However unimportant this siege may look in the “great history,” we
cannot refrain from giving it, as the scene of the “last fight” of one
of the bravest and most esteemed heroes that do honour to our annals.
The army of Charles VII. of France, on the 13th of July, 1452, laid
siege to Castillon, a little city of Perigord, on the Dordogne, ten
leagues from Bordeaux, then in the occupation of the English. Marshals
Lohéac and Jalognes had the conducting of it; Jean Biereau, grand
master of the artillery, commanded seven hundred cannoniers. This
place, surrounded by lines of circumvallation and an intrenched camp,
was brought to bay, when the brave English general Talbot came to its
aid. He at once put to flight a body of free-archers. Seduced by this
easy success, he marched straight to the intrenchments of the French
camp. Its fortifications astonished him, without abating his courage:
he gave the assault. During two hours, he braved all the efforts and
the murderous fire of the French,--at eighty years of age, he fought
with all the ardour of youth: the English gave way; twice he brought
them back to the charge, and twice he was repulsed. A fresh French
corps came up, fell upon the rear-guard of the English, and overwhelmed
it.
In vain Talbot, sword in hand, covered with blood and dust, rode
through the ranks, animating his men by his words and his example.
His war-horse, struck down by a culverin, encumbered him in his fall.
He was on the point of expiring, when his son flew to his assistance.
“Retire!” cried the generous old man, “reserve your young days for a
more useful occasion. I die fighting for my country; live, my son, to
serve it.”
After uttering these words, he expired. His son, the young Lord Lisle,
fell a few minutes after, whilst endeavouring to avenge his death. The
English fled; and Castillon surrendered the next day.
“Thus perished Talbot, whom the English of that day called their
Achilles. He had, it is true, the valour of one: he was not only brave,
but an excellent negotiator, a faithful subject, a sincere friend, and
a generous enemy.”
And this eulogy is written by a Frenchman! So pleased were we with it,
that we abstained from calling in Shakespeare, who has immortalized
this last scene of the gallant Talbot and his son. When will Frenchmen
do equal justice to Nelson and Wellington? When perhaps they have been
dead as long as Talbot has.