Everything was now done by the garrison to strengthen its position. Barricades were erected at all available points, the defences of the Residency were improved, and every building put into a state of defence. One of the greatest dangers the British had to guard against was the enemy’s mines, which threatened the position from every possible quarter. The garrison had always to be on the alert, and were constantly employed in counter-mining. In this they were very successful, and managed to thwart the rebels at almost every point.
In regard to the mining operations, Sir James Outram, who was now in chief command, wrote:—“I am aware of no parallel to our series of mines in modern war; 21 shafts, aggregating 200 feet in depth, and 3291 feet of gallery, have been erected. The enemy advanced 20 mines against the palace and outpost.”
The 78th regiment, as it always did, played a prominent part in the defence, and were posted in a range of houses which were constantly under the heavy rebel musketry fire. The walls of the houses were riddled, but the Highlanders never flinched, and kept thousands of the fierce mutineers at bay. Day by day the siege dragged on, and scarcely a day passed but there was some assault or sortie. The rebels were being strongly reinforced by flying squads of mutineers from all parts, who were content to serve where they were safest in point of numbers. As yet they had made no impression on the garrison, but their numbers were becoming so numerous that Outram and Havelock became extremely anxious.
It is always when the cloud is at its blackest that the silver lining appears, and a message, whether it was false or true, reached the Residency that relief was near at hand. The soldiers cheered, and vowed to keep the flag flying.
Cooped up in the beleagured city of Lucknow, the brave Havelock received but scanty news of what was transpiring in other parts of India. He certainly felt assured that the British Government would never leave him in that hopeless position, so he settled down to make the best of his situation and keep the rebels in check. It was a trying time for Outram and Havelock, for almost daily the death-roll was increased through wounds or disease.
Meanwhile Brigadier Greathed had been marching through the country, inflicting severe punishment on the mutineers who had fled from Delhi, where the British had won a great victory. The Mhow and Indore rebels were crushed at Agra, and the column which latterly moved from Mynpooree under command of Sir James Hope Grant, arrived at Cawnpore to hear of the precarious position of the British garrison at Lucknow. After one or two minor engagements, in which he inflicted some loss upon the rebels, Sir James determined to proceed to Lucknow, and attempt with his small force to relieve the city.
On 8th November, 1857, he arrived at the famous Alum Bagh, where Havelock had left his sick and wounded under the protection of the 64th regiment. Between this strong position and Lucknow there lay a large undulating plain, intersected by the canal which encircles the city. Yet that plain could notbe traversed, for it was given over to the camping ground of a huge company of rebels. The mutinous force before Lucknow must have numbered almost 50,000, so that the task of relief was rendered impossible to the small British force. It seemed galling that relief could not be given, with the Residency such a short distance away, but it would only have been courting annihilation to attempt to pierce the serried rebel ranks. Therefore Hope Grant took up his position at the Alum Bagh to wait for reinforcements, and to be at hand should Havelock require aid. The two British forces were vastly outnumbered by the enemy, and it has never been satisfactorily explained why the rebels did not attack the Alum Bagh. The position was certainly a strong one, but the mutineers could with ease have invested it from all quarters, and at the same time maintained their pressure upon Lucknow. Possibly they had grown tired of fruitless besieging, and, confident in their numerical superiority, preferred to lie passively on the plain and wait for the attack.
Hope Grant knew that he would not have long to wait, for before leaving Cawnpore he was informed that the dashing and fiery Sir Colin Campbell was on the warpath, and was hastening as fast as he possibly could to form a junction with the troops in Oude, which now comprised Outram and Havelock’s pent-up force in Lucknow and Sir Hope Grant’s column at the Alum Bagh. Sir Colin, while travelling post haste to Cawnpore, ran a very narrow escape. He was impatient to get at the rebels, and, disregarding an escort, hurried on. He came across a detachment of the rebellious 32nd regiment, and was all but captured, having to take refuge in a post bungalow, where luckily he found some of our soldiers, who were resting after a heavy march. Ultimately he reached Cawnpore, and without further delay marched to Lucknow, where he now knew he should join Hope Grant. This desired junction was effected on 11th November, and Sir Colin immediately assumed command of the Lucknow relief force.
This relieving army was now considerably strengthened, and Sir Colin, trusting to active conjunction by Outram and Havelock from the Residency, determined to make the attack. His force consisted of the 9th Lancers, Captain Peel’s naval brigade, Sikh cavalry, Hodson’s Horse, 8th, 53rd, 75th, and 93rd regiments of infantry, two battalions of Punjaub foot, native sappers and miners, 10 guns of the horse artillery, 6 light field guns, and the heavy field battery of the Royal Artillery. Sir Colin left his baggage at the Alum Bagh in charge of the 75th, and was further reinforced by 700 men drawn from the Welsh Fusiliers and the 82nd Foot, two guns of the Madras artillery, along with a body of the Royal Artillery and Engineers. Thecommander-in-chief advanced from the Alum Bagh in the direction of Dilkhoosha Park (“Heart’s Delight”), a former hunting seat of the kings of Oude, with a castle situated on a beautiful eminence in the park. The advanced guard, which had been further strengthened by some companies of the 5th, 64th, and 78th Highlanders under Colonel Hamilton of the 78th, was soon brought into contact with the enemy, and, steadily advancing, was subjected to a heavy musketry fire from the rebels. The vanguard, however, cleared away this opposition, and drove the mutineers over the canal which runs through the park. The rebels fell back upon the Martinière College, but were unable to withstand the fire from our guns. This building was splendidly adapted for defence, standing secure and firm in the centre of a large thicket of mango trees. The enemy seemed to be terrorised by the steadiness of our advance, and abandoned the College after a short conflict, in which they lost heavily. The mutineers seemed to have a wholesome dread of the Highlanders with their kilts and terrible bayonets. Many of them had never seen such men before, and were terrified by their appearance. They called them “petticoated devils,” and many firmly believed that they were women sent over to avenge Cawnpore. At all events, the Highlanders were there, and they did much to strike terror into the hearts of the cowardly rebels.
The College having been so easily won, Sir Colin made the park his headquarters. Sir James Outram and Sir Henry Havelock were not idle inside the city, the force being busily employed in digging trenches and erecting batteries in a large garden held by the 90th regiment. These were concealed by a lofty wall, under which several mines were driven for the purpose of blowing it down when the moment for action should arise. It was determined by the Generals that as soon as Sir Colin and his force should reach the Secunder Bagh, this wall should be blown down, and that the batteries should open fire upon the insurgent defences in front, when the troops would storm the Hera Khanah, the steam-engine house, and the king’s stables.
Sir Colin had meanwhile arranged his force in the gardens to the best possible advantage as far as safeguarding against any attack, and being in readiness to make a dash for Lucknow at any time. On the 12th an attack was made upon his advance guard by a determined band of rebels. The field battery and Captain Peel’s heavy guns came into action, and did great execution amongst the enemy. After the artillery had done its work, the 53rd and 93rd Highlanders, along with the 4th Sikhs, charged the enemy in daring style, causing them to break rank and fly. The 9th Lancers kept up the pursuit, and almost for the first time the rebels received a taste of the deadly lance.The rear guard now moved up, and a junction was formed nearer and ever nearer the city. At last Sir Colin determined to advance, and, as per arrangement his route was by way of the Secunder Bagh.
