This was a serious disaster, as, by the rout of the Hanoverians the connexion between Marlborough's army and that of Prince Eugene was broken.

Marlborough's eye, however, was everywhere; and galloping to the spot, he put himself at the head of some squadrons of British cavalry, and, closely followed by three battalions of fresh infantry, charged the Irish battalions, who, in the impetuosity of their pursuit, had fallen into disorder. The cavalry charge completed their confusion, and the infantry opening fire in flank on the lately victorious column, drove it back with immense slaughter. Thus the battle was restored at this point.

All this time the fight had raged between Eugene's array and the Bavarians and French opposed to them. At first the prince had been successful, and the Danes and Prussians under his orders captured a battery of six guns. His cavalry, however, while advancing in some disorder, were charged by the French, driven back across the Nebel, and the guns were retaken. Twice the prince himself rallied his cavalry, and brought them back to the charge, but each time the Bavarian horse, led by the elector, drove them back, defeated and broken, across the river. The Prussian and Danish infantry stood their ground nobly, although the enemy charged them over and over again; but, cheered by the presence of Prince Eugene, who took his place amongst them, they beat off all attacks.

The Duke of Marlborough, after restoring the battle at Oberglau, rode back to his centre, and prepared for the grand attack by his cavalry. Marshal Tallard, in preparation for the attack he saw impending, brought up six battalions of infantry, and placed them in the centre of the ridge. Marlborough brought up three battalions of Hessians to front them, placed the rest of his infantry to cover the left of the cavalry from the attack of the strong battalions in Blenheim, and then, drawing his sword, placed himself in front of his troops, and ordered the trumpets to sound the advance.

This grand and decisive charge is thus described by Allison in his "Life of Marlborough:"

"Indescribably grand was the spectacle that ensued. In compact order, and in the finest array, the allied cavalry, mustering 8000 sabres, moved up the gentle slope in two lines—at first slowly, as on a field day, but gradually more quickly as they drew near, and the fire of the artillery became more violent. The French horse, 10,000 strong, stood their ground at first firmly. The choicest and bravest of their chivalry were there; the banderolls of almost all the nobles of France floated over the squadrons.

"So hot was the fire of musketry and cannon when the assailants drew near, that their advance was checked. They retired sixty paces, and the battle was kept up for a few minutes only by a fire of artillery. Gradually, however, the fire of the artillery slackened; and Marlborough, taking advantage of the pause, led his cavalry again to the charge. With irresistible vehemence the line dashed forward at full speed, and soon the crest of the ridge was passed. The French horsemen discharged their carbines at a considerable distance with little effect, and immediately wheeled about and fled.

"The battle was gained. The allied horse rapidly inundated the open space between the two villages. The six battalions in the middle were surrounded, cut to pieces, or taken. They made a noble resistance; and the men were found lying on their backs in their ranks as they had stood in the field."

Thus at one blow the whole French line of defence was broken up. Blenheim was entirely cut off; and the rear of their left beyond Oberglau threatened.

General Marsin's cavalry, seeing the defeat of their main body, fell back to avoid being taken in rear; and Prince Eugene, seeing the Bavarian infantry left unsupported, called up all his reserves, and advanced at the head of the Danes and Prussians against them. The Bavarian infantry fought stubbornly, but the battle was lost, their line of retreat threatened by the allied horse, who were now masters of the field, and, setting fire to the villages of Oberglau and Lutzingen, they fell back sullenly.

In the meantime, Marshal Tallard was striving bravely to avert the defeat. He brought up his last reserves, rallied his cavalry, and drew them up in line stretching towards Blenheim in hopes of drawing off his infantry from that village. Marlborough brought up his whole cavalry force, and again charging them, burst through their centre, and the French cavalry, divided into two parts, fled in wild disorder—the one portion towards the Danube, the other towards Hochstadt. Marlborough at the head of fifty squadrons pursued the first body. Hanpesch with thirty followed the second. Marlborough drove the broken mass before him to the Danube, where great numbers were drowned in attempting to cross; the rest were made prisoners. Marshal Tallard himself, with a small body of cavalry who still kept their ranks, threw himself into the village of Sonderheim, and was there captured by the victorious squadrons. Hanpesch pursued the flying army as far as Hochstadt, captured three battalions of infantry on the way, and halted not until the French were a mere herd of fugitives, without order, riding for their lives.

There now remained only the garrison of Blenheim to dispose of, and the infantry were brought up to attack them. So strong were the defences, however, so desperate the resistance offered by the brave body of Frenchmen, who were now alone against an army, that the infantry attack was beaten back. The guns were then brought up, and opened fire, and the French, whose case was now hopeless, surrendered.

The battle of Blenheim was over. In this great battle Marlborough's army lost 5000 men, Eugene's 6000. In all 11,000 men. The French and Bavarians lost in killed and wounded 12,000, together with 1200 officers and 13,000 privates made prisoners, and 47 cannon. Their total loss, including desertions in their retreat through the Black Forest, was estimated by their own historians at 40,000 men—a defeat as complete and disastrous as that of Waterloo.



Chapter 14: The Riot at Dort.

The Duke of Marlborough lost no time in utilizing the advantages gained by the victory of Blenheim. He at once raised the siege of Ingoldstadt, which, when all the country was in his power, must sooner or later surrender, and detached a portion of the force which had been there engaged to besiege Ulm, an important fortress on the Danube. Then with the bulk of his army he marched to the Rhine, crossed at Philipsburg on the 6th of September, and advanced towards Landau.

Marshal Villeroi had constructed an entrenched camp to cover the town; but on the approach of the victor of Blenheim he fell back, leaving Landau to its fate. Marlborough followed him, and made every effort to bring the French to a battle; but Villeroi fell back behind the Lauter, and then behind the Motter, abandoning without a blow one of the strongest countries in Europe.

On the 11th of September Ulm surrendered, with 250 pieces of cannon; and upon the following day, Landau was invested. The Prince of Baden with 20,000 men conducted the siege, and Marlborough and Eugene with 30,000 covered the operations. Marlborough, however, determined on ending the campaign, if possible, by driving the French beyond the Moselle, and leaving Prince Eugene with 18,000 men, marched with 12,000 men on the 14th of October.

After a tremendous march through a wild and desolate country, he arrived with his exhausted troops at Treves on the 29th, one day before the arrival of 10,000 French, who were advancing to occupy it. The garrison of 600 men in the citadel evacuated it at his approach. He immediately collected and set to work 6000 peasants to restore the fortifications. Leaving a garrison, he marched against the strong place of Traesbach. Here he was joined by twelve Dutch battalions from the Meuse; and having invested the place, he left the Prince of Hesse to conduct the siege—which speedily ended in the surrender of the place—and marched back with all haste to rejoin Prince Eugene.

Leaving Eugene to cover the siege of Landau, Marlborough now hurried away to Hanover and Berlin, to stimulate the governments of Hanover and Prussia to renewed exertion; and by his address and conciliatory manner succeeded in making arrangements for 8000 fresh Prussian troops to be sent to the imperial armies in Italy, as the Duke of Savoy had been reduced to the last extremity there by the French.

The Electress of Bavaria, who had been regent of that country since her husband left to join the French, had now no resource but submission, and she accordingly agreed to disband her remaining troops, and to make peace.

The Hungarian insurrection was suppressed by Austria, now able to devote all its attention to that point: and Landau surrendered towards the end of November, when its garrison was reduced from 7000 to 3500, who became prisoners of war.

All these decisive results arose from the victory of Blenheim. Had the British Government during the winter acceded to Marlborough's request, and voted men and money, he would have been able to march to Paris in the next campaign, and could have brought the war to an end; but the mistaken parsimony then, as often since, crippled the British general, allowed the French to recover from their disaster, prolonged the war for years, and cost the country very many times the money and the men that Marlborough had asked for to bring the war to a decisive termination.

But while the English and Dutch governments refused to vote more money or men, and the German governments, freed from their pressing danger, became supine and lukewarm, the French, upon the contrary, set to in an admirable manner to retrieve the disasters they had suffered, and employed the winter in well-conceived efforts to take the field with a new army, to the full as strong as that which they had lost; and the fruits of Blenheim were, with the exception of the acquisition of a few fortresses, entirely thrown away.

At the battle of Blenheim, Rupert Holliday escaped untouched, but Hugh was struck with a fragment of shell, and severely wounded. He was sent down the Rhine by water to the great military hospital which had been established at Bonn; and Rupert, who was greatly grieved at being separated from his faithful follower, had the satisfaction of hearing ere long that he was doing well.

Rupert had assigned him as orderly a strong, active young fellow, named Joe Sedley, who was delighted at his appointment, for the "little cornet" was, since his defeat of the German champion, the pride of the regiment. Joe was a Londoner, one of those fellows who can turn their hand to anything, always full of fun, getting sometimes into scrapes, but a general favourite with his comrades.

