With Frederick the Great: A Story of the Seven Years' War by G. A. Henty (parable of the sower read online txt) 📖

advance to the sound of your drums." They waited for a time, while the attack on Hahlen continued. It was repulsed three times before it succeeded, but before this happened the English regiments lost patience, and said, "We ought to be moving." The drums therefore struck up and, to the astonishment of the Hanoverians, these English battalions strode away towards the enemy. However, the regiments of the second line followed.

As the British stepped forward, a tremendous crossfire of artillery opened upon them, thirty guns on one side and as many on the other; but in spite of this the six regiments pressed on unfalteringly, with their drums beating lustily behind them. Then there was a movement in their front, and a mighty mass of French cavalry poured down upon them. The English halted, closed up the gaps made by the artillery, held their fire until the leading squadrons of the French were within forty paces, and then opened a tremendous file fire. Before it man and horse went down. At so short a distance every bullet found its billet and, for the first time in history, a line of infantry repulsed the attack of a vastly superior body of cavalry.

Astonished, and hampered by the fallen men and horses of their first line, the French cavalry reined up and trotted sullenly back to reform and repeat the charge. The British drums beat furiously as the French rode forward again, only to be repulsed as before. Six times did the cavalry, with a bravery worthy of their reputation, renew the charge. Six times did they draw back sullenly, as the leading squadrons withered up under the storm of shot. Then they could do no more, but rode back in a broken and confused mass through the gaps between their infantry, throwing these also into partial confusion.

"Ride to Lord Sackville, and tell him to charge with his cavalry, at once," the duke said to Fergus; and then checking himself said, "No, I had better send someone else," and repeated the order to another of his staff.

Sackville only replied that he did not see his way to doing so. A second and then a third officer were sent to him, with a like result, and at last he himself left his cavalry and rode to the duke and inquired:

"How am I to go on?"

The duke curbed his anger at seeing the fruits of victory lost. He replied quietly:

"My lord, the opportunity is now past."

Harassed only by the fire of the British and Hanoverian guns, and by that of the British infantry, Contades drew off his army by the nineteen bridges into his stronghold. Broglio, who had done nothing save keep up a cannonade, covered the retreat with his division. The total amount of loss on the duke's side was two thousand eight hundred and twenty-two, of which more than half belonged to the British infantry. The French loss was seven thousand and eighty-six, with their heavy guns and many flags; but had Sackville done his duty, their army would have been annihilated, pent up as it was with the river on each flank, convergent to each other at Minden; a perfect rat trap from which no army could have escaped, had it been hotly pressed by cavalry.

The feat performed by the British infantry astonished Europe, who were at first almost incredulous that six regiments in line could have repulsed, over and over again, and finally driven off the field, ten thousand of the best cavalry of France.

While the battle was raging, the Hereditary Prince had done his share of the work, had fallen upon Gohfeld, crushed the French division guarding it, cutting the French from their magazines and rendering their position untenable. They received the news that evening, and at once commenced their retreat, Broglio towards Frankfort and Contades straight for the Rhine. The latter was obliged to abandon all his baggage, and many of his guns; and his army, by the time it had reached the Rhine, had become a mere rabble. The general was at once recalled in disgrace, and Broglio appointed commander-in-chief; although by failing to carry out the orders he had received, to fall upon the allies left at five in the morning, he had largely contributed to the defeat that had befallen Contades.

Chapter 17: Unexpected News.

The fury of the British cavalry, at the shameful inactivity in which they had been maintained, was unbounded; and their commander, if he moved from his tent, was saluted with hisses and jeers by the troopers. It was not for long, however; for as soon as the news was known at home, he was ordered to return. On the afternoon of the same day, an officer rode over to headquarters and asked for Major Drummond.

"I am here, sir," he said courteously, "on behalf of Lord Sackville. He will be leaving for England tomorrow, and I am the bearer of a hostile message from him. I shall be obliged if you will put me in communication with some officer who will act on your behalf."

"Certainly," Fergus replied. "I was expecting such a message."

He had already heard of the order that Sackville had received; and had requested Major Kurstad, a fellow aide-de-camp, to act for him should he send him a hostile message. Going in he spoke to Kurstad, who at once went out and introduced himself to the British officer.

