The G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “For myself, I wish well to the English. Though there are few of them, they are brave and strong; but my council know of the offer that Tippoo has made us and, unless I can show them that the English are also ready to give us material advantages, I shall not be able to persuade my chiefs that our interest must lie in an alliance with them.”

  “That is so, Rajah, and if you will inform me what are your expectations, I will see how far they tally with those which the Governor General has authorized me to offer.”

  “I am not greedy,” the prince said. “I wish only to have what is fair and just. I think that our aid is worth two crores of rupees (200,000 pounds) and that the Company should put me in possession of the lands of Purseram Bhow, together with the land that lies between us and Malwan, including the territories of the Rajah of Bhopal.”

  “Your demand,” Harry said gravely, “is so far beyond what I was authorized to offer you, that I fear it is altogether useless for me to submit it to the Governor General. He would, I am sure, consider that, in naming such terms, you had resolved to make acceptance impossible.”

  “That is by no means my intention,” the Rajah said. “Nothing could be further from my thoughts; and in order to secure an alliance that, I believe, would be advantageous, I might be able to make some slight concession.”

  “I will send off a messenger, then, submitting your offer and asking for instructions, and requesting that I may be allowed to meet you, by further concessions on my part; but I fear that, strained as the English treasury is by the preparations for the war against Tippoo, it would be impossible for the Company to pay the sum you name; nor do I think that they would be disposed to guarantee you the territory of Bhopal, seeing that we have no quarrel with the rajah of that country.

  “No doubt, they might be willing to grant you a portion of the territories of Mysore, lying on the other side of the Godavery, which would be as valuable as Bhopal.”

  As the rajah, himself, was still uncertain as to which side it would be most advantageous to take; and as he thought that the campaign against Tippoo would last for many months; he offered no objection to Harry’s proposal. The latter sent off two troopers, the next day, with a letter to Lord Mornington saying that as the rajah’s demands were, he knew, altogether out of the question, he had sent them to him simply to gain time; hoping that, before the answer arrived, the army would have gained such successes over Tippoo as would induce the prince to greatly modify his terms. The troopers were charged not to use undue haste, but to travel quietly, at a rate not exceeding twenty miles a day.

  Two months passed. The rajah was in no hurry, for the two parties among his councillors were so evenly divided that he was by no means sure that, even if he wished it, he could put his army in motion, in support of either the English or Tippoo; and in the next place, he believed that the latter would win, and was reluctant in the extreme to take any step that would draw down upon him the vengeance of the Lord of Mysore. He occasionally saw Harry and, although he expressed his anxiety for the return of the messengers, Harry could see that this feeling was only feigned, and that at heart he was not sorry that he was not yet called upon to decide.

  At the end of a month, Harry had received a letter from the Governor General, brought by a messenger in the disguise of a peasant. It only said:

  “March 6th, 1799.

  “The army has left Vellore. On the 11th the Nizam’s contingent also marched, as has that from Bombay. By the 1st of this month all should have reached the plateau—the Bombay army at Sedaseer, forty-five miles west of Seringapatam; and the main army about eighty miles east of that town. By the end of the month, both should be before Tippoo’s capital. Siege will probably occupy a month.

  “Even if Berar decides against us, its army cannot arrive in time to aid Tippoo. Therefore, if you can extend the negotiations for a month after you receive this, your mission will have been fulfilled.”

  This messenger had, of course, been sent off before the arrival of the troopers in Calcutta and, if Lord Mornington’s calculations were correct, Seringapatam would be invested before they could return. Three days later, indeed, a report reached Nagpore that Tippoo had fallen upon the advance guard of the Bombay army, and had been repulsed; and on the 27th he had attacked General Harris, and had again been defeated; and that on the 28th the main army had forded the Cauvery, and had marched to Sosilly.

  This news caused great excitement in the town, although Seringapatam was generally supposed to be impregnable and, as the English had failed to take it during the last war, it was believed that, after another futile siege, they would be forced to fall back again from want of food, as they did upon the previous occasion.

  The rajah, like the majority, believed that Seringapatam could defy any assault; and that, surrounded as the British army would be by the Mysore cavalry, they would very speedily be forced to retire; and that, although Tippoo might have yielded to the wishes of his general, and attempted to check the advance, it could have been with only a portion of his army.

  Including the contingent furnished by the Nizam, the Bombay army amounted to forty-three thousand men. Tippoo was credited with having at least twice that force, and his uniform successes against his neighbours had created a belief that he was invincible. The rajah, therefore, was well content to let matters rest, until more decisive news reached him.

  It was on the 7th of April that the messengers returned, with a letter:

  “We no longer want active assistance from Berar. The army is within striking distance of Seringapatam, and a few thousand native horse, one way or another, will make but little difference. You have done very well in gaining two months, by referring the matter to me. The rajah’s demands are, of course, ridiculous. He is evidently playing a double part and, if we were defeated tomorrow, would join Tippoo and attack the Nizam. You can still, however, offer him five lakhs of rupees; but do not guarantee him any additional territory.

