1.Colonel Knyvett,38th Regiment, N. I.2.Lieutenant Salkeld,Bengal Engineers.(Died of wounds received at the assault of Delhi).3.Lieutenant Wilson,Bengal Artillery.4." Montague M. Proctor,38th N. I.5." H. Gambier,38th N. I.(Died of wounds received at the assault of Delhi).6.Captain G. Forrest,V.C.(Died from the effects of injuries received in thedefence of the Delhi Magazine on 11th May, 1857).7.Lieutenant Vibart,54th N. I.8.Mrs. Forrest.9.Mrs. Fraser,widow of Major Fraser,who had beenkilled atMeerut by the mutineer sappers.10.Miss Forrest.11." Annie Forrest.12." Eliza Forrest.13.Mr. Marshall(merchant).14 & 15.Two European women whose names I do not know.
Very glad was I to turn in that might with the prospect of a good rest, but I had not been asleep very long before the late Major Sanford, then a Lieutenant in my old regiment, and one of the most gallant gentlemen that ever buckled on a sword-belt, came and woke me up and told me that he had volunteered to carry despatches from General Hewett to the Commander-in-Chief at UmballaviâKurnal, and that he wanted me to escort him with my little faithful party. Of course I agreed, and went off to our lines, where the already tired men willingly consented to undertake the fresh and still more fatiguing and possibly more dangerous journey. Their horses were, however, quite knocked up, so I asked and obtained permissionto select for them twenty-five of the partially-broken remounts of the Carabineers.
Early in the morning we paraded in the lightest of light marching order, the young horses vigorously resenting being so unceremoniously pressed into the ranks before passing through Riding School. For the first few miles there was not much order in our little column. The half-broken troopers rearing, buck-jumping and plunging about, had it pretty much their own way; but before night they were quiet enough. All day we marched, and all night, and all next day, halting for an hour or so at a time, when a wayside well enabled us to water the horses. We requisitioned feeds of grain for them and of chuppatis for ourselves as we went along, duly giving receipts for them.En routewe made a long detour off the road to a district where we had been ordered to go in search of baggage-camels, which we were to have seized if we had found them; but they had departed. On the second daywe met the late gallant Major (then Lieutenant) Hodson who, escorted by a party of the Jhind Horse, had started on his ride to Meerut with despatches from General Anson to General Hewett, and who was to return with despatches from the latter to Army Head-Quarters. So unexpected was this meeting that at first each party took the other for "moofsids," as we used in those days to designate the rebels; but we soon discovered our mistake. Hodson was naturally much relieved to find that the road in front of him was open, though doubtless disappointed that his errand was forestalled. The reader, who has read of Hodson's famous ride to Meerut, and who has not to this moment ever heard that it was anticipated by others, will probably be surprised by this narration, but nevertheless it is simply true. The credit of carrying the first despatches from Meerut to Umballa is due to the late Major Sanford, who, to me and to all who knew him, was a type of all that is most noble and brave and modest; but alas! hismemory is buried in our hearts. The world has heard little of him.
In the evening we arrived at Kurnal, having traversed in less than thirty-six hours more than ninety miles: for the straight road between Meerut and Kurnal is seventy-six, and our fruitless detour after the camels took us many more miles. Sanford at once went on by dâk to Umballa and delivered his despatches to General Anson. He eventually got command of the cavalry of the guide corps before Delhi, and retained it till the close of the siege.
My small party was not then sent back to Meerut, but moved down towards Delhi with the advanced body of troops, making itself useful in collecting supplies and scouting. On the road we succeeded in capturing several miscreants who had committed murderous outrages on our unfortunate countrymen and women while trying to effect their escape from Delhi. They were given the benefit of a fair trial; and those who were found guilty were duly hanged.One of these wretches who had been tried and sentenced one afternoon was subsequently confined till sunset—the usual hour for executions—in the guard tent of the 1st Bengal Fusiliers, which happened on that occasion to contain another tenant, an Irish soldier who had been drinking, "not wisely but too well." When the Provost Marshal's party came in the evening for the condemned criminal they found him in a sorry plight. The half-sober Irishman begged that they would not take him away. "Bedad," said he, "he has been the most divarting companion I iver had." The "divarsion" had been perhaps a little one-sided.
One evening, shortly before the force reached Alipore, I was suddenly ordered to take my party back to MeerutviâBagput, for the General expected an engagement, and evidently felt uncertain as to whether my men were to be trusted under such trying circumstances as an actual fight against their old comrades. Previously to this poor General Ansonhad died, worn out by anxiety and fatigue, and General Barnard was in command. Accompanied by the Adjutant-General, Colonel Chester, and by his Interpreter, Captain Howell, he inspected my little party on parade, and after praising its conduct in the highest terms, informed us that he would give each native member of it a step of substantive rank for each of the two expeditions in which they had shared. He then told them that in a short time he expected to engage the rebels, and that, though he had no doubt of their loyalty, he was unwilling to take them into action against men who so lately had been their comrades, of their own race and religions, and that therefore he had decided to send them back to Meerut. The whole of them implored to be allowed to remain and to prove their loyalty in the field; but the General was not to be turned from his decision. He was evidently much moved, and for a moment I hoped that he was wavering; but presently he turned away; and with deep disappointmentI felt that there was nothing for it but to turn our horses' heads to the east and make for the ferry at Bagput. Before General Barnard could carry out his promise he fell a victim to cholera. Colonel Chester was killed in action, and Captain Howell also died—I think from that scourge of the camp—cholera. Thus was left on my shoulders the wholeonusof securing to my men the fulfilment of the General's promise—a task in which, after much trouble and delay, I was happily eventually successful.
