Protestant Exiles from France/Book Second - Chapter 3 - Section V
Sec. 5. — His Services as Lieutenant-General and Ambassador in Piedmont.
Lord Galway was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant-General and sent to Piedmont. Luttrell says: “1st September 1693. — Lord Galway goes to Savoy, to command his Majesty’s troops there, in the room of Duke Schomberg, deceased.” And “1st December 1693. — The Lord Galway has received his credentials to go Ambassador to the Duke of Savoy, and next week he sets forward with a considerable sum of money for the Vaudois and the French refugees.” He embarked from England for Holland, and thence travelled by land to Piedmont about the middle of December. It is well known that Victor Amedeo was already treacherous to his allies. He was ready to be bribed by Louis with honours and territory. During the greater part of this war his winters were spent in secret negotiations. The operations during the summers consisted of either postponements or the mere pageantry of engagements. If an occasional battle was fought in earnest, it was only with the view of extorting more tempting offers to himself from the French king. When I say that this is well known, I mean that this is our present knowledge. From the confederates he concealed his duplicity with great cunning and address.
The Duke of Savoy had, through fear of Louis XIV., issued his persecuting edict against the Waldenses, dated 31st July 1686. But the Duke, by a secret article, dated 20th October 1690, had revoked that edict, and restored to the Waldenses their property, civil rights, usages, and privileges, including the exercise of their religion. What Lord Galway desired was a public edict to the same effect.
As to the year 1694, an anonymous biographer of Prince Eugene says:— “Everybody expected, and not without good grounds, to see a glorious campaign this year in Italy, and took it for granted that the Duke of Savoy would make ample amends for the loss at Marsiglia. Prince Eugene, during his residence at Vienna in the winter, had obtained a large reinforcement of troops with this very view. And the King of Great Britain had sent my Lord Galway to supply the place of the Duke of Schomberg, that nothing might be wanting on his part.”
Besides this, the British fleet was ready to co-operate in any enterprise on the coasts of Italy, Spain, or France. And the French forces were diminished by drafts to the Netherlands, and by troops required to protect Toulon, Marseilles, and other maritime ports. Victor Amedeo, however, negatived all the plans of councils of war. Nothing was done this summer except the taking of the fort of St. Giorgio, and a little skirmishing. The only important event was announced on June 3d — “The Duke of Savoy, at the instance of England and Holland, issued a declaration allowing the Vaudois the free exercise of their religion.” Concerning this Act, which was dated 20th May 1694,[1] Burnet says that it was “a very full edict,” “restoring their former liberties and privileges to them, which the Lord Galway took care to have put in the most emphatical words, and passed with all the formalities of law, to make it as effectual as laws and promises can be. Yet every step that was made in the affair went against the grain, and was extorted from the Duke by the intercession of the King and the States, and by Lord Galway’s zeal.” On one occasion he, by the Duke’s permission, assembled a Protestant Synod at Vegliano, where his quarters were. Durant, chaplain of Aubussargues’ regiment, was president; the members were the almoners of six refugee regiments, and twenty-four eiders, of whom he himself was one. The business was the reformation of the morals of the soldiers. During a recruiting expedition in Switzerland, he met with a deputation from the Waldensian refugees in the Cantons, who wished to emigrate to a less circumscribed region. He promised to endeavour to find a home for them in Ireland. On the 20th December Queen Mary of England died. A letter from Lord Galway to Mr. Blathwait, now in the British Museum, comments on this bereavement:—
“Turin, 22d Jan. (1st Feb.) 16945. — Sir, — May it please God to comfort the king, to bless him in all things, to grant success to all his designs. All England has suffered an irreparable loss. Even by those who knew her Majesty only by reputation, and never received her bounty, our good and great queen is regretted universally. What, then, is due to her memory from those who from experience can testify to all her great and admirable virtues and who have felt the effects of her extraordinary bounty?”
