Hervey 10 - Warrior (19 page)

'Well, my dear Colonel Hervey, I shall pray that you are all three restored to each other soon and in perfect health. Bird and I have had the great good fortune to spend the better part of our days in each other's company. It does not do, you know, to become too accustomed to these absences, although it is of course the lot of any of my sex that marries a soldier.'

Hervey shifted awkwardly in his chair at the marital contentment on his either hand. He might have replied to Mrs Bird that it was the determination to accompany her husband that had killed his first wife, but he could not be so cruel (to her nor himself). 'Just so, ma'am,' he replied softly, instead.

'And what do you do then, on return to England, Colonel?'

He brightened at the opportunity to change the subject, before realizing he would be giving further evidence of marital imprudence. 'I go to the Levant, to observe the war with Turkey.' And then, as if a plea in mitigation, he added, 'But I do not suppose the war will last beyond the spring.'

Mrs Bird nodded, and smiled understandingly. 'You are a young man, Colonel Hervey; you need to hear the sound of the guns. Bird was long ago reconciled to his calling with the quill.'

After two curry dishes (fish and mutton), a
bêche de mer,
a savoury of guinea-fowl, Constantia wines of very fine vintage, and easy conversation, the ladies retired and the officers congregated at the head of the table. Port and brandy were brought, and then Jaswant ushered out the khitmagars and the Hottentots.

'Well,' began Somervile, lighting a cigar with the silver grenade which Jaswant had placed on the table before himself retiring. 'This is a most felicitous gathering.'

Hervey fancied he knew precisely what his old friend meant. General Bourke was absent on leave, and Colonel Somerset was absent on duty. There was therefore no impediment to his gathering together those he could trust for, if not exactly a council of
war,
then a council of something most hazardous. He supposed that Somervile might have had qualms about the presence of Colonel Smith, an upright, professional officer whose responsibilities as deputy quartermaster-general at the Cape would have him look to Bourke, the general officer commanding, rather than to the lieutenant-governor. Indeed, as the general's chief of staff, Colonel Smith was in a position to refuse all military assistance to the venture, and it occurred to Hervey that the Shakan conception might well be stillborn this very evening. He shrugged, pushed his chair back to extend his legs, and lit a cheroot.

Somervile, having sent a small cloud of cigar smoke ceilingwards, gestured with his glass to the colonial secretary. 'Colonel, will you be good enough to tell these gallant officers assembled what it is that you and I have contemplated these past weeks – the cause of it, I mean.'

Colonel Bird, sitting erect and with neither cigar nor glass to hand, bowed. 'I will, Sir Eyre,' he replied, crisply. 'Gentlemen,' (he glanced at each in turn) 'I first came to the Cape in eighteen hundred and seven, and in every year since then there has been trouble with the Kaffirs in the eastern settlements. Not ten years ago there was a most savage, if mercifully short, war – there is no other word to describe it – with the Xhosa. As a result of which the frontier was more thoroughly delineated, and to the advantage of peace. For a year or two the frontier was indeed quite settled, but it has of late – as I hardly need tell you – been troublesome.'

Somervile interjected by waving his cigar at the assemblage. 'For which I will admit that the land grants in the Eastern Cape have been part cause. The settlers there in late years have too frequently been of a low sort; they have not abided by the terms of the grants, and there's cattle beyond the Great Fish River, where there should be none.'

'Just so,' said Colonel Bird, nodding slowly but emphatically. 'The presence of cattle at the frontier, though no justification for the Xhosa raids of course, is a definite cause of the nuisance. Now, if I may address what might be the perfectly reasonable deduction that if we enforce the terms of the land grants, and rid the frontier of cattle, we will eliminate the Xhosa threat . . . Firstly, such a course would be difficult in the extreme. I do not say that it cannot, or should not, be done, but it would bring the government here in Cape-town into a most invidious and possibly bloody quarrel with the colonists – on whom we rely for militia service, I need hardly add. It would be bound to exacerbate, too, the already brittle relations with the burghers.'

Somervile thrust his cigar out again. 'And the whole Dutch question is of course one that must constantly exercise the government here.'

'The second reason,' (Colonel Bird's tone of voice changed to suggest something more discursive) 'is that it might be argued that the terms of the land grants were too restrictive in the first instance. Parliament cannot on the one hand encourage emigration to those wild parts, and on the other restrict the means of subsistence. It is the considered opinion of the lieutenant-governor that the terms are contrary to natural justice, and that they must soon be formally set aside.'

'It is,' echoed Somervile. 'And although I cannot of course speak for Sir Lowry Cole, I confidently expect that very shortly I shall receive authorization from the War and Colonies Office to rescind the terms.'

Hervey took another sip of his brandy. It seemed to him only right that a farmer be allowed to decide for himself what best to do with his land. But what was the object of all this? It appeared that Somervile intended a course which would bring the Xhosa to a fight. Did he wish to enlist Shaka's support?

Somervile suddenly struck the table with his hand. 'Now, to the meat of the matter! It is my opinion, formed of the no little intelligence received, and' (he smiled) 'personal reconnaissance, that the cattle reiving is what I might call a constabulary affair – of no great moment, though undeniably vexing. It poses no threat to the general peace, nor is it necessarily prelude to hostilities of the kind Colonel Bird describes of ten years ago. No, gentlemen, that is not where the threat to the King's peace lies. It lies further east, towards Natal, and with the ambition of Shaka. He is the true cause of the unrest in Kaffraria.'

And for close on an hour, Somervile expounded on his 'colonial stratagem', and his design for the embassy to King Shaka Zulu.

