Soldier of Fortune

'He must be called to account,' said Marlborough sternly.

'He will be. At least I know what to expect next time.'

'Next time?'

'Yes, Your Grace,' said Daniel philosophically. 'A man who's gone to such lengths to kill me will not give up after one failure. And, by now, he'll have realised that there was a terrible mistake.'

'Keep men around you at all time,' Marlborough urged. 'We can't afford to lose you, Daniel, especially now that we're getting closer to a confrontation with the French.'

'I'll take sensible precautions from now on but I won't surround myself with an armed guard. I want this man — or these men — to come in search of me again. It's the only way to be sure of catching them, Your Grace.'

'What — by acting as bait on the hook?'

'By giving the appearance of doing so,' said Daniel with a grim smile. 'Richard Hopwood was a friend of mine and a keen soldier. His family deserves some consolation. They need to be told that we've caught and punished the villains responsible for his death.'

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

The Confederate army continued its march south. Crossing the River Neckar, a tributary of the Rhine, they were joined by the expected reinforcements from Denmark and Prussia, thereby adding 14,000 soldiers to the army and instilling fresh confidence in it as a result. French spies watched the army's progress and sent regular reports to the King in Versailles as well as to his two leading commanders, Marshal Camille d'Hostun, Comte de Tallard and Marshal Francois Villeroi, a royal favourite but an uninspiring soldier. Early fears that Marlborough intended to invade Alsace had proved groundless as had the anxiety over a potential attack on the French fortress of Landau. When these objectives were discounted, observers concluded that the armies of the Grand Alliance were doing something considered to be unthinkable. They were heading for the Danube.

It was not a forced march but neither was it leisurely. Marching early each morning, they went on for three or four days then rested for a day. They were travelling through the countries of allies who had been forewarned of their approach. Commissaries had therefore been appointed to see to the needs of both men and horses. Whenever they reached the site of their next camp, everything was in readiness. All that the soldiers had to do was to pitch their tents, boil their kettles and sit down to rest. They were in good heart

Louis XIV received news of developments in a towering rage.

'Marlborough had this planned in advance,' he roared at the group of advisers gathered around him at Versailles. 'Why did we know nothing about it?'

'The Duke has been very guileful,' ventured one man, electing to speak on behalf of the others.

'That's no excuse. We have enough spies in his army. Surely, one of them could have found out what his true intentions were. How can we stop him if we do not know where he is going?'

'But we do know, Your Majesty. His destination is the Danube.'

'What does he propose to do on the way?' demanded the king.

'That remains to be seen.'

'I can't wait for it to be seen, man. I want it anticipated now. What's the point of military advisers if they haven't the intelligence or the foresight to give me good counsel? Not one of you guessed what Marlborough's strategy was,' he said, glaring accusingly around the group. 'Not one of you ever mentioned the possibility of a march to the Danube. French armies should dictate events as they've always done in the past, not be forced to respond to them as we're doing now.'

'Marlborough has finally shown his hand, Your Majesty,' said the spokesman, an elderly man with a pock-marked face, 'and we can therefore take appropriate action.'

'What do you believe that should be?'

'Strengthen our army between them and their destination.'

'We can't just build a barrier against their approach,' said Louis. 'There's always the chance they can march around it. Just look how steadily they are moving — almost 250 miles in a bare five weeks. Each time they reach camp,' he added irritably, 'they find food, drink and all other necessaries awaiting them. In short, they are expected — by everyone except us, damn it!'

The advisers exchanged nervous glances. They were used to making decisions about a French army whose power and expertise had made it universally feared. Since they were not acquainted with major failures and setbacks, they did not instantly know how to deal with them. Their spokesman was tentative.

'What would you suggest, Your Majesty?' he asked.

'I'd suggest that I need some new advisers.' There was a flurry of protest from the others but he waved them into silence. 'My strategy is this. We must separate Marlborough from his ally, Prince Eugene of Savoy. To that end, I will send Marshal Villeroi, with 40 battalions and 70 squadrons to keep Eugene occupied.'

'A wise decision,' said the spokesmen amid a chorus of approval from the others. 'What of Marshal Tallard?'

'He'll take an army of 40 battalions and 50 squadrons through the Black Forest to join Marshal Marsin and the Elector of Bavaria.' He saw the reservation in the man's eyes. 'Do you have any objection that that?'

'Not in the least, Your Majesty.'

'Tell the truth, man. I sense reluctance.'

'It's consent tempered by a slight anxiety,' explained the man. 'The Black Forest is a mountainous area. Our army would have to march through hostile territory under the most difficult conditions.'

'It's the most direct route.'

'Then you must prepare for losses along the way.'

'Don't tell me about losses,' snapped Louis, smacking the arm of his chair. 'I've controlled my armies for decades now so I know all about the losses they are bound to sustain. Marshal Marsin and the Elector need reinforcements and that's what they will get.'

The man nodded obsequiously. 'Yes, Your Majesty.'

'Whatever happens, Marlborough must not be allowed to cross the Danube. That's an article of faith with me.'

'The best place to cross is Donauworth,' said another of the advisers, 'where the Wornitz river meets the Danube. 'I've been there, Your Majesty. It's guarded by a fortified hill called the Schellenberg and that's almost impossible to storm. Of one thing I believe we can be assured,' he continued, looking around his colleagues with a smug smile. 'The Allied armies will never be permitted to cross the Danube.'

Edward Marston

Soldier of Fortune

'We must cross the Danube,' said Marlborough, poring over the map laid out on a table in his tent.

'It will not be easy, Your Grace,' warned Eugene. 'Marshal Marsin and the Elector have established a camp in Dillingen — right here.' His finger prodded the map. 'A smaller force is guarding Donauworth and the heights above it. Even as we speak, they will be improving fortifications on the Schellenberg.'

'We shall have to take the hill.'

'You'll have to pay a high price in blood to do so.'

'It will be worth it.'

'I agree,' said Eugene. 'It is bold, brave and unexpected. The French never dreamt you would come this far into Germany. You have kept them guessing at every point, Your Grace. That's the mark of a great commander.'

Prince Eugene of Savoy spoke with authority, having been a keen student of military history. He was a slim, pale, almost effeminate man of forty with protruding front teeth and a misshapen nose. Notwithstanding his ugliness and his unwillingness to wash as often as he should, he was a skilful general. The irony was that he had been brought up in the French court where his ambitions to be a soldier were ridiculed by King Louis who decreed that the puny youth of sixteen, as he had once been, should enter the church.

Forced to receive a tonsure and wear a cassock, Eugene sought succour in the work of Plutarch and others who wrote about heroes of the Ancient World. He remained in France until he could endure the king's arrogance no more, seeking a military career elsewhere and vowing that he would only ever return at the head of an army. An unlikely soldier, he nevertheless turned out to have great skill in the field and his support was prized by Marlborough. Had he been allowed to join the French army, as he had once wished, Eugene would now be fighting against the Grand Alliance. In treating him with such disdain, Louis XIV had created a dangerous enemy with an army of 28,000 men at his back.