A Regimental Affair

asked Sarah Maitland. A Lennox, even one who had made an improvident match (all society knew the Duke of Richmond’s opinion of his daughter’s choice), would always be an apt supporter.

And so, the prayers and promises done and the godparents having certified, as they were required by the Prayer Book, that ‘the Child may well endure it’, Dr Strachan dipped his charge ‘discreetly and warily’ into the water, and declared, ‘Georgiana Charlotte Sarah Elizabeth, I baptize thee in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.’

Afterwards they sat down to a dinner which would not have dishonoured Longleat. The Maitlands’ chef had at his call fish of the first quality, goose both wild and fattened, and all the ice he could ever wish for to prepare his confections. And Hervey had laid in champagne, hock, burgundy and good tawny before they had left England. The hour was very late, the cigars were making the air thick, and Hervey had not thought once in three hours of his disagreeable commanding officer, when a note from Major Lawrence was handed to him. It read, ‘Please be so good as to come to my office the very first thing tomorrow so that I may apprise you of orders just received from Quebec.’

‘No reply, Johnson,’ he said, taking a long draw on his cigar.

Johnson retired silently with the tray like a seasoned footman.

Hervey sighed to himself: orders just received. This was his life, and the interludes of domesticity were always going to be hostage to the Horse Guards’ will. But now, of all times, he thought himself deserving of a little peace.

‘Hervey, there are times, let me tell you, when I wonder if our masters in London do not believe that America is any more a foreign part than… well, Wales!’

Hervey smiled half-heartedly. He had had little sleep that night; he had even arrived at the Indian office before Major Lawrence. He felt himself in no position to judge the superintendent’s proposition, besides which, he was not entirely sure to which masters in London he referred.

‘I would have said Ireland rather than Wales,’ continued Lawrence. ‘But I do believe there is a greater readiness to see the native condition of that place than there is here.’

It was a moot point, and ordinarily Hervey would have liked to debate it.

‘It’s the same in every department, Hervey. The War Office never fails to misunderstand the nature of the country. The Admiralty’s no better, mind. D’you know that when the war of 1812 began, they sent out great coppers to the shipyards here for the men-o’-war on the Lakes to store water in?’

Hervey’s blank response was evidence that Lawrence’s point had escaped him.

‘They’re the largest sweetwater lakes in the world, Hervey!’

‘Oh, yes, of course.’

‘It’s no shame that you do not twig the matter, but one might expect more of their lordships. And now the Foreign Secretary instructs,’ Lawrence read from a sheet of paper, ‘that we “render every assistance to the forces of the United States in the suppression of the Indian resistance on their western frontier”!’

Hervey thought for a moment, puzzled by the vehemence of the superintendent’s opposition. ‘Is that so wholly bad?’

‘Hervey, did you hear anything I said when last we spoke? Our relations with the Indians in Upper Canada have on the whole been happy — the result of prudent policies. But of late the relations have been tried by any number of little things. If we take a hand against the nations in the United States — whether they be enemies of the Canada nations or no — there are bound to be consequences, ructions.’ He raked the stove vigorously to let the wood ash fall and the flames have more updraught. ‘Since the affair at Niagara — the two affairs at Niagara, I might add, now that your commanding officer has entered the lists — the Indians do not trust us as before. The Six Nations, especially, believe we will sell them cheap at some time in the future. This is the very worst thing we could be doing. And it comes from ill-advised folk in London with not a notion of the frontier — or, indeed, a care.’

The lament of a field officer that London did not know or care was not new to Hervey. He had heard it in much the same measure in the Peninsula, and lately in India. But Lawrence’s tone was unusually strident. ‘I don’t really understand why the United States should need our help, anyway,’ he replied, shaking his head. ‘Let’s be frank: their army worsted ours at New Orleans.’

‘Ah,’ nodded Lawrence, as if what he was going to say would entirely prove his contention. ‘Their army consists now of infantry, artillery and engineers. They have no cavalry.’

‘What?’ said Hervey, unable to conceive such a thing was possible. ‘You mean none at all?’

‘No, none at all. They stood ’em all down two years ago, as soon as the war was ended.’ Rattled though he was, Lawrence could still manage a smile: ‘Dear stuff, cavalry!’

‘The want is evidently costing them dear at present. And is that what we are to do? Send them cavalry?’

‘Yes, that is what they’ve asked for. To Detroit, to be precise.’

‘Where is that?’

Lawrence pointed on the map.

‘But that’s two hundred miles, by the look of it.’

‘A little more, although the road is good. But at this time of year the going will be hard, to say the least. Now look, the DAAG agreed to let me tell you of the situation and mission in general terms, and then he will discuss with you whatever detail you feel is unsettled. He’s having a copy of the commander-in-chief’s orders made, detailing the limits of your intervention — which, I am sorry to say, do not seem great.’

Hervey nodded. ‘Very well. Who are these Indians who give the Americans so much trouble?’

Lawrence put more wood into the stove. ‘You recall what I said before about the disparate treatment of the nations by ourselves and the Americans?’

‘Yes, in broad terms.’

‘The Shawanese are one of their trickiest problems in this respect. They’re a Tennessee and Ohio nation, and they fought the colonists there tooth and claw. Then the authorities made various deals with them, and served them very ill indeed, and now they’re pretty well rootless. They broke up into any number of groups last century. Some moved to the Carolinas, some west, some northeast. But one of the groups was with Tecumseh, and they were dealt with very sorely by the Americans just a year before the war began — at a place called Tippecanoe River. They broke up their settlements while the braves were away. The name’s enough to make a Shawanese boil now. It seems they’re implacably opposed to any further treating with the American Indian Department.’ Lawrence paused to light a cheroot.

Hervey was already taking notes. ‘How warlike a tribe are they? In nature, I mean.’

The superintendent took a long draw, and sighed. ‘Well, who knows? The guts may have been knocked out of them these past three or four years. But I’ll say this: the Shawanese were consistently the most warlike in first opposing white settlement. I think they’re a very embittered nation, now — not given to parley. And any embittered Indian can be a fearsome warrior. There’s a group trying to move up into Michigan, perhaps across the border even. The Shawanese are Algonkians, not Iroquois, but since the war they’ve felt they had more in common than held them apart. I believe the Six Nations would allow them space. We’re not talking of many hundreds, after all.’

Hervey listened for another half-hour, making copious notes, taking down suggestions, asking any and every detail. By the end he was reassured that he had a picture that would serve him well, though he suspected that ultimately his orders would hardly permit much discretion. It was a great comfort to know that the superintendent himself would come with him to Detroit, even if only for a few days.

Henrietta bore the news as well as she had that of Hervey’s patrol to Niagara, although here was a mission of perhaps months rather than a week. She said, very assuredly, that as soon as it was apt she would travel to Detroit to be with him. How Caithlin Armstrong received the news Hervey did not know. It troubled him to be putting husband and wife asunder at such a time, and he had even thought of leaving Serjeant Armstrong at Fort York in charge of rear details. But that would have been irregular, and Armstrong would never have had it anyway.

Hervey’s orders specified not fewer than fifty sabres, and that taxed the troop sorely, what with sickness and general duties, but he managed to draft something that would serve. He gave over the orders to Seton Canning the next morning, and then took two days alone with his wife and daughter while the troop made ready. He imagined, too, that he would know by the end of this brief furlough what was to be done respecting Lord Towcester — what