarbruck to the last
extremity, had fled on the first appearance of a weak French
detachment, and burned the whole stores which it had cost so much time
and money to collect. This was a severe blow to Marlborough, for it at
once rendered impracticable the offensive movement into Lorraine, on
which his heart was so set, and from which he had anticipated such
important results. It was no longer possible to carry the war into the
enemy's territory, or turn, by an irruption into Lorraine, the whole
fortresses of the enemy in Flanders. The tardiness of the German
powers in the first instance, the terrors of the Dutch, and misconduct
of D'Aubach in the last, had caused that ably conceived design
entirely to miscarry. Great was the mortification of the English
general at this signal disappointment of his most warmly cherished
hopes; it even went so far that he had thoughts of resigning his
command.[4] But instead of abandoning himself to despair, he set
about, like the King of Prussia in after times, the preparation of a
stroke which should reinstate his affairs by the terror with which it
inspired the enemy, and the demonstration of inexhaustible resources
it afforded in himself.
The position occupied by the Elector of Bavaria and Marshal Villeroi
was so strong that it was regarded as impregnable, and in truth it was
so to a front attack. With its right resting on Marche aux Dames on
the Meuse, it stretched through Leau to the strong and important
fortress of Antwerp. This line was long, and of course liable to be
broken through at points; but such was the skill with which every
vulnerable point had been strengthened and fortified by the French
engineers, that it was no easy matter to say where an impression could
be made. Wherever a marsh or a stream intervened, the most skilful use
had been made of it; while forts and redoubts, plentifully mounted
with heavy cannon, both commanded all the approaches to the lines, and
formed so many _points d'appui_ to its defenders in case of disaster.
Such a position, defended by seventy thousand men, directed by able
generals, might well be deemed impregnable. But Marlborough, with an
inferior force, resolved to attempt it. In doing so, however, he had
difficulties more formidable to overcome than even the resistance of
the enemy in front; the timidity of the authorities at the Hague, the
nervousness and responsibility of the Dutch generals, were more to be
dreaded than Villeroi's redoubts. It required all the consummate
address of the English general, aided by the able co-operation of
General Overkirk, to get liberty from the Dutch authorities to engage
in any offensive undertaking. At length, however, after infinite
difficulty, a council of war, at headquarters, agreed to support any
undertaking which might be deemed advisable; and Marlborough instantly
set about putting his design in execution.
The better to conceal the real point of attack, he gave out that a
march to the Moselle was to be immediately undertaken; and to give a
colour to the report, the corps which had been employed in the siege
of Huys was not brought forward to the front. At the same time
Overkirk was detached to the Allied left towards Bourdine, and
Marlborough followed with a considerable force, ostensibly to support
him. So completely was Villeroi imposed upon, that he drew large
reinforcements from the centre to his extreme right; and soon forty
thousand men were grouped round the sources of the Little Gheet on his
extreme right. By this means the centre was seriously weakened; and
Marlborough instantly assembled, with every imaginable precaution to
avoid discovery, all his disposable forces to attack the weakened part
of the lines. The corps hitherto stationed on the Meuse was silently
brought up to the front; Marlborough put himself at the head of his
own English and German troops, whom he had carried with him from the
Moselle; and at eight at night, on the 17th July, the whole began to
march, all profoundly ignorant of the service on which they were to be
engaged. Each trooper was ordered to carry a truss of hay at his
saddle-bow, as if a long march was in contemplation. At the same
instant on which the columns under Marlborough's orders commenced
their march, Overkirk repassed the Mehaigne on the left, and, hid by
darkness, fell into the general line of the advance of the Allied
troops.
No fascines or gabions had been brought along to pass the ditch, for
fear of exciting alarm in the lines. The trusses of hay alone were
trusted to for that purpose, which would be equally effectual, and
less likely to awaken suspicion. At four in the morning, the heads of
the columns, wholly unperceived, were in front of the French works,
and, covered by a thick fog, traversed the morass, passed the Gheet
despite its steep banks, carried the castle of Wange, and, rushing
forward with a swift pace, crossed the ditch on the trusses of hay,
and, in three weighty columns, scaled the rampart, and broke into the
enemy's works. Hitherto entire success had attended this admirably
planned attack; but the alarm was now given; a fresh corps of fifteen
thousand men, under M. D'Allegre, hastily assembled, and a heavy fire
was opened upon the Allies, now distinctly visible in the morning
light, from a commanding battery. Upon this, Marlborough put himself
at the head of Lumley's English horse, and, charging vigorously,
succeeded, though not till he had sustained one repulse, in breaking
through the line thus hastily formed. In this charge the Duke narrowly
escaped with his life, in a personal conflict with a Bavarian officer.
The Allies now crowded in, in great numbers, and the French,
panic-struck, fled on all sides, abandoning the whole centre of their
intrenchments to the bold assailants. Villeroi, who had become aware,
from the retreat of Overkirk in his front, that some attack was in
contemplation, but ignorant where the tempest was to fall, remained
all night under arms. At length, attracted by the heavy fire, he
approached the scene of action in the centre, only in time to see that
the position was broken through, and the lines no longer tenable. He
drew off his whole troops accordingly, and took up a new position,
nearly at right angles to the former, stretching from Elixheim towards
Tirlemont. It was part of the design of the Duke to have intercepted
the line of retreat of the French, and prevented them from reaching
the Dyle, to which they were tending; but such was the obstinacy and
slowness of the Dutch generals, that nothing could persuade them to
make any further exertion, and, in defiance of the orders and
remonstrances alike of Marlborough and Overkirk, they pitched their
tents, and refused to take any part in the pursuit. The consequence
was, that Villeroi collected his scattered forces, crossed the Dyle in
haste, and took up new ground, about eighteen miles in the rear, with
his left sheltered by the cannon of Louvain. But, though the
disobedience and obstinacy of the Dutch thus intercepted Marlborough
in the career of victory, and rendered his success much less complete
than it otherwise would have been, yet had a mighty blow been struck,
reflecting the highest credit on the skill and resolution of the
English general. The famous lines, on which the French had been
labouring for months, had been broken through and carried, during a
nocturnal conflict of a few hours; they had lost all their redoubts
and ten pieces of cannon, with which they were armed; M. D'Allegre,
with twelve hundred prisoners, had been taken; and the army which
lately besieged Liege and threatened Maestricht, was now driven back,
defeated and discouraged, to seek refuge under the cannon of Louvain.
Overkirk, who had so ably co-operated with Marlborough in this
glorious victory, had the magnanimity as well as candour, in his
despatch to the States-general, to ascribe the success which had been
gained entirely to the skill and courage of the English general.[5]
But the Dutch generals, who had interrupted his career of success, had
the malignity to charge the consequences of their misconduct on his
head, and even carried their effrontery so far as to accuse him of
supineness in not following up his success, and cutting off the
enemy's retreat to the Dyle, when it was themselves who had refused to
obey his orders to do so. Rains of extraordinary severity fell from
the 19th to the 23d July, which rendered all offensive operations
impracticable, and gave Villeroi time, of which he ably availed
himself, to strengthen his position behind the Dyle to such a degree,
as to render it no longer assailable with any prospect of success. The
precious moment, when the enemy might have been driven from it in the
first tumult of success, had been lost.
The subsequent success in the Flemish campaign by no means
corresponded to its brilliant commencement. The jealousy of the Dutch
ruined every thing. This gave rise to recriminations and jealousies,
which rendered it impracticable even for the great abilities and
consummate address of Marlborough to effect any thing of importance
with the heterogeneous array, with the nominal command of which he was
invested. The English general dispatched his adjutant-general, Baron
Hompesch, to represent to the States-general the impossibility of
going on longer with such a divided responsibility; but, though they
listened to his representations, nothing could induce them to put
their troops under the direct orders of the commander-in-chief. They
still had "field deputies," as they were called who were invested with
the entire direction of the Dutch troops; and as they were civilians,
wholly unacquainted with military affairs, they had recourse on every
occasion to the very fractious generals who already had done so much
mischief to the common cause. In vain Marlborough repeatedly
endeavoured, as he himself said, "to cheat them into victory," by
getting their consent to measures, of which they did not see the
bearing, calculated to achieve that object; their timid, jealous
spirit interposed on every occasion to mar important operations, and
the corps they commanded was too considerable to admit of their being
undertaken without their co-operation. After nine days' watching the
enemy across the Dyle, Marlborough proposed to cross the river near
Louvain, and attack the enemy; the Dutch Deputies interposed their
negative, to Marlborough's infinite mortification, as, in his own
words, "it spoiled the whole campaign."[6]
Worn out with these long delays, Marlborough at length resolved at all
hazards to pass the river, trusting that the Dutch, when they saw the
conflict once seriously engaged, would not desert him. But in this he
was mistaken. The Dutch not only failed to execute the part assigned
them in the combined enterprise, but sent information of his designs
to the enemy. The consequence was, Villeroi was on his guard. All the
Duke's demonstrations could not draw his attention from his left,
where the real attack was intended; but nevertheless the Duke pushed
on the English and Germans under his orders, who forced the passage in
the most gallant style. But when the Duke ordered the Dutch generals
to support the attack of the Duke of Wirtemberg, who had crossed the
river, and established himself in force on the opposite bank, they
refused to move their men. The consequence was that this attack, as
well planned and likely to succeed as the famous forcing of the lines
a fortnight before, proved abortive; and Marlborough, burning with
indignation, was obliged to recall his troops when on the high-road to
victory, and when the river had been crossed, before they had
sustained a loss of a hundred men. So general was the indignation at
this shameful return on the part of the Dutch generals to Marlborough
for all the services he had rendered to their country, that it drew
forth the strongest expressions from one of his ablest, but most
determined opponents, Lord Bolingbroke, who wrote to him at this
juncture:--"It was very melancholy to find the malice of Slangenberg,
the fears of Dopf, and the ignorance of the deputies, to mention no
more, prevail so to disappoint your Grace, to their prejudice as well
as ours. We hope the Dutch have agreed to what your Grace desires of
them, without which the war becomes a jest to our enemies, _and can
end in nothing but an ill peace, which is certain ruin to us_."[7]
Still the English general was not discouraged. His public spirit and
patriotism prevailed over his just private resentment. Finding it
impossible to prevail on the Dutch deputies, who, in every sense, were
so many viceroys over him, to agree to any attempt to force the
passage of the Dyle, he resolved to turn it. For this purpose the army
was put in motion on the 14th August; and, defiling to his left, he
directed it in three columns towards the sources of the Dyle. The
march was rapid, as the Duke had information that strong
reinforcements, detached from the army at Alsace, would join Villeroi
on the 18th. They soon came to ground subsequently immortalized in
English story. On the 16th they reached Genappe, where, on 17th June
1815, the Life-guards under Lord Anglesea defeated the French lancers;
on the day following, the enemy retired into the forest of Soignies,
still covering Brussels, and the Allied headquarters were moved to
Braine la Leude. On the 17th August, a skirmish took place on the
plain in front of WATERLOO; and the alarm being given, the Duke
hastened to the spot, and rode over the field where Wellington and
Napoleon contended a hundred and ten years afterwards. The French
upon this retired into the forest of Soignies, and rested at Waterloo
for the night.
The slightest glance at the map must be sufficient to show, that by
this cross march to Genappe and Waterloo, Marlborough had gained an
immense advantage over the enemy. _He had interposed between them and
France._ He had relinquished for the time, it is true, his own base of
operations, and was out of communication with his magazines; but he
had provided for this by taking six days' provisions for the army with
him; and he could now force the French to fight or abandon Brussels,
and retire towards Antwerp--the Allies being between them and France.
Still clinging to their fortified lines on the Dyle, and desirous of
covering Brussels, they had only occupied the wood of Soignies with
their right wing; while the Allies occupied all the open country from
Genappe to Frischermont and Braine la Leude, with their advanced posts
up to La Haye Sainte and Mount St John. The Allies now occupied the
ground, afterwards covered by Napoleon's army: the forest of Soignies
and approaches to Brussels were guarded by the French. Incalculable
were the results of a victory gained in such a position: it was by
success gained over an army of half the size, that Napoleon
established his power in so surprising a manner at Marengo. Impressed
with such ideas, Marlborough, on the 18th August, anxiously
reconnoitred the ground; and finding the front practicable for the
passage of troops, moved up his men in three columns to the attack.
The artillery was sent to Wavre; the Allied columns traversed at right
angles the line of march by which Blucher advanced to the support of
Wellington on the 18th June 1815.
Had Marlborough's orders been executed, it is probable he would have
gained a victory, which, from the relative position of the two armies,
could not have been but decisive; and possibly the 18th August 1705,
might have become as celebrated in history as the 18th June 1815.
Overkirk, to whom he showed the ground at Over-Ische which he had
destined for an attack, perfectly concurred in the expedience of it,
and orders were given to bring the artillery forward to commence a
cannonade. By the malice or negligence of Slangenberg, who had again
violated his express instructions, and permitted the baggage to
intermingle with the artillery-train, the guns had not arrived, and
some hours were lost before they could be pushed up. At length, at
noon, the guns were brought forward, and the troops being in line,
Marlborough rode along the front to give his last orders. The English
and Germans were in the highest spirits, anticipating certain victory
from the relative position of the armies; the French fighting with
their faces to Paris, the Allies with theirs to Brussels. But again
the Dutch deputies and generals interposed, alleging that the enemy
was too strongly posted to be attacked with any prospect of success.
"Gentlemen," said Marlborough to the circle of generals which
surrounded him, "I have reconnoitred the ground, and made dispositions
for an attack. I am convinced that conscientiously, and as men of
honour, we cannot now retire without an action. Should we neglect this
opportunity, we must be responsible before God and man. You see the
confusion which pervades the ranks of the enemy, and their
embarrassment at our manoeuvres. I leave you to judge whether we
should attack to-day, or wait till to-morrow. It is indeed late; but
you must consider, that by throwing up intrenchments during the night,
the enemy will render their position far more difficult to force."
"Murder and massacre," replied Slangenberg. Marlborough, upon this,
offered him two English for every Dutch battalion; but this too the
Dutchman refused, on the plea that he did not understand English. Upon
this the Duke offered to give him German regiments; but this too was
declined, upon the pretence that the attack would be too hazardous.
Marlborough, upon this, turned to the deputies and said--"I disdain to
send troops to dangers which I will not myself encounter. I will lead
them where the peril is most imminent. I adjure you, gentlemen! for
the love of God and your country, do not let us neglect so favourable
an opportunity." But it was all in vain; and instead of acting, the
Dutch deputies and generals spent three hours in debating, until night
came on and it was too late to attempt any thing. Such was
Marlborough's chagrin at this disappointment, that he said, on
retiring from the field, "I am at this moment _ten years_ older than I
was four days ago."
Next day, as Marlborough had foreseen, the enemy had strengthened
their position with field-works; so that it was utterly hopeless to
get the Dutch to agree to an attack which _then_ would indeed have
been hazardous, though it was not so the evening before. The case was
now irremediable. The six days' bread he had taken with him was on the
point of being exhausted, and a protracted campaign without
communication with his magazines was impracticable. With a heavy
heart, therefore, Marlborough remeasured his steps to the ground he
had left in front of the Dyle, and gave orders for destroying the
lines of Leau, which he had carried with so much ability. His vexation
was increased afterwards, by finding that the consternation of the
French had been such on the 18th August, when he was so urgent to
attack them, that they intended only to have made a show of
resistance, in order to gain time for their baggage and heavy guns to
retire to Brussels. To all appearance Marlborough, if he had not been
so shamefully thwarted, would have illustrated the forest of Soignies
by a victory as decisive as that of Blenheim, and realized the
triumphant entrance to Brussels which Napoleon anticipated from his
attack on Wellington on the same ground a hundred years afterwards.
Nothing further, of any moment, was done in this campaign, except the
capture of Leau and levelling of the enemy's lines on the Gheet.
Marlborough wrote a formal letter to the States, in which he regretted
the opportunity which had been lost, which M. Overkirk had coincided
with him in thinking promised a great and glorious victory; and he
added, "my heart is so full that I cannot forbear representing to your
High Mightinesses on this occasion, that I find my authority here to
be much less than when I had the honour to command your troops in
Germany."[8] The Dutch generals sent in their counter-memorial to
their government, which contains a curious picture of their idea of
the subordination and direction of an army, and furnishes a key to the
jealousy which had proved so fatal to the common cause. They
complained that the Duke of Marlborough, "without holding a council of
war, made two or three marches _for the execution of some design
formed by his Grace_; and we cannot conceal from your High
Mightinesses that all the generals of our army think it very strange
_that they should not have the least notice of the said marches_."[9]
It has been already mentioned that Marlborough, like every other good
general, kept his designs to himself, from the impossibility of
otherwise keeping them from the enemy; and that he had the additional
motive, in the case of the Dutch deputies and generals, of being
desirous "to cheat them into victory."
Chagrined by disappointment, and fully convinced, as Wellington was
after his campaign with Cuesta and the Spaniards at Talavera, that it
was in vain to attempt any thing further with such impediments, on the
part of the Allies, thrown in his way, Marlborough retired, in the
beginning of September, to Tirlemont, the mineral waters of which had
been recommended to him; and, in the end of October, the troops on
both sides went into winter quarters. His vexation with the Dutch at
this period strongly appeared in his private letters to his intimate
friends;[10] but, though he exerted himself to the utmost during the
suspension of operations in the field, both by memorials to his own
government, and representations to the Dutch rulers, to get the
direction of the army put upon a better footing, yet he had
magnanimity and patriotism enough to sacrifice his private feelings to
the public good. Instead of striving, therefore, to inflame the
resentment of the English cabinet at the conduct of the Dutch
generals, he strove only to moderate it; and prevailed on them to
suspend the sending of a formal remonstrance, which they had prepared,
to the States-general, till the effect of his own private
representation in that quarter was first ascertained. The result
proved that he had judged wisely; his disinterested conduct met with
the deserved reward. The Patriotic party, both in England and at the
Hague, was strongly roused in his favour; the factious accusations of
the English Tories, like those of the Whigs a century after against
Wellington, were silenced; the States-general were compelled by the
public indignation to withdraw from their commands the generals who
had thwarted his measures; and, without risking the union of the two
powers, the factious, selfish men who had endangered the object of
their alliance, were for ever deprived of the means of doing mischief.
But while the danger was thus abated in one quarter, it only became
more serious in another. The Dutch had been protected, and hindered
from breaking off from the alliance, only by endangering the fidelity
of the Austrians; and it had now become indispensable, at all hazards,
to do something to appease their jealousies. The Imperial cabinet, in
addition to the war in Italy, on the Upper Rhine, and in the Low
Countries, was now involved in serious hostilities in Hungary; and
felt the difficulty, or rather impossibility, of maintaining the
contest at once in so many different quarters. The cross march of
Marlborough from the Moselle to Flanders, however loudly called for by
the danger and necessities of the States, had been viewed with a
jealous eye by the Emperor, as tending to lead the war away from the
side of Lorraine, with which the German interests were wound up; and
the instances were loud and frequent, that, now that the interests of
the Dutch were sufficiently provided for, he should return with the
English contingent to that, the proper theatre of offensive
operations. But Marlborough's experience had taught him, that as
little reliance was to be placed on the co-operation of the Margrave
of Baden, and the lesser German powers, as on that of the Dutch; and
he felt that it was altogether in vain to attempt another campaign
either in Germany or Flanders, unless some more effectual measures
were taken to appease the jealousies, and secure the co-operation of
this discordant alliance, than had hitherto been done. With this view,
after having arranged matters to his satisfaction at the Hague, when
Slangenberg was removed from the command, he repaired to Vienna in
November, and thence soon after to Berlin.
