by Ron Pearse
As the leaders dispersed towards their regiments they all noticed the early morning mist and observed one to the other that it would impede the enemy from seeing the allied deployment. Then pointing upwards the duke made a final observation:
"We have the sun and the good Lord behind us."
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Marshall Tallard was not a happy man, at least, not as happy and contented as as he might have been, for he had been summoned from the good living and the fleshpots of Alsace by his master in Paris, who, as likely, had also been summoned from his fleshpots of the Palace of Versailles, to proceed to the aid of the Elector of Bavaria. The moment he had been notified of the movements of the army of the Grand Alliance, his scouts had kept him well informed, even when the English had started to build a bridge to effect a crossing of the Rhine and his headquarters had been buzzing with expectations as to Malbrouk's next move, Tallard had kept his nerve, even when also Malbrouk's army had started to burn villages and ripening crops. Then the Bavarians had sent messengers to Louis for desperate help, who duly commanded his marshal to proceed south which was exactly as Malbrouk (French rendering of Marlborough) had predicted.
Tallard knew it too but his master, Louis, was too far away to want to start an argument, so le marechal reluctantly ordered his coach onto the road, notified his quartermaster of the need for supplies for a protracted campaign in territory stripped of fodder and food by his enemy and summoned his officers to prepare to march their army south to confront Malbrouk.
His vanguard soon began to make contact with outlying units of Prince Eugene's army which he hoped to destroy but in the course of one night the prince’s army vanished. In vain Tallard scoured the country in all directions but the Prince was keeping just out of battle range doubtless heeding the advice of his ally, Malbrouk. Now Tallard had the company of the Elector of Bavaria who had been keen to tell him how he had bloodied the Prussians just a year ago and that the Elector would be pleased to show Tallard how together, their Franco-Bavarian army, could repeat his triumph.
Both the French and the Grand Alliance of the English, Dutch, Germans and Austrians had observed the manoeuvrings of the Prussians and Bavarians with fascination. On the one hand the proud Prussians had refused to join the Alliance distrusting the polyglot nature of the allies while the Bavarians, formerly supporting the allied course, saw advantages, as an ally of France, and their bravado and opportunism had paid off when in 1703 they had met and defeated a Prussian army.
It was then that the Duke of Marlborough had conceived a plan based upon his judgement that the Bavarians were vulnerable and the first part of his strategy had paid off following his successful attack of the Schellenberg fortress on the river Danube. It had cost the allies dear in terms of killed and wounded but that very fact yielded an unlooked for bonus because the Elector believed the losses even greater. His faulty reasoning arose because in the course of the allied assault, an allied contingent had come under fire having been mistaken for Bavarians whose uniform colour they shared. Learning of the 'friendly fire' Marlborough had allowed a Bavarian prisoner to learn of the 'high' losses and then to escape. The duke was to use the incident to his advantage during the battle of Blenheim. Subsequent to the Schellenberg victory, Marlborough's campaign of destruction across Bavaria, such a policy, to be known centuries hence, as 'scorched earth', yielded the expected result of the French being roused to support their new ally.
As Tallard surveyed the site of the previous year's engagement between Prussia and Bavaria, he was inclined to agree with the Elector that should the Franco-Bavarians dig in, it was up to Malbrouk to dislodge them. It was a strong position not least because it was athwart the high ground, where there were villages that could be occupied and easily made strongly defensible, and in the valley below, the river Nebel, although not large, would have to be crossed under his cannon-fire with a swampy flood plain stretching many yards either side of the river. There were even water-mills to enable both French and Bavarian leaders to survey the battlefield with advantage.
Tallard’s French army could occupy the village of Blentheim while the Elector's headquarters would be sited in Oberglau, the two villages though several miles apart could be linked by means of mounted messengers. There were thick woods either side of each village which gave Tallard great satisfaction and he envied his cavalry commanders who would be able to hide under cover of the trees and swoop down on the enemy at will.
Tallard's practised eye was already picking places for his cannon which could wreak enormous damage to forces trying to cross the river and having made his decision gave permission for foraging parties to strip the surrounding countryside of any conceivable provision and then to destroy barns, houses, mills other than the ones needed for their own forces. He was aided and comforted by the Elector's news that Marlborough had lost at least five thousand fighting men instead of the actual figure of two thousand.
One of the mills kept intact provides accommodation for the Comte de Merode-Westerloo, general of the French. He and his aide-de-camp had made some very comfortable lodgings for themselves, too comfortable it would seem as a French musketeer almost in a panic ascends the steps to the floor where the comte is asleep. He carries a lighted torch which he uses to look for the sleeping men though hears the snores soon enough hastening to the upper floor where he rouses the aide-de-camp who bleary-eyed stumbles to the lookout. He peers through the purpose-built slits in the upper structure in order to view the valley below.
All he can see is mist which envelops the valley floor and listens intently to hostile sounds which he can faintly hear but without sighting of the enemy has nothing much to report. He asks himself if the jangle he can hear is horses. He starts as a faraway church bell sounds and counts the booms, seven, and hurries to the general, shaking him gently, whispering:
"Reveillez, reveillez mon general!" The comte is opening his eyes, staring at his aide. He mutters: "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" His aide speaks hastily, urgency in his words: "Le Malbrouk, monsieur. Il est la, il est la!"
