s of the finest lace studiously disarranged; and these kerchiefs
were called Steinkirks. [313]
In the camp of the allies all was disunion and discontent. National
jealousies and animosities raged without restraint or disguise. The
resentment of the English was loudly expressed. Solmes, though he was
said by those who knew him well to have some valuable qualities, was not
a man likely to conciliate soldiers who were prejudiced against him as
a foreigner. His demeanour was arrogant, his temper ungovernable. Even
before the unfortunate day of Steinkirk the English officers did not
willingly communicate with him, and the private men murmured at his
harshness. But after the battle the outcry against him became furious.
He was accused, perhaps unjustly, of having said with unfeeling levity,
while the English regiments were contending desperately against great
odds, that he was curious to see how the bulldogs would come off.
Would any body, it was asked, now pretend that it was on account of his
superior skill and experience that he had been put over the heads of so
many English officers? It was the fashion to say that those officers
had never seen war on a large scale. But surely the merest novice was
competent to do all that Solmes had done, to misunderstand orders, to
send cavalry on duty which none but infantry could perform, and to look
on at safe distance while brave men were cut to pieces. It was too much
to be at once insulted and sacrificed, excluded from the honours of war,
yet pushed on all its extreme dangers, sneered at as raw recruits, and
then left to cope unsupported with the finest body of veterans in the
world. Such were the complains of the English army; and they were echoed
by the English nation.
Fortunately about this time a discovery was made which furnished both
the camp at Lambeque and the coffeehouses of London with a subject of
conversation much less agreeable to the Jacobites than the disaster of
Steinkirk.
A plot against the life of William had been, during some months,
maturing in the French War Office. It should seem that Louvois had
originally sketched the design, and had bequeathed it, still rude, to
his son and successor Barbesieux. By Barbesieux the plan was perfected.
The execution was entrusted to an officer named Grandval. Grandval was
undoubtedly brave, and full of zeal for his country and his religion.
He was indeed flighty and half witted, but not on that account the less
dangerous
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