Chapter XII: Part 12

The Pope’s legate, by his presence, approved of a proceeding at once so extraordinary and so laughable; but one of these new soldiers, who was no doubt ignorant that his arquebuss was loaded with ball, wishing to salute the legate in his carriage, fired into it, and killed his almoner. The legate, in consequence of this accident, made as speedy a retreat as possible; but the people exclaimed that it was a great blessing for the almoner to be killed in such a holy cause. Such was the frightful persuasion of this populace, whom impunity had rendered formidable. They believed themselves invincible under the orders of the duke de Nemours, a skilful, courageous, and prudent general, whom the duke de Mayenne, his brother, had left in Paris during his absence; they were backed by three or four thousand good troops, and by several nobles of high courage. They every day skirmished against the royal army, or fought small battles; the Chevalier d’Aumale, of the blood of Lorraine, being always at the head of their sorties, and imparting his impetuous valour to his followers. Henry IV. satisfied himself with repulsing these attacks, convinced that famine would soon open the gates of the capital to him.

In fact, this terrible scourge began to make rapid progress; there was neither wheat, barley, nor oats left; more than fifty thousand persons had already died of want; the sad remains of this numerous population, nobles, plebeians, rich or poor, languidly crawled through the streets to seek for and devour the grass and weeds that grew in them. Mules, horses, cats, dogs, all the domestic animals,--even beasts that are reckoned unclean,--served for food. The leather of shoes was sold for its weight in gold; it was boiled and devoured in secret, for fear some wretch, stronger and more hungry, should tear it from the mouth of the purchaser. Mothers were seen feeding upon the flesh of their children, and miserable beings flew like vultures upon a newly-dead body that had fallen in the streets. The Spanish ambassador to the League advised that bread should be made of the ground bones of the dead, and his plan was eagerly adopted; but this shocking aliment cost the lives of most of those who partook of it. In this general desolation, the priests and monks enjoyed the comforts of abundance; on visiting their abodes, there was generally enough for the present discovered, and, in many instances, a good provision for the future. At length the leaders of the League, to appease the people, who now never ceased crying, “Bread or peace!” charged the bishop of Paris and the archbishop of Lyons with proposals to the king. “I am no dissembler,” said the monarch, “I speak plainly and without deceit what I think. I should be wrong if I told you I did not wish for a general peace; I do wish for it, I ardently desire it, that I may have the power of enlarging and settling the limits of my kingdom. For a battle I would give a finger, for a general peace I would give two. I love my city of Paris; it is my eldest daughter; I am jealous of her. I am anxious to confer upon her more good, more kindness, more pity than she could ask of me; but I desire that she should owe them to me and to my clemency, and not to the duke de Mayenne or the king of Spain. When you ask me to defer the capitulation and surrender of Paris till a universal peace, which cannot take place till after many journeys, backwards and forwards, you ask for a thing highly prejudicial to my city of Paris, which cannot wait so long. So many persons have already died of hunger, that if a further delay of ten or twelve days took place, vast numbers must die, which would be a great pity (_une éstrange pitié_). I am the father of my people, and I am like the mother of old before Solomon, I would almost prefer having no Paris at all to having it ruined and dissipated by the death of so many Parisians. You, Monsieur le Cardinal, ought to have pity on them; they are your flock. I am not a remarkably good theologian; but I know enough of divinity to be able to tell you that God is not pleased that you should treat thus the poor people he has consigned to you. How can you hope to convert me to your religion, if you set so little store by the safety and lives of your flock? It is giving me but a poor proof of your holiness; I am but little edified by it.”

Of all the monarchs that ever lived, we like to hear Henry IV. of France speak. His words come forth with that unstudied frankness which proves that they flow from a manly heart and a right mind. He had his faults--what human creature has not? but neither the annals of France nor England describe a king with whom we would rather have sat in council; have followed his white _panache_ in the battle-field; have crossed the hand of friendship, or chatted in a lady’s bower, than with the good, valiant, and witty Béarnais. We verily think that delightful word of the French language, _bonhomie_, was coined to express the character of Henry IV.

“Such,” says the historian, “were the words and sentiments of this generous prince; the evils which oppressed his people penetrated his compassionate and tender heart. He could not endure the idea,” says Sully, “of seeing that city, of which Providence had destined him the empire, become one vast cemetery; he held out his hands to all he could secretly assist, and shut his eyes upon the supplies of provisions which his officers and soldiers frequently stole in, whether out of compassion for relations or friends, or for the sake of the heavy prices they made the citizens pay for them.”

He could have carried Paris by the sword; and his soldiers, the Huguenots in particular, demanded that favour of him with loud cries; but he resisted all their entreaties. The duke de Nemours having turned out a vast number of useless mouths, the council advised the king to refuse them a passage. Henry, deeply affected by their melancholy fate, gave orders to let them go where they liked.

“I am not astonished,” said he, “that the chiefs of the League, or the Spaniards, should have so little compassion on these poor people, they are but their tyrants; but as for me, I am their father and their king, and I cannot behold them without being moved to my inward heart.” But he was deceived, if he thought these kindnesses would make any impression upon the Parisians. They availed themselves of his benevolence, without ceasing to regard him as the author of all the public calamities; and when, a short time after, the prince of Parma and the duke de Mayenne, at the head of an army, obliged him to pause in his enterprise, they insulted him who had only raised the siege because he was too sensible to the misfortunes of the besieged.

