Of all the many blunders Great Britain committed during the Seven Years' War, perhaps the gravest was to win too smashing a victory. With the signing of the Treaty of Paris in 1763, the little island kingdom became the world's leading colonial and maritime nation. That development upset the balance of power and left the British with few friends in Europe.

Britain's vastly expanded empire was built at the expense of her two ancient rivals, France and Spain. The British Army had already conquered French Canada by 1761, when Charles III of Spain chose to enter the Seven Years' War on the side of his Bourbon cousin, Louis XV of France. The British promptly humiliated Spain by capturing Havana, the capital of Cuba. To recover Cuba, the Spanish had to give up Florida at the peace conference. The French sought to mollify their chagrined allies by offering to cede the colony of Louisiana. The Spanish hesitated at first, but at last they realised that Louisiana would serve to buffer silver-rich Mexico against further Anglo-American expansion. Thus on November 5, 1762, France secretly transferred the island of New Orleans and all Louisiana west of the Mississippi to Spain.

The two Bourbon kingdoms yearned for revenge, and an opportunity soon presented itself. In the spring of 1775, thirteen colonies in British North America revolted against the rule of George III and the British Parliament. For France and Spain, the American Revolution was a godsend. They rejoiced in Britain's predicament and hoped her troubles would last many years.

Wasting no time, the French and Spanish set up bogus trading companies to send the American Rebels covert shipments of arms, munitions and other supplies, and they loaned thousands of dollars to the Continental Congress. A "Memorial of the Court of Spain to the Court of France," dated October 17, 1777, declared "our main object" was the "expanding of this civil war, thus lessening the power of England more and more."

Everything went as the Spanish government desired, except the French became too friendly with the Americans. Louis XIV gave the Rebels thirteen times as much aid as Charles III, and in 1778, France entered the war as a full-fledged ally of the infant United States.

Despite the repeated urgings of the French and Americans, Madrid balked at taking the same step. Spain meddled in the American Revolution simply to advance her own interests. The Spanish had no sympathy for the Rebel cause; in fact, they hardly distinguished at the time between Englishmen and Americans. The Spanish also feared that the spirit of insurrection would spread south to their own colonies. Moreover, they hoped Britain might try to buy Spanish neutrality by surrendering Florida and Gibraltar.

Treaty of Aranjuez

Britain was anything but accommodating, however, and Spain eventually succumbed to the temptation of striking directly at her old foe. On April 12, 1779, Spain and France concluded another secret accord, the Treaty of Aranjuez. Spain agreed to participate openly in the war in exchange for French aid in recapturing Florida, Minorca, the Bay of Honduras and Gibraltar. Scrupulously avoiding the appearance of sanctioning a colonial rebellion, the Spanish made no alliance with the United States.

Spain concentrated her main might against the British fortress of Gibraltar. Yet in spite of considerable French assistance and a siege lasting four years, a dogged British garrison held the "Rock" for George III. Ironically, Spain's most glorious successes of the war were achieved on her lightly defended and sparsely settled North American frontier.

These victories were the handiwork of the Acting Governor of Louisiana, who consistently out-thought, out-manoeuvred and outfought his British adversaries. His name was Bernardo De Galvez, and as his monarch later decreed, this outstanding soldier deserved the sole credit for restoring an enormous territory to the Spanish Empire.

Galvez was born to a noble family on July 23, 1746. Entering the Spanish Army as a boy officer in 1762, he fought the Portuguese as a lieutenant and was shortly promoted to captain. Sent to Mexico in 1765, Galvez had himself posted to the wild Nueva Vizcaya-Sonora frontier and participated in several expeditions against the Apache Indians. A brave and resourceful leader, he enjoyed a rapid rise. As his authority increased, Galvez revealed a talent for innovation. He was the first officer in Mexico to convince Apache prisoners to serve the Spanish as scouts. Galvez also demonstrated an iron will and a willingness to attempt the impossible, once he led 135 regulars on a blistering forced march after an elusive war party. Following the Indians across the Pecos River, Galvez tracked them down and exterminated them. He suffered an ugly wound during this pursuit, but he ignored the pain until his mission was accomplished.

