JOSEPH I. AND CHARLES VI.
From 1710 to 1717.
Perplexities in Madrid.--Flight of Charles.--Retreat of the Austrian
Army.--Stanhope's Division Cut Off.--Capture of Stanhope.--Staremberg
Assailed.--Retreat to Barcelona.--Attempt to Pacify Hungary.--The
Hungarian Diet.--Baronial Crowning of Kagotsky.--Renewal of the
Hungarian War.--Enterprise of Herbeville.--The Hungarians
Crushed.--Lenity of Joseph.--Death of Joseph.--Accession of Charles
VI.--His Career in Spain.--Capture of Barcelona.--The Siege.--The
Rescue.--Character of Charles.--Cloisters of Montserrat.--Increased
Efforts for the Spanish Crown.--Charles Crowned Emperor of Austria and
Hungary.--Bohemia.--Deplorable Condition of Louis XIV.
Generals Stanhope and Staremberg, who managed the affairs of Charles,
with but little respect for his judgment, and none for his
administrative qualities, were in great perplexity respecting the course
to be pursued. Some recommended the transference of the court from
Madrid to Saragossa, where they would be nearer to their supplies.
Others urged removal to Barcelona, where they would be under the
protection of the British fleet. It was necessary to watch over Charles
with the utmost care, as he was in constant danger of assassination.
While in this state of uncertainty, tidings reached Madrid that the Duke
of Noailles was on the march, with fifteen thousand men, to cut off the
retreat of the Austrians, and at the same time Philip was advancing with
a powerful army from Valladolid. This intelligence rendered instant
action necessary. The Austrian party precipitately evacuated Madrid,
followed by the execrations of the people. As soon as the last
battalions had left the city, the ringing of bells, the firing of
artillery, and the shouts of the people, announced the popular
exultation in view of the departure of Charles, and the cordial greeting
they were giving to his rival Philip. The complications of politics are
very curious. The British government was here, through years of war and
blood, endeavoring to drive from his throne the acknowledged King of
Spain. In less than a hundred years we find this same government again
deluging Europe in blood, to reseat upon the throne the miserable
Ferdinand, the lineal descendant of this Bourbon prince.
Charles put spurs to his horse, and accompanied by a glittering
cavalcade of two thousand cavaliers, galloped over the mountains to
Barcelona. His army, under the leadership of his efficient English
general, followed rapidly but cautiously on, hoping to press through the
defiles of the mountains which separated them from Arragon before their
passage could be obstructed by the foe. The troops were chagrined and
dispirited; the generals in that state of ill humor which want of
success generally engenders. The roads were bad, provisions scarce, the
inhabitants of the country bitterly hostile. It was the middle of
November, and cold blasts swept through the mountains. Staremberg led
the van, and Stanhope, with four thousand English troops, occupied the
post of peril in a retreat, the rear. As the people of the country would
furnish them with no supplies, the pillage of towns and villages became
a necessity; but it none the less added to the exasperation of the
Spaniards.
A hurried march of about eighty miles brought the troops to the banks of
the Tagus. As General Staremberg, at the head of the advance guard,
pressed eagerly on, he left Stanhope at quite a distance behind. They
encamped for a night, the advance at Cifuentes, the rear at Brihuega.
The hostility of the natives was such that almost all communication was
cut off between the two sections of the army. In the confusion of the
hasty retreat, and as no enemy was apprehended in that portion of the
way, the importance of hourly communication was forgotten. In the
morning, as Stanhope put his troops again in motion, he was surprised
and alarmed in seeing upon the hills before him the banners of an
opposing host, far outnumbering his own, and strongly intrenched. The
Earl of Stanhope at once appreciated the nearly utter hopelessness of
his position. He was cut off from the rest of the army, had no
artillery, but little ammunition, and was almost entirely destitute of
provision. Still he scorned to surrender. He threw his troops behind a
stone wall, and vigorously commenced fortifying his position, hoping to
be able to hold out until Staremberg, hearing of his situation, should
come to his release.
