‘Thank you,’ said Berwick, stiffly.
‘You secured a crucial victory at Almanza last year and followed it up by taking Lerida. I’ve heard it said that you saved the Bourbon dynasty in Spain.’
‘That’s an exaggeration.’
‘In effect, you kept King Philip on the throne there and deserve plaudits for that.’ His face was split by a wicked grin. ‘I’m tempted to say you need make no such effort to save another of the king’s grandsons but that would be too unkind. Now that his shortcomings have been exposed, the Duke of Burgundy may come to his senses.’
Berwick grew impatient. ‘I’m here to discuss your plans.’
‘My immediate plans involve presenting a true account of the battle of Oudenarde to King Louis. I’ve already sent some despatches but my version of events – as you will imagine – has been questioned by the duke. Clarification is sought in Versailles.’
‘You cannot waste time talking about a battle that’s over when more fighting is at hand,’ said Berwick, irritably. ‘When we first arrived, I’d hoped to pose a threat to the flank and rear of Marlborough’s army, but Prince Eugene reached Brussels with his troops and was able to provide cover. Their interest has now shifted to Lille.’
‘It must not be allowed to fall,’ said Vendôme, seriously. ‘That would be a real calamity.’
‘The Duke of Boufflers is to oversee its defence.’
‘But what sort of force can he muster? Our army is desperately short of men. We lack the numbers to cover every eventuality.’
‘Marlborough cannot take Lille without a siege train. Our main task must be to stop it reaching him.’
‘It will not be transported by water, that’s for certain. As long as we’re camped here, we control the rivers and canals. That means it will go by land. A siege train of the requisite size will be several miles long.’
‘That will stretch their resources to the limit,’ said Berwick. ‘Marlborough will not be able to protect it adequately. If we intercept it, we may stop it ever reaching its destination.’
‘If we intercept it,’ argued Vendôme, ‘we must do more than simply stop it. We must capture as many cannon as we can. Our artillery was gravely depleted at Oudenarde.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I leave you to guess whose fault that was. My ambition, I tell you now, is to make amends for the fatal errors made by the Duke of Burgundy.’
‘France looks to us for a victory. We are in sore need of one.’
‘I held Marlborough at bay in Flanders last year and you beat the Allied forces at Almanza. Between us, we have more than enough skill and experience to match the enemy.’
‘But not in a pitched battle, I fear,’ said Berwick.
‘There are other ways to win wars. I would dearly love to accept surrender from Marlborough,’ said Vendôme through gritted teeth, ‘and there’s another delight I’d seek. I’d like to ride back to Paris with the head of a certain Captain Daniel Rawson on a pole.’
Daniel handed over the dagger so that his friend could inspect it.
‘It’s magnificent!’ said Jonathan Ainley.
‘Apparently, it belonged to a French major.’
‘He must have been blessed with wealth. A weapon like this must have cost a high price. I envy you, Daniel.’
‘It was a present from an admirer.’
‘Then he must admire you a great deal.’
‘The admirer was a lady,’ said Daniel, ‘and she used the dagger to kill the man who owned it.’ Ainley gulped. ‘I make her sound more bloodthirsty than she really is. She found the major dying after the battle of Oudenarde and took exception to the fact that he tried to stab her.’ Taking the dagger back, he sheathed it. ‘His loss was my gain. However, I came here to cross swords with you, not to talk about daggers. Are you ready, Jonathan?’
‘Yes,’ said Ainley, ‘I’m ready for my ritual humiliation.’
The lieutenant was a tall, spindly, pallid man with a beaky nose that attracted all manner of unflattering nicknames. Known for his affability, he was an efficient and dedicated officer who sought to emulate Daniel Rawson, a man he’d elevated to the status of a god. Swordplay was a vital part of their armoury and they both sought to keep their skills in good repair. While he was an able fencer, Ainley lacked Daniel’s strength and flair. The longer any bout went on, the more decisively it swung in the captain’s favour. Drawing his sword, Ainley prepared himself for defeat.
‘You’re far too quick and dexterous for me, Daniel.’
