CHAPTER XIII.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.

—This work is divided into three volumes, all of them available on PG;

index is on third volume. It has been splitted replacing every item in

the volume where they belong. A full version of index has been

mantained at the end of third volume.

HISTORICAL

PARALLELS.

IN THREE VOLUMES.

VOL. III.

LONDON:

CHARLES KNIGHT & Co., LUDGATE STREET.

1846.

LONDON: WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET.

CONTENTS.

Page

CHAPTER XIII.

Siege of Platæa—Numantia—Tyre—Syracuse—Lines of

Circumvallation—Siege of Jerusalem—Of La Réole—Effects of the

invention of gunpowder—Siege of Ostend—Magdeburg—Character of

the mercenary troops of the seventeenth century—Siege of

Zaragoza 5

CHAPTER XIV.

Corcyrean sedition—Civil wars of Rome—Jacquerie—Factions of the

Circus at Constantinople—Massacre of Sept. 2, 1792 78

CHAPTER XV.

Character of Cleon—Blockade and capture of the Lacedæmonians

at Pylos—Comparison with the capture of Porto Bello by Admiral

Vernon—Greek comedy—Sketch of the Knights of

Aristophanes—Subsequent history of Cleon—Account of the Popish

Plot—Character and history of Titus Oates—Mutilation of

the Hermæ at Athens 121

CHAPTER XVI.

Athenian expedition against Sicily—Siege of Syracuse—Retreat

and destruction of the army—Retreat of Ney in Russia—Retreat

of Sir John Hawkwood in Italy 171

CHAPTER XVII.

Sketch of the interval which elapsed between the defeat in

Sicily, and the battle of Arginusæ—Battle of

Arginusæ—Prosecution and death of the Athenian

Generals—Massacre of the De Witts—End of the Peloponnesian war 198

CHAPTER XVIII.

History and character of Socrates—Account of his

death—Prosecution of John Huss, and Jerome of Prague—Attempt

to re–establish Prelacy in Scotland—Brown—Guthrie—Reformation

in England—Account of Rowland Taylor 218

INDEX OF VOLUME III. 285

GENERAL INDEX OF PRINCIPAL SUBJECTS IN ALL VOLUMES 286

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Page

Medal, containing a plan of Ostend 5

Battering Ram, from Pompeii 22

Moveable Towers, from ditto 25

Plan of Zaragoza 63

Hippodrome of Constantinople 113

Medal struck after Sir E. Godfrey’s murder 151

Medal of Titus Oates 168

Prow of an ancient vessel found at Genoa 198

Disposition of Athenian fleet at Arginusæ 201

Medal struck after the massacre of the De Witts

Obverse 211

Reverse 212

Bust of Socrates 218

Head of Plato 242

The medals have been engraved from the originals in the British Museum.

HISTORICAL PARALLELS.

CHAPTER XIII.

[Illustration: Medal struck after the siege of Ostend.]

Siege of Platæa—Numantia—Tyre—Syracuse—Lines of circumvallation—Siege

of Jerusalem—Of La Réole—Effects of the invention of Gunpowder—Siege of

Ostend—Magdeburg—Character of the mercenary troops of the seventeenth

century—Siege of Zaragoza.

The cautious policy of Pericles, and the plague, combined to render

the two first years of the war barren of incidents. The third campaign

opened more energetically with the siege of Platæa, the old and

faithful ally of Athens. This is the earliest siege of which we have

any full and particular account; and some surprise may be felt at the

rudeness and inefficacy of the means employed in prosecuting it by the

most military nation of Greece. For this, however, all previous history

prepares us. To the early Greeks fortifications of any strength appear

to have presented insuperable obstacles. Not a city of any note can be

mentioned which was taken by fair fighting. Troy was impregnable by

force. Eira was taken in consequence of its being accidentally left

unguarded.[1] Ithome held out for ten years, and at last obtained

honourable terms of surrender. And when Cyrus marched against Babylon,

the inhabitants, trusting in their walls and their magazines, “made

no account at all of being besieged; but Cyrus became greatly puzzled

what to do, having spent much time there and made no progress at

all.”[2] The stratagem by which he took it at last is well known: he

laid dry the bed of the Euphrates, and introduced a body of troops

through the deserted channel; yet danger, even from this quarter, had

been foreseen and guarded against, if proper caution had been used.

Each side of the river was lined with walls, and gates were placed at

the end of the streets which led down to the water side; so that, as

Herodotus himself remarks, if the Persians had been on their guard the

attempt might have been defeated by merely closing the gates, and the

assailants might have been cut off entirely by missile weapons. But, to

return to Platæa; the Spartans were notoriously unskilled, even among

the Greeks, in this branch of warfare. Military engines they had none;

a want arising probably from their national poverty; for the ram was

known, and was employed, some say invented, by Pericles, at the siege

of Samos, some years before the Peloponnesian war broke out. It is

remarkable that from this time downwards to the invention of gunpowder,

no material discovery was made in this branch of the military art,

except the introduction of moving towers. Lines of circumvallation, as

they were the earliest, continued to be the surest means of overcoming

the pertinacious resistance of stone and mortar. Such was the case

even at Rome, after the vast influx of wealth from conquered provinces

had facilitated the construction of the largest and most expensive

machines; and the vast scale upon which those temporary enclosures were

completed, exhibits most strikingly the laboriousness of the Roman

legionaries. This, however, is foreign to our present subject. If the

reader has any curiosity respecting these works, he will find some

remarkable ones described in Cæsar’s Commentaries.[3]

Just before war broke out between Athens and Sparta, the Thebans,

always jealous of Athens, and more especially envious of its strict

connection with Platæa, over which, as the head of the Bœotian

confederacy, they claimed the same undefined but oppressive authority

which was exercised by the Athenians and other leading cities over

their allies, made an attempt to gain possession of Platæa, in concert

with a party within its walls, consisting of citizens dissatisfied

with the existing government. By the contrivance of the latter, a

body of Theban troops was introduced by night, who without a struggle

became, to all appearance, masters of the town, piled their arms in the

market–place, and invited the inhabitants to place themselves under the

protection of Thebes. But the Athenian party was greatly preponderant,

and discovering the small number of their enemies they took courage

and assaulted them. Almost all the Thebans were made prisoners, and

subsequently put to death, in contravention of a promise of personal

security implied, if not absolutely expressed in words. Immediate

notice of what had occurred was sent to the Athenians, who, considering

this as the commencement of war, removed the women and children, and

all who were unfit for military duty, from Platæa, sending thither

eighty of their own citizens to increase the garrison, and also

probably to guard against any further attempts on the part of the

disaffected.

No disturbance was given to Platæa during the two first years of the

war. At the commencement of the third, Archidamus, the Spartan king

and general, finding that the annual devastation of Attica was of no

service to the Peloponnesian confederacy, and unwilling perhaps to

incur the hazard of entering an infected country, marched to Platæa,

which, in consequence of its exertions in the Persian war, had been

invested by the general consent of Greece with privileges of an almost

sacred character. The nature of these privileges, and the singular

proposal to which they gave rise, will be best understood from the

narration of Thucydides.

