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The party now set to work. With the gimlet holes were made a couple of feet above the water. In them the hooks were inserted, and from these the petards were suspended by ropes, so as to lie against the sides of the boats, an inch only above the water's level. The fuses were inserted; and all being now in readiness for blowing a hole in the side of the two boats, they regained the log, and awaited the signal.
The time passed slowly; but as the church clocks of the town struck eleven, a sudden outburst of musketry broke out round Saint Michael's. In an instant the cannon of the fort roared out, the bells clanged the alarm, blue fires were lighted, and the dead silence was succeeded by a perfect chaos of sounds.
The party under the bridge waited quietly, until the noise as of a large body of men coming upon the bridge from the town end was heard. At the first outbreak Gerald Dillon had, with some difficulty, lit first some tinder, and then a slow match, from a flint and steel–all of these articles having been most carefully kept dry during the trip, with the two pistols, which were intended to fire the fuses, should the flint and steel fail to produce a light.
As the sound of the reinforcements coming on to the bridge was heard, Gerald Dillon on one side, Rupert Holliday on the other, left the log, and swam with a slow match in hand to the boats. In another instant the fuses were lighted, and the three companions swam steadily downstream.
In twenty seconds a loud explosion was heard, followed almost instantaneously by another, and the swimmers knew that their object had been successful, that two of the boats forming the bridge would sink immediately, and that, the connexion being thus broken, no reinforcements from the town could reach the garrison of the Fort Saint Michael. Loud shouts were heard upon the bridge as the swimmers struck steadily down stream, while the roar of the musketry from Fort Saint Michael was unremitting.
Half an hour later the three adventurers landed, at a point where a lantern had, according to arrangement, been placed at the water's edge by Pat Dillon, who was in waiting with their clothes, and who received them with an enthusiastic welcome. Five minutes later they were on their way back to their camp.
In the meantime the battle had raged fiercely round Fort Saint Michael. The attack had been made upon two breaches. The British column, headed by the grenadiers, and under the command of Lord Cutts, attacked the principal breach. The French opposed a desperate defence. With Lord Cutts as volunteers were Lord Huntingdon, Lord Lorn, Sir Richard Temple, and Mr. Dalrymple, and these set a gallant example to their men.
On arriving at a high breastwork, Lord Huntingdon, who was weakened by recent attack of fever, was unable to climb over it.
"Five guineas," he shouted, "to the man who will help me over!"
Even among the storm of balls there was a shout of laughter as the nobleman held out his purse, and a dozen willing hands soon lifted him over the obstacle.
Then on the troops swept, stormed the covered way, carried the ravelin, and forced their way up the breach. The French fought staunchly; and well it was for the British that no reinforcements could reach them from Venloo, and that the original 800 garrisoning the fort were alone in their defence. As it was, the place was stormed, 200 of the French made prisoners, and the rest either killed or drowned in endeavouring to cross the river.
The French in Venloo, upon finding that the fort had fallen, broke up the rest of the bridge; and although there was some surprise in the British camp that no reinforcements had been sent over to aid the garrison, none knew that the bridge had been broken at the commencement of the attack, consequently there were neither talk nor inquiries; and those concerned congratulated themselves that their adventure had been successful, and that, as no one knew anything of it, they could, should occasion offer, again undertake an expedition on their own account.
The day after the capture of Saint Michael's, strong fatigue parties were set to work, erecting batteries to play across the river on the town. These were soon opened, and after a few days' further resistance, the place surrendered, on the condition of the garrison being free to march to Antwerp, then in French possession.
The towns of Ruremond and Stevenswort were now invested, and surrendered after a short resistance; and thus the Maas was opened as a waterway for the supplies for the army.
The Dutch Government, satisfied with the successes so far, would have now had the army go into winter quarters; but Marlborough, with great difficulty, persuaded them to consent to his undertaking the siege of Liege, a most important town and fortress, whose possession would give to the allies the command of the Meuse–or Maas–into the very heart of Flanders.
