The Generals

Chapter 26

As the ships raised their anchors and were carried slowly downriver with the Hoogley’s current the sailors went aloft and lowered the sails to catch the light breeze blowing across the river. There was just enough wind to provide steerage way and the Indiamen glided gracefully past the battlements of Fort William and the seething slums and warehouses of Calcutta. Fortunately the breeze was from the other shore and so those on board were spared the stench that had greeted them when they had arrived in Calcutta at the start of the year.

Arthur was standing at the stern of his transport, arms folded as he stared at the fort, still furious with Sir John for taking away his command. After all the hard work he had done to make sure that the expedition stood every chance of success, another man had stepped in to reap all the credit. It stuck in his throat like a stone, yet he knew he must not reveal his frustration and anger, and must do his utmost to help General St Leger win his victory.

Footsteps approached from behind and a moment later Captain Fitzroy was beside him, leaning on the stern rail.

‘Action at last, sir. I can hardly wait to reach Manila.’

‘We should be there soon enough, Fitzroy,’ Arthur replied quietly. ‘Provided the weather holds. It’s late in the season. We don’t want to be caught out when the monsoons start.’

For a while they watched the city give way to irrigated field systems, dotted with occasional water buffaloes and small clusters of huts. Then Fitzroy stirred. ‘Do you think we’ll be able to take Manila?’

‘Of course,’ Arthur replied automatically. ‘You heard what the general said. The last report from our agent in Manila was that the garrison consisted of two battalions of veterans and the cannon in the forts are old and decrepit.They’ll be no match for us.’

‘If the agent is right.’

‘He’d better be. We paid him enough.’ Arthur smiled. ‘Rest easy. We’ll be back at Fort William before the year is out, and we’ll have given the men a victory to celebrate.’

‘Aye, and we’ll be the heroes of the Manila campaign when word gets back to London.’ Fitzroy smiled at the thought of the social capital he would be able to make out of his part in the expedition.

‘Calling it a campaign is stretching the truth a bit,’ Arthur countered.

‘You know that, and I know that, but none of the debutantes in Dublin and London will be any the wiser.’

Arthur shook his head pityingly.‘You are a scoundrel, Captain Fitzroy.’

‘Did you ever see a lady’s man who wasn’t, sir?’

For a moment Arthur pictured Kitty gazing adoringly up at a beau such as Fitzroy as he related to her how he had scaled the walls of Manila’s defences, flag in one hand and sword in the other, laying into the Spaniards with heroic abandon until he had taken the city virtually single-handed. How could a woman resist such a hero? The thought made him angry and he was suddenly tired of Fitzroy and his self-centredness.

‘Captain, the first company is scheduled to exercise this morning. Please see to it.’

Fitzroy was surprised by the sudden cooling in tone, then stood stiffly to attention and saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘Carry on then.’

Once Fitzroy had left him alone, Arthur turned back to watch the landscape passing slowly by as the flotilla edged down the Hoogley, until at noon the river merged with the great expanse of the Ganges river which carried the transports out into the Bay of Bengal and the ocean beyond.

Arthur had made it clear to his officers that they were responsible for the well-being of their men. During the voyage hammocks were scrubbed down every ten days, fitness training was taken daily and a number of dumb-bells had been allocated to each vessel to ensure that the men were able to do strengthening exercises. Twice a week, the men were given live firing practice at empty barrels deposited in the sea from one of the ship’s boats, while the sailors looked on from vantage points in the rigging and jeered poor shots, and grudgingly cheered each time the target was hit.

The flotilla from Calcutta was the first to arrive at Penang and anchored a safe distance offshore to wait for the transports from Madras. Arthur took the opportunity to hone the skills of his men with plenty of drilling on the sand. General St Leger remained on his vessel for most of the time, only making for the shore once in a while, to take a stroll in the dense forest that grew on the slopes of the hills a short distance inland. He usually took a pistol with him to obliterate any parrot or small mammal that strayed across his path.

Eleven days after the flotilla had arrived off Penang a lookout sighted sails approaching from the south-west. As word of the sighting spread from ship to ship the men on the decks scanned the horizon, shading their eyes against the glare coming off the surface of the sea.There was a tense atmosphere as the ships crept into view.The crews and soldiers aboard the transports had good reason to be nervous. Although the French navy had ceased to be much of a threat in the East Indies there were still plenty of privateers in these waters, a handful of which preferred to operate in small squadrons that would be more than a match for the Company vessels.Then the lookout aloft positively identified them as Indiamen and the tension was relieved, some of the men even cheering as the Madras squadron approached the flotilla and reduced sail. Even before the leading ship had dropped anchor a boat was launched and rowed hurriedly across to the transport carrying the general and his staff.

‘Now, what do you suppose that is all about?’ Fitzroy asked languidly.

Arthur shrugged. ‘We’ll know soon enough, I imagine. Someone’s in a pressing hurry to tell St Leger some news.’

‘I wonder what kind of news, sir?’ Fitzroy asked with a tinge of alarm. ‘Nothing that will stop us taking Manila, I trust. I sincerely hope the bloody Spanish haven’t gone and changed sides again.’

‘I wouldn’t be too concerned,’ Arthur responded easily.‘There are more than enough enemies of England in this part of the world. You’ll still get your chance to fight, and win that glory you’ve set your heart on. Trust me.’

He turned away from the side rail and called down the gangway for his steward to fetch his coat, hat and sword. As he checked his appearance in the small mirror held out by his steward a string of flags broke from the halyard of St Leger’s vessel.

