An Act Of Courage

The British Legation, Lisbon, Christmas Day, 1826

If Cornet Laming had once complained of ‘the mummery of a Catholic Lent’ at Lisbon, the Feast of the Nativity could not offend him now, for the clanging joy of the city on Christmas morning was only what the streets of London might be hearing on its own midwinter holyday.

‘Colonel Laming, sir?’

He stopped mid-stride at the gates of the British legation, and turned to see a smart-looking NCO of the regiment that for so many years had been his own – as astonished to see him there as he was that the man should recognize him. ‘Yes?’

‘Sir, it’s Corporal Wainwright, sir,’ said the NCO, saluting. ‘Major Hervey’s coverman.’

Laming half smiled. ‘Indeed! Do you seek me out? How is Major Hervey?’

‘He’s in trouble, sir,’ replied Wainwright, lowering his voice. ‘I came here to tell, sir, but I don’t know who.’

‘Trouble? What sort of trouble?’ Laming glanced about. There was no one within earshot, but it was perishing cold, and the street was no place to hear of it. ‘Come inside.’

Wainwright removed his shako as they entered the legation, a fine palacio not many minutes’ walk from where Hervey was meant to be lodged at Reeves’s Hotel in the Rua do Prior. Laming removed his forage cap after announcing himself to a footman, who showed them to a small ante-room.

‘How do you know me, Corporal?’

‘Major Hervey spoke of you, sir, and you came to the barracks at Hounslow once.’

Laming’s brow furrowed. ‘Are you the man who carried Major Hervey to that ship at Rangoon?’

‘Sir, yes, sir.’

‘Very well,’ said Laming, thoughtful. This was the man who had saved both Hervey’s life and his rein-arm, and by holding a pistol to an army surgeon. Laming was at once disposed to hear him carefully. ‘Tell me what is Major Hervey’s “trouble”.’

‘Sir, the Spaniards have got him prisoner. He’s in Badajoz.’

Laming’s aspect changed in an instant. He scowled like an affronted hawk. ‘How? When? What’s to do?’

‘Sir, it’s a bit of a long story, but—’

‘Sit you down, Corporal,’ said Laming, and warmly, man to man, throwing his cloak roughly over a damask settee and settling in a big armchair. ‘But first, tell me: who else knows this?’

‘Well, sir, those at Elvas know, the general – the Portuguese general, I mean. And Dona Delgado and her father; they’re old friends of Major Hervey’s, sir. I went to them straight away.’

‘Delgado? Baron Delgado, is he?’

‘Sir; you know him, sir?’

‘Many years ago.’ Laming began to think he ought to let Wainwright give a chronological account, but he needed to know one thing more. ‘Who has sent you here, from Elvas to Lisbon, I mean?’

‘The general, sir. Well, he said as I could go.’

Laming frowned. ‘Corporal, I know from Major Hervey what sort of a man you are, but—’

‘No, sir. I mean that when it started to look like they weren’t going to be able to get Major Hervey out of Badajoz I said that we had to tell somebody in Lisbon – the colonel or somebody. The general didn’t want to because he says that it wouldn’t go well for Major Hervey if it got out.’

Laming huffed. ‘And no doubt it would go very ill for the general too!’

‘No, sir, he’s not like that. He’s offered to exchange with Major Hervey, but the Spaniards won’t have it.’

‘I bow to your good opinion, Corporal. So why have you not told the colonel yet? Which colonel, by the way?’

‘Colonel Norris, sir. He’s in charge of the mission here, the special mission, I mean, the one from England. There are three other majors too.’

‘Then why have you not told him? He is Major Hervey’s commanding officer, is he not? Yours too!’

‘Sir. But as I thought of it, coming to Lisbon from Elvas, I don’t think Major Hervey would want it. You see, he and the colonel had their differences about what should be done if troops come from England. The colonel wanted just to go as far as Torres Vedras, sir, but Major Hervey wanted to have men up near the border.’

Laming raised an eyebrow, and sighed. He had heard it all before: Hervey and his certainty. ‘Major Hervey is ever of the opinion that between himself and the commander-in-chief there is but dead wood!’

‘Sir?’

Laming shook his head. ‘No matter. Are you aware of any good reason for Major Hervey’s contrary opinion to that of a superior officer, Corporal? No – that is unfair. Proceed.’

‘Well, sir, as I said, I went to tell Major Hervey’s friends at Belem, the Delgados, and then came here, thinking as I might try to find Major Cope. He’s the Rifles major who gets on with Major Hervey, but he’s not here still, and neither are the others. And I don’t think Colonel Norris is either. So I was just wondering how I could get the message to Mr Forbes, sir. He’s the envoy here, and he seems to take Major Hervey’s side.’

Laming raised an eyebrow. ‘You are remarkably well informed, Wainwright!’

Wainwright was not in the slightest abashed. ‘I am Major Hervey’s covering corporal, sir. I couldn’t do my job right if I didn’t know. That’s what Major Hervey says, sir. He tells me everything. At least, everything he can, sir.’

‘Admirable,’ said Laming, sounding not altogether convinced. ‘Well, I think we may have resolved your difficulty in bringing the matter before the envoy, since that is very plainly what I myself am able to do. But there is now a British general here, and we must inform him.’

Wainwright looked uneasy. ‘Would that be wise, sir?’

Laming’s head rocked back. ‘You are very sure of yourself, Corporal!’

Wainwright said nothing.

‘But then, as I recall, you did aim a pistol at one of your own officers in Rangoon.’

‘Sir, that was because he would have sawn off Major Hervey’s arm if I hadn’t. That’s why I took the major to the ship, sir. The surgeon there was able to save it!’ Wainwright was now sitting at attention.

Laming held up a hand. ‘Hold hard, Corporal! I am by no means of a contrary mind to yours, but this is hardly something that the general is not going to hear of, one way or another. And it would be a deuced fine thing if he did so and then found out he might have had it from his own men earlier.’

‘Sir.’

‘Sit easy, man. Now tell me, why did you go to Baron Delgado?’

‘Because he wanted Major Hervey to go to Elvas in the first place, sir. His brother is a bishop there, and both of them are strong for the regent. And Dona Delgado, sir – she’s his daughter – she speaks English and went with him; the first time, I mean. And then Major Hervey came back here and wrote a report for Colonel Norris, but then later there was word from Baron Delgado that the Miguelites were going to attack Elvas, and so Major Hervey went there again.’

‘Without Colonel Norris’s permission, I imagine?’

‘I’m not rightly sure, sir, but I would think so, yes.’

Laming sighed. ‘Dona Delgado – is her name Isabella, do you know?’

‘Sir.’

Laming nodded, slowly. ‘When the regiment was in Portugal,’ he began, as if explaining to a fellow officer, ‘during the war, that is, we rescued Baron Delgado and his family and brought them to Lisbon. We were going into the lines at Torres Vedras, and the baron had an estate at Santarem, on what would have been the French side. He was an officer in the militia, too, I think. What did they say to you when you told them of Major Hervey?’

‘Sir, Dona Delgado said to come here and speak to Mr Forbes while she went to see a friend of theirs in the government, and then to come back to Belem, where they live, so as to work out what to do next. Sir.’

Laming looked long at Wainwright, trying to judge the affair properly, for here, indeed, was an NCO of uncommon percipience. ‘Dona Delgado – she speaks English well?’

‘Sir. She was married to an Englishman here, a consul.’

Laming nodded again. As he recalled, when first the Sixth’s subalterns had paid court to Isabella Delgado,