Marlborough's extraordinary address and powers of persuasion did not
desert him on this critical occasion. Never was more strongly
exemplified the truth of Chesterfield's remark, that manner had as
much weight as matter in procuring him success; and that he was
elevated to greatness as much on the wings of the Graces as by the
strength of Minerva. Great as were the difficulties which attended the
holding together the grand alliance, they all yielded to the magic of
his name and the fascination of his manner. At Bernsberg he succeeded
in obtaining from the Elector a promise for the increase of his
contingent, and leave for it to be sent into Italy, where its
co-operation was required; at Frankfort he overcame, by persuasion and
address, the difficulties of the Margrave of Baden; and at Vienna he
was magnificently received, and soon obtained unbounded credit with
the Emperor. He was raised to the rank of prince of the empire, with
the most flattering assurances of esteem; and feted by the nobles, who
vied with each other in demonstrations of respect to the illustrious
conqueror of Blenheim. During his short sojourn of a fortnight there,
he succeeded in allaying the suspicions and quieting the apprehensions
of the Emperor, which no other man could have done; and, having
arranged the plan of the next campaign, and raised, on his own credit,
a loan of 100,000 crowns for the imperial court from the bankers, as
well as promised one of L.250,000 more, which he afterwards obtained
in London, he set out for Berlin, where his presence was not less
necessary to stimulate the exertions and appease the complaints of the
King of Prussia. He arrived there on the 30th November, and on the
same evening had an audience of the King, to whose strange and
capricious temper he so completely accommodated himself, that he
allayed all his discontents, and brought him over completely to his
views. He prevailed on him to renew the treaty for the furnishing of
eight thousand men to aid the common cause, and to repair the chasms
occasioned by the campaign in their ranks, as well as revoke the
orders which had been issued for their return from Italy, where their
removal would have proved of essential detriment. This concession, in
the words of the prime minister who announced it, was granted "as a
mark of respect to the Queen, and of particular friendship to the
Duke." From Berlin he went, loaded with honours and presents, to
Hanover, where jealousies of a different kind, but not less dangerous,
had arisen in consequence of the apprehensions there entertained, that
the Whigs were endeavouring to thwart the eventual succession of the
House of Hanover to the throne of England. Marlborough's address,
however, here also succeeded in overcoming all difficulties; and,
after a sojourn of only a few days, he departed in the highest favour
both with the Elector and his mother. From thence he hastened to the
Hague, where he remained a fortnight, and succeeded in a great degree
in removing those difficulties, and smoothing down those jealousies,
which had proved so injurious to the common cause in the preceding
campaign. He prevailed on the Dutch to reject separate offers of
accommodation, which had been made to them by the French government.
Having thus put all things on as favourable a footing as could be
hoped for on the Continent, he embarked for England in the beginning
of January 1705--having overcome greater difficulties, and obtained
greater advantages, in the course of this winter campaign, with his
divided allies, than he ever did during a summer campaign with the
enemy.
Every one, how cursorily soever he may be acquainted with Wellington's
campaigns, must be struck with the great similarity between the
difficulties which thus beset the Duke of Marlborough, in the earlier
periods of his career, and those which at a subsequent period so long
hampered the genius and thwarted the efforts of England's greatest
general. Slangenberg's jealousy as an exact counterpart of that of
Cuesta at Talavera; the timidity of the Dutch authorities was
precisely similar to that of the Portuguese regency; the difficulty of
appeasing the jealousy of Austria and Prussia, identical with that
which so often compelled Wellington to hurry from the field to Lisbon
and Cadiz. Such is the selfishness of human nature that it seems
impossible to get men, actuated by different interests, to concur in
any measures for the general good but under the pressure of immediate
danger, so threatening as to be obvious to every understanding, or by
the influence of ability and address of the very highest order. It is
this which in every age has caused the weakness of the best-cemented
confederacies, and so often enabled single powers, not possessing a
fourth part of their material resources, to triumph over them. And it
is in the power of overcoming these difficulties, and allaying those
jealousies, that one of the most important qualities of the general of
an alliance is to be found.
Marlborough sailed for the Continent, to take the command of the
armies in the Low Countries, on the 20th April 1706. His design was to
have transferred the seat of war into Italy, as affairs had become so
unpromising in that quarter as to be well-nigh desperate. The
Imperialists had been surprised by the French general, Vendome, in
their quarters near Como, and driven into the mountains behind that
town with the loss of three thousand men; so that all hold of the
plain of Lombardy was lost. The Duke of Savoy was even threatened with
a siege in his capital of Turin. The Margrave of Baden was displaying
his usual fractious and impracticable disposition on the Upper Rhine:
it seemed, in Marlborough's words, "as if he had no other object in
view but to cover his own capital and residence." In Flanders, the
habitual procrastination and tardiness of the Dutch had so thrown back
the preparations, that it was impossible to begin the campaign so
early as he had intended; and the jealousies of the cabinets of Berlin
and Copenhagen had again revived to such a degree, that no aid was to
be expected either from the Prussian or Danish contingents. It was
chiefly to get beyond the reach of such troublesome and inconstant
neighbours, that Marlborough was so desirous of transferring the seat
of war to Italy, where he would have been beyond their reach. But all
his efforts failed in inducing the States-general to allow any part of
their troops to be employed to the south of the Alps; nor, indeed,
could it reasonably have been expected that they would consent to
hazard their forces, in an expedition not immediately connected with
their interests, to so distant a quarter. The umbrage of the Elector
of Hanover at the conduct of Queen Anne, had become so excessive, that
he positively refused to let his contingent march. The Danes and
Hessians excused themselves on various pretences from moving their
troops to the south; and the Emperor, instead of contributing any
thing to the war in Flanders, was urgent that succour should be sent,
and that the English general should, in person, take the command on
the Moselle. Marlborough was thus reduced to the English troops, and
those in the pay of Holland; but they amounted to nearly sixty
thousand men; and, on the 19th May, he set out from the Hague to take
the command of this force, which lay in front of the old French
frontier on the river Dyle. Marshal Villeroi had there collected
sixty-two thousand men; so that the two armies, in point of numerical
strength, were very nearly equal.
The English general had established a secret correspondence with one
Pasquini, an inhabitant of Namur, through whose agency, and that of
some other citizens of the town who were inclined to the Imperial
interest, he hoped to be able to make himself master of that important
fortress. To facilitate that attempt, and have troops at hand ready to
take advantage of any opening that might be afforded them in that
quarter, he moved towards Tirlemont, directing his march by the
sources of the Little Gheet. Determined to cover Namur, and knowing
that the Hanoverians and Hessians were absent, Villeroi marched out of
his lines, in order to stop the advance of the Allies, and give battle
in the open field. On the 20th May, the English and Dutch forces
effected their junction at Bitsia; and on the day following the Danish
contingent arrived, Marlborough having by great exertions persuaded
them to come up from the Rhine, upon receiving a guarantee for their
pay from the Dutch government. This raised his force to seventy-three
battalions and one hundred and twenty-four squadrons. The French had
seventy-four battalions and one hundred and twenty-eight squadrons;
but they had a much greater advantage in the homogeneous quality of
their troops, who were all of one country; while the forces of the
confederates were drawn from three different nations, speaking
different languages, and many of whom had never acted in the field
together. Cadogan, with six hundred horse, formed the vanguard of
Marlborough's army; and at daybreak on the 22d, he beheld the enemy's
army grouped in dense masses in the strong camp of Mont St Andre. As
their position stretched directly across the allied line of march, a
battle was unavoidable; and Marlborough no sooner was informed of it,
than with a joyous heart he prepared for the conflict.
The ground occupied by the enemy, and which has become so famous by
the battle of RAMILIES which followed, was on the summit of an
elevated plateau forming the highest ground in Brabant, immediately
above the two sources of the Little Gheet. The plateau above them is
varied by gentle undulations, interspersed with garden grounds, and
dotted with coppice woods. From it the two Gheets, the Mehaigne and
the Dyle, take their source, and flow in different directions, so that
it is the most elevated ground in the whole country. The descents from
the summit of the plateau to the Great Gheet are steep and abrupt; but
the other rivers rise in marshes and mosses, which are very wet, and
in some places impassable. Marlborough was well aware of the strength
of the position on the summit of this eminence, and he had used all
the dispatch in his power to reach it before the enemy; but Villeroi
had less ground to go over, and had his troops in battle array on the
summit before the English appeared in sight. The position which they
occupied ran along the front of a curve facing inwards, and
overhanging the sources of the Little Gheet. Their troops extended
along the crest of the ridge above the marshes, having the village of
Autre Eglise in its front on the extreme left, the villages of Offuz
and Ramilies in its front, and its extreme right on the high grounds
which overhung the course of the Mehaigne, and the old _chaussee_ of
Brunehand which ran near and parallel to its banks. Their right
stretched to the Mehaigne, on which it rested, and the village of
Tavieres on its banks was strongly occupied by foot-soldiers. The
French foot were drawn up in two lines, with the villages in their
front strongly occupied by infantry. In Ramilies alone twenty
battalions were posted. The great bulk of their horse was arranged
also in two lines on the right, across the chaussee of Brunehand, by
which part of the Allied column was to advance. On the highest point
of the ridge occupied by the French, and in the rear of their extreme
right, commanding the whole field of battle, behind the mass of
cavalry, was the tomb or barrow of Ottomond, a German hero of renown
in ancient days, which it was evident would become the subject of a
desperate strife between the contending parties in the conflict which
was approaching.
Marlborough no sooner came in sight of the enemy's position than he
formed his own plan of attack. His troops were divided into ten
columns; the cavalry being into two lines on each wing, the infantry
in six columns in the centre. He at once saw that the French right,
surmounted by the lofty plateau on which the tomb of Ottomond was
placed, was the key of the position, and against that he resolved to
direct the weight of his onset; but the better to conceal his real
design, he determined to make a vehement false attack on the village
of Autre Eglise and the French left. The nature of the ground occupied
by the allies and enemy respectively, favoured this design; for the
French were posted round the circumference of a segment, while the
allies occupied the centre and chord, so that they could move with
greater rapidity than their opponents from one part of the field to
another. Marlborough's stratagem was entirely successful. He formed,
in the first instance, with some ostentation, a weighty column of
attack opposite to the French left, menacing the village of Autre
Eglise. No sooner did Villeroi perceive this than he drew a
considerable body of infantry from his centre behind Offuz, and
marched them with the utmost expedition to reinforce the threatened
point on his left. When Marlborough saw this cross-movement fairly
commenced, skilfully availing himself of a rising ground on which the
front of his column of attack on his right was placed, he directed the
second line and columns in support when the front had reached the edge
of the plateau, where they obstructed the view of those behind them,
to halt in a hollow where they could not be seen, and immediately
after, still concealed from the enemy's sight, to defile rapidly to
the left till they came into the rear of the left centre. The Danish
horse, twenty squadrons strong, under the Duke of Wirtemberg, were at
the same time placed in a third line behind the cavalry of the left
wing, so as to bring the weight of his horse as well as foot into that
quarter.
At half past twelve the cannonade began on both sides, and that of the
French played heavily on the columns of the confederates advancing to
the attack. The Allied right wing directed against Autre Eglise,
steadily advanced up the slopes from the banks of the Little Gheet to
the edge of the plateau; but there they halted, deployed into line,
and opened their fire in such a position as to conceal entirely the
transfer of the infantry and cavalry in their rear to the Allied left.
No sooner had they reached it, than the attack began in real earnest,
and with a preponderating force in that direction. Colonel
Wertonville, with four Dutch battalions, advanced against Tavieres,
while twelve battalions in columns of companies, supported by a strong
reserve, began the attack on Ramilies in the left centre. The
vehemence of this assault soon convinced Villeroi that the real attack
of the Allies was in that quarter; but he had no reserve of foot to
support the troops in the villages, every disposable man having been
sent off to the left in the direction of Autre Eglise. In this
dilemma, he hastily ordered fourteen squadrons of horse to dismount,
and, supported by two Swiss battalions, moved them up to the support
of the troops in Tavieres. Before they could arrive, however, the
Dutch battalions had with great gallantry carried that village; and
Marlborough, directing the Danish horse, under the brave Duke of
Wirtemberg, against the flank of the dismounted dragoons, as they were
in column and marching up, speedily cut them in pieces, and hurled
back the Swiss in confusion on the French horse, who were advancing to
their support.
Following up his success, Overkirk next charged the first line of
advancing French cavalry with the first line of the Allied horse, and
such was the vigour of his onset, that the enemy were broken and
thrown back. But the second line of French and Bavarian horse soon
came up, and assailing Overkirk's men when they were disordered by
success, and little expecting another struggle, overthrew them without
difficulty, drove them back in great confusion, and almost entirely
restored the battle in that quarter. The danger was imminent that the
victorious French horse, having cleared the open ground of their
opponents, would wheel about and attack in rear the twelve battalions
who were warmly engaged with the attack on Ramilies. Marlborough
instantly saw the danger, and putting himself at the head of seventeen
squadrons at hand, himself led them on to stop the progress of the
victorious horse; while, at the same time, he sent orders for every
disposable sabre to come up from his right with the utmost expedition.
The moment was critical, and nothing but the admirable intrepidity and
presence of mind of the English general retrieved the Allied affairs.
Leading on the reserve of the Allied horse with his wonted gallantry,
under a dreadful fire from the French batteries on the heights behind
Ramilies, he was recognised by some French troopers, with whom he had
formerly served in the time of Charles II., who made a sudden rush at
him. They had well-nigh made him prisoner, for they succeeded in
surrounding the Duke before his men could come up to the rescue, and
he only extricated himself from the throng of assailants by fighting
his way out, like the knights of old, sword in hand. He next tried to
leap a ditch, but his horse fell in the attempt; and when mounting
another horse, given him by his aide-de-camp Captain Molesworth,
Colonel Bingfield, his equery, who held the stirrup, had his head
carried off by a cannon ball. The imminent danger of their beloved
general, however, revived the spirit of his troops, whom the dreadful
severity of the cannonade had, during the scuffle, thrown into
disorder; and, re-forming with great celerity, they again returned
with desperate resolution to the charge.
At this critical moment, when nothing was as yet decided, the twenty
fresh squadrons whom Marlborough had so opportunely called up from the
Allied right, were seen galloping at full speed, but still in regular
order, on the plain behind this desperate conflict. Halting directly
in rear of the spot where the horse on both sides were so vehemently
engaged, they wheeled into line, and advanced, in close order and
admirable array, to the support of the Duke. Encouraged by this
powerful reinforcement, the whole Allied cavalry re-formed, and
crowded forward in three lines, with loud shouts, to the attack of the
now intimidated and disheartened French. They no longer withstood the
onset, but, turning their horses' heads, fled with precipitation. The
low grounds between Ramilies and the old chaussee were quickly passed,
and the victorious horse, pressing up the slope on the opposite side,
erelong reached the summit of the plateau. The tomb of Ottomond, its
highest point, and visible from the whole field of battle, was soon
seen resplendent with sabres and cuirasses, amidst a throng of horse;
and deafening shouts, heard over the whole extent of both armies,
announced that the crowning point and key of the whole position was
carried.
But Villeroi was an able and determined general, and his soldiers
fought with the inherent bravery of the French nation. The contest,
thus virtually decided, was not yet over. A fierce fight was raging
around Ramilies, where the garrison of twenty French battalions
opposed a stout resistance to Schultz's grenadiers. By degrees,
however, the latter gained ground; two Swiss battalions, which had
long and resolutely held their ground, were at length forced back into
the village, and some of the nearest houses fell into the hands of the
Allies. Upon this the whole rushed forward, and drove the enemy in a
mass out of it towards the high grounds in their rear. The Marquis
Maffei, however, rallied two regiments of Cologne guards, in a hollow
way leading up from the village to the plateau, and opposed so
vigorous a resistance that he not only checked the pursuit but
regained part of the village. But Marlborough, whose eye was every
where, no sooner saw this than he ordered up twenty battalions in
reserve behind the centre, and they speedily cleared the village; and
Maffei, with his gallant troops, being charged in flank by the
victorious horse at the very time that he was driven out of the
village by the infantry, was made prisoner, and almost all his men
taken or destroyed.
The victory was now decided on the British left and centre, where
alone the real attack had been made. But so vehement had been the
onset, so desperate the passage of arms which had taken place, that
though the battle had lasted little more than three hours, the victors
were nearly in as great disorder as the vanquished. Horse, foot, and
artillery, were blended together in wild confusion; especially between
Ramilies and the Mehaigne, and thence up to the tomb of Ottomond, in
consequence of the various charges of all arms which had so rapidly
succeeded each other on the same narrow space. Marlborough, seeing
this, halted his troops, before hazarding any thing further, on the
ground where they stood, which, in the left and centre, was where the
enemy had been at the commencement of the action. Villeroi skilfully
availed himself of this breathing-time to endeavour to re-form his
broken troops, and take up a new line from Geest-a-Gerompont, on his
right, through Offuz to Autre Eglise, still held by its original
garrison, on his left. But in making the retrograde movement so as to
get his men into this oblique position, he was even more impeded and
thrown into disorder by the baggage waggons and dismounted guns on the
heights, than the Allies had been in the plain below. Marlborough
seeing this, resolved to give the enemy no time to rally, but again
sounding the charge, ordered infantry and cavalry to advance. A strong
column passed the morass in which the Little Gheet takes its rise,
directing their steps towards Offuz; but the enemy, panic-struck as at
Waterloo, by the general advance of the victors, gave way on all
sides. Offuz was abandoned without firing a shot; the cavalry pursued
with headlong fury, and soon the plateau of Mont St Andre was covered
with a mass of fugitives. The troops in observation on the right,
seeing the victory gained on the left and centre, of their own accord
joined in the pursuit, and soon made themselves masters of Autre
Eglise and the heights behind it. The Spanish and Bavarian
horse-guards made a gallant attempt to stem the flood of disaster, but
without attaining their object; it only led to their own destruction.
Charged by General Wood and Colonel Wyndham at the head of the English
horse-guards, they were cut to pieces. The rout now became universal,
and all resistance ceased. In frightful confusion, a disorganized mass
of horse and foot, abandoning their guns, streamed over the plateau,
poured headlong down the banks of the Great Gheet, on the other side,
and fled towards Louvain, which they reached in the most dreadful
disorder at two o'clock in the morning. The British horse, under Lord
Orkney, did not draw bridle from the pursuit till they reached the
neighbourhood of that fortress; having, besides fighting the battle,
marched full five-and-twenty miles that day. Marlborough halted for
the night, and established headquarters at Mildert, thirteen miles
from the field of battle, and five from Louvain.
The trophies of the battle of Ramilies were immense; but they were
even exceeded by its results. The loss of the French in killed and
wounded was 7000 men, and, in addition to that, 6000 prisoners were
taken. With the desertion in the days after the battle, they were
weakened by full 15,000 men. They lost fifty-two guns, their whole
baggage and pontoon train, all their caissons, and eighty standards
wrested from them in fair fight. Among the prisoners were the Princes
de Soubise and Rohan, and a son of Marshal Tallard. The victors lost
1066 killed, and 2567 wounded, in all, 3633. The great and unusual
proportion of killed to the wounded, shows how desperate and hand to
hand, as in ancient battles, the fighting had been. Overkirk nobly
supported the Duke in this action, and not only repeatedly charged at
the head of his horse, but continued on horseback in the pursuit till
one in the morning, when he narrowly escaped death from a Bavarian
officer whom he had made prisoner, and given back his sword, saying,
"You are a gentleman, and may keep it." The base wretch no sooner got
it into his hand than he made a lounge at the Dutch general, but
fortunately missed his blow, and was immediately cut down for his
treachery by Overkirk's orderly.
The immediate result of this splendid victory, was the acquisition of
nearly all Austrian Flanders--Brussels, Louvain, Mechlin, Alort,
Luise, and nearly all the great towns of Brabant, opened their gates
immediately after. Ghent and Bruges speedily followed the example; and
Daun and Oudenarde also soon declared for the Austrian cause. Of all
the towns in Flanders, Antwerp, Ostend, Nieuport, and Dunkirk alone
held out for the French; and to their reduction the Duke immediately
turned his attention. The public transports in Holland knew no bounds;
they much exceeded what had been felt for the victory of Blenheim, for
that only saved Germany, but this delivered themselves. The wretched
jealousy which had so long thwarted the Duke, as it does every other
really great man, was fairly overpowered in "the electric shock of a
nation's gratitude." In England, the rejoicings were equally
enthusiastic, and a solemn thanksgiving, at which the Queen attended
in person at St Paul's, gave a willing vent to the general
thankfulness. "Faction and the French," as Bolingbroke expressed
it,[11] were all that Marlborough had to fear, and he had fairly
conquered both. But the snake was scotched, not killed, and he
replenished his venom, and prepared future stings even during the roar
of triumphant cannon, and the festive blaze of rejoicing cities.[12]
The French army, after this terrible defeat, retired in the deepest
dejection towards French Flanders, leaving garrisons in the principal
fortresses which still held out for them. Marlborough made his
triumphant entry into Brussels in great pomp on the 28th May, amidst
the acclamations of the inhabitants. The Three Estates of Brabant
assembled there, acknowledged Charles III. for their sovereign, and
received, in return, a guarantee from the English government and the
States-general, that the _joyeuse entree_, the Magna Charta of
Flanders, should be faithfully observed. "Every where, says
Marlborough, the joy was great at being delivered from the insolence
and exactions of the French." The victory of Ramilies produced no less
effect on the northern courts, where jealousies and lukewarmness had
hitherto proved so pernicious to the common cause. The King of
Prussia, who had hitherto kept aloof, and suspended the march of his
troops, now on the mediation of Marlborough became reconciled to the
Emperor and the States-general; and the Elector of Hanover, forgetting
his apprehensions about the English succession, was among the foremost
to offer his congratulations, and make a tender of his forces to the
now triumphant cause. It is seldom that the prosperous want friends.
