Company Of Spears

could walk away at will), and by now the two had struck up more than a professional friendship; indeed, they had forgone all rank. ‘Hervey, do you know what it is to grieve for a woman?’

Hervey spun round. At that moment he felt the most powerful urge to strike Edward Fairbrother, an urge he had rarely felt other than in close action. The impudent assumption! Henrietta was in truth a saddening memory now, not the agonizing daily presence of the first years, nor even the dull remittent ache of the India sojourn. Yet his grief had driven him from the army, had made him for many months a melancholy companion, had sapped at his confidence and his will, distorted his view of humanity and duty, and ultimately led him to question – in many cases without an answer – so much of what he had once held dear. He knew what it was to grieve for a woman.

‘I believe you have lived too long outside decent society else you would never have presumed.’ He spat the words icily, intending to wound as deep by return.

Fairbrother froze. Then he put both hands to Hervey’s shoulders.

Hervey did not recoil, although it was so alien a gesture.

‘My dear fellow.’ The voice was as warm with sympathy as Hervey’s had been cold with anger. ‘I believe I may indeed have lived for too long outside decent society. And in that case, for it was not principally of my own choosing, I beg you would forgive me. It was a most arrogant presumption, and I am sorry for it. I confess that I am altogether too disposed to it.’

Hervey’s face softened. ‘Then we have more in common than you suppose.’ He turned and continued along the broad wooden walk to the quayside. ‘Hadn’t you better tell me what is the pyramid?’

‘Have you heard of General Donkin?’

‘I saw much of his brigade at Talavera.’

‘He was briefly governor here at the Cape. He had been in India, and his wife – of but a very few years – died there, and he was returning with his young son when he received orders to assume the governorship to allow Lord Charles Somerset to return to England. It was he – not Somerset – who put the frontier on to a proper footing. There were settlers arriving from England, and there were many from my old corps too who were being promised grants of land. He surveyed the whole area. And that pyramid is a memorial to his wife.’

Hervey stopped again. He looked at the monument, then back at the brig, from which flat-bottomed boats were already warping her cargo to the landing stages, and then at his new friend. ‘Her name, I imagine, was Elizabeth?’

Fairbrother nodded.

Hervey found himself vowing he would one day do the same, before recalling himself to his senses. ‘I think we may delay our necessary calls and business here. It is a warm day, and I think I would have you know something. Let us find a quiet spot, and I will tell you of why I spoke so sharp.’

Thanks to the fleetness of the lighters, and the address of the postal official and his steam barge, it took but a couple of hours to arrange for the officer commanding the frontier, and the district magistrate – the landdrost – of Port Elizabeth, to receive them. They met at the garrison headquarters, a thatched, stone-walled, single-storey affair the size and shape of the nave of a small English parish church. The officer commanding, Major Hearne of the 49th (Hertfordshire) Foot, greeted them cordially. Hervey had taken the precaution, though his friend wore only semi-military dress, of introducing Fairbrother as ‘Captain’ and aidant. The landdrost, a former officer in the Cape Regiment but now with a prospering farm and waistline, was equally welcoming. They explained that they were of course aware of the arrival of the new lieutenant-governor, and hoped that this presaged greater attention to the frontier, declaring very candidly that General Bourke appeared too encumbered with matters of economy to cast his customary soldier’s eye on the situation.

The four of them sat down to coffee – a fiercely strong liquid made from beans brought from the East Indies – and Cape brandy, much rougher than its French begetter, if not as strong.

‘How much am I to assume you know of the frontier, Colonel Hervey?’ asked Major Hearne.

The officer commanding the frontier was a little older than Hervey, with a broken nose and powder-burn scar on his cheekbone. It was the first time that Hervey could remember an officer of evident seniority – and experience – who was now his subordinate. ‘I have read what there is to read, Major Hearne, but I believe it would be better to assume no knowledge. I have scarce been at the Cape a month, after all.’

