Clutching at Straws
Olivares grew increasingly desperate, renewing contacts with the French malcontents who had been plotting against Richelieu since 1636. Several had fled to London where they backed Spain’s fruitless efforts to persuade Charles I to join an alliance against Louis XIII. The outbreak of the British Civil Wars rendered this a lost cause. By 1640 Olivares had turned his attention to a group around Count Soissons who had fled to the sovereign duchy of Bouillon on the Netherlands frontier. Encouraged by the ambitious marquis de Cinq Mars, they believed they had the support of the French queen, Anne of Austria, and that a show of force would prompt Louis to dismiss Richelieu. Olivares regarded the conspirators as the ‘sole means of salvation from shipwreck’ and promised support.
The malcontents in exile in England were supposed to sail with a scratch fleet to raise the Huguenots in Guyenne, but never arrived. Details of the plot had already reached Richelieu by April 1641 and he altered his campaign plan to counter it, massing 12,000 men under Châtillon in the Champagne to block Soissons in Bouillon. The plotters panicked. Frédéric-Maurice de Bouillon declared that his current capacity as French commander in Italy prevented him from joining the rebels’ planned expedition. He nonetheless urged Soissons to act. General Lamboy arrived in Bouillon with 7,000 Spanish and Imperialists in June to give 9,500 troops altogether and they advanced south, defeating Châtillon at La Marfée on 9 July. Any hope of exploiting the victory was wrecked by Soissons’ death, allegedly self-inflicted by raising his visor with a loaded pistol that accidentally went off. The revolt collapsed, enabling Richelieu to mop up the plotters by the following June once he had gathered more evidence and was certain of Louis XIII’s support. Cinq Mars was executed, while Bouillon escaped death by converting to Catholicism and surrendering his duchy. Implicated in treason again, Louis’ brother Gaston fled to Savoy.
Duke Charles of Lorraine had meanwhile accepted French terms on 2 April 1641 in order to recover his duchy as a French fief. However, his failure to assist France during Soissons’ invasion raised suspicions and led to his expulsion again in August. He invaded the duchy with 5,000 men from Luxembourg in April 1642, scoring a few minor successes, but lacked the means to exploit these and was back across the frontier within five months. The situation returned to that prior to April 1641, except that the duke had recaptured Sierck, La Mothe and Longwy.
The intervention of Soissons and Lorraine at least frustrated any immediate exploitation of the capture of Arras by France. Richelieu then switched resources to Catalonia, while the Dutch were distracted by the return of the war to north-west Germany at the beginning of 1642. At last the Spanish were able to go onto the offensive, but rather than being intended to force the Dutch to make peace, operations were now simply to distract France from attacking Spain itself. The new governor of the Spanish Netherlands, de Melo, advanced up the Scheldt into Artois, retaking Lens (19 April) and La Basseé (11 May). The two small French armies in the area under Harcourt and Guiche failed to coordinate an effective defence. De Melo and 19,000 troops caught Guiche’s 10,000 men at the abbey of Honnecourt on 26 May, killing 3,200 and capturing 3,400 along with most of the baggage and the pay chest. The victory allowed de Melo to complete the recovery of northern Artois.
Changing of the Guard in Spain and France
The success did little to help Olivares who had become the scapegoat for Spain’s mounting problems. His fall from grace demonstrates how the exercise of power in early modern Europe rested as much on personal relationships as policy. Olivares had alienated those around him as his ‘method of government became more and more autocratic, his manner more tactless, his reactions more unreasonable’. The poet Francisco de Quevedo was one of the many at the receiving end of the count-duke’s ill-temper, whisked away from his lodgings one night in 1639 to become one of the ‘disappeared’ (desaparecido) after he had passed the king a satirical attack on Olivares written on a napkin.
The discontent was fanned by the queen and other court ladies, notably Margarita of Savoy who blamed Olivares for failing to support her in Portugal. Their efforts were discreetly encouraged by Ambassador Grana on Ferdinand’s behalf. Philip IV sent Olivares a careful and tactful letter on 17 January 1643, presenting dismissal as a gracious response to his repeated requests to resign. Grandees rushed to Madrid to ensure the king did not change his mind and angry crowds gathered as Olivares finally left for his estates five days later.
