Dynasty and Destiny; Book 6 of Poacher's Progress
Chapter 14: Leamington Spa

Copyright© 2018 by Jack Green

Next morning Captain Wilhelm Erzählenmann was waiting on the towpath alongside Britannia at five minutes before nine.
We set off, crossing the canal at a nearby bridge and rode the three miles into Leamington Spa. During the journey we chatted, mainly on military matters, although I was dying to ask whether he had spent the night with the Duchess. He occasionally gave a yawn, and I noticed what could be a love bite on his neck, only partly covered by his stock.
Taking account of his general demeanour, which was of a man who had spent a night in bed but with little time asleep, I assumed he had.

“Captain Hutton tells me you were at Waterloo, Colonel.”
Erzählenmann’s question drew me back from thinking improper thoughts about a Royal personage to the present.

“Aye, I was. My regiment was posted on the ridge, in the centre of the line. What about you, were you at the battle?”

“No, I was attached to the First Russian Army of Feldmarschall Barclay de Tolly. I was ADC to Colonel Hindenburg, Prussian Military Commissioner with the Russians, in fact in a similar position as Captain Hutton held at Feldmarschall Blucher’s headquarters. My regiment had suffered severe causalities at Leipzig and was reformed with inexperienced officers and men, which is why it was used as gallopers and escorts at General Headquarters rather than in the field.” He grinned, “I think Captain Hutton was surprised I did not know any of those officers of the Third Hussars he met at Ligny, but none of them had been in the regiment prior to Leipzig.”
“Leipzig was a large and complex battle was it not?”
I thought it best I did not reveal that Hutton had shared his suspicions with me.
“It certainly was, and never before had I seen such chaos on a battlefield. Napoleon was beaten by a coalition of armies that did not have any idea of what the right or left hands were doing. The French were no better organised or informed. They blew a bridge while thousands of their men were withdrawing across it. The whole affair was a complete and utter shambles.” He paused in consideration. “Every battle is a shambles of course, but I would count Leipzig as the greatest – so far, that is!”

We rode a mile in silence, each wrapt in the memories of battles in which we had been involved.

Out of the blue Erzählenmann started talking about the subject I had been thinking about earlier in the journey...

“You know, Colonel, I have never tumbled a married woman.”
I shot him a startled look; the topic is one not often discussed between Englishmen, and certainly not with a casual acquaintance. I assumed Prussians were not so reticent, for Erzählenmann continued, ignoring my embarrassed expression.
“I know I have a reputation, richly deserved I might add, of having no trouble getting between the thighs of a female, but I can assure you never with a married woman, although I have had plenty of opportunities. A married woman is in a union sanctified by God, and it would be a mortal sin to have carnal knowledge of such a woman.”
He quickly crossed himself, as High Churchmen and Papists are wont to do. He let out a laugh like a fox bark. “Mind you, there has been no shortage of unmarried females and widows to fill the empty spaces, so to speak.”

Erzählenmann finished speaking as we entered Leamington Spa. We made our way to the Town Hall, where I hoped to find the mayor. I had sent a galloper the previous day with a message notifying him of my visit.
Captain Erzählenmann and I dismounted outside the town hall and tied our horses to a rail adjacent to a horse trough. We entered the building and were ushered into The Mayor’s Parlour.
A sparse-hair-headed man with a bushy beard, thin framed, and of similar age to myself, rose from the ornately carved chair situated at the head of a large mahogany table.

“I am Colin Milburn, Mayor of the fair town of Leamington Spa.” He indicated a woman sitting in a chair alongside him. “And this is my sister, Missus Crosby. As I am a widower my sister performs the duties of the Lady Mayoress.”
Mrs. Crosby was a fine looking female of some thirty years of age. Her long, light brown, hair framed a pleasantly rounded face with blue eyes and full lips, but her most striking attribute was a bosom of more than ample proportions.

“Hello, me bonny lads.” She said, with an accent that indicated her place of birth being in Northumberland.

“My sister has recently been widowed, and has moved down from Jarrow to be with family.” Mayor Milburn said, slightly embarrassed I would have thought at the forwardness of his sister. “I came south twelve years ago as a journeyman fettler. I now own the largest iron foundry in the town.”

“T’is the only iron foundry in town, yer daft booger, and I’ve been a widow for nigh on two years. Six hundred nights without a man in me bed.” Mrs Crosby said, digging me in the ribs with a surprisingly sharp elbow.

