CHAPTER X.

INDIA.--THE BLOWING UP OF THE CASHMERE GATE.

The final assault of Delhi, the leap of a little army of five thousand British and native soldiers upon a strongly fortified city held by fifty thousand rebels, forms one of the most exciting chapters in the history of the Indian Mutiny, and the blowing up of the Cashmere Gate one of its most heroic incidents. Once more did the gallant “sappers and miners,” whom we last saw doing noble work in the trenches at Sebastopol, here show themselves ready to face any peril at duty’s call.

The decision to make the attack was come to at that historic council on September 6th, 1857, to which Nicholson went fully prepared to propose that General Wilson should be superseded did he hesitate longer. On the following day the engineers under Baird-Smith and his able lieutenants set to work to construct the trenching batteries, and by the 13th enough had been done to warrant the assault.

We have a very vivid picture drawn for us by several writers of how, on the night of the 13th, four Engineer subalterns stole out of the camp on the Ridge and crept cautiously up to the walls of the enemy’s bastions to see what condition they were in. Greathed, Home, Medley, and Lang were the names of the four; one of them, Lieutenant Home, was to earn undying fame the next day at the Cashmere Gate.

Armed with swords and revolvers, the party--divided into two sections--slipped into the great ditch, sixteen feet deep, and made for the top of the breach. But quiet as they were, the sepoy sentries on the wall above had heard them. Men were heard running from point to point. “They conversed in a low tone,” writes Medley, who was with Lang under the Cashmere Bastion, “and presently we heard the ring of their steel ramrods as they loaded.”

Huddled into the darkest corner of the ditch, the two officers waited anxiously for the sepoys to go away, when another attempt might be made; but the alarmed sentries held their ground. The engineers, however, had seen that the breach was a good one, “the slope being easy of ascent and no guns on the flank,” so the four of them jumped up and made a bolt for home. Directly they were discovered a volley rattled out from behind them, and the whizzing of balls about their ears quickened their steps over the rough ground. Luckily not one was hit.

There was one other man engaged in reconnoitring work that same night of whom little mention is made in accounts of the siege. This was Bugler William Sutton, of the 60th Rifles, a very brave fellow, as had been proved some weeks previously during a sortie from Delhi. On this occasion he dashed out from cover and threw himself upon the sepoy bugler who was about to sound the “advance” for the rebels. The call never rang out, for Bugler Sutton’s aim was quick and true, and the rebels, in some disorder, were driven back.

Volunteering for the dangerous service on which the four engineers above-named had undertaken, Sutton ventured forth alone to spy out the breach at which his regiment was to be hurled next morning, and succeeded in obtaining some very valuable information for his superiors. The 60th Rifles gained no fewer than eight Victoria Crosses during the Mutiny, and one of them fell to Bugler Sutton, who was elected unanimously for the honour by his comrades.

But it is of the Cashmere Gate and what was done there that this chapter is mainly to tell. According to the plans of the council, four columns were to make the attack simultaneously at four different points in the walls. The one under Nicholson was to carry the breach near the Cashmere Bastion, while another column, under Colonel Campbell, was to blow up the Cashmere Gate and force its entrance through into the city. The duty of performing the first part of this operation fell to Lieutenants Home and Salkeld of the Engineers.

There was a little delay on the morning of the assault, for it was found that the sepoys had been hard at it in the night blocking up the holes in the breaches with sandbags, and otherwise repairing the damage done by our batteries. But at last everything was in readiness. The signal to advance was given, and the columns moved eagerly forward.

At the head of the third column (Campbell’s), well in front of the rest, ran Home, Salkeld, two sergeants, also of the Bengal Engineers,--let their names be given, Smith and Carmichael,--Corporal Burgess, and Bugler Hawthorne of the 52nd Regiment, together with Havildar Pelluck Singh and eight sappers. Salkeld had a slow match in his hand (not a port-fire, as is often stated); the sergeants and the other men each carried a 25 lb. bag of powder. Behind, to cover them, followed close a small firing party.

It is not difficult to conjure up the scene before our eyes. As the little company nears the Gate it sees that the bridge which formerly spanned the ditch has been broken down. Only a single beam stretches across. Nothing daunted, Lieutenant Home leads the way, stepping lightly over the shaking beam and dropping his powder bag at the foot of the Gate ere he leaps down into the ditch.

Peering through the wicket, the sepoys stare in sheer astonishment at this handful of mad Englishmen charging at them, and four or five of the party have got safely across, each depositing his precious bag in its place, ere the rebel muskets speak out. Then the slender wooden beam becomes indeed a bridge of death. A sheet of flame flashes from the wicket of the Gate, and one man after another falls, wounded or killed outright. Enough bags, however, have been flung down into position, and Home calls upon Salkeld to finish the job.

With Sergeants Smith and Carmichael, and the corporal by his side, Salkeld, who has been in waiting, dashes for the frail bridge. He gains it and is over, as a volley rattles out from the Gate, but before he can light the fuse he falls, shot through leg and arm.

“Here you are, Burgess!” he cries, holding out the slow match. “Quick, man!”

The corporal takes the slow match in turn and bends low over the powder, only to fall back the next instant mortally wounded. We have it on Lord Roberts’ authority that Burgess actually succeeded in lighting the fuse, but opinions are at variance on this point. It seems probable, however, that he did perform his task, for when Sergeant Smith, seizing the slow match in his turn, now goes forward to ignite the powder, he sees that the fuse is fizzling.

A leap into the ditch, where he lands beside Home and Bugler Hawthorne, saves him just in time. A moment later and there is a loud explosion, a cloud of smoke, and stones, pieces of wood, and other débris raining down all around. In the noise of the firing and the confusion that prevails, the bugler is meanwhile sounding the “advance,” not once but thrice, though it is extremely doubtful if it is heard at all.

Colonel Campbell has seen the explosion, however, and the storming party, straining like hounds in leash, are no more to be held back. With a wild cheer they spring forward, to find--not the big Gate itself destroyed, but the little wicket, which was all that had been blown in. One by one they creep through, stepping over the scorched bodies of the sepoy wardens within, and form up in the open space by Skinner’s Church, where all are to meet.

But what of the survivors of the explosion left behind in the ditch? Home is alive, and so are Hawthorne, Smith, Burgess, and Salkeld, though the two last are grievously wounded. Carmichael and several others lie still for ever on the damp ground.

With some assistance, brave John Smith and Bugler Hawthorne get Lieutenant Salkeld into the doctor’s hands, though it is evident nothing can be done for him. Burgess, too, has a mortal wound, and he is dead before friendly hands have carried him a score of yards. Of the wounded only the havildar, who had fallen with Carmichael before the deadly rain of bullets, has any hope of recovery.

* * * * *

There is not much more to be said. Lieutenant Philip Salkeld died a few days later, but not before he knew that the Cross for Valour had been conferred upon him. Sergeant Smith and the bugler were the only two destined to wear the coveted decoration in memory of that day’s desperate deed.

Lieutenant Duncan Home figures in the list of V.C. heroes with his brother-lieutenant by reason of the Cross having been provisionally bestowed upon him by General Wilson. His end, which came scarcely three weeks later, was a dramatic one.

In the attack on Fort Malagarh it was expedient to lay a mine and make a breach in the wall. Home superintended this operation, and lit the slow match himself. The fuse appearing to have gone out, he went forward to examine it and relight it if necessary, but at the moment he stooped the light reached the powder and the mine blew up.