The Battle of Seneffe - Sources - Part 3 - Duc d'Aumale's Account
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| Prince Louis II de Bourbon, "le Grande" Condé. |
This is a selection from the Duc d'Aumale's Histoire des Princes de la maison de Condé about the Battle of Seneffe in 1674. This post is the third in my series presenting sources for the Battle of Seneffe in 1674, the first of which presented a translation of William of Orange's letters, the second of which was from Quincy's Histoire Militaire. This document was translated using ChatGPT. The original footnotes are preserved and translated at the bottom.
— THE CAMP OF PIÉTON. ARMIES IN CONTACT (August 10th).
[…] The Estinnes camp, occupied by order, was too far back and unsuitable in every way. Prince Condé left it on July 23rd; marching in four columns, he came to a halt 11 kilometers from Charleroi. The army deployed facing east, on a gently accentuated humpbacked hill, about 1800 meters wide, surrounded to the north, west, and east by two looping streams, and losing itself to the south in the Marche woods, whose names (Coron-les-Bois, etc.) still preserve the memory. In front of the left, the town and castle of Trazegnies; behind the right, the village of Piéton — a name that has become legendary.
The shape and size of the terrain allowed for varied tactical maneuvers, protected by a serrated line of intervals, which was quickly built and armed with artillery. As the camp occupied the center of the massif, a wide false berm existed between the entrenchment and the streams, making the position impregnable. The vicinity of Charleroi and the Sambre ensured provisions of all kinds. From a strategic point of view, the advantages were no less significant. Look at the map, find the stream and village that bear the name of the Piéton camp; you will see Prince Condé able to reach out to rallied detachments, convoys, reinforcements, and threatening the enemy everywhere, menacing all their lines of operations. Whichever side danger arises from or opportunities present themselves, Prince Condé is ready...
Soon, events hastened. The troops detached by order of the minister successively return to the camp of Piéton, bringing the strength of the French army to about 45,000 men. The allies[1] concentrate and approach, Condé senses an impending, terrible, decisive encounter. The advance guards are pushed forward; the light cavalry increases its audacity. Each day is marked by a new exploit of Saint-Clas. On August 8th, he returns after capturing an important courier, from whom the following summary is obtained: the enemy is camped from Arquennes to Nivelles; they claim to have 170 squadrons, totaling 30,000 to 35,000 horses, and 70 battalions, amounting to 35,000 to 40,000 men, making a total of 65,000 to 75,000 men. Furthermore, they can call upon garrisons from Flanders or Hainaut. They bake bread in Mons; they have stockpiles of wheat in Brussels.
On August 9th, at ten o'clock in the evening, Prince Condé writes to the King: the enemy has been moving; their left is still near Arquennes; the outposts of their right are pushed toward the Buisseret woods, in the direction of Familleureux; their front is between Feluy and Seneffe. Will they march tomorrow? - We fear a shortage of forage and, not wanting to retreat all the way to Maubeuge, where we would no longer be within reach of anything, we were looking for a new position in the vicinity, without hoping to find all the military advantages we currently enjoy... It is likely that the enemy will trouble us by marching. "We will try to receive them well. So far, our parties have not been unsuccessful. I have been on horseback all day to go and reconnoiter them." Prince Condé is in action. He smells gunpowder, and his forces have been reinvigorated.
On the 10th, the allies stay put. On both sides, the generals are outside; they observe each other without engaging. The Prince of Orange, his confidants, and his supporters would like to give it to the French entrenchments, seeking weaknesses but finding none, they return to their quarters rather annoyed. However, they report a reassuring observation - every medal has its reverse side: the stronger the French position, bristling with obstacles, the more difficult it will be to break out. Clearly, Condé is no longer as formidable; he will be left to languish behind these entrenchments where he feels secure, and if he decides to move out, before he crosses the Samme[2] and is freed from the defiles that surround him, the allies will be far away or will have found good positions to receive him; perhaps the road to Paris is now open; and Guillaume presses Mr. de Souches, trying to flatter him and shake off his lethargy.
Prince Condé is convinced that the enemy will march; as he dismounts in the afternoon of the 10th, he has made his arrangements. Yes, the outlets of the camp are quite inconvenient, especially to the north: ravines, swamps, woods, and finally the stream that must be crossed by fords and bridges; there lies a cause of congestion, fatal delays. To remedy this and have a force at hand to strike the enemy's flank, whether attacking or marching, day or night, Prince Condé immediately moves, on the evening of the 10th, beyond Piéton, about 3,500 men and 1,500 horses, with six light guns[3], which spend the night hidden in a hollow, a few hundred meters north of the entrenchments. In the camp itself, near the outlets, 3,000 elite horsemen are also massed. Gardes du Corps, Cuirassiers, Gendarmes, fifteen hundred dragoons (Colonel-General), the finest in the world, and four battalions (Navarre, Royal-Italian), who can move wherever necessary at the first signal.
With his light horsemen, Saint-Clas scours the country between Piéton and the Samme, sending some riders beyond this river to maintain contact with the enemy without arousing suspicion. In the middle of the night, these scouts cross back over the Samme and rejoin the grand guard: the enemy is marching! Soon, a sinister noise, growing and approaching, confirms the scouts' report and betrays the passage of a large army on the move: the tumult of men and horses, an unbroken sort of thunder, the rumbling of the ground shaken by long lines of wagons, heavy gun carriages, laden with artillery, pontoons, and baggage.
