The Siege of London (Posteritas)/Chapter 9
CONCENTRATION OF TROOPS IN EDINBURGH.—PANIC AMONGST THE CITIZENS.—TREMENDOUS BATTLE ON THE UNION CANAL.—CONDUCT OF THE ZOUAVES.—THE ENGLISH FORCED TO RETREAT.—DETERMINED DEFENCE AND BLOWING UP OF THE CASTLE.—THE BURNING OF EDINBURGH.—GHASTLY SCENES.—EDINBURGH A SECOND MOSCOW.
WHILE the movements referred to in the preceding chapter were being carried out, the two lines of railway, by Berwick and Carlisle, were rapidly bringing up troops, but still the forces poured into the town from all sides were inadequate to the defence of such a city as Edinburgh. In addition to the regulars there was a large body of local volunteers, who were full of ardour and patriotism; but, as was subsequently proved, they were lacking in the discipline so essential to troops in action.
While the army was thus confident and hopeful of inflicting a crushing defeat on the invaders, the citizens themselves did not share in their enthusiasm, and many thousands of the unfortunate people left the town and streamed in a panic-stricken crowd down to Leith, where a powerful British ironclad lay, together with a gunboat, and several merchant steamers which had been hastily converted into fighting vessels. This fleet, however, could render no assistance, either by landing blue-jackets or marines, or receiving the inhabitants on board, as they had received orders to be prepared for a naval engagement, as it was known that several French ships were hovering about the mouth of the Forth.
Leith presented an extraordinary scene at this time. It was crowded with the miserable refugees, and every conceivable place of shelter was filled with them. The suffering and terror were inconceivable, and many women and children died of fright.
In Edinburgh all was excitement and activity. The English commander was disposing of his troops, placing the strength of his army in line on the side of the Union Canal, and holding in force a bridge across the Canal, whereby a great strategical advantage was gained. The total English force was about 26,000 men, while that of the invaders was over 31,000. The French General, being fully aware of his superiority, resolved to strike a sharp, and, if possible, a decisive blow. He divided his army into two divisions, the one being sent directly against the English position, while the other was ordered to march considerably to the east, and attack the enemy in flank. This movement was executed with great skill and was unobserved by the English, owing to the hilly nature of the ground over which the French moved.
The French attacking division was formed in line along the south-west side of the Canal, and opened a tremendous rifle fire, which was supported by the artillery which had been posted on both flanks. The distance between the two forces being very short, the fire from both sides told with fearful effect. Getting impatient under the murderous rain of iron and lead, the Zouaves made one of their mad, impetuous rushes for the bridge, and took it at the point of the bayonet, and gaining the other side threw themselves into squares with that rapidity of movement for which they are celebrated, before the British Dragoons could charge them. Over and over again were the squares charged, but it was impossible to break them, and the hell of fire they poured forth caused the English to recoil with great loss. The engagement had now become general all along the line of the Canal, and the result of the battle seemed doubtful; until suddenly the earth to the east seemed to tremble, and 3,000 horsemen galloped madly upon the scene of strife, as Virgil so admirably described—
"Quadrupetante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum.
The new-comers were a body of French cavalry which had succeeded in crossing the Canal by a bridge which strangely enough had been left undefended. This remarkable oversight cost the British dearly. The British commander attempted to change front, but he had not time, either for that or forming squares; the consequence being his line of infantry was rolled up in confusion, without the possibility of order being restored. A hasty retreat was, therefore, made to the west, with the French cavalry in pursuit, while strong bodies of infantry and artillery were marched to the town, and halted in the Grass Market and its adjoining streets, in order that the Castle might be reduced; for although very few troops had been left to defend it, the French were unaware of this.
French engineer officers, together with a body of sappers and miners, advanced to the Castle gate and succeeded in laying a mine, which on being fired blew the gateway into ruins. The troops were at once put in motion, but now a remarkable scene occurred. The defenders had placed cannon in position so as to command the approach to the gateway, and they opened a fearful enfilading fire. In addition to this, many hundreds of the townspeople had crowded into the houses on either side, and poured down a rain of bullets on the advancing troops, while from the roofs men hurled the parapet stones over and buckets of blazing petroleum. Raving women, who had seen husbands, sons, sweethearts, and fathers shot down, rushed out armed with knives, pokers, and other weapons, and attacked the French, who were absolutely forming a barricade in the narrow streets by their dead and wounded. The slaughter was fearful, and for a time it really seemed doubtful whether the Castle could be taken in face of the storm of fire which withered them on all sides. In a little while, however, the cannonade from the Castle slackened, owing to the ammunition running short, and taking advantage of that the French pressed forward over their comrades' bodies, and through the blazing wreck and tumult, and succeeded in gaining an entrance and putting the devoted garrison to the sword, as they refused to surrender; but scarcely had this been done when a tremendous explosion laid the Castle in ruins and hurled hundreds of the conquerors into eternity. It has never been ascertained whether this explosion was the result of accident or design; but it is generally supposed that some of the citizens, who had previously sought shelter within the walls of the fortress, fired the magazine rather than let their grand historical castle fall into the hands of the hated enemy.
Night closed in upon the awful scene and put a stop to hostilities. The French took possession of the ruins of the Castle. They were famished and weary, having been fighting for many hours without food. It was not until midnight that their cavalry, which had pursued the routed English, returned, and brought with them the commissariat wagons. They also brought 2,000 prisoners. They had been unable to capture more as the many bridges over the Canal had enabled the retreating troops to effect their escape south.
Driven to despair on seeing how the battle had gone against the English, the citizens of Edinburgh resolved that their splendid town should be given to the flames, and very soon the darkness of the night was dispelled by lurid gleams that broke out in a hundred quarters at once, especially in the old town. The French made desperate efforts to extinguish these fires, but efforts were utterly futile, and a strong gale fanning the flames, the whole town soon seemed to be in a blaze, and the invading army beheld the magnificent city, which they had taken at such an immense cost, wrapped in a winding-sheet of fire. Only the pen of a Dante could depict the hellish horrors of that awful night. All through the long hours the work of destruction went on, and the screams of affrighted animals, the agonised cries of dying people, the crash of falling houses, the roar of the flames, and the howling of the fierce wind, made up an appalling spectacle such as the world has rarely witnessed.
When the grey, dull morning broke, more than half the old town was simply a mass of smouldering ruins, beneath which lay the calcined bodies of thousands of its devoted inhabitants. To the French, Edinburgh was a second Moscow, and, as they marched southward, with the blinding snow beating in their faces, and a freezing wind chilling them to the marrow, while their dead and dying marked their wake, they must have sickened at the thought that they were scattering sorrow, suffering, and agony, even as the sower scatters his seed. It is reported of the French Commander-in-Chief that he said, with tears in his eyes, as he gazed back with white face on the smoking city:—
"Comrades, our march will be through a land of fire, and the people will bar our passage with their blistered and blackened bodies, for truly they know not when they are conquered."
This battle, and the destruction of Edinburgh, produced a prodigious sensation throughout England and Scotland. Up to this disaster it is probable that not a man in all England thought or believed that the invaders could advance far into the country. "The French will be driven into the sea." "They will be annihilated," had been on every one's lips. Now Edinburgh was in ruins, and the foe was marching southwards with rapid strides.