LOUIS XIV.
We turn now from English affairs to
contemplate the reign of Louis XIV. a man
who filled a very large space in the history of Europe
during the seventeenth century. Indeed, his reign
forms an epoch of itself, not so much from any impulse
he gave to liberty or civilization, but because, for
more than half a century, he was the central mover
of European politics. His reign commemorates the
triumph in France, of despotic principles, the complete
suppression of popular interests, and almost the absorption
of national interests in his own personal aggrandizement.
It commemorates the ascendency of fashion, and the
great refinement of material life. The camp and
the court of Louis XIV. ingulphed all that is interesting
in the history of France during the greater part of
the seventeenth century. He reigned seventy-two
years, and, in his various wars, a million of men are
supposed to have fallen victims to his vain-glorious
ambition. His palaces consumed the treasures
which his wars spared. He was viewed as a sun
of glory and power, in the light of which all other
lights were dim. Philosophers, poets, prelates,
generals, and statesmen, during his reign, were regarded
only as his satellites. He was the central orb
around which every other light revolved, and to contribute
to his glory all were supposed to be born. He
was, most emphatically, the state. He was France.
A man, therefore, who, in the eye of contemporaries,
was so grand, so rich, so powerful, and so absolute,
claims a special notice. It is the province of
history to record great influences, whether they come
from the people, from great popular ideas, from literature
and science, or from a single man. The lives of
individuals are comparatively insignificant in the
history of the United States; but the lives of such
men as Cæsar, Cromwell, and Napoleon, furnish very
great subjects for the pen of the philosophical historian,
since great controlling influences emanated from them,
rather than from the people whom they ruled.
Louis XIV. was not a great general,
like Henry IV., nor a great statesman, like William
III., nor a philosopher, like Frederic the Great,
nor a universal genius, like Napoleon; but his reign
filled the eyes of contemporaries, and circumstances
combined to make him the absolute master of a great
empire. Moreover, he had sufficient talent and
ambition to make use of fortunate opportunities, and
of the resources of his kingdom, for his own aggrandizement.
But France, nevertheless, was sacrificed. The
French Revolution was as much the effect of his vanity
and egotism, as his own power was the fruit of the
policy of Cardinals Richelieu and Mazarin. By
their labors in the cause of absolutism, he came in
possession of armies and treasures. But armies
and treasures were expended in objects of vain ambition,
for the gratification of selfish pleasures, for expensive
pageants, and for gorgeous palaces. These finally
embarrassed the nation, and ground it down to the
earth by the load of taxation, and maddened it by
the prospect of ruin, by the poverty and degradation
of the people, and, at the same time, by the extravagance
and insolence of an overbearing aristocracy.
The aristocracy formed the glory and pride of the
throne and both nobles and the throne fell, and great
was the fall thereof.
Our notice of Louis XIV. begins, not
with his birth, but at the time when he resolved to
be his own prime minister, on the death of Cardinal
Mazarin, (1661.)
Louis XIV. was then twenty-three years
of age frank, beautiful, imperious, and
ambitious. His education had been neglected, but
his pride and selfishness had been stimulated.
During his minority, he had been straitened for money
by the avaricious cardinal; but avaricious for his
youthful master, since, at his death, besides his private
fortune, which amounted to two hundred millions of
livres, he left fifteen millions of livres, not specified
in his will, which, of course, the king seized, and
thus became the richest monarch of Europe. He
was married, shortly before the death of Mazarin, to
the Infanta Maria Theresa, daughter of Philip IV.,
King of Spain. But, long before his marriage,
he had become attached to Mary de Mancini, niece of
Mazarin, who returned his love with passionate ardor.
She afterwards married Prince Colonna, a Roman noble,
and lived a most abandoned life.
The enormous wealth left by Cardinal
Mazarin was, doubtless, one motive which induced Louis
XIV., though only a young man of twenty-three, to
be his own prime minister. Henceforth, to his
death, all his ministers made their regular reports
to him, and none were permitted to go beyond the limits
which he prescribed to them.
He accepted, at first, the ministers
whom the dying cardinal had recommended. The
most prominent of these were Le Tellier, De Lionne,
and Fouquet. The last was intrusted with the public
chest, who found the means to supply the dissipated
young monarch with all the money he desired for the
indulgence of his expensive tastes and ruinous pleasures.
