by G. A. Henty
The visit was, indeed, extended two days beyond that time; for the count and countess so pressed him that he was glad to give way, especially as his own inclinations strongly seconded their entreaties. On the ninth morning he was astonished when his bedroom door opened and Karl came in, and gave his morning’s salute as impassively as if he had seen him the evening before.
“Why, Karl!” he exclaimed, “where do you spring from—how did you know that I was here—when did you arrive?”
“I arrived last night, major, but as it was late we went straight to the stable.”
“Who is we, Karl?”
“The count’s messenger, sir. He reached me at Erfurt, where I was with Captain Lindsay, four days ago; and I started with him half an hour later. He had set out from here with a led horse, and had ridden through with but one night in bed; and we had changes of horses, coming back. And Tartar is in good condition, major. I led him all the way down.”
“That is most kind and thoughtful of the count,” Fergus exclaimed, as he began to dress.
“Well, I am heartily glad to see you again, Karl. I was by no means sure that you had got off safely at Hochkirch. I looked round for you, directly I had been captured; but could see nothing of you, and knew not whether you had ridden off, or had been killed by that volley that finished poor Turk, and brought about my capture.”
“It was a bad business, major, and I have never forgiven myself that I was not by your side; but the thing was so sudden that I was taken altogether by surprise. My horse was grazed with a bullet, and what with that and the sudden flash of fire, he bolted. I had just caught sight of you and Turk, going down in a heap, as my horse spun round; and it had galloped a full hundred yards before I could check it.
“Then I did not know what was best to do. It seemed to me that you must certainly be killed. If I had been sure that you had been wounded and taken prisoner I should have gone back; but even then I might, more likely than not, have been shot by the Austrians before I could explain matters. But I really thought that you were killed; and as, from the shouting and firing, it seemed to me that the enemy had it all their own way there, I rode back to the farmhouse.
“Luckily the Austrians had not got there, so I took Tartar and rode with him to the king’s quarters, and left him with his grooms, who knew him well enough; and then later on, having nothing else to do, I joined Seidlitz, and had the satisfaction of striking many a good blow in revenge for you.
“Late in the afternoon when the fighting was over I found Captain Lindsay, and told him about your loss. He comforted me a bit by saying that he did not think you were born to be shot, and said that I had better stay with Donald till there was news about you. Two days later he told me they had got the list of the prisoners the Austrians had taken, and that you were with them, and unwounded.
“Then, major, I was furious with myself that I had not been taken prisoner, too. I should have been more troubled still if Captain Lindsay had not said that, in the first place, Tartar would have been lost if I had not come back straight to fetch him; and that, in the second place, it was not likely you would have been able to keep me with you had I been a prisoner, and we might not even have been shut up in the same fortress.
“I asked him what I had better do, and he said:
“‘I am going west to join Prince Henry. You had better come with me. You may be sure that there will be no questions asked about you, one way or the other. I have no doubt Major Drummond will be back in the spring. He is sure to get out, somehow.’
“It seemed to me that that was the best plan too, major. If I had been sent back to my regiment, I don’t know what I should have done with your horse; and then, if you did return, I might not have heard about it, and you would not have known what had become of me. Once or twice during the last month Captain Lindsay has said to me:
“‘Your master ought to have been here before this, Karl. I quite reckoned on his arriving by the end of March.’
“I said perhaps you had not been able to get out, but he would not hear of it. He said once:
“‘If you were to head up the major in a barrel, he could find a way out of it somehow. He will be back soon.’
“He seemed so positive about it that I was not a bit surprised when the messenger came, and said that you were at the count’s here, and that I was to ride with him post haste, so as to catch you before you started to join the king at Breslau.
“Captain Lindsay was as pleased as I was. He was just mounting when the messenger came in, but wrote a line on the leaf of his pocket book. Here it is, sir.”
The slip of paper merely contained the words:
“A thousand welcomes, my dear Drummond! I have been expecting you for some time. I wish you had turned up here, instead of at Dresden. Hope to see you again soon.”
By this time Fergus had dressed.
“My dear count,” he exclaimed, as he entered the room where the count and his wife and daughter were already assembled, “how can I thank you for your great kindness, in taking such pains to fetch Karl and my horse down for me.”
“I had no great pains about the matter,” the count replied, with a smile. “I simply wrote to my steward that a messenger must be sent to Erfurt, at once; to order Major Drummond’s soldier servant to come here, at all speed, with his master’s horse and belongings.
“‘Make what arrangements you like,’ I said, ‘for relays of horses; but anyhow, he must get to Erfurt in three days, and I will give him four for coming back again with the man. He is to be found at the quarters of Captain Lindsay, who is on the staff of Prince Henry. If Captain Lindsay himself is away, you must find out his servant.’
“That was all the trouble that I had in the matter. You have really to thank Thirza, for it was her idea. Directly you had left the room, after your telling us that Lindsay was with Prince Henry and most likely at Erfurt, she said:
“‘I should think, father, that there would be time to fetch Major Drummond’s servant and horse. It is not so very far, and surely it might be done in a week.’
