5 A Very Murdering Battle

by Edward Marston

  Almost immediately, it seemed, he was awake again, roused by the sound of horses below in the courtyard. Out of his bed in a flash, he opened the shutters far enough to be able to look out. Six riders could be seen in murky silhouette. When he heard an order being barked, Daniel knew that they were soldiers. While five of them dismounted and walked around to the main entrance, the remaining man stood guard at the rear door. Daniel didn’t need to alert Rachel this time. She’d heard the clatter of hooves and identified the newcomers as a threat. After tapping on Daniel’s door, she let herself in. Like him, she’d slept in her clothing so it was only a matter of seconds before she was ready to leave. Daniel put on his hat and pulled his cloak around his shoulders then they went quickly down the backstairs.

  The man on guard had stepped under the eaves to get some protection from the rain. His back was to the wall of the inn. Inching open the rear door, Daniel saw where the soldier was standing. He whispered to Rachel, then eased the door gently open so that she could creep out and scurry across to the stables. When the man saw a figure dashing past in the gloom, he tried to go in pursuit but Daniel intercepted him. Grabbing him by the collar, he swung him so hard against the wall that he opened a gash in the soldier’s head. Too dazed to know what was happening, the man put up no resistance when Daniel thrust a dagger through his heart. Letting him fall to the ground, he swiftly undid the girth on each of the six horses so that he could remove their saddles. He then untethered the animals.

  Rachel, meanwhile, had collected their horses from the stable. They’d been left saddled and ready for a hasty departure. Mounting one, she led the other into the courtyard by the rein. Daniel was quickly in the saddle. Inside the inn, five soldiers were engaged in a frantic search. He reasoned that they had to have been sent from Mons to capture them. The old priest had clearly reported their deception and set retribution in motion. The only way to outrun the soldiers was to slow them down. Taking out his pistol, he fired it into the air, stampeding the other six horses and sending them galloping off into the night. Shutters were flung open in the upstairs rooms and angry faces peered out. The sergeant yelled to the man he’d left below in the courtyard but got no reply. He and the other soldiers ran down the backstairs and emerged into the rain. Six saddles and a corpse lay on the ground. By the time that the soldiers realised what had happened, Daniel and Rachel were riding hell for leather along the road to Tournai and sending up clods of mud in their wake.

  Thanks to good medical attention, Kees Dopff was slowly recovering from his fever but had to convalesce for some time. His illness had two benefits for Nicholaes Geel. Since it was he who’d carried Dopff up to his room, he’d earned Amalia’s warmest thanks and received some of the routine praise that had earlier been monopolised by Aelbert Pienaar. It gave Geel a surge of pride. The second benefit was that he had an excuse to visit the invalid. Arriving early for work that morning, he asked his employer if he might go and see Dopff. He was duly given permission and went trotting off. As Geel was going up the staircase, Amalia came out of her room and began to descend the steps. She gave him a cheery greeting.

  ‘Are you going up to Kees?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, Miss Amalia. I just want to see how he’s getting on.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Nick.’

  ‘He’s much more than someone I work beside. He’s a good friend.’

  ‘I think you’ll find that he’s over the worst.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Geel.

  He stood aside so that she could walk past him, savouring the brush of her shoulder as he did so. Walking along the landing, he went up the second flight of stairs. When he got to the room on the top floor, however, he was less interested in Dopff’s condition than in the brief exchange he’d had with Amalia. Dopff was clearly grateful for the visit and explained, by means of an elaborate mime, that he felt much better and expected to return to work very soon. Wanting further excuses to visit him, Geel tried to persuade him that he needed a longer time to recover. Though the fever had broken, it had left Dopff weakened. As he left the room, Geel was still thinking about Amalia’s kind words to him. A dangerous idea stirred at the back of his mind. In order to get back down to the ground floor, he would go right past her bedchamber. Nobody else was about. There was nothing to stop him peeping inside it. The idea took root and grew. What began as a faint temptation soon flowered into an irresistible urge. It was too good an opportunity to miss.

