fortress of Königgrätz, pursued by cavalry, volleyed at by infantry,
and exposed to ever-increasing showers of shell-fire. Yet from some
positions of advantage they continued to retaliate in kind; and it was
while standing watching the pursuit that King William and his suite
became exposed to a terrific counter-fire of shells. Bismarck, who was
still with him, ventured to chide his Majesty for thus exposing his
precious person so unnecessarily. “Does your Majesty, then, think they
are swallows?” asked Bismarck, on the King affecting to make light
of the whizzing of shells and bullets. “No one,” wrote Bismarck to
his wife, “would have ventured to speak to the King as I did, when a
whole mass of ten troopers and fifteen horses of a Cuirassier regiment
lay wallowing in their blood close to us, and the shells whizzed in
unpleasant proximity to the King, who remained just as quiet and
composed as if he had been on the parade-ground at Berlin.” In spite of
all remonstrances the King would not budge, so, edging up on his dark
chestnut behind the King’s mare, Bismarck gave her a good sly kick with
the point of his boot, and made her bound forward with her royal rider
out of the zone of fire.
[Illustration: GRAVE-STONES ERECTED ON THE BATTLE-FIELD IN
MEMORY OF THE FALLEN.]
On coming up with the troops of the Crown Prince, the King had been
nearly swallowed up by them for sheer joy. At sight of the venerable
monarch, who had been exposing his person throughout the bloody fray
like the most dutiful of his soldiers, battalion after battalion--some
the mere shadows of their former selves--burst into frenzied cheering
and rushed forward, officers and men, to kiss the hand, the boot, the
stirrup of their beloved leader. But presently a scene more touching
still was presented to the victorious Prussian troops, when the heroic
Crown Prince rode up and met his father. “I reported to the King,”
wrote the Crown Prince, “the presence of my army on the battle-field,
and kissed his hand, on which he embraced me. Neither of us could speak
for a time. He was the first to find words, and then he said he was
pleased that I had been successful, and had proved my capacity for
command, handing me at the same time the order ‘_Pour le mérite_’
(highest of Prussian war decorations) for my previous victories.”
Earlier in the day “Unser Fritz” had met his cousin the Red Prince.
“We waved our caps to one another from afar, and then fell into one
another’s arms amid the cheering of the troops of my extreme right and
his extreme left wing.... Two years ago I embraced him as victor at
Düppel; to-day we were both victors: for, after the stubborn stand made
by his troops, I had come to decide the day with my army.”
The battle had been won, but at what a terrible cost! Even the victors
shuddered at the sight of the multitudes of bodies which heaped
the bloody field. By superior arms, superior numbers, and superior
strategy, Prussia, at the cost of 10,000 of her bravest sons, had
won a crowning victory over her Austrian rival, who lost 40,000 men
(including 18,000 prisoners), 11 standards, and 174 guns. “I have
lost all,” exclaimed the defeated Benedek, “except, alas! my life!”
The highest proportion of the Prussian loss of 10,000 had fallen on
Franzecky’s Division, whereof 2,000, out of 15,000, had bitten the
Bohemian dust. But “_Franzecky vor!_” (“Franzecky to the front!”)
will always live in the Prussian soldier’s song as a memory of the
ever-ready leader who bore the brunt of the awful struggle on the line
of the Bistritz.
That same night the King slept at Horitz--not upon a bed, but on his
carriage cushions spread out on a sofa. Bismarck’s couch was at first
formed by a wisp of straw under the open colonnade of the same townlet,
though afterwards he was invited to share the wretched room of the
Grand Duke of Mecklenburg. Moltke rode back to Gitschin, a distance of
about twenty miles from the battle-field, where a cup of weak tea was
all the refreshment that could be got for him; and then, in a fever of
fatigue, he threw himself down to sleep in his clothes, as he had to be
up betimes and return to Horitz to procure the King’s sanction for his
further plans.
[Illustration: “THE CROWN PRINCE RODE UP AND MET HIS
FATHER” (_p._ 83).]
It was he, the “Great Silent One,” who had won the greatest and most
momentous battle of modern times.
