While Rose was thus engaged, Brigadier Stuart, with the first brigade of the Central India Field-force, was clearing out various rebel haunts in districts lying southward of Jhansi. On the morning of the 6th of March, Stuart’s column or brigade set out from his camp near the Chendaree fort, and marched six or eight miles to Khookwasas, a fort near which a large body of rebels were assembled. The route being through a thick jungle nearly the whole distance, the 25th and 86th regiments advanced cautiously, in skirmishing order. Arriving at a small pass near the fort, Stuart found that the enemy had barricaded the road, and lined the hills on either side with matchlockmen. The engineers soon cleared away the barricades; while a small party of the 86th rushed up the hills and dislodged the matchlockmen. Shortly afterwards, however, it was ascertained that the chief body of the enemy had taken up a position behind the wall of an enclosure about a mile from the fort. The 86th dashed forwards to gain this enclosure; two of the officers, Lieutenant Lewis and Captain Keating, climbed to its top before any of their men, and jumped down into the interior of the enclosure. The troops soon cleared out the enclosure, and then pursued their operations against the fort itself. Working his way steadily onwards, defeating and expelling bodies of insurgents from neighbouring villages, Stuart was at length enabled, on the 17th, to capture the fort of Chendaree itself. This place, situated in Malwah, about a hundred miles from Gwalior, is in a district which was assigned by Scindia in 1844, according to agreement with the British government, to assist in the maintenance of the Gwalior Contingent. The fort—consisting of a strong rampart of sandstone, flanked by circular towers, and crowning a high hill—was in the hands of insurgents at the date now under notice; and it was Brigadier Stuart’s duty to capture it. After cannonading on the evening of the 16th, he formed a practicable breach in the walls, and resolved to take the place by assault on the following morning. This he did very effectually. The 25th and 86th regiments, by an impetuous rush, carried everything before them. Captain Keating was severely wounded whilst foremost with the storming-party. The enemy mostly escaped, on account of the simple failure of a letter. On the preceding evening, the brigadier received a message informing him that Captain Abbott was within available distance with a considerable body of irregular cavalry; and in return a letter was despatched to Abbott, requesting him to gallop forward and invest the north side of the fort. This letter did not reach Abbott in time; and as a consequence, there was no obstacle to the escape of the rebels northward. All the guns, eight of iron and two of brass, were taken. The fort was given up to the keeping of one of Scindia’s lieutenants or soubahs, in friendly relation with the British; and the inhabitants of the town resumed their peaceful avocations, apparently glad to get rid of the presence of the rebels.
Stuart’s operations at Chendaree greatly facilitated the advance of Sir Hugh Rose towards Jhansi. He marched on, with the second brigade of his Central India Field-force, and reached that blood-stained city on the 21st of March. He gave a sketch of his operations from the 20th to the 25th in the following brief telegraphic form: ‘On the 20th my cavalry invested as much as possible the fort and town of Jhansi. The next day the rest of my force arrived. The rebels have fortified the walls of the town, and, shutting themselves up in the town and fort, have not defended the advanced position of Jhansi. The ranee has left her palace in the town, and has gone into the fort. The rebel garrison numbers about 1500 sepoys, of whom 500 are cavalry, and 10,000 Bundelas, with 30 or 40 cannon. Their position is strong; but I have occupied two good positions, one a breaching, the other a flanking one. I have been delayed by the want of a plan of Jhansi, and consequently have been obliged to make long and repeated reconnaissances. I opened a flanking fire, vertical and horizontal, yesterday (the 25th), and hope to open a breaching fire to-morrow, or at latest the next day.’ We shall see in a later page that Sir Hugh completely succeeded in his assault, early in April.
