Part 51

This unfortunate city, which neither Tilly nor Wallenstein had been able to take by force, at length succumbed to stratagem. The Imperialists had entered into a negotiation with the Magdeburghers, by the intervention of the Hanseatic cities; and they pretended during these conferences not to fire upon the city. The Magdeburghers, at the same time credulous and negligent, slumbered in this apparent security; the citizens who had kept watch upon the ramparts, retired, in great numbers, towards morning, to their own houses. Pappenheim, who directed the siege, and who had advanced his attacks up to the counterscarp of the fosse, perceived this circumstance, and took advantage of it. He made his dispositions one morning, when there were but few people on the ramparts; he gave four assaults at once, and made himself master of them, without meeting with much resistance. At the same time, the Croats, who lay near the Elbe, whose bed was then low, proceeded along it, without departing far from its banks, and took the works on the opposite side. As soon as Tilly was master of the cannons of the rampart, he directed them in such a manner as to sweep the streets, and the numbers of the Imperialists increasing every minute, all the efforts the inhabitants could make became useless. Thus was this city, one of the most ancient and flourishing of Germany, taken when it least expected it, and barbarously given up three consecutive days to pillage. All that the unbridled license of a soldiery can invent when there is no check upon its fury; all that the most ferocious cruelty inspires men with, when blind rage takes possession of their senses, was perpetrated by the Imperialists in this desolated city. The soldiers, in troops, with arms in their hands, rushed tumultuously through the streets, massacring indifferently old men, women, and children, those who attempted to defend themselves, and those who made not the least resistance: the houses were pillaged and sacked, the streets were inundated with blood and covered with dead bodies; nothing was seen but heaps of corpses, some still palpitating, lying in perfect nakedness; the cries of the murdered and the shouts of their murderers mingled in the air, and inspired horror and disgust. In this cruel butchery perished nearly all the citizens: only fourteen hundred were saved. These had shut themselves up in the dome, and obtained their pardon of Tilly. To massacres, very naturally succeeded conflagrations; the flames arose from all parts, and in a few hours, private houses and public edifices only formed one heap of ashes. It seems scarcely credible, but only one hundred and forty houses were left standing of this noble city. Twelve hundred maidens, it is said, drowned themselves to avoid dishonour. All Germany, friends as well as enemies, pitied the fate of this city, and deplored the melancholy extirpation of its inhabitants. The cruelty of the Imperialists created the more horror, from history presenting but few examples of such shocking inhumanity.

TURIN.

A.D. 1706.

Louis XIV. having recalled the duke of Vendôme from Italy, to place him at the head of the troops in Flanders, substituted for him the duke de la Feuillade, the son of the famous marshal who erected a statue to his king in the Place des Victoires. Some few attacks had been already made upon Turin. La Feuillade continued them with an army of forty-six squadrons and a hundred battalions. He hoped to take this city, and, as his reward, looked for a marshal’s baton. The minister Chamillard, his father-in-law, who was very partial to him, spared no means to assure him the victory. “The imagination,” says Voltaire, “is terrified at the preparations for this siege. Readers not accustomed to enter into these matters, will perhaps be glad to find here of what these immense and useless preparations consisted.

“A hundred and forty pieces of cannon were brought up, and it is to be observed that each mounted cannon costs about two thousand crowns.[15] There were a hundred and ten thousand cannon-balls, a hundred and six thousand cartridges of one fashion, and three hundred thousand of another, twenty-one thousand bombs, twenty-seven thousand seven hundred grenades, fifteen thousand sacks of earth, thirty thousand pioneering instruments, and twelve hundred thousand pounds of powder. Add to these munitions lead, iron, and tin, cordage, everything required by miners, such as sulphur, saltpetre, and tools of all kinds. It is certain that the cost of all these preparations for destruction would suffice for the foundation and the prosperity of a numerous colony. Every siege of a great city requires equally enormous expenses, and yet when a ruined village at home stands in need of repair, it is neglected.

