_1843-1844. CAMPAIGN IN GWALIOR. HURDWAR_
16th Lancers--Delhi--The city--Kutub--Feroze’s Lath--Divers--
Muttra--Affairs in Gwalior--Army of Exercise--Halt--City of
Krishna--River Chumbul--Across--Sehoree--Before the battle--
Battle of Maharajpore--The 16th--“The Brigadier”--Search for
wounded--General Churchill--Lieutenant Cavanagh--The muster-roll--
Next night--The killed and wounded--Resume the advance--News of
Punniar--Queen Regent--Around our camp--Gwalior--The fort--
Disarming the conquered--Breaking up--Repassing the field of
battle--Meerut--The welcome--Writing to the papers--Native troops--
Hurdwar--Religious festival--The Dhoon--Return--Batta--A native
regiment disbanded--Unrest in Punjab--Rejoin the Buffs.
On the day the Buffs began their march, I proceeded to join the 16th
Lancers, to which distinguished regiment I had been, by General Orders,
attached for duty. Ten nights were passed in travelling by palkee dâk.
In early morning of the eleventh day the Kutub was seen in bold relief
against the indistinct horizon, for the atmosphere was laden with dust.
After a little time, the Jumna was crossed by a bridge of boats; then
another interval, and I was hospitably received by Dr. Ross, to whom I
had an introduction.
Various places of interest in the imperial city were visited in turn.
The Jumna Musjid, or chief mosque, its domes and minarets imposing in
their grandeur; the balcony in the Chandee Chouk, whereon, in 1739,
Nadir Shah sat witnessing the massacre of the inhabitants; the palace
of the once “Great Mogul”; the smaller building in its garden, within
which had stood “the Peacock Throne”; the remnants of the crystal seat
upon which, in ancient times, monarchs were crowned; those of numerous
fountains; the Persian inscription, to the effect that “If there is an
Elysium upon earth, it is this.” But from the ruins around, frogs and
lizards stared at us; the once gorgeous palaces, and all that pertained
to them, were smeared over with filth.
At a distance of twelve miles from the city stands the Kutub,
surrounded by numerous remains of buildings, the road through all that
way being along a space covered by ruins of various kinds. The Cashmere
gate of Delhi by which we emerged was then noted as the place where
Mr. Fraser, Resident at the Court of the Emperor, was murdered, and
where Shumshoodeen, the instigator of that crime, was executed; it
was to become famous as the scene of severe but victorious struggle
against the mutineers in 1857. About two miles onwards stood the ruins
of an astronomical observatory, one of two of their kind in India, the
other being at Benares. A little farther on was the tomb of Sufter
Jung, minister to the princes of Delhi; then continuous ranges of ruins
until we arrive at Feroze’s Lath, a metal pillar, the history of which
is somewhat obscure, but on which marks of shot indicate attempts by
Nadir Shah to destroy it. Now we reach the Kutub, a pillar sixty-five
yards in circumference at the base, the ascent within it comprising
three hundred and twenty-nine steps, the exterior interrupted by four
terraces. Legend relates that it is Hindoo in origin; history that
its exterior ornamentation was seriously damaged by the Mahomedan
conquerors. Not far from it are the ruins of what would seem to have
been a tower of still larger dimensions. In the vicinity of the latter
a deep well, into which from a height of sixty feet natives dived,
performing strange evolutions in mid-air as they did so.
From Delhi to Muttra the journey was made along by-paths across
country. In camp near the latter-named city were the 16th, commanded by
Colonel Cureton, and there I joined them. The fact had meantime been
promulgated that the destination of “the Army of Exercise” was to be
Gwalior. The force so named, 30,000 strong, was to be divided into two
wings or corps, to enter that State simultaneously from two directions.
That from the south and eastward comprised the Buffs, 50th Regiment,
9th Lancers, Artillery, Native Cavalry, and Native Infantry; that from
the west, the 16th Lancers, 39th and 40th Regiments, a strong force of
Artillery, 1st and 10th Regiments of Native Cavalry, 4th Irregulars,
and several regiments of Native Infantry.
