“You lot. Take up one of these children, they’n fully worn down. We has to get them up to camp.”
Each child was taken into the arms of a marching soldier and Deakin returned to Bridie. His hand gently pushing her shoulder moved her on whilst at the same time delivering comfort, albeit in small and inadequate measure.
“Now don’t you worry none, Bridie. You’ll be looked after and taken care of, you and the children. The lads’ll make sure of that, for Pat’s sake, as much as for yourself and the children. He was a good man and a fine comrade to us all. He took not one backward step in that battle but stood there with us, shoulder to shoulder. We’ve got his things somewhere, what we took out of his pack.”
Then Deakin remembered who had removed the personal items from Mulcahey’s pack, it was Toby Halfway, and where was he? He said no more but walked on beside Bridie, with each child now asleep in the swaying arms of Davey, Saunders, Miles, and Joe Pike, the mighty Saunders carrying the heaviest. They reached the field where they had first settled on their first arrival in Sicily, back in June and formed up by Companies to allow the Roll Call in the growing dawn, and in the light of a lantern held by their servant, each Captain called the Roll. The spaces of silence created by no answer were filled by the distant keening of those whose loved ones should have answered but were now left behind, buried in a grave soon to be ignored by a peasant farmer desperate for the precious space to grow his lifegiving crops.
oOo
The next day, after a short sleep, the battalion awoke and set about their new peace time duties, mostly cleaning and mending until new kit could be issued. Deakin and his comrades made a billet close to the Mulcahey family, as much to see that they received some rations, as to provide comfort in their time of mourning. Whilst checking a boot Deakin looked up and noticed Lieutenant D’Villiers crossing the camp in the direction of the Grenadier Company, hoping to find Captain Lord Carravoy. Deakin pulled on the boot and hurried across to intercept and place himself before the Officer; Deakin standing rigidly to attention.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Sir, but can you help me over what happened to Corporal Tobias Halfway, Sir? He had the swamp fever, Sir, and I was under the impression that you had it, also, Sir. I was hopin’ that you could give me some information, Sir, as to his whereabouts.”
D’Villiers felt himself to be wholly affronted by the sudden appearance of this Corporal, barring his way to where he wanted to go and his face showed it.
“How the Devil should I know, Corporal? We weren’t treated in the same room! The one thing that I do know is that some died, surprise, surprise; and were buried. Some in the ground and some dropped over the side of the boat that brought us back, I think they call that burial at sea.”
Deakin silently took a deep breath.
“Yes, Sir. But perhaps you can direct me to the Infirmary where you stayed, Sir?”
D’Villiers looked at him, trying to think of a reason why he could also condemn that request as being unreasonable. He couldn’t, which didn’t improve his temper.
“Back in the town. A large building…”,
then he thought, to work it out.
“…..off to the right as you go back in.”
“Thank you, Sir. I’m very much obliged for your help, Sir.”
Deakin peeled off an immaculate salute, which was not returned, so he held it until D’Villiers was thoroughly past and Deakin could see nothing of his face. Proprieties observed, Deakin took himself immediately to the tent of Captain Heaviside, where he found the good Captain, not reading his Bible, but poring over his muster rolls. Heaviside looked up as Deakin opened the tent flap and did his best to simulate a polite knock, this being on the tent pole.
“Excuse me, Sir. Beggin’ your pardon, Sir, but I was hopin’ to get down to the town, Sir. The reason bein’, Sir, to find out about Corporal Halfway. He’s one of yours, Sir.”
“I am very well aware of who my Corporals are, Corporal. Deakin, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir. Deakin.”
“You haven’t received my orders, given to Corporals and Sergeants?”
“No Sir. I may have been elsewhere. Sir.”
“Hmmm. Yes, but go tomorrow. Right now I want you here, checking on the men. As of now, we are stood down, but that can change. You check the kit and musket of each man to find out what needs replacing, or even re-issuing, so that their pay can be docked. Go tomorrow, and make sure that I find out about Halfway. If he’s dead, as seems likely, I’ll need another Corporal.”
