Edward Marston - Fire and Sword

Cadogan’s appetite for action had been whetted. He was keen to be in the field again. Ahead of him were seven enemy battalions, made up of Swiss mercenaries. Sent forward by Vendome, they had, by an oversight, never been recalled. Cadogan acted decisively. With the consent of Marlborough, he unleashed his attack on them with British redcoats to the front supported by Hanoverian cavalry to their flank and rear. When the two sides met, there was an ear-splitting cacophony of clashing blades and musket fire, supplemented by cries of agony from men and horses as they were shot, hacked or bayoneted to the ground. The popping of musketry became a roar and clouds of smoke marked the successive volleys. The Swiss had erected some rudimentary barricades but they failed to hold back the onslaught. Cadogan’s men were well trained, quick to respond to orders and merciless in combat. As soon as some of them fell, others stepped over their bodies to continue the fight with an iron determination.

The result was never in doubt. The Swiss brigades had been taken unawares. Their leaders had never imagined that Allied forces in such strength could be so close. Shocked and unprepared, they were no match for Cadogan’s infantry and were soon put under intolerable pressure by the surging waves of redcoats. Cadogan deployed his men with such skill and purpose that they overcame all opposition within an hour. As the Swiss retreated, the Hanoverian cavalry harried them ruthlessly. Daniel was thrilled at the early success. Cadogan had not merely vanquished the Swiss and taken masses of prisoners, he’d bought priceless time for reinforcements to catch up with them. It augured well for the battle ahead.

Burgundy was dismayed by what he saw. From his position on the ridge, he witnessed the complete destruction of his Swiss battalions. It made him think again about how to fight the battle. Vendome, who’d been an ardent advocate for striking hard at the enemy, now felt that it was too late to attack. Once again, he was overruled. On the orders of Burgundy, the French right wing began to pick its way down the slopes and over the River Norken, one of the many streams that crisscrossed the area. It was close countryside with ditches, marshes, bushes, hedgerows, copses, brambles and thick undergrowth hindering progress.

At approximately five o’clock, the right wing attacked Cadogan’s forces with ferocity, overlapping it to the west and threatening to engulf it. Some relief came from a battery posted by Marlborough to fire away incessantly at the advancing French hordes. To counter the threat of being enveloped, Cadogan changed his front to the left but his line remained thin and potentially fragile. Fortunately, the nature of the terrain left little scope for cavalry. At Blenheim and at Ramillies, they’d been offered a wide, open, uncluttered plain on which troops could be aligned in strict formation and cavalry charges used to effect. The battle of Oudenarde, it was now clear, would be decided by fierce, unrelenting, hand-to-hand fighting by the infantry.

Vendome led from the front with a verve that inspired his men. While Burgundy remained on the ridge with the left flank, his second-in-command was in the thick of the action, wielding a half-pike with unflagging power and driving his army on. He was quick to notice that the only open ground was to Cadogan’s left and that it was occupied by Prussian and Hanoverian horse with no supporting infantry. It was a weak point that needed to be exploited. Conscious of this, Vendome sent an urgent message to Burgundy, telling him to overwhelm the cavalry by launching the left wing. In doing so, the French would be able to attack Cadogan from both flanks and crack his army like a walnut.

Like much of Vendome’s sound advice, it was disregarded. Burgundy’s staff reported incorrectly to him that his troops would be hopelessly caught in a morass if they descended from the left. To the eternal chagrin of Vendome, therefore, thirty thousand soldiers remained as passive spectators on the high ground. Instead of being crushed by greater numbers, the Allied forces were being steadily replenished. Tragically for the French, the messenger sent to inform Vendome that the left wing would not come to his aid was killed before he even reached the general. The message was thus never received. Vendome fought on courageously, waiting in vain for the requested left wing to join in, betrayed by Burgundy’s inexperience and by the false information on which the commander-in-chief based his decision.

Daniel was encouraged by what he saw. The cultivated fields and the widespread thickets deterred a French cavalry that would have held a distinct advantage. Instead, it was the superior infantry of the Allies on which the result would rest. Marlborough ensured that the battle didn’t drift into utter confusion. He gave it shape and direction. Daniel was employed as a galloper, carrying messages to and fro between the various generals. Seeing that Vendome’s forces were putting Cadogan under severe pressure, Marlborough brought up twenty battalions under the Duke of Argyll and extended the Allied flank westwards. In spite of repeated French attacks, the line held out. The very real danger of being swamped by enemy numbers had passed.

No sooner had Daniel returned to Marlborough’s side than he was dispatched to bring some other reinforcements into action, riding across the battleground with sabres flashing murderously all round him and musket balls whistling past his ear. Eugene, meanwhile, was given command of the right flank, leaving Marlborough to operate on the left. Over to the west, the captain general observed a rim of higher ground swinging round the perimeter of the battle, largely free of vegetation and suitable for cavalry. It was time to use General Overkirk’s troops, a combined force of Dutch infantry and cavalry. They were sent wide and deep to the enemy rear. Though he, too, was a sick man, leading his troops from the comfort of his coach, Overkirk responded to the call, following orders to send some of his men in a tighter turn against the flank of the French infantry line.

Daniel was galloping all over the battlefield, carrying orders and using his sword to hack a way past any opposition. He brought news to Marlborough that Eugene was hard-pressed on the right flank and twenty battalions of infantry and seventeen squadrons of British cavalry were immediately dispatched to his aid. When he looked down from higher ground at the field of battle, Daniel marvelled at the way Marlborough had marshalled his men, rushing reinforcements to vulnerable points and searching out points of potential weakness. It was in sharp contradistinction to the role of the French commander-in-chief. Still on higher ground, well behind the front, Burgundy was a helpless bystander who made no meaningful contribution. Far below him, the indefatigable Vendome was flailing away with his half-pike, too engrossed in the battle to be able to impose any control over it. Marlborough looked up at the sky. Evening was closing in.

‘How much more light do we have, Daniel?’ he asked.

‘No more than an hour, Your Grace,’ replied Daniel.

‘Then there’s no time for delay.’ After scribbling some orders, he handed them to Daniel. ‘Take this to General Overkirk with all speed possible. He is to attack.’

Burgundy could not believe what he saw. Masses of Dutch infantry and cavalry seemed to appear from nowhere and surge down the slopes like a waterfall. French cavalry, aching with fatigue and thinned out by heavy losses, turned to face the newcomers but they were swept aside by Overkirk’s men who rode deeper and deeper into the French rear, spreading panic wherever they went. Keeping a much tighter line, another part of the Dutch forces descended on the French to effect a double encirclement of them. The noose was slowly but inexorably tightened. One of the largest French armies ever to take the field was being strangled into submission. Indeed, so tight was the encirclement that the Dutch were, at one point, inadvertently firing at each other.