‘Let’s have ’em!’ Fitzgerald bellowed and ran forward. The grenadiers went after him with their bayonets lowered. Struggling back on to his feet Arthur ran his spare hand down his breeches until they came to a ragged tear over his knee.The cloth was sodden and when his fingers probed further a searing pain made him gasp. He stood up and limped towards the sounds of the fight nearby: the scrape of metal, the thud of blows and the groans of the combatants. A figure rose up in front of him, sword raised ready to strike. Just in time Arthur recognised the shape of the man’s hat.
‘Easy, Fitzgerald. It’s me!’
The young lieutenant froze for a moment and then laughed. ‘Sorry, sir.’
‘Where are the others?’
‘That way, sir.’ He turned and raised his arm, barely visible in the dark. ‘Over—’
Someone burst through the undergrowth just beyond Fitzgerald and then the lieutenant let out an explosive gasp as he was borne back, past Arthur, under the impact of a pike. An enemy soldier snarled with triumph as he drove the weapon on into the officer’s body and then, too late, he noticed Arthur, and the sabre scythed through the air and into his neck with a wet, crunching thud. Abruptly he released his hold on the pike and snatched at his throat, sinking to his knees before he toppled to one side with a gurgling sound. Arthur sheathed his sword and knelt beside Fitzgerald.
‘Oh, God . . . God . . .’ Fitzgerald moaned as his body trembled. ‘Sweet Jesus . . . it hurts.’
Arthur groped towards the shaft of the pike, felt along until he sensed Fitzgerald’s jacket and then fixed his grip on the pike. ‘Hold steady there.’
‘Sir?’ Fitzgerald writhed as the pike moved inside his stomach. Arthur gritted his teeth and wrenched the shaft and head of the weapon out and felt a rush of blood over his hands as the other man screamed.
‘Grenadiers!’ Arthur called out. ‘Over here! On me!’
There was a rustling as the men came back, breathing hard. ‘There you are, sir. Thought we’d lost you. Where’s Mr Fitzgerald?’
‘Here. He’s been injured. Did you deal with them? The enemy?’
‘Two down; the others ran for it. Not a scratch on us, sir.’
‘Good. Now, you, help Mr Fitzgerald. Get him over your shoulders.The rest of you find Williams and let’s get out of here. There’s nothing more we can do.’
‘What about you, sir?’ asked one of the grenadiers. ‘I heard you fall.’
‘I’m all right.’ Arthur replied through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t worry about me. Get moving.’
The nullah was closer than he had thought and shortly after the brief skirmish they emerged from the trees to see the bank rising up above them. As they struggled up the slope several figures rose up on either side.
‘33rd!’ Arthur snapped. ‘Colonel Wellesley. We’ve got wounded men here.We have to get them across to the other side. Lend a hand.’
The small party clambered into the water, helping Williams and Fitzgerald across to the other side.The lieutenant groaned in agony as he was manhandled over the nullah on the shoulders of three men, and he passed out before he reached the far bank. Arthur glanced back towards the impenetrable mass of the tope. There was still fighting going on in there, further off now, and he shook his head in pity and anger for the fate of his men before he turned and waded across the nullah.
‘Twenty-four casualties?’ Harris mused. ‘Not as bad as it could have been, Colonel. Too bad about Fitzgerald. He was a fine young man.’
It was shortly after midnight and Arthur stood before the general in the headquarters tent, still in sodden, muddy clothes. A bloodstained dressing had been tied round the flesh wound just above his knee. His face was rigid with barely suppressed rage as he replied. ‘Twenty-four of my men is bad enough, sir, considering they never should have been sent into the tope in the first place.’
‘It was a risk,’ Harris admitted. ‘And it failed. The tope is still in enemy hands. I had hoped we might save time by taking it tonight, but we’ll just have to make another attempt tomorrow, in daylight. I’ll give the job to Baird.’
‘Sir, I respectfully submit that I should command the second attempt.’
‘But you’re wounded.’
‘It was my task, sir. I deserve another chance.’
