Transcriber’s Notes:
Underscores are used to enclose text in italics; the three words that
end this sentence _are in italics_.
Equals signs are used to enclose text in bold face; the four words
that end this sentence =are in bold face=.
The 291 footnotes in the source book have been changed into endnotes.
Each endnote is labelled by a copy of its marker which consists of a
number in square brackets.
There are 439 sidenotes. Sidenotes are enclosed by black diamond
symbols, for example, ◆July 24./Aug. 3.◆.
Many of the 439 sidenotes consist of two dates, separated by a dash;
the first date is taken from the Julian Calendar and the second from
the Gregorian Calendar. The dates in such a pair differ by 10 days
in the 17th century and by 11 days in the 18th century.
BRITISH CAMPAIGNS IN FLANDERS
[Illustration]
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA · MADRAS
MELBOURNE
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO
DALLAS · SAN FRANCISCO
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
TORONTO
BRITISH CAMPAIGNS
IN FLANDERS
1690–1794
BEING EXTRACTS FROM
“A HISTORY OF THE BRITISH ARMY”
BY
THE HON. J. W. FORTESCUE
MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON
1918
COPYRIGHT
PREFACE
This volume consists simply of extracts reprinted from my _History of
the British Army_. It is published in order that the troops at the
front may, if they wish it, study the experiences of their forerunners
in the Low Countries in a book which is fairly portable and fairly
inexpensive, though neither so cheap nor so compendious as _The British
Soldiers’ Guide to Northern France and Flanders_.
J. W. F.
CONTENTS
PAGE
WILLIAM III.’S CAMPAIGNS 1–37
MARLBOROUGH’S CAMPAIGNS—
1701–2 38
1705 51
1706 (RAMILLIES) 62
1707–8 (OUDENARDE) 77
1709 (MALPLAQUET) 103
1711 122
WAR OF THE AUSTRIAN SUCCESSION—
CAMPAIGNS OF 1744–5 (FONTENOY) 133
CAMPAIGNS OF 1746–7 (LAUFFELD, ROUCOUX) 158
WAR OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION 177
CAMPAIGN OF 1793 (LINSELLES) 207
PREPARATIONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN OF 1794 261
CAMPAIGN OF 1794 (VILLERS-EN-CAUCHIES,
BEAUMONT, WILLEMS, TOURCOING) 295
CAMPAIGN OF 1794 (_Continued_) 343
END OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1794 366
MAPS AND PLANS
PAGE
Steenkirk, 23rd July (3rd Aug.) 1692 13
Landen, 19th (29th) July 1693 27
Lines of the Geete, 7th (18th) July 1705 55
Ramillies, 12th (23rd) May 1706 67
Oudenarde, 30th June (11th July) 1708 85
Malplaquet, 31st Aug. (11th Sept.) 1709 111
The Campaign of 1711 125
Fontenoy, 30th April (11th May) 1745 143
Roucoux, 30th Sept, (11th Oct.) 1746 163
Lauffeld, 21st June (2nd July) 1747 171
Attack of the Allies on the Camp of Famars, 23rd May 1793 217
Dunkirk and Environs, showing the Position of the Allies
from 24th Aug. to 6th Sept. 1793 237
Campaign of April 1794 299
Avesnes-le-Sec, 12th Sept. 1793; Villers-en-Cauchies,
24th April 1794; Beaumont, 26th April 1794 303
Willems, 10th May 1794 319
The Netherlands in the 18th Century _At end_
VOL. I. BOOK V. CHAPTER II
I pass now to Flanders, which is about to become for the second time
the training ground of the British Army. The judicious help sent by
Lewis the Fourteenth to Ireland had practically diverted the entire
strength of William to that quarter for two whole campaigns; and
though, as has been seen, there were English in Flanders in 1689 and
1690, the contingents which they furnished were too small and the
operations too trifling to warrant description in detail. After the
battle of the Boyne the case was somewhat altered, for, though a large
force was still required in Ireland for Ginkell’s final pacification
of 1691, William was none the less at liberty to take the field in
Flanders in person. ◆1690. October.◆ Moreover, Parliament with great
good-will had voted seventy thousand men for the ensuing year, of which
fully fifty thousand were British,[1] so that England was about to
put forth her strength in Europe on a scale unknown since the loss of
Calais.
But first a short space must be devoted to the theatre of war, where
England was to meet and break down the overweening power of France.
Few studies are more difficult, even to the professed student, than
that of the old campaigns in Flanders, and still fewer more hopeless of
simplification to the ordinary reader. Nevertheless, however desperate
the task, an effort must be made once for all to give a broad idea of
the scene of innumerable great actions.
Taking his stand on the northern frontier of France and looking
northward, the reader will note three great rivers running through the
country before him in, roughly speaking, three parallel semicircles,
from south-east to north-west. These are, from east to west, the
Moselle, which is merged in the Rhine at Coblentz, the Meuse, and the
Scheldt, all three of which discharge themselves into the great delta
whereof the southern key is Antwerp. But for the present let the reader
narrow the field from the Meuse in the east to the sea in the west,
and let him devote his attention first to the Meuse. He will see that,
a little to the north of the French frontier, it picks up a large
tributary from the south-west, the Sambre, which runs past Maubeuge and
Charleroi and joins the Meuse at Namur. Thence the united rivers flow
on past the fortified towns of Huy, Liège, and Maestricht to the sea.
