by Ron Pearse
Now the cannonading is much louder as there was little around Oberglau, the opportunity for the deployment of batteries much reduced. This would change as the Blentheim position improved. The duke re-aimed his glass in order to scan the perimeter. Until this moment the elation which had overcome him upon the realisation of saving the centre was now dissipating as he viewed the perimeter and realised neither Orkney nor Cutts had enough foot to surround the village as, at this moment, cavalry had limited scope. He switched his glass to the right of Blentheim and noted with horror a body of tirailleurs moving down the hill clearly intending to reinforce the marquis de Clerambault, in the village and lowered the glass.
A heavy load seemed to weigh him down as he had no reserves to call on cursing the loss of the two thousand men at Schellenberg. How useful would they be! Parker called his attention to something white on their left and putting glass to eye he realised they were soldiers many with bandages trooping single file across the pontoon bridge, but realised they would arrive too late to resist the French tirailleurs who were now within a hundred paces of Blentheim and safety.
The lieutenant-messenger called his attention to a solitary rider and once again the duke switched the direction of his glass. He told Parker and the lieutenant:
"It's Captain Masham. He is shouting something to the officer in charge. He's halted his men. Can you hear what he's saying Parker?"
"Whatever it is, the French are obeying him. Look, they're at stand-to. And Masham is riding on up the hill."
The duke was now excited. Like an enthusiastic boy he shouted:
"He's seen another column of musketeers and has stopped them as well." Then to his officers: "Lieutenant, how far are the walking wounded. Will they make it to the village before the French smell a rat." Then calling over to him, says excitedly: "Ride down lieutenant, if you please and hurry them along."
The lieutenant was away before the duke had finished speaking and both Parker and the duke watched as he shouted and waved his arms in the direction of Blentheim. The wounded men caught his urgency and carrying their muskets started running. The French also saw them and their officer called them to attention looking around for Masham who had vanished from sight.. But as both Parker and Marlborough watched, the wounded men had lost none of their discipline. A corporal called them to form ranks, and with seconds, they heard the orders:
"Cock your muskets! Aim! First rank, fire!" and six balls zinged their way towards the marching tirailleurs. The English front rank retired and moments later, the second rank fired. In the meantime more wounded men had arrived to repeat the manoeuvre and with a minute there was a sustained fire directed at the French who one by one dropped, and then all at once, they turned tail and ran.
Their retreat impeded the second column which eventually emerged though in the meantime, more English wounded had joined the others and were soon in action with the result that a zone fifty yards removed became a killing ground. After losing two tirailleurs who had raced ahead, the officer halted them, formed them up and ordered them to fire, but their balls were ineffective being too far away, as accuracy of muskets is woeful beyond fifty yards and the French were well beyond that.
"Look!" It was Parker who pointed to a plunging horseman and the French tirailleur officer had also seen him and quickly ordered his men to fire at Masham who carried on regardless and then was out of range. Parker waved furiously as did the lieutenant who had returned from his mission, and at last, Masham acknowledged their frantic signals and trotted towards them.
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Uncertainty removed at Blentheim, whereby the perimeter could be closed so that Colonel Blood could deploy his batteries and commence bombardment, and having secured his centre, the duke turned his mind to Oberglau, but his first priority in the next minutes was one of pleasure, the prospect of rewarding a fellow soldier filled the duke with joy.
Captain Masham was warmly greeted by both captain Parker and lieutenant Rogers, lord Orkney's erstwhile messenger whom the duke had retained for a while. After warmly greeting Masham and praising his daring in halting the French tiraileurs, the duke turned to captain Parker, saying, "I've a mind, Parker, to send my thanks to count Fuggers for his timely intervention. What say we send the colonel?"
Parker looked nonplussed and turned around and finding nobody else asked the duke: "I concur with your sentiment my lord though mystified as to your messenger."
"Nonsense, my dear Parker! Our colonel is right beside you." Then addressing Masham, Marlborough told him: "In your new rank of brevet-colonel, will you be kind enough to convey my greetings to his Excellency Count Fuggers, and thanks him for his timely and successful intervention at the Nebel, Colonel Masham!"