During the whole day he beat back the assaults of the Spanish army. In
the meantime Staremberg was pressing on to Barcelona. In the evening of
that day he heard of the peril of his rear guard. His troops were
exhausted; the night of pitchy blackness, and the miry roads, cut to
pieces by the heavy artillery and baggage wagons, were horrible. Through
the night he made preparations to turn back to aid his beleaguered
friends. It was, however, midday before he could collect his scattered
troops, from their straggling march, and commence retracing his steps.
In a few hours the low sun of a November day sunk below the hills. The
troops, overtaken by darkness, stumbling through the gloom, and
apprehensive of a midnight attack, rested upon their arms, waiting,
through the weary hours, for the dawn of the morning. The second day
came, and the weary troops toiled through the mire, while Stanhope, from
behind his slight parapet, baffled all the efforts of his foes.
The third morning dawned. Staremberg was within some fifteen miles of
Briehuga. Stanhope had now exhausted all his ammunition. The inhabitants
of the town rose against him and attacked him in the rear, while the foe
pressed him in front. A large number of his troops had already fallen,
and no longer resistance was possible. Stanhope and the remnant of his
band were taken captive and conducted into the town of Briehuga.
Staremberg, unaware of the surrender, pushed on until he came within a
league of Briehuga. Anxiously he threw up signals, but could obtain no
response. His fears of the worst were soon confirmed by seeing the
Spanish army, in brilliant battle array, approaching to assail him.
Philip himself was there to animate them by his presence; and the heroic
French general, the Duke of Vendome, a descendant of Henry IV., led the
charging columns.
Though the troops of Staremberg were inferior in number to those of the
Spanish monarch, and greatly fatigued by their forced marches, a retreat
at that moment, in the face of so active an enemy, was not to be thought
of. The battle immediately commenced, with its rushing squadrons and its
thunder peals. The Spaniards, sanguine of success, and inspired with the
intensest hatred of their _heretical_ foes, charged with irresistible
fury. The left wing of Staremberg was speedily cut to pieces, and the
baggage taken. The center and the right maintained their ground until
night came to their protection. Staremberg's army was now reduced to
nine thousand. His horses were either slain or worn out by fatigue. He
was consequently compelled to abandon all his artillery and most of his
baggage, as he again commenced a rapid retreat towards Barcelona. The
enemy pressed him every step of the way. But with great heroism and
military skill he baffled their endeavors to destroy him, and after one
of the most arduous marches on record, reached Barcelona with a feeble
remnant of but seven thousand men, ragged, emaciated and bleeding.
Behind the walls of this fortified city, and protected by the fleet of
England, they found repose.
We must now turn back a few years, to trace the progress of events in
Hungary and Austria. Joseph, the emperor, had sufficient intelligence to
understand that the rebellious and anarchical state of Hungary was owing
to the cruelty and intolerance of his father. He saw, also, that there
could be no hope of permanent tranquillity but in paying some respect to
the aspirations for civil and religious liberty. The troubles in Hungary
distracted his attention, exhausted the energies of his troops, and
deprived him of a large portion of his political and military power. He
now resolved to try the effect of concessions. The opportunity was
propitious, as he could throw upon his father the blame of all past
decrees. He accordingly sent a messenger to the Hungarian nobles with
the declaration that during his father's lifetime he had never
interfered in the government, and that consequently he was in no respect
responsible for the persecution of which they complained. And he
promised, on the honor of a king, that instead of attempting the
enforcement of those rigorous decrees, he would faithfully fulfill all
the articles he had sworn to observe at his coronation; and that he
accordingly summoned a diet for the redress of their grievances and the
confirmation of all their ancient privileges. As proof of his sincerity,
he dismissed those ministers who had advised the intolerant decrees
enacted by Leopold, and appointed in their place men of more mild and
lenient character.
