CHAPTER XXVIII.

MILITARY OPERATIONS IN APRIL.

The British officers and soldiers in India looked forward, not without anxiety, to a hot-weather campaign in the summer of 1858. Much disappointment was felt, too, in England, when necessity for such a campaign became manifest. Persons in all ranks had fondly hoped that, when Sir Colin Campbell had spent two or three months in preparing for the siege of Lucknow, he would be enabled so to invest that city as to render the escape of the mutineers impossible; and that in conquering it, the heart of the rebellion would be crushed out. The result did not answer to this expectation. Lucknow was conquered; but the prisoners taken could be reckoned simply by dozens; nearly all the rebels who were not killed escaped into the provinces. It is true that they were now a dispersed body instead of a concentrated army; but it is also true that, in abandoning Lucknow, they would retire to many towns and forts where guns could be found, and where a formidable stand might be made against British troops. Let the summer approach, and the ratio of advantages on the two sides would be changed in character. Hot weather may affect the sepoy, but it affects him relatively less than the Englishman. It is heart-breaking work to a gallant soldier to feel his bodily strength failing through heat, at a time when his spirit is as heroic as ever. The rebels were astute enough to know this. The lithe Hindoo, with supple limbs and no superfluous flesh, can make great marches—especially when he retreats. His goods and chattels are few in number; his household arrangements simple; and it costs him little time or thought to shift his quarters at a short notice, in a period of peace. During war or rebellion, when he becomes a soldier, his worldly position is even more simple than before. A man who can live upon rice, parched corn, and water, and to whom it is a matter of much indifference whether he is clothed or not, has a remarkable freedom of movement, requiring little intricacy of commissariat arrangements. The English, during the war of the mutiny, had ample means of observing this mobility of the native rebel troops, and ample reasons for lamenting its consequences. If this were so during the winter, it would be still more decidedly the case during a hot-weather campaign, when exhaustion and _coups de soleil_ work so terribly on the European constitution. It was this consideration, as we have said, that gave rise to much disappointment, both in India and in England, when the real sequel of the siege of Lucknow became apparent. The disappointment resolved itself in some quarters into adverse criticism on Sir Colin Campbell’s tactics; but even those who deemed it wise and just to postpone such criticism, could not postpone their anxiety when they found that the rebels, fleeing from Lucknow, assumed such an attitude elsewhere as would render a summer campaign necessary.

The long sojourn of the commander-in-chief in and near the Oudian capital, and the frequent communications between him and the governor-general, told of serious and weighty discussions concerning the policy to be pursued. Rumours circulated of an antagonism of plans; of one project for leaving the rebels unmolested until after the hot season should have passed, and of another for crushing them in detail before they could succeed in recombining. But whatever might have been the rumours, the policy adopted followed the latter of these two courses. The army of Lucknow, broken up into divisions or columns, was set again to work, to pursue and defeat those insurgents who kept the field with a pertinacity little expected when the mutiny began. So much of those operations as took place during the month of April, it is the purpose of this chapter to narrate; but a few words may previously be said concerning the state of affairs in Bengal, more dependent on Calcutta than on the army of Oude or the commander-in-chief.

The fact has already been adverted to that the supreme government, amid all the anxiety of the rebellion in the northwest, began in the spring of the year to take measures for the better protection of Lower Bengal. That province, the most important in the whole of India, had been very little affected by the mutiny, chiefly because there were few Mohammedan leaders inclined to become rebels; but the authorities could not close their eyes to the facts that the province was very insufficiently defended, and that any successful revolt there would be more disastrous than in other regions. So long as the delta of the Ganges remained in British hands, there would always be a base of operations for reconquering Upper India, if necessary; but that delta once lost, the services of a Clive, backed by a large army from England, would be again needed to recover it. A plan was therefore formed for locating five or six thousand European troops in Bengal, quartered at Calcutta, Dumdum, Chinsura, Barrackpore, Dinapoor, Benares, and one or two other places. It became very seriously contested whether any native army whatever would be needed in the province. The Bengalees are peaceful, and have few ambitious chieftains among them; hence, it was argued, a few thousand British troops, and a few hundred seamen of the Naval Brigade, would suffice to protect the province. There were ‘divisional battalions’ of native troops still at certain stations, as a sort of military police; but the regular Bengal native army had been extinguished, or had extinguished itself. So useful had a few hundred seamen become, that their employment led to many such suggestions as the following—‘Wherever these seamen are, there is a feeling of absolute security at once from external attack and internal treachery. Bengal has now been nearly twelve months without a native army, and within that twelve months they have never once been missed. Why not retain this security? Why not strike off Bengal from the provinces to be occupied by a native force, and render our improvised force a permanent institution? A company of European sailors would be a nucleus for the armed police in each division. Why not keep them up as such, give them permanent allowances, recruit them primarily from the same useful class? There can be no want of men when once such a permanent opening is known. They would not only protect the great cities, and double the physical force on which all authority must ultimately rest, but act as a permanent check on the divisional battalions. We want such a check. These men may be as faithful as the sepoys have been false, as attached to Europeans as the sepoys have proved themselves hostile; but there can never be any proof of the fact. Let us not again trust armed natives without the precautions we take in our ships against our own sailors—a check by a different body.’ All such considerations necessarily resolved themselves into a much larger inquiry, to be conducted deliberately and cautiously—how ought the army of India to be re-constituted?

Semi-barbarous tribes in many instances took advantage of the disturbed state of British influence in India, to make inroads into districts not properly belonging to them; and it sometimes happened that the correction of these evildoers was a very difficult matter. Such an instance occurred in the month now under notice. On the borders of Assam, at the extreme northeast corner of India, were a wild mountain tribe called Abors, who had for some time been engaged in a system of marauding on the Assam side of the frontier. Captain Bivar, at Debrooghur, set forth to punish them, taking with him a mixed force of sailors and Goorkhas. The Abors retreated to their fastnesses, and Bivar attempted to follow them; but this was an unsuccessful manœuvre. The Abors brought down many of his men by poisoned arrows, and maimed others by rolling down stones upon them from the rocks; a portion of their numbers, meanwhile, making a circuit, fell upon the baggage-boats, and captured the whole of the baggage. Captain Bivar and his companions suffered many privations before they safely got back to Debrooghur. These, however, were minor difficulties, involving no very serious consequences. Throughout the northeast region of India there were few ‘Pandies,’ few sepoys of Hindustani race; and thus the materials for rebellion were deprived of one very mischievous ingredient.

The Calcutta authorities found it necessary to make stringent rules concerning ladies and children; and hence some of the magistrates and collectors, the representatives of the Company in a civil capacity in the country districts, were occasionally placed in troublesome circumstances by family considerations during times of tumult. From the first, the Calcutta government had endeavoured, by every available means, to prevent women and children from going to the scenes of danger: knowing how seriously the movements of the officers, military and civil, would be interfered with by the presence of helpless relatives during scenes of fighting and tumult. One of the magistrates, in Western Bengal, was brought into difficulty by disobedience to this order. His wife entreated that she might come to him at his station. She did so. Shortly afterwards a rumour spread that a large force of the enemy was approaching. The lady grew frightened, and the husband anxious. He took her to another place, and was thereby absent from his post at a critical time. The government suspended him from office for disobeying orders in having his wife at the station, and for quitting his district without leave at a time when his presence was imperatively needed.

One other matter may be mentioned here, in connection with the local government, before proceeding to the affairs of Oude and the northwest. The Calcutta authorities shared with the Court of Directors, the English government, and the House of Commons, the power of rewarding or honouring their troops for good services; the modes adopted were many; but amid the controversies which occasionally arose concerning military honours, medals, promotions, and encomiums, it was made very manifest during the wars of the mutiny that the Victoria Cross, the recognition of individual valour, was one of the most highly valued by the soldiery, both officers and privates. The paltriness of the bits of metal and ribbon, or the tastelessness of the design, might be abundantly criticised; but when it became publicly known that the Cross would be given _only_ to those who had shewn themselves to be brave among the brave, the value of the symbol was great, such as a soldier or sailor could alone appreciate. From time to time notices appeared in the _London Gazette_, emanating from the War-office, giving the utmost publicity to the instances in which the Victoria Cross was bestowed. The name of the officer or soldier, the regiment or corps to which he belonged, the commanding officer who had made the recommendation, the dispatch in which the deed of bravery was recorded, the date and place of that deed, the nature of the deed itself—all were briefly set forth; and there can be little doubt that the recipients of the Cross would cherish that memorial, and the _Gazette_ notice, to the end of their lives. Incidental notices of this honorary testimonial have been frequently made in former chapters; and it is mentioned again here because of its importance in including officers and privates in the same category. Thus, on the 27th of April, to give one instance, the _London Gazette_ announced the bestowal of the Victoria Cross on Lieutenant-colonel Henry Tombs, of the Bengal artillery; Lieutenant James Hills, of the same corps; Lieutenant William Alexander Kerr, of the 24th Bombay native infantry; Sergeant John Smith, of the Bengal Sappers and Miners; Bugler Robert Hawthorne, of the 52d foot; Lance-corporal Henry Smith, of the same regiment; Sergeant Bernard Diamond, of the Bengal horse-artillery; and Gunner Richard Fitzgerald, of the same corps. Sergeant Smith and Bugler Hawthorne, it will be remembered, assisted poor Home, Salkeld, and Burgess in blowing up the Cashmere Gate at Delhi; unlike their heroic but less fortunate companions, they lived to receive the Victoria Cross.[165]

Let us now pass to the stormy northwest regions. Beginning with Lucknow as a centre, it will be convenient to treat of Sir Colin’s arrangements at that place, and then to notice in succession the operations of his brigadiers in their movements radially from that centre, so far as they were connected with the month of April.

That portion of the army which remained in Lucknow found the month of April to open with a degree of heat very distressing to bear. A temperature of 100° F., under the shade of a tent, was not at all unusual. When the wind was calm, the pressure of temperature was not much felt; but the blowing of a hot wind was truly terrible—not only from the heat itself, but from the clouds of dust laden with particles of matter of the most offensive kind. Every organ of sense, every nerve, every pore, was distressed. And it was at such a time that a commander was called upon to plan, and officers and soldiers to execute, military operations with as much care and exactitude as if under a cool and temperate sky. There were putrefying bodies yet unburied in the vicinity, pools of recently dried blood in the streets and gardens, and abominations of every kind in this city of palaces: how these affected the air, in a temperature higher than is ever known in England, may be imperfectly, and only imperfectly, conceived.[166]

The last chapter told in what way the treatment of the Oude rebels engaged the attention of the imperial legislature, and what were the violent discussions to which that subject gave rise. In this place it will only be necessary to state that, long before Viscount Canning came to hear the views of the two Houses of Parliament, he found it necessary to determine, if not the policy itself, at least the names of those who would have the onerous task of re-establishing civil government in the distracted province. Mr Montgomery, who, as judicial commissioner of the Punjaub, had rendered admirable service to Sir John Lawrence, was selected by the governor-general to fill the office of chief-commissioner of Oude—aided by a staff of judicial and financial commissioners, civil and military secretaries, deputy-commissioners, commissioners of divisions, deputy-commissioners of districts, and other officers. It was believed that he combined the valuable qualities of sagacity, experience, firmness, and conciliation. Oude was to be parcelled out into four divisions, and each division into three districts. The intention was, that as soon as any part of the province was brought into some degree of order by Sir Colin and his brigadiers, Montgomery should take it in hand, and bring it to order in relation to judicial and revenue affairs. Large powers were given to him, in relation to ‘proclamations’ and everything else; and it remained for time to shew the result.

