Sword of Fortune

by Christopher Nicole

  ‘A total of approximately eighteen thousand fighting men,’ Wellesley said quietly.

  ‘That is exclusive of the garrisons here in Bombay, in Madras, in Calcutta, of course, and in our other main trading centres,’ the Governor-General went on. ‘We have some eight thousand troops, mainly Indian, in and around this island. In addition the Nizam, who is firmly in our support, is supplying a contingent of ten thousand foot and six thousand horse.’

  ‘That sounds a formidable force,’ Richard said. ‘Over thirty thousand. Who commands it?’

  ‘George Harris,’ Mornington said. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘No, sir. I am out of touch with Company appointments.’

  ‘He is experienced in Indian affairs,’ Wellesley said.

  ‘Then should he not be here, discussing the situation with us?’

  ‘General Harris is with the army, in Madras, awaiting his orders,’ Mornington said. ‘I do not discuss affairs with my subordinates, I give them directives.’

  ‘Then no doubt I should withdraw,’ Richard said.

  Mornington’s head came up, and he stared at Richard for several seconds.

  ‘By God,’ he said at last. ‘You are a bold rascal. There is still a warrant out for your arrest in Bombay.’

  ‘To serve it would surely be a waste, as you have brought me here to help you.’

  ‘Help me? By God…’

  Richard stood up. ‘As I am mistaken, I shall take my leave.’

  Mornington stared at him.

  ‘Sit down, man,’ Wellesley said. ‘Tell us what you think of the situation.’

  Richard remained standing.

  ‘Oh, sit down, man.’ Mornington said at last. ‘Have you anything to offer?’

  ‘Only my knowledge of campaigning in this country, and my knowledge of the character of the Indians, particularly the Viceroys.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Have you any information as to how many men Tippoo commands?’

  ‘Nothing accurate,’ Wellesley said. ‘We estimate perhaps sixty to seventy thousand.’

  ‘Double your numbers.’

  ‘That is why we sought the assistance of Ship Sahib,’ Mornington pointed out. ‘It appears not to be forthcoming.’

  ‘Of that sixty thousand only a handful are French,’ Wellesley said reassuringly.

  ‘But he also holds Seringapatam, which by repute is a formidable fortress,’ Mornington argued. ‘And he has mustered sizeable rocket firers.’

  ‘He will not be an easy victim,’ Richard said. ‘Seringapatam is the key to the whole campaign. A Viceroy without a capital city immediately becomes nothing more than a dacoit. The Maratha leaders are in any event very conscious of being hardly better than brigands. Their power reaches back less than a hundred years. You spoke of “face” on our journey south from Hansi, Colonel Wellesley. It matters far more to the Indians than to the Europeans. Lord Cornwallis made his mistake in 1792 when he merely demanded an indemnity from Tippoo. He should have put him out of Seringapatam.’

  Mornington said. ‘That is a piece of clear thinking, General. But do we have men enough for an assault on Seringapatam? As my brother says, it is a powerful fortress.’

  Richard remembered George Thomas beneath the walls of Sohawalgarh, and grinned. ‘A fortress, my lord is only as powerful as the men who defend it, and it is as weak as the men who assault it.’

  ‘By God, sir.’ Mornington commented. ‘Well said.’

  ‘Any fortress defended by sixty thousand men is a formidable nut to crack,’ Wellesley remarked.

  ‘Quite so. So Tippoo’s forces must be reduced. But we must harass him, bedevil him. I know one of his commanders, a Frenchman named Peyraud. I believe Peyraud can be lured into a field action, if he believes he has a chance of success. For this purpose, my lord, we need a subsidiary army, or at least a brigade.’

  ‘Where am I supposed to get them, sir?’

  ‘You say there is a garrison of eight thousand here in Bombay? You can spare six thousand of them.’

  Mornington looked at his brother.

  ‘Go on,’ Wellesley invited, his chin resting on his hand.

  ‘This must be secretly done, so as not to arouse Peyraud’s suspicions. Your main army should carry out the manoeuvre I believe you already have in mind, and march from Madras on Seringapatam. Tippoo and Peyraud will be very aware of its approach, and make their dispositions accordingly.’

