The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars

A short, light ladder was brought up, and Rupert climbed up the steep roof, drew up his ladder, and descended on the other side. The steep roof of the next house now faced him, and he was soon over this also, and stood on the little terrace of the house where he believed Maria was a prisoner. It in all respects resembled that he had left. The door leading to it appeared strong and firmly fastened. He now retraced his steps.

Then some light ladders were brought up and placed in position on the two roofs, and all was ready for a party to pass over onto the terrace.

At ten o'clock, then, accompanied by Mynheer van Duyk and the two troopers, he went to the spot where the force was assembled, and told them off to the duties he had assigned to them.

Eight were to enter the next house with Hugh and Joe Sedley, were to pass, by means of the ladders, over the roof on to the terrace. They were to carry heavy axes and crowbars, and to beat down the door and rush downstairs the instant the signal was given.

Sixteen were to raise eight ladders at the back of the house, and place them close to the windows. Two were to take post at each, ready to burst in the window and rush in at the signal.

The remaining six were to bring a long ladder to the front of the house, and place it against the upper window, where the light was. Two were to follow Rupert up this ladder, the other four to place themselves at the front door, and cut down all who tried to escape.

Rupert's object in attacking at so many different points was so to confuse the occupants of the house by the suddenness and noise of the assault that they would be unable to rally and carry out any plan they might have formed, before the assailants could muster in sufficient force to overcome them.

Orders were also issued for a party of men to proceed to the quay, and to arrest and carry off anyone they might find hanging about there.

All arranged, the party moved off and the work was begun. Thick rolls of flannel had been fastened round the ends of the ladders, so as to prevent the slightest noise being made when they came in contact with the wall. Rupert saw the ladders planted at the back of the house, and the men ready to climb to their places. He then moved round to the front; here the ladder was also fixed. A light flashed down from the terrace above showed that here too the party were in position; and Rupert began to mount, followed by Van Duyk, who had insisted upon taking that post, so as to be ready to spring to the assistance of his child at the first attack. The ladder reached exactly to the window, and as his eyes reached the level Rupert peered anxiously in.

At a table, on which burned a candle, sat a man with a huge bowl of liquor and a brace of pistols before him. On a pallet bed in a corner lay a figure, which Rupert felt sure was that of Maria. Rupert doubted not in the least that the order to the watcher was to kill her at the first alarm. Twice he raised his pistol, twice withdrew it. If he did not kill the man on the spot, Maria's life would be clearly forfeited. Under such circumstances he dared not fire.

After a moment's thought he gave a sharp tap at the window, and then shrank below the level of the window, and with both his pistols pointed upwards, he waited. As he expected, in a moment the window darkened, and the figure of a man was seen trying to look out into the darkness. As he leaned against the glass, Rupert discharged both his pistols into his body, and then, leaping up, dashed in the window, and leapt over the man's body into the room.

Maria had sprung up with a scream.

"You are safe, Maria," Rupert exclaimed, as he ran to the door. "Here is your father."

The discharge of the pistol had been the signal, and with it came a sound of heavy blows, the crashing of timber, and the shivering of glass. Then rose shouts and furious exclamations, and then a great tramping sounded through the late silent house. Doors and windows had all given way at the onset; and as Sir Richard Fulke with eight comrades rushed upstairs, Hugh and his party ran down.

Torches had been provided, and lanterns, and as three of Hugh's men carried them the broad landing was lighted up. Sir Richard Fulke first turned to the door of Maria's room, but there Rupert and two followers stood with drawn swords.

"Cut them down! Cut them down!" he shouted; but the rush of Hugh, Joe Sedley, and the rest swept him back, and he fought now to defend his life.

Up the stairs from behind ran the officers who had gained entry by the windows; and the outlaws saw themselves surrounded and hedged in. They fought desperately but vainly, and one by one fell under the blows of their assailants.

Rupert stood immovable on guard. He knew the desperate nature of his enemy, and feared that if he himself were drawn for a moment from his post into the conflict, he would rush past and endeavour to avenge himself upon them all by killing Maria.

