of my dominions,' he said to me, 'he has only to give his commands; but I
suppose that he still desires my welfare and my aggrandizement.'  'As for
your aggrandizement, Monseigneur,' said I, 'in truth I do not see much
material for it just at present; as for your welfare, we must be allowed
to see your intentions a little more clearly first, and take the liberty
of repeating to you that my prescience does not extend so far.  I do him
the justice to believe that he really feels the greater part of all that
he expresses for your Majesty; but that horrid habit of indecision and
putting off till to-morrow what he might do to-day is not eradicated, and
never will be.'"

The Duke of Savoy was not so undecided as M. de Tess supposed; he managed
to turn to good account the mystery which hung habitually over all his
resolutions.  A year had not rolled by, and he was openly engaged in the
Grand Alliance, pursuing, against France, the cause of that
aggrandizement which he had but lately hoped to obtain from her, and
which, by the treaty of Utrecht, was worth the title of king to him.

Pending the time to declare himself he had married his second  daughter,
Princess Marie Louise Gabrielle, to the young King of Spain, Philip V.

"Never had the tranquillity of Europe been so unstable as it was at the
commencement of 1702," says the correspondence of Chamillard, published
by General Pelet; "it was but a phantom of peace that was enjoyed, and it
was clear, from whatever side matters were regarded, that we were on the
eve of a war which could not but be of long duration, unless, by some
unforeseen accident, the houses of Bourbon and Austria should come to an
arrangement which would allow them to set themselves in accord touching
the Spanish succession; but there was no appearance of conciliation."

Louis XIV. had just done a deed which destroyed the last faint hopes of
peace.  King James II. was dying at St. Germain, and the king went to see
him.  The sick man opened his eyes for a moment when he was told that the
king was there [_Memoires de Dangeau,_ t. viii.  p. 192], and closed them
again immediately.  The king told him that he had come to assure him that
he might die in peace as regarded the Prince of Wales, and that he would
recognize him as King of England, Ireland, and Scotland.  All the English
who were in the room fell upon their knees, and cried, "God save the
king!"  James II. expired a week later, on the 16th of September, 1701,
saying to his son, as his last advice, "I am about to leave this world,
which has been to me nothing but a sea of tempests and storms.  The
Omnipotent has thought right to visit me with great afflictions; serve
Him with all your heart, and never place the crown of England in the
balance with your eternal salvation."  James II. was justified in giving
his son this supreme advice the solitary ray of greatness in his life and
in his soul had proceeded from his religious faith, and his unwavering
resolution to remain loyal to it at any price and at any risk.

"On returning to Marly," says St. Simon, "the king told the whole court
what he had just done.  There was nothing but acclamations and praises.
It was a fine field for them: but reflections, too, were not less prompt,
if they were less public.  The king still flattered himself that he would
hinder Holland and England, the former of which was so completely
dependent, from breaking with him in favor of the house of Austria; he
relied upon that to terminate before long the war in Italy, as well as
the whole affair of the succession in Spain and its vast dependencies,
which the emperor could not dispute with his own forces only, or even
with those of the empire.  Nothing, therefore, could be more incompatible
with this position, and with the solemn recognition he had given, at the
peace of Ryswick, of the Prince of Orange as King of England.  It was to
hurt him personally in the most sensitive spot, all England with him and
Holland into the bargain, without giving the Prince of Wales, by
recognition, any solid support in his own case."

[Illustration: News for William III.----481]

William III. was at table in his castle of Dieren, in Holland, when he
received this news.  He did not utter a word, but he colored, crushed his
hat over his head, and could not command his countenance.  The Earl of
Manchester, English ambassador, left Paris without taking leave of the
king, otherwise than by this note to M. de Torcy:--

"Sir:  The king my master, being informed that his Most Christian.
Majesty has recognized another King of Great Britain, does not consider
that his dignity and his service will permit him to any longer keep an
ambassador at the court of the king your master, and he has sent me
orders to withdraw at once, of which I do myself the honor to advertise
you by this note."

"All the English," says Torcy, in his Memoires, "unanimously regard it
as a mortal affront on the part of France, that she should pretend to
arrogate to herself the right of giving them a king, to the prejudice of
him whom they had themselves invited and recognized for many years past."

Voltaire declares, in the "Siecle de Louis XIV.,_ that M. de Torcy
attributed the recognition of the Prince of Wales by Louis XIV. to the
influence of Madame de Maintenon, who was touched by the tears of the
queen, Mary of Modena.  "He had not," he said, "inserted the fact in his
Memoires, because he did not think it to his master's honor that two
women should have made him change a resolution to the contrary taken in
his council."  Perhaps the deplorable state of William III.'s health, and
the inclination supposed to be felt by Princess Anne of Denmark to
restore the Stuarts to the throne, since she herself had lost the Duke of
Gloucester, the last survivor of her seventeen children, might have
influenced the unfortunate resolution of Louis XIV.  His kingly
magnanimity and illusions might have bound him to support James II.,
dethroned and fugitive; but no obligation of that sort existed in the
case of a prince who had left England at his nurse's, breast, and who had
grown up in exile.  In the _Athalie_ of Racine, Joad (Jehoiada) invokes
upon the impious queen:

"That spirit of infatuation and error
The fatal avant-courier of the fall of kings."