The thoughts and time of the king,
from the death of Mazarin, for six or seven years,
were chiefly occupied with his pleasures. It was
then that the court of France was so debauched, splendid,
and far-famed. It was during this time that the
king was ruled by La Valliere, one of the most noted
of all his favorites, a woman of considerable beauty
and taste, and not so unprincipled as royal favorites
generally have been. She was created a duchess,
and her children were legitimatized, and also became
dukes and princes. Of these the king was very
fond, and his love for them survived the love for
their unfortunate mother, who, though beautiful and
affectionate, was not sufficiently intellectual to
retain the affections with which she inspired the most
selfish monarch of his age. She was supplanted
in the king’s affections by Madame de Montespan,
an imperious beauty, whose extravagances and
follies shocked and astonished even the most licentious
court in Europe; and La Valliere, broken-hearted,
disconsolate, and mortified, sought the shelter of
a Carmelite convent, in which she dragged out thirty-six
melancholy and dreary years, amid the most rigorous
severities of self-inflicted penance, in the anxious
hope of that heavenly mansion where her sins would
be no longer remembered, and where the weary would
be at rest.
It was during these years of extravagance
and pleasure that Versailles attracted the admiring
gaze of Christendom, the most gorgeous palace which
the world has seen since the fall of Babylon.
Amid its gardens and groves, its parks and marble
halls, did the modern Nebuchadnezzar revel in a pomp
and grandeur unparalleled in the history of Europe,
surrounded by eminent prelates, poets, philosophers,
and statesmen, and all that rank and beauty had ennobled
throughout his vast dominions. Intoxicated by
their united flatteries, by all the incense which
sycophancy, carried to a science, could burn before
him, he almost fancied himself a deity, and gave no
bounds to his self-indulgence, his vanity, and his
pride. Every thing was subordinate to his pleasure
and his egotism an egotism alike regardless
of the tears of discarded favorites, and the groans
of his overburdened subjects.
But Louis, at last, palled with pleasure,
was aroused from the festivities of Versailles by
dreams of military ambition. He knew nothing
of war, of its dangers, its reverses, or of its ruinous
expenses; but he fancied it would be a beautiful sport
for a wealthy and absolute monarch to engage in the
costly game. He cast his eyes on Holland, a state
extremely weak in land forces, and resolved to add
it to the great kingdom over which he ruled.
The only power capable of rendering
effectual assistance to Holland, when menaced by Louis
XIV., was England; but England was ruled by Charles
II., and all he cared for were his pleasures and independence
from parliamentary control. The French king easily
induced him to break his alliance with the Dutch by
a timely bribe, while, at the same time, he insured
the neutrality of Spain, by inflaming the hereditary
prejudices of the Spanish court against the Low Countries.
War, therefore, without even a decent
pretence, and without provocation, was declared against
Holland, with a view of annexing the Low Countries
to France.
Before the Dutch were able to prepare
for resistance, Louis XIV. appeared on the banks of
the Rhine with an army of one hundred and twenty thousand,
marshalled by such able generals as Luxembourg, Conde,
and Turenne. The king commanded in person, and
with all the pomp of an ancient Persian monarch, surrounded
with women and nobles. Without any adequate force
to resist him, his march could not but be triumphant.
He crossed the Rhine, an exploit much celebrated,
by his flatterers, though nothing at all extraordinary, and,
in the course of a few weeks, nearly all the United
Provinces had surrendered to the royal victor.
The reduction of Holland and Zealand alone was necessary
to crown his enterprise with complete success.
But he wasted time in vain parade at Utrecht, where
he held his court, and where his splendid army revelled
in pleasure and pomp. Amsterdam alone, amid the
general despondency and consternation which the French
inundation produced, was true to herself, and to the
liberties of Holland; and this was chiefly by means
of the gallant efforts of the Prince of Orange.
At this time, (1672,) he was twenty-two
years of age, and had received an excellent education,
and shown considerable military abilities. In
consequence of his precocity of talent, his unquestioned
patriotism, and the great services which his family
had rendered to the state, he was appointed commander-in-chief
of the forces of the republic, and was encouraged
to aspire to the office of stadtholder, the highest
in the commonwealth. And his power was much increased
after the massacre of the De Witts the
innocent victims of popular jealousy, who, though
patriotic and illustrious, inclined to a different
policy than what the Orange party advocated.
