been so near killed these past weeks that I begged him to quit so exposed a place when the gallery was dug, but he would not.
And so tomorrow we shall be through and over those infernal walls and be done with Durjan Sal and his usurping band. There shall be two breaches, if all is carried off, and two storming parties are formed of volunteers, in which the Cavalry shall play a distinguished part, I am glad to say. Lord Combermere had at first thought to dismount a large part of the Cavalry, but the arrival of the 1st Europeans lately had rendered that exigency unnecessary. I shall be with the party that storms the main breach, at the Cavalier, along with our Lieutenant Colonel, Sir Ivo Lankester, who rejoined but a fortnight ago and is full of ardour, and Hugh Rose and others.
Then let me tell you now of the particulars of His Lordship's design for battle . . .
Hervey penned two pages more on the vellum foolscap which he reserved for correspondence that would travel a good distance inland, then put down his pen, picked up the last sheet and began to wave it about gently. The air was cold, with not an atom of moisture: it would not take many minutes for the ink to dry. He took up the first page meanwhile and began to read.
When he was done, he picked up his pen again and reached for a fourth sheet. He did not imagine anything, but on the eve of such a battle - in which the Company must prevail, whatever the cost - there were certain 'arrangements' he felt obliged to mention, arrangements which, though the regimental agents in Calcutta and London were perfectly able to expedite them, needed the supervision of someone of sensibility, sensibility of Hervey's own situation.
These things now occupied a good three-quarters of the page - nine or so inches of Hervey's small, neat hand to arrange the future for his daughter, sister, parents . . . and bibi. On this latter he was doubly insistent:
You who know so much of these things, of my own circumstances as well as the travails that might come to a destitute bibi, will appreciate my imperative wish that no scruple should stand in the way of my will in this regard.
And now, if you will forgive my overlong trespass into sentiment, I must say how it has been my very great pleasure in knowing you both, and in the friendship you have unfailingly shown to me. I am proud to be godfather to the offspring of your perfect union, which duty, I most fervently trust, I may discharge to its ultimate purpose.
The sap was quiet, voices hushed, no lights. It was a little before eight, with the merest hints of daylight in the sky behind them. Hervey had not slept. On finishing the letter he had left his comfortable, warm tent and walked the troop lines and then the picket - 'the little touch of Hervey in the night' - before setting off on foot with Green and the others to the place from which they would storm the long-necked bastion. There was a deal of time to wait still, for as they slipped into the trenches in the early hours the word was passed that the mine would be sprung not at eight but at half-past. In order, they were told, to have just a little more light to carry the breach with.
Hervey thought he would rather have a half-hour of dark than of light for such an enterprise, but then he was not an infantryman. If that was Major-General Reynell’s wish - he personally was to direct the storming of the main breach - then be it according to his will.
There were so many senior officers in the sap that Hervey wondered if they might yet see Lord Combermere himself. There was General Reynell, commanding the first division of infantry, a fine, whiskered foot soldier who had seen more campaigning than most men in his thirty years with the colours, and whose appetite for the fight was no less diminished by it. There was Brigadier-General McCombe of the 14th Foot commanding the first brigade, and Brigadier Paton of the 18th Native Infantry commanding the fifth. There was said to be a wager between them as to who would be out of the trench first.
And there was Sir Ivo Lankester, wearing his pelisse coat still, feeling the chill a little but as determined as McCombe and Paton to be out of the trench at once when the mine was sprung. He exchanged a few words with Hervey and Hugh Rose when they were settled, waiting, and then said he would see if he could get a few more yards forward to be next to the brigade commanders for a better view of the explosion.
'He's a spanker all right, sir,' said Armstrong. The consolation in letting Armstrong remain with the sappers was that E Troop and his serjeant-major now stood side by side at the point where must come the decision in this battle. 'I wish
'We'll be grateful of it when yon mine's sprung, sir. I never saw so much powder in my life. They only got the last keg in just before midnight.'
'We must hope for a good pile of stones to scramble up,' said Hugh Rose. 'It'll be the very devil if all it does is rearrange the wall.'
Hervey raised his eyebrows. It would not be the first time if that happened. 'Yes, indeed.' He turned and looked over his shoulder. 'Mr Green?'
'Sir?'
'The lieutenant-colonel has gone up the trench to be with General Reynell. You had better go up and be with him in case he has any orders.'
'Yes sir. Which way is 'up'?'
Hervey was momentarily speechless.
'This way, Mr Green, sir,' said Armstrong equably, making to lead him past Hervey and Rose.
Johnson now wholly recovered the situation, whether intentionally or not. 'Tea, Mr 'Ervey?'
Hervey smiled - though it was still too dark for any to see. 'Do you think it is why I got a ball in the shoulder at Rangoon, Johnson? Because I'd not had your tea at daybreak?'
'Ay, 'appen tha did, sir,' replied Johnson, uncorking his patent warming flask. 'And for you, sir?' he added, directing the question at Rose, having a care to use the less familiar second person.
'Mindful of its possible properties, I should indeed. Thank you,' drawled Rose. 'Do you think we might smoke, Hervey?'
Hervey smiled again. 'I rather think not, Hugh.'
There were a dozen or so of the Sixth in the trench. Their function, along with the fifty other volunteers, was straightforward - to rush the breach as soon as it was made and to hold on to it until the infantry could come up in proper order. It was ever a precarious enterprise. By rights, if the engineers and artillery did their work, it was but a headlong dash into a devastated space and then a few exchanges of fire with those of the garrison not too stunned to raise a musket. The work of carrying the fortress was then the business of the assault columns. But if the breach was feeble or incomplete it was theirs still to take it. And then they might face disciplined volleys, or the raking fire of guns not overturned in the blast. It was vulgarly called 'the forlorn hope', but no one really knew why. One or two were always killed, subalterns usually, well in the van and hoping for the reward of field promotion. But for the rank and file it was not a bad gamble: a good breach was worth a year's reckoning of service.
Not that Hervey or Rose would be in the van. Command of the party was the prerogative of an ensign, always, and today it fell to one of the Fourteenth's, the senior regiment of foot in the army before Bhurtpore. It was Ensign Daly's eighteenth birthday, and he had shaken hands with each man of the storming party, as was customary, before taking his place next to General McCombe at the head of the sap, together with Lieutenant Irvine of the Engineers and, just behind, Sir Ivo Lankester and Cornet Green.
There was more method in Hervey's sending Green forward than merely to give Sir Ivo a galloper. If Green showed a moment's hesitation in leaving the trench then the lieutenant-colonel would see it for himself, and all would be up. But Hervey was not entirely closed to the notion of redemption. He thought it possible that Green, with so many brave men about him, and his blood heated by the occasion, would find after all that he had the resource to do his duty, and that once it was done he would then have appetite for it in the future. However, he had determined one thing: if Green did hesitate to leave the trench - if he were still not out when he himself came up - then he would have him out at the point of the sword.
'A bit confused, I'd say, Mr Green, sir,' whispered Armstrong to Hervey as he rejoined them.
Hervey sighed. 'Well, Sar'nt-Major, there'll be no doubting which way to advance once the mine's sprung, so that's one thing he needn't concern himself over.'
'No, that's true. But I gave him some wadding to put in his ears, and told him to cover them if he got a chance. I've known sound enough men become a mite addled in a thunderstorm.'
