Meanwhile, as I have promised to relate, in a continuous narrative, all
our military operations of this year, let me say what passed in other
directions. The siege of Barcelona made no progress. Our engineers were
so slow and so ignorant, that they did next to nothing. They were so
venal, too, that they aided the enemy rather than us by their movements.
According to a new rule made by the King, whenever they changed the
position of their guns, they were entitled to a pecuniary recompense.
Accordingly, they passed all their time in uselessly changing about from
place to place, in order to receive the recompense which thus became due
to them.
Our fleet, too, hearing that a much superior naval force was coming to
the assistance of the enemy, and being, thanks to Pontchartrain, utterly
unable to meet it, was obliged to weigh anchor, and sailed away to
Toulon. The enemy's fleet arrived, and the besieged at once took new
courage. Tesse, who had joined the siege, saw at once that it was
useless to continue it. We had for some time depended upon the open sea
for supplies. Now that the English fleet had arrived, we could depend
upon the sea no longer. The King of Spain saw, at last, that there was
no help for it but to raise the siege.
It was raised accordingly on the night between the 10th and 11th of May,
after fourteen days' bombardment. We abandoned one hundred pieces of
artillery; one hundred and fifty thousand pounds of powder; thirty
thousand sacks of flour; twenty thousand sacks of sevade, a kind of oats;
and a great number of bombs, cannon-balls, and implements. As Catalonia
was in revolt, it was felt that retreat could not take place in that
direction; it was determined, therefore, to retire by the way of the
French frontier. For eight days, however, our troops were harassed in
flank and rear by Miquelets, who followed us from mountain to mountain.
It was not until the Duc de Noailles, whose father had done some service
to the chiefs of these Miquelets, had parleyed with them, and made terms
with them, that our troops were relieved from these cruel wasps. We
suffered much loss in our retreat, which, with the siege, cost us full
four thousand men. The army stopped at Roussillon, and the King of
Spain, escorted by two regiments of dragoons, made the best of his way to
Madrid. That city was itself in danger from the Portuguese, and, indeed,
fell into their hands soon after. The Queen, who, with her children, had
left it in time to avoid capture, felt matters to be in such extremity,
that she despatched all the jewels belonging to herself and her husband
to France. They were placed in the custody of the King. Among them was
that famous pear-shaped pearl called the Peregrine, which, for its
weight, its form, its size, and its water, is beyond all price and all
comparison.
The King of Spain effected a junction with the army of Berwick, and both
set to work to reconquer the places the Portuguese had taken from them.
In this they were successful. The Portuguese, much harassed by the
people of Castille, were forced to abandon all they had gained; and the
King of Spain was enabled to enter Madrid towards the end of September,
where he was received with much rejoicing.
In Italy we experienced the most disastrous misfortunes. M. de Vendome,
having been called from the command to go into Flanders, M. d'Orleans,
after some deliberation, was appointed to take his place. M. d'Orleans
set out from Paris on the 1st of July, with twenty-eight horses and five
chaises, to arrive in three days at Lyons, and then to hasten on into
Italy. La Feuillade was besieging Turin. M. d'Orleans went to the
siege. He was magnificently received by La Feuillade, and shown all over
the works. He found everything defective. La Feuillade was very young,
and very inexperienced. I have already related an adventure of his, that
of his seizing upon the coffers of his uncle, and so forestalling his
inheritance. To recover from the disgrace this occurrence brought upon
him, he had married a daughter of Chamillart. Favoured by this minister,
but coldly looked upon by the King, he had succeeded in obtaining command
in the army, and had been appointed to conduct this siege. Inflated by
the importance of his position, and by the support of Chamillart, he
would listen to no advice from any one. M. d'Orleans attempted to bring
about some changes, and gave orders to that effect, but as soon as he was
gone, La Feuillade countermanded those orders and had everything his own
way. The siege accordingly went on with the same ill-success as before.
M. d'Orleans joined M. de Vendome on the 17th of July, upon the Mincio.
The pretended hero had just made some irreparable faults. He had allowed
Prince Eugene to pass the Po, nearly in front of him, and nobody knew
what had become of twelve of our battalions posted near the place where
this passage had been made. Prince Eugene had taken all the boats that
we had upon the river. We could not cross it, therefore, and follow the
enemy without making a bridge. Vendome feared lest his faults should be
perceived. He wished that his successor should remain charged with them.
M. d'Orleans, indeed, soon saw all the faults that M. de Vendome had
committed, and tried hard to induce the latter to aid him to repair them.
But M. de Vendome would not listen to his representations, and started
away almost immediately to take the command of the army in Flanders,
leaving M. d'Orleans to get out of the difficulty as he might.
