WHICH DESCRIBES A STRATEGIC RETREAT.
_From Mrs Fraser to Miss Amelia Turnor._
Culnah, _June ye_ 15_th._
I have amused myself not a little, my dear friend, during this last
few days, in picturing the manner in which my Amelia would receive the
astonishing news contained in my last letter, which I was so eager to
place in her hands that I writ it in scraps, as the time offered, at
Moidapore, and despatched it the night of last Saturday (the 11th), by
a _cossid_ that was carrying an epistle from Mr Watts to Colonel
Clive, and called at the hunting-lodge for any private letters the
gentlemen might wish to send. ’Tis true I have been inclined to repent
of this precipitancy, for since arriving at the army we have heard a
rumour that the fellow, being pursued by _decoyts_ or highway robbers,
lost in his flight some of the missives with which he had been
entrusted. Still, I can’t bring myself to believe that the epistle in
which I acquainted my dear girl of all the incidents (whether
alarming, affecting, or comical) of my marriage, and of the
misunderstanding that, but for the interposition of good Dr Dacre,
might have wrecked for ever my happiness with my dear Mr Fraser, could
be the one of all the rest to go astray. Should it prove to have been
thus ill-advised, I fear my Amelia must be the sufferer, for I could
not bring myself to write that letter again.
At Moidapore, which is a country-house situated about one _coss_, or
rather over two miles, to the south of Cossimbuzar, we spent in all
five days, a period during which I was apparently as much a prisoner
as when in Sinzaun’s house, but with how great a difference! Carried
into the place rolled up in a bundle of mattresses (believe me, my
dear, I could have imagined myself again in the Black Hole, such was
the heat and the want of air on my journey), I had allotted to me the
_Ginanah_, or women’s part of the house, with an agreeable small
garden on which it looked; and here I remained without my presence
being so much as suspected by any of the domestics, with the exception
of the gentlemen’s body-servants, who, being honest fellows, and
continually employed about the house, were admitted into the secret.
Of the anxious kindness shown me by Mr Fraser I need not speak, for
the generosity of his mind is abundantly testified by the history I
gave you of our first quarrel, if quarrel it may be called, which was
so productive in misery at the time, but yet has something droll in
it. The consideration of the other two gentlemen displayed itself in
the most engaging manner, as my Amelia will perceive when I tell her
that I had not to resent a single free remark from Mr Ranger, and that
Dr Dacre was so obliging as to translate for me on the spot all the
quotations from the ancient authors that he happened to employ in his
discourse. What can I say more? As long as our stay lasted, my spouse
and Mr Ranger occupied themselves during the morning and evening
principally in hunting, which was necessary to give colour to their
removal to the place; and your Sylvia found plenty to do in cutting
out and making up from the stout cotton cloth of the country a
riding-dress for herself, which Mr Watts had warned her she might need
at any moment; while Dr Dacre, pursuing his studies with the most
philosophical composure in the world, was so polite as to read aloud
to her occasionally certain extracts from the work he is preparing on
the relation of the Sanskerreet to the classical tongues, to cheer her
labours.
During this blessed period we were not left entirely without news from
the outer world, for Mr Watts despatched a messenger to us on some
pretext or other once a day. The first of his messages was that which
awoke in your foolish Sylvia’s bosom all the apprehension which her
Fraser misread so unfortunately. It acquainted us that Sinzaun had
accosted him that day in a very affable style at the Durbar, asking
his pardon for Moonloll’s attempted invasion of the night before, and
saying he was certain the female who had escaped was not at the
Agency, for he had found a clue to her presence in a different part of
the city, and expected to recover her immediately. To this Mr Watts
had added: “I can’t doubt but this complaisant address was designed to
throw me off my guard, to the end that Monsieur Sinzaun, who has
satisfied himself that Mrs Fraser was not of the party that rid to
Moidapore, may find opportunity to introduce his spies into this
house. His bribing some of the servants is merely a matter of time,
and when by this means he has discovered that the lady en’t here, he
will divine that we have succeeded in overreaching him, and will turn
his attention to Moidapore. When that happens, gentlemen, look to
yourselves.”
On the day after this alarming letter came a second to say that
Aume-beg, an officer of the Buckshy Meer Jaffier, with whom Mr Watts
has covenanted to turn traitor to the Nabob, was returned from
Calcutta, whither he had gone to convey the treaty between his master
and the British, bringing the news that the secret of the alliance had
got abroad, and was the common talk of the soldiers at that place and
Chandernagore. The wicked old Gentoo, Omy Chund, of whom my Amelia has
heard before, having played a leading part in obtaining the treaty,
had become alarmed that his advantage was not sufficiently regarded in
it, but his apprehensions were pacified (I fear, by what Mr Fraser
hints to me, in some not over honourable manner), and he was content
to do no more than watch over his interests by accompanying Colonel
Clive and his army when they marched against Muxadavad. Since this
might take place any day, Meer Jaffier had sent to warn Mr Watts to
make his escape, but the good gentleman was resolved to maintain his
position until the last extremity, and, if possible, until he had
permission from Colonel Clive to leave it. All this time the Nabob and
Meer Jaffier, shut up in their respective castles within the city,
were making preparations, the one for defence and t’other for attack,
and exchanging such bloodthirsty menaces as might well terrify those
who heard as well as those who received them.
