He cursed, saw a corporal, gave him the same instruction, and at once the gates were pushed shut.
Up came the serjeant-major again. 'Set them shakos straight!' he bellowed at two men on the parapet.
Hervey could hear Armstrong in that command. It was remarkable how quickly a wound began healing in a regiment: that need to carry on, the notion of next-for-duty, and all. Where was the lieutenant?
Lieutenant Napier had given chase. He now returned with a look of thunder. He saw Hervey and shook his head. 'They've bolted, damn them. They beat us to the jungle by a minute, no more, but it's so thick-' 'I'm afraid Captain Birch is killed,' said Hervey.
Napier's thunder was stilled. He had already seen the ensign's death with his own eyes. He looked about the stockade and saw redcoats lying wounded; he knew there were more outside. 'How many, Sar'nt-major?' 'We can muster fifty sir, thereabout.'
That was a lot for the surgeon, or for the chaplain to say words over; a heavy butcher's bill indeed. The lieutenant set his teeth. 'See if we can torch this place, Sar'nt-major. Then we get our wounded back to the boats, and the dead too, and then press on for Kemmendine.' He checked himself, turning to Hervey. 'If you approve, sir.' 'Carry on, Mr Napier,' said Hervey grimly. The lieutenant nodded.
The serjeant-major saluted. 'Serjeant Craggs, bearers! Serjeant Walker, find everything you can that will light – Burmans included!'
Hervey took the lieutenant to one side. 'Do you judge that you will be in a position to take Kemmendine?' he asked, the doubt more than apparent in his voice.
The lieutenant looked as if the question had never crossed his mind. 'Those are our orders, sir.'
'But I asked you if you considered that you had the strength to execute them.'
Still the lieutenant was incomprehending. 'The Thirty-eighth do not balk at trials, sir, however great.'
Hervey was becoming irritated. 'I do not doubt it. But to expend more life in a hopeless venture is base. More than that, however, it would be hazardous for the expedition as a whole. If you fail to take Kemmendine then the enemy will be emboldened. The essential thing while we stand on the defensive at Rangoon is not to have a setback in combat with them.'
'That is as may be, sir, but the Thirty-eighth were given orders to-'
'And I am now giving you an order to remain here until the rest of your battalion arrives!'
The lieutenant visibly braced himself. 'Very well, sir, but I must ask for the order in writing.'
'You may have it in any form you wish, Mr Napier. But I counsel you not to protest too much in front of your troops. They have fought bravely and it is no dishonour to them that they retire now.'
Corporal Wainwright listened intently to the exchange. He had seen his captain, sword in hand, display enough courage for a dozen men; yet countermanding a general's orders must require a different courage from the everyday kind. He wondered at it, took careful note, and hoped fervently that his captain was right as well as brave.
CHAPTER FOUR
Two days later Hervey picked up a pencil. Pen and ink was no good. The paper was damp and the ink spread, so that even his carefully formed letters became indistinct in a matter of seconds. Damp paper, damp powder, damp biscuit – mouldy, even – on which they now subsisted, damp leather inside which men's feet chafed, the sores then suppurating: it was as inauspicious a beginning to a campaign as ever he had known. Indeed, it was more than inauspicious: it was ignominy in the making. Four hundred miles still to their object – Ava – and here they struggled through the delta's mud to attack stockades with only bayonets and the breasts of brave men. Hervey was ashamed, and not a little angry. Rangoon, 17 May 1824 My dear Somervile, I am very afraid that your strictures regarding the assumptions on which this war is prosecuted appear already to have been most sadly prescient. We made a landing here but one week ago against opposition unworthy of mention, but the populace has not risen in our support. Indeed, the native people are nowhere to be seen, and with them, we may suppose, are all the provisions and transport upon which the supply of the army was to be found. There are some cattle hereabout, but the order that they be unmolested remains, and therefore our soldiers starve that the sacred cows might live. The rains have come – in such torrents as I could scarce describe – and the river is now swollen in the manner required, but Peto's flotilla is unable to make progress until the supply is ordered and the gun forts all about – of which nothing was known hitherto – are reduced.
Two days ago I attended the Grenadier Company of the 38th, which is Campbell's own regiment, in two most gallant attacks upon stockades upstream of here. Their Captain was killed, and the ensign too, and they lost one in three of the Company, but they were all for assaulting a third and stronger fort until I ordered them to await reinforcement by the battalion companies, which, in the event, did not show because of some alarm here. The fighting spirit of the men is admirable, but I have a fear that it will be frittered away in ill conceived assaults – the Company had not even ladders for the escalade – and, perhaps the more so, by sickness, which is already rife.
Major Seagrass is dead of a fever, and I am thereby now General Campbell's military secretary. There is little for me to do, however, and yesterday when I gave my opinion of the parlous state into which we were lapsing (my cause was in respect of the mounting sick lists), Campbell became so angered that I am still unaware if it were on account of his despair at our situation or with my candour, though in this connection I must say that I do not believe he has a true grasp of our peril. I see none of the energy for which he had reputation in Spain, nor any faithful imagination of the scale of the undertaking. I pray most fervently that I am wrong in this assessment, but… There was the sound of spurs outside and then a knock. The door opened and into Hervey's quarters stepped one of General Campbell's ADCs, well-scrubbed, hat under arm and sword hitched high on his belt. 'Sir, the general would speak with you; at once, if you please, sir.'
'Very well,' said Hervey, rising. 'Do you know in what connection?' 'I am afraid I do not, sir. The general has spent much of the morning in conference with his brigadiers.'
Hervey placed the letter to Somervile in the pocket of his writing case, gathered up his sword and shako, and left his quarters certain that he was to hear another paragraph of sorry testimony for inclusion in the letter.
The general's door was open. Hervey knocked and stood to attention. 'Come in, Captain Hervey; come in.'
General Campbell looked tired. Or was it worry? Hervey had received no word from him after handing the quartermaster-general a report on the Thirty-eighth's endeavours. He was unsure even if he had read it, for there had been nothing but routine orders from Campbell's office in days. Neither had there been any sort of conference; Peto had fumed about it when they had dined together the evening before. 'Good morning, General,' said Hervey, a shade warily. 'Sit down, sit down.'
It was curious, thought Hervey, how the general repeated his bidding. He did it not infrequently, of late especially. Was it a mere affliction of the nerves, like blinking or twitching, or did it reveal an uncertainty? Since the general could not doubt that any order would be obeyed, it could only be that he tried to overcome his reluctance to give the order by repeating it for his own hearing. Yet in such small matters as entering a room and taking a chair, what could there be by way of difficulty? Except, perhaps, that the general intended saying something disagreeable.
Surely not? Surely a major-general would not rebuke a captain direct when there were others to whom he might so easily delegate the unpleasant task. Hervey took off his shako and sat in a rush-seat chair in front of the general's writing table.
'I did not say that I approved of your conduct the other day – on the river, I mean.'
Hervey was perplexed. The fact was indisputable, but the words suggested one thing and the manner of their delivery another. Was this a statement of disapproval or not? The general did indeed seem weary. 'No, sir.'
'I did approve, most decidedly. We can have no frittering-away of our troops, especially not our best ones. We shall need every man.'
Hervey nodded. He would once have said 'Thank you' to a sign of approval, but now he saw no occasion for thanks.
'I have intelligence that Kemmendine shall be the base from which the Burmans will launch their attacks on us. It is in all likelihood in a strong state of fortification already.'
