Somervile nodded gravely. 'But in the end, it is the breasts of brave men that win the day, is it not?'
'In the end, yes,' said Hervey, reluctantly. 'Though the end has too often been close to the beginning. And for want of imagination by those whose design the battle is. Of that we had ample evidence in Rangoon. But I'm glad to observe also that it was officers' breasts in higher proportion here. General Edwards is killed, and a good many brigadiers and field officers wounded.'
'I am truly sorry in Lankester's regard,' said Somervile, stopping and shaking his head. 'You know I believed him a most admirable fellow.'
'The best,' replied Hervey, simply.
'And I'm sorry that events did not prove you wrong about your cornet.'
'Green, yes. I confess I feel no remorse at having placed him in the position whence he met his death, but I heartily regret the circumstances, for his mettle was not truly determined. But then perhaps it was the best way. If he had dishonoured himself and the regiment, what would follow now? No, it's better, surely, that the regiment believes he died doing his duty, having volunteered for the hottest place. And there's the letter, of course. I've no notion of Green's father, a tea merchant in Lincolnshire as I understand it, but he has lost a son, and it will doubtless go heavily with him.'
‘And I imagine,' said Somervile, helpfully, 'that having invested so much of his provincial fortune in making a gentleman of him, he would want to be able to tell his family and friends that he had died like one. It is ironic, is it not, that the profits of tea should send a man to die in the very place the profits originate?'
Hervey sighed.
'What of Rose, by the way? I did not see him this morning.'
Hervey brightened. 'Oh, Rose. I confess I was wrong there. He's been the very best of troop-leaders. He was in the storming party. He fought like a wildcat. "Death, or honour restored" I think his motto was.'
'I am pleased to hear it. A regiment cannot afford to cast aside a talent for battle at such times - even a flawed one as Rose's might be.'
'No, indeed. And the further question in this regard is what shall be Armstrong's reward.'
Somervile nodded. 'Ah yes. Just so. His doings are, by your account, wholly exceptional.'
Hervey smiled. 'Not for Armstrong. But, yes, they are singular for a man whose schooling and obligation are so limited.'
'Then I trust he shall have a prize.'
Hervey frowned. 'Prizes. Now there is a matter for attention.' He reached inside his coat and took out a package of papers. 'General orders; listen: "Officers commanding Corps and Detachments, are directed to have it particularly explained to the men under their command, and also have it proclaimed in their Regimental Bazaars by beat of Tom Tom, that the Prize Property of every description, taken within the Walls of Bhurtpore, is immediately to be sent and delivered over to Lieut.-Col. The Hon. J. Finch, Prize Agent; and any person found secreting or detaining Prize Property, will be placed in confinement, and punished accordingly."'
Somervile looked puzzled; it was but the usual way with prize money.
'The point is, there has been far too great an expectation of prize money in the army. Durjan Sal's property isn't likely to amount to much, nor his instruments of war either. The real wealth of the place is Bulwant Sing's.'
'Indeed so,' said Somervile, still looking puzzled. 'I am presuming that the agent will determine what is for restitution.'
Hervey looked doubtful. 'That is not my sense of it. The order makes quite explicit that anything taken is, by that fact, prize property. But perhaps that was not the intention. Perhaps the order was written with too pressing a haste.’ 'Is there anything else?’
Hervey turned to another of the sheets. 'Indeed there is. The commander-in-chief's thanks to the army.’ He began scanning it for the titbits. '"The arrangements which fell to the share of Brigadier-Gen. Sleigh, C. B., Commanding the Cavalry, not only during the Assault, but from the commencement of the investiture of Bhurtpore, are to be appreciated by the fact, that none of the Enemy escaped from the Fort but on the conditions of surrender; and that the Capture of the Usurper Durjan Sal, with his Family, and almost every person of rank or authority under him, has been effected through the vigilance and gallantry of the several Corps employed under his command.’’’
'Handsome, indeed,’ said Somervile. Then his brow furrowed. 'You know, Hervey, we had a very particular fear for you. Emma and I, I mean.’
'Oh ... I should not—’
'I mean that your name at the head of any casualty list would have gone hard with us. There are too many senior officers on that list for it not to be perfectly apparent how the fight went.’
Hervey nodded. 'Indeed,’ he said quietly. 'And thank you for those sentiments. It is appreciated, I do assure you.’
'And speaking of senior officers,’ added Somervile, brightly, 'you say that Anburey is perfectly well?'
Hervey shrugged and smiled. 'Not a mark on him. He is much grieved, however, by how the mine went. He blames himself for the excess of powder.'
'Not for long, I hope,' said Somervile, his usual cool detachment returned. 'It sounded like science of the most experimental nature, from all you've told me.'
'Indeed it was. And I hope Anburey is duly feted for it.'
Somervile narrowed his eyes a little. 'And what, might I ask, shall Local-Major Hervey expect for his address?'
Hervey shrugged matter-of-factly. 'A brevet, I would hope. Combermere's as good as said so. He wants me to join his staff in Calcutta.'
