the scaffold. And now in his first pitched battle with the Duke, this
seemingly trifling injury in the foot was destined to terminate his
existence. Another peculiar circumstance had marked the event. At a gay
supper in the course of this campaign, Hoogstraaten had teased Count
Louis, in a rough, soldierly way, with his disaster at Jemmingen.
He had affected to believe that the retreat upon that occasion had been
unnecessary. "We have been now many days in the Netherlands;" said he,
"and we have seen nothing of the Spaniards but their backs."--"And when
the Duke does break loose," replied Louis, somewhat nettled, "I warrant
you will see their faces soon enough, and remember them for the rest of
your life." The half-jesting remark was thus destined to become a gloomy
prophecy.

This was the only important action daring the campaign. Its perfect
success did not warp Alva's purpose, and, notwithstanding the murmurs of
many of his officers, he remained firm in his resolution. After the
termination of the battle on the Geta, and the Duke's obstinate refusal
to pursue his advantage, the Baron de Chevreau dashed his pistol to the
ground, in his presence, exclaiming that the Duke would never fight.
The Governor smiled at the young man's chagrin, seemed even to approve
his enthusiasm, but reminded him that it was the business of an officer
to fight, of a general to conquer. If the victory were bloodless, so
much the better for all.

This action was fought on the 20th of October. A few days afterwards,
the Prince made his junction with Genlis at Waveren, a place about three
leagues from Louvain and from Brussels. This auxiliary force was,
however, insignificant. There were only five hundred cavalry and three
thousand foot, but so many women and children, that it seemed rather an
emigrating colony than an invading army. They arrived late. If they had