The Duke of Savoy having imposed upon his army a melancholy inaction, we need not regret that no letter of Lord Galway dated before June 1695 has hitherto been printed. Here is the first, dated Camp before Casale (May 31), June 10, 1695:—
“Viscount Galway to the Duke of Shrewsbury. — I am much obliged to you for the honour of your information that the affairs of this country are at present in your department [as one of the Secretaries of State]. I shall have great pleasure in sending you an account of what passes in this court, and in receiving your orders — for I hope you will have the goodness to give me occasional instructions.
“You know, my Lord, that the Duke of Savoy is a prince of great application to war and politics — very penetrating, and very difficult to be penetrated. This last peculiarity of his character would make me very bold, if I ventured to answer for his inclination not only to a separate but also to a general peace. But I judge of the sincerity of his words and actions by his own interests, with which he is well acquainted; and I think I can assure you that all the princes of the league may rely certainly on his firmness. He is a prince who wishes to be master; and nothing pleases him like the command of a large army, and many troops at his disposal. He pays at present 27 battalions, 4 companies of his guards, 2 regiments of cavalry and 3 of dragoons; and we may estimate his effective force at 15,000 foot and 2500 horse. The Spanish have 8000 foot and 3000 horse; the Imperialists, 8000 foot and 4500 horse. Thus, we may reckon on 30,000 infantry and 10,000 cavalry (of whom we must leave in the Milanese, in the quarters of the Imperialists, and in the fortresses of Piedmont, at least 8000 infantry and 1000 horse); so that we may bring into the field about 30,000 men. Under the orders of Monsieur Catinat, in the provinces bordering on the Alps, there are 50,000 foot and 4000 or 5000 horse, without reckoning the ‘Troupes de la Marine,’ who are in Provence under the orders of Monsieur de Tourville, and will not leave the coasts.
“If our affairs were directed by a single and skilful head, we should at least be able to give some annoyance to the enemy. But though our chiefs are men of great merit, and perfectly well-intentioned, they cannot think alike, nor have they the same interests. And it were to be wished, that we had generals of greater experience.
“We are at present engaged in projects for the siege of Casale, for it is true that if we do not undertake it, there is great appearance that we shall spend this campaign (as we did the other) without doing anything. But it is certain that if we finish our lines, and establish a blockade as we ought, we shall soon be masters of it without expense, without loss of men, and without risk. And if we persist in the design of besieging[2] it, we shall encounter many difficulties, we shall lose many men and much time; and the enemy in the interim will take Demont, which will give them a third entrance into Piedmont. It is even to be feared that in the later season they may still farther avail themselves of the weakness to which the siege will have previously reduced our infantry.
“However, since it has been determined to undertake the siege (though I was of a contrary opinion), I urge our generals as much as possible to adopt a decided part; for in speaking perpetually of the siege, we forget the lines and take no measures as elsewhere. I much fear, indeed, that we shall not finish the lines, and shall pass the campaign in the vicinity of Casale. After that, if the enemy choose to attempt anything in Piedmont, we shall not find ourselves in a condition to oppose them, because we shall have adopted no measure for our subsistence in that quarter.
“Such, my Lord, is the present state of our affairs. I will do myself the honour of sending you a regular account. And I humbly beg you to impart your sentiments to me, that I may regulate my conduct for the service of the king and the advantage and prosperity of the nation.”[3]
The desires and projects of the different leaders formed a strange medley. The Duke of Savoy’s whole attention was directed to the fortresses of Casale and Pignerol. The Austrians and Spaniards concentrated their fondness on Italy. Lord Galway’s programme was that the land forces should combine with the British fleet to assault Marseilles or Toulon, with a view to the destruction of the French navy and shipping. Being outvoted in a council of war, he next proposed the siege of Nice, but this proposal was also rejected. The operation which was sanctioned was contrary to the sense of the majority, namely, an assault upon Casale. Lord Galway disapproved of the scheme, on the ground that the progressing blockade would compel that fortress to surrender without any sacrifice of men and means.
While the army were making creditable preparations for the assault, the fact was that the French had agreed privately with the Duke of Savoy that the fortress, after being dismantled, should be evacuated by them and handed over to the Duke of Mantua. The form of taking the place by storm was, however, to be enacted. This does not detract from the valour and diligence of the officers and soldiers, for they doubted not that the Duke was in earnest. Lord Galway’s letter was written in the midst of the preparations. After a fortnight’s siege, on the 11th of July, the garrison capitulated.
