Zemindar

by Valerie Fitzgerald

  ‘Well, we met him. In the old days. A small man with pudgy hands, I remember. Very correct in his dress. Not much like an Eastern prince, I can assure you.’

  ‘Rather like Wajid Khan, in fact?’

  ‘Precisely. Westernized, that’s what he was. Though, mind you, they said even then that he was secretly very bitter because Lord Dalhousie denied him the throne and the pension of the Peshwa of Poonah on the grounds that he was only an adopted son. Adoption has always been a recognized method of succession in India, so of course it must have seemed to him that Calcutta was merely using it as an excuse to annex his lands. I own it would have looked that way to me, particularly if I had never been anything but a model retainer to the government and not even extravagant or profligate as the Oudh people were. Sure, and we do make such blunders out here. And yet, Cawnpore was such a pleasant place in the cold weather. As Lucknow used to be.’

  ‘Do you think … could it be possible that Oliver is somehow cut off in Cawnpore? So that he can’t get away again? Would that be why he isn’t here, Kate?’

  ‘I don’t know, woman dear. But it might be indeed. Perhaps he joined General Wheeler …’

  ‘Oliver throw in his lot with the military? Never!’

  ‘But he might have had to, y’know. However little he liked it,’ said Kate drily. ‘We can’t be sure that he had any alternative.’

  ‘In that case, then, he is now a prisoner of the Nana’s?’

  ‘Most probably.’

  ‘Well, it would explain why he isn’t here, I suppose. And if I could be sure that was the explanation, I wouldn’t worry about him.’

  ‘Why ever not, and the poor fellow cooped up in some smelly native gaol?’

  ‘Because if he’s not dead, you can take it from me that he’s not uncomfortable either. I never knew a man more able to take care of himself.’

  ‘Well, sure, and what a lot of thought you have given to his character,’ Kate said slyly. ‘I must hope that your idea is correct, m’dear. I would far sooner imagine Oliver comfortable than dead, and I know you’ll agree with me.’

  ‘Well, yes. But Kate, we can’t be sure, can we? That he isn’t dead, I mean?’

  ‘I think it unlikely. You have just said yourself that you never knew any man more capable of looking after himself. I agree with you entirely, and I’m willing to wager that in a couple of weeks’ time when this is all over, he will stroll in quite unconcerned about the lot of us, and never guessing for a moment what an amount of anxiety he has caused.’

  ‘Oh well, I wouldn’t say I’m anxious really. But of course, one must be concerned, and he was a very attentive host to all of us, was he not?’

  ‘He was that!’

  ‘So naturally I would like to know he is safe, as would we all.’

  ‘Oh, naturally!’ Kate agreed.

  There was a deliberately vague expression in the eyes that met mine, and I looked away hastily, confused by Kate’s percipience, and in doing so caught sight of a familiar figure, half-obscured by a large black umbrella, picking its way through the debris below us.

  ‘Kate, look! There’s Mr Roberts … Mr Roberts,’ I called, ‘Mr Roberts—up here!’

  Mr Roberts cast a startled glance upward, then waved his open umbrella and scrambled up the rubble of the glacis to us.

  ‘Miss Laura! But how nice—and yet, no, how sad!’ He laid aside his umbrella and took my hand in both his own. ‘I know you won’t misunderstand me, and truly I am delighted to see you again, but in these circumstances,’ he nodded at the guns, ‘it is a pleasure that I would have deferred. And is it not an irony, Miss Laura, that it should be the fulfilment of my forebodings, those “croakings” which our mutual friends in Calcutta so much derided, that should serve to bring our paths together again? I caught a glimpse of Mr Flood last night, and guessed that Hassanganj must have met the fate of so many other places.’

  We exchanged truncated versions of our adventures. Mr Roberts had been pursuing his business in Lucknow when word had come that Agra and Allahabad had fallen. Since his trade depended on the river, and the river was now, if not in enemy hands, at least untenable for trade, he had seen no option but to enter the Residency with other tradesmen and businessmen of Lucknow. ‘But I am a man of peace, Miss Laura, and I must confess that I am ill at ease in all these martial preparations and rumours of war. To say nothing of the discomforts, which, if my findings are correct, are going to increase before they decrease or disappear. Do you know,’ he nodded his head with great solemnity to mark his point, ‘the situation is absurd, quite absurd! We are almost entirely unprepared for the situation the military gentlemen consider will develop. Look around you, Miss Laura—Mrs Barry! Can even you believe that these … these piffling precautions are going to keep at bay a large, well-armed and, it appears, most earnest enemy? For more than a few hours at most?’