William advised the States to reject with scorn the
humiliating terms of peace which Louis XIV. offered,
and to make any sacrifice in defence of their very
last ditch. The heroic spirit which animated
his bosom he communicated to his countrymen, on the
borders of despair, and in the prospect of national
ruin; and so great was the popular enthusiasm, that
preparations were made for fifty thousand families
to fly to the Dutch possessions in the East Indies,
and establish there a new empire, in case they were
overwhelmed by their triumphant enemy.
Never, in the history of war, were
such energies put forth as by the Hollanders in the
hour of their extremity. They opened their dikes,
and overflowed their villages and their farms.
They rallied around the standard of their heroic leader,
who, with twenty-two thousand men, kept the vast armies
of Conde and Turenne at bay. Providence, too,
assisted men who were willing to help themselves.
The fleets of their enemies were dispersed by storms,
and their armies were driven back by the timely inundation.
The heroism of William called forth
universal admiration. Louis attempted to bribe
him, and offered him the sovereignty of Holland, which
offer he unhesitatingly rejected. He had seen
the lowest point in the depression of his country,
and was confident of ultimate success.
The resistance of Holland was unexpected,
and Louis, wearied with the campaign, retired to Versailles,
to be fed with the incense of his flatterers, and
to publish the manifestoes of his glory and success.
The states of Europe, jealous of the
encroachments of Louis, at last resolved to come to
the assistance of the struggling republic of Holland.
Charles II. ingloriously sided with the great despot
of Europe; but the Emperor of Germany, the Elector
of Brandenburg, and the King of Spain declared war
against France. Moreover, the Dutch gained some
signal naval battles. The celebrated admirals
De Ruyter and Van Tromp redeemed the ancient glories
of the Dutch flag. The French were nearly driven
out of Holland; and Charles II., in spite of his secret
treaties with Louis, was compelled to make peace with
the little state which had hitherto defied him in
the plenitude of his power.
But the ambitious King of France was
determined not to be baffled in his scheme, since
he had all the mighty resources of his kingdom at
his entire disposal, and was burning with the passion
of military aggrandizement. So he recommenced
preparations for the conquest of Holland on a greater
scale than ever, and assembled four immense armies.
Conde led one against Flanders, and fought a bloody
but indecisive battle with the Prince of Orange, in
which twelve thousand men were killed on each side.
Turenne commanded another on the side of Germany,
and possessed himself of the Palatinate, gained several
brilliant successes, but disgraced them by needless
cruelties. Manheim, and numerous towns and villages,
were burnt, and the country laid waste and desolate.
The elector was so overcome with indignation, that
he challenged the French general to single combat,
which the great marshal declined.
Louis himself headed a third army,
and invaded Franche Comte, which he subdued
in six weeks. The fourth army was sent to the
frontiers of Roussillon, but effected nothing of importance.
This great war was prosecuted for
four years longer, in which the contending parties
obtained various success. The only decisive effect
of the contest was to reduce the strength of all the
contending powers. Some great battles were fought,
but Holland still held out with inferior forces.
Louis lost the great Turenne, who was killed on the
eve of a battle with the celebrated Montecuculi, who
commanded the German armies; but, in a succeeding
campaign, this loss was compensated by the surrender
of Valenciennes, by the victories of Luxembourg over
the Prince of Orange, and by another treaty of peace
with Charles II.
At last, all the contending parties
were exhausted, and Louis was willing to make terms
of peace. He had not reduced Holland, but, on
account of his vast resources, he had obtained considerable
advantages. The treaty of Nimeguen, in 1678, secured
to him Franche Comte, which he had twice conquered,
and several important cities and fortresses in Flanders.
He considerably extended his dominions, in spite of
a powerful confederacy, and only retreated from the
field of triumph to meditate more gigantic enterprises.
For nine years, Europe enjoyed a respite
from the horrors of war, during which Louis XIV. acted
like a universal monarch. During these nine years,
he indulged in his passion of palace building, and
surrounded himself with every pleasure which could
intoxicate a mind on which, already, had been exhausted
all the arts of flattery, and all the resources of
wealth.
The man to whom Louis was most indebted
for the means to prosecute his victories and build
his palaces, was Colbert, minister of finance, who
succeeded Fouquet. France was indebted to this
able and patriotic minister for her richest manufactures
of silks, laces, tapestries, and carpets, and for
various internal improvements. He founded the
Gobelin tapestries; erected the Royal Library, the
colonnade of the Louvre, the Royal Observatory, the
Hotel of the Invalids, and the palaces of the Tuileries,
Vincennes, Meudon, and Versailles. He encouraged
all forms of industry, and protected the Huguenots.
