An Act Of Courage

‘And what did you do?’

‘I instructed the orderly corporal to bring the picket-officer, sir.’

‘So you were then alone with Cornet Daly?’

‘Sir, yes, sir.’

The adjutant turned to the members. ‘Mr President and gentlemen, the prosecution does not intend questioning Serjeant Treve on the period in which there were no witnesses present.’

The president nodded, but the judge martial looked doubtful. ‘For what cause, Mr Barrow? Each of the parties gives evidence under oath.’

Hervey became aware of whispering behind him, Cornet Daly to Lieutenant Beale-Browne.

Barrow resumed. ‘Your Honour, it is the prosecution’s opinion that no good shall come of it.’

‘No good? Mr Barrow, the court is concerned not with “good” but with the law.’

Hervey hoped it would be concerned rather more with justice. And he hoped the judge martial would press to hear the evidence, for he had heard that Daly had become entirely obnoxious during the time before the picket arrived.

‘Nevertheless, Your Honour, the charge against Cornet Daly is substantially proved by the officer’s conduct before witnesses, and with Your Honour’s permission, I will not – at this point at least – examine the witness as to the private exchanges.’

‘Mr Barrow, let me remind you that it is the court which will decide whether or not the charge be proved. Nevertheless, if it is the wish of the prosecution then so be it. Proceed.’

Hervey sighed, but inaudibly. It seemed to him that Barrow was letting off Daly lightly. Why should Treve’s word, on oath, be doubted? He would be as guilty of perjury as Daly.

‘Thank you, Your Honour. Serjeant Treve, tell the court what happened when the picket-officer came.’

‘Sir. Mr Hervey was picket-officer, sir. He came after about ten minutes, not more. He asked what had happened to the colt, and if the veterinary had been called. Sir.’

‘Go on.’

‘Mr Daly said as how it was his business and he wanted Mr Hervey to place me in arrest, sir.’

‘Go on, Serjeant!’

‘Sir, Mr Hervey asked me what I had said to Mr Daly, and I told him what I told you earlier, sir, and said that Mr Daly had been abusive. At that point, sir, Mr Daly said it was a lie and stepped towards me and—’

‘Stepped towards you, Serjeant?’ The judge martial, who alone of those sitting at the members’ table had seen the written witness statements, sounded incredulous.

Hervey was glad of his diligence.

‘Sort of . . . lunged towards me, sir, as if with a sword, though I could see he hadn’t one, sir.’

‘Did you believe it to be in a menacing fashion?’

‘Sir, yes, sir.’

‘You thought Cornet Daly was about to strike you?’

Hervey almost breathed his relief.

But Treve hesitated. ‘To be honest, sir, I cannot recall if I believed Mr Daly was intent to strike me, sir. But he was very angry.’

Hervey groaned.

‘Mr Daly had taken much drink, sir.’

‘Oh, indeed?’ The judge martial looked at Barrow. ‘There is no mention of that elsewhere.’ He turned back to Treve. ‘Did you see Mr Daly consume this drink?’

Barrow’s eyebrows were now rising. He and the lieutenant-colonel had hoped to keep this out of the proceedings.

‘Sir, I did not, sir.’

The judge martial turned to Barrow again. ‘Unless the prosecution intends calling witnesses to testify in very particular terms as to this assertion, I rule that the remark be struck from the record, and that the members of the court take no notice of the assertion. Mr Barrow?’

Barrow shook his head. ‘There is no intention to call witnesses, Your Honour.’

The judge martial now turned to the defending officer. ‘Mr . . . Beale-Browne, may I take it that Cornet Daly will not be entering any plea in mitigation to this effect?’

Lieutenant Beale-Browne’s first instinct was to check the certainty of this with Cornet Daly, but he recognized the difficulties of doing so in front of the court. ‘No, Your Honour.’

‘Very well, then. The remarks will go unrecorded and are to be entirely disregarded by the members of the court. Proceed please, Mr Barrow.’

Lieutenant Barrow found the page in his notes. ‘Serjeant Treve, what happened when Cornet Daly . . . lunged towards you?’

‘Mr Hervey stepped in front of Mr Daly, sir.’

‘And?’

‘I didn’t actually see that well, sir, it being dark, but Mr Daly seemed to be very angry and lunged again, and then I saw him fall to the ground. At that stage, sir, the veterinary came.’

It was the truth, Hervey knew, and if it was not the whole truth then that must be because Treve genuinely could not have seen. The court must conclude that his own blow was gratuitous.

The adjutant turned to the president. ‘I have finished with this witness, sir.’

‘Very well, Mr Barrow. Mr Beale-Browne, do you have any questions of the witness?’

Hervey was conscious of renewed, and urgent, whispering behind him, and wondered what might be Daly’s objection to a most impartial account. How he wished the adjutant had questioned Treve about Daly’s condition that night: it could only have helped his case. Except, of course, that to do so would have risked suggesting the regiment’s discipline was defective, as the president had already intimated, and that would go hard with mess and canteen alike.

Lieutenant Beale-Browne stood up. ‘Only one, sir. Serjeant Treve, the language in which Mr Daly addressed you: though it sounds indelicate, no doubt, in a court such as this here, now, was it unusual for the horse lines?’

‘Sir, with respect, it is most unusual to hear an officer speak in that way.’

There was a degree of throat-clearing in various quarters. Beale-Browne, having done Daly’s bidding in asking the question, might now have withdrawn decently, saving himself – and others – the risk of ridicule. But strong though his own distaste for Daly was, Lieutenant Beale-Browne perceived he had a duty to perform, and when this business was over, from which he knew that none could emerge with much honour, he was damned if he was going to give anyone the opportunity to find him wanting. ‘Serjeant Treve, have you ever before heard Mr Daly speaking in the language, let us say, of the horse lines?’

Treve hesitated. ‘Sir, if I might put it this way, Mr Daly, sir, is known for his colourful language.’

There was more throat-clearing. Hervey groaned inwardly again. Daly would now appear to the court as the quintessential Irish squireen, fond of the bottle, as all his fellow countrymen – ‘splendid fighting men, if unruly’ – his language strong, but affectionately so. Hervey felt the court turning against him even before he had had the opportunity to speak.

‘I have no more questions, sir.’

The president looked at Lieutenant Martyn, who rose quickly.

‘I have no questions, sir.’

The president turned to the judge martial, who shook his head, and then to the members of the court. None had any question.

‘Thank you, Serjeant; dismiss.’

Serjeant Treve sprang up, replaced his Tarleton, turned to his right and saluted, then left the room at a brisk march.

The adjutant got to his feet again. ‘Mr President and gentlemen, I wish to call as witness Veterinary Surgeon Knight.’

The president nodded, and the court orderly went out to summon him.

A full minute passed. Hervey was aware of half a dozen whispered asides and exchanges, but he said