A medal was struck at the Tower to commemorate the conquests of Sardinia and Minorca.
_Rev._: Victory holding a palm-branch in one hand, and the Union Jack in the other. Two islands appearing in the distance, ‘SARDINIA ET BALEARIS MINOR CAPTÆ.’
Stanhope returned to his military duties in Spain. He was at Barcelona again on November 9. It is not necessary to follow the course of events. The death of the Emperor Joseph I. in 1711 opened the succession to his brother Charles; while his want of success and the animosity of the Castilians destroyed all chance of his succeeding to the crown of Spain. In fact, he became Emperor of Germany as Charles VI.
The Ministry of Harley and St. John opened negotiations for peace. The abandonment of the Catalans and Majorcans to their fate cast an indelible stain of infamy on the British Government. Queen Anne had several times pledged her royal word for the preservation of the lives and liberties of the Catalans. In consequence of those promises the Catalans had begun and maintained an insurrection. Yet no stipulation was made in the treaty, and St. John had the effrontery to announce that ‘it is not for the interests of England to preserve the Catalan liberties.’
On April 11, 1713, the Peace of Utrecht was signed, the Emperor Charles refusing to be a party to it. The French Prince was acknowledged as King of Spain, being Philip V. of that country, but resigning any right of succession to the French crown. The Duke of Savoy was to have Sicily; Gibraltar and Minorca were ceded to England; the Netherlands, Naples, Milan, and Sardinia to the Emperor. Lord Stanhope, the descendant of the conqueror of Minorca, has pleaded with some truth that, whilst the glories of the war belong to the whole British people, the disgrace of the peace, the unworthy result of such great achievements, rests on a small knot of factious politicians.
Their beloved King Charles, now Emperor of Germany, must be acquitted of blame as regards the Catalans and Majorcans. He was powerless. Writing to General Stanhope, he said: ‘Knowing as I do your goodness of heart, I am persuaded that you and your friends will compassionate the fidelity, firmness, and misfortune of my poor Catalans. No difficulties, no dangers, no temptations could shake their generous loyalty. All this pierces my heart. I leave you to judge whether it is in my power to aid them without a naval force. I doubt not that you will consider the dreadful state to which they have been reduced by the evil-minded men of your country, contrary to the most solemn and repeated engagements.’