An End to a Weary Journey
‘I ask forgiveness for the bad example I have set you.’1
The secret negotiations between France and Great Britain to bring an end to the war, facilitated by the efforts of a French priest, Father Gaultier, who was resident in London and took on the role of go-between, progressed to the degree that tentative terms for a treaty for a cessation of hostilities – a sketched-out structure that would lead to a formal treaty – were agreed in April 1711. Louis XIV undertook that his representatives should negotiate on his grandson’s behalf as well as his own. ‘I hope,’ he wrote from Versailles, ‘that you will not regret this confidence in me, and that you will find that I will make good use of the power that you have given me.’2 In brief, the intention was that Philip V would remain on the throne in Madrid, Austria retain its gains in Italy and the Low Countries, Great Britain receive preferential trading rights in the Americas, and the Dutch regain their Barrier Towns. This outline for a peace agreement was then made public, and was met with predictable protests from Vienna and The Hague, with accusations of bad faith and double-dealing on the part of London.
Despite this furore, the whole question of the succession in Spain was settled firmly on 17 April 1711 with the death from smallpox of 34-year-old Emperor Joseph; the bereaved empress was made regent at the head of an interim council of state. Prince Eugene, appointed as a member of the council, wrote to the Duke of Marlborough on 25 April that, nine days earlier: ‘He was believed to be out of danger. That same day, towards evening, the malady increased and he died the next morning at eleven.’3 With an inevitable period of uncertainty that ensued in the empire, preparations for the coming allied campaigns were delayed and imperial troops withdrawn from the Low Countries into Germany to ensure stability. Of much greater significance was the simple fact that Archduke Charles, who might once have been Carlos III of Spain, was likely to be elected as the new emperor in Vienna. This was not a foregone conclusion, as the archduke had never been King of the Romans and therefore the nominated successor should his older brother die. Still, the only other likely candidate with any demonstrably valid claim, the Elector of Bavaria, was a fugitive dependent for the time being upon the charity of Louis XIV, and accordingly could hardly be considered very eligible. In a curious exchange of diplomatic niceties, Philip V wrote to Archduke Charles in Barcelona with condolences at the death of his brother, but the letter was returned unopened, as the archduke would have been obliged to address any reply to the Duc d’Anjou, rather than to the King of Spain, and needless offence thereby given.
The whole political climate changed completely with this death; the archduke was set to succeed his brother, and to have the new Emperor Charles also crowned as Carlos III would be unsupportable, even assuming that he could be forced upon the Spanish people. The logic behind any continuation of the war was therefore gone. By dint of the military success of commanders such as Eugene and Marlborough, the Spanish Empire was divided with large areas of the Low Countries and Italy now in allied and Austrian hands, while the corresponding lack of success in the peninsula left Philip V secure in Madrid, as the Catalans could not and would not be supported indefinitely in their admirable but hopeless allegiance to the Habsburg claimant. On 27 September 1711 the archduke sailed from Barcelona bound for Vienna, and on 2 October he was duly elected as Emperor Charles VI; although his wife stayed in Catalonia for the time being as a token of good faith; he never returned to Spain.
In the meantime, the Duke of Marlborough had been obliged to open his campaign in northern France, in Eugene’s absence, with a distinct lack of numbers compared to his opponent, Marshal Villars. The French commander had no need to seek a battle in the open, and his army lay secure behind formidable lines of defence stretching from the Channel coast to Mauberge on the river Sambre, the ‘Lines of Non Plus Ultra’. It seemed that only a bloody frontal assault could shift the French from their position, but instead Marlborough fooled Villars into reinforcing his posts around Arras to the westwards, and then struck across the lines at Arleux, ‘having got over their prodigious lines which nobody thought we should have done without a battle’, and going on to lay siege to the French fortress of Bouchain at the junction of the Scheldt and Sensee rivers.4 The garrison put up a spirited defence, and Villars brought his army in close to Bourlon Wood to try and impede the progress of the siege. Despite his greater numbers, the marshal proved unable to lift the allied siege and the commander of the garrison, the Marquis de Ravignan, capitulated on 12 September. ‘The garrison was numerous,’ a Dutch officer wrote, ‘and wanted nothing, it was supported by the French army; and yet in the sight of a hundred thousand fighting men, they were made prisoners of war.’5 An unseemly argument ensued over the terms of the capitulation, but Marlborough was adamant that the marquis and his men were his prisoners of war and not immediately eligible for parole.
