Patriotism and loyalty prevailed over rancor and jealousy, and the king succeeded in obtaining the services of the duke for the difficult negotiations which were about to be undertaken. "I ought to say to you that the welfare and repose of Europe depend upon your negotiations with Tallard," said the king. "You cannot be ignorant of the fact that there is no one else in England whom I can employ. Finally, it is impossible and even prejudicial to my dignity that this negotiation between Tallard and myself should be delayed. I hope that after reflecting seriously you will come here prepared to terminate, if possible, this important business."
On the 13th and 15th of May, 1700, after long hesitation and obstinate resistance on the part of the city of Amsterdam, the second Treaty of Partition was signed at London and at the Hague. Spain angrily protested against the pretensions of the powers to regulate a succession which was not yet in abeyance; she recalled her ambassador from England. The emperor expected to obtain a will in favor of the Archduke Charles, his second son. King William regarded the maintenance of the equilibrium between the two houses of France and Austria, as indispensable to the repose of Europe. "The King of England acts with good faith in everything," wrote Tallard to Louis XIV.; "his way of dealing is upright and sincere. He is proud, one could not be more so; but he is at the same time modest, although no one could be more jealous of all that pertains to his rank."
The Treaty of Partition assured to the Dauphin all the possessions of Spain in Italy, save the Milanese territory, which was to indemnify the Duke of Lorraine, whose duchy passed to France. Spain, the Indies and the Low Countries were to go to the Archduke Charles. The anger was great at Vienna when the news arrived that the Treaty had been signed. "Behold our good friends," said the Count Harrach to Villars, the French ambassador; "is that the way they distribute other people's property? England and Holland think only of their own interests. What will they do with Flanders, and how will they preserve the Indies without a navy? The archduke may thank the King for Spain, but will be dependent upon England and Holland for the Indies."—"Fortunately," said Kaunitz, "there is one above who will interfere with these partitions."—"That one," replied Villars, "will approve of what is just."—"It is something new for a King of England and Holland to divide the monarchy of Spain," said the count.—"Permit me, Monsieur le Comte," replied Villars: "These two powers have recently carried on a war which has cost them much, but which has cost the emperor nothing; for in fact you have only borne the expense of the war against the Turks; you have a few troops in Italy, and in the empire there are only two regiments of hussars which are not in your service; England and Holland alone have borne all the burden."
The anger of the emperor subsided, but that of the German princes, the Elector of Bavaria at their head, was still to give much trouble to King William. On the 1st of November, 1700, it was suddenly announced, in Europe, that Charles II., delicate from his birth, and for many years on the point of death, had finally expired at Madrid, and that by a will of the 2nd of October, he had disposed of the crown in favor of the Duke of Anjou, grandson of Louis XIV.
This will was the work of the Spanish Council, at the head of which was the Cardinal of Porto-Carrero. "The National party detested the Austrians because they had been so long in Spain, and they loved the French because they were not yet there; the former had had time to weary them by their domination, while the latter had been served by their very absence." The integrity of the Spanish monarchy was the great pre-occupation of the dying king, as well as of his subjects. "We will go to the Dauphin; we will go to the devil, if necessary; but we will all go together," said the Spanish politicians. Pope Innocent XII. favored France. Louis XIV. alone, appeared able to defend himself against combined Europe. On the 16th of November, 1700, he solemnly accepted the will.
The surprise of William III. was equal to his anger. "I do not doubt," wrote he to Heinsius, "that this unheard of proceeding on the part of France, causes you as much surprise as it does myself. I have never had great confidence in any engagements contracted with France, but I must confess that I never imagined that that court would break so solemn a treaty, in the face of all Europe, even before it was fulfilled. Admit that we have been duped; but when, in advance, one is resolved not to keep faith, it is not difficult to deceive the other. I shall probably be blamed for having trusted France; I, who ought to have known by the experience of the past, that no treaty is binding upon her. Please God that I may be acquitted from all blame, but I have too many reasons for fearing that the fatal consequences will soon be felt. It grieves me to the heart that almost every one rejoices that France has preferred the will to the Treaty, and also because the will is believed to be more advantageous to England and to Europe. This judgment is founded in part upon the youth of the Duke of Anjou. He is a child, it is said, and will be educated in Spain; the principles of that monarchy will be inculcated in him, and he will be governed by the Council of Spain; but these are anticipations which it is impossible to admit, and I fear that soon we will see how erroneous they are. Does it not seem that the profound indifference with which the people of this country regard all that which takes place beyond this island, may be a punishment from heaven? Nevertheless, are not our interests and our appreciations the same as those of the people of the continent?"
