The Sabre's Edge Read online

  General Campbell looked astonished. 'That is not the opinion of my brigadiers.'

  'They must answer for themselves, General,' replied Hervey confidently. 'With respect, sir, you asked me for my opinion.'

  The general made no reply for the moment. He might at other times have been angry, but now he was thoroughly baffled. He might be new-come to India, but he had fought here long ago, and in Mysore, and it was 'the India rule' that a prompt attack confounded the enemy. Was that not, indeed, the duke's own tactic at Assaye? It had certainly been their method at Seringapatam. 'Then what would be your course?'

  Hervey imagined the answer was obvious. He managed nevertheless to hide his dismay. 'Let them expend their effort in coming to us. Fight them in the open, or at the forest's edge, not when they're behind their walls. We might borrow some of the navy's artillery, too.'

  'I don't care for the notion of waiting,' replied Campbell, shaking his head very decidedly.

  ‘I am not suggesting we sit idly, sir. There is much to be done by way of outposts and patrols, and harassing. The thing is this: the Burmans must come to us if they are to seek any decision. They have no alternative. In which case we can make their work devilish unpleasant.'

  The general sighed, loud and rather peevishly, then lapsed into silence.

  After what seemed an age, Hervey judged his attendance no longer required. He replaced his shako, saluted and left for his quarters without a word.

  He was not long there when the same ADC announced that General Campbell would see him again. Hervey put down the pencil once more and returned to the headquarter office, unsure this time whether he would hear testimony for inclusion in his letter of denunciation, or another outburst of anger (Campbell was hardly likely to reproach him for not seeking formal permission to dismiss?).

  In truth, he did not much care what was the reason. Indeed, there was almost an air of truculence about Captain Hervey as he opened the general's door.

  ‘You make a lot of sense, Hervey,' said Campbell, briskly. 'A lot of sense. I have decided to attack the Burmans when they reach the forest edge. But I shall not sit idly until then. We must have very active outpost work - patrols and the like - day and night. Put the Burmans on edge, deny 'em sleep. And I've decided to lead an attack myself on one of these stockades. Tomorrow. Can't abide sitting here another minute!'

  Hervey was cheered; also gratified by the general's confidences, if uncertain as to their cause. 'Shall you want me to accompany you, sir?'

  Campbell looked rather surprised. 'If you would like to, yes. But don't trouble yourself if there are other duties to be about.'

  Hervey took his leave, formally this time. He returned to his quarters and resumed his letter-writing mystified in no small degree by the affair.

  At long length he finished the deposition, with its postscript on the general's new intentions, and signed it wearily. He laid down his pencil, then he picked it up again, adding after his signature, 'We must, however, allow that the general is a gallant man.'

  In the afternoon, there being no duties to detain him, Hervey went aboard Liffey to dine.

  Peto's mood had changed; he was no longer merely exasperated. Flowerdew had to give him wide berth as he circled with the decanter, the commodore's gesticulations becoming more and more extravagant. 'Half my ships ply to Calcutta like packets, now, and the rest all but careened here. And the crews sicken: Marryat hasn't an officer or warrant officer fit for duty, and he's had ten men die already. I'm sending Larne to sea for better air. In a month I'll have no ships in fighting trim at this rate.' He waved the decanter away, and then waved it back again. 'Dammee, this is no longer just a business of the Company's sovereignty. The honour of the Service is at stake!'

  Hervey sipped at his glass of hock, chilled very tolerably by its immersion for several days in the river. He could understand his friend's dismay, for this was His Majesty's navy's first trial since— cBut the two are in consonance, surely? Ava is the object, is it not?'

  Peto subsided but frowned severely. ‘Only up to a point, Hervey. The Company will have safeguarded its position by defeating the Burmans' design. All they have to do is stop his offensives in Arakan and force a treaty. You know full well it was the commander-in-chief's opinion that we should have stood solely on the defensive. Whereas the Royal Navy shot its way into Rangoon and cannot .now move but out the way it came!'

  'Ay, but unless Bagyidaw is deposed there'll be no end of alarms,' countered Hervey, shaking his head and reflecting the commodore's frown. 'Someone shall have to go to Ava. Of that there's no doubt.'

  Peto beckoned his steward to serve their dinner. 'And what if he should delay so long as to be then unable to clear the Irawadi? It would be my ships that are seen to turn.'

  Hervey blanched. 'Are you suggesting we abandon it? How will that serve the honour of the navy?'

  'I am suggesting no such thing. I am suggesting that the commander-in-chief will break off the campaign here when the attacks on the borders of the Company's territory have been repulsed. And we shall have to steal away from this place without a shot - like thieves in the night.'

  Hervey looked doubtful. 'That is if the Governor-General is of the same mind as the commander-in-chief.'

  Peto huffed. 'Amherst has the mind of a nincompoop, as we have ample evidence.'

  'What would be your design?'