But let the reader’s northern boundary on the Meuse for the present be
Maestricht, and let him note another river which rises a little to the
west of Maestricht and runs almost due west past Arschot and Mechlin to
the sea at Antwerp. Let this river, the Demer, be his northern, and the
Meuse from Maestricht to Namur his eastern, boundary.
Returning to the south, let him note a river rising immediately to the
west of Charleroi, the Haine, which joins the Scheldt at Tournay, and
let him draw a line from Tournay westward through Lille and Ypres to
the sea at Dunkirk. Let this line from Dunkirk to Charleroi be carried
eastward to Namur; and there is his southern boundary. His western
boundary is, of course, the sea. Within this quadrilateral, Antwerp (or
more strictly speaking the mouth of the Scheldt), Dunkirk, Namur, and
Maestricht, lies the most famous fighting-ground of Europe.
Glancing at it on the map, the reader will see that this quadrilateral
is cut by a number of rivers running parallel to each other from south
to north, and flowing into the main streams of the Demer and the
Scheldt. The first of these, beginning from the east, are the Great and
Little Geete, which become one before they join the main stream. It is
worth while to pause for a moment over this little slip of land between
the Geete and the Meuse. We shall see much of Namur, Huy, Liège, and
Maestricht, which command the navigation of the greater river, but we
shall see still more of the Geete, and of two smaller streams, the
Jaar and the Mehaigne, which rise almost in the same table-land with
it. On the Lower Jaar, close to Maestricht, stands the village of
Lauffeld, which shall be better known to us fifty years hence. On the
Little Geete, just above its junction with its greater namesake, are
the villages of Neerwinden and Landen. In the small space between the
heads of the Geete and the Mehaigne lies the village of Ramillies. For
this network of streams is the protection against an enemy that would
threaten the navigation of the Meuse from the north and west, and the
barrier of Spanish Flanders against invasion from the east; and the
ground is rich with the corpses and fat with the blood of men.
The next stream to westward is the Dyle, which flows past Louvain to
the Demer, and gives its name, after the junction, to that river. The
next in order is the Senne, which flows past Park and Hal and Brussels
to the same main stream. At the head of the Senne stands the village of
Steenkirk; midway between the Dyle and Senne are the forest of Soignies
and the field of Waterloo.
Here the tributaries of the Demer come to an end, but the row of
parallel streams is continued by the tributaries of another system,
that of the Scheldt. Easternmost of these, and next in order to the
Senne, is the Dender, which rises near Leuse and flows past Ath and
Alost to the Scheldt at Dendermond. Next comes the Scheldt itself,
with the Scarpe and the Haine, its tributaries, which it carries past
Tournay and Oudenarde to Ghent, and to the sea at Antwerp. Westernmost
of all, the Lys runs past St. Venant, where in Cromwell’s time we
saw Sir Thomas Morgan and his immortal six thousand, past Menin and
Courtrai, and is merged in the Scheldt at Ghent.
The whole extent of the quadrilateral is about one hundred miles long
by fifty broad, with a great waterway to the west, a second to the
east, and a third, whereof the key is Ghent, roughly speaking midway
between them. The earth, fruitful by nature and enriched by art, bears
food for man and beast; the waterways provide transport for stores and
ammunition. It was a country where men could kill each other without
being starved, and hence for centuries the cockpit of Europe.
A glance at any old map of Flanders shows how thickly studded was this
country with walled towns of less or greater strength, and explains why
a war in Flanders should generally have been a war of sieges. Every one
of these little towns, of course, had its garrison; and the manœuvres
of contending forces were governed very greatly by the effort, on one
side, to release these garrisons for active service in the field, and,
on the other, to keep them confined within their walls for as long
as possible. Hence it is obvious that an invading army necessarily
enjoyed a great advantage, since it menaced the fortresses of the enemy
while its own were unthreatened. Thus ten thousand men on the Upper
Lys could paralyse thrice their number in Ghent and Bruges and the
adjacent towns. On the other hand, if an invading general contemplated
the siege of an important town, he manœuvred to entice the garrison
into the field before he laid siege in form. Still, once set down to a
great siege, an army was stationary, and the bare fact was sufficient
to liberate hostile garrisons all over the country; and hence arose the
necessity of a second army to cover the besieging force. The skill and
subtlety manifested by great generals to compass these different ends
is unfortunately only to be apprehended by closer study than can be
expected of any but the military student.
