javelin which had been plucked from the body of a man, and had not since touched the ground, was the best instrument for the purpose.[1]
Now for war. There is a common belief in modern times that great battles bring on clouds and rain through the atmospheric disturbances set up by the rolling reverberation of the artillery. During the American Civil War it was a matter of common observation that rain followed the great battles. I have been told, by one who took part in the battle of Solferino, that the day was dull and rainy; indeed, the Austrian commander attributed the loss of the battle to a terrific thunderstorm which burst over the field and obscured the movements of powerful masses of the enemy. The belief that heavy firing brings down rain is indeed so rooted, that a civil engineer wrote a book not many years ago to prove it, and a gentleman of scientific tastes read a paper to the same effect before the British Association in 1874.[2] Perhaps they would have spared themselves the trouble if they had been aware, first, that as late as the beginning of this century the belief was just the reverse, and batteries were regularly kept by many French Communes for the sole purpose of dispersing the clouds;[3] and second, that the theory which connects great battles with heavy rain is very much older than the invention of gunpowder. After describing the defeat of the Teutons by the Romans under Marius, Plutarch mentions a popular saying, that great
- ↑ Pliny, Nat. Hist., xxviii, 33 seq.
- ↑ “On Disturbance of the Weather by Artificial Influences, especially Battles, Military Movements, Great Explosions, and Conflagrations,” by R. B. Belcher. See Report of the meeting of the British Association for 1874, Transactions of the Sections, p. 36.
- ↑ Journal and Proceedings of the R. Society of N. S. Wales, xvi (1882), p. 12. The address of the President (p. 11 seq.) contains a judicious discussion of the whole question. The earlier view must have been shared by Southey, for, in describing a naval action in the Mediterranean, he says “the firing made a perfect calm” (Life of Nelson, ch. iii).