“The duke de la Feuillade, full of ardour and activity, more capable than most persons of enterprises which only demand courage, but incapable of such as require skill, thought, and time, pressed on the siege against all rules. The Marshal de Vauban, the only general, perhaps, who loved the state better than himself, had proposed to the duke de la Feuillade to come and direct the siege as an engineer, and to serve in his army as a volunteer; but the haughty De la Feuillade took the offers of Vauban for pride concealed under the mask of modesty. He was weak enough to be piqued because the best engineer in Europe offered to give him advice. He wrote, in a letter which I have seen: ‘I hope to take Turin à la Cohorn.’

“This Cohorn was the Vauban of the allies--a good engineer, a good general, who had more than once taken places fortified by Vauban. After writing such a letter, Turin ought to have been taken. But, having attacked it by the citadel, which was the strongest side, and not having surrounded the whole city, succours and provisions had free entrance. The duke of Savoy could come out when he pleased; and the more impetuosity the duke de la Feuillade exhibited in his reiterated and fruitless attacks, the longer the siege seemed protracted. The duke of Savoy left the city with some troops of cavalry, for the purpose of deceiving De la Feuillade. The latter abandoned the siege to run after the prince, who, being better acquainted with the country, escaped the pursuit. La Feuillade missed the duke of Savoy, and the siege stood still during his absence.

“In the mean time, after the departure of the duke de Vendôme, the duke of Orleans, nephew to the king, came to take the command of the troops of observation. He could not prevent Prince Eugene from joining the duke of Savoy near Asti. This junction compelled him to unite with the duke de la Feuillade, and to enter the camp before Turin. There were but two parts to take; that of waiting for Prince Eugene in the lines of circumvallation, or that of going to meet him while he was still in the neighbourhood of Vegliana. The duke of Orleans called a council of war, composed of Marsin, who lost the battle of Hochstet, La Feuillade, Albergotti, St. Frémont, and other lieutenant-generals. ‘Gentlemen,’ said the prince to them, ‘if we remain in our lines, we shall lose the battle. Our circumvallation is five leagues in extent; we are not able to line all our intrenchments. You see here the regiment of the marine, which is not more than two men’s height: there you may see places entirely unmanned. The Dora, which passes through our camp, will prevent our troops from rendering each other prompt assistance. When Frenchmen wait to be attacked, they lose the greatest of their advantages,--that impetuosity and those first moments of ardour which so often decide the fate of battles. Take my word, we must march to meet the enemy.’ The resolution was agreed to, when Marsin drew from his pocket an order of the king’s, by which it was commanded that, in the event of action being proposed, his opinion was to be deferred to; and his opinion was, that they should remain in the lines. The duke of Orleans saw that he had only been sent to the army as a prince of the blood, and not as a general; and, forced to follow the counsel of the marshal, he made all necessary preparations for the battle, which was fought on the 7th of September.

“The enemy appeared to wish to form several attacks at once. Their movements threw the whole French camp into a state of uncertainty. The duke of Orleans desired one thing; Marsin and Feuillade another: they disputed and argued, but they decided upon nothing. At length they allowed the enemy to cross the Dora. They advanced with eight columns of twenty-five men deep: they must instantly be opposed by battalions equally deep. Albergotti, placed far from the army, upon the mountain of the Capuchins, had with him twenty thousand men, and had in face nothing but some militia, who did not dare attack him. He was asked for twelve thousand men: he replied that he could not spare them, and gave specious reasons for his refusal. He was listened to, and time was lost. Prince Eugene attacked the intrenchments, and, at the end of two hours, forced them. The duke of Orleans, who exposed himself with all the bravery of the heroes of his blood, having received a dangerous wound in the arm, had retired to have it dressed. He was scarcely in the hands of the surgeon, when he was informed that all was lost, that the enemy were masters of the camp, and that the rout was general. Immediate flight was necessary. The lines, the trenches, were abandoned, and the army dispersed. All the baggage, provisions, munitions, and the military chest fell into the hands of the conqueror. Marshal de Marsin, wounded in the thigh, was made prisoner. A surgeon in the service of the duke of Savoy amputated the limb, and he died a few minutes after the operation. The Chevalier Methuen, the English ambassador to the duke of Savoy, the most frank, generous, and brave man his country ever employed in an embassy, had upon all occasions fought at the side of that prince: he saw the Marshal de Marsin taken, and was a witness of his last moments. He told me that Marsin said these very words, ‘At least believe, monsieur, that it was against my advice that we remained in our lines.’ These words appeared to contradict formally what had passed in the council of war; and they were nevertheless true: Marshal de Marsin, on taking leave at Versailles, had represented to the king that the enemy must be met, in case they appeared for the purpose of succouring Turin; but Chamillard, intimidated by preceding defeats, had caused it to be decided that they ought to wait and not offer battle; and this order, given at Versailles, was the cause of sixty thousand men being defeated and dispersed.”