Affairs in Spain went forward rather haltingly for much of the year. The exertions of both armies in the closing months of the previous campaign, for all the success that Vendôme had achieved at Brihuega and Villaviciosa, had worn down the capabilities of both sides, and it was only in September 1711 that he advanced in earnest once more. Now reinforced with fresh Austrian troops from Italy and British units from the garrison in Gibraltar, von Starhemberg and Argyll took up a strong defensive position at Pratz del Roy with an army 15,000 strong, in order to cover the approaches to both Tarragona and Barcelona. On 16 September Vendôme with a slightly larger force attempted to manoeuvre them out of the defences, but failing in this he withdrew to Cervera, sending a detachment of 3,000 troops to lay siege to the allied fortress at Cardona. This operation went on rather slowly in the face of a valiant defence by the governor, Count Eck, who prudently withdrew into the citadel once the main walls were breached. On 20 December von Starhemberg sent a relief force which in a two-day battle drove the besieging army away with the loss of all their guns and baggage. The news of the reverse was not well received and Louis XIV urged that no risks be taken. ‘I do not believe it to be apropos for you to seek to fight,’ he wrote to Vendôme, who accordingly withdrew his troops into winter quarters behind the river Segre.6
That same autumn negotiations had reached a kind of resolution between France and Great Britain for a general cessation of hostilities. The ‘Preliminary Articles’ that were agreed in late September for a permanent treaty guaranteed to Great Britain ‘most favoured nation’ status in trading with Spain and the Spanish empire, while both Gibraltar and Minorca were to remain in British hands. Britain also made considerable gains in North America with the fisheries around Newfoundland and the fur trade out of Hudson’s Bay being confirmed as solely British interests. An additional benefit for British trade was that the fortifications and harbour mole at the notorious privateering port at Dunkirk were to be demolished. A subsidiary paper guaranteed the Protestant succession to the throne in London, the separation for all time of the thrones of France and Spain, the restoration of the Dutch Barrier in the southern Netherlands, and the territorial gains made for Austria in Italy and the Low Countries. It was, however, clear that France and Great Britain had arranged terms to best suit themselves, while the Dutch had ‘to jostle with the Austrians for such broken meats as they would find under the conference table’.7 Too much was left vague and subject to further manoeuvring for those in The Hague, Vienna and Turin to be satisfied, but those in London and Versailles, and to a degree in Madrid, had got what was sought.
While these discussions, whether conducted in good faith or bad, proceeded at a stately pace, with the Duke of Marlborough was out of favour in London and excluded from the negotiations. He was suddenly relieved of all his posts by Queen Anne on 31 December 1711. ‘I am very sensible of the honour your Majesty does me,’ the Duke wrote bitterly, ‘in dismissing me from your service by a letter of your own hand.’8 With matters all but settled between France and Great Britain, Marlborough with his brilliant talents was now an inconvenience, and was put out of the way. Louis XIV learned the news of the dismissal with satisfaction: ‘The affair of displacing the Duke of Marlborough will do all for us we desire.’9
A congress was convened at Utrecht to formalise the discussions that had taken place to achieve peace. The affair was largely managed by the Marquis de Torcy for France and Robert Harley, the Earl of Oxford, for Great Britain, and the most pressing issue remained that of guaranteeing the separation of the two crowns of France and Spain. This had become urgent due to the ravages of an epidemic of measles in the French court, which had carried off the heir to the throne the Duc de Bourgogne (his father, the Dauphin, having died of smallpox the previous year), and also his elder son. The younger son, Louis, still an infant in arms, thanks to the tender ministrations of his formidable nurse who barred the nursery door to keep the well-intentioned but incompetent royal doctors away, survived to succeed his greatgrandfather a couple of years later. Had the infant not lived, the spectre of Philip V of Spain being the only legitimate heir of Louis XIV would have arisen, with incalculable consequences. The Earl of Oxford suggested an exchange of Spanish titles and territories between Philip V and Victor-Amadeus of Savoy, should the Frenchman accept the throne, but nothing came of this notion and assurances given by Louis XIV over the separation of the crowns being irrevocable had to be accepted for what they were.
