It was early in December, 1792, that Dick Holland joined his regiment,
which was stationed at Madras. There were but five other officers, and
Dick found, to his satisfaction, that the junior of them had had four
years' service. Consequently, he did not step over any one's head,
owing to his commission being dated nearly three years previously. As
there were, in the garrison, many officers who had served on the
general staff in the last war, Dick soon found some of his former
acquaintances, and the story of his long search for his father, and
its successful termination, soon spread, and gained for him a place in
civil as well as military society.
The next year passed peacefully, and was an unusually quiet time in
India. That Tippoo intended to renew the war, as soon as he was able,
was well known to the government, and one of its chief objects of
solicitude was the endeavour to counteract the secret negotiations
that were constantly going on between him, the Nizam, and the
Mahrattis.
Tippoo was known to have sent confidential messengers to all the great
princes of India--even to the ruler of Afghanistan--inviting them to
join the confederacy of the Mahrattis, the Nizam, and himself, to
drive the English out of India altogether. Still greater cause for
uneasiness was the alliance that Tippoo had endeavoured to make with
the French, who, as he had learned, had gained great successes in
Europe; and, believing from their account that their country was much
stronger than England, he had sent envoys to the Mauritius, to propose
an offensive and defensive alliance against England. The envoys had
been politely received, and some of them had proceeded to France,
where Tippoo's proposal had been accepted. They committed France,
indeed, to nothing, as she was already at war with England; but the
French were extremely glad to embrace the proposal of Tippoo, as they
overrated his power, and believed that he would prove a formidable
opponent to the English, and would necessitate the employment of
additional troops and ships there, and so weaken England's power at
home. To confirm the alliance, some sixty or seventy Frenchmen, mostly
adventurers, were sent from the Mauritius as civil and military
officers.
Tippoo's council had been strongly opposed to this step on his part.
They had pointed out to him that their alliance, with a power at war
with the English, would render war between the English and him
inevitable; and that France was not in a position to aid them in any
way. The only benefit, indeed, that he could gain, was the possibility
that the fourteen thousand French troops, in the service of the Nizam,
might revolt and come over to him; but even this was doubtful, as
these were not troops belonging to the French government, but an
independent body, raised and officered by adventurers, who might not
be willing to imperil their own position, and interests, by embarking
on a hazardous war at the orders of a far-distant government.
These events happened soon after Dick's return, but nothing was
generally known of what was passing, although reports of Tippoo's
proceedings had reached the government of India. The party of
Frenchmen arrived at Seringapatam and were, at first, well received by
Tippoo. But they had soon disgusted him by their assumption of
dictatorial powers; while they, on their part, were disappointed at
not receiving the emoluments and salaries they had expected. Most of
them very speedily left his service. Some of the military men were
employed at Bangalore, and other towns, in drilling the troops, and a
few remained at Seringapatam, neglected by Tippoo, whose eyes were now
open to the character of these adventurers. But this in no way shook
his belief that he would obtain great aid from France, as he had
received letters from official personages there, encouraging him to
combine with other native powers, to drive the English out of India,
and promising large aid in troops and ships.
When the Earl of Mornington--afterwards the Marquis of
Wellesley--arrived at Calcutta as Governor General of India, in May
1798, the situation had become so critical that, although war had not
been absolutely declared on either side, Tippoo's open alliance with
the French rendered it certain that hostilities must commence ere
long; and Lord Mornington lost no time in proceeding to make
preparations for war. As Lord Cornwallis had done, he found the
greatest difficulty in inducing the supine government of Madras to
take any steps. They protested that, were they to make any show of
activity, Tippoo would descend the ghauts, and at once ravage the
whole country; and they declared that they had no force whatever that
could withstand him. They continued in their cowardly inactivity until
the governor general was forced to override their authority
altogether, and take the matter into his own hands.
The first step was to curb the Nizam's power, for everything pointed
to the probability that he intended to join Mysore, being inclined so
to do by Tippoo's promises, and by the influence of the officers of
the strong body of French troops in his service. Negotiations were
therefore opened by Lord Mornington, who offered to guarantee the
Nizam's dominions if he would join the English against Tippoo, and
promised that after the war he should obtain a large share of the
territory taken from Mysore.
