Note.

Cavanagh’s Adventure.—At p. [362] it is mentioned that Mr Cavanagh, an uncovenanted civil servant of the Company in the Residency at Lucknow, volunteered to make the perilous journey from that post to the commander-in-chief’s camp many miles beyond the Alum Bagh, in order to establish more complete correspondence between Sir James Outram and Sir Colin Campbell than was possible by the simple medium of a small note enclosed in a quill. Mr Cavanagh’s account of his hair-breadth run was afterwards published in the Blue-books; and as it affords a good idea of the state of Lucknow and its environs at the time, we will reprint it here:

‘While passing through the intrenchment of Lucknow, about ten o’clock A.M. on the 9th inst., I learned that a spy had come in from Cawnpore, and that he was going back in the night as far as the Alum Bagh with dispatches to his excellency, Sir Colin Campbell, the commander-in-chief, who, it was said, was approaching Lucknow with 5000 or 6000 men.

‘I sought out the spy, whose name is Kanoujee Lall, and who was in the court of the deputy-commissioner of Duriabad before the outbreak in Oude. He had taken letters from the intrenchment before, but I had never seen him till now. I found him intelligent, and imparted to him my desire to venture in disguise to the Alum Bagh in his company. He hesitated a great deal at acting as my guide, but made no attempt to exaggerate the dangers of the road. He merely urged that there was more chance of detection by our going together, and proposed that we should take different roads, and meet outside of the city, to which I objected. I left him to transact some business, my mind dwelling all the time on the means of accomplishing my object.

‘I had, some days previously, witnessed the preparation of plans which were being made by direction of Sir James Outram to assist the commander-in-chief in his march into Lucknow for the relief of the besieged, and it then occurred to me that some one with the requisite local knowledge ought to attempt to reach his excellency’s camp beyond or at the Alum Bagh. The news of Sir Colin Campbell’s advance revived the idea, and I made up my mind to go myself at two o’clock, after finishing the business I was engaged upon. I mentioned to Colonel R. Napier, chief of Sir James Outram’s staff, that I was willing to proceed through the enemy to the Alum Bagh, if the general thought my doing so would be of service to the commander-in-chief. He was surprised at the offer, and seemed to regard the enterprise as fraught with too much danger to be assented to; but he did me the favour of communicating the offer to Sir James Outram, because he considered that my zeal deserved to be brought to his notice.

‘Sir James did not encourage me to undertake the journey, declaring that he thought it so dangerous that he would not himself have asked any officer to attempt it. I, however, spoke so confidently of success, and treated the dangers so lightly, that he at last yielded, and did me the honour of adding, that if I succeeded in reaching the commander-in-chief, my knowledge would be a great help to him.

‘I secretly arranged for a disguise, so that my departure might not be known to my wife, as she was not well enough to bear the prospect of an eternal separation. When I left home, about seven o’clock in the evening, she thought I was gone on duty for the night to the mines; for I was working as an assistant field-engineer, by order of Sir James Outram.

‘By half-past seven o’clock my disguise was completed, and when I entered the room of Colonel Napier, no one in it recognised me. I was dressed as a budmash, or as an irregular soldier of the city, with sword and shield, native-made shoes, tight trousers, a yellow silk koortah over a tight-fitting white muslin shirt, a yellow-coloured chintz sheet thrown round my shoulders, a cream-coloured turban, and a white waistband or kumurbund. My face, down to the shoulders, and my hands, to the wrists, were coloured with lampblack, the cork used being dipped in oil to cause the colour to adhere a little. I could get nothing better. I had little confidence in the disguise of my features, and I trusted more to the darkness of the night; but Sir James Outram and his staff seemed satisfied. After being provided with a small double-barrelled pistol, and a pair of broad pyjamahs over the tight drawers, I proceeded with Kanoujee Lall to the right bank of the river Goomtee, running north of our intrenchment, accompanied by Captain Hardinge, of the irregular cavalry.

‘Here we undressed and quietly forded the river, which was only about four and a half feet deep, and about a hundred yards wide at this point. My courage failed me while in the water, and if my guide had been within reach, I should perhaps have pulled him back and abandoned the enterprise; but he waded quickly through the stream. Reaching the opposite bank, we went crouching up a ditch for three hundred yards, to a grove of low trees on the edge of a pond, where we stopped to dress. While we were here, a man came down to the pond to wash, and went away again without observing us.

‘My confidence now returned to me, and with my tulwar resting on my shoulder we advanced into the huts in front, where I accosted a matchlockman, who answered to my remark that the night was cold: “It is very cold—in fact, it is a cold night.” I passed him, adding that it would be colder by and by.

‘After going six or seven hundred yards further, we reached the iron bridge over the Goomtee, where we were stopped and called over by a native officer who was seated in an upper-storied house, and seemed to be in command of a cavalry picket, whose horses were near the place saddled. My guide advanced to the light, and I stayed a little back in the shade. After being told that we had come from Mundeon—our old cantonment, and then in the possession of the enemy—and that we were going into the city to our homes, he let us proceed. We continued on along the left bank of the river to the stone bridge, which is about eight or nine hundred yards from the iron bridge, passing unnoticed through a number of sepoys and matchlockmen, some of whom were escorting persons of rank in palanquins preceded by torches.

‘Recrossing the Goomtee by the stone bridge, we went by a sentry unobserved, who was closely questioning a dirtily dressed native, and into the chowk or principal street of the city of Lucknow, which was not illuminated as much as it used to be previous to the siege, nor was it so crowded. I jostled against several armed men in the street without being spoken to, and only met one guard of seven sepoys, who were amusing themselves with some women of pleasure.

‘When issuing from the city into the country, we were challenged by a chowkeedar, or watchman, who, without stopping us, merely asked who we were. The part of the city traversed that night by me seemed to have been deserted by at least a third of its inhabitants.

‘I was in great spirits when we reached the green fields, into which I had not been for five months. Everything around us smelt sweet, and a carrot I took from the roadside was the most delicious I had ever tasted. I gave vent to my feelings in a conversation with Kanoujee Lall, who joined in my admiration of the province of Oude, and lamentation that it was now in the hands of wretches whose misgovernment and rapacity were ruining it.

‘A further walk of a few miles was accomplished in high spirits. But there was trouble before us. We had taken the wrong road, and were now quite out of our way in the Dil Koosha Park, which was occupied by the enemy. I went within twenty yards of two guns to see what strength they were, and returned to the guide, who was in great alarm, and begged I would not distrust him because of the mistake, as it was caused by his anxiety to take me away from the pickets of the enemy. I bade him not to be frightened of me, for I was not annoyed, as such accidents were not unfrequent even when there was no danger to be avoided. It was now about midnight. We endeavoured to persuade a cultivator, who was watching his crop, to shew us the way for a short distance, but he urged old age and lameness; and another, whom I peremptorily told to come with us, ran off screaming, and alarmed the whole village. We next walked quickly away into the canal, running under the Char Bagh, in which I fell several times, owing to my shoes being wet and slippery and my feet sore. The shoes were hard and tight, and had rubbed the skin off my toes, and cut into the flesh above the heels.

‘In two hours more we were again in the right direction, two women in the village we passed having kindly helped us to find it. About two o’clock we reached an advanced picket of sepoys, who told us the way, after asking where we had come from, and whither we were going. I thought it safer to go up to the picket, than to try to pass them unobserved.

‘Kanoujee Lall now begged I would not press him to take me into the Alum Bagh, as he did not know the way in, and the enemy were strongly posted around the place. I was tired, and in pain from the shoes, and would therefore have preferred going into the Alum Bagh; but, as the guide feared attempting it, I desired him to go on to the camp of the commander-in-chief, which he said was near Bunnee (a village eighteen miles from Lucknow) upon the Cawnpore road. The moon had risen by this time, and we could see well ahead.

‘By three o’clock we arrived at a grove of mango-trees, situated on a plain, in which a man was singing at the top of his voice. I thought he was a villager, but he got alarmed on hearing us approach; and astonished us, too, by calling out a guard of twenty-five sepoys, all of whom asked questions. Kanoujee Lall here lost heart for the first time, and threw away the letter intrusted to him for Sir Colin Campbell. I kept mine safe in my turban. We satisfied the guard that we were poor men travelling to Umroula, a village two miles this side of the chief’s camp, to inform a friend of the death of his brother by a shot from the British intrenchment at Lucknow, and they told us the road. They appeared to be greatly relieved on discovering that it was not their terrible foe, who was only a few miles in advance of them. We went in the direction indicated by them, and after walking for half an hour we got into a jheel or swamp, which are numerous and large in Oude. We had to wade through it for two hours up to our waists in water, and through weeds; for before we found out that we were in a jheel, we had gone too far to recede. I was nearly exhausted on getting out of the water, having made great exertions to force our way through the weeds, and to prevent the colour being washed off my face. It was nearly gone from my hands.