This is a strongly-fortified building, surrounded by a wall which was loopholed in every direction, fairly bristling with rifle muzzles. Brigadier Adrian Hope led the troops forward in skirmishing order, and this was the signal for a heavy fire from the enemy’s guns. The British guns were quickly brought up by Captains Blunt and Travers, and replied vigorously to the enemy’s fire. While this artillery duel was in progress, Hope made a dash at the head of his infantry, and drove the enemy from the boundary walls of the Secunder Bagh into the main fortified building. It was here that the last stand was to be made, and the rebels knew that if they had to surrender there was no hope of mercy, for they were caught like rats in a trap. To the left of the Secunder Bagh the enemy held a line of barracks, which, in the possession of a trained force, might have offered great resistance. The Sutherland Highlanders, supported by a company of the 53rd, rushed the building, and at the point of the bayonet drove the enemy helter-skelter from the position to the plain beyond, where the majority of them were killed. All had been success to Sir Colin’s brave army up to now, and it was with a cheer that the men rushed to storm the Secunder Bagh, which was teeming with well-armed and desperate rebels.
Havelock had in the meantime exploded his mine, and through the breach his battery opened a withering fire upon the enemy’s defences. Volley after volley was poured in, and this gave Sir Colin’s troops the opportunity to make a great attack from his point of vantage. The 4th Sikhs, led by Lieutenant Paul, who fell while gallantly rushing forward, had the honour of opening the assault, while the 93rd and 53rd acted as supports. The Highlanders and Sikhs are staunch friends, and might be seen during this campaign going about camp arm-in-arm, the Sikh with the Scotchman’s feather bonnet, and the Scot with his dusky comrade’s turban. It is even related that they petitioned their captains to procure the Highland dress for them. It was but fitting then that the Sikhs and Highlanders should share the honours of this glorious attack.
Forward the Sikhs rushed, amid a hail of bullets, with the Highlanders close behind. The rebel fire was terrible, for they knew this was their last chance, and they could not expect mercy from our revengeful troops. A small breach had been made in the wall, but it was so narrow that only a handful of men could enter at a time. This did not deter our men, and the Highlanders, just a little bit jealous of the Sikhs that theyshould be the first to enter, ran a neck-and-neck race to the breach through the hail of bullets. They dashed up to the very loopholes, and from the gaining of this position the fate of the rebels may be said to have been sealed. The Sikhs, 93rd, 53rd, and the 90th Highlanders clustered round the doomed building.
The well-known author, Rees, gives a graphic account of the situation.
“Our men,” he writes, “dashed in as quickly as the narrow breach permitted. They went under the very loopholes of the enemy, and, cunningly lying down while the enemy let fly a volley at the caps placed on their bayonets, and which our men put up as a target for the time being, they as soon as the enemy’s fire was exhausted, and before they could load again, tore down the iron bars, broke up the barricades, and jumped down from the windows in the walls.”
Then followed a terrible slaughter, for the rebels were so thoroughly cowed that they offered but little resistance. Here and there one more brave than his fellows would fire his rifle or attack with his tulwar. A bullet in his brain, or the terrible bayonet through his breast soon silenced him. The Highlanders were reeking in blood. Their faces were bespattered by drawing their gory hands over their perspiring foreheads as they momentarily paused in the conflict.
“This is awful!” exclaimed one soldier of the 93rd to his neighbour.
“G’wa, man! this is grand!” and he plunged his bayonet into a cringing wretch who begged for mercy. “Cawnpore, ye deevil!” he hissed, and turned to renew his work of slaughter.
It was the memory of Cawnpore that roused the Highlanders, and the Sikhs were every bit as bloodthirsty. The gateway, the large principal room, and a side room were deluged in blood, and littered with reeking corpses. The green tartan of the 93rd was of scarlet hue ere many hours had passed. The full extent of the silent slaughter with the bayonet may be judged when it is stated that nearly 3000 bodies were dragged from the building on the following day. Cawnpore was avenged with interest.
The troops of the garrison had also been doing brave deeds. Fully 800 of the garrison had attacked other parts of the defences. Men like the 78th Highlanders were spoiling for a charge, and how they rushed upon their foes! The rebels reeled before the shock, and fled, leaving the buildings in our hands. Guns were mounted on the position thus gained, and on the following day opened fire on the observatory (Tara Kotee) and the mess house. Captain Peel’s naval siege train went to the front, and drew up within a few yards of the loopholed wallof the Shah Nujuf, where a heavy and merciless fire was kept up upon the rebel defenders. After the mess house had been battered by our heavy guns, recourse was once more had to the bayonet, which was never known to fail. Nor did it on this occasion, for the position was soon gained and the enemy put to flight.
The task of relief was nearly completed, and madly our men rushed into the enclosure round the Motee Mahal (Pearl Palace), where the rebels made their last despairing stand. It was futile on their part to attempt to stem the rushes of the victorious British troops. They went down like grain before the sickle, and those who steered clear of the bayonet gave vent to yells of terror and fled to the plains, which were already dotted with bands of fugitives. The slaughter of the rebels had been enormous, but yet the killing of a few thousands did not diminish to any great extent the rebel horde which had ignominiously retreated to a place of shelter. The killed and wounded were but as a drop in the bucket, and although Lucknow was for the moment relieved, trouble was yet to be expected from the mutineers who clustered round the city.
Proudly Sir Colin met and grasped the hands of the fearless Outram and the gallant Havelock. With flashing eyes Havelock praised and thanked the relieving and defending troops. It was pointed out to him that his son was lying wounded, but the old warrior continued his address, although his heart must have been rent with anxiety about his son. Fortunately it was only a slight wound, and the lad soon recovered, but the incident shows Havelock as the soldier, who thought it his duty to thank his soldiers before attending to his wounded son. Our great success had not been attended without loss, for we had 122 officers and men killed, and 345 wounded. Sir Colin’s first care was for his wounded, and after consultation with Havelock and Outram, he decided to remove the toil-worn garrison to a place of safety. It was evident that it was not worth while to hold the position against such a large investing army.
The tactics which he employed in carrying out a safe retreat show the wily old Sir Colin in his best colours. He was not afraid to meet the enemy again at the head of his brave troops, but, burdened with women, children, wounded and stores, he sought to avoid a conflict, and this is how he managed it.
On the 20th and 21st, he ordered Captain Peel’s battery to open a heavy fire upon the Kaiser Bagh, and at the same time Havelock’s battery in the palaces opened a tremendous fire upon the same position. Naturally the enemy expected an attack upon this point, and consequently concentrated there. The strategic old General bargained for this, and he silently withdrew the whole garrison. The retreat was managed withouta hitch, and the force marched on with Sir Colin in the rear to direct any attack upon the force. The enemy at last learned of the move, and tried to turn the rear at the Alum Bagh but failed. On arriving at that place, Sir Colin pushed on with his charges to Cawnpore, where he fought a decisive battle, which is described in the chapter dealing with Cawnpore. He left Sir James Outram behind with a strong force to check any movement on the part of the rebels.
The British camp was unexpectedly thrown into mourning through the death of Sir Henry Havelock. This brave and Christian General was worn out with the hardships and anxiety of the campaign and siege, and was stricken down with dysentry, to which he succumbed on the 24th November. Safe to say, there was no British officer so genuinely loved and respected by the rank and file. They adored him, and gladly would have died for him, and now that he was gone, they mourned him as only true friends can mourn.
Lucknow had now become the focus of the rebels, who were flying aimlessly about the country, avoiding actual conflict with British troops. Sir James Outram’s division numbered almost 4000 men of all arms, and he took up a strong position, being fortified at all points, the circuit of his entire position being nearly ten miles. Here the force remained for nearly three months, while Sir Colin, after retaking Cawnpore, was engaged recovering the Doab and making his final preparations for a final assault upon Lucknow.