  When he got back down to the landing, he looked around to make sure that nobody could see him then he opened the door and stepped inside the room. Simply being in the privacy of her bedchamber was a thrill for him and he stood there in silent ecstasy as his eyes took in every wonderful detail. He could sense her presence and inhale her fragrance. There was something at once sacred and exciting about the place. It was a holy of holies that encouraged libidinous thoughts, a reverence tinged with arousal. On impulse he walked across to the bed and picked up a pillow, holding it against his face to feel its softness. It was minutes before he remembered where he was. Giving the pillow a farewell kiss, he replaced it and hurried to the door, opening it enough to be able to peep out and see that the coast was clear. A minute later he was back at his loom again. His secret smile lasted the whole day.

  When Daniel finally arrived back to deliver his report, he discovered that Tournai was on the verge of surrender. Conditions inside the citadel had deteriorated and Allied assaults were becoming more intense as they pressed home their advantage. The siege had lasted over two months and spilt large quantities of blood on both sides. Now that the end was in sight, Marlborough called a council of war to discuss the next move. Daniel was there to report his findings and to display the rough sketches of Mons that he’d drawn. He gave an estimate of the time it would take to move the bulk of the army there and warned that it might be held up by the well-defended outpost of St-Ghislain on the River Haine. He also passed on information about French troop movements forced out of one of the deserters. Daniel was congratulated on the detail of his report then the debate began. Marlborough outlined his plan of action.

  ‘I believe that we should move swiftly to invest Mons,’ he declared, looking around the table at each man in turn. ‘We should also heed Captain Rawson’s warning about the resistance we may meet at St-Ghislain. I therefore propose that I immediately dispatch a strong force of horse and foot under the command of Lord Orkney.’ He indicated the map. ‘They can march past Mortagne to mask the fortress of St-Ghislain in order to clear the way to Mons. At the same time, of course, they will provide protection on the flanks for our main army as it moves forward.’

  ‘What is the French expectation?’ asked Prince Eugene.

  ‘Villars will fear an attack on Ypres much more than one on Mons. His attention will be fixed on the north-west whereas our target is in the south-east.’

  ‘Can we surprise him?’

  ‘We can if we move quickly enough.’

  ‘That will mean setting off on a night march.’

  ‘It’s a tactic we’ve used before to great effect,’ said Marlborough.

  Most of those present agreed with the captain-general’s plan but there were those who felt that Ypres should be invested first. One bold Dutch commander even advocated a frontal assault on the French lines. They examined the alternatives at length before coming back to the original plan. Mons would be their next objective.

  Daniel always felt privileged to be there when major decisions were taken. It allowed him to see Marlborough at his most imposing. During the debate, the captain-general had cogently presented his own case, yet listened with respect to those who argued for other targets to be selected. Now that the assembled generals had departed, he was left alone with Daniel and Cardonnel. In front of them, he was able to show his weariness, removing his periwig and putting a hand to his aching head.

  After all the effort he’d made to reach Mons, Daniel was grateful that the information he’d gathered would be put to good
use. Even though his visit to the town had necessarily been brief, he’d seen enough to estimate its degree of readiness against a siege. And his comments on St-Ghislain had been valued. It meant that he’d be able to tell Rachel that their escapades had not been in vain. They would soon be travelling on a road that held unforgettable memories for them.

  If only to have some relief from the onus of command, Marlborough asked for more detail of Daniel’s journey to and from the town, chuckling at some of the adventures described and highly amused at the notion of Rachel Rees in the uniform of the French army.

  ‘I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the lady,’ he said, smiling, ‘and I wouldn’t have thought she was an entirely appropriate companion for a Catholic priest. She’s altogether too feminine and worldly.’

  ‘You underestimate her skill as an actress, Your Grace,’ said Daniel.

  ‘Evidently, I do. But I admire her courage in assisting you.’

  ‘Now that the danger is past, I rather think that Rachel enjoyed the trip.’

  ‘She’s obviously an asset to us,’ noted Cardonnel. ‘At your side, she’s got inside the enemy fortresses of Lille and Mons. Where will the pair of you go next?’

  ‘That remains to be seen,’ said Daniel. He turned to Marlborough. ‘I gather that much has happened during our absence.’