To march off the ground and out of camp no preparations were needed, for we were without camp equipage of any kind whatever. It must be remembered that all this took place in the middle of the hot weather, before the rains; so that it was no hardship to sleep in the open air on the ground beside our horses, who also required no blankets. Except our horses, their saddles and bridles and our arms, and the clothes on our backs, we possessed literally nothing in the world.
It was not long, therefore, before we had put a good distance between ourselves and our late comrades. When dawn broke we found ourselves debouching from a grove of trees on to a plain, at the further side of which was the river and the bridge-of-boats with the village of Bagput on the opposite bank; but to our horror the bridge was occupied by a strong body of apparently rebel troops, whom our appearance threw into sudden commotion. We could see infantry rapidly falling in, troopers mounting in hot haste, and camels and elephants rushing to the bridge, flying from our expected onslaught. Scant time was there to decide on a course of action. With our tired horses escape from so strong a body of cavalry was hopeless. Nothing was left but to charge the bridge and trust to luck and the rapidity of our attack to disconcert the enemy, and enable some at least of us to get through with whole skins. These were the days of drilling by "threes;" but as I judged that there would be room for four menabreast on the bridge, I formed my party as quickly as possible into what would now be called a column of sections of fours, and moved down the slope on to the plain at a gallop, increasing our pace as we approached the bridge. To my delight and surprise the enemy seemed quite demoralised and in confusion, and I was beginning to feel sure of a successful rush through them, when I was startled by the apparition of a white face peering at me from behind a mass of stones, and the shout of an English voice yelling at me to halt. Never was man more relieved and pleased to be out of a frightful scrape. In another second I had halted my party and had ridden across the bridge and was talking to ——, an officer who informed me that he had been sent with a strong body of the Raja of Jhind's troops to occupy the bridge and hold it till further orders; but he said that he was not going to stay any longer. The place was a great deal too near Delhi and too liable to sudden attack to please him, and the fright hehad got from the sudden appearance of my small party had put the finishing touch to his resolution. He said that our French-grey uniforms and the swiftness of our attack had convinced him that we were the advanced party of a large body of the enemy, and he had given himself up for lost. At any rate he had had enough of Bagput and meant to be off at once. In vain I implored him to defer his departure till the evening, pointing out that my horses were quite done up, and that we would be obliged to stop there for some hours to rest and feed. Nothing would move him, and there and then he marched off, bag and baggage, and left us to our own devices. We could plainly hear the guns of a fight, which must have been that at the Hindun Nuddee; and, tired as we were, rest was impossible. In the afternoon we moved on, and next morning marched into Meerut without further misadventure.
For the next few weeks time passed quietly enough with me. The greater portion of the garrison of Meerut had gone to strengthen the besieging force at Delhi; and had, under Brigadier-General Archdale Wilson, at the hard fought battles at the Hindun Nuddee, gloriously wiped away the reproach of the supine inaction which had been imposed on it by General Hewett on the 10th of May. We, who were left to kick our heels in idleness at Meerut, spent most of our time in moving Heaven and Earth to get transferred to the army at Delhi. At last the red-letter-day came for me. My friend and comrade, Captain Sanford, had been appointed to officiate in the command of the Cavalry of the Guides Corps, and he lost no time in writing to me and promising that ifI could get over to Delhi, he would manage to have me attached to the regiment. At that moment I was laid up with a touch of fever, due probably to previous exposure; but I was not long in presenting myself to the Staff Officer of the garrison and shewing him Sanford's letter, taking very good care not to remind him that I was on the sick list—a circumstance which he fortunately overlooked. That afternoon I joyfully took French leave of the Doctor, and started in company with some half-dozen other officers, who were also bound for the Delhi force, back again along the well-remembered track to Bagput. We marched at night, thinking that we were then, more likely than in the day time, to escape encounter with any prowling bands of rebels or Goojars. The district between Meerut and Bagput was infested by the latter, a tribe of hereditary criminals whose chief amusement during peaceful times seems to consist in effecting breaches of the Penal Code, while they invariably take advantageof periods of disturbance to indulge to the utmost their ingrained predatory propensities. Small as our party was, we were therefore careful to adopt all practical precautions. As I knew the road I was sent in advance as a scout, while on each flank rode another officer, the main body of three or four men detaching one more to the rear. In this order we rode all night, fortunately without adventure; and in the gray dawn we reached Bagput.
The bridge-of-boats had been removed, and we crossed the river in a large flat-bottomed ferry boat. Here we had the misfortune to lose one of our horses, belonging to Captain Craigie of my regiment. His owner had neglected to unfasten the rather tight standing-martingale which he always used; and this hampered the animal when it tried to jump into the boat, and caused it to fall into the deep water between it and the bank. Even now all would have been well but for that unlucky standing-martingale which entirely preventedthe struggling horse from swimming, and held its nose hopelessly underwater till it was drowned, without any possibility of help being given it. In a few moments the poor horse sank, carrying with it Craigie's saddle and bridle and a revolver which was in one of the holsters. The efforts which some native divers made to recover the saddle, &c., were fruitless; and we had to abandon the endeavour, borrow a "country" nag for Craigie, and cross the river. When we reached the opposite bank we heard shouts from the Bagput side, and saw men holding up the saddle and revolver which they had succeeded in fishing up. That was, however, the last that Craigie saw of his property. As we crossed the stretch of sand on the further bank we narrowly escaped another casualty; for one of our party got into a quicksand, and for some moments horse and man were in serious danger of being swallowed up. At last, however, we all got safely under way and continued the second half of our journey.
