‘Yes, that was William’s sister. And his brother Algernon’s, of course,’ said Hazel.

‘Well, this was Algernon Gale’s. Officers in the Royal Welsh wore peaked forage caps, but many families sent out privately purchased fur caps, against the cold. This must have been one of them.’

He took it out and handed it to Hazel. It felt very light in her hand. She had expected it to be heavier, to weigh as much as the animal whose frame it had once covered. She didn’t know what to say about it. It was a mothy old thing. If she’d found it in a cupboard at home she’d probably have thrown it out. After what seemed an appropriately respectful amount of time, she put it back into the box.

‘This one is papers and personal effects, apparently,’ said the Colonel. From the second box the curator brought out two small leather-bound books, a handful of letters and a little leather box.

‘Please,’ said the Colonel.

Hazel stepped forward and opened the books. One was a book of Common Prayer, with an inscription: ‘To Algie on the Occasion of his Confirmation, with love from his devoted Mama, May 1846’.

‘A great many soldiers took their bibles or prayer books with them. As a sort of talisman. There are stories of men surviving grapeshot because they had one of these books in a pocket and it took the peppering for them,’ said the Colonel.

‘Pity that didn’t work in this case,’ said Dawn, who had little truck with religion.

Then Hazel opened the smallest box. Inside was a gold brooch set with black enamel, a forget-me-not at its centre. The outer edges were of gold filigree, studded with minute blue stones which matched the petals of the little flower. She picked it up and turned it over. When she saw what was there, she could not stop herself from exclaiming.

‘Oh, Dawn, would you look at this! His hair must’ve been exactly the same colour as Stephen’s.’

She forgot, in that instant, that her sister-in-law had never met Stephen. But she had seen his pictures, she knew he’d had auburn hair.

‘Ah, yes, a mourning brooch. Mourning jewellery became very popular, in Victorian times, especially after the death of Prince Albert. Queen Victoria wore several pieces after she was widowed. People would mount a lock of hair in a brooch or a locket. Sometimes a ring. This is earlier, of course,’ said the curator.

‘But how has it kept its colour?’ asked Dawn, peering down at the object in Hazel’s hand.

‘The hair was always on the reverse of the decorated face of the piece, so the wearer would have it close to their heart, I believe. It wouldn’t have been exposed to light, even when it was being worn.’