[55] "Some of the incidents related by Mr. Forbes-Mitchell, and now for the first time brought to light in his most interesting series of Reminiscences, are of so sensational an order that we are not surprised that many persons to whom the narrator is a stranger should regard them with a certain incredulity. We may take this opportunity therefore of stating that, so far as it is possible at this date to corroborate incidents that occurred thirty-five years ago, Mr. Forbes-Mitchell has afforded us ample proof of the accuracy of his memory and the general correctness of his facts. In the case under notice, we have been shown the leaflet in which Mazar Ali's cold-blooded murder of his commanding officer is vindicated, and of which the English translation above given is an exact reproduction. The leaflet bears no evidence whatever to disclose its origin, but we see no reason to doubt that, as Mr. Forbes-Mitchell's informant declared, it was widely circulated in the bazaars of Upper India shortly after Mazar Ali paid the penalty of his crime with his own life."—Ed. Calcutta Statesman.
[56] The vendetta is such a well-known institution among the Pathâns, that no further explanation of Major Neill's murder by the son of a man who was executed by the Major's father's orders is necessary.
APPENDIX B
EUROPEANS AMONG THE REBELS
Although recollections of the Mutiny are fast being obliterated by the kindly hand of time, there must still be many readers who will remember the reports current in the newspapers of the time, and elsewhere in 1857 and 1858, of Europeans being seen in the ranks of the rebels. In a history of The Siege of Delhi, by an Officer who served there (name not given), published by Adam and Charles Black, Edinburgh, 1861, the following passages occur. After describing the battle of Budlee-ke-Serai, the writer goes on to say: "The brave old Afghân chief, Jân Fishân Khân,[57] who with some horsemen had followed our star from Meerut, was heard crying out, his stout heart big with the enthusiasm of the moment: 'Another such day, and I shall become a Christian!'" And in his comments on this the writer says: "And sad to tell, a European deserter from Meerut had been struck down fighting in the sepoy ranks, and was recognised by his former comrades." After describing the opening of the siege and the general contempt which the Europeans had for the enemy's artillery, the writer states that the tone of conversation in the camp was soon changed, and "From being an object of contempt, their skill became one of wonder and admiration, perhaps too great. Some artillery officers protested that their practice was better than our own. Many believed that their fire was under the superintendence of Europeans. Two men with solar helmets could be seen, by the help of our best glasses, in their batteries, but no one who knew how much of the work in India was really done by natives, wondered at the practical skill they now showed." Turning from Delhi to Lucknow, many will remember the account of the disastrous action at Chinhut by Mr. Rees. He says: "The masses of the rebel cavalry by which the British were outflanked near the Kookrail bridge, were apparently commanded by some European who was seen waving his sword and attempting to make his men follow him and dash at ours. He was a handsome-looking man, well-built, fair, about twenty-five years of age, with light moustaches, wearing the undress uniform of a European cavalry officer, with a blue, gold-laced cap on his head." Mr. Rees suggests the possibility of this person having been either a Russian or a renegade Christian.
The only other case to which I will allude came under my own observation. I have told in my fourteenth chapter how Brigadier Adrian Hope was killed in the abortive attack on the fort of Rooyah, by a shot fired from a high tree inside the fort, and how it was commonly believed that the man who fired the shot was a European. I myself thought at the time that such was the case, and now I am convinced of it. I was the non-commissioned officer of a party of the Ninety-Third sent to cover an engineer-officer who had either volunteered or been ordered to take a sketch of one of the fort gates and its approaches, in the hope of being able to blow it in, and thus gain an entrance to the fort, which was surrounded by a deep ditch, and inside the ditch an almost impenetrable belt of prickly bamboos about ten yards in breadth, so interwoven and full of thorns that a cat could scarcely have passed through it. Under the guidance of a native of the Intelligence Department, we managed to advance unseen, and got under cover of a thick clump of bamboos near the gate. Strict orders had been given that no one on any account whatever was to speak, much less to fire a shot, unless we should be attacked, for fear of drawing attention to our proceedings, till the engineer had had time to make a rough sketch of the position of the gate and its approaches. During this time we were so close to the fort that we could hear the enemy talking inside; and the man who was on the tree could be seen and heard by us quite plainly, calling to the stormers on the other face in unmistakable barrack-room English: "Come on, you —— Highlanders! Come on, Scotty! you have a harder nut to crack than eating oatmeal porridge. If you can come through these bamboos we'll warm your ---- for you, if you come in here!" etc., etc. In short, the person talking showed such a command of English slang and barrack-room abuse that it was clear he was no native. Every one of my party was convinced that the speaker was a European, and if we had been aware at the time that this man had just killed Brigadier Hope he would certainly have paid the penalty with his own life; but we knew nothing of this till we retired, and found that the stormers had been recalled, with the butcher's bill already given.