The general, in his dream, still at Court, does not grasp the impact of his words. Still stupefied by sleep, he asks: "Ou est la?""Venez monsieur c'est l'Anglais! C'est le Malbrouk." The aide gets up and hurries over to the lookout, calling urgently:
"Venez-ici, monsieur, s'il vous plait! Regardez!"
At last the general has got up and stumbles over to where his aide is pointing and now the sounds are unmistakeable, an army is approaching though still far off. The general holds his head regretting the wine of the evening before and can only mutter:]
"Incroyable, incroyable!" Then turning to the aide issues his first order:
"Envoyez mes compliments a capitaine Theroux." He stops to think then adds: "Tell him to sound recall of the foragers. Then bring me word from the artillery commander about his readiness. Then inform his excellency, the marquis of Clerambault of the approach of their army. Allez-vite!"
As the aide departed clattering down the steps of the mill, the general heard another sound behind him and turning around found the trooper who had awoken his aide. He called him over:
"Come soldier. Take a look. Listen! Your ears are probably better than mine. How far away are they?" The soldier put down his musket to peer into the gloom, hearing the same sounds as his seniors and trying to make something out, but apart from swirling vapour, he could see nothing and the sounds came and went, sometimes a loud jangle but mostly muffled by fog and distance.
"Well!" demanded the general and the soldier eyeing his musket and trying to be helpful said: "A musket ball might reach the vanguard, monsieur le general."
"Dismiss!" barked the comte disgusted, "take up your guard below," and the soldier went downstairs while the general started putting on his boots, adjusted his periwig, donned his military coat with the epaulettes, and stamped around to ease his feet into his boots, then removing his telescope placed it to his right eye and with a disgusted, Bah!, pushed it shut and h
urried downstairs.
Proceeding round the base of the mill, the general entered a barn still gloomy in the early morning and a whinny brought him to where his horse was munching oats that a thoughtful trooper had placed around his head, and removed the bag and spoke to the horse:
"We're away, ma belle, to speak to le marechal. Venez!"
He silently thanked his aide for saddling her as he climbed up and cantered to the sentry, barking to him where his aide would find him and trotted off, gently climbing the rise towards the headquarters of Marshall Tallard, between the villages of Blentheim and Oberglau.
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Everything the Duke of Marlborough had advised - it was not his style to issue commands - was, following his briefing to his generals in the command marquee, carried out. Before leaving to make his final calls upon each battalion and squadron, he had spoken to his aide-de-camp with a view to his Pioneers scouring their own stores, and surrounding countryside for materials such as straw and hay for the purpose of soaking up the wet approaches to the river.
No detail escaped the duke and yet nobody was at all put out by these arrangements. It was his ability to anticipate problems such as shortages along a route march as when in May long before the order had gone out to march to the Danube that he had instructed his quartermaster to inventorise his soldiers' boot sizes so that fresh supplies of new footwear would be available at specified towns along the route from the camping grounds in the Dutch republic to their destination, the upper Rhine, a journey of five weeks, which saw his men as fit upon arrival as the day they had left. There was also provision made by his Commissariat to have supplies of bread, cheese, meat as well as ample quantities of beer, wine and, of course, water and feed for the horses.
The early morning mist benefited the deployment of Marlborough's army and even before the leading columns had reached the Nebel, Colonel Cadogan and his engineers had sunk the pontoons, laid out fascines and several spans constructed from wood of dismantled wagons, or whatever planks the Pioneers had managed to rip from barns and mills in the countryside around. Many had been laid in the early hours before they had been bothered by early ranging shots of the French artillery, and even the momentum of the first projectiles lost momentum as they splashed in the marshy ground, overlooked by Tallard in making his dispositions.
Prince Eugene directed his foot across the marshy ground helped somewhat by the forethought of Marlborough's pioneer corps scattering large quantities of fodder in order to delay the development of what undoubtedly would become a morass. Even so the men were soon up to their waists in the water. Some had been ordered to cut down thickets to make rafts although these were used to carry equipment across. Men were more easily able to ford the river unencumbered by muskets besides keeping their powder dry.
The moment the men had scrambled from the water they were formed up cocking their weapon to be ready to cover the crossing of the horses from a surprise attack from enemy cavalry already forming up halfway up the slope partly hidden by the trees but easily discernible by their movement alone. Many of their horses were already across being defiled between the men and as soon as they were across they were galloping to the right on their way over the stubbly fields to take up their allotted station opposite Oberglau, some three miles distant. Owing to the unexpected steepness of the terrain cragged with sharp edged bluffs impassable to horses, Prince Eugene's columns would have to detour along the lower valley, protected by cannon fire from those very bluffs occasioning the detour, but it would delay their deployment.
