218

IIISTOBY OP ENGLAND.

CRAP.

XX.

J693.

eealed his xvhite cockade, and hoped to be able, by the help of-his native tongue, to pass himself off as an officer of the Eng-lish army. But his face was recognised by one of his mother’sbrothers, George Churchill-, who held on that day the com-mand of a brigade. A hurried embrace was exchanged betweenthe kinsmen; and the uncle conducted the nephexr to William,who, as long as every thing seemed to be going well, remainedin the rear. The meeting of the King and the captive, unitedby such close domestic ties, and divided by such inexpiable in-juries, was a strange sight. Both behaved as became them.William uncovered, and addressed to his prisoner a few wordsof courteous greeting. Berwick’s only reply was a solemn boxv.The King put on his hat: the Duke put on his hat; and thecousins parted for ever.

By this time the French, who had been driven in confusionout of Neerwinden, had been reinforced by a division under thecommand of the Duke of Bourbon, and came gallantly back tothe attack. William, well axvare of the importance of this post,gave orders that troops should move thither from other parts ofhis line. This second conflict was long and bloody. The as-sailants again forced an entrance into the village. They wereagain driven out with immense slaughter, and showed littleinclination to return to the charge.

Meanwhile the battle had been raging all along the en-trenchments of the allied army. Again and again Luxemburgbrought up his troops within pistolshot of the breastwork: buthe could bring them no nearer. Again and again they recoiledfrom the heavy fire which was poured on their front and on theirflanks. It seemed that all was over. Luxemburg retired to aspot which was out of gunshot, and summoned a fexv of hischief officers to a consultation. They talked together duringsome time; and their animated gestures xvere observed withdeep interest by all who were within sight.