‘Very well, Colonel. Perhaps we need go back no further than to 1819. The Xhosa all but overwhelmed the settled frontier, even Graham’s-town. You may imagine they dealt most savagely with either sex. And they in turn were dealt with very severely, at Lord Charles Somerset’s perfectly reasonable bidding. But then, with a most contrary magnanimity, he proceeded to treat with them as if he were at the Congress of Vienna.’

Hervey sipped at his brandy. This much he knew, but he would not interrupt since it was as well to know what those at the frontier believed.

Major Hearne unrolled a map on the table. ‘The principal Xhosa chief was – is – a wily old bird named Gaika. Somerset had him sign a treaty which pushed the frontier east to the Keiskama River’ (he pointed to the map) ‘with the idea that the country between there and the Fish should not be settled, but patrolled to make sure the Xhosa weren’t encroaching – patrolled principally from here, Fort Willshire.’ He indicated the point on the Keiskama nearest the Fish, not five miles north-east, and ten miles due north of the ford and mil- itary post at Trompetter’s Drift.

Again Hervey knew this, but he studied the map closely nevertheless; there was nothing like the proximity of the country to give a map life. He saw that the furthest distance between the two rivers was perhaps twenty-five miles, about the same as from Fort Willshire to the sea, and if the same distance was patrolled north-west of the fort it meant a troop mounted on good horses might make a detailed reconnaissance of the unsettled territory in two days. If they were to make but a cursory search – if the Xhosa left spoor – they might do it in only one. He thought the territory a prudent ‘glacis’ if the Fish River was to be the true limit of the settler parties. But so rangy a border was bound to be a temptation to both sides. ‘And has the scheme been successful?’ he asked, not entirely expecting the answer to be ‘yes’.

‘To begin with, it was. The settlements were well regulated, all of them between the Bushman’s River and the Fish.’ The major glanced at the landdrost.

The landdrost, sweating remarkably heavily thought Hervey for one accustomed to the country (in truth it seemed not greatly warmer than a spring day in Wiltshire), took up the invitation. ‘There are two townships east of here, Colonel: Bathurst, about five miles inland from the estuary of the Kowie, which is the next river west from the Fish, and Graham’s-town, fifteen or so miles further up the Kowie. There is a landdrost at each, who answers to me. They have had a difficult job. Most of the settlers were unsuited to the requirements of agriculture here: they simply did not know how to work the land. General Donkin originally stipulated that only vines and wheat were to be cultivated, since cattle were bound to attract the Xhosa. All other supplies were to come from here, or from Cape Town. But there was persistent corn blight, and many of the settlers began drifting to the townships where the Cape commissariat had set up ration depots. Not surprisingly, the landdrosts began turning a blind eye to the growing practice of keeping cattle – I confess that I myself did so – for without them the settlements here would have failed half a dozen years ago.’

Hervey nodded. ‘And between the Fish and the Keiskama?’

The landdrost tilted his head.

Hervey wanted to be sure. ‘The cattle have been ranging into the unsettled territory?’

‘Some of the Dutch burghers, especially, found the temptation too great. They even began supplying the company at Fort Willshire.’

Major Hearne took back the reins. ‘In the early days the patrols from Willshire were effective in keeping the Xhosa out. And the burghers themselves are sturdy souls: they were more than capable of driving off a reiving party. But of late the incursions have been more determined.’

The landdrost, wiping his brow with a towelling swatch, reasserted his primacy. ‘There has been of late a troubling affair east of Graham’s-town; and Colonel, if you wish to be of assistance to the new lieutenant-governor, I believe you would do no better than take yourself there.’

Hervey looked at Major Hearne.

‘I concur,’ said the officer commanding the frontier.

Hervey glanced at Fairbrother, who shook his head just perceptibly, indicating he had nothing to ask.

‘Very well. You had better tell me of it. And I shall want to see beyond the Fish – see Fort Willshire and the