Never shall I forget the moment when, from a rising ground, the frowning walls of Delhi and the white tents of the besieging force burst into view.
So vast an extent of ground was covered by the huge city—so puny and diminutive in comparison was the encampment which nestled under the famous "Ridge!" Truly a sight to fill the heart with exulting pride; for we knew that the men in these tent were sure, some day before many weeks were over, to storm the formidable walls of the great fortress, and to carry the British flag in triumph into its innermost citadel. No shadow of doubt of the ultimate success of our arms ever troubled any of our minds in those days. The insolent belief in the irresistibility of thefuror Britannicushad not then met any of the rude shocks which in latter days have somewhat shaken it, in spite of an army composed of short-service soldiers and of leaders trained to a pitch of theoretical perfection by the Professors of the Staff College.
Directly we arrived in camp I reported myself to Sir Henry Norman, then Assistant Adjutant-General of the Force, and, I think, in rank a captain. In a few hours I was put in orders as attached to the Cavalry of the Guides. The famous forced march of that splendid corps under Daly from Hoti Murdan to Delhi is matter of history, and can never be forgotten. The honourable roll of its losses in officers and men during the siege is recorded on a tablet on the wall of the memorial tower on the Ridge.
I do not propose to inflict on the reader's patience the often-told story of the siege. That task has been performed by far abler pens than mine. It will be sufficient for me to endeavour to sketch two or three of the minor episodes at which I was present, and which seemed to me to be picturesque or interesting.
As may be easily understood, much of our time in the Cavalry branch was occupied on picquet or outpost duty. One of these outposts, at a place called, I think, Azadpore, far away on the extremeright rear of our position, was peculiarly liable to attack, as it was pretty well "in the air," and offered a tempting object for a sudden swoop by a large body of the enemy. One afternoon when my commanding officer, Captain Sanford, and myself, being off duty, were mounting to enjoy a quiet ride, we became aware of a great commotion in the Azadpore direction. Clouds of dust rapidly whirling in the air! Camels and grass-cutters' ponies flying wildly to the camp! Evidently something wrong! "Gallop to the lines. Sound the Boot-and-Saddle and the Mount" was the order Captain Sanford gave me, while he tore off into the clouds of dust to reconnoitre. Instantly was the quiet of our camp changed into a scene of the liveliest bustle. Horses being saddled—men tumbling out of their tents—buckling on their belts—jumping on their horses, and "falling in"—all this in frantic haste—when Sanford returned and shouted to me "Bring along as many men as have mounted. Nevermind telling off. The Azadpore picquet is being driven in." By this time not more than 20 or 25 men were in their saddles, and away we went after Sanford as hard as we could tear, leaving the rest of the regiment to follow as soon as it could be got together. Through the flying animals and camp followers, many of them wounded, we galloped along, straining our eyes into the distance; and presently we saw the picquet, surrounded by clouds of the rebel horse, being driven slowly back, stubbornly fighting and disputing every inch of ground. As we hove into sight the enemy more or less disengaged itself from the picquet, and attempted to throw itself into formation to meet our attack. There must have been several hundred of them. The whole ground in front seemed thick with them; and I must confess my heart sank within me when the gallant Sanford, instead of waiting for the reinforcements which must have been close behind us, simply increased the pace, and evidently meant to hurlour small party straight into the overwhelming mass before us. "It is all up with you this time" was my ejaculation to myself, but "needs must" when—one's commanding officer leads! So I set my teeth and determined to make the best of a bad job. Could I believe my eyes? The dense body that had begun to advance against us slowed down to a walk—halted—wavered—and finally scattered! With a roar we charged into them. Our pace was so great that it was impossible for them to put on the steam in time to escape our onslaught. The picquet joined in—our own reinforcements caught us up—and then was seen on that plain as pretty a bout of sword play as ever rejoiced the heart of a horseman. No attempt at keeping order was possible. As the "Pandies" scattered, so did we, each man singling out his victim. The slaughter of the enemy was considerable, the losses on our side extremely trifling. As the fierce pursuit rolled on we became aware that the masses ofthe flying mutineers were thickening in our front, and were gradually concentrating towards one point. Evidently some obstruction prevented their escape to the flanks. At last a huge living wedge of frantic, struggling, panic-stricken men and horses was crowded together, hemmed in between a deep canal and a masonry aqueduct which crossed it at right angles. Into this solid mass it was impossible to penetrate, but the outer fringe of it was mowed down by thetulwarsof our men. No quarter was ever given or taken before Delhi. If the mutineers had been cruel as the most savage of wild beasts, fearful was the revenge which many and many a time was wreaked on them by our maddened troops.
Where the aqueduct crossed the canal it had been partially destroyed, and on the masses of fallen masonry it was just possible for one horseman at a time to pick his way across; but where one escaped many were overthrown and trampled on by the struggling mob.It had been comparatively easy for the enemy, intent on the surprise of the Azadpore picquet, to steal across in single file; but it was quite a different thing for a confused and terrified crowd to force its way across. At this point great slaughter took place, and many, in despair, turned round and charged their pursuers, only to meet a certain and speedy death. One poor wretch, extricating himself from the crowd, jumped his horse on to a detached fragment of the broken aqueduct on the plain before it joined the canal, and there he stood, as on a pedestal six or eight feet high, in vain seeking a short respite from his inevitable fate. Almost simultaneously one of our men sprung his horse alongside of him, and on that precarious platform, with barely footing for their horses, these two engaged in a savage fight for life. Like lightning their swords flashed as they cut at each other without any attempt at parrying. In a second or two our man received a frightful slash onhis arm, and it would have gone hard with him if at that moment one of his comrades who was armed with a long spear had not charged straight at the group, and, as he pulled his horse up on its haunches at the base of the masonry, transfixed the Pandy through the body. At the same instant our man, maddened with pain and excitement, drove his horse against his antagonist and thrust him clean off the block of masonry, horses and men all rolling together on the ground below.
