There still remained that dreaded
infantry of the Spanish army, whose great battalions in close line of
battle like so many towers, but towers which knew how to repair their
breaches, were unshaken by the onset, and, tho the rest of the army
was put to rout, maintained a steady fire. Thrice the young conqueror
attempted to break the ranks of these intrepid warriors, thrice was
he repulsed by the valorous Comte de Fontaines, who was borne to
the scene of combat in his invalid's chair, by reason of his bodily
infirmities, thus demonstrating that the warrior's soul has the
ascendant over the body it animates.
But at last was he forced to yield. In vain does Beck, with a body of
fresh cavalry, hasten his march through the woods in order to attack
our exhausted soldiers; the prince has forestalled him; the defeated
battalions are asking quarter. But victory for the Duc d'Enghien was
destined to be more terrible than the combat. While with an air
of confidence he advances to receive the surrender of these brave
fellows, they, on their part, still on their guard, are in dread of
being surprized by a fresh attack.
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