But the Hungarians, deeming themselves now in a position to enforce
their claims by the energies of their army, feared to trust to the
promises of a court so often perjured. Without openly renouncing
allegiance to Austria, and declaring independence, they, through
Ragotsky, summoned a diet to meet at Stetzim, where their session would
be protected by the Hungarian army. There was a large gathering of all
the first nobility of the realm. A spacious tent was spread for the
imposing assembly, and the army encircled it as with a sheltering
embrace. The session was opened with prayer and the administration of
the sacrament of the Lord's Supper. Will the time ever come when the
members of the United States Congress will meet as Christian brethren,
at the table of our Saviour, as they commence their annual deliberations
for the welfare of this republic? The nobles formed a confederacy for
the government of the country. The legislative power was committed to a
senate of twenty-four nobles. Ragotsky was chosen military chief, with
the title of Dux, or leader. Four of the most illustrious nobles raised
Ragotsky upon a buckler on their shoulders, when he took the oath of
fidelity to the government thus provisionally established, and then
administered the oath to his confederates. They all bound themselves
solemnly not to conclude any peace with the emperor, until their ancient
rights, both civil and religious, were fully restored.
In reply to the advances made by the emperor, they returned the very
reasonable and moderate demands that their chief, Ragotsky, should be
reinstated in his ancestral realms of Transylvania, that the claim of
_hereditary_ sovereignty should be relinquished, and that there should
be the restoration of those ancient civil and religious immunities of
which Leopold had defrauded them. Upon these conditions they promised to
recognize Joseph as their sovereign during his lifetime; claiming at his
death their time-honored right of choosing his successor. Joseph would
not listen for one moment to these terms, and the war was renewed with
fury.
The Hungarian patriots had seventy-five thousand men under arms. The
spirit of the whole nation was with them, and the Austrian troops were
driven from almost every fortress in the kingdom. The affairs of Joseph
seemed to be almost desperate, his armies struggling against
overpowering foes all over Europe, from the remotest borders of
Transylvania to the frontiers of Portugal. The vicissitudes of war are
proverbial. An energetic, sagacious general, Herbeville, with great
military sagacity, and aided by a peculiar series of fortunate events,
marched down the valley of the Danube to Buda; crossed the stream to
Pesth; pushed boldly on through the heart of Hungary to Great Waradin,
forced the defiles of the mountains, and entered Transylvania. Through a
series of brilliant victories he took fortress after fortress, until he
subjugated the whole of Transylvania, and brought it again into
subjection to the Austrian crown. This was in November, 1705.
But the Hungarians, instead of being intimidated by the success of the
imperial arms, summoned another diet. It was held in the open field in
accordance with ancient custom, and was thronged by thousands from all
parts of the kingdom. With great enthusiasm and public acclaim the
resolution was passed that Joseph was a tyrant and a usurper, animated
by the hereditary despotism of the Austrian family. This truthful
utterance roused anew the ire of the emperor. He resolved upon a
desperate effort to bring Hungary into subjection. Leaving his English
and Dutch allies to meet the brunt of the battle on the Rhine and in the
Netherlands, he recalled his best troops, and made forced levies in
Austria until he had created an army sufficiently strong, as he thought,
to sweep down all opposition. These troops he placed under the most
experienced generals, and sent them into Hungary in the summer of 1708.
France, weakened by repeated defeats, could send the Hungarians no aid,
and the imperial troops, through bloody battles, victoriously traversed
the kingdom. Everywhere the Hungarians were routed and dispersed, until
no semblance of an army was left to oppose the victors. It seems that
life in those days, to the masses of the people, swept incessantly by
these fiery surges of war, could only have been a scene, from the cradle
to the grave, of blood and agony. For two years this dismal storm of
battle howled over all the Hungarian plains, and then the kingdom, like
a victim exhausted, prostrate and bleeding, was taken captive and firmly
bound.
Ragotsky, denounced with the penalty of high treason, escaped to Poland.