The survivors of the adventurous spirits who had attacked the outpost rode back into Delhi that night considerably crestfallen.
The picquet had been furnished by one of the Punjab cavalry regiments, and was commanded by a gentleman of a rather taciturn habit who is still well remembered under his nickname of "Fowls." Never shall I forget the quaint but gallant spectacle which he presented, as with his faithful quizzing glass firmly glued on to one eye he faced his enemiesand laid about him with his sword, grimly silent, while being slowly driven back by theforce majeureof overwhelming numbers. The story goes that he earned hispetit nomas follows:—On some occasion, on the line of march, he had, for days and weeks, ridden solemnly and silently among his comrades. Not a word had ever escaped his lips till, on one memorable morning, as his detachment entered a village, our friend, who must have been gloomily pondering on the scantiness of the supplies in the camp larder of the mess, espied a family ofmoorgisbusily scratching up the dust on the road before him. The welcome sight was too much for him. Then and there he lifted up his voice and cried "Fowls!" and straightway relapsed into pristine dumbness. Seldom if ever has so short a speech been greeted with such loud applause. His delighted comrades, now that the spell was broken, naturally hoped that the sudden ejaculation was but a preliminary to a permanent loosening of the hitherto tied tongue; but theywere doomed to disappointment. From that time forth not a word escaped those lips. Neither fowls nor ducks nor geese nor turkeys, nor even sheep availed any more to draw forth the slightest oral token of appreciation—merely would the half sleepy eyes glisten into life at the sight of the welcome "find," and possibly a nod of the head would direct attention to it. Thus came it about that the soubriquet of "Fowls" was by unanimous vote conferred on its possessor.
That evening when we were all assembled at dinner in the mess tent, an unfortunate "Pandy" who had been found skulking under a bush by some of our men was brought before the commanding officer. There was no mistaking him for anything but a sepoy; and there could be no doubt about his fate. Still I could not help thinking his luck was very hard; and doubtless my face betrayed my feelings; for the unfortunate man, with an appealing look at me, declared he was no sepoy, but had been my domestic servant; and he imploredme to bear witness to his truth and save his life. What could I do! It was impossible to swear to a falsehood; but I pleaded hard, though, I fear, unsuccessfully, that he might be allowed to escape.
During one of the numerous encounters with the enemy which kept the camp before Delhi lively, an officer serving with the infantry of the Guides Corps was wounded in a manner sufficiently curious to deserve record. During a pause in the operations he was standing with his back to a tree when a bullet struck the ground close to him, and caused a fragment of stone to fly up against his forehead, on which it inflicted a slight flesh wound. As he threw his head back at the sudden shock, it came in contact with a sharp splinter of a broken branch sticking out from the tree. Instinctively he put his right hand up to his forehead. It was covered with blood. Then he felt the back of his head with his left hand. That also was all bloody. "My God!" He exclaimed, "I'm adead man! Shot right through the head!" and he sought a soft place to lie down on and die, an event which he expected to take place in a second or two. To his surprise, after fully a minute, he was as alive as ever. So, again, he felt the two wounds. There was no mistake about it. They were both bleeding freely. Once more he curled himself up; but as death did not come, he presently began to think that there must be something strange and abnormal about the hole right through his head, and his relief may be imagined, when a brother officer, after a hurried examination of it, explained matters to him. I am afraid he was flippant enough, as he jumped to his feet, to join in the laugh against himself. Wonderful recoveries from apparently mortal wounds were by no means uncommon. I have myself seen an officer hit full in the chest by a bullet which came out at his back. I jumped off my horse and wrung his hand for the last farewell, and rode on (for this occurred during a pursuit), leaving him tothe care of the surgeon who at that moment came up. What was my surprise to find, many hours afterwards when we returned to camp, that the wounded officer was not only not dead, but not likely to die. The bullet had glanced off a rib and gone round his chest under the skin, and so out of his back. Another officer had his jaw smashed by a bullet which did not apparently make its exit anywhere. The simple fact was that he swallowed it, along with some of his teeth.
On the Ridge stood a lofty building, the Observatory Tower, from the summit of which, during the early part of the siege, a look-out used to be kept on the operations of the enemy.
This fact becoming known, drew on the tower an altogether undesirable share of attention from the guns on the walls of Delhi; and the upper parts of it soon got considerably knocked about by shot and shell. Long after this look-out post had been withdrawn occasional shells used still to be "loosed off" atthe tower, making things rather hot for the small knot of officers off duty which used generally to be found up there enjoying the view when anything more interesting than usual was going on in front. On one occasion two or three other men and myself had found our way to the top of it, when we were joined by a gentleman connected with a mercantile firm, to whose enterprise the camp was indebted for its supplies of "tar bund" beer (a luxury for which we were glad to pay sixteen rupees a dozen), Exshaw's brandy and Harvey's sauce, and many varieties of tinned provisions, besides Holloway's pills and ointment, and such like patent nostrums. While we were all looking at the walls of the city, a puff of white smoke was seen to issue from a point known to us as "the hole in the wall" where dwelt a mortar of large calibre. In a few seconds the big shell vomited out from it burst high in the air, fully a quarter of a mile away from us, but in a very accurate alignment for our position. "Down," shoutedone of our number, and we all, with the exception of our civilian friend, crouched behind a heavy mass of solid masonry. He, however, stood his ground, folded his arms across his chest, and for a moment surveyed us with a look of half contemptuous surprise. "Why have these stupid fellows sought shelter?" thought he. "The shell has burst ever so far away. The danger is all over now. The pieces must be falling to the ground." Very speedily was he undeceived. Hurtling and hissing, the broken fragments of the shell came rushing onwards and crashed against the tower, fortunately without hitting him. As we stood up he threw himself down. He then learned a lesson, which I dare say he did not soon forget, concerning the momentum of projectiles, and the general advisability of taking a hint from persons presumably likely to know what they were about.
