Chapter 11: A Good Egg

“Do I have the honour of addressing Colonel Sir Elijah Greenaway?”

I sat up and regarded my interlocutor, a young man in the uniform of John Company’s army.

“Yes, I am he, and whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

The fellow gave a precise salute. “Lieutenant Lorne LePater, Second Company of the Seventh Regiment of Madras Native Infantry, at your service, Colonel. My commanding officer, Captain Shaun Skeay, has instructed me to escort you and Lady Greenaway to company headquarters at Thrissur.” He indicated a file of Indian soldiers, sepoys, standing alongside a bullock cart.

I pointed to my and Mimi’s trunks. “Get our dunnage stowed aboard and we will be right with you.” During this exchange Mimi had been regarding the young man with interest. As the lieutenant strode off, shouting orders to his men in Tamil, or it might have been Malayalam, she smiled at me.

“What a very pleasant young man, Jacques. I hope the rest of the officers of his regiment are as handsome and engaging as he is. I must have him sit for me when he can spare the time.”

Mimi had spent the previous day putting the final touches to the portrait she presented to the Maharani of Kerala. I know I could be accused of bias but Mimi has a gift for art, and the portrait, the first she had completed in oil, was magnificent. The subject was a very attractive female, dressed in a vivid emerald green sari trimmed with silver brocade. Sara was a woman in her prime with a pleasantly rounded face, full red lips, dark brown eyes, and shining raven black hair. Her bosom tented the silk sari, indicating ample firm flesh beneath. Her gaze was serene and there was an enigmatic smile on her face that reminded me of a portrait I had seen in Paris, the title of which escapes me. She exuded sensuality, highlighted by the kohl about her eyes and the red paint on her fingernails and toenails. Mimi had caught a hint of vulnerability about her, which was unexpected as Sara was the de facto ruler of Kerala. She was a female I would have liked to meet in the flesh. I quickly banished a lewd thought from my mind, and replied to Mimi.

“I am sure the lieutenant will be only too pleased to sit for you, Mimi. You have already enslaved the poor lad.”

“I only require one slave, Jacques my love, and we both know who that is,”

We shared a quick embrace and a kiss, and I heard Lieutenant LePater clear his throat before he spoke.

“We are ready to move off, Colonel.”

I dare say he was slightly embarrassed, as it is not considered pukka for Europeans to show affection for one another in public. Mimi climbed into the bullock cart but I chose to march alongside Lieutenant LePater and his men.

I was soon impressed by his professionalism, and how competently he handled his men. I doubt Lorne LePater was much over eighteen years of age but he spoke the sepoys‘ language, whatever it was, fluently and it was clear they respected and admired their young officer.

“How long have you been with the regiment?” I asked him. His reply, ‘a little over six months’ astonished me. “You must have picked up the local language very quickly, and you handle your men as if you had command of them for many years.”

Lieutenant LePater flushed in embarrassment or pride, or maybe a mixture of both.

“I take that as a great compliment, Colonel. I admit I find the men easy to command, probably because I am fluent in their language, which is Malayalam. I was born here in India, at Bangalore. My ayah taught me Kannada, our butler taught me Malayalam, the punkawallah taught me Tamil and the dhobiwallah taught me Telegu. My father and mother taught me English and Hindustani!”

“Did you attend Addiscombe?”

“Yes, I travelled to Blighty when I was fifteen years old, and spent two years there. I was excused the Indian language lessons, allowing me more time to learn military skills.”

“So what skills do you employ to thwart attacks by Thugs? Do you patrol the roads, or hunt for hidden encampments in the surrounding jungle?”

“Neither, Colonel. Thugs conceal themselves among bona fide travellers – the word ‘thug ‘comes from a Sanskrit word that means ‘deceiver. ‘They attach themselves to a group of travellers in an array of a disguises. Often they purport to be guards hired by a merchant to look after his goods. Of course, the ‘merchant’ is also a thug. Thugs strike at night when encamped with the group of travellers they have infiltrated. My platoon, and the others in my company, man checkpoints at the junction of several tracks, intercept, and question parties of travellers. The leader of the group will know from where his fellow travellers joined the group. A man who cannot be accounted for, that is prove from which village or town he started from, are searched for the linen noose – the rumal – thugs use to kill their victims. The rumal is worn knotted about the waist of each member of a Thuggee gang.”

“Have you captured any thugs?”

“No sir, not as yet. Captain Skeay thinks the fact we have troops deployed will have scared off the thugs. There have been no reports of attacks, other than the one that caused our regiment to be deployed to the area in the first place.”

On reaching Thrissur I learned more of the tactics used to combat the thugs from Captain Shaun Skeay, the Officer Commanding Number Two Company of the Seventh Madras Native Infantry. Captain Skeay, whose Irish accent was not unlike that of Callum Keane, placed a map on the table of his office.

“As you see, Colonel, Thrissur is the junction of many roads.” He gave a snort of a laugh, “although most are no better than game trails, and even the so called main road between here and Alatthur is a cart track. I have placed my platoons to cover all avenues of approach to the village. They check the validity of the travellers; stamp a paper that the head of the group takes onto the next checkpoint, which in this case will be Panacherry a few miles south of Alathur. Several roads meet at Alathur, and groups of travellers using these roads will join the party on the ‘main’ road. By the time the augmented party of travellers reaches Palakkad it may be over two score strong. The size of the groups passing through Thrissur number a dozen at the most.”

