From this period—the end of December 1857 until the 10th of February 1858—our work consisted in sending out detachments to destroy villages and the houses of rebel Rajahs. On one occasion a Sikh discovered 30,000 rupees (belonging to some Rajah) hidden in the wall of a cow-house. Needless to say, this money was handed over to the Government: much to our dissatisfaction, as we rather anticipated having our respective shares doled out to us. Occasionally our camping-ground was changed, so as to keep in touch with our detachments; but otherwise there was no fighting during these six weeks. Whatever rebels there were about did not collect.
Camp life was at that time pleasant enough. The days were pretty warm; the nights actually cold. We amused ourselves shooting snipe in the ghylls of the near neighbourhood, and very often came across wild pea-fowl in the pea-fields or amongthe “growing crops.” The difficulty lay in procuring shot. We improvised a system of melting bullets: standing on a chair in our tent, we dropped molten lead through small pierced pieces of tin into a bucket of cold water. The shot were rather elongated; but they answered the purpose in a way (anyhow as slugs), and we bagged many pea-fowl, also a few snipe, and occasionally duck.
Another recreation was to go pig-sticking after the pariah dog with an improvised spear—generally a long nail secured to a cane of bamboo. We sallied out, a party of six or eight, on our ponies, and rode round the outside of a village in quest of a good, strong-looking dog, which we might find basking in the sun; and if it was not found outside the village, we rode down the “High Street” in search. When found, he got a good prick, and immediately started off, yelling. He was given a bit of law, and off we skedaddled after him. Sometimes the dog would take you clean across country to the next village, and once we had a rare run of five miles. These dogs were more or less wild, and the hunt sounds a bit cruel to relate. I fancy our feelings were hard in camp life—especially during the Mutiny days.
The time had now arrived when we were ordered to the banks of the Gogra river to collect boats to enable us to build a bridge for Jung Bahadour’s army to cross over into Oude, in orderto render assistance to Lord Clyde’s army, then before Lucknow. Jung had 10,000 Ghoorkas with him, and about twenty-four guns. Why he could not do his own work himself I never discovered. I conclude that, he being an ally, the authorities thought we ought to do his dirty work. We made four or five marches to the banks of the river, took a small fort on the way, and encamped near the bank. The Sepoys were collecting in force on the opposite side; and Jung used to amuse himself by firing long shots at them across the river, though they were well out of range. These 10,000 troops seemed quite a large army to us. I rode into their camp, and dined with some English officers whom he had attached to his force.
Getting the boats up to build a bridge took some time, and, of course, it was necessary to take possession of the opposite bank—a task which our field force had to undertake. Accordingly, we were marched off down the river to a spot where, with the assistance of a few boats and temporary rafts, and aided by a steamer, we crossed, unknown to the rebels. I fancy they were awaiting us near Fyzabad, little thinking we could cross lower down. Jung and his army remained where they were, with the exception of about 1000 Ghoorkas whom he sent with us, and a few pieces of artillery. To get to this place of crossing, we had to make a forced march of 32miles. Much fatigued by our long march, we rested until dark, when off we started in silence. Not a pipe was allowed; the wheels of the gun-carriages were muffled; and strict orders were given that no sound should be made.
Crossing the dry bed of a river at night is not an easy matter, and our progress was slow in the extreme. Guns stuck in the sandbanks, and at times the horses came to grief. It was so tedious, and I so done up, that I slipped unconsciously off my pony’s back, and was sound asleep on a sandbank for upwards of an hour. When I awoke my Chief had not ridden on half a mile, and, as luck would have it, had never missed me: when I rejoined him he made no remark. At about 9.30 that evening a detailed force was sent on ahead to attack a stockade on a hill near the spot where we were to arrive after crossing the river. This fort, however, was found deserted, and was soon in a blaze.
