Although the sun had not set when Rupert and Hugh rode into the
forest on their return journey, they had not been long among the
trees when the light began to fade. The foliage met overhead, and
although above the sky seemed still bright, the change was
distinctly felt in the gloom of the forest. The ride had been a
long one, and Rupert feared to press his horse, consequently they
wound but slowly up the hill, and by the time they reached its
crest, it was night.
"This is unpleasant, Hugh, for I can scarcely see my horse's head;
and as there are several tracks crossing this, we are likely enough
to go wrong."
"I think, Master Rupert, we had better dismount and lead our
horses. We shall break our necks if they tread on a stone on this
rocky path."
For half an hour they walked on in silence, then Hugh said, "I
think we are going wrong, Master Rupert, for we are not descending
now; and we ought to have been at the foot of the hill, if we had
been right, by this time."
"I am afraid you are right, Hugh. In that case we had better make
up our minds to halt where we are till morning. It is no use
wandering on, and knocking up the horses. It seems rather lighter
just ahead, as if the trees opened a little; we may find a better
place to halt."
In another minute they stood in a small clearing. The stars were
shining brightly; and after the dense darkness of the forest, they
were able to see clearly in the open. It was a clearing of some
sixty feet diameter, and in the middle stood, by the path, a hut.
"Stay where you are, Hugh, with the horses. I will go quietly
forward. If the place is occupied, we will go back. We can't expect
hospitality in Bavaria."
The hut proved to be empty. The door hung loosely on its hinges,
and clearly the place was deserted.
Rupert called Hugh up, and fastening the horses outside, the lads
entered.
"Shall we light a fire, Master Rupert?"
"No, Hugh; at any rate unless we see that the shutters and door
will close tightly. There may be scores of deserters in the wood,
and we had better run no risk. The night is not cold. We will just
sit down against the wall till morning. Before we do, though, we
will look round, outside the hut. If it has been lately inhabited,
there may be a few vegetables or something the horses can munch."
Nothing, however, was found.
"We will take it by turns to watch, Hugh. I will take first watch;
when I am sleepy I will wake you."
Without a word Hugh unstrapped his cloak, felt for a level piece of
ground in the hut, and with his cloak for his pillow, was soon
asleep.
Rupert sat down on the log of a tree, that lay outside the hut, and
leaned against its wall. For two hours he sat, and thought over the
adventures and the prospects of the war, and then gradually a
drowsiness crept over him, and he fell fast asleep.
His waking was not pleasant. Indeed, he was hardly aware that he
was awake; for he first came to the consciousness that he was lying
on the ground, with a number of wild-looking figures around him,
some of whom bore torches, while Hugh, held by two of them, was
close by.
It was Hugh's voice, indeed, that first recalled him to a
consciousness of what had happened.
"Master Rupert, Master Rupert!" he exclaimed. "Tell me that you are
not killed!"
"No, I am not killed, Hugh," Rupert said, raising himself on his
elbow. "But it would have served me right if I had been, for going
to sleep on my watch."
One of their captors now stooped down, seized Rupert by the
shoulder, and gave him a rough kick to intimate that he was to get
up.
"I am sorry, Hugh, that I have sacrificed your life as well as my
own by my folly, for I have no doubt these fellows mean to kill us.
They are charcoal burners, as rough a lot as there exists in
Europe, and now naturally half mad at the flames they see all over
the land."
In the meantime, a dialogue was going on between their captors as
to the best and most suitable method of putting them to death.
"They are fond of burning houses," one said at last, "let them try
how they like it. Let us make a blaze here, and toss them in, and
let them roast in their own shells."
The proposal was received with a shout of approval. Some of them
scattered in the forest, and soon returned laden with dry branches
and small logs, which were piled up in a great heap against the
hut, which was itself constructed of rough-hewn logs. The heap of
dry wood was then lighted, and ere long a great sheet of flame
arose, the logs and the shingles of the roof caught, and ere many
minutes the hut was a pile of fire.
"They're going to throw us in there, Hugh."
"God's will be done, Master Rupert; but I should like to have died
sword in hand."
"And I too, Hugh. I wish I could snatch at a weapon and die
fighting; but this man holds my hands like a vise, and those heavy
axes of theirs would make short work of us. Well, the fire will not
take an instant, Hugh; it will be a momentary death to be thrown
into that mass of flame. Say a prayer to God, Hugh, for those at
home, for it is all up with us now."