The Dutch were clear, after the submission of Brabant, to levy
contributions in it as a conquered country, to relieve themselves of
part of the expenses of the war; and Godolphin, actuated by the same
short-sighted views, was eager to replenish the English exchequer from
the same source. But Marlborough, like Wellington in after days, had
magnanimity and wisdom enough to see the folly, as well as injustice,
of thus alienating infant allies at the moment of their conversion,
and he combated the project so successfully, that it was
abandoned.[13] At the same time, he preserved the strictest discipline
on the part of his troops, and took every imaginable precaution to
secure the affections and allay the apprehensions of the inhabitants
of the ceded provinces. The good effects of this wise and conciliatory
policy were soon apparent. Without firing a shot, the Allies gained
greater advantages during the remainder of the campaign, than they
could have done by a series of bloody sieges, and the sacrifice of
thirty thousand men. Nor was it less advantageous to the English
general than to the common cause; for it delivered him, for that
season at least, from the thraldom of a council of war, the invariable
resource of a weak, and bane of a lofty mind.[14]
The Estates of Brabant, assembled at Brussels, sent injunctions to
the governor of Antwerp, Ghent, and all the other fortresses within
their territories, to declare for Charles III., and admit these
troops. The effects of this, coupled with the discipline preserved by
the Allied troops, and the protection from contributions, was
incredible. No sooner were the orders from the States at Brussels
received at Antwerp, than a schism broke out between the French
regiments in the garrison and the Walloon guards, the latter declaring
for Charles III. The approach of Marlborough's army, and the
intelligence of the submission of the other cities of Brabant, brought
matters to a crisis; and after some altercation, it was agreed that
the French troops should march out with the honours of war, and be
escorted to Bouchain, within the frontier of their own country. On the
6th June this magnificent fortress, which it had cost the Prince of
Parma so vast an expenditure of blood and treasure to reduce, and
which Napoleon said was itself worth a kingdom, was gained without
firing a shot. Oudenarde, which had been in vain besieged in the last
war by William III. at the head of sixty thousand men, at the same
time followed the example; and Ghent and Bruges opened their gates.
Flanders, bristling with fortresses, and the possession of which in
the early part of the war had been of such signal service to the
French, was, with the exception of Ostend, Dunkirk, and two or three
smaller places, entirely gained by the consternation produced by a
single battle. Well might Marlborough say, "the consequences of our
victory are almost incredible. A whole country, with so many strong
places, delivered up without the least resistance, shows, not only the
great loss they must have sustained, but likewise the terror and
consternation they are in."[15]
At this period, Marlborough hoped the war would be speedily brought to
a close, and that a glorious peace would reward his own and his
country's efforts. His thoughts reverted constantly, as his private
correspondence shows, to home, quiet, and domestic happiness. To the
Duchess he wrote at this period--"You are very kind in desiring I
would not expose myself. Be assured, I love you so well, and am so
desirous of ending my days quietly with you, that I shall not venture
myself but when it is absolutely necessary; and I am sure you are so
kind to me, and wish so well to the common cause, that you had rather
see me dead than not do my duty. I am persuaded that this campaign
will bring in a good peace; and I beg of you to do all that you can,
that the house of Woodstock may be carried up as much as possible,
that I may have the prospect of living in it."[16]--But these
anticipations were not destined to be realized; and before he retired
into the vale of years, the hero was destined to drain to the dregs
the cup of envy, jealousy, and ingratitude.
His first step of importance, after consolidating the important
conquests he had made, and averting the cupidity of the Dutch, which,
by levying contributions on their inhabitants, threatened to endanger
them before they were well secured, was to undertake the siege of
Ostend, the most considerable place in Flanders, which still held out
for the French interest. This place, celebrated for its great
strength, and the long siege of three years which it had withstood
against the Spanish under Spinola, was expected to make a very
protracted resistance; but such was the terror now inspired by
Marlborough's name, that it was reduced much sooner than had been
anticipated. Every preparation had been made for a protracted
resistance. A fleet of nine ships of the line lay off the harbour, and
a formidable besieging train was brought up from Antwerp and Brussels.
Trenches were opened on the 28th June; the counterscarp was blown in
on the 6th July; and the day following, the besieged, after a
fruitless sally, capitulated, and the Flemish part of the garrison
entered the service of the Allies. The garrison was still five
thousand strong, when it surrendered; two ships of the line were
taken in the harbour; and the total loss of the besiegers was only
five hundred men.
Menin was next besieged, but it made a more protracted resistance. Its
great strength was derived from the means which the governor of the
fortress possessed of flooding at will the immense low plains in which
it is situated. Its fortifications had always been considered as one
of the masterpieces of Vauban; the garrison was ample; and the
governor a man of resolution, who was encouraged to make a vigorous
resistance, by the assurances of succour which he had received from
the French government. In effect, Louis XIV. had made the greatest
efforts to repair the consequences of the disaster at Ramilies.
Marshal Marsin had been detached from the Rhine with eighteen
battalions and fourteen squadrons; and, in addition to that, thirty
battalions and forty squadrons were marching from Alsace. These great
reinforcements, with the addition of nine battalions which were in the
lines on the Dyle when the battle of Ramilies was fought, would, when
all assembled, have raised the French army to one hundred and ten
battalions, and one hundred and forty squadrons--or above one hundred
thousand men; whereas Marlborough, after employing thirty-two
battalions in the siege, could only spare for the covering army about
seventy-two battalions and eighty squadrons. The numerical
superiority, therefore, was very great on the side of the enemy,
especially when the Allies were divided by the necessity of carrying
on the siege; and Villeroi, who had lost the confidence of his men,
had been replaced by the Duke de Vendome, one of the best generals in
the French service, illustrated by his recent victory over the
Imperialists in Italy. He loudly gave out that he would raise the
siege, and approached the covering army closely, as if with that
design. But Marlborough persevered in his design; for, to use his own
words, "The Elector of Bavaria says, he is promised a hundred and ten
battalions, and they are certainly stronger in horse than we. But even
if they had greater numbers, I neither think it is their interest nor
their inclination to venture a battle; for our men are in heart, and
theirs are cowed."[17]
Considerable difficulties were experienced in the first instance in
getting up the siege equipage, in consequence of the inundations which
were let loose; but a drought having set in, when the blockade began,
in the beginning of August, these obstacles were erelong overcome, and
on the 9th August the besiegers' fire began, while Marlborough took
post at Helchin to cover the siege. On the 18th, the fire of the
breaching batteries had been so effectual, that it was deemed
practicable to make an assault on the covered way. As a determined
resistance was anticipated, the Duke repaired to the spot to
superintend the attack. At seven in the evening, the signal was given
by the explosion of two mines, and the troops, the English in front,
rushed to the assault. They soon cut down the palisades, and, throwing
their grenades before them, erelong got into the covered way; but
there they were exposed to a dreadful fire from two ravelins which
enfiladed it. For two hours they bore it without flinching, labouring
hard to erect barricades, so as to get under cover; which was at
length done, but not before fourteen hundred of the brave assailants
had been struck down. This success, though thus dearly purchased, was
however decisive. The establishment of the besiegers in this important
lodgement, in the heart as it were of their works, so distressed the
enemy, that on the 22d they hoisted the white flag, and capitulated,
still 4300 strong, on the following day. The reduction of this strong
and celebrated fortress gave the most unbounded satisfaction to the
Allies, as it not only materially strengthened the barrier against
France; but having taken place in presence of the Duke de Vendome and
his powerful army, drawn together with such diligence to raise the
siege, it afforded the strongest proof of the superiority they had now
acquired over their enemy in the field.[18]
Upon the fall of Menin, Vendome collected his troops, and occupied a
position behind the Lys and the Dyle, in order to cover Lille, against
which he supposed the intentions of Marlborough were directed. But he
had another object in view, and immediately sat down before
Dendermonde, still keeping post with his covering army at Helchin,
which barred the access to that fortress. Being situated on the banks
of the Scheldt, it was so completely within the power of the governor
to hinder the approaches of the besiegers, by letting out the waters,
that the King of France said, on hearing they had commenced its
siege--"They must have an army of ducks to take it." An extraordinary
drought at this period, however, which lasted seven weeks, had so
lowered the Scheldt and canals, that the approaches were pushed with
great celerity, and on the 5th September the garrison surrendered at
discretion. Marlborough wrote to Godolphin on this occasion--"The
taking of Dendermonde, making the garrison prisoners of war, was more
than could have been expected; but I saw they were in a consternation.
That place could never have been taken but by the hand of God, which
gave us seven weeks without rain. The rain began the day after we had
taken possession, and continued without intermission for the three
next days."[19]
Ath was the next object of attack. This small but strong fortress is
of great importance, as lying on the direct road from Mons to Brussels
by Halle; and, in consequence of that circumstance, it was rendered a
fortress of the first order, when the barrier of strongholds, insanely
demolished by Joseph II. before the war of the Revolution, was
restored by the Allies, under the direction of Wellington, after its
termination. Marlborough entrusted the direction of the attack to
Overkirk, while he himself occupied, with the covering army, the
position of Leuze. Vendome's army was so much discouraged that he did
not venture to disturb the operations; but retiring behind the
Scheldt, between Conde and Montagne, contented himself with throwing
strong garrisons into Mons and Charleroi, which he apprehended would
be the next object of attack. The operations of the besiegers against
Ath were pushed with great vigour; and on the 4th October the
garrison, eight hundred strong, all that remained out of two thousand
who manned the works when the siege began, surrendered prisoners of
war. Marlborough was very urgent after this success to undertake the
siege of Mons, which would have completed the conquest of Brabant and
Flanders; but he could not persuade the Dutch authorities to furnish
him with the requisite stores to undertake it.[20] After a parade of
his army in the open field near Cambron, in the hope of drawing
Vendome, who boasted of having one hundred and forty battalions and
one hundred and eighty squadrons at his command, to a battle, in which
he was disappointed, he resigned the command to Overkirk, put the army
into winter quarters, and hastened to Brussels, to commence his
arduous duties of stilling the jealousies and holding together the
discordant powers of the alliance.[21]
Marlborough was received in the most splendid manner, and with
unbounded demonstrations of joy, at Brussels, not only by the
inconstant populace, but by the deputies of the Three Estates of
Brabant, which were there assembled in regular and permanent
sovereignty. Well might they lavish their demonstrations of respect
and gratitude on the English general; for never in modern times had
more important or glorious events signalized a successful campaign. In
five months the power of France had been so completely broken, and the
towering temper of its inhabitants so lowered, that their best
general, at the head of above a hundred thousand men, did not venture
to measure swords with the Allies, not more than two-thirds of their
numerical strength in the field. By the effects of a single victory,
the whole of Brabant and Flanders, studded with the strongest
fortresses in Europe, each of which, in former wars, had required
months--some, years--for their reduction, had been gained to the
Allied arms. Between those taken on the field of Ramilies, and
subsequently in the besieged fortresses, above twenty thousand men had
been made prisoners, and twice that number lost to the enemy by the
sword, sickness, and desertion; and France now made head against the
Allies in Flanders only by drawing together their forces from all
other quarters, and starving the war in Italy and on the Rhine, as
well as straining every nerve in the interior. This state of almost
frenzied exertion could not last. Already the effects of Marlborough's
triumph at the commencement of the campaign had appeared, in the total
defeat of the French in their lines before Turin, by Prince Eugene, on
the 18th September, and their expulsion from Italy. It was the
reinforcements procured for him, and withheld from his opponents, by
Marlborough, which obtained for him this glorious victory, at which
the English general, with the generosity of true greatness, rejoiced
even more sincerely than he had done in any triumphs of his own;[22]
while Eugene, with equal greatness of mind, was the first to ascribe
his success mainly to the succours sent him by the Duke of
Marlborough.[23]
But all men are not Marlboroughs or Eugenes: the really great alone
can witness success without envy, or achieve it without selfishness.
In the base herd of ignoble men who profited by the efforts of these
great leaders, the malignant passions were rapidly gaining strength by
the very magnitude of their triumphs. The removal of danger was
producing its usual effect, among the Allies, of reviving jealousy.
Conquest was spreading its invariable discord in the cupidity to share
its fruits. These divisions had early appeared after the battle of
Ramilies, when the Emperor Joseph, as a natural mark of gratitude to
the general who had delivered his people from their oppressors, as
well as from a regard to his own interests, appointed Marlborough to
the general command as viceroy of the Netherlands. The English general
was highly gratified by this mark of confidence and gratitude; and the
appointment was cordially approved of by Queen Anne and the English
cabinet, who without hesitation authorized Marlborough to accept the
proffered dignity. But the Dutch, who had already begun to conceive
projects of ambition by an accession of territory to themselves on the
side of Flanders, evinced such umbrage at this appointment, as tending
to throw the administration of the Netherlands entirely into the hands
of the English and Austrians, that Marlborough had the magnanimity to
solicit permission to decline an honour which threatened to breed
disunion in the alliance.[24] This conduct was as disinterested as it
was patriotic; for the appointments of the government, thus declined
from a desire for the public good, were no less than sixty thousand
pounds a-year.
Although, however, Marlborough thus renounced this splendid
appointment, yet the court of Vienna were not equally tractable, and
evinced the utmost jealousy at the no longer disguised desire of the
Dutch to gain an accession of territory, and the barrier of which they
were so passionately desirous, at the expense of the Austrian
Netherlands. The project also got wind, and the inhabitants of
Brabant, whom difference of religion and old-established national
rivalry had long alienated from the Dutch, were so much alarmed at the
prospect of being transferred to their hated neighbours, that it at
once cooled their ardour in the cause of the alliance, and went far to
sow the seeds of irrepressible dissension among them. The Emperor,
therefore, again pressed the appointment on Marlborough; but from the
same lofty motives he continued to decline, professing a willingness,
at the same time, to give the Emperor every aid privately in the new
government which was in his power; so that the Emperor was obliged to
give a reluctant consent. Notwithstanding this refusal, the jealousy
of the Dutch was such, that on the revival of a report that the
government had been again confirmed to the Duke of Marlborough, they
were thrown into such a ferment, that in the public congress the
Pensionary could not avoid exclaiming in the presence of the English
ambassador, "Mon Dieu! est-il possible qu'on voudrait faire ce pas
sans notre participation?"[25]
The French government were soon informed of this jealousy, and of the
open desire of the Dutch for an accession of territory on the side of
Flanders, at the expense of Austria; and they took advantage of it,
early in the summer of 1706, to open a secret negotiation with the
States-general for the conclusion of a separate peace with that
republic. The basis of this accommodation was to be a renunciation by
the Duke of Anjou of his claim to the crown of Spain, upon receiving
an equivalent in Italy: he offered to recognize Anne as Queen of
England, and professed the utmost readiness to secure for the Dutch,
_at the expense of Austria_, that barrier in the Netherlands, to which
he conceived them to be so well entitled. These proposals elated the
Dutch government to such a degree, that they began to take a high
hand, and assume a dictatorial tone at the Hague: and it was the
secret belief that they would, if matters came to extremities, be
supported by France in this exorbitant demand for a slice of Austria,
that made them resist so strenuously the government of the Low
Countries being placed in such firm and vigorous hands as those of
Marlborough. Matters had come to such a pass in October and November
1706, that Godolphin regarded affairs as desperate, and thought the
alliance was on the point of being dissolved.[26] Thus was
Marlborough's usual winter campaign with the confederates rendered
more difficult on this than it had been on any preceding occasion; for
he had now to contend with the consequences of his own success, and
allay the jealousies and stifle the cupidity which had sprung up, out
of the prospect of the magnificent spoil which he himself had laid at
the feet of the Allies.
But in this dangerous crisis, Marlborough's great diplomatic ability,
consummate address, and thorough devotion to the common good, stood
him in as good stead as his military talents had done him in the
preceding campaign with Villeroi and Vendome. In the beginning of
November, he repaired to the Hague, and though he found the Dutch in
the first instance so extravagant in their ideas of the barrier they
were to obtain, that he despaired of effecting any settlement of the
differences between them and the Emperor;[27] yet he at length
succeeded, though with very great difficulty, in appeasing, for the
time, the jealousies between them and the cabinet of Vienna, and
obtaining a public renewal of the alliance for the prosecution of the
war. The publication of this treaty diffused the utmost satisfaction
among the ministers of the Allied powers assembled at the Hague; and
this was further increased by the breaking off, at the same time, of a
negotiation which had pended for some months between Marlborough and
the Elector of Bavaria, for a separate treaty with that prince, who
had become disgusted with the French alliance. But all Marlborough's
efforts failed to make any adjustment of the disputed matter of the
barrier, on which the Dutch were so obstinately set; and finding them
equally unreasonable and intractable on that subject, he deemed
himself fortunate when he obtained the adjourning of the question, by
the consent of all concerned, till the conclusion of a general peace.
After the adjustment of this delicate and perilous negotiation,
Marlborough returned to England, where he was received with transports
of exultation by all classes of the people. He was conducted in one of
the royal carriages, amidst a splendid procession of all the nobility
of the kingdom, to Temple Bar, where he was received by the city
authorities, by whom he was feasted in the most magnificent manner at
Vintners' Hall. Thanks were voted to him by both Houses of Parliament;
and when he took his seat in the House of Peers, the Lord Keeper
addressed him in these just and appropriate terms--"What your Grace
has performed in this last campaign has far exceeded all hopes, even
of such as were most affectionate and partial to their country's
interest and glory. The advantages you have gained against the enemy
are of such a nature, so conspicuous in themselves, so undoubtedly
owing to your courage and conduct, so sensibly and universally
beneficial to the whole confederacy, that to attempt to adorn them
with the colouring of words would be vain and inexcusable. Therefore I
decline it, the rather because I should certainly offend that great
modesty which alone can and does add lustre to your actions, and which
in your Grace's example has successfully withstood as great trials, as
that virtue has met with in any instance whatsoever." The House of
Commons passed a similar resolution; and the better to testify the
national gratitude, an annuity of L5000 a-year, charged upon the
Post-Office, was settled upon the Duke and Duchess, and their
descendants male or female; and the dukedom, which stood limited to
heirs-male, was extended also to heirs-female, "in order," as it was
finely expressed, "that England might never be without a title which
might recall the remembrance of so much glory."
So much glory, however, produced its usual effect in engendering
jealousy in little minds. The Whigs had grown spiteful against that
illustrious pillar of their party; they were tired of hearing him
called the just. Both Godolphin and Marlborough became the objects of
excessive jealousy to their own party; and this, combined with the
rancour of the Tories, who could never forgive his desertion of his
early patron the Duke of York, had well-nigh proved fatal to him when
at the very zenith of his usefulness and popularity. Intrigue was rife
at St James's. Parties were strangely intermixed and disjointed. Some
of the moderate Tories were in power; many covetous Whigs were out of
it. Neither party stood on great public principle, a sure sign of
instability in the national councils, and ultimate neglect of the
national interests. Harley's intrigues had become serious; the prime
minister, Godolphin, had threatened to resign. In this alarming
juncture of domestic affairs, the presence of Marlborough produced its
usual pacifying and benign influence. In a long interview which he had
with the Queen on his first private audience, he settled all
differences; Godolphin was persuaded to withdraw his resignation; the
cabinet was re-constructed on a new and harmonious basis, Harley and
Bolingbroke being the only Tories of any note who remained in power;
and this new peril to the prosecution of the war, and the cause of
European independence, was removed.
