Note.

Transport of Troops to India.—Early in the session of 1858, many members of the legislature, anxious to witness the adoption of the speediest mode of transporting troops to India, insisted not only that the overland route viâ Suez ought to have been adopted from the first, but also that the government and the East India Company ought to receive national censure for their real or supposed remissness on this point. In former chapters the fact has been rendered evident that, among the many important questions pressed upon the attention of the government, none was more imminent than that which related to the mode of strengthening the British army in India. England, not a military country in the continental estimate of that phrase, could ill spare troops to wage a great war in her Eastern possessions; and yet such a course was absolutely necessary. With ninety-nine regiments of line-infantry, and a proportionate number of troops of other kinds, she had to defend nearly thirty colonies besides the home country. Nay, at the very time when the mutiny began, she had barely finished a war with Persia, and had just commenced another with China—superadded to the defensive requirements just adverted to. Had the Persian expedition not been brought to a successful termination in the spring of 1857, and had the regiments destined for China become practically engaged in hostilities in that country at that time, it is difficult to imagine how the governor-general could have sent up any reinforcements from Calcutta, or Lord Elphinstone from Bombay, until summer had far advanced. Under the particular circumstances of time and place, however, Generals Outram and Havelock were released from their duties in Persia time enough to conduct the important operations at Lucknow and elsewhere—bringing with them the Queen’s troops and Company’s troops which had been engaged in the war in that country; while, on the other side, troops intended for service in China were rendered available for the needs of India. Still, this did not affect the strictures passed in the home country. Members of the legislature inquired, and journalists inquired: ‘Why was not the overland route adopted for or by troops sent from England?’ Hence the appointment of a committee of the House of Commons—‘To inquire concerning the measures resorted to, or which were available, and as to the lines of communication adopted for reinforcing our army during the pending Revolt in India, and report thereon to the House: with a view to ascertaining the arrangements which should be made towards meeting any future important emergencies involving the security of our Eastern dominions.’

As the report given in by the committee was comprised within a few paragraphs, we will present it unaltered here, and then touch upon a few matters of detail connected with the subject.

The committee agreed to report:

‘1. That the inquiry which this committee has been appointed to conduct may be divided into three branches: the first, relating to the overland route to India; the second, to the employment of steamers, as compared with sailing-vessels, for the transport of troops round the Cape of Good Hope; and the third, to the use made during the mutiny of the military resources of this country and of the colonies.

‘2. That the Court of Directors appear, from the first intelligence of the mutiny at Meerut, to have been sensible of the advantages of the overland route, and to have lost no time in recommending its adoption; but that political and other considerations deterred her Majesty’s ministers from at once assenting to that recommendation.

‘3. That the committee cannot judge of the validity of those political objections, as they felt themselves precluded from inquiring into them; but that they ceased to prevail in the first week of September, when the more serious character of the war and the lateness of the season for ships departing for Calcutta, led to a formal requisition from the Court of Directors, and to a compliance with it on the part of the cabinet.

‘4. That it would have been desirable, independently of political considerations, to have taken advantage of the overland route at the earliest possible period; and, apart from such considerations, it is much to be regretted that the steps that were taken in September to transmit small bodies of troops by this route were not resorted to at an earlier date. That the transport, however, of any large body of troops would have required previous arrangements, and that the evidence laid before the committee leaves great room to doubt whether any considerable reinforcements could have been sent in the months of July and August, with a prospect of their arrival in India so far in advance of those sent round the Cape as to give any great advantage in favour of this route.

‘5. That although the overland route may be advantageously employed in times of emergency, it would not be advisable that it should be relied upon as the ordinary route for the transmission of troops to India.

‘6. That if steamers had been used in greater numbers, the reinforcements would have reached India more quickly than they did by sailing-vessels; but that no evidence has been laid before the committee to shew that, at the time the emergency arose, a greater amount of steam-transport was attainable; whilst it has been shewn that grave doubts existed whether the supply of coal on the route would have been sufficient for a larger number of steam-vessels than were actually employed.

‘7. That steamers should for the future be always made use of, as far as possible, in urgent cases; but that, for the transmission of the ordinary reliefs, the committee would not recommend the adoption of so costly a mode of transport.

‘8. That the governors of Ceylon and the Mauritius gave early and valuable assistance to the government of India, and deserve great praise for the zeal and promptitude with which they acted; that the governor of the Cape, without loss of time, forwarded treasure and horses, together with a portion of the troops at his disposal, but that he did not send the whole amount of the force which he was instructed by the home government to transmit to India; that the committee have not the means of judging whether the circumstances of the colony did or did not justify Sir George Grey in taking this course.

‘9. That the committee observe with satisfaction that the people of Canada displayed great readiness to afford assistance to the mother-country, and that the committee are of opinion that it is highly desirable to give every encouragement to such demonstrations of loyalty on the part of the colonies.

‘10. That on the whole, considering the suddenness of the danger, and the distance to which the troops were to be sent, the committee are of opinion that great credit is due to the Court of Directors of the East India Company for the promptitude and efficiency with which they discharged the difficult task of transmitting reinforcements to the army in India during the past year.’

From the tenor of this report, it is evident that the East India directors were ready to adopt the overland route before the government gave in their adhesion. The ‘political reasons’ for avoiding that route were connected with the relations between Egypt and various European countries: relations often involving jealousy and diplomatic intrigue, and likely to be thrown into some perplexity by the passage of troops belonging to another nation. The ministers were unwilling to speak out plainly on this point, possibly for fear of giving offence to France; and the committee, though sorely against the wish of some of its members, refrained from pressing them on this point; hence the cautious phraseology of the report, throwing a sort of shield over the government.

In reference to the proceedings connected with the transport of troops to India, it may be well to advert to a few dates. The home government received, on the 9th of April, the first intimation that a disaffected spirit had made its appearance among the native troops at Barrackpore. On the 19th of May, Lord Ellenborough inquired in the House of Lords whether reinforcements were being sent to India; a reply in the affirmative was given, accompanied by an expression of opinion that the disaffection was of very minor character. Shortly afterwards, in the House of Commons, a similar belief was expressed by members of the government that the occurrences at Barrackpore were trifling, not likely to lead to serious results. At that period, as we have already seen,[[175]] the Bengal presidency, including the vast range of territory from Pegu to Peshawur, contained about 23,000 European troops and 119,000 native; the Madras presidency, 10,000 European and 50,000 native; the Bombay presidency, 5000 European and 31,000 native—making a total of about 38,000 Company’s and Queen’s European troops, and 200,000 native. These, the actual numbers, were exclusive of the large brigades of the Bombay army at that time engaged in, or not yet returned from, the Persian expedition. During May, the government and the East India directors decided that more European troops ought to be in India, in consideration both of the condition of India itself, and of the incidence of war in Persia and China; and the early dispatch of four regiments was decided on. At length, on the 27th of June, arrived a telegram announcing the revolt at Meerut and the seizure of Delhi by the mutineers. While Lord Elgin on the way to China, Lord Harris at Madras, Lord Elphinstone at Bombay, Sir Henry Ward at Ceylon, Sir James Higginson at Mauritius, and Sir George Grey at the Cape of Good Hope, were using their best exertions to send troops to aid Viscount Canning, the home authorities considered what best could be done in furnishing reinforcements from England. There were no less than 13,000 troops at the Cape of Good Hope at that time, including ten regiments of Queen’s infantry; it was fully believed in England that the governor might well have spared the greater portion of these troops; and the smallness of the number really contributed by him led to much disappointment in India, and much adverse criticism in England.

When the authorities at the War-office commenced their arrangements for despatching troops to India, they had to provide for a sea-voyage of about fourteen thousand miles. A question arose whether, without changing the route or shortening the distance, the duration of the voyage might not be lessened by the employment of steam-vessels instead of sailing-ships. The Admiralty, and most members of the government, opposed this change on various grounds, principally in relation to difficulties in the supply of fuel, but partly in relation to monsoons and other winds. By the 10th of July, out of 31 vessels chartered by the government and the Company for conveying troops to India, nearly all were sailing-ships. A change of feeling took place about that date; the nation estimated time to be so valuable, that the authorities were almost coerced into the chartering of some of the noble merchant-steamers, the rapid voyages of which were already known. Between the 10th of July and the 1st of December, 59 ships were chartered, of which 29 were screw-steamers. The autumnal averages of passages to India were greatly in favour of steamers. Within a certain number of weeks there were 62 troop-laden ships despatched from England to one or other of the ports, Calcutta, Madras, Bombay, Kurachee; the average duration of all the voyages was 120 days by sailing-vessels, and only 83 days by steamers—a diminution of nearly one-third. Extending the list of ships to a later date, so as to include a greater number, it was found that 82 ships carried 30,378 troops from the United Kingdom to India—thus divided: 66 sailing-ships carried 16,234 men, averaging 299 each; 27 steamers carried 14,144, averaging 522 each. It was calculated that 14,000 of these British soldiers arrived in India five weeks earlier, by the adoption of steam instead of sailing-vessels. It is impossible to estimate what amount of change might have been produced in the aspect of Indian affairs, had these steam-voyages been made in the summer rather than in the autumn; it might not have been permitted to the mutineers to rule triumphant at Lucknow till the spring of the following year, or the fidelity of wavering chieftains to give way under the long continuance of the struggle.

Besides the two inquiries concerning the promptness with which troops were sent, and the kind of vessels employed to convey them, there was a third relating to the route adopted. From the earliest news of the revolt at Meerut, many persons in and out of parliament strenuously recommended the use of the overland route, as being much shorter than any possible ocean-route. The Court of Directors viewed this proposal more favourably than the government. Until the month of September, ‘political difficulties’ were dimly hinted at by ministers, but without any candid explanations; and as the objections gave way in the month just named, the nation arrived at a pretty general conclusion that these difficulties had never been of a very insurmountable character. It is only fair to state, however, that many experienced men viewed the overland route with distrust, independently of any political considerations. They adverted to the incompleteness of the railway arrangements between Alexandria and Cairo; to the difficulty of troops marching or riding over the sandy desert from Cairo to Suez; to the wretchedness of Suez as a place of re-embarkation; and to the unhealthiness of a voyage down the Red Sea in hot summer weather. Nevertheless, it was an important fact that the East India directors, most of whom possessed personal knowledge concerning the routes to India, urged the government from the first to send at least a portion of the troops by the Suez route. It was not until the 19th of September that assent was given; and the 13th of October witnessed the arrival of the first detachment of English troops into the Indian Ocean viâ Suez. These started from Malta on the 1st of the month. On the 2d of October, the first regiment started from England direct, to take the overland route to India. The Peninsular and Oriental Steam-navigation Company, having practically almost a monopoly of the Suez route, conveyed the greater portion of the troops sent in this way; and it may be useful to note the length of journey in the principal instances. The following are tabulated examples giving certain items—such as, the name of the steamer, the date of leaving England, the number of troops conveyed, and the time of reaching Alexandria, to commence the overland portion of the journey:

Steamer.Left England.No. of Troops.Days to Alexandria.
Sultan,1857.Oct.224813days.
Dutchman, Oct.1425617days.
Sultan, Nov.1726414days.
Euxine, Dec.223615days.
Indus, Dec.48314days.
Abeona, Dec.886115days.
Pera,1858.Feb.423115days.
Ripon, Feb.1124215days.
Sultan, Feb.2424413days.
Malabar, Mar.1126414days.
Ripon, Mar.2742014days.
Benares, Apr.860717days.

Thus the voyage was made on an average in about 14½ days, from the shores of England to those of Egypt. The landing at Alexandria, the railway journey to Cairo, the journey by vans and donkeys across the desert, the short detention at Suez, and the embarkation in another steamer at that port, occupied a number of days varying from 2 to 17—depending chiefly on the circumstance whether or not a steamer was ready at Suez to receive the troops when they arrived from Alexandria; the average was about 5½ days. From Suez the voyages were made to Kurachee, Bombay, Ceylon, Madras, or Calcutta. The steamers took forward all the troops mentioned in the above list, as well as others which reached Alexandria by other means. Most of these troops were landed at Bombay or Kurachee, as being nearer than Calcutta; and the average length of voyage was just 16 days. The result, then, presented was this:

England to Alexandria,14½days’ average.
Alexandria to Suez,5½days’ average.
Suez to India,16 days’ average.
———
36 days’ average.

Those which went to Calcutta instead of Bombay or Kurachee, were about 3 days longer. Comparing these figures with those before given, we arrive at the following remarkable conclusion:

Sailing-ships round Cape,120days’ average.
Steamers round Cape,83days’ average.
Suez route,36days’ average.

This, as a question of time, triumphantly justified all that had been said by the advocates of the shortest route; nor did it appear that there were any counterbalancing disadvantages experienced. Between the 6th of November 1857, and the 18th of May 1858, more than 5000 officers and soldiers landed in India, who had travelled by the Suez overland route from England.

[171]. ‘With the concurrence of the government, the commander-in-chief is pleased to direct that white clothing shall be discontinued in the European regiments of the Honourable Company’s army; and that for the future the summer-clothing of the European soldiers shall consist of two suits of “khakee,” corresponding in pattern and material with the clothing recently sanctioned for the royal army of England. Corps are to be permitted to wear out serviceable summer-clothing of the old pattern now in use; but in regiments in which this clothing requires to be renewed, the new pattern now established is to be introduced without delay. Commanding officers will take steps to obtain patterns from regiments of her Majesty’s service. A complete suit, including cap-cover, should not exceed in cost 4-12 rupees. The summer-clothing now authorised will be supplied from the clothing agency of the presidency to all recruits of the Company’s service arriving at Calcutta between 1st February and 1st October, to be issued with the least possible delay after arrival of the recruits.’

[172]. Cavalry.—1st Brigade, under Brigadier Jones (6th Dragoon Guards). Head-quarters and two squadrons 6th Dragoon Guards, under Captain Bickerstaff; Captain Lind’s Moultanee horse. 2d Brigade, under Brigadier Hagart (7th Hussars). Her Majesty’s 9th Lancers, under Major Coles; 2d Punjaub cavalry, under Major S. Browne; detachments of Lahore light horse, 1st Punjaub cavalry, 5th Punjaub cavalry, and 17th irregular cavalry.

Artillery.—Under Lieutenant-colonel Brind, C.B., B.A.; Lieutenant-colonel Tombs’s troop, B.H.A.; Lieutenant-colonel Remington’s troop, B.H.A.; Major Hammond’s light field-battery, B.A., four guns; two heavy field-batteries. Captain Francis, B.A.; siege-train with Major Le Mesurier’s company, B.A., under Captain Cookworthy’s detachment, B.A.; detachment R.E. Bengal and Punjaub; Sappers and Miners, under Lieutenant-colonel Harness, R.E., chief-engineer to the force.

Infantry.—Highland Brigade, under Lieutenant-colonel Leith Hay, C.B. (her Majesty’s 92d Highlanders). Her Majesty’s 42d Highlanders, under Lieutenant-colonel Cameron; her Majesty’s 79th Highlanders, under Lieutenant-colonel Taylor, C.B.; her Majesty’s 93d Highlanders, under Lieutenant-colonel Ross; 4th Punjaub Rifles, Lieutenant M’Queen; Belooch Battalion, Captain Beville. Brigadier Stisted’s (70th) Brigade. Seven companies her Majesty’s 64th foot, Lieutenant-colonel Bingham, C.B.; her Majesty’s 78th Highlanders, Colonel Hamilton; 4 companies her Majesty’s 82 foot, Colonel the Hon. P. Herbert, C.B.; 2d Punjaub infantry, Lieutenant-colonel Greene; 22d Punjaub infantry, Captain Stafford.

[173]. ‘The commander-in-chief has received the most gracious commands of her Majesty the Queen to communicate to the army an expression of the deep interest felt by the Queen in the exertions of the troops, and the successful progress of the campaign.

‘Sir Colin Campbell has delayed giving execution to the royal command, until he was able to announce to the army that the last stronghold of rebellion had fallen before the persevering attempts of the troops of her Majesty and the Hon. East India Company.

‘It is impossible for the commander-in-chief to express adequately his sense of the high honour done to him in having been chosen by the Queen to convey her Majesty’s most gracious acknowledgments to the army, in the ranks of which he has passed his life.

‘The commander-in-chief ventures to quote the very words of the Queen:

‘“That so many gallant, brave, and distinguished men, beginning with one whose name will ever be remembered with pride, Brigadier-general Havelock, should have died and fallen, is a great grief to the Queen. To all Europeans and native troops who have fought so nobly and so gallantly—and amongst whom the Queen is rejoiced to see the 93d—the Queen wishes Sir Colin to convey the expression of her great admiration and gratitude.”’

[174]. See Chap. viii., p. [138].

[175]. Chapter xii., p. [208].

Sir Hugh Rose.

CHAPTER XXX.
ROSE’S VICTORIES AT CALPEE AND GWALIOR.

The fame of Sir Hugh Rose came somewhat unexpectedly upon the British people. Although well known to persons connected with India as a gallant officer belonging to the Bombay army, Rose’s military services were not ‘household words’ in the mother-country. Henry Havelock had made himself the hero of the wars of the mutiny by victories won in a time when the prospects were stern and gloomy; and it was not easy for others to become heroes of like kind, when compared in the popular mind with such a noble soldier. Hence it may possibly be that the relative merits of Campbell, Havelock, Neill, Wilson, Nicholson, Outram, Hope Grant, Inglis, Rose, Roberts, Napier, Eyre, Greathed, Jones, Smith, Lugard, and other officers, as military leaders, will remain undecided for a long period—until dispatches, memoirs, and journals have thrown light on the minuter details of the operations. Be this as it may, Sir Hugh Rose won for himself a high name by a series of military exploits skilfully conceived and brilliantly executed.

To understand the true scope of Rose’s proceedings in the months of May and June, it may be well to recapitulate briefly the state of matters at the close of the preceding month.

