THE MORROW OF VICTORY.
“/We/ are honoured, Mrs Ambrose,” said Sir Harry, with his most
courtly bow, as Eveleen hurried out of her tent--as quickly as its
extreme smallness would allow--to receive the dusty and grimy company
that rode up. The baggage and hospitals had moved on in the wake of
the tide of battle, and the night’s bivouac was on the other side of
the watercourse which had served the enemy as a trench--close to the
stretch of ground on which the Khans and their army had been encamped
the night before. “Valour would lose half its reward without the
approbation of the fair.”
“Ah then, Sir Harry, you have spoilt my compliment that I was going to
offer! What’s the use of my telling you y’are brave, when y’have said
it about yourselves already?”
“But how could we be other than brave when we had Mrs Ambrose to fight
for?” asked the General gallantly.
“Cot, Evie!” cried Brian. “Acknowledge us all as heroes now, or
confess your smiles have lost their power.”
“Where’s that wreath of mine?” demanded Richard--a little above
himself, like the rest, after this wonderful day.
“Here!” said Eveleen unexpectedly, bringing it out from behind her,
but he was equal to the occasion.
“Present it to the General, then, pray. We may all be heroes, as your
brother says, but there would have been no victory without him.”
“Will y’accept it, Sir Harry?” Eveleen held up the wreath.
“May it be conferred upon Black Prince instead? At one moment I
confess I was on the point of saving my valuable life by sacrificing
his, poor beast! so it’s fitting he should have some reward,
especially since poor Kenton---- But how is my young hero?”
“Quite happy once we heard the soldiers cheering for the victory----”
Eveleen was arranging the wreath over the charger’s ears. “They took
his arm off soon after that, and I have not seen him since, but the
surgeon says he will do well. Then was it he or Black Prince saved
your life, Sir Harry?”
“Young Kenton, as it happened. A big strapping fellow of an Arabit
came over the bank, saw me riding alone in front of the line, and made
straight for me. With these broken fingers, I was powerless to defend
myself, but I got half the reins into that hand, with frightful agony,
intending as he cut at me to give Black Prince’s head a chuck that
would make the poor animal the recipient of the blow instead of me.
But Kenton ran forward and took the cut on his arm, thrusting at the
Arabit, who warded it off with his shield, and would have cut at us
again, had not a soldier come up in time with his bayonet. So you see
I have the three of ’em to thank.”
“I’m jealous,” said Eveleen discontentedly. “What were these two men
of mine doing, Sir Harry?”
“Staying where they were told, ma’am, and carrying messages when they
were required. D’ye think I wanted the whole staff trotting up and
down with me to draw the enemy’s fire, and riding down our own men
when they turned? I tell you there was no room for parade manœuvres
of that sort. Our line was never more than three yards from the
enemy’s--sometimes only one. So don’t scold these good fellows when
they deserve to be praised rather. We shall meet at dinner,
gentlemen.”
He bowed again to her as he hobbled into his little shabby tent, and
the staff separated hastily, to make such improvements in their
appearance as the scanty materials at hand permitted, for the
General’s strict regulations as to baggage were still rigorously
enforced. Once more the party sat on boxes, with two larger boxes put
together for a table, and as always when Sir Harry was on active
service, the only drink was water. Bottled beer--which every European
on the Bombay side regarded as a necessary of life,--wine, and spirits
were sternly excluded from his campaigning requisites, as also smoking
materials of all kinds. But the meal was cheerful, even hilarious, and
every one had something to tell of the events of the day.
“What a battle!” said Sir Harry at last. “Three mortal hours of
helter-skelter fighting--musket against tulwar and shield,--and the
two lines within arm’s reach of one another the whole time. I saw our
soldiers loading in their haste without using the ramrod at all,
merely knocking the butt of the piece on the ground, and coolly
changing blunted flints while presenting the bayonet at the enemy.
Were there ever such troops?”
“Was there ever such a commander, General?” said Brian, in the easy
way in which an Irishman can pay a compliment without appearing
fulsome. “The troops would have broke and run time and again without
you to rally ’em. They would have done nothing without you.” The rest
murmured hearty assent.
“So the generous honest fellows testified when they gave me that cheer
in the midst of the battle,” said Sir Harry, with deep emotion.
