‘Major Shee.’
‘Sir, if my regiment is to be part of the attack, then I should be with them.’
Harris shook his head. ‘I need a steady head to control the reserve column. As soon as the attack goes in, you are to march your column across the river and wait outside the breach. I’m trusting you to use your judgement as to whether Baird needs any support. Is that clear, Wellesley?’
There was little chance of altering the general’s mind at this stage and Arthur accepted his role in the coming battle with as much grace as he could muster.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Very well then, gentlemen. The men will move forward in the trenches before dawn and keep out of sight until the signal to attack is given at midday. Make sure all your officers are thoroughly briefed on the attack, and try to get some sleep, if you can.’ Harris gave them a wry grin, and then gestured towards the tent flap. His officers rose from their chairs and filed out.
‘Wellesley?’
Arthur turned back. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘A word, if you please.’
Once the last of the other officers had quit the tent Harris spoke. ‘I have good reasons for assigning you to command the reserve.’
‘I’m sure you do, sir.’
Harris looked at him sharply. ‘Don’t try to be ironic, Colonel. It doesn’t become a senior officer in my army.’
‘No, sir.’
Harris sighed. ‘The fact of the matter is that I need an officer with sound judgement to command the reserve. The assault column is a different matter. Baird is a born fighter and he wants revenge for the years he spent chained in the dungeons of Seringapatam. Who better to command the attack?’
‘Baird’s the man right enough, sir. But why am I to be denied my place at the head of the 33rd?’
‘If the attack goes badly I’ll need you to retrieve the situation. And if the attack fails, then it is vital that a path is kept open through which Baird and his men can retreat. That is why you are the best man to command the reserve, just as Baird is the best man to lead the attack.’
Arthur’s heart was warmed by his superior’s praise. ‘I apologise, sir. I should not have questioned your orders.’
‘No. You shouldn’t. Besides, there is another reason for keeping you out of the assault column.’
‘Sir?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough, assuming that we defeat Tipoo tomorrow.’
The last men of the assault columns were in position shortly before dawn rose across the lush green landscape surrounding Seringapatam. They carried only their muskets and a haversack for their cartridges to ensure that they were not encumbered as they negotiated the rubble that sloped up to the breach. As soon as they were in place, their officers ordered them to sit down and stay still. The sun rose up out of the light haze that hung over the verdant landscape, but as soon as it was high enough for the warmth of its rays to be felt the temperature rose quickly.Within an hour the men in the trenches, huddled together, began to stew in the heat of the Indian day. Around them, in view of the enemy, the engineers began work on a new battery close to the river’s edge in an attempt to mislead Tipoo about the imminence of an attack. The siege guns continued a monotonous bombardment of a section of the wall some distance upriver of the breach, while a handful of sepoy pickets patrolled the banks of the south Cauvery to discourage any attempt by the enemy to probe the lines of General Harris’s army.
Just after eleven in the morning Arthur made his way forward. He found Baird with the men of the ‘forlorn hope’: a handful of volunteers led by a sergeant whose task it was to rush the breach and hold it long enough for the main column to advance through the gap. Baird had brought a jug of arrack with him and it was being passed around the men as Arthur squatted down beside the massive Scottish officer. Baird eyed him suspiciously as they exchanged a quick salute.
‘What can I do for you, young Wellesley?’
Arthur stiffened slightly at being addressed in this manner, but then held out his hand. ‘I came to wish you good luck, sir.’
‘Good luck, eh?’ Baird nodded, then took Arthur’s hand in his great fist and squeezed it firmly as he shook.‘That’s damn good of you. Thank you. Here, Sergeant Graham, give me that jug.’
‘I’ll not be Sergeant for much longer, sir!’ the man grinned as he handed the arrack back to his commander, and patted the standard resting across his knees. ‘It’s Lieutenant Graham, the moment I plant this in the breach.’
Baird smiled. ‘Och, you’ll be dead before you even make the breach, you bloody fool.’
The men of the forlorn hope laughed nervously and Baird passed the jug to Arthur. ‘Have a drink, Wellesley.’
Arthur was about to refuse. He was tired, he had a headache and the last thing he wanted was any drink to cloud his mind. Then he looked at the men sitting round him and watching his reaction. Most of them were as good as dead, he realised with a stab of pity. So he made himself smile, as he instinctively wiped the rim of the jug on his sleeve and raised it.
‘Your health, gentlemen!’ He nodded and then took a steady draught of the fiery liquid before lowering the jug and handing it back to Baird. The Scot gave him a hearty wink and took a gulp before passing the jug on. ‘I’ll try to save a few of Tipoo’s men for you, Wellesley.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind?’ Arthur grinned for a moment, then his expression became serious again. ‘Good luck then, sir.’
‘Aye.’ Baird was reflective for a brief moment. ‘We’ll need it sure enough.’
Arthur returned to his command post. Behind him, over four thousand men in the reserve column were crouched in the sweltering discomfort of the rear trenches. He pulled out his fob watch and dabbed his brow on the back of his sleeve. It was almost time. The siege guns continued their relentless pounding and all seemed quite still on the walls of Seringapatam. Only a handful of tiny figures were in view on the ramparts, keeping watch on the English forces.
As the hands of his watch closed together at noon there came the shrill call of a whistle and at once a wave of redcoats erupted from the forward trenches, as if they were bursting up from the very earth itself. The men of the forlorn hope dashed forward behind Sergeant Graham as he held the rippling standard aloft, then they surged across the shallow current of the south Cauvery and up the far bank, dripping and glistening as they sprinted towards the ragged gap in the city wall.
The main column had swiftly formed up in companies, and rippled forward across the river as the first of the defenders to appear on the walls began to fire on the attackers. Arthur saw Sergeant Graham clamber on to the highest point of the rubble piled in the breach. He thrust the standard down and beckoned to his men, and then lurched to one side and collapsed. The standard slowly began to topple, before one of the men of the forlorn hope snatched at it and held it up. Beyond the wall, Arthur glimpsed scores of men in flowing white tunics armed with muskets scrambling up to the crest of the debris, and a vicious and unequal struggle began.
Already, Baird and his first company were emerging from the river and surging up into the breach. Arthur caught a brief glimpse of the Scot, swinging his claymore, before he disappeared beyond the wall, closely followed by his men. Not a single enemy soldier still lived in the breach or on the ramparts immediately either side of it. Redcoats appeared on the battlements, fanning out to the left and right and charging into the dense ranks of the defenders who were only now spilling out of the bastions further along the wall. For an instant Arthur could not help but envy those who were storming the Tipoo’s defences.All the months of painstaking preparation, long marches across inhospitable country and the back-breaking labour of trench-digging would be forgotten amid the explosive exhilaration of being part of that wild attack.
Arthur stared towards the trenches.The last of Baird’s men had cleared the near bank and there was no chance now of confusing the columns. He cleared his throat and shouted the order. ‘The reserve will advance!’