Marlborough’s successor in command of the British troops, James Butler, 2nd Duke of Ormonde, received instructions from London, which were notoriously to become known as the restraining orders, and he was to effectively mark time while the protracted negotiations for peace went on. Ormonde was at first advised to ‘be cautious for sometime of engaging in an action’ but then Secretary of State Henry St John wrote to him on 21 May 1712:
It is therefore the Queen’s positive command to your Grace that you avoid engaging in any siege, or hazarding a battle, till you have further orders from Her Majesty. I am, at the same time, directed to let your Grace know that the Queen would have you disguise the receipt of this order, and her Majesty thinks that you cannot want pretences for conducting yourself so as to answer her ends without owning that which might, at present, have an ill effect if it was publicly known. P.S. I had almost forgot to tell your Grace that communication is given of this order to the Court of France.10
Britain’s allies were, in effect to be kept in the dark concerning the determination to conclude an agreement for a peace with France, while being misled as to the day-to-day intentions of the army while on campaign. Versailles, however, was clearly informed of the detail, and diplomatic duplicity was plainly in full play.
The Dutch and Prince Eugene were, however, not to be gulled in this, and were well aware of what was going on in London, even if the precise nature of the restraining orders were, for the moment, not entirely clear to them. When Eugene proposed a march to surprise the French in their encampment, Ormonde cried off, pleading that he needed instructions from London before acting. ‘There are several among them,’ he wrote to London, ‘who do not hesitate to say that they have been betrayed.’11 It was clear also that other supporters of the alliance, with a keen interest in the outcome of the war, were likely to take a robust stance. ‘The Elector of Hanover is strongly opposed to the peace, and will let his troops serve with the Dutch. I am also doubtful whether we can win over the Danes.’12 Ormonde became concerned that the British troops might even be disarmed and interned by their late comrades in arms. Parliament in London, meanwhile were being assured that no such deceit was being attempted on Britain’s allies. ‘Nothing of that nature was ever intended,’ Robert Harley declared with astonishing aplomb. ‘The Allies are acquainted with our proceedings, and satisfied with our terms.’13 Rarely, it appears, have the Members of Parliament in London been lied to quite such a bare-faced fashion.
Von Starhemberg and Vendôme continued to manoeuvre against each other in Catalonia, but neither achieved a great deal. The French commander died of food poisoning at Vinaroz in June 1712, taking away one of Louis XIV’s best field commanders, but the allies had insufficient strength or the will to push their campaign forward and take advantage of his removal from the scene, other than to attempt a rather ineffective blockade of Gerona. The last British troops left Barcelona in late November. ‘The poor Spaniards, seeing they were left in the lurch, they called us traitors, and all the vile names they could invent, and the common people threw stones at us.’14 Most British and Dutch troops had already been removed from Portugal at the end of 1711, and used to augment the garrisons in Gibraltar and Port Mahon in Minorca, but hostilities along the border stuttered on in a rather aimless way. The following autumn, a late Spanish attempt was made to seize Campo Mayor, near to Elvas on the river Guadiana, before peace brought everything to a halt. The Portuguese garrison resisted valiantly, and reinforcements broke through the Spanish lines twice to reach the fortress, and the besiegers’ main magazine was blown up by a lucky mortar bomb. An attempt to storm the main bastion was made by the Marquis de Bay’s troops on 17 October, but was beaten off with heavy losses, and when news came of a suspension of hostilities the siege had to be lifted, and the Spanish army rather reluctantly withdrew across the border once more. When the remaining British troops made their way to Gibraltar by marching across Andalusia, with Spanish permission of course, it was remembered that the locals showed great hospitality and generosity to the soldiers, who reciprocated by behaving very well on the march. The Portuguese regiments that made their way home from Catalonia received a cooler reception on the way, but were not actively hindered in their progress. The armistice between Spain and Portugal, for that was all it was, had to be renewed every four months until the treaty for peace was ratified by the two countries in February 1715.
