Hervey winced, putting Ajax between his two and the maddened lancers.
Acton doubled back, grabbing his trooper’s reins and scrambling into the saddle.
The lancers swerved only at the last, Hervey thrusting his sabre out to the ‘Guard’.
He had no Dutch, but bellowed nevertheless – until one of their cornets appeared.
‘For pity’s sake, the men are fallen! My prisoners! They’ll answer to me!’
fn1 ‘To Paris! Death to the French!’
XVIII
A WATERLOO DESPATCH
Next day
Caserne de la Garde Civile,
Brussels.
19 June 1830.
To The Commander in Chief,
Horse Guards.
My Lord,
I have the honour to report that yesterday, on the fifteenth anniversary of the victory at Waterloo, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince of Orange-Nassau at the head of a brigade consisting of His own Fourth Regiment of Light Dragoons, the Prussian First Regiment of Hussars of the Guard, and His Majesty’s Sixth Light Dragoons made a chevachie over the field of battle. His Majesty’s regiment was accompanied by their Colonel in Chief, Her Royal Highness The Princess Augusta of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. Afterwards His Royal Highness entertained the entire brigade to luncheon in the curtilage of the Inn of La Belle Alliance. I have the further honour to report that the bearing and conduct of His Majesty’s troops were throughout of the highest order and received the praise of His Royal Highness.
I have to report, however, a most untoward event. By this time the Royal party had been joined by Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess, and later retired to the village of Waterloo for the purposes of visiting the former headquarters of the Duke of Wellington. As the party, to which HRH The Princess Augusta and myself were attached, were passing along the main street there followed a disturbance which, though quickly subdued, might have led to loss of life on the part of the royal assemblage, for shots were fired and a bomb was thrown at the carriage procession, which was rendered harmless by the prompt action of the Regimental Serjeant-Major of HM’s 6th LD, whose conduct I commend most particularly to Your Lordship’s attention. Several of those thought to be responsible were apprehended and are now being questioned by the authorities.
This is the first manifestation of violent hostility witnessed by any of His Majesty’s troops, though the blue of our uniforms gives rise to confusion with the Dutch (or even the Prussians) and has been the occasion for some disdain towards us, though when the truth of our nationality is discovered it has been followed at once by the most cordial expressions.
I attach a schedule of our complete undertakings to date, and will, of course, keep Your Lordship informed routinely of our progress, and at once of any further untoward events.
I have the Honour to remain Your Lordship’s obedient servant,
Matthew Hervey,
Lt-Colonel Commanding
HM’s 6th Light Dragoons
Reports of the affair at Waterloo were not to be had in any of the newspapers in Brussels, however, which caused him some surprise – puzzlement indeed. On the other hand, events in Paris were the cause of the greatest speculation in every edition. It appeared that in March the chamber of deputies had addressed a motion of no confidence in the king and his prime minister, Jules de Polignac (whom the Pope had made ‘Prince’), and in reply the king had dissolved the parlement. The government was promptly defeated in the elections that followed, but Charles dix, roi de France et de Navarre, was not deterred. He had already dissolved the Garde Nationale – the Marquis de Lafayette’s famed militia (in truth, the Paris mob under nominal regulation) – and it seemed, said many, that le roi now wished to take the country back to the days before the fall of the Bastille.
Hervey supposed – and Fairbrother was convinced – that the authorities in Brussels had suppressed the news of the attack on the crown prince (not least the confusion of the escort, which Fairbrother had witnessed from the rear of the column). Yet why, he couldn’t fathom: such news would surely tend to increase the standing of the prince, for fear of ‘the mob’, and indeed of revolution, was surely not confined to the respectable citizens of England. Did suppression of the news therefore indicate that there was more general unrest? That the authorities feared the affair at Waterloo, were it to become known, would stir up further strife? He certainly knew of the trouble two years ago, when the Liberal and Catholic parties formed an alliance to demand equal rights for the people of the southern provinces, both the Dutch-speaking Flemings and the French-speaking Walloons, and that it had gone badly with the Protestants, Holland. For some of the Belgics, he understood, such rights meant self-government, even in dependence; and for the ultra-Liberals, incorporation with France again. But that was all past. And although Brussels, it was said, was unusually full of Frenchmen, many of whom seemed bent on abuse of the Dutch king, he had seen no cause for alarm. And all the celebrations of the anniversary had proceeded without incident save for the ‘untoward event’ at Waterloo – even the levee that evening, the crown prince being determined to pass off the affair as if it were nothing more than the action of a few hot-heads.
