The Passage to India

by Allan Mallinson

  ‘With pleasure, Colonel.’

  ‘Very well, gentlemen. Mackworth, you know the city: have the Third relieved as soon as may be. I’ll send a note to their captain that they’re to retire on the horse bazaar and await further orders. And Colonel Brereton may stand down also for the time being. I’ll send him word too.’

  ‘Shall we have a magistrate with us, or do I act on my own authority?’

  Hervey looked at the mayor.

  ‘I regret that my magistrates are not proficient, Colonel, when it comes to equitation. They would, I fear, be a hindrance, or worse. I shall give Major Mackworth the same instruction that I gave Colonel Brereton: to take the most vigorous, effective and decisive means in his power to quell the existing riot and prevent any further destruction of property.’

  Mackworth looked pleased with the arrangement. He had no desire to nursemaid a magistrate in a mounted action.

  Hervey was confident enough that Pinney could be relied on. He was assured nevertheless to see Mackworth making a careful note.

  He turned to the Fourteenth’s captain. ‘Very well; Captain Gage, you are to act under the orders of Major Mackworth until such time as I am able to combine all the troops of the Fourteenth under Major Beckwith.’

  ‘Yes, Colonel. We are all eagerness.’

  Hervey glanced at Beckwith.

  ‘I’ll go myself to Queen Square till the squadron’s come, with your leave.’

  ‘Of course. And Mackworth, be so good as to send me word of the situation each hour. By all means extend into the surrounding parts if there is opportunity, but not risking the square.’

  ‘Colonel.’

  Hervey now looked to the yeomanry. Few though they were, as local men they might have a good instinct for the streets. It troubled him that they’d been inactive yesterday, standing in want of orders, and then quit the city; but yeomen were yeomen. They had a decidedly confined view of the world and its affairs, unlike the regulars, who considered themselves not to be bound by any territorial considerations, and their officers – the best of them, at least – willing and in most cases able to take whatever responsibility was demanded by the occasion. And regardless of rank, with none of the ‘I am but a colonel, or major – or cornet even.’ That was the essence with regulars. The liability of duty was unlimited, absence of orders no defence.

  ‘Captain Shute, be so good as to take your troop to Mr Fisher’s horse repository – you know its whereabouts? – and await orders. I understand you were awaiting them all of yesterday. They will not be long in coming today, I assure you.’

  ‘Colonel.’

  Hervey now pencilled scrips for Brereton and Warrington and handed them to Mackworth. ‘So, gentlemen, to your duties.’

  They left briskly and to warm expressions of appreciation by the aldermen – Whig and Tory alike.

  St Alban came. ‘The letter has just left by the mail, Colonel, and the same to Lord Hill. I impressed on the driver – and the guard – its imperative arrival this evening.’ He handed him a fair copy:

  My Lord, — I have the honour to inform you that, as the senior officer present in the city of Bristol, having proceeded to that place for ceremonial duty in connexion with the Assizes, I have assumed command of all troops and in concert with the Mayor, on whose authority I act, am taking the most vigorous action for suppression of the riot which has to this date done extensive damage to property in the City, both public and private, and occasioned certain loss of life to a degree yet to be determined. By the accounts given to me upon arrival in the early hours of this morning, the response of the Civil Power may at first have been uncertain, and that of the Military likewise hesitant, proceeding in part from a conviction that there were too few troops to impose order and that their presence only aggravated matters, which led to their most unfortunate withdrawal, leaving the major part of the City at the mercy of the rioters. I may assure Your Lordship that a large number of troops are now summoned to the City and their arrival expected this day, sufficient, I believe, to restore order on the streets and to enable the Posse Comitatus to apprehend the felons. I may further assure Your Lordship that I shall not hesitate to use any force as is available to me, and that that is the wish of the Civil Power also.

  I am Your Lordship’s humble servant,

  Matthew Hervey,

  Lieutenant-Colonel & Brevet,

  His Majesty’s 6th Light Dragoons.

