The Tigress of Mysore

by Allan Mallinson

  ‘Nujeebs?’

  ‘They are a kind of mounted militia. They’ve come on admirably this past year.’

  Somervile looked at his old friend.

  Hervey frowned. ‘It is not a job for a soldier, Sir Eyre.’

  ‘I understand perfectly; but only a soldier can do it.’

  Hervey inclined his head, his least signal of acceptance.

  Nor could he deny that it would be good sport. And the regiment was in need of some diversion other than practice for war.

  ‘What do you propose for the nabobs by whose let the gangs do their work, Major?’ he asked drily.

  ‘Within the Company’s own territory or that of its vassals, the governor-general has given me leave to do as seems fit. Where the thuggee is supported from any princely state, the matter is to be decided by Fort William.’

  ‘As is only proper,’ said Somervile, in a slight agitation. ‘Colonel Hervey, this is something for consideration.’

  Hervey nodded again.

  Somervile rose. ‘I believe I will now withdraw to allow the politicals – and Captain Fairbrother – to discuss what further detail there may be with Major Sleeman. Colonel Hervey, let you and I confer privately.’

  Once in his ‘chambers’, Somervile became grave. ‘What do you make of Sleeman?’

  Hervey frowned. ‘How may I judge? He’s been here a good many years – since I was a cornet in Spain no less. I certainly can’t judge his method, but evidently he’s hanged or put away a good many of these devils, so it must have merit … And, if you were to press me, I’d say he were a man to have by one in a tiger hunt.’

  Somervile smiled just perceptibly. ‘I had judged so too, though, frankly, my instructions from Bentinck give me no choice in the matter. Besides, the reports from the Northern Circars have become disturbing. In September alone several lakh of rupees were spirited away in Guntoor, my old district, you’ll recall – and the carriers too, doubtless strangled. If the sahoukars can’t shift around coin, then the whole system of land rent becomes impossible, and with it the tax. The collector at Guntoor says there are arrears now of six months.’

  ‘Then something must indeed be done, but I remain of the opinion that it’s not a job for soldiers. Our best course would be to raise more police – these nujeebs – and with that we may certainly help.’

  ‘I’ve no objection to such a scheme. Nujeebs under proper regulation should suffice, once things have been quietened. I’ve no wish to engage regular troops on such a business, though until more nujeebs are raised I fear that someone in the King’s coat must make safe the roads – the dak roads most certainly.’

  Hervey nodded. ‘If you command it, I shall arrange it.’

  Somervile’s brow furrowed again. ‘Madeira?’

  ‘Is it a one- or a two-bottle question you’re about to pose?’

  ‘I can’t say yet.’ He poured liberal measures of his best Blandy’s. ‘Have you heard of the principle – the doctrine – of lapse?’

  Hervey shook his head. ‘The fall of man from innocence? The sin of Eve?’

  Somervile indulged him with a smile. ‘The court of directors have lately decided that the consent of the government of India to adoptions in the case of rulers of princely states dying without male issue is to be treated as an indulgence, and the exception, not the rule, and is not to be granted but as a special mark of favour and approbation.’

  Hervey raised an eyebrow. ‘The heirless state thus lapsing to the Company?’

  ‘Just so. But further, that if a state be not governed with real authority, and for the good of the governed, it too may be deemed to have lapsed.’

  Hervey was puzzled. ‘That, surely, was the principle on which the Rajah of Coorg was deposed, was it not? How’s this doctrine novel therefore?’

  ‘In part it was the principle, but as you’ll recall, the intervention was at the invitation of one who had the greater claim. This new doctrine puts the interest of the governed above that of the prince, and the judgement in the matter is that of the governor-general.’

  ‘It seems a rather fine distinction to make, in light of practice to date.’

  ‘Perhaps, but an important one nevertheless.’

  Hervey was unconvinced. But then, he was not a political.

  Somervile frowned again. ‘Chintal …’

  ‘Ye-es?’