‘I now rested for fifteen minutes, despite the remonstrances of the guide, and went forward, passing between two pickets of the enemy, who had no sentries thrown out. It was near four o’clock in the morning when I stopped at the corner of a tope or grove of trees to sleep for an hour, which Kanoujee Lall entreated I would not do; but I thought he overrated the danger, and, lying down, I told him to see if there was any one in the grove who would tell him where we then were.

‘We had not gone far when I heard the English challenge “Who comes there?” with a native accent. We had reached a British cavalry outpost: my eyes filled with joyful tears, and I shook the Sikh officer in charge of the picket heartily by the hand. The old soldier was as pleased as myself when he heard whence I had come; and he was good enough to send two of his men to conduct me to the camp of the advance-guard. An officer of her Majesty’s 9th Lancers, who was visiting his pickets, met me on the way, and took me to his tent, where I got dry stockings and trousers, and, what I much needed, a glass of brandy—a liquor I had not tasted for nearly two months.

‘I thanked God for having safely conducted me through this dangerous enterprise, and Kanoujee Lall for the courage and intelligence with which he had conducted himself during this trying night. When we were questioned, he let me speak as little as possible. He always had a ready answer, and I feel that I am indebted to him in a great measure more than to myself for my escape. It will give me great satisfaction to hear that he has been suitably rewarded.

‘In undertaking this enterprise, I was actuated by a sense of duty, believing that I could be of use to his excellency the commander-in-chief when approaching, for its relief, the besieged garrison, which had heroically resisted the attack of thirty times its own number for nearly five months, within a weak and irregular intrenchment; and, secondly, because I was anxious to perform some service which would insure to me the honour of wearing our Most Gracious Majesty’s Cross.

‘My reception by Sir Colin Campbell and his staff was cordial and kind to the utmost degree; and if I never have more than the remembrance of their condescension and of the heartfelt congratulation of Sir James Outram and of all the officers of his garrison on my safe return to them—I shall not repine, though to be sure having the Victoria Cross would make me a prouder and a happier man.

‘James Cavanagh.

‘Camp, Alum Bagh, Nov. 24.’

Group of Mahratta Arms.—From the Collection of Sir S. Meyrick: a a, Helmet; b, Sword; c, Musket; d, Knife and Sheath; e, Mace; f, Shield.

[115]. ‘Story of the Lucknow Residency,’ chap. xix. pp. [316]-[337].

[116]. The thalookdaree system of Oude requires a little explanation, in relation to the participants in the Revolt. Most of the annexations effected by the East India Company were followed by changes either in the ownership of the soil, or in the assessment of land-tax—such land-tax being the chief item in the Company’s revenue. When the several annexations occurred, it was found throughout a great part of India that superior holders—whether proprietors, hereditary farmers of revenue, or hereditary middlemen—held large tracts of land, in a middle position between the native governments and the cultivating communities, and were responsible for the revenue to the state. In Bengal, these influential men were generally recognised by the Company as proprietors, and the rights of the sub-holders almost wholly ignored. In the Northwest Provinces, acquired by the Company at a much later date, the thalookdars, zemindars, or whatever these landowners may have been called, were generally set aside; but the asserted rights of some of them became subjects of endless litigation in the courts of law; the landowners frequently obtained decrees against the Company, and many received a percentage in compromise of their rights or claims. In Oude, annexed in 1856, the thalookdaree system was particularly strong. Almost the whole country had by degrees become parcelled out among great thalookdars or zemindars. Though under a Mohammedan government, these men were almost universally Hindoos—native chiefs who had obtained great prescription, exercised great power and authority, and were in fact feudatories of the government. They were much more than mere middlemen or farmers of revenue. They had their own forts, troops, and guns; they obeyed their nawab or king so far as they chose or were compelled; they seized with the strong hand estates which had unquestionably belonged to village communities in earlier times; and they fought with each other as English barons or Scottish clan-chieftains were wont to do in past ages. Sir William Sleeman estimated the number of armed retainers, whose services these thalookdars could command, at scarcely less than one hundred thousand; while they had nearly five hundred pieces of cannon in their several forts or strongholds. Under this system the village proprietary rights, even if not actually thrown aside and disregarded, became more weak and undefined than when the villagers held directly from the government. Hence arose a very embarrassing question when the Company took possession of Oude. With whom was the settlement to be made? The thalookdars were strong and in possession; the village communities were dormant, broken, and ill defined. It would have taken some time to suppress the one and revive the other. The opinions of revenue officers in the Northwest Provinces ran strongly in favour of village proprietaries; still stronger in the Punjaub; and Oude was treated somewhat in the same way. The result in many cases was to eject the thalookdars, and make direct settlements with the village communities. When the Revolt began, the thalookdars at first behaved well to the British personally; with the butchery by a rabble they had no sympathy; and many were the Europeans whose lives they saved. But, the Company’s government being for a time upset; and the period since the annexation having been too short to destroy the strength of the thalookdars, or to enable the village proprietors to acquire a steady possession of their rights—the thalookdars almost universally resumed what they considered to be their own. There is evidence, too, that in this course of proceeding they met with a considerable amount of popular support. It was in this way they became committed against the British government. Till Havelock’s retreat from his unsuccessful attempt to relieve Lucknow in August, the thalookdars adopted a temporising policy; but when they saw him and Outram retreat across the Ganges to Cawnpore, they thought their time had arrived. They began to act in concert—not because they had much sympathy with mutinous sepoys, with the decrepit king of Delhi, or with the deposed king of Oude—but in the hope that, amid the general anarchy, they might regain their old influence.

[117]. See Note, at the end of this chapter.

[118]. One of the two hard-worked and sorely tried chaplains, in a letter to a relation when the dangers were past, employed a few simple words that really described the position of the Residency enclosure better than any long technical details. English friends had talked and written concerning the ‘impregnable fort’ in which the garrison were confined; to which he replied: ‘We were in no fort at all; we occupied a few houses in a large garden, with a low wall on one side, and only an earthen parapet on the other, in the middle of a large city, the buildings of which completely commanded us, and swarming with thousands of our deadly foes, thirsting for our blood. God gave us protection and pluck, the former in a wonderful degree, or not one of us would be here to tell about it.... The engineers calculated that all those months never one second elapsed without a shot being thrown in at us, and at times upwards of seventy per second, besides round shot and shell.’ This probably means that the average was a shot per second for nearly five months—twelve or fourteen million deadly missiles thrown into this narrow and crowded space.

[119].

[120]. Detachments H.M. 23d and 82d foot.

Detachments Madras horse-artillery, royal artillery, royal engineers, and military train.

[121]. The officers killed were Lieutenant-colonel Biddulph; Captains Hardy, Wheatcroft, Dalzell, and Lumsden; Lieutenants Mayne, Frankland, and Dobbs; Ensign Thompson; and Midshipman Daniel. The wounded were Sir Colin Campbell; Brigadier Russell; Lieutenant-colonels Ewart and Hale; Majors Alison and Barnston; Captains Alison, Anson, Grant, Hammond, Travers, Walton, and Burroughs; Lieutenants Salmond, Milman, Ford, Halkett, Munro, French, Wynne, Cooper, Welch, Goldsmith, Wood, Paul, M’Queen, Oldfield, and Henderson; Ensigns Watson, Powell, and M’Namara; Midshipman Lord A. P. Clinton; and Assistant-surgeon Veale.

[122]. ‘I am aware of no parallel to our series of mines in modern war. Twenty-one shafts, aggregating 200 feet in depth, and 3291 feet of gallery, have been executed. The enemy advanced twenty mines against the palaces and outposts; of these they exploded three, which caused us loss of life, and two which did no injury; seven have been blown in; and out of seven others the enemy have been driven, and their galleries taken possession of by our miners—results of which the engineer department may well be proud. The reports and plans forwarded by Sir Henry Havelock, K.C.B., and now submitted to his excellency, will explain how a line of gardens, courts, and dwelling-houses, without fortified enceinte, without flanking defences, and closely connected with the buildings of a city, has been maintained for eight weeks in a certain degree of security; notwithstanding the close and constant musketry-fire from loopholed walls and windows, often within thirty yards, and from every lofty building within rifle-range, and notwithstanding a frequent though desultory fire of round-shot and grape from guns posted at various distances, from seventy to five hundred yards. This result has been obtained by the skill and courage of the engineer and quartermaster-general’s departments, zealously aided by the brave officers and soldiers, who have displayed the same cool determination and cheerful alacrity in the toils of the trench and amid the concealed dangers of the mine that they had previously exhibited when forcing their way into Lucknow at the point of the bayonet, and amid a most murderous fire.’