II. — NIGHT OF AUGUST 10TH TO 11TH. THE ALLIES ON THE MOVE.
Immediately informed, Prince Condé crosses the Piéton before dawn; his son, his lieutenant generals, Luxembourg, Navailles, Fourilles, Rochefort, and a few others like Montal and Choiseul accompany him. The troops that left in the evening, as well as those designated a little later, will follow him. The others silently form up, ready to march at the first command, led by the marshals of the camp. The traces of a gout attack have not entirely disappeared: Condé could not wear boots, dressed for the occasion in shoes and silk stockings, but galloping with ease, he quickly crosses the rugged terrain that separates the Piéton basin from the Samme basin, reaching a commanding height; the day before, he had lingered there for a long time. Even today, this point is marked by the hermitage of Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows[4]. A few cavalrymen are on sentry duty there; Prince Condé listens to their reports, observes for a moment himself, and promptly rejoins his main guard, gathered half a league to the north, in a hollow near Belle farm, where Saint-Clas awaits his general. From there, a sort of promontory[5] advances into the valley; the view is as extensive as from the Chapel of the Seven Sorrows, and the position itself holds great significance, which events will highlight and which Saint-Clas has rightly recognized. He had been there before dawn and hadn't moved; he had already seen much. Condé stands beside him, listens, looks, and reflects. To his left, about two leagues to the south, the spire[6] of the Priory of Saint-Nicolas rises from amidst the orchards; lower down, below the Priory, there is a marshy area and a few cabins that today form the village of Manage. Beyond that, a small plain bordered on the west by woods and on the east by the Samme, which, not being canalized as it is today, flowed at the foot of the heights, carrying its waters from south to north, amid marshes, clumps of alders, and poplars, continuing its course towards Brussels. At Condé's feet, groves and some houses[7] form a sort of head at the bridge that crosses the Samme, leading on the left bank to the village of Seneffe. There, the enemy's rear guard is stationed, its baggage train not having yet passed beyond it, while the vanguard is already well beyond Fayt; for from the heights that Condé has just traversed, from the Belle mill as well as from the Chapel of the Seven Sorrows, this rough sketch shows approximately the distances, the directions of the main watercourses and the "Royal Road," and indicates some locations, allowing the reader to follow not the details but the entire landscape we have just described, crisscrossed by the interminable columns of the allied army, long serpents whose coils slowly unfold, appearing in meadows, glades, disappearing behind villages, and especially in the woods that cover the region.
Of all battlefields, those in Belgium are perhaps the most unrecognizable. Nowhere have more woods been cleared; the opening of numerous canals and advances in cultivation have drained formerly marshy meadows, reduced the volume, narrowed the beds of many rivers and streams, and softened many formerly steep slopes. Thus, a host of obstacles described by military historians have disappeared or been transformed, and today their traces are difficult to find. This is true not only for the battlefields of the 17th century but also for those of 1815. The Ligny stream is now only a trickle; at Quatre-Bras, where the Duke of Bernard de Saxe-Weimar's brigade held its ground for so long, and at Waterloo, the changes are no less significant; where can one find today the hollow path of Ohain and the natural parapet behind which the English Guards remained unshaken? In the coal basins, the transformation is even more complete, and the upheaval total; everywhere there are houses, pits, chimneys, trenches, mounds, railways in all directions; scarcely any traces remain of the area's former state. This is particularly true for the strange elongated battlefield[8] where French and allied forces clashed for fourteen hours on August 11, 1674.
The day of the 10th was drawing to a close when Feldzeugmeister de Souches, yielding to William's insistence, allowed himself to be persuaded to resume the march interrupted the day before. As soon as the Feldzeugmeister changed his attitude, he became as eager to set his troops on the move as he had previously seemed resolved not to disturb their rest; now that his mind was made up, he wanted to finish with the defile before Prince Condé's camp; moreover, since they had to march, he wanted to secure good quarters and ready lodgings. The Imperial Army had the vanguard; their baggage set off in the night under escort. At the front was Mr. de Fariaux, the major-general in the service of Holland, with 2,000 horses provided by the three armies. The Feldzeugmeister allowed him a little head start, then proceeded with his troops. It was the noise caused by this mobilization that had initially attracted Saint-Clas's attention. The Dutch army followed the Emperor's, and the Spanish army came third. The order was given to march in three columns, with cavalry on the left side near the river, infantry in the center, and wagons on the right, either along or across the woods. The direction was set towards Haine-Saint-Pierre; that was where they would camp, lodging as best they could; the quartermasters had already set out and would provide for that.
The distance to be covered varied between five and four leagues, depending on whether the troops were leaving from more distant quarters (such as Arquennes, for example) or closer to Haine-Saint-Pierre; a short stage but a long one to cover. For three columns, there was only one road, a single "royal road," which went from Nivelles to join an ancient Roman road, the "Chaussée Brunehaut," and branched off towards Mons or Landrecies. Mons was the objective of the allies; they planned to reach it in two days. The center column held the royal road, while the other two had to find their way through bad rural roads or across meadows and woods. As they moved away from the starting point, the obstacles multiplied: marshes, orchards, fences, villages with narrow streets, thickets, sunken roads, steep slopes; between Prieuré-Saint-Nicolas and Fayt, the terrain narrowed significantly. The first corps had managed to pass, albeit with difficulty, but the others were entangled, piled up. Just imagine the crowds! So many people! So many wagons! Sixty to seventy thousand combatants, whose number was almost doubled by the carters, servants, women, especially, nearly a hundred thousand souls[9].
At certain moments, they couldn't move forward or backward, and the congestion seemed insurmountable; as a result, Mr. de Souches had already settled into his quarters in Haine-Saint-Pierre while the tail of the convoys was five leagues behind.
Positioned at the height and slightly above Seneffe, blocking the village from stragglers and wagons, the rearguard waited for the end of the column to take the same route. Like the vanguard, it was composed of detachments from the three armies: five thousand horsemen, a few hundred dragoons, and three regiments of Dutch infantry. Prince de Vaudemont, who commanded it, was a lieutenant general in the service of Spain and not unknown to the French officers. His brilliant mind and noble appearance had been admired at the court; he had started his military career with Condé in 1668 in Franche-Comté and had fought in the same region, but on the other side, in this same year of 1674. He was the son of the Duke of Lorraine and Cantecroix, essentially a bastard, as Saint-Simon takes pleasure in repeating frequently. Neither this origin nor his self-proclaimed status as a foreign prince would harm him in the eyes of Louis XIV; however, he wanted to secure a position in the King's mistress's chambers, a privilege reserved for the King himself, and this displeased him. The change didn't bother the son of Charles IV; he sided with the Spaniards, ready to switch to the service of the Emperor, and was well received everywhere because he was a brave and competent officer. Thus, he found consolation in losing the friendship of the King of France by gaining that of the Prince of Orange; this wouldn't be his last evolution, but it was his current stance, and we will stick to it.
