She went as soon as she could to Lady Sale’s house, where the wounded man had eventually been carried, to see if she could help. Mrs Sturt could not leave her husband, but her mother came out for a moment or two to thank Perdita for her concern. She said:
‘He has been stabbed deeply in the shoulder and side, and on the face. His nerves have been affected by the wound, and his mouth will not open. His tongue is swollen and paralysed. He cannot speak or take any liquid. He is in the greatest agony and he looks ghastly and faint from loss of blood.’ She covered her eyes for a moment and said in a more broken voice than Perdita could have believed her capable of, ‘The choking sensation of the blood in his throat is most painful to witness.’
‘I can imagine,’ said Perdita, remembering Aneila’s dying agony. ‘Please tell Mrs Sturt that if there is any help I can give she has only to send a servant over and I shall come.’
They shook hands briefly, and Perdita went home to find Captain Lawrence on the verandah talking to Captain Thurleigh. Lawrence broke off when he saw her to greet her courteously, but Thurleigh impatiently dragged his attention back to the matter in hand. Perdita heard him say:
‘Never mind that now, George. What the hell is happening?’
‘We cannot be sure, but the Shah has sent a message that Burnes is safe. Apparently, he went to consult the wazir at the beginning of the outbreak.’
‘But you told me yourself that you did not see him there this morning. I don’t trust the Shah one inch. If you ask me, he is behind all this trouble.’
‘Bosh, James. He may be weak, but he is not a blackguard.’
‘I would not be too sure of that.’ Then he turned to Perdita and demanded coldly, ‘Where have you been?’
‘Only to visit poor Mrs Sturt,’ she said, startled by his tone.
‘Well, do not go outside cantonments, and tell me where you are going within. I have guaranteed your safety to your husband.’
‘Of course,’ she said and went into the house.
Later in the day, Lawrence was back with the news that the Shah had sent another note to confess that he had not seen Burnes all day and did not know where he was, but that if the insurrection was not over by the next morning he would burn the city.
‘I suppose that is something,’ said Thurleigh.
‘How can he? The houses are all mud,’ said Perdita. Thurleigh answered impatiently:
‘It’s been done three times before here. You throw shells into each house individually, and they burn enough before the mud roof falls in and smothers the flames.’
Perdita retired to the edge of the room and listened to the two men without volunteering anything.
‘But why haven’t the troops been sent in?’ asked Thurleigh.
‘It’s not as easy as all that,’ answered Lawrence. ‘The streets are all so narrow and the houses so well built for defensive operations that our fellows would be massacred if they went in. One of the Shah’s regiments has already been cut to pieces.’
‘Well, if something isn’t done soon, those devils will assume that we are utterly supine and the whole country will rise. We must take the town, even if only to put the women and children in the Bala Hissar. That’s the only place where we could possibly hope to keep them alive. What on earth is the matter?’ he asked as Lawrence gestured towards the back of the room.
‘You must be seriously worrying, Lady Beaminster. Please do not misconstrue Thurleigh’s words. Our case is not so desperate as all that. We shall of course be able to protect you all.’ He smiled kindly at her.
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Lawrence. She’s intelligent enough at least to see the truth of our situation. Don’t insult her with pretence.’
Almost too surprised to speak, Perdita just managed to say quietly:
‘Thank you, Captain Thurleigh. I must say that I prefer not to ignore our probable fate, though I am grateful, Captain Lawrence, that you wished to spare me anxiety.’ She went out to find the children, wanting to spend as much time as she could with them, and hoping that if the worst came they would at least be killed outright and not have to linger in agony like poor Sturt’s or torment like Lieutenant Loveday’s at Khelat.
But when Annie asked, ‘Where is Papa?’ Perdita could not control the tears that seeped from her eyes and she hugged the girl and whispered:
‘I wish I knew. Oh, Annie, I wish I knew.’
She was woken at three the next morning by the drums beating to arms. Throwing a shawl round her shoulders, she ran out into the hall, to find Thurleigh coming out of his room still buttoning his breeches. She averted her eyes and said:
‘What is it? What is happening?’
‘How in God’s name should I know? Stay here. Keep the servants calm and I shall come back when I can. Oh, and stop that dam’ child yowling.’
Perdita hated him at that moment. She did not wait to see him go, but ran to the nursery where Annie had been woken by the noise and was wailing for her. Charlie was standing on his bed looking out of the window at the rushing men and horses thundering towards the gate.
The passing torches threw weird flashes of light into the room and in one she saw the excitement on his flushed little face. She wanted to drag him from the window, bury his face in her breast and tell him that war was not exciting, killing was not honourable, that he must not enjoy it or it would destroy him. But she could not, and she took some comfort from the feel of Annie’s warm, compact little body clutched to her own, straining to hear the shouted words that echoed past the walls. First it was:
‘… from the Seeah Sung. Yes, hundreds…’ And then:
‘Well, so much for Macnaghten’s views of the peace…’
‘What happens to the women? Someone must st…’
‘Oh, Lord, here they come. Ready lads.’
Then a wild shout:
‘But there’s Europeans with them. It’s the 121st!’