[123]. The fate of the few English prisoners at Lucknow is not clearly traceable; but one account has stated that four Englishmen were put to death on the night when the Residency was finally evacuated. When the English troops, the women and children, the guns and baggage, and a quarter of a million sterling in silver, had safely reached the Dil Koosha, the leaders among the rebels became enraged beyond measure at a manœuvre which completely balked them. A few of them rushed to the Kaiser Bagh, where the unfortunate prisoners were confined, tied four of them—Sir Mountstuart Jackson, Mr Orr, Mr Barnes, and Sergeant Martin—to guns, and blew them away. The ladies were said to have been spared at the intercession of one of the begums or princesses of Oude.

CHAPTER XXII.
CLOSING EVENTS OF THE YEAR.

The expedition of Sir Colin Campbell to Lucknow in November, followed by the extraordinary rescue of the British residents at that city, formed an episode in the history of the Indian Revolt well worthy of being treated singly and separately from other matters. This having been done, the present chapter may conveniently be devoted to the closing events of the year in other places, touching only upon such occurrences as immediately affected the mutiny or the plans for its suppression. As in the former chapters[[124]]—relating, the one to July and August, and the other to September and October—the survey (applicable in this case to November and December) may usefully begin in the Calcutta provinces, and thence travel westward.

Calcutta itself, for reasons more than once stated, was not likely to be materially affected by mutinous proceedings. The interests of the native towns-people, concerned in supplying the wants of a larger number of Europeans than resided at any other city in India, led them to prefer scenes of quiet, even if the Bengalee character had been more warlike than is its wont; while the frequent landing of British troops from other shores kept in awe such of the sepoy soldiers as still remained in arms. A naval squadron anchored in the Hoogly, with sufficient power of metal to batter the city to ruins if danger arose. The natives, except a few of fanatical character, were more disposed to seek for holiday than for war; and holiday occasionally fell to their share, in the proceedings of the British themselves. On one day, towards the close of November, there were 4500 British troops temporarily garrisoned at Calcutta, and 11 ships-of-war anchored in the river. The troops comprised H.M. 19th, 20th, 42d, 54th, 79th, and 97th regiments of foot, or portions of them, together with one battalion of the 60th Rifles, and one of the Rifle brigade. A review of most of these fine troops was held on the Calcutta volunteers’ parade-ground, before the journey to the upper provinces commenced. The Calcutta government commenced operations for reorganising the vast regions which had been thrown into confusion by the Revolt. A plan was sketched out for separating the divisions of Delhi and Meerut from the Northwest Provinces, and transferring them to the government of the Punjaub—in order that they might share in the peculiar system of executive rule which had been found to work well in the Punjaub, under the energetic control of Sir John Lawrence. The rest of the Northwest Provinces could not be permanently reorganised until the warlike operations had made further advance. Another proceeding on the part of the government was to send out a commission to the Andaman Islands, to examine how far they were suited as a penal settlement for rebels or traitors sentenced to transportation; the commission comprised naval and medical officers, who were empowered to select a spot healthy in situation and easily defended.

In the easternmost districts of India, mutiny shewed itself in small degree. It could hardly be other than slight, however; for the Hindustani troops were few in number, and the general population not ill affected. Three companies of the 34th Bengal native infantry, it will be remembered,[[125]] were stationed at Chittagong at the very beginning of the troubles in March and April; they not only remained faithful when the other companies of the same regiment became mutinous at Berhampore, but made a very high-flown declaration of their loyalty. After remaining ‘true to their salt’ throughout the whole of the summer and autumn, these three companies at length yielded to the general mania. They broke out into mutiny at Chittagong on the 18th of November, burnt their lines, blew up the magazine, looted the treasury, and commenced a search for Europeans. These latter escaped, chiefly in boats upon the river. The mutineers then released the convicts from the jail, and decamped. They moved northward, apparently tending toward Tipperah, where a petty rajah held his court. Directly this was known, Major Byng, commanding a Silhet native regiment, marched down from the hills, and met the mutineers. A brief conflict ensued, in which the major unfortunately received a mortal wound; but the misguided men of the 34th, meeting with no kind of sympathy from the Silhetees, were almost wholly annihilated within a few days.

There were at that time two companies of the 73d native regiment at Dacca; and as soon as the authorities received from the magistrate of Chittagong news of what had occurred at the last-mentioned place, they resolved to disarm those two companies, as a precaution against mischief. The sepoys, however, hearing the news from Chittagong more speedily than the authorities, prepared for resistance. A party of volunteers disarmed a few scattered sepoys; but as the others had artillery to assist them, a hundred English sailors, with two or three howitzers, were told off to deal with them. A sharp contest ensued at the sepoy barracks, with balls, grape, and musketry; until at length the sailors, determined on a closer attack, rushed upon the sepoys, drove them out of the barracks, and killed many on the spot. The rest set off on a hasty march to Jelpigoree, the head-quarters of the regiment. So utterly was that part of India denuded of British troops, that there were none to repel even one or two hundred mutineers; and many villages were plundered on the road. The check came from a quarter where apparently the mutineers least expected it—from the men of their own regiment. The motives of the native troops were as inscrutable now as at any former time; for although the two companies thus rebelled, fought, and fled, the bulk of the regiment remained faithful. They had even quietly permitted two hundred Goorkhas to join the regiment—that step having been adopted by the authorities to infuse new blood into the corps. An officer of the 73d, writing from Jelpigoree on the 3d of December, said: ‘Our men have sworn to their native officers (not to us) that they will do their duty; and our spies, who have hitherto proved so trustworthy, declare that we may fully depend on the regiment. Yesterday the test commenced by our ordering accoutrements and ammunition to be served out to our two hundred Goorkhas. This was done cheerfully, and is a very good indication of the prevailing feeling. A strange scene it was, watching the sepoys doling out ammunition to Goorkhas to fight against their own (the sepoys’) comrades, and it did one’s heart good to see it: we are all under arms, and very sanguine.’ These men actually joined in routing the mutinous companies of their own regiment, and in driving them towards Bhotan, where they died miserably among an unsympathising population.—Such discrepancies in conduct between different regiments and different companies of the same regiment, threw great difficulties in the way of any logical tracing of the causes of the Revolt.

In a wide region of Bengal westward of Calcutta, the only incidents requiring notice were two or three in which the Shekhawuttie battalion shewed that it still remained faithful to the Company’s raj—almost the last relic of the once magnificent Bengal army. With this regiment Colonel Forster put down the recusant Rajah of Pachete, whose domain touched the grand trunk-road above Raneegunge. After hovering some time on the verge of treason, this man at length refused to obey the British resident at Rugonauthpoor, Mr Lushington, who was obliged to intrench himself in self-defence. Colonel Forster hastened thither; and by his own boldness of bearing, and the faithfulness of his Shekhawutties, he captured the rajah, a fort of no inconsiderable strength, much wealth, and a mass of treasonable correspondence—without firing a shot. Shortly afterwards, Forster marched to Sumbhulpore, where a band of ruffians, headed by one of their own class, had commenced a course of violence that needed and obtained a prompt check.

Let us hasten on to the busier scenes of the northwest, viewing them in connection with Cawnpore as a central point of strategy, and with Sir Colin Campbell as leader of all the British operations. This may the more appropriately be done; because there were no events on the Lower Ganges, between Calcutta and Benares, requiring notice, so far as concerned the months of November and December.

Cawnpore was a centre in military matters for the following reasons. On one side of it was Lucknow, so important in relation to the occupancy of Oude; Allahabad, on another side, was on the great line of route for troops from Calcutta; Agra and Delhi, towards the northwest, lay on the path of approach from the Punjaub; while on the south and southwest were the roads along which armies or columns of armies might march from the two southern provinces of Madras and Bombay. Hence Sir Colin Campbell made earnest endeavours to maintain a good position at Cawnpore, as a convenient base of operations. Colonel Wilson, as commandant, was instructed to attend to the wants of Lucknow so far as he could, and to watch the movements of insurgent troops in the neighbourhood. This continued throughout October. In November, when Sir Colin went with his small army to relieve Lucknow, he left General Windham—well known in Crimean warfare as the ‘hero of the Redan’—in command at Cawnpore, not to fight, but to keep communication safely open from Lucknow viâ Cawnpore to Allahabad. Sir Colin, it will be remembered,[[126]] hurried back to Cawnpore at the end of November on account of events that had occurred during his absence. What those events were, we have now to narrate.

