you slow, shifty and unreliable. Worst of all, it's given you the stubbornness of a mule.'
Daniel smiled. 'I regard that as a compliment, Major.'
'Then it's the only one you'll ever get from me.'
Annoyed that he was unable to provoke Daniel, the major glared at him for a moment then stalked off. Henry Welbeck came out of his tent to rejoin his friend. He had heard every word through the canvas. He looked at the departing figure of Simon Cracknell then spat on the ground before speaking.
'Who's going to kill that bastard, Dan — you or me?'
Chapter Four
The euphoria engendered by the Allied success did not last long. Bad weather forced a delay of several days and the Dutch generals once again refused to approve a major engagement. With the enemy now drawn up behind the River Dyle, Slangenberg and the others could not even agree on the best point to attempt a crossing and they quarrelled for hours on end. Their hesitation caused even further delays. It was not until 30 July that the council of war authorised a move over the river south of Louvain with a diversion to the north. Marshal Villeroi moved smartly to block the first attempt but Allied troops managed to cross on pontoon bridges lower down the river. To Marlborough's delight, a battle at last seemed imminent. He carefully manoeuvred his men into position and was ready to strike. At the last moment, however, almost inevitably, General Slangenberg objected to an attack. The furious commander- in-chief had to call off the whole operation and march back to camp at Meldert.
'This is humiliating!' cried Marlborough in the privacy of his quarters. 'How can I conduct a war with such intolerable handicaps? The stupidity, pique and cowardice of the Dutch generals are beyond belief. It's almost as if they don't want to defeat the French.'
'Slangenberg is to blame, John,' said his brother, General Churchill. 'His behaviour has verged on insubordination. I think that you should bring it to the attention of the States-General.'
'It's not as simple as that, Charles.'
'Refuse to work with that bearded curmudgeon. He's been our nemesis from the start. I tell you, there are times when I believe that Slangenberg must be in the pay of the enemy.'
'I've tried everything to appease the old devil. I even told him it was an honour to have someone of his eminence under my command. But it was all to no avail. He continues to fester with jealousy and obstruct any plans we make.'
'Say as much to Grand Pensionary Heinsius,' advised Churchill. 'He's the one man with the power to dismiss Slangenberg.'
'I have to choose my words with care,' said Marlborough, biting his lip. 'Much as I'd love to show my rage, I must hold it in lest I upset people who are — when all is said and done — our major allies.'
'His Grace has shown a masterly control of his true feelings,' said Adam Cardonnel. 'Were he to commit them to paper, it would probably burst into flame.'
The three men shared a hollow laugh. They all knew that, in any correspondence, truth had to be mixed liberally with tact. In the wake of yet another missed opportunity to draw the French into battle, they were angry and jaded. The lustre of their victory at Blenheim was starting to wear off. They needed to prove that it had not been achieved by an isolated stroke of luck. Time was running out. Campaigning would be over in the autumn when food supplies dwindled. They did not wish to retire to winter quarters without having made at least some impression on the enemy.
Churchill was as distressed as his elder brother. General of Foot since 1702, he had seen his men performing heroically, only to have their efforts undermined by their allies. After the latest setback, he feared the worst.
'We'll end this year with very little to show for it,' he said.
'Not necessarily,' said Marlborough. 'We may yet do something of note before the summer is out.'
'Well, it will not be with the assistance of the Dutch.'
'It will have to be, Charles.'
'Then it's doomed from the start,' said Churchill. 'The truth of it is that the Dutch are sick of fighting. They have no stomachs for a long war. More and more voices in The Hague are suggesting that they sue for peace with France.'
'In that event,' Cardonnel pointed out, 'they'll have to accept a Frenchman as the King of Spain and that's anathema to us.'
'It's anathema to the Dutch as well,' said Marlborough.
'Is it, John?' questioned his brother. 'I begin to sniff betrayal here. I know I accused him earlier but I'd exonerate Slangenberg from being in league with the French even though he shares their Popish religion. However, I suspect one of our allies. When our first party tried to cross the river, Villeroi was waiting for them as if forewarned of their approach. I fancy there's a spy in the Dutch camp.'
'The warning could equally well have come from our camp.'
'That's even more worrying.'
'Only if there really was treachery,' said Marlborough, 'and I'm not persuaded of that. I think that Marshal Villeroi guessed right this time. It was too much to expect that we could fool him twice in a row. The only way to find out the truth,' he went on, 'is to capture him and ask if he had an informer in our ranks.'
'Capture him?' said Churchill in disbelief. 'How can we hope to do that when the Dutch will not let us get anywhere near the fellow?'
'Be patient, Charles,' said his brother, tapping his forehead with an index finger. 'Something is stirring in my brain.'
While his uncle was avoiding Tom Hillier, he hadn't been forgotten by Daniel Rawson. Wondering how the lad was faring, he sought the drummer boy out in a spare moment. Hillier was close to tears. He was staring up at a tall tree in dismay. Daniel realised why.
'How long has that been up there, Tom?' he asked.
Hillier gasped in surprise. 'Oh — Captain Rawson!'
'Somebody is enjoying a laugh at your expense, I see.'
'It's not the first time, sir.'
'New recruits always have to endure this kind of thing, I'm afraid. It's a rite of passage.'
'How can I get it down?
Hillier had good reason to be upset. His drum had been stolen while he was in the latrines and wedged in the top branches of a tree. Some of the lower branches had been deliberately snapped off so that he could not use them to climb up. Shinning up the trunk would not be easy. It was too thick and smooth for him to get a good purchase on it.
'What else have they done, Tom?' said Daniel.
'They hid my uniform, they poured water over me while I was asleep and one of them put a dead mouse in my boot. Every day, it's something different,' said Hillier. 'They seem to like baiting me.'
'It's all in fun, lad. They may have stolen your drum but they've taken care not to damage it. As you can see, they've put it where it can't possibly fall.'
'But how do I get it down again, Captain?'
'Try using simple arithmetic.'
Hillier was puzzled. 'Arithmetic?'
'Yes, Tom,' said Daniel. Add six and six together for me.'
'The answer's twelve.'
'That means your six foot combined with mine will take you up to twelve feet, and you can add another two for reach. I'd say that lowest branch was no more than ten or eleven feet away. When you stand on my shoulders, you'll be able to grab it easily.'
'You're going to help me?' said Hillier in amazement.
'Well, there's nobody else here to offer you a hand.'
'Thank you, Captain Rawson. I'm so grateful.'
