“She gave me this to give to you. It was done in secret, apart from me. She told me that you are to go somewhere that is absolutely quiet to read it.”
Carr took the letter and ran his fingers over the smooth side that bore no seal. Then he slid it inside his jacket, just before the arrival of Drake, he carrying a plate from which much was in jeopardy of falling off. Drake had not seen Cecily through the crowd but his face showed both joy and surprise as he saw at close range his dearest Cecily. The plate would have fallen had Carr not had the presence of mind to anticipate the danger and he perceptively took it from Carr just before both Drake’s hands came forward to grasp those of his beloved. Once again it was Cecily who compensated for a soldier’s loss of words.
“Nat, what is that uniform? That dire green! Who concocted that?”
Drake adopted a tone of mock indignation.
“Now then, dearest. Regimental honour is at stake. This is the uniform of the 105th Foot. The Prince of Wales Wessex Regiment. Who dreamed up the colour scheme, I’ve no idea, but it is to be neither mocked nor denigrated.”
She laughed.
“Right, in that case it is to be lauded and applauded, but, if we ever walk out together then you must give me warning that you are going to wear it. It will inform my own colour scheme in a very major way.”
Now they all laughed and Drake returned his attention to his plate, at the same time feeding Cecily the choicest pieces. Carr began to feel out of place and intrusive, when he felt something hit his shoulder. It was more than a mere tap for attention, more like a blow. He turned and found himself facing Lord Frederick Templemere, his cane raised and he being accompanied in echelon and either side by Lord Charles Hopgood and Lord Anthony Mahon. All three were dressed in the height of fashion, from the finest cloth; mock military uniforms, with wide striped collars, these now being “a la mode” this season. Carr was taken aback and in his moment of surprise Templemere spoke first.
“Ah, it is you Carr. Found you at last. Now, I’ll think you’ll agree that you and I have some unfinished business.”
Carr stood, still in shock, but he noticed the scarring on Templemere’s right cheek. It idly crossed his mind that the surgery to reconstruct the shattered bone must have been agony. With that thought he recovered.
“Unfinished business, Templemere? Not as I recall. Our business came to a conclusion in that water meadow. Was there something else?”
Both Drake and Cecily had noticed the new arrivals and detected the hostile tone. Drake let his plate fall to the grass and advanced to stand beside Carr. His drew on his aristocratic breeding to lend him the required authority.
“Captain Carr. Could you introduce me to these gentlemen?”
“Yes. Lieutenant The Honourable Nathaniel Drake, this is Lord Frederick Templemere. I’m afraid the names of the other two gentlemen have eluded my memory.”
Both gave their names.
“Your servant, Sirs. Now, is there an issue here?”
Templemere replied.
“None that concerns you, Captain Drake. My quarrel lies with Captain Carr here.”
He shifted his gaze to look disdainfully at Carr. He pulled off one of his white kid gloves.
“Carr. You prevented me from continuing our meeting by striking a foul blow. Our affairs are unresolved. I challenge you to continue the duel and to meet me to try for a fair conclusion.”
With that he struck Carr across the face with the glove and threw it at his feet.
Carr made no move, but quietly replied.
“I resigned once from the army to meet you, Templemere, I’ll not do it again. You ended up unconscious at my feet. I could have killed you but I let you live. The affair’s done.”
Templemere replied in a voice dripping with contempt.
“Then I call you a coward. Here and now, before these witnesses, here assembled.”
Drake took a step forward. His voice grew louder.
“The Hell with you, Templemere. You know full well that any Officer who fights in a duel will end up Court Martialled and cashiered. An Officer must refuse, he has no choice.”
Templemere remained studying Carr.
“Your affairs are your own, Carr. I take it that you refuse to meet me, so again I call you a coward. I strip you of your honour.”
It was Drake who replied.
“Your own honour is sullied, Templemere, to call out a man whom you know is forbidden to take you up. Captain Carr here has met you once. You may have disliked the outcome, but that’s your affair. You called him out and he met you. It’s done. You should leave.”
“I’ll not. I’ll not until I hear Captain Carr say that he refuses to meet me. Then once more I can call him a coward. Then I will leave.”
