God only knows what’ll be waiting on the other side. Nothing good, I dare say.’
‘But we can breach this outer wall quickly enough?’ Harris asked, tapping the place on his map.
‘Aye, sir. It’s mostly mud again, but it’s older so the centre will be drier. Once we break through the crust the thing should fall apart in hours.’
Harris stared down at the map, unconsciously scratching beneath his wig. ‘Ladders,’ he said after a long pause.
Baird looked alarmed. ‘You’re not thinking of an escalade, God save us?’
‘We’ve no timber!’ Gent protested.
“Bamboo scaling ladders,’ Harris said, ‘just a few.’ He smiled as he leaned back in his chair. ‘Make me a breach, Colonel Gent, and forget the inner wall. We’ll assault the breach, but we won’t go through it. Instead we’ll attack the shoulders of the breach. We’ll use ladders to climb off the breach onto the walls, then attack round the ramparts. Once those outer walls are ours, the beggars will have to surrender.’
There was silence in the tent as the diree officers considered Harris’s suggestion. Colonel Gent tried to clean his spectacle lenses with a corner of his sash. ‘You’d better pray our fellows get up on the walls damned fast, sir.’ Gent broke the silence. “You’ll be sending whole battalions across the river, General, and the lads behind will be pushing the fellows in front, and if there’s any delay they’ll spill into the space between the walls like water seeking its level. And God knows what’s in between those walls. A flooded ditch? Mines? But even if there’s nothing there, the poor fellows will still be trapped between two fires.’
‘Two Forlorn Hopes,’ Harris said, thinking aloud and ignoring Gent’s gloomy comments, ‘instead of one. They both attack two or three minutes ahead of the main assault. Their orders will be to climb off the breach and onto the walls. One Hope turns north along the outer ramparts, the other
south. That way they don’t need to go between the walls.’
‘It’ll be a desperate business,’ Gent said flatly.
‘Assaults always are,’ Baird said stoutly. ‘That’s why we employ Forlorn Hopes.’ The Forlorn Hope was the small band of volunteers who went first into a breach to trigger the enemy’s surprises. Casualties were invariably heavy, though there was never a shortage of volunteers. This time, though, it did promise to be desperate, for the two Forlorn Hopes were not being asked to fight through the breach, but rather to turn towards the walls either side of the breach and fight their way up onto the ramparts. ‘You can’t take a city without shedding blood,’ Baird went on, then stiffened in his chair. ‘And once again, sir, I request permission to lead the main assault.’
Harris smiled. ‘Granted, David.’ He spoke gently, using Baird’s Christian name for the first time. ‘And God be with you.’
‘God be with the damned Tippoo,’ Baird said, hiding his delight. ‘He’s the one who’ll need the help. I thank you, sir. You do me honour.’
Or I send you to your death, Harris thought, but kept the sentiment silent. He rolled up the city map. ‘Speed, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘speed. The rains will come soon enough, so let’s get this business done.’
The troops went on digging, zigzagging their way across the fertile fields between the aqueduct and the south branch of the Cauvery. A second British army, six and a half thousand men from Cannanore on India’s western Malabar coast, arrived to swell the besiegers’ ranks. The newcomers camped north of the Cauvery and placed gun batteries that could sweep the approach to the proposed breach so that the city, with its thirty thousand defenders, was now besieged by fifty-seven thousand men, half of whom marched under British colours and half under the banners of Hyderabad. Six thousand of the British troops were actually British, the rest were
sepoys, and behind all the troops, in the sprawling encampments, more than a hundred thousand hungry civilians waited to plunder the supplies rumoured to be inside Seringapatam.
Harris had men enough for the siege and assault, but not enough to ring the city entirely and so the Tippoo’s cavalry made daily sallies from the unguarded eastern side of the island to attack the foraging parties who ranged deep into the country in search of timber and food. The Nizam of Hyderabad’s horsemen fought off the daily attacks. The Nizam was a Muslim, but he had no love for his coreligionist, the Tippoo, and the men of Hyderabad’s army fought fiercely. One horseman came back to the camp with the heads of six enemies tied by their long hair to his lance. He held the bloody trophies aloft and galloped proudly along the tent lines to the cheers of the sepoys and redcoats. Harris sent the man a purse of guineas, while Meer Allum, the commander of the Nizam’s forces, more practically ordered a concubine to express his gratitude.