This change of rulers worked no prejudice to Berwick. The Regent
Philip offered him the government of Guienne one of the finest of the
provinces; and he accepted it. When the patent was made out, he was
surprised to find it made to Du Maine under whom he was to act as
lieutenant. He refused to do so. The Regent sent for him and explained
to him how necessary he found it to flatter and conciliate his brother
Du Maine. My Lord Duke, said Berwick, nobody knows better than I the
difference between a genuine prince of the blood like you, and a
spurious one like myself and like Du Maine; and I will not take civil
service under one of the latter sort. Philip knew what an obstinate
fellow he was dealing with, and he yielded. The patent was made out
direct to Berwick.
One would think that Philip V. owing his crown to his French relations,
would have kept at peace with them; and he would have done so but for
that Farnese creature. He and the Regent fell into a dispute and then
into a quarrel and then into hostile array; and Berwick took the field.
In the Spanish army was his son the duke of Liria, and it might happen
that father and son should meet face to face in battle. Berwick wrote
to his son to sink all filial regard for him, and to serve his king as
if he were a born Spaniard. The two Philips however became reconciled
before much mischief was done.
In 1716 Marlborough died. The British idea seems to be that his career
of victory did not end at that sad event. In the Tower of London some
years ago, I was shown a cannon which the warden who spoke by the
authority of the three kingdoms, declared was taken by Marlborough at
the battle of Dettingen. When I let fall a timid doubt, he repeated
the statement with an indignant emphasis which silenced cavil. History
does indeed record one other case of the sort. You remember at Rome,
near the Cloaca Maxima, a spring where women were washing. It is there
that Castor and Pollux watered their horses after the battle of Lake
Regillus. Those two warriors had already been dead many years, and
placed in the firmament where we still behold them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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