Meanwhile, in northern France Eugene was keen to maintain pressure on the French, and the allied army crossed the Selle river on 8 June 1712, accompanied still by a British detachment; Ormonde had agreed to take part in the operation to attack Le Quesnoy, because to refuse would be to publicly declare the duplicitous hand he was having to play. Marshal Villars had been assured that active British operations were at an end while negotiations for peace were ongoing, and he protested at what seemed to be such a breach of good faith. That a far greater breach of good faith was in active play against Ormonde’s own allies in the campaign was of no concern to Villars. Relations between Eugene and Ormonde were understandably under some strain, and when the British general advised the prince to abandon the siege of Le Quesnoy, the tart response was that the operations would instead be pressed with all vigour. ‘The English, for their part,’ Colonel Jean-Martin de la Colonie wrote, ‘did not separate themselves from the allied army, but allowed the siege to progress without participating in the work.’15 The Elector of Hanover remained suspicious of what was taking place behind closed doors, and Queen Anne wrote to her heir and eventual successor on the throne in London on 17 June 1712, in order to reassure him:
You will see with satisfaction how much at heart I have had the true interests of your Family; and that you will be agreeably surprised to see how France’s offers approach towards a just and reasonable satisfaction for all the Allies, while containing great advantages for my subjects, by which they may hope to repay themselves somewhat for the heavy expense of a long and arduous war, of which the principal burden has fallen on them. The opposition which I have met during the course of this negotiation, and the disunion which has so inopportunely arisen among the confederates might have produced the worst consequences; but I hope with God’s blessing, to bring this great Work, already far advanced, to a happy end.16
The queen spoke with perfect truth over who had for much of the war carried the greatest share of the burden, and she would have no more of it. In effect, Great Britain had got what it needed from the war, as had her allies if only they could bring themselves to see it.
Out on campaign, meanwhile, there was a growing conviction that the British troops were no longer to be relied on, additional measures were been taken by Eugene to ensure the security of the allied camp. On 28 June Ormonde sent instructions to the commanders of the foreign troops in British pay to be ready to march and quit the campaign, but the response was immediate and quelling – in effect that they would not march off without express instructions from their own princes. Three days later the 3,000-strong French garrison of Le Quesnoy submitted as prisoners of war, and the British troops left the allied army soon afterwards, marching north to encampments around Ghent and Bruges. Most other towns in the southern Netherlands firmly and with manifest disdain closed their gates to the British regiments, but control of the valuable fortified port of Dunkirk was handed over to the British, pending demolition of the defences, for that was a part of the secret deal that had been struck.
Eugene and his Dutch allies, together with the German and Danish contingents, were still in the field, still flushed with success and confidence. Their French opponents could only look ruefully back at a long list of defeats and setbacks, Le Quesnoy being only the latest over several years of disappointment. The French commander occupied a good defensive position between Arras and Cambrai, however, and would not easily be manoeuvred into the open. To try and achieve this, Eugene struck at Landrecies just to the south of the Forest of Mormal, but his lines of supply and communication back to Douai were lengthy and exposed, while the French still held fortified places such as Mauberge and Valenciennes within striking distance. As Colonel de la Colonie remembered: ‘The siege of Landrecies took him so much further afield that he found his convoys were no longer safe from attack.’17 On 22 July Villars advanced across the Selle river, and by turning quickly northwards within two days had invested the allied-held fortified encampment at Denain. Villars now threatened Eugene’s lines of supply, and the hunted had turned hunter in consequence. Denain was held by a garrison 8,000 strong, under the very capable command of Arnold Joost van Keppel, the Earl of Albemarle. Although Eugene counter-marched from Landrecies with his army to relieve Denain, the French attacked and routed an outpost at Neuville on 24 July, and as they advanced, Albemarle had to draw his garrison in to a close defence of the encampment:
Arrangements were made to invest these entrenchments to a certain degree, and as the enemy’s cannon were firing point-blank at us, the leading brigades were ordered to lie down to avoid the shot as much as possible … In the orders for the assault the front ranks of our troops were directed to sling their muskets and use their sword, so as to have greater freedom in scaling the parapets. Those in rear followed with bayonets fixed.18
Villars attacked with great skill and determination, and Albemarle was forced back upon a single pontoon bridge to try and get his troops across the river Escaut. This structure collapsed under the strain and 5,000 allied soldiers were killed, drowned or taken prisoner by the victorious French. ‘In a moment they were engulfed in the stream, and all that were left of the eighteen battalions were two or three thousand who were cut off and taken prisoner.’19 Amongst the allied prisoners taken were Albemarle, the Prince of Nassau-Siegen, Count Lippe and Count Hohenzollern, while Eugene had been obliged to watch the unfolding catastrophe from the far side of the river, with those few cavalry squadrons he had managed to bring up to try and save the day. The loss in killed and wounded suffered by Villars in achieving this brilliant success was modest by comparison, although several officers of high rank were counted amongst the casualties, such had been the vigour with which they had pressed their attack. Louis XIV was understandably elated at the news of the victory and he wrote to the marshal: ‘Nothing could more favourably advance and assist the negotiations for peace, than to recover this superiority that my troops have had for so long but which they unhappily had lost for the last several years.’20
