by Griff Hosker
I smiled, “Nothing, save information.”
“Whatever I know then I will tell you, sir.”
“Then tell me all you know about London.” He looked at me as though I had spoken French. “I have spent more time abroad than in London. You know how it is, Jenkins. When you are campaigning abroad local knowledge is important. Who runs this town? Where should we avoid?”
He looked relieved, “Then I am your man, sir.”
It proved a useful investment. I learned about the gangs who controlled not only the drinking establishments but also the ordinary merchants of London. Mr Hudson had intimated to me that there was some sort of gang operating around the more popular merchants and ships. Gangs would gather outside and intimidate customers. If money was paid then the streets were kept clear. I also learned about some of the lords and ladies who were powerful in the city. I was not sure if the information would be of much use but I stored it anyway. I had operated as a spy long enough to know that no knowledge was useless.
I ordered another beer for Jenkins and two rums for us. I gave our unsmoked pipes to him. He would enjoy them later. I took out twenty shillings. I could have proffered a guinea but Jenkins would have found it hard to hide and then spend such a large denomination coin. The twenty shillings could be secreted about his person easily. I pushed them across to him.
“What’s this for, sir?” He looked a little hurt. “You have paid me with the ale and the food, not to mention the pipes. I don’t need charity!”
“And this isn’t charity. I want you to work for me.”
His face relaxed, “What sort of work, sir?”
“We are staying in Wells Street. I want you to follow us while we are in London. I want to know if anyone takes an interest in us. What do you say?”
“Are you worried about someone then, sir?”
I shrugged, “Let us just say that I have made enough enemies to fear a knife in the night. You are a Londoner and you would blend in. You know who is dangerous and who is not. If you don’t recognise the ones who take an interest in us then that means danger for us.”
He looked relieved, “I can do that, sir.”
I stood, “And it may be that, sometime in the future, I may have a position for you. I have someone looking out for a property for me. When I get one, I shall need a caretaker, someone I can trust.”
“That would be perfect sir only…”
“Only what, Jenkins?”
“If you are going off to fight again then…”
I laughed, “They say I am lucky. Let us hope, for all our sakes, that it continues.”
“Amen to that, sir!”
Sharp and I were wary when we stepped into the cold night air. We had eaten enough and stayed in the tavern long enough so that our senses were not dulled by drink. We were not followed. We checked on our horses and then went to our rooms. Once in our new chambers, Sergeant Sharp asked, “Do we really need Rafe Jenkins to watch our backs, sir?”
“I hope not but for a few shillings, we know there are a pair of eyes looking out for danger. Don’t forget that Boney knows I am still alive. He is a vindictive little man and I would not put it past him to send an assassin. I will be happier when I know who it is will be giving the orders!”
The next day we left for the various errands we had to run. Jenkins thought he had done a good job of hiding himself but I spotted him. Most people would have failed to see him but I was looking for him. We strode towards the river. We had heard people in the streets since before dawn. London was a major city. It was a city of commerce and trade. In offices, men were trading goods and money. The East India Company and the Hudson Bay Trading Company both ran powerful empires. London was at their heart.
There were many other soldiers in London. Since the retreat to Corunna and the disaster that had been the Low Countries, Britain had more soldiers at home than for many years. Some officers would be seeking commissions and others seeking promotion. I might be unique. I had been summoned and that meant someone wanted me. The man who had summoned us was the Military Secretary, a close friend of the Prince Regent as well as the Duke of York, General Sir James Willoughby Gordon. I had never met the man but I had heard of him. His active service had been in Madeira and his last service in a regiment had been fourteen years earlier. When I had mentioned his name to the Colonel, he had dismissed him as a fawning fop. In a way that heartened me for it would be unlikely that I would be given one of my usual dangerous assignments. Strangely, it was Rafe Jenkins who gave us some unexpected information. The mistress of Prince Frederick, Mary Anne Clarke, had been summoned to Parliament. She had admitted to selling, illegally, commissions. I had not heard of this but if it was true then General Sir James Willoughby Gordon’s days as Military Secretary were numbered for he was a close ally of the Prince Regent and their fortunes were bound together.