Deakin made no reply, but simply saluted and left. His immediate return was to the Mulcahey family. Bridie was wearing a black armband, but was busy about the family area, making a stew for the forthcoming dinner.
“Bridie. Are you still getting rations for the family?”
She ceased her stirring within the blackened pot and looked up. The pot contained Deakin’s ration, handed over earlier.
“Yes, Jed. No change so far.”
“Right. That may continue, it may not. It may not when the muster is brought up to date. Depends on the Purser and the Colonel. I’m hopin’ that Lacey, seemin’ a decent man, will see that you’m still supported. Any change, you’ll let me know.
She smiled, which he returned. Her greatest dread was being abandoned with no way of returning home, but she felt more at ease and re-assured. Jed Deakin could mount a watch over her and her children as well as anyone she knew.
For the rest of the day, Deakin followed the orders given and checked each man’s kit and musket. Few were missing anything, and all that was missing was minor. Any major item lost or destroyed had been quickly replaced by taking one from the dead. His major task was to record what had been fairly worn out, mostly boots, breeches and hose. Pay had arrived, the first since leaving England, and many were totting up their meager coins, rueing lost items and cursing their stoppages for food and clothing. Deakin spent the evening with the Mulcaheys, talking to the children and seeing them wrapped up against the chill of the night. With the children asleep he sat beside Bridie. She looked at him and smiled, then turned her face to study the fire. Jed was a family friend of long standing, she saw nothing unusual in the time he was spending with them, acting as the good friend he had always shown himself to be, and properly filling the space left by the death of her husband and his friend. She was grateful.
However, he had made up his mind and drew from his pocket the scarf and brooch, but the pocket furthest from Bridie. Now was as good a time as any.
“Bridie, I’ve got no family, never have had. I couldn’t even tell thee if my Mother nor Father was alive. So, now you’ve got no man, I was thinkin’ that perhaps, if you’m willin’, you might see fit to take me on, like. You know how I do feel for you, and for your children, too. I don’t know if religion could cause a problem, but if you sees it as fittin’, then I was hopin’ we could hook up together.
He paused to gauge her reaction.
“How does that sit with you?”
Bridie looked at him and smiled, at the same time doing her best to repair her hair, a stray piece had come out from her headband. She had no doubt regarding the quality of Jedediah Deakin. She paused a slight while and regarded the fire.
“Alright, Jed. I’m willing. We’ll take each other on. But we don’t sleep under the same blanket for a month or so. I don’t think that would be fitting. It’s too soon, if you follow my understanding.”
“I do, Bridie, and I’m in agreement. Yes, that’s fully right. Pat was a good messmate, so due respect is right.
He brought the scarf and brooch up from his left and passed them across to Bridie.
“I brought you back these, ‘cos that’s what Pat would’ve done.”
She took them and held them in her hands, studying one, then the other, letting the scarf fall from her upraised hand, to regard it in the light of the fire.
“They’re lovely, Jed. Both.”
She smiled and leant over and kissed him. Deakin spoke further.
“To be held in Pat’s memory, I should say. Perhaps your eldest, Jenny, could have the brooch. I don’t know. Your choice.
He paused. They sat in the light of the fire, each regarding the other and both smiling.
“So. That’s all right, then. I’ll tell the Captain, and he’ll pass it onto the Colonel. That’ll keep you on the muster, and the children. You’m my common law wife, until we decides to make a change, or not, that is.”
She spoke softly, still holding the gifts. Her late husband’s memory re-kindled. A tear appeared to roll down her cheek, sparkling in the reflected light of the fire.
“Right, Jed. That’s a comfort.”
He took her hand and squeezed it.
“We’ll be fine. Right. I’m for turnin’ in. Tomorrow I go to see what happened to Halfway, and I’d best go early.