At last, when most of his followers had fallen, Sir Richard Fulke made a sudden dash through his assailants, and fled up the stairs towards the door on the roof. Rupert, who had never for a moment taken his eye off him, followed at full speed, shouting to Hugh to bring torches and follow.

Short as was the start that was gained, it nearly sufficed for the desperate man's escape; as Rupert gained the terrace, he was already nearly at the top of the ladder against the roof. Rupert seized the ladder, and jerked it sideways. Sir Richard made a grasp at the crest of the roof, and then rolled down on to the terrace.

Rupert rushed forward, but the torches had not yet come, and his enemy was on his feet and upon him, with the advantage which the light coming up the stairs afforded him, and striking down his guard, rushed in and grappled with him. Rupert dropped his sword, which was useless now, and struggled for his life. He felt what his enemy's object was, to throw both over the end of the terrace. He was strong and athletic, but he was far from being a match for his older opponent, to whom rage, despair, and hatred lent a prodigious strength.

"Hugh," he shouted, "Quick! Quick!"

Joe Sedley was the first to leap to the terrace with a torch, and stood for a moment aghast as he saw the deadly struggle going on, close to the slight wooden railing which ran along the edge of the terrace; then he sprang forward, and just as the struggling foes crashed through the woodwork, and were in the very act of falling over the low stone parapet, he dashed the torch in Sir Richard's face, while at the same moment he grasped Rupert's shoulder with a grip of iron, and dragged him back; as his foe loosed his grasp when the torch struck him in the face, and dropped in the darkness.

"A close squeak that, sir. The fellow died hard," Joe Sedley said, cheerily.

"It was indeed, Joe. I owe my life to you."

"Oh, it was all in the way of business, sir. You'll likely enough do as much for me in our next charge."

Hugh was up a moment after Joe Sedley, for the latter had been nearer to a man with a torch, but he just saw the narrow escape his master had, and was so shaken that his hand trembled as he wrung that of his comrade.

"I must stick to my sword, another time," Rupert said. "I am David without his sling without it, and any Goliath who comes along can make short work of me. Now let us go below and see after Miss van Duyk, and assure ourselves that our enemy is dead at last. As he said in the boat, I shall never feel quite safe till I know for certain that he is dead."

Chapter 16: Ramilies

Neither Rupert Holliday nor Maria van Duyk would be troubled more with Sir Richard Fulke. He was absolutely and unquestionably dead. He had fallen on his head, and death had been instantaneous. In the man whom Rupert shot through the window, Hugh and he recognized the fellow who had been his accomplice in the attempt to carry off Maria in London.

Maria was wholly uninjured, although she was days before she was able to speak with comfort, so roughly had the gag been thrust into her mouth. She had not seen her chief abductor after she had been carried off, as Sir Richard must have felt that it was in vain either to threaten or to sue until he had got her in safety far from Dort.

Leaving the rest of the gang to be dealt with by the authorities, Rupert with his followers left Dort two days later, happy in having finally freed his friends from the danger which had so long menaced them. Mynheer van Duyk said but little; but Rupert knew how deep were his feelings of gratitude; and he again sighed deeply over the fact that Rupert was still but little over eighteen. Maria herself was equally grateful.

Van Duyk would have freighted a shipful of presents to Rupert's friends in England, but the latter would not hear of it. He insisted, however, on sending a pipe of magnificent old Burgundy for the colonel's drinking; while Maria sent a stomacher of antique workmanship, with valuable gems, to Madame Holliday.

No adventure marked their homeward journey. Their ship took them rapidly with a fair wind to London Bridge; and Rupert and Hugh started next day by the coach for Derby, the former having made Joe Sedley a handsome present, to enable him to enjoy his holiday, and an invitation to come down to Windthorpe Chace when he was tired of London.

A letter had been written from Holland a few days before starting, to announce their coming, but it was, of course, impossible in the days of sailing ships to fix a day for arrival.

Hiring a chaise, they drove to Windthorpe Chace, where the delight both of Mistress Holliday and of the colonel was unbounded. Hugh, too, was greeted very warmly by both, for Rupert had done full justice to the services he had rendered him. It was difficult to recognize in the dashing looking young officer and the stalwart trooper the lads who but two years and a half before had ridden away posthaste from the Chace. Hugh was driven off to the farm; and Rupert remained alone with his mother and the colonel, who overwhelmed him with questions.