  As much the same conclusion had already entered my mind, I could not disagree with him, but Kate objected mildly.

  ‘Sir Henry has been doing his best to fortify this position and provision it adequately for weeks past, Mr Roberts. It is not his fault that matters have come to a head so quickly. I am told he has expected something like this ever since he arrived in Lucknow, but he was reluctant to let the natives know of his suspicions until there could be no further doubt. He took a risk, but surely a necessary and well-considered one? Our preparations may look sketchy, but they are as much as anyone could do in the time. And perhaps you forget, we are not dependent solely on the fortifications, such as they are. We have plenty of artillery and a fine force of fighting men—and the mutineers are leaderless. George says that that will prove the most important factor in our defence, and that, without their white officers, the pandies will accomplish little.’

  ‘As little as they have already accomplished in Meerut and Delhi—and now Cawnpore? That little will be enough to see us all with our throats cut, Mrs Barry, if you will pardon my saying so!’

  ‘In Meerut and Delhi we were surprised, and in Cawnpore obviously overwhelmed by superior numbers … But here we know pretty well what to expect, and there is no man in this place, bar, perhaps, Mr Gubbins, who does not accept Sir Henry’s judgement of the situation. Not a man who does not believe that we can hold out against the pandies until help arrives, as it must do very soon.’

  ‘I can only hope so, Mrs Barry! For I have been making a few enquiries about our numbers and so forth, and I have no hesitation in saying that I am most alarmed.

  ‘Colonel Inglis, of the 32nd, you know, was kind enough to ask me to dine with him last night. A very helpful man; very informative. Now, including the civilian volunteers and the Eurasian drummers, there are just over seventeen hundred men in this entrenchment capable of firing a gun. That is, of Christians, the men of the 32nd Foot, the fifty men of the 84th whom the unfortunate General Wheeler sent to our assistance from Cawnpore, the officers of various mutinied regiments and, as I say, of volunteers like Mr Flood and myself there are about one thousand. The other seven hundred are sepoys, and the Sikhs among them are widely believed to be—well, let me say ambivalent in their loyalties. Then there is the labour force, all these hordes of coolies, gardeners, syces and servants whom you see below us. I would estimate there are between seven and nine hundred of them, all with mouths to feed though they bear no arms. Lastly and most important there are just about six hundred women and children.’

  ‘And so … ?’ said Kate.

  ‘These … these ludicrous walls, Mrs Barry, surround about thirty-three acres of ground and extend to rather more than 2,000 yards in length. On one side we are wide open to the river and for the rest—well, you can see for yourself how closely the buildings outside threaten us. I dare say they are no more than a couple of dozen yards away in many places and closer in some. Nor is the fact that 2,000 yards of perimeter are to be defended by fewer than seventeen hundred men the worst of our misfortunes. The fact is, Mrs Barry, that we are going to be starved to death if not killed outrigh
t. I cannot by any means ascertain that we have provisions sufficient for more than ten days to a fortnight!’

  ‘I cannot contradict you, Mr Roberts,’ said Kate, since it was obvious that he was now awaiting comment. ‘I only wish I could. I am sure your facts are incontrovertible. However, while I am an old campaigner and fairly used to contemplating disaster of one form or another, it is not quite kind of you to draw Miss Hewitt’s attention so explicitly to our situation. There are many imponderables which cannot show in your accounting, to begin with, and which therefore render your sum incorrect, I firmly believe! True, we are too few. But we are well equipped. True, our walls are flimsy, but my spirit, at all events, is stout. And I know I am not alone in having full confidence in Sir Henry. Above all, there is still time. After today’s engagement it may well be that we can forget the whole threat of a siege or leaguer, or whatever you choose to call it …’

  ‘To my mind, it can be called nothing more heroic than a blockade. And that will be bad enough when we are all starving!’