The campaign over, Rupert, who was now a lieutenant, asked and obtained leave to go home for the winter; he had long since been reconciled with his mother; and it was two years and a half since he had left home. Hugh and Joe Sedley had also obtained leave, upon Rupert's application on their behalf.

On his way down Rupert resolved to pay a visit for a few days to his kind friends at Dort. They had written begging him to come and see them; and a postscript which Maria had put in her last letter to him, to the effect that she had reason to believe that her old persecutor was in the neighbourhood, and that her father had taken renewed precautions for her safety, added to his desire to visit Dort.

"That fellow's obstinacy is really admirable in its way," Rupert said, on reading this news. "He has made up his mind that there is a fortune to be obtained by carrying off Maria van Duyk, and he sticks to it with the same pertinacity which other men display in the pursuit of commerce or of lawful trade, or that a wild beast shows in his tireless pursuit of his prey."

Had it not been for the postscript, Rupert would have deferred his visit to Dort until after his return from England, but the news caused him serious uneasiness. He knew but too well the unscrupulous nature of this desperate man, whom he had heard of since his last attempt upon his life as being a leader of one of the bands of freebooters who, formed of deserters and other desperate men, frequented the Black Forest, the Vosges mountains, the Ardennes, and other forests and hill districts. That he would dare lead his band down into the plains of Holland, Rupert had no fear; still he could have no difficulty in finding men of ruined fortunes even there to join in any wild attempt.

Leaving the army when it went into winter quarters, Rupert travelled by land to Bonn, and there picked up Hugh, who was now completely restored to health, and then, taking boat, journeyed down the Rhine. Then he took horse again, and rode to Dort.

Mynheer van Duyk and Maria were delighted to see him; and Hugh and Sedley were hospitably received by the servants, with whom Hugh had, on the occasion of his last visit, made himself a prime favourite.

For the first day of their arrival Rupert had all the talking to do, and his adventures to relate from the time he set sail from Dort. He had of course written from time to time, but his letters, although fairly full, did not contain a tithe of the detail which his friends were anxious to learn. The next morning, after breakfast, he asked his host if he was unwell, for he looked worn and anxious.

"I am well in body, but disturbed in mind," he said. "Six months ago I stood well with my fellow citizens, and few were more popular in Dort than myself. Now, save among the better class, men look askance at me. Subtle whispers have gone abroad that I am in correspondence with France; that I am a traitor to Holland; that I correspond with the Spanish at Antwerp. In vain have I tried to force an open accusation, in order that I might disperse it. The merchants, and others of my rank, scoff at these rumours, and have in full council denounced their authors as slanderers; but the lower class still hold to their belief. Men scowl as I walk along; the boys shout 'Traitor!' after me; and I have received threatening letters."

"But this is abominable," Rupert said, hotly. "Is there no way of dealing with these slanderers?"

"No," the merchant said; "I see none, beyond living it down. Some enemy is at work, steadily and powerfully."

"Have you any enemy you suspect?"

"None, save indeed that rascal countryman of yours. He is desperate, and, as you know, relentless. My house has always been guarded by six stout fellows since we returned from the Hague; and any open attempt to carry off my daughter would be useless. It is difficult to see what he proposes to himself by stirring up a party against me; but he might have some scheme which we cannot fathom. Our Dutchmen are slow but obstinate, and once they get an idea in their head it is difficult to discharge."

"You do not fear any public tumult, surely?" Rupert said.

"I do not anticipate it, and yet I regard it as possible," Van Duyk said. "The people in our town have been given to bursts of frenzy, in which some of our best men have been slain."

"Why don't you go down to the Hague again till this madness has passed by?"

"I cannot do that. My enemies would take advantage of it, and might sack my house and warehouses."

"But there is the burgher guard; and all the respectable citizens are with you."

"That is true enough," the merchant said; "but they are always slow to take action, and I might be killed, and my place burnt before they came on to the ground. I will send Maria with you down to the Hague to her aunt's. If this be the work of the man we wot of, it may be that he will then cease his efforts, and the bad feeling he has raised will die away; but in truth, I shall never feel that Maria is safe until I hear that his evil course has come to an end."

"If I come across him, I will bring it to an end, and that quickly," Rupert said, wrathfully. "At any rate, I think that the burgomaster ought to take steps to protect the house."

"The council laugh at the idea of danger," Van Duyk said. "To them the idea that I should be charged with dealing with the enemy is so supremely ridiculous that they make light of it, and are inclined to think that the state of things I describe is purely a matter of my own imagination. If I were attacked they would come as quickly as they could to my aid; but they may be all too late.

"There is one thing, Rupert. This enemy hates you, and desires your death as much as he wishes to carry off my daughter, and through her to become possessed of my money bags. If, then, this work is his doing, assuredly he will bring it to a head while you are here, so as to gratify both his hate and his greed at once."

"It is a pity that you cannot make some public statement, that unless your daughter marries a man of whom you approve you will give her no fortune whatever."

"I might do that," Van Duyk said; "but he knows that if he forced her to marry him, I should still give her my money. In the second place, she has a large fortune of her own, that came to her through her mother. And lastly, I believe that it is not marriage he wishes now, for he must be sure that Maria would die rather than accept him, but to carry her off, and then place some enormous sum as a ransom on condition of her being restored safe and unharmed to me. He knows that I would give all that I possess to save her from his hands."

"The only way out of it that I see," Rupert said, "is for me to find him, and put an end to him."

"You will oblige me, Rupert, if, during the time you remain here, you would wear this fine mail shirt under your waistcoat. You do not wear your cuirass here; and your enemy might get a dagger planted between your shoulders as you walk the streets. It is light, and very strong. It was worn by a Spanish general who fell, in the days of Alva, in an attack upon Dort. My great-grandfather shot him through the head, and kept his mail shirt as a trophy."

"It is a useful thing against such a foe as this," Rupert said, putting it on at once. "I could not wear it in battle, for it would be an unfair advantage; but against an assassin all arms are fair."

During the day Rupert went out with his host, and the scowling looks which were turned upon the latter convinced him that the merchant had not exaggerated the extent to which the feeling of the lower class had been excited against him. So convinced was he of the danger of the position, that, to the immense surprise of Hugh and Joe Sedley, he ordered them to lie down at night in their clothes, with their swords and pistols ready by them. With eight armed men in the house—for four of the porters engaged in the merchant's warehouse slept on truckle beds placed in the hall—Rupert thought that they ought to be able to repel any assault which might be made.

It was on the fourth night after Rupert's coming to Dort, that he was aroused by a touch on his shoulder. He leapt to his feet, and his hand, as he did so, grasped his sword, which lay ready beside him.

"What is it?" he exclaimed.

"There is mischief afloat," Van Duyk said. "There is a sound as of a crowd in front of the house. I have heard the tramp of many footsteps."

Rupert went to the window and looked out. The night was dark, and the oil lamps had all been extinguished; but it seemed to him that a confused mass filled the place in which the house stood.

"Let me get the men under arms," he said, "and then we can open the window, and ask what they want."

In two minutes he returned.

"Now, sir, let us ask them at once. They are probably waiting for a leader or order."

The merchant went to the window, and threw it open.

"Who is there?" he asked. "And what means this gathering at the door of a peaceful citizen?"

As if his voice had been the signal for which they waited, a roar went up from the immense crowd. A thunder of axes at the door and shutters, and a great shout arose, "Death to the traitor! Death to the Frenchmen!"

Shots were fired at the windows, and at the same moment the alarm bell at the top of the house pealed loudly out, one of the serving men having previously received order to sound the signal if needed. In answer to the alarm bell, the watchman on the tower, whose duty it was to call the citizens from their beds in case of fire, struck the great bell, and its deep sounds rang out over the town. Two minutes later the church bells joined in the clamour; and the bell on the town hall with quick, sharp strokes called the burgher guard to arms.

Van Duyk, knowing now that all that could be done had been effected, ran to his daughter's room, bade her dress, and keep her door locked until she heard his voice, come what may. Then he ran downstairs to join the defenders below.

"The shutters are giving everywhere," Rupert cried. "We must hold this broad staircase. How long will it be, think you, before the burgher guard are here?"

"A quarter of an hour, maybe."

"We should beat them back for that time," Rupert said. "Light as many lights as you can, and place them so as to throw the light in their faces, and keep us in the shade."

In two or three minutes a smashing of timber and loud shouts of triumph proclaimed that the mob were effecting an entrance.

"For the present I will stand in front, with one of these good fellows with their axes on each side of me. The other two shall stand behind us, a step or two higher. You, Hugh and Joe, take post with our host in the gallery above with your pistols, and cover us by shooting any man who presses us hard. Fire slowly, pick off your men, and only leave your posts and join me here on the last necessity."

They had just taken the posts assigned to them when the door fell in with a crash, and the mob poured in, just as a rush took place from the side passages by those who had made their way in through the lower windows.

"A grim set of men," Rupert said to himself.