M. d'Orleans, abandoned to himself (except when interfered with by
Marechal de Marsin, under whose tutelage he was), could do nothing. He
found as much opposition to his plans from Marsin as he had found from M.
de Vendome. Marsin wished to keep in the good graces of La Feuillade,
son-in-law of the all-powerful minister, and would not adopt the views of
M. d'Orleans. This latter had proposed to dispute the passage of the
Tanaro, a confluent of the Po, with the enemy, or compel them to accept
battle. An intercepted letter, in cypher, from Prince Eugene to the
Emperor, which fell into our hands, proved, subsequently, that this
course would have been the right one to adopt; but the proof came too
late; the decyphering table having been forgotten at Versailles!
M. d'Orleans had in the mean time been forced to lead his army to Turin,
to assist the besiegers, instead of waiting to stop the passage of the
troops that were destined for the aid of the besieged. He arrived at
Turin on the 28th of August, in the evening. La Feuillade, now under two
masters, grew, it might be imagined, more docile. But no! He allied
himself with Marsin (without whom M. d'Orleans could do nothing), and so
gained him over that they acted completely in accord. When M. d'Orleans
was convinced, soon after his arrival, that the enemy was approaching to
succour Turin, he suggested that they should be opposed as they attempted
the passage of the Dora.
But his advice was not listened to. He was displeased with everything.
He found that all the orders he had given had been disregarded. He found
the siege works bad, imperfect, very wet, and very ill-guarded. He tried
to remedy all these defects, but he was opposed at every step. A council
of war was held. M. d'Orleans stated his views, but all the officers
present, with one honourable exception, servilely chimed in with the
views of Marsin and La Feuillade, and things remained as they were.
M. d'Orleans, thereupon, protested that he washed his hands of all the
misfortunes that might happen in consequence of his advice being
neglected. He declared that as he was no longer master over anything,
it was not just that he should bear any part of the blame which would
entail to those in command. He asked, therefore, for his post-chaise,
and wished immediately to quit the army. La Feuillade and Marsin,
however, begged him to remain, and upon second thoughts he thought it
better to do so. The simple reason of all this opposition was, that La
Feuillade, being very young and very vain, wished to have all the honours
of the siege. He was afraid that if the counsel of M. d'Orleans
prevailed, some of that honour would be taken from him. This was the
real reason, and to this France owes the disastrous failure of the siege
of Turin.
After the council of war, M. d'Orleans ceased to take any share in the
command, walked about or stopped at home, like a man who had nothing to
do with what was passing around him. On the night of the 6th to the 7th
of September, he rose from his bed alarmed by information sent to him in
a letter, that Prince Eugene was about to attack the castle of Pianezza,
in order to cross the Dora, and so proceed to attack the besiegers. He
hastened at once to Marsin, showed him the letter, and recommended that
troops should at once be sent to dispute the passage of a brook that the
enemies had yet to cross, even supposing them to be masters of Pianezza.
Even as he was speaking, confirmation of the intelligence he had received
was brought by one of our officers. But it was resolved, in the Eternal
decrees, that France should be struck to the heart that day.
Marsin would listen to none of the arguments of M. d'Orleans. He
maintained that it would be unsafe to leave the lines; that the news was
false; that Prince Eugene could not possibly arrive so promptly; he would
give no orders; and he counselled M. d'Orleans to go back to bed. The
Prince, more piqued and more disgusted than ever, retired to his quarters
fully resolved to abandon everything to the blind and deaf, who would
neither see nor hear.
Soon after entering his chamber the news spread from all parts of the
arrival of Prince Eugene. He did not stir. Some general officers came,
and forced him to mount his horse. He went forth negligently at a
walking pace. What had taken place during the previous days had made so
much noise that even the common soldiers were ashamed of it. They liked
him, and murmured because he would no longer command them. One of them
called him by his name, and asked him if he refused them his sword. This
question did more than all that the general officers had been able to do.
M. d'Orleans replied to the soldier, that he would not refuse to serve
them, and at once resolved to lend all his aid to Marsin and La
Feuillade.
But it was no longer possible to leave the lines. The enemy was in
sight, and advanced so diligently, that there was no time to make
arrangements. Marsin, more dead than alive, was incapable of giving any
order or any advice. But La Feuillade still persevered in his obstinacy.
He disputed the orders of the Duc d'Orleans, and prevented their
execution, possessed by I know not what demon.
The attack was commenced about ten o'clock in the morning, was pushed
with incredible vigour, and sustained, at first, in the same manner.
Prince Eugene poured his troops into those places which the smallness of
our forces had compelled us to leave open. Marsin, towards the middle of
the battle, received a wound which incapacitated him from further
service, end was taken prisoner immediately after. Le Feuillade ran
about like a madman, tearing his hair, and incapable of giving any order.
