“Why, miss, would you have me let him go free? I would shoot him as I would a mad dog.”
“But, sir, a mad dog could not shoot my papa. Why give this miscreant the chance of doing further harm?”
“Would you have me shoot him from behind a wall, miss? Or do you wish all our family affairs spread out for the gossips of Calcutta to feast upon by a trial at the law? No, leave these matters to me, and go to bed again. You may be thankful I took it into my head to sit up to-night, for thepykewas bribed.”
“I am, dear sir, I am indeed!” I cried out, but my papa bade me curb my gratitude and go to bed. And this I did, but my Amelia will guess that there was vastly little sleep for me in the rest of the night, what with thinking of my narrow escape and of Mr Freyne’s projected duel, and endeavouring to frame such affecting arguments as might induce my papa to leave the wretched Menotti to the torments of his own conscience. But I had not the chance I anticipated to display my logical acuteness, for as soon as I had joined Mr Freyne for early breakfast, there came out on the varanda my stepmother’s iya, Bowanny, and said that her mistress had been sobbing and crying all night, and now begged that we would both attend her to hear what she had to tell us. I was prodigiously astonished by such a request, but Mr Freyne seemed in no way surprised, and strode off to his lady’s bedchamber without a word. We found Mrs Freyne, still in the undress she had worn the night before, reclined on a couch, with her hair all tumbled about, and no cap on.
“You see before you, sir,” she said, “the most miserable woman in India.”
Mr Freyne. I fancy, madam, I heard you say something of the same sort last night.
Mrs F. Cruel and hard-hearted man! Would you make the way of penitence as hard to your unhappy wife by your coldness and harshness as you have made the way of concealment easy? But, no; I won’t be led into unbecoming recrimination even by your ill-timed derision, sir. I have sent for you that I may confess the steps by which, as a young and ingenuous creature slighted by her spouse, I was led into inexpedient acts through the arts of an accomplished villain.
Mr F. (excessively angry). Pray, proceed, madam, but if you are confessing your own sins you may as well leave mine alone. ’Tis scarce your part to complain of neglect.
Mrs F. In spite of your unmanly taunts, sir, I’ll strive to preserve both my purpose and my calmness, remembering that I asked your daughter to attend you merely to show that I had nothing in my confession of which to be ashamed. You thought fit, sir, some short time after our marriage, to place a restriction on my diversions, desiring me never to play games of chance for any but beggarly sums. You had reasons for thus limiting me, you said. I didn’t ask ’em then, and I don’t now, but I suppose you feared I might dissipate the money I brought you. Well, sir, you must have known that if you would not oblige me with the means of play, others would, and I felt little difficulty in accepting their kindness. The chief of these obliging persons was Mr Menotti.
Mr F. Woman! is this true that you tell me?
Mrs F. (with her handkerchief to her eyes). No unkind rudeness shall hinder me from confessing the truth. The gentleman whose name so disturbs you, sir, obliged me at various times with sums of money, professing himself amply repaid by my countenance and conversation, possibly also by his persistent good fortune at the cards. But when your daughter arrived from home, I perceived a change in him. He began to hint at a certain means of discharging the debt of gratitude I owed him, and I demanded of him eagerly what it might be. You know it now as well as I. The fool was fallen in love with Miss—but why, I know no more than why she persists in refusing him. The match was an extraordinary good one for her, far better than any she could have looked for in England, and I experienced a glow of satisfaction in thus discharging in the most exemplary style my duties to you, sir, to your girl, and to the gentleman to whom I was so much indebted. Your conscience, sir, will tell you, and so will your daughter’s tell her, that I did all in my power to bring about the happy consummation which has all along been frustrated by your fatal easiness and softness of temper, and the pert wilfulness of Miss—
Mr F. Aye, madam, all in your power—I’ll grant you that.
Mrs F. I thank you, sir. At least, then, I need not reproach myself with my unhappy failure here. It happened, alas! that Mr Menotti was disturbed by the appearance of two other suitors for his charmer’s favour—the Fraser fellow upon whom Miss’s inconstant fancy is fixed for the moment, and him whom you call the Unknown—and the balance of the poor gentleman’s judgment was unsettled. Not knowing his true friend, he went so far as to turn his resentment against me. Had he but confided in the purity of my motives, all had been well, but he saw fit to attempt to increase his influence over me by means of threats. He had learned, he said, from my conversation, certain important matters of the Company’s, which I must have heard from you, sir, and these facts, dropped innocently by me, he had made use of to ingratiate himself with the Chuta Nabob, with whom he had had friendly relations for some time.
Mr F. (bitterly). In other words, the fellow is and always has been one of Surajah Dowlah’s spies, and my wife’s another of ’em.
Mrs F. I am resolved, Mr Freyne, to bear with patience all your injurious remarks until you have heard me out. If I had not felt it possible to confide to you the difficulties I was in about money, you’ll guess that I could not endure the thought of your becoming sensible of the new and shocking trouble into which my easiness of temper had led me, and ’twas this Menotti threatened me with when he saw his hopes in danger. But when he discovered the renewed assiduities of the Unknown by that letter he intercepted in the hands of Omy Chund’s peon, the current of his thoughts was changed again, and he proposed a settlement at once so charming and so honourable that I could not but accept it. The poor man was much upset to find the Unknown plotting against him in a matter in which his heart was so deeply engaged——
Mr F. And who, pray, is the Unknown, madam? for he en’t unknown to you.
Mrs F. Why, sir, he’s no other than the Nabob’s Frenchman, Sinzaun.
Mr F. And my wife knew our subtlest enemy to be in the place, meditating dishonour to my daughter, and destruction to the factory, and never——
Mrs F. And never warned you, you would say, sir? No, indeed; where was the need of making a fuss and pother when things could be managed in a way vastly more agreeable to all parties? Finding, I say, that Sinzaun was working against him in the matter of Miss, and knowing that he had the ear of the Nabob, Menotti conceived the plan of atoning nobly for his former errors. He promised me that if my efforts to marry him to Miss should be successful, he would not only keep silence on the matter of the money and of my incautious admissions to him, but he would reveal to the Presidency all his dealings with the Nabob, and assist ’em to lay their hands upon Sinzaun, thus frustrating all Surajah Dowlah’s monstrous schemes against the town. Could I hesitate in such a case? Would Mr Freyne have me weigh a young creature’s silly likes and dislikes against the safety of the whole factory, and the lives of all the Britons in Bengall? Your wife en’t such a sentimental fool, sir. I did my best to pleasure Menotti, and I en’t ashamed of it.
Mr F. And your design in telling me this, madam?
Mrs F. Why, sir, now that Menotti is defeated, I know he won’t scruple to tell you a parcel of lies about me, and I desire to be beforehand with him.
Mr F. You desire me to proclaim to the Council, and so to all Calcutta, the iniquitous behaviour of my wife, madam?
Mrs F. (weeping). Indeed, Mr Freyne, you’re cruelly hard. I would have you catch Menotti red-handed, so as no one will give any credit to his tales. I know (for I’ve made it my business to find out, that I might have some hold over him) that when he pleads indisposition as an excuse for absence from church on a Sunday morning, he goes disguised into the wood beyond Baugbuzar, and there receives messages from the Nabob through Monickchund the Governor of Hoogly. If you catch him to-day in the act, we’re safe. Had he succeeded in his last night’s design on Miss, he would have delivered up thehircara[08]that brings the messages to the President, as a proof of his good faith, but now that he has made an open enemy in you he’ll think his only hope of her lies in the Nabob.
