yet Lord Galway could not but acknowledge the gratifying testimony to his conduct borne by the able statesmen who had written to him. I refer to his letter to the Earl of Godolphin (Valencia, Feb. 22, 1707), in which, after expressing his gratitude for the gracious orders of the Queen to continue in her service, and for the new commission appointing him commander-in-chief of all the British forces in Spain, he says:—
“When I was so pressing for leave to retire, it was not so much on account of my own infirmities and the disquiet of the service, as of so many difficulties that made it impossible for me to serve the Queen as I ought; but seeing her Majesty, the ministry, and my friends believe I can still be serviceable, I submit to their better judgment. But they must answer to the public for the faults I may commit; though I’ll do my utmost to save them from any reproach, if fidelity, application, and vigilance can do it; but I cannot answer for my capacity in affairs so very difficult to manage.
“I am extremely sensible of the encouragements her Majesty is pleased to give me. I wish her letter to the king, so much to my advantage, may produce a good effect. He has taken no notice yet of it to me. It would not be easy to represent to you that prince’s character. He cannot but have so much respect for the queen, that he will always outwardly show me a great regard. He always agrees with me when I represent anything to him, but never does what I advise him to do. He has now lately made a German chamberlain of his household, which is one of the greatest offices in Spain, and has shown very little countenance to the Spaniards he is most obliged to. I have already had the honour to tell your Lordship how necessary it would be, that Prince Eugene came hither to prevent the disorders of the court, as well as those of the field. The king sends Don Pedro Moraes to him. I enclose the copy of the letter I sent him, believing his presence here of absolute necessity. — I am, &c,“Gallway.”
The confederates adhered to their instructions, which were also their own sentiments, that the war should be actively carried on. To act on the offensive, they had to march towards Madrid. The defensive could not be maintained in Valencia, where they had eaten up all the provisions. The proposal to stand on the defensive implied that first they should retreat into Catalonia; but it was not to swell a retreat that reinforcements had been sent out to them.
King Charles and his brother, the emperor, marred all the design. The latter, in order to get rapid possession of Lombardy, did not wait to make prisoners of the French forces there, but by a capitulation, enabled them to flock into Spain. He also neglected the urgent request to send Prince Eugene or some highly qualified general to command in Valencia. King Charles, under the bitter influence of Noyelles, took the Spanish regiments into Catalonia, alleging some temporary exigency, and promising a speedy return. “And,” says Lord Galway, “it is notoriously known that the reasons for that journey were thought so insufficient, that not only all the foreign generals and ministers, but even the city and kingdom of Valencia, by their deputies, protested against it.”
It was soon evident that Charles would not come back. The Valencia troops were besieging the castle of Villena; but they found it would hold out for a time, and they were informed that the Duke of Orleans was immediately expected by the enemy with a further reinforcement of 8000 or 10,000 men. It seemed advisable to bring on a battle immediately with Marshal Duke of Berwick. To this proposal a council of war unanimously agreed. Accordingly the battle of Almanza was fought on the 25th April 1707. The Portuguese cavalry were on the right wing, and the British horse and dragoons on the left — the latter commanded by the gallant Lord Tyrawley. The infantry occupied the centre — except two brigades interlined with the cavalry. The whole issue depended on the bravery and ardour of the confederate soldiers, for the Duke of Berwick’s army was fully double in numerical strength. The order of battle was that our left wing should charge the right wing of the French, and that when our centre was engaged with the enemy’s, the Portuguese cavalry should charge forward. Lord Galway led off the battle at the head of the dragoons, and the charge was a spirited one. The English, Dutch, and Portuguese infantry carried all before them. But the Portuguese horsemen had witnessed a sight which confused and alarmed them. Lord Galway, the only bond of union between them and King Charles, was carried off the field wounded — what if the wound was mortal? and what could they gain for their own king by uselessly exasperating the French, who were not indisposed to a separate peace with Portugal? Accordingly the right wing did not charge. This was the first hope of the French; they rode up to attack the stationary Portuguese cavalry, which fled precipitately. Lord Galway had been wounded in the eye; in fact, he had lost the sight of it. When he returned to the field he made every exertion to remedy the confusion which had
