top;
issues through a thin wood,--and actually beholds those same LINES OF
ETTLINGEN, the outmost eastern end of them: a somewhat inconsiderable
matter, after all! Here is Noailles's own account:--

"These retrenchments, made in Turk fashion, consisted of big trees set
zigzag (EN ECHIQUIER), twisted together by the branches; the whole about
five fathoms thick. Inside of it were a small forlorn of Austrians:
these steadily await our grenadiers, and do not give their volley
till we are close. Our grenadiers receive their volley; clear the
intertwisted trees, after receiving a second volley (total loss
seventy-five killed and wounded); and--the enemy quits his post; and
the Lines of Ettlingen ARE stormed!" [Noailles, _Memoires_ (in
Petitot's Collection), iii. 207.] This is not like storming the Lines
of Stollhofen; a thing to make Noailles famous in the Newspapers for a
year. But it was a useful small feat, and well enough performed on his
part. The truth is, Berwick was about attacking the Lines simultaneously
on the other or Muhlburg end of them (had not Noailles, now victorious,
galloped to forbid); and what was far more considerable, those other
French, to the northward, "upon pontoons," are fairly across; like to
be upon the BACK of Duke Ferdinand and his handful of defenders. Duke
Ferdinand perceives that he is come to nothing; hastily collects his
people from their various posts; retreats with them that same night,
unpursued, to Heilbronn; and gives up the command to Prince Eugene, who
is just arrived there,--who took quietly two pinches of snuff on hearing
this news of Ettlingen, and said, "No matter, after all!"

Berwick now forms the Siege, at his discretion; invests Philipsburg,
13th May; [Berwick, ii. 312; 23d, says Noailles's Editor (iii. 210).]
begins firing, night of the 3d-4th June;--Eugene waiting at Heilbronn
till the Reich's-Army come up. The Prussian ten thousand do come, all in
order, on the 7th: the rest by degrees, all later, and all NOT quite
in order. Eugene, the Prussians having joined him, moves down towards
Philipsburg and its cannonading; encamps close to rearward of the
besieging French. "Camp of Wiesenthal" they call it; Village of
Wiesenthal with bogs, on the left, being his head-quarters; Village of
Waghausel, down near the River, a five miles distance, being his limit
on the right. Berwick, in front, industriously battering Philipsburg
into the River, has thrown up strong lines behind him