While arrangements for active movements were being matured, those of
us on whom as yet cares of office had not descended, passed our time
in visiting places of interest in and near the cities of Muttra and
Bindrabund, both held sacred by Hindoos in relation to the life of
Krishna. In the last-named city we were only permitted to approach the
principal temple that stood close to its entrance gate, but from the
distance we could see, stretching far away as it seemed to us, the
vista of its interior, dimly lighted by hanging lamps; at its extreme
end the emblem of the deity to whom it was dedicated, resplendent with
gems and precious stones. Everywhere along the narrow streets and from
the flat roofs of their houses armies of “sacred” baboons grinned and
chattered at us. A picnic to some characteristically Indian gardens[34]
adjoining the banks of the Jumna furnished us with another pleasant
interlude.
The division of the force of which the 16th were part resumed its
march; in three days arrived at its assigned position not far from Agra
and there encamped, pending the result of an ultimatum dispatched by
the Governor-General to the disaffected Gwalior leaders. Meanwhile,
arrivals of the high civil and military officials, additions to the
force, salutes and festivities afforded all of us pleasant occupation
and variety.
The answer of the chiefs arrives; its terms are defiant. War against
the State immediately proclaimed[35] by Lord Ellenborough; portions of
the force put in motion towards the river Chumbul, among them the 16th.
The appointed rendezvous near Dholpore is speedily reached, and there
we encamp.
A vakeel arrives in camp, bearer of a dispatch by which the leaders of
Gwalior rebels submit proposals for peace, on their own terms. They are
at once refused. By daybreak next morning the force is in motion. Three
hours suffice for crossing the Chumbul, an operation effected without
important incident; establishments follow without delay; camp is
pitched on hostile territory. The aspect of our position and immediate
vicinity presents uneven ground, intersected by deep ravines, destitute
of roadways. Our halt is of short duration. Early next morning the
force emerged on open country; in due time arrived in near proximity to
the village of Sehoree, and there encamped.
Meanwhile, information was received that Gwalior forces were
rapidly concentrating in our front. Officers on the staff of our
Quartermaster-General reconnoitred the country to a radius of ten miles
and more around our camp. Soon the “Chief”[36] issued orders that the
march should be resumed next day, and the Mahrattas attacked if met
with.
Conversation at mess turned upon the probable events so soon to
transpire; extemporised plans by individual officers indicated the
several views they entertained of what was to happen. The very
young expressed hopes that the enemy would show good fight; some of
their number speculated on the chances of promotion before them.
Then broke in one of the seniors, who had gained experience of war
in Affghanistan: “I have just been employed in making a few little
arrangements in case of accidents.” “Highly proper,” remarked another
“for no one knows what to-morrow may bring forth.”
At daylight on December 29 our force began its advance, its manner of
distribution to make an attack simultaneously on front and flank of the
position known to have been occupied by the Mahrattas the previous
evening. But during the night they had taken up a new position,
considerably in advance, and from it unexpectedly opened fire on our
leading columns. The general force was at once directed upon the new
position. Horse Artillery commanded by Captain Grant[37] at full gallop
rode directly at the Gwalior battery; opened fire upon it with crushing
effect, and within the space of a few minutes reduced it to silence.
Having done so, away again at full gallop Captain Grant led his battery
against one on the left of the former, that had meanwhile opened upon
us, our infantry columns plodding their way, slowly but steadily,
against its line of fire. Very soon that battery also was silenced.
The infantry were at work with the bayonet with terrible effect upon
the enemy, with very heavy loss to our own forces, in men, horses, and
ammunition. A third battery began its deadly work upon other bodies of
infantry, in motion onwards. Again Captain Grant led his troop against
it with the same result; then arrived the infantry, including the 39th
and 40th British regiments; then hand-to-hand conflict, and then--the
positions were in the grasp of our forces.
