Kitabı oku: «The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars», sayfa 8
Chapter 10: The Battle Of The Dykes
For some time after his duel with Captain Muller, it is probable that the little cornet was, after Marlborough himself, the most popular man in the British army in Flanders. He, however, bore his honours quietly, shrinking from notice, and seldom going down into the town. Any mention of the duel was painful to him; for although he considered that he was perfectly justified in taking up the quarrel forced upon his regiment, yet he sincerely regretted that he should have been obliged to kill a man, however dangerous and obnoxious, in cold blood.
Two days after the duel he received a letter from his grandfather. It was only the second he had received. In the previous letter Colonel Holliday alluded to something which he had said in a prior communication, and Rupert had written back to say that no such letter had come to hand. The answer ran as follows:
"My dear Grandson–Your letter has duly come to hand. I regret to find that my first to you miscarried, and by comparing dates I think that it must have been lost in the wreck of the brig Flora, which was lost in a tempest on her way to Holland a few days after I wrote. This being so, you are ignorant of the changes which have taken place here, and which affect yourself in no slight degree.
"The match between your lady mother and Sir William Brownlow is broken off. This took place just after you sailed for the wars. It was brought about by our friend, Monsieur Dessin. This gentleman–who is, although I know not his name, a French nobleman of title and distinction–received, about the time you left, the news that he might shortly expect to hear that the decree which had sent him into exile was reversed. Some little time later a compatriot of his came down to stay with him. Monsieur Dessin, who I know cherished ill feeling against Sir William for the insult which his son had passed upon his daughter, and for various belittling words respecting that young lady which Sir William had in his anger permitted himself to use in public, took occasion when he was riding through the streets of Derby, accompanied by his friends, Lord Pomeroy and Sir John Hawkes, gentlemen of fashion and repute, to accost him. Sir William swore at him as a French dancing master; whereupon Monsieur Dessin at once challenged him to a duel. Sir William refused with many scornful words to meet a man of such kind, whereupon Monsieur Dessin, drawing Lord Pomeroy to him, in confidence disclosed his name and quality, to which his compatriot–also a French nobleman–testified, and of which he offered to produce documents and proofs. They did then adjourn to a tavern, where they called for a private room, to talk the matter over out of earshot of the crowd; and after examining the proofs, Lord Pomeroy and Sir John Hawkes declared that Sir William Brownlow could not refuse the satisfaction which Monsieur Dessin demanded.
"It has always been suspected that Sir William was a man of small courage, though of overbearing manner, and he was mightily put to when he heard that he must fight with a man whom he justly regarded as being far more than his match. So craven did he become, indeed, that the gentlemen with him did not scruple to express their disgust loudly. Monsieur Dessin said that, unless Sir William did afford him satisfaction, he would trounce him publicly as a coward, but that he had one other alternative to offer. All were mightily surprised when he stated that this alternative was that he should write a letter to Mistress Holliday renouncing all claim to her hand. This Sir William for a time refused to do, blustering much; but finally, having no stomach for a fight, and fearing the indignity of a public whipping, he did consent so to do; and Monsieur Dessin having called for paper and pens, the letter was then written, and the four gentlemen signed as witnesses. The party then separated, Lord Pomeroy and Sir John Hawkes riding off without exchanging another word with Sir William Brownlow.
"Your lady mother was in a great taking when she received the letter, and learned the manner in which it had come to be written. Monsieur Dessin left the town, with his daughter, two days later. He came over to take farewell of me, and expressed himself with great feeling and heartiness as to the kindness which he was good enough to say that I had shown him. I assured him, as you may believe, that the action he had forced Mistress Holliday's suitor to take left me infinitely his debtor.
"He promised to write to me from France, whither he was about to return. He said that he regretted much that a vow he had sworn to keep his name unknown in England, save and except his honour should compel him to disclose it, prevented him from telling it; but that he would in the future let me know it. After it was known that he had left, Sir William Brownlow again attempted to make advances to your lady mother; but she, who lacks not spirit, repulsed him so scornfully that all fear of any future entanglement in that quarter is at an end; at the which I have rejoiced mightily, although the Chace, now that you have gone, is greatly changed to me.
"Farmer Parsons sends his duty to you, and his love to Hugh. I think that it would not be ill taken if, in a short time, you were to write to Mistress Holliday. Make no mention of her broken espousal, which is a subject upon which she cares not to touch. The Earl of Marlborough has been good enough to write me a letter speaking in high terms of you. This I handed to her to read, and although she said no word when she handed it back, I could see that she was much moved.