The blaze of fire had attracted other bodies of charcoal burners
and others, and their captors only delayed to obtain as large a
number of spectators as possible for their act of vengeance.
The fire was now at its height, and even the savage charcoal
burners felt a grudging admiration for the calm demeanour, and
fearless, if pale faces, with which these lads faced death. There
was, however, no change of purpose. The horrors that had been
perpetrated on the plains had extinguished the last spark of pity
from their breasts, and the deed that they were about to do seemed
to them one of just and praiseworthy retribution.
The man who acted as leader gave the word, and the powerful
woodsmen lifted the two lads as if they had been bundles of straw,
and advanced towards the hut.
"Goodbye, Master Rupert!"
"Goodbye, Hugh. May God receive"--when a terrible scream rent the
air, and a wild shout.
Then from the back of the crowd, two figures who had just arrived
at the spot burst their way. With piercing cries a woman with a
baby in her arms flung herself down on the ground on her knees,
between Rupert and the flames, and clasping the legs of the men who
held him, arrested their movement; while the man, with a huge club
swinging round his head, planted himself also in the way, shouting
at the top of his voice.
A mighty uproar arose; and then the leader obtained silence enough
to hear the cause of the interruption.
Then the man began, and told the tale of the restoration to life
and consciousness of his wife, and of the burial of his child, with
an eloquence and pathos that moved many of his rough audience to
tears; and when he had finished, his wife, who had been sobbing on
her knees while he spoke, rose to her feet, and told how that
morning, as she went down from the wood towards her little one's
grave, she saw Rupert ride up and dismount, and how when she
reached the place she found fresh-gathered flowers laid on her
darling's grave.
A dead hush fell upon the whole assembly. Without a word the leader
of the charcoal burners strode away into the forest, and returned
in another minute with the two horses. Rupert and Hugh wrung the
hands of the peasants to whom they owed their lives, and leapt into
the saddle.
The leader took a torch and strode on ahead along the path, to show
them their way; and the crowd, who had hitherto stood still and
silent, broke into a shout of farewell and blessing.
It was some time before either Rupert or Hugh spoke. The emotion had been
too great for them. That terrible, half hour facing death--the sudden
revulsion at their wonderful deliverance--completely prostrated them,
and they felt exhausted and weak, as if after some great exertion. On
the previous occasions in which they had seen great danger together--at
the mill of Dettingheim, the fight on the Dykes, the scuttling of the
boat--they had been actively engaged. Their energies were fully
employed, and they had had no time to think. Now they had faced
death in all his terrors, but without the power of action; and both
felt they would far rather go through the three first risks again,
than endure five minutes of that terrible watching the fire burn up.
Hugh was the first to speak when, nearly an hour after starting,
they emerged from the wood into the plain at the foot of the hill.
"My mother used to say, Master Rupert, that curses, like chickens,
came home to roost, and surely we have proved it's the case with
blessings. Who would have thought that that little act of kindness
was to save our lives?"
"No, indeed, Hugh. Let it be a lesson to us to do good always when
we can."
At this moment they reached the main road from which that over the
hill branched off. Their guide paused, pointed in the direction
they were to go, and with a "Godspeed you," in his own language,
extinguished his torch on the road, turned, and strode back by the
path that they had come by.
The lads patted their horses, and glad to be again on level ground,
the animals went on at a sharp canter along the road. Two hours
later they reached camp.
The Duke of Marlborough had already laid siege to the fortress of
Ingoldstadt, the siege operations being conducted by Prince Louis
of Baden with a portion of his troops, while the main army covered
the siege. But early in August the Elector of Bavaria left Augsburg
with his army, and, altogether abandoning his dominions, marched to
join Marshal Tallard, who was now coming up.
Marlborough at once broke up his camp, leaving Prince Louis to
continue the siege of Ingoldstadt, and collecting as many of his
troops as he could, marched with all speed in the same direction;
as Prince Eugene, who, with his army, had marched in a parallel
line with the French, now ran the risk of being crushed by their
united force.
By dint of great exertion, Marlborough joined the prince with his
cavalry on the tenth of August, and the infantry came up next day.