Returning to Spain in 1771, Galvez took a leave of absence and served in a French regiment to hone his military skills. In 1775, the captain received his sixth wound while participating in an abortive sortie on Algiers. Upgraded to lieutenant colonel in the Spanish Army, the energetic Galvez spent his convalescence teaching at Spain's famous military school in Avila. In 1776, Galvez - now a colonel - was ordered to New Orleans as the city's commandant, and on January 1, 1777, he was made the Acting Governor of Louisiana. He was not yet thirty years of age.

Galvez's meteoric career surprised few Spaniards. After all, his father was the Viceroy of New Spain and his uncle, Spain's top colonial administrator, headed the Council of the Indies. No doubt nepotism played an important role in the young soldier's advancement, but Galvez proved himself worthy of every position fortune thrust upon him.

In Louisiana, Galvez was a very popular and efficient governor. He encouraged immigration to his province, and he took the colony's lucrative trade out of foreign hands by expelling English merchants from New Orleans. He charmed the French creole population, long resentful of Spanish rule, by marrying a beautiful local widow named Felice de St. Maxent.

Galvez knew that war with Britain was imminent, and he moved to improve the security of his colony. He turned New Orleans into a supply base for the Continental Army, a rest stop for Rebel raiders ravaging British West Florida, and a haven for American privateers. Working closely with his immediate superior, the Captain General of Havana, Galvez set up an elaborate espionage system in East and West Florida. which kept him accurately informed as to the strength and plans of his British neighbours.

On May 18, 1779, Spain notified her colonial officials that she would declare war on England by June 21. On July 13, four days before formal word of the declaration reached Havana, Governor Galvez summoned a junta de querra (council of war) at New Orleans to map his strategy. Every adviser but one favoured a defensive posture, but Galvez recognised that such a policy invited disaster. He had less than 800 regulars, half of them raw recruits, and only 1,478 militia to guard his sprawling colony. The governor's spies reported that the British intended to crush New Orleans between a powerful pincer movement the moment war broke out. Fifteen hundred Redcoats would sail down the Mississippi from Canada and a force of equal size would advance from Pensacola, the capital of West Florida. Galvez saw that the only way to save Louisiana was to hit the enemy first, and hit them hard.

Surprise

Galvez's one advantage was surprise. It would take weeks for the British in America to learn they were at war with Spain. In the meantime, Galvez could pounce on their line of Mississippi River forts at Manchac, Baton Rouge and Natchez. Not wasting a minute, Galvez began to assemble ships, guns and soldiers for an ascent of the Mississippi, setting August 23 as his date of departure. Then five days before the campaign was to start, a terrible hurricane vented its wrath on New Orleans. The supplies and boats Galvez had gathered with such great pains were ruined, sunk or washed away. The city's defences were also badly battered by the weather, but nothing could dampen the governor's resolve to get at the British.

Driving himself mercilessly, Galvez was ready to march by August 27, 1779. He left New Orleans with 170 veteran soldiers, 330 recently arrived recruits from Mexico and the Canary Islands, twenty carabiniers, sixty white militia, eighty free blacks and mulattoes, and seven American volunteers - 667 men in all. The troops tramped along the Mississippi shore, escorted by a flotilla of flatboats transporting the expedition's ten cannon, four 4-pounders, one 24-pounder and five 78-pounders. Galvez went ahead to drum up recruits in the German and Acadian settlements which lay up-river. He rejoined the column with 600 more whites and blacks and 160 Indians, raising his army's total to 1,427.