They were indeed a grim set. Many bore torches, which, when once need for quiet and concealment was over, they had lighted.

Dort did a large export trade in hides and in meat to the towns lying below them, and it was clear that it was from the butchers and skinners that the mob was chiefly drawn. Huge figures, with poleaxes and long knives, in leathern clothes spotted and stained with blood, showed wild and fierce in the red light of the torches, as they brandished their weapons, and prepared to assault the little band who held the broad stairs.

Rupert advanced a step below the rest, and shouted:

"What means this? I am an officer of the Duke of Marlborough's army, and I warn you against lifting a hand against my host and good friend Mynheer van Duyk."

"It's a lie!" shouted one of the crowd. "We know you; you are a Frenchman masquerading in English uniform.

"Down with him, my friends. Death to the traitors!"

There was a rush up the stairs, and in an instant the terrible fight began.

On open ground, Rupert, with his activity and his straight sword, would have made short work of one of the brawny giants who now attacked him, for he could have leapt out of reach of the tremendous blow, and have run his opponent through ere he could again lift his ponderous axe. But there was no guarding such swinging blows as these with a light sword; and even the advantage of the height of the stairs was here of little use.

At first he felt that the combat was desperate. Soon, however, he regained confidence in his sword. With it held ever straight in front of him, the men mounting could not strike without laying open their breasts to the blade. There must, he felt, be no guarding on his part; he must be ever on the offensive.

All this was felt rather than thought in the whirl of action. One after another the leaders of the assailants fell, pierced through the throat while their ponderous axes were in the act of descending. By his side the Dutchman's retainers fought sturdily, while the crack of the pistols of Hugh, Joe Sedley, and the master of the house were generally followed by a cry and a fall from the assailants.

As the difficulty of their task became more apparent, the yells of fury of the crowd increased. Many of them were half drunk, and their wild gestures and shouts, the waving of their torches, and the brandishing of knives and axes, made the scene a sort of pandemonium.

Ten minutes had passed since the first attack, and still the stairs were held. One of the defenders lay dead, with his head cloven to his shoulders with a poleaxe, but another had taken his place.

Suddenly, from behind, the figure of a man bounded down the stairs from the gallery, and with a cry of "Die, villain!" struck Rupert with a dagger with all his strength, and then bounded back into the gallery. Rupert fell headlong amid his assailants below.

Hugh and Joe Sedley, with a shout of rage and horror, dashed from their places, sword in hand, and leaping headlong down the stairs, cutting and hewing with their heavy swords, swept all opposition back, and stood at the foot, over the body of Rupert.

The three Dutchmen and Van Duyk followed their example, and formed a group round the foot of the stairs. Then there was a wild storm of falling blows, the clash of sword and axe, furious shouts, loud death cries, a very turmoil of strife; when there was a cry at the door of "The watch!" and then a loud command:

"Cut the knaves down! Slay every man! Dort! Dort!"

There was a rush now to escape. Down the passages fled the late assailants, pursued by the burgher guard, who, jealous of the honour of their town, injured by this foul attack upon a leading citizen, cut down all they came upon; while many who made their escape through the windows by which they had entered, were cut down or captured by the guard outside. The defenders of the stairs made no attempt at pursuit.

The instant the burgher guard entered the hall, Hugh and Joe threw down their bloodstained swords, and knelt beside Rupert.

"Ough!" sighed the latter, in a long breath.

"Thank God! He is not dead."

"Dead!" Rupert gasped, "not a bit of it; only almost trodden to death. One of my stout friends has been standing on me all the time, though I roared for mercy so that you might have heard me a mile off, had it not been for the din."

"But are you not stabbed, Master Rupert?"

"Stabbed! No; who should have stabbed me? One of you somehow hit me on the back, and down I went; but there is no stab."

"He had a dagger. I saw it flash," Hugh said, lifting Rupert to his feet.

"Had he?" Rupert said; "and who was he?

"If it was an enemy, it is your coat of mail has saved me," he continued, turning to Van Duyk. "I have never taken it off since. But how did he get behind me I wonder?

"Run," he continued energetically, "and see if the lady is safe. There must have been mischief behind."

Mynheer van Duyk, closely followed by the others, ran upstairs to his daughter's room. The door was open. He rushed into the room. It was empty. The window was open; and looking out, two ladders were seen, side by side.

It was clear that while the fray had been raging, Maria von Duyk had been carried off.



Chapter 15: The End of a Feud.

After the first cry of rage and grief at the discovery of the abduction of Maria van Duyk, there was a moment's silence. Rupert broke it, laying his hand on the shoulder of Van Duyk, who had dropped despairingly into a chair.

"We will find her," he said, "wherever she be. Let us lose no moments in sorrow. Call up the burgomaster, or whoever leads the burghers, and let us consult."

In another minute or two four of the principal magistrates of Dort had joined the party, and Van Duyk told them what had happened.

"I told her to lock the door, and not to open until she heard my voice. Doubtless she was standing there listening to the strife without, when the men burst in at the window, and seized her before, in her surprise and terror, she had time to unlock the door. Now what is to be done to recover her? They have, no doubt, carried her off by boat, for they could not pass through the landward gate of the town.

"Will you order two fast boats, to be manned by strong parties of rowers, with well-armed men? One had better go up the river, one down; for we know not in which direction they will take their flight.

"What think you, Master Holliday?"

"I think that a boat had better go either way, without a moment's loss of time," Rupert said. "But I doubt whether either will find them. But send the boats without a moment's delay, with orders to overhaul and search every craft they overtake."

The magistrates at once called in an officer of the guard, and gave him the necessary instructions.

"And why do you not think that either up or down the river they will overtake them?" Van Duyk asked Rupert, as the officer left the room.

"Because they will know that a fleet horseman will pass them; and that by morning the people at the towns on the banks will all be on the lookout for them. So, having sent off the boats, I should now send off horsemen up and down the river, with a letter from you, sirs, to the authorities at all the towns, begging them to stop and search every boat."

Again the necessary orders were given.

"It was right to take these steps," Rupert said, "for they may be greater fools than I take them to be; but I think that they have done one of two things. They have gone either up or down the river to some place, probably not far away, where horses are in readiness, or—or, they may be still in the town."

"Still in the town!"

"Yes," Rupert said; "they will know that we should pursue them up and down the river; that we should scour the country round; but they may think that we should not suspect that she is still here. There must be lots of secure hiding places in an old town like this; and they may well think it safer to keep her hidden here until they force her into marriage, or wring a fabulous ransom from you."

"We will search every house," the burgomaster said, "from cellar to roof."

"It would be useless," Rupert said. "There must be secret hiding places where she could be stowed away, bound and gagged perhaps, and which you could never detect. I would lose no moment of time in sending out horsemen to every village on either side of the river above and below us, for a circle of twenty miles. If horsemen have passed through, some villager or other is sure to have been awoke by the clatter of the horses. If we get news, we must follow up the traces wherever they go. If not, it will be strong proof that they are still here. In any case, our pursuit all over the country will lead them to think that we have no suspicion that she is here, and we shall have far more chance of lighting upon a clue than if they thought we suspected it. Get trusty men to work at once. Question the prisoners your men have taken, with some sharp pain that will wring the truth from them; but let all be done quietly; while on the other hand, let the chase through the country be as active and public as possible."

Threats, and the application of a string twisted round the thumb, and tightened until the blood spurted from beneath the nails—rough modes of questioning which had not yet died out—soon elicited from the captives the place where the arch-conspirator had been staying while he laid the train for the explosion; but, as was expected, a search showed that the bird had flown, without leaving a trace behind him.

Then, as there was nothing more to do until morning, and two score of horsemen had been sent off in different directions, and the officers most acquainted with the haunts of the bad characters were set quietly at work to search for some clue that might help to find the hiding place of Maria, the magistrates took their leave with many expressions of regret and commiseration with the merchant, and with confession of a consciousness of deep fault that they had not taken to heart his warnings.

Long ere this the bodies of the score of rioters who had fallen on the stairs, hall, and passages had been removed; and leaving the afflicted merchant for awhile to his thoughts, Rupert retired to his room, telling Hugh and Joe to follow him. He explained to them exactly the steps which had been taken, and his opinion as to the true state of things; and bade them think the matter over in every light, and to come to him at daybreak, and let him know if any plan for the conduct of the search had occurred to them.

The result of the night's thoughts and of the morning's deliberations was conveyed to Mynheer van Duyk by Rupert.

"The first thing to be done is to offer a large reward, sir, for any news which may lead to the discovery of your daughter. This may or may not bring us in some information. The next thing is to have an eye kept on every boat by the quay which may have a cabin or half-deck capable of concealing a person wrapped up and bound. Also, that a watch should be set upon any fishing boat anchored in the river, or moored against the banks, for miles round. It is very possible that she was carried on board, and that there she may be kept, close to us, for days, or even weeks, until the hotness of the search is over, and they can pass up or down the river without being stopped and overhauled."