“Believe me, gentlemen, I accepted it as the most moving tribute ever
paid to a British commander. But I had no choice. From the moment I
knew of the numbers of the enemy, and perceived his dispositions, I
saw I must lead my soldiers against him before they were aware of his
masses, and remain myself in the forefront of the fight throughout. A
merciful Providence has justified my prevision.”
“But did you guess they had the river-bed filled with troops, Sir
Harry?” asked Eveleen eagerly. “Sure you said----”
Sir Harry looked at her with humorous apology. “I did, ma’am--but I
knew what I must find unless the Arabit commander were a consummate
fool. He ain’t that, as his posting the ambush in the wood on our
right showed, but inexperience--or contempt of his foe”--a laugh went
round--“lost him the results he ought to have gained. That opening in
the wall should have been masked, and some sort of platform devised
from which to fire. As it was, the breach served me as a warning that
troops were in the wood ready to attack us in flank, and when I looked
inside and saw that by no possibility could they line the wall with
matchlockmen and mow us down, I had but to send the heroic Crosse and
his company to stop that hole as a cork stops a bottle, and the ambush
was rendered nugatory--though my brave Leonidas perished in holding
the gap. Yes”--as Eveleen started,--“poor Crosse has fallen, with half
his men. We could send them no assistance once we ourselves were
engaged, even had we had any to send. Only by breaching the wall with
cannon when we reached the bank were we able to relieve the
hard-pressed remnant.”
“Poor Crosse saved the army, General,” said Richard gruffly.
“Indeed you are right. The troops we had in Spain would have gone over
the bank and through the enemy up t’other side. But these young
soldiers--seeing a riverful of such ugly customers, jumping up at ’em
with nasty shining swords like so many Jack-in-the-boxes--they were
astonished, they hesitated. Had a flank attack come at the same
moment, they must have broke. But as it was, they only needed
rallying.”
“‘Only,’ General!” said Captain Stewart. “A good many times over.”
“True, but what other troops would have responded as they did? But it
should not have been necessary. Upon my soul, gentlemen”--forgetting
prudence in his warmth--“if Crosse saved the army, Welborne came
within an ace of destroying it. That charge was due an hour before.”
“Ah, we were listening for it--Mr Kenton and I!” cried Eveleen. “‘Why
won’t they charge?’ says he, over and over again, and at last it came.
But why not before, Sir Harry?”
“Because Welborne ‘thought it right to wait for definite orders----’”
the General mimicked the intonation ferociously. “I posted him there
with orders to charge the village at all costs if he saw me hard
pressed--and he couldn’t see; he must wait to be told. That gallant
fellow Keeling was straining at the leash, sending insulting messages
to Welborne to try and move him--at last preparing to charge the place
with the Khemistan Horse alone, which must have meant their
annihilation, when happily the orders arrived which I had snatched a
moment in the thickest press of the battle to send, wondering what in
the world had taken the cavalry. And then they did go! Straight at the
village, contemptuous of the bullets that rained upon ’em, over the
nullahs, heedless of emptied saddles, through the guns, sabring the
gunners, then through the camp of the Khans, driving its occupants
before ’em in headlong flight! Then at last our stubborn antagonists
in the watercourse, seeing their rear menaced, gave ground slowly and
sullenly, yielding to us reluctantly the blood-stained trench for
which we had so long contended. Mrs Ambrose--gentlemen--I give you my
word that when I stood in my stirrups and shouted, ‘The enemy are
beaten! God save the Queen!’ and my glorious soldiers answered me with
three feeble but indomitable cheers, I would not have changed
places--Heaven forgive me!--with the Duke after Waterloo!”
No comparison on earth could have meant more to Sir Harry, and his
voice trembled as though he feared sacrilege in venturing upon it, but
the little company round the table rose up with one accord and cheered
him again. The men were too much moved to speak, but Eveleen was never
at a loss for words, even while she dashed her tears away with a wet
handkerchief.
“And why would you, Sir Harry? Sure the odds were smaller against us
at Waterloo than to-day.”
