A Parade Of Virtue (A Poor Man At The Gate Series Book 9)

by Andrew Wareham

  "Not unless he floats into the hands of one of those swamp voodoo men, sir - he might make a nasty zombie."

  "I think we can chance that, Mitch. Now then, there is a man of ours in every public office, as you know, a senior clerk who will do the actual business that the Governor demands. Keep them honest, Mitch."

  Mitch nodded - the usual mixture of a little intimidation and a lot of bribery would suffice. They needed be frightened to an extent, so that they would take no other man's bribes, but it was better to be strong on generosity.

  "You may rely on me, sir."

  "I do. Call me 'Ti Henry' in future, Mitch. It's embarrassing as a name, but it serves a purpose, tells others your position."

  "I had wondered, in fact, why you put up with it. 'Ti Henry', indeed! But, as you say, it states a claim in itself. I wonder if it will be 'Ti Mitch' in a few years?"

  "I hope so, because that will be a sign of your success - and my profit!"

  "Continue to build up the trade in guns, sir?"

  "Very much so, Mitch. The number of settlers is set to grow, very rapidly, I suspect, and as they go further West so their need for firearms must increase. Trading posts along the river, and moving into the new towns as they grow and consolidate themselves. Powder and ball; rifles, scatter guns, hand guns; bar lead and bullet moulds - the call for them will be unending. Good quality as well. I will pay a few calls in Birmingham while I am in England and will organise contracts for cheap but reliable working pieces by the tens of thousands. Long rifles for marksmen are better procured in the States - send letters to the most likely manufacturers, Hawken and the other, smaller men, and see if you can tie them into contracts for regular deliveries. As for powder, it might be as well to set up our own mill, upriver from New Orleans - too wet and sticky here. Contracts for saltpetre from India and for sulphur could be arranged, and we could burn our own charcoal from the hardwood forests. Where would we get hold of brimstone, Mitch?"

  "No idea, Ti Henry! From volcanoes, I should imagine. I will find out."

  It was the right answer, confirmed him in his decision.

  "The rest will be yours to decide, Mitch."

  "What have you in mind for the future, Ti Henry?"

  "Oh, this and that... I think maybe to claim a little bit of cattle land in the west, when the chance arises. Possibly give some thought to haulage - there will be a need for wagons, I should think. All of it a distance to the north, Mitch. This place is getting silly, I feel - too much of gentry, not enough of solid wealth. Twenty years from now, maybe as much as fifty, and there will be a sudden, hard end to it all, and a lot of bills to pay - but not for me and mine, Mitch! What I have made is my own, and will stay that way. I was born into money, Mitch, but as a younger son, inheriting almost nothing but used to living high off the hog, so I need my own riches. We are going to stay comfortable, Mitch, though the rest of the South goes to Hell in a hand-basket, as they say."

  It had not occurred to Mitch that there was no future in the Southern States - on the surface all appeared to be stable and rich, a society of wealth and privilege well able to take care of itself.

  "Where is the army, Mitch? Where are the manufacturies? We grow cotton and sugar and tobacco and rice, and sell at a good price. To do that we must have buyers - we will be in trouble if the day ever comes that we must eat our own cotton! There is no balance, Mitch, and that means that one day the scales will tilt the wrong way. One hundred years ago and France was the great power of Europe. The Ottoman Empire was the most powerful state on Earth. What are they today? What may we be tomorrow? Nothing lasts for all eternity, Mitch, and the man who wishes to remain rich must remember that."

  Major Wolverstone could not settle down to the business life - it was pointless, he had no reason to increase his wealth.

  He went through the forms of attending the office, of looking for trade, and often finding it, but his heart was not there. He wondered whether he might not be better to give it up, to cash in for whatever price he could get and return to England, at least removing himself from the scene of his troubles. He drank too much in the lonely evenings.

  A message from the Governor, an interview, offered him release.