‘The advantage may be yours this time.’
‘Why?’ asked Ainley with a hollow laugh. ‘Are you going to fight with that dagger instead?’
‘I’m not that foolhardy,’ said Daniel. ‘No, Jonathan, I’m going to hold the sword in my left hand.’
‘You’ll still be too good for me.’
‘It’s important to maintain my proficiency with both hands. If my right arm is wounded, I need to be able to defend myself.’
‘Then do so now,’ invited Ainley, brandishing his sword.
But the practice ended before it had even begun. A messenger arrived to summon Daniel to the captain-general’s quarters and the sword fight had to be abandoned. Daniel shrugged his shoulders.
‘I’m sorry about this, Jonathan,’ he said.
‘Don’t be – I’m sighing with relief.’
‘I’ll be back at the earliest opportunity.’
Ainley sheathed his sword. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
As the lieutenant waved his friend off, Daniel followed the messenger on a twisting course through the ranks of tents until he came to Marlborough’s quarters. When they came into sight, he recalled what the Dutch dragoon had said about him on the ride through Flanders. Someone in command of a vast coalition force might be expected to maintain palatial quarters, but that was not the case with Marlborough. It was left to people like Prince Eugene to occupy stately accommodation that proclaimed their importance and set them apart from the soldiers they led. Daniel chose to believe that the relative simplicity of Marlborough’s quarters could be put down to the fact that he didn’t wish to distance himself from those around him. Indeed, he sought to keep in touch as much with the ranks as with his officers, frequently touring the camp and engaging in conversation with the humblest privates. It had earned him the affectionate name of ‘Corporal John’. Few commanders in any army were revered as much by their troops.
When he was admitted, Daniel found the captain-general talking to his secretary. Both gave him a cordial welcome. Offered a glass of wine, Daniel took it gratefully and sat down with the others.
‘We have work for you,’ said Marlborough.
‘I had a feeling that you might have, Your Grace.’
‘How much do you know about Lille?’
‘I know that it’s the best fortified town in French Flanders,’ said Daniel. ‘They call it Vauban’s masterpiece because he devised the most ingenious series of defences. He tried to make it invincible.’
‘No town is invincible if it is besieged correctly,’ said Cardonnel. ‘Look at the career of Richard the Lionheart.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Marlborough. ‘He was a master of siege warfare. They said that Taillebourg was impregnable yet it fell to him, as did other strongholds. Though it took all of two years, the siege of Acre in the Holy Land was another triumph.’
‘The strange paradox,’ Daniel pointed out, ‘is that a king who excelled in siege tactics should himself die during one. He expired from a crossbow wound while besieging a castle near Limoges.’
‘I see that you know your history, Daniel.’
‘I also like to feel that we’ve made some progress since the time of the Lionheart. Siege trains are vastly more effective now.’
‘If one can be brought here intact,’ said Marlborough. ‘However, that’s another problem. The one that confronts us now is that we can see the fortifications around Lille without quite understanding their exact design. To be more exact, we’d like to see them from inside the town as well as from
outside.’
‘Ideally,’ said Cardonnel, ‘we want Vauban’s original plan. It must be somewhere inside Lille. Someone has to find it.’
‘Finding it will be difficult enough,’ said Daniel, warily, ‘but we can’t expect them to oblige us by handing it over. Besides, it must be forty years since Vauban built the defences and the arsenal there. Later additions will have been made. You will surely want details of those as well.’
‘We want everything you can get us, Daniel,’ said Marlborough, ‘including information about their troop numbers and how they intend to repel our attacks. It’s going to be the most difficult siege we’ve ever undertaken. Lille already has natural protection from those unhealthy marshes around the Rivers Deûle and Marque. On three sides out of four, it’s within striking distance of the French-held towns of Ypres, Tournai, Douai and Béthune, all of which could send operational support. We are in for an epic struggle.’
‘That’s nothing new, Your Grace,’ said Cardonnel, waspishly. ‘You have an epic struggle every time you hold a council of war.’ The three of them laughed. ‘The assignment may not be as intimidating as it might seem at first glance, Daniel.’