The series of disasters that occurred to General Windham originated in part in the want of good communication between him and Sir Colin Campbell. Whether the messengers were stopped by the way, does not clearly appear; but Sir Colin remained in ignorance that the Gwalior mutineers were approaching Cawnpore; while Windham received no replies to letters sent by him, asking for instructions for his guidance. Sir Colin knew nothing of Windham’s troubles until, on the 27th of November, he heard at the Alum Bagh the noise of artillery-firing at Cawnpore; while Windham received no aid or advice until Sir Colin himself appeared late on the following day. Whether or not there were defective tactics in the subsequent management of the affair, this uncertainty at the beginning was unquestionably disadvantageous. Windham knew, about the middle of the month, that the Gwalior and Indore mutineers, swelled to 20,000 strong by reinforcements of rebels from various quarters, had reached within about thirty miles of Cawnpore, on the Calpee road; and a week later he found that they were within twenty miles. As the troops at his command barely exceeded 2000 men, and as he received no news from Campbell, he considered how best to maintain his position. He was in an intrenchment or intrenched fort, far distant from the one formerly occupied by Sir Hugh Wheeler, and placed close to the Ganges, so as to command the bridge of boats; there being within the intrenchment the requisite buildings for the daily necessities of his force. As the city of Cawnpore lay between him and the Calpee road, he deemed it necessary to take up a new position. Leaving some of his troops, therefore, in the intrenchment, he formed with the remainder a new camp at Dhuboulee, close to the canal westward of the city, at a point where he believed he would be able to watch and frustrate the enemy.

On the 26th, finding that the mutineers were approaching, he went out to encounter them. He started at three in the morning with about 1200 infantry (chiefly of the 34th, 82d, 88th, and Rifles, 100 Sikh cavalry and eight guns), and marched eight or nine miles to Bhowsee, near the Pandoo Nuddee—leaving his camp-equipage and baggage near the city. Brigadier Carthew was second in command; and the chief officers under him were Colonels Walpole, Kelly, and Maxwell. The enemy were found strongly posted on the opposite side of the dry bed of the Pandoo Nuddee. The British advanced with a line of skirmishers along the whole front, with supports on each flank, and a reserve in the centre. The enemy opened a heavy fire of artillery from siege and field guns; but such was the eagerness of the British troops to engage, that they carried the position with a rush, cheering as they went; and a village, half a mile in the rear of the enemy, was rapidly cleared. The mutineers hastily took to flight, leaving behind them two howitzers and one gun. At this point, apparently for the first time, Windham became aware that he had been engaging the advanced column only of the enemy, and that the main force was near at hand. Rendered uneasy by his position, he resolved on retiring to protect the city, camp, cantonment, intrenchment, and bridge of boats. This he did.

So far, then, the operations of the 26th were to a certain extent successful. But disaster followed. He encamped for the night on the Jewee Plain, on the Calpee side of Cawnpore, having the city between him and the intrenchment. Whether Windham did not know that the enemy were so near in great force, whether his camping-ground was ill chosen, or whether he left his flanks unprotected, certain it is that, about noon on the 27th, when his men were preparing for a camp-dinner, they were surprised by an onslaught of the enemy in immense force, from behind a thick cover of trees and brushwood, beginning with an overwhelming artillery cannonade. For five hours did this attack continue, chiefly near the point of junction of the Delhi and Calpee roads. Distracted by an attack on three sides of him, Windham hastened to see what was doing on the fourth side, towards the city; and here he ascertained that the mutineers had turned his flanks, got into the city, and were beginning to attack the intrenchment near the bridge. Retreat was at once resolved on; and although the general’s dispatch did not state the fact, the private letters shew that the retreat was sauve qui peut. For, in truth, it became a matter of speed, whether the British could rush back to the intrenchment in time to save it. They did so; but at the expense of a large store of tents, saddlery, harness, camp-equipage, and private property—all of which had to be abandoned in the hasty scamper from the camp to the intrenchment. This booty the enemy at once seized upon, and either appropriated or burned according to its degree of usefulness. No less than five hundred tents fed a bonfire that night—a loss quite irreparable at that time to the British.

Bitter was the mortification with which the troops contemplated this day’s work. One of the officers said in a private letter: ‘You will read the account of this day’s fighting with astonishment; for it tells how English troops, with their trophies and their mottoes, and their far-famed bravery, were repulsed and lost their camp, their baggage, and their position, by [to?] the scouted and degraded natives of India.’ The beaten ‘Feringhees,’ as the enemy had now a right to call them, did certainly retreat to their intrenchment amid overturned tents, pillaged baggage, men’s kits, fleeing camels, elephants, horses, and servants. Another officer who had just come up from Allahabad, and who was within the intrenchment on the afternoon of this day, thus described the scene: ‘Saw our troops retreating into the outer intrenchment. A regular panic followed. Trains of elephants, camels, horses, bullock-wagons, and coolies came in at the principal gate, laden with stuff. The principal buildings are the General Hospital, the Sailors’ Hospital, the Post-office, and the Commissariat-cellars. Around these houses, which are scattered, crowds of camels, bullocks, and horses were collected, fastened by ropes to stakes in the ground, and among the animals, piles of trunks, beds, chairs, and miscellaneous furniture and baggage. There was scarcely room to move. Met one of the chaplains hastening into the intrenchment. He had left everything in his tent outside. The servants almost everywhere abandoned their masters when they heard the guns. Mounted officers were galloping across the rough ground between the inner and outer intrenchments, and doolie after doolie, with its red curtains down, concealing some poor victim, passed on to the hospitals. The poor fellows were brought in, shot, cut, shattered, and wounded in every imaginable way; and as they went by, raw stumps might be seen hanging over the sides of the doolies, literally like torn butcher-meat. The agonies which I saw some of them endure during the surgical operations were such as no tongue or pen can describe. The surgeons, who did their utmost, were so overworked, that many sufferers lay bleeding for hours before it was possible to attend to them.’ During the hasty retreat, one of the guns had been overturned in a narrow street in Cawnpore. The British could not wait to bring it away; but at night General Windham ordered 100 men of the 64th to aid a few seamen of the naval brigade in an expedition to secure the gun. It was a delicate task, in a city crowded with the enemy; how it was done, one of the officers of the naval brigade has told.[[127]]

What was next to be done, became an important question. General Windham assembled his superior officers, and conferred with them. If he could have obtained reliable information concerning the position of the enemy’s artillery, he would have proposed a night-attack; but, in ignorance on this important point, it was resolved to defer operations till the morrow. Early on the 28th, accordingly, the force was divided into four sections, thus distributed: One, under Walpole, was to defend the advanced portion of the town on the left side of the canal; a second, under Wilson, was to hold the intrenchment, and establish a strong picket on the extreme right; a third, under Carthew, was to hold the Bithoor road in advance of the intrenchment, receiving support from the picket there if needed; while the fourth section, under Windham himself, was to defend the portion of the town nearest the Ganges on the left of the canal, and support Walpole if needful. These several arrangements were especially intended to protect the intrenchment and the bridge of boats—so important in relation to Sir Colin Campbell’s operations in Oude. The British position was to be wholly defensive. A severe struggle ensued. The Gwalior mutineers were now joined by another force under Nena Sahib, and a third under his brother Bhola Sahib; altogether the insurgents numbered 21,000. They marched unmolested towards the city and cantonment; and then were the few British sorely pressed indeed. Walpole was speedily engaged in very hard fighting; and it was on his side only that anything like a victory was achieved. Aided by Colonels Woodford and Watson, and Captain Greene, Walpole repulsed a vigorous attack made by the enemy, and captured two 18-pounder guns. Carthew, who struggled from morning till night against a most formidable body of the enemy, was at length obliged to retire from his position. Wilson, eager to render service at an exposed point, led his section of troops—chiefly consisting of H.M. 64th foot—against four guns planted by the enemy in front of Carthew’s position. He and his gallant men advanced in the face of the enemy, and under a murderous fire, for more than half a mile, up a ravine commanded by high ground in front as well as on both sides. From the ridge in front, the four 9-pounders played upon them as they rushed forward. After reaching and almost capturing the guns, they were encountered by a very large force of the enemy who had hitherto been hidden; further progress was impossible; they retreated, and saw their officers falling around them in mournful number. Colonel Wilson himself was killed; as were also Major Stirling, Captain M’Crea, and Captain Morphey; while many other officers were wounded. It was a defeat and a loss, for which no counterbalancing advantage was gained.