While on this subject, it may be well to advert to the conduct and position of one particular native of Oude. During many months the line of policy pursued by the influential Oudian landowner, Rajah Maun Singh, was a subject of much anxiety among the British authorities. His power in Oude was very considerable, and it was fondly hoped or wished that he might prove faithful in mutinous times. This hope was founded on two kinds of evidence, positive and negative—proofs that he had often befriended the poor European fugitives in the hour of greatest need, and that on many occasions he had _not_ injured the British when he might easily have done so. Nevertheless it was impossible to get rid of the impression that he was ‘playing fast and loose;’ reserving himself for whichever party should gain the ascendency in the Indian struggle. So much importance was attached in England to this rajah’s conduct, that the House of Commons ordered the production of any documents that might throw light upon it. The papers produced ranged over a period of six months. So early as June 1857, when the mutiny was only six or seven weeks old, Mr Tucker, commissioner of Benares, wrote to Maun Singh concerning the relations between him and the British government—acknowledging the steadiness of the rajah in maintaining the district of Fyzabad in a peaceful condition, so far as he could, and assuring him that it would be good policy for him to continue in the same path. He told him that although England was engaged in a war with China, and had only just concluded one with Persia, and that moreover her Hindustani troops had proved faithless, she would undoubtedly triumph over all opposition from within and without, and would equally remember those who had been true and those who had been false to her—to reward the one and punish the other. It was a letter of thanks for the past, and of warning for the future. During the same month, Maun Singh was in correspondence with Mr Paterson, magistrate of Goruckpore, giving and receiving friendly assurances, and impressing the magistrate with a belief in his sincere desire to remain faithful to the British government during a time of trouble. In the middle of July he was in correspondence with Mr Wingfield, British political agent with the Goorkha force at that time in the Goruckpore district. Maun Singh, it may here be remarked, had suffered severely in his estate, by the land-settlement made when the Company took possession of Oude; he had suffered, whether rightly or wrongly; and the Calcutta authorities were naturally anxious to know whether his losses had converted him into a rebel. He wrote to Mr Wingfield, promising to adhere faithfully to a course of friendliness towards the English. Mr Wingfield recommended the government to trust Maun Singh, to supply him with a certain amount of funds, and to believe that he was able and willing to keep the districts of Fyzabad and Sultanpore tolerably free from anarchy. He added: ‘All I see and hear of Maun Singh makes me think him stanch up to this moment. He has exerted himself in every way to protect the women and children that were left at Fyzabad, and to place them in safety. He sent four sergeants’ wives and seven children to this place; but we cannot expect him to sacrifice himself for us. He has doubtless already made himself obnoxious to the rebels by his open adhesion to our cause; and if fortune goes against us at Lucknow, instead of being able to render us any assistance, he will himself have to take shelter here.’ The Calcutta government authorised Mr Wingfield to thank Maun Singh for his actions and his promises, and to assist him with money to a certain prescribed amount. In August a letter was sent to the rajah himself by the government, thanking him for what he had done, and urging him to a continuance in the same course. Many months afterwards, the Calcutta authorities had again to discuss this subject. During the autumn, Maun Singh’s former promises had been a good deal belied. He had been in and near Lucknow during the period when Havelock, Outram, and Campbell were engaged in warfare at that city; and it was more than suspected that he had aided the insurgents. True, he was a man who, having something of the feelings of a gentleman, rather succoured than persecuted hapless fugitives who were powerless for aught save suffering; but his proceedings in other ways were not satisfactory. When Outram commanded in the Residency, shut up with Havelock and Inglis, he exchanged many communications with the rajah, but to no satisfactory end. During the winter, rumours reached Maun Singh that the governor-general, regarding him as a traitor in spite of his many promises, intended to deprive him of his estates, as a punishment. He wrote a reproachful letter to Mr Brereton, the magistrate at Goruckpore—complaining that this was a poor reward for his services; that he went with his family to Lucknow because he was threatened by insurgents at Fyzabad; but that throughout the various sieges at Lucknow he never joined the rebels in attacking the British. Among various letters from the officials, were two which shewed that Mr Wingfield had greatly modified his former favourable opinion of the Fyzabad rajah. On the 2d of February he wrote: ‘Maun Singh is not the man to be selected as an object of clemency. He has not the excuse of having been hurried into insurrection by the force of example, the impetuosity of his feelings, or even regard for his personal safety. He withstood all these trials; for it was on mature reflection, and after weighing all the chances on either side, that he chose that of rebellion. As long as he thought the success of the insurrection was but transient, and that our government would speedily recover its position, he professed loyalty, and even supported us; but when he heard that the Goorkhas were not to march through Fyzabad, and that Havelock had been obliged to abandon his design of relieving the Residency and to retire on Cawnpore, he thought our case hopeless, and joined what appeared the triumphant side. He has now found out his mistake, and wishes to turn again.’ Again, on the 12th of February Mr Wingfield wrote: ‘On Maun Singh’s conduct I look with some distrust, which his letter does not tend to remove. Our Fyzabad news-writer, whose information has invariably proved correct, reports that the rajah has had an interview with some of the sepoy officers, and agreed to their proposal to invade this (Goruckpore) district, and moved three of his guns down to the Ghat. It would be quite consistent with his known character for duplicity to infer that, while aiding the insurgents, he is trying to keep well with us.’ The double-dealer had, indeed, his hands full of employment; for he had been sounding Sir James Outram at the Alum Bagh, before he applied to the Goruckpore authorities, at the very time that he had on hand some sort of negotiation with the rebels. He succeeded so far as this—that no party liked absolutely to throw him off. Mr Wingfield, in writing to the government, candidly admitted that, inscrutable and unreliable as Maun Singh was, matters would have gone worse for the British in Oude if he had not been there. ‘It must be admitted that his neutrality up to the present time has paralysed the plans of the insurgents, and has made him the object of their indignation. Had he declared himself openly against us, the district of Goruckpore would long ago have been invaded.’ On the 16th of February the governor-general sent orders from Allahabad, as to the mode in which any overtures from Maun Singh should be received. He directed that the rajah should be thanked for the humanity he had shewn towards individuals; reminded that strong suspicions were entertained of his complicity with the rebels; threatened with a full and searching inquiry into his past conduct; and recommended to submit himself—without any other conditions than a promise of his life and honour—to the British authorities. But Maun Singh did not follow this advice—he remained throughout the spring months balancing and trimming between loyalty and disloyalty.

Reverting to the state of affairs at Lucknow, it may here be observed that the commander-in-chief remained in that city until the middle of April. There was nothing Napoleonic, nothing rapid, in his movements after the conquest; but those who knew him best knew that he was organising plans of operation for all his brigadiers, and on all sides of the Oudian capital. So thoroughly was he master of his own secrets, and of his correspondence with the governor-general, that very little concerning his plans were known until the very day of operation. Even the higher officers had little but conjecture to rest upon; while the mere retailers of gossip were sorely puzzled for materials. It may be that the excessive publicity of the details of the Crimean war had rendered military authorities uneasy, and tended to render them chary of giving information of their plans in any subsequent wars. During the second week in the month, Sir Colin Campbell took a rapid gallop to Allahabad—a long distance and a somewhat perilous ride in such a disturbed state of the country; but he was not a man to care for distance or for danger, as personally affecting himself. He had many weighty questions to settle with Viscount Canning; and as the governor-general could not or would not go to the commander, the commander went to the governor-general. The result of the interview was the departure of Sir Colin Campbell himself, as well as his generals, for active service in districts distant from Lucknow.

It will be desirable to trace the movements of the generals and brigadiers singly before noticing those of the commander-in-chief and his head-quarters.

And first, for Sir James Outram. This eminent man, the second in influence among the military commanders in India, quitted Lucknow nearly at the same time as many other officers; but on a different mission. When that city was conquered, Outram at once became supreme authority there, as chief-commissioner of Oude. He collected round him a civil staff, and proceeded to enrol a police, establish police-stations, and restore order in the city. From these duties, however, he was summoned away. His services were needed at Calcutta. The supreme council in that city generally contained one military officer among its members, to advise on matters pertaining to war. General Low, who had for some time filled that position, retired to England; and Outram was chosen to supply his place. Personally, it was well that Sir James should quit the camp for a while, after half a year’s incessant military employment in Oude; and professionally, it was desirable that the council at Calcutta should have the benefit of his assistance, in any plans for the reorganisation of the Indian army—a most important matter, towards which the attention of the authorities was necessarily much directed. Sir James did not forget his old companions-in-arms. As soon as he reached Calcutta, he gave orders that copies of one of the newspapers should be regularly sent to the hospitals of six of the British regiments at Cawnpore, Meerut, Lucknow, and Benares; he knew how irksome are the hours in a sick-room, and how joyfully a few books or journals are hailed in such a place.

The lines of operation marked out for the other generals naturally bore relation to the real or supposed position of the insurgent forces. The rumours which reached head-quarters concerning the concentration of rebel leaders in Rohilcund, even making allowance for exaggerations, told of a somewhat formidable organisation. Among the best-known names included in the list were Khan Bahadoor Khan, Nena Sahib, Fuzul Huq, Waladid Khan, and the Nawab of Furruckabad. Khan Bahadoor Khan was chief ruler; and he appears to have organised something like a regular government, with dewans, moonshees, naibs, darogahs, kotwals, nazims, and military commanders. Nena Sahib was there as a sort of distinguished refugee; as were also two shahzadas or princes of the royal family of Delhi. Nena Sahib is supposed to have arrived at Bareilly in Rohilcund, after Sir Colin’s great victory at Lucknow, with four hundred troopers, and to have taken up his abode in the fine large native school-room built by the British in that city. One among many bazaar reports was, that Khan Bahadoor Khan began to entertain misgivings concerning the ultimate success of his rebel policy; but that Nena Sahib, acting on his fears, insisted that a drawing back would be ruinous. Another rumour, having much probability to recommend it, was to the effect that Nena Sahib looked to Central India, the region of Gwalior, Kotah, and Indore, as the field in which his own personal success might ultimately be best insured, on account of his great influence among the Mahrattas of that region; and it was supposed that, failing of success in Oude and Rohilcund, he would endeavour to cross the Ganges and the Jumna into Bundelcund and Central India. Hence one of the points of policy on the side of the commander-in-chief, was to guard those great rivers at as many ghats or passing-places as possible—in the hope that, confined to Oude and Rohilcund, the rebels might be crushed; and in the fear that, scattered over Central India, they might again become powerful. Whether his forces were sufficiently numerous for this duty, was one of the many questions that pressed upon Sir Colin Campbell. The trite saying of an enemy ‘not knowing when they were beaten,’ was many times revived by the British officers in those days; the mutineers seldom gained a victory; but on the other hand, they were not much disheartened by defeat; they retreated, only to collect and fight again; and thus the British troops seldom felt that a victory would give an unquestionably permanent advantage.