The Holland merchants, as well as the English statesmen, were deceived regarding the consequences of the event which had just been accomplished. "Public credit and stocks have risen in Amsterdam," wrote Heinsius to the King of England, "and although there is no valid reason for this, yet your Majesty well knows the influence of such a fact."
In this critical situation, with Europe on the eve of a new war, of which his foresight and prudence divined the duration and violence, William III. found himself, in England, confronted by an opposition growing each day more bold, and which during two years past had systematically obstructed his government. The Whigs were yet in power, but Russell, now become Duke of Orford, had retired, offended by a parliamentary inquiry; Montague had abdicated his offices for a rich sinecure. Assured of his fall by the implacable enmity of the Tories, and by the visible decline of his influence in the houses, the eloquent and esteemed Somers, although Lord Chancellor, was fatigued and sick—worn out by the constant struggle. A grave conflict threatened the union of the two houses, as well as the good understanding of Parliament with the monarch. A commission had been appointed by the Commons, to examine into the distribution of goods confiscated after the war in Ireland. "This commission will give us trouble next winter," said the king. On opening the session of Parliament, his words were as dignified as conciliatory: "Since, then," said he, "our aims are only for the general good, let us act with confidence in one another, which will not fail, by God's blessing, to make me a happy king, and you a great and flourishing people."
Human passions envenom the best intentions, and corrupt the most sincere souls. William was accused of feeling intense distrust of his Parliament; his most intimate counsellors were personally attacked. Burnet, the preceptor of the little Duke of Gloucester, only surviving son of the Princess Anne, was insulted, as well as Somers. When the report concerning the confiscations was finally presented in Parliament, the gifts accorded to the Dutch favorites and to the Countess of Orkney (formerly, when Elizabeth Villiers, devotedly attached to the Prince of Orange), were violently attacked. "We were sent here to fly in the king's face," said the partisans of the report. William III. was at the same time reproached for the indulgence he had shown towards the Irish. A part of the property confiscated had been restored to the despoiled families. "All has been given to Dutch favorites, to French refugees and Irish papists," it was said. Carried away by leaders as violent as imprudent, the Commons annulled all the royal grants, and joined to this arbitrary and unjust bill, a law regulating the land tax for the following year. This move compelled the House of Lords either to pass both bills or to reject both, in defiance of the financial needs of the state. "Affairs are very bad in Parliament," wrote the king to Heinsius; "I say this to you with a deep feeling of grief, and filled with apprehension that this will end badly some day. You can have no idea what these men are; it is necessary to live in the midst of them and to be acquainted with every circumstance, in order to judge of them."
The wisdom of the House of Lords, and the prudence of the king, prevailed against the violence of party struggles in the Commons. The peers passed the bill, but not without protest and attempted amendments, which, however, were rejected; the king gave it his sanction, but the same day that the lower house voted that his Majesty be supplicated not to admit foreigners into his councils, Parliament was prorogued to the second of June. For the first time William did not close Parliament with an address. "Parliament was finally prorogued, yesterday," wrote he, to Holland: "I have never seen a session more vexatious. After having committed many blunders and more extravagances, they separated amidst great confusion; their intrigues are incomprehensible to any one who is not in the midst of them; a description of them is quite impossible." The king had likewise wisely demanded the seals of Lord Somers. The Tories were triumphant, but they failed to seriously disturb the equilibrium of the Constitution; they had struck a blow against justice, as well as against the royal prerogatives, and the privileges of the House of Lords. "They have entered a dangerous path," says Mr. Hallam; "they will be arrested by that force which has always maintained among us the equilibrium of the powers, the reflective opinion of a free people opposed to flagrant innovations, and soon shocked by the violence of party passions."
The death of the little Duke of Gloucester, on the 30th of July, 1700, threw an additional obstacle in the path of King William. His health was much broken, and for some time past public opinion in Europe had been seriously concerned regarding him, even questioning his survival of the King of Spain. The hopes of the Jacobites began to revive. The question was raised regarding the advisability of bringing the Prince of Wales to England, in order to educate him there in the Protestant religion; this sentiment also weighed upon Parliament, when, at the opening of the session of 1701, the Houses declared that in order to maintain the inheritance of the crown of England in a Protestant family, the throne should descend, in default of issue of William or the Princess Anne, to the Princess Sophia, Electress of Hanover, granddaughter of King James I., and her Protestant descendants. The great principle of hereditary monarchy was thus protected, but it was subordinated to the superior principle of religious faith; a bond of union necessary between the prince and his people, and the lack of which rendered the succession of the last heir of the Stuarts impossible. In the midst of the stormy session of 1701, while the dissatisfaction of Parliament with the Treaty of Partition was still intense, and while the trials of Portland, Orford, Somers, and Halifax (formerly Edward Montague), were in progress. King William had the consolation of seeing assured for the future those liberties and that religion which he had defended at the price of so many efforts, often so poorly recompensed. The upper house boldly declared the innocence of the accused nobles William had retained upon the list of Privy Councillors. He was wearied of party strife, exposed as he was to the anger and the attacks of all factions. "All the difference between them," said he, "is, that the Tories will cut my throat in the morning, while the Whigs will wait until afternoon."