The recognition of the Prince of Wales as King of England was, in the
case of Louis XIV., the most indisputable token of that fatal blindness.

William III. had paid dear for the honor of being called to the throne
of England.  More than once he had been on the point of abandonhig the
ungrateful nation which so ill requited his great services; he had
thought of returning to live in the midst of his Hollanders,
affectionately attached to his family as well as to his person.  The
insult of the King of France restored to his already dying adversary all
the popularity he had lost.  When William returned from Holland to open a
new Parliament, on the 10th of January, 1702, manifestations of sympathy
were lavished upon him on all sides of the house.  "I have no doubt,"
said he, "that the late proceedings of his Most Christian Majesty and the
dangers which threaten all the powers of Europe have excited your most
lively resentment.  All the world have their eyes fixed upon England;
there is still time, she may save her religion and her liberty, but let
her profit by every moment, let her arm by land and sea, let her lend her
allies all the assistance in her power, and swear to show her enemies,
the foes of her religion, her liberty, her government, and the king of
her choice, all the hatred they deserve."

This speech, more impassioned than the utterances of William III.
generally were, met with an eager echo from his people; the houses voted
a levy of forty thousand sailors and fifty thousand soldiers; Holland had
promised ninety thousand men; but the health of the King of England went
on declining; he had fallen from his horse on the 4th of March, and
broken his collarbone; this accident hastened the progress of the malady
which was pulling him down; when his friend Keppel, whom he had made Earl
of Albemarle, returned, on the 18th of March, from Holland, William
received him with these words: "I am drawing towards my end."

He had received the consolations of religion from the bishops, and had
communicated with great self-possession; he scarcely spoke now, and
breathed with difficulty.  "Can this last long?" he asked the physician,
who made a sign in the negative.  He had sent for the Earl of Portland,
Bentinek, his oldest and most faithful friend; when he arrived, the king
took his hand and held it between both his own, upon his heart.  Thus he
remained for a few moments; then he yielded up his great spirit to God,
on the 19th (8th) of March, 1702, at eight in the morning.  He was not
yet fifty-two.

In a greater degree perhaps than any other period, the eighteenth century
was rich in men of the first order.  But never did more of the spirit of
policy, never did loftier and broader views, never did steadier courage
animate and sustain a weaker body than in the case of William of Orange.
Savior of Holland at the age of twenty-two in the war against Louis XIV.,
protector of the liberties of England against the tyranny of James II.,
defender of the independence of the European states against the unbridled
ambition of the King of France, he became the head of Europe by the
proper and free ascendency of his genius; cold and reserved, more capable
of feeling than of testifying sympathy, often ill, always unfortunate in
war, he managed to make his will triumph, in England despite Jacobite
plots and the jealous suspicions of the English Parliaments, in Holland
despite the constant efforts of the republican and aristocratic party,
in Europe despite envy and the waverings of the allied sovereigns.
Intrepid, spite of his bad health, to the extent of being ready, if need
were, to die in the last ditch, of indomitable obstinacy in his
resolutions, and of rare ability in the manipulation of affairs, he was
one of those who are born masters of men, no matter what may at the
outset be their condition and their destiny.  In vain had Cromwell
required of Holland the abolition of the stadtholderate in the house of
Nassau, in vain had John van Witt obtained the voting of the perpetual
edict, William of Orange lived and died stadtholder of Holland and king
of that England which had wanted to close against him forever the
approaches to the throne in his own native countiy.  When God has created
a man to play a part and hold a place in this world, all efforts and all
counsels to the contrary are but so many stalks of straw under his feet.
William of Orange at his death had accomplished his work: Europe had
risen against Louis XIV.

The campaigns of 1702 and 1703 presented an alternation of successes and
reverses favorable, on the whole, to France.  Marshal Villeroi had failed
in Italy against Prince Eugene.  He was superseded by the Duke of
Vendome, grandson of Henry IV. and captor of Barcelona, indolent,
debauched, free in tone and in conduct, but able, bold, beloved by the
soldiers, and strongly supported at court.  Catinat had returned to
France, and went to Versailles at the commencement of the year 1702.
"M. de Chamillard had told him the day before, from the king, that his
Majesty had resolved to give him the command of the army in Germany; he
excused himself for some time from accepting this employment; the king
ended by saying, 'Now we are in a position for you to explain to me, and
open your heart about all that took place in Italy during the last
campaign.'  The marshal answered, 'Sir, those things are all past; the
details I could give you thereof would be of no good to the service of
your Majesty, and would serve merely, perhaps, to keep up eternal
heart-burnings; and so I entreat you to be pleased to let me preserve a
profound silence as to all that.  I will only justify myself, sir, by
thinking how I may serve you still better, if I can, in Germany than I
did in Italy.'"  Worn out and disgusted, Catinat failed in Germany as he
had in Italy; he took his retirement, and never left his castle of St.
Gratien any more: it was the Marquis of Villars, lately ambassador at
Vienna, who defeated the imperialists at Friedlingen, on the 14th of
August, 1702; a month later Tallard retook the town of Landau.  The
perfidious manoeuvres of the Duke of Savoy had just come to light.  The
king ordered Vendome to disarm the five thousand Piedmontese who were
serving in his army.  That operation effected, the prince sent Victor-
Amadeo this note, written by Louis XIV.'s own hand:--

"Sir:  As religion, honor, and your own signature count for nothing
between us, I send my cousin, the Duke of Vendome, to, explain to you my
wishes.  He will give you twenty-four hours to decide."