‘It can’t be. Hold up the torch. By God, it is!’
At that, Perdita stood up and with Annie still clinging to her she walked to the front door. She opened it and stood on the verandah as unconscious of the impropriety of appearing in public in her nightgown with her hair hanging down her back as of the icy cold of her bare feet, to watch the regiment ride in, pennants fluttering, spurs and bits jingling, guns thundering past on their iron wheels. Through the spurt of pride, she looked fearfully for her husband. When she saw him, riding erect at the head of his men, she bent down and whispered absurdly:
‘Everything will be all right now, Annie. Papa is back.’
She waited there in the cold, hoping that he would come back to the house, but soon it was clear that he must be with his men. Reluctantly she went back into the hall, closing the door behind her, to warm her feet and the child’s and then persuade the two of them to go back to bed and sleep.
She herself slept almost as soon as she had closed her eyes, and for once did not wake until her ayah came to draw her curtains. She dressed hastily and ran to the dining room hoping to find Marcus. He was not there, so she had to make polite conversation to Captain Thurleigh, who had looked up surprised at her precipitate entry. But in a very few minutes, they heard Marcus greeting the butler and a moment later he came in. Perdita could not stop herself from going to him and putting her arms around him. He patted her back perfunctorily and said.
‘My dear, don’t. I have not had a bath or a change of clothes since we marched.’ She had in fact been aware off a most peculiar smell as she embraced him, but she said as she stepped back:
‘What does that matter compared to your safety? Marcus, I am so…’ Dizzy with relief that he was safe, unwounded and back with her, she could not find a word to express herself. He smiled as though he knew, and said:
‘Would you send for some breakfast while I change?’
‘Of course, Marcus.’
He patted her again and said over her shoulder:
‘James, I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.’ He left them.
>
They sat in silence for some time until Thurleigh said without thinking very much:
‘He looks none the worse for it.’
‘No. Almost as though he had enjoyed it,’ answered Perdita, wondering how that could be possible.
Thurleigh said more sharply:
‘Perhaps he is just happy to be back with…’ He stopped himself and substituted:
‘Back at home.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said. She looked up to see the khitmagar coming in from the kitchen quarters. She gave him orders for the lord-sahib’s breakfast in her now-fluent Hindustani. When the man had gone, Thurleigh said:
‘I hope he is hungry.’
For the first time, Perdita smiled at him in genuine, friendly amusement. She said:
‘Well I expect he is, but even if not, he will understand why I ordered it all.’
Thurleigh smiled at her, without antagonism, as though recognizing that she too was a human being with feelings like his own. He was just beginning:
‘You know, you are…’ when Marcus walked back in, bathed, shaved and dressed in a clean uniform. They both smiled at him, and Thurleigh begged for news, while Perdita brought a cup of tea.
‘It was frightful,’ said Marcus as he sipped the scalding liquid. ‘Montieth’s men had been badly mauled when we got there, and we soon saw why. We could see no one as we entered the pass, but they were there all right.’ He paused to cram some kedgeree into his mouth. Perdita and James Thurleigh waited impatiently while he swallowed it and took another gulp of hot tea.
‘Well, come on, man,’ said Thurleigh. ‘What then?’ ‘James, give me time. I haven’t had a proper meal for days.’
‘Sorry, old man.’
‘Well, they were there all right: behind every rock, in every chimney all the way to the heights, they were hidden with their guns pointing down on the column. They seemed to wait until we were fairly entangled in the pass and then they opened fire.’
‘Yes,’ urged Thurleigh, still burning with impatience.
‘We could tell where they were from the flashes of their matchlocks, but it was next to impossible to hit any of them. And they just went on pouring their fire down on to us.’
‘How did you get through, then?’ asked Perdita.
‘Flankers, really,’ he said, carrying another loaded forkful of kedgeree to his mouth. They watched him chew and swallow.
‘The column was ordered to press on without slackening speed, while companies were detached to left and right. They engaged the Afghans and we marched on until we came to a devilish breastwork of stones they must have erected the night before.’ He paused, then caught sight of James’s expression and put the fork down. ‘We rushed it though, James, and for some reason they did not even try to defend it. As soon as there was a gap, Davis lashed his horses and took the guns through at a gallop. It was a magnificent sight, Perdita, those blacks of his flying through, their manes streaming and their mouths showing red, while the guns crashed and careered behind. I don’t wonder the tribesmen kept away.’
‘Oh, shabash Davis!’ cried Thurleigh, banging his fist on the table in his frustration. ‘I wish I had been there, instead of being trapped here with these fools and women.’
‘It must have been hard to come back,’ said Perdita thoughtfully, ‘after winning through like that.’
‘Yes. Lots of our fellows were angry that General Bob selected us to come back to protect the Envoy. But I was pleased,’ he said and smiled at her. ‘By the way, James, is it true that Macnaghten is paying those fiends again?’
‘Yes, but not as much as at first.’
‘I see; well, I hope to God it’s enough to keep them quiet while we take the women through. Never mind, dear,’ he added, noticing Perdita’s pallor, ‘tell me what has been happening here.’ But he did not wait to hear, turning to James to say: ‘I could hardly believe it when we heard that there has been a rebellion in the town and none of you has done anything about it.’
