by Griff Hosker
The new sabre felt just that, new, as it dangled from my belt. It was a much better sabre than the French used but it seemed different and it would take some getting used to. I would try it out and see how it fared. I strode over to the squadron office where the sergeants were gathered. I saw a Quartermaster Sergeant there. “You must be Sinclair.”
He appeared to have been carved from a single piece of oak. He had the weathered look of someone who likes to be outdoors. He clapped his heels together and shouted, “Sar!” He stared straight ahead.
“I take it Mr Austen has had a word?”
He nodded, “Sar!”
I smiled, “Quartermaster Sergeant Sinclair, I am not on parade and we are in the office. You can loosen up a little.” It was marginal but the face vaguely cracked a little and the shoulders drooped ever so slightly. I suspected that, for Sinclair, this was relaxed. “How do you feel about that?”
“George Grant is a good friend of mine sir and it is a shame the way his troop has suffered when he has had such trouble. I am glad I have the chance to make them a little more like his troop before he returns.”
“We have a week I understand.”
“Yes sir. I’ll be pleased to see him again.”
“Good. I want to get the men disciplined first. None of this charging around nonsense. We both know that the Light Dragoons don’t charge that often.”
It looked as though I had surprised him. “You are the first officer who has said that sir.”
“You served in the colonies. Did you charge much?”
He finally grinned, “No sir. Vedettes and skirmishing.”
“Exactly. We will drill them in the changes of formation and pace today. I want them in perfect lines. This afternoon we will practise skirmishing; from horseback and on foot,” I paused, “with carbines.”
His eyes widened and, as he looked at my four sergeants they all nodded. “Well sir, this will be an interesting day. Shall I send for your horse?”
“No thank you. Trooper Sharp is delivering some letters for me so I shall get my own horse.” If I had surprised them before then I positively shocked them with the statement that I would not expect a trooper to fetch my mount.
The squadron were all waiting for me in straight lines, each man standing next to his horse. I had deliberately taken my time as I was sure that Sinclair would have had a word with them. Lieutenant Austen was mounted and facing them. The bugler stood behind him.
“Morning Austen.”
“Morning sir.” He gestured behind me to the bugler, “This is Trooper Jones.
I looked at the trooper who looked small enough to be a jockey. “Morning, Jones. Stick close to me today; we shall be trying out a great deal of manoeuvres and they all depend on you. I hope you know all the calls.”
He had a sing song Welsh voice, “Good sir, and yes I do. I get bored playing the same call. The charge is a little boring when it is the only call you make.”
Even the men knew that they had been doing the wrong drills. After half an hour I could see that Percy had been right, Sinclair was a good sergeant. By the end of the morning the squadron began to look as though they were cavalry. They rode straighter and actually appeared to enjoy what they were doing. As the men led the horses away to the stables I saw Quartermaster Sinclair and Sergeant White with Corporal Green. Sharp was returning my horse to the stables and so I wandered over. I heard the arguments as I approached them.
“I’m just saying sarge...”
“Quartermaster Sergeant if you please!”
I’m just saying Quartermaster Sergeant Sinclair that Mr DeVere won’t be happy when he comes back and finds us just drilling like this. Me and the lads …”
Sinclair thrust his face into Green’s. “You and the lads? That sounds like sedition and mutiny to me, Corporal Green.”
“No, of course not Quartermaster Sergeant, but they come to me as their corporal with their grievances.”
Sergeant White almost exploded, “You lying little toad! You are the one who stirs them up.”
They all stood to attention as I arrived. “I think I have heard enough.” I stood in front of the corporal and said, “Corporal Green, you have three days to improve. That means your work rate and your attitude. If you fail then you will be demoted.”
“You can’t do…”
“Shut up! How dare you speak back to an officer. Three days in charge of the stable detail.” Quartermaster Sergeant Sinclair looked shocked and said, “Sorry sir. We will make sure he improves, won’t we Bill?”
“We will that.”
As I strode away I reflected that all that the troop had needed was a good non commissioned officer to take charge and Sinclair had done that. This was not the same, truculent Sergeant White I had seen the first day. When I was passing the regimental office Sergeant Major Jones stuck his head out of the door and said, “Sorry to report sir but Captain and Lieutenant DeVere won’t be returning for a couple of days more.” He was grinning when he said, “I hope that doesn’t cause too much of a problem for you sir.”
“No, Sergeant Major, I think that I can manage.”
After two days there was a visible improvement in all save Green. He had become even worse and had had to be reprimanded for striking one of his men. The man said it was in fun and no charges were laid but I knew that it was inevitable that I would have to demote him.
I had got into the habit of strolling across to the stables each night to take a carrot or an apple to Badger. I had just left him when I sensed a movement in the stables. It was not a horse for it came from the loft above the stables. It had been a long time since I had been in danger and my reflexes were slow. The pitchfork which was thrown at me almost pierced my eye before I could deflect it with my arm. As it was it scored my face and I felt the blood spurt. Suddenly a horse reared up with a rider upon it. I rolled to my right and just missed having my head crushed beneath its hooves. By the time I got to my feet the horse and rider were gone.