This morning of August 11th seemed long to him. He was there, facing the Seneffe bridge, before dawn; his dragoons occupied a mill on the other side, patrolled in the bushes; the hours passed monotonously; not a single Frenchman in sight.
As soon as Saint-Clas had somewhat exposed the presence and movement of the enemy, he had withdrawn all his people: the main guard hidden in a hole, sparsely scattered outposts not exceeding the ridges, taking shelter behind walls, tree trunks. With the tact and finesse of a light troops officer, Condé had immediately joined in his lieutenant's game; he hid next to him on the Belle promontory and would not show his forces any more than the other side would reveal its scouts.
The troops that had assembled in a fold of the terrain near the Vandebeke[10] castle now wound their way through the valleys to the points designated for them by the general officers under Prince Condé's orders. There was no rush; the movements were calculated so that they would all arrive simultaneously, a little before ten o'clock, at their combat positions around Seneffe. That was the opportune moment: if attacked later, the enemy rearguard would find the roads cleared and might seek shelter; if earlier, the main body of the army would not be deeply enough entrenched in the defiles and could attempt an offensive return. As for Saint-Clas, he would change his role and depart with his five hundred horses; through ravines and woods, he would head straight towards Marimont, even as far as Binche if necessary. He was looking for the confederates' vanguard. As soon as he had joined it on the side of Haine-Saint-Pierre, he would show himself, increase his numbers, make some noise, and engage in a skirmish. Surprised, Mr. de Fariaux would signal to Mr. de Souches the unexpected appearance of the enemy from a different direction. The feldzeugmeister would take the necessary measures, give orders, and mobilize his troops. When Saint-Clas disappeared, he would have delayed the imperial army by several hours and achieved his objective.
Between the vanguards and the main body of troops, Choiseul, a marshal of the camp, had stopped halfway, at the highest point, at Notre-Dame-des-Sept-Douleurs, with a few horsemen, more like messengers. His mission was to observe from afar, forewarn, and connect the main body, the detachments, and the vanguards. At the other end, towards Nivelles, Fourilles, with eight hundred horses, was looking for a ford to cross the Samme, which he did in front of Renissart[11]. He would push back the Spanish squadrons guarding the tail of the baggage train, overturn the wagons, and return to Mr. de Vaudemont's flank. The movement was a little wide, but not perilous in the circumstance and would be effective.
Montal was in charge of the central attack. Near the hamlet of Belle, behind the last ridges, facing and quite close to the Seneffe bridge, he formed his troops: Colonel-General Dragoons of Rannes and Chevau-légers of Tilladet in the front line, followed by the Fusiliers du Roi with their cannons, supported by seven infantry battalions. A little below the village, following the water's course and sneaking behind the Montal brigade, Prince Condé would cross the Samme[12] with the two thousand horsemen of the Maison du Roi. With martial joy, he took the lead of this elite cavalry; he knew what to expect from the soldiers who followed him.
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| Map of Seneffe and its environs. |
III. — TEN O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. BATTLE OF SENEFFE. DESTRUCTION OF THE ALLIES' REARGUARD.
Meanwhile, the security of Prince de Vaudemont had been disturbed... albeit a little late, perhaps. One of his patrols, while searching the thickets on the right bank, thought it saw a few riders who quickly disappeared. Various signs confirmed this rapid observation. Vaudemont was preparing to dismiss his infantry when he halted it, brought it back into the village, recalled the posts he had beyond the water, and ordered the bridge to be barricaded or destroyed. He didn't have time for it; suddenly, he found himself threatened, almost surrounded on all sides.
It was ten o'clock. The Colonel-General Dragoons galloped out, in small groups, from the gorges and thickets that bordered the Samme, dislodging the enemy dragoons who tried to defend the bridge by firing their rifles. They dismounted from their horses, quickly dismantled a rudimentary barricade, seized the first houses on the other side, and opened the passage for the Tilladet brigade. Our cavalry crossed the bridge, cleared the gardens, and overturned any detachments they encountered, then rallied northeast of Seneffe, covering the exit of a second bridge downstream, which the squadrons of the Maison du Roi would cross. The Dutch infantry was driven into the large houses of the village, attempting to entrench themselves there.
Already, the Fusiliers du Roi had crossed the Samme and turned left to place their six pieces in position, covered by a small stream flowing in a marshy hollow parallel to the Samme, which prevented any flanking movement to the south of Seneffe. The light artillery emerged with its sprightly appearance. Small-caliber projectiles did not have much effect on the thick walls, but they inconvenienced the defenders and swept through the alleys. Some cannonballs went further, reaching the battle cavalry of Prince de Vaudemont, which was forming at some distance west of the village.
Under the protection of this cannonade, the musketry of the dragoons, and the maneuvers of the Tilladet brigade, Montal arranged his infantry, which had quickly crossed the Seneffe bridge. His first three battalions were deployed in a fan shape; he immediately initiated the attack and led it with his usual ardor, encompassing the entire village, driving the defenders ahead of him and pushing them towards the center, where they barricaded themselves in the church. At this point, the resistance was more spirited but soon ended with the entry into line of the two reserve battalions. The entire village was taken. Not one of the Dutch infantrymen escaped; all were killed or captured. Their commander, a cousin of the stadtholder, young Prince Maurice of Nassau, was wounded and captured while fighting valiantly. The losses of the French were low; they would have been insignificant if Montal had had the patience to let the artillery do its work; but this ardent soldier had the noble defects of his qualities and had been a bit hasty. He paid the price for his fervor and had to withdraw, his leg broken by a gunshot.
