The History of England from the Accession of James II, Vol. 4

T >> Thomas Babington Macaulay >> The History of England from the Accession of James II, Vol. 4

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To keep the German princes steady was no easy task; but it was
accomplished. Money was distributed among them, much less indeed
than they asked, but much more than they had any decent pretence
for asking. With the Elector of Saxony a composition was made. He
had, together with a strong appetite for subsidies, a great
desire to be a member of the most select and illustrious orders
of knighthood. It seems that, instead of the four hundred
thousand rixdollars which he had demanded, he consented to accept
one hundred thousand and the Garter.296 His prime minister
Schoening, the most covetous and perfidious of mankind, was
secured by a pension.297 For the Duke of Brunswick Lunenburg,
William, not without difficulty, procured the long desired title
of Elector of Hanover. By such means as these the breaches which
had divided the coalition were so skilfully repaired that it
appeared still to present a firm front to the enemy. William had
complained bitterly to the Spanish government of the incapacity
and inertness of Gastanaga. The Spanish government, helpless and
drowsy as it was, could not be altogether insensible to the
dangers which threatened Flanders and Brabant. Gastanaga was
recalled; and William was invited to take upon himself the
government of the Low Countries, with powers not less than regal.
Philip the Second would not easily have believed that, within a
century after his death, his greatgrandson would implore the
greatgrandson of William the Silent to exercise the authority of
a sovereign at Brussels.298

The offer was in one sense tempting; but William was too wise to
accept it. He knew that the population of the Spanish Netherlands
was firmly attached to the Church of Rome. Every act of a
Protestant ruler was certain to be regarded with suspicion by the
clergy and people of those countries. Already Gastanaga,
mortified by his disgrace, had written to inform the Court of
Rome that changes were in contemplation which would make Ghent
and Antwerp as heretical as Amsterdam and London.299 It had
doubtless also occurred to William that if, by governing mildly
and justly, and by showing a decent respect for the ceremonies
and the ministers of the Roman Catholic religion, he should
succeed in obtaining the confidence of the Belgians, he would
inevitably raise against himself a storm of obloquy in our
island. He knew by experience what it was to govern two nations
strongly attached to two different Churches. A large party among
the Episcopalians of England could not forgive him for having
consented to the establishment of the presbyterian polity in
Scotland. A large party among the Presbyterians of Scotland
blamed him for maintaining the episcopal polity in England. If he
now took under his protection masses, processions, graven images,
friaries, nunneries, and, worst of all, Jesuit pulpits, Jesuit
confessionals and Jesuit colleges, what could he expect but that
England and Scotland would join in one cry of reprobation? He
therefore refused to accept the government of the Low Countries,
and proposed that it should be entrusted to the Elector of
Bavaria. The Elector of Bavaria was, after the Emperor, the most
powerful of the Roman Catholic potentates of Germany. He was
young, brave, and ambitious of military distinction. The Spanish
Court was willing to appoint him, and he was desirous to be
appointed; but much delay was caused by an absurd difficulty. The
Elector thought it beneath him to ask for what he wished to have.
The formalists of the Cabinet of Madrid thought it beneath the
dignity of the Catholic King to give what had not been asked.
Mediation was necessary, and was at last successful. But much
time was lost; and the spring was far advanced before the new
Governor of the Netherlands entered on his functions.300

William had saved the coalition from the danger of perishing by
disunion. But by no remonstrance, by no entreaty, by no bribe,
could he prevail on his allies to be early in the field. They
ought to have profited by the severe lesson which had been given
them in the preceding year. But again every one of them lingered,
and wondered why the rest were lingering; and again he who singly
wielded the whole power of France was found, as his haughty motto
had long boasted, a match for a multitude of adversaries.301 His
enemies, while still unready, learned with dismay that he had
taken the field in person at the head of his nobility. On no
occasion had that gallant aristocracy appeared with more
splendour in his train. A single circumstance may suffice to give
a notion of the pomp and luxury of his camp. Among the musketeers
of his household rode, for the first time, a stripling of
seventeen, who soon afterwards succeeded to the title of Duke of
Saint Simon, and to whom we owe those inestimable memoirs which
have preserved, for the delight and instruction of many lands and
of many generations, the vivid picture of a France which has long
passed away. Though the boy's family was at that time very hard
pressed for money, he travelled with thirty-five horses and
sumpter mules. The princesses of the blood, each surrounded by a
group of highborn and graceful ladies, accompanied the King; and
the smiles of so many charming women inspired the throng of vain
and voluptuous but highspirited gentlemen with more than common
courage. In the brilliant crowd which surrounded the French
Augustus appeared the French Virgil, the graceful, the tender,
the melodious Racine. He had, in conformity with the prevailing
fashion, become devout, had given up writing for the theatre;
and, having determined to apply himself vigorously to the
discharge of the duties which belonged to him as historiographer
of France, he now came to see the great events which it was his
office to record.302 In the neighbourhood of Mons, Lewis
entertained the ladies with the most magnificent review that had
ever been seen in modern Europe. A hundred and twenty thousand of
the finest troops in the world were drawn up in a line eight
miles long. It may be doubted whether such an army had ever been
brought together under the Roman eagles. The show began early in
the morning, and was not over when the long summer day closed.
Racine left the ground, astonished, deafened, dazzled, and tired
to death. In a private letter he ventured to give utterance to an
amiable wish which he probably took good care not to whisper in
the courtly circle: "Would to heaven that all these poor fellows
were in their cottages again with their wives and their little
ones!"303