Mr F. I’ll send a chitt to Mr Holwell. And now, madam, and you, miss, no more of this shameful matter. I think I have sufficient credit in the place for the Council to help me in preserving the honour of my family if it’s possible to do so, but if not, then the shame is hers that first tells a word of the tale. Your debt to Mr Menotti, madam, shall be discharged, if you’ll oblige me with the particulars.
Mrs F. I’m sure, sir, my maiden-money will far more than suffice——
Mr F. That, madam, you were careful to dissipate in your first year of married life. You had play-debts to be paid then also, if you’ll remember.
Mrs F. I vow, sir, you’re monstrous unkind!
My papa stayed to hear no more, and I followed him from the chamber, only to discover that he felt the strongest repugnance to denouncing Mr Menotti to the Presidency. “I had the fellow in my power last night, and let him go,” he said, “but now, instead of avenging my own quarrel on him, I set the law on his track, for all the world as though I feared to meet him.” In this style he continued to combat all my arguments, until I was frightened to death that he would propose to fight the wretch before laying an information against him, but at last he yielded to my representation of the inexpediency of exposing the entire factory to destruction for the sake of a piece of punctilio, and went to write his letter.
Oh, my Amelia, what a dreadful burden must Mrs Freyne have been bearing during all these months, while all the time your naughty Sylvia was judging her with an unkindness that I can’t doubt has often aroused your disapproval! Is it any wonder that she has appeared peevish and difficult? How all the reports concerning the Soubah’s designs must have startled her, knowing that his excesses might be encouraged by the repeating her unguarded words! Could any assembly of motives have been so strong as the desire to save her own reputation, not only in the eyes of Calcutta, but in those of her spouse, and to deliver the whole factory from destruction? One can’t feel surprised that your poor Sylvia’s preferences weighed but lightly in the opposite balance. But what a Sabbath was this, my dear, beginning in so awful a manner, for Mrs Freyne, for your unhappy girl and her honoured papa, and for the wretched Menotti! There was rumours when we came out of church that Cossimbuzar was fallen, in spite of the submission of our rulers, but this is not confirmed. Still, the President ordered on the spot a report of the defences of Fort William to be made and laid before him to-morrow.
June ye8th.
Oh, my dear, Cossimbuzar is fallen without striking a blow, and if all be true that we hear, Surajah Dowlah is already marching on Calcutta! Mr Dash came in just after I had finished writing to you this morning, and related the dreadful history to my papa, as he had heard it from being in the vicinity of the council-chamber when the letters arrived. On the 1st of this month, the very day that our rulers despatched their humiliatingarasdassfrom Calcutta, the Nabob sent three Jemindars and Radjbullobdass, the father of Kissendasseat, to hold a parley with Mr Watts, who told them, in spite of the objections of his own officers, that he would trust himself with them if the Nabob would send him a beetle. This is with the Indians a sign of ceremony and friendship, for they wrap this beetle, which is calledpawn,[01]in some sort of leaves, and chew it. I don’t doubt but my Amelia, on hearing of this disgusting custom, will unite with me in thinking that to polite minds it would be more agreeable to dispense with both the sign and the friendship. However, the beetle was sent on a silver plate, and Mr Watts, following the meek example of our Council here, humbled himself so far as to enter the Soubah’s presence with his hands across and tied round with apuckery,[02]which is the strip of stuff that the Moors twist into their turbants. That Surajah Dowlah was not to be disarmed by this show of humility the poor gentleman quickly discovered, for he was at once threatened with death for his offering such a hardy resistance, and was only saved by the mediation of the son of theduanHuckembeg, who told the Nabob that Mr Watts was a good sort of a man, that was come at great peril to embrace his footsteps. Whether ’twas the threats or the mediation I don’t know, but Mr Watts was so strangely affected that he forthwith signed amulchilca,[03]which is an instrument enforced by a penalty, by which he not only surrendered his own factory of Cossimbuzar, but also pledged the Council here to demolish their fortifications, as well the old as the new, within a fortnight, to give up those of the Nabob’s subjects they were protecting against him, and to resign the privileges anciently granted to the Company with respect todussticksby making good the losses the Soubah had sustained through them. Seeing their chief in the enemy’s power, the garrison of Cossimbuzar felt constrained to fulfil his covenant, and admitted the Moorish army, who treated the unhappy gentlemen with such detestable cruelty that Ensign Elliott, who commanded the military, shot himself in a frenzy of shame. May Heaven pardon the poor man this rash act! Alas, there may be others that will need the same pardon before very long.
Momentous though this news be, ’twas not all that Mr Dash had to tell. Lowering his voice, he asked Mr Freyne with an air of becoming reserve whether it was true that a gentleman of this place had been detected in supplying information to the Nabob. To this my papa replied that he had often heard hints to the effect that some such treachery must be at work, but he had received no word of its having been brought home to any one in particular; and the young gentleman went away disappointed. Shortly after his departure we heard a great beating of drums from the direction of the Fort, which threw me into a prodigious fright lest the Soubah’s army should be already approaching the town. But Mr Freyne sending out one of the servants to ask what might be the cause of the noise, we learned that the President, who, it appears, has at length mustered courage to offer a resistance to the demands of the Nabob, was summoning all the inhabitants to the Esplanade[04]before the Fort, in order to concert measures for defence. Upon this Mr Freyne ordered his chaise, and while arming himself with sword and pistols, was so good as to offer to carry me with him to see the muster, if I chose. My Amelia will guess that I flew to change my gown at once, for I felt an extraordinary anxiety to see how the Council would bear themselves in this alarming situation; but fastened to my pincushion I discovered something that diverted the course of my thoughts altogether. It was a billet like that I had found on my table before, but folded smaller, and superscribed “Lewis to Clarissa” in French. Inside it was wrote, also in French:—
“It is with the most poignant anguish that the unhappy lover quits the vicinity of the coldest and most charming of women, to whom he has ventured to offer the incense of his unavailing adoration. When a more propitious fate shall place him next at the feet of his goddess, it may be that apprehension for her own safety may serve better to melt Clarissa’s icy heart than pity for her slave has succeeded in doing, and that she’ll see fit to grant him those tokens of her favour which his humble passion has never ceased to entreat.”
“It is with the most poignant anguish that the unhappy lover quits the vicinity of the coldest and most charming of women, to whom he has ventured to offer the incense of his unavailing adoration. When a more propitious fate shall place him next at the feet of his goddess, it may be that apprehension for her own safety may serve better to melt Clarissa’s icy heart than pity for her slave has succeeded in doing, and that she’ll see fit to grant him those tokens of her favour which his humble passion has never ceased to entreat.”
The menacing style of this message filled me with alarm, but remembering that the writer announced his departure, and that ’twas possible he might never return, I took courage after a moment. Otherwise, I could not but feel apprehensive in the extreme to discover that the person whom Mrs Freyne had revealed as the apostate Sinzaun should still be seeking to enter into communications with me. This Sinzaun, I must inform my dear girl, is a most notorious renegade Frenchman, who is not only a trusted leader of the Nabob’s army, having the management of his train of artillery, but also the vilest of his boon companions in time of peace. His skill had not been needed in the Cossimbuzar matter, but now he was questionless returned to lead his master’s forces against Calcutta. I carried the wretch’s billet to my papa, who read it with great anger; and I ventured to put a question that had troubled me more than once since the day before.
“Had you been sensible, dear sir, who the bold enquirer was that demanded your daughter, and known that he had, as he claimed, the power to save the factory from the Soubah’s vengeance, would you have chose to oblige him?”