The mind of the Duke of Savoy was made up, from this day forth the father
of the Duchess of Burgundy and of the Queen of Spain took rank amongst
the declared enemies of France and Spain.

Whilst Louis XIV. was facing Europe, in coalition against him, with
generals of the second and third order, the allies were discovering in
the Duke of Marlborough a worthy rival of Prince Eugene.  A covetous and
able courtier, openly disgraced by William III. in consequence of his
perfidious intrigues with the court of St. Germain, he had found his
fortunes suddenly retrieved by the accession of Queen Anne, over whom his
wife had for a long time held the sway of a haughty and powerful
favorite.  The campaigns of 1702 and 1703 had shown him to be a prudent
and a bold soldier, fertile in resources and novel conceptions; and those
had earned him the thanks of Parliament and the title of duke.  The
campaign of 1704 established his glory upon the misfortunes of France.
Marshals Tallard and Marsin were commanding in Germany together with the
Elector of Bavaria; the emperor, threatened with a fresh insurrection in
Hungary, recalled Prince Eugene from Italy; Marlborough effected a
junction with him by a rapid march, which Marshal Villeroi would fain
have hindered, but to no purpose; on the 13th of August, 1704, the
hostile armies met between Blenheim and Hochstett, near the Danube; the
forces were about equal, but on the French side the counsels were
divided, the various corps acted independently.  Tallard sustained
single-handed the attack of the English and the Dutch, commanded by
Marlborough; he was made prisoner, his son was killed at his side; the
cavalry, having lost their leader and being pressed by the enemy, took to
flight in the direction of the Danube; many officers and soldiers
perished in the river; the slaughter was awful.  Marsin and the elector,
who had repulsed five successive charges of Prince Eugene, succeeded in
effecting their retreat; but the electorates of Bavaria and Cologne were
lost, Landau was recovered by the allies after a siege of two months, the
French army recrossed the Rhine, Elsass was uncovered, and Germany
evacuated.  In Spain the English had just made themselves masters of
Gibraltar.  "This shows clearly, sir," wrote Tallard to Chamillard after
the defeat, "what is the effect of such diversity of counsel, which makes
public all that one intends to do, and it is a severe lesson never to
have more than one man at the head of an army.  It is a great misfortune
to have to deal with a prince of such a temper as the Elector of
Bavaria."  Villars was of the same opinion; it had been his fate, in the
campaign of 1703, to come to open loggerheads with the elector.  "The
king's army will march to-morrow, as I have had the honor to tell your
Highness," he had declared.  "At these words," says Villars, the blood
mounted to his face; he threw his hat and wig on the table in a rage.
'I commanded,' said he, 'the emperor's army in conjunction with the Duke
of Lorraine; he was a tolerably great general, and he never treated me in
this manner.'  'The Duke of Lorraine,' answered I, 'was a great prince
and a great general; but, for myself, I am responsible to the king for
his army, and I will not expose it to destruction through the evil
counsels so obstinately persisted in.'  Thereupon I went out of the
room."  Complete swaggerer as he was, Villars had more wits and
resolution than the majority of the generals left to Louis XIV., but in
1704 he was occupied in putting down the insurrection of the Camisards in
the south of France: neither Tallard nor Marsin had been able to impose
their will upon the elector.  In 1705 Villars succeeded in checking the
movement of Marlborough on Lothringen and Champagne.  "He flattered
himself he would swallow me like a grain of salt," wrote the marshal.
The English fell back, hampered in their adventurous plans by the
prudence of the Hollanders, controlled from a distance by the grand
pensionary Heinsius.  The imperialists were threatening Elsass; the
weather was fearful; letters had been written to Chamillard to say that
the inundations alone would be enough to prevent the enemy from investing
Fort Louis.  "There is nothing so nice as a map," replied Villars; "with
a little green and blue one puts under water all that one wishes but a
general who goes and examines it, as I have done, finds in divers places
distances of a mile where these little rivers, which are supposed to
inundate the country, are quite snug in their natural bed, larger than
usual, but not enough to hinder the enemy in any way in the world from
making bridges."  Fort Louis was surrounded, and Villars found himself
obliged to retire upon Strasburg, whence he protected Elsass during the
whole campaign of 1706.