All this time the siege, if so it could be described, "dragged its slow length along;" but in reality, neither was theCity invested by us, nor was our force besieged, as has been so often asserted, by the rebel troops. Both forces lay facing each other. Both were in contact along a comparatively short front. Both were entirely open to their respective rear, with practically unmenaced communications in those directions. Neither could prevent reinforcements or supplies reaching the other. We on our part could not even attempt to intercept the various contingents of mutineers which, during the early part of the siege, poured into Delhi from the south; and were hurled, in almost monotonous succession, against our position, while still fresh and undemoralised by defeat, only to be driven back, time after time, with immense slaughter, by the invincible little phalanx of Britons, Sikhs and Gurkhas, which sturdily clung, bull-dog fashion, to the ground it had taken up. For a time the numbers of the enemy continued to increase, as almost daily fresh bodies by regiments and brigades marched into the already crowded city,their arrival noisily saluted by heavy artillery. Our muster roll, on the other hand, far from augmenting, actually dwindled away; for incessant losses from casualties in action were heavily supplemented by deaths from fever and cholera; and our much-needed reinforcements were long in coming. But we rested secure in the firm assurance that sooner or later they would certainly come. We all knew that John Lawrence and his lieutenants were straining every nerve to secure the safety of the Punjab in our rear, by disarming the disaffected Hindustani regiments in that province, and by raising fresh ones, both of cavalry and infantry, from the staunch fighting men of the Khalsa. We knew that as swiftly as could possibly be compassed by human forethought and human energy, these trustworthy and brave levies, and every British regiment that could be spared, and every heavy gun and mortar in the Ferozepore Arsenal, and, almost better than all, the heroic Nicholson would come to our aid; and thatthen the real siege would begin in earnest, and the fate of Delhi would be sealed.
Early in August took place the only serious effort on the part of the enemy to cut off our communications. To quote from a letter written by General Wilson to Nicholson and received by the latter on the 3rd of August[3]:—"The enemy have re-established the bridge over the Najufgurh Canal (which we had destroyed) and have established themselves in force there, with the intention of moving on Alipore and our communications with the rear. I therefore earnestly beg you to push forward with the utmost expedition in your power, both to drive these fellows from my rear, and to aid me in holding my position." How promptly and effectually Nicholson carried out these instructions is graphically described in the pages of Sir John Kaye's work. On the 14th of August he led into the Delhi Camp the moveable column which had already done yeoman's service by disarming the mutinous regiments at Phillour and Umritsar, and destroying the Sealkote Brigade of rebels at Trimmoo Ghât. On the 25th of August he marched out again at the head of a small force of all arms; and before nightfall he had swept from Najufgurh the "Neemuch Brigade" which was lying in wait to intercept the siege train on its slow approach from Ferozepore Arsenal.
There are some men whose personal appearance harmonises so perfectly with their intellectual and moral characteristics that any one on seeing them for the first time would be almost certain intuitively to guess their identity. Nicholson was one of these. Tall, dark, and stern, he looked every inch what he was, a fearless, self-reliant, fierce and masterful man, born for stormy times and stirring events. It was impossible to associate him with anything commonplace, or otherwise than heroic or great. On me, as on every one else, he produced a vividimpression, which can never become dim. When I first saw him it was only for a moment. He said something in low tones to an acquaintance, and passed on; but instinctively I felt that I had come into contact with one who stood apart from and overtopped other men. "That is Nicholson," I said, knowing that it could be no one else.
On the 4th of September the huge guns and mortars of the siege train, fitly drawn by still more colossal elephants, slowly and solemnly rolled through the camp on to the Ridge. On the 6th the very last batch of reinforcements, a detachment of the 60th Rifles from Meerut, arrived, marching "in their usual jaunty way" as described by Hervey Greathead in a letter to his wife written on that day. The Royal Engineers had already filled a vast "Engineers' park" with fascines, gabions, sand bags, and every conceivable appliance for the bombardment and storm. Nothing had been overlooked. Nothing remained but to begin the real and final siege and deliver the assault.
That no time was lost is evidenced by the fact that one breaching battery of six heavy guns, within seven hundred yards of the Moree Bastion, was finished and armed on the evening of the 6th, and began its work of destruction on the 7th.
FOOTNOTES:[3]Kaye's Sepoy War, Vol. II, p. 645.
[3]Kaye's Sepoy War, Vol. II, p. 645.
[3]Kaye's Sepoy War, Vol. II, p. 645.