After this superb pageant Lewis announced his intention of
attacking Namur. In five days he was under the walls of that
city, at the head of more than thirty thousand men. Twenty
thousand peasants, pressed in those parts of the Netherlands
which the French occupied, were compelled to act as pioneers.
Luxemburg, with eighty thousand men, occupied a strong position
on the road between Namur and Brussels, and was prepared to give
battle to any force which might attempt to raise the siege.304
This partition of duties excited no surprise. It had long been
known that the great Monarch loved sieges, and that he did not
love battles. He professed to think that the real test of
military skill was a siege. The event of an encounter between two
armies on an open plain was, in his opinion, often determined by
chance; but only science could prevail against ravelins and
bastions which science had constructed. His detractors sneeringly
pronounced it fortunate that the department of the military art
which His Majesty considered as the noblest was one in which it
was seldom necessary for him to expose to serious risk a life
invaluable to his people.

Namur, situated at the confluence of the Sambre and the Meuse,
was one of the great fortresses of Europe. The town lay in the
plain, and had no strength except what was derived from art. But
art and nature had combined to fortify that renowned citadel
which, from the summit of a lofty rock, looks down on a boundless
expanse of cornfields, woods and meadows, watered by two fine
rivers. The people of the city and of the surrounding region were
proud of their impregnable castle. Their boast was that never, in
all the wars which had devastated the Netherlands, had skill or
valour been able to penetrate those walls. The neighbouring
fastnesses, famed throughout the world for their strength,
Antwerp and Ostend, Ypres, Lisle and Tournay, Mons and
Valenciennes, Cambray and Charleroi, Limburg and Luxemburg, had
opened their gates to conquerors; but never once had the flag
been pulled down from the battlements of Namur. That nothing
might be wanting to the interest of the siege, the two great
masters of the art of fortification were opposed to each other.
Vauban had during many years been regarded as the first of
engineers; but a formidable rival had lately arisen, Menno, Baron
of Cohorn, the ablest officer in the service of the States
General. The defences of Namur had been recently strengthened and
repaired under Cohorn's superintendence; and he was now within
the walls. Vauban was in the camp of Lewis. It might therefore be
expected that both the attack and the defence would be conducted
with consummate ability.

By this time the allied armies had assembled; but it was too
late.305 William hastened towards Namur. He menaced the French
works, first from the west, then from the north, then from the
east. But between him and the lines of circumvallation lay the
army of Luxemburg, turning as he turned, and always so strongly
posted that to attack it would have been the height of
imprudence. Meanwhile the besiegers, directed by the skill of
Vauban and animated by the presence of Lewis, made rapid
progress. There were indeed many difficulties to be surmounted
and many hardships to be endured. The weather was stormy; and, on
the eighth of June, the feast of Saint Medard, who holds in the
French Calendar the same inauspicious place which in our Calendar
belongs to Saint Swithin, the rain fell in torrents. The Sambre
rose and covered many square miles on which the harvest was
green. The Mehaigne whirled down its bridges to the Meuse. All
the roads became swamps. The trenches were so deep in water and
mire that it was the business of three days to move a gun from
one battery to another. The six thousand waggons which had
accompanied the French army were useless. It was necessary that
gunpowder, bullets, corn, hay, should be carried from place to
place on the backs of the war horses. Nothing but the authority
of Lewis could, in such circumstances, have maintained order and
inspired cheerfulness. His soldiers, in truth, showed much more
reverence for him than for what their religion had made sacred.
They cursed Saint Medard heartily, and broke or burned every
image of him that could be found. But for their King there was
nothing that they were not ready to do and to bear. In spite of
every obstacle they constantly gained ground. Cohorn was severely
wounded while defending with desperate resolution a fort which he
had himself constructed, and of which he was proud. His place
could not be supplied. The governor was a feeble man whom
Gastanaga had appointed, and whom William had recently advised
the Elector of Bavaria to remove. The spirit of the garrison gave
way. The town surrendered on the eighth day of the siege, the
citadel about three weeks later.306

