Chapter 28: In which Captain Barker has cause to rue the day whenhe met Mr. Diggle; and our hero continues to wipe off old scores.
Desmond received a warm welcome both from Admiral Watson and ColonelClive. His account of the manner in which he had defeated Manik Chand'sscheme for blocking the river was received with shouts of laughter, whilehis ingenuity and courage were warmly commended by both officers. Indeed,the admiral, always more impulsive than Clive, offered him on the spot alieutenancy in the fleet, and was not very well pleased when Desmondpolitely declined the honor. He caught a gleam of approval in Clive'seyes, and later in the day, when he saw his hero alone, he felt wellrewarded.
"A naval lieutenant ranks higher than a lieutenant in the army--I supposeyou know that, Burke?" said Clive.
"Yes, sir."
"And you're only a cadet. From today you are a lieutenant, my lad. I ampleased with you, and whatever his enemies say of Bob Clive, no one eversaid of him that he forgot a friend."
The forces proceeded to Calcutta next day, and retook the town withsurprising ease. Manik Chand was so much alarmed by seeing the effect ofthe big guns of the fleet that he abandoned the place almost withoutstriking a blow, and when the British troops entered they were too lateeven to make any prisoners save a few of the ragtag and bobtail in therear.
Mr. Merriman returned to Calcutta a few days later. Desmond was grievedto observe how rapidly he was aging. In spite of Clive's recommendationto keep silence he could not refrain from telling his friend what he haddiscovered about the missing ladies; and he did not regret it, for theknowledge that they were alive and, when last heard of, out of Peloti'sclutches, acted like a tonic. Merriman was all eagerness to set off andsearch for them himself; but Desmond pointed out the danger of such acourse, and he reluctantly agreed to wait a little longer, and seewhether any news could be obtained during the operations which Clive wasplanning against the Nawab.
Meanwhile, Desmond learned from Bulger what had happened to him since thefall of Calcutta. He was one of the hundred and forty-six thrown into theBlack Hole.
"'Tis only by the mercy of the Almighty I'm here today," he saidsolemnly. "I saw what 'twould be as soon as the door of that Black Holewas locked, and me and some others tried to force it. 'Tweren't no good.Mr. Holwell--he's a brave man, an' no mistake--begged an' prayed of usall to be quiet; but Lor' bless you, he might ha' saved his breath. 'Twasa hot night; we soon began to sweat most horrible an' feel a ragin'thirst. We took off most of our clothes, an' waved our hats to set theair a-movin'; which 'twas hard enough work, 'cos we was packed so tight.I en't a-goin' to tell you all the horrors o' that night, sir; I'd likeuncommon to forget 'em, though I don't believe I never shall. 'Twas soawful that many a poor wretch begged of the Moors outside to fire on 'em.Worst was when the old jamadar put skins o' water in at the window. MyGod! them about me fought like demons, which if I hadn't flattened myselfagainst the wall I should ha' been crushed or trodden to death, like moston 'em. For me, I couldn't get near the water; I sucked my shirt sleeves,an' 'tis my belief 'twas on'y that saved me from goin' mad. A man whatwas next me took out his knife an' slit a vein, 'cos he couldn't bear theagony no longer. Soon arter, I fell in a dead faint, an' knowed no moretill I found myself on my back outside, with a Moor chuckin' water at me.They let me go, along with some others; and a rotten old hulk I was,there en't no mistake about that. Why, bless you, my skin come out allboils as thick as barnacles on a hull arter a six months' voyage, all'cos o' being in sich bad air without water. And then the fever cameaboard, an' somehow or other I got shipped to the mounseers' hospital atChandernagore, which they was very kind to me, sir; there en't no denyin'that. I may be wrong, but I could take my oath, haffidavy, an' solemnwill an' testament that a mounseer's got a heart inside of his body arterall, which makes him all the better chap to have a slap at if you come tothink of the why an' wherefore of it."
"But how came you on board the Tyger?"
"Well, when my boils was gone an' the fever slung overboard, I got downto Fulta an' held on the slack there; an' when the ships come up, theysent for me, 'cos havin' sailed up an' down the river many a time, theythought as how I could do a bit o' pilotin', there not bein' enough Dutchpilots to go round. An' I ha' had some fun, too, which I wonder I canlaugh arter that Black Hole and all. By thunder! 'tis a merry sight tosee the Moors run. The very look of a cutlass a'most turns 'un white, andthey well-nigh drops down dead if they see a sailor man. Why, t'other dayat Budge Budge--they ought to call it Fudge Fudge now, seems to me--theJack tars went ashore about nightfall to help the lobsters storm the fortin the dark. But Colonel Clive he was dog tired, an' went to his bed,sayin' as how he'd lead a boardin' party in the mornin'. That warn'texactly beans an' bacon; nary a man but would ha' took a big dose o'fever if they'd laid out on the fields all night.