‘No,’ said Marlborough, taking over. ‘Lille has not yet closed its gates for good, and it will be weeks before the peripheral lines of circumvallation are constructed. If you have a plausible reason for getting in, the French will not stop you, and our soldiers will not prevent you from getting out alive.’
Daniel grinned. ‘That’s reassuring to know.’
‘We’ll provide you with any forged documents you require.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace.’
‘All you have to decide is how you intend to proceed.’
‘I think I’ll start by drinking this,’ said Daniel, taking a long sip of wine. ‘I need fortifying just as much as Lille.’
‘You managed to get into the Bastille,’ remembered Cardonnel. ‘Gaining access to a town should be far less taxing.’
‘That’s not my concern. Tracking down the information you want is the real test. Is there nobody inside Lille who could help?’
‘Yes,’ said Marlborough. ‘His name is Guillaume Lizier. He runs a tavern there and will give you food and shelter. Adam will tell you how to find him.’ Daniel lapsed into a reverie. It was a full minute before Marlborough interrupted him. ‘I can see that you’re already wondering in what guise to enter the town. Will it be as Marcel Daron, the wine merchant? That role has served you well in the past, and who is more likely to seek out a tavern keeper than a wine merchant? Are you to become Marcel Daron once more?’
A slow smile spread across Daniel’s face. ‘Who knows?’ he said as an image began to form in his mind. ‘When do I have to leave?’
‘Go in your own time,’ said Marlborough.
‘Then I’ll wait a day or two, Your Grace. And I’ll not be travelling as a wine merchant this time. I fancy that another occupation will serve me better.’ He finished his drink and stood up. ‘I’ll be grateful for those details about Monsieur Lizier.’
‘I have them right here,’ said Cardonnel, handing him a piece of paper. ‘Commit everything to memory then burn it.’
‘I will.’
Daniel glanced at the name and the address, wondering how a mere tavern keeper would be able to assist him in such a testing assignment. On the other hand, he’d taken on harder tasks without help from anyone. That gave him confidence, and the notion that he might somehow be able to gain an advantage for the besieging army brought out his sense of duty. The more he considered it, the more he began to look forward to the adventure.
He was about to take his leave when Marlborough picked up a letter that lay on the table amid a pile of documents. He unfolded it.
‘This came today from my wife,’ he said, ‘and contains news that may be of interest to you, Daniel. It seems that Emanuel Janssen and his beautiful daughter are to sail to England. They’ve been invited to view progress on the building of Blenheim Palace. Janssen’s tapestry of Ramillies will hang there one day.’
Daniel needed a few seconds to assimilate the news. He was sad that Amalia would be moving further away from him but his sadness was tempered by the thought of how much she would relish the visit. He rejoiced in her good fortune, hoping that some time in the country where he’d been brought up would give her a better understanding of him. His only regret was that he would not be there to act as her guide. When he imagined how she must have reacted to the invitation, he had to suppress a chuckle. Back in Amsterdam, inside the house he’d been to little more than a week ago, Amalia Janssen would be caught up in a positive whirl of anticipatory delight.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Amalia, but it’s impossible. I just couldn’t go.’
‘But you must, Beatrix. Your passage is booked.’
‘Take one of the other servants.’
‘You’re far more than a servant to me,’ said Amalia, ‘and you know it. I couldn’t conceive of going all that way without you.’
‘My mind is made up. I’ll not stir from here.’
‘But a great honour has been bestowed on us.’
‘On you, perhaps,’ said Beatrix, ‘but not on me.’
‘We’ll have the privilege of meeting a duchess and seeing one of the grandest houses in the whole of England. Well,’ Amalia corrected herself, ‘what there is of it, anyway.’
‘Tell me all about it when you get back.’
‘Don’t be so stubborn, you’re coming with us.’
‘I can’t, I won’t, I mustn’t. Please don’t keep on at me.’
‘At least tell me why you’re so afraid to go.’
‘You’ll only laugh at me, if I do, Miss Amalia.’
‘That’s ridiculous. I never mock you. Now – what is it, Beatrix?’