"We will have every boat at the quay searched at once; and boat parties shall be sent off to examine every craft at anchor or moored in the river."

"I think, sir, that it behoves us to act with care," Rupert said; "for knowing the desperate nature of this villain, I think it probable that he would wreak his hate upon your daughter, and do some terrible crime when he found that he was discovered, for he knows that his life is already forfeit. When we find out where she is confined, to my mind the serious difficulty only commences, for it is absolutely necessary that the arrest be so prompt and sudden, that he shall not have time even to level a pistol at her."

Van Duyk acknowledged the justice of Rupert's reasoning.

"Hugh has suggested that it is likely that he has in his pay the same boatmen whom he employed last year to murder us. As a first step, let one of your clerks go down with an officer to the quay, and inquire what boats left here yesterday or in the night. Hugh will put on a rough fisherman's suit, and with his hat well down over his brows, will stroll along by the water, to see if he recognizes the face of any of the men."

At eight o'clock in the morning there was a meeting of the council of the town, to determine upon the measures to be taken to discover the authors of this disgraceful outbreak, and to take steps for the recovery of the daughter of the leading citizen of the town. Criers had already gone round to offer rewards for information; and a proclamation was now issued by the magistrates, calling upon every citizen to do his best to aid in the search. A committee was appointed, to investigate all information which might be brought in.

All Dort was in a state of excitement; parties of the burgher guard still patrolled the town; numerous arrests were made in the skinners' and butchers' quarters; groups of people assembled and talked over the events of the night; and indignation at the riot and assault upon Mynheer van Duyk, and pity for himself and his daughter, were loudly expressed on all sides. The authorities forbade any one from leaving the town by land or water without a special permit signed by the magistrates.

The investigation as to the sailing of boats upon the previous day produced a long list of craft of various sizes and kinds that had left Dort. Besides those that had actually sailed, one or two had left the quay, and had anchored out in the river, and made fast to buoys there.

Hugh returned with the intelligence that he had recognized in a boatman loitering on the quay one of the crew of the boat in which Rupert and he had had so narrow an escape from drowning. The captain of one of the merchant's own craft, of which there were several at Dort, was sent for, and having received instructions as to his course, accompanied Hugh to the quay, and having had the fisherman pointed out to him, sauntered along, and after speaking to several men, entered into conversation with him. A confidential agent of the merchant was also ordered to keep at a distance, but to watch every movement, however minute and insignificant, of the suspected man.

The captain's report was soon given in. He had asked the man if he wanted a berth in a ship just going to sail for England, one of the crew having fallen sick at the last moment. He had refused, as he belonged to a boat just about to sail for Bergen op Zoom, and he had nodded towards a large decked boat riding in the river. Fearing to excite suspicion, he had asked no further question, but had turned to another man standing near, and asked him if he would make the voyage.

It was considered certain by Rupert and Van Duyk that Maria was either already confined in that boat, or that she would be taken there when it was considered safe to start. A close scrutiny of the boat with a telescope showed that two men were on board her. They appeared to be smoking, and idling about.

In the meantime, at the Town Hall the committee were busy in examining the reports brought in by the horsemen—whose tales agreed, inasmuch as in none of the villages visited by them had any stir or unusual movement been heard through the night—and in hearing the evidence of innumerable people, who were all anxious to give information which appeared to them to bear upon the outrage.

Van Duyk himself, like one distracted, wandered from place to place.

Presently the spy set to watch the fisherman came in with his report. He said that it was clear that the man was anxious and ill at ease; that after an hour's waiting, a man came and spoke a word to him, and passed on; that the fisherman then got into a small boat and rowed out towards his vessel, but that he did not watch him further, thinking it better to follow the man up who had spoken to him. After walking about aimlessly for a short time, as if to see whether he was watched, he had proceeded some distance along the quay, and had then gone into a large house used as a tavern and sailors' boardinghouse, but which did but a small trade, the landlord having a bad name in the place.

A boat, with a strong armed party, was ordered to be in readiness to follow at once if the fishing boat sailed; to keep at a distance, but to follow her wherever she went, and at her next landing place to pounce suddenly upon her and search her. Then the whole attention of the searchers was directed to the tavern in question.

It was agreed that Maria was not likely to be in confinement there, as, it having been the house at which it had been ascertained that Sir Richard Fulke had, previous to the last attempt on Rupert, stayed in hiding, it would be suspected, and might be searched. The strictest watch was now set upon the house, and everyone leaving it was followed. Many came out and in, sailors from the quay or the ships lying there; but in none of their movements was anything suspicious found.

At five in the afternoon a boy of twelve years old, a son of the landlord, came out. He looked suspiciously round, and then walked along the quay. As he passed a house of considerable size, he again looked round, pulled the bell twice, hastily, and then walked on. He made a long detour, and returned to the tavern.

Not a moment was lost in following up the clue. The house in question had been unoccupied for some time. The owner was, however, known to Van Duyk, who at once called upon him. He said that he had let it some weeks before, to a person who had stated that he was a merchant of Amsterdam, and intended to open a branch house at Dort. He had paid him six months' rent in advance, and had received the keys of the house. He believed that some of his party had arrived, as he had himself seen two men go in, but the house was certainly not yet open for business.

Rupert, who had been all day at work following out other clues given by persons who had come forward, returned just as Mynheer van Duyk came back with the news.

"Thank God!" he said, "There is an end to uncertainty. Your daughter is in that house, beyond all doubt. It is only a question of action now. Let us call in the burgomaster and the chief constable, and discuss how the rescue is to be effected. It is probable that he has with him a dozen desperate fellows of his Black Forest gang, and the task of so arranging it that we may interpose between her and the arch-villain is a difficult one indeed. While you send for these officials, I will go and reconnoitre the house; it is quite dark."

The house differed little from its fellows. It was old, with gables, and each floor projected beyond the one below it. A dim light was visible in one of the upper rooms, while a far brighter light shone through the folds of curtains which had been drawn across a window lower down. Rupert drew his own conclusions.

Returning, he found the burgomaster and chief constable already with Mynheer van Duyk. After much discussion it was agreed that thirty picked men should be at Rupert's orders at ten that night, an hour at which all Dort would already be sound asleep.

The chief constable then proceeded with Rupert to the houses situated behind that which was intended to be attacked. It was reconnoitred from that side, and found to be in darkness. The owners of these houses, strictly charged to secrecy, were informed of what was going on, and promised all aid in their power. A dozen ladders of various lengths were now got together.

Then they went to the house adjoining, and made their way out on to the roof. This, like many of the Dort houses, was furnished with a terrace, placed between the gabled roofs, which rose sharply on either side. Here the owner, if disposed, could sit and smoke, and look on the river. A table and benches were placed here, and a few tubs with shrubs and flowers.

A short, light ladder was brought up, and Rupert climbed up the steep roof, drew up his ladder, and descended on the other side. The steep roof of the next house now faced him, and he was soon over this also, and stood on the little terrace of the house where he believed Maria was a prisoner. It in all respects resembled that he had left. The door leading to it appeared strong and firmly fastened. He now retraced his steps.

Then some light ladders were brought up and placed in position on the two roofs, and all was ready for a party to pass over onto the terrace.

At ten o'clock, then, accompanied by Mynheer van Duyk and the two troopers, he went to the spot where the force was assembled, and told them off to the duties he had assigned to them.

Eight were to enter the next house with Hugh and Joe Sedley, were to pass, by means of the ladders, over the roof on to the terrace. They were to carry heavy axes and crowbars, and to beat down the door and rush downstairs the instant the signal was given.

Sixteen were to raise eight ladders at the back of the house, and place them close to the windows. Two were to take post at each, ready to burst in the window and rush in at the signal.

The remaining six were to bring a long ladder to the front of the house, and place it against the upper window, where the light was. Two were to follow Rupert up this ladder, the other four to place themselves at the front door, and cut down all who tried to escape.

Rupert's object in attacking at so many different points was so to confuse the occupants of the house by the suddenness and noise of the assault that they would be unable to rally and carry out any plan they might have formed, before the assailants could muster in sufficient force to overcome them.

Orders were also issued for a party of men to proceed to the quay, and to arrest and carry off anyone they might find hanging about there.

All arranged, the party moved off and the work was begun. Thick rolls of flannel had been fastened round the ends of the ladders, so as to prevent the slightest noise being made when they came in contact with the wall. Rupert saw the ladders planted at the back of the house, and the men ready to climb to their places. He then moved round to the front; here the ladder was also fixed. A light flashed down from the terrace above showed that here too the party were in position; and Rupert began to mount, followed by Van Duyk, who had insisted upon taking that post, so as to be ready to spring to the assistance of his child at the first attack. The ladder reached exactly to the window, and as his eyes reached the level Rupert peered anxiously in.