“I’m afraid,” says my dear papa, “that my Sylvia Freyne believes me either a coward or a fool. Even had I been base enough to deliver up my daughter to the ruffian’s demands, what security have I that the rogue would keep his word, and not take the girl first and the place afterwards?”
This view of the matter had not occurred to me, and I’ll own that it relieved me from the apprehension I had felt that it might be my duty to sacrifice myself for the safety of Calcutta. Not, my dear, that I had clearly faced the possible necessity of such a shocking act, for I would not have you think me more heroical than I am, but that the dreadful notion had crossed my mind and reduced me almost to despair. Well, my papa and I rode to the Fort, and heard what Mr President had to say of the unexampled ingratitude and perfidy of the Nabob, and of the certainty that he and his army would be speedily crushed by the valour and readiness of the inhabitants of Calcutta. The five captains of the troops had given it as their opinion in writing that there was in the place an abundance both of arms, ammunition, and provisions, and a plan had been drawn out for constructing such additional defences as might reasonably be completed in a few days. But it was necessary that there should be men behind the defences, and therefore his honour trusted that every inhabitant of the place that was fit to bear arms would enrol himself immediately in the militia, and give unremitting attention to his drill until he was called upon to practise in war what he had been taught. This discourse of the President’s was very well received, though with less of excitement, I fancy, than he had anticipated; and all of the male sex present, gentlemen and common persons and Armenians and To-passes alike, made haste to give their names to those who were about to enrol ’em. It was now too late to do any more that evening, and after appointing a meeting of the new-raised militia for this morning, on the green to the south of the Fort, that they might begin to be instructed in their weapons, every one returned home.
The ordinary business of the place being quite at a standstill, Mr Freyne betook himself to-day after the early meal to the Park instead of hisdufterconna, and brought home with him to breakfast Captain Colquhoun and Mr Holwell, who were deputed to ride to Perrins Gardens and see what might be done to restore the redoubt there, which was so foolishly dismantled in the panic of last week. Mrs Freyne pleading indisposition as an excuse for her absence, I was set in her place at the head of the table, and found that the gentlemen were not in the highest of spirits.
“I could scarce believe my ears, Captain,” says my papa, “when I heard that you had signed the assurance given by your comrades of our sufficiency of munitions.”
“You can’t blame me more than I blame myself, sir,” said the Captain. “’Twas an unpardonable piece of confidence in me to take Captain Minchin’s word for the amount of the stores, without regarding their quality and condition.”
“Then you are satisfied as to the quantities mentioned, Captain?”
“By no means, sir. When my suspicions were first roused after signing the assurance, and I asked of Captain Minchin how he had prevailed upon Captain Witherington to make his returns so promptly, he told me with the greatest coolness in the world that Witherington had failed to send in any accounts at all, so that he himself had done his best to estimate what we ought to have in hand, and had assured us of possessing it.”
“Witherington ought to be hanged!” says Mr Freyne.
“Indeed, sir,” says Mr Holwell, “the poor gentleman is a most laborious, active creature. It en’t his fault that his intellects are confused by all these sudden events. With a commander that would keep an eye on him, and see that he did his duty, we should have in him an excellent good officer.”
“We don’t possess such a commander in Mr Drake,” said the Captain, “for Witherington finds all his complaints allowed, and en’t forced to do anything. Captain Minchin assured me that when he represented to the President the danger of leaving the whole charge of the Train in the care of such a man, all the answer he received was that Witherington was such a strange unaccountable creature that his honour could do nothing with him.”
“Yet the fellow makes more noise and bustle about doing nothing than the Council themselves,” said my papa. “So you have examined the stores, Captain?”
“I have, sir, if indeed they’re worthy to be called stores. There’s but three hundred and fifty barrels of powder, and the most of that bad, no bombs nor grenadoes, except a few spoiled shells that will do more damage to us than the enemy; the grape is all eaten up with worms, and there’s no cartridges ready.”
“And the guns,” says Mr Holwell, “are still without carriages, and the embrasures broken down, while any gunner that’s fool enough to try to work his piece on the Fort walls will go through the roof into the chambers below.”
“And our army of defence,” says the Captain, “with no disrespect to either of you, gentlemen, is a fit match for its weapons. With a garrison of less than two hundred, counting the officers, and of which not ten of the rank and file have seen any war service, we may be thankful if we can hold out for a single day.”
“Come,” says my papa, “think of Colonel Clive’s achievements with a force near as bad, and of your own experience in the Carnatic, sir.”
“Ah, sir, here we lack Colonel Clive. And I am not (though it shame me to say it) the man to take his place. If the President had broke Captain Minchin as he had designed doing, and placed Captains Clayton and Witherington in some such subordinate situation as befits their lack of military experience and judgment, maybe Captain Grant and your humble servant might have made shift to show a good front to the enemy, but with five persons in equal military authority, and his honour and the Council interfering perpetually in matters which are none of their province, the thing is hopeless.”
“But sure, sir,” said Mr Holwell, “you have Captain Grant as adjutant-general, and Captain Minchin made merely commandant of the Fort, where his lack of military qualities can’t do much harm.”
“Not if we were about to defend the town, sir, but when we are driven back upon the Fort, as we must very quickly be, he has all the chance for mischief that he needs. And were Captain Grant twenty adjutants-general in one, he would still have Mr President for his commander.”
“Aye,” says my papa, “the Quaker is quaking now in good earnest. But you seem at present to wish to defend the town, Captain, and I thought that you scouted the bare notion hitherto.”
“Why, sir, had I been in command, I would have called in the gentlemen from the other factories, and their garrisons with ’em, a month ago, and added them to our force here, whereas now they are refuging with the French and Dutch, or must be snapped up by the Nabob as he advances, since the summons to ’em only went out yesterday. In the former case, with the aid of the forced labour of the black inhabitants, we might have extended the Morattoe-ditch round the town with some hope of defending the space enclosed in it, but as things are, I confess indeed that the Fort is our only hope. The plan adopted by the Council on the advice of the engineer officers, which neither carries out Colonel Scott’s scheme of defending the whole space of the town nor contents itself with maintaining the Fort, as should be the case in our present untoward circumstances, is doomed, I am convinced, to failure.”
“Sure, sir,” said Mr Freyne, “you would not have took the responsibility of destroying the church and all the houses near the Fort, as you pressed upon the gentlemen at the council of war?”
“Aye, sir, that I would, instead of leaving ’em as so many fortresses for the enemy. But when every gentleman that has a brick orpuccahouse wants it included in the defences, and none must be destroyed lest the Company should refuse to pay compensation, how, I ask you, is this to be managed without frittering away in continual stands and retreats the best strength of our small garrison?”
“Ah, Captain,” says Mr Holwell, “you should have supported me in the matter of Tanners. Why, sir, I looked to you as my certain upholder, and yet there was none but Captain Grant and that gallant lad le Beaume besides myself to perceive the advantages we should gain in possessing an abundant store of provisions and a retreat both for the ships and ourselves, unless the Nabob should divide his forces to attack us.”
“And what of dividing our own forces, sir?” asked the Captain. “They are far too small as it is for the extent of our defences, and to send half of ’em five miles off on t’other side of the river would be madness. And as for the Nabob, why, Monickchund and the Hoogly garrison alone could deal with any force we could send to hold Tanners without our being able even to offer to relieve it.”
“But help may yet reach us, sir, from Madrass or Bombay.”