  ‘I think that will serve,’ said Hervey thoughtfully. ‘Mr Mayor, have you had any communication with London?’

  ‘I have, sir. Beyond requests for assistance I sent a report – of no great length, I admit – by the first mail this morning.’

  Hervey was now doubly pleased that St Alban had pressed him to write at once, and directly to the Home Office. ‘Then I trust we shall have every assistance soon.’

  Perhaps even a squadron from Hounslow … Though more likely it would first be a general officer, and his part in the proceedings ended. No matter: the business was his for the day, and almost certainly the night as well. It didn’t do to be relieved of command while things were undecided; the officer who followed would claim any victory his and put the blame for any failure on the man who had gone before. (Poor Brereton: his handling of events was sure to bring about a court martial.) If the Fourteenth did their duty now, he was sure the riot would be fatally weakened; and if the infantry were not too long in coming from Wales he was certain he would be handing to the general officer a fait accompli. Meanwhile he must depend on the special constables. ‘I trust Lord Melbourne will send some inspectors.’

  ‘I had not thought to ask for them, Colonel, but I should very much welcome such practised assistance to my sheriffs,’ replied Pinney, as one of the aldermen handed him a note. ‘Ah, I have word from the sheriff of the city that they’ve sworn three hundred military pensioners, and these are now mustered at the College Green – under a Major Arkle.’

  ‘Arkle?’

  ‘An officer of the half-pay, sir, resident here,’ explained the alderman.

  ‘Capital,’ said Hervey, brightening further. ‘I shall go to see them at once. You will permit me to have Arkle act under my orders?’

  ‘I should be very glad of it,’ said the mayor, and looking as if he would.

  But there was one more application of force that Hervey knew he must consider, for if his plans failed he could not be left without reply. ‘I intend then going to the docks to have one of the armed merchantmen brought up. I shall need your authority.’

  The mayor blanched. ‘Cannon, Colonel Hervey?’

  ‘I have no intention of using them unless the troops are driven from the street, in which case the whole city will soon be ablaze. Meanwhile the mere sight of them – in broad daylight – gives warning; and overawes.’

  Should overawe; but there was no cause to give the mayor any doubt, and therefore cause to refuse him.

  ‘Very well, Colonel. I salute your resolution.’

  ‘And I yours, Mr Mayor.’

  ‘You may impress the Earl of Liverpool, just returned from Nevis. She is in my ownership. Her master is Joseph Bailey. I’ll send for him.’

  By the time Hervey got to Queen Square the Fourteenth had relieved the Third and dealt summary justice to a host of determined despoilers who had misjudged the strength of the squadron and tried to stand their ground at the southern end. He found Mackworth by the statue of King William, which, courtesy of the dragoons, was no longer festooned in drapery.

  ‘You’ll presently have two hundred special constables, all of them veterans, under a half-pay major – name of Arkle. They ought to be able to hold the square, so that you can begin cracking about the streets. I’ll order Shute to take back the New Gaol – with veterans to assist – and when that’s done we can begin restocking it, and then—’

  His attention was suddenly drawn to a black-clad figure stepping out of the ruins on the west side. ‘Who goes there?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Mackworth, curious, �
�but he hasn’t the look of one we’ve just ridden over.’

  ‘He appears to be making towards us – fuddled, or intelligence to impart perhaps? Let’s do him the politeness.’

  They trotted over.

  The man raised his hat – a black, broad-brimmed shovel. And his black clad was plainly not a cloak but a cassock.

  Hervey touched his cap in return. ‘Reverend sir, these are evil parts this morning. You had better for your safety go back north towards King Street and beyond, but not yet to the cathedral. There are still ruffians to be rooted out nearby.’

  ‘Thank you, sir, but I am not of the cathedral. I am the Catholic priest – Francis Edgeworth, sir, of St Joseph’s chapel, in Trenchard Street. I come here to see if any of my charge have been caught up in this – as you say – evil.’

  ‘It does you credit, Father, but I urge nevertheless that you quit the square. It wouldn’t do for a dragoon to misjudge things, as may happen in business such as this.’

