Zemindar

by Valerie Fitzgerald

  So, contrary to our expectations, we ate one more meal in that small, dark room so full of associations. Kate produced some salt biscuits and a packet of dates given her by one of the ‘Shannons’, and for the last time we poured ourselves tepid water from the earthenware jar in the corner, fishing out the mosquito larvae before we drank.

  The guns of the Shannon, battering the great red walls of the Kaiser Bagh, increased in power and frequency, and idly I wondered if it were true that a party of English prisoners were still held fast in some room of that vast palace. Poor creatures: to run the risk of death from their own guns after so many months in the pandies’ hands! I hoped that if the story were true, the unfortunate sufferers were already dead.

  We were dusting the crumbs from our laps, when Toddy-Bob appeared on the verandah, grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Tod! Where have you been all these days? We’ve seen nor hide nor hair of you for ages,’ cried Kate.

  My heart in my eyes, I looked beyond Toddy’s small form, but his master had not come with him.

  ‘Busy,’ Tod said shortly. ‘A mite busy the last days ’ave bin, what with one thing and another. But now, we’ve a nag for you!’ he announced with pride and backed on to the verandah, beckoning us to follow. ‘A rotten ol’ bag o’ bones and an insult to the name of ’orse—but yours!’ He flourished a hand and we were rewarded with the sight of an extremely tall, extremely thin piebald mare, tied to a post by cracked reins.

  ‘Toddy! It’s a miracle!’ I exclaimed in delight. ‘How on earth did you manage it? … No, I’m not going to scold.’

  ‘Well now, miss, and I don’t know as ’ow the Guv’nor would care for me to answer that question, but what I can say is ’ow we been after that there animal for two nights and a day, neglectin’ all our duties into the bargain.’

  ‘God bless you all for it,’ said Kate fervently. ‘And tell your Guv’nor we don’t care a damn how he came by it. We thank him heartily.’

  ‘Yes’m,’ responded Toddy demurely with downcast eyes.

  ‘We … we will see Mr Erskine won’t we, Tod? Later?’ I enquired timorously.

  ‘Can’t say, miss—things being what you might call uncertain like.’

  ‘But surely he will see us before we leave for the Dilkusha?’

  ‘P’raps,’ he said doubtfully.

  ‘Toddy, how is he? I have been thinking he might have been injured, we haven’t seen him for days.’

  ‘Not injured, no, miss. But in a filthy black temper like I never seen ’im in afore, and more longer lastin’, too!’ He looked at me with undisguised accusation.

  ‘He is?’

  ‘Yes, miss. Fit to be tied ’e is. Cussin’ and swearin’ at nothin’ at all, nearly took ’is fist to me yesterday and ’e even yelled at Ishmial, and y’know, miss, ’e never yells at no blackie what can’t answer back. Says it ain’t proper.’

  ‘Aye! That would be his arm,’ Jessie said consolingly to me. ‘He’s the sort o’ man who’s unco’ set on doin’ all for himself, and when he finds himself hampered, nae doubt he’s like to be a wee bit thrawn.’

  ‘Maybe,’ allowed Toddy with scepticism. ‘But I’m thinkin’ ’is trouble is otherwhere.’

  My cheeks flushed under the direct gaze of the black eyes, and I walked away to pat the horse, which stood with its nose in a nosebag and regarded me mildly as it chewed.

  ‘Now look here, Tod!’ Kate was peremptory. ‘We must see Mr Erskine before we go. We want to thank him for his kindness in sending us that … that creature. And we must make arrangements for when we meet in the Dilkusha. Nip along smartly now and ask him to come up here before we leave. Miss Laura says it will be some time before we move, but hurry. I suppose you are accompanying us, as we have no syce?’

  ‘No, sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to manage by yourselves. We’ve all to wait where we are until word is given us to move. Can’t come with you. Orders!’

  Orders had never yet kept Toddy in line. I knew he was only putting his master’s needs before ours, and loved him for it.

  ‘Well, that’s a pity. We could have done with your company, Tod. But never mind, hurry back and ask Mr Oliver to come and speak to me. Please?’ Kate almost pleaded.