From that time till the morning of the 11th, when the last of the four batteries was completed, our gallant Engineers and working parties and Gunners worked as men have never worked before or since. All night long picks and spades and shovels were busily plied, under a heavy fire, in constructing the batteries; on which, so soon as finished, the heavy guns and mortars were mounted; and as successively they were placed in position they joined in swelling the furious storm of shot and shell which never ceased tearing down the masonry of the city defences till the moment of the assault in the grey dawn of the 14th. The last battery was built under the shelter of the ruined walls of the Custom-house, at a distance of 180 yards from the water bastion, under a terrific and incessant fire from the Kashmir and Water bastionsand the curtain between them, Let the reader try to realise this; and he will admit that no more desperate or daring enterprise was ever achieved in front of a besieged fortress.
On the 13th it was my hard fate to be on outpost duty at Azadpore, where rumours reached me that the assault was likely to be delivered before dawn on the 14th. My picquet should in ordinary course have been relieved that morning, but no relief came; and as the day wore on, it seemed that I was destined to be left out there kicking my heels, forlorn and forgotten, till all should be over. This was more than could be borne; so I despatched messenger after messenger into camp with imploring letters, begging for the recall of my picquet. My entreaties were successful, and I had the intense, if selfish, gratification of at length seeing in the distance the small column of dust which heralded the approach of the party that had been sent to take my place. Very grumpy and sulky was the officer in command; but, after all, it was histurn for the duty. Every one must take his luck as it comes. Consoling him with this crusted old apothegm, I lost no time in clearing out of the post and taking my detachment back to camp; but even then I was destined to grievous disappointment. The troops intended to form the Cavalry Brigade under Sir Hope Grant had been told off, and my party had to content itself with forming part of the reserve which remained in camp. So I lost the chance of being one of the glorious six hundred, whose heroic endurance that day under a fierce hurricane of grape and musketry "prevented the enemy, who had driven back the 4th Column, from advancing along the open ground between the Ridge and the City, and taking the whole of our left attack in flank."[4]When the attempt of the column under the gallant Colonel Reid to force an entrance into the City by the Lahore Gate failed, partly owing to the want of artillery, and partly tothe defeat of the auxiliary Kashmir contingent, the whole brunt of keeping the victorious rebels, many thousands in numbers, from pouring out of Kissengunge and pursuing our retreating infantry, fell on the Cavalry Brigade. Before, however, the enemy could dare to trust themselves on the plain beyond the shelter of their walls, it was necessary to drive the horsemen from it; and fierce was the effort to do so. From the walls of the City, from the suburbs of Kissengunge, a fiery hail of lead unceasingly swept. Saddle after saddle was emptied; horse after horse fell, but not for a moment was there the slightest wavering or unsteadiness. Quietly and without confusion the ranks continued to close together and fill ever-recurring gaps, grimly determined to hold their ground to the last man. Utterly unable to return the fire, or to do anything but remain immoveable as passive living targets, they seemed doomed to eventual annihilation—when Tomb's famous troop of horse artillery galloped to therescue. Taking up a position at the closest of close quarters, not more than two hundred yards from the enemy, it was not long after our guns came into action that they drove the hitherto triumphant rebels back from the external walls into the labyrinth of houses in their rear, and materially reduced their fire. But from the Lahore Gate an unsilenced 24-pounder still continued to pour grape into the ranks, and to tear many a ghastly gap in them. Not till the rebel fire, drawn off by the success of our attack on the Kashmiri Gate, had dwindled away to harmlessness, and all danger of a sortie was effectually extinguished, was the sorely crippled Cavalry Brigade withdrawn from its post of honour.
Though this deed of the six hundred before the walls of Delhi has not been sung by the Poet Laureate, and is not so world-famous as that of the other six hundred at Balaclava, it fully deserves to be bracketed with it as an example of heroism and self-sacrificing devotion. Each is a brilliant instance of the perfect union of disciplineand courage. If the charge of the Light Brigade was a blunder, so much the greater is the glory of the brave men who rode to death without questioning their orders.
Theirs not to reason why,Theirs but to do and die.
There was no blunder in the order which devoted the six hundred of the Delhi Cavalry to face afeu d'enferfor the salvation of their Infantry comrades. Every soldier who knows what it is to "sit still to be shot at" will appreciate with pride the feat of arms performed on that morning of the 14th September 1857 by the British and Native Cavalry Brigade under the command of the fearless and gentle Sir Hope Grant.
So vivid is the description of this episode in the glowing pages of Sir John Kaye that I find it difficult to resist the temptation of transcribing it; but most of my military readers are doubtless familiar with it; and if any have not yet read hisHistory of the Sepoy War in India, I would recommend them to loseno time in studying that deeply interesting work. It is an imperishable tribute to the glory of our arms, and no one who reads its narrative of the brave deeds done by Englishmen, civilians as well as soldiers, aided by Sikhs and Gurkhas and the few other loyal races of India during that time of supreme stress and trial, can help feeling his heart fill with honest and patriotic pride, and with confident hope that if ever again so fierce a struggle should be forced on ourselves or our descendants, the old spirit of the Anglo-Saxon race will prove true to itself.
I will not attempt to describe the various fortunes of the four columns of assault. That story has been told once for all by Sir John Kaye; and it is not likely that any more full or clear or correct narrative will ever be written.
Full of triumph as we who remained outside were at the knowledge that the Kashmiri Gate and curtain had been successfully stormed, and that our flag was flying on the ramparts which had solong defied us, it was yet inexpressibly mournful to witness the long procession of "doolies" bearing the dead and wounded which streamed slowly back into camp. Many a gallant soldier that day gave his life for the honour of his Queen and country; but the loss that overshadowed all others was that of the valiant Nicholson, struck down with a mortal wound in the hour of victory while nobly exposing himself to almost certain death in the act of cheering forward his men, who were for a moment checked by a torrent of lead that swept the narrow lane up which they were advancing. His memory and his example will never be lost to the British Army, long and brilliant as is the roll of its heroes.