Masham was stunned and showed it colouring violently but recovered enough to respond:
"You are too generous, my lord. What I did was my duty. But, it will afford me the greatest honour to serve your grace. I will convey your greeting, compliments and heartfelt thanks to his Excellency with pleasure." So saying Masham put his riding crop to his forehead in an unofficial but becoming salute and added:
"May I ascertain, your grace from your esteemed aide-de-camp the whereabouts of the count?" The duke smiled and turned to his faithful aide:
"Go along with colonel Masham, Parker. You'll find me with his lordship, general Orkney. Until then!" Thus dismissed both captain and colonel rode off in the direction of Oberglau while the duke and lieutenant Rogers sought out Lord Orkney. Orkney was with lord Cutts and both cantered forward to meet the duke. The gentlemen concerned seemed impatient but it was Orkney who spoke first:
"My lord, having withdrawn all my foot and horse from the attack on Blentheim, we are in dire danger of dying from boredom. Are we here to fight, or to play games?"
"My lord Orkney," the duke answered, "what say you to rolling up the centre; if you will muster your squadrons in the cornfields here."
"And my foot?" asked Orkney.
At once the duke addressed lord Cutts: "Will you be kind enough to command the foot, general Cutts. We shall need all the battalions you can muster, once Blood's cannonade has softened up the village."
A visibly delighted Lord Orkney giving spur to his horse rode towards general Willloughby giving him his orders and as he did so, lord Cutts addressed the duke:
"Allow me to seek General Churchill, your grace." The duke looked to their right. It was a scene from the Inferno. The cornfields were littered with bodies of men and the carcasses of horses. The golden colouring of corn was long replaced by the ghastly tinge of scarlet, blackened by smoke and everywhere there were the trails of blood where horses had dipped their hooves and men their boots in moving around the battlefield. Despite these grisly reminders of death, the living was still very much in evidence as cavalry and musketeers stood or moved. There were tears but also the unmistakable tinkle of laughter. The duke looked intently but could not see his brother, General Churchill, so turned and smiled at the offer of help from lord Cutts responding in the affirmative:
"My thanks, sir! Present my compliments if you can find him and advise him of the need to marshal all available foot below the bluff."
As Cutts rode away the duke stopped still to listen to the sound of a church clock, boom, boom which was also being listened to by the comte de Merode-Westerloo who turned to his commander-in-chief as the last boom, boom resounds across the field of battle:
"Il fait cinq heures, monsieur le marechal et bientot on peut dire que vous avey gagne la bataille."
"Non!" replied the marshal grimly, "the battle is not won until le Malbrouk has quit the field. We shall hold Blentheim and Oberglau, but where are our cavalry. I've not seen sight nor sound of them apart from the escadrons of the Elector."
Prince Eugene was mounting a fourth attack reinforced by the returning squadrons of cuirassiers of count Fugger loaned to Marlborough and now returned, but it was failing yet again to make an impression because his attack centred on a narrow
front well defended by the Elector's combined foot and horse. Paradoxically the Elector's winning strategy which they had agreed at the outset gave Tallard a false sense of success.
It occurred to le marechal that were the Elector to go over to the offensive, the Bavarians could put the Prince's Savoyards to flight and utilise the forces thus freed to mount a Franco-Bavarian attack upon the duke's forces at Blentheim. The Elector disagreed as in his opinion the strategy of defence was correct. It was up to Eugene to prise him from Oberglau. This negative from the Elector did not deter Tallard who looked for another expedient and told Merode-Westerloo to bring up twelve batallions of foot being held in reserve behind Oberglau. He told him to enfilade them either side of the village and upon Eugene's next attack to mount a continuous fire at the attacking cavalry from either flank.
Merode-Westerloo's protest that they were un-blooded brought the rebuke from Tallard:
"They'll learn the hard way. Like we did comte. Give capitaine Hubert his orders, at once. I shall be with Zurlauben."