These months were full of anxiety for Outram and his men, for they had to be continually on the alert against a mammoth army, which must have numbered close upon 100,000. Against less skilfully prepared fortifications they might have, by sheer force of numbers, overwhelmed the British, but, like whipped curs, they preferred to keep at a safe distance, and harry the British when opportunity came their way. They made one feint bolder than their usual, which had for its object the surrounding of the force and the cutting off of supplies. Outram got to know of the scheme, and checkmated them at every point. Although vastly outnumbered, our force repelled every attack, and inflicted heavy loss upon the mutineers, besides capturing four guns and twelve ammunition waggons.
News came that Sir Colin was once again upon the march, and although the troops under Outram were confident that they could hold back the rebels for ever, they were glad at the prospect of being reinforced and led into the field by the great Sir Colin. He matured his plans carefully, and adopted a line of action which he thought would entail as little loss upon his army as was possible. With this end in view, he sent out strong detachments to all parts, with instructions to meet himat all costs at Lucknow on a certain date. Thus Sir Hugh Rose, General Hope Grant, and Colonel McCausland scoured the country and achieved several notable victories.
But perhaps the most glorious and decisive victory was gained by Brigadier Franks at the head of a force of 4000 troops. He contrived to prevent a junction with two noted rebel leaders, Bund Hossein and Mhendee Hossein, by attacking the former at Chanda, in the Nagpore territory. The enemy, consisting of 8500 sepoys and a large number of mercenaries, occupied the fort and villages in front of the place. They were driven from this place, leaving behind 300 killed, along with six pieces of cannon. Franks prepared to encamp in this position, when he was surprised to hear the discharge of artillery, and a volley of grape shot crashed into his lines.
The other Hossein, unaware of his relative’s defeat, had come up with 10,000 men and eight guns. Franks gave him battle, and in a very short time the rebel had to seek safety in flight. Later, he fought another battle with 25,000 desperadoes, including 5000 trained sepoys, his force being 2500 Europeans supported by 3000 Nepaulese. He totally defeated them, and the enemy fled, leaving a rajah and 1800 dead on the field. Twenty guns, the standing camp, baggage, ammunition, and all material of war were captured. It was almost a bloodless battle as far as Franks was concerned, for, incredible as it may appear, he only lost two men killed and three wounded.
Sir Colin marched from Cawnpore on the 28th February, 1858, at the head of almost 30,000 troops, including about 20,000 Europeans. He had 60 heavy guns and 40 field pieces, while his cavalry consisted of 1500 Europeans and 3000 native troopers. This imposing force was still further augmented by the infusion of 4500 men under the redoubtable Franks, and fully 10,000 fierce and wiry Ghoorka warriors under the loyal Jung Bahadoor. The savage rebels knew that a big force was to be set against them, and they realised that every man would die if he fell into the hands of the British. Rumours spread in their ranks that great, red-haired men who were giants, with bare knees, were coming to kill them, and the chiefs had great difficulty in preventing them from fleeing.
Campbell appeared with the 2nd Division of infantry, cavalry, and a section of artillery at a position east of the Alum Bagh on 2nd March, and on the following day the attack on Lucknow commenced, the enemy abandoning Dilkhoosha, and falling back on the Martinière College. The Dilkhoosha was instantly occupied by the 42nd Highlanders (Black Watch), and a battery was soon at work from this position on the Secunder Bagh. Sir Colin, gratified at the arrival of Franks and the Ghoorkas,resolved to make attacks from the river Goomtee, which flows past the city. A pontoon bridge was thrown across, and 6000 men and 30 pieces of cannon, under Sir James Outram, passed over. The enemy, as was expected, came out of the city in large numbers to check this force.
A heavy artillery fire and a dashing charge of the Queen’s Bays sent the rebels back, and Outram was able to strengthen his position. It was an artillery duel during the next two days, the enemy’s stronghold, the Martinière College, suffering severely from our shells. Outram had made good his position, however, for he advanced along the Fyzabad road, and, although meeting with stout and desperate resistance, he gained his end, which was the Badshah Bagh, or King’s Great Garden, from which his guns had free play upon the whole line of entrenchments formed by the rebels at the canal, rendering them practically useless, besides turning the rebels’ entire position.
Sir Colin now had up the naval brigade to deal with the buildings within the enclosure, from the windows of which the rebels kept up a harassing and deadly rifle fire. The mortars, howitzers, and battery guns had little effect, as the rebels, now fighting for dear life, remained wonderfully steady in the trenches.
“A taste of the steel, my men!” grimly exclaimed Sir Colin, as he turned to the Highlanders and Sikhs.
They steadied, and then, at the word, went forward in one silent, death-dealing line of steel. This was too much for the rebels, who fired a few random shots and fled, with the swift-footed Sikhs stabbing them as they ran. The Martinière was won by the bayonet, and with the chief rebel position there also fell the Residency, the Secunder Bagh and Bank House. The Highlanders were once again conspicuous at the Secunder Bagh, which had withstood the thunders of the naval brigade guns. Two companies of Highlanders reached a platform, and were brought to a stop by the dead wall.
“Tear off the tiles! in at the roof, Highlanders!” cried Sir Colin.
This was enough for the brave fellows, and in a minute they had vanished through the tiles and bamboo, and thus the Secunder Bagh was taken.
The enemy by this time were in almost total rout, and Hope Grant swept the surrounding country, cutting up the fleeing bands, while the artillery continued to blaze away at the buildings still infested by the desperate robbers and rebels. The Sutherland Highlanders, with dauntless courage, stormed the Begum’s Palace, and swept aside the defenders with their trusty bayonets, which reeked with blood. The gallant Outram held the Goomtee Bridge, and cut up the flying enemy unmercifully,while the Kaiser Bagh, which was almost an impregnable position in capable hands, fell easily, the rebels fleeing out of the city on the opposite side, only to be ruthlessly cut down by Sir Hope Grant’s thousand sabres. The gallant little Ghoorkas won their spurs by the capture of the whole line of trenches which menaced the Alum Bagh, where our sick and wounded had been left.
“It was terrible,” writes an eye-witness, “to see the ferocity of the Ghoorkas as they sprang at their foes. They inflicted horrible wounds, but so strong are their arms, it was death every blow.”
On the 19th of March, the Moosa Bagh, the last stronghold of the rebels, fell, and Lucknow was completely in our hands. Fighting still took place with large bands of rebels on the outskirts, but they were generally so demoralised that they fell an easy prey.
We cannot close this eventful chapter without detailing a gallant stand made by a slender detachment of that grand old regiment, the 42nd Black Watch. Forty-eight men of the regiment were watching a ford on the river Sardaar, which separates Oude from Rohileund. The notorious rebel Kirput Sing of Rooyat crossed at the head of 2000 men, with two guns, and at once opened fire on the little band. They did not flinch, but stood at their post from sunrise to sunset, when two more companies came to their rescue and made their victory complete. The enemy left 400 dead on the field, including Kirput Sing, his son and brother, along with two guns. Of the 48, five were killed and eleven wounded, including the gallant Captain Lawson.
By deeds such as these Lucknow was won, and the rebels dispersed and driven from Oude. By deeds such as these has the Empire been made, and such deeds of valour are never forgotten, but written in letters of gold on Britain’s scroll of fame.
When the spirit of revolt in our Indian Empire first spread abroad, there can be little doubt but that the minds of the mutineers were inflamed by headmen or chiefs who had a natural antipathy to Britain and everything British. We have seen how the rebels at Delhi behaved basely and treacherously, but it was the same all over the Empire. The natives in general had one common bond of union—a growing sense of distrust,and a fixed and firm apprehension that some danger menaced the religion of the Hindoo and Mohammedan alike. They were also imbued with the gross idea that either the British must be killed off root and branch throughout India, or that the followers of the Prophet or Menou must inevitably be swallowed up in Christianity. Anglo-Indian society remained oblivious to the threatening danger, despising the natives, and never dreaming of the power they would possess in the event of a combined mutiny.
