Soldier Spy

by Griff Hosker

  I quickly mounted Badger and set off slowly. As soon as the road turned again I kicked him on to increase the distance between me and those chasing me. I heard the thundering of the hooves of their horses. All pretence had now gone. They were after me. I leaned forward and urged Badger on. I kept looking around for some side road or some house but all was darkness and emptiness. I was alone.

  I had my two horse pistols and I had my sword but the men following me held the advantage for they could split up and come at me from different directions. I had to regain the initiative. Suddenly I saw a gap in the hedge which bordered the road and I jinked Badger’s head to whip him into the track which, I assumed led to some farm. I stopped immediately and turned Badger to face the road. The three horsemen galloped by and I saw that they were armed. They hurtled down the Dover Road. It would not take them long to realise that I had hidden myself somewhere. Both Badger and I regained our breath. I drew, primed and cocked my pistols. The sound seemed loud but I knew that the hooves of my pursuer’s horses would have disguised the sound. I edged Badger closer to the road. We were still hidden by the hedge and I waited.

  The sound of the hooves receded and then stopped. After a few moments I heard them as they returned down the road. They were going slowly now and searching for me. This was nerve wracking. It would come down to which of us had the quicker wits and reactions. I heard them as they came closer and their conversation dispelled any doubts I might have harboured that they were innocent travellers.

  “Where did the sneaky bastard get to?”

  “He has to be somewhere close. Remember we were told he was a soldier. It stands to reason that he will be crafty. That’s why the money is so good. He won’t be easy to kill.”

  “Will you shut up, he might hear us.”

  “And he might run when he hears us! That way we will know where he is.”

  Their voices had told me where they were and they were getting closer. Suddenly one of their horses snorted and whinnied. “He’s close.”

  The horse’s head appeared and then the first man. He was holding a pistol before him. I did not move. There was a thin branch before me and it broke up my outline. He stared but did not appear to see me. When the second horse’s head appeared Badger moved slightly and I saw the man’s pistol swing around. I fired first and he was thrown from his saddle. I kicked Badger out and aimed my right pistol as I emerged. I fired at the same time as the first man. His ball struck the top of my Tarleton helmet; mine hit him in the face. I holstered my pistols and drew my sword. The third man had decided that enough was enough he galloped back up the London road.

  I dismounted and walked up to the first man I had shot. I knew that the second man was dead for his face had disappeared but I saw movement from the other attacker. My ball had punched a hole in his middle. It was a mortal wound but he was still alive.

  “Who sent you?”

  The response was a mouthful of bloody phlegm spat in my direction. I began to search him. In his pockets I found five guineas. Someone was willing to pay well. I left the dying man and searched the body of the man with the bloodied face. He too had five guineas. I slung the body across his saddle.

  As I approached the dying man he tried to raise himself on to one elbow. “You’ll get yours Captain bloody Matthews. You stable…” Then he fell back dead. Had he spoken the name it could not have been any clearer. DeVere was behind this. I found the other horse standing forlornly by the hedge. I retrieved it and put the second body across his saddle. I led the two horses towards the Coach and Horses. It was five miles distant. It gave me time to ponder the problem of the DeVeres. I would have to try to neutralise them in some way without ending up on the gallows myself.

  The inn was still open. The innkeeper came out to inspect the bodies. “The nearest constable is in Canterbury, sir but I can tell you that this one, the one who still has a face, is Jem Harris. He is a notorious highwayman. I am guessing that the other is Dick Dawes. He looks to be the right build. There is a reward of ten guineas on each of them.”

  I shook my head. “You claim it. You might as well have the horses too.”

  He brightened. “That is very generous of you sir. Now the bodies won’t hurt for lying in a stable until morning. We’ll go and get some food and room sorted out for you sir. Hey Nob, come and see to these horses.”

  I called in to speak with the constable when I passed through Canterbury. I explained what had happened and where the bodies were. “I am stationed down the road with the 11th Light Dragoons should you need me.”

  “And the reward sir?”

  “Give it to the landlord of the Coach and Horses. He helped me.”

  “Very generous of you sir. And you say there was a third?”

  “Aye, he rode off to towards London.”

  “Well you leave all of this with me sir.”

  Back at the barracks I explained to the colonel that Sergeant Sharp and I would need a week’s leave. He smiled, “You have taken less leave than any officer in the regiment but you rarely get any time off. Don’t you want to forget all this cloak and dagger stuff and just enjoy yourself in town with the other young officers?”

  I thought of the DeVeres; if they were typical of young officers then I would prefer to work for Colonel Selkirk. “When I leave the army sir, then I will enjoy the life of a gentleman.”

  “You are thinking of leaving? I thought you were a career officer. You are one of the finest cavalry officers I have ever met. It would be a shame if you were to leave.”

  “No sir, I am not a career officer but I will not be leaving until Bonaparte is finished with.”

  “Looking at his successes in Europe, that will not be for some time yet. He thumped the Austrians and Russians at Austerlitz last year and the Prussians last month at Jena. Can no one beat him?”

