Soldier of Fortune (19 page)

They moved fast.
Even though he limped, Frédéric Seurel could cover the ground at speed when
necessary. Charles Catto led the way, using the trees as cover and zigzagging
to confuse any pursuit. They heard raised voices behind them and kept running
until they were out of earshot. The only time they had to hide was when
horsemen came galloping in search of them. Concealed in the bushes, they
watched the soldiers ride past and took the opportunity to catch their breath.

'Have you gone
mad!' exclaimed Catto, hitting his companion. 'Why ever did you fire your
pistol like that?'

'I couldn't
resist it,' said Seurel. 'He escaped me in that tent and I wasn't going to let
him get away from me again.'

'But that's
exactly what he did. You not only missed him, you roused the camp and turned us
into fugitives.'

'I'm sorry,
Charles.'

'You gave the
game away, you fool.'

'We've spent
months on his tail without even a sighting of him then he walks within range of
my pistol. I
had
to take a shot at him.'

'I should never
have let you bring the weapon.'

'The general
wants him dead, doesn't he?' argued Seurel. 'That's what we were sent to do -
kill Daniel Rawson.'

'And obtain
proof
of his death,'
said Catto, punching him hard once again. 'How could we do that when we were
running for our lives? It's not enough to tell General Salignac that we shot
him dead. He'll insist on proof that Rawson died at
our
hands and not
in battle.'

'I acted on
instinct.'

'Then your
instincts, as usual, were wrong.'

'It was too good
a chance to miss, Charles. He was there, right in front of us, unguarded,
completely unaware of us.'

'He's certainly
aware of it now,' said Catto ruefully. 'When your shot alerted the sentries, it
alerted Captain Rawson as well. He
knows
that someone is after him now. We'll never get near him again.'

'That's why I
had to seize the opportunity.'

'Seize it and
waste
it, Frédéric -
for the second time.'

'I would have
killed him if he hadn't bent over like that. How was I to know that that woman
would faint in his arms? She's the person to blame for this, not me.'

'On the
contrary,' said Catto thoughtfully, 'we may yet live to thank her. In
collapsing like that at a critical moment, she may have saved Rawson but she
may also have saved our skins. Don't you understand?' he went on as Seurel
looked puzzled. 'If we'd gone to the general and told him that you shot Rawson
but we have no evidence to prove it, he'd have thought we were trying to cheat
him.'

'Wouldn't he
take your word for it, Charles?'

'No, he needs
proof that he can dangle it in front of his wife. He wants to torment her with
the thought that she was responsible for the death of her lover. If he tells
her that Rawson was shot by a hired assassin, Madame Salignac may think he's
inventing the story in order to make her writhe with guilt. Evidence is
crucial.'

'Then we've
failed,' said Seurel miserably. 'I was too eager.'

'All may not yet
be lost.'

'I'll do
anything
to make up for
it.'

'There could be
way to trap him,' said Catto, 'and it will be much safer than trying to kill
him in the camp. Rawson's luck can't last forever. We know his weak spot now.'

'Do we,
Charles?'

'You saw her as
clearly as I did. She was a pretty little thing and she means a lot to him if
he takes time off from his duties to stroll along the edge of the camp with
her. That's the way to get him,' he concluded. 'We have to look to the lady.'

When the shot
rang out, Daniel Rawson had lowered Abigail Piper gently to the ground and lain
flat beside her. His eyes searched the bushes on the other side of the stream
but he could see nothing. What he could hear was the sound of feet making a
hasty departure. After a few moments, sentries came running to investigate.
Daniel told them what had happened and sent two of them wading across the
stream. He instructed one of the remaining men to dispatch riders in search of
the interlopers. Muskets at the ready, the last few sentries guarded his back
as he carried Abigail to safety. When he set her down beside a tent, he
dismissed the men and attended to her.

His immediate
impulse had been to pursue whoever had been hiding in the bushes but he could
not leave Abigail in that state. She was slowly regaining full consciousness.
Her head moved and one eye opened. She became aware that she was on the ground.

