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tions had been overruled. He had to execute a project which he had constantly represented as impracticable. His camp was divided into hostile factions, and he was censured by all. The archduke and the prince blamed him for not proceeding instantly to take the town; but suggested no plan by which seven thousand men could be enabled to do the work of thirty thousand. Others blamed their general for giving up his own opinions to the childish wnims of Charles, and for sacrificing his men in an attempt to perform what was impossible. The Dutch commander positively declared that his soldiers should not stir: Lord Peterborough might give what orders he chose, but to engage in such a siege was madness; and the men should not be sent to certain death, where there was no chance of obtaining any advantage. At length, after three weeks of inaction, Peterborough announced his fixed determination to raise the siege. The heavy cannon were sent on board. Preparations were made for re-embarking the troops. - Charles and the Prince of Hesse were furious ; and most of the officers blamed their general for having delayed so long the measure which he had at last found necessary to take. On the 12th of September there were rejoicings and public entertainments in Barcelona for this great deliverance. On the following morning the English flag was flying on the ramparts of Monjuich. The genius and energy of one man had supplied the place of forty battalions. At midnight Peterborough had called on the Prince of Hesse, with whom he had not for some time been on speaking terms. “I have resolved, sir,” said the earl, “to attempt an assault; you may accompany us, if you think fit, and see whether I and my men deserve what you have been pleased to say of us.” The prince was startled. The attempt, he said, was hopeless; but he was ready to take his share; and without further discussion, he called for his horse. Fifteen hundred English soldiers were assembled under the earl. A thousand more had been posted as a body of reserve, at a neighbouring convent, under the command of Stanhope. After a winding march along the foot of the hills, Peterborough and his little army reached the walls of Monjuich. There they halted till daybreak. As soon as they were descried, the enemy advanced into the outer ditch to meet them. This was the event on which Peterborough had reckoned, and for which his men were prepared. The English received the fire, rushed forward, leaped into the ditch, put the Spaniards to flight, and entered the works together with the fugitives. Before the garrison had recovered from their first surprise, the earl was master of the outworks, had taken several pieces of cannon, and had thrown up a breastwork to defend his men. He then sent off for Stanhope's reserve While he was waiting for this reinforcement, news arrived that three thousand men were marching from Barcelona towards Monjnich. . He instantly rode out to take a view of them; but no sooner had he left his troops than they were seized with a panic. Their situation

was indeed full of danger; they had been brought into Monjuich, they scarcely knew how; their numbers were small; their general was gone: their hearts failed them, and they were proceeding to evacuate the fort. Peterborough received information of these occurrences in time to stop the retreat; he galloped up to the fugitives, addressed a few words to them, and put himself at their head. The sound of his voice and the sight of his face restored all their courage, and they marched back to their former position. The Prince of Hesse had fallen in the confusion of the assault, but everything else went well. Stanhope arrived, the detachment which had marched out of Barcelona retreated; the heavy cannon were disembarked, and brought to bear on the inner fortifications of Monjuich, which speedily fell. Peterborough, with his usual generosity, rescued the Spanish soldiers from the ferocity of the victorious army, and paid the last honours with great pomp to his rival the Prince of Hesse. The reduction of Monjuich was the first of a series of brilliant exploits. Barcelona fell, and Peterborough had the glory of taking, with a handful of men, one of the largest and strongest towns of Europe. He had also the glory, not less dear to his chivalrous temper, of saving the life and honour of the beautiful Duchess of Popoli, whom he met flying with dishevelled hair from the fury of her pursuers. He availed himself dexterously of the jealousy with which the Catalonians regarded the inhabitants of Castile. He guarantied to the province, in the capital of which he was quartered, all its ancient rights and liberties; and thus succeeded in attaching the population to the Austrian cause. The open country declared in favour of Charles. Tarragona, Tortosa, Gerona, Lerida, San Mateo, threw open their gates. The Spanish government sent the Count of Las Torres with seven thousand men to reduce San Mateo. The Earl of Peterborough, with only twelve hundred men, raised the siege.

