Billy could not say that he was not pleased with the officers, but hoped the inference might be drawn.
“Exactly so, Sergeant Bacon. Ensign Farthing, you might not know, is the elder son of Colonel Searson’s sister.”
“Always good to be favoured with the military education of such a young gentleman, sir.”
“Exactly. We are to sail in just five weeks, Sergeant Bacon. From Bristol.”
“Very good, sir.”
It seemed that the Searson family was seeking gentility, pursuing it in fact, and all through the medium of a scarlet coat.
“It might be as well, sir, if the young gentleman were to be tutored in his drill. He was not perhaps quite as familiar with the book as he might have been.”
“I believe he is of the opinion that he will ‘pick it up’ quite quickly, Sergeant Bacon.”
“That is unfortunate, perhaps, sir. He will have no opportunity to learn aboard ship, I fear, and may well stand out if we have to parade before the Governor in Jamaica, or wherever we end up in the Sugar Islands, sir. There might be four or five battalions on the parade ground, sir.”
Captain Higgins promised to speak to the colonel; it could be quite appalling if the battalion was singled out by the major-general in command as incompetent. They would end up in barracks, taking part in none of the promised campaigns yet still suffering from the fevers. The whole purpose of paying quite substantial inducements to politicians and to senior figures in Horse Guards had been to gain Colonel Searson a military reputation as well as a Regular Commission – and that meant he must go to battle. Having achieved success at regimental level there was a chance that when seniority made him Major-General, he might be given a command, and that would be his making. The Searson family knew that the investment would not turn the current rich generation into gentlemen, but properly used it would enable their sons to marry well and permit the grandchildren to strut in Mayfair. Within the colonel’s lifetime the family would rise from the counting house to the House of Lords, but only if each step was managed correctly.
Captain Higgins had far lesser ambitions; he was the son of a country doctor and wished only at the age of thirty to eventually retire to a place of respectability in the County. He had an elder brother who was an apothecary who might wish to wed his daughters a step or two higher in the town; an uncle to be seen in a Regular red coat would do great good for that ambition. A little of loot or prize-money from the taking of an island would come in very handy as well – as little as five thousand pounds could be invested to produce a very handy two hundred pounds a year and a man could live comfortably enough on four pounds a week. Nothing would eventuate if they could not achieve success in battle – and one incompetent on parade might be sufficient to prevent them ever seeing that opportunity.
It would not be easy, persuading the colonel that his sister’s son was a menace to the whole regiment; he would have to express himself very carefully. He sniffed and thought and then marched across to the major’s office.
“The problem, sir, is my ensign, the boy Farthing. We held a company parade this morning, mostly for the benefit of my new sergeant who wanted to take a look at the way we did things. Good man, Sergeant Bacon, sir; very glad he has come to me. He pointed out that when we go into garrison, in the Sugar Islands, that is, we will be in company of at least two other battalions of infantry, possibly more. We do not want to show poorly in their company, and end up in permanent garrison while they go out to fight.”
“What has that to do with Farthing? Ah! I see! Not something we wish to have on our parade ground, you would say, Captain Higgins. Well, you will have to smarten him up!”
“His mother is the sister of the colonel, sir.”
“Is she, by God! That makes it a different matter, Captain Higgins. Just you leave it with me! No, on second thoughts, you should accompany me to the colonel now. Between us, we can explain the situation to him.”
Billy Bacon and the Soldier Slaves
Chapter Five
Billy was called before the colonel next morning. He entered his office, escorted by Captain Higgins, to discover Ensign Farthing already there, snivelling.
“Sergeant Bacon!”
“Sir!”
“I have just been explaining the facts of the military hexistence, Sergeant Bacon, to the young gentleman ‘ere. His first response was to offer to resign his commission. I have explained to him that such a course is ineligible. He has made ‘is bed, and in it he must lie! His family ‘ave, have, gone to great lengths to secure his Regular Commission, and we are not to see it thrown away by a wastrel boy!”
“Sir!”
“I see you understand me, Sergeant Bacon. Ensign Farthing will attend you for one hour of each morning and the same each afternoon, in a private place where you will teach him the very least that he needs to know. You will report to me on his progress, at the end of each week, and if I am not satisfied, then I shall see him beaten. Ensign Farthing will halso be present every afternoon when, as Captain Higgins informs me, the company shall be at musketry. He will learn the musket – every officer must be able to load and fire a piece, or so I am told. I am now told that we have just three weeks before we march to Bristol, Sergeant Bacon, and I ‘ave promised the boy that if he has not learned his drill, then he will walk every inch of the way!”
“Sir!”
“Thank you, Captain Higgins, for bringing this matter to my attention. When we reach the Sugar Islands, we shall be among the best, and we shall have our opportunity to shine in battle!”
“Thank you, sir. Sergeant Bacon will commence his course of instruction with immediate effect, sir. Mr Farthing, you will go with Sergeant Bacon and you will obey his orders, all of which he is passing on from me. Do you understand, sir, that disobedience to those orders constitutes a refusal to accept my commands?”