Paris persisted in its revolt to the month of March, 1594; when the duke de Brissac, who had joined the League because Henry III. had told him that he was good for nothing, either by land or sea, negotiated with Henry IV. and opened the gates of Paris to him, for the reward of the baton of a marshal of France. Henry IV. made his _entrée_, which only cost the lives of a small body of lansquenets, and of two or three citizens, who endeavoured to induce the people to take up arms against a king who was willing to treat them as a father.

Of the policy or propriety of Henry’s changing his religion, to insure the peaceful possession of his throne, it is not our province to speak.

When Brissac had thrown open the gates, Henry’s troops marched in in silence, keeping close and careful order, and took possession of the squares, public places, and great thoroughfares. After the prévôt des marchands and De Brissac had presented the keys to him, he advanced at the head of a large troop of the nobility, with lances lowered: his march was a triumph, and, from that day, he considered himself among the Parisians, as in the midst of his children. “Let them alone!” cried he, to those who wished to drive back the crowd; “let them alone! they want to see a king.” His clemency extended to all classes, even to his worst enemies, the fanatical preachers. The Spanish garrison quitted Paris the day of his _entrée_, with the honours of war; Philip’s ministers departing with them. The king placed himself at a window to see them pass, and when they were at a distance, he laughingly cried to them: “Make my compliments to your master, gentlemen, but don’t come back any more.” He received the Bastille by capitulation, welcomed the repentant and submissive Sorbonne, and joined to the parliament of Paris the magistrates of the parliament he had established at Châlons and Tours.

The ridiculous yet bloody war of the Fronde, though it maddened and for a time half-starved the Parisians, and although its two parties were headed by a Condé and a Turenne, does not furnish us with a regular siege.

SEVENTH SIEGE, A.D. 1814.

When the inordinate ambition of Buonaparte, and, still more, his misfortunes in Russia, had banded all Europe against him, Paris may be said to have again experienced a short siege.

When Napoleon opened the campaign on the 25th of January, he confided the command of the capital to his brother Joseph. His enemies were numerous and powerful. The English advanced on the south; a hundred and fifty thousand men, under Schwartzenberg, poured into France by way of Switzerland; a large army of Prussians, commanded by Blucher, arrived from Frankfort; and a hundred thousand Swedes and Germans penetrated into Belgium, under Bernadotte. Here was work cut out for even the genius of a Hannibal; and Buonaparte seemed to be duly roused by the perils which surrounded him. He redoubled his activity and energy, and never had his strategic calculations been more skilful. He was near destroying the two most formidable armies of his enemies by isolating them, and attacking them by turns. But Buonaparte’s successes became fatal to him, by inspiring him with too much confidence: he would not listen to the proposals of the allies for France to return within her ancient limits, and revoked the powers he had given to the duke of Vicenza to conclude a peace at Châtillon. Wherever he did not command in person, the allies triumphed: the English entered Bordeaux, which declared for the Bourbons; the Austrians occupied Lyons; and the united armies marched towards Paris. Napoleon then subscribed to the demands of the Congress; but it was too late: the conferences were broken up. Joseph received orders to defend Paris to the last extremity; the emperor depended upon him, and conceived the almost wildly brave project of cutting off the retreat of the allies, by marching rapidly behind them to St. Dizier. By this march he lost precious time; but by it, if he had been seconded, Napoleon might have saved his crown. The two grand armies of the allies had effected their junction, and drew near to the capital. To secure the success of the emperor’s manœuvres, it ought to have been defended till his arrival; but timid councillors surrounded the regent, Maria Louisa, and persuaded her to retire to the Loire. In vain Talleyrand and Montalivet expressed a courageous opinion, and represented to the empress that the safety of France was in Paris: fear alone was listened to; Maria Louisa quitted the capital, and transported the regency to Blois. In the mean time Napoleon approached Paris by forced marches; but it was no longer time: Marshals Marmont and Mortier, on the 30th of March, fought a desperate battle under the walls of the city with forces very inferior to the allies. Ignorant of the emperor’s proximity, Joseph gave orders for a capitulation; he abandoned his post, and set out for Orléans. On the 31st of March, the allies entered Paris. Napoleon was hastening to the defence of his capital, when, on the 1st of April, he received this terrible news; he immediately fell back upon Fontainebleau, where his army took up a position. There he learnt that the senate, till that time guilty of so much servility and adulation towards him, had proclaimed him a tyrant, and that, guided by Talleyrand, it had declared Napoleon deposed from the throne, the hereditary right of his family abolished, and the French people and the army liberated from their oath of fidelity to him.

The capitulation of 1814, and the celebrated day of the Barricades, July, 1830, do not come under the head of sieges.

RIMINI.

A.C. 49.

