Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny 1857-59 / Including the relief, siege, and capture of Lucknow, and the campaigns in Rohilcund and Oude

by William Forbes-Mitchell

On the 6th of May the troops were under arms, and advanced on the city of Bareilly. But little opposition was offered, except from one large house on the outskirts of the town, in which a body of about fifty Rohilla Ghâzis had barricaded themselves, and a company (I think it was No. 6 of the Ninety-Third) was sent to storm the house, after several shells had been pitched into it. This was done without much loss, except that of one man; I now forget his name, but think it was William MacDonald. He rushed into a room full of Ghâzis, who, before his comrades could get to his assistance, had cut him into sixteen pieces with their sharp tulwârs! As the natives said, he was cut into annas.[49] But the house was taken, and the whole of the Ghâzis slain, with only the loss of this one man killed and about half a dozen wounded.

While this house was being stormed the townspeople sent a deputation of submission to the Commander-in-Chief, and by ten o'clock we had pitched our camp near the ruins of the church which had been destroyed twelve months before. Khân Bahâdoor Khân and the Nânâ Sâhib were reported to have fled in the direction of the Nepâl Terâi, while Feroze Shâh, with a force of cavalry and guns, had gone back to attack Shâhjehânpore.

About mid-day on the 6th a frightful accident happened, by which a large number of camp-followers and cattle belonging to the ordnance-park were killed. Whether for concealment or by design (it was never known which) the enemy had left a very large quantity of gunpowder and loaded shells in a dry well under a huge tree in the centre of the old cantonment. The well had been filled to the very mouth with powder and shells, and then covered with a thin layer of dry sand. A large number of ordnance khalâsies,[50] bullock-drivers, and dooly-bearers had congregated under the tree to cook their mid-day meal, lighting their fires right on the top of this powder-magazine, when it suddenly exploded with a most terrific report, shaking the ground for miles, making the tent-pegs fly out of the hard earth, and throwing down tents more than a mile from the spot. I was lying down in a tent at the time, and the concussion was so great that I felt as if lifted clear off the ground. The tent-pegs flew out all round, and down came the tents, before the men, many of whom were asleep, had time to get clear of the canvas. By the time we got our arms free of the tents, bugles were sounding the assembly in all directions, and staff-officers galloping over the plain to ascertain what had happened. The spot where the accident had occurred was easily found. The powder having been in a deep well, it acted like a huge mortar, fired perpendicularly; an immense cloud of black smoke was sent up in a vertical column at least a thousand yards high, and thousands of shells were bursting in it, the fragments flying all round in a circle of several hundred yards. As the place was not far from the ammunition-park, the first idea was that the enemy had succeeded in blowing up the ammunition; but those who had ever witnessed a similar accident could see that, whatever had happened, the concussion was too great to be caused by only one or two waggon-loads of powder. From the appearance of the column of smoke and the shells bursting in it, as if shot out of a huge mortar, it was evident that the accident was confined to one small spot, and the belief became general that the enemy had exploded an enormous mine. But after some time the truth became known, the troops were dispersed, and the tents repitched. This explosion was followed in the afternoon by a most terrific thunderstorm and heavy rain, which nearly washed away the camp. The storm came on as the non-commissioned officers of the Ninety-Third and No. 2 company were falling in to bury Colour-Sergeant Mackie, who had been knocked down by the sun the day before and had died that forenoon. Just when we were lowering the body into the grave, there was a crash of thunder almost as loud as the explosion of the powder-mine. The ground becoming soaked with rain, the tent-pegs drew and many tents were again thrown down by the force of the hurricane; and as everything we had became soaked, we passed a most uncomfortable night.

On the morning of the 7th of May we heard that Colonel Hale and the wing of the Eighty-Second left in the jail at Shâhjehânpore had been attacked by Feroze Shâh and the Nânâ Sâhib, and were sore pushed to defend themselves. A brigade, consisting of the Sixtieth Rifles, Seventy-Ninth Highlanders, several native regiments, the Ninth Lancers, and some batteries of artillery, under Brigadier John Jones ("the Avenger") was at once started back for the relief of Shâhjehânpore—rather a gloomy outlook for the hot weather of 1858! While this brigade was starting, the remainder of the force which was to hold Bareilly for the hot season, consisting of the Forty-Second, Seventy-Eighth, and Ninety-Third, shifted camp to the sandy plain near where Bareilly railway station now stands, hard by the little fort in the centre of the plain. There we remained in tents during the whole of May, large working parties being formed every morning to assist the engineers to get what shelter was possible ready for the hottest months. The district jail was arranged as barracks for the Ninety-Third, and we moved into them on the 1st of June. The Forty-Second got the old cutchery[51] buildings with a new thatch roof; and the Seventy-Eighth had the Bareilly College. There we remained till October, 1858.

