There was also lingering concern that the small garrison at Badajoz on the river Guadiana would be attacked by the allies, so Berwick firmly refused requests to detach any troops to aid the attempt to recover Gibraltar. There was understandably a degree of strain between the commanding general and the court in Madrid, where the newly-arrived French ambassador, the Duc de Gramont, sought to establish his own position by meddling and criticising the conduct of the war. Even Puységur, normally so helpful and calm, felt that fears for the security of the south of the country were exaggerated, whether it be from a sortie from Gibraltar into Andalusia, or a fresh advance into Estramadura from Portugal by way of Badajoz. Berwick remained sure that the main threat lay in a direct approach through Alcantara and Toledo:
A certainty that the King of Portugal and the Archduke would come and attack me. All my representations, however, were still disregarded, to which Puységur, who was then at Madrid, contributed much; for he insisted that the enemy could not collect a sufficient force to make head upon me.22
True enough, the allied army, commanded by Das Minas and the newly-arrived Galway, with the Dutch troops still under Baron Fagel, was on the move. By 23 September they had reached Almeida with a force nearly 20,000 strong, and King Pedro and Archduke Charles joined the army two days later to review the troops, expressing themselves very satisfied with their spirits, condition and state of equipment.
Das Minas was eager that Ciudad Rodrigo should be threatened, and once that fortress fell an advance on Madrid in the cooler months of autumn was a promising prospect. This course was also urged by the Almirante of Castile, as the best way to raise the countryside for the Habsburg cause. Both Galway and Fagel were unconvinced however, and Archduke Charles, who was unwell with dysentery, refused to put forward a decided opinion. The danger was belatedly recognised, however, in Madrid, and a reinforcement of Spanish household cavalry was hastily sent to Berwick, together with a not altogether helpful instruction that he was to avoid a general action, and to retire if Galway advanced. The duke decided to ignore this, called Tilly from Badajoz with reinforcements, and decided to hold the line of the river Agueda. ‘Being convinced that if I did not, Spain was lost; so that it was much better to hazard a battle with some hope of success, than to abandon and forfeit all.’23 Berwick’s judgement was sound and the decision proved to be correct, and the allies, who had to delay operations while supplies were brought forward, only advanced to the line of the river on 7 October. After a sharp artillery exchange, Das Minas decided that the position adopted by Berwick was too strong to be carried, and the planned assault was called off. Poor weather set in, forage was harder to find and the allied army, unable to force the line of the Agueda, fell back along its lines of communication and supply into Portugal once more.24
The missed chance for the allied army to strike effectively that autumn inevitably led to recriminations and a general laying of blame for inaction, while King Pedro’s declining health forced him out of the future planning of operations. For all his initial understandable reluctance to abandon his treaty with France he had proved to be a good ally, and was certainly no fool where it came to the realities of having to campaign in adverse circumstances. On the other side of the hill, the Duke of Berwick was soon recalled to France, and his place as commander of the French and Spanish armies was taken by Marshal Tessé who, it was thought, would be more likely to pay attention to instructions from Madrid unlike the ‘great dry devil of an Englishman’.25 This was no adverse reflection upon Berwick’s considerable achievement in turning Das Minas and Galway and their army back in the closing months of the years’ campaign, and the duke was awarded the prestigious Order of the Golden Fleece by Philip V before he left Madrid. As it was, Tessé proved to be just as robust in maintaining his position as field commander free to operate as he saw fit, and even managed to get the interfering Duc de Gramont recalled to Versailles.
Although the failure to recover Gibraltar was regretted in Madrid, this could be seen as a temporary setback to be put right in due course, and if anything the allied success there had aggravated the already rather unsympathetic people of Andalusia. An advance through the region had been suggested by John Methuen, but not taken forward despite the potential advantages of using the navigation of the river Guadalquiver as far as Cordoba for the shipment of men and supplies. Personal rivalries between the allied commanders hampered preparations for the coming fine weather of spring, and Fagel, veteran and hard-bitten from many long campaigns, complained that Galway was not up to the task, although the earl had been accorded the rank of Mestre de Campo, just as was held by Das Minas, by King Pedro. Fagel was never actually disloyal but the disparity in rank irked him and did not make for easy cooperation between the two men. The baron prepared a carefully thought-through appreciation and plan for the coming campaign, and this had been presented to the king late in 1704, but Pedro suffered a stroke early in the new year, and Queen Catherine of Braganza (Charles II of England’s elderly widow) became regent. Unavoidable delay resulted, for the king, although in declining health, had been active in reforming and re-supplying his own army in anticipation of the fresh campaign. He recovered slightly, and attempted to regain control of events, but a degree of confusion resulted as to who was to be obeyed over the conflicting instructions that were given.
