“So I see.” Wellesley glanced ahead. The fort seethed with jubilant
redcoats and he knew it would take till nightfall to restore order.
“You should see a surgeon, Mister Sharpe. I fear you’re going to carry
a scar on your face.” He remembered the telescope, but decided he
would give it to Sharpe later and so, with a curt nod, he rode on.
Sharpe stood and watched the 74th march in. They had not wanted him,
because he was not a gentleman. But, by God, he was a soldier, and he
had opened the fort for them. He caught Urquhart’s eye, and Urquhart
looked at the blood on Sharpe’s face and at the crusting scabs on
Sharpe’s sword, then looked away.
“Good afternoon, Urquhart,” Sharpe said loudly.
Urquhart spurred his horse.
“Good afternoon, Sergeant Colquhoun,” Sharpe said.
Colquhoun marched doggedly on.
Sharpe smiled. He had proved whatever he had set out to prove, and
what was that? That he was a soldier, but he had always known that. He
was a soldier, and he would stay a soldier, and if that meant wearing a
green jacket instead of a red, then so be it. But he was a soldier,
and he had proved it in the heat and blood of Gawilghur. It was the
fastness in the sky, the stronghold that could not fall, and now it was
Sharpe’s fortress.
Historical Note I have done the 94th, sometimes known as the Scotch
Brigade, and their Light Company which was led by Captain Campbell, a
great disservice, for it was they, and not Sharpe, who found the route
up the side of the ravine and then across the Inner Fort’s wall at
Gawil-ghur, and who then assailed the gatehouse from the inside and, by
opening the succession of gates, allowed the rest of the attacking
force into the fortress. Fictional heroes steal other men’s thunder,
and I trust the Scots will forgive Sharpe. The Captain Campbell whose
initiative broke Gawilghur’s defence was not the same Campbell who was
one of Wellesley’s aides (and who had been the hero at Ahmednuggur).
The 33rd’s Light Company was not at Gawilghur; indeed the only British
infantry there were Scottish regiments, the same Scotsmen who shocked
Scindia’s army into rout at Assaye and took the brunt of the Arab
attack at Argaum. Wellesley’s war against the Mahrattas, which ended
in complete victory at Gawilghur, was thus won by Madrassi sepoys and
Scottish Highlanders, and it was an extraordinary victory.
The battle of Assaye, described in Sharpe’s Triumph, was the engagement
which destroyed the cohesion of the Mahratta Confederation. Scindia,
the most powerful of the princes, was so shocked by the defeat that he
sued for peace, while the Rajah of Berar’s troops, deserted by their
allies, fought on. Undoubtedly their best strategy would have been an
immediate retreat to Gawilghur, but Manu Bappoo must have decided that
he could stop the British and so decided to make his stand at Argaum.
The battle happened much as described in this novel; it began with an
apparent Mahratta advantage when the sepoys on the right of Wellesley’s
line panicked, but the General calmed them, brought them back, then
launched his line to victory. The Scots, just as they had been at
Assaye, were his shock troops, and they destroyed the Arab regiment
that was the best of Bappoo’s infantry. There were no Cobras in
Bappoo’s army, and though William Dodd existed, and was a renegade
fugitive from the East India Company army, there is no record of his
having served Berar. The survivors of Argaum retreated north to
Gawilghur.
Gawilghur is still a mightily impressive fortress, sprawling over its
vast headland high above the Deccan Plain. It is deserted now, and was
never again to be used as a stronghold after the storming on 15
December 1803. The fort was returned to the Mahrattas after they made
peace with the British, and they never repaired the breaches which are
still there, and, though much overgrown, capable of being climbed. No
such breaches remain in Europe, and it was instructive to discover just
how steep they are, and how difficult to negotiate, even unencumbered
by a musket or sword. The great iron gun which killed five of the