  ‘Bentinck deems that it is in lapse.’

  Hervey sat upright. ‘I see. And am I to suppose that somehow we are to deliver it from evil – secure its redemption?’

  Somervile nodded slowly, as if gathering his thoughts. ‘There are other concerns. Preposterous as it may seem, the Ranee has designs on Mysore. Apparently some panjandrum in Chintal’s persuaded her that she has a claim on Tipoo Sultan’s inheritance – I’m not aware how, precisely; doubtless some obscure bloodline – and he’s begun a scheme of agitation, possibly with the help of this web of thuggee. Bentinck says it’s not unheard of for minor rulers – like Chintal – to garb themselves in the glories of greater men, but that usually it’s little more than an irritation. But Mysore’s a tricky place yet, and on that he’s right.’

  Hervey frowned. ‘This isn’t the Ranee I quite recollect, for all her faults.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but with evil counsellors anything’s possible. Bentinck says she’s been deluded into believing she’s heir to Tipoo’s tiger mantle.’

  Hervey smiled doubtfully. ‘The Tigress of Mysore?’

  Somervile tilted his head. ‘You may well be right, but Bentinck intends proclaiming the lapse, and supposes the Ranee will resist, and therefore will direct the Army of Madras to expedite the proclamation.’

  ‘“Expedite the proclamation”?’

  ‘His very words. Moreover, because of Coorg he asks that, unless I have compelling objection, you personally take command of the field force.’

  ‘And you have no compelling objection?’

  ‘I have none. But more to the point, do you?’

  Hervey looked at him disbelievingly. ‘For I am a man under authority, having soldiers under me: and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh.’

  Somervile finished his glass and poured another. ‘Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in … India.’

  Hervey bowed.

  ‘But as a man of rank – with a brevet indeed, as well as acting in command here – you are not obliged by blind obedience. You have some discretion in these matters.’

  Hervey was now intrigued. ‘What cause for discretion, as you put it, might there be? If the governor-general in his wisdom deems Chintal to be a threat to the King’s Peace, then who am I to gainsay it?’

  Somervile nodded.

  Hervey smiled. ‘And I could hardly admit that there’s anyone more capable than I of commanding the field force.’

  Somervile looked grave once more. ‘I had in mind distaff matters.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Forgive me, Hervey, but I ought perhaps to have congratulated you on the news.’

  Hervey smiled again, conceding. ‘And I perhaps should have thought to tell you, except that these things are always more seemly done by the ladies, are they not?’

  ‘Hah! Quite so; Emma told me only last evening, though she’d known for a week. Yes, they’re judicious in choosing their time.’

  Hervey didn’t say that Kezia too had told him only the day before. ‘But it can make no difference.’

  ‘Ordinarily, no, but in light of Kezia’s former … distraction, how wise was it, I wondered, to follow the precept of “duty” so narrowly?’

  Hervey raised both eyebrows. ‘Dorothea Worsley’s time is near. Can you suppose Worsley would take leave?’

  Somervile bowed, content. ‘Then we’d better begin on a plan without delay. I’ll call a council tomorrow. Another glass of Madeira?’

  Hervey nodded.

  And then he thought it the moment to press his advantage. ‘Might I ask, by the bye,
if you are near to a decision yet on my dragoon?’

  ‘Hah!’ The governor banged the table so hard his glass fell over. ‘What a business indeed! I never heard its like. The fellow binds himself to a tree when there’s tiger about? Splendid! Splendid!’

  ‘The honour is all Garratt’s, the humiliation all mine. I wasn’t aware of the subterfuge until it was abroad that Askew had done so, by which time …’

  ‘Come, come! I’m excessively obliged to you for your candour in the report. This corporal of yours, he ties the dragoon to the tree for the man’s own good, without – he admits – his express consent, and out of duty also lest the man’s courage fail him and he attempts to make his escape? A really very remarkable initiative, Hervey. What resourceful NCOs you have!’

