Chapter 23: In which there are many moving events; and our hero findshimself a cadet of John Company.
Diggle's escape passed unnoticed until it was too late to pursue him. Atthe sight of Toley and his messmates of the Hormuzzeer, Bulger had letfall his musket and dropped to the ground, where he sat mopping his faceand crying, "Go it, mateys!" Desmond felt a strange faintness, and leaneddizzily against one of the hackeris. But, revived by a draft from Mr.Toley's flask, he thanked the mate warmly, and wanted to hear how he hadcontrived to come up in time.
When Desmond's messenger arrived in Calcutta, Mr. Merriman was away upthe river, engaged in very serious business. The messenger had applied tothe governor, to members of the Council, to Captain Minchin and otherofficers, and the reply of one and all was the same: they could donothing; it was more important that every man should be employed instrengthening the defenses of Calcutta than in going upcountry on whatmight prove a vain and useless errand. But Toley happened to be in thetown, and learning of the difficulties and perils of his friend Burke,with the captain's consent he had hastily collected the crew of theHormuzzeer, that still lay off the fort, and led them, under the guidanceof the messenger, to support him. Meeting Surendra Nath, and learningfrom him that a fight was imminent, he had pushed on with all speed, theBabu leading the way.
"It was well done," said Desmond warmly. "We owe our lives to you, andMr. Merriman his goods. But what was the business that took Mr. Merrimanfrom Calcutta at this time of trouble?"
"Trouble of his own, Burke," said Mr. Toley. "I guess he'd better havelet the Nawab keep his goods and sent you to look after his womenfolk."
"What do you mean? I left the ladies at Khulna; what has happened tothem?"
"'Tis what Mr. Merriman would fain know. They've disappeared, gone cleanout of sight."
"But the peons?"
"Gone, too. Nothing heard or seen of them."
This serious news came as a shock to Desmond. If he had only known! Howwillingly he would have let Coja Solomon do what he pleased with thegoods, and hastened to the help of the wife and daughter Mr. Merrimanheld so dear! While in Cossimbazar, he had heard from Mr. Watts terriblestories of the Nawab's villainy, which no respect of persons held incheck. He feared that if Mrs. Merriman and Phyllis had indeed fallen intoSirajuddaula's hands, they were lost to their family and friends forever.
But, eager as he was to get back to Calcutta and join Mr. Merriman insearching for them, he had a strange certainty that it was not to be. Thefaintness that he had already felt returned. His head was burning andthrobbing; his ears buzzed; his limbs ached; his whole frame was seizedat moments with paroxysms of shivering which no effort could control.Unknown to himself the seeds of malarial fever had found a lodgment inhis system. While listening to Toley's story, he had reclined on theground. When he tried to rise, he was overcome by giddiness and nausea.
"I am done up," he continued. "Mr. Toley, you must take charge and getthese goods conveyed to Calcutta. Lose no time."
Surendra Nath recognized the symptoms of the disease, and immediately hada litter improvised for Desmond out of the linen covering of one of thecarts and a couple of muskets. Mr. Toley at once made preparations formoving on with the convoy. The hackeriwallahs who had driven off thecattle had not gone far; they had waited in the hope of getting thebakshish promised them--if not from the young sahib, at least from theleader of the attacking party, which from its numbers they believed wouldgain the day.
The oxen were soon yoked up. Mr. Toley would not wait to recover theloads of the carts that had toppled into the nullah, nor would he leavemen for that purpose, lest another attack should be made on them fromHugli. He set off as soon as the teams were ready. Half an hour afterthey started, Bulger, walking beside the litter, saw to his dismay thatDesmond had lost consciousness.
It was nearly a fortnight later when Desmond came to himself in his oldbunk on board the Hormuzzeer. He was alone. Lying on his back, feeblytrying to adjust his thoughts to his surroundings, he heard the faintboom of guns. What was happening? He tried to rise, but all power wasgone from him; he could hardly lift an arm. Even the slight effort wastoo much for him, and he swooned again.