  "I need you, Major Wolverstone, in your original capacity, sir. The cholera took the most appalling toll of us, as you know, to your great misfortune; but also in the sepoy regiments as well as the King's soldiers. There is unrest inland as a result - Pindaris, Marathas, call them what you will - bloody bandits, I say - raiding the villages, destroying crops, stealing our taxes, killing our people. Swarms of them, sometimes thousands of light horse together, and needing a military response, not a police action. I can scrape together amalgamated regiments of lancers and dragoons to chase after them, but I cannot find officers enough to maintain garrisons and take the field. Twelve months and there will be new men out from the Company training college at Addiscombe, and England generally, but if I delay a year then there will be nothing other than burned wasteland to welcome them."

  "Where can I serve, sir?"

  "Good man! In the field, where you have shone in the past, sir. Company's commission as lieutenant-colonel, pro tem, brevet you might say, with seniority appropriate to the rank but with the expectation of an appointment lasting no more than two years. Full pay, and perquisites, I insisted on that - none of this 'volunteer' nonsense. In the short run, I would look for you to take a regiment under your command and to clear up where necessary. When possible, and when we have the information - which is in hand, I would add - then we locate the main body and hunt them down, horse, foot and gun. A king's officer as brigadier would be my intention, as we would need a strong field artillery presence to balance out their numbers."

  The sepoy regiments had only limited access to big guns, to keep them free from temptation.

  "I will need three days, sir, to hand over to my local subordinates. There are no Englishmen left to me and I must use my babus, who have shown the greatest loyalty, I might add. I intend in future, in any case, to offer them higher pay and much more responsibility, despite the moans of John Company."

  The Governor winced - most of those moans would come to him first.

  "Can they be trusted, Major?"

  "To pursue their own interests, certainly, sir. I will protect them as they grow rich, knowing that they will not kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. I will not lose money, and they will grow far better off than they are now. I have already begun to encourage my senior man to appoint members of his own family to vacancies in the firms, to make my interests synonymous with his, in effect. I have heard of at least one firm that sold out to an Indian consortium, sir - perhaps mine will be another in a few years. India is just too big for us to subjugate, sir - we must build a grouping of the middle order of people who see us as their protectors and will do the rest for us."

  "Perhaps, Major - but not just yet, I suspect. At the end of the week then, sir, I will look for you to take command of your people and start to work them up into an effective force. The sooner you are in the field, the happier I shall be."

  The Governor was concerned to deal with the running of Bombay, where he might remain for life - high policy could rest in the hands of the Governor-General, a politico out of England for five or seven years and intending to return to office at home.

  Wolverstone joined his command in two days, dumping everything into the very willing hands of his senior clerk.

  "You know the business, Mr Patel. Build it up, keep it profitable, and at the end of one year I shall pay you a bonus of not less than five parts in the hundred of the surplus you put in my hands. If you then do better, the next year will see six parts to you, and the following seven - that to continue for ten years, growing each year. You understand?"

  Patel shook his head in amaze - these were riches.

  "I am to become a nabob, sahib - but must keep it very quiet, for I could be killed for possession of such wealth, so out of place for one such as me."

&nb
sp; "Place your excess in the hands of Mr Mostyn, who will say nothing to any man, and in twenty years take ship to another land where you can be rich in safety."

  "I shall go to England, sahib! Telling every man that I have been many years in the hot sun and so my face is brown!"

  They laughed, but it was not an impossible dream - wealth made any man free to be anything.

  Wolverstone paraded his command on the morning after he joined, to get an idea of the task facing him.

  Bombay Light Horse and Poona Horse, attenuated lines of troopers together making less than one regiment before the epidemic. There were senior NCOs in plenty - the old, salted men had survived where youngsters had succumbed. A quick count said four hundred lances in a dozen troops.

  The men were well together, properly turned out, but too few.

  One English captain, an old man as so often in the Company forces - nearly forty years of age, lacking the fire and dash a subaltern should have.

  Just two lieutenants, both convalescent rather than fit and well. A single cornet, recently out of England and, amazingly, untouched by the fever, possessed of a natural immunity it would seem.