We arrived at his office early. We had been summoned for ten o’clock. While we waited, we went to look across the river towards Lambeth Palace. It was as we turned that my heart sank for I saw, emerging from the building, Colonel Selkirk. That did not bode well. The Colonel always brought with him danger and intrigue. I had had enough of the latter.
Chapter 2
Sergeant Sharp shook his head, “Bloody hell, sir! I hope he was seeing someone else!”
“As do I, Sergeant. Let us not jump to conclusions. This is the War Office and the Colonel is an important man. It may just be a coincidence.”
“Aye sir, believe that if you like but I wouldn’t bet on it.”
To be fair to the Military Secretary, we were not kept waiting for much above a half hour. In my experience that was nothing. He was a large man. He looked florid and I had the impression that he liked both food and wine in equal measure. The fact that I could smell it on his breath confirmed my suspicions.
“Major Matthews, I have heard good things about you. The reports sent back from Sir John Moore extolled your many virtues and Sir Arthur Wellesley has asked for you in person.” He picked up a piece of paper. “Here is your commission. You are to be one of Sir Arthur’s aides.”
I nodded and took the paper, “And where will Sir Arthur be serving, my lord?”
“Why Spain and Portugal, of course.” He leaned forward, “This is not common knowledge at the moment. Mr Ponsonby, in the House, is trying to stir up trouble by asking for an enquiry into the wart in Portugal. It will come to nothing. Lord Castlereagh will see to that.” Lord Castlereagh was the Secretary of War and the Colonies. More importantly, I had heard that he was a good friend of Sir Arthur Wellesley. “Now that the enquiry has found Sir Arthur innocent, he can be sent back to complete the task he so effectively began. He should never have had to come to England! Sir John would still be alive!”
I thought that was a little unfair. It made Sir John seem inferior to Sir Arthur and he was anything but. I said nothing. This was London and politics played as much a part in life in the War Office as military matters.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Sir Arthur will be in residence at his brother’s house tomorrow. You know where that is?” Thanks to Rafe Jenkins I did and I nodded. “That gives you a day to yourself.” He smiled, “See London!”
I said, drily, “I have seen it before, my lord. Tell me, Sir James, when does Sir Arthur leave for Iberia?”
Worryingly the Military Secretary looked blank. He smiled, “In the fullness of time you will be told. Now if you will excuse me, Major, I have many pressing matters.”
We were dismissed. Sergeant Sharp was beaming as we left, “I was wrong, sir. Colonel Selkirk is not involved at all!”
I was not so sure but I did not wish to dishearten my sergeant, “It appears not but we both know that Sir Arthur is a hard taskmaster.”
“Aye sir, but he knows one end of a musket from another. We have both seen generals who did not!”
We headed for Mr Hudson’s offices. I was aware of our shadow but I doubted that any of the others who thronged the thoroughfares of L
ondon would have noticed the man who followed us. I saw a fine carriage outside the agent’s house. The liveried coachmen told me that it was a lord. Mr Hudson was busy and so Jennings entertained us while he dealt with the important customer. The lord was an influential man. I could tell that from the way Mr Hudson fawned when the lord and his lady emerged. That was not like Mr Hudson. He was his own man. The lord and lady barely acknowledged our uniforms as they swept out.
When he returned, Mr Hudson looked relieved. “Sorry you had to wait. Jennings, fetch us some refreshments. I need them!” Once in his room, he composed himself. He saw the curiosity upon my face and smiled, “Lord and Lady Ferrers. They have recently arrived in England. He has lands in the colonies. Apparently, he has been selling off his American properties and consolidating his holdings in England. The British are not popular there. He is not only rich, but he is also powerful. He has bought a fine house in Piccadilly. It is not far from the home of the Earl of Coventry. He is holding a ball in a week to which the great and the good will be invited. Your cousin will profit greatly from the business.” Jennings brought in the refreshments. “Now then, what can I do for you today?”