Of the leaders who had taken part in the conquest of Lucknow, Jung Bahadoor, the Nepaulese chieftain—as has been shown in a former chapter—went to Allahabad with a body-guard, to hold an interview with the governor-general. The rest of the Goorkha contingent retraced their steps by slow degrees towards their Nepaulese home. So late as the 22d of April, the main body of Goorkhas were no further from Lucknow than Nawabgunge, a town on the banks of the Gogra, northeast of the capital of Oude. On that day, they marched to Sutturgunje, and on the 23d to Durriabad. This town had a fort which might have made a stout resistance, but there were no rebel troops at hand to put the matter to proof. After remaining at Durriabad two days, the Goorkhas marched on the 25th to Shugahgunje, on the 26th to Mobarrukgunje, and on the 27th to Durabgunje—all of them places on or near the banks of the Gogra, on the route towards Fyzabad. Resting two days at Durabgunje, they marched on the 29th to Ayodha or Oude, the ancient Hindoo capital, afterwards supplanted by the Mohammedan Fyzabad, just at hand—which Fyzabad was in its turn supplanted by Lucknow. On the last day of the month, the Goorkhas were on one side of the river Gogra at Fyzabad, and a body of rebels on the other—each intently watching the other, but without fighting. Maun Singh was at that time at Fyzabad, friendly to the British. Little satisfaction appears to have been derived by any party from this co-operation of the Goorkhas with the British. In the preceding July and August, when Havelock was straining every nerve to bring a small force up to Lucknow, and when Inglis was contending against stupendous difficulties in that city—in those months, there was an army of three or four thousand Goorkhas near the eastern frontier of Oude, badly commanded and insufficiently employed. Why they were not pushed on to Lucknow, as an auxiliary force, was known only to the authorities; but, in its effect, this inactivity of the Goorkhas called forth much adverse criticism. Again, during the six months from the beginning of September to the beginning of March, the assistance from Nepaul was not of such a character as had been hoped by those who knew that the Goorkhas enlisted in the Sirmoor and Kumaon battalions were really brave and efficient troops, and who expected that Jung Bahadoor’s Goorkhas would prove to be men of the same stamp. Why the aid rendered was so small, was a politico-military question, on which very little information was afforded. When, at last, a really large Nepaulese army entered Oude, its movements were so slow that Sir Colin began the siege of Lucknow without its aid; and when the siege was over, the army began to march back again, without participating further in the war. This was a very impotent result; and the Nepaulese episode was by no means a brilliant one in the history of the wars of the mutiny. So far as concerns the march during the month of April, from Lucknow towards the Nepaul frontier, it may be remarked that the Goorkhas dreaded the approaching hot weather, that their number of sick was very large, and that the carts for their baggage were so enormous in number as greatly to impede their movements.

Another of the generals concerned in the siege of Lucknow, Sir Edward Lugard, was intrusted by the commander-in-chief with service in a region infested by Koer Singh—the chieftain whose name had been so closely associated with the Dinapoor mutiny and the ‘disaster at Arrah,’ in the preceding summer. This rebel had worked round nearly in a circle—not metaphorically, but topographically. He had marched at the head of insurgents south and southwest from Arrah, then west into Bundelcund, then north into the Doab and Oude; and now it was his fortune to be driven east and southeast back to his old quarters in the neighbourhood of Arrah.

Before Lugard could cross the frontier into the provinces eastward of Oude, it was found necessary to bring smaller forces to bear upon bodies of rebels infesting those provinces, and threatening to command the region between the rivers Goomtee and Gogra. The city of Azimghur was in this way greatly indebted to the gallant exertions of Lord Mark Kerr. This officer, immediately on the arrival of news that Azimghur was beset by the enemy, started off from Benares on the 2d of April, with 450 men of H.M. 13th regiment and Queen’s Bays, and two 6-pounder guns. Though impeded by a train of three hundred bullock-carts laden with ammunition, Kerr pushed forward with such rapidity that he arrived in the neighbourhood of Azimghur on the third day after quitting Benares. Here he was opposed by three or four thousand rebels, comprising a large proportion of sepoys of the too celebrated Dinapoor brigade. The rebels were commanded with some skill by a subadar of one of the mutinied regiments. They occupied a position of considerable strength, on the right and left sides of the main road; their right resting on a strong village, and their left protected by a ditch and embankment. Lord Mark succeeded in dislodging those of the enemy who were immediately in his front; but while thus engaged, his convoy in the rear was attacked by eight hundred rebels, who were with great difficulty beaten off, at the expense of the life of Captain Jones, who was guarding the convoy. Overcoming all resistance, Lord Mark succeeded in reaching a point near Azimghur, and remained there until the arrival of Lugard’s column from Lucknow. This portion of the rebels did not return to the city after the action, but retired in good order, taking their guns and baggage with them.

Azimghur, however, needed the assistance of a larger force than Kerr could bring against it; for Koer Singh, with a formidable band of rebels, had to be contended against, in a region containing many large towns. Sir Edward Lugard, placed by Sir Colin Campbell in command of a column destined for service in this region, started from Lucknow during the last week in March; but the destruction of a bridge over the Goomtee at Sultanpore greatly delayed his progress, and compelled him to take a circuitous route by Jounpoor, which city he did not reach till the 9th of April. His column was a strong one; comprising three regiments of infantry, three of Sikh horse, a military train, three batteries of horse-artillery, and seven hundred carts full of warlike stores. On the evening of the 10th, he marched out from Jounpoor, to encounter Gholab Hossein, one of the rebel chuckladars or leaders. The enemy did not stay to fight, but retreated precipitately. They required close watching, however; for while Sir Edward was on the march from Jounpoor to Azimghur, a large rebel force got into his rear, and attempted to re-enter Jounpoor. This caused him to modify his plan, and to disperse the rebels before proceeding to Azimghur. In this he succeeded, but lost the services of Lieutenant Charles Havelock, nephew of the distinguished general. The gallant young officer, at the commencement of the mutiny, had been adjutant of the 12th Bengal native irregular cavalry, and was thrown out of employment by the revolt of that regiment. He then went as a volunteer with his uncle, and was for nine months more or less engaged in the operations in and around Lucknow. When Lugard left the army of Oude, and took command of the column whose operations are here being recorded, young Havelock accompanied him, holding a command in a Goorkha battalion. It was while Lugard was dispersing the rebels near Jounpoor, that the lieutenant was killed by a shot from a hut in an obscure village.

Sir Edward, resuming his march towards Azimghur, reached that city at length on the 15th, somewhat vexed at the numerous delays that had occurred on his journey. On his arrival at the bridge of boats which crossed the small river Tons at that city, he encountered a portion of Koer Singh’s main army. They fought well, and with some determination; and it was not without a struggle that he defeated and dispersed them. Mr Venables, the civilian who had gained so high a reputation for courage during the earlier mutinous proceedings in the district, was wounded on this occasion. The East India Company had reason to be proud of its civilians, for the most part, during the troubles; Mr Venables was only one among many who nobly distinguished themselves. After this battle at the bridge, it soon became evident, as in many other instances, that the rebels had been too quick for their pursuers. Koer Singh and the main body of his force were quitting Azimghur on the one side just when Lugard entered it on the other; the fighting was merely with the rear guard, and all the rest of the insurgents marched off safely. As it was by no means desirable that they should escape to work mischief elsewhere, Sir Edward, on the 16th, sent off Brigadier Douglas in pursuit of them, with the 37th and 84th regiments, some cavalry and artillery. Lugard himself proposed to encamp for a while at Azimghur.

We have now for a time to leave Sir Edward Lugard, and to notice the unsatisfactory result of the operations which he initiated. The town of Arrah was destined to be the scene of another discomfiture of British troops, as mortifying if not as disastrous as that which occurred early in the mutiny, and inflicted by the same hand—Koer Singh. When this indefatigable rebel was driven out of Azimghur, he separated from some of the other chieftains, at a point which he believed would enable him to cross the Ganges into the district of Shahabad, where Arrah would be near at hand. He marched with two thousand sepoys and a host of rabble. Brigadier Douglas pursued him with great rapidity, marching a hundred miles in five days of great heat; he came up with the rebels at Bansdeh, defeated them, and drove them to Beyriah, Koer Singh himself being wounded. On the 21st, a portion of Douglas’s force again came up with the enemy while in the act of crossing the Ganges at Seoporeghat in the Ghazeepore district. It appeared that Koer Singh had cleverly outwitted Colonel Cumberlege, who, with two regiments of Madras cavalry, was endeavouring to aid Douglas in crushing him at a particular spot. Koer Singh did not wait to be crushed, but swiftly and silently marched to the Ganges at a spot not guarded by Cumberlege. When Douglas’s troops came up, they killed a few of the rebels, and captured two guns, six elephants, and much ammunition and treasure—but the interception had not been prompt enough; for Koer Singh and the greater part of his force had safely crossed to the right bank of the river. The remainder of Douglas’s column came up on the evening of this day, quite worn out with their long march, and needing some days’ rest. Koer Singh, although beaten first by Lugard and then by Douglas, had baffled them both in reference to a successful flight; and now it was his fortune (though wounded) to baffle a third British officer. The rebels reached Koer Singh’s hereditary domain of Jugdispore. The town of Arrah was at that time occupied by 150 men of H.M. 35th foot, 150 of Rattray’s Sikhs, and 50 seamen of the Naval Brigade—the whole under Captain Le Grand. This officer, hearing of the approach of the rebels, and knowing that small bodies had often defeated large armies during the course of the war, sallied forth to prevent the march of Koer Singh to Jugdispore, or else to disturb him at that place. He found them posted in a jungle. They were nearly two thousand in number, but dispirited, and without guns. Le Grand’s small force, with the two 12-pounder howitzers, encountered the enemy about two miles from Jugdispore, at daylight on the 23d. After an ineffectual firing of the howitzers, a bugle-call threw everything into confusion. Whether Le Grand, fearing to be surrounded, sounded a retreat, or whether some other signal was misinterpreted, it appears certain that his force fell into inextricable confusion; they abandoned guns and elephants, and fled towards Arrah, followed by numbers of the enemy, who shot and cut down many of them. The 35th suffered terribly; two-thirds of their number were either killed or wounded, including Captain Le Grand himself, Lieutenant Massey, and Dr Clarke. This mortifying calamity, in which the unfortunate Le Grand is said to have disobeyed instructions given by the superior officer of the district, gave rise to much bitter controversy. The 35th was one of those regiments of which the colonel was an old man, shattered in health, and not well fitted to head his troops in active service. It was also, in the heat of controversy, brought as a charge against him that he was a martinet in matters of discipline, and kept his soldiers in red cloth and pipe-clayed belts under the tremendous heat of an Indian sun. The charges, in this as in many similar cases, may have been overwrought; but all felt that the 35th had not behaved in such a way as English troops are wont to behave when well commanded—and hence the inference that they were _not_ well commanded.