Last Monday was the day on which our fears arrived at a climax, and
our fortunes at a crisis. As soon as the heat of the day was over, Mr
Ranger, who was gone to the stables to tell the grooms to have the
horses ready for going hunting that evening, found an old woman of one
of the gipsy tribes in the compound. On his tossing her the piece of
money for which she begged, the crone requested to see his hand, and
told him his fortune so accurately as regards the past, and so
flatteringly as regards the future, that he was most extravagantly
delighted, and carried the old creature to the house, where he
summoned Mr Fraser and Dr Dacre, who submitted their hands to her
inspection with an equally agreeable result. Mr Ranger’s kind concern
for my entertainment next caused him to suggest to Mr Fraser that he
should bring the old woman into the Ginanah, that she might tell my
fortune also. Always ready to consult my pleasure, and grown now
somewhat secure through our continued safety, Mr Fraser came to
propose the visit to me, suggesting that I should wrap myself in my
Moorish veil, so that the sorceress might not know me to be a
European. The notion of admitting this stranger did not commend itself
to me, but seeing my spouse so eager, and attributing my reluctance to
a foolish shyness springing from my long seclusion, I begged of him to
bring her in. I could not doubt her possession of the powers to which
she pretended when, after examining my hand very minutely, she
informed me that I had of late passed through many trials, hinting not
obscurely at their nature, and that I had been married only a few
weeks, perhaps even days. To test her further, Mr Fraser asked her
whether I had any enemies, to which she made answer that my safety was
menaced by a very great person, but that I might rest easy, for his
plots against me should not prosper. To this she added further
prophecies, such as awoke in Mr Fraser an extraordinary delight, and
he carried her out in great good humour. Returning to me, he remarked
on the woman’s having contrived to bite the coin he gave her, in order
to test its goodness, although she appeared to possess no teeth to
speak of. “I observed the marks,” said he.
“Sir,” I cried, a frightful conviction seizing me, “the woman was
Misery in a disguise, and with her teeth blackened.”
“What! the hag that betrayed my beloved girl to Sinzaun?” cried Mr
Fraser, catching up his sword, and ran out, calling to Mr Ranger to
accompany him. But although they searched high and low, and questioned
the servants closely, they could find no trace of the sorceress, and
returned disappointed, cursing their own credulity.
“How will my dearest life forgive me for bringing her into this new
peril?” said my spouse, with the kindest, most melancholy air
imaginable. “But at least the hag prophesied the downfall of her own
schemes,” he added, seeking to cheer me.
“’Twas but to throw us off our guard, I fear, sir. Relieved from dread
of Sinzaun, she looks that we shall grow careless. But, oh, dear sir,”
and I catched hold of Mr Fraser’s two hands, “if we are indeed exposed
to that wicked person’s attacks, let me alone be the sacrifice.
Believe me, ’twould add infinitely to my affliction to know that I had
endangered others.”
“I fear, Mrs Fraser,” says my spouse very solemnly, “you forget
sometimes that you’re married. How otherwise could you coldly propose
that I would resign my wife to that lawless villain? Or perhaps you
are good enough to intimate that you prefer him to me?”
“Oh, sir, sir!” I cried; and Mr Fraser embraced me with the most
obliging tenderness.
“My foolish girl knows now what I’ll think if I hear her say that
again,” he said, and went away to consult with Mr Ranger on plans of
defence. But as it chanced, their valour proved unnecessary; for their
council was interrupted with the commotion caused by the arrival of a
palanqueen, out of which stepped Mr Watts, very cheerful and sedate,
while among the servants attending on him was Mirza Shaw Buzbeg,
riding a very fine horse of his own. The palanqueen and bearers Mr
Watts sent back to Cossimbuzar, saying that he was going hunting with
the gentlemen, and would carry them thither with him for supper, which
(as he bade them remind the cooks) must be on the table without fail
at the hour he had named. Coming in then among us, and rubbing his
hands very complacently--
“Come,” he said, “the hour is arrived, gentlemen, and Surajah Dowlah’s
knell has begun to toll. Meer Jaffier sent to me this afternoon to
entreat that I would leave the city, since a rumour had reached the
Nabob that Colonel Clive was advancing from Calcutta as far as
Chandernagore with his troops. You’ll guess that I was not catched
unprepared, for I think ’twould be scarce kind in me to permit Surajah
Dowlah to add to his crimes by compassing all our deaths. Leaving the
city house in my palanqueen, I betook myself to Cossimbuzar, as I have
done pretty often of late on pretence of business, and ordered the
servants there to have supper ready against the time I should bring
you back with me, gentlemen; but I fear that supper will be cold
indeed before we return to eat it. Pack up your falbalas, madam; you
have prepared an equestrian habit as I recommended you, I hope? To
horse in half an hour, gentlemen! The beasts are in good condition, I
trust?”
“Sure, sir,” I heard Dr Dacre say, as I returned into my own
apartment, “you can’t intend to ride the whole distance to
Chandernagore? Have you forgot we have a female of our party? Mr
Fraser consulted me as to your intentions, and I assured him that you
was but proposing to ride as far as some point on the river where we
might obtain boats. You won’t contradict me, I hope?”
“Why, look ye here, doctor,” cried Mr Watts, “no man knows better than
I do that the length of the journey and the extreme heat of the season
will make this adventure of ours excessively fatiguing and not a
little dangerous, but our lives are at stake. One of my reasons for
lingering on in the city longer was that I was in hopes of hearing
from Colonel Clive that he desired our retreat, and had provided boats
to meet us on the way. But since he han’t chose to be so considerate,
we can only trust that the rumour which has alarmed the Nabob is true,
and that we shall find the army on the march to Muxadavad. The Colonel
knows our danger, for Aume-beg tells me that it has several times been
reported in Calcutta that I had been seen slain, and my head set on a
pole, and I don’t doubt but he’ll help us if he can. As for the lady,
if I know anything of her, she’ll share our hardships without whining
or peevishness, and prefer ’em to the alternative of remaining here.
And pray, gentlemen, do me the favour to get ready at once. I may be
pursued even now.”
The words were not out of Mr Watts’ lips when the other gentlemen
scattered each to his apartment, and Mr Fraser, lifting the
_antiporta_ of reeds through which I had heard all their conversation,
came to me.