Marlborough's services to England and the cause of European
independence in this campaign, recall one mournful feeling to the
British annalist. All that he had won for his country--all that
Wellington, with still greater difficulty, and amidst yet brighter
glories, regained for it, has been lost. It has been lost, too, not by
the enemies of the nation, but by itself; not by an opposite faction,
but by the very party over whom his own great exploits had shed such
imperishable lustre. Antwerp, the first-fruits of Ramilies--Antwerp,
the last reward of Waterloo--Antwerp, to hold which against England
Napoleon lost his crown, has been abandoned to France! An English
fleet has combined with a French army to wrest from Holland the
barrier of Dutch independence, and the key to the Low Countries. The
barrier so passionately sought by the Dutch has been wrested from
them, and wrested from them by British hands; a revolutionary power
has been placed on the throne of Belgium; Flanders, instead of the
outwork of Europe against France, has become the outwork of France
against Europe. The tricolor flag waves in sight of Bergen-op-Zoom;
within a month after the first European war, the whole coast from
Bayonne to the Texel will be arrayed against Britain! The Whigs of
1832 have undone all that the Whigs of 1706 had done--all that the
glories of 1815 had secured. Such is the way in which nations are
ruined by the blindness of faction.
[Footnote 1: Continued from No. I., in July 1845, Vol. lviii. p. 1.]
[Footnote 2: "C'est le retard de toutes les troupes Allemandes qui
derange nos affaires. Je ne saurais vous expliquer la situation ou
nous sommes qu'en vous envoyant les deux lettres ci jointes,--l'une
que je viens de recevoir du Prince de Bade, et l'autre la reponse que
je lui fais. En verite notre etat est plus a plaindre que vous ne
croyez; mais je vous prie que cela n'aille pas outre. _Nous perdons la
plus belle occasion du monde--manque des troupes qui devaient etre ici
il y a deja longtemps._ Pour le reste de l'artillerie Hollandaise, et
les provisions qui peuvent arriver de Mayence, vous les arreterez,
s'il vous plait, pour quelques jours, jusqu'a ce que je vous en
ecrive."--_Marlborough a M. Pesters; Treves, 31 Mai 1705. Despatches_,
II. 60-1.]
[Footnote 3: Even so late as the 8th June, Marlborough wrote.--"J'ai
d'abord pris poste dans ce camp, ou je me trouve a portee
d'entreprendre la siege de Saar-Louis, si les troupes qui devaient
avoir ete ici il y a quelques jours m'avaient joint. Cependant je n'ai
pas jusqu'ici un seul homme qui ne soit a la solde d'Angleterre ou de
la Hollande. Les troupes de Bade ne peuvent arriver avant le 21 au
plutot; quelques-uns des Prussiens sont encore plus en arriere; et
pour les trois mille chevaux que les princes voisins devaient nous
fournir pour mener l'artillerie et les munitions, et sans quoi il nous
sera impossible d'agir, je n'en ai aucune nouvelle, nonobstant toutes
mes instances. J'ai grand peur meme qu'il n'y ait, a l'heure meme que
je vous ecris celle-ci, des regulations en chemin de la Haye qui
detruiront entierement tous nos projets de ce cote. Cette situation me
donne tant d'inquietude que je ne saurais me dispenser de vous prier
d'en vouloir part a sa Majeste Imperiale."--_Marlborough au Comte de
Wroteslau; Elft, 8 Juin 1705. Despatches_, II. 85.]
[Footnote 4: "Par ces contretemps tous nos projets de ce cote-ci sont
evanouis, au moins pour le present; et j'espere que V.A. me fera la
justice de croire que j'ai fait tout ce qui a dependu de moi pour les
faire reussir. Si je pouvais avoir l'honneur d'entretenir V.A. pour
une seule heure, je lui dirai bien des choses, par ou elle verrait
combien je suis a plaindre. J'avais 94 escadrons et 72 bataillons,
tous a la solde de l'Angleterre et de la Hollande; de sorte que, si
l'on m'avait seconde nous aurions une des plus glorieuses campagnes
qu'on pouvait souhaiter. Apres un tel traitment, V.A., je suis sur, ne
m'aurait pas blame si j'avais pris la resolution _de ne jamais plus
servir_, comme je ne ferai pas aussi, je vous assure, apres cette
campagne, a moins que de pouvoir prendre des mesures avec l'empereur
sur lesquelles je pourrais entierement me fier."--_Marlborough a
Eugene, 21 Juin 1705. Despatches_, II. 124.]
[Footnote 5: "It is a justice I owe to the Duke of Marlborough to
state, that the whole honour of the enterprise, executed with so much
skill and courage, is entirely due to him."--_Overkirk to
States-general, 19th July 1705. Coxe_, II. 151.]
[Footnote 6: "On Wednesday, it was unanimously resolved we should pass
the Dyle, but that afternoon there fell so much rain as rendered it
impracticable; but the fair weather this morning made me determine to
attempt it. Upon this the deputies held a council with all the
generals of Overkirk's army, who have unanimously retracted their
opinions, and declared the passage of the river too dangerous, which
resolution, in my opinion, _will ruin the whole campaign_. They have,
at the same time, proposed to me to attack the French on their left;
but I know they will let that fall also, as soon as they see the
ground. It is very mortifying to meet more obstruction from friends
than from enemies; but that is now the case with me; yet I dare not
show my resentment for fear of alarming the Dutch."--_Marlborough to
Godolphin, 29th July 1705. Coxe_, II. 158.]
[Footnote 7: Bolingbroke to Marlborough, August 18, 1705. _Coxe_, II.
160.]
[Footnote 8: Marlborough to the States, Wavre, 19th August 1705.
_Desp._ II. 224.]
[Footnote 9: Dutch Generals' Mem. _Coxe_, II. 174.]
[Footnote 10: "Several prisoners whom we have taken, as well as the
deserters, assure us, that they should have made no other defence but
such as might have given them time to draw off their army to Brussels,
where their baggage was already gone. By this you may imagine how I am
vexed, seeing very plainly I am joined with people who will never do
any thing."--_Marlborough to Godolphin, August 24 1705._
"M. Overkirk et moi avons d'abord ete reconnaitre les postes que nous
voulions attaquer, et l'armee etant rangee en bataille sur le midi,
nous avions tout d'esperer, avec la benediction du ciel, vu notre
superiorite, et la bonte des troupes, une heuruse journee; mais MM.
les deputes de l'etat ayant voulu consulter leurs generaux, et les
trouvant de differentes sentiments d'avec M. Overkirk et moi, ils
n'ont pas voulu passer outre. De sorte que tout notre dessein, apres
l'avoir mene jusque la, a echoue, et nous avons rebrousse chemin pour
aller commencer la demolition des Lignes, et prendre Leau. Vous pouvez
bien croire, Monsieur, que je suis au desespoir d'etre oblige
d'essuyer encore ce contretemps; mais je vois bien qu'il ne faut pas
plus songer a agir offensivement avec ces messieurs, puisqu' ils ne
veulent rien risquer quand meme ils ont tout l'advantage de leur
cote."--_Marlborough au Comte de Wartenberg, Wavre, 20 Aout 1705.
Despatches_, II. 226.]
[Footnote 11: "This vast addition of renown which your Grace has
acquired, and the wonderful preservation of your life, are subjects
upon which I can never express a thousandth part of what I feel.
_France and faction are the only enemies England has to fear_, and
your Grace will conquer both; at least, while you beat the French, you
give a strength to the Government which the other dares not contend
with."--_Bolingbroke to Marlborough, May 28, 1706. Coxe_, II. 358.]
[Footnote 12: "I shall attend the Queen at the thanksgiving on
Thursday next: I assure you I shall do it, from every vein within me,
having scarce any thing else to support either my head or heart. The
_animosity and inveteracy one has to struggle against is
unimaginable_, not to mention the difficulty of obtaining things to be
done that are reasonable, or of satisfying people with reason when
they are done."--_Godolphin to Marlborough, May 24, 1706._]
[Footnote 13: Duke of Marlborough to Mr Secretary Harley, June 14,
1706.]
[Footnote 14: "The consequences of this battle are likely to be
greater than that of Blenheim; for we have now the whole summer before
us, and, with the blessing of God, I will make the best use of it.
_For as I have had no council of war before this battle, so I hope to
have none during the whole campaign_; and I think we may make such
work of it as may give the Queen the glory of making a safe and
honourable peace, for the blessing of God is certainly with
us."--_Marlborough to Lord Godolphin, May 27, 1706. Coxe, II. 365._]
[Footnote 15: Marlborough to Mr Secretary Harley, 3d June 1706. _Desp.
II._ 554.]
[Footnote 16: Marlborough to Duchess of Marlborough, May 31, 1706.]
[Footnote 17: Marlborough to Secretary Harley, Helchin, 9th August
1706. _Desp._ III. 69.]
[Footnote 18: Marlborough to Duke of Savoy, Helchin, 25th August 1706.
_Desp._ III. 101.]
[Footnote 19: Marlborough to Godolphin, September 4, 1706. _Coxe_,
III. 10.]
[Footnote 20: "If the Dutch can furnish ammunition for the siege of
Mons, we shall undertake it; for if the weather continues fair, we
shall have it much cheaper this year than the next, when they have had
time to recruit their army. The taking of that town would be a very
great advantage to us for the opening of next campaign, which we must
make if we would bring France to such a peace as will give us quiet
hereafter."--_Marlborough to Godolphin, October 14, 1706. Coxe_, III.
14.]
[Footnote 21: "M. de Vendome tells his officers he has one hundred and
forty battalions and one hundred and eighty squadrons, and that, if my
Lord Marlborough gives him an opportunity, he will pay him a visit
before this campaign ends. I believe he has neither will nor power to
do it, which we shall see quickly, for we are now camped in so open a
country that if he marches to us we cannot refuse fighting."--_Marlborough
to Lord Godolphin, October 14, 1706. Ibid._]
[Footnote 22: "I have now received confirmation of the success in
Italy, from the Duke of Savoy and Prince Eugene, and it is impossible
for me to express the joy it has given me; _for I not only esteem, but
really love, that Prince_. This glorious action must bring France so
low, that if our friends can be persuaded to carry on the war one year
longer with vigour, we could not fail, with God's blessing, to have
such a peace as would give us quiet in our days. But the Dutch are at
this time unaccountable."--_Marlborough to the Duchess, Sept. 26,
1706. Coxe_, III. 20, 21.]
[Footnote 23: "Your highness, I am sure, will rejoice at the signal
advantage which the arms of his Imperial Majesty and the Allies have
gained. _You have had so great a hand in it, by the succours you have
procured_, that you must permit me to thank you again."--_Eugene to
Marlborough, 20th Sept. 1706. Coxe_, III. 20.]
[Footnote 24: "This appointment by the Emperor has given some
uneasiness in Holland, by thinking that the Emperor has a mind to put
the power in this country into the Queen's hands, in order that they
may have nothing to do with it. If I should find the same thing by the
Pensionary, and that nothing can cure this jealousy but my desiring to
be excused from accepting this commission, I hope the Queen will allow
of it; for the advantage and honour I have by this commission is _very
insignificant in comparison of the fatal consequences that might be if
it should cause a jealousy between the two nations_. And though the
appointments of this government are sixty thousand pounds a-year, I
shall with pleasure excuse myself, since I am convinced it is for her
service, if the States should not make it their request, which they
are very far from doing."--_Marlborough to Godolphin, July 1 and 8,
1706. Coxe_, III. 391, 393.]
[Footnote 25: Mr Stepney to Duke of Marlborough, _Hague, Jan. 4, 1707.
Coxe_, II. 407.]
[Footnote 26: "Lord Somers has shown me a long letter which he has had
from the Pensionary, very intent _upon settling the barrier_. The
inclinations of the Dutch are so violent and plain, that I am of
opinion nothing will be able to prevent their taking effect but our
being as plain with them upon the same subject, and threatening to
publish to the whole world the terms for which they solicit."--_Lord
Godolphin to Marlborough_, Oct. 24, 1706. Coxe, III. 74.]
[Footnote 27: "My inclinations will lead me to stay as little as
possible at the Hague, though the Pensionary tells me I must stay to
finish the succession treaty and their barrier, which, should I stay
the whole winter, I am very confident would not be brought to
perfection. For they are of so many minds, and are all so very
extravagant about their barrier, that I despair of doing any thing
good till they are more reasonable, which they will not be till they
see that they have it not in their power to dispose of the whole Low
Countries at their will and pleasure, in which the French flatter
them."--_Marlborough to Godolphin, Oct. 29, 1706. Coxe_, III. 79.]
THE STUDENT OF SALAMANCA.
PART II.
"Por estas montanas,
Facciosos siguiendo,
Vamos defendiendo
La Constitucion."
_Himno de Navarra._
Rarely had the alameda of the picturesque old town of Logrono
presented a gayer or more brilliant appearance than on a certain July
evening of the year 1834. The day had been sultry in the extreme, and
the sun was touching the horizon before the fair Riojanas ventured to
quit their artificially darkened rooms, and the cool shelter of their
well-screened _miradores_, for the customary promenade. It was
pleasant, certainly, in those sombre apartments, and beneath those
thick awnings, which excluded each ray of sun, although they did not
prevent what little breeze there was from circulating freely between
the heavy stone balustrades or quaintly moulded iron-work of the
spacious balconies, rustling the leaves and blossoms of the
orange-trees, and wafting their fragrance to the languid beauties who
sat dozing, chatting, or love-making within. But if the _farniente_
and languor induced by the almost tropical heat, were so agreeable as
to tempt to their longer indulgence, on the other hand the _paseo_,
that indispensable termination to a Spaniard's day, had, upon the
evening in question, peculiar attractions for the inhabitants of
Logrono, and especially for their fairer portion. Within the preceding
three days, a body of troops, in number nearly twenty thousand men, a
large portion of them the pick and flower of the Spanish army, had
been concentrated at Logrono, whence, under the command of Rodil--a
general of high reputation--they were to advance into Navarre, and
exterminate the daring rebels, who, for some months past, had
disturbed the peace of Spain. All had been noise and movement in the
town during those three days; every stable full of horses, every house
crowded with soldiers; artillery and baggage-waggons encumbering the
squares and suburbs; the streets resounding with the harsh clang of
trumpets and monotonous beat of drums; muleteers loading and unloading
their beasts; commissaries bustling about for rations; beplumed and
embroidered staff-officers galloping to and fro with orders; the clash
of arms and tramp of horses in the barrack-yards; the clatter of
wine-cups, joyous song, and merry tinkle of the guitar, from the
various wine-houses in which the light-hearted soldiery were snatching
a moment of enjoyment in the intervals of duty;--such were a few of
the sights and sounds which for the time animated and gave importance
to the usually quiet town of Logrono. Towards evening, the throng and
bustle within the town diminished, and were transferred to the
pleasant walks around it, and especially to the shady and
flower-bordered avenues of the alameda. Thither repaired the proud and
graceful beauties of Castile and Navarre, their raven locks but
partially veiled by the fascinating mantilla, their dark and lustrous
eyes flashing coquettish glances upon the gay officers who accompanied
or hovered around them. Every variety of uniform was there to be seen;
all was blaze, and glitter, and brilliancy; the smart trappings of
these fresh troops had not yet been tattered and tarnished amidst the
hardships of mountain warfare. The showy hussar, the elegant lancer,
the helmeted dragoon, aides-de-camp with their cocked-hats and blue
sashes, crossed and mingled in the crowd that filled the alameda, at
either end of which a band of music was playing the beautiful and
spirit-stirring national airs of Spain. On the one hand arose the
dingy masses of the houses of Logrono, speckled with the lights that
issued from their open casements, their outline distinctly defined
against the rapidly darkening sky; on the other side was a wide
extent of corn-field, intersected and varied by rows and clusters of
trees, amongst the branches of which, and over the waving surface of
the corn, innumerable fire-flies darted and sparkled. Here, a group of
soldiers and country girls danced a bolero to the music of a guitar
and tambourine; there, another party was collected round an Andalusian
ballad-singer, of whose patriotic ditties "_la Libertad_" and "_la
inocente Isabel_" were the usual themes. In a third place, a few
inveterate gamblers--as what Spanish soldiers are not?--had stretched
themselves upon the grass in a circle, and by the flickering light of
a broken lantern, or of a candle stuck in the earth, were playing a
game at cards for their day's pay, or for any thing else they might
chance to possess. On all sides, ragged, bare-footed boys ran about,
carrying pieces of lighted rope in their hands, the end of which they
occasionally dashed against the ground, causing a shower of sparks to
fly out, whilst they recommended themselves to the custom of the
cigar-smokers by loud cries of "_Fuego! Buen fuego! Quien quiere
fuego?_"
At few of the young officers, who, on the evening referred to, paraded
the alameda of Logrono, was the artillery of eyes and fan more
frequently levelled by the love-breathing beauties there assembled,
than at Luis Herrera, who, in the uniform of the cavalry regiment to
which he now belonged, was present upon the paseo. But for him fans
waved and bright eyes sparkled in vain. He was deeply engaged in
conversation with Mariano Torres, who, having recently obtained a
commission in the same corps with his friend, had arrived that evening
to join it. The two young men had parted soon after the death of Don
Manuel Herrera, and had not met since. One of Mariano's first
questions concerned the Villabuenas.
"The count went to France some months ago, I believe," replied Luis,
dryly.
"Yes," said Torres, "so I heard, and took his daughter with him. But I
thought it probable that he might have returned in the train of his
self-styled sovereign. He is capable of any folly, I should imagine,
since he was mad enough to sacrifice his fine fortune and position in
the country by joining in this absurd rebellion. You of course know
that he has been declared a traitor, and that his estates have been
confiscated?"
Luis nodded assent.
"Well, in some respects the count's losses may prove a gain to you,"
continued Torres, pursuing the train of his own thoughts, and not
observing that the subject he had started was a painful one to his
friend. "When we have put an end to the war, in a month or two at
furthest, you can go to France, and obtain his consent to your
marriage with his daughter. In the present state of his fortunes he
will hardly refuse it; and you may then return to Spain, and make
interest for your father-in-law's pardon."
"I am by no means certain," said Herrera, "that the war will be over
so soon as you imagine. But you will oblige me, Mariano, by not
speaking of this again. My engagement with Rita is long at an end, and
not likely ever to be renewed. It was a dream, a vision of happiness
not destined to be realized, and I endeavour to forget it. I myself
put an end to it; and not under present circumstances, perhaps under
none, should I think myself justified in seeking its renewal. Let us
talk of something else--of the future if you will, but not of the
past."
The hours passed by Luis beside Don Manuel's death-bed, had witnessed
a violent revolution in his feelings and character. Devotedly attached
to his father, who had been the sole friend, almost the only
companion, of his boyhood, the fiercer passions of Herrera's nature
were awakened into sudden and violent action by his untimely fate. A
burning desire of revenge on the unscrupulous faction to which the
persecution, exile, and cruel death of Don Manuel were to be
attributed, took possession of him; and in order to gratify this
desire, and at the same time to fulfil the solemn pledge he had given
to his dying parent, he felt himself at the moment capable of
sacrificing even his love for Rita. No sooner was the mournful
ceremony of the interment over, than he wrote to Villabuena, informing
him, in a few stern words, how those who professed like him to be the
defenders of religion and legitimacy, had enacted the part of
assassins and incendiaries, and shed his father's blood upon his own
threshold. This communication he considered to be, without further
comment, a sufficient reply to the proposition made to him by the
count a few days previously. At the same time--and this was by far the
most difficult part of his self-imposed task--he addressed a letter to
Rita, releasing her from her engagement. He felt, he told her, that,
by so doing, he renounced all his fondest hopes; but were he to act
otherwise, and at once violate his oath, and forego his revenge, he
should despise himself, and deserve her contempt. He implored her to
forget their ill-fated attachment, for his own misery would be
endurable only when he knew that he had not compromised her happiness.