Victor A. Montagu
Victor A. Montagu
Once more we bivouacked, and got some rest, though not for long, as at daylight we had to assist in getting our tents and baggage across, which had now arrived on the other bank. This took a considerable part of the morning, and beyond what I had in my holster (the remains of my previous night’s feed) I had nothing to eat. About one o’clock that afternoon, the baggage having arrived, and while we were preparing topitch our camp for at any rate twenty-four hours’ rest, our outlying pickets gave the alarm and we instantly fell in, as about 50 of the enemy’s cavalry came down in our direction to reconnoitre.
Our force that day consisted of 260 Naval Brigade, with four guns, 1500 Ghoorkas, with seven guns, and about 60 Sikhs. After assembling, we proceeded to march in the direction of our bridge of boats higher up. A strong force of Sepoys and rebels had now come down to prevent us from getting to our boats, and to cut us off. By 2.30, in a raging hot sun, we had marched through the village of Phoolpore; and our little battle of that name began directly afterwards.
It was the usual scene: first, a good blaze at each other with artillery, skirmishers to the front. Then a general advance, the enemy falling back and taking up a fresh position; there he stood until we came up close, and then he bolted. There were a good many casualties that day, and a tumbril or two of ours were blown up.
I witnessed a rather curious scene at the beginning of the action. Elephants, as usual, dragged our spare ammunition for the guns and men—as bullocks were slow and could not keep up—though directly we came within manœuvring distance the elephants had to be sent to the rear;and ammunition was placed in hackeries drawn by bullocks. On that day, from accident or otherwise, the ammunition was not changed soon enough, for a long shot from the rebel battery came bounding among some of the elephants. It was the work of an instant. Up went their trunks, off their trumpets, and away they fled as hard as they could to the rear. It was an absurd sight. Nothing on earth could stop them: a mahout told me he could hardly keep his seat.
We killed a good many mutineers that afternoon. We chased them till near dark (6P.M.); and, what with the forced march of the previous day and the night crossing (to say nothing of having been under fire from 2 till 6P.M.), our force was completely exhausted. Worn out with fatigue and hunger, we were soon sound asleep. I pitied the poor chaps who had to go out on picket after those thirty-six hours of incessant hard work.
Two or three of us that evening, while pitching our tents, suddenly discovered in the dark a white mass lying near our tent pole. We had just got the pole up when one of the party trod on this white mass, which turned out to be an unfortunate wounded Sepoy, his leg broken, either by a shot or by a piece of shell—and two parts dead, though, poor wretch, he could call out for mercy and close his hands in token of salaam. Well, all I can say is, we did what we could forhim, got the surgeon to dress him, and put some of our clean clothes on; the doctor amputated his leg, the only chance of saving his life; but by daylight he was gone. It was a sickening sight amid all the circumstances of the case. He was very grateful, and showered blessings on us as long as he could. Poor fellow: he must have thought, when discovered, that he would have a hard fate. I feel sure that if the case had been the other way up our man would not have escaped at their hands: that was certain. I am afraid we all carried great hatred in our compositions. The sole feeling was to sell one’s life dearly, if only one had the chance of getting to close quarters. The way the men fought was simply reckless. I have seen skirmishers go straight at the guns, and bayonet all they could reach—unsupported, and perhaps not six men close together.
One of our blue-jackets and Lord Charlie Scott, I believe, took a gun between them, and there is no doubt that they won the Victoria Cross. Somehow this event was never represented. On another occasion a blue-jacket was seen wrestling with a mutineer. Both had lost their muskets in the scrimmage. Eventually Jack got his man down with a fair back heel. In an instant the nigger had his teeth through Jack’s arm, the sailor pummelling away with the other. Then somebody called out, “Stick him with yourbayonet, man!” The sailor had forgotten that he had this still on his belt. Soon it came into use, and all was over for the rebel.
The forcing of the passage of the Gogra, accomplished by our force, enabled the Nepaulese army to cross; and next day they were off on their way to Lucknow. These troops, I suppose, could not be compared with the Ghoorkas of this day: I do not think they had much military system. Their chief weapon was the kookerie (a long-handled, curved-blade knife), which they were supposed to throw with the utmost precision a matter of fifty yards; and it was said that these knives were thrown during a charge before coming to very close quarters. For my part, I do not think I ever saw them used in this way: these warriors preferred their muskets and bayonets. They were adepts, however, at cutting off the head of a bullock with one stroke of the kookerie: I saw this done on more than one occasion.