  ‘Unfortunately, perhaps, as I explained, Garratt detected the dodge. He got to the tree before the corporal could untie him, but it wasn’t until later that Armstrong had the truth from him.’

  ‘Yet the dragoon was a volunteer; that is to his credit. No one need know any other.’

  ‘But as I explained, there’s no knowing if Askew intended to use the opportunity to escape. Except that he’s of previously good character.’

  ‘God preserve us from corporals with good ideas?’

  Hervey frowned again. ‘I can’t regret having men who are willing to think and act – even if at times they do so to unfortunate effect. Some need driving, most need encouraging, few need restraining.’

  Somervile smiled. ‘I believe I’ve heard you say so before, but it’s no less compelling for repetition.’ He refilled his glass and took an ostentatiously modest sip. ‘You know the most grieving clause in the new India Act? That neither Bombay nor I can make laws without the consent of Calcutta. It’s of no moment to the case of your dragoon – the death penalty’s an altogether different matter – but I would have abolished flogging as soon as Bentinck abolished it in the native army. Indeed, I would have done so before, had I had the unequivocal support of the commander-in-chief.’

  Hervey looked at him sombrely. ‘I’ve never heard you speak thus … Oh, forgive me; I don’t mean to suggest you never thought thus.’

  Somervile put down his glass. ‘Some years ago, Hervey, before you first came to India, when I was in Guntoor, I had occasion to speak on the subject with a man raised from the ranks into a regiment of cavalry – King’s cavalry – and which I never forgot. He told me that from his observation of its effect on others, he could most solemnly affirm that flogging was, and always will be, the best, the quickest, and most certain method yet devised to eradicate from the bosom of a British soldier his most loyal and laudable feelings.’

  Hervey was about to speak, but Somervile’s expression became even more earnest.

  ‘He told me that during the whole of his service, which included a period of upwards of thirty years, he never knew but one solitary instance in which a man recovered his self-respect and general reputation after having been tortured and degraded by the punishment of flogging – and this isolated case was of a private soldier, who had, on previous occasions, received altogether some thousands of lashes. Since his first flogging his name had been constantly in the guard reports, and he’d scarcely ever done a day’s duty. His offence on the most recent occasion was being drunk on guard, and his sentence was three hundred lashes. His regiment was paraded for the purpose of seeing punishment inflicted and the court-martial findings were read, but even before it was finished, said the officer, the man began to undress with apparent – indeed sullen – apathy. He knew the heinousness of his offence and was well aware of its certain consequences. When he was stripped and tied, however, his naked back presented so frightful a spectacle that his commanding officer, kind-hearted as evidently he was, turned his head from the sight and stood absorbed in thought, as though reluctant to look on it again. When the adjutant informed him that all was ready, the colonel seemed to start, and then walked slowly up to the prisoner and stared even more closely at his lacerated back – on which there were, apparently, the most visible large lumps of thick and callous flesh, and weals distressing to behold. The colonel contemplated the wounds for some moments, unknown to the delinquent, and, when at length the man turned round (more from surprise that the flogging didn’t commence than from any other motive), his colonel addressed him along these lines: “Clarke,” or whatever was his name, “you are now tied up to receive the just reward of your total disregard and defiance of all order and discipline. Your back presents an awful spectacle to your surrounding comrades, and, for my own part, I would willingly withdraw it from their sight, but I fear that your heart is as hard as your back, and that I have no alternative but to see that justice administered which the service requires. What possible benefit can you expect to derive from this continual disobedience of orders, and disregard of the regulations of the service?”’

  Hervey frowned. He’d seen a similar parade at the Canterbury depot before first going to Spain.