At a table, on which burned a candle, sat a man with a huge bowl of liquor and a brace of pistols before him. On a pallet bed in a corner lay a figure, which Rupert felt sure was that of Maria. Rupert doubted not in the least that the order to the watcher was to kill her at the first alarm. Twice he raised his pistol, twice withdrew it. If he did not kill the man on the spot, Maria's life would be clearly forfeited. Under such circumstances he dared not fire.

After a moment's thought he gave a sharp tap at the window, and then shrank below the level of the window, and with both his pistols pointed upwards, he waited. As he expected, in a moment the window darkened, and the figure of a man was seen trying to look out into the darkness. As he leaned against the glass, Rupert discharged both his pistols into his body, and then, leaping up, dashed in the window, and leapt over the man's body into the room.

Maria had sprung up with a scream.

"You are safe, Maria," Rupert exclaimed, as he ran to the door. "Here is your father."

The discharge of the pistol had been the signal, and with it came a sound of heavy blows, the crashing of timber, and the shivering of glass. Then rose shouts and furious exclamations, and then a great tramping sounded through the late silent house. Doors and windows had all given way at the onset; and as Sir Richard Fulke with eight comrades rushed upstairs, Hugh and his party ran down.

Torches had been provided, and lanterns, and as three of Hugh's men carried them the broad landing was lighted up. Sir Richard Fulke first turned to the door of Maria's room, but there Rupert and two followers stood with drawn swords.

"Cut them down! Cut them down!" he shouted; but the rush of Hugh, Joe Sedley, and the rest swept him back, and he fought now to defend his life.

Up the stairs from behind ran the officers who had gained entry by the windows; and the outlaws saw themselves surrounded and hedged in. They fought desperately but vainly, and one by one fell under the blows of their assailants.

Rupert stood immovable on guard. He knew the desperate nature of his enemy, and feared that if he himself were drawn for a moment from his post into the conflict, he would rush past and endeavour to avenge himself upon them all by killing Maria.

At last, when most of his followers had fallen, Sir Richard Fulke made a sudden dash through his assailants, and fled up the stairs towards the door on the roof. Rupert, who had never for a moment taken his eye off him, followed at full speed, shouting to Hugh to bring torches and follow.

Short as was the start that was gained, it nearly sufficed for the desperate man's escape; as Rupert gained the terrace, he was already nearly at the top of the ladder against the roof. Rupert seized the ladder, and jerked it sideways. Sir Richard made a grasp at the crest of the roof, and then rolled down on to the terrace.

Rupert rushed forward, but the torches had not yet come, and his enemy was on his feet and upon him, with the advantage which the light coming up the stairs afforded him, and striking down his guard, rushed in and grappled with him. Rupert dropped his sword, which was useless now, and struggled for his life. He felt what his enemy's object was, to throw both over the end of the terrace. He was strong and athletic, but he was far from being a match for his older opponent, to whom rage, despair, and hatred lent a prodigious strength.

"Hugh," he shouted, "Quick! Quick!"

Joe Sedley was the first to leap to the terrace with a torch, and stood for a moment aghast as he saw the deadly struggle going on, close to the slight wooden railing which ran along the edge of the terrace; then he sprang forward, and just as the struggling foes crashed through the woodwork, and were in the very act of falling over the low stone parapet, he dashed the torch in Sir Richard's face, while at the same moment he grasped Rupert's shoulder with a grip of iron, and dragged him back; as his foe loosed his grasp when the torch struck him in the face, and dropped in the darkness.

"A close squeak that, sir. The fellow died hard," Joe Sedley said, cheerily.

"It was indeed, Joe. I owe my life to you."

"Oh, it was all in the way of business, sir. You'll likely enough do as much for me in our next charge."

Hugh was up a moment after Joe Sedley, for the latter had been nearer to a man with a torch, but he just saw the narrow escape his master had, and was so shaken that his hand trembled as he wrung that of his comrade.

"I must stick to my sword, another time," Rupert said. "I am David without his sling without it, and any Goliath who comes along can make short work of me. Now let us go below and see after Miss van Duyk, and assure ourselves that our enemy is dead at last. As he said in the boat, I shall never feel quite safe till I know for certain that he is dead."



Chapter 16: Ramilies.

Neither Rupert Holliday nor Maria van Duyk would be troubled more with Sir Richard Fulke. He was absolutely and unquestionably dead. He had fallen on his head, and death had been instantaneous. In the man whom Rupert shot through the window, Hugh and he recognized the fellow who had been his accomplice in the attempt to carry off Maria in London.

Maria was wholly uninjured, although she was days before she was able to speak with comfort, so roughly had the gag been thrust into her mouth. She had not seen her chief abductor after she had been carried off, as Sir Richard must have felt that it was in vain either to threaten or to sue until he had got her in safety far from Dort.

Leaving the rest of the gang to be dealt with by the authorities, Rupert with his followers left Dort two days later, happy in having finally freed his friends from the danger which had so long menaced them. Mynheer van Duyk said but little; but Rupert knew how deep were his feelings of gratitude; and he again sighed deeply over the fact that Rupert was still but little over eighteen. Maria herself was equally grateful.

Van Duyk would have freighted a shipful of presents to Rupert's friends in England, but the latter would not hear of it. He insisted, however, on sending a pipe of magnificent old Burgundy for the colonel's drinking; while Maria sent a stomacher of antique workmanship, with valuable gems, to Madame Holliday.

No adventure marked their homeward journey. Their ship took them rapidly with a fair wind to London Bridge; and Rupert and Hugh started next day by the coach for Derby, the former having made Joe Sedley a handsome present, to enable him to enjoy his holiday, and an invitation to come down to Windthorpe Chace when he was tired of London.

A letter had been written from Holland a few days before starting, to announce their coming, but it was, of course, impossible in the days of sailing ships to fix a day for arrival.

Hiring a chaise, they drove to Windthorpe Chace, where the delight both of Mistress Holliday and of the colonel was unbounded. Hugh, too, was greeted very warmly by both, for Rupert had done full justice to the services he had rendered him. It was difficult to recognize in the dashing looking young officer and the stalwart trooper the lads who but two years and a half before had ridden away posthaste from the Chace. Hugh was driven off to the farm; and Rupert remained alone with his mother and the colonel, who overwhelmed him with questions.

The colonel had changed but little, and bid fair to live to a great age. His eye was bright, and his bearing still erect. He scarcely looked sixty-five, although he was more than ten years older.

Mistress Dorothy was, Rupert thought, softer and kinder than of old. Her pride, and to some extent her heart, had met with a rude shock, but her eyes were now fully open to the worthlessness of her former suitor, who had lately been obliged to fly the country, having been detected at cheating at cards.

Colonel Holliday rejoiced when he heard of the pipe of prime Burgundy, which started from London on the day Rupert left; while Mistress Dorothy was enchanted with the stomacher, which her son produced from his trunk.

"Have you ever heard from Monsieur Dessin, grandfather? You told me that he said he would write and tell you his real name."

"I doubt not that he did so, Rupert; but the carriage of letters between this and France is precarious. Only smugglers or such like bring them over, and these, except when specially paid, care but little for the trouble. That he wrote I am certain, but his letter has not reached me, which I regret much."

The six months at home passed rapidly. Rupert fell into his old ways; rode and hawked, and occasionally paid state visits to the gentry of the neighbourhood, by whom, as one of Marlborough's soldiers, he was made much of.

"I think this soldiering life makes one restless, Master Rupert," Hugh said one day when the time was approaching for their start. "I feel a longing to be with the troop again, to be at work and doing."

"I feel the same, Hugh; but you would not find it so, I think, if you had come home for good. Then you would have your regular pursuits on the farm, while now you have simply got tired of having no work to do. When the war is over, and we have done soldiering, you will settle down on one of the farms of the Chace. Madame says you shall have the first that falls vacant when you come home. Then you will take a wife, and be well content that you have seen the world, and have something to look back upon beyond a six miles circuit of Derby."

The next campaign may be passed over briefly. The parsimony of England and Holland, and the indifference of Germany, spoiled all the plans of Marlborough, and lost the allies all the benefits of the victory of Blenheim. The French, in spite of their heavy losses, took the field in far greater force than the allies; and instead of the brilliant offensive campaign he had planned, Marlborough had to stand on the defensive.

The gallantry of his English troops, and the effect which Blenheim had produced upon the morale of the French, enabled him to hold the ground won, and to obtain several minor successes; one notably at the Dyle, where Villeroi's troops were driven out of lines considered impregnable, but where the pusillanimity and ill will of the Dutch generals prevented any substantial results being obtained; but no important action took place, and the end of 1705 found things in nearly the same state that 1704 had left them.

The non success of the campaign undid some of the harm which the success of that of 1704 had effected. In Flanders the genius of the duke had enabled the allies to maintain their ground; but on the Rhine they had done badly, and in Italy the French had carried all before them. Therefore while after Blenheim an apathy had fallen on the victors, so now the extent of the danger moved them to fresh exertions.