Marshal Boufflers, ever watching the movements of Marlborough, suspected that Liege would be his next object of attack, and accordingly reconnoitred the ground round that city, and fixed on a position which would, he thought, serve admirably for the establishment of a permanent camp.
The news was, however, brought to Marlborough, who broke up his camp the same night; and when the French army approached Liege, they found the allies established on the very ground which the Marshal had selected for their camp. All unsuspecting the presence of the English, the French came on in order of march until within cannon shot of the allies, and another splendid opportunity was thus given to Marlborough to attack the main body of the enemy under most advantageous circumstances.
The Dutch deputies again interposed their veto, and the English had the mortification of seeing the enemy again escape from their hands.
However, there was now nothing to prevent their undertaking the siege of Liege, and on the 20th of October the regular investment of the place was formed.
The strength of Liege consisted in its citadel and the Fort of Chatreuse, both strongly fortified. The town itself, a wealthy city, and so abounding in churches that it was called "Little Rome," was defended only by a single wall. It could clearly offer no defence against the besiegers, and therefore surrendered at the first summons, the garrison, 5000 strong, retiring to the citadel and Fort Saint Chatreuse, which mounted fifty guns. Siege was at once laid to the citadel, and with such extraordinary vigour was the attack pushed forward, under the direction of General Cohorn, that upon the 23rd of October, three days only after the investment commenced, the breaches in the counter-scarp were pronounced practicable, and an assault was immediately ordered. The allies attacked with extreme bravery, and the citadel was carried by storm–here as at Venloo, the British troops being the first who scaled the breach. Thus 2000 prisoners were taken; and the garrison of Fort Chatreuse were so disheartened at the speedy fall of the citadel, that they capitulated a few days later.
This brought the first campaign of the war to an end. It had been very short, but its effect had been great. Kaiserwerth had been taken, and the Lower Rhine opened; four fortified places on the Meuse had been captured; the enemy had been driven back from the borders of Holland; and the allied army had, in the possession of Liege, an advanced post in the heart of Flanders for the recommencement of the campaign in the spring. And all this had been done in the face of a large French army, which had never ventured to give battle even to save the beleaguered fortresses.
The army now went into winter quarters, and Marlborough returned at once to England.
Upon the voyage down the Meuse, in company with the Dutch commissioners, he had a very narrow escape. The boat was captured by a French partisan leader, who had made an incursion to the river. The earl had with him an old servant named Gill, who, with great presence of mind, slipped into his master's hand an old passport made out in the name of General Churchill. The French, intent only upon plunder, and not recognizing under the name of Churchill their great opponent Marlborough, seized all the plate and valuables in the boat, made prisoners of the small detachment of soldiers on board, but suffered the rest of the passengers, including the earl and the Dutch commissioners, to pass unmolested.
Thus, had it not been for the presence of mind of an old servant, the Earl of Marlborough would have been taken a prisoner to France; and since it was his genius and diplomatic power alone which kept the alliance together, and secured victory for their arms, the whole issue of the war, the whole future of Europe, would have been changed.
Chapter 8: The Old Mill
A considerable portion of the allied army were quartered in the barracks and forts of Liege, in large convents requisitioned for the purpose, and in outlying villages. The 5th dragoons had assigned to them a convent some two miles from the town. The monks had moved out, and gone to an establishment of the same order in the town, and the soldiers were therefore left to make the best they could of their quarters. There was plenty of room for the men, but for the horses there was some difficulty. The cloisters were very large, and these were transformed into stables, and boards were fastened up on the open faces to keep out the cold; others were stalled in sheds and outbuildings; and the great refectory, or dining hall, was also strewn thick with straw, and filled with four rows of horses.
In the afternoon the officers generally rode or walked down into the town. One day, Rupert Holliday with Pat Dillon had met their friends Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday, whose regiment was quartered in the town, at the principal wine shop, a large establishment, which was the great gathering place of the officers of the garrison. There an immense variety of bright uniforms were to be seen; English, German, and Dutch, horse, foot, and artillery; while the serving men hurried about through the throng with trays piled with beer mugs, or with wine and glasses.
"Who is that officer," Dillon asked, "in the Hessian cavalry uniform? Methinks he eyes you with no friendly look."