When he once more recovered consciousness, he saw a figure by his side.It was Mr. Toley. Again the distant thunder of artillery fell upon hisears.
"What is happening?" he asked feebly.
"Almighty be praised!" said Toley fervently, "you're coming safe to port.Hush! Lie you still. You'll want nussin' like a babby. Never you heed thepopguns; I'll tell you all about them when you're stronger. Food, sleep,and air; that's my catechism, larned from the surgeon. Bless you, Burke,I feared you was a done man."
With this Desmond had to be for the time content. But every day he heardfiring, and every day, as he slowly regained strength, he became more andmore anxious to know what it meant. Toley seemed to have left the ship;Desmond was tended only by natives.
From them he learned that the Nawab was attacking Calcutta. How were thedefenders faring? They could not tell. He knew how small was thegarrison, how weak the fortifications; but, with an English lad'sunconquerable faith in his countrymen's valor, he could not believe thatthey could fail to hold their own.
One day, however, he heard no more firing. In the afternoon Mr. Toleycame to his bunk, bringing with him Mr. Merriman himself. The merchanthad his head bound up, and wore his left arm in a sling. He was pale,haggard, the shadow of his former self.
"What has happened, sir?" cried Desmond the instant he saw him. "Are theladies safe?"
"God pity us, Desmond! I shall never see them again. My poor Dora! mysweet Phyllis! They are lost! All is lost! The Nawab has taken the fort.We are beaten, shamed, ruined!"
"How did it happen? I heard the firing. Tell me; it can not be so bad asthat. Sure something can be done!"
"Nothing, nothing; we did all we could. 'Twas little; would that Drakehad heeded our advice! But I am rejoiced to see you on the road torecovery, dear boy; 'twould have been another nail in my coffin to knowthat you had lost your life in doing a service for me. I thank God forthat, from the bottom of my heart."
He pressed Desmond's hand affectionately.
"But tell me, sir; I want to know what has happened. How came you to bewounded? Sure I am strong enough to hear now; it will do me no harm."
"It cuts me to the heart, Desmond, but you shall know. I was absent whenyou were carried to my house--searching for my dear ones. But Dr. Graytended you; alas! the good man is now a prisoner. I returned three daysafter, driven back from up the river by the advance of the Nawab's army.I was worn out, distraught; not a trace had I found of my dear wife; shehad vanished; nor of my daughter; nor even of my peons; all had gone.
"And there was trouble enough in Calcutta for me and for all. 'Twas thevery day I returned that the news came of Sirajuddaula's approach. And aletter from his chief spy was intercepted, addressed to Omichand, biddinghim escape while there was yet time and join the Subah. That seemed toMr. Drake clear proof that Omichand was in league with our enemies, andhe had him arrested and thrown into the fort prison. But Mr. Drake neveracts till 'tis too late. He gave orders next to arrest Krishna Das. Theman barricaded himself in his house and beat our peons off, tillLieutenant Blagg and thirty Europeans drove in his gates. They found avast quantity of arms collected there. They stormed Omichand's housealso, where three hundred armed domestics made a stout fight against 'em.When our men got in--'tis a horrid story--the head jamadar with his ownhands stabbed all his master's women and children, to prevent em fallinginto our hands, and then set fire to the place.
"Our men had already been driven out of Tanna fort by Manik Chand, whohad come up with two thousand men and a couple of field pieces. Then cameup Mir Jafar, the Nawab's bakshi {commander in chief}, and began firingfrom the Chitpur gate. We got all our women into the fort; the poorcreatures left all they had but their clothes and their bedding. You mayguess the confusion. The natives were flocking out of the town; most ofour servants
fled with them; all our cooks were gone, so that though wehad a great stock of food we were like to starve in the midst of plenty.