But his great services were not fully appreciated
by the king, and he was obnoxious to the nobility,
who envied his eminence, and to the people, because
he desired the prosperity of France more than the
gratification of their pleasures. He was succeeded
by Louvois, who long retained a great ascendency by
obsequious attention to all the king’s wishes.
At this period, the reigning favorite
at court was Madame de Montespan the most
infamous and unprincipled, but most witty and brilliant
of all the king’s mistresses, and the haughtiest
woman of her age. Her tastes were expensive,
and her habits extravagant and luxurious. On
her the sovereign showered diamonds and rubies.
He could refuse her nothing. She received so
much from him, that she could afford to endow a convent the
mere building of which cost one million eight hundred
thousand livres. Her children were legitimatized,
and declared princes of the blood. Through her
the royal favors flowed. Ambassadors, ministers,
and even prelates, paid their court to her. On
her the reproofs of Bossuet fell without effect.
Secure in her ascendency over the mind of Louis, she
triumphed over his court, and insulted the nation.
But, at last, he grew weary of her, although she remained
at court eighteen years, and she was dismissed from
Versailles, on a pension of a sum equal to six hundred
thousand dollars a year. She lived twenty-two
years after her exile from court, and in great splendor,
sometimes hoping to regain the ascendency she had
once enjoyed, and at others in those rigorous penances
which her church inflicts as the expiation for sin.
To the last, however, she was haughty and imperious,
and kept up the vain etiquette of a court. Her
husband, whom she had abandoned, and to whom, after
her disgrace, she sought to be reconciled, never would
hear her name mentioned; and the king, whom, for nearly
twenty years, she had enthralled, heard of her death
with indifference, as he was starting for a hunting
excursion. “Ah, indeed,” said Louis
XIV., “so the marchioness is dead! I should
have thought that she would have lasted longer.
Are you ready, M. de la Rochefoucauld? I have
no doubt that, after this last shower, the scent will
lie well for the dogs. Let us be off at once.”
As the Marchioness de Montespan lost
her power over the royal egotist, Madame de Maintenon
gained hers. She was the wife of the poet Scarron,
and was first known to the king as the governess of
the children of Montespan. She was an estimable
woman on the whole, very intellectual, very proper,
very artful, and very ambitious. No person ever
had so great an influence over Louis XIV. as she;
and hers was the ascendency of a strong mind over
a weak one. She endeavored to make peace at court,
and to dissuade the king from those vices to which
he had so long been addicted. And she partially
reclaimed him, although, while her counsels were still
regarded, Louis was enslaved by Madame de
Fontanges a luxurious beauty, whom
he made a duchess, and on whom he squandered the revenues
of a province. But her reign was short. Mere
physical charms must soon yield to the superior power
of intellect and wit, and, after her death, the reign
of Madame de Maintenon was complete. As the king
could not live without her, and as she refused to
follow the footsteps of her predecessors, the king
made her his wife. And she was worthy of his
choice; and her influence was, on the whole, good,
although she befriended the Jesuits, and prompted the
king to many acts of religious intolerance. It
was chiefly through her influence, added to that of
the Jesuits, that the king revoked the edict of Nantes,
and its revocation was attended by great sufferings
and privations among the persecuted Huguenots.
He had, on ascending the throne, in 1643, confirmed
the privileges of the Protestants; but, gradually,
he worried them by exactions and restraints, and, finally,
in 1685, by the revocation of the edict which Henry
IV. had passed, he withdrew his protection, and subjected
them to a more bitter persecution than at any preceding
period. All the Protestant ministers were banished,
or sent to the galleys, and the children of Protestants
were taken from their parents, and committed to the
care of their nearest Catholic relations, or such
persons as judges appointed. All the terrors
of military execution, all the artifices of priestcraft,
were put forth to make converts and such as relapsed
were subjected to cruel torments. A twentieth
part of them were executed, and the remainder hunted
from place to place. By these cruelties, France
was deprived of nearly six hundred thousand of the
best people in the land a great misfortune,
since they contributed, in their dispersion and exile,
to enrich, by their agriculture and manufactures, the
countries to which they fled.