I ran to the guard house. One of the guards was lying on the floor having been struck by the fleeing horse and rider. The other sentry looked shocked. When he saw my face he jumped back. There was more blood than he was used to. “Sir, you are injured.”
“I know. I will be fine. Go and fetch the surgeon. But before you go who was that?”
“Corporal Green.”
Chapter 3
The view of most of the sergeants agreed with the judgement of Sergeant Major Jones, “Good riddance. The regiment and the squadron will all be better off without him.”
The departure of the corrupt corporal seemed to lighten the mood and marked a change in the fortunes of the regiment. Quartermaster Grant arrived the next day. He was a grey haired soldier and he bore the scars which were testament to combat and service. We hit it off directly, mainly, I suspect because he met Sergeant Major Jones first.
“Pleased to meet you Sergeant and sorry for your loss.”
“She was old sir but she suffered at the end. If she had been a horse we would have put her out of her misery but we make humans hang on don’t we?” It did not require an answer and I gave a sympathetic nod. He nodded too and rubbed his hands together. “Right sir, I’ll get back into it straight away with your permission.” He turned to go and then said, “Thank you sir, for what you have done for the troop. Jimmy Sinclair is a good lad. It should have been done earlier and I knew that Jem Green was a bad ’un.” He hesitated, “I opposed his promotion. Still, now you are here, things might change for the better eh?”
He strode off whistling. He was quite a remarkable man. The next two days saw the squadron become the most efficient on the post. It was strange but I had still to meet the other officers. It seems they started work later than me and finished well before. The inns and taverns seemed to draw them like moths to a flame. It did not worry me as I just spent every waking minute, thinking of ways to improve my squadron.
The colonel and the major arrived together. I saw them glance in my direc
tion as I paraded my men. An hour later I was summoned to the office. I took with them the two documents: the letter from Colonel Sinclair and my orders.
Colonel Fenton was a very upright gentleman and he was not young. He looked as though he lived and breathed cavalry. He had a white moustache and the face of someone who has lived well. Major Hyde Smith, by contrast, was barely older than I was. He had sharp quick eyes with the features and the mind to accompany them. He was incredibly clever and reminded me of Bessières, Napoleon Bonaparte’s general.
I handed over my orders. The colonel gave them a cursory glance and then handed them to the major who scrutinised the document closely. “It seems you have made a real difference to D Squadron. Well done Captain Matthews. Have you served before?”
“I have never served in the British Army, sir.”
The major looked up and examined my face for a lie. “From what we have been told, you are a most accomplished soldier and horseman. The NCO’s are most impressed by you and young Austen positively hero worships you.” He stopped speaking and waited for an answer.
I remained silent and the colonel asked, “What made you choose to buy a commission in the 11th Captain Matthews?”
“That was the idea of Colonel Selkirk from Horse Guards. He said his brother had had a commission but had died.”
“Ah, young Selkirk, tragic accident that.”
There was something about the look they exchanged which made me want to learn more but this was not the time for that. I took out Colonel Selkirk’s letter and handed it to the colonel. “This is from Colonel Selkirk, sir. It may shed a little more light on my commission.”
This time he read the letter slowly and I saw his eyebrows raised. He handed the letter, silently, to Major Hyde-Smith. When he had read it I held out my hand for the letter. The major frowned. “I’m sorry sir but if that letter says what I think it says then it would compromise me if it fell into the wrong hands.”
Enlightenment dawned on the major and he smiled and said, “Quite.”
The colonel said, “This leaves us with a bit of a quandary then. You see the regiment has been ordered to the Cape of Good Hope in the next couple of weeks but the letter says that you are needed by Colonel Selkirk later this month.”
I knew not what to say but Major Hyde-Smith smiled as he said, “I think it will work out perfectly sir. We have to leave a squadron here as replacements. D Squadron is the smallest and young Austen can run things when Captain Matthews here is away doing his derring do. The Sergeant Major is more than capable of helping him and now that Captain Matthews has rid us of the rotten apple…”
“One of the rotten apples.” They both exchanged another secretive look.
“Quite, sir, one of the rotten apples, then we should have a good source for replacements. So, Matthews, if you would work closely with young Austen, then I think the colonel will be able to accommodate you.” He leaned over to me. “Will there be much of this sort of thing?”
“I don’t know sir. Colonel Selkirk needs my somewhat special abilities to do particular tasks which others cannot do.”
The colonel beamed, “By God sir but you have me intrigued. Have you done this sort of thing before?”
I nodded, “A few times sir but you will appreciate I cannot talk of them.”
The major had been watching me while I spoke. “The Sergeant Major tells me that you advocate the use of firearms. Can you tell me why?” He held up a hand in apology, “I am merely interested, I do not judge.” He glanced at the frowning face of the colonel as he did so.
“Well sir, the heavy cavalry are the ones the generals use for charges and they are equipped well for such tasks. They wear armour, or at least those on the continent do, and they, generally, ride bigger horses.”
“You have a big horse Captain Matthews.”
“I have indeed sir.” When I did not elucidate further he waved me to carry on. “Light cavalry are generally used for skirmishing and outpost duty. A firearm is of more use in those situations. You have a particularly fine carbine in the Paget model. It seems to me to be a reliable weapon.”