A second cause contributed not a little to increase the taste for a
war of sieges, namely, the example of France, then the first military
nation in Europe.[2] The Court of Versailles was particularly fond of
a siege, since it could attend the ceremony in state and take nominal
charge of the operations with much glory and little discomfort or
danger. The French passion for rule and formula also found a happy
outlet in the conduct of a siege, for, while there is no nation more
brilliant or more original, particularly in military affairs, there is
also none that is more conceited or pedantic. The craving for sieges
among the French was so great that the King took pains, by the grant of
extra pay and rations, to render this species of warfare popular with
his soldiers.[3]
Again, it must be remembered that the object of a campaign in those
days was not necessarily to seek out an enemy and beat him. There
were two alternatives prescribed by the best authorities, namely,
to fight at an advantage or to subsist comfortably.[4] Comfortable
subsistence meant at its best subsistence at an enemy’s expense. A
campaign wherein an army lived on the enemy’s country and destroyed
all that it could not consume was eminently successful, even though
not a shot was fired. To force an enemy to consume his own supplies
was much, to compel him to supply his opponent was more, to take up
winter-quarters in his territory was very much more. Thus to enter an
enemy’s borders and keep him marching backwards and forwards for weeks
without giving him a chance of striking a blow, was in itself no small
success, and success of a kind which galled inferior generals, such as
William of Orange, to desperation and so to disaster. The tendency to
these negative campaigns was heightened once more by French example.
The French ministry of war interfered with its generals to an extent
that was always dangerous, and eventually proved calamitous. Nominally
the marshal commanding-in-chief in the field was supreme; but the
intendant or head of the administrative service, though he received his
orders from the marshal, was instructed by the King to forward those
orders at once by special messenger to Louvois, and not to execute
them without the royal authority. Great commanders such as Luxemburg
had the strength from time to time to kick themselves free from this
bondage, but the rest, embarrassed by the surveillance of an inferior
officer, preferred to live as long as possible in an enemy’s country
without risking a general action. It was left to Marlborough to advance
triumphant in one magnificent campaign from the Meuse to the sea.
Next, a glance must be thrown at the contending parties. The defenders
of the Spanish Netherlands, for they cannot be called the assailants
of France, were confederate allies from a number of independent
states—England, Holland, Spain, the Empire, sundry states of Germany,
and Denmark, all somewhat selfish, few very efficient, and none, except
the first, very punctual. From such a heterogeneous collection swift,
secret, and united action was not to be expected. King William held the
command-in-chief, and, from his position as the soul of the alliance,
was undoubtedly the fittest for the post. But though he had carefully
studied the art of war, and though his phlegmatic temperament found its
only genuine pleasure in the excitement of the battlefield, he was not
a great general. He could form good plans, and up to a certain point
could execute them, but up to a certain point only. It should seem that
his physical weakness debarred him from steady and sustained effort.
He was strangely incapable of conducting a campaign with equal ability
throughout; he would manœuvre admirably for weeks, and forfeit all the
advantage that he had gained by the carelessness of a single day. In
a general action, of which he was fonder than most commanders of his
time, he never shone except in virtue of conspicuous personal bravery.
He lacked tactical instinct, and above all he lacked patience; in a
word, to use a modern phrase, he was a very clever amateur.
France, on the other hand, possessed the finest and strongest army in
Europe,—well equipped, well trained, well organised, and inured to
work by countless campaigns. She had a single man in supreme control
of affairs, King Lewis the Fourteenth; a great war-minister, Louvois;
one really great general, Luxemburg; and one with flashes of genius,
Boufflers. Moreover, she possessed a line of posts in Spanish Flanders
extending from Dunkirk to the Meuse. On the Lys she had Aire and
Menin; on the Scarpe, Douay; on the Upper Scheldt, Cambray, Bouchain,
Valenciennes, and Condé; on the Sambre, Maubeuge; between Sambre and
Meuse, Philippeville and Marienburg; and on the Meuse, Dinant. Further,
in the one space where the frontier was not covered by a friendly
river, between the sea and the Scheldt, the French had constructed
fortified lines from the sea to Menin and from thence to the Scheldt
at Espierre. Thus with their frontier covered, with a place of arms on
every river, with secrecy and with unity of purpose, the French enjoyed
the approximate certainty of being able to take the field in every
campaign before the Allies could be collected to oppose them.
◆1691.◆
The campaign of 1691 happily typifies the relative positions of the
combatants in almost every respect. The French concentrated ten
thousand men on the Lys. This was sufficient to paralyse all the
garrisons of the Allies on and about the river. They posted another
corps on the Moselle, which threatened the territory of Cleves. Now
Cleves was the property of the Elector of Brandenburg, and it was
not to be expected that he should allow his contingent of troops to
join King William at the general rendezvous at Brussels, and suffer
the French to play havoc among his possessions. Thus the Prussian
contingent likewise was paralysed. So while William was still ordering
his troops to concentrate at Brussels, Boufflers, who had been making
preparations all the winter, suddenly marched up from Maubeuge and,
before William was aware that he was in motion, had besieged Mons. The
fortress presently surrendered after a feeble resistance, and the line
of the Allies’ frontier between the Scheldt and Sambre was broken.
William moved down from Brussels across the Sambre in the hope of
recovering the lost town, outmanœuvred Luxemburg, who was opposed to
him, and for three days held the recapture of Mons in the hollow of
his hand. He wasted those three days in an aimless halt; Luxemburg
recovered himself by an extraordinary march; and William, finding that
there was no alternative before him but to retire to Brussels and
remain inactive, handed over the command to an incompetent officer and
returned to England. Luxemburg then closed the campaign by a brilliant
action of cavalry, which scattered the horse of the Allies to the four
winds. As no British troops except the Life Guards were present, and as
they at any rate did not disgrace themselves, it is unnecessary to say
more of the combat of Leuse. It had, however, one remarkable effect:
it increased William’s dread of the French cavalry, already morbidly
strong, to such a pitch as to lead him subsequently to a disastrous
military blunder.