  ‘Indeed it has,’ replied Marlborough. ‘We’ve been battering Tournai until it shook at its very foundations. Deserters tell us of intolerable privations within the citadel. They can’t keep us out for long.’

  ‘So I’ll be on my way back to Mons within a matter of days.’

  ‘That would be a reasonable assumption.’

  ‘Let’s hope that a second siege will not drag on as long as this one, Your Grace,’ said Daniel. ‘When he’s made aware of your movements, Marshal Villars might even be provoked to battle.’

  ‘He needs no provocation,’ said Cardonnel. ‘He’s already chafing at the bit.’

  ‘Yes,’ added Marlborough, ‘and, according to the latest report, he’s been joined by no less a person than Marshal Boufflers, the man who held us at bay at Lille for almost five months. Boufflers will be a wise counsellor to have at his shoulder. I have the utmost respect for him. It will be good to lock horns with Boufflers again.’

  Though he spoke with confidence, he didn’t look as if he was physically capable of leading an army into action. His eyes were lifeless, his cheeks hollowed and his normally upright frame now formed an arch. Once again, Daniel was worried about the captain-general’s health and state of mind. The continuous pressures of command were leaving deep footprints. He was about to withdraw from the quarters so that Marlborough could rest when a messenger arrived. Opening the note he was handed, the captain-general needed only a second to read it. He immediately reached for his periwig and placed it back on his head. Breathing in deeply, he drew himself up and straightened his shoulders. He exuded power and authority.

  ‘The chamade has just been beaten,’ he announced, grandly. ‘Come with me, gentlemen. I am about to accept the surrender of the citadel. Tournai is ours.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The siege of Tournai was over. While their captain-general was presenting the articles of capitulation for the governor’s signature, the Allied army enjoyed a temporary lull in activity. They were able to rest, lick their wounds, trade their woes, remember fallen comrades and take some comfort from the fact that the town was finally in their hands. Henry Welbeck celebrated the victory by having his hair cut. He sat on a stool outside his tent while the one-legged Joel Drew clicked away with his scissors.

  ‘This siege almost ruined me,’ complained Drew.

  ‘Why is that, Joel?’

  ‘Nobody wants a haircut when they’re fighting every day. The only customer whose hair I trimmed in the past month was my dog – and he didn’t pay a penny.’

  ‘We were too busy being barbered by the French,’ said Welbeck, sourly. ‘That shot of theirs could take off your head as well as your hair.’

  ‘I’m glad it’s all over.’

  ‘There’ll be more to come. As one siege ends, another begins.’

  Drew gave a philosophical shrug. ‘It was ever thus.’

  ‘It’s not like you to be downhearted, Joel. Even when our soldiers are being killed at your feet, you usually keep your spirits up somehow.’

  ‘I do,’ said the other with a grin. ‘It’s because I know that we’ll always win in the end. I’m proud to be part of this army, if only as a regimental barber. I help to keep you all looking well groomed and appearance is important when you wear a British uniform. Ah,’ he went on, looking up, ‘we seem to have company.’

  Rachel Rees was walking towards them. Welbeck ducked behind Drew.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, hide me,’ he pleaded. ‘Don’t let her see me.’

  ‘It’s too late, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Stay in front of me.’

  Drew did as he was told but to no avail. Rachel had picked the sergeant out from a distance of fifty yards. She was not going to be baulked. When the barber tried to conceal his customer, she simply shoved Drew aside with a firm hand.

  ‘Hello, Henry,’ she said, jovially. ‘I hope that this haircut is for my benefit. It takes years off you.’

  ‘That’s what I told him,’ said Drew, pleased with the compliment.

  ‘He looks like a stripling.’

  ‘Well, I feel like an old man after that siege,’ said Welbeck, mordantly. ‘So I’ll be grateful if you’ll give me some time to recover. I can only do that alone. I don’t need visitors.’

  ‘I think that’s exactly what you need,’ she argued. ‘You need your friends to remind you that you’re a flesh-and-blood human being and not just a soldier. You’re a real man.’

  ‘I can’t contradict that,’ said Drew, chortling. ‘I’ve seen him with his shirt off. The sergeant is about as manly as you can be.’

