“At Brussels,” says M. Guizot in his Histoire de la Republique d’Angleterre et de Cromwell, “neither Don Juan nor the Marquis of Carracena would believe that Dunkerque was in danger; being at the same time indolent and proud, they disdained the counsel, at one time of vigilant activity and at another of prudent reserve, which was constantly given them by Conde; they would not have anybody come and rouse them during their siesta if any unforeseen incident occurred, nor allow any doubt of their success when once they were up and on horseback.  They hurried away to the defence of Dunkerque, leaving behind them their artillery and a portion of their cavalry.  Conde, conjured them to intrench themselves whilst awaiting them; Don Juan, on the contrary, was for advancing on to the dunes and marching to meet the French army.  ‘You don’t reflect,’ said Conde ’that ground is fit only for infantry, and that of the French is more numerous and has seen more service.’  ‘I am persuaded,’ replied Don Juan, ’that they will not ever dare to look His Most Catholic Majesty’s army in the face.’  ’Ah! you don’t know M. de Turenne; no mistake is made with impunity in the presence of such a man as that.’  Don Juan persisted, and, in fact, made his way on to the ‘dunes.’  Next day, the 13th of June, Conde, more and more convinced of the danger, made fresh efforts to make him retire.  ‘Retire!’ cried Don Juan:  ’if the French dare fight, this will be the finest day that ever shone on the arms of His Most Catholic Majesty.’  ‘Very fine, certainly,’ answered Conde, ‘if you give orders to retire.’  Turenne put an end to this disagreement in the enemy’s camp.  Having made up his mind to give battle on the 14th, at daybreak, he sent word to the English general, Lockhart, by one of his officers who wanted at the same time to explain the commander-in-chief’s plan and his grounds for it.  ‘All right,’ answered Lockhart:  ’I leave it to M. de Turenne; he shall tell me his reasons after the battle, if he likes.’  A striking contrast between the manly discipline of English good sense and the silly blindness of Spanish pride.  Conde was not mistaken:  the issue of a battle begun under such auspices could not be doubtful.  ‘My lord,’ said he to the young Duke of Gloucester, who was serving in the Spanish army by the side of his brother, the Duke of York, ‘did you ever see a battle?’ ‘No, prince.’  ‘Well, then, you are going to see one lost.’  The battle of the Dunes was, in fact, totally lost by the Spaniards, after four hours’ very hard fighting, during which the English regiments carried bravely, and with heavy losses, the most difficult and the best defended position; all the officers of Lockhart’s regiment, except two, were killed or wounded before the end of the day; the Spanish army retired in disorder, leaving four thousand prisoners in the hands of the conqueror.  ’The enemy came to meet us,’ wrote Turenne, in the evening, to his wife; ’they were beaten, God be praised!