The two great armies now faced each other, their numerical force
being not unequal, the French being about 60,000 strong; and the
allies 66,000. In other respects, however, the advantage lay wholly
with the enemy. They had ninety guns, while the allies had but
fifty-one; while out of the 60,000 troops under Marshal Tallard
45,000 were the best troops France could produce. The allied army
was a motley assembly, composed of nearly equal numbers of English,
Prussians, Danes, Wurtemburghers, Dutch, Hanoverians, and Hessians.
But although not more numerous than the troops of other
nationalities, it was felt by all that the brunt of the battle
would fall upon the British.
These had, throughout the three campaigns, shown fighting qualities
of so high a character, that the whole army had come to look upon
them as their mainstay in battle. The heavy loss which had taken
place among these, the flower of his troops, at the assault of
Schlessingen greatly decreased the fighting power of Marlborough's
army.
The weakness caused by the miscellaneous character of the army was
so much felt, that Marlborough was urged to draw off, and not to
tempt fortune under such unfavourable circumstances.
Marshal Villeroi was, however, within a few days march with a large
force, and Marlborough felt that if he effected a junction with
Tallard, Austria was lost. It was therefore necessary, at all
hazards, to fight at once.
The French position was an exceedingly strong one. Their right
rested on the Danube; and the village of Blenheim, close to its
bank, was held by twenty-six battalions and twelve squadrons, all
native French troops.
Their left was equally protected from attack by a range of hills,
impregnable for guns or cavalry. In the centre of their line,
between their flanks, was the village of Oberglau, in and around
which lay thirty battalions of infantry, among whom was the fine
Irish regiments.
From Blenheim to Oberglau, and thence on to Lutzingen, at the foot
of the hills, the French line occupied somewhat rising ground, in
front of them was the rivulet of the Nebel running through low
swampy ground, very difficult for the passage of troops.
Prince Maximilian commanded the French left, where the Bavarians
were posted, Marshal Marsin the line on to Oberglau and the village
itself, Marshal Tallard the main body thence to the Danube.
The French marshals, strong in the belief of the prowess of their
troops, equal in number, greatly superior in artillery, and
possessing an extremely strong position, scarcely paid sufficient
attention to what would happen in the event of a defeat. The
infantry being posted very strongly in the three villages, which
were very carefully entrenched and barricaded, insufficient
attention was paid to the long line of communications between them,
which was principally held by the numerous cavalry. This was their
weak point, for it was clear that if the allies should get across
the rivulets and swamps and break through the cavalry line, the
infantry would be separated and unable to reunite, and the strong
force in Blenheim would run a risk of being surrounded without a
possibility of retreat, as the Danube was unfordable.
Upon the side of the allies the troops were divided into two
distinct armies. That under Prince Eugene, consisting of eighteen
battalions of infantry and seventy-four squadrons of horse, was to
attack the French left. The main army under the duke, consisting of
forty-eight battalions and eighty-six squadrons, was to attack the
centre and right.
The British contingent of fourteen battalions and fourteen
squadrons formed part of Marlborough's command.
It was arranged that Prince Eugene should commence the attack, and
that when he had crossed the rivulets in front of the French left,
Marlborough should advance and attempt to carry out the plan he had
laid out, namely, to cut the French line between Oberglau and
Blenheim.
Prince Eugene's advance took the French by surprise. So confident
were the marshals in the strength of their position and the belief
of the superiority of their troops over the polyglot army of
Marlborough, that they had made up their minds that he was about to
retreat.
The morning was misty, and Eugene's advance reached the French
pickets before they were perceived.
Their difficulties now began. The rivulets were deep, the ground
treacherous; fascines had to be laid down, and the rivulets filled
up, before guns could get over; and even when across they could but
feebly answer the French artillery, which from the higher ground
commanded their whole line; thus the allies lost 2000 men before
Eugene got the army he commanded across the marshes. Then at half
past twelve he sent word to Marlborough that he was ready.
While the cannon roar had been incessant on their right, the main
army remained motionless, and divine service was performed at the
head of every regiment and squadron.
The moment the aide-de-camp arrived with the news that Prince
Eugene was in readiness, the artillery of Marlborough's army opened
fire, and the infantry, followed closely by their cavalry, advanced
to the attack.
The British division, under Lord Cutts, as the most trustworthy,
had assigned to them a direct attack upon the strong position of
Blenheim, and they advanced unwaveringly under a storm of fire,
crossed the swamps and the Nebel, and advanced towards Blenheim.
