Drums of War

Five miles away, dressed in a more manly fashion now, the tapestry-maker sat in the coach with an arm around his daughter. Beatrix was opposite them while Dopff was perched beside the driver. Since there were five of them, Daniel did not push the horse too fast. Nursing him along, he left the main road and plunged off into some woods where they could rest and eat some of the food stored in the coach. The rain had now stopped and the sun was peeping through the clouds. It was a portent of something but Daniel had no idea what it might be.

Chapter Twelve

The Confederate Army was on the move. Now that the campaign season had drawn to an end with an impasse in the Low Countries, it was possible for a large-scale withdrawal of troops to winter quarters. Dutch regiments maintained a presence on the western borders but most British soldiers were pulled back. The long marches taxed the patience and energy of Hugh Dobbs. As soon as they stopped for a rest on their latest journey, he sat down beneath a tree with his back to the trunk. Tom Hillier was with him.

'I hate marching,' said Dobbs. 'I've got delicate feet.'

'You should've joined the cavalry,' advised Hillier.

'I can't ride a horse.'

'It only takes a little practice. I learnt to ride when I was a boy. We had a couple of ponies at the farm.'

Dobbs became reflective. 'I grew up in a small town with nothing to do except fight with the other boys. I was bored, Tom. That's why I was tricked into joining the army. The recruiting sergeant made it sound such an exciting life. When they marched into town with the drums beating, I was the first in the queue to sign up.'

'When did you start to regret it?'

'When I realised I'd have somebody yelling at me all day long.'

'You get used to that.'

'Well, I haven't. Sergeants are all bloody slave-drivers and corporals are not much better.'

Hillier smiled. 'I'll remind you of that when you get promoted.'

'Not me,' said Dobbs. 'I'm not nasty enough and I'd never want the responsibility What about you?'

'I've only been here five minutes,' Hillier reminded him. 'It's far too early to think about promotion of any kind. That's years away. I've learnt to take one day at a time.'

'When we're on the march, they're all the same.'

'What about marching into battle?'

'That is different,' conceded Dobbs. 'The first time I did it, my hands were shaking so much I could hardly hold my drumsticks. I had no idea there'd be so much noise. It was deafening and it went on for hours. The worst part of it was afterwards.'

'Why was that?'

'It was carnage, Tom. The sight of all those dead or dying men made me puke. There were horses, too, hundreds of them scattered across the battlefield, some blown to pieces by cannon. I'd never seen so much blood.'

'It must have been hideous.'

'The stink was terrible. It took days for the burial teams to toss all our casualties into a grave. You could smell the stench from miles away. That's one thing the recruiting sergeant didn't warn us about,' he said, bitterly. 'He reckoned that soldiering was an adventure.'

'It is, Hugh.'

'That's not what I've found.'

'I had an adventure right at the start,' said Hillier. 'Some idiot hid my drum at the top of a tree and I had to climb up to get it.'

Dobbs grinned. 'I still don't know how you managed that. I pulled off all of the lower branches to make it more difficult.'

'I was determined to get it back.'

'You must have had help.'

'No,' said Hillier, 'everybody who walked past simply laughed at me. They thought I'd never climb up there.'

Daniel Rawson's advice had been sound. Because he made no mention of the assistance given by the captain, Hillier had earned the respect of the other drummers. It had taken a fight with Dobbs to win him over completely but they were now good friends. The problem for Hillier was that not all officers were as helpful as Captain Rawson.

"There's one benefit about this marching,' said Hillier.

'I haven't noticed it.'

'Major Cracknell has kept out of my way.'

'That man is a swine, Tom.'

'He's an officer so he'll always have the whip hand over us.'

'He picked on you again and again.'

'I know,' said Hillier, thinking of the punishments he'd endured. 'It was very unpleasant. But I think he's lost interest in me now.'

'Don't believe that for a second.' 'Oh?'

'Cruel bastards like Major Cracknell never give up. That man wants to break you, Tom, and he'll keep chasing after you until he does. I'm sorry,' said Dobbs, 'but you mustn't deceive yourself. The major will be back.'

Now that he'd escaped the cumulative indignities of imprisonment, Emanuel Janssen tried to make light of them in order not to distress his daughter. His claims to have been well treated did not convince Amalia. She could see the change in his appearance. He'd lost weight and looked older. He was pale and drawn with a distant fear in his eyes. Amalia was reminded of a time when her father had been ill and she'd nursed him back to health. She sensed that he'd need even more care to recover from his experience in the Bastille.

'They didn't hurt you in any way?' she asked.

'They took me away from you, Amalia,' he said, 'and nothing could be more painful than that. I spent each and every day worrying about you.'

They were resting in the woods and Janssen was sharing a quiet moment with his daughter. Dopff was as delighted as any of them to see his master and kept glancing across at him to make sure that he really was there. Certain that they'd be caught before they left Paris, Beatrix had been terrified throughout their flight. With the tension suddenly eased, she sobbed incessantly with relief. Lacking the words to console her, Dopff put his arms around her and patted her back. Over her shoulder, he took another look at Janssen and smiled in awe, as if beholding a miracle.

Daniel had left them beside the coach while he walked back to the edge of the woods. Through his telescope, he'd been watching the main road for signs of pursuit. Since the escape would definitely have been discovered by now, he'd expected search parties to be sent out but none appeared on the main road. Daniel concluded that they must have reason to believe the fugitives were still within the city walls. It was a boon to them. Their journey through France would be much easier without a posse on their heels but he was very conscious that other dangers would lie ahead. After a few more minutes, Daniel went back to rejoin the others. Janssen immediately came across to him and shook his hand warmly.

'Amalia has been telling me what you did for them, Captain Rawson,' he said, effusively. 'We're forever in your debt.'

'I did what was expected of me, that's all,' said Daniel.

'You're far too modest. What you achieved beggars belief. The Duke of Marlborough will hear of this.'

'My task is to make sure that you reach him safely.'

'According to my daughter, you can do anything.'

'That's very flattering but quite untrue.'

'Amalia rarely exaggerates, Captain Rawson.'

'I think it wiser if you don't call me that,' said Daniel. 'We're still on French soil. Until we leave it, my name is Marcel Daron.'

'I'll remember that, Monsieur Daron.'

'And, in the event of our being stopped, the rest of you must answer to the names on your forged papers.'

'Does that mean I'm to travel as Mademoiselle Lantin?' asked Janssen with a wry smile. 'Posing as a woman was a new experience for me. I'm glad I didn't have to speak as Emma Lantin.'

'That will be Beatrix's name from now on. We must be on our way,' he continued, raising his voice to address the others. 'We need to put distance between ourselves and Paris.'

Amalia and Beatrix returned to the coach and climbed in. Dopff clambered up on to the driving seat. Before he got into the vehicle, Janssen had a question for Daniel.