Company Of Spears

The ground to the left of the Powdermill Lane was firm enough. Hervey reckoned a man could run a good way before tiring. A pity it was not soft going, to let a horse overhaul a running man not too far from the road. He could see the odd fugitive getting into the woods on the common, where he would then have the advantage if he kept his head. If this were the only road approaching the mills (the parallel canal a couple of hundred yards across the common had a towpath, but according to his map little more), it would be well to put the better part of the squadron in the woods to begin with, leaving a strong party of carbines at the inlets where the Powdermill Lane and canal converged. The rest could picket the lane and the towpath and then drive the intruders north onto the carbines like beaters at a shoot. Unless they were given to panic (which of course, being Irish, was a very distinct possibility), or bent on murder, there was no reason why every one of them should not be taken prisoner. And that would be of the greatest advantage to the Home Office in their pursuit of intelligence. He needed to know for certain, however, where the Sixtieth were: close garrison of the corning mills and storage sheds was their task, but he must make sure there was no possibility of their mistaking his men for intruders.

‘Halt!’

A rifleman, green-uniformed and grim-faced, stepped into the road from behind a rhododendron bush. Hervey pulled up at once. ‘Good evening, Corporal. I am Major Hervey of the Sixth Light Dragoons.’

The Sixtieth corporal at once shouldered his rifle and saluted. ‘Sir!’

‘I was hoping to find your colonel.’

‘Don’t know where the colonel is, sir. The captain’s just yonder a couple of hundred yards; at the flour mill beyond the big magazine, sir.’

Hervey was surprised by how far north the picket was posted, several hundred yards from any building; but that was a question for the captain. ‘That will do, Corporal. Thank you.’

The corporal stood aside to let him pass. Hervey touched his hat in reply to the second salute, and put Gilbert back into a trot.

The metalled road now turned into soft track, which in turn all but disappeared at the Grand Magazine. Here was a safe enough place reckoned Hervey: it was entirely surrounded by water, though there was no sign of a guard. He picked his way carefully, wondering how they would fare if there were no moon, for the cloud was becoming heavy.

At the mill he met the officer commanding Number One Company, a young captain who quickly told him of the arrangements. The flour mill, he explained, was owned by the Ordnance; they had bought it to better regulate the flow of water from the Lea to the powder-corning mills, and it was to be the forward company post. His orders were to picket the Powdermill Lane (which Hervey had just ridden) as far as the big bend in the Lea where the sentry had challenged, and, on the other side of the common, south along the canal as far as the old corning house.

Hervey noted the detail on his map, though not without some perplexity. ‘I take it the second company will complete the circle, so to speak. But why are you posted so far from any of the buildings?’

The captain explained that such was the fear of causing explosion, no one with firearms was permitted within a hundred yards of any building.

Hervey knew well enough they sat atop a powder keg but he had rather supposed the intruders posed the greater risk of an errant spark. ‘Very well,’ he replied, a shade wearily. ‘I’ve yet to receive my orders, but I fancy they’ll be to patrol the road north of here, though I could do that well enough with a quarter of the men. Do you have a parole?’

‘Shorncliffe.’

Hervey nodded. ‘The same for both companies?’

‘Ay. And yours?’

‘We shall take “Shorncliffe” too. But I fancy, since we’re hardly likely to meet Slattery’s Dragoons, four legs should be a faithful enough sign. I shall now go to see your colonel. I’ll see you again soon after dark, no doubt.’

The captain returned the wry smile. ‘Join us for dinner if the colonel doesn’t insist on your dining with him.’

Hervey touched his hat. He had always liked the way of the Rifles. ‘With great pleasure.’

By the time Hervey got back to the Four Swans, the deputy quartermaster-general had arrived.

‘Good evening, Colonel,’ he said, dismounting and saluting. ‘Major Hervey, commanding the Light Dragoons.’

Colonel Denroche remembered, and touched the tip of his bicorn.

‘I have explored the mills and met Colonel Agar,’ Hervey began, briskly. ‘He’s much agitated by the restrictions placed on his riflemen – not to approach within a hundred yards of any building. We’ve agreed that I should picket the road north of the Thorogood Sluice, the first inlet to the canal’ (he pointed to the place on his map) ‘and keep a reserve of dragoons to sweep the common land between the Lea and the canal in case anyone gets across the water.’

Colonel Denroche nodded.