by G. A. Henty
“How long have you been on the road?”
“I have been eighteen days, sir. I could have ridden faster myself, having a spare charger, but my orderly could hardly travel more rapidly; and indeed, when I got to Magdeburg, and found that it was not likely that there would be any engagement for some time, I allowed the horses three days’ rest, so that they should be fit for service as soon as they arrived here.”
A tent was at once erected in the staff lines for Fergus. He found, upon inquiry, that the British division was at present at Muenster. He was invited by the duke to dinner that evening, and was introduced to the officers of the staff; who received him courteously, but with some surprise that one so young should not only bear the rank of major, but the coveted insignia of the Black Eagle.
The duke, however, when the introductions were over, gave them a short account of the newcomer’s services, and after dinner begged Fergus to tell them how he escaped from Linz; and they had a hearty laugh over the manner in which he and his companions obtained their first disguise.
“I have heard something of this,” Colonel Zolwyn, the head of the staff, said. “Captains Stauffen and Ritzer were both ordered here, on their arrival at Berlin; and though I have not met them, I have heard from others of their escape from Linz, which they ascribed entirely to a major of Marshal Keith’s staff, who was a fellow prisoner of theirs.”
For the next three weeks Fergus was on horseback from morning till night. The movements of the troops were incessant. The two French generals manoeuvred with great skill, giving no opportunity for the Duke of Brunswick to strike a blow at either. Broglio, guided by a treacherous peasant, captured Minden by surprise. Contades, with thirty thousand men, had taken up an unassailable position: his right wing on the Weser, and his left on impassable bogs and quagmires, and with his front covered by the Bastau, a deep and unfordable brook. Thirty thousand of his troops were occupied in besieging Muenster and Osnabrueck, and other places, and succeeded in capturing the latter, containing the duke’s magazines of hay and cavalry forage.
The duke’s position became very grave, and the French believed that, in a very short time, they would be masters of all Hanover. Broglio’s force of twenty thousand men was on the east side of the Weser, and Ferdinand was unable to move to strike a blow at the detached force of Contades; for had he done so, Broglio would have captured the city of Hanover, which lay perfectly open to him within a day’s march.
Fergus had been specially employed in carrying despatches to the British division, and had made many acquaintances among the officers. As the army gradually concentrated, when the French forces drew closer together, he often spent the evening in their tents when the day’s work was done.
In the Scotch regiment he was soon quite at home. The fact that he was related to Marshal Keith, of whom every Scotchman was proud, and had been one of his aides-de-camp, sufficed in itself to render him at once popular. The officers followed with eager interest the accounts of the various battles he had witnessed, and little by little extracted from him some account of the manner in which he had won his steps so rapidly in the Prussian service. He found that they, and the British troops in general, had a profound dislike for Lord Sackville; who commanded them, but who was especially in command of their cavalry. All described him as a heavy, domineering fellow, personally indolent and slow, on ill terms with the Duke of Brunswick, whom in a quiet and obstinate way he seemed bent on thwarting.
“He is an ill-conditioned brute,” one of the officers remarked. “The only thing to be said for him is that he is not deficient in personal courage. He has fought several duels, into which he brought himself by his overbearing temper.”
Although he had frequently carried despatches to Sackville, Fergus had not exchanged a word with him. The English general had taken the paper from his hand, barely acknowledging his salute; and not indeed glancing at him, but turning on his heel and walking off to read the contents of the despatch, which generally appeared to displease him, judging by the manner in which he spoke to his officers. Then he would go into his tent, and one of his aides-de-camp would shortly come out with a letter containing his reply.
Fergus naturally came to regard the English commander with the same dislike that his own officers felt for him. One day, when handing him a despatch, he omitted the usual salute. Sackville noticed it at once.
“Why do you not salute, sir?” he said, raising his head, and for the first time looking at the duke’s aide-de-camp.
“This is the twelfth time, sir, that I have brought despatches from the Duke of Brunswick. Upon each occasion I have made the military salute. By the regulations of the army, I believe that the superior officer is as much bound to return a salute as the inferior officer is to render it. As you have not chosen, upon any one of those twelve occasions, to return my salute, I see no reason why I should continue to give it.”
Sackville looked at him as he shouted in English, with astonishment and rage:
“And who the devil are you?”
“I am Major Fergus Drummond, a companion of the order of the Black Eagle, and an aide-de-camp of the King of Prussia.”
“The deuce you are!” Sackville said insolently. “I did not know that the King of Prussia promoted lads to be majors, chose them for his aides-de-camp, and made them companions of his order.”
“Then, sir, you know it now,” Fergus said quietly; “and for an explanation of my rank, I beg to refer you to the Duke of Brunswick; who will, I doubt not, be not unwilling to explain the matter to you.”
“I shall report your insolence to the duke, at any rate, sir. Were it not for my position here, I would myself condescend to give you the lesson of which you seem to me to be in want.”
“I should doubt, sir, whether I could receive any lesson at your hands; but after this affair has terminated, I shall be happy to afford you an opportunity of endeavouring to do so.”