I omitted to mention in its proper place that on the death of Adrian Hope, Colonel A. S. Leith-Hay, of the Ninety-Third, succeeded to the command of the brigade, and Major W. G. A. Middleton got command of the regiment till we rejoined the Commander-in-Chief, when it was found that Lieutenant-Colonel Ross, who had exchanged with Lieutenant-Colonel C. Gordon, had arrived from England and taken command before we retook Bareilly.

We remained in Bareilly from May till October in comparative peace. We had one or two false alarms, and a wing of the Forty-Second, with some cavalry and artillery, went out about the beginning of June to disperse a body of rebels who were threatening an attack on Morâdabâd.

These reminiscences do not, as I have before remarked, profess to be a history of the Mutiny except in so far as I saw it from the ranks of the Ninety-Third. But I may correct historical mistakes when I find them, and in vol. ii., p. 500, of The Indian Empire, by R. Montgomery Martin, the following statement occurs: "Khân Bahâdoor Khân, of Bareilly, held out in the Terâi until the close of 1859; and then, hemmed in by the Goorkhas on one side and the British forces on the other, was captured by Jung Bahâdoor. The Khân is described as an old man, with a long white beard, bent almost double with rheumatic fever. His life is considered forfeited by his alleged complicity in the Bareilly murders, but his sentence is not yet pronounced." This is not historically correct. Khân Bahâdoor Khân was captured by the Bareilly police-levy early in July, 1858, and was hanged in my presence in front of the kotwâlee in Bareilly a few days after his capture. He was an old man with a long white beard, but not at all bent with age, and there was certainly no want of proof of his complicity in the Bareilly murders. Next to the Nânâ Sâhib he was one of the most active instigators of murder in the rebel ranks. He was a retired judge of the Company's service, claiming descent from the ancient rulers of Rohilcund, whom the English, in the time of Warren Hastings, had assisted the Nawâb of Lucknow to put down in the Rohilla war. His capture was effected in the following manner:—Colonel W. C. M'Donald, of the Ninety-Third, was on the staff in the Crimea, and he had in his employ a man named Tâhir Beg who was a sort of confidential interpreter. Whether this man was Turkish, Armenian, or Bulgarian I don't know, but this much I do know; among Mahommedans Tâhir Beg was a strict Mussulman, among Bulgarians he was a Roman Catholic, and in the Ninety-Third he had no objections to be a Presbyterian. He was a good linguist, speaking English, French, and Turkish, as well as most of the vernaculars of Asia Minor; and when the Crimean war was over, he accompanied Major M'Donald to England in the capacity of an ordinary servant. In 1857, when the expedition under Lord Elgin was being got ready for China, Colonel M'Donald was appointed quarter-master-general, and started for Canton taking Tâhir Beg with him as a servant; but, the expedition to China having been diverted for the suppression of the Mutiny, M'Donald rejoined the regiment with Tâhir Beg still with him in the same capacity. From his knowledge of Turkish and Persian Tâhir Beg soon made himself master of Hindoostânee, and he lived in the regimental bazaar with the Mahommedan shopkeepers, among whom he professed himself a strict follower of the Prophet. After he became pretty well conversant with the language, it was reported that he gained much valuable information for the authorities. When Bareilly was recaptured arrangements were made for the enlistment of a police-levy, and Tâhir Beg got the appointment of city kotwâl[52] and did valuable service by hunting out a great number of leading rebels. It was Tâhir Beg who heard that Khân Bahâdoor Khân had returned to the vicinity of Bareilly with only a small body of followers; and he arranged for his capture, and brought him in a prisoner to the guard-room of the Ninety-Third. Khân Bahâdoor Khân was put through a brief form of trial by the civil power, and was found guilty of rebellion and murder upon both native and European evidence. By that time several Europeans who had managed to escape to Naini Tâl on the outbreak of the Mutiny through the favour of the late Râja of Râmpore, had returned; so there was no doubt of the prisoner's guilt.