“The next summer the Peloponnesians and their confederates came not

into Attica, but turned their arms against Platæa, led by Archidamus,

the son of Zeuxidamus, king of the Lacedæmonians, who, having

pitched his camp, was about to waste the territory thereof. But the

Platæans sent ambassadors presently unto him, with words to this

effect:—’Archidamus, and you Lacedæmonians, you do neither justly,

nor worthy yourselves and ancestors, in making war upon Platæa. For

Pausanias of Lacedæmon, the son of Cleombrotus, having (together

with such Grecians as were content to undergo the danger of the

battle that was fought in this our territory) delivered all Greece

from the slavery of the Persians, when he offered sacrifice in the

market–place of Platæa to Jupiter the deliverer, called together all

the confederates, and granted to the Platæans this privilege: that

their city and territory should be free; that none should make unjust

war against them, nor go about to enslave them; and if any did, the

confederates then present should use their utmost ability to revenge

their quarrel.[4] These privileges your fathers granted us for our

valour and zeal in those dangers. But now do you the clean contrary,

for you join with our greatest enemies, the Thebans, to bring us into

subjection. Therefore calling to witness the gods then sworn by, and

the gods peculiar to your ancestral descent, and our own local gods,

we require you, that you do no damage to the territory of Platæa, nor

violate those oaths; but that you suffer us to enjoy our liberty in

such sort as was allowed us by Pausanias.’[5]

“The Platæans having thus said, Archidamus replied, and said thus:—’Men

of Platæa, if you would do as ye say, you say what is just. For as

Pausanias hath granted to you, so also be you free; and help to set

free the rest, who having been partakers of the same dangers then,

and being comprised in the same oath with yourselves, are now brought

into subjection by the Athenians. And this so great preparation and

war is only for the deliverance of them and others: of which if you

will especially participate, keep your oaths; at least (as we have also

advised you formerly) be quiet, and enjoy your own, in neutrality,

receiving both sides in the way of friendship, neither side in the way

of faction. And these things will content us.’ Thus said Archidamus.

And the ambassadors of Platæa, when they heard him, returned to the

city; and having communicated his answer to the people, brought word

again to Archidamus, ‘That what he had advised was impossible for them

to perform, without leave of the Athenians, in whose keeping were their

wives and children; and that they feared also for the whole city, lest

when the Lacedæmonians were gone the Athenians should come and take

the custody of it out of their hands; or that the Thebans, as being

comprehended in the oath that they would admit both parties, should

again attempt to surprise it.’ But Archidamus, to encourage them,

made this answer: ‘Deliver you unto us Lacedæmonians your city and

your houses; show us the bounds of your territory; give us your trees

by tale, and whatsoever else can be numbered; and depart yourselves,

whither you shall think good, as long as the war lasteth. And when it

shall be ended we will deliver it all unto you again: in the mean time

we will keep these things as deposited, and will cultivate your ground,

and pay you rent for it, as much as shall suffice for your maintenance.’

“Hereupon the ambassadors went again into the city, and having

consulted with the people, made answer: ‘That they would first acquaint

the Athenians with it, and if they would consent they would then accept

the condition; till then they desired a suspension of arms, and not to

have their territory wasted.’ Upon this he granted them so many days’

truce as was requisite for their return, and for so long forbore to

waste their territory. When the Platæan ambassadors were arrived at

Athens, and had advised on the matter with the Athenians, they returned

to the city with this answer: ‘The Athenians say, that neither in

former times, since we where their confederates, did they ever abandon

us to the injury of any, nor will they now neglect us, but give us

their utmost assistance; and they conjure us, by the oath of our

fathers, not to make any alienation touching the league.’

“When the ambassadors had made this report, the Platæans resolved in

their councils not to betray the Athenians, but rather to endure, if

it must be, the wasting of their territory before their eyes, and to

suffer whatsoever misery could befal them; and no more to go forth, but

from the walls to make them this answer: ‘That it was impossible for

them to do as the Lacedæmonians had required.’ When they had answered

so, Archidamus the king first made a protestation to the gods and

heroes of the country, saying thus: ‘All ye gods and heroes, protectors

of the land of Platæa, be witnesses that we neither invade this

territory, wherein our fathers, after their vows unto you, overcame

the Medes, and which you made propitious for the Grecians to fight

in, unjustly now in the beginning, because they have first broken the

league they had sworn; nor what we shall further do will be any injury,

because though we have offered many and reasonable conditions, they

have yet been all refused. Assent ye also to the punishment of the

beginners of injury, and to the revenge of those that bear lawful arms.’

“Having made this protestation to the gods, he made ready his army for

the war. And first having felled trees, he therewith made a palisado

about the town that none might go out. That done, they raised a mound

against the wall, hoping, with so great an army all at work at once,

to have quickly taken it. And, having cut down timber in the mountain

Cithæron, they built a frame of timber and wattled it about on either

side, to serve instead of a wall, to keep the earth from falling too

much away, and cast into it stones and earth, and whatsoever else would

serve to fill it up. Seventy days and nights continually they cast up

the mound, dividing the work between them for rest in such manner, as

some might be carrying, whilst others took their sleep and food. And

they were urged to labour by the Lacedæmonian officers, who commanded

severally the contingents of the allied cities. The Platæans seeing

the mound to rise, made the frame of a wall with wood, which, having

placed on the wall of the city in the place where the mound touched,

they built it within full of bricks, taken from the adjoining houses,

for that purpose demolished; the timbers serving to bind them together,

that the building might not be weakened by the height. The same was

also covered with skins and leather, both to keep the timber from shot

of wildfire and those that wrought from danger. So that the height of

the wall was great on one side, and the mound went up as fast on the

other. The Platæans used also this device; they broke a hole in their

own wall, where the mound joined, and drew the earth from it into the

city. But the Peloponnesians, when they found it out, rammed clay into

cases made of reeds, which they cast into the cavity, with intention

that the mound should not moulder, and be carried away like loose

earth. The Platæans, excluded here, gave over that plot, and digging a

secret mine, which they carried under the mound from within the city

by conjecture, fetched away the earth again, and were a long time

undiscovered; so that the earth being continually carried out below,

it was no use to cast fresh stuff on the mound, which still settled

down into the excavation. Nevertheless, fearing that they should not be

able even thus to hold out, being few against many, they devised this

further; they gave over working at the high wall against the mound, and

beginning at both ends of it, where the wall was low, built another

wall in form of a crescent, inward to the city, that, if the great wall

were taken, this might resist, and put the enemy to make another mound,

in the continuing of which further inwards they should have their

labour over again, and withal should be more exposed on either side to

missile weapons. And at the same time that they were raising the mound,

the Peloponnesians brought to the city their engines of battery; one of

which, by help of the mound, they applied to the high wall, wherewith

they much shook it, and put the Platæans into great fear; and others to

other parts of the wall, which the Platæans broke partly by casting

ropes about them, and partly with great beams, which being hung in long

iron chains by either end upon two other great beams jetting over, and

inclining from above the wall like two horns, they drew up to them in

a horizontal position, and when the engine was about to make a blow

any where, they let go the chains and let the beam fall, which, by the

violence of its descent, broke off the head of the battering–ram.

“After this, the Peloponnesians, seeing their engines availed not, and

thinking it hard to take the city by any present violence, prepared

themselves to draw an enclosure all around it. But first they thought

fit to attempt it by fire, being no great city, and when the wind

should rise, if they could, to burn it; for there was no way they

did not think on, to have gained it without expense and long siege.