'What happened?'
she asked in alarm.

'You fainted,
Abigail.'

'Did I?'

'Yes,' he told
her, 'it's probably a result of fatigue. You've been under the most immense
strain for several weeks.'

'Help me up,
please.'

'Sit up first,
until you feel well enough to stand.'

'How long was I
lying there?' she said, as he eased her up into a sitting position. 'I do
apologise, Daniel. What must you think of me?'

'I think that
you need to rest.'

'I can't
remember a thing.'

'Don't even try
to,' he advised. 'Just get your strength back.'

He was relieved
that she had not heard the pistol shot and had no intention of telling her
about it. She was already frightened at the thought of his taking part in a
Forlorn Hope. If she knew that he was the target for an unseen assassin as
well, she would be horror-stricken. What the attack proved to Daniel was that
he had been right about the murder of Lieutenant Richard Hopwood. The
designated target had, in fact, been Daniel himself and the killer had returned
to make a second attempt on his life. He chided himself for walking so freely
in the open and for exposing Abigail to unnecessary danger as well. The bullet
that missed him could easily have hit her instead.

'I'm feeling
much better now,' she said, embarrassed by what had occurred. 'I do apologise,
Daniel. I've never done that before.'

'Let me help you
up.' Holding her under the arms, he lifted her to her feet and kept a
restraining hand on her. 'How is that?'

'I'm fine now,
thank you.'

'Good,' he said,
releasing her but standing close in case she fainted again. 'I'm afraid that
your lovely dress has some stains on it.'

'Emily will soon
get rid of those.'

'I'll escort you
back to her and explain what
—
'

'No, no,' she
said, interrupting him. 'There's no need for Emily to know about this. I'd
rather it was kept private.'

'Very well,' he
agreed. 'Does that mean there'll be no mention of this in your diary? I thought
you recorded everything.'

'We'll see,
Daniel.'

'Are you able to
walk now?'

'Of course.'

'Then I'll
escort you back.'

Abigail was a
little unsteady at first but he did not have to support her as they walked
through the camp. As her mind cleared, she began to recall a few details.

'I thought we
were standing by a stream,' she said.

'We
were, Abigail.'

'Then how did I
come to be lying beside that tent?'

'I carried you
there,' he said.

'Oh, I've been
such a terrible nuisance to you.'

'Not at all - I
was glad to be of assistance. But I do think you need a long rest. We won't be
able to meet for a while, I'm afraid. That's why these moments alone with you
have been so memorable.'

'They'd be
memorable to
me,
if only I could remember them.'

They shared a
friendly laugh. Daniel chatted with her all the way back but his mind was
elsewhere. His memory was not impaired. What he remembered most vividly was the
failed attempt at killing him. As he had predicted, the assassin had come back.

The Confederate
army set out at 3 a.m. on July 2, 1704. After a long, tiring, demanding march
over muddy roads, they arrived to find that Marshal Marsin and the Elector of
Bavaria had, as earlier reports had indicated, occupied the fortified town of
Dillingen with the major part of their army. Though a smaller force of over
13,000 soldiers guarded the Schellenberg, it was still a forbidding sight on
its elevated position. Frantic efforts to strengthen the dilapidated defences
of the hill were in progress and, more worrying to Marlborough, was the fact
that an encampment for a large army had been laid out on the south bank of the
Danube. Once that was filled with French and Bavarian soldiers, supplemented by
the reinforcements on their way, any crossing of the river would be virtually
impossible.

Count Jean
d'Arco, commanding the force on the Schellenberg, was a Piedmontese soldier
with a reputation for brilliance in the field. Though he was surprised by the
sudden appearance of the enemy, he was relieved to see quartermasters marking
out formal lines for a camp with a series of stakes. The army needed rest.
Exhausted from their march, he reasoned, they would have neither the strength
nor will to launch an attack until the following day. D'Arco and his senior officers
therefore went off to dinner in the town without the slightest qualms.
Confident that they would not require their weapons that evening, no fewer than
ten battalions of Bavarians had crossed the pontoon bridge from the south bank
of the Danube without their muskets.