The history of the fall of Namur in 1692 bears a close
resemblance to the history of the fail of Mons in 1691. Both in
1691 and in 1692, Lewis, the sole and absolute master of the
resources of his kingdom, was able to open the campaign, before
William, the captain of a coalition, had brought together his
dispersed forces. In both years the advantage of having the first
move decided the event of the game. At Namur, as at Mons, Lewis,
assisted by Vauban conducted the siege; Luxemburg covered it;
William vainly tried to raise it, and, with deep mortification,
assisted as a spectator at the victory of his enemy.

In one respect however the fate of the two fortresses was very
different. Mons was delivered up by its own inhabitants. Namur
might perhaps have been saved if the garrison had been as zealous
and determined as the population. Strange to say, in this place,
so long subject to a foreign rule, there was found a patriotism
resembling that of the little Greek commonwealths. There is no
reason to believe that the burghers cared about the balance of
power, or had any preference for James or for William, for the
Most Christian King or for the Most Catholic King. But every
citizen considered his own honour as bound up with the honour of
the maiden fortress. It is true that the French did not abuse
their victory. No outrage was committed; the privileges of the
municipality were respected, the magistrates were not changed. Yet
the people could not see a conqueror enter their hitherto
unconquered castle without tears of rage and shame. Even the
barefooted Carmelites, who had renounced all pleasures, all
property, all society, all domestic affection, whose days were
all fast days, who passed month after month without uttering a
word, were strangely moved. It was in vain that Lewis attempted
to soothe them by marks of respect and by munificent bounty.
Whenever they met a French uniform they turned their heads away
with a look which showed that a life of prayer, of abstinence and
of silence had left one earthly feeling still unsubdued.307

This was perhaps the moment at which the arrogance of Lewis
reached the highest point. He had achieved the last and the most
splendid military exploit of his life. His confederated foes,
English, Dutch and German, had, in their own despite, swelled his
triumph, and had been witnesses of the glory which made their
hearts sick. His exultation was boundless. The inscriptions on
the medals which he struck to commemorate his success, the
letters by which he enjoined the prelates of his kingdom to sing
the Te Deum, were boastful and sarcastic. His people, a people
among whose many fine qualities moderation in prosperity cannot
be reckoned, seemed for a time to be drunk with pride. Even
Boileau, hurried along by the prevailing enthusiasm, forgot the
good sense and good taste to which he owed his reputation. He
fancied himself a lyric poet, and gave vent to his feelings in a
hundred and sixty lines of frigid bombast about Alcides, Mars,
Bacchus, Ceres, the lyre of Orpheus, the Thracian oaks and the
Permessian nymphs. He wondered whether Namur, had, like Troy,
been built by Apollo and Neptune. He asked what power could
subdue a city stronger than that before which the Greeks lay ten
years; and he returned answer to himself that such a miracle
could be wrought only by Jupiter or by Lewis. The feather in the
hat of Lewis was the loadstar of victory. To Lewis all things
must yield, princes, nations, winds, waters. In conclusion the
poet addressed himself to the banded enemies of France, and
tauntingly bade them carry back to their homes the tidings that
Namur had been taken in their sight. Before many months had
elapsed both the boastful king and the boastful poet were taught
that it is prudent as well as graceful to be modest in the hour
of victory.