“My dear lady, never say such a thing again. At Waterloo the Duke
confronted the greatest commander the world has ever known--and the
world itself was the prize. Here I was faced only by an unlettered
barbarian, knowing nothing of the lessons of military history, nor
skilful enough even to take advantage of an inexperienced adversary
commanding young troops. But after to-day I am no longer
inexperienced. Last night I wondered whether I could conduct a battle;
now I know I can. And my troops are not young soldiers any longer. Now
that they have seen the proud Arabit--not in flight, but stalking
unwillingly away, with frequent backward looks of hatred and
contempt--they may respect him, but they will fear him no longer.
Never again will they be checked by such a surprise as that of
to-day.”
“But sure there’ll be no more fighting?” she asked in dismay. “Not
after a battle like this?”
“What do you say, Ambrose? Have we seen the last of ’em yet?”
“I fear not, General. There are too many left.”
“My notion precisely. D’ye see, ma’am, a lot of these fellows must
have run away just because they saw others running--not because we
beat ’em, for there weren’t enough of us to do it. Moreover, I have
reason to believe they had not succeeded in bringing up all their
forces. Kamal-ud-din, in particular, I am assured was not present.”
“But the prisoners would maybe be telling you that just to make the
victory less, Sir Harry.”
“There ain’t any prisoners. No quarter was given--it was impossible.
The wounded Arabit, writhing on the ground, would cut at the legs of
the soldier trying to avoid trampling on him. I myself sought in vain
to save a brave fellow from the bayonet of one of our men. He
disdained my offer, and fought grimly to the end. ‘It’s butcher’s work
to-day, and nothing else, General,’ says the victor to me as he
withdrew his weapon. No, I have learnt nothing from the foe. My
informants are my own spies, who tell me that Kamal-ud-din, with his
ten thousand followers, had not come up. More and more do I rejoice
that I took the risk presented to me. I own I was tempted to hold off
for a while this morning, and let my artillery play upon the enemy’s
position before attempting the attack. What would have been the
result? Time, on which, unknown to me, all depended, would have been
lost. If the Khans had not taken courage to endeavour to outflank me,
Kamal-ud-din must have caught me in the rear. At least he will think
twice before doing so now. They know this cock can fight.”
“Ah, but tell me,” cried Eveleen, rather maladroitly--it was the
suggestion of loss of time that had been the connecting link in her
mind, “what has happened Colonel Bayard? Did you meet him at all?”
“He has not come in yet, but he had some distance to march. I wished
over and over again I had his two hundred sepoys, and especially the
European officers, with me, but he can quite well claim that the smoke
he raised alarmed the enemy, and prevented their making off in that
direction.” Sir Henry spoke in measured tones, but in the minds of all
present was the thought of Colonel Bayard’s unceasing efforts to bring
about further delay, and the disaster they might have caused. The
General spoke again in his ordinary voice.
“But without information from Bayard, or even my spies, I can see with
my own eyes that the enemy are by no means vanished away. There are
large bodies of ’em hanging about still in a highly suspicious
manner--ready, no doubt, to fall on our flanks should we attempt a
night march, or to harass us in any other respect. But they will find
no opportunity. I can’t order the cavalry to disperse ’em, for I have
not enough, and those I have are worn out with to-day’s exertions, and
I have work for ’em to-morrow; but if they venture to attack us, I
think they’ll have a hard nut to crack. Tell me, ma’am, do you remark
any peculiar feature about this camp?”
“Only that it seems smaller--more compact; and there are fewer natives
about--more soldiers,” said Eveleen hesitatingly. Sir Harry laughed
triumphantly.
“Aha, Ambrose! your good lady has a sharp eye. Yes, ma’am; from this
night’s bivouac the camp-followers are excluded. Their numbers and
their lack of discipline would embarrass any force--have ruined many,
in Ethiopia and elsewhere. The moment an attack is delivered the
terror-stricken multitude, with cries of panic, seek the opportunity
to escape, urging before them their animals, often their sole
possession. The disorderly mass, rushing upon the troops, bursts
through the ranks, and leaves an opening of which the enemy is waiting
to take advantage. But to-night we are formed in square, and the
camp-followers are outside at a convenient distance, while the
baggage, as you see, is in the centre. Should an alarm be raised, and
the followers run in upon the square, the soldiers are warned to fire
upon them and the enemy alike. More bloodshed--eh? Believe me, it
ain’t by any desire of mine, but I must safeguard the lives of my
troops. As I rode over the field just now, and beheld the heaps of
dead, I said to myself, ‘Am I guilty of these horrid scenes?’ but my
conscience refused to reproach me.”
