The battles of the British Army

by Robert Melvin Blackwood

The palace, as already indicated, is more of a fortress than a place of residence, and with capable defenders, might have defied an investing army for some time. It was imperative that it should be taken, so our guns battered the stoutly-built walls, while shells were directed over the complete line of buildings.

The resistance was feeble, and when once an entrance had been obtained, the rebels and royal bodyguard fled in all directions, seemingly not desirous of encountering the British troops. The Palace was soon completely in our hands, and large numbers of rebels who sought to defend their abdicated master were at once cut down, while those who were fortunate enough to escape through the grounds, either fell into the hands of our men posted at various quarters, or were killed by the avenging troops which dashed along the streets of Delhi. The order of the General to have no mercy upon the rebels was carried up to the letter, and although many of the wretches begged and prayed for their lives, it is to their credit as a brave race that it must be said that they met their death bravely in the majority of cases. The women and children were respected, and sent to places of safety.

A story is related of a veteran of the 60th Regiment, who, along with a small detachment, was engaged ferreting out the rebels. They had come across a band of sepoys, women, and children mixed into a heterogeneous mass, and, covering the group with their rifles, called on the men to step aside. This they sullenly did, while the women, who were apparently their wives, stood at a distance, quite well aware of what was to happen. Although ordered to depart, they preferred to stay and see their mutinous partners perish. One of the women clung to the knees of the veteran soldier, who was about to administer the coup de grace to a sinister looking rebel. “Oh, Sahib, he is my husband!” “Weel, ma guid wumman,” grimly responded the son of Mars, “ye’re going to be a weedy sune!” and with that he drove his bayonet through the rebel’s heart. “Noo, mistress,” he continued, as he surveyed his reeking blade, “if ye ha’e ony mair freends like yer departed husband, jist tak’ me tae them, an’ I’ll be pleased to gie them the same medicine!”

This aptly illustrates the callousness of our soldiers’ hearts. They could forgive foes who had killed in fair battle, but they could not bring themselves to spare fiends who had killed and outraged their fair countrywomen.

With the falling of the palace into our hands, the greatest stronghold of the rebels had gone from their grasp. The Jumna Musjid, a palatial building which the mutineers had converted into a fortress, also fell after a heavy attack, in which a number of lives were lost.

In these operations no fewer than 205 pieces of cannon were captured, while a vast quantity of munitions of war fell into our hands. It must not be supposed that all these advantages were gained without heavy loss to our troops. The storming of the gates and breaches was the most dangerous work, and it was at these attacks that the greatest number of lives were lost. There were 8 European officers and 162 rank and file killed, with 103 natives, while 52 officers, 510 rank and file, and 310 natives were wounded. It is impossible to gauge the rebel loss, but it is computed that at the grand assault on the city over 5000 perished, and this death-roll was added to day after day by our pursuing soldiers.

The king, along with his two sons, had fled from Delhi by a secret exit, when the British gained admission to the city. He fled to the tomb of Hoomayon, situated just outside the city. This fine building, which is surmounted by a gigantic dome, served as their hiding-place for a short period, but eventually Captain Hodson of the Guides discovered their retreat, and as it was necessary that they should be captured, he proceeded with his force to the place where they were concealed. He called upon the occupants to surrender, and although they were inclined to treat for terms, the Captain was inflexible, and demanded unconditional surrender. The king, who had attained the patriarchal age of ninety years, had really played an unimportant part in the insurrection, and had merely been set up as a royal figurehead by the mutineers. The Captain, having respect for his grey hairs, spared his life, and also that of the Begum Zeenat Mahal.

The sons of the king had, no doubt much against their will, been actively engaged in the mutiny, and although they were but milk-and-water soldiers, they had chosen to act as leaders, and deserved death. A native of Delhi, writing regarding these persons says:—

“The princes are made officers in the royal army; thousands of pities for the poor luxurious princes! They are sometimes compelled to go out of the gates of the city in the heat of the sun; their hearts palpitate from the firing of muskets and guns. Unfortunately they do not know how to command an army, and their forces laugh at their imperfections and bad arrangements.”

Captain Hodson gave orders that the two princes and a grandson of the king should be shot, and this was done in the city, their naked bodies being hung by the neck in the Kotwallee, or Mayor’s Court, in presence of the people, who were awed at the fate of those who had ruled them. Executions were common in the city, which was now wholly in possession of the Queen’s troops.