Calcutta itself, for reasons more than once stated, was not likely to be materially affected by mutinous proceedings. The interests of the native towns-people, concerned in supplying the wants of a larger number of Europeans than resided at any other city in India, led them to prefer scenes of quiet, even if the Bengalee character had been more warlike than is its wont; while the frequent landing of British troops from other shores kept in awe such of the sepoy soldiers as still remained in arms. A naval squadron anchored in the Hoogly, with sufficient power of metal to batter the city to ruins if danger arose. The natives, except a few of fanatical character, were more disposed to seek for holiday than for war; and holiday occasionally fell to their share, in the proceedings of the British themselves. On one day, towards the close of November, there were 4500 British troops temporarily garrisoned at Calcutta, and 11 ships-of-war anchored in the river. The troops comprised H.M. 19th, 20th, 42d, 54th, 79th, and 97th regiments of foot, or portions of them, together with one battalion of the 60th Rifles, and one of the Rifle brigade. A review of most of these fine troops was held on the Calcutta volunteers’ parade-ground, before the journey to the upper provinces commenced. The Calcutta government commenced operations for reorganising the vast regions which had been thrown into confusion by the Revolt. A plan was sketched out for separating the divisions of Delhi and Meerut from the Northwest Provinces, and transferring them to the government of the Punjaub—in order that they might share in the peculiar system of executive rule which had been found to work well in the Punjaub, under the energetic control of Sir John Lawrence. The rest of the Northwest Provinces could not be permanently reorganised until the warlike operations had made further advance. Another proceeding on the part of the government was to send out a commission to the Andaman Islands, to examine how far they were suited as a penal settlement for rebels or traitors sentenced to transportation; the commission comprised naval and medical officers, who were empowered to select a spot healthy in situation and easily defended.
In the easternmost districts of India, mutiny shewed itself in small degree. It could hardly be other than slight, however; for the Hindustani troops were few in number, and the general population not ill affected. Three companies of the 34th Bengal native infantry, it will be remembered,[[125]] were stationed at Chittagong at the very beginning of the troubles in March and April; they not only remained faithful when the other companies of the same regiment became mutinous at Berhampore, but made a very high-flown declaration of their loyalty. After remaining ‘true to their salt’ throughout the whole of the summer and autumn, these three companies at length yielded to the general mania. They broke out into mutiny at Chittagong on the 18th of November, burnt their lines, blew up the magazine, looted the treasury, and commenced a search for Europeans. These latter escaped, chiefly in boats upon the river. The mutineers then released the convicts from the jail, and decamped. They moved northward, apparently tending toward Tipperah, where a petty rajah held his court. Directly this was known, Major Byng, commanding a Silhet native regiment, marched down from the hills, and met the mutineers. A brief conflict ensued, in which the major unfortunately received a mortal wound; but the misguided men of the 34th, meeting with no kind of sympathy from the Silhetees, were almost wholly annihilated within a few days.
There were at that time two companies of the 73d native regiment at Dacca; and as soon as the authorities received from the magistrate of Chittagong news of what had occurred at the last-mentioned place, they resolved to disarm those two companies, as a precaution against mischief. The sepoys, however, hearing the news from Chittagong more speedily than the authorities, prepared for resistance. A party of volunteers disarmed a few scattered sepoys; but as the others had artillery to assist them, a hundred English sailors, with two or three howitzers, were told off to deal with them. A sharp contest ensued at the sepoy barracks, with balls, grape, and musketry; until at length the sailors, determined on a closer attack, rushed upon the sepoys, drove them out of the barracks, and killed many on the spot. The rest set off on a hasty march to Jelpigoree, the head-quarters of the regiment. So utterly was that part of India denuded of British troops, that there were none to repel even one or two hundred mutineers; and many villages were plundered on the road. The check came from a quarter where apparently the mutineers least expected it—from the men of their own regiment. The motives of the native troops were as inscrutable now as at any former time; for although the two companies thus rebelled, fought, and fled, the bulk of the regiment remained faithful. They had even quietly permitted two hundred Goorkhas to join the regiment—that step having been adopted by the authorities to infuse new blood into the corps. An officer of the 73d, writing from Jelpigoree on the 3d of December, said: ‘Our men have sworn to their native officers (not to us) that they will do their duty; and our spies, who have hitherto proved so trustworthy, declare that we may fully depend on the regiment. Yesterday the test commenced by our ordering accoutrements and ammunition to be served out to our two hundred Goorkhas. This was done cheerfully, and is a very good indication of the prevailing feeling. A strange scene it was, watching the sepoys doling out ammunition to Goorkhas to fight against their own (the sepoys’) comrades, and it did one’s heart good to see it: we are all under arms, and very sanguine.’ These men actually joined in routing the mutinous companies of their own regiment, and in driving them towards Bhotan, where they died miserably among an unsympathising population.—Such discrepancies in conduct between different regiments and different companies of the same regiment, threw great difficulties in the way of any logical tracing of the causes of the Revolt.