  Rachel moved in closer. ‘Have you spoken with Daniel yet?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Welbeck. ‘He told me about your antics on the way to Mons.’

  ‘Weren’t you impressed?’

  ‘No – I’m used to daring deeds from Captain Rawson.’

  ‘I’m not talking about him,’ she said, prodding him playfully. ‘I’m talking about myself. What did you think when you heard what I went through?’

  Welbeck scowled. ‘I was just grateful that you were far away from here.’

  ‘That’s not a kind thing to say to a lady,’ chided Drew.

  ‘Keep out of this, Joel.’

  ‘And what was that about Captain Rawson?’

  ‘My haircut is finished,’ said Welbeck irritably, rising from his stool and pressing some coins into Drew’s hand. ‘Thank you and farewell.’

  Drew winked at Rachel. ‘I think I’m in the way,’ he confided. ‘I just wish that Henry would make up his mind. One minute, he wants to hide behind me. Next minute, he’s sending me away.’

  He hobbled off to find another customer, leaving Welbeck to glower at Rachel. She responded with a radiant smile. He felt slightly chastened. Though he’d never admit it to her, he’d been struck by her bravery in travelling with Daniel through territory bristling with enemy patrols. Welbeck had seen clear evidence of her pluck before but had been unable to acknowledge it on the grounds that it might encourage her. All that he wanted at that moment was to be alone. Before he could dive into his tent, however, he saw someone else striding towards him. Leo Curry was grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Who says that miracles never happen?’ he asked with a guffaw. ‘Henry Welbeck is seen with a beautiful woman at long last.’

  ‘I’m not with anybody,’ retorted Welbeck.

  Rachel laughed. ‘He always pretends to dislike me,’ she said, ‘but I know when I set a man’s heart fluttering.’

  ‘You’re certainly doing that to me,’ said Curry, ogling her. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, Henry?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Welbeck, seeing a c
hance to get rid of an unwanted visitor. ‘This is Rachel Rees, one of the sutlers. And this,’ he went on, indicating the sergeant, ‘is Leo Curry, the ugliest man in Christendom.’

  ‘Oh, my first husband was a lot uglier,’ said Rachel, looking at Curry with approval. ‘But Will Baggott was very handsome on the inside. He had so many good qualities, you see. Are you handsome on the inside, Sergeant Curry?’

  Curry beamed. ‘You’ll find none more handsome, Rachel.’

  ‘I judge a man by character and not by appearance.’

  ‘Then why are you bothering with someone like Henry? His character is a disgrace and his appearance frightens the horses.’

  ‘Listen to him!’ said Welbeck with indignation.

  ‘I’ve always liked the sound of a Welsh lilt,’ said Curry, sliding a brawny arm around her waist and easing her away. ‘Tell me about yourself, Rachel. Why is it that I haven’t seen you in camp before?’

  Welbeck was livid. Though he’d wanted to get rid of Rachel, he’d been hurt by the readiness with which she’d gone off with Curry. The other sergeant had been too familiar with her but she was in no way offended. Indeed, she seemed to welcome his interest in her. As he looked after them, Welbeck could see that they were chatting amiably and that Curry’s arm remained around her waist. While he felt anger and resentment at what had just happened, it was another emotion that was uppermost in his breast and its sheer novelty made him gasp.

  Henry Welbeck had experienced the pangs of jealousy.

  When a town was taken, it had to be held. Marlborough therefore had to leave a sizeable garrison there to secure Tournai and to rebuild its defences. The existing garrison in the citadel was allowed to go to France on parole to await the formal exchange with the Allied garrison of Warneton, captured earlier by the French. In releasing his prisoners, Marlborough was thus able to gain additional troops, though they’d take no part in hostilities in the immediate future. As agreed at the council of war, Lord Orkney led a substantial force of cavalry and infantry to the walls of St-Ghislain, where it met such stubborn resistance that it was held up longer than anticipated. As a result of the delay, the main army had to make a diversion and march instead through Sirault. Prince Frederick of Hesse-Cassel was charged with protecting them. Fearing an attack by French cavalry at any moment, his troops waded across the River Haine with their eyes peeled. Fortunately, intervention never came and they were able to press on to Mons to assist in the siege.