Having therefore brought faggots, they cast them from the mound into

the space between it and their new wall, which by so many hands was

quickly filled; and then into as much of the rest of the city as

at that distance they could reach; and throwing amongst them fire,

together with brimstone and pitch, kindled the wood, and raised such

a flame, as the like was never seen before, made by the hand of man.

For it has been known that a forest in the mountains has taken fire[6]

spontaneously from the friction of its boughs in a high wind, and burst

into flames. But this fire was a great one, and the Platæans, that had

escaped other mischiefs, wanted little of being consumed by this; for

there was a large part of the town within which it was impossible to

approach; and if the wind had blown the fire that way (as the enemy

hoped it might) they could never have escaped. It is also reported that

there fell uch rain then, with great thunder, and that the flame was

extinguished and the danger ceased by that.

“Now the Peloponnesians, when they failed likewise of this, retaining a

part of their army, and dismissing the rest, enclosed the city about

with a wall, dividing the circumference thereof to the charge of the

several cities. There was a ditch both within and without it, out of

which they made their bricks; and after it was finished, which was

about the rising of Arcturus,[7] they left a guard for one–half of the

wall (for the other was guarded by the Bœotians), and departed with the

rest of their army, and were dissolved according to their cities. The

Platæans had before this sent their wives and children and all their

unserviceable men to Athens. The rest were besieged, being in number

of the Platæans themselves four hundred, of Athenians eighty, and one

hundred and ten women to dress their meat. These were all when the

siege was first laid, and not more, neither free nor bond, in the city.

In this manner were the Platæans besieged.”[8]

The blockade continued for about a year and a half, during which the

historian does not advert to it. At the end of that time, in the

winter, B. C. 428–7, the garrison, after deliberation, being pressed by

hunger and despairing of any help from Athens, resolved to abandon the

city, and force a passage through the line of circumvallation. Half the

number took alarm at the seeming rashness of the attempt, and declined

to share it; but about two hundred and twenty persisted in their

resolution. We now return to the historian’s narrative:—

“As for the wall of the Peloponnesians, it was thus built; it consisted

of a double circle, one towards Platæa, and another outward, in case of

an assault from Athens. These two walls were distant one from the other

about sixteen feet; and that sixteen feet of space between them was

disposed and built into cabins for the force that kept the works, which

were so joined and continued one to another, that the whole appeared

to be one thick battlements stood a great tower of the same breadth

as the walls, and stretching across them from the inner to the outer

face, so that there was no passage by the side of a tower, but through

the midst of it. And such nights as there happened any storm of rain,

they used to quit the battlements of the wall, and to watch under the

towers, as being not far asunder, and covered beside overhead. Such was

the form of the wall wherein the Peloponnesians kept their watch.

“The Platæans, after they were ready, waiting for a tempestuous night

of wind and rain, and withal moonless, went out of the city, and were

conducted by those men who had proposed the attempt. And first they

passed the ditch that was about the town, and then came up close to

the wall of the enemy, who through the darkness could not see them

coming, nor hear them for the clatter of the storm, which drowned the

noise of their approach. And they came on besides at a good distance

one from the other, that they might not be betrayed by the clashing

of their arms; and were but lightly armed, and not shod but on the

left foot, for the more steadiness in the mud. They came thus to the

battlements in one of the spaces between tower and tower, knowing that

there was now no watch kept there. And first came they that carried

the ladders, and placed them to the wall; then twelve lightly armed,

only with a dagger and a breast–plate, went up, led by Ammeas, the son

of Coræbus, who was the first that mounted; and after him ascended

his followers, to each tower six. To these succeeded others lightly

armed, that carried the darts, for whom they that came after carried

targets at their backs, that they might be the more expedite to get

up, which targets they were to deliver to them when they came to the

enemy. At length, when most of them were ascended, they were heard by

the watchmen that were in the towers; for one of the Platæans, taking

hold of the battlements, threw down a tile, which made a noise in the

fall, and presently there was an alarm, and the army ran to the wall,

for in the dark and stormy night they knew not what the danger was.

And the Platæans that were left in the city came forth withal, and

assaulted the wall of the Peloponnesians on the opposite part to that

where their men went over; so that they were all in a tumult in their

several places, and not any of them that watched durst stir to the aid

of the rest, nor were able to conjecture what had happened. But those

three hundred[9] that were appointed to assist the watch upon all

occasions of need, went without the wall, and made towards the place

of the clamour. They also held up the fires by which they used to make

known the approach of enemies, towards Thebes. But then the Platæans

likewise held out many other fires from the wall of the city, which for

that purpose they had before prepared, to confound the meaning of the

enemy’s signal–fires, and that the Thebans, apprehending the matter

otherwise than it was, might forbear to send help till their men were

over, and had recovered some place of safety.

“In the mean time those Platæans, which having scaled the wall first

and slain the watch, were now masters of both the towers, not only

guarded the passages by standing themselves in the entries, but also

applying ladders from the wall to the towers, and conveying many men

to the top, kept the enemies off with shot both from above and below.

In the mean space the greatest number of them having reared to the

wall many ladders at once, and beaten down the battlements, passed

quite over between the towers, and ever as any of them got to the

other side, they stood still upon the brink of the ditch, and with

arrows and darts kept off those that came along the wall to hinder the

passage of their companions. And when the rest were over, then last of

all, and with much ado, came they also which were in the two towers

down to the ditch. And by this time the three hundred, that were to

assist the watch, came and set upon them, and had lights with them; by

which means the Platæans that were on the further brink of the ditch

discerned them the better from out of the dark, and aimed their arrows

and darts at their most disarmed parts; for, standing in the dark, the

light of the enemy made the Platæans the less discernible: insomuch as

the last of them passed the ditch in time, though with difficulty and

force; for the water in it was frozen over, though not so hard as to

bear, but watery, and such as when the wind is at east rather than at

north; and the snow which fell that night, together with so great a

wind as there was, had very much increased the water, which they waded

through, with scarce their heads above. But yet the greatness of the

storm was the principal means of their escape.

“From the ditch the Platæans in troop took the way towards Thebes,

leaving on the right hand the shrine of the hero Androcrates, both

for that they supposed it would be least suspected that they had

taken the road leading to their enemies; and also because they saw

the Peloponnesians with their lights pursue that way, which, by Mount

Cithæron and the Oakheads, led to Athens; and for six or seven furlongs

the Platæans followed the road to Thebes; then turning off they took

that towards the mountain leading to Erythræ and Hysiæ, and, having

gotten the hills, escaped through to Athens, being two hundred and

twelve persons out of a greater number: for some of them returned

into the city before the rest went over, and one of their archers was

taken upon the ditch without. And so the Peloponnesians gave over the

pursuit, and returned to their places. But the Platæans that were

within the city knowing nothing of the event, and those that turned

back having told them that not a man escaped, as soon as it was day

sent a herald to entreat a truce for the taking up of their dead

bodies; but when they knew the truth, they gave it over. And thus these

men of Platæa passed through the fortification of their enemies, and

were saved.”[10]

A bolder and more fortunate stroke for life and liberty has never

been described. How deep must have been the mortification of those

whose courage failed at the decisive moment, upon learning the

brilliant success of their comrades’ attempt! Dearly did they pay for

disgracing their brave resistance by a single moment of timidity.