A few of the count-duke’s closest associates were arrested, but policy remained unchanged. Philip intended to govern himself. He attracted some sympathy after the deaths of his wife (1644) and son (1646), but remained an uninspiring monarch. He relied increasingly on Olivares’ nephew Haro, who eventually emerged as the new prime minister after 1648. Many of Olivares’ other protégés retained their posts because their experience was invaluable. The problems remained the same and they were unable to think of an alternative to the count-duke’s strategy of conservación and reputación.
In France, Richelieu died on 4 December 1642, followed by Louis XIII on 14 May, leaving the crown to his son aged four and a half. Queen Anne had been largely ignored for the previous thirteen years, having been distrusted by her husband thanks to her Spanish birth. She now outmanoeuvred both Gaston and the prince de Condé to claim sole regency, distributing so many rewards to secure support that one courtier quipped that the French language had been reduced to the five words, ‘the queen is so kind’. The government was staffed with men more inclined to the dévot peace policy, but continuity was symbolized by Anne herself, who took up residence in the Palais Cardinal bequeathed by Richelieu to the crown and now renamed the Palais Royal. She also relied on his protégé Mazarin, who had been involved in drafting French peace objectives.
Despite their foreign births, both Anne and Mazarin identified with France and rejected inducements from Philip IV to make a quick peace. They were determined to wear their opponents down by a war of attrition until they improved their terms. Mazarin was more pragmatic than Richelieu and was willing to abandon the chimera of universal peace and the slogan of ‘German Liberty’ that had been considered essential to French prestige. He was also more interested in larger territorial gains since these played better to the home audience that needed to be convinced he was the best man to guide the monarchy.
Rocroi, the last tercio, by Augusto Ferrer-Dalmau
The Battle of Rocroi 1643
The Flanders campaign would test the two new regimes. De Melo was ordered to repeat his success of the previous year to distract France from attacking other Spanish territory. Leaving 15,000 men to protect the northern frontier, he advanced in four columns. They converged on the small fortified town of Rocroi near the Meuse valley and besieged it from 15 May. Despite de Melo’s claim that it was ‘the key to Champagne’, Rocroi had little strategic value, but the attack assumed great political significance given Louis XIII’s death the day before. The new regime in France could not afford to start with a defeat. Command of the northern army had just been entrusted to Condé’s son, the duc d’Enghien, as part of Richelieu’s strategy of neutralizing threats from the grandees by distributing patronage. Having removed the elder Condé as a liability, the cardinal persuaded Louis XIII to compensate the family by appointing the prince’s inexperienced son to what was expected to be a secondary front. It was now too late to change these arrangements that seem wise only with hindsight. D’Enghien has entered French history as the ‘Great Condé’ from the title he assumed on his father’s death in 1646. Fourth in line to the throne, he was prickly and self-important, but conviction in his own distinguished lineage gave him unshakeable confidence.
D’Enghien was determined to prove himself in battle and overruled advice to force de Melo to lift the siege by threatening his communications with the Netherlands. Instead, France’s stability was staked on an extremely risky direct attack. Rocroi could only be approached along tracks through a forest and the French army would be exposed as it emerged until it could deploy on the plain south-east of the town. D’Enghien was also slightly outnumbered, with 15,000 infantry, 6,000 cavalry and 12 guns to de Melo’s 18,000 foot, 5,000 horse and 18 cannon. The Spanish army also included many of the regiments that had helped destroy Guiche the year before.
Whether by luck or design, the French timed their arrival well as they appeared late on the afternoon of 18 May and the day was too far advanced for de Melo to begin battle. He deployed on the plain opposite the French, sending urgent orders to General Beck with the fourth and last of his columns to join him. Both armies slept on the plain, but d’Enghien was alerted to his opponent’s dispositions by a deserter who told him that de Melo had posted 500 musketeers on the edge of the forest. Three hundred French musketeers caught the Spanish here still fast asleep at 3 a.m. and routed them. The artillery then opened up on both sides, but visibility was still poor, giving time for the two armies to stand to. Both commanders placed their infantry in two lines in the centre with their artillery in front, flanked by two lines of cavalry on either wing. The French also had a reserve of their best infantry and cavalry as a third line under Sirot behind the centre. The Spanish line stretched 2,500 metres between the eastern edge of the forest and the St Anne marsh to the west. The French would have to break through if they wanted to relieve Rocroi. The Spanish cavalry were still organized as independent squadrons, whereas the French had theirs under tighter control grouped into regiments. They copied the Swedish practice of attaching musketeers to the cavalry to increase firepower.