This infantry battle was not over when the Maison du Roi, taking advantage of the bridge that crossed the Samme a little downstream from Seneffe, emerged behind the squadrons of the Tilladet brigade. Rochefort was at the forefront with his company and that of Noailles[13]. He was happy and proud to have his Guards of the Body, whom he had chosen, trained, and instructed with such care, "work" before his prince and general. He had barely passed the right flank of our light cavalry when he discovered the enemy's heavy cavalry deployed on undulating terrain a little above Seneffe, in front of the castle and the woods of Buisseret. Mr. de Vaudemont had adjusted his position to shield his riders from the French artillery fire. Three squadrons detached and faced Rochefort, a thousand horses against five hundred! Yet the enemy could have engaged even more men if not for the sunken roads that cut through and limited the terrain.
Rochefort didn't wait for the impact and charged without hesitation; the melee was intense, but the advantage was with numbers, especially when Prince Condé deployed the other companies of the Guards of the Body and the Guards Chevau-légers on the right without waiting for the Gendarmes and Cuirassiers, who arrived in file and remained in reserve[14]. Vaudemont immediately engaged two-thirds of his men; about three thousand of his cavalry were in combat with two thousand Frenchmen, but Prince Condé's momentum was irresistible; everything yielded before him; the large squadrons of the confederates were overturned on top of each other.
The Lorraine prince still had the advantage of numbers; he rushed to his third line to order his fresh squadrons to charge while the Guards of the Body reformed and before the Gendarmes arrived. At that moment, Fourilles, who had completed his flanking movement and had just defeated the wagon escort, appeared on the enemy squadrons' flank. This was decisive. All these cavalrymen of various nations, feeling unsupported, poorly led, and mistrustful of each other, didn't want to charge or wait for the impact and turned at a gallop[15] in the direction the bulk of the allied army had taken. They abandoned their colonels and many prisoners, including the Duke of Holstein, Count of Solms, and several other prominent figures, most of them wounded. Prince de Vaudemont, who had been swept up in the rout, was also wounded.
A large part of the equipment was abandoned, as the carters had cut the traces to escape; others, lost, took their wagons towards the already congested passes.
The success was striking. The rearguard of the confederates, this large detachment of over eight thousand elite men, was completely annihilated; all the war trophies, flags, standards, and timpani, were in the hands of the French. The survivors were either prisoners or fugitives who would not be rallied.
This first engagement lasted an hour and a half; it was the one that has been particularly known as the Battle of Seneffe. Can it be defined and limited as is customary? War actions cannot be divided into neat segments where one can choose what to take or leave. These divisions, which must be introduced into the account of the day of August 11th to try to bring some clarity, were barely noticeable in reality, and the events of the day would continue to unfold and link without any real interruption.
Should Prince Condé have, or could he have, contented himself with this harvest of laurels, courteously saluting the confederates, whose numbers he saw increase in front of him on the heights, and peacefully return to his camp, as is customary in maneuvers? This has been widely discussed. But doesn't one forget a prerequisite, essential condition? It would have required the consent of the Prince of Orange. In our opinion, Condé would have been wrong to count on it; if he had been inclined to let go when he had the enemy in his grasp, there is no doubt that William would have taken advantage of it and dealt him a severe blow.
IV. — NOON. BATTLE OF LA COURRE-AUX-BOIS. SPANISH ARMY REPULSED.
The Prince of Orange retains the general direction and exercises it effectively. He remains at the Priory of Saint-Nicolas, a considerable distance from Seneffe. It is quite far, but behind him, the Imperial army is even farther away. From this almost central position, William can oversee the whole situation, maintain communication with Count de Souches, whose assistance he eagerly awaits, and mobilize troops that will slow down the advance of the Prince of Condé. The "royal road" that stretches out before him leads directly to Seneffe, and it is through this route, the main artery of the day's maneuvers, that the Spanish army advances, or rather retreats. Laboriously, they emerge from hedges, orchards, and damp pastures, and come to the edge of a undulating and open plain, quite extensive, with the left in front of the Courre-aux-Bois farm and the right towards the Samme river. The splendid Walloon cavalry forms the core of this army; however, the Captain General, Count de Monterey, is not on the field, occupied elsewhere with other duties; his absence will be criticized. He is replaced by Marquis d'Assentar, the General Field Marshal. The infantry being scarce, with only one regiment under Count de Beaumont, the Prince of Orange reinforced it with six Dutch battalions led by Count de Waldeck and bolstered their confidence by having them followed by six hundred German horsemen, the first contingent sent by Count de Souches. The fleeing soldiers returning from Seneffe impede and slow down all these movements.
With the Guards of the Body, Condé followed closely behind Vaudemont's cavalry in their hasty retreat when, at about 1,500 meters ahead, he spotted the columns emerging from the Scailmont groves, seemingly leading a sizable force. The Prince stops and gives his orders. There are wounded to attend to, prisoners to gather, and above all, the troops must be reformed, and the scattered ones must be rallied. If Fourilles hadn't taken care to set fire to the abandoned wagons, there would be even fewer chevau-légers retained by looting.
While Luxembourg extends to the right, gaining ground with the light cavalry, Fourilles, back at the head of the Maison du Roi, supports the left and covers the general movement, especially that of the infantry, which prepares to attack the orchards and fences[16]. All the regiments left at the camp have been called; they are on the move, and the first units arrive, finding the fords already recognized, particularly upstream from Seneffe, towards Soudromont, which speeds up the crossing of the Samme and reduces the distance to travel. There is a need to hurry: Condé will not give his adversary the time to bring his reserves or even deploy his first line.
The disposition of the troops and the nature of the terrain indicate what this second engagement could be like. Though quite spirited, it lasted even less than the first; the movement and formations took more time than the action itself. The allies emerged from it battered but not without honor. The Walloon cavalry upheld its old reputation; its remnants were able to withdraw through the woods, which also facilitated the retreat of the infantry. They took some wounded, including Count of Waldeck and Prince Charles, dispatched by Mr. de Souches and the future Duke of Lorraine. They left more in the hands of the French, including Marquis d'Assentar, the Spanish general, who displayed the most brilliant courage[17]. Once again, a Mérode fell in battle; they are a valiant lineage.