After Sir Hugh—with the 1st brigade of his Central India Field-force under Brigadier Stuart, and the 2d brigade under Brigadier Steuart—had captured the important city of Jhansi, in the early part of April, his subsequent proceedings were determined according to the manœuvres of the rebels elsewhere. Jhansi, as the strongest and most important place in Bundelcund, was a valuable conquest; but as the Ranee and Tanteea Topee—the one chieftainess of Jhansi, and the other a representative of the Mahratta influence of Nena Sahib in these parts—had escaped, with the greater part of their rebel troops, it became necessary to continue the attack against them wherever they might be. The safety of Jhansi, the succour of the sick and wounded, and the reconstruction of his field-force, detained Rose in that city until the 25th of the month; but Majors Orr and Gall were in the interim actively employed in chasing and defeating various bodies of rebels in the surrounding country. Orr was sent from Jhansi across the river Betwah to Mhow, to clear that region from insurgents, and then to join Rose on the way to Calpee; he captured a small fort at Goorwai, near the Betwah, and kept a sharp watch on the proceedings of the rebel Rajahs of Banpore and Shagurh. Gall, with two squadrons of the 14th Dragoons and three 9-pounders, was commissioned to reconnoitre the position and proceedings of the rebels on the Calpee road; he captured the fort of Lohare, belonging to the insurgent Rajah of Sumpter. Hearing that Tanteea Topee, Ram Rao Gobind, and other leaders, had made Calpee a stronghold, and intended to dispute the passage of the road from Jhansi to that place, Rose laid his plans accordingly. Calpee, though not a large place, was important as being on the right bank of the Jumna, and on the main road from Jhansi to Cawnpore. During the later days of April, Sir Hugh was on the road to Calpee with the greater part of his two brigades; the rest of his troops, under Orr, Gall, and one or two other officers, being engaged in detached services. At that same time, General Whitlock, after defeating many bodies of rebels in and near the Banda district, was gradually tending towards a junction with Rose at Calpee; while General Roberts was at Kotah, keeping a vigilant eye on numerous turbulent bands in Rajpootana.

When May arrived, Sir Hugh, needing the services of Majors Orr and Gall with his main force, requested General Whitlock to watch the districts in which those two officers had been engaged. Being joined on the 8th by his second brigade (except the regiments and detachments left to guard Jhansi), he resumed his march on the 9th. News reached him that Tanteea Topee and the Ranee intended to dispute his passage towards Calpee at a place called Koonch, with a considerable force of cavalry and infantry. As soon as he arrived at Koonch, he engaged the enemy, drove them from their intrenchment, entered the town, cut them up severely, pursued them to a considerable distance, and captured several guns. The heat on this occasion was fearful. Rose himself was three times during the day disabled by the sun, but on each occasion rallied, and was able to remount; he caused buckets of cold water to be dashed on him, and then resumed the saddle, all wet as he was. Thirteen of his gallant but overwrought soldiers were killed by sun-stroke. Nothing daunted by this severe ordeal, he marched on to Hurdwee, Corai, Ottah, and other villages obscure to English readers, capturing a few more guns as he went. Guided by the information which reached him concerning the proceedings of the rebels, Sir Hugh, when about ten miles from Calpee, bent his line of march slightly to the west, in order to strike the Jumna near Jaloun, a little to the northwest of Calpee. He had also arranged that Colonel Riddell, with a column from Etawah, should move down upon Calpee from the north; that Colonel Maxwell, with a column from Cawnpore, should advance from the east; and that General Whitlock should watch the country at the south. The purpose of this combination evidently was, not only that Calpee should be taken, but that all outlets for the escape of the rebels should as far as possible be closed.

On the 15th, the two brigades of Rose’s force joined at a point about six miles from Calpee. A large mass of the enemy here made a dash at the baggage and rear-guard, but were driven off without effecting much mischief. When he reached the Jumna, Rose determined to encamp for a while in a well-watered spot; and was enabled, by a personal visit from Colonel Maxwell, to concert further plans with him, to be put in force on the arrival of Maxwell’s column. On the 16th, a strong reconnoitring column under Major Gall proceeded along the Calpee road; it consisted of various detachments of infantry, cavalry, and horse-artillery. On the same day, the second brigade was attacked by the enemy in great force, and was not relieved without a sharp skirmish. On the 17th, the enemy made another attack, which was, however, repulsed with less difficulty. Nena Sahib’s nephew was believed to be the leader of the rebels on these two occasions. It was not until the 18th that Rose could begin shelling the earthworks which they had thrown up in front of the town. Greatly to their astonishment, the enemy found that Maxwell arrived at the opposite bank of the Jumna on the 19th, to assist in bombarding the place; they apparently had not expected this, and were not prepared with defences on that side. On the 20th, they came out in great force on the hills and nullahs around the town, attempted to turn the flank of Sir Hugh’s position, and displayed a determination and perseverance which they had not hitherto exhibited; but they were, as usual, driven in again. On the 21st, a portion of Maxwell’s column crossed the Jumna and joined Rose; while his heavy artillery and mortars were got into position. On the 22d, Maxwell’s batteries opened fire across the river, and continued it throughout the night, while Sir Hugh was making arrangements for the assault. The rebels, uneasy at the prospect before them, and needing nothing but artillery to reply to Maxwell’s fire, resolved to employ the rest of their force in a vigorous attack on Rose’s camp at Gulowlie. Accordingly, on that same day, the 22d, they issued forth from Calpee in great force, and attacked him with determination. Rose’s right being hard pressed by them, he brought up his reserve corps, charged with the bayonet, and repulsed the assailants at that point. Then moving his whole line forward, he put the enemy completely to rout. In these assaults, the rebels had the advantage of position; the country all round Calpee was very rugged and uneven, with steep ravines and numerous nullahs; insomuch that Rose had much difficulty in bringing his artillery into position. The assaults were made by numbers estimated at not far less than fifteen thousand men. The 71st and 86th foot wrought terrible destruction amongst the dense masses of the enemy. About noon on the 23d, the victorious Sir Hugh marched on from Gulowlie to Calpee. The enemy, who were reported to have chosen Calpee as a last stand-point, and to have sworn either to destroy Sir Hugh’s army or to die in the attempt, now forgot their oath; they fled panic-stricken after firing a few shot, and left him master of the town and fort of Calpee. This evacuation was hastened by the effect of Maxwell’s bombardment from the other side of the river.

Throughout the whole of the wars of the mutiny, the mutineers succeeded in escaping after defeat; they neither surrendered as prisoners of war, nor remained in the captured towns to be slaughtered. They were nimble and on the watch, knew the roads and jungles well, and had generally good intelligence of what was going on; while the British were seldom or never in such force as to be enabled completely to surround the places besieged: as a consequence, each siege ended in a flight. Thus it had been in Behar, Oude, the Doab, and Rohilcund; and thus Rose and his coadjutors found it in Bundelcund, Rajpootana, and Central India. Sir Hugh had given his troops a few hours’ repose after the hot work of the 22d; and this respite seems to have encouraged the rebels to flee from the beleaguered town; but they would probably have succeeded in doing the same thing, though with greater loss, if he had advanced at once. The British had lost about forty commissariat carts, laden with tea, sugar, arrack, and medical comforts; but their loss in killed and wounded throughout these operations was very inconsiderable.

Sir Hugh Rose inferred, from the evidences presented to his notice, that the rebels had considered Calpee an arsenal and a point of great importance. Fifteen guns were kept in the fort, of which one was an 18-pounder of the Gwalior Contingent, and two others 9-pounder mortars made by the rebels. Twenty-four standards were found, one of which had belonged to the Kotah Contingent, while most of the rest were the colours of the several regiments of the Gwalior Contingent. A subterranean magazine was found to contain ten thousand pounds of English powder in barrels, nine thousand pounds of shot and empty shells, a quantity of eight-inch filled shrapnell-shells, siege and ball ammunition, intrenching tools of all kinds, tents new and old, boxes of new flint and percussion muskets, and ordnance stores of all kinds—worth several lacs of rupees. There were also three or four cannon foundries in the town, with all the requisites for a wheel and gun-carriage manufactory. In short, it was an arsenal, which the rebels hoped and intended to hold to the last; but Sir Hugh’s victory at Gulowlie, and his appearance at Calpee, gave them a complete panic: they thought more of flight than of fighting.

The question speedily arose, however—Whither had the rebels gone? Their losses were very large, but the bulk of the force had unquestionably escaped. Some, it was found, had crossed the Jumna into the Doab, by a bridge of boats which had eluded the search of the British; but the rest, enough to form an army of no mean strength, finding that Rose had not fully guarded the side of Calpee leading to Gwalior, retreated by that road with amazing celerity. Sir Hugh thereupon organised a flying column to pursue them, under the command of Colonel Robertson. This column did not effect much, owing in part to the proverbial celerity of the rebels, and in part also to difficulties of other kinds. Heavy rains on the first two days rendered the roads almost impassable, greatly retarding the progress of the column. The enemy attempted to make a stand at Mahona and Indoorkee, two places on the road; but when they heard of the approach of Robertson, they continued their retreat in the direction of Gwalior. The column reached Irawan on the 29th; and there a brief halt was made until commissariat supplies could be sent up from Calpee. An officer belonging to the column adverted, in a private letter, to certain symptoms that the villagers were becoming tired of the anarchy into which their country had been thrown. ‘The feeling of the country is strong against the rebels now, whatever it may have been; and the rural population has welcomed our advent in the most unmistakable manner. At the different villages as we go along, many of them come out and meet us with earthen vessels full of water, knowing it to be our greatest want in such weather; and at our camping-ground they furnish us voluntarily with supplies of grain, grass, &c., in the most liberal manner. They declare the rebels plundered them right and left, and that they are delighted to have the English raj once more. It is not only the inhabitants of the towns and villages where we encamp who are so anxious to evince their good feeling; but the people, for miles round, have been coming to make their salaam, bringing forage for our camp with them, and thanking us for having delivered them from their oppressors. They say that for a year they have had no peace; but they have now a hope that order will be once more restored.’ Concerning this statement it may suffice to remark, that though the villagers were unquestionably in worse plight under the rebels than under the British, their obsequious protestations to that effect were not always to be depended on; their fears gave them duplicity, inducing them to curry favour with whichever side happened at the moment to be greatest in power.

Colonel Robertson, though he inflicted some loss on the fugitives, did not materially check them. His column—comprising the 25th Bombay native infantry, the 3d Bombay native cavalry, and 150 Hyderabad horse—pursued the rebels on the Gwalior road, but did not come up with the main body. On the 2d of June he was joined by two squadrons of the 14th dragoons, a wing of the 86th foot, and four 9-pounders. On the next day, when at Moharar, about midway between Calpee and Gwalior (fifty-five miles from each) he heard news of startling import from the last-named city—presently to be noticed. About the same time Brigadier Steuart marched to Attakona on the Gwalior road, with H.M. 71st, a wing of the 86th, a squadron of the 14th Dragoons, and some guns, to aid in the pursuit of the rebels.

While these events were in progress on the south of the Jumna, Colonel Riddell was advancing from the northwest on the north side of the same river. On the 16th of May, Riddell was at Graya, with the 3d Bengal Europeans, Alexander’s Horse, and two guns; he had a smart skirmish with a party of rebels, who received a very severe defeat. Some of the Etawah troops floated down the Jumna in boats, under the charge of Mr Hume, a magistrate, and safely joined Sir Hugh at Calpee. On their way they were attacked by a body of insurgents much more numerous than themselves; whereupon Lieutenant Sheriff landed with a hundred and fifty men at Bhijulpore, brought the rebels to an engagement, defeated them, drove them off, and captured four guns with a large store of ammunition. On the 25th, when on the banks of the Jumna some distance above Calpee, Colonel Riddell saw a camp of rebels on the other side, evidently resting a while after their escape on the 23d; he sent the 2d Bengal Europeans across, and captured much of the camp-equipage—the enemy not waiting to contest the matter with him.

When Calpee had been securely taken, and flying columns had gone off in pursuit of the enemy, to disperse if not to capture, Sir Hugh Rose conceived that the arduous labours of his Central India Field-force were for a time ended, and that his exhausted troops might take rest. He issued to them a glowing address, adverting with commendable pride to the unswerving gallantry which they had so long exhibited: ‘Soldiers! you have marched more than a thousand miles, and taken more than a hundred guns. You have forced your way through mountain-passes and intricate jungles, and over rivers. You have captured the strongest forts, and beaten the enemy, no matter what the odds, whenever you met him. You have restored extensive districts to the government, and peace and order now where before for a twelvemonth were tyranny and rebellion. You have done all this, and you never had a check. I thank you with all sincerity for your bravery, your devotion, and your discipline. When you first marched, I told you that you, as British soldiers, had more than enough of courage for the work which was before you, but that courage without discipline was of no avail; and I exhorted you to let discipline be your watchword. You have attended to my orders. In hardships, in temptations and danger, you have obeyed your general, and you have never left your ranks; you have fought against the strong, and you have protected the rights of the weak and defenceless, of foes as well as of friends. I have seen you in the ardour of the combat preserve and place children out of harm’s way. This is the discipline of Christian soldiers, and it is what has brought you triumphant from the shores of Western India to the waters of the Jumna, and establishes without doubt that you will find no place to equal the glory of your arms.’

Little did the gallant Sir Hugh suspect that the very day on which he issued this hearty and well-merited address (the 1st of June) would be marked by the capture of Gwalior by the defeated Calpee rebels, the flight of Scindia to Agra, and the necessity for an immediate resumption of active operations by his unrested Central India Field-force.

The rebels, it afterwards appeared, having out-marched Colonel Robertson, arrived on the 30th of May at the Moorar cantonment, in the neighbourhood of Gwalior, the old quarters of the Gwalior Contingent. Tanteea Topee, a leader whose activity was worthy of a better cause, had preceded them, to tamper with Scindia’s troops. The Maharajah, when he heard news of the rebels’ approach, sent an urgent message to Agra for aid; but before aid could reach him, matters had arrived at a crisis.

The position of the Maharajah of Gwalior had all along been a remarkable and perilous one, calling for the exercise of an amount of sagacity and prudence rarely exhibited by so youthful a prince. Although only twenty-three years of age, he had been for five years Maharajah in his own right, after shaking off a regency that had inflicted much misery on his country; and during these five years his conduct had won the respect of the British authorities. The mutiny placed him in an embarrassing position. The Gwalior Contingent, kept up by him in accordance with a treaty with the Company, consisted mainly of Hindustanis and Oudians, strongly in sympathy with their compatriots in the Jumna and Ganges regions. His own independent army, it is true, consisted chiefly of Mahrattas, a Hindoo race having little in common with the Hindustanis; but he could not feel certain how long either of the two armies would remain faithful. After many doubtful symptoms, in July 1857, as we have seen in former chapters, the Gwalior Contingent went over in a body to the enemy—thus adding ten or twelve thousand disciplined and well-armed troops to the rebel cause. Scindia contrived for two or three months to remain on neutral terms with the Contingent—on the one hand, not sanctioning their proceedings: on the other, not bringing down their enmity upon himself. During the winter they were engaged in encounters at various places, which have been duly noticed in the proper chapters. When Sir Hugh Rose’s name had become as much known and feared in Central India as Havelock’s had been in the Northwest Provinces many months before, the rebels began to look to Gwalior, the strongest city in that part of India, as a possible place of permanent refuge; and many of the Mahratta and Rajpoot chieftains appear to have come to an agreement, that if Scindia would not join them against the British, they would attack him, dethrone him, and set up another Maharajah in his stead. Meanwhile the Gwalior prince, a brave and shrewd man, as well as a faithful ally, looked narrowly at the circumstances that surrounded him. He had some cause to suspect his own national or regular army, but deemed it best to conceal his suspicions. There was every cause for apprehension, therefore, on his part, when he found a large body of insurgent troops approaching his capital—especially as some of the regiments of the old Gwalior Contingent were among the number.

Although aid from Agra or Calpee had not arrived, Scindia had courage and skill enough to make a bold stand against them, if his own troops had proved faithful; but treachery effected that which fair fighting might not easily have done. Scindia’s body-guard remained faithful. Such was not, however, the case with the bulk of his infantry, who had been tampered with by Tanteea Topee, and had agreed to desert their sovereign in his hour of greatest need. This was doubtless the motive of the rebel leader in preceding the march of the Calpee fugitives. When the struggle began, Scindia’s force comprised two or three thousand cavalry, six thousand infantry, and eight guns; that of the enemy consisted of four thousand cavalry, seven thousand infantry, and twelve guns—no overwhelming disparity, if Scindia’s own troops had been true. The rebels did not want for leaders; seeing that they had the Ranee of Jhansi, the Nawab of Banda, Tanteea Topee, Rao Sahib, Ram Rao Gobind, and Luchmun Nena. Rao Sahib, nephew of the Nena, was the nominal leader of the Mahrattas in this motley force; but Tanteea Topee was really the man of action and power. Certainly the most remarkable among the number was the Ranee of Jhansi, a woman who—but for her cruelty to the English at that station—would command something like respect. Whether she had been unjustly treated by the Company, in relation to the ‘annexations’ in former years, was one among many questions of a similar kind on which opinions were divided; but supposing her to be sincere in a belief that territory had been wrongly taken from her, then did her conduct (barring her cruelty and her unbounded licentiousness) bear something like the stamp of heroism. At anyrate, she proved herself a very Amazon in these warlike contests—riding like a man, bearing arms like a man, leading and fighting like a man, and exhorting her troops to contend to the last against the hated Feringhees.

The battle between the Maharajah and the insurgents was of brief duration. The enemy, at about seven o’clock on the morning of the 1st of June, made their appearance in battle-array. Scindia took up a position about two miles eastward of the Moorar cantonment; placing his troops in three divisions, of which the centre was commanded by him in person. The rebels pushed on a cloud of mounted skirmishers, with zumborucks or camel-guns; these were steadily confronted by Scindia’s centre division. But now did the treachery appear. It is not quite clear whether the right and left divisions of his force remained idle during the fighting of the centre division, waited for the capture of guns as a signal for revolt, marched over to the opposite side, and began to fire on such of their astonished companions as still remained true to Scindia; or whether the left division went over at the commencement of the fighting, and was followed soon after by the right; but at anyrate the centre, comprising the body-guard with some other troops, could not long contend against such immense odds. The body-guard fought manfully until half their number had fallen, and the rest fled. Scindia himself, too, powerless against such numerous opponents, sought safety in flight, and fortunately found it. Attended by a few faithful troops, the Maharajah galloped off by way of the Saugor Tal, the Residency, and the Phool Bagh, avoiding the Lashkar or permanent camp of his (late) army; he then took to the open country, by the Dholpore road, and reached Agra two days afterwards. The rebels sent a troop of cavalry sixteen or eighteen miles in pursuit, but he happily kept ahead of them. Most of the members of his family fled to Seepree, while his courtiers were scattered in all directions.