The colonel had changed but little, and bid fair to live to a great age. His eye was bright, and his bearing still erect. He scarcely looked sixty-five, although he was more than ten years older.

Mistress Dorothy was, Rupert thought, softer and kinder than of old. Her pride, and to some extent her heart, had met with a rude shock, but her eyes were now fully open to the worthlessness of her former suitor, who had lately been obliged to fly the country, having been detected at cheating at cards.

Colonel Holliday rejoiced when he heard of the pipe of prime Burgundy, which started from London on the day Rupert left; while Mistress Dorothy was enchanted with the stomacher, which her son produced from his trunk.

"Have you ever heard from Monsieur Dessin, grandfather? You told me that he said he would write and tell you his real name."

"I doubt not that he did so, Rupert; but the carriage of letters between this and France is precarious. Only smugglers or such like bring them over, and these, except when specially paid, care but little for the trouble. That he wrote I am certain, but his letter has not reached me, which I regret much."

The six months at home passed rapidly. Rupert fell into his old ways; rode and hawked, and occasionally paid state visits to the gentry of the neighbourhood, by whom, as one of Marlborough's soldiers, he was made much of.

"I think this soldiering life makes one restless, Master Rupert," Hugh said one day when the time was approaching for their start. "I feel a longing to be with the troop again, to be at work and doing."

"I feel the same, Hugh; but you would not find it so, I think, if you had come home for good. Then you would have your regular pursuits on the farm, while now you have simply got tired of having no work to do. When the war is over, and we have done soldiering, you will settle down on one of the farms of the Chace. Madame says you shall have the first that falls vacant when you come home. Then you will take a wife, and be well content that you have seen the world, and have something to look back upon beyond a six miles circuit of Derby."

The next campaign may be passed over briefly. The parsimony of England and Holland, and the indifference of Germany, spoiled all the plans of Marlborough, and lost the allies all the benefits of the victory of Blenheim. The French, in spite of their heavy losses, took the field in far greater force than the allies; and instead of the brilliant offensive campaign he had planned, Marlborough had to stand on the defensive.

The gallantry of his English troops, and the effect which Blenheim had produced upon the morale of the French, enabled him to hold the ground won, and to obtain several minor successes; one notably at the Dyle, where Villeroi's troops were driven out of lines considered impregnable, but where the pusillanimity and ill will of the Dutch generals prevented any substantial results being obtained; but no important action took place, and the end of 1705 found things in nearly the same state that 1704 had left them.

The non success of the campaign undid some of the harm which the success of that of 1704 had effected. In Flanders the genius of the duke had enabled the allies to maintain their ground; but on the Rhine they had done badly, and in Italy the French had carried all before them. Therefore while after Blenheim an apathy had fallen on the victors, so now the extent of the danger moved them to fresh exertions.

Marlborough, after seeing his army into winter quarters, visited the capitals of Vienna, Berlin, and the Hague, and again by the charm of his manner succeeded in pacifying jealousies, in healing quarrels, and in obtaining the promises of vigorous action and larger armaments in the spring.

The bad conduct of the Dutch generals had created such a general cry of indignation through Europe, that the States General were compelled, by the pressure of public opinion, to dismiss several of the men who had most distinguished themselves by thwarting the plans of Marlborough, and interposing on every occasion between him and victory. Consequently the campaign of 1706 seemed likely to open with far brighter prospects of success than its predecessors had done.

Suddenly, however, all the arrangements broke down. The Imperialists had just suffered another reverse in Italy; and matters looked so desperate there, that Marlborough proposed to pass the Alps with an army of 40,000 men to their assistance, and there, as he would have the warm cooperation of Prince Eugene instead of the cowardice of the Dutch generals, and the incapacity and obstinacy of the Prince of Baden, he anticipated the complete discomfiture of the French.