A new series of operations became necessary as a consequence of this disaster near Jugdispore. The news hastened the movements of Brigadier Douglas, who on the 25th crossed the Ganges at Seenaghat, and pushed on the 84th foot and two guns towards Jugdispore. It was, however, not till the month of May that that jungle-haunt of rebels was effectually cleared out. Meanwhile a little had been doing at another spot in the same region. When, after the action at the bridge of Azimghur, Koer Singh’s force divided into three, one of these divisions, with several horse-artillery guns, marched towards Ghazeepore. Brigadier Gordon, at Benares, at once ordered two companies of H.M. 54th to proceed to Ghazeepore by hasty marches, half the number being carried on elephants or in ekahs. It was hoped that these troops, coming in aid of small numbers of royal troops, European cavalry, Madras cavalry, and two 6-pounder guns, already at Ghazeepore, would suffice to protect that important city from the rebels; and this hope was realised. Considerably to the northwest, between Goruckpore and the Oude frontier, Colonel Rowcroft maintained a small force, with which from time to time he repelled attacks made by the enemy. On the 17th of April, when at Amorah, his camp was attacked by three thousand rebels; the attack was not effectually resisted without eight hours’ hard fighting. The sepoys, almost for the first time in the war, endeavoured to resist a cavalry charge in British fashion, by kneeling in a line with upturned bayonets; but a corps of Bengal yeomanry cavalry made the charge with such impetuosity that the enemy were overthrown and a victory gained.

Such, in brief, was the general character of the operations eastward of Oude. We have next to touch upon those of Sir Hope Grant, in Oude itself.

This gallant general, as colonel of a cavalry regiment, had commenced his share in the war as a subordinate to one or more brigadiers; but he had since proved himself well worthy of the command of a column under his own responsibility. When Sir Colin Campbell parcelled out among his chief officers various duties consequent on the flight of the insurgents from Lucknow, a column or division was made up, to be commanded by Sir Hope Grant, to look after such of the rebels as had taken a northerly direction. His column consisted of H.M. 38th foot, one battalion of the Rifle Brigade, a regiment of Sikhs, H.M. 9th Lancers (Hope Grant’s own regiment), a small body of reliable native cavalry, two troops of horse-artillery, and a small siege and mortar train. It was known or believed that the Moulvie of Fyzabad had collected a force near Baree, about thirty miles north of Lucknow; and that the Begum of Oude, with several cart-loads of treasure, had fled for concealment to Bitowlie, the domain of a rebel named Gorhuccus Singh. To what extent Sir Hope Grant would be able to capture, intercept, or defeat the rebels in the service of these leaders, was a problem yet to be solved. He set out from Lucknow on the 11th of April, with Brigadier Horsford as his second in command. In the first three days the troops marched to Baree, on the Khyrabad road; and then was experienced one of the perplexities of the campaign. Every brigadier or divisional general was painfully impressed with the danger of moving in a country where the mass of the population was unfriendly. In many provinces the towns-people and villagers were for the most part disposed, if not to aid the British, at least to hold aloof; but the fact could not be concealed that the Oudians generally were in a rebellious state of feeling, and would gladly have aided to cut off the resources of Sir Colin’s lieutenants. It was merely one among many examples, when Sir Hope Grant set out towards the Gogra, in hopes to overtake the Begum and her fleeing forces; his column or field-force was accompanied by no less than 6000 hackeries or vehicles of various kinds, forming a line of nearly twenty miles; and it was essentially necessary, while assuming the offensive in front, that the flanks and rear of this immense train should be protected—a difficult duty in a hostile country. Scarcely had Grant approached near Baree, when the cavalry of the Moulvie’s rebel force got into his rear, and attempted to cut off the enormous baggage-train. Sir Hope was too good a general to be taken by surprise; but his rear-guard found enough to do to repel the attack made upon them, and to protect the enormous baggage-train. This done, and some horse-artillery guns captured, Sir Hope Grant resumed his march. Turning eastward from Baree, he marched towards the Gogra, in the hope of intercepting the flight of the Begum of Oude, her paramour Mummoo Khan, and a large force of rebels. On the 15th he reached Mohamedabad, on this route; and on the 17th he halted at Ramnuggur for a few days, while a strong reconnoitring party set forth to ascertain if possible the exact position and strength of the rebels. The news obtained was very indefinite, and amounted to little more than this—that the Begum and Mummoo Khan were retreating northward with one large force, and the Moulvie westward with another; but that it would not be very easy to catch either, as the sepoys were celebrated for celerity of movement during a retreat. Sir Hope Grant dispersed various bodies of rebels, and disturbed the plans of the Begum and the Moulvie; but he returned to Lucknow towards the close of the month without having caught either of those wily personages, and with many of his troops laid prostrate by the heat of the sun.

We turn now towards the west or northwest, on the Rohilcund side of Oude. It has already been mentioned, that after the fall of Lucknow, many of the rebel leaders fled to Rohilcund, with the hope of making a bold stand at Bareilly, Shahjehanpoor, Moradabad, and other towns in that province. Khan Bahadoor Khan, the self-appointed chief of Bareilly, was nominally the head of the whole confederacy in this region; but it depended on the chapter of accidents how long this leadership would continue. At any rate, Sir Colin Campbell saw that he could not allow this nest of rebels to remain untouched; Bareilly must be conquered, as Delhi and Lucknow had been. The veteran commander probably mourned in secret the necessity for sending his gallant troops on a long march, into a new field of action, with a sun blazing on them like a ball of fire; but seeing the necessity, he commanded, and they obeyed. His plan of strategy comprised a twofold line of action—an advance of one column northwestward from Lucknow; and an advance of another southeastward from Roorkee; the two columns to assist in clearing the border districts of Rohilcund, and then to meet at Bareilly, the chief city of the province. We will notice first the operations of the force on the northeast border.

Brigadier Jones, with the Roorkee field-force, commenced operations in the eastern part of Rohilcund, about the middle of April. His force consisted of H.M. 60th Rifles, the 1st Sikh infantry, Coke’s Rifles, the 17th Punjaub infantry, the Moultan Horse, with detachments of artillery and engineers. The force numbered three thousand good troops in all, and was strengthened by eight heavy and six light guns. Major (now Brigadier) Coke, whose Punjaub riflemen had gained for themselves so high a reputation, commanded the infantry portion of Jones’s column. The column marched from Roorkee on the 15th, and made arrangements for crossing to the left bank of the Ganges as soon as possible. A large number of the enemy having intrenched themselves at Nagul, about sixteen miles below Hurdwar on the left bank, Jones made his dispositions accordingly. He determined to send his heavy guns and baggage to the ghat opposite Nagul; while his main body should cross at Hurdwar, march down the river on the other side, and take the intrenchment in flank. This plan was completely carried out by the evening of the 17th—Nagul being taken, the enemy driven away with great loss, and the whole column safely encamped on that side of the Ganges which would afford easier access to the hot-bed of the rebels at Bareilly. Four days afterwards, Brigadier Jones encountered the Daranuggur insurgent force near Nageena or Nuggeena, on the banks of a canal. The insurgents maintained a fire for a time from nine guns; but Jones speedily attacked them with his cavalry, outflanked them, charged, captured the guns and six elephants, and put the enemy speedily to flight, after very considerable loss. Jones’s killed and wounded were few in number; but he had to regret the loss of Lieutenant Gostling, who was shot through the heart while heading some of the troops. The brigadier resumed his march. Luckily for British interests, Mooradabad was not so deeply steeped in rebellion as Bareilly; and the Rajah of Rampore, not far distant, was faithful so far as his small power would extend. The benefit of this state of affairs was felt at the time now under notice. Feroze Shah, one of the Shahzadas or princes of Delhi in league with the Bareilly mutineers, marched on the 21st of April towards Mooradabad, to demand money and supplies. He was refused; and much fighting and pillage resulted as consequences. Brigadier Jones’s column came up opportunely; he entered Mooradabad on the 26th, checked the plundering, drove out the rebels, captured many insurgent chieftains, and re-established the confidence of the towns-people. At the end of the month, Jones was still in Mooradabad or its neighbourhood, ready for co-operation in May with another column which we must now notice.

While Jones had been thus occupied, Bareilly and the rebels were threatened on the other side by the Rohilcund field-force. During the first two or three weeks after the conquest of Lucknow, Sir Colin Campbell was engaged in various plans which did not permit of the immediate dispatch of troops to Rohilcund; but on the 7th of April several regiments began to assemble at the Moosa Bagh, to form a small special army for service in that province. Why they were not despatched earlier, was one of the many problems which the commander-in-chief kept to himself. On the 9th this minor army, the Rohilcund field-force, set out, with General Walpole as its commander, and Brigadier Adrian Hope at the head of the infantry. The distance from Lucknow to Bareilly, about fifteen marches, was through a region so ill provided with roads that few or no night-marches could be made; it was necessary to have the aid of daylight to avoid plunging into unforeseen difficulties and dangers. As a consequence, the troops would be exposed to the heat of an Indian sun during their journey, and had to look forward to many trials on that account. Not the least among the numerous perplexities that arose out of the defective state of the roads, was the difficulty of dragging the guns which necessarily accompanied such a force; cavalry and infantry were, in all such cases, inevitably delayed by the necessity of waiting until the ponderous pieces of ordnance could arrive.[167]