  ‘I’ll do me best, ma’am, but I ain’t promisin’ nothin’. Like I say, ’e’s that difficult, and me askin’ ’im to do somethin’ don’t mean ’e’ll do it.’

  ‘We understand, but do try.’

  ‘Right!’ and Toddy was away without a word of farewell.

  He had not been gone five minutes when we were discovered by an officer whose duty it was to see that the Thug Gaol was vacated. He ordered us to prepare for departure.

  ‘But we are waiting for someone, to say goodbye!’ I protested frantically.

  ‘Can’t help that, young lady. You should be with the other families now, should have been an hour ago, matter of fact. You might get left behind.’

  ‘Oh, nonsense! I’ve seen what it is like up there. We’ll be ages waiting, and the noise and the dust will be bad for the baby.’

  ‘Come along now, miss. I’ve no time to waste. Your friend can find you on the parade ground. Mount up now, and a safe journey to you all.’

  We had already drawn straws to determine which of us would be the first to ride the horse and hold the baby, and Jessie had won.

  We pushed her up on to the saddle, tied our bundles to the pommel with string and bootlaces, and then handed her the child. It was the first time Jessie had been on a horse, but once up she sat as imperturbably as a figure on an equestrian statue, only her face, frozen into immobility by her novel situation, betraying her nervousness.

  I led the beast by the bridle. Kate, carrying her umbrella, brought up the rear. Slowly we walked down the alley away from the long low building.

  At first glance it seemed that none of the women could yet have left the entrenchment, so many of them still crowded the space before the Resident’s House, with their children, servants, possessions and conveyances. On looking down the slope through the Baillie Guard, however, I could see a long, interrupted straggle of carriages, litters and small parties on foot, making towards the far end of the extended perimeter.

  For more than an hour we waited in the midday sun, Jessie aloft, still as a statue, or as much so as the querulous baby would allow her to be, Kate and I losing energy by the moment as we tried to keep our positions near the horse, while the jostling throng pushed and heaved around us. How I wished I had drawn the shortest straw and sat where Jessie now sat, in a position to search the faces of the crowd. It was not hot; but anxiety, glare, dust and noise soon had me longing for the dim little kitchen in the Gaol, or if not that, then just to be moving at last. I knew that had Toddy managed to persuade Oliver to come to us, they would have found us on the parade ground without much difficulty. The fact that neither of them had appeared after this considerable length of time served only to heighten my disquiet.

  When Charles joined us, full of last-minute instructions and advice, I nodded dutifully, not really listening, my eyes scanning the restless crowd.

  We were to keep together, he said, whatever happened, to do exactly as we were told by the officers in charge of the route, and he would see us in the Dilkusha in a couple of days’ time.

  At last our names were called and we moved into line, Pearl crying, Jessie clutching the child with one hand, the pommel with the other, while I tugged the reins to make the horse move. Then, having gained our place in the motley procession, there was another long wait while the parties ahead of us moved down the slope, through the Baillie Guard and over the broken ground to the palaces, with a considerable pause between the departure of each.

  The last thing I remember, oddly enough, of the siege of Lucknow, is laughter.

  Inching our way forward in that dull forced patience which long expectation brings, I heard Kate’s youthful laughter as she stood, her arms akimbo, in the dusty sunlight and said in the intervals of her mirth, ‘Don Quixote! It’
s pure Cervantes! You, Laura, in your big straw hat are Sancho Panza to the life, Jess in her frozen, frightened dignity could well be the Crazy Knight, and the nag … but of course, the nag is the very ghost of Rosinante!’

  ‘Barry … Hewitt … MacGregor … Flood, infant. Forward!’

  We had reached the head of the column.

  ‘Jessie! It’s us. Kate, come on … come on … it’s us!’ Caught almost unawares, I was suddenly panic-stricken that we should not get away. I grabbed Rosinante’s bridle and hauled her forward at a trot, while Jessie screamed and clutched the pommel, and Kate ran after us, still laughing, and waving her umbrella in farewell.

  This time, at all events, and whatever might happen in the coming days, this time, for us, the Siege of Lucknow was over.

  CHAPTER 7

  There was no time for nostalgic farewells as we moved for the last time down the slope to the gate.