  There were four risaldars, Indian officers of cavalry whose status was debatable, the Company having no love for the idea of native 'officers and gentlemen'. They must eventually be given greater responsibility - there was no alternative. He called the English officers together.

  "There are far too few of us, gentlemen, and that will be so for a year before more men can come out from England. We cannot wait for them to arrive - we must suppress this outbreak of banditry, and quickly. The feeling is that the Marathas are testing the water - discovering whether they might rise again or must keep to their peace treaty. Given free rein for a year and they will be back in the field, forty or fifty thousand strong; slapped down now, hard, and they may never rise again. We must, therefore, march immediately."

  "We are too few for the purpose, sir. I must protest!"

  "Your protest is noted, Captain Allardyce. If you feel unable to accompany the regiment, due to ill-health, then you must stay in the barracks. If you are to remain as my second, sir, then I will expect your most enthusiastic cooperation."

  To stay in the barracks would mean the end of his career - he would soon find himself invalided out, pushed sideways into a backwater elsewhere in the Company, probably as a Collector in a fever-ridden hole in the jungle. If he rode out then he would be following a man who had made a reputation as a fighting hero, one who would take the wildest of risks.

  "Thank you, sir, for your understanding. I do not believe myself to be fully recovered, indeed, I might become a liability in the field. I shall report myself to the doctor, sir."

  Better to live as a Collector in the back of nowhere then to die fighting a foe renowned for ruthless savagery.

  "Lieutenant Naismith, I believe you to be senior?"

  Naismith agreed that he was, accepted that he must be second in the regiment.

  The Company armies promoted exclusively by seniority, but it was possible to hold paid acting rank, and young and able men could find themselves posted to irregular or auxiliary units or even to places of command in the forces of the semi-independent and friendly Indian states. Naismith, if he lived, could gain great advantage from a successful campaign.

  "Good! Lieutenant Nash, I believe you are relatively new in your rank?"

  Nash had transferred from a King's regiment to the Company Army only a few weeks before. It was a common course for poor officers - in the financial sense; the Company paid more and demanded far lower mess fees than any King's regiment of cavalry. It was easily possible for an officer to live on his pay in the Company's service. Nash had been in India for less than a year when he had received a letter from his older brother to inform him that their father had died and that he no longer possessed a private income - his brother 'could not afford the charge', he regretted.

  "I am new in my rank, Colonel, but I assure you that I am capable of leading a squadron, sir."

  "Well said, sir! It is my intention to organise our people into six troops of sixty to seventy men apiece. Mr Naismith, you will command half, the rest will follow me, if we ever need to divide our forces. It is my intention to harry the bandits, to keep them moving and eventually to chase them into the way of the infantry and artillery who will also be marching out. They cannot be caught other than by us, gentlemen. If we can pin them against a river, or push them against some other natural obstacle, then they can be pounded into submission. As they will greatly outnumber us, gentlemen, we must take some care to ensure that they do not turn the tables!"

  The officers frowned - they knew too little of Wolverstone's abilities to have unthinking faith in him, could only hope that his reputation was based on solid achievement, and that he had not become slack in the dozen years since last he had taken the field.

  "Organise your people tomorrow, gentlemen. Ensure that there is a balance of non-commissioned officers. Arrange for rations and check horses for fitness. I intend to march in two days, gentlemen."

  The problem was, where to march to?

  There was small point in proceeding to the scene of the last attack - the marauders were the lightest of horse, could be fifty miles distant by the time the Company's forces arrived.

  Wolverstone had studied his map, noted exactly where the depredations had occurred and discovered no geographical pattern at all - the attacks had seemingly taken place at random.

  He sought help, going back to his own offices and consulting with his manager.

  "It is quite clear, Sahib Wolverstone, sir. Each of these villages is the place of Moslem people. Not that 'people' is the word for such, sahib. The 'raiders', if such be what you wish them to be called, are very obviously good Hindus seeking to clear our soil of the invaders."