The campaign of 1691 was therefore decidedly unfavourable to the
Allies, but there was ground for hope that all might be set right
in 1692. The Treasurer, Godolphin, was nervously apprehensive that
Parliament might be unwilling to vote money for an English army in
Flanders; but the Commons cheerfully granted a total of sixty-six
thousand men, British and foreign; which, after deduction of garrisons
for the safety of the British Isles, left forty thousand free to cross
the German Ocean.
◆1692.◆
Of these, twenty-three thousand were British, the most important
force that England had sent to the Continent since the days of King
Henry the Eighth. The organisation was remarkably like that of the
New Model. William was, of course, Commander-in-Chief, and under him
were a general of horse and a general of foot, with a due allowance
of lieutenant-generals, major-generals, and brigadiers. There is,
however, no sign of an officer in command of artillery or engineers,
nor any of a commissary in charge of the transport.[5] The one
strangely conspicuous functionary is the Secretary-at-War, who in
this and the following campaigns for the last time accompanied the
Commander-in-Chief on active service. But the most significant feature
in the list of the staff is the omission of the name of Marlborough.
Originally included among the generals for Flanders, he had been struck
off the roll, and dismissed from all public employment, in disgrace,
before the opening of the campaign. Though this dismissal did not want
justification, it was perhaps of all William’s blunders the greatest.
As usual, the French were beforehand with the Allies in opening the
campaign. They had already broken the line of the defending fortresses
by the capture of Mons; they now designed to make the breach still
wider. All through the winter a vast siege-train was collecting on the
Scheldt and Meuse, with Vauban, first of living engineers, in charge
of it. ◆May.◆ In May all was ready. Marshal Joyeuse, with one corps,
was on the Moselle, as in the previous year, to hold the Brandenburgers
in check. Boufflers, with eighteen thousand men, lay on the right bank
of the Meuse, near Dinant; Luxemburg, with one hundred and fifteen
thousand more, stood in rear of the river Haine. ◆May 10/20.◆ On the
20th of May, King Lewis in person reviewed the grand army; ◆May 13/23.◆
on the 23rd it marched for Namur; ◆May 16/26.◆ and on the 26th it had
wound itself round two sides of the town, while Boufflers, moving up
from Dinant, completed the circuit on the third side. Thus Namur was
completely invested; unless William could save it, the line of the
Sambre and one of the most important fortresses on the Meuse were lost
to the Allies.
William, to do him justice, had strained every nerve to spur his
indolent allies to be first in the field. The contingents, awaked
by the sudden stroke at Namur, came in fast to Brussels; but it was
too late. The French had destroyed all forage and supplies on the
direct route to Namur, and William’s only way to the city lay across
the Mehaigne. Behind the Mehaigne lay Luxemburg, the ablest of the
French generals. The best of luck was essential to William’s success,
and instead of the best came the worst. Heavy rain swelled the
narrow stream into a broad flood, and the building of bridges became
impossible. There was beautiful fencing, skilful feint, and more
skilful parry, between the two generals, but William could not get
under Luxemburg’s guard. ◆May 26./June 5.◆ On the 5th of June, after a
discreditably short defence, Namur fell, almost before William’s eyes,
into the hands of the French.
Then Luxemburg thought it time to draw the enemy away from the vicinity
of the captured city; so recrossing the Sambre, and keeping Boufflers
always between himself and that river, he marched for the Senne as if
to threaten Brussels. William followed, as in duty bound; and French
and Allies pursued a parallel course to the Senne, William on the north
and Luxemburg on the south. ◆July 23./Aug. 2.◆ The 2nd of August found
both armies across the Senne, William at Hal, facing west with the
river in his rear, and Luxemburg some five miles south of him with his
right at Steenkirk, and his centre between Hoves and Enghien, while
Boufflers lay at Manny St. Jean, seven miles in his rear.
The terrible state of the roads owing to heavy rain had induced
Luxemburg to leave most of his artillery at Mons; and, as he had
designed merely to tempt the Allies away from Namur, the principal
object left to him was to take up a strong position wherein his worn
and harassed army could watch the enemy without fear of attack. Such
a position he thought that he had found at Steenkirk.[6] The country
at this point is more broken and rugged than is usual in Belgium. The
camp lay on high ground, with its right resting on the river Sennette
and its fight front covered by a ravine, which gradually fades away
northward into a high plateau of about a mile in extent. Beyond the
ravine was a network of wooded defiles, through which Luxemburg seems
to have hoped that no enemy could fall upon him in force unawares. It
so happened, however, that one of his most useful spies was detected,
in his true character, in William’s camp at Hal; and this was an
opportunity not to be lost. A pistol was held to the spy’s head, and
he was ordered to write a letter to Luxemburg, announcing that large
bodies of the enemy would be in motion next morning, but that nothing
more serious was contemplated than a foraging expedition. This done,
William laid his plans to surprise his enemy on the morrow.
[Illustration:
STEENKIRK
July 24rd./Aug. 3rd. 1692.
