It may here suitably be mentioned, that Sir Colin Campbell’s experience of Oudian warfare taught him the necessity of caution in all attacks on the forts with which that province was so fully provided. His officers would have dashed at them, as at other obstacles; but he forbade enterprises likely to be followed by losses which good guns might obviate. On the 24th of March, just when the army of Oude was about to be broken up, he issued a general order concerning the arrangements to be made for attacking such strongholds.[[152]]
Quitting Oude for a time, and transferring attention to the important and fertile Doab between the Ganges and the Jumna, we shall see that the month of March found that part of India still much distracted by fighting and lawless violence. True, Allahabad was in British hands at one end of it, Delhi at the other, Cawnpore and Agra at intermediate points; but nevertheless there were numerous bands of rebels roaming about the open country. Whether two or three of these towns were on river-banks just beyond the Doab, does not affect the question, which is not one of mere geographical nomenclature.
The Lower Doab was brought more fully than before within the influence of military control, by the opening of a further portion of the great trunk-railway to Futtehpoor, placing that town within a few hours’ distance of Allahabad. This opening took place on the 25th of March; when Viscount Canning, with nearly all the civil officers of the last-named city, made the inaugurating journey to Futtehpoor, amid the holiday accompaniments of flags, triumphal arches, bands of music, feasting, and speech-making. Further to the northwest, Cawnpore remained a kind of central point, whence troops could be sent to quarters where they were most needed. A few regiments only were kept there, sufficient to guard against sudden surprises. All the British who entered the place beheld with melancholy interest the cross erected near the terrible well by the men of the 32d, in memory of the women and children of that regiment, included among the victims of Nena Sahib.
There was an important town, southwest of Cawnpore, which seemed likely to be a scene of warfare. During the month of March, it became very apparent that Calpee was a spot which would speedily require attention on the part of the military authorities. When Sir Colin Campbell defeated the Gwalior mutineers at Cawnpore, many weeks earlier, they fled from that neighbourhood. Rumours spread around that a considerable portion of the defeated force had fled southwest to Calpee, fortified themselves there, and called upon the neighbouring zemindars for supplies of men and money—both of which were forthcoming. The truth of this rumour, doubtful for a time, became confirmed as the spring advanced. It was now certain that rebels in great force occupied Calpee, well supplied with artillery and other munitions of war, and eagerly watching for a chance of making an attack on Cawnpore—should that oft-besieged place be left at any time insufficiently guarded. To what extent Nena Sahib or his brothers were connected with this Calpee force, was not known. The struggles in and near that town belong to a month beyond that to which this chapter relates.
The great city of Agra remained peacefully in the hands of the British. Occasionally, small columns were sent out to attack and disperse bodies of mutineers who were working mischief in the country districts; but the formidable brigades of mutinied regiments were not in that quarter. As one instance; on the 11th of March, Brigadier Showers found it necessary to chastise some rebels at Bah, in the Agra district. He set forth with two companies of the 8th foot, 400 of the Sikh police, two guns, a howitzer, and a mortar; and encountered a motley force of 4000 rebels—comprising three troops of insurgent cavalry, three companies of infantry, and a body of escaped convicts. These ruffians had assaulted and captured the town of Bah, plundered all the houses, carried off the cattle, and murdered some of the wealthier inhabitants. This body of rebels appeared to have come from the direction of the Gwalior territories across the Chumbul. Many of their leaders had been in the civil service of the Company, but turned rebels when they thought rebellion would be more profitable. Against these men Brigadier Showers marched from Agra. A strange wild contest ensued. The enemy did not stand to fight a battle, but made use of ravines, rocks, temples, topes, and villages as places whence masked attacks might be effected. There were no roads thereabouts, and Showers experienced much difficulty in struggling through jungles and ravines.
It was often difficult for the officers in command to muster troops enough to put down these bands of insurgents. At one period during the month, Colonel Riddell marched out from Minpooree to aid in intercepting fugitives from Lucknow. While he was gone, information arrived that Etawah was threatened by a large body of rebels. No aid being available from Minpooree, a telegraphic message was sent on to Futteghur (Furruckabad); and Colonel Seaton immediately ordered a regiment of Bengal Europeans to march to the threatened spot. These minor operations were often very harassing to the troops, who had to march great distances, and wage contests which did not bring them so much glory as a regular siege or a great battle. Officers naturally preferred those battle-fields which would bring their names in honourable form into the official gazettes; and private soldiers those which might earn for some of them the Victoria Cross; but many weary months passed over some of the corps, during which the troops were engaged in harassing pursuit of marauders and ruffians whom they heartily despised, and to conquer whom brought them very little increase of military reputation.