Thus the 28th had increased the humiliation of the preceding day. Tents, baggage, officers, prestige—all had suffered. The mutineers revelled in the city as conquerors on the night of the 28th, seizing everything which had belonged to the British. More than 10,000 rounds of Enfield cartridges, the mess-plate of four Queen’s regiments, paymasters’ chests, and a large amount of miscellaneous property, fell into their hands. On the morning of the 29th the insurgents began to bombard the intrenchment and the bridge of boats. Had not Sir Colin Campbell arrived at that critical time, it is hard to say what might have been the amount of disaster; for the enemy were in immense strength; and if the bridge of boats had been broken, the fate of the refugees from Lucknow might have been sad indeed. All that day did the firing of the enemy continue. All that day did the living stream from Lucknow approach the bridge. Sir Colin immediately assumed command at Cawnpore. Mortifying as it was to him to leave the enemy in possession of the city and everything west of it, he had no alternative. One holy duty pressed upon him—to protect the helpless Lucknow convoy until it could be sent on to Allahabad. He despatched Hope Grant with a column, to keep open the road from Cawnpore through Futtehpoor to Allahabad; while he employed all his other troops in keeping the enemy at bay. The officers in the intrenchment, looking over their earthworks, could see the six miles’ train of women, children, sick, wounded, bearers, servants, camp-followers, horses, oxen, camels, elephants, wagons, carts, palanquins, doolies, advancing along the road to the bridge; and most narrowly were the movements of the enemy watched, to prevent any interruption to the passage of the cavalcade over the frail bridge.

This unfortunate series of events at Cawnpore greatly disconcerted Sir Colin Campbell. In his first dispatch to government relating to them, he referred almost without comment to Windham’s own narrative. Three weeks afterwards a singularly worded dispatch was issued from his camp near Cawnpore, expressing a regret at an ‘omission’ in his former dispatch; and adding, ‘I desire to make my acknowledgment of the great difficulties in which Major-general Windham, C.B., was placed during the operations he describes in his dispatch; and to recommend him and the officers whom he notices as having rendered him assistance to your lordship’s protection and good offices.’ Lord Canning shortly afterwards issued a general order, containing an echo of Sir Colin’s dispatch. General Windham continued for a time with the commander-in-chief. If official dissatisfaction with his management at Cawnpore existed, it was either hushed up or smoothed away by subsequent explanations.

The month of December opened amid events that caused sufficient anxiety to Sir Colin Campbell. The convoy of Lucknow fugitives had not yet been sent away; the Gwalior mutineers had not yet been defeated. He was compelled to act on the defensive until his helpless non-combatants were provided for. During one week, from the 26th of November to the 2d of December, the loss in British officers had been very considerable in and near Cawnpore; for 10 were reported killed, 32 wounded, and 2 missing. The commander-in-chief, therefore, while repelling the still audacious insurgents, had to promote and establish numerous officers, as well as to reorganise his force.

It was a great relief to Sir Colin when the convoy left Cawnpore on its march towards Allahabad. He was then free to act as a military commander; and the enemy did not long delay in giving him an opportunity of proving his powers of command. On the 5th of December the enemy’s artillery attacked his left pickets, while their infantry shewed on the same quarter; they also fired on the British pickets in the Generalgunje—an old bazaar extending along the canal in front of the line occupied by the camp. Brigadier Greathed had held this advanced position supported by Peel’s and Bourchier’s guns. Sir Colin resolved to take the offensive on the following day. The enemy occupied a strong position. Their centre was in the city of Cawnpore, and lined the houses and bazaars overhanging the canal and the barricaded streets; their right stretched away to a point beyond the crossing of the main trunk-road over the canal; while their left occupied the old cantonment, from which General Windham’s post had been principally assailed. The canal, along which were placed the centre and the right, was thus the main feature of the enemy’s position, and could only be passed by two bridges. The enemy’s camp was two miles in rear of their right, on the Calpee road, which was intended to be their line of advance and retreat. Sir Colin well studied this position before he formed his plan. ‘It appeared to me,’ he said in his dispatch, ‘that if the enemy’s right were vigorously attacked, it would be driven from its position without assistance being able to come from other parts of the line: the wall of the town, which gave cover to our attacking columns on the right, being an effective obstacle to the movement of any portion of the enemy’s troops from their left to their right.’ In fact, his quick eye saw that the Gwalior mutineers had placed one-half their force in such a spot that it could not help the other half, provided the attack were made in a certain fashion. It was really a large and powerful army to which he was now confronted; so many other mutinous regiments had joined the Gwalior Contingent, that their force was now estimated at little short of 25,000 men, with about 40 pieces of artillery.

The Battle of Cawnpore, December 6, 1857.

On the morning of the 6th, the commander-in-chief assigned to all his several corps and regiments their respective duties.[[128]] General Windham opened a heavy bombardment at nine o’clock, from the intrenchment in the old cantonment, to induce the enemy to believe that the attack would be in that quarter. For two hours, the rest of the force was quietly taking up its position—Greathed’s column in front of the enemy’s centre, and the other columns in rear of the old cavalry lines, effectually masked from observation. When it was judged that Windham’s fire had drawn the enemy’s attention away from the real point of attack, Sir Colin sent his cavalry and horse-artillery by a detour on the left, to cross the canal a mile and a half higher up, and assail the enemy’s rear; while the infantry deployed in parallel lines fronting the canal. Captain Peel was the first man to cross the canal bridge for the attack on the enemy’s camp; the heavy guns followed him; and in a few minutes the enemy were astonished at finding themselves in the heat of battle on a side not at all contemplated by them. Their defeat was equal to their surprise. Sir Colin’s regiments crossed the canal by various bridges, reached the enemy’s camp, cut their forces in two, and then completely routed them—pursuing them for fourteen miles on the Calpee road, and capturing guns and wagons as they went. In all this work the sailors of the naval brigade pushed forward with an energy which seems to have struck even the commander-in-chief, accustomed as he was to deeds of daring. In his official dispatch he said: ‘I must here draw attention to the manner in which the heavy 24-pounder guns were impelled and managed by Captain Peel and his gallant sailors. Through the extraordinary energy and good-will with which the latter have worked, their guns have been constantly in advance throughout our late operations, from the relief of Lucknow till now—as if they were light field-pieces. The service rendered by them in clearing our front has been incalculable. On this occasion there was the sight beheld of 24-pounder guns advancing with the first line of skirmishers.’ Before Sir Colin returned to camp in the evening, the enemy had been driven entirely and completely away from Cawnpore. The four infantry brigades engaged in this hot day’s work were headed by Brigadiers Greathed, Adrian Hope, Walpole, and Inglis. Windham was only employed in masking the real nature of the attack. Sir Colin mentioned this matter in the following peculiar terms: ‘Owing to his knowledge of the ground, I requested Major-general Windham to remain in command of the intrenchment, the fire of which was a very important feature in the operations of the 6th of December; although I felt and explained to General Windham that it was a command hardly worthy of his rank.’

There was a subsidiary operation in this battle of the 6th. After the capture of the enemy’s camp, in the afternoon, General Mansfield was sent to occupy a position called the Subadar’s Tank, in rear of the enemy’s left, and about a mile and a half from the intrenchment. Having taken measures for the safeguard of the captured camp, and for maintaining a good post on the Calpee road, Mansfield advanced towards the Tank—struggling over broken ground and through enclosures, and driving parties of the enemy before him. After a good deal of manœuvring, in ground that greatly assisted the rebels, Mansfield succeeded in securing the position sought, and had the satisfaction of seeing large bodies of the enemy’s infantry and cavalry move off westward in full retreat. As it was not practicable to communicate with Sir Colin after sunset, the position taken up being almost isolated; and as there were considerable numbers of the enemy still in occupation of the town and the old cantonment—Mansfield strengthened the pickets all round his position, and bivouacked his troops for the night, where they were left undisturbed by the enemy.