The emperor, anxious no longer to exasperate, proposed measures of
unusual moderation. He assembled a convention; promised a general
amnesty for all political offenses, the restitution of confiscated
property, the liberation of prisoners, and the confirmation of all the
rights which he had promised at his coronation. Some important points
were not touched upon; others were passed over in vague and general
terms. The Hungarians, helpless as a babe, had nothing to do but to
submit, whatever the terms might be. They were surprised at the
unprecedented lenity of the conqueror, and the treaty of peace and
subjection was signed in January, 1711.
In three months after the signing of this treaty, Joseph I. died of the
small-pox, in his palace of Vienna. He was but thirty-three years of
age. For a sovereign educated from the cradle to despotic rule, and
instructed by one of the most bigoted of fathers, he was an unusually
good man, and must be regarded as one of the best sovereigns who have
swayed the scepter of Austrian despotism.
The law of hereditary descent is frequently involved in great
embarrassment. Leopold, to obviate disputes which he foresaw were likely
to arise, had assigned Hungary, Bohemia, and his other hereditary
estates, to Joseph. To Charles he had assigned the vast Spanish
inheritance. In case Joseph should die without male issue he had decreed
that the crown of the Austrian dominions should also pass to Charles. In
case Charles should also die without issue male, the crown should then
revert to the daughters of Joseph in preference to those of Charles.
Joseph left no son. He had two daughters, the eldest of whom was but
twelve years of age. Charles, who was now in Barcelona, claiming the
crown of Spain as Charles III., had no Spanish blood in his veins. He
was the son of Leopold, and of his third wife, the devout and lovely
Eleonora, daughter of the Elector Palatine. He was now but twenty-eight
years of age. For ten years he had been struggling for the crown which
his father Leopold had claimed, as succeeding to the rights of his first
wife Margaret, daughter of Philip IV.
Charles was a genteel, accomplished young man of eighteen when he left
his father's palace at Vienna, for England, where a British fleet was to
convey him to Portugal, and, by the energy of its fleet and army, place
him upon the throne of Spain. He was received at Portsmouth in England,
when he landed from Holland, with much parade, and was conducted by the
Dukes of Maryborough and Somerset to Windsor castle, where he had an
interview with Queen Anne. His appearance at that time is thus described
by his partial chroniclers:
"The court was very splendid and much thronged. The queen's behavior
toward him was very noble and obliging. The young king charmed all who
were present. He had a gravity beyond his age, tempered with much
modesty. His behavior in all points was so exact, that there was not a
circumstance in his whole deportment which was liable to censure. He
paid an extraordinary respect to the queen, and yet maintained a due
greatness in it. He had the art of seeming well pleased with every
thing, without so much as smiling once all the while he was at court,
which was only three days. He spoke but little, and all he said was
judicious and obliging."
Young Charles was engaged to the daughter of the King of Portugal; but
the young lady died just before his arrival at Lisbon. As he had never
seen the infanta, his grief could not have been very deep, however great
his disappointment might have been. He made several attempts to
penetrate Spain by the Portuguese frontier, but being repelled in every
effort, by the troops of Philip, he again embarked, and with twelve
thousand troops in an English fleet, sailed around the Peninsula,
entered the Mediterranean and landed on the shores of Catalonia, where
he had been led to believe that the inhabitants in a body would rally
around him. But he was bitterly disappointed. The Earl of Peterborough,
who was intrusted with the command of this expedition, in a letter home
gave free utterance to his disappointment and chagrin.
"Instead of ten thousand men, and in arms," he wrote, "to cover our
landing and strengthen our camp, we found only so many higglers and
sutlers flocking into it. Instead of finding Barcelona in a weak
condition, and ready to surrender upon the first appearance of our
troops, we found a strong garrison to oppose us, and a hostile army
almost equal to our own."