The Nizam's position was a difficult one. On one side of him lay the
dominions of his warlike and powerful neighbour, Tippoo. On the other
he was exposed to the incursions of the Mahrattis, whose rising power
was a constant threat to his safety. He had, moreover, to cope with a
serious rebellion by his son, Ali Jah.
He was willing enough to obtain the guarantee of the English against
aggressions by the Mahrattis, but he hesitated in complying with the
preliminary demand that he should dispense with the French. The
fighting powers of this body rendered them valuable auxiliaries, but
he secretly feared them, and resented their pretensions; which pointed
to the fact that, ere long, instead of being his servants, they might
become his masters. When, therefore, the British government offered
him a subsidiary force of six battalions, and to guarantee him against
any further aggression by the Mahrattis, he accepted the proposal; but
in a half-hearted way, that showed he could not be relied upon for any
efficient assistance in disarming his French auxiliaries.
No time was lost, by the government, in marching the promised force to
Hyderabad. The French, 14,000 strong, refused to disband, and were
joined by the Nizam's household force, which was in the French
interest. The Nizam, terrified at the prospect of a contest, the
success of which was doubtful, abandoned the capital and took refuge
in a fortress, there to await the issue of events; but positively
refused to issue orders to the French to disband. Two of the English
battalions, which were on the other side of the river to that on which
the French were encamped, opened a destructive fire upon them, and
with red-hot shot set fire to their magazines and storehouses, while
the other four battalions moved into position to make a direct attack.
The Nizam now saw that he had no alternative but to declare openly for
the French, or to dismiss them. He preferred the latter alternative.
Peron, who commanded the French, saw that unless he surrendered, the
position of his force was desperate. Accordingly, on receipt of the
order, he and his officers expressed their readiness to accept their
dismissal. Their men were, however, in a state of mutiny, and the
officers were compelled to make their escape from the camp under cover
of night. The next morning the camp was surrounded by the English and
the troops of the Nizam, and the French then surrendered without a
shot being fired.
While the Nizam was thus rendered powerless, negotiations had been
going on with the Mahrattis; but owing to the quarrels and jealousies
of their chiefs, nothing could be done with them. It was, however,
apparent that, for the same reason, Tippoo would equally fail in his
attempt to obtain their alliance against us, and that therefore it was
with Mysore alone that we should have to deal.
In the meantime, though preparing for war, Lord Mornington was most
anxious to avoid it. When Tippoo wrote to complain that some villages
of his had been occupied by people from Coorg, the governor general
ordered their immediate restoration to him. In November he sent the
Sultan a friendly letter, pointing out that he could look for no
efficient aid from France, and that any auxiliaries who might possibly
join him would only introduce the principles of anarchy, and the
hatred of all religion, that animated the whole French nation; that
his alliance with them was really equivalent to a declaration of war
against England; and, as he was unwilling to believe that Tippoo was
actuated by unfriendly feelings, or desired to break the engagements
of the treaty entered into with him, he offered to send an officer to
Mysore to discuss any points upon which variance might have arisen,
and to arrange a scheme that would be satisfactory to them both.
To this letter no answer was received for five weeks, by which time
Lord Mornington had arrived at Madras. He then received a letter
containing a tissue of the most palpable lies concerning Tippoo's
dealings with the French. Two or three more letters passed, but as
Tippoo's answers were all vague and evasive, the governor general
issued a manifesto, on the 22nd of February, 1799, recapitulating all
the grievances against Mysore, and declaring that, though the allies
were prepared to repel any attack, they were equally anxious to effect
an arrangement with him.
But Tippoo still believed that a large French army would speedily
arrive. He had received letters from Buonaparte in person, written
from Egypt, and saying that he had arrived on the borders of the Red
Sea, "with an innumerable and invincible army, full of the desire to
deliver you from the iron yoke of England." Tippoo well knew, also,
that although the governor general spoke for himself and his allies,
the Nizam was powerless to render any assistance to the English, and
that the Mahrattis were far more likely to join him than they were to
assist his foes.
The manifesto of Lord Mornington was speedily followed by action, for
at the end of January an army of nearly 37,000 men had been assembled
at Vellore. Of these some 20,000 were the Madras force. With them were
the Nizam's army, nominally commanded by Meer Alum, but really by
Colonel Wellesley--afterwards Duke of Wellington--who had with him his
own regiment, the 33rd; 6,500 men under Colonel Dalrymple; 3,621
infantry, for the most part French troops who had re-enlisted under
us; and 6000 regular and irregular horse.