Around one-thirty in the afternoon, Luxembourg, on the extreme right, had gained a lot of ground; in the center, the French infantry occupied the Scailmont castle at the foot of the Prieuré hill.
V. — ONE AND A HALF HOURS. BATTLE OF PRIEURÉ-SAINT-NICOLAS. DEATH OF FOURILLES. DEFEAT OF THE DUTCH.
Here is Condé grappling with his most passionate adversary. Clinging to the Prieuré of Saint-Nicolas-des-Bois, William stands firm to rally his beaten troops, save his artillery and part of his equipment, and give Mr. de Souches time to arrive, so that, with the help of God, he can resume the offensive. The passages become narrower, the slopes steeper, and the terrain more covered. These obstacles do not deter the Prince; he has the Maison du Roi within reach, and he will use them immediately. The light cavalry, which is continually reinforced by squadrons coming from the camp, forms up slightly behind on the recently conquered ground towards Scailmont; it is commanded by Luxembourg. Pressing to the right, he will go after the enemy troops escorting the artillery and equipment and, through this movement, encircle the Prieuré's stronghold. The infantry will attack this position head-on, which the Gardes du corps and Gendarmes will approach from the left, deploying to the best of their ability in very rugged terrain; as soon as they are formed, their first rank will charge; the Prince will move a little further with the second rank. Briefly, he gives instructions to Fourilles, as to a man who can understand a hint: "Go in headlong; you will be supported." On his part, Fourilles, with the ease of an experienced lieutenant, feels confident; is he not trusted by his general? Is he not too well-known to be doubted for an instant? He believes he can risk some observations: the terrain is not favorable; at the very least, it would be appropriate to let the horses catch their breath, wait until the fresh cavalry has gained ground, until the right flank's flanking movement becomes more pronounced...
There are moments when minutes seem like centuries to someone who believes victory is within grasp. Condé is no longer in control of himself; he only sees the goal drawing closer, and nothing can divert him from it; he forgets the man, the friend. With a gesture, he stops Fourilles: "I know, Sir, that you prefer reasoning to fighting, but I don't have time to listen to you, and I give you the order to charge." — Half an hour later, they brought back Fourilles riddled with wounds: "I know my fate is sealed," he said to one of his friends as he clasped his hand; "what I ask of God is to live a few more hours to see how that b... will get out of the mess he got himself into."[18] — The death of this brave man, falling under the blow of a cruel apostrophe, casts a shadow over Condé's glory.
The squadrons led by Fourilles, surrounded, shot at, and pushed back, suffered heavy losses; but with their blood, they had opened the way for the Prince, who, resuming the charge, pierced through everything before him. He would sever the communication between the Dutch army and the imperial army. The Dutch infantry sacrificed themselves to block his path; legend has it that the Prince of Orange's guard regiment perished entirely there.
On the other side, Luxembourg, deploying all the light cavalry brigades, extended far to the right, scattered three battalions guarding the equipment, seized all the carriages, and completed his flanking movement. The Prieuré is occupied by the French infantry. The troops of the States and those of Spain, reduced in number, leaving behind wounded, prisoners, and equipment, pass through the defiles in disorder, change direction, and march towards Fayt.
In the distance behind this village, you can see glinting weapons in the woods, observe masses moving. Nothing escapes the eye of the Prince, who silently prepares his orders. "It's a rout; the enemies are fleeing everywhere," murmur the flatterers or the careless in the staff. — "No," a youthful voice retorts; "they are changing front." Condé turns abruptly: "Young man, who taught you so much?" And the Prince adds with a smile, "He sees clearly." — This young man who "saw clearly" was twenty-one years old; he had only been with the army for a few months, yet he had already drawn Louis XIV's attention, and today he caught the eye of the Grand Condé. It was Hector de Villars, who would lead our soldiers to victory twenty times, pacify the Cévennes, and save France at Denain[19].
Villars had seen correctly; the enemies were not leaving the field.
VI. — GERMAN TROOPS RETURN TO FAYT. FACING REARWARDS IN BATTLE.
The Prince of Orange had lost a part of his army, all the baggage, pontoon equipment, and the treasury; he had seen many friends and relatives killed or captured, entire battalions destroyed, and almost all his squadrons broken through. So many terrible blows had not crushed his spirit; he prepares for a final struggle. To retreating troops, almost in flight, he once again gives Fayt's church tower as the direction. The Imperial troops, returning from their bivouac, were also converging on Fayt; it was the bulk of the army. As they had been in the vanguard in the morning, they had passed through Fayt quite early. Mr. de Souches, who commanded them, had initially dealt with some French squadrons that seemed to be coming straight from their camp and advancing towards La Hestre through the ravines. This was Saint-Clas's troop, and they had fulfilled their mission quite well. Engaging in cautious and skillful skirmishes, concealing their weakness, they managed to attract the feldzeugmeister's attention, so much so that he paid little attention to what was happening near Seneffe; he thought it was just a rear-guard action. The increasing noise and the growing number of fugitives hardly made an impression on this veteran. He was only more eager to reach the places where his lodgings were marked, Haine-Saint-Paul, Haine-Saint-Pierre, Saint-Vaast, to establish his troops there, secure his artillery and baggage. It took repeated alarming messages from the Prince of Orange, the intensity of the fighting, and the duration of the engagement to rouse him from his complacency. He ordered the baggage to be parked, the quarters to be abandoned, and the troops to turn back, but without haste and in echelons.
Thus, the entire allied army, both the fresh troops retracing their steps and those led by the Prince, who had been fighting since morning, found themselves gathered around the village of Fayt in a general movement of "facing rearwards in battle." From a distance, this sequence of marches, countermarches, advances, retreats, and alignments could be mistaken for an acceleration of retreat, a situation that the astute Villars had already anticipated. The position was formidable, but the allies had not fully occupied it yet; it would become impregnable if the Prince halted; otherwise, the enemy would break through, extend, and envelop the French; they would soon attempt it.
