Arthur returned the officer’s salute and returned to his tent for breakfast. Once he had eaten, he turned his attention to the latest intelligence reports that had come in from the hircarrahagents. Here in the northern part of India they could not hope to pass through the Mahratta camps unnoticed, and had to report on enemy movements from a distance. Already it was quite clear that they had little ability to judge the size of enemy formations and Scindia was reported to be in command of anything between fifty and a hundred and fifty thousand men. By contrast, Arthur knew exactly how many men he had in his army. In addition to two and a half thousand regulars there were another seven thousand sepoys and four thousand Mysore cavalry. Colonel Stevenson’s slightly smaller force was already marching to join them. Combined, they should be a match for Scindia’s horde.
All day the guns boomed out in a slow rhythm and by early afternoon there were signs that the walls were beginning to crumble as each impact brought a shower of mortar and rubble tumbling down into the outer ditch. The bombardment continued the following morning and a breach finally opened. More shot widened the gap until finally the ammunition gave out late in the afternoon.
The chief engineer returned Arthur’s telescope to him and pursed his lips for a moment before he gave his judgement. ‘I’d say that the breach was practical, sir. We could fire a few rounds of case shot in to clear away the enemy before our boys go in. Do you wish to make the assault today, sir?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then I’ll have the guns made ready.’
‘Very well,’ Arthur agreed. ‘See to it.’
As the sun dipped towards the horizon, burnishing the landscape in a fiery glow and casting long dark shadows, Arthur formed the bulk of his army up opposite the breach. Only the leading battalions would make the actual assault, but he had calculated the impression such a show would make on his enemies and shortly before the attack was due to begin a white flag appeared on the nearest bastion, hurriedly waved from side to side to attract the attention of the British.Arthur went forward and met the killadar’s representatives in front of the battery. In addition to a man bearing a makeshift white flag, there was a Mahratta official and a French officer.The latter saluted Arthur as they approached. Arthur spoke first, in French.
‘If you wish to spare yourself from my men, then the fort must be surrendered at once.’
‘My commander, the killadar, wishes to know what terms you will offer.’
‘I’ve already stated my terms,’ Arthur replied. ‘Surrender now, or perish.’
There was a brief exchange between the Mahratta and the Frenchman before the latter continued. ‘The killadarwishes to negotiate.’
‘The negotiations are over. I will not permit the killadarto play for time. I will give him ten minutes to make his decision, from the moment we finish speaking. You may tell him that he and his men will be permitted to quit the fort and I will give them two days’ grace before I advance from Ahmadnagar.’
‘That is a generous offer,’ the French officer conceded. ‘I will do my best to see that it is accepted, sir.’
Arthur nodded, and then drew out his fob watch and looked at it pointedly as he muttered, ‘Ten minutes, then.’
Just as the hands on the watch crept towards the deadline, the gates of the fortress were thrown open and the garrison began to file out, glancing nervously at the massed ranks of the British troops formed up in front of them. As the Mahrattas formed a makeshift column, a few hastily loaded wagons and carts trundled over the bridge across the ditch, and finally the killadarand his senior officers emerged. Accompanied by the French officer they approached Arthur and bowed their heads respectfully, before the killadarlooked at the British general in frank admiration and spoke briefly, pausing to allow his French officer to translate.
‘He says that there is no dishonour in surrender to an army that could make such short work of the pettahand its garrison . . . He says the British are a strange people. You came here in the morning, looked at the pettahwall, walked over it, killed all the defenders, and returned to breakfast. What enemy can withstand you?’
Arthur forced himself to keep his face expressionless, and the French officer laughed before he continued. ‘I doubt any native army has seen anything like it before. I can imagine the effect it will have on Scindia’s men when the killadartells the tale,’ he concluded shrewdly. ‘You are a formidable adversary, General. I fear we may meet again soon.’
‘Not if you leave India,’ Arthur replied firmly.
‘Even if I did, sir, I am sure that a man of your talent will be called back to fight in Europe and I fear for my countrymen.’
‘You are most generous in your praise, sir,’ Arthur replied tersely. ‘Now, if you would be so kind as to ask the killadarto move his column out, I have a fortress to occupy and a campaign to fight.’
The French officer saluted and then translated for the Mahratta commander before they strode off to join their column. The moment the Mahrattas shambled away to the north, Arthur led his men into the fortress of Ahmadnagar.
With a secure base to his rear, garrisoned by a battalion of Company soldiers, Arthur moved north across the Godavery river, while Colonel Stevenson marched towards him across the territory of Hyderabad. As the summer sun baked the landscape the two British columns marched deeper into enemy territory, closely following reports of the movement of Scindia’s army. Such was the heat during daytime that the army broke camp while it was still dark and covered as much ground as possible before late morning, when they made camp and rested in whatever shade they could find. Then, late in September, news came that Scindia was at the village of Borkardan, two days’ march away. Arthur hastily sent a message to Stevenson instructing him to join Arthur’s column there to confront the enemy and force a battle. As word spread through the ranks that the enemy was close to hand the sense of excitement and tension was palpable.
On the morning of the 23rd the army ended their march at the village of Naulniah. If their intelligence was good, the enemy was camped another day’s march away, but already the soldiers were scanning the surrounding landscape for any signs of enemy horsemen. While the dusty columns of infantry, gun limbers and cavalry tramped into the area marked out for the camp the usual cavalry pickets were sent out to cover the approaches to the camp.
Arthur had just retired to his tent for some refreshment when he saw through the tent flaps a patrol from the 19th Dragoons come galloping up to the array of tents that formed the army’s headquarters. Their cornet hurriedly dismounted and beckoned to a brinjarrimerchant riding with them. Arthur set down his cup of tea and rose to meet the dragoon officer.
‘What is it?’
‘Sir, this man ran into our patrol three miles from here. He says he was on his way to sell food to Scindia’s troops in their camp, nearby.’
Arthur’s attention snapped to the brinjarrimerchant. He questioned him in Hindoostani. ‘Where is Scindia?’
‘Two or three coosfrom here, sahib.’
No more than six miles, Arthur calculated, his pulse quickening.
‘How many men are in this camp?’ he asked, and then realised that there was no question of the merchant’s being able to judge the number accurately. He tried another tack. ‘How big is this camp, then?’
The merchant paused a moment before he replied, struggling to work out the scope of what he had seen. ‘Sahib, they are camped along the Kaitna river, for a stretch of three coos.’
‘Three coos?’ Arthur repeated, astonished. He made a quick estimate and felt his heart beat fast with excitement as he realised that the enemy force must be at least a hundred thousand men strong. He had found Scindia’s army. Better still, he had caught them in camp. Arthur looked over his army arriving to make camp for the night. They had already marched fourteen miles. Stevenson was still several miles distant and could not hope to reach the enemy camp before the end of the day. Yet there was not an instant’s hesitation as he made his decision. Turning back to the tent he called out to Fitzroy.