“Scarcely, sir, unless they have been warned of our plight in a vision, for now that the sea is shut by themunsoon, our letters despatched yesterday by the country messengers can’t reach even Madrass in less than a month.”
“But the French and Dutch may yet determine to assist us, Captain.”
“They may, sir; and if they should, I’ll freely allow that the humble and imploring letters of the President and Council to ’em were justified. But I fancy they won’t.”
Here I saw Mr Dash come into the compound in haste, as though brimfull of news, but looking askance at Mr Holwell, against whom, as my Amelia will recollect, he cherishes some pique. Observing, however, that Mr Holwell did not remark his presence (for indeed, I doubt if the good gentleman know more of him than his name), Mr Dash joined himself to the company, and slipped quietly into a seat close to me.
“The rumour of which I asked Mr Freyne last night is true, madam,” he said.
“That concerning a treachery on the part of some European, sir?”
“Even so, madam. The thing is fairly proved, and Miss Freyne should be doubly rejoiced at the discovery, since the traitor is a person that has often, I believe, disobliged her. ’Tis Mr Menotti.”
“I protest, sir, I don’t see why I should rejoice to find that a person who had professed esteem for me is a traitor.”
“Why, madam, see how your cold treatment of the fellow is justified! And there’s another reason for you to triumph. I understand that the information on which Mr Menotti was captured came from a lady who was petted[05]by his neglect of her for a more youthful rival—yourself, madam.”
“Indeed, sir,” I said, flirting my fan and looking at him very complacently, “I don’t see what time the gentleman you mention had to spare for any other lady, for I should have said that he spent it all in forcing himself upon me.”
I knew that the young gentleman would set Sylvia Freyne down for a jealous coquette, but that was better for him than to spread about his first tale, for what would be said of my stepmother if it became known that she was the lady who accused him? “Pray, sir,” I went on, “tell me how the discovery was made.”
“The information was received, madam, on Sunday morning, and spies were set on Mr Menotti’s house in consequence. During the time of divine service (he alleging wounds received in an attack made upon him by footpads in the street the night before as an excuse for remaining at home), he was observed to steal out in the disguise of adeloll”[06](this is an Indian broker, of a grade higher than apycar, Amelia), “and was followed as far as Chitpore, where he passed the rivulet by the bridge, and entered thetop[07]of trees on t’other side. Thehircarasfollowing him discovered a second person habited as a facquier, who presented certain papers to Mr Menotti, upon which the two were taken prisoners before they could separate, the stranger proving to be an emissary of Monickchund, the Phousdar of Hoogly. Mr Menotti was very earnest with his captors to believe that he had devised a plot to entrap the Nabob’s agents and deliver them up to the Council, and offered, in proof of his sincerity, to guide the party to the lodging of the abandoned renegade Sinzaun, who, he said, had lain for more than a month in the place. But the wretch must have received warning in some way, for the lodging was empty, though the inmate had not long quitted it. This attempt falling out so badly, the President was not inclined to leniency by the perusal of Monickchund’s letters, which included a pretty broad hint to the effect that Mr Drake was an object of the Nabob’s particular aversion, and had better be removed. Mr Menotti was ordered to prison, and the President was stirred up to make the affecting and patriotic speech in which he recanted yesterday from his faith in the Nabob.”
“And did the wretched Menotti offer no further defence, sir?”
“Why, madam, he declared himself the victim of a conspiracy to ruin him between the lady I mentioned and her spouse, and hinted also that old Omy Chund would be found to be concerned in plotting with the Nabob; but the President, while promising to keep Omy Chund under his eye, refused to arrest him on such suspicious testimony, and committed Mr Menotti to the prison in the Fort, where he might remain secure until the present alarm be past, and prepare to confound his persecutors when an enquiry is made afterwards.”
“You observe, gentlemen,” said Captain Colquhoun, catching Mr Dash’s last words as he rose from the table, “that even his honour don’t yet believe in the reality of the danger that threatens us. I doubt but the Council won’t perceive until the Fort is in the Nabob’s hands that they have been sporting on the edge of a volcano.”
June ye15th.
Oh, my dear, sure Heaven must have devoted this unhappy place to destruction, for all that is said and done by way of defence is either wrong in itself or performed at the wrong time! True, the militia has been drilled morning and evening since I writ last, and makes a brave show, divided into two companies under Mr Holwell and Mr Mackett. Nor is this all, for Mr Manningham is their colonel, and Mr Frankland lieutenant-colonel, while the Rev. Mr Mapletoft and several gentlemen are captains. They were so obliging as to offer my papa a commission, but he refused it, saying that he counted it a greater piece of distinction to be a private man in this force than an officer, for it numbers only two hundred and fifty all told, and of these twenty-three of the Europeans are captains and mates of the shipping in the river, and must return to their vessels in the event of fighting, while a considerable number are Armenians, in whose valour so little confidence is reposed that they are detailed to guard the Fort itself, under command of Ensign Bellamy, who has just received his commission as Lieutenant. I’ll assure you, Amelia, the poor young gentleman’s disgust at his troops and his post is beyond words.
The defences also are well advanced, three principal batteries having been constructed, one to the north, close to the Saltpetre Godowns, on the cross-road that passes behind the Fort and leads by way of the strand to Chitpore; one across the avenue leading to the eastward which is called the Loll Buzar, in advance of the great gateway of the Fort, and having the Mayor’s Court on its left and the Park on its right; and one some three hundred yards to the south of the Fort, at the corner of the burying-ground, and commanding one of the principal roads. Behind this last is a second battery, situated close to the front gate of the Park, and the eastern battery has a slighter one some distance in advance of it, while the Fort gateway itself is to have the additional defence of a work called a ravelin, which is not yet completed. All the smaller lanes and by-ways are blocked with breastworks made with pallisadoes, and where the ground is open, as in the Park, it has been cut up into trenches, to prevent the approach of elephants or cannon. To defend all these works, our small garrison has been augmented to the number of fifteen hundred by the hiring of a thousandbuxerries, which are mercenary Indians armed with matchlocks. On the other hand, our governors are disappointed of the help they hoped for from the Dutch and French, for while the first refuse either to make or meddle in our dispute with the Nabob, the French are good enough to offer our whole factory to refuge at Chandernagore, where (say they) there’s more hope of a successful defence. ’Tis some slight consolation to my papa and me that the Council have replied to this piece of gasconading only by a request to the French to assist us with a present of ammunition, that we may defend ourselves here.
Six days ago, as we hear, the Nabob quitted Cossimbuzar with his army, and began his march towards us, in spite of the intercessions of three of his own subjects, Roopchund and Mootabray, the sons of Jugget Seat, his ownshroffand money-lender, and Coja Wazeed, a respectable merchant of Hoogly. That these disinterested persons failed in their benevolent designs is in great part due to the submissive and terrified letters sent by our Presidency to Mr Watts, which have continued to arrive long after Cossimbuzar was taken, and, falling into the hands of the Nabob, have confirmed him in his contempt and hostility for us, and he is marching forward with an incredible rapidity, so that many of his soldiers fall dead each day from the fierce rays of the sun. The news of the Soubah’s approach reached us on Saturday, and the next day was such a Sabbath as I should think Calcutta never saw before, nor is likely, should it escape the ruin that seems to be impending, to see again. For first of all, there was a letter intercepted from Rajaram Hircara, the chief of the Nabob’s spies and the person that sent his brother Narransing to demand that Kissendasseat should be given up, addressed to Omy Chund, advising him to escape from Calcutta to join with the Soubah while there was time. This coming so soon after Mr Menotti’s accusation against Omy Chund moved the President and Council to alarm, and they had the old man arrested at once and lodged in the Fort, setting a guard over his effects. Orders were also issued out to stop all the Moors’ boats passing up or down the river, and to seize two Moorish ships that were lying at anchor, which was done. Then, as though this were not turmoil enough for one day, some busy-body, finding the defences pretty well advanced and no feats of arms doing, revived Mr Holwell’s discarded notion of an attempt on the fort named Tanners, which the Moors call Mucka Tanna, situated some five miles down the river on the opposite bank. So confident were our rulers in the strength of our mighty army, that all Captain Colquhoun’s prudent representations were thrown to the winds, and all morning were preparations going forward for sailing against Tanners at noon, though the Captain warned them additionally that no success could be looked for in an enterprise that was commenced by profaning the Sabbath.