The biographer of King William records the following incidents connected with the execution of the capitulation:— “In the execution of the capitulation, it plainly appeared that the Duke of Savoy began to lean on the French side. For he not only suffered them to work very slowly on the demolishing the fortifications of Casale, whereby the forces of the allies were hindered from entering upon some other considerable enterprise, but also allowed them several things out of the public magazines, which of right belonged to the confederates. The Lord Galway, who commanded His Britannic Majesty’s forces in Piedmont, was so disgusted with these proceedings that, having been left before Casale with several battalions to see the capitulation performed, he retired' to Turin to make his complaints to the Duke; nor could he be persuaded to go back till he was assured by His Royal Highness that no wrong should be done to the Emperor or any of his allies.”
While Lord Galway’s letters to the Duke of Shrewsbury have been collected and printed by Archdeacon Coxe, his more official correspondence with Mr. Blathwait, secretary-at-war, was dispersed by an auction sale, only a very few letters having been secured for the British Museum. To it he alludes in his letter to the Duke, dated Camp near Casale, July 19-29 1695:—
“My Lord, I write twice a-week to the king and to Mr. Blathwayt, from whose letters I receive His Majesty’s orders. But I know it is also my duty to inform you of what passes here You will (I trust) have seen, my Lord, that I have done all in my power to engage the chiefs to use all their efforts towards the sea, to profit by the superiority of our fleet.”
The original of one of Lord Galway’s letters to Mr. Blathwait has come into my possession, and I give a translation of it here. It alludes to the demolition of Casale:—
“Sir, — I have returned here. I do not know if the courier whom you sent to me has been despatched. I fear that the bad state of His Royal Highness’ health has delayed his departure. I have been informed that his fits of ague continue. I have sent couriers to our consuls at Venice, Genoa, and Leghorn, to give them the good news of the taking of Namur. I have also written it to the admiral, who, according to the last advices, was at Barcelona on August 2d (n.s.). I have also let him know that, according to all the advices from France, the enemy are under no apprehension of any expedition from his quarter; so that, if he thinks proper to revisit their coast, I believe he will give them a surprise. I am expecting news day after day of the king’s next step, now that Namur is surrendered. The demolition of our fortress goes on slowly. All the native soldiers, and even the officers, fall sick. Only two in my own household have altogether escaped. You may well believe that I would greatly desire to be out of this country. I hope that the king does me the justice not to believe that I have any longing to go to England because of uneasy feelings. I prefer his service to my private affairs, which are all right as long as I have the happiness to be in his service, and to give him satisfaction. — I am, with all my heart, Sir, &c.,
Here I may digress in order to notice two matters suggested in Lord Galway’s letters to Mr. Blathwait. British soldiers have long been famous for their bravery and prowess, but the army has sometimes suffered from the want of well-educated officers. The Stuart dynasty left England destitute of capable officers, or nearly so. Our military efficiency was restored, to a large extent, through the introduction of French refugee officers, their accomplishments and their discipline. In a letter from the camp before Casale, 2-12 July 1695, Lord Gal way gives an account of an average English officer:—
“Your cousin, Captain Povey, arrived on the day of the surrender of this place, but we have not been able to give him employment. We are in great need of capable men in the artillery; but I must tell you that I fear that his knowledge is not very practical, as he has always had an artillery command under King Charles and King James, but no fighting [mais sans guerre]. I presented him to His Royal Highness to-day, who is well disposed to do him a favour, and will have him examined. But there is another cause for regret, that no one here can speak English, and he can speak neither German nor Italian, and but little French.”
The other matter is of a more sentimental and personal nature. Lord Galway was never married, and (as far as is known) never in love. Certainly he had given his whole heart to his Church, his king, and his public duties. A young officer, Prince Charles of Brandenburg, fell in love and married. Joining the army in Piedmont, he soon fell sick and took to his bed, and in less than three weeks he died. Lord Galway wrote of him as a brave and meritorious officer ruined by love. Let the refugee General speak in his mother tongue:—
“7-17 Juillet 1695. — Le Prince Charles de Brandebourg est très mal apres le beau manage qu’il a fait. Je crois que le chagrin de ne pouvoir passer sa vie auprès de sa dame l’a mit dans l’êtat ou il est.”