General Rowe led the front line, consisting of five English
battalions and four Hessians, and he was supported by Lord Cutts
with eleven battalions and fifteen squadrons.
Advancing through a heavy artillery fire, General Rowe's troops had
arrived within thirty yards of the palisade before the French
infantry opened fire. Then a tremendous volley was poured into the
allies, and a great number of men and officers fell. Still they
moved forward, and Rowe, marching in line with his men, struck the
palisade with his sword before he gave the order to fire. Then
desperately the British strove to knock down the palisade and
attack their enemy with the bayonet, but the structure was too
strong, and the gallant force melted away under the withering fire
kept up by the great force of French infantry which occupied the
village.
Half Rowe's force fell, he himself was badly wounded, most of his
officers down, when some squadrons of French horse fell upon their
flank, threw them into confusion, and took the colours of the
regiment.
The Hessians, who so far had been in reserve, fell upon the French,
and retook the colours.
Fresh squadrons of French cavalry came up, and General Lumley sent
some squadrons of cavalry across to Rowe's assistance. Then, with a
cheer, the dragoons rode at the French, who were twice their
strength. In an instant every one was engaged in a fierce conflict,
cutting, slashing, and using their points.
The French gave way under the onslaught, but fresh squadrons came
up from their side, a heavy musketry fire broke out from the
enclosure round Blenheim, and leaving many of their number behind
them, the British horse and foot fell back to the stream.
Marlborough, seeing that Blenheim could not be taken, now resolved
upon making his great effort to break the French line midway
between Oberglau and Blenheim.
On the stream at this part stood the village of Unterglau, having a
stone bridge across the Nebel. This was but weakly held by the
French, who, upon seeing the allies advancing at full speed, fired
the village to check the advance, and then fell back.
General Churchill's division rushed through the burning village,
crossed the bridge, and began to open out on both sides. Then the
duke gave the order for the whole cavalry to advance. Headed by the
English dragoons, they came down in good order through the
concentrated fire of the enemy's batteries to the edge of the
stream; but the difficulties here were immense. The stream was
divided into several branches, with swampy meadows between them,
and only by throwing down fascines could a footing be obtained for
the horses.
"I don't call this fighting, Master Rupert," Hugh said, as they
floundered and struggled through the deep marshes, while the
enemy's shell burst in and around the ranks; "it's more like
swimming. Here come the French cavalry, and we've not even formed
up."
Had the French charge been pressed home, the dragoons must have
been crushed; but Churchill's infantry on their right opened such a
heavy fire that the French cavalry at that end of the line paused.
On their left, however, near Blenheim, the dragoons, suffering
terribly from the artillery and musketry fire from that village,
were driven back by the French cavalry to the very edge of the
swamp.
Marlborough, however, anxiously watching the struggle, continued to
send fresh bodies of horse across to their assistance, until the
Dutch and Hanoverian squadrons were all across, and the allied
cavalry formed in two long lines.
While this had been going on, a serious fight had been raging in
front of Oberglau; and here, as at Blenheim, the allies suffered
disaster. Here the Hanoverians, led by the Prince of Holstein, had
attacked. The powerful body of French and Irish infantry did not,
however, wait for the assault, but, 9000 strong, charged down the
slope upon the 5000 Hanoverians before they had formed up after
crossing the river, repulsed them with great loss, and took the
prince himself prisoner.
This was a serious disaster, as, by the rout of the Hanoverians the
connexion between Marlborough's army and that of Prince Eugene was
broken.
Marlborough's eye, however, was everywhere; and galloping to the
spot, he put himself at the head of some squadrons of British
cavalry, and, closely followed by three battalions of fresh
infantry, charged the Irish battalions, who, in the impetuosity of
their pursuit, had fallen into disorder. The cavalry charge
completed their confusion, and the infantry opening fire in flank
on the lately victorious column, drove it back with immense
slaughter. Thus the battle was restored at this point.
All this time the fight had raged between Eugene's array and the
Bavarians and French opposed to them. At first the prince had been
successful, and the Danes and Prussians under his orders captured a
battery of six guns. His cavalry, however, while advancing in some
disorder, were charged by the French, driven back across the Nebel,
and the guns were retaken. Twice the prince himself rallied his
cavalry, and brought them back to the charge, but each time the
Bavarian horse, led by the elector, drove them back, defeated and
broken, across the river. The Prussian and Danish infantry stood
their ground nobly, although the enemy charged them over and over
again; but, cheered by the presence of Prince Eugene, who took his
place amongst them, they beat off all attacks.
