Indeed, the Battle of Lissa, considered in its details, shows that success on the sea, as well as on land, is primarily a question of brave and competent leadership. Good officers are the first condition of naval success; well-trained and disciplined crews the second; powerful ships are the third. Public opinion is often so ill informed as to put in the first place what really stands last; but none of these elements of naval power can be safely neglected by a maritime State, and one which claims the Empire of the Sea must spare no effort to possess all three, and to possess them in abundance. [Illustration: MACMAHON AT MAGENTA BY STODDARD DEWEY] It was noon of the 4th of June, 1859, before the French general, Trochu, at the head of his division, could move out in turn from Novara along the high road leading to Milan across the river Ticino. The Emperor, Napoleon III., was commanding in person the united French and Italian armies. He had gone on ahead, and was himself preceded by several divisions of the French troops. It was known, in a general way, that the Austrian enemy was not far distant to the south and eastward beyond the river. An attack was expected, but it was uncertain where it would be made. Suddenly the noise of cannon was heard from the front, several miles away. It went on steadily increasing. “What is the meaning of that?” inquired Trochu of an officer he met watering his horse by the roadside. “At first we thought it was a fight,” was the answer; “but it is only General Lebœuf trying his cannon.” “Cannon would not thunder like that under trial,” replied Trochu. “Those guns are loaded with something heavier than powder.” He hastened the march of his troops with not a little anxiety. Soon another officer, in the sky-blue uniform which marked the personal staff of the Emperor, dashed up. “Ah, General, what a fearful surprise! The Emperor has been attacked by the Austrians when he least expected them. We are all but beaten.” “Where is MacMahon?” asked the General. “MacMahon had orders to march forward, no matter what happened, to the church-tower of Magenta.” “Then nothing is yet lost. MacMahon is not a Cæsar, but he is stubborn. If he has been told to march on the tower of Magenta, he will reach it in spite of all. And then it is we who shall have outflanked the Austrian army.” Several hours passed before the guns of MacMahon made themselves heard. It was late at night before the Emperor learned what MacMahon and his men had been doing. Generals and soldiers, wearied out with the afternoon’s bloody fighting by the river, could not believe that a great victory had been won in the evening without them over by Magenta. In the morning, when they looked for the battle to be renewed, they found that the enemy was indeed drawing off, sullen and beaten.