History of the Reign of Philip the Second, King of Spain, Vols. 1 and 2

by William Hickling Prescott

When the duke of Savoy urged, as it is said, the expediency of profiting by the present panic to march at once on the French capital, Philip looked at the dangers of such a step. Several strong fortresses of the enemy would be left in his rear. Rivers must be crossed, presenting lines of defence which could easily be maintained against a force even superior to his own. Paris was covered by formidable works, and forty thousand citizens could be enrolled, at the shortest notice, for its protection. It was not wise to urge the foe to extremity, to force a brave and loyal people, like the French, to rise en masse, as they would do for the defence of their capital. The emperor, his father, had once invaded France with a powerful army, and laid siege to Marseilles. The issue of that invasion was known to everybody. "The Spaniards," it was tauntingly said, "had come into the country feasting on turkeys; they were glad to escape from it feeding on roots!"[219] Philip determined, therefore, to abide by his original plan of operations, and profit by the late success of his arms to press the siege of St. Quentin with his whole force.—It would not be easy for any one, at this distance of time, to pronounce on the wisdom of his decision. But subsequent events tend considerably to strengthen our confidence in it.

Preparations were now made to push the siege with vigor. Besides the cannon already in the camp, and those taken in the battle, a good number of[{98}] pieces were brought from Cambray to strengthen the battering-train of the besiegers. The river was crossed; and the Faubourg d'Ile was carried by the duke, after a stout resistance on the part of the French, who burned the houses in their retreat. The Spanish commander availed himself of his advantage to establish batteries close to the town, which kept up an incessant cannonade, that shook the old walls and towers to their foundation. The miners also carried on their operations, and galleries were excavated almost to the centre of the place.

The condition of the besieged, in the mean time, was forlorn in the extreme; not so much from want of food, though their supplies were scanty, as from excessive toil and exposure. Then it was that Coligni displayed all the strength of his character. He felt the importance of holding out as long as possible, that the nation might have time to breathe, as it were, and recover from the late disaster. He endeavored to infuse his own spirit into the hearts of his soldiers, toiling with the meanest of them, and sharing all their privations. He cheered the desponding, by assuring them of speedy relief from their countrymen. Some he complimented for their bravery; others he flattered by asking their advice. He talked loudly of the resources at his command. If any should hear him so much as hint at a surrender, he gave them leave to tie him hand and foot, and throw him into the moat. If he should hear one of them talk of it, the admiral promised to do as much by him.[220]

The duc de Nevers, who had established himself, with the wreck of the French army and such additional levies as he could muster, in the neighborhood of St. Quentin, contrived to communicate with the admiral. On one occasion he succeeded in throwing a reinforcement of a hundred and twenty arquebusiers into the town, though it cost him thrice that number, cut to pieces by the Spaniards in the attempt. Still the number of the garrison was altogether inadequate to the duties imposed on it. With scanty refreshment, almost without repose, watching and fighting by turns, the day passed in defending the breaches which the night was not long enough to repair. No frame could be strong enough to endure it.

Coligni had, fortunately, the services of a skilful engineer, named St. Rémy, who aided him in repairing the injuries inflicted on the works by the artillery, and by the scarcely less destructive mines of the Spaniards. In the want of solid masonry, every material was resorted to for covering up the breaches. Timbers were thrown across; and boats filled with earth, laid on the broken rampart, afforded a good bulwark for the French musketeers. But the time was come when neither the skill of the engineer nor the courage of the garrison could further avail. Eleven practicable breaches had been opened, and St. Rémy assured the admiral that he could not engage to hold out four-and-twenty hours longer.[221]

STORMING OF ST. QUENTIN.

The duke of Savoy also saw that the time had come to bring the siege to a close by a general assault. The twenty-seventh of August was the day assigned for it. On that preceding he fired three mines, which shook down some fragments of the wall, but did less execution than was expected. On the morning of the twenty-seventh, his whole force was under arms. The duke divided it into as many corps as there were breaches, placing these[{99}] corps under his best and bravest officers. He proposed to direct the assault in person.

Coligni made his preparations also with consummate coolness. He posted a body of troops at each of the breaches, while he and his brother Dandelot took charge of the two which, still more exposed than the others, might be considered as the post of danger. He had the satisfaction to find, in this hour of trial, that the men, as well as their officers, seemed to be animated with his own heroic spirit.

Before proceeding to storm the place, the duke of Savoy opened a brisk cannonade, in order to clear away the barricades of timber, and other temporary defences, which had been thrown across the breaches. The fire continued for several hours, and it was not till afternoon that the signal was given for the assault. The troops rushed forward,—Spaniards, Flemings, English, and Germans,—spurred on by feelings of national rivalry. A body of eight thousand brave Englishmen had joined the standard of Philip in the early part of the campaign;[222] and they now eagerly coveted the opportunity for distinction which had been denied them at the battle of St. Quentin, where the fortune of the day was chiefly decided by cavalry. But no troops felt so keen a spur to their achievements as the Spaniards, fighting as they were under the eye of their sovereign, who from a neighboring eminence was spectator of the combat.

The obstacles were not formidable in the path of the assailants, who soon clambered over the fragments of masonry and other rubbish which lay scattered below the ramparts, and, in the face of a steady fire of musketry, presented themselves before the breaches. The brave men stationed to defend them were in sufficient strength to occupy the open spaces; their elevated position gave them some advantage over the assailants, and they stood to their posts with the resolution of men prepared to die rather than surrender. A fierce conflict now ensued along the whole extent of the ramparts; and the French, sustained by a dauntless spirit, bore themselves as stoutly in the fight as if they had been in training for it of late, instead of being enfeebled by scanty subsistence and excessive toil. After a severe struggle, which lasted nearly an hour, the Spaniards were driven back at all points. Not a breach was won; and, broken and dispirited, the assailants were compelled to retire on their former position.