Soldier Spy (The Napoleonic Horseman Book 4)

by Griff Hosker

  The guards at the gate were not suspicious for we were heading further into the Austrian Empire; we were not fleeing and our story about trying to reach our destination in daylight made perfect sense. As soon as the road dipped out of sight of the gate we headed across country towards the fields and woods to the north of the city. It was risky riding across unknown country in the dark but we were both good riders and it was worth the risk. We rode hard until dawn. I kept making adjustments so that we gradually turned west. The snow on the ground would mark our passage but the snow filled skies promised more to hide our tracks. If we had a day then we would be able to lose our pursuers.

  When we saw the road just beyond the eaves of the trees we halted. I wanted the horses to have a little rest. We ate some of our food and then changed mounts so that we were riding fresh horses. It made all the difference and they cantered happily down the road, the snow muffling the sound of their hooves.

  On our return journey west we skirted all the major towns to avoid the military. We stayed in small inns and farmhouses but we spent the daylight hours, and some of the night riding ever westwards. We changed horses twice a day but, even so, they were sorry shadows of the horses they had been. I particularly wanted to avoid Munich. I almost had a permanent crick in my neck as I constantly peered over my shoulder looking for pursuit. The weather aided us for a blizzard blew up and only a lunatic would have ventured out in such weather. We were two such lunatics and we passed that dangerous hive of military activity without incident.

  We passed Augsburg and Ulm in the night. We were too close to home to risk being caught. Our last accommodation was a small inn just twenty miles from Strasbourg. The room was so small that it only had one bed and the stables were less than adequate. But it was a bed and we were tired. The inn keeper and his wife made up for the shortfall by giving us one of the best meals we had eaten on our long journey. We left after dawn and I intended to reach the border just before dark to give us the best chance to slip across. I hoped that my papers would see us through without difficulty but I would take no chances.

  We were close to the path we had taken in the forest when our luck ran out. The melting snow muffled the noise of the Austrian cavalry who thundered after us. Had our horses not whinnied we would not have known they were there. I turned to see Captain Stollen and a troop of Hussars hurtling towards us. I put my head down and kicked hard towards the forest. On the road they would easily catch us. Our only chance was the forest. We were fortunate that we had recently changed horses and so, as we entered the forest, I shouted to Sharp. “Let go of the spare horses. It will slow them down.”

  It hurt me to let such find steeds go. They had served us well but if we kept them we would be captured and they would have the same fate. The Austrians look after their horses and I was sure that they would be cared for. Miraculously the loose horses bought us time. Both beasts slowed down and the Hussars suddenly found their path blocked. The trees encroaching on both sides prevented them from passing the two mounts and they had to stop. We had bought some precious minutes. With luck our mounts would be fresher than theirs. The sun was dipping in the sky and that, added to the canopy of trees, made our journey darker. It suited us. We only had our swords as weapons. Our pistols were in our bags. Had we had access to them I might have risked slowing down to ambush Stollen and his men. The lack of pistols meant we would have to rely on our horses and hope that they did not come to grief.

  Sharp kept glancing over his shoulder to see where the Hussars were. “I think we have a lead sir. I can’t see them on the straight parts.”

  “Good! We might just make it.”

  Perhaps I was tempting fate but, as we approached the place where we had killed the pickets there was a crack from a prematurely fired musket. This was no time for hesitation and I drew my sword, lay low over the saddle and kicked towards the smoke. The surprised Dragoon looked up in horror as my sword sliced down and split his skull. My horse knocked over a second and I heard a scream as Sergeant Sharp killed a third. More muskets fired from left and right but we were moving too fast and I heard the leaves shredded by their passage. They had increased their pickets. I wondered how many more would be ahead of us.

  My horse began to slow and, as I put my hand down to pat him, it came away red. He had been struck. As much as I hated to do it I would have to ride him until he fell; it was our only chance of survival. “Sharp, my horse is wounded. Overtake me.” I glanced behind and saw him shake his head. “That is an order, Sergeant!”

  He spurred his horse on and he led the way. I looked under my arm and saw that the Hussars were less than forty yards behind me in the fading light of dusk. Had we been a hundred yards ahead we might have made it but they would catch us before we reached the border. It is a strange thing but when you have no hope life becomes simpler. We just had to ride until they caught us and then fight until we died. It was that easy.

  I risked another look and saw that they were less than three horse lengths behind us. “Come on boy. Another few yards and…”

  I got no further as the foliage on both sides of the path erupted in the smoke from fifteen muskets. The noise was so loud that I was deafened. My horse slowed and I turned in the saddle. The Austrians were beating a hasty retreat leaving bodies on the trail. The old sergeant who had shared his drink with us stepped out. “You made it then?”

  He handed me a bottle of brandy and I swallowed down a mouthful, “So it would appear.”

  He pointed to the dead Hussars and Dragoons. “They have increased their pickets since you crossed over. You certainly stirred a hornet’s nest.”

  I asked, “Any more brandy?”

  He gave me a strange glance as he poured some more into my beaker. “You don’t look like a drinker.”

  “I’m not but my horse is wounded. I want to clean the wound.”

