Chapter XII. I Get A Company In The Campaign Of 1706
On Whit Sunday, the famous 23rd of May, 1706, my young lord first cameunder the fire of the enemy, whom we found posted in order of battle,their lines extending three miles or more, over the high ground behind thelittle Gheet river, and having on his left the little village of Anderkirkor Autre-eglise, and on his right Ramillies, which has given its name toone of the most brilliant and disastrous days of battle that history everhath recorded.
Our duke here once more met his old enemy of Blenheim, the BavarianElector and the Mareschal Villeroy, over whom the Prince of Savoy hadgained the famous victory of Chiari. What Englishman or Frenchman doth notknow the issue of that day? Having chosen his own ground, having a forcesuperior to the English, and besides the excellent Spanish and Bavariantroops, the whole Maison-du-Roy with him, the most splendid body of horsein the world,--in an hour (and in spite of the prodigious gallantry of theFrench Royal Household, who charged through the centre of our line andbroke it), this magnificent army of Villeroy was utterly routed by troopsthat had been marching for twelve hours, and by the intrepid skill of acommander, who did, indeed, seem in the presence of the enemy to be thevery Genius of Victory.
I think it was more from conviction than policy, though that policy wassurely the most prudent in the world, that the great duke always spoke ofhis victories with an extraordinary modesty, and as if it was not so muchhis own admirable genius and courage which achieved these amazingsuccesses, but as if he was a special and fatal instrument in the hands ofProvidence, that willed irresistibly the enemy's overthrow. Before hisactions he always had the church service read solemnly, and professed anundoubting belief that our queen's arms were blessed and our victory sure.All the letters which he writ after his battles show awe rather thanexultation; and he attributes the glory of these achievements, about whichI have heard mere petty officers and men bragging with a pardonablevainglory, in no wise to his own bravery or skill, but to thesuperintending protection of Heaven, which he ever seemed to think was ourespecial ally. And our army got to believe so, and the enemy learnt tothink so too; for we never entered into a battle without a perfectconfidence that it was to end in a victory; nor did the French, after theissue of Blenheim, and that astonishing triumph of Ramillies, ever meet uswithout feeling that the game was lost before it was begun to be played,and that our general's fortune was irresistible. Here, as at Blenheim, theduke's charger was shot, and 'twas thought for a moment he was dead. As hemounted another, Binfield, his master of the horse, kneeling to hold hisgrace's stirrup, had his head shot away by a cannon-ball. A Frenchgentleman of the Royal Household, that was a prisoner with us, told thewriter that at the time of the charge of the Household, when their horseand ours were mingled, an Irish officer recognized the Prince-Duke, andcalling out--"Marlborough, Marlborough!" fired his pistol at him _a boutportant_, and that a score more carbines and pistols were discharged athim. Not one touched him: he rode through the French Cuirassiers sword inhand, and entirely unhurt, and calm and smiling rallied the German horse,that was reeling before the enemy, brought these and twenty squadrons ofOrkney's back upon them, and drove the French across the riveragain--leading the charge himself, and defeating the only dangerous movethe French made that day.
Major-General Webb commanded on the left of our line, and had his ownregiment under the orders of their beloved colonel. Neither he nor theybelied their character for gallantry on this occasion; but it was abouthis dear young lord that Esmond was anxious, never having sight of himsave once, in the whole course of the day, when he brought an order fromthe commander-in-chief to Mr. Webb. When our horse, having charged roundthe right flank of the enemy by Overkirk, had thrown him into entireconfusion, a general advance was made, and our whole line of foot,crossing the little river and the morass, ascended the high ground wherethe French were posted, cheering as they went, the enemy retreating beforethem. 'Twas a service of more glory than danger, the French battalionsnever waiting to exchange push of pike or bayonet with ours; and thegunners flying from their pieces which our line left behind us as theyadvanced, and the French fell back.
At first it was a retreat orderly enough; but presently the retreat becamea rout, and a frightful slaughter of the French ensued on this panic; sothat an army of sixty thousand men was utterly crushed and destroyed inthe course of a couple of hours. It was as if a hurricane had seized acompact and numerous fleet, flung it all to the winds, shattered, sunk,and annihilated it; _afflavit Deus, et dissipati sunt_. The French army ofFlanders was gone, their artillery, their standards, their treasure,provisions, and ammunition were all left behind them: the poor devils hadeven fled without their soup-kettles, which are as much the palladia ofthe French infantry as of the Grand Signor's Janizaries, and round whichthey rally even more than round their lilies.
The pursuit, and a dreadful carnage which ensued (for the dregs of abattle, however brilliant, are ever a base residue of rapine, cruelty, anddrunken plunder), was carried far beyond the field of Ramillies.
