Critical and Historical Essays, vol 1 | Page 9

maintained their ground for centuries in
most parts of Europe. That foot- soldiers could withstand the charge of
heavy cavalry was thought utterly impossible, till, towards the close of
the fifteenth century, the rude mountaineers of Switzerland dissolved
the spell, and astounded the most experienced generals by receiving the
dreaded shock on an impenetrable forest of pikes.
The use of the Grecian spear, the Roman sword, or the modern bayonet,
might be acquired with comparative ease. But nothing short of the daily
exercise of years could train the man-at-arms to support his ponderous
panoply, and manage his unwieldy weapon. Throughout Europe this
most important branch of war became a separate profession. Beyond
the Alps, indeed, though a profession, it was not generally a trade. It
was the duty and the amusement of a large class of country gentlemen.
It was the service by which they held their lands, and the diversion by
which, in the absence of mental resources, they beguiled their leisure.
But in the Northern States of Italy, as we have already remarked, the
growing power of the cities, where it had not exterminated this order of
men, had completely changed their habits. Here, therefore, the practice
of employing mercenaries became universal, at a time when it was

almost unknown in other countries.
When war becomes the trade of a separate class, the least dangerous
course left to a government is to force that class into a standing army. It
is scarcely possible, that men can pass their lives in the service of one
State, without feeling some interest in its greatness. Its victories are
their victories. Its defeats are their defeats. The contract loses
something of its mercantile character. The services of the soldier are
considered as the effects of patriotic zeal, his pay as the tribute of
national gratitude. To betray the power which employs him, to be even
remiss in its service, are in his eyes the most atrocious and degrading of
crimes.
When the princes and commonwealths of Italy began to use hired
troops, their wisest course would have been to form separate military
establishments. Unhappily this was not done. The mercenary warriors
of the Peninsula, instead of being attached to the service of different
powers, were regarded as the common property of all. The connection
between the State and its defenders was reduced to the most simple and
naked traffic. The adventurer brought his horse, his weapons, his
strength, and his experience, into the market. Whether the King of
Naples or the Duke of Milan, the Pope or the Signory of Florence,
struck the bargain, was to him a matter of perfect indifference. He was
for the highest wages and the longest term. When the campaign for
which he had contracted was finished, there was neither law nor
punctilio to prevent him from instantly turning his arms against his late
masters. The soldier was altogether disjoined from the citizen and from
the subject.
The natural consequences followed. Left to the conduct of men who
neither loved those whom they defended, nor hated those whom they
opposed, who were often bound by stronger ties to the army against
which they fought than to the State which they served, who lost by the
termination of the conflict, and gained by its prolongation, war
completely changed its character. Every man came into the field of
battle impressed with the knowledge that, in a few days, he might be
taking the pay of the power against which he was then employed, and,
fighting by the side of his enemies against his associates. The strongest
interests and the strongest feelings concurred to mitigate the hostility of
those who had lately been brethren in arms, and who might soon be

brethren in arms once more. Their common profession was a bond of
union not to be forgotten even when they were engaged in the service
of contending parties. Hence it was that operations, languid and
indecisive beyond any recorded in history, marches and
counter-marches, pillaging expeditions and blockades, bloodless
capitulations and equally bloodless combats, make up the military
history of Italy during the course of nearly two centuries. Mighty
armies fight from sunrise to sunset. A great victory is won. Thousands
of prisoners are taken; and hardly a life is lost. A pitched battle seems
to have been really less dangerous than an ordinary civil tumult.
Courage was now no longer necessary even to the military character.
Men grew old in camps, and acquired the highest renown by their
warlike achievements, without being once required to face serious
danger. The political consequences are too well known. The richest and
most enlightened part of the world was left undefended to the assaults
of every barbarous invader, to the brutality of Switzerland, the
insolence of France, and the fierce rapacity of Arragon. The