The present may be a proper place in which to advert to a matter which greatly agitated the public mind from time to time, both in England and India—namely, the conduct of the insurgents towards those of the British who unfortunately fell into their power. Jhansi was one of the stations in respect to which horror was most distressingly expressed. The morbid taste for horrors engendered by the incidents of the Revolt gave rise to many exaggerations. The terrible news from Delhi, Cawnpore, Jhansi, and other places, during the early months of the struggle, produced mischief in two ways; it created a demand for indiscriminate sanguinary vengeance; and it produced a tendency, not only to believe, but to exaggerate, all rumours of atrocities as committed by the natives. In England as well as at Calcutta, controversies almost of a fierce character arose on these points; the advocates on one side treating it as a point of honour to believe the tragedies in their worst form; while those on the other, in bitter terms demanded proof that the rumours were true. It was extremely difficult to disprove any statements concerning atrocities committed; for in most cases there were no Europeans left behind to give trustworthy testimony. Circumstances became known, during the progress of the military operations, which led to an inference that, though inhuman slaughter of innocent persons unquestionably took place soon after Delhi fell into the hands of the insurgents, it was not preceded by so much of hideous barbarity towards the women and children as had at first been reported and believed. It also became more and more evident, as time advanced, that many of the inscriptions on the wall of the slaughter-room at Cawnpore must have been written after the departure or death of the hapless persons whose writing they professed to be, by some one who failed to see the cruelty of the hoax he was perpetrating. This subject is adverted to in the present place, because the month of March lightened a little the terrible severity of the story of Jhansi, one of those which made a distressing impression on the public mind. It will be remembered[[155]] that, early in June of the preceding year, the British at Jhansi, upwards of fifty in number, were all put to death by the insurgents, acting at the instigation of a woman, the ranee or chieftainess of Jhansi; the destruction was so complete, that no European was left to tell the true incidents. Nine months afterwards, in the month of March, some of the English newspapers in India gave a detail of revolting indignities said to have been inflicted on the females of the party at Jhansi—greatly adding to the distress already felt by the relatives of the murdered persons. Jhansi had by that time been restored to British rule; and Captain Pinkney, superintendent of Jhansi, Jaloun, and Chendaree, determined to ascertain how far the real facts could be got at. After a diligent inquiry in various quarters, he arrived at a belief that the massacre, however barbarous, had not been deepened in atrocity by the frightful circumstances put forth in the newspapers. The truth appeared to him to be as follows: When the British in the fort were unable longer to hold out through want of food, they surrendered to the rebels, who swore that they would spare all their lives. No sooner, however, were the fort-gates opened, than the rebels entered, bound the men, and took them as well as the women and children to a place outside the city-walls called the Jokun Bagh. Here the men were placed in one group, and the women and children in another. The rebels and the ranee’s armed servants then murdered all the men, Major Skene being the first cut down by the jail darogah, one Bukshish Ali. After this the women and children were put to death with swords and spears. The dead bodies were stripped, and left two days in the Jokun Bagh, when they were all thrown into a neighbouring stream. Shortly after the writing of Captain Pinkney’s report, a letter was sent to the supreme government by Sir Robert Hamilton, political agent in Central India, in which a few of the facts were somewhat differently stated. According to his account, when the unhappy Europeans reached the Jokun Bagh, ‘they were stopped on the roadside under some trees. They were accompanied by a crowd of mutinous sepoys, irregular sowars, disaffected police, fanatic Mussulmans, men in the service of the ranee, inhabitants of the town, and rabble. Here Bukshish Ali, jail darogah, called out: “It is the ressaldar’s order that all should be killed;” and immediately cut down Captain (Major) Skene, to whom he was indebted for his situation under government. An indiscriminate slaughter of the men, women, and children then commenced; all were mercilessly destroyed, and their bodies left strewn about the road, where they remained until the third day, when, by permission of the same ressaldar, they were all buried in two gravel-pits close by.’ Execrable as this was, it was far less harrowing than the newspaper narratives which had given rise to the investigation. Captain Pinkney ascertained that the total number of Europeans thus barbarously murdered was sixty-seven, of whom just about one half were women and children. Sir Robert Hamilton caused the ground around the two gravel-pits to be cleared, and an enclosing wall to be built; he and all the other officials, on a selected day, attended a funeral-service at the spot, delivered by the Rev. Mr Schwabe, chaplain to the station; and he also planned the erection of an obelisk. Strange that India should become the ground for so many obelisks and crosses erected in memory of Europeans ruthlessly murdered by natives. One hundred and two years before, in 1756, Suraj-u-Dowlah, after conquering Calcutta from the Company’s servants, drove a hundred and forty-six adult Europeans, on a sultry June evening, into a dungeon only twenty feet square; and of those miserable creatures, a hundred and twenty-three died during the night, of heat, thirst, pressure, suffocation, and madness. An obelisk was afterwards set up, to mark this terrible ‘Black Hole of Calcutta.’ And now, in the middle of the nineteenth century, the English again found themselves engaged in erecting these damning memorials of native brutality, at Cawnpore and at Jhansi.