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Two things gave joy to Colonel Blood. One was seeing the results of his placements of batteries producing devastation leading to a successful attack; the other joy was the task in which he was now engaged, the choosing of sites, ordering his gunners to fit the harness from team to cannon and the placing of such accompanied by a deal of sweaty labour urging the team a bit forward or a bit back, the final positioning being manual exertions in swivelling the gun, it's elevation and finally clearing a pathway for the cannon so that when it belched and roared it's anger, it could run clear on its wheels.
Colonel Blood eyed his gunners all stripped to the waist, their bodies running with sweat; as the face of a gunner appeared, all he could see were the whites of his eyes peering from blackened features, the result of constant discharge of gunpowder. Rider-less horses were everywhere, wandering around their hanging reins sometimes fouling a cannon-blasted tree, whinnying in distress, but nobody with the time to care. Other horses lay with their stomachs ripped open, spilling their intestines, often also with smashed and splintered bones. He tried to ignore them. He had a job to do.
The duke had given him his advice but it was up to him to carry out the actual siting and he was doubly pleased because for the first time in this battle, the centre having been cleared of the enemy, many of his teams had struggled towards Oberglau and could start to give the Bavarians some of the same medicine meted out to the French with such success.
The duke's vantage point had altered. He was now in a good position to observe both Blentheim and Oberglau although he could only observe the latter village with the aid of his glass. Even so the sight he witnessed sickened him. He turned to his aide:
"It's pitiful, Parker, pitiful. They must be raw recruits attacking the Prince's cavalry. They have more place on a playground than a battlefield."
"Pitiful, sir." agreed his aide, "Canister is an awful weapon against human flesh."
"I don't know what Tallard is doing. Forming them up without cavalry support. They have no chance at all." The duke shook his head in disbelief, but meanwhile Parker was shouting loudly:
"It's Lord Orkney, sir. It was tough getting to the summit but they have the bit between their teeth. Zurlauben's hussars aren't putting up much of a fight. They're slowly being forced back."
The captain was distracted by a rider approaching at a fast gallop towards them. The duke also heard it and put down his glass. Parker said:
"He's likely from the Prince."
The rider reined in fiercely in front of the two men and saluting the duke shouted to be heard above the roar of Blood's cannons:
"Seine Hoheit schickt seine Grusse, meine Herren. Er hat die Lage des Feldherrs Marsin durchgesclagen. Der Feind ist im Ruckzug und wird verfolgt."
"Ich gratuliere, mein Herr." replied the duke. Parker said to him in an urgent tone. "Ask him about Blood's artillery, your grace. We don't want to cause his troops any problems."
"Pardon me, your grace, I heard that. Marshal Marsin was attacking our flank beyond the village. Our escadrons are in pursuit on the right of Oberglau, so the cannons should continue their fire."
The duke thanked him asking him to convey greetings to the Prince:
"Ich freue mich auf das Wiedersehen mit dem Prinz. Sag ihm das, bitte sehr, herr lieutenant!"
They watched the aide galloping back to the Prince's position, then returned their gaze towards the ridge but there was no sign of Orkney. Parker laughed commenting:
"Lord Orkney seems to have put paid to Zurlauben, sir. He'll chase them to the Danube, I've no doubt."
"And beyond, if I know Orkney." commented the duke also laughing. Both men were relaxed. The day was all but won. They turned to observe Colonel Blood and one of the batteries aiming towards Blentheim. It was some distance away but they can clearly see the men, stripped to the waist. One is cleaning the barrel by stuffing wadding with a long pole to clean the inside, another places a charge and a third adds the ball. The whole routine goes like clockwork and now the first man pours a trickle of gunpowder using a horn into the top of the barrel. The order is given to stand back and the men put hands to ears as a man with lighted taper puts his flame to the charge, there is a hiss and a spurt of flame from the top of the barrel, but a much bigger one from the mouth followed by a crash as the projectile is fired. It hits a farmhouse gouging a huge gap in the wall and they could hear the ball ricochet around inside, then momentary silence until another cannon belches.