‘Really?’ Harris stared at him for a moment, and Arthur was sure that he would refuse.Then the general shrugged. ‘Very well, Wellesley, as you wish.The command is yours. But the 33rd needs a rest.You’ll have the Scottish Brigade for the job. Make sure you see it through.’
‘I will, sir.You have my word.’
‘Good. Now go and clean yourself up and get some sleep.’
‘Sir.’ Arthur saluted and turned painfully to stride out of the tent, only resorting to a limp when he was out of the general’s sight. As he rode Diomed back to the encampment of the Nizam’s column he decided that if the night’s disaster had taught him one thing, it was never to conduct any operations under cover of darkness, if it could be avoided. Never again would he lose control of his men in that way.The spectre of failure haunted him through the early hours. He tried to rest, but the vision of Fitzgerald’s face, as he died by the light of the surgeon’s lantern, returned to Arthur again and again, and robbed him of any sleep.
Chapter 49
Throughout April the army pushed its siege lines forward, capturing the enemy positions on the western bank of the south Cauvery river. The tope was taken in daylight and most of the bodies of the 33rd’s grenadiers were recovered, but eight remained unaccounted for and Arthur feared that they must have been taken prisoner. Once the enemy outposts had been cleared from in front of Seringapatam’s walls General Harris gave orders for the construction of strongly fortified batteries for the heavy siege guns that Arthur had procured while the army assembled for the campaign. At a range of nine hundred yards the guns methodically knocked out the enemy cannon along the western wall of Seringapatam before turning to pound the corner bastions into rubble.Then on the second day of May the batteries were aimed at the point along the wall that General Harris had chosen to be breached. An intense bombardment followed over the next two days, until a wide section of the city’s wall had been smashed through and Harris was satisfied that an assault could be made over the rubble.
That night he assembled his senior officers and announced his plan of attack.‘It’s important that we take the city on the first attempt.The first of the monsoon rains might arrive in the next two weeks and the brinjarris tell me that their food supplies are starting to run down. So I have decided to throw as many men into the attack as can be spared from defending our camp.There will be three formations in the attacking force: two assault columns and a reserve. Major General Baird has volunteered to lead the assault. Given the antipathy between Tipoo’s men and our Madras sepoys I pray that we do not have to deploy them in the battle for Seringapatam. They will be held in reserve.’
‘Who is to command the reserve, sir?’ Arthur asked. He already knew that the 33rd had been selected for the assault force and was looking forward to leading them into the attack.
‘You are.’
‘Me?’ Arthur started and some of the other officers could not help smiling at his surprised expression.Arthur fought back a flush of irritation with himself. ‘But who is to lead my regiment, sir?’
‘Major Shee.’
‘Sir, if my regiment is to be part of the attack, then I should be with them.’
Harris shook his head. ‘I need a steady head to control the reserve column. As soon as the attack goes in, you are to march your column across the river and wait outside the breach. I’m trusting you to use your judgement as to whether Baird needs any support. Is that clear, Wellesley?’
There was little chance of altering the general’s mind at this stage and Arthur accepted his role in the coming battle with as much grace as he could muster.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Very well then, gentlemen. The men will move forward in the trenches before dawn an
d keep out of sight until the signal to attack is given at midday. Make sure all your officers are thoroughly briefed on the attack, and try to get some sleep, if you can.’ Harris gave them a wry grin, and then gestured towards the tent flap. His officers rose from their chairs and filed out.
‘Wellesley?’
Arthur turned back. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘A word, if you please.’
Once the last of the other officers had quit the tent Harris spoke. ‘I have good reasons for assigning you to command the reserve.’
‘I’m sure you do, sir.’
Harris looked at him sharply. ‘Don’t try to be ironic, Colonel. It doesn’t become a senior officer in my army.’
‘No, sir.’
Harris sighed. ‘The fact of the matter is that I need an officer with sound judgement to command the reserve. The assault column is a different matter. Baird is a born fighter and he wants revenge for the years he spent chained in the dungeons of Seringapatam. Who better to command the attack?’
‘Baird’s the man right enough, sir. But why am I to be denied my place at the head of the 33rd?’
