their comrades, who, with M. de Vendome, were
waiting for Staremberg outside the town, at Villaviciosa, a little place
that afterwards gave its name to the battle. Only four hundred men were
left in Brighuega.

M. de Vendome arranged his army in order of battle in a tolerably open
plain, but embarrassed by little knolls in several places; very
disadvantageous for the cavalry. Immediately afterwards the cannon began
to fire on both sides, and almost immediately the two links of the King
of Spain prepared to charge. After the battle had proceeded some time,
M. de Vendome perceived that his centre began to give way, and that the
left of his cavalry could not break the right of the enemies. He thought
all was lost, and gave orders accordingly to his men to retire towards
Torija. Straightway, too, he directed himself in that direction, with
the King of Spain and a good part of his troops. While thus retreating,
he learnt that two of his officers had charged the enemy's infantry with
the cavalry they had at their orders, had much knocked it about and had
rendered themselves masters, on the field of battle, of a large number
of-prisoners, and of the artillery that the enemy had abandoned. News so
agreeable and so little expected determined the Duc de Vendome and the
King of Spain to return to the battle with the troops that had followed
them. The day was, in fact, won just as night came on. The enemies
abandoned twenty pieces of cannon, two mortars, their wounded and their
equipages; and numbers of them were taken prisoners. But Staremberg,
having all the night to himself, succeeded in retiring in good order with
seven or eight thousand men. His baggage and the majority of his waggons
fell a prey to the vanquisher. Counting the garrison of Brighuega, the
loss to the enemy was eleven thousand men killed or taken, their
ammunition, artillery, baggage, and a great number of flags and
standards.

When we consider the extreme peril the Crown of Spain ran in these
engagements, and that this time, if things had gone ill there was no
resource, we tremble still. Had a catastrophe happened, there was
nothing to hope from France. Its exhaustion and its losses would not
have enabled it to lend aid. In its desire for peace, in fact, it would
have hailed the loss of the Spanish Crown as a relief. The imprudence,
therefore, of M. de Vendome in so readily falling into the snare laid for
him, is all the more to be blamed. He takes no trouble