Eleven days and 105 miles later, Galvez's force reached the vicinity of Manchac. It had been a gruelling trek; at least a third of the troops had been incapacitated by fatigue, heat or disease, and the rest had no idea why they were enduring such hardships. At that moment, Galvez exhibited his flair for inspiring rhetoric. For the first time, he informed his soldiers that a state of war existed between Spain and Great Britain. He followed this startling news with a ringing challenge. After coming so far and suffering so much, he asked the men, were they going to turn tail and scamper back to New Orleans? The Spaniards and creoles responded with a cheer. At dawn the next day, September 7, the militia stormed Fort Manchac, killing one Redcoat and capturing twenty more with no loss to themselves, six other Redcoats had managed to escape in the confusion, but that did not mar the victory.

Galvez advanced quickly on Baton Rouge, where he arrived on September 12. By now, the Spanish force had dwindled to 384 regular infantry, 400 militia, Indians and blacks, and fourteen gunners. Furthermore, the element of surprise was gone. Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Dickson awaited Galvez's coming in a crude fort with earthen walls and wooden palisades manned by 146 Redcoats from the 16th Regiment of Foot and 60th Royal American Regiment, 201 Hessians of the Waldeck Regiment, eleven Royal Artillerymen, and 150 armed settlers and Negroes. Thirteen well emplaced guns and a chevaux de frise commanded the approaches to the British works, and the fort was surrounded by a ditch eighteen feet wide and nine feet deep.

It would require two months to reduce the British stronghold by conventional siege methods, but fever and insubordination would destroy the Spanish army in less than half that time. To speed things along, Galvez resorted to a ruse. On the night of September 20, while a work party distracted the British by chopping down trees on the opposite side of the fort, Galvez had another group of Spaniards quietly dig a trench which brought his guns to within musket range of Dickson's walls.

At 5:45 a.m. the next day, the Spanish commenced a close-range bombardment that forced the British to surrender in three hours. In the formal capitulation agreement, Colonel Dickson included the eighty Waldeck grenadiers guarding Fort Panmure at Natchez. Dickson's troops marched out of Baton Rouge on September 22, 1779, and the entire Lower Mississippi passed into Spanish hands.

At the trifling cost of one man killed and two wounded, Bernardo De Galvez added 430 leagues of the best land watered by the Mississippi to the Spanish Empire. Leading an improvised army, he captured three forts, 550 enemy regulars and more than 500 armed civilians. Galvez had much to take pride in, but he was not satisfied. His major goal was to clear the British out of West Florida. The Spanish espionage system reported the British defences at Mobile and Pensacola were in an advanced state of decay. Galvez decided to attack before the enemy could rectify the situation.

With his customary energy, Galvez organised an expedition to seize Mobile, augmenting his field army with some fresh troops who had debarked at New Orleans during the governor's first campaign. In all, Galvez's new force numbered 754 men: forty-three regulars of the Regiment of the Prince, fifty of the Regiment of Havana, 141 of the Regiment of Louisiana, fourteen artillerymen, twenty-six carabiniers, 323 white militia, 107 free blacks and mulattoes, twenty-four slaves and twenty-six Americans. On January 11, 1780, Galvez embarked his troops aboard twelve vessels; a merchantman frigate, a regular frigate, four settees, a packet boat, four brigs and a galliot, and set sail for Mobile. At the same time, the governor sent an officer to Havana to request 2,000 additional regulars.

Galvez made the entrance of Mobile Bay by February 9. Eleven days later, he was joined by five ships from Cuba bearing reinforcements. Instead of the 2,000 soldiers Galvez expected, however, there were only 567 members of the Regiment of Navarro aboard. Nevertheless, Galvez now had 1,321 troops, four times as many as his opponent, Captain Elias Durnford, who peered out on the Spanish host from crumbling Fort Charlotte. Durnford's garrison included ninety-eight Royal Americans, four Maryland Loyalists, two surgeons, sixty sailors, fifty-four militia and fifty-one armed blacks.

