On the 13th, orders were received at Dugshai, from the Commander-in-Chief, for the 1st Bengal European Fusileers to march without delay to Umbâla, where all the regiments from the hill stations were to concentrate. They set out that afternoon, and reached Umbâla, a distance of sixty miles, on the morning of the second day. From this point Lieutenant Hodson's narrative commences. It is compiled from the letters or bulletins which he sent day by day to his wife, written as best they might, in any moments which he could snatch from the overwhelming press of work, sometimes on the field, sometimes on horseback. It is almost unnecessary to observe, that they were not intended for the public eye, and would never have been published had my lamented brother been alive, as he had the greatest horror of any of his letters appearing in print. Now, unhappily, the case is different, and I feel, in common with many of his friends, that in justice both to himself and to the gallant band who formed the "army before Delhi," this record of heroic fortitude and endurance ought not to be withheld. It does not profess to be a history of the siege, or military operations connected with it; though it is a most valuable contribution to any history, as Lieutenant Hodson, from his position as head of the Intelligence Department, knew better, probably, than any other man what was going on both amongst the enemy and in our own force; and his incidental notices will tell, better, perhaps, than the most labored description, what our men did and what they suffered. Full justice will probably never be done them, nor their trying position appreciated as it ought to be; besiegers in name, though more truly besieged; exposed to incessant attacks night and day; continually thinned in numbers by the sword, the bullet, the sunstroke, and cholera, and for many weeks receiving no reinforcements; feeling sometimes as if they were forgotten by their countrymen, and yet holding their ground against a nation in arms, without murmuring or complaining, and with unshaken determination. All accounts agree in speaking of the cheerful and "plucky" spirit that prevailed, both amongst officers and men, notwithstanding fatigue, privation, and sickness, as something quite remarkable even amongst British soldiers. And if there was one more than another who contributed to inspire and keep up this spirit, if there was one more than another who merited that which a Roman would have considered the highest praise, that he never despaired of his country, it was Lieutenant Hodson. I have seen a letter from a distinguished officer, in which he says:—
"Affairs at times looked very queer, from the frightful expenditure of life. Hodson's face was then like sunshine breaking through the dark clouds of despondency and gloom that would settle down occasionally on all but a few brave hearts, England's worthiest sons, who were determined to conquer."
If any should be disposed to think that my brother, in these letters, speaks too exclusively of his own doings, they must remember, in the first place, to whom they were addressed; and secondly, that in describing events—quorum pars magna fuit—it would be almost impossible not to speak of himself.
He himself, even in writing to his wife, thinks it necessary to apologize for being "egotistical." I believe, on the other hand, that the highest interest of the following narrative will be found to consist in its being a personal narrative, a history of the man, an unreserved outspeaking of his mind and feelings; nor am I afraid of others thinking apology called for. Nor, however much they may disagree from his criticisms on men and measures, will they deny that he was well qualified, both by his opportunities of observation at the time, and his past experience of Asiatic character, to form a judgment and express an opinion without exposing himself to the charge of presumption.
Umbâla, May 15th, 1857.
We got here after two nights of very harassing marching. We started badly, the men having been drinking before they came to parade, and they were hurried too much in going down hill, consequently there was much straggling; but, thanks to tattoos (ponies) and carts and elephants, sent out to meet us, we got in to-day in tolerable completeness. Affairs are very serious, and unless very prompt and vigorous measures are taken, the whole army, and perhaps a large portion of India, will be lost to us. Delhi is in the hands of the mutineers,—no European that we can hear of being left alive there,—men, women, and children, all who were caught, have been butchered! Brigadier Graves, Abbott, and some others have escaped. Willoughby, the Ordnance Commissary in charge of the magazine and arsenal, is said to have fired it himself to prevent the mutineers having possession of the contents to arm themselves with,—of course sacrificing his own life to such a duty. A lac and a half of muskets would otherwise have been in the hands of the insurgents. The Commander-in-Chief came in this morning. Here alarm is the prevalent feeling, and conciliation, of men with arms in their hands and in a state of absolute rebellion, the order of the day. This system, if pursued, is far more dangerous than anything the Sepoys can do to us. There is an outbreak at Ferozepoor, but the Europeans have the fort in their possession; if not, we should be without arms, for the regiments here have no ammunition, and Philour, our nearest source of supply, was nearly falling into the hands of the Sepoys. Even now, some say it is at their mercy. Fortunately the Maharaja of Puttiala is stanch, and so are other Sikh chiefs hereabouts. We shall go on to Delhi in a few days. That city is in the hands of the insurgents, and the King proclaimed Emperor of Hindostan! I do trust that the authorities will act with vigor, else there is no knowing where the affair will end. Oh for Sir Charles Napier now!