"Anyways, somewhere about eleven, an' pitch dark, a Jack which his nameis Strahan--a Scotchman, by what they say--went off all alone by himself,to have a sort of private peep at that there fort. He was pretty wellfilled up wi' grog, or pr'aps he wouldn't ha' been quite so venturesome.Well, he waded up to his chin in a ditch o' mud what goes round the fort,with his pistols above his head. When he gets over, bang goes one pistol,an' he sets up a shout: 'One and all, my boys! one and all,hurray!'--a-dreamin' I s'pose as he was captain of a boardin' party an acrew o' swabs behind him. Up he goes, up the bastion; bang goes t'otherpistol; then he outs with his cutlass, a-roarin' hurray with a voice likea twelve pounder; down goes three o' them Moors; another breaks Jack'scutlass with his simitar; bless you, what's he care? don't care a straw,which his name is Strahan; he've got a fist, he have, an' he dashes it inthe Moor's face, collars his simitar, cuts his throat and sings out, 'Ho,mateys! this 'ere fort's mine!'
"Up comes three or four of his mates what heard his voice; they swingsround the cannon on the bastion an' turns it on the enemy; bang! bang!and bless your heart, the Moors cut and run, an' the fort was ourn."
At the moment Desmond thought that Bulger was drawing the long bow. Butmeeting Captain Speke of the Kent a little later, he asked how much truththere was in the story.
"'Tis all true," said the captain, laughing, "but not the whole truth.The day after Strahan's mad performance the admiral sends for him:discipline must be maintained, you know. 'What's this I hear about you?'says Mr. Watson, with a face of thunder. Strahan bobbed, and scratchedhis head, and twirled his hat in his hand, and says: 'Why to be sure,sir, 'twas I took the fort, and I hope there ain't no harm in it!' ByGeorge! 'twas as much as the admiral could do to keep a straight face. Hegot the fellow to tell us about it: we had our faces in our handkerchiefsall the time. Then Mr. Watson gave him a pretty rough wigging, and woundup by saying that he'd consult me as to the number of lashes to be laidon.
"You should have seen the fellow's face! As he went out of the cabin Iheard him mutter: 'Well, if I'm to be flogged for this 'ere haction, behanged if I ever take another fort alone by myself as long as I live!'"
"Surely he wasn't flogged?" said Desmond, laughing heartily.
"Oh, no! Mr. Watson told us as a matter of form to put in a plea for thefellow, and then condescended to let him off. Pity he's such a loosefish!"
For two months Desmond remained with Clive. He was with him at thecapture of Hugli, and in that brisk fight at Calcutta on the fifth ofFebruary, which gave the Nawab his first taste of British quality.Sirajuddaula was encamped to the northeast of the town with a huge army.In a heavy fog, about daybreak, Clive came up at the head of a mixedforce of king's troops, sepoys and sailors, some two thousand men in all.Hordes of Persian cavalry charged him through the mist, but they werebeaten off, and Clive forced his way through the enemy's camp until hecame near the Nawab's own tents, pitched in Omichand's garden.Sirajuddaula himself was within an ace of being captured. His troops madebut a poor stand against the British, and by midday the battle was over.
Scared by this defeat, the Nawab was ready to conclude with the Companythe treaty which long neg
otiations had failed to effect. By this treatythe trading privileges granted to the Company by the emperor of Delhiwere confirmed; the Nawab agreed to pay full compensation for the lossessustained by the Company and its servants; and the right to fortifyCalcutta was conceded. The longstanding grievances of the Company werethus, on paper, redressed.
A day or two after the battle a ship arrived with the news that war hadbeen declared in Europe between England and France. Efforts to maintainneutrality between the English and French in Bengal having failed, Clivewished the Nawab to join him in an attack on the French settlements inBengal. This the Nawab refused to do, though he wrote, promising that hewould hold as enemies all who were enemies of Clive--a promise that borebitter fruit before many months had passed.
The French were keen rivals of the Company in the trade of India, andconstantly took advantage of native troubles to score a point in thegame. Clive had come to Bengal with the full intention of making theCompany, whose servant he was, supreme; and having secured the treatywith Sirajuddaula he resolved to turn his arms against the French. Theywere suspected of helping the Nawab in his expedition against Calcutta:it was known that the Nawab, treating his engagements with recklesslevity and faithlessness, was trying to persuade Bussy, the Frenchcommander in the Dekkan, to help him to expel the British from Bengal.There was excuse enough for an attack on Chandernagore.
