The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars by G. A. Henty (best motivational novels TXT) 📗

bravely. The consumption of ammunition was so enormous, that his supplies were almost exhausted, and a great army lay directly upon his line of communication. It became a matter of necessity that the place should be taken. Immense efforts were made to secure the success of the assault. Enormous quantities of fascines were made for filling up the ditch, and 5000 British troops were sent by Marlborough from his army to lead the assault.

Rupert Holliday, with many other officers, accompanied this body as a volunteer. The troops were drawn up as the afternoon grew late, and just as it became dark they advanced to the assault.

The besieged in the outworks assaulted were supported by the fire of the cannon and musketry of the ramparts behind, from which, so soon as the dense masses of the stormers advanced, a stream of flame issued. So tremendous was the carnage, that three times the troops recoiled before the storm of balls.

On the fourth occasion Eugene himself led them to the assault, on either side of him were the Princes of Orange and Hesse, and a number of officers.

"Remember Hochstadt, Ramilies, and Oudenarde!" the prince shouted; but scarcely had he spoken when he was struck to the ground by a bullet, which struck and glanced over the left eye.

Then the troops dashed forward, and forced their way into the outwork. The French fought with magnificent resolution; and were from time to time reinforced by parties from the city.

For two hours the fight raged. With bayonets and clubbed muskets, hand to hand, the troops fought. No one flinched or gave way; indeed it was safer to be in the front line than behind; for in front friends and foes were so mixed together, that the French on the ramparts were unable to fire, but had to direct their aim at the masses behind.

At last the allies gained ground. Gradually, foot by foot, the French were thrust back; and Rupert, who had been fighting desperately in the front line of the stormers' party, directed his efforts to a part where a French officer still held his ground, nobly backed by his men. The piled up dead in front of them showed how strenuous had been the resistance to the advancing wave of the allies.

Rupert gradually reached the spot, and had no difficulty in placing himself vis-a-vis to the French officer; for so terrible was his skill, that others willingly turned aside to attack less dangerous opponents. In a moment the swords crossed!

The light was a strange one, flickering and yet constant, with the thousands of firearms, which kept up an unceasing roar. The swords clashed and ground together, and after a pass or two both men drew back. A bright flash from a musket not a yard away threw a bright though momentary light on their faces.

"Monsieur Dessin!" Rupert exclaimed, in delight.

"What! Is it possible?" the Frenchman exclaimed. "Rupert Holliday!"

At the moment there was a tremendous rush of the British. The French were borne back, and hurled over the edge of the outwork; and before Rupert could avert the blow, the butt end of a musket fell with great force upon his late opponent's head.

Rupert leapt forward, and lifting him in his arms, made his way with him to the rear; for with that last rush the fight was over, and the allies had established themselves in the left demi-bastion of the outwork--an important advantage, but one which had cost them 5000 killed and wounded, of whom 3000 belonged to the English force, whom Marlborough had sent. The fact that more than half of them were hors-de-combat showed how fiercely they had fought.

Owing to the wound of Prince Eugene, the Duke of Marlborough had to direct the operations of the siege as well as to command the army in the field. On the 23rd he followed up the advantage gained on the 20th, by a fresh attack in two columns, each 5000 strong, and headed by 500 English troops. After being three times repulsed, these succeeded in maintaining a lodgment in another outwork; losing, however, 1000 men in the attack, the greater part being destroyed by the explosion of a mine.

Both besiegers and besieged were now becoming straitened for ammunition, for the consumption had been immense. The French generals succeeded in passing a supply into the fortress in a very daring manner.

On the night of the 28th, 2500 horsemen set out from Douai, under the command of the Chevalier de Luxembourg, each having forty pounds of powder in his valise. They arrived at the gate of the walls of circumvallation, when the Dutch sentry cried out:

"Who comes there?"

"Open quickly!" the leader answered in the same language; "I am closely pursued by the French."

The sentry opened the gate, and the horsemen began to pass in. Eighteen hundred had passed without suspicion being excited, when one of the officers, seeing that his men were not keeping close up, gave the command in French:

"Close up! close up!"

The captain of the guard caught the words, and suspecting something, ordered the party to halt; and then, as they still rode in, ordered the guard to fire. The discharge set fire to three of the powder bags, and the explosion spreading from one to another, sixty men and horses were killed. The portion of the troops still outside the gate fled, but the 800 who had passed in rode forward through the allied camp and entered the town in safety, with 70,000 pounds of powder!

Another deed of gallantry, equal to anything ever told in fiction, was performed by a Captain Dubois of the French army. It was a matter of the highest importance for the French generals to learn the exact state of things at Lille. Captain Dubois volunteered to enter the fortress by water. He accordingly left the French camp, and swimming through seven canals, entered the Dyle near the place where it entered the besiegers' lines. He then dived, and aided by the current, swam under water for an incredibly long distance, so as entirely to elude the observation of the sentinels. He arrived in safety in the town, exhausted with his great exertions.

After having had dry clothes put on him, and having taken some refreshment, he was conducted round the walls by Marshal Boufflers, who showed him all the defensive works, and explained to him the whole circumstances of the position. The next night he again set out by the Dyle, carrying dispatches in an envelope of wax in his mouth, and after diving as before through the dangerous places, and running innumerable risks of detection, he arrived in safety in the French camp.