Directly the Maharajah had thus been driven out of his capital, the rebels entered Gwalior, and endeavoured to form a regular government. They chose Nena Sahib as ‘Peishwa,’ or head of all the Mahratta princes. They next set up Rao Sahib, the Nena’s nephew, as chief of Gwalior. These selections appear to have been assented to by Scindia’s traitorous troops as well as by the other rebels. All the troops were to have a certain number of months’ pay for their services in this achievement. The army was nevertheless the great difficulty to be contended against by the rebel leaders. The insurgents from Calpee, and the newly revolted troops of Scindia, had worked together for a common object in this instance; but there was jealousy between them; and nothing could make them continue together without the liberal distribution of money—partly as arrears of pay, partly as an advance. Ram Rao Gobind, who had long before been discharged from Scindia’s service for dishonesty, became prime-minister. The main bulk of the army, under the masculine Ranee of Jhansi, remained encamped in a garden called the Phool Bagh, outside the city; while pickets and guns were sent to guard all the roads of approach. The property of the principal inhabitants was sequestered, in real or pretended punishment for friendliness towards the Maharajah and the British. Scindia possessed an immense treasure in his palace, which he could not take away in his flight; this the rebels seized, by the connivance of the truculent treasurer, Ameerchand Batya; and it was out of this treasure they were enabled to reward the troops. They also declared a formal confiscation of all the royal property. Four petty Mahratta chieftains in the district of Shakerwarree—named Kunughat, Gholab Singh, Dooghur Shah, and Bukhtawar Singh—had some time previously declared themselves independent, and had been captured and imprisoned by Scindia for so doing; these men were now set at liberty by the newly constituted authorities, and received insignia and dresses of honour, on condition of raising forces in their several localities to oppose any British troops who might attempt to cross the Chumbul and approach Gwalior. The leaders mustered and reviewed their troops, plundered and burnt the civil station, and liberated such prisoners as they thought might be useful to them. They also sent letters of invitation to the Rajahs of Banpore, Shagurh, &c., to join them.

Thus did a body of rebels, collected from different quarters, and actuated by different motives, expel the Maharajah Scindia from the throne of Gwalior, and install a government avowedly and bitterly hostile to him and to the British with whom he was in alliance. Throughout twelve months’ events at Gwalior, the more experienced of the Company’s officers frequently directed their attention to a certain member of Scindia’s family, in doubt whether treachery might have been exhibited in that quarter. This was a princess, advanced in life, whose influence at Gwalior was known to be considerable, and whose experience of the checkered politics of Indian princedoms had extended over a very lengthened period. She was known as the Baeza Baee of Gwalior. Sixty years before the mutiny began, she was the beauty of the Deccan, the young bride of the victorious Dowlut Rao Scindia of 1797; and she lived through all the vicissitudes of those sixty years. During thirty years of married life she exercised great influence over her husband and the court of Gwalior, exhibiting more energy of purpose than is wont among eastern women. In 1827 Scindia died without a legitimate son; and the widow, in accordance with Indian custom, adopted a kinsman of the late Maharajah to be the new Scindia. The Baeza Baee as regent, and Moodkee Rao as expectant rajah, had many quarrels during the next seven years: these ended, in 1834, in the installation of the young man as rajah, and in the retirement of the widowed princess to Dholpore. Tumults continued; for the princess was considered the more skilful ruler of the two, and many of the Mahrattas of Gwalior wished her to continue as regent. Whether from justice, or from motives of cold policy, the British government sided with Scindia against the Baeza Baee; and she was ordered to take up her abode in some district beyond the limits of the Gwalior territory. In 1843, when Moodkee Rao Scindia died, this territory came more closely than before under British influence; a new Scindia was chosen, with the consent of the governor-general, from among the relations of the deceased Maharajah; and with this new Scindia the aged Baeza Baee appears to have resided until the time of the mutiny. Nothing unfavourable was known against this venerable lady; but when it was considered that she was a woman of great energy, and that many other native princesses of great energy—such as the Ranee of Jhansi and the Begum of Oude—had thrown their influence in the scale against the English, it was deemed proper to watch her movements. And this the more especially, as she had some cause to complain of the English policy in the Mahratta dominions in past years. Although watched, however, nothing appeared to justify suspicion of her complicity with the rebels.

Great was the anxiety at all the British stations when the news arrived that Gwalior, the strongest and most important city in Central India, and the capital of a native sovereign uniformly true to the British alliance, had fallen into the hands of the rebels. In many minds a desponding feeling was at once manifest; while those who did not despond freely acknowledged that the situation was a critical one, calling for the exercise of promptness, skill, and courage. All felt that the conqueror of Jhansi and Calpee was the fit man to undertake the reconquest of Gwalior, both from his military fame and from the circumstances of his position—having around him many columns and corps which he could bring to one centre. It was in the true spirit of heroism that Sir Hugh Rose laid aside all thoughts of self when the exigencies of the service called for his attention. He had won a complete victory at Calpee, and believed that in so doing he had crushed the rebels in Bundelcund and Scindia’s territory. Then, and then only, did he think of himself—of his exhausted frame, his mind worn by six months of unremitting duty, his brain fevered by repeated attacks of sun-stroke in the fearful heat of that climate. He knew that he had honestly done his part, and that he might with the consent of every one claim an exemption for a time from active service. He intended to go down to Bombay on sick-certificate—after having sent off a column in pursuit of the fleeing rebels, and made arrangements for his successor. Such were Sir Hugh’s thoughts when June opened. The startling news from Gwalior, however, overturned all his plans. When he found that Scindia’s capital was in the hands of the insurgents whom he had so recently beaten at Calpee, all thoughts concerning fatigue and heat, anxiety and sickness, were promptly dismissed from his mind. He determined to finish the work he had begun, by reconquering the great Mahratta city. No time was to be lost. Every day that Gwalior remained in the hands of the rebels would weaken the British prestige, and add strength to the audacity of the rebels.

Sir Hugh’s first measure was to request the presence of General Whitlock at Calpee, to hold that place safely during the operations further westward. Whitlock was at Moudha, between Banda and Humeerpoor, when he heard the news; he at once advanced towards Calpee by the ford of the Betwah at Humeerpoor. Rose’s next step was to organise two brigades for rapid march to Gwalior. Of those brigades the infantry consisted of H.M. 86th foot, a wing of the 71st Highlanders, a wing of the 3d Bombay Europeans, the 24th and 25th Bombay native infantry, and the 5th Hyderabad infantry; the cavalry comprised wings of the 4th and 14th Dragoons, the 3d Hyderabad cavalry, and a portion of the 3d Bombay native cavalry; the artillery and engineers consisted of a company of the Royal Engineers, Bombay Sappers and Miners, Madras Sappers and Miners, two light field-batteries, Leslie’s troop of Bombay horse-artillery, and a siege-train consisting of two 16-pounders, three 18-pounders, eight 8-inch mortars, two 10-inch mortars, and one 8-inch howitzer. The first of these two brigades was placed under the command of Brigadier C. S. Stuart, of the Bombay army; the second under Brigadier R. Napier, of the Bengal Engineers. Arrangements were made for the co-operation of a third brigade from Seepree, under Brigadier Smith. Orders were at the same time given for bringing up Major Orr’s column from the south, and for joining it with Smith’s brigade somewhere on the road to Gwalior; Colonel Maxwell, with the 5th Fusiliers and the 88th foot, was invited to advance from Cawnpore to Calpee; while Colonel Riddell was instructed to cross the Chumbul with his Etawah column. Rose did not know what might be the number of insurgents against whom he would have to contend when he reached Gwalior, and on that account he called in reinforcements from various quarters.

Pushing on his two main brigades as rapidly as possible, Sir Hugh appeared in the vicinity of Gwalior on the ninth day after leaving Calpee—allowing his troops no more rest by the way than was absolutely needed. On the evening of the 15th of June he was at Sepowlie, about ten miles from the Moorar cantonment; and by six o’clock on the following morning he reached the cantonment itself. Sir Hugh galloped forward with his staff to a point about midway between the cantonment and the city; and there began to reconnoitre the position taken up by the enemy. Gwalior is very remarkable as a military position, owing to the relation which the city bears to a strong and lofty hill-fort. ‘The rock on which the hill-fort is situated,’ says Mr Thornton, ‘is completely isolated; though seven hundred yards to the north is a conical hill surmounted by a very remarkable building of stone; and on the southeast, south, and southwest, are similar hills, which form a sort of amphitheatre at the distance of from one to four miles. The sandstone of the hill-fort is arranged in horizontal strata, and its face presents so steep a fracture as to form a perpendicular precipice. Where the rock was naturally less precipitous, it has been so scarped as to be rendered perpendicular; and in some places the upper part considerably overhangs the lower. The greatest length of the rock, which is from northeast to southwest, is a mile and a half; the greatest breadth three hundred yards. The height at the south end, where it is greatest, is 342 feet. On the eastern face of the rock, several colossal figures are sculptured in bold relief. A rampart runs round the edge of the rock, conforming to the outline of its summit; and as its height is uniform above the verge, its top has an irregular appearance. The entrance within the enclosure of the rampart is towards the north end of the east side; first, by means of a steep road, and higher up by steps cut in the face of the rock, of such a size and of so moderate a degree of acclivity that elephants easily make their way up. This huge staircase is protected on the outer side by a high and massive stone-wall, and is swept by several traversing guns pointing down it: the passage up to the interior being through a succession of seven gates. The citadel is at the northeastern extremity of the enclosure, and has a very striking appearance. Adjoining is a series of six lofty round towers or bastions, connected by curtains of great height and thickness. There are within the enclosure of the rampart several spacious tanks, capable of supplying an adequate garrison; though fifteen thousand men would be required fully to man the defences.’ The town of Gwalior, it may suffice to state, was situated along the eastern base of the rock. The Lashkar, or permanent camp of the Maharajah, stretch out from the southwest end of the rock; whereas the Moorar, or cantonment of the old Gwalior Contingent, was on the opposite side of the town.

Such was the place which Sir Hugh Rose found it necessary to reconnoitre, preparatory to a siege. The hill-fort, the Lashkar, the Moorar, the city, and the semicircular belt of hills, all needed examination, sufficient at least to determine at what points the rebel army was distributed, and what defences had been thrown up. He found that only a few troops were in the city itself, the main body being placed in groups on and near the surrounding hills and cantonments. Rumour assigned to the rebels a force of seventeen thousand men in arms; but the means for testing the truth of this rumour were wanting.

The examination made by Rose led him to a determination to attack the Moorar cantonment suddenly, before the other portions of the rebels could arrive from the more distant stations—to adopt, in fact, the Napoleon tactics, possible only when rapid movements are made. Brigadier Smith was operating on the hills south of the town, as we shall presently see; but Rose carried out his own portion of the attack independently. Orders were at once given. The cavalry and guns were placed on each flank; while the infantry, in two divisions, prepared to advance. The 86th headed the attack, as part of the second brigade. No sooner did the enemy find themselves attacked, than they poured out a well-directed fire of musketry and field-guns; but this was speedily silenced, and the rebels forced to make a precipitate retreat. Many of them escaped into the city over a stone-bridge, the existence of which was not correctly known to Sir Hugh. Four pieces of ordnance were at the same time dragged over the bridge to the Lashkar camp—somewhat to the vexation of the British, who wished to seize them: the capture, however, was not long delayed. The main body of rebels, after being driven through the whole length of the cantonment, were chased over a wide expanse of country. Some terrible fighting occurred during this chase. At one spot a number of the enemy had been driven into a fortified trench around a village, and here they maintained a desperate hand-to-hand struggle, until the trench was nearly choked with dead and wounded bodies. It was while rushing on at the head of a company of the 71st Highlanders in this contest that Lieutenant Neave fell, mortally wounded. The rebels engaged in this struggle included several men of the Maharajah’s 1st regiment. A strong body of the enemy’s cavalry were drawn up about half a mile from the bridge; but they did not venture forth; and Sir Hugh encamped for the night in the Moorar cantonment.

This, then, was the first scene in the conquest. Sir Hugh had obtained safe possession of the cantonment of Moorar, and had conquered and expelled such of the insurgents as had taken up a position there. Nevertheless this was only a preliminary measure; for the city and the rock-fort were still in the hands of the enemy. Either through want of means or want of foresight, the rebels had done little to strengthen this fort; or, perchance, reposing on the Indian idea that that famous fortress was impregnable, they deemed such a precaution unnecessary. Instead of attending to that duty, they disposed their forces so as to guard the roads of approach from Indoorkee, Seepree, and other places; and it was in this field-service that the mail-clad Amazon, the Ranee of Jhansi, engaged.

We must now trace the progress of Brigadier Smith, who had taken charge of the operations from the south, and who would need to obtain command of the hills southward of the city before he could reach Gwalior itself. This active officer had to make a long march before he could reach the scene of conflict. His column—comprising a wing of the 8th Hussars, a wing of the Bombay Lancers, H.M. 95th foot, the 10th Native Bombay infantry, and a troop of Bombay horse-artillery—started from Seepree, and was joined, on the 15th of June, at Antree, by Major Orr with his men of the Hyderabad Contingent. Setting out from that place, the brigadier, thus reinforced, arrived on the 17th at Kotah-ke-serai, a place about eight miles from Gwalior, on the little river Oomrah. Here was a small square fort, and also a native travellers’ bungalow (implied by the words ke-serai). As he approached this place, the brigadier could see masses of the enemy’s cavalry and infantry in motion at the base of some neighbouring hills—some of those already adverted to as forming a semicircular belt around the southern half of Gwalior. These hills it was necessary for him to cross to get to the Lashkar camping-ground. Two companies of infantry, belonging to the 10th and 95th regiments, were thrown across the river as skirmishers, with a squadron of Hussars as videttes; while the rest of his column remained south of the river, to guard the ford and the fort. After a little skirmishing, some of his cavalry crossed the river, and came under the fire of a battery until then unperceived. Much sharp fighting ensued: the enemy having been permitted to retain their hold of the hills on one side of the river, in consequence of a movement made by Smith under false information. The road from Jhansi to Gwalior crosses the hills that lie southward of the Lashkar; and, before debouching from these hills, it runs for several hundred yards through a defile along which a canal had been excavated; the eastern embankment of this canal, twenty or twenty-five feet in height, supplied an excellent cover for Smith’s troops during their advance. It was while his column was thus marching through the defile, defended by three or four guns on a neighbouring hill, that the principal part of the day’s fighting took place. When night came, Smith had secured the defile, the road, and the adjoining hills; while the enemy occupied the hills on the other side of the canal. The most distinguished person who fell in this day’s fighting was the Ranee of Jhansi—an Amazon to the last. The account given of her death is simply as follows: ‘The Ranee, in trying to escape over the canal which separated the camp from the Phool Bagh parade, fell with her horse, and was cut down by a Hussar; she still endeavoured to get over, when a bullet struck her in the breast, and she fell to rise no more.’ The natives are said to have hastily burned her dead body, to save it from apprehended desecration by the Feringhees. During the night between the 17th and 18th, the enemy constructed a battery on one of their hills, from which they poured forth a well-directed fire, lessened in serious results by the greatness of the distance. It was not without much difficulty and constant firing that the brigadier, during the 18th, became master of the hills, and drove away the enemy, who were led with much energy by Tanteea Topee.

Gwalior.

While Brigadier Smith was thus closely engaged on the southern hills, Sir Hugh Rose contented himself with maintaining his won position at the Moorar cantonment; he could not safely advance into the city until Smith had achieved his portion of the work. On the 18th, when the brigadier had surmounted some of the southern hills, Sir Hugh, seeing that the enemy’s strong positions were on that side of the city, joined him by a flank-movement of twelve miles—leaving only a sufficient number of troops to guard his camp at the Moorar. Rose bivouacked for the night in rear of Smith’s position, thus enabling both to act together on the morrow. The enemy still occupied some of the heights nearest to the city; and from these heights, as well as from the rock-fort, on the 19th, they poured out a fire of shot, shell, and shrapnell. Rose, after narrowly examining the chief of the heights occupied by the enemy, resolve to capture it by storm. Two of the choice infantry regiments sent on in advance, ascended this height—the 71st on the right, the 86th on the left; other regiments supported them; while the artillery was plied wherever the most effective result could be produced. The scheme required that some of the guns should be taken across the canal, in order to form a battery on one of the hills; and the sappers executed this difficult work under a hot fire. The struggle was not a long one; the infantry ran intrepidly up to the enemy’s guns, and captured them. The height was now gained; and large masses of the enemy came full in view in the plain below. The rebels, losing heart at their failures, became panic-stricken when the height was taken; they began to flee in all directions. Then was the time for Rose’s cavalry to render useful service; the troopers scoured the plain in all directions, cutting off the wretched fugitives in large numbers. By four o’clock in the day, Rose was master of Gwalior, to the inexpressible astonishment of the enemy. There was scarcely any fighting in the city itself, or in the Lashkar camp; nor was there much firing from the rock-fort; when the heights were gained, the rebels gave way on all sides. While Brigadier Smith advanced with cavalry and artillery to occupy the plain of the Phool Bagh, Sir Hugh pushed on to the palace. Very little opposition was encountered; few of the enemy being met with either there or at the Lashkar. After providing for the safety of the palace, by posting Europeans and Bombay infantry at the entrances, Sir Hugh made arrangements for the security of the city. This he found comparatively easy; for the regular inhabitants of the place had good reason to wish for the suppression of the rebels, and gladly aided the conquerors in restoring order.

The Ranee of Jhansi.