The defeat of Hochstett, in 1704, had been the first step down the
ladder; the defeat of Ramillies, on the 23d of May, 1706, was the second
and the fatal rung.  The king's personal attachment to Marshal Villeroi
blinded him as to his military talents.  Beaten in Italy by Prince
Eugene, Villeroi, as presumptuous as he was incapable, hoped to retrieve
himself against Marlborough.  "The whole army breathed nothing but
battle; I know it was your Majesty's own feeling," wrote Villeroi to the
king, after the defeat: "could I help committing myself to a course which
I considered expedient?"  The marshal had deceived himself as regarded
his advantages, as well as the confidence of his troops; there had been
eight hours' fighting at Hochstett, inflicting much damage upon the
enemy; at Ramillies, the Bavarians took to their heels at the end of an
hour; the French, who felt that they were badly commanded, followed their
example; the rout was terrible, and the disorder inexpressible.  Villeroi
kept recoiling before the enemy, Marlborough kept advancing; two thirds
of Belgium and sixteen strong places were lost, when Louis XIV. sent
Chamillard into the Low Countries; it was no longer the time when Louvois
made armies spring from the very soil, and when Vauban prepared the
defence of Dunkerque.  The king recalled Villeroi, showing him to the
last unwavering kindness.  "There is no more luck at our age, marshal,"
was all he said to Villeroi, on his arrival at Versailles.  "He was
nothing more than an old wrinkled balloon, out of which all the gas that
inflated it has gone," says St.  Simon: "he went off to Paris and to
Villeroi, having lost all the varnish that made him glitter, and having
nothing more to show but the under-stratum."

The king summoned Vendome, to place him at the head of the army of
Flanders, "in hopes of restoring to it the spirit of vigor and audacity
natural to the French nation," as he himself says.  For two years past,
amidst a great deal of ill-success, Vendome had managed to keep in check
Victor-Amadeo and Prince Eugene, in spite of the embarrassment caused him
by his brother the grand prior, the Duke of La Feuillade, Chamillard's
son-in-law, and the orders which reached him directly from the king; he
had gained during his two campaigns the name of taker of towns, and had
just beaten the Austrians in the battle of Cascinato.  Prince Eugene had,
however, crossed the Adige and the Po when Vendome left Italy.

"Everybody here is ready to take off his hat when Marlborough's name is
mentioned," he wrote to Chamillard, on arriving in Flanders.  The English
and Dutch army occupied all the country from Ostend to Maestricht.

The Duke of Orleans, nephew of the king, had succeeded the Duke of
Vendome.  He found the army in great disorder, the generals divided and
insubordinate, Turin besieged according to the plans of La Feuillade,
against the advice of Vauban, who had offered "to put his marshal's baton
behind the door, and confine himself to giving his counsels for the
direction of the siege;" the prince, in his irritation, resigned his
powers into the hands of Marshal Marsin; Prince Eugene, who had effected
his junction with Victor-Amadeo, encountered the French army between the
Rivers Doria and Stora.  The soldiers remembered the Duke of Orleans at
Steinkirk and Neerwinden; they asked him if he would grudge them his
sword.  He yielded, and was severely wounded at the battle of Turin, on
the 7th of September, 1706; Marsin was killed, discouragement spread
amongst the generals and the troops, and the siege of Turin was raised;
before the end of the year, nearly all the places were lost, and Dauphiny
was threatened.  Victor-Amadeo refused to listen to a special peace: in
the month of March, 1707, the Prince of Vaudemont, governor of Milaness
for the King of Spain, signed a capitulation, at Mantua, and led back to
France the troops which still remained to him.  The imperialists were
masters of Naples.  Spain no longer had any possessions in Italy.

Philip V. had been threatened with the loss of Spain as well as of Italy.
For two years past Archduke Charles, under the title of Charles III.,
had, with the support of England and Portugal, been disputing the crown
with the young king.  Philip V. had lost Catalonia, and had just failed
in his attempt to retake Barcelona; the road to Madrid was cut off, the
army was obliged to make its way by Roussillon and Warn to resume the
campaign; the king threw himself in person into his capital, whither he
was escorted by Marshal Berwick, a natural son of James II., a Frenchman
by choice, full of courage and resolution, "but a great stick of an
Englishman, who hadn't a word to say," and who was distasteful to the
young queen, Marie-Louise.  Philip V. could not remain at Madrid, which
was threatened by the enemy: he removed to Burgos; the English entered
the capital, and there proclaimed Charles III.

This was too, much; Spain could not let herself submit to have an
Austrian king imposed upon her by heretics and Portuguese; the old
military energy appeared again amongst that people besotted by priests
and ceremonials; war broke out all at once at every point; the foreign
soldiers were everywhere attacked openly or secretly murdered; the towns
rose; a few horsemen sufficed for Berwick to recover possession of
Madrid; the king entered it once more, on the 4th of October, amidst the
cheers of his people, whilst Berwick was pursuing the enemy, whom he had
cornered (_rencogne_), he says, in the mountains of Valencia.  Charles
III. had no longer anything left in Spain but Aragon and Catalonia.  The
French garrisons, set free by the evacuation of Italy, went to the aid of
the Spaniards.  "Your enemies ought not to hope for success," wrote Louis
XIV. to his grandson, "since their progress has served only to bring out
the courage and fidelity of a nation always equally brave and firmly
attached to its masters.  I am told that your people cannot be
distinguished from regular troops.  We have not been fortunate in
Flanders, but we must submit to the judgment of God."  He had already let
his grandson understand that a great sacrifice would be necessary to
obtain peace, which he considered himself bound to procure before long
for his people.  The Hollanders refused their mediation.  "The three men
who rule in Europe, to wit, the grand pensionary Heinsius, the Duke of
Marlborough, and Prince Eugene, desire war for their own interests," was
the saying in France.  The campaign of 1707 was signalized in Spain by
the victory of Almanza, gained on the 13th of April by Marshal Berwick
over the Anglo-Portuguese army, and by the capture of Lerida, which
capitulated on the 11th of November into the hands of the Duke of
Orleans.  In Germany, Villars drove back the enemy from the banks of the
Rhine, advanced into Suabia, and ravaged the Palatinate, crushing the
country with requisitions, of which he openly reserved a portion for
himself.  "Marshal Villars is doing very well for himself," said
somebody, one day, to the king.  "Yes," answered his Majesty, "and for me
too."  "I wrote to the king that I really must fat my calf," said
Villars.

