Shrinking back behind the carpets, Daniel turned sideways so that he presented less of a target for an intrusive bayonet. Protests in the square grew louder still as more soldiers joined in the search and elbowed people roughly aside. Daniel braced himself. Hearing orders being barked in German, he knew that Bavarian soldiers were leading the search. The tramp of feet and the guttural commands got closer and closer. Daniel picked out a snatch of conversation.
'He won't get far,' said one soldier.
'All the gates will have been closed by now,' said another.
'He's trapped in the city and everyone's looking for him.'
'We'll roast him alive when we catch him.'
'He can have my bayonet up his arse.'
At the moment he made the threat, the soldier thrust his bayonet into the stack of carpets and missed Daniel by less than an inch. Before the man could repeat the exercise, the carpet dealer rushed around in a panic from the front of the stall and begged him not to damage any more of his ware. When the soldier relented and moved on, Daniel dared to breathe properly again. Had it made contact, the bayonet would have ripped him apart and the dealer would never have been able to sell a carpet that was sliced open and soaked with blood. The hunt continued but it was slowly moving away from Daniel. For the time being at least, he was safe.
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
When news of the victory at Donauworth reached the Imperial capital, there was delight and celebration. Vienna toasted the success of the Confederate army and gave thanks to God for their deliverance from a menacing foe. The tidings were received with more muted enthusiasm in The Hague. While the States-General appreciated the significance of the victory, they were horrified by the high number of casualties in the battle and felt that the captain-general should have protected his troops more carefully instead of sacrificing them to enemy fire.
The Dutch, however, decided to mark the event by casting a victory medal. On the obverse side was an image of Louis, Margrave of Baden. A Latin inscription adorned the other side. In translation, it read: "The enemy defeated and put to flight and their camp plundered at Schellenberg near Donauworth." There was no reference whatsoever to the Duke of Marlborough, who had planned and achieved the signal victory. It was almost as if he had taken no part whatsoever in the engagement. The medal was a calculated insult to him.
Unaware of the snub that awaited him, Marlborough amused himself by reading out the letter sent to him by Leopold, Emperor of Austria. It was written in Leopold's own hand, an honour reserved only for an exceptional situation. When it had been translated, Adam Cardonnel was interested to hear the full text of the letter, filled, as it was, with an extravagance of expression totally at odds with the prosaic despatches from the Dutch.
'Illustrious, Sincerely Beloved,' Marlborough read. 'Your desert towards me, my house, and the common cause, are great and many, and the singular application, care and diligence, which you have expressed, in bringing up and hastening the powerful succours, which the most serene and potent Queen of Great Britain and the States-General of the United Netherlands, have sent me to the Danube, are not to be ranked in the last place; but nothing can be more glorious than what you have done, after the conjunction of your army with mine, in the most speedy and vigorous attack and forcing of the enemy's camp at Donawert, the second of this month; since my generals themselves, and ministers, declare that the success of that enterprise (which is more acceptable and advantageous to me, in the present time, than almost anything else that could befall me) is chiefly owing to your counsels, prudence and execution, and the wonderful bravery and constancy of the troops, who fought under your command. This will be an eternal trophy to your most serene Queen in Upper Germany, whither the victorious arms of the English nation have never penetrated since the memory of man.'
Though diverted by the flowery language, Marlborough was very touched. It proved that his arduous efforts had been given full recognition by someone. Cardonnel raised a mischievous eyebrow.
'Should we send a copy of the letter to The Hague?' he asked.
'They would denounce it as a forgery, Adam.'
'How would it be received in England?'
'Parliament would revile any praise of me.'
'You won a notable victory — what more do they want?'
'A miracle,' said Marlborough. 'Both Parliament and the States General want a battle in which the enemy suffers casualties while our troops survive miraculously without even soiling their uniforms.'
'They do not even give you credit for having come this far, Your Grace. To complete such a remarkable march and then to have such a triumph at the end of it, is an extraordinary achievement. It's a peal of bells that will ring down the centuries.'
'Now, now, Adam,' cautioned Marlborough. 'Let's not smile at the Emperor's exaggeration then indulge in some of our own. Instead of speculating about our place in history, we must simply look ahead a few days at the time. As for Emperor Leopold,' he added, 'instead of writing a letter, I would have much preferred him to send me the heavy guns that he promised. All I have from him is the mixed blessing of the Margrave of Baden.'
'Baden is wondering what our next move will be.'
'Ideally, I would either like to entice the Elector out of Augsburg so that we can fight another battle against his depleted forces. Or,' said Marlborough, 'I would like to persuade him that he should abandon his alliance with the French.'
'I foresee difficulties, Your Grace,' said Cardonnel with a frown. 'To achieve either objective, you'd need to lay waste to the Bavarian countryside. Only when he heard that his pretty towns and villages have been burnt to the ground, would the Elector be forced to fight or sue for peace.'
'On past experience, he may do neither.'
'His correspondence is markedly less hostile than it has been.'
'I fancy he is trying to woo us into the belief that he may join us,' said Marlborough, 'while still holding firmly to the French. If and when Tallard appears on the horizon, the Elector's letters may take on a different tone.'