  ‘And the other?’

  ‘You will use your command of the sea, requisition every craft that may be necessary, and land it on the Malabar coast.’

  ‘We already have three sepoy battalions under Colonel Montresor on the Malabar coast,’ Mornington said.

  ‘Well then, our chances of surprise are improved. Tippoo will hardly fear much from three battalions. But reinforced, the seaborne expedition should be able to make a dash for Seringapatam and seize the city while Tippoo is occupied with General Harris.’

  ‘Is this force to take a fortress without guns?’ Wellesley inquired.

  ‘I believe it will do so, sir, properly led and with the advantage of surprise.’

  ‘Now there’s the rub,’ Mornington commented. ‘Suppose we go along with your proposal, sir—and I am bound to say I do not like it—General Harris must command the main force. With him will be Sir David Baird and General Lake. The only other general officer here at the moment capable, in my opinion, of manoeuvring a detached force into hill country, is my garrison commander General Stuart. Nor, sir, can I put you in command, as you would clearly like. Your position here is purely that of an advisor.’

  ‘I accept that, my lord. But I believe it will be worth your while to spare General Stuart for such a great object. You will be using most of his troops in any case.’

  ‘The devil,’ Mornington said.

  ‘There is another point, sir,’ Richard went on. ‘You may feel, as you say, that the Nizam is firmly supportive of the Company. May I ask who is commanding his army? Ali himself?’

  Mornington shook his head. ‘His brother.’

  ‘Well then, sir, I most strongly advise that the Prince be given the support of an English officer, if possible with an English regiment, just to make sure he does not change his mind about supporting you, perhaps in the middle of an action.’

  ‘The devil,’ Mornington said again. ‘And where am I to find this officer, sir?’

  ‘Well…’ Richard looked at Wellesley.

  ‘My brother?’ Mornington demanded.

  Wellesley gave a little cough.

  ‘I can think of no one better,’ Richard said.

  ‘By God! And you, Arthur? Do you accept this commission?’

  ‘Of course. With my own people, the Thirty-Third Foot.’

  ‘Hm. And what of this plan of Mr Bryant’s, this forlorn hope?’

  ‘I think it sounds a very sensible stratagem. It could well work.’

  Mornington looked at Bryant. And where will you be while all this is taking place?’

  ‘I intend to accompany General Stuart, sir.’

  ‘Hm. Well, it’s your plan. Very good. I will summon General Stuart and require him to carry out your manoeuvre, with you as his advisor. Thank you, gentlemen.’

  ‘There are two things more, sir,’ Richard said.

  Mornington raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Firstly,’ Richard said, ‘no one must know that I am accompanying this expedition, or that I have anything to do with it. I have entered Bombay clandestinely, and I will leave it clandestinely. This is of vital importance.’

  ‘If you wish it to be so. It will make my business easier, certainly. But what of your…ah, wife?’

  ‘Her presence here is also unknown at the moment. I do not suppose for a moment it can be kept so indefinitely. But the secret must be kept until after our expedition is launched.’

  Mornington gave a brief smile. ‘I will keep her under lock and key myself, Mr Bryant. You mentioned another point.’

  ‘Simply that, supp
osing my plan meets with success, and Seringapatam falls, I claim the right of selection from amongst the captives, of two for my own.’

  ‘By God!’ Mornington cried. ‘But you are a savage after all. I’ll have no slaves taken, sir.’

  ‘Slavery will not be involved, sir,’ Richard said quietly.

  ‘You are thinking of Peyraud,’ Wellesley observed. ‘I thought I detected a certain venom in your voice whenever you mentioned his name. I am afraid that we cannot permit you to murder an opposing officer, supposing he surrenders, simply because of some old grudge.’

  ‘It is not Peyraud I seek,’ Richard said, hurrying on as he saw the brothers exchanging glances. ‘He has absconded with my wife and son. I want them back.’

  ‘Your wife, sir?’ the Governor-General shouted. ‘Is not that lady upstairs your wife?’

  ‘Indeed, sir. I also have a wife waiting for me in Hansi. And one, as I have said, in Seringapatam.’

