The Day Islam Almost Died:

The Road to Ayn Jalut.

"On that day [Judgment Day] We will let them [Gog and Magog] come in tumultuous throngs. The Trumpet shall be sounded and We will gather them all together. On that day Hell shall be laid bare before the unbelievers who have turned a blind eye
to My admonitions and a deaf ear to My warning."
— The Koran, sura 18.

By Ron Fritze
September 24, 2007

Genghiz Khan and the Mongol Hordes are a chapter in world history that most people have heard about. Born as Temujin in 1162, the future Genghiz Khan began to conquer neighboring tribes and add their troops to his armies in 1180. By 1206 he had unified Mongolia and taken the title of Genghiz Khan, meaning "supreme emperor."

Conquests continued with the Western Hsia empire in 1209, the Chin empires in 1215, and the Kara-Khitai in 1217 accepting Mongol domination. Between 1218 and 1224, the armies of Genghiz Khan destroyed the powerful Khwarismian Empire that ruled over Persia and what is now Afghanistan, along with other parts of Central Asia. Meanwhile other Mongol forces invaded the Caucasus region in 1221 and entered Russia in 1222, inflicting a terrible defeat on Mstislav of Kiev at the battle of Kalka River in 1223. Although the Hsia and the Chin attempted to throw off the Mongol domination in 1224, Genghiz Khan managed to subdue them before his death in 1227, although the Chin were not finally destroyed until 1234.

Conquering the Chin and Sung.

Genghiz Khan's successor, Ogetei, reigned from 1227 to 1241 and continued the expansion of the already massive Mongol Empire. After completing the conquest of the Chin Empire in 1234, Ogetei began the long war to conquer the great Sung Empire of southern China, which lasted until complete Mongol victory in 1279.

In 1237 Ogetei sent a large army of 150,000 soldiers under the command of Batu, a grandson of Genghiz, and Subetei, one of the best Mongol generals, to conquer Europe. From 1237 through 1240 Subetei smashed through the principalities of Russia, destroying them and their armies. The Russian campaign culminated with the capture and destruction of Kiev on 6 December 1240.

After they had subdued the Russian lands, the Mongols turned on Central Europe. Subetei advanced with an army of 120,000 men in 1241. Incredibly, Subetei divided his army into four columns to sweep through Europe with the objective of a rendezvous at the primary target of their invasion, the kingdom of Hungary. The armies of the Mongols were so mobile and so effective on the battlefield that their European opponents mistakenly thought they were facing forces in excess of 200,000 in the northernmost column of the Mongols when it actually numbered only 20,000.

Those 20,000 men under the command of Kaidu, the grandson of Ogetei, managed to easily defeat an army of Germans and Poles at Liegnitz on 9 April 1241. Meanwhile Subetei proceeded with the attack on Hungary. Bela, the king of Hungary, managed to gather a force of about 100,000 at the Sajo River to oppose a Mongol crossing. The Hungarians possessed numerical superiority over the Mongols, but the Subetei pressed the attack anyway.

King Bela's Army Is Annihilated.

Sending a small force to distract the Hungarians with an assault across a bridge on the Sajo, Subetei and his main army forded the river further south and managed to surprise and surround the Hungarian army. The Mongols increased the confusion of the Hungarians by leaving a gap for them to retreat. Panicked soldiers started to stream through the gap and caused the Hungarian formations to collapse. The fleeing Hungarians now found that additional Mongol troops had them surrounded. The invaders slaughtered their disorganized opponents, killing from 40,000 to 70,000 Hungarians. The army of King Bela had been annihilated in a single day at the battle of the Sajo River on 11 April 1241.

Subetei now began to plan his attacks on Germany and Italy. Mongol scouting parties were making their way toward Vienna and the Alps during December when word came that the Great Kahn Ogetei had died back in Mongolia.

Ogetei's death brought unexpected relief to the terror-stricken Christian Europeans, who perceived the Mongol invasion as the beginning of the end of the world. They viewed the strange invaders as manifestations of the terrible nations of Gog and Magog, who would fight for Satan in the last battle between the forces of good and evil.

Despite the apocalyptic nature of the threat against them, the Pope and the rulers of Christendom proved incapable of organizing a unified resistance to the Mongols. Fortunately for them, it turned out that they did not need to get organized because the Mongol assault never came. Instead of pressing the attack, Subetei and his army returned to Mongolia to participate in the selection of the next Great Khan.