Early next day saw Deakin leaving the camp. Rising early was part of his nature and with the first crack of dawn, he was awake and donning his uniform. He wasn’t challenged at the camp entrance and he knew that his errand should be short. The road back to Messina was not long but winding and skirted by olive trees that would block his view, however, soon he was looking at the outskirts of Messina and then looking over to the right to see if a large house or some such was obvious, but it wasn’t. Cursing D’Villiers for a damn numbskull, he continued on, hoping to meet an Officer or NCO or anyone. A red-coated figure emerged some way off from a track that joined the main road. He felt disappointment, the outline told him that this was just a soldier, unlikely to know; he could see the cross belts, the rolled blanket behind his head, the erect musket and the figure showed no arms because his thumbs were tucked into his webbing and musket sling. They drew closer and the face grew familiar, but more thin and haggard than he remembered, he didn’t look in the best of health, but a few more yards made him certain.
“I reckoned I’d be needed to guide you back to camp. You couldn’t find your arse if they fixed a candle on it. And you’ve gotten thin!”
The two did no more than slap each other on the arm and grin.
“Come on. I’ve got something saved for you. I know how partial you are to a bit of cheese, and there’s some sausage, too. And by the way, I’ve taken on Pat’s family. There’s a chance that me and Bridie will get spliced, so you’m the uncle now, you’ll have to be their uncle Toby.”
The two quickly fell into step, side by side.
oOo
Obediah Hill stood before the ancient olive tree at the entrance to their camp. Taller than most of its genus, the venerable olive provider had a conveniently long trunk on which notices could be fixed and he was regarding one, evidently the latest; for it had suffered no wind damage, as yet. His mouth worked with his thoughts, such that the movement extended back to his extensive sideburns that covered half his face forward from his ears. The notice was brief and to the point.
Challenge for a Prizefight
A match made for 25th August
Purse of 30 Guineas
Winner takes all
To fight Nat Pearce of the 20th Light Dragoons
Champion of the 3rd Brigade, Light Cavalry.
Colonel Reede-Smythe
20th Light Dragoons.
Hill removed the notice and walked with it through the camp to where he knew the Light Company was bivouaced. He looked around but almost immediately saw the person he was looking for and walked forward.
“Davey. Be this of any interest to you?”
John Davey took the notice from the outstretched hand, a hand much misshapen from the working of a flintlock. Davey took his time to read it.
“What about Saunders? He’s big enough.”
“True, but he’s no pugilist. Ain’t never been in any ring, and if this Dragoon be some kind of champion, he’ll know what he’s about.”
Silence fell, as Davey again read the words, but it was Hill who broke it.
“30 guineas, John. You could buy a small holding for that, or some kind of cottage. I’ll not push you; I’ll wager this Dragoon’s no dunce in the ring, but I thought you’d like to be made knowing, at least.”
Davey’s face became deeply serious, almost depressed.
“Yes, Corporal, I’m obliged. Thank you. I’ll give it some consideration.”
“Right you are, Davey, but just one thought. This Dragoon’s been on a ship, and then been riding his horse for nearly a month. His wind won’t be too sound, whilst you, you’ve been marchin’ and jumpin’ about to the tune that Carr blows for you. That’ll be one thing in your favour. Small, but it’s there.”
Davey nodded and they parted company, with Davey still holding the paper. He went and sat with Miles and Pike, and Mary who was still clinging to Pike’s arm as though she hadn’t let go since they were re-united by torchlight. The scarf was tied about her neck and frequently checked upon. Miles noticed the paper.
“What’s that you got there?”
Davey handed it over and Miles read it slowly. His reaction came immediately after he had read it.
“What’s it to you? You ever done any prizefighting?”
Davey nodded.
“Fairgrounds and such.”
Miles again regarded the notice.
“30 guineas is a tidy sum. Very tidy.” Miles paused. “What do you think?”
It was Davey’s turn to pause.
“I suppose I’ve got to give it a go.”
“There’s no “got to”, John. Prizefighting can really do you up, even kill you.”
“I know, but like you say, 30 guineas is a tidy sum.