Rupert and his friends glanced at the officer pointed out.
"It is that fellow Fulke," Sir John said. "I heard he had managed to obtain a commission in the army of the Landgrave of Hesse. You must keep a smart lookout, Master Rupert, for his presence bodes you no good. He is in fitting company; that big German officer next to him is the Graff Muller, a turbulent swashbuckler, but a famous swordsman–a fellow who would as soon run you through as look at you, and who is a disgrace to the Margrave's army, in which I wonder much that he is allowed to stay."
"Who is the fellow you are speaking of?" Dillon asked.
"A gentleman with whom our friend Rupert had a difference of opinion," Sir John Loveday laughed. "There is a blood feud between them. Seriously, the fellow has a grudge against our friend, and as he is the sort of man to gratify himself without caring much as to the means he uses, I should advise Master Holliday not to trust himself out alone after dark. There are plenty of ruined men in these German regiments who would willingly cut a throat for a guinea, especially if offered them by one of their own officers."
"The scoundrel is trying to get Muller to take up his quarrel, or I am mistaken," Lord Fairholm, who had been watching the pair closely, said. "They are glancing this way, and Fulke has been talking earnestly. But ruffian as he is, Muller is of opinion that for a notorious swordsman like him to pick a quarrel with a lad like our friend would be too rank, and would, if he killed him, look so much like murder that even he dare not face it; he has shaken his head very positively."
"But why should not this Fulke take the quarrel in his own hands?" Dillon asked, surprised. "Unless he is the rankest of cowards he might surely consider himself a match for our little cornet?"
"Our little cornet has a neat hand with the foils," Lord Fairholm said drily, "and Master Fulke is not unacquainted with the fact."
"Why, Rupert," Dillon said, turning to him, "you have never said that you ever had a foil in your hand!"
"You never asked me," Rupert said, smiling. "But I have practised somewhat with the colonel my grandfather. And now it is time to be off, Dillon; we have to walk back."
Four days later, as Rupert Holliday was standing in the barrack yard, his troop having just been dismissed drill, a trooper of the 1st dragoons rode into the yard, and after asking a question of one of the men, rode up to him and handed him a note.
Somewhat surprised he opened it, and read as follows:
"My dear Master Holliday–Sir John Loveday and myself are engaged in an adventure which promises some entertainment, albeit it is not without a spice of danger. We need a good comrade who can on occasion use his sword, and we know that we can rely on you. On receipt of this, please mount your horse and ride to the old mill which lies back from the road in the valley beyond Dettinheim. There you will find your sincere friend, Fairholm.
"P.S. It would be as well not to mention whither you are going to ride."
It was the first note that Rupert had received from Lord Fairholm, and delighted at the thought of an adventure, he called Hugh, and bade him saddle his horse.
"Shall I go with you, Master Rupert?" Hugh asked, for he generally rode behind Rupert as his orderly.
Rupert did not answer for a moment. Lord Fairholm had asked him to tell no one; but he meant, no doubt, that he should tell none of his brother officers. On Hugh's silence, whatever happened, he could rely, and he would be useful to hold the horses. At any rate, if not wanted, he could return.
"Ay, Hugh, you can come; and look you, slip a brace of pistols quietly into each of our holsters."
With a momentary look of surprise, Hugh withdrew to carry out his instructions; and ten minutes later, Rupert, followed by his orderly, rode out of the convent.
The mill in question lay some three miles distant, and about half a mile beyond the little hamlet of Dettinheim. It stood some distance from the road, up a quiet valley, and was half hidden in trees. It had been worked by a stream that ran down the valley. It was a dark, gloomy-looking structure; and the long green weeds that hung from the great wheel, where the water from the overshot trough splashed and tumbled over it, showed that it had been for some time abandoned. These things had been noticed by Rupert when riding past it some time before, for, struck with the appearance of the mill, he had ridden up the valley to inspect it.
