Fire and Sword

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Fire and Sword Page 25

by Edward Marston


  As Marlborough was about to leave, Cardonnel had a request.

  ‘At the very least, travel in your coach,’ he said.

  ‘No, Adam,’ replied Marlborough, stoically. ‘I need to ride at the head of the army. I have to be seen.’

  The hasty departure meant that Daniel had little time to take his leave of Amalia Janssen. While he was going in one direction, she was about to be taken back to Amsterdam with an armed guard.

  ‘When will I see you again?’ she asked.

  ‘It may not be for some time, Amalia,’ he warned.

  ‘Please write to me, if you can.’

  ‘I’ll endeavour to do so.’

  She took his hands. ‘I’m sorry that I caused so much trouble.’

  ‘You caused none at all,’ he said.

  ‘I let myself be taken as a hostage, Daniel. That put your life in danger and I still shudder when I think about it.’

  ‘You didn’t get kidnapped deliberately.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I put you to a lot of trouble.’

  Daniel smiled. ‘Coming to your rescue was no trouble at all, Amalia,’ he said. ‘My only regret is that I brought Mademoiselle Prunier with us. I should have left her with her paymasters.’ He looked over his shoulder as another regiment marched past. ‘I’ll have to go now. Think of me.’

  ‘Nothing could stop me doing that.’

  ‘Have a safe journey!’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘but I’m far more concerned about your safety than mine. You could be involved in a battle.’

  ‘I’m ready for it,’ he said, patting the sword that hung by his side. ‘Now that I have this back, I can’t wait for action in the field.’

  Amalia trembled. ‘It worries me when you talk like that.’

  ‘Then don’t listen to what I say.’

  ‘You seem to welcome danger.’

  ‘The only thing I welcome is an end to this interminable war,’ he told her, ‘and I’m prepared to do anything I can to bring it about. Only then can I think about spending more time with you, Amalia.’

  She squeezed his hands. ‘Good luck, Daniel!’

  ‘I was hoping for a farewell kiss.’

  ‘You don’t need to hope,’ she said with a laugh.

  ‘Thank you – this is the best way to part.’

  Enfolding her in his arms, he gave her a long, lingering kiss, relishing every luscious second of it and ignoring the envious jeers of the soldiers who went swiftly past them.

  One thing for which Marlborough’s soldiers were justly famed was their ability to put on a superb display of forced marching. They kept their shape, negotiated any undulations in their path with ease and maintained a considerable speed. Indeed, they moved so fast that they almost caught the French army in two separate columns halfway between Tubize and Ninove. In the event, all that the French rearguard lost was its baggage. The duc de Vendôme saw it a reason for congratulation.

  ‘We fooled them again,’ he said, chortling. ‘We flourished our colours in the scrub and gave the impression that our entire army was about to give battle. That made them back off at once.’

  ‘Marlborough has been tricked once more,’ said Burgundy, sipping a celebratory glass of wine. ‘That won’t improve his temper.’

  ‘Or his health, for that matter – he’s a sick man.’

  ‘Is that what your intelligencer told you?’

  ‘Sophie Prunier – Madame Bouteron, I should say – met him in person. She said how old and ill he appeared.’

  ‘We’re not here to act as his physicians, my lord Duke. A sick commander is a serious handicap. We must exploit his weakness to the limit. The best way to do that, I feel, is to lay siege to Menin.’

  ‘That would take us farther west,’ argued Vendôme, ‘and our real destination should be Oudenarde. Seize that and we’d have complete control of the central part of the Scheldt before the Allies have time to bring in reinforcements.’

  ‘I still favour Menin as our target.’

  ‘Then I beg you to reconsider, my lord. Our first task should be to occupy the river crossings at Lessines. That would prevent the enemy from getting over the river and severing our communications with Lille and Tournai.’

  ‘I’ve taken that into account.’

  ‘Then respond accordingly.’

  ‘You advice is welcome,’ said Burgundy with a lordly smile, ‘but I choose to disregard it in this instance.’

  Vendôme bristled. ‘Oudenarde has to take priority over Menin.’