His officers advised him to be content with this"

extraordinary success. Charles urged him to return to Barcelona; but no remonstrances could stop such a spirit in the midst of such a career. It was the depth of winter. The country was mountainous. The roads were almost impassable. The men were ill-clothed. The horses were knocked up. The retreating army was far more numerous than the pursuing army. But difficulties and dangers vanished before the energy of Peterborough. He pushed on, driving Las Torres betore him. Nules surrendered to the mere terror of his name; and, on the 4th of February, 1706, he arrived in triumph at Valencia. There he learned, that a body of four thousand men was on the march to join Las Torres. He set out at dead of night from Valencia, passed the Xucar, came unexpectedly on the encampment of the enemy, and slaughtered, dispersed, or took the whole reinforcement. The Valencians, as we are told by a person who was present, could scarcely believe their eyes when they saw the prisoners brought in. In the mean time the courts of Madrid and Versailles, exasperated and alarmed by the fall wf Barcelona, and by the revolt of the surroundug country, determined to make a great effort, A large army, nominally commanded by Philip, but really under the orders of Marshal Tessé, entered Catalonia. A fleet, under the Count of Toulouse, one of the natural children of Louis the Fourteenth, appeared before the port of Barcelona. The city was attacked at once by sea and land. The person of the archduke was in considerable danger. Peterborough, at the head of about three thousand men, marched with great rapidity from Valencia. To give battle with so small a force to a great regular army, under the conduct of a marshal of France, would have been madness. The earl therefore took his post on the neighbouring mountains, harassed the enemy with incessant alarms, cut off their stragglers, intercepted their communications with the interior, and introduced supplies, both of men and provisions, into the town. He saw, however, that the only hope of the besieged was on the side of the sea. His commission from the British government gave him supreme power, not only over the army, but, whenever he should be actually on board, over the navy also. He put out to sea at night in an open boat, without communicating his design to any person. He was picked up, several leagues from the shore, by one of the ships of the English squadron. As soon as he was on board, he announced himself as first in command, and sent a pinnace with his orders to the admiral. Had these orders been given a few hours earlier, it is probable that the whole French fleet would have been taken. As it was, the Count of Toulouse stood out to sea. The port was open. The town was relieved. On the following night the enemy raised the siege, and retreated to Roussillon. Peterborough returned to Walencia; and Philip, who had been some weeks absent from his wife, could endure the misery of separation no longer, and flew to rejoin her at Madrid. At Madrid, however, it was impossible for Thim or for her to remain. The splendid success which Peterborough had obtained on the eastern coast of the Peninsula, had inspired the sluggish Galway with emulation. He advanced into the heart of Spain. Berwick retreated. Alcantara, Ciudad Rodrigo, and Salamanca fell, and the conquerors marched towards the capital. Philip was earnestly pressed by his advisers to remove the seat of government to Burgos. The advanced guard of the allied army was already seen on the heights above Madrid. It was known that the main body was at hand. The unfortunate prince fled with his queen and the household. The royal wanderers, after travelling eight days on bad roads, under a burning sun, and sleeping eight nights in miserable hovels, one of which fell down and nearly crushed them both to death, reached the metropolis of Old Castile. In the mean time the invaders had entered Madrid in triumph and had proclaimed the archduke in the streets of the imperial city. Arragon, ever jealous of the Castilian ascendency, followed

than ever.