In this dilemma a council of war was held, and though many were in favor
of abandoning the enterprise and returning to Portugal, it was at last
determined, through the urgency of Charles, to remain and lay siege to
the city. Barcelona, the capital of Catalonia, was then the principal
sea-port of the Spanish peninsula on the Mediterranean. It contained a
population of about one hundred and forty thousand. It was strongly
fortified. West of the city there was a mountain called Montjoy, upon
which there was a strong fort which commanded the harbor and the town.
After a short siege this fort was taken by storm, and the city was then
forced to surrender.
Philip soon advanced with an army of French and Spaniards to retake the
city. The English fleet had retired. Twenty-eight French ships of war
blockaded the harbor, which they could not enter, as it was commanded by
the guns of Montjoy. The siege was very desperate both in the assault
and the defense. The young king, Charles, was in the most imminent
danger of falling into the bands of his foes. There was no possibility
of escape, and it seemed inevitable that the city must either surrender,
or be taken by storm. The French and Spanish army numbered twenty
thousand men. They first attempted to storm Montjoy, but were repulsed
with great slaughter. They then besieged it, and by regular approaches
compelled its capitulation in three weeks.
This noble resistance enabled the troops in the city greatly to multiply
and increase their defenses. They thus succeeded in protracting the
siege of the town five weeks longer. Every day the beleagured troops
from the crumbling ramparts watched the blue expanse of the
Mediterranean, hoping to see the sails of an English fleet coming to
their rescue. Two breaches were already effected in the walls. The
garrison, reduced to two thousand, and exhausted by superhuman exertions
by day and by night, were almost in the last stages of despair, when, in
the distant horizon, the long looked-for fleet appeared. The French
ships, by no means able to cope with such a force, spread their sails,
and sought safety in flight.
The English fleet, amounting to fifty sail of the line, and transporting
a large number of land troops, triumphantly entered the harbor on the
3rd of May, 1708. The fresh soldiers were speedily landed, and marched
to the ramparts and the breaches. This strong reinforcement annihilated
the hopes of the besiegers. Apprehensive of an immediate sally, they
retreated with such precipitation that they left behind them in the
hospitals their sick and wounded; they also abandoned their heavy
artillery, and an immense quantity of military stores.
Whatever energy Charles might have shown during the siege, all seemed
now to evaporate. When the shot of the foe were crumbling the walls of
Barcelona, he was in danger of the terrible doom of being taken a
captive, which would have been the annihilation of all his hopes.
Despair nerved him to effort. But now his person was no longer in
danger; and his natural inefficiency and dilatoriness returned.
Notwithstanding the urgent intreaties of the Earl of Peterborough to
pursue the foe, he insisted upon first making a pilgrimage to the shrine
of the holy Virgin at Montserrat, twenty-four miles from Barcelona.
This curious monastery consists of but a succession of cloisters or
hermitages hewn out of the solid rock. They are only accessible by steps
as steep as a ladder, which are also hewn upon the face of the almost
precipitous mountain. The highest of these cells, and which are occupied
by the youngest monks, are at an elevation of three or four thousand
feet above the level of the Mediterranean. Soon after Charles's
pilgrimage to Montserrat, he made a triumphal march to Madrid, entered
the city, and caused himself to be proclaimed king under the title of
Charles III. But Philip soon came upon him with such force that he was
compelled to retreat back to Barcelona. Again, in 1710, he succeeded in
reaching Madrid, and, as we have described, he was driven back, with
accumulated disaster, to Catalonia.
Three months after this defeat, when his affairs in Spain were assuming
the gloomiest aspect, a courier arrived at Barcelona, and informed him
that his brother Joseph was dead; that he had already been proclaimed
King of Hungary and Bohemia, and Archduke of Austria; and that it was a
matter of the most urgent necessity that he should immediately return to
Germany. Charles immediately embarked at Barcelona, and landed near
Genoa on the 27th of September. Rapidly pressing on through the Italian
States, he entered Milan on the 16th of October, where he was greeted
with the joyful intelligence that a diet had been convened under the
influence of Prince Eugene, and that by its unanimous vote he was
invested with the imperial throne. He immediately proceeded through the
Tyrol to Frankfort, where he was crowned on the 22d of December. He was
now more than ever determined that the diadem of Spain should be added
to the other crowns which had been placed upon his brow.
