But there were still days of peril between the Sutlej and the Indus, and over the Indus; and before carrying the reader with us to Delhi, to witness the final strife there, it will be as well to note in passing the tragic incidents at Lahore and Peshawur.
The disarmed Hindostanees at Meean Meer, near Lahore, writhed under the degradation which it had been so necessary to inflict upon them. Frequent reports reached the brigadier that one or more of the regiments intended to break out and run away, but day after day passed, and there were no signs, and only the usual precautions were taken. At length, however, the 26th Native Infantry tried the experiment, and their fate proved an example to discourage the other regiments. On the 30th of July, at mid-day, they broke out. They fled up the left bank of the Ravee. Fortunately, the deputy-commissioner at Amritsir was Mr. Frederick Cooper. As soon as he heard of the flight of the 26th, he got together some Punjabee horse and foot, and after a severe march, struck the trail of the mutineers. He found them in sorry plight. They had swum the river or floated over on pieces of wood, and were lodged on an island about a mile from the shore. By stratagem he got them all from the island, and had them secured with cords. Then they were escorted to the police-station at Ujnalla, six miles distant, and before they arrived the Sikh infantry came up. There were 282 prisoners. Sending his Hindostanee troopers back to Amritsir, Mr. Cooper prepared to execute the whole. On the 1st of August they were led out in batches of ten; their names were taken down; they were marched to the place of execution. Two hundred and thirty-seven were so executed, and forty-five were found dead in the gaol. All the bodies were thrown into a dry well by men of the lowest caste, and Cooper wrote, "there is a well at Cawnpore, but there is also a well at Ujnalla." To read of this execution in cold blood makes one shudder; but those who have studied the state of the Punjab at that moment will agree with Mr. Montgomery, that the punishment so sternly inflicted by Mr. Cooper was "just and necessary." Sir John Lawrence congratulated him on his success, though privately acknowledging that his despatch was "nauseous." Mr. Montgomery wrote at the time—"All honour to you for what you have done; and right well you did it;" and in 1859 solemnly reviewed and justified the execution. Lord Canning approved.
The drama at Peshawur was equally serious and bloody. In the middle of August there came a holy man, who sat himself down at the mouth of the Khyber Pass, hoisted the green flag, and preached what Colonel Edwardes calls a "crescentade." "The most evident restlessness," writes Colonel Edwardes, in his report, "pervaded the disarmed regiments; arms were said to be finding their way into the lines in spite of all precautions, and symptoms of an organised rise began to appear; General Cotton, as usual, took the initiative. On the morning of the 28th of August he caused the lines of every native regiment to be simultaneously searched, the Sepoys being moved out into tents for that purpose; swords, hatchets, muskets, pistols, bayonets, powder, ball, and caps, were found stowed away in roofs, and floors, and bedding, and even drains; and, exasperated by the discovery of their plans, and by the taunts of the newly-raised Afridi regiments, who were carrying out the search, the 51st Native Infantry rushed upon the piled arms of the 18th Punjab Infantry, and sent messengers to all the other Hindostanee regiments, to tell them of the rise. For a few minutes a desperate struggle ensued; the 51st Native Infantry had been one of the finest corps in the service, and they took the new Irregulars altogether by surprise. They got possession of several stand of arms, and used them well. Captain Bartlett and the other officers were overpowered by numbers, and driven into a tank. But soon the Afridi soldiers seized their arms, and then began that memorable fusilade which commenced on the parade ground at Peshawur and ended at Jumrood. General Cotton's military arrangements in the cantonment were perfect for meeting such emergencies—troops, horse and foot, were rapidly under arms and in pursuit of the mutineers. Every civil officer turned out with his posse comitatus of levies or police, and in a quarter of an hour the whole country was covered with the chase." By these means the regiment was in thirty-six hours "accounted for." It was 871 strong. The example sufficed. The disarmed regiments were paralysed by the sudden retribution. Peshawur was stronger than ever.
