During the remainder of July there were two more actions. The Jhansi regiments entered Delhi on the 16th; our spies in the city warned the general of an impending attack; and on the 18th the fresh regiments began what they boasted should be a four days' fight. There was nothing in the combat to distinguish it from so many of its predecessors. The alarm sounded, our troops turned out; the Sepoys, swarming among the ruins about the Subzee Mundi, retired as soon as they were assailed, and our men followed them as far as prudence dictated, and then drew off. The Sepoys did not keep their promise. One day's fighting seemed to have satisfied them. On the 23rd they sallied from the Cashmere Gate, and tried to establish a battery near the house called Ludlow Castle; but they were sharply assailed by a force under Brigadier Showers, and driven into the city. Unfortunately, in trying to take their guns, the troops got too near the walls, and suffered accordingly. No other fighting of moment occurred for the rest of the month; but in the meantime there had been hot work in the Punjab.
General Wilson, looking for troops from the Punjab, had changed materially the system of warfare before Delhi. He resolved to make more secure the position on the ridge, and connected the isolated batteries with a continuous line of breast-works. He determined to confine himself as much as possible to a system of resistance, and not give the enemy the opportunities he appeared to covet of luring our columns under the fire of the walls. He established a system of reliefs, so that part of the force got some rest while the bulk was on duty. The result was that the discipline of the troops, which had been growing somewhat slack, was rendered more rigorous, and a higher tone was imparted to the whole body. Rest and food, at stated times, soon improved the health of the army. The great point was to stand fast until the remaining troops which could be spared from the Punjab should arrive. We have now to tell what detained them.
To all suggestions that the siege of Delhi should be abandoned, Sir John Lawrence had offered instant and peremptory resistance. He would rather have restored the Peshawur valley to the Afghans than have abandoned Delhi. As a measure of despair he had even contemplated and discussed the surrender of the valley. His wisest counsellors were vehemently opposed to the latter move; they would have preferred the raising of the siege. Happily neither measure was forced upon him. He was burdened with a vast responsibility, for by severing the electric wires the Sepoys had made him Governor-General of the Punjab and the North-West above Agra. Aided by men like Montgomery, and Edwardes, and Nicholson—supported by such unflinching lieutenants as Frederick Cooper, Reynell Taylor, Spankie, Barnes, and Forsyth—he was able to quell his own mutineers, and pour down on Delhi those reinforcements which enabled Wilson to take it by storm.
That brilliant invention, the movable column, had not been idle during the month of July. There were five regiments of infantry and two of cavalry still in arms. Six of these regiments were in stations where there was not a single European soldier. The problem was how to get their arms. It was resolved first to deal with the 58th Native Infantry at Rawul Pindee and the 14th at Jhelum. He had little difficulty with the 58th. At first they seemed inclined to resist, but soon yielded. The two companies of the 14th, however, fled. They were pursued by mounted Punjabees, and those that escaped were brought in by the villagers. At Jhelum there was a battle. Sir John had sent 260 of the 24th Foot, three guns, and 150 police, all under Colonel Ellice, to disarm the 14th. These were followed by 700 Mooltanees, partly mounted, and the two bodies joined on the 6th. On the 7th Ellice sent part of the Mooltanee horse to guard the river, and with the rest marched towards the station. The 14th had been called under arms, and as soon as they saw the Europeans moving towards them, they began to load. Then there was a dropping fire. Presently the Sepoys broke, the Mooltanees charged, and did some execution, but the mutineers got into their quarters, and defied the horse. The Mooltanee foot came up. These were beaten off. The guns arrived, and opened. The Sepoys, well sheltered, would not budge. Colonel Ellice then arrived with the 24th Foot, and forming a small column, carried the lines with the bayonet. Ellice being wounded at the head of his men, Gerard took command. The Sepoys fled into a fortified village and stoutly resisted every onset. When night fell the troops were obliged to retire, leaving behind a howitzer, which was taken by the enemy. In the night the mutineers retreated, but did not escape. Out of 500 men only fifty were not "accounted for." No fewer than 150 fell in action, 180 were captured by the police, and 120, who reached Cashmere, were surrendered. But we suffered a loss of 44 killed, and 109 wounded, of whom one-half were Europeans.
