A Principle of Honour

Chapter 26

The bundle consisted of a handkerchief, wrapped around a few personal possessions. James took the bundle and opened it only to find the young man's watch and signet ring. 'How did he die?' he asked, looking at Stanford's belongings in disbelief.

'Bravely,' Major Curtis said sadly. 'We lost a lot of good men this afternoon.' Major Curtis offered James another drink, but he refused. It was going to be a long night, and Major Curtis would need all the comfort he could find. 'We were coming towards Genappe, behind Uxbridge and his cronies. The French, in column as always, started to march through the centre of town. Of course, they stopped when they saw us, but, as you know, the street is narrow and crooked, and it was not long until the whole street was completely jammed. Uxbridge, in a manoeuvre that I can barely understand myself, then ordered us to charge, which, of course, we duly did. But, how could we penetrate the French lancers? It was a damn mess. And then to crown it all, we had to put up with our own damn rockets firing at us. Why we have to put up with the damn things is a mystery.' He shook his head and then continued. 'We rallied several times, and it was in one of these attacks that young Stanford was killed. He was a brave lad.'

'This evening, I was going to write to the families of the dead, but everything is just so damn wet,' the Major said still sounding annoyed. 'And tomorrow is the main event,' he said, 'and we will be fighting in wet, sodden uniforms on a field that resembles a damn bog.'

'Can I take these?' James said, looking again at Stanford's personal effects. 'I can give them to his sister.'

'Yes,' Major Curtis replied, 'you are better off with them. I don't know if I will still be alive this time tomorrow. Tell her that he acquitted himself bravely and that he did his regiment proud.'

James nodded and stood up to leave. 'Yes, I will,' he said as he put his hand on Major Curtis's shoulder. 'Is there anything else you would like me to do?'

'If you don't mind,' Major Curtis said, returning to the inner pocket of his jacket, 'I have a letter for my wife. Just in case I...' Major Curtis stumbled on his words, 'just in case I don't make it. I have this awful feeling that my luck's just about to run out.'

James took the letter, and once he had put it in his leather satchel, he asked him, 'is there anyone you want me to give it to?'

'Yes,' Major Curtis replied, 'I shall write down the directions of my uncle. If anything should happen to me, he will know what to do.'

James nodded, and as he shook his hand, he said, 'goodbye and good luck.'

✽✽✽

The ride to Brussels that would have typically taken just over two hours took James over three. The torrential rain, which had been falling since early that afternoon, had made the road almost impassable. The road was also crammed with carts packed full of injured men and displaced locals, along with all their worldly possessions. Everyone was trying to make their way to the relative safety of Brussels. The horse that James had been riding all day, was beginning to tire, but James had to encourage him to keep going.

It was late in the evening when he finally arrived in the city. The sun had set several hours ago, but the streets were still busy, full of the injured that had made their way from the battlefield. After he had delivered the official messages, he went back to his rooms for a change of clothes. It felt good to be in a dry uniform once more. But now, he had to go to the Harrington's and break the news to Verity that her brother had died that day. He put on a dry overcoat and walked the short walk to their residence.

The butler, who had let him into the house, informed him that Miss Stanford was not at home. However, he did tell him that Lord Harrington would, no doubt, receive him. After a short wait, James was then shown into Harrington's study. There was a fire blazing in the grate, radiating welcome heat throughout the room. James was grateful for the warmth. It had been a long, cold, wet ride, and, even though he had changed his clothes, he was still chilled to the bone.