Dobbs didn't have to nudge his friend again. Someone rode up on a horse and turned the animal so that its flank knocked Hillier sideways, making him struggle to retain his balance. Looking down from the saddle was Major Cracknell.
'Watch where you're going, you numbskull,' he barked.
'I'm sorry, Major,' said Hillier, dully.
'I hope you keep your eyes open when battle commences.'
'Yes, Major.'
'You have a job to do.'
'Yes, Major.'
'Only time will tell if you've the stomach for a fight. I doubt very much if you have. It's always the same with the dregs of humanity we have to endure in our ranks. They're all cowards.'
'Begging your pardon, Major,' said Dobbs, defensively, 'but that's unfair on Tom. I know how brave he can be.'
'I don't see any bravery in dropping his breeches for a whore,' said Cracknell. 'Bravery is what a man shows in battle.' 'Yes, Major.'
'Did you hear that, Hillier?'
There was a long, considered pause. 'Yes, Major,' he said.
Daniel had never admired the Duke of Marlborough as much. He'd fought under his command in major battles before but had never been near him during the action. As part of his staff, he now had the privilege of watching him at close quarters. The person beside him was very different to the suave, urbane, congenial diplomat who was at ease in the courts of Europe. What he saw now was John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough, a soldier to his fingertips, bold, calm, decisive, vigilant, unflustered and bristling with energy, a supreme commander at the height of his powers. Despair and disappointment were behind him now. Marlborough had a golden opportunity for glory.
His army had been drawn up in standard battle formation. British battalions and squadrons were positioned in a double line near the Jeuche stream, their scarlet uniforms resplendent in the sun. The bulk of the Allied infantry — some 30,000 or more — occupied the centre ground opposite Offus and Ramillies. On their left were 69 squadrons of Dutch and Danish horse under the command of General Overkirk. Battalions of Dutch Guards were stationed on the extreme left. Daniel had noted the meticulous care with which Marlborough had sited his artillery. In all, he had 100 cannon and 20 howitzers at his disposal. A battery of 24-pounders was gathered in a cluster facing Ramillies. Other batteries overlooked the Gheete and a couple of pieces were attached to the Dutch Guards on the far left. On a battlefield as wide as this, artillery could never dictate the outcome because whole areas were beyond its reach. Marlborough had put his guns where they could do most damage and offer most protection to the cavalry and infantry.
Against this array of Allied power, Villeroi had marshalled his men along a concave line. On his extreme right were five battalions in Taviers and Franquenee. The main right wing of the Franco-Bavarian army consisted of 82 squadrons, interlined with brigades of infantry, facing the open plain. In the centre were 20 battalions and a dozen of the lethal triple-barrelled cannon were placed around Ramillies with additional foot in the rear. Overlooking the Little Gheete further north were more battalions and guns. As a final part of his deployment, Villeroi had put 50 squadrons of horse around the village of Autre- Eglise which, with Offus, was intended to anchor the left flank. There was one serious oversight. Because he deemed the marshes around the rivers impassable, the French commander had sent no troops to defend them.
Daniel was tingling with anticipatory delight as he scanned the battlefield. He felt certain that a momentous victory could be achieved. Of the two armies, neither had a marked numerical advantage but he knew that the Allied artillery was far superior. Marlborough had deployed his men in a more compact formation. While Daniel had been impressed by this, he didn't underestimate the enemy. Marshal Villeroi was an experienced and able commander, determined not to repeat the mistakes made by Marshal Tallard at Blenheim. His army was strongly posted but, as Daniel was quick to observe, in deciding to stand on the defensive, he'd surrendered the initiative. It was left to Marlborough to make the opening moves.
Early in the afternoon, the guns fired and the battle began. The extremities of the Allied line were called into play first. Attacking in the south, the Dutch Guards used their two cannon to smash a way through houses and walls. Within a couple of hours, they'd overrun both Taviers and Franquenee. Alarmed by this development, Villeroi launched a counter-attack, sending squadrons of dragoons and battalions of Swiss troops, supported by a Bavarian brigade. It was a calamitous exercise. When the dragoons dismounted among the marshes, they were at the mercy of an advancing Danish cavalry that swept quickly through them. The Swiss took to their heels in panic and most of the Bavarians joined in the retreat. There was now a serious threat to the French on their right wing.
Meanwhile, Marlborough was also probing on the other flank. Under the command of General Lord Orkney, a redoubtable Scot, the massed British battalions were dispatched in the direction of Offus, near which the enemy command post had been set up. Villeroi's judgement had failed him. Having believed the marshes on that flank to be impassable, he now watched with growing consternation as waves of British soldiers trudged through them over fascines. Every time the smoke of gunfire cleared, the lines could be seen getting ever closer, marching to the beat of the drums. With each new burst of cannon or musketry fire from the French, scores of redcoats toppled to the ground with fatal wounds or gruesome injuries. They were immediately used as stepping stones through the quagmire, dead bodies or stray limbs being gathered up indiscriminately and pressed into service as auxiliary fascines. French gunfire was unrelenting but the battalions kept surging on and the drums never faltered. Tom Hillier, Hugh Dobbs and the others kept their nerve in the hail of musket balls and maintained their line. In spite of the pounding it took, the advance continued with a sense of inevitability, climbing the slope to the ridgeline until it passed the outlying farms. It reached the very walls of Offus and Autre-Eglise, dispersing the garrisons in each village and hunting them from building to building.
Observing it all from a vantage point, Daniel was thrilled by the apparent success of the thrust on the right. He was therefore amazed when Marlborough handed him a dispatch for Orkney.
'They must withdraw immediately,' said Marlborough.
Daniel gaped. 'Withdraw?' he said. 'When they clearly have the advantage?'
'Deliver my orders, Daniel.'
'At once, Your Grace.'
'And please don't question them again.'
'No, Your Grace.'
Daniel spurred his horse into a gallop down the slope. Though he preferred to be in the thick of the fighting, he was given a taste of its ferocity as he sped across the plain. Cannon were still booming and muskets still popping. Smoke was everywhere. Wounded horses neighed in agony as they threshed about on the ground. Despairing cries of dying soldiers swelled the pandemonium. When he rode up the slope towards the main action, Daniel had to evade mounds of corpses. Lord Orkney's troops were outnumbered yet they still continued to advance, engaging in fierce hand-to-hand fighting against French and Walloon infantry. Locating the commander amid the fray, Daniel handed him the dispatch and waited for him to read it.
Orkney was outraged. 'Pray, what's this?' he yelled. 'His Grace wishes us to retire across the Gheete? I've no mind to give ground while we're giving no quarter.'
'Those are your orders, my lord,' said Daniel.
'And damn vexatious orders they are! We're on the point of occupying Offus. We fought our way here through a blizzard of bullets and round shot. Are we to abandon what we've gained?'
'I'm sure the decision has great merit.'
Daniel left him fuming and galloped off in the opposite direction. On his way back, deafened by the noise of battle, he recognised another of Marlborough's ADCs riding towards the right flank and he wondered if the orders he'd just delivered had been countermanded. In fact, they were being reinforced. To make sure that his commands were obeyed, Marlborough sent no fewer than ten consecutive dispatches to Orkney. He even sent Cadogan, to make sure that the withdrawal was swift and orderly. The attack was called off. Angry, bewildered and feeling let down, Orkney retired with exemplary skill, sustaining losses in doing so but beating off any attempts by the French to pursue them. In obedience to Marlborough's orders, the battalions drew up on the other side of the Gheete, wholly at a loss to understand why their incisive strike had been suddenly halted.