‘Down,’ he hissed, and then Williams let out a groan. The other men stopped and fell silent and Arthur felt his heart beating against his chest like a mallet.
‘33rd!’ he called out, tightening his grip on the handle of his sword. The sounds resumed, growing closer, and one of the grenadiers laughed nervously. ‘Come on, you bastards, who is it?’
A musket fired close by and in its glare Arthur saw a handful of the enemy. Almost at once there was another shot and a blow struck him just above the kneecap, knocking his leg out from under him. Arthur fell back with a shout of surprise rather than pain.At once the enemy let out a cry and charged the grenadiers.
‘Let’s have ’em!’ Fitzgerald bellowed and ran forward. The grenadiers went after him with their bayonets lowered. Struggling back on to his feet Arthur ran his spare hand down his breeches until they came to a ragged tear over his knee.The cloth was sodden and when his fingers probed further a searing pain made him gasp. He stood up and limped towards the sounds of the fight nearby: the scrape of metal, the thud of blows and the groans of the combatants. A figure rose up in front of him, sword raised ready to strike. Just in time Arthur recognised the shape of the man’s hat.
‘Easy, Fitzgerald. It’s me!’
The young lieutenant froze for a moment and then laughed. ‘Sorry, sir.’
‘Where are the others?’
‘That way, sir.’ He turned and raised his arm, barely visible in the dark. ‘Over—’
Someone burst through the undergrowth just beyond Fitzgerald and then the lieutenant let out an explosive gasp as he was borne back, past Arthur, under the impact of a pike. An enemy soldier snarled with triumph as he drove the weapon on into the officer’s body and then, too late, he noticed Arthur, and the sabre scythed through the air and into his neck with a wet, crunching thud. Abruptly he released his hold on the pike and snatched at his throat, sinking to his knees before he toppled to one side with a gurgling sound. Arthur sheathed his sword and knelt beside Fitzgerald.
‘Oh, God . . . God . . .’ Fitzgerald moaned as his body trembled. ‘Sweet Jesus . . . it hurts.’
Arthur groped towards the shaft of the pike, felt along until he sensed Fitzgerald’s jacket and then fixed his grip on the pike. ‘Hold steady there.’
‘Sir?’ Fitzgerald writhed as the pike moved inside his stomach. Arthur gritted his teeth and wrenched the shaft and head of the weapon out and felt a rush of blood over his hands as the other man screamed.
‘Grenadiers!’ Arthur called out. ‘Over here! On me!’
There was a rustling as the men came back, breathing hard. ‘There you are, sir. Thought we’d lost you. Where’s Mr Fitzgerald?’
‘Here. He’s been injured. Did you deal with them? The enemy?’
‘Two down; the others ran for it. Not a scratch on us, sir.’
‘Good. Now, you, help Mr Fitzgerald. Get him over your shoulders.The rest of you find Williams and let’s get out of here. There’s nothing more we can do.’
‘What about you, sir?’ asked one of the grenadiers. ‘I heard you fall.’
‘I’m all right.’ Arthur replied through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t worry about me. Get moving.’
The nullah was closer than he had thought and shortly after the brief skirmish they emerged from the trees to see the bank rising up above them. As they struggled up the slope several figures rose up on either side.
‘33rd!’ Arthur snapped. ‘Colonel Wellesley. We’ve got wounded men here.We have to get them across to the other side. Lend a hand.’
The small party clambered into the water, helping Williams and Fitzgerald across to the other side.The lieutenant groaned in agony as he was manhandled over the nullah on the shoulders of three men, and he passed out before he reached the far bank. Arthur glanced back towards the impenetrable mass of the tope. There was still fighting going on in there, further off now, and he shook his head in pity and anger for the fate of his men before he turned and waded across the nullah.
‘Twenty-four casualties?’ Harris mused. ‘Not as bad as it could have been, Colonel. Too bad about Fitzgerald. He was a fine young man.’
It was shortly after midnight and Arthur stood before the general in the headquarters tent, still in sodden, muddy clothes. A bloodstained dressing had been tied round the flesh wound just above his knee. His face was rigid with barely suppressed rage as he replied. ‘Twenty-four of my men is bad enough, sir, considering they never should have been sent into the tope in the first place.’
‘It was a risk,’ Harris admitted. ‘And it failed. The tope is still in enemy hands. I had hoped we might save time by taking it tonight, but we’ll just have to make another attempt tomorrow, in daylight. I’ll give the job to Baird.’
‘Sir, I respectfully submit that I should command the second attempt.’
‘But you’re wounded.’
‘It was my task, sir. I deserve another chance.’
‘Really?’ Harris stared at him for a moment, and Arthur was sure that he would refuse.Then the general shrugged. ‘Very well, Wellesley, as you wish.The command is yours. But the 33rd needs a rest.You’ll have the Scottish Brigade for the job. Make sure you see it through.’
‘I will, sir.You have my word.’
‘Good. Now go and clean yourself up and get some sleep.’
‘Sir.’ Arthur saluted and turned painfully to stride out of the tent, only resorting to a limp when he was out of the general’s sight. As he rode Diomed back to the encampment of the Nizam’s column he decided that if the night’s disaster had taught him one thing, it was never to conduct any operations under cover of darkness, if it could be avoided. Never again would he lose control of his men in that way.The spectre of failure haunted him through the early hours. He tried to rest, but the vision of Fitzgerald’s face, as he died by the light of the surgeon’s lantern, returned to Arthur again and again, and robbed him of any sleep.
Chapter 49
Throughout April the army pushed its siege lines forward, capturing the enemy positions on the western bank of the south Cauvery river. The tope was taken in daylight and most of the bodies of the 33rd’s grenadiers were recovered, but eight remained unaccounted for and Arthur feared that they must have been taken prisoner. Once the enemy outposts had been cleared from in front of Seringapatam’s walls General Harris gave orders for the construction of strongly fortified batteries for the heavy siege guns that Arthur had procured while the army assembled for the campaign. At a range of nine hundred yards the guns methodically knocked out the enemy cannon along the western wall of Seringapatam before turning to pound the corner bastions into rubble.Then on the second day of May the batteries were aimed at the point along the wall that General Harris had chosen to be breached. An intense bombardment followed over the next two days, until a wide section of the city’s wall had been smashed through and Harris was satisfied that an assault could be made over the rubble.
That night he assembled his senior officers and announced his plan of attack.‘It’s important that we take the city on the first attempt.The first of the monsoon rains might arrive in the next two weeks and the brinjarristell me that their food supplies are starting to run down. So I have decided to throw as many men into the attack as can be spared from defending our camp.There will be three formations in the attacking force: two assault columns and a reserve. Major General Baird has volunteered to lead the assault. Given the antipathy between Tipoo’s men and our Madras sepoys I pray that we do not have to deploy them in the battle for Seringapatam. They will be held in reserve.’
‘Who is to command the reserve, sir?’ Arthur asked. He already knew that the 33rd had been selected for the assault force and was looking forward to leading them into the attack.
‘You are.’
‘Me?’ Arthur started and some of the other officers could not help smiling at his surprised expression.Arthur fought back a flush of irritation with himself. ‘But who is to lead my regiment, sir?’