"But we filled their places with some of the Portuguese who came crowdinginto the fort. Two thousand of 'em, men, women, and children, filled thecourtyard, sitting among their bundles of goods, so that we could scarcemove for 'em. The enemy was in the town; they had set light to the GreatBazaar, and were burning and plundering in the native parts. We fired thebastis to the east and south, to deprive 'em of cover; and you mayimagine the scene, Desmond--the blazing sky, the tears and screams of thewomen, the din of guns. We wrote to the French at Chandernagore begging'em to lend us some ammunition, for the most of ours was useless; butthey sent us a genteel reply saying they'd no more than sufficient fortheir own needs; yet the wretches made the Nawab a present of two hundredchests of powder, 'tis said.
"Next day we were besieged in earnest. The Nawab had, we learned, nighfifty thousand men, with one hundred and fifty elephants and camels, andtwo hundred and fifty Frenchmen working his artillery. Against 'em we hadabout five hundred in all, only half of 'em Europeans. What could so fewdo against so many? Our officers were all brave enough, but they've had aslack time, and few of 'em are fit for the work. Ensign Picard, sure, didwonders, and Lieutenant Smyth defended the north battery with exceedingskill; but we had not men enough to hold our positions, and step by stepwe were driven back.
"'Twas clear we could not hold out long, and on Friday night we held acouncil of war, and decided to send the women on board the ships in theriver, to get 'em out of harm's way. Then by heaven! Desmond, two of theCouncil shamed 'emselves for ever. Mr. Manningham and Mr. Frankland,special friends of Mr. Drake, attended the ladies to the ship--'twas theDodalay, of which they are owners--and they stayed on board with 'em--thecowards, to set such an infamous example! And well 'twas followed. 'Tisscarce credible, but Captain Minchin, our gallant commander, and Mr.Drake, our noble president, went down to the ghat and had 'emselves rowedoff to the shipping and deserted us: good God! do they deserve the nameof Englishmen? One of our gentlemen standing on the steps was so enragedthat he sent a bullet after the cravens; others did the same, and I wouldto heaven that one of their shots had took effect on the wretches! Wemade Mr. Holwell governor in the Quaker's place; and I tell you, Desmond,had we done so before, there would have been a different story to tellthis day.
"Mr. Holwell saw 'twas impossible to withstand the Nawab's hordes muchlonger, and spoke for an orderly retreat; but he was overrid by some ofthe military officers; and besides, retreat was cut off, for the shipsthat had lain in the river moved away, and though we hung out signalsfrom the fort asking 'em to come back and take us off, they paid no heed;nay, they stood farther off, leaving us to our fate. What could we do?Mr. Holwell sent to Omichand in his prison and offered to release him ifhe would treat with the Nawab for us. But the Gentoo refused. All hewould do was to write a letter to Manik Chand asking him to intercede forus. Mr. Holwell threw the letter over the wall among the enemy, and byheaven! Desmond, never did I suppose Englishmen would be reduced to sucha point of humiliation.
"But 'twas of no effect. The enemy came on with the more determination,and brought bamboos to scale the walls. We drove 'em off again, but withfrightful loss; twenty-five of our bravest men were killed outright andsixty wounded. 'Twas there I got my wounds, and 'twould have been allover with me but for that fine fellow Bulger; he turned aside with hishook a slashing blow from a scimitar and gave my assailant his quietus.Bulger fought like a hero, and the very look of him, black with powderand stained with blood, seemed to drive all the fight out of the Moorsthat came his way.
"All this time the shots of the Nawab's cannon annoyed us, not to muchharm, for they were most villainously served; their fire arrows did usmore mischief, flying into the thick of the crowds of screaming women andchildren. It made my heart sick to think of the poor innocent peoplesuffering through the weakness and incompetence and the guilty neglect ofour Council. The heat and the glare, the want of food, the uproar andcommotion--may I never see or hear the like again!
"Yesterday there was a lull in the fighting about midday. The enemy werestill outside the fort, though they had possession of all the housesaround. They showed a flag of truce, whereupon Mr. Holwell writ a letterasking 'em for terms. But 'twas a trick to deceive us. While we wereresting, waiting the result of the parley, the Moors poured out of theirhiding places and swarmed upon the eastern gate of the fort and thepallisadoes on the southwest. In the interval many of our common men hadfallen asleep; some, alas! were drunk, so that we had no force to resistthe invaders, who scaled the roof of the godowns on the north wall withthe aid of their bamboos and swept over into the fort.
