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Bassompierre had, however, not done their work as thoroughly as Egmont had done. The ground was so miry and soft that in the brief space which separated the hostile lines they had not power to urge their horses to full speed. Throwing away their useless lances, they came on at a feeble canter, sword in hand, and were unable to make a very vigorous impression on the more heavily armed troopers opposed to them. Meeting with it firm resistance to their career, they wheeled, faltered a little, and fell a short distance back. Many of the riders, being of the Reformed religion, refused, moreover, to fire upon the Huguenots, and discharged their carbines in the air.
The king, whose glance on the battle-field was like inspiration, saw the blot and charged upon them with his whole battalia of cavalry. The veteran Biron followed hard upon the snow-white plume. The scene was changed, victory succeeded to impending defeat, and the enemy was routed. The riders and cuiras. siers, broken into a struggling heap of confusion, strewed the ground with their dead bodies, or carried dismay into the ranks of the infantry as they strove to escape. Brunswick went down in the mêlée, mortally wounded as it was believed. Egmont renewing the charge at the head of his victorious Belgian troopers, fell dead with a musket-ball through his heart: The shattered German and Walloon cavalry, now pricked forward by the lances of their companions, under the passionate com mand of Mayenne and Aumale, now falling back before the furious charges of the Huguenots, were completely overthrown and cut to pieces.
Seven times did Henry of Navarre lead his troopers to the charge; but suddenly, in the midst of the din of battle and the cheers of victory, a message of despair went from lip to lip throughout the royal lines. The king had disappeared. He was killed, and the hopes of Protestantism and of France were fallen for ever with him. The white standard of his battalia had been scen floating wildly and purposelessly over the field; for his bannerman, Pot de Rhodes, a young noble of Dauphiny, wounded mortally in the head, with blood streaming orer his face and blinding his sight, was utterly unable to control his horse, who gallopped hither and thither at his own caprice, misleading many troopers who followed in his erratic career.
A cavalier, armed in proof, and wearing the famous snow - white plume, after a hand-to-hand struggle with a veteran of Count
Bossu's regiment, was seen to fall dead by the side of the ban
The Fleming, not used to boast, loudly asserted that he had slain the Béarnese, and the news spread rapidly over the battlefield. The defeated Confederates gained new courage, the vic1orious Royalists were beginning to waver, when suddenly, between the hostile lines, in the very midst of the battle, the king gallopped forward, bareheaded, covered with blood and dust, but entirely unhurt. A wild shout of “Vive le Roi !" rang through the air. Cheerful as ever, he addressed a few encour,aging words to his soldiers, with a smiling face, and again led a charge. It was all that was necessary to complete the victory.
The enemy broke and ran away on every side in wildest confusion, followed by the Royalist cavalry, who sabred them is they fled. The panic gained the foot-soldiers, who should have supported the cavalry, but had not been at all engaged in the action. The French infantry threw away their arms as they rushed from the field and sought refuge in the woods. The Walloons were so expeditious in the race that they never stopped till they gained their own frontier. The day was hopelessly lost, and although Mayenne had conducted himself well in the early part of the day, it was certain that he was excelled by none il the celerity of his flight when the rout had fairly begun. Pausing to draw breath as he gained the wood, he was seen to deal blows with his own sword among the mob of fugitives, not that he might rally them to their flag and drive them back to another encounter, but because they encumbered his own retreat.
Few cavalry actions have attained a wider celebrity in history than the fight of Ivry. Yet there have been many hard-fought battles, where the struggle was fiercer and closer, where the issue wils for a longer time doubtful, where far more lives on either side were lost, where the final victory was immediately productive of very much greater results, and which, nevertheless, have sunk into hopeless oblivion.
Our author's last work was The Life and Death of John Barneveld, published in 1874.
Motley died May 27, 1877, near Dorchester, England.
BAYARD TAYLOR was born, January 11, 1825, in the village ut Kennett Square, Chester County, Pennsylvania. The history of his life is full of instruction and incitement for the youthful aspirant. His early education consisted only in such meagre instruction as could be got in a country school. With this he entered a printing-office in West Chester, believing such employment would increase and facilitate his learning.
Here his leisure moments were spent in the sober and praiseworthy task of studying Latin and French, and in penning verses, for which he evinced an early aptitude. These poems he collected and published, when but nineteen years old, in a volume entitled Ximena. His object in publishing these youthful effusions was to make reputation enough to secure for himself a position as correspondent to some leading newspaper, while making the tour of Europe.