The national sentiment of England, and the fears excited by the attitude of France, gained for him the strength and the popularity which the political complications and the unjust violence of parties had deprived him of.
Louis XIV. took possession in the name of his grandson of the seven barrier cities of the Spanish Netherlands, that the Holland troops had occupied in virtue of the peace of Ryswick. "The instructions that the Elector of Bavaria, governor of the Low Countries, had given to the different commandants of the places, were so well executed," says M. de Vault, in his report of the campaign of Flanders, "that we entered without opposition." The Dutch troops hastened to depart for their own country, and official relations between the States-General and France were broken off at once. King William realized the full importance of this first blow. "For twenty-eight years I have worked without relaxation, sparing neither trouble nor perils, in order to preserve this barrier to the republic," wrote he to Heinsius, on the 8th of February, 1701, "and behold all is lost in a single day, and without striking even a blow." And on the 31st of May: "I see that it is necessary to devote my entire attention to the war; and although, in the eyes of the entire world, I seem to desire war, yet there is no one perhaps who is more anxious to avoid it; but to live without security, and to only exist by the mercy of France, is the worst evil that could befall us."
The States-General made an appeal to England, and public opinion communicating its impulse to Parliament, induced the houses to vote considerable subsidies, increasing the naval forces to thirty thousand men, and deciding that ten thousand auxiliary troops should be sent to Holland immediately. William entrusted the command to the Duke of Marlborough, and he himself went to the continent in the beginning of July. The Count of Avaux was recalled from the Hague. "We flattered ourselves," said William III., "that we should see our States flourishing under the shadow of a long peace, but the affairs of Europe have changed their aspect. All nations bordering upon France are menaced: our repose then would be, at the least, as fatal to our kingdoms as to our allies."
On the 7th of September, 1701, the Grand Alliance between England, the States-General, and the Empire, as signed, for the second time, at the Hague. The powers engaged not to lay down their arms until they had reduced the possessions of King Philip V. to Spain and the Indies, re-established the barrier of Holland, assured an indemnity to Austria, and accomplished the definitive separation of the two crowns of France and Spain.
Prince Eugene of Savoy—Carignan, son of the Count of Soissons and of Olympia Mancini, began hostilities in Italy at the head of Austrian troops. Catinat met with grave reverses; Marshal Villeroi was placed in command of the armies of Louis XIV. The Duke of Savoy bore the title of his Generalissimo. In less than one year, he in his turn joined the grand alliance, notwithstanding the union of his daughters with the Duke of Bourgoyne and the King of Spain. For the second time William aroused all Europe against the inordinate ambition of France.
Negotiations were nevertheless being carried on, and the armies which were silently forming yet awaited the results of diplomatic efforts. King Louis XIV. destroyed with his own hands the last hopes of peace. On Good Friday (1701), James II., the deposed King of England, suffered an attack of paralysis; the waters of Bourbon, for a time, revived him. On the 13th of September, 1701, he was attacked for the second time, and immediately demanded the sacraments. Notwithstanding the irregularities of his private life, he was sincerely and piously attached to the faith which had cost him so dear. He exhorted the courtiers who surrounded his dying bed, and he begged Lord Middleton, the only Protestant who had remained faithful to him, to become a convert to the Catholic faith. He bade his son farewell. "I am about to leave this world, which has been for me a sea of tempests and storms," said he; "the Almighty has judged well in visiting me with great afflictions. Serve him with your whole heart, and never put the crown of England in the balance with your eternal salvation." Amidst the errors and criminal faults of his life, the only redeeming trait of his character was that he himself practised, during his life, the principles which he bequeathed his son. Philip II. once said: "I would sacrifice all my kingdoms to the defence of the Catholic faith": James II., more feeble and less shrewd, had risked and lost all in the struggle with a free people and an established religion.
Visit Of Louis XIV. To The Death-bed Of James II.