without seeing an enemy. The governor, whom Philip had set over Carthagena, betrayed his trust, and surrendered to the allies the best arsenal and the last ships which Spain possessed. Toledo had been for some time the retreat of two ambitious, turbulent, and vindictive intriguers—the queen-dowager and Cardinal Porto Carrero. They had long been deadly enemies. They had led the adverse factions of Austria and France. Each had in turn domineered over the weak and disordered mind of the late king. At length the impostures of the priest had triumphed over the blandishments of the woman; Porto Carrero had remained victorious, and the queen had fled, in shame and mortification, from the court, where she had once been supreme. In her retirement she was soon joined by him whose arts had destroyed her influence. The cardinal, having held power just long enough to convince all parties of his incompetency, had been dismissed to his see, cursing his own folly and the ingratitude of the house which he had served too well. Common interests and common enmities reconciled the fallen rivals. The Austrian troops were admitted into Toledo without opposition. The queen-dowager flung off that mourning garb which the widow of a King of Spain wears through her whole life, and blazed forth in jewels. The cardinal blessed the standards of the invaders in his magnificent cathedral, and lighted up his palace in honour of the great event. It seemed that the struggle had terminated in favour of the archduke, and that nothing remained sor Philip but a prompt flight into the dominions of his grandfather. So judged those who were ignorant of the character and habits of the Spanish people. There is no country in Europe which it is so easy to overrun as Spain; there is no country in Europe which is more disficult to conquer. Nothing can be more contemptible than the regular military resistance which it offers to an invader; nothing more formidable than the energy which it puts forth when its regular military resistance has been beaten down. Its armies have long borne too much resemblance to mobs; but its mobs have had, in an unusual degree, the spirit of armies. The soldier, as compared with other soldiers, is deficient in military qualities; but the peasant has as much of those qualities as the soldier. In to country have such strong fortresses been taken by a mere coup-de-main; in no country have unfortified towns made so furious and obstinate a resistance to great armieso War in Spain has, from the days of the Romans, had a character of its own ; it is a fire which cannot be raked out; it burns fiercely under the embers; and long after it has, to all seeming, been extinguished, bursts forth more violently This was seen in the last war. Spain had no army which could have looked in the face an equal number of French or

Prussian soldiers; but one day laid the Prus

sian monarchy in the dust; one day put the crown of France at the disposal of invaders. No Jena, no Waterloo, would have enabled The conduct of the Castilians throughout the War of the Succession was most characteristic. With all the odds of number and situation on their side, they had been ignominiously beaten. All the European dependencies of the Spanish crown were lost. Catalonia, Arragon, and Valencia had acknowledged the Austrian prince. Gibraltar had been taken by a few sailors; Barcelona stormed by a few dismounted dragoons; the invaders had penetrated into the centre of the Peninsula, and were quartered at Madrid and Toledo. While these events had been in progress, the nation had scarcely given a sign of life. The rich could not be prevailed on to give or to lend for the support of war; the troops had shown neither discipline nor courage; and now at last, when it seemed that all was lost, when it seemed that the most sanguine must relinquish all hope, the national spirit awoke, fierce, p." and unconquerable. The people had en sluggish, when the circumstances might well have inspired hope; they reserved all their energy for what appeared to be a season of despair. Castile, Leon, Andalusia, Estremadura, rose at once; every peasant procured a firelock or a pike; the allies were masters only of the ground on which they trode. No soldier could wander a hundred yards from the main body of the army without the most imminent risk of being poniarded; the country through which the conquerors had passed to Madrid, and which, as they thought, they had subdued, was all in arms behind them; their communications with Portugal were cut off. In the mean time, money began, for the first time, to flow rapidly into the treasury of the fugitive king. “The day before yesterday,” says the Princess Orsini, in a letter written at this time, “the priests of a village, which contains only a hundred and twenty houses, brought a hundred and twenty pistoles te the queen. “My flock,” said he, “are ashamed to send you so little; but they beg you to be. lieve, that in this purse there are a hundred and twenty hearts faithful even to the death.’ The good man wept as he spoke, and indeed we wept too. Yesterday another small village, in which there are only twenty houses, sent us fifty pistoles.” While the Castilians were everywhere arming in the cause of Philip, the allies were serving that cause as effectually by their mismanagement. Galway stayed at Madrid, where his soldiers indulged in such boundless licentiousness, that one-half of them were in the hospitals. Charles remained dawdling in Catalonia. Peterborough had taken Requena, and wished to march toward Madrid, and to effect a junction with Galway; but the archduke refused his consent to the plan. The indignant general remained accordingly in his favourite city, or the beautiful shores of the Mediterranean, reading Don Quixote, giving balls and suppers, trying in vain to get some good sport out of the Valencian bulls, and making love, not in vain, to the Valencian women. At length the archduke advanced into Castile, and ordered Peterborough to join him. But it was too late. Berwick had already eempelled Galway to evacuate Madrid; and

the example of Catalonia. Saragossa revolted Joseph to reign in quiet at Madrid.