This defeat, which cost nine or ten thousand men killed or made prisoners, was still more fatal to France by its consequences; for it brought on the loss of Modena, Mantua, Milan, Piedmont, and in the end, of the kingdom of Naples.

ARRAS.

A.D. 1654.

Two of the most illustrious generals, not only of France but of the world, were opposed to each other before Arras. The great Condé had allowed party feeling so far to prevail over his sense of duty as to lead him not only to deprive his country of his services, but to turn them against it. It is rather a remarkable fact, that one of the generals of whom France has most to boast, earned his brightest laurels when in arms against her. When his son was desirous of having the history of his father painted in the gallery of Chantilly, he found himself at a loss on account of the above-mentioned circumstance. In order to avoid being quite silent on these subjects, he ordered the muse of history to be portrayed holding a book, upon the back of which was written, _Life of the Prince de Condé_. This muse was tearing leaves from the book and throwing them on the ground, and on the leaves appeared,--“Succour of Cambrai,” “Succour of Valenciennes,” “Retreat from before Arras;” in short, all the great actions of Condé during his sojourn in the Low Countries,--actions which would have been worthy of the highest praise, if the hero who performed them had worn another scarf.

Condé proposed to the Spanish court to besiege Arras, to avenge itself for the siege of Stenay. Arras contained a garrison of little more than two thousand men; the army of the archduke Leopold consisted of thirty-two thousand men, Italians, Lorrains, Flemings, Spaniards, and discontented Frenchmen. Alarmed at this enterprise, Mazarin had recourse to Turenne, and an army of fourteen thousand men was sent under his command to succour Arras. Six hundred determined Frenchmen broke through the enemy’s lines, and threw themselves into the place before the Spaniards had completed their intrenchments. The army of Turenne, too weak to venture to contend with the superior forces of the enemy in an open country, awaited some time at Peronne for the necessary provisions. Turenne’s first object was to starve his enemy, and to occupy a position, the strength of which might render his army respectable. His camp was at first at Monchi-le-Preux, upon a height which commanded a valley, watered on one side by the Scarpe, and on the other by the Cogel. From this point he intercepted the enemy’s communication with Douai, Bouchain, and Valenciennes; the marquis de Beauvais, sent to Bapaume, prevented their receiving anything from Cambrai. Two thousand men, posted towards Lens, intercepted the passage of Lille, whilst Lilleboane, with fifteen hundred men, was to scour the country and block up the roads of Aire and Saint-Omer. The Spanish army, thus inclosed, might have been forced by famine to raise the siege, if it had been possible to stop up the road of Saint-Pol; but that could not be accomplished. The Spaniards opened their trenches on the 14th of July; the besieged defended their ground so completely foot by foot, that they had only lost a single hornwork at the end of a month; still more, they had cost the besiegers two thousand men. Marshal d’Hocquincourt, having entered Stenay, came to reinforce the viscount before Arras. On his route he took Saint-Pol, and carried off a detachment of five hundred men from the abbey of Saint-Eloi. Turenne, who had been to meet him with fifteen squadrons, made on his return a reconnaissance upon all the enemy’s lines to the north: they were of two toises in width, and ten feet in depth; in front was a fosse, nine feet wide and six feet deep. Twelve rows of _trous de loup_, placed chequerwise, were between the intrenchments and the _avant-fossé_; little palisades of a foot and a half high were planted in the intervals of these, to prevent the approach of cavalry. The Spaniards, commanded by the count de Fuensaldagne, occupied the north of these long lines, on the road to Lens; the prince de Condé was on the opposite side with the French. The archduke, with the Germans and the Flemings, extended to the east, from the road of Cambrai to the Scarpe; Don Ferdinand de Solis completed the investment from the west to the south, with Italians and Lorrains. In a second reconnaissance, the marshal went so close to the quarters of Fuensaldagne, that some of his officers represented to him that he would expose himself to an almost certain defeat if the Spaniards availed themselves of the opportunity offered. “Oh! there is nothing to fear,” said Turenne; “they will employ more time in consulting and holding council than it will take me to examine their lines.” He was right: the Spaniards did not put themselves in motion till he was out of sight. Terrified by these formidable lines, none of the French generals dared attempt to succour Arras; Turenne alone maintained that certainly some weak point would be found if they were attacked by night; he often conversed with his officers on the conduct to be observed on entering intrenchments, and upon the means of overcoming all the obstacles that art can oppose to valour. The court were of the opinion of Turenne, and gave orders for an attack on the 24th of August.

