by Griff Hosker
I smiled, “I believe it was an Austrian officer who furnished me with the weapon.” I saw the question on his face. “In the Low Countries, 1795.”
“You were a horseman?”
“A Chasseur, the 17th.”
He smiled, “Not a real one then.” He handed me a bottle. “Here this will keep the cold out.” I took a swig; it was rough brandy but welcome nonetheless. I handed it to Sergeant Sharp. “Filthy night to be out and,” he lowered his voice, “Austria starts just two miles down that road.”
“Then why is the barrier facing Strasbourg?”
“It isn’t but our horses alerted us to your presence.” He looked at them. “They are fine horses. If you wish to avoid the Austrians then I suggest you ride along the trail through the forest. They patrol it during the day but they are lazy bastards and keep to the road at night.” He grinned, “We have used it to surprise them a few times.
“Thank you, sergeant.”
“We cavalrymen must stick together. You had better be careful; they might be lazy bastards but they know their job. They are a nervous bunch and they shoot first and ask questions later.”
I mounted, “I hope to see you again, perhaps in a month or so?”
He tapped his nose, “I will keep watch for you.”
The trail was just beyond the barrier and a trooper led us there. “It twists and turns but it will get you to the other side of the border. Good luck.”
The trail was clear but it had been made by walkers and not riders. We had to keep low in the saddle and we became soaked as we knocked rain from the branches of the conifers we passed. That, however, was a small price to pay for security. The track wound circuitously through the thick forests. It was difficult to hear for the dripping of the rain but we pushed on.
We had been riding for an hour or so when I smelled smoke. It was not the wood smoke of a house; instead it was the smell of tobacco. Someone was smoking ahead. My experience told me that it would be Austrians. They had pickets out on the trail. The sergeant’s surprises had been duly noted! I stopped my horse and made the danger sign for Sharp. We tied the four horses to a tree and, drawing our swords I led us forward. I used the forest rather than the trail; there was little undergrowth but we soon became even wetter. The rain dripped from the leaves and wetted us as we passed by. We were drawn on by the smell of the smoke. Suddenly something moved and I saw the light of a small fire. The movement had been a moving sentry.
We stopped and crouched until we could ascertain numbers. There appeared to be three men and they were in the middle of the trail. From their uniforms they were Austrian Hussars. I had fought them in Italy. There was no way that we could go by them, the horses would make too much noise and we would be seen. There remained only one option, we had to eliminate them. The light was hidden as a trooper moved again. We now had their positions. I tapped Sharp on the shoulder. I sliced my finger across my throat. He nodded his understanding. I would take the one on the right and he would take the one on the left. Hopefully the third would fall easily. We separated and I held my sword before me. In situations like this is was normally the one to strike first who would emerge alive and my hands were quick.
The ground was slippery and it was hard to move as swiftly as one wished. I took it slowly. Perhaps Sergeant Sharp was moving quicker than I was but whatever the reason I was still a yard or two from the back of my target when I heard the scream of the trooper being stabbed by Sergeant Sharp. There was no point in being silent any longer and I leapt forward, the tip of my sword darting towards the man I had chosen to kill. My movement and the death of his comrade had alerted him and he spun around. My sword sliced along the back of his left hand and he shouted a curse in Austrian. I heard the clatter of metal on metal as Sharp fought with his opponent.
I was facing a sergeant and he knew his business. His sabre was out in an instant. Therein lay my advantage, it was not only curved, it was shorter. He would have to slash at me whilst I could stab at longer range. Even so his first move took me by surprise; he slashed at my eyes. I had to react immediately and I jerked my head back. He quickly brought the blade around again to slash at my middle and I barely had time to deflect the blade. He was too good a swordsman to toy with and I went on the offensive. I feinted to the right. He brought his shorter sword up to counter the blow and then, spinning around, I brought my sword around to cut deep into his midriff. His buttons, trim and pelisse afforded him some protection but my edge was razor sharp and it came away red. His eyes showed that I had hurt him. Before he could bring his sword around again I darted forward and ended his misery with a clean thrust to the throat. I turned quickly. I was just in time. Sharp had slipped and the trooper was poised to deliver the coup de grace. He had a surprised look on his face as my sword emerged from his chest and he fell down dead.
“Are you alright Sharp?” I helped him up.
“Yes sir. I just feel like an idiot, attacking early and then slipping like that.”
“Never mind. Have a look around and find their horses. I’ll check their bodies.”
The sergeant had a purse filled with coins as well as a pass to enter Ulm. I pocketed that for future use. The troopers had some coins as well. Austrian currency was useful as it would make us less conspicuous. The sergeant’s sword was better than Sharp’s and, when he returned with the horses, I gave it to him.
The men had food on the fire and we quickly devoured it. Combat gave one an appetite. After we had eaten I looked at the bodies. They would be discovered the first thing in the morning and that might only be an hour or so away. The Austrians would hunt us down and we would not be able to get far enough away in a couple of hours. We had to buy some time.
“Put them on their horses. Tie them over their saddles with their hands and feet bound together.”