In these hopes, however, he was thwarted. The Prince of Baden would do nothing beyond defending his own dominion. The cabinets of Berlin and Copenhagen fell to quarrelling, and both refused to supply their promised contingents. The Hanoverians and Hessians had also grievances, and refused to join in any general plan, or to send their troops to form part of the allied army. Thus all ideas of a campaign in the south were destroyed; but Marlborough persuaded the Dutch to send 10,000 of the troops in their pay across the Alps to assist Prince Eugene, under the promise that he with the English and Dutch troops would defend Flanders.

So the campaign commenced; and on the 19th of May Marlborough joined his army, which lay encamped on the Dyle, on the French frontier. On the 22nd a Danish contingent, which had at the last moment been dispatched in answer to an urgent appeal of the duke, arrived; and his army now consisted of 73 battalions and 123 squadrons, in all 60,000 men, with 120 guns. Marshal Villeroi's force, which lay on the other side of the Dyle, consisted of 74 battalions and 128 squadrons–62,000 men, with 130 guns. They had also, as at Blenheim, the advantage that the troops were all of one nationality, and accustomed to act together, while Marlborough's army consisted of troops of three nations, at least half of them new to war, and unused to act with each other.

Marlborough opened the campaign by moving towards Tirlemont, with a view of laying siege to Namur, where many of the citizens were anxious to throw off the French yoke. Villeroi, anxious to cover Namur, moved his troops out from their quarters on the Dyle to stop the advance of the allies, and bring on a battle in the open field.

The ground taken up by the French marshal was exceedingly strong. Marlborough was aware of the great importance of the position, and had made every effort to be the first to seize it; but the French had less distance to march, and when the allied troops arrived within sight of the ground, the French were already in camp upon Mont Saint Andre.

Mont Saint Andre is an extensive and elevated plateau, being, indeed, the highest ground in Brabant. From it four rivers take their rise–the Great Gheet, the Little Gheet, the Dyle, and the Mehaigne. The French camp was placed immediately above the sources of the two Gheets.

The plan of the battle should be examined carefully, and the events of the great battle will then be understood without difficulty.

The descents from the plateau to the Great Gheet are steep and abrupt. The other rivers rise in wet marshes, in some places impassable. The French left was on the crest of the ridge, above the marshes of the Little Gheet, and extended to the village of Autre Eglise; while the extreme right stood on the high ground overlooking the sources of the Mehaigne. The village of Tavieres, in front of the right, was strongly held; while in the villages of Offuz and Ramilies, opposite their centre, were numerous infantry, no less than twenty battalions occupying Ramilies.

The great bulk of the French cavalry were arranged in two lines on their right, the extreme right of their cavalry being in front of the tomb, or barrow, of the ancient German hero Ottomond; the highest part of the ridge, and commanding the whole field of battle.

Marlborough, having with the Dutch General Overkirk, a loyal and gallant old man, reconnoitred the ground, immediately formed his plan of attack.

The French position was somewhat in the form of a bow, the ends being advanced. They would therefore have more difficulty in sending troops from one end to the other of their line than would the allies, who could move in a direct line along, as it were, the string of the bow; and the ground was sufficiently undulating to enable the movements of troops to be concealed from the enemy on the plateau.

The commanding position of Ottomond's tomb appeared the key of the whole battleground; and Marlborough determined to make his main attack on this point, first deceiving the enemy by a feigned attack on their left. Accordingly, he formed, in a conspicuous position, a heavy column of attack, opposite the French left, and menacing the village of Autre Eglise.

Villeroi, believing that the main attack would be made there, moved a considerable body of his infantry from his centre behind Offuz, to reinforce Autre Eglise.

As the column of attack advanced, a large portion was withdrawn by a dip behind the rising ground on which the others advanced, and moved rapidly towards the left centre; the Danish horse, twenty squadrons strong, being directed to the same spot. The smoke of the advance towards Autre Eglise, and the nature of the ground, concealed all these movements from the French, who directed a very heavy artillery fire on the column advancing against Autre Eglise.

Suddenly the real attack began. Five Dutch battalions advanced against Tavieres; twelve battalions under General Schultz, supported by a strong reserve, moved to attack Ramilies.