"My pen runs not so fast as it did. I will therefore now conclude.
"YOUR LOVING GRANDFATHER."
This letter gave great pleasure to Rupert, not because it restored to him the succession of the estates of the Chace, for of that he thought but little, but because his mother was saved from a match which would, he felt sure, have been an unhappy one for her.
The winter passed off quietly, and with the spring the two armies again took the field. The campaign of 1803 was, like its predecessor, marred by the pusillanimity and indecision of the Dutch deputies, who thwarted all Marlborough's schemes for bringing the French to a general engagement, and so ruined the English general's most skillful plans, that the earl, worn out by disappointment and disgust, wrote to the Queen, praying to be relieved of his command and allowed to retire into private life, and finally only remained at his post at his mistress's earnest entreaty.
The campaign opened with the siege of Bonn, a strongly fortified town held by the French, and of great importance to them, as being the point by which they kept open communication between France and their strong army in Germany. Marlborough himself commanded the siege operations, having under him forty battalions, sixty squadrons, and a hundred guns. General Overkirk, who, owing to the death of the Earl of Athlone, was now second in command, commanded the covering army, which extended from Liege to Bonn.
The siege commenced on the 3rd of May, and with such vigour was it carried on that on the 9th the fort on the opposite side of the Rhine was carried by storm; and as from this point the works defending the town could all be taken in reverse, the place surrendered on the 5th; the garrison, 3600 strong, being permitted by the terms of capitulation to retire to Luxemburg.
Marshal Villeroi, who commanded the French army on the frontier, finding that he could give no aid to Bonn, advanced against Maestrich, which he hoped to surprise, before Overkirk could arrive to its aid. On the way, however, he had to take the town of Tangres, which was held by two battalions of infantry only. These, however, defended themselves with astonishing bravery against the efforts of a whole army, and for twenty-eight hours of continuous fighting arrested the course of the enemy. At the end of that time they were forced to surrender, but the time gained by their heroic defence afforded time for Overkirk to bring up his army, and when Villeroi arrived near Maestrich, he found the allies already there, and so strongly posted that although his force was fully twice as strong as theirs, he did not venture to attack.
Marlborough, upon the fall of Bonn, marched with the greatest expedition to the assistance of his colleague. His cavalry reached Maestrich on the 21st, his infantry three days later. On the 26th of May he broke up the camp and advanced to undertake the grand operation of the siege of Antwerp. The operation was to be undertaken by a simultaneous advance of several columns. Marlborough himself with the main wing was to confront Marshal Villeroi. General Spaar was to attack that part of the French lines which lay beyond the Scheldt. Cohorn was to force the passage of that river in the territory of Hulst, and unite Spaar's attack with that of Obdam, who with twenty-one battalions and sixteen squadrons was to advance from Bergen op Zoom.
The commencement of this operation was well conducted. On the night of the 26th Cohorn passed the Scheldt, and the next morning he and Spaar made a combined attack on that part of the French lines against which they had been ordered to act, and carried them after severe fighting and the loss of 1200 men. Upon the following day the Earl of Marlborough, riding through the camp, saw Rupert Holliday, standing at the door of his tent. Beckoning him to him, he said:
"Would you like a ride round Antwerp, Master Holliday? I have a letter which I desire carried to General Obdam, whose force is at Eckeron on the north of the city."
Upon Rupert saying that he should like it greatly, the earl bade him be at his quarters in an hour's time.
"There is the dispatch," he said, when Rupert called upon him. "You will give this to the general himself. I consider his position as dangerous, for Marshal Villeroi may throw troops into the town, and in that case the Marquis Bedmar may fall in great force upon any of our columns now lying around him. I have warned Obdam of his danger, and have begged him to send back his heavy baggage, to take up a strong position, and if the enemy advance in force to fall back to Bergen op Zoom. Should the general question you, you can say that you are aware of the terms of the dispatch, and that I had begged you to assure the general that my uneasiness on his account was considerable."
The general then pointed out to Rupert on a map the route that he should take so as to make a sweep round Antwerp, and warned him to use every precaution, and to destroy the dispatch if there should be danger of his being captured.
"Am I to return at once, sir?"
"No," the earl said. "If all goes well we shall in three days invest the place, advancing on all sides, and you can rejoin your corps when the armies unite."
Rupert's horse was already saddled on his return, and Hugh was in readiness to accompany him as his orderly.
It was a thirty miles ride, and it was evening before he reached Eckeron, having seen no enemy on his line of route.