The siege began on March 1, 1780, in the peculiarly gracious style which characterised 18th century warfare. Galvez demanded the surrender of Fort Charlotte and Durnford refused. Then both commanders exchanged compliments and presents, while Spanish sappers sweated to construct trenches and advanced batteries, and British gunners endeavoured to blast the Spaniards into oblivion.

The time for polite pleasantries came to an end on March 7, when Galvez intercepted a letter intended for Durnford as it was being smuggled through Spanish lines. The note disclosed that relief for Fort Charlotte was near at hand. Major General Sir John Campbell, the British commander in West Florida, had left Pensacola on March 5 with 1,100 regulars and Indians, and he was making all haste to reach Mobile. Motivated by this intelligence, Galvez demanded more of his men. Incurring discouraging losses, the Spanish bravely emplaced their heavy guns near Fort Charlotte by March 13. Galvez pounded the place all day, and by nightfall, after 5 days Durnford had a white flag raised. Following a discussion of terms, the gates of Fort Charlotte swung open to the Spanish conquerors at 10:00 a.m., March 14. Unknown to Durnford at the time, Campbell was a scant twenty-seven miles away.

The fall of Mobile sent a shock wave coursing through British West Florida. After a heartbreaking forced march of ninety miles, Campbell had to withdraw with nothing to show for his labours. The Choctaw Indians went over to the Spanish, and the loyalty of Campbell's Chickasaw allies was also badly shaken. A delighted Charles III named Galvez "Governor of Louisiana and Mobile," and promoted the daring young warrior to the rank of "Field Marshal in command of Spanish operations in America." The King also instructed the Governor General of Havana to give Galvez whatever aid he wanted for future operations.

Invasion Fleet

In August 1780, Galvez went to Cuba to raise an army large enough to besiege Pensacola. The Spanish intelligence network estimated that Campbell had 2,500 men there; sixty-two of the Royal Artillery, 135 of the 16th Foot, 200 of the 60th Foot, 351 of the Waldeck Regiment, 242 of the Pennsylvania Loyalists, 300 of the Maryland Loyalists, seven of the 57th Foot, 600 militia, 300 sailors and 300 armed blacks. At a meeting held on August 11, the junta de querra of Havana agreed to furnish Galvez with 3,800 men, three months' worth of provisions, and enough ships to carry the lot to Pensacola. The junta also dispatched requests for 2,000 additional soldiers to Mexico and Campeche and asked Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo for even more reinforcements.

It took time to assemble even a part of so large a force. Finally on October 16, Galvez sailed from Havana with seven ships-of-the-line, five frigates, one packet boat, one brig, one armed lugger and forty-nine transports containing 164 officers and 3,829 enlisted troops. Two days later, the skies clouded and a violent hurricane lashed the armada. The storm lasted five days, sinking one ship and scattering the rest from Campeche to New Orleans and Mobile. Unable to reunite his fleet at sea, a weary and heartsick Galvez returned to Havana a month after his departure.

Much to his disgust, Galvez found that the setback had undermined the courage of the officials in Cuba. They now wanted to cancel the Pensacola campaign. Galvez shamed the junta into supporting a renewed effort with a stirring speech:

"The English, departing for Charleston [South Carolina, on December 26, 1779], encountered weather which scattered their squadron and drove some of the convoy as far as the very coasts of England. This is more or less what happened to us. But the English were not dismayed; they found themselves, reunited, and attacked with happy results as you know. Are we not capable of so much? Has that military virtue that was characteristic of our nation deserted us and passed to the enemy?"

Fine words could not hasten the reassembly of the storm-tossed troops and shipping. Galvez was not ready to set out again until February 14, 1781. The soldiers were promptly ferried out to their transports that day, but two weeks passed before a favourable wind permitted the fleet to leave Havana.