James II. was dying at Saint Germain. Louis XIV. visited him twice, surrounding him, even to the last moment, with the most delicate attentions. On the 20th of September, the king, accompanied by a splendid retinue, entered the chamber of the invalid. James opened his eyes, and immediately closed them again. "Let no one withdraw," said the monarch. "I have something to say to your Majesty. Whenever it shall please God to take you from us, I will be to your son what I have been to you; and will acknowledge him as King of England, Scotland and Ireland."
The English exiles, who were standing around the couch, fell on their knees. Some burst into tears, some poured forth praises and blessings. "That evening, at Marley, there was only applause and praise," says St. Simon: "the act was applauded, but the reflections of some were not less prompt, although less public. The king still flattered himself that he could prevent Holland and England, upon whom the former was so absolutely dependent, from breaking with him in favor of the House of Austria. He counted upon an early termination of the Italian war, as well as the settlement of the Spanish succession, which the Emperor was unable to dispute with his own forces, or even with those of the empire. Nothing then could be more contradictory to this position, and to the recognition, which he had solemnly declared at the peace of Ryswick, of the Prince of Orange as King of England. It was to wound the Prince of Orange in the tenderest point; and all England as well as Holland with him, without this recognition being of any solid advantage to the Prince of Wales."
William III. was at table in his chateau at Dieren, in Holland, when he learned the news. Always master of himself, he said not a word, but his pale cheek flushed, and he pulled his hat over his eyes to conceal his countenance. Accurately informed of the state of affairs in France, and of the most secret intrigues of that court, he had foreseen the resolution of Louis XIV. Some days before he wrote to Heinsius on the subject of a projected mission to Versailles: "I find myself greatly inconvenienced since the news has arrived from France, that it is resolved, in case King James dies, to recognize his pretended son as King of England. This obliges me to cut short all correspondence with France, and even to come to extremities with her." Lord Manchester, the ambassador of William III. in France, immediately received orders to depart without taking leave. In vain M. de Torcy, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, strongly opposed to the position Louis XIV. had assumed, attempted to offer some explanations. He received from the ambassador the following note:
"Monsieur: The king my master being informed that his most Christian Majesty has recognized another king of Great Britain, does not believe that his glory and service permit him to retain any longer an ambassador near the king your master; and he has sent me orders to retire immediately, of which I have the honor of informing you by this note."
Some days later the States-General sent the same order to their envoy M. de Heemskirk.
All England was roused; the Whigs and the Tories shared the same feeling of anger. "All the English," says Torcy, in his Memoirs, "unanimously regard it as a mortal offence, that France has pretended to arrogate to herself the right of giving them a king, to the prejudice of him whom they have themselves called and recognized these many years." When William arrived in England, on the 4th of November, 1701, addresses poured in from all parts of the country; he was too feeble to endure the fatigues of a reception, and in consequence went direct to Hampton Court, without stopping at London. Henceforth, well assured of the great change that had taken place in public opinion, he published, on the 11th of November, the order for the dissolution of Parliament "I pray God that he may bless the resolution which your Majesty has taken of convoking a new Parliament," wrote Heinsius, on the 15th.
When the houses re-assembled, on the 30th of December, 1701, the Tories had lost much ground in the Commons; they succeeded, however, in electing Robert Harley as speaker. On the 2nd of January, 1702, the king himself opened the session. The change in his appearance was very decided; he coughed much: "I have not a year to live," he said to Portland. The vigor of his mind and of his soul, however, triumphed over his physical weaknesses. In his last great speech from the throne, he said that he was assured that they had assembled there, full of that just sentiment of the danger which threatened Europe, and of that resentment towards the King of France for the step that he had taken, which had been so generally manifested by the loyal addresses of the people. The recognition of the pretended Prince of Wales as King of England was not only the highest indignity that could be offered himself and the nation; but it so nearly concerned every man who had a regard for the Protestant religion, or the present and future quiet and happiness of his country, that he earnestly exhorted them to lay it seriously to heart, and to determine what effectual means might be employed to assure the Protestant succession, and to put an end to the hopes of all pretenders, as well as their secret and declared adherents. The king then announced that he had concluded several alliances, to protect the independence of Europe, the conditions of which had been communicated to them. "It is fit I should tell you," continued he, "that the eyes of all Europe are upon this Parliament; all matters are at a stand till your resolutions are known, and therefore no time ought to be lost. You have yet an opportunity, by God's blessing, to secure to you and your posterity the quiet enjoyment of your religion and liberties, if you are not wanting to yourselves, but will exert the ancient vigor of the English nation; but I tell you, plainly, my opinion is, if you do not lay hold on this occasion, you have no reason to hope for another." He called upon them to provide a great strength upon land and sea, that they lend to the allies all the assistance in their power, and show towards the enemies of England and the adversaries of her religion, her liberty, her government, and the king that she had chosen, all the hatred that they merited.