He was at once conducted to the quarters of the Dutch general, who received him politely, and read the dispatch which he had brought. It did not strike Rupert that he was much impressed with its contents, but he made no remark, and simply requested one of his staff to see to Rupert's wants, and to have a tent pitched for him.
He spent a pleasant evening with the Dutch general's staff, most of whom could talk French, while Hugh was hospitably entertained by the sergeants of the staff.
The next morning the tents were struck, and the heavy baggage was, in accordance with Lord Marlborough's orders, sent to the fortress of Bergen op Zoom. But, to Rupert's surprise and uneasiness, no attempt was made to carry out the second part of the instruction contained in the dispatch.
The day passed quietly, and at night the party were very merry round a campfire. At eight o'clock next morning a horseman rode into camp with the news that the French were attacking the rear, and that the army was cut off from the Scheldt!
The Earl of Marlborough's prevision had proved correct. The French marshals had determined to take advantage of their central position, and to crush one of their enemy's columns. On the evening of the 29th, Marshal Villeroi detached Marshal Boufflers with thirty companies of grenadiers and thirty squadrons of horse. These marching all night reached Antwerp at daybreak without interruption, and uniting with the force under the Marquis Bedmar, issued out 30,000 strong to attack Obdam. Sending off detached columns, who moved round, and–unseen by the Dutch, who acted with as great carelessness as if their foes had been 500 miles away–he took possession of the roads on the dykes leading not only to Fort Lille on the Scheldt, but to Bergen op Zoom, and fell suddenly upon the Dutch army on all sides.
Scarcely had the messenger ridden into Eckeron, when a tremendous roar of musketry broke out in all quarters, and the desperate position into which the supineness of their general had suffered them to fall, was apparent to all.
In a few minutes the confusion was terrible. Rupert and Hugh hastily saddled their horses, and had just mounted when General Obdam with twenty troopers rode past at full gallop.
"Where can he be going?" Rupert said. "He is not riding towards either of the points attacked."
"It seems to me that he is bolting, Master Rupert, just flying by some road the French have not yet occupied."
"Impossible!" Rupert said.
But it was so, and the next day the runaway general himself brought the news of his defeat to the League, announcing that he had escaped with thirty horse, and that the rest of his army was destroyed. It is needless to say that General Obdam never afterwards commanded a Dutch army in the field.
The second part of the news which he brought the Hague was not correct. General Schlangenberg, the second in command, at once assumed the command. The Dutch rallied speedily from their surprise, and the advancing columns of the enemy were soon met with a desperate resistance. In front General Boufflers attacked with twenty battalions of French troops, headed by the grenadiers he had brought with him, while a strong Spanish force barred the retreat. Under such circumstances many troops would at once have laid down their arms; but such a thought never occurred to the Dutchmen of Schlangenberg's army.
While a portion of this force opposed Boufflers' troops pressing on their front, the rest threw themselves against those who barred their retreat to Fort Lille. Never was there more desperate fighting. Nowhere could ground have been selected more unsuited for a battlefield.
It was by the roads alone running upon the dykes above the general level of the country the troops could advance or retreat, and it was upon these that the heads of the heavy columns struggled for victory.
There was little firing. The men in front had no time to reload, those behind could not fire because their friends were before them. It was a fierce hand-to-hand struggle, such as might have taken place on the same ground in the middle ages, before gunpowder was in use. Bayonets and clubbed muskets, these were the weapons on both sides, while dismounted troopers–for horses were worse than useless here, mixed up with the infantry–fought with swords. On the roads, on the sides of the slopes, waist deep in the water of the ditches, men fought hand-to-hand. Schlangenberg commanded at the spot where the Dutchmen obstinately and stubbornly resisted the fury of the French onslaught, and even the chosen grenadiers of France failed to break down that desperate defence.
All day the battle raged. Rupert having no fixed duty rode backwards and forwards along the roads, now watching how went the defence against the French attack, now how the Dutch in vain tried to press back the Spaniards and open a way of retreat. Late in the afternoon he saw a party of the staff officers pressing towards the rear on foot.
"We are going to try to get to the head of the column," one said to Rupert. "We must force back the Spaniards, or we are all lost."
"I will join you," Rupert said, leaping from his horse.
"Hugh, give me my pistols and take your own; leave the horses, and come with me."