Not Worth the Effort of Conquest?

Even after a new Khan was in place, the Mongols did not renew their assault on Europe. While the reasons for this are not entirely clear, it appears that the Mongols may have decided that Christendom was not worth the effort of conquest! They did, however, maintain their control of the Russian lands for centuries.

Internal rivalries among the Mongols delayed the election of the next Great Khan until 1246 when Guyuk, the son of Ogetei, was selected. He proved to be both short-lived and ineffectual, and died in 1248.

Several more years elapsed before Mongke, another grandson of Genghiz, was elected Great Khan in 1251. Under his rule Mongol expansion resumed, but instead of Christendom, it was the unconquered lands of Islam and the remnants of the Sung Empire that became the targets of military conquest. One of Mongke's brothers, Kublai of Marco Polo fame, embarked on the final conquest of the Sung Chinese empire. Another brother, Hulagu was given the command of massive invasion of the Middle East in 1253.

The Middle East in 1253 was in a confused state. Crusader states managed to hang on desperately against the armies of the Ayyubid Empire founded by the great Saladin, which controlled Egypt and Syria. The Crusaders were able to survive because the Ayyubids suffered from internal strife and had fallen into decline. In Persia, pockets of the Khwarismian Empire also had managed to survive, while in Mesopotamia, the Abbasid Caliphate continued in Baghdad as a shadow of its former glory. The entire region lived in fear of the Assassins operating out of the mountain strongholds. After reducing resistance in Persia, Hulagu moved against the Assassins and the Abbasid Caliph. By 20 December 1256, the last great Assassin fortress of Alamut had surrendered to the Mongols. The conquest of Mesopotamia followed. By 10 February 1258, Baghdad had fallen and al Mustasim the Caliph had surrendered to Hulagu.

Bagged, Rolled, and Trampled.

When Hulagu arrived in Baghdad on 15 February, al Mustasim showed him the hiding place of the great Abbasid treasure in the hope of being spared. That was not to be. Instead, Hulagu instructed his soldiers to get rid of the Caliph. In homage to the Caliph's status, Hulagu ordered his soldiers to avoid shedding the condemned leader's blood. Their solution was to sew the luckless al Mustasim into a canvas bag or roll him into a rug (the reports of history vary) and then trample him with their horses.

The death of al Mustasim delivered a massive shock to the world of Islam. Their spiritual leader had been murdered by a deadly horde of savage pagans. While other caliphs have been proclaimed over the years since that terrible day, the clear succession of the caliphate was irreparably broken, never to be restored.

In September 1259 Hulagu marched on Ayyubid Syria. On 18 January 1260 the Mongols began the siege of Aleppo, an important Muslim city. The defenders held out until 25 February, at which point the Mongols began a massacre of the population that lasted six days. Hulagu, however, spared the life of Turanshah, an Ayyubid prince who commanded garrison and whose bravery and resourcefulness aroused the admiration of the mercurial Hulagu.

Gripped by terror, the Muslims of Syria surrendered Damascus without a fight. Kitaboga, Hulagu's foremost general and a Nestorian Christian (whose fate plays a major role in the ultimate meaning of this narrative), entered the Syrian capital with his army on 1 March. Now the only major Islamic power that remained free of the Mongols was Egypt, the other half of the Abate empire.

Louix IX Launches a Crusade.

Abate Egypt was not seen as a future powerhouse of Islamic military might in 1249. Instead, Crusaders viewed it as an easy conquest, inspiring Louis IX of France to launch the ill-fated Seventh Crusade. That crusade ended in Christian defeat and the capture and ransoming of Louis by the victorious Muslims. Although their victory was more the result of crusader blunders than the skill of Egyptian forces, it solidified Muslim power in the region.

The Sultan of Egypt, also named Turanshah, commanded an army raised on strength of the powerful Mameluke corps, which consisted of slave-soldiers recruited from Circassians, the Turks, and Tartars of the steppes of Russia. Although technically slaves, the proud and ambitious Mamelukes possessed great influence. Their growing power worried Turanshah, who sought to reduce Mameluke influence.

Sultan Turanshah also angered his father's widow, Shajar ud-Durr. She entered into a conspiracy with a Mameluke commander Aibek, who convinced other commanders to join him in the overthrow of Turanshah. They burst into a banquet on 2 May 1250 and attacked Turanshah with swords, but he escaped and fled to a wooden tower by the Nile. The frenzied Mamelukes set the tower on fire and peppered it with arrows. The beleaguered Turanshah dove into the Nile. From there he begged for mercy but received none. A Mameluke general, Baibars, leaped into the river and killed the sultan with his sword.