From this period of his reign to his
death, Louis XIV. was a religious bigot, and the interests
of the Roman Church, next to the triumph of absolutism,
became the great desire of his life. He was punctual
and rigid in the outward cérémonials of his religion,
and professed to regret the follies and vices of his
early life. Through the influence of his confessor,
the Jesuit La Chaise, and his wife, Madame de Maintenon,
he sent away Montespan from his court, and discouraged
those gayeties for which it had once been distinguished.
But he was always fond of ceremony of all kinds, and
the etiquette of his court was most irksome and oppressive,
and wearied Madame de Maintenon herself, and caused
her to exclaim, in a letter to her brother, “Save
those who fill the highest stations, I know of none
more unfortunate than those who envy them.”
The favorite minister of the king
at this time was Louvois, a very able but extremely
prodigal man, who plunged Louis XIV. into innumerable
expenses, and encouraged his taste both for palaces
and war. It was probably through his intrigues,
in order to make himself necessary to the king, that
a general war again broke out in Europe.
In 1687 was formed the famous League
of Augsburg, by which the leading princes of Europe
united in a great confederacy to suppress the power
and encroachments of the French king. Louvois
intrigued to secure the election of the Cardinal de
Furstemberg to the archbishopric of Cologne, in opposition
to the interests of Bavaria, the natural ally of France,
conscious that, by so doing, he must provoke hostilities.
But this act was only the occasion, not the cause,
of war. Louis had enraged the Protestant world
by his persecution of the Huguenots. He had insulted
even the pope himself by sending an ambassador to Rome,
with guards and armed attendants equal to an army,
in order to enforce some privileges which it was not
for the interest or the dignity of the pope to grant;
he had encouraged the invasion of Germany by the Turks;
he had seized Strasburg, the capital of Alsace; he
bombarded Genoa, because they sold powder to the Algerines,
and compelled the doge to visit him as a suppliant;
he laid siege to some cities which belonged to Spain;
and he prepared to annex the Low Countries to his
dominions. Indeed, he treated all other powers
as if he were the absolute monarch of Europe, and
fear and jealousy united them against them. Germany,
Spain, and Holland, and afterwards England, Denmark,
Sweden, and Savoy, cooeperated together to crush the
common enemy of European liberties.
Louis made enormous exertions to resist
this powerful confederacy. Four hundred thousand
men were sent into the field, divided into four armies.
Two of these were sent into Flanders, one into Catalonia,
and one into Germany, which laid waste the Palatinate
with fire and sword. Louvois gave the order,
and Louis sanctioned it, which was executed with such
unsparing cruelty that all Europe was filled with
indignation and defiance.
The forces of Louis were immense,
but those of the allies were greater. The Spaniards,
Dutch, and English, had an army of fifty thousand
men in Flanders, eleven thousand of whom were commanded
by the Earl of Marlborough. The Germans sent
three more armies into the field; one commanded by
the Elector of Bavaria, on the Upper Rhine; another
by the Duke of Lorraine, on the Middle Rhine; and a
third by the Elector of Brandenburg, on the Lower
Rhine; and these, in the first campaign, obtained
signal successes. The next year, the Duke of
Savoy joined the allies, whose army was commanded by
Victor Amadeus; but he was beaten by Marshal Catinat,
one of the most distinguished of the French generals.
Luxembourg also was successful in Flanders, and gained
the great battle of Charleroi over the Germans and
Dutch: The combined fleet of the English and
Dutch was also defeated by the French at the battle
of Beachy Head. In the next campaign, Prince
Eugene and the Duke of Schomberg distinguished themselves
in checking the victorious career of Catinat; but
nothing of importance was effected. The following
spring, William III. and Louis XIV., the two great
heads of the contending parties, took the field themselves;
and Louis, with the aid of Luxembourg, took Namur,
in spite of the efforts of William to succor it.
Some other successes were gained by the French, and
Louis retired to Versailles to celebrate the victories
of his generals. The next campaign witnessed
another splendid victory over William and the allies,
by Luxembourg, at Neerwinden, when twelve thousand
men were killed; and also another, by Catinat, at Marsaglia,
in Italy, over the Duke of Savoy. The military
glory of Louis was now at its height; but, in the
campaign of 1694-95, he met with great reverses.
Luxembourg, the greatest of his generals, died.
The allies retook Huy and Namur, and the French king,
exhausted by the long war, was forced to make peace.
