Part 30

This city, by its ancient charters, was exempt from the burden of a garrison, and when Louis XII. sent to ask them if they needed troops to defend their city, they made this boastful and silly reply: “Tournai est tourné, et jamais n’a tourné, et encore ne tournera. Si les Anglais viennent, ils trouveront à qui parler”--(Tournay is turned, and never has turned, and, still further, never will turn. If the English come, they will find somebody to speak to). And so the burgesses undertook the defence themselves. But the fate of Terouanne alarmed them, and in a very short time the place was surrendered. Over its gates was engraved this proud motto: “Tu n’as jamais perdu ta virginité.” Never having been taken, it was what is called a maiden city; which honour it now lost. One of our countrymen, who was always anxiously looking out for personal advantages, derived benefit from this capture. The bishop of Tournai was lately dead; and although a new bishop was elected, he was not installed; so the king bestowed the administration of the see upon his favourite, Wolsey, and put him in immediate possession of the revenues.

FOURTH SIEGE, A.D. 1581.

At this date Tournai was besieged by Spanish forces under the command of the prince of Parma. The Seigneur d’Etréel commanded in the city, but his garrison was weak. The citizens, for the most part Protestants, were obliged to perform the duties of soldiers. The Spanish general invested the place, and formed the attack on the side where the ditch is dry, opposite the longest of the curtains, between the gates of St. Martin and of Valenciennes, which was defended by a salient ravelin and a large platform. As soon as the trenches were opened, three batteries were established against these three works. The besieged kept up a warm fire from the tops of the bulwarks, and signalized themselves by some vigorous sorties. The Princess d’Epinoi, the wife of the governor, who filled with distinction the place of her husband, inflamed their ardour, and acquitted herself with incredible energy of all the functions of a most vigilant commander. The prince of Parma made all haste to terminate the approaches, in order to get at the body of the place. It required but few days to carry the trenches to a great length. His batteries played furiously. He debouched in the fosse; it being dry, he carried, without trouble, the mine up to the wall, which, by both sapping and mining was speedily brought down. The defenders of Tournai, redoubling their ardour, opposed fresh barriers to the Spanish impetuosity, and presented themselves wherever the danger was most imminent. At the end of a few days, the breach was found large enough to give an assault. It was given. The resistance and the attack were equally murderous. In the midst of the combatants the Princess d’Epinoi was particularly conspicuous. Nothing could resist the power of her arm. Flying in the face of peril and death, she continued to cry to the soldiers: “It is I; it is the wife of your governor who marches at your head, and braves death for the service of her country. Follow my example. I would rather quit life than the breach!” She spoke, and rushed amidst the carnage. She was wounded in the arm. The sight of her blood only animates her: she redoubles her efforts; all fly, all disperse before her. The besieged, zealous to imitate her, eagerly follow her, and fight with such ardour, that the Spaniards are repulsed and retreat, after having lost a vast number of men. The hopes of prompt succour alone supported the citizens of Tournai; but as soon as they found their expectations frustrated, they perceived it was impossible to defend themselves longer, and resolved to surrender. On the 29th of November, the garrison was permitted to march out, with its arms and its baggage. The city redeemed itself from pillage; and the intrepid Amazon who had so bravely defended it, left Tournai, with her arm still in a scarf, amidst the enthusiastic acclamations of the royal army, and, in some sort, with all the appearance of a glorious triumph.

FIFTH SIEGE, A.D. 1667.

No monarch ever went to war more wantonly and unnecessarily than Louis XIV. Inflated with vanity and self-love, intoxicated with flattery, he seemed to look upon military glory as the only thing wanting to his fame and his happiness. But never did monarch receive a much stronger rebuke from an overruling Providence! He was taught that the prosperity of nations is not to be trifled with for the gratification of one man’s pride; and the wars he undertook so rashly and wickedly proved to be the sources of misery to which his arrogant self-sufficiency would have led him to believe he could not be subjected.

