"Well, to cut my tale short, we made two attacks on that hill, and both times were driven back. Things began to look like a drawn game, when up comes Louis, the Prince, you know, with a lot of his Germans, and at it we went again. In the thick of it, my colonel suddenly called out, 'Can you ride, Blackett?' 'Try me, sir,' I says. And he gave me a note for the Duke, telling me that he had not another officer left who could ride, all our fellows had been laid low or dispersed. I galloped off like the wind, on a big hard-mouthed brute. Just as I was nearing the spot where the Duke stood, a dozen Bavarians suddenly blocked my path and levelled their muskets. I was on a bit of a slope and above their heads, in a manner, so I kicked up my nag and in an instant I flew over them, guns and all. It was a clean jump, and not a shot hit me, by good luck. My horse managed to carry me on to the Duke, and then fell dead. The poor beggar had caught what had been intended for me. Well, now I've done. The Duke, who had seen it all, had me transferred to a cavalry regiment, with the rank of lieutenant, and here I am."
"Yes, and here am I, a private, talking in this off-hand sort of way to a commissioned officer."
"That's all right, Fairburn," laughed Blackett, "we haven't entered you yet. It'll be quite time enough to bother about that sort of thing then. Officially we shall have to be master and man; actually we shall be brothers."
Thus the ancient rivals became comrades in arms, and members of the same regiment, for George from that time was a cavalry man. His other friend, Fieldsend, was attached to a line regiment again.
Bit by bit Lieutenant Blackett, during the next days, contrived to give his friend a full and vivid account of the great battle of Blenheim, just won by the Allies. He was not a great hand at a tale, whatever he might be on the field, and we may piece together his story for him. His adventures and his doings in that memorable fight may well delay our tale for a little space.
That year Louis of France had determined to make a vigorous effort, or rather a series of efforts, and sent various armies to oppose the different members of the Grand Alliance. But his main plan was to attack the Empire, making Bavaria, the Elector of which was his only supporter in that part of the world, his advance post. For some time Louis had been secretly encouraging Hungary in the rebellion she was contemplating. He trusted, therefore, that the Emperor would find himself attacked by his Hungarian subjects to rearward, while he was engaged with the combined French and Bavarian forces in front. It was a very fine scheme.
But there was one man, and only one, who saw through it—Marlborough. At once the Duke set off southwards, carrying with him also a force of Dutchmen, deceiving their rulers by a ruse. He sent for the valiant Prince Eugene to meet him, and the two famous generals saw each other for the first time. Mutual admiration and friendship sprang up between them, to last through the rest of their lives. Prince Louis of Baden had given some trouble by wishing to share the command with Marlborough. Him they at last got rid of by sending him to take the important fortress of Ingolstadt, commanding the Danube. Marlborough's magnificent march from the Netherlands to the upper Danube is one of the finest things in military story.
Marlborough and Prince Eugene met with the French and Bavarian forces near the village of Blenheim, on the same river, and close to Hochstädt, the scene of the defeat of the allied troops the year before, and joyfully the leaders prepared to join battle. The commanders on the side of the enemy were Marshal Marsin, the Prince of Bavaria, and Marshal Tallard. The last of these had managed to slip past Eugene some time before and join his colleagues.
The order of battle on the side of the Allies was this. The right was commanded by Eugene, the left by Lord Cutts, a gallant officer, the centre, a vast body of cavalry mainly, by Marlborough himself. Opposed to Eugene were the Elector and Marsin, while Tallard faced the Duke, but on the farther bank of the little brook Nebel, which empties itself into the Danube just below. Tallard's centre was weak, as he had crowded no fewer than seventeen battalions into the village of Blenheim, on his extreme right and close to the bank of the great river.
"Now, gentlemen, to your posts." These words, quietly and pleasantly spoken by Marlborough, began the great battle of Blenheim. It was about midday, August 13, 1704. The Duke had been waiting till he heard that Prince Eugene was ready, and he had occupied the interval in breakfast and prayers. Every man of his division was provided with a good meal. He himself had attended divine service and had received the sacrament the evening before.