  Laughing at my anxiety, Charles ran up and took the reins from me, leading Rosinante through the Baillie Guard as I fell into step beside Kate, hurrying to keep up with the ungainly stride of the mare. A carriage pulled by two bare-ribbed hacks was so close behind us that I could feel their breath upon my neck if I slowed. While we had been waiting to move, a lucky pandy shell had ignited a ramp of earth-covered firewood forming part of the old defences, and billowing smoke mingled with the dust to dim the sunlight as we went. For a couple of seconds, passing beneath the arch of the gateway, we were in deep shadow; then, once again, we found ourselves in the yellow afternoon light, the dust, the smoke and the Baillie Guard behind us. A moment of darkness; a name we would never forget—a gateway that had led me to a life within my life. I remembered that as we had entered the entrenchment nearly five months before, Ishmial had knelt in the shadow of that arch and laid his forehead to the ground in prayer.

  Now the noise of the guns, both our own and those of the enemy, was thunderous, and we needed no urging to make haste. We moved over the stretch of torn ground that had once been no-man’s land between the pandies and ourselves, and veered to the left, skirting the high walls of the riverside palaces until the Tehri Kothi was behind us. Halfway along the wall of the Farhat Baksh, we entered a gateway, and then continued eastwards through a maze of alleys, courts and cloistered gardens. The Farhat Baksh had held the throne-room of the Nawabs of Oudh, but now the huge halls of the palace, visible through lofty, shattered windows, were a scene of utter ruin, and at every window and balcony our own armed and curious soldiery stood guard over our progress. A breach in tile-coped wall led us into the park of the Chathar Manzil, through more gardens, across wide lawns running down to the river, past pretty enclosures full of defaced statuary and marble pavilions picked out with jade, jasper and lapis lazuli.

  Progress was slow, for we were stopped often by mishaps suffered by those before us. A sudden thought occurred to me as we waited.

  ‘Charles, why isn’t Oliver with us? I mean, why hasn’t he left the entrenchment now, as others have? Oliver didn’t need to stay; he can’t even shoot a rifle, after all. Are you sure he hasn’t already set off?’

  ‘Quite sure. How can you doubt it? He wouldn’t be caught dead with the women and children, even if he’d lost both arms. Besides, he’s done pretty well with his pistol in the last few days. Toddy-Bob has been finding him ammo to practise with (illegally, naturally) and his aim is almost as good as it was. Last I saw of him, yesterday, he was sitting on a balcony near the Mess House, having a great time picking off pandies unwary enough to show themselves below him.’

  ‘Oh, Charles, no! I had no idea he was … he was fighting. I thought he was only in the mines.’

  ‘He’s all right, Laura.’ Charles showed his impatience at my concern by tugging Rosinante’s bridle so sharply that he nearly unseated Jessie. ‘He’s all right. By heavens, he’s managed to take care of himself pretty adequately so far; he’ll come to no harm now.’

  ‘If you see him, will you tell him I was disappointed at having to leave without speaking to him, and ask him to come to us directly he reaches the Dilkusha. Please?’

  ‘Very well. If I see him.’

  ‘Do try to, Charles, for my sake. And keep an eye on him. He is not yet himself.’

  ‘Very well. Now look, we are moving again, and I can only come as far as the perimeter with you. They are going to move the sick tonight, and there’ll be a lot for every man-jack of us to do. You’ll be receiving precise orders soon, and for heaven’s sake obey them—exactly! Above all, you are to be quiet, absolutely quiet. It’s imperative. Not a word or a laugh or a cry, and keep Pearl still, Jessie. Feed her again if it is necessary. Everything depends on your silence, not only for each of you but for all the others. Understand?’

  We promised in some bewilderment to do as he said. Why on earth should we be quiet? Who could hope to move such a disorganized body as we were in silence?

  ‘It will only be a couple of days before I join you,’ he went on. ‘You’ll be taken good care of, I’m sure, but if you should want for anything, enquire for Colonel Tucker. I have asked him to have a care for you. There’s no need to worry; the country is thick with our fellows now, but do be quiet until you reach the Sikander Bagh, where, by the way, you are to be fed.’

  Our way through the palace gardens had taken us through several breached walls, and now we approached another. The delays we encountered had generally been due to the gaps being too narrow for a loaded cart or carriage, and once again we saw a bullock-cart before us being unloaded so that it could be passed through the breach on its side, while soldiers hastily attacked the wall with picks and bayonets to widen the opening for those yet to follow.