Dick, who had now attained the rank of captain, had been introduced by
one of Lord Cornwallis's old staff officers to General Harris, who, as
general of the Madras army, was in command of the whole. On hearing of
the services Dick had rendered in the last war, and that his perfect
acquaintance with the language, and with the ground over which the
army would pass, would enable him to be equally efficient on the
present occasion, General Harris at once detached him from service
with the regiment, and appointed him to a post on his own staff.
Had it not been that Dick had seen, for the last two years, that
hostilities must ere long be commenced with Tippoo; he would, before
this, have left the army and returned home. He was heartily tired of
the long inaction. When the regiment was stationed at Madras, life was
very pleasant; but a considerable portion of his time was spent at out
stations, where the duties were very light, and there was nothing to
break the monotony of camp life. He received letters regularly from
his mother, who gave him full details of their home life.
The first that he received merely announced their safe arrival in
England. The second was longer and more interesting. They had had no
difficulty in discovering the address of Annie's father, and on
writing to him, he had immediately come up to town. He had lost his
wife, on his voyage home from India, and was overjoyed at the
discovery of his daughter, and at her return to England.
"He is," Dick's mother wrote, "very much broken in health. Annie
behaved very nicely. Poor child, it was only natural that, after what
you did for her, and our being all that time with her, the thought of
leaving us for her parent, of whom she had no recollection, was a
great grief. However, I talked it over with her, many times, and
pointed out to her that her first duty was to the father who had been
so many years deprived of her, and that, although there was no reason
why she should not manifest affection for us, she must not allow him
to think, for a moment, that she was not as pleased to see him as he
was to welcome her. She behaved beautifully when her father arrived,
and when he had been in the house five minutes, and spoke of the death
of his wife, his bitter regret that she had not lived to see Annie
restored to them, the loneliness of his life and how it would be
brightened now that she was again with him, his words so touched her
that she threw herself into his arms, and sobbed out that she would do
all she could to make his life happy. He had, of course, received the
letter we had written to him from Tripataly, and quite pained me by
the gratitude he showed for what he called my kindness to his
daughter.
"He said that, by this post, he should write to endeavour to express
some of his feelings to you. Annie went away with him the next day, to
a place he has bought near Plymouth. He has promised to let us have
her for a month, every year, and we have promised to go down for the
same time, every summer, to stay with her. He asks numberless
questions about you, which neither I nor Annie are ever tired of
answering. Even with a mother's natural partiality, I must own that
her descriptions are almost too flattering, and he must think that you
are one of the most admirable of men.
"Next as to the jewels. Your father took them to be valued by several
diamond merchants, and accepted the highest offer, which was
16,000 pounds, of which he has already invested twelve, in your name,
in shares in six ships. Four of these are Indiamen. The other two are
privateers. He said that he did not think you would object to a
quarter of the money being put into a speculative venture, and that
they were both good craft, well armed and well commanded, with strong
crews; and would, if successful, earn as much in a year as a
merchantman would in ten."
Since then the letters had been of a uniform character. The shares in
the Indiamen were giving a good and steady return. The privateers had
been very fortunate, and had captured some rich prizes. Annie had been
up, or they had been down at Plymouth. The letters during the last
three years had reported her as having grown into a young woman, and,
as his mother declared, a very pretty one. After that the allusions to
her were less frequent, but it was mentioned that she was as fond of
them as ever, and that she was still unmarried.
"She always asks when you are coming home, Dick," Mrs. Holland said,
in the last letter he had received before accompanying General Harris
to Vellore. "I told her, of course, that your last letter said that
war was certain with Tippoo; that you hoped, this time, to see
Seringapatam taken and the tyrant's power broken; and that after it
was over you would come home on leave and, perhaps, would not go out
again."
During the six years that he had been in the army, Dick had very
frequently been at Tripataly, as there was little difficulty in
getting leave for a fortnight. His cousins had now grown up into young
men, Surajah commanded the troop, and his stays there were always
extremely pleasant. The troop now numbered two hundred, for with quiet
times the population of the territory had largely increased, and the
Rajah's income grown in proportion. The troop was now dressed in
uniform, and in arms and discipline resembled the irregular cavalry in
the Company's service, and when Dick arrived at Vellore he found his
uncle and cousins there with their cavalry.