On his ride to Lord Fairholm's rendezvous, he wondered much what could be the nature of the adventure in which they were about to embark. He knew that both his friends were full of life and high spirits, and his thoughts wandered between some wild attempt to carry off a French officer of importance, or an expedition to rescue a lovely damsel in distress. Hugh, equally wondering, but still more ignorant of the nature of the expedition, rode quietly on behind.
The road was an unfrequented one, and during the last two miles' ride they did not meet a single person upon it. The hamlet of Dettinheim contained four or five houses only, and no one seemed about. Another five minutes' riding took them to the entrance to the little valley in which the mill stood. They rode up to it, and then dismounted.
"It's a lonesome dismal-looking place, Master Rupert. It doesn't seem to bode good. Of course you know what you're come for, sir; but I don't like the look of the place, nohow."
"It does not look cheerful, Hugh; but I am to meet Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday here."
"I don't see any sign of them, Master Rupert. I'd be careful if I were you, for it's just the sort of place for a foul deed to be done in. It does not look safe."
"It looks old and haunted," Rupert said; "but as that is its natural look, I don't see it can help it. The door is open, so my friends are here."
"Look out, Master Rupert; you may be running into a snare."
Rupert paused a moment, and the thought flashed across his mind that it might, as Hugh said, be a snare; but with Lord Fairholm's letter in his pocket, he dismissed the idea.
"You make me nervous, Hugh, with your suggestions. Nevertheless I will be on my guard;" and he drew his sword as he entered the mill.
As he did so, Hugh, who was holding the horses' bridles over his arm, snatched a brace of pistols from the holsters, cocked them, and stood eagerly listening. He heard Rupert walk a few paces forward, and then pause, and shout "Where are you, Fairholm?"
Then he heard a rush of heavy feet, a shout from Rupert, a clash of swords, and a scream of agony.
All this was the work of a second; and as Hugh dropped the reins and rushed forward to his master's assistance, he heard a noise behind him, and saw a dozen men issue from behind the trees, and run towards him.
Coming from the light, Hugh could with difficulty see what was taking place in the darkened chamber before him. In an instant, however, he saw Rupert standing with his back to a wall, with a dead man at his feet, and four others hacking and thrusting at him. Rushing up, Hugh fired his two pistols. One of the men dropped to the ground, the other with an oath reeled backwards.
"Quick, sir! there are a dozen men just upon us."
Rupert ran one of his opponents through the shoulder, and as the other drew back shouted to Hugh, "Up the stairs, Hugh! Quick!"
The two lads sprang up the wide steps leading to the floor above, just as the doorway was darkened by a mass of men. The door at the top of the steps yielded to their rush, the rotten woodwork giving, and the door falling to the ground. Two or three pistol bullets whizzed by their ears, just as they leapt through the opening.
"Up another floor, Hugh; and easy with the door."
The door at the top of the next ladder creaked heavily as they pushed it back on its hinges.
"Look about, Hugh, for something to pile against it."
The shutters of the window were closed, but enough light streamed through the chinks and crevices for them to see dimly. There was odd rubbish strewn all about, and in one corner a heap of decaying sacks. To these both rushed, and threw some on the floor by the door, placing their feet on them to keep them firm, just as with a rush the men came against it. This door was far stronger than the one below, but it gave before the weight.
"The hinges will give," Hugh exclaimed; but at the moment Rupert passed his thin rapier through one of the chinks of the rough boards which formed it, and a yell was heard on the outside. The pressure against the door ceased instantly; and Rupert bade Hugh run for some more sacks, while he threw himself prone on them on the ground.
It was well he did so, for, as he expected, a half-dozen pistol shots were heard, and the bullets crashed through the woodwork.
"Keep out of the line of fire, Hugh."
Hugh did so, and threw down the sacks close to the door. Several times he ran backwards and forwards across the room, the assailants still firing through the door. Then Rupert leapt up, and the pile of sacks were rapidly heaped against the door, just as the men outside, in hopes that they had killed the defenders, made another rush against it.
This time, however, the pile of sacks had given it strength and solidity, and it hardly shook under the assault. Then came volleys of curses and imprecations, in German, from outside; and then the lads could hear the steps descend the stairs, and a loud and angry consultation take place below.