It had taken Frederick the Great seven long years to humble the
pride of Austria; it took William the Victorious, with Moltke as his
“battle-thinker,” but seven short days to achieve the same result. The
Prussian soldier preferred to call the battle which he had just helped
to win, Königgrätz, because this name sounded to his ears as but a pun
on the words “_Dem König geräth’s_” (“The King will win”). But the
King had only won by acting on the sage advice of his all-calculating
Moltke, whose motto was “_Erst wägen, dann wagen_”--that is,
“First weigh, then away!”
[Illustration: AYACUCHO
By W. B. ROBERTSON]
That war whereby the power of Spain was broken in South America, is
known as the South American War of Independence. On the one side
was the imperial power of Spain fighting for supremacy; on the
other side were her colonists--creoles, American natives of Spanish
blood--fighting for freedom.
The first pitched battle was fought in Mexico near Aculco, in 1810; the
last, on the plain of Ayacucho, in Peru, on December 9th, 1824.
Venezuela, Colombia, and Ecuador had already thrown off the Spanish
yoke when General Bolivar, towards the end of 1823, arrived with
his victorious army in Peru. He was hailed as “The Deliverer,” and
addressed the National Congress at Lima in these words:--
“The soldiers who have come from the Plate, the Maule, the Magdalena,
and the Orinoco as the deliverers of Peru will not return to their
native country till they are covered with laurels, till they can pass
under triumphal arches, nor till they can carry off as trophies the
standards of Castille. They will conquer and leave Peru free, or they
will die. This I promise.”
These words spoken, it remained to make them actualities; and how this
was done will form our story.
In June of the following year Bolivar took the field with 10,000
infantry and 2,000 cavalry. His cantonments were at Truxillo, and from
there he began to move southwards to meet the enemy. The Spanish troops
comprised 3,500 at Cuzco under the Viceroy of Peru, Laserna; 6,500
at Arequipa and Jauja under Canterac, and 1,000 away in the remote
south under General Valdez, who was soon to be recalled to assist his
companions in arms. The Spanish force nearest to Bolivar was thus
General Canterac’s. This force was remarkably efficient and in the
highest state of discipline. Its equipments were superior and complete;
its artillery and cavalry particularly well appointed; and, what was
not always the case with the liberating army, the troops were paid with
the greatest regularity--a strong conducive to good discipline and
order.
On August 2nd Bolivar reviewed his army on the tableland between Rancas
and Pasco, a little north of Reyes, situated at an altitude of 12,000
feet above the level of the sea, and amid a scene as majestic as may
be found in the world. On the west rose the Andes, while on the east,
and stretching away to the Brazils were the sublime ramifications of
the Cordilleras. Surrounded by natural displays of such magnitude,
Bolivar’s army, composed of veterans who had fought in the Peninsular
War, seen the conflagration of Moscow and the capitulation of Paris--as
well as purely South American troops--looked a mere handful. Still it
was enthusiastic, and the hills rang with “Vivas” at the termination
of the General’s stirring address that was read simultaneously to each
corps.
“Soldiers,” so ran the address, “you are about to finish the
greatest undertaking Heaven has confided to men--that of saving
an entire world from slavery.
“Soldiers! the enemies you have to overthrow boast of fourteen
years of triumphs; they are, therefore, worthy to measure their
swords with ours, which have glittered in a thousand combats.
“Soldiers! Peru and America expect from you Peace, the
daughter of Victory. Even liberal Europe beholds you with
delight, because the freedom of the New World is the hope of
the universe. Will you disappoint it? No! No! No! You are
invincible.”
Meanwhile, Canterac, having united his forces at Jauja, was marching
northwards to meet Bolivar. Between the two there lay a lake, and the
patriot army marched south on the west side of this lake, while the
Spanish army marched north on the east side. The result of this was
to delay for four months the general engagement that was expected.