But it was not the French alone who had run short of ammunition. Marlborough had also been greatly straitened, and there being now no possibility of getting through convoys from Brussels, he persuaded the home government to direct a considerable expedition, which had been collected for the purpose of exciting an alarm on the coast of Normandy, and was now on board ship in the Downs, to be sent to Ostend. It arrived there, to the number of fourteen battalions and an abundant supply of ammunition, on the 23rd of September; and Marlborough detached 15,000 men from his army to protect the convoy on its way up.

On the 27th of September, the convoy started, crossed the canal of Nieuport at Leffinghen, and directed its course by Slype to defile through the woods of Wyndendale. General Webb, who commanded the troops detached for its protection, took post with 8000 men to defend its passage through the wood, which was the most dangerous portion of the journey, while Cadogan with the rest of the force was stationed at Hoglede to cover the march farther on.

Vendome had received information of the march of the column, and detached Monsieur de la Mathe with 20,000 men to intercept the convoy. At five in the evening the force approached the wood, through which the convoy was then filing. Webb posted his men in the bushes, and when the French--confident in the great superiority of numbers which they knew that they possessed--advanced boldly, they were received by such a terrible fire of musketry, poured in at a distance of a hundred yards, that they fell into confusion. They, however, rallied, and made desperate efforts to penetrate the wood, but they were over and over again driven back, and after two hours' fighting they retired, leaving the convoy to pass on in safety to the camp.

In this glorious action 8000 English defeated 20,000 French, and inflicted on them a loss of 4000 killed and wounded. Several fresh assaults were now made, and gradually the allies won ground, until, on the eve of the grand assault, Marshal Boufflers surrendered the town, and retired with the survivors of the defenders into the citadel, which held out for another month, and then also surrendered. In this memorable siege, the greatest--with the exception of that of Sebastopol--that has ever taken place in history, the allies lost 3632 men killed, 8322 wounded, in all 11,954; and over 7000 from sickness. Of the garrison, originally 15,000 strong, and reinforced by the 1800 horsemen who made their way through the allied camp, but 4500 remained alive at the time of the final capitulation.

Marshall Boufflers only surrendered the citadel on the express order of Louis the 14th not to throw away any more lives of the brave men under him. At the time of the surrender the last flask of powder was exhausted, and the garrison had long been living on horseflesh.

After Lille had fallen, Marlborough, by a feint of going into winter quarters, threw the French generals off their guard; and then by a rapid dash through their lines fell upon Ghent and Bruges, and recaptured those cities before Vendome had time to collect and bring up his army to save them.

Then ended one of the most remarkable campaigns in the annals of our own or any other history.

Chapter 24: Adele.

"My dear, dear lad," the Marquis of Pignerolles said, as he made his way with Rupert back out of the throng in the captured outwork; "what miracle is this? I heard that you had died at Loches."

"A mistake, as you see," Rupert laughed. "But I shall tell you all presently. First, how is mademoiselle?"

"Well, I trust," the marquis said; "but I have not heard of her for eighteen months. I have been a prisoner in the Bastille, and was only let out two months since, together with some other officers, in order to take part in the defence of Lille. Even then I should not have been allowed to volunteer, had it not been that the Duc de Carolan, Adele's persecutor, was killed; and his Majesty's plans having been thus necessarily upset, he was for the time being less anxious to know what had become of Adele."

"In that case you have to thank me for your deliverance," Rupert said; "for it was I who killed monsieur le duc, and never in my life did I strike a blow with a heartier goodwill."

"You!" the marquis exclaimed in astonishment; "but I might have guessed it. I inquired about his death when I reached Lille, and was told by an officer who was there that he was killed in an extraordinary combat, in which General Mouffler, a trooper, and himself were put hors de combat in sight of the whole army, by a deserter of demoniacal strength, skill, and activity. I ought to have recognized you at once; and no doubt should have done so, had I not heard that you were dead. I never was so shocked, dear boy, in all my life, and have done nothing but blame myself for allowing you to run so fearful a risk."

On arriving at the camp Rupert presented his prisoner to the Duke of Marlborough, who having, when Rupert rejoined, heard the story of his discovery in the Marquis de Pignerolles of his old friend Monsieur Dessin, received him with great kindness, and told him that he was free to go where he liked until arrangements could be made for his exchange. Rupert then took him to his tent, where they sat for many hours talking.

Rupert learned that after his escape from Lille the marquis was for three weeks confined to his bed. Before the end of that time a messenger brought him a letter from Adele, saying that she was well and comfortable. When he was able to travel he repaired at once to Versailles; having received a peremptory order from the king, a few days after Rupert left, to repair to the court the instant he could be moved. He found his Majesty in the worst of humours; the disappearance of Adele had thwarted his plan, and Louis the 14th was not a man accustomed to be baulked in his intentions. The news of Rupert's escape from Lille had further enraged him, as he connected it with Adele's disappearance; and the fact that the capture of Rupert had thrown no light upon Adele's hiding place