at Talavera de la Reina, following from a continuous period of many weeks’ marching, of which the members of the court will be only too perfectly aware. Although the horses of the regiment were in pretty good condition, as its veterinary surgeon would testify, Cornet Daly’s second charger, a brown colt, was suffering from lampas. As a result—’
The judge martial looked up from his ledger and turned to the president.
The president had anticipated the enquiry, however. ‘Mr Barrow, would you explain, for the benefit of the court, what precisely is lampas.’
The adjutant lowered his page of manuscript. ‘Mr Knight, the veterinary surgeon, will be able to give a complete description, sir, but in essence the lampas is an excrescence on the first bar in the roof of the horse’s mouth, not common but prevalent in younger animals from irritation occasioned by the growth of or changes in the teeth. It may also occur in horses at work from inflammation set up by injuries from the bit. I trespass further on the veterinary surgeon’s ground when I say that in the past the treatment was frequently the burning out of the excrescence, but that recent practice has tended away from this, and to treat instead by frequent washing of the mouth with an acerb mixture.’ He waited for acknowledgement that his explanation would suffice.
The president looked at the judge martial, who nodded. ‘Very well, Mr Barrow. Would you say that the nature and treatment of this condition is of essential substance in this trial?’
The adjutant smiled slightly. ‘Sir, my own knowledge of both is not greatly more than that which I have just rendered to you, and I have not found it difficult to reach a conclusion.’
The president, while not reflecting the smile, evidently found the reassurance welcome. ‘Very well, but I may require the veterinary surgeon to give his professional opinion in the matter separately to any other evidence, and if necessary at an early stage should it become apparent that the court has need of it.’
The adjutant looked not the slightest perturbed at the prospect of departure from his carefully prepared script. ‘Of course, sir. If I may continue now?’
The president nodded.
‘Mr President and gentlemen, as I was saying, Cornet Daly’s colt was suffering from lampas, to an extent that made it unfit for service. The veterinary surgeon prescribed the washing treatment I referred to, refusing Mr Daly’s request for firing. Later that evening, Mr Daly took it upon himself to burn out the lampas. The veterinary surgeon will testify that in his opinion the procedure was done ineptly, and that in consequence the animal died from a condition which he will refer to as “the shock”.’
‘One moment, please,’ said the judge martial, turning to the president for his approval, and then back to Barrow. ‘You say, Mr Barrow, that the veterinary surgeon is of the opinion that the procedure was done ineptly. Is there any suggestion that it was unauthorized? An improper procedure?’
Again, Barrow did not flinch. ‘The horses of the regiment, be they owned by government or not, are deemed to be in the King’s service, and the veterinary surgeon is responsible to the lieutenant-colonel for the treatment of all sick animals. To that extent, Your Honour, if a treatment is not authorized by the veterinary surgeon, it is an unauthorized procedure – an improper procedure, yes. And in the case of Mr Daly’s colt, the veterinary surgeon will testify that he specifically forbad the firing.’
The judge martial wrote in his ledger very deliberately. His knowledge of the military was limited, and it was his first trial in the field. It was, indeed, the first trial in the Peninsula at which a judge martial had been present, and the first in which the new rules of procedure –
‘Very well, Mr Barrow,’ said the president, sounding perfectly certain.
‘Sir. After Mr Daly had burned out – had
The judge martial stopped writing again. ‘Which is it to be, Mr Barrow? I should like to be certain. Did he burn out the excrescence or no?’
Barrow hesitated. ‘It is my understanding, Your Honour, that Mr Daly failed to burn it out. But to what extent he failed I must refer to the veterinary surgeon.’
Hervey, sitting bolt upright still, felt an anxious twinge at the way the questioning appeared to be going. Did the judge martial believe that Daly had a right to attempt the procedure? It would be but a short step thereafter to consider the colt’s death to be the unavoidable consequence, the occasional price, of a practice accepted by some parts at least of the veterinary profession. It boded ill.
‘It’s not true!’
Daly’s protest stunned the court.
‘I burned it out good and proper!’
Daly’s escort clapped a hand to his shoulder, and Lieutenant Beale-Browne tried to stay the protest by seizing his arm.
‘That so-called—’
The president growled. ‘Mr Daly! Compose yourself, sir! You will conduct yourself as if on parade. You will have ample opportunity to state your case.’ He turned again to the adjutant. ‘Continue.’
Whatever doubts he entertained still about the wisdom of accepting a commission, Lieutenant & Adjutant Ezra Barrow, sometime serjeant-major of the 1st Dragoons, perfectly concealed it. And if Lord George Irvine, who had brought him in from the Royals, had ever entertained a moment’s doubt as to his man’s capability in the arcane proceedings of courts martial, he could now rest, for Barrow stood erect throughout the interventions and the altercation with not a flicker of distaste or dismay. ‘Mr President and gentlemen, the prosecution will call as witness Serjeant Treve, who was regimental orderly quartermaster that evening, and who will testify that on doing his rounds of the horse lines he came across Cornet Daly and the colt, which was lying distressed, and that he instructed H Troop’s duty dragoon to summon the veterinary surgeon. At this Cornet Daly protested, very strongly; indeed, intemperately.’
‘That’s not true! Treve was—’
The president exploded. ‘Mr Daly! I have warned you once already, and I would have thought that sufficient for any man! If there is another outburst I shall convict you summarily of insubordination. Do I make myself clear, sir?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Mr Barrow, if this is indicative of the state of discipline in the Sixth Light Dragoons then I am very much of the opinion that we shall not arrive at any satisfactory judgement in the matter before us.’
The adjutant bridled at the imputation, as did the Sixth’s assembled officers, Lord George Irvine not least. Restraint prevailed, however, helped to no small extent by the judge martial, who leaned over and whispered in the president’s ear.
When Colonel Pattinson resumed, he sounded, if not exactly chastened, more circumspect. ‘Mr . . . Beale- Browne, be so good, sir, as to instruct Cornet Daly to direct any remarks to the court through you, his defending officer.’
Lieutenant Beale-Browne, already on his feet, bowed. ‘Very good, sir.’ He had thought for an instant to beg the defence of Irish temperament, but then thought better of it.
The president turned back to Ezra Barrow, with a distinctly dyspeptic look. ‘Proceed, Mr Barrow; and as succinctly as may be.’
The adjutant had no intention of proceeding otherwise. He had spent the previous day, and had been up half the night, preparing his summary of evidence. His milieu was the stable, the parade, the field day and the orderly room,
‘Mr President and gentlemen, as I was saying, Cornet Daly protested strongly to Serjeant Treve that he was