The Duc d'Orleans preserved his coolness, and did wonders to save the
day. Finding our men beginning to waver, he called the officers by their
names, aroused the soldiers by his voice, and himself led the squadrons
and battalions to the charge. Vanquished at last by pain, and weakened
by the blood he had lost, he was constrained to retire a little, to have
his wounds dressed. He scarcely gave himself time for this, however, but
returned at once where the fire was hottest. Three times the enemy had
been repulsed and their guns spiked by one of our officers, Le Guerchois,
with his brigade of the old marine, when, enfeebled by the losses he had
sustained, he called upon a neighbouring brigade to advance with him to
oppose a number of fresh battalions the enemy had sent against him. This
brigade and its brigadier refused bluntly to aid him. It was positively
known afterwards, that had Le Guerchois sustained this fourth charge,
Prince Eugene would have retreated.
This was the last moment of the little order that there had been at this
battle. All that followed was only trouble, confusion, disorder, flight,
discomfiture. The most terrible thing is, that the general officers,
with but few exceptions, more intent upon their equipage and upon what
they had saved by pillage, added to the confusion instead of diminishing
it, and were worse than useless.
M. d'Orleans, convinced at last that it was impossible to re-establish
the day, thought only how to retire as advantageously as possible. He
withdrew his light artillery, his ammunition, everything that was at the
siege, even at the most advanced of its works, and attended to everything
with a presence of mind that allowed nothing to escape him. Then,
gathering round him all the officers he could collect, he explained to
them that nothing but retreat was open to them, and that the road to
Italy was that which they ought to pursue. By this means they would
leave the victorious army of the enemy in a country entirely ruined and
desolate, and hinder it from returning into Italy, where the army of the
King, on the contrary, would have abundance, and where it would cut off
all succour from the others.
This proposition dismayed to the last degree our officers, who hoped at
least to reap the fruit of this disaster by returning to France with the
money with which they were gorged. La Feuillade opposed it with so much
impatience, that the Prince, exasperated by an effrontery so sustained,
told him to hold his peace and let others speak. Others did speak, but
only one was for following the counsel of M. d'Orleans. Feeling himself
now, however, the master, he stopped all further discussion, and gave
orders that the retreat to Italy should commence. This was all he could
do. His body and his brain were equally exhausted. After having waited
some little time, he was compelled to throw himself into a post-chaise,
and in that to continue the journey.
The officers obeyed his orders most unwillingly. They murmured amongst
each other so loudly that the Duc d'Orleans, justly irritated by so much
opposition to his will, made them hold their peace. The retreat
continued. But it was decreed that the spirit of error and vertigo
should ruin us and save the allies. As the army was about to cross the
bridge over the Ticino, and march into Italy, information was brought to
M. d'Orleans, that the enemy occupied the roads by which it was
indispensable to pass. M. d'Orleans, not believing this intelligence,
persisted in going forward. Our officers, thus foiled, for it was known
afterwards that the story was their invention, and that the passes were
entirely free, hit upon another expedient. They declared there were no
more provisions or ammunition, and that it was accordingly impossible to
go into Italy. M. d'Orleans, worn out by so much criminal disobedience,
and weakened by his wound, could hold out no longer. He threw himself
back in the chaise, and said they might go where they would. The army
therefore turned about, and directed itself towards Pignerol, losing many
equipages from our rear-guard during the night in the mountains, although
that rear-guard was protected by Albergotti, and was not annoyed by the
enemy.
The joy of the enemy at their success was unbounded. They could scarcely
believe in it. Their army was just at its last gasp. They had not more
than four days' supply of powder left in the place. After the victory,
M. de Savoie and Prince Eugene lost no time in idle rejoicings. They
thought only how to profit by a success so unheard of and so unexpected.
They retook rapidly all the places in Piedmont and Lombardy that we
occupied, and we had no power to prevent them.
Never battle cost fewer soldiers than that of Turin; never was retreat
more undisturbed than ours; yet never were results more frightful or more
rapid. Ramillies, with a light loss, cost the Spanish Low Countries and
part of ours: Turin cost all Italy by the ambition of La Feuillade, the
incapacity of Marsin, the avarice, the trickery, the disobedience of the
general officers opposed to M, d'Orleans. So complete was the rout of
our army, that it was found impossible to restore it sufficiently to send
it back to Italy, not at least before the following spring. M. d'Orleans
returned therefore to Versailles, on Monday, the 8th of November, and was
well received by the King. La Feuillade arrived on Monday, the 13th of
December, having remained several days at Paris without daring to go to
Versailles. He was taken to the King by Chamillart. As soon as the King
saw them enter he rose, went to the door, and without giving them time to
utter a word, said to La Feuillade, "Monsieur, we are both very
unfortunate!" and instantly turned his back upon him. La Feuillade, on
the threshold of the door that he had not had time to cross, left the
place immediately, without having dared to say a single word. The King
always afterwards turned his eye from La Feuillade, and would never speak
to him. Such was the fall of this Phaeton. He saw that he had no more
hope, and retired from the army; although there was no baseness that he
did not afterwards employ to return to command. I think there never was
a more wrong-headed man or a man more radically dishonest, even to the
marrow of his bones. As for Marsin, he died soon after his capture, from
the effect of his wounds.