“My incomparable girl must show the stuff she’s made of to-night,” he
said, with as great an air of cheerfulness as he could command. “We
will have a long hard ride, but I know she’ll do her best to support
it for her Fraser’s sake.”
“Indeed, dear sir, I’ll endeavour not to disappoint you,” I said, the
tears coming into my eyes at the kind and flattering style in which he
spoke. Truly, my dear, I can conceive nothing that would grieve me
more than to disappoint the dear gentleman in any particular, though I
fear I shall never attain to the high ideal he has so obligingly
formed of me. My Amelia would, I am convinced, discover a perpetual
fund of amusement in the mutual dread which Mr Fraser and I entertain
of losing each other’s good opinion. I must tell her that so many
years spent on shipboard have rendered my spouse an adept in what he
prefers to call _making things fast_. His apartment at the Agency made
me laugh, for everything that could by any means be packed up, put
away, rolled up or hung up, had been so treated, until the place
looked as bare as my hand. Observing my surprise, Mr Fraser told me
that he liked to have things shipshape; and when I asked him whether
he anticipated a flood, in which the whole house might sail gaily
away, he looked at me as though I had displayed a design to attack his
nation. It needs a woman, my dear, to diffuse that air of elegant
disorder without which the finest apartment has an uninhabited air. To
our sex alone does it belong to be easy without being untidy; for if
men dispose things neatly they become also stiff. But seeing that Mr
Fraser piques himself on his neatness, I allow him to do as he pleases
at present, and to devise all manner of expedients for stowing
everything away, until even the water-jar is furnished with a sort of
rack on the wall. And here at Moidapore, when I had put on my
riding-dress, he showed me a device of his by which my little bundle
of clothes (containing my only gown, Amelia) might serve me for a
cushion when I rode behind him, and was so pleased with his
contrivance that I could not find it in my heart to rebuke his
ingenuity by asking him what he thought the gown would look like when
I wore it next. En’t I a pattern wife, my dear?
“Alas, alas!” cried Mr Ranger, when I joined with the rest of the
party, “sure the shade of good Mr Addison must wander distressed
to-night. His fairest disciple has forsook him, and adopted the
equestrian habit he detested.”
This was said because I was forced to complete my riding-dress with a
laced hat and undress frock of Mr Fraser’s, suiting very well with my
skirt, which is of a dark blue colour, but giving me (I can’t deny)
something of the air of the young ladies rebuked by Mr Spectator for
aping men. Indeed, I think I should figure very passably in Hyde Park,
unless the mode has altered since I left England.
“Don’t tease the lady, sir,” says Mr Watts. “She has acted like a
woman of sense in dressing herself so as to attract as little
attention as possible to our party. She might pass for a man at a very
short distance.”
If this was said to comfort me it failed of its effect, but I said
nothing as we walked out through the garden to a spot remote from the
servants’ quarters, where the horses were waiting, each with its
groom, called a _syce_, who can keep pace with his beast for several
hours, even when the speed is very great. The Tartar, who had seen to
the security of all the straps and buckles, was already mounted, and
several dogkeepers, holding greyhounds in leashes, were present to
give our evasion the air of a simple hunting-party. Having mounted (Mr
Fraser had devised a sort of side-saddle for me, with the aid of a
stirrup fastened over a peg) we rode out gently to the southward for
some miles, feigning to be very eager in the search for antelopes or
game of any kind, but displaying the utmost care not to fatigue the
horses. Mr Ranger seemed to find this leisurely progress very
wearisome, for he began presently to rally Mr Fraser on his appearance
in the saddle, diverting himself with various odd comparisons
respecting sailors on horseback. This mockery I should have found very
annoying had I believed it to be well grounded, but Mr Fraser was
accustomed to riding in his early youth, and has never neglected the
accomplishment when on shore, so that he acquits himself with as much
elegance as any gentleman need exhibit, and was able to endure Mr
Ranger’s raillery with the greatest complaisance. The young gentleman
was so good-humoured as not to turn his attention to me, or I should
have been less happy than my spouse, not having mounted a horse for
over a year, but riding gently over level ground I found myself easy
enough. Having started on our ride when it wanted about an hour to
sunset, we had gone over six miles before darkness began to come on,
which happens very suddenly in these countries, and Mr Watts drew rein
at the summit of a slight eminence.
“See here,” he said to the dogkeepers, “we don’t seem to discover any
game, so ’tis scarce worth while to keep the dogs out longer. Take ’em
back to Moidapore at once. The gentlemen and I will ride quietly round
by Cossimbuzar, and sup there before returning, and we’ll hope for
better luck another evening.”
The dogkeepers obeying without any reluctance (for the Indians have a
great fear of the darkness, both on account of wild beasts and of evil
spirits), Mr Watts called upon us to follow him, and rid smartly down
the further side of the rise.
“A moment back,” he said, “before it was grown so dark, I catched
sight of two men coming from the south, and if they en’t wandering
_juggies_[20.01] they’re _cossids_.”
We came upon the men before long, for it seemed that they had
perceived our figures against the sky upon the hill-top, and directed
their steps towards us. One of them was known to Mr Watts, who cried
out to him to say where he had left Colonel Clive, to which he replied
that ’twas at Chandernagore, but that he was only halting there for
the night on his march to Muxadavad. This news served to raise all our
spirits, which the _cossid_ observing, he increased the effect by
delivering to Mr Watts a letter which he had carried concealed in the
folds of his turbant (for so scanty is the clothing of these swift
messengers that they have no other place in which to deposit the
missives with which they are charged), and which caused our leader
infinite delight.
“Good!” he cried. “Here’s the Colonel’s letter desiring me to quit
Muxadavad and join him with all possible speed. He will send forward
boats with a military escort to the point where the Jelingeer[20.02]
River meets this from Cossimbuzar, which will cut a fine slice off our
journey, and he looks to have reached Culnah before we meet him.”