Cæsar, forgetting his virtues in order to sacrifice everything to his ambition, prepared to march against his country. But this was not done without a mental struggle. When he arrived on the banks of the Rubicon, he was a prey to a thousand conflicting thoughts; he stopped all at once, and turning to his friends, said: “We have it still in our power to retract; but if we cross this rivulet, the enterprise must be carried out by force of arms.” According to Suetonius, there appeared at that moment a man of extraordinary height, playing upon a rustic flute, and the soldiers flocked round him to listen to him. This wonderful man, seizing a trumpet, applied it to his mouth, and sounding a charge, crossed the river. This was most likely a _ruse_ of Cæsar’s to encourage his troops; be that as it may, he immediately cried out,--“Forward! let us go whither the voice of the gods and the injustice of our enemies call us;--the die is cast!” And he crossed the Rubicon. The short siege and the capture of Rimini were the consequences of this determination, followed by the civil war between Cæsar and Pompey, which annihilated the liberties of Rome.

SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 538.

Vitiges, king of the Ostrogoths, appeared before Rimini, and laid siege to it. He brought towards the walls an enormous tower, at the top of which was a large drawbridge, to be let down when within reach of the parapets. The inhabitants were in a terrible fright; but the commander rendered the tower useless by having the ditch widened during the night; and by a spirited and unexpected attack upon the enemy’s camp, he raised as much dread among them as the machine had created in Rimini. Some of the bravest of the Goths fell in this sortie, and their leader turned the siege into a blockade. The arrival of Belisarius compelled him to abandon the enterprise altogether.

MARSEILLES.

A.C. 49.

The inhabitants of Marseilles being under great obligations to Pompey, were not willing to open their gates to Cæsar. Irritated by this affront, Cæsar laid siege to their city. It was long, because that great general did not at first conduct it in person; but as soon as he presented himself before the place, it surrendered. The conqueror was satisfied with disarming the citizens, and ordering them to bring to him all the money in the public treasury.

SECOND SIEGE, A.C. 310.

Notwithstanding his repeated abdications, Maximian Hercules was again anxious for power, and, for the third time, to remount the throne of the Cæsars. In order to engage the Gauls to declare in his favour, he caused a report of the death of Constantine to be circulated. This report had not time to be accredited, for Constantine, at the head of a numerous army, presented himself before Marseilles, into which place Maximian had retired. He at once led on an assault, and would have taken the city if his ladders had not proved too short. Several soldiers, however, succeeded in gaining the top of the walls, but the emperor, to spare the blood of the troops and of the inhabitants, sounded a retreat. Maximian appeared upon the walls; Constantine drew near to them, and represented to the ex-emperor the injustice and futility of his proceedings. Whilst the old man was pouring forth invectives, some of the inhabitants, unknown to him, opened one of the gates, and admitted the soldiers of Constantine. They seized Maximian, led him before the emperor, and terminated this short and foolish war.

THIRD SIEGE, A.D. 1544.

The constable De Bourbon, wishing by his services to merit the favour of Charles V., to whom that perfidious prince had sold himself, undertook the siege of Marseilles. “Three cannon-shot,” said he, “will so astonish the good citizens, that they will come with halters round their necks to present me the keys.” But, far from surrendering, the Marseillese swore to defend themselves to the last extremity. The women took part in the most painful labours of the defence; their ardour was so great, that the countermines which they dug on the side of the attack were called, to perpetuate the memory of the fact, “The Ladies’ Trench.” A cannon-ball, fired from the city, killed two gentlemen, and a priest who was celebrating mass. The constable De Bourbon, attracted by the noise created by this accident, hastened to the spot, and asked what was the cause of the tumult. The marquis de Pescaira, his rival, coolly replied,--“It is only the consuls of Marseilles, Monsieur, who have brought us the keys.” Bourbon well deserved this raillery, for they had already been forty days before a place which he had boasted would surrender as soon as he appeared. Rendered furious by the cannon-ball and the joke, he gave orders for the fire of the artillery to be doubled, and soon a breach was made sufficient for an assault. The engineers who were sent to reconnoitre reported that there was behind it a deep ditch, filled with combustibles, and defended by a great number of soldiers. Pescaira gave a description of it to the council of war, and added, maliciously,--“You see, gentlemen, that the Marseillese keep a well-spread table, in order to entertain properly all who have any desire to visit them; if you have any inclination to sup in Paradise, go there, in heaven’s name; but, for my part, I don’t feel disposed to go thither yet. We should do much better, I think, to return to Italy, where the French may be before us.” The hatred in which the constable De Bourbon was held caused this advice to be approved of. Francis I. came to the relief of the city with an army of forty thousand men. Instructed in the school of misfortune, he obstinately refused to give the Imperialists battle, and contented himself with depriving them of all means of subsistence. His army destroyed all the mills: that of D’Aubagne was the only one left. Francis I. was convinced that the retreat of his enemy was inevitable if this mill were destroyed, and he ordered Barbesieux, who commanded in Marseilles, to undertake it. This general thought the thing impossible, because the post was so well guarded and so near to the Imperialists. Montluc, young, enterprising, and full of resources, thought that, with courage, secrecy, and diligence, it was possible to succeed. Barbesieux laughed at what he called a fanfaronnade; but as it was only at the risk of a hundred and twenty men, he gave his consent. Everything succeeded; the mill was forced and destroyed; and the detachment came off unhurt. This little expedition had a singular influence over the fate of Marseilles. Deprived of provisions, the Imperialists quickly retired, and the constable had the double disgrace of failing against a place whilst fighting against his prince and his country.

