Among the honors done to Marlborough at this triumphant moment, when, an English duke, a prince of the Holy Roman Empire, and, still more splendid title, the greatest soldier of his time, he came home in glory to England, were the verses with which Addison saluted him. There were plenty of odes piping to all the winds in his honor, but this alone worthy of record. Every reader will recollect the simile of the great angel who “drives the furious blast;”
And, pleased the Almighty’s orders to perform, Rides in the whirlwind, and directs the storm.
The compliment might be supposed to be somewhat magnificent even for the greatest of commanders. And yet whatever Marlborough’s faults may have been, his attitude during this wonderful war is scarcely too splendidly described by the image of a calm and superior spirit beholding contemporary events from a higher altitude than that of common humanity, executing vengeance and causing destruction without either rage or fear, in serene fulfilment of a great command and in pursuance of a mighty purpose. His unbroken temper, his patience and courtesy in the midst of all contentions, the firm composure with which he supports all the burdens thrown upon him, appeals from home as well as necessities abroad, might well suggest a spirit apart, independent, not moved like lesser men. No man ever bore so many conflicting claims more calmly. Even the adjurations, the commands, the special pleadings of his “dearest soul” do not lead him a step farther than he thinks wise. “When I differ from you,” he says, “it is not that I think those are in the right whom you say are always in the wrong, but it is that I would be glad not to enter into the unreasonable reasoning of either party; for I have trouble enough for my little head in the business which of necessity I must do here.” There could not be a greater contrast than between the commotion and whirlwind that surrounds Duchess Sarah and the great general’s calm.