It appeared for a time, however, as though these prophecies of evil were to be falsified, for on our troops approaching Tanners in the evening in two ships and two brigantines, and landing in company with the Europeans and Lascars from the vessels’ crews, the Moorish garrison fled, without scarcely any resistance at all, so that our people entered the place in triumph and disabled or threw into the river all the great guns of the fort. But this piece of bravado has proved the destruction of the enterprise, for yesterday morning came Monickchund, the Moorish Governor of Hoogly, with two field-pieces and two thousand men, who fired very smartly with their small arms, and to oppose whom our people had no cannon, and were drove out with little difficulty. Last evening and throughout to-day our vessels have been employed in vain trying to dislodge the enemy a second time, in a genteel sort of style without any fighting, and even a reinforcement of thirty men from our small garrison had no effect, so that the ships are dropped down with the ebb of the tide to lie quiet for the night.
Dreadful though this reverse is in a country where such extravagant value is placed upon the slightest piece of success, an event of far greater horror occurred yesterday in Calcutta itself. It was resolved by the Council, who feared further treachery, to arrest Omy Chund’s relations and his friend Kissendasseat as well as himself, and a parcel of peons was sent to their houses with this object. Resistance was offered at both places, and Kissendass, who had raised and armed a force of men in the evident intention of joining with the Nabob when he arrives, succeeded in driving off his assailants and taking some of them prisoners, whom he used in the most shameful manner imaginable, until his house was fairly taken by storm by Lieutenant Blagg and a force of thirty Europeans, who discovered an incredible quantity of arms, as well as much treasure, concealed in it. At Omy Chund’s house, and this is the horrid part of the affair, his brother-in-law Huzzaromull, who was the person most sought for, hid himself in the Ginanah among the women, while the place was defended by Omy Chund’s peons and armed domestics, to the number of three hundred. The fight going against them, the head Jemmautdar, Juggermunt Sing (the same man that Mr Menotti catched in my papa’s garden with Sinzaun’s letter), stabbed all his master’s women, to the number of thirteen, to preserve them, as he believed, from disgrace, and fastening up the doors, set light to the place. Huzzaromull, having no mind to be burnt alive, surrendered himself, having lost his hand in the fight, and there’s a rumour that the perpetrator of the fearful deed, Juggermunt Sing himself, was conveyed away by his fellows covered with wounds. But oh, my dear, think of all these poor Gentoo women and their children, murdered in this barbarous fashion! Pray heaven the guilt of their innocent blood may not come on us, who are indeed remotely, though not directly, responsible for its being shed.
Fort William,June ye17th.
We are besieged, Amelia. Yesterday morning, some time before noon, when the ships, which had come up with the flood-tide, were preparing to drop down to Tanners again, all thought of the continuance of that enterprise was forbidden by a brisk sound of firing from the direction of Chitpore. The vanguard of the Nabob’s army was arrived at Mr Kelsall’s garden, under the command of Meer Jaffier, hisbuckshy[08]or chief general officer, and firing on the Prince George sloop of eighteen guns that lay off Perrins Redoubt. As you will guess, my dear girl, we had all received our orders in the event of this crisis, and had our effects packed in readiness for transport, so that as soon as the firing was heard, and the military and militia were repaired to their posts, we European women quitted our houses, and ourselves in palanqueens, and with our trunks carried on bullock-waggons, took refuge in the Fort without much confusion. Everything, of course, must necessarily be abandoned, with the exception of our clothes and jewels and our bedding, which is always carried about with them by travellers in the East, and which we should need in the Fort. Here the state apartments belonging to the Company were prepared for the fugitives’ reception, and the gentlemen who lodge within the walls were also most obliging in leaving their rooms free, and huddling into the varandas themselves. Mrs Freyne, who is still indisposed, was disturbed to discover that the state apartments were already seized upon when we arrived by the ladies who live nearer at hand, or whose spouses are of higher rank in the service than my papa, but we were made welcome to have our choice of all the young gentlemen’s chambers, and found ourselves at last settled in two tolerable rooms, in as cool a situation as we could hope for. Next to us, to my great delight, is my dear Mrs Hurstwood, whose fever has attacked her again to such a degree that she had to be brought into the Fort in a palanqueen of the French shape, which is like a couch covered in with a waggon-top, but her disposition is the cheerfullest in the world, and she declares that the having her Sylvia so close at hand will alone suffice to cure her. My Amelia will guess that I had plenty to do, even with the help of our three iyas (who were more minded indeed to sit down and bewail themselves), to make my two sufferers comfortable, while disposing our trunks and other effects to serve for chairs and tables with some air of neatness and order. When I had time to give my attention to public affairs, I learned from one of the young gentlemen, who came good-naturedly to see whether he could offer me any assistance, that the greater part of the black inhabitants of the town was fled, as were also most of the servants of the Europeans, and among them all the cooks, so that though the place was well supplied with provisions we bade fair to starve in the midst of plenty. But if the Indians are gone, the half-blood Portuguese and other black Christians are all crowded into the Fort, to the amount of two thousand—men, women, and children—so that ’tis scarce possible to move about the courtyard without tumbling over some of the refugees; and, with their chests and bundles, the place is like a fair, though lacking the ease and cheerfulness. However, a certain number of ’em are chose out to act as cooks, so that they are not without some use to the garrison and ourselves.
’Tis some slight consolation, in all this alarm and confusion, that throughout yesterday the honours of the fight remained with us. In command at Perrins Redoubt is Mr Ensign Piccard,[09]a young gentleman that has seen war service on the coast of Choromandel, and has profited by it. With him were only twenty Europeans, though these have since been reinforced by fifty more under Lieutenant Blagg, and this small party, with two field-pieces, maintained themselves with complete success against four thousand matchlockmen of the Soubah’s, with whom was a battery of four cannon and other pieces carried on the backs of elephants. Shortly after sunset, seeing the piquet under Captain Clayton advancing against them, the enemy retired, leaving seventy-nine dead on the field, and encamped in thetopor grove on the further side of the rivulet. Here, after consuming their evening meal, they betook themselves to sleep, as is the custom of the Indians, and this being suspected by Mr Piccard, he crossed the rivulet with a party of his men, seized and spiked up the enemy’s guns, and beating up the thickets in which the Moors lay, drove ’em all out, and this without losing one of his people; the spirits of those in the Redoubt being further cheered by observing the enemy, as soon as they were recovered from the confusion into which they had been thrown, filing in very large columns towards Dumdumma, as though they designed to abandon the siege.