After Jung Bahadour left us we recrossed the Gogra, and were sent back to defend the Gorruckpore district again: much to our disgust, as we thought there was a chance of our going on to Lucknow.
I forgot to mention that Jung Bahadour held a sort of levee in his camp to all our officers before he started, and, in a short speech, thanked us for helping him across. He was a perfect blaze ofprecious stones—diamonds and emeralds as large as a thimble—and must have been worth a mass of money as he stood.
We now came in for some severe fighting, marching, and countermarching, for weeks. The heat was becoming oppressive, with violent winds and dust-storms; and the flies were abominable. I have known a leg of a sheep or a goat half eaten by flies, if by any chance the tent was left deserted for a few hours. The white ants were most obnoxious insects: they would demolish a rug laid on the ground to such an extent that it was utterly useless for any practical purpose afterwards.
On the 3rd of March, having arrived and encamped at a place called Amorrah, our force was augmented by 250 of the Bengal Yeomanry Cavalry, a perfect Godsend to us. These were indeed splendid troops. The regiment—which, I believe, was raised at Calcutta—was commanded by one Colonel Chapman. As far as I can recollect, two-thirds of the men at least consisted of those who had lost their little all during the beginning of the Mutiny. Some, indeed,—and these not few—had lost near and dear relations, and, consequently, their only thought was of vengeance for the dastardly atrocities and ruin brought upon them and their poor families. They possessed, for the most part, nothing but what they stood in: they were volunteers, and came only to fightand to die, if such was to be their fate. They were beautifully horsed and well armed: in fact, a splendid corps. Many of the troopers were gentlemen in social life; all threw in their lot together; and their discipline was superb. If they had a fault, it was recklessness: in their charges nothing deterred them. I forget the actual engagement, and where it was; but, just to see a bit of the fun and what they would do, I followed them, after giving them the order from my Chief to charge a certain position; and at a respectable distance I saw the whole thing. After advancing at a trot, they found that a battery of the rebels was playing into part of our position very warmly. Suddenly they took ground to the right for a short distance, and, under cover of trees, formed up at right angles to the battery. Then they advanced at a canter, and, when within 100 yards or so of the battery, wheeled suddenly to their right and charged straight at the guns in front. As good luck would have it, the rebels fired their grape just too soon, and caught only a few outside files as the squadrons wheeled for the final charge.
It looked to me (200 yards or so away) as if they must have been annihilated; but, thank God, they had lost only seventeen killed and wounded and a few horses. It is needless to say that every gun was taken, and the gunners were sabred to aman. It was as fine a bit of dash as I ever saw in my life. It came off; but I suppose it was a wild adventure—charging straight up to the face of a battery.
About 2.30P.M.next day, after our arrival at Amorrah, the force marched out some eight miles to attack the fort of Belwar, not far from Fyzabad, and near the river. We had some scrimmaging in villages before we got to this fort; for about two hours we battered it with our artillery; and the skirmishers were potting away into the embrasures 200 yards distant, waiting the order to assault, if we made a breach. The guns were now moved up to within grape-shot range; but, somehow, we seemed to make no impression on these baked-mud bastions, which had been erected by our own engineers for a Ghoorka Brigade that had been there some time before, and, unfortunately, had not been demolished before they left it. The Brigadier, not liking the task of storming it, as it was nearly dark, ordered the force to retire under cover of the night for two miles.
The fact is, we had got the worst of it. To be candid, they drove us off. Next day the enemy were considerably reinforced: so much so, we had to retire to our encampment at Amorrah and entrench ourselves again. Luckily, we were not molested next day, the 4th; but on the 5th we had the most important fight of the wholecampaign, and there were considerable misgivings as to whether we could remain and fight it out or should have to retire farther. The worst of it was that our retrograde movement from the fort of Belwar had given the rebels additional pluck. They thought they had us.