The first mate of the Indiaman translated the signal. ‘Officer commanding to captains and senior army officers, repair aboard immediately.’

The heat in the cabin was stifling, even though the stern windows stood open and the vents on the skylight had been raised to admit whatever breeze was wafting over the anchored vessel. General St Leger, wearing a loose shirt, raised the dispatch he had received.

‘Bad news, I’m afraid, gentlemen. A French army, commanded by General Bonaparte, has knocked Austria out of the war. They’ve agreed preliminary terms and by now it is likely that the treaty is signed and sealed. The War Office in London has sent warnings to all our forces to expect increased French activity, now that they are free to concentrate their efforts outside Europe. A squadron of warships left Toulon back in April, and our spies claim that it was bound for Mauritius. If that is the case then they will be ready to operate against our naval and commercial shipping as early as September, a mere few weeks from now.’

‘Then we must proceed to Manila at once, sir,’ said Arthur. ‘Before they can arrive in these waters.’

‘Wait.’ The general brandished the letter again. ‘There’s more. The French navy is not the only threat, nor perhaps the most dangerous. The Goveror General has had fresh intelligence from his sources in Mysore. It seems that a small party of French officers arrived in Seringapatam at the end of June. They offered an alliance to Tipoo and possibly some form of assistance, be it money or weapons. Soon after they arrived Tipoo issued orders for the massing of his forces at Seringapatam. In view of this new threat Sir John has instructed us to reconsider the assault on Manila. IfTipoo decides to attack then our forces will be needed to subdue him. So I must decide whether to return to India, or proceed with the attempt to take Manila.’

The general dropped the dispatch on to the table and sat down. His officers sat in silence for a moment as they considered the situation outlined to them. One of the commanders of the Company battalions, Colonel Stephens, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. ‘What are your intentions, sir?’

‘My intentions?’ St Leger looked faintly bemused. ‘Why, to listen to the advice of my senior officers, of course.’

‘Sir, Manila is but a few days’ sail from here. At the moment I am confident we could take the place easily enough. But the longer we sit here, the better their chances of frustrating us.’

‘I’m aware of that, Stephens.’

‘Then we must strike quickly, sir. Take Manila, garrison it, then return here to await further orders.’

‘And what if Tipoo attacks while we are engaged at Manila?’

‘You know how those native armies are, sir. It will be some months yet before Tipoo is ready to take the field against us.’

‘That is true,’ the general conceded, and Stephens, sensing that his commander was wavering, pressed home his opinion.

‘Then continue with the operation against Manila, while we still have the advantage over the Spanish. Sir, we must not let Sir John’s timidity overrule sound judgement. Manila is ripe for the plucking, and with it most of Spain’s possessions in the East Indies. We’d be fools to let the chance of a great victory slip through our fingers for want of resolve - on the part of Sir John,’ he added quickly. ‘Strike now, sir, and snatch Spain’s prize colony for England.’ He slapped his hand down on the table. ‘That’s my advice, sir.’

Arthur had been listening to the exchange with a growing sense of despair at the fragility of his commander’s authority, and now he cleared his throat and shook his head. The general spotted the gesture at once.

‘What is your opinion, Colonel Wesley?’

Arthur quickly ordered his thoughts before he replied.

‘Sir, it is true that the best chance of taking Manila is now. If there is a strong force of French warships in the area they could make good use of Manila as a base of operations, in which case it would be foolhardy for us to attempt any attack on the place. Their ships would blow these Indiamen out of the water long before we could land our troops.We may only have a short time left in which it is practical to continue the operation. If you are to attack you must do it swiftly.’

‘There!’ Stephens nodded approvingly. ‘You see, sir? Now is the time for boldness.’

‘I haven’t finished,’ Arthur cut in firmly. ‘While there may be truth in what has been said, we have to consider other possibilities. What if we do take Manila, at great cost; or, worse, what if we are rebuffed and forced to retreat? Then we will have lost many men who may be needed if there is a war with Tipoo. Worse still, once word of our failure leaks out to the other principalities and states in India we will lose face, and that might be enough to spur the warlords who are still undecided about joining Tipoo to declare war on us. If you proceed to Manila, and fail, then you will be damned by those men back in England who will judge your actions.’

General St Leger stirred uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Damned if I do and damned to be forgotten by posterity if I don’t.’

‘Sir,’ Colonel Stephens leaned forward. ‘You have Manila in your grasp. All that remains is to pluck it.’

The general sat back and rubbed his forehead wearily. ‘I will let you know my decision as soon as I’ve considered the options. You may return to your ships.’

The men on the vessels anchored around the general’s Indiaman did not have long to wait. Scarcely half an hour after Arthur had returned from the flagship, signal flags rose up the halyards. Arthur and Fitroy turned to the first mate for an explanation.

‘All ships, prepare to make sail. Course, west by north,’ the mate intoned.

‘What does it mean?’ Fitzroy asked as the first orders were bellowed across the deck of the transport and the sailors went to their stations.

The mate scratched his chin.‘It means that we’re heading back to Calcutta.’

‘Calcutta . . .’ Fitzroy repeated quietly in a tone of disgust. ‘What a bloody waste of time.’

Arthur pressed his lips together. Once again, another chance to win his spurs had been snatched away from him.The war was likely to be over long before he could prove himself, and the only prospect that the future would hold out for him would be an undistinguished oblivion. He cursed the latest twist of fate with all his heart, and bitterly began to wonder how much more he could have achieved if only he had been one of the blessed few young soldiers who were the darlings of fate, like that damned fortunate Frenchman, Bonaparte.