By dusk, the fires had been put out, a curfew had been established on the streets and the city was firmly under the control of the acting Governor. The last remnants of Baird’s assault force had been turned out of the city, some bearing the red stripes of a recent flogging, and four red-coated bodies hung from a gibbet over the Mysore gate. The next day, Arthur turned his attention to another pressing issue: the disposal of the corpses that littered the streets and walls of Seringapatam. They had already been exposed to the heat of the Indian sun for nearly two days and the stench of putrefaction filled the still air. Hundreds of the prisoners were ordered to dig mass graves on the eastern end of the island and for five days carts and wagons loaded with bodies trundled out of the city and deposited their grisly burdens into the pits. Over nine thousand of the enemy had been killed in the assault, dwarfing the British losses of little more than three hundred dead.

Tipoo was spared the indignity of a mass grave and granted full honours of war the day that Arthur took control of the city. He organised the burial rites in person.Tipoo’s sons, his surviving ministers and officers from his army were permitted to attend and followed the gun carriage bearing his body to the pyre in a corner of the grounds of the Dowlut Baugh as dark clouds thickened overhead. An honour guard of men from the 33rd lifted the body on to the carefully built layers of wood, decorated with flowers and ornately patterned shrouds. Then, as the first flames licked up around the body, the guns on the city wall boomed out one by one in a solemn salute to the fallen ruler. As his followers wept, rain began to fall, accompanied by jabs of forked lightning that stabbed down from the heavens in blinding daggers of dazzling light.

More than one man had fallen, Arthur reflected as he watched the smoke swirling up into the sky, where it was quickly lost against the heavy black clouds hanging overhead. Tipoo would be the last of his line to rule Mysore. His sons were to be sent into exile in Vellore and the throne of Mysore was to be restored to its original line of Hindu rajas, the sole survivor being a five-year-old boy. Since Krishna Wodeyar was too young to rule in his own right, a regent needed to be found. Another problem that vexed Arthur, since the man in question must have the respect of the native population, as well as the trust of the British.

Two weeks after the fall of the city Henry arrived with a small entourage of officials. He had been sent to report on the situation as soon as Richard had received news from General Harris that Seringapatam had fallen. As he dismounted Henry cast an appreciative eye over the Dowlut Baugh.