They had all
been tricked by Marlborough. He had quickly assessed the situation. To attack
on the following day would be to give the enemy more time to fortify the hill,
making it more difficult to storm and increasing the likely number of
casualties in Confederate ranks. Marlborough therefore elected to attack at
once, a decision that was strongly opposed by the Margrave of Baden who feared
that a frontal assault would result in heavy losses. He was overruled by
Marlborough who was ready to bear such losses if he could achieve his aim of
securing a crossing on the Danube.

The Duke's Wing
- with Captain Daniel Rawson part of it - had been leading the march and so was
closer to the town than anyone else. They supplied the troops for the main
assault. It was led by 5,750 stormers, drawn from the grenadier companies and
volunteers from every battalion in the Allied army. Since artillery would be
vital, Colonel Holcroft Blood set up a battery between the outlying village of
Berg and the foot of the Schellenberg. They were supported by an Imperial
battery, sent forward by Baden. The Kaiback stream made the ground boggy and it
took time to manoeuvre all the pieces into position. Marlborough had had to
leave his heaviest artillery back in Flanders but still felt that he had enough
to carry the day.

The attack began
at six o'clock in the evening with only two hours of daylight left. It was
preceded by a Forlorn Hope. Commanded by Lord John Mordaunt and drawn from the
1
^st
English Foot Guards, it consisted of eighty courageous soldiers
ready to defy death as they drew the enemy fire so that their generals could
determine where the defences were strongest. Daniel Rawson had joined the
Forlorn Hope, undeterred by the fears of Abigail Piper and feeling the familiar
buzz of excitement as they went forward at a brisk pace. When he glanced at
Lord Mordaunt beside him, he was amused to recall that the man had once nursed
vain ambitions of becoming Marlborough's son-in-law.

The stray
thought flew out of Daniel's mind as quickly as it had entered it. All his
attention was needed for the fight. Like his comrades, Daniel was carrying a
fascine, a bundle of tightly packed branches cut from the trees of the
Boschberg by the dragoons. They were to be cast into the ditches in front of
the breastworks so that they would be easier to cross. As they charged on,
shouting and cheering at the top of their voices, many of the men hurled their
fascines into the sunken lane at the bottom of the hill where they would be of
little use. Daniel and a few others kept theirs until they reached an
entrenchment farther up the hill.

The enemy had
been outwitted. D'Arco and his officers came running back to take command of
their men while the Bavarian battalions scrambled back across the pontoon
bridge to retrieve their weapons from the camp. Even before the first shot was
fired, the noise was deafening as the attackers yelled 'God save the Queen!'
and, on a signal from their officers, broke ranks to charge at full speed. The
Forlorn Hope was a mere eighty paces away when the Bavarian Electoral Guards
and the Grenadiers Rouges unleashed a fierce volley that killed or wounded
dozens of the attackers. Daniel was knocked helplessly to the ground as the
soldier next to him was hit by three simultaneous musket balls and thrown
sideways by the force of the impact.

The Schellenberg
was a bell-shaped hill with a flattened top on which the French troops were
ranged. The first artillery bombardment from Colonel Blood and his men wreaked
havoc on the summit but went harmlessly over the heads of the Bavarians on the
lower slopes. It left them free to repulse the first attack with raking fire
that had British and Dutch soldiers crashing down on all sides. Daniel was
dismayed to see General Goor, leading the Dutch troops, cut down by the enemy.
Resounding volleys of musket fire were supported by fearsome canister shot from
the battery on the hill. When they saw the attackers retiring, the Bavarian
guards charged down the hill to harry them with the bayonets at the ready.
Daniel had to slash away with his sword to keep them at bay.