Aibek was the first Mameluke to claim the throne of the sultan. It was a questionable claim given his slave heritage, but the Sultana Shajar came to his rescue. A member of the true Ayyubid royalty, she stood at his side to give him the veneer of legitimacy. The couple eventually fell out after a several years, and on 15 April 1557, the Sultana ordered her eunuchs to kill Aibek in his bath.

The Champions of Vengeance Win.

Some Mameluke commanders supported the Sultana because she was legitimate by blood, but others demanded vengeance for the slaughtered Aibek. The champions of vengeance won. They had Shajar beaten to death on 2 May, and replaced her as sultan with Aibek's fifteen year old son, Nur ad-Din Ali. The young Sultan proved to possess no potential as a leader, and so in December 1259 another Mameluke commander, Qutuz, deposed the young ruler and made himself Sultan.

At the very moment that Mongol armies were moving relentlessly against Syria, Egypt had come under the firm and capable rule of a Mameluke general.

To the north, Mongol forces were spreading through Palestine, reaching as far south as Gaza. Hulagu's seemingly invincible army was posed like a hammer to smash Egypt. The last major Islamic state seemed on the brink of extinction.

Once again, however, fate intervened in the form of the death of the Great Khan Mongke on 11 August 1259. Hulagu did not immediately break off the attacks on Islam and went on to conquer Syria. These events caused despair among Muslims and elation among the Middle Eastern Christian community. Hulagu had shown himself to be hostile to Muslims and favorable to Christians, as both his chief wife and his leading general Kitaboga were Nestorian Christians.

Threat of Civil War Draws Hulagu Home.

Still, Mongke's death raised the threat of civil war among the Mongol princes as the heir Kublai and his brother Ariqboga jostled for control. Hulagu was brother to both princes, but sided with the designated heir Kublai, who eventually won the struggle.

While that struggle remained in doubt, Hulagu needed to be strategically poised to come to Kublai's assistance. He also faced another problem: The Mongol khans of the Golden Horde and the Kipchaks had converted to Islam, and they opposed Hulagu's depredations against Muslim lands. They threatened Hulagu with attack. So, immediately after the occupation of Damascus, Hulagu withdraw the bulk of his army back to the Persian heartland of his realm. He left the redoubtable Kitaboga in Damascus with between ten and twenty thousand Mongol warriors to hold their conquests.

In Egypt, Qutuz and his Mameluke comrades decided to take the offensive, and on 26 July 1260 the Mamelukes marched on Gaza and wiped out the tiny Mongol garrison. Accounts of the size of Qutuz's army vary considerably. Some credit him with raising an army of 120,000 to face the much smaller twenty-thousand-man army of Kitaboga. Others claim that the Mameluke army consisted of a mere twenty thousand troops, making it an even fight for Kitaboga. It is more likely that Qutuz's army consisted of a core of twenty thousand Mameluke soldiers with thousands of accompanying Bedouin warriors, refugee Khwarismian and Syrian soldiers, and Egyptian levies.

The advancing Mamelukes asked the Crusaders for leave to march through their territory, and leave was given. Kitaboga may have had a reputation for being pro-Christian among the Eastern Christians, but the Crusaders were Western Christians. They harbored grave doubts as to whether their Eastern co-religionists were much better than the Muslims. As for the Mongols, most Crusaders had no doubts about them being far worse than their traditional Muslim opponents. The savagery of Mongol warfare appalled the Crusaders. Some even considered joining the Mameluke army, but ultimately decided against it.

Turning the Trick on the Mongols.

On 2 September the rival armies came together at Ayn Jalut, also known as Goliath's Spring. The Mameluke general Baibars approached Kitaboga's forces with an advance party, while Qutuz remained behind with the main body of the Mameluke army hidden in the hills. Kitaboga attacked Baibars, who appeared to be retreating in the face of the pursuing Mongols. In fact, he was drawing them into an ambush, a trick used many times by Mongol forces.

Kitaboga and his army were surrounded, but as battle-hardened veterans, they fought back with a fury. A seemingly hopeless situation was transformed by their fierce counter attack, and it was beginning to look like the Mamelukes might break.