“‘Well thought of!’ I said. ‘It is a hundred and seventy miles. A courier with relays of horses could do it in three days, without difficulty; and might be back here again, with Drummond’s servant, in another four days. I will give orders at once. We can manage to get Drummond to delay his departure for a day or two.’
“So the thing was done.”
CHAPTER 16
At Minden
On the following day Fergus started, riding the new horse the count had given him, while Karl led Tartar. The journey to Breslau was performed without adventure. He found on arrival that the king had, ten days before, gone to Landshut, round which place a portion of his army was cantoned. At Landshut he commanded the main pass into Bohemia, was in a position to move rapidly towards any point where Daun might endeavour to break through into Silesia, and was yet but a few marches from Dresden, should the tide of war flow in that direction.
Already several blows had been struck at the enemy. As early as the 16th of February, Prince Henry had attacked the Confederate army which, strengthened by some Austrian regiments, had intended to fortify itself in Erfurt, and driven it far away; while the Prince of Brunswick had made a raid into the small Federal states, and carried off two thousand prisoners. Early in March a force from Glogau had marched into Poland, and destroyed many Russian magazines; while on April 13th, the very day on which Fergus arrived at Breslau, Duke Ferdinand had fought a battle with the French army under Broglio, near Bergen. The French, however, were very strongly posted, and Ferdinand was unable to capture their position, and lost twenty-five hundred men, while the French loss was but nineteen hundred.
On the same day Prince Henry crossed the mountains, and destroyed all the Austrian magazines through the country between Eger and Prague—containing food for an army of fifty thousand for five months—captured three thousand prisoners, and burnt two hundred boats collected on the Elbe, near Leitmeritz; and was back again afte
r an absence of but nine days. A fortnight later he was off again, marching this time towards Bamberg, burning magazines and carrying off supplies. He captured Bayreuth and Bamberg, took twenty-five hundred prisoners, and struck so heavy a blow at the little princelings of the Confederacy that he was able to leave matters to themselves in the west, should the king require his aid against Daun or the Russians.
On the 16th of April Fergus arrived at Landshut, and proceeded to the royal quarters. On sending his name to the king, he was at once ushered in.
“So you have returned, Major Drummond,” Frederick said cordially, “and in plenty of time to see the play! Though indeed, I should not be surprised if it is some time before the curtain draws up. I had some hopes that you might rejoin, for after your last escape I doubted whether any Austrian prison would hold you long. I am glad to see you back again.
“Ah! it was a heavy loss, that of our good marshal. None but myself can say how I miss him. He was not only, as a general, one of the best and most trustworthy; but as a friend he was always cheery, always hopeful, one to whom I could tell all my thoughts. Ah! If I had but taken his advice at Hochkirch, I should not have had to mourn his loss.
“It was a heavy blow to you also, Major Drummond.”
“A heavy blow indeed, your Majesty. He was as kind to me as if he had been my father.”
“I will try to supply his place,” the king said gravely. “He died in my service, and through my error.
“For my own sake, I am glad that you are here. You have something of his temperament, and I can talk freely with you, too, whatever comes into my head.”
“I did not know whether I did rightly in coming to report myself direct to you, sire; but your kindness has always been so great to me that I thought it would be best to come straight to you, instead of reporting myself elsewhere, having indeed no fixed post or commander.”
“You did quite right. By the way, Keith’s brother, the Scottish Earl Marischal, is here.”
He touched a bell, and said to the officer who came in:
“Will you give my compliments to Earl Marischal Keith, and beg him to come to me for a few minutes.”
Two minutes later Keith entered—a tall man, less strongly built than his brother, but much resembling him.
“Excuse my sending for you, Earl Marischal,” the king said, “but I wanted to introduce to you your young cousin, Major Drummond; a very brave young officer, as you may well imagine, since he has already gained that rank, and wears our military order of the Black Eagle. He tells me that he has not hitherto met you; but he came over here at your brother’s invitation, was a very great favourite of his, and was deeply attached to him.”
“My brother mentioned you frequently, in his letters to me,” Keith said, holding out his hand to Fergus. “I knew but little of your mother, first cousin as she is; for being ten years older than my brother, she was but a little child in my eyes when I last saw her. Were it not that I am past military work, I would gladly try to fill my brother’s place to you; but if I cannot aid you in your profession, I can at least give you a share of my affection.”
“As to his profession, Keith, that is my business,” the king said. “He saved my life at Zorndorf, and has in so many ways distinguished himself that his success in his career is already assured. He is, by many years, the youngest major in the service; and if this war goes on, there is no saying to what height he may rise.
“He has just returned from an Austrian prison where, as I told you when you joined me, he was carried after Hochkirch. I don’t know yet how he escaped. He must dine with me this evening, and afterwards he shall tell us about it. Mitchell dines with us, also. He, too, is a friend of this young soldier, and has a high opinion of him.”
That evening after dinner Fergus related to the party, which consisted only of the king, Keith, and the British ambassador, how he had escaped from prison.
