If this siege were not interesting on account of its forming part of the noble struggle which rescued the Netherlands from the domination of the Spaniards, it would command our notice from being the time and place when one of the great scientific operations of war was first brought into use.
The Spaniards having penetrated, in 1599, into the island of Bommel, formed by the Wahal, in the duchy of Gueldres, hastened to lay siege to the capital city of that island. Prince Maurice came to its succour, with the greater part of his army. He encamped on the opposite bank of the Wahal, reinforced the garrison with a thousand men, and, with great rapidity, threw two bridges over the river, above and below the besieged city; the first, destined for the infantry, was but a collection of little barks; but the second, for the cavalry, was composed of large pontoons, and was wide enough for the passage of two chariots abreast. Having completed this operation, he ordered three thousand infantry and four hundred horse, whom he charged most particularly with the defence of Bommel, to cross over into the island. This place being too small for such a numerous garrison, it was lodged without, and immediately covered itself with a good intrenchment, well flanked with redoubts, and defended by a wide ditch. This intrenchment furnished the first model of what has since been called the covered way.[18] This happy invention contributed much to the failure of the Spanish expedition. They had not yet perfected their intrenchments, when the Dutch artillery, established on the banks of the Wahal, the fire of the armed barks, and that of the place, thundered all at once against their ramparts. The Spaniards, however, after many efforts, succeeded in sheltering themselves from this multiplied tempest; they raised good intrenchments, they placed cannon in battery, and began to assail in earnest both the city and the intrenched camp. The besieged did not oppose a less number of works or less courage to the Spanish attacks. Towards the end of May, the garrison of Bommel fell all at once upon every one of the enemy’s quarters; it might have been supposed that they came to fight a regular battle, and not to clear out trenches or overthrow works. Both sides fought with the greatest resolution; but at length the resistance of the Spaniards disheartened the Dutch, and they retreated after a contest of three hours. They returned to the charge the following night, persuaded that they should surprise the besiegers. They succeeded in the first moments; but the Spaniards having recovered themselves, the Dutch were obliged to abandon their attack. Three days after, they perseveringly made fresh efforts, which proved likewise unfortunate. Fatigued with their endeavours to overcome so many obstacles and such obstinate enemies, the Spaniards, finding they made no considerable progress, determined to raise the siege towards the end of June, after having lost two thousand men.
BARCELONA.
A.D. 1705.
However unimportant it may appear in the vast page of history, no English account of sieges can be complete without a notice of that of Barcelona, in which he who may be called the last of our knights maintained so nobly that British good faith which we claim as our proudest characteristic.
In 1705, the earl of Peterborough commanded the army of the Archduke Charles, competitor with Philip V., the grandson of Louis XIV., in conjunction with the prince of Darmstadt. The siege was dragged on to a great length, and Peterborough was thinking of re-embarking his English soldiers, when he learnt that the prince of Darmstadt had been killed in carrying the intrenchments which covered Mount Joire and the city. A few days after, a bomb burst in the fort over the powder-magazine; the fort was taken, and the city consented to capitulate. The viceroy was conferring with Peterborough at the city gates, and the articles were not yet signed, when, on a sudden, cries and screams of distress were heard in the city: “You are betraying us!” exclaimed the viceroy; “we are capitulating loyally, and there are your English, who have entered the city by the ramparts, slaughtering, pillaging, and violating.” “You are mistaken,” replied Peterborough, “it must be the troops of the prince of Darmstadt. There is only one means of saving your city; let me enter the place at once with my English; I will make all quiet, and will then return to the gate, to complete the capitulation.” The tone with which he spoke this convinced the Spanish governor of his good faith, and he was allowed to enter Barcelona with his officers. As he expected, he found the Germans and Catalans sacking the houses of the principal citizens; he made them abandon their prey, and drove them out. Among the victims about to be sacrificed to the lust of the soldiery was the duchess of Popoli; he extricated her from the hands of the ruffians, and restored her to her husband. When the tumult was appeased, he returned to the gate and terminated the capitulation, offering a fine example of observance of his word given to a conquered enemy.
Lord Peterborough was certainly more an eccentric man than a great one, and yet, like Don Quixote’s, many of his eccentricities had a strong leaning to the side of greatness. Plutarch would have made a fine story of the above anecdote; it belongs to the character of the real hero, of whom, though abounding in great soldiers, modern history contains so few.
To show the importance of such a trait to the reputation of a nation, we have only to observe with what high praise the historians of other countries mention this act of simple good faith.