In the wake of such a defeat Prince Eugene had to abandon the operations against Landrecies and fall back to recover his lines of supply and communication. ‘I was obliged to raise the siege of Landrecy, and to approach Mons, for the purpose of subsisting my army.’21 A huge depot he had established at Marchiennes on the river Scarpe fell into French hands, as did the minor fortresses of Mortagne and Saint Amand. Douai was invested by Villars on 12 August, and with only a weak garrison with which to defend the place, the governor had to submit in the second week of September. Eugene would have made an attack to relieve the place, but the Dutch, shocked at the débâcle at Denain and aware that an agreement for peace was in the offing were reluctant to do so. Le Quesnoy was regained by Villars on 6 October, and Bouchain fell fifteen days later. In the space of a few short weeks, the French commander had regained at remarkably little cost almost all that had been lost to the allies in the previous two years, and Louis XIV, both relieved and exultant at this remarkable turnaround in French fortunes, had solemn services of thanksgiving held by the Archbishop of Paris. The grim lesson for the Grand Alliance was that it could not fight on without the British contingents, who had now left the field, or operate without the cash subsidies that had flowed at one time from Queen Anne’s treasury. Great Britain was no longer an active participant in the war, having arranged matters to satisfaction with the French, and it remained for her erstwhile allies to do the same.
The articles for peace having been agreed between British and France, Holland had little option but to follow suit, and this was duly done with the conclusion of what collectively became known as the Treaty of Utrecht. (See Appendix 2 for the treaty terms.) The Dutch got their Barrier once more, partly carved out of French territory gained by Marlborough and Eugene in long years of arduous campaigning. This was an improvement on the old Barrier that had been rashly swept away in 1701, but not as extensive as they had hoped for in 1709.22 Louis XIV regained Lille, Aire Sur la Lys and St Venant, but failed in an attempt to have Tournai restored to France. The King’s ally, the Elector of Bavaria, was restored to his estates, but gained little else from his devious engagement in the war. The King in Prussia was rewarded for his support for the Grand Alliance with the territory of Upper Guelderland, while Nice and Savoy were returned to Victor-Amadeus of Savoy, who also gained Sicily. The thrones of France and Spain were to be kept apart, and the renunciation by Philip V on this key provision ran:
We have determined both to establish this treaty on a firm footing and to spread the boon of peace, thus ensuring the good of all people and the peaceful balance of power in Europe … to accede to the representations made by England and approved by His Majesty, Our Grandfather [Louis XIV] and, so that it shall henceforth never come within the realms of possibility for the Crown to be wed with that of France, to agree to renounce, in Our own Name and in that of all Our descendants, all rights to the French Throne, which renunciation shall be matched by an equal and opposite renunciation [by his younger brother the Duc de Berry] adhering to this fundamental maxim that the balance of power within Europe shall be maintained, all steps shall be taken to guarantee that at no time shall this inheritance fall to the House of Austria, for, should this happen, this House, even without the domains and territories attaching to the Empire, would be made formidably powerful, a factor which in the past made the separation of the hereditary estates enjoyed by the House of Austria from the body of the Spanish Realms a laudable enterprise … In the event of our dying without issue, or of Our line being for any reason interrupted and not enjoying true continuance, the heir to this Our throne shall be the Duke of Savoy and His sons.23
Clearly, the hand of Louis XIV was in this: the old concern at the prospect of Habsburg encirclement of France had not lessened with the passage of the years. As set out in the treaty, if the line of Philip V failed, France agreed that Victor-Amadeus or his own descendants, would inherit the throne in Madrid. It might be thought then, that the wily duke, who had backed first one side and then the other, was the real victor in the war. Portugal gained no Spanish territory as hoped, but her frontiers in South America were made more secure against encroachment. After some late arguing over such details as fishing rights off Nova Scotia and the precise extent of the renewed Dutch Barrier the treaty was signed on 11 April 1713 at Utrecht, firstly between Great Britain and France, then between France, Savoy and Prussia, and lastly between France and Holland. The Treaty was brought to London on 14 April where it was received with enormous acclamation. Peace, however dubiously achieved, and glorious or otherwise, was very welcome: ‘Last night,’ an English lady wrote, ‘we had a vast number of bonfires in every village.’24
Austria tried to fight on alone to gain better terms, but the cause was irretrievably lost once Great Britain and Holland had agreed things with Louis XIV:
The Emperor had made up his mind to continue the war, in order to exact better conditions touching certain points that concerned him in particular so that if, after all, he was obliged to accept peace, it should not be said afterwards that lesser Powers had restricted his demands.25
As it turned out, Vienna was in no fit shape to fight on alone, and little of significant value was achieved. The southern Netherlands were no longer to be the key battleground, and attention switched to the length of the middle and upper Rhine.