"I thought, Dick, of only sending the boys," the Rajah said, "but when
the time came for them to start, I felt that I must go myself. We have
suffered enough at the hands of Mysore, and I do hope to see Tippoo's
capital taken, and his power of mischief put an end to, for good and
all."
"I am glad, indeed, that you are coming, Uncle. You may be sure that,
whenever I can get away from my duties with the general, I shall spend
most of my time in your camp, though I must occasionally drop in on my
own regiment."
The Rajah had already been down to Madras a month before, and with his
sons had been introduced to General Harris, by the latter's chief of
the staff, as having been always, like his father before him, a
faithful ally of the English, and as having accompanied Lord
Cornwallis on the occasion of the last campaign in Mysore. The general
had thanked him, heartily, for his offer to place his two hundred
cavalry at the disposal of the government, and had expressed a hope
that he, as well as his sons, would accompany it in the field.
On the 11th of February, 1799, the army moved from Vellore, but
instead of ascending by the pass of Amboor, as had been expected, it
moved southwest, ascended the pass of Paliode, and on the 9th of March
was established, without opposition, in Tippoo's territory, at a
distance of eighty miles east of his capital. They then marched north,
until they reached a village ten miles south of Bangalore. This route,
although circuitous, was chosen, as the roads were better, the country
more level, and cultivation much more general, affording far greater
facilities for the collection of forage for the baggage animals.
Hitherto, nothing had been seen of the Mysorean army. It had been
confidently expected that Tippoo would fight at least one great
battle, to oppose their advance against his capital, but so far no
signs had been seen of an enemy, and even the Mysore horse, which had
played so conspicuous a part in the last campaign, in no way
interfered with the advance of the army, or even with the foraging
parties.
A despatch that reached them, by a circuitous route, explained why
Tippoo had suffered them to advance so far unmolested. While the
Madras army had advanced from the southeast, a Bombay force, 6,500
strong, was ascending the Western Ghauts. As the advance brigade,
consisting of three native battalions, under Colonel Montresor,
reached Sedaseer; Tippoo, with 12,000 of his best troops, fell upon it
suddenly. His force had moved through the jungle, and attacked the
brigade in front and rear.
Although thus surprised, by an enemy nearly six times their superior
in force, the Sepoys behaved with a calmness and bravery that could
not have been surpassed by veteran troops. Maintaining a steady front,
they repulsed every attack, until a brigade, encamped eight miles in
their rear, came up to their assistance; and Tippoo was then forced to
retreat, having suffered a loss of 1,500 men, including many of his
best officers.
This proof of the inferiority of his troops, even when enormously
outnumbering the English, and fighting with all the advantages of
surprise, profoundly impressed Tippoo, and from this time he appeared
to regard the struggle as hopeless, and displayed no signs whatever of
the dash and energy that had distinguished him, when leading one of
the divisions of his father's army. He marched with his troops
straight to Seringapatam, and then moved out with his whole force, to
give battle to the main body of the invaders. The antagonists came
within sight of each other at the village of Malavilly, thirty miles
east of the capital. For some time an artillery fire on both sides was
kept up. Gradually the infantry became engaged, and the Mysoreans
showed both courage and steadiness, until a column of two thousand men
moved forward to attack the 33rd Regiment.
The British troops reserved their fire, until the column was within
fifty yards of them. Then they poured in a withering volley, and
charged. The column fell back in disorder. General Floyd at once
charged them, with five regiments of cavalry, sabred great numbers of
them, and drove the remainder back in headlong rout. The whole British
line then advanced, cheering loudly. The first line of Tippoo's army
fell back upon its second, and the whole then marched away, at a speed
that soon left the British infantry far behind them.
Instead of continuing his march straight upon the capital, General
Harris, learning from spies that Tippoo had wasted the whole country
along that line, moved southwest; collecting, as he went, great
quantities of cattle, sheep, and goats, and an abundance of grain and
forage; crossed the Cauvery at a ford at Sosilay; and, on the 5th of
April, took up his position at a distance of two miles from the
western face of the fort of Seringapatam.