Walpole’s field-force, resting at night under shady groves, it was hoped might reach Bareilly about the 24th of the month; and this was the more to be desired, seeing that Rohilcund, from its position in relation to numerous rivers, becomes almost impassable as soon as the rains set in—about the end of May or the beginning of June. Marching onward in accordance with the plan laid down, Walpole came on the 14th of April to one of the many forts which have so often been mentioned in connection with the affairs of Oude. The name of the place, situated about fifty miles from Lucknow, and ten from the Ganges, was variously spelled Rhodamow, Roodhamow, Roer, and Roowah; but whatever the spelling, the fort became associated in the minds of the British troops with more angry complainings than any other connected with the war; since it was the scene of a mortifying repulse which better generalship might have avoided, and which was accompanied by the death of a very favourite officer. Rhodamow was a small fort or group of houses enclosed by a high mud-wall, loopholed for musketry, provided with irregular bastions at the angles, and having two gates. It was a petty place, in relation to the largeness of the force about to attack it—nearly six thousand men. While marching through the jungle towards Rohilcund, Walpole heard that fifteen hundred insurgents had thrown themselves into this fort of Rhodamow; but the number proved to be much smaller. He attacked it with infantry without previously using his artillery, and without (as it would appear) a sufficient reconnaissance. He sent on the 42d Highlanders and the 4th Punjaub infantry to take the fort; but no sooner did the troops approach it than they were received by so fierce and unexpected a fire of musketry, from a concealed enemy, that not only was the advance checked, but the gallant Brigadier Adrian Hope was killed at the head of his Highlanders. The troops could not immediately and effectually reply to this fire, for their opponents were hidden behind the loopholed wall. Everything seems to have been thrown into confusion by this first fatal mistake; the supports were sent up too late, or to the wrong place; and the exasperated troops were forced to retire, amid yells of triumph from the enemy. The heavy guns were then brought to do that which they ought to have done at first; they began to breach the wall, but the enemy quietly evacuated the fort during the night, with scarcely any loss. Besides Adrian Hope, several other officers were either killed or wounded, and nearly a hundred rank and file. During this mortifying disaster, in which the Highlanders were particularly unfortunate in the loss of officers, Quartermaster Sergeant Simpson, of the 42d, displayed that daring spirit of gallantry which so endears a soldier to his companions. When the infantry had been recalled from the attack, Simpson heard that two officers of his regiment had been left behind, dead or wounded in the ditch outside the wall. He rushed out, seized the body of Captain Bromley, and brought it back amid a torrent of musketry; setting forth again, he brought in the body of Captain Douglas in a similar way, and he did not cease until seven had been thus brought away—to be recovered if only wounded, to be decently interred if dead. It was a day, however, the memory of which could not be sweetened by any such displays of gallantry, or by many subsequent victories; the men of the two Highland regiments felt as if a deep personal injury had been inflicted on them by the commander of the column. Sir Colin Campbell, when the news of this untoward event reached him, paid a marked compliment to Adrian Hope in his dispatch. ‘The death of this most distinguished and gallant officer causes the deepest grief to the commander-in-chief. Still young in years, he had risen to high command; and by his undaunted courage, combined as it was with extreme kindness and charm of manner, had secured the confidence of his brigade in no ordinary degree.’ Viscount Canning, in a like spirit, officially notified that ‘no more mournful duty has fallen upon the governor-general in the course of the present contest than that of recording the premature death of this distinguished young commander.’

General Walpole pursued his march, and had a successful encounter on the 22d with a large body of the enemy at Sirsa. His cavalry and artillery attacked them so vigorously as to capture their guns and camp, and to drive them over the Ramgunga in such haste as to leave them no time for destroying the bridge of boats at that place. This achievement was fortunate, for it enabled Walpole on the 23d to transport his heavy guns quickly and safely over the Ramgunga at Allygunje. A few days after this, he was joined by the commander-in-chief, whose movements we must next notice.

It was immediately after Sir Colin Campbell’s return from his interview with the governor-general at Allahabad, that he withdrew from Lucknow all the remaining troops, except those destined for the defence of that important city, and for the re-establishment of British influence in Oude. He formed an expeditionary army, which he headed himself—or rather, the army set forth from Lucknow to Cawnpore, and the commander-in-chief joined it at the last-named place on the 17th of April. The result of the conference at Allahabad had been, a determination to march up the Doab to Furruckabad, and to attack the Rohilcund rebels on a side where neither Jones nor Walpole could well reach them. The heat was great, the rivers were rising, and the rains were coming in a few weeks; and it became now a question whether the movements from Lucknow as a centre had or had not been too long delayed. Sir Colin with his column—for, being a mere remnant, it was too small a force to designate an army—took their departure from Cawnpore on the 18th, leaving that city in the hands of a small but (at present) sufficient body of troops. On the 19th he advanced to Kilianpore, on the 20th to Poorah, and on the 21st to Urrowl—marching during early morn, and encamping in the hotter hours of the day. The day’s work commenced, indeed, so early as one o’clock in the morning; when the elephants and camels began to be loaded with their burdens, the equipage and tents packed up, and the marching arrangements completed. Between two or three o’clock, all being in readiness, away went infantry, cavalry, artillery, engineers, commissariat, and a countless host of natives, horses, camels, elephants, bullocks, and vehicles—covering an area of which the real soldiers occupied but a very small part. They marched or rode till about six o’clock; when all prepared for breakfast, and for a hot day during which little active exertion was possible without imminent danger of _coup de soleil_. Sir Colin’s train of munition and supplies was enormous; for, in addition to the usual baggage of an army, he had to take large commissariat supplies with him. The villagers held aloof in a manner not usual in the earlier stages of the mutiny, and in other parts of India; they did not come forward to engage in a traffic which would certainly have been profitable to them, in selling provisions to the army. Whether this arose from inability or disinclination, was a matter for controversy; but the fact itself occasioned embarrassment and uneasiness to a commander who had to drag with his army a huge train of animals and vehicles filled with food. The enormous number of natives, too, that accompanied the force, with their wives and families, exerted its usual cumbrous effect on the movements of the troops; so that the fighting-men themselves bore but a minute fractional ratio to the living and dead accompaniments of the column. It is useless to complain of this. An army of five thousand, or any other number, of British troops _must_ have a large train of native attendants, to contend against the peculiarities of Indian climate and Indian customs. Mr Russell, marching with this portion of the late ‘Army of Oude,’ said: ‘If the people we see around us, who are ten or twelve to one as compared with us in this camp, were—not to arm and cut our throats, or poison us, or anything of that kind—but simply bid us a silent good-bye this night, and leave us, India would be lost to us in a day. It requires only that, and all the power of England could not hold the eastern empire. We could not even strike our tents without these men to-morrow. We are dependent on them—even the common soldier is—for the water we drink and the meals we eat, for our transport, for all but the air we breathe; and the latter, it must be admitted, is not improved by them sometimes. The moment that such a thing becomes possible as a popular desertion, through patriotic or any other motives, from the service of the state, it becomes impossible to hold India except upon sufferance. It is the rupee, self-interest, and the necessities of a population trained to follow camps, which afford guarantees against such a secession—unlikely enough indeed in any nation, and scarcely possible in any war.... We are, in fact, waging war against Hindoos and Mussulmans by the aid and with the consent of other Hindoos and Mussulmans, just as Alexander was able to beat Porus by the aid of his Indian allies; and no European or other state can ever rule in India without the co-operation and assistance of a large proportion of the races which inhabit the vast peninsula.’

Sir Colin marched on the 22d to Meerun-ke-serai, near the ruins of the ancient city of Canouje; on the 23d to Gosaigunje; and on the 24th to Kamalgunje—approaching each day nearer to Furruckabad. Every day’s camping-ground was selected near the Ganges, both for the sake of salubrity, and to check if possible the passage of rebel bands over the river from Oude into the Doab. On the 25th the column reached Furruckabad, or rather the adjacent English station of Futteghur. General Penny came from a neighbouring district to confer with the commander-in-chief on matters connected with the Rohilcund campaign, and then returned to the column or brigade which he commanded. Futteghur had regained a part of its former importance, as the place where most of the artillery-carriages and sepoy-clothing were made, and where vast quantities of timber and cloth had fallen as spoil to the enemy.

The sojourn at Futteghur was very brief. The electric telegraph had been busy transmitting information to and from Allahabad; and as Sir Colin’s plans were already made, he lost no time in putting them in execution. The main plan comprised four movements—Campbell from Futteghur, Walpole from Lucknow, Jones from Roorkee, and Penny from Puttealee; all intended to hem the rebels into the middle of Rohilcund, and there crush them. The marches of Walpole and Jones have already been noticed; Penny was to march his column towards Meerunpore Muttra, between Shahjehanpoor and Bareilly, after crossing the Ganges near Nudowlee; while the commander-in-chief was to enter Rohilcund directly from Futteghur. In the middle of the night between the 26th and 27th his column, elephants and guns and all, crossed the Ganges by the bridge of boats, and entered the province which was to be a scene of hostilities. After a few hours the column reached the river Ramgunga, which it crossed by the bridge of boats fortunately secured by Walpole as the fruit of his victory at Allygunje; and soon afterwards the commander-in-chief effected a junction with Walpole, at Tingree near the Ramgunga. No very long time for repose was allowed; stern work was to be done, and the sooner commenced, the less would it be checked by heat and prohibited by rains. A march of a few hours brought the now united columns to Jelalabad—one of many places of that name in India. It was a fort which had lately been occupied by a small body of matchlockmen, who had precipitately abandoned it when news of Sir Colin’s approach reached them. A small village lay near, and was governed by the fort. The Moulvie of Fyzabad was believed to have intended to make a stand at this place, but to have abandoned it for a larger stronghold at Shahjehanpoor. On the 29th, a further approach was made to Kanth. Each day was pretty well like that which preceded it—the same early marching, camping, and resting, and the same struggle with the camp-followers, who, however closely watched, pertinaciously plundered the villages through or near which they passed—thereby terrifying and exasperating all villagers alike, whether friendly or unfriendly to the British. This system of plunder by the camp-followers was one of the greatest troubles to which the generals of the several columns were exposed; severe punishments were threatened, but all in vain.

It was on the last day of the month that Sir Colin Campbell and General Walpole arrived at Shahjehanpoor; and then it was to learn that the wily and active Moulvie had again outmanœuvred them. The plan had been to draw a cordon more and more closely round the rebels at Shahjehanpoor and Bareilly, and thus to catch them as in a trap. But the Moulvie would not enter the trap. He held Shahjehanpoor, with a considerable force of men and guns, as long as he deemed it safe, and then escaped just at the right moment. It was well to regain Shahjehanpoor, after that place had been eleven months in the hands of rebels; but it was vexing to learn that the Moulvie had retreated towards Oude—the very province where his presence was least desired by the British. Nena Sahib, it was also ascertained, had quitted Shahjehanpoor a few days earlier, and just before leaving, had ordered the government buildings to be destroyed, in order that the British troops might find no shelter when they arrived. This cowardly, ruthless, but active and inventive chieftain succeeded in his aim in this matter; there were few roofed buildings left, and the encampment had to be effected under a tope of trees, with earthen intrenchments thrown up around.