'You will say yes, of course?'
'I'm very much inclined to, but there's a deal to resolve in the regiment first. There'll be promotion without payment if Joynson gets Sir Ivo's half-colonelcy, but besides Strickland there are two who are senior to me serving on the staff in England, so that will not be mine.'
'It seems unfair since you were the one in harm's way.'
'It is the system.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PRIZES
Calcutta
GENERAL ORDERS BY THE RIGHT HON. THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL IN COUNCIL
Fort-William, 29th Jan. 1826
A Royal Salute, and Three Vollies of Musketry, to be fired at all the Stations of the Land Forces serving in the East Indies, in honor of the Capture, by Assault, of the Fortified City of Bhurtpore, on the morning of the 18th instant, by the Army under the Personal Command of His Excellency the Right Hon. Lord Combermere, Commander-in-Chief, and the Unconditional Surrender of the Citadel of Bhurtpore, on the same day.
By Command of the Right Hon. The Governor-General in Council,
GEO SWINTON Secretary to the Government.
A month after the salute was fired at Fort William, Hervey and the Sixth returned to Calcutta. It was a good homecoming. Europeans and natives alike welcomed them, and 'Lo, see the conquering hero come’ was played so frequently that it began to pall. Hervey, as Joynson's second in command once again, confined himself to the regimental lines and the voluminous administrative detail that accompanied the end of a protracted period in the field. In addition, there was the matter of the church parade for Sir Ivo Lankester. His remains lay with the others who had died in the assault - interred close where they had fallen, with the simplest of ceremonies and yet to be memorialized in marble - but his memory had still to be hallowed in the regimental fashion. To Hervey fell the duty of making the arrangements, and not least in accordance with the sensibilities of Lankester’s widow.
On the third evening he dined with the Somerviles. Eyre Somervile had told his wife everything of Bhurtpore when he had returned a week earlier, and she had read, too, Lord Combermere’s despatch to the Governor-General. Emma was as much apprised of events as any woman in Calcutta; there were but a few details awaiting Hervey's personal explanation. And she had, with great delicacy, attended on Lady Lankester several times in order to supply answers to such questions as the widow could conceive, she knowing so little of affairs in India. Besides the obvious pleasure in their reunion, therefore,
both Emma and Hervey expected the evening to be of material advantage in the question of regimental mourning.
'I am to call on her tomorrow,' said Hervey, nodding his thanks to the khitmagar who held his chair for him as they sat down to dinner. 'With Joynson and the troop-captains. I hope then to gain her general approval for the form of service. It's a pity the bishop is off on one of his peregrinations. Our chaplain shall just have to rise to the occasion.'
'You will find her very composed, Matthew. That, I think, I can assure you. She was very grateful for your and Colonel Joynson's letters especially.'
'Joynson is trying to discover what her intentions are with regards to a passage home. Has she said anything?'
'Only that she did not intend travelling at once.' 'I am surprised.'
'She will have her reasons, I'm sure, which doubtless will become apparent with time.'
'Indeed, my dear,' said Somervile, anxious to begin their dinner.
Emma nodded to the khansamah for the soup to be brought.
'Now,' continued Somervile, draining his first glass of hock faster than Emma's glance suggested approval of. 'Laying this matter to one side for the moment, what have you decided about the appointment to Combermere's staff?'
Hervey raised his eyebrows. 'I am offered a brevet - a lieutenant-colonel's brevet, I mean. I can hardly decline the promotion.'
'Excellent!'
Emma smiled too. 'And my congratulations, Matthew! Lieutenant-colonel - it sounds exactly comme il faut, and very deserving, I'm sure.'
'Thank you. Thank you both,' said Hervey smiling, but not as fully.
'You have some reservations?' asked Emma.
He did not answer. Indeed he did have reservations, though they were not easily put. He was thirty-five years old (his birthday had been but a few days ago, unobserved except in the bibi khana, to where he had escaped for a few hours of forgetfulness) and the proprietor of a troop. Who would salute his prospects if he did not take the brevet? And yet . . .
'Matthew?'
'Oh, I . . . the regiment is recalled to England, don't you know. We learned it only today.'
'Ah, I see.' Emma glanced at her husband. The news seemed not to disappoint them both as much as it might.
'I, too,' replied Somervile, half-emptying his refilled glass. 'Not recalled as such . . .'
'Eyre has been invited to join the Court of Directors,' Emma explained.
Hervey did now smile without reserve. 'That is capital news, is it not? My congratulations to you too!'
Somervile nodded. 'Capital indeed. And yet I am in two minds. I have spent so long in the Indies.'
'I think, Matthew,' said Emma, glancing at her husband again, 'that Eyre believes that if you take the position here with Lord Combermere, his own choice will be the easier.'
Somervile said nothing.
'A really very agreeable thought,' replied Hervey, much heartened. 'Though I fail to see how my being Lord Combermere's military secretary should facilitate your business with the Governor-General and the council.'
Hervey's reply presumed which decision it would be, but Somervile was not minded to observe on it. 'Just wait until you have seen the workings of Fort William, my good friend. Then you will understand.'