In the incessant wars which for centuries had been waged between the
princes and States of Germany and the emperor, the States had acquired
virtually a constitution, which they called a capitulation. When Charles
was crowned as Charles VI., he was obliged to promise that he would
never assemble a diet or council without convening all the princes and
States of the empire; that he would never wage war, or conclude peace,
or enter into alliance with any nation without the consent of the
States; that he would not, of his own authority, put any prince under
the ban of the empire; that confiscated territory should never be
conferred upon any members of his own family, and that no successor to
the imperial crown should be chosen during his lifetime, unless absence
from Germany or the infirmities of age rendered him incapable of
administering the affairs of the empire.
The emperor, invested with the imperial crown, hastened to Vienna, and,
with unexpected energy, entered upon the administration of the
complicated interests of his widespread realms. After passing a few
weeks in Vienna, he repaired to Prague, where, in May, he was, with much
pomp, crowned King of Hungary. He then returned to Vienna, and prepared
to press with new vigor the war of the Spanish succession.
Louis XIV. was now suffering the earthly retribution for his ill-spent
life. The finances of the realm were in a state of hopeless
embarrassment; famine was filling the kingdom with misery; his armies
were everywhere defeated; the imprecations of a beggared people were
rising around his throne; his palace was the scene of incessant feuds
and intrigues. His children were dead; he was old, infirm, sick, the
victim of insupportable melancholy--utterly weary of life, and yet
awfully afraid to die. France, in the person of Louis XIV., who could
justly say, "I am the State," was humbled.
The accession of Charles to the throne of the empire, and to that of
Austria, Hungary and Bohemia, while at the same time he claimed
sovereignty over the vast realms of the Spanish kingdom, invested him
with such enormous power, that England, which had combined Europe
against the colossal growth of France, having humbled that power, was
disposed to form a combination against Austria. There was in consequence
an immediate relaxation of hostilities just at the time when the French
batteries on the frontiers were battered down, and when the allied army
had apparently an unobstructed way opened to the gates of Paris. In this
state of affairs the British ministry pressed negotiations for peace.
The preliminaries were settled in London on the 8th of October, 1711. By
this treaty Louis XIV. agreed to make such a change in the law of
hereditary descent, as to render it impossible for any king to wear at
the same time the crowns of France and of Spain, and made various other
important concessions.
Charles, whose ambition was roused by his sudden and unexpected
elevation, exerted all his energies to thwart the progress of
negotiations, and bitterly complained that the allies were dishonorably
deserting the cause which they had espoused. The emperor dispatched
circular letters to all the courts of Europe, and sent Prince Eugene as
a special ambassador to London, to influence Queen Anne, if possible, to
persevere in the grand alliance. But he was entirely unsuccessful. The
Duke of Marlborough was disgraced, and dismissed from office. The peace
party rendered Eugene so unpopular that he was insulted in the streets
of London. The Austrian party in England was utterly defeated, and a
congress was appointed to meet at Utrecht to settle the terms of peace.
But Charles was now so powerful that he resolved to prosecute the war
even though abandoned by England. He accordingly sent an ambassador to
Utrecht to embarrass the proceedings as much as possible, and, in case
the grand alliance should be broken up, to secure as many powers as
possible in fidelity to Austria.
The States of the Netherlands were still warmly with Austria, as they
dreaded so formidable a power as France directly upon their frontier.