It is evident, from this summary of Rohilcund affairs, that the operations against the rebels in that province did not advance far during the month of April, as concerns any effective crushing of the rebellion. The insurgents were beaten wherever met with; but their ubiquity and vitality greatly puzzled Sir Colin and his brigadier; and it remained to be seen how far the month of May would witness the re-establishment of British authority in Rohilcund and Oude. Some of the columns and field-forces had penetrated from the east and south as far as Shahjehanpoor, others from the west and northwest as far as Mooradabad; but Bareilly, the chief city in Rohilcund, had not been reached by any of them at the end of April.

Few events caused more regret in the army at this period than the death of Captain Sir William Peel, the gallant seaman who had earned so high a reputation as commander of the Naval Brigade. After his wound, received at Lucknow, he was carried in a doolie or litter to Cawnpore; and when at that station he gradually became able to walk about slowly by the aid of a stick. He soon, however, exhibited symptoms of small-pox, which, acting on a system at once ardent and debilitated, proved fatal. He died at Cawnpore after Sir Colin Campbell’s force had departed from that place towards Futteghur; and thus the Queen and the country lost the services of an eminent son of an eminent statesman. Every one felt the justice of the special compliment paid to this gallant naval officer by the governor-general, in the official order issued immediately on the receipt of the news of Peel’s death.[168] Throughout the Crimean, Persian, and Indian wars, the British navy had been engaged in less fighting than many of its ardent members wished; and it was therefore all the more incumbent on the authorities to notice the exertions of naval brigades when on shore.

Throughout the extent of the Upper Doab, the British officers found much difficulty in maintaining a fair stand against the rebels. Not that there were large bodies of trained sepoys in the field, as in the regions just described, and in Central India; but there were numerous chieftains, each at the head of a small band of followers, ready to harass any spot not protected by English troops. Brigadier Penny, in command of a field-force organised at Delhi, was watching the district between that city and the Ganges—ready to put down insurgents wherever he could encounter them, and hoping to assist the commander-in-chief in Rohilcund. Another column, under Brigadier Seaton, controlled the region around Futteghur before Sir Colin reached that place; and he, like Penny, Jones, Walpole, Hope Grant, Lugard, and all the other commanders of sections of the army, found an active watchfulness of the enemy necessary. One among Seaton’s engagements in the month of April may be briefly noticed. On the 6th, when evening had darkened into night, he marched from Futteghur to attack a body of rebels concerning whom he had received information. He took with him about 1400 men—comprising 600 of H.M. 82d under Colonel Hall, 400 Sikhs under Captain Stafford, 150 cavalry under Lieutenant St John, and 200 of the Futteghur mounted-police battalion under Lieutenant de Kantzow—together with five guns under Major Smith. After marching all night, Seaton came up with the enemy at seven in the morning, at a place called Kankur. The enemy’s force was very large, though not well organised, and included nearly a thousand troopers well mounted and armed. After an artillery-fire on both sides, and a sharp fire from Enfield rifles, the 82d rushed forward, entered the village, and worked terrible execution. The rebels fled, abandoning their camp, ammunition, and stores; together with papers and correspondence which threw light on some of the hitherto obscure proceedings of the mutineers. The rebel Rajah of Minpooree was the chief leader of the insurgents, and with him were Ismael Khan and Mohson Ali Khan.

The Minpooree district was much troubled by this rebellious rajah; but as Futteghur on the one side, and Agra on the other, were now in English hands, the rebels were more readily kept in subjection. Agra itself was safe, and so was the main line of road thence through Muttra to Delhi.

One of the few pleasant scenes of the month, at Delhi, was the awarding of honour and profit to a native who had befriended Europeans in the hour of greatest need. Ten months before, when mutiny was still new and terrible, the native troops at Bhurtpore rose in revolt, and compelled the Europeans in the neighbourhood to flee for their lives. The poor fugitives, thirty-two in number—chiefly women and children—roamed from place to place, uncertain where they might sleep in peace. On one day they arrived at the village of Mahonah. Here they met with one Hidayut Ali, a ressaldar (troop-captain), of a regiment of irregular cavalry which had mutinied at Mozuffernugger; he was on furlough or leave of absence at his native village, and did not join his mutinous companions. He received the fugitives with kindness and courtesy, fed them liberally, gave them a comfortable house, renewed their toil-worn garments, posted village sentries to give notice of the approach of any mutineers, disregarded a rebuke sent to him by the insurgents at Delhi, formed the villagers into an escort, and finally placed the thirty-two fugitives in a position which enabled them safely to reach Agra. This noble conduct was not forgotten. In April the commissioner held a grand durbar at Delhi, made a complimentary speech to Hidayut Ali, presented him with a sword valued at a thousand rupees, and announced that the government intended to bestow upon him the jaghire or revenues of his native village.

Good-fortune continued to mark the wide and important region of the Punjaub, in the absence of any of those great assemblages of rebels which so distracted the provinces further to the southeast. Nevertheless Sir John Lawrence found a demand on him for unceasing watchfulness. The longer the struggle continued in Hindostan and Central India, the more danger was there that the Punjaubees, imbibing an idea that the British were weak, would encourage a hope of regaining national independence. There was also a grave question involved in the constitution of the native army. When the troubles began in the month of May, and when Canning was beset with so many difficulties in his attempt to send up troops from Calcutta, John Lawrence came to the rescue in a manner deserving the lasting gratitude of all concerned in the maintenance of British rule in India. He felt a trusty reliance that the inhabitants of the Punjaub, governed as he (aided by Montgomery, Cotton, Edwardes, and other energetic men) had governed them, would remain faithful, and would be willing to accept active service as soldiers in British pay. His trust was well founded. He sent to Delhi those troops, without which the conquest of the city could not have been effected; and he continued to raise regiment after regiment of Sikhs and Punjaubees—equipping, drilling, and paying a number so large as to constitute in itself a powerful army. But there would necessarily be a limit to this process. The Sikhs were faithful so far; but what if they should begin to feel their power, and turn to a national object the arms which had been given to them to fight in the British cause? Not many years had elapsed since they had fought fiercely at Moultan and Lahore, Sobraon and Chillianwalla, Moodkee and Ferozshah, against those very English whom they were now defending; and it was at least possible, if not probable, that dreams of reconquest might occupy their thoughts. Sir John Lawrence brought to an end his further raising of regiments; and there can be little doubt that the governor-general and the commander-in-chief appreciated the motives by which he had been influenced. In political affairs the Punjaub was very active; for not only did Lawrence become chief authority over a larger region than before, but many of his assistants were taken away from him. When Sir James Outram went to Calcutta as a member of the supreme council, Mr Montgomery was appointed chief-commissioner of Oude, and took with him many of the most experienced civilians from Lahore to Lucknow. This necessitated great changes in the _personnel_ of the Punjaub civil service, the commissionerships and sub-commissionerships of districts, &c.

Peshawur, the most remote portion of Northwest India, was throughout the period of the Revolt more troubled by marauding mountaineers than by revolted sepoys. Very few Hindoos inhabited that region; the population was mostly Mussulman, especially among the hills; and these followers of Islam had but little sympathy with those in Hindostan Proper. The disturbances, such as they were, were of local character. In April, it became necessary to visit with some severity certain tribes which throughout the winter had been engaged in rebellion and rapine. General Cotton and Colonel Edwardes, two of the most trusted officers in the Indian army, collected a column at Nowsherah for service against the hill-men; and at the close of the month there were nearly four thousand men in rendezvous, ready for service. It comprised detachments of H.M. 81st and 98th foot; of the 8th, 9th, and 18th Punjaub infantry; of other native infantry; of the 7th and 18th irregular cavalry; of the Guide cavalry; and of various artillery and engineer corps. On the 28th of the month, Cotton was at a place among the hills called Mungultana, a stronghold of some of the frontier fanatics. The place was easily taken, and the insurgents dispersed; as they were at Jelemkhana, Sitana, and other places, soon afterwards; but it was hard work for the troops, over very bad roadless tracks in hot weather.

It was a strange but hopeful sign that, amid all the sanguinary proceedings in India—the ruthless barbarities of some among the sepoys and rebels, and the military retributions wrought by the British—amid all this, the peaceful, civilising agency of railways was steadily though slowly advancing. A recent chapter shewed that the grand trunk-railway was extended into the Doab, the very hot-bed of insurrection, during the month of March: the engineers, mechanics, and labourers having been accustomed to resume their operations as soon as the insurgents were driven away from any spot where the works were in progress. In the Madras and Bombay presidencies, little affected by rebellion, various railways were gradually advancing; and now, in the month of April, the province of Sinde was to have its heyday of railway rejoicing. In an earlier portion of the volume,[169] a brief account was given of the schemes, present and prospective, for supplying India with railways. Among those was one for a line, 120 miles in length, from Kurachee to Hydrabad in Sinde: expected, if no difficulties intervened, to be finished towards the close of 1859. This was to be one link in a vast and extensive chain, if the hopes of its projectors were ever realised. Kurachee is not at the mouth of the Indus; but it has an excellent harbour, in which large merchantmen can cast anchor; and engineers were enabled to shew that a little over one hundred miles of railway would connect this port with the Indus at a point above the delta of that river, and just where Hydrabad, the chief city of Sinde, is situated. Such a railway would, in fact, bear a remarkably close analogy to that in Egypt, from Alexandria to Cairo—each connecting a seaport with a capital, and avoiding delta navigation much impeded by shallows and shifting sands. From Hydrabad there are 570 miles of Indus available for river-steaming up to Moultan, in the Punjaub. From that city a railway would be planned through Lahore to Umritsir, where a junction would be formed with the grand trunk-line, and thus Kurachee connected with Calcutta by rapid means of travel—a great scheme, worthy of the age and the country. It could, however, only have small beginnings. On the 29th of April, the first sod of the ‘Sinde Railway’ was turned at Kurachee. It would be well if all rejoicings were based on such rational grounds as those which marked that day in the young Alexandria of Western India. Mr Frere, commissioner of Sinde, presided over the ceremonies. All was gaiety. The 51st regiment lent its aid in military pomp; and all the notabilities of the place—political, military, naval, clerical, commercial, and engineering—were gathered together. And not only so; but the lookers-on comprised many of those who well marvelled what a railway could be, and how a carriage could move without visible means of draught or propulsion—Parsees, Hindoos, Beloochees, Sindians, Afghans, Punjaubees—all were there, with their picturesque garments, and their little less picturesque native vehicles. How the officiating dignitary turned the sod and wheeled the barrow; how the band played and the people cheered; how the chief personages celebrated the event by a dinner; how, at that dinner, a triumphant specimen of confectionary was displayed, comprising sweetmeat Kurachees, Calcuttas, rivers, mosques, ghats, temples, wheelbarrows, pick-axes, rails, locomotives, bridges, tunnels—need not be told: they belong to one remarkable aspect of modern European and American society, which becomes doubly interesting when exhibited among the less active, more sensuous orientals.