The "royal road," after passing through Prieuré-Saint-Nicolas, gently ascends the hillside and, at more than a quarter of a league away[20], reaches Fayt's church[21], whose bell tower had served as the point of direction for both armies since the morning. It was the stronghold of the village. The houses, generally sturdy and well-built, were scattered on a undulating and rather elevated plateau that opened up towards the south. Around the village, a belt of orchards and gardens, with thick hedges and sturdy walls, formed obstacles and provided strong points for defense. The countryside, once covered with forests, as indicated by the names of villages and places like La Hestre, La Basse-Hestre, and even Fayt[22], was still heavily wooded at that time, especially to the west and north: the Rœulx hedge, Haine woods. Also to the west, but closer to the village, was the Château de l'Escaille[23]. On this side, between the village and the woods, meandered a ravine, bordered by thickets and difficult to cross, which would play a role in the day's events. There were many hop fields with their tangled growth, especially to the east, where they mingled with springs and marshy meadows, on fairly steep and rugged slopes.
The Imperial troops, whose echelons were slowly distributing themselves on the described position, were the last to adhere to a compact order; their movements were cumbersome. William had some difficulty obtaining a more extended order from their generals, which would allow them to counter the anticipated flanking maneuvers. Their ranks opened to let through the more or less disorganized regiments coming up the "royal road." It could be expected that the enemy would be pressing them; they had to hurry. Thus, the battle formation was slightly reversed, with a mixture of the various armies comprising the allied force. However, the bulk of the Dutch troops was on the right wing[24], commanded by William, who was also everywhere and did not lose sight of Count de Souches, the object of his animosity. In the center and on the left[25], the Imperial infantry occupied the village and extended towards the woods, with masses and cavalry lined up behind. Prince Pio de San-Gregorio commanded on this side. The artillery, positioned on the right and left, had some guns ready to act; its main group was with the reserves, at the highest point of the plateau, with guns ready to bombard the village if the French took it.
Count de Souches was in the center; he kept an eye on everything; the old captain had awakened; through his experience, keen perception, and cool courage, he would rise to the level of the indomitable tenacity of the Prince of Orange. Tenacity! It was the virtue of the hour and the place. The allied generals could no longer hope for victory; it was about preventing defeat from turning into a rout; they had to use their numerical superiority and the advantage of their position to limit the enemy's advance and secure an honorable retreat. Their army would prove to be the worthy rival of the one they were fighting. Like their leaders, the soldiers would do their duty; the palm would go to the Germans. Robust, brave, and well-trained, they were intact and had not endured five hours of fatigue and peril like the others. If they had to yield before the French fury, they would regroup immediately. Every inch of ground abandoned by them would be dearly paid for; sometimes, they would retake lost ground, and in some areas, they would remain unshakable. This is what will be seen in the following account.
VII. — THREE AND A HALF HOURS. BATTLE OF FAYT. CONDÉ IN THE FRAY. BOTH ARMIES REMAIN IN PRESENCE AT NIGHT.
The nature of the terrain, the variety of battles fought since morning, and the recent incidents had disrupted the French battle formation, dividing the army into two columns, or rather two groups of columns of very unequal strength. On the right, northwest of the Prieuré, in the midst of the woods, the orchards and hop fields, beyond the road known as the Brussels road[26], M. de Luxembourg leads the troops that had taken the Dutch baggage and dispersed the escort. Along the "royal road" and beside it, several columns advance towards Fayt, while M. le Prince deploys his forces while marching. He wants to push the enemy without giving them time to rest, without waiting for the infantry reinforcements that can only arrive by evening. To halt would have meant retreating, and then he would have faced his opponent with fresh troops.
While Luxembourg presses with his flanking movement, Condé surrounds the village with almost all of his infantry formed in two lines. The engagement was long and very intense. The entire second line filled the gaps in the first. On the right, the three battalions of the French Guards, supported by the Swiss Guards, advance in a splendid order. Led vigorously and skillfully by Brigadier Rubentel, this "superb[27]" regiment gains enough ground at the cost of cruel losses: seven captains and many officers and soldiers were killed[28]. The Guards take a defensive position, forming a protective hook. Deployed on both sides of the road, the regiments of the King, Royal des Vaisseaux, Navarre, and La Reine, supported by the "little Swiss" (Stoppa, Erlach, Pfiffer, Salis), establish themselves in the orchards and the first houses. However, they are devastated by artillery and musketry and could not reach the church. Enghien, Condé, Conti, and Auvergne troops extend to the left; the command on this side belongs to the Duke of Navailles.
The frontal attack could only succeed with support from a flanking movement. This was what M. de Luxembourg attempted with the right wing. He began the operation with the Guards of the Body, cleared the approaches to the Haine woods, and then, shifting to the left, joined his main force (Picardie Regiment, Dragoons, and King's Cuirassiers), and attacked the troops attempting to extend the enemy's battle line to the west. Himself leading Picardie, he created a genuine breach in the masses trying to envelop him; his cavalry charged, defeated several battalions, and captured cannons. The Château de l'Escaille was taken, the woods and the Rœulx hedge were crossed, and the ravine was crossed. The Prince, accompanied by the Swiss Guards and some cavalry withdrawn from the center, moved towards his right to support, or rather to reinforce, his lieutenant; as Condé had prescribed to him to face right to stop a group of allied troops attempting to reach the rear of the French army through a circuit through the Haine woods. Luxembourg gained another advantage there: the flanking force did not have time to form; it was charged and dispersed. Its remnants retreated disorderly towards Braine-le-Comte. The victor abandoned the pursuit to return via Château de l'Escaille to his battle position and resume the attack he had temporarily suspended. He found the situation changed. Pressed by superior forces, the cavalry (King's House) he had left as a curtain to mark the position had to cross the ravine again. They stood in battle formation on the other side, being shot and bombarded by a brigade of the Imperial army led by a Frenchman, Count de Chavagnac[29]. They were so close to each other that Chavagnac heard French officers telling their men, decimated by bullets, "It's nothing, boys. Tighten ranks, tighten!"