BLOWING UP OF THE CASHMERE GATE AT DELHI. (See p. [235].)
Nor was this the worst loss. There were two native regiments at Sealkote—a few score miles distant east of the Chenab. They had long been suspected. They might have been disarmed in May, when there were European troops in the station. Brigadier Brind, the commandant, a brave old officer, remonstrated against the withdrawal of the 52nd Foot and Bourchier's European battery to form the movable column. He did not like to be left with only Hindostanee troops. "He was requested," says Mr. Montgomery, "to remove the cause of alarm by disarming them. He did not see his way to do this, and the column marched on." Sir John Lawrence had directed the ladies of the station and the soldiers' wives and children to be sent to Lahore. The latter were marched to Lahore under escort; several of the former remained. Brigadier Brind kept up a show of confidence in the 46th Native Infantry and the wing of the 9th Cavalry in the station; but he knew they were mutinous in spirit. The wonder was they had not gone before. Perhaps they waited for a signal from Delhi, and there is some evidence that the signal reached the station simultaneously with the news of the fight at Jhelum on the 7th. Be that as it may, on the 9th all the native troops mutinied. The officers, roused from sleep, mounted and rode among the men, but found remonstrance useless. They all made for an old fort, which Tej Singh, a Sikh chief, had placed at their disposal. But only some escaped.
Nor was this all. The movable column was at Amritsir. Here were the 59th Native Infantry. They had shown no symptoms of disaffection; but on the 8th General Nicholson heard of the fight at Jhelum. He saw at once the peril of the moment, and the duty. On the 9th he disarmed the 59th. It was only done just in time. On the evening of that day in came a messenger from Lahore, telling of the mutiny at Sealkote, and directing Nicholson to march on Gordaspore and intercept the Sealkote men. Nicholson did not hesitate. Disarming and dismounting the men of the 9th Cavalry, who were at Amritsir, he set out on the night of the 10th for Gordaspore, and by daylight he had made twenty-six miles. On the 12th, certain information came that the mutineers had crossed the Ravee at Trimmoo Ghaut, a ferry on the river. Nicholson moved out at once, and by noon sighted the rebel vedettes, men of the 9th Cavalry. The whole had not got over, and some were still crossing. Covering his front with mounted Punjabee levies, mere recruits for Hodson's Horse, Nicholson moved up his guns and infantry. The Sepoys were behind a strip of deep water, passable only by a bridge. In their rear was the Ravee, growing wider and deeper every hour, for the snows were melting in the hills, and swelling all the streams. As Bourchier's guns went over the bridge, down came the men of the 9th at the charge; the levies fled; the Sepoy skirmishers ran up and opened a steady fire. But the ugly symptoms soon vanished. The Sepoys had no guns. They were not soldiers who could stand against the 52nd. In twenty minutes grapeshot, shrapnel, and rifle-balls silenced the fire of the rebel line. In half-an-hour the mutineers were in retreat, leaving three or four hundred killed and wounded on the field. Nicholson had no dragoons, or there the business would have ended. He caused his few Sikhs to pursue, and these captured all the baggage and stores which the enemy had brought to the left bank. In the river there was an island. To cross that night was impossible. In the night the river rose and caught the rebels in a trap. On the 11th they had been able to ford the stream; on the 13th it had risen several feet. The dawn found the enemy prisoners, with the swift flood of the Ravee rolling around them, and a relentless foe preparing the means of destroying them. Three days passed before boats could be procured. On the 16th all was ready. Covered by the fire of seven guns on the other bank, and headed by Nicholson, the 52nd swept on in line, and in a few minutes the mutineers went in a crowd to the rear. A few resolute men died around the gun; others were overtaken in fight and slain; a mob ran to the end of the island, and those who escaped the bayonet, and swam over the river, were captured by the villagers. Not more than a hundred got away into Cashmere, and these we compelled the Maharajah to surrender. Thus did John Nicholson break in pieces this horde of mutineers, and save the Punjab between the Jhelum and the Sutlej. On the 22nd the column was again at Amritsir. Three days afterwards it was again on the march, en route for Delhi, in earnest this time, for now the Punjab had been made secure by the disarming of nearly every Hindostanee regiment, and the raising of new levies among the Punjabees.