Company Of Spears

‘We are quartered in Hounslow, General.’

He nodded again. ‘Very well. I bid you good day then.’

Hervey bowed and let the general walk on to take leave of Lord Bath, before rejoining his mother, who had by now been joined by his sister.

‘Matthew,’ said Mrs Hervey uncomfortably. ‘I would that we take your father home as soon as may be. The air is altogether too chill.’

‘As you please, Mother, but aren’t we meant to attend first on the attorney in Warminster?’

Mrs Hervey had forgotten. She looked vexed, but then composed herself, for it was understood that Daniel Coates had left in his will some appreciation of her husband’s early kindness towards him. Why otherwise should he have been summoned to attend its reading? Her son too: Coates had always spoken of his intention to bequeath him his horses; and, no doubt, there would be other tokens of their friendship… ‘Yes, of course, my dear; it is remiss of me.’ She turned to Elizabeth. ‘You are not summoned, are you?’

Elizabeth smiled patiently. ‘No, Mama, not I.’

‘You travel home in my carriage, Mother,’ said Hervey, replacing his hat. ‘I will go with father in his.’

The reading of Daniel Coates’s will was to be at two o’clock in the offices of Mr Simeon Tegg and Partners in the high-street, but when Hervey and his father arrived they were greeted by the clerk with instructions to repair across the road to the upper room of the Bell inn since a larger number than hitherto was now expected.

Archdeacon Hervey nodded benignly at the intelligence. ‘He had favoured a great many during his life. I imagine that it will be so in death.’

His son thought him probably right, although he was of a mind that Daniel Coates’s charity had never been of the sentimental kind. Coates had brought the Speenhamland system to this corner of West Wiltshire, but he had been a vigorous advocate of public works on which the destitute might labour in return for parish relief, and not everyone of the needy or the poor-ratepayers thought him laudable.

But when they entered the upper room they were taken aback by the number already gathered – four dozen by Hervey’s rapid reckoning, and more still arriving.

‘The entire board of guardians, I think,’ said Archdeacon Hervey, taking a glass of warm punch from another of Mr Tegg’s clerks.

That much did not surprise his son; Elizabeth had told him often enough of Daniel Coates’s generosity to the workhouse.

Before they were too much drawn into greetings and further speculation on the prospects of those assembled, the attorney called the proceedings to order.

‘Gentlemen, I would beg your indulgence: there is a deal to attend to this afternoon. I propose to move at once to a formal reading of the will, thereafter to make some supplementary remarks arising from the late Mr Daniel Coates’s instructions to me, whereupon I shall be at liberty to answer any questions. I should add that as soon as the will is read a copy shall be taken to the offices of the Warminster Miscellany for publication in tomorrow’s edition.’

There were now, by Hervey’s more considered reckoning, upwards of five dozen people in the room, of various degrees and of both sexes. He found himself wondering if Daniel Coates’s estate could truly bear the evident expectations.

‘Very well.’ The attorney opened his portfolio and took out a single sheet of foolscap. ‘“I, Daniel Peter Coates of the Parish of Upton Scudamore, do by this my last Will and Testament give and bequeath to each man and woman in my employ the sum of twenty-five pounds, to my foreman William Costessey three hundred pounds and also to my housekeeper Anne Evans the same sum of three hundred pounds.”’

There was a considerable buzz of surprise and appreciation. Hervey calculated that this munificence towards Daniel Coates’s labourers, servants and two most trusted employees amounted to at least two thousand pounds.

‘“The remainder of my estate, saving the items specified hereunder, and subject to the payment of my funeral expenses, and to fees for the due management of said estate, I leave in trust to the principal benefit of the Warminster workhouse, with the urgent wish that a proper school and infirmary be established therein.”’

The acclamation was loud and long.

At length Mr Simeon Tegg held up a hand. ‘“And I do further leave under the terms of said trust an annuity of five hundred pounds to the Reverend Mr Thomas Hervey and Mrs Hervey of Horningsham, for as long as one or other of them shall live.”’

The buzz of surprise returned, but respectful.

Mr Tegg paused only a moment. ‘“And to Major Matthew Hervey of His Majesty’s Sixth Light Dragoons I leave the sum of ten thousand pounds in trust for the purchase of a lieutenant-colonelcy in any of His Majesty’s corps, and to him also my horses and all their appurtenances, and all military chattels of which I die possessed, this being my most certain act of service to His Majesty, so confident as I am in the loyalty and capability of this officer.”’