This movement completely disconcerted Tippoo. He had imagined that the
attack would, as on the previous occasion, take place on the northern
side of the river, and had covered the approaches there with a series
of additional fortifications, while on the other side he had done but
little. So despondent was he, that he called together his principal
officers, and said to them:
"We have arrived at our last stage. What is your determination?"
His advisers took no brighter view of the prospect than he did
himself. They had unanimously opposed the war, had warned Tippoo
against trusting to the French, and had been adverse to measures that
could but result in a fresh trial of strength with the English. The
Sultan, however, while not attempting to combat their opinion, had
gone on his own way, and his officers now saw their worst fears
justified. They replied to his question:
"Our determination is to die with you."
On the day after arriving before Seringapatam, the British attacked
the villages and rocky eminences held by the enemy on the south side
of the river, and drove them back under the shelter of their guns.
General Floyd was sent, with the cavalry, to meet the Bombay force and
escort it to Seringapatam. This was accomplished, and although the
whole of the Mysore cavalry, and a strong force of infantry hovered
round the column, they did not venture to engage it, and on the 14th
the whole arrived at the camp before Seringapatam.
The Bombay force, which was commanded by General Stuart, crossed to
the north bank of the river, and took up a position, there, which
enabled them to take in flank the outlying works and trenches, with
which Tippoo had hoped to prevent any attack upon the western angle of
the fort, where the river was so shallow that it could be easily
forded.
Tippoo now endeavoured to negotiate, and asked for a conference.
General Harris returned an answer, enclosing the draft of a
preliminary treaty, with which he had been supplied before starting.
It demanded one half of Tippoo's territories, a payment of two
millions sterling, and the delivery of four of his sons as hostages.
Tippoo returned no reply, and on the 22nd the garrison made a vigorous
sortie, and were only repulsed after several hours' fighting.
For the next five days, the batteries of the besiegers kept up a heavy
fire, silenced every gun in the outlying works, and compelled their
defenders to retire across the river into the fort. Tippoo now sank
into such a state of despondency that he would listen to none of the
proposals of his officers for strengthening the position, and would
not even agree to the construction of a retrenchment, which would cut
off the western angle of the fort, against which it was evident that
the attack would be directed.
He knew that, if captured, there was little chance of his being
permitted to continue to reign; and had, indeed, made that prospect
more hopeless, by massacring all the English prisoners who had, by his
order, been brought in from the hill forts throughout the country on
his return to Seringapatam, after the repulse he had suffered in his
attack on the Bombay force.
On the 2nd of May, the batteries opened on the wall of the fort, near
its northwest angle; and so heavy was their fire that, by the evening
of the 3rd, a breach of sixty yards long was effected. General Harris
determined to assault on the following day. General Baird, who had,
for four years, been a prisoner in Seringapatam, volunteered to lead
the assault; and before daybreak 4,376 men took their places in the
advance trenches, where they lay down.
It was determined that the assault should not be made until one
o'clock, at which time Tippoo's troops, anticipating no attack, would
be taking their food, and resting during the heat of the day. The
troops who were to make the assault were divided into two columns
which, after mounting the breach, were to turn right and left,
fighting their way along the ramparts until they met at the other end.
A powerful reserve, under Colonel Wellesley, was to support them after
they had entered.
When the signal was given, the troops leapt from the trenches and,
covered by the fire of the artillery, which at the same moment opened
on the ramparts, dashed across the river, scaled the breach, and, in
six minutes from the firing of the signal gun, planted the British
flag on its crest.
Then the heads of the two columns at once started to fight their way
along the ramparts. At first the resistance was slight. Surprised and
panic stricken, the defenders of the strong works at this point
offered but a feeble resistance. Some fled along the walls. Some ran
down into the fort. Many threw themselves over the wall into the rocky
bed of the river. The right column, in less than an hour, had won its
way along the rampart to the eastern face of the fort; but the left
column met with a desperate resistance, for as each point was carried,
the enemy, constantly reinforced, made a fresh stand. Most of the
officers who led the column were shot down, and so heavy was the fire
that, several times, the advance was brought to a standstill.