Marlborough, after seeing his army into winter quarters, visited the capitals of Vienna, Berlin, and the Hague, and again by the charm of his manner succeeded in pacifying jealousies, in healing quarrels, and in obtaining the promises of vigorous action and larger armaments in the spring.

The bad conduct of the Dutch generals had created such a general cry of indignation through Europe, that the States General were compelled, by the pressure of public opinion, to dismiss several of the men who had most distinguished themselves by thwarting the plans of Marlborough, and interposing on every occasion between him and victory. Consequently the campaign of 1706 seemed likely to open with far brighter prospects of success than its predecessors had done.

Suddenly, however, all the arrangements broke down. The Imperialists had just suffered another reverse in Italy; and matters looked so desperate there, that Marlborough proposed to pass the Alps with an army of 40,000 men to their assistance, and there, as he would have the warm cooperation of Prince Eugene instead of the cowardice of the Dutch generals, and the incapacity and obstinacy of the Prince of Baden, he anticipated the complete discomfiture of the French.

In these hopes, however, he was thwarted. The Prince of Baden would do nothing beyond defending his own dominion. The cabinets of Berlin and Copenhagen fell to quarrelling, and both refused to supply their promised contingents. The Hanoverians and Hessians had also grievances, and refused to join in any general plan, or to send their troops to form part of the allied army. Thus all ideas of a campaign in the south were destroyed; but Marlborough persuaded the Dutch to send 10,000 of the troops in their pay across the Alps to assist Prince Eugene, under the promise that he with the English and Dutch troops would defend Flanders.

So the campaign commenced; and on the 19th of May Marlborough joined his army, which lay encamped on the Dyle, on the French frontier. On the 22nd a Danish contingent, which had at the last moment been dispatched in answer to an urgent appeal of the duke, arrived; and his army now consisted of 73 battalions and 123 squadrons, in all 60,000 men, with 120 guns. Marshal Villeroi's force, which lay on the other side of the Dyle, consisted of 74 battalions and 128 squadrons—62,000 men, with 130 guns. They had also, as at Blenheim, the advantage that the troops were all of one nationality, and accustomed to act together, while Marlborough's army consisted of troops of three nations, at least half of them new to war, and unused to act with each other.

Marlborough opened the campaign by moving towards Tirlemont, with a view of laying siege to Namur, where many of the citizens were anxious to throw off the French yoke. Villeroi, anxious to cover Namur, moved his troops out from their quarters on the Dyle to stop the advance of the allies, and bring on a battle in the open field.

The ground taken up by the French marshal was exceedingly strong. Marlborough was aware of the great importance of the position, and had made every effort to be the first to seize it; but the French had less distance to march, and when the allied troops arrived within sight of the ground, the French were already in camp upon Mont Saint Andre.

Mont Saint Andre is an extensive and elevated plateau, being, indeed, the highest ground in Brabant. From it four rivers take their rise—the Great Gheet, the Little Gheet, the Dyle, and the Mehaigne. The French camp was placed immediately above the sources of the two Gheets.

The plan of the battle should be examined carefully, and the events of the great battle will then be understood without difficulty.

The descents from the plateau to the Great Gheet are steep and abrupt. The other rivers rise in wet marshes, in some places impassable. The French left was on the crest of the ridge, above the marshes of the Little Gheet, and extended to the village of Autre Eglise; while the extreme right stood on the high ground overlooking the sources of the Mehaigne. The village of Tavieres, in front of the right, was strongly held; while in the villages of Offuz and Ramilies, opposite their centre, were numerous infantry, no less than twenty battalions occupying Ramilies.

The great bulk of the French cavalry were arranged in two lines on their right, the extreme right of their cavalry being in front of the tomb, or barrow, of the ancient German hero Ottomond; the highest part of the ridge, and commanding the whole field of battle.

Marlborough, having with the Dutch General Overkirk, a loyal and gallant old man, reconnoitred the ground, immediately formed his plan of attack.

The French position was somewhat in the form of a bow, the ends being advanced. They would therefore have more difficulty in sending troops from one end to the other of their line than would the allies, who could move in a direct line along, as it were, the string of the bow; and the ground was sufficiently undulating to enable the movements of troops to be concealed from the enemy on the plateau.

The commanding position of Ottomond's tomb appeared the key of the whole battleground; and Marlborough determined to make his main attack on this point, first deceiving the enemy by a feigned attack on their left. Accordingly, he formed, in a conspicuous position, a heavy column of attack, opposite the French left, and menacing the village of Autre Eglise.

Villeroi, believing that the main attack would be made there, moved a considerable body of his infantry from his centre behind Offuz, to reinforce Autre Eglise.

As the column of attack advanced, a large portion was withdrawn by a dip behind the rising ground on which the others advanced, and moved rapidly towards the left centre; the Danish horse, twenty squadrons strong, being directed to the same spot. The smoke of the advance towards Autre Eglise, and the nature of the ground, concealed all these movements from the French, who directed a very heavy artillery fire on the column advancing against Autre Eglise.

Suddenly the real attack began. Five Dutch battalions advanced against Tavieres; twelve battalions under General Schultz, supported by a strong reserve, moved to attack Ramilies.

The vehemence of their attack showed Villeroi that he had been deceived; but he had now no infantry available to move to reinforce the troops in the threatened villages. He therefore ordered fourteen squadrons of dragoons to dismount, and with two Swiss battalions to advance to the support of Tavieres. They arrived, however, too late, for before they could reach the spot, the Dutch battalions had, with great gallantry, carried the village; and the Duke of Marlborough, launching the Danish horse on the supports as they came up, cut them up terribly, and threw back the remnant in confusion upon the French cavalry, advancing to charge.

Overkirk now charged the French cavalry with the first of the allied horse, broke and drove them back; but at this moment, when the allied cavalry were in disorder after their success, the second line of French cavalry, among whom were the Royal life guards, burst upon them, drove them back in great confusion, and restored the battle in that quarter.

The danger was great, for the victorious cavalry might have swept round, and fallen upon the rear of the infantry engaged in the attack upon Ramilies. Marlborough saw the danger, and putting himself at the head of seventeen squadrons of dragoons, and sending an aide-de-camp to order up twenty squadrons still in reserve, charged the French life guards. The French batteries on the heights behind Ramilies poured in so dreadful a fire that the cavalry hesitated, and some French troopers, recognizing the duke, made a dash at him as he rode ahead of the troops.

In an instant he was surrounded; but before any of his troops could ride to his rescue, he cut his way through the French troopers, sword in hand. As his horse tried to leap a wall it fell, and the enemy were again upon him. At this moment Rupert Holliday, whose troop was in the front line, arrived on the spot, followed by Hugh and half a dozen other troopers, and some of the Duke's personal staff.

A desperate fight raged round the general, until the cavalry charged heavily down to the rescue of their beloved leader. But they were still over matched and pressed backwards by the French guards. At this critical time, however, the twenty squadrons of the reserve arrived on the ground, and charged the French cavalry in front, while the Danish cavalry, who had been detained by morasses, fell at the same moment on their flank, and the French cavalry fell back in confusion. Forming the allied cavalry in two lines, Marlborough led them forward in person, and sweeping aside all resistance, they halted not until they reached the summit of Ottomond's tomb, where they were visible to the whole army, while a tremendous shout told friend and foe alike that the key of the whole position had been gained, and victory in that part of the field secured.

All this time the twenty French battalions in Ramilies under the Marquis Maffie had fought obstinately, although far removed from succour. Gradually, however, they were driven out of the village. The British had fresh battalions of infantry available, and these were sent against them, and the victorious horse charging them in flank, they were almost all made prisoners or destroyed.

The fight had lasted but three hours, and the victory was complete on the right and left. The confusion was, however, great, and Marlborough halted his troops and reformed them, before advancing to the final attack; while Marshal Villeroi strove on his part also to reform his troops, and to take up a new front. The roads, were, however, choked with baggage waggons and artillery, and before the troops could take up their fresh posts, the allies were ready. The charge was sounded, and horse and foot advanced to the attack on the centre, while the troops who had commenced the battle by their demonstration against Autre Eglise joined in the general attack.

Confused and disheartened, the French did not await the onslaught, but broke and fled. The Spanish and Bavarian horse guards made a gallant attempt to stem the tide of defeat, but were cut to pieces. The battle was now over. It was a rout and a pursuit, and the British horse, under Lord Orkney, pursued the fugitives until they reached Louvain, at two o'clock in the morning.

In the battle of Ramilies the French lost in killed and wounded 7000 men, and 6000 were taken prisoners. They lost 52 guns, their whole baggage and pontoon train, and 80 standards. Among the prisoners were the Princes de Soubise and Rohan, while among the killed were many nobles of the best blood of France.

The Allies lost 1066 killed, and 2567 wounded, in all 3633 men.