  ‘Really, Mr Roberts!’ said Kate impatiently. ‘You are lacking in all tact! And in common sense. Gloom always invites disaster!’

  ‘Perhaps. I prefer to face facts, and as to tact, my dear good lady, this is no time for tact, I do assure you. Miss Laura and I are old friends—indeed, I think I may say familiar companions—and I believe I know her character well enough to think she would prefer to have the facts than facile reassurances. Miss Laura is very far from being a frivolous girl; she is a most sensible young woman.’

  He meant to pay me a compliment, but, as always, this too-often reiterated summation of my prosaic personality had the effect of chilling my heart. Why did no one ever see that I was other things as well as sensible? Not that I was unduly alarmed by Mr Roberts’s statistics; figures never made much impact on me, and I was inclined to think that the studies of my dear Mr Roberts—so correct, so dependable, so anxious to learn as well as to teach—were motivated as much by unfamiliar alarm as by expected curiosity.

  There was no need to take his prognostications too seriously, I felt, and, after some further debate, the heat, the dust and the noise drove all three of us indoors.

  CHAPTER 5

  I persuaded Kate to share our midday rations with us for George’s safety must continually have been in the forefront of her mind, so we returned to the Gaol together, joking rather unkindly about Mr Roberts’s old-maidish alarms. Pearl had been fractious and Emily was consequently ill-tempered. Charles, having soaked his feet in cold water and salt, was just easing them back into his boots, when we entered the kitchen. I set to work immediately to produce something to eat, for Charles had been assigned to the battery in Dr Fayrer’s post, and was to report back as soon as possible. Toddy-Bob, whose rations I had cooked along with ours, did not appear, so we sat down without him.

  I thought it was the time-gun that in military stations is fired at midday and automatically my hand went to the fob-pocket at my waist to check my watch. But before I could take it out, the thunder of the gun was followed by a sharp, hysterical crackle of musket fire. For a moment, we sat immobile, our eyes questioning each other’s. Then Charles jumped to his feet.

  ‘It’s come!’ he shouted in a high, unfamiliar voice, and, as we stumbled to our feet, he grabbed his rifle, slung his ammunition pouch over his shoulder, and rushed outside, with me close behind him.

  The heavy somnolence of the afternoon was shattered by more than the firing. As I and many another ran out into the savage sunlight, pandemonium broke loose: every coolie, tally-clerk and servant in the enclosure gave vent simultaneously to yells and wails of distracted panic, dropped whatever they were doing and made for shelter. The tide of non-combatants running for cover was met at every door and gateway by soldiers and sepoys, still shrugging into jackets and buckling on belts, intent on reaching their posts. There were shouts of ‘Stand to your arms,’ ‘Attack! An attack!’ Women screamed and children cried … and the chatter of the guns gained strength.

  ‘Come back, Laura! Come back! At least put on a hat,’ called Kate with inspired irrelevance. She stood on the verandah, with Emily’s scared face peering over her shoulder. Charles, shoving his way through the running, yelling crowd, had soon disappeared, and, suddenly realizing my own stupidity in following him, I returned sheepishly to the verandah.

  ‘What is it?’ Emily asked in bewilderment. ‘Are we being attacked, Laura?’ As though I were in a position to know more than her.

  ‘Yes, yes, it’s an attack,’ said Kate soothingly, ‘but it’s only a warning. Nothing more, so don’t be alarmed. We’ve had several of these skirmishes, but no one has ever been hurt, in spite of the noise. I do wish the coolies wouldn’t howl so. Most unnerving! George says the pandies probably just want us to know they really have the ammunition for the guns. Come in now, girls, and finish your meal. We don’t have to starve yet.’

  Her calm, even amused tone of voice reassured us, and we sat down to our abandoned plates. But the food stuck in my throat and my stomach and chest felt constricted. In spite of the heat my hands were cold.

  We were under fire—yet only a short time ago I had thought that only soldiers could know that experience.

  Emily had no more success in swallowing than I.

  ‘Oh, where can Charles have gone to?’ she said after a time, pushing away her untouched plate with a gesture of distaste. ‘Surely he should be back by now? You’d think he’d have more consideration for me. For all of us.’