  “The Peishwa is acting in precisely the same way. The army that was to come to our assistance has not yet moved; and he, like Berar, is simply awaiting events at Seringapatam.”

  The rajah came in that evening.

  “I hear that your messengers have returned, sir.”

  “Yes; I am sorry to say that the Governor General considers your demands are altogether excessive. The treasury is almost empty and, were he to guarantee you an extension of your dominions, it would bring on a war with the Peishwa and the Rajah of Bhopal; but he is willing to pay five lakhs of rupees, to cover the maintenance of your troops while in the field.”

  The rajah flushed with anger.

  “It is altogether insufficient,” he said.

  “I do not say that is the final offer, Rajah; that is the offer I am authorized to make, in the first place. Possibly, if you are willing to make concessions of a reasonable kind, I may be able to meet you—and you must remember that the friendship of the Company is of no slight advantage, and would assuredly be of infinite value to you, were your territory invaded by Scindia and the Peishwa. These may, at any moment, make up their differences. Purseram Bhow may again become the commander of the Peishwa’s army and, after the manner in which your troops have, for the last two or three years, raided his jagheer, he would be your bitterest enemy.”

  Harry saw that this consideration made a powerful impression upon the rajah, and the latter said:

  “I must think these matters over. The sum that you offer is altogether insufficient, and cannot be entertained for a moment. However, there is time for reflection.”

  During the next four weeks, Harry saw the rajah occasionally; but the latter made no attempt to talk business. He was evidently undecided, in his mind, as to the best course he should take. He feared Tippoo more than he feared the English, and he still believed that the latter would assuredly fail in capturing Seringapatam. Tippoo’s offers, too, had been considerably higher than those of Calcutta, as he had promised him a large slice of the Nizam’s dominions for his assistance. He had
therefore determined to reject the English offer, and to march into the Nizam’s country, as soon as he heard that the besieging army had fallen back.

  Harry’s suspicions that this was the case were, to a certain extent, confirmed by the fact that bodies of armed men began to arrive, in considerable numbers. He felt that his own position was beginning to be precarious, and the native officer commanding his escort brought in almost hourly reports of what was passing in the city. The population was a mixed one, and nearly divided between Hindus and Mahommedans. The latter naturally sympathized altogether with Tippoo, while the former were in favour of taking no part on either side.

  So matters continued until the 10th of May, when a horseman rode into the town, with the news that Seringapatam had been captured by the British, and that Tippoo himself was killed. A feeling akin to stupefaction was excited by the news; and it seemed, at first, that it must be false, for it was incredible that Tippoo, with so strong an army, should have been unable to defend the fortress that, as was believed, could withstand any attack, however formidable, for four months.

  The rajah sent at once, to ask Harry to visit him. As he rode through the streets he saw, by the scowling faces of the Mahommedan soldiers, how fierce a feeling of resentment had been excited by the news that the native officer had brought in, a few minutes before. The rajah was deeply agitated.

  “Have you heard the news, sahib?”

  “I have, Rajah.”

  “And do you think it possible?”

  “Perfectly; indeed, I have been expecting it for some days, but I supposed the English general needed time to bring in provisions from the country round, to form his plans, and construct his batteries.”

  “To me it is astounding!” the rajah said, walking up and down the room.

  “Of course,” Harry said, “the proposal that I made to you cannot now be carried out; and I do not feel myself justified, under the changed position of things, in continuing the negotiations.”

  “I always intended to help the English,” the rajah went on.

  “No doubt, Rajah. I have noticed, for some time, that you have been gathering a large force here; but you have given me no indication for what purpose it was intended.”

  “It was intended, of course, for service with the English,” the rajah said, “and it would have been set in motion, as soon as the negotiations were completed.”

  “At any rate, Rajah, in spite of the temptations offered you by Tippoo, you have remained neutral. This will be considered in your favour, and I can assure you that there will be no breach in the friendship between yourself and the English; matters will merely remain as they were, before this war commenced.”

  “Except that the Nizam will become more powerful than before,” the rajah said.

  “That will no doubt be so, for he will certainly take a considerable share of Tippoo’s dominions. But that need not trouble you. I know the desire of the Governor General has always been for peace. He was driven into this war, by the failure of Tippoo to carry out his undertaking to release all European prisoners in his hands, and also by the great preparations he was making to regain territory that he had lost. But it cannot be to the interest of the Company that the Nizam should use his increased power to be a scourge to his neighbours; and I can promise you that any wanton aggression, on his part, will be regarded with displeasure, and probably lead to their interference in your behalf.

  “Now, Rajah, I must remind you that I am here as your guest, and I rely upon you to protect me. As I came through the streets, the attitude of the Mahommedan soldiers was very threatening; and I should not be surprised if they attempted to attack the house. I need not say that any outrage upon the escort of a British agent would be tremendously avenged; and that you would be more easily forgiven, had you taken the part of Tippoo, than if you allow me and my escort to be massacred.”