Blood has now thirty cannon ringing Blentheim and Parker voices the duke's thoughts: "Hope we have enough shot and powder."
Marlborough might have responded but they are approached by Lord Cutts who is anxious to give the duke a progress report:
"Greetings your grace. The French have upwards of ten thousand men in the village now completely surrounded. They're on their own. Nobody can get in and nobody is coming out. Nobody can get out. It could be a bloody business."
The duke said nothing for a minute, then asked: "Is there anything you can suggest, my lord?"
Lord Cutts hesitated unsure how to proceed then spoke: "In the interests of humanity, your grace. Might we persuade them to terms."
"Your humanity does you credit, my lord," replied the duke but did not say more as Parker cried: "Here's his lordship returned."
The duke called to Orkney: "I thought the Danube might have claimed you, my lord," laughing.
"Damn fine gallop. Best since the Richmond hunt. But I had to return. Pomesch is still in pursuit.Some of them dropped off the cliff edge into the river. They had no chance. Pomesch will chase the rest to Hochstedt."
Everybody enjoyed the jest about the Richmond Hunt. It was typical of a fox-hunting squire, and for a few minutes there was laughter until lord Cutts interrupted, suggesting: "Might we use the parleying skills of captain Masham, your grace?"
"Colonel Masham, your lordship, courtesy of his grace, the duke."
Cutts and Orkney both joined in the approbation of the duke's promotion while Parker said: "I'll go search him out, your grace."
"Do as you think fit, Parker. I'm for Oberglau." said the duke, then turning to lord Orkney:
"With the permission of your lordship, may I continue to borrow the services of lieutenant Rogers."
Orkney replied: "As long as you need him, your grace, and as long as he's back to open the champagne. He's a dab hand at the corkscrew." Cutts added wickedly: "As long as he sticks to corkscrews."
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Le marechal Tallard reviewed his options. His left flank was rock solid, the Elector having resisted four determined attacks by Prince Eugene. As the elector had reminded him le Malbrouk could only win by dislodging the Franco-Bavarian forces from the field. Yet Tallard had a problem. Behind him was the Maison-du-Roi, the elite squadrons of Louis XIV himself, waiting upon his orders. But the order he had expected to
make was for them to roll up le Malbrouk's front, yet that was impossible now. General Churchill's squadrons occupied the ground behind the village of Blentheim and he had witnessed himself, the allied generals Orkney and Hompesch commanding the English and Hessian cavalry pursue thirty French squadrons from the field. From eye-witness accounts reaching him, they had dropped into the Danube to drown or been forced to ride towards Hochstedt, two miles to the rear, where they had been cut to pieces.
Yet all was not yet lost. Blentheim had been surrounded and was being pounded by the enemy artillery, but sooner or later, le Malbrouk would have to send in his infantry and cavalry. Perhaps General Churchill was waiting for just that task when the time came, when the allied artillery had been spent. How much punishment could the marquis in Blentheim take?He had not asked for help but perhaps nobody could escape to pass him a message. How would it look to his master, Louis, the Sun King, should General Villars report that had he been ordered, he could have saved the day.
He took out his glass and surveyed the field. The enemy forces were now entirely across the Nebel and he reflected that the very bluffs which had caused Prince Eugene's cavalry so much trouble and had delayed his deployment had now worked to his advantage as his left flank was entirely protected by these same bluffs. Moreover it limited French offensive operations his escadrons having been compelled to circuit the bluffs in order to attack Churchill's crossing of the Nebel.
Then he saw something that despite the heat of an August day, sent a shiver through him. Churchill was deploying his horse along a wide front. He watched mesmerised as cavalry cantered to their right towards Oberglau. There was no longer any question of an attack. He sent an aide to warn Villars and his Maison-du-Roi to lose no time getting into a defensive position. Tallard tried to count the number of horse which were still extending their line. Had he given General Villars enough time to cover the extended front between the two villages.