"Most of us Europeans who were left collected in the veranda in front ofthe barracks--you know, between the great gate and the southeast bastion.Scarce a man of us but was wounded. There we were unmolested, for theenemy, as soon as they burst into our private rooms, made busy with theirspoil; and, as it appeared, the Nawab had given orders that we were to bespared.
"At five o'clock he came into the fort in a gay litter and held a durbarin our Council room, Mir Jafar salaaming before him and making fulsomecompliments on his great victory. Then the wretch sent for Mr. Holwell.We bade him farewell; sure we thought we should never see him more. Buthe returned to us presently, and told us the Nawab was vastly enraged atthe smallness of the treasure he had found; the stories of the French hadled him to expect untold wealth. Omichand and Krishna Das had been tookout of prison, and treated with great affability, and presented by theNawab with siropas--robes of honor, a precious token of his favor. Butthe Nawab. Mr. Holwell told us, had promised no harm should befall us. Aguard of five hundred gunmen was set over us with matches lighted, andthe sun being now nigh setting, men came with torches, though sure theywere not needed, a great part of the factory being in flames, so thatindeed we feared we should be suffocated. But we were shortly afterwardstold to go into the barracks, nigh the veranda where we stood.
"Then it was that I, by the mercy of God, was enabled to escape. I was atthe end of the veranda, farthest from the barracks. Just as I was aboutto move off after the rest, one of the guards came in front of me, andwhispered me to hide behind the last of the thick pillars till he camefor me. I recognized the man: 'twas an old peon of mine. Thank God for afaithful servant! More dead than alive I did what he said. For hours Ilay there, fearing I know not what, not daring to stir lest some eyeshould see me, and suffering agonies from my untended wounds. At last theman came to me.
"'Sahib,' he said, 'you were good to me. I shall save you. Come,quickly.'
"I got up and stumbled after him. He led me by dark ways out of the fort,past the new godown, across the burying ground, down to Chandpal ghat.There I found Mr. Toley awaiting me with a boat, and 'tis thanks to myold peon and him I now find myself safe."
"And do you know what became of Bulger?" asked Desmond.
"He is with the rest, sorely battered, poor man."
"What will happen to the prisoners? How many are there?"
"There are nigh a hundred and fifty. The Nawab has promised they shallsuffer no harm, and after a night in barracks I suppose he will let 'emgo. We shall drop down the river till we reach the other vessels atSurman's, and then, by heaven! I shall see what I can do to bring Mr.Drake to a sense of his duty, and persuade him to come back and take offthe Europeans.
"Sure this action of Sirajuddaula's will not go unavenged. We havealready sent letters to Madras, and within two months, I hope, succorwill reach us from thence, and we shall chastise this insolent youngNawab."
"Do you think he will keep his word?--I mean, to do the prisoners noharm."
"I think so. He has done no harm to Mr. Watts, whom he brought with himfrom Cossimbazar; and our people will be more valuable to him alive thandead. Yes; by this time tomorrow I trust Mr. Holwell and the others willbe safe on board the ships, and I do not envy Mr. Drake his bitterexperience when the men he has desert
ed confront him."
While Mr. Merriman was telling his story, the Hormuzzeer was slowlydrifting down the river. At Surman's garden, about five miles south ofCalcutta, it joined the other vessels belonging to British owners, anddropped anchor. Several gentlemen came on board, eager to learn what hadbeen the last scene in the tragic drama. Mr. Merriman told them all heknew, and every one drew a long breath of relief when they learned thatthough prisoners, Mr. Holwell and the gallant few who had stuck to theirposts had been assured of good treatment. During the day the vesseldropped still lower down the river to Budge Budge, running the gauntletof a brisk but ineffective fire from Tanna Fort, now in the hands of theNawab's troops.