The raised voices and the sudden movement had silenced the crowd for some yards around them. The circle included Carravoy. He had heard and, seeing Templemere there, easily deduced the issue. He walked over and stood beside Carr.
“Lord Fred. It is good to see you again, but I would wish for better circumstances. Lieutenant Drake there is perfectly correct. Captain Carr is forbidden, by Military Orders, from meeting you in a duel. However, on top of that, his personal courage and bravery are beyond question. I myself have both witnessed and benefited from his conduct under fire. In the face of the enemy. I, too, think you should drop the matter and go.”
“I’ll not. Not until I hear Carr say what I require him to say.”
“How now, Templemere. Still causing bother, are we?”
Templemere’s face froze. He had recognised the voice, even though it was laced with deep sarcasm, and in turning he recognised the unmistakeable figure. The Prince of Wales, having moved on to interrogate Captain Heaviside about the defence of Maida town, had heard the commotion and took it upon himself to get involved. Templemere bowed, very low.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes, yes, Templemere, quite so, but these Officers, in fact my Officers, are quite right. A Commissioned Officer is forbidden to duel, and that’s the fact of it. You sully yourself by pushing this further. All I can say, is, that if you count yourself as a weapons man, then you should join the army, there’s plenty of fighting coming up, I can tell you, enough for even you. But; as long as you choose to stay out of it, I fail to see how you can call anyone a coward, especially someone with a record of actually standing up against the Johnnies. Up close, as it were, toe to toe. So, if you don’t want to do that, but still want to go around getting involved in duels, well, then again, all I can say is, that that does make you a bit of an insect, you know, bit of a arse, as it were. Were I you, I would take myself off, back to my sheep or whatever. More immediately, and to the point, uninvited, you’re ruining my party. And stood on my Parade Ground.”
He paused.
“I’m surprised you’re still here!”
Templemere visibly reeled at the deep derision, delivered with perfect cadence, the Prince’s voice rising and falling to produce just the required level of sarcasm, but Templemere’s face showed intently all the shock of such a tirade coming from the mouth of the Prince of Wales himself. He knew, that from that moment, he was finished in society. Hopgood and Mahon did too and sidled off, leaving Templemere alone. He could do nothing but bow, words wouldn’t come. He picked up his own glove from besides his feet and hurried away, through and out of the condemning crowd, spurred on his way by looks of either hatred or those that displayed delight at his very public and thorough discomfiture.
Drake, Carr, and Carravoy came to attention before their Colonel in Chief, but he had lost all formality and spoke conversationally.
“Yes, gentlemen, at ease, but I’m taking my leave. Done enough, and learned enough, certainly for one day. Thresher!”
He turned to the ever present attending Major.
“Go before and organise the carriage. I believe the ladies are already within.”
He turned back to the three. Each was astonished as he shook their hands.”
“Remember, this is for Old England. Old England.”
With that he nodded, then turned away as each saluted his back and Thresher escorted him through the crowd and away. Carr now turned to Carravoy.
“I have to thank you for that, Charles, for your support I mean.”
Carravoy’s face remained stern as he looked at Carr. A silence grew before he replied.
“I don’t like you Carr. I think you are wholly the wrong kind to be an Officer, a bad influence and a bad example. However, I’ll not stand idle whilst you are called a coward. I know, that to you, such a word does not apply.”
The abrupt end gave warning of the abrupt taking of his leave. Carravoy turned and was soon lost in the crowd.
oOo
They were paraded in Winchester High Street, drawn up, sixteen ranks deep, in front of the Town Hall. The June heat was making itself felt, but what was far more irksome was the seemingly interminable speech being made to them by the Lord Mayor, delivered through one of the windows of the dour, solid, granite building that served as the centre of administration for this worthy city. “No way of avoiding it,” had been Lacey’s first words upon receiving the letter inviting them to parade in the High Street, it being delivered by hand, to their camp on the previous day. The Regimental Standards, uncased for such an occasion, stirred fitfully in the occasional breeze, but what pride there was dwelt more within those attached to the Regiment who watched, among these being Bridie Deakin and Molly Davey, now friends by their common circumstances, but their relationship was warm enough. Mutual support permanently made up their Orders of the Day and so their friendship had grown. Bridie took care of baby John whilst Molly pointed out all the sights to ‘Tilly.