It was not until the right column, making their way along the wall to
the assistance of their comrades, took them in the rear, that the
Mysoreans entirely lost heart. Taken between two fires, they speedily
became a disorganised mass. Many hundreds were shot down, either in
the fort or as, pouring out through the river gate, they endeavoured
to cross the ford and escape to the north.
As soon as the whole rampart was captured, General Baird sent an
officer with a flag of truce to the Palace, to offer protection to
Tippoo and all its inmates, on condition of immediate surrender. Two
of Tippoo's younger sons assured the officer that the Sultan was not
in the Palace. The assurance was disbelieved, and, the princes being
sent to the camp under a strong escort, the Palace was searched. The
officer in command, on being strictly questioned, declared that
Tippoo, who had in person commanded the defence made against the left
column, had been wounded, and that he had heard he was lying in a
gateway on the north side of the fort.
A search was immediately made, and the information proved correct.
Tippoo was found lying there, not only wounded, but dead. He had
indeed received several wounds, and was endeavouring to escape in his
palanquin, when this had been upset by the rush of fugitives striving
to make their way through the gate.
The gateway was, indeed, almost choked up with the bodies of those who
had been either suffocated in the crush, or killed by their pursuers.
On his palanquin being overturned, Tippoo had evidently risen to his
feet, and had at the same moment been shot through the head by an
English soldier, ignorant of his rank. In the evening he was buried
with much state, by the side of his father, in the mausoleum of Lal
Bang, at the eastern extremity of the island.
It was with great difficulty that, when the British soldiers became
aware of the massacre of their countrymen, a few days before, they
were restrained from taking vengeance upon his sons and the inmates of
the Palace. In the assault, 8000 of the defenders were killed; while
the loss of the British, during the siege and in the assault, amounted
to 825 Europeans and 639 native troops. An enormous quantity of
cannon, arms, and ammunition was captured, and the value of the
treasure and jewels amounted to considerably over a million pounds,
besides the doubtless large amount of jewels that had, in the first
confusion, fallen into the hands of the soldiers.
As Dick, after the fighting had ceased, went, by order of the General,
to examine the prisoners and ascertain their rank, his eye fell upon
an old officer, whose arm hung useless by his side, broken by a musket
ball. He went up to him, and held out his hand.
"Mirzah Mahomed Buckshy!" he exclaimed. "I am glad to meet you again,
although sorry to see that you are wounded."
The officer looked at him, in surprise.
"You have spoken my name," he said, "but I do not know that we have
ever met before."
"We have met twice. The first time I was, with a friend, dressed as
one of Tippoo's officers, and came to examine the state of Savandroog.
The second time we were dressed as merchants, and I succeeded in
effecting the liberation of my father. Both times I received much
kindness at your hands. But far more grateful am I to you for your
goodness to my father, whose life you preserved.
"I see you still carry the pistols I left for you, and doubtless you
also received the letter I placed with them."
"Thanks be to Allah," the old colonel said, "that we have thus met
again! Truly I rejoiced, when my first anger that I had been fooled
passed away, that your father had escaped, and that without my being
able to blame myself for carelessness. Your letter to me completed my
satisfaction, for I felt that Heaven had rightly rewarded the efforts
of a son who had done so much, and risked his life for a father.
"Is he alive? Is he here? I should be glad to see him again; and
indeed, I missed him sorely. I have been here for two years, having
been appointed to a command among the troops here."
"My father is well, and is in England. He will, I know, be glad indeed
to hear that I have met you, for he will ever retain a grateful
remembrance of your kindness. Now I must finish my work here, and will
then go to the general, and beg him to give me an order for your
release."
An hour later Dick returned with the order, and carried Mahomed
Buckshy off to the Rajah's camp. Here his arm was set by one of the
surgeons, and he was so well cared for by the Rajah, Dick, and
Surajah, that a fortnight later he was convalescent, and was able to
join his wife in the town.
"I am thankful," he said, on leaving, "that my life as a soldier is
over, and that I shall never more have to fight against the English.
Tippoo was my master, but it is he who, by his cruelty and ambition,
has brought ruin upon Mysore. I have saved enough to live in comfort
for the rest of my life, and to its end I shall rejoice that I have
again met the son of my friend Jack."
