Abigail's Cousin (16 page)

But now their intrepid boldness has to be
paid for as the French cavalry slash at the unarmed gunners, many
stripped to the waist and all they can do is run for their very
lives pursued by the faster horsemen who with a single slash open
up gaping wounds on naked shoulders and necks. In one encounter a
gunner carries on running his head rolling beside him as his neck
spouts blood. Yet that very act will be paid for as Churchill's
cavalry has reached the guns having had to climb the incline to
reach the enemy but now the enemy horsemen suffer casualties as the
English dragoons slash, thrust
and decapitate, in their turn.

Not a single
French hussar escapes and as Churchill's men withdraw, the duke
sends Parker to Colonel Blood to commiserate and apologise for
causing his gunners so much carnage, but the professional Blood
will have none of it. He approved the dispositions which brought
decisive results by wrecking the French defensive palisades. The
battle now is raging inside the village as Orkney leads his cavalry
through the huge gaps in the enemy palisades to career along
cobbled roads into the village square. His plan is to bring cannon
into the village itself but first he must clear the low houses of
enemy musketeers. He orders attack after attack and as more men
pour into the village, he is beginning to get the upper hand, at
least in one quarter of Blentheim.

The duke is
highly pleased. The battle is going in the way he envisaged and
even when the enemy has mounted counter-attacks, each has been
repulsed. He decides to leave the left flank in the capable hands
of General Churchill, and with Lord Orkney boxing in the French at
Blentheim, to make his way towards his ally, Prince Eugene's
position opposite Oberglau. As the duke canters towards the right
flank, his ever faithful Captain Parker was at his side observing
the angle of the sun's elevation and so they deduced the time of
day comparing it with the duke's pocket fob. This self-same sun
they observed was also slanting its rays over the heads of the
enemy command on the brow of the ridge overlooking where the duke
and his aide were cantering.

Marshall
Tallard had left his command post in the mill finding it too hot
inside and curiously divorced from the action upon both his left
and right flanks. At his side was the Comte de Merode-Westerloo,
whom le marechal addressed:

"Que
pensez-vous monsieur le comte de notre position?" who answered to
flatter:

"Nos positions
sont imprenable, monsieur le marechal."

Tallard
stroked both wings of his moustache and rather smugly accepted his
junior's praise:

"Ce fois-ci le
Malbrouk a rencontre sa taille a lutter," and the count confirmed
his commander's verdict with:

"Le marquis de Clerambault is more than
holding his own in Blentheim. Did you see how the enemy was forced
to withdra
w?"

Tallard was equally upbeat about his left
flank and still ignorant of Orkney's breakthrough
con
firmed the marquis'
assessment:

"Likewise in
Oberglau, monsieur; the Prince is also making no impression so our
defences our holding up well on both flanks." One disadvantage to
the Franco-Bavarians is evident: Intelligence about each and every
event is not reaching le marechal to enable him to react. The comte
pursues his obsequious line:

"When you give the order for the massed
escadrons to sweep down on their centre, monsieur, they will sweep
all before them."

"Indeed,
monsieur, le comte," answered Tallard complacently:

"Lord Churchill will get his first shock
on his left flank. He cannot see our escadrons hidden behind
Blentheim. Les Cuirassiers will cut his cavalry to
pieces."

Le comte was
enthusiastic: "Bravo, monsieur, a brilliant tactic. He will be
thrown back into the Nebel. The day is almost ours."

Tallard allows
him to finish before taking a garbled message from a mounted
messenger. As he listens his face clouds over not daring to meet le
comte's eyes. Both are nonplussed by the news. Tallard puts his
glass to his eye and sweeps it across the valley looking for any
sign of le Malbrouk but he can find none. His face is etched with
concern.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

As Marlborough
rounded the bluffs which had impeded his fellow commander taking up
position opposite Oberglau, he spotted a fierce skirmish as
major-general Wood in attempting to cross the Nebel which was
narrower here and easier to ford, came under fire from a detachment
of enemy musketeers who had boldly abseiled down the bluff and were
now firing at the troops and cavalry in the river and were causing
many casualties so the duke sent Parker back post-haste to general
Willoughby, or his second-in-command, for however many squadrons
could be spared to put the tirailleurs to the sword, or to
flight.