The strength of the four columns of assault was 3,660 men; of the Reserve column 1,500; or a total of 5,160. Opposed to us was a fortress "seven miles in circumference, filled with an immense fanatical Mussalman population, garrisoned by full 40,000 soldiers armed and disciplined by ourselves, with 114 heavypieces of artillery mounted on the walls, with the largest magazine of shot, shell, and ammunition in the Upper Provinces at their disposal, besides some 60 pieces of field artillery, all of our own manufacture, and manned by artillerymen drilled and taught by ourselves."[5]
The casualties on our side that morning were 1,145 killed and wounded. The result of the day's fighting was that we had forced our way into a small corner of the City, and there "hung on by our teeth." Slight and precarious as was the grip which we had thus obtained on the throat of the enemy, it yet proved sufficient for eventual success; but there can be no dispute that for the next forty-eight hours the position was critical. The great City with its intricate network of narrow lanes crookedly piercing through masses of lofty brick-built houses—with its strong places such as the Magazine, the King's Palace, Selimgurh, andthe Jumma Musjid—was yet unconquered and defiant; the roar of combat continued without ceasing. The General, Sir Archdale Wilson, worn out with illness and want of rest, and with the strain of long-continued anxiety, seemed to those around him to be losing heart and to be half inclined to abandon our dearly-earned footing within the walls, and to withdraw the troops once more to the old position outside. Worse than all, great stores of brandy and wine which had been cunningly left by the rebels exposed to the sight of our soldiers, fell into their hands, and the inevitable result followed. Numbers of our men eagerly swallowed the fiery poison; and those who had hitherto proved themselves heroes now wallowed in the gutters, helpless and imbecile. Most providentially the enemy did not seize upon that moment for a vigorous onslaught. If they had done so it would probably have been successful, and the British Empire in India would have staggered under a crushing and shameful blow from theworst and most persistent foe of its army, strong drink. Vigorous measures were, however, promptly taken. Working parties, strongly officered, were told off to destroy the bottles and empty the casks; and very soon all danger from this source was averted.
On the 16th an important step in advance was achieved. The magazine was taken with trifling loss; and though the small arms portion of it had suffered seriously from the gallant exploit of Willoughby, who had blown it up on the 11th of May, great stores of artillery munitions were found in it. Very promptly were mortars set in position within it to shell the Palace, which was not more than a quarter of a mile distant. Most interesting and beautiful was it to see the big shells, propelled by a mere spoonful of powder, issuing from their wide throats; and, after performing a slow and graceful curve, easily followed by the naked eye, fall within the dull red walls of the Palace. Then would be heard a deep roar and a crash as of fallingmasonry, often followed by loud yells of hurt or dismay.
The next important forward move was accomplished on the night of the 18th and early morning of the 19th, when our troops, steadily working their way from house to house and enclosure to enclosure, succeeded in seizing the Lahore bastion. From this moment the game was all up for the enemy. The old King and his people had cleared out of the Palace on the 18th, doubtless finding the place inconveniently lively, and on the 19th a general exodus from the City must have been accomplished.
Early on the morning of the 20th my Commanding Officer, Captain Sanford, was nowhere to be found. I was told that he had last been seen riding, followed by a single orderly, in the direction of the City. In a moment flashed on me, with the confidence of certainty, the thought that he must have gone on a scouting expedition into the City, to ascertain how far the enemy had evacuated it, and that he had not taken me, usuallyhis inseparable companion, because he did not wish to expose me to the risks of a certainly hare-brained exploit. No sooner had I formed this idea than I summoned my personal orderly and went off in search of him. When we arrived at the City my surmise was confirmed. Sanford and his orderly had been seen riding in to the deserted streets beyond our sentries. So we followed his example, and, keeping an uncommonly bright look-out, started on the route which he was said to have taken. Truly the town was abandoned. Not a living creature did we see; but we had not gone many hundred yards before we met Sanford, briskly trotting back, his face radiant with joy. He had penetrated right through the City to the Delhi and Turkman gates on the south, and had chalked "Guide Cavalry" on them. With him I rode to the quarters of Sir Archdale Wilson, to whom he reported the fact that the whole place was evacuated by the enemy. Whether others had anticipated Sanford I know not; but I do not thinkthat whatever news may have been brought in to our Intelligence Department by native spies, any Englishman had, before him, with his own eyes, witnessed the fact that Delhi was at last entirely in our power. At any rate his daring exploit was performed exactly as I have related it. Not many months subsequently he lost his life, as will be hereafter told, while undertaking, single-handed, a not dissimilar reconnaisance.
During the day our troops entered into full possession of the City. All the strong points, the Palace, Selimgurh, the Jumma Musjid, the bastions and the gates were occupied by them; and the latest, and, let us trust, the last, siege of Delhi came to an end.
All is well that ends well. It is always easy and not always unprofitable after an event to speculate as to what might have been the result if a different course of action had been adopted with the view of bringing it about. It is well known that General Barnard, yielding to the arguments of the ardent young officersof Royal Engineers, Greathead, Chesney, and Maunsell, aided by Hodson, had sanctioned an attempt to take Delhi by acoup de mainon the morning of the 12th of June; and that if Brigadier Graves, the field officer of the day, had understood, or, understanding, had obeyed his instructions to reinforce the attacking column with the 1st Fusiliers, the assault would actually have come off. It is also known that about three weeks afterwards the General had again all but made up his mind to risk "the gambler's throw," when he first hesitated, and then decided to delay a little longer; that then he died of cholera; and that General Reed, who succeeded him, was compelled by broken health, after a few days, to resign the command into the hands of General Archdale Wilson; and that the latter never for a moment dreamed of doing more than holding his own position, far less of storming Delhi, till he had been reinforced by every available soldier that could be sent to him from the Punjab, and by the heavyguns and mortars of the siege train from Ferozepore.