The other minor powers of the alliance were also rather inclined to
remain with Austria. The war continued while the terms of peace were
under discussion. England, however, entered into a private understanding
with France, and the Duke of Ormond, who had succeeded Marlborough,
received secret orders not to take part in any battle or siege. The
developments, upon fields of battle, of this dishonorable arrangement,
caused great indignation on the part of the allies. The British forces
withdrew, and the French armies, taking advantage of the great
embarrassments thus caused, were again gaining the ascendency. Portugal
soon followed the example of England and abandoned the alliance. The
Duke of Savoy was the next to leave. The alliance was evidently
crumbling to pieces, and on the 11th of April, 1713, all the
belligerents, excepting the emperor, signed the treaty of peace. Philip
of Spain also acceded to the same articles.
Charles was very indignant in being thus abandoned; and unduly
estimating his strength, resolved alone, with the resources which the
empire afforded him, to prosecute the war against France and Spain.
Having nothing to fear from a Spanish invasion, he for a time
relinquished his attempts upon Spain, and concentrating his armies upon
the Rhine, prepared for a desperate onset upon France. For two years the
war raged between Austria and France with war's usual vicissitudes of
defeat and victory on either side. It was soon evident that the
combatants were too equally matched for either party to hope to gain any
decisive advantage over the other. On the 7th of September, 1714, France
and Austria agreed to sheathe the sword. The war had raged for fourteen
years, with an expenditure of blood and treasure, and an accumulation of
misery which never can be gauged. Every party had lost fourfold more
than it had gained. "A war," says Marshal Villers, "which had desolated
the greater part of Europe, was concluded almost on the very terms which
might have been procured at the commencement of hostilities."
By this treaty of peace, which was signed at Baden, in Switzerland, the
States of the Netherlands were left in the hands of Austria; and also
the Italian States of Naples, Milan, Mantua and Sardinia. The thunders
of artillery had hardly ceased to reverberate over the marshes of
Holland and along the banks of the Rhine, ere the "blast of war's loud
organ" and the tramp of charging squadrons were heard rising anew from
the distant mountains of Sclavonia. The Turks, in violation of their
treaty of peace, were again on the march, ascending the Danube along its
southern banks, through the defiles of the Sclavonian mountains. In a
motley mass of one hundred and fifty thousand men they had passed
Belgrade, crossed the Save, and were approaching Peterwarden.
Eugene was instantly dispatched with an efficient, compact army,
disciplined by twelve years of warfare, to resist the Moslem invaders.
The hostile battalions met at Karlowitz, but a few miles from
Peterwarden, on the 5th of August, 1716. The tempest blazed with
terrific fury for a few hours, when the Turkish host turned and fled.
Thirty thousand of their number, including the grand vizier who led the
host, were left dead upon the field. In their utter discomfiture they
abandoned two hundred and fifty pieces of heavy artillery, and baggage,
tents and military stores to an immense amount. Fifty Turkish banners
embellished the camp of the victors.
And now Eugene led his triumphant troops, sixty thousand in number, down
the river to lay siege to Belgrade. This fortress, which the labor of
ages had strengthened, was garrisoned by thirty thousand troops, and was
deemed almost impregnable. Eugene invested the place and commenced the
slow and tedious operations of a siege. The sultan immediately
dispatched an army of two hundred thousand men to the relief of his
beleaguered fortress. The Turks, arriving at the scene of action, did
not venture an assault upon their intrenched foes, but intrenched
themselves on heights, outside of the besieging camp, in a semicircle
extending from the Danube to the Save. They thus shut up the besiegers
in the miasmatic marshes which surrounded the city, cut off their
supplies of provisions, and from their advancing batteries threw shot
into the Austrian camp. "A man," said Napoleon, "is not a soldier." The
Turks had two hundred thousand _men_ in their camp, raw recruits. Eugene
had sixty thousand veteran _soldiers_. He decided to drive off the Turks
who annoyed him. It was necessary for him to detach twenty thousand to
hold in check the garrison of Belgrade, who might sally to the relief of
their companions. This left him but forty thousand troops with whom to
assail two hundred thousand strongly intrenched. He did not hesitate in
the undertaking.