It happened that a field day for one of the sepoy battalions had been ordered for the early morning of the 10th July. It was customary on such occasions for the sepoys, instead of remaining in their huts in the pettah, to sleep inside the fort, in order to get under arms without delay in the morning. The sepoy guards inside the fort were furnished by the other native battalion. So favourable did the opportunity appear to the mutineers, that it led to a premature explosion of the plot that had been formed in concert with sepoys in other stations. At three o’clock in the morning of the 10th, a general attack by the sepoys was suddenly made on the men of the 69th and the European officers in the fort. At the same moment, the guards and sentries were attacked and overpowered, the sick men in hospital massacred, the officers’ quarters surrounded and fired into, while the principal body of mutineers poured volley after volley into the barracks where the 69th were sleeping, and brought two fieldpieces to play on them, obtained from the magazine. The men surprised and shot down in their sleep, and without officers, could do little more than shelter themselves as they best might, and hold the entrance to the barracks. Colonel Fancourt, with several other officers, was shot down at once, and the complete massacre of every European in the fort appeared inevitable. Without waiting for the completion of their work, the mutineers brought out one of the sons of Tippoo, and proclaimed him Sultan, hoisting at the same time a Mysore flag that had been prepared for the occasion.
In the confusion and darkness, a few officers and a sergeant of the 69th, named Brady, managed to meet in the quarters of one of the officers. After maintaining themselves some time, they broke out and forced their way into the 69th barracks, on which a heavy fire was still kept up. Having rallied the survivors, they sallied out through the windows, and gained the adjoining ramparts under a heavy fire. It was now broad daylight, and the men, who had had at the outset only six cartridges each, had scarcely any ammunition left. Nevertheless, they made their way along the ramparts, driving the mutineers before them, till they reached the Magazine which was on the opposite side of the fort. Finding that all the ball ammunition had been already removed by the mutineers, they retraced their steps as far as the work over the main gateway, after pulling down the rebel flag. Here they resolved to make their last stand, their numbers greatly reduced, the only unwounded officers left being two Assistant Surgeons, and the whole party being exposed to a continual fire to which they were scarcely able to respond. They had obtained a few cartridges from the pouches of dead mutineers, with which they still kept up a feeble appearance of defence. In the confusion of making their way along the ramparts to the Magazine, some thirty men of the 69th, with two or three officers, got separated from the main body. Finding a rope suspended from the wall, which had been used to admit mutinous sepoys, they let themselves down by it, and took refuge in a small detached redoubt, where Lt. Colonel Forbes with a few unarmed sepoys who had remained faithful, had taken post. Hopeless as the whole situation appeared at this juncture, help was fast approaching. It happened that Major Coates of the 69th and several of the native infantry officers resided outside the walls. On being aroused by the firing and tumult, and being unable to enter the fort, Coates guessed what had happened, and at once dispatched an officer to Arcot with a letter to Gillespie.