“And I understand you have four pistols!” The colonel sounded incredulous, making the major smile.
“Yes sir. I suppose if you are outnumbered it is an effective weapon and four of them give me a little more protection.”
The major asked, “Why not five?”
“Where would I keep the fifth, sir?”
They both laughed. “You are dismissed, Captain Matthews. Oh by the way, keep that bit about Africa to yourself eh? I expect you are used to keeping secrets.”
As I left the thought flickered through my mind, ‘If you only knew.’
When I returned to my quarters Sharp was laying out my evening dress. I gave him a questioning look, “Now that the colonel is back it is all very formal, sir. He is a bit of a stickler for such things and we all have to eat at the same time.” There was the hint of a criticism in his voice.
“So you are telling me to get from drills quicker?”
He smiled, “Unless you want the wrath of the colonel upon you, yes sir.”
“Thank you; I don’t know what I would do without you.” It suddenly struck me that he needed some more information than the others. “In two weeks time I shall be away for about a month or two and you will be here at the barracks.” I wondered why I had said it like that and I added, lamely, “Just thought you ought to know.”
He looked disappointed, “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I had done a good job.”
I was puzzled, “You have! You have performed in an exemplary fashion. Why do you say that?”
“I thought I would have been with you as your servant sir. That’s the way it works in this regiment.”
“Oh, then I apologise. I did not know.” I decided that he deserved a little more information. “The thing of it is I may be travelling abroad and it may be dangerous.”
He nodded, “Right sir.”
“And I would not be in uniform. I could not risk you coming to harm.”
He shrugged, “I have no family sir. This regiment is my family and I would do anything for this country. My father drilled in to me that we were British and should be proud of that. He could never understand the traitors who rebelled against us in the colonies. I hope you reconsider, sir.”
“I will think about it.”
As I dressed for dinner I wondered if I could embroil the young man in Selkirk’s machinations. I remembered the times when one of my comrades had come to my aid when serving Napoleon and wondered if Trooper Sharp might fulfil the same function. I was due in London the following week and I would ask Colonel Sinclair for his opinion.
I made sure I was in the mess hall promptly and saw that Sharp had been correct. Everyone was dressed in his best. The other officers had also returned and the only ones who were missing were the DeVere brothers. It was a very formal affair and I saw that not only were there more orderlies but they too were well turned out. We had the regimental silver out and the best wines. After Grace and the loyal toast, we ate.
Captain Stafford sat on one side of me and Percy on the other. We found that we all got on very well. To be fair to the other officers I had seen little of them but it felt comfortable to sit and chat with these two.
After the wine was poured Captain Stafford said, “You will find that the wine will be added to you mess bill.”
He looked at me as though I might object, “That is not a problem Captain Stafford.” I smiled, “I have an income.”
“Call me William, and that is a fortunate thing.”
“I wish I had one. The only way I can get promotion is on the battlefield and that seems unlikely now.”
I laughed, “Don’t worry Percy; I am sure Bonaparte will try something again soon.”
The lieutenant brightened at that, “Do you really think so. I thought after we drubbed him in Egypt he would have stayed in France.”
“I am not a gambling man but I will bet each of you te
n guineas that we will be at war within a couple of years at the most.” I tapped my nose, “Bonaparte is a very ambitious man.”
David sipped his wine and pulled a face, “About time we had some decent wine in the mess.” He put the glass down with a distasteful look on his face, “You seem to know the man well.”
“No, but I have been around, and I know the type.”
Percy said innocently, “Yes I noticed your tanned face. I just thought you liked the outdoors.”
“Well I do but I have travelled abroad. Italy, Austria, that sort of thing.” I was deliberately vague. They couldn’t know of my true background.
Just then there was a commotion outside and two officers burst through the doors, dishevelled and a little drunk. I whispered to David, “I take it they are the DeVere brothers.”
“Oh yes. And making their usual entrance. The old man will not like this.”
Before I could reply the major, as chairman of the mess stood and said quietly. “Gentlemen your dress and manner are both unacceptable. Go and change and return to the mess when you are dressed appropriately.”
Captain DeVere, I recognised his rank, waved an airy hand, “Don’t bother old chap. We’ll get something from the inn.”
At that the colonel stood and actually raised his voice, “Captain DeVere, you will not. I order you to dress and return here. You have disobeyed enough orders of late.”
The two of them tried to stand to attention and then they left. “Why does the colonel tolerate them? The elder gave his duty to a junior lieutenant the other day. Isn’t that a court-martial offence?”
“It can be but the DeVere’s father used to serve in the regiment and is a close friend of the colonel. He also has an uncle who has a great deal of influence at Horse Guards.”
I saw it all now and I remembered similar examples in the French Army. It explained how they got away with so much.
We were on to the main course when they returned. It was a beef stew with a rich sauce. Some of the food I had eaten in the mess was poor but this was as good as Mrs Popwell’s beef and oyster pie. They both bowed to the chairman of the mess and then sought a seat. To their obvious chagrin the only seats available were opposite David and me. We both nodded as they sat down.