But before Clive could open hostilities, he was required, by an oldarrangement with the Mogul, to obtain permission from the Nawab. Thispermission was at length got from him by Omichand. The sack of Calcuttaby the Nawab had caused Omichand great loss, and, hoping in part toretrieve it, he made his peace with Clive and the Council, and was thenselected to accompany Mr. Watts when he went as British representative toMurshidabad. The wily Sikh, working always for his own ends, contrived tomake the unstable young despot believe that the French were tricking him,and in a fit of passion he sealed a letter allowing Admiral Watson tomake war upon them. He repented of it immediately, but the letter wasgone.
On the day after it reached the admiral, March twelfth, 1757, Clive senta summons to Monsieur Renault, the governor of Chandernagore, tosurrender the fort. No reply was received that day, and Clive resolved,failing a satisfactory answer within twenty-four hours, to read KingGeorge's declaration of war and attack the French.
Desmond was breakfasting among a number of his fellow officers nextmorning when up came Hossain, the serang who had accompanied him on hiseventful journeys up and down the Hugli. Lately he had been employed, onDesmond's recommendation, in bringing supplies up the river for thetroops. The man salaamed and said that he wished to say a few wordsprivately to the sahib. Desmond rose, and went apart with him.
At sunrise, said the man, a vessel flying Dutch colors had dropped downthe river past the English fleet. Her name was Dutch, and her destinationRotterdam; but Hossain was certain that she was really the Good Intent,which Desmond had pointed out to him as they passed Chandernagore, andwhich they had more than once seen since in the course of their journeys.Her appearance had attracted some attention on the fleet; and the Tygerhad sent a shot after her, ordering her to heave to; but having a strongnortheast wind behind her, she took no notice of the signal and held onher course.
Desmond thanked Hossain for the information, and, leaving his breakfastunfinished, went off at once to see Clive, whom he was to join thatmorning on a tour of inspection of the northwest part of the Frenchsettlement.
"Well, I don't see what we can do," said Clive, when Desmond repeated thenews to him. "Mr. Watson no doubt suspected her when it was too late.Nothing but a regular chase could have captured her after she had passed.Ships can't be spared for that; they've much more important work onhand."
"Still, 'tis a pity, sir," said Desmond. "'Tis not only that CaptainBarker is an interloper; he has been in league with pirates, and hisbeing at Chandernagore all these months means no good."
"It means, at any rate, that he hasn't been able to get a cargo. Trade'sat a standstill. Well, I'd give something to lay Mr. Barker and his crewby the heels--on behalf of the Company, Burke, for don't forget, as someof our friends of the Calcutta Council do, that I am here to save theCompany, not their private property. 'Tis too late to stop the vesselnow."
"I'd like to try, sir."
"I dare say you would. You're as ready to take risks as I am," he added,with his characteristic pursing of the lips; "and 'pon my word, you'rejust as lucky! For I'm lucky, Burke; there's no doubt of it. That affairat Calcutta might have done for us but for the morning mist. I'd like totry myself. It would punish a set of rogues, and discourage interloping,to the benefit of the Company. But I can't spare men for the job. Barkerhas no doubt a large crew; they'll be on the lookout for attack; no, Ican't touch it."
Desmond hesitated for a moment. He did not wish to lose the fighting atChandernagore, but he had the strongest personal reasons for desiring thearrest of the Good Intent.
"Do you think, sir, we shall capture this place tomorrow?" he askedsuddenly.
"Scarcely, my boy," said Clive, smiling; "nor by tomorrow week, unlessthe French have forgotten how to fight. Why do you ask?"
"Because if you'd give me leave I'd like to have a shot at the GoodIntent--provided I got back in time to be with you in the fighting line,sir."
"Well, I can't keep things waiting for you. And it seems a wild-goosechase--rather a hazardous one."
"I'd risk that, sir. I could get together some men in Calcutta, and I'dhope to be back here in a couple of days."
"Well, well, Burke, you'd wheedle the Mogul himself. Anyone could tellyou're an Irishman. Get along, then; do your best, and if you don't comeback I'll try to take Chandernagore without you."
He smiled as he slapped Desmond on the shoulder. Well pleased with hisready consent, Desmond hurried away, got a horse, and riding hard reachedCalcutta by eight o'clock and went straight to Mr. Merriman. Explainingwhat was afoot, he asked for the loan of the men of the Hormuzzeer.Merriman at once agreed; Captain Barker was a friend of Peloti's; and heneeded no stronger inducement.