It is certainly possible that if the intended assault had been delivered on the 12th of June it would have been successful. For my own part I have very little doubt on the subject. The battles of the Hindun Nuddee and of Badle-ka-Serai had severely shaken themoraleof the enemy; and the very audacity of so daring and so prompt an attack by the united forces from Umballa and Meerut, each of which had, unsupported by the other, won so signal a victory, would have struck terror into the rebels and probably insured their defeat. On the other hand, the prospects of success three weeks later were not so hopeful. In the interval our numbers had not augmented, while those of the enemy had received considerable accessions. They had materially strengthened their defences; and had probably regained confidence in themselves.
Granting, however, that we would have succeeded in storming the walls, andeven—far harder task—in driving the enemy out of the City with our handful of troops, would our position then have been better and stronger than the one we held on the Ridge? Would our two thousand bayonets have been adequate to occupy a circle of walls seven miles in length against an army of at least forty thousand men? For it may be presumed that as brigade after brigade and contingent after contingent mutinied they would have rolled together and attempted the recapture of the seat of the Moghul Empire. On the other hand, would the early fall of Delhi have prevented the further spread of revolt, and, if so, would that have been an unmixed good; or was it better that the full measure of the latent disaffection should be allowed to reveal itself and be once for all effectually stamped out? Such are the problems which will occur to a thoughtful mind and which cannot with certainty be solved.
The story of the capture of the old King and of the slaughter of the Princesby Hodson is too well-known to need repetition.
During the next few weeks nothing more eventful occurred within the walls of Delhi than the doings of the prize agents—from the point of view, at any rate, of a needy subaltern who looked to them for the replenishment of a purse which had been well nigh emptied by the incendiary fires at Meerut.
The first column to be detached on external operations was the one under Colonel Greathead of the 8th King's, which moved southwards with the view of attacking and breaking up any retreating bodies of the enemy which it might overtake; and which, early in October, so opportunely effected the relief of Agra, and gained so glorious a victory over the Indore contingent and the other rebel troops which were moving to the assault of that place. Another column under Brigadier-General Showers was subsequently sent into the districts to the west and north-west, and to this the Guide Cavalry was attached. Our chiefobject was to punish, and, if possible, capture the Nawab of Jhujjur; but before effecting this we moved about the country, "showing our muscle," to use a slang phrase, and thereby dispersing stray bands of marauders, and instilling confidence into the quietly disposed people of the agricultural classes.
During the suppression of the Mutiny, a campaign which was unique and unlike any other, the iron bands of discipline were, in some respects, not so tightly drawn as usual, and many things happened which would now be impossible. For instance, it was not at all unheard of for an enterprising officer, with no other sanction than that of his commanding officer, to take a small party of mounted men and start off on the prowl in search of adventures. Very frequently he found them, and took good care, in view of the irregularity of his proceedings, that no report of them reached the General. On some such occasion, a captain who was doing duty with us, and who was well-known for his eccentricity, almost vergingon insanity, his fearlessness, and his unsparing thirst for vengeance against the mutineers, found himself, with a squad of sixteen or twenty men, many miles from camp, in front of the gateway of a walled enclosure, inside which were about forty rebel sepoys who, relying on their distance from danger, had taken no precautions against surprise, and were quietly cooking their dinner. H—— took in the situation at once. "Halt!" he shouted in a stentorian voice, to his men, adding in Hindustani "Only twenty men follow me into the gate. Let the rest of the regiment remain outside." "Throw down your arms in that corner," he roared to the terror-stricken sepoys. "Gather together in the opposite corner, and be quick about it, or I will slay you all." He was immediately obeyed. "Now," said he, "I see among you a number of men older than the others, whom they have probably led astray. Drive them out from among you, that I may destroy them." The miserable cowards of young men instantly thrust out the older ones,struggling and fighting for dear life: and H—— and his party fell on them and killed them.
Then turning to the traitorous remnant, "What dirt have you eaten! Oh children of owls!" and he "smote them also, hip and thigh."
Before utterly and unreservedly condemning this undoubtedly savage action, I would beg the reader to remember that in this Mutiny war no quarter was given on either side. We looked, and rightly looked, upon the mutineers, not as honest enemies, but as foul and cruel murderers for whom to die by the sword was too good a fate, and whose only fit end was on the gallows. If they had confined themselves to a revolt against the Government, and in attempting it had slaughtered their officers and all men who tried to suppress it, they would not have placed themselves outside the pale of mercy; but since they had butchered our defenceless women and children, we would have been more than human, we would have been less than men, if we hadnot exterminated them as men kill snakes whenever we met them. H—— well knew that if he did not destroy these sepoys they would destroy him. The slightest hesitation on his part, and they would have sprung to arms, and being caught like rats in a trap, would have fought with the energy of despair. Their muskets against our men's swords would have given their superior numbers a decisive advantage. We should undoubtedly have lost several men, and would probably have been driven back. From this nothing but the prompt and clever strategy adopted by H—— saved his party. With all this, it is impossible to avoid a feeling of regret that this incident should have occurred.