But this, alas! was not to be. Oh, my dear, how do our sins return upon us! Who does my Amelia think had entered the Nabob’s camp in the interval between Ensign Piccard’s attack and the departure of the enemy? None, my dear girl, but Juggermunt Sing, that Jemmautdar of Omy Chund’s of whose terrible and resolved behaviour I wrote you two days back. With invincible spirit this man, although covered with wounds and concealed timidly by his countrymen in some of the black houses, caused himself to be set on a horse, and being carried to Meer Jaffier the Buckshy, told him there was no need to sacrifice his men’s lives in attacking the bridge which was defended so stoutly by our people at Perrins, for that the Morattoe-ditch did not near extend round the town, and he himself could show him certain undefended passages by which he might enter our bounds on the eastward. This, then, was the secret of the enemy’s movement, which brought ’em as far as the old entrenchments at Cow Cross, where they encamped behind the Brick-kilns, their tents extending from the Bungulo[10]as far as Govinderam Metre’s garden on the Dumdumma road. Nor was this all our misfortune, for at Cow Cross bridge were posted by far the greater part of ourbuxerries, to the number of near a thousand, and these seeing the enemy approaching, at once joined with them, thus leaving the way into the settlement open.
Such, then, was our situation this morning, Amelia, the enemy entering the skirts of the town and plundering and burning wherever they went, especially the houses of the black merchants lying near Chitpore. They have set fire to the Great Buzar and many parts of the Black Town, and we, for our part, have fired the Buzars and poor mean huts to the east and south almost as far as Govindpoor’s, so that there’s a vast expanse of fire and smoke all around us, producing a scene too horrible to describe. This evening a party was sent to drive out the Moors from the merchants’ quarter by the river, and brought back a few prisoners, from whom it was discovered that a general attack upon our outposts is intended to-morrow. This has led to the recall of Lieutenant Blagg and his reinforcement from Perrins, and the troops are ordered to remain all night under arms. One more piece of news has reached us. The reply from Chandernagore to our genteel letter asking the French to assist us with ammunition is a cold refusal. They have only sufficient, they say, for their own needs. Yet we learn that they were obliging enough to supply the Nabob with two hundred chests of powder when he lay across the river from them at Banka Buzar. Questionless we are intended to be grateful that they don’t actively join with Surajah Dowlah against us, though we hear that in his army is a body of fifty deserters from Chandernagore, whose escape has been connived at by their superiors.
Fort William,June ye18th.
I am writing these lines tormented by the most cruel anxiety. All is lost, Amelia, or very nearly so. The women and wounded are to be put on board the ships this evening, while the small remnant of our defenders endeavour to maintain themselves in the Fort, which alone is left to us, against a triumphant and exulting enemy. The Company’s ship Doddalay[11]and seven smaller vessels lie at a convenient distance from the Fort, and Mess. Manningham and Frankland are gone on board to provide for the reception of us unfortunates, while here every one is occupied in making sure that she shan’t be saved and her possessions left behind. Mrs Freyne is more sprightly than I have seen her for a fortnight. In an agreeable undress, she sits enthroned on piles of bedding, directing the trembling iyas as they cord the trunks, while my poor Charlotte lies almost speechless, exhausted by the heat and the violence of the fever that has held her all day. You’ll wonder that I can write at such a moment; and, indeed, I wonder at it myself. But, Amelia, my papa, my dear and honoured father, the kindest of men, is missing. I have been hurrying hither and thither, demanding of every European I met whether they could tell me anything of him, but all they can assure me of is that no one has seen him either slain or seriously wounded. Captain Colquhoun came upon me while I was seeking to obtain some news from a parcel of frightened To-passes, and fairly led me back by the hand to our lodging.
“You would oblige your good papa much more by remaining calm, madam,” he said; “for indeed I can imagine few things that would displease him more than to see you wandering about the Fort unattended at such a moment. Do me the favour to sit down quietly and occupy your mind in some suitable manner, and you shall have the earliest news I can procure you.”
Thus it is, then, that I am writing to my Amelia, and as the embarkation is not yet begun, I will endeavour to fulfil the Captain’s request by setting down something of the history of this day of disaster, for there en’t likely to be much chance for writing on board of a crowded ship, and, indeed, who knows what may be the fate of all of us in another few hours?
The day began with an attack made on the South Battery, where Captain Colquhoun was in command, with my papa among his troops. The enemy, taking possession of the houses on either side of the road in front of the battery, kept up a brisk fire upon the defenders with musquetry and wall-pieces; but the Captain held his ground, and placed garrisons in the different buildings flanking him on the left as far as the Rope-walk, to guard against any attack from that side. He was assailed with the same smartness until noon, when the enemy drew off for a while. The next battery to be attacked was that on the north, which was held by Lieutenant Smyth, who was so happy as to be able to beat off with little loss the assaults made upon him, thanks to the advantages of his situation and his skilful disposition of his men, although the Moors whom he repulsed did but join with those ranged against the Eastern Battery, which was attacked with the greatest resolution of all. Captain Clayton was in command here, supported by Mr Holwell and a party of militia, and having as an advanced post on the right the Gaol, whither Mr le Beaume had entreated to be allowed to betake himself with forty of our remainingbuxerries. In advance of this again was the slight work I have mentioned before, defended by a platoon of Europeans with two field-pieces, which bore the first brunt of the assault. Seeing themselves threatened by some thousands of the enemy, who found shelter from their shot in the thickets, this small party at length retired upon the Gaol with their guns, when the Moors, taking advantage of an undefended passage, seized the three European houses in the Rope-walk to the rear of the Gaol, and fired from them so furiously that Mr le Beaume was forced to spike up his guns and retreat to the battery. This was now attacked so hotly from the three houses on the right, and also from two on the left, that only the men working the guns could remain in it, and by the loss of the pallisado on the right it became almost untenable, Captain Clayton having rejected with displeasure Mr Holwell’s suggestion to occupy the buildings on either side with musquetry. In this unhappy state of affairs Mr Holwell rode back to the Fort to demand reinforcements from the President, for the importance of retaining this commanding post was universally admitted, nor was there any thought of retreat among the defenders themselves; but on his return he was met by the disorderly array of the troops from the battery, whom Captain Clayton had withdrawn in such haste that he left his ammunition behind him, disabling his guns also so slightly that the enemy, who now flocked into our abandoned work, manifesting their joy by excessive shouts, were able to drill them and turn them on the Fort. Oh, Amelia, figure to yourself the anguish of this moment to us who had been enquiring eagerly all day for every the least piece of news, and now saw our brave men disgracefully led back into the place by their incompetent commander! But there was worse still to come.
The capture of the Eastern Battery left the Soubah’s whole force at liberty to hurl itself upon that to the south, where Captain Colquhoun found himself in danger of being surrounded. The enemy, who now filled the Rope-walk, broke through the breastwork between Mrs Putham’s house and Captain Minchin’s, and crowded into the lane at the back, hoping to take him in the rear. Finding himself pressed also in front, from the great road leading to Surmans, he was forced to call in the flanking parties that he had posted in the houses near, and retreat upon the inner battery close to the Park gate, leaving one of his field-pieces at the corner of the Park wall to cover his retirement. This necessary movement left Lieutenant Blagg and a party of volunteers, who had not been able to obey in time the order to retire, surrounded by the enemy on the top of Captain Minchin’s house; but although the Moors held all the houses around, and the very rooms below the roof on which they were, these brave men fought their way down the stairs and broke through the hostile crowds that thronged the whole square with their bayonets, until they reached the cannon at the corner of the Park, which covered their retreat also to the inner battery before it was spiked up and abandoned. The incredible slaughter of the enemy made by this brave band, and the skill and deliberation with which Captain Colquhoun had conducted his retirement, bringing with him all his ammunition and all the guns but that one which was spiked up, made the affair rather a triumph than a reverse; but what was his mortification and that of all with him to receive orders from the Fort to retire from the second battery also, although it was within pistol-shot of the walls, and commanded two out of the three roads of the place! I could almost wonder that the gallant gentleman did not refuse to obey (or rather I should do so did I not know his strict notions of discipline), but leaving an officer with thirty men, my papa among them, to hold the Company’s house outside the walls, he returned reluctantly with his troops, to find that those in command had lost, during the trials of the day, the little spirit and wisdom they had possessed. Not content with having compelled the abandonment of the South Battery after the loss of that on the east, the Council now ordered a retreat from the post which Lieutenant Smyth had defended with so much success on the north, sending also boats to recall Ensign Piccard and his party from Perrins to garrison the Company’s house, and ordering the Prince George to fall down from Baugbuzar to her usual station opposite the Fort.