‘That is not quite fair,’ answered Thurleigh, ‘though Burnes is dead. We know that now. Poor fellow! He never got his chance to show how much better he could run this country than Macnaghten.’
‘But why has nothing been done? Why haven’t you taken the town?’
‘Several reasons, but you’d better get them from Lawrence: he believes’em. I don’t. Oh, very well. One, that it is difficult to see what kind of operation could have been mounted in that rabbit-warren of a town with cover for, enemy marksmen everywhere you choose to look. Two, the rising was not thought very serious at first. Don’t look at me like that, Marcus, but remember last year when all that fuss turned out to be quite unnecessary. Three, because the general thought it inadvisable. I ought not to tell you this, perhaps, but he wrote to Macnaghten explaining his dilemma over the propriety of entering the city and then said, “We must see what the morning brings and then think what must be done.”‘
Marcus dropped his head into his clasped hands and groaned. Then he said:
‘With an old woman like that at the head of the army, we are lost. Has no one ever told him that a commander must be decisive …?’ Thurleigh interrupted:
‘Possibly. But I imagine they have also told him, long ago, that it is essential for a general to be able to ride – or at least walk. Yes, you need not look so sceptical: the general is confined to his sofa with the gout.’
‘If they had to choose an ancient, they might at least have chosen one who knew what he was doing. Why on earth did he have to be a Queen’s officer? Experience must have told them by now that in the East you must have commanders who know the East.’
‘He fought at Waterloo – presumably that is why Wellington sent him out here.’
Perdita could remain silent no longer.
‘Should you not both be with your chiefs? If our situation is as desperate as you suggest, surely you should be doing something useful?’ She saw the surprise and anger with which they received her intervention and rushed to apologize: ‘Forgive me. I suppose I am too anxious to be rational. I shall go and see the children.’
As she closed the door behind her, Marcus was already getting up.
‘She is right, you know, James. I’ll see you later, old fellow.’
The desperation of the situation became clearer and clearer. Lieutenant Eyre, who was the Deputy Commissary of Ordnance, disposed all the guns he had around the perimeter of the cantonments, but even people with the least military intelligence could see that they were pitifully inadequate to withstand an attack, and quite useless against the sniping, skirmishing Afghans who proceeded to invest the commissariat fort.
The young officer in charge of its defence sent a stream of notes to the general, reporting on his position and begging for reinforcements. General Elphinstone appeared to think the request quite reasonable, for he ordered two companies of the 44th to reinforce it. Unfortunately they had to pass a fort owned and defended by Mohammed Sharrif, one of the most belligerent of the Afghans, on their way to the beleaguered garrison and were cut to pieces by his sniper fire. Both captains were killed, and their men straggled back to cantonments, dispirited, wounded and demoralized.
Later in the day, another attempt was made, this time by the cavalry, but again they were turned back. It came to the ears of the commissariat officers that the party had been given instructions to evacuate the fort, and they hurried to the general to point out the absurdity, the foolishness of abandoning all their stores to the enemy when the supplies kept within cantonments were sufficient for only about three days. General Elphinstone saw the point, and agreed to send strong reinforcements to the inexperienced and obviously panicky lieutenant guarding the fort. But other officers present, led by Captain Bellew, pointed out the dangers of such an exercise and made so many helpful and unhelpful suggestions that their courteous commanding officer wavered first one way and then the other, as though quite unable to make himself rude enough to adopt any policy proposed by one faction if it were disapproved of by anothe
r.
The end of it all was that the fort was evacuated in the early hours of the following morning. Later in the day, spectators in cantonments watched bitterly as the enemy swarmed over the fort’s walls only to emerge carrying off the precious supplies of grain, spirits, wine, beer and all the arrowroot and sago for the sick.
Lady Sale had taken up her usual position on the flat roof of her house, clinging to one of the chimneys, and she invited Perdita to join her to watch the shameful sight. Together they looked down on the plain, watching attacks on the forts commanded by Captains Mackenzie and Trevor, and wondered what was to be done to stop the escalating trouble. It was all too obvious to both Perdita and Lady Sale that if a force strong enough to fight through to the forts were sent out of cantonments there would not be enough troops left for defence. Perdita was thinking what she would be doing if she were Mrs Trevor, when Lady Sale said urgently.
‘Look! All is well, Lady Beaminster.’ She craned forward and saw coming through the main gate a party of Trevor’s native troops escorting the family, each adult carrying one of the children. They were all soaked to the thighs, having had to wade through the river, and their faces were gaunt with lack of sleep and anxiety, but there was triumph in their bearing. To have brought eight children from the fort just as the Afghans breached its walls was a feat to be cheered.
That small success raised the garrison’s spirits for a while, until failure piled on failure dashed them again. With each exhibition of English supineness and muddle, the Afghans increased in daring, and the morale of the defending troops fell still further. They had no confidence left in their invalid general. They all knew that he would listen to any advice, even from the most junior subaltern, and was quite unable to make up his own mind. His gout had recently become very bad, and he was now unable to walk or ride.
The Distant Kingdom Page 25