Speaking generally, it may be said that, at the end of March, the efforts made by the British officers in the Doab were directed chiefly to prevent the escape of rebels across the Ganges from Oude. One small force was watching to this intent at and near Cawnpore; another was in the Minpooree district; a third was marching down the road from Meerut to Futteghur; while two others, under Chamberlain and Coke, were endeavouring to control the Gangetic valley between Futteghur and Roorkee.
Further to the northwest, the region around Delhi was nearly all in British hands, and the city itself wholly so—all the mutinous regiments being far away. The authorities, after Delhi had remained several months peacefully in their hands, resolved on the formation of a camel corps, under a peculiar system of organisation. It was completed by the end of March, by a native named Lalla Jotee Pershaud, under the superintendence of Captain Chalmers, assistant commissary-general. The camels, 400 in number, were selected with great care, in the Bikaneer district. The drivers were armed each with a sword and fusil; and each camel was fitted to carry a European soldier if necessary. The drivers, equivalent to troopers or cavalry-men, were carefully selected from the natives of Rajpootana. The purpose in view was to form a corps of armed men capable of moving with great rapidity to any spot where their services might be urgently needed. Lalla Jotee Pershaud was a wealthy and influential man; and it was intended to make the officering of the corps such as would render it an acceptable compliment to friendly natives of good position.
As to the city itself, no semblance of fighting was presented. The conquest by Sir Archdale Wilson, half a year before, had been so complete, that no enemy remained to fight with. The British kept just sufficient reliable troops in the place to defend it from surprise; but the authority was mainly transferred to civil commissioners, who gradually re-established order and reorganised the revenue department. The old king still resided there, waiting for his time of punishment. A special tribunal tried and executed a large number of rebels.
A curious struggle of opinions arose on the question—What should be done with Delhi? Not only within that city itself, but all over India, the controversy was maintained with much earnestness. The opinions resolved themselves into three varieties—advocating destruction, decay, and conservation, respectively. When the city was captured, a very general desire was expressed, under the influence of fierce indignation, to destroy the place altogether, leaving not one stone upon another to tell where Delhi had been—or rather, leaving the stones to tell where Delhi had ceased to be. The destructives, if these persons may thus be called, argued that Delhi should be extinguished from the list of cities, because it was the centre of disaffection, the scene of the first and worst stroke levelled at British power; that the Mohammedans of India would ever think they had a national rallying-point, so long as Delhi remained; and that the destruction of this rallying-point would impress them with an idea of British power. The place has a charm for native ears; it is a sign, a symbol, a standard, a flag of nationality, the memory of which should be effaced, as something dangerous to the future security of the British ‘raj.’ Delhi, they urged, should be regarded rather as a dynastic than a commercial capital; everything in it recalls the past greatness of a race which had just been foremost in mutiny. For all these reasons—destroy Delhi. Gradually there arose a second party, who suggested decay rather than destruction. They said: ‘Destroy Delhi, and it would be perpetually an object of regret to the followers of Islam; but Delhi decayed would excite only a feeling of contempt. No tradition of sovereignty could attach to a dirty little village in which a population of pauper Mussulmans, around the ruins of old palaces, scrambled for the charity of a contemptuous traveller.’ They recommended that the European troops at Delhi should be removed to Hansi, where they might be easily accommodated; that the arsenal should be removed to Ferozpore; or that an entirely new European city should be built, lower down the Jumna; and that Delhi should then be left to be supported by natives alone, burdened by a special taxation as a punishment for treason—this, it was believed, would gradually rob the city of all its dignity and importance. But there arose a third party, to which, it was reputed, no less a personage than Sir John Lawrence belonged, urging the preservation of Delhi. The grounds for this advice were many and important. It was pointed out, among other things—that Delhi is admirably placed, geographically and politically; that its site was selected by men who looked primarily to the maintenance of power in the northwestern regions of India; that, as a commercial entrepôt, it is the point at which the two great streams of Central Asian trade diverge to Calcutta and Bombay; that, as a military cantonment, the city commands the Jumna at the best point for crossing the river; that it is the most central point from which the marauding Goojurs and Meewatties could be controlled; that the imperial palace would form an admirable fortress, to be garrisoned by British troops; and that the walls, brought at one point within a narrower sweep, would keep out plunderers and protect the magazine.