A Parade Of Virtue (A Poor Man At The Gate Series Book 9)
Page 18
“What would be an appropriate number, bearing in mind your knowledge of local conditions, Patel?”
“Eight must be on duty at all times, sahib. You will wish to have three times that number available to your need, sir. The best would be for you to have a platoon to live at your bungalow in Bombay and another of the same size to keep your residence in the princely state. For travelling from one location to the other, sahib, a troop of cavalry, such as I am also able to discover for you, in very quick time.”
It occurred to Wolverstone that if he died then Patel would find his position uncertain, and far less lucrative. He had an interest in ensuring that only the best guards protected his master.
“That is very good of you, Patel. Please to make all of the arrangements for me.”
“Forty-eight of Nubians and sixteen of sowars, sahib. Within one week, sir, upon my life!”
That could well be a literal statement; it was amusing to reflect that by making Patel potentially rich he had taken away his freedom, made him absolutely dependent on his master’s well-being.
The bodyguards came with their muskets, as specified, and with a fearsome collection of personal weapons as well – spears, short swords and pistols bristling in fierce array. To Wolverstone’s surprise, they were of various ages; he had expected them all to be young, the products of a slave raid on a single village, but they ranged from earliest manhood to balding forty year old. The Nubians were led by an obvious sergeant-major, born into the rank and habit, and their sole spokesman; he saluted and announced himself.
“Mehmet Ali, sahib. I have two corporals, sahib, each of whom can understand your speech, though themselves to say little.”
“Two detachments, Mehmet Ali, one is to hold in Bombay, the other to accompany me to my quarters near Walgaon. When I am present there will be eight men on duty at all times. I presume you will wish to accompany me wherever I am. You have been a soldier, a sepoy, perhaps?”
Not a sepoy, nor yet a soldier, as such, but he and many of the others had served as guards on ships sailing on the pilgrim run up to the Red Sea, and to various other places. He, as well, had had the privilege of campaigning as an irregular during the Maratha Wars, when a number of battalions of infantry had been specially recruited by the Company.
He was clearly competent and experienced in his trade and Major Wolverstone had no qualms in accepting him.
“I am glad to have you to work for me, Mehmet Ali. You will take orders from me, of course, but you will be in charge of the guard as their officer.”
It seemed satisfactory; Wolverstone went in search of explanations from Patel.
“’Mehmet Ali’: that is a Muslim name, is it not, Patel?”
“He is a foreigner, sahib, and not a Moghul by parentage. He can, sahib, be anything that he may wish in such case.”
Wolverstone could see, to an extent, the relevance of the fact – there were Muslim invaders, and there were Muslims, and the two need not be synonymous.
“Now then, Patel, what of his place in the firm? Is he a paid employee? Does he receive a wage?”
That was not so easily explained.
“The firm of Bensons, sahib, has bought up the debts owed by the whole company of Nubians. Each is, of course, a paid servant of the firm, but his wages are applied to the reductions of his debt. All receive rations of food, and their clothing and firewood and housing, the cost of which is added to the amounts they already owe. They are permitted to take women and most have children of their own, who also are given rations, against their cost, of course.”
“Are their debts becoming less each year? Or is it probable that they will never be paid off?”
Patel shrugged, that was a very difficult question to answer, and one with which he had not, in fact, concerned himself.
“I am to be Trustee to the young rajah for some ten years, Patel. When he reaches his majority then he will no longer require my services, and I will have less need, I hope for a large bodyguard. The debt owed by each of the Nubians will become less by one tenth each year, and will be nothing by the end of the period. That is an order, Patel. I will not be a slave-holder, and nor will Bensons act for me as such.”
“What will they do, sahib, when they are free? Who will they work for?”
“That will be dealt with closer to the day. I cannot imagine that India will suddenly become a place of peace and harmony; there will be a need for armed men.”
Patel accepted the truth of that. It would be possible to arrange something, and there would, with a little of ingenuity, be no great need for the Major, who was a very good man, to be made aware of all of the details.
“What of the horsemen, the sowars, Patel?”
“All are good Hindus, sahib, of respectable caste.”
Wolverstone remembered Patel’s definition of the ‘good Hindu’ and immediately suspected that a very few weeks before they had been Maratha raiders, part of the horde he had helped to destroy.
“Is it not possible that they might have a grudge against me, Patel?”
“No greater than that which they hold against any others of the English who have come here, sahib. They will earn their wages, and guard your back at all times, sahib. They are well paid, and will be able to keep their families and in a short time will bring their parents to live in their quarters, thus to protect them in their old age as is a very virtuous thing to do. No doubt many will have brothers who can work the family field in place of the old people, and who will not need to borrow from the money-lenders and will be able to buy a little more land, to the great benefitting of the whole family. You may offer trust to them, sahib.”
