Lord Moira's force consisted mostly of infantry, with two batteries of six-pounders and a depleted regiment of light cavalry who were of little use apart from scouting and courier duties. Such a poorly balanced force would be vulnerable if the enemy managed to pin it down long enough to bring up sufficient artillery to finish them off. So they were kept on the move, driven hard by their officers and NCOs as they marched north-east under the blazing summer sunshine. In wool jackets, leather stocks and carrying over sixty pounds of equipment and supplies, the men were soon exhausted, and by dusk of the first day the column had already lost a handful of stragglers. Some would catch up during the course of the night, but those too unfit to rejoin their comrades would be at the mercy of the enemy.There were more stragglers on the second evening, and by now the French scouts were much closer to the column and Arthur heard the brief sound of distant shots as they finished off a small party of redcoats who had lingered behind the rest of the column.
The march resumed the next morning in an even more subdued tone and the light spirits that the men had evinced after quitting Ostend had gone, replaced by a sullen determination to keep going. At noon they halted a short distance from the village of Ondrecht where a bridge crossed over the Anhelm river, a small tributary of the Schelde.
'Down packs!' The order was relayed down the column and the men gratefully undid the buckles on the uncomfortable chest straps that restricted their breathing and set their packs down at the side of the road. The stoppers were pulled from canteens and the soldiers swigged a few gulps of tepid water into their parched mouths. Arthur made his way down the dusty road, exchanging a few words with the officers and trying to preserve the calm imperturbability that he believed a commanding officer should demonstrate to his subordinates.
As he remounted his horse, Arthur noticed a troop of British cavalry galloping across a field to the south. They approached the column at a tangent and then swerved towards the party of staff officers just behind the vanguard.
'There's trouble,' one of the sergeants muttered.
Sure enough, as Arthur watched, the ensign in command of the troop was gesticulating wildly to the south-east as he made his report to Lord Moira.The general quickly consulted with his staff officers and then one of them rode down the side of the column, bellowing orders. Behind him, officers and NCOs hurriedly formed their units up on the road, ready to continue the march. The staff officer was still some way off but Arthur decided not to delay for a moment.
'The regiment will form up!'
At once the men sitting along the sides of the road scrambled to their feet and struggled into their packs, snatched up their weapons and hurried into position. They stood still and ready to march as the staff officer reined in beside Wellington, scattering gravel and clods of dirt across the nearest men.
'General's respects, sir,' the staff officer saluted. 'Scouts report the enemy is approaching from the south. His Lordship fears the French might be trying to prevent us crossing the Anhelm.'
'What is the enemy's strength?'
'Scouts report two regiments of cavalry, a battery of horse artillery, and several battalions of infantry following on a mile behind.'
'How far away are they?'
'Ten, maybe eleven miles. At least they were when the scouts observed them.'
'Ten miles?' Arthur frowned as he made some hurried calculations. The French were three hours away, at the most. The bridge over the Anhelm was at least four miles down the road. There was a good chance that the enemy cavalry would catch the column before it could cross to safety. The race was on.
Arthur smiled grimly. He looked at the staff officer and nodded. 'Very well. My compliments to Lord Moira. Tell him we will do our best to keep up.'
'Yes, sir.' The staff officer saluted, wheeled his mount round and galloped back towards the head of the column, already moving off down the road and stirring up a dusty haze as they advanced at a fast pace. One by one the units of the British column edged forward, until at last Arthur gave the order for his regiment to march. Easing his horse out to one side of the road, Arthur watched his men pass by for a moment before he reached inside the saddlebag for his spyglass. He scanned the land to the south. Although it was a hot day with a heat haze along the horizon, he soon spotted the thick pall of dust that marked the enemy column.The French must be aware of the position of the British column. If their commander was quick-witted enough, very soon he would be giving orders for his cavalry to move ahead to try to cut Lord Moira's column off from the bridge at Ondrecht. It would have to be a delaying action since the British would outnumber them, but if the French cavalry could hold the column back long enough for their artillery and infantry to come up in support, then, Arthur realised, the British would be in a very difficult situation. Particularly if…
He twisted in the saddle and turned his spyglass back along the road to the east. Sure enough there was another faint cloud of dust behind them. Snapping the spyglass shut he trotted back along the side of the regiment until he found Fitzroy and then eased his mount in alongside his friend. He leaned slightly towards Fitzroy and spoke quietly.
'Get forward to the general. Tell him there's another enemy column coming up behind us. Don't be too hasty. Doesn't look good in front of the men. They've enough to worry about already.'
'Yes, sir.' Fitzroy instinctively looked back over his shoulder, but the view was shrouded with dust kicked up by the men of the 33rd. He clicked his tongue and with a twitch of the reins steered his horse out of line and then trotted up the side of the road.
By the time the British column came in sight of the quiet village of Ondrecht the first squadrons of enemy cavalry were visible, trotting across the fields. A short distance behind them came the artillery, bouncing along as the gun crews clung to their caissons.Arthur nodded to himself grimly; the enemy commander had missed a trick in not sending these units forward at once. Now they would only be able to harass the British as they crossed the bridge. Much more worrying was the force approaching from behind them. The cloud of dust had rapidly closed on the rear of the column and it was clear that they were being pursued by a large force of cavalry. Even now, with Ondrecht in sight, Arthur could see his men glancing back with anxious expressions. It was time to put an end to that, Arthur decided.
'Sergeant Major!'
'Sir?'
'I want the next man who looks back down the road to be placed on a charge!'
'Yes, sir.'The sergeant major took a deep breath and bellowed to the men, 'You 'eard the colonel! If I sees one of you so much as take a glimpse at them Frogs, then I'll break yer bloody legs!'
The vanguard of the column quickly crossed the bridge and occupied the buildings on the far bank of the Anhelm, ignoring the angry shouts of protest and piteous wailing of their occupants. Lord Moira positioned another battalion on the southern fringe of the village to protect his flank as the rest of the column began to cross the bridge, an ancient stone affair that was just wide enough for the gun carriages to cross carefully. Even so, the bottleneck slowed the column's progress to a crawl, and all the while the enemy force was swiftly closing on its tail where Arthur and the men of the 33rd Foot stood impatiently, willing the men ahead of them to hurry on.
The sudden dull thud of cannon fire drew Arthur's attention back to the enemy's advance force to the south of the village. A thin band of smoke hid the guns and their crews for a moment before the silhouettes emerged through the haze as the French loaded more shot. Some distance in front of them a screen of dragoons had advanced close enough to the village to open fire and the air soon filled with the crackling sound of the shots they exchanged with the British infantry guarding the flank. Still the column ahead of Arthur did not move. Behind, the first outriders of the enemy force pursuing them had ridden into view and now reined in, keeping close watch on the British column. There was no avoiding it, Arthur realised; they were going to have to fight their way across the bridge. He called one of his ensigns over.