The events above related had almost passed from my recollection, till they were recalled by the following circumstance. A vacancy having occurred among the durwâns[58] in the factory under my charge, among several candidates brought by the jemadâr[59] for the vacant post was a fine-looking old man, who gave me an unmistakable military salute in the old style, square from the shoulder—quite different from the present mongrel German salute, which the English army has taken to imitating since the Germans beat their old conquerors, the French; I mean the present mode of saluting with the palm of the hand turned to the front. As soon as I saw this old man I knew he had been a soldier; my heart warmed to him at once, and I determined to give him the vacant appointment. So turning to him I said: "You have served in the army; are you one of the sepoys of 1857?" He at once admitted that he had formerly belonged to the Ninth Native Infantry, and that he was present with the regiment when it mutinied at Allyghur on the 20th of May, 1857. He had accompanied the regiment to Delhi, and had fought against the English throughout the siege, and afterwards at Lucknow and throughout the Oude campaigns. "But, Sâhib" said he, "the Ninth Regiment were almost the only regiment which did not murder their officers. We gave each of them three months' pay in advance from the treasury, and escorted them and their families within a safe distance of Agra before we went to Delhi, and all of us who lived to come through the Mutiny were pardoned by the Government." I knew this to be the truth, and ordered the jemadâr to enrol the applicant, by name Doorga, or Doorga Sing, late sepoy of the Ninth Native Infantry, as one of the factory durwâns, determining to have many a talk with him on his experiences of the Mutiny.
Many of my readers may recollect that, after escorting their European officers to the vicinity of Agra, the Ninth Regiment went to Delhi, and throughout the siege the men of this regiment proved the most daring opponents of the British Army. According to Mead's Sepoy Revolt, "The dead bodies of men bearing the regimental number of the Ninth Regiment were found in the front line of every severe engagement around Delhi and at the deadly Cashmere Gate when it was finally stormed." After engaging Doorga Sing it was not long before I made him relate his experiences of the siege of Delhi, and afterwards at Lucknow and in Oude, and one day I happened to ask him if it was true that there were several Europeans in the rebel army. He told me that he had heard of several, but that he personally knew of two only, one of whom accompanied the mutineers from Meerut and was killed at the battle of Budlee-ke-Serai,—evidently the deserter alluded to above. The other European was a man of superior stamp, who came to Delhi from Rohilcund with the Bareilly Brigade, and the King gave him rank in the rebel army next to General Bukht Khân, the titular Commander-in-Chief, This European commanded the artillery throughout the siege of Delhi, as he had formerly been in the Company's artillery and knew the drill better than any man in the rebel army. I asked Doorga Sing if he had ever heard his name or what rank he held before the Mutiny, and he said he had heard his name at the time, but had forgotten it, and that before the Mutiny he had held the rank of sergeant-major, but whether in the native artillery or in one of the native infantry regiments at Bareilly he did not now recollect. But the Bâdshâh promoted him to be general of artillery immediately on the arrival of the Bareilly Brigade, and he was by far the bravest and most energetic commander that the rebels had, and the most esteemed by the revolted sepoys, whose respect he retained to the last. Even after they had ceased saluting their native officers they continued to turn out guards and present arms to the European sâhib. Throughout the siege of Delhi there was never a day passed that this man did not visit every battery, and personally correct the elevation of the guns. He fixed the sites and superintended the erection of all new batteries to counteract the fire of the English as the siege advanced. On the day of the assault, the 14th of September, he fought like shâitân,[60] fighting himself and riding from post to post, trying to rally defeated sepoys, and bringing up fresh troops to the support of assailed points. Doorga Sing's company had formed the guard at the Cashmere Gate, and he vividly described the attack and defence of that post, and how completely the sepoys were surprised and the powder-bags fixed to the gate before the sentries of the guard were aware of the advance of the English.