your colonel.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Hervey, a little bashfully.
They walked on a few paces in silence. It was Emma who broke it, and with a change in her tone to something less assured. ‘You are content to be in these parts, then, Matthew? I mean in the Company’s domain?’
Hervey sighed to himself. Was it possible to give a complete answer to such a question? ‘
‘But I know we must strive for it: we cannot be content until the kingdom of God is come on earth.’ She hesitated again. ‘And shall you find here, do you think, the … complete society for contentment?’
Hervey smiled, a little indulgently. ‘My dear Emma, I am a soldier. The past ten years have set their seal on things. I have ever found the centurion’s a sure voice, though.’
‘ “For I also am a man set under authority, having under me soldiers.” ’
‘Yes. And each element derives from the other. You told me how it cheered you so much when Serjeant Collins reported that I had gone back to search for those dragoons. But I could not imagine it any other way. Don’t mistake me. I have no excess of sentiment in this. Had he lived, I would have had that dragoon who deserted brought to the regiment and hanged. And just as surely, I will never be a slave to authority.’
So powerful a testament required a respectful silence, at least for a while. But when they reached the point where the path divided, one way to his quarters, the other to hers, Emma put her hand on his arm again. ‘Matthew, you will ever have loving friends in Eyre and me, and we shall resume our intimacy at Calcutta soon. You will be feted for your feats of arms — and rightly so. But do have a care, for not everything in India can fit so exacting a pattern as yours.’
He smiled again. How well did she understand him.
A trumpet sounded in the lines beyond, at once commanding his attention.
Emma looked dismayed. ‘A trumpet, and at once you forget where you are. How do you know it sounds for
Hervey smiled the more. ‘Madam, every dragoon recognizes his regimental call!’
THE END
HISTORICAL AFTERNOTE
The Burmese were not to be deterred. In 1822 they reduced the kingdom of Assam and the principality of Muneepore. The following year they demanded the surrender of the island of Shaporooree in the estuary of the Teek Naaf, which formed the boundary between Chittagong and Arakan (incidentally, the Karnaphuli, known more usually at this time as the Chittagong river, follows a very different course today). The new Governor-General, Lord Amherst, sent troops to dislodge them, but also a letter to the King of Ava which convinced the Burmese court that the British had no stomach for a fight. The Burmese general and national hero, Maha Bundoola, was despatched with a large army to Arakan with orders to drive the British from the whole of Bengal. Lord Amherst found himself with no alternative but to declare war on the king in February 1824.
The commander-in-chief, Lieutenant-General Sir Edward Paget, had profound misgivings about offensive operations, for in Burma, he said, ‘we should find nothing but jungle, pestilence and famine.’ He therefore favoured a maritime and riverine strategy, and accordingly a combined naval and military expedition was assembled in the Andaman Islands under command of another Peninsular veteran, Major-General Archibald Campbell. To the inexpressible surprise of the Burmese, the flotilla arrived off the great port of Rangoon on 12 May. Thereafter, the expeditionary force, ill-prepared in so many ways, was to discover the truth of the commander-in-chief’s foreboding …
Skinner’s Horse, the regiment of irregular cavalry founded by James Skinner, the son of a Scotch officer in the Honourable East India Company and a Rajput woman of rank, is today second only to the President’s Bodyguard in seniority in the army of India. Skinner’s Horse wear the yellow kurta still, the colour chosen by Colonel Skinner from Rajput legend. A Rajput prince, riding out to fight, would vow that if he could not win he would die. His men, accepting the commitment, put saffron on their faces and a yellow cloak over their armour. These were called the clothes of the dead, and the warriors were known as the ‘Yellow Men’, who would not return from battle unless victorious — they were ‘sworn to die’.
In 2003 Skinner’s Horse, at one time better known to the world, perhaps, as the 1st Bengal Lancers, celebrate the bicentenary of their founding. It is certain that the words given them by James Skinner will ring out on parade that day:
