Late in the
afternoon he saw a party of the staff officers pressing towards the
rear on foot.
"We are going to try to get to the head of the column," one said to
Rupert. "We must force back the Spaniards, or we are all lost."
"I will join you," Rupert said, leaping from his horse.
"Hugh, give me my pistols and take your own; leave the horses, and
come with me."
It took upwards of an hour to make their way along the dyke,
sometimes pushing forward between the soldiers, sometimes wading in
the ditch, but at last they reached the spot where, over ground
high heaped with dead, the battle raged as fiercely as ever. With a
shout of encouragement to the men the party of officers threw
themselves in front and joined in the fray. Desperate as the
fighting had been before, it increased in intensity now. The Dutch,
cheered by the leading of their officers, pressed forward with
renewed energy. The Spaniards fought desperately, nor indeed could
they have retreated, from the crowd of their comrades behind. The
struggle was desperate; bayonet clashed against bayonet, heavy
muskets descended with a showering thud on head and shoulders,
swords flashed, men locked together struggled for life. Those who
fell were trampled to death, and often those in front were so
jammed by the pressure, that their arms were useless, and they
could do nought but grasp at each other's throats, until a blow or
a bayonet thrust from behind robbed one or other of his adversary.
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