And yet that Transaction, doughty as it was, took up four most precious Months, which most certainly might have been much better employ’d in rendering it impossible for the Enemy to re-enter Spain; nor had there been any Great Difficulty in so doing, but the contrary, if the General at Madrid had thought convenient to have join’d the Troops under the Earl of Peterhorow, and then to have march’d directly towards Pampelona, or the Frontiers of France. To this the Earl of Peterborow solicited the King, and those about him; he advis’d, desir’d, and intreated him to lose no time, but to put in Execution those Measures resolv’d on at Barcelona. A Council of War in Valencia renew’d the same Application; but all to no Purpose, his Rout was order’d him, and that to meet his Majesty on the Frontiers of Arragon. There, indeed, the Earl did meet the King; and the French General an Army, which, by Virtue of a decrepid Intelligence, he never saw or heard of till he fled from it to his Camp at Guadalira. Inexpressible with the Confusion in this fatal Camp: The King from Arragon, The Earl of Peterborow from Valencia arriving in it the same Day, almost the same Hour that the Earl of Galoway enter’d under a hasty Retreat before the French Army.
But to return to Order, which a Zeal of Justice has made me somewhat anticipate; the Earl had not been long at Valencia before he gave Orders to Major-General Windham to march with all the Forces he had, which were not above two thousand Men, and lay Siege to Requina, a Town ten Leagues distant from Valencia, and in the Way to Madrid. The Town was not very strong, nor very large; but sure the odliest fortify’d that ever was. The Houses in a Circle conneftively compos’d the Wall; and the People, who defended the Town, instead of firing from Hornworks, Counterscarps, and Bastions, fir’d out of the Windows of their Houses.