Bidding the _cossids_ continue their journey to the factory and
refresh themselves there, Mr Watts saw them out of sight and then
turned to us.
“Now, my good friends, our real work is to begin. Madam, allow me to
assist you to dismount. Mr Fraser will put his saddle on your horse,
and you’ll find it best to ride behind him. Mirza Shaw will lead
t’other nag, and you can change to it again half-way. Are your pistols
charged, gentlemen, and your swords loose in the scabbards? We may
have to fight our way to-night--indeed it’s scarce probable we shall
escape without a tussle with the blackfellows--and in such a case all
will hang on our being able to ride ’em down before they see how few
we are.”
Almost as soon as Mr Watts had finished speaking, the saddles had been
changed and Mr Fraser was mounted again, when Mr Ranger helped me to
spring up behind him, and we started afresh, moving cautiously at
first, but soon quitting the road and striking to the left. Here the
country for a prodigious distance is uninhabited, and covered with
thickets of an extraordinary denseness, along the skirt of which we
rode at the utmost speed of which our beasts were capable, still
maintaining a southerly direction. My dear, I have no inordinate
desire, I hope, to establish myself as a heroine, nor to indulge in
any extravagant descriptions of that night’s sufferings, but since I
contrived at the moment to refrain from any expression of the miseries
I endured, in order not to incommode my kind protectors further, I
may, perhaps, be permitted to confide them to the faithful bosom of my
Amelia. Oh, my dear girl, the heat, the dust, the rough paces of the
horse when we passed over a tract of hard parched ground, the thirst,
the constant alarms, and worst of all, the sounds! Do you know what it
is to _hear_ the heat, Amelia? Don’t think my intellects are
disordered when I tell you that I heard it come rolling up like huge
waves. I imagined it to be thunder until the gentlemen had assured me
positively there was none. Then the sounds of the horses’ feet
multiplied themselves into the tramp of an immense army marching upon
us, or there was a continual roar, such as might be made by a whole
mighty river pouring over a precipice, and from the thickets we
skirted came shrieks and groans and cries, which I was told were due
to night-birds and wild animals, but which sounded at once more
alarming and more mysterious from the uncertainty with which they
reached the ear. These terrors did not, of course, attain their
greatest height immediately. During the first part of the journey Mr
Watts astonished us all by the gay good-humour with which he
encountered the situation. Whenever we slackened speed for a rise in
the ground, he would break into such agreeable and rallying discourse
as made us forget our discomforts. The skill and temper with which he
had braved the Nabob’s threatenings and disarmed his suspicions, while
at the same time plotting with his courtiers for his overthrow, formed
his chief theme, as though, like the great Roman commander, he would
have banished our fears by reminding us that we were in company with
himself and his fortunes. Again, as though the sudden removal of the
heavy anxieties under which he had laboured so long had left him as
careless as a boy, he would set to rallying one of the other
gentlemen, as when we stopped once that Mr Fraser and I might transfer
ourselves to the fresh horse, and I sat panting on the ground while
the saddles were changed.
“Come, doctor,” he cried, in answer to a Greek quotation from Dr
Dacre, “confess that you’re cherishing a grudge against me at this
moment for dragging you away from your books. I’m persuaded that in
your heart of hearts you’d prefer to die with your dear classical
authors rather than be saved without ’em. The blackfellows will make a
fine bonfire of them, I’ll warrant you.”
“Indeed, sir,” said the doctor, with something of a guilty air, “I
must confess I would not trust the Indians with any of my treasures.”
“Would not, sir? Pray what does that mean? I have observed your horse
flagging very painfully--sure your saddle-bags are prodigious hard,
and your pockets. Oh, doctor, doctor! can it be that you have loaded
the poor dumb beast with the weight of your library--and you a _burra
Padra_?”
“Only the most precious volumes, sir, I’ll assure you.”
“The cruelty’s the same. Come, doctor, pitch ’em all out. Lighten the
ship, as Mr Fraser would say. Will you exhibit less strength of mind
than his lady, who was content to bring the smallest possible package
with her?”
“Ah, sir, Mrs Fraser had no more to bring,” said the poor divine with
a deprecating air, which made Mr Watts laugh heartily. But having
alarmed Dr Dacre sufficiently, he was good-natured enough to relieve
him of the weight of one or two of the books, and Mr Ranger doing the
same, the doctor’s horse displayed a good deal more vivacity than
before. On starting on our journey again, Mr Watts changed our course,
remarking that we must have rode over twenty miles since parting with
the _cossids_, so that there were thirty miles at least between us and
Muxadavad, and ’twas now safe to turn our steps westward, and seek to
come upon the river. Horses and riders were now alike fatigued, and
even Mr Watts appeared to lose his cheerfulness as we rode on through
the night, with the poor _syces_ still keeping close to the heels of
their beasts. Occasionally there was an alarm that a village might be
near, when the Tartar, who was considered to possess the most
perspicuous eye of the party, would ride forward alone and return to
report his discoveries, but we succeeded in avoiding almost entirely
the habitations of man, although, to speak truth, I could almost have
welcomed the being taken prisoner, if it had signified that I was at
liberty to leave the horse and throw myself on the ground. Longing
only to be still and to slumber, it caused me the extremest agony to
be borne along in this unceasing motion, afraid to indulge the
drowsiness that tormented me lest I should lose hold of Mr Fraser’s
belt and find myself dashed to the ground. My dear Mr Fraser lost no
opportunity of endeavouring to raise my spirits, praising my endurance
in the kindest terms (oh, had he but known that I could barely keep
myself from crying out to him for mercy’s sake to stop the horse and
suffer me to rest!), and cheering me constantly with anticipations of
arriving shortly at the boats, but I fear he met with but slight
response. I felt as though all the strength I possessed was needed for
maintaining my hold, and yet I must have been able to speak, for on a
sudden I found Mr Fraser addressing me with great concern.