While thus the conflict raged fiercely, the 16th, led by Colonel
Rowland Smyth,[38] together with the two cavalry regiments[39] brigaded
with them, were ordered to sweep round the rebel camp, cut off,
destroy, or disperse those who, driven from their guns, might take to
flight. The Lancers dashed onwards at the charge, the bright steel and
showy pennants of their weapons seeming to skim the ground, while at
intervals stray rebels fell lifeless. The Gwalior men, anticipating
such a manœuvre, had taken precautions against its complete success;
the position for heaviest guns selected by them had along its front a
ravine of great breadth and depth. Upon its edge the cavalry suddenly
came, nor is it clear by what means they escaped being precipitated
into it. There was for a moment some confusion as the halt was sounded;
eighteen guns directly in front, six others in flank sent their
missiles through our ranks or high above them. To remain exposed to
risks of more perfect practice would serve no good purpose; there
was no alternative but to retire. The infantry were seen advancing;
down one side of the ravine, lost to sight; up the further side, then
onwards, into the batteries, and then--the fight was won.
When at first the 16th took the position assigned to them on the
field, it may have been that my endeavours to discover what was
subsequently called “the first line of assistance” were unsuccessful;
it may have been that they were not very keenly made, at any rate
“the Brigadier”--for so was named the troop horse I rode--knew his
right place in the ranks, and so enabled me to witness the events now
described.
Returning to my proper duties, I joined the parties who traversed the
field of battle in search of wounded. Great, alas! was the number who
lay prostrate,--many dead, many more suffering from wounds. Among the
latter was General Churchill, his injuries of a nature to make him
aware that speedy death was inevitable. While being attended to with
all possible care, he requested me to take charge of the valuable watch
he wore, and after his demise to send it to his son-in-law, Captain
Mitchell[40] of the 6th Foot, at that time serving in South Africa.
During the night he died, and his request was carried out by me.
At a short distance lay, in the growing crop that covered the field of
battle, Lieutenant Cavanagh of the 4th Irregulars, loudly calling to
attract attention, supporting by his hands a limb from which dangled
the foot and part of the leg, his other limb grazed by a round shot
which inflicted both wounds, and passed through his horse, now lying
dead beside him. He was taken to the hospital tents, where meanwhile
wounded soldiers and officers in considerable numbers had accumulated.
The surgeons’ work begun, three[41] of us mutually assisted each other.
The turn of Lieutenant Cavanagh to be attended to having come, he
made a request that we should “just wait a bit while he wrote to his
wife,” for he had recently been married. This done, he submitted to
amputation, and during that process uttered no cry or groan, though
nothing in the shape of anæsthetic was given, nor had chloroform as
such been discovered; then, during the interval purposely permitted
to elapse between the operation and final dressing, he continued his
letter to his young wife, these circumstances illustrating the courage
and endurance so characteristic among men (and women) at the time
referred to. His case was one of many men who had to be succoured that
day.
Meanwhile the force was in process of encamping on the field so
gallantly won; the 16th paraded for roll call, the band of the regiment
playing “The Convent Bells,” the notes of which long years thereafter
recalled the day and occasion. Casualties[42] among the men were
only nine; but among the horses more numerous than they had been at
Waterloo, where as Light Dragoons the 16th so highly distinguished
themselves.[43]
The arduous and responsible work of the day over, those of us who
could do so withdrew to our tents, our hearts full of gratitude to
the Almighty for individual safety, there to obtain such measure of
rest and quiet as under the circumstances was procurable; for all
through the evening and early hours of night the bright glare from
burning villages, the dense smoke from others, the dull heavy sound
of exploding mines made the hours hideous. Such was the battle of
“Maharajpore.”
During the evening the mangled remains of what in the morning had been
a band of brave men were committed to earth. With returning daylight
the same sad task was continued, all possible honour being shown to the
dead according to the rank they had held, from that of General Officer
in the person of General Churchill, who had succumbed in the course
of the night, to that of the private soldier. Meantime, in tents the
work of attending to the wounded went steadily on. There, officers and
men whom we personally knew, lay helpless; among them Major Bray, of
the 39th, and his son in adjoining cots, the former terribly burnt by
the explosion of a mine, the life-blood of the latter ebbing through a
bullet-wound in his chest.[44] And there were many other very painful
instances, to the aid of whom our best endeavours had to be directed.