Then comes the Grand Condé. He immediately counterattacks with the King's Cuirassiers and the Mestre-de-camp-général, who push forward, recapture the cannons, but cannot hold their ground in the midst of the infantry. The Imperial cavalry pursue them. Count Broglio de Revel, the Mestre de camp of the King's Cuirassiers, is wounded by a musket shot. The Duke of Enghien also receives two severe contusions. Worried about his son, the Grand Condé approaches; a cannonball shatters the hind legs of his horse; it is the third horse that has fallen dead under him since morning. "Save yourself, Monseigneur!" his squire shouts as he sees the enemy squadrons closing in. "And how can I do that with my crippled legs?" he responds, ready to laugh at his misadventure. The squire disappears with the horses. The Grand Condé hides among the puddles under a bush. The tide passes and recedes. They lift the hero, all wet, back into the saddle; once mounted, he regains his composure and returns to his place amidst his troops.
To continue the offensive, the ravine had to be occupied. The two battalions of the Swiss Guards arrived, still intact, preceded by their venerable reputation. The Grand Condé ordered them to dislodge the enemy from the natural obstacle that was obstructing their movements, but the fire was so intense, and the terrain so unfavorable that the Swiss could not cross the ravine. Their musketeers lay in ambush on the edge and maintained fire against those on the other side. The right wing of the French army was thus halted to the west of the village, holding part of the positions they had initially conquered, facing numerous and firmly established adversaries. There was nothing to do on this side but to stand firm without retreating.
Immediately changing his plan, the Grand Condé gave up trying to force the ravine; towards the west and north of the village, he limited himself to observing and containing the enemy; all his effort was focused on the left. Duke of Navailles had laboriously deployed eight battalions, supported by fifteen or sixteen squadrons, in a rugged, wooded terrain full of springs and marshy meadows to the east of Fayt. He was reinforced. At the end of the line, La Motte[30] led Royal des Vaisseaux and the King's Fusiliers, who couldn't bring their artillery but, equipped with superior armament, were a true elite force. Supported by four squadrons of the King's House and six squadrons of light cavalry, La Motte's brigade "performed marvels," repelled the charges of twelve squadrons, defeated four battalions, took numerous prisoners, and advanced to a large hedge between La Hestre and La Basse-Hestre. A lively and sustained fire halted our troops at this hedge, where they lay in ambush. Beyond it, above them, on the heights, masses of infantry and artillery were visible.
Nightfall found the French army positioned as such, maintaining fire everywhere without advancing or retreating, forming a broken line oriented from northwest to southeast along a front of about 1,800 meters, with the right wing extending to the Rœulx hedge, behind the ravine, the center in the orchards and the first houses of Fayt, and the left above La Basse-Hestre[31]. The allied army's masses presented a more extensive front, almost parallel but more regular, with the left towards the Rœulx hedge, the right towards the tip of the Marimont woods, and the center in an open terrain, with the 170-meter hill marking the highest point. Almost everywhere, the allies had the upper hand. They covered the road to Haine-Saint-Pierre, held the church, and a part of the village of Fayt.
There was a gap of about two hundred meters separating the two fronts. As long as the moon shone, the fire continued softly, without any offensive attempts from either side. Then, exhausted from fatigue, the men fell asleep in their positions, arms in their arms, barely guarded by a few sentinels but ready to resume this terrible struggle after a few hours of rest. It was indeed the plan of the Grand Condé, who, also wrapped in a cloak, had fallen asleep in a bush at La Basse-Hestre. The place was still known recently as "Épine du Prince." He had come there, on the left of his army, to support the Duke of Navailles, and it was from there that he now hoped to resume the offensive at dawn, counting on the imminent arrival of his artillery and infantry brought by Magalotti. He dreamt of a new battle when he was awakened by the resounding sound of a general fusillade.
VIII. — NIGHT ALERT. AT DAYBREAK, BOTH ARMIES HAVE DISAPPEARED.
Both sides were firing wildly, as is usual in night alerts; but the first coordinated shots seemed to come from the allied line, aiming to secure their retreat or rather attempt to change its character, giving it the appearance of an onward march, as if, after the battle, they were still pushing towards the designated stage set the day before, where the Imperial forces were already awaited by their baggage. The artillery passed first. With all other vehicles lost, the road was scarcely crowded; the infantry and cavalry followed swiftly. The march was not at all hindered. A string of light troops remained in position southeast of Fayt, lined up behind hedges and orchards to give warning in case of a French counteroffensive.
No noise disturbed the end of the night. At daybreak, one of the officers of this rearguard happened to look through a hole in a hedge. No French troops were in sight. The officer called his chief, Mr. de Chavagnac. Together they crossed the hedge and found themselves in a meadow, where, mixed with the corpses, lay numerous wounded who immediately stood up and, speaking in various languages, asked for surgeons or confessions.
Chavagnac promised to send a trumpeter to recommend them to the Grand Condé and galloped off to rejoin the allied headquarters at Haine-Saint-Paul[32]. Great joy greeted the news he brought. The generals ordered three volleys to celebrate their supposed victory and immediately set out to seek resources they lacked, reinforcements, assistance, and a safer lodging than villages in open country, under the walls of Mons[33].
[1] The Imperial Army was commanded by the Comte de Souches, Feldzeugmeister, who was proclaimed the overall commander of the Allies. The Army of the United Provinces was commanded by the Prince of Orange, Stadtholder, who was the soul of the coalition. The Spanish Army was commanded by the Count of Monterrey, Captain General, represented at the head of the troops by the Marquis of Assentar.
[2] The Samme river flows into the Senne below Tubize, 4,000 meters upstream from Hal.
[3] Two infantry regiments, La Reine and La Fère, a battalion of the Fusiliers du Roi serving and guarding the artillery, Brigade Tilladet (cavalry).