IX
A GOOD JUDGE OF HORSEFLESH

Next morning

A fresh south-easterly was whipping up a swell as Serjeant-Major Armstrong descended to the lighter waiting to take him to the East Indiaman
Surat.
In this wind, she would get out of the bay without a steam tug, and with not too much work with canvas. Hervey was glad of it; a laboured farewell would be yet another trial for his old NCO friend.

Armstrong turned to look back one more time. Hervey touched the peak of his forage cap, and then Armstrong braced himself, and set his eyes resolutely to seaward, as the lighter cast off.

Hervey watched until it rounded
Surat
's stern, and out of sight, before turning back for the castle.

Colonel Smith was standing a few feet away.

Hervey saluted in the gentlemanlike manner of officers of the same rank – not so very different from the way he had said farewell to Armstrong.

Colonel Smith returned the salute, and inclined his head. 'Tell me, Hervey; I am intrigued.'

'My serjeant-major. His wife died when I was in England.'

'Your bringing him to his ship tells me much.'

'We have been in the same troop since I was a cornet.'

Colonel Smith nodded.

'And you?'

'To say farewell to a King's messenger, an old friend.'

'Ah, yes; he was in the lighter too.'

Colonel Smith hesitated. 'What do you do now?'

'I . . . I think I shall probably go and see what maps there are in the castle. Of Natal, and the Zulus' country.'

Colonel Smith was a severe-looking man, but his face softened just perceptibly. 'I am going to a stud near Eerste River to see a saddle horse. If you would spare me the time, Hervey, I should esteem your advice – a second eye and such like. And there are certain matters touching on what the lieutenant-governor spoke of last night. I would likewise have your opinion.'

Hervey scarcely needed to consider it: the diversion would be welcome. 'I shall be glad to. But I will join you there, if I may. I must first see Edward Fairbrother on a pressing matter.'

The pressing matter was the extension of Fairbrother's commission, his accompanying them to Shaka's country. It was concluded with more despatch than Hervey had expected, however, for Fairbrother said at once that he wished to remain with the Rifles until his 'good friend' returned finally to England. Hervey was much touched by the gesture. Indeed, he was touched and surprised. They had spoken only a little of his serving on during the voyage south. He had supposed that Fairbrother's attachment to soldiery would not long survive their return to Cape Town, for he knew there was much-neglected business of his father's to attend to. He had asked him, just the once, if he would consider coming to Canada with him, but his friend had all but scoffed at the notion. But now (and this much Hervey found characteristic of his contrariness) Fairbrother expressed himself surprised that his friend had doubted he would want to ride east with him.

And so Hervey was able thence to ride to Eerste River, fifteen miles or so east of Cape Town, by the mid-morning, and in good spirits, arriving at the stud farm not long after Colonel Smith himself.

The farm was well set up. There were some handsome buildings, all of one storey, whitewashed, with the distinctive Cape Dutch gables. The fences were solid, straight, pleasing as well as serviceable. And beyond was pasture as green as he would find in his own corner of Wiltshire. Here was a place to foal remounts.

Colonel Smith was admiring a good-looking blood.

'A handsome fellow,' said Hervey, coming up on them unseen.

'Indeed, Hervey, but we would say in the Rifle Brigade that handsome is as handsome does.'

'A phrase I have myself used. A blood might be needless fire, and an entire altogether too . . .'

'I thought the same.'

The breeder became anxious. 'I have another, three-quarter bred,' he tried, his English thick with the accent of Cape Dutch. 'A gelding. I will have him brung, sir. And I have any number of Cape horses.'

Colonel Smith said he was obliged. 'You know these Capers, Hervey?'

Hervey told him how they had lost so many troopers to the
perdesiekt
when they arrived that they had been forced to buy Capers, though not from this breeder. 'There's much to be said for them, since they're salted.'

'How so?'

'In truth I can't say. They haven't all had the sickness. Our veterinarian, an excellent, scientific man, believes it to be some sort of . . . immunity, so to speak, passed from dam to foal. In the blood.'

Colonel Smith looked at him cautiously. 'Very well, Hervey, since you are a colonel of mounted rifles and I merely of the pedestrian variety, perhaps you will tell me what it is that you look for in a horse.'

Hervey checked himself for a moment. Colonel Smith bantered with him, but a man did not lightly admit himself the inferior judge of horseflesh. 'You will know as I that a chain is but as strong as its weakest link, and it is that link which I always endeavour to discover. Mind, if a chain is not tested to the utmost, that link may not fail. Do you intend working the horse hard?'

'I do not see my duties especially requiring it.'

Hervey nodded. 'It's as well to determine these things first.'

One of the breeder's men trotted up the three-quarter bred, a second man behind it with a whip.

'A handsome gelding, Kuyper,' agreed Colonel Smith. 'And he moves well.'

Hervey recollected himself again, for if it were the old trick (and he felt sure it was) it would not do to suggest that his companion fell for it too easily. 'I think we might see how he goes at the walk.'

The breeder bid his men do so, sounding a little piqued.

'I thought it was the
trot
which revealed the most in a faulty action,' said Colonel Smith, but quietly.

'I don't dispute it,' replied Hervey, likewise lowering his voice (the breeder stood closer than he ought). 'But I doubt the action is true. There'll be a severe bit in his mouth, and the whip cracking behind makes him go forward, and the leader then checks him sharply, so the animal's knees go up because his progress is arrested and the impulse is all from behind.'

The leader walked the gelding up to them, and then away again.

'He looks to me straight and level, Hervey,' said Colonel Smith, doubtful.

'I've seen many worse. Yet to me the action is not free enough. He raises his knee too much. And see how he winds his foot. A horse with such an action tires early, and is prone to stumbling. And – here's the thing – I'm certain it's not his
natural
action.'