when the whole force of the allies was collected at Guadalaxara, it was found to be decidedly inserior in numbers to that of the enemy. Peterborough formed a plan for regaining possession of the capital. His plan was rejected by Charles. The patience of the sensitive and vainglorious hero was worn out. He had none of that serenity of temper which enabled Marlborough to act in perfect harmony with Eugene, and to endure the vexatious 'interference of the Dutch deputies. He demanded permission to leave the army. Permission was readily granted, and he set out for Italy. That there might be some pretext for his departure, he was commissioned by the archduke to raise a loan at Genoa, on the credit of the revenues of Spain. From that moment to the end of the campaign, the tide of fortune ran strong against the Austrian cause. Berwick had placed his army between the allies and the frontiers of Portugal. They retreated on Valencia, and arrived in that province, leaving about ten thousand prisoners in the hands of the enemy. In January, 1707, Peterborough arrived at Valencia from Italy, no longer bearing a public character, but merely as a volunteer. His advice was asked, and it seems to have been most judicious. He gave it as his decided opinion, that no offensive operation against Castile ought to be undertaken. It would be easy, he said, to defend Arragon, Catalonia, and Valencia against Philip. The inhabitants of those parts of Spain were attached to the cause of the archduke; and the armies of the house of Bourbon would be resisted by the whole population. In a short time, the enthusiasm of the Castilians might abate. The government of Philip might commit unpopular acts. Defeats in the Netherlands might compel Louis to withdraw the succours which he had furnished to his grandson. Then would be the time to strike a decisive blow. This excellent advice was rejected. Peterborough, who had now received formal letters of recall from England, departed before the opening of the campaign; and with him departed the goodfortune of the allies. Scarcely any general had ever done so much with means so small. Scarcely any general had ever displayed equal originality and boldness. He possessed, in the highest degree, the art of conciliating those whom he had subdued. But he was not equally successful in winning the attachment of those with whom he acted. He was adored by the Catalonians and Valencians; but he was hated by the prince, whom he had all but made a great king; and by the generals, whose fortune and reputation were staked on the same ven ture with his own. The English government could not understand him. He was so eccentric, that they gave him no credit for the judg ment which he really possessed. One day ho took towns with horse-soldiers; then again ht turned some hundreds of infantry into cavalry at a minute's notice. He obtained his politi. cal intelligence chiefly by means of 'o'e affairs, and filled his despatches with epigrams. The ministers thought that it would be highly unpolitic to intrust the conduct of the Spanish

war to so volatile and romantic a persch, - - s

They therefore gave the command to Lord Galway, an experienced veteran—a man who was in-war what Molière's doctors were in medicine; who thought it much more honourable to fail according to rule, than to succeed by mnovation; and who would have been very much ashamed of himself if he had taken Monjuich by means so strange as those which Peterborough employed. This great commander conducted the campaign of 1707 in the most scientific manner. On the plain of Almanza he encountered the army of the Bourbons. He drew up his troops according to the methods prescribed by the best writers; and in a few hours lost eighteen thousand men, a hundred and twenty standards, all his baggage and all his artillery. Valencia and Arragon were instantly conquered by the French, and at the close of the year, the mountainous province of Catalonia was the only part of Spain which still adhered to Charles. “Do you remember, child,” says the foolish woman in the Spectator to her husband, “that the pigeon-house fell the very asternoon that our careless wench spilt the salt upon the table t” “Yes, my dear,” replies the gentleman, “and the next post brought us an account of the battle of Almanza.” The approach of disaster in Spain had been for some time indicated by omens much clearer than the mishap of the saltcellar;-an ungrateful prince, an undisciplined army, a divided council, envy triumphant over merit, a man of genius recalled, a pedant and a sluggard intrusted with supreme command. The battle of Almanza decided the fate of Spain. The loss was such as Marlborough or Eugene could scarcely have retrieved, and was certainly not to be retrieved by Stanhope and Staremberg. Stanhope, who took the command of the English army in Catalonia, was a man of respectable abilities, both in military and civil affairs: but fitter, we conceive, for a second than for a first place. Lord Mahon, with his usual candour, tells us, what we believe was not known before, that his ancestor's most distinguished exploit, the conquest of Minorca, was suggested by Marlborough. Staremberg, a cold and methodical tactician of the German scnool, was sent by the emperor to command .n Catalonia. Two languid campaigns followed, during which neither of the hostile armies did any thing memorable; but, during which, both were nearly starved. At length, in 1710, the chiefs of the allied forces resolved to venture on bolder measures. They began the campaign with a daring move; pushed into Arragon, defeated the troops of Philip at Almenara, defeated them again at Saragossa, and advanced to Madrid. The king was again a fugitive The Castilians sprang to arms with the same enthusiasm which they inad displayed in 1706. The conquerors found the capital a desert. The people shut themselves up in their houses, and refused to pay any mark of respect to the Austrian prince. It was necessary to hire a few children to shout hefore -him in the streets. Meanwhile, the court of Philip at Walladolid was thronged by nobles and prelates. Thirty thousand people followed their king from Madrid to his new

