Part 54 (1/2)

It was determined that the a.s.sault should not be made until one o'clock, at which time Tippoo's troops, antic.i.p.ating no attack, would be taking their food, and resting during the heat of the day. The troops who were to make the a.s.sault were divided into two columns which, after mounting the breach, were to turn right and left, fighting their way along the ramparts until they met at the other end.

A powerful reserve, under Colonel Wellesley, was to support them after they had entered.

When the signal was given, the troops leapt from the trenches and, covered by the fire of the artillery, which at the same moment opened on the ramparts, dashed across the river, scaled the breach, and, in six minutes from the firing of the signal gun, planted the British flag on its crest.

Then the heads of the two columns at once started to fight their way along the ramparts. At first the resistance was slight. Surprised and panic stricken, the defenders of the strong works at this point offered but a feeble resistance. Some fled along the walls. Some ran down into the fort. Many threw themselves over the wall into the rocky bed of the river. The right column, in less than an hour, had won its way along the rampart to the eastern face of the fort; but the left column met with a desperate resistance, for as each point was carried, the enemy, constantly reinforced, made a fresh stand. Most of the officers who led the column were shot down, and so heavy was the fire that, several times, the advance was brought to a standstill.

It was not until the right column, making their way along the wall to the a.s.sistance of their comrades, took them in the rear, that the Mysoreans entirely lost heart. Taken between two fires, they speedily became a disorganised ma.s.s. Many hundreds were shot down, either in the fort or as, pouring out through the river gate, they endeavoured to cross the ford and escape to the north.

As soon as the whole rampart was captured, General Baird sent an officer with a flag of truce to the Palace, to offer protection to Tippoo and all its inmates, on condition of immediate surrender. Two of Tippoo's younger sons a.s.sured the officer that the Sultan was not in the Palace. The a.s.surance was disbelieved, and, the princes being sent to the camp under a strong escort, the Palace was searched. The officer in command, on being strictly questioned, declared that Tippoo, who had in person commanded the defence made against the left column, had been wounded, and that he had heard he was lying in a gateway on the north side of the fort.

A search was immediately made, and the information proved correct.

Tippoo was found lying there, not only wounded, but dead. He had indeed received several wounds, and was endeavouring to escape in his palanquin, when this had been upset by the rush of fugitives striving to make their way through the gate.

The gateway was, indeed, almost choked up with the bodies of those who had been either suffocated in the crush, or killed by their pursuers.

On his palanquin being overturned, Tippoo had evidently risen to his feet, and had at the same moment been shot through the head by an English soldier, ignorant of his rank. In the evening he was buried with much state, by the side of his father, in the mausoleum of Lal Bang, at the eastern extremity of the island.

It was with great difficulty that, when the British soldiers became aware of the ma.s.sacre of their countrymen, a few days before, they were restrained from taking vengeance upon his sons and the inmates of the Palace. In the a.s.sault, 8000 of the defenders were killed; while the loss of the British, during the siege and in the a.s.sault, amounted to 825 Europeans and 639 native troops. An enormous quant.i.ty of cannon, arms, and ammunition was captured, and the value of the treasure and jewels amounted to considerably over a million pounds, besides the doubtless large amount of jewels that had, in the first confusion, fallen into the hands of the soldiers.

As d.i.c.k, after the fighting had ceased, went, by order of the General, to examine the prisoners and ascertain their rank, his eye fell upon an old officer, whose arm hung useless by his side, broken by a musket ball. He went up to him, and held out his hand.

”Mirzah Mahomed Buckshy!” he exclaimed. ”I am glad to meet you again, although sorry to see that you are wounded.”

The officer looked at him, in surprise.

”You have spoken my name,” he said, ”but I do not know that we have ever met before.”

”We have met twice. The first time I was, with a friend, dressed as one of Tippoo's officers, and came to examine the state of Savandroog.

The second time we were dressed as merchants, and I succeeded in effecting the liberation of my father. Both times I received much kindness at your hands. But far more grateful am I to you for your goodness to my father, whose life you preserved.

”I see you still carry the pistols I left for you, and doubtless you also received the letter I placed with them.”

”Thanks be to Allah,” the old colonel said, ”that we have thus met again! Truly I rejoiced, when my first anger that I had been fooled pa.s.sed away, that your father had escaped, and that without my being able to blame myself for carelessness. Your letter to me completed my satisfaction, for I felt that Heaven had rightly rewarded the efforts of a son who had done so much, and risked his life for a father.

”Is he alive? Is he here? I should be glad to see him again; and indeed, I missed him sorely. I have been here for two years, having been appointed to a command among the troops here.”

”My father is well, and is in England. He will, I know, be glad indeed to hear that I have met you, for he will ever retain a grateful remembrance of your kindness. Now I must finish my work here, and will then go to the general, and beg him to give me an order for your release.”

An hour later d.i.c.k returned with the order, and carried Mahomed Buckshy off to the Rajah's camp. Here his arm was set by one of the surgeons, and he was so well cared for by the Rajah, d.i.c.k, and Surajah, that a fortnight later he was convalescent, and was able to join his wife in the town.

”I am thankful,” he said, on leaving, ”that my life as a soldier is over, and that I shall never more have to fight against the English.

Tippoo was my master, but it is he who, by his cruelty and ambition, has brought ruin upon Mysore. I have saved enough to live in comfort for the rest of my life, and to its end I shall rejoice that I have again met the son of my friend Jack.”

The capture of Seringapatam was followed, at once, by the entire submission of the whole country. A descendant of the old Rajah of Mysore was placed upon the throne. His rule was, however, but a nominal one. A very large amount of territory was annexed. The island of Seringapatam was permanently occupied as a British possession. The new rajah was bound to receive, and pay, a large military force for the defence of his territories; not to admit any European foreigners into his dominions; to allow the Company to garrison any fort in Mysore that might seem advisable to them; and to pay, at all times, attention to such advice as might be given him as to the administration of his affairs. He was, in fact, to be but a puppet, the British becoming the absolute rulers of Mysore.

The family of Tippoo, and the ladies of the harem, were removed to Vellore, where they were to receive a palace suitable to their former rank and expectations, and allowances amounting to 160,000 pounds a year.

Thus Mysore, one of the most ancient and powerful of the kingdoms of India, fell into the hands of the English, owing to the ambition, bigotry, and besotted cruelty of the son of a usurper.