Gillespie had appointed that very morning to ride over to Arcot, to breakfast with Colonel Fancourt. He had mounted his horse at daybreak, and started on his ride, accompanied by Captain Wilson of the 19th, when he was met by Coates’ messenger riding at full speed, who told him that the gates of the fortress were shut, that there was heavy firing and a dreadful noise within. Making at once for the Cavalry lines, Gillespie was in a few minutes hastily galloping along the road to Vellore, at the head of a squadron of the 19th under Captain Wilson, and a troop of the 7th Native Cavalry, leaving orders for the rest of the cavalry and the galloper guns of the 19th to follow as soon as possible, under Lieut. Colonel Kennedy. As the troopers approached the walls, they were seen by the little party who still held out over the gateway. The 69th had been in Jamaica four years before. To Sergeant Bradys astonishment, he beheld at the head of the little band of dragoons the well-known Colonel Gillespie, whom he had seen only a short time before in the West Indies. “If Colonel Gillespie be alive, God Almighty has sent him from the West Indies to save our lives in the East!” he exclaimed. The moment was indeed most critical. The small party over the gateway had fired their last cartridge, and the sepoys, who for a time had dispersed to plunder, were gathering to complete their work. On seeing the relief party advancing, a great number of the mutineers retired to the further ramparts, leaving the gateway and one bastion in possession of the little party under Sergeant Brady. The entrance to the fortress was through four successive gates. The two outer gates were fortunately open, and the drawbridge was down. Encouraged by Gillespie, some of the 69th let themselves down by their pouch and bayonet belts, and opened the third gate from within, not without losing several of their number, but the fourth and the strongest gate was beyond their powers. In order to open it, Gillespie formed the desperate expedient of forcing the wicket and opening the gate from the inside. The wicket was forced, and Gillespie for a brief interval, accompanied by Captain Wilson and three men on foot, stood inside the fort, exposed to the fire of the square and palace yard full of men. But their efforts to break the locks and force the bars were fruitless, and, seeing that perseverance in the attempt could only end in their destruction, the little party withdrew. Still casting about for some means of joining the party over the gateway, Gillespie suddenly spied a rope. The end was at once thrown up and secured, and in a few minutes, by its assistance, Gillespie joined the remnants of the 69th over the gateway. Seeing a pair of regimental colours on the wall Gillespie seized them, and, collecting as many of the 69th as he could find, at once headed a bayonet charge against a three gun battery, out of which the enemy were driven. Though there was not a single round of ammunition procurable, a gun, turned round and pointed towards the mutineers, held them in check, at a time when every minute was valuable. But the effect did not last long, and just as it seemed as if no further effort could be made to stave off the impending fate of the party, the remainder of the 19th with their galloper guns suddenly appeared at the gate. Forcing his way back to the wall above the gateway, Gillespie gave orders for the gate to be burst open, which was done with the first shot. The great square was full of men ready to dispute the entrance of the cavalry, and the entrance being very narrow, and moreover being commanded by two guns, Gillespie called on the remnant of the 69th for one final effort. Putting himself at their head, a gallant bayonet charge was made to clear the entrance for the cavalry, which was attended with further loss. The dragoons poured in, headed by Captain Skelton of the 19th, and supported loyally by some of the 7th native cavalry, and the work of retribution commenced. Between three and four hundred of the mutineers were cut down in the fort, while numbers, who escaped by a sally port, were caught and slain outside, by a squadron of the 19th under Lieutenant Young, and a party of the 7th Native Cavalry under Lieutenant Woodhouse. One party of mutineers maintained themselves for some time in one of the barracks, firing on all who approached; till some of the 19th dismounted and stormed the building, putting them all to the sword. By 10 o’clock all was over, and the safety of the fortress secured, but Gillespie has left it on record that, had he delayed scaling the wall for five minutes, none of those inside the fort could have escaped. The loss of the 69th amounted to 115 rank and file killed, and 76 wounded. Of the officers of different regiments, fifteen were killed and five wounded. Several, who had been unable to make their way to the 69th barracks, saved themselves by concealment during the tumult. Among the 19th Light Dragoons, one trooper was killed and three wounded, a loss that would have been much greater but for the gallantry of the 69th in clearing a space for the cavalry to form in after entering the fort. Gillespie was accidentally ridden down by a dragoon, and badly bruised, in the mêlée.
Investigation showed that the sepoys in many other stations were prepared to mutiny, and, but for the failure at Vellore, which was the centre of disaffection, would have risen. By Gillespie’s resolution and intrepidity in stamping out the mutiny before it could gather force, a great and unexpected danger had been averted. Well might the Commander-in-Chief say that Gillespie had performed “a military wonder.” The princes of Tippoo’s family were at once sent down to Madras, escorted by the 19th Light Dragoons, and embarked for Calcutta, on board the Culloden, on the 30th. The 19th remained in Madras three days, encamped by the Race Stand, and then returned to Arcot. Gillespie was employed at Wallajabad and other places where dangerous symptoms of disaffection had appeared. At the same time, he was appointed to be Inspector and Exercising officer of Cavalry in the Presidency, but the appointment was discontinued as unnecessary, a year later, by the Court of Directors. To show their appreciation of his services, the Court of Directors granted Gillespie a money reward of £2500. A proportionate sum was granted to Sergeant Brady, who was also recommended for a Commission, and each non-commissioned and private of the 19th Light Dragoons who had been employed at Vellore, received a gratuity of one month’s pay. Suitable rewards were also given to the men of the native cavalry, who behaved loyally on the occasion. In consequence of the mutiny, both the Governor and the Commander-in-Chief were recalled to England.
