As the morning wore on, the sound of cannon fire rumbled across the snow-covered landscape from the west. Shortly before noon the headquarters staff had joined the first units waiting on the track, a bedraggled line of scarecrows wrapped in rags, waiting for their orders with weary apathy. It was hard to believe these were the same men who had faced down the hussars at Ondrecht, and covered the retreat of the army from Boxtel. Now they must be ready to fight again. But even as he looked at them Arthur knew there was little fight left in them. All they wanted to do was survive.Yet he had his orders to prepare to attack the enemy flank. The last of the outlying companies trudged up and took up their position in the line stretching along the road and then the brigade was ready to move forward. A brigade in name only, Arthur reflected as he shivered inside his greatcoat. The cold penetrated right through his body so that there was no vestige of warmth anywhere and gradually the tightness about his chest eased as the trembling stopped and only the ache of the cold remained. Still there was no message from the general, no decision to call off the attack, and Arthur decided that he would have to go through with it. However foolish and pointless the order to attack might be, it was still an order and he was bound to obey it. He cleared his throat and gave the order.
'The brigade will advance! Light companies move to the front!'
The orders were relayed down the line, sounding curiously flat in the still, freezing air. The men of the light companies tramped forward and dispersed in a screen a hundred paces ahead of the main body, where the sergeants and officers dressed the lines and then took up their own positions to await the order to move. When all was ready Arthur took one last look over the brigade, his first and, more than likely, last command. In a few hours most of them would be lying dead, stiffening in the snow.
'Sir!' Fitzroy called out. 'Horseman approaching from the north.'
Arthur turned, looked and instantly saw the dark fleck approaching the brigade. A reprieve, he wondered? As the rider approached he held off giving the order to advance and the men stood in silence, staring blankly ahead. The horseman galloped down the rear of the line, kicking up spouts of powder snow, and then reined in as he approached the colonel and his colour party. It was the same messenger as before and he offered a quick salute before blurting out his message.
'Your brigade is to pull back-'
'Make your report properly, sir!' Arthur snapped back.
The ensign raised his eyebrows in surprise, before he took control of his excitement, drew a deep breath, and started again. 'The general sends his compliments, sir. He requests that the brigade withdraws to the north. The army is making best speed for Amsterdam.'
'That's better.' Arthur nodded. 'It is vital that you behave like an officer at all times.The men will look to you over the coming days.You must not be found wanting. Understand?'
'Yes, sir.'
'I take it that the French are striking out for Amsterdam as well.'
'Yes, sir.They have sent infantry on ahead while the cavalry are harassing our column.'
'How long ago did the French set off?'
'As soon as they crossed the river, sir.'
'Good God. They must have half a day's start on us.'
The ensign nodded.
'Then we'll march at once. Good day to you… and good luck.'
'And to you, sir.'
Then he wheeled his horse round and rode off back in the direction of Amsterdam. As soon as the light companies had been recalled the brigade formed into a marching column and set off in the same direction, tramping along in the snow until, from a distance, they looked like little more than a straggling centipede.
The retreat across the Gelderland almost destroyed the army. Racked by hunger and sickness, they marched mile after mile on frozen feet. A few miles to the west the columns of the French Army were also striking out towards the coast, and every man in both armies was desperate to the win the race. The prize for the French was not only victory in the field, but the chance to destroy the British Army so utterly that Britain would no longer have the stomach to continue the war. Without the subsidies from British coffers, the Austrians and Prussians would no longer be able to afford to fight. The prize for the bone-weary British troops was merely survival and the prospect of many more years of war to come.With such a disparity in the stakes it was inevitable that the French would win. A few days after the retreat from the Waal had begun Arthur received news that the French had entered Amsterdam on 20 January, adding to their laurels by capturing the Dutch fleet, encased in ice on the Texel.
The order came to change direction. Cut off from the ports, the army was forced north, towards the Ysel. The last of the rations had been eaten days before and every morning Arthur's heart grew heavier as the strength returns of his brigade steadily shrank.
The injured gave in first, collapsing into pitiful heaps by the side of the icy tracks, waiting until the cold claimed them. The marching route was easy to follow, lined as it was with discarded equipment and bodies of men and animals. Hunks of meat had been hacked off the latter by the men passing by, and eaten raw. Arthur's horse shared the same fate on the fourth evening, when its strength finally gave out. He himself shot the animal through the forehead and gave the body up to his men for butchering. As he watched them tear at the carcass Arthur had never imagined such suffering was possible, such a collapse of the civilised values he had taken for granted.
As the brigade approached the Ysel late one afternoon, the sound of firing came from ahead. Arthur halted the column and went forward with Fitzroy. A quarter of a mile down the track a bitter skirmish was being fought out between men from a Guards regiment and Hessian mercenaries, over the contents of an overturned bread wagon that had been discovered just off the road. The two officers watched in horror as the men who had fought beneath the same flag now hacked and stabbed at each other with the fury and desperation of wild animals.When Arthur could take no more he pulled his friend's sleeve.
'Come. We'll have to find a way round this, if our men aren't to become involved.'
Fitzroy did not answer, and when Arthur turned to him he saw that the captain was staring at a bundle of rags in the ditch at the side of the road. Fitzroy's eyes glistened. Arthur let go of his arm and slowly approached the rags, and saw them for what they really were. A young woman, little more than a girl, lay huddled in a ball. Her bodice was unlaced and her bare breast gleamed white as the snow about her. Clasped to her breast was a small bundle, a baby, and on its blue lips gleamed the frozen milk drawn from its mother. Arthur felt a wave of sickness and hopelessness sweep through him. If there was a hell, then this was it. He tore his gaze from the dead girl and her infant and taking Fitzroy by the arm, he walked slowly back to join his men.
Early in March the remnants of the army stood on the quayside in Bremen, under the silent and hostile gaze of the inhabitants of the port. All sense of a common bond in the war against France had fallen away and the former allies now blamed each other for their failures on the battlefield. As Arthur inspected the tattered survivors of his brigade he saw that many of them were broken men, who would be little use to Britain in the years to come. They would return to their homes in the country or the city slums and eke out their lives in the shadow of this terrible experience. But there were others, strong men, who drew themselves up and refused to bow to the suffering that they had endured. As Arthur looked on them, he was grateful that his country could produce such soldiers. For Britain would surely need them in the years to come. At that thought he looked at them again, with pity this time.There was so much more that they would have to endure before their nation eventually prevailed. And when it was all over, and peace returned to the world, how few of them would be left to see that day?