The History of the Indian Revolt and of the Expeditions to Persia, China and Japan 1856-7-8

One subject connected with the capture of Delhi was curiously illustrative of the state of the public mind as exhibited during the autumn of 1857. Anything less than a sanguinary retaliation for the atrocities committed by the natives in India was in many quarters regarded almost as a treasonable shrinking from justice. Kill, kill, kill all – was the injunction implied, if not expressed. Among the British residents in India this desire for blood was so strong, that it distempered the judgment of persons otherwise amiable and generous. Instead of acting on the principle that it is better for a few guilty to escape than for one innocent man to be punished, the doctrine extensively taught at that time reversed this rule of conduct. It is of course not difficult to account for this. The feelings of those who, a few short months before, had been peacefully engaged in the usual Anglo-Indian mode of life, were suddenly rent by a terrible calamity. Husbands, brothers, sons – wives, sisters, daughters – were not only put to death unjustly, but the black deed was accompanied by brutalities that struck horror into the hearts of all survivors. It was not at such a time that men could judge calmly. The subject is mentioned here because it points to one of the difficulties, almost without parallel in intensity, that pressed upon the nobleman whose fate it was to govern India at such a time. Every proclamation or dispatch, issued by Viscount Canning, which contained instructions to the Company’s officers tending to leniency towards any of the dark skins, was misquoted, misrepresented, violently condemned, and attributed to what in bitter scorn was called the ‘clemency of Canning.’ It required great moral courage, at such a time, to form a definite plan of action, and to maintain it in spite of clamour. Differences of opinion on these difficult matters of state policy are of course reasonable enough; the point is mentioned here only in its historical relation to an almost frenzied state of public opinion at a particular time.

The treatment of the King of Delhi was one of the subjects connected with this state of feeling. When taken a prisoner, the dethroned monarch was not shot. ‘Why is this?’ it was asked. Because Captain Hodson promised the king his life if he would surrender quietly. For a long time this gallant officer was an object of violent abuse for this line of conduct. ‘Why did Hodson dare to do this?’ was the inquiry. It was not until evidence clear and decisive had been afforded, of General Wilson’s sanction having been given to this proceeding, that the subject fell into its proper place as one open to fair and temperate discussion. Again, letters written anonymously at Delhi appeared in the Calcutta newspapers, announcing that the ex-royal family were treated with the most obsequious deference; and the ‘clemency’ was again contrasted with the ‘righteous demand for blood.’ So much of this as was untrue gradually fell out of repute; and then the simple fact became known that the king was to be tried as a traitor, but was not to be treated as a felon until found guilty. Mrs Hodson, wife to the officer who effected the capture, paid a visit to the royal captives, which she described in a highly interesting letter to an English relation, afterwards made public; whatever else it shewed, it afforded no indication that the aged profligate was treated with a degree of luxurious attention offensive to the European residents of the place.103

For all else, Delhi furnished nothing calling for special notice during the six weeks following the siege.

Of two columns, despatched from Delhi to pursue and punish the rebels after the siege, that under Colonel Greathed has already been noticed. A second, under Brigadier Showers, was engaged throughout October, mostly west and northwest of Delhi. Some of the petty rajahs between the Jumna and the Sutlej were in an embarrassing position; they would have drawn down on their heads eventual defeat by the British if they joined the rebels; while they were in immediate danger from the enmity of marauders and mutineers if they remained faithful to the British. To their credit be it said, most of them remained true to their treaties; they assisted the British in a time of trouble to the extent of their means. Especially was this the case in relation to the Rajahs of Jheend and Putialah, without whose friendly aid it would have scarcely been possible for Sir John Lawrence to send reinforcements from the Punjaub to General Wilson at Delhi. An exception was afforded by the Rajah of Jhujjur, whose treacherous conduct earned for him a severe defeat by Brigadier Showers about the middle of October. That officer was, later in the month, actively engaged in defeating and punishing rebels at Sonah, Bullubgurh, and other places.