One mortification Lewis had suffered even in the midst of his
prosperity. While he lay before Namur, he heard the sounds of
rejoicing from the distant camp of the allies. Three peals of
thunder from a hundred and forty pieces of cannon were answered
by three volleys from sixty thousand muskets. It was soon known
that these salutes were fired on account of the battle of La
Hogue. The French King exerted himself to appear serene. "They
make a strange noise," he said, "about the burning of a few
ships." In truth he was much disturbed, and the more so because a
report had reached the Low Countries that there had been a sea
fight, and that his fleet had been victorious. His good humour
however was soon restored by the brilliant success of those
operations which were under his own immediate direction. When the
siege was over, he left Luxemburg in command of the army, and
returned to Versailles. At Versailles the unfortunate Tourville
soon presented himself, and was graciously received. As soon as
he appeared in the circle, the King welcomed him in a loud voice.
"I am perfectly satisfied with you and with my sailors. We have
been beaten, it is true; but your honour and that of the nation
are unsullied."308

Though Lewis had quitted the Netherlands, the eyes of all Europe
were still fixed on that region. The armies there had been
strengthened by reinforcements drawn from many quarters. Every
where else the military operations of the year were languid and
without interest. The Grand Vizier and Lewis of Baden did little
more than watch each other on the Danube. Marshal Noailles and
the Duke of Medina Sidonia did little more than watch each other
under the Pyrenees. On the Upper Rhine, and along the frontier
which separates France from Piedmont, an indecisive predatory war
was carried on, by which the soldiers suffered little and the
cultivators of the soil much. But all men looked, with anxious
expectation of some great event, to the frontier of Brabant,
where William was opposed to Luxemburg.

Luxemburg, now in his sixty-sixth year, had risen, by slow
degrees, and by the deaths of several great men, to the first
place among the generals of his time. He was of that noble house
of Montmorency which united many mythical and many historical
titles to glory, which boasted that it sprang from the first
Frank who was baptized into the name of Christ in the fifth
century, and which had, since the eleventh century, given to
France a long and splendid succession of Constables and Marshals.
In valour and abilities Luxemburg was not inferior to any of his
illustrious race. But, highly descended and highly gifted as he
was, he had with difficulty surmounted the obstacles which
impeded him in the road to fame. If he owed much to the bounty of
nature and fortune, he had suffered still more from their spite.
His features were frightfully harsh, his stature was diminutive; a
huge and pointed hump rose on his back. His constitution was
feeble and sickly. Cruel imputations had been thrown on his
morals. He had been accused of trafficking with sorcerers and
with vendors of poison, had languished long in a dungeon, and had
at length regained his liberty without entirely regaining his
honour.309 He had always been disliked both by Louvois and by
Lewis. Yet the war against the European coalition had lasted but
a very short time when both the minister and the King felt that
the general who was personally odious to them was necessary to
the state. Conde and Turenne were no more; and Luxemburg was
without dispute the first soldier that France still possessed. In
vigilance, diligence and perseverance he was deficient. He seemed
to reserve his great qualities for great emergencies. It was on a
pitched field of battle that he was all himself. His glance was
rapid and unerring. His judgment was clearest and surest when
responsibility pressed heaviest on him and when difficulties
gathered thickest around him. To his skill, energy and presence
of mind his country owed some glorious days. But, though
eminently successful in battles, he was not eminently successful
in campaigns. He gained immense renown at William's expense; and
yet there was, as respected the objects of the war, little to
choose between the two commanders. Luxemburg was repeatedly
victorious; but he had not the art of improving a victory.
William was repeatedly defeated; but of all generals he was the
best qualified to repair a defeat.

In the month of July William's headquarters were at Lambeque.
About six miles off, at Steinkirk, Luxemburg had encamped with
the main body of his army; and about six miles further off lay a
considerable force commanded by the Marquess of Boufflers, one of
the best officers in the service of Lewis.

The country between Lambeque and Steinkirk was intersected by
innumerable hedges and ditches; and neither army could approach
the other without passing through several long and narrow
defiles. Luxemburg had therefore little reason to apprehend that
he should be attacked in his entrenchments; and he felt assured
that he should have ample notice before any attack was made; for
he had succeeded in corrupting an adventurer named Millevoix, who
was chief musician and private secretary of the Elector of
Bavaria. This man regularly sent to the French headquarters
authentic information touching the designs of the allies.

The Marshal, confident in the strength of his position and in the
accuracy of his intelligence, lived in his tent as he was
accustomed to live in his hotel at Paris. He was at once a
valetudinarian and a voluptuary; and, in both characters, he
loved his ease. He scarcely ever mounted his horse. Light
conversation and cards occupied most of his hours. His table was
luxurious; and, when he had sate down to supper, it was a service
of danger to disturb him. Some scoffers remarked that in his
military dispositions he was not guided exclusively by military
reasons, that he generally contrived to entrench himself in some
place where the veal and the poultry were remarkably good, and
that he was always solicitous to keep open such communications
with the sea as might ensure him, from September to April, a
regular supply of Sandwich oysters.

