In one respect however the fate of the two fortresses was very different.  Mons was delivered up by its own inhabitants.  Namur might perhaps have been saved if the garrison had been as zealous and determined as the population.  Strange to say, in this place, so long subject to a foreign rule, there was found a patriotism resembling that of the little Greek commonwealths.  There is no reason to believe that the burghers cared about the balance of power, or had any preference for James or for William, for the Most Christian King or for the Most Catholic King.  But every citizen considered his own honour as bound up with the honour of the maiden fortress.  It is true that the French did not abuse their victory.  No outrage was committed; the privileges of the municipality were respected, the magistrates were not changed.  Yet the people could not see a conqueror enter their hitherto unconquered castle without tears of rage and shame.  Even the barefooted Carmelites, who had renounced all pleasures, all property, all society, all domestic affection, whose days were all fast days, who passed month after month without uttering a word, were strangely moved.  It was in vain that Lewis attempted to soothe them by marks of respect and by munificent bounty.  Whenever they met a French uniform they turned their heads away with a look which showed that a life of prayer, of abstinence and of silence had left one earthly feeling still unsubdued.307

This was perhaps the moment at which the arrogance of Lewis reached the highest point.  He had achieved the last and the most splendid military exploit of his life.  His confederated foes, English, Dutch and German, had, in their own despite, swelled his triumph, and had been witnesses of the glory which made their hearts sick.  His exultation was boundless.  The inscriptions on the medals which he struck to commemorate his success, the letters by which he enjoined the prelates of his kingdom to sing the Te Deum, were boastful and sarcastic.  His people, a people among whose many fine qualities moderation in prosperity cannot be reckoned, seemed for a time to be drunk with pride.  Even Boileau, hurried along by the prevailing enthusiasm, forgot the good sense and good taste to which he owed his reputation.  He fancied himself a lyric poet, and gave vent to his feelings in a hundred and sixty lines of frigid bombast about Alcides, Mars, Bacchus, Ceres, the lyre of Orpheus, the Thracian oaks and the Permessian nymphs.  He wondered whether Namur, had, like Troy, been built by Apollo and Neptune.  He asked what power could subdue a city stronger than that before which the Greeks lay ten years; and he returned answer to himself that such a miracle could be wrought only by Jupiter or by Lewis.  The feather in the hat of Lewis was the loadstar of victory.  To Lewis all things must yield, princes, nations, winds, waters.  In conclusion the poet addressed himself to the banded enemies of France, and tauntingly bade them carry back to their homes the tidings that Namur had been taken in their sight.  Before many months had elapsed both the boastful king and the boastful poet were taught that it is prudent as well as graceful to be modest in the hour of victory.