The principal effort was to be made against the quarter of Don Ferdinand de Solis, and on the part nearest to that of Fuensaldagne: these points had been considered as the weakest or the most remote from the prince de Condé, whose activity and talents they dreaded, and from the French, whose vivacity and vigilance were likewise formidable. To divert the attention of the enemy and divide their forces, false attacks were to be made at the same time: one on the quarter of the prince de Condé, another upon the most distant part of the camp of Fuensaldagne, and the third upon the lines of the prince of Lorraine. At sunset, the armies crossed the Scarpe upon four bridges, the soldiers being provided with hurdles and fascines. The march was conducted with good order and in profound silence; its precision was such, that the troops arrived exactly at the time appointed for forming a junction with Marshal d’Hocquincourt. Without waiting for him, marshals Turenne and De la Ferté marched directly to the lines, from which they were distant half a league: favoured by a dark night, in which the moon only appeared at intervals, and lighted only by the fires of the matches of the musketeers, they marched till within a hundred paces of their works, without the enemy’s having the least suspicion of the enterprise. Here the report of three cannon gave the alarm, and a row of cresset-lights appeared all along the lines of circumvallation. The Italians were still preparing for fight, when the foot of Turenne’s first line had already passed the _avant-fossé_, covered the _puits_[16] or wells, and pulled up the palisades. Meeting with little resistance, the French easily gained the second fosse, some troops even leaped over it before it was entirely filled up with the fascines. Fiscia, a captain of the regiment of Turenne, planted the colour of his company upon the parapet; so much courage and good fortune were requisite to keep up the spirits of the rest of the troops. In the darkness they were afraid to advance; but at the cry of “Vive Turenne!” all were animated with equal ardour. Five battalions broke in at several points at the same time, and cleared the way for the cavalry. Marshal de la Ferté had not been so fortunate on the quarter of the Spaniards; his soldiers, repulsed, only penetrated the lines by favour of the large gaps made by Turenne’s troops. As for Marshal d’Hocquincourt, arriving towards the end of the night in the midst of the enemy’s consternation, he easily made himself a passage. Forced in almost all directions, the Italians and the Lorrains abandoned their posts, and, flying into the other quarters, carried disorder and terror wherever they went.