  ‘By God,’ Mornington commented. ‘You are a veritable Turk, sir.’

  ‘And you say she was abducted by this Frenchman?’ Wellesley asked.

  Richard nodded.

  ‘Together with your son,’ Wellesley mused. ‘I understand why you are here, sir; and why you are anxious not to let the scoundrel know you are on your way to rescue them. Indeed I do. Well, General Bryant, we shall certainly have to see about getting them back for you.’

  Diary of Mrs Richard Bryant, 1 March 1799

  And why should I not call myself so, as it may be for the last time!

  Today Richard sailed out of Bombay, together with General Stuart and his brigade. A week ago, I understand, the main armament marched from Madras. Presumably the destination of both is this dreadful place Seringapatam.

  It is Richard’s intention to rescue his wife and son! His wife!!

  He admits he should have told me the whole story before, although he points out that before eloping with me he told me that he already had two wives. And I did not believe him!

  This woman is not as Tanna. She is apparently Scottish. And she is the mother of his son. What a curse I have to bear that I am childless!

  Dear Richard! I should hate him, but I cannot. He is transparently honest. He understands how I will feel, and has given me a choice as to my future. I am now a wealthy woman, according to Lord Mornington. Aunt Lucy has long been dead, and Uncle Jonathan has recently also died, intestate. He made no will in my favour, yet there is no one else with a claim on it. I am his next of kin. Uncle Jonathan’s estate, therefore, less a certain part due to the crown, has reverted to me, and simply awaits claiming.

  In addition, Richard has presented me with a vast sum in coin and jewellery, and told me to use it as I wish.

  I can take ship on the next Indiaman, home to England!

  Does anyone there remember me? Lord Mornington tells me Lamont has obtained a divorce on the grounds of my desertion. I am notorious. But I have broken no laws, and I am a wealthy woman.

  Why, suitors will come flocking to my door!

  But not one of them will be Richard!!

  The alternative is to remain here and await his return, with his Scottish wife.

  Does he love her? He says he cannot tell, after so long. Then why seek her? He loved her once. Besides, she is the mother of his son. Oh, damn the mothers of sons…

  Does he, then, not love me? Has he ever loved me? He has told me of his love, certainly. But was that the truth?

  What am I to do?

  There is a third choice. Lord Mornington has offered me an escort to return to Hansi, if I wish.

  I suspect that Lord Mornington would offer me more than that, if I wish!!! But not marriage, of course!

  He is a very odd fellow. Last night at dinner he even suggested that Colonel Wellesley is not his true brother, but only a half-relation.

  If I return to Hansi, and Tanna, and the children, and George, I should be sure of a welcome. And I would be there when Richard returns with his Scotswoman! If I do not mean to leave him, then that is what I must do.

  Suppose he is killed on this senseless campaign, and never returns at all? Why, then is the time to leave, and go home. To run away without a battle were to prove myself a coward.

  I must go and see Lord Mornington, and see what can be done.

  14: Seringapatam

  General Stuart and his subordinate, General Hartley, had both heard of the famous Ship Sahib and his general General Bryant.

  ‘We shall be glad to have you with us, sir,’ Stuart said, in some awe.

  They were less happy when they learned that the entire plan was Richard’s.

  ‘By God, sir,’ Hartley said. ‘I hope you know what you are about. Suppose Tippoo turns his entire force upon us?’

  This was indeed what happened. Stuart’s brigade had hardly disembarked on the Malabar coast, when a sepoy, not in uniform and carrying a despatch wound into the folds of his turban, appeared out of the forest before them, with an urgent message from Colonel Montresor.

  ‘By God,’ Stuart commented. ‘He reports a huge force of Marathas moving west, upon his position. This is just what I feared.’

  ‘Why, sir?’ Richard asked. ‘We can surely defeat Tippoo in a defensive battle. And every man he directs against us makes General Harris’s march the easier. My plan was that one force would draw the Marathas off while the other dashed for Seringapatam. Well, sir, if our smaller force does the drawing-off, that is Tippoo’s mistake. I suggest you advance the brigade as rapidly as possible and engage this “huge” force.’