'Tallard is still crossing the Black Forest mountains.'
'It's the second time this year he's done that, Adam. The scenery will begin to bore him. He came through the forest in May to deliver reinforcements to Marshal Marsin and the Elector. Tallard will be shocked to learn how many of those troops we killed.'
Their discussion was interrupted by a British lieutenant. After announcing his arrival, he was invited into the tent. Over his arm was a long red coat with the insignia of a captain on it. In his other hand, he carried a tricorn hat covered in dust. He exchanged greetings then held up the two items.
'I led a patrol earlier today, Your Grace,' he said, 'and we found these discarded on the plain.'
Marlborough winced. 'Did they belong to Captain Rawson?'
'I fear that they did.'
'Is there any blood on the coat?'
'None at all,' replied the lieutenant.
'Then there's still a faint hope.'
'Why should Captain Rawson have taken off his coat and hat?' asked Cardonnel. 'Were they left there as some sort of signal?'
'We may never know,' said Marlborough sadly. He took the coat and held it with almost reverential care. 'No man wore his uniform with more pride and gallantry than Daniel Rawson. If he is no longer alive — and we must accept that grim possibility — he leaves a gap in our army that will never be filled.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
Though the hunt had moved on from the market square, Daniel knew that he could not remain indefinitely in his hiding place. When the dealer finished trading for the day and loaded his carpets on to his wagon, he would find the fugitive and call for help. Sooner or later, Daniel had to get away. His problem was that he was too conspicuous and he could not always conceal himself in a crowd. Having lost his coat and hat by necessity, he was wearing a shirt, a waistcoat, a cravat, breeches and a pair of boots. The cravat was untied at once.
Now that he had a moment to inspect the flesh wound in his arm, he was able to bind it with the cravat and stop the blood trickling down his arm.
Daniel needed a disguise. The soldiers involved in the search were looking for a British officer bereft of his coat and hat. They would have been given a rough description of his appearance. It had to be changed. Behind the adjacent stall were some sacks that had been emptied of the fruit and vegetables they had contained. Making sure that nobody saw him, Daniel crept over to grab one of the sacks, tearing a hole in one end and in both sides so that he could slip it over his head and put his arms through. When he rolled up his sleeves, he had already transformed himself into a countryman in a smock.
His boots, however, were too expensive for any rustic to wear yet he could hardly abandon them. Picking up a second sack, he tore it into strips and tied them around his boots like cross-gartering. Since the sack had been filled with potatoes, it had a liberal supply of earth in it as well. Daniel used it to rub on his face and on the sleeves of his shirt. Having no cap, he retrieved a wooden box from the ground and hoisted it up on to his shoulder, thus obscuring the side of his face. He felt confident enough to put his disguise to the rest.
Stepping between the stalls, he joined the crowd in the square. By leaning forward, hunching his shoulders and adopting a limp, he looked very different from the tall, striking, virile Captain Rawson. One or two people tossed him a curious glance but nobody stopped to question him, still less to hail the search party. He was dismissed by those who noticed him as a slow-witted country bumpkin who had drifted into the city on market day like so many from the surrounding area. It was a long time since he had last eaten. To stave off hunger, he bought a hunk of bread then drank water from the chained iron cup beside the pump. He felt restored.
Daniel realised that his disguise had limited use. It might deceive the casual observer in a crowd but it would not pass the more searching scrutiny of the guards at the various gates. If he tried to walk past them, Daniel would probably be arrested, and none of the people returning to their farms would be taken in by him. Close to, they would recognise him as an impostor. His hands were strong but they had not been mottled and hardened by work on the land. While his face might be dirty, his hair was still too well-groomed and had no resemblance to the unkempt thatch of a labourer.
Making use of the crowds, Daniel took the opportunity to get his bearings, noting which road led to the main gate and which to the other gates that pierced the city wall. He passed a group of Bavarian soldiers at one point and they ignored him completely. Hours slipped by and the first shadows of evening began to creep across Augsburg. Vendors dismantled their stalls and loaded their unsold wares on to wagons and carts. The last customers started to leave the marketplace. Deprived of his cover, Daniel sneaked off down a foul- smelling alleyway, still carrying the box on his shoulder and avoiding the gaze of anyone who went by in the opposite direction. He felt more vulnerable now, worried that he might encounter a patrol and be stopped for questioning.
General Salignac would not abandon the search. As long as Daniel was in the city, he was in grave danger. Having no weapon, his disguise was his only means of defence. When he came to a corner where two donkeys were tethered, he sat against the wall beside them to consider his next move. The animals shielded him from the gaze of the occasional passerby and enabled him to have his first proper rest since the exertions of the duel. With light fading out of the sky, he turned his thoughts to Abigail Piper and to the two men who had abducted her. On her behalf, Daniel had been able to kill Frederic Seurel and he hoped that he would one day be in a position to dispose of Charles Catto as well. It was Catto who had kidnapped Abigail and kept her in a state of terror. Daniel wanted him dead.
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
General Armand Salignac was still shaking with fury. As he paced the floor of his quarters, he rid himself of a whole series of expletives before rounding on Charles Catto.
