A Call to Arms

Major Joynson called on Eyre Somervile that afternoon. They had met only twice before, but Somervile was pleased to receive him: the major’s note in advance had not been entirely specific, but Somervile had heard already of the affair of the nullah. Over tea, Joynson explained to him the extent of his — and the commanding officer’s — concern for their mutual friend. Somervile nodded from time to time, approving the estimation.

‘He will not take leave at this time — and very understandably — but he might be inclined to do so if you were to invite him,’ said Joynson in conclusion.

Somervile thought for a moment. ‘I should have said, Major, that once Matthew Hervey had determined where his duty lay, nothing would induce him to do otherwise. I am flattered that you think I might have some influence, but if he has determined that leave is contrary to his duty, then I very much fear he will be immovable.’

The major nodded slowly. ‘And I fear that he has formed that notion very surely. Might I ask you, however, to do what is in your power to divert him these coming weeks? It will not do to have him in the lines every minute of the day.’

Somervile smiled. ‘Of course, Major.’

Joynson made to rise.

‘I do have a thought,’ added Somervile, appearing to be turning over an idea. ‘Your object is principally to remove our friend from the garrison for a time, not from his troop.’

‘The latter, to my mind, would be desirable, but yes, the principal object is to distance him from the garrison — the brigadier especially.’

‘Well, an opportunity arises. I am to leave Calcutta next week for Chittagong; I shall be there some months, possibly. I see no reason why I should not apply for a troop of cavalry to accompany me.’

‘That would be capital,’ said Joynson, much animated by the proposition. ‘Indeed, I believe it might be altogether better than his taking leave, for the change of air would serve his troop well, too. Yes, apply, do. I shall speak with Sir Ivo the minute he returns.’

Three days later, Hervey learned of his assignment to Chittagong. The opportunity to bring his troop to a proper efficiency was at once welcome, but he knew also that the talk in stable and canteen — and not least in the officers’ mess — would be of ‘being sent away’. However, that would be short-lived tattle, he told himself. And when they returned they would be ready to take their place on the left of the line.

‘Are you able to tell me why you are sent to Chittagong?’ asked Hervey of Eyre Somervile that evening.

‘Of course,’ said Somervile, holding out his glass to be recharged with a very well-chilled champagne. ‘Lord Hastings has asked me to see what can be done with respect to the Burmans and Arakanese who have fled there.’

Hervey thought he detected that Somervile was not altogether enthusiastic. ‘Does that please you?’

Somervile shrugged. ‘Lord Hastings is of the opinion that someone must do it.’

‘Lord Hastings considers Eyre to be his most knowledgeable official,’ added Emma.

Hervey could believe it. Although Emma would be loyal to the end, she was no mere distaff. In Madras, Somervile had been wholly absorbed by the language and manners of the native peoples, as fluent in Tamil as he was in Telinga, which Hervey understood had by no means been the rule in the Company for some years. But Madras and Burma were very distant from each other. ‘Is this Oxford learning again? For you never said you had been in those parts.’

‘Not even Oxford,’ replied Somervile, nodding to the khansamah, whose appearance signalled that dinner was ready. ‘When I came here to Calcutta no one seemed to know anything of the situation in the east, so wholly absorbed were they by the extirpation of the Pindarees. But the outcome of that campaign was wholly foregone, so I began a study of the eastern question, which seems to me indeed to be very grave.’

‘Would you tell me of it?’

Somervile said he would. And long and serpentine would that account be, occupying the five courses of dinner and ending only with the second circulation of the port. Hervey was appalled and thrilled by turns.

When he returned to his quarters — at that time of night but an hour’s drive — he was so animated by what Somervile had told him that he set pen to paper at once.

Fort William

Calcutta

via The Hnble E. India Co.

Leadenhall Street

London

24 June 1820

My dear Dan,

The month since I wrote to you has been of very mixed fortunes, which I shall forbear to relate in any detail since they shall like as not seem petty and inconsequential with the passing of time. It is now so excessively hot here that I feel I am melting away, although I think I recall its being hotter in Madras, and the old Company hands say that it is nothing compared with Dehli, and will in any event get hotter as July proceeds, until the Monsoon restores our comfort, at least for a little while each day. Mourning for the late King has now ended. Although we observed it strictly, all our duties of course continued. There is here a good deal of speculation and general gossip as to what shall now obtain, for, besides the question of Queen Caroline’s position, it is much rumoured here that King George is in a very bad way with Dropsy, and that we shall soon have King Frederick, who would, of course, be exceedingly popular with the Army as well as the Navy. Do write with the County’s opinion, Dan, so far as you can tell it.

My purpose in this letter, however, is to inform you of a further, though temporary, change of station. A few days ago I was instructed by my colonel to accompany Mr Eyre Somervile to the east of the country, abutting the kingdom of Ava, and there to bring my troop to a state of efficiency apart from the distractions of this station — which are too many. You will no doubt recall my telling you of Mr Somervile, and also of his wife, the sister of Philip Lucie, with all of whom I spent such eventful days in Madras. In the three years which have passed since my leaving, it seems the Governor-General, Lord Hastings, has taken the most vigorous and concerted measures to destroy the Pindaree menace, and there is now such peace in the whole land of India as has never before been. This much is certain, that whatever is said at home about the iniquities of the Company’s policy here, the consequence for the meanest ryot, as the peasant farmer is called, is a freedom from the ravages of the bandits to which he has been too long a prey. Everyone says that there should be a peace for a decade or more, in the interior at least. But there are still those who would take advantage from their positions beyond the Company’s borders or its dominions, and one such is the King of Ava, whose brutish regimen has driven very many thousands of the people of that land to seek the protection of the Company in its territory along the coast east of the mouth of the great Ganges. These people in their turn have sometimes carried out raids into the King’s territory, and there has been a deal of resentment on the part of the Avan — or Burman king as some have it — Bagyidaw, a proud as well as cruel man. Lately he has sent letters to the King of Assam and to Lord Hastings demanding that all those who fled from Ava be returned. Lord Hastings is not, of course, minded to comply with such a demand. Mr Somervile is therefore to proceed to Chittagong to see what may be done to stop the raids by the dispossessed Burmans, and to ease generally the discord which obtains there. I have no great wish to be separated from the regiment at this time, but they have their duties in connection with the various treaties which are being concluded with the country powers in the wake of the Pindaree war, and I do not suppose that it will be longer than six months before Mr Somervile’s mission is accomplished, as well as mine, and my troop shall then be able to take its place in the line alongside the others for the season of the winter manoeuvres. The journey is all by sea, but it should be accomplished without trouble since Chittagong is not greatly more than two hundred miles, by coastal water, and we shall have the advantage of two steam-driven vessels to tow the transports if winds are unfavourable, which of course they may well be in this season …

The more he wrote, the fewer were his misgivings about leaving Calcutta. The country about Chittagong sounded ideal for his purpose, and Somervile’s mission would be instructive to observe. He penned a few more paragraphs — soldier’s gossip, of which Daniel Coates never tired — and closed by promising to write from his new