If there were any agreeable women in the neighbourhood of his
camp, they were generally to be found at his banquets. It may
easily be supposed that, under such a commander, the young
princes and nobles of France vied with one another in splendour
and gallantry.310

While he was amusing himself after his wonted fashion, the
confederate princes discovered that their counsels were betrayed.
A peasant picked up a letter which had been dropped, and carried
it to the Elector of Bavaria. It contained full proofs of the
guilt of Millevoix. William conceived a hope that he might be
able to take his enemies in the snare which they had laid for
him. The perfidious secretary was summoned to the royal presence
and taxed with his crime. A pen was put into his hand; a pistol
was held to his breast; and he was commanded to write on pain of
instant death. His letter, dictated by William, was conveyed to
the French camp. It apprised Luxemburg that the allies meant to
send out a strong foraging party on the next day. In order to
protect this party from molestation, some battalions of infantry,
accompanied by artillery, would march by night to occupy the
defiles which lay between the armies. The Marshal read, believed
and went to rest, while William urged forward the preparations
for a general assault on the French lines.

The whole allied army was under arms while it was still dark. In
the grey of the morning Luxemburg was awakened by scouts, who
brought tidings that the enemy was advancing in great force. He at
first treated the news very lightly. His correspondent, it
seemed, had been, as usual, diligent and exact. The Prince of
Orange had sent out a detachment to protect his foragers, and
this detachment had been magnified by fear into a great host. But
one alarming report followed another fast. All the passes, it was
said, were choked with multitudes of foot, horse and artillery,
under the banners of England and of Spain, of the United
Provinces and of the Empire; and every column was moving towards
Steinkirk. At length the Marshal rose, got on horseback, and rode
out to see what was doing.

By this time the vanguard of the allies was close to his
outposts. About half a mile in advance of his army was encamped a
brigade named from the province of Bourbonnais. These troops had
to bear the first brunt of the onset. Amazed and panicstricken,
they were swept away in a moment, and ran for their lives,
leaving their tents and seven pieces of cannon to the assailants.

Thus far William's plans had been completely successful but now
fortune began to turn against him. He had been misinformed as to
the nature of the ground which lay between the station of the
brigade of Bourbonnais and the main encampment of the enemy. He
had expected that he should be able to push forward without a
moment's pause, that he should find the French army in a state of
wild disorder, and that his victory would be easy and complete.
But his progress was obstructed by several fences and ditches;
there was a short delay; and a short delay sufficed to frustrate
his design. Luxemburg was the very man for such a conjuncture. He
had committed great faults; he had kept careless guard; he had
trusted implicitly to information which had proved false; he had
neglected information which had proved true; one of his divisions
was flying in confusion; the other divisions were unprepared for
action. That crisis would have paralysed the faculties of an
ordinary captain; it only braced and stimulated those of
Luxemburg. His mind, nay his sickly and distorted body, seemed to
derive health and vigour from disaster and dismay. In a short
time he had disposed every thing. The French army was in battle
order. Conspicuous in that great array were the household troops
of Lewis, the most renowned body of fighting men in Europe; and
at their head appeared, glittering in lace and embroidery hastily
thrown on and half fastened, a crowd of young princes and lords
who had just been roused by the trumpet from their couches or
their revels, and who had hastened to look death in the face with
the gay and festive intrepidity characteristic of French
gentlemen. Highest in rank among these highborn warriors was a
lad of sixteen, Philip Duke of Chartres, son of the Duke of
Orleans, and nephew of the King of France. It was with difficulty
and by importunate solicitation that the gallant boy had extorted
Luxemburg's permission to be where the fire was hottest. Two
other youths of royal blood, Lewis Duke of Bourbon, and Armand
Prince of Conti, showed a spirit worthy of their descent. With
them was a descendant of one of the bastards of Henry the Fourth,
Lewis Duke of Vendome, a man sunk in indolence and in the foulest
vice, yet capable of exhibiting on a great occasion the qualities
of a great soldier. Berwick, who was beginning to earn for
himself an honourable name in arms, was there; and at his side
rode Sarsfield, whose courage and ability earned, on that day,
the esteem of the whole French army. Meanwhile Luxemburg had sent
off a pressing message to summon Boufflers. But the message was
needless. Boufflers had heard the firing, and, like a brave and
intelligent captain, was already hastening towards the point from
which the sound came.