‘On the right is a strong showing of Hottentot infantry supported by additional Jagers and on the far right is where much of their cavalry are assembled.’
Kydd could now make out the differing uniforms and standards distinguishing parts of the array facing them but how all these could come together as a whole was beyond him. Then he saw in the exact centre a disciplined mass of blue – and the tricolour proudly aloft.
‘And the French,’ he said.
‘Ah, yes,’ the officer came back drolly.
Baird lowered his glass. ‘Well, they seem to be awaiting us, so I shan’t disappoint them.’
He let his glance rest on the scene for one last moment. ‘I shall attack in two columns as planned,’ he rapped. ‘The Second Brigade will follow the base of the Blaauwberg massif to storm the lesser mount – Kleinberg. The First Brigade will march to the front. I will have the howitzers in play from the start.’
A two-pronged attack at a prepared army – but occupying the high ground to the right, above the Dutch, was a strong move.
Baird leaned over and took a wooden contraption from an aide, which turned out to be an ingenious desk that fitted over his horse’s neck. He began scratching orders at great speed, handing them down impatiently. Each in turn was snatched by a dispatch rider, who put them in his sabretache and sped off in a wild thud of hoofs.
Their own cannon – such as they were – must now be brought forward. The howitzers with their explosive shells were small but could create dismay among the enemy ranks beyond their size. Kydd gave a grim smile at the irony that the first shots of the battle would be fired by sailors. The Sea Battalion had hauled their bronze beasts under the hot glare of the sun to the front of the British lines and were now deployed to either side of the centre. Knowing they were under the eye of the entire army, they were serving their guns with energy and skill.
The first shell landed not far from the front rank of the enemy, its orange flash and instant gout of white smoke followed by a distinct
To the right the pipers opened with a squeal and a drone, and the brigade stepped off in a compact column, as regular a march as ever to be seen on their home parade-ground. The howitzers fired again – but this time there was a reply from a troop of unseen guns located on the very high ground of Kleinberg they had intended as their own.
‘First Brigade, advance!’ Baird snapped. The sooner they closed with the enemy the better – if they could survive the guns. Behind, the pipers skirled into life and the column began to move up to crest the ridge. Passing on both sides of the general they marched towards the enemy.
The battle had begun.
MacDonald’s brigade, to the right, had increased their pace, knowing the vital necessity of silencing the guns on Kleinberg, and Kydd needed no telling that throwing infantry against guns would be a deathly affair.
More enemy guns opened up – from the centre, the focus of the attack by the First Brigade. These Highlanders must in consequence advance through the hell of cannon fire before ever getting within range of their own muskets.
It was a trial for Kydd to act the spectator while others went into danger, but it was his duty.
Now at the base of Blaauwberg the Second Brigade, still in close order against cavalry attack, would be an easy target for enemy guns but they marched on under the blazing sun.
Kydd tore his gaze away and watched the other column stolidly moving forward. Now the guns were telling: a ball reached the Highlanders, its passage marked by wheeling bodies and gaps in the ranks. Another – it couldn’t last!
A series of puffs showed on the flanks of Kleinberg. ‘Jagers,’ the officer watching with him said, with concern. A rifled weapon wielded with skill could always out-range a standard musket, even if the rate of fire was slower. These sharpshooters must have been set to defend the guns and were doing so: some lonely figures on the line of march lay sprawled and still.
‘Damn it – where’s those cannon?’ Baird demanded irascibly, twisting in his saddle.
At that moment the Sea Battalion came over the rise, the sailors near prostrate in the savage heat from the muscle-burning effort of heaving the iron brutes through the soft sand. Yet they hauled on valiantly, trying to keep with the fast-marching troops. One gun, two – four six-pounders were now in the field.
Matters were now critical. The guns on Kleinberg were easily reaching the advancing brigade and gaps were being torn in the close mass of men; at some point the column must halt and form line to face the main enemy – and then the cavalry massing on Kleinberg’s slopes could charge down on them.
Heroically, the exhausted seamen pressed on, and when the order was given for the column to halt and form line they man-hauled through to the front and, exposed as they were, manoeuvred their pieces around and set up to return fire.
Now the enemy would be suffering cannon fire and must make some response – but would the Dutch cavalry dare a charge across open ground?
The line was formed. Baird was going to make a frontal assault on the mass of the enemy, guns, cavalry and all, trusting in the spirit of the Highlanders to see it through to the end.
The pipers wailed into life and the line stepped forward at a measured pace, directly for the waiting Dutch. It was bravery of the highest order to keep discipline and formation while at any moment from the massed ranks opposite there would be a sudden crash of musketry, and death would sleet in to meet them.
The officers’ decisions made now would have consequences over so many: to fire when in range, then helplessly endure the enemy’s response while reloading, or accept the punishment of a first volley and vengefully take the time for a pitiless rejoinder?
Men were going down in numbers, the guns at the enemy centre firing grapeshot, and there on the flank, high up on Kleinberg, the cannon were taking victims. Everything now depended on the bravery of the Scots regiments up there in closing with the foe.
‘I say, that’s as damn well done as ever I’ve seen!’ The officer handed Kydd his glass and gestured at