We used the reins to tie them and then we led the three horses and their grisly cargo back to our mounts. With no reins to guide them and a rider on the back the horses leapt down the track when we slapped their rumps. They would gallop for a few miles and then stop. With any luck they would reach the Sergeant and his patrol. Three horses and the weapons would be a welcome bonus for men on picket duty on a wet German night. The rain had stopped and the horses would be easy to track. The Austrians would follow them and, hopefully look that way for their killers.
We mounted and left the track until we were beyond the camp of the three dead pickets and then we rejoined it. Within a mile or so we found that we were at the main road once again. We had to move swiftly now for the relief for the three dead troopers might well be on their way from the nearest village.
The short rest had allowed the horses to recover and we made good time along the road. There was an inn ahead and I was looking forward to stopping for a hot meal and a fire to dry out our clothes. The clip clopping in the distance of a troop of horses persuaded me to defer that decision. We kicked the horses on into the woods and hid behind the inn. I left Sharp with the horses and closed with the rear wall of the building. The troop stopped and I saw lights from the door as the inn keeper opened it.
“Well, Gustav, was it another quiet night or have you had any guests?”
I heard a laugh and then a smoky voice replied, “Just Hans and his patrol before they went on duty. You know how he likes his schnapps.”
“It will be his undoing. We will return in an hour. Have something hot ready for us.”
As they cavalry trotted down the road I realised what a close call it had been. We needed to put off any hope of food and make the next town as quickly as possible. When the patrol had left we cantered down the road each riding his spare horse. Dawn arrived but it was still a dull and dank day. The temperature had not risen much although the rain had, at least, not returned. There was an air of dampness which seeped into your clothes and chilled you to the bone. We were both desperate for a fire, hot food and a bed. We saw a small town ahead and I decided that we had to stay somewhere and rest if only for the horses’ sakes. We would be
able to make much better time with fresh mounts.
The town of Oberkirch was a typical Austrian town. There were inns and there were shops. What there was not was a garrison and for that I was grateful. Having decided to cut across country and avoid the Rhine I had avoided the border.
The Golden Crown looked to have a stable and accommodation. Surprisingly we were accepted without any suspicion despite the fact that I was obviously a foreigner. Sharp and I would speak in English whenever possible for this was not the language of the enemy, the French. The waiter who served us our meal was quite garrulous and we learned how lucky we had been. There had been a garrison but a month earlier it had been sent towards the border. Everyone in the town, it seemed, feared a French invasion. They were intrigued that I was an Englishman but when I said I represented an Italian exporter of wines and lemons it was accepted. I was even questioned about the trade. It was fortunate that I knew enough about it to be able to talk confidently.
After the waiter had gone I told Sharp my plan. “We will rise early and push on as far as we can. With two horses I think we can cover quite a distance. We will try to get to Ulm in two days. It will mean travelling sixty miles a day. We have to move.”
Sharp smiled and shrugged, “It will keep us warm. This country is a little cold for me.”
That was Sharp’s way. He always looked on the positive side. And so we left for Boblinghen before dawn. It proved to be a mirror image of Oberkirch and equally focussed on business. In fact the further from the border we went the less worried were the people. Our journey was going far better than I hoped. The scares on the first night had worried me.
Late in the afternoon, as the sun was setting behind us, we saw the fortress city of Ulm loom large ahead. This definitely had a garrison. Here there would be soldiers and we would be questioned. We made it through the gates just in time. They were about to close for the night. The timing might actually have helped us for the guards there seemed keen to quit their post and become warm. Our papers were only given a cursory glance. I did not have to use the dead sergeant’s pass. Once they realised that we were English we were no longer a threat. We had reached our first destination and our work as spies for Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte could begin.
I chose a large hotel in the middle of the city. We had money and there was no point in penny pinching. The “Boar’s Snout” was a lively hotel with a large stable. Our horses would not stand out there. It looked to be a hotel frequented by carriages. We would attract little attention here as there would be many such as us. The owner was a friendly fellow and he even tried to speak English to us to make us feel at home. He had the most magnificent moustache I had ever seen and I knew that my old comrade Pierre would be envious. He seemed inordinately proud of it and twirled it constantly. To give credence to our story I asked him which hotels and inns served quality wine and used lemons and olive oil.
His face became sad. “I am sorry sir. We like beer and simple food in Ulm.” He leaned forwards. “It is the garrison. There are over two thousand soldiers here serving three hundred guns. They make sure that we serve beer and simple food.” He brightened, “Perhaps in Vienna?”
I smiled back. It served my purpose for we were heading there and I had learned much already. “That is an excellent idea. We will, however spend tomorrow visiting your fine town so that I may gauge what your city needs that my family can provide.”
We left the cosy hotel after dark. The town was a foggy miserable rabbit warren. It suited us for most people would have stayed indoors. We would be unlikely to be seen whilst we spied out the defences of the fortress city. We took our swords; it would be foolish to risk being assaulted by criminals. We wrapped up well with cloaks as well as hats. I intended to find a bar frequented by some of the soldiers of the garrison in the hope of gleaning information. Soldiers in their cups were more likely to have unguarded tongues. The walls of the city ran alongside the Rhine and that was where the seedier ale houses frequented by the soldiers would be.
