Waterloo (Napoleonic Horseman Book 6)

by Griff Hosker

  He went to his desk and I was dismissed. Colonel Selkirk followed me out. “He doesn’t change does he, Robbie?”

  “No. He is a hard man to like.”

  “You don’t need to like him just follow his orders.”

  As I left I thought that the two of them were as similar as two peas in a pod but I was glad that they were on our side.

  We spent the week preparing for our journey. It was fortunate that it was not winter. I knew that we might have to sleep rough. We laid in a store of powder and ball. We each had four pistols and they had been the difference between life and death before now. The other thing we did was to rest. Once we left on our patrol we had no idea what might lie in store for us. We left Brussels on the fifteenth of April.

  As we headed south Alan asked, “Why did the Duke not send us out immediately?”

  “He knows how long it takes to gather an army. Bonaparte moves swiftly but even he needs to gather the supplies and the men he needs. I told the Duke that Bonaparte moves swiftly but he can only do so when he has everything to hand. I suspect his lordship worried that the longer we were out the more chance we had of running into trouble and being spotted. As he said we are the only spies he has at the moment. He does not wish to lose us... yet Having said that, I would be surprised if we saw much activity before the end of the month. Bonaparte has to start gathering his army and bring them north. He cannot do that swiftly.”

  “Will we stay at Julian’s?”

  “No, it is too far from the Charleroi to Mons road and besides I would not put their lives at risk. We will go to Mauberge. It is a big enough town to hide and yet we are close to the border.”

  We confirmed our story as we headed south. We had to know each other's minds. Talking in Italian we went over what we would say. The border guards would be more inquisitive and suspicious. This would not be easy.

  The flood of refugees had diminished but we were still viewed with suspicion as we went, like migrating salmon, upstream. It was only fifty miles but it took longer than it should have for there were now more guards at the border. My fluent French and credentials from my bankers were sufficient to get us into France. I suspected that our exit might prove to be a little harder than our entrance. They were stopping those with royalist sympathies from leaving. We would be closely scrutinised when we did escape.

  The allies had besieged the town of Mauberge the year before and we saw the evidence of the shelling. There were some damaged walls and buildings on the outskirts. The centre of the town itself look undamaged. That evening we ate in a small bar close to the main square. The inn keeper was happy to have businessmen who paid with coin rather than the military chits he would get from Napoleon and his officers. It was he who had directed us to the bar in which we drank. He assured us we would get good value for money. The fact that it was his brother’s bar was, apparently, coincidental.

  We struck gold the next day. A troop of Chasseurs arrived in the town. I was always wary of showing myself until I had seen the officers. It was many years since I had served and anyone who was still alive would have been promoted. We sat in our window seat and sipped our wine as we watched them clatter through. I breathed a sigh of relief when I did not recognise anyone. No one would recognise me. They set up camp at the northern end of the town. That was important as it meant they controlled the road. They were there to prepare for the advance. Mauberge was secure. When they set up their piquet on the road itself then I knew we had come to the right place.

  It was in the afternoon when we saw the two French spies. We recognised them as spies for they behaved as we did. They scanned faces and kept watch for danger. We were less obvious for we had the advantage that we had been in the town for longer. We looked to be part of the town. They rode from the south. They looked anxiously around them and looked for escape routes. Their identity was confirmed when they were allowed north after a cursory look at their papers by the horsemen at the barricade. Everyone else had been subjected to a rigorous interrogation. Fouché was an efficient spymaster. He provided his spies with documents. Colonel Selkirk left us to our own devices.

  “Mark their faces and their mounts, Alan. When they return we shall have to become better acquainted.” Our job was not just to gather news from the south but to stop information leaking south.

  We had told the owner of the inn that we were seeking business opportunities here in the north. We were suitably vague about our business and the time we would be staying. He did not seem suspicious so long as we paid him well and drank in his brother's bar. We left more wine than we purchased. A drunken spy was no use to anyone. Our search for business opportunities explained our twice daily rides to the area surrounding Mauberge. We saw much on our rides. The army was coming, admittedly they were in dribs and drabs but camps were springing up in the fields around the border town.

  We watched, over the next few days, the army as the soldiers began to gather. They came in battalions, regiments and batteries. The rest of the cavalry regiment arrived followed by a horse battery. The horse battery was unlimbered to cover the road north. Finally the infantry began to arrive. The road block was now more formidable. We found it almost impossible to go south for the road was thronged with columns of blue coated infantry. The cavalry used the fields in which to camp and the air was filled with the familiar smell of horses. I was happy that there were few cannon. Once the artillery arrived in numbers then it would herald an escalation. Even more important was the lack of Imperial Guard. Once I saw them then we would know that Bonaparte would be on his way. Due to the number of camps we had to restrict our rides and exploration to the east and to the west of the town. That stopped too when we saw light infantry battalions setting up camp.