Success, in a measure, attended his effort, and he started on his cherished adventure with the paltry purse of $140, but also with the wealth of high hopes and resolves. With some further aid from home, he made, on foot, the tour of England, Scotland, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, and France. About two years were consumed in this journey, and its total expenses amounted to $500. He has told us how all this was accomplished in Views-a-Foot, published in 1846.
In 1848, Taylor became a permanent correspondent of the New York Tribune. About the same time he issued a volume entitled Rhymes of Travel. The succeeding two years were spent in travel in California and Mexico, which afforded the materials for his next volume, El Dorado; or, Adventures in the Path of Empire.
A third volume, A Book of Romances, Tyrics, and Songs, was given to the public in 1851, as a sort of farewell, or, may be, propitiatory offering, on the occasion of his departuro on an extensive tour in the East. On this journey he was absent over two years, during which time he travelled some fifty thousand miles, visiting Egypt, Nubia, Ethiopia, Soudan, Palestine, Syria, Asia Minor, Turkey, Southern Europe, India, China, and Japan./ These all became the subjects of his florid and descriptive pen under titles which we name below.
In the winter of 1856–7, Taylor penetrated to the extreme northern parts of Europe, and since has described these and later experiences in Northern Travel and Summer and Winter Pictures of Sweden, Denmark, and Lapland, which volumes were issued in 1858.
A few years since, our author, an adventurer by nature, made bold to try the perils of a new field of labor, namely, Fiction; and fetched us from its marvellous realms two stories, Hannah Thurston, a Story of American Life, published in 1863, and John Godfrey's Fortunes, related by Himself, published in 1865.4 " These works are original in their material and treatment; the characters and incidents are drawn from the writer's observation and experience; they exhibit town and country life in America, with the opinions and ideas of the day, and are pervaded by a healthy and natural sentiment." *
The same comment may be applied as well to a still later story than the above, entitled The Story of Kennett, published in 1866.
And now, just as we are about concluding this sketch, Mr. Taylor steps before us again in strange and unsuspected guise. His air is that of a foreign-bred gentleman, and is profoundly scholarly. In a word, he introduces himself to us as the translator of Goethe's Faust. “Mr. Taylor translates' Faust’ in the original metres, with the rhymes, monosyllabic and dissyllabic, almost invariably as they are in the German, and also with a very remarkable degree of litarainess, though not with so great literalness as we could
* Duyckinck's Cyclopædia of American Literat:ire.
have desired./. . . Now and then a precious phrase is lost; but on the whole the translation is so good that if the reader does not recur to the German he will certainly not know from poverty of the English that he has suffered any deprivation. Here, as elsewhere in Mr. Taylor's rendering, those who read the verse aloud will perceive how he has filled himself with the music of Goethe, and how perfectly he echoes it."
""The characteristics of Mr. Taylor's writings are, in his poems, ease of expression, with a careful selection of poetic capabilities, a full, animated style, with a growing attention to art and condensation. The prose is equable and clear, in the flowing style; the narrative of a genial, healthy observer of the many manners of the world which he has seen in the most remarkable portions of its four quarters.”ť
We append a list of such of Taylor's works as have not already been enumerated:
A Journey to Central Africa; The Lands of the Saracen ; or, Pictures of Palestine; Asia Minor, Sicily, and Spain; A Visit to India, China, and Japan; Travels in Greece and Russia, with an Excursion to Crete; Cyclopaedia of Modern Travel; At Home and Abroad, A Sketch-book of Life; Scenery and Men-First Series; Scenery and Men-Second Series ; Byways of Europe; Life, Travels, and Books of Alexander ron Humboldt ; Colorado; Picture of St. John; The Poct's Journal; Poems of Home and Travel, Poems of the Orient. (See Supplement H.)
PROGRESS NORTHWARDS-A STORM.
CHAPTER V. (abridged)- Northern Travel. WE arose betimes on Christmas morn, but the grim and delib. erate landlady detained us an hour in preparing our coffees. The horses were at last ready; we muffled up carefully and set out. The dawn was just streaking the East, the sky was crystal
* Atlantic Monthly, February, 1871.
Includes Rhymes of Travel and the Book of Romances, Lyrics, and Songs, before mentioned.