The field days and reviews continued as planned (the Princess Augusta continuing to show the closest interest) until, on the last day of the month, Brussels learned of the death of King George. At once the Sixth returned to barracks and adopted the formalities of court mourning, which Hervey had to contrive until the supplement to the London Gazette of 28 June arrived with precise instructions:
His Majesty does not require that the Officers of the Army should wear any other mourning, with their uniforms, on the present melancholy occasion, than black crape over the ornamental part of the cap or hat, the sword knot, and on the left arm, with the following exceptions, viz.
Officers on duty are to wear black gloves, black crape over the ornamental part of the cap or hat, the sword knot, and on the left arm; the sash covered with black crape; black gorget ribband; and a black crape scarf over the right shoulder.
The drums are to be covered with black, and black crape is to be hung from the pike of the colour staff of infantry, and from the standard staff and trumpets of cavalry.
And it had kept Mr Lincoln’s tailors busy for days, and Mr Rennie and his serjeant-majors at dismounted drill with arms reversed and the slow march. The late King was indeed to be much mourned by the regiment – by order (and Hervey himself, who, besides of late having some feeling of pity for him in his state of dereliction, saw his own patronage at once removed).
‘Shall I read you this from The Times, got this morning – and at some expense, I may say?’
Hervey had just come from orderly room, where Malet and the sar’nt-major were finalizing matters to mark the royal obsequies. Fairbrother sat by the open window of his comfortable suite in the Hôtel de Brabant, in which he’d installed himself on return from Paris the day before. The hotel stood in a corner of the Grande Place – to the Flemings, the Grote Markt, but lately the law had been amended to allow French to be an ‘official language’ in the Flemish provinces (and anyway, Brussels stood outside Flanders proper).
‘If it is not too long, for I’m fair famished.’
‘The late King’s obituary – a good length, as you might suppose, but most unfavourable. This you should hear: “There never was an individual less regretted by his fellow creatures than this deceased King. What eye has wept for him? What heart has heaved one throb of unmercenary sorrow? If he ever had a friend – a devoted friend in any rank of life – we protest that the name of him or her never reached us.” Well, what say you to that? Would that the Paris papers had such licence to print what they wished.’
Hervey grimaced. ‘I think it lacking somewhat, were it to be the last word on him. Does it say more?’
‘A great deal, but in essence no – it is universally abominating, I would say. And parliament’s to be dissolved.’
‘That is the custom, but I foresee little
change there,’ said Hervey, looking out into the Place and thinking it a fine thing that in England kings and parliaments might change with so little consequence to good order – and, yes, to military discipline. ‘Let us go out into this pleasant square and eat, and you may tell me what you found in Paris – of the situation, I mean.’
‘Very well.’
‘I’ve brought you black, by the way.’ He handed his friend a crape band. ‘Lincoln has bought more lace these last few days than a dozen milliners in a whole year. I’ve decided that every dragoon shall wear it, on his arm. I thought it a proper show as we’re abroad.’
Fairbrother said he thought it proper too.
They chose an estaminet in the shade, and a table outside. A waiter brought jugs of red wine, carbonated water, bread and a dish of charcuterie.
‘So, tell me of Paris,’ said Hervey, beginning at once on a pied de porc, which he trusted was not inconsistent with wearing black crape.
