CHAPTER XXV.

V.C. HEROES OF THE INDIAN FRONTIER.

The closing years of the eighties and the opening years of the nineties saw a good deal of fighting at different places on our Indian frontier. Through internal dissensions or the interference of some foreign power, some of the turbulent hill tribes were in a state of continual ferment, and order had to be restored within their boundaries by force of arms.

In 1888 there was trouble in Upper Burmah. The Karen-ni, or Red Karens, who form a group of semi-independent tribes down by the Siamese border, took to dacoiting again in a bold manner. An expedition was accordingly sent into their district, with the result that the disturbances were quickly quelled. This “little war” comes within the scope of this book for a notable display of devotion on the part of an Army doctor which gained him a V.C.

With the Indian troops that went into action against the Karens near Lwekaw on New Year’s Day, in 1889, was Surgeon (now Lieutenant-Colonel) John Crimmin, of the Bombay Medical Service. He soon had an opportunity for putting his skill to some use, for several of the Bombay infantrymen were bowled over by the dacoits. Regardless of his own danger, the surgeon proceeded to kneel by the fallen men’s sides and dress their wounds.

In the bamboo clumps very near to him the Karens were being chased and cut down by the troops, but now and then a red-turbaned, red-robed figure would peep out of a patch and take a flying shot at the doctor. Luckily for him and his patients, they were poor marksmen.

Having joined the firing line again, Crimmin made himself useful with his revolver. Not for long, however; the Red Karens are savage fighters, and our sepoys had to pay for their victory dearly. The surgeon was very soon busy once more, bandaging shot wounds and knife cuts.

A mounted sepoy had been told off to stand by him, but he was slight protection. At one time the surgeon was set upon by nearly a dozen of the enemy, who leapt out of the bamboos upon his right with wild yells. Dropping his lint and bandages, Crimmin whipped out his sword, ran the first man through, and was hard at work with another while the sepoy dropped a third. This warm reception disheartened the Karens, and with a parting shot or two they disappeared as quickly as they came. Then the surgeon coolly went on with his work, the wounded men murmuring many a “God bless you, doctor sahib,” as he bent over them.

The winter of 1891 is memorable for the brilliant little Hunza-Nagar campaign, which was brought about by Russian intrigues with the rulers of some petty states on the northern frontier of Cashmere. In the storming of the mountain strongholds in Hunza and Nagar three V.C.’s were won, by Lieutenant Guy Boisragon, Lieutenant John Manners Smith, and Captain Fenton John Aylmer, while many more were earned.

The most striking event in Indian history of that year, however, was the revolt in Manipur, where the British Resident, Mr. Frank St. Clair Grimwood, and other Europeans in the capital were brutally murdered. In connection with this tragedy a young officer attached to the 2nd Burmah Battalion of the Punjab Infantry, Lieutenant Charles J. W. Grant, performed a dashing deed which made him talked of far and wide as “the hero of Manipur,” and added his name to the list of those decorated “for Valour.”

The state of Manipur lies up among the hills between India and Burma. It is semi-independent, like many of its neighbours, the Maharajah being subjected to the control of a British Resident. In 1890 a family quarrel in the Maharajah’s own household led to his deposition, his brother the Senaputty (commander-in-chief of the army) placing another brother on the throne as Regent.

This turn of affairs was tacitly acquiesced in by the Indian Government, who recognised that the change was for the better, but on the late Maharajah, Soor Chandra Singh, complaining to the authorities of the bad treatment he had received (and deserved, by the way), some notice of it had to be taken. So Mr. Quinton, Chief Commissioner of Assam, was despatched to Manipur with instructions to arrest the head and front of the offending, the Senaputty.

This gentleman, however, firmly declined to comply with the request that he should surrender himself. An attempt was then made to seize him in the palace, but without success, and diplomacy was again resorted to. A meeting was arranged for the discussion of the matter, and one evening Quinton, Grimwood, and several of the British officers had an interview with the Regent and the Senaputty. Not one of them was ever seen again alive. On their refusal to accept the terms proposed by the Manipuri chiefs they were all massacred.

Mrs. St. Clair Grimwood, who was one of those who escaped from the besieged Residency immediately after the tragedy, has given us a graphic account of her experiences. She was ignorant of the real facts when forced to flee by her companions, the first news being that her husband had been taken prisoner with the others. Only at the end of her journey did she learn the awful truth.

