The Generals

Chapter 66

Arthur

Poona, August 1803

Arthur laid down his razor and began to rinse the remains of the soap from his face.When he had patted away the last drops he laid down his towel and stared into the mirror. At thirty-four years of age his body still had the trim athleticism of a man ten years younger. That was down to the hard exercise that he took every day, the same regimen he insisted on for his men. Even so it had taken many months to recover from his illness, and there was grey hair at his temples. He shook his head sadly at the toll India had taken on his body.To be fair, these lands had given him the chance to develop his ideas about the best methods for waging war. If he had remained in Europe, then he would never have had independent commands on the scale of the forces he had wielded in India.

His promotion to Major General had come through the previous year and now he was leading an army of nearly twenty-five thousand regular troops and sepoys. Some months earlier, as the British had anticipated, war had broken out between the Mahratta states and the Peshwa, Bajee Rao, had come to the Governor General begging aid to help restore him to power in Poona. Richard had made good use of the opportunity to draw up an advantageous treaty before authorising Arthur to take command of the army that would place Bajee Rao back on his throne. The Governor General had learned from his embarrassment over the affair with General Baird and had first offered the command to General Stuart. But Stuart had gracefully declined and stated that Arthur should be in command since he had equipped, organised and trained the finest army ever assembled in India. Those were the very words, Arthur recalled. His professionalism and ability had been recognised and there was no longer any grudging resentment, nor the muttered accusation of nepotism, to besmirch his reputation.

So he had led his army north from Mysore and entered Poona early in May, and returned Bajee Rao to his palace. Far from being a useful ally, Bajee Rao was detested by his people and his kingdom was destitute and disintegrating. Despite being restored to his throne by the English, the Peshwa had at once begun to plot with Scindia to oust his rescuers. Such was the man’s ineptitude in the arts of deceit that Arthur had come to hear of the plot almost at once and had remained in Poona to discourage Bajee Rao from any attempt to renege on his treaty with the Governor General. At the same time, attempts to negotiate treaties with Scindia and Holkar were proving difficult. Reports from Arthur’s network of agents had revealed that Scindia was trying to forge alliances with other Mahratta chiefs to wage war on the British. Meanwhile Holkar had declared war on the Nizam and had invaded the lands of Hyderabad, claiming that the Nizam owed him money. As a result Arthur had been obliged to divide his command and send Colonel Stevenson to protect Hyderabad with ten thousand soldiers.

Arthur had other problems. The men and horses he had brought with him from southern India were used to a diet of rice, yet the Mahrattas fed their beasts on jowarry - a coarse grain that was not suitable for the men in Arthur’s army. So his supply lines ran all the way back to Mysore. That was bad enough, but worse still was that many of the contractors had made off with much of his rice supply. That difficulty could be resolved by hiring new contractors, but in the meantime the army had advanced slowly from Poona to threaten Scindia’s fortress at Ahmadnagar.The monsoons had turned the tracks into glutinous mud that meant the army could progress no more than three miles a day. Arthur had left his men briefly to collect more bullocks and ensure that the situation in Poona was stable. The peace between France and England had changed the strategic situation in India overnight. Under the terms of the Treaty of Amiens the government in London had agreed to return Pondicherry to the French. Already a number of French soldiers had turned up in India, looking for employment under the local rajas and warlords. Hot on their heels had come a steady flow of French merchants eager to compete with the trade of the East India Company. Just when it seemed that the influence of France had been driven from the subcontinent, the French were back in play.

Arthur took a last glance at his image in the mirror. How much longer would his constitution hold out, he wondered? He had endured the strain of several years of campaigning in this unforgiving climate, and the odds against his returning home to England in good health were lengthening all the time. Besides, there was always the memory of Kitty at the back of his mind, and he yearned to return to her. The last letter he had received from her was some months ago. She said her heart was still his, and that she had successfully fended off the suitors her older brother had attempted to foist on her.That was small comfort to Arthur while he was on the far side of the world. He was familiar enough with Dublin society to know that the Viceroy would have a plentiful stock of dashing young staff officers to catch the eyes of the local dignitaries’ daughters, and that included Kitty.

‘Damn,’ he muttered in frustration and reached for his shirt, thrusting his head through the collar and hurriedly fastening the buttons. His servant had laid out the rest of his uniform on a chest beside the basin, and with a last moment to savour the cool loose fit of the shirt Arthur wearily began to dress. He made his way to the veranda of the residency where Barry Close had just sat down for breakfast. Even though Close had only recently been transferred from Mysore, he had made useful co

‘Good morning, sir.’ Close nodded. ‘Dare say you had a better night’s sleep than you’ve had in a while, eh?’

‘More comfortable, at least.’ Arthur beckoned to one of Close’s stewards. ‘Lamb chops, if you please.’

The steward bowed. ‘Acha, sahib.’

Once the man was out of earshot Arthur lowered his voice. ‘Any further developments with the Peshwa?’

‘Only that he is as treacherous as ever. My informants at the palace say there is a regular exchange of messages with Scindia and Holkar. I had a word with him last night about it. I mentioned that it was somewhat unseemly for a man beholden to our side to be in communication with his former enemies.’

‘He didn’t deny it then?’

‘Of course he did, sir. But you know Bajee Rao - the man is a compulsively bad liar. He insists that any communication he has with the other side simply demands that they bow to his authority once more. He swore, by all his gods, that he remains a steadfast and loyal ally of Britain.’

‘It’s conceivable he might be telling the truth,’ Arthur mused wistfully.

‘Only to the same extent that porcine aviation is conceivable,’ replied Close.‘The Peshwa is a black-hearted knave, motivated at any moment by what he fears most.’

‘Well, yes. Quite.’ Arthur stared across the compound towards the main gate of Poona and the distant domes of the Peshwa’s palace, gleaming in the rays of the early morning sun. ‘Well, we must do what we can to discourage him from playing both sides. I think it’s time that you let him know that if there should be any more of this underhand opposition, I shall be obliged to take possession of the country solely in the name of the Company.’

Close stared at him.‘Would you carry that threat through, sir?’

‘I would. I am empowered to act in the name of the Governor General, and I will not shirk from doing anything necessary to bring peace and order to the Mahrattas.You must make sure that he is convinced of that.’

‘Well, I’ll do my best, sir.’

‘I’m sure you will. In the meantime, we’ll continue our efforts to remove Holkar from the Nizam’s territory and get him and Scindia to disband their armies and accept the authority of the Peshwa.’