Scarcely had he dispatched these letters, written under a state of
excitement almost amounting to frenzy, when Herrera, in pursuance of a
previously formed plan, and as if to stifle the regrets which a forced
and painful determination occasioned him, hastened to join as a
volunteer the nearest Christino column. It was one commanded by
General Lorenzo, then operating against Santos Ladron and the
Navarrese Carlists. In several skirmishes Herrera signalized himself
by the intrepidity and fury with which he fought. Ladron was taken and
shot, and Lorenzo marched to form the advanced guard of a strong
division which, under the command of Sarsfield, was rapidly nearing
the scene of the insurrection. On the mere approach of the Christino
army, the battalions of Castilian Realistas, which formed, numerically
speaking, an important part of the forces then under arms for Don
Carlos, disbanded themselves and fled to their homes. Sarsfield
continued his movement northwards, took possession, after trifling
resistance, of Logrono, Vittoria, Bilboa, and other towns occupied by
the Carlists; and, after a few insignificant skirmishes, succeeded in
dispersing and disarming the whole of the insurgents in the three
Basque provinces. A handful of badly armed and undisciplined Navarrese
peasants were all that now kept the field for Charles V., and of the
rapid capture or destruction of these, the sanguine Christinos
entertained no doubt. The principal strength of the Carlists was
broken; their arms were taken away; the majority of the officers who
had joined, and of the men of note and influence in the country who
had declared for them, had been compelled to cross the Pyrenees. But
the tenacious courage and hardihood of the Navarrese insurgents, and
the military skill of the man who commanded them, baffled the
unceasing pursuit kept up by the Queen's generals. During the whole of
the winter the Carlists lived like wolves in the mountains, surrounded
by ice and snow, cheerfully supporting the most incredible hardships
and privations. Nay, even under such disadvantageous circumstances,
their numbers increased, and their discipline improved; and when the
spring came they presented the appearance, not of a band of robbers,
as their opponents had hitherto designated them, but of a body of
regular troops, hardy and well organized, devoted to their general,
and enthusiastic for the cause they defended. Their rapid movements,
their bravery and success in several well-contested skirmishes, some
of which almost deserved the name of regular actions, the surprise of
various Christino posts and convoys, the consistency, in short, which
the war was taking, began seriously to alarm the Queen's government;
and the formidable preparations made by the latter for a campaign
against the Carlists, were a tacit acknowledgment that Spain was in a
state of civil war.
In the wild and beautiful valley of the Lower Amezcoa, in the
_merindad_ or district of Estella, a large body of Christino troops
was assembled on the fifteenth day after Rodil's entrance into
Navarre. The numerous forces which that general found under his
command, after uniting the troops he had brought with him with those
already in the province, had enabled him to adopt a system of
occupation, the most effectual, it was believed, for putting an end to
the war. In pursuance of this plan, he established military lines of
communication between the different towns of Navarre and Alava,
garrisoned and fortified the principal villages, and having in this
manner disseminated a considerable portion of his army through the
insurgent districts, he commenced, with a column of ten thousand men
that remained at his disposal, a movement through the mountainous
regions, to which, upon his approach, the Carlists had retired. His
object was the double one of attacking and destroying their army, and,
if possible, of seizing the person of Don Carlos, who but a few days
previously had arrived in Spain. The heat of the weather was
remarkable, even for that usually sultry season; the troops had had a
long and fatiguing march over the rugged sierra of Urbasa; and Rodil,
either with a view of giving them rest, or with some intention of
garrisoning the villages scattered about the valley, which had
hitherto been one of the chief haunts of the Carlists, had come to a
halt in the Lower Amezcoa.
It was two in the afternoon, and, notwithstanding the presence of so
large a body of men, all was stillness and repose in the valley. The
troops had arrived that morning, and after taking up their cantonments
in the various villages and hamlets, had sought refuge from the
overpowering heat. In the houses, the shutters of which were carefully
closed to exclude the importunate sunbeams, in the barns and stables,
under the shadow cast by balconies or projecting eaves, and along the
banks of the stream which traverses the valley, and is noted in the
surrounding country for the crystal clearness and extreme coldness of
its waters, the soldiers were lying, their uniforms unbuttoned, the
stiff leathern stock thrown aside, enjoying the mid-day slumber, which
the temperature and their recent fatigue rendered doubly acceptable.
Here and there, at a short distance from the villages, and further
off, near the different roads and passes that give access to the
valley through or over the gigantic mountain-wall by which it is
encircled, the sun flashed upon the polished bayonets and
musket-barrels of the pickets. The men were lying beside their piled
arms, or had crept under some neighbouring bush to indulge in the
universal _siesta_; and even the sentries seemed almost to sleep as
they paced lazily up and down, or stood leaning upon their muskets,
keeping but a drowsy watch and careless look-out for an enemy whose
proximity was neither to be anticipated nor dreaded by a force so
superior to any which he could get together.
Such was the scene that presented itself to one who, having approached
the valley from the south, and ascended the mountains that bound it on
that side, now contemplated from their summit the inactivity of its
occupants. He was a man of the middle height, but appearing rather
shorter, from a slight stoop in the shoulders; his age was between
forty and fifty years, his aspect grave and thoughtful. His features
were regular, his eyes clear and penetrating, a strong dark mustache
covered his upper lip and joined his whisker, which was allowed to
extend but little below the ear. His dress consisted of a plain blue
frock, girt at the waist by a belt of black leather, to which a sabre
was suspended, and his head was covered with a _boina_, or flat cap,
of the description commonly worn in the neighbourhood of the Pyrenees,
woven in one piece of fine scarlet wool, and decorated with a _borla_,
or tassel of gold cord, spreading like a star over the crown of the
head. In his hand he held a telescope, which he rested on the top of a
fragment of rock, and through which he attentively noted what passed
in the valley below. The case of the field-glass was slung across his
body by a strap, and, upon inspection, a name would have been found
stamped upon its leathern surface. It was that of Tomas
Zumalacarregui.
A short distance in rear of the Carlist leader, and so posted as not
to be visible from the valley, stood a little group of officers, and
persons in civilian garb, and a few orderlies, one of whom held the
general's horse. Behind, a battalion of infantry was drawn up--fine,
muscular, active fellows, inured to every hardship, and as indifferent
to the scorching heat to which they were now exposed, as they had been
to the bitter cold in the mountains amongst which they had passed the
preceding winter. Their appearance was not very uniform in its
details; short jackets, loose trousers, and sandals, composed the
dress of most of them--one well adapted to long marches and active
movements--and they all wore caps similar to those of the officers,
but of a blue colour, and coarser material. A second battalion of
these hardy guerillas was advancing with light and elastic step up the
rugged and difficult path; and this was followed by two others, which,
as fast as they arrived, were formed up by their officers in the best
manner that the uneven nature of the ground would admit. Half a dozen
mules, laden with ammunition, brought up the rear. When the four
battalions, consisting together of nearly three thousand men, were
assembled on the summit of the mountain, the arms were piled, and the
soldiers allowed to sit down or repose themselves as they chose from
the fatigues of their long and wearisome ascent, and of a march that
had lasted from early dawn.
The mountain upon which these troops were now stationed was less
precipitous upon its inner side than most of those that surrounded the
valley. It shelved gradually downwards, broken here and there by
ravines, its partially wooded slopes forming a succession of terraces,
which extended right and left for a distance of more than a mile. At
the foot of these slopes, and immediately below the spot occupied by
the Carlists, a low hill ran off at right angles from the higher
range, projecting into the valley as a promontory does into the sea.
With the exception of the side furthest from the mountains, which
consisted of pasture land, the base and skirts of this hill were
covered with oak and chestnut, and upon the clearing on its summit
stood a shepherd's hut, whence was commanded a view of a considerable
extent of the face of the sierra, as well as of the entrance of a
neighbouring pass that led out of the valley in the direction of
Estella. At this hut a Christino picket was stationed, to which, when
the Carlist chief had completed his general survey of the valley, his
attention became more particularly directed. The outpost consisted of
about thirty men, little, brown-complexioned, monkey-faced creatures
from the southern provinces, who, sunk in fancied security and in the
indolence natural to them, were neglecting their duty to an extent
which might seriously have compromised the safety of the Christino
army, had it depended upon their vigilance. The majority of them were
lying asleep in and around the picket-house, which was situated on one
side of the platform, within fifty yards of the trees. Of the three
sentinels, one had seated himself on a stone, with his musket between
his knees, and, having unbuttoned the loose grey coat that hung like a
sack about his wizened carcass, was busily engaged in seeking, between
his shirt and his skin, for certain companions whom he had perhaps
picked up in his quarters of the previous night, and by whose presence
about his person he seemed to be but moderately gratified. One of the
other two sentries had wandered away from the post assigned to him,
and approached his remaining comrade, with the charitable view of
dividing with him a small quantity of tobacco, which the two were now
deliberately manufacturing into paper cigars, beguiling the time as
they did so by sundry guardroom jokes and witticisms.
An almost imperceptible smile of contempt curled the lip of
Zumalacarregui as he observed the unmilitary negligence apparent in
the advanced post of the Christinos. It was exchanged for a proud and
well-pleased glance when he turned round and saw his gallant Navarrese
awaiting in eager suspense a signal to advance upon the enemy, whom
they knew to be close at hand. Zumalacarregui walked towards the
nearest battalion, and on his approach the men darted from their
various sitting and reclining postures, and stood ready to seize their
muskets, and fall into their places. Their chief nodded his
approbation of their alacrity, but intimated to them, by a motion of
his hand, that the time for action was not yet come.
"_Paciencia, muchachos!_" said he. "Patience, you will not have long
to wait. Refresh yourselves, men, whilst the time is given you.
Captain Landa!" cried he, raising his voice.
The officer commanding the light company of the battalion stepped
forward, and, halting at a short distance from his general, stood
motionless, with his hand to his cap, awaiting orders.
"Come with me, Landa," said Zumalacarregui; and, taking the officer's
arm, he led him to the spot whence he had been observing the valley,
and pointed to the Christino picket.
"Take your company," said he, "and fetch me those sleepy fellows here;
without firing a shot if it be possible."
The officer returned to his men, and, forming them up with all speed,
marched them off at a rapid pace. When they had disappeared amongst
the rocks, Zumalacarregui turned to the chief of his staff.
"Colonel Gomez," said he, "take the third and fourth battalions, and
move them half a mile to our left, keeping them well out of sight. We
are not strong enough to attack in the plain, but we shall perhaps get
our friends to meet us in the mountain."
Gomez--a tall, portly man, of inexpressive countenance, and whose
accent, when he spoke, betrayed the Andalusian--proceeded to execute
the orders he had received, and Zumalacarregui once more resumed his
post of observation.
The carelessness of the Christino picket, and the practice which the
Carlists had already had in a warfare of stratagem and surprise,
enabled the company of light infantry to execute, with great facility,
the instructions they had received. The young ensign who commanded the
outpost was walking listlessly along the edge of the wood, cursing the
wearisome duty entrusted to him, and referring to his watch to see how
far still the hour of relief was off, when he was suddenly struck to
the ground by a blow from a musket-butt, and before he could attempt
to rise, the point of a bayonet was at his throat. At the same instant
three score long-legged Navarrese dashed from under cover of the wood,
bayoneted the sentinels, surrounded the picket-house, and made
prisoners of the picket. The surprise was complete; not a shot had
been fired, and all had passed with so little noise that it appeared
probable the _coup-de-main_ would only become known to the Christinos
when the time arrived for relieving the outposts.
A trifling oversight, however, on the part of the Carlists, caused
things to pass differently. A soldier belonging to the picket, and who
was sleeping amongst the long grass, just within the wood, had escaped
all notice. The noise of the scuffle awoke him; but on perceiving how
matters stood, he prudently remained in his hiding-place till the
Carlists, having collected the arms and ammunition of their prisoners,
began to reascend the mountain. At a distance of three hundred yards
he fired at them, and then scampered off in the contrary direction.
His bullet took no effect, and the retreating guerillas, seeing how
great a start he had, allowed him to escape unpursued. But the report
of his musket spread the alarm. The pickets right and left of the one
that had been surprised, saw the Carlists winding their way up the
mountain; the vedettes fired, and the drums beat to arms. The alarm
spread rapidly from one end of the valley to the other, and every part
of it was in an instant swarming with men. Dragoons saddled and
artillery harnessed; infantry formed up by battalions and brigades;
generals and aides-de-camp dashed about hurrying the movements of the
troops, and asking the whereabouts of the enemy. This information they
soon obtained. No sooner was the alarm given, than Zumalacarregui,
relying upon the tried courage of his soldiers, and on the advantage
of his position, which must render the enemy's cavalry useless, and
greatly diminish the effect of the artillery, put himself at the head
of his two battalions, and rapidly descended the mountain, dispatching
an officer after Gomez with orders for a similar movement on his part.
Before the Carlists reached the plain, the Christinos quartered in the
nearest village advanced to meet them, and a smart skirmish began.
Distributed along the clifts and terraces of the mountain, kneeling
amongst the bushes and sheltered behind the trees that grew at its
base, the Carlists kept up a steady fire, which was warmly replied to
by their antagonists. In the most exposed situations, the Carlist
officers of all ranks, from the ensign to the general, showed
themselves, encouraging their men, urging them to take good aim, and
not to fire till they could distinguish the faces of their enemies,
themselves sometimes taking up a dead man's musket and sending a few
well-directed shots amongst the Christinos. Here a man was seen
binding the sash, which forms part of the dress of every Navarrese
peasant, over a wound that was not of sufficient importance to send
him to the rear; in another place a guerilla replenished his scanty
stock of ammunition from the cartridge-belt of a fallen comrade, and
sprang forward, to meet perhaps, the next moment, a similar fate. On
the side of the Christinos there was less appearance of enthusiasm and
ardour for the fight; but their numbers were far superior, and each
moment increased, and some light guns and howitzers that had been
brought up began to scatter shot and shell amongst the Carlists,
although the manner in which the latter were sheltered amongst wood
and rock, prevented those missiles from doing them very material
injury. The fight was hottest around the hill on which the picket had
been stationed, now the most advanced point of the Carlist line. It
was held by a battalion, which, dispersed amongst the trees that
fringed its sides, opposed a fierce resistance to the assaults of the
Christinos. At last the latter, weary of the protracted skirmishing,
by which they lost many men, but were unable to obtain any material
advantage, sent forward two battalions of the royal guards to take the
hill at the point of the bayonet. With their bugles playing a lively
march, these troops, the finest infantry in the Spanish army, advanced
in admirable order, and without firing a shot, to perform the duty
assigned to them. On their approach the Carlists retreated from the
sides of the hill, and assembled in the wood on its summit, at the
foot of the higher mountains. One battalion of the guards ascended the
hill in line, and advanced along the open ground, whilst the other
marched round the skirt of the eminence to take the Carlists in flank.
The Navarrese reserved their fire till they saw the former battalion
within fifty yards of them, and then poured in a deadly volley. The
ranks of the Christinos were thinned, but they closed them again, and,
with levelled bayonets and quickened step, advanced to clear the wood,
little expecting that the newly-raised troops opposed to them would
venture to meet them at close quarters. The event, however, proved
that they had undervalued their antagonists. Emerging from their
shelter, the Carlists brought their bayonets to the charge, and, with
a ringing shout of "_Viva Carlos Quinto!_" rushed upon their foe. A
griding clash of steel and a shrill cry of agony bore witness to the
fury of the encounter. The loss on both sides was severe, but the
advantage remained with the Carlists. The guards, unprepared for so
obstinate a resistance, were borne back several paces, and thrown into
some confusion. But the victors had no time to follow up their
advantage, for the other Christino battalion had entered the wood, and
was advancing rapidly upon their flank. Hastily collecting their
wounded, the Carlists retired, still fighting, to the higher ground in
their rear. At the same moment Zumalacarregui, observing a body of
fresh troops making a movement upon his right, as if with the
intention of outflanking him, ordered the retreat to be sounded, and
the Carlist line retired slowly up the mountains. Some of Rodil's
battalions followed, and the skirmishing was kept up with more or less
spirit till an end was put to it by the arrival of night.
From the commencement of the fight, several squadrons of the Queen's
cavalry had remained drawn up near a village in which they had their
quarters, at about a mile from the left of the Carlists. A short
distance in front of the line, a number of officers had collected
together, and were observing the progress of the combat, in which the
impracticability of the ground for horsemen prevented them from taking
a share. There was considerable grumbling, especially amongst the
juniors, at the inactivity to which they found themselves condemned.
"If this is the kind of fighting we are always to have," said a young
cornet sulkily, "they might as well have left us in our garrisons. We
were a deuced deal more comfortable, and quite as useful, in our snug
quarters at Valladolid. The faction, it is well known, have no
cavalry, and you will not catch their infernal guerillas coming down
into the plain to be sabred at leisure."
"No," said another subaltern, "but they are forming cavalry, it is
said. Besides, we may catch their infantry napping some day, as they
did our picket just now."
"Pshaw!" replied the first speaker. "Before that time comes every
horse in the brigade will be lame or sore-backed, and we ourselves
shall be converted into infantry men. All respect for lance and
sabre--but curse me if I would not rather turn foot-soldier at once,
than have to crawl over these mountains as we have done for the last
fortnight, dragging our horses after us by the bridle. For six hours
yesterday did I flounder over ground that was never meant to be trod
by any but bears or izards, breaking my spurs and shins, whilst my
poor nag here was rubbing the skin off his legs against rocks and
tree-stumps. When I entered the cavalry I expected my horse would
carry me; but if this goes on, it is much more likely I shall have to
carry him."
"A nice set of fellows you are," said an old grey-mustached captain,
"to be grumbling before you have been a month in the field. Wait a
bit, my boys, till your own flesh and your horses' have been taken
down by hard marching and short commons, and until, if you mount a
hill, you are obliged to hold on by the mane, lest the saddle should
slip back over the lean ribs of your charger. The marches you have as
yet seen are but child's play to what you _will_ see before the
campaign is over."
"Then hang me if I don't join the footpads," returned the dissatisfied
cornet. "At any rate one would have a little fighting then--a chance
of a broken head or t'other epaulet; and that is better than carrying
a sabre one never has to draw. Why, the very mules cannot keep their
footing amongst these mountains. Ask our quartermaster, whom I saw
yesterday craning over the edge of a precipice, and watching two of
his beasts of burden which were going down hill a deal quicker than
they had come up--their legs in the air, and the sacks of corn upon
their backs hastening their descent to some ravine or other, where the
crows no doubt at the present moment are picking their bones. You
should have heard old Skinflint swear. I thought he would have thrown
the muleteer after the mules. And they call this a country for
cavalry!"
"I certainly fear," said Herrera, who had been listening to the
colloquy, "that as long as the war is confined to these provinces,
cavalry will not be very often wanted."
"And if they were not here, they would be wanted immediately," said a
field-officer, who was observing the skirmish through a telescope.
"Besides, you young gentlemen have less cause for discontent than any
body else. There may be no opportunity for brilliant charges, but
there is always work for a subaltern's party, in the way of cutting
off detachments, or some such _coup-de-main_. I see a group of fellows
yonder who will get themselves into trouble if they do not take care."
All eyes and glasses turned towards the direction in which the major
was looking. It was the hottest moment of the fight; by their
impetuosity and courage the Carlists were keeping at bay the superior
numbers of their antagonists; and on their extreme left, a small party
of horsemen, consisting of four or five officers and a dozen lancers,
had ventured to advance a short distance into the plain. They had
halted at the edge of a _manzanal_, or cider orchard; and although
some way in advance of their own line, they were at a considerable
distance from any Christino troops; whilst a tolerably good path,
which led up the least precipitous part of the mountains in their
rear, seemed to ensure them an easy retreat whenever it might become
necessary. So confident were they of their safety, that the officers
had dismounted, and were observing the Christino reserves, and the
various bodies of infantry which were advancing from the more distant
cantonments. At this moment the officer commanding the cavalry rode up
to the spot where Herrera and his comrades were assembled.
"Major Gonzalez," said he, "send half a troop to cut off those
gentlemen who are reconnoitring. Let the party file off to the rear,
or their intention will be perceived."
The subalterns belonging to the squadron under command of Gonzalez,
pressed round him, eager to be chosen for the duty that was to vary
the monotony and inaction of which they had so recently been
complaining.
"Herrera," said the major, "you have most practice in this sort of
thing. Take thirty men and march them back into the village, out on
the other side, and round that rising ground upon our right. There is
plenty of cover, and if you make the most of it, the game cannot
escape. And, a hint to you--your fellows generally grind their sabres
pretty sharp, I know, and you are not fond of encumbering yourself
with prisoners; but yonder party, judging from their appearance, may
be men of note amongst the rebels, worth more alive than dead. Bring
them in with whole skins if you can. As to the fellows with the red
and white lance-flags, I leave them entirely at your discretion."