The treaty of Ryswick, in 1697, secured the tranquillity
of Europe for four years long enough only
for the contending parties to recover their energies,
and prepare for a more desperate contest. Louis
XIV., however, now acted on the defensive. The
allied powers were resolved on his complete humiliation.
War broke out again in 1701, and in
consequence of the accession of Philip V., grandson
of Louis XIV., to the throne of Spain. This great
war of the Spanish Succession, during which Marlborough
so greatly distinguished himself, claims a few explanatory
remarks.
Charles II., King of Spain, and the
last of the line of the Austrian princes, being without
an heir, and about to die, selected as his successor
Leopold of Bavaria, a boy five years of age, whose
grandmother was Maria Theresa. But there were
also two other claimants the Duke of Anjou,
grandson of Louis XIV., whose claim rested in being
the grandson of Maria Theresa, daughter of Philip IV.,
and sister of Charles II., and the Emperor of Germany,
whose mother was the daughter of Philip III.
The various European states looked with extreme jealousy
on the claims of the Emperor of Germany and the Duke
of Anjou, because they feared that the balance of power
would be seriously disturbed if either an Austrian
or a Bourbon prince became King of Spain. They,
therefore, generally supported the claims of the Bavarian
prince, especially England and Holland.
But the Prince of Bavaria suddenly
died, as it was supposed by poison, and Louis XIV.
so successfully intrigued, that his grandson was nominated
by the Spanish monarch as heir to his throne.
This incensed Leopold II. of Germany, and especially
William III., who was resolved that the house of Bourbon
should be no further aggrandized.
On the accession of the Duke of Anjou
to the Spanish throne, in 1701, a grand alliance was
formed, headed by the Emperor of Germany and the King
of England, to dethrone him. Louis XIV. long hesitated
between his ambition and the interests of his kingdom;
but ambition triumphed. He well knew that he
could only secure a crown to his grandson by a desperate
contest with indignant Europe. Austria, Holland,
Savoy, and England were arrayed against France.
And this war of the Spanish Succession was the longest,
the bloodiest, and the most disastrous war in which
Louis was ever engaged. It commenced the last
year of the reign of William III., and lasted thirteen
years.
The great hero of this war was doubtless
the Duke of Marlborough, although Prince Eugene gained
with him as imperishable glories as war can bestow.
John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, cannot be said
to be one of those geniuses who have impressed their
minds on nations and centuries; but he was a man who
gave great lustre to the British name, and who attained
to a higher pitch of military fame than any general
whom England has produced since Oliver Cromwell, with
the exception of Wellington.
He was born in 1650, of respectable
parents, and was page of honor to the Duke of York,
afterwards James II. While a mere boy, his bent
of mind was discernible, and he solicited and obtained
from the duke an ensign’s commission, and rapidly
passed through the military grades of lieutenant,
captain, major, and colonel. During the infamous
alliance between Louis XIV. and Charles II., he served
under Marshal Turenne, and learned from him the art
of war. But he also distinguished himself as
a diplomatic agent of Charles II., in his intrigues
with Holland and France. Before the accession
of James II., he was created a Scottish peer, by the
title of Baron Churchill. He followed his royal
patron in his various peregrinations, and, when he
succeeded to the English throne, he was raised to
an English peerage. But Marlborough deserted
his patron on the landing of William III., and was
made a member of his Privy Council, and lord of the
bed-chamber. Two days before the coronation of
William, he was made Earl of Marlborough; but was
not intrusted with as high military command as his
genius and services merited, William being apparently
jealous of his fame. On the accession of Anne,
he was sent to the Continent with the supreme command
of the English armies in the war with Louis about the
Spanish Succession. His services in the campaign
of 1702 secured a dukedom, and deservedly, for he
contended against great obstacles against
the obstinacy and stupidity of the Dutch deputies;
against the timidity of the English government at
home; and against the veteran armies of Louis, led
on by the celebrated Villars. But neither the
campaigns of 1702 or 1703 were marked by any decisive
battles. In 1704 was fought the celebrated battle
of Blenheim, by which the French power was crippled,
and the hopes of Louis prostrated.
The campaign of 1703 closed disastrously
for the allies. Europe was never in greater peril.
Bavaria united with France and Spain to crush Austria.
