his way through the multitude of fugitives to the neighbourhood of Louvain, and there began to collect his scattered forces.  His character is not lowered by the anxiety which, at that moment, the most disastrous of his life, he felt for the two persons who were dearest to him.  As soon as he was safe, he wrote to assure his wife of his safety.451 In the confusion of the flight he had lost sight of Portland, who was then in very feeble health, and had therefore run more than the ordinary risks of war.  A short note which the King sent to his friend a few hours later is still extant.452 “Though I hope to see you this evening, I cannot help writing to tell you how rejoiced I am that you got off so well.  God grant that your health may soon be quite restored.  These are great trials, which he has been pleased to send me in quick succession.  I must try to submit to his pleasure without murmuring, and to deserve his anger less.”

His forces rallied fast.  Large bodies of troops which he had, perhaps imprudently, detached from his army while he supposed that Liege was the object of the enemy, rejoined him by forced marches.  Three weeks after his defeat he held a review a few miles from Brussels.  The number of men under arms was greater than on the morning of the bloody day of Landen; their appearance was soldierlike; and their spirit seemed unbroken.  William now wrote to Heinsius that the worst was over.  “The crisis,” he said, “has been a terrible one.  Thank God that it has ended thus.”  He did not, however, think it prudent to try at that time the event of another pitched field.  He therefore suffered the French to besiege and take Charleroy; and this was the only advantage which they derived from the most sanguinary battle fought in Europe during the seventeenth century.

The melancholy tidings of the defeat of Landen found England agitated by tidings not less melancholy from a different quarter.  During many months the trade with the Mediterranean Sea had been almost entirely interrupted by the war.  There was no chance that a merchantman from London or from Amsterdam would, if unprotected, reach the Pillars of Hercules without being boarded by a French privateer; and the protection of armed vessels was not easily to be obtained.  During the year 1691, great fleets, richly laden for Spanish, Italian and Turkish markets, had been gathering in the Thames and the Texel.  In February 1693, near four hundred ships were ready to start.  The value of the cargoes was estimated at several millions sterling.  Those galleons which had long been the wonder and envy of the world had never conveyed so precious a freight from the West Indies to Seville.  The English government undertook, in concert with the Dutch government, to escort the vessels which were laden with this great mass of wealth.  The French government was bent on intercepting them.