When the Hormuzzeer lay at anchor at Budge Budge, Mr. Merriman explainedto Desmond the plans he had formed for him. The vessel now had her fullcargo, and would sail immediately for Penang. Mr. Merriman proposed thatDesmond should make the voyage. In his weak state the climate of Fulta,where the Europeans intended to stay until help reached them from Madras,might prove fatal to him; while the sea air would complete his cure.
His share of the sale price of the Tremukji, together with the Gheriaprize money, amounted to more than a thousand pounds, and this had beeninvested for him by his friend.
"For myself," added Merriman, "I shall remain. My wounds are not severe;I am accustomed to the climate; and though India is now odious to me, Ishall not leave Indian soil until I find traces of my dear wife anddaughter. God grant that by the time you return I shall have some news ofthem."
Desmond would have liked to remain with the merchant, but he knew that inhis weakness he could do him no service, and he acquiesced in thearrangement.
That same evening the fugitives received news that made their blood runcold. Two Englishmen, Messrs. Cooke and Lushington, who had remainedstaunchly by Mr. Holwell's side, came from the shore in a small boat andboarded the Dodalay. Their appearance struck every one with amazement andhorror. Mr. Cooke was a merchant, aged thirty-one; Mr. Lushington awriter in the Company's service, his age eighteen; but the events of onenight had altered them almost beyond recognition. They said that when theorder had been given to confine them in the barracks, the prisoners hadall expected to pass the night in comparative comfort. What was theiramazement when they were escorted to the Black Hole, a little chamber nomore than eighteen feet square, which was only used as a rule for theconfinement of one or two unruly prisoners. In vain they protested; theirbrutal guards forced them, a hundred and forty-six in number, into thenarrow space, and locked the door upon them. It was one of the hottestnights of the year; there was but one small opening in the wall, andbefore long the want of air and the intense heat drove the poor people tofury. They trampled each other down in their mad attempts to get near theopening for air and the water which one of their jailers, less brutalthan the rest, handed in to them.
The horror of the scenes that passed in that small room bafflesdescription. Men and women in the agonies of thirst and suffocationfought like tigers. Many prayed their guards to shoot them and end theirsufferings, only to meet with jeers and laughter. Some of the nativeofficers took pity on them and would have opened the door, but none durstmove without the Nawab's permission, or brave his fury if they roused himfrom his sleep. From seven in the evening till six in the morning theagony continued, and when at length the order came for their release,only twenty-three of the hundred and forty-six tottered forth, theghastliest wrecks of human beings.
Mr. Holwell and three others were then conveyed as prisoners in a bullockcart to Omichand's garden, and thence to Murshidabad; the rest werebidden to go where they pleased.
The news was kept from Desmond. It was not till weeks after that he heardof the terrible tragedy. Then, with the horror and pity he felt, therewas mingled a fear that Bulger had been among those who perished. Theseaman, he knew, had taken a stout part in the defense of the fort; Mr.Merriman had not mentioned him as being among the prisoners; it waspossible that he had escaped; but the thought that the brave fellow hadperhaps died in that awful hole made Desmond sick at heart.
Though the season was now at its hottest, the fresh sea air proved awonderful tonic to him, and he rapidly regained his strength. The voyagewas slow. The Hormuzzeer beat down the Bay of Bengal against the monsoonnow beginning, and it was nearly two months before she made Penang. Sheunloaded there: her cargo was sold at great profit, she being the onlyvessel that had for some time left the Hugli; and Desmond found hiscapital increased by nearly a hundred per cent. She then took on a cargofor Madras, where she arrived in the first week of September.
Desmond took the earliest opportunity of going on shore. The roads werestudded with Admiral Watson's fleet, and he learned that Clive was in thetown preparing an expedition to avenge the wrong suffered by the Englishin Calcutta. He hastened to obtain an interview with the colonel.
"'Tis no conventional speech when I say I am glad to see you alive andwell, Mr. Burke," said Clive. "Have you come direct from Calcutta?"
"No, sir. I left there some ten weeks ago for Penang."