We now turn to that stormy, unsettled region southwest of the Jumna, comprising Bundelcund, Central India, and Rajpootana.

Probably no commander had a series of more uninterrupted successes during the wars of the mutiny than Sir Hugh Rose. Looking neither to Calcutta nor to the Punjaub, for aid, but relying on the resources of the Bombay presidency, he gradually accumulated a force for service in Central India which defeated the rebels wherever they were met with. We have seen that, in January, Sir Hugh was busily engaged in defeating and dispersing rebels at Ratgurh, and in various parts of the district between Bhopal and Saugor. We find him in February relieving the British garrison which had for so many months been shut up within the fort of the last-named city, and then clearing a vast range of country in the direction of Jhansi. Lastly, we have seen how, after subduing a district in which rebellious Mahrattas were very numerous, he approached nearer and nearer to Jhansi during the early weeks of March; that he arrived within a short distance of that city on the 21st of that month, with the second brigade of the Central India field-force; that the rebels fortified the walls of the town, and shut themselves up within the town and fort; that the mutinied sepoys and rebel Bundelas in the place were computed at eleven or twelve thousand; that the Ranee of Jhansi had left her palace to seek greater safety in the fort; that Rose’s first brigade joined him on the 25th; and that he then commenced the siege in a determined manner. From this point, the narrative of Sir Hugh’s operations may be carried into the following month.

Before the first week in April had terminated, this distinguished general had gained very considerable advantages over the enemy. At daybreak on the first of the month, his force encountered an army of the enemy outside the walls of Jhansi, and completely defeated them. The rebels were commanded by a Mahratta chieftain, Tanteea Topee, a relative of Nena Sahib, who had marched thither in the hope of being able to relieve his brother rebels shut up within the beleaguered city. Sir Hugh divided his force into two parts—one to continue the siege, and the other to meet Tanteea Topee in the field. The rebels, including among their number two regiments of the traitorous Gwalior Contingent, fought desperately; but Rose succeeded in turning their left flank with artillery and cavalry, breaking up their array, and putting them to flight. It was a severe contest, for the rebels defended themselves individually to the last, even when their order of battle was broken. Rose pursued them to the river Betwah, and captured all their guns and ammunition. During the pursuit, they endeavoured to check him by setting the jungle on fire; but his cavalry and horse-artillery, nothing daunted, galloped through the flames, and kept close at the heels of the fugitives. The whole line of retreat became strewed with dead bodies; and it was estimated that the day’s sanguinary work had cost the enemy not less than fifteen hundred men.

This battle was followed by a result more favourable than Sir Hugh had ventured to hope. The ranee, shut up within Jhansi, well knew that Tanteea Topee was hastening to her assistance; for there was everywhere an intercommunication between the insurgents too close for the British to baffle. She knew of his approach, and hoped that he would be able to defeat and drive away the besiegers; but the battle of the Betwah dismayed her, and the result was very favourable to the British. In arranging for the siege, Sir Hugh divided his infantry into four detachments, two on the right and two on the left. H.M. 86th, and the 25th Bombay infantry, soon gained the walls, some by breach and others by escalade. Lieutenant Dartnell of the 86th, who was foremost in the assault, narrowly escaped being cut to pieces directly he entered the place. These two regiments were on the left attack. The attack on the right was less successful, owing to the use of defective ladders; the troops were for some time exposed to a murderous fire; but at length they entered the place, and joined their companions near the ranee’s palace. A discovery was now made. The ranee had evacuated the place during the night, with such of her troops as could break through the cordon which Rose endeavoured to draw round Jhansi. In the endeavour of the garrison to escape, the slaughter was terrible; insomuch that, during the storming of the fort and the pursuit of the garrison, more than three thousand of the rebels were laid low, besides the fifteen hundred during the battle. Much of this slaughter was within the city itself; for the towns-people were believed to have favoured the rebels, and the soldiers took severe vengeance before their officers could check the bloodshed. All this stern fighting could not be carried on without loss on the part of the British. Sir Hugh had to lament the fall of Lieutenant-colonel Turnbull, Captain Sinclair, Lieutenants Meicklejohn and Park, and Dr Stack, besides a number of non-commissioned officers and privates. The evacuation of the place in so sudden a way greatly lessened his chance of loss, for its defence might have been long continued. ‘Jhansi,’ he said in his telegraphic dispatch, ‘is not a fort, but its strength makes it a fortress; it could not have been breached; it could only have been taken by mining and blowing up one bastion after another.’

After this signal defeat of the rebels at Jhansi, the victorious army of Sir Hugh gradually prepared to move towards Calpee, a town on the Jumna, on the line of road from Jhansi to Cawnpore. Symptoms appeared to shew that a struggle would take place at this spot. Two rebel leaders made renewed exertions to regain lost ground in that region. The chief of these was Tanteea Topee, lately defeated at Jhansi; he had with him two mutinied infantry regiments, seven hundred cavalry, a large following of Ghazees or fanatics, and twelve guns. The other was Ram Rao Gobind, who had the command of three thousand rabble and four guns. These two leaders resolved to act on some common plan; and Sir Hugh Rose equally resolved to defeat them. Nevertheless this gallant officer had much need for careful planning long after he was master of Jhansi. He had a large number of sick and wounded, whose safety it would be necessary to provide for; and the roads around that city were still infested with remnants of the Kotah rebels and the Chanderee garrison. He himself remained at Jhansi until such time as he could resume his march without danger to those left behind; but he gave active employment to portions of his force. About the middle of the month he sent Major Orr with a column from Jhansi across the Betwah to Mhow, to clear that part of the country of rebels, and afterwards to join Rose and the main body of the force on the road to Calpee; the major had many small encounters with the rajahs of Bampore and Shagurh, and with detached parties of rebels. Some days afterwards, on the 21st, Sir Hugh despatched Major Gall, with detachments of cavalry and artillery, to a point on the Calpee road, to watch the enemy and aid Major Orr if necessary. Gall, besides other minor engagements, captured a fort belonging to the Rajah of Sumpter; the rebels in it proved to be disguised mutineers of the 12th Bengal native infantry, who fought desperately until all were killed. Sir Hugh, with his first brigade and head-quarters, did not take his departure from Jhansi until the 25th. He marched ten miles that day to Boregaum, on the Calpee road, and resumed his progress on subsequent days. His second brigade was soon to follow him—with the exception of detachments of the 3d Bombay Europeans, the 24th Bombay native infantry, and artillery, left under the charge of Colonel Liddell to protect Jhansi and the sick and wounded. Rumours reached Sir Hugh that four of the rebel leaders—the Ranee of Jhansi, Tanteea Topee, the Rajah of Shagurh, and the Rajah of Bampore—with seven thousand men and four guns, intended if possible to intercept him, and prevent his march to Calpee. To what result all these manœuvres on both sides led, was left to the month of May to determine.

While these operations were going on in and near the Jhansi district, General Whitlock, with a column of Madras troops, was engaged a little further eastward, in a district of Bundelcund having Banda for its chief town. He was frequently in contact with large or small bodies of rebels. One of these struggles took place on the 19th of April, when he encountered a force of seven thousand insurgents headed by the Nawab of Banda. Whitlock defeated the Nawab, captured Banda, killed five hundred of the enemy, and took several guns. After this victory, he gradually worked his way towards Calpee, to aid in Rose’s operations.

The city of Saugor remained in a somewhat peculiar condition during the spring months—secure itself, but surrounded by a disturbed district. The European residents were living in cantonments, sufficiently protected by troops left there by General Whitlock after he relieved the place early in February. These troops were neither stationary nor idle; the vicinity was swarming with rebels and malcontents, whom it was necessary to check by frequent pursuit and defeat. Those two exceptions to the generally mutinous condition of the Bengal native army, the 31st and 42d regiments, still remained in and near Saugor—or such portions of them as had not become tainted by insubordination. Divided into small detachments, they assisted the European and Madras troops in keeping open the line of communication between Saugor and the district marked by the victorious operations of Sir Hugh Rose.

Turning to the Mahratta and Rajpootana states, we find that, on the 2d of April, a large body of rebels, many thousands in number, with ten guns, crossed the Parbuttee river at Copoind into Scindia’s Gwalior territory. They were fleeing from Kotah, where a British force had severely handled them. Scindia still remained true to his alliance. Many of his officers, each with a small force, opposed the rebels at different points, drove them back across the river, and overturned many of their guns and wagons in the stream. The rebels, accompanied by large numbers of women and children, made their way by other routes towards Bundelcund.

Kotah, just mentioned, was closely connected with the insurgent and military operations in Rajpootana. It will be remembered[170] that in the month of March General Roberts, commanding the Rajpootana field-force, marched from Nuseerabad towards Kotah, accompanied by Richard Lawrence as political representative; that many difficulties had to be surmounted on the march; that Kotah was reached on the 22d; and that Roberts captured that place just before the end of the month, defeating a large body of rebels, and obtaining possession of an extensive store of ordnance and ammunition. After this victory, Roberts remained a long time at Kotah. Many other places would have welcomed his appearance; but there were doubts how far Kotah could safely be left, seeing that the neighbourhood was in a very disaffected state. The Kotah rebels, on the other hand, were greatly disconcerted at the news of the fall of Jhansi, which interfered with their plans and hopes. They had been camping for a while at Kularus, on the road from Gwalior to Bombay, but began now to move off towards the south. Captain Mayne, with some of Scindia’s troops, was at that place on the 11th of April, and found that the Kotah rebels, about four thousand strong, with six guns, had joined the rebel Rajah of Nirwur, six miles distant. Captain Mayne was preparing to watch and follow them, but the troops at his command consisted of only a few hundred men, and he could do little more than reconnoitre. Later in the month, General Roberts organised a column to look after the rebels at Goonah, Chupra, and other places. The column consisted of H.M. 95th foot, the 10th Bombay native infantry, a wing of the 8th hussars, a wing of the 1st lancers, and a troop of horse-artillery; and it started from Kotah for active service on the 24th. Thus the month of April passed away; Roberts himself remaining at Kotah; while some of his officers, each with a detachment of the Rajpootana field-force, were engaged in chastising bodies of rebels in the turbulent region on the border of the Rajpoot and Mahratta territories. Like Sir Hugh Rose at Jhansi, he had to consider how his conquered city would fare if he quitted it.

The province of Gujerat, lying as it does between Rajpootana and Bombay, was narrowly watched by the government of that presidency; and as one precaution, all the inhabitants were disarmed. On the 8th of April, a field-force, comprising about a thousand men of all arms, left Ahmedabad to conduct the disarming. Another column of about the same strength was preparing to march from the same station about a week later. It was expected that the difficulties of the troops would arise, not so much from the opposition of the natives, as from the gradually increasing heat of the weather.