The Austrians had only twenty thousand men, while the
Bavarians had forty-five thousand men in the centre
of Germany, and Marshal Tallard was posted, with forty-five
thousand men, on the Upper Rhine. Marshal Villeroy
opposed Marlborough in the Netherlands.
But Marlborough conceived the bold
project of marching his troops to the banks of the
Danube, and there uniting with the Imperialists under
Prince Eugene, to cut off the forces of the enemy before
they could unite. So he left the Dutch to defend
themselves against Villeroy, rapidly ascended the
Rhine, before any of the enemy dreamed of his designs.
From Mentz, he proceeded with forty thousand men to
Heidelberg, and from Heidelberg to Donauworth, on the
Danube, where his troops, which had effected a junction
with the Austrians and Prussians, successfully engaged
the Bavarians. But the Bavarians and the French
also succeeded in uniting their forces; and both parties
prepared for a desperate conflict. There were
about eighty thousand men on each side. The French
and Bavarians were strongly intrenched at the village
of Blenheim; and Marlborough, against the advice of
most of his generals, resolved to attack their fortified
camp before it was reenforced by a large detachment
of troops which Villeroy had sent. “I know
the danger,” said Marlborough; “but a battle
is absolutely necessary.” He was victorious.
Forty thousand of the enemy were killed or taken prisoners;
Tallard himself was taken, and every trophy was secured
which marks a decisive victory. By his great victory,
the Emperor of Austria was relieved from his fears,
the Hungarians were overawed, Bavaria fell under the
sway of the emperor, and the armies of Louis were
dejected and discouraged. Marlborough marched
back again to Holland without interruption, was made
a prince of the empire, and received pensions and
lands from the English government, which made him
one of the richest and greatest of the English nobility.
The palace of Blenheim was built, and he received
the praises and plaudits of the civilized world.
The French were hardly able to cope
with Marlborough during the next campaign, but rallied
in 1706, during which year the great battle of Ramillies
was fought, and won by Marlborough. The conquest
of Brabant, and the greater part of Spanish Flanders,
resulted from this victory; and Louis, crippled and
humiliated, made overtures of peace. Though equitable,
they were rejected; the allies having resolved that
no peace should be made with the house of Bourbon
while a prince of that house continued to sit upon
the throne of Spain. Louis appealed now, in his
distress, to the national honor, sent his plate to
the mint, and resolved, in his turn, to contend, to
the last extremity, with his enemies, whom success
had intoxicated.
The English, not content with opposing
Louis in the Netherlands and in Germany, sent their
armies into Spain, also, who, united with the Austrians,
overran the country, and nearly completed its conquest.
One of the most gallant and memorable exploits of
the war was the siege and capture of Barcelona by
the Earl of Peterborough, the city having made one
of the noblest and most desperate defences since the
siege of Numantia.
The exertions of Louis were equal
to his necessities; and, in 1707, he was able to send
large armies into the field. None of his generals
were able to resist the Duke of Marlborough, who gained
new victories, and took important cities; but, in
Spain, the English met with reverses. In 1708,
Louis again offered terms of peace, which were again
rejected. His country was impoverished, his resources
were exhausted, and a famine carried away his subjects.
He agreed to yield the whole Spanish monarchy to the
house of Austria, without any equivalent; to cede
to the emperor his conquests on the Rhine, and to
the Dutch the great cities which Marlborough had taken;
to acknowledge the Elector of Brandenburg as King
of Prussia, and Anne as Queen of England; to remove
the Pretender from his dominions; to acknowledge the
succession of the house of Hanover; to restore every
thing required by the Duke of Savoy; and agree to
the cessions made to the King of Portugal.
And yet these conditions, so honorable
and advantageous to the allies, were rejected, chiefly
through the influence of Marlborough, Eugene, and
the pensionary Heinsius, who acted from entirely selfish
motives. Louis was not permitted to cherish the
most remote hope of peace without surrendering the
strongest cities of his dominions as pledges for the
entire evacuation of the Spanish monarchy by his grandson.
This he would not agree to. He threw himself,
in his distress, upon the loyalty of his people.
Their pride and honor were excited; and, in spite
of all their misfortunes, they prepared to make new
efforts. Again were the French defeated at the
great battle of Malplaquet, when ninety thousand men
contended on each side; and again did Louis sue for
peace. Again were his overtures rejected, and
again did he rally his exhausted nation. Some
victories in Spain were obtained over the confederates;
but the allies gradually were hemming him around, and
the king-hunt was nearly up, when unexpected dissensions
among the allies relieved him of his enemies.