‘I’ll spare you the details of my itinerary, but I must say that I never saw a place so full of good things and yet with so feverish a disposition, and which I judge to be its habitual state. When I had coffee of a morning, no matter where, the talk was all of la politique, and then the same again à déjeuner … et puis à diner la même chose. And all so en fait that I couldn’t fathom if the tumult were any more than it was, say, a year ago, or if it were some great increase on account of the king’s doings. I questioned one or two – well, rather a few in point of fact – and they were all of a mind that “les Bourbons sont finis”.’
‘Did you hear tell of another Bonaparte?’ asked Hervey warily.
Fairbrother raised his eyebrows. ‘I heard much of “Égalité” – Louis Égalité.’
‘Ah, the wandering prince.’
‘Explain?’
‘You know he is an Orléans?’
‘I do.’
‘After his father, Philippe, was guillotined – it was he who’d taken the name “Égalité” in the revolution – he fled abroad and fetched up in all sorts of places. Peto told me how his first ship – long before his joining – had stopped an American frigate in the Gulf of Mexico with Prince Louis and his two brothers aboard, and taken them off and put in to Havana, to where they were bound anyway. And they went thence to Canada, I believe, and not long afterwards to England, where he stayed until Bonaparte was sent south. He even proposed marriage to Princess Elizabeth, I understand.’
‘Well, in the coach coming back here I’d more time to discuss the prince with his countrymen, and there seems no doubt that if kings were elected, it would be he on the throne and not his cousin.’
‘Mm.’
‘You sound uncertain.’
‘Choosing kings? A doubtful game.’
‘Not without precedent. Or are you a Jacobite?’
Hervey frowned. ‘Tricky. My father maintains he would’ve been a non-juror. But the House of Hanover is hallowed by time.’
‘And we have a fine new king now.’
Hervey smiled. ‘Indeed we do.’ He raised his glass. ‘To His Majesty.’
Fairbrother raised his. ‘The King! And no one hearing us will know which we toast – that at Windsor or Het Loo.’
‘Quite so,’ said Hervey, smiling the more. ‘Just as they can’t fathom my blue coat – the Walloons take me for Dutch, and the Flemings for German. Well, in a month or so, if I’ve heard right, we’ll all be in red, and that will settle the matter.’
‘But not I, most assuredly,’ said Fairbrother. He poured more wine and sliced into a black pudding. ‘By the bye, what news of the Waterloo prisoners?’
Hervey glanced left and right. There was no one in earshot, but he lowered his voice nevertheless. ‘Those we took appear to be innocent – or rather, common felons. They thought us policemen and bolted. The bomb was by all accounts a crude device, though had it exploded it would have had effect. The authorities are, as they say, pursuing their inquiries. I should add that the crown prince is to present the sar’nt-major with a gold medal, but without public ceremony. The whole affair’s been kept very quiet, though how long it will remain so I shouldn’t care to say.’
‘A rum business.’
‘I went to see General Bylandt, the military governor of Brabant. He commanded a brigade at Waterloo. He says the separatists are arming, and becoming bolder, of which the affair on the eighteenth is evidence. Especially about Liège and Charleroi, where there’s much industry – coal and iron and the like. The agitateurs there want thorough independence.’
‘And what did he think were their chances?’
‘He thinks it depends on what happens in France. But his chief fear is that in any general tumult the French will occupy the southern provinces, and he’d be powerless to resist, and that the government – the government in The Hague – would then call on the Congress powers to restore the kingdom, since it was they who created it. But would they answer?’
‘Would they?’
Hervey shrugged. ‘Bylandt knows no more than I. The Prussians might. Another hundred miles or so of border with France can’t be a happy prospect for them. The Austrians? Perhaps. The Russians? I think they have their hands full with the Poles at present. Us? We hadn’t the troops to send to Portugal three years ago to stop a little fighting between two brothers. If France has designs, now’d be a good time to throw the dice.’
‘And did your General Bylandt say what action he proposed?’