  Luckily the bullet had only grazed my mount. He would survive. We left the sergeant and his men to harvest the bodies of the Austrians while he sent one trooper to escort us to Strasbourg.

  Chapter 6

  We headed directly for Bessières’ headquarters. From the lack of cavalry around I assumed that Bonaparte was elsewhere. The sergeant who had been our guard recognised us and reluctantly admitted us. Bessières, as usual, was hard at work. He looked surprised to see us.

  “You are back sooner than I expected. Did you complete your task?”

  In answer I took out the map and the sheet with the markings on it. “Here are the numbers of men, horses, guns and forts.”

  He slapped the desk and began to laugh, “You have done it again Robbie. How do you do it?” He waved his hand, “It matters not. Now these are the numbers but…” He stood, “I forget myself, “Sergeant, bring in some coffee for us and some croissants.” As the sergeant turned to go he snapped, “Fresh ones!”

  Sitting down he picked up his pen, “So, you will give me the minutiae which is in your head.”

  We spent the next hour detailing all that we had seen. Sharp added information when I was unclear. I did not mention Von Clausewitz; just that we evaded capture.

  The breakfast had arrived and I gratefully devoured it. “You have done well and proved your loyalty. We now need to get you back to England so that you can continue this work.” He reached into his desk and handed me a bag of coins. “Some gold Louis; you will need expenses.” He smiled, “You have already earned this and, when we have conquered England, you will have estates and houses. The Emperor will not forget his loyal friends.” He went to the map on the wall. “Now, as for getting you back.” He drew a line with his finger around the Atlantic coasts of France and Spain. “There are no ships which come to these ports and go to England. “ His finger continued until it came to Copenhagen. “The Danes are still neutral. You will have to travel there and obtain passage on a boat to England.”

  I looked at the map. The journey would be about the same as the one we had already taken but there seemed to be few options available. “Very well.”
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  “I will have a carriage made available and the papers necessary to facilitate your journey.” He sipped his coffee. “Good. Now how will you send your information to us?”

  The colonel and I had discussed this already. “You say there are no ships travelling from England to France but there are ships, as you say, which go to neutral ports like Copenhagen, Oslo, Stockholm and to Italy. I have connections with Italy and that, although the longer route would seem to be the best option. It may be possible for an Italian ship to deliver packages to either Corunna or Cadiz.” I could see that he was following the logic of the plan we had concocted and he nodded. “I will use the ports of Naples, Corunna and Cadiz for my packages. I will address them to you. All you would need to do would be to arrange for someone in each of the ports to deliver the package here.”

  “That could be arranged but we will need a code.” He handed me a copy of Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare. When I opened it I saw that it was in English. He smiled at my reaction. “We thought it might be better than giving you a book in French. The code is quite simple. It is a substitution code. You go through each page in turn. One page for one message. Just to make it clear you will need to write the number of the page on the letter somewhere. You underline the alphabet and then use the next letter for your message. It will be difficult at first but you will get used to it. Here,” he handed me a pen and some paper. “Try it. Write ‘the army will sail in May.’”

  It took me longer than I expected and I handed over the completed paper with trepidation. He smiled, “Good, you have understood the concept. It will come easier the next time. We both have identical copies. You will use the same page for the first message.” He looked down at my family ring, the seal of the Macgregors. “As an added precaution if you would seal it with your ring then I know it has not been tampered with.” He leaned back.

  “Is that it?” It all seemed far too simple to me. I had expected something more complicated.

  He smiled contentedly, “Of course. You have done well. Now, rest for the remainder of the day.” He waved his arm in the general direction of the stairs. “There is a room up there for you. Tomorrow you will leave for Copenhagen.” He stood and shook my hand, “Welcome back to the service of France, Robbie.”

  As I was putting the book in my leather satchel he went to the map. I had not noticed it before. It was of Italy.

  “You say your sponsor is at Gibraltar at the moment?”

  “There were plans to send him there,” I added vaguely.

  “Good, if you hear anything about Italy, Sicily or the Iberian Peninsula when you speak with him then we need to know urgently.”

  I suddenly took a closer interest in the map. I saw Masséna’s name and below it the names and numbers of regiments. I recognised the 9th Chasseurs. I saw an arrow leading to Naples. “I thought the Emperor had finished with Italy?”

  “Italy yes, but the King of Naples and Sicily appears to harbour ideas about allying with Britain. Do not worry Robbie your old friend André will be more than a match for those overdressed peacocks. One regiment of cavalry and a battery of guns will soon bring them to their senses. So you see why we need knowledge of British intentions?”

  “Of course. And Iberia; I thought Spain was an ally.”

  “She is but the British have an ally in Portugal and that gives them a foothold there. So far they have shown little interest in Iberia apart from their garrison on the rock but… Anyway you will need rest. Good luck, my friend and take care. Do not get caught for the Emperor can do nothing for you.”

  That was nothing new. Our job had always been to take risks on the Emperor’s behalf.

  As Sergeant Sharp and I went upstairs the thought came to me that for all their Republican and egalitarian ideas, Sharp was always ignored because he was considered a servant. Nothing changed in France; just the man wielding the whip and now it was Bonaparte. France had exchanged one master for another.