Instead of the armies meeting face to face on the line of their march,
only detachments entered into action on the plain of Junin, which
lies to the south of the lake. It was purely a cavalry engagement,
this--not a shot was fired; the lance and sabre alone were used. As it
was, the Royalists were worsted, losing nineteen officers, 345 rank
and file, and eighty prisoners. The Patriots lost only three officers
and forty-two rank and file, with a few wounded. Canterac now fell
back upon Cuzco, which he reached with less than 5,000 men, his ranks
thinned mostly by heavy desertions. The Patriot army continued to
advance towards Cuzco, falling in, however, with no enemy. In October,
Bolivar, expecting no further engagements that year, left the army and
set out for Lima to hasten forward reinforcements that were expected
from Colombia. He gave instructions to his second in command, General
Sucre, to go into cantonments at Andahuaylas and Abancay, and, as the
rainy season was about to commence, to cease active hostilities for the
time being.
Bolivar had not been gone three days, when General Sucre began
to question in his own mind the wisdom of his superior officer’s
instructions; so he called a council-of-war, at which, besides himself,
were Generals La Mar, Lara, and Miller--the last, a distinguished
British soldier. At this council-of-war it was agreed that if they did
as Bolivar had commanded, and lay idle in their tents, the Spanish
forces, recruited and united at Cuzco, would come upon them and
annihilate them. The position was a delicate one, for obedience to a
superior officer is a soldier’s first duty. Still, there was Valdez
marching from the south to join Canterac and Laserna at Cuzco, and it
was proposed to endeavour to intercept Valdez. Operations were thus
entered upon in the face of Bolivar’s strict orders to the contrary,
and these operations had the effect of drawing the enemy out of his
stronghold.
Now followed two months of the most extraordinary manœuvring that ever
preceded a battle. The Royalists, under the Viceroy Laserna, began to
move in a westerly direction from Cuzco, and the Patriots to fall back.
Twice the Patriot army offered battle, and twice it was refused. The
Royalists, sure of success, sought to get behind the Patriots, thus
cutting off their retreat and so annihilating them. At length, after
several brushes--of which the most serious occurred in the Valley of
Corpuguayco, where, besides losing their spare horses and some mules,
the Patriots had 200 men killed, as against a death-roll of thirty on
the other side--a position was reached which seemed to satisfy the
requirements of both parties for the final grip. That position was
on the plain of Ayacucho; and it is here that Bolivar’s address to
the soldiers should have been delivered rather than on the eve of the
affair of Junin: for it was here that the blow was struck that made the
power of Spain in South America reel and totter to its fall.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF AYACUCHO.
Dec. 9 1824.]
The plain of Ayacucho is situated at an altitude of 11,000 feet above
sea-level, in the Peruvian department of Ayacucho. It is square-shaped
and about two or three miles in circuit. On its north and south sides
it is flanked by deep and rugged ravines. On the west it descends
gradually for a couple of leagues to what was then the high road to
Lima, and which runs along the base of a lofty mountain range which
rises like a wall. On this side was stationed the Patriot army, its
retreat by this road cut off by detachments sent by the Spanish Viceroy
to destroy the bridges and render the defiles impassable. On the east
side the plain was terminated by the abrupt ridge of Condorkanki, and
a little below the summit of this ridge the Royalist army bivouacked
during the night preceding the fight. It was on the afternoon of the
8th of December that the respective armies reached these positions.
The eve of battle is worth describing. After the men on each side had
been refreshed, and about two hours before sunset, a Spanish battalion
of light infantry filed down into the plain and extended itself at
the foot of the hill. A light infantry battalion of the Patriot army
went forth to meet it. The opposing battalions, arrayed in extended
files, engaged in skirmishing and performed evolutions to the sound
of the bugle. The steadiness and behaviour of the men on each side
were admired by the officers, and both parties agreed now and then to
intervals of rest. During these intervals officers from the opposing
sides approached one another and engaged in conversation. In the
Patriot army was a Spaniard, Lieutenant-Colonel Tur, whose marriage to
a beautiful woman of Lima had made him espouse the native cause. In the
other army was his brother, Brigadier-General Tur, who sent a message
to the former, saying how he regretted to see him, a Spaniard, in the
ranks of rebels, and bearing arms against his king and country. “Yet,”
the message continued, “you may rely upon my protection when the coming
battle will have placed you at the mercy of the Loyalists.” The other
brother was disposed to resent this message as an insult; still, they
drew near to each other and ultimately embraced in view of both armies.
When the shadows began to deepen across the plain, the different
battalions retired to their quarters to waken to more serious work in
the morning.