"I shall observe your orders, major," replied Herrera, whose eyes
sparkled at the prospect of a brush with the enemy. "Sergeant
Velasquez, tell off thirty men from the left of the troop."
The non-commissioned officer, who was introduced to the reader at the
commencement of this narrative, and who now found himself, in
consequence of a change of regiment, in the same squadron as Herrera,
obeyed the order he had received, and the party marched leisurely into
the village. No sooner, however, had they entered the narrow street,
and were concealed from the view of those whom they intended to
surprise, than their pace was altered to a brisk trot, which became a
hand-gallop when they got into the fields beyond the rising ground
referred to by the major. They then struck into a hollow road,
sheltered by bush-crowned banks, and finally reached the long narrow
strip of apple-orchard, at the further angle of which the group of
Carlists was posted. Skirting the plantation on the reverse side to
the enemy, they arrived at its extremity, and wheeling to the left,
cantered on in line, their sabre scabbards hooked up to their belts to
diminish the clatter, the noise of their horses' feet inaudible upon
the grass and fern over which they rode. "Charge!" shouted Herrera, as
they reached the second angle of the orchard; and with a loud hurra
and brandished sabres, the dragoons dashed down upon the little party
of Carlists, now within a hundred paces of them. The dismounted
officers hurried to their horses, and the lancers hastily faced about
to resist the charge; but before they could complete the movement,
they were sabred and ridden over. Herrera, mindful of the orders he
had received, hurried to protect the officers from a similar fate. One
of the latter, who had his back turned to Herrera, and who, although
he wore a sword by his side, was dressed in plain clothes, was in the
very act of getting into the saddle, when a dragoon aimed a furious
cut at his head. Herrera was in time to parry the blow, and as he did
so, the person whose life he had saved, turned round and disclosed the
well-known features of the Conde de Villabuena.
"Senor Conde!" exclaimed the astonished Luis, "I am grieved"----
"It is unnecessary, sir," said the count, coldly. "You are obeying
orders, I presume, and doing what you consider your duty. Am I to be
shot here, or taken to your chief?"
"It is much against my will," answered Herrera, "that I constrain you
in any way. I am compelled to conduct you to General Rodil."
The count made no reply, but, turning his horse's head in the
direction of the Christino camp, rode moodily onwards, followed,
rather then accompanied, by his captor. A Carlist officer and three
members of the rebel junta were the other prisoners. The lancers had
all been cut to pieces.
The position in which Herrera now found himself was in the highest
degree embarrassing and painful. Old affection and friendship were
revived by the sight of the count; and, had he obeyed his first
impulse, he would frankly have expressed his sorrow at the chance
which had thrown Villabuena into the hands of his foes, and have said
what he could to console him under his misfortune. But the count's
manner was so haughty and repulsive, and he so studiously avoided
recognising in Luis any thing more than an opponent and a captor, that
the words of kindness froze upon the young man's tongue, and during
the few minutes that were required to rejoin the regiment, the silence
remained unbroken. On reaching the spot where the cavalry was still
halted, the detachment was received with loud congratulations on the
successful issue of the expedition.
"Cleverly managed, Senor Herrera!" said the colonel; "and the
prisoners are of importance. Take them yourself to the general."
In obedience to this order, Herrera moved off to the part of the field
in which Rodil, surrounded by a numerous and brilliant staff, had
taken his post.
"Ha!" said the general, when the young officer had made his report,
his quick eye glancing at the prisoners, some of whom were known to
him by sight. "Ha! you have done well, sir, and your conduct shall be
favourably reported at Madrid. The Marquis of Torralva and Count
Villabuena--an important capture this. Your name, sir--and yours, and
yours?" said he sharply to the other prisoners.
The answers visibly increased his satisfaction. They were all men well
known as zealous and influential partizans of the Pretender. Rodil
paused an instant, and then turned to one of his aides-de-camp.
"A priest and a firing party," said he. "You have half an hour to
prepare for death," he added, addressing the prisoners. "Rebels taken
with arms in their hands can expect no greater favour."
Herrera felt a cold chill come over him as he heard this order given
for the instant execution of a man whom he had so long regarded as his
friend and benefactor. Forgetting, in the agitation of the moment, his
own subordinate position, and the impropriety of his interference, he
was about to address the general, and petition for the life of
Villabuena, when he was saved from the commission of a breach of
discipline by the interposition of a third party. A young man in the
uniform of a general officer, of sallow complexion and handsome
countenance, who was stationed upon Rodil's right hand, moved his
horse nearer to that of the general, and spoke a few words to him in a
low tone of voice. Rodil seemed to listen with attention, and to
reflect a moment before replying.
"You are right, Cordova," said he; "they may be worth keeping as
hostages; and I will delay their death till I can communicate with her
Majesty's government. Let them be strictly guarded, and sent to-morrow
to Pampeluna under good escort. Your name, sir?" said he, turning to
Herrera.
Herrera told his name and regiment.
"Luis Herrera," repeated Rodil; "I have heard it before, as that of a
brave and promising officer. Well, sir, since you have taken these
prisoners, you shall keep them. Yourself and a detachment of your
squadron will form part of their escort to Pampeluna."
The flattering words of his general went but a short way towards
reconciling Luis to the unpleasant task of escorting his former friend
to a captivity which would in all probability find its termination in
a violent death. With a heavy heart he saw Villabuena and the other
prisoners led off to the house that was to serve as their place of
confinement for the night; and still more painful were his feelings,
when he thought of Rita's grief on receiving intelligence of her
father's peril, perhaps of his execution. In order to alleviate to the
utmost of his power the present position of the count, he recommended
him to the care of the officer placed on guard over him, who promised
to allow his prisoner every indulgence consistent with his safe
keeping. And although the escort duty assigned to him was in some
respects so unpleasant to fulfil, Herrera became almost reconciled to
it by the reflection, that he might be able to spare Villabuena much
of the hardship and rough treatment to which his captivity exposed
him.
The first grey light of morning had scarcely appeared in the Lower
Amezcoa, stealing over the mountain-tops, and indistinctly shadowing
forth the objects in the plain, when the stillness that had reigned in
the valley since the conclusion of the preceding day's skirmish, was
broken by the loud and joyous clang of the reveille. At various points
of the Christino cantonments, the brazen instruments of the cavalry,
and the more numerous, but perhaps less martially sounding, bands of
the infantry regiments, were rousing the drowsy soldiers from their
slumbers, and awakening the surrounding echoes by the wild melody of
Riego's hymn. Gradually the sky grew brighter, the last lingering
stars disappeared, the summits of the western mountains were
illuminated with a golden flush, and the banks and billows of white
mist that rested on the meadows, and hung upon the hillsides, began to
melt away and disappear at the approach of the sun's rays. In the
fields and on the roads near the different villages, the troops were
seen assembling, the men silent and heavy-eyed, but refreshed and
invigorated by the night's repose, the horses champing their bits, and
neighing with impatience. Trains of mules, laden with sacks of corn
and rations, that from their weight might be deemed sufficient load
for as many dromedaries, issued from barn and stable, expending their
superfluous strength and spirit by kicking and biting viciously at
each other, and were ranged in rear of the troops, where also carts
and litters, containing wounded men, awaited the order for departure.
The sergeant-majors called the roll of their troops and companies;
whilst the men, leaning upon their muskets, or sitting at ease in
their saddles, munched fragments of the brown ration bread, smoked the
cigarette, or received from the hands of the tawny-visaged sutlers and
_cantinieras_, who walked up and down the ranks, an antidote to the
effects of the cool morning air, in the shape of a glass of
_aguardiente_. When all preparations were completed, and the time
necessary for the forming up of so numerous a body of men had elapsed,
the order to march was given, and the troops moved off in a southerly
direction.
Whilst this general movement took place, a detachment, consisting of
four companies of infantry, and fifty dragoons, separated itself from
the main body, and took the road to Pampeluna, whither it was to
escort Count Villabuena and his fellow captives. The country to the
north-east of the Amezcoa, through which they would have to pass, was
known to be free from Carlists, with the exception of unimportant
parties of armed peasants; Rodil himself had gone in pursuit of
Zumalacarregui, who had retired in the same direction whence he had
approached the valley; and therefore this escort, although so few in
number, was deemed amply sufficient to convey the prisoners in all
safety to their destination, to which one long day's march would bring
them. The detachment was commanded by a major of infantry--a young man
who had acquired what military experience he possessed in the ease and
sloth of a garrison life, during which, however, thanks to certain
influential recommendations, he had found promotion come so quickly
that he had not the same reason with many of his comrades to be
satisfied with the more active and dangerous service to which he had
recently been called. Inwardly congratulating himself on the change
which his present duty ensured him from the hardships of bivouacs and
bad quarters to at least a day or two's enjoyment of the fleshpots of
Pampeluna, he rode gaily along at the head of the escort, chatting and
laughing with his second in command. Behind him came Herrera and his
dragoons, and in rear of them the prisoners, on either side of whom
marched foot-soldiers with fixed bayonets. The body of infantry
brought up the rear. Strict orders had been given against conversing
with the captives; and Herrera was compelled, therefore, to abandon
the intention he had formed of endeavouring to break down the barrier
of cold reserve within which Count Villabuena had fenced himself, and
of offering such assistance and comfort as it was in his power to
give. He was forced to be contented with keeping near the prisoners,
in order to protect them from any abuse or ill-treatment on the part
of the soldiery.
For some hours the march continued without incident or novelty to vary
its monotony. There was no high-road in the direction the escort was
taking; the way, which was shown them by a peasant, led through
country lanes, over hills, and across fields, as nearly in a straight
line as the rugged and mountainous nature of the country would allow.
Towards noon, the heat, endurable enough during the first hours of the
morning, became excessive. The musket barrels and sabre scabbards
almost burned the fingers that touched them; the coats of the horses
were caked with sweat and dust; and the men went panting along,
looking out eagerly, but in vain, for some roadside fountain or
streamlet, at which to quench the thirst that parched their mouths.
They had reached a beaten road, which, although rough and neglected,
yet afforded a better footing than they had hitherto had, when such
means of refreshment at last presented themselves. It was near the
entrance of a sort of defile formed by two irregular lines of low
hills, closing in the road, which was fringed with patches of trees
and brushwood, and with huge masses of rock that seemed to have been
placed there by the hands of the Titans, or to have rolled thither
during some mighty convulsion of nature from the distant ranges of
mountains. At a short distance from this pass, there bubbled forth
from under a moss-grown block of granite a clear and sparkling
rivulet, which, overflowing the margin of the basin it had formed for
itself, rippled across the road, and entered the opposite fields. Here
a five minutes' halt was called, the men were allowed to quit their
ranks, and in an instant they were kneeling by scores along the side
of the little stream, collecting the water in canteens and
foraging-caps, and washing their hands and faces in the pure element.
The much-needed refreshment taken, the march was resumed.
Notwithstanding that the pass through which the prisoners and their
escort were now advancing was nearly a mile in length, and in many
places admirably adapted for a surprise, the officer in command,
either through ignorance or over-confidence, neglected the usual
precaution of sending scouts along the hills that on either side
commanded the road. This negligence struck Herrera, who knew by
experience, that, with such active and wily foes as the Carlists, no
precaution could be dispensed with, however superfluous it might seem.
Scarcely had the troops entered the defile when he suggested to the
major the propriety of sending out skirmishers to beat the thickets
and guard against an ambuscade.
"Quite unnecessary, sir," was the reply. "There is no rebel force in
this part of the country that would venture to come within a league of
us."
"So we are told," said Herrera; "but I have had occasion to see that
one must not always rely on such assurances."
"I shall do so, nevertheless, in this instance," said the major. "We
have a long march before us, and if I fag the men by sending them
clambering over hills and rocks, I shall lose half of them by
straggling, and perhaps not reach Pampeluna to-night."
"If you will allow me," said Herrera, "I will send a few of my
dragoons to do the duty. They will hardly be so effective as infantry
for such a service, but it will be better than leaving our flanks
entirely unguarded."
"I have already told you, sir," replied the major testily, "that I
consider such precaution overstrained and unnecessary. I believe,
Lieutenant Herrera, that it is I who command this detachment."
Thus rebuked, Herrera desisted from his remonstrances, and fell back
into his place. The march continued in all security through the wild
and dangerous defile; the men, refreshed by their momentary halt,
tramping briskly along, chattering, smoking, and singing snatches of
soldier's songs. It appeared as if the negligence of the major was
likely to be justified, as far as it could be, by the result; for they
were now within two hundred yards of the extremity of the pass, and in
view of the open country. The defile was each moment widening, and
the space between the road and the hills was filled up with a wood of
young beech and oak. Herrera himself, who had each moment been
expecting to receive a volley from some ambushed foe, was beginning to
think the danger over, when a man dressed in red uniform, with a
scarlet cap upon his head, and mounted on a white horse, suddenly
appeared at the end of the pass, and tossing his lance, which he
carried at the trail, into his bridle hand, put a trumpet that was
slung round his neck, to his mouth, and blew a loud and startling
blast. The signal, for such it was, did not long remain unanswered. A
hoarse wild shout issued from the wood on either side of the road, and
a volley of musketry resounded through the pass. In an instant the
hills were alive with Carlist soldiers, some reloading the muskets
they had just fired, others taking aim at the Christinos, or fixing
their bayonets in preparation for a closer encounter. Another minute
had scarcely elapsed, when a strong squadron of cavalry, which the
trumpeter had preceded, dashed out of the fields at the extremity of
the pass, formed column upon the road, and levelling their long light
lances, advanced, led on by Zumalacarregui himself, to charge the
astonished Christinos.
Extreme was the confusion into which the escort was thrown by this
attack, so totally unexpected by every body but Herrera. All was
bewilderment and terror; the men stood staring at each other, or at
their dead and wounded comrades, without even thinking of defending
themselves. This state of stupefaction lasted, however, but a second;
and then the soldiers, without waiting for orders, turned back to
back, and facing the points where the Carlists had stationed
themselves, returned their fire with all the vigour and promptness
which desperation could give. The major--a really brave man, but quite
unequal to an emergency of this nature--knew not what orders to give,
or how to extricate himself and his men from the scrape into which his
own headstrong imprudence had brought them. Foreseeing no possibility
of escape from an enemy who, in numbers and advantage of position, so
far overmatched him, his next thought regarded the prisoners, and he
galloped hastily back to where they stood. The Carlists had probably
received orders concerning them; for neither they nor their immediate
escort had suffered injury from the volley that had played such havoc
with the main body of the detachment.
"Fire on the prisoners!" shouted the major.
The guard round Villabuena and his fellow-captives stared at their
officer without obeying. Some of them were reloading, and the others
apparently did not comprehend the strange order.
"Fire, I say!" repeated the commandant. "By the holy cross! if we are
to leave our bones here, theirs shall whiten beside them."
More than one musket was already turned in the direction of the doomed
captives, when Herrera, who, at the moment that he was about to lead
his dragoons to the encounter of the Carlist cavalry, just then
appearing on the road, had overheard the furious exclamation of his
superior, came galloping back to the rescue.
"Stop!" shouted he, striking up the muzzles of the muskets. "You have
no warrant for such cruelty."
"Traitor!" screamed the major, almost breathless with rage, and
raising his sword to make a cut at Herrera. Before, however, he could
give force to the blow, his eyes rolled frightfully, his feet left the
stirrups, and, dropping his weapon, he fell headlong into the dust. A
Carlist bullet had pierced his heart.
"Fire at your foes, and not at defenceless prisoners," said Herrera
sternly to the dismayed soldiers. "Remember that your lives shall
answer for those of these men."
And again placing himself at the head of the cavalry, he led them to
meet Zumalacarregui and his lancers, who were already charging down
upon them.
But the few seconds that had been occupied in saving Villabuena and
his companions from the slaughter, had made all the difference in the
chances of success. Could Herrera have charged, as he had been about
to do, before the Carlists formed up and advanced, he might, in all
probability, owing to the greater skill of his men in the use of
their weapons, and to the superiority of their horses, have broken and
sabred his opponents, and opened the road for the Christino infantry.
Once in the plain, where the dragoons could act with advantage, the
Carlists might have been kept at bay, and a retreat effected. Now,
however, the state of affairs was very different. The lancers, with
Zumalacarregui and several of his staff charging at their head like
mere subalterns, came thundering along the road, and before Herrera
could get his dragoons into full career, the shock took place. In an
instant the way was blocked up with a confused mass of men and horses.
The rear files of the contending cavalry, unable immediately to check
their speed, pushed forward those in front, or forced them off the
road upon the strip of broken ground and brushwood on either side;
friends and foes were mingled together, cutting, thrusting, swearing,
and shouting. But the dragoons, besides encountering the lances of the
hostile cavalry, suffered terribly from the fire of the foot-soldiers,
who came down to the side of the road, blazing at them from within a
few paces, and even thrusting them off their horses with the bayonet.
In so confused a struggle, and against such odds, the superior
discipline and skill of the Christinos was of small avail. Herrera,
who, at the first moment of the encounter, had crossed swords with
Zumalacarregui himself, but who the next instant had been separated
from him by the melee, fought like a lion, till his right arm was
disabled by a lance-thrust. The soldier who had wounded him was about
to repeat the blow, when a Carlist officer interfered to save him. He
was made prisoner, and his men, discouraged by his loss, and reduced
already to little more than a third of their original numbers, threw
down their arms and asked for quarter. Their example was immediately
followed by those of the infantry who had escaped alive from the
murderous volleys of their opponents.
Of all those who took part in this bloody conflict, not one bore
himself more gallantly, or did more execution amongst the enemy, than
our old acquaintance, Sergeant Velasquez. When the charge had taken
place, and the desperate fight above described commenced, he backed
his horse off the narrow road upon which the combatants were cooped
up, into a sort of nook formed by a bank and some trees. In this
advantageous position, his rear and flanks protected, he kept off all
who attacked him, replying with laugh and jeer to the furious oaths
and imprecations of his baffled antagonists. His fierce and determined
aspect, and still more the long and powerful sweep of his broad sabre,
struck terror into his assailants, who found their best aimed blows
and most furious assaults repelled, and returned with fatal effect by
the practised arm of the dragoon. At the moment that Herrera was
wounded, and the fight brought to a close, the mass of combatants had
pressed further forward into the defile, and only three or four of the
rearmost of the Carlists occupied the portion of the pass between
Velasquez and the open country. Just then a shout in his rear, and a
bullet that pierced his shako, warned the sergeant that the infantry
were upon him; and at the same moment he saw his comrades desist from
their defence. Setting spurs to his charger, he made the animal bound
forward upon the road, clove the shoulder of the nearest lancer, rode
over another, and passing unhurt through the rain of bullets that
whistled around him, galloped out of the defile.
But, although unwounded, Velasquez was not unpursued. A dozen lancers
spurred their horses after him; and although more than half of these,
seeing that they had no chance of overtaking the well-mounted
fugitive, soon pulled up and retraced their steps, three or four still
persevered in the chase. Fortunate was it for the sergeant that the
good horse which he had lost at the venta near Tudela, had been
replaced by one of equal speed and mettle. With unabated swiftness he
scoured along the road through the whirlwind of dust raised by his
charger's feet, until the Carlists, seeing the distance between them
and the object of their pursuit rapidly increasing, gradually
abandoned the race. One man alone continued stanch, and seemed not
unlikely to overtake the dragoon. This was no other than the
sergeant's former opponent in the ball-court, Paco the muleteer, now
converted into a Carlist lancer, and who, his sharp-rowelled spurs
goring his horse's sides, his lance in his hand, his body bent forward
as though he would fain have outstripped in his eagerness the speed of
the animal he bestrode, dashed onward with headlong and reckless
violence. His lean and raw-boned but swift and vigorous horse,
scarcely felt the light weight of its rider; whilst Velasquez'
charger, in addition to the solid bulk of the dragoon, was encumbered
with a well-filled valise and heavy trappings. The distance between
pursued and pursuer was rapidly diminishing; and the sergeant, hearing
the clatter of hoofs each moment drawing nearer, looked over his
shoulder to see by how many of his enemies he was so obstinately
followed. Paco immediately recognised him, and with a shout of
exultation again drove the rowels into his horse's belly.
"_Halto! traidor! infame!_" yelled the ex-muleteer. "Stop, coward, and
meet your death like a man!"
