Upon the arrival of the Earl of Peterborough at Valencia he was received
with the profoundest sympathy and respect by the people, who were filled
with indignation at the treatment which the man whose daring and genius
had freed Catalonia and Valencia of the French had received at the hands
of their ungrateful monarch. Finding that a portion of the fleet had
been ordered to the West Indies, the earl was obliged to abandon his
project of capturing Minorca and then carrying substantial aid to the
Duke of Savoy. He, however, went to Genoa, and there borrowed a hundred
thousand pounds, which he brought back to Valencia and sent to the king
for the use of the army.
The cause of Charles was already well nigh desperate. Castile was lost,
and the enemy were pressing forward to recover Catalonia and Valencia.
Affairs were in the utmost state of confusion. Peterborough's rivals
having got rid of him now quarreled among themselves, or their only bond
of union was their mutual hatred of the earl.
The king himself, while he pretended to flatter him, wrote letters
behind his back to England bringing all sorts of accusations against
him, and succeeded in obtaining an order for his return. Before leaving
he implored the king and his generals to avoid a battle, which would
probably be disastrous, and to content themselves with a defensive war
until Eugene of Savoy and the Duke of Marlborough broke the power of
France elsewhere. His opinion was overruled, and the result was the
disastrous battle of Almanza, in which the hopes of Charles of Austria
of obtaining the crown of Spain were finally crushed.
Peterborough embarked on the 14th of May on board the Resolution, man of
war, commanded by his second son Henry.
The Resolution was accompanied by two frigates, the Enterprise and the
Milford Haven. The King of Spain's envoy to the court of Savoy also
sailed in the Resolution. The earl took with him his two aides de camp,
who were both too indignant at the treatment which their chief had
received to desire to remain with the army in Spain. The little squadron
sailed first for Barcelona, where it only remained a few hours, and then
set sail for Italy.
On the fifth day at sea they fell in with a French fleet of six men
of war. Two carried eighty guns, two seventy, one sixty-eight, and the
other fifty-eight. The Resolution was a slow sailer, and the French, who
at once gave chase, gained rapidly upon her. As resistance against such
overwhelming odds seemed hopeless, Peterborough determined to go with
the Spanish envoy and the state papers on board the Enterprise. There
was little time for reflection. A small boat was lowered, and the earl,
with a hasty adieu to his son, Jack, and Graham, descended the ship's
side with the Spanish envoy and rowed away to the Enterprise.
“We are fated to see the inside of a French prison, after all,” Jack
said to Graham.
“I don't know, Stilwell. We have both been in their hands once, and
did not stay there long. I can hardly believe that our luck's going to
desert us at last.”
“I don't see much chance of our escape this time, Graham. Six ships
against one are too great odds even for English sailors. The smallest of
them carries as many guns as we do, and once a prisoner on board a ship
there is no slipping away.”
“We are not prisoners yet, Jack, and I don't think that Mordaunt will
strike his flag without a struggle, though they are six to one. He is
just his father over again as far as courage goes.”
“Well, I hope, anyhow, the earl will get away,” Jack said. “If it hadn't
been for all those state papers he is burdened with I am sure he would
have stuck to the Resolution and fought it out. It would be just
the kind of desperate adventure to suit him. See, he has reached the
Enterprise, and she and the Milford Haven are spreading every sail; but
although they will leave us behind I question whether they will outsail
the French. They are coming up fast.”
“It will soon be dark,” Graham said, “and they may be able to slip away.
You may be sure the French will attend to us first, as being the most
valuable prize.”
“Well, gentlemen,” Captain Mordaunt said, coming up to them, “you are
going to have a piece of new experience. I know you have been through
some apparently hopeless conflicts on land with my father, but I don't
think you have ever seen a sea fight.”
“Are you going to fight them all, sir?” Jack asked.
“I am going to try,” the captain said. “My orders were to go to Leghorn,
and to Leghorn I mean to go if the ship floats; but I tell you honestly
I do not think there is much chance of our getting there. Still, as long
as the ship floats, the British flag will float over her.”