  ‘That’s for me to decide.’

  ‘It’s the crucial fortress town on the Scheldt. Until we capture it, the Allies will always be masters of that stretch of the river.’

  ‘I know that, my lord,’ said Burgundy, irritably, ‘and I promise you that we’ll attack it in due course. Before that, however, I wish to invest Menin.’

  ‘That operation would divert too many of our men.’

  ‘Yet I find myself minded to attempt it.’

  ‘After we occupy the crossings at Lessines,’ insisted Vendôme, ‘and after Oudenarde has fallen. Everything must be done in order. Even you must accept that.’

  Burgundy was brusque. ‘I wish that you wouldn’t keep questioning my decisions, my lord Duke,’ he said.

  ‘If you made the right ones, there’d be no need to question them.’

  ‘I take that as an insult.’

  ‘It was not meant to be,’ said Vendôme, trying to smother his rising fury under a pillow of politeness. ‘I defer to you at all times and, as we’ve shown, we can devise a strategy that’s both guileful and effective. On this point, however, there’s a diversity of opinion. May I suggest that you consult the other generals? I think you’ll find that they’ll agree to a man with me.’

  ‘I refuse to wage war by means of a show of hands,’ snapped Burgundy, putting his glass down on the table. ‘That has echoes of democracy about it and there’s nothing I abhor more than that. I don’t deny that most of the generals would side with you. It’s only natural that old friends will support you against someone less seasoned.’

  ‘They will see exactly what I see, my lord.’

  ‘Then they are looking in the wrong direction. What they should bear in mind is that I was appointed by His Majesty to lead this army and my orders are above reproach.’

  ‘I accept that,’ said Vendôme in a voice that contained no hint whatsoever of acceptance. ‘I just ask you to depend for once on my experience in the field.’

  ‘Menin must come before Oudenarde.’

  ‘Is that a command or an opinion?’

  Vendôme met his gaze and there was a crackle of animosity in the air. Burgundy could not back down, yet, at the same time, he could not disregard the advice of a man who’d tussled so successfully with Marlborough in the past. Moving his glass aside, he looked down at the map that was laid out on the table. Oudenarde was less than twenty miles to the south-west of Ghent. Once taken, it would form a triangle with Bruges. Menin, by contrast, was farther to the west and north of Lille, a citadel so well fortified that it was the jewel of French fortresses. To take Menin would be to nullify any possibility of an attack on Lille from that direction. Burgundy made up his mind.

  ‘This decision needs to be referred,’ he said, settling for a compromise.

  ‘That would waste valuable time,’ protested Vendôme.

  ‘We need royal approval here, my lord Duke. His Majesty will decide which we besiege first – Menin or Oudenarde.’

  ‘If we wait for His Majesty’s decision, it may be too late.’

  ‘Without it, we can do nothing.’

  Vendôme wanted to storm out of the tent in a rage but managed to maintain a measure of control. All that he could do was to wait and hope that his plan gained royal assent. He gave a rueful nod.

  ‘So be it, my lord,’ he said, darkly. ‘So be it.’

  Now that the campaign had at last been set alight, Marlborough acted with speed and authority. Brigadier Chandos was sent po
st-haste to Oudenarde, travelling at night with sizeable reinforcements. The main army was still at Assche and it was there that Daniel Rawson attended a council of war as an interpreter. Aware of how feverish Marlborough was, he was amazed at the coherence of the plan that was outlined.

  ‘We must reach the river crossings at Lessines as soon as is humanly possible,’ declared Marlborough, brooking no dissension. ‘I’ve already ordered eight days of bread to be baked so that we’re not hindered by shortage of food. In the interests of speed, our baggage and transport must be reduced to an absolute minimum.’

  ‘What exactly does that mean, Your Grace?’ asked a voice.

  ‘If you want chapter and verse,’ said Marlborough, picking up a list, ‘I’ll give it. Generals of foot are permitted to retain three wagons and a coach.’ There was an audible gasp from around the table. ‘Other generals are allowed only two wagons and a coach. Brigadiers must manage with one of each and colonels with only a pair of wagons. Yes,’ he went on over the heavy murmur, ‘I know that it will lead to inconvenience but it can’t be avoided. If we lose the race to Lessines, then we’ll be trapped on this side of the river.’