"Open the shutters, Hugh, and let us see where we are."
It was a chamber of some forty feet square, and, like those below it, of considerable height. It was like the rest of the mill, built of rough pine, black with age. It had evidently been used as a granary.
"This is a nice trap we have fallen into, Hugh, and I doubt me if Lord Fairholm ever saw the letter with his name upon it which lured me here. However, that is not the question now; the thing is how we are to get out of the trap. How many were there outside, do you think?"
"There seemed to me about a dozen, Master Rupert, but I got merely a blink at them."
"If it were not for their pistols we might do something, Hugh; but as it is, it is hopeless."
Looking out from the window they saw that it was over the great water wheel, whose top was some fifteen feet below them, with the water running to waste from the inlet, which led from the reservoir higher up the valley.
Presently they heard a horse gallop up to the front of the mill, and shortly after the sound of a man's voice raised in anger. By this time it was getting dark.
"What'll be the end of this, Master Rupert? We could stand a siege for a week, but they'd hardly try that."
"What's that?" Rupert said. "There's some one at the door again."
They came back, but all was quiet. Listening attentively, however, they heard a creaking, as of someone silently descending the stairs. For some time all was quiet, except that they could hear movements in the lower story of the mill. Presently Rupert grasped Hugh's arm.
"Do you smell anything, Hugh?"
"Yes, sir, I smell a smoke."
"The scoundrels have set the mill on fire, Hugh."
In another minute or two the smell became stronger, and then wreaths of smoke could be seen curling up through the crevices in the floor.
"Run through the other rooms, Hugh; let us see if there is any means of getting down."
There were three other rooms, but on opening the shutters they found in each case a sheer descent of full forty feet to the ground, there being no outhouses whose roofs would afford them a means of descent.
"We must rush downstairs, Hugh. It is better to be shot as we go out, than be roasted here."
Rapidly they tore away the barrier of sacks, and Rupert put his thumb on the latch. He withdrew it with a sharp exclamation.
"They have jammed the latch, Hugh. That was what that fellow we heard was doing."
The smoke was now getting very dense, and they could with difficulty breathe. Rupert put his head out of the window.
"There is a little window just over the wheel," he said. "If we could get down to the next floor we might slip out of that and get in the wheel without being noticed.
"Look about, Hugh," he exclaimed suddenly; "there must be a trapdoor somewhere for lowering the sacks. There is a wheel hanging to the ceiling; the trap must be under that."
In a minute the trap was found, and raised. The smoke rushed up in a volume, and the boys looked with dismay at the dense murk below.
"It's got to be done, Hugh. Tie that bit of sacking, quick, over your nose and mouth, while I do the same. Now lower yourself by your arms, and drop; it won't be above fifteen feet. Hold your breath, and rush straight to the window. I heard them open it. Now, both together now."
The lads fell over their feet, and were in another minute at the window. The broad top of the great wheel stretched out level with them, hiding the window from those who might have been standing below. The wheel itself was some thirty feet in diameter, and was sunk nearly half its depth in the ground, the water running off by a deep tail race.
"We might lie flat on the top of the wheel," Hugh said.
"We should be roasted to death when the mill is fairly in flames. No, Hugh; we must squeeze through this space between the wall and the wheel, slip down by the framework, and keep inside the wheel. There is no fear of that burning, and we shall get plenty of fresh air down below the level of the mill.
"I will go first, Hugh. Mind how you go, for these beams are all slimy; get your arm well round, and slip down as far as the axle."
It was not an easy thing to do, and Rupert lost his hold and slipped down the last ten feet, hurting himself a good deal in his fall. He was soon on his feet again, and helped to break the fall of Hugh, who lost his hold and footing at the axle, and would have hurt himself greatly, had not Rupert caught him, both boys falling with a crash in the bottom of the wheel.
They were some little time before regaining their feet, for both were much hurt. Their movements were, however, accelerated by the water, which fell in a heavy shower from above, through the leaks in the buckets of the wheel.
"Are you hurt much, Master Rupert?"
"I don't think I am broken at all, Hugh, but I am hurt all over. How are you?"
