Hollanders, controlled from a distance by the grand pensionary Heinsius.  The imperialists were threatening Elsass; the weather was fearful; letters had been written to Chamillard to say that the inundations alone would be enough to prevent the enemy from investing Fort Louis.  “There is nothing so nice as a map,” replied Villars; “with a little green and blue one puts under water all that one wishes but a general who goes and examines it, as I have done, finds in divers places distances of a mile where these little rivers, which are supposed to inundate the country, are quite snug in their natural bed, larger than usual, but not enough to hinder the enemy in any way in the world from making bridges.”  Fort Louis was surrounded, and Villars found himself obliged to retire upon Strasburg, whence he protected Elsass during the whole campaign of 1706.

The defeat of Hochstett, in 1704, had been the first step down the ladder; the defeat of Ramillies, on the 23d of May, 1706, was the second and the fatal rung.  The king’s personal attachment to Marshal Villeroi blinded him as to his military talents.  Beaten in Italy by Prince Eugene, Villeroi, as presumptuous as he was incapable, hoped to retrieve himself against Marlborough.  “The whole army breathed nothing but battle; I know it was your Majesty’s own feeling,” wrote Villeroi to the king, after the defeat:  “could I help committing myself to a course which I considered expedient?” The marshal had deceived himself as regarded his advantages, as well as the confidence of his troops; there had been eight hours’ fighting at Hochstett, inflicting much damage upon the enemy; at Ramillies, the Bavarians took to their heels at the end of an hour; the French, who felt that they were badly commanded, followed their example; the rout was terrible, and the disorder inexpressible.  Villeroi kept recoiling before the enemy, Marlborough kept advancing; two thirds of Belgium and sixteen strong places were lost, when Louis XIV. sent Chamillard into the Low Countries; it was no longer the time when Louvois made armies spring from the very soil, and when Vauban prepared the defence of Dunkerque.  The king recalled Villeroi, showing him to the last unwavering kindness.  “There is no more luck at our age, marshal,” was all he said to Villeroi, on his arrival at Versailles.  “He was nothing more than an old wrinkled balloon, out of which all the gas that inflated it has gone,” says St. Simon:  “he went off to Paris and to Villeroi, having lost all the varnish that made him glitter, and having nothing more to show but the under-stratum.”

The king summoned Vendome, to place him at the head of the army of Flanders, “in hopes of restoring to it the spirit of vigor and audacity natural to the French nation,” as he himself says.  For two years past, amidst a great deal of ill-success, Vendome had managed to keep in check Victor-Amadeo and Prince Eugene, in spite of the embarrassment caused him by his brother the grand prior, the Duke of La Feuillade, Chamillard’s son-in-law, and the orders which reached him directly from the king; he had gained during his two campaigns the name of taker of towns, and had just beaten the Austrians in the battle of Cascinato.  Prince Eugene had, however, crossed the Adige and the Po when Vendome left Italy.