Writing of this apathy, a writer in the “Delhi Gazette” of the time writes as follows:—“Dazzled by the brilliant facility of their past triumphs, they brought themselves to believe in a peculiar mission like the ancient Hebrews; and blindly trusting in their special Providence, neglected all ordinary human precautions for securing the safety and permanence of their position. They knew that there was an evil spirit abroad, but they took no steps to disabuse men’s minds until the mischief was done. They made no preparation against the coming tempest though the sea-birds on the shore were shrilly screaming, though a black murky spot was already visible on the horizon, though the hoarse murmur of the storm was breathing heavily on the darkening waters; so no one armed himself against the day of battle. Suddenly a spark was applied to the train laid by many hands, and in a moment of time all was death, desolation and despair.”
Such undoubtedly was the case, but the native mind must have been inflamed to an extraordinary degree before the men who wore the British uniform, and who had sworn fealty to the Crown, could have descended to such vile acts of treachery as at Cawnpore and Delhi. It was at Meerut that this slumbering antipathy and racial hatred, which caused so much bloodshed and suffering first broke out. Colonel Finnis, of the 11th Native Infantry, was there shot through the back by a treacherous sepoy, and a hundred bayonets were plunged into his body.
This was the inauguration of the work of mutiny and blood, and all through India the spirit of antipathy animated the mutinous soldiers to deeds of Oriental barbarity. At Ferozepore, the 45th and 57th Native Infantry set the buildings on fire and committed several acts of bloodshed. At Murdaun, where the 55th Regiment (Ochterlony’s men) mutinied, Colonel Spottiswoode, who loved and trusted them, was so affected that he shot himself in despair. At Allyghar, brave Captain Hayes was betrayed and hacked to pieces. At Bareilly the infuriated fanatics turned upon their officers and killed and wounded in every direction.
While at Shahjehanpore the 28th Bengal Infantry mutinied while their officers were at church. The Rev. Mr. M‘Callumwas shot as he ascended the pulpit, Lieutenant Spens was sabred while he knelt at prayer, Dr. Bowling was shot as he was driving his wife and child to the church, while Mr. Ricketts, the magistrate of the station, was killed in cold blood. The women and children were promised every protection, and were actually allowed to leave the station. They were compelled to walk, and, on alighting, the fiends disregarded all their promises by bayonetting the helpless women and dashing out the brains of the children upon the ground, besides killing all the officers who had accompanied their women under the promise of protection. At Seetapore, Neemuch, Hansi, Benares and Sultanpore the same things occurred, the officers being slain without being given an opportunity to defend themselves, while the women and children and private citizens were ruthlessly massacred.
But of all the gross crimes committed during this trying time, when the flame of mutiny was spreading like wildfire through the country, there were none of such a treacherous character as that of the mutiny of the 6th Regiment of the Bengal army at Allahabad. That regiment had fought gallantly in many a field, as its colours signified, for they bore the names “Mysore,” “Bhurtpore,” and “Cabul.” Allahabad is a fortified city at the junction of the Ganges with the Jumna, and the fort is constructed in a strong position on a tongue of land at the confluence of the two streams.
The 6th were lying at this fort or at the cantonments as might be required, and when they heard of the mutinies at Meerut and Delhi, at once volunteered to march against the latter city. They were thanked for their offer, and the officers commanding the regiment never imagined that their men would become disaffected. A rumour became general throughout the town, however, that the regiment was about to mutiny, and what did the treacherous sepoys do but approach the officers, and, says a writer of the day, “with tears in their eyes entreated them to have implicit trust in their fidelity.” The scene that ensued would not have disgraced the early days of the first French Revolution.
The officers and men fraternised in the most loving manner. Perfect confidence appeared to be established on both sides; but, before nightfall stragglers from other stations arrived, who worked up the credulous fools to frenzy. They were told that the Christian Queen’s troops were marching all over the country, destroying all who refused to become Christians. The soldiers had been wavering, and very little required to turn them into perfect demons, inflamed with the one desire, namely massacre and safety in flight. That same evening, about half-past nine, while the officers were in the mess bungalow, calm in a senseof security, they were suddenly startled to hear the bugles sounding the alarm.
With blanching faces they turned out of the bungalow, but the foremost fell with a bullet in his brain, and the work of mutiny had commenced. The mutineers rushed about like veritable demons, slaying and killing whoever dared to impede them. The officers made a gallant attempt to reach the shelter of the fort at the riverside, and a few actually managed to elude the maddened mutineers, but fourteen officers, including nine young ensigns of the 6th, were brutally massacred, and their bodies subjected to terrible maltreatment.
A detachment of the 6th, with two guns, was posted at the pontoon bridge to stop the progress of the mutineers from Benares, who were expected to come to Allahabad. A garden midway between that point and the fort was occupied by about 150 men of the Oude Irregular Cavalry, under Lieutenant Alexander, who was posted there for the same purpose. When the men of the 6th at the bridge heard the sound of the bugles, they at once divined the cause, and turned the two guns in the direction of the city, also firing upon the artillery officer, who bravely dashed off amidst the shower of bullets to warn Alexander of his danger.
Meanwhile the officers of the detachment managed to effect their escape in the dark, although they were repeatedly shot at. Lieutenant Alexander, getting together as many men as could saddle, came dashing up, sword in hand, but was shot through the heart by one of the rebels. The artillery officer, being unsupported, saw that his life was in jeopardy, turned his horse, and galloped to the fort. The garrison of the fort consisted of about 70 European invalids, the Sikh Ferozepore regiment to the number of about 400, about 80 sepoys of the mutinous 6th regiment, along with a number of European volunteers from the city. It was out of the question to trust the men of the 6th, so the officers at once disarmed them, and found that, contrary to orders, they had loaded their rifles, which no doubt they intended to use upon the officers. They were turned out in an unarmed state, and joined their infuriated comrades in the streets of the town.
The mutineers, after looting and wrecking the cantonments, proceeded in a body to the great prison, where they easily overpowered the guards and forced an entrance. Indian prisons at the time were generally crammed full of thieves and vagabonds who could well and fitly be classed “the greatest scum on earth,” and the great prison of Allahabad was no exception to the rule. The mutineers released them speedily, and the prisoners were nothing loth to join the sepoys in the work of havoc and death. There were about 3000 prisoners released,and, along with the soldiers, they marched through the streets, and carried death and destruction on their march. Captain Birch, the adjutant of the fort, and Lieutenant Innes of the Engineers, chanced to be outside when the mutiny happened, and they were caught by the rebels and shot.
A worse fate befel an officer of the 6th, who chanced to fall alive into the hands of the savages—for such undoubtedly the soldiers had become. He was pinned to the earth by bayonets and a fire kindled round his body, and thus he was slowly roasted to death as his own men danced around him and mocked his agony. The European residents who chanced to fall into the hands of the mutineers were horribly outraged before death mercifully released them from their tortures. At least fifty white men and women perished in their houses or on the streets. Some were cut to pieces by slow degrees, the nose, ears, lips, and fingers being first cut off, and then the limbs hacked off by the tulwars of the rebels. An entire family was burned alive, and little children were destroyed before the eyes of agonised parents. Houses were wrecked, and choice articles either carried off or destroyed in the maddest spirit of destruction and hate.