But great as was the victory itself, the consequences were even more important. Brussels, Louvain, Mechlin, Alost, Luise, and all the chief towns of Brabant, speedily opened their gates to the conqueror. Ghent and Bruges, Darn and Oudenarde, followed the example. Of all the cities of Flanders, Antwerp, Ostend, Nieuport, and Dunkirk, with some smaller fortresses, alone held out for the French.

The Duke of Marlborough issued the most stringent orders for the protection and fair treatment of the inhabitants, and so won such general goodwill among the populations, that when he advanced on Antwerp the local troops and citizens insisted on a surrender; and the French troops capitulated, on condition of being allowed to march out with the honours of war, and to be escorted safely to the French frontier. Ostend was then besieged, and captured after a brave resistance; and then, after a desperate resistance, the important and very strong fortress of Menin was carried by assault, 1400 of the storming party, principally British, being slain at the breach. Dindermande and Ath were next taken, and the allied army then went into winter quarters, after a campaign as successful, and far more important in its results, than that of Blenheim.



Chapter 17: A Prisoner of War.

In the brilliant results which arose from the victory at Ramilies, Rupert Holliday had no share. The 5th dragoons formed part of the cavalry force which, when the battle was over, pursued the broken French cavalry to the gates of Hochstad.

In the pursuit, along a road encumbered with deserted waggons, tumbrels, and guns, the pursuers after nightfall became almost as much broken up as the pursued.

Rupert's horse towards the end of the pursuit went dead lame, and he dismounted in order to see if he could do anything to its hoof. He found a sharp stone tightly jammed in the shoe, and was struggling to get this out when the troop again moved forward. Not doubting that he would overtake them in a minute or two, and fearing that unless his horse was relieved of the stone it would become so lame that it would not be able to carry him back, Rupert hammered away at it with a large boulder from the road. It was a longer job than he had anticipated, and five minutes elapsed before he succeeded in getting the stone out, and then, mounting his horse, he rode briskly forward. Presently he came to a point where the road forked. He drew rein and listened, and thought he heard the tramping of horse on the road that led to the left. As he rode on the noise became louder, and in another five minutes he came up to the troop.

It was quite dark, and riding past the men, he made his way to the head of the column.

"I have had an awful bother in getting rid of that stone," he said, as he rode up to the leader. "I began to think that I should lose you altogether. It is quite a chance I took this road."

"An unfortunate chance, sir, for you. A fortunate one for us," the officer he addressed said in English, but with a strong accent, "since you are our prisoner," and as he spoke he laid his hand on Rupert's bridle.

Rupert gave an exclamation of horror at finding the mistake that he had made, but he saw at once that resistance would be useless.

"Je me rends, monsieur. But what horrible luck."

The three French officers at the head of the troop burst into a laugh.

"Monsieur," the one who had first spoken said, now in his native tongue, "we are indebted to you, for you have made us laugh, and heaven knows we have had little enough to laugh at today. But how came you here? Your cavalry have taken the upper road. We were drawn up to make a last charge, when we heard them turn off that way; and were, I can tell you, glad enough to get off without more fighting. We have had enough of it for one day."

As the speaker proceeded, Rupert became more and more convinced that he knew the voice; and the fact that the speaker was acquainted with English, the more convinced him that he was right.

"I stopped to get rid of a stone in my horse's hoof," he said. "If I had only had a fight for it I should not have minded, but not even to have the pleasure of exchanging a pass or two with one of you gentlemen is hard indeed."

"It is just as well that you did not," one of the officers said, "for Monsieur le Marquis de Pignerolles is probably the best swordsman in our army."

"The Marquis de Pignerolles," Rupert said, courteously; "it would have been a pleasure to have crossed swords with him, but scarcely fair, for he knows already that he is not a match for me."

"What!" exclaimed the marquis himself and the two officers, in astonishment.

"You are pleased to joke, sir," the marquis said haughtily.

"Not at all," Rupert said, gravely. "You have met two persons who were your match. You remember Monsieur Dalboy?"

"Dalboy!" the marquis said. "Surely, surely, le Maitre Dalboy, yet—?"

"No, I am assuredly not Monsieur Dalboy," Rupert said. "And the other?"

The marquis reined in his horse suddenly.

"What!" he said, "you are—?"

"Rupert Holliday, my dear Monsieur Dessin."

"My dear, dear lad," the marquis exclaimed. "What pleasure! What delight!" and drawing his horse by the side of Rupert he embraced him with affection.

"My friends," he said to the other officers, who were naturally astonished at this sudden recognition between their prisoner and their colonel, "gentlemen, this English officer is my very dear friend. What kindness have I not received from his grandfather during my time of exile! While to himself I am deeply indebted.

"What a fortunate chance, that if you were to have the bad luck to be made prisoner, you should fall into my hands of all men. I wish that I could let you go, but you know—"

"Of course, of course," Rupert said. "Really I am hardly sorry, since it has brought us together again."

"Did you recognize my name?" the marquis said.

"No indeed," Rupert answered. "The letter which, we doubted not, that you wrote to my grandfather, never came to hand, and we never knew what Monsieur Dessin's real name was, so that Colonel Holliday did not know to whom to write in France."

"I wrote twice," the marquis said, "but I guessed that the letters had never arrived. And the good gentleman your grandfather, he is still alive and well?"

"As well as ever," Rupert said, "and will be delighted to hear of you.

"Mademoiselle is well, I trust?"

"Quite well, and quite a belle at the court, I can assure you," the marquis said. "But there are the gates of Louvain. You will, of course, give me your parole not to try to escape, and then you can come straight to my quarters with me, and I need not report you for a day or so. We shall be in fearful confusion tonight, for half our army is crowding in here, and every one must shift for himself.

"Peste! What a beating you have given us! That Marlborough of yours is terrible.

"I know some people here," he said, turning to the officers. "They will take us four in, and the men must picket their horses in the courtyard and street, and lie down in their cloaks. Tomorrow we will see what is to be done, and how many have escaped from the terrible debacle."

The streets of Louvain were crowded with fugitives, some of them had thrown themselves down by the sidewalks, utterly exhausted; others mingled with the anxious townsmen, and related the incidents of the disastrous day; while the horses stood, with drooping heads, huddled together along the middle of the street. It was only by making long detours that the Marquis de Pignerolles reached the house of which he was in search. Late as was the hour the inmates were up, for the excitement at Louvain was so great that no one had thought of going to bed; and Monsieur Cardol, his wife and family, did all in their power for their guests.

Supper was quickly laid for the four gentlemen; a barrel of wine was broached for the troops, and what provisions were in the house were handed over to them.

"Now let us look at you," the Marquis de Pignerolles said, as they entered the brightly lighted room. "Ah, you are a man now; but your face has little changed—scarcely at all."

"I am scarcely a man yet," Rupert said, laughing. "I am just twenty now; it is rather more than four years since we parted, without even saying goodbye."

"Yes, indeed, Rupert. I tried to do you a good turn in the matter of the Brownlows. I hope it succeeded."

"It did indeed," Rupert said. "We are indeed indebted to you for your intervention then. You saved my lady mother from a wretched marriage, and you saved for me the lands of Windthorpe Chace."

"Ah, I am glad it came off well. But I am your debtor still, mind that; and always shall be. And now to supper. First, though, I must introduce you formally to my comrades, and to our host and hostess, and their pretty daughters."

Very much surprised were the latter when they heard that the handsome young officer was an Englishman and a prisoner.

"He does not look very terrible, does he, this curly-haired young fellow, mademoiselles; but he is one of those terrible horse which have broken the cavalry of the Maison du Roi today, and scattered the chivalry of France. As to himself, he is a Rustium, a Bobadil, if he has, as I doubt not, kept up his practice—" and he looked at Rupert, who nodded smilingly; for he had indeed, during the four years he had been in Flanders, not only practised assiduously in the regimental fencing salles, but had attended all the schools kept by the best Spanish, Italian, and German teachers, keeping himself in practice, and acquiring a fresh pass here, an ingenious defence there, and ever improving—"The first swordsman in France would run a chance against this good-tempered-looking lad with his blue eyes."

The French girls opened their eyes in astonishment, but they were not quite sure whether the marquis was not making fun of them.

"Parbleu!" the two officers exclaimed. "You are not in earnest surely, marquis?"

"I am, indeed, gentlemen; and I can claim some share of the merit, for I taught him myself; and before he was sixteen he was a better swordsman than I was; and as he loved the art, he will have gone on improving, and must be miraculous.

"By the way," he said, suddenly, "there was a story went through Flanders near four years back of the best swordsman in the German army being killed by a mere boy in an English regiment, and I said then, I think that this must be my pupil. Was it so?"

"It was," Rupert said. "It was a painful affair; but I was forced into it."

"Make no excuse, I beg," the marquis said, laughing.

"Now, young ladies, let us to supper; but beware of this prisoner of war, for if he is only half as formidable with his eyes as with his wrist, it is all up with your poor hearts."

Then, with much merriment, the four officers sat down to table, their host and hostess joining for company, and the young ladies acting as attendants.