It was for the time being impossible to carry on with the army, in its
further advance, the large number of wounded with which it was now
encumbered. A guard sufficiently strong to protect the extemporised
field hospital having been detailed, the general force resumed its
march, the intention being to press on as rapidly as possible to the
capital. Along a tract of soft sandy country, oppressed by heat,
exhausted by the fatigue of the previous day, the troops plodded their
weary way, in their progress passing many relics of the recent fight,
including shot, arms, shreds of clothing, dead bodies of animals and of
men, etc.
At last the halt resounded from trumpet and bugle; for a time we rested
as best we could, and then the tents having arrived we encamped. Some
further delay was rendered necessary by circumstances. During that and
the succeeding day information was received in camp that while the
battle was proceeding in the vicinity of Maharajpore, an engagement
equally formidable took place between the Mahrattas and the force under
General Grey at Punniar, on the eastern border of the Gwalior State;
that in it the Buffs had sustained a loss in killed of one officer
and thirteen men, in wounded of three officers and sixty men,--the
casualties in the 50th being equally numerous.
The arrival in camp of the Queen Regent, together with her Sirdars,
and the young Maharajah, the salute on the accession of whom some
ten months previous has been already mentioned, caused no little
excitement, and at the same time much speculation among us. Later on,
however, the report spread that the result of their interview with the
Governor-General was by both parties deemed satisfactory.
As some among us took rides in different directions around our camp,
not an armed man was met with. In some of the villages visited
individuals who had escaped the carnage of the previous day were found
lying more or less completely stripped of clothing, and wounded, some
of them dead. The villagers had fallen upon the fugitives, robbed them
of all they possessed, then turned them adrift. They had failed, and
they paid the penalty of failure.
The march resumed, the force in due time reached the immediate vicinity
of Gwalior, and there encamped. The huge fortress seemed to tower
above us, while the neighbouring hills looked as if from their summits
a well-directed fire could have swept the country to a considerable
distance around. Within a couple of days arrived the force under
General Grey and the Seepree contingent under Brigadier Stubbs.
Negotiations had so far advanced that the latter took possession of the
fort, the camp of the former adding very considerably to the dimensions
of the great canvas city already existing. Rapidly and completely did
the routine of life to which for some time past we had been accustomed
undergo a change: complimentary visits and entertainments, each
regiment entertaining every one else and being in turn entertained by
them. By the high officials durbars and receptions were held, to which
ceremonials Representatives of Gwalior having given their presence,
the fact that they did so indicated that the end of our expedition was
approaching.
Connected with the strong fortress by which the city of Gwalior is
dominated were many points of interest; among them the general aspect
of decay as seen from without, the tortuous narrow lane that leads to
it, the steep and difficult flight of stone steps by which the ascent
must be made, and powerful gates that seemed to lead but to a mass
of ruins. Within the defences we were face to face with remains of
temples, pillars, and arches pertaining to edifices of the Jains;[45]
there were remains of what had been reservoirs of large dimensions and
beautiful workmanship, in some portions of which clear water glistened
in the sunlight. Only one piece of ordnance was met with; it was an
ancient gun, seventeen feet in length, and apparently capable of
discharging a fifty-eight pound shot.
The process of disarming the Gwalior troops was next
performed--somewhat slowly at first, and not without some risk of
difficulty, but more rapidly as information circulated among them that
they were to receive all arrears of pay due, and a certain number of
them taken into the service of “the Company.”[46] Then did they march
to the places assigned to them in battalions, their bands playing what
was intended to be “God Save the Queen”; finally laying down their arms
and surrendering their colours, all of which, packed on elephants, were
taken to the fort. The artillery and cavalry gave theirs up elsewhere.