In an effort to save the day, Qutuz joined his troops at the forefront of the battle, urging them to fight for the survival of Islam as well as their own lives. The Mamelukes held their ground, managing at last to kill or capture Kitaboga (again, reports vary).

The surviving but demoralized Mongol forces managed to cut their way out of the Mameluke trap and escape total destruction, but the victory belonged to the other side. According to some accounts Qutuz executed the captured Kitaboga on the battlefield with the defiant Mongol cursing him and predicting Hulagu's revenge.

Great Prestige Is Gained in Victory.

Mameluke forces went on to regain control of Syria and restore the full extent of the old Abate empire. Their victory over the seemingly invincible Mongols gave them great prestige in the Islamic world and made them the leading power of the Middle East.

Hulagu never returned to avenge Kitaboga. Severe and continuing problems with fellow Muslim khans distracted him from plans of reconquest. Eventually his descendants as the Ilkhans, or rulers of Persia, converted to Islam.

Part of Kitaboga's prophecy, however, did come true. Qutuz had grown suspicious of Baibars and denied him the governorship of Aleppo. In the kill or be killed world of Mameluke politics, Baibars decided to strike first. On 23 October 1260, he stabbed Qutuz in the back with his sword during a hunting trip in the Nile delta and took his place as Sultan.

The Value of the One Life.

Over the following years, sporadic warfare occurred between the Mongols and the Mamelukes, but neither side could gain the advantage. Islam survived. It would have probably survived a Mongol conquest of Egypt, but things would have been far different in the Middle East had the Mongols won.

Who knows what an army of Hulagu might have done if the way to Mecca had been laid open by the destruction of the Mamelukes? At the very least the Muslims would have no longer been the ruling religion and political force in the region. The history of the Mongol invasions of Europe and the Middle East certainly show that course of history and the fate of nations can hang on the life of one human being.

 

Rob Ride,
Ride Rob
to Scotland.

The Intrepid
Gallop of
Sir Robert Carey.



By Ronald Fritze
Posted on December 1, 2008, from Athens, Alabama

I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;
I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;
'Good speed!' cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;
'Speed!' echoed the wall to us galloping through;
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,
And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

Robert Browning,
“How They Brought the Good News from Aix to Ghent.”

 

History possesses a vast repertoire of stories about great rides and long runs by determined, often heroic individuals. Through most of human history, messages and news were delivered through direct contact between people. Even a letter had to be carried to its addressee by someone. Smoke signals, flashing mirrors, and signal fires could move messages faster than direct physical contact, but they had distinct limitations and could only convey simple messages.

We live in an age where it is possible to call long-distance and speak instantaneously to someone on the other side of the world, so it may be hard to comprehend how slow and strenuous communication could be before the telegraph came on the scene in the nineteenth century.

A Race to Validate
the Prophet's Anointing.

The Bible tells about a hard chariot ride that occurred about 854 BC. At that time Joram was the king of the northern Kingdom of Israel. He was allied with Ahaziah, the king of Judah, and they were fighting against the Syrians, who were trying to capture the city of Ramoth-Gilead on the eastern side of the Jordan River.

A son of the notorious Ahab and Jezebel, Joram was an ungodly monarch. Many in Israel were unhappy with his rule. Prominent among the disenchanted were the general Jehu, the son of Nimshi, and the prophet Elisha.

King Joram was taking a rest at the royal residence at Jezreel when Elisha sent one of his disciples to Ramoth-Gilead to anoint Jehu as the king of Israel, thus usurping the vacationing king. Immediately, Jehu and some of his men mounted chariots and raced toward Jezreel, hoping to surprise Joram before news of the anointing arrived.

The journey to Jezreel covered about 45 miles — and what a wild journey it was. As a watchman stationed on a tower at Jezreel described it, “The driving is like the driving of Jehu, the son of Nimshi; for he driveth furiously.” [2 Kings 9:20]. Both Joram and Ahaziah tried to flee in their own chariots, but Jehu pursued them, shooting them with arrows from his bow. This event is commemorated by the saying “to drive like Jehu,” meaning to drive very fast.

O, for the Glamor
of a Very Good Tale.

Another epic journey took place after the battle of Marathon in 490 BC. -- or so the legend says. History remembers the army of Athens meeting the invading Persians at Marathon and defeating them decisively. But part of the Persian force, after escaping in their ships, devised a plan to sail to a lightly defended Athens and intimidate the city into surrendering before the victorious Athenian army could get back home.