ALEXANDRIA.

A.C. 46.

The conqueror of Darius, wishing to raise a monument to his own glory, resolved to build a new city in Egypt, which should become the centre of the commerce of the world, and the capital of his vast empire. He named it Alexandria. This was likewise part of the wise policy of Alexander; either he, or some of the sages who attended him, were excellent judges of situation for a city, and he preferred leaving such a monument behind him to any other. He laid the foundation of, if he did not build, many cities in the course of his conquests; and this was not the only one called Alexandria. The happily-selected situation of this city, not far from the Mediterranean and the Nile, in the centre of Egypt, then renowned for its commercial relations with India and the oriental coasts of Africa, soon rendered it worthy of its high destiny. Under Ptolemy, son of Lagus, one of his lieutenants, who had become his successor in the kingdom of Egypt, Alexandria soon astonished the world by its population and its riches. The Romans, extending their conquests, became first the protectors, then the masters of Egypt. Antiochus, king of Syria, wished to oppress the children of Ptolemy Philopater, and to take possession of Egypt; the Roman people, offended at this proceeding, sent Popilius Lænus to summon the king of Syria to immediately evacuate the states of a king, their ally. He came up with Antiochus as he was besieging Alexandria, and ordered him to evacuate Egypt immediately. As soon as he saw the Roman ambassador, Antiochus saluted him with much respect, but made no direct reply to his demand. Popilius went straight up to him, and tracing a circle around the king in the sand, “Prince,” said he, “I must have an answer to the will of the Roman people before you leave that circle.” Astonished at this noble pride, Antiochus replied that he was ready to obey. Thus Egypt was delivered from war. Respect for the Roman name alone gave it, for this once, peace, and preserved it its sovereigns.

After having defeated Pompey, Cæsar entered Alexandria, to endeavour to regulate the affairs of Egypt, then embroiled by the ambition of Cleopatra. During his abode there, Achilles, minister of King Ptolemy, disgusted at his proceedings, raised an army of twenty thousand disciplined Egyptian troops, and offered battle to the great dictator. Cæsar had only three thousand foot and eight thousand horse. Without giving a moment’s consideration to his weakness, and relying entirely on his constant good fortune, he made a sortie from Alexandria, where the Egyptians besieged him, and drove them to a distance from the walls. He fought several battles with the same results, but, weakened in the end by his own successes,--for, though victorious, he in each conflict necessarily lost some men,--he ceased to be the conqueror. It was in the course of this war that the celebrated Alexandrian library was burnt, the collecting of which had been the work of many kings, and consisted of more than four hundred thousand volumes. It was likewise after a contest in which he had been worsted, that he had to swim for his life, which he did with one hand, holding, it is said, his “Commentaries” in the other. Cæsar did not escape the fascinations of Cleopatra: as she did by all who came within the circle of her machinations, she made him subservient to her ambitious views: she had one son by him, named Cæsarion, afterwards sacrificed to the jealousy of Augustus. After passing through many dangers, he received succour, and was triumphant; he defeated the Egyptians, under their king Ptolemy Bacchus, who drowned himself in the Nile.

SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 260.

Under Gallus, Alexandria, whose population amounted to three hundred thousand freemen, and as many slaves, became the theatre of a frightful civil war, which lasted twelve years. All communication was cut off between the different parts of that unfortunate city; every street was inundated with blood; the major part of the better sort of houses were converted into citadels, and these horrible disorders were not appeased till after most of the inhabitants had perished by the sword, pestilence, or famine.

THIRD SIEGE, A.D. 611.

Chosroës, eleventh king of Persia, after having conquered Syria, Palestine, and the greater part of Asia, attacked Egypt, surprised Pelusium, and advanced as far as Alexandria without obstacle. The city might certainly have been supported by its fleet, but the archbishop and prefect had employed all the vessels in carrying themselves and their enormous wealth to a place of safety in the isle of Cyprus. Chosroës entered this second city of the Greek empire in triumph, and found in it almost incalculable riches. Heraclius sued for peace, which Chosroës granted, but only with a view of preparing for a fresh war. This recommenced in 627. The haughty Chosroës was conquered; his own son caused him to be killed, and restored to the emperor Heraclius all his father’s conquests. Thus Egypt returned, but for a very short time, under the Roman domination.

FOURTH SIEGE, A.D. 640.