The duke
postponed his reconnaissance to the Prince and rode back in
Parker's wake to wait for him and was saddened by the news that in
attempting to retrieve the wounded brigadier Rowe, both his
lieutenant-colonel and major had been killed. Also he learned of
another reverse with a happy outcome in that General Churchill in
attempting to get more of his squadrons past the supremely
difficult fork in the Nebel, enemy escadrons seeing the
vulnerability of infantry unprotected by cavalry had charged
scattering Lord Orkney's men who retired in some disorder. The
enemy captured a colour but the cheering that went up from the
French was heard above the noise of battle by some Hessian cavalry
who having forded the Nebel were forming up, but were exhilarated
by the chance to recover the lost colour, and without any direct
command, quickly formed into a makeshift squadron and charged the
'victorious' French and not only forced them to retreat but also
retrieved the lost colour.

Having rescued
the flag sporting the emblem of a castle, and crossed swords, the
Hessian Uhlan looked around and spotting the duke scanning the
battlefield with his glass, he galloped over planting it
triumphantly before him who indicated for Parker to accept it
congratulating the man and his brave colleagues over the flag's
recovery. The Uhlan was dishevelled and his face grimed with
mud-caked sweat and laughing and shouting in German which Parker
scarcely understood but instead of words, Parker made gestures
purporting to the downing of flagons of ale which impressed the
German who followed suit to much raucous laughter before riding
back to his comrades.

The duke told
Parker he would have promoted him then and there but had no
authority to do such a thing which might be misunderstood by the
Prince of Hessen commanding their troops. He continued to scan
Blentheim with his glass giving his aide a running commentary:

"Gad
, Parker. The French have muskets everywhere. They're
poking out of windows, cracks in doors, holes in walls, as well as
through the palisades and hedges. Twixt each farmhouse there's a
wall of farm-carts, barn-doors, furniture of every kind. Our men
cannot surround a farmhouse without running a gauntlet of
cross-fire from within."

Parker
murmured: "I wonder what happened to the villagers." The duke
continued with his commentary:

"There's my Lord Cutts, in the thick of
it."

"Living up to
his nickname, no doubt, sir."

"The Salamander. Gad, he hacks to right
and left. It makes no difference, man or wood. It's either blood or
splinters. It's mostly wood but he is so fierce in his onslaught
that they recoil at his appro
ach. I don't wonder at the French, they're only mortal.
Cutts is a truly awesome sight."

"We need a few
more salamanders, sir. Have we taken any farmhouses?"

The duke continued: "My lord is ordering
the men inside so he must have but it's a slow business as each
house must be assaulted one by one.
It's a bloody business."

"Sir, look!" screamed Parker, "I can see
cavalry appr
oaching from
behind the village!"

The duke aimed
his glass: "You're right Parker. Well spotted. See how the French
are desperately trying to remove their own obstacles to allow their
cavalry through. Some can't wait and are leaping the obstacles and
landing on top of them."

"Has Lord Cutts seen them yet, my lord?"
asked a frantic Parker frustrated at his powerlessness at this
distance to do anything. The duke lowered his glass:

"My lord Cutts
has signalled the Bluecoats. They're running at the double. Can you
hear that thunder of hooves?"

He re-sighted
his glass: "Hauptmann Frick is lining up the Bluecoats. He's a cool
devil. His sword is raised. Wait for it. Wait for it. Thunder
drowns all other sounds. It's down." Moments later they hear a
crackled of musketry, then seconds later there's a second volley.
Now he hears the whinnying of horses and can only imagine the
slaughter as musket balls strike both man and beast. Then there's a
third fusillade of fire.