Kaiserlauten was captured on 24 June 1713, and Marshal Bezon moved from Alsace to invest the fortress of Landau. Prince Eugene had been hopeful of holding the line of the Rhine, but:
The tardiness of the princes and circles [of the Empire] prevented me from anticipating the French on the upper Rhine … as I clearly perceived that Villars meant to make an attempt on Landau, I ordered lines to be formed at Etlingen, within which I sent one half of my army, and posted the other at Mühlberg, where I hoped my reinforcements would arrive before the fall of Landau; but the Prince of Württemberg was obliged to capitulate.26
Württemberg had put up a creditable defence: ‘A thoroughly well-informed and brave man, who took every possible opportunity of delaying our approaches,’ Colonel de la Colonie recalled.27 The Marquis de Biron was amongst those wounded in the French trenches, losing an arm; good terms were not offered to the garrison by Villars, and they had to surrender ‘at discretion’ as prisoners of war on 20 August.
Having taken this key fortress, Villars once more raided imperial lands in Germany, and began a siege of Freiburg on 1 October. The garrison under the command of Baron d’Arsch fought bravely from well-prepared works, but after a bloodily expensive French assault on the main walls on 2 November had to withdraw into the citadel. ‘What added to the furious and murderous character of this action was the fact that we had pitched upon the same night for our attack that the besieged had themselves elected to make a sortie upon us.’28 Villars made no attempt to storm the citadel, but threatened to burn the town if the garrison did not submit. The baron was permitted to ask instructions from the emperor in Vienna, who directed that he should yield rather than incur such destruction, and accordingly d‘Arsch capitulated on 21 November. With the coming of bad weather and biting cold, the opposing armies tramped wearily off to their quarters
Negotiations to achieve a peace progressed through the winter months, with Eugene and Villars taking a prominent part – they had been old friends and comrades when fighting the Ottoman Turks in Hungary when young and this helped in the discussions. ‘Never did men embrace with more military sincerity,’ the prince remembered, ‘and I may venture to add, with more esteem and attachment.’29 In March 1714 peace was agreed between Vienna and Versailles with the Treaty of Rastadt, and the subsequent treaties of Baden and Madrid. So, at last, quiet came to a weary western Europe. Long critical years of outright war, devastation of land and property, and burdensome taxation were past, and there was understandably general relief that it should be so. Much had been achieved by both sides in the conflict, although ambitions, both spoken and unspoken, reasonable and exorbitant as they might have been, had been so high that much was also lost and regretted. In particular, Louis XIV, whose fortunes had been so low in the terrible years 1706 to 1709, could have felt with justification that the subsequent recovery of the French position was remarkable. The Marquis de Torcy wrote:
Who would have said at this time, that the property of the formidable Alliance of the enemies of France and Spain had reached its final limit … these proud warriors, so drunk with their successes, would, confounded in their designs, restore to the King the most important fortresses they had captured, that there would no longer be any question of their demanding hostages to guarantee the inviolable word of a great King, nor of proposing as the foundation of a Treaty odious preliminaries.30
The final sad act of the long war for Spain took place in Catalonia, where the people had taken up the cause of Archduke Charles and alone held firm to their allegiance. They had, of course, at first been reluctant to support the Habsburg claimant to the throne, but with the likelihood of British naval blockade of their ports, and with comforting assurances ‘of the Queen’s support’,31 they had risen in favour of the archduke and remained steadfast to the cause they had espoused when others fell away. A provision of the Treaty of Utrecht stipulated that, once allied troops had left Catalonia, a general amnesty would be offered, but this important provision was not included in the agreement between Great Britain and Spain. When von Starhemberg evacuated Barcelona with the bulk of his Austrian, Dutch and Palatine troops, as required under treaty terms, he contrived to hand the city over to the Catalans and not to the Duca de Populi who had confidently expected to take possession in the name of Philip V. Resentment in Madrid at what appeared to be double-dealing was immediate.
