was killed by it, and the garrison in consternation surrendered.
Lord Peterborough could now not only invest the city without annoyance from the castle, but could turn the guns of the castle on the Spaniards, showing the correctness of his ideas in opposition to the red-tape of war. He pursued the siege with such effect, that Velasquez, the governor, agreed to surrender in four days if he did not receive relief in that time; but he was not able to hold out even these four days, for the country swarmed with Miquelets, a sort of lawless Catalans, who declared for the Austrians. Numbers of these, who had assisted the seamen in throwing bombs from the ketches into the city, and in other operations against the town, now clambered over the walls, and began plundering the inhabitants and violating the women. The governor and his troops were unable to put them down. They threatened to throw open the gates and let in whole hordes of the like rabble, to massacre the people and sack the place. Velasquez was, therefore, compelled, before the expiration of the four days, to call in the assistance of the earl of Peterborough himself, who rode into the city at the head of a body of troops with general Stanhope and other officers, and amid the random firing of the Miquelets, by his commands, and by the occasional use of the flat of their swords, they reduced the marauders to quiet. General Stanhope told bishop Burnet that they were in far more danger in this chivalrous adventure, than they had been either in the siege of the town or castle, though they had lost in the assault of the castle the brave prince of Hesse Darmstadt, the most gallant, sensible, and devoted of all the Germans who figured in the war. Amongst other occurrences, they rescued a beautiful lady from the hands of the rabble, who turned out to be the duchess of Popoli, and restored her safe and sound to her husband, the duke de Popoli, who was in the place. Having quelled this frightful riot, lord Peterborough and his attendants again quitted the city, and waited the rest of the four days, much to the astonishment of the Spaniards, who had been taught to look on the English as a species of lawless and heretical barbarians. The city of Barcelona surrendered on the day appointed, and immediately the whole of Catalonia, and every fortified place in it, except Rosas, declared for Charles.
The earl of Peterborough did not, however, pause in his movements. He marched for St. Matteo, at a distance of thirty leagues, to raise the siege carried on by the forces of king Philip. Through roads such as Spain has always been famous for down to the campaigns of Wellington, he plunged and dragged along his cannon, appeared before Matteo in a week, raised the siege, and again set forward towards the city of Valencia, which he speedily reduced, and took in it the marquis de Villa-Garcia, the viceroy, and the archbishop. A council of war was held, and it was resolved, that the king Charles and the earl of Peterborough should continue in Catalonia; that Sir Cloudesley Shovel should return to England, leaving twenty-five English and fifteen Dutch ships at Lisbon for the winter under the command of Sir John Leake, and admiral Wassenaer and four English and two Dutch ships should remain at Barcelona. King Charles wrote, by the admiral, letters of warm acknowledgments to the queen of England for her brilliant aid, and Velasquez was sent to Malaga with a thousand men of his garrison. Don Raphael Nevat revolted from Philip with a regiment of horse, and joined general Ramos at Denia. The count de Cifuentes, at the head of the Miquelets and Catalans, kept sundry other towns in order.
The earl of Peterborough, still active as ever, purchased horses and mounted a body of cavalry, and was ready to march to any quarter that might demand aid. Soon every place in Catalonia and Valencia acknowledged the authority of king Charles except the seaport of Alicant. The whole campaign resembled more a piece of romance than a reality. The earl's own officers could scarcely believe their senses; and as for the Spaniards, they said he had a devil in him, and was master of all magic and necromancy.
The only misfortune which attended the English arms during this campaign was the taking of the homeward-bound Baltic fleet, convoyed by three ships of war. The French, however, paid dear for the capture, which was made by overwhelming force, by the loss of the ablest admiral of France, count de St. Paul, who was killed in the action. On being told of the success of this action, Louis replied, "Very well; I wish the ships were safe in any English port, and that I had St. Paul alive again."
The war of whig and tory had been going on as fiercely at home as the war of arms in the Netherlands or Spain. But the Marlboroughs were now determined against the tories, and every day their struggles of opposition only sunk that party deeper in the royal disfavour. The queen gave the great seal to Mr. William Cowper, a man of good family, of great talents, and oratorical powers, and a most enthusiastic admirer of the principles of the revolution, but a man of loose moral principles, which are pointed out by Sir Walter Scott in his notes to the life of Swift;—"Some unfortunate stains," he says, "are attached to this ingenious family. Lord chancellor Cowper (he was yet only made lord keeper) was branded with bigamy because he had written a work on plurality of wives,—had, adds Voltaire, actually two lady Cowpers in his domestic régime. His brother, the judge, had been previously tried for the murder of a young woman, one Sarah Stout, whom he had deluded into a feigned marriage while he had a wife alive. The poor creature, a beautiful quakeress, was found drowned in a pond, and he was the last person seen in her company under circumstances of great suspicion."
But lord keeper Cowper had the favour of lady Marlborough, and that was enough. Besides this, the whig duke of Newcastle received the privy seal, which was taken from the duke of Buckingham—the same man who was the earl of Mulgrave in Charles II's reign, was afterwards marquis of Normanby, and in his youth had had the presumption to make the princess Anne an offer of his hand. This, however, was clearly not remembered by Anne amongst his offences, for, on her accession, he was made a cabinet minister, lord privy seal, and duke of Buckingham. He is described as a man of "learning and good natural points" by a contemporary, "but of no principles; very proud, insolent, and ready to take all advantages; in paying his debts unwilling, and neither esteemed nor beloved," &c.
The dismission of these noblemen made them violent