The plan agreed on was, unsurprisingly, to march on Madrid, as it was argued that this would give Archduke Charles the victory in Spain, whereas to go to Andalusia might just be a distraction far off to the south. Galway reviewed the army in early April 1705 but was disappointed to find that preparations for the campaign were still lagging. The cavalry were poorly mounted and equipped and were a particular concern, but if a move was made soon the French and Spanish might well be caught ill-prepared and with inferior numbers. Morale was not that good, however, and an English officer of dragoons wrote to his regimental colonel that ‘Pray God you never see this hellish country. Everybody is weary of it.’26 The king’s continued ill-health depressed the spirits of the Portuguese officers, and promised supplies from England were slow in coming, leading to suspicions of bad faith and a lack of interest in London, with reinforcements, when the did arrive, often being diverted to support the garrison on the Rock. The siege train had been sent to Elvas in preparation for an assault on Badajoz, but that operation was called off, and the heavy guns had to be dragged to the army on the Tagus at enormous time-consuming labour; in any case many of the fuzes for the explosive shells were defective, and baulks of timber to support the heavy guns in their battery positions were in short supply.
Despite all these difficulties, the 17,000-strong allied army advanced on a fresh campaign in late April 1705. By 3 May they had reached the minor fortress of Valencia d’Alcantara, to the south of the Tagus. A bombardment of the defences was begun, and the breach was stormed by Dutch and British troops, at which the garrison quickly and prudently capitulated. Unfortunately the town was then pillaged by the Portuguese troops and camp followers who were in a mood to pay off some old scores, although the citizenry fortunately suffered few casualties in the process. The hope of bringing the locals over to the Habsburg cause suffered another setback as a consequence, and when next the magistrates of Albuquerque, a small fortified hilltop town, were summoned to declare for Charles, the prompt and very emphatic response was that they would rather die for King Philip if need be. In the event, despite such bravado, once attacked the garrison submitted after a brief defence on 21 May. After such a promising start, divided counsels took over, with Galway urging that an advance on Badajoz be made, while Fagel wanted to go on to take Alcantara on the southern bank of the Tagus. Advice was sought from Lisbon, and on receiving this the advance on Badajoz went ahead, but Tessé in the meantime had managed to reinforce the garrison, and the operation was called off on 5 July. The searing heat of summer had brought everything to a halt once again, with the attempt to take Badajoz only being restarted in September, the allies marching around the fortress and
making their approach from the eastwards to invest the place. Tessé manoeuvred to hamper the allies but without much success, and the siege batteries soon began to open a breach in the walls. Galway was wounded in the arm by a French roundshot fired from the town, and the limb had to amputated by a French surgeon sent by Tessé to attend the stricken earl. On 14 October the marshal approached from Talavera la Real in a determined attempt to lift the siege, and after some skirmishing and long range bombarding the allied commanders agreed that they had to withdraw, each blaming the other for their lack of success, although Galway in his stricken state could hardly have been be said to be to responsible for it.