“Why, what’s the matter, sir?” I asked him, as he checked the horse.
“You cried out that you was forced to let go of your hold, my dearest
life.”
“I didn’t know it, sir,” I said, and laughed, and my voice had so
droll a sound that I laughed again, “but indeed I can’t wonder.”
“Don’t get light-headed, child,” said my spouse, sharply. “Hold the
bridle for me a moment,” and when I reached forward and obeyed him, he
unbuckled his sword-belt, and slipping it off, fastened it round
himself and me both, so that I could not fall even though I loosed my
hold. This occupied but an instant, but Mr Ranger came riding back to
see what had detained us, and was very merry with Mr Fraser on his
riding with his sword out, as though at a review. After this I must
believe that I fell asleep in spite of the awkwardness of my position,
for when the horse stopped suddenly I should have fallen off had it
not been for the belt. As it was, I slipped helplessly from the
beast’s back when Mr Fraser unfastened the strap, and should have fell
to the ground if Mr Watts had not catched me.
“Come, madam, keep your heart up,” says the good gentleman. “We have
made huge progress, and met with the most marvellous good luck
throughout.”
“How, sir?” I asked him.
“Why, we have encountered no enemy nor wild beast, there’s light
enough to see our way, and the rains en’t begun, as they might well
be, since last year they commenced so late. Figure to yourself what
our flight would have been with rain falling, and the entire country a
swamp!”
“Come, my dear, you must rest while we halt here,” says Mr Fraser,
while I endeavoured with my confused brain to picture the situation
suggested by Mr Watts, and I resigned the attempt thankfully, lying
down on the cloak my husband had spread for me on the ground, and
suffering him to cover me with another. I must have fallen asleep
immediately, for I dreamed that Mr Fraser came and looked at me very
earnestly, but without speaking, and then went away, and waking, I
found that he was gone. In the obscurity of the grove in which we
were, I could discern the figures of Mr Watts and Dr Dacre, wrapped in
their cloaks and stretched upon the ground; at a little distance were
the _syces_, crouched upon their heels close to the horses, and Mirza
Shaw, with his scymitar drawn, stood guarding his master with the most
extreme vigilance, but my spouse and Mr Ranger were not to be seen.
“Where’s Mr Fraser?” I cried out to the Tartar, sitting up in my
place, but it was Dr Dacre that answered me.
“Why, madam, your spouse believed you asleep. He’s but this moment
gone forward with Mr Ranger to ascertain our position. There was some
talk of a force of the Nabob’s horse encamped in the village ahead of
us, and blocking our way to the river, and Mirza Shaw has wounded his
foot with a thorn----”
“But you’ve sent him into the midst of the enemy? Sure they’ll murder
him!” I cried, but Mr Watts, waking, silenced me roughly.
“Be quiet, madam, and pray let other people rest if you won’t do it
yourself. Mr Fraser’s in no such terrible danger. If he’s the wise man
I fancy him, the enemy will have no chance so much as to catch sight
of him.”
Mr Watts fell asleep again at once, but I could not follow his
example. The desire for sleep, which had tormented me so long, seemed
to have left me, and a hundred horrid visions took its place. I saw Mr
Fraser discovered, tracked, pursued, seized, tortured, slain, in all
the circumstances that my apprehensive mind could suggest, and even
the most ordinary sound that reached me was the signal to start a
fresh train of horrors. I was a prey to the most cruel, the most
poignant anxiety, and at the same moment to the liveliest remorse, and
this because I had not awaked when Mr Fraser came and regarded me,
thus losing what I persuaded myself was his last farewell. The
shocking selfishness, which had caused me a year ago to destroy my
dear Captain Colquhoun in obtaining for me the water that cost him his
life, I saw repeated now in the insensibility I had shown to the
presence of the person to whom I owe everything, and my heart was
almost broken with the thought of such unparalleled ingratitude.
Trembling all over with apprehension, I sat leaning against a tree,
listening for a distant shot or shout that might confirm my worst
fears. Presently Mirza Shaw, catching sight of me, limped across the
glade to recommend me in a low voice to lie down.
“Is it near morning yet?” I asked him.
“Why, no, Beebee; only a little past midnight.”
“But sure we must have been riding a dozen hours at least.”
“Less than six, Beebee.”
“Why, how long is it then since Mr Fraser started?”
“Twenty minutes, Beebee.”
“But that’s not possible. I have been listening for him for hours.”
“Not so, Beebee. He has scarce had time to reach the village yet, much
less to return to us. Beebee Fraser need not fear for him.”
This was excessively consoling, questionless, but it failed to calm my
fears, and I sat and shuddered until there was a rustling of the
bushes, and the two missing gentlemen crept back safe into our midst.
Mr Watts, awake at once, questioned them eagerly, and they told him
they had reached the village, which is named Augadeep, and found the
Nabob’s force encamped on both sides of the road, but all fast asleep
and without a single sentinel, after the manner of the Indians in war,
so that they believed it possible to ride straight through them
undiscovered, and reach the river on the further side.
“And so we will!” cried Mr Watts. “Wake up, doctor. The Retreat of the
Ten Thousand will be naught to ours. Straight through the enemy’s
camp!”
The _syces_ began saddling the horses again immediately, Dr Dacre
arose with a good deal of sadness, and unwound himself from his cloak,
Mirza Shaw put up his sword and led up Mr Watts’ beast for him to
mount, and Mr Fraser approached softly the spot where I was, intending
to awake me gently.
“What, my dear, awake? and I recommended you to rest!” he cried.
“Excellent, sir!” cried Mr Watts. “You might have been married ten
years, Mr Fraser.”