  'To reduce the garrison here to what is required only to repulse an attack. What would that be? A brigade? No more, surely? And then to take off the remainder at once to force the Irawadi. Rangoon will draw in the Burmans from far and wide, and that we should take advantage of. But there's no profit in sitting here the while with so many, and all my ships tied up supporting them. And for that matter, every day our numbers dwindling.'

  'I grant you we might force the Irawadi. But without the strength to garrison it, the lines of communication would be at the Burmans' mercy. This general, Maha Bundula - he would see it at once.'

  Peto looked put out. T thought you might have allowed that I would see the same!'

  Hervey frowned. 'I don't comprehend, Peto.'

  'All these transports and escorts now plying back and forth across the Bay of Bengal: all they're doing is feeding the garrison here. Cut the garrison by two-thirds and there'd be no need of external supply. I could land half my own stores. It would see them through any siege. And the ships released thereby could keep open the Irawadi.'

  Hervey pondered the notion as Flowerdew laid a plate of fish on the table. 'Have you shared this opinion with the general?’

  'I have sent him a memorandum, just before you came.’

  Hervey wondered how it would be received. The fall of Ava was not essential to the general's reputation. All that was necessary was for him to hold Rangoon. It was not his fault that the Burmans hadn't flocked to his support. If the commander-in-chief wished him to take Ava against such opposition, then he would have to supply him with the means to do so. And yet, the taking of Ava in such very trying circumstances -against the odds - would surely be his making? 'He intends awaiting a general attack for a week or so. He will certainly want the support of your guns. And tomorrow he is going to lead an assault on one of the stockades.'

  'And do you go with him?'

  'Yes. He intends that I should write the despatch.’

  ‘I’ve a mind to come with you, but I’ve called my captains aboard.’

  Hervey smiled. 'There'll be more opportunities, I assure you. The general is determined to have the garrison as active as possible while he waits.'

  Peto helped his guest to a fair portion of fish.

  'Bekti. The best you'll ever taste. Caught this morning and brought upriver by Diana. What a boon she is.'

  Hervey had seen steam on water before, first in a boat no bigger than Liffey's cutter on the Blackwater river in Ireland, and then the barge that had towed their transports steadily upstream on the St Lawrence, six winters ago. But nothing like Diana. Diana was a gunship, her ports painted Nel
son-style, and her smokestack half as high as Liffey's mainmast. 'The baby figure of things to come, do you think?'

  'Of some things, perhaps. But Diana could never stand off in a fight. A twelve-pounder would smash her paddles to pieces. I can't risk her in the van too long if the river narrows and the forts get her range.'

  Hervey tried his fish. 'I don't know whether it's because I've not had a spoonful of anything half-decent in a week, but this I agree is uncommonly good.'

  Peto looked pleased. He drained his glass and let Flowerdew refill it. Then he leaned back in his chair. 'Let us speak of agreeable things for a time. I never told you my news, did I? It is signed and sealed and I had a note of it only yesterday.'

  Hervey indulged his friend by laying down his fork and sitting back to receive the evidently happy intelligence.

  'I have bought an estate near my father's living.'

  cAn estate, indeed,’ said Hervey, as impressed as he was surprised.

  'Nothing on any grand scale. And the house shall need attention. But it has a good park, and is but a short drive from the sea.’

  Hervey wondered why a man who so much disdained being ashore should take such a course. cDo you plan going on half pay?’

  'It will come to it, Hervey; it will come to it. I have a tidy sum invested in Berry's cellars, and another in two-per-cents, but I have a notion of something a shade more . . . substantial.’

  Hervey smiled. 'Then you are not contemplating matrimony?’

  Peto raised his glass and took a very urbane sip. 'A man in his right mind who contemplates matrimony will never embark upon it, Hervey. In any case, a house has no need of a mistress - only a keeper.’

  Hervey said nothing.

  Peto realized the import. 'Oh, my dear fellow: I am so dreadfully sorry. I—’

  Hervey smiled and shook his head. 'Think nothing of it. I'll take another glass of your hock, and drink to your arrangements in Norfolk.’

  Peto cursed himself for being the fool.

  Corporal Wainwright came to Hervey’s quarters before first light with a canteen of tea, and returned shortly afterwards with hot water. Their exchanges were few.

  'It's raining, sir.'

  Hervey wondered at the need of this news, supposing that the hammering on the roof was the same that had been for the last fortnight.

  'And the guard says it's been raining all night, sir.'

  This much was perhaps of some moment, since the going would clearly be of the heaviest, perhaps even preventing the general from taking the field piece. Hervey sighed to himself at the thought of another affair of the bayonet. The wretched infantry - no better served now by the Board of Ordnance than if they had been with Marlborough a century past. For ten years - more - he, Hervey, had had a carbine that would fire in the worst of weather, yet the Ordnance showed not the least sign of interest. The notion of a percussion cap when a piece of flint would do seemed to the board an affront to economy. And little wonder if its members were as fat-headed as Campbell.

  Hervey sighed again as he drank the sweet tea in satisfying gulps. Perseverance - that was the soldier's virtue. It was both duty and consolation. 'Corporal Wainwright, I give you leave to remain here and keep things dry.'