In a wide region of Bengal westward of Calcutta, the only incidents requiring notice were two or three in which the Shekhawuttie battalion shewed that it still remained faithful to the Company’s raj—almost the last relic of the once magnificent Bengal army. With this regiment Colonel Forster put down the recusant Rajah of Pachete, whose domain touched the grand trunk-road above Raneegunge. After hovering some time on the verge of treason, this man at length refused to obey the British resident at Rugonauthpoor, Mr Lushington, who was obliged to intrench himself in self-defence. Colonel Forster hastened thither; and by his own boldness of bearing, and the faithfulness of his Shekhawutties, he captured the rajah, a fort of no inconsiderable strength, much wealth, and a mass of treasonable correspondence—without firing a shot. Shortly afterwards, Forster marched to Sumbhulpore, where a band of ruffians, headed by one of their own class, had commenced a course of violence that needed and obtained a prompt check.
Let us hasten on to the busier scenes of the northwest, viewing them in connection with Cawnpore as a central point of strategy, and with Sir Colin Campbell as leader of all the British operations. This may the more appropriately be done; because there were no events on the Lower Ganges, between Calcutta and Benares, requiring notice, so far as concerned the months of November and December.
Cawnpore was a centre in military matters for the following reasons. On one side of it was Lucknow, so important in relation to the occupancy of Oude; Allahabad, on another side, was on the great line of route for troops from Calcutta; Agra and Delhi, towards the northwest, lay on the path of approach from the Punjaub; while on the south and southwest were the roads along which armies or columns of armies might march from the two southern provinces of Madras and Bombay. Hence Sir Colin Campbell made earnest endeavours to maintain a good position at Cawnpore, as a convenient base of operations. Colonel Wilson, as commandant, was instructed to attend to the wants of Lucknow so far as he could, and to watch the movements of insurgent troops in the neighbourhood. This continued throughout October. In November, when Sir Colin went with his small army to relieve Lucknow, he left General Windham—well known in Crimean warfare as the ‘hero of the Redan’—in command at Cawnpore, not to fight, but to keep communication safely open from Lucknow viâ Cawnpore to Allahabad. Sir Colin, it will be remembered,[[126]] hurried back to Cawnpore at the end of November on account of events that had occurred during his absence. What those events were, we have now to narrate.
The series of disasters that occurred to General Windham originated in part in the want of good communication between him and Sir Colin Campbell. Whether the messengers were stopped by the way, does not clearly appear; but Sir Colin remained in ignorance that the Gwalior mutineers were approaching Cawnpore; while Windham received no replies to letters sent by him, asking for instructions for his guidance. Sir Colin knew nothing of Windham’s troubles until, on the 27th of November, he heard at the Alum Bagh the noise of artillery-firing at Cawnpore; while Windham received no aid or advice until Sir Colin himself appeared late on the following day. Whether or not there were defective tactics in the subsequent management of the affair, this uncertainty at the beginning was unquestionably disadvantageous. Windham knew, about the middle of the month, that the Gwalior and Indore mutineers, swelled to 20,000 strong by reinforcements of rebels from various quarters, had reached within about thirty miles of Cawnpore, on the Calpee road; and a week later he found that they were within twenty miles. As the troops at his command barely exceeded 2000 men, and as he received no news from Campbell, he considered how best to maintain his position. He was in an intrenchment or intrenched fort, far distant from the one formerly occupied by Sir Hugh Wheeler, and placed close to the Ganges, so as to command the bridge of boats; there being within the intrenchment the requisite buildings for the daily necessities of his force. As the city of Cawnpore lay between him and the Calpee road, he deemed it necessary to take up a new position. Leaving some of his troops, therefore, in the intrenchment, he formed with the remainder a new camp at Dhuboulee, close to the canal westward of the city, at a point where he believed he would be able to watch and frustrate the enemy.