‘I asked what he’d do in the event of serious disturbance, and he just shook his head.’
Fairbrother inclined his in the way he did to show his detachment. ‘Then it would seem that King William in Amsterdam needs to find a commander who’s made of sterner stuff. And without delay.’
Hervey raised an eyebrow. ‘What you must bear in mind with Bylandt, who by no means lacks courage with the sword – he fought hard at Quatre Bras and was carried from the field at Waterloo – is that his father was court-martialled for surrendering Breda to the French.’
Fairbrother smiled a shade sardonically. ‘The sins of the fathers … And is this haunted gloom descending on his command generally?’
‘Well, it doesn’t appear to have dampened festivities. There’ve been fêtes every day this past week. Our men have been taking their ease very agreeably. The troops disperse tomorrow for drill, though, and then come together again with the Dutch at the end of the month, and then back here again in the first week of August for the exhibition, which, I might add, is looking very fine – such clever building. And then the illumination for the king’s birthday on the twenty-fourth, which the king himself is attending.’
‘I ought perhaps to have stayed in Paris longer.’
‘Not at all. I’ve no wish to sit on the captains’ shoulders for a fortnight while they drill. I thought we might see Antwerp – and Louvain.’
‘Capital.’ Fairbrother took another slice of black pudding. ‘I have to say, changing the subject, that food is very different in Paris.’
‘So I recall.’
‘I liked it.’
‘I was never very partial.’
‘One of the restaurateurs said to me, “In France there is one religion and fifty sauces, but you English” – I tried to explain, but he’d not heard of Jamaica – “you English have fifty religions and but one sauce!” He thought it prodigiously funny.’
Hervey sighed. ‘It loses something, perhaps, in its frequent repetition.’
Fairbrother looked disappointed. ‘You will admit, however, that Paris is a most civilized place.’
‘If you like sauces … And French civilization always appears to me accompanied by so much blood and destruction. They are most immoderate. The Grande Place here – you know they reduced it to a pile of rubble?’
‘When?’
‘But a century ago – well, a little more, but close enough.’
Fairbrother frowned. ‘And they’re still reviled for it?’
‘They brought up artillery and pounded it for days,
set fire to the city. Libraries, archives, objets d’art – all gone. Half the city lost, they say. As bad as the Prussians. Though, I grant you, clever with sauce.’
Fairbrother looked at him warily. ‘I suppose that if you were at Waterloo it is not so easy to forget.’
Hervey’s eyes narrowed. ‘No, it is not. Nor the years that preceded it.’
XIX
LES TROIS GLORIEUSES
Brussels, 30 July 1830
He arrived half an hour before the meeting. Long experience told him his time would never be wasted, for the conference would always be clearer for having pondered the maps which the staff had been consulting, comparing them with his own. Besides, there were always useful confidences to be picked up from friends in whatever headquarters, or those who thought it to their advantage. Not that he expected this to be a meeting like any other he’d attended. To begin with, he’d little idea why he’d been summoned; and, secondly, he had no Dutch.
Gendarmes saluted as he and Malet got down from the landau at the entrance to the baroque house in the Place Royale that was the seat of the civil governor of Brabant, Baron Hyacinthe van der Fosse. Inside he was greeted in flawless English by one of the crown prince’s aides-de-camp, whom he’d come to know – and like – in the two months since arriving in Brussels.
‘Captain Bentinck, a relief to see you,’ he said, holding out a hand, which seemed to be the manner of greeting no matter what the time or circumstances. ‘There will be one at least with whom I can speak, and understand. Is the crown prince to come?’
‘No, Colonel, but you are here at his request, and I am here therefore to assist you.’
‘Very well.’
Bentinck and Malet exchanged greetings. They had known each other many summers; there’d been many a Bentinck at Eton.
‘Perhaps you will tell me what is the purpose of the meeting?’ asked Hervey as they began the staircase to the piano nobile.
Words of Command (Hervey 12) (Matthew Hervey) Page 30