It had not occurred to Wolverstone that the Indians resented the presence of the English; everyone knew that the ordinary chaps were far better off for having the privilege of rule by Christian masters.
“Let them be told, Patel, that at the end of each year in which they have kept me safe they will be given a gift of cash, a reward for their fine service.”
Patel thought that was a very sensible idea – they could only get the money if the Major was alive and well, so any enemy who tried to bribe them would have to pay a very large sum indeed.
The palace, a few miles up in the coastal hills to the north west of the town, was old and strong, more of a fort than a simple residence. The walls were stone and too high simply to be stormed – an attacker would have to emplace cannon or attempt to starve the garrison out.
Wolverstone inspected the gates and the visible ramparts, counted the muzzles of a dozen bronze cannon, assumed there would be others out of sight.
“Mostly small guns, Mehmet Ali, but the two pointing directly down the road are of large calibre. They are siege guns, I would think, thirty-pounders or thereabouts, and capable of destroying batteries emplaced by an attacker. They must control the whole roadway.”
“Loaded with grapeshot, sahib, and we would not enter their gates at all. I can see no smokes, do not think the gunners have their fuses lit ready to fire.”
Wolverstone hoped he was right.
The little cavalcade marched forward, openly, muskets at the trail and showing no signs of fear or aggression. Wolverstone rode at the head, followed by the Nubians and then his household – fifty or so of cooks and grooms and personal servants on donkeys and leading bullock carts, their own families tagging on behind. His cavalry brought up the rear, their job to prevent straggling and keep a careful eye out for bandits.
The gates were open and there was no sign of hostility. As they passed inside a welcoming party came out of the residential quarters to greet them.
Behind the wall was much more comfortable, a compound containing a true palace such as Wolverstone had seen in Bombay itself and a large number, a village in itself, of huts and bungalows of various sizes and comfort for the many grades of servants.
The residence showed much of marble and rich decoration, evidence that a wealthy ruling family had lived very comfortably there for many generations.
There had been the risk that he might have provoked one of the boy rajah’s sisters into killing him immediately and taking power herself, or that a usurper might have tried to kill all of the family and present him with a new dynasty in control of an orderly little state. A peaceful, routine performance of an essentially administrative procedure would, however, show confidence and reduce, they hoped, the possibility of disorder.
The Governor was within reason confident, though accepting that there might be trouble.
“The merchants tell me that there has been no trade in gemstones in the last three months, Major Wolverstone. One trusts this does not mean that some of the family have pocketed all they can and fled, or that a general has looted the mines and taken himself and his army elsewhere.”
A rich general with two or three well-disciplined battalions at his heels could make a thorough nuisance of himself if he marched out of the area of the Company’s direct rule, possibly taking over a small state and triggering a chain of minor wars throughout half of the subcontinent.
“The probability is that they will all have decided that the risks are a little too great. The cholera will have had its effects, probably reducing the numbers of their army, and they will have assessed our immediate response to the raiders. If they take a course of action which could be interpreted as inimical to our interests then they may expect to see a Company army beating on their doors. It will, I suspect, Major Wolverstone, seem safer to them to make you welcome.”
Whilst agreeing, generally, with the Governor’s summary, Wolverstone was uncomfortably aware that he would be the first to discover if the assessment was incorrect. He dismounted confidently, waited to be introduced to the three men facing him.
They were richly dressed, silks and diamonds sufficient to state high rank. There were large retinues of servants wandering around behind them, again a sign that these were important men. He had not been fobbed off with underlings; there was no insult in this greeting.
All three spoke fluent English, easy in the language. The Company had been present for many years and it was reasonable that they should have familiarised themselves with the tongue of the current masters of their land. Aware now that many of the Indians resented the presence of the English, Wolverstone wondered just how much bitterness it caused them to be forced to use the foreigners’ speech in their own home place. The alternative was that he should learn their language, and that would be far too much bother for him to go to – they would just have to put up with it.
They introduced themselves by their function, not by name, translating into the British equivalents – a Chancellor, in charge of financial affairs; a Judge, obviously the master of the laws; a General, though he said that ‘brigadier’ might be a better term.
Wolverstone would have been happier if they had offered their names, but accepted they had no desire to make him feel comfortable. He had been wished upon them and they had no choice other than to accept him, and for their own safety they must cooperate enthusiastically – but there was no need to offer any pretence of liking.
“The young rajah-to-be awaits you in the throne room, Major Wolverstone, sahib. If it is your wish, then you could greet him now while your people are directed to their places in the compound. You have been granted the privilege of accommodation in that part of the palace that previously housed the brother of the old rajah. He, with many another, died in the sickness that was sent upon us.”
The Chancellor’s speech was precise, his command of the language probably academically superior to Wolverstone’s.