The vehemence of their attack showed Villeroi that he had been deceived; but he had now no infantry available to move to reinforce the troops in the threatened villages. He therefore ordered fourteen squadrons of dragoons to dismount, and with two Swiss battalions to advance to the support of Tavieres. They arrived, however, too late, for before they could reach the spot, the Dutch battalions had, with great gallantry, carried the village; and the Duke of Marlborough, launching the Danish horse on the supports as they came up, cut them up terribly, and threw back the remnant in confusion upon the French cavalry, advancing to charge.

Overkirk now charged the French cavalry with the first of the allied horse, broke and drove them back; but at this moment, when the allied cavalry were in disorder after their success, the second line of French cavalry, among whom were the Royal life guards, burst upon them, drove them back in great confusion, and restored the battle in that quarter.

The danger was great, for the victorious cavalry might have swept round, and fallen upon the rear of the infantry engaged in the attack upon Ramilies. Marlborough saw the danger, and putting himself at the head of seventeen squadrons of dragoons, and sending an aide-de-camp to order up twenty squadrons still in reserve, charged the French life guards. The French batteries on the heights behind Ramilies poured in so dreadful a fire that the cavalry hesitated, and some French troopers, recognizing the duke, made a dash at him as he rode ahead of the troops.

In an instant he was surrounded; but before any of his troops could ride to his rescue, he cut his way through the French troopers, sword in hand. As his horse tried to leap a wall it fell, and the enemy were again upon him. At this moment Rupert Holliday. whose troop was in the front line, arrived on the spot, followed by Hugh and half a dozen other troopers, and some of the Duke's personal staff.

A desperate fight raged round the general, until the cavalry charged heavily down to the rescue of their beloved leader. But they were still over matched and pressed backwards by the French guards. At this critical time, however, the twenty squadrons of the reserve arrived on the ground, and charged the French cavalry in front, while the Danish cavalry, who had been detained by morasses, fell at the same moment on their flank, and the French cavalry fell back in confusion. Forming the allied cavalry in two lines, Marlborough led them forward in person, and sweeping aside all resistance, they halted not until they reached the summit of Ottomond's tomb, where they were visible to the whole army, while a tremendous shout told friend and foe alike that the key of the whole position had been gained, and victory in that part of the field secured.

All this time the twenty French battalions in Ramilies under the Marquis Maffie had fought obstinately, although far removed from succour. Gradually, however, they were driven out of the village. The British had fresh battalions of infantry available, and these were sent against them, and the victorious horse charging them in flank, they were almost all made prisoners or destroyed.

The fight had lasted but three hours, and the victory was complete on the right and left. The confusion was, however, great, and Marlborough halted his troops and reformed them, before advancing to the final attack; while Marshal Villeroi strove on his part also to reform his troops, and to take up a new front. The roads, were, however, choked with baggage waggons and artillery, and before the troops could take up their fresh posts, the allies were ready. The charge was sounded, and horse and foot advanced to the attack on the centre, while the troops who had commenced the battle by their demonstration against Autre Eglise joined in the general attack.

Confused and disheartened, the French did not await the onslaught, but broke and fled. The Spanish and Bavarian horse guards made a gallant attempt to stem the tide of defeat, but were cut to pieces. The battle was now over. It was a rout and a pursuit, and the British horse, under Lord Orkney, pursued the fugitives until they reached Louvain, at two o'clock in the morning.

In the battle of Ramilies the French lost in killed and wounded 7000 men, and 6000 were taken prisoners. They lost 52 guns, their whole baggage and pontoon train, and 80 standards. Among the prisoners were the Princes de Soubise and Rohan, while among the killed were many nobles of the best blood of France.

The Allies lost 1066 killed, and 2567 wounded, in all 3633 men.

But great as was the victory itself, the consequences were even more important. Brussels, Louvain, Mechlin, Alost, Luise, and all the chief towns of Brabant, speedily opened their gates to the conqueror. Ghent and Bruges, Darn and Oudenarde, followed the example. Of all the cities of Flanders, Antwerp, Ostend, Nieuport, and Dunkirk, with some smaller fortresses, alone held out for the French.