His invitation was not long disregarded. Velasquez, having ascertained
that he had but a single pursuer, and that pursuer a man to whom he
owed a grudge and was by no means sorry to give a lesson, pulled up
his horse and confronted Paco, who, nothing daunted, came tearing
along, waving his lance above his head like a mad Cossack, and
shouting imprecations and defiance. As he came up, Velasquez, who had
steadily awaited his charge, parried the furious thrust that was aimed
at him, and at the same time, by a movement of leg and rein which he
had often practised in the _manege_, caused his horse to bound aside.
Unable immediately to check his steed, Paco passed onwards; but as he
did so, Velasquez dealt him a back-handed blow of his sabre, and the
unlucky Carlist fell bleeding and senseless from the saddle. His
horse, terrified at its rider's fall, galloped wildly across the
country.
"That makes the half-dozen," said the sergeant coolly, as he looked
down on his prostrate foe; "if every one of us had done as much, the
day's work would have been better."
And sheathing his sabre, he resumed, but at a more moderate pace, the
flight which had for a moment been interrupted.
WHITE'S THREE YEARS IN CONSTANTINOPLE.
The title of "_Domestic_ Manners of the Turks,"[28] given to the
volumes before us, can scarcely be considered as a correct
designation; since it is not in the privacy of their own families, in
their harems and among their children, (scenes in which it would
indeed be rash to challenge comparison with the eloquent author of the
_Spirit of the East_,) that Mr White has depicted the Turks of the
present day: but rather in the places "where men most do
congregate"--in the _bezestans_ and _tcharshys_ or markets, commonly
called bazars:[29] in the exercise of the various trades and callings,
and the intercourse of professional and commercial relations. The work
is rather a treatise on the corporate bodies and municipal
institutions of Constantinople--a subject hitherto almost untouched by
European writers, and in the investigation of which Mr White has
diligently availed himself of the opportunities afforded him by the
liberal spirit which the events of late years have fostered among the
Turks. The results of these researches are now laid before us, in a
form which, though perhaps not the most popular which might have been
adopted, is not ill calculated to embrace the vast variety of subjects
included in the range of the author's observations. Taking the
bezestans and markets--the focus of business and commerce to which the
various classes of the Stamboul population converge--as the
ground-work of his lucubrations, Mr White proceeds to enumerate in
detail the various trades and handicrafts carried on within the
precincts of these great national marts, the articles therein sold,
and the guilds or incorporated companies, to many of which extensive
privileges have been granted by the sultans for their services to the
state. These topics are diversified by numerous digressions on
politics, religion, criminal law, the imperial harem, the language of
flowers--in short, _de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis_--in the
course of which Mr White gives his readers the benefit of all the
miscellaneous information which has fallen in his way during his three
years' residence among the Osmanlis. Of a work so diffuse in its
nature, it is impossible to give more than an outline; and
accordingly, omitting all mention of those subjects which have been
rendered tolerably familiar to European readers by the narratives of
former travellers, we shall select from these "orient pearls," strung
most literally "at random," such topics as possess most novelty, or on
which Mr White has imparted some novel information.
The space of ground occupied by the two great bezestans--the jewel or
arms' bezestan, and the silk bezestan--with the surrounding
_tcharshys_, and other buildings appropriated to trade, forms an
irregular quadrangle of about three hundred and fifty square yards, to
the north of the Mosque of Sultan Bajazet, and west of that of
Noor-Osmanya. "The bezestans originally consisted of isolated
buildings, each with four gates opening nearly to the cardinal points,
which were, and still are, designated after the trades carried on in
booths around or beneath their respective porches. By degrees new
shops, alleys, and enclosures clustered around the original depots,
until the whole were enclosed within walls, arched, roofed, and
provided with lock-up gates and posterns, of which there are twelve
large and about twenty small. They were then subjected to the same
syndical laws that regulate the police and administration of the
parent buildings." They are opened soon after dawn, and closed at
afternoon prayer; and the same regulations are observed at the _Missr
Tcharshy_, or Egyptian drug-market, hereafter to be noticed. The
jewel bezestan alone shuts at mid-day--the former occupants having
been principally janissaries, who held it beneath their dignity to
keep their shops open all day; on Fridays they are closed; and, during
Ramazan, are open only from mid-day to afternoon prayer. The silk
bezestan, being tenanted only by Armenians, is closed on Sundays, and
the saints' days of their calendar, amounting to nearly a fourth of
the year. "With the exception of the two bezestans, the bazars are not
surmounted by domes, the distinctive ornament of almost all public
edifices; ... so that the whole surface, when seen from the Serasker's
Tower, presents a vast area of tiles, without any architectural
relief, and exhibits a monotonous vacuum in the midst of the
surrounding noble mosques and lofty khans."
The Jewel or Arms' Bezestan (Djevahir or Silah-Bezestany) is the
oldest of these establishments, dating from the time of the conquest
by Mahommed II.; but, having been repeatedly destroyed by fire, the
present edifice of stone was constructed in 1708. It is a lofty oblong
quadrangular building, with fifteen cupolas and four arched gates--the
booksellers', the goldsmiths', the mercers', and the beltmakers'. The
interior consists of a broad alley, intersected by four transverse
alleys with double rows of shops, where the dealers, who are all
Moslems, sit on platforms raised about three feet and a half from the
pavement. They constitute a guild among themselves, presided over by a
sheikh, with a deputy and six elders; and are so highly esteemed for
their probity, that valuable deposits are frequently left in their
charge by persons going on pilgrimage or to distant countries; but
this privilege has lately been interfered with by government, which
has claimed, in failure of heirs, the reversions which formerly fell
to the guild. "It would be an endless task to describe the articles
exposed to sale in Djevahir-Bezestany, which, from jewels being rarely
sold there at present, might be more appropriately called the bezestan
of antiquities." The principal objects of attraction, especially to
foreigners, are the arms, to which Mr White accordingly confines his
remarks: but the once famed Damascus sabres (called _Sham_ or Syrian)
are now held as inferior to those of Khorassan and Persia, (_Taban_ or
polished,) unless anterior to the destruction of the old manufactory
by Timour in 1400; and those of this ancient fabric are now of extreme
rarity and value. "A full-sized Khorassan, or ancient Damascus sabre,
should measure about thirty-five inches from guard to point; the back
should be free from flaws, the watering even and distinct throughout
the whole length: the colour a bluish grey. A perfect sabre should
possess what the Turks call the Kirk Merdevend, (forty gradations:)
that is, the blade should consist of forty compartments of watered
circles, diminishing in diameter as they reach the point. A tolerable
_taban_ of this kind, with plain scabbard and horn handle, is not
easily purchased for less than 2000 piastres; some fetch as much as
5000, and when recognised as extraordinary, there is no limit to the
price. Damascus sabres made prior to 1600 are seldom seen, but modern
blades of less pure temper and lighter colour are common. Their form
is nearly similar to the Khorassan; but the latter, when of
extraordinary temper, will cut through the former like a knife through
a bean-stalk." The shorter swords of bright steel called _pala_,
watered not in circles, but in waving lines, are mostly from the
manufactory established at Stamboul by Mahommed II. soon after the
conquest, and which maintained its celebrity up to the time of Mourad
IV., the last sultan who headed his armies in person:--"After his
death, the fashion of wearing Khorassan and old Syrian blades was
revived: and the Stamboul manufactory was gradually neglected."
It is needless to follow Mr White through his dissertations on
handjars, yataghans, and other Oriental varieties of cold steel; but
passing through the booksellers' (Sahhaf) gate of the bezestan, we
find ourselves in the Paternoster Row of Stamboul--a short space
exclusively inhabited by the trade from which the gate derives its
name. The booksellers' guild consists of about forty members, presided
over by a sheikh and a council of elders; and is conducted on
principles as rigidly exclusive as those of some corporations nearer
home, it being almost impossible for any one to purchase the good-will
of a shop, unless connected by blood with some of the fraternity: but
Mr White's account of "the trade," and of the bearded Murrays and
Colburns by whom it is carried on, is far from favourable. Competition
being excluded by this monopoly, the prices demanded are so
exorbitant, "that it is common to say of a close-fisted dealer, 'he is
worse than a sahhaf.' The booksellers' stalls are the meanest in
appearance in all the bazars; and the effendy, who lord it over the
literary treasures, are the least prepossessing, and by no means the
most obliging, of the crafts within this vast emporium." There are
some exceptions, however, to this sweeping censure. Suleiman Effendi,
father of the imperial historiographer, Sheikh-Zadeh Assad Effendi, is
celebrated as a philologist; and Hadji-Effendi, though blind, "appears
as expert in discovering the merits of a MS. or printed work as the
most eagle-eyed of his contemporaries, and is moreover full of
literary and scientific information." Catalogues are unknown, and the
price even of printed books, after they have passed out of the hands
of the editor, is perfectly arbitrary; but the commonest printed books
are double the relative rate in Europe. The value of MSS. of course
depends on their rarity and beauty of transcription; a finely
illuminated Koran cannot be procured for less than 5000 or 6000
piastres, and those written by celebrated caligraphers fetch from
25,000 to even 50,000. Mr White estimates the average number of
volumes on a stall at about 700, or less than 30,000 in the whole
bazar; but among these are frequently found works of great rarity in
the "three languages," (Arabic, Persian, and Turkish.) Of those most
in request, a catalogue is given, comprising the usual range of
Oriental literature.
There are about forty public libraries in Constantinople, but many of
these are within the principal mosques, and therefore not easily
accessible to Europeans. They are all endowed with ample funds for
their maintenance and the salaries of their librarians, who frequently
add considerably to their emoluments by transcribing MSS:--"but it
does not appear that these funds are employed in adding to these
collections; so that in point of numbers they remain nearly as when
first founded." Each library has not only a simple nomenclature, but a
_catalogue raisonnee_ containing a summary of each work; and the
books, most of which are transcribed on vellum or highly glazed paper,
are bound in the manner of a tuck pocket-book, in dark morocco or
calf, with the titles written on the outside of the margin, and are
laid on their sides on the shelves. The floors are covered with mats,
and on one or more sides are low divans for the use of the students,
who leave their slippers at the door; a narrow desk in front of the
divans supports the volumes in use. Neither fire, candle, nor smoking,
is permitted; and the libraries in general are open daily, except on
Friday, and during Ramazan and the two Beirams, from about 9 A.M. to
afternoon prayer; those present at the time of mid-day prayer, quit
their studies and perform their devotions in common.
Many of the most valuable and costly of the illuminated MSS. are in
the two libraries of the seraglio, the larger of which, containing at
present 4400 volumes, is the most extensive collection of books in
Constantinople: but they can scarcely be reckoned among the public
libraries, as admission to them is obtained with difficulty, and only
by special permission, even by Moslems. Besides the MSS. in the great
seraglio library, among the most valuable of which is a magnificent
copy of the Arabic poem of Antar, and another of the Gulistan, the
great moral poem of Saadi, there is a canvass genealogical tree,
containing portraits of all the sovereigns of the house of Osman, from
originals preserved in the sultan's private library. Next in
importance is the library of the mosque of Aya Sofia (St Sophia,)
founded by Mohammed the Conqueror, which is rich in valuable MSS. and
contains a Koran said to have been written by the hand of the Khalif
Ali, the son-in-law of the Prophet: another attributed to the same
source, as well as one ascribed to the Khalif Omar, are in the library
of Osman III., attached to the beautiful mosque of Noor-Osmanya. But
the most interesting of the public libraries, though the number of its
volumes does not exceed sixteen hundred, is that of the grand-vizir
Raghib Pasha, a celebrated patron of learning in the middle of the
last century. It stands in an enclosed court, which also contains a
free school, fountains, and the monuments of the founder and his
family. The library itself is a lofty square chamber, with a central
dome and four semi-domes, supported by marble columns, and round the
apartment "runs a complete and most correct version of the celebrated
Boorda of the poet Keab," (a poem composed in honour of Mohammed by an
Arab contemporary,) "in gold letters, fourteen inches long, on a green
ground, forming an original and brilliant embellishment." Its contents
include some of the richest and rarest specimens of Persian and Arabic
caligraphy; and the founder's note-book, with a copy of his divan,
(poetical works,) is also exhibited: "the former proves that he was
not unaccomplished as a draughtsman and architect.... There is a
lightness and elegance in this building which renders it superior to
all others: but he survived its foundation only three years. His
remains are deposited in the north-east angle of the court, on an
elevated terrace, beneath open marble canopy, protected by a wirework
trellis. This, with the roses and myrtles, and the figs, vines,
pomegranates, and cypresses, that cast their shade around, gives it
the appearance of a noble aviary, more than that of a repository for
the dead: and the doves that nestle in the overhanging branches, and
fill the air with their querulous notes, add to the delusion."
The total number of volumes in all the public libraries is believed
not to exceed 75,000, of which at least a fourth are duplicates; "it
must be remembered, however, that, with a few modern exceptions, the
whole are MSS. admirably transcribed, elaborately embellished: and
thus, taking one volume with another, the sums paid for each work far
exceed the average price of rare printed editions in Europe." Besides
these stores of Oriental lore, the library of the medical academy
established by Mahmood II. in the palace of Galata Serai, contains
several hundred volumes of the best French medical works, which the
professors are allowed to carry to their own apartments--a privilege
not allowed in any other library. The art of printing was first
introduced in 1726, by a Hungarian renegade named Ibrahim, (known as
_Basmadji_, or the printer,) who was patronised by the Sultan Achmet
III;--but the establishment languished after his death; and though
revived in 1784 by Sultan Abdoul Hamid, it was only after the
destruction of the janissaries, the enemies of every innovation, that
the press began to exhibit any thing like activity. At present there
are four imperial printing establishments; and the types, which were
formerly cast in Venice, being now manufactured in Stamboul, a marked
improvement has taken place in the character. Though the Koran, and
all religious and doctrinal works, are still transcribed exclusively
by hand, the art of printing is regarded with great jealousy by the
booksellers, who hold that "presses are made from the calcined wood of
Al-Zacum, the dread tree of the lowest pit; while transcribers have
their seats near the gate of the seventh heaven." The newspaper press
of Stamboul is still in its infancy--for though the _Takwim_, or
_Moniteur Ottoman_, established in 1831 by Mahmood II. as an official
gazette, was conducted with considerable ability by the original
editor, M. Blaque, and his successor M. Francesschi, the sudden death
of both these gentlemen, within a short period of each other, awakened
strong suspicions of foul play; and the French translation, published
for European circulation, has since sunk into a mere transcript of the
Turkish original, which consists of little but official announcements.
Several attempts made, by Mr Churchill and others, to establish a
non-official paper for the advocacy of Turkish interests, have been
smothered after a brief existence, by the jealousy of Russia and
France: "the result is, that the _Moniteur_ is a dull court-circular,
and the Smyrna journals, abandoned to chance communications, are
neither prompt nor exact in circulating or detailing events."[30]
The spread of literary cultivation among the Turks of the present day,
and the European education which many of the rising generation have
received, has naturally led to a taste for European literature; and
many possess libraries stored not only with the lore of the East, but
with the choicest treasures of the French and English classics. Ali
Effendi, late ambassador from the Porte to the court of St James's, is
well known to have collected a most extensive and valuable library
during his residence in the regions of the West; and Mr White
enumerates several young Osmanlis distinguished for their
accomplishments in the literature and science of the Franks. Emin
Pasha, the director of the Imperial Military Academy, and Bekir Pasha,
late superintendent of the small-arm manufactory at Dolma-Baktchi,
were both educated in England, the latter at Woolwich and the former
at Cambridge, where he gained a prize for his mathematical
attainments. Fouad Effendi, son of the celebrated poet Izzet-Mollah,
and himself a poet of no small note, "possesses a choice library of
some 2000 volumes, in French, English, and Italian;" and Derwish
Effendi, professor of natural history in the academy of Galata Serai,
"has studied in France and England, and is not less esteemed for his
knowledge than for his modesty." But foremost among this _Tugenbund_,
the future hopes of Turkey, stands one whose name has already appeared
in the pages of _Maga_, (Sept. 1841, p. 304,) Achmet Wekif Effendi,
now third dragoman to the Porte, and son of Rouh-ed-deen Effendi, late
Secretary of Legation at Vienna, whom Mr White pronounces, with
justice, "one of the most rising and enlightened young men of the
Turkish empire. His knowledge of the French language is perfect, and
he adds to this an intimate acquaintance with the literature of that
country and of England." While men like these (and we could add other
names to those enumerated by Mr White, from our personal knowledge)
are in training for the future administration of the empire, there is
yet hope of the regeneration of the Osmanli nation.
In no country is primary instruction more general than in Turkey. Each
of the smaller mosques has attached to it an elementary school,
superintended by the imam, where the children of the lower classes are
taught to read and write, and to repeat the Koran by heart; while
those intended for the liberal professions undergo a long and
laborious course of study at the medressehs or colleges of the great
mosques, some of which are intended to train youth in general
literature, or qualify them for government employments, while others
are devoted to the study of theology and jurisprudence. Mr White
states the number of students in Stamboul, in 1843, at not less than
5000, all of whom were lodged, instructed, and furnished with one meal
a-day, at the expense of the _wakoof_ or foundation, (a term which we
shall hereafter more fully explain,) all their other expenses being at
their own charge; but "the sallow complexions and exhausted appearance
of these young men indicate intense labour, or most limited commons."
After thus successfully vindicating the Turks from the charge so often
brought against them by travellers who have only spent a few weeks at
Pera, of ignorance and indifference to knowledge, Mr White thus sums
up the general question of education. "For ten men that _can_ read
among Perotes and Fanariotes, there are an equal number that _do_ read
at Constantinople; and, taking the mass of the better classes
indiscriminately, it will be found also that there are more libraries
of useful books in Turkish houses than in those of Greeks and
Armenians." And though "the number of Turkish ladies that can read is
much less than those of Pera and the Fanar, those who can read among
the former never open a bad book; while among the latter there is
scarcely one that ever reads a good work, unless it be the catechism
or breviary on certain forced occasions. And while neither Greek nor
Armenian women occupy themselves with literature, Constantinople can
boast of more than one female author. Among the most celebrated of
these is Laila Khanum, niece to the above-mentioned Izzet-Mollah. Her
poems are principally satirical, and she is held in great dread by her
sex, who tremble at her cutting pen. Her _divan_ (collection of poems)
has been printed, and amounts to three volumes. Laila Khanum is also
famed for her songs, which are set to music, and highly popular.
Hassena Khanum, wife of the Hakim Bashy, (chief physician,) is
likewise renowned for the purity and elegance of her style as a
letter-writer, which entitles her to the appellation of the Turkish
Sevigne."
But we must again diverge, in following Mr White's desultory steps,
from the Turkish fair ones--whom he has so satisfactorily cleared from
Lord Byron's imputation, that
"They cannot read, and so don't lisp in criticism;
Nor write, and so they don't affect the muse--"
to his dissertation on the _wakoofs_ above referred to;--a word
implying a deposit or mortgage, and used to designate a species of
tenure under which the greater part of the landed property throughout
the empire is held, and the nature of which is but imperfectly
understood in Europe. These institutions have existed from the
earliest period of Islam; but nowhere to so great an extent as in the
Ottoman empire; where they were divided by Soliman the Magnificent
into three classes, all alike held sacred, and exempt from
confiscation either by the sovereign or courts of law. The first class
comprises the lands or funds absolutely bequeathed to the mosques
either by founders or subsequent benefactors, the revenues of which
are employed in the payment of the imams, khatibs, and other ministers
of religion attached to their service, and to the gratuitous
maintenance of the colleges and hospitals dependent on them; and which
are in all cases amply sufficient for these purposes. "No demands in
the shape of tithes, collections, or entrance-money, are ever made:
the doors of all temples are open to the public without distinction:"
and although the imam usually receives a fee for marriages,
name-givings, circumcisions, and funerals, no demand can be legally
made. The author proceeds to enumerate the endowments in 1842, as
nearly as they could be ascertained, of the seventeen mosques in the
capital entitled to rank as imperial foundations--the richest being
that of Aya-Sofia, amounting to 1,500,000 piastres annually, while the
others vary from 710,000 to 100,000 piastres. The ecclesiastical staff
of an imperial mosque comprehends in general from thirty to forty
persons--the sheikh, who preaches after mid-day prayer on Friday, and
who is a member of the superior ecclesiastical synod, with rank and
privileges nearly similar to those of our bishops:--two or more
khatibs, who recite the khotbah, or prayer for the Prophet and
sultan:--four imams, who alternately read prayers:--twelve to twenty
muezzins, who call to prayers from the minarets:--with fifteen to
twenty subordinate functionaries. The finances of each of the mosques
are regulated by a _nazir_ (inspector) and _mutawelly_, (accountant,)
who are bound by law to render half-yearly statements; and these
offices, lucrative from the opportunities they afford for
malversation, are usually held for life by the holders for the time
being of high official stations, or sometimes by the heirs of the
founders, who thus secure their lands from forfeiture or confiscation;
or by persons to whom they have been bequeathed, with power to
nominate their successors. The annual revenues of the imperial mosques
being triple their expenditure, the wakoof fund has been often
encroached upon by the Sultan, nominally as a loan under the warrant
of the minister of finance, who checks the accounts of the imperial
nazir; and by these not unfrequent inroads, as well as by the
peculations of the superintendents, the accumulations, though great,
are not so enormous as they would otherwise become.
