The Generals

‘That’s a tall order, sir.’

‘I understand that, but we hold Poona, we have the Peshwa and have set a precedent for decisive action when it is required.’ Arthur leaned forward and poured himself some tea. ‘If they’re sensible, then they’ll meet our demands sooner or later.’

‘And if they don’t?’

‘Then there will be war, and my army and I will hunt them down and destroy them.’

The resident ran a hand slowly over his thi

‘I read the reports too, you know,’ Arthur said testily. ‘Our army is more than a match for them.’

‘I’m sure you are right, sir.’

The door to the kitchen opened as the steward returned with a platter of lamb chops and strode towards them. Arthur glanced at the man before addressing his final comment to Close on the matter.‘I am right, as I will prove to you, and the whole of India, before the year is out.’

As Arthur ate the conversation turned to more light-hearted matters and the news that the Peshwa was pla

‘Who the devil are they, d’you suppose?’ Close grumbled. ‘Bound to be the bearers of bad news.’

There was a brief silence before Arthur nodded. ‘You can count on it. The man riding alongside the troop commander is my brother Henry.’

‘So it is. By God, you have fine eyesight, sir.’

‘Not really.’ Arthur smiled. ‘Only a select few men in India have a nose like that.’

Henry left his escort as they entered the compound and continued towards the residency as the troopers dismounted from the exhausted horses and led them to the troughs by the line of tie rails beside the entrance. Arthur got up and descended from the veranda, waving a greeting to his brother.

‘Henry! What brings you here?’

‘Charming greeting, I must say.After such an arduous journey, and not having seen you for so long, I’d have expected something better.’ Henry reined in and slid down from the saddle. A servant darted out from the side of the house and took the reins as he stretched his back and rubbed his seat. He nodded to the servant. ‘Have him watered, fed and groomed.’

Arthur raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re not staying?’

‘Only long enough to brief you. Then I’ll carry your reply back to Richard.’

‘Brief me? Why, what’s happened?’

Henry gestured to the table where Close was still seated, and they exchanged a brief wave.‘Let me take some refreshment first. I swear I have half the dust of India lining my throat. We’ve ridden directly from Madras, only stopping to rest when the nags were on the verge of collapse. Not a pleasant experience.’

Arthur smiled at his brother’s affected insouciance before replying in kind. ‘I beg your pardon, how inhospitable of me. Do please be my guest.’ He gestured to the table and they climbed the steps to join Close. While Arthur ordered the steward to bring a jug of pressed juices, Henry beat some of the dust from his coat and eased himself into one of the cane chairs.

‘So.’ Arthur turned to him. ‘Tell me. What brings you here?’

‘It’s the French.You know that Richard has been holding off their claims for their colony at Pondicherry to be returned to them.’

‘I had heard about it.’

‘The situation has changed. A French frigate arrived to reclaim the colony on the fifteenth of June. Over two hundred men landed and took possession of the fort. They say that a powerful squadron of warships is sailing to join them, together with a general and a division of French soldiers.’

‘Most awkward. Who else knows about this?’

‘Richard sent me as soon as he found out, but you can be sure that word will have reached most of our Mahratta friends by now.’

‘Which means they will be making speedy efforts to contact the French and come to some arrangement to inconvenience our interests.’

‘To put it mildly.’ Henry leaned forward and his tone became serious. ‘We can’t delay the inevitable a moment longer. Richard wants you to move against Scindia at once. He’s already given orders to General Lake to advance into the land between Jumna and the Ganges. Everything turns on a decisive defeat of the Mahrattas. Then we can enforce British influence across the breadth of the subcontinent.’

‘You have to admire our brother’s ambition,’Arthur responded drily. ‘The situation is rather more complicated here in the field. My army is stuck in mud and my supplies are tenuous.’

‘Now is not the best time to start a new campaign,’ said Close.

‘There never is a best time,’ said Henry. ‘Anyway, those are his instructions.’

Arthur raised an eyebrow. ‘Instructions, or orders?’

‘Richard gave you his full authority to act in this matter. He has every confidence that you will make the right decision.’

‘I see,’ Arthur replied coldly. If the campaign failed, Richard would be absolved of blame. Of course, if it succeeded then he would claim the credit for his grand strategic vision. Besides that, Arthur sensed that his loyalty to his brother was being tested.The expansion of British interests in India had cost a fortune, and the government in London and the directors of the Company would be certain to call the Governor General to account in the near future. It would be natural for Richard to want to know how far he could depend on his brother’s support. Yet Arthur deeply resented the ploy.

He let out a weary breath. ‘Very well, tell him that I will destroy Scindia’s army.’

The monsoon rains continued to slow the army’s march as Arthur led his forces towards the fortress of Ahmadnagar. Mud sucked down the wheels of his guns and the drivers of the artillery trains whipped their bullocks on as soldiers, often knee deep in mud themselves, braced their shoulders against the spokes and strained to shove the guns and the limbers back on to firmer ground. Even that had its hazards as the rain, and lighter deposits of mud, made the ground slippery and the men had to avoid the slithering motions of the bullock-drawn vehicles while struggling to remain on their feet and trudge on towards Ahmadnagar.

As soon as Henry had left Poona to carry Arthur’s response back to Calcutta, a message was sent to Scindia declaring that he bore responsibility for the coming conflict thanks to his unwillingness to negotiate. Scindia’s reply blamed the British in turn, saying that their pre-conditions had made any meaningful negotiations impossible. Scindia’s message ended with a rallying cry for every native of the subcontinent to rise up and throw off the British yoke. It was a hollow ambition, since the inhabitants of lands already under British rule realised they had more to lose than to gain by rebelling. But Arthur knew that the real audience of Scindia’s call to arms was the French. If they could supply enough advisers and arms, then the Mahratta armies might yet overthrow the British.

Four days’ march brought the British army to Scindia’s fortress at Ahmadnagar. Arthur, and a small escort, rode ahead to examine the enemy’s defences. At first light that morning the rain had finally stopped. By the time they found a small hill close enough to give a good view of the walls the sky had cleared and the rising sun was quickly warming the lush landscape, causing steam to rise up in a faint haze. Before them lay the pettah - a small walled town - and to one side the fortress itself. Ahmadnagar was circular with massive walls of solid stone with formidable-looking towers at regular intervals. A deep ditch, filled with water, surrounded the fortifications. Arthur flicked back his drenched cape and reached for his telescope. Around him, the staff officers followed suit as the escorting dragoons allowed their mounts to wander a short distance off to graze.