Forced at last by famine to yield up the town, which the besiegers

could at any time have taken by assault, but that they had an ulterior

object in wishing to obtain it by surrender, the only terms they

could obtain were, that they should surrender themselves and their

city to the justice of Sparta, so that none but the guilty should be

punished. Commissioners were sent out to try them. The only question

asked was this: Had they done any service to the Lacedæmonians or

their allies in the present war? The Platæans requested that instead

of merely answering this question they might reply at length; and

having obtained it, commissioned two persons to plead their cause.

They set forth the peculiarly hard situation in which this mode of

trial, if such it could be called, placed them; which, setting aside

the justice of their cause, required them to pronounce their own

certain condemnation. They reminded the hearers of their services in

the Persian war, of the privileges and immunities conferred on them

by Pausanias and the Greeks, and the respect due to their territory,

as the repository of the bones of those who fell in the great battle

which for ever relieved Greece from the fear of Persia. They urged,

that when they had sought alliance with Sparta, and protection against

Thebes, the Spartans themselves had rejected their petition, and

referred them to Athens; they suggested skilfully the high reputation

of the Spartans for probity, and dwelt on the disgrace which they

would incur, if, in a cause of such importance, they should commit

injustice. But they pleaded in vain: the character which they ascribed

to the Spartans, if ever deserved, was now deserved no longer, and

their fate was predetermined. The question, Had they done any good to

the Lacedæmonians? was repeated to them one by one; and as it could not

be answered in the affirmative, they were led off to execution to the

number of 200 Platæans and twenty–five Athenians. Nor was this a single

instance of barbarity, for it was the practice of the Spartans to put

their prisoners to death, even the crews of such merchant ships as they

captured; an example too readily followed by their antagonists. One,

and but one, such action may be cited in modern times, the massacre of

the Turkish prisoners at Jaffa, the most hateful, and save one perhaps

the most hated, of the remorseless actions of Napoleon. Yet for this

there is some shadow of excuse, however insufficient to justify the

deed to modern morals, in the broken parole of those who were put to

death. To the Greeks such excuse would have been ample; nay, none such

was required. Humanity has made no small progress, even in the midst

of warfare. The town of Platæa was levelled with the ground by the

Thebans.[11]

Similar was the fate, similar, but even more obstinate and remarkable

was the resistance, of Numantia, the last stronghold of those gallant

and generous Celtiberians, who, after the infamous murder of Viriatus,

upheld the liberties of Spain against Rome. During five successive

years, six Roman officers met with defeats, more or less signal, under

its walls, and peace, twice offered and concluded by the unsuccessful

generals to retrieve their safety, was as often disowned and violated

by the unblushing perfidy of the senate. The circumstances of one of

these treaties are so creditable to the _barbarian_ Spaniards, as they

were called by the Romans, that we will go somewhat out of the way to

relate them.

The highest estimate of the Numantine force falls short of 10,000

men. C. Hostilius Mancinus, consul A. U. 615 (B.C. 139), succeeding

to the command of 30,000 men employed in besieging them, found his

army so dispirited by a long train of reverses, that he judged it

best to retire to some distance from the town. He intended to effect

this secretly by a night march, but the besieged, getting notice of

his design, fell upon the Roman rear, killed 10,000, it is said, and

surrounded the rest in such a manner that escape was hopeless. Anxious

only for peace and independence, they readily accepted the terms

offered by Mancinus as a ransom for his army. What these were does

not appear, but they were sworn to by the consul and chief officers.

Mancinus, on the first rumour of his defeat, was recalled to Rome, and

deputies from Numantia accompanied him, to obtain the ratification of

the treaty. But the haughty senate, as once before in the celebrated

surrender at the Caudine Forks, refused to admit terms humiliating

to the dignity of the republic, though not to profit by the release

of their countrymen. The war was continued; but to satisfy their

notions of equity Mancinus was given up to the Numantines, a voluntary

testimony, to do him justice, to his own good faith in the transaction.

Returning to Spain with his successor, Furius, he was led naked to the

waist, his hands tied behind him, to the gates of Numantia. But the

Numantines refused to take vengeance on an innocent man; saying, that

the breach of the public faith could not be expiated by the death of

one person. Let the senate abide by the treaty, or deliver up those who

have escaped under the shelter of it.

At first perfidy did not seem to prosper. Furius and his successor

Calpurnius Piso made no more progress than their predecessors, and

so high grew the reputation of the besieged for valour, that no one,

Florus says, ever expected to see the back of a Numantine. At last,

A. U. 619, the Romans, weary of the war, and anxious above all things

to bring it to an end, re–elected to the office of consul Scipio

Æmilianus, celebrated as the final conqueror and destroyer of Carthage,

and expressly assigned Spain to him as his province, instead of

suffering the two consuls to draw lots for the choice of provinces, as

was the usual course. Scipio’s first care was to restore discipline

in his army, which he found corrupted by luxury. With this view he

expelled all the idle and profligate followers of the camp; practised

his troops in all military exercises, inured them to exposure and

fatigue, and when he thought the ancient tone of Roman discipline was

restored, led them, not against the formidable Numantines, but against

a neighbouring people. Obtaining a trifling advantage over a party of

the former who had attacked his foragers, he refused to prosecute it,

thinking it enough that the reputed invincibility of the Numantines

was disproved. On this occasion, says Plutarch, the Numantines being

reproached on their return to the city, for retiring before an enemy

whom they had so often beaten, replied, “The Romans might indeed be the

same sheep, but they had gotten a new shepherd.”

In the ensuing winter, his army being increased to 60,000 men, Scipio

determined to invest the town. Regardless of the disproportion of

force, the besieged often offered battle, which he refused, preferring

the slow work of famine to encountering the desperation of veteran

and approved soldiers. With this view he proceeded to draw lines of

circumvallation round the town; and it is said by Appian, that he

was the first general who ever took that method of reducing a place,

the garrison of which did not decline a battle in the open field.

The town was about three miles in compass, and lay on the slope of a

hill, at the foot of which ran the river Durius, now called the Douro.

Around it Scipio traced a double ditch, six miles in circuit, with a

rampart eight feet thick and ten feet high, not including a parapet

strengthened by towers at intervals of 125 feet. The river, where it

intersected the works, was effectually blocked up by chains and booms.

The besieged often endeavoured to check the progress of the Romans, but

the superiority of numbers, aided by restored discipline, was too much

for them.

The blockade had lasted six months, and the Numantines were hard

pressed by famine, before they condescended to inquire whether, if

they surrendered, they would meet with honourable treatment. An

unconditional surrender was required. Urged even to desperation,

they still refused to consign themselves to slavery or mutilation,

for the latter often was the fate of those whose strength and valour

the Romans had found reason to respect. Rather than submit to such a

fate, they consumed their arms and effects, and houses, in one general

conflagration, and dying by the sword, or poison, or fire, left the

victor nothing of Numantia to adorn his triumph but the name.[12]

Such was the unworthy fate of a city which had spared more Roman

soldiers than itself could muster armed men. “Most brave,” says the

historian, “and, in my opinion, most happy in its very misfortunes!