After that, everything seemed to go right for the Spaniards. The expedition sighted Pensacola on March 8. The following night, Galvez slipped silently ashore with a party of elite grenadiers and light infantry at Santa Rosa Island, which sat at the mouth of Pensacola Harbour. Before the British were aware of his presence, Galvez occupied the abandoned fort guarding the entrance to the bay. Failure briefly threatened the governor's enterprise when the Spanish naval commanders refused to take their ships over the treacherous sandbars and past the powerful landward guns blocking the way into the Harbour. Galvez made the professional sailors look foolish on March 18 by conducting his little Louisiana flotilla through the gauntlet and forcing an entrance into Pensacola Harbour without losing a single vessel. To save face, the other Spanish captains had to follow the field marshal's fearless example the next day.

Then Spanish reinforcements seemed to materialise from every imaginable quarter. On March 22, one of Galvez's officers marched into view leading 905 troops from Mobile. A fleet from New Orleans arrived a day later with 1,348 more soldiers. On the twenty-fourth, Galvez abandoned Santa Rosa Island to initiate serious siege operations on the mainland.

General Campbell withdrew his outnumbered Redcoats, Hessians and Loyalists to Fort George, which stood on a slight rise half a mile behind Pensacola. Fort George was protected by two adjacent hilltop posts, the Queen's Redoubt and the Prince of Wales Redoubt. Though he was hemmed in, Campbell did not cower behind his entrenchments.

British troops frequently sortied from their lines to harass advanced detachments of Spanish engineers and sappers. Furthermore, the woods surrounding Galvez's camp were infested with hundreds of pro-British Indians, who repeatedly raided Spanish positions and took many scalps.

Campbell's lunges were annoying, but they were not strong enough to break Galvez's tightening grip on Pensacola. On April 19, 1781, a combined Franco-Spanish fleet from Havana brought Galvez 1,600 Spanish troops and 725 French regulars, while increasing the governor's naval strength to sixteen ships-of-the-line, five frigates and numerous smaller craft. With nearly 9,000 soldiers and seamen facing him on land and another 10,000 sailors crowding him from the sea, Campbell's fate was sealed.

By the end of April, Galvez's trenches were within half a mile of the British works. A formidable battery of 24-pounders was hammering the Queen's Redoubt. On May 8, a Spanish cannonball entered the powder magazine at the Queen's Redoubt. The resulting explosion demolished the heart of Pensacola's defences and blew eighty to 100 Pennsylvania Loyalists into bits.

Quick-thinking Spanish officers immediately occupied the shattered enemy position with some light infantry. They also dragged some howitzers and field-pieces up the newly won hill to rake Fort George, now fully exposed to artillery fire. At 3:00 p.m., Campbell requested a truce. Two days later, he surrendered the 1, 113 survivors of his garrison and all West Florida to Bernardo De Galvez.

The capture of Pensacola marked Spain's proudest moment in the Revolutionary War. It also produced some important lasting effects. Galvez's brilliant campaigns ensured Spanish control over Louisiana. Ejected from the Gulf Coast, Great Britain no longer had much use for East Florida or the trans -Appalachian West. She ceded both regions in 1783, the former to Spain and the latter to the United States.

During the festivities that marked the bicentennial of the American War of Independence, some overly enthusiastic writers portrayed Galvez as an American hero. A hero he certainly was, but first and last, Bernardo De Galvez was a loyal servant of the King of Spain. Galvez aided the American Rebels only because they were fighting his country's ancient enemy. His conquests made the Mississippi a Spanish thoroughfare, allowing Madrid to close the waterway to non-Spanish traffic almost as soon as the Revolutionary War ended.

Ironically, Galvez's triumphs also accelerated the decline and eventual fall of the Spanish Empire in both Florida and Louisiana. By snapping up the English garrisons in West Florida, Galvez shielded Kentucky's southern flank and inadvertently encouraged the migration of thousands of Americans into the lands beyond the Appalachians. It was these tough and acquisitive frontier folk who would reap the legacy sown by the courage and genius of Bernado De Galvez.

( Another interesting article on this Person and Region, thanks Greg, T.D.H. )