“Is there anything we can do, sir?” Jack asked. “We shall be happy
to serve as volunteers in any capacity in which you think we may be
useful.”
“Until it comes to boarding I fear that you cannot help,” the
captain said, “except by walking about between decks and cheering and
inspiriting the men. The presence of officers looking cool and confident
among them always does good. If the enemy try to board us you shall
fight by my side.”
The two fastest sailing French vessels were so close when night fell
that it was hopeless to try to evade them either by changing the ship's
course or by lowering the sails. At ten o'clock they were less than a
mile astern, one on either quarter. The ship had long since been ready
for action, and the men were now called to the guns; but the enemy did
not open fire, but could, by the night glasses, be seen somewhat
to shorten sail so as to keep about the same distance behind the
Resolution.
“Cowardly dogs,” the young captain said, “they do not mean to fight
until the whole of their consorts come up. However, we ought not to
grumble, as every hour takes us so much nearer port.”
He then ordered the men to lie down by the guns and get what sleep they
could until the enemy opened fire. Jack and Graham, finding that there
was nothing to be done, threw themselves into their hammocks, and slept
till five o'clock in the morning. They were then aroused, and went on
deck. The six French ships had now all come up, and were coming on in a
body.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” the young captain said gayly. “We have a fine
morning for our amusement. I wish the wind would freshen a little more
so as to take this lubberly old ship faster through the water.”
At six o'clock the leading vessel of the French squadron opened fire,
and at the signal her consorts all followed her example. Some of them
were now almost abreast of the Resolution, and the iron shower tore
through her sails and cut her rigging. She answered with a broadside
from both sides, and the battle commenced in earnest.
In all the annals of British seamanship there is no more heroic story
than that of the fight between the Resolution and the six French men of
war. From six in the morning until half past three in the afternoon she
maintained the unequal contest, still keeping on under full sail toward
her port, only yawing occasionally to pour a broadside into one or other
of her foes. They were now running along the coast, and the peasants on
the distant hills must have watched with astonishment the unequal fight
as the vessels pressed on past them. By half past three the Resolution
was little more than a wreck. Her sails were riddled with holes, many
of her spars shot away, her sides ragged and torn, and many of her
crew killed, but the remainder of the crew still fought their guns
unflinchingly.
“We can do no more,” Captain Mordaunt said to Jack. “The carpenter has
just reported that the mainmast is so seriously injured that at any
moment it may go over the side. It is impossible to hope any longer to
reach Leghorn, but my ship I am determined they shall not have.”
So saying, he gave orders to the first lieutenant, and the vessel's head
was suddenly turned straight toward the shore. The French, astonished at
so desperate a course, did not venture to follow her, and the Resolution
threaded her way through the dangerous reefs till at last she brought up
with a sudden crash which sent her tottering mainmast over the side.
The French advanced cautiously until nearing the reefs, and then opened
a distant fire, which the Resolution did not return. The captain ordered
the exhausted crew from their guns, a strong allowance of grog was
served out, and after a meal the men felt again ready for work. Jack
and his companion were at dinner with the captain, when the officer in
charge of the deck reported that the French ships were lowering their
boats.
“Let the men rest as long as possible, Mr. Darwin, but when you see the
boats fairly on their way toward us beat to quarters.”
A few minutes later the roll of the drums was heard. “Now, gentlemen, we
will go on deck,” the captain said, “since they will not let us alone.
But if their ships could not take us I do not think that their boats
will have much chance.”
Dusk was closing in when they went on deck and saw all the boats of the
six French men of war, crowded with men, rowing in a line toward them.
The captain gave the order for the men to load with grape. As soon as
the French flotilla came well within range the word was given, and a
storm of balls swept their line.
Several of the boats were sunk at once, the others paused to pick up
their comrades from the water, and then again dashed forward; but by
this time the guns were again loaded, and the hail of iron again crashed
into them. With splendid bravery the French still advanced until close
to the ship. Then Captain Mordaunt ordered all the lower deck guns to
be run in and the ports closed, and the crew to come on deck. While some
worked the upper guns, others kept up a heavy fire of musketry upon the
boats, which swarmed round the ship.