“And well it might, General!” said Brian heartily. “Is there one of us
here hasn’t heard it said over and over again, ‘The General’s the only
officer in the force that don’t wish for a fight’?”
“Because I have seen battles before now--such as you young fellows
hardly dream of--and know their full horrors. Well, you will all
justify me, when I am dead and gone. Gentlemen, I am indebted to you
for your services to-day, and you won’t find me forgetful. To-morrow I
shall ask you, it may be, for others even more arduous. I send off a
squadron at dawn to demand the surrender of Qadirabad on pain of being
stormed, while we face about to deal with Kamal-ud-din when he comes
up--if he comes up, perhaps I should say.”
He stood up stiffly to shake hands with each of his guests. “Good
night, ma’am; good night, good night! I wish you would take order with
this brother of yours. He goes about looking for personal combats,
which I tell him ain’t becoming in a staff officer. After having his
horse killed under him in the bed of the watercourse, what does he do
but seek out and slay one of the principal chiefs of the enemy, in the
midst of his followers? There’s a fire-eater for you--eh?”
“Brian!” Eveleen’s tone was poignant, “d’ye tell me Cromaboo is
killed? I saw you were riding Bawn, but I thought----”
“Will you listen to her? She’d rather her own and only brother was
killed, than his horse!” cried Brian reproachfully.
“Come along, my dear. We are taking up the General’s time,” said
Richard, and she obeyed reluctantly. It was the kind of evening on
which it seems impossible to go to bed as if nothing had happened.
Colonel Bayard was in camp in the morning--very well pleased with
himself in the honest conviction that his expedition had contributed
materially to the General’s success. His force, on the other hand,
were so disgusted that their comrades found it advisable not to
mention the battle to them. To spend a whole day in trying to set fire
to a forest which would not burn, and from which the enemy had
silently vanished in the night, while eight miles away a
life-and-death struggle was going forward--as the booming of the guns
showed,--this was enough to make any troops angry. A little ray of
hope had brightened their path as they approached the camp towards
midnight, for an alarm of some sort had led to heavy firing; but if it
was really due to an attack by the enemy--and not to a panic among the
excluded camp-followers, who suffered heavily when they tried to find
refuge in the square--it was quickly beaten off. The General, wrapped
in his cloak, slept through it all, and even through Colonel Bayard’s
efforts to wake him and report, but in the morning he was as fresh and
cheerful as a youngster of twenty. He had already put things in motion
for the day when he met his staff at breakfast in the shivering dawn,
and at that uncomfortable hour they found his good humour little short
of irritating. But knowing him, they understood it when they realised
the stake for which he was playing.
“In an hour from now we should receive the reply of the Khans.” He
dropped the remark into the group round the table like a bomb.
“Have you summoned the city already, General?” asked Colonel Bayard,
laughing.
“I have. Keeling is gone off with a flag of truce, and the ten
best-mounted men he could pick from his regiment, so as to produce a
good impression.”
“And what terms do you offer the Khans, if I may ask?”
“Terms, sir?” explosively. “Their lives!”
“Nothing more?”
“Nothing more.” In Sir Harry’s voice there was no response to the
dismay in Colonel Bayard’s. “And there will be no haggling, neither.
They will find me as hard as iron. Why”--he smote his hand on the
table,--“I can afford nothing else. For the sake of having Qadirabad
behind me as a strong place to protect my wounded and baggage, I have
entered on this game of brag, but had the enemy the slightest
suspicion that it was brag, our goose would be cooked. What are those
bodies of armed men doing hanging about on all sides of us--within
cannon-shot, even? The city must be mine by noon, and then I will turn
upon these Arabit stragglers, and make up Kamal-ud-din’s mind for him.
With another couple of regiments of horse, I could disperse ’em in
style; but the cavalry is knocked up by the battle and the long march
before it, and the camels couldn’t drag the guns another mile. In half
an hour the hospitals and the baggage-train will set forward gently
towards Qadirabad, guarded by the cavalry at a walk, and I trust the
enemy, not knowing our plight, will take the movement as evidence of
my relentless determination. You’ll go with ’em, ma’am”--suddenly to
Eveleen, who was listening eagerly,--“but you won’t be rid of us long.