  Daniel was impressed by his masterly performance. It was just like old times. From where he was sitting, however, he couldn’t see the perspiration dribbling down Marlborough’s face or assess how weak he now was. When the meeting broke up, a number of generals clustered around their commander-in-chief to clarify certain points in his orders. Daniel had the opportunity to take Cardonnel aside.

  ‘What is the state of His Grace’s health?’ he asked, quietly.

  ‘It’s a cause for concern, Daniel.’

  ‘Concern is not alarm.’

  ‘We’ve not reached that stage yet, thank God,’ said Cardonnel. ‘His doctor bled him today and advised him to sweat out the fever. He’s suffering badly but will, as you saw, rise above any discomfort he may feel.’

  ‘His bravery is a lodestar for us all.’

  Cardonnel grinned. ‘I’ve heard that said about you.’

  Oh, I could never emulate His Grace,’ said Daniel with humility. ‘He can inspire a whole army. All that I can offer is the kind of blind courage that enables me to risk my life for the sake of a sword. I’m already beginning to feel ashamed of that episode.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘I put my selfish needs before my duty to the army.’

  ‘You’ll discharge your duty much better if you have the right sword in your hand, Daniel.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘And if you have any twinges of conscience, there’s a simple way to get rid of them. Distinguish yourself in battle and you’ll feel that you made amends.’

  ‘That depends if there is a battle,’ said Daniel. ‘We know that the French like to skirmish but will they meet us in a frontal attack? I must say, I have my doubts about that.’

  ‘I don’t,’ returned Cardonnel, ‘and, as you heard, His Grace is convinced that they are ready for battle this time. There’s far too much at stake for them to pull back now. They want to erase the memory of Ramillies. Our task is to renew it.’

  When the Allies marched south to camp at Herfelingen, their spirits were raised by the appearance at last of Prince Eugene. Unfortunately, he only arrived with an advance guard, having pressed on four days ahead of his cavalry. The bulk of his men were still approaching Brussels. They were being shadowed by Marshal Berwick, the hero of Almanza, where he’d crushed the Allied forces with a combined French and Spanish army. Berwick’s orders were to watch Eugene’s forces until their intentions became clear.

  At the sight of his tardy ally, Marlborough rallied at once and gave Eugene a cordial welcome. Prince Eugene’s bold leadership had earned him immense respect during the preceding years. He heard and readily agreed with Marlborough’s plan of action. When Cadogan set off for Lessines with an elite body of men, hand-picked for their valour and for their experience, Eugene wished them well. He followed with the main army which broke camp at two in the morning.

  Night marches were familiar to Marlborough’s soldiers. They would never be popular but they usually achieved the desired result. So it was in this case. The French were heading for Lessines from the opposite side of the River Dender, bent on seizing the crossings and keeping the Allies at bay. They were mortified to learn that Cadogan and his men had been in the town since dawn and that the main army reached the river hours ahead of them. In all, Marlborough’s forces had covered an astonishing thirty miles in less than thirty-six hours. Their speed completely disrupted French plans.

  Seeing what had happened, Vendôme was puce with anger. He turned on Burgundy, riding beside him, and spat out the words.

  ‘They got here before us,’ he said with disgust.

  ‘We moved as fast as we could, my lord Duke.’

  ‘Had you listened to me, we’d have been here yesterday and in a position to keep them on the opposite bank. By seeking the authority of His Majesty before we acted, we squandered our opportunity.’

  ‘May I remind you,’ said Burgundy, piqued by his tone, ‘that His Majesty approved of my suggestion to invest Menin?’

  ‘He won’t approve of this catastrophe, my lord.’

  ‘I don’t view it as such.’

  ‘My advice was to secure the crossings here with all due haste and besiege Oudenarde. Neither objective is now possible.’

  ‘The siege of Oudenarde was not sanctioned by His Majesty,’ said Burgundy, taking refuge behind the authority of his grandfather. ‘You read his dispatch, my lord Duke. The most that he recommended was that we should blockade the town.’