I must mention another incident that happened in Bareilly. Among the gentlemen who returned from Naini Tâl, was one whose brother had been shot by his bearer, his most trusted servant. This ruffian turned out to be no other than the very man who had denounced Jamie Green as a spy. It was either early in August or at the end of July that a strange European gentleman, while passing through the regimental bazaar of the Ninety-Third, noticed an officer's servant, who was a most devout Christian, could speak English, and was a regular attendant at all soldiers' evening services with the regimental chaplain. The gentleman (I now forget his name) laid hold of our devout Christian brother in the bazaar, and made him over to the nearest European guard, when he was tried and found guilty of the murder of a whole family of Europeans—husband, wife, and children—in May, 1857. There was no want of evidence, both European and native, against him. Thus was the death of the unfortunate Jamie Green avenged. I may add a rather amusing incident about this man. His master evidently believed that this was a case of mistaken identity, and went to see the brigadier, Colonel A. S. Leith-Hay, on behalf of his servant. But it turned out that the man had joined the British camp at Futtehghur in the preceding January, and Colonel Leith-Hay was the first with whom he had taken service and consequently knew the fellow. However, the brigadier listened to what the accused's master had to urge until he mentioned that the man was a most devout Christian, and read the Bible morning and evening. On this Colonel Leith-Hay could listen to the argument no longer, but shouted out:—"He a Christian! that be d—d for a statement! He's no more a Christian than I am! He served me for one month, and robbed me of more than ten times his pay. Let him be hanged." So he was made over to the civil commissioner, tried, found guilty, and hanged.

We rested in Bareilly till October. About the end of September the weather was comparatively cool. Many people had returned from Naini Tâl to look after their wrecked property. General Colin Troup with the Sixty-Sixth Regiment of Goorkhas had come down from Kumâon, and soldiers' sports were got up for the amusement of the troops and visitors. Among the latter was the loyal Râja of Râmpore, who presented a thousand rupees for prizes for the games and five thousand for a dinner to all the troops in the garrison. At these games the Ninety-Third carried off all the first prizes for putting the shot, throwing the hammer, and tossing the caber. Our best athlete was a man named George Bell, of the grenadier company, the most powerful man in the British army. Before the regiment left England Bell had beaten all comers at all the athletic games throughout Scotland. He stood about six feet four inches, and was built in proportion, most remarkably active for his size both in running and leaping, and also renowned for feats of strength. There was a young lad of the band named Murdoch MacKay, the smallest boy in the regiment, but a splendid dancer; and the two, "the giant and the pigmy," as they were called, attended all the athletic games throughout Scotland from Edinburgh to Inverness, always returning covered with medals. I mention all this because the Bareilly sports proved the last to poor George Bell. An enormous caber having been cut, and all the leading men (among them some very powerful artillerymen) of the brigade had tried to toss it and failed. The brigadier then ordered three feet to be cut from it, expressing his opinion that there was not a man in the British army who could toss it. On this George Bell stepped into the arena, and said he would take a turn at it before it was cut; he put the huge caber on his shoulders, balanced it, and tossed it clean over. While the caber was being cut for the others, Bell ran in a hundred yards' race, which he also won; but he came in with his mouth full of blood. He had, through over-exertion, burst a blood-vessel in his lungs. He slowly bled to death and died about a fortnight after we left Bareilly, and lies buried under a large tree in the jungles of Oude between Fort Mithowlie and the banks of the Gogra. Bell was considered an ornament to, and the pride of, the regiment, and his death was mourned by every officer and man in it, and by none more than by our popular doctor, Billy Munro, who did everything that a physician could do to try and stop the bleeding; but without success. Bell gradually sank till he died.

We left Bareilly on the 10th of October, and marched to Shâhjehânpore, where we were joined by a battalion of the Sixtieth Rifles, the Sixty-Sixth Goorkhas, some of the Sixth Carabineers, Tomb's troop of horse-artillery, and a small train of heavy guns and mortars. On the 17th of October we had our first brush with the enemy at the village of Posgaon, about twenty miles from Shâhjehânpore. Here they were strong in cavalry, and tried the Bareilly game of getting round the flanks and cutting up our camp-followers. But a number of them got hemmed in between the ammunition-guard and the main line, and Cureton's Mooltânee cavalry, coming round on them from both flanks, cut down about fifty of them, capturing their horses. In the midst of this scrimmage two of the enemy, getting among the baggage-guard, were taken for two of our native cavalry, till at length they separated from the main body and got alongside of a man who was some distance away. One of them called to the poor fellow to look in another direction, when the second one cut his head clean off, leaped from his horse, and, lifting the head, sprang into his saddle and was off like the wind! Many rifle-bullets were sent after him, but he got clear away, carrying the head with him.