Lord Sackville was on the point of replying, when the colonel of his staff, whom Fergus had met at dinner at the duke’s, and who spoke German fluently, came up and said:
“Pardon me, general. Can I speak to you for a moment?”
Fergus reined back his horse a length or two, while the officer spoke rapidly to Lord Sackville.
“I don’t care a fig,” the latter burst out passionately.
The officer continued to speak. The general listened sullenly, then turning to Fergus, he said:
“Well, sir, we shall leave the matter as it is. As soon as this battle is over, I shall waive my rank and meet you.”
“I shall be ready at any time,” Fergus said; and then, formally saluting, he rode away.
“I suppose you have no answer, Major Drummond,” the duke said, when he returned to his quarters; “but indeed, there is none needed.”
“I have no answer, sir, and indeed did not wait for one. Lord Sackville and I had a somewhat hot altercation;” and he related, word for word, what had passed.
“It is a pity, but I cannot blame you,” the duke said, when Fergus had finished. “The man has given me a great deal of trouble, ever since he joined us with his force. He is always slow in obeying orders. Sometimes he seems wilfully to misunderstand them, and altogether he is a thorn in my side. I am glad, indeed, that the British infantry division are entirely under my control. With them I have no difficulty whatever. He was entirely in the wrong in this matter; and I certainly should address a remonstrance to him, on the subject of his manner and language to one of my staff, but our relations are already unpleasantly strained, and any open breach between us might bring about a serious disaster.”
“I certainly should not wish that you should make any allusion to the matter, sir. Possibly I may have an opportunity of teaching him to be more polite, after we have done with the French.”
By two sudden strokes the duke, in the third week of July, obtained possession of Bremen, thereby obtaining a port by which stores and reinforcements from England could reach him; and also recaptured Osnabrueck,
and found to his great satisfaction that the French had also established a magazine there, so that the stores were even larger than when they had taken it from him.
The great point was to induce Contades to move from his impregnable position. He knew that both Contades and Broglio were as anxious as he was to bring about a battle, did they but see an advantageous opportunity; and he took a bold step to tempt them.
On the 30th of July he sent the Hereditary Prince, with a force of ten thousand men, to make a circuit and fall upon Gohfeld, ten miles up the Weser; and so cut the line by which Contades brought up the food for his army from Cassel, seventy miles to the south. Such a movement would compel the French either to fight or to fall back. It was a bold move and, had it not succeeded, would have been deemed a rash one; for it left him with but thirty-six thousand men to face the greatly superior force of the French.
The bait proved too tempting for the French generals. It seemed to them that the duke had committed a fatal mistake. His left, leaning on the Weser was, by the march of the force to Gohfeld, left unsupported at a distance of three miles from the centre; and it seemed to them that they could now hurl themselves into the gap, destroy the duke’s left, and then crush his centre and right, and cut off whatever remnant might escape from Hanover.
On Tuesday evening, July 1st, the French got into motion as soon as it was dark. During the night Contades crossed, by nineteen bridges that he had thrown across the Bastau; while at the same time Broglio crossed the Weser, by the bridge of the town, and took up his position facing the Prussian left wing, which rested on the village of Todtenhausen, intending to attack him early in the morning, and to finish before the duke could bring the centre to his assistance.
Feeling sure that the French would fall into the trap, the duke ordered his cavalry to mount at one o’clock in the morning, and moved in with his troops from the villages around which they were encamped; closing in towards Minden, whereby the centre gradually came into touch with the left, the whole forming a segment of a circle, of which Minden was the centre.
The French also formed a segment of a similar circle, nearer to Minden. Contades was a long time getting his troops into position, for great confusion was caused by their having crossed by so many bridges, and it took hours to range them in order of battle.
Broglio was in position, facing the duke’s left, at five o’clock in the morning. He was strong in artillery and infantry; but as the ground on both flanks was unfavourable for the action of cavalry, these were all posted in the centre. The cavalry, indeed, was the strongest portion of the force. They numbered ten thousand, and were the flower of the French army.
The duke placed six regiments of British infantry in his centre. They were the 12th, 20th, 23rd, 25th, 37th and 51st. Some regiments of Hanoverians were in line behind them. The British cavalry were on the duke’s right. The morning was misty, and it was not until eight o’clock that both sides were ready, and indeed even then Contades’ infantry was not finally settled in its position.
The battle began with an attack by some Hessian regiments on the village of Hahlen, and by a very heavy fire of artillery on both sides. The orders to the English regiments had been, “March to attack the enemy on sound of drum,” meaning that they were to move when the drums gave the signal for the advance. The English, however, understood the order to be, “You are to advance to the sound of your drums.” They waited for a time, while the attack on Hahlen continued. It was repulsed three times before it succeeded, but before this happened the English regiments lost patience, and said, “We ought to be moving.” The drums therefore struck up and, to the astonishment of the Hanoverians, these English battalions strode away towards the enemy. However, the regiments of the second line followed.