The boy gulped and sniffed and said that he did, but he didn’t think it was jolly fair that he should be the only ensign treated so. Colonel Searson stood, rested his hands on his desk and scowled. He was far taller than average, a six-footer, in fact, and heavy, thick in the body; he made an imposing figure in his uniform.
“Mr Farthing! One more word of complaint and I shall see you thoroughly caned. I may well do the job myself, and then you will not sit down for a week! Do you understand me, boy? You may be your mother’s darling, but you ain’t mine!”
Farthing burst into outright tears.
“Take him away, Sergeant Bacon. Get him out of my bloody sight!”
Billy saluted, about faced, politely addressed the weeping boy.
“After you, sir.”
Captain Higgins saw that the boy was not about to move, and knew that Billy dared not lay hands on an officer, even one so unlikely as this. He raised a boot, planted it on Farthing’s backside and straightened his leg, hard. The boy fell through the door, staggered against the wall. Billy followed, marching him out of the offices, bellowing the time in his ear.
There was an area of grass behind the company offices, out of sight of the barrack rooms and as secluded as could be found on the camp; Billy marched Mr Farthing there and called him to attention, demonstrating the stance and correcting his many mistakes.
Ten minutes brought Billy close to despair. The boy seemed almost devoid of muscle, was apparently incapable of standing straight; he slumped for being unable to maintain any other posture. Billy persevered and discovered that Farthing was not especially bright, either; he had to be reminded repeatedly of the motions demanded of the few commands he had to master. When the order was given to march Billy had to explain several times that ‘by the left’ meant moving the left leg, accompanied by the right arm; this dichotomy seemed particularly hard to attain.
He took the horrible youth to musket drill with the company, set him to one side with Corporal Gloag to show him how to hold and carry the musket and then go through the simple process of the load. At the end of an hour he had Gloag bring the boy to his mark to actually fire
a shot.
“I’ve never seen the like, Sergeant Bacon! He can’t carry the weight except with a great heft of the arms!”
They watched as Farthing struggled to hold the musket at the horizontal, the muzzle wavering at least a foot up and down.
“Cock your lock!”
The boy made two attempts, finally had to lower the musket and grip the hammer and heave it back before resuming his attempts to hold the barrel steady.
“Take aim!”
“Fire!”
The musket crashed and the weakling fell backwards, landing hard on his backside, the musket clattering across his shins and bringing another outburst of tears.
“Ow! That hurt me!”
“Corporal Gloag, take the company back to barracks. Make and mend for the afternoon.”
The company marched away, tittering but perfectly happy to be given an unexpected couple of free hours.
“For God’s sake, Mr Farthing! Have you no pride? To make a performance such as that before the private soldiers, sir!”
“Don’t you shout at me, Sergeant! I am an officer, I will have you know!”
“Then I suggest you try to act like an officer, sir! Now stand, and pick up that musket!”
Rather than attempt to make him fire the piece again, Billy contented himself with ten minutes of drill, sent the gentleman staggering off to his billet, exhausted, at the end of it.
Billy went in search of Captain Higgins.
“I saw, Sergeant Bacon. I was watching from behind you, out of sight. What is to be done?”
“I do not know, sir. I cannot beat the boy into obedience, yet I fear he will make no effort for anything less. He will never make a soldier, sir.”
“He must, Sergeant Bacon. I shall speak to Colonel Searson. Other measures must be taken, I fear.”
What the measures were, Billy was not told; Ensign Farthing was taken out of the barracks that afternoon, driven off in a post-chaise; his trunk and valises were tied to the boot.
Clarence, as ever, could provide enlightenment.
“The family must have paid through the nose to get a commission for one of their boys. They probably think they cannot manage it twice, having called in the favours they are due at a very high level in Horse Guards. This one is not a Militia officer becoming a Regular, but a true Regular commission with none of the Militia stigma to carry through the boy’s career. Now he is proposing to waste it, for being incapable of playing the man’s part! They will not tolerate that, you may be sure. As for Captain Higgins, I expect that if you were to look into his family, you would find that there is a marriage somewhere that relates him to the Searsons, a second cousin or such, which is why the boy was put into his company. When Captain Higgins takes his retirement he may well be looked after by the family, just as long as he has played his part properly.”
“So, that is why he is worried that the boy may not make an officer. It is also why I must make something out of nothing, Clarence, and I don’t know that I can!”
“’Do not’, Billy – keep up the accent and the proper words – we shall make something of this battalion. For ourselves, that is!”
The battalion readied itself for service overseas, which involved packing up the officers’ comforts from their mess and very little else. The men were issued with new shoes and sleeveless waistcoats in place of the thick wool they originally possessed; they were given linen trousers as well, not to be worn until they actually reached tropical climes. Other than that, nothing.
Billy pulled his company together, made suggestions as to purchases they might find wise, knowing they would do their best to steal from his list, having no money to buy with.
“Extra water bottles is your biggest single need, and there’s no way of getting them issued.”
He still had a few guineas of his own, the proceeds of the pistols safely tucked away; he went into the small town that afternoon with the intention of using his money practically. There was an apothecary, just the one, and stocked so poorly as to be almost useless for Billy’s needs.