At daybreak the prince de Condé, crossing the quarter of the archduke, advised him to retreat. To protect this movement, Condé marched with the cavalry to meet the French, and check their victorious impetuosity. He at first gained a not very difficult advantage over those engaged in pillage, and then beat the Marshal de la Ferté, who had imprudently descended from a height; but he did not dare to pursue him. The marshal had been replaced upon that height by a considerable body of troops. At seeing this, Condé took possession of a neighbouring elevation, to wait for his infantry. His intention was then to attack the column which appeared upon the height. Marshal Turenne had there fortified himself. Some artillery and fresh troops had joined him at this respectable post. Condé led his troops to the attack, but his soldiers were stopped by the fire of Turenne’s cannon: in spite of all his efforts, the prince was obliged to fall back. A sortie of the garrison of Arras made him hasten his retrograde movement the more; Condé and Turenne, in face of each other, divined who their opponent was by his manœuvres. The prudent Turenne did not pursue Condé; the marquis de Bellefonds, not so wise, attacked his rear-guard at the passage of the Scarpe, and was repulsed with loss. Still formidable in the midst of a reverse, Condé left his intrenchments, like a general quitting a camp he is tired of occupying, rallied his scattered troops, and retired to Cambrai, always presenting a bold and redoubtable front to his enemies. His fine retreat, in which he covered the conquered Spaniards, formed a striking contrast with the shameful flight of the archduke and the count de Fuensaldagne, who escaped with a few squadrons through some French baggage-waggons. Turenne lost but few men, but he was wounded; the loss of the Spaniards amounted to three thousand men, sixty-three cannon, two thousand horses, two thousand waggons, and all the equipages of the army. To recompense the eminent services rendered to the Spaniards by the prince de Condé, the king of Spain wrote to him in the following words:--“My cousin, I was told that all was lost, but your highness has saved everything.” The glory of Turenne was at its height; nevertheless a priest, intoxicated with power, dared for a time to rob him of the honours of his triumph: Mazarin caused all the success of this day to be attributed to himself by an infant monarch, whom he led by the hand. At that time people feigned to believe him, but now posterity avenges Turenne, and he enjoys the glory due to him.

Buonaparte had no faith in retreats; he said a general’s only business was to conquer. His error, as a great captain, is proved by his history; he never knew how to retreat, and the consequence was St. Helena. In this siege we behold Condé’s retreat very little inferior in glory to Turenne’s victory.

VERCHERES.

A.D. 1697.

Although this cannot be termed a siege, still, being of the nature of one, and very extraordinary in its circumstances, we cannot resist giving it to our readers.

Mademoiselle de Verchères, little more than fifteen years of age, was walking on the banks of the St. Lawrence, when she heard the hissing of bullets, and beheld a party of Iroquois on the point of surrounding her. She fled at her best speed, and they pursued her; she threw herself into the fort, shut the gates, and gave the alarm. She heard the cries of the terrified women, and fearing they would impede rather than assist the defence, she shut them up in a secure place. A single soldier was on duty in the fort. She flew to join him, put on a hat and a uniform coat, armed herself with a musket, showed herself on the walls, and fired on the Iroquois. She then affected a loud manly voice, pretended to have a numerous troop under her command, and flew from sentry-box to sentry-box, as if to distribute the posts. Warming with her work, the heroine then loaded a cannon, and discharged it herself. This spread terror among the Iroquois; it at the same time warned the garrisons of the neighbouring forts to be on the defensive, and quickly the banks of the river resounded with the roar of artillery.

Thus this young person saved the fort of Verchères, and, perhaps, the whole colony. This courage, hereditary in her family, seemed to be transmitted to the women as well as to the men. Her mother, two years before, had displayed the same intrepidity. The place had been invested by the Iroquois at a time when the garrison was absent. There were only three soldiers, who were all killed. When Madame de Verchères saw the last fall, while defending herself like a brave man, in a redoubt fifty paces from the fort, she armed herself in haste, advanced alone along the covered way, gained the redoubt before the enemy could scale it, fired at them, and at every shot brought down an assailant. They were astonished and terrified, and were on the point of flying before a woman, when the approach of a body of French completed their dispersion.

Thus we see as much courage and presence of mind may be displayed in a siege in which there is only one defender, as if numerous hosts were engaged.

STRALSUND.

A.D. 1713.