I will not attempt to describe the various fortunes of the four columns of assault. That story has been told once for all by Sir John Kaye; and it is not likely that any more full or clear or correct narrative will ever be written.
Full of triumph as we who remained outside were at the knowledge that the Kashmiri Gate and curtain had been successfully stormed, and that our flag was flying on the ramparts which had so long defied us, it was yet inexpressibly mournful to witness the long procession of "doolies" bearing the dead and wounded which streamed slowly back into camp. Many a gallant soldier that day gave his life for the honour of his Queen and country; but the loss that overshadowed all others was that of the valiant Nicholson, struck down with a mortal wound in the hour of victory while nobly exposing himself to almost certain death in the act of cheering forward his men, who were for a moment checked by a torrent of lead that swept the narrow lane up which they were advancing. His memory and his example will never be lost to the British Army, long and brilliant as is the roll of its heroes.
The strength of the four columns of assault was 3,660 men; of the Reserve column 1,500; or a total of 5,160. Opposed to us was a fortress "seven miles in circumference, filled with an immense fanatical Mussalman population, garrisoned by full 40,000 soldiers armed and disciplined by ourselves, with 114 heavy pieces of artillery mounted on the walls, with the largest magazine of shot, shell, and ammunition in the Upper Provinces at their disposal, besides some 60 pieces of field artillery, all of our own manufacture, and manned by artillerymen drilled and taught by ourselves."[5]
The casualties on our side that morning were 1,145 killed and wounded. The result of the day's fighting was that we had forced our way into a small corner of the City, and there "hung on by our teeth." Slight and precarious as was the grip which we had thus obtained on the throat of the enemy, it yet proved sufficient for eventual success; but there can be no dispute that for the next forty-eight hours the position was critical. The great City with its intricate network of narrow lanes crookedly piercing through masses of lofty brick-built houses—with its strong places such as the Magazine, the King's Palace, Selimgurh, and the Jumma Musjid—was yet unconquered and defiant; the roar of combat continued without ceasing. The General, Sir Archdale Wilson, worn out with illness and want of rest, and with the strain of long-continued anxiety, seemed to those around him to be losing heart and to be half inclined to abandon our dearly-earned footing within the walls, and to withdraw the troops once more to the old position outside. Worse than all, great stores of brandy and wine which had been cunningly left by the rebels exposed to the sight of our soldiers, fell into their hands, and the inevitable result followed. Numbers of our men eagerly swallowed the fiery poison; and those who had hitherto proved themselves heroes now wallowed in the gutters, helpless and imbecile. Most providentially the enemy did not seize upon that moment for a vigorous onslaught. If they had done so it would probably have been successful, and the British Empire in India would have staggered under a crushing and shameful blow from the worst and most persistent foe of its army, strong drink. Vigorous measures were, however, promptly taken. Working parties, strongly officered, were told off to destroy the bottles and empty the casks; and very soon all danger from this source was averted.
On the 16th an important step in advance was achieved. The magazine was taken with trifling loss; and though the small arms portion of it had suffered seriously from the gallant exploit of Willoughby, who had blown it up on the 11th of May, great stores of artillery munitions were found in it. Very promptly were mortars set in position within it to shell the Palace, which was not more than a quarter of a mile distant. Most interesting and beautiful was it to see the big shells, propelled by a mere spoonful of powder, issuing from their wide throats; and, after performing a slow and graceful curve, easily followed by the naked eye, fall within the dull red walls of the Palace. Then would be heard a deep roar and a crash as of falling masonry, often followed by loud yells of hurt or dismay.
The next important forward move was accomplished on the night of the 18th and early morning of the 19th, when our troops, steadily working their way from house to house and enclosure to enclosure, succeeded in seizing the Lahore bastion. From this moment the game was all up for the enemy. The old King and his people had cleared out of the Palace on the 18th, doubtless finding the place inconveniently lively, and on the 19th a general exodus from the City must have been accomplished.
Early on the morning of the 20th my Commanding Officer, Captain Sanford, was nowhere to be found. I was told that he had last been seen riding, followed by a single orderly, in the direction of the City. In a moment flashed on me, with the confidence of certainty, the thought that he must have gone on a scouting expedition into the City, to ascertain how far the enemy had evacuated it, and that he had not taken me, usually his inseparable companion, because he did not wish to expose me to the risks of a certainly hare-brained exploit. No sooner had I formed this idea than I summoned my personal orderly and went off in search of him. When we arrived at the City my surmise was confirmed. Sanford and his orderly had been seen riding in to the deserted streets beyond our sentries. So we followed his example, and, keeping an uncommonly bright look-out, started on the route which he was said to have taken. Truly the town was abandoned. Not a living creature did we see; but we had not gone many hundred yards before we met Sanford, briskly trotting back, his face radiant with joy. He had penetrated right through the City to the Delhi and Turkman gates on the south, and had chalked "Guide Cavalry" on them. With him I rode to the quarters of Sir Archdale Wilson, to whom he reported the fact that the whole place was evacuated by the enemy. Whether others had anticipated Sanford I know not; but I do not think that whatever news may have been brought in to our Intelligence Department by native spies, any Englishman had, before him, with his own eyes, witnessed the fact that Delhi was at last entirely in our power. At any rate his daring exploit was performed exactly as I have related it. Not many months subsequently he lost his life, as will be hereafter told, while undertaking, single-handed, a not dissimilar reconnaisance.
During the day our troops entered into full possession of the City. All the strong points, the Palace, Selimgurh, the Jumma Musjid, the bastions and the gates were occupied by them; and the latest, and, let us trust, the last, siege of Delhi came to an end.
All is well that ends well. It is always easy and not always unprofitable after an event to speculate as to what might have been the result if a different course of action had been adopted with the view of bringing it about. It is well known that General Barnard, yielding to the arguments of the ardent young officers of Royal Engineers, Greathead, Chesney, and Maunsell, aided by Hodson, had sanctioned an attempt to take Delhi by a coup de main on the morning of the 12th of June; and that if Brigadier Graves, the field officer of the day, had understood, or, understanding, had obeyed his instructions to reinforce the attacking column with the 1st Fusiliers, the assault would actually have come off. It is also known that about three weeks afterwards the General had again all but made up his mind to risk "the gambler's throw," when he first hesitated, and then decided to delay a little longer; that then he died of cholera; and that General Reed, who succeeded him, was compelled by broken health, after a few days, to resign the command into the hands of General Archdale Wilson; and that the latter never for a moment dreamed of doing more than holding his own position, far less of storming Delhi, till he had been reinforced by every available soldier that could be sent to him from the Punjab, and by the heavy guns and mortars of the siege train from Ferozepore.
It is certainly possible that if the intended assault had been delivered on the 12th of June it would have been successful. For my own part I have very little doubt on the subject. The battles of the Hindun Nuddee and of Badle-ka-Serai had severely shaken the morale of the enemy; and the very audacity of so daring and so prompt an attack by the united forces from Umballa and Meerut, each of which had, unsupported by the other, won so signal a victory, would have struck terror into the rebels and probably insured their defeat. On the other hand, the prospects of success three weeks later were not so hopeful. In the interval our numbers had not augmented, while those of the enemy had received considerable accessions. They had materially strengthened their defences; and had probably regained confidence in themselves.