Zemindar (98 page)

‘For don’t you see, Miss Laura,’ Mr Roberts explained patiently, ‘if over five hundred men were lost coming through the city when unencumbered even by camp-followers, think what the casualties would be if they were to try to fight their way out again, taking with them some six hundred women and children, to say nothing of the sick?’

‘But surely, with our own men to help them … ?’

‘There are only nine hundred and eighty of us left, Miss Laura,’ Mr Roberts reminded me solemnly, ‘of the 1,720 of the first counting.’

‘And so we remain and endure? Just as before?’

‘Except that I believe it will be rather worse. I do not envisage starvation. I believe that the opinion that there were a great deal more provisions available to us than Brigadier Inglis was ever aware of, has now been verified. We will certainly eat, even with the added numbers now with us, but less than we have been eating so far. And the cold weather is almost upon us and we have no warm clothing. The unfortunate men of the relief, indeed, arrived with two days’ rations and what they stood up in, their thin summer uniforms.’

‘And how long are we to “endure”, Mr Roberts? Has anyone indicated any length of time?’

‘No, one cannot be sure, Mr Erskine. But weeks, no more. Merely a few weeks.’

Mr Roberts was looking better than he had done for weeks; not quite his old self, but the trembling in his hands was less, his colour better and his sniff almost gone. I commented on his improvement after he had left us.

‘Perhaps, having had to be without the stuff for so long, he has overcome the craving, Kate.’

Oliver looked from one face to the other with interest.

‘More likely he has found a new source,’ Kate replied.

‘But how?’

‘Oh, a sepoy, or some canny private soldier, perhaps, guessing he would find privation here, bought up a supply in some Cawnpore bazaar and brought it in with him. Let us hope Mr Roberts does not have to do without again before too long.’

‘Opium?’ asked Oliver.

We nodded.

‘Funny how it gets the most unlikely ones,’ he said without surprise.

‘I think he is much lonelier than he would like people to know,’ I said. ‘He is a sensitive man, and craves companionship. He must have had a sad life since his wife died and his daughters married. No real roots or home. I suppose books can’t provide everything, even for him.’

Charles had entered our quarters for his evening visit to Pearl just as Mr Roberts left, and stood now leaning against the doorjamb with his daughter cradled in his arm. She was satisfied after her meal and dozed contentedly, holding Charles’s forefinger in her little hand. She was now so active and so curious about her small world that we all knew relief when she fell asleep.

‘The suppliers of the stuff should be shot,’ he muttered angrily. ‘No man should be allowed to become dependent on the fumes of a wretched weed. It’s degrading!’

‘So is liquor, if you allow it to be,’ pointed out Oliver.

‘True—but this stuff! We’ve had some trouble because of it only today, down at our post. One of the sepoys, a decent fellow who has done his duty well all through, suddenly put down his musket, hopped over Fayrer’s garden wall and walked out into the no-man’s land beyond where the earthworks are going up for the extended position. Shot before he’d gone ten paces. His friends told us he had located a supply among the relief, but having no money, could not get hold of any. Just gave up in despair and decided death was preferable.’

‘You were right then, Kate,’ I said.

‘Unfortunately.’

‘What is this extended position you mention, Charles?’ asked his brother.

‘Oh, I keep forgetting what an old hermit you are. A somewhat sybaritic one, mind you, lolling back there on your pillows, being waited upon by this band of devoted women, but, of course, you can know nothing of what is going on outside. I suppose you are familiar with this place, though, as it was before the trouble?’

‘Reasonably.’

‘Well, the area Lawrence managed to enclose and fortify, the area we have been living and fighting in all this time, is pretty confined, particularly now with so many extra men, to say nothing of the grass-cutters, grooms and servants that came in with them. As soon as Outram got in and weighed up the position, he decided to extend the perimeter. We’ve been busy clearing out the houses beyond the present walls—spiking guns, blowing up batteries, blowing down mosques—the idea being to enlarge the entrenchment to include the Farhat Baksh Palace and the Chathar Manzil to the south as far as Phillips’s house to the east. Give us a lot more room for living and make things a little less convenient for the gentlemen over the wall. There’ve been sorties every day, pitched battles some of ’em, and of course we’ve had our reverses, but the palaces are all but enclosed now and Havelock’s men are living pretty “cushily”, I can tell you, in marble halls tricked out with precious stones. We tried to clear the road to Cawnpore, too, so that Outram could withdraw with some of his men to the Alum Bagh, but now that so much grain and flour has been discovered here, that idea has been given up. Not but what some variety in the meals would have been most acceptable to us all if he had been able to get through to his supplies!’