Thus, on the night of the 19th, Sir Hugh Rose was virtually conqueror, though not thoroughly. The seizure of palace, city, and cantonments did not necessarily imply the seizure of the rock-fort, the bold fortress which for ages has rendered Gwalior so famous in India. In point of fact, the conquest of this fort was deferred until the 20th; Sir Hugh looked upon it as an easy achievement, because it became known that only a few natives remained within the place. The conquest was not effected without causing the death of a gallant officer—Lieutenant Arthur Rose, of the 25th Bombay native infantry. As soon as the city had fallen into the hands of the besiegers, the lieutenant was sent by the commanding-officer of his regiment to guard the Kotwallee or police-station. A shot or two being unexpectedly fired from the fort, Rose proposed to a brother-officer, Lieutenant Waller, the daring project of capturing it with the handful of men at their joint disposal—urging that, though the risk would be great, the honour would be proportionally great if the attempt succeeded. Off they started, taking with them a blacksmith. This man, with his lusty arm and his heavy hammer, broke in the outermost or lowermost of the many gates that guarded the ascent of the rock on which the fort was situated; then another, and another, until all the six gates were broken into, and entered by the little band of assailants. It is hardly to be expected, that if the gates were really strong and securely fastened, they could have been burst open in this way; but the confusion resulting from the fighting had probably caused some of the defensive arrangements to be neglected. At various points on the ascent the assailants were fired at by the few rebels in the place; and near the top a desperate hand-to-hand conflict took place, during which the numbers were thinned on both sides. While Rose was encouraging his men in their hot work, a musket was fired at him from behind a wall; and the bullet, striking him on the right of the spine, passed through his body. The man who had fired the fatal shot, a Bareilly mutineer, then rushed out, and cut him across the knee and the wrist with a sword. Waller came up, and despatched this fellow, but too late to save the life of his poor friend Rose.[[176]]

Several days before the conquest of Gwalior was finally completed, arrangements were made for reinstating Scindia upon the throne from which he had been so suddenly and unexpectedly hurled. Irrespective of the justice of Scindia’s cause, Sir Robert Hamilton and Sir Hugh Rose wished him to return at once from Agra to Gwalior for another reason—to enable the British to judge who among the townsmen deserved punishment, and who were worthy of forgiveness. It was also very important to shew that the government meant promptly and firmly to support so faithful a man, as an encouragement to other native princes to maintain faith with the British. Even before Rose had reached Gwalior, and when the result of the approaching battle could not in any degree be foreseen, Hamilton, as political resident at the court of Gwalior, sent a dispatch to Scindia at Agra, requesting him to move down at once to the Chumbul, that he might be in readiness to present himself at Gwalior whenever the proper time should arrive. Accordingly the temporarily dethroned Maharajah set out from Agra on the 13th of June with all his retinue, escorted by a party of Meade’s Horse, and by some of his own troopers who still remained faithful. He reached Dholpore on the 15th, where he joined Colonel Riddell’s column. On the next he faintly heard the roar of cannon at his capital, thirty-seven miles distant; and in the evening an express arrived from Sir Robert Hamilton, announcing the capture of the cantonment—the first stage towards the capture of Gwalior itself. Crossing the Chumbul, and mounting his horse, Scindia galloped off, and rode all night, reaching Gwalior on the 17th. During the next three days, the presence and advice of the Maharajah were very valuable to the British authorities, contributing much towards the final conquest. On the 20th, when all the fighting was well-nigh over, Scindia was restored to his throne with as much oriental pomp as could be commanded in the limited time: Rose, Hamilton, and all the chief military and civil officers, accompanying him in procession from the camp to the palace. It was a good augury that the townsmen, who lined all the streets, seemed right glad to have him back again amongst them.

When Gwalior was fairly cleared of rebels, and Scindia reinstated as Maharajah, two official congratulatory documents were issued, one by Sir Colin Campbell, and the other by Viscount Canning—somewhat differing in character, but tending to the same end. Sir Colin congratulated Sir Hugh Rose on the successful result of his rapid advance upon Gwalior, and the restoration of Scindia. He adverted to these as a happy termination of Rose’s brilliant campaign in Central India—a campaign illustrated by many engagements in the open field; by the relief of Saugor; by the capture of Ratgurh, Shagurh, and Chendaree; by the memorable siege of Jhansi; by the fall of Calpee; and lastly, by the re-occupation of Gwalior. While thanking Rose and his troops heartily for their glorious deeds, Sir Colin did not fail to notice two other generals who had shared in the hot work of those regions. ‘It must not be forgotten that the advance of the Central India Field-force formed part of a large combination, and was rendered possible by the movement of Major-general Roberts, of the Bombay army, into Rajpootana, on the one side; and of Major-general Whitlock, of the Madras army, on the other; and by the support they respectively gave to Major-general Sir Hugh Rose as he moved onwards in obedience to his instructions.’ Viscount Canning’s proclamation was more formal, and was intended to meet the eye of Scindia quite as much as those of the gallant troops who had just reinstated him; it had a political object, to encourage native princes in a course of fidelity, by shewing that the British government would aid in maintaining them on their thrones, just in proportion to their good faith.[[177]]

The British had reconquered every part of the city and neighbourhood of Gwalior, reinstated Scindia on his throne, wrought terrible execution on the insurgents, and compelled the main body to seek safety in flight. But the questions then arose, in this as in all previous instances—to what quarter had the fugitives retreated, and what amount of mischief might they produce during and in consequence of their retreat? It was soon ascertained that, while others had chosen a different route, the main body had taken the road to Kurowlee. Hence it became an object with Sir Hugh to send off a force in pursuit, in the hope of so completely cutting up the fugitives as to prevent them from reassembling as an organised army at any other spot. He invited the co-operation of Brigadier Showers from another quarter, but depended chiefly on the exertions of a flying column hastily made up, and placed under the command of Brigadier Napier. On the 20th, within a few hours after the capture of Gwalior, Napier set forth; and the next few days were marked by deeds of gallantry worthy of the name he bore. The column consisted of a troop of horse-artillery, a troop of the 14th Dragoons, a wing of the Hyderabad Contingent cavalry, and three troops of Meade’s Horse—altogether about six hundred men, with six guns. Starting from the Moorar cantonment, and passing from the Residency into the open country, Napier reached Sunnowlie, twenty-four miles from Gwalior, by three o’clock the next morning. On approaching Jowra Alipore, a few hours afterwards, he descried the enemy in great force, with nearly thirty guns. Not waiting to consider how small his numbers were compared with those opposed to him, Napier resolved to grapple with the enemy. He moved his column to the cover of a rising-ground which afforded partial concealment; and finding the rebels disposed to move off, he at once attacked them, with a chivalrous daring worthy of all praise. The column galloped off to the right, towards the enemy’s guns, of which nine were grouped in and around a small tope of trees. Captain Lightfoot’s horse-artillery galloped up to the front, poured in two rounds of shot at a distance of five hundred yards, limbered up, and dashed off to the enemy’s guns, even outstripping the supporting cavalry; these guns, being found deserted by the enemy, were at once captured. Of fighting, there was really little in amount. The enemy, supposed to be at least ten times as numerous as Napier’s troops, and supplied with formidable artillery, scarcely made a stand at any point; the necessity for flight from Gwalior had produced a sort of panic, and they made but little resistance to Napier. They ran off in various directions, but chiefly towards the south. Their haste was too great, and the pursuit too prompt, to enable them to save any of their guns; Napier seized them all, twenty-five in number, together with numerous stands of arms. Great as was this achievement, however, considering the relative forces of the belligerents, the result was hardly satisfactory in a political point of view. The hope was not merely to recover Gwalior, but to crush the rebel forces. Gwalior, it is true, was taken, and artillery in much strength was captured; still the main body of the rebels escaped from Rose at Gwalior on the 19th, and the same main body escaped from Napier at Jowra Alipore on the 21st. Although they had few or no guns, they fled as an army and not as a rabble; they retained that sort of military organisation which might enable them to work mischief elsewhere. Napier, wishing to prevent this as far as possible, pursued them some distance; but as the rebels were wonderfully quick in their movements, they gradually increased the distance between them and their pursuer, until at length Napier was thirty miles behind. He then gave up a pursuit which was likely to be fruitless, and returned to Gwalior with the guns he had captured. It was afterwards made a subject for question whether Rose should not have placed a greater force of light cavalry at Napier’s disposal; but there appears much probability that, when once in flight, the rebels would have succeeded in escaping, in this as in all similar instances. They had attained great mastery in the art of fleeing.

Who was the leader of the body of rebels adverted to in the preceding paragraph was not clearly known; perhaps there was no recognised leader in the hasty flight. Another body, however, estimated at five or six thousand in number, followed the orders of the indefatigable Tanteea Topee; he led them across the Chumbul, past Shree Muttra and Hindoun, and made towards Jeypoor—the chief city of the principal among the Rajpoot states. So far as could be ascertained, he hoped to obtain the assistance of insurgent chieftains in that region. He carried with him the crown-jewels, and an immense amount of treasure, that had belonged to Scindia. There was a possibility that Tanteea Topee, by bending a little to the north, would advance to Bhurtpore instead of Jeypoor. The population of Bhurtpore was warlike, and Tanteea Topee could not enter within the earthen walls if opposed; but it was impossible at that time to rely on any body of Rajpoot troops; and hence the British authorities watched with some anxiety the progress of the rebel leader.

When, a few weeks earlier, Sir Hugh Rose had thanked his gallant troops after the capture of Calpee, he hoped to be able to retire to Bombay, to recruit his shattered health after so much active service in hot weather. This hope was founded on what appeared to be rational grounds. The last stronghold of the enemy had fallen into his hands, with its guns, ammunition, and stores. Detached posts, it is true, might require to be carefully guarded; isolated bodies of rebels might need pursuit and punishment; but there did not appear to be any enterprise of such magnitude and importance as to demand the combined services of the different regiments in the Central India Field-force. Therefore it was that, almost immediately after the fall of Calpee, Sir Hugh issued the glowing address to his troops, already adverted to. His hope of retirement, however, was for a time frustrated by the defeat of Scindia by the rebels; but when he had retaken Gwalior, and reinstated the Maharajah upon the throne, Sir Hugh found himself enabled to fulfil his wish. Towards the close of June he issued another address to his troops, in which he said: ‘The major-general commanding being on the point of resigning the command of the Poonah division of the Bombay army,[[178]] on account of ill health, bids farewell to the Central India Field-force; and at the same time expresses the pleasure he feels that he commanded them when they gained one more laurel at Gwalior. The major-general witnessed with satisfaction how the troops and their gallant comrades in arms—the Rajpootana brigade, under General Smith—stormed height after height, and gun after gun, under the fire of a numerous field and siege artillery, taking finally by assault two 18-pounders at Gwalior. Not a man in these forces enjoyed his natural strength or health; and an Indian sun, and months of marching and broken rest, had told on the strongest; but the moment they were told to take Gwalior for their Queen and country, they thought of nothing but victory. They gained it, restoring England’s true and brave ally to his throne; putting to complete rout the rebel army; killing numbers of them; and taking from them in the field, exclusive of those in the fort, fifty-two pieces of artillery, all their stores and ammunition, and capturing the city and fort of Gwalior, reckoned the strongest in India. The major-general thanks sincerely Brigadier-general Napier, C.B., Brigadier Stuart, C.B.,[[179]] and Brigadier Smith, commanding brigades in the field, for the very efficient and able assistance which they gave him, and to which he attributes the success of the day. He bids them and their brave soldiers once more a kind farewell. He cannot do so under better aspects than those of the victory of Gwalior.’

Every one admitted that Sir Hugh Rose had well earned a season of repose, after his five months of marching, fighting, besieging, and conquering. It was on the 12th of January 1858 that he took command of his Central India Field-force at Sehore. On the 23d he captured the town of Ratgurh; on the 28th, defeated the enemy in the field; and on the 30th, captured the fort of Ratgurh. February came, and with it, the relief of Saugor and the capture of the fort of Garra Kotah. In March he forced the pass of Mudenpore; captured a series of strongholds which gave him command of Bundelcund; took and burned Churkaree; and occupied Tal Behut. In April he defeated the rebel army of Tanteea Topee, near Jhansi; captured that city; and afterwards stormed and captured the fort belonging to it. In May he took the fort of Koonch; then fought a severe battle near Calpee; and eventually captured the fort at that place. Lastly, in June, as we have just seen, he thoroughly defeated the Gwalior mutineers, captured that important Mahratta city and fort, and replaced Scindia on the throne of his ancestors. Second to Havelock—and it may be doubted whether even this exception should be made—there was no general engaged in the wars arising out of the mutiny, whose operations were so numerous and so uniformly successful as those of Sir Hugh Rose. It must at the same time be admitted that Havelock, from first to last, had far smaller forces at his command.

The Central India Field-force underwent a total break up after the capture of Gwalior. The 95th regiment remained for a time within the rock-fort. Two of the Queen’s regiments of infantry, and one of the Bombay regiments, with detachments of cavalry and artillery, occupied the Moorar cantonment, until further directions could be received. At Jhansi were stationed the 3d Bombay Europeans, the 24th Bombay native infantry, with cavalry and artillery. Brigadier Smith’s Rajpootana brigade, which had rendered such good service at the siege of Gwalior, was distributed into three portions—one remaining at Gwalior, and the others going to Seepree and Goonah. All these troops absolutely needed rest. Whatever exertions were necessary to check the career of the fugitive rebels, were intrusted to troops from other quarters, especially to General Roberts, who held command of all the available troops in Rajpootana. Nothing but dire necessity kept British soldiers in the field under a midsummer sun in the plains of India. As to Sir Hugh Rose, a triumphant reception awaited him at Bombay; all ranks strove to render him honour, as one who had brought great renown to the Bombay army.

[176]. Brigadier Stuart, when he heard of the fatal termination of this bold and daring achievement, issued the following general order: ‘Brigadier Stuart has received with the deepest regret a report of the death of Lieutenant Rose, 25th Bombay N. I., who was mortally wounded yesterday, on entering the fort of Gwalior, on duty with his men. The brigadier feels assured that the whole brigade unite with him in deploring the early death of this gallant officer, whose many sterling qualities none who knew him could fail to appreciate.’

[177]. ‘Allahabad, June 24, 1858.—The Right Honourable the Governor-general has the highest gratification in announcing that the town and fort of Gwalior were conquered by Major-general Sir Hugh Rose on the 19th instant, after a general action in which the rebels, who had usurped the authority of Maharajah Scindia, were totally defeated. On the 20th of June, the Maharajah Scindia, attended by the governor-general’s agent for Central India, and Sir Hugh Rose, and escorted by British troops, was restored to the palace of his ancestors, and was welcomed by his subjects with every mark of loyalty and attachment. It was on the 1st of June that the rebels, aided by the treachery of some of Maharajah Scindia’s troops, seized the capital of his highness’s kingdom, and hoped to establish a new government under a pretender in his highness’s territory. Eighteen days had not elapsed before they were compelled to evacuate the town and fort of Gwalior, and to relinquish the authority which they had endeavoured to usurp. The promptitude and success with which the strength of the British government has been put forth to the restoration of its faithful ally to the capital of his territory, and the continued presence of British troops at Gwalior to support his highness in the re-establishment of his administration, offer to all a convincing proof that the British government has the will and the power to befriend those who, like Maharajah Scindia, do not shrink from their obligation or hesitate to avow their loyalty. The Right Honourable the Governor-general, in order to mark his appreciation of the Maharajah Scindia’s friendship, and his gratification at the re-establishment of his highness’s authority in his ancestral dominions, is pleased to direct that a royal salute shall be fired at every principal station in India.’

[178]. The Central India Field-force was a kind of offshoot from the Poonah division of the Bombay army.

[179]. Brigadier Steuart, who had been with Sir Hugh Rose in the earlier scenes of the campaign, retired through ill health before the operations at Gwalior began. His brigade passed to the command of Napier.

Darjeeling—Hill Sanatorium in Sikkim.

CHAPTER XXXI.
STATE OF AFFAIRS AT THE END OF JUNE.

Although the military operations conducted by Sir Hugh Rose and his heroic companions, bearing relation to the reconquest of Gwalior, and the re-establishment of Scindia on his Mahratta throne, were the most interesting events in India during the month of June, the other provinces also witnessed struggles and contests which equally need to be chronicled; seeing that they all contributed towards the one great and earnestly desired result—the pacification of the Anglo-Indian empire. Terrible, it is true, were the labours of the gallant men who fought and marched against the rebels under the scorching heat of an Indian sun—heat which was that year excessive, even for India itself; but such labours were necessary, and were borne with a degree of cheerfulness which commands our admiration for the sterling qualities of British troops. Sir Colin Campbell yearned to place his brave men under shade and at rest, until such time as the rains should have cooled down the summer’s fiery temperature; he did so to such an extent as was practicable; but this extent was not great. June, as we shall see, was a month of much fighting in the regions adjacent to the Ganges, the Jumna, the Chumbul, and the Sone.

Calcutta saw nothing of the governor-general during many months. He took up his abode at Allahabad; filling the offices not only of governor-general of the whole of India, but special governor of some of those disturbed regions which had at one time been called the Northwest Provinces, and at another the Central Provinces. This he had done in order that he might be in more easy communication with the commander-in-chief, and in more prompt receipt of intelligence from the various stations and camps in Oude, Behar, Rohilcund, the Doab, Bundelcund, Central India, and Rajpootana. How the weight of responsibility pressed on one who had to govern at such a time and in such a climate, few were aware; he worked on, early and late, thinking only how best he could act as the Queen’s viceroy for India. Calcutta had not much more to do with Lord Canning’s proceedings at that period, than the other presidential cities; for he had his staff of government employés with him at Allahabad.