This speech, principally the work of Somers, more eloquent and more impassioned than were ordinarily the simple and grave words of King William, deeply aroused national sympathy. The addresses of the two houses no longer reflected the clouds which had so recently darkened the political horizon. The subsidies and army levies voted were equal to the public needs. "The courier this evening will inform you of the good resolutions which were taken yesterday and the day before in the two houses," wrote the king to Heinsius; "one could not desire a more satisfactory result. May the Almighty vouchsafe his blessing to all that follows."
The death of William was sudden and premature. William of Orange was fifty-one years of age: for thirty years he had borne upon his shoulders the weight of the destinies of his native country, and for nearly twenty years he had been the only man in Europe, who had resisted, obstinately and with success, the encroachments of France. The supreme moment of the great struggle had arrived; the fruits of so many efforts and of so much perseverance, fell from the courageous hands which had so long labored for them. When the King of England felt himself dying, he, disguised as a priest, had consulted Fagon. When that celebrated physician of Louis XIV. bluntly replied to him, that the curé had better prepare for death, William threw aside his disguise; and the advice that Fagon then gave him, it is said, prolonged his life. An accident hastened the progress of his malady. On the 20th of February, 1702, William was riding in the park of Hampden Court, when his favorite horse Sorrel stumbled and fell. The king was thrown, and broke his collar-bone. He was carried to the palace; and now fully realized that his time was short. He sent to Parliament a message recommending the union of England and Scotland. He had thought much of it, he said, and he believed this measure necessary for the happiness and security of the two kingdoms, for the European equilibrium, and for the liberty of all Protestant states.
The houses received with uncovered heads the last act which William signed with his own hand. Many laws awaited his approval, and it became necessary to engrave a stamp to imitate the royal signature. After some days of convalescence, fatal symptoms appeared; the king recognized them, and was not deceived for a single instant. He had said before to Bentinck: "You know that I never feared death: there have been times when I should have wished it: but, now that this great new prospect is opening before me, I do wish to stay here a little longer." This indomitable soul had always known how to submit to the hand of God, and he accepted His will without a murmur. "I know that you have done all that skill and learning could do for me," said he to his physicians; "but the case is beyond your art, and I submit."
He had sent his favorite, Albemarle, to Holland, charged to arrange with Heinsius regarding the preparations for the war; and as though by a prophetic instinct, he had sent by his messenger a last token of affection to the friend and faithful servant who had so ably seconded him in his policy. "I am infinitely concerned to learn that your health is not yet quite re-established," wrote he to Heinsius; "May God be pleased to grant you a speedy recovery. I am unalterably your good friend, William."
Albemarle returned, bringing from Heinsius the most satisfactory assurances. When he appeared before his master, who had ordered him to take some repose after his long and rapid journey, the king calmly said to him: "I am fast drawing to my end." He received the exhortations and consolations of the Bishops; Tennison and Burnet did not leave his pillow; he affirmed his constant faith in the Christian truths, and demanded the Communion. After the ceremony was finished, the dying man could scarcely speak a word. The Duke of Portland, twice summoned by letters which he had never received, finally entered the chamber. William took the hand of his friend and pressed it to his heart. An instant before he had said to his physicians, with a shadow of impatience: "Can this last long?" They shook their heads. He closed his eyes and gasped for breath. On the 16th of March, 1702, between the hours of seven and eight in the morning, William of Orange yielded his soul to God.
When his remains were laid out, it was found that he wore next to his heart a lock of Queen Mary's hair, and the wedding ring which he had taken from her dying hand. Europe lost her great leader, and England her great king. The supreme impulse had nevertheless been given in Europe as well as in England; the alliance against Louis XIV. was formed, and became each day stronger and more united. Amidst the bitterness of parliamentary struggles, and notwithstanding the culpable violence of parties, the parliamentary régime, political liberty, and the Protestant religion, were henceforth secured to England.
William of Orange might rest—his work was accomplished.
Chapter XXXIII.
Queen Anne
War Of The Spanish Succession
(1702-1714).
