while Cumberland should deliver a flank attack
against Fontenoy and all in rear of it, by way of the open ground
between Fontenoy and the wood. A great cavalry attack round
the wood was projected but had to be given up, as in the late
evening of the 10th the Allies’ light cavalry drew fire from its
southern edge. Cumberland then ordered his cavalry commander
to form a screen facing Fontenoy, so as to cover the formation of
the infantry. On the morning of the 11th another and most
important modification had to be made. The advance was
beginning when the redoubt at the corner of the wood became
visible. Cumberland hastily told off Brigadier James Ingoldsby
(major and brevet-colonel 1st Guards), with four regiments and
an artillery detachment, to storm this redoubt which, crossing
its fire with that of Fontenoy, seemed absolutely to inhibit the
development of the flank attack. At 6 a.m. the brigade moved
off, but it was irresolutely handled and halted time after time;
and after waiting as long as possible, the British and Hanoverian
cavalry under Sir James Campbell rode forward and extended
in the plain, becoming at once the target for a furious cannonade
which killed their leader and drove them back. Thereupon Sir
John (Lord) Ligonier, whose deployment the squadrons were
to have covered, let them pass to the rear, and, hearing the guns
of the Dutch towards Antoing, pushed the British infantry forward
through the lanes, each unit on reaching open ground
covering the exit and deployment of the one in rear, all under the
French cannonade. This went on for two hours, and save that
it showed the magnificent discipline of the British and Hanoverian
regiments, was a bad prelude to the real attack. Cumberland’s
own exertions brought a few small guns to the front of the
Guards’ Brigade, and one of the first shots from these killed
Antoine Louis, duc de Gramont, colonel of the Gardes Françaises,
and another Henri du Baraillon du Brocard, Saxe’s artillery
commander.
It was now 9 a.m., and while the guns from the wood redoubt battered the upright ranks of the Allies, Ingoldsby’s brigade was huddled together, motionless, on the right. Cumberland himself galloped thither, and under his reproaches Ingoldsby lost the last remnants of self-possession. To Sir John Ligonier’s aide-de-camp, who delivered soon afterwards a bitterly formal order to advance, Ingoldsby sullenly replied that the duke’s orders were for him to advance in line with Ligonier’s main body. By now, too, the Dutch advance against Antoing-Fontenoy had collapsed.
But on the right the cannonade and the blunders together had roused a stern and almost blind anger in the leaders and the men they led. Ingoldsby was wounded, and his successor, the Hanoverian general Zastrow, gave up the right attack and brought his battalions into the main body. A second halfhearted attack on Fontenoy itself, delivered by some Dutch troops, was almost made successful by the valour of two of these battalions (one of them being the then newly raised Highland regiment, the Black Watch) which came thither of their own accord. Meantime the young duke and the old Austrian field-marshal had agreed to take all risks and to storm through between Fontenoy and the wood redoubt, and had launched the great attack, one of the most celebrated in the history of war. The English infantry was in two lines. The Hanoverians on their left, owing to want of space, were compelled to file into third line behind the redcoats, and on their outer flanks were the battalions that had been with Ingoldsby. A few guns, man-drawn, accompanied the assaulting mass, and the cavalry followed. The column may have numbered 14,000 infantry. All the infantry battalions closed on their centre, the normal three ranks becoming six. If the proper distances between lines were preserved, the mass must have formed an oblong about 500 yds × 600 yds (excluding the cavalry).
The duke of Cumberland placed himself at the head of the front line and gave the signal to advance. Slowly and in parade order, drums beating and colours flying, the mass advanced, straight up the gentle slope, which was swept everywhere by the flanking artillery of the defence. Then, when the first line reached the low crest on the ends of which stood the French artillery, the fire, hitherto convergent, became a full enfilade from both sides, and at the same moment the enemy’s horse and foot became visible beyond. A brief pause ensued, and the front gradually contracted as regiments shouldered inwards to avoid the fire. Then the French advanced, and the Guards Brigade and the Gardes Françaises met face to face. Captain Lord Charles Hay (d. 1760), lieutenant of the First (Grenadier) Guards, suddenly ran in front of the line, took off his hat to the enemy and drank to them from a pocket flask, shouting a taunt, “We hope you will stand till we come up to you, and not swim the river as you did at Dettingen,” then, turning to his own men, he called for three cheers. The astonished French officers returned the salute and gave a ragged counter-cheer. Whether or not the French, as legend states, were asked and refused to fire first, the whole British line fired one tremendous series of volleys by companies. 50 officers and 760 men of the three foremost French regiments fell at once, and at so appalling a loss the remnant broke and fled. Three hundred paces farther on stood the second line of the French, and slowly the mass advanced, firing regular volleys. It was now well inside the French position, and no longer felt the enfilade fire that swept the crest it had passed over. By now, as the rear lines closed up, the assailants were practically in square and repelled various partial attacks coming from all sides. The Régiment du Roi lost 33 officers and 345 men at the hands of the Second (Coldstream) Guards. But these counter-attacks gained a few precious minutes for the French. It was the crisis of the battle. The king, though the court meditated flight, stood steady with the dauphin at his side,—Fontenoy was the one great day of Louis XV.’s life,—and Saxe, ill as he was, mounted his horse to collect his cavalry for a charge. The British and Hanoverians were now at a standstill. More and heavier counter-strokes were repulsed, but no progress was made; their cavalry was unable to get to the front, and Saxe was by now thinking of victory. Captain Isnard of the Touraine regiment suggested artillery to batter the face of the square, preparatory to a final charge. General Löwendahl galloped up to Saxe, crying, “This is a great day for the king; they will never escape!” The nearest guns were planted in front of the assailants, and used with effect. The infantry, led by Löwendahl, fastened itself on the sides of the square, the regiments of Normandy and Vaisseaux and the