  We developed a routine of walking to the northern edge of the town each afternoon. It allowed us to check on the barricade, observe the practice of the guards and to work out our escape route. While we would not be leaving by the road we would have to pass close to it. I did not want the 1st Chasseurs to become suspicious. We had enough information to take back to the Duke but there was little hurry. The French army was not arriving in numbers which suggested an attack was not imminent. It was just two divisions of infantry, a regiment of cavalry and a horse battery. It was not enough to invade.

  There was a small tobacconist at the edge of town and we visited the old man who owned the shop. Jean was almost seventy and had lived in the town his whole life. His sons had died following the eagles and his shop was all that he had. He was passionate about tobacco. As with all such purveyors of specialist goods he had his own unique mix of tobacco and once we got him chatting he became quite friendly. We talked, at first, of tobacco and what made a good pipe full. We both bought tobacco. We did not smoke it at the rate we bought it but it allowed us the opportunity to stand outside his shop and watch the soldiers. Later we learned about the town itself.

  After our first few visits we learned much, not only from him, but also the Chasseurs. The troop sergeant enjoyed a clay pipe too and would often join us to chat about inconsequential matters such as the weather, the crops, the wine; normal chat which disappeared like the smoke from our pipes. As with all such chats a good spy can discern a great deal of information. It was from the sergeant that we learned of the date of the consolidation of the army. It would begin the first week in May. He bemoaned the fact that the politicians had delayed the muster by their debate. As with all soldiers he had little time for politicians. They talked and they did not fight. We also learned that the Emperor was still in Paris. That was the most crucial information we gleaned. No one would attack until he arrived. We discovered that vast quantities of powder, shell and ball were being laid in and barns and warehouses were being commandeered. Bonaparte would be ready by early summer.

  During the last week of April we were chatting as usual when we heard gunfire. The sergeant ran back to the barricade and his men drew their carbines and musketoons. We saw two riders hurtling down the Mons road. Behind them I saw Dutc
h Hussars with their sabres drawn. The barricade was opened to allow the two riders through. I saw that it was the two spies. The Hussars and the Chasseurs exchanged musket balls and, with honours even, the Dutch retired after filling the road with thick acrid smoke.

  I nodded to Alan and we followed the two spies as they passed us. We shouted a cheery goodbye to Jean and the sergeant. The sergeant's wave back reassured the two spies that we were friends. They ignored us as they dismounted and led their horses down the street for their mounts were sweating and breathing heavily. The two men were no horsemen. They had ridden their horses almost to exhaustion. They stopped a few hundred yards down the road at a small inn. Taking their horses around the back was understandable. it allowed them to disguise their presence and leave discreetly.

  When they had disappeared from view I said to Alan. “Check their bags for any papers and maps. Make sure they cannot leave quickly.” He grinned and left. We had learned many tricks over the years to delay an enemy. I had spoken in Italian in case anyone was eavesdropping.

  I went into the bar which was smoky. It suited me. It hid me a little. The two men, who had entered from the rear entrance to the bar, bought a brandy each and downed it in one. They quickly ordered another. These men were not good at their job. A good spy drank when the job was finished not when he needed to calm his nerves. It slowed your reflexes. The Dutch horsemen must have come very close to catching them. I asked for a glass of beer, which I nursed while I studied them. Alan came in and shook his head. He walked to the bar and ordered a beer and stood well away from me. I covered the rear entrance and he the front.

  After two more brandies and a pipe full each the two spies paid their bill and left by the back door. I followed them. If they did not have the information in their saddlebags then it was either on their person or in their heads. I slipped my stiletto into my left hand and took out my pistol. I kept them both behind my body. I knew that Sharp would be heading out of the front door to cut off any escape and I merely had to gain their attention.

  I saw them approach their horses. I smiled as I shouted, cheerfully to them in French, “I saw your lucky escape from those Dutchmen! What on earth had you done?”

  They turned around quickly and they both had a short sword in their hands which they pointed threateningly at me.

  I feigned innocence and took a step back which invited them to move away from their horses and closer to me. “I am merely curious. I shall return to the bar. I do not need trouble.”

  They began to advance towards me just as Alan appeared around the corner from the street. The one at the back whipped around when he detected the movement and I took the opportunity of using my stiletto to knock aside the sword of the other man and club him on the side of the head with the butt of my pistol. The other spy waved his sword ineffectually at Sharp to keep him away and then ran to his horse. As he put his foot in the stirrup the whole saddle slipped around. Sharp had loosened it. The surprised Frenchman fell to the floor and Sharp moved to go around the other side of the horse. The Frenchman lunged at Sharp with his short sword. Although Alan parried it successfully he slipped on the slippery cobbled stones and fell. I saw the man raise his sword to finish off Sharp. I threw my stiletto and it plunged into his throat. It was a lucky throw but it was fatal. I hit his artery and he died in a widening pool of blood.

  “Search him, quickly.”

  I went to the man I had pistol whipped. We only had one to question now. As I turned him over I realised that I had hit him too hard and he was dead. Either that or he had hit his head when he struck the ground. Blood was coming from his ear. Either way their knowledge had died with them.