The inexhaustible elasticity and marvellous resources of France were
enough to restore some hope in 1707.  The invasion of Provence by Victor-
Amadeo and Prince Eugene, their check before Toulon, and their retreat,
precipitated by the rising of the peasants, had irritated the allies; the
attempts at negotiation which the king had entered upon at the Hague
remained without result; the Duke of Burgundy took the command of the
armies of Flanders, with Vendome for his second; it was hoped that the
lieutenant's boldness, his geniality towards the troops, and his
consummate knowledge of war, would counterbalance the excessive gravity,
austerity, and inexperience of the young prince so virtuous and capable,
but reserved, cold, and unaccustomed to command; discord arose amongst
the courtiers; on the 5th of July Ghent was surprised; Vendome had
intelligence inside the place, the Belgians were weary of their new
masters.  "The States have dealt so badly with this country," said
Marlborough, "that all the towns are ready to play us the same trick as
Ghent, the moment they have the opportunity."  Bruges opened its gates to
the French.  Prince Eugene advanced to second Marlborough, but he was
late in starting; the troops of the Elector of Bavaria harassed his
march.  "I shouldn't like to say a word against Prince Eugene," said
Marlborough, "but he will arrive at the appointed spot on the Moselle ten
days too late."  The English were by themselves when they encountered the
French army in front of Audernarde.  The engagement began.  Vendome, who
commanded the right wing, sent word to the Duke of Burgundy.  The latter
hesitated and delayed; the generals about him did not approve of
Vendome's movement.  He fought single-handed, and was beaten.  The excess
of confidence of one leader, and the inertness of the other, caused
failure in all the operations of the campaign; Prince Eugene and the Duke
of Marlborough laid siege to Lille, which was defended by old Marshal
Boufflers, the bravest and the most respected of all the king's servants.
Lille was not relieved, and fell on the 25th of October; the citadel held
out until the 9th of December; the king heaped rewards on Marshal
Bouffers: at the march out from Lille, Prince Eugene had ordered all his
army to pay him the same honors as to himself.  Ghent and Bruges were
abandoned to the imperialists.  "We had made blunder upon blunder in this
campaign," says Marshal Berwick, in his Memoires, "and, in spite of all
that if somebody had not made the last in giving up Ghent and Bruges,
there would have been a fine game the year after."  The Low Countries
were lost, and the French frontier was encroached upon by the capture of
Lille.  For the first time, in a letter addressed to Marshal Berwick,
Marlborough let a glimpse be seen of a desire to make peace; the king
still hoped for the mediation of Holland, and he neglected the overtures
of Marlborough: "the army of the allies is, without doubt, in evil
plight," said Chamillard.

The campaign in Spain had not been successful; the Duke of Orleans, weary
of his powerlessness, and under suspicion at the court of Philip V., had
given up the command of the troops; the English admiral, Leake, had taken
possession of Sardinia, of the Island of Minorca, and of Port Mahon; the
archduke was master of the isles and of the sea.  The destitution in
France was fearful, and the winter so severe that the poor were in want
of everything; riots multiplied in the towns; the king sent his plate to
the mint, and put his jewels in pawn; he likewise took a resolution which
cost him even more; he determined to ask for peace.

"Although his courage appeared at every trial," says the Marquis of
Torcy, "he felt within him just sorrow for a war whereof the weight
overwhelmed his subjects.  More concerned for their woes than for his own
glory, he employed, to terminate them, means which might have induced
France to submit to the hardest conditions before obtaining a peace that
had become necessary, if God, protecting the king, had not, after
humiliating him, struck his foes with blindness."

There are regions to which superior minds alone ascend, and which are not
attained by the men, however distinguished, who succeed them.  William
III. was no longer at the head of affairs in Europe; and the triumvirate
of Heinsius, Marlborough, and Prince Eugene did not view the aggregate of
things from a sufficiently calm height to free themselves from the
hatreds and, bitternesses of the strife, when the proposals of Louis XIV.
arrived at the Hague.  "Amidst the sufferings caused to commerce by the
war, there was room to hope," says Torcy, "that the grand pensionary,
thinking chiefly of his country's interest, would desire the end of a war
of which he felt all the burdensomeness.  Clothed with authority in his
own republic, he had no reason to fear either secret design or cabals to
displace him from a post which he filled to the satisfaction of his
masters, and in which he conducted himself with moderation.  Up to that
time the United Provinces had borne the principal burden of the war.  The
emperor alone reaped the fruit of it.  One would have said that the
Hollanders kept the temple of peace, and that they had the keys of it in
their hands."

