n our army by the cannon of that bloody action. 'Twas
heartrending, for an officer who had a heart, to look down his line on a
parade-day afterwards, and miss hundreds of faces of comrades--humble or of
high rank--that had gathered but yesterday full of courage and cheerfulness
round the torn and blackened flags. Where were our friends? As the great
duke reviewed us, riding along our lines with his fine suite of prancing
aides de camp and generals, stopping here and there to thank an officer
with those eager smiles and bows of which his grace was always lavish,
scarce a huzzah could be got for him, though Cadogan, with an oath, rode
up and cried--"D--n you, why don't you cheer?" But the men had no heart for
that: not one of them but was thinking, "Where's my comrade?--where's my
brother that fought by me, or my dear captain that led me yesterday?"
'Twas the most gloomy pageant I ever looked on; and the _Te Deum_, sung by
our chaplains, the most woful and dreary satire.

Esmond's general added one more to the many marks of honour which he had
received in the front of a score of battles, and got a wound in the groin,
which laid him on his back; and you may be sure he consoled himself by
abusing the commander-in-chief, as he lay groaning:--"Corporal John's as
fond of me," he used to say, "as King David was of General Uriah; and so
he always gives me the post of danger." He persisted, to his dying day, in
believing that the duke intended he should be beat at Wynendael, and sent
him purposely with a small force, hoping that he might be knocked on the
head there. Esmond and Frank Castlewood both escaped without hurt, though
the division which our general commanded suffered even more than any
other, having to sustain not only the fury of the enemy's cannonade, which
was very hot and well-served, but the furious and repeated charges of the
famous Maison-du-Roy, which we had to receive and beat off again and
again, with volleys of shot and hedges of iron, and our four lines of
musketeers and pikemen. They said the King of England charged us no less
than twelve times that day, along with the French Household. Esmond's late
regiment, General Webb's own Fusiliers, served in the division which their
colonel commanded. The general was thrice in the centre of the square of
the Fusiliers, calling the fire at the French charges; and, after the
action, his grace the Duke of Berwick sent his compliments to his old
regiment and their colonel