Of the country north and northeast of Delhi, little need be said. Rohilcund was almost wholly in the hands of the rebels during September and October. In the districts of Bareilly, Boodayoun, Mooradabad, Shahjehanpoor, and Bijnour, the English might be reckoned by tens – so fierce had been the tempest which had swept them away. Happily Nynee Tal still remained a refuge for many non-combatants, who could not yet be safely removed to Calcutta or Bombay. Khan Bahadoor Khan – a notorious offender whose name has more than once been mentioned in these pages, and who, after being a well-paid deputy-collector in the Company’s service, shewed his gratitude by committing great atrocities as self-elected Nawab of Bareilly – planned an attack on Nynee Tal about the middle of September. He sent a force of 800 men, under his nephew, Nizam Ullie Khan. Major Ramsey, however, speedily mustered 300 Goorkhas, and about 50 miscellaneous volunteers and troopers; this force, sallying forth from Nynee Tal on the 18th, encountered the Bareilly rebels at Huldwanee, near the foot of the hills, and gave so effective a defeat to them as to prevent any repetition of the attack for a very long time.

All around the district of Meerut the movements of the rebels were sensibly checked by the fact that that important military station still remained in the hands of the British. After the first day of outbreak (10th of May), Meerut was provisioned and intrenched in such a way as to render it safe from all attacks, especially as the garrison had a good store of artillery; and as small bands of trusty troops could occasionally be spared for temporary expeditions, the mutineers were kept from any very near approach to Meerut itself. The chief annoyance was from the Goojurs and other predatory tribes, who sought to reap a golden harvest from the social anarchy around them.

Happily, the extreme northwest remained nearly at peace. The Punjaub, under the firm control of Sir John Lawrence, although occasionally disturbed by temporary acts of lawlessness, was in general tranquil. A few English troops ascended from Kurachee by way of the Indus and Moultan; and a few native regiments came from Bombay and Sinde; but the Sikhs and Mussulmans of the Punjaub itself were found to be for the most part reliable, under the able hands of Cotton and Edwardes. In Sinde a similar state of affairs was exhibited: a few isolated acts of rebellion, sufficient to set the authorities on the alert without seriously disquieting them. On one occasion a company of native artillery was disarmed at Hydrabad, on suspicion of being tainted with disloyalty. On another occasion the 21st native infantry was disarmed at Kurachee, because twenty or thirty of the men displayed bad symptoms. And on another, a few men of the 16th native infantry were detected in an attempt to excite their companions to mutiny. All these instances tended to shew, that if Sinde had been nearer to Hindostan or Oude, the Bengal portion of the army there stationed would in all probability have revolted; but being in a remote region, and among a people who had few sympathies with Brahmin sepoys, the incendiarism died out for lack of fuel.

Happily, again, the southern or peninsular portion of India was left nearly free from the curse of rebellion during the two months now under notice in Mysore, in the various provinces of the Madras presidency, in the South Mahratta country, and in the provinces around Bombay, the disturbances were few. In the Deccan, the Nizam and his prime minister remained stanch throughout; and although the city of Hyderabad was kept in much commotion by fanatical moulvies and fakeers, and by turbulent Rohillas and Deccanees, there was no actual mutiny of entire regiments, or successful scheme of rebellion. At Ahmedabad, midway between Bombay and the disturbed region of Rajpootana, one of those terrible events occurred on the 26th of October – a blowing away of five men from guns. All the officers whose duty it was to attend on those fearful occasions united in hoping that such a sight might never again meet their eyes.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE RESCUE AT LUCKNOW, BY SIR COLIN CAMPBELL

A little care is needed to avoid confusion in the use of the words ‘siege,’ ‘defence,’ and ‘relief,’ relating to Lucknow – so peculiar and complicated were the military operations in and near that city during the mutiny. In the first place, there was the defence of the Residency by Brigadier Inglis, during July, August, and September: the mutineers and rebels in the city itself being the besiegers. Secondly, in the closing week of September, came the siege of Lucknow city by the British under Havelock, Outram, and Neill: the rebels being the besieged, and Inglis’s little band, still shut up within the Residency enclosure, being unable to take an active part in the operations. Next, for a further period of seven or eight weeks, a renewed defence of the British position was maintained by Havelock, Outram, and Inglis – the mutineers and rebels being, as in the first instance, the besiegers. Then, in the third week of November, occurred a siege of the city by Sir Colin Campbell: the mutineers and rebels being the defenders, and the British inmates of the Residency being enabled to aid the operations of the commander-in-chief. After this, there was another defence of the Alum Bagh against the rebels by Outram, and another siege of Lucknow by Campbell. It follows, therefore, that the ‘siege,’ the ‘defence,’ or the ‘relief’ of Lucknow should not be mentioned without defining the period to which the expression refers.