He looked again at the notice, then looked up.
“I’ll give it a go.”
Miles paused and looked at Davey, but saw nothing that spoke of any eagerness, but, nevertheless, what he had said; he had said.
“Then we’ve got to take up the challenge quick, ‘fore someone else does. And we’ve got to get you trained up. 25th August is just over three weeks from now.”
Miles turned and looked inquisitively at Joe Pike.
“Joe. Me and thee will go and see Cap’n Carr and get us three released from all his practicing and drill. John here has to be brought up to fightin’ condition, not just for the honour of the Light Company, but also for the honour of the 5th Provisionals. That’s what we’ll say. Mary, can you drag up an old sheet from somewhere? He needs rags to bind his hands. There’s an Infirmary just down the road, perhaps they’ve got one that’s no good no more.”
He stood up and rubbed his hands at the prospect, grinning malevolently.
“Right.”
Davey looked up at him, grinning himself.
“It seems that you’m takin’ charge. How much do you know about it?”
“Some. My Father was a prizefighter. I got some memories.”
“Begat by a prizefighter! Now that explains a lot.”
Miles returned an evil look, as he, Pike and Mary walked off on their errands.
The two soldiers found their three Officers, sat, as usual, together in conversation. Miles spoke first.
“Excuse me, Sirs, but I don’t know if you’re aware, but there’s notices been put up concernin’ a prizefight, Sirs.”
Carr answered.
“Yes, we’ve seen them.”
“Well, John Davey was thinkin’ of takin’ up the challenge, Sir, and if you sees fit, Sir, then he’ll go on ahead.”
“It’s his decision, Miles. If he wants to fight, he needs no consent from me.”
“Ah, well now, Sir, beggin’ your pardon, but that’s not quite how it is. You see, a prizefight is a hard business, and he’ll need to be trained up, brought up to condition, like. So, the permission we needs from you, is to be excused drill and such, to get him good and ready, Sir.”
“We, Miles? How so, we?”
“Well, Sir. He’ll need trainers to hone him up, and we were thinkin’ that that would be me and Pike, here, Sir. You see, Sir, I knows a bit about the prizefightin’ game and what I know would bring him
up to, well, a higher standard, Sir. Then, less likely to disgrace the Regiment, Sir.”
“We aren’t a Regiment, Miles, but I take your point.”
Carr turned to Drake and Rushby, who had been listening intently.
“What do you two think?”
There was no answer, but first Drake nodded, then also Rushby, who finally spoke.
“We train them for battle, Sir, I think Davey should be allowed to train for this, and with his trainers. Besides, over the past weeks, they’ve never let us down. It’s arguable that they deserve this indulgence.”
Carr turned back to Miles and Pike.
“Very good. Permission granted. But how can you be sure that Colonel Reede-Smythe will choose you for the match?”
“Ah, yes Sir. Now, that’s the next thing, Sir. I was hopin’ that you could square things with the Colonel, Sir, ours, that is, and then you take Davey to this, I mean, Colonel Reede-Smythe and tell him that we take him up. And the sooner the better, really, Sir.”
Carr nodded and gave an understanding smile.
“Right, Miles. I’ll go and see Colonel Lacey. Bring Davey back down to here in 15 minutes.
Not half an hour later, Carr, Davey and Miles exited the camp and turned inland, which soon took them to the ground occupied by the 20th Light Dragoons. They had progressed almost in silence, nothing passed between them that could be described as social exchange, other than Davey answering two questions for Carr: “Can you put up at least a reasonable performance against this man? Are you sure that you want to go through with it?”
The presence of Carr got them straight past the camp guard and on to the quarters of Colonel Reede-Smythe, this being a large farmhouse; no lowly nor common tent for him. Carr to beckoned an Orderly and dismissed him to announce their presence to the Colonel and convey the reason why they had come. Carr turned to Miles and Davey.
Worth Their Colours (105th Foot. The Prince of Wales Own Wessex Regiment.) Page 49