Obelisk built on the Site of the Black Hole, Calcutta, to commemorate the Murder of the One Hundred and Twenty-three Englishmen.—From a Drawing in the India House.
Leaving Jhansi and its mournful recollections for a while, we pass over from the Mahratta territories into Rajpootana; where numerous petty chieftains kept the territory in a state of much agitation. There were scarcely any of the mutinied Bengal regiments in that part of India; but the Kotah Contingent, and other auxiliary corps which had revolted, sided with some of the chieftains in hostilities against the British. So far as concerns the operations of the month of March, those of the Kotah insurgents were the chief that call for attention. We have in former pages alluded to a ‘Rajpootana Field-force,’ formed of several regiments sent up from Bombay. The first division of this force set forth from Nuseerabad on the 10th of March, for service against Kotah. It consisted of H.M. 95th foot, a wing of the 83d, the 10th Bombay infantry, the Sinde horse, and some horse and foot artillery. Siege-material of formidable character accompanied the column; comprising eighteen field-pieces, of which ten were 8-inch mortars and howitzers, and an immense supply of ammunition. The second division, that started on the following day, consisted of H.M. 72d foot, a wing of the 83d, the 1st Bombay Lancers, a mountain train, Brown’s battery, and an engineering corps. The 8th Hussars, with detachments of horse and foot artillery, were afterwards to join the columns. Several of the guns in the siege-train were drawn by elephants. Brigadier-general Lawrence accompanied this field-force, but only in a political capacity; the military command was held by General Roberts. The conquest of Kotah was looked forward to as a difficult enterprise, not only from the force of the enemy in men and guns, but from the peculiar position of the town itself. Kotah is bounded by the deep river Chumbul on one side, and by a lake on the other; and there was a probability that batteries would have to be erected on the opposite side of the river. The approach to it by land from Nuseerabad was also beset by many obstacles. It would be necessary to traverse the Mokundurra Pass, a long and narrow valley between two parallel ranges of hills, easily rendered formidable by a small number of men. It was altogether a larger and more important operation than the conquest of the numerous petty forts with which Rajpootana abounded. Many persons in India thought that those forts might safely be left to themselves; since the hill-chieftains were more frequently incited by hostility towards each other than towards the British, and since it was very little better than a waste of power to pursue them into the wilds and jungles which intersect that part of India. One favourable circumstance in connection with Kotah was, that the rajah was faithful, and as much opposed as the British to the insurgents.