  I went through his pockets and found lists of regiments and a map. Alan had duplicates from the other. We had to work quickly. We grabbed the bodies, one by one, and hurled them into the stables. Covering them with hay would merely delay their discovery. They would be discovered and then we would be sought. However the delay would buy us some time. The time had come to leave France.

  We headed back to our inn and paid the bill. We explained that the presence of the Dutch horsemen had frightened us. The owner was disappointed but he understood our dilemma. He wished us a safe journey. Within ten minutes we were heading through the back streets of the border town. I had planned on leaving in the dark but the death of the spies had ended all chance of that. There were woods and fields to the east of the road and we headed there.

  Suddenly we heard a shout from our left. That was where the inn lay. The bodies had been discovered. We headed into the woods. They must have begun to search to the east of the stables quickly which meant it was the Chasseurs. They were mounted and could catch us quicker than the infantry. The sudden sound of a musket shot and its clatter as it rattled through the trees told us that we had been seen. We spurred our horses on through the thinly planted trees. Had the two mounts not been ones we had purchased in Antibes I might have chanced jumping the fences but that was too great a risk. We had to continue through the woods until we found a way to get to the road.

  As we came out of the woods I saw six troopers galloping across a field towards us. I led Alan diagonally to the road in the distance. It would bring us closer to the six Chasseurs but we would make better time on the road. Another consideration was the Dutch cavalry. I hoped that they would be resting just the other side of the border. If they were there then we only had to reach them and we would be safe. It was a gamble. Such are the decisions you have to make when your life is in danger.

  I drew a pistol as I galloped. At range it was worse than useless but I knew that they would, inevitably, draw closer to us.

  “Keep going Alan!”

  I dropped back a little. Looking over my shoulder I saw that they were just thirty yards behind us. I was taking a risk. I wanted them to fire their pistols and waste the ball. They would not be able to reload while riding and I did not think that they would have two pistols. I heard three cracks as the leading riders all fired at me. I felt nothing and knew that they had missed both me and my horse. In firing they had also lost ground and their fellows were now bunching up behind them. They were just twenty yards behind me. I kicked hard as I turned around. I did not want my horse to slow up. I fired beneath my arm. I did not aim at anyone I just fired at the six of them. I wanted them to think that I, too, had used my only ball. I holstered my pistol and urged my horse on.

  My shot had gained us yards as the horsemen ducked and took evasive action but the Chasseurs had superior horses. They would begin to gain again. The only advantages we had was that ours were better fed and the Chasseurs were bunching up in the narrow lane. As we burst out on the road I felt the wind of a pistol ball as another of them fired his pistol. I did not look around. My next move would need timing. I saw a crossroads ahead. “Alan, go right and then turn around and attack them! Let’s end this here.”

  I saw him raise his hand in acknowledgement. I drew a second pistol. I watched as Alan went right at the crossroads. I veered left. I knew it would confuse the Chasseurs for an instant. We both turned together and, as the surprised Chasseurs came within twenty feet of us fired our first pistols almost simultaneously. I drew a second and fired as did Alan. The crossroads was now wreathed in smoke. Holstering one pistol I drew my last pistol and fired into the smoke.

  I did not allow the Chasseurs to gain any composure. I drew my Austrian sword and galloped into the smoke. I saw that there was only one left in his saddle and unwounded. Some of the others had been wounded while rearing horses had unseated at least one rider. I slashed down at him before he could react. My sword sliced down his cheek and he tumbled from his horse. Grabbing his reins I led the Chasseur's horse from the fray. I heard Sharp’s pistol as he fired his last gun into the smoke and we headed north.

  We did not stop until we were north of the border close to Mons. The horses needed a rest and so did we. We reloaded our pistols but it was unnecessary. The road behind was clear. Our sudden attack had taken the Chasseurs by surp
rise. If we had been dressed as soldiers then it might have been different. I was not certain how many we had killed but their saddles had all been empty when we had left.

  Chapter 5

  We reached Brussels and the Rue Royal on May Day. The Dutch Hussars must have disappeared for we did not find them. Colonel Selkirk was keen for our intelligence. He scribbled notes as we gave him our reports and then grabbed the maps and lists we had taken. “Well done, gentlemen. I’ll take these to the Duke. Report here in the morning when he has had time to digest them. I knew that Bonaparte might have spies in the town but this is worse than I thought. You did well to eliminate that threat.”

  "Yes, Colonel, but how many others are there? And how many are infiltrating the Belgian ranks?" His frown told me that he had not thought of that and he hurried along to the Duke's quarters with the news.

  We had paid for our rooms for a month and I was glad for the hotel was heaving. In the short time we had been away the city had filled with new arrivals. The army was here. I saw officers' wives begging for rooms. I had never understood the need to take a wife or woman on campaign. It was no place for a man let alone a woman. Many followed their men wherever they went. Had we wished to we could have sold our rooms for three times their value. These were the officers' wives. I knew that those who followed the privates would be sleeping in fields and wherever they could find shelter. I still remembered the horror of dead women and babies on the retreat to Corunna. I wondered how the baby I had found all those years ago had fared. I know he made it back to England but the woman I had given him to had been the wife of a soldier. He could be here now.