In 1666, Louis XIV. lost his mother, Anne of Austria; Philip IV., her father, had died the preceding year. When Louis married Maria Theresa, that princess had formally renounced all right of succession to Spain or the Austrian dominions; but Louis, now heedless of this renunciation, immediately laid claim to Flanders, to the exclusion of Charles II., the minor son of Philip IV. The pretence he assigned was, that the queen’s dowry not having been paid, her renunciation was null and void, and he invoked a custom of Brabant, by which eldest daughters inherited in preference to younger sons. He supported these claims by a numerous army; won over the emperor Leopold, by giving him hopes he might share the spoils of Charles II., and took the field at the head of his household. Turenne commanded under him; Vauban, and his minister Louvois, accompanied him. We have often, when contemplating this siege of Tournai, wondered what Louis could really think of himself--what he imagined his position actually was in the scale of humanity. He proceeded to the infliction of war upon an unoffending people--of war, the direst evil we know or can fancy,--with all the “pride, pomp, and circumstance” of a barbarous Eastern despot. Darius, when he met Alexander, was scarcely surrounded with so much splendour, and perhaps not so many indulgent comforts, and, what is still more striking, did not in the eyes of his people so completely violate all that the civilized world deems moral or worthy of being an example. He was accompanied by his queen and his then adored mistress, the fascinating Montespan, with whom he lived in a state of double adultery. His court was with him in all its splendour; he had his historian to record the exploits of his generals and his armies, and his poets to sing his praises and attribute every success to his divine presence. Here was a beleaguered town, suffering all the horrors of a siege, with almost the certainty of being taken; there was an army appearing to invade the rights of another nation in mere wantonness, indulging in voluptuous vice, and, in contrast with the town, passing its nights in festivity, song, music, and dancing; vice and cruelty, pleasure and suffering, throwing each other into the strongest relief.

Louis’ army consisted of thirty-five thousand men. It was on this occasion that the minister Louvois introduced the improvement of supporting armies by magazines. Whatever siege the king undertook, to whichever side he directed his arms, supplies of all kinds were ready, the lodgings of the troops were provided, and the marches regulated. The king had only to present himself before the cities of Flanders to subdue them: he entered Charleroi as he would have entered Paris; Bergues-Saint-Veux, Ath, Furnes, Armentière, and Coutrai, opened their gates at the approach of the French battalions. Tournai showed signs of resistance. It was besieged in form, the artillery brought to bear upon it, and two days after the trenches had been opened it capitulated. The citadel was then closely pressed, and that likewise surrendered on the morrow. The conqueror had both city and citadel fortified; and Mégrigni made the latter, of which he was governor, one of the best places in Europe.

SIXTH SIEGE, A.D. 1745.

Louis XV. opened the campaign against the Allies with great spirit. Marshal Saxe laid siege to Tournai, which was defended by a Dutch garrison, and supported by an English army under the duke of Cumberland. De Saxe was so ill as to be obliged to go through his duties in a litter; but he had posted his army admirably. On the 11th of May the Allies commenced the attack, and De Saxe prepared to meet them. The English, Austrians, and Dutch amounted to a number very nearly equal to the French. After a long resultless cannonade, the English advanced to endeavour to carry the village of Fontenoi, in front of De Saxe’s centre, and succeeded so well, that the battle was supposed to be lost, and the king was advised to retreat; but he refused, and the Marshal guaranteed the victory. De Saxe saw the English were ill supported by their allies. After a terrible slaughter by his judiciously-placed artillery, the French cavalry came up, and determined the fate of day. The English left nine thousand men on the field, and Tournai was taken.

SEVENTH SIEGE, A.D. 1794.

At the commencement of the campaign of 1794, General Pichegru made every possible effort to approach Tournai and besiege it in regular form, but all in vain; he, on every occasion, had to contend with troops superior to his own, beneath its walls. When, however, he had gained several victories, and the Imperialists had been conquered at Fleurus, the allies withdrew from Tournai, which fell into the hands of the French. It was not by causing men to be massacred before places that the French made their conquests, but by beating the enemy in the open field. This campaign suffices to convince military men of the vices of the ancient tactics, which began by laying sieges and sacrificed so many men in the trenches. A well-fortified place is impregnable whilst defended by a good army; but there is no fortress that can hold out, when the troops which ought to defend it are beaten. In the revolutionary wars, the French only besieged the cities that were absolutely necessary to assure the position of their armies. The king of Prussia alone formed a just idea of this new manner of making war. In 1794, he wrote to the emperor of Austria: “It is impossible to save your territories from invasion; the French have fresh armies continually springing up; and, do not deceive yourself, their generals have a good kind of tactics, which disconcerts ours and always puts it at fault.” The above passage is certainly from a French author, but it contains much truth.

ORLEANS.

A.D. 451.

Attila, king of the Huns, entered Gaul in 451, with fire and sword, followed by a countless host of barbarians. After spreading everywhere terror, death, and carnage, he appeared before Orleans. The only defence of this city consisted in the valour of its people and the active zeal of Saint-Agnan, its bishop. Before the Huns had crossed the Seine, he hastened to raise the walls on that side, he collected as much provision as possible, flew to Arles to press the Roman general Ætius to succour Orleans, and then shut himself up within its walls, determined to perish with his flock if the Romans did not second their courage. The Huns arrived and attacked the part of the city situated on the right bank of the Loire, with fury. They reiterated their assaults, they multiplied their efforts, whilst Agnan, having employed all human means, was prostrate at the foot of the altar, imploring the All-Powerful. Heaven appeared to listen to his prayers; a tempestuous rain, which lasted three days, interrupted the attacks. When it had ceased, the barbarians recommenced their assaults, broke down the gates, and were already rushing into the city, when the Roman trumpets were heard. Ætius and Theodoric entered Orleans from the other side of the Loire at the same instant that Attila entered by the opposite gate. The Huns, imagining they were conquerors, dispersed themselves in the wild disorder of pillage, through the streets and houses. The barbarians were stopped, surrounded, pursued, and massacred in all directions. In vain Agnan endeavoured to excite pity for these ferocious men; their character was too well known: they gave none; they met with none. Attila, conquered at the moment he thought himself victorious, retired, darting upon the prey which had escaped him, furious but powerless glances of disappointment and rage.

SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 1429.

We come now to an interesting siege, one connected with many stirring associations for both French and English readers. The miserable condition into which France had fallen at the period of the unjust invasion of our Henry V., can scarcely be conceived. An insane king, ambitious grasping princes, bold, poor, and selfish nobles, all conspired to oppress a sunken and degraded people. With us, Henry V. has a false amiability thrown round his character; except in his bravery and shrewd sense, the historical Henry V. has not much resemblance to the heroic, gay, dissipated but good-natured, Hal of Shakespeare. He and his English rendered themselves hateful to the French, whom they treated as a conquered nation. The early death of Henry made matters still worse. His brother Bedford, with Talbot, Salisbury, and other eminent leaders, upheld the English cause in France for many years, and with occasional success; but the one great directing will and power was gone; where there are many, however able they may be, disunions will take place, and even a good cause will fail. For Englishmen who are proud of the valour and ability of their heroes of all ages, the page now before us is a melancholy one to turn over. Better knights never laid lance in rest; wiser and more prudent men never met in council, than some of the leaders in these ill-starred wars; and yet all seem to be striving against fate, and that fate was that their cause was unjust.

At the period of this siege, the two great actors in the late events, Henry V. of England and Charles VI. of France, were dead. Henry’s son was an infant; Charles’s was still worse: the infant was under the good tutelage of his brave and good uncles, whilst Charles’s son, for a long time called only the dauphin, was a weak, dissipated, indolent youth, a willing prey to mistresses and favourites. By the treaty of Troyes, signed by Henry V. and Charles VI., the crown belonged to Henry VI.; but the bulk of the French nation deemed such a compulsory engagement binding upon no one, and all eagerly waited the opportunity for throwing off the odious foreign yoke.

For a long time the council of the king of England, to assist in ruining the party of Charles VII., disinherited, as they said, by the treaty of Troyes, had fixed their eyes upon Orleans; but numberless considerations had retarded the siege of that city. At length, on the 8th of October, 1428, ten thousand English approached to reconnoitre the environs of the place, after having rapidly conquered Château-Neuf, Rambouillet, Bétancourt, Rochefort, and all the neighbouring places. Gaucourt, the governor of the city, made a vigorous sortie, and repulsed the enemy. They went and sacked some more places, and on the 12th of the same month reappeared before Orleans, on the side of the Sologne. The garrison was weak, but it had as leaders intrepid warriors, the Gaucourts, the Dunois, the Lahires, the Xaintrailles, a crowd of noblesse of that name and that merit, who all inspired the lowest soldiers with the heroic valour which animated them. The inhabitants even, resolved to bury themselves under the ruins of their city rather than submit to a foreign yoke, had become so many heroes. The women partook of this martial ardour, and devoted themselves enthusiastically to the service of their country.

The _tête du pont_, on the side of the Sologne, was defended by a fortress called _Les Tourelles_, in front of which a bulwark had been commenced. It was by this intrenchment the earl of Salisbury, the general of the English army, made his first attacks. The faubourgs, set fire to on the approach of the enemy, were not yet entirely consumed. This barrier stopped them at first, but they soon elevated a bastille upon the ruins of the convent of the Augustines, and erected batteries, which kept up a constant discharge against the walls of the city, the Tourelles, and the boulevard, of which they wished to make themselves masters. The cannon made a large breach, and it was resolved to mount it sword in hand. On the 21st of October, the trumpets sounded the signal, and, as if by one motion, the warriors planted their ladders at the foot of the ramparts. They sprang up with incredible intrepidity; but they were received with a firmness equal to it, and both sides fought with the same fury. National hatred and a desire for vengeance added to the natural desire to conquer. Whilst the besieged hurled their foes into the fosses, launched fire-pots, rolled stones of an enormous size upon them, encircled them with rings of red-hot iron, poured torrents of boiling oil, and burning ashes, the women of the city, not less active, in the words of a chronicler, “brought them everything that could assist in the defence; and to refresh their great labour, bread, wine, meats, fruits, and vinegar, with white towels to wipe them. Some were seen, during the assault, repulsing the English with lance-thrusts from the entrance to the boulevard, and beating them down into the fosses.” Such a furious resistance disconcerted Salisbury; he sounded a retreat, and ordered a mine to be instantly commenced. It was soon finished, and they were preparing to spring it. The besieged perceived it, and despairing of maintaining a post threatened on all sides, they set fire to it, in the sight of the English, and retired into the fortress of the Tourelles. To defend this for a short time, they raised a new boulevard on the bridge even, of which they destroyed two arches. Notwithstanding all this, they could not long withstand the multiplied efforts of the English. The fort of the Tourelles was carried, and that advantageous post offered the besiegers a commodious and redoubtable position. The Orléannais then directed all their batteries against that part of their city for which they had so boldly fought. The enemy, on their side, neglected no means to maintain it, and both exhausted, in attack or defence, all the resources the most heroic valour could furnish.

