The trophies of the battle of Ramilies were immense; but they were even exceeded by its results. The loss of the French in killed and wounded was 7000 men, and, in addition to that, 6000 prisoners were taken. With the desertion in the days after the battle, they were weakened by full 15,000 men. They lost fifty-two guns, their whole baggage and pontoon train, all their caissons, and eighty standards wrested from them in fair fight. Among the prisoners were the Princes de Soubise and Rohan, and a son of Marshal Tallard. The victors lost 1066 killed, and 2567 wounded, in all, 3633. The great and unusual proportion of killed to the wounded, shows how desperate and hand to hand, as in ancient battles, the fighting had been. Overkirk nobly supported the Duke in this action, and not only repeatedly charged at the head of his horse, but continued on horseback in the pursuit till one in the morning, when he narrowly escaped death from a Bavarian officer whom he had made prisoner, and given back his sword, saying, "You are a gentleman, and may keep it." The base wretch no sooner got it into his hand than he made a lounge at the Dutch general, but fortunately missed his blow, and was immediately cut down for his treachery by Overkirk's orderly. The immediate result of this splendid victory, was the acquisition of nearly all Austrian Flanders--Brussels, Louvain, Mechlin, Alort, Luise, and nearly all the great towns of Brabant, opened their gates immediately after. Ghent and Bruges speedily followed the example; and Daun and Oudenarde also soon declared for the Austrian cause. Of all the towns in Flanders, Antwerp, Ostend, Nieuport, and Dunkirk alone held out for the French; and to their reduction the Duke immediately turned his attention. The public transports in Holland knew no bounds; they much exceeded what had been felt for the victory of Blenheim, for that only saved Germany, but this delivered themselves. The wretched jealousy which had so long thwarted the Duke, as it does every other really great man, was fairly overpowered in "the electric shock of a nation's gratitude." In England, the rejoicings were equally enthusiastic, and a solemn thanksgiving, at which the Queen attended in person at St Paul's, gave a willing vent to the general thankfulness. "Faction and the French," as Bolingbroke expressed it,[11] were all that Marlborough had to fear, and he had fairly conquered both. But the snake was scotched, not killed, and he replenished his venom, and prepared future stings even during the roar of triumphant cannon, and the festive blaze of rejoicing cities.[12]