So, the fighting went on. The Catalan cause was apparently without hope of success but they remained resolute nonetheless, and de Populi had not enough strength to force the stout defences of the city and nearby Fort Montjuich. Philip V had yet to formally conclude an agreement to cease hostilities with Holland, and Louis XIV was reluctant to commit French troops to assist in the operations against Barcelona until this had been achieved. He wrote to his apparently wilful grandson in exasperation in April 1714:
I tell you that I will not give you any fresh help towards the reduction of Barcelona until you have signed this peace. I am very distressed to be compelled to take this decision, but you can change it whenever you wish; for as soon as you have concluded the treaty with Holland my troops, which I am still concentrating in Roussillon, will be at your disposal; I will also at once send the engineers that I have earmarked for you, and that I am still keeping ready.32
No immediate answer was forthcoming from Madrid and the Catalans took advantage of this pause to strengthen their position. The Duca de Populi made a careful study of the defences of Barcelona, and reported to Madrid that, without French assistance, there was little chance of making a successful assault.
After a three-month delay that could well have been avoided, Philip V acquiesced in his grandfather’s wishes and terms were agreed with the Dutch. The Duke of Berwick accordingly left Versailles on 22 June to take charge of the French troops in the campaign against those Catalans who still refused to acknowledge the king’s authority. Berwick had command of 35,000 French and Spanish infantry and 6,000 cavalry, concentrated around Gerona, with another 12,000 troops near to Tarragona. He was opposed by 16,000 Catalan defenders in Barcelona, who had the support of some 4,000 foreign volunteers, notably those Austrians and Italians who had stayed to fight when von Starhemberg left. Sentiment was hardening on both sides, with instructions to Berwick coming from Madrid that no mercy should be shown unless the Catalans submitted without delay with the promise of only the barest of good terms, while on the other hand the authorities in Barcelona suppressed any show of sympathy or support for Philip V, however tepid, with considerable severity.
On 10 July 1713 the three Estates of Catalonia voted to ignore the offered amnesty and instead opt for war in pursuit of the preservation of their ancient rights and privileges. Barcelona was already blockaded, although a partial replenishment of the city by ships sailing from Majorca and Ibiza had been accomplished earlier in the month. The islands remained loyal to Charles, and the small flotilla of Catalan ships were able to slip in and out of the port with supplies. Philip V asked the newly-appointed British ambassador in Madrid, Lord Lexington, to provide a naval squadron to complete the blockade of the Catalan coastline, but this was refused – Great Britain could be accused of leaving the Catalans to face the consequences, but plainly some things would have been just too dark and disgraceful to contemplate. The ambassador did, though, urge the king to adopt a conciliatory approach in reaching an agreement with the Catalans, but this advice was ignored. Lexington wrote to the Estates in Barcelona: ‘I always desired to help bring about the solution most favourable in the present situation, and accordingly I repeat to you that I cannot give you better advice than to accept the amnesty offered to you.’33
Marshal Berwick had to contend with irregular Catalan forces under the command of the Marquis de Peral manoeuvring against his lines of supply, but he pushed his preparations for a siege along at a good pace. The trenches were opened on 12 July, with a vigorous sally by the garrison having to be beaten off with some difficulty the next day. The bombardment of the bastions of Puerta Nueva, Santa Clara and El Levante began two weeks later, and there was a period of fierce fighting for possession of the Santa Clara feature in particular, with heavy casualties on both sides, but the bastion remained in the hands of the defenders. The work of the big guns went on regardless, and Berwick had to restrain those of his officers who, anxious to demonstrate their valour, wished to make a premature attack on the gradually widening breach;
The vigorous resistance of the enemy determined me to hazard no more attacks of this kind; but at the same time it was very difficult to find out how one could make oneself master of the town by any other method. Our engineers, whose knowledge did not extend beyond the ordinary rules of the art, seeing that the environs were all laid under water, proposed to me as the only resource to give the general assault at a breach which had been made between Puerta Nueva and Santa Clara. It appeared that those who were capable of making such a proposal, must have lost their senses, for the flanks were still entire, the breach undermined, and besides there was behind a very strong entrenchment.34
