d broken before a vigorous and united counter-charge of Marlborough's
cavalry: the French horse backed, turned, bunched, fell into a panic; and
when the mass of their cavalry had fled in that panic, the French centre,
that is, the thin line of infantry still standing there, were ridden
through and destroyed.

They lay in heaps of dead or wounded, cut down with the sword, for the
most part unbroken in formation, their feet eastward whence the charge had
come, and their faces to the sky. Over and beyond those corpses rode the
full weight of Marlborough's cavalry, right through Tallard's left, which
was the centre of the French line, while Tallard vainly called for troops
to come out of Blenheim and check the fury, and as vainly sent for
reinforcements to come from Marcin on the left, which should try and dam
the flood that was now pouring through the bulwark of his ranks. On the
left, Marcin heard too late. As to the messenger to Blenheim on the right
he was taken prisoner; Tallard himself, hastening to that village, was
taken prisoner in turn.

What followed, at once something inevitable and picturesque, must not be
too extended in description for the purpose of a purely military recital.
The centre being pierced, while the left under Marcin and the Elector
still held its own against Eugene, the right, that is, the huddled
battalions--now twenty-seven--within Blenheim village, and the four
mounted regiments of dragoons therein, were the necessary victims of the
victory. The piercing of the centre had cut them off from all aid. They
were surrounded and summoned to surrender.

Clerambault, their commander, had already drowned himself in despair, or
had been drowned in a deplorable attempt at flight--at any rate, was dead.

Blausac, an honest man, the second in command, refused to surrender.
British cavalry rode round to prevent all egress from the village upon its
western side. Churchill brought up the mass of Marlborough's infantry.
Upon the side towards the Danube the churchyard was stormed and held.
Still Blausac would not ask for terms.

It looked for a moment, under the setting sun of that fatal day, as though
the 11,000 thus isolated within the streets of Blenheim would be massacred
for mere glory, for Blausac was still obstinate. A subordinate officer,
who saw that all was lost, harangued the troops into surrender, and the
last business of the great battle was over.

[Illustration: Plate II. _The Battle of Bl