  ‘It’s too late for that now as well. Their men are already pouring over the Dender in large numbers.’

  ‘In that case, we must withdraw.’

  ‘But we have a chance to force a battle,’ urged Vendôme. ‘Their main army has not arrived in full yet and Prince Eugene’s cavalry are still days behind. This is a moment for us to strike.’

  ‘I think not,’ said Burgundy after using a telescope to review the strength and disposition of the Allied forces. ‘We’ll move north of Oudenarde and camp on the bank of the Scheldt.’

  ‘I beg of you to think again, my lord.’

  ‘I will only reach the same decision a second time.’

  ‘What is the point of bringing our army here if we are not prepared to fight?’ asked Vendôme with exasperation. ‘Marlborough will not withdraw. He’ll not yield one inch. If we attack, he’s bound to close with us. Circumstances may not favour us again,’ he went on. ‘We must take advantage of them while we can.’

  Burgundy paid him the courtesy of considering his advice. He surveyed the enemy through his telescope again then pulled out his saddle map. Opening it up, he indicated a point on the river.

  ‘We’ll withdraw,’ he said at length, ‘and head northwards towards Gavre, camping here.’ His finger tapped the map. ‘That will put the Scheldt between us and our enemy. There’ll be other opportunities for battle, my lord. For the moment, we need to pitch camp so that we can gather our strength and decide on our next move. There’s no hurry,’ he went on, complacently. ‘Their army and its reinforcements will not reach the Scheldt for some time yet.’

  Nightfall found both armies sited beside a river. While the French were on the east bank of the Scheldt, the Allies had lit their campfires on the west bank of the Dender. The town of Oudenarde lay between them. Burgundy and Vendôme were stationed a mere six miles north of it. Marlborough and Eugene were some fifteen miles to the south-east. Unlike the French commanders, they were in agreement with each other. Anticipating the possibility of a siege train being sent to Oudenarde, they decided to advance rapidly towards the town. In the dead of night, the ever reliable Cadogan was once again sent ahead with a force composed of eight squadrons, sixteen battalions, thirty-two regimental guns – lighter pieces attached to each battalion – and a bridging train.

  Cadogan’s orders were explicit. He was to improve the road, allowi
ng faster movement over it for those following, establish five pontoon bridges to the north of Oudenarde and build a protective bridgehead on the Scheldt. This, it was hoped, would allow the Allies to cross the river to the west bank before the French did so. Now attached to Marlborough’s staff, Daniel was with him when a first report came back from Cadogan.

  ‘He’s in sight of the river,’ said Marlborough with satisfaction.

  ‘At what time was the message sent, Your Grace?’ asked Daniel.

  ‘Nine o’clock this morning.’

  ‘They’ve moved fast.’

  ‘William Cadogan is not a man to dawdle. According to this,’ said Marlborough, holding up the missive, ‘the French camp is at Gavre. They’ll be crossing the Scheldt before long. We mustn’t keep them waiting.’

  Daniel was soon in the saddle, riding with Marlborough at the head of forty squadrons, eager to join Cadogan’s advance guard before the French realised what their intentions were. By one o’clock in the afternoon, they were thundering across the wooden timbers of the pontoon bridges. Behind them, the infantry were already on the march from Lessines. Daniel was exhilarated. He was not only heartened to see Marlborough shaking off his physical debility and behaving with characteristic authority, he sensed that battle was finally at hand. The Allies would have an opportunity to avenge the loss of Bruges and Ghent, and the sword that Daniel had taken such pains to retrieve would be put to good use.

  Vendôme’s temper had not improved overnight. If anything, it was at an even higher pitch. When news of the enemy’s movements reached him, wrath crimsoned his cheeks and put murder in his eyes. He rounded on his commander-in-chief.

  ‘You assured me that the Allies wouldn’t reach the Scheldt for days,’ he said, accusingly. ‘While our men are still crossing the river as if they have all the time in the world, Marlborough’s soldiers are already here on the west bank.’

 

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