The Duke of Marlborough, after restoring the battle at Oberglau,
rode back to his centre, and prepared for the grand attack by his
cavalry. Marshal Tallard, in preparation for the attack he saw
impending, brought up six battalions of infantry, and placed them
in the centre of the ridge. Marlborough brought up three battalions
of Hessians to front them, placed the rest of his infantry to cover
the left of the cavalry from the attack of the strong battalions in
Blenheim, and then, drawing his sword, placed himself in front of
his troops, and ordered the trumpets to sound the advance.
This grand and decisive charge is thus described by Allison in his
"Life of Marlborough:"
"Indescribably grand was the spectacle that ensued. In compact
order, and in the finest array, the allied cavalry, mustering 8000
sabres, moved up the gentle slope in two lines--at first slowly, as
on a field day, but gradually more quickly as they drew near, and
the fire of the artillery became more violent. The French horse,
10,000 strong, stood their ground at first firmly. The choicest and
bravest of their chivalry were there; the banderolls of almost all
the nobles of France floated over the squadrons.
"So hot was the fire of musketry and cannon when the assailants
drew near, that their advance was checked. They retired sixty
paces, and the battle was kept up for a few minutes only by a fire
of artillery. Gradually, however, the fire of the artillery
slackened; and Marlborough, taking advantage of the pause, led his
cavalry again to the charge. With irresistible vehemence the line
dashed forward at full speed, and soon the crest of the ridge was
passed. The French horsemen discharged their carbines at a
considerable distance with little effect, and immediately wheeled
about and fled.
"The battle was gained. The allied horse rapidly inundated the open
space between the two villages. The six battalions in the middle
were surrounded, cut to pieces, or taken. They made a noble
resistance; and the men were found lying on their backs in their
ranks as they had stood in the field."
Thus at one blow the whole French line of defence was broken up.
Blenheim was entirely cut off; and the rear of their left beyond
Oberglau threatened.
General Marsin's cavalry, seeing the defeat of their main body,
fell back to avoid being taken in rear; and Prince Eugene, seeing
the Bavarian infantry left unsupported, called up all his reserves,
and advanced at the head of the Danes and Prussians against them.
The Bavarian infantry fought stubbornly, but the battle was lost,
their line of retreat threatened by the allied horse, who were now
masters of the field, and, setting fire to the villages of Oberglau
and Lutzingen, they fell back sullenly.
In the meantime, Marshal Tallard was striving bravely to avert the
defeat. He brought up his last reserves, rallied his cavalry, and
drew them up in line stretching towards Blenheim in hopes of
drawing off his infantry from that village. Marlborough brought up
his whole cavalry force, and again charging them, burst through
their centre, and the French cavalry, divided into two parts, fled
in wild disorder--the one portion towards the Danube, the other
towards Hochstadt. Marlborough at the head of fifty squadrons
pursued the first body. Hanpesch with thirty followed the second.
Marlborough drove the broken mass before him to the Danube, where
great numbers were drowned in attempting to cross; the rest were
made prisoners. Marshal Tallard himself, with a small body of
cavalry who still kept their ranks, threw himself into the village
of Sonderheim, and was there captured by the victorious squadrons.
Hanpesch pursued the flying army as far as Hochstadt, captured
three battalions of infantry on the way, and halted not until the
French were a mere herd of fugitives, without order, riding for
their lives.
There now remained only the garrison of Blenheim to dispose of, and
the infantry were brought up to attack them. So strong were the
defences, however, so desperate the resistance offered by the brave
body of Frenchmen, who were now alone against an army, that the
infantry attack was beaten back. The guns were then brought up, and
opened fire, and the French, whose case was now hopeless,
surrendered.
The battle of Blenheim was over. In this great battle Marlborough's
army lost 5000 men, Eugene's 6000. In all 11,000 men. The French
and Bavarians lost in killed and wounded 12,000, together with 1200
officers and 13,000 privates made prisoners, and 47 cannon. Their
total loss, including desertions in their retreat through the Black
Forest, was estimated by their own historians at 40,000 men--a
defeat as complete and disastrous as that of Waterloo.