residence. Women of rank, rather than remain behind, performed the journey on foot. |The peasants enlisted by thousands. Money, arms, and provisions were supplied in abundance by the zeal of the people. The country round Madrid was infested by small parties of irregular horse. The allies could not send off a despatch to Arragon, or introduce a supply of provisions into the capital. It was unsafe for the archduke to hunt in the immediate vicinity of the palace which he occupied. The wish of Stanhope was to winter in Castile. But he stood alone in the council of war; and, indeed, it is not easy to understand how the allies could have maintained themselves through so unpropitious a season, in the midst of so hostile a population. Charles, whose personal safety was the first object of the generals, was sent with an escort of cavalry to Catalonia, in November; and, in December, the army commenced its retreat towards Arragon. But the allies had to do with a master-spirit. The King of France had lately sent the Duke of Wendome to command in Spain. This man was distinguished by the filthiness of his person, by the brutality of his demeanour, by the gross buffoonery of his conversation, and by the impudence with which he abandoned himself to the most nauseous of all vices. His sluggishness was almost incredible. Even when engaged in a campaign, he often passed whole days in his bed. His strange torpidity had been the cause of some of the most severe defeats which the French had sustained in Italy and Flanders. But when he was roused by any great emergency, his resources, his energy, and his presence of mind were such as had been found in no French general since the days of Luxembourg. At this crisis, Wendome was all himself. He set out from Talavera with his troops; and pursued the retreating army of the allies with a speed, perhaps never equalled, in such a season and in such a country. He marched night and day. He swam, at the head of his cavalry, the flooded stream of Henares; and, in a few days, overtook Stanhope, who was at Brihuega with the left wing of the allied army. “Nobody with me,” says the English general, “imagined that they had any foot within some days' march of us: and our misfortune is owing to the incredible diligence which their army made.” Stanhope had but just time to send off a messenger to the centre of the army, which was some leagues from Brihuega, before Vendome was upon him. The town was invested on every side. The walls were battered with cannon. A mine was sprung under one of the gates. The English § up a terrible fire till their powder was spent. They then fought desperately with the bayonet against overwhelming odds. They burned the houses which the assailants had taken. But all was to no purpose. The British ge-neral saw that resistance could produce only a useless carnage. He concluded a capitula tion, and his gallant little army became prisoners of war on honourable terms. | Scarcely had Vendome signed the capitulaition, when he learned that Staremberg was