  ‘And do you know what happened next? The poor fellow seemed touched, and wept bitterly. For a time he could say nothing; but then, “I wish to God I was dead and out of your way, sir; I am an hopeless fellow, and I pray this flogging may be my last, and put me beyond the reach of that cursed and vile liquor which has been my ruin.” Well, the colonel and the whole regiment were now much affected, and many of the soldiers turned their heads. Seeing this, the colonel called the attention of the offender to the commiseration of his comrades, and the man did indeed seem much distressed. The colonel then said that he couldn’t bear to see his brother soldiers so much affected without removing the cause, and that his sentence, therefore, for their sakes, he’d remit, and, instead of the chastisement awarded him, would the man pledge, in the presence of his comrades, that he’d behave well in future? If so he would not only pardon him, but promise, when his conduct merited it, to promote him to the rank of corporal.’

  Somervile leaned back in his chair. ‘A long story, but an instructive one. What next do you suppose happened?’

  ‘I imagine the man swore on his sainted mother’s grave that he’d mend his ways, and in six months was again arraigned for drunkenness.’

  Somervile looked pained. He perfectly understood that his friend wasn’t a Sunday-school teacher, but he’d expected something a little nobler.

  ‘The astonished man called on his comrades to bear witness to his words, and in a most solemn manner protested his firm resolution to amend. A short time after, he was indeed promoted, and proved one of the best non-commissioned officers in the service.’

  Hervey sighed. ‘The problem is that the case might also be said to prove the efficacy of flogging. Do so remorselessly enough and eventually the man will be made. While those that aren’t made don’t have the character in the first place.’

  Somervile was no Sunday-schooler either, as Hervey well knew. He shook his head ruefully. ‘Quite. I did say that my informant said it was but one solitary instance.’

  Hervey nodded equally ruefully. ‘Where, therefore, does this leave my dragoon?’

  Somervile chortled. ‘Damn the business. I signed his commutation last night.’

  * * *

  ‘Adjitan-sahib, colonel-sahib he come now!’ Sammy had already decanted coffee into the silver pot. From his lookout on the verandah he could see for half a mile, and no scout had sharper eyes.

  St Alban was mildly surprised; he’d supposed that Hervey would spend the rest of the day at the Fort. ‘Well, Mr Kynaston, you had better sit yourself in the ante-room, and I’ll return to matters later.’

  ‘Sir.’

  St Alban reckoned he just had time to change his shirt. ‘Qu’hai!’

  His bearer came in an instant. ‘Saaph shart, Amit, shukria – jaldi.’

  ‘’Es, sahib – turant!’

  And immediately it was brought. Amit helped him out of his morning shirt and into the clean linen.

  St Alban thanked him. He’d persevere with this strange language of the Hindoos. He’
d not be beaten by it, even if he did intend going home in a year or so. It was his duty; and besides, he hated a show of incapability. Perhaps, like others, he ought to engage a ‘sleeping dictionary’, but women could be a deuced distraction; native women especially. Besides, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look Miss Hervey in the eye.

  If only the moonshee were back.

  At the guardhouse the picket turned out and presented arms. Hervey checked the reins with the merest flex of the finger, bringing Minnie to a walk – no one rode past the guardhouse at the trot, even when there was but a single sentry – touched the peak of his forage cap with the top of his whip, then made across the empty parade ground for regimental headquarters. St Alban stood waiting on the verandah.

  ‘Good afternoon, Colonel.’

  ‘I trust you’ll think so,’ said Hervey, giving Minnie a pat and handing her to an orderly.

  St Alban knew the pat meant there was work afoot.

  ‘Is the major at office?’

  ‘He’s not. He and the quartermaster have gone to the Black Town.’

  Hervey looked puzzled. ‘Why so?’

  St Alban looked equally puzzled. It was true that there was no detail of a regiment that was beyond an adjutant’s purview, but there were limits to a man’s capacity. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know, Colonel. Is there anything amiss?’

  ‘No … I … I had wished to tell the major of his success in his scheme. The governor has commuted Askew’s sentence to transportation for life. You may make the arrangements forthwith.’