I explained the reason for my visit. “What plans have you made for the security of the Royal Party, and the control of the crowds who will be present at the Loyal Address, Mister Mayor?”
Milburn scratched his sparsely covered head, and then combed his fingers through his more luxuriant beard.

“Well, Alfred Tupper, theTown Constable, will be alongside me and the Aldermen on the dais. I suppose he could deputise some extra constables if you think they will be needed. We’ve not had much truck with Royalty here for many a year, and I doubt many folk will turn out. Most of them have work to attend to.”

“Plenty of women will turn out to see the Loyal Address if there’s more handsome gadgies like this one,” his sister said, pointing to Captain Erzählenmann. “What’s yer name, bonny lad?”

“My name is Wilhelm, pretty lady. May I enquire what name you have been blessed with?”
She beamed, and stuck out her bosom. “It’s Dulcima, you silver-tongued gadgie.”

“Dulcima? Your name is that of an instrument whose strings, when plucked by skilled fingers, bring forth wondrous, rapturous, sounds.”

“You can strum on me strings any time, bonny lad, and then use that honey sweet tongue of yours to produce even more rapturous sounds!”

The level of sexual attraction between the pair was such that I fully expected Erzählenmann to spread Dulcimer Crosby across the mayoral table, and the pair rut like street dogs, there and then.
I quickly changed the subject. “Shall you show me where the Loyal Address will be held, Mister Mayor, and where the dais has been sited?” I then tapped Erzählenmann on his shoulder. “We need to keep our minds on our duty, Captain.” I said sotto voce.

“Don’t be ganning away before seeing me first, Wilhelm. I’ll be here in the parlour when you’ve done glegging at the dais.” Dulcima’s entreaty followed us out of the door.

“I must apologise for my sister,” Milburn said. “She has always had an outgoing personality, and loves company, especially male company.”

The Loyal Address was to be held in Clarendon Square, an open rectangle of parkland of about two square furlongs. The dais was constructed under a stand of elms, facing a terrace of substantial three story houses.

“There will have to be men on the roofs to prevent a marksman taking a shot.” Erzählenmann remarked.

“It must be over three hundred yards to the houses, way out of musket shot, and only a Rifleman could guarantee a hit from that distance.” I said. “However, it is best not to take any chances, and to dissuade anyone thinking of firing on the Royal Party I will place a file or two of men along the roof edge. They will also be useful in drawing our attention to any suspicious behaviour they observe from their vantage point.”
I turned and looked at the area surrounding the dais.
“The rest of Hutton’s troop will be positioned to the side of the dais. Not mounted but stood at the head of their horses, with carbines holstered and swords sheathed.”

“Would it not be better if they are mounted, and in front of the dais? Any sudden rush by a mob could then be thwarted.” Erzählenmann said.

“We are not expecting trouble, or crowds of onlookers, Wilhelm, and I have bad memories of mounted horsemen and a civilian crowd, although it was the ill-disciplined Yeomanry, not Regular cavalry, who initiated the ‘Peterloo Massacre’.”

“Massacre?”
I explained how a peaceful meeting had developed into a riot by the poorly trained, ill-disciplined and badly led Yeomanry’s reaction to a few catcalls, the result being twenty deaths and scores of injured men, women, and children.

As we rode along Clarendon Crescent on our return to the Town Hall Erzählenmann pointed to a metal cover in the carriageway.

“I assume that is an entrance to the sewer which runs beneath this road?

“I suppose so. Leamington Spa is a popular resort for the rich, who come to take the medicinal waters, and enjoy the entertainments on offer. Consequently the town can afford both a modern sewage and water system.”

“In Rostock, a man concealed himself in such an underground chamber, and when the Governor General of the Province rode by in a landau the man opened the manhole cover and threw an infernal device into the carriage. He blew the Governor General and his escort of Uhlans to Kingdom Come, before escaping through the sewer system.”

“Good God alive!” I reined in my horse and gazed at the row of manhole covers in the middle of the roadway. “I will need to ensure The Royal Party is routed down thoroughfares without sewers running beneath them.”

“Or place weights on all the manhole covers,” he said, and laughed, “Any potential assassin trapped below would expire from inhaling faecal fumes.”

I made my way back to Britannia alone, as Erzählenmann had disappeared with the Mayor’s sister shortly after we returned to the Town Hall.
He arrived back at the barge at midnight, showing signs of extreme fatigue.
“I hope I can stay here tonight, Colonel?”

 
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