Bengal was nearly at peace in June; few troubles disturbed the equable flow of commerce and industry. One slight transaction of an opposite kind may, however, be briefly noticed. A body of sailors sent from Calcutta had an opportunity of bringing some rebels to an account, and defeating them in the wonted style. A naval brigade, under Captain Moore, was stationed in the district of Singbhoom, southwest of Calcutta, near the frontier between the Bengal and Madras presidencies. The district comprised the four petty states of Singbhoom, Colehan, Surakella, and Khursawa, each of which had its rajah or chieftain. The only town of any note in the district was Chyebassa; and here was the Company’s civil station. The Rajah of Singbhoom, at the period now under notice, was endeavouring, like many other rajahs, to strengthen himself by throwing off British supremacy. It happened, on the 9th of the month, when the brigade was encamped at Chuckerderpore, but when some of the officers had gone to Chyebassa, that the camp was suddenly attacked by the rajah’s motley retinue of Koles, a half-savage tribe armed with battle-axes, bows and arrows, spears, and matchlocks. They invested the camp on all sides, and made a very fierce attack. The seamen poured in a few shells among them, which threw them into much disorder. After this a party of thirty went out, and committed much havoc among them in a hand-to-hand contest. Captain Moncrieff then rode in from Chyebassa, with a cavalry escort, and at once engaged with the rebels. After five hours’ skirmishing, the mid-day sun exhausted alike Europeans and Koles; and nothing further occurred till the morning of the 10th. The rebels were so numerous that the brigade could only attack them on one side at once; and thus it was not until the arrival of a hundred Ramgurh troops and fifty Sikhs, at noon on the 11th, that the rajah and his Koles gave way—retreating to the jungles of Porahaut.

In other parts of Bengal there were petty chieftains of like character, who were quite willing to set up as kings on their own account—regardless of treaties existing between them and the Company, and actuated solely by the temptations afforded during a period of disorder. But the conditions were not favourable to them. The meek and cowardly Bengalees did not imitate the Hindustanis of the Doab and Oude; the hill-tribes were too few in number to be formidable; and the steady arrival of British troops at Calcutta strengthened the hands of the authorities in all the surrounding regions. Arrangements were gradually made for increasing the number of European troops at Calcutta, Dacca, Barrackpore, Berhampore, Hazarebagh, Jessore, and one or two other stations—so as to place the whole of Bengal more immediately under the eye of the military authorities.

These defensive measures extended as far north as Darjeeling—one of those healthy and temperate Hill-stations which have so often been adverted to in former chapters as important sanitaria for the English in India. Simla, Landour, Kussowlie, Subathoo, Mussouree, Dugshai, Almora, and Nynee Tal, are all of this character; and to these may be added Darjeeling. A patch of hill-country, containing about three hundred square miles, and formerly belonging to the Rajah of Sikim, was obtained by the Company a few years ago, and Darjeeling established near its centre. The Himalayas bound it on the north, Nepaul on the west, Bhotan on the east, and two of the Bengal districts on the south. The hills and valleys are beautiful, and the climate healthy. Darjeeling is more particularly mentioned in this place, because, about the date to which this chapter refers, public attention was called to a project for establishing a settlement called Hope Town, on the slopes of a hill near Darjeeling. This settlement was to be for independent emigrants, colonists, or settlers, from the plains, or even from Europe; who, it was hoped, might be tempted to that region by a fertile soil and a magnificent climate, and thus gradually introduce English farming at the base of the Himalayas. A company or society purchased or leased about fourteen thousand acres of hill-land, in Darjeeling district, but not in immediate contiguity to Darjeeling town. It was announced that the locality contained clay for bricks, rubble for masonry, lime for mortar, timber for carpentry and for fuel, and all the essential requisites for building; water was abundant, from the mountain streams and springs; while peaceful natives in the neighbouring plains would be eager to obtain employment as artisans and labourers. The elevation of the land, varying from three to six thousand feet, offered much facility of choice. As the government had commenced a road from Darjeeling and Hope Town to Caragola Ghât on the Ganges, there would be good markets for hill produce in many parts of Bengal—perhaps in Calcutta itself. When the project of this Hope Town settlement was first formed in 1856, it was intended that the projectors should grant leases of small plots for farms or dwellings, for a fixed number of years, and at a rental so small as to attract settlers; while at the same time this rental should so far exceed what the speculators paid to the government as to enable them to construct a road, and build a school-room, church, library, and other component elements for a town. This, it may be observed, was only one among several colonising projects brought before public notice in India. The land containing many magnificent tracts, and the climate presenting many varieties of temperature, it has often been urged that that noble country presents advantages for settlement which ought no longer to be overlooked. So long as the East India Company’s power existed, any colonising schemes would necessarily prove almost abortive; but now that British India owns no other ruler than the sovereign of England, there may in future years be an opening offered for the thorough examination and testing of this important question, that its merits and demerits may be fairly compared. Some of the advocates of colonisation have painted imaginary pictures so glowing as to represent India as the true Dorado or Golden Land of the widely spreading British empire; some of the opponents of colonisation, on the other hand, have asserted that British farmers could not live in India if they would, and would not if they could:—the future will strike out a practicable mean between these two extremes.

The controversy concerning Indian heat, in reference to the wants and constitutions of English settlers, bore very closely on the subject of colonisation, and on the difference between the hilly districts and the plains. In military matters, however, and in reference to the struggle actually going on, all admitted that the summer of 1858 had been more than usually fierce in its heat. A correspondent of one of the journals said: ‘As if to try the endurance of Englishmen to the utmost, the season has been such as has not been known since 1833. Those who know Bengal will understand it when I say that on the 15th inst. one clergyman in Calcutta buried forty-eight Englishmen, chiefly sailors. In one ship the captain, chief-mate, and twenty-six men, had all apoplexy at once. Nine men from Fort-William were buried one morning from the same cause. Her Majesty’s 19th, at Barrackpore, who are nearly all under cover, and who are most carefully looked after, have 200 men unfit for duty from immense boils. All over the country paragraph after paragraph announces the deaths of so many men at such a place from apoplexy.’ The same writer mentions the case of a colonel who, just arrived with his regiment at Calcutta, and, unfamiliar with an Indian climate, marched off his men with their stocks on: in an hour afterwards he and his instructor in rifle-practice were both dead from apoplexy.

Before quitting Calcutta, it may be well to mention that the month of June was marked by an honourable and energetic movement for recording the services and cherishing the memory of Mr Venables, one of those civil servants of the Company who displayed an undaunted spirit, and considerable military talent, in times of great trial. It will be remembered that, after many months of active service, both civil and military, Mr Venables was wounded at Azimghur on the 15th of April;[[180]] from the effects of this wound he soon afterwards sank—dying as he had lived, a frank and gallant man. A committee was formed in Calcutta to found, by individual subscriptions, some sort of memorial worthy of the man. Viscount Canning took an early opportunity of joining in this manifestation; and in a letter to the committee he spoke of Mr Venables in the following terms: ‘It will be a satisfaction to me to join in this good work, not only on account of the admiration which I feel for the high qualities which Mr Venables devoted to the public service, his intrepidity in the field, his energy and calm temper in upholding the civil authority, and his thoroughly just appreciation of the people and circumstances with which he had to deal; but also, and especially, on account of circumstances attending the last service which Mr Venables rendered to his country. After the capture of Lucknow, where he was attached to Brigadier General Franks’ column, Mr Venables came to Allahabad. He was broken in health and spirits, anxious for rest, and looking forward eagerly to his return to England, for which his preparations were made. At that time the appearance of affairs near Azimghur was threatening; and I asked Mr Venables to forego his departure from India, and return to that district, with which he was intimately acquainted—there to assist in preserving order until danger should have passed away. He at once consented cheerfully; and that consent cost him his life. I am certain that the Court of Directors, who are fully informed of all particulars of Mr Venables’s great services and untimely death, will be eager to mark, in such manner as shall seem best to them, their appreciation of the character of this brave, self-denying English gentleman; and I am truly glad to have an opportunity of joining with his fellow-countrymen in India in testifying the sincere respect which I feel for his memory.’

Beyond the limits of Bengal, one of the many interesting questions that pressed upon public attention bore relation to Nepaul and Jung Bahadoor. That gay, gorgeous, shrewd, and unscrupulous chieftain had gone back to his own country somewhat dissatisfied with his share in the Oude campaign, or with the advantages accruing from it. Queen Victoria had made him a Grand Cross of the Bath—a gentle knight ‘sans peur et sans reproche,’ according to the original meaning of that honourable distinction; but there were those who believed he would have better welcomed some more substantial recognition of his services, such as a fair slice out of the territory of Oude. Some doubted his fidelity to the British cause, and among these were several of the leaders among the rebels. There came to light a most remarkable correspondence, shewing in what way Jung Bahadoor was tempted to swerve from his allegiance, and in what way he resisted the temptation. Several letters were made public—by what agency does not clearly appear—addressed by the Begum of Oude and her adherents to the Nepaulese chieftain. About the period to which this chapter relates, the rebel party at Lucknow disseminated rumours to the effect that Jung Bahadoor, after his return to Nepaul, had been written to by the Begum, and that he had undertaken to throw in his lot with the ‘patriots’ of Oude. That the attempt was made is clear enough; but the nature of the response, so far as the published correspondence revealed it, certainly does not seem to implicate him. One letter, apparently written about the end of May, was signed by Mahomed Surfraz Ali, who designated himself ambassador of the King of Oude. It began by expressing astonishment that Nepaul should have aided the infidel British, after having in former days been in friendly alliance with Oude. ‘The chiefs of every tribe,’ it said, ‘should fight for their religion as long as they live.’ Considering that the Oude royal family were Mohammedans, and the Nepaulese Hindoos, the ambassador had some difficulty in so framing his letter as to prove that Jung Bahadoor ought to aid them rather than the English; and indeed his logic was somewhat lame. The ambassador stated that he was then writing at Toolseepore, whither he had been sent by the powerful Moulvie Ahmedoolah Shah, on the part of the King of Oude, to act as accredited agent or ambassador with the Nepaul authorities. He proceeded to state that seven letters, in the Persian language, had been written by Mahomed Khan Bahadoor, viceroy of Oude, to as many of the chief personages in Oude—among others, to Jung Bahadoor himself; and that two letters, in the Hindee language, had been written under the seal of the King of Oude, one addressed to the King of Nepaul, and one to Jung Bahadoor. Mahomed Surfraz Ali added: ‘Neither I nor the servants of our government are acquainted with your titles, or those of your authorities, so we cannot address you properly. I am in hopes that you will send me word how we should address you; and pray forgive any mistakes or omissions in this letter.’ He begged the favour of a letter, with the chieftain’s seal attached, for presentation to the court of Oude. The letters purporting to be written by or for ‘Ramzan Ali Khan Mirza Birjiz Kudr Bahadoor,’ King of Oude, assumed quite a regal style, and almost claimed the alliance of the Nepaul Maharajah as a right. The royal letter-writer made short work of the causes of the mutiny: ‘The British some time ago attempted to interfere with the faith of both the Hindoos and the Mohammedans, by preparing cartridges with cows’ grease for the Hindoos, and that of pigs’ for the Mohammedans, and ordering them to bite them with their teeth. The sepoys refused, and were ordered by the British to be blown away from guns on the parade-ground. This is the cause of the war breaking out, and probably you are acquainted with it. But I am ignorant as to how they managed to get your troops, which they brought down here, and began to commit every sort of violence, and to pull down temples, mosques, imaumbarahs, and sacred places. You are well aware of the treachery of the British; and it is proper you should preserve the standard of religion, and make the tree of friendship between you and me fresh.’ The real correspondents, in this exchange of letters, were the Begum of Oude and Jung Bahadoor. The astute chieftain wrote a reply, couched in such terms as to suggest a probability that the British resident at Khatmandoo was at his elbow. One of his high-flown paragraphs ran thus: ‘Since the star of faith and integrity, sincerity in words as well as in acts, and wisdom and comprehension, of the British, are shining as bright as the sun in every quarter of the globe, be assured that my government will never disunite itself from the friendship of the exalted British government, or be instigated to join with any monarch against it, be he as high as heaven. What grounds can we have for connecting ourselves with the Hindoos and Mohammedans of Hindostan?’ And he ended with this bit of advice: ‘As you have sent me a friendly letter, let me persuade you, that if any person, Hindoo or Mohammedan, who has not murdered a British lady or child, goes immediately to Mr Montgomery, the chief-commissioner of Lucknow, and surrenders his arms, and makes submission, he will be permitted to retain his honour, and his crime will be pardoned. If you still be inclined to make war on the British, no rajah or king in the world will give you an asylum; and death will be the end of it.’ This reply, supposing it to be a spontaneous expression of the real sentiments of Jung Bahadoor, would have possessed very high value; but a large deduction must probably be made both from the spontaneity and the sincerity.

It may perhaps be well to notice that the royal house of Oude was at discord with itself in those days, and that the king’s name was used ‘as a tower of strength’ by intriguers who cared little for rightful ownership. The real king—that is, the ex-king—was at Calcutta, a prisoner and a half-idiot, with depravity enough to enjoy plots, but not brains to execute them. The legitimate son and heir, so to speak, was in Europe, where he had lately buried his grandmother the dowager-queen of Oude, and was spending his father’s money at a very rapid rate. The regal personages at Lucknow were the Begum and her son. The Begum was one of the king’s many ladies; and her son was a weak-headed youth of thirteen years old—‘illegitimate,’ according to the assertions of the ‘legitimate’ son at that time in Europe. The exiled king and his two sons were, in reference to these machinations at Lucknow, mere tools or pretences; the real mover was the clever and ambitious Begum. In Nepaul, likewise, the real power was possessed, not by the maharajah, or sovereign, but by his all-controlling, king-making subject, Jung Bahadoor.

The proceedings of the Oudian intriguers during the month of June will presently be noticed in other ways; but it will be convenient first to attend to the affairs of Behar.

In former chapters it has been narrated, in sufficient fulness for the purpose in view, how the western provinces of Behar were troubled by the Jugdispore and Dinapoor rebels, and with how many difficulties Sir Edward Lugard had to contend in bringing his ‘Azimghur Field-force’ to bear against them. The month of June offered no exception to this state of things. Most harassing indeed were the labours which they brought upon him, testing his patience and perseverance more, perhaps, than his military skill. Notwithstanding the numerous defeats which they had suffered, these mutinied sepoys and armed budmashes were continually moving from place to place—giving evidence of their presence by murder, plunder, and burning. The jungles around Jugdispore afforded many facilities for hiding and secret flight. One of the many defeats inflicted by Sir Edward occurred on the 27th of May. Immediately afterwards a body of several hundreds of those insurgents issued from the eastern portion of the jungle, and shewed themselves in their true character as marauders bent on mischief, rather than as soldiers fighting for a definite cause. On the 30th they burned an indigo factory at Twining Gunge, a place near Dumoran; whilst on the same day another body advanced to the village of Rajpore, within eight miles of Buxar, and murdered two natives in government service. From thence they wandered, during the next four or five days, among the neighbouring villages, working mischief at every step. In anything like a military sense, these bands of marauders were contemptible; but so numerous were the unemployed and half-fed ruffians in the disturbed districts, that there were always materials at hand for swelling the numbers of these freebooting insurgents. Lugard was compelled to keep his troops moving about, between Arrah and Buxar; while the authorities at Ghazeepore and Benares were on the alert to check any advance of the rebels towards those cities. On the 2d of June he divided his force into two wings, and established camps at Keshwa and Dulleepore, with a line of posts across the jungle. On the next day he cut a broad road through the jungle to connect the two camps. Having thus completely hemmed a considerable body of the rebels within the southern end of the jungle, he attacked them with his whole force on the 4th, with a very successful result—so far as regarded the maintenance of military superiority. The rebels attempted for a time to make a stand; but the 10th and 84th foot, charging with the bayonet, defeated them with great slaughter. Here again, however, was the old story repeated; his hope of capturing the main body of rebels was frustrated; they broke up into small bands, and fled in various directions.

Instead of describing numerous petty contests that occurred during the month, it may be well to illustrate the peculiar characteristics of the struggle by one particular instance, to shew that the British troops in Behar had more certainty of hard work than chance of glory. During the first week in June, Sir Edward intrusted to Brigadier Douglas the duty of intercepting a body of rebels from the Jugdispore district towards Buxar—a difficult duty, on account of the ingenuity of the rebels in eluding pursuit. Douglas started on the 7th, taking with him H.M. 84th foot, a troop of the 4th Madras cavalry, three troops of the military train, and three guns of the royal horse-artillery. On that and the two following days he marched to Buxar, by way of Shahpoor and Saumgunje. Between the 10th and the 13th he was busily engaged in the almost hopeless task of catching the rebels who were known to be marching and marauding not far distant. Now he would descry a few hundred of them in a tope of trees, and send his horse-artillery to disperse them with grape-shot; now he would cross the little river Surronuddee, or the Kurrumnassa, or hasten to the Sheapoor Ghât, in the hope of cutting off fugitives; now he would march through or near the villages of Ghamur, Chawsa, or Barra, in search either of rebels or of intelligence. His success by no means repaid him for his harassing exertions; he could seldom rely on information obtained concerning the movements of the rebels, and still more seldom could he catch the rebels themselves. In his dispatch relating to these operations, the brigadier said: ‘Three men of the royal horse-artillery died during the night from the effects of the sun, and one man of the 84th.... The heat during the operations was intense, and the troops suffered much, particularly the 84th regiment, who have now been thirteen months in the field. I consider this regiment at present to be quite unfit for active service; the men have no positive disease, but they are so exhausted that they can neither eat nor sleep.’ If they could have encountered the enemy, and thoroughly vanquished them in a regular battle, the overworked and heat-worn soldiers would have borne this and more than this cheerfully; but they had to deal with rebels who eluded their search in an extraordinary way. Sir Edward Lugard, in a dispatch written on the 14th, dated from his camp at Narainpoor, near Jugdispore, adverted to this subject in the following terms: ‘To shew the rapidity and secrecy with which the rebels conduct their movements, I beg to state, that in order to guard against the return of any party from the west towards the jungles, without my getting timely intelligence, so that I might intercept them, I posted at Roop-Saugor—a village thirteen miles to my southwest, on the track taken by the rebels in their flight—Captain Rattray, with his Sikh battalion. He again threw forward scouts some miles in the same direction, and constantly had parties patrolling in the different villages. But in spite of every precaution, the rebel force were at Medneepore, within four miles of him, before he could communicate with me, and passed on towards the jungle the same night. Every endeavour to obtain information from the people of the district has proved vain; scarcely ever has any intelligence been given to us, until the time has passed when advantage could be taken of it.’