norching to the relief of Stanhope. Preparations were instantly made for a general action. On the day following that on which the English had delivered their arms, was fought the obstinate and bloody battle of Villa Viciosa. Staremberg remained master of the field. Wendome reaped all the fruits of the engagement. The allies spiked their cannon, and retired towards Arragon. But even in Arragon they found ...o place of rest. Vendome was behind them. The guerilla parties were around them. They fled to Catalonia; but Catalonia was invaded by a French army from Roussillon. At length the Austrian general with six thousand harassed and dispirited, men, the remains of a great and victorious army, took refuge in Barcelona; almost the only place in Spain which recognised the authority of Charles. Philip was now much safer at Madrid than his grandfather at Paris. All hope of conquering Spain in Spain was at an end. But in other quarters the house of Bourbon was reduced to the last extremity. The French armies had undergone a series of defeats in Germany, in Italy, and in the Netherlands. An immense force, flushed with victory, and commanded by the greatest generals of the age, was on the borders of France. Louis had been forced to humble himself before the conquerors. He had even offered to abandon the cause of his grandson; and his offer had been rejected. But a great turn in affairs was approaching. The English administration, which had commenced the war against the house of Bourbon, was an administration composed of Tories. But the war was a Whig war. It was the favourite scheme of William, the Whig king. Louis had provoked it, by recognising, as sovereign of England, a prince peculiarly hateful to the Whigs. It had placed England in a position of marked hostility to that power, from which alone the Pretender could expect sufficient succour. It had joined England in the closest union to a Protestant and republican state; a state which had assisted in bringing about the Revolution, and which was willing to guaranty the execution of the Act of Settlement. Marlborough and Godolphin found that they were more zealously supported by their old opponents than by their old associates. Those ministers who were zealous for the war were gradually converted to Whigism. The rest dropped off, and were succeeded by Whigs. Cowper became Chancellor. Sunderland, in spite of the very just antipathy of Anne, was made Secretary of State. On the death of the Prince of Denmark, a more extensive change took place. Wharton became Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and Somers Presi§ent of the Council. At length the administration was wholly in the hands of the Low Church party. In the year 1710, a violent change took place. The queen had always been a Tory at heart. Her religious feelings were all on the side of the Established Church. Her family feelings pleaded in favour of her exiled brother. Her interest disposed her to favour the zealots of prerogative. The affection which

she felt for the Duchess of Marlborough was

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the greatest security of the Whigs. Thai affection had at length turned to deadly aver. sion. While the great party which had long swayed the destinies of Europe was undermined by bedchamber-women at St. James's, a violent storm gathered in the country. A foolish parson had preached a foolish sermon against the principles of the Revolution. The wisest members of the government were for letting the man alone. But Godolphin, inflamed with all the zeal of a new-made Whig, and exasperated by a nickname which was applied to him in this unfortunate discourse, insisted that the preacher should be impeached. The exhortations of the mild and sagacious Somers were disregarded. The impeachment was brought; the doctor was convicted; and the accusers were ruined. The clergy came to the rescue of the persecuted clergyman. The country gentlemen came to the rescue of the clergy. A display of Tory feelings, such as England had not witnessed since the closing days of Charles the Second's reign, appalled the ministers, and gave boldness to the queen. She turned out the Whigs, called Harley and St. John to power, and dissolved the Parliament. The elections went strongly against the late government. Stanhope, who had in his absence been put in nomination for Westminster, was defeated by a Tory candidate.

The new ministers, finding themselves masters.

of the new Parliament, were induced by the strongest motives to conclude a peace with France. The whole system of alliance in which the country was engaged was a Whig system. The general by whom the English armies had constantly been led to victory, and for whom, it was impossible to find a substitute, was now, whatever he might formerly have been, a Whig general. If Marlborough were discarded, it was probable that some great disaster would follow. Yet, if he were to retain his command, every great action which he might perform would raise the credit of the party in opposition. *A peace was therefore concluded between England and the princes of the house of Bour bon. Of that peace Lord Mahon speaks in terms of the severest reprehension. He is indeed, an excellent Whig of the time of the first Lord Stanhope. “I cannot but pause for a moment,” says he, “to observe how much the course of a century has inverted the mean ing of our party nicknames; how much a modern Tory resembles a Whig of Queen Anne's reign, and a Tory of Queen Anne's reign a modern Whig.” We grant one-half of Lord Mahon's propost tion; from the other half we altogether dissent We allow that a modern Tory resembles, in many things, a Whig of Queen Anne's reign. It is natural that such should be the case. The worst things of one age or nation often resemble the best things of another. The livery of an English footman outshines the royal robes of King Pomarre. A modern shopkeeper's house is as well furnished as the house of a

considerable merchant in Anne's reign. Very plain people now wear finer cloth than Beau Fielding or Beau Făgworth could have pro cured in Queen Anne's reign. We wou."

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