“Save that then he would scarce have looked for his lady to obey him,
sir,” says Mr Ranger; but I paid no heed to their raillery.
“Oh, dear sir,” I cried, throwing myself into Mr Fraser’s arms, “how
could I sleep when I imagined each instant that you was fallen into
the enemy’s hands?” and the remembrance of my frightful imaginations
overpowering me, I burst into a passion of tears and sobs, which I
endeavoured in vain to check.
“My dearest creature,” said Mr Fraser at last, “these transports will
endanger all our lives if you don’t moderate ’em. Come, that’s my
brave girl! But you en’t fit to ride any further to-night.”
“Pray, Mr Fraser, do you purpose settling down for life in this patch
of _jungul_?” cried Mr Watts, who was waiting impatiently. “No man can
sympathise more heartily with your lady than I do, but delay will mean
her destruction as well as ours.”
Mr Fraser made no further protestation, but when Mr Ranger approached
to assist me to mount, he gave him a sign, and together they lifted me
to the saddle before my husband, so that he could hold me with his
left arm, and still have his right at liberty. Mr Watts murmured a
little, representing that in the event of a fight Mr Fraser would find
himself sorely encumbered, but he was good-humoured enough, and we
rode out of the wood. Before we had gone very far, Mr Ranger declared
that we were approaching Augadeep, and the speed of the horses was
checked. The road was happily deep in dust, so that there was no sound
made, and we approached the village in dead silence, the ashes of
expiring watch-fires alone showing where the Nabob’s troops were
encamped. And now I am about to record a confession that will force my
Amelia to despise me, but not more heartily than I despise myself. As
we passed between the watch-fires to right and to left, there came
upon me the most horrid temptation imaginable to shriek aloud. I tried
to reason with myself, in vain; I felt that I must scream, although I
knew that all our lives would be the forfeit. Sure it was a heavenly
inspiration that saved me, for I seized my handkerchief and stuffed it
into my mouth with all my strength. “At least there’ll be no sound
now, even if I should scream,” I said to myself, and then I must have
swooned, for I knew no more until I found myself laid flat on a pile
of cloaks in a small boat, with Mr Fraser endeavouring to force some
spirit between my teeth. I wondered in a foolish sort of style whether
he would succeed in getting it down, but never thought of assisting
him in any way, even by opening my mouth, until he ceased his efforts
and turned with a hopeless air to Mr Watts, who, with a pistol in one
hand and t’other on his sword, was watching the black men that were
rowing.
“’Tis too late, sir!” said Mr Fraser, heavily.
“What’s too late, sir?” I asked him, finding my tongue all of a
sudden, and Mr Watts broke into a loud laugh, which he sought
anxiously to check.
“Why, the dram, madam. Here has your spouse been tearing his hair and
vowing you was dead, and he your murderer. Pray why did you try to
throttle yourself? That had more the air of suicide.”
“I--I was afraid of crying out, sir. But where are we, and where are
all the rest?”
“Why, madam, we are rowing down the Cossimbuzar river, as fast as
these rascally _dandies_ will take us. The Padra and Mr Ranger are in
another boat, but since we could find no more than two, and there was
no room for the horses, Mirza Shaw refused to abandon his nag, and
preferring the beast to his master, remained behind with the _syces_,
undertaking to save the whole caravan. Pray, Mr Fraser, keep an eye on
that _mangee_ there. I doubt he’s purposing to run us aground.”
“Now, my dearest life, I must have you try to sleep,” said my kind
spouse, making at the same time a threatening motion towards the
helmsman, as Mr Watts desired. “My good girl won’t be alarmed, knowing
her Fraser is close at hand?”
“Why, no, dear sir,” said I, and composed myself to sleep upon the
cloaks, as though this strange situation were the most natural thing
in the world. It seemed I had slept but a moment, when I was awaked
with a great sound of cheering and huzzaing, and saw that we were
arrived at a point where two rivers met, and off which there were
lying several large boats. On board of these boats was a number of
Europeans (whom I judged to be soldiers by the clothes they had
hastily catched up), and these were all testifying their delight in
seeing us by excessive shouts of joy. It needed no telling that we had
met with the guard sent by Colonel Clive to greet us and bring us to
the army, and there was little delay in rewarding the Indian boatmen
who had done us such good service against their wills, and sending
them about their business, while we were taken on board the Colonel’s
boats. My Amelia will set me down as a sad lazy creature, but I’ll
confess to her honestly that no sooner had I laid myself down in a
cabin than I fell asleep again, and slept--how long does she
imagine?--why, my dear, for twelve hours! Your idle girl never woke
once until the boats reached Culnah at three o’clock in the afternoon,
and I can quite believe she would have slumbered again after that but
for the agitating news that reached her. Mr Watts has since rallied me
more than once upon this feat, and says there’s not a European in
India but would gladly purchase the secret of sleeping so well in the
hot weather, though I doubt they would scarce choose to earn their
slumber by riding from Moidapore to Augadeep. But what, you’ll ask,
was the agitating news that I mentioned? Why, my dear, while I was
eating some breakfast at four in the afternoon on board the boat, in
comes Mr Fraser, who had gone on shore with Mr Watts to pay his
respects to Colonel Clive, with an air of huge triumph.
“The Colonel made particular enquiry how you did, my dearest life, and
desired his compliments to you. He also requested the honour of your
company at his table to supper this evening if you feel sufficiently
restored.”
“Oh, dear sir--sup with Colonel Clive! But I have no gown.”
“Why, madam, where’s that thin white thing you wore at Moidapore?”
“That muslin? ’Tis a simple rag, sir, nothing more, and all in the
most frightful creases.”