“10-20 Juillet. — M. le P. Charles de Brandebourg, qui est malade depuis quinze jours, étoit hier à la dernière extremité. Je n’en ai pas encore de nouvelles aujourdhui.”
“13-23 Juillet. — M. le Prince Charles de Brandebourg est mort depuis deux heures. C’étoit un prince de courage et de merite que l’amour avoit perdu. Cette avanture l’avoit jetté dans un extrème melancolie qui n’a pas peu contribué à sa mort.”[4]
Casale having been given over to the Duke of Mantua, the Duke of Savoy’s next proposal was the reduction of the town and fortress of Pignerol. Lord Galway considered the project impracticable and unwise, and again pressed his overture for the siege of Nice. King William entirely concurred with Lord Galway; but while assuring him of this, he sent him orders to acquiesce in the Pignerol scheme, entirely out of deference to the Duke of Savoy. This was accordingly done, the king and his obedient servant hoping “that this compliance would ensure the fidelity of the Duke, and eventually win his concurrence to the prosecution of operations against the French coasts.” The Duke, it now appears, hoped to obtain Pignerol from the French by diplomacy. He accordingly did nothing in the campaign but waste the season; and thus the year 1695 passed away. During the winter Lord Galway was in the cantons of Zurich and Berne raising recruits: 3000 Swiss were thus obtained.[5]
The year 1696 found the confederates with increasing suspicions. A papal nuncio had publicly appeared at the ducal court to advise peace, out of pity for the miseries of his Highness’s people and the misfortunes of Italy. The Duke’s formal answer was what Lord Galway called “such as we could wish, being to the effect that peace could not be made without the unanimous consent of all the allies.”
His Highness was nevertheless prepared to treat with France for his own covetous and ambitious ends. But he was perplexed how to contrive an opportunity for negotiation, “convinced that all his movements were watched by Lord Galway, and fearful of confiding even in his own ministers.” So says Coxe; and the biographer of King William writes, that “the Duke was narrowly watched by the vigilant Lord Galway,” and devised a plan “to avoid the prying sagacity of that minister.”
Lord Galway was not expected, and did not desire, to be present at Roman Catholic ceremonies. The Duke, therefore, told him that he would be absent for fifteen days on a religious pilgrimage at Loretto. Both Prince Lugene and Lord Galway sent spies to watch him; and it is said that the latter gained over some of the subordinate clerks and secretaries. But eluding all observation, the Duke carried on the negotiation. As a pilgrim, he must have monks for his companions. And some French agents (including, it is believed, the Comté de Tesse) were attired in monastic costume for the occasion. The bribes which the Duke then accepted from France were, for such a man, dazzling beyond conception, namely, the cession of Pignerol, the marriage of the Princess Maria Adelaide of Savoy to the Duke of Burgundy, and the honours due only to ambassadors from crowned heads for his ambassadors at the French court. Having thus sacrificed to and worshipped Mammon, he quietly returned home on March 15th, as if a religious ceremonial had been engrossing his mind.
Lord Galway wrote about this time to the Duke of Shrewsbury. The following is an extract from his letter, dated Turin (February 29), March 10, 1696:—
“His Royal Highness sent me on the first of this month to Vercelli to reform one of the battalions in the service of the king. He departed the next day for Milan, and two days after set out for Loretto. He traversed Parma, Modena, and Bologna. He told me on passing through Vercelli that his journey would occupy fifteen days; so that I do not expect him here until the 15th of this month. However, the enemy have taken the necessary measures to pass the mountains and enter the plains; their gendarmerie and cavalry, who were in winter quarters in Franche Comté, are ordered to be in readiness to march on the commencement of this month. I hope his Highness, on his return to Milan, will send hither a detachment of the Imperial and Spanish troops, which will suffice, with his own, to prevent at this season the enterprises of the enemy.