It was then the middle of autumn. Salisbury foreseeing that the siege would be long, resolved to encircle the place with a belt of many forts, which, placed at regular distances, would render the entrance of succours or convoys next to impossible. To draw up his plan according to the situation of the city, he repaired to the Tourelles, from whence a view could be obtained of the whole environs of Orleans. He was earnestly employed on this examination, when a cannon-ball carried away one of his eyes and half of his face. After having exhorted the principal officers to continue the siege according to the plan he had traced for them, he was transported to Meun, where he soon after died. The earl of Suffolk, the lord Pole his brother, Talbot, Glansdale, and other leaders, were clothed with his authority; and these captains, full of respect for their general, continued their operations according to the instructions he had given them.

Every day the besiegers and the besieged received reinforcements. The garrison, which at first scarcely amounted to twelve hundred men, was now composed of three thousand combatants; and the English army, which at the commencement only reckoned ten thousand warriors, was increased to twenty-three thousand soldiers, who thought themselves invincible. The city, which had been attacked on the side of the Sologne alone, was now invested almost entirely on that of the Beauce. Opposite to the principal avenues of Orleans were erected six large bastilles, which communicated with each other by sixty less considerable redoubts, constructed in the intervals. It was impossible to enter the place without passing under the artillery of the forts. More than once the French leaders forced the quarters of the enemy’s army to introduce convoys. The rigour of the season did not at all interrupt the works. Only on Christmas-day the English proposed a suspension of arms, and begged the besieged to send them some musicians, to celebrate that great festival with proper solemnity. The generals made each other presents. The earl of Suffolk sent the bastard of Orleans some refreshments in exchange for a plush robe which he had given him. Up to the beginning of Lent, nothing remarkable took place. Having desolated the country round, the English began to be in want of provisions. In the early part of February, the duke of Bedford sent a convoy, escorted by two thousand five hundred men, under the conduct of the brave Fastolfe. The count de Clermont having collected nearly three thousand soldiers, to whom he added a detachment of the garrison of Orleans, resolved to carry off this convoy. He came up with the English at Rouvray, a village of the Beauce. Fastolfe[9] halted, made an intrenchment of the waggons which contained the provisions, and only left two issues, at one of which he placed his archers. The French army, more courageous than prudent, wished that same night to force this intrenchment, with an impetuosity that has often proved fatal to their countrymen. The French insisted upon fighting on horseback; the Scots would only fight on foot. This deficiency of discipline produced the effect that might have been expected. After an obstinate conflict, the English were conquerors. A hundred and twenty nobles of high rank were left dead upon the field; and the other leaders returned to the city, quite crest-fallen, with scarcely five hundred followers. This battle was called “La journée des harengs,” because the convoy conducted by Fastolfe consisted principally of barrels filled with this fish, which, being broken by the French artillery, their savoury contents were strewed over the field of battle.

In proportion with the triumph of the English in this little battle was the depression of the feeble and voluptuous Charles, then lying encamped at Chinon. Despairing of his fortunes, the timid monarch deliberated whether he had not better seek refuge in Dauphiny. It was his own opinion, and his servile counsellors concurred in it. He was already about to carry this resolution into effect, when two heroines roused the courage of the prince from its effeminate slumbers. The queen, a princess above her sex and her rank, and the fair Agnes[10] Sorel, employed the influence their charms had over him to detain the king, who could but blush to think he had less magnanimity than his wife or his mistress.

In the mean time Orleans seemed daily sinking into the last extremity. The besieged could no longer look for relief to a prince who was in no condition to assist them, and who, indeed, scarcely preserved a shadow of royalty. There only remained one chance of saving the city, and that was to place it in sequestration in the hands of the duke of Burgundy. The envoys, among whom was Xaintrailles, went at once to the duke, who agreed to the proposal, and came with them to Paris, with the design of persuading the duke of Bedford to accept it. But the regent replied that he would only treat with the city upon the condition of its surrender to the English. This intelligence roused the indignation and revived the courage of the Orléannais; they resolved to defend themselves to the last breath.