The whole area was heavily forested however and the cavalry had to be ever watchful from surprise raids from clumps of trees that could easily hide enemy cavalry. These delays in the deployment of Prince Eugene's forces would give Marlborough many anxious moments as the French fusillade got under way, improving with more accurate ranging as the morning developed.
Through his telescope Marlborough watched enemy soldiers carrying tables, chairs, carts outside of the outlying houses to form a palisade around the village of Blentheim their preparations momentarily interrupted by one of Colonel Blood's cannonades, all too rare, as otherwise he was in danger of firing across the allied front. The French commander had also ordered his men to place obstructions between the village and the Danube so as to prevent a flanking attack as well as to protect the flank of his own cavalry which were ordered to wait here as a reserve.
Marlborough sitting astride his white charger was seemingly unperturbed by the cannon balls which could be observed rising in a trajectory before bouncing across the stubble of the cornfield. Even when a ball whistled towards him, horse and rider scarcely moved yet he was alive to a constant stream of officers reporting units in position and ready for action, finally sending Parker in a gallop to Lords Orkney and Cutts, to General Churchill, to Major-general Wilkes and to General Wood, and when Parker returned with satisfactory reports, the duke said aloud to Parker:
"My compliments to Colonel Blood, and if he would, where possible, commence firing his heavy batteries on the villages of Blentheim and Oberglau!"
"Even before he had finished a cheer went up from the ranks to be quieted by a sergeant: "Shut your gobs you 'orrible men. His lordship cannot hear himself speak."
The duke smiled, pointing to a few forward batteries, then spoke: "Advise the colonel to load those with canister," and Parker was away galloping first across the pontoon bridge to where the colonel stood directing his sappers. Parker watched him trotting to each battery in turn and intercepted him to convey the duke's message. Then for Parker it was back across the pontoon as cannonballs from the French continued to fall, to bounce, to sizzle across marsh racing menacingly through ranks of soldiers before ending in a cloud of steam in the Nebel. The duke watched as Parker assiduously bore his messages then turned to a soldier, earlier referred to:
"Would you advise your battalion commander, sergeant, to let me have a word with him," and within a short while the duke was advising him to allow the men to lie down where he thought it advisable and allow them to eat lunch provided they did not congregate. Within the next fifteen minutes Parker had advised all the remaining battalion commanders of the same message. Occasionally Marlborough put the glass to his eye to observe the disposition of the enemy and whether it had materially changed from his last sighting. His glass rested on one particular figure on horseback.
Sighted by the duke's telescope, the figure on horseback was the Marquis de Clerambault. He was taking out a heavy fob-clock from his jacket, turning to his adjutant. But that was the total of the duke's sighting, and he would not have heard the marquis addressing his aide:
"Il fait onze heures, monsieur l'adjutant." His adjustant turned to listen as his commanding officer added: "Still Malbrouk has not begun his attack. He has lost any advantage that he had, surely." Unseen by either another rider has approached them, his opening sentence alerting both to Marshall Tallard's presence:
"I had the honour, messieurs, to meet the duke en Angleterre. A more perfect gentihomme does not inhabit the earth." The marquis and his adjustant exchanged looks as if to think but not say, 'Is this a soiree to which we have been invited? Perhaps this battlefield is a dream!" They heard their marshal add:
"Le Malbrouk, as good mannners dictate, is waiting for his eminence, the Prince Eugene to be ready before he opens hostilities. The prince is having difficulty with the thick forest and steep cliffs. It shows poor scouting."
The marquis was thinking, should we not exploit this advantage, but instead he said obsequiously: "The prince will get a hot reception when he is ready. Your Excellency is wreaking havoc all along Malbrouk's front."
Tallard did not disagree: "He is sustaining heavy casualties which works to our advantage as we started with more men, more cavalry, and more guns."
The adjutant looked across at the marshal: "What a discipline, monsieur! I could not wait so patiently to commence my attack," getting the expected riposte which caused the adjutant
a slight inward smile: "That is the reason why he is a general and you are not."
The marquis smiled with his eyes at his adjutant, before turning to his commander-in-chief: "What are my orders, Monsieur le Marechal?"
"You have nine batallions in the village, marquis and another eighteen in echelon on the hill." He pointed to his left, "Look at my chasseurs! Are they not magnifique! I envy you marquis all twelve squadrons. You have the advantage of le Malbrouk and can switch flanks at the instant."
He had been smiling to himself but now became serious, saying gravely:
"One thing is certain. Blentheim is an anchor point. You must hold it at all costs. Let me know the instant it is in danger."
The marquis responded to the marshal: "Indeed monsieur, the village must be defended to the last man. Still it is a natural fortress so you gave us the advantage over the enemy and as you can see we have further strengthened it with extra palisades. Have no fear on our account, monsieur."
Tallard raised his baton in a gesture of acknowledgement and of dismissal: "I shall be observing the battle from yonder," pointing to a mill stop the ridge. As he retired he waved his baton at General Zurlauben stationed atop the ridge in the centre and commented as a throwaway line:
"We've another sixty squadrons in the centre so we'll make it hot for le Malbrouk today. To your posts, mes braves. Bonne chance!"
