Drums of War (33 page)

'In
doing so,' resumed Marlborough, 'we were able to save the Empire from
widespread destruction if not total extinction. It's the reason we're able to
sit here in Vienna. By deceiving Marshal Tallard with regard to our objective,
we secured the most resounding victory of the war. I look for a similar triumph
in Savoy.'

'There'll
be an immediate advantage,' said Daniel. 'You'll be fighting alongside a
brilliant soldier. Prince Eugene has something of your own daring, Your Grace.'

'I
hold him in the highest esteem.'

'You'll
find him more amenable than General Slangenberg.'

'A
wild elephant would be more amenable than Slangenberg,' said Marlborough,
chuckling. 'At least it would charge without having to reconnoitre the
battlefield three times before doing so. No,' he went on, tapping the map,
'Savoy must be the point of attack. It straddles the mountain passes between
Italy and France. When we reinforce Savoy, we open up a gateway into enemy
territory. It may even be possible to use the English navy to secure ports like
Nice and Toulon, allowing a secondary invasion.'

'That
would flutter the dovecotes in Versailles,' said Cardonnel.

'We
must strike hard and strike early, Adam.'

"Thanks
to the intelligence that Daniel passed on from our tapestry-maker with the
sharp ears, we know that the French will concentrate their activities in the
Low Countries.'

'They'll
be ill-prepared for a decisive thrust into northern Italy.' Marlborough saw the
doubt in Daniel's eyes. 'You have reservations, I fancy.'

'None
at all about the boldness of the plan, Your Grace,' said Daniel. 'I admire it.
However, three things worry me.'

'What
are they?'

'First,
there's the problem of getting our army there. It will involve a march through
the length of Germany, across Austria, over the Alpine passes and down into the
Lombardy plains.' His finger described the route on the map. 'At a rough guess,
that must be twice the distance we travelled on our way to the Danube.'

'Another
reason why the French will never imagine we'd attempt such a march. I know what
your second objection is,' Marlborough went on, anticipating him, 'and it's
been voiced before. On such a long journey, how will we keep the army in bread
and forage?'

'It
will place a massive burden on our quartermasters.'

'We
shall have to plan ahead with the utmost care, Daniel.'

'That
brings me to my third worry, Your Grace. The campaign will entail the support
of our allies. Without a concerted attack,' said Daniel, 'we'd not be able to
repel the French. How can we be sure that all contingents will arrive at the
rendezvous together?'

'They
managed it on the march to the Danube last year.'

'Yet
they failed abysmally on the Moselle.'

'They
did,' Marlborough conceded, 'and steps will be taken to prevent a repetition of
that farce. You raise legitimate objections, Daniel, and we've looked at all three
of them. With commitment and organisation, they can all be overcome. Put it
another way,' he said, folding up the map. 'Where would you rather fight? Would
you prefer to be bogged down in the Low Countries with the Dutch or riding into
battle with Prince Eugene of Savoy?'

'I'd
choose Prince Eugene every time,' said Cardonnel.

'So
would I,' added Daniel, brightly. 'Italian wine tastes so much better than
Dutch beer.'

Weeks
rolled by with surprising speed. Daniel's command of German was put to good use
in an endless round of ceremonies, meetings, dinners and balls held in
celebration of Marlborough's visit. From Vienna, they went on to Berlin and
thence to Hanover where the Electress Sophia, struck again by his graciousness,
fawned over him. In diplomatic terms, the tour had been an unqualified success
but it had been exhausting. The year was coming to an end before Daniel
returned to The Hague with the embassy. His first task there was to act as an
interpreter between Marlborough and Anthonie Heinsius, Grand Pensionary of
Holland. A fine statesman, Heinsius still exerted great influence in his
country though his power had declined a little after the death of William III.
He and the commander-in-chief shared an implacable hatred of France's
expansionist policies. There was a deep mutual respect between the two men.

Daniel
had responded to Amalia's letter and couched his reply in the same affectionate
terms that she'd used. Since they were constantly on the move, it was difficult
to maintain a correspondence with her and he hoped for a chance to see Amalia
when they got back to Holland. All that he contrived was a flying visit to
Amsterdam but it was enough to show him that her feelings for him had not
changed. On his part, he thought she looked more beautiful than ever. Being
with her father in the safety of their own home had removed all her anxiety.
She was happy, relaxed and enchanting.

'What
time do you sail for England?' she asked.

'We
leave on the morning tide, Amalia.'

'When
will you be back?'

'Not
until the spring,' he said.

'That's
months away,' she protested.

'It
will soon pass.'

'What
will you do in England?'

'Oh,
I think His Grace will have plenty of work for me.'

'Will
you promise to write?'

'Only
if you promise to reply,' he insisted.

'Please
hurry back, Daniel. I'll miss you.'

'You
could always visit me in England.'

'Father
needs me here,' she said, resignedly.

Daniel
put a hand under her chin to lift it up. 'I, too, have my needs,' he said,
stealing a kiss. "Think of me often.'

'Will
you be staying in London?'

'That
depends on His Grace,' he explained. 'But the first place I'll visit is
Somerset.'

'Why?'

'I
have to pay my respects, Amalia.'

Though
the return voyage to England was uncomfortable, it had none of the horrors
they'd encountered on their earlier crossing to Holland. Daniel was glad to
step back on to British soil again. As soon as he could, he rode off in the
direction of the West Country. Long hours in the saddle were taken up with
contemplation. He missed Amalia, he thought about Henry Welbeck and he wondered
how Tom Hillier was now faring. Not for the first time, he speculated on what
would have happened if he and Major Cracknell had not been interrupted when
they came close to exchanging blows. His worry was that, in trying to defend
Hillier, he'd only made it more likely that the drummer would be singled out
again for punishment. There was nothing he could do about that now.