We have--er--a bit of tidying up to do here, and then the rest of the
force will follow.”
“And occupy the Fort to-night, Sir Harry?”
“H’m--hardly, I think. We shall see.”
“I presume you will listen to nothing from me, General,” broke in
Colonel Bayard anxiously; “but I can’t reconcile it with my conscience
not to tell you that this is madness. The city is packed with Arabits
armed to the teeth, devoted adherents of the Khans, on whose ruin you
are determined. You propose to drive them to desperation----”
“Not listen to you!” exploded Sir Harry. “Pray, sir, how long is it
since I listened to your repeated assurances that there were no armed
men in the city save the personal servants of the Khans? You are
singing to a different tune now. I have listened to you till you have
nearly succeeded in making an end of us all. If my intention be
madness, it is the calculated madness that stakes all upon a single
throw, and wins. The Khans shall have no further consideration--I owe
them none. My sole aim is the safety of my troops.”
“I see--I know,” sadly. “You must pardon my warmth, Sir Henry. The
Khans have been the principal object of my consideration for so
long--it is painful to me, you may guess, to see them overthrown. Be
sure, sir, I shall venture no further criticism.”
“Nonsense, man! I shall invite your remarks, and you will give them,
dozens of times in the next day or so, I make no doubt. But in this
matter my mind is made up.”
“And glad I am to hear it!” murmured Eveleen under her breath, meeting
a return glance of sympathy even from the well-trained eye of Richard.
Lovable as was Colonel Bayard’s chivalrous forbearance towards the
Khans, there were very few Europeans in Khemistan to whom it had not
by this time become decidedly exasperating, and she left the
breakfast-table in quite a happy frame of mind to pack up her few
possessions. Her place in the line of march was duly appointed
her--ahead of the hospital doolies, which again were followed by the
baggage-animals, so as to escape the dust these kicked up,--and she
exchanged a cheerful salutation with young Kenton as she passed him.
Guarded by the cavalry ahead and on either flank, the column moved
off--towards the long fortress on the hill, whose massive tower loomed
above the intervening jungle-clad flats, and dominated the town on the
slopes beneath it. Keen-eyed watchers on its ramparts might even have
been able to trace the course of yesterday’s battle--be able now to
discern what they read as the victor’s advance. The slow pace at which
the cavalry moved, owing to the fatigue of their horses, must have
seemed to the Khans and their followers the relentless deliberation of
fate, for the Vakils who were on their way from the city with Captain
Keeling and his flag of truce besought Sir Harry with anguish as soon
as they beheld him to stop the march until he himself was present to
control his troops. He sent a messenger after the convoy at once, and
a halt was called, to the joy of both man and beast. The General’s
colloquy with the Vakils was brief and businesslike, carrying
conviction to their hearts, which could not conceive it possible that
such demands could come from the commander of a weak tired force,
already frightfully reduced from its original strength. To them the
bent little man who emerged growling from the dirty tent hardly large
enough to shelter him was the irresistible disposer of many legions,
and when he had once cut short their elaborate compliments and
lamentable pleading, they offered no protest against his hard terms.
They would carry them back to their Highnesses, they said, and return.
“By noon, then!” snapped Sir Harry, with appalling ferocity.
“Otherwise---- Well, I shall have buried my dead by that time, and my
soldiers will have had their breakfast. Qadirabad would make a fine
supper for them!”
The deputation shuddered and withdrew--noting, to their horror, that
the tents which had sheltered the European part of the army during the
night were already being struck, and that the advanced-guard which had
been halted at their request resumed its march as soon as they had
passed it. It was abundantly clear that Sir Henry would be as good as
his word, for by noon his approaching troops were easily visible from
the gate of the Fort. Panic-stricken, the Vakils issued forth again,
bearing the entreaty of their panic-stricken masters that the Bahadar
Jang would deign to stay his victorious course. The Khans would
surrender, they were on the point of doing so; their palanquins were
actually being prepared.
