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

by Charles John Griffiths

Passing thence through a gateway and over a swinging bridge, we entered the old fort of Selimgarh, built, like the Palace, on the banks of the river, its battlements, as well as those of the latter place on its eastern side, being washed by the waters of the Jumna. Several heavy guns and mortars were mounted on the walls of the fort, and we noticed one old cannon of immense size for throwing stone balls, but which was cracked at the muzzle, and evidently had not been used for centuries. The fort was full of large and commodious buildings, used afterwards for hospitals by our troops, the place itself, from its commanding situation open and separate from the rest of the city, being the healthiest place that could be found. There was a lovely view of the country on the left bank of the Jumna, while to the north and south we followed the windings of the broad river till lost to view in the far distance.

Descending from Selimgarh, we took our stand on the bridge of boats now deserted in its whole length, but over which, during the days of the siege, thousands of mutineers had marched to swell the rebel forces in Delhi. Thence we skirted along the banks of the river outside the walls, viewing on our way the houses of the European residents, built in charming situations close to the water's edge. These had been all entirely destroyed, gutted, and burnt; nothing but the bare walls were left standing, and the interiors filled with heaps of ashes. We thought of the wretched fate of the former inmates of these houses, most of whom had been mercilessly killed by the city rabble, urged on in their fiendish work by the native soldiers, of the regular army.

The mutineers of the 3rd Light Cavalry from Meerut had entered Delhi on May 11, crossing the Jumna by the bridge of boats, and, being joined by the city scoundrels, first wreaked their vengeance on the European residents who lived close by, and who, without any previous warning of the terrible fate in store for them, fell easy victims to the murderers. It made our blood run cold, when visiting the ruins of these houses, to think of the dastardly crimes which had been committed in and around the spots on which we were standing. Defenceless and unarmed, helpless in the hands of these human tigers, our unfortunate men, women, and children were immolated without mercy. Turning back, we entered the city by the Calcutta Gate, and walked along the ramparts by the riverside, past the walls of the magazine, till we reached the Water bastion. Here the destructive effect of our batteries during the bombardment was most apparent. Fired at the distance of only 180 yards, the guns had smashed the walls and ramparts to pieces, huge fragments had rolled down into the ditch, and the cannon in the battery were completely dismounted from the carriages, lying in confusion one on top of the other.

At the Kashmir Gate there was a heap of goods (consisting principally of clothes and rubbish) many feet high, which had been looted from the houses around. The guard at the gate had orders to allow no one to pass out with a bundle of any kind; and the consequence was an accumulation of material, chiefly worthless, which covered many square yards of ground. I have omitted all record of the plundering which up to this time, and for long afterwards, took place all over the city where our troops had penetrated. This account I have reserved for the last chapter, where full details of the loot of Delhi and the amount of prize-money accruing to the force will be found. September 21.—During the 21st I, in company with other officers, wandered over the heart of the city, continuing our perambulations south of the Chandni Chauk and penetrating into streets beyond, where the six days' fighting had taken place. The night before we had heard occasional shots fired at no great distance, and these were continued during the day and for some time afterwards.

Looting was going on to a great extent, both European and native soldiers engaging in the work; and though strict orders had been issued to prevent such licence, it was found impossible to check the evil. The shots emanated from these men, who, of course, went about well armed, and brooked no interference when in the act of securing booty. Altercations of a serious nature had taken place between the Europeans and Sikh soldiers, ending sometimes in blows, and often in bloodshed, when the two parties met in a house or were busy employed in dividing the spoil. However, in time, when most of the native troops had left Delhi, and the European regiments were quartered in walled enclosures with a guard at the gates to prevent egress, the looting on the part of the private soldiers ceased, and the prize agents were enabled to gather in the enormous wealth of the city without any trouble.

The portions of the town we passed through on that day had been pillaged to the fullest extent. Not content with ransacking the interior of each house, the soldiers had broken up every article of furniture, and with wanton destruction had thrown everything portable out of the windows. Each street was filled with a mass of debris consisting of household effects of every kind, all lying in inextricable confusion one on top of the other, forming barricades—from end to end of a street—many feet high. We entered several of the large houses belonging to the wealthier class of natives, and found every one in the same condition, turned inside out, their ornaments torn to pieces, costly articles, too heavy to remove, battered into fragments, and a general air of desolation pervading each building. Much of this wholesale destruction was, no doubt, attributable to the action of the sepoys and rabble of the city, who during the siege, and in the state of anarchy which prevailed during that period, had looted to their hearts' content, levying blackmail on the richer inhabitants and pursuing their evil course without let or hindrance. Still, that which had escaped the plundering and devastating hands of the sepoys was most effectually ruined by our men. Not a single house or building remained intact, and the damage done must have amounted to thousands of pounds.

We were quite alone in most streets; deserted and silent, they resembled a city of the dead on which some awful catastrophe had fallen. It was difficult to realize that we were passing through what had been, only a few days before, the abode of thousands of people. What had become of them, and by what magic influence had all disappeared? Not till days afterwards was the mystery solved.

The tai-khanas, or underground rooms of houses, scattered all over the city, were found to be filled with human beings—those who, by age or infirmity, had been unable to join in the general exodus which had taken place during the last days of the siege. Hundreds of old men, women and children, were found huddled together, half starved, in these places, the most wretched-looking objects I ever saw. There was no means of feeding them in the city, where their presence also would have raised a plague and many would have died; so, by the orders of the General, they were turned out of the gates of Delhi and escorted into the country. It was a melancholy sight, seeing them trooping out of the town, hundreds passing through the Lahore Gate every day for a whole week. We were told that provisions had been collected for their use at a place some miles distant, and it is to be hoped the poor creatures were saved from starvation; but we had our doubts on the subject, and, knowing how callous with regard to human suffering the authorities had become, I fear that many perished from want and exposure.

There were other objects also which raised feelings of pity in our minds. During our walks through the streets we caught sight of dozens of cats and tame monkeys on the roofs of the houses, looking at us with most woe-begone countenances, the latter chattering with fear. These, as well as birds of every description left behind in cages by their owners on their flight, literally starved to death in the houses and streets of the city. There was no food for such as these, and it is lamentable to think of the torture and suffering the poor pet creatures endured till death put an end to their misery.

Dead bodies of sepoys and city inhabitants lay scattered in every direction, poisoning the air for many days, and raising a stench which was unbearable. These in time were almost all cleared away by the native scavengers, but in some distant streets corpses lay rotting in the sun for weeks, and during my rides on duty, when stationed at the Ajmir Gate, I often came across a dead body which had escaped search.