_Stanford’s Geogl. Estabt., London._
]
◆July 24./Aug. 3.◆
An hour before daybreak the advanced guard of William’s army fell
silently into its ranks, together with a strong force of pioneers to
clear the way for a march through the woods. This force consisted of
the First Guards, the Royal Scots, the Twenty-first, Fitzpatrick’s
regiment of Fusiliers, and two Danish regiments of great reputation,
the whole under the command of the Duke of Würtemberg. Presently they
moved away, and, as the sun rose, the whole army followed them in two
columns, without sound of drum or trumpet, towards Steenkirk. French
patrols scouring the country in the direction of Tubise saw the two
long lines of scarlet and white and blue wind away into the woods, and
reported what they had witnessed at headquarters; but Luxemburg, sickly
of constitution, and, in spite of his occasional energy, indolent
of temperament, rejoiced to think that, as his spy had told him, it
was no more than a foraging party. Another patrol presently sent in
another message that a large force of cavalry was advancing towards the
Sennette. Once more Luxemburg lulled himself into security with the
same comfort.
Meanwhile the allied army was trailing through narrow defiles and
cramped close ground, till at last it emerged from the stifling woods
into an open space. Here it halted, as the straitness of the ground
demanded, in dense, heavy masses. But the advanced guard moved on
steadily till it reached the woods over against Steenkirk, where
Würtemberg disposed it for the coming attack. On his left the Bois de
Feuilly covered a spur of the same plateau as that occupied by the
French right, and there he stationed the English Guards and the two
battalions of Danes. To the right of these, but separated from them by
a ravine, he placed the three remaining British battalions in the Bois
de Zoulmont. His guns he posted, some between the two woods, and the
remainder on the right of his division. These dispositions complete,
the advanced party awaited orders to open the attack.
It was now eleven o’clock. Luxemburg had left his bed and had ridden
out to a commanding height on his extreme right, when a third letter
was brought to him that the Allies were certainly advancing in force.
He read it, and looking to his front, saw the red coats of the Guards
moving through the wood before him, while beyond them he caught a
glimpse of the dense masses of the main body. Instantly he saw the
danger, and divined that William’s attack was designed against his
right. His own camp was formed, according to rule, with the cavalry on
the wings; and there was nothing in position to check the Allies but
a single brigade of infantry, famous under the name of Bourbonnois,
which was quartered in advance of the cavalry’s camp on his extreme
right. Moreover, nothing was ready, not a horse was bridled, not a man
standing to his arms. He despatched a messenger to summon Boufflers
to his aid, and in a few minutes was flying through the camp with his
staff, energetic but perfectly self-possessed, to set his force in
order of battle. The two battalions of Bourbonnois fell in hastily
before their camp, with a battery of six guns before them. The dragoons
of the right wing dismounted and hastened to seal up the space between
Bourbonnois and the Sennette. The horse of the right was collected,
and some of it sent off in hot speed to the left to bring the infantry
up behind them on their horses’ croups. All along the line the alarm
was given, drums were beating, men snatching hastily at their arms and
falling into their ranks ready to file away to the right. Such was the
haste, that there was no time to think of regimental precedence, a very
serious matter in the French army, and each successive brigade hurried
into the place where it was most needed, as it happened to come up.
Meanwhile Würtemberg’s batteries had opened fire, and a cunning officer
of the Royal Scots was laying his guns with admirable precision. French
batteries hastened into position to reply to them with as deadly an
aim, and for an hour and a half the rival guns thundered against each
other unceasingly. All this time the French battalions kept massing
themselves thicker and thicker on Luxemburg’s right, and the front line
was working with desperate haste, felling trees, making breastworks,
and lining the hedges and copses while yet they might. But still
Würtemberg’s division remained unsupported, and the precious minutes
flew fast. William, or his staff for him, had made a serious blunder.
Intent though he was on fighting a battle with his infantry only, he
had put all the cavalry of one wing of his army before them on the
march, so that there was no room for the infantry to pass. Fortunately
six battalions had been intermixed with the squadrons of this wing,
and these were now with some difficulty disentangled and sent forward.
Cutts’s, Mackay’s, Lauder’s, and the Twenty-sixth formed up on
Würtemberg’s right, with the Sixth and Twenty-fifth in support; and at
last, at half-past twelve, Würtemberg gave the order to attack.
His little force shook itself up and pressed forward with eagerness.
The Guards and Danes on the extreme left, being on the same ridge with
the enemy, were the first that came into action. Pushing on under a
terrible fire at point-blank range from the French batteries, they fell
upon Bourbonnois and the dragoons, beat them back, captured their guns,
and turned them against the enemy. On their right the Royal Scots,
Twenty-first, and Fitzpatrick’s plunged down into the ravine into
closer and more difficult ground, past copses and hedges and thickets,
until a single thick fence alone divided them from the enemy. Through
this they fired at each other furiously for a time, till the Scots
burst through the fence with their Colonel at their head, and swept the
French before them. Still further to the right, the remaining regiments
came also into action; muzzle met muzzle among the branches, and the
slaughter was terrible. Young Angus, still not yet of age, dropped
dead at the head of the Cameronians, and the veteran Mackay found the
death which he had missed at Killiecrankie. He had before the attack
sent word to General Count Solmes, that the contemplated assault could
lead only to waste of life; and he had been answered with the order to
advance. “God’s will be done,” he said calmly, and he was among the
first that fell.