Five officers had reached the shelter of the fort by swimming the Ganges, and three of them were in a state of nudity. The little garrison lay under arms in the fort for five days and nights, watching the infuriated sepoys rushing hither and thither, maddened and desperate, many of them being under the influence of the native spirit called “Chang,” which seems to steal away any little sense the ordinary sepoy may have.
The big guns in the fort were brought to bear upon bands of rebels who ventured too near, and many were killed in this way, while the sharpshooters on the walls picked off a number who came within range. The city volunteers, composed for the most part of railroad men, were formed into three small companies and officered. This added to the numerical strength of the garrison, and Colonel Neill at Benares, hearing of the outbreak at Allahabad, sent on about 50 men of the Madras Fusiliers, while he himself hurried to the scene of the mutiny at the head of 40 more, covering the seventy miles of country which lay between the two cities in two nights in light carriages. He found on arrival at Allahabad that the mutineers had grown tired of looting and killing, in fact, the 6th had marched out of the town with drums beating.
Neill, at the head of his Fusiliers, speedily cleared the suburbs, and had for his opponent a Mohammedan Mollah, who had unfurled the green flag of the Prophet and proclaimed himself Vice-Regent of the King of Delhi. He had collected a large band of ruffians, and occupied an entrenched position inthe town. At the head of only 200 men, with a few guns, Neill marched out of the fort and attacked the Mollah’s forces so suddenly, and with such vigour, that the rebels broke and fled in all directions, pursued by the energetic Fusiliers, who put many to death.
Meanwhile, the scene inside the fort was a sad one, cholera breaking out, and many also perished from sunstroke. Over seventy fighting men lost their lives through disease, and twenty were buried at one funeral. The shrieks of the insane and the dying rang through the fort, and the 200 fugitive European women were in a sad plight. However, when once Neill with his small force got thoroughly to work in the streets, he rapidly cleared the rebels out of the city, and the fugitives were able to return to their wrecked homes. The mortality was very high for a time, but gradually the disease got stamped out, and Allahabad became free and latterly welcomed Sir Henry Havelock and his Highlanders on their march to Lucknow.
The 10th Native Infantry, while the foregoing events were occurring, were stationed at Futtehghur, a town on the west bank of the Ganges. This regiment was every whit as famous in Indian warfare as the 6th, who had run amok at Allahabad, bearing on their colours the battles of Buxar and Korah.
In June, 1857, the whole regiment broke out into open mutiny, forced the gaol and released all the prisoners. This was surprising in the extreme, as only a few days previous the men of the 10th had informed their officers of a plan which the 41st regiment at Seetapore had proposed to them in the event of the mutiny. They had even gone the length of destroying the pontoon bridge, so as to prevent any rebels from crossing to Futtehghur. No sooner did the 41st arrive after their mutiny at Seetapore, than the 10th regiment, with a company of artillery and two guns, marched to the Nawab, whom they placed on the throne, laying the British colours at his feet, and firing a salute of 21 guns. The battalion of the 10th were split into two sections, those who were Purbees crossing at once to Oude, with the obvious intention of returning to their homes. They were accompanied by a Captain Bignell, who was killed on the way. Others went off on foraging expeditions in small bands, and many who remained were murderedby the men of the 41st, because the men of that regiment were refused a share of the public treasure.
The garrison at Futtehghur was but a small one, in fact there were only about thirty men capable of bearing arms, and these brave fellows prepared to defend the seventy odd women and children against the attacks of the mutineers. The forces exchanged shots with big guns, and latterly the sepoys crept behind the sheltering bushes, and peppered the defenders with a heavy musketry fire, which did no harm. On the following day the persistent rebels, under cover of their artillery fire, were seen approaching with ladders, which they attempted to set up against the walls. Fortunately the men inside the fort were good marksmen, and were successful in shooting down the bearers of the ladders as they approached.
For four consecutive days the enemy’s guns and rifles continued to play upon the fort, and there were several ineffectual attempts to scale the walls. The rebels adopted a new plan on the fifth day, as the riflemen took up positions on the roofs of houses within range. This fire was most deadly, and four of the little garrison were wounded. They next loopholed the walls, and kept up a steady fire at any of the garrison who showed his head above the wall to fire the cannon. Mr. Jones and Colonel Tucker were killed in this manner. On the following day, Conductor Aherne, with one single discharge of grape, was successful in blowing a dozen of the rebels away from the wall of a woodyard.
The rebels then fell into a trap, for after they had cut a hole into this place, the defenders allowed them to enter one by one. When a sufficient number were in, a well-directed shot was thrown amongst them, doing great damage. The place was then set on fire about their ears, and many perished. Frustrated in this attempt, the rebels now commenced a mine, at which they worked in secret for two nights and then sprung it. The report was awful, and the fort was shaken to its very foundations, but no lives were lost.
A breach was, however, made in the walls, and the sepoys were preparing to escalade it, when they were forced to retire under a heavy musketry fire, through which they lost several men. Later in the day they made a second attempt, with no better result, although the garrison lost one of its best gunners in the person of Conductor Aherne, who was shot through the head in laying a gun.
Maddened by such frequent failure, and eager to get at the garrison for the purpose of massacre, the mutineers got a gun into position, and started to fire upon the bungalow which they knew contained the women and children. A number of shots passed through the door, but extra precautions had beenhurriedly taken, and the balls were stopped by a heavy timber barricade. Two of the enemy’s guns were dismounted, but still the rebels kept up the attack upon the wearied garrison, and, finding all their attempts useless, started to sink a second mine close to the position of the first. This was a serious outlook, for if a second breach was made, the rebels would make two different attacks, and the defenders were too few to repel the rebels in large numbers at two different places.
They looked for a means of escape, and the only possible way that presented itself was the river, which flowed past the fort. They could not stay in the fort, for it simply meant that sooner or later they would be all savagely butchered, so the brave men who had guarded the women and children so faithfully and well, determined that under cover of night they would make the attempt. The ladies and children were divided into three parties, and at midnight they silently quitted the fort in which they had spent so many anxious and perilous nights. Quickly they took their places in the respective boats, and then an officer went round to call in the pickets, who had previously spiked the guns and destroyed the ammunition.
At two o’clock on the morning of the 4th July, the fugitives shoved off, and congratulated themselves in making their escape unobserved. They could not foresee the end, nor could they rend the veil and know the dreadful fate that was in store for them. The sepoys had not their eyes shut, for no sooner had the boats passed the walls of the fort than the cry rang out, “The Feringhees are escaping.” They ran along the bank, firing at the boats, which fortunately were out of range, and the fugitives had gone down the river about a mile without mishap when it was found that the boat which contained Colonel Goldie, his wounded daughter, and other delicate sufferers was too heavy to be managed, so all the occupants had to be transferred to the boat under the command of Colonel Smith. This was safely accomplished, although the sepoys brought a cannon into play. The boats proceeded down midstream, with the sepoys in attendance, shouting and firing from the bank.
At the village of Singheerampore they had to lie-to to repair a broken rudder, and two men were killed by a shot from the bank. Further misfortune was in store for the fugitives, as the other boat grounded on a sandbank, and all the efforts of the men to move her failed. A panic seized the occupants of the craft, and when two boatloads of sepoys were seen approaching, the women and children became frantic, and when the sepoys opened fire they threw themselves into the water rather than fall into the murderous hands of the sepoys. All the ladies were soon struggling in the water, with the exception of a Mrs. Fitzgerald, who remained in the boat withher child, while her husband stood over her with musket loaded and bayonet fixed. A few of the occupants of the boat escaped by swimming to the other boats.
