Kirkpatrick was squatting next to him and chewing the end of his thumb as he kept glancing towards the nearest gateway into the camp. ‘They should be here by now. What’s keeping them, damn it?’
Arthur glanced round and saw that one of the sepoys was looking at them. He turned back to gaze over the camp and muttered, ‘Keep your voice down. What kind of effect do you think your fretting will have on the men?’
Kirkpatrick started guiltily. ‘Sorry, sir.’
‘I understand you are nervous.’ Arthur smiled. ‘So am I. The trick is not to let it show. Think on that and you’ll be fine.’
‘Yes, sir . . . Thank you.’
They were interrupted by a chorus of shouts from over by the barracks. Arthur squinted his tired eyes and saw a group of men running from the direction of the headquarters building, shouting and gesticulating wildly as they ran. The Nizam’s soldiers hurried back into their quarters and began to emerge with their weapons to join the growing crowd.
‘They’re headed this way,’ Arthur said quietly. ‘Damn . . . All right, then, Kirkpatrick. The time for stealth is over. Call those two sentries in and close and barricade the doors and windows of the arsenal. We may have to hold them off for a while before the other columns turn up.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Kirkpatrick hurried away to carry out his orders and a moment later Arthur heard the heavy timber door thud home below him. The sepoys who had been hidden below came padding up on to the ramparts and took up position, muskets loaded and ready at half-cock. There was a roar from the crowd as they saw the arsenal being closed up, and then scores of heads appearing at the battlements. The mob surged forward and started battering at the door with their muskets, to no effect. One of Arthur’s men rose up and took aim with his weapon.
‘Lower your gun!’ Arthur bellowed at him in Hindoostani. ‘Now!’
When the man had dropped down again Arthur stood up so that all his men could see him and drew a deep breath so that he would be heard over the din of the crowd.‘We’re safe enough here.They have no powder or shot for their weapons.They can’t hurt us, so hold your fire.’
That was not entirely true, he reflected. That mob would do more than hurt Arthur and his men if they found a way into the arsenal. But it was a solid enough building and would keep the Nizam’s men at bay for a while yet. Long enough for the other columns to arrive.
Then he saw some of the men at the rear of the crowd take up a solid-looking water trough. They emptied the water out of it, then lifted it up and bore it through the crowd towards the arsenal. A makeshift battering ram, he realised with a sick feeling. He must not let them have a chance to use it against the doors.
‘Stand up!’ Arthur shouted to his men. ‘Present!’
The muskets swung up and levelled as the sepoys took aim on the mob. At once there were cries of terror and men flinched and fell back. Arthur leaned over the ramparts and stretched his arms open.
‘Hear me! Hear me, I say!’
It took a while for the frightened protesters to grow silent, and still scores of them were slipping back into the heart of the crowd.
‘I am Colonel Wellesley. I am here on the authority of the Nizam. He has given orders for the disbandment of the French-officered battalions.You will lay down your weapons and return to barracks now!’
This provoked a fresh outburst of rage from the crowd and the makeshift battering ram surged forward again. Arthur turned to the section of men covering the rampart over the entrance. ‘Take aim on those men carrying the water trough!’
The muskets went up to their cheeks as the men squinted down the barrels towards the approaching crowd.
‘Cock your weapons, but do not fire unless I give the order!’
The sepoys thumbed back the cocks, ready to fire a volley of heavy lead balls into the crowd in front of the arsenal. The ram came on, and there was a jarring thud as it struck home against the wall.
‘Shoot over their heads!’ Arthur called to the nearest men and they raised their barrels.‘Fire!’The volley roared out with a series of stabs of fire and a small rolling bank of gunpowder smoke.The crowd paused for only an instant before they realised the shots had been fired wide deliberately. Then they came forward again and there was another thud from below. Arthur swallowed. The time had almost come when he would have to open fire on the crowd in order to survive.
‘Reload, and prepare volley fire!’
As his men bit off the ends of the tallow paper cartridges and spat the ball down the muzzles of their muskets a sudden movement drew Arthur’s eye to the main gateway into the camp. A column of men was emerging through it, the colours of the East India Company at their head. At once he was giddy with relief.‘They’re coming!’ He thrust his arm out in the direction of the new arrivals. ‘They’re here!’
His men raised a cheer now, and down below as word of the relief column flew through the crowd they turned away from the arsenal and clutched their unloaded weapons restlessly, making little sound as they faced the new threat.
There was another shout from the men on the ramparts and Arthur saw a sepoy excitedly pointing to another column emerging between the barracks of the Nizam’s army. Arthur indulged the sepoys for a moment before he ordered them to still their tongues. A silence hung over the camp as Arthur turned to the crowd.
‘Lay down your weapons and return to your quarters.’
‘What? And let you slaughter us like dogs!’A voice cried back.
‘No! There will be no killing. Lay down your arms and get back to your quarters, now. If not, you will be fired on.’
One of the men tried to defy him, standing on an upturned washing tub to harangue his comrades. It was clear from the crowd’s reaction that they would be easily stirred into action by their speaker and Arthur realised that now was the time for ruthlessness.
‘Take aim. Prepare to fire . . . on my word . . .’ He leaned forward to address the crowd again.‘This is your last warning. Lay down your weapons and return to the barracks or you will be shot down!’
For a moment none of them reacted and Arthur was aware that the other columns had entered the camp and were already forming a firing line.Then one of the Nizam’s men on the fringe of the crowd lowered his weapon to the ground and hurried away. Another man followed his lead, then another, until the edges of the crowd were melting away and then those at the heart of mob also began to surrender their weapons, leaving their provocatory leader alone on his tub, still imploring them to come back and take the arsenal. Eventually, he too gave up, shoulders slumping as he climbed down from the upended tub and beat a retreat back to the barracks. Arthur watched him go, and saw that the others were gathering up their comrades, the women and the children and disappearing into the barrack blocks. Soon there was little sign of life around the camp and wisps of steam and smoke from the fires lifted lazily into the morning air. Arthur felt the tension of the last few moments drain from his body to be replaced by a blessed sense of relief that the crisis had passed and he had won the day, without any bloodshed. He idly hoped that all his victories could be as bloodless as this, then cursed himself for being such a naïve fool.
The plan had been good, and carried out to the letter. All that remained was to carry out the terms of the treaty the Nizam had signed.
The column that had entered by the main gate was led by Colonel Malcolm, who doffed his hat to Arthur as he approached the arsenal and called out, ‘Good day to you, sir!’
Arthur nodded. ‘And to you.’
‘Bloody fine piece of work.’ Malcolm laughed as he surveyed the abandoned muskets carpeting the ground in front of the arsenal. ‘We’ve done it! Just wait till word of this gets back to Calcutta! Fine work, sir! Fine work.’
Arthur stretched his back and smiled to himself. He could already imagine Richard’s delight at hearing that the plan had gone so smoothly. The French officers would be ousted, the Nizam would be in the debt of England and, best of all, not one life had been lost in achieving this result. For that, Arthur felt his heart swell with pride as he gazed out across the camp and let the warm rays of the rising sun wash over his face.