at Fontainebleau. Before he could lay siege
either to Liege or to Brussels he must fight and win a battle. The
chances were indeed greatly in his favour; for his army was more
numerous, better officered and better disciplined than that of the
allies. Luxemburg strongly advised him to march against William. The
aristocracy of France anticipated with intrepid gaiety a bloody but a
glorious day, followed by a large distribution of the crosses of the new
order. William himself was perfectly aware of his danger, and prepared
to meet it with calm but mournful fortitude. [442] Just at this
conjuncture Lewis announced his intention to return instantly to
Versailles, and to send the Dauphin and Boufflers, with part of the army
which was assembled near Namur, to join Marshal Lorges who commanded in
the Palatinate. Luxemburg was thunderstruck. He expostulated boldly and
earnestly. Never, he said, was such an opportunity thrown away. If His
Majesty would march against the Prince of Orange, victory was almost
certain. Could any advantage which it was possible to obtain on the
Rhine be set against the advantage of a victory gained in the heart
of Brabant over the principal army and the principal captain of the
coalition? The Marshal reasoned; he implored; he went on his knees; but
in vain; and he quitted the royal presence in the deepest dejection.
Lewis left the camp a week after he had joined it, and never afterwards
made war in person.

The astonishment was great throughout his army. All the awe which he
inspired could not prevent his old generals from grumbling and looking
sullen, his young nobles from venting their spleen, sometimes in curses
and sometimes in sarcasms, and even his common soldiers from holding
irreverent language round their watchfires. His enemies rejoiced with
vindictive and insulting joy. Was it not strange, they asked, that this
great prince should have gone in state to the theatre of war, and then
in a week have gone in the same state back again? Was it necessary
that all that vast retinue, princesses, dames of honour and tirewomen,
equerries and gentlemen of the bedchamber, cooks, confectioners and
musicians, long trains of waggons, droves of led horses and sumpter
mules, piles of plate, bales of tapestry, should travel four hundred
miles merely in order that the Most Christian King might look at his
soldiers and then return? The ignominious truth was too evident to be
concealed. He had gone to the Nether