Mahomet, who was destined to subdue, by his arms and his religion, half the globe as then known, had made himself master of Arabia. His successors thought it their duty to extend his opinions and his conquests. Amrou, the lieutenant of the caliph Omar, took possession of Palestine, and entered Egypt. He employed thirty days in the siege of Pelusium, and then advanced to the ruins of Heliopolis. Thence he proceeded to ancient Memphis, called the Widow of her Kings, after she was eclipsed by her rival Alexandria: her palaces and temples were sinking into ruins. The two banks of the Nile, here three thousand feet wide, were united by two bridges of sixty-three boats, connected by the little isle of Honda, standing in the middle of the river, and covered with gardens and delightful habitations. At the eastern extremity of the bridge was the city of Babylon, and the camp of a Roman legion defended the passage of the river and the second city of Egypt. Amrou laid siege to this fortress, which might be considered as a part of Memphis. After a siege of seven months, the place was carried by assault. The Greeks, on retiring from Upper Egypt, occupied all the important places of the Delta, but were driven out of them in twenty-two days by Amrou. At length Amrou commenced the siege of Alexandria. This first commercial city in the world was abundantly supplied with all the means of defence and subsistence: the sea was always open to it. If Heraclius could have been roused from his lethargy, considerable reinforcements might have been sent to support the besieged. Alexandria itself furnished excellent means of defence; the two great sides of the long square which it forms being covered by the sea and the lake Mareotis, the fronts of attack were narrow, and easily defended. Amrou, however, never ceased to excite the courage of the besiegers by sending them fresh reinforcements daily. The Egyptians at the same time, tired of the domination of the Greeks, and believing they should be better treated by new masters, devoted themselves to the service of Amrou. The Saracens fought like lions. In every conflict the scimitar and the banner of Amrou were in the first rank; he made all the reconnaissances of the place with his own eyes, and planned all the attacks. Approaching one day, accompanied only by a single slave and one of his principal officers, too near the walls, he was taken prisoner, and conducted to the presence of the prefect of Egypt. This magistrate, on examining his haughty countenance and hearing his audacious language, at first entertained a suspicion, which became a certainty, that it was Amrou he had fortunately become possessed of, and ordered him to be beheaded. This order was about to be executed, when the slave, who understood Greek, gave him a box on the ear, and told him that he, one of the meanest of Mussulmans, ought to know how to behave more respectfully to his superiors. This extraordinary act of presence of mind saved the life of Amrou. The Turkish officer, taking his cue from the slave, then said that they were sent by their general to demand an interview, and that if it could be granted the next day, and the Romans would make any reasonable proposals, he had no doubt peace might be brought about. The governor was the dupe of this story. The prefect, being now persuaded that Amrou was no more than a simple soldier, revoked his order, and sent back the Mussulmans, who had come, he believed, with pacific dispositions. The Romans were soon made aware of their folly by the cries of joy of the Mussulmans at the safe return of their brave general. Instead of coming to the peaceful appointment next day, Amrou appeared with all his troops at the foot of the wall, and commenced the labours of the siege. Heraclius then sent him an ambassador, to prevail upon him to leave Egypt, upon very advantageous conditions. Amrou, who was superintending the construction of machines to batter the great tower, surveyed the envoy with surprise and contempt. After listening to him in profound silence, “Dost thou see,” said he, “that column which stands before us? We will leave Egypt when thou hast swallowed it.” On the instant he commanded an attack upon the tower, and his soldiers entered it, in spite of the brave resistance of the Romans. The governor, however, sent up such strong reinforcements, that the Mussulmans were driven for the time from the tower they were so anxious to obtain. During fourteen months, every day was marked by combats or attacks upon the intrenchments. At length Amrou gave a general assault, and his troops responded so well to his expectations and generalship, that the Christians were beaten in all quarters, and abandoned the place. The Turks lost twenty-five thousand men before Alexandria. At the moment of their entry into the city, the inhabitants, to escape their barbarities, endeavoured to gain their vessels and get out to sea. Amrou pursued them, leaving only troops enough in Alexandria for a common guard. Informed of this circumstance, the Romans re-entered the port, surprised the city, and massacred the Mussulmans. On learning this, Amrou returned, found the Romans masters of the citadel, attacked them, and forced them, after a sanguinary conflict. Such as escaped death then abandoned to its barbarous conquerors this powerful city, the magazine of Constantinople, which it fed, and the centre of the commerce of the East with Europe. Egypt submitted to the conqueror. “I have taken,” said Amrou, in his despatch to the caliph, “the great city of the West; it is impossible for me to describe to you all its riches, all its magnificence; I shall content myself with telling you that it contains four thousand palaces, four thousand baths, four hundred theatres, twelve thousand shops for vegetables and fruits, and forty thousand tributary Jews. The city was taken by force, without either treaty or capitulation, and the Mussulmans are impatient to gather the fruits of their victories.” The commander of the faithful rejected with firmness all ideas of pillage, and ordered his lieutenant to preserve Alexandria and its wealth for the use and propagation of Islamism. Amrou asked him if he must equally respect the famous library of Serapeon, containing more than five hundred thousand volumes, the only archives of the learning of the ancient Egyptians, and of the progress of human knowledge up to the invasion of the Mussulmans. To this the caliph replied: “Either that which the books of which thou speakest contain, agrees with the Koran, or it does not agree. If it agrees with it, the Koran suffices; if it does not agree, they are pernicious: burn them.” Amrou obeyed with regret. During six months the fragments of these books served to heat the baths of Alexandria. This irreparable loss deprived the human race of a mass of useful knowledge, dried up an abundant source of improvement, and contributed greatly to the spreading of the darkness and ignorance in which Europe was plunged for six hundred years.