“The next time the Austrians catch you, Major Drummond,” the king said when he had finished, “if they want to keep you, they will have to chain you by the leg, as they used to do in the old times.”
For months the Prussian and Austrian armies lay inactive. Daun had supposed that, as the king had begun the three previous campaigns by launching his forces into Bohemia, he would be certain to follow the same policy; and he had therefore placed his army in an almost impregnable position, and waited for the king to assume the offensive. Frederick, however, felt that with his diminished forces he could no longer afford to dash himself against the strong positions so carefully chosen and intrenched by the enemy; and must now confine himself to the defensive, and leave it to the Austrians to attempt to cross the passes and give battle. The slowness with which they marched, in comparison with the speed at which the Prussian troops could be taken from one point to another, gave him good ground for believing that he should find many opportunities for falling upon the enemy, when in movement.
It was a long time before the Austrian general recognized the change in Frederick’s strategy, still longer before he could bring himself to abandon his own tactics of waiting and fortifying, and determine to abandon his strongholds and assume the offensive. When July opened he had, by various slow and careful marches, planted himself in a very strong position at Marklissa; while Frederick, as usual, was watching him. Daun was well aware that Frederick, of all things, desired to bring on a battle; but knowing that the Russians, one hundred thousand strong, under Soltikoff, were steadily approaching, he determined to wait where he was, and to allow the brunt of the fighting, for once, to fall on them.
Fergus, by this time, was far away. The long weeks had passed as slowly to him as they had to the king, and he was very glad indeed when, on the 2nd of June, Frederick said to him:
“I know that you are impatient for action, Major Drummond. Your blood is younger than mine, and I feel it hard enough to be patient, myself. However, I can find some employment for you. Duke Ferdinand has now, you know, twelve thousand English troops with him. He has written to me saying that, as neither of his aides-de-camp can speak English, he begs that I would send him an officer who can do so; for very few of the British are able to speak German, and serious consequences might arise from the misapprehension of orders on the day of battle. Therefore I have resolved to send you to him, and you can start tomorrow, at daybreak. I will have a despatch prepared for you to carry to the duke; who of course, by the way, knows you, and will, I am sure, be glad to have you with him. Later on I must send another of my Scottish officers to take your place with him, for I like having you with me. However, at present you are wasting your time, and may as well go.”
“We are off again tomorrow morning, Karl,” Fergus said, in high spirits, as he reached his quarters.
“That is the best news that I have heard since the count’s messenger brought me word, at Erfurt, that you had returned, major. It has been the dullest six weeks we have had since we first marched from Berlin; for while in winter one knows that nothing can be done, and so is content to rest quietly, in spring one is always expecting something, and if nothing comes of it one worries and grumbles.”
“It is a long ride we are going this time, Karl.”
“I don’t care how how long it is, major, so that one is moving.”
“I am going to join the Duke of Brunswick’s staff.”
“That is something like a ride, major,” Karl said in surprise, “for it is right from one side of Prussia to the other.”
“Yes, it is over four hundred and fifty miles.”
“Well, major, we have got good horses, and they have had an easy time of it, lately.”
“How long do you think that we shall take?”
“Well, major, the horses can do forty miles a day, if they have a day to rest, halfway. Your horses could do more, riding them on alternate days; but it would be as much as mine could do to manage that.”
“We must take them by turns, Karl. That will give each horse a partial rest—one day out of three.”
; “Like that they could do it, I should say, major, in about a fortnight.”
They rode first to Breslau, and thence to Magdeburg, passing through many towns on the long journey, but none of any great importance. At Magdeburg they heard that they must make for Hanover, where they would be able to ascertain the precise position of the duke’s army, which was on the northern frontier of Westphalia.
While the French, under the Duke of Broglio, were advancing north from Frankfort-on-Maine; another French army, under Contades, was moving against Ferdinand from the west. As it was probable that there would, at least, be no great battle until the two French armies combined, Fergus, who had already given his horses two days’ complete rest, remained for three days at Magdeburg; as it was likely that he would have to work them hard, when he joined the duke.
Five days later he rode into the Duke of Brunswick’s principal camp, which was near Osnabrueck, where was situated his central magazine.
“I am glad to see you, Major Drummond,” the duke said cordially, when Fergus reported himself. “I thought perhaps the king would select you for the service, and I know how zealous and active you are. I am greatly in need of a staff officer who can speak English, for none of mine can do so.
“I think that we shall have some hard fighting here, soon. You see that I am very much in the position of the king, menaced from two directions. If I move to attack Contades, Broglio will have Hanover entirely open to him; while if I move against him, Contades will capture Muenster and Osnabrueck and get all my magazines, and might even push on and occupy the town of Hanover, before I could get back. So you see, I have nothing to do but to wait in this neighbourhood until I see their designs.
“I have some twelve thousand of your countrymen here, and I rely upon them greatly. We know how they fought at Fontenoy. Splendid fellows they are. There is a Scotch regiment with them, whose appearance in kilts and feathers in no slight degree astonishes both the people and my own soldiers. Their cavalry are very fine, too. They have much heavier horses than ours, and should be terrible in a charge.