As the British stepped forward, a tremendous crossfire of artillery opened upon them, thirty guns on one side and as many on the other; but in spite of this the six regiments pressed on unfalteringly, with their drums beating lustily behind them. Then there was a movement in their front, and a mighty mass of French cavalry poured down upon them. The English halted, closed up the gaps made by the artillery, held their fire until the leading squadrons of the French were within forty paces, and then opened a tremendous file fire. Before it man and horse went down. At so short a distance every bullet found its billet and, for the first time in history, a line of infantry repulsed the attack of a vastly superior body of cavalry.
Astonished, and hampered by the fallen men and horses of their first line, the French cavalry reined up and trotted sullenly back to reform and repeat the charge. The British drums beat furiously as the French rode forward again, only to be repulsed as before. Six times did the cavalry, with a bravery worthy of their reputation, renew the charge. Six times did they draw back sullenly, as the leading squadrons withered up under the storm of shot. Then they could do no more, but rode back in a broken and confused mass through the gaps between their infantry, throwing these also into partial confusion.
“Ride to Lord Sackville, and tell him to charge with his cavalry, at once,” the duke said to Fergus; and then checking himself said, “No, I had better send someone else,” and repeated the order to another of his staff.
Sackville only replied that he did not see his way to doing so. A second and then a third officer were sent to him, with a like result, and at last he himself left his cavalry and rode to the duke and inquired:
“How am I to go on?”
The duke curbed his anger at seeing the fruits of victory lost. He replied quietly:
“My lord, the opportunity is now past.”
Harassed only by the fire of the British and Hanoverian guns, and by that of the British infantry, Contades drew off his army by the nineteen bridges into his stronghold. Broglio, who had done nothing save keep up a cannonade, covered the retreat with his division. The total amount of loss on the duke’s side was two thousand eight hundred and twenty-two, of which more than half belonged to the British infantry. The French loss was seven thousand and eighty-six, with their heavy guns and many flags; but had Sackville done his duty, their army would have been annihilated, pent up as it was with the river on each flank, convergent to each other at Minden; a perfect rat trap from which no army could have escaped, had it been hotly pressed by cavalry.
The feat performed by the British infantry astonished Europe, who were at first almost incredulous that six regiments in line could have repulsed, over and over again, and finally driven off the field, ten thousand of the best cavalry of France.
While the battle was raging, the Hereditary Prince had done his share of the work, had fallen upon Gohfeld, crushed the French division guarding it, cutting the French from their magazines and rendering their position untenable. They received the news that evening, and at once commenced their retreat, Broglio towards Frankfort and Contades straight for the Rhine. The latter was obliged to abandon all his baggage, and many of his guns; and his army, by the time it had reached the Rhine, had become a mere rabble. The general was at once recalled in disgrace, and Broglio appointed commander-in-chief; although by failing to carry out the orders he had received, to fall upon the allies left at five in the morning, he had largely contributed to the defeat that had befallen Contades.
CHAPTER 17
Unexpected News
The fury of the British cavalry, at the shameful inactivity in which they had been maintained, was unbounded; and their commander, if he moved from his tent, was saluted with hisses and jeers by the troopers. It was not for long, however; for as soon as the news was known at home, he was ordered to return. On the afternoon of the same day, an officer rode over to headquarters and asked for Major Drummond.
“I am here, sir,” he said courteously, “on behalf of Lord Sackville. He will be leaving for England tomorrow, and I am the bearer of a hostile message from him. I shall be obliged if you will put me in communication with some officer who will act on your behalf.”
“Certainly,” Fergus replied. “I was expecting such a message
.”
He had already heard of the order that Sackville had received; and had requested Major Kurstad, a fellow aide-de-camp, to act for him should he send him a hostile message. Going in he spoke to Kurstad, who at once went out and introduced himself to the British officer.
“This is a painful business,” the latter said, “and I can assure you that I do not undertake it willingly. However, I overheard the altercation between Lord Sackville and Major Drummond, and the same night he asked me to act for him, when the time for it came. I consented, and cannot draw back from the undertaking; but I need hardly say that, after what happened at Minden, no English officer, unless previously pledged, would have consented to act for him. I suppose, sir, there is no use in asking whether the matter cannot be arranged.”
“Not in the slightest. Major Drummond told me that he had expressed his willingness to meet the general, and he is certainly not one to withdraw from his word. My friend chooses swords. In fact the use of pistols, on such occasions, is quite unknown in the Continental army.”
“As Lord Sackville leaves tomorrow morning, we should be glad if you would name an early hour.”
“As early as you like. It is light at half-past four.”
“Then shall we say five o’clock?”
“Certainly.”
“And the place?”
“There is a small clump of trees on the heath, two miles west of our camp.”
“We will be there at that time, sir. Would you object to each side being accompanied by a second friend? I ask it because, did anything happen to my principal, I should certainly wish that another witness was present at the duel.”
“We have no objection,” Major Kurstad said. “We shall also bring a surgeon with us, and of course you can do the same, if you are disposed.”
The two officers saluted, and the major returned to Fergus.
“Do you mean to kill him?” he asked, after he had told him of the arrangements that had been made.