"I am all right, I think. It's lucky the inside of this wheel is pretty smooth, like a big drum."
The position was not a pleasant one. A heavy shower of water from above filled the air with spray, and with their heads bent down it was difficult to breathe. The inside planks of the wheel were so slimy that standing was almost impossible, and at the slightest attempt at movement they fell. Above, the flames were already darting out through the windows and sides of the mill.
"Do you not think we might crawl out between the wheel and the wall, and make our way down the tail race, Master Rupert? This water is chilling me to the bones."
"I think it safer to stop where we are, Hugh. Those fellows are sure to be on the watch. They will expect to see us jump out of the upper window the last thing, and will wait to throw our bodies–for of course we should be killed–into the flames, to hide all trace of us. We have only to wait quietly here. It is not pleasant; but after all the trouble we have had to save our lives, it would be a pity to risk them again. And I have a very particular desire to be even with that fellow, who is, I doubt not, at the bottom of all this."
Soon the flames were rushing out in great sheets from the mill, and even in the wheel the heat of the atmosphere was considerable. Presently a great crash was heard inside.
"There is a floor fallen," Rupert said. "I think we may move now; those fellows will have made off secure that–
"Hullo! What's that?"
The exclamation was caused by a sudden creaking noise, and the great wheel began slowly to revolve. The fall of the floor had broken its connection with the machinery in the mill, and left free, it at once yielded to the weight of the water in its buckets. The supply of water coming down was small, and the wheel stiff from long disuse, therefore it moved but slowly. The motion, however, threw both lads from their feet, and once down, the rotatory motion rendered it impossible for them to regain their feet.
After the first cry of surprise, neither spoke; across both their minds rushed the certainty of death.
How long the terrible time that followed lasted, neither of them ever knew. The sensation was that of being pounded to death. At one moment they were together, then separated; now rolling over and over in a sort of ball, then lifted up and cast down into the bottom of the wheel with a crash; now with their heads highest, now with their feet. It was like a terrible nightmare; but gradually the sharp pain of the blows and falls were less vivid–a dull sensation came over them–and both lost consciousness.
Rupert was the first to open his eyes, and for a time lay but in dreamy wonder as to where he was, and what had happened. He seemed to be lying under a great penthouse, with a red glow pervading everything. Gradually his thoughts took shape, and he remembered what had passed, and struggling painfully into a sitting position, looked round.
The wheel no longer revolved; there was no longer the constant splash of water. Indeed the wheel existed as a wheel no longer.
As he looked round the truth lighted upon him. The burning mill had fallen across the wheel, crushing, at the top, the sides together. The massive timber had given no further, and the wheel formed a sort of roof, sloping from the outer wall, built solidly up against it, to the opposite foot. Above, the timber of this wall glared and flickered, but the soddened timber of the wheel could have resisted a far greater amount of heat. The leet had of course been carried away with the fall, and the water would be flowing down the valley. The heat was very great, but the rush of air up the deep cut of the mill race rendered it bearable.
Having once grasped the facts–and as he doubted not the fall must have occurred soon after he lost consciousness, and so saved him from being bruised to death–Rupert turned to Hugh.
He was quite insensible, but his heart still beat. Rupert crawled out of the wheel, and found pools of water in the mill race, from which he brought double handfuls, and sprinkled Hugh's face. Then as he himself grew stronger from fresh air and a copious dousing of his face and head with water, he dragged Hugh out, and laying him beside a pool dashed water on his face and chest. A deep sigh was the first symptom of returning consciousness. He soon, to Rupert's delight, opened his eyes.
After a time he sat up, but was too much hurt to rise. After some consultation, Rupert left him, and went alone down to the hamlet of Dettinheim, where, after much knocking, he roused some of the inhabitants, who had only a short time before returned from the burning mill. Sodden and discoloured as it was, Rupert's uniform was still recognizable, and by the authority this conveyed, and a promise of ample reward, four men were induced to return with him to the mill, and carry Hugh down to the village.
This they reached just as the distant clock of Liege cathedral struck two. A bed was given up to them, and in half an hour both lads were sound asleep.