The wounded from different regiments were collected in camp,
those among them fit to undergo the journey towards Allahabad
being dispatched thither by means of doolies and native carts
(hackeries),--the orders of the Commander-in-Chief, as expressed by
himself, being that their progress thither should be by “easy stages
and intermediate halts.” From Allahabad they were to be conveyed by
means of native boats to Calcutta, and there embarked on board one
or more of the most comfortably and well-equipped ships proceeding
viâ the Cape to England. For those whose condition was more serious,
accommodation was provided in camp, and in public buildings outside
the city of Gwalior. Among those so left were three respected
officers of the Buffs. Of these, Captain Chatterton and Dr. Macqueen
shortly afterwards succumbed to the disease--induced by the trials of
active service. The death of the third--namely, Captain Magrath--was
attended by a little circumstance which showed that the spirit of
romance persisted to the last in him. During the battle at Punniar,
he, together with thirteen men of his company, were blown up by the
explosion of a tumbril that they were in the act of capturing. Captain
Magrath and twelve of the soldiers with him speedily succumbed, or
were instantly killed. When his body was being prepared for burial,
there, over the region of the heart, was found a lady’s glove; nor was
it difficult, bearing in mind some of the most pleasant incidents at
Allahabad already recorded, to indicate the hand to which the memento
originally pertained.
A general parade of the combined forces now took place. On that
occasion the young Maharajah accompanied the Governor-General, by whom,
in the course of his address, sufficient was expressed to raise hopes
that further service on the Punjab frontier was to be immediately
undertaken. But this was not to be.
Disintegration of “the Army of Exercise” forthwith began, in obedience
to orders issued. Starting on their return march, the 16th traversed
the field on which, twenty-nine days previous, the battle already
mentioned had taken place. At short distances over its extent lay
bodies of men and horses far advanced in decomposition; fragments of
natives and equipments everywhere. The village of Maharajpore reduced
to charred ruins; in their midst numbers of dead bodies of those who
had so manfully stood their ground and perished as they did so. In
what had been a room or enclosure a confused heap of what had been
men further testified to the obstinacy of the defence. In some places
miserable-looking inhabitants were searching among the ruins for
property and houses. Such was the wreck of battle.
Thence to Meerut the march of the Lancers was uneventful. Halts for a
day were made respectively at Hattras and Alighur, associated as those
places are with early campaigns of the century. At the latter fortress
we visited the gate and approach thereto through which was made the
historic charge by the 76th Regiment;[47] then the monument to officers
and men who fell on that occasion, and at Laswaree soon thereafter.
Twenty days _en route_; the 16th re-enter Meerut, whence they had
started on service now happily performed. Very touching were meetings
between wives and their husbands; though to younger and less thoughtful
men the full significance of husband and father restored to those
dependent on him had yet to be realized.
A series of entertainments, including regimental dinners and a station
ball, welcomed the return to cantonments of the 16th and troop of Horse
Artillery, now under Captain Alexander, that had so much distinguished
itself at Maharajpore. Preparations rapidly pushed on for the annual
race for “the Lancer Cup,” and all seemed to settle down for the hot
season of 1844, then fast approaching.
A young (Artillery) officer had the indiscretion to write to the
papers a severe criticism--from his point of view--on the tactics
to which, according to himself, was due the heavy cost in killed
and wounded at which the recent victory had been gained. A second
officer made open boast of the help he had given in preparing that
letter, and both of them boasted pretentiously of what they had done.
But soon the attention of the “authorities,” including the venerable
Commander-in-Chief, was drawn to the comments in question, with the
result to the subalterns concerned that, as expressed at the time, they
were “come down upon like a sledge-hammer.” Popular verdict declared
that the example set by them, if followed, would destroy all discipline.