With this explanatory remark, the scope of the present chapter may be easily shewn. In former pages104 the eventful defence of the Residency at Lucknow from the beginning of July to near the close of September, by Brigadier Inglis, was described; together with the arrival of a small army under Havelock and Outram, and the terrible conflict in the streets of the city. In the present chapter the sequel of the story will be given – shewing how it arose that Havelock and Outram could not escort the suffering women and children, sick and wounded, from Lucknow to a place of safety; how they struggled on for eight weeks longer; what preparations Sir Colin Campbell made to collect an army of relief; how he fought his way to Lucknow; and by what felicitous arrangements he safely brought away those who, from sex, age, sickness, or wounds, were unable to defend themselves against a fierce and relentless enemy.

On the 26th of September, when a few hours’ sleep had closed the agitating proceedings of the previous day, it was found that the ‘relief’ of Lucknow was a relief rather in name than in substance. Sir Henry Havelock surrendered the command which had been generously left in his hands up to this time by a superior officer; Brigadier Inglis surrendered the military control of the intrenched position, or rather continued to hold it under the supervision of another; while Sir James Outram, in virtue of an arrangement previously made, assumed the leadership of all the British forces, and the exercise of all British power, throughout Oude. At present, this leadership and power were of humble dimensions, for he commanded very little more of the province than the few acres at the Residency and the Alum Bagh. Of the gallant troops, under 3000 in number, who, led by Havelock, Outram, and Neill, had left Cawnpore on the 19th of September, nearly one-third were stricken down by the time the Residency was reached. The survivors were too few in number to form a safe escort for the women and children from Lucknow to Cawnpore; the march would have been an awful one, marked by bloodshed at every step; the soldiers, distracted by the double duties of protectors and combatants, would have been too weak for either. They brought muscle and sinew to aid in constructing countermines and batteries; they enlarged the area of the intrenched or fortified position – but they could not rescue those who had so long borne the wonderful siege.

Some of the troops, in charge of guns, baggage, and baggage animals, had defended a position outside the Residency enclosure during the night; and arrangements were now made to secure the new or enlarged area – including the Clock Tower, the Jail, a mosque, the Taree Kothee, the Chuttur Munzil palace, the Fureed Buksh palace, the Pyne Bagh, and other buildings and gardens. It was not without severe fighting and much loss on the 26th that the wounded were placed in safety, the guns secured, and the new position fortified. When these palaces, which had until now been respected, were conquered from the enemy, they were regarded as fair military spoil. The buildings formed a labyrinth of court-yards, inner gardens, balconies, gateways, passages, verandahs, rotundas, outhouses, and pavilions; and all became a scene of plunder. ‘Everywhere,’ says Mr Rees, ‘might be seen people helping themselves to whatever they pleased. Jewels, shawls, dresses, pieces of satin, silk, broadcloths, coverings, rich embroidered velvet saddles for horses and elephants, the most magnificent divan carpets studded with pearls, dresses of cloth of gold, turbans of the most costly brocade, the finest muslins, the most valuable swords and poniards, thousands of flint-guns, caps, muskets, ammunition, cash, books, pictures, European clocks, English clothes, full-dress officers’ uniforms, epaulettes, aiguillettes, manuscripts, charms; vehicles of the most grotesque forms, shaped like fish, dragons, and sea-horses; imauns or representations of the Prophet’s hands, cups, saucers, cooking-utensils, china-ware sufficient to set up fifty merchants in Lombard Street, scientific instruments, ivory telescopes, pistols; and (what was better than all) tobacco, tea, rice, grain, spices, and vegetables.’ There is no proof that much order was observed in the partition or distribution; every one appears to have helped himself to what he pleased; and many collected large stores of useful and ornamental articles which they afterwards sold at high prices. There was a good deal of luxurious living for the first few days, on the savoury provisions found in the palaces; and we may in some degree imagine how this was enjoyed, after such sorry rations of chupatties, stewed peas, and morsels of tough gun-bullock beef. There was, perhaps, something undignified in all this scrambling spoliation that jars with one’s notions of heroism and exalted courage; but military men are accustomed to overlook it in the moment of victory.