“Bark, soldier? Peruvian bark, I presume you to mean. None of that here, young man; we have, I venture to suggest, very few cases of recurrent fever hereabouts! I do not know where you might purchase bark, except, perhaps, in a sea-port.”
The story was the same in the hardware store – they had no call for water-bottles.
The gunsmith was more useful, being able to supply a short-barrel, heavy calibre pistol and loads of buckshot suitable to it. The man was curious, wondered what need a soldier might have for such a weapon.
“Snakes, sir. They are to be found in the hot countries, far more than in Old England. A pistol is better than a musket, snakes generally being spotted close-to and moving fast. A charge of heavy shot kills more efficiently than a ball, sir. Short-barrel for being easier to tuck away in a knapsack, sir. If I might say so, sir, it might be a recommendation to any officer who comes to you for his personal equipment.”
It made sense.
“You have been to a tropical posting, sergeant?”
“India, sir.”
“The worst of all, so I am told, sergeant. You should know what you are talking about. Four guineas, to you, sergeant, powder and shot thrown in.”
The price was ridiculous, more than twice as much as was reasonable; Billy shook his head and left. It seemed that soldiers were fair game in the little town; he would do without a snake pistol – he had survived India without one.
At the end of his afternoon he had purchased a razor, his old blade close to wearing out, sharpened to wafer thin, and nothing else that he had hoped for. He decided to keep his money in his purse and try again in Bristol.
Clarence was entertained that he had ever hoped to buy in a town such as Warwick.
“The red coat is hated in these towns, Billy. If they have the goods they will not sell to the likes of us, except at exorbitant price. You are lucky that the gunsmith did not send for the constable at sight of you in his shop! As for the pharmacy – the most of that sort would not sell you medicines if they possessed them; they would far rather that you died than were cured.”
Billy was shocked – he had not previously encountered the reality of being a soldier in England.
“I had not realised it was that bad, Clarence. Why?”
“Cromwell, perhaps. The Army has been distrusted in England ever since his day. I do not really know, Billy. It is a fact though – officers are gentlemen, other ranks are not and that is the end of it. What has happened to your little officer, Billy? Where has he gone? You have not buried him of a dark night, have you?”
“Taken away in a post-chaise, as you know, Clarence. Where to and why, I don’t know, but he ain’t come back.”
“Sent home to mama with a flea in his ear, perhaps. But I do not know what good Colonel Searson thinks that will do. She has not made a man of him in sixteen years; I do not know how she will change him in a week.”
They began to prepare for the march, which involved the sergeants in very little bother at all. The colonel and his second-in-command and the adjutant had much to do in planning the route and arranging in advance for billeting and feeding the men at each stopping point; the company officers were obliged to ensure that their men were properly equipped and ready; the sergeants had merely to listen to orders and be sure that the men had shoes on their feet.
Captain Higgins had never been involved in a march of any distance; he had joined as an ensign and become lieutenant in a battalion of militia which had remained for years in the turbulent streets of Birmingham. His father had obtained him a captaincy in the Warwickshire Fencibles when they were created, shifting him the few miles to Warwick on Colonel Searson’s word that they would be made into regulars, but he had continued effectively in the same way as in the militia.
“What particularly must I do on the march, Sergeant Bacon?”
“Show yourself to the men, sir. Let them know that you are there and watching them. Be present e
very morning, sir, and observe the men as they form up. I shall report to you or Lieutenant Whitaker, sir, that all are present and correct, except when they ain’t, that is. If so be any are under the constable’s arrest, or otherwise absent, you will know and take immediate action, sir. Call them as deserters, or take yourself off to Colonel Searson to beg for an immediate disciplining, sir. If I may suggest, sir, on the first occasion that one of ours is taken up by the local magistrates, then request the colonel to intercede, and have them marched before him and given an immediate five dozen, there and then. The magistrates will approve, sir, and will be less likely to complain to Horse Guards, unless it is a capital crime, in which case a court martial would be needed and that would be difficult to arrange.”
“What do we do then, Sergeant Bacon?”
“Discharge them from the battalion, sir. Take away their red coats and officially place them in the custody of the constable. If the colonel could then offer to pay the costs to the parish of keeping them locked up until they can go to Assizes or Quarter Sessions, sir, then the magistrates will still be happy.”
“Could we not court-martial them at the drum head and hang them ourselves?”
“No, sir. Take too long. Couldn’t get them tried and turned off on a local gallows in less than half a day, sir, and then we would not be able to make the day’s march.”
Captain Higgins was impressed by the practicality of the answer; that was the advantage of a regular sergeant, he realised.
“Beg pardon, sir, but will Ensign Farthing be joining us at Bristol?”
“An Ensign Farthing will do so, Sergeant Bacon.”
Captain Higgins smiled his satisfaction as Billy clearly showed that he did not understand; it was pleasant to be up on the knowledgeable sergeant.
Billy mustered the company in full marching order on the drill square on the morning before they were to leave, inspecting each man for a final time, and satisfied with all that he saw, though grudging in his praise. It would not do to let them know that he thought them now to be a very good bunch of men.
Billy Bacon and the Soldier Slaves (Colonial Warrior Series, Book 1) Page 10