The arrival of a Madras infantry regiment, in the ranks of which were some Hindostanees, gave rise to some little speculation as to possible events, should they be brought against their rebel countrymen. At the same time news circulated that a mutinous spirit had been shown in one of the cavalry regiments[168] of that presidency, and in at least two of infantry[169] in that of Bombay.
Under the circumstances of the time, welcome was intelligence by English mail that a powerful force was in progress of dispatch to India; its numerical strength 25,000 men, including Royal Artillery, then to be employed in Hindostan for the first time. Now also came the first faint rumour that the transfer of Indian administration directly to the Government of Her Majesty was intended.
From Meean Meer came news of successful action against intended “rising” on the part of native troops at that station, the attending circumstances of that action being in some respects like those of the historical ball[170] at Brussels on the eve of Quatre Bras. Among the regiments disarmed, as an outcome of that action, was the 26th N.I. For some time thereafter the sepoys belonging to it remained “loyal” and “contrite.” Suddenly, under the shelter of night,[171] they fled, having first murdered one of their officers. At break of day troops were sent in pursuit; the fugitives overtaken on the left bank of the Ravee. Of their number fully 100 were shot down, 150 or so drowned in their endeavour to swim across that river, the remaining 200 ultimately captured, brought back to their station, and executed. It was of the concluding act of the drama that news now reached us.
In the afternoon of September 4, the River Bird arrived from Calcutta, having on board the “Shannon Naval Brigade,” under Captain—soon to become Sir William Peel. No sooner were they disembarked than all paraded for drill. Lookers-on rapidly collected to witness the novel proceedings, the wild rollicking manner in which the bluejackets pulled about and worked their ship’s guns of large calibre. That evening the officers were our guests at the regimental mess. Our next meeting was to be under circumstances even more stirring than those now taking place.
From time to time the papers of the day gave what statistics were available in regard to lives sacrificed, directly and indirectly, by the present outbreak of the sepoys. According to one paper,[172] those numbers were as follows, soldiers, officers, women, and children being included in the totals; namely, Meerut, 29; Loodianah, 3; Sealkote, 8; Fyzabad, 7; Gwalior, 15; Rohnee, 1; Jounpore, 1; Jhelum, 1; Allahabad, 15; Mehidpore, 7; Mosuffernuggar, 1; Bareilly, 70; Delhi—on the outbreak of the mutiny, 82,—killed or died by exposure subsequently, 40; Hissar, 9; Shahjehanpore, 1; Cawnpore, 19 (exclusive of those to be subsequently enumerated); Meean Meer, 2; Mhow, 34; Sooltanpore, 3; Saugur, 1; Neemuch, 4; Indore, 2; Patna, 1; Moradabad, 4; Darjeeling, 1; Futtehpore, 1; Lucknow, 22; Benares, 5; Agra, 16; Jhansi, 43; Jullundhur, 4; Ferozepore, 3; Raneegunge, 3; Indore, 15; making in all a total of 494. These numbers do not include the many instances in which lives were sacrificed by exposure and hardship, nor the numerous young soldiers who succumbed while being conveyed along the Grand Trunk Road.
With regard to the most terrible of all episodes,—namely, that of June 27, at Cawnpore,—an account by one of the very few survivors was published in the Friend of India;[173] namely, “Those who in the boats survived from the artillery fire directed upon them were taken back to Cawnpore; the men secured by cords, and with the ladies brought before the Nana, who thereupon gave orders for their destruction. The ladies were placed on one side, the men, bound as they were, drawn up in line, and his troops ordered to fire upon them. Some of the ladies broke away, and rushing to their husbands, clasped them in despair, determined to die with them. A chaplain who was of the doomed number begged that a few minutes might be granted them to prepare to meet their God—a favour which was granted; others called upon their executioners to finish their bloody work. A volley of musketry; the victims reeled and fell, some dead, others still alive, though wounded; their murderers rush upon them with tulwars;[174] they deal death around, nor do they cease their work when life is extinct, but continue to mutilate the bodies of the dead. The women and children, numbering one hundred and fifty-nine persons, were retained till July 15, and then destroyed by butchers employed for that diabolical purpose. Two days thereafter, but too late to avert the catastrophe the forces led by Havelock entered Cawnpore.” At a somewhat later date further particulars appeared[175] with reference to the same sad episode. According to them the list of persons whose lives were sacrificed there, whether in the entrenchments between June 5 to 27, in the boats on the latter date, or on July 15, when the last remnant was butchered, as just related, was as follows; namely, Honourable Company’s Artillery, 61; H.M.’s 32nd Regiment, 84; 1st European Fusiliers, 15; H.M.’s 84th Regiment, 50; officers of regiments and staff, 100; merchants, writers, and others, 100; drummers, etc., 40; women and children of soldiers, about 160; of writers merchants, and drummers, 120; ladies and children of officers, 50; servants (after many had absconded early in the outbreak), 100; sepoys and native officers sick in hospital, 20; total, 900. But there is every reason to believe that these figures are approximate rather than actually exact.
Orders were received and quickly carried into effect, whereby the wives and children of men and officers of the 10th were dispatched by steamer to Berhampore, at the time considered a place of safety. A company of our regiment marched towards Gya, then threatened by the mutinous 5th Irregulars, and defended only by a small body of Rattray’s Sikhs. The withdrawal of the Treasury from that station resulted in the official ruin of the civilian concerned; but under the circumstances of the time the verdict of opinion among those on the spot was that his action was justified.
Among the refugees proceeding by steamer down country was Mrs. Mills, whose husband, Major Mills, of the Bengal Artillery, had been shot by his mutinous men while endeavouring to escape from Fyzabad, by swimming the Gogra. This unfortunate lady had been wandering in the jungle for nearly three months. She now was ill from hardships and starvation; one child, an infant, had died, the remaining two were ill with cholera; she herself nearly devoid of clothing, without servant or other help, almost completely broken down; nor was it until a few days ago that she learned the fate of her husband. A brother officer of Major Mills, Captain Alexander, placed a suite of rooms in his house at her disposal. In due time she and her children were so far restored in health, and provided with clothing, that they continued their journey towards Calcutta.
For some time past a detachment of the 5th Fusiliers occupied a building connected with the Opium Stores in Patna, the rate of sickness and mortality among the men composing it being so great as to equal 90 per cent. of deaths per 100 strength per annum. A visit to the place by Colonel Fenwick and myself revealed the fact that the quarters assigned to them were in all respects unsuited; while, therefore, the remaining portion of the men were withdrawn, their place taken by men of the 10th, steps were taken, and successfully, to avert similar casualties among the latter.
Still there came news of mutiny from stations far apart: from Assam on the one hand, to Ferozepore on the other; while of regiments of the Bombay Presidency, a similar spirit had extended to at least four of their number. Indeed, so general had mutiny become that scarcely a remark was made as the news of some fresh outbreak circulated; but among officers and men of our regiment the desire was loudly expressed to “get fairly at them in the field,” little if any account being taken of relative numbers.