Beatrix Udderzook was a plump, flabby-faced woman in her thirties, with a look of solid reliability that belied her nervousness. She was both maidservant and best friend to Amalia, sharing the joys and disappointments of many years with her. Though there was no great distance between their ages, Beatrix also acted as surrogate mother, guarding and guiding Amalia through life. The maidservant had still not forgiven herself for allowing Amalia to be abducted right under her nose. Beatrix was still tortured by guilt over the incident.
‘I had a dream last night,’ she said, fearfully.
‘There’s nothing unusual in that.’
‘I dreamt that I was about to drown in the sea.’
‘We all have dreams like that,’ said Amalia.
‘This was so real, Miss Amalia,’ said Beatrix. ‘In fact, I don’t think it was a dream at all. It was a premonition. That’s why I daren’t leave dry land.’
‘And were you the only person to drown?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about the rest of us?’
‘I don’t understand what you mean.’
‘Well,’ said Amalia, teasingly, ‘if you are to drown when you sail to England, so are the rest of us. The only way you could perish is if the ship went down with all its crew and passengers. Yet I didn’t have a premonition that that would happen and nor did Father, as far as I know. Neither did anyone else who’ll be boarding that vessel or none of them would dare to go to sea.’ She took Beatrix by the shoulders. ‘It was just a silly dream, that’s all.’
Beatrix trembled. ‘It scared me so much.’
‘I’m often frightened by bad dreams. Then I wake up and realise that I haven’t been harmed in any way so I dismiss them as nightmares.’ She kissed the maidservant on the cheek. ‘I need you to come with us, Beatrix. Don’t you want to see England? Don’t you want to be able to boast to the others that you met the Duchess of Marlborough?’
‘Yes, I do,’ conceded Beatrix.
‘Who will look after me if you’re not there?’
‘The master will do that.’
‘Father will be too busy to act as my chaperone all the time. I need the company of a woman. Oh,’ said Amalia, earnestly, ‘please tell me you
’ll come with us.’
Beatrix was undecided. Torn between duty to Amalia and fear of the consequences, she chewed her lip and pondered. For her part, Amalia was deeply upset at the idea of travelling without her. None of the other servants had endured as many hardships with her as Beatrix, and none deserved to enjoy the privilege now being offered. Since the invitation had arrived, Amalia had been transported with delight. She always moved about the house with the grace of a dancer but now she seemed to be floating on air. She’d blithely assumed that Beatrix would be as thrilled as she and her father. Instead, the maidservant was refusing to step aboard a ship.
‘That’s it, then,’ said Amalia, changing tack. ‘I’ll tell Father that we must decline the invitation. It will upset the duchess but that can’t be helped. She, of course, will inform her husband of our decision and the duke will surely pass on the news to Captain Rawson.’ She shook her head in mock desolation. ‘He’ll be very hurt by the tidings. He made me promise that, if ever I went to England, I should visit the farm where he was brought up. That is now out of the question, for we’ll never get a second invitation. Father must write today,’ she added, as if about to leave. ‘He must explain that it’s impossible for any of us to go because one of the servants had a bad dream.’
‘That would be terrible,’ wailed Beatrix, close to tears. ‘It’s an honour for you and your father. You must go, Miss Amalia. I can’t spoil your visit. It would be on my conscience for the rest of my life.’
‘And supposing we drown while you sit safely here?’
‘What a dreadful thought!’
‘It’s one that would never enter my head because I have more faith in our sailors than you. We’re a trading nation, Beatrix. Ships come and go every day without sinking. The Dutch are amongst the finest mariners in the world.’
‘I know that.’
‘Then put your trust in them. It’s summer, the best possible time to go on a voyage. There’s nothing whatsoever to stop us arriving safely in England.’
‘What about sailing back?’
Amalia laughed. ‘You’re determined to drown one way or another, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘But it’s simply not going to happen. Don’t take my word for it. Go down to the harbour and talk to the sailors. They’ll reassure you. Or sail up and down the canal a few times to get over your fears.’
4 Under Siege Page 4
