Company Of Spears

Hervey raised his hands, conceding. ‘“I was wounded by the spear and it alone can heal me”?’

Somervile thumped the despatch box. ‘Just so! Hervey, it’s a very fair prospect indeed in Africa! What paths of glory, what opportunity for distinction, shall there be in Hounslow?’

VII

THE SECRET THINGS

Next day

Hervey had decided to return early to Hounslow instead of first going to the Horse Guards. He felt certain that postponing his call would not prejudice his purchase, as long as he did not leave it more than a day or so more, and he was sure that the business of the farcy, or whatever was to be Sam Kirwan’s ultimate diagnosis, required discretion. Soon after first parade was ended, he went to his office resolved to give orders to have the three sick troop horses destroyed. He was resolved, too, on getting to the bottom of what it was that the thief-takers at Bow Street wanted of Johnson. But waiting for him at regimental headquarters – and with every expression of exigency – was a field officer in the uniform of the 3rd Foot Guards, and a slightly older man in a plain coat, with the appearance of a member of one of the professions, a lawyer perhaps.

The adjutant ushered them in to Hervey’s office. ‘Major Dalrymple and Mr Nasmyth, sir.’

Major Dalrymple saluted; Nasmyth, carrying his hat, bowed.

Hervey, who had removed his forage cap, bowed by return. ‘Gentlemen.’

Major Dalrymple advanced to Hervey’s desk and held out a sealed folio. ‘Will you be good enough to read this.’

He said it quietly, with due politeness, and in a manner that suggested it was by way of preliminaries. Hervey did not reply, instead taking the folio, noting the seal – the London District – then breaking it and reading the memorandum inside:

To the Offr Comdg

Sixth Lt Dgns.The bearer of these presents acts on the authority of the General Officer Commanding the London District, and his instructions are to be followed accordingly.Signed

The Honbl. Anstruther Home,

Lieut-col.

Brigade-major.

18th March 1827.

Hervey looked at the young major of Foot Guards who acted on this singular authority, and then at his plain-coated companion. ‘Very well, won’t you take a seat?’

They all sat.

‘May I offer you some refreshment?’

‘There is coffee being brought, sir,’ said the adjutant.

Hervey nodded and gave him the letter of authority before turning back to his visitors. ‘Capital. Now, Major Dalrymple, what will you have us do?’

‘Major Hervey, you will know of the gunpowder mills at Waltham Abbey.’

It was not couched as a question, but the major paused as if for acknowledgement.

‘Very slightly.’

‘Information has been laid of an attempt this night by armed men to make off with a large quantity of powder. The mills and magazines shall be reinforced, three companies of the Sixtieth Rifles will be posted there after dark, and the conspirators are to be intercepted. You are required to furnish a troop for this purpose.’

Hervey nodded slowly. The experience of furnishing aid to the civil power was not unknown to him, and its attendant perils. ‘Under whose orders shall the troop come?’

‘Colonel Denroche, the district quartermaster-general, shall command all troops. He will follow the instructions of Mr Nasmyth, who acts on the authority of the Home Office.’

Hervey knew who was Colonel Denroche well enough. He looked at Nasmyth, wondering why a man with the authority to give orders to the district QMG should be at Hounslow now. ‘May I ask who are these conspirators?’

Major Dalrymple turned.

Nasmyth replied, scarcely moving a muscle. ‘I am not at liberty to divulge that information, except that I may say they are Irish.’

Hervey frowned. ‘Irish? Why should they want powder?’

‘I cannot think the purpose too elusive, Major Hervey.’

‘Well, it eludes me!’

‘Major Hervey,’ said Dalrymple, wanting to be emollient, ‘I myself am not cognizant of the facts, simply that the orders are properly and legally given. An attempt to make off with powder from the royal mills would seem an unequivocal mischief. I do not think we need trouble ourselves further in these details.’

Nasmyth now leaned forward, better to lower his already sotto voice. ‘I am by no means unsympathetic, Major Hervey. There has been enough these late years to make any officer wary in the circumstances.’

Never a truer word, thought Hervey. It was not the Sixth’s doing, but ‘Peterloo’ and a dozen other affairs paltry by comparison had tarnished the happy Waterloo-hero image. He nodded appreciatively.

‘I understand you to have been in India these five years and more, Major Hervey, but you will surely know that two years ago a bill for the so-called emancipation of Catholics was brought before parliament.’