To carry the news of victory to Athens before the Persians could arrive, the messenger Pheidippides was dispatched to run the twenty-six miles from Marathon to Athens. Swift and willing, Pheidippides had recently run from Athens to Sparta, then back again, carrying missives seeking Sparta’s assistance against the Persians, a trip just short of 153 miles — one way.

According to legend, Pheidippides reached Athens on the run, exclaiming, “Rejoice, we conquer!” Other versions quote him as saying, “We have won.” Having delivered the message of victory to an anxious populous, the brave and exhausted messenger then fell down and died.

The marathon race of today also covers twenty-six miles in honor of Pheidippides’s legendary trek from the victorious battlefield of Marathon to his Athenian homeland. Alas, however, au contraire: the famous run of yesteryear may not have occurred at all. And, just in case you are wondering why the Athenians did not send a horse rider back to Athens, the answer may be embedded in the rough and rocky terrain that lay between Athens and Marathon. A horse on the gallop would be hard-pressed to make it safely home.

Besides, Pheidippides probably never made the run. Legend, playing to our innate love of a good story, has a way of glamorizing history. Pheidippides’s feat is not mentioned in Herodotus — and he was not a historian who would have taken a pass on a dramatic (but true) story if it were available to him.

Sheridan and Rienzi
Charge into the Fray.

Despite the stamina and willpower of the most athletic and determined among us — we mere humans — it’s a fact that a rider on horseback can carry a message more quickly and across greater distances, especially if the ground is right. Speed and endurance are gained in the union of man and beast of burden.

American history has some epic rides among its treasure-trove of good tales, the most famous being Paul Revere’s ride of 1775. Another gallant ride took place on 19 October 1864 when Confederate General Jubal Early attacked the Union army at Cedar Creek. When the attack began, Union commander Phil Sheridan was ten miles away at Winchester. Hearing the sound of artillery in the distance, Sheridan gathered his aides, mounted his horse Rienzi, and rode headlong toward the sound of the guns.

Arriving at Cedar Creek, General Sheridan began to rally his troops, shouting from horseback, “Boys, those of you who are not cowards follow me. For I’ll sleep in that camp tonight or I’ll sleep in Hell!” The general’s admonition brought a sudden halt to his army’s disorderly retreat. Regrouping, the Union soldiers launched a spirited counter-attack. The Confederate forces under Early were stung by unexpected defeat and didn’t recover. Sheridan had saved the day. His dash on horseback to the front lines was commemorated by Thomas Buchanan Read in the poem “Sheridan’s Ride.” The poem prompted the Union general to change his horse’s name from Rienzi to Winchester.

Sir Robert Rides His Steed
into the Realm of Courtly Power.

But we are here to study Tudor and Stuart Britain, are we not? So, from ancient Greece through the Revolutionary and Civil wars of the United States we arrive, along a convoluted but logical line of inquiry, to the ride of Sir Robert Carey.

It was 1603. The transition of dynasty from Tudor to Stuart was caught-up in its own tortuous ride into an uncertain future.

The death of a monarch always increased the level of societal tension in the tenuous political climate of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries in England. But the death of Elizabeth I in 1603 raised the tension to a volatile level. At immediate issue was the necessity of informing a foreign king, James VI of Scotland, that he was now the ruler of England. Information like that needed to be controlled. But how?

There were other claimants to the English throne. What would they do with advance news of the Queen’s demise? Too, how would foreign enemies leverage news of change on the throne to further threaten England and undermine its war efforts against Spain? And what about the disgruntled minority, the Roman Catholics of England? Many in the English court feared their treasonous plots might ignite a civil war.

The first defensive measure was to close the ports. The Privy Council also ordered that no one was to enter or to leave Richmond Palace where the Queen lay dead. In spite of those orders, Harry Carey, the Lord Chamberlain, departed from the palace and also ordered that his brother Sir Robert Carey be allowed to leave, saying, “Let him out, I will answer for him.” The porters did not dare defy the will of the Lord Chamberlain.

Sir Robert Carey (c1560-1639) was 43 years old when Elizabeth I died. His father was Sir Harry Carey, Lord Hunsdon (1526-1596), son of Mary Boleyn and Sir William Carey — although some credited Henry VIII with being his real father. Elizabeth had appointed Sir Harry Carey as her chamberlain, a post that descended to his oldest son, also named Harry.