The king offered the Hollanders a very extended barrier in the Low
Countries, and all the facilities they had long been asking for their
commerce.  He accepted the abandonment of Spain to the archduke, and
merely claimed to reserve to his grandson Naples, Sardinia, and Sicily.
This was what was secured to him by the second treaty of partition lately
concluded between England, tine United Provinces, and France; he did not
even demand Lothringen.  President Rouille, formerly French envoy to
Lisbon, arrived disguised in Holland; conferences were opened secretly at
Bodegraven.

The treaties of partition negotiated by William of Orange, as well as
the wars which he had sustained against Louis XIV. with such persistent
obstinacy, had but one sole end, the maintenance of the European
equilibrium between the houses of Bourbon and Austria, which were alone
powerful enough to serve as mutual counterpoise.  To despoil one to the
profit of the other, to throw, all at once, into the balance on the side
of the empire all the weight of the Spanish succession, was to destroy
the work of William III.'s far-sighted wisdom.  Heinsius did not see it;
but led on by his fidelity to the allies, distrustful and suspicious as
regarded France, burning to avenge the wrongs put upon the republic, he,
in concert with Marlborough and Prince Eugene, required conditions so
hard that the French agent scarcely dared transmit them to Versailles.
What was demanded was the abdication, pure and simple, of Philip V.:
Holland merely promised her good offices to obtain in his favor Naples
and Sicily; England claimed Dunkerque; Germany wanted Strasburg and the
renewal of the peace of Westphalia; Victor-Amadeo aspired to recover Nice
and Savoy; to the Dutch barrier stipulated for at Ryswick were to be
added Lille, Conde, and Tournay.  In vain was the matter discussed
article by article; Rouille for some time believed that he had gained
Lille.  "You misinterpreted our intentions," said the deputies of the
States General; "we let you believe what you pleased; at the commencement
of April.  Lille was still in a bad condition; we had reason to fear that
the French had a design of taking advantage of that; it was a matter of
prudence to let you believe that it would be restored to you by the
peace.  Lille is at the present moment in a state of security; do not
count any longer on its restitution."  "Probably," said the States'
delegate to Marlborough, "the king will break off negotiations rather
than entertain such hard conditions."  "So much the worse for France,"
rejoined the English general; "for when the campaign is once begun,
things will go farther than the king thinks.  The allies will never unsay
their preliminary demands."  And he set out for England without even
waiting for a favorable wind to cross.

Louis XIV. assembled his council, the same which, in 1700, had decided
upon acceptance of the crown of Spain.  "The king felt all these
calamities so much the more keenly," says Torcy, "in that he had
experienced nothing of the sort ever since he had taken into his own
hands the government of a flourishing kingdom.  It was a terrible
humiliation for a monarch accustomed to conquer, belauded for his
victories, his triumphs, his moderation when he granted peace and
prescribed its laws, to see himself now obliged to ask it of his enemies,
to offer them to no purpose, in order to obtain it, the restitution of a
portion of his conquests, the monarchy of Spain, the abandonment of his
allies, and forced, in order to get such offers accepted, to apply to
that same republic whose principal provinces he had conquered in the year
1692, and whose submission he had rejected when she entreated him to
grant her peace on such terms as he should be pleased to dictate.  The
king bore so sensible a change with the firmness of a hero, and with a
Christian's complete submission to the decrees of Providence, being less
affected by his own inward pangs than by the suffering of his people, and
being ever concerned about the means of relieving it, and terminating the
war.  It was scarcely perceived that he did himself some violence in
order to conceal his own feelings from the public; indeed; they were so
little known that it was pretty generally believed that, thinking more of
his own glory than of the woes of his kingdom, he preferred to the
blessing of peace the keeping of certain places he had taken in person.
This unjust opinion had crept in even amongst the council."

The reading of the Dutch proposals tore away every veil; "the necessity
of obtaining peace, whatever price it might cost, was felt so much the
more."  The king gave orders to Rouille to resume the conferences,
demanding clear and precise explanations.  "If the worst comes to the
worst," said he, "I will give up Lille to the Hollanders, Strasburg
dismantled to the Empire, and I will content myself with Naples without
Sicily for my grandson.  You will be astounded at the orders contained in
this despatch, so different from those that I have given you hitherto,
and that I considered, as it was, too liberal, but I have always
submitted to the divine will, and the evils with which He is pleased to
afflict my kingdom do not permit me any longer to doubt of the sacrifice
He requires me to make to Him of all that might touch me most nearly.  I
waive, therefore, my glory."  The Marquis of Torcy, secretary of state
for foreign affairs, followed close after the despatch; he had offered
the king to go and treat personally with Heinsius.