It asserted faithfully the cause of its allies; alone it resisted,

for how long a time, a nation armed with the strength of the whole

world.”[13] It is an easy thing to write rhetorical flourishes, and

very often mischievous as well as easy. Had Florus ever undergone one

tithe of the sufferings inflicted on the miserable Numantines, we might

possibly not have heard of their supreme felicity. It might have done

him some good by quickening his moral sense, and might have prevented

his beginning the next chapter with the assertion, that “hitherto the

Roman people was excellent, pious, holy.” Verily, such history as this

is a profitable study!

[Illustration: Battering–ram, combined with tower, from Pompeii, vol.

i. p. 78.]

In reading of such sieges as these, one of the first things which

strikes a reader not familiar with ancient warfare, is the extreme

rudeness of the methods employed, and the vast expense of time and

labour; yet, compared with earlier times, even the siege of Platæa is

of no extraordinary duration. Not to go back to the ten–year sieges of

Troy and Eira, the Messenians in Ithome held out against the Spartans

during nine years; and, in the Peloponnesian war itself, Potidæa

resisted for a still longer period than Platæa: such was the patience

of a besieging army in waiting for the slow operation of hunger, or for

some fortunate chance which, as at Eira, might give possession of the

town at an unguarded moment. Before the battering–ram was invented,

force could avail little against solid walls; and men soon found out,

with Wamba, in Ivanhoe, that their hands were little fitted to make

mammocks of stone and mortar. A well–conducted escalade might succeed;

a skilful stratagem might deceive the vigilance of the garrison; an

ingenious general might devise some method of attack which should

render walls useless, as in the attempt to burn out the Platæans, and

might derive some advantage from natural facilities, or even from

natural obstacles, so as to convert what the besieged most trusted in

into the means of their destruction; but to overthrow or pass the walls

by violence was commonly beyond his power. But the introduction of the

ram worked a material change in the relative strength of the besiegers

and besieged, for few walls could be found strong enough to bear the

repeated application of its powerful shocks. Next in importance to the

ram were those huge moving towers which overtopped walls, and were

provided with drawbridges, by means of which, the battlements being

previously cleared of their defenders by missile weapons from above, a

body of troops might at once be thrown upon them.

[Illustration: Moveable towers, from Pompeii, vol. i. p. 80.]

No material alteration in the methods of attack took place till the

discovery of gunpowder gave force enough to projectiles to batter down

the strongest walls, without exposing men and machinery to the hazard

of close approach. The only improvements which did take place consisted

in supplying means by which the assailants might approach with less

danger to the foot of the walls, and there apply the powerful ram, or,

in some instances, resort to mining.

In illustration of these remarks we may notice, very shortly, two

of the most remarkable sieges in ancient history, those of Tyre and

Syracuse, both resolutely sustained, both finally successful, both

carried on by rich and powerful nations who commanded every thing

that the best skill of the engineer, or the labour of numbers, could

effect. The first was undertaken by Alexander soon after the battle

of Issus, B.C. 333. From past ages the Phœnicians had been celebrated

among Asiatics for their maritime skill, and Tyre was the most powerful

of the Phœnician cities. Trusting in their naval strength to obviate

blockade and famine, and in the height of their walls and strength

of their situation to repel violence, the Tyrians refused admission

to Alexander, remaining faithful to their engagements with Persia.

Too weak at sea to assault the walls from his fleet, Alexander had no

resource but to carry out a mole to the island. Near the walls there

were three fathoms of water, which shoaled gradually to the shore. The

mole was built of stone, heaped up, we may suppose, of rough uncemented

blocks, like the Plymouth breakwater, and strengthened with piles; and

the top was constructed entirely, or in part, of wood. At first it

proceeded with despatch, but more slowly and more difficultly as it

approached the walls, from which the besieged annoyed the workmen with

missiles, and, at the same time, constantly harassed them from the sea.

To protect themselves from these attacks the Macedonians built on the

verge of the mole two high towers, armed with engines, and covered with

raw hides as defence against darts armed with fire. These the Tyrians

destroyed by a peculiarly constructed fire–ship. Having filled a large

transport with dry twigs and combustible matter, they fixed two masts

in the prow, heaped faggots high around them, and added pitch, sulphur,

and every thing that was proper to feed the flames. To each mast they

fastened two yard–arms, from the ends of which two cauldrons were

suspended, filled with combustibles. The ballast they moved entirely to

the stern, to raise her head as high out of the water as possible. Thus

prepared, they took advantage of a favourable wind to run her up on

the mole, and set fire to her, the crew escaping by swimming; and both

mole and towers were speedily involved in the conflagration. Meanwhile

the Tyrians, from ships and boats, assisted in the ruin, destroyed the

piles, and burnt those engines which would otherwise have escaped the

flames. The work therefore had to be recommenced, and it was rebuilt on

a larger scale.[14]

While this labour was proceeding, Alexander’s fleet was reinforced in

consequence of the submission of the Cypriots and Sidonians, to an

extent which enabled him to command the sea, and compelled the Tyrians

to block up the mouths of their harbours. Numerous mechanics were

employed in constructing military engines; some of which were placed

on board the largest ships of the fleet, and the rest were mounted

on the mole. The Tyrians, still to have the advantage of height,

built wooden towers upon their walls facing the mole. This would seem

scarcely necessary if we credit Arrian’s assertion, that the city

wall in that part was 150 feet high;[15] but it gives us a scale for

measuring the altitude of Alexander’s towers, which we may assume,

from this precaution, to have been as great or greater. On the side to

the sea they cast fiery darts into the attacking ships, and showers of

stones, which not only did much harm in their fall, but raised a bank

which made it impossible to get close up to the walls. The Macedonians

therefore were obliged to clear away these impediments; a work in

itself of difficulty and labour, increased by the resolution of the

Tyrians, who openly, by sending armed ships, and secretly, by means of

divers, cut adrift from their moorings the vessels employed on this

service. The Macedonians frustrated this method of defence by using

chains instead of cables for mooring, and succeeded at last in clearing

away the bank, and getting access to the wall. On the north side,

and that next the mole, it resisted their efforts; but a breach was

effected on the south side by battering from the ships, and an assault

was made, but without success. On the third day afterwards, the breach

being enlarged, a second assault was made under Alexander in person,

and the town was carried. Eight thousand Tyrians were slain, and thirty

thousand persons, natives and strangers, are said to have been sold for

slaves.

The most remarkable feature of this siege is the battering in breach

from the shipping, which would seem a most unstable base for the

cumbrous and weighty engines which must have been used. It may be

wished that Arrian had been more explicit on this subject, but he has

given no explanation of the means employed. Quintus Curtius relates

far greater wonders, and in the same proportion is less worthy of

belief than the plain and unassuming statement of Arrian, which we have

followed.

The siege of Syracuse, undertaken by the Romans under command of

Marcus Claudius Marcellus, B.C. 213, is rendered most remarkable by

the interposition of the celebrated geometrician Archimedes. Many

extraordinary stories are told of the wonderful things done by him,

which, if they rested only on the authority of Plutarch, and other

compilers of stories, it would be the natural and simple course to

reject; but some of the most singular are affirmed by Polybius, almost

a contemporary, well skilled in war, and of undoubted credit for

honesty and discernment; and one point, of which Polybius makes no

mention, has been ascertained to be practicable by modern experiment.