Still the British, in spite of all losses, pressed furiously on; and
famous French regiments, spoiled children of victory, wavered and gave
way before them. Bourbonnois, unable to face the Guards and Danes,
doubled its left battalion in rear of its right; Chartres, which
stood next to them, also gave way and doubled itself in rear of its
neighbour Orléans. A wide gap was thus torn in the first French line,
but not a regiment of the second line would step into it. The colonel
of the brigade in rear of it ordered, entreated, implored his men to
come forward, but they would not follow him into that terrible fire.
Suddenly the wild voice ceased, and the gesticulating figure fell in
a heap to the ground: the colonel had been shot dead, and the gap was
still unfilled.
The first French line was broken; the second and third were dismayed
and paralysed: a little more and the British would carry the French
camp. Luxemburg perceived that this was a moment when only his best
troops could save him. In the fourth line stood the flower of his
infantry, the seven battalions of French and Swiss Guards. These
were now ordered forward to the gap; the princes of the blood placed
themselves at their head, and without firing a shot they charged down
the slope upon the British and Danes. The English Guards, thinned to
half their numbers, faced the huge columns of the Swiss and stood
up to them undaunted, till by sheer weight they were slowly rolled
back. On their right the Royal Scots also were forced back, fighting
desperately from hedge to hedge and contesting every inch of ground.
Once, the French made a dash through a fence and carried off one of
their colours. The Colonel, Sir Robert Douglas, instantly turned back
alone through the fence, recaptured the colour, and was returning with
it when he was struck by a bullet. He flung the flag over to his men
and fell to the ground dead.
Slowly the twelve battalions retired, still fighting furiously at every
step. So fierce had been their onslaught that five lines of infantry
backed by two more of cavalry[7] had hardly sufficed to stop them,
and with but a little support they might have won the day. But that
support was not forthcoming. Message after message had been sent to
the Dutch general, Count Solmes, for reinforcements, but there came
not a man. The main body, as has been told, was all clubbed together
a mile and a half from the scene of action, with the infantry in the
rear; and Solmes, with almost criminal folly, instead of endeavouring
to extricate the foot, had ordered forward the horse. William rectified
the error as soon as he could; but the correction led to further delay
and to the increased confusion which is the inevitable result of
contradictory orders. The English infantry in rear, mad with impatience
to rescue their comrades, ran forward in disorder, probably with loud
curses on the Dutchman who had kept them back so long; and some time
was lost before they could be re-formed. Discipline was evidently a
little at fault. Solmes lost both his head and his temper. “Damn the
English,” he growled; “if they are so fond of fighting, let them have
a bellyful”; and he sent forward not a man. Fortunately junior officers
took matters into their own hands; and it was time, for Boufflers
had now arrived on the field to throw additional weight into the
French scale. The English Horse-grenadiers, the Fourth Dragoons, and
a regiment of Dutch dragoons rode forward and, dismounting, covered
the retreat of the Guards and Danes by a brilliant counter-attack. The
Buffs and Tenth advanced farther to the right, and holding their fire
till within point-blank range, poured in a volley which gave time for
the rest of Würtemberg’s division to withdraw. A demonstration against
the French left made a further diversion, and the shattered fragments
of the attacking force, grimed with sweat and smoke, fell back to the
open ground in rear of the woods, repulsed but unbeaten, and furious
with rage.
William, it is said, could not repress a cry of anguish when he
saw them; but there was no time for emotion. Some Dutch and Danish
infantry was sent forward to check further advance of the enemy, and
preparations were made for immediate retreat. Once again the hardest
of the work was entrusted to the British; and when the columns were
formed, the grenadiers of the British regiments brought up the rear,
halting and turning about continually, until failing light put an
end to what was at worst but a half-hearted pursuit. The retreat was
conducted with admirable order; but it was not until the chill, dead
hour that precedes the dawn that the Allies regained their camp, worn
out with the fatigue of the past four-and-twenty hours.
The action was set down at the time as the severest ever fought by
infantry, and the losses on both sides were very heavy. The Allies
lost about three thousand killed and the same number wounded, besides
thirteen hundred prisoners, nearly all of whom were wounded. Ten guns
were abandoned, the horses being too weary to draw them; the English
battalions lost two colours, and the foreign three or four more. The
British, having borne the brunt of the action, suffered most heavily of
all, the Guards, Cutts’s, and the Sixth being terribly punished. The
total French loss was about equal to that of the Allies, but the list
of the officers that fell tells a more significant tale. On the side
of the Allies four hundred and fifty officers were killed and wounded,
no fewer than seventy lieutenants in the ten battalions of Churchill’s
British brigade being killed outright. The French on their side lost
no fewer than six hundred and twenty officers killed and wounded, a
noble testimony to their self-sacrifice, but sad evidence of their
difficulty in making their men stand. In truth, with proper management
William must have won a brilliant victory; but he was a general by
book and not by instinct. Würtemberg’s advanced guard could almost
have done the work by itself but for the mistake of a long preliminary
cannonade; his attack could have been supported earlier but for the
pedantry that gave the horse precedence of the foot in the march to
the field; the foot could have pierced the French position in a dozen
different columns but for the pedantry which caused it to be first
deployed. Finally, William’s knowledge of the ground was imperfect, and
Solmes, his general of foot, was incompetent. The plan was admirably
designed and abominably executed. Nevertheless, British troops have
never fought a finer action than Steenkirk. Luxemburg thought himself
lucky to have escaped destruction; his troops were much shaken; and he
crossed the Scheldt and marched away to his winter-quarters as quietly
as possible. So ended the campaign of 1692.