Again and again the French made determined efforts to board, but they
were unable to climb the lofty sides of the ship. At length, after
suffering terrible loss, the French sailors gave up the attempt and
rowed sullenly off to their ships, covered by the darkness from the
English fire. Captain Mordaunt took off his cap and gave the signal,
and a hearty cheer arose from the crew. The night passed quietly,
the terribly diminished crew lay down as they stood by the guns, in
readiness to repel another attack, should it be attempted. The next
morning one of the French eighty gun ships got under way, and, with
merely a rag of canvas shown, and her boats rowing ahead and sounding
to find a channel through the reefs, gradually made her way toward the
Resolution.
“Well, gentlemen,” the captain said, “I think you will agree with me
that nothing further can be done. The ship is already half full of
water, the magazine is flooded, and the whole of the powder wetted.
The ship is a wreck, and I should be only throwing away the men's lives
uselessly by attempting further resistance.”
The officers thoroughly agreed, and with the greatest coolness the
captain gave his orders for the abandonment of the vessel. Although the
French man of war had now opened fire, all the wounded, the whole of
the crew, the flags, papers, and everything of value were placed in the
boats, and the vessel was then set on fire in a dozen places.
After superintending everything personally, and making sure that the
fire had obtained such a hold that it could not be extinguished, Captain
Mordaunt ordered the officers to descend into the boats. Just as he
was about to leave the deck himself, the last man on board the ship,
a cannon shot from the French man of war struck him in the leg. The
officers ran back and raised him from the deck.
“It might have been worse,” he said cheerfully. “Now, gentlemen, will
you carry me down and place me in my gig, and then take your boats as
arranged? Be careful, as you row toward shore, to keep the Resolution
between you and the Frenchman's guns.”
Everything was done steadily and in order, and the survivors of the crew
of the Resolution reached the shore without further loss. The Resolution
was now in a blaze from end to end, and by eleven o'clock she was burned
to the water's edge. Mordaunt and his crew were kindly received by the
people of the country. As the captain himself would not be able to move
for some time, Jack and Graham said adieu to him and posted to Turin,
where the earl had told them that he should go direct from Leghorn.
They arrived before him, but twenty-four hours after they had reached
the capital of Savoy the earl arrived. He had already heard rumors of
the desperate fight between the Resolution and the enemy, and that his
son had been wounded. His aides de camp were now able to assure him
that, although serious, Captain Mordaunt's wounds were not likely to be
fatal, and Peterborough was delighted with the narrative of the gallant
achievement of his son. Shortly afterward an imperative order for his
return reaching the earl, he set out for England through Germany with
his two aides de camp. Peterborough was suffering from illness caused by
the immense exertions he had made through the campaign, and traveled but
slowly. He visited many of the German courts, and went for a few days to
the camp of Charles of Sweden in Saxony.
After this, by special invitation, he journeyed to the camp of the Duke
of Marlborough at Genappes, where he was received with much honor by the
great commander. He presented to him his two aides de camp.
“They have, my lord duke,” he said, “been my faithful friends throughout
the whole campaign in Spain, they have shared all my dangers, and any
credit I may have gained is due in no small degree to their zeal and
activity. It is unlikely that I shall again command an army in the
field, and therefore I would recommend them to you. They will accompany
me to England, for they, too, need a rest, after their exertions; after
that I trust that they may be sent out to fight under your orders, and
I trust that you will keep them in your eye, and will give them the
advantage of your protection and favor.”
The duke promised to do so, and, after a few days' stay in the camp, the
earl with his two followers started for England, where he arrived on the
20th of August, 1707, nearly two years to a day from the date when he
had appeared, with a force under his command, before Barcelona. But
the campaign itself, so far as he was concerned, had lasted less than
a year, as it was in August, 1706, that he rode into Valencia, after
having been deprived of his command.