Those who were in the other boats were scarcely less unfortunate, for the sepoys poured in a merciless fire of grape shot among the women and children. Mr. Jones, who swam to another boat, found most of the occupants dead—a Mr. Rohan, the younger Miss Goldie, a child and another lady lying in the bottom of the boat. All through the night the survivors of the Futtehghur garrison continued their perilous voyage, ever and anon hearing the shouts of their pursuers and the constant drip of the bullets in the turgid waters.
They passed Bithour, where they were fired upon by the sepoys under that infamous scoundrel Nana Sahib. The fire was deadly, and many were wounded. The boats still proceeded down the river, and at last reached Cawnpore, where General Wheeler received them. They had been but spared from one death to another equally as horrible, for they received no mercy from the Nana, and, as described in the chapter dealing with Cawnpore, were brutally massacred. The bravery of the defenders at Allahabad and Futtehghur are bright incidents in a campaign which was distinguished for bravery.
We have now to deal with perhaps the most sanguinary conflict which marked the closing days of the campaign, when British arms were employed in stamping out the mutiny in all directions. Sir Hugh Rose was entirely successful in Central India, General Whitlock cleared the whole district of Jubbulpore, while General Roberts, sweeping through Rajpootana, bore down upon Kotah, the inhabitants of which had cruelly massacred the Resident, Major Burton, and his two sons.
Kotah is in the province of Ajmere, and was held by the noted rebel, Hossein Ali, who had gathered around him a large force to make a stand against the all-conquering Feringhees. It was in March, 1858, that Roberts commenced his movement upon Hossein Ali, and a trying tramp it proved for his brave troops. Under a sweltering sun, over baked earth, finding the wells dried up, with men and horses dropping by the way, he wearily dragged his way toward Kotah. To add to the sufferings of his troops, most of the water-carriers deserted to theranks of the rebel chief, and left the British soldiers parched and thirsty.
The column consisted of the 8th Royal Irish Hussars, the 72nd, or Duke of Albany’s Highlanders, the 83rd and 95th regiments, along with the 13th Bengal Infantry—a corps which was greatly mistrusted. The enemy consisted almost entirely of mutineers, chiefly of the 72nd Bengal Infantry, whose scarlet coats were faced with yellow, like those of the 72nd Highlanders who were marching against them, while they also bore the same number on all their appointments as the British regiment.
Bravely the force marched on, passing on the route Sawoor, which was strongly fortified; Jhajpoor, a straggling ill-defended town; and Bhoondee. This latter place is a national citadel, and it was here that the two brigades met, being only two days’ march from Kotah.
On the 22nd of March, the division, after great hardships, reached Kotah, and encamped on the left bank of the river Chumbul, opposite the city, but this position had ultimately to be altered to avoid the enemy’s artillery. The whole army lay exactly opposite the city, and parallel with the river. The immediate cause of these operations against Kotah was the treachery of the Rajah, who had always protested himself a staunch ally of the British. When the mutiny at Neemuch broke out among the Bengal troops, Major Burton had left Kotah for some purpose. During his absence, the Rajah warned him against returning, as the inhabitants had joined the rebellion, and considerable numbers of mutineers had taken up their residence in the city. Nevertheless, Major Burton, with his two sons, returned to Kotah, and all three were barbarously murdered. The Rajah refused to join his subjects, and shut himself up in his palace, where he was regularly besieged by his own subjects.
Kotah is a large town, girt by massive walls, and is situated on the eastern bank of the Chumbul, well defended by bastions and deep ditches cut in the solid rock, while the entrances are all defended by double gates. In the foreground lies a vast lake, with the temple of Jugmandal built of snow-white marble, rising in the centre.
On the 24th of March two batteries were erected on the banks of the river, one on the right and the other on the left of the British position. Hossein Ali, who was in reality an ex-Pay Sergeant of the revolted 72nd, had about 70 pieces of cannon at his disposal, and he directed a well-trained fire upon the batteries. The siege began with vigour, and the guns of both forces did much execution. Night and day our soldiers and officers toiled in a trench on the scheme of a mine, whichwas afterwards relinquished, amid slaughter, wounds, sunstroke, and cholera, but they never flinched.
On the 26th, Major-General Roberts placed a body of troops in the entrenched quarter of the city, which was still in the possession of the Rajah, while 200 men of the 83rd regiment, and the rifle company of the 13th Native Infantry, crossed over the river. The next day or two, during which the artillery fire on both sides never slackened, was given over to preparations for bringing over some of the heavy ordnance and mortars to be used in a grand assault.
On the 30th the final preparations were made, and early that morning three columns of 500 men each passed over in large square flat-bottomed boats to the city, the reserve being under Colonel Macan. The leading column in the assault, under the command of Lieut.-Colonel Raimes of the 95th, was composed of 260 men of the 72nd, and 250 of the 13th Native Infantry; the second column, under Lieut.-Colonel Holmes of the 12th Native Infantry, of 260 men of the 95th regiment, with the 10th regiment of Native Infantry; and the third column of 200 of the 83rd, with the 12th Native Infantry. The Highlanders crept up to the wall in the early morning while it was yet dark, the design being to blow a hole in the wall sufficiently large to admit a storming party. The engineers found the wall too solid to admit of its being blown up. The engineers toiled away, but the day broke and the sun shone forth making conspicuous the Highlanders in their plumed bonnets and tartan trews as they stood in line under the wall of the city. They became exposed to a galling fire from the enemy, and their position for a time was a most dangerous one. The plan of attack was altered, and the 72nd, with the engineers and supports, were ordered to the Kittenpole gate, which, although it had been strongly built up, presented more favourable opportunities for capture. The engineers set to work, and in a few minutes they had the ponderous gate blown to atoms.
Under a heavy fire the 72nd, under Major Thelluson, dashed in at the breach, and won an entrance to the city by turning to the right under the protecting fire of a party which had been placed on the walls of the Rajah’s fortifications. The advance was rapid, as nothing could stay the impetuous rush of the Highlanders, who were smarting under the heavy fire they had been subjected to in the morning. It was a fearful moment for them while they stood under the walls, waiting for an entrance, and one of the regiment wrote home as follows:—
“We were in an awful position for more than seven hours. I think it would be about eleven o’clock when the gate was blown up. But it was too bad to keep us in suspense so long,for you may believe me the torture of the mind was awful. Any who had the opportunity of studying the men’s countenances could easily read their minds. You would have seen many a shade of sorrow and sadness. Our plan of attack was simple. Our Brigade—the second—was to attack and storm the right bastions, mounting in all 17 guns, the 72nd forcing through the breach first, supported by the 13th, the 83rd bringing up the rear. The first brigade was to follow on the left attack, both having the town in the centre.”
To the sound of the pipes, and shouting the old war-cry of the Greys which had resounded over the field of Waterloo—“Scotland for ever!”—the Albany Highlanders (72nd) dashed on. But little resistance was offered, and rapidly the column moved on to the chief point of attack—the bastion called the Zooraidoor, on the outer walls of the city. The rebels, with their matchlock rifles, tried in vain to stop the onslaught, but fell against the deadly Enfield rifle. On the column reaching the bastion, it was found that most of the enemy had fled, and those who remained were quickly put to flight by the bayonet. Several of the mutineers, in their haste to escape, threw themselves from the ramparts, and were dashed to pieces at the bottom. The column next proceeded along the wall as far as the Soorjpole gate, one of the principal entrances to the town, through which a body of the enemy were flying to a place of safety.