"The master workman was dead," says Burke, "but his work had been conceived according to the true principles of art, and it had been executed in his mind." William of Orange was dead; after a reign incessantly contested, unpopular and stormy, scarcely had he breathed his last, when all he had done, and desired, was attacked, censured and disputed on every side. The edifice, however, was too firmly constructed, was founded upon moral principles too true, and based upon political necessities too serious, for the storms of party passion to overthrow. The coalition of Europe was to survive the loss of its chief; the liberties of England were forever delivered from the yoke of the Stuarts.
Queen Anne was proclaimed without opposition, and but few even of the Jacobites affected any astonishment at seeing her ascend the unoccupied throne. Their prince was still a child, and the last act to which William III. had put his hand was a bill of attainder against the Pretender, as King James III. of the Court of St. Germain began to be called in England. The queen had successively lost her seventeen children; the hope of the Jacobites changed its nature, and henceforth they confidently awaited the future.
Anne was thirty-seven years old, her health was poor and her intelligence limited; she was honest, and sincerely attached to the Church of England. Although naturally good and universally popular, grand views or great political and moral considerations were foreign to her; she never comprehended them, and allowed herself constantly to be controlled by some favorite that she frequently changed for frivolous reasons or caprices of management. These favorites were of both parties, but she showed a marked predilection for the Tories. The Whigs long governed during her reign, and to them belongs the honor of having continued the work begun by William III. Queen Anne, however, always regarded them with aversion and distrust. In the depths of her soul she had remained attached to the house of her father; her Protestant faith alone separated her from that brother whose birth she had stigmatized. She was timid, yet at the same time obstinate, indolent, and passionately attached to her royal prerogatives; unable to strike a great blow against public sentiment, but henceforth the mistress of England by the preponderant action of the House of Commons. Her favorites, all powerful while they were around her, had to learn the limit of their influence; their personal faults, and the grave errors of their conduct, were not the only reasons that led to the fall of the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough. Soon constrained to rely upon the Whigs, as they alone seriously desired the war, Marlborough, but recently Tory and half Jacobite, was to fall with them.
Queen Anne.
Marlborough was still counted among the Tories, when Anne ascended the throne; he shared with Lord Godolphin the political confidence of the queen. The Duchess of Marlborough, haughty, violent and avaricious, naturally powerful and domineering, as well over her husband as over the queen, was the intimate friend of this little council. The influence of the Duke of Marlborough, as well as public sentiment, induced Anne to favor the war and fulfil England's engagements. The first speech from the throne clearly announced her resolution to continue, on this subject, the policy of King William III. "We cannot encourage our allies too much in their efforts to destroy the enormous power of France." Marlborough was sent as envoy extraordinary to the Hague, to assure the States-General of the intentions of the queen. As skilful a negotiator as he was great as a general, he knew from the first how to gain the confidence of Heinsius, and to give to the European powers a firm assurance of the maintenance of the Grand Alliance. On the 4th of May, 1702, a declaration of war was simultaneously promulgated at London, Vienna, and the Hague. Marlborough was appointed general-in-chief of the combined English and Dutch forces. After his first campaign upon the Meuse, although the successes were very insignificant, Anne raised him to the rank of Duke. She overwhelmed her favorite with the most lucrative offices. Finally, to perpetuate the splendor of his house, she demanded that parliament confer, with the title which she had given to the illustrious general, a pension of £5,000. The houses refused. The queen multiplied her personal favors; accepted with repugnance, or magnanimously refused at first, and subsequently reclaimed with avidity. When, in 1712, the Duchess of Marlborough had forever lost the favor of the queen, she demanded and obtained all the arrears of a pension of £2,000 that she had refused from the privy purse of the queen in 1702.
I have not endeavored to recount in detail the campaigns of the Duke of Marlborough, and the continual efforts that he made to obtain the assistance of the allied powers, as well as to control and harmonize their diverse and contradictory wills. Under an amiable and seductive exterior, Marlborough possessed by nature a character calm and impassive. He had not only to struggle against the obstinacy and patriotic restlessness of the Dutch, which all the zeal and authority of Heinsius could not control, but also against the slowness of the emperor and the intestine quarrels of the empire. The campaign of 1703 was constantly hindered by these petty jealousies. At the beginning of the year 1704, the general wrote to Godolphin: "I augur so ill of this campaign that I am extremely discouraged. May God's will be done, but I have great reasons for anxiety. In all the other campaigns I saw something definite for the common cause; this year all that I am able to hope is that some fortunate accident may permit me to arrive at a good result." Nevertheless it was in the same year, 1704, that Marlborough, in the 54th year of his age, laid the foundations of his glory.
