The true account of the cavalry "demonstration" is this: on the morning on which the city and palace were finally evacuated (19th), the whole of the available cavalry (not otherwise employed) moved out through the suburbs in the direction of, though not on the road to, the Kootub, but with strict orders not to go under fire! Well, we all marched out to the top of the hill on which stands the "Eedgah," and thence, from a safe and respectful distance, overlooked the camp of the Bareilly and Nusseerabad force, under "General" Bukt Khan, quondam Subadar of artillery. While minutely examining the camp through my glass (I was with Brigadier Hope Grant, to show the way), I perceived, by unmistakable signs, that it was being evacuated. Shortly after a loud explosion showed that they were blowing up their ammunition previous to a flight; these signs were on the moment confirmed by the arrival of my "Hurkaras" (messengers), and I immediately got leave to go and tell the General. I did so, galloping down along the front of the city to see if that was quite clear. I then asked leave to go down through the camp, and see what was really the state of the case; and Macdowell and I started with seventy-five men, and rode at a gallop right round the city to the Delhi gate, clearing the roads of plunderers and suspicious-looking objects as we went. We found the camp as I had been told, empty, and the Delhi gate open; we were there at 11 a. m. at latest, and it was not until 2 p. m. that the order was given for the cavalry to move out, and they were so long about it, that when at sunset Macdowell and I were returning, (bringing away three guns left by the enemy, and having made arrangements and collected camels for bringing in the empty tents, &c.,) we met the advance-guard coming slowly forward in grand array! We had been on to the jail and old fort, two or three miles beyond Delhi, and executed many a straggler. I brought in the mess plate of the 60th Native Infantry, their standards, drums, and other things. Macdowell and I had been for five hours inside the Delhi gate, hunting about, before a guard was sent to take charge of it.
The next day I got permission, after much argument and entreaty, to go and bring in the King, for which (though negotiations for his life had been entertained) no provision had been made and no steps taken, and his favorite wife also, and the young imp (her son) whom he had destined to succeed him on the throne. This was successfully accomplished, at the expense of vast fatigue and no trifling risk.[52] I then set to work to get hold of the villain princes. It was with the greatest difficulty that the General was persuaded to allow them to be interfered with, till even poor Nicholson roused himself to urge that the pursuit should be attempted. The General at length yielded a reluctant consent, adding "but don't let me be bothered with them." I assured him it was nothing but his own order which "bothered" him with the King, as I would much rather have brought him into Delhi dead than living. Glad to have at length obtained even this consent, I prepared for my dangerous expedition. Macdowell accompanied me, and taking one hundred picked men, I started early for the tomb of the Emperor Humayoon, where the villains had taken sanctuary. I laid my plans so as to cut off access to the tomb or escape from it, and then sent in one of the inferior scions of the royal family (purchased for the purpose by the promise of his life) and my one-eyed Moulvie Rujub Alee, to say that I had come to seize the Shahzadahs for punishment, and intended to do so, dead or alive. After two hours of wordy strife and very anxious suspense, they appeared, and asked if their lives had been promised by the Government, to which I answered "most certainly not," and sent them away from the tomb towards the city, under a guard. I then went with the rest of the sowars to the tomb, and found it crowded with, I should think, some 6,000 or 7,000 of the servants, hangers-on, and scum of the palace and city, taking refuge in the cloisters which lined the walls of the tomb. I saw at a glance that there was nothing for it but determination and a bold front, so I demanded in a voice of authority the instant surrender of their arms, &c. They immediately obeyed, with an alacrity I scarcely dared to hope for, and in less than two hours they brought forth from innumerable hiding-places some 500 swords, and more than that number of fire-arms, besides horses, bullocks, and covered carts called "Ruths," used by the women and eunuchs of the palace. I then arranged the arms and animals in the centre, and left an armed guard with them, while I went to look after my prisoners, who, with their guard, had moved on towards Delhi. I came up just in time, as a large mob had collected, and were turning on the guard. I rode in among them at a gallop, and in a few words I appealed to the crowd, saying that these were the butchers who had murdered and brutally used helpless women and children, and that the Government had now sent their punishment: seizing a carabine from one of my men, I deliberately shot them one after another. I then ordered the bodies to be taken into the city, and thrown out on the "Chiboutra," in front of the Kotwalie,[53] where the blood of their innocent victims still could be distinctly traced. The bodies remained before the Kotwalie until this morning, when, for sanitary reasons, they were removed. In twenty-four hours, therefore, I disposed of the principal members of the house of Timur the Tartar. I am not cruel, but I confess I did rejoice at the opportunity of ridding the earth of these wretches. I intended to have had them hung, but when it came to a question of "they" or "us," I had no time for deliberation.
