VII.
DILKHOOSHA.
While we lay in that camp keeping guard over the river we were joined by another young officer, and an incident occurred to all three of us which was, to say the least, mysterious. Our bawarchi, or cook, was a Hindustani Musalman, and we had every reason to be satisfied with his culinary performances, till one morning after breakfast, when both of my companions who had sat down to that meal in perfect health and with hearty appetites, suffered from sudden nausea. As I was not similarly affected, and had eaten the same food with them, it did not occur to us to suspect foul play. However, the same thing happened more than once; and at last, on one occasion, we were all three violently sick almost immediately after our morning repast. This was altogether too suspicious: so, since a careful inspection of our copper pots and pans showed that they were not in fault, having been recently tinned, we came to the conclusion that an attempt was being made to poison us. Here was a pretty state of affairs. If we dismissed the bawarchi it was hopeless to think of getting a substitute for him. We should have had to starve, or trust to the hospitality of our men for chapatties, such as they themselves eat. Something had to be done, however, and this is what we did. A sentry was placed over the cook during the time that he was engaged in preparing our food, and he was ordered to keep a sharp eye on that individual, and to confiscate and bring to me any condiment or other material which he might propose to use that was not manifestly harmless. These were not the orders which the cook thought were given to the sentry. He was, with much emphasis, given to understand that the Sikh who stood over him with a naked tulwar had been directed to smite off his head the moment he detected any suspicious act; and as he knew that nothing would please the grim disciple of Nanuk better than to carry out such instructions at the expense of a follower of the Arabian Prophet, his lot at once ceased to be a happy one. In fact, it was very much the reverse, and it became quite interesting to observe his proceedings under the terror of the sword of Damocles, which now hung over him. With his sleeves carefully rolled up above his elbows he squatted before the three small sloping hollows in the ground with sides and backs of stones, which formed his kitchen range, and carried on his operations in fear and trembling; for close behind him stood the vigilant Sikh. Whenever he glanced upwards he could not avoid seeing the blue steel of the sharp curved blade; and sometimes the sentry, willing to amuse himself, would frown wickedly, and peer into a degchi as if he detected something wrong. At such critical moments the wretched creature would fairly grin with fright, as with chattering teeth and supplicating hands he resigned himself to the worst. Then would the scowling Sikh growl out a gruff khabardar![11] and tell him to go on with his work.
Our suspicions may have been unjust; and the fact may have been only a coincidence. Nevertheless it was a fact that no more unpleasant symptoms attacked any of us after our meals. On the whole, we thought it fair to give the cook the benefit of the doubt; and we seized the first opportunity of dispensing with his services.
We were beginning to flatter ourselves that the watch on the Ganges kept by our police auxiliaries was altogether too stringent for the enterprise of the rebels; but we were mistaken. It so happened that one morning Sandeman and I rode round the picquets together. For some distance all was apparently quiet on the river; and no report of anything unusual was made by any of the police posts. We had just arrived close to one of them, when to our astonishment we suddenly came upon the broad and fresh track of a considerable number of horses and camels, clearly marked on the soft wet soil, and leading inland from the river straight past and immediately under the high ground on which the picquet was posted. We could hardly believe our eyes. It was quite clear that within a few hours a crossing had been effected by some two or three hundred mounted men, right under the noses of the police, upon whose fidelity I had been instructed to rely, and who had carefully concealed the fact from me, if they had not actively aided the rebels. As soon as we struck the trail we followed it across the sand to the point where it emerged from the river, which at that point was not very wide. We were immediately greeted by a musket shot from a man half-concealed among the rushes on the opposite shore, and who must have been a very indifferent marksman, for he missed us. As he repeated his performance in less time than he could possibly have reloaded, we judged that another musket must have been handed to him by a confederate more effectually hidden than himself; and as we could not tell how many more might be skulking in the thick cover, we considered it expedient to retire from his neighbourhood, after having replied to his civilities with our revolvers, of course ineffectually. We then went up to the police post, and my first step was to disarm and make prisoners of the whole eleven men composing it; for their treachery was self-evident, and demanded no further enquiry.
There was a large village near by, and in it we found a man suffering from a gun-shot wound, which he said had been wantonly inflicted by one of the rebels as they passed the place early that morning. This was corroborated by other inhabitants of the village, so I considered myself justified in desiring the chief local representative of civil authority, who styled himself a Tahsildar, to accompany me to our camp, where I proposed to take care of him till higher authority should enquire into the propriety of his conduct in not sending me word of what had happened.
In the meantime I wrote with a pencil on some leaves torn out of my note book a short report to Sir John Inglis, commanding at Cawnpore, in which I detailed the circumstances proving the treachery of the police, and suggested that, if possible, they should be replaced by a military force. I also stated that since it was quite evident, both from the appearance of the track and from the testimony of the villagers, that the crossing had been effected in the early dawn, I considered it useless to make any attempt to pursue the party of rebels, who were said to be under the leadership of the Bala Rao, and to be making for Calpee, a place which, having several hours' start, they must already have nearly reached. I concluded by asking for orders as to the disposal of my prisoners; and sent off the despatch at once to Cawnpore.