  ‘This is as far as I may come,’ said Charles as we halted. He was obviously nervous despite his reassuring words, so I felt my nervousness grow in response. What were we about to encounter in the hostile world beyond the wall? Behind us the column had stopped and, though we had set out with considerable intervals between each party, now the long, interrupted line had been concertinaed by the frequent delays, and had become a heaving mêlée of animals, carriages and people. Everyone grumbled, of course. Irate heads were poked out of carriage windows to protest, anxious mothers tried surreptitiously to edge themselves and their offspring further forward in the line, while harassed soldiers tried to keep the column from disintegrating, by insisting that drivers stay in their seats and coolies not dispose of their loads while waiting. No one paid much attention to the politely impatient commands; very soon the spreading lawns were peopled with skinny coolies pulling imperturbably on their biris as they took their ease, while horses edged their vehicles in all directions to take a nibble at camellia hedges and flowerbeds, their drivers having joined the coolies.

  Finally the cart was manhandled through the gap in the wall, and we were ordered to move on. Charles kissed me on the cheek, clutched the baby’s hand in his for a moment, then stepped back to allow Rosinante to proceed.

  On the far side of the wall, a small group of officers awaited us, stopping each party in turn to issue instructions. We were told that our route would now take us through the outskirts of the city, following the river for a considerable portion of the way, to the Sikander Bagh. There we would be fed and would rest until nightfall, and then move on to the Dilkusha Palace under cover of darkness. We would be covered every inch of the way as we went, but were to remember that the enemy would always be within a very short distance of us as we walked. The guns of the Residency, the Shannon’s guns at the Kaiser Bagh, and other artillery brought up by Sir Colin Campbell, were harrying the pandies at every point possible to deflect their attention from what was taking place under their noses, but we were never to forget that, though out of the Residency, we were still under fire—constantly. So far the pandies had no idea of the evacuation, and it was imperative that they remain in ignorance of it until our escape was complete—a matter of several hours at least. To this end, we were to be as silent as possible, obey all further instructions immediately and i
mplicitly, and endeavour to keep with our own parties and in our proper place in the column. We would encounter several points on the route which were especially hazardous. At these, we must wait until signalled to proceed, dismounting, stooping or crawling as instructed. The officers wished us luck.

  I was still bewildered. A straggling circus of excited women and overwrought children, coolies, animals, soldiers and conveyances could hardly remain hidden from the pandies in broad daylight for very long, particularly since the dust rising above us must indicate that some considerable body was in movement.

  However, we fell into position and set off, I prodding Rosinante with Kate’s green-lined umbrella, for she was more than a little reluctant to put one foot before the other.

  From the final breach in the perimeter onwards we continued our way, guarded by an extended picket of soldiers, weapons ready bayoneted, who stood within a few yards of each other in an unbroken line for the length of our route. On the flat roofs crowning the tall, blank-faced houses, crouched behind balustrades and chimneystacks, further uniformed figures glanced down at us briefly as we passed, while officers on horseback patrolled the road, motioning us forward, halting us, directing us and exhorting us to silence. Brightly plaided Highlanders, blue-smocked ‘Shannons’, tall, bearded Sikhs, stocky pug-nosed Irishmen, all alike in their tense alertness, as eyes moved watchfully over the rooftops, windows and balconies, and flicked only briefly over the bedraggled cavalcade they guarded.

  We had entered a network of narrow roads and laneways cutting through the usual agglomeration of high native houses, walled courtyards and open-fronted shops, all cleared in the battles of the previous two days, but still ground of contention between the pandies and our own men. Rifle and musket fire was continuous and heavy, sometimes from only the breadth of a house away, while from over the river the enemy’s heavy guns belched their cargoes of death high over our heads towards the entrenchment. Often the high buildings petered out in low, thatched slum shacks, or were interrupted by the paved and guttered square of a deserted bazaar, leaving our route open to the river or the city. In such places screens of bamboo and sacking had been erected to foil hostile eyes, while in other sections trenches had been dug, along which we were required to walk or crawl, while baggage carts and animals took their chances above us.