He killed one
man with a thrust then hacked two more to the ground before falling back with
the others towards a sunken road, fifty yards from the ramparts, that gave them
moderate cover. Only steady and disciplined fire from the English Guards and
from Orkney's Regiment stopped the Bavarians continuing their charge. The hail
of bullets beat them back behind the fortifications. After re-forming in the
sunken road, the Confederate army stormed back to renew their assault, only to
be met by another burst of deadly fire from muskets and another pounding from
artillery. Corpses lay in heaps everywhere. Daniel had to climb over fallen
soldiers to go forward then use some of the human mounds as shields when the
volleys rang out.

Marlborough
already had some idea of the troop disposition of the enemy from a corporal who
had deserted from the Schellenberg. The early stages of the battle confirmed
what the captain-general had been told. Defences were stout at the point of
attack but there had to be weaknesses elsewhere. Marlborough sent an officer to
survey the defences that linked the fort with the town of Donauworth. The
report that was brought back was encouraging. The line of gabions - wicker baskets
filled with stones - was completely unoccupied. The Regiment de Nettancourt,
the French troops guarding that particular area, had been assigned elsewhere,
leaving D'Arco's position exposed on the left.

It was time to
bring the Margrave of Baden and his Imperial Grenadiers into the battle. Baden
hurried his men along the bank of the Kaiback stream, out of range of any
musket fire from Donauworth. There followed a steep climb up grassy slopes made
treacherous by the light rain that was falling. When they reached the abandoned
gabions, they attacked the French in their flank so that D'Arco and his men
were put under fire from two directions. The Regiment de Nectancourt bore the
brunt of the attack and, along with the French dragoons who came to their aid,
resisted bravely but they were unable to withstand it for long. They were soon
overwhelmed.

Seeing that
their comrades were in difficulties, the four battalions defending the town
fired ineffectually at Baden's men yet made no attempt to come out and fight
them. The Electoral Guards and Grenadiers Rouges had fought gallantly against
the initial onslaughts but they could not cope with an attack on their flank as
well. As the remorseless advance continued in front of them and to their side,
they lost their nerve and ran for their lives. Daniel Rawson joined the
murderous chase. Having seen so many friends of his mercilessly cut down by
enemy fire, he would give no quarter.

So many French
and Bavarian soldiers hurtled madly across one of the pontoon bridges that it
broke under the combined weight and tossed everyone into the water. Scores of
them who could not swim were drowned in the Danube and many of those who did
strike out for the south bank were picked off by Confederate musketry. It was a
scene of absolute carnage. To complete the rout, Marlborough let loose his
cavalry, and his remounted dragoons, in hot pursuit of the fleeing enemy and
the fugitives were systematically hacked to death by flailing blades.

The Schellenberg
had been successfully stormed but the Allied army had paid a high price for the
victory. Over a quarter of the strong assault force - 1500 soldiers at least -
had lost their lives. To set against such losses were important gains. Some
9000 of the garrison had been killed or taken prisoner. Also captured were 15
pieces of cannon, 13 colours and a large quantity of ammunition, weaponry,
tents, baggage and camp utensils. In his haste to escape, Count d'Arco had left
behind his plate and other rich booty. It was distributed among the victorious
soldiers.

It was not until
the fighting was over that Daniel realised how bruised and bloodied he was. One
musket ball had grazed his cheek and others had ripped through his sleeve.
While parrying one bayonet thrust, he had received a glancing blow from another
that split open the back of his coat and left him with a gash that oozed blood.
His whole body was now aching with fatigue and he felt as if he had been
trampled in a cavalry charge. Covered in mud and in the gore of his fellows, he
was nevertheless buoyed up by the sheer exhilaration of victory. The first
stage of Marlborough's plan had been accomplished. They had attained their
objective.

Only now, when
it was all over, could he think about Abigail Piper once more. He recalled the
plea she had made on the bank of the stream. She had been right to express fear
about his involvement in the Forlorn Hope. It had been a communal act of
sacrifice.

Of the eighty
men in that first doomed charge, only ten British soldiers had survived. Daniel
Rawson was one of them.