"This is a painful business," the latter said, "and I can assure you that I do not undertake it willingly. However, I overheard the altercation between Lord Sackville and Major Drummond, and the same night he asked me to act for him, when the time for it came. I consented, and cannot draw back from the undertaking; but I need hardly say that, after what happened at Minden, no English officer, unless previously pledged, would have consented to act for him. I suppose, sir, there is no use in asking whether the matter cannot be arranged."

"Not in the slightest. Major Drummond told me that he had expressed his willingness to meet the general, and he is certainly not one to withdraw from his word. My friend chooses swords. In fact the use of pistols, on such occasions, is quite unknown in the Continental army."

"As Lord Sackville leaves tomorrow morning, we should be glad if you would name an early hour."

"As early as you like. It is light at half-past four."

"Then shall we say five o'clock?"

"Certainly."

"And the place?"

"There is a small clump of trees on the heath, two miles west of our camp."

"We will be there at that time, sir. Would you object to each side being accompanied by a second friend? I ask it because, did anything happen to my principal, I should certainly wish that another witness was present at the duel."

"We have no objection," Major Kurstad said. "We shall also bring a surgeon with us, and of course you can do the same, if you are disposed."

The two officers saluted, and the major returned to Fergus.

"Do you mean to kill him?" he asked, after he had told him of the arrangements that had been made.

"Certainly not. The man is an overbearing fool, and I merely wish to give him a lesson. Personally, I should be glad if the whole of the officers of the British force could be present, in order that he might be as much humiliated as possible; but even if I hated the man--and I have no shadow of feeling of that kind--I would not kill him. He is going home to England to be tried by court martial, and its sentence is likely to be a far heavier blow, to a bully of that kind, than death would be. He has a taste of it already, for I hear that he is hooted whenever he leaves his tent."

At the appointed time the two parties arrived, almost at the same moment, at a spot arranged. Fergus was accompanied by Major Kurstad and another officer of the duke's staff, and by the duke's own surgeon. Formal salutations were exchanged between the seconds. The duelling swords were examined, and found to be of the same length. There was no difficulty in choosing the ground, as there was an open space in the centre of the little wood, and the sun had not risen high enough to overtop the trees. As, therefore, the glade was in shade, there was no advantage, in point of light, to either combatant.

Lord Sackville had the reputation of being a good fencer, but in point of physique there was no comparison between the combatants. Sackville was a tall and powerfully-built man, but dissipation and good living had rendered his muscles flabby and sapped his strength, although he was still in what should have been his prime. Fergus, on the other hand, had not a superfluous ounce of flesh. Constant exercise had hardened every muscle. He was a picture of health and activity.

The general viewed him with an expression of vindictive animosity; while his face, on the other hand, wore an expression of perfect indifference. The uniform coats were removed, and the dropping of a handkerchief gave the signal for them to commence.

Lord Sackville at once lunged furiously. The thrust was parried, and the next moment his sword was sent flying through the air. His second did not move to recover it.

"Why do you not bring it here?" Sackville exclaimed, in a tone of the deepest passion.

"Because, my lord," his second said coldly, "as you have been disarmed, the duel necessarily terminates; unless your antagonist is willing that the sword shall be restored to you."

"I shall be obliged if you will give it him, Major Buck," Fergus said quietly. "A little accident of this sort may occur occasionally, even to a noted swordsman, when fighting with a boy."

The general was purple with passion, when he received the sword from his second.

"Mind this time," he said between his teeth as, after a preliminary feint or two, he again lunged.

Again the sword was wrenched from his hand, with a force that elicited an exclamation of pain from him.

"Pray, give the general his sword again, Major Buck," Fergus said.

"You hold your rapier too tightly, General Sackville. You need a little more freedom of play, and less impetuosity. I don't want to hurt you seriously, but your blood is altogether too hot, and next time I will bleed you on the sword arm."

Steadying himself with a great effort, Sackville played cautiously for a time; but after parrying several of his thrusts, without the slightest difficulty, Fergus ran him through the right arm, halfway between the elbow and the shoulder, and the sword dropped from his hand.