“Who are these travellers, and are where are they bound?”

“Merchants mainly, but also many pilgrims. There are so many gods and goddesses in the Hindu religion there is always a festival day to celebrate one or another of the deities at a temple dedicated to him or her. Many temples are located in the Western Ghats, the mountain range between Palakkad and Coimbatore. The latter is a large town, and it is where most of the traders and merchants who travel these roads are bound for, not that any have passed through Thrissur since my company have been in place.”

“Lieutenant LePater said that the head of each travel group has a document stamped to show all are bona fide travellers. Does that not lead to a multiplicity of documents?”

“Yes it does, but that is how the system is implemented in Calcutta Presidency, and we follow their methods. I think the system was designed to warn off thugs rather than discover any travelling with a bona fide group.”

“Could not the thugs set up a travel group themselves?”

“It is possible, and I imagine there have been instances of it in Calcutta Presidency where Thuggee is rife. There have been some successes against Thugs in that Presidency, although I believe Captain Sleeman, the officer in charge of the operation, also uses informants, besides searching for Thugs hiding in the villages along the major route between Calcutta and Delhi, the Great Trunk Road.” Skeay grinned at me. “You can hardly call the cart track between here and Palakkad a Trunk Road, but we are taking a leaf from Sleeman’s book. Half the companies of the regiment search villages for thugs hiding out before joining a travel group, and the other companies, mine included are manning checkpoints at track junctions. I assume those in charge know what they are doing, but it is boring work and needs good officers to keep the men up to it.”

“You have a first rate lieutenant in young LePater,” I said.

Skeay nodded vigorously.

“I was somewhat wary of letting a very young ‘Griffin’ command a platoon, but Lorne is an excellent officer, and I see him rising high in the Madras Army. His platoon’s previous commander had been posted away in disgrace, and I wondered how the men would take to a newly commissioned officer, after being under the command of a first class officer like Peter Keyt.”

“I know that name! There is a Peter Keyt currently ADC to the East India Company’s agent in Aden...”

“That’s the fellow.”

“You say he left the regiment under a cloud?”

“He was accused of conduct unbecoming, was found guilty at a Court of Inquiry, and got posted to that hell hole of Aden.” Skeay sighed. “I tried to get the decision overturned; it was as plain as day that the girl was lying, but our commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Rafe Sett, assured me Peter would be returning to India when the resident agent in Aden was replaced in a year’s time.”

I could see that Captain Skeay was debating with himself whether to tell me more; the garrulity of the Irish won over discretion. “Peter Keyt and another officer, whom I shall refer to as Captain X as he is a member of this regiment and is well connected politically, were both vying for the affections of Rowena Martin, a young Anglo-Indian girl. She was no more than sixteen years of age, a virgin, and as attractive a female I ever clapped my eyes on, with an almost alabaster complexion. The latter attribute is highly prized amongst her community, and her virginity would go to the man who married her. It is the dearest wish of pale skinned Anglo-Indian girls to snare a John Company man and bear him children that will be accepted as ‘English’.”

“I have met such a child. I never met her mother, and had no idea the girl was of mixed race as she had a skin of perfect alabaster.” Other than where I had given her vivid love bites of course, as it was Lillian Skinner of whom I spoke.

Shaun Skeay nodded. “Yes, it does happen occasionally. Few girls attain that goal, but enough to make it more than a pipe dream. Peter could not marry without permission from his Commanding Officer, and to be honest he did not propose marriage to Rowena but suggested a relationship with her as his mistress, a position most Anglo-Indian girls are content to embrace. However, there are evil men, in all walks of life and of all classes, who delight in debauching innocent young girls. The younger and more innocent the girl the more pleasure the man derives from introducing his victim to the most depraved, disgusting, and degenerate sexual acts imaginable. Once the poor girl is no better than a whore she is cast aside and the man seeks another young girl to degrade. Such a man is Captain X, who had set his sight on adding Rowena to his list of conquests. He had no more intention of marrying the girl than Peter, but as it seemed the girl was favouring Peter over him Captain X proposed marriage. He bought her a ring, and to ensure Peter Keyt was well off the scene, concocted the story that Lieutenant Keyt had ‘acted improperly, forcing his unwanted attentions on Miss Martin, and behaving like a cad and a blackguard’.” Skeay sniffed in distain. “The pot calling the kettle black! Anyway, Lieutenant Keyt was hauled up in front of Colonel Sett at a Court of Inquiry. Rowena confirmed Captain X’s allegation, as she was overjoyed to be affianced to him and did whatever he asked. Peter Keyt was found guilty of conduct unbecoming an officer and banished to Aden.” Shaun Skeay paused moment, a frown on his face. “If the girl had been English he would have faced a Court Martial and if found guilty been dismissed from the Company with ignominy. If the girl had been Indian there would not have been a trial!” He shook his head at the different standards applied to different coloured skins, then continued with his tale. “Captain X took Rowena’s maidenhead the day after the trial, and for the next two months the girl was subjected to the most degenerate of depravity. Eventually Captain X grew bored and looked for fresh flesh to corrupt. Of course, being an officer and a gentleman he would have to honour his promise to marry Rowena, but when she fell pregnant he disclosed he was sterile, and annulled the engagement on account of her ‘adultery’.”