On our way to camp the Tahsildar met with an accident, which, though serious enough at the time, very possibly saved his neck. He was riding a vicious country-bred over whom he had very imperfect control, and who backed into my horse with the result of causing a violent kicking match, at the end of which the unfortunate man found himself on the broad of his back on the ground with a broken leg. I jumped off, and found that both bones were broken half way between the knee and the ankle. No medical aid was available nearer than Cawnpore; so I had to do the best I could for him on the spot. I therefore cut some stems of bajra, or some similar crop which was growing close by; and then, placing myself on the ground before him and getting a purchase with one foot against his body, I laid hold of the injured limb by the ankle and hauled on it with all my strength till I had got the broken surfaces opposite each other, where other hands placed them in position. A portion of his turban was now wrapped next the skin, then a number of the sticks were laid close together all round the leg, and kept fast by cords; and we had rough and ready splints, which answered their purpose admirably. The patient was now carried on a charpoy back to his own house, where, after many days, he was seen to by a medical officer who dressed the limb in orthodox fashion, and who declared the original operation had been perfectly successful. I never heard that this Tahsildar had been hanged, as I have little doubt he would have been, if compassion for his crippled condition had not prevented me from pressing the case against him. The ten police men and their Thanadar were not so fortunate. A special officer was sent out by Sir John Inglis with full power to enquire into and dispose of their case. To him I explained the arrangements which I had made for watching the river. I showed him the track of the rebel party where it passed within fifty yards of the picquet. His investigation was over in an hour; and at the end of it he sentenced the whole eleven culprits to suffer death as the reward of their treason, and hanged them on one tree. He also informed me that he would report that all my arrangements had been judicious, and that no blame could attach to me or my men.
No further attempt was made by the rebels to cross the river; and indeed none would have been practicable, for General Walpole's Brigade had been moved up the road from Cawnpore, and effectually blocked the way. My party was, however, not relieved; but was allowed to remain where it was; and, as the days rolled on, seemed likely to become a fixture. We began to be apprehensive that we might be overlooked altogether, while preparations were being made by Sir Colin Campbell for the final advance upon Lucknow—a prospect that was far from pleasing—but it was not easy to see how it could be averted. In this perplexity I sought counsel from the Colonel of a regiment which passed our camp on its way to Cawnpore, and who, with some of his officers, lunched with us. He advised me to write to Major-General Mansfield, the Chief of the Staff, and bring our existence to his notice, telling him how long we had been detached from the regiment, which was now at the Alumbagh, and which would, if we were allowed to rejoin it, obtain an accession to its strength of three British officers and fifty sabres. "You will certainly get a wigging," said he, "but it is just possible that your party is really overlooked, and that your letter may effect what you wish. At any rate, a bold horseman must sometimes ride for a fall, if he hopes to get over a stiff place."
I thankfully took his advice and acted on it, and I certainly got the fall he had anticipated; for in due course came an oblong official letter from a staff officer of the Chief of the Staff—not by any means from the great man himself. In that document I was very deservedly rebuked for my presumption in having written direct to the Chief of the Staff, who, I was informed, was not in the habit of corresponding with junior subalterns as to the movements of their detachments. This "awful warning" I pinned conspicuously on the cloth wall of my tent, where to my mingled amusement and trepidation it was soon afterwards seen by the very officer who had written it. Whatever he may have thought of my flippant treatment of his effusion, he made no remarks, and shortly thereafter my detachment was relieved from its post and ordered back to Cawnpore. There I had the good fortune to be attached to the cavalry of Sir Colin Campbell's army, and to march with it towards Lucknow; and such was my luck that, on the 2nd March 1858, when the Commander-in-Chief attacked and captured the high ground at Dilkhoosha dominating the City, I actually found myself in command of the advanced party of the advanced guard; for that was the position of my troop that day. Immediately in rear of it was a squadron of the 9th Lancers, followed by more cavalry and by horse artillery. As we passed the Alumbagh where the head-quarters of our regiment were encamped, I well remember how delighted I felt to think that after all we had stolen a march upon it, and that—not to count that midnight affair near Unao—our troop was to have the honour of being the first to go into action. Well also do I remember the wistful look on the face of my gallant commanding officer, the late Captain Wale, as he watched us pass, and wished us good luck. We all knew that a fight was before us; and it did seem uncommonly hard on the regiment that, after having so long been posted at the very front, it should at the last moment be left, "planté la," by a detachment which had, so to speak, sneaked up from the rear.
When the head of the column had got about midway between the Alumbagh and Dilkhoosha a halt was sounded; and we took the opportunity of making a rapid breakfast of such eatables as we had stowed away in our holsters. During this period a disagreeable drizzling shower of rain did what it could to damp our spirits as well as our bodies; but when we again moved on it had ceased; having laid the dust for us, and given us a cool, pleasant day fit for a review.