  Bessières had provided not only a carriage but a guard too. We were given papers which identified me as a diplomat travelling in the service of the new Emperor. The guard and driver had been provided with the funds for our accommodation and we had an easy time as we headed north. Sharp and I spent much of the daylight hours practising with the code. We travelled quickly through France for we had requisitions for spare horses. Once we had left the Batavian Republic and entered Denmark the journey was a little slower. Our guides were glad when they could deposit us at the quay in Copenhagen. They would be able to enjoy a leisurely ride back to France. I suspected they had not spent all of the money allocated to them as our accommodation and food had been basic at best. I did not mind. We had made quicker time than I had anticipated.

  We took rooms close to the port so that I could arrange our passage. Unfortunately there appeared to be few English ships in port and the rest of the ships were avoiding England like the plague. The Emperor had let it be known that he disapproved of trade with his enemy and those on the Continent were in imminent danger of invasion should they transgress. I managed to find us a berth on a ship expected in the next couple of days from Newcastle. Sergeant Sharp was disappointed but I told him that we would easily be able to travel from there to London.

  We spent the next two days exploring the town and the port. Nelson had upset the Danes some years earlier when he had burned their fleet to prevent it falling into French hands. Had we spoken English we would have received some cold looks and harsh treatment. The attack still rankled.

  We travelled on the ‘Bluebell’; she was a Newcastle collier and the captain knew Geordie. Most people in Newcastle knew the irascible captain. It made the journey both pleasant and informative. The garrulous Captain Dunston happily chatted about the way the war had improved his livelihood. The British fleet could not get enough of the Baltic wood for their masts and spars and they, in turn happily, consumed the Newcastle coal. It was ironic that Napoleon’s plan to isolate Britain had, in fact, made many of its citizens richer.

  “I think Geordie will be in port when we get home. He was on his way back from London. He’s doing well, mind. He and Betty have the finest furniture you can buy in Newcastle.”

  I smiled. Geordie’s wife was always house-proud, quite literally. Geordie did not care what the house looked like but he cared what his wife thought and that was important. The captain would not take a penny from us. He was doing a fellow Briton a service was his view and that should be done without recompense. The men of the north were always fiercely loyal and patriotic. I had met the men of the Royal Scots Greys and they were a wild bunch. If the foot regiments were half as good then Napoleon had better watch out.

  The ‘Witch’ was in harbour when we arrived and the Third Mate directed us to Geordie’s house. As soon as the door was opened I knew that we would be treated like royalty. Betty squealed with delight and Geordie came running from the parlour with pipe in hand ready to deal with whatever problem had frightened his wife.

  She wagged a finger at him, “Put your eyes back in their sockets man! I’m not in any danger. It’s Robbie, come for a visit.”

  I hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, “I hope we won’t be inconveniencing you.”

  Geordie slapped me on the back. “Why no, you daft bugger and who is your friend?”

  “This is Sergeant Sharp, from my regiment.”

  Geordie held out a ham like hand, “Pleased to meet you bonny lad. Any friend of Robbie’s is welcome here.” Without waiting for a reply we were whisked into the parlour.

  Betty appeared with a jug of ale and three glasses. “Now you lads enjoy that while I nip down to the shop for a bit of something for tea.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself on our account.”

  I saw the warning look in Geordie’s eyes but it was too late. She had heard. “And it is no trouble to feed some friends. I thought you knew that! We aren’t Londoners here. We give guests a good welcome!”

  The northern folk were deeply suspicious of all those who lived d
own south and I saw the shocked look on Sharp’s face. Geordie and I just laughed as she left the room like a typhoon.

  “Now then what brings you here? Not that you aren’t welcome any time.”

  “We were in Copenhagen and the only ship we could get was bound for Newcastle. I thought we might get a boat down south to London from here.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be bound there at the end of the week you are more than welcome to travel with me.” He raised his glass, “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  “And what were you doing in Copenhagen I wonder?” He grinned and held up his hand, “Don’t tell me because it will probably be a lie and we don’t lie to friends. I suspect it was something to do with that fellow from London, Selkirk.” He shook his head, “You want to watch yourself Robbie. You are no cat and you dinna have nine lives!”

  It was a delightful three days we spent with Geordie. We were treated like guests in a fine hotel and I could see the effect it had on Alan. He felt part of a family. He had gone from being the loner, isolated and unhappy to a confident soldier who now had real friends.

  The weather was changing as we headed south to London. It was now late February and the cold had abated marginally. Perhaps it was the fact that we were not in the heart of landlocked Austria that made the difference but we both felt happier as we headed south towards London and Colonel Selkirk.

  Colonel Selkirk never seemed to leave his office. We always found him there. He was delighted with all of our news. The code book particularly intrigued him. We spent a whole day being debriefed and working out what I would say in my first report.

  “You go back to your regiment and I will work on something. I’ll pop down and see you and we will encode it and send it off.” He rubbed his hands in delight. “For once we have the edge over Bonaparte.” He clapped me on the back. “That information about Masséna and Italy and Iberia is priceless. Well done!”