No words of mine can describe, Amelia, the state of affairs when this disgraceful resolution was made known—the consternation of the English at so unnecessary and damaging a retreat, of which the remainingbuxerriesand all the Lascars but a few quickly showed their opinion by going over to the enemy, the stupefaction of the To-passes and Armenians among the militia, and the frightful uproar among the three thousand servants and black Christians that crowd up the Fort. All this needs to be seen and heard to be appreciated, but her Sylvia’s misery my dearest girl’s sensibility will enable her to picture, since the party left by Captain Colquhoun at the Company’s house came in, on being relieved by Mr Piccard, without Mr Freyne.
(In the original letter the following is written hurriedly in pencil.)
I am scribbling these few lines on the last sheet of my unfinished letter, in case I should never despatch another to my Amelia. I shall entrust it to Mr Hurstwood, who is going on board the Doddalay to see how his Charlotte finds herself, but only for a moment, since a fresh assault of the enemy upon the Fort is momentarily expected. But why am I not on board? you’ll say. Because my duty holds me here, Amelia. I was actually in the boat with Mrs Freyne and other ladies, and on the point of putting off from the Gott, when there comes running a servant of Omy Chund’s who is permitted to go freely about the Fort to wait upon his master, and cries out to me that he had found Fahrein Saeb (so the Indians call my papa), grievously wounded, but still living. Was it possible for me to persist in going on board the ship after hearing this, my dear? Sure my sweet girl would tear me from her heart had I given the notion a moment’s thought. Mrs Freyne is herself ill, and was so prodigiously alarmed at the idea of delaying any longer, that I feared a screaming-fit, and begged the boatmen to put off at once without me, which they did, while I returned with the Indian to one of the ground-floor chambers of the Fort, where they had carried the dear gentleman and laid him on a bedstead. It seemed that he had been struck down by a blow from the butt-end of a musquet or other heavy weapon, and then stabbed and hacked in the most cruel and fiendish manner, so that he was as near as possible dead from want of blood. The good Padra Bellamy and Mr Holwell did all in their power to stanch the wounds, for Dr Knox was nowhere to be found, but all was in vain until the poor servant (who had heard, he says, that Fahrein Saeb was missing, and since he had always used him civilly and been friendly with his master, went to search for him in the grounds of the Company’s house and found him) proved himself indeed a good Samaritan, bringing some odd sort of salve that was extraordinary effectual, and bidding us on no account move the sufferer before morning, lest the blood should burst forth again. Here, then, I am, my dear, watching over my papa, in company with a Portuguese woman that Mr Holwell has fetched to be with me, not knowing whether I shall see the light of another day, for the enemy, grown bold, as they may well be, with their continued and undeserved successes, are gathering themselves for a general attack. Farewell then, my dearest, my best beloved friend. If this is the last you hear from me, preserve a little kindness in your heart for
yourSylvia Freyne.
(The account contained in this chapter belongs to a letter written some months later, but it is introduced here in order that the current of the narrative may not be interrupted.)
However long I may live, Amelia, I am assured I shall never find weaken the remembrance of the period of three nights and two days which began with the departure of the European women from the Fort. All the events of my life before it seem pale and distant, and as for those that have occurred since—why, my dear, they are so little real in comparison that if I so much as close my eyes, without any design of recalling the awful past, I find myself in it again. After this, you need only to be told that I am sometimes thankful for even this frightful relief from the realising the cruel situation in which I am at present, to perceive your poor Sylvia’s sorrowful case. ’Tis in part for this reason that I am forcing myself to set down in writing the whole shocking history.
After the council of war held on the Friday evening, at which it was determined to send the European women at once on board ship, there was a continual diminishing of the garrison of the Fort. Outside the walls our people were still holding Mr Eyre’s house on the north, Mr Cruttenden’s and the church on the north-east, and the Company’s house on the south, but this last post was evacuated before eight o’clock, the defenders being too severely galled by the fire from the next house, which was occupied by the enemy. The south side of the Fort was thus left exposed to attack, for our guns (mounted on the roof of the godowns which rendered the two bastions on this side useless) failed altogether to do any damage to thesepuccahouses, which we could neither hold nor destroy. Since affairs began to look so black, such of the garrison as held their lives more precious than their reputation took advantage of the passing to and fro of the boats conveying the ladies to slip off to the ships themselves. A monstrous example was set by Mess. Manningham and Frankland, the third and fourth in rank in the Council, and Mr Drake’s constant allies in the work of governing, who, offering their services to attend the ladies and see them safely on board, chose to remain in the Doddalay, of which vessel they, with the President, were part owners, in spite of all the urgent messages sent to bring ’em back. There followed them, among other private persons, three lieutenants of the militia, and worse still, one belonging to the army. It was Mr Bentinck, Amelia. All this time the enemy were gathering their forces for an assault, and approached the walls about midnight, intending to escalade ’em. Inside the Fort a general alarm was beaten three times, but only such of the garrison as were on duty responded to the call, the rest having thrown themselves down in any corner, worn out with fatigue, or being disgusted with the behaviour of their leaders and the want of food,—for though there was plenty to be had, no one had chanced to keep an eye on the Portuguese cooks, and they were run off. This great beating of drums, however, alarmed the enemy so terribly that, fancying the whole garrison, rendered fierce by despair, was gathered in arms to oppose ’em, they withdrew from their attempt, contenting themselves with shooting a few fire-arrows into the Fort, and now and then sending off a cannon-shot.
While all this was passing, I sat watching beside the senseless form of my dear papa, who never moved nor opened his eyes while the effect of the salve with which the Indian had dressed his wounds lasted, which was the whole night. I was not left altogether solitary, for one gentleman after another was perpetually coming in to ask whether he might be permitted to do anything for me, and this proof of the esteem felt by all for Mr Freyne and their obliging kindness to myself affected me very sensibly. Soon after eleven o’clock in came Captain Colquhoun, whom I had not seen for some hours, and eyed me with great sternness.
“You have no business here, madam,” says he.
“Indeed, sir, I think I have,” said I.
“I would I had known ten minutes ago where you was, madam. I promise you I would have packed you off on board the Diligence, with Mrs Drake and Mrs Mapletoft and the two other ladies that were left. Mr le Beaume was there too, badly wounded, and you could have acted nurse-keeper to him, if you’re so fond of the part.”
“There’s no question of fondness, sir. I’m but doing my duty.”
“What can you do for your papa that any of us can’t do, madam? If he were in his senses, ’twould please him best to know that you was safe on board the shipping, not thrusting yourself into danger here,” and the good gentleman went away in a rage, to seek, I fancy, for some means of getting me out of the factory, but there was no more boats plied that night.