FIFTH SIEGE, A.C. 645.

Alexandria was tranquil under the government of its conqueror, but after the death of Omar, Amrou was recalled. The Greek emperors feeling keenly the loss of Egypt, took advantage of this circumstance to make a descent upon its coasts. At the sight of their ancient compatriots, the Alexandrians rose, took up arms, drove out the infidels, and opened their gates to the Greeks. Amrou, being informed of this revolt, returned from Libya, chastised Alexandria, and drove the Christians from its walls. Persuaded that such an example would be sufficient to restrain the Egyptians, he again set out for Tripoli; but the Greeks returned once more, and took possession of the port and the city of Alexandria. Amrou, exceedingly irritated, came back; but he had sworn, this time, to dismantle this indocile city. He kept his word; he protected the Alexandrians as much as he could from the fury of the soldiery; but he razed the walls, diminished its extent, and left the inhabitants to exist amidst the ruins of their country.

SIXTH SIEGE, A.D. 1171.

Egypt belonged for three centuries to the Fatimite caliphs; but this race degenerated: divided among themselves for the possession of power, one of its two branches had the imprudence to call in the sultan of Damascus to its aid. After several battles, the latter was the conqueror, but he kept his conquest for himself. Saladin, his son, became, in 1171, sultan of Egypt. The descendants of this great man were, in their turn, displaced by the Mamelukes and their beys, a singular kind of militia, continually recruited by slaves from Mount Caucasus; themselves choosing their sultans, as the prætorian guards had done, and, like them, disposing of power. Egypt was conquered by the Ottomans. Selim I. contented himself with weakening, for the time, the influence of the Mamelukes; but, always ambitious, they resumed, by degrees, their authority under his weak successors, and only left the Ottoman Porte a shadow of power in the provinces over which they tyrannized.

SEVENTH SIEGE, A.D. 1799.

Buonaparte, imitating Alexander, with a view of clearing a passage from Egypt to the possession of India, embarked with a large force, and after having treacherously obtained Malta, appeared off Alexandria. It is rather a singular circumstance, that more than a century before this expedition took place, Leibnitz, a German philosopher, addressed a long and interesting document to Louis XIV., pointing out to him the great advantages that would result to France from the conquest of Egypt. This document was still in existence, and it is believed that it assisted in inducing Buonaparte to leave his European conquests and achieve something extraordinary in the East. His career in Egypt was successful, and, among other places, he took Alexandria, our present subject; but there was nothing in the details of the short siege of it interesting enough to stop us. Nelson’s defeat of his fleet, and his check by Sir Sidney Smith, at Acre, sent the great conqueror of the age back again to his country, with a far smaller crop of laurels than he had anticipated.

LYONS.

A.D. 197.

Albinus, a Roman general, revolted against the emperor Severus, and encamped his rebel troops near Lyons. The emperor marched against him, and the battle commenced the instant the armies came in sight of each other. The conflict was terrible, but Albinus was conquered, and forced to take refuge in Lyons. The conquerors followed him thither, and plundered and ravaged the city. Albinus, finding all was lost, plunged his sword into his own body; but as he was not dead when the adverse party took Lyons, they enjoyed the savage satisfaction of cutting off the head of a man who could not have lived an hour.

SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 1793.