At last the final words echoed back from the bright and colourful shops and houses behind them, that made such a contrast to the dour Town Hall before, and the Mayor called for three cheers for The King. Lacey turned to Gibney, who took over.
“Parade. Remove shakoes.”
“Three cheers for The King.”
The huzzas rang out mechanically around the confined space.
“Replace shakoes.”
The Colours were furled and cased and the parade marched off, but few failed to notice the carts up a side road that would follow them out into the city fields. The Mayor had laid on, at Council expense, a good supply of beef, bread, and beer. Once beyond the houses the column halted and the lines dissolved to reform again at the supply carts and for the men to draw their share. The sunny, lush, and airy fields provided a welcome contrast to the scene of the Mayor’s speech; the open spaces with many varieties; emerging blossom in the many orchards, and the bright green of new growth in the intervening cornfields. Lacey joined O’Hare and Simmonds under a convenient tree and sat himself in one of the collapsible chairs. Each already knew their orders. Lacey was clearing up the details.
“Padraigh. Have you sent word to Taunton? They can expect us on Thursday?”
“Yes, Sir. I sent a rider yesterday, immediately after Church Parade.”
He paused. A ball of rags had come tumbling between them, a misthrow from one of the children attached to the Deakin, Davey, Hill family ensemble, who were enjoying their picnic some yards away. It was ‘Tilly who came to fetch and it was O’Hare that rolled it back to her. All three Officers allowed themselves to smile and grin.
“A month isn’t long, Sir, before we re-embark.”
“No, but it may be a mite longer. We’ll be brought up to strength, we’ll drill ourselves senseless, then march off. Weymouth again, I would assume.”
“Do you know anything about Arthur Wellesley, Sir.?"
“Not a lot. He made his name in India, nicknamed the “Sepoy General”, and he achieved a couple of stunning victories, but against the natives. There was a siege, too, so I’ve heard. He was in that North German mess around the Elbe in the year five, since then he’s been dabbling in politics. Now he’s got the Portugal Expedition, and that includes us.”
Simmonds spoke next. He sounded anxious and concerned; there would be a new Commander.
“How do you think it will go, Sir?”
“Impossible to tell. I know that the French have wiped the floor with both the Spanish and the Portuguese armies, but their people are putting up a fight, just like the Masse’. All I can say, is that we met their best at Maida. And on equal terms, line against line. And they were veterans whilst we weren’t. What they will put against us down in the Peninsula, won’t be any better.”
He sat forward and slapped his hands on his knees.
“Now, I think I’ll take a walk amongst the men. Give them an hour, Padraigh, then re-form.”
With that he rose and marched off, hands clasped behind his back, heading straight for the gambolling children. O’Hare did not follow his progress, for his attention was immediately taken by Captain Carr who had suddenly emerged from the throng and approached with an air that demanded attention. He addressed himself to Major O’Hare.
“Excuse me, Sir, but I was wondering if I might borrow a horse. There is an acquaintance of mine who lives quite near, and I would very much like to visit.”
O’Hare went into thought, but it was Simmonds who answered.
“I’ve a spare. Tell my groom you can have Jerome. He’s good for a long journey.”
O’Hare now spoke.
“Be mindful, Captain, that we need you in barracks come Thursday.”
“Yes Sir. Be assured, I’ll be there.”
The horse was identified, saddled and bridled and, after packing a few items for himself, Carr led it back to where his company was enjoying the Mayor’s generosity. He spoke to Drake and Rushby, both sat entertaining Cecily.
“I’m taking my leave for a couple of days. I’ll see you Thursday, back in Taunton.”
With that he mounted the horse, but Drake couldn’t fail to notice that Carr was wearing his sword and there was a Curaissier pistol in the saddle holster.
“Henry, what are you about? What are your plans?”
Carr pulled the horse’s head away.