The capture of Seringapatam was followed, at once, by the entire
submission of the whole country. A descendant of the old Rajah of
Mysore was placed upon the throne. His rule was, however, but a
nominal one. A very large amount of territory was annexed. The island
of Seringapatam was permanently occupied as a British possession. The
new rajah was bound to receive, and pay, a large military force for
the defence of his territories; not to admit any European foreigners
into his dominions; to allow the Company to garrison any fort in
Mysore that might seem advisable to them; and to pay, at all times,
attention to such advice as might be given him as to the
administration of his affairs. He was, in fact, to be but a puppet,
the British becoming the absolute rulers of Mysore.
The family of Tippoo, and the ladies of the harem, were removed to
Vellore, where they were to receive a palace suitable to their former
rank and expectations, and allowances amounting to 160,000 pounds a
year.
Thus Mysore, one of the most ancient and powerful of the kingdoms of
India, fell into the hands of the English, owing to the ambition,
bigotry, and besotted cruelty of the son of a usurper.
Dick's part in all these operations had been a busy, although not a
very dangerous one. The only share he had taken in the active fighting
had been in the battle at Malavilly, where, having been sent with a
message to Colonel Floyd, just before he led the cavalry to the
assault of the column that had attacked the 33rd, he took his place by
the side of the Rajah and his cousins, whose troop formed part of
Floyd's command, and joined in the charge on the enemy. He had,
however, rendered great services in the quartermasters' department,
was very highly spoken of in the despatches of General Harris, and his
name appeared, as promoted to the rank of major, in the list of
honours promulgated by Lord Mornington, at the termination of the
campaign.
His regiment was among those selected for the occupation of Mysore,
and, a month after the capture of the city, he obtained leave to
return to England. He stayed for a week at Tripataly, and then took an
affectionate farewell of his uncle, the ranee, his cousins, and
Surajah, and sailed from Madras a fortnight later. The ship in which
he was a passenger was accompanied by two other Indiamen; and when, a
fortnight out they encountered a French frigate; which, however, they
beat off, and arrived in England without further adventure.
As soon as he landed, Dick drove to the house where his father and
mother had taken up their residence, on their arrival in England; but
he found to his surprise that, eight months before, they had moved to
another, in the village of Hackney. He proceeded there, and found it
to be a considerably larger one than that they had left, and standing
in its own grounds, which were of some extent. He had written to them
after the fall of Seringapatam, and told them that he should probably
sail for England about six weeks later. As the vehicle drove to the
door, his father and mother ran out. His father grasped his hand, and
his mother threw her aims round his neck, with tears of joy.
As soon as the first greeting was over, Dick saw a young lady, in deep
mourning, standing on the steps. He looked at her for a moment in
surprise, and then exclaimed:
"It is Annie Mansfield!"
Annie held out her hand, and laughed.
"We are both changed almost beyond recognition, Dick."
Then she added, demurely, "The last time, I had to ask you--"
"You sha'n't have to ask me again, Annie," he said, giving her a
hearty kiss. "My first impulse was to do it, but I did not know
whether your sentiments on the subject had changed."
"I am not given to change," she said.
"Am I, Mrs. Holland?"
"I don't think you are, my dear. I think there is a little spice of
obstinacy in your composition.
"But come in, Dick. Don't let us stand talking here at the door, when
we have so much to say to each other."
He went into the sitting room with his father and mother, where Annie
presently left them to themselves.
"Why, Father, the privateers must have done well, indeed!" Dick said,
looking round the handsome room.
"I have nothing to grumble at, on that score, Dick, though they have
not been so lucky the last two years. But it is not their profits that
induced us to move here. You saw Annie was in mourning. Her father
died, nearly a year ago, and at her earnest request, as he said in his
will, appointed us her guardians until she came of age, which will be
in a few months now. As he had no near relations, he left the whole of
his property to her; and having been in India in the days when, under
Warren Hastings, there were good pickings to be obtained, it amounted
to a handsome fortune. She said that she should come and live with us,
at any rate until she became of age; and as that house of ours, though
a comfortable place, was hardly the sort of house for an heiress, she
herself proposed that we should take a larger house between us.
"And so, here we are. We shall stay here through the winter, and then
we are going down to her place at Plymouth for the summer. What we
shall do, afterwards, is not settled. That must depend upon a variety
of things."