  “I will take immediate steps for your safety and, should any attempt be made, I shall come with my household guards to your assistance. A squadron of them shall ride back with you, now, to prevent any insult being offered to you in the streets.”

  “I will relieve you of my presence, tonight,” Harry said. “I do not wish to be an object of strife between you and your people, and will therefore take my farewell of you, at once. I shall have pleasure in informing the Governor General of the steps that you have taken to provide for my safety.”

  “And give him the assurance that my disposition is wholly friendly, and that I rely on nothing so much as to secure his friendship, and to remain on the most amicable terms with him.”

  Harry had no doubt that the assurance was given in earnest. The fall of Seringapatam, and the death of Tippoo, had been a terrible shock to the rajah; and even the fact that he had missed his opportunity of allying himself with the English, was as nothing to the thought of what would have happened had he declared for Tippoo.

  The rajah at once gave orders for a squadron of his horse to mount, and continued his conversation with Harry until they were ready in the courtyard. Then, bidding adieu to the prince, the latter mounted, and was escorted through the streets by the cavalry guard.

  But although their presence prevented any attack being made on him, the lower class groaned and yelled, and he had no doubt that, had it not been for his escort, he would have been murdered on his way back.

  Directly he arrived he called the troopers to arms, and told them to barricade the gates, and to be ready to take post at the windows, in case of assault. Looking out, he saw that the rajah’s men had taken up their position in front of the house.

  A great crowd soon began to gather there. Most of the men were evidently soldiers, and had arms in their hands. Loud shouts were raised, and it was not long before a musket was discharged, quickly followed by others. The native officer in charge of the guard ordered the soldiers to seize those who fired but, as his men pressed their horses forward, the crowd closed in upon them, breaking their ranks and rendering them powerless.

  While this had been going on, the men of Harry’s escort were hard at work in getting up the paving stones of the yard, and piling them against the gate. The lower windows were all barred and, as there was no entrance except by the front gate, it was felt that they could hold the house for some time.

  As soon as the guard were swept away, a portion of the crowd attacked the gate with showers of stones, while a heavy musketry fire was opened at every window. So heavy was this that Harry would not allow the troopers to show themselves there, but posted them behind the barricades of stone against the gates so that, when these yielded, they might be able to open fire whilst showing only their heads over the top line of stones.

  Harry regretted, now, that he had not, when he returned from the rajah, at once ordered his men to mount and cut their way through the mob. A few at least might have escaped though, doubtless, they would have been pursued by the irregular cavalry. As it was he felt that, although they might sell their lives dearly, they must be destroyed to a man, unless the rajah sent assistance to them. That he would endeavour to do so he felt sure, for the massacre of a British envoy, and his escort, was certain to bring the English troops to Nagpore, sooner or later; and no assurances that the rajah had done all in his power to save them would be accepted as sufficient.

  The house stood in a garden, which extended some distance behind it; and it was here that the horses were picketed. The front gate was a very strong one, and was certain to resist all attacks, for some time.

  Harry called off half his men, and set them to work at the wall at the end of the garden, which was only constructed of dry mud; directing them to make a hole large enough for a horse to pass through. At this side all was quiet, the people in the native houses there having gone round to the front, to watch what was doing. Harry stood there for a few minutes, watching the men at work, and saw with satisfaction their heavy tulwars rapidly cutting through the soft wall. He told them that, when they had finished, four of them were to remain to guard the hole, in case any mi
ght try to force their way in; and the rest were to return, to aid their comrades at the gate.

  He had no great fear that the attempt would be made to enter in that direction, for the windows in the back of the house were, like those in front, large; and anyone attempting to climb the walls and enter the garden would be liable to be shot down from the windows, as they could not be covered, as were those on the other side, by a fire kept up from the houses outside. The entrance into the garden from the house was made by a small door, at the bottom of a staircase leading from what had been the zenana, for the gardens were always considered the special domain of the ladies. There was another small door for the servants’ offices, used by the men who, early in the morning, went in to keep the garden in order.

  When Harry rejoined the party in front, he found that the gates were yielding. The lower portion had been almost chopped away; but here the wall of stones prevented an entrance, and the men with their axes could scarcely reach to touch the upper half. Presently, however, the hinges of the upper end of one of the half doors yielded to the weight. A great shout arose from the mob; and the musketry, hitherto directed against the windows, was now concentrated on the opening.

  But it was no longer one sided. The troopers, glad that the time for inaction had passed, returned the fire with vigour. They had shifted the upper line of stones, so that there was room between each for a musket barrel and, lying in shelter, they were enabled to take deliberate aim at their assailants. At every shot a man dropped, and the crowd opened speedily, and cleared away from the line of fire.

  There was a pause of some minutes, and then a strong party of soldiers rushed forward, and began to try to pull down the barrier; a number of others opening fire over their heads, so as to prevent the defenders from standing up to fire down into them. It was evident that, ere long, a slope would be formed outside by which an assault could be made.