September 24th.—The picture drawn from the usually mendacious reports at Simla, is not even founded on fact. The women of the palace had all escaped before the troops entered.
The troops have behaved with singular moderation towards women and children, considering their provocation. I do not believe, and I have some means of knowing, that a single woman or child has been purposely injured by our troops, and the story on which your righteous indignation is grounded is quite false; the troops have been demoralized by drink, but nothing more.
September 25th.—... I miss Colonel Seaton terribly, we have lived in the same tent for months, and had become brothers in affection as well as in arms. I mourn deeply for poor Nicholson; with the single exceptions of my ever-revered Sir Henry Lawrence, and Colonel Mackeson, I have never seen his equal in field or council; he was preëminently our "best and bravest," and his loss is not to be atoned for in these days. I cannot help being pleased with the warm congratulations I receive on all sides for my success in destroying the enemies of our race; the whole nation will rejoice, but I am pretty sure that however glad —— will be at their destruction, he will take exception to my having been the instrument, in God's hands, of their punishment. That will not signify, however; I am too conscious of the rectitude of my own motives to care what the few may say while my own conscience and the voice of the many pronounce me right.
A fuller account of the capture of the King will be found in a letter addressed to me shortly afterwards, and published by me in the Times, which I now reprint:—
"I have before explained to you what your brother's (Captain Hodson's) position officially was,—namely, that he was appointed Assistant Quartermaster-General and Intelligence Officer on the Commander-in-Chief's own Staff. His reports were to be made to him direct, without the intervention of the Quartermaster-General or any other person.
"For this appointment, which was then a most responsible one, as intelligence of the enemy's movements and intentions was of the utmost importance, his long acquaintance with Sikhs and Affghans, and his having been similarly employed in the Punjaub war, had peculiarly fitted him. Of course, there were always plenty of traitors in the enemy's camp ready to sell their own fathers for gain, or to avoid punishment, and he was invested with full power to promise reward or punishment, in proportion to the deserts of those who assisted him.
"On our taking possession of the city gate, reports came in that thousands of the enemy were evacuating the city by the other gates, and that the King also had left his palace. We fought our way inch by inch to the palace walls, and then found truly enough that its vast arena was void. The very day after we took possession of the palace, (the 20th,) Captain Hodson received information that the King and his family had gone with a large force out of the Ajmere Gate to the Kootub. He immediately reported this to the General commanding, and asked whether he did not intend to send a detachment in pursuit, as with the King at liberty and heading so large a force, our victory was next to useless, and we might be besieged instead of besiegers. General Wilson replied that he could not spare a single European. He then volunteered to lead a party of the Irregulars, but this offer was also refused, though backed up by Neville Chamberlain.
"During this time messengers were coming in constantly, and among the rest one from Zeenat Mahal, (the favorite Begum,) with an offer to use her influence with the King to surrender on certain conditions. These conditions at first were ludicrous enough—viz: that the King and the whole of the males of his family should be restored to his palace and honors; that not only should his pension be continued, but the arrears since May be paid up, with several other equally modest demands. I need not say these were treated with contemptuous denial. Negotiations, however, were vigorously carried on, and care was taken to spread reports of an advance in force to the Kootub. Every report as it came in was taken to General Wilson, who at last gave orders to Captain Hodson to promise the King's life and freedom from personal indignity, and make what other terms he could. Captain Hodson then started with only fifty of his own men for Humayoon's Tomb, three miles from the Kootub, where the King had come during the day. The risk was such as no one can judge of, who has not seen the road,[54] amid the old ruins scattered about of what was once the real city of Delhi.