“By this time the Toulon fleet must be at sea, according to the last advices from Marseilles. Letters from Lyons announce that the French have collected at Calais a large armament of fishing vessels and small craft to transport the troops for the invasion of England, and that King James has posted from Paris to Calais. It is long since I informed you that in Italy they affirmed that the main design of France this year was to invade England. I hope we shall be prepared to receive them.”
The Duke of Savoy’s bargain with France was still a secret, when a hitch occurred (on May 30th) which, though it irritated him, enabled him to secure the concealment of the whole plot by an apparent manifestation of habitual good faith towards the allies. The French diplomatists had prevailed on the Duke’s agent to sign the treaty, with a new clause delaying the cession of Pignerol until the proclamation of a general peace. The grasping Victor Amedeo promptly repudiated the transaction. The French king in his turn waxed wroth, and ordered letters to be addressed to him, containing “threats of most exemplary vengeance,” unless he accepted the French offers. The duke, with the air of one who let his allies read all his correspondence, showed these letters to Lord Galway and the other generals. He declared himself keen for fighting. And the confederates admired his ingenuousness, and sympathized with him as showing a bold front against both the honeyed baits and the savage menaces of France.
Coxe expresses surprise at “the blindness of Lord Galway.” But his Lordship’s vindication is as complete as was the great Duke of Wellington’s in a similar case. The Czar Nicholas having made to Wellington certain statements which he from such authority had received as facts, Canning pointed out some written information received from St. Petersburg undoubtedly authentic but totally incompatible with the imperial statement. Wellington read it attentively, and then said to Canning, “Yes, I see what you mean; but could I suppose that the fellow was a liar?” So Lord Macaulay vindicates our ambassador from the imputation of a strange blindness by simply mentioning that the Duke of Savoy solemnly assured Lord Galway that there was no ground for the suspicion that he was secretly treating with France.
The following document is the crowning act of his Highness’s treachery:—
The Duke of Savoy to King William.
“June 17, 1696. — I doubt not that my Lord Galway, whom I have acquainted with what passes here, has sent a very accurate report to your Majesty. My duty and inclination, however, compel me to inform you of it myself by this letter, which encloses copies of one from Marshal Catinat, and of the answer I ordered to be returned, with his reply and mine. The sentiment of the allied chiefs here has been to gain time for keeping the enemy in suspense. This is my view also; and of what shall ensue I will render a faithful account to your Majesty, who will allow me to represent that (if your service would permit it) the return of your fleet to the Mediterranean would be very advantageous to your Majesty and to the good of the common cause, particularly to whatever related to the affairs of this country.
“I humbly entreat your Majesty to give the necessary orders that I may receive, as soon as possible, the subsidy which I enjoy from your royal generosity, assuring you that I never was under so pressing a necessity. It shall be applied solely for the service of your Majesty and of the common cause in this country. I solemnly promise that I will cherish the most ardent zeal for both. And my strongest desire will ever be to merit, on all public occasions, the continuation of your Majesty’s powerful protection, and the honour of declaring myself, with the highest respect and truth, &c, &c.
The request for the pecuniary subsidy was the real object of this letter. “He had” (says Smollett) “concealed the treaty until he should receive the remaining part of the subsidies due to him from the confederates. A considerable sum had been remitted from England to Genoa for his use; but Lord Galway no sooner received intimation of his new engagement than he put a stop to the payment of this money, which he employed in the Milanese for the subsistence of those troops that were in the British service.”