In reference to these Jugdispore rebels, it has been remarked that they were neither Sikhs from the west, nor Poorbeahs from the east; but chiefly Bhojpoories of the Shahabad district, most of them born on Koer Singh’s own estates. Moreover, causes have been assigned for thinking that these, as well as other rebels, adhered most to those leaders who could treat them best, whether in pay or plunder, without much reference to their military abilities. ‘The extraordinary variations in the numbers of the insurgents may be partly accounted for by variations in the readiness of pay. Koer Singh, when he left Oude, had barely five hundred men in his train. As he marched, every straggling sepoy, every embarrassed scoundrel with a sword, enlisted in his service. By the time he reached Azimghur he had two thousand five hundred followers; most, but not all, well armed. The flight across the river dispersed them once more; and it was not till the check sustained by H.M. 35th that they thronged to him again. Apparently the leaders are well aware of the advantage this peculiarity affords. Thus, after their defeat by Sir E. Lugard, the great bulk of the Behar insurgents vanished; the work was apparently complete, and the military ends of the campaign to all appearance accomplished. The leaders, however, remained in the jungle, and in five days their followers were round them again; they had glided back in twos and threes, by paths on which no European would be met.’

After many weeks of fatiguing duty in this region, Sir Edward Lugard, worn with heat and sickness, resigned the command about the end of June; handing over to Colonel Douglas the office of chasing the Jugdispore rebels from place to place. Nor was it in that particular locality alone that this duty had to be fulfilled. Ummer Singh, equalling his deceased brother in activity, was no sooner defeated in one place than he made his appearance in another, carrying discord into villages where his presence was as little desired by natives as by Europeans. While Colonel Douglas was on his way towards the scene of his new command, news reached him that the English at Gayah had been driven into intrenchments by a party of a hundred and fifty rebel prisoners, who had been set at liberty by the native police employed to watch them, and were speedily joined by the jail convicts; all—prisoners, police, and convicts—became suddenly ‘patriots,’ and shewed their patriotism by threatening all the officials at the station. This is believed to have been done by some connivance with Ummer Singh. The Europeans at Gayah were thrown into a great ferment by this visitation; the few troops present were withdrawn into the intrenchment, as were likewise the civilians, ladies, and children. No immediate attack followed; but the incident furnished one among many proofs that the native police were, in most of the Bengal and Hindostan provinces, a source of more danger than protection to the British—except the Sikh police, who almost uniformly behaved well.

The transactions in Oude, during the month of June, told of rebels defeated but not disbanded, weakened but not captured. There were many leaders, and these required to be narrowly watched.

One of the first cares of the authorities was to place the important city of Lucknow in such a state of defence as to render it safe from attacks within and without. Various military works were planned by Colonel Napier, and were executed by Major Crommelin after Napier’s departure. From the vast extent of Lucknow, and the absence of any very prominent features of the ground, it was a difficult city to defend except by a large body of troops. The point which gave the nearest approach to a command over the city was the old fort or Muchee Bhowan, near which was the great Emanbarra, capable of sheltering a large number of troops. It was decided to select several spots as military posts, to clear the ground round those spots, and to open streets or roads of communication from post to post. The Muchee Bhowan was selected as the chief of these posts; a second was near the iron bridge leading over the Goomtee to the Fyzabad road; a third was on the site of the Residency, now a heap of ruins; a fourth was at the Moosa Bagh. All suburbs and buildings lying on the banks of the river, likely to intercept the free march of troops from the Muchee Bhowan to the Moosa Bagh, were ordered to be swept away. Large masses of houses were also removed, to form good military roads from the Muchee Bhowan to the Char Bagh, the Moosa Bagh, the stone bridge, the iron bridge, and the old cantonment. The vast range of palaces, such as the Fureed Buksh, the Chuttur Munzil, the Kaiser Bagh, &c., were converted temporarily into barracks, and all the streets and buildings near them either pulled down or thrown open. The Martinière, the Dil Koosha, and Banks’s house, were formed into military posts on the eastern side of the city. The two extremes of these posts, from northwest to southeast, were not far short of seven miles asunder; they would require a considerable number of troops for their occupancy and defence; but under any circumstances such would be required in the great capital of Oude for a long period to come.

The Alum Bagh continued to be maintained, as an important and useful station on the road from Lucknow to Cawnpore. It was destined to live in history as a place which Sir James Outram had defended for nearly four months against armed forces estimated at little short of a hundred thousand men. It was not originally a fort, only a palace in the midst of a walled garden; but it presented facilities for being made into useful shelter for troops. Another place, the bridge of Bunnee, over the river Sye, was also carefully maintained as an important military post between Lucknow and Cawnpore. During the latter part of May, the English troops employed with Sir Hope Grant in various expeditions against the enemy suffered severely from the heat; and it was found necessary to give the 38th regiment a temporary sojourn in the Emanbarra at Lucknow, supplying their place by the 53d. On the 3d of June the Bunnee force moved out, to disperse a body of rebels who had posted themselves near Pooroa. There was another duty of a singular kind intrusted to these troops. The Rajah of Kupoorthully, a Sikh chieftain, who had rendered valuable services to the government in time of need, received as a reward an extensive jaghire or domain in Oude. In order that he might defend both himself and British interests in that domain, he was assisted in intrenching himself, and was supplied with guns, mortars, and ammunition; this was irrespective of his own force of four thousand Sikh troops.

Shortly after the opening of the month, rumours reached the authorities at Lucknow that a body of rebels, estimated at seventeen or eighteen thousand, had crossed the Gogra, and taken up a position at Ramnuggur Dhumaree, under the orders of Gorhuccus Singh. The correctness of this report was not certain—nor of others that Madhoo Singh was at the head of five thousand rebels at Goosaengunje, Benee Madhoo with a small number in the Poorwah district, and Dunkha Shah with a larger force near Chinhut. Still, though these numbers were probably exaggerated by alarmists, it was not considered prudent to leave the northeast region of Oude unprotected. Accordingly, a movable column was organised, to proceed towards Fyzabad.

Sir Hope Grant, intrusted at that time with the conduct of military affairs in Oude, himself conducted an expedition towards the districts just adverted to. A little before midnight on the 12th of June, acting on information which had reached him, he marched from Lucknow to Chinhut, and thence towards Nawabgunge, on the Fyzabad road. His force consisted of the 2d and 3d battalions of the Rifle Brigade, the 5th Punjaub Rifles, a detachment of Engineers and Sappers, the 7th Hussars, two squadrons of the 2d Dragoon Guards, Hodson’s Horse, a squadron of the first Sikh cavalry, a troop of mounted police, a troop of horse-artillery, and two light field-batteries. Leaving a garrison column at Chinhut, under Colonel Purnell, and intrusting the same officer with the temporary charge of the baggage and supplies belonging to the column, Sir Hope resumed his march during the night towards Nawabgunge, where sixteen thousand rebels had assembled, with several guns. By daylight on the following morning he crossed the Beti Nuddee at Quadrigunje, by means of a ford. He had purposely adopted this route instead of advancing to the bridge on the Fyzabad road; in order that, after crossing the nullah, he might get between the enemy and a large jungle. As a strong force of rebels defended the ford, a sharp artillery-fire, kept up by Mackinnon’s horse-artillery and Johnson’s battery, was necessary to effect this passage. Having surmounted this obstacle, Sir Hope, approaching nearer to Nawabgunge, got into the jungle district. Here the rebels made an attempt to surround him on all sides, and pick off his men by repeated volleys of musketry. The general speedily changed the aspect of affairs. He sent a troop of horse-artillery to the front; Johnson’s battery and two squadrons of horse were sent to defend the left; while a larger body confronted the rebels on the right—where the enemy apparently expected to find and to capture Sir Hope’s baggage. The struggle was very fierce, and the slaughter of the rebels considerable; the enemy, fanatical as well as numerous, gave exercise for all Grant’s boldness and sagacity in contending with them. The victory was complete—and yet it was indefinite; for the rebels, as usual, escaped, to renew their mischief at some other time and place. Nearly six hundred of their number were slain; the wounded were much more numerous. Hope Grant’s list of killed and wounded numbered about a hundred. Many of the rebels were Ghazees or Mohammedan fanatics, far more difficult to deal with than the mutinied sepoys. Adverting to some of the operations on the right flank, Grant said in his dispatch: ‘On arriving at this point, I found that a large number of Ghazees, with two guns, had come out on the open plain, and attacked Hodson’s Horse. I immediately ordered up the other four guns under the command of Lieutenant Percival, and two squadrons of the 7th Hussars under Major Sir W. Russell, and opened grape upon them within three or four hundred yards with terrible effect. But the fanatics made the most determined resistance; and two men in the midst of a shower of grape brought forward two green standards, which they planted in the ground beside their guns, and rallied their men. Captain Atherley’s two companies of the 3d battalion Rifle Brigade at this moment advanced to the attack, which obliged the rebels to move off. The cavalry then got between them and the guns; and the 7th Hussars, led gallantly by Sir W. Russell, supported by Hodson’s Horse under Major Daly, swept through them—killing every man.’ Whatever may have been the causes, proximate or remote, of the mutiny, it is quite evident that such Mussulman fanatics as these, with their green flag of rebellion and their cries of ‘Deen! deen!’ had been worked up, or had worked themselves up, to something like a sincere belief that they were fighting for their religion.

The chief body of rebels, as has just been stated, succeeded in escaping from Nawabgunge after the battle. They fled chiefly to Ramnuggur and Mahadeo on the banks of the Gogra, and to Bhitowlie at the junction of that river with the Chowka—with the apparent and probable intention of throwing up earthworks for the defence of those positions.

Just about the time when Sir Hope Grant defeated these Nawabgunge rebels—supposed to have been headed by the Begum of Oude and her paramour Mummoo Khan—the career of the energetic Moulvie was suddenly cut short at another. This remarkable man, Moulvie Ahmedullah Shah, died as he had long lived, struggling against the Feringhees and all who supported them. On the 15th of June, after having been driven from place to place by the various British columns and detachments, he arrived from Mohumdee at Powayne, a town about sixteen miles northeast of Shahjehanpoor. He had with him a considerable body of horse, and some guns. The Rajah of Powayne, named Juggernath Singh, having incurred the displeasure of the Moulvie by sheltering two native servants of the Company, was attacked by him. Juggernath Singh, and his two brothers Buldeo Singh and Komul Singh, went out to confront the Moulvie as best they could. A skirmish ensued, which lasted three hours. The most notable result was the death of the Moulvie; he received a shot, and fell; his head was at once severed; and the Rajah sent the head and trunk to Shahjehanpoor, to be delivered to Mr Gilbert Money, the commissioner. Glad as the British may have been to get rid of a formidable enemy, it is doubtful whether Mr Money received the bleeding gift with much gratification. The Rajah of Powayne, however, had long been an object of suspicion, on account of his unfeeling conduct towards some of the poor fugitives in the early days of the Revolt; and as the British cause was now obviously the winning cause, he was anxious, by his alacrity in dealing with the dead body of the Moulvie, to win favour with the authorities. A very large reward had been offered by the government to whoever could capture the Moulvie; and although some doubt was expressed whether this was intended to apply as well to the bleeding corpse as to the living man, the reward was paid to the Powayne chieftain.

Principal Street in Lucknow.

It was unquestionably a great gain to the British to know that the Moulvie was really removed from the field of strife. As to the Begum, she still remained unsubdued, moving from place to place according as she could gather a large body of adherents around her. It was about the second week in June, so far as is rendered apparent by the correspondence, that she received Jung Bahadoor’s very decisive rejection of the appeal made by her for his alliance, lately adverted to; and as she lost nearly at the same time her able coadjutor the Moulvie, her prospects became more gloomy. Of Nena Sahib, little more could be said than that he was true to his character—a coward in all things. Where he was at any particular time, the British seldom certainly knew: he had not the courage of the Moulvie, or the Begum, or the Ranee.

In connection rather with the province of Goruckpore than with that of Oude, though nearly on the boundary-line between the two, must be mentioned two encounters in which the naval brigade honourably distinguished itself. The Shannon’s seamen, it will be remembered, supplied a naval brigade under the lamented Captain Sir William Peel, for service in Oude; but there was also another brigade furnished by the Pearl, of which Captain Sotheby was commander. During May and June, this brigade was associated with certain troops and marines in the maintenance of order on the Goruckpore frontier of Oude. While on detached service, Major Cox and Lieutenant Turnour came in contact with the enemy on the 9th of June. The lieutenant had under him two 12-pounder howitzers, a 24-pounder rocket-tube, and about fifty seamen of the Pearl’s crew; Lieutenant Pym had the control of about twenty marines from the same ship; while Major Cox, who commanded the whole detachment, had under him a small military force comprising two hundred men of the 13th light infantry, two troops of Madras cavalry, two troops of Bengal cavalry, and twenty Sikhs. It was altogether a singular medley of combatants. Having heard that Mahomed Hussein was occupying the neighbouring village of Amorha or Amorah in great force, Major Cox resolved to attack him. He divided his detachment into two parts, one headed by himself, and the other by Major Richardson. The seamen and marines were attached to Richardson’s party. Starting at two o’clock in the morning, they marched along the road leading through the village. When within a mile of Amorah, they received a heavy fire from the rebel skirmishers; these were immediately attacked and driven in by Pym and the marines; while the guns threw shot and shell on the main body. Attempting to retreat on the other flank, Cox met and frustrated them; and the result of the skirmish was a decisive abandonment of the village by the rebels. Nine days afterwards another force, similar in constitution but larger in numbers, comprising in its naval element about a hundred and ten seamen, set out from Captangunje to make another attack on Mahomed Hussein, who was posted with four thousand rebels at Hurreah, about eight miles off. On approaching near Hurreah, the enemy’s skirmishers were descried thrown across the river Gogra, screened in thick bamboo jungles, villages, topes of trees, and a dry nullah. British skirmishers were quickly sent on ahead, drove in the enemy, and waded the river after them up to their waists; the guns followed, and the enemy were driven from tope to tope, and from every place of concealment, and chased for four miles. The heat was tremendous; insomuch that seven hours’ marching, fighting, and pursuing nearly knocked up officers and men. Mahomed Hussein, however, was severely defeated, and this was deemed a sufficient reward for all the fatigues and privations. The Pearl’s naval brigade counted this as the tenth time in which it had been in action in nine months.

It may be here mentioned that an endeavour was made, towards the end of June, to estimate the number of thalookdars and other petty chieftains who were in arms against the British in the province of Oude; together with the amount of force at their disposal. The estimate was not wholly reliable, for the means of obtaining correct information were very deficient. The list published in some of the Bombay newspapers, professing to be the nearest attainable approach to the truth, included the names of about thirty-five ‘thalookdars,’ ‘rajahs,’ and ‘chuckladars,’ holding among them about twenty-five mud-forts, with nearly a hundred guns, and forty thousand armed retainers. The chief items in this curious list were—‘The three chuckladars Mahomed Hussein, Mehndee Hussein, and Shaik Padil Imam, have twenty-three guns and ten thousand men massed about Sultanpore; some occupying Saloun, ten kos from Roy Bareilly’—‘At Nain, within nine kos of Roy Bareilly, four thalookdars, named Juggernath Buksh, Bugwan Buksh, Bussunth Singh, and Juggernath (?), have collected eight guns and six thousand men’—‘Banie Madhao, thalookdar; at Sukerpore, a strong fort surrounded by jungle, a few kos from Roy Bareilly; nineteen guns and eight thousand men’—‘Rajah Ali Buksh Khan, at Moham, a small fort twenty-five kos east of Lucknow; five guns and fifteen hundred men.’ Most of the rebel gatherings here adverted to were in the region around Roy Bareilly, southeast of Lucknow.

But notwithstanding these high-sounding names and formidable numbers, the cause of regular government in Oude was gradually advancing. The rebels could no longer endanger; they could only annoy. Mr Montgomery, at Lucknow, intrusted with large powers by the governor-general, was gradually feeling his way. While Crommelin took charge of the immediate defence of that city, and Hope Grant was grappling with the rebels in the open field, Montgomery was employed in re-establishing the network of judicial and revenue organisation, as favourable opportunities arose. The Rajah of Kapoorthully, lately adverted to, undertook the defence of the region between the Bunnee and Cawnpore; while Hope Grant kept a vigilant eye on the centre of Oude. The astute and double-dealing Maun Singh was placed in a singular position. He was distrusted by both parties, because he would not openly side with one against the other. As the chieftain of Shahgunje, on the river Gogra, very near the eastern frontier of Oude, he would be formidable either as a friend or a foe. He had a fort, guns, and men at his command. There could be no question that for thirteen months he had been watching the progress of events, to determine in which balance to throw his sword; and it was equally evident that he was gradually recognising more and more the value of English friendship—as a consequence, he was bitterly disliked by the rebel leaders. Taking a view of the state of Oude generally during June, it is necessary to make a distinction between the earlier and the later days of the month. The former was much less favourable than the latter. It could not truthfully be said that the pacification proceeded rapidly. Injury was wrought by the party-tactics concerning the famous proclamation penned by Viscount Canning and condemned by the Earl of Ellenborough. The violent discussions arising out of that collision of opinion could not be wholly concealed from the natives of India. It cannot be doubted that many of the reckless and unscrupulous speeches made in the British parliament became known to, and cherished by, the insurgent chieftains. When a halo of suffering virtue was thrown around the Oudian royal family, and when the Queen of England’s viceroy in India was spoken of almost as a murderer and robber, the power of the government became necessarily shaken, and the difficulties of pacification increased. The proclamation was modified; nay, Mr Montgomery received discretionary powers to determine whether, and when, and where there should be a proclamation at all—the governor-general wisely leaving it to his sagacity to be guided by the circumstance of time and place. At the beginning of June little had been effected towards winning the submission of the malcontent thalookdars and chuckladars; the hopes of successful rebellion had not been sufficiently damped. Nevertheless, as the month advanced, and when the Moulvie was dead and the Gwalior rebels beaten, the Oudian landowners, by ones and twos, began to look out for a compromise, which might enable them safely to abandon a losing cause. One of the most embarrassing difficulties perhaps was this—that the rebel leaders made instant war against any thalookdars or chuckladars who gave in their submission to the British government under the modified proclamation—thereby deterring the more timid landowners from the adoption of this course. Maun Singh himself was besieged by an insurgent force; but his means of resistance were considerable.

