A Narrative of the Siege of Delhi / With an Account of the Mutiny at Ferozepore in 1857

by Charles John Griffiths

Having no round-shot for the two 24-pounders, we were reduced to firing back on the city the shot of the same calibre hurled against us, and a reward of half a rupee per shot was paid by the commissariat to any camp-follower bringing in the missiles.

On one occasion I saw a party of native servants, carrying on their heads cooked provisions for the men on picket, wend their way up the slope from the camp. Two round-shot fired by the enemy struck the top of the ridge and rolled down the declivity. Here was a prize worth contending for, and the cooks, depositing the dishes on the ground, ran in all haste to seize the treasures. I watched the race with interest, and anticipated some fun, knowing that in their eagerness they would forget that the shots had not had time to cool. Two men in advance of the rest picked up the balls, and, uttering a cry, dropped them quickly, rubbing and blowing their hands. The remainder stood patiently waiting, and then, after a time, spent evidently in deliberation, two men placed the shot on their heads, and all in a body moved off towards the commissariat quarters to receive and divide the reward.

July 7.—On the morning of July 7, I accompanied a detachment of 150 men under command of a Captain to relieve the picket at the mound close to the ruins of Sir Theophilus Metcalfe's house. This mansion, built by the present baronet's father, was situated about 1,200 yards from the walls of the city, and surrounded by trees and gardens. At the outbreak of May 11, it had been plundered and burnt by the mutinous sepoys and badmashes, who also in like manner had destroyed every house belonging to the Europeans in the suburbs of Delhi and the adjoining cantonment. Of the murders that then took place I shall have something to say hereafter, when writing the history of a young school-fellow whose sister was killed by the insurgents.

From our position on picket we could see a short distance in front, the ground having been partially cleared of trees and undergrowth. A chain of double sentries was posted, and the utmost vigilance observed. We could hear the batteries opening on the ridge, while occasionally, as if to harass the picket, a 13-inch shell would burst either in our front or in our rear. The night passed quickly, and at daybreak, when visiting the sentries, I heard distinctly the bugles of the rebels sounding the reveille, succeeded by other familiar calls. It seemed strange to hear our own bugle-calls sounded by men who were now our enemies; and not only was this the case, but also the insurgents for some time wore the scarlet uniform of the British soldiers, and invariably to the end of the war gave the English words of command they had been taught in our service.

We were relieved from picket on the morning of the 8th, and returned to our camp, remaining quiet during the day. Executions by hanging took place every day, but after the first horrible experience nothing would induce me to be a spectator. The rain, which had begun on the 3rd, continued almost without intermission, our camp becoming a quagmire, and the muggy, moist atmosphere increasing the ravages of cholera amongst our unfortunate soldiers.

July 9.—At sunrise on the 9th, a terrific cannonade woke us out of our sleep; but, the main camp being some distance from the right of the ridge, we for a long time heard no tidings of what was going on. At 8 a. m. the bugles of the regiments on the right sounded the alarm, followed at once by the "assembly."

Some 200 men of my regiment, all that remained off duty, paraded in front of the tents, and received orders to march to the centre rear of the camp, in rear of the quarters of the General in command. Here we were joined by some companies of the 8th Regiment and a battalion of Sikhs, and, continuing our march, we halted near the tents of Tombs' battery of Horse Artillery.

Lying around and even among the tent-ropes were dead bodies of the enemy's cavalry, and a little way beyond, close to the graveyard, some men of the 75th were firing into the branches of the trees which surrounded the enclosure. Every now and then the body of a rebel would fall on the ground at their feet, the soldiers laughing and chatting together, and making as much sport out of the novel business as though they were shooting at birds in the branches of a tree.

How the native cavalry came there was at first inexplicable to us; but we were informed afterwards that a body of irregular horsemen, dressed in white, the same uniform as that worn by the 9th Irregulars on our side, had, with the greatest daring, an hour before dashed across the canal bridge and charged the picket of the Carabineers, making also for the two guns of Tombs' battery. The former, mostly young soldiers, had turned and fled, all save their officer and one sergeant, who nobly stood their ground. Lieutenant Hills, who commanded the two guns on picket, also alone charged the horsemen, cutting down one or two of the sowars.

Meantime the guns were unlimbered, but before they had time to fire, the enemy were upon them. Hills was struck down badly wounded, and was on the point of being despatched by a sowar, when Major Tombs, hearing the noise, rushed out of his tent, and seeing the plight his subaltern was in, fired his revolver at thirty yards and killed the sowar.