We entered the first inn we came to. It was badly lit but it was crowded, filled largely with soldiers of the garrison. These were not front line soldiers. These were men who manned the ancient cannon on the wall and stopped visitors like me entering the city. They were more like militia than regulars. If the ones we saw when we entered were a measure of the city’s defences then a regiment of cavalry could take it. We ordered a couple of wheat beers. Sharp had never drunk the brew before and he found it interesting. Our conversation about the beer in English seemed to allay any suspicions the other customers might have harboured.
The landlord came down to our end of the bar, “What are you two fine gentlemen doing in this part of town?” He nodded meaningfully at the others. “It is neither the safest nor the sort of place fine folk frequent.”
I shrugged, “We only arrived today and we are lost. I saw your bar as a haven. We are staying at the ‘Boar’s Snout’.”
“A fine hotel. When you have finished your beer turn right and then head towards the centre of the town. You will find it.”
I nodded and we drank in silence. I listened to the conversations of those around me. They were not happy. Pay had been late in arriving and there appeared to be widespread discontent. Of course it could be that the only malcontents from the garrison were in this inn but I doubted it. These men had no pride in their uniform and they were eking out their ale; a sure sign that they were short of money.
When we left I headed towards the walls of the fortress to see if I could catch sight of the artillery. There had been a time I would not have known the difference between the guns but I was now a veteran and I knew what could do damage to an attacker and what was more likely to hurt the ones firing. As luck would have it we came upon two unguarded guns which peered through the embrasure in the wall. While Sharp kept watch I examined them. Although it was dark I discovered much through touch. The barrels were rusted and the trunions seized. The guns would be hard to move and they would not fire true. The balls themselves were pitted and uneven. Between the rusted barrels and the poor balls it would be impossible to aim these cannon. The windage alone would make the prediction of fall of shot a guessing game.
We headed around the rest of the wall but the other guns had men nearby making examination impossible and we hurried on as though late for an appointment. I was about to enter another seedy inn when I heard noises coming from behind it. I was intrigued. If what I suspected was true then these might be soldiers trying to rob someone. It would be a good test of my theory. I drew my sword and Sharp copied me. We slipped along the wall and peered around to the barrel yard at the back of the tiny tavern.
There were four of them and they were all gunners. They had a young man backed up against a wall. They held swords before them as thought they knew what they were doing while the young man ineffectually waved his before him. Perhaps he thought it was a magic wand. I had the information I needed and I could have left but I suspect that I inherited a sense of duty from both my mother and my father. I could not leave this young man to be robbed by these thugs. I decided to intervene.
I spoke in German, “Is there a problem here?”
I saw the relief on the young man’s face but the leader of the soldiers, a huge brute of a corporal snarled, “Piss off out of it before we stick you and your mate, fancy pants!”
I smiled and said to Sharp, “It seems they want us to leave.” I saw the expression on the young man’s face turn to one of horror. “How about you? Would you like us to leave too?”
His voice sounded high pitched. At the time I thought it was fear but I later found out that this was his natural voice, “Actually sir, I would like to leave with you.”
I kept my sword in my hand as I moved a little closer and said, “There you are! You see we are welcome. Of course you can come with us sir. We would be…”
I got no further as the corporal roared at me and swung his sword at my head. Even though I anticipated the move had I not been on the balls of my
feet he would have split my head open. As it was I was able to pirouette around so that his sword struck fresh air. I quickly sliced across the back of the knuckles on his right hand with my longer sword. He screamed as his sword fell from his damaged hand. A second gunner tried to skewer me but Sharp’s newly acquired sabre slashed across his thigh and he too dropped his weapon.
Before the others could react I had my sword at the throat of one of the unwounded gunners. My voice was now cold and threatening. I spoke deliberately. “Now if I were you I would take your wounded friends and get back to the fortress and hope that my new friend here does not make a complaint to the commander of the garrison. I do not think they take kindly to soldiers robbing honest visitors.”
They turned to look at the corporal who nodded. They went to retrieve their weapons. “No gentlemen, let us leave them where they lie. I would not like you to be tempted to attack us again later on.” The two unwounded men helped their comrades away. I turned to the young man. “You come with me. Sharp, watch our backs.” The rescued young man tried to speak but I held up my hand. “No, let us get somewhere safe and then we talk.”
I had no idea where he lived but I was anxious to return to our hotel. It was central and it was safe. It was with some relief when I saw the streets brighten and found more people about the place.
I pointed to the hotel. “We are staying here. Come and join us for a drink and we can hear your story.”
He smiled and nodded, “An excellent suggestion.”
He had more colour in his cheeks and he appeared to be more composed. We sat at a quiet table by the fire and I ordered a bottle of white wine. I would have preferred red but I knew that it would be white or beer here. After it had been poured I held up my glass. “Cheers. I am Robert Alpini and this is my servant Alan Sharp.”