“You speak English very well, sir. Has the young rajah the benefit of similar tuition?”
“The very same gentleman, who has been in the employ of the palace for nearly thirty years.”
The Governor had been unaware of that, had been quite certain that there was no other Englishman in the little state.
“Mr Arkenshawe left England many years ago, one understands, Major Wolverstone, having been employed for a short time as a teacher in a large and prominent school. Why he left has never been vouchsafed to us, but he was brought here from Bombay where he had found no great welcome, it would seem.”
Wolverstone could make an informed guess as to the circumstances under which the young gentleman had fled the country – but that was all long past, after all.
The boy rajah was dressed appropriately to his position, silken robes carefully arranged about him. He looked uncomfortable. Two young women, grown-up girls, stood before his high seat, three steps below him and to the side in precise inferiority.
Wolverstone paced forward and made his bow, much as he would have at court in England – the forms of courtesy were important, he believed. As well, if he showed disrespect to the boy then the example would quickly be followed, and he was sitting in a dangerous enough place already. Ten years of minority was reason to replace the lad with a man who could reassert their freedoms from the invaders, and Wolverstone must take care to strengthen him.
“You are very welcome here, Major. I must thank your king for sending you here to be my protector.”
The boy, a small six year old, made his little speech confidently, without any stumble over the words. He was obviously bright enough, and well coached.
“I am pleased to have the opportunity to be of service to Your Highness.”
That brought formalities to an end, Wolverstone withdrawing from the presence without further conversation. The young ladies, presumably the sisters, were not introduced, though he did notice both to be well-built and attractively presented.
Wolverstone was escorted to his quarters – large, airy and very comfortable, brightly decorated with costly wall-hangings and full of servants, his own and those belonging to the palace. He was shown a large work room, an audience chamber in effect, some forty feet on a side and containing a raised and ornate chair, not quite a throne, in front of a square of Persian carpet, and a pair of desks to the side.
The Chancellor stood in front of him, ready to commence business. He was not a young man and it seemed a courtesy to invite him to sit across a desk from him; caution made Wolverstone let him stand – it would be better to establish superiority.
“There is a written report, Major Wolverstone, relating the financial details of our princedom. In brief, sahib, there is an income from taxation and the rajah’s share of all gemstones discovered which has enabled a small army to be maintained and for the roads to be kept in good repair. There has been a surplus each year, which is held, naturally, in the Treasury, in gold coinage more than in stones.”
“Are you familiar with the concept of banking, Chancellor?”
He was, knew all about the theory of Western finance. The Chancellor had pride in informing him that he had read ‘The Wealth of Nations’, something that Wolverstone had not achieved.
“It would be sensible then to place much of the gold coin from the Treasury on deposit with a bank that would pay interest each year.”
It would, certainly, provided only that a trustworthy institution might be discovered. With all respect to the Honourable Company, there was a certain history of rapacity that made the Chancellor rather unwilling to make any deposits with them.
“The bank of Mostyns is entirely independent of the Company, and has a most respectable name and history. Deposits made with them would be wholly secure from confiscation and, importantly, would be safe. A usurper would be unable to access monies held in Bombay, whilst to take the Treasury here must be an easier task. The young rajah would sit much easier in his t
hrone in such a circumstance.”
As well, if the young boy was forced to flee, in company with his senior officials, there would be a very comfortable future assured for them.
“In whose name would the deposits be held, Major Wolverstone?”
“I had not considered that point, Chancellor. I would think that the best would be to put them to the account of the Rajah of Amravati. If the deposits were to be made on a long-term basis, say ten years, then there would be no need to associate the name of the Trustee with them.”
Quick discussion established that the young Rajah would not be able to access the sums deposited until he was of age, but neither would Major Wolverstone, or any successor as trustee, be able to withdraw them.
“And, should the young man be forced to flee to Bombay, what then, Major Wolverstone?”
“Then he could borrow against their security – Mostyns would have no difficulty in that, I am quite certain.”
It was agreed, the transfer to take place at an early stage, none other to be informed of the arrangement so that it could not be the cause of a coup by the disaffected or greedy.
“The General, who is wholly trustworthy, I am sure, will escort the bullion to the border of Amravati, Major Wolverstone. What then?”
“Give me four days, Chancellor.”
The Poona Horse left their barracks on receipt of the message from their recent colonel, made camp on the road at the border, or where they thought it might well be, there being no such things as Customs Posts or Border Guards in existence.
Four bullock carts entered the gates at dawn on the appointed day and the doors to the Treasury were thrown open, a train of labourers filing inside, guarded by every soldier in the fortress. Major Wolverstone was admitted for the first time, watched open-mouthed as chest after chest of gold coin was opened and the contents were shovelled into strong canvas bags and then hauled out to the carts.