Then commenced the real fighting of the day, for when the column had seized the gate and rushed into the city, the rebels opened a heavy fire upon the British when they had quitted the shelter of the walls. They were entrenched in a strongly-fortified house facing the gateway, which was stormed by Lieutenant Cameron of the 72nd with a handful of men. Cheering and shouting, they rushed in amongst the hail of bullets, and dashed up a narrow passage and staircase leading into the upper part of the building, where they met with a determined resistance from the rebels. The band was headed by “the Lalla,” the commander-in-chief of the mutineers, who fought desperately. Lieutenant Cameron was cut down, and several men were killed, so Lieut.-Colonel Parke deemed it expedient to risk no more lives in a fight in the narrow, dark, and intricate passages of the building. The Royal Engineers were told off to destroy the building, and they soon exploded their powder bags at the corner of the building, bringing it down like a house of cards. A large number of the rebels were destroyed by the collapse of the building, while those who sought safety in the open were cut down. There were a few instances of desperate resistance but the rout was complete.
The other two columns operating at different points met withscarce a check, for the rebels made every haste to save their skins. By evening the whole strongly-fortified city of Kotah was in our hands, and the slaughter of the rebels must have been severe. The 8th Hussars gallantly charged after the flying mutineers, and cut down hundreds of them, capturing the treasure which had been taken from the town, while the 72nd Highlanders captured one stand of sepoy colours, and the 95th two stands. The victory was really gained by a clever flank movement, coupled with the fact that the rebels deserted their guns, which, had they been as well handled as in the early morning, would have repelled any attack. Upwards of 70 guns of different calibre, some very heavy, and a vast quantity of ammunition, fell into our hands. General Roberts, in thanking the Brigade, said that he had been in field fights, he had been in storming parties, but he had never seen men go steadier. It was more like men upon a parade, or on a field day, than men who were facing death. Thus ended the siege of Kotah, which will be for ever memorable for British bravery against terrible odds.
One of the many black deeds of the mutiny was the inhuman atrocities at Jhansi, in the province of Allahabad, and about a hundred miles eastward of Serinje. In June, 1857, the 12th Native Infantry, which had served with distinction at Ferozeshah, and the 14th Irregular Cavalry had their headquarters at Nowgong, but the left wing of each regiment was quartered at Jhansi, which had therefore a considerable force to repel any attack, besides having the advantage of two forts for defensive purposes.
The spirit of mutiny was in the air, and although the regiments named had remained true to their salt, their officers could not put implicit trust in them in face of the stories which were being circulated regarding the success of the mutineers in various parts of India. The officers and women and children took possession of the fort in the city, it being preferred to the Star Fort, which was in the cantonments. For a time the sepoys remained true, but on the 4th of June a company of the 12th Native Infantry entered the Star Fort, and took possession of the cannon and treasure which it contained. The fat was now in the fire, and although the remainder of the men assuredthe poor isolated officers that they would remain faithful, no trust could be reposed in them.
In all the phases of the mutiny the crafty and cunning traits in the Indians’ character were brought to the surface. They behaved treacherously on every occasion, and broke vows which to them ought to have been sacred. It was thus at Jhansi, and the officers found that they were indeed in perilous straits. On the 5th of June, while on parade, the men, who were still allowed to retain their rifles, deliberately shot down Captain Dunlop and Ensign Taylor, and Lieutenant Campbell was seriously wounded, but succeeded in escaping to the fort. Lieutenant Turnbull took refuge in the branches of a tree, but was brought down by a musket ball, and shared the same fate as Dunlop and Taylor. The other officers who were in the fort at the time of the outbreak, saw what was happening by the aid of field glasses. They at once put themselves on the defensive, and after admitting Campbell to the shelter of the fort, secured the gates and shot down a few of the mutineers who had pursued the wounded officer. They barricaded the gates with stones, and prepared to fight desperately for their lives. There were only 55 Europeans in the place, including the women and children, along with a number of native servants. The women as usual showed admirable bravery and fortitude, cooking for the garrison, carrying refreshments to them at great risk, and, when ammunition became scarce, they cast bullets for the rifles.
The native servants were even not to be trusted, and two of them were discovered attempting to open the gates of the fort. Captain Burgess shot one of the rascals, but the other managed to cut down Lieutenant Powys before he was shot by the captain. The mutineers gathered in force around the little fort, and kept up a heavy fire upon the walls with cannon and musket. Twice the brave defenders attempted to send word of their peril to Gwalior or Nagode, but both failed. Captain Gordon was shot in the head while looking over the parapet of the fort, and as ammunition and provisions were almost exhausted, the little garrison began to lose heart.
The rebels were most persistent in their attacks, and a further disaster befel the brave defenders when two gates were battered in. The rebels offered them their lives if they laid down their arms, and as the days passed and no sign of relief came, the wearied officers were compelled at last to throw themselves upon the mercy of the mutineers. They accordingly came out of the fort and laid down their arms. The mutinous troops at once threw themselves upon the now defenceless men, and tied them in two rows. The men were the first victims of the massacre, Captain Burgess taking the lead, his elbows tied behind his back, and a prayer book in his hands. The womenand children, terrified at the murder of those near and dear to them, stood by and calmly waited until the time came when they too would be despatched. Not one escaped, but fortunately all were destroyed without the inhuman indignities to which they were subjected elsewhere.
It was left to Sir Hugh Rose, latterly Lord Strathnairn, to avenge this black deed. On the 21st March, 1858, he arrived before the walls of the city with a large force, to find that it was held by a large rebel army. He commenced the bombardment of the town, but was immediately brought face to face with a new danger. The Gwalior contingent, which had been shattered, and was thought to be dispersed, advanced from Kalpee, a town on the right bank of the Jumna, and, becoming largely augmented as it marched, the force when it drew up to give battle to Sir Hugh Rose’s troops, must have numbered 25,000, while it was also supported by eighteen large pieces of artillery. Still it was not a disciplined force, and Sir Hugh was quick to avail himself of this fact. Without giving the rebels time to form any preconcerted plan, he dashed out to the attack.
So sudden was the onslaught and so daring in its conception, the huge mass of rebels reeled and broke into a confused rout. The British, with a ringing cheer, charged in amongst the now terrified rebels, and the slaughter was great. The contingent was again dispersed, and fully 2000 were killed. All the guns, elephants, and ammunition fell into our hands, and Sir Hugh was now able to resume his siege operations on the town. The rebels in Jhansi must have been affected by the defeat of the large force outside, for on the following day the town fell into the hands of the British column, the garrison fleeing in the course of the night. The pursuit was at once taken up, and before it ended 1500 of the rebels who had been concerned in the Jhansi revolt were destroyed. This was one of the last acts in the mutiny, but the revolt was not to be quelled without the spilling of more British blood in the ill-planned attack on Roohea.
The Highland Brigade, after the final relief and capture of Lucknow, had been engaged in pursuing the rebels in the district and stamping out the rebellion in the province. The Highlanders were encamped at the Dalkoosha, having been ordered to form part of the Rohilcund field force under Brigadier Walpole. On the morning of the 8th of April, the 42nd, 79th, and 93rd Highlanders marched from the camp to the Moosha Bagh, a short distance from which the brigade encamped. Here they remained until the 15th, when orders were issued to recommence the march, as it had been learned that the enemy were active in the vicinity. The advance guard consisted of three companies of the Black Watch with cavalry and guns,under the command of Major Wilkinson, while the main body followed with the remainder of the 42nd leading. The Highland Brigade was under the command of Brigadier the Hon. Adrian Hope, the whole being under Walpole.