Honest Lockwood, Esmond's servant, no doubt wanted to be among themarauders himself and take his share of the booty; for when, the actionover, and the troops got to their ground for the night, the captain badeLockwood get a horse, he asked, with a very rueful countenance, whetherhis honour would have him come too; but his honour only bade him go abouthis own business, and Jack hopped away quite delighted as soon as he sawhis master mounted. Esmond made his way, and not without danger anddifficulty, to his grace's head quarters, and found for himself veryquickly where the aides de camp's quarters were, in an outbuilding of afarm, where several of these gentlemen were seated, drinking and singing,and at supper. If he had any anxiety about his boy, 'twas relieved atonce. One of the gentlemen was singing a song to a tune that Mr. Farquharand Mr. Gay both had used in their admirable comedies, and very popular inthe army of that day; after the song came a chorus, "Over the hills andfar away"; and Esmond heard Frank's fresh voice soaring, as it were, overthe songs of the rest of the young men--a voice that had always a certainartless, indescribable pathos with it, and indeed which caused Mr.Esmond's eyes to fill with tears now, out of thankfulness to God the childwas safe and still alive to laugh and sing.
When the song was over Esmond entered the room, where he knew several ofthe gentlemen present, and there sat my young lord, having taken off hiscuirass, his waistcoat open, his face flushed, his long yellow hairhanging over his shoulders, drinking with the rest; the youngest, gayest,handsomest there. As soon as he saw Esmond, he clapped down his glass, andrunning towards his friend, put both his arms round him and embraced him.The other's voice trembled with joy as he greeted the lad; he had thoughtbut now as he stood in the courtyard under the clear-shining moonlight:"Great God! what a scene of murder is here within a mile of us; whathundreds and thousands have faced danger to-day; and here are these ladssinging over their cups, and the same moon that is shining over yonderhorrid field is looking down on Walcote very likely, while my lady sitsand thinks about her boy that is at the war." As Esmond embraced his youngpupil now, 'twas with the feeling of quite religious thankfulness, and analmost paternal pleasure that he beheld him.
Round his neck was a star with a striped ribbon, that was made of smallbrilliants and might be worth a hundred crowns. "Look," says he, "won'tthat be a pretty present for mother?"
"Who gave you the Order?" says Harry, saluting the gentleman: "did you winit in battle?"
"I won it," cried the other, "with my sword and my spear. There was amousquetaire that had it round his neck--such a big mousquetaire, as big asGeneral Webb. I called out to him to surrender, and that I'd give himquarter: he called me a _petit polisson_, and fired his pistol at me, andthen sent it at my head with a curse. I rode at him, sir, drove my swordright under his arm-hole, and broke it in the rascal's body. I found apurse in his holster with sixty-five louis in it, and a bundle oflove-letters, and a flask of Hungary-water. _Vive la guerre!_ there arethe ten pieces you lent me. I should like to have
a fight every day;" andhe pulled at his little moustache and bade a servant bring a supper toCaptain Esmond.
Harry fell to with a very good appetite; he had tasted nothing sincetwenty hours ago, at early dawn. Master Grandson, who read this, do youlook for the history of battles and sieges? Go, find them in the properbooks; this is only the story of your grandfather and his family. Far morepleasant to him than the victory, though for that too he may say_meminisse juvat_, it was to find that the day was over, and his dearyoung Castlewood was unhurt.
And would you, sirrah, wish to know how it was that a sedate captain offoot, a studious and rather solitary bachelor of eight or nine and twentyyears of age, who did not care very much for the jollities which hiscomrades engaged in, and was never known to lose his heart in any garrisontown--should you wish to know why such a man had so prodigious atenderness, and tended so fondly a boy of eighteen, wait, my good friend,until thou art in love with thy schoolfellow's sister, and then see howmighty tender thou wilt be towards him. Esmond's general and his grace theprince-duke were notoriously at variance, and the former's friendship wasin no wise likely to advance any man's promotion, of whose services Webbspoke well; but rather likely to injure him, so the army said, in thefavour of the greater man. However, Mr. Esmond had the good fortune to bementioned very advantageously by Major-General Webb in his report afterthe action; and the major of his regiment and two of the captains havingbeen killed upon the day of Ramillies, Esmond, who was second of thelieutenants, got his company, and had the honour of serving as CaptainEsmond in the next campaign.
My lord went home in the winter, but Esmond was afraid to follow him. Hisdear mistress wrote him letters more than once, thanking him, as mothersknow how to thank, for his care and protection of her boy, extollingEsmond's own merits with a great deal more praise than they deserved; forhe did his duty no better than any other officer; and speaking sometimes,though gently and cautiously, of Beatrix. News came from home of at leasthalf a dozen grand matches that the beautiful maid of honour was about tomake. She was engaged to an earl, our gentlemen of St. James's said, andthen jilted him for a duke, who, in his turn, had drawn off. Earl or dukeit might be who should win this Helen, Esmond knew she would never bestowherself on a poor captain. Her conduct, it was clear, was littlesatisfactory to her mother, who scarcely mentioned her, or else the kindlady thought it was best to say nothing, and leave time to work out itscure. At any rate, Harry was best away from the fatal object which alwayswrought him so much mischief; and so he never asked for leave to go home,but remained with his regiment that was garrisoned in Brussels, which cityfell into our hands when the victory of Ramillies drove the French out ofFlanders.