The prospect sounded not altogether inviting.
'So you see, Matthew,' said Emma, laying a hand on his. 'You shall make the choice between you.'
Next day at ten o'clock, Brevet-Lieutenant-Colonel Joynson, Brevet-Major Hervey and Captains Strickland and Rose stepped down from the regimental caleche at the residence of the Governor-General. They wore levee dress and together presented a picture of the utmost smartness, as was their intention in order to display their greatest respects.
Lord Amherst's major-domo showed them into a sitting room hung with bright Indian silks, and Sir Ivo's widow entered soon afterwards with a female companion some years her senior. The officers bowed, as one, and Lady Lankester curtsied.
'Permit me to introduce myself, Lady Lankester,' said Joynson stepping forward. 'I am Eustace Joynson, your late husband's major. May I present, also, Major Hervey, Captains Strickland and Rose.'
Each nodded in turn.
'Gentlemen,' she said by reply, softly.
Hervey observed a beautiful woman, for all her mourning weeds. Neither did the pain of her loss line her face excessively, so that she appeared no older than the twenty-five years which Emma Somervile had asserted. But the reason for her delaying passage home was easily apparent. To a skilled observer her complexion told, and to one less so the swelling at her skirts. Hervey had known of it, through Emma, and had told the others. Nevertheless, the appearance of widow with child was more a trial than any of them had expected. Lady Lankester was now, if not before, 'on the strength'.
Three weeks later, on a bright, hopeful spring morning, Emma Somervile walked the Sixth's lines with Hervey, probing him for some intimation of his decision on the appointment to Combermere's staff.
'I think Joynson is of a mind to quit India sooner than I thought’ he said at length, as if it had some special bearing.
'I believe I may know why.'
‘Oh?'
Trances. I spoke with Eyre about her only a little time before you all returned. I do believe she will very soon make a spectacle of herself. More, for she has in truth made herself so on several occasions. It was a blessing when the army left for Bhurtpore.'
'I feel very sorry for him. There's no word yet from the Horse Guards about whether the regiment can be his.'
'And your own decision will be consequent on learning it?'
'I'm bound to say that it could. I'm being pressed almost daily by Lord Combermere's military secretary for an answer.'
'You surely cannot turn down promotion, Matthew?'
He smiled. 'Do you want me to say "yes" so that Eyre might take his post in London with ease?'
Emma squeezed his arm. 'I confess I do not know what would be the right course for Eyre. I myself have no very great inclination to return to England, and Eyre is so very suffused by all that there is in this land that I fear he might decline in spirits. You know, Matthew, he prizes your society greatly. I do believe that whatever your decision now, his would be to do likewise.' She laid a hand to his arm. 'And I should be very happy too if that were so.'
Hervey was greatly touched by the continuing evidence of his friends' affection. But he was as yet unable to give any undertaking. 'Well, I may tell you that I must give an answer to the military secretary within the week. But I tell you, Emma, I have scarcely ever found a decision so troublesome.'
Emma simply raised an eyebrow and inclined her head, a gesture to say she understood perfectly but could be of no help.
'But how is Somervile today?' asked Hervey, determined now to be bright. 'In good spirits, I trust. Shall he dine with us in mess, as we arranged?'
Emma brightened too. 'Oh, he is in excellent spirits, though he is angered by the commander-in-chief.'
'Combermere? How so?'
'He had a letter this morning from Sir Charles Metcalfe, who complains that the prize agents are appropriating property by rights the rajah's. He says it's little better than outright theft.'
Hervey sighed. He had imagined it might be so, though he supposed it was nothing entirely new. 'And the bulk of it, I fear, will find its way down the throat, though the widows will be glad of their share.'
Serjeant-Major Armstrong stepped from the forage store as they drew parallel. He saluted and hailed them in a model combination of propriety and familiarity.
'Mr Armstrong, I am sorry we have not met since your return,' said Emma, beaming wide. 'Let me shake your hand. I am all admiration for your exploits. The whole of Calcutta is!'
Armstrong glanced at Hervey, who nodded. 'Ah, them exploits, ma'am!'
'I believe Mrs Armstrong may have told me of the others, Serjeant-Major,' replied Emma, with just the right note of mystery.
'Well, ma'am, it felt queer to be on me hands and knees ag
ain after all these years, but it worked in the end.'
'And I hope it is rightly esteemed.' Emma looked at Hervey.
Armstrong had no doubt of it, however. 'It is indeed, ma'am. Advanced in seniority and service by three years no less. As I was saying to Mr Hairsine, I'm only a molehill from being RSM.'
Emma smiled again, and turned to her companion. 'Are there moles in India, do you know, Major Hervey?'
On the Saturday morning following, after the customary weekly parade, Hervey sat down at his desk in regimental headquarters and began at last to compose his letter to Lord Combermere's military secretary: 'Sir, I have the honour to . . .'
The clerk had lit a fire, but Hervey did not expect the letter would take him many minutes to draft.
The Sabre's Edge Page 36