Down in the cellar of the house Mrs. Grimwood, like the brave lady she was, carefully tended the wounded amid the crackle of musketry and the crash of bursting shells. She was hit in the arm, though fortunately not seriously, and only desisted from her task when it became evident that they must all leave the place. The rebels had set the Residency on fire.

With the wounded and an escort of sepoys, Mrs. Grimwood and the officers who had survived made a dash for the road, reaching it in safety. “I had not even a hat,” she remarks, “and only very thin house-shoes on. One of these dropped off in the river, where I got wet up to the shoulders. We were fired at all the way. I lay down in a ditch about twenty times that night while they were firing, to try and escape bullets.”

After ten days’ marching through the jungle-covered country, fording rivers and scrambling through swamps, not to mention a sharp encounter with their enemies, the little party reached British territory. They had just two cartridges left by that time; one of them being reserved, it is noted, to save Mrs. Grimwood from falling alive into the hands of the Manipuris!

One is tempted to dwell at greater length on the story of that dramatic flight from the Residency, but it is with Lieutenant Grant that we are mainly concerned.

Grant was at Tammu, a Burma village station some distance to the south, when word arrived of the outbreak in Manipur. No details of the massacre or the escape were known, but in the hope of being able to effect a rescue the young officer obtained permission to lead a small force up to Manipur. He took with him eighty men in all, Punjabis and Ghurkas, with three elephants as carriers.

Through the teak forests they marched steadily though slowly towards their goal, having to constantly beat off the Manipuris as they approached nearer. At Palel a sharp engagement took place, in which the gallant eighty dispersed a large number of the enemy. From prisoners that were captured here Grant learned for the first time of how Quinton and Grimwood had been murdered.

Believing still that Mrs. Grimwood and several others were besieged in the Residency, he pushed on with all speed, and at last reached the town of Thobal, about half-way between Tammu and the capital. At this place the Manipuris, a thousand or more strong, offered a stout resistance to his progress, but a furious charge at the head of his followers cleared the entrenchments by the river-side, leaving them free to be occupied by him.

These trenches the lieutenant at once strengthened, building up the walls with mud, rice-baskets, ration-sacks and everything that would answer the purpose, even using his own pillow-case as a sandbag. Provisions were fortunately to be had with little difficulty, for behind them, on the other side of the river, were some paddy fields.

The siege of his fortified position soon began, and the enemy’s guns threw shell after shell into the trenches before the Ghurkas could drive them off. A brief halt was made in the hostilities while Grant, as he records, had a lively correspondence with the Regent and the Senaputty anent certain prisoners whom they threatened to murder unless he retired. Negotiations fell through eventually, and the attack was renewed.

In all the fighting Grant played a heroic part, making sallies with a few of his Ghurkas, and striking terror into the hearts of the Manipuris. “Found myself in a bit of a hole,” he writes at one place in his journal; “for thirty or forty were in a corner behind a wall, six feet high, over which they were firing at us.” This wall had to be cleared, so Grant and seven men charged down on it headlong, and had “the hottest three minutes on record.”

The Ghurkas had a very proper appreciation of their leader’s bravery. “How could we be beaten under Grant Sahib?” they asked, when questioned about this and similar exploits. “He is a tiger in fight!”

The struggle at Thobal lasted a week. At the end of that time, just as Grant was noting with dismay that ammunition was running very short, a summons came to him from Burma to retire.

The little force, without any further interference from the enemy, who had suffered pretty severely, left their entrenchments one evening during a terrible thunderstorm, and set off on their return journey. An advance party of a hundred and eighty men met them near Palel, at which place some hours later they fought another brisk action with the Manipuris.

In all this fighting Grant had escaped unhurt, but a few weeks afterwards, while again under fire at Palel, he had a very narrow shave, a bullet passing through the back of his neck. As he said himself, his luck all through was marvellous: “Everything turned up all right.”

At the same time, making full allowance for the element of luck, there is much, very much, to be placed to his credit on the score of pluck and skill. The difficulties before him when he set out for Manipur on his gallant attempt at rescue were tremendous, and only his undaunted courage and resourcefulness carried him successfully through.

The young lieutenant is now Major Grant, V.C., having been gazetted two months after his dashing exploit; and it is pleasing to note that every one of his men who survived the march were also decorated, receiving the Indian Order of Merit for their devotion and heroism.