De Melo was happy to wait, expecting Beck’s imminent arrival. Impatient, d’Enghien led the French cavalry on the right to attack around 5 a.m., soon followed by La Ferté and the horsemen on the left. La Ferté began his charge too far away and his horses were blown by the time they neared the German cavalry under Isenburg on the Spanish right. The French were routed, many fleeing into the marsh or forest. The French infantry fell back, abandoning some of their artillery. Meanwhile, d’Enghien’s attack had been broken by Albuquerque’s counter-charge that overran most of the supporting French musketeers. It was now that the superior French organization made a difference. The Spanish cavalry had dispersed and took too long to rally, allowing Sirot to move the reserve to block Isenburg long enough for some of the French cavalry on the left to return and help him push the German troopers from the field. D’Enghien despatched Gassion with half of his cavalry for a second attack that eventually forced Albuquerque’s scattered men to retreat.
The Spanish infantry were now exposed. D’Enghien attacked their second line with the other half of his cavalry, hitting the Walloon regiments immediately on the left. He struck each regiment in turn, using weight of numbers and a combination of charges and supporting firepower from his infantry to break them. One by one, the Walloon regiments left the field, followed by the Germans further west. The French now turned on the stronger first line, hitting the Italians on its left. They repulsed the initial attack, but then left the field in good order, probably on their own initiative. The French were happy to let them leave since this isolated the five Spanish tercios. Three were broken after further hard fighting, but the other two repulsed three more attacks with a general salvo at fifty paces. It was now 10 a.m. and they were short of ammunition. The French were also exhausted and feared Beck’s arrival. D’Enghien offered terms. One regiment of about 2,000 men laid down its arms in return for being allowed to march home across France. The other soldiers remained defiant, but further resistance was hopeless and they soon surrendered as prisoners of war. De Melo had escaped, dropping his marshal’s baton, to join Beck on the other side of the forest. D’Enghien captured Thionville on 10 August after a long siege, and then Sierck on 2 September, eliminating the duke of Lorraine’s main base. These were welcome gains, but hardly indicative of Spanish collapse.
Rocroi owes its place in military history to the French propaganda that hailed it as a major victory, as well as Condé self-promotion, since it cemented d’Enghien’s reputation. This in turn ensured he influenced eighteenth- and nineteenth-century generals and found his way onto staff college syllabuses. The latter regularly cite the battle as a demonstration of the superiority of French linear tactics, combining infantry firepower with cavalry charges. Victory was in fact due to superior regimental command and control. Spanish firepower successfully repulsed the French, but their key commanders were killed or wounded relatively early on, while de Melo failed to capitalize on the initial success by sending his infantry forward. Spanish losses were serious, especially because they included so many veterans and came in the humiliating form of surrender. The French took 3,862 prisoners, excluding those they allowed to march home. Most of the prisoners were exchanged in July 1643 for the men taken at Honnecourt. Other Spanish casualties totalled 3,500, compared to 4,500 French killed and wounded. The French lost a further 7,000, mainly to sickness, in the rest of the campaign. The Army of Flanders remained potent, numbering 77,517 in December, compared to the Dutch establishment that had sunk to 60,000. Rocroi’s real significance was the French avoidance of a defeat that might have destabilized Anne’s regency and obliged the country to make peace.
France’s success was not matched by their Dutch allies who were losing interest in the European war. Many in the Republic began to see the Spanish Netherlands not as a threat, but as a buffer against an aggressive, expansionist France. Spain’s reception of Dutch envoys as full ambassadors signalled a willingness for peace on the basis of independence. The States of Holland forced a further reduction in the size of the army in 1641–2 and by 1643 had blocked the secret committees that had allowed Frederick Henry to manage war and diplomacy unsupervised. His own failing health contributed to the growing inclination for peace and by March 1644 only Utrecht and Zeeland still opposed a compromise with Spain. The Westphalian congress could begin at last.