Desmond hurried down to the river; the Hormuzzeer was lying offCruttenden Ghat; and Mr. Toley for once broke through his settled sadnessof demeanor when he learned of the expedition proposed.
While Toley collected the crew and made his preparations, Desmondconsulted a pilot. The Good Intent had passed Calcutta an hour before;but the man said that, though favored by the wind, she would scarcely getpast the bar at Mayapur on the evening tide. She might do so ifexceptionally lucky; in that case there would be very little chance ofovertaking her.
Less than two hours after Desmond reached Calcutta two budgeros leftCruttenden Ghat. Each was provided with a double complement of men, andalthough the sails filled with a strong following wind, their oars werekept constantly in play. The passengers on board were for the most partunaccustomed to this luxurious mode of traveling. There were a dozenlascars; Hossain the serang; Karim, the man saved by Desmond atChandernagore; Bulger and the second mate of the Hormuzzeer, and Mr.Toley, who, like Desmond and the serang, was clothed, much to Bulger'samusement, as a fairly well-to-do ryot.
For some hours the tide was contrary; but when it turned, the budgeros,under the combined impulses of sail, oar and current, made swiftprogress, arousing some curiosity among the crews of riverside craft,little accustomed to the sight of budgeros moving so rapidly.
Approaching Mayapur, Desmond descried the spars of the Good Intent a longway ahead. Was there enough water to allow her to pass the bar? hewondered. Apparently there was, for she kept straight on her course underfull sail. Desmond bit his lips with vexation, and had almost given uphope, though he did not permit any slackening of speed, when to his joyhe saw the vessel strike her topsails, then the rest of her canvas.
He at once ran his boats to the shore at Mayapur. There were a number ofriver craft at the place, so that the movements of his budgeros, ifobserved from the Good Intent, were not likely to awaken suspicion. Onlanding he went
to the house of a native merchant, Babu Aghor Nath Bose,to whom he had a letter from Mr. Merriman.
"Can you arrange for us," he said, when civilities had been exchanged,"tonight, the loan of two shabby old country boats?"
The native considered.
"I think I can, sahib," he said at length. "I would do much for MerrimanSahib. A man I frequently employ is now anchored off my ghat. No doubt,for fair pay, he and another might be persuaded to lend their craft."
"Very well, be good enough to arrange it. I only require the boats for afew hours tomorrow morning. Do you think twenty rupees would suffice?"
The native opened his eyes. He himself would not have offered so much.But he said:
"Doubtless that will suffice, sahib. The matter is settled."
"I shall meet you in an hour. Thank you."
Returning to the budgeros, Desmond instructed Hossain to go into thebazaar and buy up all the fresh fruit he could find. The sales for theday were over; but Hossain hunted up the fruit sellers and bargained sosuccessfully that when he returned he was accompanied by a whole gang ofcoolies, bearing what seemed to Desmond an appalling quantity of melons,all for thirty rupees.
Before this, however, Aghor Nath Bose had reported that the hire of thetwo boats was duly arranged. They were open boats, little more thanbarges, with a small cabin or shelter aft. Their crews had been dismissedand had taken their belongings ashore; both were empty of cargo. Desmondwent with Bulger on board and arranged a number of bamboos crosswise onthe boats, covering up the empty spaces which would usually be occupiedby merchandise. Over the bamboos he placed a layer of thin matting, andon this, when Hossain returned, he ordered the coolies to put the melons.To a casual observer it would have appeared that the boats were ladenwith a particularly heavy cargo of the golden fruit.
An hour before dawn, the lascars and others from the Hormuzzeer slippedquietly from the budgeros on board the country boats, and bestowedthemselves as best they could under the bamboo deck supporting themelons. It was cool in the early morning, although the hot season wasapproaching; but Desmond did not envy the men their close quarters. Theywere so much excited, however, at the adventure before them, and so eagerto earn the liberal reward promised them if it succeeded, that not a manmurmured. The Europeans had cooler quarters in the rude cabins, wherethey were hidden from prying eyes under miscellaneous native wraps.
Desmond had learned from the pilot that it would be nearly eight o'clockbefore the depth of water over the bar was sufficient to allow a shiplike the Good Intent to proceed with safety. A little before daybreak thetwo boats crept out from the ghat. It was well to avoid curiosity beforeMayapur woke up. Desmond steered the first, Hossain the second; andbesides the steersmen there were two men visible on the deck of each.