In that year he exhibited military qualities which have never been
surpassed. Daring to the point of extreme rashness where there was a
possibility of success, he was prudent and cautious in the extreme when
prudence was more necessary than daring. With absurdly insufficient
means he all but conquered Spain for Charles of Austria, and would have
succeeded in doing so altogether had he not, from first to last,
been thwarted and hampered by jealousy, malignity, stupidity, and
irresolution on the part of the king, his courtiers, and the generals
who should have been the earl's assistants, but who were his rivals,
detractors, and enemies.
It must be owned that Peterborough owed this opposition in some degree
to himself. He was impatient of fools, and took no pains to conceal his
contempt and dislike for those whose intellects were inferior to his
own. His independence of spirit and eccentricity of manner set the
formal German and Spanish advisers of the king against him, and although
adored by the officers and men who served under him, he made almost
every man of rank approaching his own who came in contact with him his
personal enemy. Among the bulk of the Spanish people of the provinces in
which he warred he was beloved as well as admired, and even to this day
legends of the brilliant and indefatigable English general are still
current among the people of Catalonia and Valencia. No man ever served
the cause to which he devoted himself with greater zeal and sincerity.
He was lavish of his own private means in its interest, and, even when
his advice and opinion were most slighted, he was ready to sacrifice
himself, his rank, and dignity to the good of the cause. Had he had
the good fortune to command an army of his own countrymen unfettered by
others, it is probable that he would have gained a renown equal to that
of the greatest commanders the world has known.
The great services which he had rendered were warmly felt and
acknowledged by the people of England on his return, and the attempts
of his enemies to undermine his reputation were confuted by the
papers which he brought back with him. For a time Peterborough took a
considerable part in politics, and his acrimony in debate so enraged
his enemies that his conduct during the war in Spain was called into
question. A debate on the subject took place. In this he successfully
defended himself from the attacks made against him, and a formal vote of
thanks to him was passed.
Some years afterward he retired altogether from public life, and
privately married Miss Anastasia Robinson, his first wife having died
many years before. Miss Robinson was a singer of the highest repute, of
the most amiable character, and kindest disposition. There was no reason
why the match should not have been publicly acknowledged, as the lady
was held in universal esteem; but, with his usual eccentricity, the earl
insisted on the marriage being kept a secret, and did not announce it
until on his death bed in the year 1735. Lady Peterborough lived in
profound retirement, universally beloved and honored, to the age of
eighty-eight.
Upon arriving in London Jack stayed for a few days with his friend
Graham, whose family lived there. The earl had told the young officer
that he would introduce them to the queen, but, on their calling by
appointment on him at his hotel on the third day after their arrival in
town, Peterborough said:
“You had best go about your own business for a time; the queen is out of
temper. The ears of ministers have been poisoned by lying letters from
my enemies in Spain, but it will all come right in time. As you know, I
have papers which will clear me of every charge that their malignity may
invent. When I am in favor again I will let you know, and will present
you to the queen and minister of war; at any rate, you will like a rest
at home before you set out for the Netherlands, so there will be plenty
of time.”
The next day Jack took his place on the coach for Southampton. He
arrived there after fourteen hours' journey, and put up at a hotel for
the night. The next morning he dressed himself with greater care than
usual, and started for the well remembered shop in the High Street. He
knocked at the private door, and inquired if Mistress Anthony were in.
“Will you say that a gentleman whom she knows wishes to speak to her?”
Jack was shown into the parlor, and in a minute or two Mrs. Anthony
appeared, looking a little flustered at hearing that a grand looking
officer wished to see her. Jack advanced toward her with a smile.
“Why, Jack!” she exclaimed with a scream of delight, “is it you?” and
the good woman threw her arms round his neck and kissed him as if he had
been her own son.