[4] 3500 meters to the west of the camp.
[5] The map of Belgium at 1/20,000 scale places the Belle tower there.
[6] This spire has disappeared. A massive building, the remains of the former priory, is now used as a gendarmerie barracks.
[7] The castle and the avenues seen there today did not exist then. Judging by the height of the oaks, a portion of ancient woods has been enclosed within the wall surrounding the park.
[8] This terrain is part of the most animated area of the Charleroi basin: the names now so well known as Manage and La Louvière could appear on a plan of this battlefield.
[9] In the Imperial army on campaign, the practice is to have four wagons for each company, plus a wagon for a sutler, one palfrey for each cavalryman, in addition to the war horse, but an indeterminate number for the infantry, women, and pack animals. As well as the army's baggage, wagons for provisions, the sick, ammunition, tools, etc. (Montecuccoli, Aphorisms, vol. I, p. 132.)
[10] Now transformed into a farm. The masonry walls, the armorial gate, the bridge's causeway, and the moat still exist.
[11] 3 kilometers north of Seneffe.
[12] The construction of the canal and the railway has disrupted the passages whose traces can still be found in the old bed of the Samme.
[13] The first company of the Guards of the Body, "Gardes écossais," bore the name of its captain, the Duke of Noailles, who was not present. The fourth company was commanded, since 1669, by the Marquis de Rochefort, who we see charging at its head. It later took the name Harcourt.
[14] Guards of the Body, second company, Luxembourg; third, Béthune; since 1671, the latter had the Duke of Duras as its captain. — It is remarkable that the captains of the three French companies, Duke of Luxembourg, Duke of Duras, Marquis de Rochefort, had followed Condé into exile. At Seneffe, the Guards of the Body formed eight squadrons commanded by Chazeron (François de Monestay), lieutenant of the Guards, who later died as a lieutenant general in 1697. The Chevau-légers of the Guard were led (their captain, the Duke of Luynes, was absent) by the sub-lieutenant Henri Balzac, Marquis d'Ailly, who was killed at the head of his company; they were part of the ten squadrons formed by the Gendarmerie corps, as were the Gendarmes du Roi, commanded by the captain-lieutenant Prince de Soubise, who was wounded. The Cuirassiers du Roi, three squadrons, recently formed and already held in high esteem by the army, were led by the Lieutenant Colonel Count de Revel (Charles de Broglie), who was wounded in the afternoon.
[15] Letter from the Prince of Orange to the States-General, 18 August 1674.
[16] The scene of this fight in Courre-aux-Bois is now crossed by the railway and partially occupied by the station and houses of Manage.
[17] He died of his wounds and was buried in Mons. — The Fourilles family had served in the French Guards from father to son; the elder brother had commanded the regiment as lieutenant colonel. As an exception, Jean-Jacques Chauméjean, Chevalier de Fourilles, served in the cavalry, having joined as a cornet in the Harcourt regiment in 1645. Since then, he campaigned every year; peace found him as a lieutenant colonel. He later became a brigadier general and lieutenant general in February 1674.
[18] Transported to Charleroy, Fourilles lived for another twelve days. The Fourilles family had served in the French Guards from father to son; the elder brother had commanded the regiment as a lieutenant colonel. In an exceptional case, Jean-Jacques Chauméjean, Chevalier de Fourilles, served in the cavalry, having entered as a cornet in the Harcourt regiment in 1645. Since then, he campaigned every year, and peace found him as a mestre de camp. Later, he followed Coligny to Hungary. In 1668, he inaugurated the duties to which the King's trust appointed him with the title of "visitor" of the cavalry. He became Mestre de Camp Général in 1670 and Lieutenant Général in February 1674.
[19] A few minutes later, when the general in chief led the charge in the midst of a dreadful melee, the same voice cried out: "Finally! This is what I desired so much to see, the Grand Condé with a sword in hand!"
[20] About 1100 meters.
[21] Recently rebuilt, the current church of Fayt occupies the location of the old one.
[22] The word Fayt, which in Walloon is pronounced Fa-ï, seems to be derived from "fagus" (beech), and according to others, from "faîne," the fruit of this tree, which was undoubtedly the dominant species in the region. — We need not remind you that to rediscover the state of the place we describe, one would have to go back over two hundred years. — See the Historical Notice on Fayt-les-Seneffe, by Jules de Soignies.
[23] About 400 meters northwest of the church. This castle marks the head of the ravine, still quite recognizable today.
[24] East side, in front of the French right.
[25] West side, in front of the French left.
[26] The road that, coming from Binche or Mons, leads through Fayt to Braine-le-Comte and Brussels.
[27] Noted by the Grand Condé himself in his review of May 12.
[28] On this day of August 11, the French Guards regiment had five hundred forty-eight men out of action, including forty-one officers.
[29] We have already encountered Count Gaspard de Chavagnac serving under the Grand Condé and playing a fairly important role during the civil war. He was a Huguenot and from a good family in Auvergne. He had a good military reputation. After the Peace of the Pyrenees, he went into the service of the Catholic king and then the Emperor. In 1681, he received a pardon and returned to France, where he died childless in 1690, after being married three times. He left behind Memoirs, which must be consulted with discretion, as he certainly did not write them himself. — His brother François, who had also followed the Grand Condé in 1651, established a lineage and died in 1675.
[30] La Motte (Charles Guillaud, Count de La Motte), a captain in the Regiment of Condé, followed M. le Prince to the Netherlands. He became the lieutenant-colonel of the Regiment of Anguien upon its reestablishment on October 26, 1667, and later became the colonel-lieutenant of the same regiment on April 8, 1672. He continued to serve with distinction and was promoted to brigadier of infantry. He went on to achieve the rank of maréchal de camp (major general), grand bailli of Cassel, and finally lieutenant general. Unfortunately, he was killed in Catalonia in 1684.
[31] La Basse-Hestre is located approximately 1,300 meters southeast of the church of Fayt.
[32] 5 kilometers.
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