"Gad!" says
Marlborough, "It's slaughter" and momentarily puts down the glass
but then, as though mesmerised by the bloody event happening
remotely from them, like a drug he wants more of, he lifts it again
to his eye, adding excitedly: "The Bluecoats are running with fixed
bayonets. Some are falling. The French must be firing at them from
the palisades."

Parker's
thoughts are still with the Bluecoats’ rate of fire and as if he
has not heard the duke's latest commentary, says: "Their rate of
firing, my lord. That did the trick. I didn't know the Hessians had
the new gun."

The duke had
put down his glass. "There's no more to see. At the sight of those
bayonets, the French turned and ran." And then as if he had not
heard Parker, asked: "You were saying Parker?"

"The
Bluecoats’ rate of firing, my lord." replied his aide to which the
duke answered: "Cadogan had a thousand wheellocks left over. I gave
them to the Prince. It was a good investment."

The duke put the glass to his eye again
and Parker heard his distressed voice: "Poor Frick! It seems
a French ball brought him
down."

"My lord!" It was Parker. He was pointing
to their right and the duke trained his glass upon a forested area
where a large number of French escadrons were forming up.
Marlborough observed them for a
moment, and lowered his glass.

"What do you
think, Parker?" he asked his aide who did not answer but scanned
the more distant area of the Nebel where more of Churchill's forces
were crossing the Nebel. He said in an urgent tone:

"I can see no
infantry, sir, to protect them once they've crossed." And as if in
answer to his words both men heard the awful thunder of hooves as
the French escadrons launched themselves recklessly down the
bluffs. The cavalry crossing the Nebel seemed completely oblivious
of the French.

Marlborough
looked towards Blenheim where Lord Orkney and Lord Cutts were fully
engaged. No help from that quarter. Helplessly he trained his eye
on the ridge where a group of senior French officers were observing
their own cavalry. The duke recognised the comte de
Merode-Westerloo.

----------------------------------------------------------------

The comte
turns to his commander-in-chief: "Voyez monsieur, plus escadrons
anglaises essaient de traverser le fleuve," getting the reply from
le marechal: "Je les ai vu il y a longtemps." Marshal Tallard
points and says:

"If you look
to your right you can see our response."

The comte does
so excitedly shouting: "Monsieur l'Electeur has also seen it. What
do you think, your grace?"

The Elector
responds: "It seems the English cannot escape."

As the senior
officers watch the drama unfold below which the duke of Marlborough
had also seen developing without being able to help, Tallard asks
his Bavarian colleague: "How is the situation in Oberglau,
monsieur?"

"I came away
for some excitement. His Excellency Prince Eugene has made three
attacks which we have repulsed with heavy losses on his side. Our
front is rock-firm."

More French
escadrons plunge down the bluffs to engage the English and Danish
cavalry at the Nebel, and some have even, somewhat rashly, plunged
into the river to cross it and take their enemy in the rear, but
they are experiencing great difficulty finding purchase for the
ground on either bank is a morass, and to the horror of the French
and Bavarian commanders, the French horsemen are falling down
unable to rise whereas the allied riders direct their horses to
where there is firmer ground. Cadogan's preparations are paying a
dividend.

The comte
suddenly shouts abruptly to Tallard: "See, monsieur, on the far
left. The English have a causeway further along and are wheeling
behind the gens-d'armes who cannot escape the bog. They are hemmed
in. It's a massacre."

The Elector is also stunned: "The English
are on firm ground while our horses flounder.
How can this be?"

There are not only English but a large
Danish contingent and both take advantage of their knowledge denied
the French attackers of where to lead their horses without sinking
into the morass in which the French are floundering. There is
little action as the allied cavalrymen simply watch the struggles
of their enemies. Many of the French hussars are taken prisoner.
Tallard's extra escadrons which on firm ground might have
annihilated the Danish and English retreat thanking their luck that
they saw the
danger
before it was too late.