‘What’s he like, Outram? You seem to be so much in the know.’

‘A great chap and a good soldier, Outram!’ Charles answered. ‘A thorough-going gentleman to boot. Why, do you know what he did when he arrived at Cawnpore, to take over command from Havelock?’

‘Not an idea. Military gossip isn’t much in my line at the best of times.’

‘Well, but you must know it was Havelock who took Cawnpore?’

‘I had heard.’

‘He arrived in Allahabad straight from the campaign in Persia and was ordered to take command of the British infantry, artillery and volunteer cavalry and get to Cawnpore with all possible haste. Well, of course, he was too late to help you people there, but he tried, and by heavens he had a hard time of it too.’

‘Poor fellow!’ sympathized Oliver.

Charles paused and blinked, not quite sure how to take this, then went on: ‘Delays, diversions, muddle, illness, battles and sorties all the way, and then, having taken Cawnpore, he discovers that he is to be superseded, at the behest of Calcutta, by Outram. Enough to embitter any man, don’t you think? And Outram must have realized it, for when he reached Cawnpore, after Havelock, he waived his right of command and asked Havelock to accept his services in the capacity of Civil Chief Commissioner, and a volunteer, until Lucknow was reached. Handsome, I call it. Only a big man could have done that.’

‘Very well bred. Most genteel, in fact. But damned confusing to the poor beggars under ’em!’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Nobody knew whom they were to obey,’ Oliver expatiated. ‘Each generous general was giving way to the other with great punctilio, and the result was chaos. Even in the few days I was with them, I saw only too clearly what happens when two tails try to wag one dog. Outram, as you say, Charles, is a gentleman. He confined himself to suggestions. But Havelock also is a gentleman and so treated all Outram’s suggestions as orders. Except, of course, that when Outram advised a respite before pushing on into the Residency, Havelock for once insisted on his own opinion and moved in—with woeful results, as was apparent when I came in with Ungud the following day.’

‘Havelock’s only human, after all.’

‘A holy human too, so they tell me. A regular praying mantis.’

‘And in your opinion that is to his discredit?’

‘No …’ Oliver considered the question. ‘But it is not automatically to his credit, shall I say?’

Charles jiggled his daughter in his arms in an access of irritation and burst out, ‘By heavens, Oliver, I don’t know how you do it! After all you have been through, after all that you have been saved from … to have no faith!’

‘Now why should you say that, Charles?’ his brother queried mildly. ‘I did not say I had no faith. I merely said that praying does not, in my view, automatically make a good man; still less a good soldier.’

‘Now hush, you two!’ I broke in. ‘You squabble like schoolboys the minute you set eyes on each other. Cannot you see, Charles, that he is only baiting you? Don’t play his game.’

Charles was too stung to be quiet.

‘I … I know, Oliver, that what we have suffered here has been nothing in comparison to what you underwent in Cawnpore, but … but nevertheless, we all, and I personally, have known grief and loss and … and great anguish. For me to find a man like General Havelock, a true Christian, a gentleman and a great soldier, living his belief with humility and courage in the face of mockery and criticism and … in spite of everything, is … is a true inspiration.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it. Inspire away, Charles, inspire away. But accord me the courtesy of allowing me to hold my own opinions.’

‘You don’t … why can you not … Oh, be damned to you, Oliver!’ And Charles thrust the baby into my arms and strode out of the room, followed by Kate.

‘Now there’s a right-minded fellow, Laura. Damning his own kin for no good reason, and when he should be giving a good example to the heathen!’

‘You shouldn’t tease him so, Oliver. You know, he really is very convinced about his religion.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yes. He always was in a way. Don’t you remember the Sunday morning services after breakfast in Hassanganj? The collects, lessons and Lord’s prayer?’

‘Do I not? I had a dread that one day his natural instincts would get the better of him and he’d launch into the sermon too!’

‘Yes, that was why the elephants had to be inspected on Sundays!’

‘Not entirely. I could not bear your too evident admiration, your somewhat overzealous participation. I knew it was out of character for you to indulge in piety, so I looked for the cause … and found it.’