At the beginning of August it had been resolved to make a supreme effort to dispose of Delhi. Nicholson's column, growing stronger at every step, had already started from Amritsir. A first-class siege train was prepared in the arsenals of Philour and Ferozepore. It consisted of four 10-inch mortars, six 24-pounders, eight 18-pounders, and four 8-inch howitzers, with ample supplies of ammunition. Thus there were en route for Delhi a powerful column and a splendid siege train. General Wilson's plan meanwhile was to act on the defensive. He therefore confined himself to repelling attacks on our position, and to protecting his communications with Kurnaul. Twice or thrice the enemy tried to bridge the waterways covering the flank of the Great Road, and so get to Alipore, and clutch at convoys. But they failed. Three or four times during the month of August they assailed the ridge, but their failures were costly to them. On the 7th one of their magazines blew up, and it is said that 500 men perished in the explosion. On the 8th they again tried to plant a battery at the house called Ludlow Castle, opposite our left front. General Wilson resolved to have it. At four in the morning of the 12th Brigadier Showers led a strong column of infantry down from the ridge, and so well did he manage that he surprised the enemy, overpowered him, killed several hundred, and captured and brought off four guns. On the 13th of August Nicholson's column marched into camp. It consisted of the 52nd Foot, half the 61st Foot, the 2nd Punjab Infantry, and Bourchier's battery. There were on the way the 4th Punjab Infantry, half the 1st Belooch Battalion from Scinde, three companies of the 8th Foot, and several score recruits. Beside these, the general had to wait for the siege train. Sir John Lawrence could do no more. These were the last batches of troops he could spare. They mustered about 4,200 men, of whom 1,300 were Europeans.
In the meantime, alarmed by news of the coming siege-train, the mutineers sent out 6,000 men and 16 guns, under Bukt Khan, of Rohilcund, to capture the train. Hearing this, Nicholson girded himself up for a stroke at them. They moved out on the 24th; he started on the 25th, with 1,600 infantry, 500 horses, and 16 guns. The enemy had marched to Nujuffghur by the Rhotuck road. The Sepoy position consisted of a serai in their left centre, where they had four guns; a village in rear on each flank; a third village, and the town of Nujuffghur. In their rear ran a canal, crossed by a single bridge, over which they had come from Delhi. Nicholson determined to carry the serai, thus breaking the left centre of the line; then swinging round his right, to sweep the enemy's line of guns, and, if possible, cut him off from the bridge. This plan was energetically carried out. Detaching the 1st Punjab Infantry, under Lieutenant Lumsden, to drive the enemy out of Nujuffghur, and Blunt to watch the left, Nicholson arrayed the 1st Bengal Fusiliers, the 61st Foot, and the 2nd Punjabees against the serai. There was a crash of musketry, down came the bayonets, and with a fierce cheer on dashed the line. The Sepoys fought well, and some crossed bayonets with our men; yet they could not stand against the impetuous onset, and the serai and guns were won. Changing his front, Nicholson now turned the line of the remaining guns of the enemy, and advanced. The Sepoys, although strongly posted, seeing the bridge in danger, made for it at full speed, and crowded over, pursued by the fire of our artillery. They succeeded in getting away with three guns, leaving thirteen in our possession, captured on the field. We also took their camp and baggage, horses and camels and seventeen full waggons of ammunition. In the meantime Lumsden had cleared the rebels out of Nujuffghur, and was moving up to join the main body, when he was ordered to drive a band of Sepoys out of a village into which they had thrown themselves when cut off from the bridge. Having no retreat, these men fought desperately. The 61st were sent up, but these, too, suffered heavily before the village was taken. Halting near the bridge, the sappers blew it up—an important service—and the troops, who had been afoot all day, slept on the ground without food. By such an exploit did Nicholson signalise his arrival before Delhi.
The fate of Delhi was drawing nigh. The old king, after he learned the truth—a long time kept from him—about the battle of Nujuffghur, suffered alike from impotent anger and impotent despair. He felt that we must win; and he felt rightly. The last reinforcements came up in the first week of September, and with them the siege train. There was now no time to lose. Cholera and ague were rife in our camp. Not only the malaria from the swamps, but the fetid odours from dead cattle were more fatal than the shot of the enemy. Out of 11,000 men, more than a fourth were sick. Everything—the feverish state of the Punjab, the unhealthiness of the camp—made it imperative on General Wilson to take Delhi. He had powerful assistants. Baird Smith was there to direct the engineering operations; Nicholson to impel and guide; Hodson and Chamberlain and Norman to apply the spur, if it were needed. At the back of all, the commanding voice of Sir John Lawrence could be heard from the Punjab. Delhi must be taken out of hand. Thus the month of August closed, and September began the fourth of the mutiny and the third of the siege. The crowning act is a little story by itself, and must have a separate chapter.
