“Where can he be going?” Rupert said.  “He is not riding towards either of the points attacked.”

“It seems to me that he is bolting, Master Rupert, just flying by some road the French have not yet occupied.”

“Impossible!” Rupert said.

But it was so, and the next day the runaway general himself brought the news of his defeat to the League, announcing that he had escaped with thirty horse, and that the rest of his army was destroyed.  It is needless to say that General Obdam never afterwards commanded a Dutch army in the field.

The second part of the news which he brought the Hague was not correct.  General Schlangenberg, the second in command, at once assumed the command.  The Dutch rallied speedily from their surprise, and the advancing columns of the enemy were soon met with a desperate resistance.  In front General Boufflers attacked with twenty battalions of French troops, headed by the grenadiers he had brought with him, while a strong Spanish force barred the retreat.  Under such circumstances many troops would at once have laid down their arms; but such a thought never occurred to the Dutchmen of Schlangenberg’s army.

While a portion of this force opposed Boufflers’ troops pressing on their front, the rest threw themselves against those who barred their retreat to Fort Lille.  Never was there more desperate fighting.  Nowhere could ground have been selected more unsuited for a battlefield.

It was by the roads alone running upon the dykes above the general level of the country the troops could advance or retreat, and it was upon these that the heads of the heavy columns struggled for victory.

There was little firing.  The men in front had no time to reload, those behind could not fire because their friends were before them.  It was a fierce hand-to-hand struggle, such as might have taken place on the same ground in the middle ages, before gunpowder was in use.  Bayonets and clubbed muskets, these were the weapons on both sides, while dismounted troopers—­for horses were worse than useless here, mixed up with the infantry—­fought with swords.  On the roads, on the sides of the slopes, waist deep in the water of the ditches, men fought hand-to-hand.  Schlangenberg commanded at the spot where the Dutchmen obstinately and stubbornly resisted the fury of the French onslaught, and even the chosen grenadiers of France failed to break down that desperate defence.

All day the battle raged.  Rupert having no fixed duty rode backwards and forwards along the roads, now watching how went the defence against the French attack, now how the Dutch in vain tried to press back the Spaniards and open a way of retreat.  Late in the afternoon he saw a party of the staff officers pressing towards the rear on foot.

“We are going to try to get to the head of the column,” one said to Rupert.  “We must force back the Spaniards, or we are all lost.”

“I will join you,” Rupert said, leaping from his horse.