It took upwards of an hour to make their way along the dyke, sometimes pushing forward between the soldiers, sometimes wading in the ditch, but at last they reached the spot where, over ground high heaped with dead, the battle raged as fiercely as ever. With a shout of encouragement to the men the party of officers threw themselves in front and joined in the fray. Desperate as the fighting had been before, it increased in intensity now. The Dutch, cheered by the leading of their officers, pressed forward with renewed energy. The Spaniards fought desperately, nor indeed could they have retreated, from the crowd of their comrades behind. The struggle was desperate; bayonet clashed against bayonet, heavy muskets descended with a showering thud on head and shoulders, swords flashed, men locked together struggled for life. Those who fell were trampled to death, and often those in front were so jammed by the pressure, that their arms were useless, and they could do nought but grasp at each other's throats, until a blow or a bayonet thrust from behind robbed one or other of his adversary. Slowly, very slowly, the Dutch were forcing their way forward, but it was by the destruction of the head of their enemy's column, and not by any movement of retreat on their part.
After a few minutes of desperate struggles, in which twice Hugh saved his life by shooting a man on the point of running him through with a bayonet, Rupert found himself on the edge of the road. He drew out of the fight for an instant, and then making his way back until he came to a Dutch colonel, he pointed out to him that the sole hope was for a strong body of men to descend into the ditch, to push forward there, and to open fire on the flank of the enemy's column, so as to shake its solidity.
The officer saw the advice was good; and a column, four abreast, entered the ditches on each side, and pressed forward. The water was some inches above their waists, but they shifted their pouches to be above its level, and soon passing the spot where the struggle raged as fiercely as ever on the dyke above, they opened fire on the flanks of the Spaniards. These in turn fired down, and the carnage on both sides was great. Fresh Dutchmen, however, pressed forward to take the place of those that fell; and the solidity of the Spaniards' column being shaken, the head of the Dutch body began to press them back.
The impetus once given was never checked. Slowly, very slowly the Dutch pushed forward, until at last the Spaniards were driven off the road, and the line of retreat was open to the Dutch army. Then the rear guard began to fall back before the French; and fighting every step of the way, the last of the Dutch army reached Fort Lille long after night had fallen.
Their loss in this desperate hand-to-hand fighting had been 4000 killed and wounded, besides 600 prisoners and six guns. The French and Spaniards lost 3000 killed and wounded.
It was well for Rupert that Hugh kept so close to him, for nearly the last shot fired by the enemy struck him, and he fell beneath the water, when his career would have been ended had not Hugh seized him and lifted him ashore. So much had the gallantry of the little cornet attracted the attention and admiration of the Dutch, that plenty of volunteers were glad to assist Hugh to carry him to Fort Lille. There during the night a surgeon examined his wound, and pronounced that the ball had broken two ribs, and had then glanced out behind, and that if all went well, in a month he would be about again.
The numbers of wounded were far beyond the resources of Fort Lille to accommodate, and all were upon the following day put into boats, and distributed through the various Dutch riverine towns, in order that they might be well tended and cared for. This was a far better plan than their accumulation in large military hospitals, where, even with the greatest care, the air is always impure, and the deaths far more numerous than when the men are scattered, and can have good nursing and fresh air.
Rupert, with several other officers, was sent to Dort, at that time one of the great commercial cities of Holland. Rupert, although tightly bandaged, and forbidden to make any movement, was able to take an interest in all that was going on.
"There is quite a crowd on the quay, Hugh."
"Yes, sir; I expect most of these Dutch officers have friends and acquaintances here. Besides, as yet the people here cannot tell who have fallen, and must be anxious indeed for news."
The crowd increased greatly by the time the boat touched the quay; and as the officers stepped or were carried ashore, each was surrounded by a group of anxious inquirers.
Hugh, standing by his master's stretcher, felt quite alone in the crowd–as, seeing his British uniform, and the shake of his head at the first question asked, none tried to question him–and looked round vaguely at the crowd, until some soldiers should come to lift the stretcher.
Suddenly he gave a cry of surprise, and to Rupert's astonishment left his side, and sprang through the crowd. With some difficulty he made his way to a young lady, who was standing with an elderly gentleman on some steps a short distance back from the crowd. She looked surprised at the approach of this British soldier, whose eyes were eagerly fixed on her; but not till Hugh stepped in front of her and spoke did she remember him.
"Mistress Von Duyk," he said, "my master is here wounded; and as he has not a friend in the place, and I saw you, I made bold to speak to you."
"Oh! I am sorry," the girl said, holding out her hand to Hugh.
"Papa, this is one of the gentlemen who rescued me, as I told you, when Sir Richard Fulke tried to carry me off."
The gentleman, who had looked on in profound astonishment, seized Hugh's hand.
"I am indeed glad to have an opportunity of thanking you.
"Hasten home, Maria, and prepare a room. I will go and have this good friend brought to our house."
