The Sabre's Edge

February. They blew up the Futtah Bourge two days ago. You really should have seen it - the most monstrous heathen edifice! Though I'm half agreed with those who say we should erect one of our own.' He gestured to where the column had once stood. 'But what an affair it was. You know, we took the place in the end with remarkably little loss compared with these things in the Peninsula. It was all done very scientifically. I'm daily more of a mind that there's so much that could be done to better the business of campaigning. We went to this business, you know, with the same weapons of a hundred years ago.'

Somervile nodded gravely. 'But in the end, it is the breasts of brave men that win the day, is it not?'

'In the end, yes,' said Hervey, reluctantly. 'Though the end has too often been close to the beginning. And for want of imagination by those whose design the battle is. Of that we had ample evidence in Rangoon. But I'm glad to observe also that it was officers' breasts in higher proportion here. General Edwards is killed, and a good many brigadiers and field officers wounded.'

'I am truly sorry in Lankester's regard,' said Somervile, stopping and shaking his head. 'You know I believed him a most admirable fellow.'

'The best,' replied Hervey, simply.

'And I'm sorry that events did not prove you wrong about your cornet.'

'Green, yes. I confess I feel no remorse at having placed him in the position whence he met his death, but I heartily regret the circumstances, for his mettle was not truly determined. But then perhaps it was the best way. If he had dishonoured himself and the regiment, what would follow now? No, it's better, surely, that the regiment believes he died doing his duty, having volunteered for the hottest place. And there's the letter, of course. I've no notion of Green's father, a tea merchant in Lincolnshire as I understand it, but he has lost a son, and it will doubtless go heavily with him.'

^‘And I imagine,' said Somervile, helpfully, 'that having invested so much of his provincial fortune in making a gentleman of him, he would want to be able to tell his family and friends that he had died like one. It is ironic, is it not, that the profits of tea should send a man to die in the very place the profits originate?'

Hervey sighed.

'What of Rose, by the way? I did not see him this morning.'

Hervey brightened. 'Oh, Rose. I confess I was wrong there. He's been the very best of troop-leaders. He was in the storming party. He fought like a wildcat. 'Death, or honour restored' I think his motto was.'

'I am pleased to hear it. A regiment cannot afford to cast aside a talent for battle at such times - even a flawed one as Rose's might be.'

'No, indeed. And the further question in this regard is what shall be Armstrong's reward.'

Somervile nodded. 'Ah yes. Just so. His doings are, by your account, wholly exceptional.'

Hervey smiled. 'Not for Armstrong. But, yes, they are singular for a man whose schooling and obligation are so limited.'

'Then I trust he shall have a prize.'

Hervey frowned. 'Prizes. Now there is a matter for attention.' He reached inside his coat and took out a package of papers. 'General orders; listen: 'Officers commanding Corps and Detachments, are directed to have it particularly explained to the men under their command, and also have it proclaimed in their Regimental Bazaars by beat of Tom Tom, that the Prize Property of every description, taken within the Walls of Bhurtpore, is immediately to be sent and delivered over to Lieut.-Col. The Hon. J. Finch, Prize Agent; and any person found secreting or detaining Prize Property, will be placed in confinement, and punished accordingly.''

Somervile looked puzzled; it was but the usual way with prize money.

'The point is, there has been far too great an expectation of prize money in the army. Durjan Sal's property isn't likely to amount to much, nor his instruments of war either. The real wealth of the place is Bulwant Sing's.'

'Indeed so,' said Somervile, still looking puzzled. 'I am presuming that the agent will determine what is for restitution.'

Hervey looked doubtful. 'That is not my sense of it. The order makes quite explicit that anything taken is, by that fact, prize property. But perhaps that was not the intention. Perhaps the order was written with too pressing a haste.^’ 'Is there anything else?^’

Hervey turned to another of the sheets. 'Indeed there is. The commander-in-chief's thanks to the army.^’ He began scanning it for the titbits. ''The arrangements which fell to the share of Brigadier- Gen. Sleigh, C. B., Commanding the Cavalry, not only during the Assault, but from the commencement of the investiture of Bhurtpore, are to be appreciated by the fact, that none of the Enemy escaped from the Fort but on the conditions of surrender; and that the Capture of the Usurper Durjan Sal, with his Family, and almost every person of rank or authority under him, has been effected through the vigilance and gallantry of the several Corps employed under his command.^’’’

'Handsome, indeed,^’ said Somervile. Then his brow furrowed. 'You know, Hervey, we had a very particular fear for you. Emma and I, I mean.^’

'Oh ... I should not—^’

'I mean that your name at the head of any casualty list would have gone hard with us. There are too many senior officers on that list for it not to be perfectly apparent how the fight went.^’

Hervey nodded. 'Indeed,^’ he said quietly. 'And thank you for those sentiments. It is appreciated, I do assure you.^’

'And speaking of senior officers,^’ added Somervile, brightly, 'you say that Anburey is perfectly well?'

Hervey shrugged and smiled. 'Not a mark on him. He is much grieved, however, by how the mine went. He blames himself for the excess of powder.'

'Not for long, I hope,' said Somervile, his usual cool detachment returned. 'It sounded like science of the most experimental nature, from all you've told me.'

'Indeed it was. And I hope Anburey is duly feted for it.'

Somervile narrowed his eyes a little. 'And what, might I ask, shall Local-Major Hervey expect for his address?'

Hervey shrugged matter-of-factly. 'A brevet, I would hope. Combermere's as good as said so. He wants me to join his staff in Calcutta.'

'You will say yes, of course?'

'I'm very much inclined to, but there's a deal to resolve in the regiment first. There'll be promotion without payment if Joynson gets Sir Ivo's half-colonelcy, but besides Strickland there are two who are senior to me serving on the staff in England, so that will not be mine.'

'It seems unfair since you were the one in harm's way.'

'It is the system.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

PRIZES

Calcutta

GENERAL ORDERS BY THE RIGHT HON. THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL IN COUNCIL

Fort-William, 29th Jan. 1826

A Royal Salute, and Three Vollies of Musketry, to be fired at all the Stations of the Land Forces serving in the East Indies, in honor of the Capture, by Assault, of the Fortified City of Bhurtpore, on the morning of the 18th instant, by the Army under the Personal Command of His Excellency the Right Hon. Lord Combermere, Commander- in-Chief, and the Unconditional Surrender of the Citadel of Bhurtpore, on the same day.

By Command of the Right Hon. The Governor-General in Council,

GEO SWINTON Secretary to the Government.

A month after the salute was fired at Fort William, Hervey and the Sixth returned to Calcutta. It was a good homecoming. Europeans and natives alike welcomed them, and 'Lo, see the conquering hero come^’