“’Twill but set off my lovely girl’s face all the better. Come, dear
madam, you wouldn’t have me disoblige the Colonel? He showed me
extraordinary kindness before I set out on my quest for my lost
mistress, and I would wish him to see her now she’s found.”
“Oh, if you desire it particularly, dear sir----” Did you ever know a
young woman more sweetly obliging than your Sylvia, Amelia? How
otherwise could she have consented to appear at the table of the first
general of the age in a horrid limp muslin gown without a hoop, made
by her own hands, and a cap hastily fashioned (yes, my dear, I’ll own
it) out of one of her spouse’s pocket-handkerchiefs? But there was no
other ladies present, so that at least no comparisons could be drawn
to her disadvantage, and the gentlemen were all in undress, as was,
indeed, only proper at an entertainment held in a captured town in the
middle of a campaign. Distinguished with the most flattering
civilities by Colonel Clive, who came himself to the gate of his
quarters to hand her out of her palanqueen, and set her at his right
hand during the meal, won’t you give your girl some credit, Amelia,
that her head was not turned? But I must not leave my dear friend in
ignorance of one fact that should surely have prevented the lightest
mind from being uplifted by the elegant kindness of the Colonel. Among
the officers and others that were invited, and whom Colonel Clive
presented to me, were Mr le Beaume, now a captain in the Company’s
army, and Mr Fisherton, who is advanced to be the Colonel’s secretary.
When you remember, Amelia, the scenes in which I last beheld these two
gentlemen, Captain le Beaume carried wounded into Fort William after
the batteries had been abandoned, and Mr Fisherton in that place of
horror, the Black Hole itself, will you wonder that they both
approached me without a word, and that their feelings came near to
overcome them when they touched my hand? Those who stood round were
sensibly affected, and I needed but a little encouragement to give way
to the melancholy recollections that thronged upon me. This the
Colonel had not observed, for he was searching among those present for
one whom he did not appear to find.
“Where’s Captain Grant?” he said at last. “I hoped to present all your
old friends to you, madam, and you must have been well acquainted with
him.”
“Here, sir, at the lady’s service,” said a gentleman wearing the dress
of Adlercron’s Regiment.
“No, not you, Major,” says the Colonel. “’Twas Captain Alexander Grant
of the Bengall Service I was seeking, an old acquaintance of Mrs
Fraser’s.”
“The Captain sent his most humble apologies, sir, but he’s indisposed
this evening,” says Mr Fisherton, and his eyes chanced to meet mine.
You know in what posture I saw Captain Grant last, Amelia. Perhaps it
en’t to be wondered at that he should shrink from meeting the woman
whom, in his eagerness for his own safety, he had refused to turn back
to save. Something of this I think Colonel Clive must have read in our
faces, for he muttered angrily to himself as though he had remembered
something suddenly, and brought forward another gentleman, whom I
recollect seeing once or twice at Calcutta, although he belonged to
the Cossimbuzar factory.
“Mr Hastings, madam,” said the Colonel. “Like Mr Fraser he’s a
new-married man,[20.03] but unhappily he han’t had the foresight to
bring his lady with him on this campaign, when Mrs Fraser and she
might have exchanged confidences and allayed each other’s fears.”
Mr Hastings replying very genteelly that he hoped before long to have
the honour of making his wife acquainted with Mrs Fraser, we went to
supper, I being placed, as I said, on Mr Clive’s right, with Dr Dacre
on t’other side. The Colonel conversed continually with me in the most
agreeable manner, asking me whether I had seen much of the army yet,
and what I thought of his _loll pultun_?[20.04] This is a regiment of
Seapoy soldiers which he has clothed and drilled like Europeans, thus
giving them a much more martial air than our old _buxerries_, who were
dressed after the Indian fashion in the long breeches called
_panjammers_,[20.05] a _cabay_ or vest, and a turbant. I told him
that I had observed a number of these men as I passed through the
place on my way to his quarters, and been much pleased with their air
of neatness and discipline, and then, his words recalling to me that
old mystery of Misery’s and the other servants respecting the _loll
addama_, I ventured to inform him with what awe and submissiveness the
Indians were watching his progress, counting it to be of little use
opposing him.
“I hope Mrs Fraser is so obliging as to share this persuasion of
theirs?” said he.
“Why, yes, sir. How could I look to see a cause so good as ours
permitted to suffer defeat at the hands of such a wretch as the
Nabob?”
“Pray, madam, is it the case in your experience that Providence always
awards the victory to the most deserving side?”
“Alas, sir, no! But I can’t bring myself to believe that so great a
commander as Colonel Clive would have been brought to Bengall merely
to add another trophy to the blood-stained laurels of Surajah Dowlah.”
“I thank you, madam, for the thought, which comes in pat enough with
one that has occurred to me before. There was a young fellow of my
acquaintance once that was sunk to the lowest depths of melancholy. He
was poor and proud and in debt, and had not a friend that he could
call his own, for besides being of a sad unsociable temper, there was
a petulant roughness about him that alienated his acquaintances and
outraged his superiors. The severities of this climate, added to his
misfortunes, so affected the lad that he resolved to put an end to his
existence. There was a loaded pistol at hand, and he placed the muzzle
to his head, and pulled the trigger. The piece missed fire, but he was
not to be put off. After examining the condition of the charge, he
pulled the trigger a second time. Again it missed, and the youth,
wondering at this unaccountable failure, determined that he must be
intended for some great work, and laid aside the thought of
self-destruction. I was that young fellow, madam, and it has seemed to
me more than once that the liberation of Bengall may be the task I was
destined for.”
“Oh, sir, what cause has Britain to thank Heaven that your rash
resolve was frustrated!” I cried. “Sure you can’t now entertain a
doubt of your ultimate success, for which all you have yet achieved is
but a preparation?”