  ‘I don’t say that any of my charge would engage in riot, not of their free will, but some of them are barely in their teens and susceptible. I could not rest unless I saw to it that it was not so. “Dreadful are the wrongs of insolent and cruel prosperity.”’

  ‘Quite,’ replied Hervey, suppressing a smile. ‘Now, Father, it would be best that you retire to a safer—’

  ‘When the mayor called for honest men as constables, I went to the Council House and said that I could raise two hundred, but the aldermen would not hear of it, on the grounds of their being Irish and therefore a prey to drink. But they are the King’s honest subjects, sir, and would do their duty.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Hervey absently. He’d no wish to be distracted by questions of Catholic loyalty at such a time (Irish troops, under good regulation, had always done the duke well in Spain). ‘But it is best that you quit the square without delay.’

  Fr Edgeworth looked deeply disappointed.

  ‘No, wait, Father. Where is Trenchard Street?’

  ‘But a furlong north of College Green, sir.’

  ‘Do you say you could assemble a hundred men and have them under good regulation?’

  ‘I do. Two hundred indeed.’

  ‘Very well. I am, by the bye, Colonel Hervey, the senior officer in the city at the present time. Upon my authority I would have you assemble these men ready to assist at the gaol.’

  ‘It shall be done, Colonel. Two hours, perhaps three.’

  ‘Then you may expect a summons for help soon thereafter. I thank you for your public spirit, sir.’

  Fr Edgeworth raised his hat again and scurried off.

  ‘I’ve no idea whether they’ll be in the least useful,’ said Hervey to St Alban; ‘but it seems to me better to have two hundred Irish under regulation of their priest than trust to their sober habits.’

  St Alban smiled.

  ‘A learnèd priest, too, Colonel. You marked the Euripides – “insolent and cruel prosperity”?’

  Hervey shook his head. ‘Nor even what he meant by it, unless another advocate of Reform.’

  ‘Do you know, Colonel, that is the first time I heard a Roman priest speak. I never supposed I would.’

  Hervey looked at him in some surprise. ‘We got on with them famously in Spain – and Portugal even better. The English sort are a different kettle of fish, I grant you. As for the Irish … Let’s now go and see the yeomanry.’

  He had no great hopes of finding a corps of any great serviceability. Most of the yeomanry had been disbanded when the French wars were done, and troops only very recently re-raised to deal with unrest in the countryside. The Bedminsters knew the open fields south of the Avon, not the streets to its north. They might very well be a liability. But they were at least under some regulation.

  In fact he found them – if not exactly what he’d call soldierly – most business-like. They wore practical-looking shakos, nothing outlandish, and he had always observed that if a corps of men were sensibly topped, they were inclined to answer as a body. Indeed the Bedminsters, he knew, were part of the North Somerset Yeomanry, who’d never completely stood down after the Great Disturber sailed for St Helena, and the Somerset yeomen had not been idle in the years since – recalcitrant colliers in Radstock, machine-breaking weavers in Frome, and, only last year, rick-burners at Kenn.

  Nor was Shute of the cast of men to shirk duty. Hervey had intended keeping his troop under cover till the rest of the Fourteenth were come, and all the constables paraded, but he decided he could risk sending them at once to take possession of what remained of the New Gaol, for there had to be somewhere to confine the sweepings of the streets.

  A message came from the Council House: the troop from Gloucester had arrived.

  Hervey gave Shute his orders, and hastened back – a gallop across College Green, on to the towpath, across the bridge where earlier they’d scattered a good few, up the Quay Head to keep clear of Corn Street, where ruffians still ranged, and into Broad Street from the north end.

  He found a sight for the sorest eyes: a continuous line of dragoons between the Guildhall and the Council House. And cheering from every window in the street – the first sign of public approbation he’d had.

  Now, at last, they’d make progress.

  Inside he found the troop captain consulting with the mayor over a town plan.

  ‘Ambrose Congreve, Colonel.’