The majority of the Lyonnais had witnessed the revolution of the 10th of August with great regret. Devoted to commerce and the arts, Lyons must necessarily have preferred a stable and tranquil government to the storms of a revolution. Political agitations, the emigration of the nobles, the proscriptions of the rich, were at every instant drying up the springs of its commerce, paralyzing its industry, and deteriorating the products of its manufactures. When private interests were thus injured, it could not be expected that the Lyonnais should feel much revolutionary ardour; they were certain to follow the ideas of the most moderate party. The Convention was recognised, the Republic proclaimed; but the rich trembled at the opening of the clubs; they were terrified at seeing municipal powers pass into the hands of proletaires; their minds revolted at hearing propositions for murder and carnage, the reward of their generosity in paying a loan of many millions. Their horror for the men who oppressed them was soon displaced by a desire for vengeance. Two parties declared themselves in Lyons: that of the Municipals, supported by the _Montagne_; and that of the Sections, composed of pure republicans and disguised royalists. Both sides assembled, and both spoke of preparations for defence and of measures for attack. Each party designated its enemies, watched its partisans, exaggerated its injuries and causes of alarm; minds were heated, and hearts divided. People became accustomed to consider as irreconcilable enemies all who did not embrace the opinions of the party they had espoused. The storm, which had been growling for a length of time, burst forth on the 29th of May, 1793. Two commissioners from the Convention were sitting with Châlier at the municipality; they had made a place of arms of it. On their side, the Sectionaries had gathered together all their columns. There were three attempts at accommodation, but they all failed through the perfidy of Châlier. A battalion of the Lyonnais approached the municipality, sent for under the pretence of conciliation. The signal for carnage was given; Châlier ordered a discharge of artillery and musketry. The unfortunate Lyonnais were obliged to abandon the bodies of their friends; the whole city was in arms. Two columns left the Place de Bellecourt, and besieged the Hôtel de Ville, defended by eighteen hundred men and two pieces of cannon; the besiegers did not amount to two thousand. The combat lasted two hours; the Hôtel de Ville was carried. The Lyonnais had in their power the men who appeared to have meditated their ruin. There was still more carnage after the victory; the soldiers were obliged to defend their prisoners against the fury of the people. Among them were the two commissioners from the Convention; but liberty was soon restored to them, on condition of their giving an honest account of the provocations which had brought on the combat. These representatives, four days after, notwithstanding a favourable account had been given, described the Lyonnais to the Convention as rebels, and demanded vengeance for the national representation having been unacknowledged, degraded, and insulted in their persons. In the mean time, the Lyonnais had chosen fresh magistrates, and these had created a commission to try the prisoners made in the contest on the 29th of May. Châlier was condemned to death; the rest were spared, and kept as hostages. The Lyonnais endeavoured at this moment to prove their love for their country, by concurring with all their power for the defence of the frontiers. Kellermann, the general of the army of the Alps, demanded of this city some pieces of artillery and articles of provisions. Although threatened with a siege, the Lyonnais were moved by the wants of the very soldiers who were soon to be employed against them. Kellermann was so affected by such kindness, that he became their constant intercessor, but one that was never listened to. Two untoward events then happened which accelerated the misfortunes of the Lyonnais. The moderate party had been crushed in the Convention by the 31st of May. Marseilles sent an army to the succour of Lyons, on the very day when treachery, conducted with great art, had given Toulon up to the English. It was feared, for a moment, that the whole south of France would detach itself from the north, and that Lyons would make common cause with Marseilles and Toulon, and all give themselves up to foreigners. Kellermann despatched Carteau against the Marseillais, with a body of troops very inferior in numbers to theirs, but which was to be recruited _en route_, with the national guards and the volunteers of the country. Carteau followed the left bank of the Rhône, secured the bridge of St. Esprit and Avignon, met the Marseillais army at Salon, and afterwards at Septêmes, where he entirely defeated them. The succours expected from the south by the Lyonnais were thus annihilated. Lyons made some efforts at conciliation; a deputy replied to them in these words: “Rebels, confess your crime, open your gates, show yourselves obedient, be disarmed, and prove yourselves, by your repentance, worthy of the clemency of the Convention.” The Lyonnais had no faith in this clemency, and could not avert the storm: the siege was resolved upon. Kellermann, then called from the army of the Alps, brought, with much regret, the greater part of it to act against the second city of France. The rivalry and jealousy of the neighbouring cities, with the obedience of the country to the orders of the Convention, soon augmented this army; sixty thousand men surrounded Lyons, of which fifteen thousand were disciplined troops. The besiegers received a hundred pieces of cannon, which were served by skilful gunners. Kellermann, according to the system of the time, had with him two commissioners from the Convention, Dubois-Crancé and Gauthier. During civil troubles, party animosities are more ardent in councils than in camps; the rigour of political principles there yields more easily to the generous sentiments which a military life establishes reciprocally between soldier and soldier. Kellermann endeavoured for a long time to bend the inflexibility of the commissioners; he could not succeed. In the mean time, the Lyonnais never ceased to express their devotion to the National Convention; they accepted the constitution of 1793 in primary assemblies, they celebrated the anniversary of the 10th of August, burnt all feudal titles, and invited Kellermann to be present at that fête. They kept up with him a regular correspondence, although they refused to hold any with the Conventional commissioners; they sought to reunite themselves with the neighbouring departments; but terror had combined all the inhabitants against them. At length, on receiving the last propositions of the Conventional deputies, which were equivalent to surrendering themselves at discretion, they replied: “Citizens, representatives of the people, your propositions are still more atrocious than your conduct; we await you; you will not reach us but over heaps of slain, or the cause of liberty and the republic will triumph.” From that time all hope of accommodation vanished; the parties prepared for attack and defence. Warlike enthusiasm fired every heart in Lyons; the young man who would not have devoted himself to all the dangers of the good cause, would have been expelled from his family as well as from the city. Women appeared upon the breach; a public military chest was formed. The insufficiency of the current coin was covered by the notes of the principal merchants; a considerable quantity of provisions of all kinds was brought in, at great expense, but by no means abundant enough for so immense a population. Lyons, situated at the confluence of the Saône and the Rhône, is dominated on the north by the heights which cover a part of its faubourgs; an engineer named Chennelette traced a plan for redoubts over all this front: they were erected with astonishing celerity. The houses were embattlemented, batteries were built, artillery was cast, powder was manufactured; everything denoted a determination for a vigorous resistance. All who held in Lyons either administrative or military posts, knew that there existed no capitulation for them; and they prepared for defence to the death.

