CASTILLON.
A.D. 1452.
However unimportant this siege may look in the “great history,” we cannot refrain from giving it, as the scene of the “last fight” of one of the bravest and most esteemed heroes that do honour to our annals.
The army of Charles VII. of France, on the 13th of July, 1452, laid siege to Castillon, a little city of Perigord, on the Dordogne, ten leagues from Bordeaux, then in the occupation of the English. Marshals Lohéac and Jalognes had the conducting of it; Jean Biereau, grand master of the artillery, commanded seven hundred cannoniers. This place, surrounded by lines of circumvallation and an intrenched camp, was brought to bay, when the brave English general Talbot came to its aid. He at once put to flight a body of free-archers. Seduced by this easy success, he marched straight to the intrenchments of the French camp. Its fortifications astonished him, without abating his courage: he gave the assault. During two hours, he braved all the efforts and the murderous fire of the French,—at eighty years of age, he fought with all the ardour of youth: the English gave way; twice he brought them back to the charge, and twice he was repulsed. A fresh French corps came up, fell upon the rear-guard of the English, and overwhelmed it.
In vain Talbot, sword in hand, covered with blood and dust, rode through the ranks, animating his men by his words and his example. His war-horse, struck down by a culverin, encumbered him in his fall. He was on the point of expiring, when his son flew to his assistance. “Retire!” cried the generous old man, “reserve your young days for a more useful occasion. I die fighting for my country; live, my son, to serve it.”
After uttering these words, he expired. His son, the young Lord Lisle, fell a few minutes after, whilst endeavouring to avenge his death. The English fled; and Castillon surrendered the next day.
“Thus perished Talbot, whom the English of that day called their Achilles. He had, it is true, the valour of one: he was not only brave, but an excellent negotiator, a faithful subject, a sincere friend, and a generous enemy.”
And this eulogy is written by a Frenchman! So pleased were we with it, that we abstained from calling in Shakespeare, who has immortalized this last scene of the gallant Talbot and his son. When will Frenchmen do equal justice to Nelson and Wellington? When perhaps they have been dead as long as Talbot has.