One of the evidences afforded that the pacification of Oude was considered to be gradually approaching, was the disbandment of the corps of Volunteer Cavalry, which was composed almost wholly of officers and gentlemen, and which had rendered such eminent services at a time when European troops were doubly precious from their extreme rarity. In a notification issued at Calcutta, Viscount Canning, after mentioning some of the arrangements connected with the disbanding, thus spoke of the services of the corps: ‘The Volunteer Cavalry took a prominent part in all the successes which marked the advance of the late Major-general Sir Henry Havelock from Allahabad to Lucknow; and on every occasion of its employment against the rebels—whether on the advance to Lucknow, or as part of the force with which Major-general Sir James Outram held Alum Bagh—this corps has greatly distinguished itself by its gallantry in action, and by its fortitude and endurance under great exposure and fatigue. The governor-general offers to Major Barrow, who ably commanded the Volunteer Cavalry, and boldly led them in all the operations in which they were engaged, his most cordial acknowledgments for his very valuable services: and to Captain Lynch, and all the officers and men who composed this corps, his lordship tenders his best thanks for the eminent good conduct and exemplary courage which they displayed during the whole time that the corps was embodied.’ The farewell of Sir James Outram was more hearty, because less official.[[181]]

Directing our attention next to the Doab and Rohilcund, it becomes at once apparent that organisation and systematic government made great advances during the month of June. The Doab no longer contained any large body of armed rebels. There were numerous smaller bands, but these bands chiefly made use of the Doab as a route of passage. The hopes of the rebel leaders were directed mainly towards two regions—Oude, on the north of the Ganges; and Central India, on the south of the Jumna. According as the fortunes of war (or rather depredation) tended in the one direction or the other, so did groups of armed insurgents cross, or attempt to cross, those rivers by means of the ghâts or ferries. If the chances for rebel success appeared stronger at Lucknow or Fyzabad, Bareilly or Shahjehanpoor, this current tended northward, or rather northeastward: if Calpee or Jhansi, Gwalior or Jeypoor, excited the hopes of the insurgents, the current took an opposite direction. The Doab, in either case, was regarded rather as a line of transit than as a field of contest. Sir Colin Campbell, well acquainted with this fact, devoted a portion of his attention to the ghâts on the two great rivers. It became very important to check if possible the marching and countermarching of the rebels across the Doab; and several columns and detachments of troops were engaged in this duty during the month now under notice. The success of the few actual encounters depended very much on the course of events in Scindia’s dominions, narrated in the last chapter. When Gwalior fell into the hands of Tanteea Topee and his associates, all the turbulent chieftains in the surrounding districts displayed an audacity and hopefulness which they had not exhibited during the preceding month; but when Sir Hugh Rose reconquered that city, and replaced Scindia on his throne, timidity succeeded to audacity, misgiving to hopefulness.

The commander-in-chief, after his participation in the reconquest and pacification of Rohilcund, returned to his former quarters at Futteghur, where he remained until the second week in June. Throughout the month he was personally engaged in no hostilities; he was occupied either in studying how to give his heat-worn soldiers repose, or how best to employ those whose services in the field were still indispensable. The governor-general much desired his presence at Allahabad, to confer with him personally on the military arrangements necessary during the summer and autumn. It afforded a significant proof of the scattered position of the British forces, that during the first week in June there were no soldiers that could be spared to escort Sir Colin from Futteghur to Allahabad. Quiet as the Doab was, compared with its condition earlier in the year, there were still rebel bands occasionally crossing and recrossing it, and these bands would have hazarded much to capture a prize so important as the commander-in-chief of the Anglo-Indian army. He could not safely move without an escort, and he had to delay his journey until a few troops came in from Shahjehanpoor and other stations. While at Futteghur he caused a search to be made in the bazaars of that place and Furruckabad for sulphur, in order that any stores of that substance might be seized by and for the government. The rebels of the various provinces still possessed many guns; the chieftains and landowners still owned more weapons of various kinds than they chose to acknowledge to the government; there was iron for the making of cannon-balls; there were charcoal and saltpetre towards the making of gunpowder; but there was one ingredient, sulphur, without which all the firearms of the insurgents would be useless; and as sulphur was an imported article in India, the government made attempts to obtain possession of any stores of that substance that might be in doubtful hands. Percussion-caps, too, were becoming scarce among the rebels; and, the materials and machinery for making more being wanting, they were perforce superseded by the less effective matchlock.

The state of the Doab at that time is well told in connection with a journey made by Mr Russell. After the Rohilcund campaign was over, this active journalist looked about him to determine what was best worth seeing and describing, in reference to his special duties. If he went with or after Sir Colin to Allahabad, he would get to the head-quarters of politics, where very few stirring military operations were to be witnessed; if he went northeast into Oude, or southwest into Central India, he might, after much danger and difficulty, become involved in the movements of some flying column, ill assorting with the necessities of a lame man—for he still suffered from an injury by a kick from a horse. Mr Russell therefore resolved upon a journey through the Upper Doab from Futteghur to Delhi, and thence by Umballa to the healthy hill-station of Simla. He travelled by Bhowgong, Eytah, Gosaigunje, and Allygurh, meeting with ample evidence on the way of the ruin resulting from thirteen months of anarchy. Of the dâk bungalows or stations he says: ‘Let no one understand by this a pleasant roadside hostelry with large out-offices, spacious court-yard, teams of horses, and hissing ostlers; rather let him see a mud-hovel by the way, standing out, the only elevation in the dead level of baked earth, a few trees under which are tethered some wretched horses, and a group of men’—whose dress consisted of little beyond a turban. From Bhowgong to Eytah the country looked like a desert; and by the roadside, at intervals of ten miles or less, were thannahs or police-stations—small one-storied houses, bearing traces of the destructiveness of the rebel leader which had so often swept the district. He crossed the Kallee Nuddee at a point where the Company had never yet introduced the civilised agency of a regular bridge. The gharry was pushed and dragged down a shelving bank of loose sand, and then over a rickety creaky bridge of boats—the native attendants making much use of the primitive distended bladders and earthen jars as floating supporters. Arrived at Eytah, he found the place little other than a heap of blackened ruins, with enclosures broken down and trees lopped off at the stem. Yet here were three Englishmen, civil servants of the Company, engaged in re-establishing the machinery of regular government. Mr Russell, like every one else, tried all the varieties of language to express adequately the tremendous heat of an Indian June. He left Eytah at two in the afternoon. ‘The gharry was like an oven; the metal-work burning so that it could not be borne in contact with the hand for an instant. The wind reminded me of the deadly blast which swept over us on the march to Futteghur that dreadful morning when we left Rohilcund. Not a tree to shade the road; on each side a parched, dull, dun-coloured plain, with the waving heat-lines dancing up and down over its blighted surface; and whirling dust-storms or “devils,” as they are called, careering to and fro as if in demoniac glee in their own infernal region. On such a day as this Lake’s men (half a century earlier) fell file after file on their dreadful journey. Could I have found shelter, I would gladly have stopped, for even the natives suffered, and the horses were quite done up; but in India, in peace and war, one’s motto must be “No backward step!”—so on we went.’ After passing through many small towns and poor villages, in which half the houses were either ruined or shut up, he reached Allygurh, where, ‘being late, there was nothing ready at the bungalow but mosquitoes.’ Pursuing his journey, he at length reached Delhi.

The imperial city was now wholly and safely under British control. Sentries guarded the bridge of boats over the Jumna, allowing no native to pass without scrutiny; the fort of the Selimgurh was garrisoned by a small but trusty detachment. The plan, once contemplated, of destroying the defences, had not been adopted; the majestic wall, though shattered and ball-pierced in parts, remained in other respects entire. The defences were, altogether, calculated to strike a stranger with surprise, at the height and solidity of the wall, the formidable nature of the bastions, the depth and width of the dry ditch, the completeness of the glacis, and the security of such of the gates as had not been battered down or blown in. Some of the streets of the city had escaped the havoc of war; but others exhibited the effects of bombardment and assault in a terrible degree, although nine months of peaceful occupation had intervened; houses pitted with marks of shot and bullet, public buildings shattered and half in ruins, trees by the wayside split and rent, doors and windows splintered, gables torn out of houses, jagged holes completely through the walls. Half the houses in the city were shut; and the other half had not yet regained their regular steady inhabitants. The mighty palace of the Moguls was nearly as grand as ever on the outside; but all within displayed a wreck of oriental splendour. The exquisite Dewani Khas, when Mr Russell was there, instead of being filled with turbaned and bejewelled rajahs, Mogul guards, and oriental magnificence, as in the olden days, was occupied by British infantry—infantry, too, engaged in the humblest of barrack domestic duties. ‘From pillar to pillar and column to column extended the graceful arches of the clothes-line, with shirts and socks and drawers flaunting in the air in lieu of silken banners. Long lines of charpoys or bedsteads stretched from one end of the hall to the other—arms were piled against the columns—pouches, belts, and bayonets depended from the walls; and in the place where once blazed the fabulous glories of the peacock’s throne, reclined a private of her Majesty’s 61st, of a very Milesian type of countenance.’

Surat.—From a View in the Library of the East India Company.

The old king still remained a prisoner at Delhi. The drivelling, sensual descendant of Tamerlane, shorn of everything that could impart dignity, occupied some of the smaller apartments of the palace, with a few of his wives, children, and grandchildren, near him. All were fretful and discontented, as they well might be: for they had nothing to see, nowhere to go, no honours to receive, no magnificence to luxuriate in. When interrogated by visitors concerning the early days of the Revolt, he was peevish, and wished to change the subject; and when his youngest begum, and his son Jumma Bukht, were induced to converse, the absence of family unity—if such a thing is possible in an oriental palace—was apparent enough.

Considered politically, Delhi had the great advantage, during the spring months, of being placed under Sir John Lawrence. The province which contained the once imperial city was detached from the ‘northwestern’ group, and made—with Sirhind, the Punjaub, and the Peshawur Valley—one compact and extensive government, under the control of one who, morally speaking, was perhaps the greatest man in India. It was necessary to reconstruct a government; but much careful consideration was needed before the principle of construction could be settled. If the peaceful industrious population would return to their homes and occupations, their presence would doubtless be welcome; but the neighbouring villages still swarmed with desperate characters, whose residence in Delhi would be productive of evil. Many of the better class of natives feared that the imperial city would never recover; that the injury which its buildings had received during the siege, the disturbance of trade by the hurried exit of the regular inhabitants, the enormous losses by plunder and forfeiture, and the break-up of the imperial establishment in the palace, had combined to inflict a blow which would be fatal to the once great Mogul capital. Delhi, nevertheless, had outlived many terrible storms; and these prognostications might be destined to fail.

Lahore.

One consequence of the steady occupation of Delhi during the winter and spring was the gradual departure of troops to other districts where they were more needed. Among these was one of the native regiments. The ‘gallant little Goorkhas,’ as the British troops were accustomed to designate the soldiers of the Sirmoor and Kumaon battalions, held their high reputation to the very last. The Sirmoor battalion had marched down to Delhi at the very beginning of the disturbances, and during more than twelve months had been on continuous duty in and near that region. The time had now come when a respite could be given to their labours. They took their departure to the healthy hill-station of Deyrah Dhoon. As they marched out of Delhi, headed by their commandant, Colonel Reid, they were escorted over the bridge by the 2d Bengal Europeans, who cheered them lustily, and inspirited them with a melody, the meaning of which they had perchance by this time learned—‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot.’ An officer, well familiar with these ‘jolly little Goorkhas,’ remarked on this occasion: ‘There is not in military history a brighter or purer page than the record of the services and faithful conduct of the Sirmoor Goorkha battalion during the past year. First in the field, always in front, prominent, and incessantly fighting throughout the entire campaign and siege-operations before Delhi, the regiment has covered itself with honour and glory. In our darkest days, there was never a whisper, a suspicion, the shadow of a doubt of the honest loyalty and fidelity of these brave, simple-minded, and devoted soldiers. When others turned traitors, robbers, assassins, these rushed without a moment’s hesitation to our side, fought the good fight, bled, and died, faithful to their salt, honourable and true to the last.’

The Punjaub—at Lahore and all the other cities and stations—was so steadily and watchfully governed, that no disturbances took place except of a very slight character—personally distressing, it is true, but not nationally or politically of any moment. One such was the following: On a certain day a number of disbanded sepoys, who had long before taken refuge in Cashmere, recrossed the frontiers, and attacked the Christians stationed at a place called Madhopore; they murdered a few, including children, under circumstances of great barbarity. No other reason could be assigned for this brutality than a vengeful thirst for European blood. Hastily they crossed again into Cashmere, taking with them a quantity of plunder. A demand was at once made upon the chief of Cashmere, Rumbeer Singh, to capture and give them up; which demand was shortly afterwards attended to, although he had exhibited a little remissness in this matter in one or two former instances. The Rajah of Cashmere was not wholly unsuspected, indeed, of unfavourable views towards the British; and, with a less firm man than John Lawrence at his elbow, he might possibly have made his mountain territory a retreat for rebels.

Sinde, the land of the Indus, remained firmly in the hands of Mr Frere and General Jacob, the one as civil commissioner and the other as military commandant. At one period during the month, however, Frere was called upon to settle a question of religious zealotry, which might have kindled into a flame if not promptly dealt with. A Mohammedan of respectable character came to him, while at Hydrabad, and complained of an inscription on the inner wall of an open-fronted shop belonging to the Christian Mission. The inscription comprised one or two quotations from the Koran, and an argument to disprove the divine authority of the Prophet of Islam, from the evidence of the Koran itself. It was prepared and written, in the Sindhi and Arabic languages, by the Rev. Mr Matchett; and the Rev. Mr Gell caused it to be conspicuously exhibited in the open shop where Bibles were sold or distributed. The complainant was one Gholam Ali, a Mohammedan lately returned from a pilgrimage to Mecca. He stated to Mr Frere that the inscription, visible to all the passers-by in the main bazaar of the city, was irritating and offensive to the Mohammedans. Mr Frere read the inscription; and in afterwards explaining to Lord Elphinstone the reasons which determined his decision on the subject, he said: ‘I am willing to be judged by any one who has any acquaintance with the ordinary feelings of a bigoted Mohammedan population as to the probable effects of such a placard on them. I feel confident that any such unprejudiced person would agree with me, that there was much danger of its causing an outbreak of fanatical violence; and holding that opinion, I cannot think that I should have been justified in allowing it to remain. It is quite possible it might never have caused any breach of the peace; but I did not think the present a time to try unnecessary experiments as to how much a fanatical native population will or will not bear in the way of provocation.’ Mr Frere wrote to the Rev. Mr Gell, the mission-superintendent, requesting him to remove the inscription; on the ground that, however well meant, it might produce more harm than good. This proceeding led to a violent outcry on the part of the missionaries and their supporters, and to an erroneous narrative forwarded to the government of Bombay—accusing Mr Frere of encouraging Mohammedanism and insulting Christianity. It was one of those numerous occasions, presented during the course of the Revolt and its suppression, in which the governing authorities had much difficulty in steering clearly through the opposite dangers of two religious extremes.

Sir Hugh Rose’s operations in Central India during the month of June were treated so fully in the last chapter, that little need be added here on the subject. The recapture of Gwalior was the great event; all the operations in Rajpootana, Bundelcund, Goojerat, and Holkar’s territory, were subordinate to it. When the month closed, General Roberts, with the ‘Rajpootana Field-force,’ was on the march from Nuseerabad to Jeypoor, to check the progress of the Gwalior fugitives in that direction. Brigadier Showers was at or near Futtehpore Sikri, guarding the Agra route. Major Ramsey was advancing from Rohilcund with the Kumaon battalion. The English residents at Jeypoor and Bhurtpore were actively engaged in supporting, so far as was practicable, the loyal tendencies of the rajahs of those two states, so as to enable them to resist the rebels if the latter were to enter either of those cities. The doubt was, not so much of the rajahs, as of the soldiery in their pay, whose fidelity could not wholly be relied on. The main body of Gwalior fugitives were at that time somewhere near Hindoun, a town about equidistant from Gwalior, Agra, and Jeypoor; whether they were about to advance to Ummerpore on the Jeypoor road, to Mhow on the Ulwar road, or to any other point, was not well known. Indeed, the rebels themselves seemed to be divided in opinion as to their future movements; they were looking around, to find some rajah, nawab, or nazim who would join them in rebellion; but those chieftains were becoming more and more cautious how they committed themselves in this way. The spectacle of rajahs blown away from guns, and nawabs hung from gallows, was by no means encouraging.

General Whitlock’s field-force, at the end of June, was distributed in various parts of Bundelcund, keeping in subjection the petty chieftains here and there in arms; for there was no longer anything like a formidable army of rebels opposed to him. Brigadier Carpenter, with three or four hundred men, and two guns, was at Kirkee. Major Dallas, with the 1st Madras N.I., was assisting the civil authorities in re-establishing the revenue and judicial departments. Colonel Reede, with two hundred men and two guns, was sent to look after the safety of Humeerpoor and its neighbourhood. Brigadier Macduff, with a portion of H.M. 43d foot, went to Calpee. Brigadier Munsey, with a small column of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, was sent to Nowgong, to protect a convoy of stores on their way from Saugor. The remainder of the force encamped for a while at Banda as head-quarters, having with them Narain Rao and Madhoo Rao as prisoners, a large number of guns, and a considerable amount of treasure and jewels captured from the rebels. Whitlock’s long-continued exertions, although not attended by any great battles, had gradually restored something like tranquillity to this distracted region. Bundelcund and the Saugor territory, from the Jumna to the Nerbudda, had for nearly twelve months been in a miserable condition. The various bands of mutineers passing from Dinapoor and elsewhere wrought great mischief; powerful villages preyed upon their weaker neighbours; and the self-installed nawabs and rajahs extorted every farthing they could get from the peasantry and towns-people. Many villages were completely deserted; many more had been burned to the ground, and the people plundered of all the grain and other property which they possessed. The lesson which the peaceful natives had received from the rebels was a severe one, calculated to teach them the advantages of regular government under British influence.