These dissensions were the struggles
between the Whigs and Tories in England; the former
maintaining that no peace should be made; the latter,
that the war had been carried far enough, and was prolonged
only to gratify the ambition of Marlborough. The
great general, in consequence, lost popularity; and
the Tories succeeded in securing a peace, just as
Louis was on the verge of ruin. Another campaign,
had the allies been united, would probably have enabled
Marlborough to penetrate to Paris. That was his
aim; that was the aim of his party. But the nation
was weary of war, and at last made peace with Louis.
By the treaty of Utrecht, (1713,) Philip V. resumed
the throne of Spain, but was compelled to yield his
rights to the crown of France in case of the death
of a sickly infant, the great-grandson of Louis XIV.,
who was heir apparent to the throne; but, in other
respects, the terms were not more favorable than what
Louis had offered in 1706, and very inadequate to
the expenses of the war. The allies should have
yielded to the overtures of Louis before, or should
have persevered. But party spirit, and division
in the English cabinet and parliament, prevented the
consummation which the Whigs desired, and Louis was
saved from further humiliation and losses.
But his power was broken. He
was no longer the autocrat of Europe, but a miserable
old man, who had lived to see irreparable calamities
indicted on his nation, and calamities in consequence
of his ambition. His latter years were melancholy.
He survived his son and his grandson. He saw
himself an object of reproach, of ridicule, and of
compassion. He sought the religious consolation
of his church, but was the victim of miserable superstition,
and a tool of the Jesuits. He was ruled by his
wife, the widow of the poet Scarron, whom his children
refused to honor. His last days were imbittered
by disappointments and mortifications, disasters in
war, and domestic afflictions. No man ever, for
a while, enjoyed a prouder preeminence. No man
ever drank deeper of the bitter cup of disappointed
ambition and alienated affections. No man ever
more fully realized the vanity of this world.
None of the courtiers, by whom he was surrounded, he
could trust, and all his experiences led to a disbelief
in human virtue. He saw, with shame, that his
palaces, his wars, and his pleasures, had consumed
the resources of the nation, and had sowed the seeds
of a fearful revolution. He lost his spirits;
his temper became soured; mistrust and suspicion preyed
upon his mind. His love of pomp survived all
his other weaknesses, and his court, to the last, was
most rigid in its wearisome formalities. But the
pageantry of Versailles was a poor antidote to the
sorrows which bowed his head to the ground, except
on those great public occasions when his pride triumphed
over his grief. Every day, in his last years,
something occurred to wound his vanity, and alienate
him from all the world but Madame de Maintenon, the
only being whom he fully trusted, and who did not
deceive him. Indeed, the humiliated monarch was
an object of pity as well as of reproach, and his
death was a relief to himself, as well as to his family.
He died in 1715, two years after the peace of Utrecht,
not much regretted by the nation.
Louis XIV. cannot be numbered among the monsters of the human race who have
worn the purple of royalty. His chief and worst vice was egotism, which
was born with him, which was cultivated by all the influences of his education,
and by all the circumstances of his position. This absorbing egotism made
him insensible to the miseries he inflicted, and cherished in his soul the
notion that France was created for him alone. His mistresses, his friends,
his wives, his children, his court, and the whole nation, were viewed only as
the instruments of his pride and pleasure. All his crimes and blunders
proceeded from his extraordinary selfishness. If we could look on him
without this moral taint, which corrupted and disgraced him, we should see an
indulgent father and a generous friend. He attended zealously to the
duties of his station, and sought not to shake off his responsibilities.
He loved pleasure, but, in its pursuit, he did not forget the affairs of the
realm. He rewarded literature, and appreciated merit. He honored the
institutions of religion, and, in his latter days, was devoted to its duties, so
far as he understood them. He has been foolishly panegyrized, and as
foolishly censured. Still his reign was baneful, on the whole, especially
to the interests of enlightened Christianity and to popular liberty. He
was a bigoted Catholic, and sought to erect, on the ruins of states and empires,
an absolute and universal throne. He failed; and instead of bequeathing to
his successors the power which he enjoyed, he left them vast debts, a distracted
empire, and a discontented people. He bequeathed to France the revolution
which hurled her monarch from his throne, but which was overruled for her
ultimate good.