SECOND SIEGE, A.D. 1667.
One of the greatest military exploits of Louis XIV. was the conquest of Valenciennes. Since the wars which had procured liberty for Holland, the possessors of that city had neglected nothing to render it impregnable. The project of the French monarch was considered as the height of temerity. In the first place, it was necessary to gain possession of two half-moons on the right and on the left. Behind these half-moons was a grand crown-work, palisaded, frased (strengthened with pointed stakes), and surrounded by a fosse intersected by many traverses. In this crown-work there was yet a second, well covered and surrounded with another fosse. After these had been mastered, there was an arm of the Scheld to be crossed; this being done, a fresh work was encountered, called a pâté; behind this pâté flowed the great stream of the Scheld, deep and rapid, which served as a fosse between the pâté and the wall; and this wall was supported by large ramparts. All these works were covered with cannon. A garrison of nearly four thousand men, a great quantity of munitions of war and provisions, the hatred of the citizens for the French and their affection for their Spanish governor, seemed to promise a long and firm resistance. At the head of a formidable army, Louis XIV. advanced, seconded by his brother and the marshals Humières, Schomberg, Feuillade, Luxembourg, and Lorges. The celebrated Vauban directed all the operations. On the 9th of March, 1677, they opened the trenches. A few days after, the king called a council upon the best means of attacking the outworks with greatest regard to the lives of the soldiers. Vauban proposed to assault them in open day; but all the marshals exclaimed strongly against such a plan: Louvois condemned it, and yet Vauban held firm to his opinion, with the confidence of a man perfectly understanding all he advanced. “You wish,” said he, “to spare the blood of your soldiers, and this will be best effected by fighting in the daylight, without confusion and without tumult, without fear of one part of our men firing upon another, as too frequently happens. Our object is to surprise the enemy; and they are always in expectation of an attack by night: we shall indeed surprise them when they will be fatigued by watching all night, and they will not be in a condition to resist our fresh troops. Add to this, there may be men among our soldiers who have but little courage, and night will favour their timidity; whereas, during the day, the eye of the master inspires valour and elevates men, particularly the French, above themselves.” The king yielded to the reasoning of Vauban, in opposition to his minister Louvois and five marshals of France.
On the evening of the 16th, the two companies of musketeers, a hundred grenadiers of the king’s household, a battalion of the guards, and one of the regiment of Picardy, were commanded to be in readiness, and on the 17th, at nine o’clock in the morning, these warriors marched to the attack of the crown-work, after having overcome the two advanced half-moons. Nothing seemed able to resist them: they mounted the intrenchments in all directions; they seized them; they effected a lodgment. This was all that had been required or hoped for in this attack; but the valour of the musketeers was warmed, and could not be checked. There was across the small arm of the Scheld, a bridge, which communicated with the pâté. The passage over this bridge was closed by a barrier of immense pieces of pointed timber, with a wicket in the middle, through which only one man could pass at a time. Whilst one party of the musketeers was endeavouring to force the wicket, the rest climbed over the barrier, and in spite of pikes and musketry, leaped down on the other side, sword in hand. The enemy, surprised by this extraordinary feat, abandoned the defence of the wicket. The musketeers pursued them, and on reaching the pâté, attacked it with great fury, and carried it in spite of its defenders; but the cannon of the ramparts now threatened destruction to the conquerors. The grey musketeers perceived a little door; they broke it in, and discovered a private staircase constructed in the thickness of the wall; they rushed up this narrow passage and arrived at the top of the pâté. They there remarked another door, which gave entrance to a gallery built over the great canal of the Scheld. They broke that in; they gained the ramparts, and intrenched themselves. They then turned against the city the cannon they found there, and, sheltered from their thunders, descended into the place with the fugitives. They pursued them from intrenchment to intrenchment, from street to street; and they triumphed before the king could have imagined the first work they attacked was taken. But this was not the most astonishing part of this marvellous affair. It was probable that young musketeers, carried away by the ardour of success, should rush blindly upon the troops and the citizens—that they would perish, or that the city would be plundered; but these warriors, scarcely adolescent, led by a cornet named Moissac and a quarter-master named Labarre, formed behind some waggons, and whilst the troops, which came in crowds, were forming leisurely, other musketeers got possession of some neighbouring houses, in order to protect by their fire those who defended the bridge with incredible bravery. They were three times charged by the cavalry of the garrison; but notwithstanding the smallness of their numbers, they maintained all they had won. The infantry endeavoured to take them in rear, but they there encountered the greater part of the black musketeers and the grenadiers of the king’s household, who repulsed them vigorously. The citizens were astonished; the city council assembled. They entered into a parley with Moissac, who received and gave hostages. Deputies were sent to the king; and all this was done without confusion, without tumult, and without the commission of a fault of any kind. The city was obliged to submit without capitulation. The king made the garrison prisoners of war, and entered Valenciennes, to his own great surprise, as master. This conquest only cost him forty men. “I do not know,” says Larrey, “if history furnishes many examples of an action so sharp and prompt, and at the same time so fortunate, and of the capture, in so short a time and with so little loss for the conquerors, of a great and strong city which wanted nothing for its defence. The whole looks like a miracle; and all was attributed to the fortunate rashness of the musketeers.” “It was fortunate,” adds M. de St. Foix, “because coolness and prudence completed that which impetuous courage had begun. Everything in this affair is characteristic of true valour, that valour which elevates man above himself, and which often makes him triumph against all probability, and in spite of the evident danger into which he seems to precipitate himself.”