“See you Thursday.”
oOo
The estate was close and Carr arrived in the late afternoon. It was immediately apparent that it was extensive and fashioned from great wealth. He spent some time in a convenient copse crowning a conveniently overlooking hill. From here, through his Dolland, he examined the buildings and watched the comings and goings of the staff and servants and it was not long before he had a fairly certain idea of the purpose of each of the buildings around the estate. There was little happening apart from the common day to day. There were no visitors and no one left. The afternoon wore on and Carr sustained himself on bread, cheese, apples and water. A road skirted the sidewall of the gardens that decorated the rear of the main house and, as the day turned to evening, Carr walked his horse along it. Jerome gave him enough height to see what he wanted over the neat brickwork, then he let himself into the first field he came to, hobbled Jerome, and left him to contentedly graze. Carr then walked back to a side gate of the garden, which he found unlocked. He entered and walked to the centre of the immaculate lawn that lay just below a plain terrace that came out from a series of glazed doors. He stood on the lawn and waited, which gave Carr ample time to examine his surroundings. The whole was bathed in the clear yellow light of an immaculate 1st June evening. The lawn was pristine, bordered by scarlet flowering shrubs and the manicured grass swept up to halt cleanly at the quarrystone pavings of the terrace, themselves terminating at the tall, authoritative, glazed doors. Above all rose the red brick and tall chimneys of an early Georgian stately home, secure in its status and grandeur.
In almost no time a servant crossed the terrace and immediately noticed the tall Officer, statuesque upon the lawn. Thoroughly disconcerted and confused he hurried through one of the glazed doors. Soon a figure appeared behind the glass and the door opened to reveal Lord Frederick Templemere. The look of hatred masked any degree of surprise. He rapidly walked off the
terrace and came up to Carr to stop within feet of him.
“Carr, damn you. Leave; before I set the dogs on you.”
Carr ignored the instruction.
“My Lord Fred. I trust my timing is up to the mark. You’ve not yet had your dinner? Nothing intoxicating imbibed? Fresh as a daisy?”
Templemere said nothing, content with his look of loathing, but his confusion grew.
“My Lord, I note that somewhere over yonder, I think there,” Carr waved his hand to a large building behind and to the right, “you have a somewhat well appointed indoor ride. You were correct, back there on Horse Guards; now you’ve chosen to make it so, we do have unfinished business. I suggest that we go in there, and conclude the matter.”
Templemere’s mouth stretched into a smile that did nothing to dilute his look of vehement dislike.
“You mean, Carr, that you and I go in there and fight a duel?”
“Almost correct, my Lord, I mean that you and I go in there and have a fight. Omit the duel. No rules, no Seconds, simply you and I and two swords. We go in there and we fight it out. In the way that soldiers such as myself have to fight it out, against an enemy. That is, fighting to stay alive. That’s my offer. If you have the stomach for such, I’ll wait here and allow you to prepare yourself. If you decline, I’ll leave the way I came, but if that, on your honour, our matter now counts as settled.”
Templemere’s expression changed to indecision. What had immediately come to mind was a formal duel, but Carr was offering something from a battlefield. He studied Carr further but discerned nothing. Carr stood relaxed and expressionless, awaiting an answer. Templemere felt doubt rising within him, a combat outside the rules of duelling, but his hatred of Carr rose to supremacy. Then something flickered in Templemere’s eyes.
“Very well, Carr, as you suggest. Alone and man to man. You’ll wait whilst I prepare myself?”
Carr nodded.
“I’ll take myself into The Ride, if that’s acceptable?
He spoke the words to Templemere’s back. There was no reply, so he began to make his own arrangements, but he merely needed to remove his jacket and shako, which he transferred to his left arm. With Templemere out of sight through the windows, Carr walked off the lawn in the direction of The Ride, but, when out of sight in some bushes, he doubled over to the right, through the bushes to stand on the path of his entrance but well hidden. Minutes later, Templemere burst out of the doors, a pistol in each hand, accompanied by three retainers each with their own pistol. Carr could clearly hear the shouted instructions.
Worth Their Colours (105th Foot. The Prince of Wales Own Wessex Regiment.) Page 61