"Then I have later news of my friend Merriman than you. Poor fellow! Heis distraught at the loss of his wife and girl. I have received severalletters from him. He spoke of you; told me of what you had done atCossimbazar. Gad, sir, you did right well in defending his goods; and Ipromise myself if ever I lay hands on that villain Peloti he shall smartfor that piece of rascaldom and many more. Are you still minded to takeservice with me?"
"I should like nothing better, sir, but I doubt whether I can think of ituntil I see Mr. Merriman."
"Tut, man, that is unnecessary. 'Twas arranged between Mr. Merriman andme in Bombay that he would release you as soon as a vacancy occurred inthe Company's military establishment. There are several such vacanciesnow, and I shall be glad to have a Shropshire man as a lieutenant. I trowyou are not averse to taking a hand in this expedition?"
"No one who knows what happened in Calcutta can be that, sir."
"That is settled, then. I appoint you a cadet in the Company's service."
"Thank you indeed, sir," said Desmond, flushing with pleasure. "I havelonged all my life to serve under you."
"You may find me a hard taskmaster," said Clive, setting his lips in thegrim way that so many had cause to fear.
"When do we start, sir?"
"That I can't say. 'Tis not by my wish we have delayed so long. I willlet you know when I require your services. Meanwhile, make yourselfacquainted with the officers."
Desmond learned from his new comrades that there was some disagreementamong the Madras Council about the command of the expedition. Clive hadvolunteered to lead it as soon as the news of the fall of Calcuttaarrived; but he was inferior in rank to Colonel Adlercron of theThirty-ninth Regiment, and that officer was a great stickler for militaryetiquette. The Council had some reason for anxiety. They were expectingto hear, from outcoming ships, of the outbreak of war between France andEngland; and as the French were strong in Southern India, it requiredmuch moral courage to weaken the force disposable for the defense ofMadras.
One day, before the matter of the command had been definitely settled,Desmond received a summons from Clive. He found the great soldier alone.
"You have heard of the discussions in the Council, Mr. Burke," beganClive without ceremony. "I tell you this: I and no other will commandthis expedition. In that confidence I have sent for you. What I haveheard of you speaks well for your readiness and resource, and I think youcould be more useful to me in the Hugli than waiting here until ourrespected Council can make up their minds. The men here are notacquainted with Bengal. You are: you know the country from Calcutta toMurshidabad, at all events, and you speak Hindustani with some fluency.You can serve me best by picking up any information you can get regardingthe enemy's movements. You are willing, I take it, to run some risks?"
"I'll do anything you wish, sir."
"As I expected. Well, you will go at once to Fulta. Not to Mr. Drake:I've no confidence in him and the other old
women who are conducting theCompany's affairs in Bengal. Major Killpatrick, an excellent officer,left here in June with a small reinforcement. He is now at Fulta. Youwill join him. I shall ask him to give you a free hand in going andcoming and collecting information. You understand that in a sense you areon secret service. I want you to keep an eye particularly on themovements of the French. 'Tis reported that they are in league withSirajuddaula: find out whether that's the case: and gad, sir, if it is,I'll not be satisfied till I've turned 'em neck and crop out of Bengal.You'll want money: here are five thousand rupees; if you want more, askMajor Killpatrick. Now, when can you start?"
"The Hormuzzeer is sailing in ballast tomorrow, sir. She'll go light, andaboard her I should get to Fulta as quickly as on any other vessel."
"Very well. I trust you: much depends on your work; go on as you havebegun and I promise you Robert Clive won't forget it. Goodby.
"By the way, your duties will take you through the parts where Mrs.Merriman disappeared. Your first duty is to me, and through me to yourking and country, remember that. But if you can get any news of themissing ladies, so much the better. Mrs. Merriman is a cousin of mywife's, and I am deeply concerned about her fate."
Next day the Hormuzzeer sailed, and by the middle of September Desmondhad reached Fulta, and reported himself both to Major Killpatrick and toMr. Merriman there.
In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India Page 25