The second class comprises the funds devoted to the maintenance of
public baths, libraries, fountains, alms-houses, and of useful and
charitable institutions in general. They are frequently charged with
annuities to the representatives of the founder; and in all
foundations for gratuitous education, or distribution of alms or food,
founders' kin have the preference. They are all registered in the
treasury; but the foundation is invalidated if the property assigned
for its support be encumbered by mortgages or other obligations:--nor
can any one labouring under an incurable disease convert freehold
property into wakoof except as a testator, in which case the
inalienable rights of the heirs to two-thirds of the property are
secured:--a third part only, according to law, being otherwise
disposable by will. The third class of wakoofs (called _ady_ or
customary, the others being termed _shary_ or legal, as sanctioned by
religious law) are considered as secular foundations, consisting of
lands purchased by the religious wakoofs from their accumulations, on
reversion at the death of the assigner, or failure of his direct
heirs, for an inconsiderable portion of their value, leaving to the
vendors in the interim the full enjoyment of the property, which is
frequently continued to their nephews and brothers on the same terms.
"At first this plan was not considered lucrative for the wakoofs: but
when the system was widely extended, the multitude of assignments,
which fell in every year from death and default of issue, soon crowned
the speculation with success, in a country where the tenure of life is
eminently uncertain, not only from the caprices of sultans, but from
the constant ravages of plague.... The advantages to sellers were
equally great. They secured themselves from confiscation, and their
heirs from spoliation at their demise. They were enabled to raise
money to the value of a sixth or eighth of their capital, on payment
of a trifling interest, and yet retained the full enjoyment of the
whole for themselves and immediate issue. By founding these wakoofs,
sellers are also enabled to check the extravagance of their children,
who can neither mortgage nor alienate the property--a practice nearly
as common in Turkey as in other countries."
Not less than three-fourths of the buildings and cultivated lands
throughout the empire, according to the author, and even the imperial
domains, are held under one or other of these wakoof tenures, which
thus represent the great landed interests of the country. Formerly,
the domains belonging to the mosques in each pashalik were let on
annual leases (as the public revenues are still farmed) to _multezim_
or contractors, generally the pashas of the provinces: but the system
of subletting and dilapidation to which this course of short leases
gave rise, was so ruinous to the agricultural population and the
property of the wakoofs, that a thorough reform was introduced in the
reign of Abdoul-Hamid, the father of Mahmood II. The lands were now
let on life tenancies, (_malikania_,) on the same system of beneficial
leases and large fines on renewals which prevails with respect to the
property of collegiate and other corporate bodies in England; which
has greatly improved their condition, as it is no longer the interest
of the lessee to rack the peasantry, or damage the property, for the
sake of present advantage. "More than one monarch has entertained
projects of dispossessing the mosques of these privileges, and of
placing the wakoofya under the exclusive superintendence of
government. Sultan Mahmood II. seriously contemplated carrying this
plan into effect, and probably would have done so, had his life been
spared. The government in this case would have paid the salaries of
all sheikhs, priests, and persons attached to the sacred edifices,
together with all repairs and expenses of their dependent
institutions, and would have converted the surplus to state purposes.
Various plans were suggested to Mahmood's predecessors; but during the
existence of the janissaries, no one dared to interfere with
institutions whence the Oolema, (men of law and religion,) intimately
connected with the janissaries, derived invariable profit."
Returning at length from this long digression to the jewel bezestan,
and passing from the south-eastern, or mercers' gate, "through lines
of shops stored with a variety of ready-made articles required by
ladies," we reach the Silk Bezestan, (Sandal Bezestany,) which, like
the other, has four arched gates named after different trades, and is
surmounted by twenty domes, four in a line. Though occupied solely by
Armenians, and regulated by a committee of six Armenian elders, it is
directed by a Turkish kehaya or president, with his deputy, whose duty
it is to superintend the police and collect the government dues. The
scene presented by the interior presents a striking contrast to the
other, and (we regret to say) not at all to the advantage of the
Christians. "The building is gloomy and badly lighted, and appears not
to have been white-washed or cleansed since the first construction;
and while a stranger may repeatedly enter the jewel bezestan, and its
tenants, though they see him gazing with covetous eyes on some
antiquated object, will scarcely condescend to say 'Ne istersiniz?'
(what want you?) ... the clamours of the Armenians to attract
purchasers are only to be surpassed by their want of honesty.
Strangers may often pay too much to Turkish shopkeepers, but they will
receive fair weight to a hair: whereas they will be subject not only
to overcharge, but to short quantity, at the hands of the Armeninians
and their more profligate imitators, the Greek dealers." The original
silk manufactories were established before the conquest of
Constantinople at the old capital of Broussa, whence most of the raw
material is still derived, the abundance of mulberry trees in its
neighbourhood being favourable to the nurture of the silkworm; little
Broussa silk is, however, now sold in the sandal bezestany, the
manufacture being principally carried on along the shores of the
Bosphorus. "But within the last ten years, and especially since the
conclusion of commercial treaties with the Porte, the silk trade in
home-made articles has decreased 50 per cent. A large supply of common
imitation goods is now received from England, France, and Italy, and
the richer articles, principally manufactured at Lyons, have
completely superseded those formerly received from Broussa, or
fabricated at Scutari and Constantinople."
The trade in furs, as well as that in silk, is entirely in the hands
of the Armenians, but has greatly fallen off since the European dress,
now worn by the court and the official personages, replaced the old
Turkish costume. In former times, the quality of the fur worn by
different ranks, and at different seasons of the year, was a matter of
strict etiquette, regulated by the example of the sultan, who, on a
day previously fixed by the imperial astrologer, repaired in state to
the mosque arrayed in furs, varying from the squirrel or red fox,
assumed at the beginning of autumn, to the samoor or sable worn during
the depth of winter; while all ranks of persons in office changed
their furs, on the same day with the monarch, for those appropriated
to their respective grades. The most costly were those of the black
fox and sable, the former of which was restricted, unless by special
permission, to the use of royalty: while sable was reserved for vizirs
and pashas of the highest rank. The price of these furs, indeed,
placed them beyond the reach of ordinary purchasers, 15,000 or 20,000
piastres being no unusual price for a sable lined pelisse, while black
fox cost twice as much. In the present day the _kurk_ or pelisse is
never worn by civil or military functionaries, except in private: but
it still continues in general use among the sheikhs and men of the
law, "who may be seen mounted on fat ambling galloways, with richly
embroidered saddle-cloths and embossed bridles, attired in kurks faced
with sables, in all the pomp of ancient times." The kurk is, moreover,
in harem etiquette, the recognised symbol of matronly rank:--and its
assumption by a Circassian is a significant intimation to the other
inmates of the position she has assumed as the favourite of their
master. The same rule extends to the imperial palace, where the
elevation of a fair slave to the rank of _kadinn_ (the title given to
the partners of the sultan) is announced to her, by her receiving a
pelisse lined with sables from the _ket-khoda_ or mistress of the
palace, the principal of the seven great female officers to whom is
entrusted the management of all matters connected with the harem. The
imperial favourites are limited by law to seven, but this number is
seldom complete; the present sultan has hitherto raised only five to
this rank, one of whom died of consumption in 1842. These ladies are
now always Circassian slaves, and though never manumitted, have each
their separate establishments, suites of apartments, and female slaves
acting as ladies of honour, &c. Their slipper, or (as we should call
it) pin money, is about 25,000 piastres (L240) monthly--their other
expenses being defrayed by the sultan's treasurer. Mr White enters
into considerable detail on the interior arrangements of the seraglio,
the private life of the sultan, &c.; but as it does not appear from
what sources his information is derived, we shall maintain an Oriental
reserve on these subjects.
The slave-markets and condition of slaves in the East is treated at
considerable length: but as the erroneous notions formerly entertained
have been in a great measure dispelled by more correct views obtained
by modern travellers, it is sufficient to observe, that "the laws and
customs relative to the treatment of slaves in Turkey divest their
condition of its worst features, and place the slave nearly on a level
with the free servitor: nay, in many instances the condition of the
slave, especially of white slaves, is superior to the other; as the
path of honour and fortune is more accessible to the dependent and
protected slave than to the independent man of lower degree." It is
well known that many of those holding the highest dignities of the
state--Halil Pasha, brother-in-law of the Sultan--Khosref, who for
many years virtually ruled the empire, with numberless others, were
originally slaves: and in all cases the liberation of male slaves,
after seven or nine years' servitude, is ordained by _adet_ or custom,
which, in Turkey, is stronger than law. This rule is rarely
infringed:--and excepting the slaves of men in the middle ranks of
life, who frequently adopt their master's trade, and are employed by
him as workmen, they in most cases become domestic servants, or enter
the army, as holding out the greatest prospect of honour and
promotion. The condition of white female slaves is even more
favourable. In point of dress and equipment, they are on a par with
their mistresses, the menial offices in all great harems being
performed by negresses;--and frequent instances occur, where parents
prefer slaves educated in their own families to free women as wives
for their sons:--the only distinction being in the title of _kadinn_,
which may be considered equivalent to _madame_, and which is always
borne by these emancipated slaves, instead of _khanum_, (or _lady_,)
used by women of free birth. Female slaves are rarely sold or parted
with, except for extreme misconduct; and though it is customary for
their masters, in the event of their becoming mothers, to enfranchise
and marry them, "the facility of divorce is such, that women, if
mothers, prefer remaining slaves to being legally married: as they are
aware that custom prevents their being sold when in the former
condition: whereas their having a family is no bar to divorce when
married."
The guilds, or corporations of the different trades and professions,
to which allusion has more than once been made, and which constitute
what may be called the municipality of Constantinople, were formerly
mustered and paraded through the city, on every occasion when the
Sandjak-Shereef (or holy banner of Mahommed) was taken from the
seraglio to accompany the army. This gathering, the object of which
was to ascertain the number of men who could be levied in case of
extremity for the defence of the capital, was first ordained by Mourad
IV.,[31] before his march against Bagdad in 1638; when, according to
Evliya Effendi, 200,000 men fit to bear arms passed in review--and the
last muster was in the reign of Mustapha III., at the commencement of
the disastrous war with Russia in 1769. Its subsequent discontinuance
is said to have been owing to an insult then offered by the guild of
_emirs_ (or descendants of the Prophet) to the Austrian Internuncio,
who was detected in witnessing incognito the procession of the
Sandjak-Shereef, deemed too sacred for the eyes of an infidel--and a
tumult ensued, in which many Christians were maltreated and murdered,
and which had nearly led to a rupture with the court of Vienna. On
this occasion the number of guilds was forty-six, subdivided into 554
minor sections; and, excepting the disappearance of those more
immediately connected with the janissaries, it is probable that little
or no change has since taken place. These guilds included not only the
handicraft and other trades, but the physicians and other learned
professions, and even the _Oolemah_ and imams, and others connected
with the mosques. Each marched with its own badges and ensigns, headed
by its own officers, of whom there were seven of the first grade, with
their deputies and subordinates, all elected by the crafts, and
entrusted with the control of its affairs, subject to the approbation
of a council of delegates: while the property of these corporations is
invariably secured by being made _wakoof_, the nature of which has
been already explained. The shoemakers', saddlers', and tanners'
guilds are among the strongest in point of numbers, and from them were
drawn the _elite_ of the janissaries stationed in the capital, after
the cruel system of seizing Christian children for recruits had been
discontinued; the tailors are also a numerous and resolute craft,
generally well affected to government, to which they rendered
important services in the overthrow of the janissaries in 1826, when
the Sandjak-Shereef[32] was displayed in pursuance of the _Fethwa_ of
the mufti excommunicating the sons of Hadji-Bektash, and the guilds
mustered in arms by thousands for the support of the Sheikh al Islam
and the Commander of the Faithful.
Among these fraternities, one of the most numerous is that of the
_kayikjees_ or boatmen, of whom there are not fewer than 19,000,
mostly Turks, in the city and its suburbs; while 5000 more, nearly all
of whom are Greeks, are found in the villages of the Bosphorus. They
are all registered in the books of the _kayikjee-bashi_, or chief of
the boatmen, paying each eight piastres monthly (or twice as much if
unmarried) for their _teskera_ or license: and cannot remove from the
stations assigned them without giving notice. The skill and activity
of these men, in the management of their light and apparently fragile
skiffs, has been celebrated by almost every tourist who has floated on
the waters of the Golden Horn and the Bosphorus: and not less precise
is the accuracy with which is adjusted the number of oars to be
employed by the members of the European _corps diplomatique_, and the
great officers of the Porte, according to their relative ranks; the
smallest infringement of which would be regarded as an unpardonable
breach of etiquette. The oars and mouldings are painted of the
national colours, with the hulls white or black; the latter colour is
usually affected by the Turkish grandees, with the exception of the
capitan-pasha, who is alone privileged to use a green boat.
Ambassadors-extraordinary are entitled to ten oars; and the same
number is assigned to the grand-vizir, the mufti, and ministers
holding the rank of _mushir_, or marshal, the highest degree in the
new scale of Ottoman precedence. Pashas of the second rank, the
_cazi-askers_ or grand judges of Anatolia and Roumelia, with other
functionaries of equivalent grade, are allowed eight oars, the number
employed by the Austrian Internuncio, and by ministers-plenipotentiary;
while three or five pair of sculls are allotted to _charges
d'affaires_, and the heads of different departments at the Porte. The
procession of the sultan, when he proceeds to the mosque by water,
consists of six kayiks, the largest of which is seventy-eight feet in
length, and pulled by twenty-four rowers--under the old _regime_ the
crew was taken from the bostandjis, whose chief, the bostandji-bashi,
held the helm; but since the abolition of that corps, they have been
chosen, without distinction of creed, from the common boatmen. The
imperial barge is distinguished, independent of its superior size, by
the gold-embroidered canopy of crimson silk, surmounted by crescents
at the stern; it is painted white within and without, with rich gilt
mouldings, under which runs a broad external green border, ornamented
with gilded arabesques. The oars are painted white, with gold scrolls;
the stern is adorned with massive gilt carvings; and the long
projecting prow with a richly-gilded ornament, representing a
palm-branch curling upwards. Behind this flutters a gilded falcon, the
emblem of the house of Osman. The carvings and ornaments of these
boats are elaborately finished, and exquisitely light and graceful.
These embellishments, combined with the loose white dresses,
blue-tasselled red caps, and muscular forms of the boatmen, as they
rise from their seats, vigorously plunge their oars into the dark blue
waters, and propel the kayiks with racehorse speed, give to these
splendid vessels an air of majesty and brilliancy, not less
characteristic than original and imposing.
Many instances have occurred, in which men have risen from the class
of boatmen to stations of high honour and dignity; the most recent
instance of which was in the case of the arch-traitor Achmet Fevzy
Pasha, who, in 1839, betrayed the Ottoman fleet under his command into
the hands of Mohammed Ali--a deed of unparalleled perfidy, for which
he righteously received a traitor's reward, perishing in January 1843
(as was generally believed) by poison administered by the orders of
the Egyptian Viceroy. The kayikjees, as a class, are generally
considered, in point of personal advantages, the finest body of men in
the empire; and share with the _sakkas_, or water-carriers--another
numerous and powerful guild, equally remarkable with the kayikjees for
their symmetry and athletic proportions--the dangerous reputation of
being distinguished favourites of the fair sex--doubly dangerous in a
country where, in such cases, "the cord or scimitar is the doom of the
stronger sex--the deep sea-bed that of the weaker. Money will
counterbalance all crimes in Turkey save female frailty. For this
neither religious law nor social customs admit atonement. Tears,
beauty, youth, gold--untold gold--are of no avail. The fish of the
Bosphorus and Propontis could disclose fearful secrets, even in our
days:"--and as a natural transition, apparently, from cause to effect,
Mr White proceeds, in the next chapter, to give an account of the
Balyk-Bazary, the Billingsgate of Stamboul. But we shall not follow
him through his enumeration of such a carte as throws the glories of a
Blackwall dinner into dim eclipse, and which no other waters of Europe
could probably rival:--since, in Mr White's usual course of digression
upon digression, the mention of the Fishmarket Gate, the usual place
of executions, leads him off again at a tangent to the consideration
of the criminal law, and its present administration in the Ottoman
Empire.
There is no change among those wrought since the introduction of the
new system, more calculated forcibly to impress those who had known
Constantinople in former years, than the almost total cessation of
those public executions, the sanguinary frequency of which formed so
obtrusive and revolting a feature under the old _regime_. Since the
fate of the unfortunate Pertef Pasha in 1837, no one has suffered
death for political offences:--and the abolition by Sultan Mahmoud,
immediately after the destruction of the janissaries, of the
_Moukhallafat Kalemy_, or Court of Confiscations, put an end to the
atrocious system which had for centuries made wealth a sufficient
pretext for the murder of its possessors. In all cases of banishment
or condemnation to death, however arbitrary, confiscation of property
inevitably followed: but the wealthy Armenians and Greeks were usually
selected as the victims of these ruthless deeds of despotism and
rapacity; numerous records of which may be seen in the Christian
burying-grounds, where the rudely-carved figure of a headless trunk,
or a hanging man, indicates the fate of the sufferer. But the humane
and politic act of Mahmoud, which rendered riches no longer a crime,
has produced its natural effects in the impulse which has been given
to commercial activity and public confidence by the security thus
afforded to life and property. "The government finds the Armenians
willing to advance money in case of need; and there is scarcely a
pasha of rank who has not recourse to their assistance, which is the
more readily afforded, as the Armenians are aware that their debtors'
lives and property, as well as their own, are secure, and that they
shall not endure extreme persecution in the event of suing those on
whom they have claims."
In criminal cases, the administration of justice by the Moslem law
appears at all times to have been tempered by lenity; and the extreme
repugnance of the present sultan to sign death-warrants, even in cases
which in this country would be considered as amounting to wilful
murder, has rendered capital punishments extremely rare: while the
horrible death by impalement, and the amputation of the hand for
theft, have fallen into complete disuse. Offences are tried, in the
first instance, in the court of the Cazi-asker or grand judge of
Roumelia or Anatolia, according as the crime has been committed in
Europe or Asia: from this tribunal an appeal lies to the Supreme
Council of justice, the decisions of which require to be further
ratified by the Mufti. The _proces-verbal_ of two of the cases above
referred to, is given at length; in one of which the murderer escaped
condign punishment only because the extreme youth of the only
eye-witness, a slave, nine years old, prevented his testimony from
being received otherwise than as _circumstantial_ evidence:--in the
other, "it being essential to make a lasting and impressive public
example, it was resolved that the criminals should not be put to
death, but condemned to such ignominious public chastisement as might
serve during many years as a warning to others." The sentence in the
former case was ten, and in the latter, seven years' public labour in
heavy irons--a punishment of extreme severity, frequently terminating
in the death of the convict. Nafiz Bey, the principal offender in the
second of the above cases, did not survive his sentence more than
twenty months. "On examining a multitude of condemnations for crimes
of magnitude, the maximum average, when death was not awarded, was
seven years' hard labour in chains, and fine, for which the convict is
subsequently imprisoned as a simple debtor till the sum is paid. The
average punishment for theft, robbery, assault, and slightly wounding,
is three years' hard labour, with costs and damages. These sentences
(of which several examples are given) were referred, according to
established forms, from the local tribunals to the supreme council:
and before being carried into effect, were legalized by a _fethwa_
(decree) of the Sheikh-Islam, (Mufti,) and after that by the sultan's
warrant; a process affording a triple advantage to the accused, each
reference serving as an appeal."