16th.—Little is known for certain of what is going on, as there is no communication with, or from, below. At present, the native troops have all gone off bodily; none remain in cantonments. We march, I believe, on Monday,—9th Lancers, 75th Queen's, 1st Fusileers, and nine guns, taking the 5th, 60th Native Infantry, and 4th Cavalry with us,—nice companions! However, they can do us no harm, and they might do great mischief if left here. There has been an outbreak at Ferozepoor and Philour, but the magazine and bridge at the first place are safe in the hands of her Majesty's 60th, and the authorities at Jullundur sent off a party of Europeans and Horse Artillery at once, who secured the fort at Philour; otherwise we should have had no ammunition but what the soldiers carried in their pouches. The times are critical, but I have no fear of aught save the alarm and indecision of our rulers. All here is sheer confusion, and there is a tendency to treat these rebellious Sepoys with a tenderness as misplaced as it would be pernicious. There is actually a talk of concentrating troops, and waiting to be joined by others before marching on Delhi; and they utterly refuse to detach even a party on Kurnâl to protect the officers and treasury there. This is all very sad, and sometimes makes one disposed to question whether we are not suffering from the "dementia" which Providence sends as the forerunner of ruin. However, our course is not yet run, and whatever clouds may gather over us, there are good results in store. The Punjaub is quiet. The native troops at Mean-Meer were quietly disarmed, and do their guards with bayonets only. This excellent arrangement is Sir John Lawrence's doing. Nothing is known of Lucknow, or indeed of any place below Meerut. Allygurh is supposed to have gone. Some details of the massacre at Delhi, which I have just heard from one of the escapees, are awful beyond belief. Charlie Thomason is said to have escaped; Mr. Jennings, the chaplain, and his daughter were among the victims. Mr. Beresford, his wife, and five daughters all massacred. Poor Colonel Ripley lived long enough to say he was killed by his own men. De Teissier's native artillerymen joined the rebels with their guns;—he escaped, though severely wounded.
17th.—We are all terribly anxious about the hill stations, reports having reached us that the Goorkhas have mutinied and attacked Simla. 100 men, with ammunition, have gone off this morning to Kussowlee. Dugshai is easily defended. Simla is most to be feared.... All this has put out of my head for the time the good news for us. Yesterday I was sent for by the Commander-in-Chief, and appointed Assistant Quartermaster-General on his personal staff, to be under the immediate orders of his Excellency, and with command to raise 100 horse and 50 foot, for service in the Intelligence Department, and as personal escort. All this was done, moreover, in a most complimentary way, and it is quite in my line. I am prepared to set to work vigorously; but I confess my anxiety on account of the reports we hear respecting the hill stations makes me cruelly anxious.... General Anson, it seems, wrote about me to Talbot, but could get no answer before the outbreak occurred, which makes this act of his, on his own responsibility, the more complimentary. It is very uncertain now when we move on. All is quiet in the Punjaub, I am thankful to say, and the rebels have had a lesson read them at Ferozepoor which will do good. The 45th Native Infantry were nearly cut to pieces by the 10th Light Cavalry,[18] who pursued them for twelve miles, and cut them to pieces. This last is a great fact. One regiment at least has stood by us, and the moral effect will be great; nothing known yet from below. Poor Macdonald, of the 20th Native Infantry, his wife, and their three babes, murdered, with adjuncts not to be mentioned. John Lawrence is acting with great vigor, and they have organized a movable force at Jhelum, composed of her Majesty's 24th and 27th, the Guides, Kumàon Battalion, and other Irregulars, to move in any required direction. Montgomery writes in great spirits and confidence from Lahore. I am just sent for by the chief.
Kurnâl, May 18th.—According to orders, I left Umbâla at 8.30 p. m., and reached here at 4.30 a. m., having prepared everything at Peeplee en route. I had only "Bux"[19] with me, and did not apprehend any danger until within a few miles of Kurnâl, but nothing whatever happened; the road was deserted, and not a soul to be seen. I am sheltered in a house occupied by the refugees from Delhi and the civil officers of Kurnâl, about fifteen in all, with Mrs. Wagentrieber, her husband, and sundry sergeants, &c. The European troops will be here to-night. What would I not give for a couple of hundred of my old Guides! I flatter myself I could do something then. As it is, I must bide my time until I can get a few good men together on whom I can depend. I have been so busy all day, writing letters on my knee, sending off electric messages, cum multis aliis. I can but rejoice that I am employed again; certain, too, as I am, that the star of Old England will shine the brighter in the end, and we shall hold a prouder position than ever. But the crisis is an awful one!
May 19th.—This morning the Commander-in-Chief ordered me to raise and command an entire new regiment of Irregular Horse. I do not know who or what has been at work for me, but he seems willing enough to give me work to do, and I am willing enough to do it. The European troops arrived this morning (I sent a telegraphic message to say so); and the Rajah of Jheend, with his men, last night. I have offered to clear the road and open the communication to Meerut and Delhi with the Rajah's Horse. If the Chief will consent, I think I am sure of success. It is believed that nothing has occurred at Agra. The Punjaub all quiet up to last night; as long as that is the case we shall do. With God and our Saxon arms to aid us, I have firm faith in the result.