Louis."
France might have reproached Louis XIV. for the arrogance which had drawn her, with him, to the borders of an abyss. Intoxicated as well as the monarch by an insensate ardor for glory, the French people had long served the royal passions. They cruelly expiated their faults, without however allowing themselves to be overwhelmed by their misfortunes. In France, as well as in Spain, the people and the army nobly responded to the appeals of the sovereigns. "It is a miracle that the firmness and the virtue of the soldier survives the sufferings of hunger," said Marshal Villars, who took command of the French army in the Low Countries. He encountered near Malplaquet, on the 11th of September, 1709, Prince Eugene and Marlborough, who had just taken possession of Tournay. In vain did Villars, for many days, implore the king for permission to give battle. When finally, to his great joy, the orders were given to engage the enemy, his troops were so eager for the combat that they threw away the rations which had just been distributed to them. "Vive le Roi! Vive le marechal!" cried the soldiers. Villars intrenched himself outside of a woods. "So we have still to fight against moles," angrily said Prince Eugene.
During the action Marshal Villars was seriously wounded. "I had my wound dressed upon the field, and placed myself upon a chair to give my orders," wrote he in his Memoirs, "but the pain caused me a swoon, which lasted so long that I was borne unconsciously to Quesnoy." Prince Eugene, also wounded, while attacking the centre of the French army, refused all care. "There will be time enough for that this evening, if I survive," said he calmly. He remained on his horse. Marshal Boufflers, who had served thus far as a volunteer, took the command of the French army. Its defeat was complete, although glorious. The retreat was conducted like a parade. The allies lost twenty thousand men. "If God vouchsafe that we should lose such another battle," wrote Villars to Louis XIV., "your Majesty could count your enemies destroyed." The king was not deceived; but he sadly renewed the negotiations by sending Marshal Uxelles, and the Abbé Polignac to Gertruydenberg.
This new victory elated the allies. Heinsius, charged with the conduct of the conferences, maintained his propositions. "The States-General were then the arbitors of Europe," wrote Torcy, in his Memoirs, "but they were so dazzled by the excess of glory to which the allies had raised them that they would not suffer it to be said to them that they were working for the aggrandizement of Austria and England."—"It is evident that you are not accustomed to conquer," bitterly remarked the Abbé Polignac to the Holland delegates. The king consented to give guarantees to engage his grandson to abdicate; he promised, in case of refusal, not only to sustain him no longer, but to furnish the allies a monthly subsidy of a million francs, and to grant a passage over French territory. He accepted the cession of Alsace and Lorraine, and the return of the three bishoprics to the empire. The abdication of Philip V. was to be assured, or else Louis XIV. was to aid, by force of arms, in dethroning him. The just pride of the king and of the father, revolted against this impudence, and severe ultimatum. The King of Spain absolutely refused all concessions. "Whatever may be the misfortunes which await me," wrote he to his grandfather, "I prefer to submit myself to whatever God may decide for me in battle, to deciding for myself by consenting to an accommodation which would force me to abandon a people upon whom my reverses, up to this time, have produced no other effect than to augment their zeal and their affection for me." Louis XIV. withdrew his propositions; the conferences at Gertruydenberg were abandoned on the 25th of July, 1710. The king was no longer able to assist his grandson, but he sent Vendôme.
On the 10th of December, the French general, constantly defeated during the first part of the campaign, gained over the Austrian contingent of the archduke, a disputed victory, at Villa Viciosa. Count Staremberg, who commanded, spiked his cannon, and retired, while the young king slept upon the field of battle. The allies now held only Cattalona. In vain had General Stanhope recently led the archduke to Madrid. "I was ordered to conduct him there," said he; "when he is once there, may God, or the devil maintain him there, or drive him out—that is not my business."
Stanhope had judged well the sentiments of the Spanish people, more and more attached to Philip V., and faithful to his cause; neither was he deceived regarding the position that the military and political successes—that England owed, above all, to the Duke of Marlborough—had assured to her in Europe. Long charged with the burden of the war, England had become, by her close alliance with the Dutch, as well as by her proper predominance, the veritable mistress of peace or war in Europe. "Our Henry and our Edward have left behind them an immortal renown," said Stanhope to the House of Lords, "because they humiliated and conquered the power of France. It is the glory of Queen Elizabeth to have humbled the pride of Spain. Turn by turn these two great monarchies have aspired to an universal domination in Europe; both have been upon the point of obtaining it, in spite of their mutual hostility, but no one had foreseen that an effectual resistance could be opposed to them in Europe, if the two monarchies were united. We have lived long enough to see these two formidable powers threatening, at the same time, all the liberties of Europe. Your Majesty was destined to struggle against these united forces. They have been attacked and compelled to ask for peace."
It was in fact from England that this peace, so desired by France and Spain, and now become indispensable to both powers, was to emanate. The great Whig ministry had been, for a long time, losing favor; the Queen was at length weary of the avidity and hauteur of the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough. New favorites cleverly alienated her and led her back to the friends of her youth. The Tories replaced the Whigs in power. I will soon tell by what maneuvres this cause was served. I wish here only to indicate the political modifications which already made peace foreseen. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, Harley, subsequently Duke of Oxford, recently become a Tory, with no other passion than personal ambition; and the Secretary of State, St. John, known in history under the name of Bolingbroke, Jacobite to the depth of his soul, by restlessness of mind and taste for intrigue, equally urged England forward in the road to peace. The Abbé Gautier, but recently chaplain to Marshal Tallard, and now residing in England, was charged with a mission to Torcy at Versailles. "Do you wish for peace?" said the abbé to him. "I come to bring you the means of obtaining it, and of concluding it, independently of Holland—unworthy of the kindness of the king, and of the honor he has shown in addressing her regarding the pacification of Europe." "To ask a minister of his Majesty, if he desires peace," replied Torcy, "is to ask a dying man whether he would wish to be cured."