  It was a rhetorical question. Although I had no doubt that we had the soldiers to defeat him it was another matter when it came to the generals. I had seen little evidence of anyone with his ability to lead and to out think his enemies. Our generals had let us down in the colonies and the Low Countries. If it had not been for Nelson and the navy the French would be in London already.

  Chapter 20

  Sergeant Sharp and I headed back to London just five days later. We rode along the London road. When we called in at the Coach and Horses for a drink I was treated like royalty. The landlord insisted on giving us food and ale on the house. The story of the dead highwaymen had increased his trade and I, of course, had put money in his pocket.

  We stabled the horses close to Horse Guards and then went to Fortnum and Masons. Mr Fortnum was delighted to see me. “Captain Dinsdale is due in port tomorrow. I believe he has no cargo to take back to Sicily. I think the contract would be most welcome. I will draw up the papers.”

  “Good. I will speak with my contact and find the details.”

  Colonel Selkirk was more than happy that we were able to oblige him. For the first time since I had known him he appeared worried. He espoused the same sentiments as Colonel Fenton. “I don’t know who is going to stop this friend of yours, you know. I have been asking around and there are only a few men who might have the potential to beat him: Sir John Moore, Rowland Hill, Arthur Wellesley. The thing is none of them have fought the French yet. Still that is my problem.”

  He handed me a sheet of paper. “Here is the order. Timber from Copenhagen. I have left the amount blank.” He looked up at me. “Try not to make it too ridiculous a figure eh? You don’t want to kill the golden goose.”

  We stayed at the inn near the river. I had told Sergeant Sharp about the attempt on my life and my suspicions about the DeVeres. “I’ll keep my eyes open, sir. I’ll watch your back.” Sharp knew the brothers as well as I did and he would be able to identify them quickly.

  We waited, the next day, by the river. We watched every ship coming to dock at the huge port. Captain Dinsdale would arrive, that much we knew, but we had no way of predicting the time. It was late aft
ernoon when I recognised the ship making its way up the river to the quayside. We knew the berth for it was the only empty one that we could see.

  His crew recognised me and they shouted to the captain. “Well, Mr Matthews, I am guessing this is urgent or you would not be here.”

  “It is, Captain Dinsdale.”

  As soon as the ship was tied up and the gangplank lowered we boarded the ship. I showed Captain Dinsdale, the contract and his eyes widened. “This is a licence to print money. They must want you in Denmark urgently.”

  “There will be no danger to you or your crew. In the time it takes to load your cargo I can do what I need to do and then we return here.”

  He laughed, “The danger does not worry me. For this sort of profit I would sail up the Seine. Besides, Captain Matthews, you own half of this ship. I will throw the dice with you once again. We normally get double six!”

  We changed aboard the ship while the cargo was offloaded. We had to wait until the midnight tide and so Captain Dinsdale let the two watches have a couple of hours ashore; watch on watch.

  As he said to us, while we ate a meal delivered from the inn, “It is not enough time for them to become incapable and yet it will make them feel as though they have had a treat and,” he tapped the side of his nose, “they will not realise that they have not had their pay until we are half way to Denmark.”

  He opened a couple of bottles of Don Cesar’s wine and he asked me of my mission. “This is not a dangerous one, captain. I merely need to gauge the mood of the Danish.”

  He laughed as he mopped up some of the gravy from the steak and ale pie with the freshly baked bread, “Then I can save you a journey. The Danish are more nervous than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. They see the French gobbling up Europe like a chicken with a plate of corn and they wonder when their turn will come.” He wiped his greasy hands on a piece of rope which hung above the table. “The only setback the French have had was when you lads gave him a bloody nose at Maida. Otherwise Bonaparte has had it all his own way.”

  “What you cannot know though, Matthew, is will they join the French or fight them?”

  “They have the biggest fleet now that the French and Spanish have been beaten. That fleet could hurt Britain if it fell into Bonaparte’s clutches. Oh do not get me wrong. I am more than happy to sail to Copenhagen and make a tidy profit at the Government’s expense but I just worry that you will be tempting fate once again.”

  “We will barely have to leave the ship.”

  Matthew looked at Alan and they both shook their heads. Neither believed for a moment that it would be as simple as I made out.

  I had forgotten how cold the North Sea could be, especially in February. We were chilled to the bone. We had dressed from the ship’s slop chest so that we appeared as the other crew. We even helped out on the voyage. I had learned that there was no such thing as a passenger on a merchant ship. You all pulled together for the good of everyone. The winds were not in our favour and it took more than ten days to reach the Skagerrak. We had to pass many Royal Navy ships as well as those of the Danish navy. All appeared suspicious and nervous in equal measure.

  I remember Copenhagen harbour from my previous visits. The houses were right on the harbour wall. They were all old houses and the port looked homely. It was a pretty little town and I liked it. If I had known what was in store for it I might have changed my report.

  I went with Matthew to the warehouse and handed over the order for the timber. It was good timber and vital for the spars and masts of our ships. Although we had not lost many ships at Trafalgar our fleet had suffered much damage and this would go some way to remedying the situation.

  “We’ll take a turn around the town, Captain, while you load the ship.”

  “We’ll sail on the late tide.” He winked at me, “There is no point in hanging around any longer than we have to.”