The Emperor Leopold of Austria, learning at last how matters stood, paid counter-addresses to his highness, and attempted as a rival courtier to outbid the Grand Monarque. But the imperial negotiations only gave the duke an opportunity of confessing that he had concluded a treaty with France. So Lord Galway wrote to the Duke of Shrewsbury from the Camp of Civasso, August (6) 16, 1696:—
“Since I wrote last, Count Mansfeld came hither with new proposals from the Emperor to his Royal Highness. But he found him too deeply engaged to be shaken in his resolutions; for he declared that at any price he must have Pignerol, and would treat only with those who would put it immediately into his possession. He asked him, ‘Will the allies without delay restore me that important place, for which I will admit no equivalent?’ adding, ‘Since you know they cannot, I am determined to accept the proposals of France, who can restore it by the treaty I shall conclude with that crown, the conditions of which are that the allies shall accept a neutrality for Italy, and withdraw their troops.’ Monsieur de Mansfeld represented that his orders from the Emperor were to do nothing without the consent of all the allies, who were too distant to arrange an affair of such importance in so limited a time. His Royal Highness, apparently impressed by these just reasons, at once offered to procure a prolongation of the truce to the end of September, which the marshal refused. We were apprized of the course of this negotiation before the arrival of Count Mansfeld. The question is reduced to the acceptance of the neutrality before the 20th of September, or the renewal of the war.”
The next letter of Lord Galway’s, from which I shall quote, states his feelings as a soldier, and his conduct as an ambassador. Camp at Saluzze, August (17) 27, 1696:—
“If I judge rightly, we shall place all our infantry in the fortresses, and shall use our cavalry to incommode the enemy in their convoys and foraging parties. . . . His Royal Highness declared to me, two days ago, that he would sign his treaty. I deemed it my duty to tell him that, since he was resolved to do it, I thought a minister of the king could no longer remain with him, unless his Majesty sent me other orders, which I should wait for at the army; and I took my leave of him. I am sending to Milan the effects and equipages which I had at Turin.”
From the Camp of St. Mazaro, Sept. (5) 15, 1696, Lord Galway wrote to the Duke of Shrewsbury:—
“I have described to you the manner in which I withdrew from the Duke of Savoy after the declaration he made to me that he would sign his treaty with France at the end of August, and denounce war against the allies on the 17th of September, if the neutrality were not accepted. It seemed to me that his Majesty could no longer have a minister in the court of that prince, after a treaty signed with the enemy, and a resolution taken to declare war against the allies, unless they accepted a neutrality to which his Majesty is adverse. Since I have quitted his states, his Royal Highness has sent me a present, which, not thinking proper to accept, I refused with much submission, desiring the master of the ceremonies to keep it until he should know whether the king would permit me to receive it.”
Luttrell states — “His lordship refused the Duke of Savoy’s picture set with diamonds, offered him by that duke.”
On September 16th, the Duke of Savoy, as generalissimo of the enemy, marched into the Milanese, and the siege of Valenza was commenced. We observe Lord Galway full of plans for harassing the invaders. We detect him looking out at the heavy rains, and rejoicing in them as obstructions to siege-works. We encounter him in his correspondence shocked at the idea of Austria making a separate treaty with France, and hoping that those imperialists are not going to desert next. The Duke was bent on taking Valenza; but at the end of thirteen days he had lost 2000 men, and had made no progress. The heavy rains would soon have compelled him to raise the siege, and to allow the allies winter quarters in Italy. However, both the siege and the vigorous resistance were terminated by the peace, known as the Convention of Vigevano, and dated October 7th.
The contracting parties were France, Savoy, Spain, and Austria. The French agreed to evacuate Italy, on condition that the same was done by the other allies, except the Spaniards, who were to remain in possession of the Milanese. England was not mentioned. When a sketch or draft had been prepared for circulation, it was said that the pacific document would have been suspected as spurious, if the name of such a fire-eating warrior as William of Orange had been inserted. The Duke directed his envoy, President De la Tour, to announce the ratification of the treaty to King William at the camp in Flanders. William received the message with contemptuous silence, but wrote to Lord Galway to remonstrate with the Duke in such terms as his ingratitude and duplicity deserved.
In November 1696, Lord Galway, with his contingent, joined the army in the Netherlands; but matters were now ripe for the negotiations which ended in the Peace of Ryswick, and he very soon returned to England, where he arrived 11th January 1697. The general conviction that peace would soon be proclaimed was the occasion of a heavy pecuniary loss to our hero.