VOL. I. BOOK V. CHAPTER III
◆1692. Nov.◆
In November the English Parliament met, heartened indeed by the naval
victory of La Hogue, but not a little grieved over the failure of
Steenkirk. Again, the financial aspect was extremely discouraging; and
Sir Stephen Fox announced that there was not another day’s subsistence
for the Army in the treasury. The prevailing discontent found vent in
furious denunciations of Count Solmes, and a cry that English soldiers
ought to be commanded by English officers. The debate waxed hot.
The hardest of hard words were used about the Dutch generals, and a
vast deal of nonsense was talked about military matters. There were,
however, a great number of officers in the House of Commons, many of
whom had been present at the action. With much modesty and good sense
they refused to join in the outcry against the Dutch, and contrived so
to compose matters that the House committed itself to no very foolish
resolution. The votes for the Army were passed; and no difficulty was
made over the preparations for the next campaign. Finally, two new
regiments of cavalry were raised—Lord Macclesfield’s Horse, which was
disbanded twenty years later; and Conyngham’s Irish Dragoons, which
still abides with us as the Eighth, King’s Royal Irish, Hussars.
◆1693.◆
Meanwhile the French military system had suffered an irreparable loss
in Louvois’s death, the source of woes unnumbered to France in the
years that were soon to come. Nevertheless, the traditions of his rule
were strong, and the French once more were first in the field, with,
as usual, a vast siege-train massed on the Meuse and on the Scheldt.
But a late spring and incessant rain delayed the opening of the
campaign till the beginning of May, when Luxemburg assembled seventy
thousand men in rear of the Haine by Mons, and Boufflers forty-eight
thousand more on the Scheldt at Tournay. The French king was with the
troops in person; and the original design was, as usual, to carry on
a war of sieges on the Meuse, Boufflers reducing the fortresses while
Luxemburg shielded him with a covering army. Lewis, however, finding
that the towns which he had intended to invest were likely to make an
inconveniently stubborn defence, presently returned home, and after
detaching thirty thousand men to the war in Germany, left Luxemburg to
do as he would. It had been better for William if the Grand Monarch had
remained in Flanders.
The English king, on his side, assembled sixty thousand men at Brussels
as soon as the French began to move, and led them with desperate
haste to the Senne, where he took up an impregnable position at Park.
Luxemburg marched up to a position over against him, and then came
one of those deadlocks which were so common in the old campaigns. The
two armies stood looking at each other for a whole month, neither
venturing to move, neither daring to attack, both ill-supplied,
both discontented, and as a natural consequence both losing scores,
hundreds, and even thousands of men through desertion.
◆June 26./July 6.◆
At last the position became insupportable, and on the 6th of
July Luxemburg moved eastward as if to resume the original plan
of operations on the Meuse. William thereupon resolved to create
a diversion by detaching a force to attack the French lines of
the Scheldt and Lys, a project which was brilliantly executed by
Würtemberg, thanks not a little to three British regiments—the Tenth,
Argyll’s, and Castleton’s—which formed part of his division. But
meanwhile Luxemburg, quite ignorant of the diversion, advanced to
the Meuse and laid siege to Huy, in the hope of forcing William to
come to its relief. He judged rightly. William left his impregnable
camp at Park and hurried to the rescue. But he came too late, and Huy
fell after a trifling resistance. Luxemburg then made great seeming
preparations for the siege of Liège, and William, trembling for the
safety of that city and of Maestricht, detached eight thousand men to
reinforce those garrisons, and then withdrew to the line of the Geete.
Luxemburg watched the whole proceeding with grim delight. Würtemberg’s
success was no doubt annoying, but William had weakened his army by
detaching this force to the Lys, and had been beguiled into weakening
it still further by reinforcing the garrison on the Meuse. This was
exactly what Luxemburg wanted. If he could bring the Allies to action
forthwith, he could reasonably hope for success.
The ground occupied by William was a triangular space enclosed between
the Little Geete and a stream called the Landen Beck, which joins
it at Leuw. The position was not without features of strength. The
camp, which faced almost due south, was pitched on a gentle ridge
rising out of a vast plain.[8] This ridge runs parallel to the Little
Geete and has that river in its rear. The left flank was protected by
marshy ground and by the Landen Beck itself, while the villages of
Neerlanden and Rumsdorp, one on either side of the Beck and the latter
well forward on the plain, offered the further security of advanced
posts. The right rested on a little stream which runs at right angles
to the Geete and joins it at Elixheim, and on the villages of Laer
and Neerwinden which stand on its banks. From Neerlanden on the left
to Neerwinden on the right the position measured close on four miles;
and to guard this extent, besides supplying strong garrisons for the
villages, William had little more than fifty thousand men. Here then
was one signal defect: the front was too long to permit troops to be
readily moved from flank to flank, or to be withdrawn without serious
risk from the centre. But this was not all. The depth of the position
was less than half of its frontage, and thus allowed no space for the
action of cavalry. This William ignored: he was afraid of the French
horse, and was anxious that the action should be fought by infantry
only. Finally, retreat was barred by the Geete, which was unfordable
and insufficiently bridged; and therefore the forcing of the allied
right must inevitably drive the whole army into a pinfold, as Leslie’s
had been driven at the battle of Dunbar.