Berwick was determined to have the defences battered down still further before attempting an assault. ‘I therefore advanced some batteries, and armed myself with patience against all the discourses of the officers of the army, who grew very much tired with the length of the siege.’35 Attempts to negotiate a capitulation of the city on reasonable terms proved unsuccessful, and Berwick became increasingly exasperated at what he saw as a pointless and doomed defence with no realistic hope of relief. ‘The obstinacy of these people was the more surprising as there were seven breaches in the body of the place; no possibility of receiving any succours, and no provisions in the town.’36
At daybreak on 11 September 1714, a grand assault was made, and after heavy hand-to-hand fighting the three main bastions were firmly in Berwick’s hands. Another defensive work, the San Pedro bastion, was also taken, but was enfiladed by heavy fire from Catalan troops in a nearby convent and a sharp counter-attack almost drove the marshal’s troops back into their own entrenchments. He was well forward with his generals, and with his encouragement, the gains of the early morning were held against fierce resistance and made secure by mid-afternoon. The garrison commander, Don Antonio Villaroel, now asked for terms for a capitulation, but Berwick refused the request, not unreasonably as he had been forced to make such a bloody assault which might well have been avoided by an earlier submission. He wrote:
It was now too late; that we were already masters of the city, and had it in our power to put everything to the sword; and I should not therefore listen to any proposals on their part, except of submitting at discretion to His Catholic Majesty, and of imploring his mercy.37
The discussions ended abruptly and the firing of the breaching batteries, and the counter-battery work, went on. Berwick sent a further message to Villaroel that evening, that he expected a capitulation without further delay or he would allow Barcelona to be sacked by his troops. The garrison commander and the authorities in the city, driven to the last extremity in their defence, had no choice but to agree, and Berwick dictated quite reasonable terms, in the circumstances:
I then promised them their lives would be safe, and even that there should be no plunder, which I did in order to preserve, to the King of Spain, a rich and flourishing city … On the morning of the 13th [September] the rebels retired from all their posts; and our troops marched through the streets in such order to the quarters that were assigned to them, that not a single soldier got out of the ranks.38
That there was no attempt to sack or plunder Barcelona says much for the good state of discipline of the troops that Berwick led. This restraint was remarkable for the success was certainly hard won, with some 6,000 French and 3,000 Spanish troops killed and wounded during the siege. The scale of casualties amongst the garrison, which include many armed citizens and irregulars, was uncertain, but must have been equally heavy.
With the conclusion of the peace treaties, the great and outstanding matter to be settled had been that of the Catalans who, having been encouraged to fight against their declared sovereign, Philip V, had then been left to face the consequences once the parties to the Grand Alliance lost interest. These consequences became manifest with the fall of Barcelona; the Catalans were not, in a strict sense, rebels as they had taken up arms to support the allied cause at a moment when the young French prince, although proclaimed as King of Spain, had not yet made good that claim, while the Austrian archduke, arguably, had just as good a claim to the throne. Not all Catalans by any means had supported the Habsburg claimant, and numbers of those disaffected by the turn of events had left Barcelona when Charles was welcomed there. ‘At no stage was there unanimous or even majority support for the Archduke.’39 The citizens of the town of Tarragona, for example, had only declared their support under considerable duress, when subjected to a bombardment by an allied naval squadron, and the depredations of marauding armies was resented and widely resisted. ‘They marched continually, across the principality, eating and drinking, sacking and burning.’40 With the surrender of Barcelona, all Catalonian rights were in effect suspended and the region remained under martial law for many years. Majorca, last bastion of resistance to Philip V, only submitted to French troops commanded by the Chevalier d’Asfeld in June 1715, but no attempt was made to recover Minorca from the British, this having been agreed of course under the treaty terms.