No one would have guessed that three of the party had formed part of an army which that day had been utterly routed, or that the other was their prisoner; but the temperament of the French enables them to recover speedily from misfortune; and although they had been dull and gloomy enough until Rupert so suddenly fell into their hands, the happy accident of his being known to their colonel, and the pleasure and excitement caused by the meeting, sufficed to put them in high spirits again, especially as their own corps had suffered but slightly in the action, having been in reserve on the left, and never engaged except in a few charges to cover the retreat.

When the battle was alluded to, the brows of the French officers clouded, and they denounced in angry terms the fatal blunder of the marshal of weakening his centre to strengthen the left against a feigned attack. But the subject soon changed again, for, as the marquis said, "It would be quite time to talk it over tomorrow, when they would know who had fallen, and what were the losses;" for from their position on the left, they had little idea of the terrible havoc which had been made among the best blood in France.

Long after all the others had retired, the marquis and Rupert sat together talking over old times. Rupert learned that even before he had left the Chace the marquis had received news that the order of banishment, which the king had passed against him because he had ventured to speak in public in terms of indignation at the wholesale persecution of the Protestants, had been rescinded; and that the estates, which had also been confiscated, were restored. The Protestant persecutions had become things of the past, the greater portion of the French Protestants having fled the country; and the powerful friends of De Pignerolles had never ceased to interest themselves in his favour. The king, too, was in need of experienced soldiers for the war which was about to break out; and lastly, and by the tone in which his friend spoke Rupert saw that the subject was rather a sore one, his Majesty wished to have Adele near the court.

"Mademoiselle Dessin!" Rupert said, in astonishment.

"Well, not exactly Mademoiselle Dessin," the marquis said, smiling, "but la Marquise Adele de Pignerolles, who is by her mother's side—she was a Montmorency—one of the richest heiresses in France, and as inheriting those lands, a royal ward, although I, her father, am alive."

"But even so," Rupert said, "what can his Majesty wish to have her at court for?"

"Because, as a very rich heiress, and as a very pretty one, her hand is a valuable prize, and his Majesty may well intend it as a reward to some courtier of high merit."

"Oh, Monsieur Dessin!" Rupert said, earnestly; "surely you do not mean that!"

"I am sorry to say that I do, Master Rupert. The Grand Monarque is not in the habit of considering such trifles as hearts or inclinations in the bestowal of his royal wards; and although it is a sort of treason to say so, I would rather be back in England, or have Adele to myself, and be able to give her to some worthy man whom she might love, than to see her hand held out as a prize of the courtiers of Versailles. I have lived long enough in England to have got some of your English notions, that a woman ought at least to have the right of refusal."

Rupert said nothing, but he felt sorry and full of pity at the thought of the young girl he remembered so well being bestowed as a sort of royal gift upon some courtier, quite irrespective of the dictates of her own heart. After sitting some time in silence, the marquis changed the subject suddenly.

"I am afraid you will not be exchanged before next winter, Rupert. There are, no doubt, plenty of prisoners in Marlborough's hands, but the campaign is sure to be a stirring and rapid one after this defeat. He will strike heavy blows, and we shall be doing our best to avoid them. It will not be until the fighting is over that the negotiations for the exchange of prisoners will begin."

The next morning the Marquis de Pignerolles went off early to the headquarters of the commandant; and Rupert remained chatting with the family of his host. Two hours later he returned.

"Things are worse than I even feared," he said; "the royal guards are almost destroyed, and the destruction wrought in all our noble families is terrible. It is impossible to estimate our total loss at present, but it is put down at 20,000, including prisoners. In fact, as an army it has almost ceased to exist; and your Marlborough will be able to besiege the fortresses of Flanders as he likes. There has been a council of all the general officers here this morning. I am to carry some dispatches to Versailles—not altogether a pleasant business, but some one must do it, and of course he will have heard the main incidents direct from Villeroi. I leave at noon, Rupert, and you will accompany me, unless indeed you would prefer remaining here on the chance of getting an earlier exchange."

Rupert naturally declared at once for the journey to Paris. Officers on parole were in those days treated with great courtesy, especially if they happened to have a powerful friend. He therefore looked forward to a pleasant stay in Paris, and to a renewal of his acquaintance with Adele, and to a sight of the glories of Versailles, which, under Louis XIV, was the gayest, the most intellectual, and the most distinguished court of Europe.

Louis XIV could not be termed a good man, but he was unquestionably a great king. He did much for France, whose greatness and power he strove to increase; and yet it was in no slight degree owing to his policy that, seventy years later, a tempest was to burst out in France, which was to sweep away the nobility and the crown itself; which was to deluge the soil of France with its best blood, to carry war through Europe, and to end at last by the prostration of France beneath the feet of the nations to whom she had been a scourge.

The tremendous efforts made by Louis XIV to maintain the Spanish succession, which he had secured for France; the draining of the land of men; and the impoverishing of the nobles, who hesitated at no sacrifices and efforts to enable the country to make head against its foes, exhausted the land; while the immense extravagance of the splendid court in the midst of an impoverished land, ruined not only by war, but by the destruction of its trade, by the exile of the best and most industrious of its people on account of their religion, caused a deep and widespread discontent throughout the towns and country of France.

Three hours later, Rupert set out with the Marquis of Pignerolles and two troopers. After two days ride through Belgium they reached Valenciennes, where the uniform of Rupert, in the scarlet and bright cuirass of the British dragoons, excited much attention, for British prisoners were rare in France.

On the evening of the fifth day they reached Paris, where they rode to the mansion of the marquis. Rupert was aware that he would not see Adele, who was, her father had told him, at Versailles, under the care of Madame de Soissons, one of the ladies of the court. Rupert was told to consider himself at home; and then the marquis rode on to Versailles.

"I saw his Majesty last night," he told Rupert when he returned next morning, "and he was very gracious. I hear that even Brousac, who brought the news of our defeat, was kindly received. I am told that he feels the cutting up of his guards very much. A grand entertainment, which was to have taken place this week, has been postponed, and there will be no regular fetes this autumn. I told his Majesty that I had brought you with me on parole, and the manner of your capture. He charged me to make the time pass pleasantly for you, and to bring you down to Versailles, and to present you at the evening reception.

"We must get tailors to work at once, Rupert, for although you must of course appear in uniform, that somewhat war-stained coat of yours is scarcely fit for the most punctilious court in Europe. However, as they will have this coat for a model, the tailors will soon fashion you a suit which would pass muster as your uniform before Marlborough himself.

"I saw Adele, and told her I had brought an English officer, who had galloped in the darkness into our ranks, as a prisoner. I did not mention your name. It will be amusing to see if she recognizes you. She was quite indignant at my taking you prisoner, and said that she thought soldiers ought not to take advantage of an accident of that kind. In fact, although Adele, as I tell her, is very French at heart, the five years she passed in Derby have left a deep impression upon her. She was very happy at school. Every one, as she says, was kind to her; and the result is, that although she rejoices over our victories in Italy and Germany, she talks very little about the Flanders campaign; about which, by the way, were she even as French as possible, there would not be anything very pleasant to say."

Rupert was at once furnished from the wardrobe of the marquis with clothes of all kinds, and as they were about the same height—although Rupert was somewhat broader and heavier—the things fitted well, and Rupert was able to go about Paris, without being an object of observation and curiosity by the people.

Rupert was somewhat disappointed in Paris. Its streets were narrower than those of London, and although the public buildings were fine, the Louvre especially being infinitely grander than the Palace of Saint James, there was not anything like the bustle and rush of business which had struck Rupert so much on his arrival in London.

Upon arriving at Versailles, however, Rupert was struck with wonder. Nothing that he had seen could compare with the stately glories of Versailles, which was then the real capital of France. A wing of the magnificent palace was set apart for the reception of the nobles and military men whose business brought them for short periods to the court, and here apartments had been assigned to the marquis. The clothes had already been sent down by mounted lackeys, and Rupert was soon in full uniform again, the cuirass alone being laid aside. The laced scarlet coat, and the other items of attire, were strictly in accordance with the somewhat lax regulations as to the dress of an officer of dragoons; but the lace cravat falling in front, and the dress lace ruffles of the wrists, were certainly more ample than the Duke of Marlborough might have considered fit for strict regimental attire. But indeed there was little rule as to dress in those early days of a regular British army.

Rupert's knee breeches were of white satin, and his waistcoat of thick brocaded silk of a delicate drab ground. Standing as he did some six feet high, with broad shoulders, and a merry, good-tempered face, with brown curls falling on his lace collar, the young lieutenant was as fine a looking specimen of a well-grown Englishman as could be desired.

"Ma foi!" the marquis said, when he came in in full dress to see if Rupert was ready, "we shall have the ladies of the court setting their caps at you, and I must hasten to warn my countrymen of your skill with the rapier, or you will be engaged in a dozen affairs of honour before you have been here as many days.