“Of course we got your letters,” she said, “telling us how you had been
made an officer and then a captain. The last letter we had from you was
from Italy; telling us about that great sea fight, and that you were
coming home, but that's eight months ago. We knew you were with my
Lord Peterborough, and we saw in the Intelligencer about his being in
Germany, and last week they said he had come home. We were talking about
you only yesterday, and wondering whether you would come down to see us,
and whether you would know us now you had grown such a fine gentleman,
and being written about in Lord Peterborough's dispatches, and
accustomed to all sorts of grand society.”
“You knew I would,” Jack said; “why, where should I go if not here? And
Alice is quite well, I hope, and grown quite a woman.”
“Not quite a woman yet, Jack, but getting on.” She opened the door and
called Alice, and in a minute the girl ran down. Her mother saw that she
had guessed who the caller was, for she had smoothed her hair and put on
a bright ribbon which her mother had not seen for three years, and which
Jack himself had given her. She paused a moment shyly at the door, for
this young officer, in all the glories of the staff uniform, was a very
grand figure in her eyes.
“How do you do, Cousin Jack?” she said, coming forward, with a bright
color and outstretched hand.
“How are you, Cousin Alice?” Jack said, mimicking her tone; “why, you
little goose,” he exclaimed, catching her in his arms and kissing her,
“you don't suppose I am going to be satisfied with shaking your hand
after being nearly three years away.”
“Oh, but you are so big, Jack, and so grand, it seems different
altogether.”
“You are bigger than you were, Alice, but it does not seem in the least
different to me.”
“Well, I thought you would be quite changed, Jack, and quite different,
now you are a captain, and famous, and all that, and you have seen so
many grand ladies in all the countries you have traveled that--that--”
And she hesitated.
“Well, go on,” Jack said gravely.
“Well, then, that you would have forgotten all about me.”
“Then you are a very bad little girl, Alice, and not half so good as I
thought you were, for you must have a very bad opinion of me, indeed, if
you thought all that of me.”
“I don't think I quite thought so, Jack. Well, I told myself it was only
natural it should be so.”
“We will argue that out presently,” Jack said; “and now, where is Mr.
Anthony?”
“I will call him, Jack,” Mrs. Anthony said. “You have no ill feeling, I
hope, toward him, for you know he really has been very sorry about the
part he took in getting you away, and has blamed himself over and over
again.”
“I never have had,” Jack said; “it has been the best thing that ever
happened to me. If I had had my own way I should still be working before
the mast instead of being a captain in the army.”
Mr. Anthony was soon called in from the store. At first he was a little
awkward and shy, but Jack's heartiness soon put him at his ease.
Jack stayed a fortnight at Southampton, and then, on the receipt of
a letter from the Earl of Peterborough, went up to town, where he was
presented to the queen and afterward to the minister of war by the earl.
A week later he and Graham sailed for the Netherlands and joined the
army of the Duke of Marlborough, and served under that great commander
until, three years later, the war was brought to a conclusion. They were
attached to the staff of one of the generals of division.
The duke kept his promise to the Earl of Peterborough, and kept his eye
on the young officers. Both distinguished themselves in the hard fought
battles in Belgium, and the end of the war found them both colonels.
There being no prospect of further wars the army was greatly reduced,
and Jack was retired on half pay, and as soon as matters were arranged
in London he again made his way down to Southampton, and at once asked
Mr. Anthony's permission to pay his addresses to his daughter.
The ex mayor consented with delight, and, as Alice herself offered
no objection, matters were speedily arranged. Jack's half pay was
sufficient for them to live on comfortably, and Mr. Anthony, in his
gratification at a marriage which he considered did him great honor,
presented her with a handsome sum at her wedding, and the young couple
settled down in a pretty house a short distance out of Southampton.
Jack was never called out again for active service, and lived in the
neighborhood of Southampton until the end of his long life, buying a
small estate there, when, at the death of Mr. Anthony, the handsome
fortune which the cloth merchant had made came to his daughter, subject
to an annuity to Mrs. Anthony, who took up her abode for the rest of
her life with her son-in-law, her daughter, and their children. For many
years Colonel Stilwell sat in parliament as member for Southampton, and
maintained a warm friendship with his ancient commander until the death
of the latter, in 1735.
THE END.