Southward of Bombay there was still, as in the earlier months of the year, just so much of insubordination as to need careful watching on the part of the government, but without presenting any very alarming symptoms. The small Mahratta state of Satara was a little troubled. Two officers of the recently deposed rajah, his commander-in-chief and his commandant of artillery, were detected in treasonable correspondence with Nena Sahib. One of them, having been found guilty, was sentenced to be hanged; the indignity struck with horror one imbued with high-caste notions, and he asked to be blown away from a gun as a more noble death; this was refused; and under the influence of dismay and grief, he made a confession which afforded a clue to a further conspiracy. There was much in these southern Mahrattas which puzzled the authorities. To what extent the natives were bound into a brotherhood by secret compact, the English never could and never did know. Much comment was excited by an occurrence at Kolapore, where two native officers were blown away from guns, on conviction of being concerned in the mutiny and rebellion. It was remembered that those very men had sat on courts-martial which condemned numbers of their fellow-mutineers to the same punishment which was their own ultimate doom. One of the principal witnesses against them was a colleague whom they had sentenced to death, but who escaped by making a confession which implicated them. Many others, however, condemned by the court of which these two men were members, died without making a similar confession, although it was believed that they also might have implicated their judges.

Note.

_Native Police of India._—So peculiar was the position of the native police of India—as a medium between the military and the civilians, and between the government and the people—that it may be desirable to say a few words on the organisation of that body. All parties agreed that this organisation was defective in many points, and numerous reforms were suggested; but the Revolt found the police system still in force unreformed. The information here given is obtained chiefly from a dispatch sent from the India House about six months before the Revolt began, at a time when few or none saw the dark shadow that was hovering over our eastern empire.

In Bengal, each district was subdivided into smaller jurisdictions, each having its local police. The police were charged with duties both preventive and detective. They were prohibited from inquiring into cases of a petty nature; but complaints in cases of a more serious character were usually laid before the police _darogah_—whose duties were something more than those of an English police superintendent, something less than those of an English magistrate. The darogah was authorised to examine the complaints brought before him, to issue process of arrest, to summon witnesses, to examine the accused, and to forward the case to the magistrate or collector-magistrate, or submit a report of his proceedings, according as the evidence seemed to warrant the one or the other course.

In the Northwest Provinces the native revenue-officers called _tehsildars_ were, at the discretion of the government, invested with the powers of police darogahs; whereas in Bengal the revenue service was kept wholly distinct from the police or magisterial.

In the Madras presidency, the duties ordinarily performed in Bengal by the police darogahs were, even more generally than in the Northwest Provinces, performed by the tehsildar; indeed it was a recognised part of the system that the tehsildar and the darogah were the same person. This double function carried with it an increase of power. The Madras tehsildar-darogah was authorised, not only to inquire into petty cases (which the Bengal darogah was prohibited from doing), but also to proceed in certain specified instances to judgment, sentence, and the infliction of punishment.

In the Bombay presidency, the revenue and police functions were, until a recent period, combined in the same way as in Madras. The tehsildars, besides their revenue duties, were authorised in their police capacity to investigate all complaints of a criminal nature, and to exercise a penal jurisdiction in respect of certain petty offences. Within a few months before the Revolt, however, a change was made in the organisation. A new officer, a superintendent of police, was placed under the magistrate. The magistrate, confining himself for the most part to judicial and administrative matters, left to his superintendent of police the control of the executive police and the command of the entire stipendiary body, with the initiative in the prevention and detection of crime. To aid this superintendent in the supervision of the district police, there was placed in each police division an officer called joint-police _amildar_; whose duties, in regard to the preservation of the public peace and the investigation of serious crimes, were nearly similar to those of the Bengal darogah, but without including any power of punishing even for the most trivial offences.

It thus appears that, apart from the penal powers exercised by the Madras district police, the Bengal _darogah_, the Madras _tehsildar_, and the Bombay _amildar_, all acted to a certain extent judicially when engaged in investigating crimes of a serious nature. They examined the parties and the evidence, and they formed a judgment on the case to the extent of deciding whether it was one for the immediate arrest of the accused and transmission to the magistrate, or otherwise.

No doubt the founders of this police system anticipated beneficial results from it; but those results were not obtained. It was very inefficient for the detection of crime, and almost useless for prevention. There were defects both in organisation and in procedure. The police force attached to each division was too much localised and isolated; and the notion of combination between any separate parts of it, with a view of accomplishing extensive police objects, was seldom entertained. Although unable to check crime to the extent intended and hoped for, the police were very unscrupulous in their mode of wielding their authority, and bore a very general character for oppression and corruption. The great source of mischief was found to be, the want of efficient control and overlooking. The native police had a proneness to oriental modes of administering justice, in which bribery and barbarity perform a great part: this tendency required to be constantly checked by Europeans; and if the magistrate or collector-magistrate found his time too fully occupied to exercise this supervision, the police wrought much mischief, and brought the English ‘raj’ into disfavour. Where the district was smaller than usual, or where the magistrate was more than commonly zealous and active, the police were found to be more efficient through more supervision. Whenever it was found necessary to grapple effectually with any particular crimes, such as _thuggee_ or _dacoitee_, the ordinary police proved to be wholly useless; an entirely separate instrumentality was needed. Besides the want of effective supervision, the native police were underpaid, and had therefore an excuse for listening to the temptations of bribery.

In the dispatch already adverted to, written by the Court of Directors, a course of improvement was pointed out, without which the native police, it was affirmed, could not rise to the proper degree of efficiency. The suggestions were briefly as follows: To separate the police from the administration of the land-revenue, in those provinces where those duties had been customarily united; in order that the native officer should not be intrusted with double functions, each of which would interfere with the other. To subject all the police to frequent visit and inspection, that they might feel the influence of a vigilant eye over them. To relieve the collector-magistrate from this addition to his many duties, by appointing in each district a European officer with no other duty than that of managing the police of the district, subject to a general superintendent of police for each presidency. To increase the salaries of the police, in order that the office might have a higher dignity in the estimation of the natives, and in order that the official might be less tempted to extortion or bribery. To empower the authorities to punish and degrade, more readily than was before possible, those police who oppressed the people or otherwise displayed injustice; and to reward those who displayed more than ordinary intelligence and honesty, a further suggestion was made, arising out of the organisation of the Punjaub under the Lawrences and their coadjutors; in which there was a preventive police with a military organisation, and a wholly distinct detective police with a civil organisation. This system was found to work so well, that the Court of Directors submitted to the Calcutta government an inquiry whether the police generally might not with advantage be thus separated into two parts, preventive and detective, each exercised by a different set of men.

The Revolt broke out before the reform of the police system could commence; and then, like other reforms, it was left to be settled in more peaceful days.

Footnote 165:

The following will give an idea of the mode in which the _Gazette_ announcements were made: ‘24th Bombay N. I.—Lieutenant William Alexander Kerr; date of act of bravery, July 10, 1857.—On the breaking out of a mutiny in the 27th Bombay N. I. in July 1857, a party of the mutineers took up a position in the stronghold or _paga_ near the town of Kolapore, and defended themselves to extremity. “Lieutenant Kerr, of the Southern Mahratta Irregular Horse, took a prominent share in the attack on the position; and at the moment when its capture was of great public importance, he made a dash at one of the gateways, with some dismounted horsemen, and forced an entrance by breaking down the gate. The attack was completely successful, and the defenders were either killed, wounded, or captured—a result that may with perfect justice be attributed to Lieutenant Kerr’s dashing and devoted bravery.” (Letter from the Political Superintendent at Kolapore to the Adjutant-general of the Army, dated September 10, 1857.)’

Footnote 166:

‘Of the dust it is quite beyond the powers of writing to give a description. It is so fine and subtle, that long after the causes which raised it have ceased to exert their influence, you may see it like a veil of gauze between your eyes and every object. The sun, while yet six or seven degrees above the horizon, is hid from sight by it as though the luminary were enveloped in a thick fog; and at early morning and evening, this vapour of dust suspended high in air seems like a rain-cloud clinging to a hillside. When this dust is set rapidly in motion by a hot wind, and when the grosser sand, composed of minute fragments of talc, scales of mica, and earth, is impelled in quick successive waves through the heated atmosphere, the effect is quite sufficient to make one detest India for ever. Every article in your tent, your hair, eyes, and nose, are filled and covered with this dust, which deposits a coating half an inch thick all over the tent.’—W. H. RUSSELL.

Footnote 167:

It may here be remarked that the difficulty of moving heavy ordnance over the bad roads and roadless tracts of India, painfully felt by the artillery officers engaged in the war, suggested to the East India Company an inquiry into the possibility of employing locomotives for such a purpose. A machine, called ‘Boydell’s Traction Engine,’ patented some time before in England, was tested with a view to ascertain the degree of its availability for this purpose. The peculiarity of this engine was, that it was a locomotive _carrying its own railway_. Six flat boards were ranged round each of the great wheels in such a way that each board came in succession _under_ the wheel, and formed, for a few feet, a flat plankroad or tramway for the wheel to roll upon. It was supposed that the vehicle would move much more easily by this contrivance, than if the narrow periphery of the wheel ran upon soft mud or irregular pebbles and gravel. The motion of the wheel placed each plank down at its proper time and place, and lifted it up again, in such a way that there was always one of the boards flat on the ground, beneath the wheel. Colonel Sir Frederick Abbott and Colonel Sir Proby Cautley, on the part of the directors, tested this machine at Woolwich—where it drew forty tons of ordnance along a common road, uphill as well as upon the level. Another road-locomotive, by Messrs Napier, was tested for a similar purpose. The results were of good augury for the future; but the machines were not perfected early enough to be made applicable for the wars of the mutiny.

Footnote 168:

‘_Allahabad, April 30._—It is the melancholy duty of the Right Honourable the Governor-general to announce the death of that most distinguished officer, Captain Sir William Peel, K.C.B., late in command of her Majesty’s ship _Shannon_, and of the Naval Brigade in the Northwest Provinces.

‘Sir William Peel died at Cawnpore, on the 27th instant, of small-pox. He had been wounded at the commencement of the last advance upon Lucknow, but had nearly recovered from the wound, and was on his way to Calcutta, when struck by the disease which has brought his honourable career to an early close.

‘Sir William Peel’s services in the field during the last seven months are well known in India and in England. But it is not so well known how great the value of his presence and example has been wherever during this eventful period his duty has led him.

‘The loss of his daring but thoughtful courage, joined with eminent abilities, is a very heavy one to his country; but it is not more to be deplored than the loss of that influence which his earnest character, admirable temper, and gentle kindly bearing exercised over all within his reach—an influence which was exerted unceasingly for the public good, and of which the governor-general believes that it may with truth be said that there is not a man of any rank or profession who, having been associated with Sir William Peel in these times of anxiety and danger, has not felt and acknowledged it.’

Footnote 169:

Chap. vii., NOTES, p. 119.

Footnote 170:

Chap. xxvi., p. 441.