  'And I decline it, sir, if you please. Thanking you for the consideration, that is, sir.'

  Hervey smiled. 'It was not entirely for your welfare, Corporal Wainwright. I had a thought to my own comfort on return!'

  'I'll engage one of the sepoys, sir.'

  Hervey smiled again as he rose to his toilet. 'It's not what I said it would be, Corporal Wainwright, is it? Hardly the dashing campaign, with gold to fill the pockets.'

  Corporal Wainwright pulled the thatch from Hervey's boots and began to rub up the blacking while Hervey began lathering his shaving brush. ‘I don't hold with stealing, sir, and it seems to me, from what I've heard, that that's all it amounts to half the time. Prize money's a different thing. But plundering a place is no better than thieving.'

  'Your sensibility does you credit, Corporal Wainwright. The duke himself would applaud it.' Hervey spoke his words carefully, but only because he had regard to the razor's edge.

  'Pistols sir? I'm taking mine.'

  'I suppose so. It is conceivable the rain will cease.'

  'What I should like to know, sir, is how rain stays up in the sky before it begins to fall.'

  Hervey held the razor still. 'You know, I have never given it a thought. Nor, indeed, do I recall anyone else doing so. I suppose there is an answer.' He resumed his shaving.

  'I'll bind the oilskin extra-tight, sir. Wherever this rain's coming from, there doesn't look to be any shortage.'

  In a few minutes more, Hervey was finished. He dressed quickly, thinking the while of the rain question. 'The rain is in the clouds. That much is obvious.'

  Yet that was only a very partial answer (consistent with his knowledge of natural history). The rain outside descended as a solid sheet of water -the noise on the roof was, if anything, louder than when he woke - yet how did it rise to the height of the clouds in the first place, and then stay aloft?

  'Steam. Steam rises’ he said, pulling on his boots. 'That Diana works that way, I think.'

  Corporal Wainwright said nothing, content instead to listen to the emerging theory.

  'A great deal of this rain must have begun as steam.'

  But then why should it now fall as rain? And where did all the steam come from in the first instance?

  'For the rest I must ask Commodore Peto. The weather is his business. For us it is just weather, I fear.' He fastened closed his tunic. It had become a poor affair with a daily soaking this past month.

  Wainwright took away the bowl of water.

  Hervey looked out, observed the downpour and put off his visit to the latrines until after breakfast.

  He sat down at his desk-cum-table still turning over the rain question in his mind. Peto would surely know a great deal more - all there was to know, probably. But what opportunity he would have to pose his query in the coming weeks, he couldn't tell. The commodore had declared he would be taking Liffey and two of the brigs out to blow good sea air through her decks and give the hands practice with canvas again.

  Wainwright was soon back with Hervey's breakfast - excellent coffee (he had been careful to lay in a store of that before leaving Calcutta) and a very indifferent gruel. Hervey thanked his luck for the supper of bekti the night before, and for the lump of salt pork that Peto had pressed on him to bring ashore. It would be their ration today, for the salt beef had now gone, and it was biscuit only again.

  In half an hour the bugle summoned him -'general parade'. He put on his shako, fastened his swordbelt and drew on his gloves. He looked at the pistols, wondering. He picked up both and pushed them into his belt: if the rain did stop, he'd feel undressed without them. He wished he'd brought his carbine, but it had seemed the last thing he would need when he joined the general's staff in Calcutta.

  The sortie paraded outside the north gate. They were six companies, three British and three native, together with two field pieces - a six-pounder and a howitzer - some five hundred men in all, and another fifty dhoolie-bearers. They gave an impression of unity by their red coats, except for the artillerymen, who wore blue, but close to they were rather more disparate than a Calcutta inspecting officer would have been used to. It was but a fortnight since the landing, and already some of the troops had a ragged appearance which spoke of their exertions and the flimsiness of their uniforms, as well as the lack of supply. For the most part, the trousers were white, summer pattern, but heavily patched, and the sepoy companies had abandoned their boots. Some of the officers wore forage caps. The general, indeed, wore one. Hervey would have been appalled had he not witnessed all that had gone before: an officer of the Sixth never wore a forage cap but in the lines. That it should have come to this in one month beggared belief.

  There was no doubting the effect as a whole, however. In close order, and from a distance,
these men looked like a solid red wall. They would stand, come what may. And their muskets - they would know how to handle them, for sure. Five rounds in the minute at their best - how could the Burmans match or bear it? The trouble was, the best volleying was only possible with dry powder.

  General Campbell was rapt in conversation with the sortie's lieutenant-colonel, a short, stocky man whose voice was said to be the loudest in the expedition. Hervey studied the general carefully. He had not fully appreciated his height before, for he seemed now to stand taller than any man on parade. Without doubt, Sir Archibald Campbell had the crack and physique to convince a subordinate of his competence; Hervey pushed all his doubting thoughts to the back of his mind.