‘That must have been in the very early days of our visit to Hassanganj. But now, well, it’s different with him, Oliver, and you must realize it. Emily’s death was … he feels responsible for it. I know it’s absurd, but I can only guess what he went through when she died. I know what he suffered when he thought she was going to die, when the baby was coming. Guilt and remorse, and the fear that he could never make amends. In a way it is as well we are here and going through all this. In more normal circumstances, I believe he would have fared worse, after Emily’s death. As it is, he has taken to the Bible and prayer and … well, you must admit that that is better than drink!’

Oliver chuckled. Then chuckled louder. Then broke into a great guffaw of remarkably robust laughter for a convalescent.

Dr Darby had decreed ten days’ bed-rest for Oliver. Since the fever had broken, he had improved in health and spirits at an extraordinary rate, so I was not surprised when, on the eleventh morning, as soon as he had finished his breakfast, he commanded Toddy to shave him, since he intended to get up and go out. ‘Get rid of these blasted whiskers, Tod,’ he ordered. ‘They make me feel like a flea in a blanket.’

‘Don’t do nothin’ for your appearance neither, Guv,’ commented Tod as he went in search of hot water, gram flour and a razor.

Toddy had attended two or three auctions of dead men’s effects, and when he had finished shaving Oliver, Ishmial carried in an assortment of trousers and shirts and a corduroy shooting jacket, to see which would best fit his master. Presently, supported by his two retainers, Oliver limped out of the bedroom and into the mild golden sunshine I was enjoying on the verandah.

None knew better than I who had nursed him that he had lost weight, but seeing him clothed and upright, I was shocked at how bone-thin he had become. The shabby cast-off clothing hung on him, the trousers were some three inches too short, exposing bony ankles above the string-soled native sandals in which he had arrived in the entrenchment. The bushy, untrimmed whiskers had been disposed of and I looked into a face as chalky white as Pearl’s and even more angular than Kate’s had become. The large nose protruded over the wide well-formed mouth, more compressed now than I recalled it, and bearing the unmistakable imprint of tension and pain. The amber eyes still glowed with life and at that moment were merry at the thought of the sight he must present, but they had sunk deeper under the heavy brows and looked dark against the pallor of his face. Their expression, too, had altered in these hard months. There was a tolerance, a kindness even, now apparent behind the customary quizzicalness of the gaze I encountered.

‘Will I do?’

‘Beautifully—but for the shoes.’

‘Oh, Tod has found me a splendid pair of boots, but my feet are not yet healed. These things are more comfortable for the moment.’

‘And they will prevent you from running away,’ I pointed out.

A couple of days later I returned to my duties in the hospital. Jessie was delighted to stay at home again with Pearl and the household chores, but it was with acute reluctance that I left Oliver, for to me every moment away from him was a moment of life wasted.

So engrossed had I been in his welfare, so oblivious to everything outside the magic of his presence in our two dark little rooms, that I found myself walking through an unfamiliar world. Guns still boomed at irregular intervals, but at a distance, and because of the enlargement of the enclave, the morning was innocent of musket fire. The buildings through which I walked were as ruined as I remembered them; but where, only two weeks before, I had had to clamber over mounds of wreckage, keeping a wary eye out for shaky walls or crumbling brickwork, now the lanes were cleared and the rubble mounded in neat piles where it could most easily be employed in repairing or reinforcing the walls. For months I had seldom caught even a glimpse of a woman as I had hurried to and from the hospital. Now the females of the entrenchment strolled with their children in the October sunshine, gossiping and laughing in the easy assurance of safety, and more remarkable still, beyond the great open gates of the Baillie Guard, men moved in freedom over the war-scarred terrain so recently alive with pandies and their guns.

Conditions and space in the hospital were better at least. Large tents had been erected beside the Banqueting Hall and in addition the upper storey of the building, now considered safe from enemy fire, had been sketchily repaired for use. One could move between the beds without fear of stepping on a wounded limb, but otherwise not much had changed. There were still no medicines, no panaceas, no instruments. No bedsteads, mattresses or pillows. No strong broths, no port-wine jellies, no puréed vegetables appropriate for the sick. And it was getting cold now; the chill of the stone floor on which the men lay bit through the straw pallets and rush mats and was scarcely ameliorated by the single dirty blanket that was each man’s portion. There was more help, of course: several doctors and orderlies and a few apothecary-assistants had come in with the relief. I sighed to myself, however, as I looked down the dark familiar room; there were far too many faces I recognized from two weeks before and, of those I missed, how many were recovered and how many in the graveyard?