The French commander, Marshal Villars, a braggart and a boaster, but bold, ingenious and resolute, had gained some successes in the preceding campaign. In 1704 he was detained in France by the Camisard insurrection. Marshals Tallard and Marsin commanded the French armies in Germany, and these were reinforced by the Elector of Bavaria. The emperor, threatened by a new insurrection, recalled Prince Eugene from Italy, where the Duke of Savoy had abandoned Louis XIV. and joined the Grand Alliance; and Marlborough united his forces with those of the prince by a rapid march, that Marshal Villeroi endeavored in vain to intercept.
On the 13th of August the hostile armies encountered each other between Blenheim and Hochstardt, near the Danube. The opposing forces were nearly equal, but on the part of the French the command was divided, and the corps acted separately. It was to the honor of both the Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough, that during this long war they always combined their operations without jealousy or personal intrigue. "We, the Prince Eugene and I, will never quarrel about our share of the laurels." The prince had with great difficulty succeeded in conducting his troops to their assigned post. While this movement was in progress, public prayers were begun in the allied army. "The English chaplains," says Lord Macaulay, "read the service at the head of the English regiments. The Calvinistic chaplains of the Dutch army, with heads on which hand of Bishop had never been laid, poured forth their supplications in front of their countrymen. In the mean time, the Danes might listen to their Lutheran ministers, and capuchins might encourage the Austrian squadrons, and pray to the Virgin for a blessing on the arms of the Holy Roman Empire. The battle commences. These men, of various religions, all act like members of one body."
Marshal Tallard had sustained alone the attack of the English and Dutch under Marlborough; he was made prisoner; his son was killed at his side; the cavalry, deprived of their leader and driven by the enemy, fled in the direction of the Danube. Many officers and soldiers perished in the stream; the massacre was frightful. Marsin and the Elector repulsed five successive charges of Prince Eugene, and succeeded in securing their retreat; but the electorates of Bavaria and Cologne were lost. Landau was recaptured by the allies after a siege of two months. The French army recrossed the Rhine. Alsace was gained, and Germany was evacuated. "If the success of Prince Eugene had equalled his merit," said Marlborough, "we would have ended the war in this campaign."
The return of the Duke of Marlborough to England was a veritable triumph. Parliament and the queen vied with each other in generosity towards him. He received as a gift the estate of Woodstock, which took the name of Blenheim. The foundations of a magnificent palace were laid. In vain did the Tories, already envious of the duke, seek to rival his victorious campaign, by the maritime successes of Sir George Rooke; all eyes were fixed upon the general, all hope centered on him; his influence in England was equal to his power upon the continent. "If the duke gains the same successes in 1705 as he has gained in 1704," said the Tories, "the constitution of England will be lost." The discontented were reassured.
The brilliant results of the campaign of 1705, in Spain, under the Earl of Peterborough (formerly Lord Mordaunt), were counteracted, in Germany, by the internal discords of the Grand Alliance. Masters of Gibraltar since 1704, the English, in 1705, seized Barcelona. Bold, enterprising and peculiar, but of brilliant personal valor, Peterborough had taken possession of Barcelona in spite of his lieutenants and his soldiers. He rallied and led back to the assault the flying troops. Galloping to meet them and flourishing a half broken pike in his hand, he cried, "Return, and follow me, if you do not want the eternal infamy of having deserted your post and abandoned your general."
"We have been the object of a miracle," wrote he to the Duchess of Marlborough. "I know what was the temper of our nation, especially during the month of November. I believe, however, that one ought not to complain, but we are as poor as church mice, without money, and miracles are not sufficient."
In 1706 alternate successes and reverses had successively delivered Madrid to the princely competitors who disputed the throne of Spain. Peterborough found at the head of the troops of King Philip V., his compatriot, the Duke of Berwick. This nobleman was often engaged, for the service of his party or his family, in enterprises which did not become his taciturn honesty. He was faithfully devoted to the service of King Louis XIV., although never a favorite with his grandson, and still less pleasing to the young Queen, Marie Gabrielle, second daughter of the Duke of Savoy.
Lord Peterborough shared in the same manner the dislike of the Archduke Charles. "I would not accept my safety from the hands of my Lord Peterborough," said the Austrian Prince.—"What fools we are to fight for such imbeciles!" bitterly replied the English General.