Mr Secretary Cooke was the next person that looked in, I think, to tell me that a second council of war was about to be held (this was after the enemy had desisted from their design of attacking us), and some time later Mr Dash came to tell me that the council was broke up.
“But what was the decision arrived at, sir?” I asked him.
“None at all, madam. A cannon-shot passed through the consultation-room, and no one waited for another.”
“But, sure, sir, something must have been resolved upon?”
“Indeed, madam, there never was so good-natured an assembly, for it left every member to believe that his own proposals would be followed.”
“But were there many different plans proposed, sir?”
“As many as there were members, madam, and that was any one that cared to take part. Mr Holwell was all for an orderly retirement after holding the place for one day more, in order that the Company’s papers and treasure might be put safely on board the shipping, but Mr Baillie opposed him. Others were for evacuating the Fort at once, and Captain Colquhoun was for holding it as long as the walls stood, in the expectation that the rains, which are now some days overdue, must compel the Nabob to raise the siege before long.”
“That’s the Captain, indeed! And was he well seconded, sir?”
“But poorly, madam, since Captain Witherington, who has succeeded in counting up his munitions now that there’s so little to count, declares that our powder is only sufficient for two days more, or three if it’s well husbanded. But as I said, what with every one talking at once, and the absence of any sort of control, no one knows what plan was decided upon or what rejected.”
I heard nothing more certain than this until the morning, when Mr Hurstwood, who had returned punctually from the Doddalay the night before, with his Charlotte’s full consent and approbation, came in and told me that all the Portuguese women and children were to be embarked at once, but whether this portended a general retirement or not, he could not say. The duty of seeing these unfortunate persons put into boats and despatched to the ships fell to Mr Baillie, who set to work very early, with all the disinterested kindness and generous activity imaginable. Our short season of peace was now over, for with the light the firing upon us began more fiercely than ever. So wickedly ingenious were the enemy that they had employed the hours of darkness not only in filling up the ditches which we had dug across the Park and other open grounds (and which had served them for ready-made breastworks behind which to fire at us the day before), and bringing their artillery over ’em, but in turning against us the abandoned guns of our own Eastern Battery, which did us more damage than all their own weapons. Not content with this, they had mounted cannons at the gates of Mr Bellamy’s compound and the Play-house compound, which commanded the church, as well as three at the corner of the Park, two in the Loll Buzar beyond the Gaol, and two at a spot near the Horse-stables, from all of which they rained their missiles upon us, whileshamsingees[01]and wall-pieces were fixed at every corner, andbercundauzes[02]or matchlockmen were in readiness to shoot at any person that appeared on our walls. Finding that the enemy had not seized upon the Company’s house, which he had been forced to abandon the night before, Ensign Piccard led out a party to occupy it again, in the hope of at least diverting a portion of the firing from the Fort; and the President, adventuring his person boldly enough, made the tour of the ramparts, and finding it almost impossible to hold them in their ruinous state, which every moment became worse, ordered them to be strengthened with bags of cotton, affording a very sufficient protection against bullets. Seeing his honour and Mr Holwell, with Mr Hurstwood and Padra Mapletoft, busy in front of the chamber where I sat in cutting open the bales and filling the cotton into bags to carry it to the ramparts, I made bold to offer them such help as I could in closing the bags, and we all worked hard for some minutes, until a messenger came to call away Mr Drake, to whom, just as he was departing, Mr Hurstwood cried out that he would go on board the Doddalay again for five minutes to see his lady, and return at once. Mr Holwell also going off, there was only the Rev. Mr Mapletoft left, who came and looked in upon my papa, and said in a dolorous voice that he had understood a retirement was decided upon, and he wished some gentleman would be so wise as to begin it, which on Captain Colquhoun hearing, who came up at the moment, he rebuked the Padra very sharply for his dejected air, and bade him take pattern by the excellent Mr Bellamy. I don’t know how the poor divine covered his confusion, for on entering the chamber I found to my delight that my papa’s eyes were open, though he was not looking at me, but at Captain Colquhoun.
“Captain,” he said, very feebly, “we en’t going to leave the place to those Moorish swine, as the parson said, are we?”
“Not while we have a charge of powder left with which to fight ’em, sir.”
“I’m with you, Captain. But what’s my girl doing here? Where’s the other women?”
“On board the shipping, sir, where Miss ought to be.”
“So she ought. Get her on board, sir, pray.”
“The first chance I have, sir; trust me.”
“Sir,” I said, following the Captain out of the chamber, “I would not withstand you in my papa’s presence, for fear of disturbing him, but I won’t go.”
“By Heaven, madam, but you shall, if I have to carry you down to the Gott. There’s no women’s work before us here.”
And he hurried away, but could not immediately carry out his intention, for there happened all at once a whole quantity of disasters. Ensign Piccard’s party in the Company’s house, having been attacked by the Moguls in overwhelming numbers, were forced to retreat back to the Fort, every man of them being wounded, and their leader very seriously so. As though this were not enough, almost at the same moment the piquets that held the church and Mr Eyre’s and Mr Cruttenden’s houses, whether on receipt of an order or on their own motion I don’t know, also left their posts and came in, so that we were now reduced to the Fort itself and the Gott which it commanded, and which was defended on either side by a weak wall with a gate of pallisadoes. The enemy, scattering themselves along the bank of the river, began now to shoot fire-arrows into the shipping, and this so terrified those on board the vessels that they were seen to be weighing their anchors in preparation for dropping down the river. At this dreadful sight the terror and confusion in the Fort became extreme. Many of the boatmen detained at the wharf had made their escape in the night with their craft, and Mr Baillie was met with the utmost turmoil and difficulty in his humane task of embarking the Portuguese Christians, a good number of whom were drowned in their haste and terror, but the consternation was now spread to the Europeans. The President was going hither and thither in an odd hurried sort of style, giving orders for the defence of the wall that connected the south-west bastion with the line of guns over the wharf, but no one offered to obey him, for there was no one at hand to manage the two field-pieces that were there. Presently a person came to acquaint him that all the gunpowder left was so damp and spoiled as to be useless, a piece of news that appeared to give him great concern, as well it might, although it was afterwards proved not to be true. Mr Drake went away to consult with his officers, and for some time we heard nothing but the firing, until Captain Colquhoun came running, and seizing my wrist, cried out to me to follow him at once.
“I won’t leave my papa here, sir,” I cried.
“If he’s moved he’ll die, madam.”
“Then I’ll stay and die with him, sir.”
“No, you won’t, miss,” cried my papa, in a voice of extraordinary strength. “See,” and he plucked at his bandages, “if you don’t go I’ll loosen these and bleed to death, and you’ll have the recollection that you’re your father’s murderer.”
“If my papa will drive away his girl by such a cruel means—” I cried, but Captain Colquhoun dragged me from the place, choking with sobs, and hurried me towards the back gate of the Fort. The Gott and the steps were crowded with people, all crying out that the enemy were forcing the pallisadoes from the side of the Company’s house, but there was only two boats in sight. One was already putting off, with Captain Minchin and Mr Mackett in it, t’other was still at the steps, and Mr Drake was in the act of stepping on board, Captain Grant and one of the engineer officers following him. By the time we were arrived at the head of the steps, this boat also had put off, the President’s black footman, who had stood with his sword drawn guarding it in readiness for his master’s escape, clambering in from the shore. Captain Colquhoun pulled me down the steps.