Soldier Spy (The Napoleonic Horseman Book 4)

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Soldier Spy (The Napoleonic Horseman Book 4) Page 10

by Griff Hosker


  “You did not need to do that.”

  “I know but it is my choice and Cesar is quite happy about my decision. Your connections have increased our wealth anyway. I want my Scottish family to benefit too.”

  We spent a couple of hours chatting. It was good to catch up. I told him of some of my adventures. I knew that he could keep them a secret. He did not seem at all surprised. He just kept smiling and chuckling at some of the incidents I described. I realised we had been there too long and then I had to take my leave. It would not do for Sir John to arrive at camp and find me and the men gone. The looks on the men’s faces showed that they had been royally looked after. Even dour Sergeant Grant had a happy face.

  As we rode back James said, “What lovely people sir. They made us feel like family. The men were quite touched. And the food…”

  “I know James. Different from what we are used to but good for you.”

  That night the camp was a happy relaxed place although the return to rations did not please the men and I resolved to source some local ingredients. Salted pork in a hot climate was a recipe for disaster. It would be better in the long run to eat the food which was grown locally.

  It was at noon the next day when my problems began. The men were just finishing digging their latrine when one of Sir John Stuart’s staff arrived. He had the arrogant look of someone who had had a commission purchased and then found the easiest billet he could. He was barely civil to me.

  “Sir John asks that you present yourself as soon as possible to his headquarters.”

  I waited and then snapped, “Sir.”

  His eyes widened and he gulped, “Sir.”

  “Good at least you have recognised my rank. Let us move on. Do you assume I am a mind reader?”

  “No sir.” he looked confused and I noticed the grins on James’ and my sergeants’ faces as they watched his discomfort. We were in undress but he was in full uniform and baking in the noon day sun.

  “Then would you care to tell me where the headquarters is? Or perhaps I should wander over the island and hope that I manage to trip over it.”

  He had obviously not thought things through and I dreaded to think what he would be like in combat. “Er, I could wait for you sir, and take you there.”

  I smiled but there was no warmth in the smile. “That is dashed civil of you, sir.”

  I did not offer him any refreshment. I thought that half an hour in the hot Sicilian sun might make him reflect on his manners. “James, best bib and tucker.”

  “Sir.”

  “Sarn’t Grant, take charge and keep them busy.” I lowered my voice, “I think our freedom is about to be curtailed.”

  He shook his head sadly, “I know sir and me and the lads were just getting used to this little billet.”

  As we rode along the quiet country road, the Sicilians had sensibly decided to stay indoors whilst the sun blazed down, Jackson and I remained silent as we followed the young aide. I could sense his frustration as he rode before us. He had arrived full of arrogance and his bubble had been burst. He now had two officers following him and no one likes that.

  The huge camp was outside of Messina on the western side. Sir Charles had been quite correct; it was unsuitable for horses. The small area of ground which could have been used for grazing was taken up by the twenty four horses of the horse artillery. I assumed that Sir John and the other officers would have had horses and it would have been impossibly cramped to force another hundred or so mounts there. The smell from the horse lines and the badly dug latrines assaulted our noses when we were half a mile away. It was no wonder that the commander had left the camp, even for a short while.

  We reined in next to a command tent. The young lieutenant handed his reins to the guard and scurried inside. James and I dismounted but held on to our reins as we took in the camp. It was well organised and it was neat but I would not have chosen it for my base. There was no shade at all and you learned, in this part of the world, to grab whatever shade you could.

  When the lieutenant emerged he had regained his composure and had a smug smile upon his face. “Sir John will see you now captain. Er Lieutenant, just the captain.”

  I hated games like this but I kept my stoic expression and handed Badger’s reins to James. “Could you find some water and some shade for Badger eh?” I lowered my voice, “See what you can find out.” I winked and James smiled.

  “Will do sir.”

  I entered the tent and found that Sir John was alone. He wore a plain blue frock coat. He was a neat little man but, as I later learned, his size determined his character. He was one of those little men who seem to resent everyone who is taller. His pinched and pasty face glared at me.

  “Well Captain Matthews what have you to say for yourself?”

  I was at a loss. What had I done that was wrong? “I’m sorry sir. What have I done to offend you?”

  “Going off like that without waiting to speak to me!”

  “Sir, the Consul told me that this camp was unsuitable for my horses and advised me to find another. I did so. I tried to find you but Sir Charles did not know where you had gone.”

  “You could have waited here. There were no other troops around.”

  “With respect sir there is neither shade nor grazing and my horses have just had a month on board a transport. I wanted to ensure that my troop’s mounts would be in the best condition possible for whatever task we have to perform.”

  “Hmn.” He shuffled papers around. In my experience that was always a sign that someone was buying time. He looked up, his sharp eyes wide in triumph. He obviously thought he had another point to score against me, “And Lieutenant Stuart tells me that you are miles away on a farm!”

  That explained the Lieutenant’s attitude. They were relatives. “Sir, we are only half an hour away from here and the camp site is perfect for my horses.”

  “And how much is it costing us eh? We have to live within a budget.”

