The Generals

Fitzroy raised his eyebrows.‘They’re not going to like that, sir. You know the rules of war. The place has been taken by assault. By rights they should have a free hand.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ Arthur replied firmly. ‘Tipoo’s people had nothing to do with his decision to wage war on us. They are not going to share his fate.And I am certainly not going to throw them on the mercy of Madras sepoys. I want the de Meuron regiment drawn up in front of the breach. They are not to let any soldiers into the city. Clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Fitzroy saluted and climbed down from the wall to relay Arthur’s orders. Meanwhile Arthur stared out over the city. The sound of gunfire was already fading away, apart from occasional bursts as the attackers discovered a few remaining pockets of Tipoo’s men. Rising above the city was the palace and Arthur realised that if the ruler of Seringapatam could be found and persuaded to surrender, then the city might yet be spared the worst ravages of defeat. Otherwise, the marauding bands of redcoats would unerringly find their way to stores of drink and then, fuelled by arrack and the fire in their blood, they would carry murder, destruction and rape to every corner of the city.

As soon as Fitzroy returned they set off towards the palace, stepping round the bodies that lay behind the wall. When they turned into the avenue that led to the palace gates they saw several companies of redcoats waiting outside.

‘It’s the 33rd.’ Fitzroy pointed. ‘And over there - Major Shee.’

Arthur hurried across to Shee. ‘What news?’

Shee stiffened his back as he made his report.‘Enemy’s beaten, sir. Just winkling out the last few of ’em. There’s a few hundred still sheltering in the palace. General Baird has asked them to surrender.’

‘Baird? Where is he?’

‘Through there, sir.’ Shee nodded at the gate.

Arthur and Fitzroy made towards the arch and cautiously walked through into a large courtyard. Baird had his back to them, and was staring at the façade of the palace. Several of Tipoo’s men stared back warily from the palace entrance. More men stood at the windows of the building. At the sound of boots crunching on gravel Baird glanced back over his shoulder, and then turned to greet Arthur. There was no triumph in his expression, just weariness.

‘Ah, Wellesley, it’s all but over now. I’m just waiting for the killadar to send out word that he’s accepted my terms.’

‘Terms, sir?’ Arthur asked. ‘What terms?’

‘Surrender of the palace and the men sheltering there, including two of Tipoo’s sons. In exchange, the palace and all those in it will be placed under the protection of your regiment.’

‘What about Tipoo, sir? Where is he?’

‘The killadar claims he doesn’t know. The last time he saw Tipoo was over by the water gate.’

‘We have to find him, sir. If he escapes then he’ll continue the war from somewhere else. If he’s been killed we must find the body.’

‘I’m no fool, Wellesley. I know damn well what’s at stake.’

‘I apologise, sir. I meant no offence.’

‘Never mind. Anyway, here’s the fellow now.’

Arthur looked up and saw a thin man emerge from the shadows behind the main entrance, walking swiftly down the steps towards them. He bowed his head formally as he stood in front of Baird and spoke, in good English. ‘The killadar accepts your conditions, and your word as a pukka sahib that no harm will come of the household if we lay down our arms.’

‘Those were the terms offered, and I stand by them, with these officers as witnesses.’

‘There is one other thing,’ Arthur interrupted. ‘You must take us to the body of Tipoo, or at least to the last place he was seen.’

‘As you wish, sahib.’

‘Very well,’ Baird growled at the palace official. ‘Those are the final terms. Take ’em or leave ’em.’

‘We accept, sahib. I will tell my master.’

‘I want everyone in the palace brought out here,’ Baird ordered.‘They are to leave their weapons - all of them, mind you - stacked in the hall over there.’

‘Yes, sahib.’ The native bowed and trotted back towards the palace.

Baird turned to Arthur. ‘Bring your men in. They can guard the prisoners and take up position in and around the palace.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Shortly afterwards, as the redcoats stood waiting, the first of the enemy came out of the palace and cautiously made their way across the courtyard towards the men of the 33rd, to be herded together in one corner of the courtyard. A steady stream of warriors emerged, and then the Tipoo’s sons and scores of his wives. When the killadar appeared Arthur approached him to ask if any of his men had been taken prisoner during the night attack on the tope early on in the siege. The killadar had been held hostage by the company, in the days of Cornwallis, and spoke some broken English.

‘We show you,’ he replied nervously. ‘Prisoners? Please come.’

‘Show us?’ Arthur muttered. ‘Show us what?’

‘You must see. Come!’The killadar started towards the door to a smaller courtyard to one side of the palace. ‘This way!’

‘What’s over there, I wonder?’ Fitzroy asked suspiciously.

‘The dungeons,’ Baird replied quietly. ‘Where they held me for over three years.’

Baird summoned several men to accompany them. The party followed the killadar cautiously and once through the door they found that they were in what looked to be some kind of training ground. To one side a flight of steps descended to two rows of barred cells. At the far end was a pit. Fitzroy leaned closer to Arthur. ‘What do you think he means to show us?’

‘How should I know? Anyway, we’ll find out soon enough.’

The killadar led them across the courtyard and down the steps. As they made their way between the cells Arthur saw that the gates were open and the cells were empty. Except for the last one. As they approached four enormous figures emerged from it and bowed to the allied officers

‘Who the hell are they?’ Arthur said in a strained tone. The men were all superbly muscled and looked as if they could break a man’s neck with their bare hands.

‘Jettis,’ Baird explained quietly. ‘Strong men. They performed tricks and feats of strength for Tipoo and his father.’

‘What kind of tricks?’ Fitzroy asked with a trace of anxiety.

‘I’ve seen them twist a man’s head right round. And worse.’

The killadar was standing close to the edge of the pit and beckoned to them. As they drew closer Arthur caught a glimpse of an animal’s skin as it prowled round the far side of the pit: a tawny yellow with darker stripes.

‘Tigers! It’s a tiger pit.’

They approached the rim of the pit carefully. Three huge tigers were sitting chewing on what looked like the remains of a man. Arthur felt sick.Then the full scale of the horror hit him as he reached the edge of the pit and stared down. There were perhaps a dozen mauled bodies scattered across the floor. The tattered remains of their red uniform jackets was proof enough of who they were. The men who had accompanied the three English officers began to mutter angrily at the sight.

‘Prisoners,’ Arthur realised. ‘The men we lost in the tope.’

‘What have they done to them?’ Fitzroy asked quietly.

Arthur looked more closely and saw that most of the necks of the dead were twisted round at horrible angles. Some of them had what looked like huge nails sticking out of the top of their skulls. He stared at the bodies a moment, as nausea welled up in his stomach. Then he glanced at the jettis again. Surely not, he thought. God, please not that.

Baird had been watching his expression and read his thoughts precisely. ‘That’s right, Wellesley. These men did it. Beat the nails into the skulls of our men with their bare hands, while our men still lived. I know, I saw them do it when I was a prisoner here. Indeed, I lived with the thought that they would do that to me one day.’ Baird looked pale as he spoke.