It is to be regretted that but a fragment of his account remains.

Syracuse was divided into five districts, the little island of Ortygia,

Acradina, Tycha, Neapolis, and Epipolæ. Marcellus directed his attack

against Acradina, which adjoined the sea, with fifty quinqueremes, or

vessels with five banks of oars, well filled with soldiers armed with

all kinds of missile weapons to clear the walls. He had also eight

ships fitted out in a peculiar way with machines called _sambucæ_,

from some fancied resemblance to a harp. They where thus prepared: two

ships were lashed together, the oars being taken from the two adjoining

sides, so as to form, as it were, one large double–keeled vessel,

affording a broad and stable base. A ladder was then made, four feet

broad, of the necessary height, protected at the sides and above with

gratings and hides, so as to form a sort of covered way to the very

summit of the walls. It was then so placed, the foot at the stern,

the head projecting beyond the prow, that it could be raised by ropes

run through pulleys at the mast–heads. At the top was a platform large

enough to contain four men, with high sides which turned on hinges, and

which being let down served as bridges to connect the ladder with the

walls of the besieged town.

At the request of Hiero, king of Syracuse, Archimedes had in past

years constructed a great number of machines for casting stones and

darts; with which the walls were so well supplied, that the Romans were

defeated in every attempt to approach: Marcellus ran his ships by night

beneath the walls, hoping to be within the range of these destructive

engines. Here, however, he was anticipated, for Archimedes had hollowed

chambers in the walls themselves, with narrow openings, like the

embrasures of a Gothic castle, from which archery, and the smaller

sorts of missile engines, were directed against the Roman ships with

destructive effect. Against the sambucæ he had contrived machines, from

which long beams or yards projected, when in use, far beyond the walls.

These were heavily weighted with stone or metal to the extent of not

less than ten talents, or 1250 pounds. A rapid circular motion being

then given to the beam by machinery within the walls, this weighted

lever was dashed against the ladder with such force as generally to

break it, while the ship itself was exposed to considerable danger.

This story not being good enough for Plutarch, he has told us, that

when the sambuca was a good way off the walls, a stone ten talents

weight was thrown into it, and then a second, and third, which

destroyed the vessel; and in consequence considerable ridicule has

been thrown on the tale. As told by Polybius it seems little open to

objection. Weights, not of half a ton, but several tons, are constantly

to be seen on our wharfs suspended on cranes, at a considerable

distance from a centre of motion. Add to one of these the machinery

requisite to give a rapid circular motion to the projecting arm thus

laden, and we have the engine of Archimedes, as described by Polybius.

The geometrician had also fitted out powerful cranes, with hooks and

chains, by which he could lift a ship almost out of the water. When it

was raised to the greatest practicable height, the chain was slipped,

and the vessel usually was either upset by the fall, or plunged so deep

as to fill with water. Marcellus is reported to have observed (it must

have been a forced joke), that Archimedes used his ships for cups to

draw water in. Finally he was obliged to abandon the attack by sea.

Appius Claudius, who conducted the siege by land, fared no better: and

it was resolved at last to give up all hopes of succeeding by force,

and trust to the slow operation of blockade. “Thus,” says Polybius,

“one man, and one art rightly prepared,[16] is for some matters a

mighty and a wonderful thing; for the Romans, having such power by land

and sea, take away but one old man of Syracuse, might have expected

immediately to capture the city; but while Archimedes was there, they

dared not even to attack it in that manner against which he was capable

of defending it.”

It is also said that Archimedes set the Roman ships on fire by means of

burning mirrors, composed of a combination of plane mirrors, adjusted

so as to reflect all the incident rays of light to the same point. The

possibility of this has several times been the subject of inquiry to

modern philosophers. Kircher took so much interest in the subject, that

he went to Syracuse expressly to inquire into the probable position of

Marcellus’s fleet, and he arrived at the conclusion, that it might have

been within thirty yards of the walls. Buffon’s experiments, made as

well as those of Archimedes with a combination of plane mirrors, are

conclusive as to the facility of setting tarred fir plank on fire at a

distance of one hundred and fifty feet, and the possibility of doing

it at considerably greater distances. Similar planks, and even more

combustible materials, were precisely what Archimedes had to deal with.

He is said to have operated in this way at the distance of a bow–shot,

in which there may very probably be exaggeration.

The sequel of the siege contains no matter of interest. Syracuse was

taken by surprise through the negligence of the guard, and Archimedes

is said to have been slain by a soldier, as he was deeply intent on the

solution of a problem.

Lines of circumvallation continued long to be the principal means

employed by the Romans in the reduction of strong places. Even the

inventive genius of Cæsar does not appear to have devised the means of

dispensing with this tedious and most laborious process. In his Gallic

wars he had frequent recourse to it, though the Gallic fortifications,

it might be thought, could not be of the most formidable description;

and the siege of Alesia furnishes one of the most remarkable instances

of it on record. The town stood on an eminence, surrounded on three

sides by hills of equal height, at a moderate distance: in front

extended a plain, three miles in length. Round the foot of this

eminence he dug a trench, twenty feet in width; and again, at an

interval of 400 feet, two more, of which the inner one was filled with

water: behind them he built a rampart twelve feet high, crowned with

battlements, and strengthened with towers at intervals of eighty feet;

and, more effectually to confine the besieged, and enable a smaller

force to guard the works, the space between them and the inner ditch

was filled with three distinct rows of obstacles. The first consisted

of a sort of abattis, made with large branches of trees, with the

ends squared and sharpened, set firmly in the earth (_cippi_). The

next were called lilies (_lilia_), from their resemblance to the

calix of that flower, with its upright pistil: these were circular

cup–shaped cavities, three feet deep, with a sharpened stake in the

centre, projecting about four inches above ground, and covered over

with brushwood to deceive assailants. Still nearer to the town iron

hooks (_stimuli_, like the Scottish _calthrop_, often used with effect

against the English cavalry) were scattered, to lacerate the feet of

the advancing enemy. The whole circuit of these works was fourteen

miles, and a similar series protected the troops from attack from

without.[17]

To come down to a period more interesting to modern readers, we find,

in the middle ages, the same principles of operation followed, but in a

ruder way, since neither men, nor money, nor science were so abundant

among the nations who established kingdoms on the ruins of the western

empire, as among the Romans; and, moreover, the turbulent independence

of a feudal army, whose term of service was usually limited to a

certain time, was unfitted for the severe labour, or the patient and

continued watching, which the Roman legionaries cheerfully underwent.

Still such skill as our ancestors of the middle ages had was borrowed

from the Romans; they employed the same species of machines, towers,

rams, and moveable galleries called cats, and the same or similar

projectile engines, mentioned under the same names of catapultæ,

onagri, scorpiones, &c., in the Latin authors of the eleventh and

twelfth centuries; and mangonels, trebuchets, war–wolfs, &c. in the

vernacular tongue. The first defence of a castle or city was usually

a strong wooden palisade called the barriers; and at these many of

the most obstinate contests and remarkable feats of arms recorded by

Froissart and other chroniclers of the times took place. These being

carried, the next step was to level the ground, drain or fill up the

ditch, and prepare for bringing up the battering–rams or towers, or

scaling–ladders, if it were thought fit to attempt an escalade. In the

first crusade the headlong valour of the Christian knights endeavoured

in vain to overleap the walls or force the gates of Jerusalem: time

was required to construct two moving towers, and on the difficulty

of procuring wood the fiction of the enchanted forest of Armida, in

Tasso’s poem, is founded. The leader of the Genoese, one of the great

maritime states of Italy, was the architect.