  "Did not the Moslem invasion take place some three hundred years ago, Patel?"

  "It did indeed, sahib, a wickedness not to be forgotten!"

  "Then they are working their way from the south towards the north and east, you believe?"

  "They are indeed, sahib. From your map, it is clear beyond doubt that they will be here today." He pointed to a group of villages to the north of Vada, a hundred or so miles away. "Those will take them two days or three to 'polish off', as the sahibs say. They will take their time to discover the grain stores and hidden gold, thinking that they are quite safe from punishment, not knowing of the forces to be unleashed upon them. Then, Sahib Wolverstone, it is my belief that they will push towards the sea, where there are known to be rich villages from which trading dhows sail to the north, often carrying slaves, a cargo of much profit."

  The aims of the raiders were an open secret, it seemed, known to all except the sahibs, the lords of Bombay as they styled themselves. Wolverstone made his way to the Governor.

  "Not Pindaris or Marathas, you say, sir."

  "Not as such, sir. I suspect that the actual men themselves, and certainly their leaders, rode as Marathas in the past, and might easily arise as such again. For the while, they are religious zealots, sir, and applauded by the great mass of the Hindus."

  "Will they do more than clap their hands, one wonders?"

  "If the current unrest is brought to a sudden, vigorous end, sir, then probably not. If we do not take action then the Christians may well be next on the list."

  The Bombay Marine was alerted and half a dozen country ships, locally built and belonging to British merchants rather than the Company, were forcibly chartered. Two battalions of infantry and four batteries of field artillery were put aboard that evening, to sail at dawn and garrison the coastal villages.

  Wolverstone led his regiment out in the early hours, intending to make a distance in the cool of the day. He followed the tracks north, close to the sea where he could receive messages from the infantry.

  On the third day he was told that the enemy had attacked, at least six thousand strong but totally unsuspecting. A thousand, or a few less, of in
fantry behind mud walls and with artillery support would expect no difficulty in holding against such odds, and dealing out sufficient damage to throw them back in disorder. Wolverstone's task changed to that of harrying the defeated attackers, to breaking them up into small, disorganised elements who would rather go home than reform as an army.

  "Troops to spread out, Mr Naismith. Remain in sight of each other but cover as much country as possible. Attack small groups without further order. A rocket if there is a need for reinforcement to deal with any concentration."

  They began to meet the broken horse that afternoon, much to the bandits' dismay.

  Wolverstone discovered that he still possessed all of the old skills of horse and sabre, leading his troop into charge after charge, sixty sowars strong, lances levelled against unorganised mobs of twenty or thirty dispirited irregulars. He knew what had happened in the villages they had attacked, had seen the broken corpses of women and children and had not the slightest pity or inclination towards mercy.

  Towards evening a rocket flared in the distance and he led his troop towards it. Cresting a rise he found Naismith and his sixty engaged in a sprawling brawl with some hundreds of raiders.

  "Over there, sir!"

  The cornet, whose sole function so far had been to bloody his sword and turn green, pointed to a group of richly dressed officers riding blood horses, bigger and more handsome than the ponies of the men they led.

  "The opportunity to cut the head off should never be missed, Cornet Cholmondeley."

  Wolverstone turned in his saddle, gave the arm signal to form line on his left, waited a couple of minutes, then called the men to the walk march, holding them firmly together.

  "Slowly on the slope, Cornet Cholmondeley - never wise to risk a fall."

  A quarter of a mile out from the melee and they were seen, an attempt was made to form a rank against them.

  "Charge! Trumpeter!"

  The irregulars lacked the discipline to face a charge despite having the numbers. They knew that the Company had defeated them time and again, did not believe that they could do any better than before. They broke, very few actually going down to the lances. Their leaders, suddenly vulnerable, decided to attempt to surrender, unaware, it seemed, that to do so in the middle of a charge is very impractical. A lancer on a galloping horse is in no position to offer the courtesies of war and none of the officers survived the onslaught, Wolverstone getting into the middle of them, his orderly at his back.