ace are the elements of heaven. Hatred and war
are the elements of hell. Man, upon the battle-field, even in a good
cause, must call to his aid the energies of the world of woe. Rushing
squadrons swept the field, crushing beneath iron hoofs the dying and
the dead. Grapeshot mowed down the crowded ranks, splintering bones,
and lacerating nerves, and extorting shrieks of agony which even the
thunders of the battle could not drown. Henry plunged into the
thickest of the fight, every where exposing himself to peril like the
humblest soldier. The conflict was too desperate to be lasting. In
less than an hour the field of battle was crimson with blood and
covered with mangled corpses.

The Leaguers began to waver. They broke and fled in awful confusion.
The miserable fugitives were pursued and cut down by the keen swords
of the cavalry, while from every eminence the cannon of the victors
plowed their retreating ranks with balls. Henry himself headed the
cavalry in the impetuous pursuit, that the day might be the more
decisive. When he returned, covered with blood, he was greeted from
his triumphant ranks with the shout, _Vive le roi!_

Marshal Biron, with a powerful reserve, had remained watching the
progress of the fight, ready to avail himself of any opportunity which
might present to promote or to increase the discomfiture of the foe.
He now joined the monarch, saying,

"This day, sire, you have performed the part of Marshal Biron, and
Marshal Biron that of the king."

"Let us praise God, marshal," answered Henry, "for the victory is
his."

The routed army fled with the utmost precipitation in two directions,
one division toward Chartres and the other toward Ivry. The whole
Royalist army hung upon their rear, assailing them with every
available missile of destruction. The Duke of Mayenne fled across the
Eure. Thousands of his broken bands were crowding the shore, striving
to force their way across the thronged bridge, when the Royalist
cavalry, led by the monarch himself, was seen in the distance spurring
furiously over the hills. Mayenne himself having passed, in order to
secure his own safety, cruelly gave the command to destroy the bridge,
leaving the unhappy men who had not yet crossed at the mercy of the
victors. The bridge was immediately blown up. Many of those thus
abandoned, in their terror cast themselves into the flooded stream,
where multitudes were drowned. Others shot their horses and built a
rampart o