Somerset
was sprinkled with snow and spangled with frost. Its wintry prettiness was
belied by a gusting wind that made his hat flap about and an icy track that
caused his horse's hooves to slide from time to time. By adopting a cautious
pace, he eventually reached the village and went straight to its church. The
graveyard was dusted with white and the ground as hard as iron. Daniel was only
a boy when he buried his father there. Captain Nathan Rawson had been one of
the many rebels taken captive and hanged after the battle of Sedgemoor.
Sneaking up to the gallows at night, Daniel and some friends had cut down the body
and given it a hasty burial in consecrated ground. As he'd done most of the
digging, Daniel remembered how soft the earth had been in July.

Since
it was an unauthorised burial, they had hidden Nathan Rawson's last remains in
a grave tucked away in a corner. It was several years before his son was able
to return and, after explaining the situation to the priest, secure a proper
Christian burial in the place where Nathan had once been baptised. Every time
he came to England, Daniel made a pilgrimage to the site. The same bitter
memories were resurrected. His father had been a valiant soldier who'd made the
mistake of fighting for the wrong side. When the rebel army was routed, his
fate was sealed and so was that of his farm. Under the threat of eviction, Daniel
and his mother had loaded some belongings on to a cart and driven to the coast
to take ship to Amsterdam.

Daniel
reached out to brush the snowflakes from the headstone. His father's name had
been chiselled in the stone along with the date of his death. Few people now
remembered the blatant savagery of his execution and the public mortification
attending it. His had been one of countless bodies that swung in the wind that
summer. Nathan had met his end fearlessly. Daniel had been inspired by that. In
his eyes, his father was no mere rebel but a hero prepared to fight for what he
truly believed in. There was dignity in that.

He
knelt beside the grave for a long time, pulling out weeds that had sprouted up
since his last visit and clearing away the twigs that had been blown on to it.
Before he rose to leave, he offered up his usual prayer for the salvation of
his father's soul. A bond had been renewed. His visit to the past was over.
Daniel rode slowly away from the village, his sorrow fringed with a strange
feeling of pride. It stayed with him all the way back to London.

The
Duke of Marlborough spent the winter months in the company of his beloved wife,
Sarah, bemoaning his long absences and assuring her that the end of the war might
be in sight if his calculations were proved to be correct. Details of his
strategy were discussed at length with his inner circle, Daniel Rawson among
them. Plans were put in place to guarantee that there would be adequate
provisions for a large army on a longer march than had ever before been
attempted during the war. Marlborough was brimming with confidence. He had the
support of Queen Anne and of his close friend, Sidney Godolphin, Lord Treasurer
and skilful manipulator of Parliament. Everything boded well for the new
offensive.

Unfortunately,
it was the French army that seized the initiative.

While
the commander-in-chief of the Confederate armies was refining his strategy in
England in April, 1706, a strong French force under Marshal Vendôme defeated a
Hapsburg army at Calcinato in northern Italy. Instead of deploying his armies
in defensive positions as he was wont to do, Louis XIV elected to engage the
enemy. Marlborough and his staff crossed to The Hague almost a week later to be
met by delay, disappointment and confusion. The Dutch had welcomed the idea of
reinforcing Italy from the north. Once they realised that Marlborough intended
to go there in person, they feared that he'd weaken their defences in doing so
and render them vulnerable to attack.

Dutch
vacillation was followed by a blank refusal to cooperate from other quarters.
The Danish, Hessian, Hanoverian and Prussian commanders reneged on their
earlier undertakings and withheld their support. The prospect of taking the war
to Italy frightened them. It was a crushing setback for Marlborough, made worse
by the fact that the careful preparations needed for a sustained march were
well short of completion. There had been a woeful lack of urgency in setting up
depots. It was as bad as in the previous year. Marlborough was furious and
dismayed. It was almost as if his allies were deliberately holding him back.
Though he tried to rectify the situation with commendable energy, it was an
impossible task. The strategy he'd nurtured for so many months was now in
danger of falling apart.

The
final crippling blow came early in May. With great secrecy, Marshal Villars and
Marshal Marsin had prepared an offensive against the position held in Alsace by
the Margrave of Baden. They took the Imperialist troops by surprise and
captured Haguenau, forcing Baden's men to retreat in disarray across the Rhine.
The fortress of Landau, which had changed hands many times, was under siege
once more. The dramatic change in French tactics had been rewarded. In Alsace,
as in northern Italy, signal victories had been secured. It was an ideal start
to the new campaign. At the same time, it was a declaration of intention.
France was on the attack.

Daniel
was at his side when Marlborough received a dispatch, telling him of the Allied
defeat in Alsace. All hope of marching to Italy vanished. His bold plan would
never be put into operation. They were back where they had been the previous
year, losing ground to the enemy and compelled to restrict their activities to
the Low Countries. Overcoming his frustration, Marlborough adapted swiftly to
the change of perspective. He even found cause for optimism.

'Our
intelligence from Versailles was inaccurate,' he said. 'The King has realised
that you can only win a battle if you engage with the enemy. If he's ready to
sanction an attack, we don't have to provoke the French any longer. They'll
come at us of their own volition.'

'That
will make a change, Your Grace,' said Daniel.

'It's
a very welcome change.'

'What's
brought it about, do you think?'

'King
Louis wished to remind the Dutch of his power,' said Cardonnel. 'We know from
our spies that he secretly offered peace to the States-General during the
winter. Naturally, he wishes it to be negotiated on his terms. By securing
these early triumphs in Italy and Alsace, he's sending a message to The Hague.'