This man begunne with wondrous art to make

Not rammes, not mighty brakes, not slings alone,

Wherewith the firm and solid walls to shake,

To cast a dart, or throw a shaft or stone;

But, framed of pines and firres, did undertake

To build a forteresse huge, to which was none

Yet ever like, whereof he clothed the sides

Against the balles of fire with raw bulls’ hides.

In mortisses and sockets framed just

The beames, the studdes, and punchions joyned he fast;

To beat the cities wall, beneath forth burst

A ram with horned front; about her wast

A bridge the engine from her side out thrust,

Which on the wall, when need required, she cast;

And on her top a turret small up stood,

Strong, surely armed, and builded of like wood.

Set on a hundred wheels, the rolling masse

On the smooth lands went nimbly up and downe,

Though full of armes, and armed men it was,

Yet with small pains it ran as it had flowne;

Wondered the camp so quick to see it passe,

They praised the workmen, and their skill unknowne;

And on that day two towres they builded more,

Like that which sweet Clorinda burnt before.[18]

* * * * *

The archers shotte their arrowes sharpe and keene,

Dipt in the bitter juyce of poyson strong;

The shady face of heaven was scantly seen,

Hid with the cloud of shafts and quarries long;

Yet weapons sharp with greater fury beene

Cast from the towres the Pagan troops among;

For thence flew stones, and clifts of marble rocks,

Trees shod with iron, timber, logs, and blocks.

A thunderbolt seemed every stone; it brake

His limmes and armour so on whom it light,

That life and soule it did not only take,

But all his face and shape disfigured quight:

The lances staid not in the wounds they make,

But through the gored body tooke their flight

From side to side; through flesh, through skin and rinde

They flew, and flying left sadde death behinde.

But yet not all this force and fury drove

The Pagan people to forsake the walle,

But to revenge these deadly blowes they strove

With darts that flie, with stones and trees that fall;

For need so cowards oft courageous prove,

For liberty they fight, for life, for all,

And oft with arrows, shafts, and stones that flie,

Give bitter answer to a sharp replie.

This while the fierce assailants never cease,

But sternly still maintaine a threefold charge,

And ’gainst the cloud of shafts draw nigh at ease,

Under a pentise made of many a targe;

The armed towres close to the bulwarks prease,

And strive to grapple with the battled marge,

And launch their bridges out; mean while below

With iron fronts, the rammes the walls down throwe.

(68–71.)

Rinaldo, according to the romancer, raises a ladder, and scales the

walls single–handed; but Godfrey of Bouillon, who is present in one of

the towers, finds greater obstacles:—

For there not man with man, nor knight with knight

Contend, but engines there with engines fight.

For in that place the Paynims reared a post

Which late had served some gallant ship for mast,

And over it another beam they crost,

Pointed with iron sharpe, to it made fast

With ropes, which as men would the dormant tost

Now in, now out, now backe, now forward cast;

In his swift pullies oft the men withdrew

The tree, and oft the riding balke forth threw.

The mighty beame redoubled oft his blowes,

And with such force the engine smote and hit,

That her broad side the towre wide open throwes,

Her joynts were broke, her rafters cleft and split;

But yet, ‘gainst every hap whence mischief grows

Prepared, the piece (’gainst such extremes made fit),

Lanched forth two sithes, sharpe, cutting, long, and broade,

And cut the ropes, whereon the engine roade.

As an old rocke, which age, or stormy winde

Teares from some craggy hill, or mountaine steepe,

Doth breake, doth bruise, and into dust doth grinde

Woods, houses, hamlets, herds, and folds of sheep;

So fell the beame, and down with it all kinde

Of arms, of weapons, and of men did sweep,

Wherewith the towers once or twice did shake,

Trembled the walls, the hills and mountains quake.

(80, 81, 82.)

The Turks attempt to burn the tower with wildfire, but are prevented by

a providential tempest, and it approaches so close that the besiegers

throw their drawbridge on the walls. The courage of Godfrey was

animated by a divine vision of all those princes who had been slain in

the sacred war, bearing arms in behalf of the crusaders.

And on the bridge he stept, but there was staid

By Soliman, who entrance all denied;

That narrow tree to virtue great was made

The field, as in few blowes right soon was tried.

Here will I give my life for Sion’s aid,

Here will I end my days, the Soldan cried;

Behind me cut, or breake this bridge, that I

May kill a thousand Christians first, then die.

But thither fierce Rinaldo threatening went,

And at his sight fled all the Soldan’s traine;

What shall I do? if here my life be spent,

I spend and spill (quoth he) my blood in vaine;

With that his steps from Godfrey back he bent,

And to him let the passage free remaine,

Who threatening followed as the Soldan fled,

And on the walls the purple crown dispred:

About his head he tost, he turned, he cast

That glorious ensign with a thousand twines;

Thereon the wind breathes with his sweetest blast—

Thereon with golden rays glad Phebus shines:

Earth laughs for joy, the streames forbeare their hast,

Floods clap their hands, on mountains dance the pines;

And Sion’s towres and sacred temples smile

For their deliv’rance from that bondage vile.

(xviii. 98–100.)

We originally meant only to introduce Tasso’s description of the

towers, and have been led on to protract the quotation to far greater

length, from finding not only so lively, but there is all reason to

believe so accurate, a description, making allowance for a little

poetical exaggeration, of the mode of combat then in use. The poet

has at least the merit of being true to the facts related by the

historians. Two towers were constructed, one of which, intrusted to

the charge of Raymond, Count of Toulouse, was burnt by the besieged;

the other, directed by Godfrey in person, was brought safely up to

the walls. Large beams were applied to prevent its close approach, as

described by the poet, and these being cut away, were taken possession

of, and proved very serviceable to the crusaders. The walls were

cleared, not only by archery, but by a much less warlike and romantic

device. The wind blowing into the town, the assailants set on fire a

mattress stuffed with silk (_culcitram bombyce plenam_), and bags of

straw, so that “they who were appointed to defend the wall, unable to

open eyes or mouth, besotted and bewildered with the eddies of the

smoky darkness, deserted their post. Which being known, the general

with all haste commanded the beams which they had captured from the

enemy to be brought up, and one end resting on the machine, the other

on the wall, he ordered the moveable side of the tower to be let down;

which being supported on them, served in the place of a bridge of

suitable strength.”[19] This, it must be confessed, is a less romantic

way of gaining entrance than fighting hand to hand with Solyman: but

it is true, for the valour and personal prowess of Godfrey of Bouillon

were unsurpassed, and there is no reason to suspect that flattering

historians have perverted the fact, that Godfrey, noblest of the

crossed chiefs in character as in station, was the third man to enter

that holy city, for the delivery of which he longed so ardently, and

had sacrificed so much. Two brothers named Letold and Engelbert,

otherwise unknown to fame, were the first who won their way to these

contested walls.