The date on which, according to ancient custom, the great Hindoo
religious festival of the year was to be held at Hurdwar was near at
hand. As on similar occasions, arrangements were made to send to that
place a small body of native troops, those detailed for the purpose
being men of the 53rd N.I. and 10th Cavalry, I placed in departmental
charge. Our march thither began in the middle of March. As we
proceeded, we went along through a highly cultivated country, many of
the fields covered with “golden grain,” for it was the season of barley
harvest. More and more distinct became the snowy peaks and precipices
of the Himalayahs; denser and more dense the masses of pilgrims toiling
their weary way to the sacred shrine, for the occasion was that of the
greater fair known as Kumbh Mela, held every twelfth year.[48]
Situated directly on the right bank of the Ganges, where that river
emerges from the Himalayahs, the surroundings of Hurdwar are extremely
beautiful, comprising hill, valley, forest, and stream. At short
intervals temples stand; ghats or steps that lead downward to the
sacred stream are crowded with devotees. In the clear, rapid stream,
men, women, children, and fish commingle--for, like the river, the fish
are sacred. The hills immediately behind the town are of the Sewalik
range. Along their face occur a series of what were roads, though now
scarcely deserving the name; on either side of them are veritable rock
dwellings, now occupied by Fakeers. To the geologist the same range
has interest connected with the remains of extinct animals contained
therein; among them, of Ganesa’s elephant, that lived, died, and became
imbedded in marshes subsequently to be upheaved and so form the range
referred to.
On this occasion[49] an estimated number of two hundred thousand
persons were assembled on and in the immediate neighbourhood of the
ghats to take part in what was called “the great celebration.” At a
given signal by the Brahmin priests, the masses precipitated themselves
into the river, there to perform their religious ceremonies. Of the
number who did so, about fifteen thousand were women; but it was said
that during some previous years female devotees had been fewer than
heretofore. After nightfall the river was illuminated by floating lamps
as already described in reference to the Jumna at Allahabad, the scene
presented being, as on that occasion, very beautiful.
An excursion to a distance of twenty miles or so up the valley of the
Dhoon, undertaken for the combined purposes of shooting small game and
relaxation, introduced us to surroundings very beautiful in themselves,
full also of living things, animal and vegetable, most interesting to
lovers of Nature. From the point reached by us a striking view was
obtained of the ranges on which stand respectively the sanatoria of
Landour and Mussoorie, and in the further distance snow-covered peaks
of the Himalayahs.
The _mela_ or festival, over, without mishap or outbreak of special
sickness, our return march took place. The mid-day heat had become
great; we were therefore glad to be again within comfortable houses
at Meerut, provided with thermantadotes and tatties;[50] and so the
temperature reduced from 105° F. in the open to 76° F. indoors.
Not long thereafter the greater number, if indeed not all of us,
were gratified on reading, in Government Orders, the announcement
that officers and men who had been present at the battles of Meeanee
or Hyderabad, recently fought in Scinde, Punniar, or Maharajpore in
Gwalior, were granted as a donation one years’ batta, amounting in my
instance, with relative rank of lieutenant, to Rs.700--a very welcome
windfall.
Certain native regiments were at this time ordered to the first-named
country. Rumour spread that peace having been established therein, the
extra allowances granted to troops while war was in progress was to be
discontinued. In the regiments alluded to insubordination immediately
showed itself, in at least one of them to a degree bordering on mutiny.
A general parade was ordered; the disaffected corps so placed as to be
in face of artillery, on either side cavalry and infantry; thereupon
the sepoys belonging to it laid down their arms, after which they were
paid up to date and escorted out of the station. The officer commanding
another corps took upon himself to get rid of the ringleaders without
waiting for official authority for so doing. Thus was suppressed what
for the moment threatened to become a somewhat difficult state of
matters. This was in 1844. The terrible events of 1857 at the same
station were in the future.
The state of unrest with reference to affairs in the Punjab continued
to increase, the likelihood of war next cold season appearing the
greater from the facts that military stores were ordered to be
collected at Umballah and Ferozepore, means of transport arranged for,
and troops of various arms warned to proceed towards the frontier.
Meanwhile, Lord Ellenborough was recalled, and Lord Hardinge reigned as
Governor-General in his stead.
At the end of April, in obedience to orders, I started away to rejoin
the Buffs, who had returned to Allahabad. The first part of the journey
thither was performed by horse transit, then recently introduced--the
palanquin placed upon a four-wheeled truck or cart, drawn by a single
horse at the rate of seven miles per hour; for as yet railways had
not been introduced into India. The latter part of the journey was by
ordinary “palkee dâk”; and so, in due course, I was again with the
happy regiment to which properly I belonged.