The mutineers were so thoroughly worsted in these operations on the 6th, that they retired from Cawnpore, irresolute touching their future plans—some marching in one direction, some in another. After securing and consolidating his position on the 7th, Sir Colin prepared further work for his lieutenants. On the 8th, he gave orders to Brigadier Hope Grant to march to Bithoor, and, if it should appear to him desirable, to advance further to Serai Ghat, a ferry over the Ganges about twenty-five miles above Cawnpore. This energetic officer set off with a strong column of 2800 men[[129]] and 11 guns, and marched through Bithoor to Soorajpore, three miles short of Serai Ghat. Here he bivouacked for the night. Early in the morning of the 9th, leaving a portion of his column to guard the baggage, he advanced with the main body, and found the enemy assembling on the bank of the river. The opposing forces soon got engaged in an artillery action, in which Grant’s guns narrowly escaped being lost in a quicksand at the river-side. After a sharp firing for half an hour, the enemy’s guns were silenced and then withdrawn. Then came up a force of the rebels’ cavalry, to endeavour to capture Grant’s guns; but he promptly sent forward his own cavalry, which advanced upon them, drove them away, pursued them, and cut up a considerable number. The nature of the ground, however, was such that most of the enemy reached the cover of trees and houses before the British could intercept them. Hope Grant’s infantry was not engaged in this conflict; the retreat of the enemy taking place before their aid was needed. The enemy left behind them fourteen brass guns and howitzers, one iron 18-pounder, together with a large store of wagons and ammunition—all of which were speedily secured by the conquerors. These trophies were brought away by the exertions of the infantry, who had much difficulty to contend against along the quicksands. The troops had been marching and fighting for thirty hours, with few and short intervals, and had scarcely eaten for twenty-four hours; so that a supper, a night’s rest, and a quiet day on the 10th, were very welcome to them. This affair at Serai Ghat completely succeeded; but the most extraordinary fact relating to it has yet to be mentioned. Hope Grant’s casualty-list was a blank! In his dispatch he said: ‘I am truly grateful to God, and happy to say, that though the fire of grape from the enemy was most severe and well placed, falling among the artillery like hail, I had not a single man even wounded, and only one horse of Captain Middleton’s battery killed. It was truly marvellous and providential. Thirteen guns, most of them 9-pounders and 24-pounder howitzers, were playing with grape on the gallant artillery, and with round-shot upon the cavalry, the former within about five hundred yards—and his excellency is well aware with what precision these rebels fire their guns—yet not one single man was wounded.’ It requires all one’s faith in the honour of a truthful man to credit such a marvellous announcement.

In the various operations from the 3d to the 8th of December inclusive, Sir Colin suffered a loss of 13 killed and 86 wounded—a mere trifle compared with the strength of his force and the kind of enemy with whom he had to deal. Among the killed were Lieutenants Salmond and Vincent; and among the wounded, General Mansfield, Lieutenant-colonel Horsford, Captains Longden, Forbes, and Mansfield, Lieutenants Neill and Stirling, Ensigns Wrench, Graham, and Dyce. Lieutenant Stirling afterwards died from the effects of a wound which was at first reputed curable.

The occurrences narrated in the last few pages will have shewn by what steps Sir Colin Campbell obtained a firm footing at Cawnpore, as a centre from which he and his officers might operate in various directions. He had removed the British from Lucknow; he had furnished to Outram such a force as would enable that general to hold the Alum Bagh against all assailants; and he had dispersed the formidable rebel army which so endangered Windham and the British interests at Cawnpore. In the latter half of December he prepared to start off, with one portion of his force, towards Furruckabad; while Walpole was to proceed to Etawah, and Hope Grant to Futtehpoor; leaving Seaton to operate near Minpooree, Franks near Benares, and other brigadiers and colonels in various directions as rapidly as small columns could be brought together. The object appeared to be, to attack and disperse the enemy in various parts of the Northwest Provinces, and either permit or compel them to retreat into Oude—where a great effort, made early in the ensuing year, might possibly crush the rebellion altogether. So much of these operations as took place in December may briefly be noticed here, before proceeding to the affairs of Central India.

The whole region around Benares, Mirzapore, Allahabad, Goruckpore, and Jounpoor was thrown into occasional uneasiness—not so much by rebellious manifestations at those places, as by temptations thrown out by the Oudians. Mahomed Hussein was still powerful as a leader near the Oudian frontier; and he left no means untried to rally numerous insurgents around his standard. As the British could spare very few troops for service in this quarter, Mahomed Hussein remained throughout the most of the year master in and near Goruckpore. Even if the British were enabled to defeat him occasionally, they had no cavalry wherewith to organise a pursuit, and he speedily returned to his old quarters. Thus, towards the close of December, Colonel Rowcroft, with a mixed body of English sailors, Sikh police, and Goorkha irregulars, defeated this chieftain near Mujhowlee; but, unable to pursue him without cavalry, the victory was of little effect. Jung Bahadoor, as we have seen in a former chapter, sent a strong body of Goorkhas several weeks earlier to aid in the pacification of this part of India; and the gallant little Nepaulese warriors enabled the few English officers to effect that which would have been impracticable without such assistance. Jung Bahadoor himself, in conformity with an engagement made with Viscount Canning, prepared to join in the scene in person. He descended with 9000 picked men from his mountains in December, to attack the Oudian rebels near Goruckpore and Azimghur, and drive them back to their own country. It was just at the close of the year that he began to encounter the enemy, and to obtain successes which left Franks, Rowcroft, Longden, and other officers, free to engage in such operations as Sir Colin Campbell might plan for them at the opening of the new year.

Allahabad and Mirzapore, though often threatened, remained safely in British hands. In the Rewah district, southwest of those cities, the rajah still continued faithful, and Captain Osborne still carried on those energetic operations by which he had so long and so wonderfully maintained his post in a territory where he was almost the sole Englishman, and where many of the rajah’s troops were burning with impatience to join the insurgents elsewhere. Osborne was incessantly on the watch, and almost incessantly in motion, to keep open the important line of route between Mirzapore through Rewah to Jubbulpoor—part of the available postal route between Calcutta and Bombay. There was a nest of rebels at Myhere that gave him much trouble; but, aided by the faithful portion of the rajah’s troops, he defeated them at Kunchynpore and Zorah; and finally, on the 28th of December, stormed and captured Myhere itself.

In Oude, as the last chapter sufficiently shewed, British power was represented simply and solely by Sir James Outram and his companions in the Alum Bagh and at the Bridge of Bunnee. Lucknow was quite in the hands of the enemy, as were all the provincial districts of Oude. Sir James maintained his post steadily; not strong enough to make conquests, but holding the key to a position that might become all-important as soon as the commander-in-chief should resume operations in that quarter. So well did he keep watch and guard, that the movements of any insurgent troops in his vicinity became speedily known to him. On the 22d of December, the rebels made a clever attempt to obtain possession of the road to Cawnpore. They posted 1200 men inside a jungle, with a sandy plain in front and a road close at hand. Sir James, detecting the intended plan, silently moved out two regiments in the dead of the night. The soft sand deadened all sound; and dawn found them within the enemy’s pickets. A rattling volley and a cheer startled the enemy, who, after one discharge of their muskets, fled, leaving a hundred of their number dead on the field, besides four guns and several ammunition-wagons. One good result of this victory was, to induce some of the villagers to bring supplies for sale to the camp.

In Rohilcund, nothing could at present be effected to wrest the province from the enemy, until the Doab had been cleared from the host of rebels and marauders who infested it.

The proceedings of certain columns in the Doab, both before and after Sir Colin’s victory at Cawnpore, must here be noticed.