"The grand pensionary appeared surprised when he heard that his Majesty
was sending one of his ministers to Holland.  He had been placed at that
post by the Prince of Orange, who put entire confidence in him.  Heinsius
had not long before been sent to France to confer with Louvois, and, in
the discharge of that commission, he had experienced the bad temper of a
minister more accustomed to speak harshly to military officers than to
treat with foreigners; he had not forgotten that the minister had
threatened to have him put in the Bastille.  Consummate master of
affairs, of which he had a long experience, he was the soul of the league
with Prince Eugene and the Duke of Marlborough; but the pensionary was
not accused either of being so much in love with the importance given him
by continuance of the war as to desire its prolongation or of any
personally interested view.  His externals were simple, there was no
ostentation in his household; his address was cold without any sort of
rudeness, his conversation was polished, he rarely grew warm in
discussion."  Torcy could not obtain anything from Heinsius, any more
than from Marlborough and Prince Eugene, who had both arrived at the
Hague: the prince remained cold and stern; he had not forgotten the
king's behavior towards his house.  "That's a splendid post in France,
that of colonel general," said he one day; "my father held it; at his
death we hoped that my brother might get it; the king thought it better
to give it to one of his, natural sons.  He is master, but all the same
is one not sorry sometimes to find one's self in a position to make
slights repented of."  "Marlborough displayed courtesy, insisting upon
seeing in the affairs of the coalition the finger of God, who had
permitted eight nations to think and act like one man."  The concessions
extorted from France were no longer sufficient: M. de Torcy gave up
Sicily, and then Naples; a demand was made for Elsass, and certain places
in Dauphiny and Provence; lastly, the allies required that the conditions
of peace should be carried out at short notice, during the two months'
truce it was agreed to grant, and that Louis XIV. should forthwith put
into the hands of the Hollanders three places by way of guarantee, in
case Philip V. should refuse to abdicate.  This was to despoil himself
prematurely and gratuitously, for it was impossible to execute the
definitive treaty of peace at the time fixed.  "The king did not hesitate
about the only course there was for him to take, not only for his own
glory, but for the welfare of his kingdom," says Torcy; he recalled his
envoys, and wrote to the governors of the provinces and towns,--

"Sir:  The hope of an imminent peace was so generally diffused throughout
my kingdom, that I consider it due to the fidelity which my people have
shown during the course of my reign to give them the consolation of
informing them of the reasons which still prevent them from enjoying the
repose I had intended to procure for them.  I would, to restore it, have
accepted conditions much opposed to the security of my frontier
provinces; but the more readiness and desire I displayed to dissipate the
suspicions which my enemies affect to retain of my power and my designs,
the more did they multiply their pretensions, refusing to enter into any
undertaking beyond putting a stop to all acts of hostility until the
first of the month of August, reserving to themselves the liberty of then
acting by way of arms if the King of Spain, my grandson, persisted in his
resolution to defend the crown which God has given him; such a suspension
was more dangerous than war for my people, for it secured to the enemy
more important advantages than they could hope for from their troops.  As
I place my trust in the protection of God, and hope that the purity of my
intentions will bring down His blessing on my arms, I wish my people to
know that they would enjoy peace if it had depended only on my will to
procure them a boon which they reasonably, desire, but which must be won
by fresh efforts, since the immense conditions I would have granted are
useless for the restoration of the public peace.

"Signed:  Louis."


In spite of all the mistakes due to his past arrogance, the king had a
right to make use of such language.  In their short-sighted resentment
the allies had overstepped reason.  The young King of Spain felt this
when he wrote to his grandfather, "I am transfixed at the chimerical and
insolent pretensions of the English and Dutch regarding the preliminaries
of peace; never were seen the like.  I am beside myself at the idea that
anybody could have so much as supposed that I should be forced to leave
Spain as long as I have a drop of blood in my veins.  I will use all my
efforts to maintain myself upon a throne on which God has placed me, and
on which you, after Him, have set me, and nothing but death shall wrench
me from it or make me yield it."  War re-commenced on all sides.  The
king had just consented at last to give Chamillard his discharge.  "Sir,
I shall die over the job," had for a long time been the complaint of the
minister worn out with fatigue.  "Ah!  well, we will die together," had
been the king's rejoinder.

France was dying, and Chamillard was by no means a stranger to the cause.
Louis XIV. put in his place Voysin, former superintendent of Hainault,
entirely devoted to Madame de Maintenon.  He loaded with benefits the
minister from whom he was parting, the only one whom he had really loved.
The troops were destitute of everything.  On assuming the command of the
army of the Low Countries, Villars wrote in despair, "Imagine the horror
of seeing an army without bread!  There was none delivered to-day until
the evening, and very late.  Yesterday, to have bread to serve out to the
brigades I had ordered to march, I made those fast that remained behind.
On these occasions I pass along the ranks, I coax the soldier, I speak to
him in such a way as to make him have patience, and I have had the
consolation of hearing several of them say, 'The marshal is quite right;
we must suffer sometimes.'  '_Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie_'
(give us this day our daily bread), the men say to me as I go through the
ranks; it is a miracle how we subsist, and it is a marvel to see the
steadiness and fortitude of the soldier in enduring hunger; habit is
everything; I fancy, however, that the habit of not eating is not easy
to acquire."

In spite of such privations and sufferings, Villars found the army in
excellent spirits, and urged the king to permit him to give battle.
"M. de Turenne used to say that he who means to altogether avoid battle
gives up his country to him who appears to seek it," the marshal assured
him; the king was afraid of losing his last army; the Dukes of Harcourt
and Berwick were covering the Rhine and the Alps; Marlborough and Prince
Eugene, who had just made themselves masters of Tournay, marched against
Villars, whom they encountered on the 11th of September, 1709, near the
hamlet of Malplaquet.  Marshal Boufflers had just reached the army to
serve as a volunteer.  Villars had intrenched himself in front of the
woods; his men were so anxious to get under fire, that they threw away
the rations of bread just served out; the allies looked sulkily at the
works.  "We are going to fight moles again," they said.