The tide was running up, but the wind still held from the northeast, andthough moderated in force since the evening it was strong enough to takethem slowly down toward the Good Intent. The sky was lightening, but aslight mist hung over the river. Desmond kept a close lookout ahead, andafter about half an hour he caught sight of the hull of the Good Intent,looming before him out of the mist. Allowing the second boat to comealongside, he turned and spoke to the serang.
"Now, Hossain, there she is. Hail her."
"Hai, hai!" shouted the man. "Do the sahibs want to buy any fresh fruit?"
An oath floated down from the stern. Captain Barker was there, peeringintently through the mist up the river.
"Good melons, sahib, all fresh, and not too ripe. Cheap as ragi, sahib."
The mate had joined the captain; the Dutch pilot stood by, smoking apipe. The fruit boats had by this time come under the stern of thevessel, and Desmond heard the mate say:
"We came away in such a hurry, sir, that we hadn't time to take in asupply of vegetables. Melons'll keep, sir, if they en't overripe."
Barker growled, then bent over and called to the serang. "How much?"
"Very cheap, sahib, very cheap. I will come aboard."
"Then be quick about it: we're going to trip the anchor, melons or nomelons. D'ye hear?"
Hossain ran down the sail and clambered up the chains; which the otherboatmen made fast to a rope thrown from the deck. Desmond also loweredhis sail, steering so as to approach the port quarter of the Good Intent,the serang's boat being on the starboard. No rope was thrown to him, buthe found that the tide was now only strong enough to neutralize the wind,and a stroke every now and again with the paddle at the stern kept hisboat stationary.
Meanwhile there came from the deck the singsong of men heaving up theanchor. When the serang stepped on board the greater part of the crew ofthe Good Intent were forward. Little time was spent in haggling. A melonwas thrown up as a sample, and the price asked was so extraordinarily lowthat Captain Barker evidently thought he had got a bargain.
"Heave 'em up," he said, "and if they en't all up to sample--"
He broke off, no doubt believing that his fierce scowl was sufficient topoint his threat.
The serang hailed Desmond to come alongside. A few sweeps of the paddlebrought the boat close underneath the Good Intent's side, and a secondrope enabled him to make fast.
He swarmed up the rope, followed by one of the boatmen. The other, on theboat, began to fill a basket with melons, as if preparing to send them onboard. At the same time Karim joined Hossain from the other side, so thatthere were now four of the party on deck.
At a sign from Desmond, the two natives, carrying out instructionspreviously given, strolled toward the companionway. Hossain had started aconversation with the captain and mate, telling them about the Britishfleet he had passed as he came down the river. The Dutch pilot looked on,stolidly puffing his pipe.
Desmond stepped to the side of the vessel as though to hoist the basketwith the running tackle. Making a sign to the men below, he called in aloud voice:
"Tano!"
Instantly the men swarmed up the rope. At the signal, misleading to thecrew of the Good Intent, man after man crawled from beneath the mattingon the boat below, and clambered up the ropes, led by Bulger on one sideand Mr. Toley on the other. They made little noise, and that was drownedby the singsong of the sailors and the grinding of the cables; the pilotwith his back to the bulwarks saw nothing, and before Captain Barker knewthat anything unusual was occurring both Bulger and Toley were tumblingover the sides.
The captain stood almost petrified with amazement as he saw Bulger's redface rising like the morning sun. He stepped back apace.
"What the--"
The exclamation was never completed. Desmond stepped up to him and in alow voice said:
"In the name of his Majesty, King George, I call upon you, CaptainBarker, to surrender this ship."
He had a leveled pistol in his hand. Bulger with a cutlass sprang to oneside, and Toley ranged himself on the other. Hossain had joined the twoboatmen at the companionway; all had brought out pistols from the foldsof their clothing, and the companionway commanded access to the ship'sarmory.
Barker, who had grown purple at the sight of Bulger, now turned a sicklywhite. The mate dashed forward, calling to the crew, who, seeing thatsomething was amiss, came along with a rush, arming themselves withbelaying pins and any other weapons that came handy. Toley, however,leaving the cowed and speechless captain to Desmond, stepped toward themen. They recognized him at once and paused doubtfully.
"You know me," he said. "I'm a man of few words. You won't go furtherthis voyage. Captain Barker has surrendered the ship. You'll drop thosedesperate things in your hands and go for'ard. Show a leg, now!"
The men looked from one to another, then at the captain, who was at thatmoment handing over his sword to Desmond. If Captain Barker was too badlybeaten to swear he was in poor case indeed. The crew's hesitation was butmomentary; under Toley's sad gaze they sullenly flung down their weaponsand went forward.
Only then did the captain find speech. But it was to utter a fearfulcurse, ending with the name:
"Diggle."
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In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India Page 30
