Part 5

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 his _History of the Sepoy War in India_, I would recommend them to lose no 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 so long 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 heavy pieces 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, and the 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 the worst 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 falling masonry, 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, usually his 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 think that 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 officers of Royal Engineers, Greathead, Chesney, and Maunsell, aided by Hodson, had sanctioned an attempt to take Delhi by a _coup de main_ on 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 heavy guns 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 the _morale_ of 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, and even--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 Princes by 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 chief object 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 verging on 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 had not 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.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] _Kaye's Sepoy War._

[5] Colonel Wilson's letter to Colonel Baird Smith, dated 30th August, 1857.

V. CAPTURE OF JHUJJUR.

One evening, as my Commanding Officer, Captain Sanford, and I, after dining at mess, returned to the tent which we shared between us, he told me that I need not expect to enjoy that night a very long rest; for he had planned a little expedition on which I was to accompany him. He had got information from a spy of the whereabouts of a small body of the enemy at a village about twelve miles from our camp. He had already given orders for fifty of our men who had been separately and secretly told off to arm themselves and mount their horses as quietly as possible soon after midnight, and sneak out of camp, one by one, through a picquet which had been warned to let them pass. He had taken none of the officers except myself and the Adjutant into his confidence, partly to escape their importunities to be allowed to accompany us, and partly because there was no certainty that we might not be going on a wild goose chase. At the stroke of midnight we arose, dressed and armed ourselves, fortified our stomachs with a cup of hot tea, crammed into our holsters a cold roast fowl apiece and some chapatties, mounted our horses and stole out of camp to the rendezvous, where we found our party and a guide waiting for us. Placing the guide in front under the escort of a couple of sowars, and whispering to the men on the right flank to follow in single file, Sanford noiselessly led the way. Not till we had placed a couple of miles between ourselves and camp did we halt, form up, and "tell off," after which necessary proceeding we continued our journey, stumbling along in the dark over fields and by foot-paths till our guide intimated that we were within a mile of our destination. As it was still an hour or so before dawn we now halted, dismounted, looked to our girths, and loosened our swords in their scabbards. When we again moved on, preceded by a few scouts, with whom was the guide, the very faintest flush of light was beginning to suffuse the sky in the east. In a few minutes more the darkness of night had partially rolled away; and we could see, not far to our front, a group of thatched roofs, and a few tiny curls of blue smoke where some early risers had begun their preparations for breakfast. Almost at the same moment we came across two or three sepoys who had thus early come out into the field. Short shrift had they. We pressed on; and then a carbine shot broke the stillness, followed by the clattering of horses' hoofs, as a small picquet, which--strange to say--had actually been posted on the look-out, took the alarm and galloped away.

After them we went, _ventre a terre_, and drove them right into the village, which turned out to be a small one, and not in any way protected by earthworks. From the complete absence of any attempt at checking us by musketry fire, coupled with the uproar within the hamlet, it was evident that our sudden attack had smitten its defenders with panic; so Sanford with his usual boldness promptly decided to strike while the iron was hot. Detaching two small squads to sweep round the place and join us on the opposite side, he led the main party at a gallop straight up the main street, and through the village, into the fields beyond, which were already full of fugitives. They were all mounted, but many of them had been in such a hurry to bolt that they had not had time to saddle their horses. Though they were two or three times our number, and--if they had kept a really efficient look-out, could easily have beaten us off--they were so completely demoralised by terror that they did not make the slightest effort to rally, but fled in all directions, each man for himself, and each trying to make the fastest time on record. It may be imagined what a holiday this was for our fierce "Guides." Soon was the plain strewn with the bodies of their victims; and though many of the rebels when overtaken used their _tulwars_ as well as they could, they only succeeded in slightly wounding a few of our men.

One unfortunate fellow, who fell to my lot, threw himself off his horse when I had nearly overtaken him, and boldly facing me on foot, tried to draw his _tulwar_; but the more he tugged the less would it leave the scabbard. For a moment I thought fear had paralysed his arm; but I discovered afterwards that he had tied his hilt to the scabbard, and in his hurry and very natural agitation had forgotten all about the fastening. It was not at all an unusual practice with native swordsmen to thus fasten up their _tulwars_, with the view of preventing their keen edges from getting blunted by friction.

For three or four miles we kept up the pursuit, when Sanford sounded the "halt" and "rally" and our scattered men gradually obeyed the summons, and assembled, many of them leading captured horses, and laden with loot in the shape of arms and odds and ends, among which were doubtless many gold mohurs and rupees extracted from the _cummerbunds_ of the fallen sowars. Very unobtrusive was our return into camp that evening. Not till after dusk did we sneak in as we had sneaked out, by ones and twos; for we were by no means anxious that the General should come to hear of our unsanctioned escapade, till, at any rate, Sanford had found time to think over the most judicious excuse for it.

As we stretched our tired legs under the table in the mess tent, and refreshed our dry throats with a welcome draught of "tarbund" beer, we looked forward to a good night's rest after our day's adventures, for the force was not to resume its march till daylight next morning. At this juncture an official letter was brought by an orderly and handed to the commanding officer, whose face while he read it presented an interesting study. He ended its perusal with a low whistle clearly indicative of puzzled embarrassment; and then communicated its contents to the table. The staff officer of the column had, it seemed, the honour to inform him that the General had received information that a certain village--the very one we had paid our morning call at--was occupied by a strong outpost of the enemy's cavalry. Captain Sanford was desired to take all the available sabres of his regiment and beat up that outpost, timing his march so as, if possible, to effect a surprise about the break of day. In the event of the enemy proving too strong to be dislodged Captain Sanford was to communicate with the General, who would be found on the line of march previously notified in Orders. Here was a pretty dilemma; what was to be done now? It would never do at this stage of the affair to report that we had anticipated the General both in information and in acting on it. He would have been furious, so our commanding officer contented himself with acknowledging the receipt of the order. Once more, soon after midnight, we turned out, this time the whole Regiment, some 250 strong; and marched away in the same direction as on the previous night. Our spirits were not quite so lively as on that occasion, and Sanford was not so gay as usual; for he did not quite see his way out of the scrape he had got into.

At daylight we reached the village, now apparently deserted; and here we met with a wonderful stroke of luck: for in one of the houses we captured a foolish fellow, who, after escaping us the day before, had, thinking the coast was clear, come back in the night to recover some things which he had not had the leisure to pack up before taking his leave. The poor fellow's surprise was painful to witness; but he soon brightened up when he was promised his life on condition that he conducted us to the place where his comrades had taken refuge. This he undertook to do; and, to ensure his fidelity, his hands were securely tied together, and he was mounted on a stray pony, the leading rope of which was given in charge to a couple of men who had orders to shoot him if he attempted to escape.