When Sir James Outram clearly ascertained that the rebels and mutineers, instead of escaping from the city, were closing in more and more resolutely, he saw that no departure would be practicable either for officers or men, military or civilians, women or children. He endeavoured to open negotiations with Maun Singh, a powerful thalookdar or landowner;105 to win him over to the side of the British, and thereby lessen the difficulties of the position; but the wily Oudian, balancing the relative advantages of loyalty and rebellion, gave specious answers on which no dependence could be placed. It became necessary to prepare for a new defence against a new siege. All the old ‘garrisons’ were strengthened, and new ones formed; all the guns and mortars were placed in effective positions, and all the soldiers told off to regular duties. As Outram and Havelock had brought scarcely any provisions with them into the Residency; and as those found in the palaces were articles of luxury rather than of solid food, a very careful commissariat adjustment became necessary – it being now evident that the daily rations must of necessity be small in quantity and coarse in quality. The enemy renewed their old system of firing, day after day, into the British position; they broke down the bridges over canals and small streams between the Residency and the Alum Bagh; and they captured, or sought to capture, every one who attempted to leave the intrenchment. On the other hand, the British made frequent sorties, to capture guns, blow up buildings, and dislodge parties of the enemy. Six days after the entry of Outram and Havelock, a soldier was found under circumstances not a little strange. Some of the garrison having sallied forth to capture two guns on the Cawnpore road, a private of the Madras Europeans was discovered in a dry well, where the poor fellow had been hiding several days. He had fortunately some tea-leaves and biscuits in his pockets, on which he had managed to support life; he had heard the enemy all round him, but had not dared to utter a sound. The well contained the dead body of a native sepoy; and the atmosphere hence became so pestilential and frightful that the poor European was wont to creep out at night to breathe a little fresh air. Great was his joy when at length he heard friendly voices; he shouted loudly for help, in spite of his exhausted state, and was barely saved from being shot by his countrymen as a rebel, so black and filthy was his appearance.

Throughout the month of October did this state of affairs in Lucknow continue. Outram had brought his guns into the intrenchment by clearing a passage for them through the palaces; he had destroyed Phillips’ or Philip’s Battery, with which the enemy had been accustomed greatly to annoy the garrison; he had blown up and cleared away a mass of buildings on the Cawnpore road; he had strengthened all the points of the position held by himself and Havelock; but still he could neither send aid to the Alum Bagh, nor receive aid from it. He could do nothing but maintain his position, until Sir Colin Campbell should be able to advance from Cawnpore with a new army. A few messages, in spite of the enemy’s vigilance, were sent and received. Outram was glad to learn that a convoy of provisions had reached the Alum Bagh from Cawnpore, and that Greathed was marching down the Doab with a column from Delhi. As for Lucknow itself, matters remained much as before – sorties, firing, blowing up, &c.; but it must at the same time be admitted that Outram was more favourably placed in this respect than Inglis had been; his fighting-men were three or four times as numerous, and were thus enabled to guard all the posts with an amount of labour less terribly exhausting. Danger was, of course, not over; cannon-balls and bullets still did their work. The authoress of the Lady’s Diary on one day recorded: ‘An 18-pounder came through our unfortunate room; it broke the panel of the door, and knocked the whole of the barricade down, upsetting everything. My dressing-table was sent flying through the door, and if the shot had come a little earlier, my head would have gone with it. The box where E. usually sits to nurse baby was smashed flat.’ Breakfasts of chupatties and boiled peas were now seldom relieved by better fare; many a diner rose from his meal nearly as hungry as when he sat down. Personal attire was becoming more and more threadbare. Poor Captain Fulton’s very old flannel-shirt, time-worn and soiled, sold by auction for forty-five rupees – four pounds ten shillings sterling.

Little news could be obtained from the city itself, beyond the limits of the British position; but that little tended to shew that the rebels had set up a natural son of the deposed king as ‘Padishah’ of Oude, as a sort of tributary prince to the King of Delhi. Being a child only eight or ten years old, the real power was vested in a minister and a council of state. The minister was one Shirreff-u-Dowlah; the commander-in-chief was Hissamut-u-Dowlah; the council of state was formed of the late king’s principal servants, the chieftains and thalookdars of Oude, and the self-elected leaders of the rebel sepoys; while the army was officered in the orthodox manner by generals, brigadiers, colonels, majors, captains, subalterns, &c. There was a strange sort of democracy underlying the despotism; for the sepoys elected their officers, and the officers their commander; and as those who built up felt that they had the right to pull down, the tenure of office was very precarious. The mongrel government at Lucknow was thus formed of three elements – regal, aristocratic, and military, each trusting the other two only so far as self-interest seemed to warrant. The worst news received was that a small body of Europeans, including Sir Mountstuart Jackson and his sister, fugitives from Seetapoor, were in the hands of the rebels, in one of the palaces in Lucknow, and that a terrible fate impended over them.