The part of the city situated on the south was occupied by the rich commercial houses; the Rhône covered all this front; but, on the opposite side, the bank is uncovered; the buildings, badly protected by the batteries erected on the quay of the Rhône, were left exposed to the destructive fire which the besiegers would soon direct against them. The _corps d’armée_ of the Centre, commanded by Kellermann, formed the principal attack to the east of the isthmus, between the union of the Rhône and the Saône, at the faubourg of La Croix-Rousse. On the north, the quarter of Fouvières, comprised in the great creek formed by the course of the waters of the Saône, was attacked by the faubourg of Vaise. Another attack at the confluence of the two rivers confined the besieged within the lands newly recovered from the waters by the engineer Purache. The besieging troops were established in the villages of Oullins and Sainte-Foi. In the latter days of the siege, the approaches came up to the point of the isthmus, and the batteries of the besiegers cut off all that part of the city from the inhabitants. On the south, upon the left bank of the Rhône, which defended that front, batteries for bombs and firing red-hot shot were placed. Lyons had armed about twenty-five thousand men, commanded by Prëcy, an old soldier, Virieu, an ex-constituent, and Nervo. The civil and administrative authorities, who necessarily took a great part in the resolutions formed, and even in the operations, were not admitted entirely into the secrets of the military leaders, and the threads of the correspondences which were maintained out of the city were not in their hands: there the insurrection was combined with the movements of the enemies’ armies in Savoy. It was proposed that the Prussians and Austrians should drive the French from the lines of Weissemberg, whilst a _corps d’armée_, commanded by the prince de Condé, should surprise Huninguen, cross Franche-Comté without stopping for sieges, and should advance towards Lyons. But the ill-success of the preceding year had made these powers circumspect upon such bold questions. This movement failed, as did another, which was to originate in an auxiliary gathering of emigrants, got together in Switzerland. The Helvetic body persisted in its neutrality, and refused to allow the passage of these troops. The Lyonnais had taken up important military positions; their posts advanced considerably beyond the extent of the city, so as to favour their communications with Montbrison and Saint-Etienne, whence they drew their provisions. They occupied the bridge of Oullins, at a league from Lyons, with the heights of Sainte-Foi and those of La Croix-Rousse.

It was with great reluctance that the national battalions gathered around Lyons and turned their arms against their fellow-citizens. In the first council of war assembled at the commencement of the siege, all voices inclined towards conciliation, and were against force and violence. The representative commissioners, armed with the decree of the National Convention, were obliged to exert all the preponderance of their terrible authority. General Kellermann told them in writing, that, whilst deferring to their requisition, he charged himself with no responsibility. The siege was rather a surrounding attack, than a system carried through according to the rules of art. The Lyonnais, to protect their houses from the fire of the besiegers, had carried their exterior works very far out; they had taken advantage of every building for placing posts and cannon. All these posts were daily attacked, defended, taken, disputed, and retaken. In these combats in detail, the losses were equal, the success balanced, and the results nothing. The persistency of the Lyonnais leaders was supported by the hope and expectation of a powerful diversion, to be effected by the Piedmontese army. This army, by a general movement upon its whole front, had descended from the mountains which separate Savoy from Piedmont, and had effected an invasion in Faussigny, Tarantasia, and Mauritta. The army of the Alps being weakened, had retired. Lyons might hope to be some day relieved by the approach of a foreign army. The situation of the French army in Savoy became so embarrassing, that Kellermann was obliged to leave the conducting of the siege to General Du Muy. A few days sufficed for repulsing the Piedmontese. The Convention at this time ordered that Lyons should be set fire to. During several days and nights, the batteries of the three attacks, east, north, and south, poured upon the city a deluge of fire; bombs and red-hot balls carried fire and destruction into all quarters; the public establishments and the beautiful houses of Bellecourt were either battered down by balls or consumed by fire; the quarter of Saint-Clair was the first exposed to the conflagration. Every one was on the watch; all were united in Lyons to endeavour to stop the progress of it. A general cry of horror and indignation arose when the arsenal was seen to be on fire. More than a hundred houses were consumed; magazines of munitions and forage became the prey of the flames. This disaster appeared to be not the effect of the bombs, but the crime of some base incendiary. During the bombardment, traitors gave signals to point out the best places at which to aim. We tremble to relate an instance of a new species of crime. A man bearing the title of a representative of the people, caused bombs to be showered upon the Hôtel-Dieu,--of all the hospitals in France, the one which was perhaps the best conducted. In this asylum, the wounded belonging to the city, and those who were taken prisoners, received equal attention,--a touching lesson of humanity for the Conventional commissioners, who never failed to have all the rebels shot who fell into their hands. The Lyonnais could not believe that there was premeditation in this fire. They hoisted a black flag over the hospital; but instead of averting the bombs, this signal seemed only to attract them. At this period, the besieged began to be sensible of the horrors of famine, their connection with Le Forez being then cut off. The mills having been destroyed by the bombardment, the women proposed that all the barley or wheaten bread should be reserved for the combatants, whilst they should be satisfied with half a pound of oaten bread delivered to them daily. Very soon everything eatable was exhausted. Reduced to this cruel extremity, the besieged thought to gain relief by sending from their walls all the persons useless for the defence of the city. A colleague of Dubois-Cranée committed an act of inhumanity scarcely credible: his own sister, an inhabitant of Lyons, came to the camp of the besiegers, exhausted by hunger and followed by her family. “Let her go back,” cried the Conventional commissioner,--“let her go back and ask the rebels for bread!”