Gillespie’s connection with the 19th practically terminated three months later, when the regiment left India, and the rest of his career does not come within the scope of this history. On the regiment sailing for England, he remained in India, and, in the following year, exchanged into the 8th Light Dragoons with Lieut. Colonel John Ormsby Vandeleur. His gallant deeds at the conquest of Java, and subsequently, while in command of the troops there, can never be forgotten. His death was in keeping with his whole life. He fell under the walls of Kalunga in the Deyrah Dhoon, on the 31st October 1814, at the beginning of the first Nepaul War, while vainly trying to force an entrance at the head of some dismounted dragoons, after the first attack had failed. His remains were carried to Meerut for interment. By the irony of fate, on the 10th May 1857, the first shots of the great sepoy mutiny were fired within a mile of the monument over his grave, and were the beginning of events that at one time threatened to involve British power in the East in ruin, and that have changed the whole course of Indian history. If that gallant spirit was still permitted to take interest in the events of that day, how it must have chafed at the exhibition of incapacity and indecision that led to such disastrous consequences. In view of what happened at Vellore, it is allowable to believe that the Great Mutiny of 1857 would never have assumed the proportions it did, had the first outbreak been met by the same display of energy and resolution as was shown, under similar circumstances, fifty-one years earlier. On the 2nd January 1815, before the news of his death reached England, Gillespie was gazetted as K.C.B. A monument to his memory, by Chantrey, was erected in St Paul’s Cathedral, at the expense of the nation.
G. Chinnery, pinx. Walker & Boutall, ph. sc.
The time had now arrived when the 19th was to bring to a close its long and distinguished career in India. Orders were received for the regiment to march to Madras, for embarkation to Europe by the next homeward bound fleet. At Poonamallee, on 5th October, they made over their horses to the 25th Light Dragoons, who had been brought down from Bengal, by sea, to take their place. In the twenty-four years that had elapsed since the regiment had landed in India, great were the changes it had witnessed. At the time of its arrival, the very existence of the British settlements in Southern India hung by a thread. England had then been at war with France, and the two countries were still at war. But the conditions were changed. Now the French flag had disappeared from India, and not a single native power dared meet a British army in the field, without risking its own existence. From a trading corporation the East India Company had grown into a great and powerful government, whose supremacy in India was unchallenged. In achieving this result, the 19th Light Dragoons had played no small part. On their first arrival in India the prevailing sentiment with which they were regarded was curiosity. The horsemen of native powers were numbered by tens of thousands. Their method was to waste and ravage the country round an enemy’s force, to harass the line of march, to cut off stragglers, to intercept convoys and to wear down an enemy by these indirect methods. To charge home, sword in hand, into the ranks of an unbroken enemy was foreign to their ideas of properly conducted warfare. The first appearance of the 19th in the field came therefore as a surprise to friend and foe; it was like the introduction of a new weapon. Before the first campaign against Tippoo was six months old, the reputation of the 19th Light Dragoons had penetrated to every part of southern India. The impression thus created grew with every successive appearance of the regiment in the field of action; and, as long as they remained in India, they continued to evoke an amount of interest and attention that was bestowed on no other regiment in the service. One who charged with them at Assaye and Argaum, and fought his way into Vellore with them, though not belonging to the regiment, wrote of the nineteenth as “a fine specimen of what a regiment ought to be. They called themselves the ‘Terrors of the East.’ Indeed, such was the respect in which they were held by the natives, that when they embarked for England, all the black town of Madras was emptied to see them off.” Before sailing, an entertainment in their honour was given by the Commander-in-Chief, and the subjoined orders were published:—
General Order (Madras Govt.).