Colonel Seaton, during the month of November, was placed in command of a column—consisting of one wing of the 1st Bengal Europeans, the 7th Punjaub infantry, a squadron of Carabiniers, Hodson’s Horse, a troop of horse-artillery, and two companies of Sappers and Miners. Seaton started from Delhi, and worked his way southeastward, between the Jumna and the Ganges, clearing off small portions of the enemy as he went. After picking up at Allygurh a small force from the Agra garrison under Major Eld, he started again on the 13th of December, towards Etawah and Minpooree. The self-styled Rajah of Minpooree, who had fled at the approach of Greathed’s column in October, afterwards returned to his old haunts, and expelled the officials established there by Greathed. His palace had been blown up, and his treasury and jewel-house looted; yet he possessed influence enough to collect a band of retainers in his service. To punish this rebel was one of the duties intrusted to Colonel Seaton. On the 14th, he fell in with a body of the insurgents, 4000 strong, at Gunjeree, on a small stream called the Neem Nuddee. His column suddenly surprised them, disordered them by a brilliant charge of Carabiniers, and drove them in confusion along the Futteghur road—capturing several guns on the way. Hodson’s Horse cut down many of them during a brief pursuit. On the 15th, the column marched to Khasgunj, and on the 16th to Sahawur—in each case only to learn that the enemy had just fled. Seaton, determined not to give them up readily, marched on to Putialah, several miles further on the Furruckabad road, where he came up with them on the morning of the 17th. They were drawn up in a good position, with their centre and left posted behind ravines, and their right abutting on a tope of trees in front of the village. After having caused this position to be well reconnoitred by Captain Hodson and Lieutenant Greathed, Colonel Seaton began the contest with a sharp fire of light artillery, to which the enemy promptly responded. He then ordered the cavalry round to the right, to avoid the ravines, and to attack the enemy in flank. While this was being done, the infantry, deploying into line, advanced boldly on the enemy’s right, charged with the bayonet, and speedily drove them out of the tope and village. The rout was complete, the cavalry having got round beyond the ravines, and reached a point whence they could pursue the fleeing enemy. Thirteen guns, camp-equipage, baggage, ammunition, and stores fell into the hands of the conquerors; while no less than 600 of the enemy were computed to have fallen in the field or during the pursuit. Leaving Furruckabad and its chieftain to be dealt with by Sir Colin Campbell, Colonel Seaton moved on towards Minpooree. He found the enemy awaiting him, posted a mile west of the city, with their front screened by large trees, under cover of which their guns opened upon the column as it came up. Seaton, by a flank-movement, disconcerted them, and they commenced a retreat, which resulted in the loss of six guns and a large number of men. The colonel at once took possession of Minpooree.

Brigadier Showers, another officer to whom the management of a column was intrusted, started, like Seaton, from Delhi, and, like him, sought to regain towns and districts which had long been a prey to misrule. This column began its operations in October, and during the following month returned to Delhi, after having retaken Nunoond, Dadree, and other places southwest of the city, together with many lacs of rupees which the rebels had looted from the several treasuries of the Company. Between Delhi and the Sutlej, General Van Cortlandt maintained tranquillity by the aid of a small force. Colonel Gerrard was the commander of another small column; consisting of one European regiment and a miscellaneous body of native troops. With this he marched to Rewaree, and thence to the town of Narnoul in Jhujjur, where a rebel chief, Sunnand Khan, had taken post with a number of armed retainers. Gerrard defeated them, and captured their stronghold, but his own gallant life was forfeited. Another small force, divided into detachments according to the services required, took charge of the triangular space of country included between Agra, Muttra, and Allygurh. Colonel Riddell and Major Eld moved about actively within this space—now watching the movements of rebellious chieftains, now cutting off the advance of mutineers from Rohilcund.

Colonel Walpole of the Rifle Brigade, in the higher capacity of brigadier, was intrusted by Sir Colin Campbell with the command of a column, consisting of H.M. 88th foot, two battalions of the Rifle Brigade, three squadrons of the 9th Lancers, the 1st Punjaub cavalry, Bourchier’s battery, and Blunt’s troop of horse-artillery. His duty was to sweep along the western half of the Doab, near the Jumna, and clear it of rebels. He started from Cawnpore on the 18th of December, and on the following day reached Akburpore, half-way to Calpee. Here he remained a few days, settling the surrounding country, which had long been disturbed by the Gwalior mutineers. From thence he proceeded towards Etawah, to clear the country in the direction of Agra and Dholpore.

It will thus be seen that, while Sir Colin was engaged in the larger operations at Lucknow and Cawnpore, and soon after the completion of those operations, small columns of troops were marching and fighting in various parts of the Northwest Provinces, clearing away bands of insurgents. The mutinied sepoy regiments still kept together in large bodies, mostly in Oude or on its borders; the insurgents here adverted to were rather marauders and plunderers, who were influenced very little either by creed or by nationality in taking up arms; they were retainers of ambitious petty chieftains, or they were reckless men, who hoped in the scramble to enrich themselves with plunder.

The commander-in-chief himself took the field just before the close of the year. Having made arrangements for the security of Cawnpore after the great victory over the Gwalior mutineers, and having marked out separate paths of duty to be followed by Seaton, Walpole, Hope Grant, Franks, Rowcroft, and other officers, he directed his attention towards Furruckabad, which had long been in hostile hands. This city, near the point of junction of Oude, Rohilcund, and the Doab, it was important to place again under British control. Colonel Seaton was ordered to direct his march towards that point, after other operations in the Doab; and Sir Colin now arranged to co-operate with him. Leaving Cawnpore in the last week of December, he marched up the great trunk-road, by way of Meerun-ke-Serai. It was not, however, until the year 1858 had arrived, that Campbell, Walpole, and Seaton, meeting from various points, effected a thorough capture of Furruckabad, and of the long deserted cantonment at Futteghur. Here, however, as in many other quarters, the commander-in-chief had to bear the vexation of losing his prey; the enemy, wonderfully alert in their movements, escaped from those places just before he reached them; he captured both the towns, but the enemy were still at large to fight elsewhere.

Let us on to Delhi.

Ever since the conquest in September, the imperial city had gradually assumed a state somewhat more orderly than was possible immediately after the siege. Many weeks after the conquest, when the Delhi Gazette had again got into working-order, it contained a graphic account of the city in its condition at that time. On the road from Kurnaul to Delhi was an almost continuous line of dead carcasses of camels, horses, and bullocks, with their skins dried into parchment over the mouldering bones. Here and there were remains of intrenchments, where battles had been fought on the road. From Badulla Serai to the Lahore Gate of the city every tree was either levelled with the ground, or the branches lopped off with round-shot. The garden-houses of the wealthy citizens were in almost every instance masses of ruins, with the bleaching remains of men and beasts around them. Here and there might be seen a perfectly white skeleton of a human being; while on all sides lay scattered fragments of red and blue clothing, cartouch-boxes, round-shot, fragments of shell, and grape-shot. Near the Subzee Mundee every tree was a mere bare trunk, with the branches and foliage gone, and shot-marks visible all around. The gaily ornamented residences near at hand were masses of blackened ruins, with sand-bags and loopholed screens which told of many a scene of fiery warfare. With the exception of the Moree Bastion and the Cashmere Gate, the northern wall of the city did not exhibit much evidence of devastation. The Cashmere Gate breach had been repaired. The mainguard was wholly destroyed. St James’s Church was full of shot-holes, even up to the ball and cross. Most of the houses in this part of the city were utter ruins, some blackened as if by fire. The Bank, formerly the residence of the Begum Sumroo, had nothing but the walls and fragments of verandah remaining; and in a like state was the house of Sir T. Metcalfe. In the narrow street leading from Skinner’s house to the Chandnee Chowk, every house bore visible proof of the showers of musket-balls that must have fallen; and every door was completely riddled. The roads were still cut up with shot and shell furrows. In many of the streets might be seen the débris of archways, which had been built up by the city people, but broken into by our troops. Shop-doors and huge gates lay about in all directions, many of which were well backed up by heavy stone-work, logs of wood, &c.; and remains of sand-bag defences were numerous. In short, the city shewed that it had been obstinately defended, and that its conquest must have been terrible work for besiegers as well as besieged.

The aged king and his family still continued to be the subjects of newspaper gossip, mostly in a strain of fierce invective against the authorities for shewing lenity. It was stated in a former chapter,[[130]] that Mrs Hodson, wife to the gallant officer who had captured the king, made public the result of a visit to the royal captives, as shewing that no undue luxury marked their prison-life. But still the charges and insinuations continued. Newspaper paragraphs circulated the news that Jumma Bukht, son or grandson of the king, was allowed to ride about the streets of Delhi on an elephant, with an English colonel behind him; and that indulgence was granted to men whose only desert was speedy hanging. Captain (Major) Hodson himself made public a refutation of this charge, shewing the absurd way in which a very trifling incident had been magnified into a state proceeding. A military commission was appointed to try such leaders of the mutiny as were captured in or near Delhi. By sentence of this tribunal, twenty subordinate members of the royal family were executed on the 18th of November. Shortly afterwards, various chiefs of Goorgaon, Jhujjur, and Babulgurh were similarly put upon their trial, and sentenced according to the strength of the evidence brought against them.

St James’s Church, Delhi.

The subject of prize-money remained for many weeks, or even months, involved in much controversy in Delhi. Notwithstanding the ruin and devastation, the amount of property recovered was very large, including forfeitures declared against those who were convicted of treason. This wealth reverted to the state, as a slight set-off for the vast expenses incurred. Some of the officers and soldiers, however, fondly hoped that it would be regarded as booty for the troops; and were thrown rather into discontent by an announcement that the reward of the conquerors of Delhi was to consist of six months’ ‘batta’ or pay. It was just one of those questions on which much might be said on both sides. By a subsequent arrangement, much of the personal property lately belonging to the rebels was set apart, and treated as prize-money to be shared by the soldiers engaged in the capture.