To waken, we have said. It is doubtful, however, if a single eye on
Ayacucho were closed in slumber that night. All knew that they were
about to engage in battle; none knew what the result might be, and
whether this might not be his last night on earth. Both sides were
wearied with the terrible marches and counter-marches, over mountains,
down rocky defiles, and with the harassing watchfulness that had been
continuously maintained. It was with the greatest difficulty that
the officers of the Royalist army had kept their troops together.
To prevent them from deserting, the different corps had habitually
bivouacked in column, surrounded by sentinels, and outside of these
again had been placed a circle of officers on constant duty. No soldier
was allowed to pass the sentinels, who had strict orders to shoot
down any one attempting to do so. Even detachments were not sent out
for cattle and provisions, in case they should refuse to return; so
the Royalists had been obliged to eat the flesh of horses, mules, and
asses. These galling restraints the soldiers knew could be ended in
only one way, and that was by a decisive engagement with the enemy.
So eager were they thus rendered for the fray that they had begun
to murmur against their leaders, and were loudly accusing them of
cowardice in avoiding a conflict with the foe.
On the other side, the Patriots, too, were sick of manœuvring. They
had been subject to constant harassing attacks from hostile Indians,
who hurled stones down the mountain sides into their ranks while on
the march, attacked detached parties, even made prisoners, whom they
cruelly ill-treated. Again, their provisions were nigh exhausted, and
so scarce had their horses become that many of the cavalry soldiers
were mounted on mules. These matters, instead of improving, were with
the progress of time only becoming worse. All, then, were anxious to
have a termination put to the weary round of monotonous marching, with
increasing exposure to dangers that from their continual presence had
ceased to be exciting. Men so placed are not likely to sleep during the
night preceding the day of battle. Besides, the distance between the
two armies measured only a mile, and Sucre, fearing that the Royalists
might descend from their heights to surprise them in the dark, kept
his corps in close column ready for the attack. He also sent forward
the bands of two battalions with a company to the foot of the ridge.
These continued to play during the night while a sharp fire was kept
up upon the Royalist outposts, the idea being to make believe that
the Patriots were under arms waiting to join in fight. In this way a
lieutenant-colonel and three men were killed in the Spanish camp by
chance bullets, so near were the opposing armies.
Under Sucre were 5,780 men, and these were arranged on the plain in the
following order:--
Bogota, Caracas, Voltigeros, and Pinchincha regiments, under General
Cordova, on the right.
Hussars of Junin, Granaderos of Colombia, Hussars of Colombia,
Granaderos of Buenos Ayres regiments, cavalry, under General Miller, in
the centre.
Nos. 1, 2, and 3 Legions regiments, under General La Mar, on the left.
Bargas, Vencedores, Rifles regiments, under General Lara, in reserve.
Artillery: one 4-pounder in front, under Commandant La Fuente.
The Royalist army numbered 9,310, and was commanded by the Viceroy,
Laserna. It was posted on Condorkanki--a division under General Valdez
on the north side of the height or extreme right of the Royalists; next
to him, and still on the Royalist right, a division of infantry under
General Monet, in the centre cavalry, and on the left a division of
infantry with seven pieces of artillery under General Villalobos. At
dawn of day, an unperceived movement took place in the Royalist camp.
The division under General Valdez, comprising four field-pieces, four
battalions, and two squadrons of hussars, stole away to the north.
[Illustration: ‘“THERE LIES MY LAST HORSE!”’
(_p._ 90.).]
It was a chilly morning while the men were buckling on their armour,
saddling their horses, examining their bayonets, and putting in order
their various accoutrements. Amongst the things that the Colombia
cavalryman had to do on mounting was the fixing of his bridle reins
above his knees. By this means he guided his charger, and so had his
hands left free to wield his heavy lance--a strong, tough sapling from
twelve to fourteen feet long. The Patriot cavalry, let it be mentioned,
were the finest horsemen in the world, drawn from the _gauchos_
of the pampas, the _guasos_ of Chili, and the _llaneros_ of
Colombia--all accustomed to ride from childhood.