Long before daylight on the 16th the force was under arms, and moved cautiously a few miles across country, when a halt was called, the baggage collected, and a strong guard set over it, consisting of two guns and detachments of men from every regiment. About ten o’clock in the morning the whole force advanced cautiously through some thick wood, and came suddenly upon a native mud fort, the garrison of which immediately opened fire with their heavy guns and musketry. The 42nd was in advance, supported by the 93rd, the 79th being held in reserve. The guns were quickly placed in position, and opened a heavy fire upon the fort, while a movement was also made by the infantry, the Highlanders advancing under a merciless shower of bullets close to the walls of the fort. This mud erection, which did duty as a fort, was called Roohea, and was hardly worth the attention of the British troops. Walpole, however, was determined to clear out this nest of rebels, and gave orders that the infantry were to approach as near the enemy as they could, and skirmish without support.
The British plans were decidedly bad, for the rebels could easily have been driven out by the fixed bayonet without the sacrifice of life which a skirmishing attack entailed. Walpole evidently meant to prevent the escape of the rebels by the main gate, for Major Wilkinson made an attack on the weak side to drive the rebels out and into contact with the main force. Captain Ross Grove, with No. 8 Company of the Black Watch, advanced with fixed bayonets, and without having the slightest protection or cover bravely marched on till they came close to the counterscarp of the ditch, with only the breadth of the ditch between the gallant Highlanders and the enemy. There they lay, waiting patiently for orders to charge, losing men rapidly; in fact, so precarious was their position that a company of the Punjaub Rifles was sent to their assistance. The Punjaubees and Highlanders quickly forming into line, rushed for the ditch, and attempted to get over the parapet, but had to admit defeat, having to retire with heavy loss, two officers and fifty men being killed and wounded. The impetuous assault had failed, and the enemy had sustained but a trifling loss, while the fort was as stoutly defended as ever. Captain Cope, of the Punjaub Rifles, along with four men of the Black Watch, performed a daring deed in going almost under the walls of the fort to bring in the dead body of Lieutenant Willoughby. Creeping to where the lieutenant’s body lay, the five men raised it and carried it back to the British lines under a perfect storm ofshot. Captain Cope had his left arm broken by a bullet, and Private Spence, of the 42nd, was mortally wounded.
Brigadier Adrian Hope, angry at the heavy loss inflicted on his men, went near the fort to reconnoitre and endeavour, if possible, to find a better way by which it could be won. The fort was hexagonal in shape, with two redoubts, two sides of the hexagon having no fortifications. The bastions were circular, and the ditch deep and narrow, the escarp and rampart being completely inaccessible at most parts without the use of scaling ladders. The gallant leader of the Highlanders, in his eagerness to learn the internal arrangements, ventured too near, and he had barely been a minute in the zone of fire when he was seen to sway and fall. The bullet had penetrated above the left collar-bone, and he knew that it was mortal, for he exclaimed, “I am a dead man, lads. They have done for me at last.” He then asked for a drink of water, which he drank hurriedly, and then expired in the arms of one of his officers.
An officer, writing of the scene, says—“I cannot describe to you the gloom—thick and palpable—which the sudden and untimely death of our amiable and gallant Brigadier has cast over the minds of all. He was the foremost and most promising of all the young Brigadiers; he was the man in whom the commander-in-chief placed the most implicit confidence, and whom all trusted and delighted to honour.”
He was the ninth son of the Earl of Hopetoun, and served with the 60th Scottish Rifles in the Kaffir war, where he saw much service. No. 8 Company of the Black Watch were maddened by this loss, and retired clamouring for orders to storm the fort, but appealed in vain, for apparently Walpole had different plans in view. The same writer above quoted states:—“Everybody asks what did the Brigadier intend to do? Why did he send men to occupy the position which they did when nothing was to be gained by their being there? Why, if he intended to take the place, was it not stormed at once, and at the point of the bayonet? Or rather—and this is the main query—why was it not shelled by the mortars and smashed by the breaching cannon?”
For an hour or two the guns played on the fort, but after the death of Hope nothing was done, and the force outside continued to get the worst of it. All the regiments were losing heavily, but it was the Black Watch and the Punjaubees who suffered most severely, the Black Watch having alone forty-two casualties, including Lieutenants Douglas and Bromley.
At sunset the force was withdrawn, and, to the amazement of all, the camp was formed within a mile of the fort, the rebels firing upon the force as it retired. Next morning, when the men moved up to recommence the attack, it was found that theenemy had retired during the night, leaving nothing behind but the ashes of their dead, and a broken gun carriage. Quietly, thinking no doubt of their dead comrades who had perished in making the assault upon such a paltry place, the Highlanders took possession of the fort, and it was soon given over to the flames. It was found that it was so open and unprotected behind that a regiment of cavalry could have ridden in; and yet the brave Highlanders, who were eager and willing to rush in with their trusty bayonets, were held back, and became targets for a foe concealed behind the brown walls. The garrison was only 400 strong, and the rebels could not have lost many men. “A sad, sad scene it was,” says a writer, “the burial of our dead on the evening of the following day.”
A short distance from the camp, in a cluster of mango trees, the graves were dug, and the slain consigned to them. The Church of England service was read by a chaplain of that church, and afterwards there was a short service, consisting of the reading of a portion of Scripture, a short address, and lastly prayers. Thus Adrian Hope was left to sleep with the brave men who had fallen in such a miserable engagement as the taking of the mud fort of Roohea.
The rebels had to be pursued, however, and throwing sentiment to the winds, the force moved away on the 17th, and three days afterwards came up to the enemy at the village of Allahgunge. They were in large numbers, and, after the success at Roohea, they were prepared to fight desperately. The British were just as eager to come to grips, and although the rebels were strongly posted, the attack was too much for them. Burning with a desire for revenge, the Highlanders threw themselves upon the enemy, who stoutly met the onslaught. There was a wavering in the ranks when the bayonets flashed, and almost without having the opportunity of firing a shot, the enemy broke and dispersed in all directions, leaving a large number of killed and wounded upon the field.
The force stayed at Allahgunge for three days, occupied in rebel-hunting, while reinforcements also arrived. The next point was an extensive drive in the direction of Bareilly and Shahjehanpoor, and, on 5th May, after a fortnight’s marching, by which the district was almost cleared, the force once more came into contact with an extensive band of rebels on the plains to the east of Bareilly.
The engagement was a most trying one, the day being tremendously hot, but the soldiers kept up wonderfully well, and after fighting for about four hours, forced the enemy to retire with some loss. The city of Bareilly was then taken possession of, the victorious troops meeting with but slight opposition, although the 93rd lost several men in a skirmishwith a band of rebels who had taken refuge in one of the buildings in the town. The mutineers were now thoroughly cowed, and the Highlanders kept them continually on the move, dispersing several bands who had attempted to rally. The 93rd marched to Shahjehanpoor, to form a brigade with the 60th Rifles and 66th Ghorkas. Along with this force were some guns, baggage, cavalry, and a few irregulars.
The rebels were first of all encountered at a village named Poosgawah, in which they were strongly entrenched. From this position they were quickly expelled, and the force breaking up into small parties started in pursuit of the retreating mutineers. No sooner had the bulk of the force passed through the village than a body of rebel cavalry appeared in the rear and attacked the baggage as it was straggling through the narrow entrance to the village. The main body of the baggage guard was far in the rear, and the enemy was at first mistaken for the irregulars of the force until they began to cut up the camp followers. At this moment the sick of the 93rd, twelve in number, who, at Surgeon Munro’s request, had been armed the night before, turned out of their dhoolies and kept up a sharp fire, which held the enemy in check until the arrival of the Mooltanee cavalry, which had been sent from the front, and which dispersed the rebels at the second charge, the men wielding their heavy cavalry swords with great dexterity, and doing considerable execution amongst the mutineers.