  ‘But he is considering us, m’dear,’ said Kate mildly. ‘He’s at his post—where he should be, and where he must remain until the alarm is over and he is no longer needed.’

  ‘But Kate, we are being attacked!’ objected my cousin. ‘Surely they can’t expect him to stay away when we are in danger. His place is with me. I need him. I … I’m frightened.’ And she began to cry with her blue eyes wide open, the tears cascading down her pale face unheeded, as she looked for assurance from Kate to me.

  I went over to her and hugged her shoulders.

  ‘There there, Emmie,’ I comforted. ‘We’re not really in any danger, and you wouldn’t want Charles to do less than any of the other gentlemen after all, would you?’

  ‘Yes, I would!’ she gasped between sobs. ‘I want him with me. I have a right to want him here, and his place is here. I know you don’t understand, Laura, but I’m his wife, and so I’m his first responsibility, don’t you see? Not some wretched gun!’

  ‘But, Emmie, every other man in the place is at his post, and most of them have wives too. And just think of George …’

  ‘No! Why should I? George is different. He’s a soldier and it’s his job to fight, but Charles isn’t; he’s just a … a visitor, and they have no right to keep him away from me.’

  ‘Oh, Emmie! We can none of us think like that any longer, don’t you see? We are all in this … this trouble together; we all have to play a part …’

  ‘Stop fussing over her, Laura!’

  Kate stood up and wagged a finger at Emily across the width of the table. Her blue eyes were cold and hard.

  ‘Now listen to me, my girl,’ she said, addressing Emily. ‘This is no charade we’re acting, and if you think it’s bad now, just wait until they really start to batter us from across the wall! I don’t like it any more than you do. I don’t like the guns, the noise, the way we have to live, but believe me, neither do the men. And the fact that we women are here makes it all ten times worse for them. The only thing we can do, the only thing we are asked to do, is stay quiet and keep out of their way. Fussing and crying and behaving like a spoiled child, as you are doing, is the best way of getting your Charles hurt, perhaps even killed. Yes, I mean killed! If he has you on his mind, don’t you see, if he has to worry about you because you’re too silly to put a good face on it and hide your fear, he’ll get careless about his own safety. Believe me, we’re all going to need our wits about us to come through this at all. Anxiety, lack of concentration, make a m
an take foolish risks, and foolish risks mean early death!’

  She paused for breath.

  ‘Do you understand me, Emily? Do you see why you must take a hold of yourself and not behave like this in front of Charles?’

  ‘I suppose so. But I still think it’s not right that he should be away from me.’

  ‘That’s as may be; but, for his sake, keep your thoughts to yourself. Pull yourself together and let’s have no more tears. Now come on! Be a good creature and mop up. Tears always upset me.’

  Emily did as she was told, but reluctantly. I could not escape the realization that she had wanted Charles to come back to the safety of the Gaol for her own sake, not for his.

  All afternoon the firing continued: ragged musket and rifle fire interspersed now and then with the heavy roar of ball and shot. After a time, when no reports of disaster reached us, we settled down to it pretty well, only jumping when the large roundshot whirred laboriously through the hot air to fall through a roof or bring down the corner of a building.

  When Charles eventually limped back, his shirt dripping with sweat, he plunged his head into the basin of cold water, and then, as he rubbed his hair, informed us ruefully that he had been given the undramatic duty of seeing that the labour gang kept at their work of digging burial pits for animals. This was a formidable task, for there were scores of horses, camels, gunbullocks and elephants within the enclosure, and Sir Henry had directed that if our situation worsened, all surplus creatures were to be destroyed.

  ‘Quite apart from the work, there’s not enough room,’ Charles said, munching hungrily, for we had kept the meal he had not had time to eat. ‘And it’s damned difficult to keep those poor devils at it with the firing going on, to say nothing of the heat down there by the river. The ground’s like iron, in spite of last night’s rain.’

  ‘But then, what can be done with the animals, I mean?’ I asked.

  ‘Heaven knows! Even the river is too far, if we are closely invested, that is. For the moment, I must just keep the damn fellows digging for all they’re worth. By God, it’s hot down there! No shade and the ground reflects the heat; and the glare from the water is almost the worst.’