The Duke de St. Simon states, that although Lord Galway’s estate was confiscated, there was a large sum of money for him in the custody of a friend of his father. The old Marquis, having been permitted to retain all his wealth, had left this sum in the hands of President Harlay, who evidently could take the deposit with unquestionable loyalty to his king. And after old Ruvigny’s death, the President had honourably regarded the father as surviving in the person of the heir. For about twelve years, old Harlay had shown himself a true man. At length peace was to be proclaimed between France and England. Lord Galway’s position as a naturalized British subject would be recognized by the French government, to whom he would no longer be amenable on the charge of treason. The money then could be openly paid over to him. But Harlay had looked on the precious treasure too long, to be able to endure the pangs of parting from it. So, believing that Louis would like to hear of an opportunity for taking revenge on Lord Galway, he waited on the Monarque, and said, “Of course your Majesty knows that old Ruvigny left some of his money as a deposit in my charge; it ought to be handed over to your Majesty.” The king replied, “I give it to you.” And thus did Harlay appropriate his old friend’s property, and overreach his friend’s son. Although the transaction gratified the king’s spite, it caused a burst of indignation and execration all over France.[7] The king comforted his avaricious servant with marks of his favour, and by giving high office to his son; but all this was no real compensation for the continued public odium.
What Lord Galway’s doom would have been, if Louis could have put all his revenge into execution, may be surmised from Luttrell’s Memorandum, 16th Feb. 1697 — “Wrote from Ghent that the cartel between England and France is broken by reason that some of the Lord Galway’s domestics, taken by the Dunkirk privateers, have been sent to the galleys.”
The Duke of Shrewsbury had written to Lord Galway in Piedmont, expressing most loyal sentiments as to the detected conspiracy of Sir John Fenwick and others. Sir John, however, mischievously insinuated that the duke was in secret correspondence with King James. King William eagerly assured the duke that the insinuation had not made any impression on him; but Shrewsbury insisted on retiring from office. The king, unable to shake this resolution, looked to Lord Galway to help him. This we learn from a letter from the Earl of Portland to the Duke of Shrewsbury, dated Kensington, Oct. (20) 30, 1696, “I will say nothing of the loss you will occasion to the king’s service in retiring; Lord Galway will, as it appears, speak to you of it himself.”
It is remarkable how at every stage in Lord Galway’s course we hear his praises sounded. Misson’s panegyric is of this date. Speaking of the French refugees, it says:— “The Earl of Galway, a brave and noble gentleman, if ever there was one in the world, is their head, their friend, their refuge, their advocate, their support, their protector. When he arrived from Turin some days ago, his house was so crowded every morning, that for a quarter of an hour after his rising it was scarce possible to get so much as to the bottom of the staircase.”
Another memorial of Lord Galway is a ledger, still preserved[8] at Vevay, in Switzerland, which shews that he maintained in that town above eighty-four members of refugee Huguenot families. Their names, the houses in which they were boarded, and the sums spent on them for the months of August, September, and October 1696 were carefully entered in this book by the almoner, and were afterwards revised by his lordship himself. The money paid during the three months amounted to £33 sterling; and the recipients were 37 orphan children, 25 other children, 10 widows, 8 women, and 2 men, the funeral charges for one orphan being included in that expenditure.
- ↑ See the Parliamentary return headed “Vaudois,” ordered by our House of Commons to be printed, 15th May 1832.
- ↑ i.e., storming it.
- ↑ The letters from Lord Galway to the Duke are taken from Coxe’s “Life of Shrewsbury.”
- ↑ MSS. in British Museum.
- ↑ Luttrell, under dates 9th Nov., 30th Nov., and 28th Dec. 1695.
- ↑ His domestic and military papers were written in Italian, and signed “V. Amedeo.” His foreign correspondence was in French, and from the signature the final O was omitted.
- ↑ The Duke de St. Simon stigmatizes the President for his conduct in this affair — “Get hypocrite de justice de vertu, de désinteressement, et de rigorisme n’eut pas honte de se l’approprier, et de fehner les yeux et les oreilles au bruit qu’excita cette perfidie.” Professor Weiss has missed the point of this anecdote by not adverting to the Duke’s opening sentence: “La Paix s’approchant, le Roi la prevint par un trait de vengeance contre mylord Galway, dont il n’aurait plus étè temps bientot après.”
- ↑ Bulletin, vol. page 459.