While the allied campaign on the border with Spain languished, fresh troops had come from England, accompanied by Charles Mordaunt, the brilliant and devious Earl of Peterborough, once described rather maliciously as ‘the ramblingest lying rogue on earth’.27 The intention was that this force would proceed to the Mediterranean to assist the Duke of Savoy, or if that were not possible or necessary, to take some important place on the Spanish coastline – Catalonia was seen as a promising option. Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell commanded the fleet, and the instructions which they both carried from Queen Anne were comprehensive and also to the point:
Nothing could be of more importance to the Common Cause or prove more conducing to the establishment of King Charles III on the Throne of Spain, than the possession of Barcelona and Cadiz, we therefore command you to concur to the utmost of your power with all such measures as may be proposed to you for the reduction of these important places … Being arrived on the coast of Catalonia we require and command you to do the best that you can to induce the Catalans to co-operate with you for the reduction of Spain to the obedience of King Charles III, and you are to encourage those people whom we think well affected to the House of Austria to shake off the yoke of France; and to animate them to prosecute their Liberty with more vigour, you are hereby empowered to assure them that they shall not want Our support, and you may promise in Our name that We will secure them a Confirmation of their Rights and Liberties.28
Fine and encouraging words and promises that would have a hollow ring when England tired of the war. There was also more than just a hint of menace in tone as the Queen went on with her instructions:
In case you find no suitable Returns from the Catalans and Spaniards to Our kind offers, and that they are not to be prevailed on by fair means to espouse the interests of the House of Austria, then you are to take the proper measures for annoying the towns on the Coast of Spain and reduce them by force.29
Archduke Charles, with his largely Austrian retinue, boarded Shovell’s squadron with Peterborough in attendance as the nominated commander-in-chief, and the whole expedition sailed from the Tagus on 26 July 1705. Charles had managed to discharge some of his debts in Lisbon by means of a loan arranged for him by John Methuen, partly secured on two Spanish ships laden with silver that had been seized in Rio de Janeiro. A stop was made at Gibraltar to take on board Prince George of Hesse-Darmstadt, together with some of the veteran troops in the garrison there, before proceeding northwards.
Prince George urged that a landing in Valencia be attempted, with the chance of an early advance on Madrid from the relatively exposed south, but after some heated discussion it was agreed instead to try and seize Barcelona and raise Catalonia for Charles’s cause. The difficulty was that the Spanish viceroy in the town, Count Francisco Don Velasco, was a highly competent soldier and had a decent-sized garrison of non-Catalan troops under his command; he had also put some local notables under house arrest on suspicion of supporting the Habsburg claimant’s cause – a number of Prince George’s old friends were imprisoned just in case they gave trouble. In consequence, taking control of Barcelona would be no simple matter, especially as the expedition had no formal siege train, although this lack might be made good by landing some of the guns from Shovell’s warships. However, there was room for optimism, as it was known that the Catalans would support anyone who offered to restore and uphold their ancient rights and privileges, and they had little regard for the French prince who had taken the throne in Madrid and would almost certainly do no such thing.
The allied squadron stopped off Altea in the second week of August, and met a warm welcome, and the port of Denia was occupied without resistance; the earlier suggestions that a landing in Valencia might be the best course to take appeared to have been born out. Encouraged by this, Peterborough suggested a landing at Alicante, but Archduke Charles urged the merits of encouraging a Catalan uprising. Once the archduke had established himself, and installed a viceroy in Barcelona, he could always go on to the domains he claimed in Italy if it were necessary. Of course, Catalonia would not declare for him if he did not take the trouble to go there, and that was the conclusive argument in favour of an attempt on Barcelona. Given the known factors as they stood at the time, and even acknowledging the pro-Habsburg sentiment evident in Valencia, of which advantage might have been taken, the decision to go on to Catalonia was not necessarily a bad one.
An easterly wind delayed progress, but after a preliminary visit to Mataró to meet a local deputation which had already declared their support, some 7,000 allied marines and infantrymen began to land on the beaches to the north of Barcelona on 22 August 1705; the archduke went ashore from an English warship and once more received a warm reception from those local people who gathered on the beach. A headquarters for the expedition was established at San Martin on the river Besos, but there were no Catalan forces formed and ready to go on campaign, despite rumours that they would be able to do so. Some local irregular troops – a raffish band known as Miquelets – were available and these men were hardy and adventurous with a zest for fighting. They offered to serve Charles but were reluctant to take orders or submit to discipline, and as a result were often more of a hindrance than a help. After the successful and unopposed landing, there was a pause of three weeks while the leaders of the expedition discussed what best to do next; valuable time for good campaigning was frittered away with endless and apparently aimless talking. There was even a suggestion that the operation against Barcelona be abandoned and the whole squadron take itself off to Italy. The season was now too far advanced for that to be practical, and on 7 September the naval commanders flatly said so. Peterborough mentioned the advantages of Valencia once more, while an alternative, to march on the relatively less formidable towns of Tarragona and Tortosa was also considered. At length, it was agreed that Barcelona should be attacked as intended before the landing commenced, and once taken, the belated decision was at last pushed forward with some resolution.