“Do you know what are the odds against us, madam? Do you know that
this army which is called mine is held together only by the memory of
my past successes? One disaster and my officers will recollect that
their general was bred a clerk, and failed as a writer, and the
Tellinghies will forsake the standard of the man whose luck is gone.
For myself, madam, I may say without boasting that I have sufficient
courage and patience to retrieve a disaster, if I may but retain the
confidence of my friends. But to find myself forsaken by those on
whose fidelity I had relied, to meet contempt where I had once
inspired respect, and distrust where I looked for loyal confidence,
that would be intolerable to me. To renew acquaintance with the
miseries of my early Madrass days after having tasted of success and
public favour, this I could not support--and the pistol is at hand now
as then.”
“Oh pray, dear sir, don’t tempt Heaven a second time to alter its
designs.”
“Why, madam, have I not told you that so long as I am sure of my
friends I can go on boldly? and I thank Heaven that’s the case at
present. But how solemn and serious is this discourse for so joyful an
occasion! Sure it’s very unkind in Mrs Fraser to tempt me into such
melancholy recollections and confessions.”
“May I venture to ask a favour of you, sir?” I saw Mr Clive desired to
change the subject.
“Any favour Mrs Fraser asks is already granted. But perhaps I can
guess what it is. You would have leave, madam, for your spouse to quit
the army when we advance from hence, and attend you at once to
Calcutta--en’t that it?”
“Why, no, sir, I was about to entreat you to find some situation for
Mr Fraser in which he may contrive to take part in the battle you
expect.”
“What, madam! tired of him already?” cried the Colonel; but seeing me
covered with confusion and my eyes filled with tears at this unkind
remark, he testified extreme penitence, and begged me to explain my
desire more fully.
“Indeed, sir, I can’t help being sensible that Mr Fraser lost his
share in the taking of Chandernagore by his concern for my safety,
which detained him at Muxadavad, and I would not be the cause of
depriving him of this also.”
“Why, madam, I thought there was but one woman in the world, and she
my own wife, that would extend any sympathy to the concern a man has
in his calling, but now I see there’s another. I’ll promise you to
find a post for your spouse, if I have to make him Lord High Admiral
of my fleet of rowboats.”
“But, sir, you’ve only heard half my request. You’ll permit me to
accompany him?”
“Oho, madam, is that it? A battlefield’s no place for women.”
“Oh pray, dear sir, don’t send me away from him. Picture the miserable
apprehensions I should be under for his safety. Indeed I’ll give no
trouble.”
“Will you be contented to remain with the sick and the baggage when
the army marches out to fight, madam? Otherwise I’ll have none of
you.”
“Oh yes, sir, provided you won’t leave me too far behind.”
“Madam, I’m not to be conditioned with by non-combatants. If I see too
much of you, I’ll send you down the river again under a guard. Our
good Mr Watts is minded to accompany the army[20.06] and see the
coping-stone set on his labours for the liberation of Bengall, and
you’ll be under his orders. Mr Fraser, I need volunteers for the
artillery, sir, since I was forced to leave Lieutenant Hay and near
all his seamen to garrison Chandernagore. What do you say to giving us
the advantage of your sea-experience? Your lady tells me she won’t let
you out of her sight, but I hope we may be able to oblige her without
losing your services.”
“Indeed, sir, I’ll be only too much honoured in being permitted to
place myself at Colonel Clive’s disposal.” Mr Fraser’s face was so
full of delight, Amelia, that I felt rewarded for my sacrifice. After
all, one must do one’s best to oblige a man that’s so ready to oblige
you, and at least I shan’t be parted from him.
This letter is frightfully long, Amelia. I wrote a good piece of it at
Culnah, where the army remained until the 16th, and went on with it at
Pultee, where we halted that night and part of the next day, while
Major Coote with a portion of the army went forward to receive the
surrender of the fortress of Cutwah, which had been promised by the
governor of the place, although he thought it expedient to make some
slight show of resistance. After a little firing the garrison
retreated, leaving Cutwah, with a vast quantity of grain and
considerable military stores, to us, and none too soon, for yesterday
the rains began, and the army, who had spent the night in their tents,
were forced to seek refuge in the houses of the town. I am finishing
my letter in a commodious apartment of the fortress, overlooking the
river Agey,[20.07] while all around preparations are making for the
next advance. On the day of our reaching Culnah, Mr Watts despatched a
messenger to our ally Meer Jaffier informing him of his safety and of
the approach of the army, while almost at the same moment there
arrived from this nobleman an Armenian, called Cojah Petroos by the
Europeans and by the Moors Aga Bedross, to entreat Colonel Clive to
hasten his advance. (I must not omit to say that Mr Watts’ servant,
Mirza Shaw, arrived safe on the 15th, with the _syces_ and all the
horses, which, having contrived to find another boat, they had swum
across the river, holding them with the bridles lengthened.) From
Muxadavad the Colonel hears that on learning of Mr Watts’ evasion the
Nabob exhibited the most abject terror, and breaking off the attack he
was about to make on Meer Jaffier’s castle, humbled himself so far as
to seek a reconciliation with him, and received his oath of
allegiance, which has caused some apprehension here. Elated with this
triumph, Surajah Dowlah has wrote in terms of defiance to the Colonel,
and though hindered by a mutiny of his troops, which was only appeased
by the distributing among them a vast sum of money, is about taking up
his ancient position at Placis,[20.08] a spot where he has a
hunting-lodge, some fifteen miles from here. He has summoned Mons. Law
and the other fugitive French to join him from Bogglypore, and Sinzaun
and the rest of his countrymen that are with him already have shown
the first taste of their quality by plundering and burning the
Cossimbuzar factory in their rage at Mr Watts’ escape. I write on June
the 20th. What happened a year ago this day I need not remind my
Amelia, but sure it’s strange enough that the avenging of Calcutta
should arrive at a time so closely joined with its fall.