'Why did you let him get away like that?' he demanded.
'I was too busy helping my friend, General.'
'You should have gone after the rogue.'
'Frederic had been run through,' said Catto reasonably. 'I could hardly race off and leave him there in that condition. He and I have endured many misadventures these past couple of months. Captain Rawson has been an elusive quarry.'
'I want him caught and brought here!' roared Salignac.
'I'm sure that he will be — in time.'
'What's taking them so long?'
'Augsburg is a big place, General. It has lots of hiding places.'
'I want every one of them searched. I said from the start that we should have sent French soldiers after him. These mutton-headed Bavarians are as blind as bats.'
'They know the city,' Catto told him. 'Our soldiers do not. While we are waiting — and it will not be a long wait, God willing — you may wish to decide on a suitable death for Captain Rawson.'
'I'll have him hanged and left to rot.'
'Would you not prefer to take him on in a duel again? You are far superior as a swordsman and drew the first blood.'
'My wrist is still sore,' said the other, rubbing it gently with the other hand. 'When my sword hit that wall, it sprained my wrist and jolted my arm. Captain Rawson was very fortunate in that duel. He'll have no such luck next time.'
'I'm sorry that Frederic will not be there to see him die.'
'There's someone else I would like to have been present at his execution,' said Salignac, thinking of his wife.
'I kept a full reckoning of our expenses,' said Catto, taking some papers from his pocket. 'Is this a convenient time to give them to you?' 'No, it's not!'
'You told me to keep an accurate record, General Salignac.'
'What I told you to do was to kill Captain Rawson.'
'I felt that you would enjoy that more than either of us.'
'And I would have done,' said Salignac, 'had he not slipped through my fingers like that. On balance, it would have been better if you had obeyed the orders you were given.'
'Catching him alive was more difficult than killing him.'
'But you've not caught him,' said Salignac. 'The man is at large.'
'That was an accident, General.' He held up the papers. 'As for my reckoning…'
'Don't bother me with that now, Charles!'
'You promised to pay our expenses and give us a large reward.'
'The money has to be earned first. Until Captain Rawson has been captured and put to death, you'll get nothing. Put your papers away,' shouted Salignac, knocking them from his hand and sending them floating to the floor, 'and stop bothering me!'
Charles Catto controlled his indignation. 'I'll join the search,' he said and went swiftly out of the room.
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
While darkness made it easier for Daniel Rawson to hide, it also intensified the hunt. More people were involved in the search and the Bavarians had been joined by French soldiers. Carrying torches, they went down every road, street and alleyway, banging on doors, storming into taverns and respecting nobody's privacy. Even the brothels were invaded and inspected. It took all of Daniel's speed and agility to keep ahead of the pack. When he was not diving into dark corners or lying flat behind a water trough, he was taking evasive action of another kind. At one point, with soldiers approaching him from both ends of a street, his only means of escape was to climb up the side of a house and spread-eagle himself on the roof.
It turned out to be his salvation. When the soldiers had finally marched past and the acrid smell of their torches had been dissipated by the cool night air, Daniel was able to take a cautious look across the city. Blazing light told him that he was surrounded by search parties but they all seemed to be moving away from him. The street below was deserted. Before he could climb down, however, he heard the clatter of hooves and saw a rider coming out of the gloom. Daniel obeyed instinct. As the soldier arrived be
low him, he hurled himself down the roof and landed on the man's back, knocking him from the saddle and staying on top of him as they dropped to the ground.
The soldier was stunned by force of the impact. Though he tried to defend himself, he was no match for Daniel, who pinned him down and got both hands to his neck. Life was slowly squeezed out of the man and he went limp. It was only when he had throttled him that Daniel realised he had killed a French soldier. Of equal importance was the fact that he had just acquired a horse. Startled by the attack, the animal had been too well-trained to bolt and had simply trotted a little way along the street. Daniel soon retrieved it. When he had tethered the horse, he dragged the corpse into a lane and began to strip it of the uniform. He was glad to possess a sword once more.
He could have wished for a bigger man but he took what he had with gratitude. Shedding his own rough garb, he put on the coat, hat and breeches of a soldier in a French cavalry regiment, using the sacking to cover part of the dead body. As he mounted the horse, he realised how tight the uniform was on him but nobody would observe sartorial deficiencies in the dark. Anxious to be out of the city before the dead body was discovered, Daniel headed for the main gate. By the light of the torches, he saw to his relief that Bavarians were on guard duty. Talking his way past French soldiers, while wearing an ill-fitting uniform, might have posed more problems.
Digging in his heels, he cantered along the road to give a sense of urgency then drew the horse in a semi-circle as he came to a halt.
'Open the gates!' he said, speaking in German.
'Why?' asked one of the guards.
'I have despatches for Versailles and must leave post haste.'
'Show us your pass.'
'I'm acting on the authority of General Salignac,' said Daniel impatiently. 'If you insist on holding me up, you'll answer to him.' The guards hesitated. 'Very well,' he went on, turning his horse, 'I'll fetch the general in person and he'll have you all flogged.'
'Wait!' called the guard.
'You are obstructing a royal courier.'
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