The defences of Barcelona were secured on the strength of the fortress of Montjuich, sitting some 1,000 yards to the south-west of the St Paul’s demi-lune on the main walls of the New Town, Information received from locals, and the occasional deserter from the garrison, indicated that Montjuich was weakly held and in a poor state of repair. Prince George was sceptical, as his own information was that the fort had been strengthened, but as the allies had shown no interest so far in the south side of Barcelona, all de Velasco’s attention had been devoted to the defences of the northern and western walls. Peterborough, full of enthusiasm and energy once more, saw the potential opportunity and seized the chance offered. Plans for the projected advance on Tarragona having been shelved, on 13 September the earl put the plan to attack Fort Montjuich to his commander of artillery, Colonel John Richards, a Catholic soldier holding a Portuguese commission. Prince George of course was included in the discussions, which proceeded with such discretion that regimental commanders were only told their objective when they were about to step off with their troops that evening. As a matter of form, Archduke Charles had also to be told, but instead of taking offence at not being really included in the planning, he sent a message of good luck and God speed to the marching commanders.30
A close reconnaissance of the route to be taken on Monday 14 September had not been possible, as secrecy had to b
e preserved as much as possible. The track ran in pitch darkness through the village of Sarria and across over ten miles of difficult country marched, with only local guides for assistance and these managed to get lost more than once. A soldier who took part remembered: ‘That night we marched as if we were going to our shipping, but we marched all night and took a compass round the back-side of the city.’31 Dawn was almost upon the allied column of 1,000 weary soldiers as they at last reached the foot of the hill on which Fort Montjuich stood. English grenadiers quickly took possession of the covered way which linked the fort with the St Paul’s demi-lune, and cut off any hope of assistance being sent from the main garrison. A party of Spanish soldiers in the covered way took refuge in a small redoubt nearby, while the Neapolitan troops in Fort Montjuich opened fire as the growing light of early morning showed the allied soldiers climbing the hill towards them. Peterborough and Prince George were with the leading echelon of attackers, but the earl went back along the line of march to hurry along the main body of allied troops, who seemed to yet again have missed the right turning.
The prince, eager to ensure that the troops in Fort Montjuich should not be supported from the town, rode forward towards the redoubt, and was struck in the thigh by a musket ball, receiving a fatal wound. A degree of confusion amongst the attackers resulted, and a smart sortie by the defenders in the redoubt drove the allied soldiers back down the hill, where they were met by Peterborough who had brought up the main body of men. Furious at this repulse, he calmed the shaken soldiers and led them back up the slope once more, and this time they seized and held the outer works of Fort Montjuich. Colonel Richards wrote that ‘My Lord Peterborough had all the success imaginable, and without any flattery entitles us to all that followed.’32 The earl afterwards wrote to his wife that ‘We marched a thousand men thirteen hours, and with scaling ladders took the place upon a rock … I was forced to lead them on with the Prince of Hesse, who was killed.’33 With the attacking force thus firmly established, too well entrenched to be pushed out by a sortie from the garrison in Barcelona (even if Don Velasco had attempted to do so, which he did not), and with Miquelet sharpshooters holding parts of the covered way leading to the hill, it was possible to land guns from the warships waiting offshore. A bombardment of Fort Montjuich was begun, and two days later a lucky shot, from 7in mortars commanded and directed by the Dutch Colonel and Fire-master Schellundt, detonated the magazine, killing the Neapolitan commander, Colonel Carraccioli, and several of his officers while they sat at dinner. This sealed the fate of the fort, and facing an imminent storm the survivors of the small garrison submitted without further delay.
The War of the Spanish Succession (1701-1714) Page 13