  I smiled, “It is costing the army nothing, sir.” I paused, “I have incurred the expense.”

  He was really taken aback at that. I wouldn’t tell him that the money actually came from Napoleon; that would be far too difficult to explain. He seemed mollified. “Well don’t get too comfortable. I expect to have the force moved across the straits to Calabria. We are just waiting for the French to make their move. We do not wish to provoke them. Until then you can stay on your farm but I want you here each morning for an eight o’clock briefing with the other officers.”

  If he thought that would upset me he was wrong. “Sir, might I ask how you see the cavalry being used?”

  He slammed his pen down, “Well a troop is neither use nor ornament to me. You are not enough to be used offensively so what do you think you can do?”

  He was not as stupid as I had first thought. He was putting me on the defensive. He was trying to make me defend my troop. “We can scout and we can screen. The French have a Chasseur Regiment and they are good but I believe the 11th Light Dragoons are better.”

  “Do you indeed. And have you fought the French before?”

  “Yes sir, in Pomerania. We held the French cavalry off to allow the Hanoverian Army to escape. The Prince Regent was very happy with our performance.”

  His mouth opened and closed like a fish and then he said, “Dismissed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  After saluting I left. I saw James and the horses. They were talking to the gunners. I walked over to them. They were laughing as I approached. “Ah Captain Matthews, this is Captain Sillery who commands this battery.”

  He held out his hand, “Damned pleased to meet you. I see we are both in the minority eh?”

  “True but I suspect that we will have an effect beyond our numbers.”

  “Damned right.” He put his arm around my shoulder and led me to one side, “I see you have met the little man?”

  “Oh yes. I have been suitably admonished.”

  What for?”

  “Not camping
here.”

  He burst out laughing making some of the infantry officers turn and stare at us. “But this is bloody useless for horses. Ours are getting worse by the day!”

  “Ask if he will let you bring them to the farm. The grazing is good and there is shade.”

  He shook his head, “He does things by the book.” He smiled slyly, “Still we can take them for some exercise and it will get us away from this damned oven.”

  “I think we will be here until the New Year you know. I can’t see the French attacking in winter. The roads will be awful and it will suit our allies, the Neapolitans.”

  “Oh don’t say that. We will not survive another two months of this.” He waved a hand at the wagons. We haven’t even any drivers for the wagons. They forgot to send them their orders. I have no idea how we are going to get the wagons across the straits.”

  “I may be able to help you there. Do you have funds for drivers?”

  “Of course. There is a set rate for hiring civilian drivers if official ones are not available. I control that not Sir John.”

  “Then your problem is solved. I can get you reliable local drivers.”

  “Really? That is damned good of you. Things are looking up.”

  “Well I had better be off. I am back tomorrow for an eight o’clock briefing.”

  “You poor sod. That is a living death.”

  The cycle was set with the daily briefing. There was never anything new and I soon gleaned that our commander was terrified of making a mistake. The only break was in late October when we heard of the wonderful victory at Trafalgar; a victory which was offset by the tragic loss of Nelson. He had been, for me, our only hope against Napoleon. Although the French and Spanish fleets had been destroyed and we ruled the waves again I would have traded it all for Nelson still alive.

  That day apart we had our briefing and the soldiers paraded and marched to no avail. My men just exercised in the cool of the morning and early evening. Sir John seemed to think he was in England and they worked in the heat. Had I been in charge then I would have based myself closer to Naples. When Masséna came it would be faster than General Stuart could picture. I had fought against the Italians before; they were brave but they had second rate equipment and third rate leaders. However the pattern was set and, I daresay, might have continued in the same fashion had King Ferdinand not sent a messenger to Sir John in early January. The message must have arrived at night for, at our daily meeting, he held the missive before him.

  “I have been informed that King Ferdinand wishes to confer with an officer from this force. It seems that the forces we had in Naples, General Craig and the Russians have been withdrawn and that leaves us as the only allied soldiers in Southern Italy. I daresay he wants to use us in some way.” He glanced at Lieutenant Stuart, “Unfortunately I do not speak Italian and he has stipulated that we need an Italian speaker. Do we know of any officer or sergeant who can speak their language?”

  All faces turned to me. Sir John had virtually ignored me since my arrival and the lieutenant had obviously not mentioned that skill. Captain Sillery had told the others of my linguistic abilities and they had all profited by my negotiation for wine and foods. I was very popular.

  Captain Sillery coughed, “I believe, Sir John, that Captain Matthews is fluent in Italian sir.”

  The news did not please the General who flashed an angry look at his young relative. “Hmn. If you went, sir, then who would command the cavalry in your absence?”

  “Lieutenant Jackson is more than competent sir and has my complete support.”

  “Very well then take yourself and half a dozen of your men. There will be a transport waiting for you in Messina tomorrow.” He glowered at me. “I want a complete report of what you are doing.”

  I gave him an innocent look. “Every day, sir?”

  “No, you buffoon, weekly!”

  The other officers hid their smirks and I left. This was good news. I was bored and craved excitement. Perhaps the court of King Ferdinand would provide that.