On the 26th, finding that the mutineers were approaching, he went out to encounter them. He started at three in the morning with about 1200 infantry (chiefly of the 34th, 82d, 88th, and Rifles, 100 Sikh cavalry and eight guns), and marched eight or nine miles to Bhowsee, near the Pandoo Nuddee—leaving his camp-equipage and baggage near the city. Brigadier Carthew was second in command; and the chief officers under him were Colonels Walpole, Kelly, and Maxwell. The enemy were found strongly posted on the opposite side of the dry bed of the Pandoo Nuddee. The British advanced with a line of skirmishers along the whole front, with supports on each flank, and a reserve in the centre. The enemy opened a heavy fire of artillery from siege and field guns; but such was the eagerness of the British troops to engage, that they carried the position with a rush, cheering as they went; and a village, half a mile in the rear of the enemy, was rapidly cleared. The mutineers hastily took to flight, leaving behind them two howitzers and one gun. At this point, apparently for the first time, Windham became aware that he had been engaging the advanced column only of the enemy, and that the main force was near at hand. Rendered uneasy by his position, he resolved on retiring to protect the city, camp, cantonment, intrenchment, and bridge of boats. This he did.
So far, then, the operations of the 26th were to a certain extent successful. But disaster followed. He encamped for the night on the Jewee Plain, on the Calpee side of Cawnpore, having the city between him and the intrenchment. Whether Windham did not know that the enemy were so near in great force, whether his camping-ground was ill chosen, or whether he left his flanks unprotected, certain it is that, about noon on the 27th, when his men were preparing for a camp-dinner, they were surprised by an onslaught of the enemy in immense force, from behind a thick cover of trees and brushwood, beginning with an overwhelming artillery cannonade. For five hours did this attack continue, chiefly near the point of junction of the Delhi and Calpee roads. Distracted by an attack on three sides of him, Windham hastened to see what was doing on the fourth side, towards the city; and here he ascertained that the mutineers had turned his flanks, got into the city, and were beginning to attack the intrenchment near the bridge. Retreat was at once resolved on; and although the general’s dispatch did not state the fact, the private letters shew that the retreat was sauve qui peut. For, in truth, it became a matter of speed, whether the British could rush back to the intrenchment in time to save it. They did so; but at the expense of a large store of tents, saddlery, harness, camp-equipage, and private property—all of which had to be abandoned in the hasty scamper from the camp to the intrenchment. This booty the enemy at once seized upon, and either appropriated or burned according to its degree of usefulness. No less than five hundred tents fed a bonfire that night—a loss quite irreparable at that time to the British.
Bitter was the mortification with which the troops contemplated this day’s work. One of the officers said in a private letter: ‘You will read the account of this day’s fighting with astonishment; for it tells how English troops, with their trophies and their mottoes, and their far-famed bravery, were repulsed and lost their camp, their baggage, and their position, by [to?] the scouted and degraded natives of India.’ The beaten ‘Feringhees,’ as the enemy had now a right to call them, did certainly retreat to their intrenchment amid overturned tents, pillaged baggage, men’s kits, fleeing camels, elephants, horses, and servants. Another officer who had just come up from Allahabad, and who was within the intrenchment on the afternoon of this day, thus described the scene: ‘Saw our troops retreating into the outer intrenchment. A regular panic followed. Trains of elephants, camels, horses, bullock-wagons, and coolies came in at the principal gate, laden with stuff. The principal buildings are the General Hospital, the Sailors’ Hospital, the Post-office, and the Commissariat-cellars. Around these houses, which are scattered, crowds of camels, bullocks, and horses were collected, fastened by ropes to stakes in the ground, and among the animals, piles of trunks, beds, chairs, and miscellaneous furniture and baggage. There was scarcely room to move. Met one of the chaplains hastening into the intrenchment. He had left everything in his tent outside. The servants almost everywhere abandoned their masters when they heard the guns. Mounted officers were galloping across the rough ground between the inner and outer intrenchments, and doolie after doolie, with its red curtains down, concealing some poor victim, passed on to the hospitals. The poor fellows were brought in, shot, cut, shattered, and wounded in every imaginable way; and as they went by, raw stumps might be seen hanging over the sides of the doolies, literally like torn butcher-meat. The agonies which I saw some of them endure during the surgical operations were such as no tongue or pen can describe. The surgeons, who did their utmost, were so overworked, that many sufferers lay bleeding for hours before it was possible to attend to them.’ During the hasty retreat, one of the guns had been overturned in a narrow street in Cawnpore. The British could not wait to bring it away; but at night General Windham ordered 100 men of the 64th to aid a few seamen of the naval brigade in an expedition to secure the gun. It was a delicate task, in a city crowded with the enemy; how it was done, one of the officers of the naval brigade has told.[[127]]