"She has grown much prettier than I ever thought she would do," Dick
said. "Of course, I knew she would have grown into a woman, but
somehow I never realised it, until I saw her, and I believe I have
always thought of her as being still the girl I carried off from
Seringapatam."
In a few minutes Annie joined them, and the talk then turned upon
India, and many questions were asked as to their friends at Tripataly.
"I suppose by this time, Annie--at least, I hope I may still call you
Annie?"
"If you call me anything else, I shall not answer," she said
indignantly.
"Well, I was going to say, I suppose you have got a good deal beyond
words of two letters, now?"
"I regard the question as an impertinent one. I have even mastered
geography; the meaning of which word you may remember, you explained
to me; and I have a partial knowledge of history."
The next day Dick met an old friend, Ben Birket. Dick had kept his
promise, and had written to him as soon as he returned to Tripataly
with his father, and a few weeks after Captain Holland's return, his
old shipmate came to see him and his wife. Ben had for some time
thought of retiring, and he now left the sea, and settled down in a
little cottage near. Captain Holland insisted upon settling a small
pension upon him, and he was always a welcome guest at the house. His
delight at Dick's return was extreme.
"I never thought you would do it, Master Dick, never for a moment, and
when on coming home I got your letter, and found that the Captain and
your mother were in England, it just knocked me foolish for a bit."
Three weeks later, Dick told Annie that he loved her. He spoke without
any circumlocution, merely taking her hand one evening, when they
happened to be alone together, and telling her so in plain words.
"I know nothing of women, Annie," he said, "or their ways. I have been
bothering myself how to set about it, but though I don't know how to
put it, I do know that I love you dearly. All these years I have been
thinking about you--not like this, you know, but as the dear, plucky
little girl of the old days."
"The little girl of old days, Dick," she said quietly, "is in no way
changed. I think you know what I thought of you, then. I have never
for a moment wavered. I gave you all the love of my heart, and you
have had it ever since.
"Why, you silly boy," she said, with a laugh, a few minutes later, "I
had begun to think that, just as I had to ask you for a kiss in the
old times, and again when you met me, I should have to take this
matter in hand. Why, I never thought of anything else. Directly I got
old enough to look upon myself as a woman, and young men began to come
to the house, I said to my dear father:
"'It is of no use their coming here, Father. My mind has been made up
for years, and I shall never change.'
"He knew at once what I meant.
"'I don't blame you, my dear,' he said. 'Of course, you are young at
present, but he has won you fairly; and if he is at all like what you
make him out to be, I could not leave you in better hands. He will be
home in another three or four years, and I shall have the comfort of
having you with me, until then. But you must not make too sure of it.
He may fall in love out there. You know that there is plenty of
society at Madras.'
"I laughed at the idea.
"'All the pretty ones either come out to be married, or get engaged on
the voyage, or before they have been there a fortnight. I have no
fear, Father, of his falling in love out there, though I don't say he
might not when he gets home, for of course he thinks of me only as a
little girl.'
"'Well, my dear,' he said, 'we will get him, and his father and
mother, to come down as soon as he gets home. As you have made up your
mind about it, it is only right that you should have the first
chance.'
"It was not to be as he planned, Dick, but you see I have had the
first chance, and it is well it was so, for no one can say how matters
would have turned out, if I had not been on the spot. Do you know,
Dick, I felt that when you rescued me from slavery, you became somehow
straightway my lord and master. As you carried me that night before
you, I said to myself I should always be your little slave; and you
see, it has come quite true."
"I don't know about that, Annie. We are in England now, and there are
no slaves. You will be the mistress now, and I your devoted servant."
"It will be as I say, Dick," she said tenderly. "I feel that, to the
end of my life, I shall remain your willing slave."
There was nothing to prevent an early marriage. It was settled that
Captain and Mrs. Holland should retain the house, which indeed they
could well afford to do, and that Dick and Annie should reside there
whenever they were in town, but that, as a rule, they would live at
the estate her father had purchased, near Plymouth. Their means were
ample, for during the eight years he was in the Service, Dick's 12,000
pounds had, as his father had predicted, doubled itself; and Annie's
fortune was at least as large as his own.
Dick had good reason to bless, to the end of his life, his mother's
plan; that had resulted in the double satisfaction of restoring his
father to her, and in winning for himself the woman whom he ever
regarded as the dearest and best wife in the world.