  He commandeered two of the few horses landed from the transports, and with Soliman, Bootil’s replacement as his servant, rode forward to Montresor’s position to see for himself what sort of force was opposing them. While wishing the Company every success in its campaign, his motives for being here were personal, and if by any chance Peyraud were with the people blocking their advance, he might achieve his objective far sooner than he had hoped. Once Peyraud was dead, he did not suppose anyone was going to trouble about his widow and children.

  He found Montresor with his three battalions, something less than two thousand men, occupying a hill called Sedaseer, some eight miles inland. Below him, at about two miles distance, there was indeed an extensive camp, denoting a large force of Marathas. In the middle of the encampment was a green tent.

  ‘That is most definitely Tippoo,’ Richard observed.

  ‘What’s to be done?’ Montresor inquired.

  Richard studied the Marathas through his glass. There were French officers down there, but the evening was misty and he could identify none of them. But why were they there at all? Was it possible their strategy had been leaked? The natives on the coast were all full of the news that General Harris was marching from Mysore with a large army, yet here was Tippoo opting to take on the subsidiary force.

  On the other hand, where Tippoo was must be the decisive place. If he could be defeated here, and perhaps taken, the road to Seringapatam would be open.

  Richard sent a runner back to Stuart, again requesting him to bring up his entire brigade as rapidly as possible, while he studied the encampment beneath him. Additional forces were constantly arriving, yet Richard was sure they could be defeated, if they could be tempted into attacking the more disciplined Company troops.

  Hartley arrived at dusk, but with only a single sepoy battalion.

  ‘The general wishes us to be absolutely sure of Tippoo’s intentions before committing himself,’ he told Richard and Montresor. ‘And also to be quite sure that it really is Tippoo down there, and not some elaborate trap.’

  Richard could not see what trap could be involved, and went to bed in a very uneasy frame of mind. While he had no doubt the brigade could hold the force down the hill, he couldn’t be sure of four battalions.

  His restlessness was compounded by the possibility that Peyraud might be within a few miles of him.

  At dawn, as there was no sign of movement beneath them, he and General Hartley led a reconnai
ssance forward. There was a thick mist, and it was impossible to see for more than fifty feet ahead. They had not advanced more than a mile, when they encountered a body of Marathas marching west. Shots were exchanged, and Richard and Hartley hastily withdrew.

  ‘He’s coming for us, no matter who is in command,’ Richard said. ‘Send a runner back to Stuart and tell him we must have his entire brigade, as rapidly as possible.’

  They regained the hill, and put Montresor’s small force into the best possible defensive positions. This was just as well, because no sooner had the mist cleared than the Marathas launched an attack several thousand strong, up the slope. The sepoys met them with disciplined volleys and they fell back, only to reform for another attack.

  They were being urged onwards by several French officers, but distinguishing Peyraud in the midst of the swirling smoke was impossible. In any event, Richard had more important things to think of, as the Marathas came again and again, and were met each time by disciplined volleys which threw them back.

  Yet there were always a few men who got close enough to fire into the sepoy ranks, or even hurl spears, and soon there were too many red tunics stretched on the ground.

  Richard had never fought a defensive battle before, and he found it extremely trying. The Marathas vastly outnumbered the Company force, and for all the heavy casualties inflicted, the steady dwindling of the defenders was alarming.

  He could not help but admire the gallantry of the Company troops, however, and that of their officers who exposed themselves recklessly while encouraging their men. He had to follow their example, praying all the while that Peyraud himself would come up the hill. But he did not.

  It was noon, some five hours after the battle had commenced, when Stuart finally arrived with the brigade. He had in fact encountered a body of Marathas attempting to turn the Sedaseer position, and had paused to put them to flight.

  He arrived at Sedaseer just in time, for Montresor’s force was exhausted, and had used up nearly all its ammunition. As the brigade began to stream down the hill behind well-aimed volleys, bayonets gleaming in the midday sun, the Marathas broke and fled, many of them throwing away their turbans in their haste and anxiety. Some two thousand dead and wounded were recovered from the slopes beneath the hill; the Company losses were a hundred and fifty.