“We are at a loose end today and I thought to speak with you further about a property.”
His face became animated, “It is strange that you should visit so quickly. Last night I was at my club.” I cocked an eye. I had not seen Mr Hudson as a club member. He shrugged, “It is a way to meet men of influence. The club has members who have positions in the city. One of them mentioned that there is a farm which lies not far from Tottenham Court. Bilson’s farm lies north of the turnpike. The farm is run down. The last owner drank away the profits and it has been left empty for twenty years or more. The agent was bemoaning the fact that is was too far from the centre of London to attract the right sort of buyer. We could buy it cheaply.”
“Would it be possible for us to arrange a visit?”
He nodded, “I am busy today and tomorrow but the day after would be convenient and I could speak with Charles and express your interest.”
“And can I afford it, Mr Hudson? It seems to me that if it is run down and derelict then it would take money to rebuild.”
“And that is the beauty, my lord. There are many men seeking employment as labourers. The losses in Iberia put many off joining the army and the losses from Trafalgar make the sea less attractive. It is cheaper to rebuild than to refurbish. We could have plans drawn up and as building materials are also at lower prices then you could easily afford it. It would be an investment and a safe one at that. Bricks and mortar are always a sound place to keep your coin.” He sounded convincing.
We headed back to Wells Street. I gave a slight nod behind me as we entered the door. Jenkins would know we were done for the day. We went through the house to the stables in the yard and saw to our horses and I asked Mary if she would wash some of our clothes for us. I paid her. She had three serving girls and I daresay she would delegate the task to one of them. I think the two of them enjoyed our company for many of the guests they entertained were not English. Cesar Alpini allowed travellers from his homeland to use it. George and Mary were simple folk and they did not understand what Mary called, ‘foreign ways’. I wonder what Mary would have thought if she had known that I was half French!
That evening we found Jenkins waiting for us in the Lion and the Lamb. I saw that he had acquired some better clothes. They looked to be second hand but newer. He was putting my money to good use. I saw no sign of the three men with whom we had had a run in and the landlord rushed over to us as soon as we entered. He recommended the roast beef with Yorkshire pudding and so I ordered it.
“Well Jenkins, how was your day?”
“Interesting sir. You gentlemen were followed from the river. It was an old soldier like me. He looked like a Gordon Highlander. He had the cap you see.”
“I didn’t notice him.”
“No sir, he was good. Not as good as me, sir, he didn’t spot me.” He laughed. “He thought I was a beggar. When you were in Mr Hudson’s I asked him for a light for my pipe. He gave me a plug of baccy.”
“And when we returned here?”
“He headed towards Piccadilly. I followed him and he went into a house off Swallow Street. The doorman was an ex-soldier too. He had the look of a sergeant major about him.”
“You have done well. Tomorrow we go to the house of Sir Arthur Wellesley, or at least the house he uses. I believe it is his brother’s.”
“Number One London, eh sir? Easy to find but hard to watch.”
“Don’t watch us tomorrow. Watch for the Gordon Highlander, eh? When you see him then follow him.”
Sir Arthur was a stickler for protocol. He was a snob. Everything had to be just right. We had worn our overalls up to now. For Sir Arthur, we wore our best uniform. I made certain that both of us were well presented as we mounted our horses and rode towards Aspley House. “You have served with Sir Arthur, Sergeant, you will be with what Sir Arthur considers the servants. You know the drill. Keep your eyes and ears open and watch out for Gordon Highlanders.”
“Yes, sir.” Alan would not be put out by the snub. I shared all information with my sergeant.
The house belonged to Sir Arthur’s brother. However, as the temporary home of the most successful English general, it was guarded by servants who could double as soldiers if it was necessary. Our uniforms gained us immediate entry. Of Jenkins, there was not a sign but I was confident that he would secrete himself somewhere safe.
We were taken by a Lieutenant to an antechamber. He wore the uniform of the 33rd, Wellington’s old regiment. “If you would wait here, sir, the general is with a visitor.”
