Hervey beckoned to his coverman to get into the cutter before him. Besides the sailors at the oars, they were the only occupants of the general's two boats not wearing red. They settled towards the bow and Hervey took off his shako, then mopped his forehead and fastened closed the front of his tunic. 'Did you see anything of the cannonade?'
‘No sir,' said Lance-Corporal Wainwright, grimacing. 'I was helping bring shot. My ears are still ringing.'
'Mine too,' said Hervey, looking at his watch. It was not yet one o'clock.
‘Pull!' called the midshipman, and a dozen oars began ploughing the flat brown water of the Rangoon river.
In not many minutes they were grounding on the shallow slope of the bank in front of what remained of the great teak gates of the stockade - no need even for wet feet. Tidy files of redcoats, King's and Company's alike, marched ahead of them with sloped arms as if at a field day.
Hervey jumped from the boat wondering if his misgivings had been wholly unfounded after all. Eyre Somervile's misgivings, rather, for it had been his friend at court who had voiced them first. His own doubts could be only those concerning the military arrangements, although in truth these he found worrying enough.
Somervile had been convinced that the greatest peril lay in King Bagyidaw's self-delusion. The third in council of the Bengal presidency had his own sources of information in Ava, which told him that the king was surrounded by sycophants and believed all their blandishments about the invincibility of the Burman soldier. Indeed, Somervile had learned that the king had not even been told of Hervey's spoiling raid at the headwaters of the Chittagong river three years before; that, instead, the king believed it had been the hand of Nature that had laid a torch to his boats, for no barbarian could set foot on Avan soil without the authority of the Lord of the White and All Other Elephants. And anyway, did not he, Bagyidaw, have the greatest of generals - Maha Bundula - to pit against an impertinent invader?
Eyre Somervile was therefore of the decided opinion that the fall of Rangoon would merely presage a long and arduous campaign. And he was by no means convinced, either, that the Burman people would welcome the invader as a liberator. Why, indeed, should they, if they too believed that Maha Bundula would throw him back into the Bay of Bengal whence he had come? And if that were to happen, death would follow automatically for anyone who had in the least part aided the invader. Eyre Somervile, after years of study, and years of practical business, did not believe for one minute that a single Burman would risk his neck in the Company's cause.
But this landing at Rangoon was so easy, the resistance so lacking in spirit, that perhaps, thought Hervey, Somervile had given too much credence to his admittedly well-placed agents. There were things he must see for himself, and quickly. 'If you have no direct need of me, sir,' he said to his principal, as matter-of-fact as he could, 'I should like to make a reconnaissance of the town.'
'Of course, Hervey, of course,' replied Major Seagrass, distracted. General Campbell's military secretary had somehow contrived to be the only member of the staff to get his feet wet, and was trying to rid his boots of water. There'll be scarce enough for one of us to do till the headquarters are open.'
Hervey had used the military term to describe his intended survey of the town, and it was certainly the case that he had a military purpose to his perambulation, but in truth he was just as curious to see the sights of the fabled seaport of the Burmans. By all accounts some of its temples were singular. 'Very well, then, sir. I shall report back by sunset at the latest.' He saluted and made away before Seagrass could have second thoughts.
Corporal Wainwright unclipped his carbine and took a cartridge from his crossbelt pouch. He bit off the end, tapped a little powder into the priming pan, then poured the remainder down the barrel, dropped in the ball from between his teeth and rammed it home with the swivel rod.
Hervey noted with satisfaction that it was done in mere seconds.
'Just in case, sir,' said Wainwright, feeling it necessary to explain the precaution even with so many redcoats abroad.
Hervey smiled grimly. 'Don't be too sure that you'll draw the charge, Corporal Wainwright. The Burmans may have fled, but I doubt they'll count themselves beaten.'
There were so many infantrymen about the streets, however. Even if the Burmans counter-attacked, Hervey thought they must be repulsed before they could get a footing on the stockades. But in fleeing before the bombardment, they had made a good job of leaving little for the comfort of the invader. House after house was empty of portables, the heavier furniture was broken up, and Hervey was further disquietened by the evident system with which it had been accomplished. It spoke of a discipline that might be turned to good effect against an invader. It was evidence, certainly, that Calcutta's assumption of cooperation was wholly ill-conceived. As he made his way past groups of infantrymen waiting for the Serjeants to allocate a billet (at least they would have a roof over their heads when the rains came), Hervey began to fear the worst - that the rice stores and granaries had been emptied too, and the cattle driven into the jungle.
He tramped the town for an hour. It proved an unlovely place, with few buildings of any solidity and aspect, even the official ones. In the wake of the redcoats he saw not a house whose doors or windows remained barred, but neither did he see a man with anything more valuable in his hands than an iron cooking pot or a pan. Here and there a Buddhist shrine would impress, as much by the gilded contrast with its surroundings as by any true merit, and from time to time he would catch sight of the soaring pagoda of Shwedagon a league or so to the north, rising above the squat meanness like St Paul's above the rookeries of the City.
'I would lay odds that yonder place will be a regular hornet's nest,' said Hervey to Wainwright as they climbed a wall to get a better view. 'I'll warrant that's where they've bolted with the treasury.'
There was shooting still, sporadic shots from the redcoats searching the streets. But it did not trouble him. He knew they were aimed not at the enemy but at obstinate locks. It had been the same every time they had captured a place in Spain. It took a while, always, for the officers to regain order -hot blood, the exhilaration of being alive after the fight, the prospect of a bit of gold, the certainty of finding something to slake a thirst. That was all it was, but it could be brute enough when it ran unchecked for too long. At least he would not see the worst of it today, for there had been no fighting to hot the blood, no long march beforehand. Only the wretched, clammy heat of the day.