Well, while such little details as we have mentioned were in progress,
and the mounting sun had tempered the chilly air, the men on both sides
were observed rubbing their hands and in other trifling ways showing
the satisfaction which the nearness of the onset gave them.
At nine o’clock the first move forward began.
[Illustration: “THE ROUTED SPANIARDS CLAMBERED UP THE
RUGGED SIDES” (_p._ 90).]
Then the division of infantry on the Royalist left under General
Villalobos commenced to wind down the rugged side of Condorkanki.
Laserna, the Viceroy, on foot, placed himself at the head of the
descending files, and, obliquing to the left, led them into the plain.
The other division of Royalist infantry, under General Monet, came
down direct, while between these two divisions similarly descended
the cavalry, the men leading their horses. As the different files
reached the plain they silently formed into column. Meanwhile, General
Sucre, of the Patriot army, rode along his line, and to each corps
individually, in forcible words, recalled the achievements of the past.
This done, he took up a position in the centre, and to his whole army
in a loud voice, said: “Soldiers! Remember that upon the efforts of
this day depends the fate of South America.”
Then began the forward movement of the Patriots, the division of
infantry under General Cordova and two regiments of cavalry being
ordered to advance. Cordova, in front of his division, now formed into
four parallel columns with cavalry in the intervals, having gone a few
steps, dismounted, and plunging his sword into his charger, exclaimed:
“There lies my last horse! I have no means of escape, and we must fight
it out together.”
This display of spirit on the part of their leader roused the men to
such enthusiasm that they became irresistible. They thought of the
enemy, not as something to be feared, but only as something to be
vanquished. The consequence was that, having discharged their muskets,
and Cordova’s shout of “Onward, with the step of conquerors!” ringing
in their ears, they pressed forward and crossed bayonets with the foe.
For four minutes, which contained the work of hours, the two contending
forces struggled, the mass swaying now this way and now that, so that
it was impossible to tell which would give way. At an opportune moment
the Colombian cavalry charged at full gallop, and with both hands free
wielding their tough lances with such force that, their onset proved
irresistible, and the Royalists lost ground. The vigour of the Patriots
was only increased by this advantage, which they followed up with such
effect that the Royalists were hopelessly driven back with terrible
slaughter. Colonel Silva, who led the cavalry charge, had fallen,
covered with wounds. Wounded now, too, and taken prisoner, was Laserna,
the Viceroy himself--representative of the proud monarch of Spain. The
routed Spaniards clambered up the rugged sides of Condorkanki, and the
chasing Patriots deploying, fired upon the fugitives, whose lifeless
bodies rolled down the height till stayed by jutting crags or bushes.
While the crags and bushes of Condorkanki are being thus bathed in
Spanish blood, quite a different fortune is attending the Patriot
arms on their left. As already mentioned, General Valdez, with four
field-pieces, four battalions and two squadrons of cavalry, had stolen
at dawn of day, unperceived by the Patriots, away northwards from
the Spanish camp. The object of that manœuvre now became apparent.
He had made a _detour_ of several miles, and while the contest
we have just witnessed was still in the balance, suddenly opened a
heavy fire from his four field-pieces and a battalion in extended
files upon the Patriot left. This obliged two battalions of General La
Mar’s division, posted on the left, to fall back, and its retreat was
not prevented by the battalion Bargas from General Lara’s division,
which had been kept in reserve, sent to support it. Two of Valdez’s
battalions had now crossed the ravine into the plain, and pressed at
the double-quick upon the retiring Patriots. At this juncture General
Miller, who held a portion of the Patriot cavalry in reserve, led the
Hussars of Junin against the Spaniards, and drove them back across the
ravine. This brilliant charge conducted by Miller saved the battle.
La Mar’s division was thereby enabled to rally, and came to Miller’s
support. The Patriots in this part of the field, animated by Cordova’s
success against the Viceroy and the shouts of victory that were echoed
back from Condorkanki, proved an easy match for Valdez’s now somewhat
scattered forces, and the Spanish general, so famous for his marches
and tactical skill, soon found his division broken, his artillery
taken, his cavalry flying in disorder, and his infantry dispersed.
The day was now lost and won in little more than an hour, and the
vanquished Royalists flying in all directions.