The middle of the month was occupied by the march of Roberts’s force from Nuseerabad, over a difficult country. Surmounting all obstacles, the general arrived at Kotah on the 22d of March, and encamped a mile or two distant, on the north bank of the Chumbul. The rebels were in possession of the south bank, having with them a powerful array of guns, many of large calibre. The fort, the palace, and half the city, were held by the rajah, with Rajpoots and troops from Kerowlie. On the 25th, a portion of the British, about 300 in number, under Major Heatley, crossed the river, to aid the rajah at a critical moment. The rebels had that morning made a desperate attempt to escalade the walls, and drive the rajah’s troops into their only remaining stronghold, the castle; but this attempt was frustrated; had it succeeded, the rebels would have commanded the ferry over the river. Portions of H.M. 83d, and of the Bombay troops, formed the small force which crossed the river on the 25th. Two days afterwards, 600 men of H.M. 95th, with two 9-pounders, crossed over. On the 30th General Roberts was able to announce by telegraph, ‘I this day assaulted the town of Kotah with complete success, and comparatively trifling loss. No officer killed. The whole town is in my possession.’ Upwards of fifty guns were captured. The victory was gained by a clever flank-movement, which turned the enemy’s position, and rendered their defences useless. This was a point in tactics which the rebels seldom attended to sufficiently; they repeatedly lost battles by allowing their flanks to be turned.
Eastward of the Mahratta and Rajpoot territories, there were isolated bodies of insurgents in the Saugor regions, between the Jumna on the north and Nagpoor on the south. But General Whitlock, with a field-force gathered from the Madras presidency, kept these rebels under some control. His movements, however, scarcely need record here.
The South Mahratta country kept up just so much disturbance as to demand the vigilant attention of the authorities, without exciting any serious apprehension. In the month of March there was much of this disturbance, near the frontier between the two presidencies of Bombay and Madras, at Belgaum. On the one side, the Bombay government offered a large reward for the apprehension of three brothers, rebel leaders, Baba Desaee, Nena Desaee, and Hunmunt Desaee; while the governor of the Madras presidency put in force a disarming statute on his side of the frontier. One of the leaders, Hunmunt Desaee, after many contests, was driven, with the wives and families of others among the insurgents, into a tower on the summit of a peak in the Coonung range; it was a one-storied structure, with a ladder leading to an entrance trap-door. Such towers had been used by the military police in that range, and Hunmunt defended himself here as long as he could. There were other traitors in this part of the country. Towards the close of March, Mr Manson, one of the Company’s civil servants, obtained a clue to a conspiracy in which several natives—Naga Ramchunder, Balla Bhoplay, Bhow Shrof Chowdry, and others—were concerned; having for its object the collecting of guns unknown to the British authorities, and the inciting of other natives to acts of rebellion. One of these men was the chief of Jamkhundie, one a money-lender, and two others were Brahmins. The money-lender was supposed to have assisted the mutineers of Kolapore with pecuniary means for carrying on their operations. By lodging these mischief-makers in safe keeping at Belgaum and Satara, preparatory to a trial, the authorities checked an incipient disturbance.
This little patch of country, inhabited to a considerable extent by the southern Mahrattas, was the only part of the Bombay presidency south of the city itself which was in any anxiety concerning the proceedings of the insurgents. And indeed, northward of the city, there were no manifestations of rebellion short of the regions around Gujerat and Rajpootana; where even those who were disposed to be peaceful found themselves embarrassed and imperiled by the turbulence of their neighbours. In Gujerat, Sir Richmond Shakespear commenced and steadily carried on a general disarming of the population; the Guicowar or native sovereign cordially assisted him, and the two together collected many guns and thousands of stands of arms. As to the Madras presidency, it was quite at peace. From Cuttack in the north to Travancore in the south, there were no rebellious regiments, and few chieftains who ventured to endanger their safety by disputing the British ‘raj.’ In the Nagpoor and Saugor territories, belonging rather to the Bengal than to the Madras presidency, the elements of convulsion surged occasionally, but not to a very alarming extent. The Nizam’s country was troubled in a way which shews how desirable it is that orientals should not be tempted by anarchy or weakness in the governing power. The regular troops were moderately steady; but the news of mutiny elsewhere excited all the turbulent elements of the Deccan. Robber chieftains and city ruffians rose, not so much against the British, as against any who had property to lose. The town of Mulgate, held by a chieftain who commanded a motley band of Rohillas and Arabs, resisted the Nizam’s authority for some time; but it fell, and the leaders were taken prisoner.