  I selected Sergeant Seymour and asked him to find four troopers. James was both disappointed not to be coming and pleased to be given command. “I shall just go and see my cousin. Sergeant Sharp will pack my things. We leave at first light.”

  Cesar told me to be wary of King Ferdinand. “He is our king, I know but he is not like you, Roberto. He is impulsive. Be careful.” He hesitated, “I have friends at court and they tell me that he relied on the soldiers that the British and the Russians stationed in Naples. Now that Bonaparte has defeated the Austrians…”

  “He has beaten the Austrians?”

  “Did you not hear? He marched his men to Ulm and they captured that city and all the men and then he marched towards Austerlitz where he defeated the Russians and the Austrians. They are calling it the battle of the three Emperors. So you see Robbie, your French friend will be able to turn his attentions towards those who turned against him. Our king! The Queen is also the daughter of the Austrian Emperor and your friend Bonaparte will not miss an opportunity to humiliate the Austrians still further. Here we are safe for he needs ships to capture Sicily and your victory at Trafalgar protects us but on the mainland? Take care.”

  Sir John said much the same thing but our parting was more personal. We hugged and I felt sadder than at any time since Jean and my mother had died. I had enjoyed my bi-weekly visits for chess and conversation. It was our last meeting. He died three weeks later. He had lived to the age of over eighty and he was ready to die. It was we who were not yet ready to say goodbye to that fine old man who was a relic of a bygone era. I, for one, wished we could live by those values once more.

  Chapter 9

  Lieutenant Stuart was waiting for us at the harbour. He looked tired but I suspected he had been given the task as some sort of punishment. He saluted, “Here is a letter from Sir John for King Ferdinand. This is your ship.”

  I looked up at the smiling face of Captain Dinsdale. “How on earth…!”

  “Get your tackle on board and I will tell you.”

  “Thank you, lieutenant. I will send reports as directed.”

  As we headed north, our horses safely berthed below decks, I stood with Captain Dinsdale and my two sergeants. “The thing is, Robbie, I am English and so I get all the trade from the Consul. They don’t like to speak the local language. They think they are being robbed and so they hire me. It works out very well… for both of us.”

  “And you rob them!”

  He grinned, “Got it in one. But as you share the profits then so do you. Well I have been told to take you to Naples. Is that still the orders or have you some ulterior motive?”

  “No, Matthew, for once my mission is above board. We will enjoy the voyage. How long will it take?”

  “Could take a week if the winds are wrong but more likely it will only be a couple of days. You and your lads can enjoy themselves.”

  Although the weather was cool, by Sicilian standards, the weather was clement and it was a pleasant voyage. During that time I briefed Sergeants Sharp and Seymour. “I think we will be operating here as a troop sooner rather than later so keep a map and remember what we see. We have the luxury of peace at the moment but when the French come it will be in a hurry.”

  “What are were expected to do with this king then?”

  “I have no idea. I think he will just want the reassurance that Britain will come to his aid if he decides to snub the Emperor.”

  Sergeant Seymour did not look convinced, “I don’t think we can do much with one troop of cavalry and three poxy six pounders.”

  He was right. As a force it was not much but it was all that His Majesty had deemed fit to be sent. I would have to learn diplomatic skills.

  Naples was a huge bustling city nestling under the brooding shadow of the mighty Vesuvius. There appeared to be no order in the harbour and the whole maelstrom was a scene of chaos. The smaller ships and boats looked to be like seagulls mobbing the larger ships. Captain Dinsda
le was obviously practised in the art of navigating such chaotic waters and we were soon tied to a stone quay. While my men off loaded the horses and equipment Matthew took me to one side.

  “I wouldn’t count on these Neapolitans too much. They are fairly useless and you will have to live off your wits. If you need someone to come back for you then leave a message with the harbour master. We have slipped him enough coins over the years for him to owe us many favours.” He shook my hand. “Take care Robbie although you have the uncanny ability to step into horse shit and come out smelling of roses.”

  I shook my head in mock indignation, “A fine way to talk to your partner.”

  “It is because you are my partner that I can talk to you this way.”

  We led our horses along the quayside. Our uniforms and our mounts forced people to stand and stare creating a passage towards the town. I guessed that we would head for the Royal Palace. I vaguely remembered it from my visit all those years earlier when I had met the late lamented Nelson. I wondered how the lovely Lady Hamilton was coping with the loss of the love of her life. The memory of that fine lady triggered other memories and I glanced to my left to see if I could see Carlo, the old fisherman who had helped Jean and I all those years ago. He was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he too had died. I began to feel morbid as all the good people in my life seemed to have passed on.

  When we emerged from the chaos of the harbour we entered the equally chaotic town. “Mount lads, otherwise some of these locals will have the buttons from your uniforms.”

  Once above the mass of humanity we could see the fluttering flags which identified the Royal Palace. We kicked on. The Neapolitan Royal Guards were easily spotted for they wore a very bright and gaudy uniform. The ones selected for the palace, however, appeared to know their job. The muskets were in perfect condition and they bore themselves like professionals.

 

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