“Of course, Lieutenant…?”
“Dighton, sir, Lieutenant Dighton.” I saw him look at Sergeant Sharp and wonder why I had not left him outside. I did not offer any explanation and he went into the room.
We were left alone and without refreshments. It was a well-decorated and furnished room but it looked to have been furnished by someone who did not share the general’s simple taste. The curtains and the cushions were elaborate and floral. Sir Arthur liked things to be plain. While other generals wore uniforms which were festooned with gold, Sir Arthur preferred a plain blue coat and simple cocked hat
The door opened and the Lieutenant came out, “Major, the General will see you now.”
When I entered my heart sank. There was Colonel Selkirk smoking a cigar. He beamed at me. Knowing that Sir Arthur liked order he did not speak. This explained his presence at the Miliatary Secretary’s! The General did not smile but his usual scowl was missing. I took that to be a good sign. “Major, you survived, well done!” I bowed. “You know Colonel Selkirk, I believe.”
I nodded, “Yes sir, we have crossed paths before now.”
“Sir, I beg you to sit!” I did as I was ordered. As was his wont the general went directly into the purpose of the meeting. “You are a rough sort of fellow, Matthews, and if I had a daughter I would keep her well away from you, but you know the business of soldiering. I have seconded you from the 11th. You will be one of my aides for the coming campaign.” He stood and went to a cloth which covered what I had taken to be a painting. He revealed a map of Spain and Portugal. “We are going back to the Spanish Peninsular. But for those fools, Burrard and Dalrymple, I would not have to go back. Cintra!” He waved a hand as though to exorcise the ghost of that disastrous treaty. “The Colonel is here because he will be serving under me as well. Between you, I want to know as much about the enemy and the land as possible. You are a damned fine scout, Matthews. Selkirk here is as sneaky a Scotsman as I have ever met!”
The Colonel gave a mock bow, “I take that as a compliment, Sir Arthur.”
“You have language skills, Matthews, and they will be needed but more than that, you have a good eye for terrain and understand strategy better than most. I want you to copy this map and study it. There are gaps and, when we get to Spain, then you will fill them. There
are features here which may stop a column of guns or they may not. That is why I need you. I want a battle and I need to beat the French, decisively! Roliça and Vimeiro were skirmishes, nothing more.”
“And Bonaparte, sir, is he still there?”
Sir Arthur looked at Colonel Selkirk who shook his head, “He has left Soult in Portugal and he has gone to Austria.” He smiled, “He believes this little adventure is ended! Sir Arthur will be a rude awakening.”
“Hrmph, Selkirk, do not get ahead of yourself. Thanks to the debacle in the Low Countries we are seriously short of troops.” He looked at me. “We have less than two and half thousand cavalrymen, Matthews.”
I looked at Colonel Selkirk, “And the French cavalry?”
“Almost ten thousand.” He smiled, “We will be outnumbered four to one in that area.”
Sir Arthur shook his head, “Do not worry about the cavalry, Matthews. Unlike you, most of them are better suited to be hunting foxes and shouting ‘view halloo.’ No, it will be muskets and bayonets backed by artillery which will decide this war. Our lines against their columns.” He looked at me, “You have just a few hours to copy the map. Is there anything else?”
“Horses, sir. Iberia will eat horses. Have we enough mounts?”
“For you and your fellow?”
“Yes, sir. We need local horses.”
He rubbed his chin, “A good point. I was not there long enough to judge but you may well be right. What do you think, Selkirk?”
“Damned good idea, sir. I will have one of my chaps go and buy some.”
I shook my head, “With respect, Colonel, if I am going to ride them then I want to buy them.”
“As you wish. Of course, it means sailing before the General and the rest of the army.”
“That is not a problem, Colonel.”
“Then we sail in two weeks’ time from Portsmouth. We are heading for Lisbon. Present yourself there in exactly fourteen days’ time.” He stood. “And now, Sir Arthur, I should leave. I have much to do.”