November began with very low resources, but with raised hopes; for it was known that the commander-in-chief was busily making arrangements for a final relief of the garrison. Brigadier – or, as his well-earned initials of K.C.B. now entitled him to be called, Sir John – Inglis remained in command of the old or Residency intrenchment; Sir Henry Havelock took charge of the new or palatial position; while Sir James Outram commanded the whole. Labour being abundant, great improvements were made in all parts; sanitary plans were carried out, and hospitals made more comfortable; overcrowded buildings were eased by the occupancy of other places; cool weather brought increase of health; and improvements were visible in every particular except two – food and raiment. On the 9th of the month, Mr Cavanagh, who in more peaceful times had been an ‘uncovenanted servant’ of the Company, or clerk to a civil officer in Lucknow, made a journey on foot to a point far beyond the Alum Bagh under most adventurous circumstances,106 to communicate in person full details of what was passing within the Residency, to concert plans in anticipation of the arrival of Sir Colin, and perhaps to act as a guide through the labyrinthine streets of the city. As an immediate consequence of this expedition, a system of semaphore telegraphy was established from the one post to the other, by which it was speedily known that Mr Cavanagh had succeeded in his bold attempt, and that Sir Colin arrived at the Alum Bagh on the 11th. Arrangements were now at once made to aid the advance of the commander-in-chief as effectively as possible. Day after day Havelock sent out strong parties to clear some of the streets and buildings in the southeastern half of the city – blowing up batteries and houses, and dislodging the enemy, in order to lessen the amount of resistance which Sir Colin would inevitably encounter.107

All this time, while the British in Lucknow were stoutly maintaining their ground against the enemy, some of their companions-in-arms – near at hand, but as inaccessible as if fifty miles distant – had their own troubles to bear. The position of the small detachment at the Alum Bagh was as trying as it was unexpected. When Havelock left a few hundred soldiers at that post, with four guns, vehicles, animals, baggage, ammunition stores, camp-followers, sick, and wounded, he never for an instant supposed that he would be cut off from them, and that the Residency and the Alum Bagh would be the objects of two separate and distinct sieges. Such, however, was the case. Not a soldier could go from the one place to the other; and it was with the utmost difficulty that a messenger could convey a small note rolled up in a quill. The place, however, was tolerably well armed and fortified; and as the enemy did not swarm in any great numbers between it and Cawnpore, reinforcements were gradually able to reach the Alum Bagh, although they could not push on through the remaining four miles to the Residency. On the 3d of October, a convoy of 300 men of the 64th regiment, with provisions, under Major Bingham, started from Cawnpore, and safely reached the Alum Bagh; he could not penetrate further, but the supplies thus obtained at the Alum Bagh itself were very valuable. On the 14th, a second convoy, under Major M’Intyre of the 78th Highlanders, was despatched; but he was attacked by the enemy in such force, that he could not reach the Alum Bagh; he returned, and had some difficulty in preventing the supplies from falling into the hands of the enemy. Another attempt afterwards succeeded. Colonel Wilson, commanding at Cawnpore, received the small detachments of British troops sent up from time to time from the lower provinces, as well as the supplies coming in from every quarter. His duty was, not to make conquests, but to send men and provisions to the Alum Bagh or the Residency as often as any opportunity occurred for so doing, he knew that the Alum Bagh batteries commanded all the approaches, and that the ground was cleared and exposed for five hundred yards on all sides; he did not therefore apprehend any serious calamity to the miscellaneous force shut up in that place, provided he could send provisions in good time. The three or four miles from the Alum Bagh to the Residency were, it is true, beset by difficulties of a most formidable character; bridges were broken, and lines of intrenchment formed, while mutineers and rebels occupied the district in great force; but they directed their attention rather to the Residency than to the Alum Bagh, thereby leaving the latter comparatively unmolested. Much sickness arose within the place, owing to the deficiency of space and of fresh air; and in the intervals between the arrivals of the convoys, provisions were scanty, and the distress was considerable. Nevertheless, the occupants of the Alum Bagh, with such men as Havelock and Inglis near them, never for an instant thought of succumbing; they would fight and endure till aid arrived.