Luxemburg, who knew every inch of the ground, was now anxious only lest
William should retire before he could catch him. ◆July 18/28.◆ On the
28th of July, by a great effort and a magnificent march, he brought the
whole of his army, eighty thousand strong, before William’s position.
He was now sure of his game, but he need not have been anxious, for
William, charmed with the notion of excluding the French cavalry from
all share in the action, was resolved to stand his ground Many officers
urged him to cross the Geete while yet he might; but he would not
listen. Fifteen hundred men were told off to entrench the open ground
between Neerwinden and Neerlanden. The hedges, mud-walls, and natural
defences of Neerwinden and Laer were improved to the uttermost, and the
ditches surrounding them were enlarged. Till late into the night the
King rode backward and forward, ordering matters under his own eyes,
and after a few hours’ rest began very early in the morning to make his
dispositions.
The key of the position was the village of Neerwinden with the
adjoining hamlet of Laer, and here accordingly he stationed the best
of his troops. The defence of Laer was entrusted to Brigadier Ramsey
with the Scots Brigade, namely, the Twenty-first, Twenty-fifth,
Twenty-sixth, Mackay’s and Lauder’s regiments, reinforced by the Buffs
and the Fourth Foot. Between Laer and Neerwinden stood six battalions
of Brandenburgers, troops already of great and deserved reputation,
of whom we shall see more in the years before us. Neerwinden itself
was committed to the Hanoverians, the Dutch Guards, a battalion of the
First and a battalion of the Scots Guards. Immediately to the north or
left of the village the entrenchment was lined by the two remaining
battalions of the First and Scots Guards, the Coldstream Guards, a
battalion of the Royal Scots, and the Seventh Fusiliers. On the extreme
left of the position Neerlanden was held by the other battalion of
the Royal Scots, the Second Queen’s, and two Danish regiments, while
Rumsdorp was occupied by the Fourteenth, Sixteenth, Nineteenth, and
Collingwood’s regiments. In a word, every important post was committed
to the British. The remainder of the infantry, with one hundred guns,
was ranged along the entrenchment, and in rear of them stood the
cavalry, powerless to act outside the trench, and too much cramped for
space to manœuvre within it.
[Illustration:
LANDEN
July 19th/29th 1693
_Stanford’s Geogl. Estabt., London._
]
Luxemburg also was early astir, and was amazed to find how far the
front of the position had been strengthened during the night. His
centre he formed in eight lines over against the Allies’ entrenchments
between Oberwinden and Landen, every line except the second and fourth
being composed of cavalry. For the attack on Neerlanden and Rumsdorp he
detailed fifteen thousand foot and two thousand five hundred dismounted
dragoons. For the principal assault on Neerwinden he told off eighteen
thousand foot, supported by a reserve of two thousand more and by
eight thousand cavalry; while seventy guns were brought into position
to answer the artillery of the Allies.
◆July 19/29.◆
Shortly after sunrise William’s cannon opened fire against the heavy
masses of the French centre; and at eight o’clock Luxemburg moved the
whole of his left to the attack of Neerwinden. Six battalions, backed
by dragoons and cavalry, were directed against Laer, and three columns,
counting in all seven brigades, were launched against Neerwinden. The
centre column, under the Duke of Berwick, was the first to come into
action. Withholding their fire till they reached the village, the
French carried the outer defences with a rush, and then meeting the
Hanoverians and the First Guards, they began the fight in earnest. It
was hedge-fighting, as at Steenkirk, muzzle to muzzle and hand to hand.
Every step was contested; the combat swayed backwards and forwards
within the village; and the carnage was frightful. The remaining French
columns came up, met with the like resistance, and made little way.
Fresh regiments were poured by the French into the fight, and at last
the First Guards, completely broken by its losses, gave way. But it
was only for a moment. They rallied on the Scots Guards; the Dutch
and Hanoverians rallied behind them, and, though the enemy had been
again reinforced, they resumed the unequal fight, nine battalions
against twenty-six, with unshaken tenacity. At Laer, on the extreme
right, the fight was equally sharp. Ramsey for a time was driven out
of the village, and the French cavalry actually forced its way into
the Allies’ position. There, however, it was charged in flank by
the Elector of Bavaria, and driven out with great slaughter. Ramsey
seized the moment to rally his brigade. The French columns, despite
their success, still remained isolated and detached, and presented no
united front. The King placed himself at the head of the Guards and
Hanoverians, and with one charge British, Dutch, and Germans fell upon
the Frenchmen and swept them out of both villages.