The defeat at Blenheim, in 1704, was a first and terrible blow to the power of Louis XIV., as well as to the military prestige of France. The defeat at Ramillies, on the 23rd of May, 1706, was a second step towards ruin. The personal attachment of the king had always blinded him regarding the military talents of Villeroi. Defeated in Italy by Prince Eugene, Villeroi, as presumptuous as unskilful, hoped to distinguish himself before Marlborough. "All the army long for battle. I know that it is the wish of your Majesty," wrote the marshal to Louis XIV., after his check. "How can I prevent exposing myself to an engagement which I believe expedient?" His lieutenants differed with him; they conjured him to change his order of battle. The troops engaged without confidence. The Bavarians fled within an hour; the French, heroic as at Blenheim, realizing the blunders of their commander, soon followed their example. The rout was complete, the disorder indescribable. Villeroi did not stop until he was under the walls of Brussels. He was soon obliged to evacuate that place. The Duke of Marlborough entered it in the middle of October, master of two-thirds of Belgium. The emperor offered to the victorious general the government of the Low Countries. Marlborough greatly desired to accept it, but the visible opposition of the Hollanders prevented him. "Assure the States that I have no desire to give them any embarrassment," wrote he to Heinsius; "since they do not think it expedient, I willingly decline to accept this commission." Marshal Villeroi was recalled. "No more happiness at our age," said the king with great kindness. The Duke de Vendôme was charged with the command of the army in Flanders, "in the hope that he would infuse that spirit of strength and audacity natural to the French nation," said Louis XIV. "All the world here is ready to take off its hat when the name of the Duke of Marlborough is mentioned," wrote Vendôme; "if the soldiers and the cavaliers are of the same mind, then one might as well take leave at once; but I hope to find better material."
All the efforts of Vendôme were not able to prevent the loss of Ménin, of Ath, and of Dendermonde. Prince Eugene defeated the Duke of Orleans before Turin on the 7th of September. Marshal Marsin was killed. "It is impossible to express the joy that I feel," said Marlborough, in a letter to his wife, "for I more than esteem, I love the Prince Eugene. This brilliant action ought to place France low enough to permit us, if our friends consent to continue the war for another year, to conclude a peace which will give us repose to the end of our days. But for the present I do not comprehend the Dutch."
The States-General had, in fact, received overtures from Louis XIV., which inclined them towards peace. "It is said publicly at the Hague," wrote Godolphin, "that France is humbled as much as is desirable, and that if the war is prolonged, it will end in making England stronger than she ought to be. All that they have as yet proposed, is a treaty of partition, dishonorable to the allies and deplorable for the future." War made the glory, the fortune and the power of the Duke of Marlborough, as well as of Prince Eugene; both influenced Heinsius, who had remained faithful to the policy of William III., but without that grandeur and breadth of mind which knows how to measure advantages with justice and moderation. The disputes of the States finally ended in the republic remaining faithful to the allies, and deciding not to accept any negotiation without their concurrence. Public opinion was nevertheless modified in Holland. "The Burgomasters of Amsterdam have passed two hours at my house this morning, endeavoring to convince me of the necessity of a prompt peace," wrote Marlborough, in 1708; "this, on the part of the most zealous Hollanders, has greatly disturbed me."
For a time the affairs of France, closely allied to those of Spain, appeared to improve in that kingdom; the victory at Almanza, won on the 13th of April, 1707, by Marshal Berwick over the Anglo-Portuguese army, and the taking of Lerida, which capitulated on the 11th of November, to the Duke of Orleans, revived the hopes of the partisans of Philip V., and turned popular sentiment in his favor. Lord Peterborough, dissatisfied and irritated, returned to England. Lord Galway, son of the old Marquis of Ruvigny, and like him a refugee in England, took command of the English troops. The campaigns of the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene had not been brilliant. The Prince and the Duke of Savoy had been repulsed before Toulon, and the uprising of the peasants compelled them to precipitately evacuate Provence. Marshal Villars had driven back the Margrave of Bayreuth from the banks of the Rhine, and had advanced into Swabia; he also ravaged the Palatinate. All the negotiations of Marlborough in Sweden, at Vienna and at Berlin, had not been able to bring about, in time, a combined action of the allied forces; murmurs of dissatisfaction were heard in England as well as in Holland. The enemies of Marlborough accused him of designedly prolonging the war, by his insatiable avariciousness. The popularity of the duchess with the queen was visibly declining; all the audacity and cleverness of the great general were scarcely sufficient to turn aside parliamentary attacks. Godolphin was threatened in his power. "I am discouraged," wrote Marlborough to his wife, "and I am astonished at the courage of the Lord Treasurer. If I was treated as he is—and I probably will be—and was always upon the point of seeing myself abandoned by the Whigs, I would not remain at my post for all that the world might offer; I would not be the first to repent. When I say this I know well that while the war lasts, I ought to retain my command; but I do not wish to put my hand to another thing."