The leniency question, the prize-money question, and the paucity of reward to the engineer officers engaged in the siege of Delhi, were among many subjects made matter for controversy during the later weeks of the year. But these we may pass over without further comment. Suffice it to say that the reconquered city remained in British hands, and was gradually brought under the control of the British authorities. As to the aged king, preparations were made for subjecting him to a regular trial, to be commenced shortly after the arrival of the new year.

Of the Punjaub, little need be said. Happily for British interests in India, the same powerful mind continued to wield the destinies of the remote province. Sir John Lawrence, watchful over everything that occurred, not only maintained the Punjaub in quiet, but sent frequent reinforcements to other provinces. During the summer and autumn, the number of Sikh and Punjaubee regiments which he raised was something marvellous. Occasionally some of the wild tribes exhibited signs of insubordination; but they were met with such a determined front, and they received so little sympathy from the mass of the people, that their turbulence fell harmless. John Lawrence saved the Punjaub, and the Punjaub saved British India.

In all the portion of the empire included within the Saugor territories, Bundelcund, the Mahratta states, and Rajpootana, the months of November and December differed from the previous months principally in this circumstance—that the new mutinies were fewer, because the materials for mutiny were becoming exhausted; but that the battles were more numerous, because small armies were gradually being sent up from Madras and Bombay.

In October and November, many military operations in the Mahratta and Saugor countries were placed in doubt, so far as concerned the comprehension of them in England, by a difference of only one letter in the names of two commanders. The movements of Brigadier Steuart were often attributed to Brigadier Stuart, and vice versâ. Steuart commanded a column in the Deccan, which marched to Hosungabad, and then across the Nerbudda to Sehore. His duty was to protect Saugor on the right, Indore on the left, and Bhopal in the centre. By these movements, Saugor and Jubbulpoor were rendered tolerably safe. Holkar, at Indore, was sadly troubled by the mutinous feeling among his own troops. In order to maintain British influence in that important quarter, the Bombay government organised a new column, which, strengthened by other troops, would form a Malwah Field Force, to be placed under the command of Sir Hugh Rose; while Sir Robert Hamilton was ordered to resume his old appointment as British resident at Holkar’s court.

Brigadier Stuart, portions of whose column were engaged in and near Neemuch, Mundisore, Dhar, Mehidpore, Rampoora, and Kotah in October, swept off many parties of rebels from the regions bordering on Malwah and Rajpootana. Nevertheless the state of affairs remained very unsettled. Many petty chieftains, incited by the numerical weakness of the British, and by the unexpected stand made by rebels elsewhere, appeared by tacit agreement to consider this the proper time to set up as little kings on their own account, each relying on the services of retainers who probably thought that something good might come to their share in the scramble.

At a somewhat later date, when Stuart was in command of the Malwah Field Force, before its name was changed to the ‘First Brigade of the Nerbudda Field Force,’ he had a contest with the Mundisore rebels. Being joined by a portion of the Hyderabad Contingent under Major Orr, Stuart approached within three or four miles of Mundisore on the 21st of November. This town is a few miles south of Neemuch, on the road to Indore. The brigadier encamped until a good reconnaissance could be effected. The rebel enemy at Mundisore, hearing of his approach, had posted pickets entirely covering the country over which he was advancing; they also mustered in some force outside the walls, and appeared inclined to attack. In the afternoon he found that the enemy were advancing in form, threatening his centre and both flanks at the same time. They advanced steadily, in great numbers and with banners flying: and he went forth to meet them. The struggle was a brief one. Major Orr easily repulsed the enemy’s attack on the left flank; Captain Orr and Lieutenant Dew checked that on the right; a few rounds of artillery preserved the centre; and the enemy, giving way at all points, retreated into the town. Brigadier Stuart had now another matter to consider. He heard that a rebel army of 5000 men, employed in besieging Neemuch, intended to raise the siege, and to join their companions at Mundisore. This he resolved to prevent if possible by intercepting them. Accordingly, early on the 22d, he marched to such a position as would command the approaches to Mundisore; and later in the day his cavalry were engaged with a party of rebel horse under Heera Singh—one of many Rajpoot chieftains who took up arms at that disturbed period. Keeping a sharp watch during the night, Stuart prepared on the morning of the 23d to control the Neemuch and Mundisore road both from the north and the south. The enemy appeared, and took up a strong position with their right in and beyond the village of Goraria, their right centre covered by a date nullah and lines of date-trees, their battery of six guns on rising ground, with a large mud-hut protecting their gunners, and their left stretched along the ridge running east from the village. The battle that ensued was a very severe one. Stuart was obliged to recall a body of infantry, who charged a village that seemed full of the enemy; the rebels took possession of the houses, from which they kept up a very galling fire. The British could doubtless have taken the village; but the brigadier found his rear attacked by a second body of the enemy, requiring a new distribution of his troops. The engagements of this day resulted in a sort of drawn battle. On the 24th, the village was shelled for three hours; and was then captured by H.M. 86th and a native regiment, with considerable loss on both sides. During the ensuing night the enemy evacuated Mundisore and the whole vicinity, dispersing in flight throughout the country, after having lost at least fifteen hundred men during the four days. The brigadier then moved his camp to Mundisore, and made arrangements for dismantling the fort and destroying the guns before leaving the neighbourhood. By this series of operations, not only was Mundisore cleared of rebels, but Neemuch was relieved from a force which pressed very threateningly upon it.

The siege of Neemuch must now be noticed. The small English garrison at this station had for months been threatened by the Mundisore rebels; but it was not until the 8th of November that a formidable attack was actually made. A force of 5000 infantry, with three guns, advanced to within two miles of the town; and as it was impossible to meet such numbers in the open field, Captain Simpson prepared for the best defence he could make within the fort. Intrenchments had been formed some time before; but unfortunately they were too extensive to be effectively defended by the few hands in the garrison; and they thus speedily became occupied by the enemy. On the 9th, the enemy marched in full force into the bazaar and cantonment, plundering wherever they went. They then placed their guns at convenient distances, and began playing steadily against the fort. This cannonading was continued for several days. The rebels managed to build batteries for their guns in such positions that, from the foliage and other obstacles, they were unobservable from the walls of the fort. After about a fortnight of this battering, the rebels resolved to attempt an escalade. They brought forward huge ladders on wheels, affording room for four men abreast, and placed them against the walls of the fort; but here they were met by such steady and continuous volleys of musketry that not a man could enter. A Beloochee Mohammedan, belonging to the 12th Bombay native infantry, doing duty in Neemuch, performed an act of gallantry that won for him much and well-deserved applause. One of the besiegers, in retreating from the withering musketry-fire from the fort, dropped a splendid Mussulman green flag on the ground. The Beloochee at once offered to capture this flag. Under cover of a tremendous fire of musketry, he and a havildar were lowered by a rope from one of the enclosures; quick as lightning the flag was secured, and in a few minutes waved on the walls of Neemuch. The movements of Brigadier Stuart, recorded in the last paragraph, now disturbed the rebels; they departed, and Neemuch was for a time spared further molestation.

This narrative may pass over without particular mention the other regions of the vast empire of India. Disturbances there were in November and December, but not of such grave importance as to call for record. At Saugor and at Jubbulpore, the Europeans cried loudly for more troops, but they were still able to defend themselves against actual attacks. At Gwalior and at Bhopal, at Indore and at Mhow, although the vexations were many, the continued fidelity of Scindia and Holkar lessened the calamities that might otherwise have befallen the British. In Rajpootana and Gujerat, petty chieftains would from time to time unfurl the flag of rebellion, and collect a band of fighting retainers around them; but these territories were within practicable reach of Bombay, whence columns marched for the pacification of the upper country. Some portions of the Nizam’s territory were occasionally troubled by insubordinate troops belonging to the contingent; as the Nizam and his prime-minister, however, remained firm in their alliance with the British, and as the distance was very great to the turbulent regions of the Jumna, serious danger was averted. In the South Mahratta country, around Kolapore, Sholapore, Satara, and Poonah, indications once now and then appeared that fanatic Mohammedans were ready to unfurl the green flag against the infidel Feringhees; but the near vicinity of the presidential city of Bombay, and the quiet demeanour of the natives further south, prevented the intended conspiracies from becoming serious in magnitude. In the Madras presidency, tranquillity was almost wholly undisturbed.

Thus ended the extraordinary year 1857—the most momentous that the English had ever experienced in India.