  The sergeant and I looked like two sailors. There was nothing to distinguish us from any of the others who frequented the port. We walked around the harbour noting, casually, which ships were in port and their nationality. As I had expected there were many British ships as well as Swedish and Russian. It meant that there was a cacophony of languages being spoken and we did not stand out.

  We had plenty of time and so I headed for a bar in a side street just off the harbour to have a drink and listen to the conversation. This might confirm what Captain Dinsdale had said. It was in the area frequented by whores who shouted to us lewdly as we walked by them. Sergeant Sharp seemed happy to be away from their attentions. As I had expected the owner could speak most languages; it was in his interest to do so. After he had brought our drinks I waved around the bar. “Business appears to be good.”

  He waggled his hand back and forth, “It seems that way doesn’t it but,” he lowered his voice, “the French are not far away and there appears to be no one who can stop them. We are a small country with weak army. Who would stop this Bonaparte?”

  I leaned in to him. “Why do you speak quietly? There are no French here.”

  He laughed, “Do not believe it my friend. You are English I can see that but there are others who pretend to be a nationality they are not. They are French spies.”

  I feigned shock and looked around the crowded bar, “What in here?”

  He nodded. “Any of them could be a French spy so be careful what you say.”

  “Two more beers please.”

  We had not finished our first but I wanted to keep him on our side. When we had the beers I led Sharp away to the side of the bar where we could watch others. Sergeant Sharp and I had done this too many times to be careless and so we talked of the ship and what we would do with our bonus when we returned to London.

  A Danish Captain of the Navy entered with another Captain of the Merchant service. They managed to get the table next to us. The captain was not Danish and so they spoke in French. I listened attentively while Sharp rambled on about some fictitious girl he intended to wed at home.

  The Danish captain was speaking. “I am telling you my friend that you Russians are lucky. Even though Napoleon defeated your army your country is too big for him to conquer. All he has to do here is to defeat our militia and he can walk across the whole country in half a day.”

  “Yes but you have a powerful navy. I have seen it. You will be protected.”

  “There are many in the navy who sympathise with the republican ideas of the French.”

  The Russian laughed, “Bonaparte is an Emperor; how is that Republican?”

  “Even so he has shown that he has democratic tendencies. Look at the Ligurian Republic and the Batavian Republic; those nations govern themselves under France’s protection.”

  “It sounds like you have those tendencies too.”

  “No my friend, but I am pragmatic. I will go with whoever rules but tell me can you take my little chest with you?”

  “Of course, my friend, I will secure it in St Petersburg. No matter who invades your nest egg will be safe with me.”

  The Captain seemed relieved, “Good. Let me get it for you.”

  They stood and left. I had heard enough and I would be able to write a comprehensive report for Colonel Selkirk on the voyage home. It had been one of the easiest missions I had ever had to do and I left the bar feeling happy. I had forgotten the long nights this far north and when we emerged it was dark. The whores were busy inside with customers and the street appeared deserted.

  “Come on Alan let’s get back to the ship. We don’t want to be late.”

  Before we reached the water two men stepped out in front of us. It was then I realised how deserted and how badly lit was the street. One of the men held a cudgel in his hand which he tapped against his palm. The other was better dressed with a short sword in his scabbard. We stopped and I glanced behind us. There were two more men there. They both held wicked looking cudgels. I held up my hands, “We want no trouble and we have only a little money.”

  The man in front of me
took out his sword. He looked like less of a thug than the one with the cudgel. He spoke to me in French. “Why not speak French. You appeared to understand it in the bar.”

  I went cold. This man was French. He was one of the French spies. This was no common assault. He wanted to question us. I lowered my hands. “I understand French, what of it? You speak French and you understand English, what does that make you?”

  I slipped my right hand behind my back and under my jacket as I spoke. My fingers found the handle of the stiletto. Sergeant Sharp also had a long lethal knife. We would not be taken without a fight. I pointedly reached into my pocket. “Look we have a little money.” As I reached inside my pocket I stepped forward to get me closer to the pair of them. Sharp took a step back. He would deal with the two behind. The one with the sword, the dangerous one, and cudgel man were mine.

  He laughed, “I do not want your money. I want what is in your head.”

  I had a handful of coins and I opened my palm to show them. The man with the cudgel stared at them. Taking another step forward I threw them in his face and, when he put his hands up for protection I slashed his throat with my knife. The man with the sword was taken by surprise but he slashed with his sabre. It was a wicked looking weapon and I had to pull back to avoid being eviscerated. I grabbed his hand with my left hand and kneed him hard in the thigh as I brought the stiletto over and round. He half crumpled allowing me to stab him in the ribs. I twisted the sharp blade as it went in, sliding between his ribs. When I withdrew it I saw the red bubbles already coming from his mouth. I had punctured his lungs.

  I whipped around picking up his sword in my left hand. One of the two men Sharp had been fighting lay in a pool of blood but, as I turned the second thug swung his cudgel and caught Sergeant Sharp on the side of the head. I threw the sabre and it spun in the air and then stuck in his chest. He had a surprised expression on his face as he fell to the ground, dead.