Family connections helped Sir Robert secure several positions in the English government, including Warden of the Northern Marches on the borders with Scotland. As warden, Sir Robert managed to reduce the raiding and destruction of the lawless Border Reivers. He also served as an ambassador to Scotland on several occasions and had the opportunity to meet James VI.

As the approach of Queen Elizabeth’s end became apparent to all, Robert Carey realized that his current position and personal fortunes depended on the life of the dying monarch. He knew he needed a new patron. Why not James VI, who had always been favorable to him?

Sir Robert took it upon himself to write a letter to James of Scotland, advising the future king to stay in Edinburgh. In return, Carey promised to bring news of the Queen’s death to Scotland with all due haste. James accepted Carey’s offer, giving Lady Scrope, Sir Robert’s sister and a fixture at Elizabeth’s court, a blue ring. Carey was instructed to bring the blue ring with him to authenticate the truth of his tidings.

Being the first to deliver the good news to James of Scotland — Yes, you are king! — would be a great coup for someone seeking to climb the courtly ladder. Carey’s mistake was to seek approval from the Privy Council. The double dealing council promised to make Sir Robert their ambassador, then set into motion secret plans to send their own messenger to Scotland.

Not long after Elizabeth I died in the early morning of 24 March, Carey received warning of the council’s perfidy. The council tried to take Carey into custody, but he avoided them, and by nine o’clock that morning he had leaped upon his steed and begun his epic ride to Scotland.

162 + 136 + 49 + 50 = Yes!

Sir Robert and his horse galloped one hundred sixty-two miles before stopping for the night at Doncaster. On short sleep, he set out the next day for his own house at Widdrington in Northumberland, covering one hundred thirty-six miles. The next day, a fresh steed beneath him, Sir Robert had galloped about forty-nine miles by noon when, near Norham, he was thrown to the ground by his horse. As Carey described it, “I got a great fall by the way, and my horse with one of his heels gave me a great blow on the head that made me shed much blood.”

Injured but undeterred, Carey rode at “a softer pace” for the last fifty miles, reaching the Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh late on the night of 26 March. The Scots had to wake James VI. Carey, presenting the blue ring of Lady Scrope, kneeled and saluted James as king of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland. A day later the grateful King James made Carey a gentleman of the King’s Bedchamber.

James VI, now James I of England, immediately began to prepare for his journey south to England, his new kingdom. He departed on 5 April and arrived at London on 7 May — a month of days more on the road than Sir Robert.

The new king’s favor proved to be a mixed blessing for the ambitious horseman. Other courtiers gave him bad advice. Eventually, a whispering campaign led the king to rescind the office of Gentleman of the King’s Bedchamber.

Carey would recover from his setback, becoming governor to James I’s second son, Charles, on 23 February 1605. At that time Charles was not the heir apparent to the throne. That honor belonged to his older brother Henry, who was adored by the English nobles and the common people of the kingdom. But Prince Henry died unexpectedly in 1612, transforming Charles into the heir apparent and giving Sir Robert Carey a very important conduit to power.

James I made him Baron Carey of Lepington in 1622. Carey accompanied Prince Charles and the Duke of Buckingham on their tragi-comic adventure to negotiate the marriage of Charles to a reluctant Spanish princess. Shortly after becoming king, Charles I granted Carey the title of First Earl of Monmouth in 1626, allowing Sir Robert to surpass both his father and brother in the acquisition of title and influence.

Carey in the 1630s was an old man in his seventies during the Personal Rule of Charles I. By dying on 12 April 1639, Sir Robert avoided (quite naturally) the collapse of Charles I’s government and the outbreak of the English Civil War in 1642. Besides making a dramatic ride into the annals of history, Sir Robert Carey attained personal successes through a combination of hard work, ability, and good luck that was typical of most accomplished courtiers attending the monarchs of Tudor and Stuart England.

But there is a road from Winchester town,
A good, broad highway leading down:
And there, through the flush of the morning light,
A steed as black as the steeds of night
Was seen to pass, as with eagle flight;
As if he knew the terrible need,
He stretched away with his utmost speed.
Hills rose and fell, but his heart was gay,
With Sheridan fifteen miles away.
Still sprang from those swift hoofs, thundering south,
The dust like smoke from the cannon's mouth,
Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster,
Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster.
The heart of the steed and the heart of the master
Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls,
Impatient to be where the battle-field calls;
Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play,
With Sheridan only ten miles away.

“Sheridan’s Ride,” Thomas Buchanan Read