“Before the gate, then,” said Sir Harry grimly. “They will find me
waiting for them,” and he halted his troops and bade them stand to
arms beneath the wall of the Fort. The soldiers grumbled horribly at
being cheated of their noonday rest, but not a man would willingly
have been absent when the procession of scarlet palanquins was seen
approaching, escorted by the usual gorgeous retinue mounted on gaily
caparisoned horses and camels. The little army which had yesterday
overthrown more than twenty times its own number formed square to
receive them, Sir Harry on his black Arab in the midst, with Colonel
Bayard beside him, and the staff behind. All were in field dress, worn
and soiled, for their scanty baggage allowed no finery, and the
General, spectacles on nose as usual, wore his shabby blue uniform and
the curious helmet tilted well over his eyes. To Eveleen, watching
from the background, the sense of drama was almost painfully present
as the six Khans, emerging one by one from their palanquins, made
their way humbly on foot to the conqueror, and proffered him their
jewelled swords, which he bade them retain. Gul Ali was almost maudlin
in his self-abasement, but Khair Husain evidently intended to carry
things with a high hand. He demanded jovially of Colonel Bayard where
he had been the day before, since he had hunted for him all over the
battlefield that he might be able to surrender to a friend, and he
offered the General something else besides his sword. What it was
Eveleen could not see, but she fancied the man’s eyes looked past Sir
Harry and rested on her. An angry refusal snapped out, and Khair
Husain passed on with a deprecatory gesture. Young Hafiz Ullah was set
at liberty, as a compliment to Colonel Bayard, to whose care he had
been committed by his father on his deathbed, but the rest of the
Khans were handed over to Brian for safe keeping--the scene of which
was to be their own beautiful garden-palace near the Agency, easily
guarded, and remote from the chance of a rescue. With slow dragging
steps the fallen Princes returned to their palanquins, and with their
servants, were carried away under a strong guard, Captain Stewart
riding up to the city with an escort to take over the principal
gateway as the General’s representative. Sir Harry drew a long breath
as he and Colonel Bayard turned their horses away again.
“Well, this is the sort of thing makes a man feel he hasn’t lived in
vain! Fine showy things those swords--eh? I hadn’t the heart to
deprive the poor beggars of ’em, though they would have made a nice
heirloom to hand down in a private gentleman’s family. And now to make
things lively for our backward friend Kamal-ud-din!”
“General!”--Colonel Bayard’s voice was hoarse with emotion--“I have
said nothing, raised no protest--I vowed I would make no further
effort--but after all this---- Ain’t you yet content?”
“Content?” Sir Harry stared at him. “What is there to be content
about? After this next battle, perhaps----”
“Another battle! more bloodshed! Don’t those awful heaps satisfy you
which I passed in the moonlight last night? Are you determined to
destroy this unhappy nation if it fails to destroy you?”
“It has destroyed nineteen of my officers and two hundred and
fifty-six men of my small force already. Merciful Heaven! do you think
me a stone? Shall I ever forget that long row this morning of the
corpses of my noblest friends, grim with dust and blood, laid side by
side until the sand should shroud them from my sight? Are you accusing
me of taking pleasure in bloodshed, Colonel Bayard?”
“Nay, not that---- Yet what can I think when I see you passing from
one horror to another? Your bravery, your capacity, none can now
dispute--if any one was ever fool enough to doubt it. Would that your
sword had been drawn in a nobler cause! but you have chosen the
shortest way, and it ain’t for me to remonstrate further. But shed no
more blood, I entreat you; make your name as famous for mercy as it
will always be for conquest.”
“What is it you are trying to get me to do?” Sir Harry turned and
looked at him suspiciously.
“Kamal-ud-din--I know him well; he is young and easily moved. At
present he is undecided whether to provoke a battle or not, because he
believes you incensed against him. Let me go to him----”
“Certainly not. Too valuable a hostage.”
“Let me write, then. I will choose a messenger from the retainers of
his uncles, who will inform him of their submission, and urge him to
come in and surrender. With him in your hands, there is no leader left
about whom the remnants of the Khans’ armies may rally, and you attain
at once all the results of a battle without fighting one.”
“Be it so, then. Heaven knows the army is in no state to fight again
to-day, and I should be crippled in any movement by this train of
wounded.”