Prince Eugene represented that the duke, in not only withdrawing his own troops but the troops in the queen's pay too, would leave the allies at the mercy of the French, and be productive of the most disastrous and disgraceful consequences; and he therefore exhorted the foreign troops to stand firm to their duty, declaring that they could not separate from the confederacy without express consent of the princes their masters. An extraordinary conference was summoned at the Hague to consider this difficulty, and a delay of five days before marching was demanded of the duke and consented to by him. At length the princes to whom the troops belonged assured them that they would maintain them at their own expense for one month under the command of prince Eugene, and afterwards at half the charge, provided the States-General and the empires would defray the rest. On learning this conclusion, St. John wrote a most arrogant letter to Ormonde, declaring that the British government was much at a loss to know what these princes meant; adding:—"A beggarly German general commands the troops which have been so many years paid by her majesty, and which are actually so at this time, to desert from the queen, and to leave her subject forces, for aught they knew, exposed to the attacks of the enemy."
This language, applied to such a man as prince Eugene, was nothing less than infamous; and the argument was equally false, because St. John knew perfectly well that there was no danger at this moment of the French attacking the English. But the German princes stood firm, calling God to witness that they had furnished their troops with higher objects than the mere pay—those of their duty to the German empire, and the common safety and interest of Europe. Ormonde, on this, declared that the poor German soldiers should never get the arrears of their pay; and he ordered a cessation of arms for two months, according to his orders received from St. John—now advanced to the dignity of baron St. John and viscount Bolingbroke.
When, however, the French saw that Ormonde could not induce the mercenary troops to move, they refused to surrender Dunkirk, and an English detachment which arrived there to take possession found the gates shut in their faces. At this insult the British troops burst out into a fury of indignation, and, says Cunningham, "cursed the duke of Ormonde as stupid fool and general of straw." The officers as well as the men were beside themselves with shame, and shed tears of mortification, remembering the glorious times under Marlborough. Ormonde himself, thus disgraced, thus helpless—for he had not the satisfaction, even, of being able to avenge himself on the French—thus deserted by the auxiliaries, and made a laughing-stock to all Europe by the crooked and base policy of his government, retired from before the walls of Dunkirk, and directed his course towards Douay. "This," continues Cunningham, "was the inauspicious day which caused so much sorrow and disgust to the allies, and branded the British name with infamy and disgrace."
But Ormonde had not yet got to the bottom of his humiliation as the general of such a government. When he approached Douay the Dutch shut him out there too, and repeated the contempt wherever they had a garrison, as at Tournay, Oudenarde, and Lisle. Here was a spectacle of that English army which reaped the laurels of Blenheim, Ramillies, Oudenarde, and Malplaquet, wandering outcast, and subject to every insult from both the French and the allies, doomed to endure their ignominious fate from the dishonourable and unpatriotic policy of a set of mean men, who would ruin their country if they could thereby ruin their political rivals. Any man of spirit would have at once thrown up such a command; but Ormonde tamely continued it, and had yet more exquisite mockeries and chagrins to endure. Villars, with a refined raillery, sent him word that, if none of his old friends would receive him and his army, he was welcome to a retreat in France; and, to add to his vexation, he saw Dunkirk surrendered to another British commander. Louis had sent to order its surrender, and Sir John Leake, who had arrived with the fleet before the place, took possession of it. Ormonde thus saw even this small honour snatched from him, and had to march back from Ghent, where at length he had found a shelter, to support brigadier Hill, whom Leake had landed in Dunkirk. Towards the end of October he returned to England, where the tories endeavoured to cover his and their own dishonour by receiving him as if he had been a conqueror greater, even, than Marlborough; but they could not, by their feigned enthusiasm, hide from the nation how much they had disgraced it.
Eugene, during these proceedings, had been actively pushing on the fortunes of the allies with his remnant of an army. He pushed on the siege of Quesnoy, and took it. He sent a flying detachment of one thousand five hundred cavalry, under major-general Grovestein, to make an incursion into France. This force made a rapid raid in Champagne, passed the Noire, the Mouse, the Moselle, and the Saar, ravaged the country, reduced a great number of villages and towns to ashes, rode up to the very gate of Metz, and then retired to Traerbach with a load of rich booty. This was a proof of what might have been done in France at this period with the whole united army, and a commander like Marlborough, in place of miserably giving up everything to that country in the moment of power. As it was, it created the utmost consternation in Paris, the people of which already saw the English at their gate; whilst Louis, trembling for his safety, did not think himself safe at Versailles, but gathered all the troops in the neighbourhood of the capital around his palace, leaving the city to take care of itself. What a glory to this country, what a satisfaction to the world would have been such an event—the old despot and troubler of Europe compelled in terror to yield all the just demands of the allies, and all necessary securities for the future peace of the world.
But the Harleys and St. John had deprived the nation of this triumph, and left the way open to fresh insults and humiliations. No sooner did Villars see the English forces withdrawn from the allies, than he seized the opportunity to snatch fresh advantages for France, and thus make all her demands on the allies certain. He crossed the Scheldt on the 24th of July, and, with an overwhelming force, attacked the earl of Albemarle, who commanded a division of the allied army at Derrain. Eugene, who, from the reduction of Quesnoy, had proceeded to lay siege to Landrey, instantly hastened to the support of Albemarle; but, to his grief, found himself, when in sight of him, cut off from rendering