For reasons above given the strong fortresses of feudal pride were

more frequently carried by a sudden and vigorous attack, than by the

tedious and expensive process of regular siege. Of such attacks some

remarkable instances occur in the wars between England and Scotland,

which at some future period we may perhaps notice; at present it is

more to our purpose to quote from the graphic pages of Froissart this

short passage, which is so completely ancient in character that change

the names and it might pass for the act of a Roman army:—

“The Englysshemen, that had lyen long before the Ryoll[20] more than

nyne weekes, had made in the mean space two belfroys of grete tymbre,

with four stages, every belfroy upon foure grete whelys, and the sydes

toward the towne were covered with cure boly,[21] to defend them fro

fyre and fro shotte; and into every stage there were poynted a C

archers: by strength of men these two belfroys were brought to the

walles of the towne, for they had so filled the dykes, that they might

well be brought just to the walles; the archers in these stages shotte

so holly togyder, that none durst apere at their defence, without they

were well pavysshed,[22] and between these two belfroys there were a

CC men with pic–axes to mine the walles, and so they brake through the

walles. * * * When sir Agous de Ban, who was captain within, knewe that

the people of the towne wolde yelde up, he went into the castell with

his companye of soudyers, and whyle they of the towne were entretyng he

conveyed out of the towne gret quantyte of wyne and other provisyon,

and then closed the castell gates, and sayd how he wolde not yeld up so

sone. Then the erle (of Derby) entred into the towne and layde siege

round about the castell as nere as he mighte, and rered up all his

engynes, the which caste nyght and day agaynst the walles, but they

dyd lytell hurt, the walles were so strong of harde stone; it was sayd

that of olde tyme it had been wrought by the handes of the Sarasyns,

who made their warkes so strongly that ther is none such now a dayes.

When the erle sawe that he colde do no good with his engynes, he caused

theym to cease; then he called to hym his myners, to thyntent that

they shuld make a myne under alle the walles, the whiche was nat sone

made.”[23]

In the time of Froissart the invention of gunpowder had already begun

to work a change in the art of war: still, then and for some time

afterwards, the imperfection of the artillery in use rendered them

of little real service.[24] Usually of immense and unwieldy size and

weight, the difficulty of transporting them from place to place was

extreme, and they could not be fired more than three or four times in

the day, at great expense and with uncertain execution. Even so late

as the siege of Magdeburg, in 1631, it is said that 1550 cannon shots

where fired against one wall with but little effect. But as the art

of gunnery advanced, the battering train was found to be an overmatch

for the strongest fortresses that had yet been constructed, and a new

system of fortification came gradually into use. Low bastions and

curtains took place of the lofty towers and walls of former castles;

and still the advantage is so entirely transferred from the besieged

to the besiegers, that the termination of a siege pursued according

to the rules of art is reduced almost to certainty as to the time

and method of its issue. This has diminished the interest of modern

sieges, by making ultimate capture almost a certainty, and rendering

it the interest of the garrison rather to make terms while they have

something to give up, than to hold out to those extremes of difficulty

and distress, of which ancient history abounds in striking examples.

It has also rendered both the attack and defence matters more of

combination and science, and less of individual gallantry. There is,

however, one war in the transition stage, as it were, from ancient to

modern tactics, distinguished especially by the number and length of

its sieges, and by the constancy and desperate valour shown by the

beleaguered party in every instance. Even were we indifferent to the

parties, the narrations would in themselves be deeply interesting,

but the nobleness of their cause renders the sufferings of the brave

defenders doubly affecting—their triumphs doubly glorious. The reader

will readily conclude that we refer to the desperate struggle of

the Netherlands for civil and religious liberty against the mighty

despotism of Spain. Three sieges which occurred in this war are

especially worthy of the reader’s attention, those of Leyden, Haarlem,

and Ostend. That of Leyden has been already noticed in the first

volume; and after some hesitation we have selected the siege of Ostend

for relation here, as being more full of incident, not of interest,

than that of Haarlem. We give it from the contemporary historian,

Bentivoglio:—

“We will now come to the siege of Ostend, which, being one of the most

memorable of this our age, doth certainly challenge, that, as much

brevity and diligence as may be being joyned together, it be duly

considered and represented with all clearness. It was above three years

before it was brought to an end; and it was almost as uncertain at the

last day as at the first to which side the victory did incline. The

besieged never wanted fresh succours by sea, nor did the besiegers

at any time cease advancing by land. Infinite were the batteries,

the assaults infinite; so many were the mines, and so obstinate the

countermines, as it may be almost affirmed as much work was done under

ground as above ground. New names were to be found for new engines.

There was a perpetual dispute between the sea and land: the works on

the latter could not operate so much as the mines made by the former

did destroy. Great store of blood ran every where, and men were readier

to lose it than to preserve it, till such time as the besieged wanting

ground, and rather what to defend than defence, they were at last

forced to forego that little spot of ground which was left them, and to

yield.

“Ostend stands upon the sea–shore, and in the midst of a marish ground,

and of divers channels which come from the continent; but it is chiefly

environed almost on all sides by two of the greatest of them,[25] by

which the sea enters into the land, and grows so high when it is full

sea, as you would rather think the town were buried than situated in

the sea. In former times it was an open place, and served rather for

a habitation for shepheards than for soldiers. But the importancy of

the seat being afterwards considered, the houses were inclosed with

a platform instead of a wall, and from time to time the line was so

flank round about it, as it proved to be one of the strongest towns

of all the province of Flanders. It is divided into two parts, which

are called the old town and the new. The former, which is the lesser,

stands towards the sea; the latter and greater lies towards the land.

The old town is fenced from the fury of the sea by great piles of wood

driven into the ground, and joined together for the defence of that

part, and there the waves sufficiently supply the part of a ditch.

The channels may be said to do the like on the sides; and, especially

at full sea, of channels they become havens, being then capable of

any kind of vessels, and by them at all times the middle size of

barks enter into the ditches, and from the ditches in diverse parts

into the town itself; to boot, with the chief wellflanked line on

the outside of the ditch, towards the land side is a strada coperta

raised, which is so well furnished with new flanks, and with a new

ditch, as this outward fortification doth hardly give way to any of

the inward ones. The town is but of a small compass, and is ennobled

rather by its situation and fortifications than by any splendour either

of inhabitants or houses. The United Provinces caused it to be very

carefully kept at this time, wherefore it was largely provided of

men, artillery, ammunition, and of whatsoever else was necessary for

the defence thereof. In this condition was the town when the Archduke

resolved to sit down before it.”

On the east of the town there was a detached fort called St. Alberto,

on the west another called Bredene, both which had been abandoned

by the garrison. These were occupied by the besieging army, which

proceeded to surround Ostend on the landward with a chain of works, not

without sharp fighting, for the governor, Sir Francis Vere, had raised

redoubts in front of his fortifications, and hotly contested every inch

of ground. It seemed also necessary to cut off the communication with

the sea, and with this view a bank was run out on the eastern side

from St. Alberto to prevent barks from entering by the channel on that

quarter. But it was also expedient to block up the channel on the side

of Bredene, and in doing this greater difficulties were to be overcome.

Historical Parallels, vol. 3 (of 3) · 第 1 / 8 章