  He had the look of a man who knew what he was about. ‘I am glad to see you, Captain Congreve. You had no difficulty on entering the city?’

  ‘No, Colonel, but the road was crowded with roughs as we came to the turnpike gate; they took to the fields and ran in every direction. It was tempting to give chase, but my orders were to come here without delay. There were several handcarts abandoned, which must have been laden with plunder, but I could no more spare men to guard them than I could to chase their owners.’

  ‘Just so. Be assured, though: as soon as there are troops to spare we’ll pursue them.’ He turned to the mayor. ‘Where will they be bound?’

  ‘Kingswood, for sure – pitmen. My constables’ll roust them out – just as soon as you can furnish escorts.’

  ‘Have you apprised Captain Congreve of the situation and our intention?’

  ‘I have.’

  Congreve nodded. ‘I am quite clear as to what is required, Colonel.’

  ‘I have given the captain the same written authority as before,’ added the mayor. ‘I would not have him in any doubt as to what discretion he has.’

  ‘Admirable,’ said Hervey. Whatever earlier neglect there had been, the mayor was displaying a very marked determination to make up lost ground. ‘Your troop looks well found, Captain Congreve. My compliments. What is it from Gloucester to here – thirty miles?’

  ‘Nearer forty, Colonel.’

  Hervey looked surprised. That was a day’s march as a rule. ‘What time did you set out?’

  ‘Two-thirty, Colonel. We received the express at two and paraded at once. We’d had rumour of call-out all day, and the men slept in their regimentals.’

  It was now close to midday. Forty miles in nine hours, half of it at night with only a quarter moon … ‘Then your horses are indeed in fine condition.’

  ‘They are, Colonel.’

  ‘Very well, as soon as they’ve caught their breath take them to Queen Square, where you’ll find Major Beckwith, and act under his orders. Do you know the city?’

  ‘But little, Colonel. The town plan is clear enough, though.’

  ‘Good man. As for victuals, you shall have bread and meat presently. And corn. My sar’nt-major is quartermaster.’

  ‘Very good, Colonel.’ He made to leave.

  Hervey’s expression softened a little. ‘Are you by any good fortune related to the Congreves of Waterford?’

  The captain smiled. ‘Indeed I am, Colonel. You know Mount Congreve?’

  ‘It’s fifteen years and more since I was there. To hunt – the Kilkenny.’

  �
�They still run fast, John Power’s hounds.’

  To the mayor and aldermen it no doubt seemed strange to be speaking thus at such a time; but it never did ill to make some connection with a man suddenly placed under command. And it never did ill to remind those who were not under authority that those who were came ultimately of a different world. For not only might it avoid misunderstanding, it must reassure. These under authority might have their doubts and fears as well as the next man, but they could not take counsel of them.

  The mayor was a man of discernment, however, as well as of business. As Congreve took his leave, he thanked him again – with civic dignity. He would not make too much of it with Hervey, though. A Congreve of Waterford, though the name meant nothing to him as such, was quite evidently of some standing, even within the superior society of dragoons. He himself, when all was said and done, was engaged in trade (though most successfully, which had brought him to his high office at the same age as Captain Congreve of Waterford had, he supposed, purchased command), and he was already acutely aware that Hervey bore the name of the family in which stood the marquessate of his own city (and so must presume a connection). He thought the Herveys were Whig; but the army was the King’s device, and therefore Tory. Indeed, he was encompassed about by Tories, and so would confine himself to a modest expression of regard so as not to tempt any lofty response: ‘I am confident we shall be delivered of this evil very soon, Colonel Hervey.’

  He held out a handbill.

  ‘I have had these circulated throughout the city.’

  Council House, Bristol, Oct 31, 1831

  The Posse Comitatus of this City and County having been called out to act in conjunction with the Military to endeavour to restore the Peace of the City, and as the most severe measures must be adopted to accomplish that object, the Magistrates earnestly caution all Persons not engaged in official duties as Constables to keep within their respective Dwellings as they will otherwise be exposed to the most imminent peril.