Among the many ‘field-forces’ which about this time were broken up, to relieve the troops from some of their exhausting labours in fiercely hot weather, was a small one called the ‘Satpoora Field-force.’ Satpoora is a town in Holkar’s Mahratta dominions, about seventy-five miles southeast of Indore, and very near the boundary of the Nagpoor territory. Satpoora also gives name to a range of mountains which, running east and west, separates the valley of the Taptee from that of the Nerbudda; and it was in this sense that the designation ‘Satpoora Field-force’ was given to a small body of troops collected for the defence of the region in question. Major Evans, commanding this force, took farewell of his men on the 22d of June. In an order or address, dated from his camp at Jalwana, he thanked Captain Sealey and the artillery, Captain Langston and the Rifles, Captain Baugh and the 9th Bombay N.I., Captain Briggs and the 19th, Lieutenant Latouche and the Poonah horse—being the components of his force. He made special mention of a certain encounter on the 11th of April; ‘when the insurgents, posted in positions from which they supposed they could not be driven, were at once attacked at three different points; and despite a most obstinate and deadly resistance, were signally defeated and dispersed.’ He proceeded in commendatory terms to state that ‘the effect on the enemy has been so dispiriting that they have never again dared to collect in force; the disaffected chiefs themselves wandering about in concealment. The force has therefore been disappointed in not being able again to shew their prowess, which all were so eager to do, and would have done so well, had opportunity offered.’

Gujerat, the Guicowar’s territory—situated south of Rajpootana, and west of Holkar’s territory—had, it will be remembered, been most happily and effectively disarmed by Sir Richmond Shakespear, political resident at the court of the Guicowar; thereby lessening the probability of any hostile outbreak. Gujerat became subject, however, during this month, to one of those strange mysteries in which orientals so much delight. The lotus, and the chupatties, and the ‘something white,’ had had their day; and now arose the mystery of twigs. It was ascertained that twigs or small branches had been circulated from village to village in the province of Gujerat, as signals or watchwords; but nothing could be learned concerning their meaning. An ancient custom existed in many parts of India, of measuring the footprints with straws or twigs whenever a robbery had been committed, then forwarding them from village to village, until the measurement was found to implicate some one villager; after which the village was made responsible. This and many other ancient customs were referred to; but nothing appeared to throw light on the meaning of the twigs thus transmitted through Gujerat.

To assist in the maintenance of tranquillity in the Deccan, a small field-force, composed of troops selected from the Poonah division of the Bombay army, was made up, and placed under the command of Colonel Gall. Starting from Poonah, the colonel arrived at Aurungabad on the 8th of June, and resumed his march on the following day to Jaulnah, a military station in the northwest corner of the Nizam’s dominions. Large bands of Rohilla marauders, expelled from the city of Hyderabad by the Nizam’s troops, were known to be in various villages in the Jaulnah district; and it was deemed expedient to hold Colonel Gall’s force in readiness to watch and disperse these men, lest their machinations should assume a military form. A new cavalry corps named Beatson’s Horse assisted in this object. This corps, organised by and under the active officer of that name, consisted of recruits from various parts of the Deccan, for active service in any regions where their presence might be deemed most useful. At present, their quarters were at Jaulnah, where they were regularly picketed around the encampment at night. Arrangements were also made for strengthening the Jaulnah district with a wing of the 92d Highlanders, and with several guns.

Of the presidency of Bombay it may happily be said that—partly owing to the scarcity of the Poorbeah element in the native army, partly to the sagacious and energetic government of Lord Elphinstone—the curse of rebellion was rendered very little apparent. Sinde, placed temporarily under that presidency, was well looked after by Mr Frere; Gujerat was safe under Sir Richmond Shakespear; Rajpootana was watched by the vigilant eye of General Roberts; while the northern Mahratta states, so far as they were subject to Bombay influence, were under the care of Sir Robert Hamilton.

Certain occurrences in the South Mahratta country, however, deserve to be noticed both in their political and their military phases.

Nothing is more certain than that many of the insurgent bodies in India rose in arms on account of personal or local matters, bearing little relation to the great military revolt, or to the so-called national rebellion. The derangement of regular government furnished opportunity for those who had real or assumed grievances. An example of this kind was furnished in the South Mahratta country. The natives of one of the least known districts south of Bombay had been in the habit of cutting down trees wherever they pleased, for the purpose of planting the cleared ground with various kinds of grain. The Bombay government at length put a stop to this wholesale destruction of timber. This stoppage was looked upon by the natives as an infringement of their ‘vested rights.’ A mischief-maker—one of the many usually at hand when the populace are excited—appeared in the person of the Rajah of Jumbote, a place southwest of Belgaum. He believed, or persuaded the people to believe, that Nena Sahib held Poonah with a large force; that the British troops were kept in check almost everywhere; and that it was a favourable time for a rise against the constituted authorities who held sway there. Another cause for disaffection arose out of the Hindoo custom of adoption; and this was felt in the South Mahratta country as in other parts of India. Many circumstances arose during the Revolt, shewing that the natives are familiar with and attached to this custom. When a prince, a chief, or a landowner, had no legitimate heir, it was customary for him to name a successor or heir, generally from among his kinsmen. So long as the East India Company had no territorial rights in a particular province or region, there was no motive for interfering with this custom; but self-interest afterwards stepped in, in a way that may be very easily explained. The Company, we will suppose, made a treaty with a native prince, to the effect that a certain state or a certain revenue should belong to him ‘and his heirs for ever.’ If he had no legitimate heir, the Company was tempted to seize the golden prize after his death, under the plea that the adopted son was not a true representative. A Hindoo custom was interpreted in an English sense, and, being found wanting, was disallowed; thereby enriching the Company. English lawyers found no difficulty in supporting this course of proceeding, because it was consistent with English law. It was not, however, until the governor-generalship of the Marquis of Dalhousie, that this kind of confiscation was extensively acted on; and hence the interval between 1848 and 1858 was marked by much more irritation among native princely families, than had been before exhibited in connection with this particular subject. Be it right or wrong, thus to interpret a Hindoo usage by an English test, the history of the Revolt plainly shewed that many of the bitterest enemies of the government were persons whose domains or revenues had been disturbed by a refusal of the Company to acknowledge the principle of adoption in heirship. The miscreant Nena Sahib, the spirited but unscrupulous Ranee of Jhansi, many of the princes of the house of Delhi, and others whose names and deeds have often been recorded in these pages, had—for some years preceding the outbreak—brooded over their real or fancied wrongs in some such matters as these. Is it matter for surprise that they welcomed a day of revenge—a day that might possibly restore to them that of which they deemed themselves unjustly deprived?

The Rajah of Nargoond was one of those to whom, in a minor degree, this principle applied. He was a South Mahratta prince, holding a small territory eastward of Dharwar—separated from Bombay by the once disturbed Kolapore district. Being one of the tributaries to the Bombay government, he petitioned for leave to adopt an heir to his raj or rajahship; and the result of this petition was such as to render him a bitter enemy. His enmity made itself apparent about the date to which this chapter relates, in intrigues with the malcontents around him. A ruthless murder brought matters to an issue. Mr Manson, political agent for the South Mahratta country, having cause to suspect the rajah, set out from Belgaum to seek a personal interview with him, in the hope of dissuading him from rebel movements. They had been on terms of intimacy, which seemed to justify this hope. On the evening of the 29th of May, Mr Manson reached Ramdroog—the chieftain of which advised him to be on his guard, as the Rajah of Nargoond could not be relied on. The unhappy gentleman, believing otherwise, pushed on towards Nargoond. That same night his palanquin was surrounded by a body of the rajah’s troops at Soorbund, fifteen miles from Nargoond, and the political agent was foully murdered, together with most of his escort.

The Bombay government at once issued orders to attack the insurgents, and deal severely with the disaffected chieftains. It had been already ascertained that in the Dharwar collectorate, besides the Rajah of Nargoond, there were Bheem Rao of Moondurg, and the Desaee of Hembegee, to be confronted. The South Mahratta country, being near the boundary-line between the Bombay and Madras presidencies, had facilities for receiving small bodies of troops from two directions, to quell any disturbances that might arise. A Madras column, setting out from Bellary under Major Hughes, proceeded northward, and invested the stronghold of Bheem Rao at Kopal or Copal. A message was sent to this chief, giving him three hours to remove the women and children from the place. He returned no answer; whereupon a cannonade was opened. A breach was made practicable; a storming-party entered; the rebels gave way at every point; and very speedily the town and fort were in Major Hughes’s possession. Bheem Rao himself, as well as Kenchengowda, the Desaee of Hembegee, were among the slain on this occasion. While Hughes was thus occupied at Kopal, a small column of Bombay troops was engaged in another part of the South Mahratta country. Three or four hundred men, with two guns, started from Belgaum under Captain Paget, and joined a party of Mahratta horse under Colonel Malcolm at Noolgoond. They advanced on the 1st of June to Nargoond, the stronghold of the rebel rajah. This stronghold consisted of a fortress on the summit of a rock eight hundred feet high, with the town at its base. A reconnaissance being made, it was found that nearly two thousand rebels were encamped about a mile out of the town; and the rajah could be seen, on an elephant, brandishing his sword. Malcolm sent on the Mahratta horse to commence the attack; with the two guns, two companies of the 74th Highlanders, and one of the 28th Bombay infantry, to support. Of fighting there was scarcely any; the rebels very soon fled from the plain and the town, and left them in the hands of Malcolm. The rock-fortress, however, still remained unconquered. Early in the morning of the 2d, a storming-party was sent to ascend the steep and rugged pathway which led up to the gate of the fortress, prepared to blow it open with powder. Only one rebel was visible; and after a couple of rifles had been fired at him, the gate was forced open and an entrance obtained. Four men, the only occupants of the fortress, threw themselves over a precipitous wall in a panic terror, and were dashed to pieces—either not understanding or not believing the promise of quarter offered to them.

Kolapore.

Thus fell the fortress of Nargoond, which had been regarded as a formidable stronghold ever since the days of Tippoo Saib. The rajah fled early in the fight, with seven of his principal followers. Mr Souter, police-superintendent at Belgaum, knowing the rajah’s complicity in the murder of Mr Manson,[[182]] set out in pursuit of him. At sunset on the 2d, the rajah and his followers were discovered skulking in a belt of jungle on the banks of the Malpurba, near Ramdroog; all but one were captured, just as they were about to start for Punderpore. They were sent to Belgaum, to be tried by a special commission. As to the rajah, the last hour of this wretched man was marked by very unseemly circumstances. On the 11th of June he was brought to trial, before Captain Schneider, political agent at Belgaum. He was found guilty of the crimes imputed to him, and was sentenced to be hanged on the next day. Early in the morning of the 12th, two companies of H.M. 56th, and two of the 20th Bombay native infantry, marched into Belgaum from Dharwar to afford a guard during the execution. When the last hour was approaching, the rajah begged hard to be blown from a gun, as a less degrading death than hanging; but the authorities on the spot were not empowered to accede to this application. The gallows was erected, and the hanging effected; but the rope broke, and the wretched man fell to the ground, where an undignified struggle took place between him and his executioners. The extreme sentence of the law was at length carried out, but not without evidences of mismanagement that added to the painfulness of the whole scene.

In connection with the affairs of the Bombay presidency generally, a few observations may be made on the state of the native army. One of the questions that pressed upon the authorities during many months bore relation to the treatment of the disarmed sepoy regiments—regiments which, though disarmed for suspicious conduct, had not so far committed themselves as to receive any more severe punishment. In the Punjaub Sir John Lawrence was troubled with the safe keeping of many thousands of these men; he dared not re-arm them, for their fidelity was more than doubtful; and he would not disband and dismiss them, lest they should swell the ranks of the rebels. Lord Elphinstone, governor of Bombay, was affected by this difficulty only in a small degree, because the mutineers in the Bombay army were few in number. A proceeding took place, however, in the month now under notice, which will illustrate one of the modes adopted of dealing with these dangerous incumbrances. It will be remembered[[183]] that in the early part of August 1857 many parts of the South Mahratta country were thrown into agitation by the appearance of mutiny among certain of the Bombay native troops. Kolapore, Poonah, Satara, Belgaum, Dharwar, Rutnagherry, and Sawunt Waree were the chief places affected; a plot was discovered, in which some of the troops were leagued with certain Mohammedan fanatics—discovered in time to prevent the massacre of numerous Europeans. The 21st and 27th regiments were two of those implicated; or rather some of the companies in those regiments; while other companies, not actually detected in the conspiracy, were simply disarmed. In this disarmed state the men remained more than ten months, watched, but not treated otherwise as culprits. At length a settlement of their treatment was effected. Lord Elphinstone and his council decided as follows: That the native commissioned officers, present when the disarming took place, should be dismissed from the army, unless they could bring forward special proofs of fidelity—that of the native non-commissioned officers, the elder should be expelled, and the younger reduced to the ranks—that the sepoys or privates should not be expelled unless special grounds were assignable in their disfavor—that the 21st and 27th regiments should be formally erased from the Bombay army list, to mark with some stigma the conduct of those regiments—that two new regiments, to be called the 30th and 31st infantry, should be formed, with a rank lower in dignity than that of the other native infantry regiments of the Bombay army—that all the privates of the (late) 21st and 27th, with excepted instances, and such native officers as could clear themselves from ill charges, should form the bulk of the two new regiments—finally, that the vacancies in the list of officers (subadars, jemadars, havildars, naiks) should be filled by chosen sepoys who had worthily distinguished themselves in the campaigns of Rajpootana and Central India. Lord Elphinstone, in his order in council relating to this matter, dwelt upon the disgrace which had been brought upon the Bombay army by the misdeeds of some of the men of the late 21st and 27th regiments; adverted to the terrible deaths which most of them had met with in the Kolapore region; exhorted the rest to beware how they listened to the solicitations and machinations of traitors; and added: ‘The Governor in Council trusts that the 30th and 31st regiments will, by their future conduct, shew their determination to render themselves worthy of the leniency with which they have been treated, and to wipe out the stain which the crimes of the 21st and 27th have left upon the character of the Bombay army; so that the recollection of their past misdeeds may be as effectually effaced from the minds of men, as their former numbers will be erased from the roll of the army.’

Another instance, somewhat analogous to this, was presented in the Punjaub. During the early days of the Revolt, the 36th and 61st Bengal regiments at Jullundur, and the 3d at Phillour, were among those which mutinied. Some of the sepoys in each, however, remained free from the taint; they stood faithful under great temptation. At a later date even these men were disarmed, from motives of policy; and they had none but nominal duties intrusted to them. At length Sir John Lawrence, finding that these men had passed through the ordeal honourably, proposed that they should be re-armed, and noticed in a way consistent with their merits. This was agreed to. About three hundred and fifty officers and men, the faithful exceptions of three unfaithful regiments, were formed into a special corps to be called the Wufadar Pultun or ‘faithful regiment.’ This new corps was to be in four companies, organised on the same footing as the Punjaub irregular infantry; and was to be stationed at some place where the men would not have their feelings wounded and irritated by the taunts of the Punjaubee soldiery—between whom and the Hindustani sepoys the relations were anything but amicable. Any of the selected number who preferred it, might receive an honourable discharge from the army instead of entering any new corps. The experiment was regarded as an important one; seeing that it might afford a clue to the best mode of dealing with the numerous disarmed sepoys in the Punjaub.

The Bombay presidency was not so closely engaged in political and military matters as to neglect the machinery of peaceful industry, the stay and support of a nation. Another of those paths to commerce and civilisation, railways, was opened for traffic in India in June. It was a portion of a great trunk-line which, when completed, would connect Bombay with Madras. The length opened was from Khandalla to Poonah; and this, with another portion opened in 1853, completed a route from Bombay to Poonah, excepting a long tunnel under the range of hills called the Bhore Ghauts, which was not expected to be completed until 1860. On the day of ceremonial opening, a journey was made from Bombay to Poonah and back in eighteen hours, including four hours of portage or porterage at the Bhore Ghauts. There were intermediate stations at Kirkee and Tulligaum. The Company organised a scheme including conveyance across the ghauts, by palkees and gharries, as part of their passenger contract. An instructive index to the advancing state of society in India was afforded by the fact, that one of the great Parsee merchants of Bombay, Cursetjee Jamsetjee, was the leading personage in the hospitalities connected with this railway-opening ceremonial.

A few remarks on the sister presidency, and this chapter may close.

If Madras, now as in former months, was wholly spared from fighting and treason, it at least furnished an instance of the difficulty attending any collision on religious matters with the natives. The Wesleyan missionaries had a chapel and school in the district of Madras city called Royapettah. Many native children attended the school, for the sake of the secular instruction there given, without becoming formal converts. One of them, a youth of fifteen or sixteen, mentioned to the Rev. Mr Jenkins, the Wesleyan minister, his wish to become a Christian; it was found on inquiry, however, that the parents were averse to this; and Mr Jenkins left it to the youth whether he would join the mission or return to his parents. He chose the former course. Hereupon a disturbance commenced among the friends of the family; this was put down by the police; but as the youth remained at the mission-house, the religious prejudices of the natives became excited, and the disturbance swelled into a riot. A mob collected in front of the mission-house, entered the compound, threw stones and bricks at the house, forced open the door, and broke all the furniture. Mr Jenkins and another missionary named Stephenson, retreated from room to room, until they got into the bathroom, and then managed to climb over a wall into another compound, where they found protection. It was a mere local and temporary riot, followed by the capture of some of the offenders and the escape of others; but it was just such a spark as, in other regions of India, might have set a whole province into a flame. The missionaries, estimating the youth’s age at seventeen or eighteen years, claimed for him a right of determining whether he would return to his parents (who belonged to the Moodelly caste), or enter the mission; whereas some of the zealots on the other side, declaring that his age was only twelve or thirteen, advocated the rightful exercise of parental authority. The magistrates, without entering into this question of disputed figures, recommended to the missionaries the exercise of great caution, in any matters likely to arouse the religious animosity of the natives; and there can be little doubt that, in the prevailing state of native feeling, such caution was eminently necessary.