There was a thick fog, as at Lutzen; the fighting went on from seven in
the morning till midday.  Villars had yielded the right wing, by way of
respect, to Bouffiers as his senior, says the allies' account, but the
general command nevertheless devolved entirely upon him.  "At the hottest
of the engagement, the marshal galloped furiously to the centre attacked
by Prince Eugene.  It was a sort of jaws of hell, a pit of fire, sulphur,
and saltpetre, which it seemed impossible to approach and live.  One shot
and my horse fell," says Villars.  "I jumped up, and a second broke my
knee; I had it bandaged on the spot, and myself placed in a chair to
continue giving my orders, but the pain caused a fainting-fit which
lasted long enough for me to be carried off without consciousness to
Quesnoy."  The Prince of Hesse, with the imperial cavalry, had just
turned the intrenchments, which the Dutch infantry had attacked to no
purpose; Marshal Boufflers was obliged to order a retreat, which was
executed as on parade.  "The allies had lost more than twenty thousand
men," according to their official account.  "It was too much for this
victory, which did not entail the advantage of entirely defeating the
enemy, and the whole fruits of which were to end with the taking of
Mons."  Always a braggart, in spite of his real courage and indisputable
military talent, Villars wrote from his bed to the king, on sending him
the flags taken from the enemy, "If God give us grace to lose such
another battle, your Majesty may reckon that your enemies are
annihilated."  Boufflers was more proud, and at the same time more
modest, when he said, "The series of disasters that have for some years
past befallen your Majesty's arms, had so humiliated the French nation
that one scarcer dared avow one's self a Frenchman.  I dare assure you,
sir, that the French name was never in so great esteem, and was never
perhaps more feared, than it is at present in the army of the allies."

[Illustration: Bivouac of Louis XIV.----503]

Louis XIV. was no longer in a position to delude himself, and to
celebrate a defeat, even a glorious one, as a victory.  Negotiations
recommenced.  Heinsius had held to his last proposals.  It was on this
sorry basis that Marshal d'Huxelles and Abbe de Polignac began the
parleys, at Gertruydenberg, a small fortress of Mardyk.  They lasted from
March 9 to July 25, 1710; the king consented to give some fortresses as
guarantee, and promised to recommend his grandson to abdicate; in case of
refusal, he engaged not only to support him no longer, but to furnish the
allies, into the bargain, with a monthly subsidy of a million, whilst
granting a passage through French territory; he accepted the cession of
Elsass to Lothringen, the return of the three bishoprics to the empire;
the, Hollanders, commissioned to negotiate in the name of the coalition,
were not yet satisfied.  "The desire of the allies," they said, "is, that
the king should undertake, himself alone and by his own forces, either to
persuade or to oblige the King of Spain to give up all his monarchy.
Neither money nor the co-operation of the French troops suit their
purpose; if the preliminary articles be not complied with in the space of
two months, the truce is broken off, war will recommence, even though on
the part of the king the other conditions should have been wholly
fulfilled.  The sole means of obtaining peace is to receive from the
king's hands Spain and the Indies."

The French plenipotentiaries had been recommended to have patience.
Marshal d'Huxelles was a courtier as smooth as he was clever; Abbe de
Polignac was shrewd and supple, yet he could not contain his indignation.
"It is evident that you have not been accustomed to conquer!" said he
haughtily to the Dutch delegates.  When the allies' ultimatum reached the
king, the pride of the sovereign and the affection of the father rose up
at last in revolt.  "Since war there must be," said he, "I would rather
wage it against my enemies than against my grandson;" and he withdrew all
the concessions which had reduced Philip V. to despair.  The allies had
already invaded Artois; at the end of the campaign they were masters of
Douai, St. Venant, Bethune, and Aire; France was threatened everywhere,
the king could no longer protect the King of Spain; he confined himself
to sending him Vendome.  Philip V., sustained by the indomitable courage
of his young wife, refused absolutely to abdicate.  "Whatever misfortunes
may await me," he wrote to the king, "I still prefer the course of
submission to whatever it may please God to decide for me by fighting to
that of deciding for myself by consenting to an arrangement which would
force me to abandon the people on whom my reverses have hitherto produced
no other effect than to increase their zeal and affection for me."

It was, therefore, with none but the forces of Spain that Philip V., at
the outset of the campaign of 1710, found himself confronting the English
and Portuguese armies.  The Emperor Joseph, brother of Archduke Charles,
had sent him a body of troops commanded by a distinguished general, Count
von Stahrenberg.  Going from defeat to defeat, the young king found
himself forced, as in 1706, to abandon his capital; he removed the seat
of government to Valladolid, and departed, accompanied by more than
thirty thousand persons of every rank, resolved to share his fortunes.
The archduke entered Madrid.  "I have orders from Queen Anne and the
allies to escort King Charles to Madrid," said the English general, Lord
Stanhope; when he is once there, God or the devil keep him in or turn him
out; it matters little to me; that is no affair of mine."

Stanhope was in the right not to pledge himself; the hostility of the
population of Madrid did not permit the archduke to reside there long;
after running the risk of being carried off in his palace on the Prado,
he removed to Toledo; Vendome blocked the road against the Portuguese;