‘If the attack goes badly I’ll need you to retrieve the situation. And if the attack fails, then it is vital that a path is kept open through which Baird and his men can retreat. That is why you are the best man to command the reserve, just as Baird is the best man to lead the attack.’
Arthur’s heart was warmed by his superior’s praise. ‘I apologise, sir. I should not have questioned your orders.’
‘No. You shouldn’t. Besides, there is another reason for keeping you out of the assault column.’
‘Sir?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough, assuming that we defeat Tipoo tomorrow.’
The last men of the assault columns were in position shortly before dawn rose across the lush green landscape surrounding Seringapatam. They carried only their muskets and a haversack for their cartridges to ensure that they were not encumbered as they negotiated the rubble that sloped up to the breach. As soon as they were in place, their officers ordered them to sit down and stay still. The sun rose up out of the light haze that hung over the verdant landscape, but as soon as it was high enough for the warmth of its rays to be felt the temperature rose quickly.Within an hour the men in the trenches, huddled together, began to stew in the heat of the Indian day. Around them, in view of the enemy, the engineers began work on a new battery close to the river’s edge in an attempt to mislead Tipoo about the imminence of an attack. The siege guns continued a monotonous bombardment of a section of the wall some distance upriver of the breach, while a handful of sepoy pickets patrolled the banks of the south Cauvery to discourage any attempt by the enemy to probe the lines of General Harris’s army.
Just after eleven in the morning Arthur made his way forward. He found Baird with the men of the ‘forlorn hope’: a handful of volunteers led by a sergeant whose task it was to rush the breach and hold it long enough for the main column to advance through the gap. Baird had brought a jug of arrack with him and it was being passed around the men as Arthur squatted down beside the massive Scottish officer. Baird eyed him suspiciously as they exchanged a quick salute.
‘What can I do for you, young Wellesley?’
Arthur stiffened slightly at being addressed in this manner, but then held out his hand. ‘I came to wish you good luck, sir.’
‘Good luck, eh?’ Baird nodded, then took Arthur’s hand in his great fist and squeezed it firmly as he shook.‘That’s damn good of you. Thank you. Here, Sergeant Graham, give me that jug.’
‘I’ll not be Sergeant for much longer, sir!’ the man grinned as he handed the arrack back to his commander, and patted the standard resting across his knees. ‘It’s Lieutenant Graham, the moment I plant this in the breach.’
Baird smiled. ‘Och, you’ll be dead before you even make the breach, you bloody fool.’
The men of the forlorn hope laughed nervously and Baird passed the jug to Arthur. ‘Have a drink, Wellesley.’
Arthur was about to refuse. He was tired, he had a headache and the last thing he wanted was any drink to cloud his mind. Then he looked at the men sitting round him and watching his reaction. Most of them were as good as dead, he realised with a stab of pity. So he made himself smile, as he instinctively wiped the rim of the jug on his sleeve and raised it.
‘Your health, gentlemen!’ He nodded and then took a steady draught of the fiery liquid before lowering the jug and handing it back to Baird. The Scot gave him a hearty wink and took a gulp before passing the jug on. ‘I’ll try to save a few of Tipoo’s men for you, Wellesley.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind?’ Arthur grinned for a moment, then his expression became serious again. ‘Good luck then, sir.’
‘Aye.’ Baird was reflective for a brief moment. ‘We’ll need it sure enough.’
Arthur returned to his command post. Behind him, over four thousand men in the reserve column were crouched in the sweltering discomfort of the rear trenches. He pulled out his fob watch and dabbed his brow on the back of his sleeve. It was almost time. The siege guns continued their relentless pounding and all seemed quite still on the walls of Seringapatam. Only a handful of tiny figures were in view on the ramparts, keeping watch on the English forces.
As the hands of his watch closed together at noon there came the shrill call of a whistle and at once a wave of redcoats erupted from the forward trenches, as if they were bursting up from the very earth itself. The men of the forlorn hope dashed forward behind Sergeant Graham as he held the rippling standard aloft, then they surged across the shallow current of the south Cauvery and up the far bank, dripping and glistening as they sprinted towards the ragged gap in the city wall.
The main column had swiftly formed up in companies, and rippled forward across the river as the first of the defenders to appear on the walls began to fire on the attackers. Arthur saw Sergeant Graham clamber on to the highest point of the rubble piled in the breach. He thrust the standard down and beckoned to his men, and then lurched to one side and collapsed. The standard slowly began to topple, before one of the men of the forlorn hope snatched at it and held it up. Beyond the wall, Arthur glimpsed scores of men in flowing white tunics armed with muskets scrambling up to the crest of the debris, and a vicious and unequal struggle began.
Already, Baird and his first company were emerging from the river and surging up into the breach. Arthur caught a brief glimpse of the Scot, swinging his claymore, before he disappeared beyond the wall, closely followed by his men. Not a single enemy soldier still lived in the breach or on the ramparts immediately either side of it. Redcoats appeared on the battlements, fanning out to the left and right and charging into the dense ranks of the defenders who were only now spilling out of the bastions further along the wall. For an instant Arthur could not help but envy those who were storming the Tipoo’s defences.All the months of painstaking preparation, long marches across inhospitable country and the back-breaking labour of trench-digging would be forgotten amid the explosive exhilaration of being part of that wild attack.
Arthur stared towards the trenches.The last of Baird’s men had cleared the near bank and there was no chance now of confusing the columns. He cleared his throat and shouted the order. ‘The reserve will advance!’
Sergeants relayed the order and the sepoy battalions and the Swiss de Meuron regiment of mercenaries that fought for the Company clambered out, grateful to quit the fetid misery of the trenches. As soon as the reserve was formed up Arthur led them down to the river and they waded across, muskets held high as the slack water eddied about their waists. On the far bank they halted in front of the wall to await further orders while Arthur went ahead with his aide, Fitzroy, and the grenadier company from the Swiss regiment. The rubble was loose beneath their boots and Arthur had to use a hand on the masonry to steady himself as he made his way up into the breach. The crest and reverse slope were covered with bodies, mostly Tipoo’s men, taken with the bayonet or shot down at poin
t-blank range. Sergeant Graham lay sprawled on his back, slack-jawed, staring lifelessly towards the heavens. Gunfire crackled on either side and Arthur could see distant figures fighting at close quarters for possession of the bastions and towers along the wall.Ahead of him the streets of Seringapatam were silent and still as its people took shelter in their homes and prayed to their gods for deliverance, or mercy.
The two men climbed the nearest steps on to the wall to gain a better view of the fighting. Away to the north, the action seemed concentrated around the water gate on the wall that looked out over the main channel of the Cauvery. In the other direction, Arthur could already see a swarm of redcoats surging towards the Mysore gate.
‘Looks like Tipoo’s men are on the run,’ Fitzroy said as he shaded his eyes, squinting in the same direction as Arthur.
‘It looks that way,’ Arthur conceded after a moment.‘In which case, we must take measures to ensure that the slaughter doesn’t get out of hand. Go down to the reserve and order the sepoys to stand down. They are not to be allowed to enter the city.’
Fitzroy raised his eyebrows.‘They’re not going to like that, sir. You know the rules of war. The place has been taken by assault. By rights they should have a free hand.’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ Arthur replied firmly. ‘Tipoo’s people had nothing to do with his decision to wage war on us. They are not going to share his fate.And I am certainly not going to throw them on the mercy of Madras sepoys. I want the de Meuron regiment drawn up in front of the breach. They are not to let any soldiers into the city. Clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Fitzroy saluted and climbed down from the wall to relay Arthur’s orders. Meanwhile Arthur stared out over the city. The sound of gunfire was already fading away, apart from occasional bursts as the attackers discovered a few remaining pockets of Tipoo’s men. Rising above the city was the palace and Arthur realised that if the ruler of Seringapatam could be found and persuaded to surrender, then the city might yet be spared the worst ravages of defeat. Otherwise, the marauding bands of redcoats would unerringly find their way to stores of drink and then, fuelled by arrack and the fire in their blood, they would carry murder, destruction and rape to every corner of the city.
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